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#Helena Targaryen x you
starogeorgina · 5 months
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬
Warning: Swearing
Pairing: Helena Targaryen × OC
1.04
To celebrate the betrothal between yourself and Cregan Stark, your older cousin Gerold Royce threw one of the finest feats Runestone had seen in years. The halls were vibrating with an electrical charge while fine wine and various delicious-smelling foods were brought out, but your favorite part of the night was reuniting with your former lady in waiting, who was due to give birth within the next moon. As she tells you about her experiences of pregnancy, your mind continues to go back to Helaena, and you wonder if she has anyone to share these moments with within the Red Keep.
As the hours turn late, most of the lords and ladies retreat for the night. You are sitting with a handful of knights who are off for the night when you notice the perplexed look on Jacaerys face while he speaks with Lady Waynwood, an older lady of the court who was known for her sharp words. Concerned, you excuse yourself and go over to him. Linking your arm with his, you ask, “Can you walk me back to my chambers? It’s getting late, and we need to get up early tomorrow.”
Jace raises his brow, surprised but nodding. You say goodnight to the few drunken fools that remain in the hall before you begin to walk back. One of your protectors lingers far enough back so he’s not intrusive in your conversation.
“Did Lady Waynwood say something ill-mannered?”
“No, uh, she says she knew Queen Aemma well. Lady Wayneood said I remind her of my grandmother, that I have a similar softness to what she did.”
“Princess Daella and Queen Aemma are remembered fondly in the Vale, and I’ve heard many times how both mother and daughter were extremely kindhearted. I vaguely recall my own grandmother saying how all the ladies at court would dote on the then princess Aemma; everyone loved her,” you say, offering him a sympathetic smile. You wondered how many times in Jacaerys life he’s been told he looks like someone from his Targayren bloodline. “After Queen Aemma gave birth to Princess Rhaenyra, everyone in the Vale gathered for one of the largest feats that has ever taken place in Runestone, before many of the lords and ladies traveled to King's Landing to join in on the formal celebrations.”
“That I could imagine,” he says. “Although I’m surprised to hear you say it so casually.”
“How so?”
“You don’t like my mother.”
Hearing those words come from Jace’s mouth makes your stomach drop. “That’s not true... I just dislike being around anyone who loves my father so much.”
You value your friendship with Jacaerys far too much to risk losing it by telling him the real reasons you couldn’t take Rhaenyra. It was no secret in the Vale that your father would go to King's Landing to give gifts to the realm's delight and would read her poetry, and they would sneak off during the hour of the owl to brothels together, all while your mother was still alive. Your father would laugh and call her a bronze bitch and say fucking sheep would be a better option than her. They had no respect for anyone in house Royce, but you would never tell Jace that.
Before you even step foot on the sandy beaches of Dragonstone, you feel immediately homesick, as a sense of regret lingers inside you. In Runestone, you had friends; you had kin from your mother's side who adored you. You were respected and made to feel wanted and loved. And yet, you found yourself back on the island, trying to fill the void of emptiness of not having a parent. Despite all the horrid rumors of your father cheating on your mother, you still wanted him to care for you.
Jacaerys notices your mood dropping and slows his pace, so he’s walking beside you as you make your way along the beach to meet the knights who are waiting to escort you back into the castle walls.
“They adore you, you know?” Jace says. “You’ve never mentioned how they call you the dragon of the Vale before... I wonder if the Starks will call you the dragon of the north once you’re married.”
Forcing a smile, you nod, “Perhaps they will... When I’m married to Lord Stark, can you watch over Runestone for me? I don’t want to leave my people defenseless, as nothing keeps those who would cause them harm at bay quite like a dragon.”
Jace links his arm with yours, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. “You maintain that you care about nothing, but I see right through it. And I know you care about your family on Dragonstone, even if you don’t like us much.”
“Whatever you say, my prince.”
As Jacaerys fills his mother in on his experience in Runestone and how highly the people spoke of the late Queen Aemma, you notice Lucerys eyes keep flickering between the plate of food in front of him and yourself.
Eventually, in a quiet voice, Lucerys asks. “What’s it like to ride a wild dragon?”
“Very painful since he’s not saddled,” you say jokingly, but feel bad when Luke looks disappointed by your answer. The younger boy usually seems scared of you, so it was something that he made the effort to speak with you first. “The only dragon I've only ever ridden on is the cannibal, so I don’t know any different.”
“Lies.”
Hearing your father’s voice, you roll your eyes and pretend you didn’t hear him. “I don’t really remember a time when I wasn’t bonded with my dragon; I first saw him when he flew to Runestone to feed on sheep.”
Luke’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Weren’t you terrified?”
“Not that I can remember,” you smile, remembering the memory fondly. “My cousin Gerold's lady wife had joined him on a hunting party, so I could go as well. I was being taught how to shoot an arrow when the cannibal swooped down and began picking sheep from a nearby farm with his claws and tossing them into the air to burn.”
“I took you flying on Caraxes when you were a baby, just as I did Baela and Rhaena,” your father scoffs.
“How touching.” Since this was the first time he had mentioned that he took you flying on his own dragon, you doubted it ever happened.
You try to continue telling Luke how you claimed your dragon, but your father cuts in again, “Rhea put a stop to it.”
“Don’t mention my mother!”
“I think it’s time for everyone to retreat for the evening,” Rhaenyra says sternly. Even she seems surprised by your father's urge to provoke you.
Luke holds his hand out for Joffrey to take, “Come on, Joffrey. Time for bed.”
You smile sadly at the young boys; a perfectly fine evening and meal were ruined. When you stand to leave, Rhaenyra stands up as well; she twists the ring on her finger. “Vissera, I’m going to have dresses fitted tomorrow; maybe you’d like to join me. We can sample different fabrics for your engagement and wedding dresses.”
The princess's offer was a kind one, but a knot twists in your stomach, and you're not sure why. Perhaps it was because you felt disingenuous about befriending her. “Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you for the offer.”
“I’ve never seen you in a dress before. I bet you’ll look beautiful,” Helaena muses, then abruptly sits up right. “Not that you don’t usually.”
A small smile pulls on your lips. “Thank you, princess.”
Comfortable moments of silence pass with nothing but the sounds of dragons squealing in the distance and the sound of waves crashing nearby as you and Helaena embrace each other in the small cave, sitting in front of a small fire.
Helaena’s lips meet the side of your neck before she lets out a soft sigh, “The sun is starting to rise. I’ll need to return soon to wake my children and then join my mother in breaking fast.”
“Is the queen excited to have another grandchild?” You ask, using Alicent’s official title so as not to offend Helaena.
“She’s happy I’m performing my duty and giving Aegon another heir.” She stares into the flames of the now-dead fire for a few moments before speaking again. “I hope it’s another boy, so that I don’t need to lay with him again for some time.”
Not knowing what to say, you kiss your silver-haired princess on the forehead. It was easy for you to forget how much Helaena has been through by being pressured into having a baby so young because she hardly ever speaks about how much it affects her. Your heart bleeds for her. Helaena was far too kind and innocent; you’d do anything to take her pain away.
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Helena: Why is Aegon screaming in his chambers like a madman?
Y/N: He asked if I wanted to cuddle, and I said, ‘No, it's the middle of the day’…
Helena: …oh.
*Aegon screaming louder*
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shuichiakainx · 3 months
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Dry-humping with Helaena?
Golden Chains (Helaena Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: Helaena isn't yours, but you are always hers.
Warnings: Angst. Implied sex between Helaena and Aegon, Implied SA? To be safe, smut.
A/N: I love Helaena so much, but this was a hard prompt to write. I hope I did it justice.
Helaena sends for you, unexpectedly. The Princess, your Princess, awaits you in her rooms. It’s late. The Red Keep’s halls are empty, except for the guards who give you cheerful waves.
You like it here. It’s a good job. No one bothers you, and not only do you have food and boarding, but also a small stipend. Your Princess, as kind as she is, sometimes slips you little trinkets. A slice of cake here, an embroidery handkerchief there.
In normal circumstances, you would be elated to see that she is calling you. But this late? It can only mean one thing.
As you open the doors to her bedchambers, you try to remain unmoved. After all, the Prince is still there. He always looks a bit sick when he does. Perhaps it’s regret, or perhaps it’s the fact there is a witness there to see exactly what they have done.
It’s a testament of Aegon’s sadness that he doesn’t even give you a lustful glance. Other times, when you pass him in the corridors, he smirks and makes crude remarks. He knows exactly what goes on between you and his sister wife, and he never fails to ask you to join him in bed, too.
He tries to do right by her, in a twisted way. Despite having plenty of evidence to get you fired and probably executed, Aegon never makes a move to separate you from Helaena. You wonder if he hurts as much as she does. Likely. Knowing Aegon, he is only getting started for the night. His next stop will be the Street of Silk, where he will try to get rid of the memory of his wife at any cost.
You shake your head, trying to vanish those thoughts. Aegon is not your concern. He has the other Prince, and numerous guards for that. Helaena has no one but you. Not even her mother could come and face her, in nights like these.
Why would she, out of all people, force her into this marriage? You doubted Queen Alicent’s marriage was more pleasant. Yet instead of marrying Helaena to someone else, she had tied together two of her children, who were clearly unhappy.
Duty. The death of all love, it seemed. Even the maternal kind.
Helaena looks small, huddled among the bed covers. Her eyes are vacantly staring at the ceiling, arms limp and outstretched at her sides. If it were not for the rapid movement her chest makes as she inhales and exhales, you would think she is a statue.
“Princess, what do you need? Shall I run you a bath?” You keep your voice soft and unhurried, as not to startle her. You do not approach her further.
Helaena lifts her head from the pillow. Her expression is cold. “’Tis the burden of every noblewoman” She had said to you once, as you poured water down her back. “Nothing to be done about it.”
It broke your heart then. It breaks your heart now, that you cannot help her. Baths are a poor consolation for what she has to endure.
You don’t move. Helaena stares.
“Will you come here?” Helaena finally asks, throwing her covers down. She is dressed as always, in a thin sleeping shift, without lace or any of the frills usually added to entice reluctant husbands. You know she has issues with the textures, sometimes. That what to you is a normal touch, to her feels wrong.
You approach her as soon as she bids you. She doesn’t like to wait. Without needing to be told to, you sit on the edge of the bed.
“I need…” The Princess blushes, all sweet. You feel the urge to smile. Even if suffering, she is never less than polite. “Could you? Um. I… I feel… My husband has left me… Unsatisfied again. I need… I’m burning up.”
“Would a cold bath suffice, or do you wish for me to…?” You don’t dare finish the sentence, just as she doesn’t dare fully ask for what she needs. Perhaps, if not spoken aloud, you can pretend the circumstances are different.
“Please?” The Princess asks, looking tearful. You nod, kneeling on the bed.
“Do you want my…"
“Your thigh.”
The unexpected. At last. You pop one of your hips slightly forward, so your knee juts out just so. Helaena smiles between the tears and pulls you into a kiss.
Against her mouth, you breathe heavily. You do not touch her. Not from fear, no. Because on nights like these, she can’t stand anybody’s touch. And you do not mind it.
This arrangement between the two of you had started when you started serving the Targaryens. Young, and of a similar age to Princess Helaena, you had been designated as her maid after the old one got fired. It meant many things, in practice. You had to supervise her children, the sweet young twins. Manage her daily schedule. Make sure her rooms are kept tidy and neat, help her dress. If Princesses were allowed to have a Hand, that would be what you were to Helaena.
At the same time, you knew you were more. You doubted the Lord Hand cared for King Viserys as you did for your Princess. Spending so much time with someone forced you to have opinions on them, and while you knew little of servitude, with the Red Keep being your first job, you knew she was a good mistress.
Helaena was odd. Peculiar. Most maids couldn’t stand her, Queen Alicent had explained, as she gave you the breakdown of your daily duties. Loud noises upset her, the same with certain textures and some foods. Helaena is very picky about what to eat, and she wants everything done in the exact fashion every day. You had thought at first Helaena was a terror, but soon came to realize it was not on a whim. She needed her routines.
That was why visits from her husband were so disruptive and upsetting. Prince Aegon was unpredictable, as many drunks were. Some nights, he would come to her chambers nearly unconscious. Other nights, he would be in a boisterous good mood. Angry, some days. And he took all of those on her.
He was not a good lover, you had heard. Another maid, one in charge of the children, had told you her predecessor had left because the Prince had made advances towards her. Advances so bad, she had to drink moon tea after, supplied by the very hand of the Queen. Aegon was prone to taking women by force, it seemed, because each time he visited Helaena, she crumbled like a house of cards.
You wondered what that must be like. You were uncertain if she felt like she was doing her duty to the realm, or disgusted by the fact that it was her sibling. Her body seemed to respond well to him, so you guessed he had some care for his Lady Wife he didn’t display towards others. Not enough, in your opinion. Because Helaena always felt unsatisfied after.
And as her Hand, it was you who had to fix it. It had started one night, as she had begged you for a cold bath to cool her blood. Despite the strange request, you had obeyed. And as your Princess sat down, shivering and sniffling for the cold water you poured down her back, she had leaned in and kissed you.
One look at those big, pleading blue eyes, and you were a goner. The Faith of the Seven said it was a sin to lay with another woman. Yet, you didn’t agree. You were not a woman of letters, to be able to read the Seven Pointed Star, but how could something that felt so good be a sin? To you, it was another way of serving your lady. And you had heard at the Sept, once, that a servant must love her Queen. What was the harm in loving Helaena a little earlier?
Some nights, Helaena wanted to please you, too. She brought you joy so great it made you scream and cry. What could be closer to the Seven Heavens than this? Your body tensing like the string of a bow under her skillful hands, so used to embroidering and painting. Her hands, her hands, how you loved them. For what they did to you, for what they taught you to do to her. Guiding yours towards her center, as you worshiped the curve of her hips, her breasts, you felt you were kissing the statue of the Mother herself.
But other nights, like these, she couldn’t stand the touch of your hands. It was too much for her and not enough, and she was burning up, mouth parting in the sweetest of ecstasies. Ready for the taking of a man who didn’t care to bring her joy. And hurting. Hurting so much, she had no option but to lick her wounds. She was too proud to do so in front of a servant, a Targaryen despite her sweetness. So she took selfishly from your body, again and again.
Not pleasure. No. It was a cruel, cruel game. She left you all hot and bothered, chasing her joy. Despite it, you loved her like this, too. Taking what she deserved, as the kindest, sweetest Princess of the realm. It made you proud. Here was something Prince Aegon, despite his blood and titles, couldn't give her. You could. You could because your love was not selfish. If she asked, you would break time and time again under her. You would withstand the harshest punishments, if you got her to yourself once more. If it meant not sharing her.
Helaena shifted on the bed, to straddle your thigh. Her nightgown remained in place, as did your dress and apron. Her hands shyly wrapped around your shoulders, eyes fixated on somewhere far away. Never yours.
Her hips rolled against your leg.
“Like this. Oh… Just like this.” In the sweetest, sweetest whisper. You placed a hesitant hand on her waist. Trying to help her hips find a rhythm, but she bated it away, pouting.
Cheeks flushed. A deliciously dark expression. Sinful. So it was that kind of night. She only wanted to take, take, take. Not be given.
Your leg started to cramp. You didn’t dare move. Not when it would mean losing this. The view of your Princess using you as she would any other tool. Taking her pleasure of your body, as her husband had done from hers.
Did it help? You wanted to ask, after these nights. But you never did. Helaena didn’t like talking. She was reserved. Tuned inwards instead of outwards, as your mother used to say. Feelings were a complex topic to her, but again, to whom weren’t?
Other maids said she was weird. Fey when she spoke, unable to look them in the eyes. You guessed they never saw her like this. Glorious. Sweet. The sweetest. There was a reason the realm loved this Princess of yours.
Other nights, when you two were together without Aegon’s shadows, you allowed yourself to dream. Of asking her to run away with you, of being able to call her fully yours. You never asked. You knew her too well. Helaena was a faithful mother and wife, and much too kind. It would destroy her family.
Sometimes, you thought that was not the real reason. You never asked her because you were afraid she wouldn’t understand. You heard once that when birds were raised in cages, and they escaped, they never survived more than a few days. They weren’t used to freedom and once granted, they didn’t know what to do with it. So they withered away.
Her hips stuttered, little punched out sobs becoming harder to contain. You tensed the muscles of your leg, hoping to aid her along. Helaena rutted against you, harder, faster. Mouth sweetly searching yours, kissing your cheek each time she missed. Your hands didn’t move.
Perhaps, in another world, you two could have been together. A world where your love was not forbidden, a world when everyone could love who they pleased. Where you could scream all your joy when Helaena touched you. But as she tensed against you, mouth parting to scream, you had to kiss her to muffle it. This was not that world. It would never be.
