#aegon targaryen fic

[aemondsbabe]

Anniversary

summary: swimming & face fucking || you and aegon relax at a snowy cabin in winter town for your first anniversary

pairing: modern!aegon x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, i love him idk, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy day four of 12 days of smuff!! surely this counts for swimming they are at least in some water lmao

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @gameofthronesdaily!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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You let out a soft sigh and relax further into the balmy water, letting your eyes slip shut as wafts of steam warm your face, which contrasted nicely with the cold mountain air that blew in breezes all around you. Your lips can’t help but curl up into a soft smile as bubbles gently break across the surface of your bare skin, tickling slightly as they rise to the surface of the water. 

“Okay,  you were right,” Aegon rasps next to you, his signature soft smirk audible in his words, “Maybe celebrating our anniversary in Winter Town wasn’t such an awful idea.” 

You blow a huff of laughter through your nose as you crack open an eye to peer at him — watching as he lets out a contented sigh, head tilted back against the lip of the hot tub, along with his stocky arms. Your eye opens a bit more as you let your gaze linger for a second longer, taking in the soft pink blush smattered across his full cheeks and the way silvery strands of hair stuck against the top of his forehead from the steam billowing up off the surface of the water. 

“Better than Dorne?” You tease, letting your eye slip shut once more. 

You hear him let out a soft laugh next to you before he sighs happily again, “Better than Dorne.” He agrees, voice strained as though he were speaking through a stretch. 

The two of you stay that way for an indiscernible amount of time, minutes seeming to blur together as jets massage every inch of you. 

Suddenly, you feel the water seem to shift around you and you open your eyes, smiling when you see that Aegon has chosen to move much closer, his shoulder nearly bumping against yours. 

“Hi,” you say simply, peering up at him through your lashes before you turn and lay back against him, your back against his side. 

He quickly readjusts and hooks both of his arms around your middle, his hands resting idly just underneath your breasts. “Hey,” he chuckles, tilting his head to press a soft kiss to the damp hair at the top of your head, “Come here often?” He teases; you can practically feel his chest swell with pride as you laugh against him. 

“As it just so happens, this is my first time,” you reply, tilting your head back to look up into his violet eyes, “Although, I happen to be on an anniversary vacation with my boyfriend.” Your smirk quickly turns into a pleased hum as he cups your breasts in his warm hands, your nipples hardening as you arch your back enough for them to rise out of the warm water. 

“He sounds very lucky,” he rasps, savoring your gasps as he kneads the fat of your breasts, eyes glimmering at the whimpers you let out every time his thumbs skim across your nipples. 

You reach a hand up and twine your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. “He tells me quite often he is,” you breathe before tugging his face down to yours and hungrily pressing your lips against his. 

Both of you sigh into the kiss, your lips moving together lazily, unhurried. Aegon groans above you when he feels your tongue brush over his bottom lip, his hands grasping tighter to your breasts as he parts his pouty lips and lets you lick eagerly into his mouth, a gesture he happily returns as your tongues languidly swirl together. 

The two of you kiss for a while, moving against one other leisurely, each of you drinking down the other’s small noises of pleasure. 

Before too long, though, Aegon started to become restless and you smiled into the kiss when his touches became more desperate — harder, more incessant. You squeak against his lips when one large hand comes down and suddenly cups your center, already bare from when you’d both decided to forego swimsuits. 

“Wait!” You breathe, sitting up and disentangling yourself from your boyfriend’s arms. 

“Everything okay?” He asks with concern, one eyebrow quirked up. 

You can’t help but smile, endeared at his concern, although you quickly correct yourself with a sly smirk before you lean in and press kisses in a trail, starting at his chest and working your way up and over his collarbone and neck until you reach his ear. 

“Just want you in my mouth…” you tease, biting your lower lip as you pull back just enough to peer into his eyes.

“That can be arranged,” he says around a gruff laugh before tilting his head toward the sliding glass door that leads back into the small, cozy cabin you’d rented for the weekend, “Shall we head inside?”

You nod with a small giggle as you pull yourself from the bubbling water, squealing playfully when he takes the opportunity to smack a hand against your ass. The two of you quickly skitter inside, the cold air instantly nipping at your skin. 

You sigh a sigh of relief as you make it into the cabin, happy to be out of the cold breeze. Aegon makes quick work of the sliding door, quickly locking it into place before he takes one of your hands and leads you to the soft leather sofa in the middle of the room, a pleased smirk on his face. 

“I believe someone said something about getting their mouth on me…” he said, quirking his head to the side in mock contemplation as his hands settled on your hips; he presses a soft kiss to your lips before plopping himself down on the couch, one hand wrapping loosely around his already half-hard cock as he stares at you expectantly. 

You merely give him a playful eye roll before sinking to your knees between his thighs, the plush fur rug cushioning your knees from the wood floors of the cabin as the heat from the small fireplace in the corner of the room warms your back. 

He meets your gaze with a groan, tongue darting out to wet his lips when you place your hands on the tops of his thighs; the hand around his cock relaxes at his side. 

You lean in and press soft kisses to the light trail of hair that leads down from his bellybutton, taking your time before softly licking at the head, a pleased hum bubbling up from your throat at the salty taste of his pre-cum. 

“Fuck,” Aegon sighs above you, dark eyes nearly black as he watches you gently lick and kiss around the tip of his cock, “That’s it.” He praises when your lips wrap around him and eagerly suck him into your mouth. 

You groan softly, relishing the heavy weight of him on your tongue, before you begin bobbing your head. You wrap one hand around the base, stroking what little of his considerable length you can’t fit into your mouth, as you look up at him through your lashes, your eyes scanning over the pale planes of his chest before locking with his eyes once more. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he huffs above you, pushing a stray lock of hair out of your face, “So beautiful with my cock in your mouth, hm?” 

You nod as best you can, eyes watering slightly as the head of him pokes against the back of your throat. You can already feel his length twitch in your mouth, feeling cocky as you cup his stones with one hand, smirking when you find them already tightening up as you roll them gently in your hand in a way that makes Aegon’s head tilt back with a loud, drawn out groan. 

You move against him for a minute more, your other hand gripping at the top of his thigh as lewd wet noises fill the cabin. He can’t help but curl in on himself slightly when you run your tongue over that one sensitive area at his head, a hiss leaving his lips as one hand cups the back of your head. 

“Seven Hells,” he mutters, swallowing thickly before just barely canting his hips up, eyebrows furrowed in a silent question as his eyes meet yours, “‘M close, princess, please — fuck!” 

You can’t help but giggle around his length, nodding the best you can. He makes a soft sound of relief before the hand at the back of your head tightens in your hair; you steel yourself, groaning as he begins rutting his hips up into your waiting mouth. 

He lets out a beautiful whining groan above you, relishing the way his cock slides so easily in and out of your mouth as his tip prods deliciously at the back of your throat. 

“Shit,” he grunts, guiding your head down at the same instant he snaps his hips up, watching intently as your eyes roll back into your head, pleased at how you seem to enjoy this just as much as he does, “Gonna cum down that pretty throat, fuck.” He warns, gripping tighter at your hair as he starts to lose himself. 

You nod as best you can, sealing your lips around his cock a bit harder, squelching noises filling your ears as you choke around his length. Tears spring to your eyes as he thrusts a handful more times before his hips still, cock buried down your throat for a second as he all but growls above you. 

Pride fills your chest as you feel his length twitch against your tongue, the heady taste of his spend fills your mouth as you swallow around him, careful to breathe through your nose. 

After a moment, the fingers in your hair relax, allowing you to pull yourself off of him with a soft pop, smirking as you press soothing kisses to the insides of his thighs before you push yourself off the floor, wiping a hand across your mouth as you join him on the sofa. 

“I take it you enjoyed that?” You ask softly, chuckling at the soft moan that sounds from his throat as you straddle his legs, your breasts pressed up against his warm chest as you settle yourself in his lap. 

“You are goddess,” he murmurs, half-lidded eyes peering up at you as his hands come to rest on your hips. 

You merely chuckle as you card your fingers through his hair, gasping as he pulls you to him, violet eyes flicking up to yours before he runs his tongue over one of your nipples, sealing his soft lips around the bud for a moment as he suckles it into his mouth. 

“Aegon…” you breathe above him, whining as his hands sink down to cup your bum, pressing you harder against him still, as if he can’t be close enough to you. 

“Give me ten minutes and I’m yours,” he promises roughly, nose digging into the fat of your breast as he busies himself against your chest. 

You sigh softly and pull him up, slotting your mouth against his.

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[elliewlums]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 [𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐢]

pairing: aegon targaryen ii x fem!reader

summary: aegon seeks comfort from you

content warnings: implied nightmare, a lil bit of crying, a whole lot of hurt/comfort, feelings ugh

no judgements i beg i have a soft spot for emotionally crippled emos. also i know this will flop but i had an idea and ran w it so i’m committed. and as always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

“y/n…”

you roll over at the rasping voice in your doorway. “mmh.”

the door creaks as aegon pushes it closed behind him; steady footsteps advance on you as your body naturally unfolds to make room for his broadness. you feel his heat, the blankets lifting at the corner as he works his way into your side; you shuffle over in the king sized bed, already knowing what he desires.

he needles his way beneath your arm and sniffles. his bare torso is cold against your own warm skin.

“come here,” you murmur, not wanting him to catch a chill. your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you cradle his cheeks, all the while dotting tender kisses against his face, damp with tears. “what is it, hm?” he shakes his head, reaching to twirl the ends of your hair in his large fingers.

you sit up, propping yourself against the various pillows and coaxing him up into your arms.

his head lolls as he gazes up at you through blonde lashes, almost invisible until the sunlight catches them. your own hand travels up to brush stray strands of hair out of his face.

“what did you do to my guard?” you giggle. aegon’s brows knit until a deep crease forms in his porcelain skin. you smooth it with the pad of your thumb.

“i just… suggested he take a walk.”

“at two in the morning?”

a beat of silence follows. your smile slowly fades as his lips part to speak.

“do you love me?” a question often asked; one often unanswered by the person he craved to hear it from the most.

“i do. more than anyone.” you pinch his chin, not meanly, just enough to encourage his eyes to yours in the dimly lit chambers. “i swear it.”

you press a sweet kiss to his lips, pushed into a gorgeous pout that makes you giddy with affection. “do you love me?” you ask. a rebuttal.

he nods shakily; then again, firmer. “more than anyone.”

“good,” you say. his eyelids start to drop as he settles in your arms and presses his nose to your neck. you press lips to the top of his head as his cheek squishes against the juncture of your shoulder. his fierce grip around your waist borders on discomfort.

“gentle, aegon.” you murmur. he mumbles something indiscernible but loosens his hold nonetheless. his flaxen tresses fall around his face in a halo and soon his breathing evens and deepens. it’s not long before you’re exhausted as well.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

From Her Knees

❝either we're smoking, or we're drinking, or we're at each other's throats. ❞

Summary: You're in a toxic relationship with Aegon.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Unnamed Female Character (no Y/N)

Word Count: ~1.5 k

Author’s Note: This is a rewrite of an old fic for a different character, but it fits Aegon so well that I had to write it for him. I hope that you enjoy it! As always your support through a reblog or comment is appreciated!

Warnings: alcohol use, language, p in v intercourse, oral (m receiving), mentions of previous domestic abuse, they are so bad for each other.

“You don’t do anything, Aegon!”

That was true.

The words she screamed at him usually were. He knew that, of course. That’s why it pissed him off so much. She was always right and she rubbed it in his face every single time. He had been home less than an hour after the shittiest day and she was already gunning for him.

“When am I ever here?” He spat. “I’m never fucking here! And when I am here, I have to listen to you bitch, and moan, and complain, and I’m fucking sick of it!”

That was also true.

He was almost always working; bearing the cross of being his father's son, forced to live a life he despised. It was exhausting, and draining, and all he wanted to do was come home and rest for the few short hours that he had before he had to get up and do it all over again. She’d never let him, though.

“Oh, you’re sick of it? Boo-fucking-hoo, Aegon,” she threw her hands up in the air. “What are you going to do? Leave? You tried that before, remember? It didn’t work.”

She was right again. How many times had they broken up? They had probably been separated more times than they had actually been together. He broke up with her the night before over something equally as futile, and yet, here he was again.

He just couldn’t stay away.

“You’re such a fuckin’ bitch!” He yelled. “You know that?” 

Yeah, she knew. She always had been and he always knew it. Yet, he stayed, she stayed. The two couldn’t stay away from each other.

They were moths to a flame.

He threw the door open, marching outside to the balcony, cigarette already lit and beer bottle in his hand. He slammed the door behind him, but she didn’t flinch. She was used to slamming doors, used to him in her face. Their screaming fits turned into fist fights almost every single time.

“Yeah, well fuck you,” she mumbled.

She poured herself a drink, swallowing the warm liquid quickly; it burned the whole way down. His silhouette danced along half-opened blinds as he paced back and forth on the balcony. Through the thin glass of the door she could hear him talking to himself; talking himself through hypothetical arguments while waving his hands in the air as he rehearsed. She didn’t even know why she was mad anymore. That’s how it was most nights. Something so small would trigger one of them, and then one sarcastic remark after the other and they were fighting again. The only time they ever got along was when they were both drunk, high, and fucking like animals on the closest surface available.

He was contemplating leaving again. Contemplating grabbing the keys, getting in the car, and spending the night in the gutter of some bar. This relationship was toxic. It always had been. His family begged him to stay away from her; the ‘narcissistic bitch’ they called her. Told him she was no good for him and that all she did was use him for money and sex. No matter how many times he tried to tell them that wasn’t true, they still wouldn’t believe him.

She didn’t want or need money. She didn’t want or need the sex. Hell, she barely wanted him. She could do so much better, they both knew it. She was beautiful and smart, and had everything going for her. Why she was sucked into this black hole of a fling, he would never know, and at times that made him feel even worse; knowing that she- in all of her holier-than-thou attitude and narcissistic personality disorder- she was still the prize of the two of them. He was just some cubicle junkie who only amounted to anything because of his last name, not because he cared.

Not because he was good at anything.

He came back inside when he was done smoking his cigarette and feeling sorry for himself. She was sitting at the table waiting for him. That was it, that was all it took; either he left or it was going to be World War III. He knew it by that shrewd look in her eye. The one that said, ‘you say one word to me, and I’m going to hurl this bottle of Jack Daniels at your fucking head’. He pulled the keys from the counter and started making his way back towards the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” She asked him, standing up from her seat at the table and placing her hands on her hips.

He rolled his eyes and stopped. He really, really didn’t want to argue with her. He was tired, his muscles were sore, and he was so fed up with her shit. When he turned to face her, he sighed internally. She looked so cute standing there like that. Like at any moment she could just jump on him and claw his eyes out.

He hated crazy, but he loved her crazy.

“Well?” She drew out after not getting an answer the first time.

