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aemysbabyofficial · 1 year ago

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Sweet Favor; Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!OC

O, young Lucerys. So young and naive ventured down journeys and halls that never called his name.

Warnings: descriptions of sex; targcest; p in v sex; implied rough sex; description of nude bodies; dirty talk; swearing; description of sex

MDNI

Lucerys Velaryon had a favor for someone. It was something special yet difficult. It required the utmost levels of precision. Not everyone was fit for the challenge. Not his brothers, no. They would mess up before he even asked them. Lucerys kicked the dirt off his boots before commencing his search inside the castle.

No, this favor required the skills of one special kind of person. Someone he knew he could trust. Someone that always had his back, even in the darkest of nights. This person knew all the ins and outs and was secretive with it. This person was also everyone's favorite, so there was chance his favor could take time. The right wink was needed for the right flush of the cheeks.

"Saela?"

Lucerys noticed the odd shift in Daemon's shoulders when he spoke his cousin’s name. His head of brown curls poked into the quiet room and his voice echoed against the high walls. Out of everyone, Daemon would know where his favorite daughter was.

"Haven't seen her since the morning. Is she not riding with her sisters?"

Lucerys shook his head. Hope had crested off the cliff's edge into the frigid blue depths.

After breaking their fast, Baela and Rhaena took off on their dragons with Jacaerys and hadn't yet returned. From a passing handmaid, Lucerys heard that Saela wasn't feeling well and excused herself from the table to rest in the library, leaving she, Lucerys, and King Viserys' children inside.

Currently, from the other rooms and halls he poked his head into, Helaena was outside digging through the gardens. (She muttered prophecies that scared Lucerys away from even asking her a question.) Aegon hadn't shown his face since dinner two nights ago--there was no question where he was nor what he was doing. Aemond was squaring off with Ser Criston Cole a while ago, and his presence didn't bother the boy prince at all.

"You need her for something?" Daemon craned his neck. Lucerys shook his head and bid the prince farewell before he could spill his favor.

Where the Heart of the House had disappeared flew over the prince’s head. This is her home. Lucerys was forced to remember after he turned every corner that he was only a guest at his cousin’s home. Saela knew the Keep better than anyone. The layout was stamped to her mind hotter and fresher than anyone. It was because of that Lucerys bore jealousy for her impeccable memory. With all the years they spent apart and she was forced to roam these cold walls, it came to no surprise that Saela knew the best places to hide.

Midday at the Red Keep saw few to no people in the halls. As it was a bright day outside and peace had touched the land, rather than waste the odd day, all the nobles either roamed the town or returned to their homelands. No one knew how long sunny symphony would sing its strings in King’s Landing. This quiet gave Lucerys permission to roam hallways, secret paths, and passages he would never once do.

It was a shame Saela wasn’t with him to be his guide and Jace was missing the greatest action, but adventures by himself built up his small strength for greater feats.

A hall he had never seen before, or maybe, hadn’t remembered from his time away stood to his right. Lucerys looked to his left and right. He stood far from anyone’s bedchambers or busy hallways. It was empty, this hall. No guard stood posted outside a door nor did a handmaid walk by.

A heavy ball dropped in the young prince’s gut when he stepped foot into the hall. It felt like he entered a new world. Candles lighting the paths were blown off and an rogue breeze brushed his hair sideways. An open door?

The sounds of children laughing and light voices trailed from an open door out of Lucerys reached. To not startle anyone or expose his position, the boy craned his eyes just far enough to see the awkward skirt of a handmaid and wooden toys for children.

“A nursery…” Lucerys whispered. Jaehaera, Maelor, and Jaehaerys must be playing inside.

An open window allowed for the ocean breeze to pave its way. A young child--Lucerys' could not figure the age for the life of him--ran to the far corners of the room to an older woman. A wetnurse rocked on a chair while two other handmaids, who managed spoke better High Valyrian he expected, sang two the children. Across the floor were various clothing items and hoods detailed with colored ribbon. The lure of young ones laughing and running with glee reminded the Lucerys of his youngest siblings. A mixture of High Valyrian and Common Tongue fell from the children’s tongues as they sang.

A part of him wanted to join them in the large room and learn from their language books. It was funny to think that he was jealous they could speak his mother tongue better than him, but doing so would distract him from his mission.

He needed to find his favorite cousin now.

Lucerys ran past the nursery with light steps. The prince pushed past the door at the end of the hallway and came face to face with a storage.

Another dead end.

Magic must have stolen Saela away because she was nowhere to be found. Lucerys kicked a hanging rug behind him, which just rained a shower of dust on him.

"Gods..."

A breathy voice trailed its way to Lucerys' ears. As the last syllable burned his flesh, the skin of his ears blushed a flaming pink. His head whipped in all directions around the storage. He was alone, was he not? Who could be making such a devilish sound?

A mix of muffled and hushed voices spoke to the boy’s confused mind behind a door hidden behind the fallen rug. With careful steps, he crept closer and closer to a spare room.

“N-no worries. ‘tis quiet now, right?” the airy voice spoke again, warring on a thin line between pain and pleased. Was the voice talking about him?

Lucerys furrowed his brows.

What his cousin was doing in such an abandoned place made no sense, but the surprise he would give her would ultimately reveal the truth. Out of the three, Saela was the easiest to give up. Baela would resist with arms of steel and Rhaena would somehow evade his unique questioning, but Saela? If he needed anyone to cover his messes, wanted to know a little secret, or needed a little favour, Saela was the perfect girl to give into little Lucerys.

The smile on his face tugged his lips upwards when he rested a hand on the door. Whoever closed it was confident no one would pass the hall because it was unlocked. Nothing stopped Lucerys from barging in. Nothing stopped him from lightly pushing the door with his fingers. Nothing stopped him from bribing Saela.

"Oh gods, right there! Don't stop, please!"

The loud voice froze the boy's smile. Lucerys' stilled so much he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. But past the deep thumping of his heart and blood rushing through his veins were the moans from his dear cousin. The giggles he loved to hear after making her laugh were interlaced with breathy groans and pleads for whatever to go faster. The quiet of the hallway made everything behind the door much louder.

What he saw made his stomach turn.

Atop a simple bed were two bodies tangled together in a mess of clothes and limbs. The skirt of Saela's skirt was bunched at her waist while one of her legs were strung over Aemond's shoulder. Her breasts spilled from the neckline of her dress and both their hands, in the mix of haggard hair, groped each other’s skin.

Aemond’s hands trailed up from her waist to her neck while Saela interlaced their free hands together. The vicious slap Aemond’s hips made every time he thrusted into her Saela made Lucerys sick.

But what shocked him most was what Saela was saying.

"Right there, fuck, ugh right there! Don', uh, don't stop."

Her full, round lips would once sing him imaginary songs to sleep and whisper him funny stories she thought up in the Godswood. Now, in the cramped space, with her legs spread open to Aemond, filth dripped from her tongue every passing second.

“Aem-ugh, right there! Fuck me harder!”

"You like it rough, huh?" Aemond groaned into her neck.

"Fuck this cunt like you mean it! Oh, gods, yes!"

Saela screamed as her back arched. Her eyes shut closed. Lucerys watched pain and pleasure wash over her face. A head of silver locks covered her top half as Aemond sucked her breasts. His tongue swirled over her nipples, tugging and toying with the buds as his hips thrust into her. Her moans sharpened when he bit her flesh, the sight of red not bothering anybody.

Aemond had rid himself of his trousers and boots, leaving him a heaving statue dressed in a cotton shirt. Contorts of his muscled back flexed with every move he made. When he reached a hand under Saela's skirt, the muscles in his arms tensed as Saela shook even more.

“Gods be good, Saela.” Mutters of Lucerys’ cousin fell from Aemond’s lips. It was like he worshipped her in the cramped space. Her moans and pleads were a chorals song to Aemond’s prayers that were fulfilled every second.

"No, no, 'tis too much!" Ragged breaths fell from Saela's open mouth.

No. No! Lucerys covered his ears and stepped back from the door. What we doing here? He shouldn’t be here? The prince froze in place, unable to move or block out the lewd sounds. His mother always said she would teach him about manhood—what it meant to love a woman, fight for her honor, and eventually take her maiden head. But here in this cramped space, Rhaenyra was already beaten.

I can’t look away, the boy’s brain honed his eyes to the sweaty fucking before him.

Lucerys couldn’t look away from Saela’s bouncing breast, her nipples shinning with Aemond’s spit.

Lucery couldn’t look away from Aemond’s dick vanishing into her hole, already coated in juices.

Lucerys couldn’t look away from Aemond nuzzling his face into Saela’s neck, whispering sweet whispers and pressing kisses to her skin.

No, I can’t look away. Lucerys’ body was hot. I am a grown boy bound to learn love sooner or later. Something in him throbbed, he didn’t know what, but it made his body blush.

"Give me a babe, Aemond. I want to be full of your seed."

Babe? Lucerys couldn’t believe his burned ears.

“You want to be full of me, again?” Aemond breathed against Saela’s neck. The whisper was loud enough for Lucerys to hear over the loud sex. “You want to parade yourself around as my little whore again?”

“Fuck what the lot think. All I want is my cunt to be filled with you.” The hooded stare Saela gave Aemond would have any man melting at the knees, but the prince hovered over her like a god unfazed. No, he wasn’t unfazed, his desire peaked to higher levels. Whatever throbbed in Lucerys moved to his heart and mind. Who was this woman that wore his cousin’s face?

“No one satisfies me the way you do,” the prince’s voice became airy. “No one fucks the way you do, sweet talks them into anything. No one loves the way you do.”

Aemond showed the fury of a swordsman in that small room. His voice growled against her cheek. His balls ached with release each time they slapped into Saela’s wet entrance. Juices leaked from them both, coating their thighs in slick layers Lucerys couldn’t imagine. “I will give you whatever you wish for in this cursed place. As long as you stay with me.”

