#Kingsland Road

[sadisticnstoned]

[rayjuss]

[buffetstraat]

[mister-higgs]

Five PEDESTRIANS with Child sticker Bus Stop Kingsland Road

[eraenaa]

Silent Passions

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Tag List

Synopsis: You and Aemond had been promised to one another before you were even born. And when the time came for you to meet, all were curious to see what was to come when soon to be spouses only shared one thing in common: your want of silence. 

Warnings: Unwanted sexual advances from Daemon Targaryen, ¿Softer Aemond?, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 8,678 (bear with me pls)

A/N: Based on a request where they wanted "Aemond x Tyrell Reader (which has the personality of Francesca Bridgerton), and when they are about to get married, Daemon tries to seduce her, making Aemond distrust her."

A flower promised to a dragon. Long before you were born, you, a daughter of House Tyrell, had been the intended to be wed to the second son of the King, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Your mother was one of the scarce friends the Queen had made in the court after her estrangement with Princess Rhaenyra. You were born in the walls of the keep, the queen in attendance of your birth, smiling widely as the nurse announced that you were a girl— she was the first person to hold you after your mother and the wet nurse who handed you to her. “Oh, such a beauty she is…” The Queen cooed as she held you in her arms. Your mother smiled through her tiredness at how quickly the queen had taken to you. 

“She would make the most wonderful princess,” The queen sighed and returned you to your mother, turning her head towards the door where your promised groom already stood. Prince Aemond waddled to his mother. The boy was only two years old but was already meeting his intended. The queen took her son into her arms, lifting him up to see his future bride, who whined in her mother’s arms. Aemond furrowed his brows, stuck out his tongue, and made a noise of disapproval when he saw the pink-faced babe. “That’s not quite nice… show respect for your future wife,” The queen smiled and brushed the silvery locks of her son. 

That was the first and last time you and the prince met. Your mother and father returned to Highgarden as their stay in court was cut short with your father needing to return to his seat. For the first six and ten years of your life, you were promised to a man you have never met. Bearing the plight of women before you, promised to a man, not because of your will or your love for him but merely for status and to appease those who stood on high stature. You were defenseless as they paved your life before you, forcing you down a road that was often traveled by but many did not wish to cross. 

“We are to return to Kingslanding.” Your father suddenly announced. The dinner table went silent. The boisterous laughs and jests of your three older brothers and the babbles of your younger twin brother and sister growing hushed. “Why?” You asked quietly, breaking the silence. You pet the fur of your beloved feline, trying to calm your nerves as your mind brought forth a reason. “The queen requested our presence, dearest… it is time to meet your betrothed.” Your mother smiled and took hold of your hand, lightly squeezing it in comfort, thought you felt none. You lowered your gaze and tried to shut out the return of loud voices around the table. 

It was not that it was unexpected… it was just… wholly overwhelming. You took a few moments and a few more bites of your supper before excusing yourself from the loud table, needing peace and quiet. “Are you well, sister?” Your oldest brother, Edward, asked in concern, pausing his conversation with your other brothers, Edgar and Edmund. “Yes, I’m just tired.” You said with a small smile and left the dinner table with your pet. 

The matter of your betrothal with the prince was not at all an old matter. Ever since you were a child, they have instilled in your mind that you were Prince Aemond’s intended. That one day, you will be his bride. It was a subject you found troubling— for how can one live at ease, being promised to a man they had never met before? How could one truly live their life if their purpose is only to be married off— treated practically as a broodmare. 

 You were alone with your thoughts until you heard the faint knock on your door and your brother, Edmund, slowly opening it and peeking his head inside your chambers. “Yes?” You asked and sat straighter, removing your eyes from the fire you stared upon. 

“I am just making certain that you’re well.” He said softly and fully opened your chamber door, stepping in and bringing you a piece of cake for you had missed the dessert portion of your dinner. “Thank you,” You say gratefully, but simply place the piece of your favorite dessert on the table beside you, making your brother quickly grow suspicious. “What’s wrong?” Edmund asked in concern, taking his seat beside you. 

You gave him a forced smile and shook your head. “Nothing, I told you, I’m just tired.” You say softly, but your brother’s frown severed. “You’re clearly lying— no matter how tired you are, you always have energy for cake.” Your brother sighed, making you sigh as well. “I’m… I’m scared,” You admitted. Your brother nodded in understanding, “I would be surprised if you weren’t,” 

You twiddled with the ends of your hair as you and your brother were enveloped in a heavy, suffocating silence. “It’s just— I have been prepared for this since I was a babe… It’s all I know, but at the same time, I know nothing. I have no idea about him. What my life would be like after our marriage.” You say, your voice trembling with fear. “And I have been hearing rumors…” you say cautiously, your eyes upon your pet, who slept soundly on your lap.  “Rumors? You are never one to listen to rumors, "Your brother said in surprise; his sister was always indifferent to whispers and gossip. 

“Last summer, our cousin Eliza had gone to court… and there she observed Prince Aemond for me. To report to me what he was like because I had no idea of my future husband,” You began to recount the favor your cousin had done for you to ease your nerves about the marriage. “And?” Your brother leaned closer in curiosity. “She said he was… cold, aloof. Standoffish— ruthless when training with his sword. Indifferent, bordering into insulting to all members of the court.” You say quietly, uttering the harbored fear of your betrothed for almost a year now. Edmund licked his lips; your cousin Eliza was never one to exaggerate. 

“P—Perhaps it was just that summer… mayhap he has changed with the season,” Your brother tried to give a comforting smile, but it turned wary, neither of you believing his comforting but empty words. “I’m sorry, sister,” Your brother said quietly after a moment, looking at you with empathy. He also wondered how you would fare when married to a dragon prince and being a member of the den of vipers that was the court. 

You had always been timid, quiet, demure. He had always been skeptical of this betrothal set between you and the prince. He recalled how your father wanted to contest it, to break off the betrothal in your adolescence, seeing that his daughter was too soft for the harshness of royalty, but your mother did not wish for it, scared that it would offend her friend, the queen. 

“I don’t expect much from the marriage,” You spoke, “I… I only wish for him to be kind and perhaps grant me my solitude from time to time,” You added, and your brother nodded, “We shall see to it that you have it, sister. If we are to prove that the prince is ungallant or disagreeable, we shall convince Mother and Father to free you from him,” Your brother swore, and you gave him a sad smile, unconvinced by his promise but touched by the gesture of it. 

Edmund left his sister to the quiet she reveled and needed; Edmund marched in search of his other brothers. “She’s scared,” He announced as he found them in the drawing room; Edward, the eldest of them, lifted his gaze, “Who wouldn’t be?” He asked rhetorically as he sipped on his wine. “Are we truly that indebted to the crown? That we must oblige them with our dear sister?” Edgar questioned, “We are not indebted; our mother is,” Edgar replied. Your mother is forever grateful for her friend, the queen, who had shown her kindness during her time in court as a girl. She was greatly looked down upon, her father’s house inconsequential to the realm and often seen as a burden— through her friendship with Queen Alicent, she had risen through the ranks and had even secured a match with the heir of Highgarden. 

“Well, surely our sister is too great a price for this… emotional debt, especially when you consider the others who had wished to be her suitor, princes from Dorne and Essos who had sung her praises and showered her gifts for years. Yet they will force her to settle for a second son. She has not even met him! Not a letter or a token to show goodwill to his betrothed,” Edward sighed at his brother’s query. “What would you have us do?” Edgar asked, “I do not know… but if Prince Aemond is truly as harsh and tempestuous as Eliza and the realm says, we must convince them to break the betrothal.” Edmund was contented as his brothers agreed, all concerned for your marriage with a prince you had not even met yet. 

“Is all these frills truly necessary?” Aemond grumbled as he was being fitted for new garments, suffering through the needed preparations to meet his betrothed. “Yes. We cannot have you wear faded attire that reeks of dragon when you meet your betrothed. And I implore you to be kind and good-humored, Aemond. You must not scare off your wife,” Alicent sighed and nodded as the tailor bowed and finished taking the prince’s measurements. “She is not my wife,” Aemond gritted, “She is not your wife yet,” Alicent corrected, and Aemond shook his head. The dread in him was multiplying by the day. He was fortunate enough that his mother had not forced him to meet his betrothed years before, convincing himself that perhaps she had changed her mind and the betrothal could be broken, but alas, the fateful day to meet you has arrived. 

Aemond had not met you nor heard anything from you. He would think it common courtesy for you to send him at least a letter, to know him before this doomed marriage, but you had sent none— no introduction or anything. He did, however, hear talk about you, the bloomed beauty of the reach. A lady who was already betrothed the moment she was born but was still lined up by men who hoped to be her suitor. Aemond scoffed at the thought, perceiving you as promiscuous and maybe even defiled. Aemond met your cousin last summer, the lady Eliza, loud and not at all chaste. A shameless flirt who went around the castle and made a spectacle of herself, she was not you, but Aemond liked to believe that that is how you acted as well. 

Aemond tried to calm himself, to take his thoughts away from your arrival, but it would seem the castle was a growing reminder of you. He walked passed the great hall that was being dressed up for your family’s arrival. He passed the gardens where gardeners had been tending to flowers that were neglected, fretting that your family would take the wilted flowers as an offense. Aemond shook his head and walked through the guest wing, and saw how your chambers were being prepared. Aemond gritted his jaw and decided to retire early that day, but it would seem even the royal wing of the castle was being dressed up for your arrival. He frowned as he passed a once-boarded-up room being cleaned, “Who is to stay here?” Aemond asked a maid, believing his mother would place you in a chamber that was only a few steps from his own, a rather scandalous decision. 

“The prince Daemon, my prince, the hand says he is to stay for the moon,” A maid bowed, and Aemond furrowed his brow before giving a nod to dismiss the maid, and he walked off to his chambers; it would seem that it was not only your arrival he must worry about, he must worry about the arrival of his uncle as well. 

After five days of travel, you and the whole of your family arrived in Kingslanding. You took deep breaths before exiting the carriage, your kin being welcomed by a row of knights along with the Queen and her children. You could not even bear to look at anyone but the queen, scared to let your gaze travel to your betrothed. Your brothers stood by your side, offering support as all three pairs of their eyes assessed the prince, who had a look of disinterest. Edmund turned to his brothers, trying to see if they as well felt the animosity from the one-eyed prince that was easily felt. Through their eyes, they communicated silently and agreed. 

You straightened your back as you felt the Queen’s gaze upon you; only then did you raise your raise your gaze fully and presented her with a pretend smile. “My queen,” You curtsied lowly in respect; Queen Alicent smiled fondly and offered her compliments. The  queen bemused for her son to have such a comely wife. She turned to her side as she felt Aemond had still not stepped forward or had taken the initiative to introduce himself. 

Aemond sighed as he stepped forward and stiffly, almost reluctantly, bowed before you. He was staring at the skirts of your dress, refusing to look upon your face. He watched as the fabric moved as you curtsied before him. When you straightened your stance, you stared at the floor, still not catching a glimpse of your betrothed. 