She was really trying to start something, and Aegon was caught in a cross hair; if he answered her, they fought. If he didn’t answer her, they still fought. If he left, they’d fight when he came back. Either way, there was going to be a fight.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here!” He yelled, knowing that everyone in their apartment complex could hear him. “Away from you and you’re fuckin’ voice that’s like nails on a goddamned chalkboard.”

All he had to do was say ‘I’m leaving’. He didn’t have to add the comment about her voice. But back-handed remarks were his thing, and he really couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it really mattered.

“Oh my voice is like nails on a chalkboard, huh?” She replied. “You aren’t saying that when you’re asking me to scream for you in bed! And trust me, the only reason I would be screaming is in laughter because your dick is so fucking small!”

She was in his face now, not intimidated at all by the way his eyes darkened. His fists were balled. He had hit her before a few times, and he always felt bad about it. But Gods, she was so annoying.

“What are you going to do? Hit me?” She egged on.

He was seriously thinking about it. Shut her up for the rest of the night. She might even pack her bags and stay with someone else for a few weeks. But he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. Instead he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into him, crashing his lips on to hers. It didn’t take long at all for her to wrap her legs and arms around him.

They wasted no time; Aegon pushed her up against the wall, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled her panties to the side, and spit in his hand to wet the tip of his cock before he pushed himself into her. She gasped, fistfuls of his hair. Her mouth hung open as he pounded into her, slamming her up against the wall with each thrust. Her heavy moaning in his ear only added to the built up frustration that he needed to take out on her. She nibbled at his ear lobe, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” he groaned in between thrusts.

Aegon pulled out of her and forced her down to her knees, shoving his wet cock into her mouth. She sucked the taste of herself off of him with pleasure before he pulled himself out and slapped the tip against her cheek, exploding on her face. He stood there for a minute, riding out the climax as she licked the dripping seed from his shaft. Then, she looked up at him from her knees; the sticky white liquid covering her face as she smiled. 

This was why he couldn’t stay away.

She stood up, adjusting her clothes, and wiped the semen off of her face with the t-shirt she had pulled off of him. Aegon fixed his pants and plopped down on the couch.

“Grab me another beer, would you?” He asked after a yawn.

She resisted the urge to laugh out loud. “Get your own fucking beer.”

“You’re so ungrateful!” He replied.

“I’m ungrateful?” She started. “I fucking cook your meals, wash your fucking clothes, do your fucking dishes! And what do you do? Nothing!”

She suddenly realized why she was mad at him in the first place.

“Here we go again,” He replied with a groan. “For the last time, I’m never fucking here!”

[bluelikebruises]

whispers of summer fervor || aegon ii targaryen

Aegon II Targaryen/TargaryenF!Reader summary: Fire and Blood—you were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed. Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy.  or Being the disgraced child of King Viserys and abandoned by your eldest sister pushes you into the arms of her opposition, leading to your support of Aegon’s claim.  wc: 5.1k tw: slight ooc aegon, angst, rhaenyra is usurped, rhaenyra slander, daddy issues, mommy issues, viserys is a shity dad, burn scars, reader is born from aemma but skintone & physical features are never discussed, canon divergence, incest cause yknow targaryens, bastard slander, hints of misogyny

a/n: i usually write (or try to) a reader who is neutral to the whole blacks vs green, but not today! rhaenyra is the rightful heir—always—but for the sake of this fic she is not. also i’ve been neglecting completing my uni assignments to finish this lol, enjoy!!! p.s. not proofread

☆━━━━☆━━━━☆

Fire and Blood—the words of your House. 

Fire and Blood—a warning to those who would ever think of opposing the Targaryen dynasty. 

Fire and Blood—a declaration of war met with threats disguised as promises. 

You were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed.  Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy. 

A fate you were lucky enough to not shoulder alone, Aegon like you was born of your mothers blood. Born out of a desperate need to uphold old customs and beliefs. While his birth was celebrated it also split the Realm, whispers of his right as future king followed him throughout his life. The notions of king left heavy expectations for him to shoulder, expectations he never met, always falling short in one way or another. Resulting in his feverish drinking and promiscuity.

You are both young when you realize the shortcomings of your livelihoods. The drop in your father’s voice whenever he spoke of you. The frigid overcast that glazed over his eyes when his eyes set on you. The blatant favoritism he showed towards your much older sister—the tenderness in his eyes was a warmth you had never felt. His disdain leaked into your interactions; an uncomfortable shadow fell upon his brow whenever you were in his presence. As if your very being pained him, and how could it not? You were the walking reminder of his wife’s death, of his failure as not just a husband but a King. 

Aegon knows the resentment his mother harbors towards him despite her denial. Her first born conceived of a loveless marriage. She had been a girl and made a monarch overnight and some months later a mother. She was robbed of her girlhood and tied to the crown forever and Aegon had been the first nail in her coffin. Aegon represented every sacrifice she had made and his constant rebellion felt like an insult to everything Alicent lost. 

You understood one another, in ways many could not. Cut from the same cloth amalgamations of Targaryen indulgence, stubbornness, and passion. The least favored children of the King and Queen, bonded over neglect and resentment.

Years forged your attachment into blind fidelity, a sickly devotion that was rooted in your hearts like oaths. The world hardly existed outside the two of you and it didn’t stop for anyone without the Targaryen name. While many believed there were no exceptions to your coterie, they would find themselves proven wrong. For nearest and dearest to you was Helaena and Aemond, both as intertwined with one another as you and Aegon. 

Though the four of you were close none of you shared an inkling of a relationship with your eldest sister. Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone and never turned back, no word or ravens ever arrived in her stead. 

When she had resided in the Keep she made no effort to hide her aversion towards you. She was a specter in your memory and marked as a heathen by the Queen. The Queen marked Rhaenyra a great many things and left a bitter child you swallowed her words like water.

It came to no surprise to anyone when the Queen announced that Vaemond Velaryon was bringing into question the validity of your nephew’s claim to Driftmark. After all Rhaenyra had done a very poor job of hiding her indiscretions. 

━━☆━━

On the day of the trial you sit in front of the hearth dreading the affair that was to come. As the hours passed you prepared to become a part of the circus, another spectacle for the Lord and Ladies of the Kingdom to gawk at. Prying eyes were always trying to glimpse at your injury, trying to validate the whispers of gossip they had heard. They were children and you, a parable came to life—a reminder of how cruel the Gods could be. The Cursed Targaryen Princess who could not hatch or claim a dragon. A clear demonstration that even the Targaryens were exempt from their own fire. 

Eyes followed you even when not a single body was around. They haunted you mercilessly. The constant feeling never allows you to inhabit your body comfortably. It was the reason many of your dresses had been tailored towards your lesions. Tailored towards the concealment of the damaged  skin of your shoulder and upper arm. 

Your dresses always had long sleeves even during the hot summers. The scars that could not be hidden with fabric were hidden by your hair. Never was your hair tied up or styled in extravagant fashion. It was only ever neatly placed out of your face in a simple manner. 

With the sound of your chambers doors opening you surface from thought. Aegon steps into view, freshly bathed with his hair combed and wearing an exasperated look. 

“The Keep is a mess” he says slumping down next to you. He throws his head back leaning uncomfortably on the divan 

“Your sisters arrival warrants pageantry” 

“Your sister” he clarifies 

You scoff, Rhaenyra had not been your sister in years. She had always tried to marry you off to a Lannister or whatever Lord presented himself as willing. She thought you incompetent and arrogant, endowments she believed were smears of her mothers memory. 

She was one to cast judgment, you’re sure Aemma would not have been keen on having illegitimate grandsons. What was the saying of House Arryn… As High as Honor. Bastards were anything but. 

“Has she not summoned you?” he looks at you curiously

“She has,” you respond boredly. A servant had entered your chambers the day prior, her head tilted towards the floor as she spoke. Her timidness struck you as odd and instantly you knew she was one of Rhaenyra’s. With a smile you sent her back to her mistress, refusing to tangle yourself in her web.

Aegon smirks, “She is to be Queen and you deny her” 

“She pedals falsehoods and you forget she is not Queen yet”

He laughs shifting in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. While you hated being watched, Aegon's gaze was different. He was never trying to pry you open or overzealous with morbid curiosity. He always regarded you with esteemed affection and tenderness. 

After a long pause you say, “Is there something on my face?”

His stare doesn’t waiver and he doesn’t respond. It is rare when he forgets how bewitching you could be but when it strikes him, he is at a loss for words—overwhelmed by the realization. His eyes shine with novelty as if it is the first time he has ever laid eyes on you. As if you were the grand encompass of the ocean and he was ready to dive in.

You utter his name and he’s awoken from the spell he had been under. 

He stands offering his hand, “We should take our leave now”

“You’ve never been one for punctuality” you tease and he smiles

“No, but I have been informed to behave. To present an image of regalness and grace” a laugh escapes his lips, “As if I am Aemond”

Now you laugh taking his hand, “He is much more regal than you” 

Aegon clutches his chest just over his heart, feigning hurt, “You injure me”

With your arms laced together you set off to find Aemond and Helaena. It would have been improper for Aegon to enter without his wife and for you to show up in the arms of a married man—regardless if he was your brother. It was a rule the four of you rarely followed but today was not the day to deter away from customs. 

Helaena is the first to spot you in the halls, Aemond is with her. A bright smile displayed on her face as she said your name. You can’t help but admire her, always effortlessly beautiful and far more intelligent than anyone gave her credit for. The picture of what women of your house were to be, beautiful, intelligent, and dragon riders. Everything you were not and though she did not hatch an egg she had claimed Dreamfyre. You should have been mad with envy but no such ill feeling ever came.

You loved her, perhaps no envy was born due to your ever present feeling of having to protect her. Of shielding her from the claws that embedded themselves into Keep. Destroying any sight of light or innocence. Fearing she would be treated like you had been. 

You depart from Aegon to greet Helaena with a kiss on the cheek. Moving towards Aemond to do the same, he greets you with a compliment before extending his arm for you to take. 

“Always so chivalrous” you say loud enough for Aegon to hear

━━☆━━

The hearing had gone to shit. Your father made a surprising appearance, Vaemond had died, Lucerys was still heir to Driftmark, and everything was as it had been the day before. 

You stand beside Aegon and Aemond in the dining hall, the room is lit by candle light as chatter fills the air. 

“What a waste of time” Aegon huffs

“Dinner or the hearing?” 

“Both. Lucerys is still heir and Daemon suffers no consequences.”

Aemond chimes in, “Their breaths are an insult to everything we stand for”

You nod about to speak when the sound of the wooden door opening announces the arrival of the King. Quickly everyone settles to stand before their seats, seating only after the King is seated. 

Your father greets everyone with a hoarse voice. He wears a golden mask on the rotten side of his face and he breathes as though it pains him. 

“Prayer before we begin?” The Queen asks and he nods 

Instantly your head is bowed, your hands are in your lap, and your eyes are closed. Prayer had become a daily ritual before dinner and it was always led by the Queen. 

Before the prayer is over you feel the sensation of eyes on your skin. You think it to be one of your nephews but when the prayer is over you see it is Rhaenyra. 

Her eyes are casted with an emotion you cannot read and they soon drop to your shoulder. Eyeing the scars that edged just above your shoulder and the base of your neck. 

Feeling the scrutiny of her gaze, your hands find your hair moving it to disrupt her viewing. You had been judged by the vultures of the Seven Kingdoms, you would not allow Rhaenyra to do the same. 

The expression on your face is clear, Rhaenyra has gotten to you. 

Aegon notices your discomfort, notices how your hair now falls over your chest, and how your eyes are focused on the empty plate before you. Instantly he knows someone is to blame. He first assumes it to be Daemon, his uncle was crude and unceremonious. Having little regard for the people around him, not bothering with niceties. 

But when he sees Rhaenyra attentively watching you—casting judgment—he knows it was her. Aegon almost laughs at her hypocrisy, as if she out of anyone had any right to look down upon others. 

If his sister wanted something to look at, then he as a gracious brother would oblige in the only way he knew how, by causing a scene. The one thing Aegon was adept at was getting under people's skin, poking and prodding until they burst. 

He leans towards Jacaerys spewing his obnoxious rambling. When his nephew bites back Aegon leans back in his chair reveling in the beginning of his antics. 

The sound of wood scraping against stone makes you cringe, your father is standing removing his mask displaying the rot that has taken over the left side of his face. Eye’s are averted at the bare sight of the King’s face, but you are accustomed to seeing rotten skin. His teeth can be seen through his cheek, the muscle stretching and contracting as he speaks—it's a morbid sight. 

He speaks of reconciliation and forgiveness but you pay him no mind. Besides you, Aemond keeps his eyes forward, Helaena has her eyes on the wooden table, and Aegon’s jaw is tight as he stares at his wine cup. 

You spent the next couple of moments with your head in the clouds. Surfacing from thought when Rhaenyra toasts to the Queen, thanking her for looking after the King. You’re surprised when the Queen follows after, her kind words confound you. But you have no time to think them over as Aegon stands from his seat. Stepping between Jacaerys and Baela pouring wine into his cup.

Aemond looks suspiciously towards you but you had no answers to give him. When his eye leaves you the table shakes and Jacaerys stands as Aegon sits. With furrowed brows you look at Aegon who sips on his wine with ease. 

The room falls silent and Aegon is reviling in the tension, trying not to smile triumphantly as he uses his cup as a shield. 

The tension in the room grows thicker when Aemond stands. He’s looking at Jacaerys with the marksmanship of a hunter who had spotted their prey. 

Eyes shift and concern is painted on the faces of almost everyone. 

Jacaerys playfully hits his uncle on the shoulder, raising his cup as he smiles at Aemond, “To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth” Jacaerys pauses looking between his uncles, “And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles”

Across the table you see the snarky smiles of Jacaerys’ betrothed and Lucerys. Their smugness lights a flame in the furnace of your heart. You have half a mind to stand with Aemond, to show that their disrespect would not be tolerated. 

“To you as well,” Aegon says 

When Aemond sits you lean towards him, “Fucking miscreants”

“Vermin” he responds as Helaena stands. 

She smiles excitedly holding her cup of wine, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon” she turns to them, “It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you, except sometimes when he’s drunk” she smiles

You let out a small laugh at her words. Aegon was rather whinny when drunk, he became a rambling needy mess who desperately wanted attention. And you were always there to give it to him in any shape or form that he needed it in. 

Smiling, you raise your cup towards Helaena, “Hear, Hear”. The scarlet wine falls down your throat with ease and your moment of enjoyment is shortly ruined by an approaching Jacaerys. 

His eyes are set on Helaena as he extends his hand asking her to dance. To your dismay she takes his hand without hesitation. You’re staring daggers at the Prince, indignation replaces the taste of wine in your mouth. Helaena was far too kind for the world. 

Aegon’s eyes catch yours before he looks at Jacaerys dancing with his wife, disbelief and annoyance clear in his face. 

