The Lost Dragon XIV - Lingering.
Summary:
Aemond and Vaelys have returned to Kings Landing to attend a celebration in honour of their son's birth, Aemond takes an instant dislike to Cregan and later he reveals his deepest fear.
Warning(s): Nightmare, Angst, Apology, Language, Insults, Jealousy, Possessive, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut -Breeding Kink, Lactation Kink, P in V, Proposal.
AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word Count: 5788
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9
The skies ablaze with dragon fire and the air thick with the scent of death. Aemond watched helplessly as Vhagar, burst through the clouds and devoured Lucerys.
His heart heavy with sorrow, Aemond watched as Helaena Targaryen, was forced to make an impossible choice— Jaehaerys or Maelor? His heart breaking at his sweet sisters scream of anguish as her son was killed.
The scene shifted, and Aemond found himself standing in the courtyard of the Red Keep, surrounded by the sound of the desperate pleas from prisoners. His hands, slick with blood, trembled as he carried out executions with ruthless efficiency, each blow a painful reminder of the cost of war.
The funeral of his nephew, his body wrapped in the shroud hand stitched by Helaena, his little hand clutching his favourite dragon toy.
His own decent into darkness, the cold grip of ruthlessness had seized him and refused to let go.
And then, the fall of Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys at the Battle of Rook's Rest—the gruesome bloody show of the dragon’s severed head paraded through the streets of Kings Landing.
His brother Aegon, injured and vulnerable-as Aemond found himself being crowned Prince Regent, tasked with ruling in his absence.
Alys Rivers, the witch of Harrenhal-her eyes dark and inscrutable as she beckoned to him with a knowing smile. Aemond was drawn to her, unable to resist the magnetic pull of her presence.
As they drew closer, the nightmare twisted into a grotesque parody of intimacy, with Alys wrapping herself around him in a macabre dance of seduction. Aemond's heart pounded in his chest as he watched himself become ensnared in her web, his every instinct screaming for him to break free, to flee from the darkness that threatened to consume him.
But in the nightmare's cruel grip, Aemond was powerless to resist, his will subsumed by the allure of desire and pleasure. And in the throes of passion, he surrendered to the darkness, his actions driven by impulses he could neither comprehend nor control.
As the nightmare continued to unfold, Aemond watched in horror as Alys grew round with his bastard-a son with no name.
Then he saw her-Vaelys, her eyes wide with fear as he stood before her, his own hands wrapped around her throat. He watched in horror as his grip tightened, squeezing the life from her with a brutality that tore at his soul.
The dark version of him, had no love for her-in this world she had been responsible for the death of his brother Daeron, unflinching as she bathed him in dragon fire during the second battle of Tumbleton.
"No-" Aemond's voice broke, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he recoiled from the sight before him. But in the depths of his nightmare, there was no escape, no respite from the anguish that consumed him.
As Vaelys' lifeless form crumpled to the ground, a primal scream tore from Aemond's throat.
His nephew Maelor torn apart by a mob of common folk, the decent of his siter into madness and her fall from the window’s of Maegor’s Holdfast.
In the skies above the God's Eye, the air crackling with the energy of impending battle. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course through his veins as he soared through the clouds astride Vhagar.
But his exhilaration was tinged with dread as he spotted the silhouette of another dragon, its massive wingspan blotting out the sun. It was Caraxes, ridden by his uncle Daemon, a formidable adversary with a reputation for ferocity and skill.
As the dragons clashed in a deadly dance of fire and fury, Aemond felt a cold knot of fear tighten in his chest. The air rang with the deafening roar of their flames, the ground below a blur as they circled each other in a deadly game of cat and mouse.
Aemond's heart pounded in his chest as he urged Vhagar onward, his mind consumed by a primal instinct to survive at any cost. But as he looked up, his eyes widening in terror, he saw something that chilled him to the bone-a flash of steel glinting in the sunlight, the deadly point of Dark Sister, his uncle's legendary Valyrian steel sword, aimed straight at him.
With a strangled cry of horror, Aemond tried to veer away, to escape the deadly trajectory of the blade. But it was too late, he felt the sharp point of Dark Sister pierce his remaining eye, driving through flesh and bone, agony engulfing him as the blade tore through his skull, its tip emerging from the back of his throat.
With a gasp, Aemond jolted awake, his heart racing in his chest as he struggled to shake off the lingering tendrils of the nightmare. Beside him, Vaelys stirred, her presence a comforting anchor in the darkness.
Trembling, Aemond reached out to her, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of her silver hair as he pulled her close, seeking solace in the warmth of her embrace.