“Forever and ever, love.” Saela’s voice was soft even if her face contorted in pain. In just saying those four words, the couple lost themselves to each other.

A mixture of a laugh and moan fell from Saela’s mouth when the hand fisting her hair tightened its hold. Aemond’s other hand sunk into the softness of her thigh and kneaded the skin without mercy. What Lucerys half-understood as Valyrian curses erupted from Aemond when he dug himself deep into Saela.

One. Two. Three. Four.

One at a time, Lucerys watched Aemond “shoot his load,” as Aegon whispered into his ear in passing. His ears burned with the hot hiss from his uncle, and they bled every time Aemond cursed just steps away from him.

A drunk smile spread on Saela's lips as her back arched again. Her eyes clenched close as a searing pain shot up her thigh. The grip Aemond hand on her forced her body closer to his. Their bodies stuck to each other from the sweat and desires they oozed. She trembled with ecstasy while Aemond's hot breath fanned her equally hot skin. His kisses on her neck were wet and his thrusts slowed to a gentle beat. Lucerys could see flames of desire ignite everything around them.

When the moans stopped and the couple peeled themselves from each other, the boy finally snapped back into reality. His body stumbled against the cold floor and his chest rose faster the more he recognized shuffling clothes.

Lucerys saw his world go white when the door opened. One minute he was standing, the next, sunlight blinded his eyes.

How did she get up so fast?

With the way Saela screamed, one might imagine a sword was pointed at her throat. Her hands flew to her chest when she saw the wild look in her cousin's eyes. But what was there to hide that the boy hadn't seen? The red of his face and panicked rise of his chest gave it away. He saw.

After the pounding she just received, Lucerys was about to ask if she was okay, but remembering where he was, the boy kept his mouth shut. Speaking warranted him a death sentence. Her hands flew to cover her chest,

"Are you alright, love?"

Saela whipped her head back into the room. Her curls fell over her shoulders, hiding the trail of bites from her chest to her ear. The door behind her closed the door just slightly, hiding Lucerys from both she and Aemond's eyes. Whatever Aemond was doing kept him from the door, saving Lucerys the rest of his life that second.

"Yes, I'm fine. I saw a rat, that's all. " A deep chuckle from the One-Eyed Prince echoed in the room before more shuffling. “A nasty thing one, it scared me.”

Ducking herself back further in the room, Saela whispered something to Aemond, craning her body closer to him. Whatever she whispered made Aemond kiss her and promise "another round" after dinner. This slip of time allowed Lucerys to shuffle himself back to his feet. When the door opened again, another pair of eyes stared down at him.

This is not Saela. Whoever he was looking at wasn't his dear cousin who laughed at anyone's jokes.

The woman half-dressed with red eyes wasn't the sweet lady that cheered him up when Jace won others affection.

The woman who looked like she could kill with her bare hands wasn't his favourite cousin that would sneak down with him and steal lemon cakes and fruit at the hour of the owl.

No, no, the lady in front of him had her legs open to the prince that taunted and mocked his family. This woman accepted the seed of a man who mocked his parentage, called him bastard, and nearly killed him after he claimed another’s dragon.

Aemond claimed Rhaena's dragon yet Saela allows him to do this to her?

This woman called the prince every loving name in the world. She was the lady that wished to have his babes.

"Luke."

The nickname was curt and hard. It was whispered like a needle, pricking his skin without warning. The boy shook his head, unsure if he nodded.

Saela stepped out of the room, her shoulders rolled back and head held up high. The door clicked behind her. Whatever she did in that room, she was used to it. She must always hide and fuck Aemond whenever she wished. Whoever stumbled upon them were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was comfortable with the power she wielded in this situation.

The air around the Velaryon and Targaryen grew thick and heavy, challenging Lucerys to breathe. The stare that was sharp as a sword sliced him up and down, silently checking if he was a threat. Of course he wasn't. This woman wasn't scared of a boy like him.

"I always do favors for you." Saela batted her eyes. In a quick second, she was the girl he ran in the halls with when everyone was asleep. The girl that helped him learn most of the High Valyrian he remembered. Her lips crested into the sweet smile he missed after so long.

"You can do this one for me. Right?”

The magic Lucerys looked for was used on him. It was only Saela Targaryen, amongst anyone in their family, that could use magic that would make any man bend the knee without thought.

#house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon x oc #hotd x oc #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond targaryen angst #house of the dragon smut #aemond targaryen x reader

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vlyrn · 28 days ago

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2025 Pride Series (June 1st-30th)

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Thirty Days of Gay Shit Yay!

Ok! My pride month series is almost here, 30 days of guaranteed gay shit, strap in! Or on!

Originally this was going to be all canon queer characters and then I was confronted with trying to think of a scenario for mostly minor characters who don’t have much character or I just don’t find interesting enough to write a bot for so I ditched that and I’d say this is still somewhat canon queer but… yeh not completely.

The layout of this will pretty much be an even split between wlw, mlm and trans bots.

If you’ve been here a while, especially on tumblr, you might know my relationship with gender is a mess and I will admit that a lot of these are quite personal in relation to me and my experiences with gender as a queer person, I will provide a bit more of an explanation on this on day three.

Finally, any comments relating to trans people and whether it’s ‘realistic’ for game of thrones will be deleted and the account blocked. There are canon trans characters in asoiaf, it might not all look the same as in the real world but also, dragons fucking exist so I’m gonna trans beam Jon Snow at the end of the month, cry about it.

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Day One: Daenerys Targaryen

In a quiet, jasmine-scented night, Daenerys—freed from duty and surrounded by softness—explores the tender possibility of desire and rediscovery with her handmaid, confronting the vulnerability of being seen not as a queen, but as a woman.

Day Two: Jon ‘Griff’ Connington

A hardened soldier confronts a captured pirate whose defiant charm and disarming confidence unsettle him far more than steel ever could, blurring the line between enemy and enigma on a moonlit deck.

Day Three: Catelyn Stark

In the quiet of Winterfell, Catelyn Stark gently affirms her unconditional love and acceptance for her child, who has quietly revealed her true self, offering the warmth, protection, and recognition only a mother can give.

Day Four: Baela Targaryen

Baela confesses her forbidden love to Jace’s twin sister, risking everything in a moment of aching vulnerability before duty tears them apart.

Day Five: Aegon II Targaryen

In a haze of opulence and ennui, Prince Aegon’s jaded gaze is shattered by an unexpected, magnetic encounter with a beautiful man—awakening a hunger he neither expected nor understands.

Day Six: Eddard ‘Ned’ Stark

Ned Stark, burdened by fatherly concern and long-silenced instincts, discovers his child’s hidden truth—and, in a moment of raw vulnerability and love, affirms her identity with unconditional acceptance.

Day Seven: Arianne Martell

In the golden stillness of a desert afternoon, Arianne Martell, once guarded and proud, confesses her love and desperate longing for the visiting princess—her political rival turned soulmate—begging her to choose their shared passion over the ruinous world beyond their bed.

Day Eight: Oberyn Martell

After being bested in the tourney by a mysterious, nameless knight, Prince Oberyn—intrigued, aroused, and unshaken in spirit—seeks a different kind of rematch, one laced with seduction, challenge, and the promise of pleasure over pride.

Day Nine: Rhaenyra Targaryen

In the quiet aftermath of a tense and bitter family feast, Rhaenyra comforts her daughter—wounded by Aegon’s cruel mockery—with fierce maternal love, affirming her identity, dignity, and worth against a world eager to deny them.

Day Ten: Taena Merryweather

In a candlelit bath steeped in rose-scented steam, Taena entwines herself with Lady Hightower in a moment of intimate seduction and whispered political intrigue, savoring their secret bond amid the treacherous games of King’s Landing.

Day Eleven: Maegor I Targaryen

Maegor the Cruel descends upon Oldtown in fury, only to find his heir transformed in a way he deems a betrayal, sparking a storm of wrath that threatens to consume blood, legacy, and city alike.

Day Twelve: Cregan Stark

In the hushed, snowbound courtyard of Winterfell, Lord Cregan Stark greets a long-expected royal emissary—only to find not the princess he’d imagined, but a striking, storm-eyed prince whose presence unsettles Cregan in ways he neither expected nor fully understands.

Day Thirteen: Yara Greyjoy

In a smoky seaside tavern thick with tension and salt, Yara Greyjoy confronts old rival Farman with a drink, a dare, and the kind of sharp, dangerous flirtation that blurs the line between challenge and desire.

Day Fourteen: Renly Baratheon

At a lavish royal feast, Renly Baratheon, ever poised and predatory beneath his charm, becomes instantly captivated by the arrival of Tywin Lannister’s enigmatic and seductive fourth child—an unspoken legend whose presence turns flirtation into a calculated game of power, desire, and dangerous intrigue.

Day Fifteen: Cersei Lannister

Cersei encounters a mysterious lord who awakens a long-buried memory of their childhood, sparking her intrigued and admiring curiosity about the man he has become.

Day Sixteen: Yara Greyjoy

Haunted by her lover’s absence in the dark, Yara finds her on the moonlit deck and, with desire and tenderness, pulls her back into the warmth they share—refusing to spend another moment apart.

Day Seventeen: Satin

In the frozen stillness of the Wall, Satin battles both the biting cold and the quiet ache of longing for his friend, whose closeness offers a warmth deeper than any fire.

Day Eighteen: Theon Greyjoy

In the hush of a hayloft after a night of stolen wine and quiet confessions, Theon sees Robb’s sister not as the boy she pretended to be, but as the vivid, becoming self she is now—and risks everything in a moment that startles them both into the truth of what they want, and what they’re not ready for.