In one swift motion you move to stand beside Aegon, “The apple does not fall from the tree” you glare at the hazel haired prince, expecting a response from Aegon but you get none. Confused, you turn towards Aegon only to find him gazing across the table. He’s quiet as he sips from the cup in his hand watching Rhaenyra laugh and talk with their father. Viserys is smiling and coughing through his laughter and it is the most alive he has been in years. 

“She arrives and suddenly he can will himself to walk and attend supper” he says only for you to hear 

You look up towards the sight of his words—your father and Rhaenyra and you understand. His jab was not said out of anger but out of a feeling of lacking. All the traits and characteristics Rhaenyra had that he did not, the love of their father she had that he did not. 

“You’re jealous” 

He turns towards you, “Are you not?”

“No”, you lie

“She’s father’s favorite”, he’s looking up at you through his lashes, “I’m the son he killed for and it is not enough”

You avert your gaze, his words struck like an arrow. A part of you had always felt responsible for the birth of Aegon. At fault for the death of your mother, the death of your brother, and the birth of Aegon. If you had not been a butcher, if you had been a boy his burden would be yours.

“You didn’t kill anyone Aegon” you sip wine solemnly, your posture falters, and your head is half hung. 

Aegon notices your somber spirit and his eyes soften realizing the error in his words, “I’m sorry, I meant no offense”

“I know”, is all you say returning to your seat

As the night passes you eat and make conversation with Aemond. For most of the night his eye is set on the dancing prince and princess. Occasionally when he looks at you his lips pull upwards in a smile.

After your father retires for the night, servants enter with more food. A cooked pig is laid out before you and before you can think Aemond’s fist hits the table as he stands. 

“Final tribute” 

All eyes fall on Aemond and the room goes quiet.

“To the health of my nephews. Jace…Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” he pauses and it is as if all the air in the room has been cast out, “strong”

Your eyes widen in shock as the Queen pleads with Aemond. 

“Come let us drain our cups to these three…strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again” 

Aemond turns towards Jacaerys, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment”, they both walk towards one another, “Do you not think yourself strong?”

Lucerys rises from his seat as Jacaerys strikes Aemond, Aegon is not far behind grabbing his nephew and slamming him against the table. 

Bolting upwards you grab Helaena pulling her away from the chaos. She grips your hand tightly frightened by the scene. 

“Are you alright?” you ask

She nods, “Yes but Aemond” her hand points at the exiting prince. Understanding, you pull Helaena, following Aemond. 

Once you’re in the halls you follow the sounds of Aemond’s steps, Helaena runs towards him. She latches onto the side of his arm soothing the riled prince. You’re about to do the same when laughter echoes from beyond the hallway—Aegon. 

Grabbing the side of your dresses you hold it up allowing yourself quicker movements. With your approach the shadow of Aegon grows smaller and his laughter grows louder. 

You say his name as you grab his arm. When he lays his eyes on you they widen excitedly, your name falls from his lips, “You are a vision. Have I told you that? Come, come, let us retreat into our burrow”. He gives you no time to respond as he throws an arm around you and leads you away. 

The burrow was a small unfinished room at the far end of the Keep that had been hidden by a suit of armor; it had been discovered by Aegon when he was ten and two. Immediately he ran to inform you about it, dragging you into the room. It is not large like either of your chambers but it’s spacious enough that both of you can move without bumping into one another. Rugs and sheets hung throughout the floor and walls hiding the decaying walls. Bottles of wine littered the room, both empty and full. 

Aegon is drunkenly rambling, as you make sure there is no one around to see you gently push past the suit, “”Twas only a compliment” he mimics Aemond’s voice. 

Sitting near the corner of the room you grab a bottle and Aegon moves towards you. He rests his head against your lap spilling wine into your dress, not that you cared. He’s laughing recalling the events of the night.

With a laugh you respond, “Jacaerys’ stance was laughable, he looked like a child throwing a tantrum” 

“He is to be King”, his laugh dies as the sentence leaves his lips, “He is to be King” 

You both grow quiet, the words weigh heavy over the both of you. The realities of a future that is so close to becoming reality. If you were believed to be a stain on the Targaryen legacy, Rhaenyra's children were desecrations to the Targaryen dynasty.

“Perhaps your mother is right,” you sip from the bottle of wine not fully thinking about the words as you speak, “Perhaps you should be King”

Aegon half laughs, pushing himself into a sitting position, “You speak of treachery” 

“Your mother says—”

“My mother is crazed on a notion that we will be slain” 

You wish you could believe him, but the image of your sister's husband swinging his sword without mercy does not leave your mind. How easy it would be for Rhaenyra to rid herself of you once she is Queen; there were fates far worse than death. 

“Enough talk of foreboding futures. Let us drink ourselves blind” 

“Hear! Hear!” you eagerly agree

True to Aegon’s words you both drink until your visions are blurred and the room spins. You both dance and drink carelessly, laughing as though the events of the night had no effect on you. It comes as no surprise when Aegon leans towards you and presses his lip on yours. The kiss is sloppy and full of hunger, your teeth clash and tongues swipe over one another. There’s a desperation in his hands—in the way he holds your face obstructing any movement. In the heat of passion you bite his bottom lip earning a yelp from Aegon. 

He pulls away with a smile, “Ow”

Your hand rest on his chest playfully, “Don’t be a child, I didn’t draw blood” 

The rest of the night blurs into a giant mirage of jubilation. 

━━☆━━

As the sun rose you wake with a yawn, your body aching from the uncomfortable position it had been in all night. Your head had been on Aegon’s lap and his arm had been thrown over your body. Maneuvering from his embrace you press your back firmly on the brick wall, your head throbbing feeling as though it had been repeatedly bashed.

The sun’s rays kiss your cheeks, it's warm and gentle and for a brief moment the world around you falls into obscurity. Nothing else matters beside the sun’s golden touch and the beating of your own heart. 

The body besides you grumbles and your moment of serenity shatters as Aegon slowly stirs into consciousness. You’re brought back into the arms of reality.

“Wine,” he says, “More wine”

You don’t waste your breath, instead you make your way to your chambers. Stumbling the first few steps out of the room. Peeking your head out of the door way you make sure there is no one around before exiting. 

Walking down the corridors there is an air of urgency within the Keep. There were twice as many Knights as you were accustomed to seeing and servants hurried into the direction of the Great Hall. Regardless you carry on, not bothering to greet any of the people who greeted or called after you. 

Approaching the hallway to your chambers you’re unexpectedly faced with the sight of your wooden doors wide open. Stepping closer you see three figures standing at the center of your room; Aemond, Ser Criston, and the Queen.

Puzzlement rests on your brow, what had transpired in the hours you and Aegon had disappeared. As you continue your approach you can see the faces of your visitors all displaying an array of emotions.

“Your Grace,” Ser Criston states as you walk through the threshold, “The Princess”

The Queen turns towards you instantly, wasting no time in embracing you, “Oh sweet girl” 

Her embrace wasn’t foreign but the sudden action confuses you further. 

“Where have you been? Where is Aegon?” she pulls away but keeps her hands on your arms

You looked towards Aemond trying to find any answers on his face but there were none. 

“I’ve just left Aegon. Has something happened?” 

“Where is he?” The Queen’s grip on your arm tightens. Desperation is in her eyes and it frightens you, enough that you decided to keep Aegon's whereabouts to yourself for the time being.

“We snuck out of the Keep last night. Upon returning to the castle Aegon left my side” 

She turns towards her sworn Knight an unsaid order ushering him quickly from your chambers, Aemond follows suit. 

When they’re gone you repeat your question, “Has something happened?”

“Your father is dead, he died in his sleep”

Her voice was grave and her words echo in your mind but you can’t decipher them. It’s as if you have lost the ability to comprehend the common tongue. 

A moment passes and you realize what your step mother had said. Silently you wait for grief but it never arrives, there is no sadness in your heart, no invading sorrow. Your father is dead and you shed no tears for his memory. 

“I–I need a moment,” you pull away but before you can leave the Queen pulls you towards her. Her hand is under your chin lifting your head just enough to meet her gaze.

Her eyes are round and full of distress, “You know where Aegon is, I beg of you, bring him to me. It was the King’s dying wish. Do not let my father get his hands on him first”

You nod and hurriedly walk out of your chambers, returning to your burrow. The throbbing in your head returns but you try to disregard the discomfort, there were far more pressing matters. 

The closer you got towards Aegon the faster your move, breaths of air forcibly escape as enter through the hidden door. You thank the Gods when you see Aegon in the same position he had been when you left. You rush to his side, dropping to your knees shaking him.

“Aegon, Aegon. Wake up, Wake up”

He groans and his speech is slurs. Letting his arms go, he slouches into a half sitting position half laying. His eyes flutter open for a moment and your name falls from his lips. 

“‘Tis me,” you cup the cheeks of his face almost painfully. He tries to move away from you but you do not yield, “Aegon, father is dead”

You watch your words register in his mind. He blinks his eyes open and takes a breath, pushing you aside. 

“Your jest are not appreciated, my head is murderous” 

“It is no jest, the King died in his sleep” 

Like you had with the Queen, Aegon takes a moment, his eyes are wide looking through you making sense of your words. 

“Father is dead” he repeats. His hand passes through his hair, a look of distress clear on his sunken face

“Yes and your mother and grand feather are searching for you”

“For me? What could they want—”

Realization hits you both like a strong gust of wind, knocking all the air out of the room. The line of succession crosses your mind for the first time. You had thought nothing of the Queen’s words about your fathers dying wish but you understood them now. Of course, the Keep was in disarray because the Hand was trying to sit Aegon on the throne before news of the King’s death spread.

“They mean to crown you” 

Crowning Aegon would be treason and all those who participated would be punished with death. The idea does not frighten you as much as the idea of Rhaenyra on the throne. You’d surely be sent away, sold off to be the pretty little Targaryen wife of Lord who’d defile you. And the realm would fall to pieces with a spiteful malicious woman at its helm. 

Aegon looks at you horrified, “No. They can’t. I am not heir”

“That does not matter, it was the King’s dying wish to have you succeed him”

“On whose word?”

“Your mother’s”

Aegon scoffs, “She is crazed, fuelled by her hatred for Rhaenyra”

“You may think her crazed, but your mother is a woman of the Gods, she would not lie about a matter of this caliber”

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly. His back is against the wall, he looks disheveled, dirty, and disarranged. Tears swell in his eyes and he swipes them away with his sleeve. 

“A dying wish he had years to fulfill” 

“I know not the whims of old Kings, but I know regret. It is clear in the words he spoke to your mother that he wanted you on the throne, his first born son” 

“What kind of brother would I be to take the throne from Rhaenyra?” 

“By the law of Gods and Men the throne is yours. You cannot steal what is rightfully yours” 

“I do not want the throne” he argues 

“Aegon” you plead 

“No! I will not take it,” swiftly his hand grab yours, “Let us climb on board a ship escape to Essos or on dragonback—”

You interrupt his crazed thoughts squeezing his hands, “Listen, Rhaenyra only cares for her own, she has never cared for us. If you let her ascend the throne what will come of your mother? Of Aemond? Of Helaena and your children? ” you pause, “Of me? She sees my existence as blasphemous and yours as opposition. If we leave we are leaving those we love to die. Ascend the throne Aegon, protect us” 

Silence encompassed the room, Aegon ran his eyes over your face searching for answers, trying to understand what was being asked of him and if he could undertake such a task. You return his gaze with soft eyes and gentle hands. 

He had never thought himself a leader let alone a King. He did not want the pressures and responsibilities of leading an entire land. Aegon would no longer be able to hide under his title of prince, as King. He would have to be the picture of Targaryen greatness and regalness—heavy is the head that wears the crown. He wants to laugh at the notion but his chest is heavy with your words. 

“Do you understand?” there’s a desperate edge in your voice and he doesn’t respond, “Aegon, do you understand?”

“Yes,” he nods

[sugarpopss]

Lamb, Pig, It's All The Same

Alright here's more Aegon with gout fic. idk. I don't have a tag list but I am gonna tag @bucknastysbabe bc I bounced some of this off of her before it sat in my drafts for two months, and @who-told-you-this-was-butter and @khaleesihel bc they're my howl drool cream over Aegon buddies

Fem reader, Aegon being a pathetic whore but like in a fun sexy way

The gout preferred to strike at night. It would violently jerk Aegon from his slumber and have him crying out with the sudden pain, panicked thrashing hindered by both his afflicted joint and his swollen stomach-for your husband did so love to gorge himself into drowsiness, despite repeated warnings from the maesters and scoldings from his own mother. 

It was Aegons gasping and crying that usually awoke you. The overwhelming panic you’d felt at the beginning of your marriage, when you’d known nothing of the crown princes illness-possibly by design, but you’d not be caught making the accusation-had been overcome in the months since the first, terrifying night. By the time the summertime warmth of your wedding had frozen into winter, you were wrapping your arms around Aegon before you were even fully awake. He always leaned into you with all of his weight, seeking the comfort you provided him like a lamb searching for its mothers shadow. 

“Hush, dearheart, it’ll fade. You know it will fade soon enough.” 

It was all nonsense, really, that you murmured into his hair, but your soothing words and safe embrace gave Aegon something to anchor himself to while the pain ran its violent course. Despite the constant, grating irritation that usually marked Aegons presence in a room-and that ground your nerves to dust time and time again-his cries made your heart ache. Perhaps you were simply weak for a beautiful man in distress, because you always found yourself coming to his side when he glutted himself like a prized hog then whined so pathetically for you to soothe his belly. 

When Aegon sniffled against your shoulder you just couldn’t help but to coo and stroke his hair. Nevermind the tears and mucus he was no doubt spreading all over the fine Myrish lace of your nightgown, the idiot usurper-your idiot usurper-was in pain and frightened. And although it surely made you a damnably terrible person, you found Aegon to be at his sweetest when he was reeling and needy. Not completely lost in the throes of the pain, of course, but when the attack began to ease and he nuzzled against your skin, seeking warmth and comfort and kind words and rewarding you with his gorgeous lilac eyes, red rimmed and watery, turned up to you with all of the mindless trust of a newborn lamb. 

The knowledge that Aegon only sought your comfort because you happened to be closer at hand than a jug of wine did little to sour how much you enjoyed peppering kisses over his fever warm cheeks-cheeks which only seemed to grow fuller and rounder time trod on, but gout was not called the ‘fat mans disease’ for nothing. The fool was nearly incapable of self soothing without something in his mouth, a fact that had perhaps led your mind towards less appropriate thoughts of a hypothetical night upon which, after the pain had faded to a more manageable ache, you’d shrug off your nightgown and offer him your breast. You were confident that Aegon would take it eagerly, after all. Doesn’t every pathetic lamb need something to nurse? 