As the dawn's light filtered through the windows of their old chambers in Kings Landing, Vaelys watched with a heavy heart as Aemond stirred fitfully in his sleep. She could see the lines of worry etched upon his brow, the restless toss and turn of his body betraying the torment of his nightmares.
With a sigh, Vaelys reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from Aemond's forehead, her touch light and soothing against his skin. "Aemond," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle caress in the stillness of the morning, "You haven't been sleeping well. Your nightmares-are troubling you."
Aemond's eye fluttered open, the weariness evident as he gazed up at Vaelys with a mixture of gratitude and resignation. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I can't seem to escape them, no matter how hard I try."
Vaelys' heart ached at the sight of her husband's anguish, the weight of his nightmares a burden she could scarcely bear. "You don't have to face them alone, Aemond," she reassured him, her voice filled with quiet determination. "I'm here for you, always. We'll face them together."
With a tender smile, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close in a comforting embrace. "We'll find a way to ease your troubled mind," she promised, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Whatever it takes."
"Aemond, perhaps the maesters could offer something to help with your sleep," she suggested softly, her voice laced with a mixture of hope and apprehension. "Maybe some dreamwine, to ease the burden of your nightmares."
Aemond's expression softened at her suggestion, a flicker of gratitude crossing his weary features. "It's worth a try," he conceded, his voice tinged with a note of resignation. "Anything to find some relief.”
"I'll speak with Maester Garrick, when we return to Dragonstone-but for now you must try and get some rest" said Vaelys, her voice filled with resolve.
Aemond turned to her, his gaze filled with gratitude and weariness. "I'll try, Vaelys," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But the nightmares-"
Vaelys shook her head, her eyes filled with determination. "You don't have to face them alone," she assured him, her voice firm yet gentle. "Let me be your anchor in the storm”.
With a sigh, Aemond nodded, allowing himself to relax into her embrace. As Vaelys wrapped her arms around him, she felt the tension drain from his body, his breaths slowing as he surrendered to the comfort of her touch.
Gently, she began to stroke his hair, her fingers tracing soothing patterns against his scalp. "Close your eyes, my love," she murmured, her voice a tender lullaby in the darkness. "I'll be right here beside you, every step of the way."
As Vaelys continued to stroke Aemond's hair, she felt the tension gradually ebb from his body, his breathing growing slow and steady against her chest. With each gentle caress, she whispered words of comfort and reassurance, her voice a soothing balm against the turmoil of his troubled mind.
And then, gradually, almost imperceptibly, she felt Aemond begin to relax into sleep's embrace. His eyelid fluttered closed; his features softened by the peace of slumber.
Vaelys held him close, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man who had captured her heart. She pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, silently vowing to stand by him ,to be his rock in times of storm and his beacon of light in the darkest of nights.
As Aemond finally succumbed to sleep's gentle embrace, Vaelys felt a sense of profound relief wash over her. In his arms, she found solace and strength, a sanctuary from the cares of the world.
And as she held him close, nestled in the warmth of their shared embrace, she knew that together, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead, united in the unbreakable bond of their love. With a whispered prayer for peaceful dreams, Vaelys closed her own eyes.
As Aemond watched Vaelys gracefully slipping into her light red gown, his breath caught in his throat, stunned anew by her radiant beauty. The delicate fabric hugged her curves, the colour complementing the warmth of her skin, and he found himself unable to tear his gaze away.
"Vaelys," he murmured, his voice tinged with awe, "You look absolutely breathtaking."
Vaelys turned to him, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips as she caught the admiration in his eyes. "Thank you, my love," she replied, her voice a melodic whisper. "I wanted to look my best for the celebration."
Aemond couldn't help but chuckle at her modesty, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of her. "Well, you've certainly succeeded," he said, his tone affectionate.
Vaelys laughed, the sound like music to his ears as she stepped closer, her hand reaching out to trace the line of his jaw.
Aemond's heart swelled with love for the woman before him, his fingers intertwining with hers as he drew her into his embrace.
And as they shared a tender moment together, bathed in the soft glow of their love, Aemond knew that there was no greater treasure in the world than his wife.
Vaelys met Aemond's gaze with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, her lips curling into a playful smile. "And what of your beauty husband" she teased, her voice laced with affectionate sarcasm, "I know there are ladies at court who will glance at my husband. With his long flowing silver hair, his reputation as a great swordsman, and let's not forget, the rider of the largest dragon in the world."
Aemond chuckled at her jest, a warm glow of pride spreading through him at her words. "Ah, yes," he replied, a hint of amusement in his tone, “They can look all they want but they'll quickly learn that my heart belongs to only one."
