#Adventurer Conqueror King | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ewanmitchelll · 4 months

Text

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (X): Long Live.

Imagine you are transported to the past… instants before the legendary battle between Aemond and his uncle Daemon Targaryen occurs. What will you do? Part I.

Warnings: drama, angst, smut—fluff; loosely based on “Outlander”.

Warnings 2: alternative universe concerning the end of “GOT”’s season 8 where Daenerys lives and Jon Snow never killed her, with a more modern take.

Warnings 3: long post.

***

• Current days.

With the war coming to an end and the recent coronation of Queen Daenerys, your life has finally returned to what it used to be… before the threat of the Others, when you were forced to flee from Winterfell to go down South and live with your uncle and aunt all the whilst the rest of your family decided to move to Sunspear, in Dorne.

You start a new life at King’s Landing, taking a course at the Westerosi University, making new friends and even finding a few dates for yourself.

“We should definitely head to Aegon’s Hill”, your friend Margaery says. “There’s a very mystical place, abandoned after the Usurper fell”, she adds in reference to Cersei Lannister’s death by treason.

You hesitate, but what’s there to lose? Security has been restored thanks to the joint efforts of Queen Daenerys and her King Consort, Jaehaerys II after years of civil war plus the madness coming from the north.

“We should celebrate there”, another friend named Lyna adds.

And that is how it all begins. But who could tell what was going to happen?

In the first hours of the morning next you, already dressed in red, black stripes pants and a white, winter like blouse, get your fundamental things in your backpack with an adventure feeling you cannot get rid off.

“And here we go”, you mumble to yourself after getting some coffee.

You hear the sound of a “beeeee”, and you know it’s Margery on the car. You wave a quick goodbye from your aunt and uncle before dropping into it.

“Don’t get yourself too late at home!”, you hear your aunt yelling over her shoulder.

You laugh quietly before yelling back:

“When have I ever failed you?”

And so you are driven all the way to Aegon’s hill, singing a random song seconded by your girl friends.

“I feel so excited about going there”, you, usually the quiet one, find yourself chatty this morning. Is the coffee the cause of it? Maybe. “I was reading about it and rumour has it there are a few enchantments surrounding the stone blocks that remain still.”

“You can’t honestly believe this shit”, Lyna reclines back the backseat and gives you a look. “It’s all mythical. Stories tell us that that hill received the Conqueror’s name because that was where he flew with the great Balerion.”

“But before his arrival there used to be the spot of ancient religions that turned such spot one very meaningful for their practices and all. Aegon himself kept it, aware of its importance”, you honestly don’t know what’s with you, but part of you likes the mysterious aura that place has.

“There is also a legend dated from the days of the Blackfyre rebellion that if you are not careful enough you can be tossed into the past”, says Margaery.

“How past that is, one wonders”, Lyna muses, eventually taking in the idea.

“That depends. The three eyed crow could tell… but it’s been said the man was killed by the Night King.”

You tilt your head as if pondering what the girls are talking about.

“I still can’t believe he died during the war”, you muse out loud.

“He sacrificed for the realm. Apparently he always knew that.”

No one dares to say anything. The Great War is still a sensitive topic to many and your group isn’t an exception to it. Eventually, however, you manage to get to the hill.

It’s large and surrounded by very ancient stones indeed. The beauty in its mysticism makes all the more alluring to you. Something so captivating calls you and, distracted, as if you have been hypnotized, you attend it.

In baby steps you walk, ignoring the bubbling of your friends. A soft hymn, as if played by a harp, is heard.

“Do you hear this, girls?”, you turn at them, missing the mist that rises from nowhere.

But they seem unable to hear you. You try to reach them, especially when the sound of an earthquake scares the hell out of you. You grip tightly the stone, or try to, but it’s when everything spins and you scream.

When your friends turn at you, you are no longer there.

***

• Days of War

I said remember this moment in the back of my mind. The time we stood with our shaking hands. The crowds in stands went wild…

A thunder scratches through the black clouds, roaring it violently. It only announces bad omens. Men paint the soil with their blood in red all the whilst dragons rip skies in cursed fighting.

As it starts to rain, Aemond Targaryen prepares to fight his bitter enemy, confident that he will bring victory to his side. Rhaenyra has been suffering with many losses, betrayals, no one believes her cause anymore.

Dressed in dark green leather, he doesn’t mind the rain that soaks his long silver hair. A twisted, evil smirk is seen as he rests his hand over his sword sheath.

“And here we go, Vhagar”, he mumbles when climbing Aegon’s hill where his dragon, the legendary beast that followed Balerion and Meraxes in the conquest of Westeros many moons ago, awaits.

But it’s precisely when seeing Vhagar agitated and spitting fire that has Aemond startled. What could be the cause of its state? He is ready to run to it when he sees… you.

A scared woman in what he judges to be in her mid 20’s has just tumbled before him. Dressing in strange clothes, your hair is soaked and you shake. You are bloody scared, he can tell, and in other circumstances he’d shoo you away.

However, you not only possess strange objects he’d never seen, but something else that captures his attention. And when you see who’s the man that stands right before you… you remember your history lessons.

And you scream.

Right before you pass out.

“What the fuck?”, Aemond breathes heavily, wide eyed gazing at you. Part of him tells to leave you there, but another cannot. Curiosity takes the best so he forgets the battle for now and carries you with him. “Vhagar, it appears we are delaying the freaking encounter this day. For now.”

Not in the best of the moods, he is, however, intrigued by you. As he flies with you to his secretive spot—away from Alys, he keeps it in mind—, he wonders about your whereabouts and why you dress such unusual clothing. And what’s this object you carry behind your back? A product of witchcraft perhaps?

He narrows his eyes, suspiciously so. But in the midst of this long term war, one thing is for sure: you have brought him back the inquisitiveness that he’s long lost…

***

When you open your eyes, it takes you a few minutes to realize where you are… and when realizing that your clothes are changed, you are forced to acknowledge that whatever happened the day before was not a dream.

You begin to panic when you see your surroundings. You are in a large, comfortable bed with lamb skin made blankets over your frame. The furniture is not as modern as the one your aunt has in her household.

You swallow hard, scanning still your eyes s modest desk, and a simple window. All of this makes you miss the discreet presence of Lord Aemond, who’d been watching you from the side of the chamber you haven’t noticed yet.

“I wonder the cause behind your astonishment”, his husky voice breaks the silence in such a powerful way that you nearly jump out of the bed, which makes the prince amused.

Never before had you stood a royal before, even if this man is not the kindest of his station. You force yourself to remember your history lessons and behave in the most natural way possible.

Therefore you stand and dip into what you judge a careful curtsy. Aemond’s eyebrows are raised, arms folded. But he is no fool.

“You are not from here”, he continues. “Who are you? A very weird spy sent by my dear sister to distract me?”

In other circumstances you’d have laughed out loud. But you are too frightened to do that. Aemond sees you are shaking, a clear sign of fear.

“Well? Has the cat eaten your tongue, my lady?”, he sighs heavily, not the most patient of men.

“I… No, lord. I am not”, never before you’ve been thankful for learning the ways of nobility, aware few of the etiquette has altered in the course of centuries. “I… I am not your sister’s partisan.”

Aemond can tell you speak the truth, but he approaches you, shortening the distance between you two. Then he shows you your backpack and all the things there are still inside.

“What are these then? Are you a witch, lady? Has my sister bought you so you could use such witchcraft against us, against me?”

Part of you finds ridiculous how this is going. Another is trying not to laugh at the face of danger. The reasonable self there is still in you prevails by masking your sentiments, reminding that you need to conquer this man’s trust if you want to go back home.

“If I tell you, lord, you will not believe me”, you opt for the truth. If the prince has long decided to burn you, then what does it matter?

Aemond is surprised by the moment you lift your eyes. Something about your gaze shakes his heart, as if bringing the tempest within. He ignores the shiver that now runs over his spine.

“Try me”, he commmands you to.

“I must have your word that you shall not burn me.”

The prince side smirks at you.

“Do I have the reputation of slaying ladies or sending them to death? Believe me, my lady, my mistress has been associated with dark magic and here I stand.”

Without thinking twice, though, the following words roll out of your tongue:

“But you are renowned as the kinslayer. That speaks for itself.” It’s only then you know you’ve angered the prince. Shit. “I’m sorry, lord.”

“You are my prisoner”, Aemond snaps back at you. “Bear in mind you need my favour if you have any love for your life.”

Your eyes are puddled with tears. Once too proud, you slide to your knees and beg him for your life.

“Lord, I’ve been a victim of witchcraft. I’ve been casted here, that is the truth and only truth. I come from the future and there is where I belong. I’ve never meant to stay in your way. I beg you to spare me, we have no cause for otherwise.”

Aemond’s good eye is slightly wide. He can tell, being a good observer, that you are not lying even if his reason cannot conceive it. On the other hand, what surprises him more is the way you are begging him. He’d taken you as a proud woman. The scene now disconcerts him.

“I must depart. I am needed and…”

You know you should not meddle in the past, aware of the consequences. This is a bad reputed prince, the chronicles helped making you dislike him greatly. However, you depend on him in going back to Aegon’s Hill. Therefore…

“Don’t go. You will die.”

Aemond’s eyebrows raise epically.

“What? Listen to me, young lady. Whomever you may be, sent by my sister or not, you shall better hold your tongue.”

Oh this couldn’t go any worse, could it? You sigh heavily.

“And then what? I need you, lord, to find my way back home. If you die today, I’ll be stuck in here for good.”

“Perhaps then I should have left you to Alys.”

“No!”, something about your cry scares the untamed prince. “Lord, please. I…”

A moment of silence. Neither could believe in what is going right before their eyes. You, stuck in the middle of another war; him, in the presence of what he judges to be a product of witchcraft.

“How should I address my lady?” Aemond opts to begin again.

And when you soften, so does he.

“Y/N, lord.”

“Y/N, I am Aemond Targaryen. Looks like there’s so much to catch on…”

To change the fate of Westeros, he stays.

***

The night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same. You held your head like a hero on a history book page. It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age.

Aemond’s good eye studies you as you eat like you haven’t been fed for ages. Your hair is still hanging lose behind your back and you are still wearing a pair of delicate earrings he’d never seen before, but all else makes you look like a woman of his own times.

“So the enchantments of Aegon’s Hill are true”, he muses, breaking the silence as he takes a sip of his wine.

“They are, lord.”

“But never heard of a case where they had… succeeded, in fact.” He tilts his head. “What proof can you give me you are actually from there?”

“My objects aren’t proof enough?”

This silences the prince for now.

“I do not think wise to meddle in these events”, you say in turn. “Lord knows what that’d be like for my own days.”

Aemond is intrigued as he watches you pale. Then curiosity knocks his pride out.

“What’s like? The future?”

You wonder if you should tell him. As if he reads you, Aemond adds:

“Eventually I die. I am not asking you how. But your days, lady, I want to know. How better are they from mine?”

Sadness sparks behind your y/c eyes, a sight that inspires sympathy on him.

“Worse, I dare say. I was first raised in a long civil war. And then… another came, worse still. I really have no words to put it.”

“I cannot conceive a war worst than civil war”, says Aemond. “But another civil war bled Westeros?”

“Yes”, you try not to speak too much.

“Fuck”, Aemond grumbles under his breath. “All of this… for nothing?”

Not knowing what to say, you choose silence. And not knowing how to react, Aemond breathes in frustration. He decides to leave you.

And you end up that evening alone. But early next morning, Aemond, too intrigued with your presence to remember to fight his enemies, paces anxiously around the castle. He must know, he needs to know. And when waiting becomes unbearable, you show up.

Dressed in a blue velvet gown, you look properly like a lady of these times even though you cannot mask well your discomfort. Aemond’s own thoughts disappear before the sight of you, feeling so lost, so… out of place.

“My lady”, he doesn’t admit how taken aback he is by your beauty. “I pray you have slept better this night.”

“Not really, I’m afraid”, and your red eyes are a clear sign of how you actually spent your night. Aemond frowns at that, preoccupied. “I shall make my mission taking you home… after the battle that awaits me.”

You should not care, but you feel disconcerted by his presence. The way he looks at you says all.

“I cannot convince you otherwise”, you sigh. “Can you at least leave me at Aegon’s Hill, though?”

A request that defies your sanity, you know well. One that poses your boldly despair very clear. But you are now a survivor struggling to live in such a strange world.

However, Aemond is not willing to let go easily of you. Inspired by mixed feelings, he says:

“You are my prisoner now, remember? I shall keep your secret”, he approaches you slow, shortening the distance between the two of you. “Just tell me how to beat my uncle, how to win this war.”

“Oh Lords”, you find support in the wall. “What kind of question is that? In one moment you…”

“Just tell me!”, Aemond cuts you, rather impatiently.

“I cannot! Lord, if I do, the world I know my disappear.”

He realizes the dilemma you are. Confused by all of this mess, Aemond hesitates.

“Just stay here until I come back.”

Without waiting for any response, there he leaves you, but not to fight Daemon Targaryen. Not now. And you weep because this is all you can do for now.

***

You try to leave the castle, disguised as a peasant, but your plan comes to fail when Aemond comes back and from above, he spots a strange figure running through the woods.

Now here you are, a prisoner again. This time the prince is in a better mood.

“You are really trying to get away of me. In other circumstances, I’d be mad at you for this bluntness”, he muses, offering you wine as you sit in front of the fireplace.

You shoot him a glare, not saying anything.

“What am I to you but a toy so you can play?” Desperation hits a different tone and before you know you burst into tears, swiping away his mug smirk.

After a while, Aemond comes to his senses. He reluctantly takes your hand and when both of you see fingers intertwining, a different heat seems to rise.

“I lament profoundly to cause you pain, lady Y/N”, says he. “But this is who I am. Shouldn’t you know that?”

“I believed in other men’s judgement where you are concerned, but now…”

“Now what?”, he asks, somewhat anxious.

“Now I know in the hard way we should be better than be led by prejudices.”

Aemond leans back in his chair, thoughtful. You realize he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Wise words, lady Y/N.” And then he muses. “I died, didn’t I? We lost this war, didn’t we?”

You avoid his gaze, opting for silence. But your silence screams unspoken words that reach the Prince’s heart. And he sighs, in between melancholy and resignation.

***

The following days you are not entitled as the lord Aemond’s prisoner any longer. Showing some colours in the horizon, hope stands as he presents you as the illegitimate daughter of some nobleman loyal to the green house who’d been deceased in the previous battles.

With a more convincing background, you are better instructed by maids of his trust in the manners of the times. Soon, you are offered a place to serve Queen Helaena.

It’s when you remember that droll tragedy.

“Oh no!”

Aemond raises his eye at you.

“What makes you deny this privilege any lady would kill to earn?”

You blush.

“I mean to say…”, you struggle with words, “I am unfit for such a position.”

“Allow me to disagree with you”, Aemond smiles and suddenly the view pleases your heart very much. “There shall be a ball on behalf of my sister’s birthday this weekend.”

“Will we dance?”, you blurt it out before you realize.

Aemond’s cheeks go pink at your spontaneity.

“Dance, you say”, he muses thoughtfully. “I am no dancer, my lady.”

“We are performers in life. Therefore anyone can be a dancer.”

“Quite a wit you possess”, says he in reluctant admittance. “Very well. If it pleases my lady…”

One smile is enough to turn tables.

“It does.”

And a new fate is sealed.

***

“It doesn’t feel like you are an outsider”, so mumbles Aemond to you alone as you two dance amidst courtiers.

It’s a sweet melody, cheerful somewhat in its beat, certainly bringing many presents a smile on their faces. The Dowager Queen looks pleased and delighted, entertained by her twins. One look at them and you are remembered by the upcoming events.

Oh, the burden of knowing too much. You swallow the bitter thought as you dance with the rogue prince. Earlier the Queen, who had welcomed you in the merriest of the moods, had said no one but a traveler could bring a man as her brother to dance. Her remark, not taken seriously by many, did manage to leave you uncomfortable. After all, you forgot that she had the Targaryen ability of possessing dreams.

“How come?”, you inquire, and it doesn’t take long before your gaze meets his.

He doesn’t strike you as the villain.

“You fit here just fine”, Aemond whispers in response.

As you twirl, hands barely touching his, you feel you are about to fall right into the trap.

“Do you think so?” And then you flash him a mischievous smirk. “Who’d ever thought we could get along?”

“Who, indeed?”

And then the dance comes to an end. Aemond takes your hand and bows, as you curtsy. But when he presses his lips against your skin, your heart races.

It appears you found your hero, after all.

***

Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you. I was screaming, "Long live all the magic we made” and bring on all the pretenders. One day we will be remembered…

It’s late night. Aemond’s thoughts are only on the strange woman who was tossed out of time and space to go straight to the core of the civil war that will be known in posterity as dance of dragons.

He’s been so captivated that he’s long forsaken Mistress Rivers and his obsession in defeating his sworn enemy, his own uncle Daemon Targaryen. Therefore he decides to go after you. Covered by the shadows of night with only the guidance of faint candlelights, he soon finds your bedchambers.

There is hesitation at first. His own thoughts are confused, his heart hammers in silent agony. There is half hope, half atonement in his heart beat.

Nevertheless, he came too far to stop now. So he knocks at long last.

There is no answer at first. And then…

“My lord Aemond”, you are surprised to find him on the other side of the door. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Despite the admonishment in your words, he can tell there is amusement in your eyes.

“Aye. But I couldn’t find myself able to sleep. And neither could you.”

A faint blush paints your cheeks, earning him his typical smirk.

“I wonder if the same thought has been the cause of our restless nights”, he begins, eyeing you up and down, much to your discomfort.

Dressed in your long white nightgown with your hair down in your back, you look as ethereal as your background. There is beauty, but there is also something unknown in your aura. There is a connection between you two.

And you, on the other hand, are more than familiar with the rules of those days you are now inserted. However, are you able to resist this man?

You wait, though. Maybe you’ve figured this out in the wrong way?

“Your silence mortifies me, lady”, Aemond sighs impatiently. “Is this not evidence enough of how I came to love you?”

Your eyes go wide and you almost drop the candle you’ve been holding.

“Aemond… I am hardly the most appropriate woman for you.”

“Titles and lands are nothing for me”, he responds anxiously.

It’s when he takes your free hand into his, locking fingers at last. To feel his warm skin against yours, colder by comparison, gives goosebumps and small shocks as a result. You fear that you are about to lose your control.

“Aemond…”

He steps forward, saying nothing until he closes the door behind him and puts the candle somewhere safe. Only then he holds you against him and finally kisses you like you’ve never been kissed.

And indeed you have never experienced the firm grasp of a man, the decisions of one confident who knows what he wants. You could have never imagined that one of the kind exists and could desire you this much.

Worse perhaps is to discover how long you’ve been dreaming about this. As his lips clash into yours, your morals die unheard. You let him reclaim you, shuddering under his intense grip, his burning touch.

Before you could do anything, though, Aemond lies you on your bed, lifting your skirts to your waist and then…

“Oh, Lord!”, you whimper out loud. “Aemond…!”

This is certainly the best experience you’ve had. And so easily your legs get heavy, that heat comes down your belly and you… burn.

You want to pull him over you, but the messy prince flashes you a side smirk, dropping by your side.

“Do you honestly believe I shall deflower my lady in a most ungallant manner?”, he chuckles as he watches you frown in frustration.

You raise your eyebrows. You hesitate in whether telling him about your previous experiences. Unwise it may be to be honest, but worse is to ignore your conscience’s voice.

“My prince, as much as I appreciate your kindness and respect to me…”

He furrows his eyebrows.