Day Nineteen: Brienne of Tarth

In the quiet warmth of a firelit room, Brienne wrestles with rising feelings that threaten to blur the line between her sworn duty and a longing she can no longer ignore.

Day Twenty: Jaime Lannister

Jaime, restless and aching with unspoken desire, approaches the stoic Northman under cover of night, veiling his longing in teasing words and brittle bravado as he inches toward a truth he both fears and craves.

Day Twenty-One: Robb Stark

Robb trains his younger brother with tenderness and resolve, honoring both his transition and struggle—not to shape who he is, but to affirm the man he’s always been becoming.

Day Twenty-Two: Rhaena Targaryen

In the windswept solitude of Faircastle, Rhaena finds unexpected solace and love in a healer whose gentle strength and quiet magic teach even a dragon to let down her guard.

Day Twenty-Three: Laenor Velaryon

Laenor confronts his lover with raw desperation and heartbreak, pleading for honesty and connection in the wake of growing distance, duty-bound betrayal, and a love strained by silence.

Day Twenty-Four: Daemon Targaryen

Daemon, still seething from battle, fiercely defends his son’s identity and worth against a world that refuses to see him, vowing with fire, fury, and unwavering love to claim his rightful place—no matter the cost.

Day Twenty-Five: Ygritte

Amid the frozen wilds, fierce and teasing Ygritte guides a gentle, unready bard in the art of the bow, their closeness crackling with tension, tenderness, and something dangerously like desire.

Day Twenty-Six: Loras Tyrell

In the golden afterglow of his jousting triumph, Ser Loras offers not just a rose but a quiet, tender vow to the boy who claimed his heart with a single look, binding them in a moment as intimate as it is bold.

Day Twenty-Seven: Daenerys Targaryen

Day Twenty-Eight: Sansa Stark

Day Twenty-Nine: Jacaerys Velaryon

Day Thirty: Jon Snow

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Masterlist

#character ai #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #got #game of thrones #c.ai #c.ai creator #c.ai bot #janitor ai #j.ai #j.ai bot #j.ai creator #c.ai requests #hotd #house of the dragon #fire and blood

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axelsagewrites · 2 years ago

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Daemon Targaryen*Shopping

Sugar Baby Series Part Three

Part one - Part two

Pairings: Daemon x f!reader

Other pairings: reader x platonic Jace/Cregan/Sara/Aly/Aemond, Jace x Sara Snow

Warnings: creepy Aegon, Aemond having bad parents (Aemond redemption arc anyone??), general confrontation, swears, mentions of sex but nothing graphic, innuendos

Word count: 3390

Masterlist Here

“Remind me why we have to go to work when your sugar daddies already paid our bills for the next like six months?” Sara asked after you had both just sprinted to catch the bus.

You rolled your eyes as you stood on the bustling city bus filled with stoners and depressed office workers, “When did it become our money?” you asked. By this point you had gone on several more dates with Daemon. All to fancy restaurants and lunch spots.

He’d also began to send outfits to your house for each, making sure they were sent in discreet packaging still not trusting your neighbours. Gucci belts, Louis Vuitton heels, Chanel dress, Prada bags. Each date got a new outfit, hand picked by a stylist he had hired for you. each date also got an envelope discreetly passed to you as he kissed you goodnight. These goodbye kisses may have started out slow, but one time Sara had genuinely wondered if you were having sex on the doorway with how long it was taking. The best part? You didn’t have to pick up as many shifts so for once you felt you could relax. Sadly though, you still kept working despite it all.

Sara wrapped her arm around yours, partly to try keep steady on the bumpy roads as she held onto a handrail, “I’m your sugar baby now,” she said as she leaned into you making you laugh, “How many dates till you can get a car? Oh! Try get his Benz!” She chirped as an old lady a foot away glared at her. sara just glared back.

You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, “I’ll see what I can do. Still waiting on him texting me the next date,”

“Make it soon,” she groaned. The rest of the bus journey was mostly uneventful apart from the lady sara had developed a silent beef with. Luckily, she got off before you. the restaurant wasn’t supposed to be too busy tonight however that didn’t make it safe from a Targaryen invasion.

Aly smiled unnaturally wide as you and Sara walked in, arms linked laughing. “Hey guys,” she said, drawing out the words with the biggest smile. She may be a server and a host, but she was a horrible liar. “How are you?” she asked.

Your stomach felt hollow as you realised, “Oh god not again,”

Aly told you both how Aegon had practically skipped down a few months ago when he graduated business school and now that Alicent had tracked him down and dragged him back she, her father, husband and eldest son were now due in for dinner to celebrate. “It is so not my turn, nuh uh no way,”

“Don’t worry its Cregan’s turn,” Aly said as she looked over the reservation, “I gave you the good section tonight, remember me when you marry rich,” she said, smiling as she leant on the host stand.

“You bitch,” you said as you smacked Saras arm, “How many people did you tell?”

“Ow!” Sara whined as she hit you back. “It wasn’t me gold digger,” she said as she swapped placed with Aly to take over as host, “Bet you it was Cregan,”

You rolled your eyes when Aly told you that basically everyone knew, “What about Aemond?” you asked as you tied your apron on, “Speaking of where the hell is he?”

“He’s tots freaking out about his mum coming in with Aegon and is going all perfectionist on the layout,” Aly said as she picked up her bags, “Mans been driving me up the wall. But he doesn’t know. we’re not that cruel besides he barely talks to us now,”

How is he not lonely you wondered. Before you could even protest Aly beelined for the door and you heard a loud huff, “No loitering!” Aemond puffed out his chest as he practically dragged you to the server stand, Sara giving a sorry wave as you went, “Everything needs to be perfect today, my mothers been on my case about this place and she needs to see that im still the better son so you better bring you’re a game-“

Wait a minute. “What?” you said as you stopped in the middle of the floor. There were only three tables in right now and four servers, but Aemond still walked right up to you to ask what’s wrong, “I had her last time?”

“And?” he asked, crossing his arms, “Why can’t you serve her this time? she likes you,”

You couldn’t help but snort, “Aem we used to be friends, remember?” you asked, touching his shoulder, “Remember our walk-in conversation?” you asked with raised brows. One-night Aemond practically had a breakdown his first month on the job because his mother had come in and was tormenting the staff all night, “We both know she’s a nightmare,”

“C’mon she’s my mom,” he sighed as he finished dragging you to the host stand, “Do me a favour. Since we used to be friends,” he said, rolling his eyes when he said used to, “Though I thought we still were,” he muttered and for a second you almost felt bad, “Just do your job its not that hard,” then he opened his mouth again.

“Whatevs Aemond,” you said as you logged into the tablet, “Don’t you have a rota to fuck up?” before he could protest a chef came out to drag him into the kitchen to complain about the latest food order. You knew better than to back talk Aemond but the nearly $7 in your cookie tin at home was putting a pep in your step.

Hearing that Alicent liked you was the only thing that worried you. daemon had been in a couple times since your arrangement had started and each time, he gave you a sly smirk or a wink. Whenever there was no Hightower in sight, he would request your section but even still she seemed to be catching on to some kind of tension.

When you arrived at their table to take their order you were met with the confused eyes of Aegon Targaryen, “(Y/N)?” he asked, tilting his head when he saw you before he suddenly stood up, “Long time no see,” he said and before you could say anything or even move he’d wrapped his arms around you for a brief, but very touchy hug. “How’ve you been doll?”

That name was exclusively reserved in your mind for daemon so when Aegon said it you quickly pulled him off of you with a smile, “I’m good Mr Targaryen, can I get you a drink?” you said as you showed him back to his seat. Alicent was muttering something under her breath, eyes glaring daggers into the table, “Can I get you anything ma’am?”

“Water for the table and- “

“Plenty of lemons? Of course, ma’am,” you said, cutting her off and trying not to smirk. No matter what Alicent knew, there was something she did not know. daemon had already given you all the dirt on her. he had told you every crumb of his family drama and for once you felt like you had the upper hand. “Anything for our regulars,” you smiled as you jotted down on your notepad.

Viserys seemed extremely pleased that you had recognised their frequent visits but Alicent and Otto both looked mortified. When it was finally time to take their orders, Otto spoke up first, “I’ll have a medium rare steak with no pink and not burnt either hear me? I swear your kitchen people can’t cook steak to save their life,” he muttered.

Then order something else. You wanted to scream. The whole night went like that. Alicent’s petty requests and Aegon’s creepy stares. Even Aemond had asked if you were okay at one point. You’d snuck off to the kitchen to send a quick rant text to daemon, asking how he could be related to these sorts of people.

Otto had sent back his steak for the third time, everyone else on desert as he waited. “Medium rare no pink,” you said, trying your best to smile as you sat down his impossible order. “Enjoy,”

“Wait,” he said as he picked up his cutlery, “I want to make sure its right before you run off again,” you nodded and waited as he cut into the meat, excruciatingly slow, “Again!” he yelled as he slammed the cutlery down, making even Alicent jump, “Look at all this blood! He said as he picked up the plate only to clatter it back onto the table, “Does that look medium rare to you?” he asked, pointing the steak knife at you.

“Yes,” you said blankly, ignoring the vein that almost bulged out of his forehead, “Do not yell at me sir,”

“Excuse me?” Otto yelled as he stood up, dropping his knife onto the table, “I never- I come here all the time and- Aemond!” he yelled across to the boy who was trying to hide behind a bar tender, “Talk to your staff this is ridiculous,”

Aemond practically ran over as he tried to defuse his grandfather, begging him to sit down at the same time. “She’s sorry, aren’t you?” Aemond asked as he grabbed your arm, looking at you with pleading eyes.