You feel your brother Edgar’s arm link with yours as your family is escorted inside the walls of the Red Keep. The royal family walked in front of yours, and only then did you dare to look upon your betrothed. Recalling how your cousin had told you that prince Aemond was the taller of the two princes and had a curtain of straight, silver locks. 

Aemond felt your stare, and it took great restraint upon himself not to turn and gaze upon you to see the actuality of his intended. To deduce if the talk of your beauty was true or just another hoax. 

Aemond felt his mother step closer to him, “Invite your betrothed to the gardens— begin to acquaint yourselves with one another.” The queen whispered, and Aemond rolled his eye. “They have been traveling for five days; let them rest first before you force us to these rituals.” Aemond quietly spoke. His words were easily covered by the chatter of your brothers and two younger siblings, but he still had to hear a word to be uttered from your lips. “Very well then, but I expect you to sit and get to know her later during supper,” Alicent warned, and Aemond resisted verbalizing his disapproval, simply nodding along and going about his mother’s orders just as the dutiful son that he was. 

You and Aemond sat quietly in your seats as the table was filled with chatter. Aemond was not accustomed to it; their usual supper was suffocatingly silent; the only thing to be heard was the clatter of silverware upon porcelain and the breathing of his kin. Now, it was filled with varying conversations from your brothers and his, along with the chatter of the queen and her friend. Aemond had still not looked upon your face and nor you him. He stared upon your hand that was gripping your chalice; just from the looks of it, he could attest that it had never known a day’s work. The look of your flesh was soft, supple, unsullied—a stark difference from his own. 

“Do you think they will go on well?” The queen whispered to her friend; your mother eyed you, who sat in her seat, your gaze upon your plate. Her eyes then turned to your future husband, who gazed at the flickering amber light of a candle in between you. “I do not know… my daughter relishes in silence,” Your mother admitted, and the queen hummed. “So does my son,” 

You chewed on your lip as you noticed everyone at the table was chatting with one another, making small talk, except for you and your intended. You sat by his right, and you could make out the outline of him through the side of your eye; your view of him was a bit obstructed, but you could make out the contour of his nose. You battled with yourself if you should speak with him and, if you did, what topic would you bring up to converse with? 

Aemond licked his lips as he caught the eyes of his mother, imploring him to speak with you. He clenched his jaw and took a few calming breaths before parting his lips to speak. “H… How were your travels, my lady?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth, his head slightly turned in your direction. You blinked, trying to deduce if you had actually heard him speak. You turned to face the prince, finally seeing your betrothed eye to eye. “It was fine, my prince,” You answered quietly with a small smile before you and Aemond were enveloped in silence once more. 

Aemond did not know what overcame him when you spoke, and your eyes met his. He was expecting your voice to be shrill and loud— grating, even. He did not expect to hear such a soft, almost melodious tone when you spoke— a deep contrast from the voices of your kin. 

You bit your lip as you saw your mother from across the table imploring you to keep up with your conversation with the prince. “I— I heard you are quite fond of the histories, your highness,” You inquired quietly, holding your breath as your eyes locked with the unique gaze of old Valyria once more. “I am,” he replied curtly, and you nodded, uncertain if you should speak further or let his answer be, sensing he did not wish for small talk, a sentiment you, too, shared. 

You went quiet once more, and in other circumstances, Aemond would find relief in that, letting himself ease into the quiet, but there was an odd sensation in him that was pushing him to continue the unconventional conversation you two shared. Aemond, however, bit his tongue and let you two be enveloped in silence as you waited for supper to end. 

Aemond returned to his chambers, mind plagued by how to perceive his first encounters with you. He had prepared himself for the possibility of him growing annoyed and aggravated by your presence, but he was surprised in himself as he felt no such emotions rising within him. In truth, he felt somewhat serene that night, a feeling he had not felt in a long time. However, instead of enjoying the calm in his raging being, he ignored it, untrusting of it. Convincing himself that that night was luring him into a trap, one you had devised, acting ever so demure and coy, not presenting your true nature and only deceiving the prince. He will not fall for it. He fortified himself to not lay prey to this calming allure you offered. 

When the next morning came, Aemond was implored with the rest of his siblings to break their fast with yours. Your mothers forcing a bond between their children. Aemond expected his brother Aegon to complain and not abide by their mother’s wishes which is why he was caught off guard as his brother agreed, him being the first one to go to the gardens. “Your Highnesses,” Aemond heard your brothers greet in unison as you four stood and curtsied and bowed before the three of them. 

Aemond first assisted his sister to a chair before finding one for himself, and by fate, the only seat left was the one next to yours. Aemond sat quietly and tried to finish his meal as fast as he could without appearing crude. He listened in to the chatter across the table, surprised that you and his sister struck up a conversation as well. Aemond listened intently to your voice, trying to see if the volume of your speech was forced to lower or if that was just actually the way you spoke, soft— calming. 

He did not pay mind to the subject you and his sister discussed, but he supposed he should have as he suddenly heard quiet laughs emitting from the both of you. Aemond felt an odd warming in his chest as he heard you laugh; it was almost… surreal to hear it. Your laugh was what he imagined nymphs’ laughs would sound like as he read about them in his books. He was in a trance; it was… out worldly that even he, the well-spoken and silver-tongued prince of the realm, was speechless on how to describe it. 

He was proven wholly wrong as he based your manners to be alike your cousin. You were a stark difference from the lady Eliza, and a part of Aemond had hoped you were like her because then, he could justify the prejudice against you that settled and bloomed in his heart. Now, he must come to terms with shedding his cruel perception of you and might actually make an effort to know his betrothed better. Aemond stayed in the gardens that morning a while longer than he had anticipated, trying to deduce your character as you spoke with his sister and interacted with your brothers. A part of him still believes that what you presented was an act, that you were not as demure and chaste as you lead them to believe. But as he saw your small smiles, timid eyes, and flushed cheeks when Aegon would speak of such inappropriate topics, he started to feel as if you were being genuine. 

As the sun began to descend higher into the skies, the children of the queen and her friend decided to depart from the gardens, the heat proving to be too great for comfort. “My lady, would you perhaps like a tour of the keep?” Aemond boldly but quietly asked, he felt the eyes of your brothers turn to him, but he was trying to capture your gaze. A gaze that he had trouble locking upon his, your eyes always darting around the room, difficulty in holding prolonged eye contact. “I would very much like that, my prince,” You smiled, and Aemond stood straighter, feeling his knees give out under him just because of your smile. 

Your brother’s eyes followed you as you and the prince detached yourselves from the group. “Should we not follow them?” Edmund questioned, “Are they allowed to go about without an escort?” Edgar then asked, their queries pointed towards their eldest brother. “I— I do not know… perhaps we should just let them get to know each other, and if sister has any concerns, that is when we shall intervene.” Edward decided, his eyes following your departing figure that was next to a silver prince. 

Aemond was not entirely certain as to how he would go about touring you along the Red Keep; the castle was dreary and had nothing of note to look upon, so he took you to the gallery. It was a less frequented room in the castle filled with portraits of his family’s history as well as some of Westeros. You and Aemond stood before a portrait of the conqueror and his wives, him retelling the histories that you already knew of, but you still listened intently because there was just something in his voice that entranced you. It was deep, velvety, and quiet— holding a sense of calm that enveloped you with every word he uttered. 

Aemond guided you towards another portrait, but he noticed your gaze had shifted to the side of the room, your gentle gaze upon a harp. “Do you play, my prince?” You questioned, unable to resist the instrument that sat lonesome to the side, dusted and neglected. Aemond followed you, “No, I do not,” he answered, his eye going to your fingers, which seemed to itch to touch the strings of the unused harp. “Do you?” He asked, already guessing the answer. Aemond held his breath as your eyes finally locked with his, “I do,” you said, voice holding a pitch of excitement about the subject. There was a beat of silence, neither of you knowing what to do or say. 

“Would you like to play it?” Aemond questioned and he felt his stomach grow warm as a smile appeared on your lips when you nodded. You ventured closer to the dusted seat, but Aemond was quicker to reach it and wipe away the remnants of lapsed time. “Thank you,” You say quietly as the prince stands by your side and observes you play. 

Aemond was never one to enjoy music or songs, but he must admit, there was something captivating about how you played the harp. The tune you played was one he had not heard before, something bright and lively yet still soothing. Aemond stood in quiet awe, watching as your fingers danced along the strings and how your eyes closed, and there was a tranquil smile on your lips as you played the tune. Aemond tried to resist it, but he could not help but help himself as a smile twitched on his lips as he listened to your melody, which, unfortunately, quickly came to a halt. 

“It’s not finished yet,” You say in slight embarrassment, daring to turn to the prince, who you were surprised to see have a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You wrote that?” He questioned, and you nodded, “Well, I try. I don’t think I'm quite good at it, if I am being honest— but my father did say that this piece holds the most promise.” You say sheepishly. “I quite enjoyed it,” Aemond admitted, and that compliment made your heart grow warm. “I’m glad,” You smiled, and another silence took the room, the silence you and he found comfort in. 

With each day spent trying to acquaint with one another, you would like to beleive you and Aemond had reached a deeper understanding. Each of your perceptions made of each other before your meeting shed as you and him began to know each other’s actuality.

There was a secret language between you, a silent one, at that. An agreement that neither of you had to fill up the gaps and lags in your conversations, simply enjoying the quiet, not forcing another topic as a filler. Others around you found it odd that you and your betrothed just walked and sat in silence, occasionally speaking of something that only you and he were privy to, but you and Aemond quite liked your arrangements. 

“They just sit there in silence,” The queen fretted to her friends, finding the design of your accord quite odd. Fretting that the silence was brought by indifference rather than just a mutual and deeper understanding, because how could one get to know the other in silence? “Aye, they do, but they don’t seem… bothered or disinterested by it— I dare say they are fond of it,” Your mother said as the two observed you and Aemond, who walked along the gardens in silence, relishing in the sounds of nature. 

“My uncle shall arrive today,” Aemond broke the silence, assisting you to a seat for the two of you to have refreshments, “Oh, Prince Daemon?” You asked, wanting to make certain of who he spoke of. Aemond gave a nod and watched as your delicate fingers poured him a cup of tea. “Are you close with him, my prince?” You wondered. “No, not at all. I’ve only met him once,” He answered as he placed two cubes of sugar upon your cup, noting that is how you took your tea. 

“However, I must admit that I am intrigued by him.” You nodded, “I always hear talk in this court as to how the lords and ladies compared me to him in his youth,” Aemond confessed, “And does that please you?” Aemond thought about your question for a moment, staring into your gaze that has grown accustomed to looking upon his. “No,” he answered, watching as you nodded. “I would understand; it wouldn’t fare well if we are always compared to another’s likeness,” You mused before you and the prince were enveloped in the inevitable silence once more. 

When supper was nearing, Aemond felt excitement in seeing you once more. He had come far from the prince who dreaded your company; now, he sought it—altering his usual routine in order to spend more time with you. 

