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asumofwords · 10 months

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Mentions of assault, mocking, face fucking, somnophilia, dacryphilia, dubcon.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels, did you all see AO3 was down? I was distraught lmaooo wtf??? But it's back up now which means I can have my little night time stories again hehe. Reader has been working hard to get where she is and honestly? Slay. So here is the next chapter, I will say, things will be moving a lil quickly from here on out so buckle yourself up babes <3 Enjoy!

Chapter 81: A Council of Green

The dinner was uncomfortable for you all. Just as expected.

You had gotten dressed for the evening with the help of Joanna and Amala, a black dress with red stitching and embroidery, hair half up, and half done in intricate braids with small rubies laid inside.

Aemond had been dressed in his usual black leathers again, the tunic buckling up high on his throat, but his hair was braided back and away from his face, half up, half down.

Two halves of a whole.

You had walked together, anticipation strumming in your veins with every step you took towards the Great Hall with Aemond. Anxiety steadily building as you got closer, knowing that you would be in the presence of Aegon once again, and not only that, but his entire small council including the slimy Lord, Jason Lannister.

When you had arrived, you had been relatively on time. Most of the Lords arrived at the same time as you, with Alicent decked in her usual deep green. She had blinked at you oddly, as though she had not expected you to join, or that she had been told that you would not.

Though Aegon was nowhere to be seen.

Ser Otto Hightower however, did not even spare you a second glance, as though you were part of the furniture or one of their tacky Seven tapestries that defiled the castle walls.

Perhaps you were like a part of the furniture by now.

There, seen, and rarely heard.

When Aegon finally arrived, all having waited for him for a time, food already atop the table, he was flanked by Ser Cole, who announced his entrance to the Great Hall and the small council who joined as though they were not aware of who the pompous silver haired fool was already.

The wives of the Lords of the Small Council were also present, dressed conservatively in their House colours, bright blues and soft yellows and reds. When you had sat yourself down and looked amongst the long wooden table, you had attempted to gage the attention of the other women, hoping that perhaps you could make a friend. But none of the women turned to acknowledge you, avoiding your eye carefully.

The table was full tot he brim, and even the longer tables that flanked the sides of the Hall were full of men and women, servers and guards stationed about the sides of the room. There were even some lower Lords who were not a part of the council, but in charge of large plots of land or advantageous Houses and trades.

It was, for the most part, a loud and joyous affair for them, or for all those except anyone who had witnessed the Prince and the King’s spat. Whenever Aegon’s eyes would graze over the two of you, landing on you in curiosity, the Maester or another Lord like Jasper Wylde, or even Otto Hightower would ask the King a question, speaking loudly to gain his attention.

Like you would a child.

But whilst most eyes were not on you, you felt a pair beside the King’s short glances to be particularly burning.

Jason Lannister sat at the end of the table, donned in his House colours of red and Gold, his blue eyes glued to you and Aemond. Beside him, an empty chair where his wife would have been.

"And where is your wife, Jason.” Aegon asked, noting the absence of the woman, and the presence of every other Lords.

“She sends her apologies that she could not join me in King’s Landing. She is recently with child, and well…” Jason intoned, a limacious smirk winding on his face, “You know how women get when they swell.”

The Lords wives stayed quiet, some with small, shy smiles on their faces in mock agreement whilst the Lords half heartedly agreed, others more enthusiastically than others.

It made your skin feel alight.

“And how do they get, Lannister?” Your voice carried across the table snidely before you could stop it.

A knife scraped across a plate, and all eyes were on you. You could feel Aemond’s careful gaze on the side of your cheek as you stared at Jason.

Prick.

The sound of Aegon snickering caught your ears, and you fought to not turn and face him.

The Lord pressed his tongue into his cheek as he looked at you, “Well, I am sure you will find out in due time.” He smiled, eyes flicking from you to Aemond.

“Of course, but I’m asking you.” You smiled back falsely, reaching to take a sip from your wine primly.

Jason laughed, and some of the other Lords laughed awkwardly with him, sensing the tension, “My wife,” He began, looking around the table, “Has a terrible craving for fried trout, and will burst to tears if she is without it. It goes without saying, her hysteria can be quite jarring.”

“Interesting.” You mused, placing the wine back down, “Perhaps she is not being adequately satisfied with other smaller meats.” You grinned. Aemond hummed in amusement beside you.

Aegon bellowed, large hand slapping against the wood of the table jolting goblets and cutlery. The other Lord’s joined in with their King, seeing permission to laugh at your snide remark. Even Jason himself huffed out a laugh, though the smile did not reach his eyes, and his jaw was clenched tight.

“My niece everyone.” Aegon boomed, “The sharpest of tongues and the tightest of cunts.”

The room burst into laughter again, some more nervous than others. Otto did not laugh nor smile, and Alicent glared at her son. Aemond inhaled sharply beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Ser Cole shift.

"Aegon." Alicent warned beneath her breath, eyes darting from Aemond, to Ser Cole, and then back to Aegon.

“My brother is a lucky man.” Aegon hollered, raising his goblet up in mock toast.

Aemond did not move, eyeing his brother down, anger radiating from him.

It was perfect.

You lifted your goblet to Aegon, toasting to yourself, before taking a deep sip, turning your head to Aemond, smiling. With a soft hand, you grasped his on the table, squeezing it twice.

Aemond did not squeeze it back.

“That he is.” You smirked, head still turned to Aemond who slowly turned his gaze onto you.

He was furious.

Good.

“And how is your son, My Lord?” You asked across the table, looking at Jason Lannister who’s face beamed with pride, “The last I remember was you offering his hand to me, not too long ago.”

Aemond took his hand away from yours and moved it under the table, gripping your thigh.

“Loreon grows bigger by each day,” He grinned, “ A fine young Lord. He has his mothers eyes, but thankfully my hair. Can’t have a lion without its mane.” The Lord joked, and all chuckled with him. “Perhaps one day if you are to have a daughter, the Targaryen and Lannister Houses can be united.” He grinned.

When the world is on fire, and I am long gone.

The rest of the Lords moved to their own small conversations as you continued yours with Jason, feeling Aemond’s fingers dig meanly into the flesh of your thigh.

“Only if you were to build a Dragon Pit in Casterly rock. Our daughter will need to house her dragon there some day, and I expect I would come to visit.”

“You are welcome at the Golden Tooth whenever you please, Princess. We have the finest silk sheets, and the softest of beds.”

“I suppose I will have to see for myself if the riches of the Lannister House are truly what they are said to be.”

“If it is anything like the beauty of the Targaryen House is said to be, then you will find that the riches are just as spoken of.” He boasted and flirted.

You had to bite your inner cheek from gasping as you felt Aemond’s hand bruise your leg meanly, his nails biting into your skin.

“You’d best watch yourself, Jason.” Aegon smirked, “Aemond looks ready to summon Vhagar.”

Jason paled, “My apologies, Your Grace. There were no ill intentions.”

“My husband is a possessive man and protective.” You intoned, turning your head to face Aemond whose eye was locked on Jason again, "Issa iā orvorta, ñuha dōna. Ao gīmigon iksan aōhon.” He is a cunt, my sweet. You know I am yours, You cooed sickly sweet, hand coming to brush against Aemond’s cheek.

Aegon burst into childish giggles, throwing his crowned head backwards against the high seat of his chair. Aemond’s jaw clenched. Whilst Jason cocked his head, not sure of what you had said and turned to join conversation with the other Lords.

“Yn emā issare ñuhon tolī.” But you have been mine too, Aegon grinned, looking at you with bright violet eyes.

Your heart leapt in your throat, bile rising in your mouth.

“Daor ondoso iderennon.” Not by choice,You plastered a fake smile upon your lips, Aemond’s hand digging harder into your thigh as he straightened in his seat.

To anyone else at the table, it looked as though the three of you were having a lighthearted conversation in your mother tongue.

To the three of you, it was a stand off.

“Kostan tepagon ao iā iderennon.” I may give you a choice, Aegon smirked, sipping his ale, “Aemond kostagon urnēbagon lo ziry jeldan.” Aemond may even watch if he wishes.

“Aemond iksis ñuha iderennon.” Aemond is my choice, You purred, sipping your wine, mirroring the King. You felt Aemond’s hand on your thigh loosen.

Aegon rested his elbow upon the table lazily, sitting his chin in his palm as he looked at you both, “Sesīr hae ēza iā līve?” Even as he has a whore?

Anger bubbled up inside of you. You ground your teeth together and pushed out a false laugh, far too high to be believable, Alicent’s eyes darting to you with her brows drawn.

“Sesīr pār.” Even then.

“Lēkia, emā zirȳla orvorta qilōny.” Brother, you have her cock whipped, Aegon smirked.

Aemond hummed lowly, “Issa iā sȳz ābrazȳrys.” She is a good wife.

You almost beamed at the praise. You picked up your goblet to stop yourself from smiling, bringing the cup to your lips to sip at the honeyed Essos wine.

“Ivestragon nyke, qilōni's orvorta iksis rōvykta?” Tell me, who's cock is bigger? Aegon asked, and you spluttered your wine, inhaling it and coughing into your palm.

The urge to dive across the table and force a knife between his eyes grew larger.

You stayed quiet, sipping the wine again to settle the tickling burn in the back of your throat, and the rising anger that continued to mount within. Words fought in your chest to fly from your lips, but you swallowed them.

“Aōha lykemagon vestras nyke.” Your silence says me.

“Ñuha āeksio valzȳrys’.” My Lord Husbands, You smiled, wishing to sink your teeth into his throat, biting through the tendons and flesh, and ripping your head backwards, tearing the flesh away and watching his blood spurt out.

Aegon ignored his Small Council, Lords and Ladies who had travelled from all over the realm to dine with him, and enjoyed the small time given to direct snide remarks to Aemond without the chastising of his mother.

“Ao gīmigon lēkia, eman ryptan mirri sȳz udir hen Harrenhal.” You know brother, I have heard some good news from Harrenhal.

Aemond stilled.

The King grinned, teeth and gums being revealed by his lips pulling back, “Ēza Aemond ivestretan ao?” Has Aemond told you?

“Nyke gīmigon iksā nūmāzma naejot.” I know you’re about to, You snipped.

“Ah, ēza daor. Sȳrī,” Ah, he hasn’t. Well, Aegon smirked, leaning forward, “Gaomagon ao remember bona witch isse Harrenhal?” Do you remember that witch in Harrenhal? He tapped his chin in mock thought.

He knew who she was.

“Alys?” He continued.

Alicent’s head snapped to her son, eyes darting back and forth at the sound of her name. Your heart raced against your chest, heat rising to your cheeks.

How could you forget?

“Hen rhinka.” Of course, You said dully, swirling your wine in your hand as you tried to not give him any satisfaction as rage bubbled inside of you.

Not only at the King, but at your husband.

“Ñuha lēkia ēza issare working qopsa, pār emā daor given zirȳla iā dārilaros.” My brother has been working hard, since you have not given him an heir.

An heir.

“Aegon.” Aemond warned, jaw set in a stiff line.

“Skoros? Kostagon nyke daor biarvī manaeragon ñuha lēkia becoming vala? Iā kepa?” What? Can I not celebrate my brother becoming a man? A father?

Your blood ran cold, and fire licked at your face.

“Kepa?” Father? You seethed, teeth showing, smile faltering on your lips.

“Oh yes, Alys iksis lēda riña.” Alys is with child, Aegon grinned.

With child.

You saw red.

“Alys iksis lēda riña.” You parroted, tying to collect yourself as you thought of driving your fist into Aemond’s sapphire eye.

With child.

Alys was pregnant.

“Y/n-“ Aemond began.

“Aemond,” You interrupted him, turning your face to look at your husband, face cool, “Rijes aōt issi isse jorrāelatan. Kostilus, jikagon ñuha udir naejot aōha līve.” Congratulations are in order. Please send my word to your whore.

Aegon guffawed, eyes bouncing between the two of you. Aemond stared at you with a sallow face, your own carefully schooled.

You were enraged.

Your hand around your goblet tightened, nails reaching around the cool metal to dip into your palm as you desperately tried to use it to ground yourself.

“Bisa iksis daor skorkydoso-“ This is not ho-

“Valzȳrys,” Husband, You smiled joylessly, all teeth, “Ivestragī īlva daor ȳdragon hen aōha nādrēsy’s.” Let us not talk of your bastards.

“Kostilus īlon should maghagon-“ Perhaps we should bring-, Aegon began.

“Aōha Valyrīha jorrāelagon mirre.” Your Valyrian needs work, You snipped, mock toasting your wine to him again, small droplets falling from the rim to the table below at the force of your thrust, barely contained anger spilling over.

You let your eye trail over the King, his crown atop his head, wavy silver hair peaking beneath it, a small blush on his cheeks from the ale.

You were furious.

You were enraged.

You wished to hurt Aemond.

"Sir bona nyke pendagon hen ziry, iksā qumblie.” Now that I think of it, you are thicker, You mused, eyes quickly dropping to Aegon’s waist before back up at his face.

You reached to grasp the decanter from in front of you to refill your wine which disappeared at a rapid rate, and Aemond’s hand shot out, grasping your wrist tightly. The rest of the tables eyes flitted to the sharp movement. You snatched your hand away from him, not even sparing the man a glance as you continued to refill your wine.

"Konīr's bona ēngos,”There's that tongue, Aegon chuckled, smiling at you appreciatively, his eyes grazing down your body, "Nyke gīmigon iā sȳrkta gaomagon syt ziry.” I know a better use for it.

"Ȳdra daor.” Don’t, Aemond finally spoke, voice low and rough, hand returning to your thigh where he dug his fingers into it again, possessively and angrily.

Aegon giggled, excited that he had finally gotten Aemond to react, the unfinished fight between them simmering to almost a boiling point. “Nyke gōntan daor jiōragon naejot sylugon ziry.” I didn’t get to try it, Aegon pouted.

“Se kesā daor.” And you won’t, You purred, sipping your wine, “Yn ñuha valzȳrys gaomas.” But my husband does.

Aemond’s grip on your thigh tightened again, and you watched as he grabbed his goblet of wine and drank deeply from it.

"Kostilus kesan mirri tubis.” Perhaps I will some day, Aegon mused, pouting his lips at you as he fought off a grin.

You steeled yourself for what you were about to do, swallowing thickly as you looked Aegon in the eyes.

“Kostilus.” Perhaps.

The conversation had ended there, and Aegon had smirked, eyes half hooded as he looked at you. Alicent did not take her gaze from the three of you before you excused yourself, stating that you were tired and wished to leave your husband to his duties and fellow Lords for the rest of the evening.

You had pried Aemond’s hand from your thigh and bowed to Aegon and the other Lord’s, reminding Jason Lannister that he should begin preparing a Dragon Pit for Casterly Rock, to which he grinned in response. Aemond’s heated gaze followed you as you left the Great Hall, walking back to your chambers alone.

You arrived in your chambers and laughed loudly, furious at the news of Alys.

She was pregnant.

She was pregnant and he had not told you.

She was a greater risk to you now than before. You picked up a goblet at the side table and filled it with wine, already tipsy from the night, tossing its contents back down your throat.

But Aemond’s reaction at dinner was another thing all together.

It worked.

Your last lingering comment to Aegon, a small, ‘Perhaps', left the One-Eyed Prince reeling in his head, his hand not once undigging itself from your thighs. Even Jason Lannister unburdened flirting that evening had helped you along tremendously.

You had filled your goblet with wine once more, sitting in Aemond’s armchair, drinking slowly as you thought of the evening. Of the way his anger rose off of him in heated waves, the way he had become possessive of you with Jason. The way he scowled at his brother.

He was beginning to resent them all.

The door to the chambers slammed open, and the storming footfall of Aemond caused you to lazily turn your head to look at him.

He was irate.

“You seek to humiliate me in front of the council? In front of the King, flirting like a whore?” He sneered, marching over to you as he yanked you up from his chair, the goblet of wine tumbling from your fingers to the stone floor below, the red alcohol spilling across the tiles like blood.

“And what of you? What of your whoring? Your bastard is pregnant.” You retorted, lips pulling back to bare your teeth.

“She gave me an heir long before you did.”

You hand slapped across his cheek, Aemond’s head turning to the side.

“You disgust me.” You spat.

A shadow crossed Aemond’s face.

Your knees hit the harsh stone floors before your brain could catch up, Aemond’s large hands jarring you down by your shoulders. His eye crazed.

“You want to act like a whore, I will treat you like a whore.”

You tipped your chin up to look at him and smiled meanly, “Like Alys?”

“I told you, I did not see her.” He growled at you, hand gripping the side of your hair as he tugged your head.

“I don’t believe you.” You sneered.

Aemond’s hand moved to the front of his breeches and began to tug at the strings, impatiently ripping them open in front of your face.

A warmth spread within you.

He was so angry.

So on edge.

It had worked.

It was working.

Aemond finally undid the last of his ties and yanked his pants over his ass, pulling his cock out of the confines of his breeches. You looked up at him defiantly as he began to stroke himself in his hand, slowly getting hard.

“Having trouble?” You mocked, watching as he frowned down at you.

“Cunt.” He swore, before grabbing the back of your head roughly and tugging you towards his length.

“Open.” He barked, and you obeyed, keeping your eyes on him as he slid his length cruelly down the back of your throat in one rough push.

You gagged around him, tears prickling your eyes.

“Much better when you can’t talk.” He grunted, holding you down on him, the light curls at his base tickling your nose.

Aemond roughly pulled you back off of him by your hair, a spluttering cough escaping your lips as you sucked in a lungful of air.

“I should have his head for that. Who does he think he is?” Aemond growled, pulling you back on his length, saliva dripping from your lips onto the stone below.

Your knees ached as he began to thrust into your face harshly, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you breathed through your nose, tears dripping down your cheeks.

“Fucking Lannister scum. A Dragon Pit?” He grunted, using both hands to pull your mouth up and down his length, “He thinks he could fuck you? He thinks he could please you? Silk sheets? Is that what you want? You want fucking silk sheets?”

You gagged loudly as he pushed himself all the way in, holding your head down on him as he shook you with your hair, causing his cock to beat against your gag reflex.

“Stupid cunt. None of them could give you what I do. None of them could fuck you the way I do.” He continued, and you squirmed on the spot, bringing your hands up to his thighs to hold on for balance.

Aemond’s hands slapped yours away, “No. I didn’t say you could touch me.”

You dropped your arms, digging your fingers into your thighs as he continued.

“I am the only man for you. You are my wife.” Thrust.

“Mine.”

Thrust.

Warm heat settled in your gut as you hummed around him, curling your tongue up against the underside of his cock. Aemond moaned, letting go of one side of your head to brush hair away from your cheeks.

“Sȳz riña.” Good girl, He praised, framing your jaw with one hand, “Such a good little whore.”

Your core clenched around nothing and you shut your eyes, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache that steadily began to rise in you.

“Aegon is a cunt." The Prince growled, "A depraved, pathetic excuse for a man. Do you think he could please you?” He grunted.

You did not want to think of Aegon.

You squeezed your eyes tight.

“A useless King,” Aemond continued, thrusts becoming harsh again, “Can't even perform his own duties. Has me do them. Has me fly about the realm when he has Sunfyre and does not ride him.” Another growl, his length heavy on your tongue, you could feel every vein and ridge.

“Mother should have put me in line for the throne. We had to search the Silk Lanes for him when father died.” The wet sound of your mouth filled the room with Aemond’s complaints. “I hate him.”

I hate him.

Hate.

