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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 11 days ago

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ASHES BURN! DARK! Conquerer/Book-accurate Aemond x reader (i do not jest/throw dark around lightly)

for my lovely friends, readers, and anons.

(if you ever find a man like this, please run away)

Ashes burn: Chapter five

This has been online for some time.

But I never published it here.

You can find 1/2/3 on my masterlist :)

Now we need the warnings/

warnings: Dark dub con, implied sexual violence, overstim, p in v sex, oral sex, blood, gore, murder, torture, war crimes, dark, dark, dark, knives, knife play (in future chapters) aemond has strong control issues aemond is a asshole. oh, a important one, PTSD. Reader is suffering from that. (who can blame her, after she been through???) and also implied suicide and rape, depression.

mdni

wordcount: shes a big one 7001

Ashes Burn

The night is filled with terrible cries, screams and memories. Memories of your own and dreams that might as well be visions. Visions of your family, of Maas, your little brother, of Diandra and Annalysa. Of the Dolkburg estate being on fire and it being swallowed up In flames. Your father, Samwell Dawryn on his knees as you chopped his head off, giving him a much better execution than Aemond allowed. Your brother's head is hanging from the ceiling as you are tied to a bed, close by the Prince. He sits a throne made of skulls and bones, caressing you as you weep, drinking blood, in a silver cup. When you stare at the goblet, it has black and green gems.

You awake sweating and screaming, your legs shaking in ways they never shook before. You feel cold and warm all at once as you turn, trying to escape the chains Aemond put you in. A sharp pain between your legs reminds you of what happened.

You look down on the sheets and linen and see you have bled during your slumber. You must have woken up from the pain. You look around for the Prince. He doesn't seem to be near the window or the big wardrobe. The desk is abandoned too, with a single candle that burned up hours ago. You sigh, relieved. He is gone.

When you close your eyes you are back on your knees, with the prince towering behind you. He grabs you by your hips and takes you from behind as an animal, setting your core alight. You recall how shameful you acted and how much you got carried away in that one weak moment of something close to comfort. How he came inside of you and how you came on his cock.

You feel ashamed to say it but you enjoyed some parts of it. It was terrible and inhumane what Aemond subjected you to. But he wanted you. No one has ever wanted you before. And even if you said no, he wouldn't have listened. You take small deep breaths. You can rest for now. He won't bother you. You relax until you feel long, familiar and cold fingers silently wrap around your throat as vines crawling out of the earth to strangle you.

You flinch, afraid and try to rattle the chains, to break free and to get any control. Aemond simply smirks, leaning in closer and brushing with his lips against your cheeks as you endure it whimpering. “Good morrow, my beloved Pet.” He whispers, and you can't help but wordlessly wail as you think that today has just only started. “My, chains look good on you. I ought to keep you as this. Just chains. Nothing else.” He continues. You focus on breathing instead of insulting him.

The prince sees your attention wither and makes himself the center of attention once more by squeezing your cheeks painfully.

“Did I take your tongue?” He asks. “I honestly can't recall what horrors I inflicted last night, but I don't have a memory of it.”

He did not. He made you a kinslayer and maybe an whore, he took your home and your family, but you still have your voice. Whatever it is worth, you are alive. “No.” Your voice surprises you, you sound so certain and determined.

It is foolish of you to utter it so harshly. You know Prince Aemond cares about proper etiquette especially if it's a bastard like yourself addressing his highness. He scoffs, stares at your breasts and for a moment you fear what he will do next. You worry he might hurt you. He leans in closer, taking his dagger out. You close your eyes, relief and fear washing over you. It's done. You are now sent to the Seven Gods and you'll be freed of any pain.

But instead of slitting your throat or even stabbing you or cutting off a finger to teach you a lesson, Aemond only presses the blade to your cheeks, scooping up a tear on accident. A very clear warning. You are certain.

He growls. “No, my Prince. Don't forget basic etiquette, Pet. I will have to remind you of it if you do.” He killed 1,200 men at your city’s gates. He killed your brother and so many others. There is a warning there and you know he enjoys spanking you, it arouses him to hear your cries of pain and to have you over his lap, your body helpless and tamed.

You know you must now apologize and play along, play the perfect Pet. “No, my Prince. I just was not sure if you wished to be annoyed by my voice.” your eyes lower in perfect submission. The prince adores this, breaking into a smile and caresses your scarred face. You allow his warm soft and gentle hands to touch you, enjoying the warmth. Without any clothes it's so cold in the room.

He stares at your hardening nipples, smirking as he plays with the hardened tips. “Your voice, it could never annoy me. It's enchanting me, in a way. When you speak, the world grows silent. I can be in the eye of a hurricane and surrounded by roaring dragons and all I would hear is your voice. The soft pitch, the undertone and the melody.”

It is kind, charming and gallant. It unarms you in a way. It shocks and delights you to hear such praise from him of all men. It gives you hope. “It does, your highness?” You whisper, hope blossoming deep inside of you.

He nods, to your surprise and he even reaches out to kiss your forehead. So gently. So kind. So unlike him. “Quite. But enough of such matters. How did my pet sleep?” You didn't sleep much, chained to the bed. You heard the laughter of soldiers deep into the night as well as terrified screams of their victims.

“Terrible.” You don't lie. You don't see the point of that.

He finds that funny. “I had a decent time in the tavern. I heard from my men that there were plenty of women. Two men dragged in a wench, ripped her clothes off and well, I never saw so much cum and blood.” He chuckles. “Not even with your own loss, little filthy Pet.” You think back on what happened. You don't think he'd understand how lonely and how afraid you were.

He doesn't approve of your silence. He grabs your breasts and pinches your nipples painfully. “I have not forgotten how eager you were for me. How you bended as a whore and allowed me to fuck the last bit of dignity out of your body while your childhood friend watched.” The way his voice becomes heavier and the words roll quicker over his tongue bode nothing good. Arousal or anger. Maybe both.

“Did they kill her, at least?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going so he cannot harm you again. You don't want to think about last night.

Aemond studies your face closely before answering. “One of my commanders took a liking to her. She's to become his wife.” You wonder if it's the Dornish commander that Aemond often associated with. But the way he warned you about Aemond, how he pleaded for you to stop resisting so no one would be injured or killed, it doesn't sound like something he'd do.

He would not hurt an innocent woman.

He isn't like the man he serves.

You can barely hide your disgust with Aemond's casual tone when discussing the rape and arranged Marriage to one of his friends. “After he and the man raped her? What if she's with child?” You ask, offended.

He shrugs. “Then she best marry, do you not agree? The child would be a bastard otherwise. You know by now what I think of bastards.” He hates them. King Aegon made all assumed illegitimate children surrender property to the crown, gifting it to whoever would fly his sickening banner.

You don't know her name or her age but she can't be that terrible that she deserves such a cruel fate. No one can be, in truth. “How will she …If he's a commander how will she visit her friends and family here?” You ask. There is another question. “Is there a way to …to kill a baby when it's in a woman's belly?” You whisper, gently. You ask it with tears in your eyes.

His eye locks on you and you see his hand rising in a barely suppressed attempt to hit you for your question. “Why don't you worry about your own womb, little Lamb?” He suggests, teeth bared.

You rub your stomach in an attempt to calm your racing thoughts as the walls feel like closing in. “I do, your Highness. I…I know what happens when a man and a Woman do what we do. Surely you don't want any challenge to your potential claims. Surely you don't want me to have a dirty bastard.” Your voice breaks.

He doesn't answer your question. He ignores it as if he's not certain of the answer himself.

“Valyrian seed is strong. My bloodline is intertwined with the Dragon’s flame. You should be grateful that your plain features even manage to satisfy my exquisite tastes.” A deflection and an insult. He wants you to stop questioning and to stop bothering him.

You wonder why he hates bastards. You think it has something to do with Queen Rhaenyra who is rumored to have multiple secretly illegitimate children. “Your sister has a bastard. Is that why you dislike us so much?”

He still is caressing your breasts, playing with your hair and touching your skin, distracting himself. But the touches become crueler and harder as he allows the anger to feed on him.

“My half sister born out of weakness and quickened in a soft demented womb thinks she can pass her bastards off as true born heirs. Jacaerys Strong is a fucking bastard and he doesn't deserve Driftmark, his dragon, the claim on the Iron throne or any-” Its frightening to see how even mentioning that boy brings out the beast in Aemond. His pupil widens in ways you never saw before and the way your breasts are touched tells you he wants to strangle something or someone.

You feel the need to defend Jacaerys. He is a better man than Aemond. And even if he is a bastard, that doesn't mean that he can't become a kind and good king. “He's a better man than you'll ever be.” You blurt out when he is kneeding your breasts painfully.

Aemond doesn't respond but releases your breasts. The moment your guard is lowered you are met with a slap in your face, that burns on your skin and shatters your dignity.

The spot feels warm and burned when you touch it, sobbing quietly. He sighs, instantly lowering the hand that slapped your face so painfully. He touches the spot he hit and wipes your tears from your cheeks as they fall. “Maybe if you like to defend bastards so much, I should just put one inside of you and be done with it. See how you like it, raising it on your own in this shithole.” He whispers, touching your cunt with his fingers. It hurts badly to have anything there at the moment. It's too sensitive.

You glare through your tears. “Now, I don't like doing this to your pretty little face, my Lamb. But if you ever dare to utter a good word about those bastards again, I will punish you.” He hates them so much. So much. It can't be all for their parentage. It can't all come back to that. Something else happened. Something that changed Aemond forever.

You stare at his eyepatch as it finally clicks.

“What in the name of the Seven did those boys do to you?” You reach out and caress his face, breaking many rules as you stare at him, seeing him as a human that was hurt for the first time.

He has one response to that. He puts his walls even higher around him. “Do not touch me!” He Yells, fending you off in shock and something you recognize all too well. Terror. No, not terror. Fear. Fear of a little boy who is still in that man somewhere deep.

You heed his request, giving him the space he requires. You wanted to touch him. You aren't sure why. Maybe pity. Or maybe you wanted to comfort the poor prince who lost his eye. You don't know why. Aemond showed you only his dark and his rotten side. He doesn't deserve anything from you.

“Whore.” He adds, but it sounds not as secure as usual. It doesn't sound as dark anymore. He lost his confidence. You broke that wall. You were right. He tries to fend you off with words.

“He took your eye.” You are muttering it. How long ago did that happen? How long ago does all of this tie to?

His cruel answer only proves you are right.

“Its not too late for me to change my mind. I can still kill you.” This is madness. You are fighting a war. The entire kingdoms are fighting a war. And none of you truly understand just how deep it all goes. How do you grow a fruit of peace if the roots are all rotten?

Aemond grabs your throat, forcing your attention back to him. You allow him to kiss you. He kisses again and again, biting your lips and staring into your eyes.

“You are right. Forgive me, I oversteppe-” He forces his tongue inside your mouth, silencing you. It's more than kissing. He presses your arms the way he wants and feels your breasts. But it is not desire that drives this act. It is desperation. Not for you, but for the need for control. You gasp as Aemond's mouth wraps around one of your Breasts. He sucks on the nipple, forcing his fingers hard inside of you.

“Mhm. You corrupt so easily. When we lay together soon, I'm going to take you from behind, but this time, this time, I'll really let myself go. You were a lucky girl, that I had some restraint last night. Some mercy for you. But you are not a maiden anymore so there's no need for me to be gentle.” He chuckles, picturing it already.

You shiver. That was gentle? That was mercy? It was painful enough.

He kisses just above your cunt. “You'll be worn out from back to front and only able to moan.” He adds. “The way most wenches are treated now.” You need to do something about that.

“The woman your commander is to marry. Is she the Dornish man's wife?” You ask, trying to play him by complying.

“That doesn't concern you.” He grits out, spanking your butt. You hiss in pain. His hands caress your butt while his other hand spanks you painfully.

“It does. She's under my protection and my care-” You stutter as the smacks only become harder. Aemond yanks your head up by your hair causing you to release a painful scream.

You regret it.

“Go ahead. Finish your sentence.” He hisses, spit ending up on your cheeks. He handles you roughly and holds your head and hair painfully.

You don't feel brave anymore. You were stupid for asking anything. “No.” you whimper, full of regret.

He thinks for a moment before he slaps you in your face. “Go on. You were so brave just moments ago. Speak!” the way he yells terrifies you. He seems enraged.

You sniffle. “I am sorry.” You mutter as a coward, afraid to even look at his face. Aemond's hand lands with a cruel blow on your behind, hurting you as tears sting. He studies your face for your reaction, laughing as you cower.

“No, you are not. But you will be.” He vows, and you know you made a big mistake. “A wife's opinion doesn't matter. A horse isn't asked before the rider mounts it, neither should one care about the opinion of a woman.” He really compared women to animals. You wonder if he even has a mother himself. Someone to educate him and to teach him right from wrong. Was even thought that things can be wrong?

Aemond looks at the corpse in the corner, smirking. He likes the violent acts, but the friendship and romance that was blooming being cut short; that is just the cherry on top. He revels and appreciates your pain. “Your friend couldn't keep his eyes off you when I fucked you. I bet he thought of fucking you before.” You don't want to think about it. He was only a friend to you.

He notices your silence and discomfort .

“I can see why. You wet easily and are deliciously submissive. Anyone could have fun with your body.” He continues, now gently stroking your butt cheeks that hurt so badly. You enjoy his gentleness, it's smoothing you in a way. Calming you down and making you feel good.

“Do you like the idea of being shared, my little Lamb?” He suddenly whispers, barely hiding his chuckle. You are tense again, shaking and trembling.

You are sure you'd dislike every moment of what he suggests if you even could survive it.

“I only desire you, my Prince.’ You shake, afraid he'll give you to other soldiers and men.

He scoffs at your stupid answer. He does not believe you. You cried and resisted too much to his liking. “What do you desire then? What do you desire about me?” He doesn't believe that anyone can find him handsome to begin with.

You think of his positive qualities. But he has so little. You decide to go with what he thinks you are. A good for nothing whore. “How good it feels when you mount me. And how good you can make me feel when I…when I….become overwhelmed.” You mutter, nervously playing with your hair.

“Good enough for now.” He declares, and you sigh with relief. “We haven't talked about your dead friend. How you killed him for talking about your mother.” So he heard that. You had hoped he would have forgotten that.

Because to be honest so had you. Or rather, it felt as a memory from a dream rather than one from reality. Because how often didn't you dream about finding your mother? That Daros knew. That she's alive. It's almost too much.

His words hit like blows. Your mother. She is alive. “I am sorry, my prince. If you must punish me for that I shall accept whatever you deem worthy.” You say humbly. He scoffs again, disappointed.

“I am a monster.” You quietly whimper. Your father. Your brother. And now your friend.

The worst part is that Aemond does nothing to comfort you or to deny it. He only nods agreeing that he made you that way. “Next time when you want to spice things up, when you want to be a filthy little thing covered in blood, just let me know and we'll have something arranged.” You don't want to know what that something even is. He can't really get aroused by killing…can he?

And you surely don't plan on sharing his bed again. “It was a one time thing.” You inform him. “I can't be bedded regularly. I have much on my plate with my…heritage.” You say as gentle and delicate as possible knowing men hate rejection.

You don't know why he cares or even is affected and hurt by your words. But he is as his walls quickly surround the prince once more. “You will refrain from ever touching me and my daggers without my consent again.” He warns you. “I won't kill you but you have a good amount of kitchen sluts who I do want to kill.”

“I am sorry.” You whisper heartbroken by the memory of the screams you heard. Of the girl that killed herself. You can't imagine going through something so horrible as rape and killing yourself. She saw no way out. She is free now, but she deserved more. They all did. You aren't sure who you are apologising to. Him or his victims. Including Daros your friend.

Aemond took his head but you killed him.

“Please forgive me. Please allow me to Bury him-” You beg, hoping to make peace with yourself and your life this way. Someone should be at peace.

But Aemond sees that differently. Giving you what you want is a sign of weakness. Daros also tried to kill him last night. "Bury him? No!’’ He laughs, as if you said something funny, something different than begging him for permission to bury your last and final friend. “Don't be boring now. You surprised me so pleasantly, the other night.’’ He leans in and traces the patterns your tears make with his thumbs. Somehow you know just what he is referring to. Not even to the night you two spent together. It meant nothing to him in a way. Watching you kill, watching you unleash your violent and devious desires, watching you end a life, seeing the blood and the shock on your face the moment that nameless bastard stopped breathing; that aroused him more than any kiss you could have given him. You know it. You know he is sick but not in a way to pity him. He knows his illness and instead of taking medicine, he throws himself into madness, killing himself, whatever is left of his humanity if there was any to begin with. His remaining good, final eye stares at you daring you to speak up, to show any signs of disagreement, so he may again, fill that void inside his soul that longs for fire, and for blood. ‘’Don’t be silent. Share your thoughts. They better be interesting, entertaining and witty. I have always had a fond fascination for the mind and feelings of bastards like yourself.’’ It is almost a compliment. Until he takes a deep breath, his chest rising as if he braces himself for the chill that just runs down your spine. ‘’And so does my dragon, Vhagar.’’

“I don't wish to kill again.” You confess, your voice a heartbreaking soft whisper. “I don't wish to hurt anyone else again. Use me however you seem fit and fill every hole I have but don't make me kill anyone else again, please my Prince.” You beg, before bursting into quiet sobs, falling to your knees on the bed.

Aemond allows it to happen and does not bother to offer you anything for comfort or support. “I will have you again tonight.” He informs you as if he did not hear your rejection earlier. He stares you down, daring you to reject him again.

It surprises you too.

What is there to even want anymore?

He had you and took your honour. You never had a good name due to your bastardy and now you shall have an even bigger struggle with finding a match or a husband.

The way he glares at you says enough. He dares you to repeat it, to challenge him and his claim over your body. You feel your stomach turn, but you try to change his mind. “We can't. I am still healing and you certainly have other things to do than spend your valuable time with some useless bastard whore.” You say, using words he picked out for you himself. “Certainly you must face the traitors or your commander needs you. You can't celebrate just yet.” You hope it's enough.

But one look into his eye and you know it's not. “Such a worried little Pet.” He murmurs with a sickened grin. “Are you worried they'll kill me?” You wouldn't be worried if they did. You'd celebrate. You would be free and happy.

You huff. Aemond ignores that and grins leaning in a bit closer, quickly crushing your dreams. “Because if it isn't for me, you'll be grabbed by your pretty bastard locks and fucked in every hole that you have.” He reveals to you.“You are a prince's pet, love. All men dream of touching what I touched, fucking what I fucked. You are now associated with me; whether you like it or not.” and that scares you. Because you might wake up from the nightmare but you'll never be truly free. He removes his fingers.

Try as you might, you cannot even begin to think of a way to talk yourself out of that one. It is all true what he says. “I'm all that stands between them and you. Do not forget that.” He whispers as you tear up silently.

“May I dress?” Your voice is still soft and breakable. You are shivering and Aemond has already glanced at your poking nipples. Aemond does not respond and walks a small circle around you, eying your private parts and breasts hungrily. You try to cover yourself but he smacks your hands away painfully.

“How does your cunny feel?” The question surprises you. You think back of the way how you were brutally fucked as some whore on your knees, his cock slamming inside you cruelly without mercy until Aemond finally came. You avoid his eyes once more, afraid and ashamed to answer.

“it hurts.” You whisper. “If I'm being truthful, it was a lot more painful than I'd ever imagined.” That pleases him, his eye scanning you as he begins to smile, appreciating your honesty.

He chuckles. “You'll get used to it. As all women do. Such is the way of life, what the gods intended for you.” He says. You didn't know he is religious. You doubt the Gods would approve of him.

His hands reach out and you expect another slap. Instead one of his hands vanishes between your legs, touching your sensitive and butchered flesh. you feel his fingers stroke your cunt, and with his other free hand he forces you to make eye contact so it feels more intense. Aemond pushes his thumb inside of you and you whimper at his mercy as he begins to push. You let out a soft little cry as he fucks you patiently on his fingers, a broad smirk on his lips. “I see you still wet quickly, Little Pet.”

The smirk on his lips says it all. “It's too much isn't it, little pet? Too soon?” He asks, teasingly. You'd like him to stop. Your body isn't ready.

You can only think of his cock taking you as you are kneeling again. “Mercy, my prince.” You beg, out of options. You need him to stop. He is arousing you.

“I'm going to make you come.” He announces, driven by this new goal of his. The finger goes deeper as Aemond now grabs you by your hips, forcing you to take it. He smirks. “This is intense for you, isn't it?” He judges by your pained expression.

Aemond grins as he pushes another finger inside of you. A second finger. You tense up, gasping. “You're going to come all over my fingers, little Pet. You're going to be a good girl for me.” He declares patiently fucking you. You can't take it anymore and wail at his mercy.

“You are close,’ He brushes his mouth near your ear and leaves a harsh bite. You yelp. He opens the windows. The windows that overlook the now busy square.

Aemond lays you on the bench of the window, spreads your legs and enters you now with his stiffend cock. You place your head down and surrender fully to his wants and needs. “Such a good little whore for me. Let them hear what I do to you.” He groans. You eye the busy square below, aware you are naked.

“Please my prince, can we finish on the bed?” You beg. You don't want them to see or hear this.

He doesn't say anything but smacks your butt and puts you back in a familair position before soon you are taken from behind, fucked and filled up by his cock penetrating your cunt again. Aemond softly grunts in pleasure as you moan, quietly. “Gently, I beg of you.” You are worried you'll fall to your death.

“I'll show you gently.” He groans, grabbing you tighter and only taking you harder.

Your cries and moans only increase as you are taken violently on the window edge. You hold on desperately to the wood of the frame, afraid one wrong move could throw you down. The worst part is that some people are looking up how you, are getting fucked by the prince as a cow in a meadow.

“That's how you like it, hm, pet? You don't like gently. You like it hard and rough. You like it painful and you like it wrong.” He chuckles, enjoying your shame and pain as you try to back away from the window. He puts you back aggressively, spanking your sex.

You aren't sure what it is, why you are aroused again. Maybe it's the grief. Maybe it's what Aemond said. Your bastard blood that causes this. “I can't…I can't take it…” You stutter, your stomach alight with pleasure and shame. You cry, overwhelmed by it all.

He doesn't care for your pain and for your tears. “Then let it out, pet. Let it all out.” He orders you.

Your body hurts but you don't care. He grabs you, removing you from the cold window. He walks to the desk with you as his trophee.

Aemond groans, bending and fucking harshly against the table as the table shakes and your head becomes light of pleasure. Your hips are naturally wrapped around his waist as he keeps taking you, desire and fire burning in his eye. You buck your hips in approval, begging him to continue whatever is happening. Your body needs it. “You'd like to finish, Pet?” He rasps, now gently taking you. You nod, enjoying the way how the cock just goes inside, gently to tease you.

“Scream, whore.” he groans; hitting your ass and your sensitive bleeding lady parts. You burst from the pleasure and cry out, obeying his request as he grabs hold of your scalp, forcing his cock inside with a cruel powerful slam. He forces you to submit and bends you lower and lower and you can tell he is going to come soon. He rides you, merciless and cruel as you try your best to contain your moans and painful little grunts.

You scream, finally. Aemond revels in your delight and pain, taking you so deep you are assured he made A hole himself. You spasm under his grip, resting and enjoying the orgasm. Until Aemond patiently slaps you in your face, smirking as you stare at him, dazed. “Good girl. You like that huh?”

You did. But now that the pleasure has faded all that remains is regret. “I liked it, my Prince but the truth is it felt shameful. It felt forbidden, the way you and I made love.” You whisper.

He scoffs. “I fucked you, Pet. I don't make love to you. I yanked your clothing down and fucked you the way a bastard deserves it. Don't tell me your little cunny didn't jingle the moment my cock slipped in again.” You aren't married and he's not going to keep you. You should stop this at once.

“What aroused you the most?” He asks, curiously as he dresses himself again.

You don't want to talk about it. You feel dirty and ashamed now that the pleasure has faded and all you are left with is fresh cum on your private parts and a bleeding cunt.

“A lady shouldn't talk like that.” You say, deflecting.

He ignores that request of yours, making sure he looks the proper prince again by perfecting his hair. “Good thing you are a bastard, not a lady.” You know he is right. You are no High born lady like your sisters.

But still you wont comply.

“I shouldn't.” You say, hoping he will drop the matter now.

He stops perfecting his hair in front of the mirror using it to glare at you. “I decide what you should and shouldn't do.” He makes his voice colder and you know you crossed a line. “Tell me. Now.”

You rather not. You want to keep some dignity. Some honor. Some self-love. “Its shameful and sinful. Let me have some dignity-” Aemond groans, turning around to face you and throws one of the bottles standing on the vanity your way in frustration and rage. You dive out of the way as the shards shatter across the room, screaming in fear.

When he stands in front of you and you see his terrifying black boots with old blood you know he is close. You feel a kick and look up.

“Speak.” He hisses through his teeth.

You finally cave. “The way you held me down and had your way with me.”