“In my days these matters have changed significantly”, and then you are quick to add. “It doesn’t mean I’ve had plenty of others, though.”

You give up justifying yourself when you watch Aemond struggle with comprehending your point. Eventually, however, he cedes the battle and says:

“I am not an example of morality, I suppose. Even so I stand what I said.”

Your face lightens up.

“You cannot honestly mean…”

“…that I intend to espouse you?”, Aemond scoffs. “Of course I do. It’s a better way to protect you, by the way. These are trying times, my lady.”

That being said, you cuddle onto him, forgetting completely there is a bloody civil war outside and that you are not studying the period anymore, but living it at its fullest.

***

It is often remarked how to achieve peace one must be prepared for war. And in war, few are familiar with good sense.

Whatever are your thoughts about it, your first taste of tragedy comes in the form of revenge. You are just going back from a stroll outdoors at the gardens when screams get at you.

As you rush to the indoors, you are prevented by Aemond.

“You should be better left out of this. Let me resolve it.”

“No”, you protest. “Aemond, I…”

But he isn’t listening. He leaves you there, as if you are a ghost haunting the castle. Your eyes start to get teary as you realize what part all of this is about.

You cover your ears as the screams continue endlessly, echoing in a kind of pain that you’ve been familiar once. The sounds awake old traumas, opening wounds long thought to be healed.

You can’t stay in there. Useless you feel, therefore you motion outdoors. All you do is walk. Perhaps this is the better time to go to Aegon’s Hill. You want to go home, you don’t want to spend any more time there…

However, once you do, you are prevented from doing so by Aemond. The rogue prince, paled with angst, is perplexed at the thought of you gone. Despaired, he comes after you, thankfully not needing to reach Vhagar for that purpose.

“I cannot stay here”, you tell him, body shaking in evident signs of trauma. “Please, take me home.”

“Y/N…”

“Please! I don’t belong here, Aemond!”

“Yes, you do. You belong with me”, he cups your cheeks and then reading your eyes, he denudes your soul, almost if by chance he has a glimpse of the future through you. “Whatever happened there… and whatever happened here are not who you are. Listen to me, Y/N. It’s you and I against the world. I am honestly sorry these are the circumstances we are now in, but we must be brave.”

There are so many words but none leaves your mouth. Aemond embraces you, rocking you in his arms.

“You already knew what was going to happen”, he is not asking a question. “But this is not the reaction one might’ve expected. You are also a survivor… of war. Bloody seven hells, Y/N. I’m very sorry, my lady.”

You melt in his embrace, sobbing as the nightmare of leaving everything behind in the midst of panic and fear strikes you again. You’ve never seen yourself as a survivor, until now.

“Come inside”, he asks you gently. “Don’t go now. Please.”

Never before he was seen vulnerable, but then again so are you. It had been a while since your wounds were so crudely open, left to bleed in such a painful manner. You’d think you overcame it, but not entirely as you’d like to believe.

Here you are, however, comforted by this character whom you were taught to hate all thanks to the chroniclers that registered his bad deeds. Although he may have done such, and you won’t find excuse for his bad reputation, he’s so much more than that, than words written by thirds.

He’s your prince. He’s your hero and you shall not think anymore of it.

***

After these dark days are gone, sun rises in paradise again. Aemond invites you to fly Vhagar with him.

The decision comes after Rhaenyra and her husband Daemon are put off the show for now. The greens hold victory for now, and even you forget the upcoming events.

“I cannot fly her!”, you shake at the thought. “Do you want to see me dead?”

Aemond laughs heartily and the sound of it melts your heart and soothes your mind. He twirls you around him before holding you against his chest.

“Do you trust in me so little that I’d let you slip so easily?”

You giggle.

“I am just not a brave woman you might expect me to be”, so you say, drowning in that good purple eye.

“Oh, dearest. You are a lot braver than you’d judge.”

Saying so, he kisses you on the lips, and you save his taste as you gladly return it.

I said remember this feeling. I passed the pictures around of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines wishing for right now. We are the kings and the queens. You traded your baseball cap for a crown

You cast him a long loving glance as the prince holds your hand, giving you side smirk before leading the way to Vhagar. This ancient beast, a companion to the Westerosi conquest two other Valyrian dragons, seems to read you the moment your gazes meet.

A sight too frightening to behold, one you’ve seen before the moment you were tossed in this time and space. You recollect the fear that shook your bones and froze your reason and this seems to happen again.

“Don’t be afraid. She knows you are with me”, says Aemond in a nonchalant manner.

You nod your head, but Aemond feels your body shaking. He gently pulls you against him and in a matter of seconds you are suddenly mounting that legendary creature.

“Holy cow!”, you scream.

The silver haired prince laughs quietly, before whispering the words in Valyrian to Vhagar start to fly.

“Calm down, love. Don’t be fearful, it’s worse if you do.”

“I am no dragon rider, Aemond”, you snap at him, eyes going wide as Vhagar begins to rise higher, flying in an incredible speed—fast enough according to your judgement and lack of experience where dragons are concerned, not entirely fast when comparing Vhagar to younger dragons like Caraxes, for example.

But all Aemond does is laugh away your fears. He takes your hands, holding them as he shows he’s commanding the situation. Despite your fears, the adrenaline comes at it and so suddenly you are flying higher than getting an airplane to Dorne.

“AEMOND!”

The silver haired finds adorable the way you trust him, holding onto him as if your life depends on him. But he knows you are overcoming a fear of heights and this only grows his admiration of you.

Eventually though, as if Vhagar is sensing your fear, she slows down and only then she settles in a pace that doesn’t fight you. It’s when you risk patting her back, stroking your delicate fingers over the asperity of the creature’s skin.

“Remember this feeling”, he whispers in your ear. “This is what freedom is like. This is what it means to never let anyone hold the reins of your life.”

“I see the lights of Westeros shining for us”, you don’t even know what you are thinking, but these words seem to make sense for you.

“They are”, Aemond spots the fire pits in towers where orange flames wipe away the fog that instaure that evening. “But you shine the brighter, my dear.”

You blush violently at his words. Never before you felt so loved and understood. Slightly turning your head, and locking gazes with him, you tell this silver haired prince open words regarding your heart.

“I love you, Aemond. Truthfully, I do. I only shine brighter because of you.”

His wide gaze shows no emotion, perhaps skeptical about the genuine feeling you put in them. But Aemond knows you are sincere and this moves him more than he admits.

Locking his arms around you, he kisses you before saying:

“I love you.”

And this is enough for you.

***

You are married in secrecy to a man whom history despises being the kinslayed. His vices are listed perpetually in dust parchments, used as propaganda to disperse any honesty there might’ve colored the shades of the green party that ruled Westeros for a short period of time.

But you see his virtues that no chronicler bothered to see and those overcome the former in a colorful prism of human being.

Daeron Targaryen, his younger brother, is the only witness of the ceremony.

“Welcome to the family, my lady Y/N. In other circumstances, this would be a merry and most favorable occasion.”

“My brother, this matters little. I appreciate the warm wishes, though, and I bet better days are about to come.”

Aemond is pleased to see how well you and his family get along. When one lives history, easily it is to forget it. And so it goes.

When you are taken to his privy chambers, who’d think this was when history is about to change?

“You look so beautiful. Astonishingly so.”

“You make sparks fly”, you smile at him, taken by handsomeness, hands stroking his long silver hair before holding his face. “I adore you, my prince.”

It starts slowly. Your tongue pairs perfectly with his, in one same passionate rhythm. Only then impatience rises when the heat begins to burn.

Your hands start to undress him, automatically moving down to his leather pants.

“Let me show you my devotion”, you break the kiss to whisper in his ear.

Aemond hisses under his breath, eyes closed as he already reacts to your caresses. Your lips leave traces of warm kisses from his neck to his shoulders, going down to his belly and then… you kneel to say your prayers.

But he is now devouring you like a hungry man, starving for your soul. His lips on your nipples do wonderfulness. You roll your eyes, moaning softly as your hands play with his hair.

When his skillful fingers find way to your core, you know you are lost. Aemond smirks at how loud you can be, this arousing him further.

“Hmm, my darling”, he raises to meet your mouth, clashing it in a fervent kiss, therefore muffling your lustful cries.

And right as you come undone, he doesn’t wait any longer. Sliding right inside you, you open your eyes, somewhat pleasantly surprised by his intensity.

“Aemond!”

He could not tell whether you are moaning or complaining.

“Yes?”, he groans as starts to move inside you.

“You… are… so… fucking good!”

The prince laughs at your cursing.

“My lady, watch your tongue”, says he in such a malicious way that you feel you could come undone right now.

“Aemond, you devil”, you whimper, legs locked as you begin to move as one.

He smiles down at you, holding your hands above your head. As you kiss, you meet a heavenly bliss.

***

War, however, comes back in unsafe and soundly steps. You, merged in domestic happiness, allowed yourself to forget that in great delights await greater sorrows.

Thirty days after your marriage, to your surprise you find yourself conceived. You want to tell him in the ways your prince likes: flying Vhagar. By now you and this ancient beast have somehow gotten used to each other’s presence.

“May we fly together this evening, husband?”, you ask him, trying not to sound too eager.

Aemond somehow senses you are different. But he cannot tell what exactly is.

“For someone who feared Vhagar, you’ve become quite a dragonrider.”

This day you are breaking fast with your husband’s family, now pleasantly aware of your secret matrimony, notwithstanding Ser Otto’s initial disapproval.

You giggle quietly.

“That is what marrying to you means, is it not?”

Aemond laughs quietly.

“Why, my darling, I could never refuse you anything.”

“Just be mindful you two”, muses the Dowager Queen Alicent, distracted. “It’s cloudy today.”

***

May these memories break our fall. Will you take a moment? Promise me this. That you'll stand by me forever. But if, God forbid, fate should step in and force us into a goodbye, if you have children someday when they point to the pictures. Please tell them my name. Tell them how the crowds went wild. Tell them how I hope they shine…

How could you know what was about to happen then? You are excited to share the news, believing this is the best scenario you could’ve pictured.

Dressed in proper robes, you follow Aemond excitedly and when greeting Aemond with your characteristically sweetness, he snorts and says:

“Who could’ve known we’d come to this? You turned my dragon war in domesticated dog, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes at his teasing.

“Don’t be silly, Aemond. She needs love and caring like every animal”, you smile. “As well as respect.”

“I wonder at times if you are real.”

You turn your head slightly at him as you two prepare to ride.

“Why wouldn’t I be, my love? You are my husband, or am I mistaken? Have you been with Mistress Rivers ag…”

He interrupts you by kissing you passionately. And right there Vhagar roars through the air. You feel as if you’ve been electrified. And the look in your face awakes the best of him.

“I love you, woman.”

But every happiness dies when skies grow darker and Vhagar’s roar sounds different. Aemond frowns his eyebrows.

“Shit. There’s something wrong”, he is quickly alert.

You, focused in telling him about your state, begin to grow afflicted when remembering that that battle between him and Daemon Targaryen didn’t happen the way it should.

You interfered.

Fuck.

“Aemond, honey…”

Wind blows colder, it announces storm. He begins to drive Vhagar lower, flying higher as darkness sweeps away the last rays of light. You try not to panic, but by the looks on your prince, you are promptly a victim to it.

“I’ve ruined everything. I shouldn’t be here. I messed all.”

“Don’t say that”, Aemond doesn’t have a clue of what you are trying to say, but he is already familiar with your background to prevent your insecurity to meddle in it. “You have been the best thing to happen to me…”

Before you have the time to answer him, a different roar echoes through the thundering clouds.

You know where it comes from. You know the one behind him.

And you are at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

“Aemond!”

“Nothing will happen to you, this I swear”, but then he adds, without looking at you. “If, however, something happens to me…”

“Don’t!”

He continues as if you hadn’t protested.

“…never forget how you turned me into a better man. I am unworthy of the Seven Heavens, but I tasted a bit of sacred forgiveness when you loved me. You redeemed me of my sins, my lady, even when I was a miserable. Move on as you should. But never forget me. Or us.”

“Aemond!”, you cry because you remember the result of this battle, and worse is now the effect of his words. “I love you!”

There is so much to be said, but you cannot. Time steals you from him. As Aemond and Daemon faces each other, the prince tries to find a way to save you.

However, no dragon flees from battle. But because Caraxes is faster, it soon attacks Vhagar. It’s right here that, above Aegon’s hill, every shadow eclipses the sun.

It’s right here that in midst of it all, you fall. It happens too fast. Aemond is trying to fly away, but Vhagar doesn’t obey him again. It soon responds Daemon’s Caraxes offense with another.

But when Vhagar gets bitten in the neck, the ancient dragon loses balance for a moment and right here a storm wind knocks you out.

Aemond screams, trying to save you, but you refuse to be saved. You are still in tears, judging to see him attacked by Daemon when the spells of time engulf you.

‘These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die like fire and powder…’

To be continue…

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #house targaryen #prince Aemond Targaryen #lord Aemond Targaryen #lord Aemond #aemond targaryen smut #taylor swift #speak now (taylor’s version)#long live