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "And she's standing right in front of me," he added, his voice filled with sincerity. "The most beautiful woman in all the Seven Kingdoms."
Vaelys' cheeks flushed with colour at his words, her heart swelling with love for the man who had captured her heart. "Flatterer," she teased, but her eyes sparkled with genuine affection as she leaned into his embrace.
As they made their way through the quiet hallways of the Red Keep, Aemond couldn't shake the sense of unease that gnawed at him. He could feel the tension radiating from Vaelys beside him, her usual poise marred by the weight of their surroundings.
He stole a glance at her, taking in the furrow of her brow and the tightness of her jaw, and he knew without a doubt what troubled her. This was the first time she had set foot in King's Landing since the argument with her mother, Queen Rhaenyra—a rift that still lingered between them, a wound not easily healed.
But this celebration, in honour of their son Aemon, demanded their presence, and Aemond understood the necessity of putting on a united front for the sake of their family. Still, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the discomfort it caused Vaelys.
"Are you alright, my love?" he asked softly, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "I know this must be difficult for you."
Vaelys offered him a small, reassuring smile, though he could see the tension still lingering in her eyes. "I'll manage," she replied, her voice tinged with resignation. "For Aemon's sake."
As Aemond and Vaelys entered the grand throne room of the Red Keep, the opulence of the surroundings seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the warmth and joy that filled the air. Aemond cradled their son, Aemon, in his arms, the babe’s amethyst eyes wide with wonder.
Vaelys walked beside him, her hand intertwined with those of their other children, Sovia, and Daevyn, who beamed up at their parents with excitement.
The room was alive with music and laughter, the sound of lively conversation mingling with the strains of a cheerful melody. Tables laden with sumptuous food and drink lined the walls, inviting guests to partake in the feast laid out before them.
“Vaelys-over here” said Helaena brightly as he patted the empty chair next to her.
“Hel-where are the children?” asked Vaelys as she sat down.
“Daeron has taken them to visit my mother-“
At the mention of Alicent, Vaelys looked at Aemond who busied himself with making sure Aemon was covered with his blanket.
“She keeps asking for him” whispered Helaena.
“It’s Aemonds choice-” replied Vaelys.
“I know-“ muttered Helaena softly.
“Sovia-please don’t do that” scolded Vaelys as she caught her daughter pulling at the ribbons in her braided hair.
“But mama-” complained Sovia pursing her lips together.
“Listen to your mother byka grēges” said Aemond (Little bug).
“Daddy-nyke ȳdra daor raqagon ziry” replied Sovia (I don’t like it).
Vaelys smiled slightly as she took a sip of wine, any minute now Aemond would cave in and undo the braids in their daughters hair. Her silver curls had always been wild, and she barely tolerated anyone even brushing her hair.
Rider of the mighty Vhagar weak for his daughter.
“Let me take them out then” muttered Aemond handing Aemon to Helaena so he could lift Sovia onto his knee.
“Avy jorrāelan” whispered Sovia (I love you).
“Softie” whispered Vaelys as Aemond rolled his eye as he began undoing Sovia’s braids.
As the revelry filled the throne room, Queen Rhaenyra rose from her seat at the head of the room, her presence commanding the attention of all who gathered there. Her gaze swept over the assembled guests, her expression one of regal pride and affection.
"My lords and ladies," she called out, her voice ringing clear above the din of conversation, "I would ask you to raise your glasses in honour of a joyous occasion—a celebration of new life and boundless hope."
As the room fell silent, all eyes turned to the queen, their attention captured by her words. With a graceful flourish, Rhaenyra lifted her goblet high, the golden liquid within catching the light as it sparkled in the dimly lit room.
"To Prince Aemon Targaryen, my grandson" she declared, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity, "May his future be as bright as the flame of his ancestors, and may he bring honour and glory to House Targaryen for generations to come."
With that, Rhaenyra took a sip from her goblet, the sound of applause erupting around her as the guests followed suit, offering their own toasts to the newest member of their family.
As Rhaenyra's toast echoed through the grand hall, Vaelys raised her goblet with a strained smile, her eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. The weight of the past argument with her mother still hung heavy in her heart, casting a shadow over the joyous occasion.
Sensing her discomfort, Aemond reached out beneath the table, his hand finding hers in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Their fingers intertwined, a silent reassurance passing between them as they shared a moment of quiet understanding amidst the revelry.
As the festivities continued to swirl around them, Vaelys felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, drawing her attention to her brother, Jace, who stood beside her with a warm smile.