Aemond was the last one to enter the dining hall, his eye searching your frame, feeling a smirk twitch on his lips, but it quickly disappeared as he realized his uncle had taken his place. “Prince Daemon, we have saved you a seat next to the king,” Alicent spoke as she noticed Aemond’s arrival, noting how Prince Daemon was quick to spot you when he entered the hall and made a beeline towards you— chatting with you who had no interest in small talk but still participated out of respect.

“I am quite comfortable here, next to Lady Tyrell,” Daemon refused the seat, only settling further into his chair as he turned to the girl next to him, but her gaze was turned to one of his nephews, the one who had a resemblance of him in his youth. You hear the quiet yet disapproving hum of your betrothed as he orders a squire to place a chair by your right, just enough space for him to sit next to you. The new place on your right offered closer proximity between you and Aemond as you had scooted away from his uncle, but he did not like that you were on the side of a damaged eye, unable to see your outline. 

Supper was tenser than the ones shared before; the chatter had died, and the table was enveloped in silence, but not the kind you and Aemond found comfort in. It was the silence that everyone feared and tried earnestly to alter, but no matter the attempts, it seemed futile. 

Aemond clenched his fists around his utensils, hearing as his uncle tried to chat you up and you entertaining his queries. “So, what brings you and your family here, Lady Tyrell? Highgarden is quite a journey.” Daemon questioned. “They came for my betrothed and I to be acquainted,” Aemond suddenly interjected, turning his body to face you and his uncle, who he had noticed threaded closer to your side. Daemon hummed, quick to sense jealousy from his nephew. He knew he should be somewhat mature, but his mind could not help but conjure up possibilities to torment his brother’s second son. “Hm, you are quite fortunate to have such a lovely betrothed; it would seem the crown has favored you… I remember my first wife, Lady Royce, the bronze bitch whose sheep seemed to prove more comely than her,”

Your eyes widened at the elder prince’s words, disparaging his first wife so openly and offensively. “If my brother had provided me with a bride whose beauty was comparable to Lady Tyrell’s, perhaps there would be no need for me to leave my first wife… you are lucky, nephew,” Aemond clenched his jaw as he noticed Daemon’s eyes trail downward to your bosom that heaved ever so lightly as you were rendered uncomfortable by their topic.

You turned to your brothers, a plea in your eyes to save you from the princes you sat in between. Edward was quick to stand, “Come, sister, I shall escort you to your chambers,” He announced, and you let out a breath, Aemond standing as well to make way for you to exit, “Good night, my lady,” He bowed and boldly took your hand placed a kiss on your knuckles. A blush over, taking your cheeks as you curtsied before him, your mothers thrilled as they saw affection blooming between the two of you. 

“You looked quite uncomfortable,” Your eldest brother noted. “Is your betrothed proving to be ungallant? Must we intervene now and convince mo—“ You quickly shook our head, “No! Prince Aemond has been quite… lovely; cousin Eliza was somewhat wrong in her judgment,” You say quickly in defense of Aemond, who you had grown to deeply like the past few days. “I was just not prepared to meet a character such as the Prince Daemon,” You added, and your brother nodded in understanding; he, too, was scandalized as he heard the words uttered by the elderly prince. 

“So, you have grown to be quite… fond of your betrothed,” You bit your lip as you hear a teasing tone in his voice. You sighed and felt a smile coming to your lips. Whatever fear you had for the marriage subsided with every silent and serene moment with Aemond. “I have.” You confirmed, and your brother nodded. Placing a kiss on your temple before you enter your chambers and get ready for the night.

It has been three days since Prince Daemon’s arrival, and Aemond has been growing peeved at how his uncle would always trail you. Aemond’s new routine of spending the quiet hours of his days with you that was quick to feel like second nature, abrupted by the arrival of his uncle. There were now only scarce moments where you and Aemond were left in each other’s company and quiet, his uncle always trying to speak with you, and you could not deny him conversation, for it would be impertinent. 

It was past high noon when Aemond concluded his training with Ser Criston, his feet hastily carrying him away from the tiltyard to find you, who had frequented the gallery to play the old harp that found new life from your touch. He stood by the threshold and was quick to grow annoyed as he noticed his uncle was in your presence once more. 

“You do not speak much, do you?” He heard Daemon question, your fingers ceasing to play the instrument. “I take it upon myself to not speak unless spoken to, my prince. I do not wish to bother anyone. I know how… annoying it can be when one just simply wishes for peace and quiet, but there is an insistent noise you must attend to.” You say, and Aemond was quite surprised as he heard a slight in your comment, but his uncle did not seem to catch it. 

Aemond observed as you returned to play the harp, the melody easing whatever tension he harbored, but it was quick to return as his uncle wandered closer to you. Aemond stood rigid by the door; your back was face to him and he saw his uncle turn his head towards the door, a smirk on his lips as he stepped further into your space. Daring to take a lock of your hair in his fingers, twirling the lock. 

You tensed in your seat as you felt Prince Daemon’s finger twirl your hair. You looked at the strings of the harp wide-eyed, uncertain of what to do. 

When Aemond noticed your unmoving frame that did nothing to hinder his uncle’s actions, he removed himself from the door frame and marched back to his chambers. Whatever understanding made between the two of the past days was quickly forgotten as his cruel perceptions of your nature, he mustered before meeting you returned. 

You sat tensely at dinner that night once more, waiting for the presence of your betrothed to somewhat comfort as his uncle sat next to you again. When Aemond entered the hall, you placed your hopeful gaze upon him, but he did not turn to you, ignoring the empty seat next to you and instead to a seat in what was supposed to be the place of his uncle. 

Throughout dinner, you would peek a look at Aemond, who refused to meet your gaze. There was a prominent scowl on his face, and his demeanor held an air of indifference that strayed dangerously close to animosity. You started to wonder if the Aemond you stared upon right now was the Prince your cousin had warned you about. And perhaps the past few days spent with him was an act, a fictitiousness in him to appease his mother so the marriage would proceed. You were disheartened by the thought. 

When the following morning came, Aemond’s eye followed as you roamed the halls alone, following behind you but not close enough for you to notice your presence. You led him back to the gallery, where both of you were caught in surprise when his uncle stood in the room, waiting for you. Aemond clenched his fists, believing he was a witness in your clandestine meetings. The scandal of it! Here you are, an engaged woman meeting with a man who was old enough to be your father and was married to the King’s chosen heir!

“My prince,” you curtsied as you spotted him near the harp, having the urge to turn back around and exit the room. Uncomfortable to be alone in the Rogue Prince’s presence. “All alone? Where is your betrothed?” Daemon mused, stepping closer to you. “I— I do not know,” You said and backed away from the prince who was threading closer to your space once more. “Hm, it’s quite foolish of him to leave his lovely bride to be all alone… especially in this keep where danger always lurks,” Your lips parted at his words. Was that a threat? You thought. 

You swallowed thickly and turned to the door, wanting to make an escape but not one so obvious that it would make suspicion rise. Daemon smirked as he saw fear in your eyes; it was so easy. You were such an innocent and sheltered thing. He could smell you from leagues away, a lovely and tempting prey that a dragon could never resist. It was a shame that you were betrothed to his nephew, but perhaps that could still change. 

You gasped as you felt Prince Daemon flush your bodies; you stared at him wide-eyed as he took hold of your cheek. 

Aemond watched the scene; rage within burned bright and carelessly. He wanted to put a stop to whatever he witnessed, but he stood in wait, wanting to find evidence if this was truly how you were— promiscuous and would settle to be a whore of his uncle.

“My prince, wh—“ You panicked, trying to back away, but he held you still. “Such a pretty young thing you are… a shame that you’ll be wasted on my disfigured nephew,” You drew out all of your might and pushed away Prince Daemon, him stumbling only a few paces. You see a sinister smirk rise to his lips as he tries to close the gap between you once more, but you are quick to strike his cheek, rendering him in shock, and you take that opportunity to run out of the room and into safety. 

Aemond was hidden behind a pillar, and as you passed, he saw clearly the distress on your face and how you were on the verge of tears, rendering him guilty for not coming to your aid as he had thought you were in want of his uncle. 

Aemond saw as Daemon furiously marched out of the gallery in pursuit of you, but he was quick to step away from his hiding and face his uncle. “You dare try to sully her? Was my half-sister and your whores not enough? Must, in your old age, still prey on young innocent girls?” Aemond spat, ready to challenge his uncle in your honor. Daemon chuckled as the young prince stared at him wide-eyed. “You get ahead of yourself— they might compare you to me in my youth, but you are completely lacking of what it means to be a true Targaryen prince… you’d have to thank your cunt of a mother for that.” Daemon chuckled, and Aemond no longer hesitated to draw out his sword. 

A battle between nephew and uncle commenced in the halls; both men wielded their weapons with such authority that neither one could draw blood. Daemon was somewhat impressed by his nephew. He thought the talk he heard of Aemond was just propaganda spread by his grandsire, but it would seem that his nephew knew his way with the steel. That, however, did not deter the prince, for Aemond was still completely inexperienced when compared to him. 

One of the princes was near drawing blood when a band of Kingsguards appeared in the halls and were quick to separate the dueling princes. Daemon laughed as he was held back by the knights, his nephew still seething across from him, still ready to attack. The elderly prince brushed off the hold on his arms and laughed once more before walking away from his nephew, leaving their state as it was. 

Aemond brushed off the guards and hastily marched in search of you, wanting to make certain you were well— wanting to offer his apologies for his judgments and lack of protection over you. 

He knocked on your door, waiting on bated breath as he heard you shuffling inside. When you slowly revealed yourself, Aemond felt his stomach pit at the sight of your teary eyes that you tried to hide. “I’m sorry,” He was quick to breathe out, unable to stomach you in such a state of distress. Your brows knit together at his words, “What? My pri—“ Aemond shook his head and forced himself into your chambers. 

“I’m so sorry, my lady… I—“ Aemond repeated but you still had no clue as to what he refers to. “My uncle, he is a depraved man; I should have protected you from him.” He explained as he saw confusion in your face. Your eyes widened at his statement, “You saw us?” You asked in fear that he would think you were tarnished. “I have, and I… I should have come to your aid, but instead, my mind cruelly thought you were in want of him; I apologize, my lady.” It felt foreign for Aemond to apologize, but it seemed to roll off his tongue effortlessly for you. He would never have fathom to encounter someone or the day that he would apologize earnestly, ready to beg for forgiveness. 

“No… my prince, you need not apologize; it was not your doing,” you said, but Prince Aemond stubbornly shook his head. “It is my duty to protect you— to defend my lady wife.” You bit your tongue as he referred to you with such a title. It felt surreal… and you must admit it brought a stir in you that you quite liked. 

You and Aemond were in silence once more, the silence both of you had gotten used to, the silence within each other that you both craved. The serene silence that could only be provided by each other. “Will you still… still have me? Even after my transgression?” Aemond dared ask, not wanting to live in the hope that there would still be a way that you would be his. Surely, you would be deterred to take him as your husband, for he could not even defend you with such a threat. Aemond studied your face, his knees growing weak as a smile spread across your lips. “I still want you, my prince,” You admitted, heat blooming in your cheeks as you said the words. Aemond could not help but cup your cheek, wanting to feel the warmth of them as they flushed with color before him. 