78 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 1 year

Text

When Fire Meets Fate

Part 5

Request: Yes or No

~~~

He watched the rain belt against his window, the sound echoing in his ears. The weather heavily reflected his sisters' mood for King Viserys had stripped their father of his title and sent him back to Oldtown. The news had replayed over and over in his head. Rhaenyras' promise, the knowing look in her eye before she entered the carriage. She'd gotten rid of his father but her freedom as an eligible lady had been taken. His father hadn't been lying when he'd spoken of Ser Laenor. But better him than a Lannister. He found peace in knowing she'd wed someone she knew well.

(Y/N) turned his head when the doors creaked and his sister entered the room, water dripping from her hair and onto her face. Her skin had been covered in a light sheen, the rain having turned her dress a shade darker. "Alicent.." He breathed, moving from the window and to his bed. He pulled one of the smaller blankets from it and approached her but she shoved his arms away, eyes filled with tears.

"You should've been there." She hiccuped. "You should've been there to bid him farewell before his journey." The trip to Oldtown would be a long one, filled with many stops and roads. But their family, their father, had made the journey countless times before. Otto knew the way well enough to avoid danger, they both knew that.

"He'll be fine, Alicent." He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, rubbing the fabric against her arms. Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he led her to the fireplace and sat her down on one of the chairs, hand stroking the back of her soaked head. Alicent wiped at her wet cheeks with the blanket, staring into the crackling fire.

"Father told me you knew about Rhaenyras' ventures," Alicent revealed quietly. "What did she tell you?" Alicent asked, shifting in the chair to face him and pulling the blanket further over her shoulders.

"She told me nothing happened between her and Prince Daemon." (Y/N) answered, resting his arm on the top of her chair and gazing down at her. Alicent hummed softly, still looking rather unconvinced. (Y/N) combed his fingers through her brown locks. "Rhaenyra is smart, Alicent. But she's young. It is only natural that someone like her wanted the thrill of an adventure before being married off."

"But in the Street of Silk? With Prince Daemon? He knows no bounds, (Y/N). I... I almost cannot..." Alicent pressed her lips together, head shaking lightly as she looked away from him and back at the fire, the orange flames reflecting in her eyes. "The Targaryens are known for their... queer traditions. Aegon the Conqueror took both his sisters to wed as did King Jaehaerys. Prince Daemon is a stubborn and calculating man but I believe he cares greatly for his brother. I am just not sure if he cares about him enough to forget about the throne. He already showed his discontent with Rhaenyra being heir once. He does not seem like the type of man who forgives easily."

"If you cannot trust him, trust Rhaenyra." (Y/N) said softly, gently touching her chin and rubbing his thumb along her jawline. Alicents' eyes softened, a breath escaping her as she relaxed. She reached up, delicately taking his hand in hers and holding it with both hands. Her skin felt cold to the touch.

"Father said you knew before him and yet, it was quite early in the morrow when he received the news." She muttered, running her finger over the lines on his palm. "When did Rhaenyra tell you, Brother?"

"When she returned."

"During the hour of the owl?" Her head snapped up, eyes widening. She abruptly rose from her seat, the blanket slipping from her shoulders as she released his hand. Alicent stared at him, mouth agape and eyes flickering between his. "Did you-"

"No, Alicent. I did not compromise Rhaenyra. I am her closest friend and she simply wished to tell me all about her venture into the city while it lie fresh on her mind. The events of the night caught up to her and she bid farewell. Nothing happened between us." He reached out but Alicent took a step back, legs bumping against the short round table next to the chair. (Y/N) dropped his arms to his side in disbelief, brows furrowing.

"Alicent-"

"Rhaenyra cares much for you and she can be quite convincing..." Alicent whispered, chest rising and falling as her breathing quickened. (Y/N) stepped forward, arms wrapping around her shoulders. His twin buried her face in his neck, fingers weakly grabbing at his shirt.

"Rhaenyra is to be wed, Alicent. Is she not on her way to meet with her new husband as we speak? I may have an encounter here or there but I view Rhaenyra the same way I view you. And whatever feelings you believe she may have for me will disappear once she and Ser Laenor wed. He's quite a sweet man, I hear." A sweet man who was said to prefer the company of men over women. But (Y/N) had his fair share of experiences with men and Rhaenyra still fell into his line of sight. Even if the thought of her marrying someone else made a bitter taste settle in the back of his throat, (Y/N) couldn't allow himself to be connected to the throne. Not after what it did to his parents and their marriage.

"Apologies, I... I'm feeling dreadfully tired, (Y/N)." Alicent whispered, pulling back and sighing softly, her bottom lip quivering. She inhaled, smoothing back her hair before kissing his cheek. Alicent stepped back and retrieved the blanket from the floor, setting it down on the chair and taking another breath. (Y/N) followed her to the door, stepping out into the hallway and bidding her goodbye. He watched her walk away, the ends of her dress still damp enough to leave a trail on the floor. Hearing someone clear their throat, he turned his head to look at them. Ser Harwin Strong, or Breakbones as some called him, stood tall and wore a small grin despite his words. Despite his reputation as the strongest man in all of the kingdoms, his soft bouncy hair and sweet eyes made it hard to be intimidated by him.

"A rather dull day we're having, is it not?" Ser Harwin tilted his head slightly, curls bouncing off his temple. "Quite reflecting of what's occurred. You must be deeply saddened by the news of your fathers' departure."

"And you must be thrilled by your fathers' new position. I'm sure Lord Lyonel will prove to be a good Hand to King Viserys." (Y/N) faced the knight completely as he spoke. Ser Harwin gave a cheeky smile. The type of smile he'd seen Rhaenyra wear countless times before whenever she caught his full attention. (Y/N) eyed him for a moment before nodding toward the inside of his room.

"Cup of wine, Ser Harwin?"

"That'd be lovely, M'Lord." The lack of hesitance from the man made (Y/N)s' brow quirk and he entered his bedchambers, approaching the table that held the wine. Pouring a cup for the knight, he turned and reached out, feeling Ser Harwins' fingers brush against his hand and linger, almost as if waiting for (Y/N) to react. (Y/N) met his gaze and pulled his hand back, watching the knight look over his room in mild curiosity.

"It's a shame we haven't had the chance to converse before, Ser Harwin. I've heard much of your reputation." (Y/N) poured himself a cup as well, bringing it to his lips and drinking. Ser Harwin smirked, licking his lips and looking down at his cup, swirling around the wine.

"I could say the same for you, M'Lord. The Boy Who Never Smiles... Quite the title." Snorting softly, (Y/N) couldn't help but roll his eyes. The title had stuck in court for far too long. He'd hear newcomers whispering about it as if it held any real significance to him. It was just a title some lord or lady had given a grieving child for not being friendly enough.

"I smile on the occasion." He muttered and a soft chuckle escaped the tall knight. Ser Harwin lowered himself onto a chair and set his cup down, eyes trailing up to look at the painting of the late Lady Hightower. He grimaced, vaguely remembering the grim days before and after her death. The whispers of the unconsolable twins and their father who could just barely keep himself together. The murmurs of Otto attempting to juggle his duties and being a father, appearing to fail on the latter. Ser Harwin had seen the Hightower twins here and there, only beginning to see more of them when they grew closer to the royal family.

"How did you come to befriend the Princess?" He asked, resting back against the chair. (Y/N) turned toward the window, leaning against the cool stone wall, the cup still in hand.

"I did not have much of a choice. She simply began following me around and talking until I responded." Ser Harwin laughed at his response. Stubbornness was a trait all Targaryens seemed to inherit, so to hear Rhaenyra had simply refused to leave the boy alone until he befriended her... "I enjoy her company. Most people here view me as... rude. I'm not well-liked, I suppose."

"I quite like you." Ser Harwin murmured, smiling at him. "Most people here are arrogant and have no sense of loyalty. You seem... different from them."

"Is this your way of trying to befriend me, Ser Harwin?"

"Is it working, M'Lord?"

"Perhaps."

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

Joining Alicent on the balcony, (Y/N) stood beside her and looked down at the light gray carriage. Servants and guards surrounded it, watching King Viserys exit. Alicent flinched upon seeing the king crumble to the floor, servants quickly flocking to him as Lord Lyonel hollered for the maesters. He'd left for Driftmark in perfectly fine condition and yet arrived looking paler than a ghost. Perhaps the waves of the sea had been particularly unforgiving. Not many had the stomach for them. Alicent remained silent, uncharacteristically so. He'd expected her to fret over the Kings' condition but her face hadn't changed in the slightest. As much as (Y/N) wished to brush her behavior off as exhaustion from the events of the week, his gut told him it was something else.

"Are you alright, Alicent?" (Y/N) asked softly, resting against the railing and watching her. She ran her hand over the skirt of her blue dress and silently nodded, turning away from him and walking into the hall. (Y/N) frowned, pushing himself away from the railing and following her inside.

"Fetch Ser Criston Cole for me, please." She ordered a servant, lifting the front of her dress, and descending the stairs. (Y/N)s' brows only furrowed and he continued down the stairs, watching his sister disappear down the hall. Her unreadable face, her tone filled with a hint of bitterness and anger. Had she found out about the maid? Had their father written to her about what he'd heard from that night? Or had Rhaenyra lied about what occurred between her and Daemon? He didn't have time to go after her, hearing the clacking of metal against the floor.

"(Y/N)!" Rhaenyra called out, lifting her dress and hurrying past the guards, a wide gleeful smile on her face. She released the sides of her dress once she stood in front of him, soft pants escaping her and eyes twinkling. Her fingers twitched and she stepped closer, almost as if she wanted to envelop him in a hug. But her excitement had already gotten too much attention.

"I assume this means you like your soon-to-be husband?"

"Oh, yes. He and I understand each other very well." Rhaenyra breathed, combing down her hair with her fingers before linking her arm around (Y/N)s' and pulling him into a walk. Swallowing, she leaned her head toward him.

"We've granted each other the freedom to be with whoever we wish as long as we do our duty to the realm." She explained in a low, quiet tone to avoid being overheard by a nosy servant or lord. "It is true that he prefers the company of men over women but we're both willing to do what we must for the realm and keep ourselves content with those we truly care about."

"And who would that be for you, Nyra?" (Y/N) questioned, and Rhaenyras' lips spread into a smirk, chuckling softly.

"I'm sure you already know." She murmured, looking forward. "Did you miss me whilst I was gone?"

"I replaced you with Ser Harwin Strong." (Y/N) answered, grinning down at her. Rhaenyras' brows raised and she hummed, giving a nod of approval. She'd briefly encountered Ser Harwin a number of times, though she knew little of him apart from what stories and rumors told. He remained unmarried despite his status and age, though one could assume his inheritance had something to do with that. Most of Westeros knew of the Harrenhal curse and how many of the families that resided within it perished not long after acquiring it.

"Have you made him your Sworn Shield? You'd be the safest lord in all the kingdoms."

"I am not in need of one, Nyra. I may not be popular in court but I've made no enemies thus far."

"No enemies that you're aware of." Rhaenyra lifted her brows, hand raising to grasp his bicep and give it a tender squeeze. "It's better to be safe than dead." She added, her other hand wrapped around his wrist, fingers grazing the skin of his palm. She refrained from appearing too affectionate, she was newly engaged after all. In the coming days, the castle would be readied for the festivities and she'd soon be the wife of Ser Laenor. The wife of someone she considered a friend but not the wife of the one she truly desired.

"I appreciate the worries, Nyra. But, your father-"

"Father grew terribly seasick during the trip. The maesters will take good care of him." Rhaenyra brushed it off, though her brow creased and the corners of her lips tugged down. Clearing her throat, she looked up at him. "And what of Alicent? I didn't see her when we arrived."

"She's been feeling unwell. As you know, Father left for Oldtown not long ago. It brought her great sadness to see him go on such short notice."

"I see..." Rhaenyra frowned, nails gently scraping at the cloth covering his skin. She sighed and released his arm, keeping a hold of his wrist to stop his movements. She swallowed, biting the inside of her cheek before tilting her head up. "Promise you won't leave my side. Even after I wed and... undoubtedly have children. I've seen many women be cast aside and forgotten after they wed and provide their husbands with children. My mother was a bright and caring woman but she had few friends. Alicent is on a similar road. I... I do not want that to be me. So, promise me you'll be by my side, please."

"I promise, Nyra."

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

(Y/N) watched from his seat as the Lannisters entered, followed by the Hightowers. He rose, sparing a glance toward the two blank-faced Targaryens as Jason Lannister approached them to offer his congratulations. Rhaenyra stared at him in mild irritation, glancing at her father in disbelief every few seconds. The Lannisters seemed to have a knack for making a fool of themselves without realizing it. An admirable talent indeed. A man breezed past House Hightower, stepping up to speak with King Viserys and Rhaenyra. Annoyance oozed off his uncle at the interruption, even more so when the drums sounded off to signal the arrival of House Velaryon. His family stepped out of the aisle and approached him, his aunt beaming at the sight of him.

"It is good to see you, Nephew." Claere cooed, cupping (Y/N)s' cheek with a tender hand and warm eyes. His uncle, Hobert Hightower, addressed him with a far from impressed look, lip nearly curling in disdain. His disobedience had landed him in rough waters with the rest of the Hightowers. Another slip-up and they'd surely view him as the disgrace of the family. Claere stroked his cheek with her thumb, bumping her arms against her husbands'. She glanced at him, brow quirking.

"Your father sends his regards," Hobert said bitterly, brushing past him to take a seat. Claere sighed softly and followed him, taking a seat beside him. Their son patted (Y/N)s' arm as he stepped by, taking his seat as well. (Y/N) sighed, lowering back down onto the chair and reaching for his cup of ale.

"Lord Corlys of House Velaryon. Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark. And his lady-wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. And their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon. The future king consort." Ser Harrold announced as the family glided into the room, heads held high and proud. They were each individually clad in black and gold in comparison to King Viserys' and Rhaenyras' white-colored attire. The guests rose from their seats, clapping their hands and watching the family bow to them. Ser Laenor stepped forward and Rhaenyra approached him, allowing him to take her hand and kiss the back of it.

"Where is your sister?" Hobert leaned over to ask quietly, sitting down once the Velaryons took their places at the table.

"Still getting dressed, I presume." (Y/N) answered, glancing toward the doors. A figure dressed in black entered the room, causing the guests to fall silent. Prince Daemon strolled up to the table, greeting his brother with a bold smirk. His brother narrowed his eyes but nevertheless motioned for a servant to bring a chair and plate for the exiled prince. King Viserys sighed softly and forced a smile, addressing the room.

"Be welcome, as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. We honor the crown's oldest and fiercest ally, House Velaryon, reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targaryen and Hou-" King Viserys cut himself off, staring forward at the entrance of the room, mouth nearly agape. Following his gaze, (Y/N) felt his throat tighten, watching his sister enter the room. Not only in one of their mothers' dresses, but wearing an all too familiar shade of green. Hobert and Claere quickly rose as did the rest of House Hightower and the other guests. Alicent kept her gaze forward, only turning her head to smile at her family. She took her place at the table, planting a kiss on her husband's cheek.

Clearing his throat, King Viserys nodded. "Please be seated." He commanded, glancing in the Hands' direction and fingers brushing against Rhaenyras' arm. "With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dragons in Westeros." King Viserys paused to allow everyone to clap before resuming his speech. "And after tonight's small affair, seven days of tournament and feasting. At the end of it all, a royal wedding, between my daughter, the heir.. your future queen, and Ser Laenor Velaryon, the heir to Driftmark."

With that, he took his seat and Rhaenyra rose from hers. She and Ser Laenor took to the middle of the room and began their dance, arms mimicking the wings of dragons. Her eyes met (Y/N)s' a few times before she finished the dance with a bow, an invitation for those who wished to dance to join the couple. (Y/N) stood, slipping through the guests as they got into position and coming to a stop before Lady Byrch. The raven-haired woman grinned at him, striding toward him as the music picked up and the dance began.

"You've yet to return my book, Lord (Y/N)." She reminded quietly, hands resting on his shoulders when he picked her up by the waist. (Y/N) felt eyes burning into the side of his skull and he noticed the white of Rhaenyras' dress in his peripheral.

"Perhaps I hoped you'd showed up asking for it so I could... convince you of letting me keep it." (Y/N) responded cooly and she chuckled, a strand of hair slipping out of her tied when she landed back on the ground. She trailed her hand down his arm, coyly smiling before whirling around to dance with the nearest man. Looking in Rhaenyras' direction, he spotted her glaring in Lady Byrchs' direction. Repeating the dance with a new lady, Lady Byrch came into his field of vision again when it was time to change partners. She stepped toward him only for Rhaenyra to slip in between them, hands grasping at his arms and pulling him away from the woman.

"What was that?" (Y/N) questioned when Rhaenyra stopped, hands slipping from his arms to his wrists.

"What was what?" Rhaenyra asked with feigned innocent, batting her eyes and tilting her head for full effect.

"I was enjoying her company-"

"But you'd enjoy mine more." Rhaenyra interrupted with a grin, stepping closer to him. Her nails lightly grazed his skin and she stepped closer, barely allowing any space between them. In a room full of crowded people, in a room with her father and his family, Rhaenyra found herself not caring about them or their judgment. "There is still time, (Y/N), although the hours pass swiftly. I may have been granted freedom in my marriage but it will not be the same. You can be mine. You should be mine."

"But I am not yours, Princess." (Y/N) cooed, fingers brushing against her cheek. Her hands pressed against his abdomen, inhaling deeply as he gently grabbed her chin and kept her chin tilted up toward him. Only an inch or two of space between them that Rhaenyra desperately wanted to close. But before she could curse it all and claim his lips, a scream broke out, separating the two briefly before they were suddenly shoved together by the crowd. People moved in all directions, some trying to break free and others wishing to see what was happening. The two were shoved out of the way and into the sidelines, pinned against the table until Ser Harwin broke through the crowd, swiftly heaving Rhaenyra over his shoulder and grabbing (Y/N)s' arm. Ser Harwin pushed, punched, and shoved his way through once more until they reached the front.

"Brother!" Alicent quickly rounded the table, hurrying down the steps and narrowly tripping over herself. She cupped his face, inspecting it for marks, soft pants escaping her. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" She questioned, looking him over repeatedly. (Y/N) rubbed his side and nodded, looking back toward the dispersing crowd and finally witnessing what had caused the panic and commotion. In the middle of the room lied a beaten body and a weeping Ser Laenor hovered over him.

"Perhaps it'd be best if... If we did not wait." King Viserys breathed, leaning against the table and holding a cloth to his face. Corlys and Rhaenys glanced at each other, sharing a nod before Rhaenys approached her son, reaching down to rub his back and speak quietly to him. Lord Lyonel ordered a servant to fetch the High Septon and (Y/N) took a seat, feeling a prickle of pain from his side.

"Are you certain-"

"I'm fine, Alicent. Nothing more than a bruise." He assured her, watching Rhaenys coax her son away from the deceased. Laenor continued weeping, even as he walked away from the body and stood in front of Rhaenyra. What had been meant to be a lighthearted celebration had turned into a grim day. The body of the knight was retrieved and the High Septon arrived, beginning his speech. (Y/N)s' eyes couldn't help but turn toward the puddle of blood and bits of brain coating the ground. The sound of Rhaenyra and Laenor exchanging their vows felt distant and only the sight of King Viserys falling over pulled his attention away from the gruesome sight. Those standing present to witness the exchanging of vows flocked to his side, calling his name and shouting for maesters.

Getting up from the chair, (Y/N) stepped toward them, gently pulling his sister back and away from King Viserys as guards and maesters rushed into the room. "He needs to be treated elsewhere." He whispered as the guards heaved up the fallen king, taking him away from the room. Lord Lyonel followed, continuing to shout for maesters.

"I know this is not what we envisioned for this day." Rhaenys breathed, gaze lingering on the door. "But we must continue." She turned toward her new daughter, forcing a small smile for her. Rhaenyra remained kneeling on the floor, strands of white sticking out from her braided hair. Her eyes rose, meeting (Y/N)s'.