“Filthy, filthy little Pet.” he scolds, but he grins all the same. “Do you like it when the big bad Prince takes your pretty bastard legs and handles you his liking, fucking your sore and oh so wet cunt while he forces all his dirty fantasies and his seed upon you?” He kisses your hair, smirking as you try to flee. You are only captured again and juding by his chuckle he only likes this. “I should've known. Your kind is known from being filty unworthy insidious creatures capable of great sin.”

While you don't say a word you must have looked confused. He smiles as if you are stupid. “Bastards.” He clarifies. You feel your heart sink.

Aemond finally leaves your side and walks to the wardrobe. You think about escaping. But you know he would kill everyone in the town and find you no matter where you'll go. You clean yourself with a towel and a bit of water from a bucket, flinching and shaking. The water is freezing cold.

You watch the prince inspect your stepmother's wardrobe and inspect her dresses. “Oh, this one is pretty. And it's just your size, Pet. I can tolerate it better than the rags you wore before. Put it on. Now.” He only adds the last word because he sees you doubt his command.

You can't. The green lavish gown belongs to your stepmother and can only be worn during special occasions and celebrations. She would kill you and Aemond if she knew you even glanced at it. “I am grateful for your kindness, m-my prince, but those belong to my stepmother, the Lady of Dolkburg. I shouldn't.”

Aemond continues to raid the wardrobe, looking for anything that meets his taste. It are extravagant and overly decorated dresses, mostly in green colours. There is also a soft blush coloured gown, as well as a light gentle yellow one. He inspects the dresses critically.

“Your jolly maid told me she and the others despise that woman. Do you hate her too, Pet?” Midy. Midy told him that? Why would she even speak to him? Doesn't she know he'll slit her throat easily?

You must protect her. You know her. She can be so impulsive and protective of you. You are shocked she and Aemond talked and that he didn't end up being smacked with one of her pans. “My prince, please be mindful around Midy. She is a good cook and a sweet woman but I'm worried she'll…” You can't say It. He'll put her to the sword if as much suspect she'll be trouble.

Aemond seems to notice the threat at long last. “She'll what?”

You feel so exhausted and afraid. So tired and cold. “She is like a mother to me, my Prince. She might do foolish things.” You admit. “My sister is the same. You have seen yourself how troublesome she can be.’

Aemond ignores you. He must think you and Midy aren't a threat after all. “I hate your stepmother too. And I know you hate her as well. I can read you as an open book.” You stare at your shaking Hands. Is it really that obvious?

He smirks. “She made you sit as some rat outside, she made you wear rags and she tried to replace your mother. If she went missing, I'd search in your garden first.” He jokes, looking at the dresses. “She's lucky I didn't kill her to send everyone a message.”

“I don't want her harmed.” You say clearly. You have no sympathies for her. But you won't have any more blood on your hands.

He just smiles, not even replying. But the coldness in his eye, the faint line of dedication on his lips and the way he ignored every word you uttered says plenty. He would most certainly kill her.

She is an awful lady.

She is an ungrateful and cruel woman.

But Dolkburg has suffered enough.

She's the mother of your sisters.

She's your mother by law.

And truly: What does her death accomplish?

As a teenager, a lonely girl you sure thought it would end your problems. But the truth is she's not even a priority anymore.

“I mean it.” You quickly rephrase it.

“I mean, if it pleases you, please do not harm my family anymore, your Highness. You won. You have no use of further bloodshed and terror. His grace the King will be pleased and proud of you, I am certain.” You say, hoping that you can get him to heed this one wish.

Aemond stares at you, taking in your words. Then he roars with laughter so hard that it makes you flinch. “You think I did it for him?”

You would assume so. Why else? You nod. He claimed this city in his brother's name. He killed the traitors who opposed his brother's rule. You would assume that all he did was for King Aegon and King Aegon alone.

He laughs, delighted. “Sweet little Lamb,” He pats your head affectionately. “I love your innocent thinking. You're all mine to corrupt.” He touches your lips with his fingers, sucking on his thumb before cleaning your cheeks. “Mhm?”

“Yes, your Highness.” You reply softly. He growls, aroused by your answer.

“You ran into a battlefield to save your brat sister. Let us have a little secret, a secret you best keep well.”

He wants to tell you something unspeakable. He wants to tell you that he doesn't love the king at all. That he despises his own brother. What he plans to tell you is more than despicable. It's treason. High treason that could have you both killed. “I can't keep secrets, it would be very unwise to tell me. I am a mere bastard incapable of anything else but what you used me for-” You instantly say.

He warns you by smacking your butt.

“I like your attempts at deceit but make no mistake: I can tell when you try to play me.”

“I am so sorry. i did not mean offense or ignorance. I simply wish to serve you however you wish, your highness.” You say, ignoring the tears that sting. The Prince lifts your chin, and waits for them to fall. He smiles as you silently cry.

“Hm. Perhaps you can't handle the secret.” He concludes and you sigh of relief.

“I trust your judgement, your Highness. You know best.” You feel relief wash over you. Aemond returns to the dresses.

“Now, It does not meet my prefered standards but it's as good as it'll get in this hellhole.” You don't like it when he calls your beloved hometown hell or shit. If its so bad, he should take his leave. He outstayed his welcome anyway. Not that you would ever dare to tell him that.

You walk to the wardrobe, eying a simple black gown with lace around the neckline.

“Silly little lamb. I picked out what I wanted for you.” He directs you to the bed as if you are a foolish dumb girl. He puts your hands on the bed and allows you to feel the fabric of the dresses. “Green is beautiful. Don't you agree with me?” He asks.

You shake your head, eying the dress.

“I'd prefer black. I'm mourning.”

You see Aemond's smile die and his eye slightly widens. You gulp, aware you made a grave mistake. “I meant, I only meant the dress. I serve King Aegon-”

The Blacks are his enemies.

You see him shake with anger and glare at you in ways you never saw before. You never before felt as if your life was that threathend.

“Shut up, foolish little Lamb.” You obey, shaking. Aemond grabs the dress and pushes it in your hands. “I am not mourning. And you are my pet before you are anything else. Do not make me remind you of that.”

“Now, since you are incapable of following simple orders, I have picked for you. I happen to like this one.” The dress is of a soft silk fabric with golden stitches and white lace.

You feel as a whore.

A very expensive but at the same time a cheap whore. “My. Don't you just look ravishing?” Aemond comments as he kisses your neck, staring at your reflection. You whimper soft as he begins to squeeze your breasts painfully.

“I look as a whore.” you comment, upset. “I prefer my older clothes.”

“Whores get paid. So, in theory, you are even worse. Whores have honor and dignity. I respect them. I don't respect you.” He whispers, cruelly when circling your belly. “Soon you'll only fit bigger dresses. I'll leave it up to you to figure out what that means. I'm sure you'll find out eventually.” He pats your belly, confirming he plans on getting you pregnant. ''Only if I allow you to live long enough, and only if I don't get sick of you first.'' He adds, judging your sorrow and pain. After that he straightens his back, makes himself taller, and marches out of the room without even glancing back, assuming you'll follow him as some lost dog. “Come, pet. Time we give you something else to swallow then my seed.”

i hope you liked this short chapter.

it had been months so i wrote it and then i edited, and fun fact, i was like ''aegon would never hate aemond and visa versa'' but in the show they fucked that up and now they do, so i thought ah fuck it lets go with it then.

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 28 days ago

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Aemond x my OC

Ellamond

Edited from modded vid my friend made for me.

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 month ago

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Every now and then I sort of almost forget how talented our little community is and whenever I almost do something like this pops up and I'm reminded what a wonderful place I'm part of.

If they don't give us braids, armor, and sword-wielding, I'll just create my own 💎

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #Aemond Targaryen's hair #beautiful #valyrian hair

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 month ago

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Some help.

Please note this is the main focus of the next few weeks, and I might try to revive some old works of mine while im at it.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 month ago

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Ashes Burn is written so damn well!! I was immediately hooked on the storyline, and you fleshed out dark Aemond so amazingly💗

awh! thank you!!!!

you know what? I've got a surprise for you.

I didnt mention it, but i have been working on some spare (sadly not the spare) (But as in spare-spare) stuff in the mean time. Some more ashes stuff, so to speak. And sweet Aemonds is it dark. Thank you for your support, my lovely anon!!!!!

Here, because you been very kind and invested, im going to sent you a sneak peak! (i hope you're caught up ehehe or otherwise, mild spoilers, friend)

00000

anon, i just checked there's a whole bloody chapter missing here, friend. I put it up for you. x and for you, im also working on the next chapter. :)

Friend, here's your missing chapter, but I promise the upcoming one will be better. I felt out of it, when writing this older chapter.

----FROM THE NEW CHAPTER-----

“I don't want her harmed.” You say clearly. You have no sympathies for her. But you won't have any more blood on your hands.

He just smiles, not even replying. But the coldness in his eye, the faint line of dedication on his lips and the way he ignored every word you uttered says plenty. He would most certainly kill her.

She is an awful lady.

She is an ungrateful and cruel woman.

But Dolkburg has suffered enough.

She's the mother of your sisters.

She's your mother by law.

And truly: What does her death accomplish?

As a teenager, a lonely girl you sure thought it would end your problems. But the truth is she's not even a priority anymore.

“I mean it.” You quickly rephrase it.

Aemond stares at you, taking in your words. Then he roars with laughter so hard that it makes you flinch. “You think I did it for him?”

“Yes, your Highness.” You reply softly. He growls, aroused by your answer.

“You ran into a battlefield to save your brat sister. Let us have a little secret, a secret you best keep well.”

He warns you by smacking your butt.

“I like your attempts at deceit but make no mistake: I can tell when you try to play me.”

“Hm. Perhaps you can't handle the secret.” He concludes and you sigh of relief.

“I trust your judgement, your Highness. You know best.” You feel relief wash over you. Aemond returns to the dresses.

You walk to the wardrobe, eying a simple black gown with lace around the neckline.

You shake your head, eying the dress.

“I'd prefer black. I'm mourning.”

You see Aemond's smile die and his eye slightly widens. You gulp, aware you made a grave mistake. “I meant, I only meant the dress. I serve King Aegon-”

The Blacks are his enemies.

You see him shake with anger and glare at you in ways you never saw before. You never before felt as if your life was that threathend.

“Now, since you are incapable of following simple orders, I have picked for you. I happen to like this one.” The dress is of a soft silk fabric with golden stitches and white lace.

You feel as a whore.

“I look as a whore.” you comment, upset. “I prefer my older clothes.”

There is the faint sound of a chuckle as he comes closer. “Whores get paid. So, in theory, you are even worse. Whores have honor and dignity. I respect them. I don't respect you.” He whispers, cruelly when circling your belly. “Soon you'll only fit bigger dresses. I'll leave it up to you to figure out what that means. I'm sure you'll find out eventually.” He pats your belly, confirming he plans on getting you pregnant.

“Come, pet. Time we give you something else to swallow then my seed.”

chapter ends here

well sort of

anyway i hope you liked it friend.

its insanely dark

as usual XD :)

Thank you for the anon :)

#lovely anons #kind readers #hotd fandom #makes my day #ASHES BURN AEMOND

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 month ago

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ASHES BURN! DARK! Conquerer/Book-accurate Aemond x reader (i do not jest/throw dark around lightly)

for my lovely friends, readers, and anons.

(if you ever find a man like this, please run away)

Ashes burn: Chapter four

This has been online for some time.

But I never published it here.

You can find 1/2/3 on my masterlist :)

Now we need the warnings/

mdni

wordcount: shes a big one 5925!

You like to think of yourself as a sane, average woman with a good working head. It never failed you yet, despite whatever life had thrown at all.

Growing up a bastard was difficult enough as it is. Your new stepmother and her stepdaughters did not make that easier. Your father’s expectations about your future, did not make that easier and your ever wondering about who possibly could be your mother, did not make it easier at all.

Life has been nothing but difficult, yet you count the blessings, the lights in the dark. The smaller turnips during a famine and the raindrops in a desert. It is not much, by a long shot. Not enough to dull the pain, that is for certain. But it is enough to keep forcing yourself to set your left foot in front of the right one, to keep your head up and to keep going.

It has to be enough.

That was until this morning, when your little sister Diandra rode off to meet the soldiers of King Aegon, second of his name, laying siege to your hometown. Diandra is aged 4 and ten yet she has the courage of a man of thirty. You followed her into the battlefield, as she was openly insulting the man leading the siege, Prince Aemond Targaryen, the one eyed prince, or the sapphire Prince, as many call him.

Aemond executed your brother, took his eyes out, and kept you as a ‘’pet’’. He told you he would not be cold during his stay at your family’s estate, and you would be the reason for that. You have tried to sneak away, but so far Aemond has discovered your attempts and punished you mercilessly for each attempt you took.

Diandra is locked up in the dungeon, likely cold and shivering, missing her stuffed plush toy she can’t sleep without, together with your other family members.

Aemond does not care about gold. Aemond sees them as traitors to the realm for helping Rhaenyra’s cause. He would sooner let another man take his other eye, than let traitors roam free again. He prefers killing them, you’ve seen it before when he fed the men in your father’s army to his dragon, laughing as he cut off limbs, as a little boy who was granted a present for his name day.

You never saw anything so frightful as his smile whenever he sees his prey bleed. You never heard a sound as horrible as his laugh, convinced he shares it with the Stranger himself. The same dead tone, the same hollowness and yet the illusion of softness, well spoken and gentleness. Things he does not possess.

The feast he threw in his own name, to celebrate the conquest of your hometown, ended barely half an hour ago. Yet your servants are already cleaning up the decorations, working quickly under the watchful eye of soldiers that carry the famous golden dragon on their chest, the symbol of Aegon, Aemond’s older brother.

You are standing next to Aemond, your long yet sleeveless green gown with open back and inviting neckline all that protects you from the cold winds. He picked it out for you, not caring much if you would be cold. It was clear that he finds you attractive in this cloth, and that was all that mattered to him. As the Prince briefly plays with his goblet, watching the red wine flow over the edge every time, you notice that the Dornish commander comes out of the shadows, approaching you both. He makes a bow for Aemond and addresses him without awaiting acknowledgement. ‘’My prince. What shall we do with the corpse of Lord Dawreyn?’’ You think back of how Aemond handed you the sword and gave you the option.

Kill your own father or watch him butcher everyone in this town. Aemond was delighted when you picked up the sword. How delighted he was then, not so long ago, in theory, so annoyed he is now. He is as fickle as a candle, dancing on the whims of the elements, of whatever bothers him. ‘’Any suggestions, Cole? I don’t have the faintest idea what to do with him.’’ He says, surprising you.

You have never known him to not have an idea for as long as you know him. You assumed he would have a wicked evil plot for your father’s corpse, but that is not true, after all. Perhaps he only pretends to be a monster. You know that your family members usually are laid to rest in the Dolkburg Crypt under the estate of your home. ‘’We have a family crypt.’’ You tell the prince, speaking gently and causing both men to look at you. ‘’It is a tradition my father is to rest with his kin.’’

Aemond makes a funny little noise, close to a scoff and a chuckle at once, and you feel your courage die off. ‘’You think I will allow a traitor and a rebel to peacefully find rest in his beloved crypt? Furthermore, you think I allow you to decide such matters?’’ He shakes his head, laughing as he grabs hold of your hips, his cold fingers touching your chin as well, cleaning your forehead of blood. Your father’s blood.

You fight briefly in his arms, seeking escape and help. Aemond’s grip only tightens, his smirk growing dangerous and predatory. ‘’You know what, sweet Pet? Just because you suggested it, just because you dared to stick that little bastard nose of yours where it certainly does not belong, I’ll think of a cruel punishment for both you and your father’s corpse.’’ You regret speaking up, but know that uttering an apology will only make it worse.

Aemond stares in the distance, likely to where his dragon is awaiting him, guarded by soldiers. Women and men scream in the background, yet you only hear the women's cries and the laughter, the sickening laughter of his soldiers as they commit the one after the other unspeakable crime. ‘’Hm. His head is to be brought to me, I have plans with it. The legs can be put on the spikes of the gates, and his cock? We will send that to my traitor sister, the so-called ‘Queen.’ I know for one she likes her men at least twenty years older than she is.’’ He laughs at his own joke, likely something you don’t quite understand and smirks at Cole, who tries to hide his disgust very well. ‘’And perhaps she’ll finally have some pleasure this way in ways my uncle failed to satisfy her, and stop this silly little fit of hers, and quietly roll over as a good woman would and stop pestering us all with her ‘’claim’’.’’ Viserys named her his heir. It is no claim. And if it is, it is on an equal scale as that of King Aegon. Yet you don’t say this.

You look around you, noticinging you are the only woman left. Most servant girls have been taken elsewhere by Aemond’s men, likely into the taverns. You begged him earlier for their release, to which he only laughed and said that they were entitled to a few ladies, as they bled for this town. You were close to ripping his silver hair out, one hair by one. You promised your father that you would keep this town safe, and what do you do? You entertain this murderer, this kinslayer and this war criminal. Because you are a coward.

‘’I’m off for tonight. If anything happens, you’re in charge, Cole.’’ Aemond says, addressing the commander. His fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him. ‘’I have plans that involve trying out my new beloved Pet.’’ You let out a shaky breath.

It should scare you, being alone with the prince. In some ways, it does. It mostly terrifies you. But fear is a funny thing. It awakens bravery in souls that have never been brave their entire lives. Only when one is scared, one can be truly brave.

Prince Aemond has been drinking, quite a bit if your counting is correct and quite quickly, almost throwing down the one after the other cup of wine. Perhaps if you can make him take a bit more, he’ll pass out and sleep without bothering you. Wishful thinking, perhaps. An opportunity, for certain. Your father did the same with Diandra and you whenever you couldn’t sleep.

Aemond hooks his arms in yours, dragging you off to your childhood home. The closer you come, the more screams can be heard inside the property, as well as laughter, begs and things breaking. It sounds like glass, and when you lift your head you watch as a servant girl throws herself down the highest floor, screaming as she lands face down on the tiles, her head scattering open as a ripe and juicy piece of fruit. Blood and gore jumps out of her head, as if it are little snakes enchanted by the flute of a singer. It ends up everywhere and yet nowhere at once. It is on the tiles and your gown, but somehow, it does not hit you yet that this has happened. It is as if your mind has closed itself, guarding itself against more pain and trauma.

That awful, awakening feeling of realization, the conclusion that this is forever, irreversible and your fault, comes within a second, yet it takes forever.

You are frozen, completely shocked as you take in the red bloodied spots by her legs and assume she was likely raped before she jumped. You never saw someone kill themselves before. She was your lady. And you failed her.

Aemond simply steps over her body, as if she is not there. ‘’Pet, follow.’’ He barks. You lift your dress to avoid more blood on it, and step over her corpse too, whispering a silent prayer for her soul. And an apology that you failed her.

— Aemond brings you inside the bedroom of your father, the biggest bedroom in the house. It is likely why he picked it out for himself. You notice that for a man with such a hideous scar, he is quite vain. Perhaps that is the reason as well.

Daros is following closely behind, chained and pushed behind you and Aemond and you quietly wonder if he will be forced to watch whatever Aemond plans to do with you.

‘’Tell me a bit about this room, Pet.’’ Aemond speaks after Daros has been tied up to a chair, and you are touching the silk fabric of your gown, enjoying the soft almost cutting feeling it gives you when you go a little too fast.

You think. What is there to tell? It does not have any stories. It is a room, used by the leading men of your family for generations. But there are no heroic stories or ghost stories that have happened between these walls. No bloody betrayls or secret weddings full of passion. It is just a room with four walls and a bed. It is nothing special.

It can never be as special as the man it belonged to. It can never be as special as your father.

Now it belongs to the worst person who ever set foot in your town.

Daros might have been tied up, but he is not gagged. He raises his chin, speaking on your behalf. ‘’This is the bedchamber of her father, Lord Samwell Dawreyn.’’ Hearing his name hurts you. It cuts open your heart and slices your soul.

At first, Aemond slightly tilts his head, his good eye clearing speaking ahead of his words by just twitching: He is enraged that Daros dares to speak to him, for you, and without any permission. He is envious that Daros is not afraid.

“Hm.” The prince simply comments. “So, it belongs to your father, little Pet? The old fuck you killed?” He asks, his eyes staring hungrily at your bloodied gown, likely recalling the moment where you killed him.

You still see his eyes whenever you close yours. You wonder if that will be forever. Or if one day the horrible day will come you can no longer recall his face.

Aemond briefly walks around the room, inspecting it. “This is likely the same room where your father fucked you into the whore that is your mother, Pet.” He joyfully concludes, shaming you.

But it hurts more that he drags your mother into this, calling her a whore as well.

“How ironic that you will lose your maidenhead in this very room as well.” He adds his voice sinister and a threat. He takes another sip of his wine as you sniffle. “I love it when fate has a good sense of humor.”

Unable to help yourself, you raise your hand at him, ready to strike any moment. He is not impressed and just chuckles as if he finds it very adorable. “O, you can do that, little pet. Get rough with me, and I sure will do the same with you. I don't mind it. I like it rough. I love it, in a sick twisted way.” He grins, staring at your tits as if he can already picture himself inside of you.

You frown at his words, worried that nothing will cross a line when it comes to him, and that nothing is sacred or holy when it comes to him. No crimes he won’t commit, no blood he will not spill, including your own.

He smiles, lowering his eye so he can look at you properly. “But you? Oh, darling. You wouldn't like it one bit.” He chuckles, and yes he is right. “Either lower your hand or deliver the slap.” He says after he has lost his patience, becoming bored and annoyed with you wavering.

You back down, helpless and afraid. You feel so small and useless. You tear up. He finds that very amusing. “My little craven pet. You are too scared to stand up to me, hm? I wonder why.” He takes his dagger out, touching your face with the even cold side of it.

“You have so many men.” You manage to stutter out afraid as the knife approaches your eyes closer and closer. You worry that one day he will bore himself with you and pass you down as a toy to his men.

He almost chokes on his own laughter, clearly finding it ridiculous that you are scared of his army. ‘’My men? My useless fucking soldiers scare you?’’ From what you’ve seen, they are anything but useless, clearly trained in warfare and combat alike.

You do not know why you are defending his soldiers. Perhaps to show and shame him into thinking he is not powerful as he thinks he is. Perhaps because you need to tell yourself lies why you don’t interfere with Aemond’s twisted plans and plots more. ‘’They helped you win this siege.’’ Daros lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and Aemond just rolls his good eye. ‘’If the battle had turned ugly, I would have happily burned them all and your town to ash.’’ He says and you don’t doubt him for a moment.

You whimper, afraid at these words, your lips trembling. ‘’Come here.’’ He murmurs against your ear, grabbing you so you won't be able to get away. He turns you to his front, placing the knife at your throat. His slender fingers find the fabric on your shoulders, that hold up your dress and the final piece of your dignity. He brings the knife under the fabric, cutting a cruel hole while you stand there, very close to him and held by your throat by his other hand. He rips the fabric of your gown, baring you naked for both him and Daros to see.

You at first cover yourself, as well as you can. That is until Aemond starts choking you, to warn you of that. Your hands that had cupped your breasts drop and he takes a good look at what is shielding beneath your legs as well as your breasts. Not a single inch of your skin is unknown to him anymore. Aemond takes a step back to fully appreciate your beauty and your purity when Daros does his best to remain respectful, his eyes lowered at the ground. You appreciate his respect and his gesture.

The prince seems to notice your attention is no longer aimed at him. He becomes furious and turns around, watching Daros who stubbornly glares at the floor tiles instead. He curses, before storming over to Daros, yanking him up by his dark black hairs, and dragging his nails into his throat, spitting threats and orders at him. ’Watch her. Watch her, you fucking useless-’’ You back away, closer and closer to the walls of the rooms, aware you are only trapping yourself.

He exhales, calming himself down, at least, to give you the illusion that he is now calm. You know he is just playing you. ‘’You know what? For every moment your eyes are on the ground and not aimed at her, I'll spank her. Starting now.’’ He walks back to you, a grin on his lips.

You back away further until your back meets the wall. Prince Aemond slenters over to you, slow and tutorious until he finally pins you between his arms, not allowing you to move an inch. ‘’Not running from me, are you, little Pet?’’ He asks, his voice a bit raspy and his one remaining eye clearly deranged.

‘’Please do not hurt me.’’

‘’Sh, sweet thing.’’ He whispers when gently nibbling down on your neck, watching you gasp and twist. Until he finally delivers the smack, turning your body sideways so he can reach your ass, and deals a full cruel blow.

You cry out in pain. ‘’Hm,’’ He chuckles, delighted to hear the anguish and fear in your voice. ‘’Gods, you are a delight. Your cries are enough to make me hard, you know that?’’ He laughs. ‘’Come, little pet. You aren’t done yet, your friend isn’t looking, after all.’’

Finally, Daros looks up, tears running down his face as well. Aemond mutters something, clearly annoyed that his game is interrupted but does not force you to come with him anymore.

You turn to Daros who remains chained to the chair where Aemond put him. His bloodied nose has spread blood everywhere and you wish Aemond would give him something to clean his face with. ‘’Lovely tits, tight looking cunt. I am a lucky man.’’ Aemond smirks after he had a thorough inspection, taking in your body.