“I must admit… I was dreading to meet you,” He said quietly, and he felt you nod. “I, as well… I was greatly warned that we might not see eye to eye.” You admitted. Aemond hummed and brushed his thumb across your soft skin, your bodies threading closer and closer. “I do not believe I would ever want someone as much as I want you,” Aemond confessed, his voice so low that if you had not felt his breath fanning your skin, you would think you had imagined his words. “I never thought anyone would understand me in the way that you do, my prince,” You breathed out as his face threaded closer to yours, his eye on your lips as you spoke. 

“You’re mine… say it, my darling.” Your eyes fluttered closed at his words. “I’m all yours,” Quickly after you uttered the words, you feel his lips upon yours. A kiss filled with longing— impatience. A kiss that was long overdue, for how could either of you live for years without knowing each other? How could Aemond try to ignore your existence, and how could you try to deny this marriage? It was set the day you were born. You two were simply destined for one another. 

As your lips parted, you smiled before your soon-to-be-husband. Aemond hummed in contentment and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, inhaling your intoxicating scent deeply. “Shall we tell our mothers that they shall prepare for our wedding, then?” Aemond smiled, and you let out a quiet laugh as you nodded, letting him hold you. “And urge them to make haste,” Aemond’s eye twinkled with amusement as he dipped down to capture your lips once more. 

A fortnight had barely passed before you and Aemond uttered your vows before the gods—an intimate wedding commenced, as you both requested. And it was followed by a family dinner after. Aemond was impatient, as were you, but you and he waited for the meal to end; for the past days, there was a need greatly bubbling inside him, having trouble finding restrtaint and contentment with just stolen kisses and touches. 

When it was finally night, Aemond led you to his chambers, you already flushing in anticipation of what was to come. When he led you to your shared chambers, you were met by something covered in a white cloth. You frowned and turned to your husband, who simply smiled and closed the door behind you. “It’s a gift for you.” He said and stood before it. You stepped closer as he urged you to uncover what he had given, though you already had a sneaking feeling as to what it was. 

Aemond watched with his heart in his eye as you beamed before him as you uncovered what he had given— a harp. Newer and grander than the one in the gallery, the body was plated with gold, and delicate carvings of flowers scattered its body. You bit your lip and step towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips agaisnt his. “Thank you… I love it,” you said gratefully as your lips parted. Aemond simply hummed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know we were to exchange gifts… I could’ve gotten something,” You then say, fretting he would take offense. 

Aemond shook his head. “You already have given me your hand; you are my wife. What more could I want?” Those words uttered, and the certainty in Aemond only made you melt further. He intertwined your lips once more, but the kiss shared held something wholly different from the ones shared before; it was urgent, filled with longing and desires that were greatly suppressed. 

You feel breathless, but at the same time, you make no move to part your lips. You feel him lead you to the feathered bed, his hands on your waist as he sits you gently upon the cushion. You blushed as you felt his fingers hover at the bodice of your dress, itching to undo the laces, but there was trepidation in him. You bit the insides of your cheeks and took the initiative to do it yourself. Aemond sucked in a deep breath as your dress fell before him, revealing yourself only dressed in your shift. 

Aemond fell on his knees before you, moving his hand to cup your cheek and the other to undress you further. He heard a moan escape your lips as he nipped your bottom lip. His cold hand cupped your breast that pebbled before his touch. You mewled his name as he parted your lips, your hands finding the buttons of his leather tunic. 

You ran your hands through his smooth, chiseled chest and Aemond felt chills running down his spine at the feel of your hands on his skin. You let out a breath as you feel your husband lay you down, his weight atop you, his weeping length aligned with your glistening entrance. You sighed as you felt his finger tease your folds, Aemond resting his forehead up your shoulder as he felt your arousal. “You’re all mine, my darling,” Aemond breathed out against your lips and swallowed your whines as his length penetrated you.

Aemond groaned at the sheer feel of you clenching around him. Pleasure and guilt swirled within him as he saw your face contorted in pain, kissing away your tears as you acclimatized yourself with his length. He truly thought himself indifferent in the ways of pleasure, only succumbing to it occasionally when even he could not suffice his lust— but now, he was certain he knew what the fuss was all about when it came to fucking. He had only a taste of you, but he was certain he was addicted. It took a moment before your whines of pain turned into whimpers of pleasure, your husband breathing heavily as you urged him to speed up his pace, but Aemond was conscious not to break and hurt you further. 

“Aemond, please… I wa— need more,” You breathed as Aemond’s thrusts were cautious. He bit his lip and sped up his pace ever so lightly, but that was not enough for you. With your legs circling his waist, you shifted your weight and placed yourself atop your husband. Aemond was rendered stunned by your actions, only watching in awe as you bounced upon his cock whilst you straddled his waist. He never thought you’d have it in you, but he supposed it was always the quiet ones who would be capable of the unexpected. 

“You were so quiet the days before, little wife… but look at you now— your moans could be heard throughout the castle.” Aemond hummed, and his hands found home on your waist, assisting you as you writhed against his length. Your hands were planted on his chest as your hips worked against his in search of friction. “Husband, please,” you pleaded, knowing you would not come to what you searched for without his assistance. Aemond smirked and moved his hands to cup your behind and lifted his hips to thrust deeper and harsher into you. 

“Yes… yes, gods, Aemond!” You cried as you heard him groan at how you scratched his chest, leaving imprints of your hands upon his skin. “Are you to come, my darling? Is my little wife to come at my cock?” He hissed as he felt his own release coming. His hands traveled your frame, cupping your tits and moving his head to take one into the cavern of his mouth. You nodded, your head that was tilted to the heavens, your back arched, and your husband’s name slipping your lips as you came undone. You hear him call out your name as he spills his seed deep in your cunt, your heavy breathings mixed as you collapse atop him, his lips finding yours once more. 

“You truly are made for me,” he whispered against your lips. Feeling a surge of new and overwhelming emotions that you could not yet utter, all you could do was kiss his lips once more and bask in the presence of the man who had been bound to you the moment you were born. 

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[thestoryden]

Changing Winds Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader Jacaerys Velaryon x Strong!Reader Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Violence, Cannon Divergence Words: 2.1k HOTD MASTERLIST

Summary: In a world much different from our own King Viserys has yet to leave this world, but tensions still rise at the capital between Rhaenyra and Alicent. In a battle for truth and legacy you find yourself caught in between two princes. The only question now is: Who will you choose?

As you arrive back to the Red Keep from weeks on the road your mind lingers on the last time you saw Jacaerys. The thought of his soft smile twists your insides with excitement; his lips soft as fresh snow. His body pressed against your, his warmth biting back the cool summer breeze. You cannot wait a minute more to see him. You think to yourself his hair must have grown out in the few months you were apart. You wonder how it will frame his face now. Your carriage comes to a jerking halt, making your dreamy thoughts of him fizzle as you nearly fall out of your seat.

“Hey! I am supposed to make it back to the castle alive.” You shout to the coachmen.

You are helped out of the carriage and there in one person of nobility there to greet you. Aemond Targaryen. You roll your eyes. This blonde fool had been following your around nonstop the last time you were at the castle. Any moment that he was not in court, you could find him trailing behind you. He stands there with a slight smile; he is always up to some scheme. You huff out some kind of greeting as he extends out his hand in invitation. You reluctantly take it.

“A pleasure to see you again, Lady Strong” Aemond muses.

His kisses your hand gently and you retract it as quick as lightning. You look up at him. If he were not a prince you would even bother to greet him. Unfortunately, your fantasy does not match the reality of the present situation. His one eye focuses in on you. Whatever was left of his other eye, he keeps tucked behind a simple leather patch. You purse your lips. He is as unnerving as ever.

“Why is my father not here to greet me?” You ask bitterly.

You already know the answer, the Lord Confessor is always too busy to see you unless he needs something from you. He dealt mostly in information and would scrape out any kind of knowledge you had on the family’s inner workings whenever he saw you. Aemond lips curl in to a devilish smile.

“The Lord Strong is preoccupied at the moment.” Aemond replies, “The queen sent me to greet you in his stead. She said you should have a warm welcome home.”

Of course she did. She had taken a liking to you before she even officially met her. She had summoned you to court once she had come by news of your mother’s passing. As a child you could not refuse her request, so you were uprooted from your family’s home and sent to Kingslanding. From that day forward you were raised with the royal children. You were meant as a companion for Helena, but when you took more to Jace and Luke she did not complain.

Aemond leans down closer to your face, “Did you hear me?”

You snap back to reality and take a step back nearly stumbling into the carriage. Aemond swiftly laces an arm underneath you, and pulls you to his side. Your face burns with embarrassment. You can feel his muscles cradling your waist.

“What is it?” You scoff, as if you could make the tumble seem intentional.

Aemond’s face softens, “The queen would like you to join her for tea after you have settled in.”

You find your footing and push him away. He only releases you once you have steadied. He relaxes and lightly brush his hair back over his shoulder.

“Yes, of course I will.” You reply as you dust off your gown.

Aemond quiets his voice, “I am delighted my dear.”

Your face contorts in disgust at what must surely be a poorly timed jest. Aemond smirks in response, and makes his way in to the keep. You wait till his behind shut doors to stamp your feet in irritation.  

“By the Seven, that stupid boy won’t leave me alone.” You seethe.

You head to your room and try to mentally prepare yourself for the upcoming tea. The thought crosses your mind that Jace may have left a note or gift to welcome your home coming. You urge your feet to move faster. When you finally see the familiar room, you check everywhere only to come up empty handed.

“Has anything been left for me?” You question a maid.

She shakes her head no in response.

After all the dirt and grime of the road is scrubbed off you finally look like a proper lady. A blue dress with green finery makes the cut for your tea gown. With your hair styled you head towards the castle gardens. At the far end, a table is set, Queen Alicent and the two of the greatest annoyances in your life are arranged around it.

“Greetings, Your Grace, the seven’s blessings be upon you.” You say softly.

“And to you Lady Strong,” Alicent replies with a cheerful smile.

You shift to an almost dreary tone, “Aegon, Aemond, glad to see your dragons didn’t shred you to pieces while I was gone.”  

You bow to the Alicent and take the seat closest to her. Your eyes drag over the dishes and goblets. You are starved for decent food after the dried meats and oats of the journey to Kingslanding. There is a suspicious lack of tea at the table.

“Pardon me, Your Grace, but I thought I would be joining you for tea.” You question lightly.

Aemond voice sounds in a sullen tone, “As did I, but there were circumstances”

His words are cut short by Aegon’s slurring, “What my boorish brother means to say is, I wouldn’t come unless there was wine.”

You straighten your face as to not upset the queen and take a deep breath in. You had only left them for a few months and these two had some how gotten worse in your absence. You decide to move on to something more tasteful.  

“Will Helena be joining us?” You ask trying to smooth over Aegon’s words.

The queen smiles, “Helena was her already. She grew tiresome of the boys’ antics and is now wondering the garden as we speak.”

“Bugs. She is searching for hideous insects rather than enjoying my company.” Aegon says in disgust.

Aemond quips back, “Well it is certainly more stimulating than speaking with you, Aegon.”