Sometimes you gave up on holding him altogether and applied a cold herbal compress to his inflamed knee. As you sat on the edge of your own marital bed and pressed the damp, sticky rags to Aegons knee and watched him writhe and cry, your thoughts always grew strange. The affection-fine, perhaps a little bit of power as well-you felt while holding and comforting your husband went quiet. In its place arose thoughts of the Queen Consort tending to her own ailing Targaryen. You didn’t enjoy these thoughts, but they came nonetheless. Perhaps these men with dragons blood in their veins were somehow prone to affliction, or perhaps it was as simple as the fact that a loyal wife and a nursemaid were very much interchangeable. 

Even if you were slightly uncertain whether you’d care for Aegons pain at all if he wasn’t so beautiful and needy and helpless when it struck. 

Perhaps this man, this family, this city-they all brought out the worst in you. Or perhaps you were just a little too fond of your husbands flushed face and hitching cries. 

[aegontaargaryens]

of love and duty | aegon ii targaryen

summary: the love you bore your mother is what prompted you to agree to the duty of marrying your uncle. the duty aegon bore to the crown and to his family is what forced him to agree to marry his niece. it would never be a marriage of love, but always a marriage of duty.

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x f!reader

note: there is literally no canon in this at all. aegon is genuinely not nice in this, but he's also terrified sooo. let me know what you think!! and if you want a part 2 <3

word count: 2.8k

They say, oftentimes, that a sense of duty can be found in an action of love.  

What they often forget to mention is that a sense of love can oftentimes be the catalyst for unwanted, but wholly necessary actions of duty.  

The Conquerors Crown, the magnificent piece of Valyrian steel that once sat on the white hair of Aegon the Conqueror, now rested atop the head of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the first of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. The Realm’s Delight truly looked the part as she stood in front of those kneeling in front of her. The cries of joy were electrified, the roars of the dragons flying through the sky rumbled the floor below. 

The history books would say it was a sight. The Greens kneeling alongside their niece and nephews, their swords promised to their half-sister and the woman their grandfather had sworn to defeat in hopes of his own blood sitting the throne. 

Although, said grandfather’s head was rumoured to have been a favoured treat for the notorious Blood Wyrm. So, it seemed to many that his years of hidden treason had been for naught. Others would say it differently. 

There were many things that prevented the Dance of the Dragons. The Blacks never left Kings Landing after the family dinner King Viserys I had orchestrated the night he met the Stranger. Ser Otto Hightower met the Stranger just hours later while his daughter begged for the life of her children to be spared, her knees pressed to the ground as she begged her childhood friend to remember that her children were the Queen’s own kin. 

Instead of responding to the accusations that she would willingly slay her own kin, Queen Rhaenyra no sooner announced the betrothal of her eldest child, her only daughter, to the eldest child of Alicent Hightowner and King Viserys I, Aegon Targaryen.  

Their marriage would dispel all the concerns of potential kinslaying, the Blacks and Greens would be united. One day, the grandchild of Queen Rhaenyra and Dowager Queen Alicent would sit the Iron Throne. 

The tears had slid silently down your cheeks in the comfort of your own chambers after the news was brought forth. The Queen, your mother, had gripped your hands so tightly as she looked at you silently, awaiting your confirmation that you would do your duty to her, to the realm.  

Trying to keep the tears at bay as you nodded your head towards your mother, willing yourself to speak. “I will do my duty, my Queen. Not because I wish to, but out of the love I bear for you, for my mother, for my brothers... and for the future of this realm.” 

“This was not the life I ever wished for you, my heart. I would have seen you travel the world on dragonback like you always so wished. See the great wonders across the Narrow Sea and eat only cake. Perhaps one day, you will still.” The devastation in her words was evident in your mother’s features as she placed a gentle kiss against your forehead.  

Aegon was... Aegon. He was a selfish drunkard, his endeavors in the Street of Silk well known by the small white-haired bastards that found themselves paraded through the streets by their mothers, by those wishing to gain a favour with the Royal family.  

You knew your duty; you had accepted that the love you had for your mother would one day be the push for necessary but unwanted duty.

-------------- 

The wine dribbled down his chin as he tried to contain his guffaws, his stomach hurting as he bent forward in an attempt to contain himself. 

“This is no laughing matter, Aegon! This is our saving grace, the protection you and your siblings needed. You will do your duty as your sister; the Queen has demanded.” Aegon quirked an eyebrow towards his mother as he pressed the sheet closer to his bare stomach, the wine staining the white sheets a pretty purple.  

“Ah yes, dear Mother. I have done everything you have ever asked; I suppose allowing myself to be a dragon dressed for slaughter will be no different. If you truly loved me, you would have allowed me to disappear on Sunfyre when you told me the news of my father’s death.” 

He didn’t have time to react before Alicent’s hand connected with his cheek, his eyes closing in fear of a ring scratching his cheek as it had so many times before. Aegon could feel the involuntary tear slip down his cheek as the animosity grew in the room. Regardless of how much love he showed, his mother would never love him, no one ever would. 

“You are a fool, my son. I have only ever pushed you to do your duty out of my love for you, your duty is what will keep you alive. Love will not.” 

With that, the Dowager Queen turned on her heels and out of the room, her dog of a sworn shield following closely behind as the door shut tightly. Seconds later, a wine goblet splattered against the wall, Aegon’s fists tightly gripping the sheets as he felt himself fall to the bed.  

There was no love in duty, of that, he was sure. 

-------------

It didn’t take long for the wedding preparations to begin and be finalized. The joining of the two sects was necessary for peace in the realm, for those against the ruling of Queen Rhaenyra in favour of her half-brother Aegon Targaryen to finally be put to rest.  

It took less than a full turn of the moon, to be exact. Your dress had been commissioned by your mother, it was meant to be a glorious display of the houses Velaryon and Targaryen. The sea blue and the blood red mixed well with the black undertones included, your maiden cloak a beautiful display of everything you were not, a beautiful display of a true Velaryon. 

Even you could admit, despite all of this, you did look like a true Princess of Old Valyria in your wedding attire. Your husband-to-be likely did as well.  

“Oh, my heart. You look beautiful,” cupping your cheeks while she spoke, your mother’s eyes reflected in your own as the unspoken words travelled amongst you. She was grateful that your love for her knew no bounds, that you would bind yourself to a man to guarantee her ruling would be successful, would be smooth. 

“Thank you, mother. The dress you had made is beautiful, the silk underneath is far more comfortable than I was expecting. I’m sure Aegon will be pleased.”  

Rhaenyra smiled slightly at your words, her hands moving up to gently press a fine comb, embroidered with that of a Seahorse, into your hair. "Your grandfather had this comb commissioned for you upon Driftmark. I think your father would have been honoured to know that you’ll carry a piece of him with you on your wedding day.” 

“Which one?” 

Your mouth snapped open before your brain could process the words falling from your mouth, the instant look of regret flashing in your eyes at the hurt expression that fell upon your mother’s face. A sigh left her lips as she made her way to sit on your bed, gently patting the spot next to her. 

“It does not matter, not to me at least. You came from my womb; I endured hours of labour to push you from inside of me. No one can take that away from us, not the realm, no one. Your husband, especially, cannot take that away from us. You are my daughter, a true Targaryen, and that is all that will ever matter.” 

Pressing your head gently to the side of hers, you nodded slightly at your mother’s words. The door swung open a moment later, the sauntering figure of Daemon Targaryen entering the room. 

“I believe it is time we make our way to the sept, Tala. Perhaps you should go find your husband and instruct him that he will ride with us as well.” 

---------------

“What do you mean, you can’t find Aegon?”  

“Sunfyre remains in the sky. He could not have gone far; he is likely bedding a whore in the Street of Silk or drinking himself into a stupor, so he doesn’t have to remember marrying our half-sister's bastard.” 

Alicent gripped Aemond’s chin harshly, shaking his head tightly as she glared at her son. “You must remove those thoughts from your mind, and the words from your vocabulary. Those words are treason, and they will have your head on a spike if you speak them again.” 

The door slammed open, startling both of them away from each other as the missing man in question stumbled into the room. His tunic was crumbled, his hair greasy, and his cheeks likely stained with whatever Dornish blend had found its way into his hands that day.  

“Aegon! We are to be at the Sept in an hour’s time, where have you been?”  

Shrugging, Aegon grumbled incoherently in response. “Avoiding my doom, perhaps. Wed Aemond to my betrothed, he’s always been able to complete his duty with little complaint.” 

Aemond scoffed in response to his words, preparing to argue against the proposition only to be interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. The wood creaked open a moment later, as your eyes took in the sight in front of you, you attempted to withhold the grimace that threatened to take over your face. 

“Princess! I didn’t realize you were meant to meet Aegon in his rooms before going to the carriages.” 

You shook your head with a neutral smile upon your face as you looked at the three faces in front of you. “I would like to have a moment alone with my betrothed, if that is acceptable with you, lady Alicent?” 

Nodding her head with a pained smile, Alicent ushered Aemond and herself out the door, allowing it to gently shut behind her as you turned back towards the man who would be your husband in an hour’s time. You could immediately tell he was likely drunk or was facing the consequences of his actions from the night prior. 

“Do you plan on bathing before our wedding, or is your intention to show up and make it seem as if we’re holding you against your will?” 

“Hm, aren’t you?” Clucking his tongue at your words, Aegon’s backside connected with the bed as he sat down and glared across the room at you as his hair fell into his face. 

Scoffing at his words, you gestured towards the window where the dragons could be seen flying. It had been decreed that the dragon pit was hindering the growth of the dragons, preventing them from prospering in ways that they could in Old Valyria. They would fly free unless they begin killing those who lived in Kings Landing or nearby keeps, they would not be held in a dark pit, or chained any longer. 

“You could leave at any moment you want. There are no guards holding you hostage here, Sunfyre remains free and I’m sure willing to take you wherever you wish. You’ve had no issue hiding at other moments, Uncle. No one is stopping you from leaving, I’m most definitely not.” 

Aegon’s anger had him pushing himself to his feet and towards you, a fiery look in his eye as he looked towards you. “And give your mother more of a reason to kill my family? More of a reason to feed my mother to your stepfather's dragon?” 

A sarcastic laugh left his lips before he continued, “I have never been one to care about duty. I bear no love for your side of the family. I can acknowledge that I owe the Queen, your a mother, a sense of duty. The only reason I have not taken flight on Sunfyre is because I have a duty to protect my mother, a duty to protect my brother’s and my sister.” 

“Your duty is to abide by the decrees set by my mother, the Queen. My mother has decreed that we are to marry to guarantee your family and all their allies fall in line with her. You have a duty to our future children, the future Kings and Queens of the realm.” 

Another sardonic laugh left the man in front of you as he gripped your chin, his Indigo eyes glaring into yours. “Do you truly think me a stupid man, sweet niece? I will put no children in your belly, I will fuck all the whores in the Streets of Silk before I lay with you. I will be the first to die, the moment you have a babe. The only use I have for your family is that of a breeder, and you the one to be bred.” 

He laid a hand on your stomach to emphasize his words, pressing a hand against your empty stomach to prove that it would remain that way. Empty. 

Feeling yourself shiver at his words, Aegon was obviously not yet done, “I have no love for you, sweet niece. When I fuck you during our wedding night, I will likely be so drunk nothing will come from it. I owe you no duties, I owe you nothing. I will do what I have to, to keep myself, and my mother alive.” 

A small tear trickled down his cheek, your finger subconsciously moving up to wipe it from his face. His words cut deep, you knew he held no love for you, nor for your mother, but you never realized how distrustful he was of your mother and your kin.  

Gently caressing his cheek, you could tell he was embarrassed to lean into your gentle touch, “No one will kill you, Aegon. My mother is not a kinslayer, you are still the child of my grandfather, her father. We are family, uncle.” 

Pulling back from your hold, Aegon glared at you, his eyes still full of unshed tears and his mind full of worries that would never be settled. “You will know no love from me. Our marriage shall be one of duty, one of convenience. Never one of love, I will take paramours and quite frankly... I do not care what you do.” 

Walking back towards the bed, you could see the remainder of his wedding clothes staring up at him. “I’d like to finish getting prepared for this horrible day. If you’d make your leave, niece.” 

Not even bothering to dignify him with any more words, you immediately left the room, your own unshed tears finally making their way down your cheeks as you made your way down the hall.  

You had always known your marriage would not be one of choice, or immediate love. The eldest child of a Queen, her only daughter. You knew one day you would be wed to the highest bidder, the string that would tie two families together and guarantee the loyalty of another house to your own. It was always a subconscious hope that perhaps it would one day lead to love, one day lead to a type of kinship that would be written in the songs, and in the stories. In a matter of a few simple moments, those childhood hopes had been dashed and replaced with a sense of mourning for what would never be. 

----------- 

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby see these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words,” the Septon gestured for you and Aegon to begin, the guests holding their breath as they waited for the fated words to leave the mouths of the bride and groom. 

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.” 

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.” 

Aegon’s unshed tears from before were never more evident, his hands shaking as he gripped yours, his eyes conveying every concern that rippled through his mind and body. You felt almost... sympathetic towards him. The concern that this necessity for duty prompted, the terror that made its way through his body. 

The ceremony continued as your mind wandered, before you knew it, Aegon’s hand was pressed gently to the back of your head as he guided your face to his own. His chapped lips pressed against yours, a quick connection binding two sides of a family out of duty, not of love. 

The cheers from the crowd were ignored as you stared directly into your husband’s eyes. The resentment, the anger, even the fear, were never more prominent than in that very moment. To Aegon, his biggest duty was done. His duty now was to guarantee that he and his family remained alive, in whatever way he had to do so, it would be done. 

A love for you would never stand in his way. 

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy Rating: Explicit Chapters: 10/25, part 1 of 3 Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong, Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten - I Let You Stop Me

“Are you implying, Lord Bracken, that the results of the survey ordered by this very council were not upheld by your liege lord?” His mother’s voice cut smoothly through the bickering lords, and it sent prickles along the back of Aegon’s neck. He knew that voice. The earnest curiosity that hid the trap she lay before her was more familiar to him now than the gentle crooning from his childhood. Aegon gazed from the corner of his eye past Lord Wylde to where his mother rested her primly folded hands on the table.  “Just beat each other and be done with it,” he muttered, taking a mouthful of wine as he tried to figure out what was lying before him. He did not realise a silence had fallen across the table at his mother’s question. “Aegon,” rasped his father, and it took everything in him not to give a start at the king calling him by name, and the correct name at that. “My boy, if you have something to share, you are welcome to it.”  All eyes swiveled to him, and Aegon’s gaze stayed upon his father. A prickle of heat crept along the back of his neck, familiar and stomach churning. All that missed was the fire crackling at his back, his brother maimed and in pain in the chair before him. Instead, it was lords of the realm, and Edmund Vance’s poncy, square cut jaw and curls like a crown on his head all looking at him.

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Full fic idea credit to @goldensunfyre (might need to make this a two parter idk the ending was kinda shit and rushed.)