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bobfloydsbabe · 3 months
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Strongly considering posting a sneak peek of my House of the Dragon fic 👀
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heirofdragons · 2 years
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I am forever grateful for helaemond crumbs
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(when I read fire and blood back in 2018 I did not consider the possibility of an adaptation of said book turning me into my 15 years old self, squealing and kicking my legs if two characters as much as breathed in eachothers direction, but here we are)
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thegreengnome · 1 year
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Requests
Send in requests for one shots! I'm thinking category is ‘Targaryen Realness’! 
I will write for 
Daemon
Alicent
Aemond
Rhaenyra
Aegon
Helena 
I will write Angst, and fluff
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muntitled · 5 months
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𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥
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Aegon Targaryen x Fem!reader
Summary: You were the only one who truly saw the tortured king. Not his mother, not his brother, and certainly not his wife.
Warning: Language, Infidelity, Humiliation, Toxicity, King Complex, Slight Angst, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, Canon typical Incest, Grinding, Forced orgasm, King Kink?, Dom/Sub Themes, Controlled Orgasm, Ownership Kink, Dub/Con, Groping, Humping, Pussy rubbing, Exhibition Kink
This isn't very good, I admit. I just needed to get it out of my head.
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Despite your eye following the pathway of High Valyrian ink splashed on the weathered pages of your book, your brain takes forever to process the words.. It is a story you had enjoyed since the days of your wetnurse but now you are focused on the utter injustices occurring by the dinner table before you. You always found your nose nestled in a book throughout dinner, all save for this one.
The Queen mother is bent over her plate, forgetting her table manners in the vehemence of her passions, while Aemond assumes a hostile glare from his perch at the head of the table. Aegon sits slumped in between you and Helena, with his half lidded eyes so painfully tedious as he prods at his food, while these fake gods scold him from above.
"And to make matters impossibly worse, you failed to display even a shred of sympathy towards his condition-" Despite the nature of his mother's tone, it does not stop Aegon from rebutting where necessary, with a quick, sharpness on his tongue.
"This 'condition' you speak of, being the imprisonment of a wealthy merchant's stupid son." Aegon releases a short, winded chuckle, one that you share behind the concealment of your book. "Perhaps he shouldn't have gotten himself captured."
"He is apart of your battalion, Aegon- fighting your war-"
"I am not at war. As I sit here, I am not harbouring any ill feelings towards any party-"
Aemond interrupts, "All you think about is fucking and drinking-"
"Precisely brother!" Aegon proceeds to turn to his mother, with his hands splayed outwards he reiterates, "All I think about is fucking and drinking,"
A loud, unladylike snort escapes the confines of your throat which you attempt to sheath with a cough as you study the words in your book. Aemond rolls his eyes while Aegon throws a blatant smirk beside you- "See Mother! Now our dear cousin has fallen ill as a result of the animosity stirred by your incessant scolding!” Aegon’s voice is doused in sarcasm as he rubs his hand into your shoulder, “All because of your nagging, mother," Alicent’s eyes darken as her voice descends into caution "Aegon. Tomorrow you are to formally apologise to that Knight. He is a seasoned member of your Kingsguard-" The politics was becoming far too much on him. His grip has yet to leave your shoulder.
"Why the complete and utter fuck should I be pandering to my subjects?"
Aemond is the first to inject "Have you not a shred of Diplomacy, you fucking imbecile?" You eye Aemond from above your book, and you cannot begin to imagine the younger brother would ever inject himself into Aegon's business, no reason except perhaps, jealousy?
Aegon promptly ignores Aegon, and, with his eyes on Alicent, he leans over the table and whispers:
"If Rhaenyra wishes to have the crown, she may gladly take it-"
"AEGON!" The queen's thunderous voice settles over the table like a tempest, injecting all those present with a sharp, instinctive flinch, all except Aegon, who remains lax and unaffected by her outburst, only fueling the Queen's anger to first born tenfold.
"I cannot rely on you for anything, Aegon, NOTHING! For a mother to be so utterly embarrassed by her son- her eldest son," there is venom in her incredulity, one that has your brows curving as you send a sympathetic gaze at the Usurper. You lower your novel and lean slightly closer to the battlefield that has befallen the dinner table. Aegon’s hand drops from your shoulder, landing in your lap. You clasp his trembling hand in both of yours.
How a simple visit to see your cousins in King's Landing had turned into a public execution of Aegon's dignity, is utterly beyond you. You decide that you simply will not allow it, you cannot allow it, and solidarity is all you hope Aegon feels radiating from your clasped hands under the table.. You look up at him, thinking you might look up to find anguish in Aegon's eyes, but all you find there is a sly, almost secretive smirk dancing along his visage.
"You govern this country like a child-" Aemond begins but you're quick to snip back,
"Perhaps we should be mindful, cousin of the fact that Aegon still is a child. He is but 20 years in age!" You exclaim, with your own incredulity coating your laughter, "Aegon's destiny was pre-written when you were barely able to wipe your own shit, Cousin." Aegon fails to conceal his crass bought of laughter.
"I've no time for this," Alicent says, pushing herself out of her chair before rising in silent anger, "Helena, come," she commands before leading a slightly aloof Helena out the dining hall without another word. Helena mumbles something about broken unions in iron castings before disappearing.
The silence is deafening as Aemond's one eye studies the two of you - he is not able to see your hand underneath the table, you don’t think…
"Before you think about fucking our cousin, at least think about fucking your wife." Aemond announces, to an amused Aegon who keeps his amused gaze lowered to the table. It is then that Aegon squeezes your hand, still seated on your lap. His fingers encircle yours in what you initially deduce is acknowledgement of your solidarity, but what you quickly realise is something much more sinister.
"I cannot say I will heed your counsel, brother," It is then that Aegon grabs ahold of your hand, guiding you until your palm is cupping his hardened cock. "But you can trust that your council is solemnly heard."
Aemond watches you from above the rim of his chalice as he empties the final traces of his wine before placing his chalice back on the table. His exit is a slow one, one that has your anticipation expanding and Aegon's patience waning. In all honesty, hearing your valiant defence to preserve his dignity raised an intense feeling of desire in Aegon. Even though Aegon's only feeling ever, always seemed to be desire.
"Come here," He says once Aemond footsteps have echoed away, "I need your mouth," Despite his command, Aegon is already leaning in with his hand cupping the back of your skull. Soon, all you can smell is him. All you can feel is him. All you can taste is the drunken and sunken taste of him.
His tongue forces its way into your mouth, ripping a fresh groan from inside you as he twirls you into his lap. He has you arrested on him, his front to your back, with your arse pressed on his crotch. His hand on your face cranes your neck backwards and forces his mouth on yours, promising that even if you wanted to free yourself, you may never be able to.
"I love how you see me," He whispers, never breaking away too far, in fear of you disappearing, "How utterly pleased I am with the version of myself I see living in your eyes," His words spill out of him and slip inside your mouth bridged by your shared saliva.
"He is not useless. He is not pitiful," Aegon breaks away from the kiss, to lay a palm on your cheek.
As one hand lovingly strokes the side of your face, Aegon’s other hand is ravenous, as it palms your sensitive breasts through the bodice of your dress.
"Thank you for not judging me," He all but whimpers as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in until his hips attempt to grind into you like a touch starved adolescent boy, while he ventures under your soft skirts.
"You don't have to thank me, Aegon." Your hands reach backwards to cradle his head into the crook of neck just as Aegon's fingers reach around to hook into the seat of your underwear. You aren't nearly as aroused as him, but somehow that fact has Aegon spiralling even further into arousal. His eyes are squeezed shut as he leans into you, smelling you, while his fingers drift over your pussy, searching desperately for a reaction.
"It is very rare that I find myself wanting to give any woman pleasure," Aegon's admits, with a low, dense drawl. His actions steal the breath from your very lungs as you feel the first sign of wetness begin to coat your underwear. He is in utter awe when he feels it. Quickly descending into a level of pleasure that he was not even sure existed, "I fucking love your cunt," He murmurs in his desperate drunken haze, "I wish to play with it and taste it and fuck it until you’re barely able to speak-"
"God's, Aegon!" Your voice is hoarse and your cries reach the highest rafter of the dining hall. Despite your degenerate wails, Aegon does little to stop them, in fact he encourages them, as his fingers push your underwear aside.
"When did you get so fucking wet?" The warmth of his breath fans against your cheeks, as he presses his front against your behind, "Did I get you this wet?" He asks, before getting the strongest surge of arousal as he whispers, "Did your King get you this wet?"
All you are able to accomplish is a nod as your mind explodes with vibrant visions of your near release. Soon, you're moving your hips in tandem with Aegon's fingers squeezing sloppily at your clit before rubbing with vicious surety.
"Please-"
"Call me by my title," He whispers, completely stripped from his sensibilities. "Tell your King to make you come," Aegon's brain is filled with what he suspects is determination. He is determined to see the most lecherous parts of you crack, and have it done by his design. He rubs your cunt with furious passion while he pushes up from underneath you, utterly destroyed by the idea of having a monopolised control over the workings of your body.
"Fuck- please my King!" The ache between your legs is as warm and erratic as Aegon's hands. "Please let me cum-"
"Tis only I, who can get My Lady this wet and needy," He murmurs, quite literally to himself, as he pushes his hips against your arse.
"Only you, My King." You decide to humour him, seeking the quickest way to your release, "Only you can make me cum," Throughout his tirade, Aegon's other, unoccupied hand has reached around and clasped itself against your throat. He is violent in his actions, squeezing deliriously until your throat is vacuumed of all its air. It's an utterly depraved situation you have both found yourselves in.
Anyone could decide to walk in at any moment and Aegon affirms as much. "You're such a pretty little whore, making a mess on my fingers like this. Fuck, The servants could decide to walk through at any moment," His grip on your throat relaxes, allowing you gasp hungrily for air while the first spots of your organs threaten to surge through you.
"P-Please, My King-"
"What would they think if they find you humping my hand like such a needy, little whore?" He is rubbing rough circles against your cunt until finally, you're unable to resist teetering on the edge much longer. As your orgasm washes over you, and your body shudders above him, Aegon's own orgasm is triggered as he forces your hips further onto the seat of his pants.
"My Lord," your voice is shallow but a restless tremor settles on your limbs, "Have you no shame," you're partially jesting, as you try to come back from your previous delirium.
"I've already been branded a devil," He says, "There is no Grace left to fall from."
<3
© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost
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novaursa · 25 days
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hello luv
what about aegon x twin sister
they were always very very closed, like you can always see them together, but she had a very strong character and she let no one decide for her.
And because of that Otto is afraid to married her to aegon so he choose Helena to married him. But Aegon still had an affair with her, he can stop thinking about her.
And when he became king he decided to take her as his second wife, they have a child together and he was with the twins during the night of the attack and aegon is really scared for him (he loved more their child coz he was made with love)
The Fires We Make
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- Summary: When they decreed to marry Aegon to Helaena, he decided to do what his namesake had done. Aegon takes you as his second wife.
- Paring: twin!reader/Aegon II Targaryen
- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. Requests are now closed!
- Rating: Explicit 18+
- Word count: 3 400+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff
- A/N: I had to bend your plot in the end a little, to make Aegon's reaction more believable.
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You sit beside your brother Aegon, your twin, your other half. The bond you share is a rare and precious thing, a connection forged in the cradle, strengthened over the years by whispers in the dark, stolen moments, and a fierce loyalty that burns brighter than any dragon's flame. It’s a bond that only the two of you truly understand, one that could lead to either great strength or devastating ruin. You’ve always known that, and so has Aegon.
But now, that bond is threatened.
The candlelight flickers across the faces of your mother, Queen Alicent, and your grandsire, Otto Hightower, their expressions shadowed and grim. The air in the room is thick with dread, almost visible force that presses against your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You can feel Aegon’s anger radiating beside you, a barely contained storm.
“Aegon,” Otto begins, his voice calm and measured, the tone of a man who is used to being obeyed. “You must understand that our family’s future is at stake. The stability of the realm depends on it.”
Aegon’s jaw tightens, his hands clenching into fists on the arms of his chair. He doesn’t respond immediately, and when he does, his voice is low, dangerous. “What I understand, Grandsire, is that you think I should be controlled. You think we should be controlled.”
Otto’s gaze is steely, unyielding. “You are the future King, Aegon. Your duty is to the realm, not to your… whims.”
“Whims?” Aegon spits the word out like it’s poison. “Is that what you call it? Whims? You’re speaking about her, about my sister—your granddaughter.”
Alicent shifts in her seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She looks at Aegon with a mixture of sorrow and concern, her voice soft but firm when she finally speaks. “Aegon, this is not just about what you want. It’s about what’s best for the realm. Your match with your sister—” she hesitates, glancing at Otto, then continues, “it could be… dangerous. You both have strong wills, too strong perhaps. It could lead to conflict, to instability.”
You feel a flare of anger at her words, but you remain silent, watching as Aegon struggles to keep his emotions in check. He’s always been quick to anger, but this is different. This is deeper, more personal. You can see it in his eyes, in the way his body tenses as if ready to spring into action, to defend you, to defend both of you against this assault on your bond.
“And what do you propose instead?” Aegon’s voice is cold now, icy. “That I marry Helaena? Is that it?”
Otto nods, as if this is the most reasonable suggestion in the world. “Helaena is gentle, pliable. She will be a good queen, one who will support you, not challenge you. The realm needs a steady hand, not… not the fire that the two of you could unleash.”
Aegon laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Steady? You mean obedient, don’t you, Grandsire? You want someone who will nod and smile and do as they’re told. Someone who won’t question you.”
“Aegon—” Alicent starts, but Aegon cuts her off.
“No, Mother, don’t. You know as well as I do that this isn’t about what’s best for the realm. It’s about control. He’s afraid of us, of what we could be together.” He turns to Otto, his eyes blazing. “You’re afraid that we’ll be too strong, that we’ll burn too brightly for you to handle. But you should remember, Grandsire, that dragons are not meant to be tamed.”
Otto’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “This is not a matter of fear, Aegon. It’s a matter of duty. You have a responsibility to the realm, to the Targaryen line. Your sister—” his gaze flicks to you, and you feel the weight of it, the judgment, “—is too much like you. The two of you together could bring about more chaos than order. You must think beyond yourself, beyond your desires.”
Aegon stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. His fists are trembling, his entire body vibrating with barely suppressed rage. “My desires? My desires have always been for the good of our House, of our family. And she—” he points to you, his voice shaking with emotion, “—she is my family. My twin. My other half. I will not abandon her for some twisted idea of duty.”
Alicent rises, reaching out to him, but he steps back, shaking his head. “Aegon, please, listen to reason.”
“Reason?” he scoffs. “Reason has nothing to do with this. This is about power. You want me to be a puppet, to marry Helaena and play the part of the obedient son. But I am not a puppet, and I will not be controlled.”
For a moment, the room is silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of your brother as he struggles to regain control of his emotions. You know him well enough to see the storm within him, the fierce protectiveness, the rage at being cornered.
Finally, Otto speaks, his voice cold and authoritative. “You are the heir to the Iron Throne, Aegon. You will do what is necessary for the good of the realm. You will marry Helaena.”
Aegon looks at him, and for a moment, you think he might lash out, might do something reckless. But instead, he turns to you, his eyes softening, filled with a deep, unspoken promise. “This isn’t over,” he says quietly, and you know he means it. Whatever comes next, he will not let you be cast aside so easily.
Without another word, Aegon strides out of the room, leaving you alone with the weight of what has just transpired. Otto and Alicent exchange a glance, and you can see the concern in your mother’s eyes, the worry for what this decision will mean for her son, for you, for the future of the realm.
But in your heart, you know that this is only the beginning. The bond you share with Aegon is not something that can be easily broken, not by Otto’s machinations or anyone else’s. It is a bond forged in fire, and if there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that fire cannot be so easily extinguished.
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The heavy curtains are drawn tightly around the grand bed, casting the room in a shadowed twilight, the only light a flickering candle that dances with the whispers of a secret not meant for the world beyond these walls. The bedchamber is filled with the scent of smoldering incense and the unmistakable, intoxicating warmth of shared passion. Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, mingling with the ragged exhalations of the man above you, his silver hair brushing against your face as he moves, each movement a promise, a vow sealed with a thousand unspoken words.
Aegon’s hands are on your hips, strong and possessive, as though he’s terrified you might slip away from him if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough. His touch burns with a desperate need, a fire that refuses to be extinguished, no matter how many years or how many vows have tried to snuff it out. His eyes, fierce and wild, bore into yours, and in them, you see the same desire, the same hunger that has haunted both of you since childhood.
“Aegon,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your shared history, with the love and pain and longing that have only grown stronger with time.
He leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “You are mine,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “You’ve always been mine. And I swear by the gods, by the dragons, by our blood, that I will make you my wife as is my right, as Aegon the Conqueror did before me.”
The intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. He is not making an idle promise, nor is he indulging in a lover’s fantasy. This is Aegon’s truth, the truth of a man who has been denied the one thing he’s always desired above all else. His marriage to Helaena, while dutiful and necessary, has never filled the void that you alone could fill. You are his other half, his twin flame, the only one who truly understands the depths of his soul.
But the world outside this room is not so easily swayed by passion or promises made in the dark. You know this, and so does he. The weight of your shared secret presses down on you, even in this moment of intimacy, but you cannot deny the longing in your heart, the yearning for a life where you can stand by his side, not as a hidden lover, but as his equal, his queen.
“Aegon,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to caress his face, your fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the softness of his lips. “What you’re speaking of… it could bring the realm to its knees.”
He closes his eyes briefly, as if pained by your words, but when he opens them again, they are filled with a fierce determination. “The realm has always been at war with itself, with its rulers, with its desires. We were born to the blood of the dragon, to forge our own path, to take what is ours. You are mine, and I will not let anyone take you from me, not Grandsire, not Mother, not even the gods.”
His words, spoken with such conviction, send a shiver down your spine. Aegon has always been passionate, but there is something different in him now, something that has hardened over the years, a resolve that has been tempered by the constant battles he’s fought—not just against his enemies, but against his own heart.
“And what of Helaena?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. It’s a question that has lingered between you for years, a question that neither of you has dared to voice until now.
Aegon’s expression softens, a brief flicker of guilt passing through his eyes. “Helaena is… kind, gentle. She does not deserve this. But she also knows, deep down, that my heart has never truly belonged to her. She knows that I am bound to you in a way that cannot be undone.”
There’s a sadness in his voice, a recognition of the pain that his actions have caused, but also an acceptance that this is the way things were always meant to be. The Targaryen blood runs strong in both of you, and with it comes a fierce, unyielding love that will not be denied, no matter the cost.
“And what will you do?” you ask, your voice steady, even as your heart pounds in your chest.
Aegon’s gaze locks onto yours, his hand sliding up your body to cradle your face. “I will take you as my second wife, as Aegon the Conqueror did with Rhaenys and Visenya. One wife for love another for duty. It is my right, our right. The realm will have to accept it, or they will face the wrath of the dragons.”
His words are a declaration, a promise forged in the heat of passion and the blood of the dragon. There is no turning back now, no more hiding in the shadows. The path before you is fraught with danger, but it is also the only path that feels true, that feels right.
“And you, my love?” he asks, his voice softening as he searches your eyes for the answer that only you can give. “Will you stand by my side, as my wife, my queen? Will you help me claim what is ours?”
For a moment, the world outside ceases to exist. There is only Aegon, the man you’ve loved your entire life, the man who would move heaven and earth to be with you. You see the same fierce love in his eyes that you feel in your own heart, and you know that there is only one answer you can give.
“Yes,” you breathe, your voice steady, filled with the same fire that burns in him. “Yes, Aegon. I will stand by your side. I will be your wife, your queen.”
Aegon’s lips crash down onto yours in a kiss filled with all the passion, all the longing, all the love that you’ve shared over the years. It is a kiss that seals your fate, that binds you to him in a way that no one can break.
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The night had fallen thick and oppressive over King’s Landing, a dark shroud that seemed to suffocate the very air in the Red Keep. The corridors were eerily silent, save for the distant echoes of footsteps and the murmurs of a court forever on edge. You had been in your chambers, cradling little Maelor in your arms, his soft breaths a balm to your weary soul. It was a rare moment of peace, a fleeting respite from the storm that raged outside these walls and within your hearts.
But peace is always short-lived in the house of the dragon.
The sound of rushed footsteps reached your ears first, followed by the unmistakable clang of armor and the urgent whispers of the guards. Your heart skipped a beat, dread curling in your stomach as you clutched Maelor closer, his tiny body warm against you. Aegon burst into the room, his face pale and eyes wild with fear. He was breathing heavily, the effort of his desperate sprint evident, but it was the terror in his eyes that froze the blood in your veins.
"Aegon," you whispered, your voice trembling as you rose to meet him, Maelor still safely in your arms. "What has happened?"
Aegon barely seemed to hear you as he crossed the room in three long strides, his hands reaching out to cup your face, his touch frantic and trembling. "Are you hurt? Is he—?" His voice cracked, the fear so palpable it was like a living thing between you.
"We are safe," you assured him, though your own voice shook as you said it. "But, Aegon, what—?"
Before you could finish, the door to the nursery burst open, and Alicent’s voice cut through the air, a raw, broken sound that sent chills down your spine. “No… no… gods, no!”
Aegon’s head snapped towards the sound, his grip on you tightening as if he needed the contact to anchor himself, to remind himself that you and Maelor were still here, still alive. But you could see the fear, the terrible fear in his eyes as he pulled away from you and rushed towards the door that led to the twins' nursery.
You followed closely behind, Maelor held tightly against your chest as you entered the adjoining room, the sight that greeted you nearly making your legs give out beneath you.
The nursery was in chaos. The once serene room, filled with soft linens and gentle colors, was now a scene from a nightmare. Helaena was on the floor, her wails of grief piercing the air as she cradled the lifeless body of little Jaehaerys in her arms. Blood stained the floor, dark and stark against the pale stone, and beside her, Jaehaera was huddled, her small body shaking with silent sobs.
Aegon’s breath caught in his throat as he stumbled forward, falling to his knees beside Helaena. His hand trembled as he reached out to touch Jaehaerys, as if hoping—praying—that he would wake, that this was some horrid dream from which he could rouse.
But Jaehaerys was gone.
Your heart shattered as you watched Aegon, his face contorting in anguish, a guttural cry ripping from his chest as he gathered Jaehaerys’s small body into his arms. “No… no… my son…” His voice broke, the words choked and hoarse as he rocked back and forth, tears streaming down his face.
Helaena’s sobs only grew louder, more desperate, as she clung to Aegon, her grief a mirror of his. “They made me choose,” she gasped, her voice barely audible through her sobs. “They made me choose, Aegon… I couldn’t— I didn’t—”
Aegon’s head whipped up, his eyes wild as he looked at Helaena. “Who?” he demanded, though his voice was little more than a ragged whisper. “Who did this?”
“The butcher and the rat catcher,” she whispered, the names falling from her lips like a curse. “They came for us… they wanted revenge… they… they wanted a son for a son.”
The horror of her words washed over you like a wave, leaving you cold and numb. Revenge for Lucerys. The brutal cost of this war that now claimed the innocent, who had no part in the sins of their fathers.
Aegon’s gaze shifted from Helaena to you, and you could see the mixture of guilt and relief in his eyes as they landed on Maelor, safe and unharmed in your arms. He didn’t need to speak for you to understand the war raging within him. His son, his firstborn with Helaena, had been taken from him, and yet, Maelor, your son, was still here, untouched by the horror that had unfolded in the next room.
“Aegon,” you whispered, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you moved closer, your free hand reaching out to him. “I’m so sorry… so, so sorry…”
But what comfort could you possibly offer? There were no words to mend a heart so shattered, no solace to ease the pain of a father mourning his child.
Aegon’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the broken man beneath the crown, the weight of his grief threatening to crush him. But there was also that flicker of relief, of guilt, that he could not shake—that while one son had been lost, another still lived.
He rose slowly, still cradling Jaehaerys’s body, his movements careful, reverent. He looked down at Helaena, who was still on the floor, her arms wrapped around herself as if to hold together the pieces of her shattered soul. “Helaena,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I swear to you, I will avenge him. I will find those responsible, and they will pay. This… this I swear on his memory.”
Helaena only nodded, her eyes distant, as if she were somewhere far away, a place where her pain couldn’t reach her.
Aegon turned to you, his gaze falling on Maelor. His eyes softened, though the sorrow did not leave them, and he reached out to touch his son’s cheek, his hand trembling as he did. “He is safe,” Aegon murmured, almost to himself, as if trying to convince himself that it was true. “He is safe because of you.”
You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks as you looked at the man you loved, the father of your child. “It should not have been this way,” you whispered. “None of this should have happened.”
“No,” Aegon agreed, his voice filled with a quiet, simmering rage. “It should not have. But it has, and now we will have to live with it.” He looked down at Jaehaerys once more, a fresh wave of grief washing over him. “But I will not let this go unanswered. They will pay for this, every single one of them.”
His words were filled with a dark promise, a vow that you knew he would keep. The realm would bleed for this, just as you had bled, just as he now bled, with his son’s blood on his hands.
Aegon turned back to you, his eyes hollow, his face etched with a pain so deep you could scarcely bear to look at it. “Keep him safe,” he said, his voice hoarse, as if the very act of speaking was too much to bear. “Keep Maelor safe, no matter what happens. I cannot lose him, too.”
“I will,” you promised, your voice firm, though your heart ached with the weight of it. “I will keep him safe, Aegon. No matter what.”
He nodded, though it was a hollow gesture, and then he turned back to Helaena, who was still on the floor, lost in her grief. He knelt beside her, his free hand reaching out to touch her arm, and you saw in his eyes the same determination that had driven him through every battle, every hardship.
But this battle was different. This was a war of the heart, and it was a war that had already claimed too much.
You stood there, holding Maelor close, as Aegon mourned his son, and in that moment, you knew that nothing would ever be the same. The dragons had awakened, and the fires of vengeance would burn until the realm was ash.
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1800-fight-me · 3 months
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Love your writing :) Could you please do a story where reader/Aemonds wife gets captured and taken on a ship
Before Aemond of course comes to rescue his love
The Rogue Prince
Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader
Rating: M (Mature - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, implied smut
Word count: About 3.5k
Synopsis: Aemond Targaryen is loyal to his family and house above all, but what happens when his wife is captured and in mortal peril?
Author’s note: Thank you for this request! I hope you enjoy it!! Protective and possessive Aemond owns me... also I started writing this before I knew the plot of season two so the timeline of this fic doesn't make much sense but let's just pretend it does, okay? lol
I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Here's the link to my Aemond Masterlist if you want to check out my other stories! Also my requests are open, please send me some more!!
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There was commotion in King’s Landing. Chaos. Terror. 
You were not within the safety of the Red Keep as you normally were, as you should be. 
There was so much screaming you couldn’t think straight. 
Alicent grabbed your hand, her other hand in Helena's and pulled you both forward. 
The crowd pushed and heaved and you yelled as your hand slipped from your mother in law’s. 
Pure terror shot down your spine as the push of the crowd led you away from them, away from your family by marriage, away from the King’s Guards, away from safety. 
You were lost in a sea of limbs and panic, your screams completely unheard over the cacophony of scared sounds. 
You couldn’t even determine the source of the commotion, you didn’t see it, only the after effect as you were now pushed down the streets of the city. 
Water dripped down your cheeks, and when you looked up, the sky was clear. You continued to run with the crowd, in order to avoid being knocked over and trampled. 
You lifted a hand to your face, and realized you were crying. 
Another hand grabbed yours, and you gasped in relief, as you were harshly pulled to the side and into an alley. 
Your gasping breaths slowed as the crowd no longer threatened to crush you. 
You clenched your jaw and steeled your resolve as you realized the person who pulled you to safety was a stranger with a predatory gleam in his eyes. 
You lifted your chin and yanked your hand out of his. 
“Thank you for the assistance, kind sir, but I must get going. My family is expecting me,” you said firmly. 
A hateful chuckle came from the darkness behind you. 
You whirled around and saw two malicious looking men, behind them in the darkness there were two young women sitting on the ground with their hands and legs bound and gags in their mouths. There was fear unlike any you’d ever known in their eyes. 
That same fear now dripped down your spine, but you couldn’t give into it, instead you steeled your spine. 
“How much do you think we can get for this one?” The shorter man sneered. 
You thought of how your husband spoke to his enemies and tried to emulate that same haughty tone as you looked down your nose at them.
“I am a Targaryen. Return-“
”But you don’t got silver hair,” one of the men blurted out. 
You wrinkled your nose, ever the royal, and said, “I am the wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen. Return me to the Red Keep safely and I will make it certain you are rewarded for your goodwill.” 
The men’s smiles grew greedy. 
“Imagine how much we can get in ransom,” the one behind you muttered. 
“That would be an incredibly stupid course of action. The Prince is a viciously protective man and would surely kill any who attempt to kidnap me. He once broke a man’s arm for grabbing me in the halls of the Red Keep. Another time he broke a man’s nose for looking at me too long. It is in your best interest to leave me be,” you said sternly. 
The shorter one had the sense to look scared, but the bigger one, the scarier one, looked only overconfident. 
“The One Eyed Prince is not in King’s Landing, is he? I hear he is far away tending to the ongoing war within his house,” he said as he narrowed his eyes at you. 
You gulped. 
“He rides the largest dragon in the world, it would be a quick thing for him to be here to incinerate you all,” you said, your confident tone wavering slightly. 
“He’s not here now,” the one behind you said, and before you could look back at him there was pain as something hit you in the side of the head and the world turned black as you fell. 
You were floating on a sea of fire, the motion of the waves of flame rocking you back and forth, the gentleness bringing you a sense of peace and reassurance you had not felt since your husband mounted his dragon and flew off to war. 
The sky cracked open and rain poured as lightning flashed. But the flames you swam in remained strong, boosted you up, and as a bolt of lightning flashed towards you in slow motion, you held your hand up and the waves of fire surrounded you, protecting you from danger.
As you resurfaced you pointed your finger at the thundercloud and the fire shot like an arrow and decimated it. 
Someone shook your shoulder and as you woke, your body still rocked back and forth with waves, only furthering your disorientation as you found yourself  somewhere completely foreign. 
“Aemond?” You mumbled as nausea threatened to overcome you. 
“Princess,” a female voice said and you cracked your eyes open to find yourself in a fully wooden room with two women. They both laid on the floor in the tiny room, same as you. 
“Where am I?” You asked bewildered. Your head pounded and as you reached your hand and touched the side of it, you felt a tender bruise and hissed in pain. 
“Princess, don’t you remember? We were captured,” the other woman said. 
It all came rushing back to you and you pressed your lips together to avoid vomiting. 
“Y-yes, where are we?” 
“Somewhere in the middle of the sea,” the younger woman said quietly, her tone distraught. 
You were on a ship, shoved in a small room, surely in the hull, that had been transformed into a temporary dungeon you discovered as you stood, losing your balance for a moment, and attempted to open the locked door. 
“We already tried that,” the one with the dark hair said. 
You sighed. “Of course you did.” 
“How long have we been in here?” You asked, panic filling your chest. 
“My guess is a day and a half,” the younger woman said. 
You sank to your knees and allowed the tears to fill your eyes as the despair hit. 
You later learned that the names of the women you were trapped with were Marrion and Eliza. They were both as terrified as you, but managed to learn as much as they could about the men who held you, which they relayed to you in hushed tones for fear of the guard outside the door overhearing. 
“Is it true that your husband will come to rescue you?” Eliza asked hopefully. 
You pressed your lips together. “Yes, but who knows how long it will take him to learn of my capture, to find me?” 
Both the women looked down in dismay. 
You knew that Aemond would abandon his war, his family, his life for you. You knew he would fight, would bleed, would die for you. Such was his love and devotion to his wife, but his family knew that as well, and a small voice in the back of your head worried and warned you that perhaps his scheming grandsire would prevent word of your predicament to be sent to your husband. 
You wondered if you prayed to Vhagar if she would hear it and lead your husband to you, she was practically a goddess of war in her own right. You didn’t believe in any of the other gods your husband and his family worshiped.
“We need to make our own plan in the meantime,” you said firmly and they nodded. 
You lifted your skirt and pulled out the sapphire embedded dagger strapped to your thigh that your husband gifted you on your name day. 
Your companions had watched the men’s patterns before you awoke, and you based your plan off that. Listening to your husband and offering him support taught you a decent amount about strategy, and hours of training with him had taught you self defense skills as well, and it was time to put both to use, this time with you having the element of surprise, not the horrible men who stole you. 
The next day, when the guard unlocked and opened the door that kept your prisoner, you were prepared to charm and simper, but the man smiled at you in a way that made your stomach sink, and threw a dress at you. 
“The captain demands your presence, you have ten minutes to ready yourself,” he said with another lingering look before turning and slamming the door shut again. The lock was loud as it was clicked back into place. 
“Well that makes things a bit easier,” you said and both women laughed in shock with you before they helped you make yourself look more presentable. 
As you made your way towards the captain’s office, the pirates aboard the ship stared and sneered. You blinked against the brightness of the sun as it glittered over the blue sea. There was no sight of land that you could see, nothing but depthless ocean, no option for escape but a watery grave. 
Your hopes of an easy getaway were dashed, you had no idea how long you would be forced to remain on this ship until it reached land and you could enact your strategy for release. 
There was also no sight of Vhagar, no dragon roar in the winds, no dashing husband with a sword in hand, no one to save you. 
Your heart sunk to your stomach. 