‘’Please make Daros leave before we make love.’’ You beg. ‘’He is as a brother to me.’’

Daros looks as if you stomped on his heart and Aemond just burst out into laughter. ‘’You hear that, you shit? Your soulmate thinks you are a brother. Even in my family we know what that means!’’ He laughs, and you understand you must have accidentally hurt Daros’s feelings.

Yet you hope that now that Aemond is amused, this might be a chance to get on his good side. ‘’So you'll...consider it?’’ You ask hopeful as Aemond's fingers gently brush aside your hair, touching your neck and untying your necklace for you. It drops to the floor, on your dress.

He stops laughing. You instantly become quiet and nervous too. ‘’You know what? I am done with your useless begs and endless whining. It's past time you learned what a pet is.’’ You do not think you’ll like learning it. He gently taps against your chin to get you to look at him. ‘’A pet obeys her master. You no longer will advocate for useless servants or people here. They are all mine to torment. As are you.’’ He says.

You worry you can not hold your one promise to your father. That you would protect your family and your town. ‘’Lay on the bed.’’ He says, folding his hands back on his back, giving you a clear order. You obey, climbing on the bed, laying on your stomach. You feel arousal between your legs and try to stop it at all costs.

Any woman in your position would not enjoy herself. Yet your body finds the prince attractive, despite his crimes and his horribleness. Perhaps it is what he said: Perhaps you are simply so eager for a husband, that you accept whatever comes your way, no matter how horrid the flavor is of this beautiful looking cake.

The prince glances at you. “Good girl.” He whispers in your ear. You are grabbed by your hips and flipped on the bed, your wet cunt now visible for him. He spreads your legs roughly, yanking them apart with just one hand. His other free hand vanishes in the triangle of your legs.

It feels odd to have someone else touch you there. And you can't help but enjoy yourself regardless.

But you are embarrassed and mortified that he will soon discover that you are wet. “Don't-” you beg but it is too late.

Judging by his heartless little chuckle and his spreading grin he can likely already feel just how wet you are for the Prince. His fingers softly pet and try out the limit of your body, gently pushing in.

“O, little filthy thing. Being so wet for me despite me treating you like shit. Your poor little maiden cunt is basically crying out for me.” He sighs, removing his fingers. You are a bit confused as to why he is leaving your body. Perhaps a bit angry too.

He smirks, knowing all too well you secretly enjoyed it. “Your little friend has a soaked drenched little cunt.” He speaks to Daros again who looked on as Aemond fucked you with his fingers.

Aemond grins at him, bringing his head close to your entrance. You watch as his tongue rolls out of his mouth, gently licking the wet smooth skin. You gasp, slightly twisting. The licks become sloppy, fast and hungry as you begin to feel even more aroused by this act of pleasure. You were never pleasured there before.

He seems to enjoy himself as well, moaning loudly at your wet sex as he takes the one after the other greedy lick. He takes his time with you. At some point he lets out a low soft moan, clearly licking away at your cunt, your juices ending up on his tongue, in his mouth as if he didn't drink for days and this is all there is for him.

You twist a bit, slightly turning but the prince slams your legs back down, to hold you firmly in place. You like the way his grip tightens and you feel calm for a brief moment.

You feel conflicting emotions. Hatred and shame and mostly disgust and just pure arousal and enjoyment. Your body likes it but your heart can't forgive him.

After having a proper taste, Aemond removes his tongue from your entrance, locking eyes with you as he allows his tongue to wetten his lips, likely spreading your taste all over it. He sighs in delight. He turns to Daros with a grin. “She tastes sweet. Almost as a perfectly riped strawberry, aching to be plucked.” You feel you clench yourself at his choice of words, softly breathing a little harder, arousal getting the better of you.

You still remain where you are, but do eye the door. “And pluck you I will.” He grins at you, smacking your wet and soaked cunny that still shimmers with his salvia. You cry out, helplessly and a little turned on by the gesture.

Prince Aemond grins, easily forcing you up to sit on your behind again. You look around for any ideas of what he could want. Instead of telling you what he plans, he simply forces your head down in a pillow, and forces your legs in a kneeling position.

Aemond forces your hands above your head, pinning them together.

“Remain like this.” He tells you, his voice is a bit strained. You give an obedient nod, your hands above your head and kneeling like a good girl.

“Come. You have to see this up close.” He tells Daros after he is freed.

“This is filthy.” daros comments. “I shouldn't see this. She doesn't want me to see this.” You are thankful for his kindness.

“O, don't be a craven.” That is all prince Aemond says.

“You see how it's glinstering? Poor little Pet needs it so badly.”

“Don't you, little pet?” He asks. You give a soft shy nod.

To that the prince laughs. “Look at you, finally being honest to yourself. Do not worry, Sweet little pet. Soon.” He promises.

“You, you peasant. Take the chair and watch me fuck my pet.” He grins.

“She has a fucking name!” Daros leashes out. You are shocked at his outburst and worry that Aemond will break another part of his body now.

“I don't care.” Aemond says with a little shrug. “Neither will she. She is all I decide she is.” He feels your cunt one more time but you can tell its the final time when he undoes his pants and lowers them.

You can't help but watch the prince, curious to his manhood that is about to be revealed. Prince Aemond catches you watching and smirks. “Pet can deny it all she likes. She wants this.” He says slentering over lazily.

In submission, you bow your head, your desires getting the better off you. Your cunt is drenched for sure and your desires are high and rushing. Prince Aemond knows this.

Your legs are parted slightly, so that the prince may reach your forbidden fruit. You take a deep breath and close your eyes…

And take another quick sharp breath when the Prince's cock pierces through your maidenhead, destroying your innocence and throbs away at your wet cunt.

You gasp, a little louder as the pain begins to form, your body slightly twisting. The prince chuckles in your ear. “I'm almost in, pet. You do it well.”

“Almost?” You breath out, confused. The prince does not answer you and instead sinks in deeper, causing you to flinch and to cry out.

He is finally in, you have him inside of you. In a intimate place where no one has been before. And now that he is here, you never want him to leave.

You buck your hips back at his front, desire getting the better of you as you start to pant, your shame and ego leaving your body. “See that? Such a eager little pet. I bet you imagined how she is like to fuck. To feel your cock take her walls and to feel her nippels harden and pierce.”

You forgot all about Daros but when Aemond picks back the torture session your head snaps.

Aemond forces it back with a firm yank at your hair, grinning and spitting at your face when you flinch. He leans in. “You want my attention? You got it, pet. Be a good girl for me and let me just make use of you.”

The prince's hard body part continues the journey inside you, this time there is no kindness or holding back. He simply keeps slamming inside of you, truly fucking you as you slightly close your eyes, barely containing your moans.

“Too much.” You beg, shivering and shaking with little electric shocks going all over your body.

Prince Aemond ignores you. “You will watch us both. You will watch your little friend here, fuck me, herself, and every fucking person in this shithole if I wish it. You'll watch her come and become a woman.” The prince tells Daros.

You try to interfere again but this time the Prince has spotted you. He glares before slamming back inside of you, this time spanking you roughly during the fucking he gives you.

Your cries become a soft mix of complaints and whimpers, leaving your mouth together with salvia as you eagerly buck back. You need him. You feel it builds to an extension where you can not handle it.

“Well, well, well.” He smirks, behind you still thrusting deep and steadily. “You watch her. Watch her close. This is going to be fun.” Prince Aemond declares.

Daros looks at your face, likely dirty of Aemond's spit early and your own drooling as well as sweat and dried tears and old blood. It truly looks like a mess you just know so.

Prince Aemond grins, panting as he grabs you by your hips, his cock finding your cunt once more. You are bent a bit lower, almost laying down when getting it as his thrusts only increase as does your desire. It builds rapidly as you dig your fingers into the mattress, your hips and back giving it your all to the prince.

You gasp, wanting to leave it. “S-stop it's too much.” You beg. To that he only laughs. “So much…I can't handle..”

But he does not listen. He keeps fucking you, his rhythm becoming a hard and fast mix. Your nails are hurting as is your cunt but you need to reach your height. You need it.

The prince simply pulls you a little closer and whispers in your ear, the cock up your cunt. “You will come now, little bastard. You'll soak my cock and in return, I'll coat your cunny with cum. How does that sound?”

As an answer you buck. He grins, returning to giving it his all with rough trust that causes you to cry out.

You feel like a chain that has snapped. You feel as a ball thrown in the air that finally lands and as a bird that reaches its nest.

You make a strangled little cry that starts soft but ends with a powerful shout that expresses your desire and need. You hear a chuckle behind you, belonging to Aemond who takes you now that you are weak and soft.

You can't take it anymore and that is when you break, on his cock and when you finally find pleasure. Your moans are fast and greedy as the prince allows you to come with a cheeky grin on his face.

After you are done for, you feel him grab your tired hips and sink inside of you, much more painful than he was before. He roughly trusts and you whimper.

After a rough few minutes you hear the prince hiss and feel him push one final time. “I'm going to come now, bastard.” You hear him grunt.

You wonder what he means. That is until you feel a soft sharp pain and him finally leaving you be.

You sit up, looking at the bloodied spot at the sheets. Prince Aemond rubs his cock, as you lay on your side watching. When he is done there is white substance on his fingers. “Suck.” He tells you as if you are his mere pet.

You sit up straight, crying the moment that you do of muscle pain between your legs and your hips. Yet you bravely continue knowing the prince does not like to wait.

Your head is grabbed roughly and your mouth is forced open. The cock is put inside and your lips close around his head, sucking it.

The prince sighs of relief and pleasure, nodding in approval as you slowly work on his cock. “Such a good pet.” He says.

You like hearing that. “Coming on my cock, and in front of your friend who is in love with you.” Aemond grins cruelly.

You avoid looking at Daros and him both as you feel shame and clear regret building inside of you. “Don't feel bad, little pet. You didn't stand a chance. That cunny wanted a cock so badly. I never had a bedmate that desperate.” you refuse to acknowledge him.

The prince takes his cock out now that it's cleaned. You sit back on the bed, your thoughts racing. Prince Aemond dresses himself, clearly not intending to stay with you. “Go sit against the headboard.” He tells you.

You obey at first. Until you see he is holding chains. Your smile dies and your worry grows as you already shake your head. “No, this is not needed. I don't need-”

“I do not trust you to stay. I liked fucking you, pet. So I have no intention to let you go.” He reveals as he comes a little closer.

“What about me? What will happen now that you made me watch her fuck?” Daros asks, spitting out the question and glaring at you.

“You sound angry.” Aemond concludes with a smile.

“I am.”

To you he glares. “I can't believe I liked you. You are no better than your sisters. You are just as much of a slut. It should have been obvious when you killed your father you’d do anything for this sick fuck.’’ He says. ‘’O, and your mother? If she knew this, she would be disappointed. Yes, she is alive.’’

You receive the one after the other heartbreaking news and to hear today of all days that your mother is alive is madness.

And to hear that he knew. Perhaps a day. Perhaps a week. A month? A year? A decade?

It does not matter what he knew. It does not matter what you know. And judging by Aemond’s smirk he is not coming to your aid either.

You eye the dagger on the bed, rage controlling you and for the first time in your life, you feel free as you rush at it, grab it from the bed and prepare to stab someone with it.

At first Aemond looks afraid, scared and worried. You rush over, you take a leap and stab, right into the heart of…

Daros. Aemond releases a gasp of surprise as you drive the dagger through Daros’s heard, rapidly stabbing him when tears and snot stream out of your eyes and nose. Your naked body becomes soaked with blood as you take your anger and frustration out on Daros.

You don’t stop until it has become awfully quiet around you. Aemond has taken a seat in a chair, watching you intrigued with clear lust in his good eye, playing with his eyepatch. You look down at the man you saw once as a brother, aware that you killed him.

You drop the knife. You begin to cry. And you shake his body so violently that a cut of his arm rolls off, that you somehow sliced off. ‘’Daros?’’ Come back. Fuck. No. No!’ You scream at his corpse, hitting him across his face with weak little slaps.

He is gone. Aemond stands up when you scream, perhaps at the gods, perhaps at yourself. He kneels down beside you, kissing your bloodied hands and licking away the tears and blood in your face, his hands quickly disarming you before you can stab him. “I love it when you surrender to your dark desires.” He whispers. ‘’Now get to bed. I won’t ask again.’’ He ties you up and leaves you there, bloodied and naked. He walks past the corpse of Daros, chuckling before he takes the dagger out.

You watch as Aemond cuts loose his head, and kicks against it, sending it in the direction of the door. He picks the head up as if it's a ball and locks the door behind him when he leaves, leaving you in a confused and utterly broken mental state.

A/N:

Yall ever think that snowfall aemond and ashes burn aemond went to each others houses and had a good nice talk and a coffee? because i wouldnt question it.

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 month ago

Text

HEHEHE!

Thank you for still reading and leaving a lovely comment friend!!

dont know what id do without friends like you

Chains of Bones: Chapter 6: Mirrors of Truths. dark! god!aemond x readerrr

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Summary: You are a servant working for the goddess Rhaenyra and the God Daemon. You are tasked with protecting the flowers and one day, you find yourself captured by rhaenyra's greatest enemy: Aemond.

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

WARNINGS: Misogny, (no kidding) emotional manpulation, dubcon, body betrayl, vaginal sex (f recv) oral sex (f recev) rough sex, mentions of loss of virginty, emotional gaslighting and gore, blood, and a lot of...BONES.

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:7041 (WE'RE SO BACK!!!)

Rhaenyra’s pov.

Her heels tick against the stone tiles that have decorated the castle for an eternity. Her dress follows her around with every turn she takes, the scroll clutched in her right hand, with the burning tower sigil torn half open. The doors are pushed open, and her husband, Prince Daemon, the Dragon King enters. She longs to fall into his arms, to let him take her worries away. But she cannot. She readjusts her crown, the crown of light that has become a dim, soft shimmer.

Daemon sees that his wife is distressed. The lights surrounding her aren’t as bright. Her eyes are puffy from the crying, as she presses a scroll of written parchment into his hands. Her voice tries to sound indifferent and careless, but it comes out as a squeaky, broken and tired sound. “Alicent has defied me.” He carefully reads the letter, skipping most of the sentences as the word of Alicent does not interest him at all. When he notices the word Aemond, he finally stops skipping, and begins to read.

‘’I genuinely believe that Aemond is in love with her, and capable of change, if only given the chance. You as his elder sister, you as the Queen of Light, must head his command and wish to marry the mortal girl.’’ In his head, Daemon’s eyes roll. Rhaenyra has never been fond of anyone, especially not men, commanding her.

Unsurprisingly, the Queen is fuming, watching and waiting for her husband to rage and to curse. It’s not that strange that Rhaenyra is upset. She thought she and Alicent had an understanding. Something that bound the two together. Friendship or something more tragic than that. Destiny and fate. Hurt and death. They both mourned their children. They both regretted how things turned out. At least so she thought.

Daemon does not respond, but his smile says plenty. He expected such a response and had warned his wife plenty of times. Since she's his Queen, he cannot forbid anything. But he did warn her, as she is his love as well. He can't truly deny her anything. He would shoot the stars down from the skies if only she asked. “I warned you. She remains Aemond's mother. She wouldn't want to take his precious toy away.” Alicent described what he saw as well. That Aemond is changing. The Goddess of Justice knows better than anyone what's in his heart. She gave birth to him long ago. She should see through him the way one looks through a shard of glass.

Rhaenyra does not take well to that answer, slamming a glass pillar to the ground, breaking it. The shards shatter around as she sobs, wailing. “He has taken enough from me. He killed Lucerys. I will take his love away. He will bleed like I did.” Daemon had killed plenty of times before. For good reasons. He killed Jaehaerys when he became the God of animals so his own son could get the godhood. He killed his own wife because he simply grew bored of her.

“You know I have vowed to love and follow you.” Daemon says. “I swore I would always defend you and the crown you wear. Defend you from any threats. Do the unspeakable if needed.”

“We don't need to kill her. We can simply take her back and decide her fate here.” Rhaenyra pleads with Daemon to convince him, sensing his rejection. Decide her fate. As if any of this is the girl’s fault. Aemond kidnapped her. She didn’t plan any of this.

Daemon takes a step back. “I won't have a hand in this. You haven't seen how Aemond looked. The black and blue spots were gone from his cheekbones…He almost looked like your brother you lost.” He hates how hopeful his voice becomes. Rhaenyra’s stare becomes cold, dark, and a mirror of Aemond’s eyes, in a way.

“The brother that I lost or you, Daemon?” She crosses her arms over her dark red gown. “You two were inseparable before the war broke out.” There is an accusation there. ‘’He clinged to you as if you birthed him yourself. It’s that I know you despise Alicent, or I would’ve questioned things.’’ Daemon feels his stomach turn, hurt by her accusation.

He buried Lucerys with her. He buried Visenya with her. And the Greens buried Jaehaerys. The Greens mourned, as the Blacks cheered, and the Black mourned as the Green cheered. And on and on and on it went, in a never ending dance until all players were eliminated. To what end? For what goal? Immorality, the greater good, being right? Revenge?“I've always mocked Alicent but she has a point. This war cost us Jaehaerys, and Lucerys, Visenya so far. Who is next? Me, you? Mayhaps one of our children? Baela or Viserys?” He must lure her to sense somehow.

Rhaenyra’s eyes fall on the portrait of her children, hanging near her throne. Lucerys smiles at her, his sweet eyes staring at her forever captured in a painting.

Daemon grabs her hands. “I beg of you, Rhaenyra, not as your husband and uncle but as your subject, do the right thing. Do not send Aemond down this dark path again. I am not sure he will come back out this time.” If she truly wants war, a war between light and death, he isn’t sure how many will die…

And worse, he isn’t even sure he can kill Aemond if the need would occur.

“You’ve changed.” She whispers, her heart heavy, as tears sting in her eyes. Heartbroken and betrayed, the young Queen of Light and Realms returns to her lonely throne. She takes a seat and ignores her husband.

The way she stares, it says plenty. She has made up her mind. It will be war. A bloody war.

He is terrified. For the first time in his life, Daemon Targaryen is terrified. The war will cost millions of lives. “So did you. It's been years since Lucerys died. Jaehaerys was enough. Where does this sudden need for revenge come from?” He asks. ‘’You said you wouldn’t wish what I had done on anyone, and now you want to continue the bloodshed? What aren’t you telling me?’’

Rhaenyra understands that Daemon is onto her. He will figure out the truth sooner rather than later. And what lie is better than the truth? If he knows the full truth: He will forbid Rhaenyra for doing what she must do, to ensure her victory and her reign in this war. If he doesn’t know, or if she slightly altered the truth, in the end, he will choose her. He will forgive her. He always does. “I'm pregnant.” It is true.

Daemon seems surprised by the announcement, shocked if anything. He stares at the Queen’s belly. “It's to be another girl.” Rhaenyra adds. ‘’Since you remember what happened to Visenya, you can say I’ve become extra watchful. Aemond is out for blood. He wants that mortal bitch to become immortal. You told me so yourself. And our new child would become a perfect little goddess, don’t you think? If we were to eliminate Aemond-’’

‘’You speak of upsetting the balance of nature.’’ Daemon whispers, shaking his head. ‘’I mourned a daughter too, that day, Rhaenyra-’’

She stands up, getting in his face, her body shaking with barely composed anger.

‘’You didn’t mourn her the way I did. You didn’t push her out of your body, bleeding and screaming as a slaughtered pig as I ripped her from my body, dead and scaled as a monstrous lizard! You only wanted to invade the Crownlands and punish Aegon. You once were the man who didn’t do what was good, but what was needed! What has changed?’’

“Aren't we better off, letting Aemond have this one victory? She's a human girl. She was kidnapped in our garden but he claims he loves her.” He mutters, but he feels she’s winning him over. He can feel his walls lowering, his shields fading….

And so can she.

Rhaenyra smiles, taking his hands into her own. “That is part of the issue. If Aemond gets his hands on a spare Godhood and allows his love to kill a God, she becomes a Goddess. You know all too well that our children are his intended and preferred target.” She tells him. ‘’You promised Laena you’d look after your daughters. Surely you don’t intend for them to die on Aemond’s chopping block?’’

Daemon is a god made of flesh and bone but he’s not an idiot, despite many claim otherwise. He can tell that Rhaenyra only tries to play him. “Jacaerys and his children with Baela are accounted for and safe. The Goddess of Salt and The Sea God have offered her refuge.” Rhaenys and Corlys will keep them safe. Rhaenyra knows they are powerful and far away at the moment. Aemond would have trouble reaching them. He would prefer a smaller, closer target. Which is why she’s sending her children far, wide, and spread out.

But Rhaenyra is not just a mother to her own children. Not since she married Daemon. There is the case of Rhaena. “Your other daughter, the Goddess of Alteration? Is she safe too?’’ She asks. ‘’If she needs any help finding shelter-’’

Daemon smiles, seeing a shimmer of the old Rhaenyra back. “Rhaena has seeked shelter too. We all lay low for now. We do as we must.”

It is silent for some time.

Time goes on, moving forward.

Yet they remain, unmoving and silent as stones.

Until he speaks.

“I want him back, Rhaenyra. I want my nephew back. I want…Peace.’’ He adds, softly.

Rhaenyra snorts and she never looked more like Aemond then than she does now.

“He's your brother.” He says, trying to change her mind.

She shrugs. She has one brother. One sister. And two parasites. “Half brother. He and Aegon stole my throne. They divided the realm, usurped me and my father.”

Daemon chuckles at her deflection. ‘’And the son of your friend. I was heir once. Until you supplanted me. The way Aegon supplanted you.” He reaches out, touching her crown…

A bright light blinds him, as Rhaenyra holds him away from her, with her magic. Invisible hands hold and choke Daemon, warning him to not try that again.

“You touch it at your own peril.” She warns him. ‘’I won’t hurt you, but I don’t want anyone touching what’s mine.’’ She adds, her voice breaking as she sees how much pain Daemon is enduring.

He glares the moment he is freed, aware not ever will he be her equal. He will always be the second son. “Yes, your Grace.” He grits out, preparing to leave the room.

The doors are once again, pushed open.

Their mortal guard enters, led by ser Harrold. He makes a bow for Rhaenyra, his face white with fear and anguish. Rhaenyra and Daemon share a look, as they both seem to already read the situation from his face. They might fight as any couple, but they are not any couple. They are Gods, they have responsibility. The realm must come first. Always.

Harrold does not waste a moment. “My queen, I've come bearing terrible news.” Rhaenyra's hands somehow lay on her stomach already. The same stomach she harbored and protected six children in. A seventh soon.

Harrold has been her loyal protector ever since she was little. “The convoy carrying the young Prince Aegon.” Rhaenyra clutches her stomach.

Daemon takes the word for now.

“Yes?”

Two guards bring in two corpses, of two other mortal guards, slain brutally. Rhaenyra never saw anyone killed like this. Their eyes ripped from their skulls, their throats flayed open and their entire organic system visible. Her son. Her poor son. He must be so frightened.

“It has been attacked. The young god of animals…He is missing.” Daemon glances at his wife, and has a split moment to capture her before she would hit her head on the marble, fainting. ‘’We are almost certain it was Aemond’s doing. What do you want us to do, my King?’’ Harrold asks a dumbstruck Daemon. ‘’We all await your answer.’’

—

Petal’s pov.

“Do you approve of it?” You gesture to the strange bodice made of dark black lace, giving contrast to your red gown. You look like a Queen of death, in all ways. Ann helped you brush your hair and put it up in a beautiful knot. The King of the underworld is meanwhile changing the colours of petals of roses; as if he cannot decide between the two options you see.

Dark red petals the colour of blood, or a soft hopeful blush shade the colour of a sunrise. You clear your throat, trying to get his attention. He finally sees you, gawks, stops his magic, and nearly falls out of his chair by the sudden movements his body makes, shocked by your sudden appearance. The vase falls over spilling the flowers over the table.

You chuckle, adoring it. He seems furious at first and embarrassed, as he puts the flowers back in the golden vase.

But you don't laugh at him or the vase.

You feel free. You feel as if you have power. For the first time in your entire life, you are the one in power. You made the God of the underworld nervous. The King of Death.

He sees your eyes. Your joy. Careful and composed, hidden and barely visible, the corner of his lips slightly rise, approving. “I can change if you don't like it…” You offer, extending him an olive branch. He said he would tell you the truth at long last. You would do almost anything for it.

“You look so effortlessly eternal.” He stands up and within a blink he's behind you. You notice he didn't deck the table at the two heads, but instead decked the place right of him. “I thought about our little argument. It is silly. You want to wear pants, you say. Well, I allow it. You want to wear poofy gowns, I allow it. You are the person I love for you, not for what you wear.”

He loves you? He surely said it before. But now it feels…Real. You feel your face become warm, as you avoid his eye, staring at your hands.

“I-”

He kisses your cheeks, caressing your horns gently, inspecting them. You allow it all.

“Have my horns grown?” You wonder. “Ann said they have changed when she was adjusting my hair.”

He nods, and you expect him to be joyful about this development. Instead you see a stern unmoving line on his lips, the slight case of worry and the dread in his one eye.