And thanks to @targtowers for this thought 💭

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Aegon was slinking through the halls of the Red Keep from sleeping in the chambers that use to be yours; Hoping that your scent still lingered on the pillows and sheets like they did the night before your family’s departure back to Dragonstone, when he heard that the King was dead. He had long since accepted from a young age of the harsh reality that Viserys never wanted anything to do with him nor his siblings; Refusing to view or accept them as the children of his loins. Due to Viserys’ attitude, Aegon didn’t feel it was his place to mourn, to cry over a man whom he shared blood and a last name with and nothing more. Instead he felt like he was hearing the passing of someone else’s father rather then his own; incapable of mustering any words of condolences for his sister as he wasn’t at all that close with the decrepit king.

Aegon felt nothing, no remorse, no sadness, no anything. He just felt numb, his foggy mind lost amidst the implications this had on him specifically. He remembered nights where he’d stay up, staring up at the starry skies that hung above his head like the crown he was promised to wear. He wondered that if instead he were born a girl much like Rhaenyra, and if his life would be remotely any different then it was now? Would he finally have Viserys’ eyes on him for once, shining brightly with pride whenever he entered the room instead of dimming with disgusts? Would he finally have the love and care that he had been deprived of all his life? Would he finally be the apple of his eye like Rhaenyra was and defend him and his illegitimate children from all discrepancies until his last breath? Turning a blind eye to his multiple shortcomings and protect him like a father should?

Whatever maybe the case, Aegon was born the first male during Viserys’ second marriage to Alicent. A fate he could not change no matter how much he would plead to the Gods, both old and new. The pressure that came with being the firstborn was never a task he was built for, Aegon never claimed to be strong enough to bear the accursed burden that befell all firstborns in Westeros. Nor did he claim to be strong enough to meet the expectations of his peers to become the perfect prince; For it seemed that no matter what he did it was met with either dismissal or disregard more so from his mother then anyone else. Aegon didn’t need to be told that he was unbefitting to become the future king, the troubled prince was more then aware that he was unfit to rule, unfit for duties he was unsuited.

If he could rid himself of the crown, the throne and strip away his titles, throwing them elsewhere without an ounce of regard for some other aristocratic nob who wants it, he would do so in a heartbeat. It was just unfortunate that he couldn’t. Aegon lost the right of growing up like a normal child; Forced to kill that version of himself with his own hand as his mind was plagued with thoughts that one day his step-sister would reclaim the Iron Throne that was promised on dragon back, taking his head with her as a consolation prize. He regretted it, regretted ever giving his mother the time of day to hear her indecent monologues about procuring the future, for not only him but his future kin also. The kin he firmly believed at one point that he was going to have with you, not Heleana.

Jaehearys and Jaeheara could’ve been yours and his children for when he has asked Alicent if there were ever any plans to have you marry him. She claimed it had been a thought in process that was immediately discarded with your younger brother, Lucaerys, took Aemond’s eye that night on Driftmark. Aegon didn’t know what hurt more, knowing he was originally meant to marry you or the fact that due to your rivalling families, it forced a wedge in your relationship; Causing an ever growing rift to grow between the two of you until it was apparent that neither of you couldn’t recognise the other anymore. Without wanting to be caught like a sitting duck, Aegon hastily rushed to his chambers; Changed out of his clothes to the assortment he wore whenever he payed the streets of silk a late night visit, to then take off into a secrete passage that lead him into town when he heard the sound of footsteps leading up to his chambers.

It didn’t take them long enough for Aegon’s liking to figure out that he had gone missing, seeing as he was still in the midst of locating a believable hiding spot. Then again he felt stupid for underestimating the very people who’s occupation were to oversee his comings and goings. While the Red Keep was filled to the brim with servants, gardeners, guards, knights and so forth; He was the future king of the Seven Realms so it made all the more sense for his recapture to become top priority over someone more replaceable. Aegon had to admit, they were quick to catch on that he had left but even quicker to discreetly dispatch the Kingsguard to go after him without raising suspicion within the public. Which only meant that it was a matter of time before he was brought back to the feet of his disappointed mother and grandfather kicking and screaming. Originally he was planning on hiding within The Great Sept but quickly disregarded it once he saw the cloaked hooded figure of his brother, Aemond and Ser Criston Cole.

Whom in Aegon’s honest opinion looked like a right nonce with that stupid hat on his head. The runaway Prince had to console his snickers behind his hand because the knight looked that stupid in his inconspicuous attire. If anonymity was what they were going for, they missed the mark by a mile but given his one reputation, Aegon couldn’t excuse himself from his own criticisms either. “Shit.” He hissed, pressing himself up against a nearby wall, when Aemond’s eye shifted in his direction. Despite being the eldest, Aemond somehow managed to put the fear of god in Aegon, sure he would take the piss now and then but it was comparatively light then to the teasing he dished out when they were younger. Another instance that the events on Driftmark truly changed the course of everything, if not then an indicator for even worse things to come. “You seen him my prince?” He heard Criston ask Aemond, clenching his eyes shut in hopes that his brother would give him mercy just this once.

“He went this way.” Aemond replied but instead of hearing footfalls coming towards him, they were heard going in the opposite direction of him. Aegon heaved a sigh of relief he didn’t know that he had been holding onto the entire time. Thanking the gods for once before peeling himself away from the wall and began making his way to his second option. The Dragon Pit. His backup plan was more hastily put together then his first, it wasn’t fool proof and it was bound to be intercepted should Aemond change his mind for leading the hunt elsewhere. Aegon surmised that if he could reach the pit before his captures caught up, he could take his dragon and fly to Dragonstone, to you; Proclaim Rhaenyra as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and hope for all responsibility to drop off his shoulders like deadweight so he could fixate on working your relationship to where it once was.

Aemond can have Heleana because all Aegon ever wanted was you; Growing up together since children, you were quite possibly the only person Aegon came to genuinely care for because you cared for him once upon a time ago. Your arms were the first thing he wanted to be within whenever Viserys or Alicent forgot that he too was a child; Holding him tightly as his tears soaked your shirt before helping nurse the blistering red hand marks upon his cheeks by means of a cold compress. Not only did Aegon remember you as kind but also as someone who was unafraid to go against the status quo, as you would often partake in sword training with your brothers, Jace and Luke, alongside Aemond and himself under the tutelage of Ser Criston Cole. The knight was against the idea of you joining at first but when you proven solidifying points as to why you should uptake a means of defence, he merely sighed before gesturing you to pick up a sword from the sword table.

The triumphant look upon your face was one that Aegon would never forget even as he was laying on his back, looking up at you as your sword poised at his throat. It was a look he’d rather have paint permanently upon your face, for the one he received the night he called yours and your family’s legitimacy into question before a thousand pair of eyes broke his heart. The betrayal written clearly within your eyes as you pressed your brothers beaten and bloodied faces into your side, away from sight. The lines in the sand of which you both stood for had been drawn and still to this day they were never crossed. Things only got worse when Vaemond outright called you, Jace and Luke bastards and your mother a whore before Daemon swiftly silenced him for good with Dark Sister. He and Aemond only made things even worse at the banquet for both families, soon after the fight erupted you had grown weary, tired and downright embarrassed that you slipped away to your chambers. Not uttering a single word about it to anyone.

Aegon wanted to right this wrong for awhile but never found the opportune moment. Which maybe due to his…habits and the fact that Alicent forbade him from doing so. “Where that bloody useless prince.” ‘For fucksakes.’ Aegon thought as he stood froze at how clear and crisp Arryk’s voice was. Which might as well insinuate that the whole Kingsgaurd was looking for him. Great. “Not here that’s for definite.” Erryk replied a little way aways. Aegon just had to peer his head round the alleyway, just as the twins were turning to face his direction. Neither him nor the twins moved for a split second as they stared one another down in awkward silence. It only grew more awkward when neither of them did anything until Aegon finally had enough and bolted down the street leading to the Dragon pit. “Oi get back here!” Arryk exclaimed, giving chase as Erryk followed suit although halfheartedly in comparison “He’s heading towards the Dragon Pit!” He shouted to his brother when noticing where the prince was leading them towards.

“He’s backed himself into a corner then the twat!” Arryk responded, confident in his ability in being the one to capture Aegon on Otto’s behalf; Meanwhile Erryk on the other hand made conscious efforts in slowing him and his brother down by tripping over his own feet and pulling his brother down in the process. “What the fuck are you doing Erryk, get off me?!” Arryk screamed, infuriated with his brothers constant fuck ups this morning. Aegon looked over his shoulder to see Erryk wave him away as he floundered with his brother on the cobblestone, mouthing the words ‘go’ as he struggles to restrain a red faced Arryk. The prince didn’t have to be told twice, he mustered up the last ounces of strength he had within; Running the final stretch of town and towards the entrance of the Dragon Pit before collapsing to his knees in exhaustion.

His lungs were begging for rest, his legs were throbbing and felt as though they’ve been set aflame, sweat laced his forehead and sticking strands of his unkept hair to it. Aegon smiled widely, resting his head against the cold stone flooring, sighing in relief. “I’m coming my beloved, just hold out a little longer.” He whispered to himself in an promise of sorts to himself; Removing the now filthied blue from his shoulders as it was beginning to weigh more then it should, allowing it to pool beside him in a heap. However nothing good ever lasted long enough to be savoured as a voice could be heard from behind Aegon. “Hate to cut your celebration short my prince but the running stops now.” Aegon didn’t move, he couldn’t, he had worn himself thin from all the running across town. “When will it get through any of your thick heads that I never wanted to be king.” He spat, unable to comprehend what part of his blatant rejection of the throne and all it entailed wasn’t clicking with any of them. Were they purely stupid or just didn’t care for how he thinks?

“That’s not your choice to make I’m afraid, so why don’t you be compliant to come back with me to Queen Alicent. She’s been worried sick about you.” Aegon couldn’t help but find humour within the irony of the knights words for he began to chuckle under his breath; Situating himself on the cushioning of his legs in an kneeling position, head flung back so he was staring up at the ceiling. “If she cared as much as you claimed then why didn’t she personally see to it then?” He asked as his throat tightened. Aegon was so close, so fucking close to leaving his accursed home for the one within your arms. Was he cursed to be apart from the one that he holds dear or had his luck with the gods ran dry? ‘Fuck.’ He thought bitterly to himself as frustrated tears began to well up in his eyes, much like they always did whenever he felt an abundance of an certain emotion that he couldn’t keep bottled up or express properly. He didn’t know when this habit came to be but deep down he knew it wasn’t one he was going to be shedding anytime soon.

“She has other more important matters to attend to then to personal see to your capture.” The knight replied, “now enough with the games and come-“ his words were interrupted as the guttural screech of Sunfyre could be heard growing ever closer as though affected by Aegon’s desire and frustration to be free. “Call off your pet.” The knight demanded of Aegon, yanking him by his hair. “I didn’t call him,” Aegon grunts, “he’s calling to me.” He smirks as he saw the life leave the knights face, “so I suggest that you let go of me before the Dragon Keepers are forced to scrap your charred corpse off of the premises.” The knight gulped, letting go of his short platinum locks. His eyes darted to whenever they could for the beast, unnerved by the sudden silence. So when nothing happened after sometime the knight snorted, then he chuckled before finally laughing until his stomach hurt. “Was that it?!” He cried, gripping Aegon’s hair once more, causing the prince to grunt, “was that your ultimate party trick? Hate to say it but I’m not impressed.”

Aegon saw from the corner of his eye Sunfyre’s shadow growing ever larger across the walls as he encroached up the slope. “Well if that didn’t please you I’m sure this one will,” he said, glancing at the knight before looking back to his dragon,“Dracarys.” The knight seemed confused for a moment as he turned to where Aegon was looking, his grip loosened enough for the prince to gain some distance just as the knight was bathed in dragonfire, screaming. Aegon wanted to savour this moment but Sunfyre had other motives as he grabbed Aegon’s exhausted form with his claws securely and wasted no time in flying out of the Dragon Pit and on course to Dragonstone.

[helaelaemond]

Aegmond + dry humping and a sprinkle of degradation (maybe Aegon tormenting Aemond like, "Was this why you did not care for that whore I paid for you, brother?")

HELAELAEMOND'S KINKTOBER

Pairing:  Aegon x Aemond

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Aemond tries to teach Aegon the basics of wrestling. Aegon is easily distracted.

Content warning(s): canon typical incest

KINK CATEGORIES: Dry humping, incest

Rating: E

Masterlist

"Keep your centre of balance low, lest you lose your balance!"

Aemond's voice is frustrated as he commands his elder brother. Aegon, trying to take something seriously for once, bends his knees and sways slightly on the balls of his feet.

"Good. Alright, the easiest way to incapacitate your opponent is by taking out one leg. Do you remember how to do this?"

"No." Aegon frowns slightly. "How do you?"

Aemond rolls up the sleeves of his loose shirt, his leather jerkin long since discarded. Aegon's room is warm in the autumn heat, and trying to teach him even the basics of wrestling that he has neglected for years is strenuous. "I pay attention when required."

Aegon makes a face in mockery, and Aemond bites the inside of his cheek to stop from berating him. "Fine. What now?"

"Look at how I am standing."

Aegon rakes his eyes appreciatively over his younger brother's form. He's lithe, tall, narrow, quite a man to look at now he's grown. He smirks slightly. "I am looking."

Aemond swallows. "Most opponents will have one leg in front of the other, whether it be conscious or otherwise. That is the leg you will aim for. Keep your balance low, and come closer."

Still crouching slightly, and feeling ridiculous for it, Aegon obeys.

"Now, press your chest against my thigh, and keep your head on the outside of my hip, lest I grasp it. At the same time, lock your arms around the back of my knee."

The elder does as he's told, the movements careful for once. Last time he'd been in Flea Bottom, Aegon had got in a scrap over a barmaid, and before Cargyle had stepped in, he had been knocked to the ground by a commoner. Humiliating, given how much training he has, but he is trained to fight fair. The scum of the streets do not know those rules.

He notices how Aemond tries to stay still for him, even though he seems uncomfortable. Is that...? No, Aegon must be seeing things. Things that make him grin again.

"Now brace your knee on the ground as you pull my own knee closer, and use your shoulder to push my hips."

The action is taken slowly by the elder, and he presses his shoulder experimentally against Aemond's hips to get the angle right. After a long moment of repeating each component, Aemond steps back. "Good. Now try it all in one go."

Aegon takes in a breath and nods, trying to remember it. He lunges quickly towards Aemond, keeping low, and does what he's been told. To his delight, Aemond ends up flat on his back, with his long leg around his brother's hip. He grunts quietly and nods, bright hair splayed around his head like a crown.

"As easy as that?" Aegon asks.

"Can be," comes the reply. "Not all of your opponents will be as pliant as I."

That sounds like a challenge, and Aegon smirks. He tries to keep the upper hand by leaning over him and grasping him by the throat, but Aemond is too quick. Before Aegon can even understand what's happening, their positions are flipped, and he's on his back with his little brother atop him.

Gods, it feels good. There's something so good about being taken control of like this, but still feeling entirely safe. It makes his cock hard. He looks up at Aemond and chuckles. "You like me on my back?"