"Vaelys," he said, extending his hand to her, "Would you do me the honour of sharing a dance with your dear brother?"
Vaelys returned his smile, her heart lightening at the sight of him. "Of course, Jace," she replied, placing her hand in his with affectionate familiarity. "I'd be delighted."
Together, they made their way to the centre of the room, where couples twirled and spun to the music. Jace guided Vaelys with practiced ease, their steps falling into rhythm with the lilting melody that filled the air.
Vaelys smiled up at her brother, grateful for this moment of connection amidst the whirlwind of the celebration.
As they danced, they talked about their children, Jace giddy with excitement as he spoke of his daughter Laena, a precious little thing she was, the pearl of his world.
Out of the corner of her eye, Vaelys spied their brother Luke reclined lazily against his chair, he looked rather exhausted, but given the fact that his wife Rheana had recently birthed twin girls, it made sense.
“Mayhaps Luke should retire for the night” laughed Jace.
“Oh, come on brother-you know what the nights are like with a babe” replied Vaelys smiling.
Jace returned her smile, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "I think you look beautiful tonight, Vaelys," he said, his voice filled with brotherly pride.
Vaelys' heart swelled with love for her brother, her own smile widening at his words. "Thank you, Jace," she replied, her voice soft with emotion.
As the music swirled through the grand hall, a familiar figure caught Vaelys' eye—Cregan, his tall dark form standing out amidst the throng of guests. With a warm smile, he approached her, his gaze earnest as he cleared his throat.
"Princess," he began, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of nervousness, "Would you do me the honour of sharing a dance with an old friend?"
Vaelys' smile widened at the sight of him, her heart lifting at the prospect of dancing with Cregan once more. "Of course, Cregan," she replied, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I'd be delighted."
As they embraced in a brief hug, Vaelys felt a surge of happiness at seeing her friend again after so long. The bond they had shared during their time together had always held a special place in her heart, and she was grateful for this chance to reconnect.
Together, they stepped onto the dance floor, their movements fluid and graceful as they moved to the rhythm of the music.
As Vaelys danced and conversed with Cregan, a sense of lightness and joy enveloped her, temporarily shielding her from the weight of her worries. However, as she glanced over her shoulder towards Aemond, her heart sank at the sight of his furious expression.
Aemond's gaze was fixed on her, his features contorted with anger. Vaelys' stomach churned with apprehension as she felt the tension radiating from him, a sharp contrast to the warmth she had felt dancing with Cregan.
Concern etched into her features, Vaelys excused herself from her conversation with Cregan, her steps faltering slightly as she made her way towards her husband. She approached him cautiously, her heart heavy with worry.
"Aemond," she murmured softly, reaching out to touch his arm, "Is everything alright?"
Aemond's jaw clenched visibly as he tore his gaze away from her, his anger palpable in the air between them. "Was that Cregan Stark?" he demanded, his voice low and tense.
Vaelys swallowed hard, her throat dry with apprehension. "Yes-“ she replied, her voice tinged with unease.
Aemond's expression darkened further at her words, his fists clenched at his sides. "I don't like the way he was looking at you," he growled, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper.
Vaelys' heart sank at the realization of Aemond's jealousy, a pang of hurt piercing her chest. She had never seen him like this before, consumed by such irrational rage.
"Aemond, please," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "There's nothing between us. He's just a friend."
But Aemond's fury remained unabated, his gaze unwavering as he continued to glare at her with undisguised resentment.
“A friend that you were almost betrothed too”.
"Aemond, please," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "Cregan was a good friend to me while you were in exile. He offered me support and companionship when I needed it most. There was nothing more between us, I swear."
Aemond's jaw clenched, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. "Oh, I'm sure he was a good friend," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But just how good of a friend was he, Vaelys?"
His words struck her like a blow, and Vaelys felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. The insinuation that she had been unfaithful to him cut her to the core.
"Aemond, how can you say that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You know that I would never betray you. You are the only one I love."
But Aemond remained unmoved, his expression hardened by suspicion. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe," he retorted, his voice laced with bitterness.
“You know what believe what you want” snarled Vaelys as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the throne room.
After entrusting the care of the children to Ceci, Aemond went to find Vaelys.
Lost in his thoughts, he rounded a corner and nearly collided with Cregan, who stood before him with a cool expression. Aemond's jaw tensed at the sight of him, his possessive instincts flaring to life in an instant.
"What are you doing here?" Aemond demanded, his voice sharp with suspicion.