You briefly glanced at Sara who was watching this whole thing from the host stand and Cregan who had just walked in for his shift. You turned back to the group, looking at Alicent first, glancing over to the sulking Viserys and Aegon who had finally grown some humility, then finally the grown man yelling like a child. “I’m sorry you never learned how to order a steak,” you said slowly, ignoring how Aemond tried to pull you away and shaking him off, “Learn how to order a steak and find some manners,”

Before Otto could speak you continued, turning to face Aemond who looked on the brink of tears, “I quit, you can have my tables and as for yous- “you said turning to face the table. Aegon’s jaw went slack as he stared at you in amazement while Viserys looked at his wife, fear radiating off of him. Alicent however looked shocked, angry, and embarrassed all at once, “Have a pleasant fucking day, see ya,”

With that you stormed out to the host stand, not even bothering to clock out or put your tips in the tip out jar and grabbed your jacket from the rack. You glanced back to see Alicent and Otto screaming at Aemond, pointing at you with flailing arms. “I quit,” you told the shocked siblings, “And I think I might have accidentally got Aemond killed. Good luck,”

“You’re my hero,” Cregan said, his eyes wide with awe like a child.

“I’ve never been so proud,” Sara said before glancing back to where Alicent and Otto were now storming over, “but you need to go. Like now. Run if you can,”

You didn’t wait another second before almost running out the restaurant however as you reached the street you felt yourself smack into someone’s chest. “Doll?” a deep voice came from the man. You looked up to see Daemon, still in his work clothes and looking down at you with worry and shock, “Are you okay?”

“We need to go,” you said as you grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the car he had just got out of, “I’ll explain in the car just go, go!” you said as you jumped in the back seat.

“To my house please,” Daemon told his very shocked looking driver, “What happened doll?” he asked as he shut the door.

You looked past him to where a bewildered otto looked around the street shocked, “I think I may have upset your sister-in-law,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I guess you got my text?”

Daemon looked back from otto to you, eyebrows scrunched and jaw hanging open, “I was coming over to yell at them but looks like you beat me to it,”

When you retold your glorious tale to Daemon, he listened in silence like he was reading the tensest book of his life. When you finished your tale, you feared for a moment that he looked almost disappointed in you. then a smirk spread across his face. “I’ve never been prouder of you doll face. Eryk change of plans we need to go dress shopping. Celebrations are in order,”

You had never been shopping with daemon, but you could easily get used to it. he whisked you past all the shops you used to frequent and straight to the nearest boutique. He sat patiently, sipping champagne as a shopping assistant helped you find and try on dresses to show him.

Daemons eyes raked up and down your figure when you stepped out the changing room for the fifth time. Daemon stood up slowly from the chair, stepping towards you and silently taking your hand to slowly spin you around, “Like it?” you giggled as his eyes finally tore away from your figure to your eyes. It was a dark purple, satin evening dress that hugged you perfectly and felt as silky as a waterfall.

“Fucking love, it,” he mumbled as he stepped in closer, placing a soft kiss to your lips, “You’re getting it,”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit much for tonight?” you asked, stepping back with a laugh to look in the mirror. It was beautiful, you had to admit, but you had also seen the price tag.

“We’ll get another for tonight,” Daemon said as he moved back to pour you your own glass of champagne, “and that can be for the gala,”

“The gala?” you asked, finally turning back to him.

Daemon rolled his eyes as he gulped his champagne down, “It’s a family thing,” he drawled as he returned to his chair, “it will be painfully dull im afraid but suppose it will be far more enjoyable with you on my arm,”

Even still after all this time you couldn’t help your flush, “We’ll see,” you grinned as you looked at the dress, “You sure it’s not too expensive?”

“Nothings too much for my princess,” he said before waving down the store woman who was hanging around like a hawk, “Can we see her in that dark red number I saw in the window?”

“Of course, sir, just one moment,”

After another three dresses you had finally settled on one for tonight. It was a silk black dress, simpler than the rest but still to die for. When you told daemon it was the one, he nodded, kissing your cheek before waving the lady back over, “Hi we’ll take this one now along with the dark red, white, and lilac dresses from before. then as for that purple dress do yous do custom sizing?”

“Of course, sir,” the woman said, practically drooling over the commission, “I can measure her right now if you’d like,”

Daemon nodded and the woman quickly fetched the measuring tape, wasting no time in grabbing your arm to start writing the numbers down, “We need it for the sixth, will that work?”

“I’ll have it done by the first,”

when you were stood at the till beside daemon you were almost sick at the prices, “Daemon you really don’t have to,” you said, gently holding his arm as the sale girl glared at you.

“Nonsense,” Daemon said as he kissed the top of your head and swiped his card like it was second nature, “Besides we haven’t even hit the jewellers yet,”

By the time you had left the mall Daemon had spent the equivalent of a small house on your outfit for tonight with a few surprise dresses. Since you still had to get ready, and it was only five daemon was going to drop you at your house before picking you up again at six. “Where do you want to eat tonight darling?” he asked as he held your thigh in the car, his thumb stroking over your skin, “Anywhere you want,”

“Why don’t we eat in?” you offered, trying to think of anyway to save him some money after the massive shopping spree you had just been on.

Daemon looked surprised before quickly nodding, “Its short notice but im sure Olivia will be able to swing bye and rustle us something- “

“I meant like,” you said, cutting him off, “Why don’t I cook for us? It would be cute, just us,” you said, as you nudged his foot with your own, “intimate even,”

“I think I like the sounds of that,” Daemon said lowly through hooded eyes, the sight alone making your heart race. Luckily, or maybe not so lucky, you were just pulling up to your street. daemon glanced out the window, “lets do it at mine though,” he said.

You laughed at his scepticism as you grabbed the bags of dresses, “Whatever makes you happy,”

“That’d be you doll,” he said, letting go of your thigh before quickly stepping out of the car. As you waited for him to open your door, something he had insisted on doing since you started your arrangement, you were able to collect yourself.

Daemon opened the door for you and helped you carry your bags upstairs, even saying hello to Robb as he left the building. You knew sara would be home by now since you knew she only had a short shift today so you wondered how long she would squeal for when she saw the necklace daemon had bought you. when you finally reached your door daemon paused for a moment, “Im afraid I’ve not got any cash love,” he said as he handed you your bags.

You hummed in fake thought, “I suppose I can take a kiss as payment,”

Daemon chuckled as he leaned down, his hand cupping your jaw to bring you in for a brief but intense kiss, “See you in an hour doll,” he mumbled as he broke the kiss.

“Wish it was then,” you said, opening the door and giving him a small smirk as you stepped backwards into the flat, trying your best to seem seductive.

Weird, you thought, sara wasn’t in the living room. You sat the bags down on the couch before walking towards saras room. She can nap later, you thought. “Sara!” you called, hand on her door handle, “You will never believe what Daemon got-JACE WHAT THE FUCK!” you practically screamed as you opened the door.

Jace scrambled so quickly to cover them both that he fell off the bed, dragging the covers with him. You slapped a hand over your eyes as the pair both scrambled to get under the covers. When you finally looked through your fingers, they both looked mortified. “You said you didn’t like him!” you almost yelled at Sara.

“Yeah, well I lied, okay?!” she yelled back.

“Should I go?” Jace asked, reaching for his shirt.

“No,”

“Yes,”

“Dude!” Sara yelled.

“Dude! I need you to help me get ready,” you said, moving to sit on her bed. Sara was unfazed by how close you were, but Jace seemed to clutch the covers tighter, “Also I need to cook for daemon,”

“You’re a terrible cook,”

“Im not that bad,”

“You burnt water,” she said, glaring at you, “Ugh fine I’ll help,” she said as she moved to grab a shirt before turning back to Jace, “This was amazing babe. Just give me half an hour, an hour tops, and I’ll be right back, okay?” she said, kissing him softly making you fake gag.

A love smitten smile fell over Jaces face as he looked at sara who quickly got dressed. “Okay,” he said like he was in a dream before falling back to lay down.

When you walked into the living room with sara you paused for a moment, “If you break his heart- “you began to talk before sara shushed you.

“I do actually like him,” she sighed, “I caught feelings, I know its weird. But he’s so cute,”

“At least I won’t be alone at the gala,” you said making Sara raise an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you all about it while you do my hair,”

Sara sighed as she shoved you down onto the chair, “Why do I have a bad feeling about this gala?”

If you don't want to read smut you can skip the smut part without the series plot being affected

Part four smut edition here

a/n: so this is offically gonna be a 5 part series now. part 4 will be up tommorow then part 5 a couple days after that so dont worry its almost here i swear i promise

Part four non smut here

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @delicious-xx @pet1t3 @skyesayshi @urmomsgirlfriend1 @dark-night-sky-99 @lantsovheiress @themotherofblood @avalyaaa

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morgsdrew · 3 months ago

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LORE DOCS UPDATE !

updates: updated the layout and finally used the right hex code for the texts so now it’s more morgan coloured! / added new tabs like the relationships has two extra small tabs and now timeline + alt universe is under jaceverse tab / fixed the gallery layouting / added a fake comic reading list / CHECK OUT THE LOVE INTEREST TAB, unfinished but i like kon’s part / also updated jaceverse tab and added more info about the characters but so far the finished ones are nathan and kon

ITS STILL UNFINISHED ! midway changing and adding i get bored and distracted so thats why theyre unfinished

#morgan drew #dc oc #dc rp #dc #🛼. headcannons #🦋. steph talks #ooc

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memescomicswriting · 11 months ago

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It's Nice to Have a Friend (Background)

The idea for this story was sparked from the interview Milly Alcock and Emily Carey did on Rhaenyra and Alicent’s young dynamic. As an adolescent growing into your teen years, the relationship with your best friend is so unique. In some ways they hold your world in their hands. You share with them secrets you’d trust to no one else, they’re probably in attendance for some of your most embarrassing moments, they see you in your entirety- good and bad. You want to be around them all the time. You thrive on finding new things to giggle and gossip over. Should they ever want to, they could share these moments and shatter your world. This dynamic follows Y/N and Helaena. Then you toss in the handful of boys consistently present, and you have a pseudo-similar relationship as well. Maybe not as deep, but it’s deeper than that of just a classmate or a friend’s brother who's much older. Proximity has an odd way of binding individuals you may not otherwise have a connection.