The captain grinned at you, and you held in your grimace as you followed him into the room he led you to. 
There was a table in the center of the room, food laden upon it, and your stomach growled in protest. 
He chuckled at the sound, “Please, eat as much as you desire.” 
He sat across the table from you and you waited until he filled his plate and took a few bites, before you tore into the food before you, uncaring of being ladylike due to the feeling of starvation. 
“I hear you are a princess,” the man said and you looked up at him as you used your napkin to wipe your mouth. 
“Your men stole me from my wedded family,” you said. 
“The Targaryens,” he said. 
You nodded, unable to withhold your glare. 
“They’re not my men, in case you are interested, just men who sell me goods that make me gold,” he drawled and you resisted the urge to slap him. 
“I am not an item to be bartered and sold, I am the wife of Aemond Targaryen and you will release me safely or my dragon will burn you and your entire operation to the ground,” you said, softly but with passion. 
He had the gall to laugh at you. 
You gritted your teeth and attempted to quell your temper, but your fiery temperament was difficult to leash, it was what attracted your husband to you in the first place. 
“You’re a hateful bastard,” you spat. 
He laughed again, “Guilty as charged. Princess, when we reach our destination across the sea, your husband’s family will be contacted and ransom will be posted. My crew and I will get our money and you will be returned home.”
You glared, wishing your look could kill. Your hand inched up your leg, grazing the sheathed dagger hidden under your skirts that hadn’t been found and confiscated during your capture. 
Pirates began screaming and then there was an earth shattering roar. 
You smirked. 
He pulled out his sword and pointed it at you and rested the tip against your throat. 
“You will die for this,” you purred. 
“Stay put,” he said as he then stood and walked past you to the door. 
As he opened the door, there was the most glorious sight to behold. Vaghar cast a shadow over the ship large enough it was nearly dark as night. Aemond’s silver hair shined as he climbed down a rope from her saddle and landed on the ship, his sword out and began slaughtering. 
“Targaryen,” the captain yelled as he stepped out and stood on the bannister, looking down as your husband cut down his men. 
You stood and quietly slipped your dagger from its sheath as you crept behind the captain. 
“Where is my wife?” Aemond bellowed. 
Heat filled you in response to his presence, his rage. 
The captain opened his mouth to respond when a blade pierced the back of his neck, pushed through, and broke through on the other side of his throat, before the dagger was withdrawn. Red splattered as he choked on his own blood, the only sounds of his surprise. 
He turned around to look at his attacker and you gave him a feral grin. 
“I told you that you and your entire ship would burn,” you said sweetly before you pushed him over the railing, ignoring the sound and sight of his crippled body on the wood as you looked up at your Aemond. 
The fighting had indeed paused as all were shocked by the death of the captain. 
“I am here,” you said, blood spattered and filled with relief. 
Aemond released a sigh of relief and gave you a feral grin. 
“Come to me,” he said as his sword clashed with another, the men regaining their wits and attempting to kill him once more. 
Everything in you wanted to yield to his command, to run to him, to be in his arms, but you had one more task to complete. 
“In a minute,” you called out as you took off running back towards the cell you were kept in. As you looked back, you saw the confused quizzical look he threw at you as he continued to stab and end the lives of the men who stole you from him. 
You raced down the hallway, having memorized the way, and saw the guard as he unlocked and opened the door where your companions were kept. 
You stabbed him in the back, and ripped your dagger out, so when he turned around in surprise, you stabbed him again in the heart. 
You yanked your dagger from him as you looked at the women, and yelled, “Follow me!” 
You ran back from the belly of the ship to the safety of your dragon. But as soon as you were out in the open and saw him again, you realized he was in trouble. 
He was the most skilled fighter, but he was overwhelmed by numbers. You threw your dagger at a man about to stab him in the back, and it found its home in the enemy's forehead.
You then picked up a sword off a deceased body and attempted to fight, but the sword was quickly knocked from your hands.  
Your foe held his sword to your throat and you huffed in frustration. 
Marrion and Eliza hid behind you, and at least eight men stood between you and Aemond. 
“Enough,” the man who held your life in his hands yelled. 
The fighting stopped and Aemond’s gaze met yours across the ship. Fire gleamed in his eye, blood coated his hands, splattered across his clothing, his handsome face, his silver hair. He was a god of vengeance, your protector, the bearer of your heart and soul. 
“Return my wife to me,” he snarled. 
“We outnumber you, yield,” the man closest to him said through gritted teeth. 
“I do believe you are forgetting something,” Aemond said with a smirk and Vhagar roared loud enough to rock the boat. 
You huffed a laugh. 
The men took a step back from your husband, shaking in their boots. 
Aemond held his hand out to you, you looked back to the man who threatened you, and with a sigh he lowered his sword from your throat. You ran into Aemond’s embrace, he pulled you close with one arm even as he continued to hold his sword up against the men. 
The other two women followed you, and hid behind the two of you. 
“My love,” he murmured, “Climb aboard Vhagar and lead your companions to do the same. I will be there momentarily.”
You pressed a kiss to his blood smattered cheek and did as he ordered. You climbed the rope that led you to Vhagar’s saddle, and as you got settled, you assisted the others in doing the same. 
Aemond continued his stand off with the men who remained. When one jumped forward, attempting to attack, he unleashed himself. 
The opponents were no match for your dragon, despite their numbers, and Aemond slayed as many as he could, before grabbing onto the rope. 
With words in High Valyrian dripping from his tongue, he ordered his dragon to fly, taking him higher and away from the men who attempted to take you from him. 
Only moments passed, and then he yelled, “Dracarys.” 
Liquid fire encompassed the pirate ship and it burned just as you predicted it would. 
You watched the ship, the men on it, burn to ashes before sinking into the ocean as Aemond climbed atop Vhagar’s saddle and situated himself behind you, wrapping his arms around you, the other two women behind him. 
“Let’s go home, my love,” he said in your ear, gently and reassuring. 
You nodded, sinking into his embrace, and only tearing your eyes from the wreckage when it sunk beneath the watery depths. 
The return to King’s Landing was quick, and trusted guards returned the women with you safely to their homes, but not before you offered them jobs in the Red Keep, which they tearfully accepted. Descriptions were given of the men that sold you to the pirates, and you knew they would be dead by nightfall. f
Then, your husband led you to the small council chambers, you walked in feeling bashful, but he strutted in, led you to sit as he stood behind you, one hand on the back of your chair the other on your shoulder. 
“Aemond!” His mother exclaimed. 
He ignored her and instead glared at his grandsire. 
“Why was I not properly informed that my wife had been stolen,” he growled. 
“You left your post,” Otto replied. 
“I don’t give a shit about my post. My wife was in danger. Days went by, days that she was no longer in your protection as you had promised,” he said, his voice raised. 
“Aemond, we were doing everything we could to get her back,” Alicent attempted to soothe. 
“Not enough,” Aemond said through gritted teeth. 
“It was a calculated decision to not inform you, the hope was that we would have her back safety before you discovered that she was ever gone-“
”You calculated wrong.” Aemond said, his voice low and dark, the promise of violence so strong that you looked back at him and placed your hand atop his own. 
“Aemond, I am fine, I am safe,” you reassured. 
He glanced down at you, the words seeming to smooth some of the jagged panic inside him.
“And we are so grateful that you are,” Alicent replied. 
Aemond looked back up. 
“We need you to return, you and Vhagar are essential-“ 
“Fuck that,” Aemond said as he tugged on your hand, pulling you up out of your chair and by his side as he turned to leave. 
“Aemond!” Alicent protested. 
“My wife will stay by my side,” Aemond announced as you both exited the room. 
”My love?” You asked, breathless as he walked swiftly through the halls of the Red Keep, keeping you with him. 
“I will return to the war efforts on the morrow and you will come with me, do you understand? I cannot breathe when you are not near me. I cannot breathe when you are not safely in my arms. I cannot- “ 
“Aemond, look at me,” you said gently as you placed your hand on the side of his face. 
You had pulled him to a stop right in front of your chambers, they had gone unused since you wed him as he had immediately moved you into his own. 
His breathing was ragged, panic still threatening to pull him under. 
“You saved me. I am here. And I will stay by your side always, if that is what you desire,” you said softly but passionately. 
His lips crashed into yours. 
His grip was tight as he pulled you against the hard planes of his body. 
Your heart soared as his passion threatened to consume you. The waves of his fiery passion threatened to pull you under as his tongue tangled with yours and he moved, leading you to step back until your back hit the door and he pressed you against it. His hands roved from gripping your hips, one grazing the underside of your breast, the other caressing the side of your throat. 
He pulled his lips from yours long enough to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out, “Always?” 
“Always,” you promised as you pulled his lips back to yours. 
His hand reached the handle of the door behind you, and he guided you into the room. He spent the night proving his devotion to you, imprinting himself on and inside your body, giving you pleasure of unparalleled heights. 
And the next morning, your dragon kept his promise of always, and brought you with him, holding you tight and close on Vhagar’s back as he returned to wage war against his foes. 
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Aegon II: Don’t panic. I'm in charge!
Helena, Y/N, Aemond, fearing for their lives: THAT'S EXACTLY WHY WE ARE PANICKING-
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Aemond X Velaryon!Reader: An olive branch
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Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, talks of marriage, fluff, no use of y/n, female reader, incest ( because its hotd so of course), Velaryon reader, not proofread.
Word count: 2K
You watch Aemond move, his sword singing gracefully as he practices his fight moves. You hear Helaena  hum to the twins causing you to turn to face her. A small smile appears on your lips as you watch the children play. Heleana looks up at you suddenly, her eyes moving over your face before smiling at you.
“What is it?”
“I’m excited.”
“Whatever about?”
“The wedding of course.”
You didn’t know about any wedding that was to take place soon. You eyed Helaena ’s handmaidens curiously seeing the way they looked around with odd expressions. You’d been raised alongside Heleana's all your life and unlike your brothers you had developed a friendship with your aunt. People often judged her words, believing she was mad, but you always tried your best to understand her. Even so there were moments where you simply couldn’t make out what she was talking about.
“I think you're confused, your grace. I don’t think there are any weddings to be celebrated soon.”
“Not yet but there will be.”
Before you could ask what she meant Aegon burst through the doors. You rose for your seat excusing yourself from the room. You exited the doors not realizing someone was in front of you until you collided with them. Your body stumbled backwards losing its balance but before you could fall a hand wrapped around your waist, holding you upright. Your eyes found Aemonds, mouth opening slightly as his gaze penetrated you.
“Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
You could feel the heat of Aemond’s palm on your waist, causing your cheeks to heat up. You’d always had a soft spot for Aemond who, unlike his brother, had always shown you kindness. Well, as much kindness as he could give to the bastard daughter of his sister. Your family was complicated but you always tried your hardest to get along with everyone. You did it for your mothers sake, knowing  she had had to deal with a lot during her life. There was one small issue however. A secret you’ve kept hidden for years. Over the years you’d developed a somewhat overbearing desire for Aemond. You had thought it was merely because you'd become older and your body longed for pleasure but you realize you only ever felt flushed around the older Targaryen.
Your gaze would linger on Aemonds frame whenever he was in the room, your eyes falling on his long hair and strong features. You knew you would have to marry one day, your brothers had already been promised to their future wives but your mother had yet to suggest a husband for you. As the tensions rose in the household you couldn’t help but think that perhaps an alliance was overdue. And what better way to secure an alliance than through marriage? But you never brought it up, keeping your thoughts concealed form everyone. 
Well, almost everyone.
Helena knew of your thoughts. She was the only one you had confided in. You’d done so because you felt like you could trust her and because you needed to get the idea off your mind before it consumed you entirely. You never expected her to tell anyone and even if she did you assumed they wouldn’t believe you. 
You’d been wrong.
Aemond stared at you, his touch lingering on your body even after it was clear you had regained your balance. He often caught you glancing in his direction but he never thought much off it. He’d been teased his entire life and he knew his eye made people curious so he always assumed you were looking at him in judgment. It was only when Heleana told him of what you’d said to her that he realized he’d been completely wrong. You weren’t looking at him in disgust but rather in a longing manner. He couldn't seem to get the thought out of his head. You’d grown to be a beautiful woman and you were strong like him. In a lot of ways you two would make a wonderful match.  But he knew if he wanted this to work the way you’d thought he’d have to move fast. 
“Aemond.”
Your voice called him back to reality, lips pursing as he finally released your body. He gave you a small smile, his lips becoming a thin line as he did. He was always so shy looking when he was around you. It was a lot different from how he looked when he was training. You moved your hands over your dress, trying to straighten out the fabric. 
“Is that new?”
“Oh. Yes it is. I thought it’d be nice to wear something different for dinner. Does it please you?”
Aemonds brows furrowed at your questions. Why did you care about what he thought of your clothes? But then he caught sight of the way you looked at him. Like a small girl waiting for approval. He couldn’t help but smile at your delicate nature.
“It's beautiful. Just as you are.”
Aegon's voice rang through the halls as he called out for his brother. Aemond bowed his head to you slightly before making his way towards the door you stepped out of a couple of moments prior. Before entering he turned to look at you once more.
“See you at dinner.”
You nodded at him, watching as he entered the room before you began rushing down the hall. You walked fast through the castle, desperately trying to get to your chambers. You suddenly felt the need for a bath. 
Hours later you make your way down to the dining room, your dress trailing behind you. You walked into the room being greeted by the sight of your family. Your mother smiled at you as you made your way towards your seat. She placed a kiss on your head, her hand moving to grasp yours beneath the table. You leaned into your mothers caresses, closing your eyes.
Aemond observed the exchange from the other side of the table, a bitterness filling him. Rhaenyra was always gentle with her children, showering them with love at every opportunity. Aemond couldn’t help but feel jealous. The feeling faded a bit when he remembered what he had planned for tonight. If everything went well soon it would be him who held onto your hand. 
The dinner went on as it usually did, an eerie feeling surrounding the table you feasted on. That was how it always was with your family, one never knew when a fight might break out. Music filled the room causing your brother to rise from his seat. You watched Jace make his way to your mother, offering her his hand. She took it, allowing him to guide her into a dance. Heleana eyed Aegon, awaiting him to invite her to dance as well but he was far too focused on the ale in his cup to notice. You gave Heleana a sympathetic look.
“May I have this dance?”
You’d been so focused in observing the others that you hadn’t noticed Aemond make his way over to you. He stood beside you, his hand outstretched in invitation. You looked up at him in surprise for a moment before getting up from your seat and taking his hand. He led you to where your mother and brother were. You caught the way your mother gazed at Aemond curiously. But soon enough the only thing you could see was Aemond. He took the lead, guiding you through the dance effortlessly. His movements were perfect and precise while yours were fluid and natural. A perfect contrast to each other. Once you were finished Aemond turned to face the table, his hand grasping yours. 
“I have an announcement to make.”
The older members of the family eyed Aemond, trying to figure out what he was about to do. You prayed he was not about to do something stupid. You couldn’t handle a fight tonight. To your surprise, and to everyone else's, Aemond turned to look at your mother. 
“I would like your daughter's hand in marriage.”
Alicent lifted off her chair slightly, looking at her son with wide eyes. That was the moment that it became clear to you that Aemond had decided this by himself, he had not been guided to take action. He was doing this because he wanted to. Your mother hesitated for a moment before her eyes moved to look at your face. You knew what marrying Aemond would mean. You knew the consequences and you knew the duties you would have to perform but all you could think about at the moment was the feeling of his hand in yours. You gave your mother a small nod. 
“She accepts your offer.”
Heleana let out a delighted squeal, rising from her seat to make her way over to you. She pulled you into an embrace which you happily returned. 
“I told you it would happen.”
She had in fact warned you but you would have never guessed this was what she meant. Alicent rose from her chair raising her glass to you and Aemond.
“To the happy couple. May your union symbolize the bond of our houses.”
“Now and forevermore.”
Aliecent turned to look at your mother and you could swear you saw them share a small smile.
Later that night you were getting ready for bed when there was a knock on your door. You expected it to be your guard so you simply yelled out.
“You may enter.”
But instead of being greeted with the face of your guard you found yourself gazing up at Aemond. 
“Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine. I just wished to see my wife.”
It felt odd to hear him call you that.
“I’m still not your wife. We have not been married yet.”
“But we will be. Might as well begin referring to you as such.”
“Well then husband, what makes you come to my room at such an hour. You should be sleeping.”
Aemond walked around your room, taking it in. You watched him move around until he was closer to you. 
“I tried but sleep seems to be avoiding me. I couldn’t get these thoughts out of my head.”
“What thoughts?”
He gazed at you, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. 
“I wish to taste you.”
You let out a soft gasp at Aemonds words, his piercing gaze making you flush.
“We cannot.”
“Why not?”
“We aren’t married yet. It’s a sin.”
“I don’t care. The gods will understand.”