“Boys!” Alicent’s tone shifts, “She has not taken news of Jacaerys’ engagement well.”

Your mouth drops open, “His what?”

Aegon bursts into laughter, “They didn’t tell you?”

The next few moments are a blur. Aegon says something but in blends in with the horror engulfing your body. You find yourself leaving the table without any pleasantries and running off to in to the palace doors. The dark doorway like a gaping maw, you plunge yourself into the darkness of the keep’s halls.

Your dark brown curls cling to your sweaty face as you rush through the halls of the Red Keep. Step after step the words the Aegon had said to you burn into your brain. He’s engaged to Baela. It happened while your away. Your chest felt like it might explode out of your body. Soon you were pushing open the doors to the training yard. The cool air hits your face and you are frozen for just a moment as Jace smile beams with a laugh.

At first the sight of him cools off any irritation you may have felt, but then you realize that smile is not for you. It is for the white-haired girl standing opposite of him. Baela. He take her hand in his and gently kisses it. It is far too intimate to be considered a regular greeting. The fires inside you are once again stoked. You cannot imagine why he would embarrass you like this, and so publicly too. He deserves to feel your pain.

“Jacaerys!” Your voice rings out over the clanging of blades.

Everyone pauses and looks to you and then to the man you called upon.

His face goes ghost white, “You weren’t supposed to be back yet.”

The words dribble out of his agape mouth. You can feel the red-hot anger boiling just under the surface of your skin.

“Seven Hells!” You shout, “Is that all you have to say to me.”

You unstick your feet and plow through the muddy yard. Your colorful dress soaks in the damp earth turning it into a swampy discolored mess. He drops Baela’s hand as you lunge towards him, tackling Jacaerys to the ground.

“I am sorry.” He whines, “It was an accident.”

“An accident! An accident!” You yell back, “Breaking a glass is an accident! You broke my heart, that takes effort.”

You raise your hand and ball it in to a fist, bringing it down hard on to Jace’s face. The motion sends you forward a bit, giving Jace enough time to shield his face from more blows.

“I didn’t mean for it to end up like this.” He begs, “You have to believe me!”

You grab on to his mud-caked curls and pull his head up before slamming it back down. The force of it shoving the crust of the training field into Jace’s mouth.

“Collecting ladies’ maidenhoods!” You screech, “You are nothing, but a bloody bast-”

You are cut short by massive pair of arms wrapping around you and tearing you away. You still clutch on to a few of Jace’s curls that come up with you. Leaving him yowling in pain.

“That’s enough.” The deep voice rumbles through you.

You recognize it immediately as your uncle, Harwin Strong.

“You wouldn’t want say anything more you would regret.” He chastises.

He carries you out of the training field and back in to the castle. When Harwin sets you down he looks you in the eye.

“You mustn’t fault the boy for doing he duty.” He says gently, “There is still love in his heart for you. I am sure of it.”

Your purse your lips. You can’t think of the words you are hearing. Everything is drowned out by a blinding rage. How could he do this to you. After everything he promised, after everything he said. Tears well up in your eyes.

“I am sorry uncle, I must leave.” The words come out in a half blubbering.

You stagger down the hallway. Before slumping down in to an alcove. You let loose a sob and the tears begin flowing down your face. You tuck your head into your crossed arms. Your sleeves become a sticky, gross, sopping mess.

“Gods why,” You cry, “What have I done to deserve such cruelty?”

You feel a hand rest on your shoulder. You look up and try to pry open your swollen eyes.

“Here let me help you.” A voice whispers.

You feel a soft piece of linen move over your face. Clearing away the snot and wetness of your emotional devastation. You blink your eyes till they clear and see an unexpected face. Aemond. He sits down in front of you.

“Is it true?” You sob.

Aemond sighs, “Yes, my brother tells true, for once in his life.”

“How did it happen?” You beg him to tell you.

“After a feast, they were found tangled together in the dragon pit.” Aemond’s voice trails off, “The arrangement came after.”

Your heart dropped. You did not want to believe it true. If it were because of duty, it would be one thing, but Jace having desire for someone else broke you. Water drips from your lashes and runs down your cheeks. When suddenly your thoughts were cut short. Aemond’s hand slips under your chin and tilts it back. He touch is light and cool against your fiery skin.

“Let me take your pain.” He whispers.

You look at his parted lips and close your eyes. Your body guides you closer to him. You feel his lips press in to yours. They were as soft as heather. He moves nearer to you his hair falling to the sides of his face. His scent washes over you. You raise your hand and cup his face with your palm. He pulls back. You whimper at the comfort slipping away from you. A soft blush spread across his face.

“Aemond, I had no idea you felt that way about me.” You say in shock.

He laughs lightly, “After everything I’ve done?”

“I thought it in jest.” Your reply honestly.

He brushes his hand through his hair, “And now?”

“I venture to say your intentions are more serious than I thought before?” Your words have the air of question to them.

Aemond rolls his eye. You have never considered there might be truth to the prince’s word before, but now you saw an opportunity. Revenge. A devious smile creeps up on your face.

“What is it?” Aemond tilts his head.

You lilt your voice, “Aemond, would you be so kind as to escort me to the next feast. I wish to dazzle Jace with the brilliance he has now lost.”

Aemond grins, “It would be my utmost pleasure, Lady Strong.”  

[tobitofunction]

The Pact of Fire and Ice part 7

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part5 part 6

Spoilers for the future of house of the dragon, not a 100% accurate to the book

after a thousand years it updated again

You tighten your flight jacket around your body, "It's still not too late to stay here" Cregan said, "It's a fight of dragons, as a dragon I need to fight" you said turning towards him, he was in his armour his fur coat currently missing, he hummed and cupped your cheek,"I love your flight gear so much" he said placing his other hand around your waist, "You should walk around like this more often" he added kissing you gently, "I could say the same thing for you, the fur cloak his hiding to much of your armour" you said against his lips, kissing him again gently pulling at his locks "Don't tempt me now wife, we won't leave the bed for another week if you continue like this" he said as his lips ghost against yours,"My Lord?" a servant said gently," What is it" he said closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours," Aemond Targaryen took over Harrenhall and killed everyone within the walls" he said straightening his posture”Any word from Dragonstone?”,” They are preparing to use Aemond absent as advantage to take over Kingslanding and they want you to march as soon as possible” Cregan hummed,” Are the troop’s ready”,” Yes Lord, the Greyjoy and Manderly ships are also deployed to strengthen the sea snakes and help out to invade Kingslanding and destroy the Lannister fleet ” you turned to Cregan and patted his chest,"Well my Lord husband it's time, send worth to my mother that her army is coming" you said making the servant nod and bow before leaving. Cregan sighed and wrapped his hand around yours,"Off to war then".

You ended up deciding to ride your horse alongside Cregan. Tyraxes was flying alongside the winter wolves, high in the sky, she was just a blop in the bright white sky. “The roads are treacherous,” you said,” The north doesn’t have the privilege of the west wife, our harsh winters just keep destroying the roads so we don’t fix them, as it a waste of resources we rather put them elsewhere to good use” Cregan explained riding closer to you,” My men don’t find it a good idea to bring you along,” he said after a while,” Why not?” you questioned,” They believe you should stay in winter fell, swollen with a child,” he said softly, you sighed,” I suppose that was the deal of our marriage. I provided you with heirs in return for your help to get my mother’s crown back,” you said,” It’s different now however, our first born won’t be the Lord of Winterfell but heir to the Iron Throne,” he said,” Or daughter” you added making Cregan nod after a while,” Or daughter,” he said with a smile which you returned," I'm not bringing a child into this world until the war is over, I don't want to be pregnant while the danger of being assassinated by the greens is an option" you said which Cregan nodded at,"I agree with you on that one, also I'm scared of you carrying my heir" he said," My first wife died on the birthing bed with my son following in the days after",he said softly remembering the pain of losing his childhood love and first born child, he felt like dying in months after,"I'm scared too, losing children during pregnancy is common within my family, maester stated that each one of them had dragon like deformities, my sister had scales and a tale when she was born, I guess our blood is cursed" you said,"The Stark blood line isn't any different, I guess we can be cursed together" your cheeks heated up at that comment,"I guess we could". "My Lord it's getting dark and the men are tired" Greyjoy said,"Than we set up camp for the night".

You sat in front of the fire with Cregan sitting next to you, he was drinking some ale and talking to his men while we waited for the food to cook. You looked over your shoulder and saw Tyraxes, you excused yourself from Cregan and walked over to the large beast," Ao merbugon hāedar? (you hungry girl?)" Tyraxes lifted her head and pressed it against your body gently,"Nyke find nykeā tīkor hen ōtor syt ao hemtubis nyke kivio (

You sat in front of the fire with Cregan sitting next to you, he was drinking some ale and talking to his men while we waited for the food to cook. You looked over your shoulder and saw Tyraxes, you excused yourself from Cregan and walked over to the large beast," Ao merbugon hāedar? (you hungry girl?)" Tyraxes lifted her head and pressed it against your body gently,"Nyke find nykeā tīkor hen ōtor syt ao hemtubis nyke kivio (I find a flock of sheep for you tomorrow I promise)" you said rubbing her scaly head,"You need to teach me Valyrian" Cregan's said from behind you, one hand found it's way around your waist.While the other rubbed Tyraxes forehead," She still seems to like me which is good" he smiled,"Or tent is ready if you want to sleep" he added after a second, "I will, I just wanted to check on her, we need to find her food tomorrow, she will need all the energy when we fight the greens" you said, Cregan hummed.

You shed your riding gear and got into something more comfortable,"If you are looking to take a bath there is creek close by" Cregan said sitting down on a chair,"A creek?" you lifted a brow,"Yes, my dear wife we are off to war so we won't have our usual luxuries but you are always welcome to fly home" Cregan said,"I know what you are trying to do and it won't work, I'm coming with you. I will be in the creek....fish don't live there?" Cregan chuckled and stood up,"I protect you from the fish, I will go with you" Cregan said,"It also will stop my men from spying on you","Spying? Aren't most of them married?","Even a married man will stop to take in the natural beauty surrounding them" you licked your lips.