This is set in a modern Westeros. Think cannon geographical layout but with cars and cell phones. Governance is democratized. Ruling Houses are now the “old wealth” meaning their wealth is millenia old. Valaryian wealth is the oldest of old money, or if they’re from the free cities (Lys, Meereen, Pentos) then they are considered cultured or exotic as well. Essoss sets much of the beauty and cultural trend. They produce a large amount of luxury goods. Westeros produces the majority of new age commodities. Similar to the Industrial Revolution’s destabilization of high society, in this Westeros some merchant class families gained status by accumulating wealth over the last few centuries. King’s Landing remains the capitol, but now the King’s Woods is full of estates belonging to the previous great houses. It’s THE gated community, country club, rich playground. The University of Westeros, better known as King’s College or Landing’s College is on the opposite end of King’s Landing. It takes well over an hour of traffic to make it from the Woods to King’s College. The Red Keep makes up a large part of the University. The Red Keep is the original King’s College. Additional buildings and the “college town” area make up the broader University.

Ages set at the CHRONOLOGICAL start or when Harwin takes custody of Y/N:

Daeron and Joffrey: 2

Luke: 6

Jace, Aemond, Baela, Rhaena: 10

Y/N and Helaena: 11

Aegon:12

Rhaenyra and Leanor: 34

Harwin and Leana: 36

Alicent: 40

Daemon: 47

Viserys and Rhaenys: 54

Corlys: 56

Otto: 62

This story jumps around quite a bit, so whatever time frame we’re in, do the math.

Series Masterlist

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withered-rose-with-thorns · 1 month ago

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FAVE CREATORS ART CHALLENGE! for @rhaenyradaemons

My precious Julia! You have been such a sweetheart ever since we started talking and have become one of my fave people! You're super kind, cool and have such a warm heart (I was seriously considering moving to France when you offered).You're a real friend and such an inspiration! I am delighted that you asked me to to co-manage a blog with you and look forward to talking to you about whatever.

Jace & Daemon - I love the fact that Harry chose to play Daemon's quirks in his character and I absolutely adore sets that highlight these parallels! I love this set with the concept and the beautiful coloring you did here!

Rhaenyra's Red Dress - I am a huge fan of costume sets cuz I love tiny gifs and creative layouts. This set is so so so pretty! This red you used here looks so freakin good and some of these scenes are so dark I am so amazed at how well you did! I love her red dress and her orangey face!

Daemon & Laena - This set is so simple but I gush everytime I see it! I love how you cropped this scene so it focuses on them moving together and checking each other out and I think the caption is so good!

Halbrand's Armor - Like I said, costume sets are my jam! This set looks so nice! The coloring is light and brown and lovely! I love your focus on all the details!

Baela & Daemon - Another parallel set, this time with Baela! Your editing on these HOTD scenes look incredible honestly. And I enjoy how you slightly made each side have their own main color so you can tell the difference, looks great!

Daenerys & Daemon - You're such a good PS creator. I adore the parallel and the light red coloring so much!

Daemon & Sword - This set is so cool, this scene needed to be giffed like this and it's fantastic!

Viserys & Daemon - This scene is so dark that I would never attempt to gif it, but you did and it looks so gorgeous! The pinkish red looks stunning and fits the tone of this heartwarming scene perfectly!

Jessica Chastain - This set is so well done, the coloring and the sharpening looks sublime!

Arthur Curry - I enjoy your sets of Jason Momoa so much.

#userjulia #ask

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 11 months ago

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Daenyra Targaryen ✤ The Prophecy

Daenyra Targaryen had never wanted to be fostered at Winterfell, although no one had cared for her opinion on the matter. Her grandfather insisted that it was necessary to foster an alliance with House Stark, no further discussion welcome or required. And so Daenyra made her way North, to what would almost be her doom. Within her first moon at Winterfell, an attempt was made on her life, and it was only thanks to Cregan Stark's quick reflexes that Daenyra survived. But it was clear, the North was no safe place for a dragon. After much persuasion, Daenyra secured Cregan's assistance in her own plan, to disappear beyond the wall until they could determine who had paid for her to die. Life beyond the Wall was nothing like Daenyra had expected, changing her in ways that she had never imagined possible. And with those changes came the dreams. A realm at war, dragons fighting dragons, death and destruction until no Targaryens remained. Beyond the Wall, with nothing but ice and a dragon for company, Daenyra began to plan. But in all of her plans, and all of her dreams, there was one thing that she had never seen coming. For Jace Velaryon to visit the Wall and discover that his lost aunt still lived.

Fandom: House Of The Dragon

Face Claim: Anya Taylor Joy

Love Interest: Aegon Targaryen & Jacaerys Valeryon

Theme song: The Prophecy, Taylor Swift

Pinterest: x

Playlist: tbd

( format / layout insp )

Tag List: @airwolf92– want to be added?

#daenyra targaryen #ocappreciation #fyeahhotdocs #fyeahgameofthronesocs #the prophecy #my work #my edits #my moodboards #*intro #house of the dragon oc #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen x oc #jacaerys velaryon x oc

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fromtheboundlesssea · 1 year ago

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HOTD Season 2 Episode 3 Live Watch Thoughts

Still love the opening.

Writing might be crap but the scenery is beautiful.

Idk why I thought the long haired Bracken person was a man. 100% thought it was a woman in the trailer.

Oooooo “babe killer” good. I’m glad that we’re actually hearing “lesser” houses talking about this. And of course the Brackens are going to not go for Rhaenyra considering one of them was killed during her betrothal tour. That of course will not be discussed in the show.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere.

“He is the basest of villains.” Are you going to call out your step dad Jace? At least they went for Rhaenyra and not one of your little brothers.

Otto’s great grandson was brutally murdered. Not everyone is like you Rhaenys. Not everyone is just going to shrug your shoulder and forgive the people who have claimed to kill your son.

Idk. Rhaenys feels like one of the biggest hypocrites.

ALICENT’S GRANDSON WAS MURDERED!

And you spat at Alicent’s generosity Rhaenys. Shut up.

Call her out Rhaenys about blaming Alicent for everything. If you were just a friend to Alicent after her marriage to your father things would have been fine in the show verse!

I feel like this is the episode we’re going to lose Criston’s beautiful hair. But I suppose we will grow used to it.

WHAT ARE THE BALLS AT THE SMALL COUNCIL FOR?!?!?

What is with Jasper’s underhanded comments? Actually add to the conversation or shut up.

Aemond flipping one of the gold coins used to pay Blood and Cheese to kill him between his fingers is fascinating.

*sigh* I still wouldn’t trust Mysaria considering. Just send her away. Especially since she probably helped with the plan for B&C. And I love that Mysaria is acting as though she wasn’t a madam for a brothel that catered to men who liked young girls.

And so is Laenor dead then? Is that what the “lonely” thing is meant to indicate.

Rhaena! My love! AND SHE SPEAKS

Why… why not send Aegon and Viserys with Joffrey? And sending Rhaena away too.

And if she doesn’t want to sacrifice it willingly? And you can tell the distance between the girls and Rhaenyra. They don’t attempt to call her familiarly. She isn’t a maternal figure to them. Rhaena is a motherly and caring figure for the younger children. Her voice does not matter. Seven hells.

Here has to be a smarter way of doing this Daemon, especially when you would be facing people far more familiar with the keep’s layout.

Are we going to meet Alys?

Oooooo~ Bats like for House Whent!

There’s something to be said about Daemon’s armor being clean and without blemish. I know he is a trained warrior, but still.

Why are you going in swords blazing? You could legit just ask? Or do you think they wouldn’t join you willingly?

I guess that’s Alys?

Even Lord Strong is like 🤷🏻‍♀️

Oh right. Larys is technically the lord.

Obviously Larys did burn Harrenhal in the show, but it’s not established in the book right? So I feel like the Larys hate (here for it) IS rooted in ableism.

And ooooo Daemon getting prissy by being called “Prince” instead of “your grace”

Man Harwin got all the good genes huh.

Why was Harrenhal not prepared? Why wasn’t Harrenhal made the epicenter of Westeros? The keep is big enough.

Does Daemon not know who the head of the Riverlands is? Why didn’t he ask for Lord Tully by name?

Lyonel and Larys are really the only politically minded of House Strong huh. Everyone else is 🤷🏻‍♀️

GWAYNE!

Ooooo he would make a decent Tully faceclaim!

Now that I see it in longer scenes, I like Criston’s hair. I just miss his curls.

I honestly think the writers forget they made Criston Dornish until it’s convenient for them.

HE IS ASKING FOR HER FAVOR! HER LORD COMMANDER!!!

Lol Gwayne clocked it.

And Cheese is still hanging. Good.

Ah. This is the episode Helaena and Alicent will be chased right?

“Fear is a weapon” you would know about that based on how you used Laenor’s death to make people fear you.

Why is Rhaenyra trusting Daemon? She said she didn’t trust him?

Would it be treason? It’s not like your father actively handled anything about war.

“The wisest of targaryen kings” there were two or three before him?

Why are Corlys and Rhaenys the most healthy relationships, but he still has two bastards most likely had during their marriage.

Luke admitted that he knew nothing of ships too.

WHAT OF BAELA?!?!?! YOU LITERALLY RAISED HER ON DRIFTMARK!

Rhaenyra’s armies truly are slow.

I wish we could have had more interactions between Baela and Rhaena so we could have established personalities. I feel like we got so much fanon from the books to make personalities for them.