Cregan raised an eyebrow, his demeanour calm but tinged with a hint of challenge. "I could ask you the same question," he replied evenly. "But I suppose it's none of my concern."
Aemond's grip tightened on his fists, his jealousy simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't play games with me, Stark," he growled. "I know what you're up to."
Cregan's gaze hardened, his own temper beginning to fray. "And what, pray tell, am I up to?" he shot back, his voice laced with frustration.
"You're trying to come between me and Vaelys," Aemond accused, his words laced with venom. "But let me make one thing clear—she's mine, and I won't let anyone take her from me."
Cregan's eyes flashed with anger at the implication, his own temper flaring in response. "I have no interest in your wife, Aemond," he snapped, his voice sharp with indignation. "But if you can't see past your own insecurities, that's your problem, not mine."
The tension crackled between them, a palpable force that seemed to fill the corridor with its intensity. Aemond glared at Cregan, his chest heaving with fury and frustration, while Cregan met his gaze with unyielding defiance, refusing to back down in the face of his aggression.
As Aemond's anger simmered, he glared at Cregan, his possessiveness over Vaelys flaring to life with renewed intensity. "Don't try to deny it," he spat, his voice thick with resentment. "I know you were close to her when I was in exile. You think I don't see the way you look at her?"
Cregan's expression hardened, his jaw clenching with frustration at Aemond's accusations. "You're mistaken, Aemond," he replied evenly, his tone firm. "Yes, Vaelys and I were friends during your absence. But our relationship was purely platonic. I care for her deeply, but not in the way you seem to think."
Aemond scoffed, his disbelief palpable. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You were practically betrothed once. What's to stop you from trying to steal her away from me now?"
Cregan's gaze softened, his frustration giving way to pity. "Aemond, you don't understand," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "Yes, Vaelys and I were once almost betrothed, but that was long ago. We've both moved on since then. I befriended her during your exile because she needed support, not because I had any ulterior motives."
Aemond's jaw clenched, his jealousy still burning bright despite Cregan's assurances. "And yet, here you are," he shot back, his tone accusatory. "Hovering around her like a vulture, waiting for your chance to swoop in."
"Do you realize what you've done, Aemond?" he demanded, his tone biting. "This celebration was supposed to be for your son, a joyous occasion to celebrate his birth. But your jealousy has ruined it."
Aemond's jaw tensed, his own anger flaring at Cregan's words. "I am not jealous," he shot back, his voice defensive. "I just-I want to protect what's mine."
Cregan scoffed, his disbelief evident. "Protect what's yours?" he mocked; his tone laced with scorn. "From whom, exactly? Me? The truth is, Aemond, your insecurity is what's driving a wedge between you and Vaelys. And frankly, it's pathetic."
Aemond's fists clenched at his sides, his temper flaring at Cregan's taunts. "You have no right to judge me," he retorted, his voice sharp with indignation. "You don't know anything about our relationship."
Cregan's lips curled into a sneer, his contempt for Aemond evident in his gaze. "Oh, I think I know plenty," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all, when one has to kidnap a woman in order for her to marry him, then your insecurity can't be helped."
Aemond's eye widened in shock at the barb, his face flushing with embarrassment and rage. He opened his mouth to respond but found himself speechless in the face of Cregan's cutting words.
With a final look of disdain, Cregan turned and walked away, leaving Aemond seething with anger and humiliation. And as Aemond stood alone in the empty corridor, the weight of his own insecurities pressed down upon him like a leaden cloak.
As Aemond stormed through the corridors of the Red Keep, his heart heavy with regret and determination, he searched frantically for Vaelys. Every step echoed in the empty halls, a stark reminder of the chasm that had opened between them.
Finally, he found her in the library, her form illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. She was engrossed in conversation with her brother, Luke, their heads bent close together in whispered conversation.
With a sense of urgency, Aemond approached them, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Vaelys looked up as he drew near, her expression guarded as she met his gaze.
"Aemond," she greeted him coolly, her tone betraying none of the warmth he had grown accustomed to.
"Vaelys, may I speak with you privately?" Aemond requested, his voice strained with emotion.
Luke's eyes narrowed at the request, his lips curling into a sneer as he glanced at Aemond. "And why should she speak with you, after the way you've treated her?" he retorted, his voice dripping with disdain.
Aemond's jaw clenched at the implication, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. "This is between Vaelys and me," he replied evenly, struggling to keep his temper in check.
Luke chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head in disbelief. "You truly are an idiot, Aemond," he remarked, his voice filled with contempt as he brushed past him.