Aemond lets go of him with a huff. "Don't be obscene."

Immediately, Aegon sits up and tries to grab him, and again, he's beaten easily. But this time, he locks his legs around his little brother's slender hips and keeps him close. "Ah, I thought I noticed that," he drawls. "Is this why you did not care for that whore I paid for, all those years ago? Should I have bought you a boy?"

Aemond's lip twitches in a snarl. "It's nothing."

"Are you a pillow-biter, little brother?" It's only a tease, though, and feeling Aemond's hard cock press against his own excites him. Wrestling him slowly like this has his blood running hot.

"Let me go."

"No. I think I'm going to enjoy this." He rolls his hips up a few times and bites his lip in pleasure. He grasps Aemond's face in his hands and watches him as he does it. The younger seems to like it, against all odds. "Ah, doesn't that feel good?"

In his loose breeches, his cock aches. He's thought of Aemond when he's touched himself before, and there's no shame in it. The other is a fine man. Handsome, noble, fearsome. Everything a Targaryen should be - and everything he is not. He wraps his legs tighter around him and grinds up harder.

"Gods," he swears. "Do you think about fucking me?"

"No." But Aemond's cheeks are red, and he's no longer trying to get free. He swallows thickly, and then, he begins to move, too. Hesitantly, he props himself up, and his elegant hands go to Aegon's waist.

"I think about fucking you," Aegon admits, grinning. "How could anyone love the likes of us, but each other, anyway?"

Aemond bites his lip, and he begins to set the pace. His breeches are loose, too, and it allows them both to feel everything. Aemond is as practically untouched as a virgin, Aegon is sure, and whilst he certainly isn't, having him between his thighs is making him almost delirious.

"Only a Targaryen can love a Targaryen," Aegon continues, cackling. "Do you love me, brother?"

Aemond grunts in response. His one good eye is fixed on the lumps in their trousers, watching how they rub together. His speed quickens and Aegon moans in appreciation.

"Oh, yes, just like that," he encourages. "I didn't know you had it in you! Go on, don't disappoint me."

Barely audible, Aemond mutters, "I won't."

Neither brother lasts long grinding together. Aegon's hands bury into Aemond's hair as he gets close, and he pulls it roughly as he spills, his name on his lips. Aemond follows quickly, nothing more than a stifled moan sounding in his throat. Aegon looks between them in satisfaction to see the little wet patch on Aemond's breeches.

He thinks about licking him clean. Another time, perhaps. His heart is racing from his orgasm, and he feels as light as a feather on the stone floor of his chamber. Thighs go loose and he lets him go. Aemond kneels in front of him for a moment, before standing up.

He runs a hand through his hair, and walks over to the window and back, before helping Aegon to his feet. "Well. Shall we continue?"

Aegon smirks. "Certainly. You shall teach me yours ways, and I shall teach you mine."

[crescenthoax]

“Please. Make me forget. It's over. I know it’s over. It's over. But I no longer know who I am.”

“(…) You speak of survival, yet what you truly desire is victory. You cloak this delicate ego of yours beneath the guise of a yearning for peace. At what cost, Annika? What kind of victory is it the one who begets more adversaries and puts further walls between you and the world?”

i’m never gonna love (again) – chapter xxxiv

[presidenthades]

Hi! I remember you mentioning that Laenor was pro-Aegon and supported his intentions with his daughter... I was wondering if we could have a oneshot of Laenor and little Aegon and Jace(?) It would be really nice to see a little bit of how Aegon and Jace's story was built from the perspective of a character we don't normally hear much about. We had a whole series of Daemon complaining about the Targbros now we need Laenor to be a cool dad dealing with his future good son (Laenor's romantic ass would have been so proud of Aegon and his love for little Jace ✨️🥲) pretty please? 🙏😭

Ooooooh this ask just gave me all the warm fuzzies 🥹🥹🥹

OK I will now be pondering how to write a Laenor POV. A threeshot actually sounds pretty appealing, so we can get his thoughts on all of his daughters—although the Joff chapter would be full of spoilers for her fic, so that chapter would probably have to wait. But there shouldn’t be anything spoilery in the Jace chapter, so I could write that one whenever I have the time…

Thanks for the idea!!

[faces-ofvenus]

Imagining a girl who came from our world, when she is asked which song makes her think of the guy she likes and she puts on "A Watch Into Water" for Aegon but doesn't say who it is dedicated to, then Aegon calls her a few days later and has a lute that will play a love song that reflects everything he feels for her.

You tried to say something but Aegon brought his fingers to his mouth in a sign of silence, as his eyes made contact you just felt butterflies in your stomach, this could all be a dream, one hour you were in your room, the next in a universe where dragons and witches existed, and you were here, in the room with a prince with white hair and beautiful lilac eyes, and he seemed perfect, he made your heart beat as furiously as the sounds of the crashing waves, like a crazy destructive tsunami, you mentally hummed "A Watch Into Water" the song you played earlier, explaining all the overwhelming feelings that only he made you feel.

- Say nothing my sweet traveler from another world, I admit that maybe I'm not as good with words as you are, they might even say that that song you played was nothing but scary, but when it comes to you, to us I feel that only the two of us would understand each other, and I haven't seen anything but the melody and that can explain everything I feel for you, my mind is so clouded with the drugs I ingest in the form of liquids, that for me move me like water moves a human being, but sincerely beyond them the only thing that makes me live is the possibility of an existence with you, and that maybe that song as disturbing as my overwhelming feelings for you is not directed to a drunken prince like me, maybe it's for Aemond, Jacaerys until Daeron or Lucerys, but I want to dedicate to you even so this song that tells all my feelings for you, feelings that only you could understand.

[elliewlums]

aegon sucks ur tits to relax/calm down. & he also does it unconsciously, you’re not surprised to wake up to him sucking.

REAL!! this boy has a hardcore mommy kink i feel it in my balls

content warnings: non sexual nudity, tits in mouf, aegon is so babygirl

imagining him prying back your silk nightgown to reach your tits, wrapping his arms around your middle and nestling in comfortably. he moulds himself to your own body and as soon as his mouth closes around the malleable flesh there, he goes soft and lax.

you wake to him dozing, your skin littered with dark marks where he’s gotten overzealous. he grumbles but is quickly coaxed back down by your hands in his flaxen tresses, scratching at his scalp. he practically purrs at the affection, not unlike a cat where he leans into your hands. you run your thumb across the creases in his forehead, smoothing the tension he holds.

“sweet boy,” you coo. he snakes an arm beneath the fabric of your gown and rakes his short fingernails across your bare back. you sigh appreciatively, twirling loose strands of blonde and tucking them away from his face.

he can count on you for moments of reprieve; and no matter what his days hold, he’s comforted by the fact that he always has you to come back to.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

A Fine Line [part 4]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!

Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader

Word Count: ~7k (holy shit)

Author’s Note: I am so sorry that this took so long! I wanted to give a special thanks to @queen-helaena & @persephonerinyes for their feedback and direction on this chapter! Also, my personal Baela, @felteppsters for her daily duty of being my best friend. I will get the next chapter out as soon as I can, I promise it will be less than the six or so months it took me to write this bitch.

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, language, alcohol use, recreational drug use.

Masterlist (it's been so long you might need a refresher)

Playlist here (be sad with me)

It was light out when you heard the front door open and close. A soft groan escaped your lips as you stretched; fatigue deep in your bones from a restless night. You quirked your brow as you glanced at the window. The remnants of a pink and purple sunrise were painted in the early Saturday morning sky.

His feet shuffled against the hardwood floor. Your eyes were fixed on the bedroom wall as you heard the door open. He was fully clothed when he fell into the bed next to you; still had his shoes on, even. The faint smell of clove cigarettes still lingered on his skin. A sigh escaped his lips as he nestled himself into the mattress as if everything were perfectly fine. You shot up quickly, turning to face him; your tongue burning with all of the words that you wanted to say to him, but you just couldn't bring yourself to actually speak them.

So you don't say anything.

You don't say anything as you sit cross-legged in the living room floor; folding his laundry as he sat on the couch eating the breakfast that you cooked, drinking the coffee that you made, laughing at whatever stupid TV show was on. You don't say anything as you stood next to him at the kitchen counter, fixing yourself a plate of dinner. You don't say anything as he crawled into bed with you that night and kissed you on the cheek.

No, instead you put it away. Just like everything else. And for the next three days you hardly say anything to each other, and if you did speak, it was 'dinner is ready' or the occasional 'have a good day'. You ate in separate rooms and he had started falling asleep in his office. It was the first time since you had started dating that the silence had become this loud. Sure, you hadn't had sex in almost a year, and more often than not he just felt like a roommate to you, but the silence had becoming deafening.

It was actually Aemond who had encouraged you to bite the bullet and be the first to say something. You'd been texting back and forth since the bowling alley. It was a weird feeling, teetering between guilt and giddiness, whenever you saw his name pop up on your screen. Nevertheless, you appreciated his company, even if it was just through text. It was more communication than you were getting from your own boyfriend and best friend; you'd never known Baela to be so busy, but every time you asked if she wanted to hang out or have a glass of wine over FaceTime, she was otherwise occupied.

Wednesday night, after you had put away the leftovers and finished the dishes, you had found yourself standing in the threshold of his office. It was a room you hardly visited and the art on the walls looked foreign to your eyes; almost making you feel awkward to stand in what felt like his space. You watched as he was reading his emails; quietly speaking to himself, saying all of the things he wished he could respond back with. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even noticed you standing there.

"Aegon?" You asked and he flinched slightly.

"Hey!" His body softened and he gave you a tired smile. "What's up?"

"It's Wednesday," you shrugged. "Did you want to come down and watch our show together?"

"Oh," he sighed. His hunched shoulders fell. "I have so much work that I'm trying to catch up on, and it's getting late."

You bit your lip and nodded, but lingered against the doorframe. His fingers went back to typing on the keyboard, undoubtedly waiting for you to make your exit. After a few moments, he looked back up at you, obviously confused as to why you were still there.

"Is everything okay, love?" He asked.

The things that you wanted to say made your mouth taste fowl as they lingered on your tongue. How long could you keep up the charade? How long could he? You were holding on the crumbling foundations of your relationship, silently begging for him to help you save it, and he still did nothing. This was the part where you wondered if he even realized that you were one foot out the door, with your bags nearly packed, or if he'd even care.

How many times had you rehearsed what you would say to him? He was sitting right there, asking you, waiting for your answer. Yet, you still couldn't bring yourself to say it.

And the cycle continues.

"Yeah," you say with a small smile and push yourself off of the door frame. "Don't stay up too late working," you told him. "You deserve a break, you know?"

"A break," he laughed dryly. "You're funny."

You turned to head back downstairs but before you could reach the first step, Aegon's voice stopped you.

"Hey," he said softly and you turned back to him. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

The words left your lips with ease but their weight lingered. At this point, you couldn't tell if they were genuine or the easy, default response. The doubt was planted; sprouting like a garden sick with disease in your mind. The more it grew, the more you wondered if this was all that there was to it after four years. Was this the end of your relationship? Would you do anything at all to salvage it? Would he? It couldn't be that easy to unravel everything you had built together, and yet it was; all it would take were two words, just two. A simple acknowledgement that things weren't working out and then someone decides who stays and who goes.

It's over.

It was the smell of bacon that woke you the next morning.

Your body ached from a restless night as you sat up, stretching your arms above your head before reaching for your phone. Your brows furrowed as you read the date and time, almost having forgotten it was Thursday. It had been years since Aegon had cooked breakfast, let alone in the middle of the week. You quickly shifted out of the bed, shuffling down the hall before stopping in the threshold of the kitchen.

He was at the stove, humming softly as he turned down the heat on the bacon. For a moment, you were taken back to when he'd wake up early and cook breakfast on the weekends. You'd wrap your arms around him as he worked, swaying back and forth as music played over the little bluetooth speaker that sat on the counter. He wasn't someone who spent a lot of time in the kitchen, but he knew how to get the bacon just right and his scrambled eggs were always perfectly fluffy.

"Morning," he greeted as you stepped into the room. You slowly approached him and wrapped your arms around his middle, placing a small kiss between his shoulders. You felt him tense for a moment before he relaxed in your arms.

"What's the occasion?" You asked, reaching around him for a slice of bacon. "Figured you'd be at work by now."

"I'm taking the morning off," he shrugged as you moved to his side, leaning against the counter. He pulled the last few strips of bacon off of the pan and laid them across the cooling rack before turning the stove off completely. "I really wanted to spend some time with you, if you can spare it."

Your lips turned softly into a smile, "I think I can manage."

He stepped in front of you, his hands finding their place on your hips, gently pinning you against the counter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss. He lingered there, forehead pressed to yours as he sighed against your lips. Despite everything, you craved these moments with him. Your body still reacted in such an automatic way to his touch that it was almost enough to make you forget it all.

Almost.

You didn't want to question it, but an unsettling suspicion lingered in your chest that there was more to his actions than just wanting to spend some quality time with you. After all, it had been months since he had shown any interest in you in that regard.

"I do have ulterior motives, however," he mentioned.

There it is.

"I knew there was something behind all of this," you sighed with a quick roll of your eyes.

You went to step around him but he stopped you, lifting you at the hips so that you were sitting on the counter. You brace yourself for what is about to be said. The short silence echoed throughout the room as he weighed his words. Instinctively, your negative thoughts fill in the blank as he nudges himself between your knees and looks up at you with a pout. You can almost see the infidelity in his eyes, and you know that he can see the apprehension in yours..

"Don't, it's not like that," he said quietly and you exhale a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding in. "My mother is hosting a dinner tonight, celebrating the return of her favorite son, and I'd really like you to be there."

Your eyebrows raised with surprise.

"Are you sure?" You ask tenderly as you move a strand of hair from his face, suddenly feeling guilty for thinking so poorly of him. His blue eyes were downcast, unmoving from your lap where his thumbs drew circles in the skin of your thighs.

"I don't even want to go," he muttered. "But, I'm obligated to and I want you to be with me," he took a breath before looking up to meet your gaze; you could see the sincerity in his blue eyes. "It would mean a lot to me if you were there."

"Okay," you agreed and he leaned forward with a thankful sigh, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. Your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, fingers instinctively twirling in his hair. "Why don't we go get back in bed?"

He lifts his head and places another kiss on your forehead, breathing out as he does so, "I wish I could, but I've got to go pick up the dry cleaning."

"Send someone to go get it for you," you sigh and groan, tilting your head back in annoyance allowing Aegon to place a chaste kiss to your neck.

"Mhm," he breathes with his lips still pressed to your skin. "I could."

"You should," you whisper.

Aegon hums in response as his lips trail across your clavicle. His hands gripped at your waist, squeezing as you both leaned deeper into this moment. He pulled you forward by the hips, allowing your legs to wrap around him. His hands slid slowly up your thighs, fingertips teasingly playing along the bottom hem of your shorts. You breathed out, bringing your hands to his jaw and pulling him up to meet your lips.