Love that Rhaenyra smiles to Rhaena, who is clearly not pleased.

Also, why did Rhaenyra not talk about Luke at all with Rhaena? Why not say “you loved my son, look after his brothers” like Caesar did in War for the Planet of the Apes?

Alicent holding her granddaughter 🥰 who is young enough to be her daughter.

Helaena smiling at her baby 🥰

Are they really not going to fully let Helaena mourn her son?

Helaena and Aegon actually caring for the smallfolk.

And Alicent validating Helaena’s grief.

ALICENT REALLY NEEDED SOMEONE TO SAY THEY FORGIVE HER. SHE HAS NEEDED THAT SAID TO HER FOR DECADES!

Oh? It’s the conqueror’s armor too? It makes sense. It does look a little outdated.

DO NOT LISTEN TO LARYS!

Gosh darn it, I had hoped Aegon had squared up to Larys to call him out for victimizing Alicent.

I love that Aegon almost innocently questions why they are still having sex when they are meant to be chaste? Like… my dude?

And of course we’re going to go to the brothel *sigh*

Dyanna! Interesting. Either Alicent didn’t give her enough money or…?

Oh. Is that the Truefyre guy? I thought he pretended or claimed to be Viserys’ bastard?

Or is that just another dragonseed?

Oooooooo. Aegon arrived.

Are Aegon and Dyanna going to run into each other?

*sigh* does this scene actually add anything.

OH MY SEVEN HELLS!!! Aemond and Aegon ran into each other! If I were the other guys I would turn and leave.

And still this does not really add anything. We could have gotten this conflict without Aemond being nude.

Good lord. Truly this could be handled differently.

Someone pointed out Aegon destroying the stone Velaryon and Rhaenyra playing with the wooden one. Both can crumble and burn.

It’s almost as if you talked with Alicent once during all these years, things would have been different.

*sigh* *he’s a hightower, can’t have Gwayne have any good qualities I guess.*

I feel like the last two episodes have been slow going.

Love how everyone but Cole is shaking. Dude is calm and collected.

I hate how they will not let women make war decisions. The men have to do it for them. Let them act! It’s definitely making it seem like Rhaenyra is a bystander in her own war. At least Alicent is not the acting ruler and has some excuse.

How many swords do you have on you Daemon?

Also, post Stepstones short-hair Daemon was 100% the best looking one.

Oh? Is Alys going to try to put Daemon under her thrall?

HOLY CRAP!!!! MILLY!!!!!!!! YOUNG RHAENYRA SEWING BABY JAEHAERYSM HEAD BACK ON!!!!! HOLY CRAP!

Ugh. Making Daemon look like he regrets it 🙄 let people besides the greens look awful.

And him appearing in front of the weirwood tree.

Alys’ voice was jarring. It was mainly her accent. It felt so American.

War can no longer be averted? Was the raven sent before or after your husband had her grandson murdered? This is so stupid. It is actually ridiculously stupid.

It would have been nice to have Rhaenyra actually say “the sept” because it would make it seem like she noticed and remembers rather than having to be told.

Emma’s face is perfect for period stuff. They need to do more period dramas! Period dramas with a good script.

Let me guess, someone is going to call for Rhaenyra and it will cause a riot and Alicent and Helaena will be caught in the crosshairs?

I love Alicent, but I am begging them to stop ending the episodes with Alicent (if that is what happens this one too)

YOU HAVE A DAGGER AND ARE AIMING IT AT HER! HOW DID YOU THINK SHE WOUOD REACT?!?!?

“I have begun badly.” YOU THINK?!

Your current husband brutally beat her brother Rhaenyra.

Then why did Rhaenys proceed to kill a bunch of people afterwards.

Why should Alicent trust you Rhaenyra?

His is such a stupid scene.

HE RAPED HER! SHE DID NOT WANT TO MARRY!

Because her memory of her own mother means more to Alicent than it does to you Rhaenyra.

This is such a stupid scene.

Ugh. Are they going to have Alicent realize she misunderstood Viserys. Ugh. I hate this.

His scene is so stupid. I hate this so much.

Her grandson is already dead. She is not the queen anymore.

*sigh* loved seeing them acting a scene together but it was completely pointless.

Also, on his deathbed. He very well could have mentioned the Song of Ice and Fire and Alicent simply didn’t hear it.

The last scene was so stupid.

I swear, the only thing that is saving this show is the actors and actresses. They are amazing and deserve better scripts.

Promo Thoughts

Is the betrayal going to be Alicent and Aemond? *ugh* LET THE GREENS BE A FREAKING FAMILY!

#house of the dragon #boundless watches hotd

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raandom-icons · 2 years ago

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Jace Wayland Layouts 🖤✨

- Please no stealing 🖤

- Please like/reblog if you use 🖤

#icons #icon #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell icons #jace wayland #jace Wayland layouts #layout #layouts #jace Wayland packs #the mortal instruments #Jamie bower icons #Jamie bower layouts #Jamie Campbell bower packs #Jamie Campbell bower pack #Jamie Campbell bower layout #the mortal instruments layout #pack #packs

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bbygrldaemon · 2 months ago

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Worse Things

Chapter 15

Flashbacks High Valyrian warnings - graphic descriptions of violence

ao3 | spanish translation | masterlist

Rhaenyra stared at her two alpha sons standing resolutely before her. Their serious expressions made her wish their request had been in jest. With Daemon and Baelon departed alongside the Gold Cloaks and volunteers the previous day, and Kingsguard temporarily assuming watch duties, the castle stood vulnerable.

Jace and Luke had just volunteered to patrol the skies on Vermax and Arrax. Their determined faces left no doubt of their sincerity. Rhaenyra knew the strategic value—with half their forces gone, aerial patrols could prevent surprise dragon attacks. Yet the thought of her sons facing danger unsettled her deeply.

They were still so young. While Rhaenys remained an option, the queen needed her counsel close. Addam trained under Laenor, and Baela remained grounded by injury. That left only Jace and Luke. Rhaenyra studied their faces, committing every feature to memory.

Stepping closer, she knelt to meet their eyes. "You are to patrol only," she said firmly, locking gazes with Jace. "No engagements. If you spot an enemy dragon, you return immediately to report. Promise me you won't seek battle, Jace."

"I promise," her heir answered without hesitation.

Satisfied, Rhaenyra turned to Luke. "I need you to deliver a message to the Vale."

"But—"

"No arguments," she interrupted. "You serve as messenger only - no combat. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Luke nodded, though a small frown creased his brow.

Rising, she gathered both boys in a tight embrace, pressing kisses to their foreheads. They lingered in the moment before she sent them to prepare. Later, at the Dragonpit, she bid them farewell with a heavy heart, watching until Vermax and Arrax became distant specks.

Twisting her wedding ring anxiously, she took small comfort in Jace patrolling nearby while Luke's longer journey unsettled her. At least the Vale lay far from Green strongholds in Oldtown, she reasoned.

The previous night's discussion with Daemon returned to her—their decision to send their youngest children and Rhaena to Lady Jeyne Arryn's protection, along with Stormcloud and Syrax's three newest eggs. Were it their choice alone, all their children would be sent to safety, but mature dragons remained crucial against Vhagar's threat.

With a sigh, Rhaenyra turned from the empty sky. Her Kingsguard escorted her to the waiting carriage where she sought to calm her racing thoughts. Her family now scattered across the realm, she could only pray for their swift and safe return.

—————————————

The black and grey clouds swallowed the blue sky above as the pouring rain blurred Daemon's vision. Caraxes' shriek cut through the loud raindrops pounding the water below. A flash of thunder illuminated the dark, looming silhouette of the ruined castle in the distance.

Caraxes soared forward and landed atop one of the tallest remaining towers. The omega could hear terrified screams rising above the storm's roar, though he couldn't discern their source below. The Blood Wyrm descended further, settling on the crumbling stairs leading to the main entrance where his rider dismounted.

Daemon climbed the slick stone steps, half-expecting to encounter guards or some form of resistance, but found none. He entered the castle with Dark Sister gripped firmly in his hand, prepared for any attack. Only the relentless patter of rain broke the silence–no voices, no footsteps, just an eerie emptiness that made the fortress appear completely deserted. He might have believed Harrenhal abandoned were it not for his certain knowledge that the Strongs still resided within.

He advanced cautiously through the damp, shadowed corridors, his armor creaking and grinding with each careful step. Navigating the unfamiliar layout set his heart racing as he rounded each corner, muscles tensed for an ambush that never came.

The omega moved with deliberate care down an especially long hallway, unable to make out any figures at the far end. He kept Dark Sister raised, his grip iron-tight, ready to counter any attack that might come his way.

"Daemon..."

He whirled around at the whisper, finding nothing but empty darkness behind him. The female voice had seemed so real he could have sworn he felt breath against his neck.

Shaking off the unease prickling his spine, he pressed forward until reaching the hallway's end. Rounding the corner revealed a steep flight of stairs descending into blackness. With no alternative path, he moved downward, his boots echoing on the concrete steps.

At the bottom, he passed through a small archway into a dark, empty chamber. Nearby stood a taller arch where Daemon heard a soft sigh. Adjusting his grip on Dark Sister, he stepped through the opening and finally encountered a guard.

The man showed no reaction–didn't startle, didn't reach for his weapon when Daemon appeared. Adrenaline surged through the omega's veins, his pulse pounding in his ears. When the guard made no move to attack, anger flared hot along his spine. Unable to restrain himself, he shoved the man aside violently before striding past to throw open the massive wooden doors.

Inside lay a scene of surreal tranquility that starkly contrasted the storm-wracked ruins outside. At the center of a large round table sat who Daemon presumed was Ser Simon Strong, flanked by two younger men who might have been his sons or nephews.