"Come, Brother," Alicent muttered, blocking his view of Rhaenyra and taking his arm. "The Princess must be prepared for tonight and I want a maester to check on you." She looped her arm around his, staring straight forward and pulling her brother along. She grimaced as they passed the puddle of blood, carefully stepping around the chunks laying around it. (Y/N) made no move to protest, clutching his side and leaning against his sister. She brought him to her room, having a maid fetch a maester as he collapsed down on the chair.

"I love you, (Y/N). I love you dearly for I am your sister. Please, do not lie to speak. Speak plainly and only of the truth. What feelings do you truly harbor for Rhaenyra?"

"I already-"

"I saw you!" Alicents' voice raised into a shout, the sound bouncing off the walls as the door creaked open. The maester glanced between the two, clearing his throat and entering the room. (Y/N) stared at his sister, lips pressing together as an annoyed hum left his throat. The older man bowed his head, murmuring his greetings.

"My brother was injured during the feast," Alicent explained breathily and the maester nodded. He approached (Y/N) and waited for him to discard his upper clothing, leaving only his undershirt. Alicent turned away from them, nails picking at her thumb as she calmed her breathing. The maester inspected his side, gently prodding at the darkening skin.

"It appears to simply be a bruise. I suggest avoiding the training grounds and taking a day's rest. You should feel better in the coming days, but on the chance the pain worsens, call for us." The maester advised, turning toward Alicent and bowing again before he departed the room. Silence fell over the twins, only the sound of the howling wind filling the room.

"I saw you and Rhaenyra," Alicent whispered, breaking the silence and facing her brother, though her gaze remained on the stone floor. "During her wedding feast, you..." She trailed off, swallowing and dropping her hands to her side. The brunette lifted her head and met his eyes, taking a step toward him.

"I want you to stop seeing Rhaenyra. She is not good for you, nor ever will be."

"Alicent-"

"Rhaenyra may not have coupled with her uncle that night but her maidenhead was indeed taken. She pursued her Sworn Shield, Ser Criston Cole after she returned from the city. I called on him in hopes of easing my worries of that night. He believed I knew beforehand and confessed the sins he and Rhaenyra committed. Rhaenyra is not the girl I used to know therefore, I've decided it is best you refrain from being in her company." Not a hint of uncertainty coated her tone. His sister held her head high, showing her firmness in her decision. "Whatever feelings you may harbor for her are obviously not returned."

"Whether she fucked Ser Criston or not... It doesn't really concern nor bother me. I've lied with many... I'd be a hypocrite to be angered by such news. Rhaenyra has also asked me repeatedly to wed her and I believe she's asked him a total of zero times, so it appears she has some feelings for me." (Y/N) used the armrest to push himself up, collecting his discarded attire. Alicent stared at him, lips parting and closing.

"It does not matter now, Brother. She is a married woman. As we speak, she is preparing for her first night with her husband."

"A husband we both know has no interest in her."

"Are you hearing yourself?!" Alicent closed the distance between them, only stopping a foot away from him. "(Y/N), you cannot pursue Princess Rhaenyra. Her father would have your head for it, that is if Lord Corlys doesn't reach you first. Since when have you been so reckless? So selfish as to put yourself in danger and put our family in danger of scorn?"

Scoffing, (Y/N) glared at his sister. "You call me selfish when I've spent my whole life caring for you. Since we were born, every day of my life has been dedicated to watching over you, protecting you. It's been expected of me from everyone! My whole childhood revolved around you. I've tried my hardest to protect you from vile men and selfish women. I've tried to keep you from seeing the horrors of the lands we call home. Whenever you learned something a lady shouldn't know, I was blamed for not doing better. I love you, Alicent. I would lay my life down for you. But I am done with you and our family viewing me as a disappointment when all I've done is try to balance my happiness with their wishes. Mother's death allowed me to see our father in a different light. I realized I took on his duty of being a father after she passed. I was the one by your side when you felt unwell, I was the one helping you with your studies, I was the one who made sure you knew all the dances."

Feeling his eyes water with fresh tears, (Y/N) took in a deep breath. "But you are woman-grown. You are a queen and a mother. I cannot change your mind, especially when it comes to Father. So, I am done being the man he should've been. You are no longer my responsibility, Alicent."

440 notes · View notes

otherworlds-inside-my-mind · 8 months

Text

Xenofiction (& similar) Media Masterpost

PS. This list is for keeping track only. This is not a recommendation list and I won't be advocating for any Work, Author or Company listed. There will be footnotes about a work/author for undesirable behaviour or themes if necessary.

This is a WIP and will be updated whenever I have the time to. Feel free to recommend works or inform me about an author so I can update the post. Be Aware works on this list might have been cancelled or on indifinitive Hiatus and not all works are available on English.

Sections:

Literature

Comic Books & Graphics Novels

Picture Books

Webcomics

Manga

Animated Series

Live-Action & Hybrid shows

Webseries

Short Films

Animated Films

Live Action & CGI Assisted Movies

Documentary

Theather

Videogames

Online Browser Games

Table Top Games

Music

Other Online Projects

Youtubers

Gen. Videos

Franchises

To search is Ctrl + F (Windows) or Command-F (MacOS), on phone browser you have "Find in page" (Drop menu at top right)

Literature

Age of Fire - E. E. Knight

Adventure Lit their Star - Kenneth Allsop

Alien in a Small Town - Jim Cleaveland

Alien Chronicles (Literature) - Deborah Chester

Animal Farm - George Orwell

Animorphs - K. A. Applegate

Am an Owl - Martin Hocke

At Winters End - Robert Silverberg

Avonoa - H.R.B. Collotzi

Astrid and Cerulean: A Parrot Fantasy - Parasol Marshall-Crowley

A Wolf for a Spell - Karah Sutton

The African Painted Wolf Novels - Alexander Kendziorski

The Alchemist's Cat - Robin Jarvis

The Amazing Maurice and his educated rodents - Terry Pratchet

The Amity Incident - C. M. Weller

The Ancient Solitary Reign - Martin Hocke

The Animals of Farthing Wood series - Colin Dann

The Art of Racing in the Rain - Garth Stein

The Author of Acacia Seeds and Other Extracts from the Journal of Therolinguistics - Ursula K. Le Guin

A Magical Cat Named Kayla: Whiskers of Enchantment -Carlos Juárez [AI Cover]*

Bambi: A life in the forest & Bambi Children - Felix Salten

Bamboo Kingdom series - Erin Hunter

Bazil Broketail - Christopher Rowley

Beak of the Moon & Dark of the Moon - Philip Temple

Bears of the Ice series - Kathryn Lasky

Beasts of New York - Jon Evans

Beautiful Joe - Margaret Marshall Saunders

Beyond Acacia Ridge - Amy Clare Fontaine

Birddom - Clive Woodall

Black Beauty - Anna Sewell

Blitzcat - Robert Westall

Blizzard Winds - Paul Koch

Books of the Raksura - Martha Wells

Bravelands series- Erin Hunter

Broken Fang - Rutherford Montgomery

Bunnicula series - Deborah Howe & James Howe

Burning Stars - Rurik Redwolf

A Black Fox Running - Brian Carter

A Blue So Loud - Tuesday

The Ballard of The Belstone Fox - David Rook

The Bear - James Curwood

The Bees - Laline Paull

The Biography of a Silver Fox - Ernest Thompson Seton

The Blue Cat of Castle Town - Catherine Cate Coblentz

The Book Of Chameleons - José Eduardo Agualusa

The Book of the Dun Cow - Walter Wangerin Jr.

The Book of Night with Moon - Diane Duane

The Books of the Named series - Clare Bell

The Bug Wars - Robert Asprin

Call of the wild - Jack London

Callanish - William Horwood

Catwings - Ursula K. Le Guin

Cat Diaries: Secret Writings of the MEOW Society - Betsy Byars, Betsy Duffey & Laurie Myers

Cat House - Michael Peak

Cat Pack - Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

Cats in the city of Plague - A.L Marlow

Celestial Heir series - Chester Young

Charlotte's Web - E. B. White

Chet and Bernie mysteries - Spencer Quinn

Chia The Wildcat - Joyce stranger

Child of the Wolves - Elizabeth Hall

Clarice the Brave - Lisa McMann

Coyote's Wild Home - Barbara Kingsolver; Lily Kingsolver & Paul Mirocha

Crocuta - Katelyn Rushe

Cujo - Steven King

The Calatians Series - Tim Susman

The Cats of Roxville station - Jean Craighead Georde

The Chanur Novels - C. J. Cherryh

The Cold Moons - Aeron Clement

The Color of Distance || Through Alien Eyes - Amy Thomson

The Conquerors - Timothy Zahn

The Council of Cats - R. J. F.

The Cricket in Times Square - George Selden

The Crimson Torch - Angela Holder

The Crossbreed - Allan Eckert

The Crucible of Time - John Brunner

Darkeye series - Lydia West

Deadlands: The Hunted - Skye Melki-Wegner

Demon of Undoing - Andrea I. Alton

Desert Dog - Jim Kjelgaard

Dinotopia - James Gurney, Alan Dean Foster

Doglands - Tim Willocks

Dimwood Forest series - Avi

A Dog's Life: The Autobiography of a Stray - Ann M. Martin

Dogs of the Drowned City - Dayna Lorentz

A Dog's Purpose series - W. Bruce Cameron

Dolphin Way: Rise of the Guardians - Mark Caney

Domino - Kia Heavey

DragonFire series - Lewis Jones Davies

Dragon Fires Rising - Marc Secchia

Dragon Hoard and Other Tales of Faerie - Cathleen Townsend

Dragons and Skylines series - Rowan Silver

Dragon Prayers - M.J. McPike

Dragons of Mother Stone series - Melissa McShane

The Deptford Mice series - Robin Jarvis

The Dogs of the Spires series - Ethan Summers

The Dragons of Solunas series - H. Leighton Dickson

The Duncton Chronicles - William Horwood

The Destiny of Dragons - J.F.R. Coates

The Diary Of A House Cat - Ileana Dorobantu

Die Wilden Hunde Von Pompeii - Helmut Krausser (DE)

Dogtown - Katherine Applegate & Gennifer Choldenko

The Eyes and the Impossible - Dave Eggers

Eclosión - Arturo Balseiro (ES)

Fantastic Mr. Fox - Roald Dahl

Faithful Ruslan - Georgi Vladimov

Feather and Bone: The Crow Chronicles - Clem Martini

Feathers & Flames series - John Bailey

Felidae series (1) - Akif Pirinçci

Fifteen Rabbits - Felix Salten

Fire, Bed & Bone - Henrietta Branford

Fire of the Phoenix - Azariah Jade

Fluke - James Herbert

Firefall series - Peter Watts

Firebringer - David Clement-Davies

Flush: A Biography Book - Virginia Woolf

Fox - Glyn Frewer

Foxcraft series - Inbali Iserles

Frightful’s Mountain - Jeanie Craighead George

Frost dancers: A story of hares - Garry Kilworth

The Familiars series - Adam Jay Epstein

The Fifth - Saylor Ferguson

The Firebringer series - Meredith Ann Pierce

The Fox and The Hound - Daniel P. Mannix

(1) Felidae's Author - Akif Pirinçci - is known to be a Xenophobic, Anti-muslim, Anti-Lgbt and Extreme Right-Wing guy (A N4zi by his on words). Won't be going onto details just know he has a non-fiction work called "Germany Gone Mad: The Crazy Cult around Women, Homosexuals and Immigrants." His works has been out of print ever since.

Guardian Cats and the lost books of Alexandria - Rahma Krambo

Guardians of Ga'Hoole series - Kathryn Lasky

Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Griffin Quest - Sophie Torro

Gryphon Insurrection series - K. Vale Nagle

The Ghost and It's Shadow - Shaun Hick

The Golden Eagle - Robert Murphy

The Golem and the Jinni - Helene Wecker

The Good Dog - Newbery Medalist

The Guardian Herd series - Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

The Goodbye Cat - Hiro Arikawa

Haunt Fox - Jim Kjelgaard

Haven: A Small Cat's Big Adventure - Megan Wagner Lloyd

Heavenly Horse series - Mary Stanton

Hive - Ischade Bradean

Horses of Dawn series - Kathryn Lasky

House of Tribes - Garry Kilworth

Hunter's Moon/Foxes of First dark - Garry Kilworth

Hunters Universe series - Abigail Hilton

A Hare at Dark Hollow - Joyce Stranger

The Hundred and One Dalmatians & The Starlight Barking - Dodie Smith

The Hunt for Elsewhere - Beatrice Vine

Hollow Kingdom Duology - Kira Jane Buxton

I am a Cat - Natsume Sōseki

I, Scheherezade: Memoirs of a Siamese Cat - Douglass Parhirst

In the Long Dark - Brian Carter

The Incredible Journey - Sheila Burnford

Joe Grey series - Shirley Rousseau Murphy

Jonathan Livingston Seagull - Richard Bach & Russell Munson

Julie of the Wolves - Jeanie Craighead George

The Jungle Book - Rudyard Kipling

Journey to the West - Wu Cheng'en

Kävik the Wolf Dog - Walt Morey

Kazan duology - James Curwood

Kine - Alan Lloyd

Kona's Song - Louise Searl

The Killers - Daniel P. Mannix

Kindred of the Wild - Charles G.D Roberts

Lassie Come-Home - Eric Knight

Last of the Curlews - Fred Bodsworth

Lazy Scales - D.M. Gilmore

Legends of Blood series - Ethan Summers

A Legend of Wolf Song - George Stone

Luna the Lone Wolf - Forest Wells

Lupus Rex - John Carter Cash

Lutapolii: White Dragon of the South - Deryn Pittar

The Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle

The Labrador Pact & The Last Family in England - Matt Haig

The Last Dogs - Christopher Holt

The Last Eagle - Daniel P. Mannix

The Last Great Auk - Allan Eckert

The Last Monster on Earth - L.J. Davies

The Life Story of a Fox - J. C. Tregarthen

The Lost Rainforest series - Eliot Schrefer & Emilia Dziubak

The Lost Domain - Martin Hocke

The Last Whales: A Novel - Lloyd Abbey

Mammoth Trilogy - Stephen Baxter

Manxmouse: The Mouse Who Knew No Fear - Paul Gallico

Marney the Fox - Scott Goodall & John Stokes

Mattie: The story of a hedgehog - Norman Adams, & G.D. Griffiths

Matriarch: Elephant vs. T-Rex - Roz Gibson

Migon - P.C. Keeler

Monkey Wars - Richard Kurti

The Mistmantle chronicles - M.I. McAllister

The Mountain Lion - Robert Murphy

The Mouse Butcher - Dick King-Smith

The Mouse Protectors Series - Olly Barrett

New Springtime series - Robert Silverberg

Nightshade Chronicles - Hilary Wagner

Old One-Toe - Michel-Aimé Baudouy

Of Birds and Branches - Frances Pauli

Outlaw Red - Jim Kjelgaard

The Old Stag - Henry Williamson

The One and Only Ivan - Katherine Applegate

Painted Flowers - Caitlin Grizzle

Pax & Pax: Journey Home - Sara Pennypacker

Petrichor - C.E. Wright

The Plague Dogs - Richard Adams

The Pit - Elaine Ramsay

Pride Wars - Matt Laney

A Pup Called Trouble - Bobbie Pyron

The Peregryne Falcon - Robert Murphy

Pork and Others - Cris Freddi

Queen in the Mud - Maari

Quill and Claw series - Kathryn Brown

Rak: The story of an Urban Fox - Jonathon Guy

Rats of Nimh series - Robert C. O'Brien

Raven Quest - Sharon Stewart

Raptor Red - Robert T. Bakker

Red Fox - Charles G. D. Roberts

Redwall series - Brian Jacques

Rose in a Storm - Jon Katz

Rufus - Rutherford Montgomery

Run With the Wind series - Tom McCaughren

Runt - Marion Dane Baeur

Rustle in the Grass - Robin Hawdon

Rusty - Joyce Stranger

The Remembered War series - Robert Vane

The Rescuers series - Margery Sharp

The Red Stranger - David Stephen

The River Singers & The Rising - Tom Moorhouse

The Road Not Taken - Harry Turtledove,

The Running Foxes - Joyce Stranger

Salar the Salmon - Henry Williamson

Scaleshifter series - Shelby Hailstone Law

Scream of the White Bears - David Clement-Davies

Seekers saga - Erin Hunter

Serpentia Series - Frances Pauli

Shadows in the Sky - Pete Cross

Shark Wars Series - EJ Altbacker

Silverwing series - Kenneth Oppel

Silver Brumby series - Elyne Mitchell

Sirius - Olaf Stapledon

Solo's Journey - Joy Aiken Smith

Sky Hawk - Gill Lewis

Snow Dog - Jim Kjelgaard

Song of the River - Soinbhe Lally

Spirit of the West series - Kathleen Duey

Survivors series - Erin Hunter

Stray - A.N Wilson

String Lug the Fox - David Stephen

Swashbuckling Cats: Nine Lives on the Seven Seas - Rhonda Parrish & Co.

Swordbird series - Nancy Yi Fan

The Sheep-Pig - Dick King-Smith

The Sight & Fell - David Clement-Davies

The Silent Sky - Allan Eckert

The Silver Claw - Garry Kilworth

The Stoner Eagles - William Horwood

The Stink Files - Jennifer L. Holm & Jonathan Hamel

The Snowcat Prince - Dina Norlund

The Story Of A Seagull And The Cat Who Taught Her To Fly - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a Snail Who Discovered the Importance of Being Slow - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a dog called Leal - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a Red Deer - John Fortescue

The Summer King Chronicles - Jess E. Owen

Schogul, Rächer der Tiere - Birgit Laqua (DE)

Tailchaser's Song - Tad Williams

Tarka the Otter - Henry Williamson

Three Bags Full - Leonnie Swann

Thy Servant a Dog - Rudyard Kipling

Tomorrow's Sphinx - Clare Bell

Torn Ear - Geoffrey Malone

Thor - Wayne Smith

Trickster - Tom Moorhouse

Two Dogs and a Horse - Jim Kjelgaard

The Travelling Cat Chronicles - Hiro Arikawa

The Trilogy of the Ants - Bernard Werber

The Trumpet of the Swan - E. B. White

The Tusk That Did the Damage - Tania James

The Tygrine cat - Inbali Iserles

Ultimate Dragon Saga - Graham Edwards

Under the Skin - Michel Faber

Varjak Paw duology - S.F Said

Vainqueur the Dragon series - Maxime J. Durand

War Bunny series - Christopher St. Jhon

War Horse - Michael Morpurgo

War Queen - Illthylian

Warrior Cats series - Erin Hunter

Watership Down/Tales of Watership Down - Richard Adams

Ways of Wood Folk - William J. Long

Welkin Weasels series - Garry Kilworth

West of Eden - Harry Harrison

Whalesong Trilogy - Robert Siegel

Whale - Jeremy Lucas

Whispers in the Forest - Barbara Coultry

White Wolf - Henrietta Branford

White Fang - Jack London

Wild Lone - Denys Watkins-Pitchford

Wild Animals I Have Known - Ernest Thompson Seton

Wings of Fire series - Tui T. Sutherland

Winterset Hollow - Jonathan Edward Durham

Wolf: The Journey Home | Hungry for Home: A Wolf Odyssey - Asta Bowen

Wolf Brother series - Michelle Paver

Wolf Chronicles - Dorothy Hearst

Wolves of the Beyond series - Kathryn Lasky

Woodstock Saga - Michael Tod

A Whale of the Wild - Rosanne Parry

A Wolf Called Wander - Rosanne Parry

The Waters of Nyra - Kelly Michelle Baker

The Wolves of Elementa series - Sophie Torro

The Wolves of Time - William Horwood

The Wolf Chronicles Series - Teng Rong

The Way of Kings - Louise Searl

The White Bone - Barbara Gowdy

The White Fox/Singing Tree - Brian Parvin

The White Puma - Ronald Lawrence

The Wild Road & The Golden Cat - Gabriel King

The Wildings & The Thousand names of darkness - Nilanjana Roy

The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

The Wind Protect You - Pat Murphy

The Wolves of Paris - Daniel P. Mannix

Yellow eyes - Rutherford Montgomery

The Year Of The Dinosaur - Edwin H. Colbert

Zones of Thought series - Vernor Vinge

Z-Verse series by R.H

Comic Books/Graphic Novels

Animosity - Marguerite Bennett

Age of Reptiles - Ricardo Delgado

Legend - Samuel Sattin Koehler

Mouse Guard - David Petersen

Pride of Baghdad - Brian K. Vaughan & Niko Henrichon

Rover Red Charlie - Garth Ennis & Michael Dipascale

Stray Dogs - Tony Fleecs & Trish Forstner

We3 - Grant Morrison & Frank Quitely

Beasts of Burden - Evan Dorkin & Jill Thompson

LOBO: Canine Crusader of the Metal Wasteland - Macs-World-Ent

The Sandman: Dream of a Thousand Cats - Neil Gaiman

Animal Castle - Xavier Dorison & Felix Delep

Blacksad Series - Juan Díaz Canales & Juanjo Guarnido

Scurry - Mac Smith

The Snowcat Prince - Dina Norlund

Rankless - Maggie Lightheart

Picture Books

Steve the Dung Beetle: On a Roll - Susan R. Stoltz & Melissa Bailey

Hot Dog - Doug Salati

The Rock from the Sky - Jon Klassen

Whoever Heard of a Flying Bird? - David Cunliffe & Ivan Barrera

A Cat Named Whiskers - Shana Gorian

Ocean Tales Children's Books Series - Sarah Cullen & Zuzana Sbodová

Jake the Growling Dog - Samantha Shannon

Webcomics

Africa - Arven92

After Honour - genstaelens

Awka - Nothofagus-obliqua

Arax - Azany

Amarith - Eredhys

The Apple's Echo - Helianthanas

Alone - Magpeyes

The Blackblood Alliance - KayFedewa

The Betrothed - Kibisca

Black Tyrant - Zapp-BEAST

Blue - HunterBeingHunted

Beast Tags - TheRoomPet

Spy - Utahraptor93

Be Reflected in my Eyes - Aquene-lupetta

Carry your voice - TacoBella

Caelum Sky - ALRadeck

Crescent Wing - Mikaley

Crescent Moonlight - AnimalCrispy

City of Trees - SanjanaIndica

Corpse - doeprince/ratt

Darbi - Sherard Jackson

The Devils Demons - Therbis

Doe of Deadwood - Songdogx

Dyten - Therbis

Desperation - PracticelImagination

Equus Siderae - Dalgeor

Empyrean - Leonine-Skies

Enchantment - FeralWolf1234

Fox Fires - Pipilia

Forget me Not - Nitteh

Fjeld - Dachiia

Felinia - Rainy-bleu

Golden Shrike - doeprince/ratt

Ghost of the Gulag - David Derrick Jr.

Horse Age - BUGHS-22

Hiraeth - AFlameThatNeverDies

Half-Blood - majkaria

Horns of Light - ThatMoonySky

I Hope So - Detective Calico

The Ivory Walk - TacoBella

I'm not Ready - Wolfkingdom372

Jet and Harley - doeprince

Kestrel Island - Silverphoenix

Kin - Fienduredraws

KuroMonody - IrisBdz

Krystal - Nitteh

The King of Eyes - CloverTailedFox09

Legend of Murk - Azany

LouptaOmbra - Loupta Ombra (OngakuK, MlleNugget & joeypony)

Leopards bring rain - Kyriuar

Mazes of Filth - petitecanine

Minimal All You Are - mike-princeofstars

Nine Riders - SpiriMuse

No Man's Land - TacoBella

Never seen the Day - R3dk3y

Norra - shadowmirku

Obsidian Fire - SolinaBright

Oren's Forge - teagangavet

Off-White - Akreon

Out Of Time - IndiWolf

Rabbit on the Moon - Songdogx & Nitteh

The Rabbit Hole - Detrah

RunningWolf Mirari - Mirella Menciassi

Raptor - ElenPanter

Redriver - FireTheWolf777

Repeat - Songdogx

Scurry - Mac Smith

Simbol - Zoba22

Spirit Lock - Animal Crispy

The Sylcoe - Denece-the-sylcoe

Sunder - Aurosoul

Tainted Hearts - Therbis

Taxicat - owlburrow

That's Freedom Guyra - Nothofagus-obliqua

Three Corners: A Kitten's Story - Lara Frizzell

Tofauti Sawa - TheCynicalHound

Two of a Kind - ProjectNao

To Catch a Star - SleepySundae

Under the Ash Tree - ChevreLune

Uninvited - Nothofagus-obliqua

Water Wolves - LuckyStarhun

What Lurks Beneath - ArualMeow

Water Wolves - LuckyStarhun

Wild Wolves - Lombarsi

White Tail - SleepySundae

What's your damage? - FrostedCanid

The Wolves of Chena - Yamis-Art

Waves Always Crash - Hellhunde

The Whale's Heart - Possumteeeth [Warriors Fancomic]

Manga

A Centaur's Life - Murayama Kei

Beastars - Paru Itagaki

Chi's Sweet Home - Kanata Konami

Ginga Series [Silverfang] - Yoshihiro Takahashi

Gon - Masashi Tanaka

Houseki no Kuni | Land of the Lustrous - Haruko Ichikawa

Inugami-Kai - Masaya Hokazono

The Jungle Emperor - Osamu Tezuka

My roommate is a cat - Minatsuki & Asu Futatsuya

Crimsons – The Scarlet Navigators of the Ocean - Kanno Takanori

Rooster Fighter - Shū Sakuratani

Simoun - Shō Aikawa

The Fox & Little Tanuki - Mi Tagawa

Yuria 100 Shiki - Nobuto Hagio

Massugu ni Ikou - Kira

Cat Soup

The Amazing 3

Cat + Gamer - Wataru Nadatani

Animated Series

101 Dalmatians: The series & 101 Dalmatian Street

A Polar Bear in Love

Baja no Studio

Bagi: Monster of Mighty Nature

Bannertail: The Story of Gray Squirrel

Bluey

Centaurworld (2021)

Chirin's Bell

Chironup no Kitsune

Dokkun Dokkun

Gamba no Bouken

Hazbin Hotel

Invader ZIM

Inu to Neko Docchi mo Katteru to Mainichi Tanoshii

King Fang

Koisuru Shirokuma

Kemushi no Boro

Kewang Lantian

Konglong Baobei: Shiluo De Wenming

Little Polar Bear

Manxmouse's Great Activity

Mitsubachi Maya no Bouken

Mikan Enikki

Massugu ni Ikou -

My Life as a Teenage Robot

Mikan Enikki

Ore, Tsushima

Okashi na Sabaku no Suna to Manu

Primal

Polar Bear Cafe

Robotboy (2005)

Seton Doubutsuki: Risu no Banner

Simoun

The Amazing 3

Tottoko Hamtarou

The Adventure of Qiqi and Keke

Tama & Friends: Third Street Story

Watership Down (2018) & Watership Down (1999)

What's Michael?