“Slightly, just a tiny bit. You should know they are changing colour. They have become slightly grayish.” They were black before. What is happening?

“What does that mean, please, tell me.” you nearly beg, worried and dread filling you by the sight of his fear.

Aemond thinks on whether to cook up another lie or to finally give you the truth. He shakes his head and wants to pretend you never asked him, but you stop him in his tracks by grabbing his arm. “It's about your destiny. It means we don't have the time I thought we had.” That answer is so horrible, so suffocating that you wish he had told you a lie.

“Aemond, you are scaring me.” You confess, your voice soft.

He sighs. “I am just being honest, unfortunately.” He doesn't meet your eyes, staring at his bloodied nails. “You wanted the truth. I deceived and lied for long enough. You are my love. My Queen. You deserve to know.” He adds. “I was worried, telling you would chase you away. Or worse…” A silence falls between you.

“Can I be honest as well?” You ask.

“Depends.” Aemond murmurs, uncomfortable all of a sudden. You give him some time. “Yes.” He says, eventually and sits down bracing himself for the impact of your words.

You start. “I didn't think you would even think about our arguments. I didn't think you would even be able to reflect, let alone change your whole stance. I thought your way was the way things would go.” You admit, softly. His head snaps up in your direction.

He chuckles, hiding behind his cocky shield.

“Oh, things still will go as I want, don't you worry. I just want…” the shield shatters before your eyes and all that's left is a little boy. “My parents never loved each other.” He says, and the way he says it sounds as if he deeply regrets it. It surprises you.

You are an orphan. You don't even know who your parents are. You do imagine you would like it for your parents if they had not left you to be together. “I am sorry.”

He seems to appreciate it. But it has been a while that this is torturing him. “Don't be. He was a wicked monster. Capable of great sins.” You frown. He's describing a monster.

“What was his greatest sin?” You ask.

Aemond doesn't waste a moment.

“...Sloth, no doubt. Just waiting around for things to fall in place. We were like a castle and our pillars were made of salt and sand. We were collapsing. We needed our father. My mother needed her husband. All he did was shit, drink, throw a ball and spend time with his grandchildren.” He becomes more and more vocal as he progresses, his hands repeatedly playing with his rings.

You have seen Rhaenyra do the same, countless times actually. It is one of the few things that seem to connect them.

He makes his voice extra Soft and timid. “Most children would be grateful to be reunited with their dead parents.” He whispers. You nod. You feel a sting.

Because you don't even know if your parents are still alive.“I prefer not going to the place below, the hells, because I know he's there as well. Even in his death I'm not freed of the imbecile.” He rolls his eye, as if picturing his father burning below. “I was mutilated for my life and all he cared about was Rhaenyra.”

You feel something stir inside of you. “He didn't care what I lost. I never mattered to him. He never glanced my way. Not even when he was alive. Not even becoming a god could cause him to blink twice in my direction.”

He sounds as a terrible man. “Can you free yourself of him? Throw in a fire or something?” He laughs, a joyful happy laugh. Sincere and sweet.

You are glad he seems to lose his anger again. “I adore your wicked, vicious creative mind.” He whispers, softly pecking your lips. “But no, my darling dearest. There are rules. Rules of nature that even I sadly must follow. But once his time is up, he'll burn and scream so long. And i'll be there to watch every painful moment for him. Mayhaps, you too shall come with me, and we can revel in his suffering together.” He fantasises, smiling.

You try to understand the rules of this place. It sounds as if Aemond is not the one making them. Something else, something ancient has set up the rules and he is to follow it. It seems that he's not responsible for the suffering as you thought.

He is not as terrifying as you thought.

“I thought death was the end. Something ungodly and something scary where there are no rules.” You begin, uncertain where you are going.

Aemond sees it different, offering you your seat nearby. “Death is part of life. It's like a flame casting shadow. Light without shadow cannot exist. And neither can life without death. It is a matter of balance. Balance is of utmost importance. without balance, no peace.” He says, as if it's that simple. “I could break the rules. In truth, some might say I do so by keeping you here. But I'm not a big fan of cheating. I abuse the system and find loopholes; I'll admit it. But you can't say I ever broke a rule.” he chuckles.

You recall how he kidnapped you.

“Daemon sold me to you as well.” You huff, uncomfortable at the memory. Aemond’s smile vanishes and he looks guilty and upset.

He thinks and speaks, picking his words carefully. “He did not want to at first. He wanted to keep you. He was uncertain of what would become of your fate. Once I…I told him of our bond, he agreed.” So sudden. So kind. So unlike him. Unlike anyone you ever met. No one does anything for free.

“What did Daemon get out of this arrangement?” You wonder. Aemond’s quick frown and worry betrays he didn't wonder about that as well earlier. He just assumed Daemon would grant him this? But why?

He plays with his rings, lost in thought. Then he chuckles as it clicks by him. “Hm. Sometimes, Petal, we need to see the bigger picture before we can understand the smaller pieces.” He tells you. “I've got all the truth for you. Just ask and you shall receive, my beloved Queen.”

You think. So long, you wanted to ask him anything. And now when you can you almost lose track of all the questions. Where to possibly start?

You think of how he captured you. You, an orphan girl…

The children that witch killed. The orphans. You wonder how they are doing. Are they here too? Hidden in a room somewhere? Or are they perhaps somewhere worse? ‘I know It seemed like I manipulated you. perhaps I tried. But I'd really like to know for my own sake and because of my own background: what happened to the children that witch murdered? Did you perhaps resurrect them?”

He is silent for some time. But not because he will lie again. Because he will tell the truth. And that truth is so horrible that it even makes the King of death pause. “I do have that power, Petal. To decide over life and death.” he avoids looking at you, at anything really. “But what these children went through, the horror of them being hurt or even being abused by their own families…” There is a painful hidden crack in his voice. “I could not care for them, myself. Keep them here, feed them here. It would be dangerous. I could not trust the world to not hurt them either. Souls of children are often so pure. I didn't even see a single one of them, here in the Underworld. I assume that after they passed, they went to the Better place.”

You think of the dozens of innocent children.

“What will you do with that witch?” You ask.

Aemond smirks, telling you enough. It will be painful and terrible. For some reason, you like that. You enjoy the way he smirks. You enjoy him killing that terrible woman. Torturing her for every child she killed. “I haven't decided yet. You see, it's my duty to make sure every soul is punished for their crimes. But her crimes aren't…She didn't do it because she was hungry or in debt. She did it for her pure sickened heart.” So there is some sort of justice and good in him. Hidden. Very thin as a lake of water that just started to freeze.

“Never mind she tried to kill my Queen and my future wife. That is also being considered when discussing her punishment.” He says remembering how you were attacked.

“I have no reason to lie to you so I won't. She's a monster.” He concludes. “I have no issue torturing her, don't worry about that. I do have to decide what to do with her soul.”

He took you here. He endangered you. You are aware of that. “Are all people here as that? Monsters?” You need to know for your own sake. You need to know who you're up against.

He shakes his head. “No. Some made wrong choices, some are here for unfinished business. I am your King, your God but also your future husband, Petal. I won't let anyone hurt you.” He says, as if he reads your thoughts. He even dares to grasp your hands and kiss your knuckles.

That makes sense. Then his mask returns. “So. You want to talk as a couple. Begin.” The King is back and gone is the man. He challenges you to uphold your part of the agreement. You have never been on any sort of romantic date before.

You need a moment truth be told. What do couples do on dates? Well, they get to know one another. “Uhm, well. What is your most positive trait or quality?” You say, after you had time to catch your breath and adjust to the comfortable chair. Aemond leans with his hand on his arm, staring at your bodice as he begins to smirk.

You assume a cocky answer. “I am the King of death, darling. I don't have any.” He says, as if it's that simple. Except it's not. He said it himself.

Anyone can see the cocky smirk of the King. Few can see the pain in his eye. You can, however. He sees himself lowly. “Respectfully, someone told me that Light cannot exist without shadow. Therefore, Shadow cannot exist without light.” He groans at your answer but also cannot hide his laugh. You continue. “You have a very strong sense of justice. And a big sense of duty. You remain calm in hectic situations and you-” He stops smiling, and you stop talking.

The King of the Underworld is silent. He plays with the rings. Unhappy and afraid he is not good enough. “I don't see that as something positive. I don't remain calm, my love. I simply don't feel emotions the way normal beings do. My heart isn't…” he puts his hand on his heart to explain but you stop him, capturing his hands. You need him to feel how much you care.

“I disagree.” you say, unaware of him staring at your hand on his own. “You don't have your heart, maybe. But you can't hide it from me that you have feelings. You feel strongly.” Aemond doesn't reply to that, but he does stare at the roses. You understand it's not for gods and immortal beings to feel or to admit it. Let along for the King of Death.

You want him to know he's not alone. “I am not a saint, Aemond. Before Rhaenyra took me in, I stole and I lied. I had to steal my food and sleep in houses promising money I never gave.” He nods, along with your words. He already knew that.

Then he shakes his head. “You are fiercely loyal. Brave. You rebelled against me. Me, the God of death itself.” You roll your eyes, touched but also not that impressed by your own accomplishments.

You know. He would not harm you.

“You wouldn't harm me.”

He doesn't answer you, huffing softly. As if the irony has finally hit him. “All I did was to protect you. You can never forget that.”

You feel anxiety taking root. It buries through your stomach, hurting you as you realize you and Aemond are alone. “I'd like to ask you a few things, if you don't mind. For example, where you learned my real name. And I also like to know why Daemon would even want me back.” You say.

Aemond plays with the rings again. You see the smile die on his lips, and his gaze hardens as the King comes before the man again. You understand you won't get your answers at all. Not from him. “My sources must be protected, Petal. Even from you. I can't tell you more than that.”

You will throw something. “And Daemon? Care to tell me how and what he gets in return from me?” You ask, your voice becoming sharper too.

You picture the endless lies and ways he can lie around this. But he does not even put in the effort to tell you the lie. “No.” And just like that, the walls are back and so is the King.

You feel tears burn. You got your hopes up. For nothing. “I want answers. You promised me I would get them. I am entitled to them.” You say, for you won’t give up now.

He chuckles. “You wont get them from me, little Petal. You don't want to know the answers to your questions, trust me. You'll go upstairs now and to your rooms.”

You won't be chased away again.

You have run from the truth for too long.

It's time you faced it.

“And if I were to become your Queen?” He stares at you, caught as a deer staring at a forest fire. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out as you cup his face. You watch the blood that leaves his hair drip down his shoulders. You don't break eye contact and you won't leave for the world. “If you love me, if we truly are meant for one another, we will end up together. You know this as much as I do. I'll be your wife. I'll be your Queen. The Mother of your children?” That really drives him over the line.

He freezes, startled. You have him right where you want him. “I don't think you know what that entails.” He adds nervously. “Having a child is…a messy situation. And I don't think you love me. Not truly.”

You roll your eyes.

“Like this?” You ask before kissing him on his mouth. Aemond briefly freezes but accepts your kiss, leaning in and caresses your face. He is so gentle. So unlike him. ‘’Maybe you are right. I don’t know what I feel, Aemond. I have never been in love before. I wouldn’t know it if it hit me in the face.’’

“Why have you changed your mind?” You whisper. He has changed his mind so suddenly.

He is close to breaking. His voice a soft whisper. “I don't want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. And it's all I do. Everyone I love ends up hurt. Or dead.” You reach out. You are sure it's not true. But if Aemond cannot see it, how do you make him see it? Is it possible to create light when all he sees is darkness?

You need him to be strong now. You need him to be truthful. “Tell me. I endured worse than cakes filled with worms and hellfire. I can handle it. Tell me or admit that you don't love me.”

He sighs. But he does accept. He tells you the truth. “The Crown. Do you understand how an amplifier works?” He taps on the crown on his head. You shake your head, confused.

You never heard that word even before…

Yet it somehow is familiar as your own hands.

“No.” You say, staring at the strange relic Aemond never seems to remove.

He gestures with his hands up, and you see impressive tales made of paint tell you and any other viewer history, painted on the ceiling. “Once a hundred years, we are told of our chosen. All gods have one person. A chosen. Something about those humans aligns with us gods. I barely sacrificed any chosen, so I don't understand what it does, truth be told. But it boosts our abilities. The chosen are crowned as stags. Horns grow out of their heads after a while.”

You feel him touch your horns. “And slaughtered brutally.” He adds. “The horns, the horns, is how we recognize them.” He whispers as you feel your entire world crumble to dust. You stare at him, crying. In tears. He is going to sacrifice you.

You choke on your own tears, the pain biter and true. “I am your chosen. That's why I am truly here. You'll kill me for more power.” You never imagined it. You thought he would have a line he wouldn't cross. That you were his love. That you were something precious and holy. That someone, anyone, could love you.

You were wrong.

You step away, your tears burning. You feel so stupid. Aemond captures you easily. And when you look at his eyes, glaring, you see he is crying too. You freeze as blood drips from his eyelid. One side red, one side black.

“You aren't my chosen, my love.” He whispers gently. You frown, confused.

He takes a deep breath. “But you are Rhaenyra's. That is why she's so eager to get you back. So she can slit your throat and tear the horns from your skull and thrive in your youth and blood. It's why I stole you from her. We are meant to be together, but she is an obstacle. A dangerous goddess out for your blood.”

You shake your head, refusing to believe it. “Rhaenyra has been nothing but kind.” You stutter. “You must be misinformed. She never would do anything to harm me.”

He chuckles. “Wouldn't she? Is that why she lied to you your whole life?”

But judging Aemond's reaction, judging the way Rhaenyra is so eager to get you back, and what Aemond told you, it is hard to ignore the signs. “You wanted answers, Petal. I shall grant them to you. Answers that will hurt. It will leave a hole. But in time; we will fill it together.” He holds your hands gently.

You shake your head, afraid as you sob.

“I don't think I want the answers anymore-”

Aemond sighs. “I must show you now. It's for the best.” He says, to himself. You watch as he creates a tall large mirror. When he waves over it, an image appears.

It's a beach. A lovely beach where a family lives in a small hut. Two people take care of a crying baby. You never see their faces. But you do see the baby. You don't understand what you are watching.

The parents take the baby out of the hut. They plan to take it somewhere.

A wave comes out of nowhere, a wave unlike any wave you saw before. A wave so powerful and cruel that somehow you know it is not nature. It's immortality. It's the work of a God.

The hut is pushed back into the sea as the baby screams, alone on the shore as the parents drown. You begin to sob a little louder, as you begin to realize Aemond didn't show you a random baby. He is showing you a memory. Your earliest memory.

You reach for the mirror, your soft sniffles becoming sobs. You cling to it, eager to see their faces. Eager to see your parents. You cursed them, hated them, resented them. And what did they do, besides love and protect you? You press your fingers against the glass as tears fall down, your body shaking with sobs. “Who was the cause of this? Those people…are those people…?”

Aemond doesn't speak a word but joins you near the mirror on the ground. He sits behind you and holds you, caressing your face. When he speaks, his words hit like blows. His voice is gentle and that makes it only worse. He pities you. “You were the only survivor.” Somehow, that makes it feel real. His confirmation that your parents are truly gone, makes it real and …devasting.

They are dead.

Truly gone.

“Why didn't I die?” You whisper. A cruel question to ask in front of the man who went through so much trouble to protect you. He seems uncomfortable, as if placed in a for him unfamiliar situation.

You spent years hating them.

“I dont know-” Aemond mutters, but you don't believe him.

You spend years wishing they had died if they were alive, for leaving you.

“Why didn't I die with my family?!” You scream, glaring at him as if it's his Fault.

They loved you.

They never left you.

They never once didn't love you.

They protected you until the end.

You burst into sobs, covering your mouth as you replay the events over and over and over again. You always imagined how your parents looked. They look the same as you, in some ways, and different in others.

Aemond rubs your back carefully, first trying out if he's allowed to touch you at all. Then he touches your back, and somehow it does not hurt you. It does not burn you. “Its complicated. The storm you see was caused by a god. In all accounts; you should have died. Us gods can kill others chosen.”

He takes a deep breath, before rambling. “I recently killed Jace's chosen for one.” He tries to distract you. “Petal, I know the wound is fresh and deep. I beg of you, please stop hurting yourself for now. Put the mirror away, my love.” Your eyes finally leave the mirror, as the baby is crying again, alone.

Aemond offers you his hand.

You stand up, with his help.

You want to collapse the moment you stand.

“So a goddess is after me, and it's likely she murdered my parents?” You summerize.

He makes movements with his hands as he thinks, shaking his head.

“Something protected you. I know it wasn't me, I didn't know of you just yet. It's unlikely that Rhaenyra would kill you before your horns had riped, and even the god who caused the storm didn't even know you were there or that you would grow up to be a chosen. None of us knew yet. That's what makes this all so vague.”

You understand Aemond knows who did this.

Aemond knows who killed your parents.

Who made you grow up the way you did.

Unloved and unwanted.

Crying yourself to sleep because you wanted anyone, someone, to love you.

He knows.

“Who's the God who did this?” You ask, gesturing to the mirror. Aemond waves his hand over the glass, and the image disappears. You feel angry and thankful that he did that at the same time. Angry because he took away your parents, in a way. But thankful because you wouldn't have stopped torturing yourself.

A new one appears of a young boy, with dark black hair, wearing a smile, and playing with Rhaenyra and her children. You know him well. You often were allowed around the other royals. Your blood boils. You played with this monster, you protected it, told it bedtime stories. What did it do in return? Kill your parents.

The King sits back down, on the chair. You don’t notice his satisfied smirk and crossed legs as he enjoys watching you boil with anger. That would be Joffrey. I believe that’s the King of Storms. He was quite young. He threw a tantrum.” A tantrum.

A child. A child did that. Because a child cannot control their emotions. Aemond is an adult, and he barely can master the emotions and the power he wields. What is a child supposed to do with such ungodly powers? “A child has no use of a godhood nor the right to hold it. He's the reason I'm an orphan. Rhaenyra knew. She knew and she let me share bread and water with that murderer.” You say, glaring at the image.

Aemond chuckles warmly, wrapping his arms around you. When he presses you to his chest, you feel a faint spark. “Mhm. You see, she has some troubling times. Her chosen is a hostage of her enemy, and her circle of trusted friends is growing ever smaller. She prefers having a spoon in every meal. Death, life, resurrection, nature. But it no longer works that way. That makes her desperate, that makes her afraid. And that makes her dangerous.” That’s why he took you when he did.

“You see now, there was no time to explain. I had to take you right away. My brother lately ascended to godhood. Daeron. He took the Godhood of the War with him. Rhaenyra put it under the care of one of her minions. Now that minion is dead.” He says cheerfully as if he is not discussing murder.

You frown, aware where this conversation is going. “How did Daeron kill the other gods? I thought you were immortal?” You remark, asking for Aemond’s input.

Aemond points to the crown on his head, smirking. “All of us have a talisman. You must destroy it, and drive a dagger made of pure silver through our hearts.” His crown.

He does something unexpected. He rises. And finally, he kneels. You are aware he’s holding his breath. “I don't want to lose you. I want you to become my goddess. My Queen. I want you to become immortal. Do you want that, Petal?”

You frown, unsure. Do you want that? To live forever? It seemed out of the question. It seemed as a fantasy. Something a child would dream of. Because only a child could dream of it, knowing you would watch everyone you love die. “I don't know. I'd have to kill someone. I never did that before. I'd have people to look after. Souls to guide. I don't know, Aemond. I'm a failure. I don't know how to manage my own life let alone help others.” You admit, sniffling.

He smiles, kissing your forehead, taking deep breaths as he calms you both down.

“You are anything but a failure.” He whispers. ‘’You saved me.’’ You don’t feel as a savor.

Aemond suddenly frowns, lifting his head, as he turns his head towards the windows overlooking the mountain tops. You follow his gaze. ‘’Something wrong?’’ You ask, as Aemond begins to smirk wider, broader, and bigger.

‘’Just a package that came in early. Nothing to worry about for now. Just think about what I said. I want to protect you, but if you were to become a goddess, you wouldn’t need my protection. You’d be able to explode people and to throw them from rocks.’’ He chuckles, adoring that image of you killing people. You, you are rather horrified by the idea. He seems to notice your hesitation and sighs, kissing your hands. ‘’Just think about it. That’s all I ask.’’ You sigh, understanding that he’s right. He cannot protect you forever. You have to decide…get killed, or murder someone.

fight or die.

..................................................

I'm so sorry it took some long but i rather I know what im doing nowadays than that i make sh*t up last minute and basically ruin it for 1. readers 2. me, because id be like ''well, thank you, f*cking past me, how the f*ck am i supposed to make this mess ok again?'' xD and now im like, excited, yes, so the cat is out of the bag. Rhaenyra wants to kill her. I saw someone who had a very close guess to this, saying it would be Aemond, but no, its sweet Rhaenyra.

also petal learning the truth about her parents...

thank you, if you're still around!!!!!!!

if you saw me copy the title/description from my past COB post, no you didnt.

#aemond targaryen #fic recs #lovely friends

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 month ago

Text

Chains of Bones: Chapter 6: Mirrors of Truths. dark! god!aemond x readerrr

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:7041 (WE'RE SO BACK!!!)

Rhaenyra’s pov.

“You know I have vowed to love and follow you.” Daemon says. “I swore I would always defend you and the crown you wear. Defend you from any threats. Do the unspeakable if needed.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes fall on the portrait of her children, hanging near her throne. Lucerys smiles at her, his sweet eyes staring at her forever captured in a painting.

And worse, he isn’t even sure he can kill Aemond if the need would occur.

The way she stares, it says plenty. She has made up her mind. It will be war. A bloody war.

‘’You speak of upsetting the balance of nature.’’ Daemon whispers, shaking his head. ‘’I mourned a daughter too, that day, Rhaenyra-’’

She stands up, getting in his face, her body shaking with barely composed anger.

And so can she.

Daemon smiles, seeing a shimmer of the old Rhaenyra back. “Rhaena has seeked shelter too. We all lay low for now. We do as we must.”

It is silent for some time.

Time goes on, moving forward.

Yet they remain, unmoving and silent as stones.

Until he speaks.

“I want him back, Rhaenyra. I want my nephew back. I want…Peace.’’ He adds, softly.

Rhaenyra snorts and she never looked more like Aemond then than she does now.

“He's your brother.” He says, trying to change her mind.

She shrugs. She has one brother. One sister. And two parasites. “Half brother. He and Aegon stole my throne. They divided the realm, usurped me and my father.”

Daemon chuckles at her deflection. ‘’And the son of your friend. I was heir once. Until you supplanted me. The way Aegon supplanted you.” He reaches out, touching her crown…

A bright light blinds him, as Rhaenyra holds him away from her, with her magic. Invisible hands hold and choke Daemon, warning him to not try that again.

He glares the moment he is freed, aware not ever will he be her equal. He will always be the second son. “Yes, your Grace.” He grits out, preparing to leave the room.

The doors are once again, pushed open.

Harrold has been her loyal protector ever since she was little. “The convoy carrying the young Prince Aegon.” Rhaenyra clutches her stomach.

Daemon takes the word for now.

“Yes?”

—

Petal’s pov.

You chuckle, adoring it. He seems furious at first and embarrassed, as he puts the flowers back in the golden vase.

But you don't laugh at him or the vase.

You feel free. You feel as if you have power. For the first time in your entire life, you are the one in power. You made the God of the underworld nervous. The King of Death.

He loves you? He surely said it before. But now it feels…Real. You feel your face become warm, as you avoid his eye, staring at your hands.

“I-”

He kisses your cheeks, caressing your horns gently, inspecting them. You allow it all.

“Have my horns grown?” You wonder. “Ann said they have changed when she was adjusting my hair.”

He nods, and you expect him to be joyful about this development. Instead you see a stern unmoving line on his lips, the slight case of worry and the dread in his one eye.

“Slightly, just a tiny bit. You should know they are changing colour. They have become slightly grayish.” They were black before. What is happening?

“What does that mean, please, tell me.” you nearly beg, worried and dread filling you by the sight of his fear.

“Aemond, you are scaring me.” You confess, your voice soft.

“Can I be honest as well?” You ask.

“Depends.” Aemond murmurs, uncomfortable all of a sudden. You give him some time. “Yes.” He says, eventually and sits down bracing himself for the impact of your words.

He chuckles, hiding behind his cocky shield.

You are an orphan. You don't even know who your parents are. You do imagine you would like it for your parents if they had not left you to be together. “I am sorry.”

He seems to appreciate it. But it has been a while that this is torturing him. “Don't be. He was a wicked monster. Capable of great sins.” You frown. He's describing a monster.

“What was his greatest sin?” You ask.

Aemond doesn't waste a moment.

You have seen Rhaenyra do the same, countless times actually. It is one of the few things that seem to connect them.

He makes his voice extra Soft and timid. “Most children would be grateful to be reunited with their dead parents.” He whispers. You nod. You feel a sting.

He sounds as a terrible man. “Can you free yourself of him? Throw in a fire or something?” He laughs, a joyful happy laugh. Sincere and sweet.

He is not as terrifying as you thought.

“I thought death was the end. Something ungodly and something scary where there are no rules.” You begin, uncertain where you are going.