The water was freezing against your skin, you wrapped your arms around your bare body, you turned to Cregan and saw that he was unfazed,"Aren't you freezing?" he chuckled,"I'm a northerner darling, and you are a dragon" he said wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you closer,"Can i be honest with you?" Cregan's brow furrowed but he nodded,"I feel useless in this war so far, so many people have given their lives and I just hid in a castle for the majority, I didn't know my brother died, I didn't even know he went to battle, the same with my grandmother Rhaeny's. My mind is filled they could have been alive if I assisted them. Cregan listened carefully, his hand cupping your cheek,"You might not have fought with sword in hand but you forged alliances, you proved to the other Northern houses that your mother's side deserves their alliance when you faced your Uncle when he took our men hostage. Don't disregard yourself my dear wife" you sighed,"But they still rather have me back in Winterfell than fight alongside them" Cregan sighed as well,"That's different, men usually range wars while the women stay at home. Times have changed something I needed to realise too" he said before kissing your forehead,"You and your dragon will bring an advantage to us," he said pressing you closer to his body,”You look so beautiful, standing bare in nature” he said softly kissing your neck,”Cregan” you whispered softly,”Ever dreamed of making love in the wild” he said his fingers tracing your skin,”The men could see or hear us” Cregan hummed against your skin,”They won’t come near the river bank, I told them to stay away and for the hearing part that didn’t seem a problem back in Winterfell Princess” he said making your cheeks darken,” Than my Lord Husband, ravish me like a wolf does”

You spend days riding your horse, Tyraxes becoming more restless with each day, she was feeding of your energy , you nearly reached Harrenhall, even though Kingslanding is your goal a jab of taking it back is planned. “We will reach Harrenhall in two days time we set up camp here” Cregan explained as he stopped alongside his men, he helped you off your horse Tyraxes landed in the open space which made the ground shake a bit,” From now own I want you to ride your dragon, if Aemond is at Harrenhall by chance we need air support but if it gets to dangerous I want you to promise to fly away, back to Winterfell” he said grabbing your shoulder,” Cregan I can -“,” Promise me” he cut you off,” I promise” he nodded, caressing your cheek with his thumb gently and kissed your forehead,”My Lord your camp is set up”,”Let’s rest wife, we have long days ahead of us” Cregan said holding his hand to you.

“Aemond one eye is still at Harrenhall, we should avoid it and go around it to get to Kingslanding” Cerwyn said,” We need all the men we have to keep the city under our control”,” We are here so we should take over Harrenhall while we have the chance” Lord Bolton said leaning forward in his seat,” How would you suggest doing so? Aemond has Vaghar” Cerwyn says,” Even though, I didn’t agree with her presence first, it be to our benefit having the Princess here, she is the heir and a girl, they would assume she be hiding in the north-“,” her dragon is not even half the size of Vaghar” Lord Frey son interjected,” Tyraxes might be smaller but she is quicker and Aemond had the chance to kill me but didn’t, if we draw Aemond out on dragon back, we can surprise attack him with Tyraxes and me” I defend,” My brother promised you Harrenhall didn’t he? I thought you be eager to take it back from Greens my Lord” I said,” Than we have a plan, we take over Harrenhall beforehand we continue to Kingslanding” Cregan said and his tone didn’t leave room discussion.

I changed into my nightgown while Cregan read the letters of the Greyjoys and the Manderly’s,” Any news?” you asked walking towards Cregan,” They haven’t reached the Lannister fleet yet but they are ready and that’s all what we need to hear” Cregan said pulling you on his lap,” I need you to promise me something” you hummed and moved a piece of stray hair from Cregan face,” If Aemond tries to kill you, fly to Winterfell, Tyraxes is faster as you mentioned use it to escape if needs be” he said his hands on your belly,” Cregan-“,”Promise me” you sighed,” I promise….if I have to flee I want to make love to you, I don’t think be able to live long without your touch” you smiled

The next day you saddled Tyraxes, she gently nudged you with her snout making you smile,” Ready my girl?” you asked patting her neck,”Try to keep up with us, I know it be tempting to fly head first to confront your Uncle” Cregan said placing his hand on your waist,” I can’t believe everyone who called Harrenhall their home is dead now”,” Aemond will repent for his sins, he won’t survive to see the end of the war. He will die, but the hand he will die on is still in the stars” Cregan said cupping your cheek, you looked up at Cregan, you pecked his lips gently,” Let me help you” Cregan said helping you on Tyraxes,” Be careful and remain what you promised

[famousinuniverse]

Shoreditch High Street, London, England: Shoreditch High Street is the old main street of Shoreditch, London. It is part of the A10 road and connects Norton Folgate to the south with Kingsland Road to the north. It constitutes a segment of the Roman Ermine Street, which ran directly north from London to Lincoln and York. Wikipedia

[sgiandubh]

Recognize errors? Never! This person continues to dig up rubbish and give himself an air of authority.

https://www.tumblr.com/maximumwobblerbanditdonut/748236381973823488/landcons-propose?source=share

Dear Mythomaniac Anon,

This idiot simply cannot and will not make the logical difference between an event regularly organized by a third party and a one time side event to a fan convention, organized by the producer himself.

This is what The Fraud implies: S's price is unrealistic, therefore S is a crook. The argument?

Blink once and you would think this is hosted by the Macallan distillery, on their estate, right?

It is not - notice the tiny difference between the two screencaps with otherwise identical content?

Yup, you'd be correct: the tasting she is quoting is hosted, staffed and managed by a London restaurant, MAP Maison (321 Kingsland Road, by the way), which offers the same kind of experience/activity for a well-known Irish whisky brand, Bushmills. So, she lies on purpose, deceptively leading her clueless readers to believe the tasting she mentions is hosted and produced by the Macallan distillery itself. But, one more time: no expert from the Macallan distillery ever participated to these tastings - they are exclusively managed by the restaurant's staff. Something she conveniently left aside of her screencap.

Because she is not only a mendacious, but also a lazy twat, she just picked the first Google result for a simple general query: 'Macallan whisky pairing experience'

Perfectly unaware or indifferent to the fact the Macallan Distillery organizes its own experiences, at the very Estate - but that was the second result and maybe she was in a hurry?

Prices differ and vary from £ 35 (tasting at the Estate's Bar) to £250 (tasting and dinner at a local renowned brasserie) for the Macallan tastings and that was not really convenient, because we are getting closer to the price asked by S for his own tasting in Paris. He simply equated his direct presentation with similarly priced offers of other producers, such as Macallan. Cheeky? Perhaps. But the mommies paid in droves and he's laughing all the way to the bank.

But why would a self-proclaimed Scottish woman quote a London restaurant experience, instead of the local and authentic one organized by the producer? And what English native speaker would gleefully make enormous, almost absurd grammar mistakes like this one:

If this woman is a Scot, then I am Chaka Zulu, Anon. Nope. Not a chance in hell: I have been monitoring her for a good while now and she makes these mistakes quite often. This woman probably assimilated a couple of things the wrong way, while learning English as a foreign language, and she is simply mechanically reproducing the same mistakes over and over again.

I am not done with her yet. Just so you know, Anon.

[lunarmoonanons]

Little Rose

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Yandere Maegor x Tyrell reader. 

TW: Birthing scene. Most likely inaccurate. 

Sequel

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Masterlist 

YN tugged and played with the ends of her hair as the carriage road fast back to the Reach. Her father decided to ship her back home when they heard that King Maegor was searching for another wife, not wanting his youngest daughter to fall victim to the cruel king. 

YN was the youngest of all her siblings, all her sisters were married and had many children. She was rumored to be from a very fertile line of women. And Maegor was looking for a fertile woman to carry on his line. YN fathers would not have her subjected to a life of pain and forced breeding, not his small rose. YN had no objections, she loved Highgarden; the roses, the trees, the grass, everything. Kingslanding was too ugly. It was only her trip that caused her worry. Maegor would not be pleased to hear that fathers were sending their daughters from court. 

The carriage shook her occasionally as YN looked out the opening at the grass and sky. Peering for a large black dragon that would come down and snatch her away. Her aunt frowned at her fingers that tangled around the ends of her hair. 

“Calm down girl. We’re miles away from the capital, and besides, we weren’t the only carriage to leave. What would Maegor do? Hunt every family that left his bloody red keep?” Her aunt tried to reassure her. YN twirled her ends again. 

“That’s exactly what he’d do.” YN whispered, before turning to her aunt and grabbing her hand. “If he does find us, let him take me. I can’t let you get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, YN. I wouldn;t let that man touch you.” Her thought was interrupted by the shaking ground. A roar ripped through the sky, the carriage shook under the sound making YN jump in her seat. She dare not look out to see the monster that looked for her. YN’s aunt reached forward and pulled the girl into her arms, YN’s face flush against her neck and she smoothed her hair down. “Shush YN. Don’t panic.”

“He’s here.” YN whispered. 

And it was true. The air shook with a loud boom as Maegor landed Balerion the dread in front of the rose decorated carriage. His prize was seated there, she almost got away and he almost had to burn down all of Highgarden to attain her. But the beautiful rose was caught just in time, in an open road way. No real threatening guards were around her, the few that stood around ran at the sight of Balerion. Maegor scoffed, jumping down from his saddle and walking forward to the carriage. One door opened and his beautiful rose was pushed out by her aunt. The middle aged woman screaming for her to run, but her cries were silenced at the sight of Maegor and his sword. 

YN turned around just in time to see the Valyrian blade pierce through her aunt’s chest. “NO!” She cried, tears immediately slipping down her cheeks. He stepped toward her slowly, sword bloody in his hand, YN did not know whether she was going to be killed or assaulted by him. Both equally frightening her. “Are you going to kill me too?” 

“Not at all little rose. I want you alive for what I have planned next for us.” He reached forward and grabbed her smaller arm. Wrenching her forward into his arms, his grasp tight around her body. “You are beautiful. Just like your family is. You will give me beautiful children.”