His hands moved over your nightgown, fingers grazing the skin beneath it. You leaned onto the bed, taking a seat. Your head spun at the feeling of Aemond’s skin on yours and even though you knew this was wrong you couldn’t get yourself to stop him. Aemond moved to sit on his knees before you, his hand moving to inch up your dress. He placed a kiss to your shin making you sigh. His hands moved over you gently revealing more and more of your skin to him. 
“Aemond i-oh gods- i need you to-”
“Shh, I know.”
He looked at your bare pussy, observing the way it glistened. He leaned his head forward, his tongue darting out to taste you. A moan ripped out of your lips at the feeling of his tongue on your folds. You gripped onto the sheets, breathing heavily as Aemonds tongue continued to move against you.  He groaned into you, lapping at your cunt in desperation. He hadn’t expected for you to feel this good. Your hand found his head, unconsciously pushing him closer to you. 
“Ah Aemond i’m close.”
Aemond sucked on your clit, his fingers moving to help him make you reach your orgasm. It didn’t take long before your body was launching forwards, a cry of Aemonds name on your lips as you came.  Aemond rested his head on your thigh, his eyes moving over the outline of your nipples through your nightgown as you breathed. 
“Satisfied husband?”
“For now.”
Aemond rose from the ground, moving to place a gentle kiss to your temple. You closed your eyes allowing him to caress you. And just as he had entered your chambers he exited them, leaving you to think of what was to come on your wedding night. Maybe this marriage would be more fruitful than you’d initially anticipated.
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the-fiction-witch · 5 months
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You are not a Queen. You are The Queen. My Queen.
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Alysanne Targaryen (Daughter of Rhaenyra, wife of Aegon) Rating - Sweet AF Word Count - 2437
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The carriage bumped and bustled through the king's landing streets, the crack of the whip of the horses echoing in the mad rush. 
Alicent sat across the carriage in her impressive green dress, with golden chains and symbols of the faith of the seven. The crown she has always worn as queen nettled in her brown hair with her veil trailing down her back. She sighs and hardens herself for what must be done. 
Aegon sits dressed in his finery even if he shivered and he slightly cried trying to think of any way he could escape this fate. "Do you love me?" He asked his mother his voice plaid it like a joke but she didn't know the strength it took for him to utter those four words, and the deep tethers within him that those words and her answer would hold. 
"You imbecile," she shook her head, 
Her answer was enough of an answer for him to understand, but he felt compelled to speak once more, "Where is Alysanne?"
For a moment there was silence, and it spoke more than her words ever could, but after a time she speaks, "I send word for her but she could not be fetched. We couldn't wait."
He chuckled, "She is my wife." He glared, "We couldn't wait five minutes for her?" 
"every moment we wait risks the wrath of dragon stone."
"Yet you had time to change your dress?" he glared, 
"She would remain where she is safe, with the children." 
"So if Rhynera comes to burn the red keep we will all be in the dragon pit, except my wife who is in the red keep." 
"That is not what I intended-"
"Maybe not but its a helpful circumstance," 
"We should not speak of this," 
Aegon tried to protest but they arrived at the dragon pit, before anyone had much time to think Aegon was forced from the carriage and taken inside no matter his arguments.
The High Septom prepared the oils as the smallfolk were forced through the streets and ushered into the dragon pit until it was full, A small stage was set up with Alicent, Otto, Cristen, Helena and Aemond all waiting, preparing for this moment. 
Otto steps out to address the crowd, "King's Landing! Today is the saddest of days! Our beloved king, Viserys the peaceful... is dead!"
Muttering of shock comes from the crowd, 
"But it is also the most joyous of days!" he continues, "For as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish that his firstborn son Aegon should succeed him"
more muttering but soon applause echos through the dragon pit, 
Members of the city watch rush the dragon pit pushing smallfolk as they do, they make a path to the stage half to keep smallfolk out, and half to keep aegon in. Horns ring out in royal tones as the armoured men raise their swords. 
Aegon does not wish to do this but he is forced out, so he takes slow and gradual steps a tear slipping from his eye as he begins the walk, the swords dropping behind him one by one, Each step makes him want to run, makes him want to fight his way out but with each one he is cementing his fate. 
His family's fate. 
His people's fate. 
His city's fate. 
His realm's fate.
He glances back and sees the swords are preventing his way, he really has no way back now. 
He holds 
"It is your good, great fortune to be here, to witness this. A new day for our city. A new day for our realm. a new king to lead us." 
He looks up and meets eyes with his mother a rage boiled inside him, that all this was her doing. 
When he climbed the steps she came and held his cheeks kissing his forehead, leading him by the hand to the Steptom of the faith of the seven. 
He looks to Otto who two gives him no choice he simply nods to him,
So Aegon kneels, 
silence rings out, 
"May the warrior give him courage, may the smith lend strength to his sword and shield, may the father defend him in his need, may the crone lift her shining lantern and shin his way to wisdom." the Septom says and with each anoints his head with oil, 
The crown is then taken from its pillow. The crown of Aegon the conqueror, sharp spikes of Valyrian steel with gems and jewels of finery. 
"The crown of the conqueror, past down through generations." Sir Criston takes the crown and places it on Aegons head even if the crown doesn't fit him right, "Let the seven bear witness, Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the iron throne." 
For the first time in what feels like hours, Aegon lets out a breath, feeling the weight of the crown on his head, he gets to his feet and looks to everyone in attendance seeing how each bows to him,
"All hail his grace! Aegon second of his name, king of the Andals the Roynar and the First Men. Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm!" 
The bells toll out as cheers erupt for him, 
Aegon looks out to see the faces of all those who cheer, all those who look at him with joy, none of them know the death and destruction he brings. But even so, he can't help but feel a pride, and a swell of his ego as he takes Blackfyre from his belt and thrusts it into the air. For a moment he is swept up in his own family's pageantry and feels a joy to be king. 
But it doesn't last, as a rumble comes from below and suddenly dust and stone erupt up from the floor of the pit, people scream and try to run but there is no way to get away as the floor crumbles under their feet the red queen comes though the floor the dragon crushing smallfolk and killing hundreds in her wake otto tries to demand the doors to be opened but people are already dying, as Rhaenys sits on top of her dragon as the dust clears.
Alicent jumps in front of Aegon putting herself between the dragon and him,
The Red Queen screeched at everyone before turning and flying out and away into the sky. 
Aegon remains in the dragon pit, the pageantry of the moment long faded, the true death toll of his day hitting him, the weight of the sword in his hand and the crown on his head causing him to ache. He had such conflict in his heart, as he truly thought it all though. 
He never wanted this... and yet it was done. 
He never thought he was the heir... yet now the crown rests on his head.
His coronation... left hundreds dead. 
This moment... had surely begun a war that would tear apart his family, his realm, his house and all that he held dear. 
And in all of it, he stands alone, or so he thinks. 
Alysanne walks the up the stairs he walked up, her eyes looking only at him. Her gown is a body of green velvet, with silver threat lacing the bodice, black leather sleeves tight to her skin all the way to her wrists, a large skirt of green velvet with black flames embodied on the bottom, a long cape from her shoulders of a sheer black fabric cut like dragon wings. Her hands behind her back as she reaches the stage, she bows to him dipping her knees and lowering her head before her eyes meet his once more. 
His wife, in this moment, she is the light in this darkness. but there is so much sadness in him as he looks at her starlight eyes. 
"I am sorry Alysanne," He told her, 
"I hardly believed it to be true," she began, "Once word reached me." 
He felt unable to speak,
"Oh Aegon..." she said, "what have you let your mother do to you?"
Aegon looks at her with a mixture of guilt and shame, his throat tightens with emotion as he takes in her words. "I didn't have a choice,"
"I know." she nodded, "You are the king," She said almost not believing her own words,
He looks away, his mind filled with sorrow and anger, he is king, but he isn't happy. "This... already ways heavily on me... I cannot carry it alone." 
"If you are a king... I suppose that makes me a queen," 
He feels the weight lift a little, to know that she is beside him in this, "I am not a King. I am the king. You are not a queen. You are The queen. My Queen." he gives her an affectionate smile,
"so it would seem," A smile escapes her, but soon fails, "what- What is to happen to our children?" Her voice was full of fear,
Aegon's heart sinks as she asks, he knows his children are in danger, he feels already like he has failed them and his wife, he knows no matter what he can't protect them from this. "I do not know..."
"Forgive me, I should not sour your victory with my concerns."
"You should, concerns are now my most important matters." He told her, "I am sorry Alysanne, truly, I wanted to share this moment with you more than anyone. I am so sorry you were left behind,"
"... well, it's over now. it doesn't matter."
"It does. you are my queen and the fact you where not beside me for this moment... it breaks my heart."
"I admit... I am upset. that your mother had called this, not just for the politics and the show of the realm but... she wore her finest dress, her gold and her jewels, brought your family here, coronated you in front of thousands, gave you a crown, a sword, and the title of king... and I. Was left at the red keep with our children. Like a nursemaid." she explained, "I wish I could have been here is all..." 
He felt his blood boil that she felt this way, he took her hand and squeezed it, "I wish you could have been here, I wanted this to be for us. I wanted to take the crown with you by my side to take your own. I wanted our children to be here to witness the crown that may one day be theirs. and my mother robbed us of that... I am sorry, truly sorry. and I know I can never repay the injustice done to you." he explained, "You are my queen... and... you do not even have a crown." 
"I do." she said, as she revealed her other hand, "She gave me this when they arrived back to the red keep." she said and in her hand sat a small tiara of gold and green. No larger than a hair clip, and for a moment he remembers the crown his mother had worn today a large headband of gold and emeralds His own wife. His queen. Was tossed a crown, Without even being given a coronation. "I... I hardly wish to wear it at all... seems... foolish," 
Aegon stares at the tiny tiara and feels an intense surge of anger at the treatment his wife has received. It is a reminder of her insignificance in his mother's eyes, and it hurts him deeply. But he doesn't want her to be sad, he wants her to be proud of her new station. He looks at her, her face filled with a mixture of anger and sadness, and he doesn't want her to feel that way. He wants to make her happy and to make her feel wanted and accepted. "Wear it." He says, firm but gentle. His voice is a command, but also an appeal. He wants her to wear this crown, to let the world know that she is his wife and his Queen and that he is proud of her. He wants everyone to know that she is the Queen, no matter what his mother says or does. 
"There's no point..."
"Here," He takes her by the hand and tugs her with him to stand in front of the banners, he takes the small tiara from her and smiles, he gives it a clean on his shirt to make sure no fingerprints are on it before he does is most epic and dramatic voice for her, "May the warrior give her courage, may the smith lend strength to her sword and shield, may the father defend her in her need, may the crone lift her shining lantern and shin her way to wisdom. May the mother be an ever-sweet light in her life, may the maiden keep her safe, and may the stranger's visits be few," He explained, "The crown of ... uhh... the most beautiful of queens," he makes up as this crown had no name, 
she chuckles at him and he gently but sweetly presses the tiara into her hair, crowning her as his queen, his hands run down her hair and he kisses her lips softly, 
"Let the seven bear witness, Alysanne Targaryen queen of the seven kingdoms." he proclaimed, "All hail her grace! Alysanne Targaryen, queen of the Andals the Roynar and the First Men. lady of the seven kingdoms, protector of the realm, beloved bride and mother. My queen. My sweet queen," he cooed, 
"Thank you Aegon," she smiled, 
"You're welcome, and I promise you. You shall have a crown more worthy of your beauty and title." He smiled, 
"I think we have more pressing matters than a crown Aegon," she said,
"True," He nodded as his heart sank, "... you said once, not long after our children were born, that perhaps it would be best to cut or losses, to fly to Dragonstone with the children to meet with your mother, to cleave to your mother and beg for her mercy." 
she shook her head, "... it's too late for that Aegon, no matter what side we are on. Blood will be spilt, and the only way to keep our children alive is to be on a side of our own." 
He nodded and briefly smiled, "You took to talking queen fast," He chuckled, 
She smiled, "Aegon darling, I have been talking and acting like a queen for as long as I can remember. Our family ensured that. Come. The children wish to see their new king, and we have much to do." she explained taking his arm, he nodded and squeezed her hand happily walking with her even if the two were beyond scared of what now was to be done. 
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divinesolas · 7 months
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Discovering yourself
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Request: Hiiiii. Would you please write something with Aegon x f!reader? I would love to see something where the characters are opposite. Would it be okay for the reader to be a bit shy and socially awkward and loves books and music but at the same time wants to experience a bit of life but doesn’t know how and is a bit afraid to get out of her comfort zone. Once she gets to know someone she talks and is super fun but it takes her a bit of time. And then there is of course Aegon who we know is quite the opposite. The reader fancies him and the two fall in love? Could that be possible? Thank you.
w.c: 3.4k
c.w: baratheon!reader, ooc aegon probably, hes a bit of an ass sometimes, fluff, insecure/shy reader, sfw! no smut since the request didnt state it, not proofread
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Unlike the rest of your family you had been more than happy when your family received an invitation to stay at kings landing in the red keep for a helena's name day festivities as she had become close with your sister floris. You had not been able to come with the rest of the family last time as you had been in bed rest. 
You couldn't even imagine how big the red keep had been and while on the way there you could barely sit still your sister hitting you on the shoulder more than once to stop you from moving around.
“Welcome back to the keep.” Alicent greeted the rest of your family before he eyes locked onto yours, “I don't believe I recognized you.”
You open your mouth to say something but there's a pause and nothing manages to come out so you put your head down as your father speaks, “my daughter, lady y/n, she was bedridden the last time we came to visit.”
Alicent lets out an acknowledged hum and you keep your head down fiddling with the fabric on your dress. You're sure your father will scold you later. 
“a pleasure, this is my son aemond and his lady wife heleana, aegon could not be here..”
you can hear the annoyance in her tone but choose to not acknowledge it and greet the other two siblings.
more formalities are exchanged between the two families, “it is so wonderful for house baratheon to join us for heleanas nameday festivities, she has grown quite fond of your family-” 
the doors of the room you were all in burst open, all head whip back to look in shock, “prince aegon!”
“I am here.”
“You are late.” you hear his mother hiss quietly to him as he stands in place next to his siblings.”
“apologies, my son prince aegon.” 
alicent introduces her son. You had heard the stories of Targaryen beauty and thought the two Targaryen siblings were gorgeous but Aegon, despite the fact he looked tired and a little sloppy, was a different level of beauty. He hadn't even needed to try and he wowed you. 
as if he could feel your stare he locks eyes with you and you shyly put your head down towards the floor oblivious to the smirk that's grown on his face.
Some more pleasantries were exchanged but you didn't bother to lift your head still feeling his stare. You wish you weren't so awkward, if you had been anything like your sisters who could keep their heads up high and smile while locking eyes while you could barely hold a sentence with these people.
You barely even notice you had all been dismissed until you felt yourself being dragged away by your sister floris. A part of you can't get the idea of Aegon out of your head, even  as you fall asleep that night you wonder if you'll get the opportunity to speak with him.
Today was meant to be the first of a three day long festival including a grand feast, a tourney and finally a ball all in honor of heleana.
The second you walk outside you are immediately hit with hundreds of people, it was definitely a celebration with music, people dancing, some watching the performers. It was magical, you had never seen such life brought to one place before. 
You and the rest of your family were sitting in one of the higher tables closer to the targaryens, you watch as floris eagerly runs up to greet heleana while you stand with your sisters who make many comments on the festivities.
“I can't believe he can put that whole sword down his throat.”
“It was just on fire too, how preposterous.” 
“Maybe he just has a lot of practice. Do you think he’s fond of men.”
Cassandra and Ellyn turn to you in horror while maris lets out your name in a chuckle while hitting your shoulder.
You shake your head with a grin but are horrified to hear the sound of laughter behind you and turn around.
“Prince aegon.” you're all clearly mortified as you all bow but he moves to stand next to you and stare at the man. 
“If he is not he should start to be there is so much potentially to be held.” 
“I am so sorry my prince i should not have-”
He waves you off with his hand and continues to look on in the crowd, “these events are such a bore they practically force you to make such a joke.”
“I did not mean to offend-”
“You talk like my brother.”
You have nothing else to say back instead just stand and watch the crowd disperse. It is only then you notice your sisters have all walked off elsewhere and you curse them in your head as the two of you stand in silence aside from the gulps Aegon takes from his chalice.
“What do you think about her?”
He points towards a contortionist not too far from where the two of you were standing. She had her leg way over her head.
“She is very pretty.”
“Oh come on, you must have some other comments to make.”
You tilt your head at her as she moves into a split and lays down flat on her stomach.
“Men must certainly fight for her attention, I am sure she is a rather capable woman.”
Your words are faster than a bird and quieter than a mouse but Aegon certainly hears them and bursts out into a roar of laughter causing those around you to turn and stare. Your face flushes and you stare at the ground as Aegon composes himself still chuckling. 