You recall how he kidnapped you.

“Daemon sold me to you as well.” You huff, uncomfortable at the memory. Aemond’s smile vanishes and he looks guilty and upset.

You think. So long, you wanted to ask him anything. And now when you can you almost lose track of all the questions. Where to possibly start?

You think of how he captured you. You, an orphan girl…

You think of the dozens of innocent children.

“What will you do with that witch?” You ask.

“Never mind she tried to kill my Queen and my future wife. That is also being considered when discussing her punishment.” He says remembering how you were attacked.

“I have no reason to lie to you so I won't. She's a monster.” He concludes. “I have no issue torturing her, don't worry about that. I do have to decide what to do with her soul.”

He took you here. He endangered you. You are aware of that. “Are all people here as that? Monsters?” You need to know for your own sake. You need to know who you're up against.

You assume a cocky answer. “I am the King of death, darling. I don't have any.” He says, as if it's that simple. Except it's not. He said it himself.

You know. He would not harm you.

“You wouldn't harm me.”

He doesn't answer you, huffing softly. As if the irony has finally hit him. “All I did was to protect you. You can never forget that.”

You will throw something. “And Daemon? Care to tell me how and what he gets in return from me?” You ask, your voice becoming sharper too.

You picture the endless lies and ways he can lie around this. But he does not even put in the effort to tell you the lie. “No.” And just like that, the walls are back and so is the King.

You feel tears burn. You got your hopes up. For nothing. “I want answers. You promised me I would get them. I am entitled to them.” You say, for you won’t give up now.

He chuckles. “You wont get them from me, little Petal. You don't want to know the answers to your questions, trust me. You'll go upstairs now and to your rooms.”

You won't be chased away again.

You have run from the truth for too long.

It's time you faced it.

You roll your eyes.

“Why have you changed your mind?” You whisper. He has changed his mind so suddenly.

You need him to be strong now. You need him to be truthful. “Tell me. I endured worse than cakes filled with worms and hellfire. I can handle it. Tell me or admit that you don't love me.”

He sighs. But he does accept. He tells you the truth. “The Crown. Do you understand how an amplifier works?” He taps on the crown on his head. You shake your head, confused.

You never heard that word even before…

Yet it somehow is familiar as your own hands.

“No.” You say, staring at the strange relic Aemond never seems to remove.

You were wrong.

“You aren't my chosen, my love.” He whispers gently. You frown, confused.

You shake your head, refusing to believe it. “Rhaenyra has been nothing but kind.” You stutter. “You must be misinformed. She never would do anything to harm me.”

He chuckles. “Wouldn't she? Is that why she lied to you your whole life?”

You shake your head, afraid as you sob.

“I don't think I want the answers anymore-”

Aemond sighs. “I must show you now. It's for the best.” He says, to himself. You watch as he creates a tall large mirror. When he waves over it, an image appears.

The parents take the baby out of the hut. They plan to take it somewhere.

A wave comes out of nowhere, a wave unlike any wave you saw before. A wave so powerful and cruel that somehow you know it is not nature. It's immortality. It's the work of a God.

They are dead.

Truly gone.

You spent years hating them.

“I dont know-” Aemond mutters, but you don't believe him.

You spend years wishing they had died if they were alive, for leaving you.

“Why didn't I die with my family?!” You scream, glaring at him as if it's his Fault.

They loved you.

They never left you.

They never once didn't love you.

They protected you until the end.

Aemond offers you his hand.

You stand up, with his help.

You want to collapse the moment you stand.

“So a goddess is after me, and it's likely she murdered my parents?” You summerize.

He makes movements with his hands as he thinks, shaking his head.

You understand Aemond knows who did this.

Aemond knows who killed your parents.

Who made you grow up the way you did.

Unloved and unwanted.

Crying yourself to sleep because you wanted anyone, someone, to love you.

He knows.

You frown, aware where this conversation is going. “How did Daeron kill the other gods? I thought you were immortal?” You remark, asking for Aemond’s input.

Aemond points to the crown on his head, smirking. “All of us have a talisman. You must destroy it, and drive a dagger made of pure silver through our hearts.” His crown.

He smiles, kissing your forehead, taking deep breaths as he calms you both down.

“You are anything but a failure.” He whispers. ‘’You saved me.’’ You don’t feel as a savor.

fight or die.

..................................................

also petal learning the truth about her parents...

thank you, if you're still around!!!!!!!

if you saw me copy the title/description from my past COB post, no you didnt.

56 notes · View notes

safely-in-vhagars-belly · 2 months ago

Text

The Spare: The next chapter.

WARNING: Dark story, contains rape, murder, gore, incest, childloss, death, blood, depression, suicidual themes and manpilation and abuse. If any of these themes trigger or offend you we recommend you turn away now.

If not....

here's the description:

you are Daemons and rhaenyras bastard daughter and you and your twin sister get taken captive by the Greens. Your sister is set to marry Aemond when you are married off to some khal for gold. Things do not go according to plan.

(chapter spoilers, so you know what the f*ck is going on)

Vaella=oc/you/reader

Alyssa=Your twin sister/oc twin sister/readers twin sister

changes:

Aemond never went to storms end, never killed luc.

Alyssa took his eye, not Luc.

Alyssa escaped the castle before Aemond could marry her, but vaella's parents didnt save her.

Thats where we are now.

The pain of breaking bones and losing your child is nothing compared to losing an eye. The dagger still stings in your eye as if it's still being poked around by Aemond. It's gone, back on his belt.

He stands next to you as Orwyle tries his best to stitch the wound close. “It had to be done, for the good of the realm.” Aemond says to someone. You can't make out who. You only see half images and half a black coat, with faint blood on it. That's Aemond's coat…and your blood.

Orwyle sighs deeply, his body closer to your own as you see his pupil Increase and decrease. A clear sign of mockery, of him finding Aemond's word stupid. It is stupid. So stupid that you never once believed you thought it somehow mattered. What does he know, about the world, about you, about anything? What does it matter what he says about you, and your body?

You moan weakly and in pain, clutching your legs. You think of the tea you took. The herbs had been kinder. You would never inflict or sacrifice a child to this monster to begin with. Aemond quietly hums, fiddling with his coin. “Can we, I want her socket to have a gem in it. Like the famous kingsguard had. Seymon Star-eyes. And Like I have.” He says, to the Maester. “I even have some ideas.” He is not even done mutilating your body or another idea to make you his has arrived.

Maester Orwyle frowns, clearly disgusted that the prince even suggests this. “It is up to the Princess. You know better than most, it should heal first, this wound. I'd worry about the war. And the King.” He remarks, eying the Queen in the corner.

Queen Helaena is rocking the corpse of her son, the head attached by the silent sisters. You and Jaehaerys were stitched together. While his head had most of the stitches done, the Queen was rocking him too wildly, hoping to revive him. She kept screaming his name, and his head rolled off. You think so, because you heard a thud and the Maester scream, among others.

Jaehaerys' suffering has ended.

Yours?

Yours is just beginning.

Aemond takes a step forward the maester, making himself taller than he is, looming over the poor kind man who only is your friend so far. “You do well to mind your tongue. And I am her husband. My will goes. The Princess is sworn to me by duty and marriage. The only one who will relieve her of that duty is the stranger.”

You're not even a princess anymore.

He and his brother mocked you.

They raped you.

You don't feel as a Princess.

A princess is a symbol of hope and virtue.

What virtue remains to you?

And did you ever have hope to begin with?

You cry out, lost in your own darkness.

“Give her some milk. That'll help dull the pain.” Aemond comments, softly. The Maester sighs, stopping with cleaning your bleeding eye, and does as he is instructed. “Can you see me, my love? I am here.” Love. His love. You want to spit in whatever direction you heard his sickening voice crawl out of. You want to take that dagger and slit his throat. You want to smear all the blood coming from your eyes down his throat so that he chokes.

And the irony is,

That is all you wanted since your capture.

That he loved you.

That he respected you.

He did not once value or respect you.

And now that he has taken your eye he suddenly becomes a better man?

You don't believe it.

Not because you don't want that.

But because you can't do that.

You know you won't survive the ordeal when the monster comes back out.

You feel something touch your bloodied, and yet clean cheek. The blood is gone in truth. But it somehow covers your entire body still. You wear it, as a scar. It's a part of you. Forever. The black coat is closer. You smell Aemond's smell and back away instinctively. His voice is close and you hear him shush you. You hear him mutter words, but they don't reach your mind.

Orwyle tries to usher Aemond away, noticing your distressed little moans and grunts, now that your worst nightmare is near. “The Princess has been given milk from the poppy. She is in quite the mental state. I doubt she even hears you, my Prince.” You do. You just don’t grant him any answers.

Aemond chuckles, as if that’s a very funny story. He knows you better than anyone. “Of course she does.” He looks at you, waiting with his hands folded in front of him. He waits a while, until the milk has worn off and your rage and sadness returns to your features. He smiles, approving of your tears and grunts of pain. “There you are.”

He leans in closer, caressing your bloodied cheek. “My precious girl.” he dares to say. “My Vaella. You know, this is enough. It'll settle the score.” He says, making small gestures with his gloved hands. You don't respond. A score that was never yours to settle. “Finally, I can move past the incident.” The Maester does not Reply but when you study his face carefully, you see him roll His eyes. You feel a sting of pain as you realize that you cannot do that. You can't even look with your other eye. You haven't tried it. Or maybe you have. Maybe this darkness is all that remains to you. You feel sick.

Aemond is never moving past anything.

Because this is not justice.

Only justice can balance the scales.

Only justice can bring peace.

For justice, it had to be Alyssa's eye that is now laying on a bowl. He doesn't wait for you to respond. “We will both move forward. This will be the first step to growth.” You want to hit him. Again. Moving forward? He took your eye, and he wants to move forward?

The Queen mutters something as she rocks her son’s body. “An eye for an eye.” she whispers.

You sink back in the chair, and let the maester finish his task. “Helaena, darling…” You can barely make out Alicent in a dark green gown. You mostly hear her voice. She sounds so much older than just moments ago. You want your own mother to hug you. You haven't seen her for so long. Weeks feel as months, who feel like years, who feel like decades. “Aegon and your grandsire have agreed that Jaehaerys is to be cremated. We are to ride behind his casket as he is brought to the Sept.” Behind. Not in front. Behind. What is the meaning of that? What are they plotting now?

You also have more concern. That head rolled off once. The last time the roads were properly bricked was likely due to the time of Jaehaerys, the King. You imagine many bumps in that road. Many opportunities for the head to roll off, and for the Queen to lose whatever remains to her mind.

The young Queen barely looks up from her son's body. “I don't want to.” Is her first response. You understand just how she feels. You endured dozens of things under the Greens that you did not want to. But this, this feels as a small price to pay. You know parents never would kill their own children, but if you had one, you would’ve slit its throat to free you from this hell. You would’ve slit thousand throats. “I am to stay here, with Jaehaera. She needs me more. I can still be a mother to her, at least.” You feel awful. You are mad at your parents for staging a assassination at an innocent child and not a rescue attempt for you. That was more important, apparently. Not you, no, some infant boy that cannot utter a word. That was the priority.

Her words hit as blows to Alicent. You know so. She has always been sensitive. You haven't gotten along well. Maybe you didn't understand her to begin with. But now you do.

“You are not thinking clearly-” She says, trying to make her daughter understand. ‘’The people are afraid. They need hope-’’ Hope. Since when are Targaryens bringers of hope? You know your family’s legacy. You don’t unite, you divide, you don’t earn, you conquer and if you cannot rain fire it will rain blood. It’s the unwritten rule of your dynasty. Alicent, being an outsider, perhaps would never truly, understand.

Helaena stands up. You hear her feet on stone, and notice how her voice sounds closer. You are not prepared for the gentle touch of her hands on your own. You are not prepared for it at all. It disarms you in a way. “Perhaps when you've lost your own children you'll understand, Mother. You can tie me to the casket or chop my own head off. You won't get me there otherwise.” You feel your face sting of needles and blood and now confusion. Losing her own children?

Alicent is silent, besides a deep, sigh. You understand she has given up this fight, so another fighter joins in. Aemond. “It's important you attend, Your grace.” Aemond says, speaking sweeter to her than he ever did to you. You hear Helaena's huff and tired sigh. “We must show the world what the pretender did.” He says, referring to the assassination.

You wait for Helaena’s response. She doesn’t seem very keen on sharing anything with the world. She wants peace and time to mourn her son. Time she is not granted by anyone.

“I don't want to.” the Queen repeats, distraught and a lot less secure. You know it won't protect her. It never mattered if you wanted something. The realm and especially their agenda must always come first. She can be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but at the end of the day, she is a prisoner just as everyone in this castle.

Aemond scoffs. “I did not want to marry Vaella but I did my duty. Aegon did not want to become King but he did his duty. What makes you think you are better than any of us? All we do, Helaena, is try to avoid those pretenders from cutting our throats. You've seen yourself with your boy what they are capable of.” He gestures to the body of Jaehaerys. “Tell me, Helaena, how many more mothers must lose their children before you decide to go do something about it?”

You hear a sob. Hers. You don't doubt it. What an awful cruel thing to say. “But I don't want them to stare at me. I don't want them near me. I don't want to do any of it!”

Her voice becomes higher and you notice the pain returning. You become annoyed as your eye begins to sting and burn as fire again. “Aemond is right. You are the Queen, Helaena. You need to be strong for your people.” Alicent says, as if that somehow makes it any less terrifying.

Helaena wails, ignoring her duties. “But I am not strong. Can't You see that? I am weak. I never wanted the crown or power. I wanted a normal life. Away from all this!”

“The lives we want are often the ones we dont have. For good reasons, oftenly.” Alicent says. ‘’You will do your duty, Helaena. I sacrificed so much to put you and Aegon on the throne. You will do as you are told. You will attend with me.’’ And that seems to be the end of it. You don’t understand why Helaena doesn’t just throw Alicent in a dungeon, but for all her flaws, she remains her mother.

“Vaella must join us.” Helaena suddenly declares. “She is kind, I want her there.” You? You glance at the dowager with your one eye, and notice you must look not very pleasant. The Dowager has shaking hands as she looks at you, reminded of the time her son lost his eye as well. Blood, stitches, and a slight dazed look in your eyes because of all the poppy milk.

The Maester tilts your chin, carefully stitching the socket close. “Vaella has been…damaged, your Grace. We must patch her up, and even if we did so, she is the daughter of the murderer of your son, your Grace. Her presence would be ill and endanger everyone involved.” You know of the note Daemon sent. It is true.

Helaena shrugs, showing just how young and inexperienced she is to sit a throne and to rule. She has the name and the blood, but not the heart or the stomach. “Vaella will take this opportunity to show the world she has become loyal to my brother, and she will become a “Green” I believe that is how you and the others phrase it.” the Maester does not respond. His head only hangs in shame. His silence speaks only in one tone. Regret.

“She can't attend. She's simply too injured.” Aemond chuckles nervously, and you find that very strange. ‘’I don’t want her out.’’ He adds, quickly. Helaena shrugs again.

“I'll wait. I'll ride with Vaella, or not at all.” And she stands up, walks out of the room, and does not pay any more mind to you, her dead son, or her brother or mother.

Aemond rushes after her, leaving you alone. Alicent leaves without saying a word as well. Only you and the Maester remains. It takes hours to get the socket stitched. A socket is more than just a hole, it has bone, skin, and very delicate skin and bone at that. Only a true expert can possibly stitch it in a way it won’t infect you somehow. You are glad the Maester is there.

It takes several hours.

One day, to be precise.

But then you are done.

You avoid looking into anything that catches your reflections, knowing it’ll break you beyond repair. You smile sweetly, knowing that kindness is all that remains to you. ‘’Thank you, Maester Orwyle.’’ He does not respond. At first you think he does not think you are worthy of an answer, so you take your leave. But then, you hear the soft, gentle sniffles.

It's a strange thing when you see him, as you turn around.

He folds his hands, bends his head towards the glass. You hear him whisper. “Gods, save us all.” The next thing you hear is his sobbing and watch as he collapses, crying and breaking down. The man who never believed in Gods is now praying to them. You don’t know how to respond to the crying man, so you turn your back on him and do what your parents did whenever things got tough. You just…run.

—

The small council has few faces that do not stare at your freshly scarred and stitched face. Orwyle has joined, but does everything to avoid your gaze. He does not want anyone to know that he cried. You don’t plan on sharing it.

King Aegon seems very happy to see you with one less eye, smirking and chuckling when he saw you enter. You sit on an extra chair next to Aemond, barely clear minded from all the milk you had yesterday. It is a miracle you even remember your own name.

Aemond decides to cut the silence. “Vaella wants to be part of the ceremony.” He says. ‘’She is to sit in the carriage, same as Mother and Helaena. She is to be seated on the left side, with Helaena on the right, and Alicent in the middle.’’ You want to know why that specific order. But you cannot be bothered.

The King nods, likely already aware of this specific request that his wife did.

“The wolf has come to lure on the chickens?” He asks you. You don’t bother to respond.

He chuckles.

“No witty responses? No funny remarks? Has my brother finally broken your spirits?”

Otto cuts in. “You should move forward with the planning, your Grace.Time is of the essence.’ He is right. ‘’There is one thing we have to discuss. The Princess’s eye. People will want to know who took it.’’ You glance at Aemond, notice how he doesn’t shy away from all the judgmental stares. ‘’We can tell the truth, but it would be …unpleasant. I suggest we use this …hickup to our advantage.’’ You glare at the Hand.

“I am listening.” Aegon’s smooth, soft voice answers, clearly pleased by how mad you already seem to be.

Otto continues. “The small folk don't understand how Aemond's tendencies are. They won't understand it if we tell them Vaella was disciplined.” Aemond laughs and interrupts him, as he catches on.

“You want to tell them that those idiots attacked Vaella instead.’’ What?

“Indeed.”

That your own parents send a assassin after you?

‘’You think they are morons?’’ You ask, genuinely.

‘’Vaella-’’ Aemond mutters, but you don’t pay him any mind.

Otto sighs as if you are stupid, and laughs at the other members as if he finds it adorable that you have a opinion.

You don’t laugh. ‘’No. You think the smallfolk will believe that my parents hired assassins to take my eye? You think they will believe that?’’ You ask, sincerely. ‘’Because if you, I misjudged you, Ser Otto. I thought you were a clever man. Not an idiot.’’

‘’You weren’t the target, of course. They mistook you for Queen Helaena.’’

Morons. As if anyone will believe that.

‘’And why didn’t I tell the assassins I was myself?’’ You ask, in all seriousness, but with a voice drained of life.

An awkward silence follows. ‘’Maybe the assassins had already attacked you on sight…?’’ Jesper suggests, and you just roll your good eye.

‘’Enough,’’ Aegon says. ‘’It doesn't matter what some whore thinks anyway. They will believe me because they happen to like me. I do more than your mother, who only threw a blockade and sends assassins to the castle. The people want, adore, and love me. They never have been happier.’’

For now, maybe.

But nothing is as fleeting as the mind of the masses.

‘’War will come to their doorstep. When you run out of your fancy friends to do your fighting for you, and Lord Tyland’s gold runs out, they’ll be a lot less happy.’’ You remark.

Aemond squeezes your hand painfully underneath the table, warning you.

‘’Enough, my love. You are a guest, not a voice or a counciler. Let us do the talking.’’

The silence that follows is haunting as a calm before the storm.

And after that, you are prepared to wear a green dress, and forced as a chicken in the carriage, with the two former queens.

The Hightowers spared no expense. The banners, the carriage, and the announcer, it all looks terrifying, grant, and angry. The carriage leaves the Red Keep, and you stare at the view on your right, rather than looking at any of the two Queens. You had not been out of the Red Keep for so long, that you enjoy the fresh air. But whenever you look down, you see the little body of a child killed before his time, and guilt washes over you in waves.

The carriage ride is silent.

Along the way, people have gathered. The small folk. Helaena tenses up at the first peasant that shouts something your way. ‘’Gods be with you, Queen Helaena!’’ You look at the crowd as well. But when you smile, you see anger, and when you turn your head away, a fish barely misses your head. The guards don’t mind this incident, but do push forward as the carriage rides out further. The Red Keep is now too far away to return.

‘’Queen Helaena!’’

‘’Gods be with you, my Queen!’’

‘’The Mother mourns with you, Queen Helaena!’’

And more like minded phrases are thrown at the flincing, shaking Queen. Alicent tries to calm her down, but somehow only makes it worse. You don’t know how to help either.

The thing you were most afraid of happens. By a lose rock, the wheel stops, and the head of the boy comes rolling off. Helaena screams as a guard rushes after the head, and the crowd mistakes Helaena’s scream for danger. The crowd breaks through the barriers created by the guards, rushing at the carriage as hungry creatures seeing food. Helaena cries as you try to get away, afraid.

As kind as they are Helaena, they shout different things to you. They blame you.

‘’They should’ve slit your throat!’’

‘’Bastard! Whore!’’

‘’Kinslayer spawn! You will burn in hell!’’

Alicent understands the danger you are in, as you come to terms you might lose more than just your eye. She quickly switches seats with you, and screams at the guards. Two of the guards have finally got the head back of the toddler, as a peasant had taken off with it. The peasant lies dead in the street, bleeding out. You watch the corpse. Alicent takes the head from the two guards. Two others meanwhile try their best to get the wheel to work. The crowd is now truly enraged that someone of their own died.

‘’Murderer!’’

‘’Kinslayer!’’

‘’Traitor!’’

They reach the carriage, and try to tear at your arms, your dress, and your hair. The same guard that rushed after the head now uses his sword, cutting off any hands that come too close. You hear screams as blood gushes. ‘’No! Don’t! We need to talk with them.’’ You say, trying to keep the peace.

The wheel is finally fixed and the carriage is forced to retreat at once, with speed. You have time to turn around and see a straw made body hanging from a window. She wears a black gown, with a familiar gold-like brown crown. Your mother.

—------------

When you return, you are shaking.

Alicent and Helaena are helped out of the carriage by the guards, who rush to report the news of the King right away. Alicent places the head back by Jaehaerys’s body. She makes a prayer for him. You remain in the carriage, catching your breath. You never saw hatred that strong. They hated you. They hanged your mother, in a way. Not her, but some straw-like doll that was clearly intended and hung to make clear what will happen if she retakes King’s Landing.

When everyone is inside, you are still in the carriage, starring at the headless boy. How could they be so reckless, to kill a child when you are there as their hostage? ‘’I heard what happened. Quite the bloody spectacle.’’ You know that voice all too well by now.

He offers you his hand, smiling.

You take it.

Aemond helps you out of the carriage. ‘’It’s why I suggested you should’ve stayed here.’’

You sigh. As if you had a choice to begin with.

‘’Queen Helaena demanded my presence.’’

He chuckles, amused.

‘’And you care suddenly what my siblings demand?’’

To that, you shrug. ‘’It seems I either can adjust or lose more precious organs and limbs.’’

He does not chuckle anymore, in fact he has become silent. ‘’I want to talk with you. The blockade is ruining possible food. King’s Landing will go hungry soon.’’ You laugh, interrupting him. ‘’Don’t you care about the people?’’

At this moment, you can’t care about anyone but yourself.

‘’They hung my mother. They wanted me killed.’’

‘’Just one crowd.’’ He says. ‘’I thought you were stronger than that. You don’t want them to starve to death, do you?’’

Even if you somehow didn’t, where are you supposed to get food from anyway?

‘’I don’t see where you can get enough food from.’’

Aemond smirks, clearly pleased he worked something out you didn’t. ‘’Some farmers in the North have sent us secret provisions. They are so sorry for what happened to the little princling. Some of Rhaenyra’s banners question her ability to lead, now that Daemon has been exiled to the Riverlands as a dog she no longer wants.’’ Daemon? Exiled?

Your husband enjoys feeding you little crumbs of hope of what goes on at home, but he enjoys it even more when he can fill your head with chaos. ‘’Why are you even telling me this?’’ You ask.

Aemond shrugs, but you can tell there is more to it. ‘’Alyssa is finally betrothed as well. You should be happy. You’ll be an aunt in no time.’’ You wonder who she is marrying. ‘’She is engaged to one of the Blackwoods. Quite the lovely lad.’’

‘’Why should I care?’’ you mutter, ready to end this conversation.

‘’Because, one day, one day soon, you and I will have our own child. It’s important we keep track of possible matches for our future heir.’’ He says. You look at his face. When you are done, you feel horrified. There is no mocking, no joking, no teasing, no sarcasm or indifference. Only that one, terrifying eye that stares at you, filled with hope. And hope alone. ‘’We can, if you want, maybe even keep Alyssa and her child alive. That way, her daughter and our son can marry, reuniting the Targaryen bloodline.’’

If somehow, that even happened.

‘’That’s a lot of ifs. I don’t care who you marry or promise my children too. I hope it’s far away from here, that is all.’’ You remark, tired. He stops you as you try to run away again.

‘’I uh, I had hoped we could go do a activity together, maybe later?’’ You are shocked.