Aemond's fists clenched at his sides, his heart heavy with despair as he watched Luke leave the room. He turned back to Vaelys, his gaze pleading as he searched her face for any sign of forgiveness.
But Vaelys remained silent, her expression unreadable as she regarded him with a mixture of disappointment and resignation.
As Aemond stood before Vaelys, his heart heavy with remorse, he took a deep breath, steeling himself to apologize. "Vaelys, I'm sorry," he began, his voice soft with sincerity. "I shouldn't have said those things, and I shouldn't have doubted you. I let my jealousy get the best of me, and I regret it more than anything."
Vaelys looked at him with incredulity, her eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. "You're sorry?" she scoffed; her voice tinged with bitterness. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound, Aemond? How could you even for one minute think that I would ever look at another man? I'm married to you, Aemond. I've birthed three of your children. And yet you still doubt me?"
Aemond's heart sank at her words, the weight of his own insecurities pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket. "I know, Vaelys," he replied, his voice tinged with desperation. "I know I messed up. But please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything in this world, and I would do anything to make things right between us."
As Aemond stood before Vaelys, the weight of his insecurities pressing down upon him like a heavy burden, he took a shaky breath, steeling himself to confess his deepest fear.
"Vaelys," he began, his voice barely more than a whisper, "I-I'm afraid."
Vaelys' brow furrowed with concern as she gazed at him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. "Afraid of what, Aemond?" she asked softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm.
Aemond swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "I'm afraid-that you only love me because of what happened between us," he confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. "That somehow, our love isn't real. It's-it's almost like an illusion."
Vaelys' heart shattered at his words; the pain evident in her eyes as she took in the depth of his insecurity. "Aemond, no," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "That's not true. Our love is real, I swear it. It's not based on what happened in the past. It's based on us, on who we are together."
Aemond shook his head, his gaze filled with self-doubt. "But how can you be sure?" he pleaded; his voice laced with desperation. "How can you know that it's not just some twisted result of me kidnapping you?"
Vaelys reached out and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes locking with his as she spoke with unwavering conviction. "Because I know you," she declared, her voice steady with determination. "I know the man you are, and I love you for it. Our love is real, Aemond, and nothing will ever change that."
Tears welled in Aemond's eye as he looked at her, his heart overflowing with emotion at her words.
As the tension between them began to ease, Aemond mustered a small smile, his eye twinkling with mischief. "Now that we've finished arguing," he quipped, "Does that mean we get to make up?"
Vaelys couldn't help but laugh at his cheeky remark, her heart lightening at the sight of his playful demeanour. "Given the severity of our argument," she replied with a teasing smile, "There needs to be a lot of making up done."
Aemond's grin widened at her response, his gaze filled with warmth as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. "I'm up for it if you are," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire.
Vaelys' cheeks flushed pink at his suggestive tone, her heart fluttering in her chest at the promise in his words. "I think I can manage that," she replied, her own voice tinged with anticipation.
“Aemond” gasped Vaelys her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
“That’s it ābrazȳrys, take every fucking inch of me-let me fill your sweet cunt” (Wife).
“Oh, please Valzȳrys. I want it. I want all of you” moaned Vaelys (Husband).
“FUCK” roared Aemond as he hauled Vaelys away from the bookcase and placed her the edge of a desk.
“Yes-Yes Aemond, Oh gods” breathed Vaelys.
“I love you-I love you so fucking much” growled Aemond as he mercilessly fucked his wife, filling her over and over again with sharp penetrating thrusts.
“Aemond-yes, right there. Don’t stop-don’t stop” cried Vaelys the tears running down her pale cheeks.
“That’s it Issa jorrāelagon. Come on daddy’s cock” rasped Aemond lurching forward and wrapping his lips around one of his wife’s erect nipples.
Suckling greedily as her mother’s milk flooded his mouth, he reached down and began expertly circling her pearl with his long fingers.
“AEMOND” screamed Vaelys her entire body seizing before going slack and pliant.
“FUCK-I’m going to come-“ groaned Aemond.
“I want it-fill me with your seed Issa dārys” gasped Vaelys (My King).
“FUUUUUCK” roared Aemond, his head thrown back as rope after rope of his seed spilled inside his wife’s cunny.
“Aemond” breathed Vaelys as her husband collapsed on top of her.
“I love you so much-“ replied Aemond.
“-And I love you. I never want you to doubt my love, no one will ever compare to you-my soul mate”.
“Issa idañnykeā perzys” muttered Aemond (My twin flame).
“Husband” breathed Vaelys as she slid her hands into his long silver hair and pulled his face towards hers.