Wolf's Rain

Wonder Pets

Live-Action/Hybrid show

Fantasy High

A Crown of Candy

Burrow's End

Good Omens

Webseries

Dinosauria - Dead Sound

My Pride - tribbleofdoom

Whitefall - Chylk

The Stolen Hope - Galemtido

Dragon's Blood - FluffyGinger

Helluva Boss -

Murder Drones -

Short Films

Alone a wolf's winter

Baja's Studio

Beautiful Name

Burrow

Cat Piano

Cat Soup

Chicken Little

Far From the Tree

Ferdinand the Bull

Frypan Jiisan

Genji Fantasy: The Cat Fell in Love With Hikaru Genji

Gaitou to Neko

Hao Mao Mimi

Houzi Dian Bianpao

Je T'aime

Kitbull

Lava

Lambert the sheepish lion

Laoshu Jia Nu

Mahoutsukai no Melody

Monmon the Water Spider

Mushroom - Nakagawa Sawako

Of Mice and Clockworks

Osaru no Tairyou

Piper

Robin Robin

Rusuban

Sauria - Dead Sound

Smash and Grab

Street of Crocodiles

She and Her Cat

Space Neko Theater

Shiroi Zou | White Elephant

Shi | Food

Sugar, With a Story

Straw-saurus NEO

The Chair

The Blue Umbrella

The Shell Shocked Egg

The Dog Door

The Dog In The Alley

That's Why They Were Made

Ushigaeru

With a Dog AND a Cat, Every Day is Fun

Zhui Shu

Animated Films

101 Dalmatians duology

A Monkey's Tale (1999)

All Dogs go to Heaven

The Adventures of Lolo the Penguin

Alpha and Omega saga

An American Tail

The Aristocats

Antz

Animals United

Annabelle's Wish (1997)

Alakazam the great (1960)

Back Outback

Balto

Bambi / Bambi II

Bolt

Brother Bear / Brother Bear II

A Bug's Life

The Big Bad Fox and Other Tales

Bee Movie

The Brave Little Toaster

Birds of a Feather

Back to the Forest

Cars

Chance

Chicken Run

Dinosaur

Speckles: The Tarbosaurus || Dino King: Journey to Fire Mountain

Dumbo

DC League of Super-Pets

Elemental

Fantastic Mr. Fox

Fantastic Planet

Felidae

The Fox and the Hound

Finding Nemo/Finding Dory

Free Birds

The Fearless Four

The Good Dinosaur

Ghost in the Shell

Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio

Happy Feet/Happy Feet Two

Help! I'm a Fish

Home on the Range

Hoero! Bun Bun Movie

Hokkyoku no Muushika Miishika

Ice Age Franchise

Isle of Dogs

I Am T-Rex

Jungledyret Hugo

Koati

The King of Tibetan Antelope

Kuma no Gakkou trilogy

Lady and the Tramp

The Land Before time Franchise

The Last Unicorn

Leafy, A Hen in the wild

Little Big Panda

The Lion King Franchise

Lucky and Zorba

Lilo & Stitch

Luca

Last Day of the Dinosaurs

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Marona's Fantastic Tale

Millionaire Dogs

My Friend Tyranno

Minuscule: Valley of the Lost Ants || Minuscule - Mandibles from Far Away

Mouse and His Child

Nezumi Monogatari: George to Gerald no Bouken

Oliver & Company

One Stormy Night

Over the Edge

Padak

The Plague Dogs

Pompoko

Pinocchio by Guillermo del Toro

Pipi Tobenai Hotaru

Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure

Rango

Ratatouille

Raven the Little Rascal

Reynard the Fox (1989)

Rio

Robots

Rock a Doodle

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1998)

The Rabbi’s Cat

Samson and Sally

Sahara

The Secret of Nihm

The Secret Life of Pets/The Secret Life of Pets II

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron

Sheep & Wolves

The Seventh Brother

A Stork's Journey

Stowaways on the Ark

A Turtle's Tale

The One and Only Ivan

Toy Story

Twilight of the Cockroaches (1987)

The Trumpet of the Swan

The Enchanted Journey

Unico

Underdog

Vuk the Little Fox

WALL·E

Watership Down (1978)

White Fang

Wizards

The Wild

Wolf Children

Wolfwalkers

You Are Umasou

Zootopia

Live Action/CGI Assisted Movies

Au Hasard Balthazar

Beverly Hills Chihuahua franchise

Cats & Dogs franchise

Charlotte's Web

Fluke (1995) - Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Homeward Bound duology (1963 & 1996) - Disney

The Legend of Lobo (1962) - Disney

Strays (2023) - Universal Pictures

Pride (2024) - BBC

101 Dalmatians duology (1996 & 2000)

Documentary

March of the Penguins

Meerkat Manor

Lemur Street

Gangs of Lemur Island

Orangutan Island

Prairie Dog Dynasty

Chimp Empire

Monkey Thieves

Monkey Kingdom

Theather

Cats

Videogames

Animalia Survival - High Brazil Studio

Cattails - Falcon Development

Endling: Extinction is Forever

Gibbon: Beyond the trees - Broken Rules

The Lonesome Fog - Might and Delight

Meadow - Might and Delight

Niche - Stray Fawn Studio

Shelter / Shelter 2/ Shelter 3 - Might and Delight

Paws - Might and Delight

Stray - BlueTwelve Studio

The WILDS - Gluten Free Games

Wolf Quest - eduweb

Golden Treasure: The Great Green - Dreaming Door Studios

Spirit of the North - Infuse Studio

Ōkami - Clover Studio

Rain World - Videocult

Feather - Samurai Punk

Eagle Flight - Ubisoft Montreal Studio

Copoka - Inaccurate Interactive

Untitled Goose Game - House House

PaRappa - NanaOn-Sha

Night in the Woods - Infinite Fall & Secret Lab

Monster Prom - Beautiful Glitch

Them's Fightin' Herds - Mane6

Toontown

E.V.O.: Search for Eden - Givro Corporation

(Pretty much most of Might and Delight games)

Online Browser Games

Lioden

Wolvden

Flight Rising

Lorwolf

Table Top Games

Bunnies & Burrows

Chronicles of Darkness

Wanderhome

Mage: The Awakening

Werewolf: The Apocalypse

Pugmire

Three Raccoons in a Trench Coat

World Tree (RPG)

Pawpocalypse

Heckin' Good Doggos

Humblewood

Dungeons & Dragons

Music

In My Eyes You're a Giant - Sonata Arctica

It Won't Fade - Unia

The Cage - Winterheart's Guild

Other Online Projects

Youtubers

Cardinal West

Xenofiction Reviews

Gen. Videos

Trope Talk: Small Mammal on a Big Adventure by Overly Sarcastic Productions

youtube

Franchises

Sonic the Hedgehog

My little pony

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Hamtaro

Pokemon

Digimon

Kirby

Monter High

Tom & Jerry

Baldur’s Gate

Maya the Bee

The Little Polar Bear

#xenofiction #fantasy #masterlist #wip #scifi #fiction #Youtube

123 notes · View notes

rise-my-angel · 5 months

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

28 - The Clash of Three Kings

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.9k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, mentions of past character death, descriptions of gore and violence, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, slight exhibitionism kink

Notes: No crazy revelations occured right at the end of the last chapter right? Nah, I'm sure everything is fine and dandy as always. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

The sun was shining so abnormally bright it verged on painful to look at, but through the harsh squinting you persisted through the brush. A strange overcoming of determination within your veins the closer you got washed over you, the memory of what came before having you go faster as you traversed the terrain towards the mouth of the mine.

Hardly what would normally be called a mine, it was more a series of tunnels which as soon as were accessed deep enough, housed a shining variety of a kind of rock little spoken of by any except for you on this very island. Surrounded by life of the once Targaryean dynasty it was impossible to avoid their impacts left on Dragonstone. Their mark left on the castles with fire, dragons, and three hundred years of using this place as a second spot to rule over away from the capitol.

You scarcely ever had a reason to use such aspects of that childhood home. To you, it was not a terrifying island that one homed the infamous dragon riders and conquerors. But an isolating home that left you with no real friends to speak of, a big and vast castle home that made hiding away too easy. The terrain of jagged cliffs and curtain hangs that lead from impenetrable shore rocks as a shield from the outside world leading deep into the woods that homed the volcano of Dragonmont. Yet to you, it wasn’t that which you spent time in.

It was the curiosity of tunnels underground and in caves and mines which sparked your attention. You had no friends nor siblings, and little lived near the castle that were not other adults or children just too old to want to play with a five year old. So you explored, and that was how you found the tunnels, and in those tunnels, you learned the trickier the climb down, the more you found. One day, you had tossed a torch far down the middle of a shaft to see how far it went, and as it thudded against the bottom you saw shining rocks that looked like crystals that had you learn to climb all alone to find out what they were.

You liked exploring the mines as a girl with no friends and nothing to do, but now as you approached one of those very tunnels, it was not the adventure you sought.

It was the very shining crystal like rocks that were spoken to be an answer to a freezing horror far beyond the North.

The four of you were deep into the woods surrounding the outer borders of Dragonmont, coming close enough that looking high in the sky your neck would crane up with a squint to see the increasingly warm air was also thick and heavy in your lungs due to the smoke smoothly simmering from the very top. It had done so since you were born, you hardly noticed it despite Theon, Ryk and Tormund glancing at the other with questioning gazes at how little it winded you.

Many of the entrances were not easily accessible. Dragonglass had never once been mentioned in the books of Westerosi history to be of any importance, so it all sat underground as a natural deposit the realm cared not to trade. The only times it was whispered such tunnels were used was in the very beginning of it’s existence which mattered. The Doom of Valyria had survived none but the family named Targaryean, and with them as they fled brought with them both dragons and dragon eggs.

Deep underground found by none were rumoured to be hatcheries that sat so hot under the volcano that it was the only place they could be born, their dragons. The volcano ran deep under the depths of the water and so it couldn’t be as simply as that, but also no such thing had been found. Once they took over the lands by force and death, their dragons were instead bred from which they could use them the most, and the Dragonpit of King’s Landing was created. The space of the island and how little could be grown or harvested there, it made no sense to you to think raising such terrors of the sky could be sustainable.

Most of Dragonstone’s biggest import were harvested crops, grain, vegetables and freshly kept livestock to feed with. It was a place built to terrify, but it seemed the Targaryeans had begun their dynasty of unsustainabiity so early that a lifeless rock of heat and brimstone was seen as a place to raise such creatures. If their eggs hatched under the grounds of Dragonmont, you could only think how foolish it was to do so. Whatever tunnels which existed once, were no more then crawling spaces that would terrify the untrained, and certainly not to drag eggs in to hatch and hope they survive.

Coming up to a jagged formation of stones sat against a rolling cliff side, you had been the first to get off your horse. Tying it to a tree without a word to your three companions as you begun to walk around the area with narrowed, squinting eyes to seek out signs that this was one of the spots you left behind.

“What are we looking for exactly?”

Tormund had called out to you, but you scarcely heard. It had to be here somewhere, you thought. A set of feet all walked over to where you looked at the stones, as they looked with a raised eyebrow and confused expressions. Only it took not much longer for it to come to your vision, a small carving at the very edge of a stone had you crouch down by it, and without a second word begun to pull the heavy rock out. Tossing it with heave down to the side, and there one sat.

All three men came to your side glancing into the darkness as you somewhat tried to see in, only to lean back out, gesturing to Theon to grab you the bag by your horse. Tossing some of it to he and Tormund from what was inside, “Should be something in there to make a torch of.”

As you somewhat climbed partially into the smaller entrance, body half inside with one gloved hand braced at the top as you looked around the sight. It was too dark for any to see properly once deep enough, but you knew these tunnels so much it was like it had been lit up already.

Turning back, you reached out as Theon handed you the lit torch and finally all watched you lean back under and half inside to see, and then the faintest of a grin fell over your lips. Moving the rest of the way in, you had not waited for the three to follow as you walked along the top surface, torch high as you continued along, lighting up small loose torches that had sat untouched the years between this visit and the last in here, having left them yourself when still exploring.

“Not exactly what I imagined when you said there was a shit ton of it.”

Looking back partially towards Theon with a raised eyebrow before your face fell flat. Picking up one of the torches you handed it to him while adding to its fire, as Tormund kept the area lit with another.

Walking up to the edge you leaned close and tossed the lit flame down, gesturing for them with a nod to peak themselves. As the flames landed down far at the bottom of the cavern, there was a twinkling glow around it that flashed up to your eyes in some spots. Tormund’s eyes were wide and a tinge of impressed as his voice muttered out, “Better start climbing then.”

There were rings dug deep into the stone along the drop down, places as it to slide a torch within to see as multiple climbing digs were embedded along as well. “Some of these I put in when I was still a girl, be sure to check they are stable before stepping down onto any.”

Tormund himself eyed Ryk climbing next to him with a condescending grin plastered, “Hear that, Longspear? We got no way of carrying you back up, means if you fall, best try and die when you do it.”

Rolling your eyes with a tinge of playful, you and Theon flickered your glances with amusement as you all made your way down. This one, was far easier. The rocks more forgiving of any tools, there was light and no need to keep so quiet as your time could be taken all of your own choosing. Each descend far enough, you and Ryk at each end would stay back to move your only two sources of fire down to each new metal hold you both would stake into the cave wall, intending later that very day to fill them all with proper lighting along with the rest of your work.

You had intended to do this first part alone, simply getting here and making any sources of light to see a path but you had been seen awake far too early for any soul by Tormund. He had noticed the distance in your eyes that spoke of something he realized had no clues given to him over it, and your only admission that there was just much to think about that made you struggle to sleep was begged to be dropped.

So he woke Ryk, or moreso, dragged him out of sleep with force and rumbled to him about not sitting around on his ass. Theon didn’t sleep well either, but he never did anymore. So when he had found you by where one of the guards guided him to the kitchens in the confusing halls, he had come across you gathering water. “You’re up way too early.” He had jested.

You rose an eyebrow at him, before nodding at his own person with a flat, “So what are you doing here then?” Unlike Tormund, you knew Theon could see something had not just woken you up, but something had kept you up and for how alert your eyes were, you were awake since before the sun dawned over the sea. You had mentioned getting an early start on the tunnels, and that sorted that out.

Telling you to not leave before he could grab what he, himself needed. Not asking if he could help or join and you didn’t even think about it. A strange little trio of climbers was this group turning out to become. And luckily for you, two of them were dynamic enough to speak most of the silence, and Theon had found it easier over time to converse more like a normal person and spoke for you on the climb down the cave wall.

But there was something in your eyes that Theon didn’t know, and it was odd to him at this point between the pair of you that he found something he had no clue how to read between your stoic expressions.

He also, were he to be honest much later on, wished he knew before hand that when he would wake up some hours after you all took off, Jon would have not a single clue where you had gone all day. He would’ve at least requested a guard inform him rather then let the King in the North be blindsided by it, but once you were focused heavily on something, you tended to forget many details of the world around you.

But as all four reached the bottom of the cavern, Theon and Tormund stood by the other and only when the torch light beside both of them from Ryk and yourself came to light up more of the sight, did the visions around come into view of the reality. The walls grew darker as the lower it had become and around the four of you was a shine.

The walls were high and paths off shooting from high up and low down, but everywhere were darker spots of stone that weren’t quite fitting with the rest. In large chunks deeply framing the cave walls with twists and turns and edges that spiked out with jagged amounts it all sat around looking far more dark and otherworldly then even the black stone made of the castle above. Looking all around each of you walked the bottom, you handing up the torch in your hand and snatching up the one laying at the bottom still flaming away. Stabbing another metal loop into a chunk of normal rock you hung it up on another wall, each man around you with a quiet in their eyes.

Your head turned high, and the reflective glass like rock stared back as if hiding another world in it’s depths below the dark and heavy air of the lands. None heard your breathless whisper and none needed to, you could feel the necklace sitting against your chest and that was all you needed. “I told you I’d take you down here one day.” Her bright eyes were clear as day as you could almost smile imagining Shireen by your side with wonder as she looked around the ethereal cavern.

“So, what now?”

Your body turning back to the three men as Tormund glanced to you. Chest rising and falling heavy with a deep inhale and subsequent exhale, you pulled out a bag attached close to your side and tossed it to him while your other hand pulled out rope hiding along under the back of your cloak. “We start digging paths around the tunnels.”

Ryk glanced up curiously, “How many tunnels lead into here?”

Shrugging you knew of many but lost count of many others. “More then I’ve ever explored. This isn’t the only one either, there are caches all around the island that don’t even lead into the other. But this was the biggest one to start with that I know my way around well enough.”

There was no more reason to stand around in awe, you all had a long day ahead of you.

The fact that few seemed to even question where you were didn’t sit well with him. Those all working in the castle of Dragonstone seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary that you had not appeared anywhere within the walls or the grounds.

It didn’t quite feel good, waking up that morning to find not only were you not still laying in bed with him, but then Jon couldn’t seem to find you anywhere and once more he was keeping down a panic of something he was trying very hard to keep to himself. It was in his eyes though, and as he finally came across Stannis he was fairly certain he did a poor job of hiding it. His rough, low tones did not make the matter any less subtle to the keen eyed Baratheon.

Both stood near the other by the giant table, what seemed to be the room used most from the Baratheons as the meeting hall, the very top room of the main Stone Drum tower. Carved and painted to look just like Westeros from Dorne to the Wall, Jon had been there first. A guard escorting him to where he was told Stannis would like to meet with him having not a clue yet where things in this confusing mess of a castle were. Running his hand along the surface with narrowed eyes before coming to the end of the table.

Some feet behind him was the splashes of the sea and morning sun shining onto the surface, lighting up where Dorne had been placed by the edge. Only moments before, his curiosity had him picking up a wooden figurine that had been dropped close to the Prince’s Pass. A wooden dragon figure had been cracked and split down the middle as the other lay alone whereas everything else on the board was placed with careful precision.

“I don’t need them to believe me, but as long as we’re here I’d rather give them the chance to help instead of sitting in the dungeons as prisoners.”

He and Stannis disagreed on bringing Aegon and Jon Connington up from their cells to discuss any terms of peace. “You are optimistic, too much so. You asked of them for cooperation and they forced your men to the shores to fight, why would they change their attitudes now?”

Jon however, felt not the grudge or anger many expected of his enemies but instead an understanding in his eyes were bright as he willed the man across from him to listen. “If Aegon wants to leave, fight other battles for the Iron Throne then he can leave. But they won’t stop at coming for us, they’ll come for them as well too. At least give me the chance to explain that.” Stannis looked doubtful, and Jon’s tone was a bit lighter if quieter as he leaned forward. “He could be a useful ally.”

The rigidness that responded however was unconvinced. “If he’s his father’s son the only use he would be is rotting in a dungeon as far from any crown as possible.” Jon only challenging him on if he wasn’t, and Stannis looked almost through him for a moment to think. “I would very much doubt he is any different, but you are right. We can give he and Lord Connington that chance.”

Nodding, in agreement, Stannis gestured to his own men to bring Lord Connington up. Seeing Jon’s questioning gaze he simply explained, “He will be the easier starting point. There is something of bad blood between Baratheons and Targaryeans, after all.”

He hadn’t had as much of a look at Aegon as he had Connington, but Jon still couldn’t help but try and envision the man he came here in claimant of. How similar were father and son, and how much of those similarities would prove to be foreboding once more? His voice barley above a whisper as his fingers dug into the table where he kept himself braced against. “What was he like?” Stannis looked to him with a flat expression save for a raised eyebrow, “Rhaegar Targaryean? Everyone talks about what the Mad King was like, but..”

He was once more envious of your families ability to remain so steady and unaffected by anything, when Jon could hear his fathers voice telling stories of his Uncle, his Grandfather. The ones he would never meet and how it was their deaths that started the war. Or how he struggled to ever bring up his sister, Jon’s Aunt, the one whose kidnapping was the catalyst for the war to have come. Those pains never really went away for his father, and truthfully, the entire family as well.

Now the only remaining child of Eddard Stark and not even the one called Stark in name, and yet all that pain fell onto Jon’s shoulders. It felt odd to think.

“It differs depending on who you ask. Most who served under him would think of him as charming and brave.” Somehow Jon thought to himself, he doubted that. “If you asked my brother Robert, he would have told you he was a monster. An abomination that some twenty four years later still made him just as angry as he did when he was alive.”

Jon’s eyes were far away, a glazed over distance trying to reconcile such drastic ends. “And you?” A hum of question leaving Stannis’s throat. “What would you say about him?”

It wasn’t however a casual feeling which sat in Stannis’s eyes even though he tried to portray it in his even tone. “It is as I said. There is bad blood between House Targaryean and Baratheon, and that bad blood did not end with Robert. You seem very willing to cooperate with the boy, and his father has wronged your family more then my own.”