He smiles, a bit terrifying. He awaits your answer eagerly. ‘’I know you are still healing, but Vhagar is lonely, and I was meaning to ride anyway.’’ What is he plotting?

‘’What are you up to? You want to do something together? Just spit it out. What do you want?’’

He sighs, and nods as if he admits that lying is useless anyway. ‘’Mother is pushing me, Aegon is pushing me, hells, even the Maester is pushing me. I need a heir. And not me alone.’’ He glances at your belly. ‘’They found the herbs your father sent you.’’ You freeze. ‘’Yes, I know about that letter. I don’t give a damn, truth be told. He can sent you millions of letters and you’d still be mine when you wake up and go to sleep.’’ He pauses. ‘’If you took them, you could never have gotten pregnant. You would be useless. They either want us to put forward a heir as soon as possible, or I need to remarry.’’

‘’Wonderful news. I’d remarry if I were you.’’ You remark. ‘’You didn’t want me to begin with.’’

‘’I do want you now, and who would want you if I don’t want you anymore?’’ He tries to use your fears again. But this time you don’t cry. You just laugh, shaking your head at the little girl you used to be.

‘’I want me, Aemond. And trust me, that is enough for me now. If you want an heir, you and I will need to …share your bed. But we need to do more than that.’’ He steps closer, intrigued by your proposition.

‘’Tell me what you want.’’

You allow yourself to fantasize out loud. ‘’I want power. I want stability, and I want respect. I’ve been looking after others too long. You, Alyssa…It’s time I get what I need. It’s time I get what I want.’’ It's time to grow up. To be your best self. The only self you can be, truth be told.

‘’And what do you want, for one?’’ He asks. Your lips curl into a soft smirk, as you stare at the skies above your head. ‘’I want a dragon.’’ You say, speaking a long lost wish out loud.

Aemond pauses. Then he laughs. ‘’You think I'm an idiot? You’re not getting any dragon. You’d leave and burn everything and everyone here first!’’

You smirk. ‘’Have you seen your sister, Aemond?’’

He remains silent. ‘’You knew it when you tried to steal her dragon. That, is no dragon rider. That is a kind soul. You don’t need kind souls. You need dragon riders. You and your dragon are quite the fierce team, but you are untested in battle and combat alike. ‘’Alyssa, Jacaerys, Joffrey, and even my baby brothers have dragons. You can’t win it from them, Aemond.’’

‘’Why do you want a dragon, so you can join me?’’ He doesn’t believe it. He’s not an idiot.

‘’A tiny dragon?’’ You suggest not answering his question.

His smile dies. ‘’We are done talking about this subject. You won’t be getting a dragon.’’

You shrug, not that bothered by it. ‘’For now. You will be back. Because I’ve been told I think like my mother. If I had the idea to gather more riders, that means she did as well. You need me to claim a dragon. And if you want me to remain dragonless, that is your choice.’’

‘’You would rise up against your family? Commit treason to them?’’

‘’...My family had weeks to save me. Instead of that, they sent an assassin and endangered me. I didn’t commit treason against them, Aemond. They committed treason against me. You and the Greens are terrible creatures, but I am learning the slow truth that my family is cut from the same rotting cloth. You are both monsters. I want the smallfolk ruled by a ruler who is kind, but has the stomach to do what is right.’’

‘’You?’’

‘’I know someone who can be a good ruler, if he was given the choice.’’ You don’t see him be a good ruler, ever, truth be told. But you can manipulate him. You would be Queen. Aemond doesn’t answer you. He ignores you, but the way he walks, almost into a wall, tells you you’ve given him enough to think about.

Even if he’s not getting you the dragon, which is a stupid idea anyway, he certainly is considering the offer, the praise and the compliment that you think he’d make a great ruler. He is considering it, at least. That is something. That was the true goal. Because the Greens’s close bond is now already showing cuts. And its only a matter of time before the entire thing collapses.

after a year hiatus here it is xD

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond targaryen x oc #darkfantasy #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond #Fanfiction #Aemond x reader #Aemond dark aemond x oc

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 2 months ago

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The spare has received a update after almost a year.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 3 months ago

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Picturing/naming some HOTD/game of thrones characters

Aeriana Targaryen.

Calrin Casterly* (name i made up) from the scrapped Bloodmoon pilot.

Daeron the drunken in Outlander.

Finn Bennet (Aerion Targaryen in hedge Knight, in domina!)

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #Game of thrones #Blood moon scrapped #Reign #Domina #darkfantasy

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 3 months ago

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Chains of Bones: DARK!GODAEMOND X READER chapter 5: Shards of destiny

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:3730 (she's a bit tiny, but that's because we are finally getting somewhere!!!!!)

You are busy trying on different hats and scarfs to hide your horns. Most hats aren't made for that, however and won't fit without you impaling the luxurious fabric it's made of. Whoever made them put in so much love and detail, that you couldn't possibly destroy it like that. It would also be useless. Because you only end up looking more ridiculous with the hat on your horns then without.

The scarfs do cover the horns but only call more attention to them. It seems that no matter what, you'll be seen with the horns whether you want it or not.

The dress you wear is a smaller elegant gown, with a smaller skirt so that it doesn't cover half the space you walk around in. The bodice has sapphires attached to the neckline, and judging by the heaviness they are all but too real. The fabric feels as a soft but expensive pillow that can lure you to sleep any moment. It was the best and less extravagant gown you and Ann could find in the big closet Aemond arranged for you.

It still is very dramatic, calling out as a lighthouse to sailors lost on the dark sea. But it is less of an attraction than that other gown you saw earlier. You have considered escaping via the balcony with the gown, using it as some parachute. But Aemond warned you unintentionally that even grass can kill you.

If you somehow were killed you don't know what will happen to your mortal soul since you are captive in a unique situation. But you don't intend to find out.

The worst part of your new life is not even not knowing what is happening, which is bad enough. But it's the pure boredom that comes with being a Queen. You have a handmaid now, who does everything for you.

Someone else sows your dresses, someone else polishes your jewelry, someone else prepares your food and someone else arranges how the tray is filled. You are unsure how to keep sane if you aren't allowed to do anything or go anywhere.

The door is pushed open, revealing your handmaiden with two large trays in a golden colour decorated with sapphire gems on either side of the tray. The tray alone could cost a small fortune. Ann balances the trays and you stand up, ready to run to her in case she drops the trays. But she has done this longer than you have and acts with such grace and decorum that it makes you a bit jealous of her, the Handmaiden.

You push those dark thoughts away as Ann puts the trays on what you assume is a writing desk. “Your breakfast, your Highness. His grace, the King wants you to fill in a form so us servants know what treats and sweets you like and what you absolutely despise. The King will have us killed if we serve anything you can't stand.” She says with a disturbing cheerful tone and a big smile.

You know she is frightened. Who wouldn't be in her position. You don't doubt that Aemond is bluffing for a moment. He would kill someone for something like that. And he definitely killed for less. You just don't think it would be worth the effort. Isn't this the Underworld? Aren't the servants already dead? Can you even kill dead people? He stated so before: No one but you has come here without the intentions of the design.

You understand Ann is dead too. You stare at her, suddenly realising that she is part of the system. She did not came here out of nowhere. She was put here by the design. She has reasons to be in the Underworld.

“I-” You mutter, making a bit of distance Between the two of you. Ann seems confused, tilting her head as her big brown eyes stare at you.

She smiles, rambling on, excited beyond words. You wonder if Aemond even allows her to see other beings, the way she speaks tells you how incredibly lonely she must bel. “And of course, you do have your own taster but you won't be introduced to them. They will be kept a secret for your safety and their own. Only his Grace knows who they are.” She tells you with a wink.

You had prepared to eat a perfectly ripe apple, but you drop it out of pure shock on the desk.

A taster? You stare at the food, suddenly alarmed of the danger you are truly in.

“What-” You nearly shout distraught.

Ann makes movements with her arms that are supposed to calm you down. “And finally, my Queen, his Grace would like to know if you have any allergies or sensitivities or dislikes for certain fabrics, flowers, plants, fruits, animals, creatures in general or-” She needs a moment to calm herself down after rambling so much. You invite her to sit by patting your bed.

“Easy, Ann. Do not tire yourself. Come sit.” Her eyes widen as if you just suggested that you will kill Aemond. She is shocked, backing away from you in fear, quickly looking around the room, if somehow Aemond didn't hear you. She shakes her head furiously.

“It's for you, my Queen. I-I couldn't possibly.’ She stutters. “The fabric is the softest in the world. The King had it sent and brought down during a special journey to the world above. He stitched the initials in the blankets himself.” You feel the blanket and it's indeed quite soft. It's an extra one that wasn't there when you woke up. Aemond put it here later via magic without you even noticing him or the blanket.

“He stitched it himself?” You find that a bit odd. You chuckle. Ann glares, furiously.

You have to see It. Aemond doing manual labour seems so funny to you. So out of character. You glance at the blanket, looking for where he stitched.

You expect to see a proper delicate and neat example of perfect embroidery. It's made with gold tread so that it fits the red blanket properly. But you see a golden, messy and complicated stitch that was clearly done by an amateur. You notice a black spot near the T. Blood. His blood.

The work might be amateurish. It is sloppy and imperfect. But it silences you and all your thoughts somehow. Your thumb softly touches the signature. “He spent days on it, my Queen.” Ann whispers as you stare at the blanket, feeling conflicted emotions. You feel so guilty. He deserves your ire. He deserves your vengeance in fact.

You want to believe his lies.

You want to believe that someone can genuinely love you without agenda and limits. But you can't.

This is maybe the kindest and somehow less selfish thing anyone has ever done for you.

“Why? He doesn't even know me.” you tear up, your chest heavy. “I am not worthy of it. Of any of this.” You say, quickly standing up.

Ann disagrees. “Everyone is worthy of love, my Queen. The King put in so much effort and love.” He really did.

He kidnapped you. And that is wrong of him. But you can see, he put in a insane amount of effort in your room. And not just things that are priceless. He talks with you the way no one would ever talk. He thinks you a human being, not a dirty rat. He seems charmed by your wit and you love seeing his stoic face become enchanted and slowly form a smile.

“He tried his best.” You conclude, cursing as your nose sniffles. You keep circling the A. Ann nods, smiling that you finally appreciate something around here.

She tells as she picks up your apple. “It was his first attempt. Me and a few other girls came forward and suggested we would be happy to make the blanket for you, my Queen. We said we wouldn't mind. ”

You can imagine how that went, almost picturing Aemond standing in front of the group of girls, shouting and hissing as he grumpily went off to his own room.

“Aemond didn't like that.”

Ann nods. “How did you guess?”

His character you want to say. But it's not that. Its more than that. “He sees it as that he is failing whenever someone offers him help.” You mutter.

The way regret and sorrow fill Ann's eyes make you think she somewhere truly wants the best for the king. “I never saw it that way. What makes you think that?”

Because it's what you think when someone offers their help to you. You would feel as if whatever you did also was not good enough. Same as him. You know it too well. “Because I'm the same way.” You admit.

It's the most horrible feeling. Especially if you already feel like you are on your own and don't matter to anyone.

Ann watches you cuddle and pet your blanket unaware it is causing your mood to become calm and collected. It has a smoothing warmth and a comforting smell. Its quite the comfort. “My Queen, do you want me to put one of the trays on the bed? You should eat.” She says, kindly. “In your condition-”

Oh Gods. Not this again.

“I'm not pregnant.” You say, clearing the air right away. Her smile dies. She stares at your belly.

She nods. She talks to herself in her head almost, reminding herself she has a duty to you and the King. “You shouldn't be too worried, my Queen. You and the King only made love once. It doesn't have to mean anything.” You are confused at first. Until you understand she thinks you are upset that you are not yet carrying a pocketsize Aemond in your belly.

You grab her hands. “Ann, I'm not upset.” She smiles, relieved. “Me and Aemond made a deal, in fact.” Her smile dies, alarmed.

“The King says he loves you, my Queen. I want to believe his words. I want to believe better days are coming for us all. But I cannot gather my hope in case it'll be destroyed.” You understand that. Hope can be a powerful light. or an ever looming darkness.

You decide to address her feelings as they overlap with the fact that you are worried that its all pretend. “Do you think Aemond is lying?’

She shrugs. “I think there is a thin line between love and obsession and that Gods cross it more often than us Mortals. Protect your heart, my Lady. That is all I say.” He said before when He first took you that you could make his heart beat again and that you were prophesied to become his Queen.

When You held the bone crown…

You watch her prepare the tea and put bread on a plate for you. You stand up. “I, I can make my own breakfast.” You say. “Can I speak with Aemond? I want to see if we can arrange maybe something for me to do.” Ann nods, putting the plates aside at once.

She smiles, beaming. “An activity is a great choice. Perhaps you could do something fun with the King. He likes hunting and reading. Maybe that's something you can both enjoy. I'll notify him right away!” She rushes off before you can stop her, before you can tell her you do not enjoy reading nor killing.

You sit in silence. Your gut tells you that Ann is hiding something as well. So is Aemond. There is something that is not adding up to her. One part of her seems so afraid and scared, while another part seems so eager to have him fall in love. You think.

Maybe those two parts aren't two parts at all. She wants you to soften him. You sigh, falling back on the bed. You already had so many worries.

You close your eyes for a brief moment, until you hear a small voice in your head remind you that Aemond is being fetched now by Ann. And how dangerous that idea truly can be.

You stand up, almost tripping over your own feet as you rush after her. Your room leads to a big confusing hallway, likely enchanted. You see many doors. You close your eyes, and just try the first door.

You are back in the throne room. The throne made of bones has somehow become bigger since you last saw it. Aemond is indeed present, his silver blood streaked hair catching the light of the many chandeliers. Ann is near him, being choked.

You growl, approaching with fast feet and don't even trip once over your dress. “Aemond! Stop that at once!” But he does not stop. He seems to be in another world entirely. He is furious, seething, blinded by bloodlust.

You see no other way. You look around for a weapon or something to hurt him. Two big vases in a black colour stand near the bone throne. You grab one, marching it over to Aemond. Ann protests as you raise the vase, but you ignore her.

The vase cuts through his skin, shaking him awake. You are shocked to see dark, black blood coming from the wound you created. You feel your horns, as they begin to sting.

Aemond, now startled, drops Ann painfully on the ground.

You rush to her first, inspecting her throat worried he hurt her. “Ann, I'm so sorry.” You say.

Ann cries tears of relief. “It is fine, your highness. Please do not let my cries interrupt your beautiful morning.” You gawk at her response, at a loss for words. She is crying and shaking and yet all she cares about is how she ruined your morning. As if this is all somehow her fault. it's yours. You should've told Aemond she did a good job.

He hisses in pain. You are shocked that you hurt him but furious all the same. You help your handmaiden stand up. “Are you alright?” you ask. “I am sorry, Ann. Please, go back to my room and help yourself to some sweets and food. You can have whatever you like.”

She hesitates, staring at the King.

“I-”

You give her a gentle push, towards the door. She needs to go and now. She will only be injured if she stays here.

“Go!” You shout.

Aemond sighs, as the wounds close before your very eyes. The shards rearrange themselves back into the vase it once was. You feel ashamed and guilty. “Care to explain to me why you hitted me on my head?” He remarks, adjusting the crown he wears a tiny bit.

He makes it sound as if it's your fault you defended your handmaid. The only kind soul here. “You hurt Ann. She only asked what I wanted to ask. I'm bored, Aemond. I want to do things and go to places.”

He sighs, reaching out to touch your hands. Your fingers feel the cold bones below his flesh somehow and you notice the fingers warm up as you allow him to hold you.

“The world is too dangerous now for you. Once all the pieces have been put together, you and I will see as much as you like and do as much as you want.” He promises. Then, his eye narrows and you notice the darkness setting back in. “Why do you care so much for the help?” He adds, suspicious.

You aren't sure. She reminds you of yourself. Maybe that's it. Maybe there's something more. “She was kind and sweet. Gentle when brushing and bathing me. She told me some things.” You are reminded of something.

Destiny isn't always what we think it is.

Aemond growls, annoyed by your vague answers and silence. He drops your hands. “What sort of things? Did that brat gossip about me?” A bit but you won't admit it.

You shake your head. "No. It was about her mother. And how destiny sometimes isn't what you think it is. It…I…I felt something I didn't feel ever before. She comforted me. She told me about the blanket you arranged…” You reach out to his long fingers, yearning for his touch. You smile sweetly but he seems horrified by your words and actions alike.

He's ashamed, cornered and afraid. And that is when the monster comes out. “I will have her head.” He groans storming off in the direction Ann fled. You run after him, picking up your skirts to keep up with his long legs.

“It's your Godhood isn't it?” You ask, pausing him by grabbing his long cloak. Aemond pauses, annoyed.

You take a deep breath. “Why you are so angry? You want to make me feel at home. I understand you spent a time looking for me and even called in a favor to have me with Daemon. You are not known for asking for help.” You say.

Aemond has one response. He leans in closer, huffs, and continues to chase down Ann. You yelp, running after him again, in an attempt to calm him down.

You block his path this time, staring into his eye and his sapphire socket. You both don't speak. You reach out to touch his cold face, and allow yourself to feel his cheek. He accepts this. You do it again with his other cheek, and notice how his rage seems to disappear. You need answers. And he is the only one who has them. You plot something small. “Might I know the man that's to be my husband? Would you perhaps like to tell me a bit more about yourself, for one? Not about the King. But about Aemond.” You ask.

He snarls, revealing his sharp teeth. He stares at the door of your room, aware he should chase Ann…

But he remains by your side instead. He crosses his arms, as a little boy and huffs, pretending to not care about your proposal at all. “Why would you even want to know? So you can kill me?” He makes his voice much bolder, but you can hear the pitch it makes when he speaks of you hurting him.

You shake your head. You can't expect Aemond to be honest without being honest yourself. You sigh. ‘Because people have been lying and betraying me my entire life. I could usually tell. If they want to hurt me. But with you, I can't. I can't tell what you want.” You say, and it comes right from your heart.

Aemond's first reaction is a gentle, soft, hidden smile. Then it quickly becomes a smirk, as he grins, grabbing your arms.

“I must be one hell of an actor.’ He says, trying to play into the scheme that he might be here to kill you after all.

But you see through it this time.

“Or you truly try to protect and save me.” He doesn't speak after that. He keeps staring at you, making you a bit uncomfortable with his gaze.

You know you must make the effort. He gave it his all already. “You said before you gave me one chance. I am sorry for running. It's what I've been doing whenever life got scary. But I'd like us to maybe have dinner. And if you feel like it you can share some personal details.” You never been on any date before.

Aemond turns his head away, but you see in the reflection of a pillar that his lips are curled into a smile. A joyful smile. He tries to be calm and collected but his voice makes an uncontrolled little jump. “Like what?”

You decide to not push it, and if he feels uncomfortable sharing his smile you won't force him. You shrug. “Well, your favourite meal and colour. Do you prefer sunset or Sunrise? Flowers and smells stuff like that.” You say, stepping closer, but giving him time to hide again. He doesn't hide this time, his lips slightly open as he stares at you. it's like he can't believe you are real.

You reach for his fingers. He accepts. You touch his fingers, feeling the strange dark and white nails with veins. “Things couples talk about.” You clarify.

“I-” He blushes, leaning against a pillar with a vase that falls to the ground. The vase breaks into dozens of little and big shards. He protects you by catching the shards, cutting him easily as he gawks, staring at his bloodied hands. Injured. Again.

His hands are soaked with it. Dark black crimson blood. You saw it before on the blanket. “You are hurt.” You are shocked at the amount of blood. It's way too much. “When I threw the vase, I didn't expect...I Thought it wouldn't cut you. I assumed it would only scare you off.” You say, stuttering.

Aemond takes a deep breath, and when he opens his palms again, the cuts and wounds are gone. As is the blood. In its stead is a beautiful rose. “I am fine, my Love.” He offers you the rose with a smile. “I…I had to take my medication today. See it as that. I am fine, truly. Here, will you accept this rose?” You are surprised he even asks.

You ignore the rose, reaching for his hands instead to feel that he is alright yourself. The rose falls to the ground, as petals fall. You smile. “I am glad.” You don't know where that came from. But it is somehow the truth.

Aemond opens his mouth, staring into your eyes as he gently takes hold of your chin. You close your eyes, preparing for the kiss.

But when you open your eyes, Aemond is gone and you are back in your room again. Disappointment doesn't even cover half of your pain. You set your heart open for him and he closed the door on you. He doesn't love you. He only pretends so. He needs you for something. He lied.

He is just playing you. It's a lie. The prophecy. All of it.

A rose arrives by a crow, who drops it in your lap. You stare at the small note that is attached to the note. You open it. “Something came up. But I'm free tonight. I am ready to share some answers, yours, truly, eternally, and faithfully, -Aemond.”

You watch as the crow flies away.

Answers.

At last.

----

(i had to cut the word count on this but the ones that come after i hope, i genuinely hope, the way its looking its going to be so juicy!

Next chapter, Aemond works out his little plan, Alicent has a lot of regrets and guilt, and Petal and Aemond share a delightful little cute dinner as he tells her the truth, finally. I can't wait for you all to see the truth because I had some comments who were CLOSE VERY CLOSE to the truth, but the truth-truth isnt guessed by anyone just yet...so i hope its a bombshell im dropping on yall xD.

Anyway thanks for reading. I cant believe the fic is so well recievied!

Aemond watching you/Petal sleep.

LMAO okay sorry do with that what you want.

Ok bye x

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 3 months ago

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Chains of Bones: DARK!GODAEMOND X READER chapter 5: Shards of destiny

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:3730 (she's a bit tiny, but that's because we are finally getting somewhere!!!!!)

The scarfs do cover the horns but only call more attention to them. It seems that no matter what, you'll be seen with the horns whether you want it or not.

If you somehow were killed you don't know what will happen to your mortal soul since you are captive in a unique situation. But you don't intend to find out.

“I-” You mutter, making a bit of distance Between the two of you. Ann seems confused, tilting her head as her big brown eyes stare at you.

You had prepared to eat a perfectly ripe apple, but you drop it out of pure shock on the desk.

A taster? You stare at the food, suddenly alarmed of the danger you are truly in.

“What-” You nearly shout distraught.

“He stitched it himself?” You find that a bit odd. You chuckle. Ann glares, furiously.

You have to see It. Aemond doing manual labour seems so funny to you. So out of character. You glance at the blanket, looking for where he stitched.

You want to believe his lies.

You want to believe that someone can genuinely love you without agenda and limits. But you can't.

This is maybe the kindest and somehow less selfish thing anyone has ever done for you.

“Why? He doesn't even know me.” you tear up, your chest heavy. “I am not worthy of it. Of any of this.” You say, quickly standing up.

Ann disagrees. “Everyone is worthy of love, my Queen. The King put in so much effort and love.” He really did.

“He tried his best.” You conclude, cursing as your nose sniffles. You keep circling the A. Ann nods, smiling that you finally appreciate something around here.

You can imagine how that went, almost picturing Aemond standing in front of the group of girls, shouting and hissing as he grumpily went off to his own room.

“Aemond didn't like that.”

Ann nods. “How did you guess?”

His character you want to say. But it's not that. Its more than that. “He sees it as that he is failing whenever someone offers him help.” You mutter.

The way regret and sorrow fill Ann's eyes make you think she somewhere truly wants the best for the king. “I never saw it that way. What makes you think that?”

It's the most horrible feeling. Especially if you already feel like you are on your own and don't matter to anyone.

Oh Gods. Not this again.

“I'm not pregnant.” You say, clearing the air right away. Her smile dies. She stares at your belly.

You grab her hands. “Ann, I'm not upset.” She smiles, relieved. “Me and Aemond made a deal, in fact.” Her smile dies, alarmed.

You decide to address her feelings as they overlap with the fact that you are worried that its all pretend. “Do you think Aemond is lying?’

When You held the bone crown…

Maybe those two parts aren't two parts at all. She wants you to soften him. You sigh, falling back on the bed. You already had so many worries.

You close your eyes for a brief moment, until you hear a small voice in your head remind you that Aemond is being fetched now by Ann. And how dangerous that idea truly can be.

The vase cuts through his skin, shaking him awake. You are shocked to see dark, black blood coming from the wound you created. You feel your horns, as they begin to sting.

Aemond, now startled, drops Ann painfully on the ground.

You rush to her first, inspecting her throat worried he hurt her. “Ann, I'm so sorry.” You say.

She hesitates, staring at the King.

“I-”

You give her a gentle push, towards the door. She needs to go and now. She will only be injured if she stays here.

“Go!” You shout.

He sighs, reaching out to touch your hands. Your fingers feel the cold bones below his flesh somehow and you notice the fingers warm up as you allow him to hold you.

Destiny isn't always what we think it is.

Aemond growls, annoyed by your vague answers and silence. He drops your hands. “What sort of things? Did that brat gossip about me?” A bit but you won't admit it.

“It's your Godhood isn't it?” You ask, pausing him by grabbing his long cloak. Aemond pauses, annoyed.

Aemond has one response. He leans in closer, huffs, and continues to chase down Ann. You yelp, running after him again, in an attempt to calm him down.