You couldn't remember the last time he had kissed you like this- the last time he touched you like this. Three words clung to your lips as they parted to say, "I miss you", but before they could take form, the abrupt sound of Aegon's cell vibrating on the countertop pulled you back down to a harsh reality. He pulls away reluctantly, a mixture of frustration and obligation on his face as he sighs.

"No," you whine. "You took the morning off."

He steps back away from you, and your hands instinctively reach out for him, hoping to provide an anchor. You can't help but feel disappointed as he answers the phone; Otto's disgruntled voice faint on the other end, screaming. Aegon, deeply apologetic towards his grandfather, hurries out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his office, leaving you sitting on the counter with two plates of untouched breakfast and a sickening feeling of disappointment.

One step forward, two steps back; like playing the fucking Hokey Pokey with your relationship. You sat there for a moment, allowing the feeling of his now absent touch to linger on your skin, wondering if you'd ever become numb to it. You gently slide from the counter, your feet resting flat on the cool tile, and let out a small sigh as you begin disassociating and staring out the kitchen window.

The rest of the day seemed just as monotonous.

Your mind was in a fog as you thought ahead to dinner with the Targaryen-Hightower household. Your expectations of the evening were uncertain, given the limited information you possessed about Aegon's family. You knew Aemond, and you knew enough about Otto Hightower to form an opinion- albeit not a very positive one. He never talked about his father, and the only interactions he had with his mother were when he was ignoring her phone calls. There had been a few times Aegon had mentioned his sister, Helaena, who he described as 'creative' and 'artsy'. You also had heard him mention his youngest brother, Daeron, a few times; he would call every now and then, Aegon never ignored his calls.

There was also the half-sister, Rhaenyra, from his father's first marriage. She was typically referred to as 'dad's favorite'. You knew the most about her, only because she was quite vocal in interviews, discussing her father's health and the potential scandal surrounding the succession of his business.

"What do I wear to this sort of dinner party?" You texted Aemond. The same text that you had sent Aegon hours ago hadn't received a response, and as the hours passed you grew increasingly nervous.

"Something formal but it is just a dinner," his reply came quickly, followed by a second text. "I would stay away from the color green, however."

"Noted, thanks!"

Baela was typing away on her keyboard furiously next to you as you turned to face her in your chair. She had a red gel pen stuck behind her ear and her eyebrows were furrowed as she worked. She had been particularly quiet, which was unlike her. Typically you couldn't get her nor Jace to stop bickering over the cubicle wall long enough to think of a single sentence to write.

You chewed on your lip for a moment before you decided to swivel your chair to face her, reaching for the jar of green M&M's on the island that separated your desks. "Hey, you got a minute for me?" You ask as you pop a few of the candies into your mouth, hoping to break the ice.

"Hm?" She hums but her fingers are still typing. You toss an M&M at her and she turns completely to face you. Her expression softens when you smile at her, "I'm sorry, I've just been swamped with this new project Jason put me on this week."

"Is there anything that I can help you with?" You ask, not even knowing that Jason had her working on something new.

Baela shakes her head, "I appreciate you, always, but Jace has been doing some extra credit for me."

You laugh softly, although you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that she hadn't asked you. "That's probably best, he could use something to do."

"So, what's up?" Baela asked, getting to the point.

"Aegon invited me to a dinner with his family," your friend's eyebrows immediately shot up in surprise and you nodded. "I've never met any of them and I have no clue what to wear. Aemond said it would be 'formal' but it's still 'just a dinner', and Aegon- he didn't say anything."

"D'you ever find out what happened to him Friday night?" She asked.

You shook your head and frowned, "I could really use some girl time, if you could spare it."

At precisely 4:59 PM you and Baela both rolled yourselves out from underneath your desks and grabbed your coats. The snow was barely sticking to the pavement, and a thick, dense fog hung over the city as you stepped out of the office; the two of you arm-in-arm, laughing about something that had happened earlier at work. You were thankful for her company, as the last few days had felt particularly lonely. Plus, you were hoping to get a chance to talk to her about her new work assignment and how her week had been.

Aegon wasn't home when you got there. At this point, you wouldn't be surprised if he'd come through the door just to tell you that the dinner had been cancelled last minute; and you, standing in the middle of the living room, all dressed up for nothing. He wouldn't even acknowledge the effort you had put in to looking good for him. You allowed that scenario to play out in your mind as Baela poured you a glass of wine. She was talking about Jace, but your attention was elsewhere; unable to decide if you would be relieved if the dinner was cancelled or disappointed. You did want to see Aemond, and you did want to be there to support Aegon, but the potential drama that the evening held had you on edge.

"I can always tell when you're not listening to me," she laughed as she took a sip of her wine. She had a lock of your hair wrapped around the curling iron as you sat on the toilet in your bathroom.

"I'm sorry," you frowned, knowing that you hadn't heard a single word she had said about her new work project.

"You've got a lot going on," she said softly. "Talk to me."

"It's just Aegon," you sighed. "It feels like our relationship has been dead in the water for almost two years and we're both just holding on to nothing."

"Have you talked to him?" Baela asked, moving on to another section of hair. You tossed a hand up, trying to keep your head as straight as still as possible. "You need to talk to him, Y/N."

"What is there to talk about?" You asked with a defeated sigh.

"There is everything to talk about," and she was right. Baela was always right when it came to relationship advice. "You can't just decide to throw away four years because he's not being a good boyfriend right now. Aegon loves you, it's so obvious, he just seems stressed. Maybe he's going through something, maybe it's his family, have you even asked?"

You shook your head, not wanting to continue this conversation any longer. Just because Baela was always right, didn't mean that it was what you wanted to hear. Sometimes you just wanted someone to confirm your suspicions, or tell you that he was being a dumbass for pushing you away, or that you should break up with him and free yourself from the emotional torment that you were experiencing daily just from staying in this relationship.

You were his girlfriend, not his therapist. It wasn't your responsibility to sit him down and figure out why he was no longer putting forth any effort into making this work. All that should have mattered was the fact that he wasn't, because to you, that was a direct reflection of how much he cared. The bar was on the floor, it wouldn't take much at all for him to give you something. Yet, he couldn't even do that. He did just enough to make you feel like the fact that you were still hanging on was worth it, but you knew that it wasn't.

It was only a matter of time.

"All done," Baela said shortly after. You took a look at yourself in the mirror and smiled at her through the reflection; she had such impeccable skills with a curling iron and your hair looked perfect.

"Now we just have to figure out an outfit," you smiled.

"What about that one green dress you wore to the office Christmas party?" She asked as she followed you to the bedroom. "I love that dress, I have been meaning to ask if I could borrow it."

"You absolutely can," you replied and threw open your closet door, pulling that specific dress out on the hanger and laying it on the bed for Baela. "Aemond said that I should stay away from the color green, though, I have no idea why."

"How oddly specific," she chuckled as she smoothed her hands over the fabric of the dress. "I have a date next week, and this is perfect."

"A date?" You asked, eyebrows raining in suspicion.

"Yeah," she smiled. "It's kind of new but he's really sweet, he makes me all giddy. Like kicking my feet while we talk on the phone kind of giddy."

"So that's why you haven't been answering my FaceTime calls," your tone was light, but with your back to her, you couldn't help but frown. You remembered how giddy Aegon used to make you feel. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to make you smile. "I'm happy for you, B."

You were being sincere and she knew that.

"Alright," you took a breath, shoving those memories back down where they belonged and turned towards the bed. "I think I have it narrowed down to the red or the blue."

"The red says 'look at me'," she says and joins you at your side. "You don't want that kind of attention right now, go with the blue."

"You're right."

The dress was boring, but it still accentuated your curves, and was the perfect choice for a semi-formal family dinner. As you stood in front of your mirror, putting the finishing touches on your outfit, you could heard the front door open and close. Baela's eyes connected with you through the mirror and you gave her a soft smile.

"Babe," you heard Aegon say from the threshold of your bedroom. You turned to see him standing in the doorway. "Baela," he smiled and nodded his head at her. "The car is waiting."

"Doesn't your girlfriend look absolutely incredible?" Baela asked, obviously proud of the work she had done.

"Sure," his face was flat. "You look great."

Your smile fell- along with every bit of your confidence- as he turned back down the hallway without so much as another word. You turned back to Baela; giving her a look as if to say, 'this is exactly what I mean', but she only returned it by squeezing your shoulders and giving you a reassuring smile.

"Maybe he's just nervous?" She's trying to play devil's advocate.

You knew it wasn't true, you knew that he just didn't care, and trying to convince yourself otherwise was exhausting at this point.

"Yeah," you agree with a frown and grab your clutch from the bed.

The Targaryen-Hightower residence was a sprawling, water-front mansion about 45 minutes north of Manhattan in Greenwich, Connecticut; what Business Insider claims is the richest neighborhood in the United States. The car ride there was silent, save for the soft sounds of talk radio coming through the speakers. You kept your gaze trained out the window, avoiding making any type of small-talk with Aegon as he drove. He kept his focus on the road, his face becoming more pained with anxiety with each mile you drew closer.

He sighed as he turned the car into the driveway, and you reached across the center console to place your hand on his thigh to show your support. Even though you felt indifferent towards him at the moment, you knew that tonight would be difficult for everyone involved. You may not have ever witnessed the dynamic of this family first-hand, but if Aegon was right about any of it, the mood would be dysfunctional.

The valet opened the door and Aegon held his hand out to you, no doubt putting on a display for anyone who may have been watching. There was a figure waiting at the door; her wavy, red hair glowing like a halo- or Devil's horns- from the overhead lights in the foyer where she stood. Immediately you noticed the emerald green dress that she was wearing, now knowing exactly why Aemond had steered you away from that option.

"I didn't think you'd come," Mrs. Hightower said softly to her son as you stepped through the door. She reached out to hug Aegon, who only stiffened as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders before placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I didn't want to," Aegon replied curtly.

"Aegon," his mother spoke sternly, as her gaze fell upon you. "This was meant to be an intimate family gathering."

"Please tell me we can't stay, I'd love nothing more than to go home," he spoke in a low tone, a touch of annoyance evident in his words. You pretended to be interested in a painting adorning the foyer wall where you lingered, still waiting to be formally invited in. "Y/N is my family, mother, more so than anyone in this house."

"Aegon," she warned with a sigh.

He moved to step around her and called back to you, "shall we?"

"Just a moment," Alicent continued, holding her index finger up to her son. Aegon sighed, his jaw was clenched. "I'd like to speak with Ms. Y/L/N alone for a moment."

Aegon swallowed and glanced down at you. His lips pursed as he nodded slowly, realizing he couldn't spare you from what was likely to be an uncomfortable encounter. "I'll be in the dining room, okay? It's just through those doors, there."

You nodded and he planted a short kiss on your cheek. Turning, you noticed Alicent standing at the base of the painting you had been admiring just moments ago. She didn't seem old enough to have four grown children, and for some reason, that unsettled you. Her red hair cascaded down her back as she gazed up at the painting, a tight but sad smile playing on her lips as you watched her.

"This painting is worth more than you'll make in a lifetime, you know," she stated coldly. "You should feel privileged to even look upon it." Your brows furrowed at her words. Before you could respond, she continued, "I understand that by you being here our family affairs are at risk of being publicized. Consider it a warning when I say that your career would also be at risk if you chose to do so."

You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to roll your eyes, steadying yourself before responding, "Your concerns are valid, Mrs. Hightower, but I'm here for Aegon not a story," her expression tightened as you held her gaze. The tension in the air lingered, but you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

You didn't breathe until you stepped through the dining room doors. Your eyes immediately found Aemond as you stepped into the room. His concentrated gaze shifted down your body slowly, taking in your appearance, and you could only hope that this navy blue dress was working for you in the way that you wanted; though, the approval was evident in his stare and in the faintest smirk on his lips.

When you finally looked at Aegon, his face was undoubtedly apologetic. He offered a small smile as he poured you a glass of wine and gestured it towards you. "She didn't say anything particularly cruel, did she?"

"Nah," you replied with sarcasm and sipped from the wine glass he handed you. "She only threatened my career."

"She's harmless," Aemond interjected.

"Harmless isn't a word I would use to describe our mother," a girl you could only presume was their sister, Helaena, added as she reached her hand out to you. "I'm Helaena, by the way, it's nice to meet you."

"Shit, sorry," Aegon cleared his throat. "Y/N, this is Helaena."

You chuckled at his late attempt to introduce you to his sister and shook her hand, "it's nice to meet you, too! I've heard a lot about you."

"And I've heard absolutely nothing about you," she gave Aegon a look before glancing back at you. "No offense."

"None taken," you smiled, brushing her comment off.

"Forgive me for wanting to keep my relationship away from this poisonous family," Aegon argued as he slumped down in his chair.

The door to the dining room opened and Otto Hightower stepped over the threshold. Aegon sighed loudly, slumping even further in his chair upon seeing his grandfather. You had never met him, but you had watched him in countless interviews. He took his role as Chief Operating Officer very seriously and you respected him as a businessman. However, you despised him for the chokehold that he had on your boyfriend; for the fact that he was singlehandedly responsible for ruining so many moments over the last two or so years, including one this morning.

It was strange to watch the way this family interacted as an outsider.

Aegon was visibly displeased to see his grandfather, and yet Helaena jumped out of her seat to give the old man a tight hug before showing him a video on her phone; her smile was bright as the two of them laughed together. Then, your eyes flitted over to Aemond whom was seemingly unfazed by his grandfather's presence; sitting calm and collected at the head of the table, his blue gaze caught your stare and his lips turned up slightly before you averted your eyes back to Aegon who was actively trying to drown himself in wine.

When Alicent entered the room, the mood shifted once again. She silently took her seat next to her father and signaled for the waitstaff to begin bringing in the food before she unfolded a napkin across her lap. Otto leaned to whisper something in her ear, to which she shook her head in response.

"Are we not waiting for father?" Aegon asked, his eyes slightly narrowed at his mother.

"Your father is in no condition to join us," Alicent's tone was sharp as she looked directly at you.

It was then that you realized Viserys Targaryen wouldn't be joining his family simply because you were there. They had done an excellent job at keeping the specifics of his health condition private and it was clear that they wouldn't be taking any chances. The look Alicent gave you from across the table was enough to make you feel small; you could see in her eyes the blame she placed upon you, as if it was your fault why her husband wouldn't be joining the rest of the family. Aegon reached his hand under the table and squeezed your thigh gently and you looked up at him.

You could tell that he now regretted his decision to invite you.

The first course had been served; the sound of forks and knives scraping porcelain plates echoed through the otherwise silent dining room. At one point you had mentioned that the food was delicious, but your comment seemed to fall upon deaf ears. When the waitstaff arrived to collect the plates and bring out the second course, you thanked them, but were only met with tight-lipped smiles.