He could be angry, but he also knew that wasn’t where his anger lay. It wasn’t trapped within vessels of a past he would never know, it was in the present he needed to protect. “If he isn’t anything like Rhaegar, I want to give him a chance to prove it.”

It was difficult to read, but it seemed as if a bit of pride sat behind Stannis’s eyes. “You are a more forgiving man then most.”

Jon only felt his knuckles strain against the flexing pressure he leaned against them with. “No, I’m not. But I am patient enough to give him the benefit of the doubt first.” Not to which he would say it out loud, but he was glad he never saw the fight between Aegon and you. He wasn’t so sure he would have that same patience had he seen the dragon against you as such.

He had asked enough people in the castle, he didn’t need to come off as over protective in front of your own father by asking where you were, but it itched inside Jon’s chest not to do so anyways. He couldn’t let himself spiral, not to obsess over the fear that every single dark, and perverse thought which came pouring out of his mouth the night before had chased you away. You had responded more eager then what his heart could handle. He couldn’t stand there and let himself lose control over it, not now.

Not in front of what was about to be a meeting full of no doubt awkward discussions of the North, as he knew he was the only firm source between he and Stannis to portray the extend to which this issue was not the North’s alone.

But it still lingered in fear as the two of them waited. Had he said something in such raw honesty that in some way over stepped your marriage to Robb? Had he simply been too vulgar with you? Or worse, too rough? Not a single spec of the world existed that night other then the two of you entangled together in front of the fire, but perhaps in the light of morning it was too much for you to look back on.

Maybe Jon thought, he needed to ease up with you. That perhaps it was his intensity which scares you.

It was a blessing which none here cared about keeping up proper appearances. Deep underground was boiling enough without the amount of movement you all were doing, coating you in sweat, grime, and occasionally blood if you weren’t careful enough. Most of the day was spent either climbing along the walls, or on your stomach or back pulling through tight tunnels to map out in detail.

The open spaces only grew to be more vast. A dark glass like stone that shined black as if it were reflecting right off of the night sky, and sat all around in crystal like formations along the walls as if growing on there. You wondered how much it would shine and glow were the sun to open up inside of these walls.

Not every rock was made of Dragonglass, but it was painted so heavily along the walls you felt utterly surrounded by it, despite the heat however every touch to your skin was cool.

Currently, you were perched on a small tunnel space, trying to carve out the simple rock against the walls so it was easier for one to crawl though, knowing it opened up from what the flames hinted at was a vast cavern which you suspected led to much more. Not too far from you was Theon, digging supports into the walls making climbing much easier then the free kind you all had to do to get to this point.

Somewhere off in nearby tunnels you could hear the muffled bickering of Tormund and Ryk as any chuckling or laughter boomed off the walls and echoed all up to the surface.

“How do you know so much about all of this?” Turning your head down and to the side from where you had been reaching up, you almost coughed as you accidentally let some of the gravel fall too close to your face. Raising your eyebrow with a grimace, Theon gestured around him. “Dragonglass, how’d you know this was all here in the first place?”

Hands dropping down to the stone below, you glanced up to where you could see the circling of torches finally having lit the cave up to see without issue, the licking flames all fading in brightness the closer to the surface and further the black dragonglass faded into merely dark stone. Dropping your gaze back to him only briefly as you returned to your task. Voice a bit far away even in there. “I used to explore these tunnels often as a girl. There wasn’t much else to do on Dragonstone and I didn’t have any friends, so I started working my way through these tunnels.”

You had missed something a bit sad behind Theon’s eyes, but it was there in his softer tone. “So you spent your days crawling and climbing through mines hoping to what? Find something special?”

Huffing a laugh, you winced trying to knock out a more difficult stone in the way which was attached to the edge of dragonglass, a very difficult kind of rock to cut through with the tools at hand. “Those in the villages say that the Targaryeans built rooms in here, places to hatch their dragon eggs near the heat of the volcano, lit by never ending fires and wooden pathways which long rotted to the ground. I only ever found more cave, no dragons, no magical rooms. Just rock and tight spaces.”

“You believe that? That something special made their dragons hatch here?”

You huffed another strained laugh, not even looking at him. “Not for a second. Most of them were born in Kings Landing during their dynasty. No great fire, no volcano, just a dragonpit to hatch their eggs in. If Dragonstone was so special, they would have been breeding them here far before Valyria fell.”

You were beginning to regret keeping your skin of water so close to the ground, squinting down to decide if the path was worth it before ultimately deciding to just endure. Theon had begun working away at the stones and spikes once more, speaking through the hammering. “Would have loved to see one, though.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” His head whipped over to you, but you shrugged before turning away again as you elaborated. “Robert destroyed most of what the Targaryeans had left, but under the Red Keep in their own tunnels there is still a massive dragon skull. Must have thought it too big, or it was an artifact and so he hid it away. But it was huge, could stand up in it’s mouth and still not reach top to bottom.” Grimacing as you tore off finally a more difficult piece, you sighed out. Dropping your arms to look at Theon properly. “If you ask me, something that big flying around breathing fire? We’re better off them all being dead.”

“You really think so?”

Instead of the amusement he expected, there was nothing but a darker glint behind your eyes as you saw fire. Wildfire exploding before you in bright greens that had men screaming and clawing at their own burning skin, and that was nothing compared to what it was said dragonfire could do. “Dragons don’t plant trees. They don’t create, they don’t build. They destroy. Creatures like that, have no place in the kind of world people like us are trying to fight for.”

Your voice was rough, a gritting that grated against you throat like sand as you begged for water and a soothing honey to warm it down as you continued, finding Theon’s eyes properly. “Dragons only know death and destruction, and as soon as they were gone, Targaryeans had nothing left to trick us into thinking they were special. They aren’t special for being able to ride dragons. Nothing is special about controlling a creature whose only purpose is to destroy.”

Your mind floating off to a thought you had come down here so early in the morning to avoid. A thud came from one of the higher tunnels, Tormund making his way out and calling your attention over. “How many places do you have shit stashed around this place?” A scattering of old tools now sitting in an ever growing pile.

You almost found it in you to laugh, “I was down here all alone most times. I wanted to make sure I always had tools and ropes in case I ran into issue with what I climbed down with.”

Tormund shook his head in his own amusement. “If I wasn’t sure Snow would skewer me in my sleep for it, I’d have told these other two to piss off hours ago, pretty crow.”

If Theon was posed to defend you, it was almost nice for him to see how easily you laughed and how relaxed you responded with no hesitation or fear of any real intent behind the words. “The day is young yet, Tormund.”

The manner in which Jon Connington was looking at him, continued to make him feel a slight bit on edge. Glancing up on multiple occasions with a squinting gaze that bordered on something like curiosity or leaning towards judgment. All three men at least were able to stay calm and steady during the course of their discussions, but it seemed that the Southerners continue to have no reason to believe in the things whispered beyond the wall.

“I’m not the one who needs convincing. You’ve taken the island for yourselves, I can’t stop you from doing whatever you want here nor have you given me a reason to care. But if Aegon doesn’t agree to it, then that’s where this all ends.”

Trying to be reasonable was more difficult then Jon initially imagined. Connington and Stannis seemed to be the pair at odds as long as it was the two of them in the room. One firm in his dedication to his King, the other a stubborn King himself motivated by harsh belief. They wanted to make this once more about the Iron Throne as if that was what mattered and Jon could feel the frustration in his veins rising.

Glancing up at Ser Davos, both men shared a glance with the mutual understanding that they were all getting nowhere. Cutting into Stannis’s response, Jon raised his voice over to overpower the whole room instead. “Lord Connington, I was the one who wrote to him. I asked for peace, to stay here together beacuse what I’m fighting for has nothing to do with the Iron Throne. None of this had to happen this way, we could have all stood here and talked this out yesterday but it was Aegon who forced us to fight.”

Connington’s eyes narrowed slightly, a strange wonder still behind them that was beginning to make Jon wish Ghost was with him. Commonly whatever intentions were behind someone’s eyes if Jon didn’t catch it, and you weren’t here to catch it, then Ghost would. But as he spoke, he peeled his eyes from Jon to look once more at Stannis. “Yet you failed to mention the ally at your side was also a King fighting for that same throne. Doesn’t sound like the peaceful course of action to me.”

Not wavering once, Jon had no care for the insinuation. “I don’t speak for Stannis Baratheon. He joined this fight of his own choice, not mine. And this is his home your men invaded.”

“And I suppose then it has nothing to do with it also being your wife’s girlhood home either.” His tone was doubtful and sharp but it clearly took both Jon, Davos, and Stannis back for a moment.

Stannis glanced quickly towards him, but Jon had to keep whatever he thought that look meant internalized. “All that meant is that she and Stannis know this castle, this land. We knew whatever fight there was, would be short if we had two of them who knew this castle in more detail then you or I ever could.” If Jon simply didn’t address it then he didn’t have to fight off the echos in his head from coming to consume him in fear of it being a step too far.

“Marry me, let me take you home and marry me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Gods help him, Jon was so deep inside of you when that came clawing out of his mouth. He wasn’t supposed to pressure you into that, didn’t want you to assume he wished to replace Robb. But you had felt so good around him, and he had been pounding into you so roughly at that point he was barley in control of what he was saying. Nearly anything could’ve come out of his mouth.

Jon at least considered himself lucky that the worst, most lewd and unhinged parts of those thoughts still remained locked away in his head like a caged animal. If he scared you from his arms last night, he dared not think what giving into those desires entirely would terrify you of.

Connington didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t argue back on that point. Taking a moment to think before his eyes remained on the table at first. “This is not an agreement to work together,” eyes flickering back up between the two men. “But should Aegon decide he finds utility in this..cause of yours, then I would be willing to broker an arrangement with my men to be of some assistance. Only, if Aegon agrees though. Otherwise we are going to have a problem on our hands.”

Nodding to Stannis very subtly, the man himself moved to speak to a pair of his guards as Jon and Connington looked at the other. Your name slipped from the laters mouth, “May I ask why she did not attend this meeting? Seems odd for a Queen not to be present for such a matter.”

Luck found more on it’s way to Jon’s side as Stannis's tone was flat, smooth and without a hesitation. “She had other duties which needed attending too.”

Whatever hints of an intensity reminding Conning so heavily of Rhaegar, were no longer shining clear in his eyes. And he felt uncomfortable with the fact that he felt relieved at such a sight.

Jon Connington could see without any doubt however, that Aegon was in some of the worst of spirits as he accompanied guard to get him. Eyes narrowed and angry that struggled to let up even when one came into sight of the other. Standing up quickly, he approached the iron bars in an instant. “Are you alright?”

He was taken back. Not the question he was expecting from Aegon, his head jolting back a little bit before shaking his head. “I’m fine, been through far worse then this. Are you alright?” Putting more emphasis towards his own fairing.

Aegon swallowed harshly, shrugging one shoulder even though his voice was as rough as gravel. “Good as any humiliated prisoner can be. Suppose all the men out there had a good laugh at my loss.”

Connington’s eyes felt a bit, tinted something washed over with a sorrow as he stepped forward. “Listen to me- Aegon.” His voice growing louder with no room for question. Not a way a man speaks to a King, but rather like a father to a son, and both parties didn’t speak of how they both felt it. “You’ve trained your whole life to be a leader, but you aren’t a soldier. You’ve never fought in a battle before last night, and you were up against an opponent who spent three years fighting in a war. No one, on their side or ours thinks that’s funny.”

For a moment he almost sounded like the child Young Griff used to be, muttering and not quite looking him in the eye as he crossed his arms over his chest. “How am I supposed to convince my people to see me as their King, if I was beaten by a girl the first battle I was in? Would my men follow me now knowing I couldn’t even lead one charge to victory?”

Stepping towards the bars more, Connington rested one gloved hand on the it, wrapping around the iron and dropping his tone, hoping to catch Aegon’s eye. “And I was the one who surrendered to protect you. Yet they still are listening to me just fine. Every good leader fails before he succeeds, and you have only just started. This does not dictate your future, only right now.”

Aegon nodded, and the quiet sat between them for a moment before quietly speaking up once more, “May I ask why you are walking free and I’m still locked away?”

“I’ve spoken to our new hosts.” Aegon raised a half unamused eyebrow, catching back only a glimpse of a smirk on one side of Connington's face. “Jon Snow and Stannis Baratheon have something they would like to propose. A deal of sort, for peace. I want you to hear them out, what they have to say sounds extraordinary but the choice will be up to you.”

As the guards opened the cell door, he spoke louder and this time there was no mistakening the playful but stern tone which most only heard from that of a parent “Aegon, this time when I tell you to follow your first instinct, make sure it’s actually yours. I’m asking you, I’m not asking Rhaegar.”

Only seen by the guards down in those dungeons, as the door opened, both men found the other in a hug that felt far too much like father and son for whose actual son Aegon was supposed to go back being.

If Jon were being entirely honest, this was the ugliest room he had seen by far on Dragonstone. To which judging by the look he shared with Ser Davos beside him, he was not the only one who thought so. The room was wide, tall ceilings above and much of nothing around. Only a large space of grey and black stone as it led up to a small set of stairs and what seemed to be the ruling seat of whoever was lording over the island.

Many years ago, back when you had come to Winterfell after moving with your father to Kings Landing long term, he had asked you if the Iron Throne was as immense and threatening as the stories all spoke of it. He remembered so vividly the flat expression on your face and how utterly monotone you had said it. “It might be the ugliest chair I have ever seen in my life.”

It was spoken to be high in the air and full of swords and spikes melted from those won in Aegon the Conquerors invasion. Many steps to reach just the seat as it loomed over all in the Red Keep. You hadn’t described much of what it truly looked like, but you ensured him it was as disappointing as it was ugly.

The seat at the front of the Great Hall, was the ugly chair Jon always imagined. A window behind it shaped like the face of a dragon and the seat covering much of it was a jagged formation of black stone that had but one flat surface smoothed out into it to sit on. It was almost a bewildered amusement at how different this place was then Winterfell.

There wasn’t even a singular, elaborate seat for lords like this. In Winterfell, the main hall was just a hall, every table, bench and chair looked all the same and there were seats enough where his father would sit that had many other beside him for council as well. This wasn’t suited for that, only for demand and control. Hard too, imagining either you or Stannis even sitting on that chair to do anything.

Much of Dragonstone Jon found, felt like it was created by a people who saw themselves as gods and the more he looked the less he liked any of it. But the final judgment seemed to be lurking around the corner waiting to be brought up.

Stannis coming to join, there was a lack of calm which was the last as they waited before. Ser Davos looked between both men, before glancing to his own attire. “I’m starting to think I’m not wearing nearly enough armour for this. Are we bracing for a fight or a meeting?”

Jon’s voice almost echoed in the vast space of the room. “If he’s willing to listen to what we have to say, there’ll be no need for another fight.”

“Not as if the boy would win.” Jon and Davos both turned to look at Stannis, who only held a glint which almost showed a hint of pride in his eyes.

At least someone was proud of you for that, Jon thought. He certainly wasn’t. Once more the thought crossing through his mind of how little he understood how it was Robb handled it. Every new mark or cut you got in combat only made Jon that much more on edge about having you anywhere near a fight.

He should be proud, and deep inside of him was, how you had gotten yourself this far. But he couldn’t see passed a vision of you soaked in blood. Jon deliberately avoided putting any pressure on your ribs last night, and the sight of the blues and purples Aegon clearly had hammered into you. Aegon was lucky Jon had a far better handle on his temper then he once did.

In a way, all three King’s seemed to stand as opposites. Aegon with a rich and ornate dark armour painted black with a bold red of a three headed dragon draped across the chest plate dramatically, his hair longer like Jon’s, but flat and dyed a stand out blue. He also reached much closer to Stannis’s taller stature. But he was hesitant, something light in his eyes that shined a bold blue matching his hair. He looked like a King but his eyes more like an unsure boy.

Jon on the other hand, knew he looked not much like a King. His armour no more extravagant then any Northerner fighting by his side, only his own House shown just by the small sigil of two direwolves facing one another carved to blend into a small middle of his chest plate. In contrast Jons longer black curls were tied all the way back as matched the grey so dark in his eyes it would appear black in the right light. He stood shorter then Aegon, but with the weight of a leader on his shoulders that the others could see radiated something of authority. That, and Aegon had no sword of his own at this point, while the white wolf pommel of Longclaw sat proud at Jon’s side.

Stannis however, blended into the room. Greys and Blacks in his wardrobe much like what you dressed in the times of war he know knew you in, and were he to stand still he might have disappeared into the walls, and Jon was fairly certain was intentional. If Jon stood as the opposite of what Aegon presented himself as, Stannis stood apart from the flash of what the Targaryeans showed off with.

And Jon knew, Stannis was exactly where you got that habit from too.

The men accompanying them introduced Aegon as he had approached almost as if meant to intimidate with it’s enormity. “I present his grace, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Aegon of the House Targaryean, the sixth of his name.”

It felt like posturing, standing with men of the Golden Company at his back like guard dogs. The only one who stood on the other side of the parties, was Ser Davos. He and Jon shared a look almost speaking silently in a confused question of were they supposed to return the gesture?

Davos, without the decorum of what had just been presented, and if perhaps, just a bit of purposeful simplicity rather then any dramatics. “This is Jon Snow, King in the North. And-”

Aegon interrupted, his voice which sounded more sure and confident then which was spoken of in his eyes directing his attention first to Stannis. “Stannis Baratheon. The King who now stands in my way of the Iron Throne. I have heard much about you, some good, much bad. For someone claiming to be King it seems you are not much known as a popular man.”

If that was a slight, Stannis budged not even part of an inch in care. His voice stern and cold as it was any time he was commanding the room. “Being well liked alone does not make you a King. It only makes you a fool enough to believe that is all it takes to succeed as one. My brother Renly was popular, stood against me and as soon as he passed, all of his bannerman came to my side and have been as loyal since. I do not need my men to like me, to trust me to lead them.”

Aegon looked him in the eye, and there was something held back in his tone that did not speak of the same command. “And once the people have seen the rightful heir return to claim his throne, I am certain we will see which one of us holds the true loyalty of the people.” Stannis barley raised an eyebrow and as Aegon turned his attention to Jon, he knew it was possible the steadfast in how unaffected Stannis was had shifted the air in the dragon to something less confident.

But that confidence did not leave Jon feeling the same. In fact, there was anger in what came out of the dragons mouth. “Now, forgive me, I have not been in Westeros for some years, but I could have sworn that the last King in the North was Torrhen Stark. Who bent the knee to my ancestor, Aegon, the first of his name.” Oh did Jon ever feel a rising heat in his veins begging to lash out. “In exchange for his life and the lives of the Northmen, Torrhen Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. Which if I am not mistaken, means forever.”

The last time he saw Robb was in the courtyards of Winterfell, a small smile on his face as they both stood younger and naive of the pain and blood to follow their separation.