"Harrenhal now belongs to the rightful heir, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen," Daemon declared, raising Dark Sister as both warning and symbol.

The portly beta looked up from his meal with unsettling calm. "Well, of course it does."

He rose and circled the table to approach Daemon. After a brief glance at the omega's face, his gaze dropped as he sank to one knee. Daemon stared in stunned silence at this effortless surrender.

The beta turned to glare at the two men still seated. Under his stern gaze, they scrambled to their feet and knelt, eyes downcast. Daemon could only watch dumbfounded, momentarily uncertain how to proceed.

He was lowering his sword when movement caught his eye–a woman gliding into the chamber from a side passage. Her pitch black hair cascaded over pale shoulders, framing skin so white it seemed to glow against her pale blue gown. While the others had averted their eyes, hers remained locked on Daemon with unsettling intensity as she approached the table. Her refusal to kneel or show any deference piqued his curiosity even as it unsettled him.

"Would you like some supper, Your Grace?"

—————————————

Four days later

The skies above the Riverlands had turned the color of bruised flesh, heavy with the promise of rain. Baelon sat astride Vermithor, the Bronze Fury's massive wings carving through the damp air as they shadowed the column of Gold Cloaks marching toward Harrenhal. From this height, the men below looked like ants winding through the green-and-brown patchwork of fields and forests, their spears glinting dully in the diffused light. The damp air carried the scent of wet earth and the faint metallic tang of armor.

Then he saw them, a second force, smaller but gleaming in crimson and gold, moving along the river road from the west. The Lannister banners snapped in the wind, their golden lions roaring defiantly against the gathering gloom. Baelon's stomach tightened. They weren't supposed to be here. The Greens had sent them—likely to reinforce whatever resistance awaited at Harrenhal, or perhaps to ambush the Gold Cloaks before they could reach the castle.

Vermithor rumbled beneath him, sensing his rider's tension through the bond they shared. The dragon's great head swung toward the enemy, nostrils flaring as if he could already smell the blood to be spilled. The beast's muscles tensed, wings adjusting minutely to the shifting winds, ready to strike at his rider's command.

Baelon didn't hesitate; he leaned forward, his voice cutting through the wind as he urged Vermithor downward. The dragon's wings folded tightly against his body as they plunged toward the Lannister host in a near-vertical dive. The wind screamed in Baelon's ears, tearing at his clothes, the ground rushing up to meet them with terrifying speed. At the last moment, when it seemed they might crash into the earth itself, Vermithor spread his wings with a thunderous snap, leveling out just above the treetops. His shadow, vast and monstrous, swallowed the soldiers below whole.

The first screams rose as the men looked up, their faces twisting in horror. Some froze where they stood, their training forgotten in the face of dragonfire. Others turned to run, only to collide with their comrades in the press of panicked bodies. A few of the bolder knights shouted orders, trying to rally their men, but their voices were lost in the growing chaos.

"Dracarys."

Vermithor's roar shook the earth before the fire came—a torrent of molten gold, pouring from the dragon's jaws in a sweeping arc that lit the twilight with hellish brilliance. The flames engulfed the front ranks, turning men into writhing, screaming torches. The heat was so intense that armor melted like wax, fusing with flesh beneath. The stench of burning meat and oiled steel filled the air, thick enough to choke on, to taste at the back of the throat.

Chaos erupted below. The Lannister lines shattered as soldiers scrambled back, some trampling their own wounded in their panic. A few brave—or foolish—archers loosed arrows, but they bounced harmlessly off Vermithor's scales, their efforts as useless as throwing pebbles at a mountain. Baelon banked hard, Vermithor responding to the shift in his weight with effortless grace, circling back for another pass.

Below, the Gold Cloaks had seized the moment, surging forward with a roar that rivaled Vermithor's. Their disciplined ranks crashed into the disarrayed Lannister forces like a hammer against brittle iron. Steel met steel in a cacophony of clashing swords and dying screams. Baelon caught glimpses of the fighting as he wheeled above—a Gold Cloak driving his spear into a knight's throat, a Lannister swordsman collapsing as an axe split his skull, a man crawling through the mud, his entrails spilling from a gut wound. Baelon dove again.

This time, Vermithor's fire raked across the Lannister reserves, igniting supply wagons in explosions of splintered wood and flame. Barrels of pitch and oil went up with thunderous detonations, sending fiery debris raining down on those unfortunate enough to be nearby. Horses screamed, breaking free of their tethers to bolt in terror, their eyes rolling white with panic. A knight in ornate, gilded armor—some lesser lord, no doubt—raised his sword as if to challenge the dragon himself. Vermithor snapped him up in a single bite, the crunch of metal and bone audible even over the battle's din. The dragon shook his massive head once, like a hound with a rat, before spitting out the ruined corpse.

By the third pass, the Lannisters were broken beyond repair. Those still alive fled in every direction, some throwing down their weapons in surrender, others drowning themselves in the river rather than face the dragon's wrath. A handful of knights tried to rally around a banner, but a final gout of flame reduced them to blackened skeletons clutching melted swords.

Baelon pulled Vermithor up, circling high to survey the carnage. The field was a charred ruin, littered with blackened corpses and the stink of death. The Gold Cloaks moved among the fallen with grim efficiency, finishing off the wounded and stripping the dead of anything valuable. Here and there, a Lannister squire or young soldier wept as he was dragged to his feet, his future now that of a prisoner or a hostage.

A grim satisfaction settled in Baelon's chest. This was war, not the careful politics of court, not the whispered schemes of lords—just fire and blood. The thought should have sickened him, perhaps, but instead, he felt a strange clarity.

Vermithor roared again, the sound shaking the earth beneath them, his victory cry echoing through smoke-filled skies. At Baelon's command, the great beast descended, his massive wings stirring up dust and ash as he landed. The alpha dismounted and strode toward the dying embers of battle, where the last remnants of chaos flickered like guttering candles.

His eyes scanned the field as he moved, searching for Ser Luthor among the surviving Gold Cloaks. He dispatched wounded enemies along the way - a mercy, though a grim one - while silently tallying their losses. Most importantly, he needed confirmation that his mother's sworn sword still stood among the living.

The breath he hadn't realized he was holding escaped his lips when his gaze finally found Ser Luthor's imposing figure. The alpha knight towered over the other soldiers, his posture rigid with authority as he stared down at a cowering man kneeling in the dirt. The prisoner's fine armor marked him as a commander, or at least some high-ranking officer among the Lannister forces.

Baelon approached, coming to stand behind Ser Luthor. "One of their commanders," he observed. "What should we do with him?"

Ser Luthor's lips curled into a smirk as the prisoner's eyes widened in panic. "As much as I'd enjoy ending his misery," he said, "we'll take him prisoner. He might prove useful."

Baelon stepped forward and knelt, bringing himself eye-level with the trembling man. "You should pray to your gods that you are," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. Straightening, he turned to address the gathered soldiers. "We'll make camp deeper in the forest! We march at first light!"

—————————————

Daemon stared up at the ceiling of the dark room, the only sound the raindrops dripping onto the damp concrete floor. Ser Simon had provided him with a large chamber in Harrenhal—worthy of a king, he had claimed—but he’d neglected to mention the numerous holes littering the ceiling.

The incessant, repetitive sound was enough to steal his sleep. He turned in bed, seeking comfort, but loneliness crept slowly over him. The omega let out an irritated sigh and rose swiftly, determined to silence the unceasing noise.

In the corner of the room, he spotted a pile of metal buckets, likely left by the previous occupant. He placed them beneath the dripping water, only to make the sound worse. Now, instead of the soft patter of droplets against concrete, the sharp clang of water striking metal filled the air.

Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted beyond the chamber door. Daemon turned toward it, startled. Flickering light seeped through the narrow gap beneath the wood. With hesitant steps, he approached and pushed against the door. To his surprise, it didn’t yield—it barely moved, as though barricaded from the outside.

Panic surged through him, memories of Runestone flooding his mind. He pulled at the door frantically, desperation clawing at him. The wood refused to budge—until heavy footsteps halted on the other side.

Then came a metallic clang, like something hitting the floor. The shadow beyond the door vanished. Daemon wrenched it open, snatched Dark Sister from where it leaned against the wall, and stepped out. To the left, a dark silhouette rounded a corner.

He followed with swift strides, trailing the figure through long, shadowed halls until they slipped into a candlelit room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Daemon approached cautiously, Dark Sister gripped tightly in his hands. Dread coiled in his spine as he pushed the door open softly.

Before him stood the back of a painfully familiar figure. Her silver curls cascaded nearly to her waist, and her light blue-and-gold dress shimmered in the firelight, which danced across her deep bronze skin.

Daemon froze in the doorway, struck by the sight of what could only be a ghost. Before him stood Laena—his former wife, his alpha. A woman whose corpse he had cradled, carried back, and watched sink into the sea. It was impossible.

“Have you forgotten how I looked already?” Her voice, smooth and familiar, shattered the night’s silence.

Daemon frowned. “I could never forget you.”

“You’ve always been a bad liar,” she said, still not turning to face him.

“I’ve never lied to you.” He shook his head, longing to step closer but fearing what he might find—or not find. He had done many things, but he had never lied to Laena during their marriage. He had confessed every encounter with Rhaenyra, had always told his late wife the truth of what passed between them. Despite Laena’s suspicions, he had never taken his niece to bed while wed to her.

“You promised you would find my killer. Yet after all these years, all you’ve done is build another family.” Finally, she turned, and she looked just as she had the last time he’d seen her alive. Tears welled in the omega’s eyes, threatening to fall. “Did you ever really love me?”

“I did love you. I still love you.” He ached to reach for her hand but dreaded the absence of warmth, the chill of death. “Every time I look at our daughters, I think of you.”