He snarls, revealing his sharp teeth. He stares at the door of your room, aware he should chase Ann…

Aemond's first reaction is a gentle, soft, hidden smile. Then it quickly becomes a smirk, as he grins, grabbing your arms.

“I must be one hell of an actor.’ He says, trying to play into the scheme that he might be here to kill you after all.

But you see through it this time.

“Or you truly try to protect and save me.” He doesn't speak after that. He keeps staring at you, making you a bit uncomfortable with his gaze.

You reach for his fingers. He accepts. You touch his fingers, feeling the strange dark and white nails with veins. “Things couples talk about.” You clarify.

Aemond opens his mouth, staring into your eyes as he gently takes hold of your chin. You close your eyes, preparing for the kiss.

He is just playing you. It's a lie. The prophecy. All of it.

You watch as the crow flies away.

Answers.

At last.

----

(i had to cut the word count on this but the ones that come after i hope, i genuinely hope, the way its looking its going to be so juicy!

Anyway thanks for reading. I cant believe the fic is so well recievied!

Aemond watching you/Petal sleep.

LMAO okay sorry do with that what you want.

Ok bye x

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 3 months ago

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 3 months ago

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The Art of Torture

(Aemond x oc/reader)

Concept: Aemond takes your home town.

CW: parental abuse, sex, titty sucking, incest, rape (not oc/aemond) childbirth, forced adoption, blood, gore, extreme descriptions of extreme gore and blood. torture. Murder, blood licking, tasting, tons of blood. Murder of innocents. Smut. Sex. loss of virginty, Aemond's sexual trauma, Aemond's eye trauma. Aemond being an idiot. I love forshadowing. Pay close attention.

There is more to torture than just killing. Torture, is an artform in a way. Only those with the right skills should perform it. Torture is breaking into someone's mind, understanding their thoughts, their fears and swaying them into trusting the enemy. An art on its own. Lost to most. You, you have been raised by the cruelest man alive. Brutus Bolton, your own father. And now, the gods, fate, destiny, however you want to call it: Has caught up with him at long last. And soon, your story will change.

The smell of blood hangs heavy in the air, choking the oxygen out of it. Aemond Targaryen’s long legs strut through the muddy snow, as he and his men look around for any survivors who can tell them where that coward fled to. It’s humiliating.

Aemond wipes his brow, putting a loose hair behind his ear, as he tightens his braid, barely keeping his locks together. Everywhere he looks, he sees dead corpses lying in the snow, their throats slit or heads removed. I’m not his dog.

A soldier runs past Aemond, barely paying him any mind, running off with a captured screaming, crying woman. They don’t respect me. He doesn’t respect me. I’ll never not be a shadow.

Screams, cries, begs, grunts, moans, all noise for Gods who do not listen. Prayers and begs for mercy that gods don’t have. A typical and yet unheard of war scene where Aemond’s troops play the main role. What did I do, but what was expected of me?

He would normally be disgusted by the behaviour of his soldiers. But today, today he does not care. He cannot bring himself to care about the life of the smallfolk on a regular basis. Today, they truly cross paths on an awful day. Let them rot in the deepest, seventh hell.

Prince Aemond had returned, carrying Lucery’s eyes with him. He offered the eyes to the Queen Dowager, his own mother. She slapped them out of his hands, cursing his name and embarrassed him in front of his brother’s court. Aegon agreed that Aemond had talents better suited elsewhere and now he’s up in the ‘’frozen shithole’’ as he calls it, capturing traitors no one truly gives a fuck about. Who cares what Brutus Bolton or his deranged sons are up to? They’re Boltons. They’re not Starks, they’re not Lannisters. Aemond being used to capture petty thieves is an insult that grazes and cuts him deeply.

A little girl runs away from a home he passes, tripping over a corpse on her way to freedom. Aemond watches as the soldier catches up to her, slamming the axe on the back of her head. The axe hits so deep, that Aemond can hear how it leaves her skin and hits the stones of the road. At least, he thinks he did. He might be imagining it.

One of the soldiers becomes a little bit uneasy, at this child dying. Aemond finds it strange. Why does a child matter above a adult? Is this some hypcrosim he’s too noble to understand? Or some matter of humanity he’s too dead inside to get?

One of his soldiers stares at the murdered girl. ‘’My Prince,’’ he falls before Aemond. Aemond feels the urge to kick him with his boots but resists the tempting urge for now. He knows this man. Lewin. Lewis? Lendry? Luckey?

The man reminds Aemond of his name. ‘’Aeron, my prince.’’ Ah. Not even close, oh well.

He does not like that name. ‘’You have something to say, Aeron?’’

Aeron seems to understand what a terrible mood Aemond is, and hesitates. But he does speak up to his Prince. ‘’I do. I know the Boltons offended you in great ways, but surely…This village belongs to the Starks. We should not loot, rape, pillage, and destory. We should only punish the Boltons.’’ The Prince laughs, barking with laughter at that idotic request. So he’s one of those fools.

Aemond leans in closer, staring at the woven small wooden beads the man wears. ‘’You think if the roles were reversed, they would think twice about raping your little sister in her maiden cunny? I have seen your sister. She’d be luckily if they slit her throat afterwards.’’ He waits to break eye contact to make sure the message is received. He pats his sword after.

‘’Either way you walk on, or you get on your knees and I’ll kill you for deserting. Your choice but make it fast. I’ve got other things to do.’’

As suspected, Aeron does not kneel and walks on, a lot paler than before. He reaches a strange house in the village. No warmth comes from it. No fire is burning inside. Who in their right minds-

‘’The Boltons have run. Can we now go join the others?’’ One of the other men asks Aemond, whining as a brat. Aemond looks at his face, filled with red spots, his crooked nose and his rotting teeth. Of course he would want to rape a woman. There’s no woman who would even touch that with a ten feet pole. ‘’King Aegon promised us rewards.’’ That’s when Aemond snaps.

Aegon is not here. He is. Aegon is laying in his bed, sleeping, warm, comfortable, when he’s out here, freezing, walking with blisters, wearing swords and daggers and protecting the kingdom, doing his duty when Aegon puts another bastard in some whore.

He does not warn the soldier. He just smacks him on the back of his head. ‘’You want to join your fellow soldiers? You can choose. You can join them into raping these whores after we are finally done, or you can join them in the afterlife after I’ve impaled your throat. Your choice.’’

‘’What a butch of men. Half of you are cowards, others of you would be better off at the wall.’’

And what does that say about Aegon? Either he didn’t know…

Or worse.

Aegon didn’t care to send good men with Aemond. Aegon wanted Aemond humbled, humiliated. Well, it looks like he’ll get his wish granted.

Aemond and his men pass the house, not paying any mind. Until Aemond hears a soft little noise that would go unnoticed for most inside the house. A very subtle breathe. Someone releasing their breath. He takes his sword out, and kicks the door open of the house. The door has been rotting from within, worms and other vermin greet Aemond as they slither and crawl outside, paying no mind to him or his men.

He pushes through, ignoring the darkness. The entire cottage is dark, said for the middle of the room, where a corpse is surrounded by four small candles. A young woman sits by the corpse, wearing a grey sack that barely suits her beautiful roundings. Aemond keeps the sword nearby, but does not bother to attack. It looks like he found Brutus Bolton, at long last. ‘’Who is that corpse?’’ Aemond asks.

One of the soldiers sets a step closer, but not too much. They seem to fear the woman. ‘’It’s Brutus. That must be his bastard. His daughter.’’ He says. ‘’We found no traces of her brothers. Maybe she knows where they went.’’ Aemond’s mouth makes a disapproving line when he hears the word bastard. But that does mean, she likely won’t have a husband. Her brothers fled, and her father is dead. She’ll comply, make a lovely hostage and if need be some company for the road.

You hear footsteps approaching, and via the broken glazing plate you put by the counters of the kitchen, you can see the fearsome prince approaching you. You keep your head down, your body shaking as you look at your father’s corpse. Your hands red, stained with blood after hugging him after the unspeakable crimes committed upon him. You repeat the same prayer over and over. The knife is just a reach away. The knife that was used to murder him. Your hands are stained with patterns and prints of sin, death, murder. Crimson drips from your fingertips as you clutch your dress, leaving bloody prints.

The Prince seems to halt in his cold approach. He sees you the way a man sees a woman. He sees you weak. He sees an orphan girl, now at the mercy of a group of killers. He sees a deer lured into the wolf’s den. You allow him to approach closer.

He does pity her. She has a lovely face, said for a ugly scar by her throat. He wonders how she got it. She smells horrible. Like death and rot. But he does not care. He will have his answers.

You scootch forward, ignoring the prince that was ready to put his hand on your shoulder, to alart you of his presence. Your father’s eyes are wide, and open, staring at the rotting ceiling.

His eyes describe horrors, Aemond notices right away when inspecting the corpse. Whatever killed him, it was gruesome. It was merciless and it was deadly. He smiles at the corpse. Whoever killed him, will be granted a reward. ‘’Find me who killed this fuck. They will be rewarded.’’ Aemond says, instantly. The soldier rushes off to spread his word, while the other four share confused looks. All but one.

The ugly soldier steps forward, and Aemond takes two step to protect his own nose. ‘’I killed him.’’ The ugly soldier says. Aemond does not even respond to that idiot. ‘’My Prince? I claim this girl as my reward…’’ He walks to the weeping girl. Aemond’s head bends in their direction.

You shriek, backing away from the smelling soldier. You smelled some corpses in your life. Saw some rats. Lived in a room filled where hounds live. But none of it smelled as he did. You just don’t want to be near his smell. ‘’How did you kill him, you were with me the entire time, you idiot. That girl is my only lead. You’ll let her be or I’ll have your head.’’ Your eyes sparkle at that threat, smiling at the prince. He does not return your smile, ignoring your thankfulness.

You think it’s time to let him now know. You played with them long enough.

You clutch your father’s dead corpse, and bend your head on his chest. You open your mouth and instead of weeping…

A horrifying, disturbing, unworldly, and utterly terrifying sharp chuckles of pure joy escape you as you clap your bloodied hands in delight. The soldier that wanted to rape you earlier now quickly puts his tiny cock away, staring at you in shock. You don't even acknowledge him. You begin to tear and break the bones of your father, putting the knife in his skin as you pry loose bones and skin alike.

The Prince sets a step towards you, intrigued by what you are doing. Aeron, horrified, hides behind his commander, the Prince. He never saw such bloodthrist. “Good gods-” one of his men begins to mutter but Aemond silences his wordlessly, his eye resting upon the youngest Bolton as you begin to remove the skin of your victim. Your father.

He watches with his breath as you remove the one after the other piece of skin; first timid and gentle, small pieces but eventually you learn what is in your blood, one way or another. The flesh tears loose and you rips it from the skin, flaying him fully. You release a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. You always pictured this moment, every time he beat you, every time he starved or hurt you: You pictured this moment. And now, now it’s here. You revel in his blood, smearing it over your face and body as a cry of happiness.

You revel in the delight and the blood as you happily lick off your fingers and hands, staring at the Prince as he clears his throat interrupting you. “That man was to be my hostage.” he informs you, staring at you.

You need to take a closer look at him. So you do. You stand up, your grey dress following you around because it's so big. You tilt your head at the strange man. Studying his hair and his lovely scar. You never saw a Valyrian. He seems surprised by your length as most men are.

Women are not supposed to be tall. Women are supposed to be fragile, weak, small, tiny and to be easily mastered. It is unlike their nature to assume that even the tiniest woman can reach up to grab a crown. And that even the largest woman can be seductive.

He has to admit to himself, you have a pretty face. A face too pretty to be wasted on some Northern savage. “You're the Prince.” You say, your head tilted sideways, your eyes and brows betraying that you found his approach confusing. “Have I done something wrong? I thought you ordered the death of the traitor.” You let out another harrowing cackle, patting your father’s skull, stroking it as if it is a mere flower. “He will look so lovely when the crows pick his eyeballs out.” you fantasies out loud, sharing your disturbing fantasies with the Prince.

She stares at the ugly soldier, licking blood off her thumb that she did not quite reach the first time. ‘’And you, you wanted to claim my kill. Quite rude.’’ Aemond ignores confusing feelings as he stares at you lick blood. He is supposed to be repelled. Why isn’t he? Why does he find her…pretty?

You smile, offering the prince your father’s skull. ‘’Your skull, my Prince.’’ You make a clumsy curtsy that fails miserably. ‘’I’m afraid the rest of his body is not for you. I have my own plans with it. But you can show your brother that you did a excellent job, here in the North.’’ You think back of all the delicious cries and screams you heard earlier, and chuckle. They were never friends.

Aemond inspects the skull, or the head, rather, and nods, giving it to a very disgusted Aeron. ‘’Now I need to figure out what I’ll do with you.’’ Aemond says, hoping the girl offers him some options. He has a few things in mind. She smiles. ‘’My men are quite lonely.’’

You snort with laughter, so hard that you sound as a pig. Aemond’s mask of stoic seems to break as a slow smile appears. ‘’Your men are little boys and cowards. I would not call them ‘Men’.’’ You say, turning around to collect your dagger. ‘’I do have one suggestion. You can take it or leave it. But I bet you want my brothers too, don’t you, Prince Aemond One Eye?’’ You smile, staring at the lovely detailed scar. He scowls, offended you brought up his scar. You reassure him by walking around him, giving him a flirty smile. ‘’I always thought every man should have scars, each for every victory they fought. And I heard, you are quite the victorious man. Or did I misheard?’’

Aeron does not trust this strange woman. He does not like how half of the crew is afraid and Aemond is hanging on her lips. ‘’My prince, this woman is clearly a witch or mentally deranged. I think we should count our losses and leave this very instant-’’

‘’Shut up before I’ll take your tongue out.’’ Aemond growls. ‘’She’s right about you lot. Cowards and one ugly raper. You’re not men. Next time, I’ll set out with women. They clearly know what they’re doing.’’ He says as you remove a stubborn piece of nut from one of your teeth with the dagger. ‘’Continue. You were going to offer me something. Something even sweeter than the blood on your face, perhaps?’’ He leans in, scooping a bit of blood off your face. You do find him attractive. You watch as he mirrors your action, tasting the blood and licking his own fingers off. You chuckle, delighted.

The woman claps her hands, delighted and even jumps up and down. Aemond is confused. She seems very childish, in some ways. But he kind of adores it. He likes that free spirit. He likes her innocence, and yet her dark rotten nature. ‘’Oh, you have no idea. My brothers, I know where they are.’’ He can feel that this will end in a good way. He can’t help but stare at her breasts.

The ugly soldier sadly tugs his coat, ruining his daydream.‘’You can’t believe this heathen. Who even would kill his own kin? Nothing so accursed as a…’’ The man stops talking, realising that Aemond has taken out his sword. He glares at the man, challenging him to continue. Kinslayer.

She smiles, lowering his blade subtly. ‘’I can find them for you. You’ll be back in your brother’s good graces.’’ But Aemond is not a fool. He knows that nothing comes without a price.

‘’And in return?’’ He asks, brows raised slightly.

You chuckle, liking the way where this is going. You could list all sort of beautiful rewards. Hm. What could you possibly want? ‘’You let me kill them. I want them to die a slow, painful death.’’ You tell him, staring at his hands. ‘’I want them to crave death. I want to inflict so much pain and misery on them that they already feel as if they parted this world and are in the deepest seventh hell.’’ You stare at the dragon pins on his coat, suddenly your interest peaking at seeing a dragon up close. ‘’Oh, and I want to ride with you on the dragon's back. I heard you have one.’’ You didn’t hear anything, truth be told. You kind of guessed it.

‘’Vhagar and I would be honoured.’’ Your whole world stops spinning at that one moment. You pull your necklace in your dress, your walls crumbling and you feel exposed and vulnerable. You had no comfort growing up. Your own family were monsters. And so you longed for your own monster. A monster to protect you. To keep you safe. One day, you heard stories of Visenya, a woman who is according to some monsters too. She rode the big beast Vhagar. You fell asleep, wishing you had a visenya. You fell asleep, crying, wanting anyone, someone, to protect you.

And now here he is. The protector. Your chance for freedom. With Vhagar of all dragons.

‘’You have her dragon? Visenya’s dragon?’’ Your voice becomes soft, timid, unsure, something you weren’t sure you could even hear in your own voice. Hope.

Aemond seems to notice her changing body language right away. ‘’Indeed I do.’’ He folds his hands on his back, tilting his head, smirking at her big eyes, and her stunned expression. That might be the first time she’s genuinely sincere and in awe of him. He likes this genuine excitement more than whatever she tried to do earlier.

You try to keep your walls around you, protecting your heart.

‘’Well, I must meet her.’’ You say, as a matter of fact.

The Prince stops you before you can rush off. ‘’First things first. Shall we go to my camp, mayhaps we can discuss our plans, and share a nice cup of wine while we’re add it?’’

–

His camp is nearby. You are allowed to bathe the blood away. You are led into the royal tent, the one where Aemond sleeps in. You marvel at his royal bed linen and his collection of books and swords. ‘’You can stay here. I don’t trust others enough.’’ He reveals to you, as he prepares two cups of wine. You know who he refers to. His soldiers.

Aemond and you sit down. ‘’You want to work with me then? Even after I killed that village?’’ He keeps his sword closeby. It does sound like madness….

If those villagers weren’t the deepest cursed creatures of the seventh deepest hells.You feel the anger rise up inside of you. ‘’I wasn’t friends with that village. They knew. Everyone in that godsdamned village knew. If they didn’t end my pain, why would I end theirs?’’ Aemond is silent, but nods along, as if agreeing with your anger. ‘’My only regret is that their suffering was just a night and not from days to years.’’ You say, and you mean every word. No suffering is enough.

You notice you become distant, so you mask your emotions. ‘’You want to talk strategy?’’

You want to put your hand on his knee but he moves position so you cannot. ‘’Yes. Where are they?’’ Aemond does not wait for your schemes, waiting impatiently for answers. That is a complicated answer.

You laugh. He is funny. He thinks you’ll answer him right away. ‘’I’m not telling you. I’m worried you’ll drop me off and don’t let me come along once I tell you. But rest assured, I’ll lead you to them.’’

‘’That sounds like a trap.’’ Aemond says, observant. You roll your eyes, showing him your dagger. He nearly jumps, seeing the blade you had hidden away. You shrug.

‘’I have you alone here. If I wanted you dead, you’d be such a pretty corpse by now.’’ You say, touching his lips with your blade. You put it away, smirking, oblivious to his longing stare, and his silence. You notice his bloodied sword and his silent glance. You smile, crawling on his lap as you begin to clean the sword for him. ‘’You don’t mind me sitting here, do you? It’s a bit cold.’’ You lie.

You only feel his hands wrap around your throat. You are worried for one split second, afraid he’ll finally kill you. But his eye says something else. You are kissed the next moment. You allow yourself to nibble on his lips, feel his face, and quickly remove the eyepatch. Aemond pushes you off, hurt and shame burning in his eye. ‘’No.’’ He manages to croak out.

You freeze, eyepatch in hand. He covers his eye. ‘’I don’t…’’ He says, breathing heavily. You see yourself. You drop the eyepatch, but do return to his side. You take his free hand, feeling the long fingers. You gently remove his hand from his eye. He stares at you, ashamed as only one eye looks back now. One eye, and a hideous scar that no doubt brings him so much pain and shame.

‘’I told you before, men should have scars. I don’t mind that you have them.’’ You repeat, feeling the scar gently with your fingertips. You leave a kiss on his lips. You don’t expect him to return to whatever was happening, but you notice some determination breaking through him. He grabs you by your hips, kissing you back, first gently, then hungry, almost needy, as if he will die without you. You and him kiss as Aemond removes your dress, kissing your breasts and he halts by the scars on your throat. You don’t want to talk about it. But you know you must if you want to earn his trust. ‘’They threw me to the hounds when I was three.’’ You admit. Aemond doesn’t say a word. ‘’I didn’t die, unfortunately. I instead befriended them. I became their leader.’’ He is speechless still.

You carefully kiss him back, eager for something now that that pain comes back out of its shell. A distraction on your part, you are certain. You play along however, for now.

“What is it that you want?” He whispers in her ear. She has got to be the most haunted and cursed soul he ever saw. And yet he cannot deny that he wants her. But he has a mission, so he must bed her easily, and then she’ll leave his mind for good. “I'll be gentle.” He promises her. “And kind. You'll be taken care of.”

Her chuckle betrays that she feels better, and less upset, reminded by her traumas.

“What if I don't want it to be gentle and kind?’’ His mouth slightly opens in a confused manner, as you begin to undress him now too. ‘’What if I want that man…” she reaches for his manhood, surprising and arousing him. “that took my home town?” You grin.

He is aroused you can tell by all the signs. Yet he seems to deny himself this pleasure.

“You want that?’ He asks, confused.

You roll your eyes, playfully. “I want you, Aemond. I want the Kinslayer and the one eyed prince. I want to see your darkness and that you poison me with it from within.” You bow your head to his cock and begin to gently suck on it, as Aemond relaxes, sighing.

“Gods be good,” He whispers. She laughs much softer and begins to trust her hips to his front, gently beginning what both of them wanted. She puts his hands on her hips, learning him a new exciting thing. He normally fucks women lying down.

“I am not very …” He knows he should tell her. But he cannot bring the words over his lips. Instead he stares at her, with a heartbreaking sadness in his eyes. She caresses his face again.

You are dumbstruck. How can such a mighty creature think so lowly of itself?

“You'll be fine.” you promise him instead of laughing. “You ride fiercer creatures. You ride a dragon. How scary can a girl be, once you have tamed and claimed a dragon?’’ He seems to lighten up at this joke, joining you at long last. You feel him penetrate and you hold back the first soft moans.

You smile, enjoying your position. But suddenly, something seems to click in Aemond’s mind. He seems to wake up for the spell you put him under. You are flipped within a moment, now under him. He pins you down and begins to roughly fuck you instead. ‘’You wanted me? You’ll get me.’’ He whispers, before slamming inside of you. You ignore the jab of pain and betrayal and let the man do as he wishes, knowing well you still will get pleasure out of it. But you aren’t sure if Aemond trusts you more or less after you and him have done this. Aemond isn’t happy with how things are going, and instead resorts to an older technique he learned in the brothel. He yanks her up by her long hair, bending her on the bed, ass towards him. He forces her down, climbing slightly on her body and fucks her from behind. He hears her approving cries as he begins to reach his height, ecstasy blinding him.

You never had done this before, and you are thankful for it. It is true that Aemond is not the most considerate bed partner, but you would have to be blind to not notice something is deeply wrong with him. He has some disdain and shyness towards the bedroom that seems to remind you of how girls who served your father acted. He might pretend he’s a tough prince, but deep down, you know he’s broken from the core, and only a few strings keep him standing up. Aemond groans, reminding you of your duties as your thoughts race, and you buck back, allowing him to take you as he likes. ‘’Fuck me, kinslayer.’’ You whisper, rubbing his legs. He groans a reply, in a strange tongue you don’t know and takes you much faster, much rougher. It’s less elegant and less gentle, it hurts, if you’re being honest. But you like it way too much to call him to a stop. You hear Aemond finally come, and its the most amazing feeling in the world, aside from killing as he fills you with his seed. He thinks he holds the power, but you do. You made him lose control. You made him come. You smirk, glad Aemond is still facing the other side.

‘’I do mean it. I want to know where your brothers are. This distraction, it won’t save you.’’ He adds, panting heavily. ‘’I…’’

You ignore his stuttering and turn back around, gaze upon him as some smitten maid and kiss his lips again. ‘’Do not worry. I will have my revenge.’’ You say, clearly. Aemond nods, agreeing to your words. ‘’And so will you.’’ You add. ‘’You will have it all. The realm..’’You rub his legs as he lays next to you, panting still. You are breathless too. You are also still aroused. You didn't get to finish. You kiss his balls. ‘’The throne..’’You add, making direct eye contact. Aemond’s brows frown, but his eyes are closed. He seems to know that its wrong to want, but he wants it regardless. You place yourself back on his cock. ‘’The world.’’ You finish, and begin to trust your hips, chasing your own pleasure. Aemond allows this, and holds you and takes you as well as he can but its clear that he didn’t keep your pleasure in mind. You come, crying out as you soak his cock. Aemond has his eyes still closed, but now there’s a pleasant cheeky smile on his lips.

‘’I do want it.’’ He admits, holding your hands suddenly.

‘’The realm?’’

‘’The world.’’

‘’’Then what is stopping you? I saw you with the flock you call men. I saw you riding your horse, I saw you commanding your men. You are meant for all of it.’’ You tell him, smirking.

‘’You care for what?’’

‘’Maybe I’m hoping once you’ll become King, I’ll become your Queen. And we burn villages atop of Vhagar together. Drink wine out of our enemies skulls, burn houses of traitors with them locked in the basements, dance in blood, play games with bones.’’ You whisper, letting the fantasy take over.

Aemond avoids your eyes. ‘’I must marry to keep my blood pure, if I were the King.’’ He says, and you don’t like how much pain he causes with that little sentence. You nod, blinking as some idiot at his rejection. His eye sparkles, however. ‘’But, if you have some villages in mind, we can go now. I have a free hour.’’ He says. You dive atop of him, kissing his lips as you eagerly get into your clothes. Aemond follows, much slower, but also eager.