You sucked at Aemond’s length harder, a whine falling from this lips.

Rewarding him.

It spurred him on.

“He should beg for my mercy. Should have me rule.”

Delight sparked within you.

You curled your tongue up against the underside of his shaft, pressing the wet muscle against him as his thrusts became sloppier, thick strands of saliva hanging from your lips as he continued, the front of your dress and the stone floors below wet with it.

“Fucking pathetic.”

You hummed in agreement, opening your eyes to look up at him. Aemond looked down at you watching the way his cock disappeared into your lips. A groan falling from his mouth as you caught his gaze.

“He could never have you. He does not deserve you. He is not worthy.” His tip hit the back of your throat, “Not worthy of your perfect cunt.”

You moaned around his length.

“Not worthy of the throne.”

Thrust.

“Not worthy of life.”

Thrust.

You suck sharply on him as his thrusts grow sloppy, his mouth slackened as he breathed heavily, hands holding your head still as he chased his peak. You fought against your gags, tears moving down your face as you continued to squirm from your spot on the tiles.

It turned you on.

“Fuck.” Aemond moaned, pushing himself as deep as he could go.

His hot seed burst down your throat, causing you to cough and gag on his length as he moaned above you, holding you down on it with no escape. Each pump of his seed coating your mouth and tongue.

“Sīr sȳz syt nyke.” So good for me, “Vok byka ābrazȳrys.” Perfect little wife.

Aemond pulled himself from your lips, and a sharp inhale sucked air into your lungs as you coughed, swallowing what was left of his seed. The Prince’s hand moved to the side of your jaw stroking it as he looked down at you, thumb swiping up the seed that had escaped from the side of your mouth. Aemond rubbed it over your lips as he looked at you, your knees aching in protest.

“Filthy.” He purred.

Aemond bent down and pulled you up. The Prince took you to bed before hardening again, fucking his seed deep inside of you in the hour of the owl. You had whined and moaned, and he had fucked you roughly against the soft sheets, growling about his brother, about Jason, about the throne.

And you had encouraged it.

As the ebbs of your third release left your body, you found yourself boneless in the bed beneath Aemond, who crawled down the length of your body, planting insatiable kisses against your sensitive skin.

“I am falling to sleep.” You had argued, trying to pull him up and away from your core, where his tongue darted between your folds.

“Then sleep.” He uttered, “Let me enjoy the pleasures of my wife.”

His tongue was soft and gentle, pressing soothing kisses to your core as you felt your eyes flutter shut, fatigue dragging you down into the depths of sleep.

You woke some time later to the familiar stretch of Aemond’s cock moving through you. You had groaned, blinking in the dark up at Aemond he pushed himself inside of you.

“Wha-“

“Shh. Go back to sleep.”

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valaenatargaryensdragon · 7 months

Text

Mommy's Baby Girl

pairing: Fanon!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Female OC

summary: Alicent can go to hell, Donna was Rhaenyra's baby girl.

Word count: 2,1K

Warnings: Smut, strap on, mommy kink, overstimulation

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Donna sat alone in the dimly lit living room, her thoughts drifting like wayward whispers through her mind. The soft glow of the moonlight bathed her in an ethereal embrace, casting shadows that danced in harmony with the turmoil in her heart. It had been weeks since the family reunion, but the memory still lingered, heavy and haunting.

She couldn’t escape the nagging regret that gnawed at her from within. Her relationship with Rhaenyra Targaryen, the love of her life, was supposed to be a sanctuary of trust and affection. But the events of that weekend had planted a seed of doubt—a poison ivy of jealousy—that threatened to choke their love.

Donna’s gaze fixed on a framed photograph on the wall, a cherished snapshot of her and Rhaenyra on a sunny day at the beach. They were smiling, their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke of a deep, unspoken connection. Donna’s heart ached as she wondered if that connection had been strained, if their love was faltering. Then she decided to move to the bedroom, she was tired already from working all day.

The memory of the family reunion was a vivid one. It had been an occasion filled with laughter and reunions with distant relatives she had barely known. Yet, there was one distant relative, Alicent Hightower, who had captured her attention.

Alicent was charismatic, with a quick wit that drew people in like a moth to a flame. Donna had found herself gravitating toward her, engaging in conversations that stretched into the late hours of the night. It had all been so innocent, just family bonding, Donna told herself.

But as she lay there in the quiet of the night, she couldn’t shake the guilt that had burrowed into her soul. She remembered how Rhaenyra’s eyes had betrayed a flicker of unease when she had joined yet another conversation with Alicent at the reunion. It had been just a glance, a fleeting expression, but Donna had caught it.

She turned her head to the side, facing the empty space beside her in the bed. It had once been filled by Rhaenyra’s warmth, their entwined bodies finding solace in each other’s arms. But lately, that space remained vacant more often than not, as Rhaenyra withdrew into her own world.

Donna sighed, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she had unwittingly sown the seeds of jealousy in Rhaenyra’s heart. She wished she could turn back time and erase the hours spent with Alicent, the laughter shared, and the lingering glances that should have been meant only for Rhaenyra.

As the days turned into weeks, Donna’s internal struggle deepened. She found herself caught in a web of her own making, torn between the fond memories of her conversations with Alicent and the growing chasm that seemed to separate her from Rhaenyra.

Donna’s thoughts often drifted back to the moments she had shared with Alicent during the reunion. The way Alicent had laughed at her jokes, the way they had effortlessly found common interests, it had all been so intoxicatingly easy. But now, in the stillness of her solitude, Donna couldn’t help but question the cost of that ease.

She replayed the scenes in her mind—the late-night talks, the playful teasing, the lingering smiles. Each memory was a dagger of regret, twisting deeper into her heart. She had allowed herself to become captivated by the charming allure of Alicent, and in doing so, she had inadvertently wounded the heart of the woman she loved most.

Donna traced her fingers along the edge of her phone, hesitating to send a message to Rhaenyra, who was in another room. She wanted to apologize, to assure Rhaenyra that her heart was unwaveringly loyal, but the words eluded her. How could she convey the depth of her remorse without revealing the extent of her lapse in judgment?

She yearned for the days when her relationship with Rhaenyra had been unburdened by doubt, when their love had been a beacon of light in a world filled with uncertainty. Now, that light felt dimmed, as if a storm of jealousy threatened to extinguish it.

Donna's head snapped up at the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut. She wasn't worried about it waking any children who were having a sleepover at Rhaenys' house to be with Baela and Rhaena who were visiting from collage. She wanted to call to Rhaenyra but held herself back not wanting to anger the Targaryen woman.

Rhaenyra stalked into the room, face blank almost scaring Donna. Donna watched as Rhaenyra took off the suit jacket she had, she must have stayed late at work. Rhaenyra's eyes trailed over Donna's form laying in bed ready for sleep under the sheets, she was perched up on the bed hand folded neatly in her lap.

"That better be off when I am back" Rhaenyra walked over to Donna's side of the bed. She hooked a finger under the strap of Donna's chemise before letting it go making it snap back in place. Rhaenyra turned around and walked into their walk in closet.

Donna gulped not knowing what to do in this situation. Not wanting to anger Rhaenyra anymore she scrambled off the bed and slipped her chemise off her body. She was wearing only a pair of panties, she was about to go to bed, no need for more clothes.

"Good girl" Rhaenyra chuckled darkly as she walked back out of the closet.

Donna gasped shocked at the sight that greeted her, Rhaenyra in her naked glory standing in front of her with a strap she has never seen before on.

"Not so good though are you? Throwing yourself at Alicent like some whore" Rhaenyra stalked over to Donna in quick steps, she was so fast Donna had no time to back away. Rhaenyra grabbed Donna's hair making her whimper.

The mere rasp in Rhaenyra's voice made a fire to grow in the pit of Donna's stomach. She ached to touch Rhaenyra, it has been so long, way too long. Donna's eyes filled with tears-tears of need and want. Rhaenyra smirked at the sight and pushed Donna back to lay on her back.

"You need reminding baby girl, mommy needs to remind you who owns this wet, sweet and tasty cunny" Rhaenyra kneeled between Donna's legs. Pushed her knees apart she smirked at the sight that greeted her, the pink hole wetter than ever begging to be touched.

"Right baby girl?" Rhaenyra asked, her hand coming down quickly swatting her swollen pearl. Donna squeaked shocked, her legs automatically going to close but Rhaenyra did not let them.

"Mommy..." Donna whimpered, hips jerking up in the air with need. Rhaenyra chuckled evilly almost. She grabbed the base of the fake cock she had on her and ran it up and down Donna's slit.

"Use your words, baby girl" Rhaenyra tapped Donna's clit with the tip of the fake cock. The cock was beginning to glister with Donna's slick.

"Mommy I need you" Donna moaned. Rhaenyra smirked, leaning down to lay fully on top Donna. Donna looked up at her with wide teary eyes.

"Is that so?" Rhaenyra tilted her head to the side teasing the girl. She slapped the cock again on Donna's clit making her moan out loud.

"Yes mommy, I need you s-so much" Donna's leg widened desperate for some friction. Rhaenyra was glad that she had met Donna now, she was glad that she let Jace have his friends over so she could meet her.

"Alright baby, mommy will give you what you want" Rhaenyra plunged the cock inside of Donna with no more warning. Donna gasped shocked, her whole body froze for a second tensing at this weird intrusion.

"Mommy" Donna moaned shocked. Rhaenyra did not wait more to start moving. She was going to fuck the little brat a century forward in time.

"Do you reckon Alicent can fuck you like this?" Rhaenyra asked. Her hips snapping no rhythm but destroying Donna's pussy.

"Fuck... mommy" Donna's head fell back. Rhaenyra grabbed Donna's head and held her head in place.

"Look me in the eyes" Rhaenyra hissed angrily. Donna's walls squeezed the cock so tightly, Rhaenyra's thrusts stuttered for a second. Donna's eyes snapped open to look Rhaenyra's eyes, moaning at the sight of the dark Violet eyes glaring down at you.

"Will she fuck you this good?" Rhaenyra asked again. Her hand snapped down from your hair to grab your chin. Her hips never ceasing their movement for a second. Donna wanted to scream, she wanted to claw at anything, she was in heaven.

"N-no, only m-mommy" Donna stuttered. Her words were breathy showing just how needy she was. Her hips began moving in rhythm with Rhaenyra's thrusts.

"Let me hear you! let the neighbours hear you! let everyone hear you" Rhaenyra demanded. She pushed back up on her knees, she held up Donna's hips to angle them just right, her hips snapping in an unforgivable pace. Donna's eyes rolled back seeing stars. Rhaenyra's hand sneaked up to touch your clit, flicking it with each thrust.

"Only mommy! Mommy!" Donna's moaned loudly or more like screamed. Her walls clamped down on the fake cock, her body quivering as she came. Her hands bunched up the sheet tightly, almost ripping them with her nails.

"Good, cum on my cock. My cock not anyone else's" Rhaenyra smirked. Her thumb teasing your clit still, her hips moving in a calmer rhythm but not stopping. Donna rocked into her unable to stop.

"Mommy...please.... mommy..." Donna babbled, her head growing soft with each thrust. With each stroke of Rhaenyra's thumb Donna's world turned and turned.

"Yes darling? Rhaenyra leaned down again, this position making her go deeper again with her holding her thigh high on her waist while her other arm held her up. She kissed Donna straight on the lips, she tasted of toothpaste, so sweetly she still used a strawberry flavoured one.

"Mommy... sensitive" Donna cried. Her eyes opened, begging Rhaenyra for both more and for her to stop. Rhaenyra grinned moving to kiss Donna's neck knowing she cannot look her in the eyes without caving, not when Donna looked like this.

"Let mommy work" Rhaenyra bit Donna's earlobe. Donna gasped, back arching. Her cunt was in heaven, her stomach was in heaven, her whole body was in heave, her mind was in heave, she was simply in heaven in between Rhaenyra's arms and her cock inside of her.

"Mommy!" Donna couldn't hold the second orgasm that crashed into her. Rhaenyra grinned almost evilly.

Rhaenyra pulled out of Donna giving her a false hope that she was done. Donna let out a small shocked yell when Rhaenyra flipped her over and pulled her up on her knees and hands.

"Mommy...no" Donna begged. Her hips unconsciously pushing back in search of Rhaenyra. No did not mean No in their sexual life, they had another word but Donna's lips has never uttered that word before, keligon was not a word Donna has used yet. Halt.

"Shhh sweet baby, let mommy erase that witch's touch from you" Rhaenyra pushed back in. Moaning herself, she had been so focused on Donna she had not realised the cock rubbed her own clit with specific movement, that's how concentrated she was.

"Mommy...please" Donna cried. Her hips moving forward and back, fucking herself dumb on the plastic cock.

"Yes" Rhaenyra hissed, her head falling back with each snap of Donna's hips. Rhaenyra was so close already, pulling two orgasms from Donna riled her up and the friction as well made her want to stuff herself.

"Mommy, too much" Donna cried, she tried to pull away but Rhaenyra held her hips in place and began pounding in her again.

"Cumming baby girl, make mommy cum" Rhaenyra cocked. Donna was full on sobbing then, moving her hips in time to meet Rhaenyra's thrusts in the middle.

"That's it" Rhaenyra's hell fell back, mouth gaping she was so close. She was just never gonna let Donna go, her moan sounded too sweet, she looked too sweet, she would rather kill Alicent than let her have Donna ever.

"Mommy, sore" Donna whined. Her arms gave up on her, she fell face first on the bed. Her hips were held up by Rhaenyra who did not stop pounding into her red hole.

"Fucking hell" Rhaenyra wailed as her orgasm crashed down on her. Donna's cream came gushing out coating the plastic cock. Rhaenyra wanted to take a picture and save it forever. She pulled out the cock, Donna's whole body twitched with whimpers leaving her mouth at the movement. Rhaenyra smirked victoriously, she had Donna where she wanted her.

#house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #game of thrones #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra fanfiction #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra fanfic #rhaenyra imagine #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenyra smut #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #alicent hightower #house of the dragon smut #kinktober

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daemonsdivorcerock · 1 year

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THE RED QUEEN || d.targaryen

IN WHICH: six years after the driftmark incident, (name) and daemon targaryen receive word that lucerys velaryon’s claim to the driftmark throne is being challenge so they return to king’s landing to vouch for baela’s claim to the throne. to make things worse, viserys is dying and his last words are misinterpreted.

REQUESTED: yes/no

PAIRING: daemon targaryen x fem!targaryen reader

AUTHOR’S NOTES: part three in the shrew of king’s landing series!! reader is described as having silver hair. rhaenyra is kind of a bitch in this, love her tho.

WARNINGS: death, incest, targaryen!incest, angst, shenanigans, dysfunctional family, mentions of cousin marriage, otto hightower, usage of the word bastard, pregnancy, reader is pregnant again.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

THE SIX YEARS BETWEEN THE DRIFTMARK INCIDENT AND THE RETURN TO KING’S LANDING HAD PASSED BY RELATIVELY SLOWLY, that’s how it’d felt. Slow. The years had drolled on by, six of them in total.

The styled “Heir Who Never Was” found herself going through a series of recollection and deja vu as she took in the sight of her chambers. It was like she had never left. Her bed was made. The fireplace was roaring.

Everything was exactly where it had been the day he left. With the exception of rummaged clothes, shoes and books. It pained her to gaze upon her tragically empty bookshelf, which was her pride and joy before she claimed Meraxes from the Dragonpit.

Her household and supporters all adorned the deep shade of rouge, declaring their support to (Name)’s claim to the Iron Throne. She had gained some supporters in the Red Keep, including Otto Hightower, Alicent Hightower, Aegon Targaryen, Helaena Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen and Daeron Targaryen.

Rhaenyra had seldom supporters in the Red Keep. Dressed in a well-fitting crimson dress, (Name) rested her hands on her swollen stomach, round with her ninth child. Six years following the death of Laena Velaryon, a myriad of events had taken place.

Harwin and Lionel Strong had died when Harrenhal caught fire. Corlys Velaryon had an accident at sea and was presumed missing. Rhaenys Velaryon was raising Baela and Rhaena to lead Driftmark. Laenor Velaryon had died. Escaped, some said. (Name) did not blame him.

Daenerys had wed Aegon, bearing him two children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aemond had wed Rhaenys and the two had a daughter, Alysanne. Helaena was happily married to the son of minor Lord.

There was talks that Aemma and Daeron would be betrothed. Then again, there was also talks that Aemma would be betrothed to Lucerys Velaryon. The Reds had been summoned to Court to deal with the matter of the Driftmark Succession.

It was elementary. Baela should inherit the Driftwood Throne. She was Corlys’ eldest legitimate grandchild. It made sense. Lucerys Velaryon, despite bearing the Velaryon name, had no right to the throne. Anyone with a brain could see that. Anyone except her father.

She glanced over at Daenerys, Rhaenys and Helaena sitting talking, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Alysanne playing on the floor with (Name)’s youngest children, Aegon the Younger and Viserys.

Daemon sat on an armchair by the fire, with Rhaella on his lap. Rumours were flying that Rhaella would be betrothed to Joffrey Velaryon. Over my dead body, is what crossed (Name)’s body.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

The Reds and Blacks were assembled in the throne room, like characters on the chessboard. Each side shot glances at each other. Vaemond Velaryon was arguing how he should be considered as heir to the Driftwood Throne.

“I shall say it if nobody else will,” Vaemond spoke, glaring daggers at Rhaenyra, “Her children are…BASTARDS! And she is a whore,”.

The room was stunned with silence, briefs whispers darting to and fro. In his weakened state, Viserys unsheathed the same Valyrian Steel Dagger that had scarred (Name)’s face all those years ago. She felt an odd chill running down her spine.

“I’ll have your tongue for that!” Viserys had growled, before a slow clapping at filled the room. All eyes darted to the figure of (Name), who slowly clapped with a mischievous smile on her face.

She laughed briefly. “Thank you, Vaemond,” (Name) uttered, walking forwards, “What? Oh, Father, do not look at me like that. Somebody had to say it. If you cannot accept the truth, then I shall have to convey it to you. Rhaenyra’s children are illegitimate. I am sorry. Everybody knows. The whole fucking Seven Kingdoms knows. Laenor Velaryon did not father those children, Harwin Strong did. Your blatant favouritism towards Rhaenyra has gone on for long enough. Seven Hells, I have had enough!”.

“If Mother was alive to hear you saying such slanders-“ Rhaenyra began.

“If Mother was alive, Rhaenyra,” (Name) icily spoke, glaring at her sister, “Then she would agree with me! Those boys are barely Targaryens, half at most. And you have no fucking right to sully her name like that. Where were you when she passed? I shall tell you where I was. I was by her side, holding her hand as the Maester cut her open. I heard her screams. When our father decided that two daughters wasn’t enough, and that a child that barely lived a day was worth that more than the woman he loved! You have played this charade from long enough, the boys know the truth. We all do. It is time to stop lying,”.

The court room was immersed in whispers. “What will you do now, father?” (Name) whispered harshly, glaring at him, “Banish me? Exile me from Westeros? Execute me? Do your worst. As long as my bloodline endures, you will never be rid of the Shrew of King’s Landing,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

The family supper was tense. Aemond had called Jace, Luke and Joffrey “strong boys”, making (Name) snort with laughter. Vaemond Velaryon had been executed. After the Driftmark issue was settled, in which Baela was named heir, (Name) had decided to leave King’s Landing with Daemon and her family, to live in Volantis, with her great aunt, Saera.