The tears spilled over, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion. “I wish it had been different, Laena.”

A sudden noise behind him made him flinch. He spun toward it but found nothing. When he turned back, Laena was gone. Frantic, he searched the room, panic rising when he found no trace of her.

Another sound, softer this time, drew his attention. In the doorway stood Ser Simon, clad in a gray-and-gold nightgown, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Your Grace?” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Come, you shouldn’t wander these halls alone at night.”

The beta beckoned him, guiding him back to his chambers. Daemon followed without protest, the eerie encounter lingering in his mind. Once inside, he rifled through his satchel for the scent-soaked garments his children and Rhaenyra had left him.

Clutching them tightly, he climbed into the vast, empty bed and pulled the covers over himself. He pressed the fabric to his nose, breathing in the mingled scents of his family. It was incomplete—but enough, at last, to lull the exhausted omega to sleep.

—————————————

The next night

Sleep did not come easily the next night. Daemon lay in the same drafty chamber, the holes in the ceiling now patched haphazardly by some servant, though the scent of damp stone and old iron still clung to the air. He had drunk more wine than usual, hoping to drown the memory of Laena's ghost—or hallucination, or whatever madness had seized him. Yet when he closed his eyes, he still saw her, still heard her voice.

A sharp knock jolted him from his thoughts. Frowning, he sat up. No one should have been disturbing him at this hour. Before he could call out, the door creaked open on its own. Two figures stood framed in the doorway, silhouetted by flickering torchlight from the hall.

One was a girl—no, a young woman—her silver-gold hair braided loosely over one shoulder, her lilac eyes sharp with accusation. She wore a gown of black and red, the colors of House Targaryen. Behind her stood a boy no older than ten, his features achingly familiar: the same strong jaw, the same defiant tilt to his chin.

Rhaenyra and Baelon—but not as they were now. This was Rhaenyra as she had been in her youth, when she was still trapped in the Red Keep, wed to Laenor and suffocating under Alicent's schemes. And Baelon—his son, but younger, smaller, his face unmarked by the years of hardship that had hardened him.

Daemon's breath caught. "This isn't real."

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her voice brittle. "Isn't it?"

The omega flinched. They both looked so real, yet he knew they couldn't possibly be there. He retreated backward until his back hit the opposite wall, trapping him between stone and specters.

"You should have taken me when I asked." Her voice was low, venomous—not the playful teasing of their youth, nor the heated arguments of their marriage. This was fury, honed by years of bitterness.

"You should have wed me the first time I begged you to." Her fingers curled into fists. "Instead, you left me to rot in that damned castle. You let them marry me to Laenor. You let Alicent whisper her lies until the whole court believed my sons were bastards."

Daemon opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off.

"If you had birthed them, no one would have dared question it." Her laugh was hollow. "But you were too busy being a coward."

The words struck like a knife between his ribs. He had wanted her. He had loved her, even then. But he had hesitated—because of Viserys, because of his own pride, because he had been too entangled in his games to see what she was truly offering.

Before he could speak, Baelon stepped forward. "And you stayed with her." The boy's voice was quiet, yet it carried the weight of judgment. Daemon's stomach twisted. He needed no explanation of whom the boy meant.

"Rhae Royce," Baelon spat. "You let her lock you in the dark. You let her call you weak. And when she went too far, you didn't stop her. Not until it was too late."

Daemon's throat tightened. "I didn't know she would-"

"You knew." Baelon's eyes burned with accusation. "You knew she wouldn't make it past the day, all thanks to that woman, but it was too late."

"Alyssa..." A ghostly whisper brushed against his ear, a cruel reminder of what he had lost through his own hesitation. A punishment, perhaps—retribution for all the pain he had caused those he loved most.

The truth of it struck him like a physical blow. He had known. He had endured Rhae's scorn, her cruelty, because he'd been too proud to admit defeat. Too stubborn to crawl back to Viserys and beg release from the marriage. And by the time he'd finally broken free, the damage had been done—to him, to his son, to the family he might have had if he'd been braver.

Rhaenyra's voice cut through the silence like Valyrian steel. "You always waited too long. With me. With her. With everything." She shook her head, her silver-gold hair catching the dim light. "And we paid the price for it."

A sudden gust of wind howled through the chamber, snuffing out the candles. When the light returned, they were gone. Only the echo of their words remained, ringing in his skull like a funeral bell.

—————————————

A day later

The first crack of thunder had been Luke's only warning. One moment, the night sky stretched clear above Blackwater Bay, stars winking as Arrax's wings cut smoothly through the cool air. The next darkness. A wall of storm clouds swallowed the moon whole, and the winds turned savage, howling through the cliffs like a chorus of dying men. Rain came in horizontal sheets, stinging Luke's face as though the sky itself sought to flay him alive.

He was returning from delivering Rhaenyra's message to Lady Jeyne Arryn in the Vale. The Lady of the Eyrie had accepted his mother's request, but with one condition—dragonriders to protect her realm. Now, racing back to Dragonstone with these terms, what should have been a swift, uneventful flight had become a nightmare journey through the storm's wrath.

Beneath him, Arrax trembled—not from exhaustion, but fear. Luke could feel it in the dragon's hitched wingbeats, in the panicked rhythm of his breaths. An unsettling prickling at the back of his neck whispered they were being hunted, though when he scanned the roiling clouds, he saw nothing but darkness. Gritting his teeth, he urged Arrax onward, leaning low against the dragon's neck.

Arrax's shriek tore through the tempest, barely audible above the wind's roar. The young dragon's wings pumped furiously, muscles straining against the punishing gale. Luke's fingers had gone numb around the reins, his knuckles white with tension.

Then movement in the darkness behind them. At first, just a deeper shadow among shadows, then suddenly vast and terrible, swallowing the storm itself, Vhagar. The ancient war-dragon emerged like some nightmare made flesh, her tattered wings carving through the tempest with terrifying ease. And there, astride her scaled back, Aemond, his silver hair whipping in the wind, his single violet eye burning with cold triumph through the rain-lashed night.

"Little nephew!" Aemond's voice cut through the storm, mocking and cruel. "Did you truly think you could slip away unnoticed?"

Luke's blood turned to ice. He wrenched the reins hard left as Vhagar's massive jaws snapped shut mere feet behind them, the heat of her breath searing his back even through the driving rain. His heart hammered against his ribs like a caged beast as he desperately scanned their surroundings, but the storm had stolen all landmarks—there was no telling how far they remained from Dragonstone's safety.

"Arrax, down!" Luke shouted, urging his dragon into a desperate plunge toward the churning sea. The waves below rose like black mountains, their foaming crests glowing eerily in the lightning flashes. Vhagar followed without hesitation, her massive shadow swallowing them whole as she gave chase.

Arrax twisted mid-air with a shriek as Vhagar's talons raked through the space where they'd just been. The near miss sent terror lancing through Luke's veins. He could feel Arrax tiring, the dragon's wingbeats were growing uneven, his muscles trembling with exhaustion.

Spotting a cluster of jagged sea stacks jutting from the waves, Luke banked sharply, weaving between the stone spires that rose like broken teeth from the dark water. Vhagar, too massive for such precise maneuvers, was forced to circle around, her frustrated roar shaking the very air. The brief reprieve lasted only moments—Aemond would not be denied so easily.

With terrifying grace for her size, Vhagar climbed high above them, then folded her wings and dropped like a falling star. Luke had only seconds to react before the ancient dragon was upon them again. Arrax screamed in pain as Vhagar's claws grazed his tail, the impact sending them into a sickening spiral. Luke clung desperately to the saddle, his vision swimming as the world whirled around them.

Somehow, Arrax righted himself, wings beating furiously to regain altitude. Luke gasped for breath, his hands shaking as he wiped rainwater from his eyes. The storm seemed to intensify around them, lightning splitting the sky in brilliant forks that illuminated the nightmare chase, the smaller, agile dragon fleeing before the relentless advance of the largest living creature in Westeros.

"Faster, Arrax!" Luke urged, though he knew his mount was giving everything he had. They ducked beneath a low shelf of storm clouds, hoping to lose their pursuers in the tempest's chaos. For a few precious moments, the world shrank to the howl of wind and the sting of rain, then Vhagar burst through the cloud bank above them, her massive form haloed by lightning.

Aemond's laughter rang out, triumphant. "You cannot hide from me, nephew!"

Luke's throat tightened. He could see Arrax's strength flagging, the dragon's movements growing sluggish. Then, through the storm's veil-light, he saw torches and the familiar jagged silhouette of home.

"There, Arrax! Go!" Luke cried, hope surging in his chest.

The young dragon found renewed strength at the sight of sanctuary, his wings pumping with desperate energy as they arrowed toward the island. Behind them, Vhagar bellowed her fury, the sound shaking the very air.

Luke could see as Silverwing stood poised on the battlements, her pale scales gleaming like polished steel in the stormlight. Addam of Hull stood tall in the saddle, his face set in grim determination. Beside him, Syrax spread her golden wings, Rhaenyra's form unmistakable even through the rain. Vermax coiled nearby, Jace already shouting commands, while Moondancer and Seasmoke stood ready—Baela and Laenor prepared to join the defense.

The sight gave Luke the strength to urge Arrax one final, desperate push toward safety. They must have been alerted by the monstrous roars that rose above the storm chaos. As they crossed the threshold of Dragonstone's cliffs, Luke risked a glance back.

Aemond had reined Vhagar to a halt at the island's perimeter, his face twisted in fury. For one endless moment, rider and dragon hovered at the edge of the storm, violet eye burning with hatred. Then, with a final, earth-shaking roar, Vhagar wheeled about and vanished into the storm.

Luke slumped forward in the saddle, his entire body trembling with exhaustion and relief. As his gaze fell upon his mother, he allowed himself to feel safe once again.

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