“Wife” replied Aemond as he pressed a kiss to her soft lips.
As they basked in the warmth of their reconciliation, an idea began to form in Vaelys' mind, a way to prove to Aemond once and for all that their love was real and unshakeable. With a spark of excitement in her eyes, she turned to him, her voice filled with determination.
"Will you marry me?” asked Vaelys.
Aemond's brow furrowed in confusion. "We’re already married," he pointed out, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Vaelys shook her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I know, but marry me in the ways of old Valyria," she explained, her voice soft but determined. "On Dragonstone. On our beach"
Aemond's eye widened in surprise at her suggestion, his heart swelling with love and admiration for the woman before him.
With a trembling voice, he finally found the words to respond. "Vaelys," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, "I-I would be honoured to marry you-again”.
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Promising love in flames
Daeron Targaryen (son of Viserys I) x wife!reader
warning : emotional, character death, kissing, hurt/comfort, daeron is the only one of his brothers who is normal and doesn't suck in the fic, no use of y/n
Summary : Daeron the only heir to the green throne before his niece Jaehaera was the last hope that the throne could still be held. Even after the many defeats, his older brother sat crippled but still alive by the iron swords. But the second battle at Tumbleton was imminent and it seemed that Daeron and his wife would only be able to see each other one more time before death appears.
info : It's a shame Daeron isn't in the series i like him even though his death is such a mystery and like everyone i just feel sorry for everyone during the war. I inflicted myself with emotional damage sadly. I hope it doesn't hurt too much to read this, have fun anyway :)
masterlist
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The war was raging over Westeros and especially in King's Landing and the surrounding villages and towns at its worst. Houses had already been wiped out, more people died every day than from the plagues of disease it was miserable everywhere.
People were starving, and if they didn't starve they died of the pharynx, and if the fire didn't cure them it was the sword of a saw or a rope around the throat.
They all died in one way or another. The blacks behind Queen Rhaenyra had already lost the poor princes and thus the queen's children as well as the rough prince doc nevertheless they did not give in they still had reserves and the Nord who still played a role gave everything he had in men and resources under Cregan Stark. Every dragon seed was used for the remaining dragons or other positions.
But similarly, each house tried their best to help the now injured and crippled King Aeon the Second and protect his last child, his daughter, but their hopes lay with the former Queen Alicent's youngest child after the moon was killed by his uncle.
Daeron Targaryen third son of Viserys the first the youngest of his siblings a young man of sixteen years but with the courage and determination to unseat his stepsister and continue to hold the throne. But this was also the only dragon the greens had left after the collision of the dragon pit by the people.
Tessarion and his rider Daeron were the last hope for the greens, his mother, his brother, his niece, the people and above all the young prince was the hope and light of his wife.
Shortly before the outbreak of war, the marriage had been arranged with the first daughter of Lord Peake, a girl of his age, not only politically, because of the countries and the men's discrimination, it seemed as if there was a certain tragedy behind it.
It was a chilly morning in the sept of King's Landing when the royal lady arrived with Lord Unwin Peake. A daughter in a dark dress of her family was already standing at the entrance next to her father, a man who was proudly dressed.
His daughter was bound to the prince of the realm, the winning side, and that meant favor and respect for a good marriage from the point of view of the players.
She remembered the fear she had that he would not like her, that she would not like him as she walked the path to Atlar past the royal family to which she would soon belong. But her husband, the prince of the kingdom of Daeron stood there a cloak green with gold the clothes decorated with dragons which met her bronze with the towers. ,,My lady, I am delighted to see you," he had murmured to her, taking her hand gently, it was his softness that set him apart from his brothers and his dreamy sister. It seemed that Daeron was the good coin of the Targaryen.
It was then, in the few moons they had together found peace, that they truly took a liking to each other. He was always willing to prove to his brothers that he was just as strong as them, just because his dragoness was the smallest of the adults.
But it was always like this as soon as he came back to her and he became soft, poetic and above all loving. His kisses were always gentle never hard and harsh like a dragon he was just the picture of a good prince.
She had a loving dragon with a sense of duty and who fought for his family and took them on flights into the sky and to uncharted cities with his dragoness Tessarion. ,,Only you surpass the sky in your beauty my lady" were just a few of the compliments he paid her. He was soft, showed her things that only a prince and princess couple could do, let her tinker with things and she let him listen to old stories from valyria while he held her in flight.
It was a marriage that was childless at that young age but it was a marriage that was politically correct and they both got to know each other better. Until the time they were called to the council and the news of the war came, ,,I will do my duty brother my life is dedicated to the crown" he had said first without hesitation and she held his hand.