She decided to visit her father that evening, a final goodbye. He had been rushed out of the supper, due to his illness. She and Rhaenyra had played civil for their father. She entered his chambers shortly after the Hour of the Owl.

“Father?” She whispered, looking through the billowing white drapes on her father’s bed. He looked terrible. The room smelled pungent, the scent of rotting flesh invaded her nostrils, almost making her vomit.

Viserys’ breathing was raspy and laboured. He would not make it through the night. She knew this. Rhaenyra and her sons has returned to Dragonstone during the evening, shortly after dinner.

“The Song of Ice and Fire…” Viserys murmured, tiredly, “The Princess that was Promised…I was wrong. I should have named you my heir…(Name)…I am so sorry for how I wronged you, my daughter…Aegon’s prophecy. I am coming now, Aemma…”.

With a final breath, Viserys’ body stilled and breathing stopped. (Name) felt tears spilling for her father. She had witnessed her mother’s death in childbirth and now her father’s passing in the night. It stunned her momentarily. She was in shock.

The King was dead.

#house of the dragon #hotd #asoiaf #fanfic #daemon x y/n #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #a song of ice and fire #matt smith #daemon targaryen x y/n #the shrew of king’s landing

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

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A Companion (Otto Hightower x Reader) - Prologue

I've finally jumped on the Peepaw Hightower writing train, instead of just enjoying the fics of others! What can I say, I love that old man.

So this is gonna be like a mini-series, I think? I don't really have a definite plan, but there's definitely a decent plot planned out.

Without further ado, here's the summary and a little prologue!

Summary: At the suggestion of Princess Rhaenyra, King Viserys Targaryen had commanded that his Hand, Otto Hightower, find a new bride. Preferably at the King's own wedding to Otto's daughter Alicent. While the Princess intended the suggestion as a form of revenge for Otto's machinations which led to the royal engagement, he intends to make the best of it. While he has always known that his late wife, Madelyn, is the great love of his life, he welcomes the idea of finding a tolerable companion. What he doesn't expect is you, a lady widowed far too young, who begins to spark feelings within him he thought long extinguished.

Prologue under the cut!

Prologue

The sight of Princess Rhaenyra in the Small Council chamber came as quite a surprise to Otto Hightower. In the weeks since her father announced his pending marriage, her attendance as the King’s Cupbearer had become sporadic at best. While her presence was surprising, it was nothing unusual enough to prompt any concern.

However, the twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she took the seat across from him began a knot of worry in Otto’s chest.

“Will Lord Strong and the other members of the Small Council not be joining us this afternoon, my King?” he asked as he took his seat.

Viserys smiled, a similar note of mischief in his eyes that Otto had not seen in decades – since they were both young men. “Not today, old friend. I’ve not called you here on any official business.”

“This is a personal matter,” Rhaenyra chimed in, her voice light and airy with glee. Any resemblance between her and her father was long gone. Now, she was undoubtedly Prince Daemon’s niece, much to Otto’s eternal unease and frustration.

Had Alicent also been present, it would have been easy to assume he was called to discuss some detail of the marriage contract. But she was not, and this was starting to feel decidedly like an ambush.

“It has been nearly two years now since Madelyn left us,” Viserys began. “And you have not remarried.”

“Your Grace, that is because I have no reason to remarry,” Otto replied, keeping his voice soft and diplomatic even as he began to feel a wave of anger rising within him. The suggestion in the king’s words was clear. “I have an heir in Gwayne, though what he will inherit is small. And I have no desire for a new wife.”

It was more than true. At Madelyn’s funeral, he had said farewell to the great love of his life. She had been a gift from the gods, a blessing he could never understand why he deserved. Surely to seek to replace her would be an affront to that blessing.

“But you are the Hand of the King,” Rhaenyra looked downright impish now. “For you to remain a widower after so long, when you are still relatively young, projects weakness, does it not? A strategic marriage could strengthen the realm.”

Damn the girl, even if it was treason to think it. Were she not so impulsive and stubborn, he would have no doubts about her one day becoming Queen. But this…? This was childish and petty, to throw his own words back at him. Where had she even heard them?

“And since your duties do not allow you to travel the realm to find a bride,” Rhaenyra continued, “the royal wedding will be the perfect opportunity for you to find a suitable young lady. Don’t you agree, my Lord Hand?”

This was revenge, then, Otto realized, for Alicent. Well, at least she was taking her anger out on him rather than his daughter.

He turned back to Viserys. “What is your opinion on the matter, my King?”

The king, at least, looked at him with enough fondness to quell his rising anger. “Aemma was the love of my life, Otto. But I am fond of Alicent and know she will make me happy. I would wish the same for you.” He looked to Rhaenyra, who was grinning with unabashed triumph, then back again. “I know your children would not wish to see you alone for the rest of your life.”

Otto’s greatest weakness was his affection for his children and king. And Rhaenyra had manipulated it perfectly. He could not deny Viserys this request – not after having guided his hand when it came to Alicent.

And though the thought of replacing Madelyn was abhorrent, when he truly considered it, he could not deny that he had missed the pleasure of… companionship. With Gwayne so often in Oldtown or elsewhere for tourneys and Alicent soon to be busy with her duties as Queen, Otto would be quite alone.

Though he often wished for solitude when his duties threatened to overwhelm him, the thought of being alone, with no one to greet him at the end of the day or to share his meals… was decidedly unpleasant.

So, Otto turned back to Rhaenyra, holding her gaze with the confidence of his determination to not allow this to be revenge but, hopefully, another blessing. At the very least, he would find someone with whom he could have a pleasant life.

“Then, Princess, I believe it is a wonderful idea, and I thank you for its suggestion.”

#otto hightower #otto hightower fanfiction #otto hightower fanfic #otto hightower x reader #otto hightower x you #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fic #rhys ifans #hotd otto #house of the dragon otto #A Companion

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biblioklept-writes · 1 year

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Secrets and Lies - I (Mafia!Targaryens)

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates! I hope you have wonderful holidays <3

Summary: Everyone knows that the Targaryens practically run the criminal underworld of Westeros from it's capital, King's Landing's heart - the Bel Air of Westeros: the Red Keep. You are now a part of this Mafioso life, whether you like it or not - but you think you do because the only way to get revenge is to stay in.

Word Count: 10.2K (I really outdid myself)

A/N: This is raw work - there might be errors left but I still have one final left😭 The characters are a OOC to fit my narrative. Also, platonic Aegon x Reader, Helaena x Reader, Daeron x Reader. My love for team green does show up heavily, so if that's not your thing I'd prefer if you don't comment on it. Please take the warnings a little seriously.

This will have an eventual part two. Until then, you can find a list of my House of the Dragon works here.

Warnings: There is talk of human trafficking, minor abuse, allusions to rape and sexual assault, trauma and trigger response. This part has mild violence, nothing too graphic. Please scroll away if any of this might trigger you.

The terror of the Targaryen family was known all over Westeros and Essos. They were considered the royalty of the underground business in the world, having connections and enemies in each city. They were claimed to be experts in the Mafia business, coming to rise more recently than the olden dominating families like the Hightowers, Tyrells and the Lannisters. But their reign of terror had been expansive and they now sat at the top - the wealthiest and the deadliest of them all even after generations had changed.

It wasn’t uncommon in the business to marry young people, but when Viserys Targaryen had married his daughter’s best friend after the death of his first wife during childbirth, more than a couple of eyebrows had been raised. Alicent Hightower still kept her name, now at the highest position that you could get. Rhaenyra Targaryen, the heiress, was displeased, so she went ahead to taint the family name by giving birth to three boys looking nothing like her husband - all three of them fathered by one of the low-power henchmen of her father’s, Harwin Strong.

She was still named Viserys’ heiress after Alicent had given him three sons and a daughter, even when the rest of the families did not approve of her less-than traditional ways. Viserys had a cousin, Daemon Targaryen, who was infamous for his cruelty in the seedy underbelly of the wealthy King’s Landing, the capital of Westeros practically run by the Mafia, and Rhaenyra married him in a secret ceremony after her husband and Daemon’s wife mysteriously died. Some even go as far as to say that not a leaf fell without their knowledge. And this centre is the headquarter of the Targaryen family, who had owned the lavish neighbourhood they had named the Red Keep. It was the Bel Air of King’s Landing, where only the rich could live.

Alicent Hightower had four children with Viserys - Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron Targaryen - all silver haired and purple eyed just like their father. Even his children from his young and beautiful wife didn’t stop him from favouring Rhaenyra, threatening to kill anyone who called her any sort of names. Some say she had had Daemon kill a man, one of their powerful relatives - Vaemond Velaryon - for calling her a whore. Though these were being dismissed as rumours, you had been in the room when Daemon had shot Vaemond in the back of his head.

You had been there when Viserys’ second son, Aemond Targaryen, lost his eye. Rhaenyra’s sons, Jace and Luke, had slashed his face in anger once he called them bastards. Aegon, Jace and Luke had been targeting Aemond relentlessly for being given the runt of the litter of puppies - a greyhound rather than a bloodhound as everyone traditionally got. The greyhound which he named Vhagar, was lithe but boney and weak-looking.

The trio had thought it was great to present Aemond with a pig to feed his weakling runt and himself, now being called a runt of the family. When Aemond finally retaliated, they took his eye, raised that way by their step-father.

Viserys, the senile old man, had demanded Aemond’s source of the bastardry claims instead of caring of his injury or reprimanding Luke or Rhaenyra. You had lurked in the shadows then, as you did now.

Shadows were your closest companion, after your german shepherd, Coco and your dearest laptops. Otto Hightower had taken you from one of the sex racquets run by the Boltons, impressed by your insistence to leave the place with him. Alicent then took you under her wing, raising you and Helaena like sisters since then. It had been so long ago, yet it had been only six years. University was a luxury to you, and you were grateful to Alicent for providing for you as she did for her children, even though you didn’t speak much with anyone except for little Daeron. He was your little brother and you would kill anyone who meant harm to him.

In university you took a more practical course of engineering in cyber security and taught yourself to hack into the best systems undetected. Alicent and Otto recognised your skill and kept that hidden from the rest of the Targaryen clan. In repayment for their efforts towards raising you, you spliced camera footage for them, breached into the CCTVs of their potential opposers. You had found some compromising proof for the rumours floating around about Daemon Targaryen, but you didn’t want such a powerful enemy right at the beginning of your mafia career.

In the evening, you trained with the bouncers and the guards, honing your fighting skills and learning tricks of the shadows. But you knew shadows, they had always been your companion especially when times had gotten rough.

You attended King’s Landing University with the rest of Alicent’s children - but only Aemond was in your year - and he majored in electrical engineering with a side of history, the ever geek - and you had a digital electronics class in common. Occasionally, you two spoke wandering about the campus because there were things you couldn’t talk about with the others. You had been there, hidden in the shadows as the medics opened the stitches of his eye, regretfully telling him that they couldn’t save it, for the cut had been too deep. You remembered that, there had been too much blood. You didn’t think a man could - should - bleed that much.

You weren’t friends, far from it. Maybe it could be termed as partnership - you trained together, shared the common interest in wicked weapons, and you taught him to quiet his steps, to become the shadows companion while he taught you tricks of light, commanding your presence, entrancing a room with the threat of explosion. You fought mercilessly too - more often than not ending up with cuts on your arms. Better to be injured in the presence of family than in an unknown place, Alicent had said on one such night. The mere thought that she considered a powerless orphan like you her family warmed your cold heart. A favour you returned by promising your skills to her sons, something no one else possessed in the mafia as of yet per your knowledge. And you had your revenge to take care of - Otto had promised you as much - leaving the Boltons for you to kill.

Aegon was two years senior than you, excelling in biochemistry with his specialisation in toxicology. He’d changed significantly in the six years when you first saw him - he’d finally opened his eyes to the reality that there was no one on his back save for his mother and siblings, not even his own father and especially not his nephews, his half-sister’s children. You supposed toxicology was a fit major for him with his wild drinking habits. As loud as he was inebriated, dull as a rope, when sober he could bring powerful men to their knees with mere words. Drunk or not, Aegon knew his poisons, and knew them well.

Helaena was your one year senior in Zoology, fitting with her collection of deadly pets besides the bloodhound, Dreamfyre - tarantulas, snakes, lizards with all sorts of wicked teeth and slow venoms - she knew the insects better than she knew people, and Helaena had the best instinct of them all.

Not-so-little Daeron was the speaker among the siblings. A master of words, he would twist your words and feed them back to you until you forgot what you said and go on with his suggestions. He was subtle in his art, and with the cute face with the big, innocent eyes he was the deadliest blade among them all. He wasn’t quick to anger and came out of every situation unscathed - even if he had set whole rooms on fire with the commotion he had set up with his words.

Luke was equal in age, and Daeron had the dark-haired bastard convinced that they were the best of friends, as if he didn’t hold a long grudge against him for taking his elder brother’s eye. He says he learnt the art of words from you and Aemond, which you find curious considering you are never spoken to by the socialites other than his siblings and Alicent, and Aemond is known for his silence. You wonder if it is one of his games, making you believe in a skill that you didn’t possess.

Even though you weren’t the siblings' friend, you wouldn’t hesitate to lose blood or your life for them, and you knew that they would kill for you. Whether they would lose blood over you was questionable, but they wouldn’t hesitate to spill someone else’s for your safety. They made you feel safe.

Currently you sit in the sun, looking at the logic gate circuit on your ipad screen as you scramble to find the correct answer. You know the answer is simple and you are just missing a bit, yet the answer logic evades you. Frustrated, you drop the pen beside you as you lean against the fence, closing your eyes for a moment.

The years of being shadow’s companion have forced you to rely on your senses other than vision, and your ears pick up the quiet sound of Aemond’s light footsteps and the leather and lime musk of his as he sits beside you. Your skin tingles as the invasion in your space as he twirls your pen between his fingers, letting out a sigh. “Anything that I may assist you with?” he asks.

“What do you want in return?” you ask, squinting to look at him.

“Nothing at the moment,” he rubs his hands on his black denim covered thighs. “Later though, I would like to invite you over for a chess match,”

You nod, handing over your ipad to him. You verbalise the question as he reads it, and abruptly remembering the missing bit, you snatch the ipad and the pen back and note it down. He smiles faintly at you, saying nothing. You wonder then, if Daeron learnt the power of silence from his brother.

“I suppose I can join you,” you say, happy that your problem is solved. “After we are finished with the evening training.”

Aemond nods in acknowledgement, then leaves turning back to salute at you as he leaves. His hair has grown long in the past year, falling well past his shoulders in silken silver threads, owing to the large hair care rack he had in his bedroom. You had only been there a couple of times after the eye incident, the one that had left him blind in one eye with a permanent long scar from the top of his brow to the bottom of his cheekbone. You had been to his floor in the main building multiple times for rounds of chess or just being quiet company to the siblings, adding in your two cents whenever you were questioned.

With the rising tensions in the family, Viserys had allowed Rhaenyra to live in the set of apartments on the far end of the Red Keep, while he kept the headquarter building for himself and in addition his young wife and her children, and you with Otto Hightower. He had given you a more than modest accommodation - a set of three rooms, a large bedroom with an attached bath and a mirrored glass set to appear opaque to the outside viewers, a general living area and study desk with a large television with every subscription imaginable, and a more inconspicuous room which held the actual prize - the four prized computers and two laptops that you had tested your hacking skills on.

His residence floor was less frequented by outsiders, by himself, and your accommodation was hidden by the bookshelves. Viserys knew you lived there in such a hidden manner and had assumed Otto to have the same depraved tastes as himself… which was disgusting, but helped you cover up nicely, considering Alicent signed the cheques for your college fees. No one on campus seems to know who you are or who is funding you, but don't dare ask - seeing Aemond, Aegon and Helaena around you more than once was enough.

After a round of rigorous training in stealth and aiming of blowpipes. You loved this particular style of weaponry - it was quiet, inconspicuous, and the needle got destroyed the moment it pierced skin, leaving no evidence - it forced you to be accurate. If your shot wasn’t true, you risked blowing up everything. The more you practised, the more effortless your aim became, and honestly, you were impressed with yourself. And now you want your efforts to pay off by helping Alicent and Otto Hightower.

It had been a while, Viserys health had been declining slowly - since before he had married Alicent, so you figured he’d been sick for far too long to have been poisoned by Aegon. Half of him had rotten - even with the treatment made available to him, his leprosy had taken his eye. You figured it was the universe’s way to make him pay; yet even that didn’t take his mind off Rhaenyra. It was during one of these days that Daemon had shot Vaemond, leaving the man with a perfect bullet-shaped hole in his head as his blood painted marble floor red.

Daemon was left unpunished for this crime, for he was only defending his young wife’s honour. Vaemond refused to give his nephew, Leanor’s seat to her bastard sons - that she had while being married to Leanor before he mysteriously disappeared - and proceeded to call her a whore, earning a 32 calibre revolver bullet through the back of his head. No one dared to call him out on it. Not even Viserys.

You were half tempted to kill Daemon with one of your poisoned pins, but you were yet to master the skill to perfection and he was a healthy man; him randomly dropping dead would raise more than eyebrows.

Perched atop the wooden log near the ceiling of the training room, you were cleaning your blowpipe when the door slid open and Aemond entered, having covered his sapphire eye with the eyepatch. You never knew why he chose that particular stone, but it looked good on him. You whistled as his pretty silver head turned away from you, and grinned when he spotted you.

“Hello, love,” you teased. “Looking for some company?”

“Get down, love,” He teased back. “You’re no company up there like a monkey,”

You threw your leg over the log and swiftly jumped down, softly landing on your toes. The twenty-something feet jump didn’t scare you, you had scaled far worse heights, and this was a piece of cake. He was dressed in his usual black turtleneck and trousers, this one with a little blue pin on it. His blazer hung on one shoulder, and he looked like he had had a long evening.

“What’s gotten you all knotted?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Him,” Aemond replies, running his hands through his hair, very uncharacteristic of him, and you are thoroughly worried.

“Is he dead?” You ask.

“Not yet,” He sighs, now having messed up his silken hair. “The doctor only gave him a dose for the pain - Aegon says we should just finish the job. Mum keeps stopping him, saying she still needs him.”

“He has a powerful name,” You placatingly say. “She is a smart woman, you should heed her advice. Perhaps there is something she is not telling even you.”

“They wouldn’t let her take his place,” He says, staring into your eyes. “Even though she is the one doing the actual work since he fell sick.”

“There’s no use pondering over something that we have no control over,” you say, hesitating a little before holding his arm. You caress it in a show of support, of comfort, unsure if you were crossing a boundary. He only sighs deeply, so you gently squeeze his arm. “Come on, it’s not worth wasting your mind over. Let’s go for a walk. I am sure Vhagar and Coco could use some time out.”

“Mmh,” he hums, walking out the training room, with you hot on his heels.

Vhagar is very glad to see you and Coco, smelling and licking your face when you bend over to greet her. “I’m happy to see you too buddy,” you say, voice higher than normal. “Good girl,” you say, scratching her head.

Coco, your german shepherd practically tackles Aemond in his eagerness to play, leaving brown and black hair all over his pristine clothes. “Beautiful Coco,” he coos, scratching Coco’s side and face as the dog proceeds to slather him in affection. “Who’s a good boy? That’s right Coco. Good boy,”

“Let’s go for a walk,” you tell the dogs, and neither of them can stop wagging their tails as they sniff each other up.

You are out in the giant lawn, with the dogs running around freely as you and Aemond walk barefoot on the grass to release the tension. “Something bothering you still?” you ask, looking straight ahead.