“You are a scandalous lady, y/n.”
You shake your head, “I do not know why I said such a thing.” 
“You said it because it is true, look,” he leans in closer to you, much too close, and subtly points, “look at lord simon staunton he looks like he wants to eat her alive.”
You gasp and bring a hand to your mouth as you take notice and look back at Aegon who has a smile on his face, “he is old enough to be her grandfather, no even her great grandfather! That is ridiculous.” 
Aegon shrugs, taking another sip of wine with a chuckle. “I rather think that's what he likes about it.”  
You can't help but laugh for the first time in this whole conversation keeping your head down. Once you finally lift your head and look at him he's already looking at you. You feel a rush of heat flood your face, he stares at you for a moment longer, his eyes drift down to your lips. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can you hear your fathers voice call out your name.
“I must go.” you quickly turn, feeling embarrassed about the sudden tension between the two of you and barely hear him as you rush away, “i shall see you lady y/n”
You can barely relax the rest of the day your conversion with Aegon playing in your mind over and over. It was the first time you had been sop open with somebody you barely knew. It was so refreshing to be able to joke and laugh with someone who was not your family.that night you toss and turn in bed with a big smile on your face. In turn you cannot sleep so you sit up and contemplate what to do. 
You would normally read a book but your father wouldn't allow you to take any on this trip saying there was no need for it but right now youre groaning and fall flat back on the bed. 
An idea suddenly hits you, you remember from the tour one of the guards had given you there was a library not too far from your room. It wouldn't be an issue to go and grab a book really quickly right. A grin finds itself on your face as you realize the red keep has many books you have never read or even heard of and before you know it you throw on an overcoat and begin to quickly make your way over to the library with a lantern in hand.
Nobody would mind if you just took one maybe two books to keep you sated for the rest of your stay here right? That's what you think as you manage to sneak in and out of the library with two books under your coat as you quickly try to make your way back to your room. You almost reach your door before a voice behind you rings out.
“Now what could you be doing, wondering about by yourself..”
You turn and gasp, “prince aegon.”
In your shock the books fall out of your hands, you quickly bend down to pick them up missing the ‘ah’ that had escaped his lips.
“So you read?”
“I am so sorry-”
“You did not answer my question.”
You stall for a moment, not daring to lift your head from the floor. “Yes.”
He hums, “you are quite like my brother. I see no fun in it.”
At a loss for words you keep quiet and take a step back closer to your door, turning around fully before you speak, “i shall bid you goodnight-”
“You will sit in the royal box tomorrow for the tourney.” your movements freeze and you're thankful you are not facing him as your face must be full of shock. 
You manage to compose yourself not turning around, “i thought my family would be sitting in one of the lower boxes-” 
“Not your family. You. you shall sit in the royal box. With me.” 
You feel a wild course of emotions run over your body. What does he mean, just you? Is he attempting to court you? He is trying to seduce you? Does he want something from you? Or maybe he is just trying to be kind? Maybe he takes pity on you after you had embarrassed yourself the last two days? 
You must be frozen for a while because he begins to laugh. You take a deep breath, “I must decline.” because you certainly cannot sit in the royal box with the prince. What would the people think? What would your father think? You cannot even imagine having to try and explain why you would be sitting with them tomorrow.
“This is not a request. You shall join me tomorrow. I am the prince. I say it is so.”
“But my family.” “They shall sit in the box in one of the many stands below.”
“I cannot just leave my family.”
He tsks and huffs, “then so be it your family shall join us too. I'm sure heleana would be happy to be seated with floris.” 
Did he want you to sit in the box so badly he was willing to just add your family at your request just like that? No, he wanted you to sit in the box. With him.
“alright, goodnight my prince.” 
You do not even wait for a response as you book it down the hallway and slam the door to your room shut. The books you had gotten drop to the floor as you cover your hands with your face. Out of breath like you had just ran a marathon you find yourself unable to stop smiling. 
When you and your family make your way outside you pretend to be shocked when your family is escorted to the royal box. You all greet the royal family who all stand to greet you. Aegon grabs your arm and ushers you to sit down next to him. You ignore the burning stares of your family as aegon quickly makes conversation with you. 
“Isn't the view so great from here aren't you happy I told you to sit here?” it's not a question more so a statement and all you can do is nod your head.  
“Oh come on you must have something to say to me.” he pouted at you and you swiftly turned away from him, “well you did not ask.” you mumble and he smiles, shaking his head and takes a drink of wine. “I certainly did not. You would have sat here one way or another.” 
You're thankful Aegon is sitting in the front row of the box while the rest of your family is all the way in the back so at least you won't have to deal with the questioning of your family.
“Did you prepare a favor lady , y/n?” you turn back to face queen who addressed you and nod, “yes my queen.” not mentioning it is the same favor you've had for awhile as no one had ever asked for your favor. You do not take notice to aegons clenched jaw at the question and narrow eyes at the question.
The journey begins and you've never seen a tourney as big as this one. But as it is it is pretty uneventful. You cannot hold your surprise when you see aemond being introduced. “He is competing?”
Aegon next to you hums as he continues to drink, “he does not like this stuff, calls it horse shit but heleana wanted to see him compete so he entered.” 
He of course comes up and asks heleana for her favor which she gladly gives him before he rides away.
“And his opponent, ser bronn beesbury!” The man rides in full confidence. When he takes off his helmet you can't help but admit he is a very handsome man, certainly not more handsome than Aegon but he was a very attractive man. He rides over near the royal box and Aegion sits up for the first time this whole tourney.
“Lady baratheon, you are the essence of beauty.” he holds up his hand towards the box and you're shocked in a haste you look over the edge and toss out your favor for him to catch. 
“You bless me this day my lady.” 
You sit back in your seat unable to say anything. You end up glancing at Aegon expecting him to make some comment about the man as he had been doing with all the other fighters that day. He was not even looking at you. An unreliable look on his face as he tapped his fingers on the table next to him. He started dead at aemond who stared back for a moment before nodding and slamming his helm down. 
The match began and you were wowed as aemond swiftly takes ser bronn down with an extra hard hit and ser bronn hits the floor and doesn't stand back up. You gasp as he's dragged off the scene and for the first time in the last couple minutes Aegon laughs turning to you. “What a fool thinking he can go against a targaryen.” 
A part of you feels like he's not just talking about aemond.  
you didn't speak to Aegon after the tourney as the men went out on a hunt and you're grateful especially since you're more than embarrassed after your thoughts during today's tourney. 
Though it is very tough to answer your family's questions when you don't even know yourself.
Finally it was heleanas name day and the day of the ball. You spent the morning with your family, the royal family nowhere in sight seemingly preparing for tonight's ball.
When you arrive back in your room that afternoon to prepare for the ball you and your maid are shocked to see a beautiful red and black gown laid out on the bed. “Did my father prepare this?”
The maid shook her head, she's been your maid for as long as you can remember so she freely speaks around you, “the baratheons may be wealthy little ones but your father could not afford a dress like this one.” 
The dress is gorgeous as you run your hands down it you can barely believe it.
“Well come on little one let's get you dressed.”
When your family comes knocking on your door their eyes all drop to your dress, “what is this look about?”
“Where did you get that dress?” 
“Oh I made it just today.”
“Shut your mouth and tell me.”
“I had no idea it was simply on my bed when I walked into my room.”
The discussion of your dress continued until you had been standing in front of the door waiting to be announced.
“Is it not obvious the prince has given her the dress?” You and Cassandra whip your heads to look at maris who shrugs. 
“Oh come on it's in the Targaryen house colors and obviously he seems obsessed with our dear sister.” 
“Be quiet you three” you would be surprised if your father could not hear the pounding of your heart as you consider maris’ idea.
Would the prince really leave you a dress like this? What could that possibly mean? Before you have any time to think, you and the rest of your family are being announced.
As you walk into the room you fail to ignore the stares of your fellow peers as they all seem to gawk at the dress you had been wearing. Keeping your head lowered slightly you eagerly rush to your seat. 
Soon after the main family is announced and everyone stands. When you see Aegon, a pit forms in your stomach. The suit he wears is basically identical to the dress you had on, your sister maris clearly also takes notice of this as she leans towards you, “told you so.” 
As the queen gives a speech and thanks everyone you attempt to hide yourself behind your father out of embarrassment but still manage to notice the smug look on aegons face as he looks over at you. 
Soon enough dinner is served and the music starts and you forget for a moment why you had been so embarrassed in the first place laughing with your family over good food and good music. After the food in front of you had been cleared you feel eyes staring into your back, refusing to turn around you attempt to continue the conversation you had been having with your sister maris who comments on the fact that one of the lords had stepped on ever girls foot whom he's danced with which causes you to laugh. 
A throat clears behind you and you freeze, maris smiles, “good evening my prince.” Everyone greets him as well and he gives a greeting back. You turn back to look at him and your eyes widen as he holds out his hand. 
“Dance with me.”
He says it in the same tone he had told you you were to sit in the royal box with him. It is not a question. “Aren't there any other ladies you would prefer to dance with?”
“No. Now come on.”
You glance over at your father who smiles and moves his head signaling for you to dance. 
You grab aegons hand and he is more than eager to let you onto the dance floor with him. “I heard you are fond of music.” 
“I am my prince,, where did you hear that?”
“One of your sisters had mentioned it. The plain looking one.”
You gasp, “how could you say such a thing?”
He chuckles his eyes never leaving yours, “I am simply stating the truth, I apologize.”
You huff and turn your face away from him, “if anything i am the plain one my prince.”
He huffs as he grabs your chin and turns your head to face him, “you are not. Now shut your mouth.”
A silence fills between the two of you as he continues to stare at you. “Why do you think that?” A pathetic laugh escapes you, “I am not the funniest, I am not the most pretty, not the most talented. I am the quiet sister who has no idea how to speak to people or has no confidence in anything. I shall remain alone forever as a spinster while my sisters all go off and get married.” 
The song ends and the two of you stand still while everyone claps. You do not look at him while he stares at you.  
“If you are so boring then why have you captured me so. If you are not unfunny then why do I find myself laughing more in your presence than I ever have. If you are so untalented then why are you the first lady I've enjoyed dancing with? If you shall remain alone forever then why do I wish to be by your side.” 
You don't even notice that all the eyes in the room are staring at the two of you, aegon is your whole world right now.
“Marry me. And I shall open up the world to you.”
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g1rlw1th0n33ye3 · 5 days
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When the sun goes down.
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Summary ~ Aegon Targaryen II x reader ( no use of y/n cause noo) Aegon finds out something unexpected during his most recent visit to the street of silk.
Warnings- Dubious consent, Drunk sex, its Smut so like yuh know 🧍🏽‍♀️
Also, this is my first fic ever so be nice, please!! I had a day off and a bottle of pink Whitney so here we are! I hope you enjoy also Aegon isn't complete scum of the earth in this story because no that face to pretty for that bad writing and he's not married either Helena and Jace are married and the twins are Jace's kids instead of Aegon's for plot reasons ok enjoy my baby dolls and lemme know if you want a part two!! 🫡
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The hour was late as Aegon made his way through the tunnels of Megors holdfast intent on getting to the street of silk as fast as he could he needed something to destress after another unbearably dreadful family dinner they'd been happening more frequently since Helena had given birth to another baby boy this one with bright white hair unlike the two twin babes heads full of brown curls like there father she had given birth to two years earlier it seems his mother has finally accepted that the delusional idea of annulling the marriage was no longer possible now the two sides would favor being intertwined whether she liked or not though her new urge for family dinners to try and bring the family together prove her delusion is not fully gone. Aegon thinks to himself as he slides himself past the guards. Dressed in his usual common clothes disguised for sneaking about so as not to raise any suspicion to the roaming gold cloaks he kept his hood placed high on his head to hide his white tresses as he bobbed and weaved through the huddles of small folk through the streets of flea bottom till he reached his favorite brothel on the street of silk though he hadn't frequented it in awhile a new brothel full of women from Essos had been keeping him otherwise occupied but tonight he wished to be in the place he called closest to home as he entered hood down looking a disheveled mess the madam had immediately come up to him ready to shoo him off till he took off his hood white hair flowing freely that she stopped in her place and instead ushered over the cupbearer and grabbed a glass of wine from the girls tray and holding it out for Aegon
" my prince we haven't been graced with your presence in some time what a pleasure what can i do for you this fine night my prince" the madam spoke with almost an unnerving smile Aegon looked about the room taking it all in before speaking to the madam "I don't know about a fine night but just keep sending pretty girls to fill my cup for me and I'm sure soon it will be " he said before grabbing the wine and making his way to the pile of pillows and blankets strown around a little make shift stage with a dancer atop as he settled down and began chugging his wine beginning to feel the effects of his drink the whole room starting to feel like a warm mix of colors when he finally gazes upon the dancer he's settled Infront of taking in her beautiful face and body adorned in jewels she looked strangely familiar like a face he new but hadn’t seen in a long time the longer he watched you move the more he feel like he was falling into a dream the way you danced around swirling silk scarves in every direction pulling him in that mixed with his cup of wine the bar maids made sure to never let empty he was sure he was in a dream now, he was suddenly snapped out of his trance when he saw you dismount your makeshift stage and make your way for the stairs that led to the back rooms where the girls slept men weren’t allowed back there cause that’s where many of the other girls left the children to sleep while they worked if he didn’t get to you now you he would be out of luck for the rest of the night, he quickly got up and moved as fast as his drunk limbs would carry himself to get to you before you slipped through his grasp “ you there stop “ he said somehow out of breath from simply getting up to cross the room .
Stopping in your place as you adjust your robe you had finished your final dance of the night and were ready to rest your tired legs on your bed when you hear some drunk fool calling out behind you surly following you to ask for a night of your company though your surprised when you turn and are instead met with a drunken prince falling over himself to get to you. “ My prince i was just about to retire to my chambers but i’d be happy to find you another to serve you for the night” you say forcing a smile on your face “ you look familiar have we met before though i don’t think i would have forgot a night with someone as enticing as you” he whispers the honey laced words to you as he comes closer you try to back up to keep a respectable distance but he’s right on your tale “ y…yes my prince we did spend a night together some three years ago i was much different looking then so it’s understandable your memory fails you and well you were also quiet drunk m’prince “ you reveal hoping it will get him off your back men rarely want the same thing twice in a place like this a shame “ a shame i can’t recall though it just gives us more reason to make new ones “ he’s says leaning in to whisper in your ear his warm breath the smelled of honeyed wined fanning your face words catching in your throat at the way he pressed his nose to the side or your face to breathe in your smell “ I’m sorry to disappoint M’ prince but i’m just a dancer now my company is unfortunately not for sale and the madam would be upset with me for taking client from her actual girls but id be happy to help you find one of them “ you feel him pull away at your words a grunge pained on his face “ I didn’t ask for some other girl i asked to spend my time with you and i don’t see the madam here making sure her costumers are tended to so why don’t we just keep it between us and i give you all this gold i have here one this sack and this here “ he says handing you a fully stuffed bag of gold dragons and the golden ring that adorned his middle finger your jaw particularly drops at the sight of all the gold “ for you just for you not the madam what she knows won’t hurt her and will certainly help you “ he says with a mischievous glint to his eyes you look back down at the small fortune he’s handed you it nearly enough to get you out of this dreadful city
“we can do whatever you want “ he speaks one more time trying to convince you a hopefull drunk sloppy smile painted on his face even you can’t deny is charming “ I… alright”
You led him down the stairs by the hand to your small chambers at the very end of the long hall that held all of you and all the other girls' rooms you quickly pulled him in and turned to lock the door to avoid any prying eyes though it was unlikely anybody would be around at this hour non of the other girls usually made it back to there chambers before the sunrise when you turned from the door you found him sat at the edge of your bed taking off his heavy boots and placing them to the side before getting up and beginning his exploration of your room " did you spend all that coin just to gaze upon my perfumes and lotions " you finally speak trying to break the tension, he chuckles to himself before speaking " Mayhaps I did i mean I did say we could do whatever you wanted so you tell me what I paid for " he says looking at you with that tempting smirk of his " Whatever you'd like to m' prince" you say as you remove your robe to be only left in your dancing clothes if they could even be called that it was two simple strips of silk one covering your breasts and one covering your bottom all connected with a strip of jewels to make a sheer dress. You watch as he watches you as you remove your robe before stalking over to you trapping you between the door and himself. The moment Aegon pinned you between the door and himself, the air crackled with an electric tension. His violet eyes gleamed with mischief as they took in the sight of you, draped in the delicate silk of your attire, expertly designed to entice. “Call me Aegon,” he said softly, his voice low and enticing. “There's no need for formality here, pretty girl.” You tilted your head slightly, a playful smile gracing your lips. “Aegon,” you replied, letting his name roll off your tongue with a hint of teasing. It felt daring, refreshing, in a world filled with whispers and expectations. “What do you want?” he asked, leaning in just a fraction closer, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the weight of his presence, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. A smirk danced across your face as you countered, “What do you want, Aegon?” It was a bold question, not typically asked of a prince, but you had learned to navigate these encounters with a blend of charm and confidence. He paused, a glimmer of surprise flashing in his eyes. “I want to know you—beyond what I see in this place. For tonight, I want to escape the constraints of my title and be just a man in your presence.” Your heart raced at his words, intrigued by this unexpected vulnerability. “Then let’s embrace that freedom together,” you suggested, eager for an evening untethered from convention. With a swift, graceful movement, you stepped closer, the silk of your dress brushing against him. “I must admit, I don’t often get to entertain a prince,” you said, your voice rich with playful mischief. Aegon chuckled, clearly delighted by your banter. “I’m not like the others, I assure you.”