“The next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.”

If he focused enough, Jon could still feel the last hug he ever shared with his brother, his closest companion his entire life. And he felt angry. He knew what Aegon was doing.

Jon’s voice was a deep, angry rasp with eyes flashing to match. “I wasn’t there, I couldn’t tell you what my ancestor did. But you and I both know of the King in the North before me, the one the North chose first was my brother. Robb Stark was the King they declared after three hundred years of your families neglect of my people.” Robb died for the North, and not for a second was Jon going to stand there and let this stranger insult his memory.

Aegon was playing a game though, a game which he knew too many lords and ladies of this country thought was the way to gain power, but Jon only grew more visibly angry this time as he spoke. “An oath is still an oath. You mean to break faith with House Targaryean-”

Jon’s voice this time, did echo through the room. Stepping forward as his own face twisted in an anger as he shut down whatever this was supposed to be. He was not a Stark in name, but his father had four sons, not three. He still had Stark in his blood. “Break faith? Your grandfather burned my grandfather alive, he burned my uncle alive. Your own father-” Not many had heard Jon both yell or speak with anger before and clearly Aegon was not prepared for it.

“Your family has been wronged by mine, I know this. But I am the last of my line.” Connington’s eyes narrowed, as he looked to Aegon but he ignored that look and pushed forward speaking to Jon.

Stannis however, did catch the look given and when both men caught the others gaze, there was something unsettled as Connington realized it. There was one other Targaryean, and if Stannis knew about her, then likely you did too. And Jon Connington did not feel good realizing how little Lord Varys had shared about these people to him beforehand.

Aegon continued, and Jon looked no less angry. If Aegon stood taller in height, Jon stood far taller in demeanour and was much more intimidating. “Our two houses were allies for centuries, and those were seen with peace and prosperity. A Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am The Last Dragon, Jon Snow. Honour the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North, like your father-”

None noticed, but Ser Davos almost smirked. If purposely leaving Robb from his recounting of history was enough to make Jon this mad, then that final comment was the last of his patience. “I'm not standing here arguing about this. There’s no time for that, I don't time for any of this. I mean no offence, your grace, but I don’t know you.”

This time, it was Stannis’s turn to find the amusement. Never once in their disagreements did Jon Snow ever use “your grace” in a drawn out, mocking tone.

But he continued, stepping closer once more to Aegon as his eyes burned darker in black. “As far as I can see, your only claim to the throne rests entirely on your father and grandfather’s name, and my father fought to overthrow the Mad King. No amount of your empty apologies will make right what he did to my family. And certainly not what your father did to my aunt.”

The room was quiet. No one spoke for a moment after that. If there was room for sorry in Aerys Targaryean burning Jon’s grandfather and uncle alive, there was not a single solitary room for forgiveness for what Rhaegar had done to his aunt Lyanna.

Connington spoke after some quiet, Aegon and Jon not taking their eyes off the other the entire time as one brewed with a hesitant uncertainty and the other a deep, hardly contained anger. “King Stannis, I find it odd you are at this mans side. You hold to a claim to the Iron Throne through your brothers lineage, and yet how can you be the one true King of the Seven Kingdoms if you stand next to someone who has stolen the largest half of your Kingdom from you?”

It wasn’t Jon who saw Robb that time, it was Stannis. And the mistake he spent a very long year and a half regretting.

“I did not come here to fight, I came here to find any way to a truce...we have been dragged through the muck of your southern wars for far too long.”

He was calm though, and firm. “The North has been in open rebellion long before Jon Snow was King in the North. His brother Robb Stark claimed Northern independence first and I was ready to fight against him for it. Yet I am fighting at the side of his brother, the next King after him beacuse he has shown me that the true enemy lies far beyond that of King’s Landing.”

Aegon broke eye contact with Jon, and looked to Connington. So this was what he was to prepare himself to hear it seemed, but there was still enough spite from the past twenty four hours that something less then pleasant came rolling of his tongue instead of tucking it away, despite knowing he was better then petty insults. But it came out anyways. “And what does some bastard falsely calling himself King have any right to tell men like you or I what to do?”

You had always called him Snow in playful teasing, and always with a true affection. Focus on that, Jon told himself. Focus on how that never mattered to you, and you made it easier to feel like it shouldn’t matter to him. Don’t stoop to Aegon’s level he warned himself.

Ser Davos it seemed however, was the one who took up the mantle normally taken up by yourself in Jon’s honour. Defending him against leaving his image as nothing more then a bastard boy.

“I know little of your life, your grace, but allow me to shed some light on his if you are so unfamiliar. Jon Snow is the first to make allies between wildlings and Northmen. He was named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He was named King in the North. Not because of some blood or birthright. He has no birthright, beacuse he is a damn bastard. But all those hard sons of bitches you fought against chose him as their leader because they believe in him. His brother didn’t name him his heir for any rights or honour, he did it beacuse he believed in him as his brother, as just a man who does the right thing.”

It felt odd to Jon, hearing someone lay out their belief in him so blatantly, without prompt or question and he found little he could say to stop it. What would he say, he spent his entire life hearing people talk about him in the exact opposite manner, he had no idea how to take such praise.

“All those things we’ve told you about, Lord Connington? He faced those things. He fought those things for the good of his people. He risked everything, took a knife to the heart, gave his own life-”

Wide eyed and almost panicked did Jon turn to Davos and he stopped in a second. The air along the room suddenly turned strange as it was Jon, Davos, and Stannis all in a silent heavy air of something that seemed more serious then a story or rumour.

Jon Connington had told Lord Varys if this King really died then he could come to his shores like a man and show him his heart himself, but he didn’t ever actually expect this as a reaction to such a crazy story to come up.

But Jon took charge and swung the topic as far from what scars lay deep over his heart as possible. “I have seen things you would never imagine, your grace. Winter isn’t coming, it’s already here and if we keep standing here debating whose king of what, everyone we know will die before winter's over, if we don't defeat the enemy to the north.”

You had told him that day on Bear Island that leadership suited him, that his talk alone of the threats to the North were impressive and he hoped that was not just mere flattery. Aegon looked at him, a squint in his eye of curiosity instead of judgment. “And what is the enemy to the north exactly?”

Jon was blunt and no one on his side gave any remote hint of joke or a lack of seriousness. “The Others. They’re here. I’ve seen them, I’ve fought them and even killed one. And they are coming for us with an army of the dead and if we let them get passed the wall and we have no way to protect our own, the only thing that’ll be left to sit on the Iron Throne will be a frozen corpse, and all you’ll be ruling over is a graveyard.”

Aegon's voice was far away as it was breathless in nerves. “The Others have been dead for eight thousand years.”

Stannis was the one to respond, a tone just as heavy as Jon’s beside him. “They have been asleep for eight thousand years. Now they aren’t.”

His tone even, not quite skeptical but something that wasn’t convinced yet not dismissive either as he looked to Jon. “If your raven is to go by, I presume you think such an answer lays beneath the mines here on Dragonstone? What exactly is hiding under the rocks that has you believing it can beat these things?”

“We can destroy them by burning them, and we can destroy them with dragonglass. That’s what I came here for, not to challenge you on this claim or that claim.” The roughness in his tone was one which sent shivers down Aegon’s spine and a steadfast anger in Jon to force people to listen for once. “I’m not asking us to get along. I’m giving you the chance to help fight for the living, fight with us. The same thing is coming for every single person in this realm whether you believe me or not. This is an army that won’t leave the dead on the battlefield. They will just raise them back up to fight against us.”

It was quiet, and one last challenge was left on Aegon’s lips. “And you come to me with this story, and expect me to believe it without a shred of proof. If you want my help, Snow, maybe you shouldn't have come here with an army, and their damned family.” Aegons eyes meeting the dark and unblinking harshness of Stannis's.

Jon’s eyes narrowed. If he was to be so stubborn, he could always drag Aegon beyond the wall and let him look into the eyes of the Others himself. He was tired of this, tired of this nonsense. Of people looking at him and his people like they were crazy, only believing in scary bed side stories. Jon and Tormund lost a lot of good men, women, and children that day in Hardhome, and it had him clenching his jaw painfully that it felt as if these Southerners would have to force such a nightmare to happen to them to finally listen to him.

Only, just as the three men stared the other down did an echoing sound crackle through the hall. The great doors kept watch by guards on the outside slowly begun to crawl open as the sunlight peeked in properly across the darkness of the stones. But as all men in the room turned to realize who had walked in, only one found intention. After all, it was only the night before the fresh wounds on both their persons were placed there in that very same room.

The Great Hall stood as empty as it was tall save for a small group by the main steps of the Lord’s seat above. The easiest to spot was Aegon, the hair a bold blue as eyes to match looked over with a rough contempt as you begun to walk into the hall, as Aegon himself begun to descend the small set of steps to the same level as yourself.

Whatever quiet words were shared between the men behind him, it seemed the conclusion they came to was to once more let you and Aegon face off with one another. An anger in his eyes towards you matched yours to him.

You had no real weapon on you and from what you could see neither did he, but the sharp flash over both your eyes were cutting enough. Only the echo of footsteps was heard in the hall as you both met in the middle. Floods of fury and fire brewed between you both as there was nothing else in sight but the eyes of a son trying to seek the same control that tore down the family before him.

Breaking the silence first his voice was more quiet then you expected, keeping the echo away and fluttering only enough that you could be heard here and no more then whispers elsewhere. “The Queen in the North graces us with her presence. I am relieved you could take the time out of your busy day to discuss such important matters.”

Your face however, much like Stannis before you, moved none. A cold look shining from your eyes as a stern expression set itself in stone just before a glare. You hardly raised your tone above a slight whisper, dripping in a frustration at his tone. “It is no business of yours what I do with my time, in my home, Targaryean. I do not answer to you.”

“Who do you answer to, the King in the North? Or considering you were the one to attack me last night, perhaps he’s more merely your guard dog.” If he wanted to rile you up, someone should have informed Aegon that the only thing that could truly have you in such dire straits is the memory of a pale blue eyes attached to a slimy voice that coated your skin in more filth then you knew even now how to wash away.

Your eyes drifted across his person with only a barley noticeable narrowed of eyes before meeting his, nodding to his chest plate. “Am I the first to carve a dent into that?”

His jaw twitched in it’s clench, and a condescension rolled from his very aura. “Every great warrior has to start somewhere, doesn’t he?” You could feel the pulsing of the cut along your person he left, as you looked at him, and see once more the rage behind his eyes as he looked to you as nothing more then a monster to abolish from once you came.

“And yet the only ones the Seven Kingdoms ever speak of are your own kin. Strange how only greatness comes from you and none else ever get the chance to prove their worth.” Robb had spent three years winning a war of so many sides falling all onto his shoulders to burden, and he emerged as a great King and yet all any will speak of him is the tragedy stolen from his life. Aegon’s ancestors were all remembered for their victories, and yet your husband lay scattered across the Riverlands and none will remember what led him there in the first place.

Aegon almost smiled though, and you found yourself hating it. Perhaps you were finally understanding Robert so long after his death. “My family is the blood of Old Valyria. We were the great dragonriders who conquered these lands. We are destined for such fates by birthright, by blood-”

“Your dragons destroyed these lands.”

He seethed visibly, and you did in your blood and poured from your eyes that he caught himself. All eyes were on you, but enough feet were apart between that no danger was to intervene from but you felt them all the same and could not quell that feeling rising within your chest. And yet, your voice softened to something that he didn’t expect. Something genuine.

You knew the story too well, and were he true or not to such a claim, it was his family that were the forgotten ones of the rebellion. “I imagine it's difficult for you, being here. Being so close to Kings Landing. It was cruel, and vile what was done to your mother, and your sister too.” It was so well hidden to most not a soul would have caught a waver in his throat. “They didn’t deserve what happened to them, no one does.”

The breathless vitriol was not to blame, and you wouldn’t. “Yet your uncle did nothing to stop it.”

Robert Baratheon wept no tears and sung no songs for Elia Martell and Rhaenys Targaryean. He saw Elia as a dead Dornish woman to be forgotten, and Rhaenys as nothing but the offspring of what so many years alter was his mortal enemy, but you knew when to defend him and when not too. “Tywin Lannister did all that. Aerys Targaryean opened the gates and he sacked the city, his men did that to your family. Robert cared not about their remains but it was not his order to brutalize and dishonour them like animals. I know too well, no one deserves such fate.”

If Aegon saw anything in your eyes, he found no capability to bleed sympathy for it, nor did you expect any too. You wanted it to be not your life as well. “And yet you think my father deserved his. No one cared to provide justice for my mother and sister, but you demean me for wishing to find that very thing for my own father.”

You stared right through him. The question in your mind finally answered. Had Jon Connington ever admitted to Aegon that his father kidnapped Lyanna Stark? Had he admitted he raped her? No. The answer was no. There was not a world you could imagine someone finding a softness over the long deaths of a mother and sister he never knew, but idolized a father who committed such atrocities had he thought they were truth.

“That is what you think? That true justice is redeeming the image of Rhaegar Targaryean to the very people whose lives he ruined beyond repair?” He swallowed again, and you felt something choking your throat as your eyes refused to blink despite the sting. “That includes you, Aegon. He left you in that city too, under the control of a father he knew would not let your mother and you both leave.”

Aegon flushed, something uncomfortable in his own lungs scratching away at his defences. “That boy was not me. That was some tanner’s son from Pisswater Bend whose mother died giving birth. His father sold him to Lord Varys for a jug of ale, and Lord Varys gave that boy to my mother, and took me to safety.”

You didn’t blink, but you did feel for the sorrow to come. “And Rhaegar left you to die in that city with your mother and Rhaenys all the same. Tanner’s son or not, it was you he thought he was abandoning. And that’s the man you wish to be?” He swallowed and a redness almost poked through the colours behind his eyes as something bordering pity and empathy came into you and your voice. “I pray to the old gods and the new that you find it within yourself to become anyone but him. Dragons died for a reason, and it’s better we let it stay that way.”

Walking passed him, you brushed against his shoulder enough the material of your dark cloak ran across the overtly ornate design of his and Aegon didn’t turn to you in the slightest with any other word. You left early to think, and returned with that very thing shoved in your face to overwhelm the rest of it. All you could focus on to stay composed, was to wash off the grime of such a day, and start your work.

Maybe the rest would leave you alone until you wouldn’t break the second you were faced with that same wonder that stunned you the night before. There were no similarities when you looked at Aegon, but you found fear asking you of looking over to double check in case it was too obvious to ignore upon looking his way, but resisted such an urge. Not here, not in front of all these people.

You could feel Jon’s grey eyes following you the entire path as you left the Great Hall.

The path down to the level of the beaches was much faster this way. Many winding stairs were a steep but direct path down to the shores, the black stone leading into the dark rocks surrounding the landscape as only but small caverns and overhangs led to the sand surrounding out to the Narrow Sea.

The climate was much more forgiving as your back current sat against such large rocks that blocked the path and sights around as your hair blew in the winds along with the flowing skirt of your dress as if asking to carry you up and whisk you across the waters to lands unknown. But instead you sat in the quiet as evening sun had begun to set behind you, leaving the skies ahead in a beautiful golden yellow turning almost light shades of a pink.

Were you on the other side of the island, you would have held the object in your hand up to the setting sun, the books you had been scouring through spoke of dragonglass as being able to see the brightness in the sky without pain. Should you look up at it through what Maesters called obsidian. Instead it sat less shining or reflective in the shard twisted and turned in your hands. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you looked over it, trying to find any reason this was the thing which held answers to the realms foreboding danger.

The ones being in your home once more brought to you felt nothing but like burdens at the rate this past day had brought. Fire, death, bloodshed, memories of painful pasts trying to force their way onto those not responsible in the present and an overlooking thought which threatened to consume you should you let it toxify in your mind too much.

You only had a dream. You couldn't rely on that as truth.

It wasn’t until the sounds of footsteps gently approaching hit your ears did you register that you had been cruel. How would it have felt were it you? He had every right to be angry at you for it, but as he chose to settle on the sands with his back against the rock beside you there wasn’t anger which waved off him.

For a moment Jons eyes watched as yours did at the water, but not too long passed between until he gently opened his hand out to it. Silently you gave it to him, only then did the strength to look at him find you. Your eyes following as his brought up up to look closely at and yours continued that path to find his face.

A few smaller scratches sat across his cheek from what you could see at this angle, but all else as you looked at Jon did you find was the same thing you’d always seen looking at him. Nothing hiding inside but the man you love. And you felt more cruel yet a sighing relief at such a fact.

“Theon told me what you had been doing all day.”

You nodded before realizing he wasn’t actually looking to see it. Only leaning a bit closer so that you could feel his arm brush against yours as you spoke quiet by his side. “I have some assembling a number of men now, and come morning they will start on the mine we worked on today. The longer it takes us to start, the longer it takes us to get home.”

Jon ran his thumb over the flat end of the shard, eyes foggy as his voice was rasping at a distance trying to gently murmur your name, but you beat him to it with a heavier heart then you think he suspected. “I’m so sorry.”

Finally his eyes met yours, the grey in them washing over with something confused but also upsetting in a way. “Sorry? What would you have to be sorry for?”

Your own were already with a bit of a red sting, and your cracked throat wavered in speech. “Leaving you like that. After...after the night we had and then you wake up alone and I’m gone all day..it was a horrible thing to do. You would’ve never done it to me, I shouldn’t have done it to you.”

Jon put the shard of Dragonglass down without a second thought, turning to look at you more and it made you feel so much worse at the ease in which the hurt sat in his bright eyes. One of his hands coming up to run along the side of your face until reaching your cheek. “I only want you to tell me what I said or did that you didn’t like next time instead of avoiding me.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as he ran this thumb back and forth over the gentle skin. “Last night, I clearly did something to scare you off. Was I too rough?” He hesitated before swallowing harsh but he looked back into your much more stinging red eyes. “Was it what I said about marrying you?”

You hadn’t realized you were shaking your head until the motion was urgent, hand flying up to grasp at his and finding yourself pushing the fabric between his sleeve and glove to run your own thumb along his pulse. The other turning to face him more as you shifted more onto your calves, “No, it wasn’t you. You didn’t do or say anything wrong..I just..I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you and later I just..”

“Got carried away?”

You nodded, letting go of his wrist as your own dropped into your lap. A shy glint hiding behind your eyes that caught Jons attention much more. The truth was not far off, but there was a medium you needed to pull him too. “I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m so sorry.”

But Jon didn’t need anything else, he didn’t want an argument or a detailed answer or even for you to grovel. Instead choosing to pull you into his side, your head finding a home resting against his shoulder as you were leaned into him completely. One of your arms wrapping around his instead of letting him keep it across your back as the other rested along his forearm. Another quieter whisper from your lips passed the air against the wind and waves. “You were perfect, I’m sorry I made you worry you had done anything wrong. I promise it is the opposite.”