“He is going to die soon with her named as his heiress.” Aemond says. “And she will make our lives hell.”

“Well, she can’t poison you that’s for sure,” you say. “If she tries to put a bullet through any of you I will kill her.”

“You can kill her before she has time to blink.” Aemond adds. “But it’s not her that’s the problem. It’s my uncle.”

“I will not hesitate,” you promise, more to yourself than to him. You hate Daemon Targaryen with everything inside you. You are going to be his torturous death.

“I know,” He says.

You walk in silence for a long time, watching your dogs play in the grass, chasing each other, chasing you. You played with the dogs until it was time for dinner, you parted ways at Otto’s floor and you went to clean up after being covered in mud. You changed into black sweatsuit and went up to Alicent’s room. Lately, you had been joining them for dinner now that Viserys was sick.

The sound of your name makes you look up, Alicent’s big brown eyes looking at you expectantly. “Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

“I am afraid that diplomatic dinners aren’t an area of my expertise,” You say.

“The Boltons would be invited too,” Otto adds. Everyone at the table stilled, eyeing you and Otto.

“It’s okay,” you say.

The early hours of the night blended into midnight, as you sat cross legged in front of Aemond, studying the chessboard closely. Helaena braided her hair to your left, while Aegon and Daeron acted as referees, commenting about the game and distracting you. You made a mental note of applying this tactic in your training - you couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything.

With both of your queens dead, and only one rook, bishop and pawn left on your side and his two pawns, one knight and one bishop, the game came to a stalemate after about an hour and a half of playing.

“But both your kings are still there!” Daeron protests. “It was so interesting!”

“And one move and the kings are dead.” Aemond says. “This game is never about the king. There’s no use of a king who is dead.”

“Then why does the king have this much power?” Daeron asks.

“The King has no power.” You tell him. “His only aim is to stay alive. The most powerful piece in the game is the Queen.”

“Why is the Queen more powerful?” the Little Targaryen asks.

“Because the game setters were smart and knew who held actual power,” Aegon suddenly comments, rolling over to his back. “Unlike the people now,”

“When did you grow a brain?” Helaena asks, laughing.

“Mom wouldn’t let me poison him,” he says.

“Why can’t we get a will printed and get it signed by him?” Daeron suggests. “I’m not sure he has a week on him.”

“I’ll talk to mom about it,” Aemond says, his hair dishevelled. He calls your name, the sound smooth on his tongue. “Can you spy on our lovely half-sister for us?”

You nod, and Vhagar gets up from her place at the side of the bed and lays her head on Aemond’s lap, asking for pets. He absently scratched her head, saying, “I heard whispers of Daemon getting a new bloodhound,” he exhaled deeply, closing his eye. “Savage beast, called Vermithor. Already been in service for eight years.”

“Okay,” you say. Feeling eyes dancing between the two of you, you reach for the chess pieces and start to pack them up.

There is a knock at the door, and Daeron rushes to open the door, to reveal Criston Cole, Alicent Hightower’s personal bodyguard. Some even called him the shield to the Mafia Queen.

He was basically these kids’ father, teaching them everything they knew about the fights in the mob and how bad it truly gets. He had taught you too - to fight - first to defend, then to attack. He is dressed smartly, in a black shirt and grey trousers, and his curly hair is trimmed to stay off his eyes.

“Boss wants to see you,” Cole tells them. He always calls Alicent Boss, even though the title was reserved for Viserys. “Y/N, you come with me.”

While your friends go to see their mother, you leave the Red Keep with Criston in his Mercedes SUV, one of the finest cars you have seen. You had come to the Red Keep in a similar car, only it was more expensive being the Consigliere Hightower’s. He tells you that the “Boss” Viserys wants to have a celebratory dinner with his whole family - Rhaenyra and her whole family included - this saturday, two nights later.

“Boss wants you to be there,” Cole says. “She wants you to be a part of the family too, and needs you to dress formally for the occasion.”

You nod, acknowledging his words. Your cold heart flutters at the mere thought of Alicent thinking of you as family, you deeply loved and respected her.

You know Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra’s eldest bastard. You know that he is a freshman in King’s Landing University, majoring in communications. You have seen him driving his Porsche around campus and getting incredibly flustered around intimidating women, and you planned to meet him on campus today.

“I’ll be sure to make this dinner so entertaining,” You had told Aemond as the both of you drove to the campus in his Rolls Royce. Your car, a Range Rover courtesy of Otto Hightower, had gone into service, and seeing you at the morning class at the same time, you had decided to go with him. You had dressed a little differently than usual today, in black leather skirt and a matching red blouse. Aemond had laughed when he first saw you in a white skirt, saying you looked like a Christmas decoration. It was then you had changed into the black skirt, glaring at him the entire time.

He chuckled again, saying, “If you dress like you had in the morning, I am sure I’d be entertained.” but then turning serious, he asks, “What are you going to do?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” You say, playfully batting your eyelashes.

“Do you think they’ll agree?” He asks.

“Oh, I think they already have.” You say. “Alicent sent me to get fitted for a dress. It’s a big deal, Aemond. She’s presenting me as a part of the family.”

“You are a part of the family,” He insists. “I know we barely spoke during the awkward puberty phase - ”

“We started talking in college,” you said, shaking your head.

“But mother deeply cares for you,” he ignores your remark. “And so do we. When you first came Daeron suggested either Aegon or I should get married to you so you’d never leave.”

“What?” you laugh again, imagining the scene.

“It took a lot of convincing on Mum and Cole’s part to tell him that you were here to stay,” He confesses. “See, the point is, you are our friend and presenting you as family at the dinner is only natural.” He smirks a little as he glances at you once before refocusing on the road.

You part ways at the parking, with him going to the analog electronics lab while you head to the lecture hall. At break time, you went near the basketball court to sit and pretend to do your assignment. Discreetly keeping track of Jacaerys’ location on your phone, you stand up once he is too close and pretend to bump into him.

“I am so sorry!” you apologise in a shrill voice, as you bend over to gather your book and notebook. “I didn’t see.”

“I'm sorry too,” Jacaerys says, then stills as he takes in appearance. “Wow,” he mutters. “Sorry,” he says again, coy this time.

You smile at him after you put your stuff in your bag, then look at him again.

“I have never seen you around,” he decides.

“It’s a big campus,” you say. “Maybe you saw me and didn’t remember.”

“You aren’t forgettable,” He says, now holding out his hand. “I am Jacaerys Velaryon. You can call me Jace. Communications,”

“Y/N,” you tell him, shaking his hand. “Information Technology and Cyber Security,”

“That’s a mouthful,” he says, letting go of your hand.

“You don’t have to say it,” You say, getting around to leave.

“Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?” He asks.

“Maybe?” You say, turning back to him with a mysterious smile.

On your way back, Aemond asks, “How was your day, my little Christmas decoration?” and bursts out laughing. You smack him on his firm bicep, contempt filled in your glare.

“Was good until now,” you said, huffing.

That had been Thursday afternoon. Now it was Friday evening and you sat in the cafe, drinking your coffee as you finished the algorithms assignment. You knew Jacaerys is here after class, and you can see him quickly approaching on your screen, but you pretend that the notes you had made were interesting.

“Fancy seeing you here, miss Y/N,” Jacaerys says, sitting in the empty chair in front of you. “You are quite the sight,”

“I am here a lot of times,” You say. “You are a rare sight.”

You answer his questions, then pretending to run late for a class, you hurriedly leave, sighing. Communications majors spoke too much for your taste. (Sorry guys)

The first thing Aemond notices at the dinner table is that you’re missing. His mother asks him about your whereabouts, but he has no answer, because he hasn’t seen you since the morning. Everyone is there - his annoying nephews, his step sister, Daemon and his girls from his first wife. He hates it, hates this so much. Otto, Alicent and Rhaenyra sit in the middle of the table, with a chair between them for Viserys. Beside the empty chair, sits Rhaenyra and for once they are amicably speaking and he can see flashes of the infamous friendship.

He sits at one end of the table, the chair beside him empty. Daeron sits beside Otto, and in front of them sit Aegon and Helaena. Jace and his stepsisters sit in front of Viserys, Rhaenyra and Daemon. Luke and Joffrey sit on the opposite end of the table, facing Aemond. He despises it, wants to get up and leave at this instance, but he knows he cannot. He watches as the nurses help his father into his chair between Alicent and Rhaenyra, the old man’s blind side to him.

“My family,” he says with effort. “I am so happy to see you all here,” he looks over the table once, lingering on the empty chair beside Aemond. He looks at Otto and Alicent, inquiringly, “Where is she?”

“Cole has gone to fetch her,” Alicent adds. She seems displeased at Viserys’ interest in you, and Aemond doesn’t blame her. The siblings share a look as the food begins to be served. Servants line the table, turning up plates and cutting out pieces from the lamb served for dinner.

From his seat, the door to the dining hall is visible, and he abruptly stands up on seeing you with Cole. He thinks you look magnificent in the off-shoulder dark green dress you wear and the diamond earrings match you - you are a gem among stones.

Everyone turns in the direction of his movement, as he gently takes your hand and escorts you to the two empty chairs at the end of the table, pulling out the chair for you and helping you sit. He doesn’t know why he is doing this, but it feels natural. His siblings, mother and grandfather watch him with mild interest, while his step-sister’s family is unable to hide their surprise.

Jace’s shock and following disapproval is thinly veiled when you look at him. Aemond fights off a smirk and meets your eyes, lifting your hand again to plant a kiss on it. Alicent narrows her eyes at the action, but stays quiet. Jace almost drops his fork, earning curious glances from everyone.

Heartstopping, Aemond thinks the moment his lips touch your soft hand.

Viserys says your name, smiling at you with his rotten teeth. Aemond, Aegon and Helaena cannot help but glare daggers at him when he says, “It’s so good to have you amongst us, even if I am sure my Consigliere keeps you happy.”

The implication isn’t missed by those in attendance, earning more raised brows. Poor, pathetic Jace seems crushed, and Aemond finally understands the entertainment that you had promised him and he presses his curved lips together in a half smirk. He admires your profile as you shyly smile at Viserys, not saying anything. He motions the servants, and they quickly serve you.

Thank you, you mouth to him with a tiny smile before you start.

Rhaenyra and Daemon eye you with interest, trying to gauge your role in the family. You give them nothing, avoiding to utter any sound. The silence is tense and Aemond looks at Daeron and Otto, then at Helaena and Aegon, all of them quietly looking at their plates. On this side of Viserys, only Alicent is the one making any conversations, asking Rhaenyra about her health, the child she was about to have, about Jace, Luke and Joffrey, about Rhaena and Baela.

Aemond understood his mother’s diplomacy now, listening to how his step-sister gloated at the opportunity, going on and on about how brilliant her sons were, how Baela and Rhaena were the top of their class. Aemond listened carefully, trying to remember all the details she left. When the conversation turned boring - about Rhaenyra’s pregnancy, he tuned them out, instead asking the question that was itching the back of his brain.

Aemond turned to you, and you leaned toward him as he leaned closer to your ear, whispering so quietly that his curved lips barely moved, “Why were you so late?” he could smell your perfume, so you. It was a mild smell, but tingled his brain to the point that he couldn’t forget it.

You d0n’t say anything, but motioned at your beautiful dress. He frowns but he notices that your hand was hidden in a pocket, and your elegant hand slowly came out of it, revealing a wicked blade - it is small, hidden but dangerous. The smile on your face is just as wicked, if not worse so. It is tearing through his heart and making him bleed to himself, but he cannot do anything but let it cut through him.

No one makes a toast, except for Viserys’ ill-executed attempt at the beginning, which you had missed. The smug Luke - the teenage smugness not yet leaving him - stopped smirking at him once you were seated. You were clearly not a Targaryen and you weren’t a Hightower either, yet you were here sitting on the only-family dinner table beside him as Viserys made that lewd remark about you and his Grandfather. He ignores it, as he normally does, used to it by now.

When you had first come home with his grandfather, he had been so young - having just turned fourteen. You looked to be about the same age as him then and you barely spoke, the only times he had heard you speak was either with Otto or Alicent. He was so confused seeing you, this sad, angry looking mysterious girl who never talked to him, but was now staying in his house and occasionally joined his family for dinners. Then gradually, you started talking to Helaena and the little Daeron, who seemed to be the only one able to bring a smile to your melancholic eyes.

The first time you ever addressed him, you had asked, “Have you taken your pain killers?” Your voice had been gruff from disuse. He had nodded at your question, unable to keep his fine eye open for too long without tearing up. Then you had caressed his forehead, carefully avoiding the stitches that covered most of his face, your hands gentler than he had imagined. “It will take time to heal,” you said.

“I’ll be permanently scarred.” He had said through the pain.

“But the pain will go away with time.” your hand was still on his forehead, gently caressing. His muscles relaxed a little and the pain was soothed just a bit.

Any interaction that you had had following that had been just like that - quick and to the point. But you had stood there silently holding his hand when the doctors undid the stitches and he asked to have a sapphire put in his empty eye socket instead of the usual marble. You had helped the nurse bandaging his eyes with your delicate hands, careful of his good eye. For weeks you had left tiny notes on his door, reminding him to take his medicines and apply the ointments the doctor had given.

The first actual conversation you had was before the first day of university, back in the first semester, when you realised that you had more than a few subjects in common - Applied Maths, Physics and environmental science. You had a terrible cold with your running nose and were unfit to drive anywhere. Cole was busy, so he had offered to drive you to the doctor’s instead.

“Thank you,” you had said, cleaning your nose with the tissue. Two boxes lay on your lap - a clean tissue one and a dump. “You are wasting time with me when you have to prepare for uni.”

“That’s fine, I am sure KLU will be fine without me for one more day.” He had said, concerned at the way your nose was turning a carrot red like a reindeer. “You don’t look like you’d be though.”

You let out a wet sneeze into the tissue and dumped it, your bin-box filling more rapidly than he had imagined. It was difficult for you to explain to the doctor with your runny nose, so you mumbled something incoherent to the doctor and Aemond translated your words for him. The doctor gave him a course of antibiotics and paracetamol in case you got a fever during the night. You blew your nose once again, only to start sniffing. The doctor then advised you to drink a tea concoction and regularly steam yourself to free that nose blockade.

Aemond had ordered you to stay with him that entire day, bringing you hot water, soup and tea whenever the cold got bad. It was then that he had asked you about yourself - your favourite colour, the way you liked your tea, and that you preferred coffee in the late afternoon rather than a strong tea, and that you had started learning about computer systems and were learning seamless hacking. It was then he heard from where exactly Otto had picked you up, suddenly seeing his grandfather with new-found respect. He never got to know why he picked you up, only knowing the reason Viserys thought wasn’t true. He learned that you had first spilled someone’s blood at the tender age of twelve - when an insistent member of the mafioso wanted to bed you against your wishes with the money dropped at the Gentleman’s Club owner’s feet, but you simply refused to lay with the old man, going as far as hitting him with the metal lamp in the room till he passed out.

You spoon clunks loudly, and Aemond looks at you to find an expression so murderous it would terrify the ghosts back to their graves. You rapidly blinked, forcing yourself to stay calm, but there was too much tension in your posture. Your fist is clenched tightly on your lap, the skin stretched over your knuckles. He gently reaches for your clenched fist, and you startle, turning to him with glazed eyes. Even the way you gulp down the water is angry.

“I am not feeling well,” your voice is heard on the table for the first time. You brush off his hand, yours being cold and clammy and his concern sky-rockets. “Thank you for the dinner. Excuse me, please.”

“Oh, did something upset your stomach, sweet girl?” Alicent asks, big brown eyes filled with concern. “Drink loads of water before you sleep.”

“Maybe, I will.” You quickly say, and push away from the table. Aemond wants to run after you, leg itching to stand up.

Aegon, Helaena and Daeron pointedly look at him, and he finds the courage to get up. He calls out your name, but you are rushing out of the room, him hot at your heels. Something about it felt off, and he wonders what it exactly is that triggers your anger. He is chasing after you, even as you take the stairs instead of the lift, even as you hurriedly take off your heels at the second landing practically sprinting down the black marble staircase. And Aemond picks up his pace too, following you to your quarters, your back to him as your breaths become more violent.

“Y/N!” He calls, but you don’t answer, taking in furious breaths as you stare up at the ceiling. “What’s wrong?”

It's so quiet down here, he can clearly hear your panting breaths, the way you sniff loudly as if you are crying. His heart breaks when he hears you sob, reaching out to you by instinct as you begin to fall to your knees. He holds you as you start crying, both of you sitting on the cold marble floor, his arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you to his chest as you grab onto him like your life depends on it. He cannot see your tears, for your back is pressed against his chest, but his sleeve is soon wet with your tears and he cannot help but plant a light kiss to your forehead, hand running comforting circles on your hip as you continue wailing.

“I don’t know why!” you cry out through your tears. “I cannot sit at the same table as him. I cannot stand him! I hate him so much!”

“Who are you talking about darlin’,” Aemond softly asks, cheek resting on your head. “Should I bring out the revolver? Give me a name and I’ll put a bullet through their head. Make an example of what happens to people who make my girl cry.”

“I’ll do it.” you say, voice sharp even through the tears. “I want to crush his head with my bare hands. I want to suffocate him and make him suffer before I let him die.”

The hand not holding you comes up to your face, wiping away the tears staining your cheeks. Your shaking, eyes still pouring tears. “I’ll kill him so painfully,” you promise, but it is to yourself. “I’ll make his death so horrible that his coming generations will be terrified of me. I want to be their worst nightmare.”

“You certainly will be, darlin’,” He says, kissing the top of your head again. “You have to tell me though - ”

“I can still feel his hands on me!” You cry out again, turning in Aemond’s grasp to face him. Your hands on his thighs, and you look up at him with dark, tear filled eyes and tear stained cheeks. He hates that you look so broken, but a dark corner of his heart thinks you are so pretty, so pretty with tears in your eyes, he hates himself for it, but he is helpless. It just wants those tears to be that of pleasure, not this ache you are feeling. “Sometimes, when I sleep, I can still hear myself crying at him to stop, but he doesn’t. He never stopped.” Your voice is small, vulnerable.

Your hands now tightly grip his narrow waist, nails digging sharply into his flesh. “You can’t understand. I want to make him beg for me to kill him, to finally have mercy on him and let his pathetic life go.” You’re crying into Aemond’s chest now, his arms holding you as close as he can. His arms are wrapped around you in a tight hold, large hands on your sides leaving absent touches. “I want him to bleed as I once have.” Your words hold the promise of a cruel death, and it is music to him.

“Whoever it is that hurt you,” Aemond says, gently rocking you in his arms. “I’ll be right by you as you give them the punishment that they deserve for hurting my girl.”

“They deserve to be punished, don’t they?” your voice is small as you ask for assurance, but the sob that rocks through you is violent, and his grip tightens. “All of them - they were terrible!” you cry into him, and his shirt is wet with your tears, cold against his burning heart. “They took me from… I had a father and a mother…” you say, sounding like a lost little child. His heart breaks a little more as you speak, “I think… I think I had a baby brother. I think I did… I can’t remember! I cannot remember my family, it’s all their fault. They stole me from my home!” you wail.

Aegon is in your room, but you don’t look up, you can’t. You are unaware of your surroundings, except for the smell of leather and limes that envelopes you. Aemond discreetly shakes his head, and Aegon stops whatever words were forming on his tongue. He sits down next to both of you, enveloping you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. “You will have your revenge, sweet girl.” Aegon’s deep voice is comforting. “We will make sure that anyone who has ever hurt you pays.”