Aemond prepares for Vhagar as you patiently wait, picking your dagger back up, hiding it in your boots. You hear Aemond laugh as he greets his dragon. You walk behind him, the dagger burning in your boots. The soldiers don’t mind the two of you, as night has befallen the camp. You wait until Aemond has come to fetch you. ‘’What is the matter? Have you changed your mind?’’ He asks. You feel the dagger burn. You stare at Vhagar. Vhagar roars, in warry.

‘’I have.’’ You proclaim.

Aemond’s smile dies as you take out your dagger.

You look at him. ‘’I was sent to kill you, Prince Aemond. I was sent and hired by your sister to kill you. She would give me so much riches if I did.’’ You recall your deal with Rhaenyra as Aemond gawks, the guards quickly surrounding you. You put your dagger back in your boot. ‘’However, I suggest we do something more fun. I suggest, we make her think I’ve captured you, and you show up with your dragon and burn her to a crisp. How does that sound?’’

Aemond only smiles. ‘’I accept. On one condition.’’ You wait, staring at him.

‘’You will ride beside me when I burn her and the other bastards. You will also tell me where your brothers are.’’ He says. ‘’Or I’ll kill you right now.’’

You chuckle again. ‘’My brothers are at different locations..’’ You say, grinning. ''One is at the Red keep. Another, at Oldtown. Another again, marches in the North.''

He frowns. He looks at your face, again, and again and it finally hits him. It hits him so hard, that the sword clatters from his hands and falls to the ground. He begins to cough, violently. You open your arms, smiling. Brutus didn’t father you. Brutus raised you. On behalf of someone in the Red Keep. Someone who wanted to keep you alive, but a secret. ‘’Hello, brother. It is a honor to finally meet you.'' You fold your hands on your back and wait for Aemond to speak. You give him a grin, but its a bit too much for Aemond. He is caught by two guards before he faints, hitting the ground as Vhagar huffs, returning to her sleep at last.

A/N

Idk whats even going on she was so keen on being Brutus' daughter what do you mean she is LARYS daughter with Alicent or maybe Cole and alicents daughter what do you mean?! WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS MEAN.

yeah, i dont write outlines so this is a surprise for me as much as its for you all! I do like Aemond fainting like thats fair, man. I'd faint too if that was my sister. Girlie needs help.

thank you if you read.

let me know what you think if you stomached through it.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #dark aemond targaryen x oc #darkfantasy #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond #Aemond targaryen x oc #Dark fics

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 4 months ago

Text

Interesting thoughts!!

I'd like to extend the moment and thank you for reading my fic.🥹 it means the world that you do. I love reading your theories and your comments. I'm so privileged to have such a lovely friend group.

Aemond is definitely head over heels for her😂. He's a bit awkward because of that but I think it's really cute secretly yeah it's really adorable. A nice change from the dark aemonds I usually write

Chains of Bones: DARK!GODAEMOND X READER (snippet, short thingy)

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:4853 (wow what a nice number)

Alicents pov (3th person)

The Underworld smells of burned wood and rotting leaves. Crushed dreams and broken hope. The smell of it alone makes her consider even setting a step further.

A long time ago, she vowed she would never set a foot down here. It was unbefitting for the Queen and Goddess of Justice to visit a place so corrupt and immoral.

She can't help but wonder if that is the true reason why her heart is beating out of her chest, why she never visited this place, or if it's her once so kind now demonic son who is ruling the Underworld has more to do with it. More than she'd like to admit, that is the true reason. He has a grip on her, and he knows that all too well.

Aemond did leave a portal, a small way for her to enter the Underworld open for her. He did so for her. Yet she never visited him. Not once. The pain of seeing what he has become hurts her soul too much.

The portal brings her right where Aemond is at that very moment, enjoying a lunch in a lavishly decorated room. Chandeliers decorated with skulls silently dance on the command of the wind, softly swinging back and forth.

Aemond sits on a tall, dark chair with a high back, covering almost his entire body as if he's hiding himself somehow. The room is surrounded in darkness, with only the skull chandeliers and a small candle on the table giving the faintest of light. The light of the silver simple candelabra catches his sapphire, giving it a terrifying glow. He eats without his eyepatch. Odd. She remembers he preferred to hide his socket rather than to show it off. But now he doesn't seem to care at all.

Her son is unrecognisable. He wears green but it might as well have been black. The colour makes him look paler and highlights his sharp features. His hair is still as long as it used to be, maybe longer. A clip made from two finger bones holds his hair neatly in place. At the end of the silver, unnaturally shimmering hair, blood can be seen dripping down silently, yet it never hits the ground. His fingernails are long, deadly and dangerous and almost clawlike. The nails begin in a dark, rotting colour that ends in a bloodied red pattern where veins and darkness dance, creating a pattern unique to each fingerbone.

Alicent stares at her own nails, broken off from all the pulling she did. Aemond did not inherit that toxic trait from her. But when she studies him so quietly, she notices that he does impatiently tap his fingers against the wood of the table, signaling he wishes his dinner to be served and served now.

A servant wearing a dark green apron with white details carefully places a gilded serving scale in front of the God, barely hiding her shaking hands and trembling fingers. Alicent wants to speak out, to tell her to not be afraid. But she can't. She doesn't know this man. Not anymore.

The lit is lifted and reveals a dark blackened pig. Aemond picks up the silver decorated knife with eye-like details as Alicent watches in awe. Roast pig used to be his favourite. Some things haven't changed. It fills her chest with hope, as she watches her son tear the ears from the beast, silently still.

He begins to eat the ears first, and Alicent notices he eats it fast, almost as if he's in a hurry.

The other servant presents him the goblet in the form of a skull, richly filled to the brim with a crimson coloured wine. The smell of it even reaches Alicent and even though it's been a while, she can smell the powerful herbs all the way from where she's standing. Aemond brings the skull to his dry lips and throws it back, loudly shuddering and hissing, twisting in his chair as the drink travels through his body.

He stands up too fast, pushing the chair away from him as he grabs the wood of the table, crying out in absolute pain, whimpers that trigger Alicent’s mother instincts that she thought she had lost so long ago. She doesn't understand what he is doing. Or why. She steps forward but stops. The skull is grabbed by Aemond again and this time he crushes it easily to dust, signaling that he is done with whatever was in the wine.

She watches as another cup is brought out, made of green glass and decorated with blue gemstones. Aemond grabs this eagerly and drinks this too, but much slower.

She understands he is preparing for war. Giving himself ambrose water to create a resistance to it. Rhaenyra told her that a drop could weaken the King of the Underworld, and that two could possibly make him pass out. Yet Aemond is standing tall, gulping down on the pig that is ripped to pieces in front of Alicent. He drank a full cup. And it did him nothing.

He begins to talk, after he has finished his meal. “Let the Magister know that the wine can be doubled. I am strong enough for it now.” He stares at the servant girl until she understands he is speaking to her. He calmly removes the sapphire from his eye, scratching deep in the socket, where spiders and bugs come crawling out of. That seems to do the trick, as the frightened girl now runs off, screaming in utter fear.

He chuckles, delighted as the illusion fades away. “How is my Queen doing?” He asks the servant man who had been quietly watching the bloody and violent scene of Aemond ripping apart the pig. Aemond chews on a leg of the pig.

Alicent tenses up at the mention of the mortal girl Aemond abducted. “I wouldn't know, my King. You forbade us all from entering her rooms without your explicit consent. You should ask Ann, her assigned handmaiden.”

Aemond drops his fork silently, briefly touching the metal ends as it cuts in his flesh. He doesn't feel a thing. The poison dulls it all. He stands up, nodding slowly as he approaches the servant. “You think you can command me?”

The servant understands he made a grave mistake. “No, my King. It was a mere suggestion. Ann is her handmaiden. Y-you arranged that yourself.” He nervously stutters.

Aemond sighs, ignoring the servant again as he grabs another piece of the pig, tearing another paw off. “I did. I want her to be prepared for what the future might bring. Rhaenyra never has been keen on sharing. Not with me, not with Aegon.” The servant frowns. Aemond is very careful of mentioning his family members around his staff. Most of the servants wouldn’t even know that Aemond has a family to begin with.

The man seems intrigued by the mention of the brother of Aemond. “Who is Aegon, my King?” He is a curious one. That would have served him well. If only things were different. If only he wasn't…

“My brother.” Aemond reveals, trying to keep his face in an emotionless state by the memory of how Aegon and him parted.

The eyes of the servant widen in a pleasant surprised expression, betraying what Aemond already knows; He has a brother too. “You have a brother? Why, I never would have guessed.” He exclaims, surprised. There is hope in his eyes.

Aemond shrugs, not going into much detail as he chews on the paw, careful to mind the bones. “It's because in the Underworld, I like to keep my family secret. Even knowing their names can be disastrous for them, and for that reason; be disastrous for me.” He reveals.

The man is no longer smiling, and Aemond can hear the beat of his heart increasing as a smirk spreads on his own cracked lips. “Then why tell me-” Oh he knows why. He knows why all too well.

He only smiles. “I have reason to believe you are someone very special. The way my Queen is special. You are an unpolished weapon. A piece of forged steel.” Aemond drops the paw, paying his full attention to the man as Alicent gulps, reading his body language. He moves too eager, he smiles too broadly and he chuckles too darkly as a monster is crawling out of the shell that once was her son.

The servant tries to save himself, understanding danger is nearby. “I am not, my King. I am your humble, loyal, servant!’’

Aemond rolls his good eye, laughing as he grabs the man by his thin underfed shoulders, shaking him and enjoying the confusion and fear that is written across the man's face. A kill is not fun on its own. He needs to see that realization. He needs to see that they know they have lost. He needs them to understand who won. “Yes you are. Your blood and your bones are important to someone I happen to despise. With your end, they will only become stronger.”

The man gulps, eager for an escape. He can't see Alicent but somehow he does pray to her. He is praying to her, the Goddess of Justice. She feels it in her bones and she must ignore his request. “I won't betray you. Not after you've given me a chance.” The man says. “You saved me from the flames.” He adds. “You made me your servant.” True, because Aemond had picked up on the man’s abilities rather quickly, hoping to one day use him as a bargaining chip. But that day won’t come, as he cannot live a life where his enemy is possibly stronger than him.

Aemond sighs, annoyed and done with the game already. He doesn't understand that his Queen can be so interesting and fierce when this sack of blood and bones barely gives him the satisfaction of a fight. Mortals can be so boring. “It won't be up to you, you mortal toad. A slit of your throat could empower him. I can't have that. I can't have that at all.”

Aemond silently rips open the chest, tearing through clothing, skin, and organs. Blood comes pouring out of the servant, staining the white tiles in the dining room. Alicent can't believe what she is seeing as Aemond continues to tear through organs, making sure there is nothing usable left. “You killed him.” She says the moment she has found her voice. And she didn't do anything. She was frozen in shock or disgust. That man served Aemond loyally and he killed him just like that.

He licks off his bloodied fingertips. “You could have interfered. I was hoping for that. One of your boring speeches about how I'm better than that.” He turns around at long last, facing her directly with a cheeky smirk and a sparkle in his eye.

She feels the blood drain from her face, making herself taller by lifting her head.

“You knew I was here?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. As a mortal boy, my ears have always worked perfectly fine. As an immortal God, well…” The servant girl returns, interrupting the two immortal Beings. She seems confused by Alicent’s appearance, but doesn’t question her master at all. She doesn't know Alicent is a goddess.

He addresses her quickly, smiling as she tells him in a trembling voice that she has done what he asked of her. “Ah, thank you, darling. You can rest now.” The King of the Underworld turns around to face his mother, daring her to speak up. He used that word on purpose, giving her a taste about what is to come. Alicent stares him down, warning him of the consequences. But Aemond never cared about the consequences. You need to value life to care about that.

When she doesn't, he places both his hands on the servant’s trembling shoulders, and grabs her throat, piercing the delicate skin and ripping her throat out, as the girl lets out one horrified scream before she drowns in her own blood. The first kill was his duty. The second, a warning to his mother. He won’t let anyone interfere with his plans, certainly not her. “Aemond,”Alicent hisses, in anger and fear. Disgusted she stares at her son.

Bored, Aemond sits back down on the chair he threw around the room, now standing perfectly up in the corner again. “Do not raise your voice at me, Mother. You are my guest here. What do you want? I doubt you came here to congratulate me on my upcoming wedding.” He crosses his arms, waiting for her explanations or rather her excuses.

She is surprised that he still keeps up that lie. He doesn’t plan on marrying her at all, he plans on murdering her. Rhaenyra told her so. “I came here for that. You are to release that poor girl.” She says, referring to the mortal girl Aemond kidnapped.

He doesn't even consider her words. He knows the truth. If he was, she would end up dying within the first minute he turned her back on her. And he can't turn his back on her. “Why on the ends of the world would I? I happen to quite like her. For a mortal, she is surprisingly amusing.” He tries to play it off as a joke, hiding his true intentions and feelings.

Alicent doesn't even pay enough attention to see that her own flesh and blood is lying.

“You only kidnapped her to infuriate Rhaenyra.” She says to which Aemond rolls his good eye, lazily rubbing the socket of his other, trying to hide his frustrations that just the name of that woman brings.

He speaks, licking his lips. “You know, contrary to what that woman believes, the sun and the moon and the stars do not always revolve around her.” His father believed it. Daemon believes it. His own mother believes it. He doesn’t. He knows what she truly is. A parasite, sucking the life out of everyone she sets her tiny little fangs into.

Alicent knows what it’s like to be kidnapped and to be forced to marry someone you don’t want to marry at all. She knows very well because that is exactly what happened to her and Viserys. He might not have kidnapped her, but he sure made her feel as a worthless prisoner. “The girl was her servant and you took her but not before shamelessly assaulting the poor girl.”

She knows Aegon had a few incidents of hurting women, but she never expected Aemond to stoop that low. Maybe the truth is that her parenting is the issue of the unspeakable natures of her boys. The God of the Underworld crosses his legs, laughing in delight. “Ah. Is that what Rhaenyra told you? Well, let me tell you the truth; The Girl wanted me. She begged me, in fact, quite loud about that.’’ He reveals. ‘’Why didn’t Rhaenyra tell you that, Mhm. I wonder…’’ He revels in her shock.

The first oh so solid and unbreakable expression on her face now becomes doubt and uncertainty as she judges whether or not he is lying to her. “Why would she? She knows what sort of vile creature you are.” She says. Aemond stands up, slowly coming her way. When he is in front of her, he lifts the sleeve of her arm, staring at the scar she recently received when protecting her own life.

He smiles at the scar, finding it a poetic reminder how she was once his whole world and his protector. He always was pessimistic and negative growing up but not once did he doubt her and her intentions. And yet she sold him out. “The creature that you made me, Mother. You won't have her and neither will Rhaenyra. She is mine.”

“I came here to take her. With or without your consent. It could finally mean peace, between the realms of Light and Dark.” Peace. Peace. There is no peace. There can’t be peace, for there is no balance. Peace without balance will break again, the way a drop of rain splashes on the tiles.

The mention of peace, just the idea of peace when his half-sister is sitting on that throne unpunished while his eye is missing, his love is dead, and his life is ruined, is too much to bear. “You can leave the castle now. Empty-handed. You will go back to that whore of a woman and bend your knees for her, crawl and degrade yourself as the blood of your grandson gushes over your head that you couldn't deliver Rhaenyra what she wanted.” He brings up the young Jaehaerys, his nephew that Rhaenyra’s husband had slayed in his bed when Jaehaerys became God of the Animals. Now Rhaenyra’s son, Aegon the younger, is the new God of animals. Jaehaerys was killed in cold blood and all Alicent wants to do is roll over and let her enemies get away with it as they have gotten away with so many things.

He is done with it.

“Aemond-”

He is not quite finished yet, unleashing all his bottled up rage as he pictures the faces of his brothers and his sister on the day his mother, their mother, sold them out to the enemy who only ever wanted them dead. “Because why would you give a damn about my happiness? Or Aegon's? Or Helaena's? Or Daeron’s?”

She can tell what is coming, silently tearing up. She can already hear the words he is about to throw at her, cutting her flesh and damaging her soul. Aemond points his finger in her direction, carefully lowering it the moment he sees flames coming from the tips. “You never wanted us. You never wanted any of us-”

And that's when she snaps. “Of course I didn't!” Alicent screams, tears bursting from her eyes. “I was seven and ten. I was married to a man I used to look up to, the King of gods! An older man that had been so kind all my life. Now I wonder if he was after that all along. I was forced to be bred by a stinking old man that fathered my best friend, who called me a whore and despised me.” Aemond is silent, for the first time in a long time. “No, Aemond. I never wanted to have any of you. But I did it because it was my duty.”

She always did use that as her shield. Shields break over time. They lose their value. As do apologies and excuses. She was a young naive girl once, but she has changed. She cannot crawl into her old self anymore. No matter how tight she holds onto it; He knows better than most that its already gone.

His mother nervously picks at her nails, tears soiling her dress and ruining her makeup. He offers her a napkin to wipe her tears. It's the least he can do. For all her flaws, she's his guest. But when she is sniffing he becomes annoyed. “They wanted my throat slit and paraded your grandson's head around town. Two drunk idiots, mortal idiots outsmarted the Gods, showed all the mortals we rule over that we are nothing but flesh and bone, same as them. They challenged our birthright and our succession laws, they questioned our culture and our heritage.’’ He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “And you still dream of peace. I don't know if I'd call it delusion or stupidity or masochism at this point. Do you perhaps enjoy hurting yourself? Or maybe it's sadism that you like to inflict and punish us all for how your life turned out?” She just lets him rage, although his accusations do hurt her and he does make a point.

“If Rhaenyra wanted peace, she'd bend her knees to my brother and offer me her little bastard sons as a peace offering for me to slay.” He knows she'll never agree to those terms. But it would come close to balance. An eye for an eye. A son for a son. And a crown for a crown. It would be leveling the scales for once in their favor, not hers.

Alicent is shocked and disgusted once more, shocked at this confession but not surprised. He always wanted revenge. Ever since he lost his eye. The godhood of death only made him more cruel and certain of that. “You don't mean that.” He can’t mean to harm the little children.

She never liked Jace, the little noisy brat. Lucerys was a bully, always playing the innocent, and Joffrey is a reckless little brat that one day will get himself killed. Aegon took over the godhood of the Animals from Jaehaerys. She will always resent him for it. But Aegon is a child. Does she want him to die for it? No. Not entirely at least. And Viserys…A shell of a lonely boy. She doesn't know how to feel about him.

Alicent is bound by duty and chained by love to her friend and her children. Her duty as Goddess requires her to be a open-minded forgiving person.

Aemond learned a long time ago that he's on his own however. He doesn't trust anyone. That way no one will hurt him. “But I do. I do mean that.” He looks into her brown eyes, staring her down. “I kill them every night in my dreams. I rip their throats open, I smash in their skulls, I tear their livers out and squeeze their eyeballs until they pop. I picture their whimpers as well as their screams and no matter how graphic the dreams get, they'll never beat the sweet sweet momentum of reality. There's no one I'd rather kill. Pure because it would destroy Rhaenyra.”

He is still a child himself, in so many ways. She sees that now. A child trapped in a horrible memory. “Killing her sons will not kill her.” She tells him, gently, touching his face.

He shrugs her hand away, offended she even dared to touch him. “Oh, but it would. Just slowly. The mental toll on that head would be too big if she lost them all. She'd go mad or kill herself.” He shrugs as if picturing Rhaenyra dead and how he wouldn't weep a second for his half sister.

Alicent pictures her friend laying death on the floor and can’t help but shudder. As the goddess of Justice she often, too often is confronted with souls who could not carry their burdens any longer. It never gets easier for her. It is as if looking in a mirror every time. “Lie to yourself all you want, Mother. You know who I am. As do I.” He says.

He knows he can provoke her even more and makes up terrible ideas of torture on the spot. “Jace would piss himself. The little one, that Joffrey would be stupid and try to run. My hounds would catch him. I'd collect whatever's left of his bastard body, and maybe ship it to Rhaenyra with Jace's eyeless head.’’

She chuckles, annoyed and furious. “Fantasize all you want. Those boys Are as immortal as you are.” For now, maybe.

He leans in closer, grinning as he unveils his plans a tiny bit. ‘’Are they now?’’

Her tears threatened to fall, breaking her mask. “Enough deflecting. I've come here for the Girl. You won't do what happened to me to her.”

He feels the words already grow in his mind as he thinks of the ultimate way to express himself and make it clear for once and for all that he is nothing like his dead old father and that his Queen is his and his alone.

“That Is what makes this all so, so sad, Mother.” He grabs her hands, touching her fingertips. “I do love her. Father never loved you. I allow her privileges unheard of for Queens. She will love me, in time. I know it for certain. I won't do what was done with you. Unlike you, Petal is worth the effort. She is worth loving.’’

Alicent doesn't respond, studying him closely. It disappoints him that she didn't cry or sob. It hurts him because why wouldn't she cry at those vile heartless words? Unless she doesn't care what he says. Not anymore.

He wonders…

Did she ever?

“You seem so different, Aemond. Your cheeks have colour and your eye sparkles. You look smitten.’’ He stares at his hands, noticing a faint unfamiliar colour he hasn’t seen in ages, that comes almost close to his own skin. He has changed. Shocked, he looks at his other hand and notices the same flesh colour.

And it terrifies him. “Do not take her from me.’’ It is supposed to sound threatening and booming, commanding and terrifying as he truly feels. But she caresses his face again, touching his skin with her own warm fingers when she simply looks at her son, not the God. He softens and breaks, his walls shattering. It sounds as a plea, a whisper, a beg for mercy. A boy crying out for his mother.

“I won't, sweet boy.’ She says, to his own surprise.

He is shocked. He can’t fight the smile of his lips. Finally, she is choosing him. “But Rhaenyra-” He must have heard it wrong. She never picked him before. Or it's a trap, surely.

Alicent scoffs, a dismissive little noise he always had hoped she would make when discussing her friend. “Rhaenyra made her choice when she allowed my grandson to be slain in his bed. As I now make mine. You won't be giving her that girl at all. But I am the goddess of Justice, Aemond. I can't allow gods to sweep in and kidnap and impregnate mortals.” She says, a bit uncomfortable. “You say you love her. That is wonderful. But does she return your feelings?”

He didn't even hear her words. His mind hangs by one sentence. Frozen in time. A pregnant Petal. Aemond smiles at the idea of Petal running around, chasing blonde haired children with her beautiful eyes and her smile, around his castle while he joins in the chase, playing with their children. Petal hands him their son, and as Aemond takes the baby from her, the dream is cut to pieces.

A sharp pain interupts the vision. A demanding pain that causes him to almost double over. He clutches at his chest, close to the hole where his heart once was. A grunt escapes him as the pain fades.

At first he can't believe what has happened. Then he plans to get rid of whoever witnessed this moment of weakness.

No servant saw what happened. But a very distraught pale Alicent did. “Was that-” She mutters, her brown eyes big with confusion, And also…Hope.

Aemond ignores her, with shaking legs he walks back to the chair and allows himself to sit, feeling exhausted. He knew Petal's grip was strong. But not this strong. Not strong enough to possibly restore his heart. He took it out for a reason. He threw it away for a reason. He doesn't need it. Not when he is ruling and not when fighting wars. And now Petal has somehow returned a piece to him, unknowing. Not even Petal, no, he did just by thinking of her enchanting smile. He sighs, briefly disgusted with himself. What is he even turning into?

Alicent follows her son, watching him silently. She sees her son for the first time in years. She thought Aemond lied about the mortal girl. That it was lust or loneliness or maybe boredom that drove him to kidnap the girl. But now she sees that he cares. And that he is changing.

Aemond sighs, displeased how hopeful his Mother is. She is already planning her schemes he is sure of it. But so can he. If she believes he's changed for the better; Let her. It will be put to good use. And then it all comes together. How to get revenge on Rhaenyra, her bastards, her idiotic husband, and even to make his mortal Queen a goddess herself. It will take a while, and it will be a slow plan but he has time. He has all the time in this godforsaken world. “Can't we make an agreement?” He asks.

She just stares at him, confused. He knows what she wants. What she always secretly wanted despite she denied it herself so many times. “You mentioned Petals flaw.” He says keeping it vague.

“Her mortality?” He grumbles at that word, refusing to acknowledge that his love could even be mortal. He needs that mistake corrected as soon as possible.

He plays nice, however. For now. “Yes. I'd like to solve that problem. But I need help.”

His mother knows that he is up to no good. “What's in it for me?”

He smiles, as if he was waiting for those words. “Why, the purest of motivations of course: Revenge against the man that killed your grandson.”

A/N

thats just the intro of the chapter 4 of this fic and its already up to 4k lords have mercy. xD I wanted to share this introduction because it has been too long and i am still alive. I'm working on the next chapter of this fic, so it will be done one of these days but i hope you can forgive me for not updating that long sorry:(

#aemond targaryen #Lovely friends and lovely readers

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