With that he dragged the crying girl to his dragon, rolling his purple eyes at her fighting. She’d learn to accept her role as queen. 

~~~~

Months later, YN was largely pregnant. It had been 9 months of torture, and YN had her stomach to prove it. She didn’t look like she was carrying one child, but many. Maegor’s chest puffed with pride at the possibility of multiple children at once. YN begged the gods to let it only be one child, birthing one was something she could handle but multiple? YN didn’t think she could handle it. 

Once her pregnancy was appearing to last longer than any of the others, she became his most favored queen. He had roses imported from Highgarden so that the gardens of the keep would be familiar to her. But nothing came without a cost, each gift had the looming threat of ‘I gave you what you want, now give me a son.’

Today was another day YN spent looking over the waters from the garden, the prickling eyes of the guards watched her closely. Her hands absentmindedly rubbed her protruding belly. Trying to calm her restless child, or children. They kick so much nowadays. 

“Please be a girl. Just one girl. Please.” YN begged whatever god was listening. Suddenly there was a pain from her stomach, and the feeling of trickling water dripped from between her legs. YN leaned forward in pain, she wanted to call the guard but another pain kicked through her. 

With a yelp from YN, she fell to her knees from the quickening pain. They weren’t happening in between minutes like her sisters said it would, but in between seconds. The guards rushed forward, clocking the water on the ground and rushing her to her rooms. The pains kept coming quicker and quicker, and it felt like something was falling down from her womb. YN managed to get to her rooms when the first child started to make their way out. A maid had rushed forth and grabbed the babe when it fell from her legs. 

A little boy screamed and cried in her arms. YN couldn’t enjoy the birth of her son as another contraction of pain ripped through her. The second babe came as quick as his brother did, the two cried and screamed in the warms of the maids. The final child took longer to arrive, the pains lasted around an hour or two, but it felt like years. Finally with a cry, YN pushed out a little girl. She tried to look at her children as the afterbirth was forced out of her womb. 

Finally YN fell back onto the bed. Stomach still round, and legs aching. She reached for her children as the maids placed her two boys beside her and the girl on her chest. YN sobbed in relief as the babies stared with large eyes at their mother. She was spared the looks of the guards as her maids smiled and chuckled with joy for her. One rubbed her son’s head, as another placed a wet cloth to YN’s forehead. But her joyous moment did not last, as her husband barged into the room and barked at the maids to leave. He came forth and picked up both boys, glee on his face. 

“You’ve done so well my rose. Two boys, what an achievement.” He flickered his purple eyes down to the baby girl that rested on YN’s chest. “And a girl. You are quick perfect.”

“I am relieved that it is finally over.” YN breathed. 

“For now. I’ll need more boys soon. We can’t let our line fall.” Maegor declared. Ignoring her fresh tears that welled her eyes. YN didn’t know if she could survive another round of this, and if this was to be her life then she didn’t believe in the gods anymore. 

This wasn’t fair.

[drymushroomfics]

Fraye Hill of House Lannister

Next

Chapter One

   Fraye Hill was basically the ward of Jamie Lannister. On a trip, Jamie had found her as a baby on the side of a gravel road. He could've killed her but something inside of him couldn't do it. He brung her to Casterly Rock before his sister had married King Robert. They all urged him against it but he fought to have her raised with the Lannisters. She remained at Casterly Rock until Joffrey was king.

            She stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the Lannisters; all golden blonde while her hair was black as night. She was raised with privilage even though she was not a Lannister. She loved to read and Tyrion Lannister read to her a lot as a child. They got along well and she knew she could always count on him. Tywin Lannister, on the other hand was a a bit harder to get a long with. Even though he scolded her, he knew how smart she was. She took to any task he put in front of her. She read a lot about war and battle. She was great at battle tactics. She had asked if she could assist in army affairs but he refused. He had stated that ladys do not concern themselves with swords and battle. He had even tried to marry her off when had turned 16 but she refused. He was angry for a while but told her that she had until the age of 19. If she had not married by then, he would see to it that she had to do as he choosed. She had agreed reluctantly. It angered Cersei Lannister. She hated being forced into marriage and she hated even more that Tywin didn't force you right away. Cersei didn't love Robert but she loved her children.  Fraye wasn't liked by Joffrey either. He had always hated her. He called her a rat and said she belonged in the trenches. She never liked him either. He was a spoiled brat who didn't understand who lucky he was. Now that he was king and her 19th name day was approaching, Joffrey would force the worst person upon her. He knew of her agreement to Tywin and the fact that he had promised a celebration for her name day, she knew nothing good would come of it.

             Fraye was known to be devilishly beautiful and had many marriage offers but she refused all. She refused to marry anyone she didn't feel something for. Now that her name day was approaching, she'd have to choose fast. That's where Kingslanding's Guard dog came in. She had seen him as soon as she arrived. He was standing beside Joffrey's throne. They had looked at each other. Something about him intruiged her right away. She wanted to know his story and she was going to find it out.

a/n: This is my first Sandor Clegane fic. I'm using an original female character. There will be themes of rape/non-consent and violence at times. I'm open to suggestions and let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy!

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for chapter- mention of arranged marragie, pregnancy, 18+ words and themes overall. Slight angst.

// A/N: just wanted to apologize for the broken links at the beginning of the book since i changed my username they haven’t been working but i assure you I’ll get to fixing them. I will also end up making a goggle docs with the entire book for downloading when this series ends//

Previous chapter here

Chapter 16

“My lady?” joss asks you as you look out the carriage window. He sits across from you in the carriage. 

“We're nearly there.” he says again. 

“Mm.” you answer eyes glued to the outside world. The ground changes from dirt road to cobblestone as the ride becomes smoother. The view of the grassy field becomes blocked with the white stone building of the entrance to the castle. Sooner than later the carriage comes to a stop. You look forward to joss. Before the carriage doors open a footman holds out his hand to you helping you out of the carriage before joss follows. 

“OH my daughter!” You mother exclaims running down the path way before wrapping you in her arms as soon as possible you hug her back. Your father hurries to you as well, hugging you and wrapping arms around you. 

“My darling girl.” He says your mother wipes tears from her eyes. As you pull away. 

“Oh look at you, the weather has gotten to you. Oh come in and take a bath my love!” she says. 

“W-wait mother. This is joss a squire in kingslanding, he kept me safe.” you say 

“Your majesty.” joss bows. 

“Thank you, my boy. See to it that he has his own room, a warm bath and a hot meal tonight you understand.” Your mother orders the servants. 

“Lucinda will take care of you.” your mother says holding out her hand to reveal your previous head lady in waiting before cersi interchanged them. 

“Lucy!” you exclaim as you two join in a hug. 

“I thought you were dead. After cersi interchanged you all.” you say your eyes are scanning her. 

“No, my lady, she did us that much service, me, I returned here after i was dismissed i will always serve house vixen.” She says you smile giving her another hug before she helps you inside the castle door with your mother, father, joss and servant following. 

—------

You sit in the hot bath water clean from the rugged journey over the seas. Lucinda arranges your clothes as you relax your eyes closed. 

“My lady is with the child then.” she speaks, blinking you out of your haze.

“Y-yes.” you reply. 

“Is it his? Your ser husband, ser clegane?” she asks. You nod. 

“Apologize if this is above me your highness but…did he treat you well the last I knew he left you alone in the bed chamber unconsummated.” she says you sigh. 

“He treats me very well, Lucy, saved me when kings landing was falling. We got separated but he promised he’d find me. I'm happy to have a piece of him with me even if it's not in the best circumstances.” you say putting your hand over your stomach.

“Have you visited a maester yet, your highness? The journey was long. I want it in your best interest to be well.” she says. 

“I won't have a maester poking about me but, if you could arrange a midwife to inspect me I would be most grateful.” you say smiling up at her. She nods happily.

“May I ask you something?” you ask. 

“Of course m’lady.” She says to arrange your things when you're done bathing. 

“Do you have anyone?” you ask. She nods and smiles looking down. 

“The baker's boy, the one who works here in the castle.” she blushes slightly which makes you smile. 

“Have you courted?” you ask wanting to know all the details as you haven't had a real female friend in however long. 

“Oh no. He um…he doesn't really know I exist” she bashfully smiles. You sigh, sinking back into the tub.

“Hmm well you have my full blessing at least i could be a part of one romance rather than my own.” you reply she smiles and nods. You sit up, rinsing off one last time before standing up and getting out. She helps you dry and dress before leaving you heading to her own chambers for the night leaving you alone in your room. 

You walk over to the mirror turning to your side not seeing a bump yet but it's only been a month or so. Your hand runs over your stomach that is hidden by the night dress you wear. You look up into the mirror at your own face. The only thing you want more than any child in the world is for your husband to be standing behind you, leaving kisses on your cheeks and neck. Your eyes well up with tears and a slight pang of fear costumes your heart as you realize just how much you miss him. 

—-----

The day breaks and with it brings light streaming into your room illuminated with color from the stained glass windows. You lay on your side as your eyes flutter open the side of the bed empty. You reach out running your palm along the silken sheets not realizing how far to the side you're having gotten used to sandor large body in the bed. 

You take a breath before sitting up. Confused at first as to why you aren't being bombarded with your ladies in waiting but then remembering you aren't in king's landing anymore, you are home. You look to the side seeing the braided decorative rope that leads to the bell in the ladies chambers. You reach over and take hold of it pulling on it slightly ringing the bell. 

You exit your bed running your fingers through your hair as you walk to your vanity and take a seat in front of the mirror. You take the extra alone time to begin brushing your hair. The doors soon open and your ladies walk in curtseying to you. As they choose out which dress you’re to wear for the day. 

You get dressed in silence, your mind clearly filled with anything else but your princess duties.

“Your highness?” one speaks 

“Hm?” you ask blankly. 

“Your mother, the queen, has asked you to join her in the throne room this afternoon after you eat.” She speaks. You nod curious for what it's about but also not necessarily caring for what your mother plans for you to do. You finish getting ready before heading to the dining hall to eat breakfast.

—------- 

A chair is moved out for you as you take a seat and scoot up to the table once more before breakfast foods are placed infront of you. You stare into the plate of food having lost your appetite all of a sudden.

“How was your knight my darling?” your father asks of you. You don't answer until he clears his throat and asks the question once more. 

“S-sorry um…yes. Very well.” you answer. 

“No worries my dear you must be tired from your journey.” he smiles and continues to shove his face with a pastry. The doors open and joss walks in now cleaned up, presumably fed, and in a new squire garment. He takes his place behind you against the side window panel. 

You give him a small smile he nods to you before you look back down at your food. The doors open once more and your mother walks through talking to a man, by the looks of his wears and the people he who follow his every move hes a prince. 

“Good morning my love.” you father stands to your mother kissing her cheek as you stand up as well a small wave of imbalance washing over you before you regain your stance. 

“My dear you're awake. This is prince Marco veiled of mantarys he’s visiting for the month.” your mother smiles at the man who seems way to handsome to be real ofcourse with your heart directed on someone else you have no interest in him. 

“Your highness pleased to make your acquaintance. W-when her majesty told me you had returned home safely i thought nothing but your safe recuperation.” He says giving you a slight bow. 

Your eyes dart to your mother as the smile grows larger on her face. 

“I've brought the young prince here so you two can better know one another before you take part in the marriage ceremony on the last month's day.” she squeaks in excitement as both the prince and her smile.

“M-my love…” your father falters at the announcement confused himself. Your face drops and an uncomfortable silence fills the room. 

“What?...” you voice breaks as you leave off the question. 