The older Targaryen smells of the wine you drink when you are glum and the combination of those comforting scents lulls you into a sleep-like trance. Your eyes are burning, and you tightly hold on to Aemond for any semblance of reality, but you are quickly falling away from it.

When you don’t show up to the training sessions the next morning, the four siblings are concerned. Rhaenyra and her family had been escorted out after the seemingly peaceful dinner, not allowed to stay after Otto and Alicent had learnt of your… outburst. They are worried for you, and Cole doesn’t stop his kids when they insist on checking up on you. He follows them up to your quarters, and the five of them find you curled up on your bed, shivering and burning up with a fever.

Cole immediately calls Alicent and rings up a doctor, your skin is dulled from the fever and you barely make any noise except grunts and groans of ache. Your face is puffy from the fever and your cheeks are stained with tears, lips chapped raw.

Alicent is very concerned, nibbling on her nails as the doctor examines you, her worry mirroring onto her children. “What happened to Y/N, Mum?” Little Daeron asks. “Did the dinner upset her?” While he wasn’t too young to understand what had happened to you, he certainly had been then, not understanding your strange melancholy and anger. But he had always been your little sunshine.

“Maybe, the doctor will tell you.” She speaks with a forced smile.

“She was crying so much, wailing.” Aemond tells her. “I don’t think it’s the food that upset her. Once she is good enough to talk I will take the names.”

“I cannot think of any punishment that would suit them.” Helaena says. “It would be too easy and honourable of death for them if we kill them.”

“Not the kind they deserve.” Aegon adds, his voice bitter. “Aemond is right. We need to make examples out of them. No one, no one hurts our precious Y/N.”

“She’s been promised the life of the Boltons.” Otto adds, having sat silently this whole time. “She will have her revenge once she is ready to take it.”

“My girl wants to terrorize them to the coming generations,” Aemond added, a sinister smirk turning his curved lips.

Helaena raises her brow at his endearment, but doesn’t comment on it, instead sighing, “She is going to raise hell,” she just says. “And look amazing while doing it.”

All of them rise together when the doctor exits her room, looking perplexed. “There is no sign of any infection,” he says. “Or any injury or any poison that could cause the fever. Perhaps it is exhaustion,” he thinks for a moment before adding, “It does seem like it’s a psychogenic fever. Something or someone triggered a stressful or traumatic event for her, and this is her body’s response.”

“Oh gods,” Alicent sighs, holding her hands together in front of her. “Will she be fine?”

“Maybe she just needs to sleep it off.” He says. “Do give her paracetamol when she wakes up, after she’s eaten something. You must speak with her about it.”

“Thank you so much, Doc.” Alicent says, and Cole leads the doctor back outside.

When you wake up, head spinning even as you lay on your bed, you groan softly at your stiff body, recognising your little sunshine even through the hazy vision. You croak out his name, tongue feeling swollen and a horrible taste in your mouth.

“I was so worried!” you hear Daeron say through a bubble of cotton, and reach out to him. “Everyone was so worried. You sure know how to give us all a scare!”

You tell him that your head is spinning, and he brings you water and props up your pillows to help you sit up, already having placed a chair for you to sit in front of the bathroom sink. The not-so-little little ball of sunshine helps you brush your teeth and scrape the horrid taste off your tongue, then washes your face and helps you back to your bed. You notice how much taller he has grown, for you can still remember when he barely reached your shoulders. Now you are leaning against him, and he is a head taller than you. He’s still shorter than Aemond and Aegon, closer in height to Aegon.

“Look at you, acting all like a grown-up man.” You sigh, feeling a lot better now that you have washed your face and rid the horrible taste.

“You had us on edge.” He complains. “The doctor came to see you, and he told us to keep you well fed and rested. Tell me, what bothered you so much that you feel sick?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, little boy.” You tell him, weakly pinching his cheek. He’s losing his baby face fast, slowly gaining his elder brothers’ signature cheekbones.

“Aemond said you were crying all night.” Daeron’s big violet eyes are full of concern, and you can feel a wave of sadness all over again. “I want to help you.”

“You can’t,” You sigh, falling against the pillows. “Only I can help myself.”

When you’ve eaten, taken the medicine and rested for a good couple of hours does Alicent permit the rest of her kids to see you, leading them all in. She sits beside you, checking you for any remnants of the fever, kissing your forehead in relief. Otto follows his daughter and grandkids, sitting on the armchair by the window.

Aemond sits by your feet, one of his large hands on your calf and the other one on his thigh. Looking at him, you want to cry all over again - he just looks so sad - you want to hold him and thank him and apologise and kiss him all over because he brought you so much comfort and safety.

Daeron is looking at you over his mother’s shoulder, smiling at you. You smile despite yourself, and resist the urge to pinch his rapidly disappearing baby cheeks. Helaena and Aegon sit on the other side of your legs, with Coco resting herself on Aegon’s lap as her head lay on Helaena’s. And your heart swells because you love this family so much, you cannot imagine yourself without them.

“How are you feeling?” Alicent asks, her voice soft as the hand caressing your head.

“Better now that I have been fed,” you chuckle, voice nasal. The crying last night didn’t help you at all. “But I have been better.”

“My sweet girl,” Alicent inhales deeply, finding the words to speak. “Tell me what torments your heart, and mind?”

You look away from her, focusing your gaze on the hand Aemond has on your calf, and he squeezes it reassuringly. You take a couple of deep breaths. “It’s nothing,” You say in the nasal voice, trying your best to sound detached. “Some horrid memories came back, and I was not strong enough to fight them.”

“It was Daemon, was it not?” Otto speaks, words falling over you like a wet blanket.

Your heart beats faster, threatening to burst out of your chest and you can feel your gaze harden against your will. You clench your fists, sharp nails digging into your palms, and Coco whimpers, sensing your discomfort. He rouses from Aegon’s lap to rest his head on your thighs, licking your hand. “Good boy, Coco,” you coo at him, caressing his head.

“Was he -” Otto starts, but you cut him off before he finishes that question. “Yes,” His face hardens, and you can see him for the Consigliere that he is. If he was your boss, you’d be terrified of crossing him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You say, sensing the tension in the room. “I have had enough of that as it is. I want to go out.” You look into everyone’s eyes pleading. “Please?” Your gaze lingers on Aemond longer than necessary, and blink away.

It is funny how all of them immediately responded by agreeing with you, and Helaena pushed all of her brothers out with Otto and Alicent and helped you dress up in a fresh sweatsuit and wrapped you in a fluffy muffler, going all the way of being the elder sister you never had. Satisfied with your clothes, she gets to untangle your hair as she asks, “What’s going on between you and Aemond?”

“Is something going on between me and Aemond?” You ask, confused.

“What was that whole stunt at dinner last night?” Helaena teased, and you can feel yourself getting hot all over again for a very different reason. “Let me be a gentleman and pull a chair out for you, kissing your hand, hm?”

“Oh, I was just trying to tease Jacaerys.” You grin. “Aemond getting sweet revenge from his little nephews.”

“And Jacaerys has a little-boy crush on you?” Helaena laughs.

“Oh, I think it's a lot more than a boy-crush,” You shudder, and she smacks you into stillness as she combs through your messy hair.

“Aegon and Aemond would have his hands before they let him touch you,” She says. “You should have seen how angry they were last night. I was too - you’re important for us, sweet Y/N - mother sees you as she sees us.”

“And I love her dearly,” You say. “You know I’d die to keep you safe.”

“I don’t think the world would be able to take it if you died.” Helaena says as she starts braiding your hair. “I know I wouldn’t, my brothers wouldn’t. Aemond would storm hell and fight Death to bring you back.”

“That’s a stretch,” You say, reaching for the tissue to blow your nose.

“I know my little brother well,” She pulls your head back by the hair, tapping two fingers on your forehead. “And I know you well too. Never lie to me again.”

“No lies have left my mouth,” you tell her.

“I am not going to correct you,” Helaena says. “You’ll have to figure it out,”

You roll your eyes at her, done with your hair. You put Coco in his harness and leash, and went down to find the silver-haired brothers waiting for you with their hounds. Helaena follows you with hers, Dreamfyre. Aegon’s bloodhound is called Sunfyre, and he has the most beautiful coat of all the dogs. Daeron named his Tessarion, after some myth you couldn’t quite recall - she was young, only three. All the five dogs are ecstatic to be together, with Coco almost flying off the harness as you yell at him to slow down.

“You look positively charming,” Aegon comments, taking Coco’s harness from you.

You thank him, arms around yourself as you start walking to the park. It is a lazy stroll, and you don’t speak, enjoying the subtle wind on your face and the quiet conversation the siblings fall into. This is peace, you think. This is what peace feels like. You gaze at the sky, a little annoyed by the building that occasionally blocked your view of the twilight sky, mind void of any thoughts.

Once at the park, the dogs are left to their fun, and you continue your lazy stroll, hands in the pockets of your sweatpants, warming up. Aegon jogs up to you, bumping his shoulder into yours, nearly shoving you to the ground. You shove him back, grunting, “You little shit,”

“There she is, my precious Y/N,” He says, laughing as he pulls you close by the shoulder. He is warm, and you appreciate his sweet-wine smell. “I do believe you are perfectly fine again.”

“I think so,” You mumble.

“You do know that you tell me if anyone hurts you?” Aegon says, sounding as serious as he gets. “I’d poison them without a second thought.”

“I’d prefer if you keep your toxicology prowess a secret,” You say, patting his chest. “If anyone dares to cross me, I can deal with them myself.” You look up at him, all serious, and ask, “Have you ever killed a man?”

“Not that I can think of,” He says. “I have seen men being killed though. Why do you ask? Have you?”

“Mmh,” you say, looking straight ahead, thinking of the day Otto had taken you with him. You had been a persistent pest in his hair, demanding to leave that hellhole with him. When the guards had tried to stop Otto, he had pulled out his trusty revolver, but the guards merely threw it away. The experienced Otto had fought them viciously, even barehanded - and you bit your captor’s arm, hard - till you tasted the gross tang of his blood, and lunged for the dropped revolver, shooting the four guards down with six bullets. You had missed two shots, but managed to hit the rest four in delicate organs - the head and the chest, watching in shock as they bled to death. Otto had then snatched you away from the bloody mess, your hands and teeth stained in blood. He had given you his handkerchief to clean your arms, and you could still see the bloody cloth clearly in your head.

“Where’re you lost, sailor?” Aegon’s deep voice sounds, his chest vibrating with his voice on your arm. “Thinking about your kills?”

“Yes,” you sigh, leaning into him. Your voice sounds nasal, and you hate yourself for it, but you cannot help it.

“Are you crying again, sweet girl?” His voice is gentle, as if he is talking to a little kid, and your eyes water up with hot tears again, even after draining your tear ducts last night. “Tell me what’s wrong, we can help you.”

Coco runs to you, forgetting his playmates on sensing your awful mood. He is by your side in an instant, licking your thigh over your sweatpant, and you are so grateful for him, you coo at him, telling him that you are fine, that he is such a good boy taking care of you. “Good boy Coco, I love you.”

You sit down in the middle of the field on the grass, with Coco resting on your lap, licking your hand and wrist. Aegon squats to your level, caressing your back as you fight back your tears. A tall shadow covers you, and your glistening eyes find Aemond looking down at you, concern filled in his one eye. The sapphire gleams in the moonlight, and you think he looks beautiful.

“Darlin’,” Aemond says, his voice music to your ears. He gets down on his knees, still towering over you and you want to throw yourself to him but you are paralyzed - unable to get your body to move. Coco gets up from your lap, whimpering at Aemond. “You’re safe now,” he says, his cold, large hand resting on your warm cheek. “You’re with us now, no one can harm a hair on your head.”

You lean into his touch, the comfort and safety he brought you, and all you can think is of how you want to thank him, apologise to him and kiss him all over because he has started to feel like home, that he has now become a part of you than just your friend and college going companion. Your breaths are violent and stuttering and your eyes burn, but you swallow your tears down, Aemond’s cold hand on your cheek and Aegon’s comforting rubs on your back grounding you to reality.

“I am fine now,” You manage after a moment, voice stiller than you felt. You inhaled deeply once, twice, clearing your blocked nose a little. “I’m fine,”

“No you’re not,” Aemond decides, sitting down with his legs crossed in front of you. Your gaze is fixed on Coco’s brown paws, and you don’t see the look the brothers share before Aegon kisses the top of your head and leaves. “You’ve got to tell me what’s been bothering you, darlin’, I’ll find a way to make it better.”

“Revenge will make me feel better.” You say, sorrow replaced with anger. “I want blood.”

“You will have blood, of each and every one of them,” Aemond promised, hand under your chin, making you look into his dark gaze, his one eye focused on you. The sapphire in his eye socket gleams wickedly, and your hand reaches to caress the scar running on his beautiful face. He flinches at the contact, eye closing momentarily before it tracks your movement.

His face is cold to the touch, and you wonder if the cold hurts him like it did six years ago. You’re on your knees and toes, leaning forward to him, the scarred side of his face and your dry lips touch the bottom of his scar, onto the hollow of his cheek. “Thank you,” you whisper against his cheek, eyes fixated on the curvature of his parted mouth. You’re close enough to him that you can feel the heat of his breath on your neck, and you want to kiss him. You know you will regret it later, but you want to touch his pretty lips with yours. You wonder how his mouth will feel against yours, would it be teasing and gentle like his words or intense like his gaze. You don’t realise that you are reaching forward, not until his hands firmly grab your shoulders, holding you in place. You’re so close - you can feel his breath on your mouth, and it smells of citrus, like an orange or lime.

“I’ll let you kiss me when you are thinking of kissing me,” His voice is low, reverberating. “Not when you are thinking of your pain. Talk to me, my love. Tell me what has been bothering my girl. Then I’ll kiss you - if you’ll have all of me. But I’ll only kiss you when you want to kiss me, not looking for a distraction. Okay?”

“Mhm hmm,” You say, not looking away from him. You let yourself fall into his arms, and he is there to catch you, holding you against his chest as you close your eyes, feeling safe. There is a safety that being in his warm embrace brings which you don’t feel anywhere, not even with your computers. You are content with the silence, the rise and fall of his chest against your back, the press of his mouth on the top of your head, and your mumble, “Will you carry me home if I fall asleep?”

“Of course, darlin’,” He whispers, but it is carried away by the wind that lulls you into a heavy slumber.

Tags: @dollfaceyourfear @ladymoon666 @chainsawsangel @esmaada @amadwomanrambles @devils-blackrose @darthgamer74

Edit: I am so sorry i forgot to add you two here!

@p0rnstargirl @aerysa-targaryen

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen x reader #daeron targaryen x reader #mafia!targaryens #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen

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tinfairies · 2 years

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I saw that you are accepting requests. I totally think aemond would go behind his relatives' backs to get what he wants. So you can do aemond x aunt hightower (the reader is married to alicent's brother gwayne hightower), and she becomes aemond's lover...?

Aemond Targaryen x Aunt!Reader

(we will pretend that Otto passes away sooner in the timeline)

The funeral was small, family and close friends only. Alicent refused to make a spectacle of her father's passing, even if he was Hand of the King. Few words were said and the only one that truly cried was Alicent's only daughter Helaena. Quick and quiet was Otto's funeral, not for lack of respect, but to not show weakness to Rhaenyra and her family. Alicent's older brother, Gwayne, had come for the funeral. She knew that a new Hand must be appointed, lest it be filled with a spy of Rhaenyra's. She had gone to her brother and begged him, she couldn't bare to have a weak spot in her position.

"Please, Oldtown will do just fine under our cousins rule. You are the only one fit to be placed as Hand." Alicent held his hands in hers, pleading. Gwayne sighed, he knew how fragile the throne was right now. "I can bring my wife, and son?" he asked. "Absolutely!" Alicent beamed, knowing this news would mean he would accept.

Weeks later, Lord and Lady Hightower moved into the Tower of the Hand. Gwayne was busy with his work and had been all but neglecting his wife. She knew how important his work was but she couldn't help but feel ignored and lonely. She enjoyed the time she spent with her niece, Helaena. Her hobby was quite peculiar, but as long as she was happy. Her eldest nephew Aegon was certainly a piece of work, they hardly spoke aside from formalities, and he was hardly ever present unless called upon by his mother. Her second nephew though, was an enigma. The lady could never tell how he felt about her, he was always around though never seemed hostile. Maybe Aemond didnt trust her? She didn't think he'd have a reason not to, she is his uncles wife after all.

Everywhere the Lady went, Aemond was not far behind. Sometimes she would notice him and sometimes she would not. The lady became accustomed to her personal body guard, he was quite handsome after all; though she would never admit that out loud. She felt uneasy, as if she's betraying her husband. Her nephew is much younger than her, most of all he is her nephew. The lady knew that the Targaryen's often married relatives, keeping the bloodline pure is a big part of Valerion culture. Her faith of The Seven frowned upon incest, it is punishable by death. Still she couldn't help but smile when she saw her nephew, Aemond was something like she had never seen. Looks completely foreign to her, eyes of violet, silver hair; Even his unfortunate scar made him all the more enticing.

Months Aemond had spent in her company, joining her for walks, or late nights in the library. They spoke often about everything and nothing all at once. She would read him tales of old Valyria, and in turn he would share is stories of battles. Always laughing and smiling with one another, feeling began to blossom in the Lady's heart. Her eyes always wandered over his features when she thought he was not looking. Aemond had noticed the way she looked at him, he may be without an eye but that just made him all the more observant. He had been infatuated with his Lady Aunt every since she arrived in King's Landing, her beauty took his breath away. He had to have her.

One night while reading together in the library, Aemond finally allowed himself to be caught staring at her. The Lady's eyes quickly darted back to the book, her cheeks getting hot. "May ask you question?" Aemond asked, never taking his eyes away from her. The Lady nodded, curious as to what he could possibly ask, perhaps it was innocent and her feelings were one sided after all. "Are you happy with your husband?" her stomach dropped and she began to stumble over her words. Aemond was beginning to worry that he may have misread her after all. "Well, I-I wouldn't say I'm unhappy. We've been married so long it feels more like an obligation than a partnership." the Lady rushed her words out, not wanting to speak ill of her husband who had only ever been kind to her. Though as kind as he was, she couldn't say she loved him. " I only ask because it seems you spend more time with me than with him." Aemond's words had meant to be a jab at his uncle. "I don't hate him if that's what you're asking." the Lady seemed defensive, she didn't want more turmoil brought into the castle. "I didn't ask your opinion. I asked if you were happy." Aemond placed a hand on her knee. She was tense, she looked at his hand on her lap then back to Aemond's face. "I could be happier." she said in almost a whisper. Aemond got closer to her. " Could I help with that?" their faces less than a foot from each other now. The Lady closed the space between them, her lips gently pressed against his. Aemond eagerly responded, the hand on her knee rising to cup her jaw. For every deep kiss he gave her, she placed a smaller more gentler one; like a signiture. Signing him like he was hers, Aemond would happily be hers for all eternity.

"Yes you can very much help with that."

#hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #House of the dragon imagine #Aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #Hotd #house of the dragon #Game of thrones #Game of thrones x reader #Game of thrones imagine #Aemond's social media handle would be 'milf-hunter3000'#smut #blurb

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robbsstar · 10 months

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Hi love! I would have a request for you if you are so kind to give it a try : Aemond x reader with Oleanna Tyrell vibes (very cunning, outspoken and bold). I somehow imagine her as being a couple years older than him, long blood red hair and has a dark vibe to her. She challenges him but she is also a big softie inside capable of the biggest love ever. I really feel like he needs this kind of woman in his life like air :))) And would also be someone to keep him on his toes at all times and rock his world up a bit. Please feel free to adapt this idea however you see fit and thank you million times for giving me the opportunity to request. Can't wait to read more from you, you are super talented and we need more of you ^^

Of course<3 I do want to apologize if I went more for the 'plot' than relationship. Allergies are mentioned lets all pretend it exist in their universe as I'm not really sure whoops.

an unfortunate accident- 4.9k words

pairing / summary / warnings ->

-> Aemond Targaryen x Reader -> You deal with the enemy while being married to Aemond -> slight misogyny towards Rhaenyra, Otto, desrcibtion of death, Aegon, slight swearing but not much

masterlist <-

Due to Alicent's mistrust of anybody who is not related to her, Helaena and Aegon were wed. The Queen consort convinced herself she could only trust those she lived with, her family. She disregarded the woman her crafty father, Hightower, had been offering for Aemond. It was you. He did so to build a stronger house, stronger alliances, or, in his opinion, a greater war opponent against the blacks.

But when it was time for her second born to marry, the stressed mother had little option but to listen to her father this time because she didn't have another daughter. Otto Hightower persuaded his daughter to take into account the Hightower's distant cousins.

Your house was the one. Just as savvy, as wily in their schemes, and as brilliant as the Hightowers. There was just one distinction between the two houses. One House plotted behind closed doors, while the other could not be bothered. Yours was the latter. They caused Otto some resentment, and he was embarrassed to refer to your family as a relative of his. However, he was left with no option because there were no better-bred women in the seven kingdoms. An ideal wife for his grandson, is difficult to manage but not necessary because the two families shared the same notion of the iron throne, a male leader, and no woman.

Your father and Otto Hightower were made of the same ancestors. So it was no wonder they strived for power.

Your father, like Otto Hightower, did not want to serve a woman, a lady who also bore bastards. Your father referred to them as brown-haired, illegitimate whore sons. In their youth, he and Otto had plans to marry their offspring in order for their blood to inherit the throne and power. Your father, not your mother, reared you throughout your entire life. Your mother was a gentle, intelligent, but sensitive woman. Therefore, your father decided to take matters into his own hands and raise you to be brave and powerful, bold and ambitious, cunning and scheming.

You demonstrated early on that you were a perceptive young dove. Your father would receive compliments from other lords who told him he did a fine job. Even though he was aware, he was nonetheless inspired by the compliments that were given to him.

You adored the concept your father planted in your brain and knew from a young age that you were destined to marry into the Targaryen family. Who would turn down the chance to become the high-status lady you were to become? As a result, you carried the distinctive qualities of your house with you as you developed.

You met your soon-to-be husband when you were being watered to blossom into an ideal representation of your father. Throughout your time in Kings Landing, you got to know Aemond Targaryen. The blacks had long since left, having fled to Dragonstone, which you described to Aemond as pitiful. The younger child had told you about his lost eye and how he came across his dragon. You had pledged, filled with awe, that you would protect him from further damage.

The boy had mocked you back then. He assured you that it was his responsibility to safeguard his future wife from harm. His words touched you. You had graciously taken his hands in yours and then addressed the youngster, speaking to him with wise counsel. "My dear boy, let's make a pact to look out for each other from now on." You will use your strength to keep me safe, and I will use my smarts to keep you safe.

Your words had left him in awe. It felt almost wrong for Aemond to trust a person that fast. His vision changed ever since that dreadful night, he became aware of all the snakes and rats who were waiting for the demise of the Targaryens- Hightowers and the ascent of Rhaenyra Velaryon.

Since then, getting along with Aemond was not difficult for you. You two had already started to feel wonderful things for one another before being married. Once you did get married and formed a lifelong commitment, your feelings just grew deeper. The first to congratulate you both were your father and Aemond's grandsire; shortly after, they were discovered to be drinking above their actual limit.

Their plan had worked and you were delighted to assist your brother-in-law in usurping his elder sister. To have him sit on the iron throne. For you to survive in this world, you needed wealth and power, and you knew that if you stopped now, you and your spouse would both perish whenever Rhaenyra Velaryon ascended to the iron throne. You were willing to go to any length for the sake of your husband and family, you told yourself.

As the years passed, the Targaryen line flourished. His wife gave Aegon twins, and Aemond was given a son and a daughter. The older one shares the blood-red hair of his mother and the violet eyes of his father, while your daughter had long, white hair. Like him, she has deep Targaryen eyes. A vibrant violet.

Your step-sister-in-law still lingered back at Dragonstone with her sons. You had never met her yourself. The stories your family spoke, even the maids and guards in Kings Landing were enough to get an insight into her character. You held your description short seeing that you could not fully rely on the tales the maids whispered- you found them exaggerating their tales of her. The stories of the rogue prince, you trusted fully even his brother- the King had spoken ill of him in the past.

You believed the firstborn of the king was calm and composed, certain of her own abilities. You must use caution when facing her, which is a great quality to have in times of war. If the rogue prince is by her side, does she still possess mercy in her heart? You were unaware, and perhaps this is not the right time to learn.

The Targaryens- Hightowers were currently dealing with other concerns. A literal knife was being held against their throats. Today they are expecting a visit from a small but strong house. It is said that one man held the power of seven and thirteen if handed a weapon. They needed men to win the war that was coming for them, and they were not about to deny the house that offered their help. House Tindall offered themselves, led by a strong and hasty man.

However, they were the issue. They were the knife that the king had invited for dinner today. Your grandsire-in-law intended to attack them in order to weaken Rhaenyra, not to gather the warriors Lord Tindall so generously provided. You were aware of Rhaenyra's followers, particularly those who resided in Kings Landing.

When it comes to their opinions, your family is a transparent bunch. Maybe not when it comes to their schemes and plots, but they made their opinions known. Therefore, it was difficult for you to keep your mouth shut as you observed her loyal dogs eating, bathing, and sleeping in warm, thick sheets. You were not about to put your husband and two lovely children in danger because you could not compose yourself.

It would only reflect poorly on your own name and that of your father, who raised you differently. A disgrace, which you will never put into consideration, but still, you desired for the traitorous Tindall's to depart or, even better, to die because if they were to return to their queen, she would become stronger. That was something the greens tried to avoid; it was already beginning to look difficult with only three dragons on their side while the blacks have way more.

Hence, you decided to take a different approach. Something that would not declare war but rather be an unfortunate accident. Despite Tindall showing great strength, they also have weaknesses—pathetic ones, you thought.

Your heels filled the halls as you walked along the high walls. The silky, gold dress you are wearing is being held up by one of your hands while the other holds your daughters. While the maids made you ready for the dinner that was about to take place in just a few hours, your ears picked up the rumours the maids spoke about. A weakness. A plan to get rid of Lord Tindall.

In haste, you made your way outside to search for your son and husband. The whole way, you struggled to hide the smirk on your face. ''Mother please! Could you slow down?!'' All the things you wished to tell Aemond left your mind, and you focused on your daughter. As you watched her smooth her silky white hair down, you grinned down at her. You exhaled a chuckle and kissed her on the head.

''I have exciting things to tell your father, my love. My 'running' only reflects my eagerness, and would you not like to see your father yourself? I bet even your brother is there, training to become strong just like your father.'' Your daughter's face lit up just like the sun does every day; it warms your heart.

''Aemys!'' The little girl called out and ran towards the doors that lead outside, leaving you in the hall alone. You straightened your clothes before pursuing your daughter The sun immediately warms the skin exposed to it, and your eyes squint from its brightness. Only a quick look around was needed to find your daughter again. Her short arms were clinging to the legs of your husband.

''As she grows, so does her love for you. Perhaps she loves you more than me.'' Your voice caught the attention of your son and Aemond, but your daughter still stuck to him. Your son, Aemys, raced into your arms after dropping his sword. He gains strength as he ages. The arms that are around your waist feel tighter each time you hug your firstborn.

''And he loves you more than me. A fair exchange, I would say.'' Aemond could spout insults and still seem courteous thanks to his soothing voice, which was always pleasant to hear. He took your daughter by her hips and threw her in the air above him. Every time he caught her, a giggle would go past your daughter's lips. Alysys has always been a walking sun in your eyes.

She would remind you of your mother many times—a clever and soft young girl. Her love for animals inspires you, while her mind makes you proud. Your son always surprised you with his boldness; he too was a smart child, something Westeros lacked. But Aemys shines the hardest when he holds a sword in his hand. Sometimes you watch him train and see Aemond in him, and a proud glint in your eyes will be seen.

As you fluffed his hair, dirt trickled down it. His eyes quickly shut, and his hands tried to block yours. ''Mother please! There is no need, as I'm about to continue with father anyway. '' You patted his head one more time before leading him to his sister. ''Go show your sister the things you've just learned, and after I've finished speaking to your father, you may continue your training.'' Aemys went to his sister and took her hand, but not before greeting her with a kiss on her head. ''Come Alysys.''

Aemond's form went near you; his head lowered as he followed his oldest child's action. But instead of kissing you on the head, your husband kissed you on the lips. When he whispered, ''Each time I'm surprised to have so well-spoken children, '' his hands were clasped in yours.

A pleased smile appeared as you bowed your head, breaking your gaze from Aemond. ''It merely implies we have done an excellent job in raising them, husband.'' Aemond continued to stare at you with admiration in his eye. ''I would say, you have done an excellent job. I can assure you that, me, and Aegon were not that clever in our youth.'' It seemed like you could not stop smiling today as his little jest brought amusement to you.

''Perhaps you are right.'' You lightly pinched his arm and teased. His head tilted, he wanted revenge but stopped when he noticed your expression change to a darker one. One he knew all too well. Above Kings Landing, the clouds slowly began to cover the beaming sun. You and he were possessed by Shadow, and so was your discussion.

''But that is not what I am here for. I'm sure you have heard about the Tindalls visiting us.'' As soon as he heard you speak, Aemond's attitude matched yours. ''You mean Rhaenyra's ally.''

''Yes, Aemond. The letter from Lord Tindall mentioned that if we agreed to unite our houses, he would give us his soldiers and his loyalty. Basically, his letter was a lie. I was and still am convinced they were sent by Daemon to kill us.'' The words you spoke were low. Only Aemond could hear you say them in a muted tone. Your eyes watched Aemys fall to the ground, letting Alysys win their pretend fight. ''I assume you already have a plan.''

''That is what i was so excited about, my love. I may or may not have handled everything already.'' A dark glint was in your eyes while you watch Aemonds face twist into a amazed one.

''Am I allowed to know?'' Aemond mumbled in his usual soft voice, behind it you could hear his delight. Your husbands hands freed your face of your fiery red hair as the clouds brought the wind forth. ''No. That is for you to find out.''

''I have heard you were in the kitchens a moment ago. Am I on the right path?'' His hands now gently and lovingly caressed your cheeks. ''Perhaps, perhaps not.'' You replied to him. In the background, Alysys's brother began to torment her while she screamed and laughed.

''I shall wait for the upcoming events then.'' Aemond gave you a kiss and went back towards his sword, which he had stuck in the ground before. His hair swung as he went back to train his son. ''Aemys! Say goodbye to your mother, will you? Aemy's attention was taken from his sister, who lay on the ground and waved to you from a distance. ''Till later, mother!''

You returned your child's wave. You believed Aemys was a true gentleman. Your son assisted your youngest in rising from the ground and wiping off the excess dirt she had on her yellowish dress. Aemys pushed his sister's small body in your direction after saying goodbye to her with another kiss on the head.

''Mother! Aemys showed me how to fight without a weapon.'' Alysys laughed as she took your hand. ''I saw, my love. Hence, we are going to have you wash up now. '' You told her when you saw the mud prints left in the hall behind you. ''Oh-oh, '' your daughter mumbled.

The sky went darker as time went by. Aemond and Aemys finished a long time ago and got ready for the upcoming dinner. Well, only your husband, because you and he had planned to bring the children to bed before you left. It was quite late, and you wished to keep Tindall's eyes off your children.

Aemond closed the doors behind him, bidding Alysys a good night. He came up to your side and extended his arm. ''The guards will watch the doors. '' You and he are walking to the dining hall. Guards followed you to the hall. They are safe, my love, '' you told Aemond when you noticed his unnerving behaviour. You felt the same, letting an ally of Rhaenyra into the castle. It was unnerving.

''Did you have a loving day, brother?'' Aemond pulled a chair out for you, and you sat down while looking at the huge table and the food. ''Wonderful. Just like any other day.'' Aegon answered your question. Beside him sat Helaena, mumbling to herself, but Aegon ignored her like he had always done. Her husband instead drowned in his cups and took a few grapes, popping them in his mouth.

''What about you, dear sister?'' The oldest Targaryen present at the moment asked, sarcasm lacing his rough voice. ''It was marvellous, and it's about to get even better.'' You smirked with glee, and your hand took Aemonds. Aegon was an individual who could not be bothered, but he still had a gift for stirring particular people up, and Aemond was unfortunately one of them.

Aemond felt compelled to protect you since he knew his brother simply intended to mock you. But as Aegon and you both know, your spouse is prone to making his emotions known. The male Targaryens all share the tendency to act in the same way when they are irritated or enraged. He has a tendency to hurt them with his comments, which have in the past caused fights or worse.

That was something you wanted to avoid this eventful evening. At this supper, the Tindall's are expected to feel welcomed.

''Better? Our sisters ass suckers are to sit at this table while they stuff themselves like pigs.'' Aegon scoffed; his eyes locked onto yours. His eye bags were so dark that one would think they were talking to a dead body. ''If you are to be king, my dear brother, then you should learn a few things. This is a great opportunity, so you should use it. Pay attention to this supper rather than overthrowing your liver.''

Aegon simply scoffed and gulped the liquid in the cup quickly. His eyes were suddenly downcast, disregarding the bug in front that was placed in front of him. He murmured to himself under his breath. ''I don't fucking want it. '' Unsurprisingly, his brother heard. When his stool created a screeching noise, Aemond attempted to get up but was halted by the opening of the tall, gold-layered doors.

Loud steps appeared and were followed by exuberant talking and laughing. Lord Tindall, his family (wife and kids). His mother, a tall brunette woman, was the sole female in the household. Her Husband took the lead, wearing warrior-style clothing and a beard that covered his entire neck. Since Kings Landing was hot even at night, his sleeveless shirt was in keeping with the temperature.

The Lord had black hair, and his face and arms were covered in wounds from battle. His sons were similar in height to him and shared their mother's green eyes and father's black hair. The assumed youngest was roughly the same height as Aemond.

It simply took a single glance. Lord Tindall was a tremendously prideful man, and his pride overshadowed his strategic thinking and ability in battle. Even though he was among the strongest people in all of Westeros, his ego got in the way. No words were uttered by his wife. She was submissive and mum. Her eyes would reflect her respect for her spouse when she looked at him.

Both of these traits were present in their three sons. The tallest and quietest child was the oldest. Even before they sat down, his brothers waited for him to sit first before following him.

You figured that he was the second strongest person in the room. They should not have been underestimated—his father came first. They were sent by Daemon for a reason and not by someone else.

However, you weren't concerned. Even the strongest people cannot withstand a food allergy. The other two sons were loud and proud, just like their father. This ought to be over soon.

All four of you greeted the family. ''Where is the King?'' Lord Tindall's rough voice asked as he looked at the empty seat opposite him. You waited for Aegon to talk, as he was the oldest of the four of you. But a sigh left your mouth when you saw the shrug he sent you. You only returned a disappointed eye roll and spoke as the second oldest.

''I am afraid the king cannot attend today. His sickness is taking a toll on him; he must rest. The queen and the hand of the king will be with us instead.'' You smiled at him and raised your cup, a common sign of acknowledgement. ''I see,'' he replied, his eyes showing slight confusion and intrigue. The lord expected Aegon to talk, the male heir, but was surprised it was the wife of the second-born.

It did not take long for Otto Hightower and the queen to arrive. The evening appeared to go smoothly on the outside, but that was only the case.

The queen forced a smile everytime a joke was told or she was fidgeting around while sometimes staring at the weapons Lord Tindalls guards were wielding. When she learned that an opponent had been invited, she felt anxious. Alicent was concerned for herself, her kids, and especially her grandchildren.

Otto Hightower was the one conversing with Lord Tindall. They started off talking about lighter topics but soon drifted to politics and war. Your grandsire-in-law's actions did not surprise you because he most likely had a plan of his own. He was grasping for information.

Helaena took small bites while nervously listening to one of Lord Tindall's sons, or she was talking if it was with Aemond. Aegon completely kept to himself.

Aemond did not speak much, and if he did, it was only with his own family. To Aegon, he would indignantly throw insults; to his mother, he would reassure her with physical touch or words.

You appreciated Aemond not interrupting the exchange you were having with Lady Tindall. You were sharing stories—false stories—with the wife. At first she would only hum or say a few words, but over time she shared more than you anticipated.

You would closely observe her while you listened to her speak. She would frequently fix her gaze on the guards the Lord had brought. When you questioned whether something was wrong or whether the main course was to her taste, she would smile tensely. Lady Tindall would smile hesitantly and wave her hands.

The Lords guards gradually backed away from their original positions and formed a circle around the table. There were perhaps eight guards there, which seemed excessive for just dinner. However, there were a lot more guards for the queen.

''Does your plan involve killing?'' Aemond whispered into your ear; it was obvious he was triggered, as his eye was shooting daggers at the unfamiliar guards around you. ''Do not worry, my dear, as that would only worsen the matter. "Even if they have the power, one guard cannot beat twenty men at once, can they?''

Your eyes caught your mother-in-law gripping a knife hard; the young wife was beginning to tremble in her seat. Aemond watched you nod behind him, your eyes looking past him. ''Watch over your mother, my love; it is time.'' You mumbled and gave him a kiss on the cheek before you slowly stood up.

''I would like to say a toast while the servants bring in the dessert.'' Everyone in the room tuned in when you raised your hand with a cup of wine in your hand. It was held high while you spoke. The hand of the king leaned back into his seat right as you spoke; a smug aura was emitting from him. However, the queen had trouble feeling at ease. You felt bad for your mother, as she was only going to feel worse with what she was going to witness.

''Lord Tindall, my family wants to thank you dearly for meeting with us and uniting our houses. You will be a great asset to the Targaryens, and we are delighted to wed the future king's daughter, Jahaera Targaryen, to your youngest, Finley Tindall.''

''As am I! '' He interrupted and hit his youngest on the shoulder hard. His acting was so fabulous that you had to give it to him. A small cheer followed his words. You only responded with a small lift of your lips and continued.

''My brother Aegon will ascend the iron throne after his father, the king, Viserys Targaryen, and protect the Seven Kingdoms just like his father had done all the years before him. With our strength combined, we will stop anyone who says otherwise, as they are nothing but traitors to us, an enemy we have and will destroy.''

You did not hesitate to emphasise the last bit. A quick glance was shared with your distant uncle and, at the same time, your grandsire-in-law. ''I am sure the ride here took you a long time, and so I want to express our gratitude through a wonderful dessert.''. Many servants began to bring in the dessert.

''I have heard many stories of your hometown, and the foods sounded interesting." With the bowl placed in front of you, I wish to make you feel even more welcome. Good apatite.'' You finished your toast and drank the wine in your hand.