For a good moment it was quiet between the two of you, the world never allowing you such quiet moments together it felt like. Not ones you could enjoy so freely. Never would you have imagined sitting on the shores of Dragonstone with Jon, being free to cuddle into his side with no scare of being caught. It was hard to get used too, being allowed to be seen as his.

Jon was quiet when he finally spoke, “You don’t have too.” Your brows narrowed in question but didn’t move away from him. “Marry me, I mean. I shouldn’t have said it, I’m not trying to pressure you into it or..” His eyes closed for a moment and the weight was felt mutual between both of you. “I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to replace Robb.”

If his voice had rasped out quietly, your own whisper was breathless and somehow even quieter after a good minute passed in the winds. “I don’t love one of you more then the other. Robb will always be part of me, and there wasn’t a second I was with him where what we shared wasn’t pure. He deserved to be loved and I wanted to be that for him. But you deserve to be loved as well.”

Pulling his arm through the gentle hold you had, Jon properly wrapped an arm around you and tugged you right up into his side, your hands drifting across his front. One closer to his waist and the other drifting up and down where you both knew the scars sat. His voice a husk in your ear, “You can keep your name.” A hum left your throat as Jon turned to bury part of his face into your hair like a crutch of muffling support. “You took Robb’s name when you married him. You should keep that. There isn’t much honour in going from a Stark to a Snow.”

This time you pulled from him with something frustrated in your eyes, and a wide insecurity in his that was softer then he had any right being. But as you sat there, your heart begged and pleaded. He did everything for everyone else, and for once you weren’t going to let him deny something that he never thought he’d have. “I became a Stark when I married Robb, but marrying you means I’m marrying you. You’re a Snow, which would make me one. That’s all there is too it-”

He swallowed harshly, a tear in his voice from years of something he tried to bury. “I can’t ask you to do that. Or make you force that onto our children.” Shaking his head slightly, he fought between pulling away from you and burying his face in your neck but chose to stay quite still, looking out to the waving tides rippling gold across the waters. “I used to be so scared of getting you pregnant. Always fighting how much I wanted to know what being with you would be like, and how much I knew any child we accidentally had, would be a Snow. How much everyone would look down on you for it, hate me for ruining your honour. How much everyone would judge whatever son or daughter we had for what I did to you. That’s why I wasn’t ready that day, why I hesitated. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d be ruining my own child’s life just beacuse I wanted to be with his mother.”

That day was still vivid for both. You had found fear that was normal for woman, whatever gentle and innocent touches and pleasure you had explored together were nothing compared to the act itself of sex. You were too scared of it at the time, and you hated the idea of disappointing Jon beacuse of it.

“I had a lot other boys didn’t, but it didn’t change that being a bastard was lonely, and miserable. I thought, that's no life for a child. Would always think that whatever children you had deserved so much more.”

You had never really spoken about it, not so directly, but the panic in your veins of that moment and what you begged of Robb in that anxiety and hurt never left you. It never left you how much your desperation had scared him, and how much you both looked to the other with such love and hope when he assured you.

“Tell me we’ll love him, our son, tell me that we’ll both be here to love him.”

The way Robb pulled you into his arms, resting your face soothingly in his neck as his hand ran gently across your then smooth, healthy stomach with a son named Ned.

“We will love him, together. It’s not just you and me now. It’s us. All three of is, now and always.

Your own voice cracked and it caught Jon’s attention, the sting in his eyes whipping over to yours as you now were the one looking to the sea. “When I finally told Robb I was pregnant-”

“Finally?” You turned to him slightly and he pushed passed the water in your eyes to as, “You said when you finally told him. You kept it a secret?”

Nodding, you wiped at the tears. Fruitlessly knowing more would fall in their place. “We were deep in the Westlands, marching onto Harrenhal, Theon had betrayed us..Catelyn had went behind our backs and released Jaime Lannister,”

You continued on, but that was simply one more tidbit of a story Jon knew not a thing about. A memory that did come to him though, was the only time he’d ever spoken to him. At the time, he thought he was being mocked. Speaking to him like a boy who knew nothing of the world and that he was a fool for taking the black. But he also had mentioned you.

Telling him he hoped Jon had gotten a “Nice, good pretty eyeful of her while you still have the chance. Beyond the reach of the law once you swear your vows, right? Do one last dishonourable thing with such a pretty girl before you never can again.”

Turning to look intently at you, he did briefly feel shame thinking how beautiful you looked with tears running down your cheeks. Letting yourself express your heart so painfully when alone with him in ways you so rarely ever let yourself even feel. “I was so scared he was going to be mad. That I was adding one more thing onto his shoulders but then I told him..and for the first time in a very long time..I finally felt like home. I felt like I found something I truly wanted.”

But he knew, you didn’t just look shocked that day these visions collided at the same instance, you almost looked devastated. “All I could think of was, how much I didn’t want our child to ever grow up the way you were forced to. That no matter where we were or what our lives looked like, I wanted our son to have Robb and I there for him, to know he was always loved no matter what.” You inhaled shakily before finally coming to what was caught in your throat. “You never had to be called a Stark for me to love you, and me being a Snow, our children being a Snow doesn’t change that. We’ll love them together, and that’s what matters. Anyone else has a problem with their name, we could always throw them off the top of the wall.”

Jon actually laughed, a bright charming smile as he laughed deeply. You had been spending too much time with Tormund.

Turning your face by your cheek to look at him, you found one of your hands reaching to run gently along his facial hair at his jaw in return. Running his thumb along your cheek before his voice came out low but full but in a tint of playfulness, “Don’t imagine Stannis and Selyse are going to be very happy having their grandchild be called Snow.”

Leaning so your breathe would dance along his skin as you spoke, you moved the touch on his jaw to run light as a feather across his bottom lip with a breathy laugh. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’ve never done anything that’s made them happy before, no reason to start trying now.”

Jon shook his head, but was the one to pull you into a kiss first anyways. Cupping the back of your head as it almost instantly was more heated then the tears on your cheeks would ask for. Only pulling from your lips long enough to murmur against them with a chuckle, “We are a mess, aren’t we?” You breathily laughed into him back, letting him return right back to kissing you deep enough you had to settle your hands on his shoulders to keep from falling back.

Wrapping an arm around you, Jon beckoned you to stand up with him. Only giving perhaps half a second for you to keep steady on two feet before that arm moved to your hip, and his other hand slid to hold you partially by your jaw and neck as he pushed you into the rocks behind.

Crowding you in an instant his kiss deepened, already leaving you feeling breathless and lightheaded against him. His lips were always so utterly soft and yet they also were so rough with you, leaving a tingling against them as he bit at your bottom lip before kissing you deep once more. Your hands slid up his chest and wrapped gently behind his neck. His tongue gently running across your lips and yet as you went to grant him permission, Jon pulled back enough to bite your lip to pull a gasp.

Only sliding his tongue into your mouth as you did so, the hand on your neck tilting you up to surrender to him. Tongue brushing with yours and hand pulling your hip more as he pressed his hips into you. He swallowed the whine with a growl as you felt him harden beneath the layers. Jon pulled more and more whines into his mouth from you, kissing you rougher and deeper every instance after he would grind his covered cock into you harsher. The hand on your neck moving down, reaching to your other hip and almost shifting you both to be at his mercy.

Slightly now leaning over you against the rocks behind, your hips pressed into the front of his as he pulled back from your lips. Red and swollen as his eyes black scouring the bite marks he left against your own lips. Consuming you with his dark, unmoving eyes as he knew you were growing more wet under the simple layers of your dress. One hand pressed beside your head as he leaned in, his cock twitching against you as he grew harder and harder every rut.

His voice rasped deep and sultry as his eyes looked sharp and narrowed down at you, “Always loose my mind with I’m with you..” Leaning more so his lips brushed against yours but still stared you down, his strength alone enough you couldn’t move away from him if you tried. If the twitch of his cock spoke anything, he enjoyed that you looked almost on the air of intimidated, only able to breathlessly gaze up at him in a needy awe as you burned the more he grinded his hard, covered cock against you. “I get anywhere near you,” The hand on your hip grasped the skirt of your dress as you whimpered at the force and yanked it up almost exposing you entirely were Jon not right against you, “All I can think of is how I shouldn’t have any duties that aren’t burying my cock deep inside you.”

You knew Robb said things like that to be vulgar, to tease how weak it made you. But you shivered at the darkness in Jon’s eyes, and how he almost barely seemed to register he said anything. That all this only spilled out of his mouth not to rile you up, but beacuse it was so deep in his brain that it came out on instinct. It didn’t used to be this intense between you, but all your brain told you to do was submit.

Submit like a good mate and let your White Wolf do whatever he wanted, but there was something else still hiding in your mind. Something that knew he’d never ask for it again. He never asked in the first place, but you desperately wanted to give back. Make Jon feel good beacuse he deserved to.

So your hands at his chest gently pushed him back. Not enough to move him or to even give you much in the way of room. But enough to press a light kiss to his lips and a tender loving one on his neck as you whispered, letting your hands run down his chest. “I want to make you feel good first.”

His face twisted slightly as if not realizing what you meant as he rasped, “You always make me feel good, darling.” But that wasn’t what you meant, and Jon only grasped it as he muttered a very light, almost inaudible, “..fuck..” as you so gently and almost with a pure and innocent softness bright in your eyes, let him keep you pressed tight against the rocks as you dropped to your knees.

Jon swallowed harshly, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up to the sky as if pleading for mercy as you ran your hands so gently along his thighs and hips like a massage. Not moving at all to pull him out until he looked back down at you, that same plead silently asking you to get up for him but you stayed kneeled. “Jon,” His hand ran along the sides of your hair, “Please, will you let me make you feel good? Can I suck your cock?”

Inhaling deeply, Jon’s jaw clenching so tight he ran hand along your hair now cupping the back of your head, he seemed to not risk anything, saying nothing. Only nodding yes, as he raked along your hair as you so carefully moved. Only giving enough room to pull his cock out as it already sat hard, red and leaking cum. Gently, you licked almost like a kitten at the thickness along him, before running your tongue and lips down the length of his cock with as much gentle touch a you did everything else.

Something burned in your chest, desperate to just show him a pleasure he always deserves but so rarely ever let himself have. Slowly letting your tongue brush the length of his cock before licking his tip once more. Eyes sliding shut as you slowly took him into your mouth, a deep grunt trapped in his chest trying not to lose it. Ever so slowly, you let the saliva build up in your mouth as you took him inch by inch, your hands flexing as you held by his hips.

You almost had no choice but to take him deep, so little room was behind you including his hand in your hair. Jon was breathing heavily above you to keep collected and feeling like he wasn’t succeeding. A low hum in your throat vibrated against his cock, something that both overwhelmed your senses letting him slide deep into your mouth but truly didn’t want to stop.

Almost two thirds of the way, you begun to bob your head along him, sucking him as with each slide inside your mouth deep did Jon’s hand on your hair tighten. Not controlling your movements, but almost keeping himself grounded as his muscles tensed.

He was heavy on your tongue, and your jaw already aching from the stretch but you whined at the feeling of him deep enough that it once more tested your inner panic. Taking the rest of his cock until he reached the back of your throat, your nose pressed against the coarse hair around the base of him you slid almost all the way of his length before smoothly gliding back as deep. Each pull back on his cock you sucked him with your own need making your thighs ache to press together.

There was something about being with you that made Jon feel as if you continued to bring things out in him he never knew would rile him up this much. Being outside, one could come across the two of you, and see their fierce and headstrong Queen so willingly down on her knees before the King in the North. Something perverse in Jon almost found the idea of someone catching you two like this appealing. As if it made him feel ever more turned on, as if he dared anyone to catch you both, fighting the fantasy in his veins if someone did see.

You wouldn’t even know if someone was watching, not while you were soaking his cock deep in your warm mouth, and he wondered if you two were caught, would Jon even try and pull you off him?

Or would he let the possessive wolf inside him, force them to watch, knowing that seeing you so eagerly sucking Jon’s thick cock would be the closest any would or could ever get to having you for themselves. Jon knew if he were a worse man, he may have chained and gagged Ramsay and forced him to watch you give everything to Jon that the vile man tried taking violently from you.

Take you apart with every bit of sanity you had left until Jon’s touch was all which would keep you tethered to the earth. And only killing Ramsay once he finished watching Jon take for himself, everything that the man wrongly thought belonged to him.

If it were possible, the image of getting caught as Jon was slid so deep in your mouth, or just as he came heavily down your sweet, sensitive throat, made him almost throb harder.

He still was trying to stay quiet, couldn’t bury his grunts or growls in your kiss and all he could do was try and not to shove your head right back down to take his entire length. Gritting his teeth as his knuckles turned white gripping your hair, he felt himself clawing closer and closer to the end.

You felt his cock throbbing in your mouth, and you only felt both the desperate beg inside to give you a moment to breathe but also finding yourself more eager to help coax him to that end. Wanting him to feel good the way he always insisted doing for you instead.

Murmuring your name, Jon was trying to pull you off his cock and through a rough husking tone he hissed out as your mouth soaked him, “You- gods you really want me like this, you want me to spill down your throat?” Like he couldn’t comprehend why you would actually want to swallow his cum, the thick, warm seed that you had no logical way of explaining in the moment, that you desperately needed.

Only, just as Jon begun to call out your name, he throbbed inside your mouth and looked down at you with a clenched jaw breathing heavily. “You’re too good to me. So fucking good, my beautiful girl..you don’t have to do this..I just..fuck, I only need your cunt..”

But as you took him deeply, you felt him pull your head close to his hips, once again pressed right up against the dark hair around the base of his cock, and this time it was your whimper that did him in. A gentle hold on his hips and a tender moan around him had Jon shake. Spilling deep down your throat with a rasping growl of your name, his hand kept you pressed as deep as he could sink in your mouth but he almost massaged your hair, raking through it more gentle then he had any right being as he fed you all of his thick cock’s seed.

You moaned and the muffled gag of you trying to swallow all of him, feeling almost more worked up at how good it felt and how wet it made you, to feel him spill so deeply down your throat and into your stomach.

But he wasn’t done once he pulled you off, no, this time Jon yanked you up to your feet. Shoving you against the wall as he hovered over you, pulling the skirt of your dress up only enough to grasp hold of the thin fabric covering you from him.

In Jon’s mind he couldn’t hear or see the world around him, only you. And the feeling of your covering soaked did Jon hide his face in your neck. Biting and kissing roughly as he tore the fabric off of you, pressing you into the rocks more when you whined against him.

One hand moved under the flowing fabric to run his cock along your soaking wet entrance while the other cupped your cheek, pulling you into an urgent kiss. Jon sparing not much time before he sunk his cock as deep as he could. Using his hold to shove you more against the rock, keeping one of your legs bent up and wide as he never pulled any more then a few inches out of you.

Your insides twisted like a coiling metal ready to snap as Jon kissed you, your own hands unable to do anything but grasp at his shoulders. All but forcing your lips to part so he could slide his tongue in your mouth, Jon begun to thrust up into you, but this wasn’t the slow start he took his time with.

He kept a hand behind your head keeping you against the mercy of his kiss as the other kept you stretched wide for him as Jon pounded into you. Were the tides and waves not mixing with the covers of wind, someone might have heard the desperate sound of Jon moving to kiss down your neck. Not even with bites, just presses of lips as he felt his heart desperate to just have you close.

Cock pounding into you fast, and somewhat rough especially keeping you on a gasping, pleading edge of his name as the sensitivity of your walls were dragged along once more. Every time his cock was deep you felt no more breathe in your lungs. Hands urgently pulling his hair loose, Jon shifted you up more so you could bury your face between his hair and in his neck and holding onto him tightly with little more then moans.

He asked nothing of you, only holding you there as he fucked into your soaked cunt almost coating his cock even more with your own wetness that were he to have you alone in a room would have been a beautiful soaking sound each time his hips slapped into yours.

It looked like nothing more but a desperate, fast and rough fuck but Jon held you and you held him back burying the other to hide close. Jon holding your head close hiding in your hair as he felt you clench around him and only then did he pull back enough. Making you look at him as you were dangled on his cock asking to let you cum, Jon’s eyes less black and more of a needing grey as he whispered roughly and raspily to you, “It’s alright, darling, you can let go. I want you to cum for me, I promise, please cum for me..I need to feel you, I need you so much..”

Your head only nodded as something close to tears wanted to fall at how raw his voice mixed lust and a gentle need while his cock sped you towards an orgasm and as soon as you gasped, grasping his hair and pleading his name did he find his own end only seconds after your own orgasm snapped bright and flooding passionately within you. Clenching hard around him whimpering his name meekly.

Spilling deeply inside of you as you clenched and soaked his cock, he kept you on him the entire length sunk so deep inside you as he shook against you. Both burying your faces into the others neck and hair until you felt every last bit of his thick, warm cum spill deeply inside.

Breathing heavily against one another, Jon kissed you gently when you whimpered as he pulled out of your cunt. Your skirt dropping back down to cover you while you gently pulled away from him enough to cover him back up properly as well.

Still breathing heavily, your hands fell to his waist as Jon’s ran along your hair before tilting you up for a kiss. Not greedy or pushing, but an intimate kiss that spoke of love you had so long had to pretend never existed. Pulling away to press one against your forehead before resting against yours with his until he knew you were calming back down to earth.

His voice was strained and rough as he spoke quietly through a gentle laugh. “Seven hells..I don’t know what came over me, I'm sorry..” You laughed back more freely, a charming brightness in his eyes as you both laughed against one another much more innocently for the desperate fuck just seconds earlier.

You ran your hand through his hair, looking up to his bright grey eyes. “Why do I suspect you aren’t actually that sorry?”

His grin grew brighter, kissing you once more as he whispered playfully against your lips. “Probably beacuse I’m not.” Leaving another kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead as he tilted you down to leave it there, your hands pressed along his chest before he pulled you into his arms.

If Jon had decided he was sure about one thing, it was what he said after everything was settled the night before. Brewing moontea for you as he had you lay under the sheets to relax, knowing no matter what you claimed of feeling fine, he had gone more rough then he intended. Telling you almost casually, that he wasn’t getting you pregnant for the first time anywhere but his own bed in Winterfell.

He was however, as the two of you made your way back up to the castle, considering to what degree of uncomfortable a conversation would it be to go back to Maester Pylos so soon. There was no getting around that he was going to know that perhaps Jon had an appetite for you a bit more high and demanding then what the man was expecting on the first request for it.

Jon knew he felt eyes, but had no idea that there had been more then one pair, watching the entire time you had been passionately wrapped up in each other along the isolated shores of Dragonstone.

One pair of eyes that almost crawled like a spider, but the other was one that none could guess.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

73 notes · View notes