As the tense atmosphere thickened between you, you could feel your pulse quickening. Every heartbeat echoed the electric pull between you—a magnetic attraction that begged to be explored. “Can I…?” he began, hesitation lacing his voice as he searched your eyes for permission.You nodded, breath catching in your throat. “Please,” you whispered, excitement pooling in your stomach. Aegon leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft but eager kiss. The taste of him sent shivers racing through your body, igniting a flame of desire that radiated from your core. You melted against him, feeling his warmth envelop you as he deepened the kiss.His hands found your waist, fingers sliding under the silk of your dress, caressing your skin with a slow, tantalizing touch. You gasped into his mouth, a mixture of surprise and longing coursing through you.
“Beautiful ,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot as he pulled back just enough to search your eyes. With a surge of confidence, you leaned in, kissing him again, more fervently this time, deepening the connection that was rapidly spiraling into something primal. You could feel his heartbeat racing alongside yours, the tension thickening in the space around you. As he kissed you, his hands traveled further up your sides, gripping your waist with a firm but gentle hold. You arched into him, yearning for more, your body responding instinctively. Aegon used the momentum to press you back against the wall, the solid surface grounding you as he pressed his body closer, molding you against him. “Do you want this?” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, igniting a rush of desire. “Yes,” you breathed, feeling the heat flush your cheeks. “I want you.” His gaze ignited with hunger at your words, and he captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, as if he were trying to consume you whole. “Let’s move to the bed,” he suggested, voice gravelly as he pulled back, clearing the space to carry you. Without waiting for an answer, he swept you off your feet, lifting you into his arms effortlessly. You gasped, your heart racing as he carried you to your simple bed draped in soft, inviting silks to seem more lavish . He gently laid you down on the mattress, hovering above you, his violet eyes burning with fervor. The anticipation making your body ache for his touch as Aegon slipped lower, trailing kisses along your body. He kissed down your neck, over your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breasts, but he didn’t stop there. His eyes darkened with desire as he made his way down your torso, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Let me taste you,” he murmured, glancing up at you for permission. The intense anticipation made your breath hitch, and all you could do was nod, overwhelmed by the way he looked at you, like a man starved.
He nestled between your legs, and as he kissed the soft skin of your inner thigh, your body tingled with excitement. The heat of his breath against your most sensitive areas made you squirm, the anticipation driving you wild. With teasing slowness, Aegon’s mouth found your core. The moment his tongue made contact lapping t your senstive bud, a gasp escaped your throat. His tongue moved with a masterful grace, licking and swirling, expertly coaxing pleasure from you. “Oh, Aegon,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his short curls as he pressed closer, the sensations building rapidly within you. He drank you in, sounds of your pleasure encouraging him, urging him to explore further. “Just like that,” you gasped, hips instinctively rocking against him. The pleasure he gave you was overwhelming, a wave of ecstasy that swept through you, threatening to consume you. He moved with determination, using his tongue to tease and tantalize, exploring every sensitive spot with the precision of a skilled lover. Each flick sent jolts of pleasure sparking through your body, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel your breathing becoming erratic, each gentle stroke igniting an inferno deep inside you. “I’m so close,” you gasped, unable to restrain the sounds bubbling from deep within. Aegon heightened his pace, his mouth working you to the brink, the pressure building so exquisitely that you could hardly believe it. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in an intimate dance of pleasure. With a final surge of intensity, you cried out, your body arching as waves of bliss crashed over you, holding you captive in a sweet surrender. The sensation consumed you, leaving you breathless and blissfully spent. He emerged from between your thighs, a smug smile gracing his lips as he wiped them with the back of his hand. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. Now, with your body humming from pleasure, you pulled him in for a hungry kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. The heat between you flared back to life as your bodies tangled, the urgency of your connection surging once more. With renewed desire, you whispered, “Now I need you inside me.” His eyes darkened with longing at your words. “I can make that happen,” he replied, his fingers hastily shedding his trousers, to release his aching cock. He hastily positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his leaking cock head over your weeping slit before slowly, achingly, pushing his cock inside you, breaking through the last barriers that kept you apart. You gasped, a mixture of pleasure and fullness consuming you as he filled you so completely. With a deep, primal urgency, he began to thrust, the rhythm of your bodies a perfect match. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you, driving you both toward the brink. “Just like that,” you urged, feeling the tension within you build with every thrust. “Tell me how good it feels,” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly as he continued to drive into you, at a frantic pace
“It feels … uh soo good, Aegon i’m so close ,” you moaned, feeling your body tighten around him, welcoming him deeper. “ Me to sweet girl, me too “ he panted into your neck as he continued to pound into you cunt your sweet little sounds spurring him on the heat between you both intensified, and with one final thrust, you both reached your peak, aegon not bothering to pull out as his cock spent itself inside you continuing his thrusts till he could no longer handle it falling flat on top of your sweaty form cock still sheathed inside your cunt you can hear his panting breathes beginning to even out and him began to drift away to slumber your about to protest and tell him he’s crushing you and he can’t sleep here when he scoops you up flipping you both over so your rested on top of him instead head placed right over his heart the soft beating lulling you away to. Just one moment like this wouldn’t be so bad you think to yourself just a minute and you’ll wake him up and tell him he has to go but for now you will enjoy the warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his heart beat lulling you to bed.
The soft hues of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the lavish room. You slowly stirred awake, wrapped in the comfort of the sheets, a sense of bliss enveloping you as memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Aegon lay beside you, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber, the warmth of his body a comforting presence.
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a mix of affection and excitement. Last night had been a whirlwind of passion and connection—something you hadn’t anticipated when you first saw him. Stretching slightly, you turned to him, admiring the way the morning light danced on his features. But as the reality sank in, urgency washed over you; you had to get Aegon out of here before anyone else in the brothel woke up. “Aegon!” you whispered urgently, gently shaking his shoulder. Before he could fully process your words, the door flung open with a loud bang, and an adorable little girl burst into the room. She had bright, tousled white hair and wide, lilac eyes that darted around, filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. “Mama!” she called, her voice filled with sweet yet panicked urgency. The sight of her jolted both you and Aegon wide awake. He shot upright, confusion etched on his face as he took in the scene before him. “Who is that?” Aegon asked, his voice laced with shock, turning from you to the little girl. You felt your heart race. “Anya, honey, what are you doing here?” you asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. “I woke up and couldn’t find you!” she said, her tone shifting as she caught sight of Aegon. “Who’s he, Mama?” Aegon’s brow furrowed as he took in Anya's features, realizing that she had the same bright white hair and lilac eyes as him . “Anya?” he murmured, a sense of recognition dawning on him as he thought out every possibility of who the girls father could be but Daemon hadn’t been to kings landing in Five years since jace’s wedding and this girl couldn’t be older then three, aemond was to preoccupied with his old bat to be fathering bastards and there was no way his father was visiting the street of silk in his declining health there was only one answer . “Is… is she mine?” You felt the weight of the unsaid truth crush you. “….Yes,” you confirmed, your voice barely above a whisper. “But this isn't the right time to discuss it. Aegon, you need to leave!” His expression shifted from shock to something deeper—fear mixed with a desperate need for understanding. “Leave? I can’t just leave without knowing the truth! Three years ago… that night—” he stumbled over his words, his hands clenching into fists, eyes wide with anxiety. “Is she really…? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mama, why is he scared?” Anya asked innocently, her small hand gripping the edge of your dress, sensing the rising tension.
“Aegon,” you urged, feeling panic swell within you. “Please, I promise I’ll explain everything, but not here. She shouldn’t hear this right now.”
But Aegon wasn’t backing down. “I can’t just disappear, not when I might actually have a daughter. What if I never get to know her?”
Your mind raced, torn between the instinct to protect Anya and Aegon's desperate plea for answers. Anya looked up at Aegon, her bright eyes shining with curiosity. “You look like me!” she said, a huge grin spreading across her face. “You have my hair and eyes!”
Aegon knelt down, his expression softening as he glanced at her. “You’re right,” he said, the fear in his voice giving way to wonder. “You’re beautiful, just like your mama.”
A wave of emotions washed over you as you watched them together. The reality of this moment settled heavily in your chest. “Aegon, if you’re going to be in her life you have to do what best for her and right now isn’t the time to put this all on her give me a day or two to talk to her then you guys can meet properly” you say trying to give him something “ Alright he says two days I'll be back “ he says not looking away from your daughters face before trapping her in a hug you can see the tears in his eye as he grabs his cloak and shoes layed about the room so he can go not forgetting to leave you the sack of coin and all the rings on his hands before he leaves before you can protest he speaks “ For anything you and her need I'll be back i promise “ he goes to close the door and leave you before turning back around to speak once more “ Goodbye Anya it was a pleasure to meet “ you can here him holding back tears as he speaks only going when Anya waved him off with a toothy grin and a bye bye “ He was nice mama” Anya says when he’s finally gone you smile at her words coming down to her level to meet her bright lilac orbs “ Yes.. yes he was sweet girl now should we get something to break our fast “ you say reaching out for her little hand.
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gnocchibabie · 3 months
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Desire and Blood (Chapter 3)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)
Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)
Wordcount: 4.7k
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Summary:
Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.
However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?
Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.
A/N: You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist!
If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x
!!! This chapter contains dialogue in High Valyrian, which will be designated by bold and italics...enjoy :)
A week had slipped away since Jaenara and her family had settled into King’s Landing. She found herself passing time by discussing plans for the upcoming coronation with her mother or entertaining little Aegon and Viserys. Occasionally, she rode out on dragonback with Baela and Rhaena, savoring the freedom of the skies above. When she was up amongst the clouds, the princess forgot all about what her life had become down below. Sitting atop Aetherion, it was as if nothing else mattered.
Yet above all, Jaenara found herself occupied with a careful dance of avoidance whenever Aemond Targaryen crossed her path. She had escaped several close calls, ducking into unoccupied rooms whenever she saw the prince at the other side of a hallway. Jaenara had often wondered to herself if she could continue to keep up this game of cat and mouse well into their marriage, but the prospect of having to constantly hide from the man who was to be her husband did sadden her. Ever so slightly. 
Currently, the princess found herself in the castle gardens walking shoulder to shoulder with Helaena. Jaenara had not had as much alone time with her aunt as she would have liked, and was eager to reconnect with the one member of the Targaryen-Hightowers she could actually stand to be around. Helaena seemed to be pleased with the company, though it was difficult for Jaenara to tell at times. Her aunt had always been a somewhat emotionally distant person, even when they were children.
“My mother tells me that the planning for Rhaenyra’s coronation is almost finished?” Helaena inquires.
Jaenara and Jacaerys had both been closely involved with the planning of their mother’s name day ceremony. The preparations had proven to be stressful, even now plaguing the princess’ mind. Temporary discomfort is a small price to pay for mother to sit the Iron Throne - Jaenara had told herself. Though, she could not say she felt the same way about the looming, permanent discomfort she would soon find herself in…
Rhaenyra had even tried to include Aegon in the ceremony planning as well. An offering for the position he had given up for his older sister. Though he had seemed less than interested, opting to disappear for hours at a time instead. Even now, Jaenara wondered where her uncle often took off to, leaving her sweet aunt and their children alone. She questioned if she would be condemned to such a fate as well - Aemond fluttering about doing gods know what while she was left to care for their babes alone. The princess decides it is best not to mull over such depressing possibilities that she may soon enough find herself in.
“Yes, her name day will be here before we know it - just a short week away. Though I find myself anxious about the festivities.” Jaenara finally responds. 
“I understand,” Helena breathes, “I am not one for crowds either.”
“Well then we must stick together until the whole ordeal is over.” Jaenara reassures her aunt. And herself.
“I would gladly,” Helaena giggles, “Though when your wedding day arrives, my brother will stand at your side, not I."
Jaenara sighed - another formality she had been dreading heavily. She’d venture to guess that the moment her mother’s name day passes, planning for the wedding will begin immediately. The princess knew that her scarcity of interactions with Aemond would not last for much longer. Not if either of their mothers could help it. 
Jaenara felt she had little to discuss with her betrothed. What else was there to say?
Helaena came to a halt, bending down to pick up a large, green beetle. Jaenara winced - she had never been one for bugs, save for the pretty butterflies she had often chased with her aunt in their youth. She watched as the beetle began to travel up Helaena’s arm. Jaenara found that Helaena looked serene, her blonde-white hair picked up by the breeze and a content smile on her lips. The princess decides to take advantage of the peaceful moment to ask her aunt a troubled question.
“What is it like? Being married, that is.” Jaenara’s face grows serious.
Helaena removes the beetle from her forearm with a gentle touch and places it on a leaf below.
“It doesn’t really feel like anything,” She says, though her aunt does not sound particularly bothered by the dreary thought, “Aegon does not pay me much mind. Save for the times we have…done our duty.”
Jaenara clears her throat awkwardly.
“So, I suppose it is not so bad. I am free to do as I please. As he is. Though I think Aemond will make a better lover.” Helaena finishes. Jaenara looks at her aunt as if she has three heads and scoffs. She looks back at the princess with a coy look on her face.
“What a terrifying thought.” Jaenara sounds defeated as the two women resume their walk. A calm silence passes over them once again, as does the gentle breeze.  
Helaena looks as though someone is speaking to her and finds herself gazing up at the sky for a moment - and then to her niece.
She smiles, as if the clouds have told her a secret.
— — —
On the far side of the Red Keep, The One Eyed Prince begins to lay the groundwork of his plan to put his soon-to-be wife on the Iron Throne. Aemond has decided he must get in the good graces of his family - especially Jacaerys - if he is to carry out familicide without raising any suspicion that he had a hand in it. Something easier said than done, Aemond knows. Any amount of decency he could afford the heir and his brother would be met with scrutiny. A few kind words will not undo years of victimization dealt on both sides. 
Aemond clenches his jaw as he searches for his nephews throughout the grounds of the Red Keep. Locating them had proven to be challenging, though not as much as finding their sister. Aemond knew that Jaenara had been purposefully avoiding him. One evening, he had even caught sight of her ducking into her mother’s chambers when he had turned a corner, entering the same hallway as her. Her elusion frustrated the prince. If he could not speak to the princess and build up a rapport with her, then she would assuredly be the first to point her finger at him when news of Jace’s murder came about.  
Just when Aemond is about to give up entirely, he spots Jacaerys and Lucerys in the training yard, wooden swords in hand. Aemond lurks back for a moment, watching them practice their drills. Their moves are quick and calculated, proving that his nephews had become even more skilled fighters during their time away from the Red Keep. Though their moves had a certain unrefined quality to them. Aemond finally moves from his spot, drawing nearer to the princes. Lucerys spots him first and mumbles a curse under his breath, as hid older brother turns to meet Aemond’s eyes. Aemond smirks at the boys, and he can tell it takes all of Jace’s strength not to throw down his play sword and saunter off. 
The prince stands tall over his nephews, to hide the uneasiness he feels about approaching them. He’s pulled his long, sleek hair into a bun. His own sword, a practice blade worn smooth from countless hours of swinging, hung loose at his side
The air is tense around the group and a short silence hangs over them. Clanking of wood and metal and grunts fills the yard as the princes all stare at each other.
Aemond finally clears his throat and breaks the quiet.
"You're both too cautious," he remarks in a voice that carries authority but also a hint of patience. "Don't overthink your strikes. Let them flow naturally. It's about instinct as much as it is about technique."
Jacaerys narrowed his eyes skeptically. "You must think of us as fools, uncle. Why would we listen to you? You do not practice the habit of fighting honorably - Luke and I’ve both seen that.”
And what would you know about fighting honorably? Aemond remarks to himself.
Where is the honor in gouging out a boy’s eye? 
He inhales a deep breath to calm his rising frustration.
Lucerys, ever the more reserved of the two, held his ground but watched Aemond with a cautious curiosity.
Aemond knows he should not make the jest, but before he can stop himself, the words fall from his smug mouth.
“Fools? No - I only see two Strong boys before me.” 
Both of the brother’s harden their gaze. This time, Jacaerys does take off, with Luke trailing behind.
Fuck.