Before taking a seat, you delayed and nodded at one of the guards. When the bowls were set in front of your family as well, they instantly understood. Alicent's expression was one of shock and worry. Otto looked proud but managed to hide it effectively. Helaena played with a bug under the table while trying to avoid glancing at the guests. Aegon's intoxicated self laughed but quickly covered it up by taking another drink. Before that, he gave you a discreet applause, to which you responded with a smirk of your own.

Aemond first looked towards you, looking for a sign of confirmation, and when he got one, his eye was directed to the Lord. His eye followed the way the family began to swallow their hometown's last course.

''While you eat, I want to confess. My maids, sadly, could not find the right ingredients, and so we had to change a few things.'' You nervously told them, but the second-born spoke fast after you. ''No worries, my lady. This tastes just like the maids at home do it!''

''Oh really?'' You asked, following your grandsire's form. Your back against the chair, a hand holding onto a cup, and the other holding your husband's Your pretending eyes turned sly and dark, and instead of a fake nervous smile, it got replaced by a lazy smirk.

''Then I am glad.'' Even your voice sounded shady. ''I was afraid the peanuts were going to be a distraction.'' This sentence stopped the whole hall. Your family watched with interest when the Tindalls stopped eating their dessert. His wife, Lady Tindall, began to shake with terror. ''P-Peanuts…?''.

Each kid responded differently. The oldest appeared to accept his fate and made an effort to reassure the secondborn one that everything would be alright. The smallest, Finley, started crying, while the second child did nothing but gaze at you with horror written all over his face.

"Y-You cunt!" Bring me Aegon and her head, guards! '' His raspy voice rang out, but all he got in response was silence. Unlike his family, the man with the black hair understood what was happening right away.

He got to his feet and scanned the area. Each of his guards had a severed throat and was lying on the ground. It's unfortunate that Lord Tindall was stuck with his head in the bowl and was unaware of the silent killing.

He hurriedly approached you, his feet pounding the ground so loudly that it echoed. You chose not to move and simply gave him an arrogant shrug. You got blocked by Aemond. Your husband glares at the furious man, watching him hit the ground.

''Th-The Q-Queen! Rhaenyra Velaryon will sit the ir-on throne after Viserys T-Targaryen. I-I pr-omise you tha- Cun….'' He was loyal until his last breath, but it obviously did him and his family no good. Blood was pouring from their eyes, nostrils, and mouth. Aemond slowly made his way back to his seat, almost stumbling over the dead body of Finley Tindall.

''M-My dear? What will we tell the people? Rhaenyra will take this as an act of war, will she not? Father.'' The queen said this while being comforted by her son, Aemond. It was a sight she did not wish to see.

''Do not worry, mother. Rhaenyra, more like Daemon, cannot do anything as this will only show he had a plan of his own- this is delicious!! My Gosh!'' You interrupted yourself when you tried the dessert. ''A shame they were allergic to peanuts, though, '' you said with a full mouth, ignoring the tense atmosphere around you.

''This really isn't bad.'' Aegon muffled and took another spoonful of it. His mother only glanced at him with disbelief. This time Otto spoke and while the king's guards moved the bodies. ''I assume your plan was to lie. We will say an unfortunate accident happened; we had no knowledge of their allergy or a cure. The guards had to be killed because they wanted to kill us. '' Otto told his daughter and offered her the dessert.

''Exactly. Is it good, my love?'' You beamed and turned to the seat next to you. Aemond nodded at you. ''It is. Perhaps we should give a little to Aemys and Alysys. Our little ones would love it.'' He takes another taste after answering. ''We should.'' You confirmed his thoughts.

The queen was at a loss for words as she observed her children eating in peace. Helaena does appear to be a little uneasy but still emptied the bowl herself. Alicent worries as she looks at her father. After a brief exchange of stares, her father's eyes finally got through to her.

''a-an unfortunate accident… alright.'' She repeated it and took a shaky spoonful of the soft texture.

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sigilsongs · 1 month

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(``) muse tags. ALICENT

(``) alicent hightower . (tag)

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migalloyuji · 6 months

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Regarding Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey sons of Rhaenyra and Laenor, “this are our sons”

Laenor: cool

Corlys: cool

Laena: cool

Rhaenys: cool

Viserys: cool

Daemon: cool

The realm: cool

alicent’s ass who doesn’t belong to house Targaryen or house Velaryon for some reason: no!!! they are bastards!!!!!!!

Like bitch what do you care? You are a hightower, don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, mind your business, maybe stop neglecting your children, maybe stop your oldest son for raping innocent girls or your own daughter

Like no wonder none of them gave a fuck when you ended up in chains and your daughter couldn’t wait to get away from you so she decided to jump and scape the misery that was having you as mother

You even endangered your own grown daughter, the last relative you had alive btw, more than Daemon’s assassins

lol glad that bitch ends up childless

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dany-is-my-queen · 1 year

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A Question Of Loyalty II

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 6.8k

Note: First of all, I cannot thank all of you guys enough for the love you’ve given to this story. To be completely honest, I don’t know how many chapters are left, maybe 2, maybe even 4. After the 1 season of House of The Dragon ended, I’m in blank really. I’m currently reading Fire & Blood, where “The storm broke and the dragons danced”. So, I don’t want to spoil you, therefore I’m unsure on how much to include in futures chaps… I already have a few ideas though, solid ones that you’ll read soon. Anyways, sorry for my rambling lol. Enjoy! These are flashbacks, to give context of what occurred before the part I.

Part 1

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

Oh how you rejoiced in taking off to the mountain tops to liberate your mind for a while. You didn’t take after your father, not being a big fan of the sea and sailing, instead, you fell in love with the skies. Silverwing was the best dragon you could ever dream for. Not having hatched one of your own, unlike Laenor, you claimed the she-dragon when you were only nine, you almost gave Rhaenys a heart attack when she was told you’ve been seen soaring the skies atop of her. “Your great grandmother would be proud. But don’t be hot-headed, Y/N.” The Queen Who Never Was remarked. You wore a grin of satisfaction when your mother praised you.

You admired Queen Alysanne, you’ve read all about her contribution to the Realm in the ruling of her husband, King Jaehaerys I, therefore, you aspired to become like her, that’s why you gathered the courage to mount the silvery beast. She was relatively docile and friendly to strangers, so it was natural the bond that bloomed between you.

You lodged in King’s Landing since then, with Silverwing residing in the Dragon Pit with the rest of the dragons.

“Care to join me for a ride, cousin?” Rhaenyra offered beaming.

“Today is your nameday, my Princess. Do you want to spend it with me?” Rhaenyra was turning ten and five, you were the same age and that aided you to feel comfortable around one another. And you found common ground on flying. She nodded eagerly, grabbing gently your forearm.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

How could you refuse the Princess of the Kingdom? You were being reckless and selfish, to say the least. King Viserys and Queen Aemma were hosting a huge feast and jousting to celebrate the “Realm’s Delight”, but she had other plans in mind. You tagged along without a second thought.

“Where are we going?” You asked once you were ready to take depart.

“Home.”

Dragonstone was a short flight from the Capital, the dank island was forsaken, except for a dozen servants that kept the Castle in good conditions. You landed ashore, unsure on why Rhaenyra would want to be there.

“We could move here. Just the two of us.” The Princess’s voice unwavering. You modestly chuckled. After all, it is rightfully mine”

“It would get a bit lonely, don’t you agree?” You demurred, she shook her head.

“Not really, we have Syrax and Silverwing. They can keep us company.”

“Would that suffice, my Princess?” She looked you straight in the eye, you had never felt so intimate with anyone before.

“It would, for me. I’ll never be the son my father so desperately seeks. There’s no place for me there. Not one that will lead me to a happy ending.” The confession staggered your heart, the princess felt so alone, so isolated, under the shadow of an unborn male child. “We could visit Driftmark from time to time. I know you’d miss your family.” She insisted, you contemplated this absurd notion for a minute.

“What about Alicent?”

“What about her?”

“Wouldn’t you miss her?”

“Would you?”

“Yes. She’s our friend.”

“She’s way too dutiful. She will marry soon and forget about us.”

“You reckon?”

“We could do as we pleased here. I needn’t worry about you marrying some fat Lord. We could wed instead, I’ve read about the ancient Valyrian ceremonies. I would make you happy.” There was no malice, nor ambition, solely innocence and hope. You were bewildered, couldn’t believe what Rhaenyra was professing, she was not jesting. Her stomach knotted, worried you’d look at her with disgust, but you cupped her face in your hands. The moonlight shone on the water and on her blue eyes. Rhaenyra has never looked more beautiful, her hair waving gracefully in the blowing wind, her lips so inviting, flushed cheeks.

The naive, ingenious part of you wanted to seal your consent with a fiery kiss, your first kiss. To affirm to her that you would marry her to the tradition of your Houses. Then that vision faded in your mind, she was the Princess, the only child of the King & Queen. That hunch… telling you she was destined for something greater than breaking the rules and committing this kind of madness. It could never be.

“Nyke’m isse jorrāelagon rūsīr ao. (I’m in love with you) Even if for some bizarre reason my father decided to make me his pronounced heir. I would give it up, I’d give everything up to be with you. In a heartbeat.” In this moment in time, Rhaenyra bared her deepest desires and dreams to you. Despite this, you balked off. Fixing your coat and climbing on Silverwing before she could stop you, dodging her face. This was the right thing to do, the wise action. They wouldn’t let you be together, she was more than you deserved. You felt like an absolute coward, you were. The silver dragon flapped her wings into the night sky, heading back to King’s Landing.

Syrax hopelessly yowled. Which meant she was feeling her rider's heartache.

**********

There are days… where you find yourself wishing you had said yes to Rhaenyra, to had carried on with her unhinged proposal. Your parents haven’t urged you to get married, for which you were grateful for. After the incident with the Princess at Dragonstone, you grew asunder. She avoided you like the plague, barely granting you a word when in the same space. Whereas with Lady Alicent, you only grew closer. You enjoyed her company, and making her laugh.

“Do you get homesick?” Alicent asked while reading a book with you laying on her lap.

“Of course. Being apart from my siblings is hard. But being here allows me to spend time with you. That’s a fair exchange.” You missed the way Alicent blushed. “Do you?”

“Yes, I miss my brother Gwayne. My cousins. Hightower was warmer… I felt closer to the Gods. And to my mother.” You knew she still had a difficult time recalling the demise of her mother.

“Let’s pay a visit to Oldtown then.” You bluntly suggested, attempting to lift her spirts. Alicent giggled.

“It’s a prolonged way from the Keep. It’d take months… my father won’t let me be absent for that long.”

“Lucky for you. I happen to know someone who could take us there in no time.” You smirked, Alicent understanding now who your carriage was.

“Y/N, are you out of your mind! I would fall off Silverwing somewhere across the Roseroad and my body would never be located.” You chuckled at her overemphasis more so cause she possessed a serious look on her delicate features.

“Don’t be dramatic, Alicent. You’d be clutching my waist the entire flight. I’ll have the dragon keepers saddle her properly for your safety. It would be an unforgettable quest. C’mon, my lady. Picture it, instead of reading old tales and histories we can have an experience of our own. We can even make a quick stop on Highgarden, have you been there?” Alicent did want to go, it felt like a lifetime opportunity. If only she wasn’t terrified of mounting a dragon…

“The many rivers, the canal crisscross and its cobbled streets, the breathtaking mansions. I wish to see the place where you grew up. Please?”

It didn’t take much to convince Alicent, she was surprised herself. She was willing to overcome her fear for those beasts… if it meant to share this voyage with you.

Alicent approached your dragon with dread creeping in. “Touch her.” You encouraged her, she delayed, you guided her fingers to the long neck of Silverwing.

“Promise me if I die you’ll say to my family that I’m sorry and that I love them.” Alicent quipped but did mean it. You pressed a peck to her temple to soothe her.

“I’d never let anything happen to you.” That was all the reassurance Alicent needed.

“May I?” You asked gently.

“You may.” You helped her climb, following behind, she cleaved steady your lower back. “I still don’t know how I persuaded my father to let me go.”

“He was in a good mood, I guess. Now, don’t make a hasty move cause if you do Silverwing might toss us away by accident.” You tried to feign a serious tone. She stiffened and tighten her grip, you bursted out laughing again and she nudged you softly.

“Y/N! Don’t tease.”

“Sorry sorry. You’re stuck with me. Sōvēs, Silverwing!” The ride to her home was pure bliss. She never would have wager that she’d enjoy riding in dragonback. She wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of it or the mere fact that you were the one with her. That was the very journey that showed her what true love felt like. Disguised as adventurous friendship, she realized she was head over heels for you.

**********

It hasn't been long since you returned to the Capital from your excursion with Lady Alicent. You sat next to her at the tournaments, this time celebrating the upcoming birth of the King's first son. Rhaenyra watched you from her seat. You felt quite uncomfortable, more so because that fire inside you kept burning wildly whenever she was around. There was a new knight in town, Criston Cole, you overheard, the Realm’s Delight seemed smitten by him, and you suddenly felt sick, jealousy twisting in, you paid no attention, Alicent was gossiping about the other participants.

Queen Aemma died in childbirth, you wished you were there for Rhaenyra, but she built her walls higher than they have ever been.

Rhaenyra was proclaimed heir by the King, as you once suspect it would happen. She’s destined for greater things. The same tape replaying in your head. The Lords from all across the Kingdoms swore fealty to her, your House among them.

A few moons passed and Alicent was betrothed to the King, news that surprised Rhaenyra, though not you. It relieved you, for he wasn’t to take you nor little Laena to wife. Alicent has told you about her private visits to Viserys, solemnly swearing it was his father’s goal all along.

“My interest for men is as dull as dishwater.” She commented one day. Gaining your curiosity.

“Whatever do you mean? I know you desire not to marry him. Does that…-“

“I’m not going to elaborate. Just… remember this. I will always be yours.”

“Wha-“

“I need to prepare. See you at the ceremony, lady Y/N.” She ran out, leaving you very, very confused.

**********

It’s been four years since the royal wedding. Four years since you decided to leave court to be with your family and stop pondering about her, or rather, about them. Then proceeded to head for the fighting on the Stepstones, aiming to bring some help to your father and brother, only to be dismissed upon your arrival. You argued with your sire at the Valeryon camp on Dwarfstone. “No, Y/N. Not a chance.” Corlys rejected you. There was no bargain on the table. “This is no playground, no training yard. This is a dangerous zone. I cannot and will not risk your life.”

“But father- my dragon can make the difference, I’m capable of fighting as well-“

“I know, sweet daughter. I know you are. Even more capable than half my men here, but you are no soldier, Y/N. You have no practice in these things. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen while you’re in this bloodshed.” Your father finished explaining his concern. You were upset about it, by all means. How were you to learn if not by being in an actual war.

That didn’t halt you though. Laenor disagreed at the beginning. Unhappy to oblige to your request, you implored for his help on this one. And so he gave it. He unfolded the plan of supposedly surrender to the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy, proposing a desperate gambit, using Daemon as bait to lure the Crabfeeder's forces into the open to eliminate them all at once. “Gods be good, if father kills me after this, know that it’ll be on you.”

You ready yourself, locating on the top of the highest peak, standing by until further signal from Laenor.

It was time when you spotted Seasmoke emerged. You trailed behind them, setting ablaze the Triarchy soldiers astride Silverwing, wiping out the archers overlooking the battlefield. A lost arrow almost hitting you, you dodged it effectively. As they forced reel, Corlys and Vaemond leaded a brutal counterattack against the enemy, while Daemon pursued Drahar into the caves. As the Velaryon forces claimed victory, Daemon dragged the upper half of Drahar's bisected corpse behind him. Your father’s vassals gazed upon the skies to find you and your she-dragon roaring with strength.

**********

You were back at Driftmark. Your father scolded you, and Laenor. But it was worth it, you knew deep down he was proud of you. Quite the woman you were becoming, what did you need a husband for?

Your mother welcomed you with a hug that lasted for hours, she also reprimanded you though, “Still hot-headed.” And Laena hugged you as well. “I can’t believe you went off to war to escape your feelings from a certain Targaryen princess.” Your sister hissed, mocking you.

“I can’t believe you claimed Vhagar.” She smiled warmly at you. “I’ve missed you, little sister.”

“So have I.” Then you proceeded to visit your dragons.

**********

“Rhaenyra flew in here weeks ago. You were on the Stepstones. She seemed to be in a hurry. Like she sought rescue.” Laena nonchalantly depicted. Why would she?

“What did she want?”

“Other than to say hello to her favorite cousin, I have no idea. She said something about the King organizing a tour for her with the most noble lords in the Realm. At this time, she is to continue holding audiences for her hand in marriage.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra on the search for a husband… that didn’t sit well with you.

“She’s to be here too.” The youngest Valeryon added.

“I doubt that she’ll find her golden knight here.” You scoffed, you couldn’t face her, not yet. “However, none of my business.” Laena looked at you incredulously but didn’t push it. “I will go to King’s Landing to check on the Queen. I didn’t even say goodbye the last time. Accompany me?”

“I’d love to, but I don’t want to leave mother. And you will surely be wrapped up.”

“Off with me then.” You said your farewells to your parents & siblings and set your route to the Capital.

**********

It was perfect timing, you thought. The Princess was touring the Realm, therefore she wouldn’t be any near the Keep, you could visit Alicent without fretting of seeing Rhaenyra.

You still loved her, that was very much true. It was different now though… you felt braver than you did those days back in Dragonstone when you fled and abandoned her. You owe an apology, to both of them really. “I’ll always be yours.” What did Alicent mean with that? Always be your best friend? Did she was enamored by you? Was that another reason for the girls to be in odds with one another? Were you to blame?

You arrived at the gates of the castle, you were nervous but masked it pretty well, then proceeded to greet the King, “Lady Y/N! So good to have you back. Your non-appearance hasn’t gone unnoticed.” Viserys hospitably welcomed you.

“Thank you, your Grace. I’ve missed it as badly. How’s Princess Rhaenyra?”

“She’s… disobeying me as usual. Don’t know if you are aware but we arranged a tour for her to choose her own consort. Yet she came back earlier than scheduled, moons for it to be over.” You opened your eyes in realization of what that meant, fortunately Viserys didn’t notice it.

“I see, your grace. That sounds a lot like her.”

“You’ve grown distant. That saddens me. Since her fifteenth nameday she’s hasn’t been the same, she’s upset and depressed. Perhaps you could rekindle your relation with her now that you’re both around.” He encouraged you, you played the part.

“You’re right, you’re Grace. That would warm my heart, hopefully hers too.” Rhaenyra did remember what happened that evening, it still burdened her, guilt swamping all over.

The tide was set the other way around. But you longed to see her, them.

Daemon was there, as expected. And you were invited to the gathering held in the goodswood to the younger prince’s honor. The King got somewhat drunk, and was sharing stories of his teenage years along with Daemon, who had a smirk on his face. The Queen and the Princess were there as well.

“Oh lady Y/N. Glad you could join us.” Viserys alluded to you in such an effortless manner, you approached them, situating in between him and Rhaenyra. “You know, this is also for you. I heard about your bravery on the latest war. You did brought fire and blood to the enemy. What is it you want as a reward for your courage? Never would expect you were a warrior but you are very much like your sire Lord Corlys.” Daemon sniggered under his teeth, and Alicent was blowed.

“It is not glory I’m after, nor a reward, your Grace. But I truly appreciate your nice words.”

“How modest. You’re one of a kind, my lady. Lucky the man that gets to keep you.”

“Yes, indeed very lucky.” Daemon mocked. You paid no mind. Viserys spoke again. Did the prince was always this annoying?