It was his loyalty and duty to which his brothers were committed and always needed. He looked into the violet eyes of determination as they were sent off to Oldtwon that very evening.
He served his kinsman Lord Hightower and always reassured her that everything would be all right, ,,I'll protect you with my life, my love," he murmured over and over when he found her weeping bitterly.
She was afraid of losing her family, afraid of losing her Daeron…but by that point her husband had earned the title of Daeron the Daring and won the first victory in Tumbleton.
It was a victory that was celebrated, a victory she looked forward to with a pounding heart as she waited in his tent, which was guarded. She ran longingly into his army and he held her again.
He always held her even now in the year one hundred and thirty after aegon's conquest when the second battle of tumbleton took place and the attackers took her by surprise. it was a knowing that it was over.
They just had to listen outside, ,,Yet this day was so beautiful," she heard him murmur as the prince rose from his chair by the battle plan, the simple golden crown on his head removed. His eyes were violet with disappointment, love and relief.
His wife got up from the two-seater and put down her wine. In her dress she always looked like a beautiful queen to him. ,,Tessarion seemed so free," she admitted and looked outside, the tent flap fluttered every now and then and they knew what was going on outside. They could not withstand such an attack.
He nodded yes, his Tessarion seemed very happy on their morning ride together, spitting beautiful blue flames, circling calmly and cuddling her rider and his wife. ,,She loves flying like we do," he said and held out a hand to his wife, who accepted it.
His violet eyes looked at her despite their young age, they seemed to have aged. Daeron's hair slightly tousled and still with soot damaged here and there by the fires, his beloved's dress beautiful and yet with splashes of blood as she too had seized crossbow and sword to defend herself until Tessarion killed the attacker.
Her eyes showed her youth but her body was tired of it, ,,Duty my daring prince you were too good for this damned bloodshed" she said and laid her head against his chest.
His heartbeat, though relatively fast, was not full of fear, his hands trembling slightly around her. His lips kissed her forehead and his fingers made her look at him.
Tears had gathered in her eyes as the screams grew louder and she felt the warmth above the tent. The tent where they had spent the last days and weeks. A beautiful tent where they shared love, kisses and emotions.
But he wiped away the falling tears, kissing her cheeks gently as he always did, ,,I love you from the day I saw you. I couldn't be more grateful and proud," he told her with a soft smile that made her lips evenfalsl into a smile. Her sniffles mingled with silent tears of pride as he heard the cry of his dragoness she heard the words in Valyrian he commanded his beloved dragoness to fight one last time and fulfill her duty.
It was Vermithor and Seasmoke in the sky when they heard Tessarion rise with a scream and flames engulfed the tent only moments later. The heat slowly increased the blood increased the death increased. Their end came closer. ,,You were a good being, loyal and daring…thank you Tessarion," she heard him say as the blue flames of his dragons engulfed the tent and the prince seemed unafraid of the flames of his family, even if his own eyes watered. His favorite memories slowly burst into flames around them, a nice contrast to the beauty of his wife.
She liked the flames of Tessarion, the blue was pretty, the dragoness was beautiful and Daeron was gentle, it seemed almost soothing to die in his arms surrounded by the warmth of the pretty color of the cobalt blue, the violet of her dear Daeron's eyes and his light hair. ,,Will it hurt?" she asked nevertheless as the flames began to engulf the furniture and wooden beams and it grew closer and more inescapable.
A question they both knew would only do so for a moment before they would die in each other's arms. ,,Just for a moment, my love, but I'm with you," he promised, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and joining their hands together.
They were still beautiful and in love, they were everything majestic there was in this hellhole. They were eternal in the stages of history and each other's hearts and that was what mattered.
Blue flames crawled across the ground slowly touching their clothes and Daeron's cloak the dragons on his cloak began to burn their towers began to glow. It was getting hot just below the surface, but all only for a moment it seemed to go away.
They sang to each other, ,,I love you so infinitely with my heart that we may be together again in the endless journey," tears of fear and love flowed down the cheeks of the young royal couple as they joined for one last kiss.
Before the blue dragon fire flames ignited their bodies the love burned but the couple smiled softly into the kiss. Received death with love and courage and should be written in the history books of the masters yet to be read.
Prince Daeron died in his wife's arms and she died in his arms, sharing one last kiss before the flames of Tessarion's loyalty put an end to them. It was the most beautiful and tragic image the Dance of the Dragons produced, but it was a love for eternity. The love between a true prince and his lady wife. Together forever beyond the mortal world, bound by the love in their hearts.
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