“Y-you and prince marco are betrothed of course i had set it far in advance as you've just returned and you two can bond…” she trails off repeating herself. 

“Im not marrying him.” you state out. 

“And why not?” your mother asks. 

“Beaucse I am already married!” you exclaim knowing that they got the letter along with your brothers head sent to them. 

“That evil bitch cersi marrying you off to a low class knight man is not match for a princess” you mother retorts. 

“Are you perhaps short of a marble or did you forget that when cersi sent dortains head along with the note of my marriage to that low class knights man. They sent you his head in a box with the pig shipment, that's how little they thought of him!” You exclaim standing at the table. 

“And they married you off to a half charred brute from the north! They married you off and took your womanhood, your manners, they took everything from us, from you!!” She yells. You swipe your dining wear off the table causing the metal and glass to clatter to the floor beneath you. 

“AND YOU SENT ME THERE!! YOU SENT HIM THERE! THIS IS NOT MY FAULT! IT IS YOURS!” You scream out. It’s quiet in the room as your father stands about to speak.

“You don't think I do not remember hoping that your head wouldn't be sent next then! You will marry prince marco!” your mother interrupts your father as she yells to you. 

“I WILL FUCKING NOT! SANDOR CLEGANE, THAT IS THE NAME OF MY LORD HUSBAND AND FATHER OF MY CHILD AND IF YOU SELL ME TO THIS NEXT PRINCE I WILL LEAVE AND NOT COME BACK!” you yell back to her. 

“DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU TO GO THERE'S NOTHING BUT MILES AND YOU ARE HERE YOU ARE HOME!!” Your mother yells you become silent staring at her tears falling down your cheeks. 

“..home.” You scoff she nods reaching out for you but you step back. 

“I am not home, mother. I-I will not marry you my prince I am already promised to another excuse me..” you say to the man before turing to walk out of the room hearing your mother and father calling for you to come back harshly but you ignore them. 

Continuing your walk out. Your balance slightly off as the numbness of emotions slightly off.  Joss follows a few steps behind you worrying about your current state. You begin to slow down from your fast pace, your hand resting on your stomach as you feel the lump of emotion you’d been suppressing. Until you finally come to a stop. Taking in a shaky breath. 

Your tears fall down your cheeks as you cry still standing in the hall. 

“Your highness?” Joss asks 

You ignore him as you whimper letting out a sob. 

Next chapter here

Taglist @stephyshadows@germansarechill@urfavbiscuit@daphneyblue@takemeaemond@holb32@allison-119@pxstelink@imsolonelyimissyou@myshitaccount@broadsdrinkwhisky@@evie-beanie@eulysa23-2@greeknymph18@rudiruds@ex160-blog1@im-an-assho1e@chompwoman@heartb8k2@lovely--lover ex160-blog1 @midnightprocrastinator

[federer7]

Sandringham-Road-Kingsland-High-Street-10.42am-11.37am. London. 15thJune 2009

Photo: Chris Dorley-Brown

[marytunno]

-read below-

THE WOODS HER ONLY HOME

Hot Pie was practising the bird calls Kurtz had taught him before, before he had left them too, the wound on his shoulder taking him in a fever.

- Shut it!- grunted Gendry, he had been helping Lommy walk since a lance had broken and pierced his leg.

- I’m a blackbird…- explained the boy trying to keep up 

- Well, you just sound stupid!- said Arry, the little crying girl following him like a shadow.

Hot Pie bit his tongue and kept going, he didn’t want to fight with Gendry or Arry, they were the only ones that hadn’t left him or Lommy behind.

 In those brief moments when they forgot about their quite tragic situation it was almost nice being together. If they had met before leaving Kingslanding they could have been friends, he would even have given some of his mother’s pies to them… he didn’t even remember how those tasted like… the only taste in his mouth the foul one of acorn paste… 

A sound through the woods. 

- That was a good one, Pie! Were you trying to be a thunder?- spoke Lommy, his dirty hair sticking to his pale forehead

Hot Pie blushed.

- It was his stomach, stupid…- explained Arry

- Well, I’m hungry! If only you listened to me… we will die if we keep walking circles in the woods, if we go on the road maybe…- 

-No!- said together Gendry and Arry, sometimes it seemed they thought with the same one brain.

- But why? We did nothing wrong…- started Lommy - If only Yoren had yielded to the guards nothing bad would have happened! If we ask for help they will give us food or maybe…- 

Gendry stopped for a moment and looked at his blonde deadweight

- Maybe they kill us - he said more tired than actually annoyed 

- But my leg hurts and we are starving, there are wolves everywhere and we are probably lost!- continued the blonde boy

- We are not lost!- Arry turned around and looked straight at the others

- And if you are so hungry you could eat some bugs or worms, I could dig them up for you!-

Lommy made a disgusted noise, there was no way he would have eaten one of those disgusting little things.

- You can keep those for yourself wormbreath… we should look for an inn where they can make us real food! Ouch…- 

Lommy now sat with his ass on the ground.

- Why did you do that, Bull?- cried the boy 

-I’m tired and you are getting heavy…- spat Gendry 

- Maybe we can stop for a while to rest…- tried Hot Pie ready to let his body fall to the ground, he saw Arry and Gendry look at each other, one of their silent conversations.

- Fine…- said Arry - But we’ll have to walk some more before nightfall…- 

The sun was still high in the sky, its light piercing through the leaves turning the ground into a constellation of lights and shadows. Lommy had closed his eyes but kept complaining in his sleep, Hot Pie had placed a hand on his friend’s forehead, it was burning like an oven, that wasn’t good. 

- Where are you going?- asked Gendry, his eyes on Arry

- I’ll be back in a second…- he explained with an annoyed tone

- What about the little girl…- 

- Well she is not crying now… and she is distracted playing with that rock… she’ll survive a second without me!- said Arry hurrying away

- Where do you think he is going?- sked Hot Pie

Gendy had a weird expression on his face, he probably was thinking about something, he always made that face when he was thinking. 

- Probably needs some quiet and peace before having to deal with you all again…- he said flatly 

- But he is going to be back, right?- 

Gendry scowled and rolled his blue eyes.

- Of course… Arry doesn’t leave anyone behind… but if you keep talking I will and you’ll have to help Lommy walk yourself!- 

Hot Pied swallowed his next question and stretched himself on the ground for a moment, waiting for Arry to return.

Arya went back to the other as quickly as she could, a smile on her lips. 

- Fucking finally!- grunted Gendry, he seemed a little distressed holding the little girl from the ground, Arya almost laughed, it was clear he had never been around babies much during his life.

- She was eating dirt again…- he explained holding the girl toward her direction as if to say that now that was Arya’s problem.

Arya smiled as softly as she could at the little one, she must have felt so confused and scared, so young without her mother… 

Arya made the little girl spit on the ground what had been in her mouth, some dirt, a leaf, the rock she had been playing with before.

- Like that, little one…- she said, using her hand to clean the small face… The girl complained a little bit but in the end she left Arya clean her up. 

- You are good at this…- Gendry was now looking at them 

- I mean with babies and…- he continued his trail of thoughts out loud 

- I’m good at a lot of things…- answered Arya meeting his gaze, the sounds of the woods the only thing around them for a moment. 

- And you!- Arya went back to focus on the young girl - You can eat only what I give to you! No more dirt!- the baby just made a little shriek and hugged Arya as she often did. 

- You are being so loud! I need to rest!- complained Lommy, his face so pale he hardly looked alive. Arya felt too sorry for the boy to talk back at him… she had no idea what she would have done if she had got hurt… wounded wolves rarely survived for long.

- I have good news if you care to hear it…- she said catching everyone’s attention 

- Not much from here I found some trees… they had crabapples on them… if we go there we can have some…-  

Hot Pie jumped on his feet, the weariness from the long walk forgotten.

- You sure it’s not dangerous? Could be part of a farm or something…- started Gendry 

- I say we go!- stated Lommy 

- I saw no one there and there wasn’t a wall around the trees… sometimes the seeds just travel in the wind… I think it’s safe. - 

Gendry nodded, some food would have been good for them, it was worth the risk.

Arry had climbed barefoot on the tree making the green fruits fall to them, they were sour and in some they found some worms but for a moment they had felt like kings before a banquet. 

Gendry had helped Arry down from the tree, not because the small boy needed his help but like, he did it just to do something nice. Arry finding some food had been the first good thing happening to them in a long time.

- What?- Arry’s voice woke Gendry from his thoughts, he had been looking at the small boy cutting a crabapple in smaller pieces to help the little girl eat.

Gendry looked at him confused.

- You were looking at me…- he said, his grey eyes waiting for an answer, not many people had grey eyes in KingsLanding

- And? Is it forbidden?- he joked taking a bite from his crabapple, sour but still good. 

Arry just blinked and then shrugged.

- I just thought you wanted to ask me something, I don’t know…- the conversation died there.

Lommy knew a cool trick where he could catch a piece of fruit after he had thrown it into the air, Arya had tried to do the same but her crabapple had fallen on the ground instead… she had eaten it anyway and the little girl had laughed at it… it was nice… the sound of laughter… 

- You think she had a name?- asked Arya after a while looking at her little friend jump around the roots of the tree

- Maybe…- said Hot Pie 

- Her mum died without telling us tough…- continued the boy, some sadness in his small eyes 

Arya sighed, she knew that look, she missed her mum too… 

- We should give her a name…- proposed Arya thinking about the way Sansa had been so good at naming her dolls… Arya knew good names too… she had learned most of them from old Nan’s stories… 

- Why?- asked Gendry

- Well, she is not crying anymore… we can’t keep calling her crying girl…- explained Arya as if it had been obvious 

- To me, she looks like a little weasel, we should call her that…- said Lommy, his leg was now resting slightly raised on a stone

Arya frowned 

- That’s unkind! She looks nothing like a weasel!- 

- I can see it...- 

- Shut up Hot Pie!- continued Arya, she wondered if the little girl understood what they were talking about, it had hurt being called Lumpyhead or Wormbreath by Lommy…

- Hey Weasel, come here! I can give you an apple!- continued Lommy catching the girls attention 

- I think she likes it…- he said 

-Am I right Weasel?- smiled Lommy giving her the crabapple, she started sucking on the peel all happy

Gendry noticed Arya’s pout, she had been biting her lip too 

- Can you think of a better name?- he asked

Arya’s mind for a moment filled of names, names she had loved, names she missed, names she wanted to call again… 

-Err…- she started

-Then Weasel it is…- Gendry ended the discussion and then moved a bit on his right to leave some place for Arya to sit with her back to the tree trunk.

- Fine…- she said sitting close to him, Weasel was better than “crying girl” anyway.

After a while Arya felt Gendry’s eyes on her again, she gave him a questioning look.

He sighed and then whispered under his breath 

- I can’t keep carrying Lommy…- he seemed almost sorry about it.

- But, you are strong… you can! You are saying this just because he is annoying you!- whispered back Arya keeping an eye on Weasel walking toward them with some grass between her small fingers

-I’m not… at first he could at least walk a bit… carry his own weight… but now it’s getting worse…- 

Arya looked at him for a long moment 

- What are you saying? That we should leave him behind?- she scolded him 

- If he keeps complaining maybe we should…- answered Gendry, he wasn’t serious, Arya was sure he was just tired. 

- There has to be a way! We are not leaving him!- 

Gendry sighed, of course Arry was being stubborn about it, whoever had called Gendry bullheaded had never met Arry. 

- Why do you care? He called you mean names and he is never useful…- he said looking at Arry 

- Please! It’s just the right thing to do… Yoren would have wanted us to stick together… It wouldn’t be right to leave someone behind, he needs our help… don’t you think I know I would reach my… I’d be faster on my own? But we have to stitch together!- 

Gendry nodded at those words and looked at the trees around them 

- We could make a stretcher with what we find around… carry him like that… - he finally said, it would have been easier with someone helping him

Arry smiled so nicely and for a second a weird thought crossed Gendry’s mind.

The idea of the stretcher had been a good one and the next day they carried Lommy in turns, always walking north, under the sun during the day listening to the wolves howl at night. Sometimes they fought and felt hopeless but sometimes things could be good and in those moments they could let themselves hope that there was a good ending to their journey: that Lommy wasn’t going to die as Yoren and Kurts and too many had died before, that Hot Pie was going to taste his mum’s pies again, that little Weasel was going to grow up safe and with people that cared for her…

But it didn’t last for long, and now Lommy lied dead, his blood staining the grass, Arya, Hot Pie, Gendry walked toward death, a hopeless march under banners painted with dogs… and little Weasel ran, ran and kept running, the woods her only home.

Some missing moments with the gang... I love so much the way Arya protects little Weasel in the books and I really hope she is still alive somewhere being the little feral dirt eater we all love so much<3<3