“My lady wife has told me about the trip you once ventured in together. Wandering the skies on dragonback. If I had a dragon myself, I could take her on a similar adventure. Just like my grandparents once did.”

“Yes, husband. I had a great time with lady Y/N. We visited the Citadel also, it was magical. I cherish it dearly.” Alicent reminisced fondly, so did you. The Princess shifted awkwardly.

“If you excuse me, I’ll go see the new tapestries displayed in the gallery.” She excused herself and dashed from you. Daemon tracking after her.

Shortly after, you requested to speak to the Queen alone.

“Before I start apologizing, let my tell you. You look stunning in that dress.”

“I was not sure that the Targaryen colors would fit me.” Alicent bashfully answered the compliment. You admired her under the afterglow.

“They certainly do. Red and black highlight your skin, your Grace.” She was as red as the morning sun, feeling like lady Alicent Hightower again, not “The Queen.”

“You flatter me. But what is that that I heard that you went to war? You didn’t even say goodbye, Y/N. I was left alone.” You felt bad, too selfish really to stick around Alicent’s side, but living in the same place that the silver-head was way too intoxicating, you wagered she hated you, not realizing you had hurt Her Grace along the way. “I…- realized that I have few friends lately.”

“I’m sorry, Alicent. I needed time away from court and also, you had your duties. Tending to the King, looking after your children. I can’t wait to meet the little princelings.” She softened, albeit, it was true, she had limited time to spare yet she would have found it for you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You came back.”

“The King requests your presence, my Queen.” Rhaenyra declared, faking a courtesy.

“Thank you, stepdaughter.” She barely spared a glance to the Princess. “We will resume our conversation later.” You bowed and she was gone. Rhaenyra was walking away from you.

“Princess… may I speak with you for a minute?” You attempted. Rhaenyra didn’t stop her pace. “Rhaenyra.”

“My uncle is waiting for me.”

“How long are you going to ignore me?” The question coming more like an accusation. She turned around.

“I? You were the one that brushed me aside years ago. You didn’t care about seeking me out. You then left the city. You return and launch into her arms first. I do not owe you anything, Y/N” You didn’t have a reply, for it was the truth.

You did jilt her, and she was far from being over it. But you fairly did leave because you loved her, more than your heart could admit, and the fact that you couldn't be with her was too much to bear. Little did you know that that was all she wanted, even though you spurned her once you were younger, she still wished to court you, woo you. You were dying to tell her she swept you off your feet a long while back.

A big terrible lack of communication set your paradise ablaze, the two of you burned and turned to cinders, but… where there were fire, ashes remain, right? You were a wine stained gown, one Rhaenyra could no longer wear.

**********

Did Rhaenyra resented you? Or did she harbored her old feelings for you? She was a mystery, one you wanted to unravel. You love her, not past tense. You love her in the present.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t resume your talk with Her Grace, a servant girl came shyly to inform you that she was nursing her newborn daughter Haelena, and later the King might “need” her. You didn’t dwell on the last part, as it was a duty she had, yet in her face was written her distaste for her obligations.

Later that evening you derived in a lengthen bath. You lit up some candles, wrote a couple of letters meant for Driftmark and leaned on the big window frame that had a gorgeous view of the city. The Dragonpit and the Sept could be spotted from there. Averting your thoughts as far as possible from the Targaryen Princess, to no avail, then back to the young Queen, “Alicent must be exhausted, the King ought to let her have a break” you pondered.

When slumber was finally kicking in, all of the sudden, you listened loud thumps on your door, it startled you. One, two, three times in a row. You rose and unlocked it to find the culprit of your insomnia. The Princess was wearing common page-boy’s clothes. Her hair was messy, her lips slightly swallowed? She was trying to catch her breath.

“Ummh…-“ She studied you for a lingering moment.

“Are you not going to let me through?” You stepped aside while you closed the door. Puzzled and doubtful of her abrupt appearance.

“The hour is quite late, Princess. Are you lost?” You cursed and cringed at the dumb question you had just made. “Are you tipsy? And why are you wearing that?” Rhaenyra seemed overwhelmed by your interrogation.

“Nyke’ve missed ao, ao kostagon’t imagine skorkydoso olvie.” (I’ve missed you, you cannot imagine how much) The Realm’s Delight blunted out, you hardened. It does something to you when she starts speaking in Valyrian… “Skoro syt haven’t ao sought issa hen? (Why haven’t you sought me out?) Ao jikagon naejot zȳhon, se dōrī rūsīr issa. Skoro syt?” (You go to her, and not to me. Why?) Rhaenyra inquired with bitterness in her airing. You focused on your feet, a coward you were.

“Nyke…-“ (I…) What the hell were you suppose to say? She horned in, stepping closer to you. The atmosphere growing thicker and thicker.

“Ao fucking gūrotan zȳhon isse Silverwing. (You fucking took her on Silverwing) She snarled. Gaomagon ao jorrāelagon zȳhon?” (Do you love her?) Mere inches from your mouth, Rhaenyra stood dangerously near, not being cautious at all. You were to give in. “Daor, ao don’t. Ao jorrāelagon issa.” (No, you don’t. You love me) That was an statement. Her body was calling on you. You melted under her fiery, powerful gaze and grabbed onto dear life to her waist, splashing your lips with hers with pure desire.

Those embers rising from the dead, turning into raging flames. Rhaenyra shoved you roughly to your bed muttering no more word, she unbuttoned her shirt, removed your own garments just as rapidly, you were now completely naked.

“Take off my pants.” She commanded, you unfastened the zip and she climbed to your lap, tangling herself onto you, kissing you again. “I want your fingers inside me, your mouth, I want you.” She impeled, a wild animal ready to attack their prey. “I need you.”

Rhaenyra mentioned nothing about loving you that night, nothing about running away together or anything of the sort. Her hunger and thirst for you the only things present in that room. She was intoxicating, addicting, all your cares in the world gone once you were inside her and she you. Nothing else mattered.

You’ve been up in the clouds with her, and now you understood what it felt like to be consumed by dragon fire.

**********

The aftermath of such events have not left consequences, but what you learned afterwards stirred your feels.

In the morrow, the sun rays were making their way in, you found a small letter under your pillow, you unfolded it and peeped at Rhaenyra’s fancy handwriting. “Rhaenagon issa rȳ Rhaeny’s Hill, nyke jaelagon naejot show ao mirros.” (Meet me at Rhaeny’s Hill, I want to show you something)

You were beyond content for the night prior, Rhaenyra was all you ever wanted, the love of your life, you naively convinced yourself. Mayhaps this time around you could declare your love, flee to Dragonstone and wed. Fuck them all, you thought. We will make our stand if anyone should dare oppose. Surely she would leave it all behind, like she said those years ago.

There was already another potential heir, Aegon, Alicent’s son would be accepted, all Viserys had to do was change the proclamation. Rhaenyra and you could have your happy ending.

You were on your way to assemble with her, but halted on the way to glimpse at Rhaenyra and Alicent seemingly arguing. You’ve never been one to eavesdrop, yet curiosity got the best of you.

“What happened last night, Rhaenyra?” Alicent bluntly asked, she was taken aback. So were you. Alicent was angry no doubt. “My father made worrying allegations, that you’ve been with your uncle.”

“Well, yes. I haven’t seen him in years. We went out to have some fun in the city. What of it? Other than sneaking out of the castle and drinking wine. I did not do anything serious.”

“He said that you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house!” Alicent lowered her tone and curtly exclaimed, you made sense of the sentence. Your heart sank at it. Did she? she was with you…

“That is a vile accusation.” Rhaenyra retorted.

“You Targaryens do have queer costumes.”

“Daemon took me to several taverns, we got very drunk, yes. I wanted to go home but he wished to continue. He was my escort and without him I couldn’t head back, we ended up in a brothel, we did see a show there but I was solely a spectator. Then he ran off with some whore therefore I had to make my way to the Keep on my own anyway.” She concluded by embellishing word-for-word that "Daemon never touched her" at all and swore this on her mother's memory. If that was the version she had explained to you, would you actually believe it? Nothing else happened… Something was amiss.

“How do you think Y/N will react to these news?”

“She need not to find out.” Rhaenyra was now… planning on deliberating keeping secrets from you. Not from your protection but to save face. She went to you the way she did, because she WAS to have sex with Daemon but he got cold feet, so she then went to her alternative, to satisfy her own needs, ones aroused by another person? Your eyes were welling with sour tears. You were only a second choice, she didn’t miss you, she didn’t even love you anymore. You were merely a vessel, one she needed to find release, no love was involved.

“Why do you keep behaving like this, after me and the King have strived to find you a good, suitable match, you go putting yourself in a position where your virtue could be call into question. Spitting the ones that care?”

You ran off, unable to keep listening to the bickering, you climbed onto your dragon as fast as you could, shrugging off the one belonging to the culprit of your crying. You didn’t show to the Hill, for obvious reasons. Leaving Rhaenyra waiting until sundown with your favorite flowers and the same unhinged proposal.

**********

A couple of days have passed and you barely have spent time in the castle, instead riding all day. Alicent haven’t told you what she has learned, yet the rumors were all around like flies. You knew she didn’t because she was trying to shield you, to spare you the pain, not to save Rhaenyra of shame.

On the the third day since the conversation between them, it was announced that you would be traveling to High Tide, to propose the marriage between your brother Laenor and Rhaenyra. It hasn’t even been a week yet and now this? Rhaenyra was becoming your sister? The Gods were being cruel to you, punishing you for your sins, most likely. You knew of Laenor’s nature, as he did yours. As a matter of fact, your parents also knew, Corlys only to waved it off describing them as “phases”.

Lord Lyonel Strong has been made the new Hand of the King, surely Rhaenyra had Ser Otto dismissed from his rank for filling her father’s ears with his denouncements. He has always been calculated, he wants a Hightower on the throne.

It was good to be back, home always offering some fresh air. Laena politely invited the guests in, in the courtyard was Laenor with Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, a good friend of yours too, and his closest “companion”. You hugged them tightly, no welcoming party for your father was one to hold grudges, since the King rejected both his offers to marry their daughters a rift has been set between House Velaryon and the Iron Throne, you never would have wed His Grace though, thanks the heavens he didn’t persuade it nor ponder about the it too much.

“It is so rare to see you on a boat.” Your mother jested. “You never grant Silverwing a break.” You tittered warmly.

“Wherever has Laena gone to?”

“She’s with Rhaenyra. They’re having breakfast. Wanna join them?”

“No, no. It’s fine, I’m not hungry. How’s Meleys?” You shifted awkwardly and changed the subject, staring at the sea.

“Are you okay, daughter?” She looked at you expectantly. “I know that your love for her runs deep. I’m your mother, dear. A mother knows her children’s heart. Don’t shun your emotions, my darling girl. There’s nothing to be embarrass of. This is what’s best for our Houses, for the Realm. Your brother will do a good consort, your father may take advantage for his pride, know that I do not. I care about your happiness as well, you’ll find a pretty lady, or a maiden, you’ll find someone for you to spend your life with. That in my bones I know. And your mother will support you no matter what.” Rhaenys embraced you firmly, pecking your forehead. How lucky you were to have her.

Laenor encountered you nearby the beach. He approached you.

“I’m not enthusiastic for this marriage, Y/N. Not more than you, or her. It does not mean anything, I have just talked to her… we’ve come to a mutual arrangement; we will perform our duty for our families, produce heirs… but otherwise we will both continue having our own private romantic relationships. It will be hard, painful even. I am sorry, Y/N, so so sorry.”

“If I was a man, I could wed her instead of you. Everything would be perfect. Everything. A secret behind close doors…- I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Joffrey agreed to it. Better than nothing, better to lose you. She is very keen to you, she claimed to love somebody, genuinely… she did not say who. But she assured it, she was referring to you, Y/N.”

“It is not your fault, Laenor. I… I’m doomed to feel the way I do. I wish I could get over her and go on with my life.” There was resentment in your voice, hurt.

He gave you an apologetic smile, and squeezed your hand in a comforting manner. You would care not for the Throne nor political station, but for taking her to wife, a sad, sad reality.

**********

You were prepared to set sail, this time your whole family attending the latest royal wedding. You couldn’t find sleep as usual and headed to the balcony of the castle. A turmoil, one you so wretchedly wanted to get rid of.

“You are very, very elusive, my lady.” Rhaenyra’s voice startled you, your only exit was jumping off the cliff. “I’ve been trying to locate you.”

“Princess.” Again, she looked gorgeous, her hair down on her shoulders.

“You didn’t show up. Are we back here again?” We shared that night together, we were one. And yet… I’m once more a stranger to you?” She spat, wounded by your actions as if you were the one to blame.

“You got what you wanted, Rhaenyra. You have no use for me now.”

“What? What are you talking about? I need you, Y/N. Now more than ever.” She strolled closer, attempting to caress you. You deflected, her touch would only ignite a further wildfire.

“You needed somebody to fuck with!”

“Has Alicent uttered her gossips again? She does that to tear us apart, she’s always aiming for that.”

“No, Rhaenyra. Alicent has nothing to do with this, drop it.”

“My lady… I’m so confused right now. I came to you because I did miss you, we were separated for too long it was time we reconciled. I still want you, Y/N. As much as I did when we were fifteen. Things have changed, I’m the heir to the Throne, I’m to marry your brother, who would have visualized any of this? There’s a role I got to fulfill now, something that’s bigger than both of us. But that does not mean that we cannot still be intimate, I spoke to Laenor about it and he’s agreed.”

“You want me as what, as a lover? A friend? A companion? A whore?” The last noun was a whack to Rhaenyra, a punch to her heart and an insult to her alone.

“You’re unbelievable.” She stormed out from the rooftop, leaving you sniveling, for the hundredth time.

**********

The long-awaited royal wedding ceremonies finally began; first a grand feast in the Red Keep, to be followed by seven days of tournaments and spectacle, culminating with the marriage ceremony. The Velaryons arrived on their dragons, Laenor on Seasmoke, Laena on the older Vaghar, and your mother Rhaenys on the Red Queen, Meleys. Meanwhile, your father Corlys, yourself and the full Velaryon fleet rolled in the harbour, (Silverwing was nesting on the Dragonpit) as the city's bells tolled out to greeting you for the festivities. Alicent saluted you warmly, taking in your accent, you reciprocated.

At the Great Hall; Viserys and Rhaenyra sat at the middle of the high table set up in front of the throne's base and received each group of Lords with their respective families. You decided to contrast your sibling’s outfits by wearing an imposing golden dress. At the high table you sat beside Rhaenys and Laena. Daemon appeared out of nowhere, but you paid no heed to him.

Shortly after, Alicent entered through the main doors, intentionally interrupting the King in the middle of his speech. She was dressing in a green gown, her features cold as ice.

You engaged in a cordial chat with some of the Tyrell acquaintances you’ve made while visting Highgarden, Rhaenyra and Laenor were on the dance floor sharing the first ball, couples following behind.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” The youngest son of Lord Tully submitted his hand to you, he was being a total gentleman, but the glare Rhaenyra sent his way shot to kill.

You flown graciously side by side to her, cursing your pace, she saw this a good opportunity to whisper with audacity; Issi ao naejot sagon bisa āeksio’s, līve pār? (Are you to be this lord’s whore, then?) Rhaenyra taunted you, thanks the Gods no one there understood Valyrian, you didn’t get the chance to defend yourself at her boldly rudeness when you were swapped to dance with Laenor.

“You’ll have dozens of suitors after my wedding, dear sister. I bet none of them will be as infatuated with you as the Green Queen herself.” You poked him softly, he chortled. From across the room, Alicent was staring at you in awe, she was drooling and she care not to camouflage it.

However, you got distracted when you observed Rhaenyra and Daemon speaking to one another awfully close, it angered you, how dare them? Your blood boiling ever hotter when he grabbed harshly her cheeks, in an attempt to kiss her. The entire Hall was interrupted by a piercing cry from a different part of the feast floor.

A brawl has broken out in the packed room, but it became clear that at the center of it Criston Cole has begun pummeling Joffrey Lonmouth. Your brother managed to struggle his way through to them and tackled Criston off Joffrey, but Criston rose and punched out Laenor, resuming his aggressive punches. You watched from afar, having reached the high table, you spotted Rhaenyra being carried in the arms of Harwin Strong, you sighed but worried for your brother. That fucker murdered your brother’s lover and no one did nothing to seize him.

As the result of it, some hours later, all of the guests have been ordered out and King Viserys has cancelled the seven days of festivities and games leading to the wedding ceremony. Instead, determined to finish this as quickly as possible, Viserys called in the High Septon to wed Rhaenyra and Laenor in a private exchange of vows in front of their respective parents and close advisors, you among them of course, too shocked for the queer behavior of that “knight” (if he can be considered as that anymore). They were proclaimed husband and wife, Rhaenyra pretended you were not there, your heart breaking for the whole situation, and for the loss of your friend and your brother’s paramount. Alicent in the other corner with Viserys, he dropped to the floor in a full faint. They are not to consummate their marriage tonight, that was unquestionable.

**********

You felt nauseous, tossing and turning, you wanted to go flying but Silverwing was most certainly napping, you didn’t want to bother her just because you were a mess, again. The way Daemon and Rhaenyra were interacting with each other, you were repulsed by his fucking cockiness in her fucking wedding, her disrespectful and degrading comment. Recalling not so long ago she was in a brothel with him doing the Gods know what, jealousy, anger, sadness… all flooding you. And to make matters worse, she was officially married to Laenor, how were you to endure it? She didn’t fight for you, didn’t show you more than lust. It was too much, simply too much.

You got out of your chambers and found yourself on the Queen’s quarters, fortunately the King was beyond worn out from today to request her, you didn’t bother on waiting for Ser Harold to announce your presence, you shouted for her. “My Queen! My Queen!” You alarmed her and she was confused as to why would you be yelling her name this tardy.

“Ser Harold, you may go. Lady Y/N, come on in.” He did as instructed, you walked inside, she scowled, was she angry now too?

“Would you slap me if I were to kiss you right now, your Grace?” You cut to the chase. “May I?” Already breathing her in.

“You may.”

You pulled Alicent to you, pressed her mouth to yours, she was indeed mad, for Criston has told her he eavesdropped the night the accusation of the Princess and her uncle transpired, he longed for her as well, so out of range, by the brief chat he had with Ser Joffrey, and the constant rejection of the Princess, he had a breakdown. Alicent’s heart broke too, but in all honesty she saw it coming, she was only relived neither of you could get the other one with child, yet her hatred for Rhaenyra only grew darker. Alicent loathed Rhaenyra, but she did not despised you, on the contrary, she adored you with all her might, she was sick of being repressed by her feelings, by her “sins”, that she bursted and kissed you back like she’s never kissed anyone before.

She undressed more than her body to you, she demonstrated all the things she’s been feeling since you were on dragonback together, not a speck of regret in her. She was shy at first, way too unexperienced unlike the Princess, altogether she find out women are the only ones that make her feel this way. Never one of breaking vows, that night she stopped being a wife, a queen, she was a teenage girl making love with the one she loved, and you, you took her as she was, a mother of two, the consort of the King, a childhood friend. You were to discover your feelings for her, and it wasn’t like you were using her to get the Targaryen Princess out of your system… for it was impossible. It was all connected, but that night you made sure to reciprocate all that Alicent felt for you, and it wasn’t one sided at all.

#game of thrones fic #got #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen x reader#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower x reader #alicent x reader #alicent hightower #the blacks #the greens #the blacks vs the greens

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