“But!” Aemond is quick to add to his lecture, desperate to keep the boys where they are, “Honor in battle is not always as straightforward as the songs would have it. There are times when survival demands unconventional measures.”
“And how,” Jace has stopped and turned to face his uncle once more, “would you know anything of a real battle?”
“You forget I train with Ser Criston Cole.” “You forget we trained with Daemon Targaryen.”
Aemond chooses to bite back another remark about how - despite training with one of the realm’s most formidable soldiers, the brother’s still lacked the necessary knowledge and skills.
Instead, he walks back towards their place in the yard and motions for the Velaryons to follow him. Jace stares at him a moment, lets out an exaggerated huff and mutters, “Come on, Luke.”
At their return, Aemond demonstrates a quick feint, his movements precise. “You’re signaling your intent with your movements, Jacaerys. And Lucerys, you hesitate before every strike. Be bold, but calculated. Like this," he continued, demonstrating a fluid series of strikes and blocks. Luke, with a touch of reservation, takes up a fighting stance in front of his older brother.
Aemond nodded approvingly. "Let's try it again. And this time, don't hold back."
For the remainder of the afternoon, Aemond guided them through drills and techniques, offering pointers in between bouts. Slowly, the initial wariness between the boys and the Targaryen prince faded, replaced by a grudging respect for his skill and knowledge.
When the sun had begun to dip into the horizon, the three young heirs sheathed their swords. Aemond found a rare smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. He did not find any joy in the times he sparred with Aegon, which had been few and far between lately. His brother had no real interest in learning and bettering his skills. And Criston Cole was becoming predictable - through no fault of his own. Aemond simply had no one else to spar with that was anywhere near his level. He found unexpected fulfillment in teaching his nephews.
Jace finally deposits his wooden sword with the others in the training yard, Luke following suit. 
With a huff and an expression that makes the prince seem physically pained he tells his uncle, “Well. That was rather…I did not think I’d ever see the day where you would give us any kind of genuine advice. Nevertheless, I am…grateful for your counsel uncle.” 
“Yes. Thank you, Aemond.” Lucerys adds curtly.
Aemond gives them a nod as acknowledgment.
Naive fools.
With that, Jace and Luke begin their journey back into the Red Keep. Aemond watches the boys stride away side by side. He almost resigns himself to turning in for the day, when a thought suddenly enters his mind. 
“Do you know where I might find your sister?” He calls after them. 
Jace remains silent continuing his walk. Aemond rolls his eyes.
She has sworn them to secrecy.
Lucerys seems to take some sort of pity on his uncle after their shared afternoon - much to the dismay of Jace, “I think she spoke of spending time in the gardens…” the younger brother’s sentence trails off when he sees the look Jacaerys gives him. 
Aemond nods gratefully, though no one sees it, and sets off towards the gardens, his mind already racing. He knew spending time with Jaenara was another crucial part of his plan he needed to begin sowing the seeds for. As much as she may detest it.
The believed that if he could convincingly pretend to be infatuated with his niece, to the extent that she truly believed his feelings were genuine, it might help divert suspicion away from him regarding her brother’s eventual murder. She may even come to defend him, when the time comes. Though this would prove to be a challenge.
“You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love” Aemond’s own words from her first evening back at King’s Landing echoed in his mind.
Aemond lets out a frustrated groan and picks up his pace.
When he reaches the gardens, Aemond finds Jaenara and his sister seated on a weathered stone bench in deep discourse, while their ladies-in-waiting linger nearby, amusing themselves.
The distant laughter of the two maidens surprises Aemond and stirs a hint of a smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time his sister had laughed so freely. It was then, he realized, he had never heard Jaenara genuinely laugh. Everything she let out in his presence was nothing more that a scoff or dry laugh. This, he thought, was a nice change of pace. Happiness suited her.
I should leave them. Aemond’s resolve falters for a moment, and he pivots for a swift and silent retreat. Yet, his sister catches sight of him before he can vanish.
"Aemond!" Helaena's voice rings out, compelling him to sigh and reluctantly turn back to face them.
Helaena's eyes glint with mischief as she waves a hand, beckoning him over. Meanwhile, the fleeting smile on Jaenara's face vanishes, replaced by an indifferent gaze.
"Aemond," his sister greets again, her tone laced with curiosity. "Where have you been?"
"Just sparring with your brothers," Aemond replies, his gaze drifting towards Jaenara.
The surprise in Jaenara's eyes is evident and impossible to conceal.
"With Jace and Luke?" she questions, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You seem…unscathed. I trust the same can be said for my brothers?"
"It was just a training session - nothing if not civil. I only meant to give them a bit of advice," Aemond responds, a smirk playing upon his lips.
Helaena suddenly springs to her feet. "I don’t believe you two have had many opportunities to speak as of late. I will leave you to catch up" she suggests, a faraway look on her face. "I must attend to the children." Her lady-in-waiting follows closely behind as she departs.
Jaenara starts to rise, offering to assist, but Helaena insists she stay. Aemond can't help but conceal his amusement at Jaenara’s desperate state.
The princess exhales sharply and resumes her promenade through the gardens, without so much as a glance over her shoulder at Aemond. With a huff, he follows behind her, as her lady-in-waiting mirrors.
The prince wishes he could dismiss the attendant, wishing for a moment alone with Jaenara to speak without restraint. 
He thinks of another solution.
Aemond peers down at his niece and lets High Valyrian fall freely from his lips.
“You have been avoiding me.” 
Jaenara does not remove her eyes from the path in front of her.
“You have not sought me out.” She retorts, her tone cool and collected. Aemond lights up. He had not expected his niece to be fluent in their mother tongue, and hearing her voice enunciate the ancient words caused something unknown inside of him to stir. 
“I am now,” he replies evenly, “ And I have to say, I had not expected you to be so fluent in Valyrian. Not even my brother speaks it so well. That idiot can barely piece together a single sentence.” 
Jaenara laughs, “I am a Targaryen. Every Targaryen should speak their language. Understand their history.”
Aemond nods, “Something we can agree on, niece. Though I have to say, you speak it better than I thought a-”
“Then a bastard would?” Her words are laced with a bittersweet acknowledgment that catches Aemond off guard. His niece had never spoken the truth of her parentage in front of him - or anyone for that matter. In truth, Aemond found him unsettled from her acquiescence. Though he understood the only reason she dared to acknowledge the truth now, is because no one around them had a clue what she was saying. 
“You’re not laughing, uncle. Very unlike you - you who never passes up an opportunity to remind me of my blood.” Jaenara still seemed unfazed, her attention drifting to a cluster of blue irises at their feet. She bends gracefully to touch the silky petals, and Aemond finds himself captivated by the way her dark hair spills like a cascade of black silk over the blossoms. He clears his throat.
“You are to be my…ābrazȳrys (wife). I no longer wish to humiliate you over things out of your control, such as your parentage.” Aemond’s voice is steady and controlled, betraying his inner turmoil over making such remarks.
Jaenara lets out a laugh, though it sounds hollow. Much unlike the laughter she had shared with his sister. Her lady-in-waiting shifts uncomfortably behind them. “Actions speak louder than words, Aemond.” The princess rises from her spot amongst the flowers, turning to face her betrothed.
Aemond is filled with a stubborn determination at hearing her challenge, and takes a few steps towards her - until he can feel his niece’s breath fan over him. He stares down at her, and finds that he enjoys how she does not shrink under his gaze.
“Pār nyke jāhor gaomagon.” - Then I will act.
Jaenara laughs again, but it is quickly put to an end.
“I do not know why you laugh, Jaenara. I am being sincere.” His gaze is hard. 
She considers his words for a moment, and turns back to the garden path. The princess returns to the common tongue. 
"Come along, it is growing darker," Jaenara says, her voice carrying a hint of finality as she resumes their journey along the garden path. Aemond follows silently, his mind still processing the weight of their conversation. The sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the estate grounds, while a cool evening breeze stirs the leaves of ancient trees. When the couple finally reach the stone archways and paths of the Red Keep, Aemond speaks up once more. 
“You will have breakfast with me. Tomorrow” It is not a question, though his tone remains soft..
“I will?” Jaenara asks, an eyebrow raised in defiance.
“This is me taking action.” He offers her a wry smile.
Jaenara exhales and looks to her handmaiden, who skillfully avoids her gaze. “Fine. I will see you in the morning” She stomps off to her chambers, lady-in-waiting trailing behind. The princess does not get to see the small, honest smile that settles on Aemond’s lips. 
— — —
Early the next morning, Jaenara awakes to a polite knock on her chamber door. Alora, her lady-in-waiting, entered cautiously, offering a sheepish greeting. "Good morning, Your Grace."
The princess rubbed her eyes wearily and yawned. "Good morning, Alora. And please, call me Jaenara when it is just us. No need for formality in the privacy of these chambers." she replied with a tired attempt at a smile.
"Oh! Yes, my lady—I mean, Jaenara," Alora stumbled over her words, feeling conflicted over addressing a princess so casually. "Um... Aemond - the prince - sent me to assist you with dressing. He wishes to have breakfast with you?" She sounds uncertain.
Jaenara sighed lightly and pushed herself to her feet. "Very well. Let's not keep him waiting," she said, giving Alora a reassuring glance.
Alora deftly combs out Jaenara's long, ebony hair, swiftly braiding half of it and letting the rest fall down her back. As the princess gradually awakened, she engaged in light conversation with the younger girl, easing her nerves. 
With gentle assistance, Alora helped Jaenara into a splendid dress—its upper half a deep shade of black, its lower half a rich crimson. The sleeves were wrought with golden embroidery. Once satisfied with her handiwork, Alora guided Jaenara to the dining room, where Aemond awaited their arrival.
“Thank you, Alora. I think that will be all for now.” The princess smiles at her lady, dismissing her. Jaenara hesitantly pulls out a chair across from Aemond.
“Good morning.” She offers. An honest attempt at niceties. 
Aemond hums, sounding pleased. “Good morning.”
It remains quiet for a while, as the two begin to serve themselves and take a few bites of the breakfast that has been prepared. The prince steals glances at his niece, observing how her dark curls frame her face. Watching her spoon her food gracefully. Noting how her dress clings to her.
At last, Aemond ventured to break the quiet. “That dress suits you well.”
The princess pauses her cutting of a sausage. Jaenara had not expected to hear that kind of comment so early in the morning. And no less from Aemond of all people. She narrows her eyes at him.
“What?” She asks, as if offended.
Aemond pauses, mid-bite. “I only meant it as a compliment. The Targaryen colors agree with you.” 
Jaenara continues with her meal, deciding that pretending as though she had not heard her uncle was the best course of action.
Why did he say that? Does he mean to mock me?
The prince breaks the silence once more, wanting to change the subject. "I hear your mother's name day preparations have been finalized."
Jaenara swallows a mouthful of food and clears her throat. “Um…yes. I believe so. Everything should be in place by now. The ceremony will be in…five days? I believe.”
"My mother seems unusually eager for the occasion," Aemond remarked. "She and Rhaenyra have been quite chatty lately."
“You’ve noticed too?”
“It is hard not to.” Aemond admitted.
Jaenara shrugs, “True enough. Well, they seem happier anyway.”
Aemond only hums in agreement. “My mother, although…she seems to be even more excited about the wedding than the coronation ceremony.”
Jaenara sputtered on the ale served alongside their meal.
A smug grin spread across the prince's face.
“Oh? Is that so?” She asks as nonchalantly as she can. 
“Oh yes,” Aemond sounds amused, “I hear her and Rhaenyra have taken to planning a few things.”
"What!?" Now Jaenara could not hide her surprise. Her outburst drew the attention of nearby servants, and Aemond grinned at her fluttering.
“Um - I only meant. I had not known they were already planning the ceremony.” She finished, dabbing a napkin to the corners of her mouth.
“Well someone has to. We certainly have not spoken about it.” Aemond remarks.
Jaenara almost feels guilty. She searches Aemond’s eyes for any indication of regret or sadness over their lack of time together. 
“Well then…what would you like to discuss about it?” The princess makes an attempt to turn to the matter.
Aemond considers the question. “What kind of cake would you like?”
Jaenara lets out a true laugh at that, catching Aemond off guard.
“If I must tell you,” She says while catching her breath, “I am fond of lemon pastries.”
Aemond makes a noise of agreement. He recalls that her mother favors the sweets as well. “Then we shall have them.”
Jaenara looks up from her meal and the couple lock eyes. She stares intently into his, trying to decipher his unreadable expression. 
What are you doing, uncle? She is left to wonder. Jaenara feels a crack begin to form in the walls she had put up to keep Aemond out. But the fracture is filled as quickly as it appears when she considers that Aemond is simply playing his part. Putting up a charade. The princess looks at the man before her, and can only seem to remember the cruelties that he has dealt. Her heart hardens.
"Why do you care?" she questioned, her tone accusatory. Despite their heartfelt conversation in the garden the day before, Jaenara only continued in her struggle to believe in her uncle's sincerity.
“Because I want to care.” Aemond is taken aback, though he makes an effort to sound earnest.
The princess scoffs and takes a swig of ale. She rises to her feet.
“I am full.” she declares, signaling an end to the meal and perhaps to their conversation. Jaenara stands and walks the length of the table, drawing near to the door but coming close to Aemond.
That strikes a chord within the prince, “You are about as stubborn as a damn mule,” he mutters under his breath.
The retort is not lost upon the princess’ ears. Jaenara spun around abruptly, facing her uncle where he was currently still seated. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed incredulously.
"Damn it," Aemond whispered to himself, closing his eyes briefly. 
“And here I thought you were being truthful yesterday when you said you no longer meant to belittle me.” She bites.
Some unseen force compelled Aemond onward. He reached out and gently but firmly grasped his niece's wrist.
"I only meant..." He struggled to find the right words. "Gods, you're infuriating."
Jaenara felt a stirring within her at his touch, but she pushed the sensation aside, focusing instead on his words. "I’m infuriating?" 
Now, Aemond raises his voice. “Yes! Infuriating. I am making a sincere effort to get to know you, and I am met with nothing but resistance. There is nothing we can do to change the marriage we will soon find ourselves in,” He rises from his chair, hand still gripped around Jaenara, “but I am making a sincere attempt to make it more bearable. For you.”
A part of Aemond understood that his words were primarily to uphold a facade, to maintain the illusion of feigned interest in his niece. Yet another part of him recognized sincerity in his sentiments. He couldn't help but feel pity for Jaenara. This thought had crossed his mind repeatedly—in the quiet of his chambers, in the stillness of the night, and even yesterday as he watched her depart from the estate gardens. She had undoubtedly drawn the short straw amidst their betrothal.
Jaenara Velaryon was being forced to marry Aemond, a scarred and flawed second son by his own reckoning. While Aemond had initially perceived the proposal of marriage to his own bastard niece as an insult, he couldn't deny the faint attraction he harbored towards her— a sentiment he was certain she did not reciprocate. 
The princess regarded her uncle with a peculiar mix of curiosity and contemplation, allowing his words to sink in. Jaenara's relationship with her uncle had always been incredibly strained — tense. Yet, as she observed the furrow in his brow and the genuine anguish in his eyes, she sensed a truth in his earnest plea. She reflected on her initial hopes—that they might spend their lives avoiding each other, barely exchanging words. Yet, standing before him now, she reconsidered. If Aemond—of all people—could muster some semblance of kindness, however feigned, Jaenara resolved she could reciprocate. Even if it was nothing but a lie. 
For in the convoluted dance of courtly alliances and familial expectations, sometimes even the semblance of civility could hold more weight than honesty in securing fragile peace.
With hesitant resolve, she reached out, gently clasping his hand in hers. Aemond feels goosebumps form on his skin from the additional contact. 
"Aemond," she began quietly, meeting his gaze squarely. He makes an effort to memorize how his name sounds on her lips.
Gods be damned, he thought. 
"I apologize. I hadn't fully appreciated your efforts. You are right. For this marriage to have any chance of contentment and peace, we must find common ground. We must make an effort to get to know each other."
The princess finished her apology, her words hanging in the air between them. All Aemond could manage in response was a silent nod, fearing that his mouth would betray him if he were to open it.
Jaenara withdrew her hand from his with a slight hesitation. "Well…I should be going. I intend to meet with my mother to discuss our impending wedding. There is much to plan," she added, her voice faltering slightly as she hurried out of the room.
Aemond stood there, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He glanced down at the hand that had briefly held his niece's, flexing his fingers thoughtfully, a mixture of uncertainty and determination swirling within him.
A/N: As you may have noticed, this chapter is structured a little differently! I decided to make these changes for narrative purposes/so everything flows better. Because of this, I will be revising the previous two chapters, so the next chapter may take a little longer to come out (I also have a job interview coming up, so I will be doing a lot more than just brainstorming and writing now T-T) Anyways! As always, thank you for reading :)
Tags: @toodlesxcuddles
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