You hated every moment you spent sitting at this table. You hated the antique furnishings, the polished candelabras, the wallpaper, the fact that the china you were eating off of probably cost more than a year's salary. You wondered if it had been like this for all of Aegon's life or if there was ever a flicker of normalcy. Suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to call your parents and thank them for the childhood you had so obviously taken for granted.

Aegon finished what was his third glass of wine, and before he could even set the glass down, a butler was on the way with the rest of the bottle for a refill. You wanted to say something, but were terrified of drawing attention to yourself, so you settle for looking at him; hoping to convey your concerns silently.

It was Helaena who broke the silence as the second course was served. Her voice was soft and hesitant, but at least she was trying.

"So, Y/N, how long have you and Aegon been together?" She asked you with small smile. Unlike her mother, Helaena exuded sincerity; she seemed to actually care to get to know you.

"We'll be celebrating our four year anniversary next week," you smiled, but it immediately disappeared when you looked at Aegon; his boozy gaze remaining downcast on the table in front of him.

When the words left your lips, you heard Alicent chuckle. Both you and Aegon, and everyone else at the table looked over to her. She laughed again, covering her mouth with her hand this time, "I'm sorry, four years?"

"Why is that funny?" Aegon asked, his jaw clenched.

"It's just that- before tonight- I don't think anyone here knew you even existed," she laughed again, digging her metaphorical knife into your side just that much more.

"We shouldn't have come," Aegon said as he pushed his untouched dinner away from him. He stood up and grabbed your hand, "we're leaving."

Before you could respond, the dining room door opened and your eyes widened as Viserys Targaryen struggled into the room with a walking cane. Behind him, a nurse followed closely with a wheelchair. Alicent immediately rushed to his side, allowing him to hold onto her for support.

"Aemma, where is Rhaenyra?" He looked around the room, almost panicked, before his eyes fell upon his daughter, "Rhaenyra?"

"It's Helaena, Dad," she frowned, unable to meet her father's gaze.

"This is supposed to be a family dinner, was it not?" He asked, his strained voice becoming louder with each word. "Where is my daughter? Where is Rhaenyra? I- I need Rhaen- I need to tell her-"

"My dear," Alicent spoke softly as she tried to reassure her husband, motioning for the nurse to pull the wheelchair up behind him so that he could sit and rest. "Rhaenyra couldn't make it, she apologizes, she and Daemon will come to visit soon."

She turned towards the table and excused herself before she helped a tired Viserys back out of the dining room and down the hall.

"Let's get out of here," Aegon muttered to you.

"No," Otto interjected as he continued to eat; completely unfazed by anything that had just happened. Aegon groaned, knowing what was coming. "We need to discuss the Stark account, the board meets tomorrow and there are still details we must go over."

"We can discuss this in the morning," Aegon answered pointedly.

"The board meets in the morning," Otto argued. "There's no time. I advised you of this earlier that we would need to finalize it tonight. I am sure your guest won't mind waiting."

Otto looked at you and smiled curtly. You glanced up at Aegon, his expression regretful, and nodded at him to let him know you'd be okay. He promised he wouldn't be long, but you knew better. It didn't take but a few moments after they had left before Helaena also excused herself, leaving you and Aemond alone at the table, as the kitchen staff began cleaning around the two of you.

A breath that you weren't even aware that you had been holding blew through your lips and you could hear Aemond chuckle softly.

"First time?" He asked and you almost laughed out loud.

"What gave me away?" You asked with a smirk as you took a sip of your wine. "Is it always like this?"

He tilted his head to the side, back and forth, a few times before he answered, "We have a tendency to be a bit intense."

"A bit," you snickered as you placed your wine glass back on the table.

"Would you like to take a walk?" He asked. You looked at him for a moment before checking over your shoulder for any sign of Aegon returning. "They'll most likely be a while."

"You're probably right," you answered. "Some fresh air does sound good."

Aemond helped you into your coat and scarf and guided you out to the back terrace. The frigid, early February air bit mercilessly at your cheeks, but the sight of the full moon reflecting off of the water was worth the potential frostbite. You walked through a small garden, past empty concrete fountains, as he led you down to the water.

He held out his hand to you as he stepped out onto the floating dock; it shifted beneath the weight of him, but he stood steady, waiting for you to take a step further and join him. You took his hand and followed, trying to ignore the warmth that gathered in your chest at the feeling of his touch. He didn't let you go until you had reached the end of the dock and could hold onto the railing for support; leaning against it, you cross your arms over your chest and look out across the Sound. It was quiet, save for the lapping of the water against the rocks and the faint rhythm of Aemond's breathing.

"Thank you," you say softly, the warmth of your words swirling around you in the cold air.

Aemond turns his back to the water and leans against the railing. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, silver flask, taking a sip and making a face before holding it out to you, "what for?"

"For the distraction," you take the flask, fingertips brushing against his as you did so. It's whiskey, and you cough at the taste, but it warms your cheeks.

"What are friends for?" He asks with a soft smile. "I've been meaning to ask, did he ever say where he was Friday night?"

"I didn't ask," you admit. "He never brought it up."

"Hm," he hummed. "My brother is an idiot, but I would hope he wouldn't be foolish enough to-" He trails off, catching your eyes from the side before averting his gaze back out at the water. "Nevermind."

"Foolish enough to what?" You ask, already knowing the answer, to which Aemond only sighs in response. "You think he could be cheating on me."

"I'm only saying that he doesn't have a great track record," he turns to face you. "He's been known to be a bit thoughtless in the past."

You only nod your head as a silence falls between the two of you.

Thoughtless wasn't a word that you would have ever used to describe Aegon- not at first, not about you. People do change, and both you and Aegon had certainly changed in the last four years.

It would explain a lot and it would make things easier if he were cheating on you, however. You'd have a reason, an out, and you wouldn't have to worry about the guilt that came with breaking his heart just because you wanted more effort than what he was willing to give you. Though, it did hurt to think that he might have been putting in that effort with someone else.

In the distance you heard the faint sound of laughter and turned to see Aegon and Helaena sharing a hug and saying goodbye. You looked up at Aemond and gave him a sad smile, knowing that the evening was coming to an end. You weren't sure when you would see him again, but you already hoped that it would be sooner than later.

"In the case that no one has told you," he mentioned quietly, his elbow softly nudging you as you both walked back towards the house. "You look incredible tonight."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," you laughed.

"Maybe," he smirked. "Doesn't make it any less true."

"Don't forget about my art show," Helaena reminded Aegon one last time as you and Aemond joined them. "I know you are the worst when it comes to remembering things, but it would mean a lot to me if you were there. Y/N, I hope to see you there, as well!"

"Wouldn't miss it," you reply with a smile.

"I won't forget," Aegon groans sarcastically as he gives his sister one last hug before turning his attention to his brother.

They step off to the side and you turn back to Helaena.

"Sorry about dinner," she adds. "I promise some of us actually know how to have a good time."

"I believe it," you laugh. "I am dating your brother."

"Yeah, and he's typically the fun one," she smiled back. "You guys seem good for each other, though. I'm glad he finally found someone to be serious about."

You nod your head as you look over at Aegon; he's laughing with his brother as he takes a swig from Aemond's flask. You were happy to see that he was much more relaxed than he had been earlier, something his siblings seemed to bring out of him. He caught your stare and gave you a goofy smile before mentioning something to Aemond who then looked over at you.

The feelings you felt towards your boyfriend, and the feelings you tried your hardest not to feel for his brother were fighting a civil war inside of you. You hoped that it wasn't obvious that you were being ripped apart from the inside out, because if it was, you were in trouble.

But as you stood there, looking at the both of them, you knew you were in trouble no matter what.

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[balbigalum]

Your writing is so wonderfully vivid! (If your box is still open to requests I’ll slap one below ).

Iron-born (Greyjoy) ward tells Aegon that they’ll take him as a salt—wife.

They were just jesting as they were both children and barely knew what that meant…but Aegon remembers and fantasies about it. The idea of escaping leaving but not alone.

He wants to be a anonymous person/well kept paramour as they sail the map and Sunfrye follows them.

Up to you if this is just a fantasy they talk about or one they achieve

“Aegon…I don’t have any boats on me right now. I’m a ward not a pirate.”

“I’ll get you one”

“I guess you’ll just dye your hair brown and pretend your beloved Sunfrye is a large bird?!”

“Good idea! You’ll dye my hair of course?”

(this is long as shit and hasn't been beta read not even by myself so feel free to point out any mistake)

okay so this made me go find my copy of ACOK to get the definition of salt-wife as accurate as possible. i imagine reader being maybe a third-born daughter, maybe after a pair of twins, leaving little to inherit for her, still, she is a highborn so by right she has a high place in court. You were sent to King’s Landing when you were around eight years old as a Laenor Velaryon’s ward, since he was to inherit Driftmark, but your hopes of seeing the ocean and maybe even learning from the Sea Snake were quickly drowned. Laenor spent most of his time on King’s Landing with his wife Rhaenyra and their children. 

Black water’s bay was a joke compared to the might of the Iron Islands, the sea was always calm and dark here, it made you want to cry and demand for your mother but you had to be strong, you were an ironborn afterall. So you complied, after some time you befriended the younger kids of the court, Jace Velaryon and the three kids the king had with Alicent Hightower. 

While you got your septa lessons with Helaena, that were apparently a tradition here in King’s Landing (one you didn’t enjoy), you also got to spend some times with the boys on the yard, Ser Harwin Strong had a good hand on teaching you good moves even if you were a young lady. A small part of you feared that if you were not fierce enough, hard enough, you weren’t going to be welcomed back to the Iron Islands, so you developed a habit of sneaking around the castle with your sword to practice.

It was during one of those days, some years after your first arrival to King’s Landing, when Aegon found you (or you found him). You thought you had found an empty garden, small and forgotten in between the towers of the keep, hidden enough for you to practice as much as you wanted. After some while of sweating and jumping and striking you heard some noises behind the short wall that led to some stairs, Aegon was there, half asleep.

“Aegon?”

He got more awake after he saw you. “What are you doing here?” You asked him. 

“I–” He looked unsure. “I’m trying to hide from Ser Criston Cole.” He admitted pitiful, many of the things Aegon did were pitiful. 

“Why would you skip training?” You asked, sitting next to him on the steps. He twisted his mouth. 

“I don’t think I like it anymore… I used to enjoy it but Ser Criston demands so much now that we’re getting older.” He frowned while playing with his hands

“But you’re good.” You didn’t fully comprehend why he would drop the opportunity that was given to him, he could train to become a great Knight, he could ask for any sword he wanted and more. He gave you a half smile. “I guess I am, but Aemond is getting pretty in shape too… And you too.” There was a small moment of silence and then you broke into laughter, big and loud, until he laughed too.

“What?” He asked, still laughing. “You are, I’ve seen you. Have you seen Jace?” He asked. “I know you can beat him, he is too soft.” You shoved him a little. “C’mon,” You said. “Jace is still a kid.” He opened his eyes big, he was trying to be funny. “So? Still!” 

You laughed a little bit more and then fell into a comfortable silence, you probably needed a bath at this point but he didn’t seem to mind. “It’s probably because you have iron and salt in your blood.” He said, suddenly too quiet. “Yeah, probably.” You said, he was looking at his hands again. 

“Do you miss it?” He asked.

“Yes, I dream every night of going back. Claiming what’s mine. My uncle left a ship to my name when he died, that much is mine.” You explained. “I don’t need anything else, I can build my name with just that.” 

“What of marriage?” He asked, you knew what you were talking about, the main reason your lord father had sent you to court was to get a husband at some point down the line, the Iron Islands weren’t big enough to have a bunch of unmarried heirs running around, your twin brothers had already inherited anything that mattered. But you did not care about any of that, titles or land. You shrugged. “Who knows? It isn’t like there are many Ironborns running around here for me to choose from.” You said.

“What about someone who is not iron born?” He asked.

“Really?” He looked incredulous. “Yes!” You say, laughter bubbling again in your throat. “Is no longer allowed, silly.” You said. “The Targaryens,” You made a point by sticking your pointer finger in his chest. “Won’t let us do it anymore, they say it’s barbaric.” 

“Then that would be a salt marriage,” You said, as a matter of fact, you found it funny and a little tedious to talk about marriage when you hadn’t even gotten your first blood yet. “What?” Aegon asked. “You know… An ironborn is to marry an ironborn, that’s their iron wife, if he gets more women after raiding, those are his salt wives, he can get as many of those as he wants, you know?”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense,” He said. “I would allow it if I were king.” He said as a matter of fact. “But you’re not, you’re a salt prince,” You said. “With your long and soft hair, and your long pale eyelashes. Did you know the ladies of the court envy your beauty?” His face flushed at the comment.

“Fine then I’ll be your salt wife,” He said. “Since I’m not Iron born enough.”

Your friendship with Aegon grew only stronger after that, both of you sneaking around, he had even given you a very beautiful sword for your ten-and-four name day, made specially for you, it fit your hand perfectly. And then Laenor had died. 

You broke into laughter again, the two of you, making up stories about you having your iron fleet, raiding King’s Landing, telling him he had to come with you. He played the part of the damsel in distress, flaunting his Targaryen beauty until the sides of your stomach started hurting from too much laughter. You both built your small fantasy, one where you both got to enjoy life, where the sea and winds always helped your ship find its way through the storm. 

With Laenor dead you didn’t know what your duty as a ward was now, Rhaenyra was to go back to Dragonstone with her children, but what will become of you? You plead Rhaenys to take you as a ward, or at least a cupgirl, in Driftmark with Baela and Luke, you had a need to be near the sea. You couldn’t bear to be forgotten in King’s Landing. Rhaenys agreed, and so you left. 

-

By the time you came back to King’s Landing you had grown into a woman, you were a Lady of the Sea now and you wore the colors of your house proudly. A golden kraken embroidered on your chest, your face and neck were framed by wild pearls and treasures from the narrow sea. You had grown into a fierce seafarer. 

To Aegon you had grown into the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

He had grown too, and so did his dragon. He wore his hair short now and seemed to favor black and dark colors for his clothes, which only made the purple in his eyes jump even more. 

You first encountered him during the welcome feast the crown had prepared for Corlys, Rhaenys, Baela and Luke. It was a celebration of Corlys victories along the narrow sea. You didn’t get a seat at the high table, you never did, you were not part of the royal family after all, you preferred it this way. You liked to share stories and drink with the other lords, you were listening to a Baratheon lord tell about a storm he faced when you saw him... Aegon. 

He was staring at you, a cup in his hand, he looked lost in thoughts. He was a man now, and you couldn’t help to notice a tint of sadness in his eyes. You excused yourself and walked over to the high table, Aegon saw you coming and tried to gather himself better, to sit properly.

“King Viserys,” You said. “Queen Alicent… Thank you for welcoming me into your home again, it’s a wonderful feast.” You commented, Alicent smiled at you and the King nodded. “It’s been a long time since we saw you, Lady Greyjoy, you have grown into a fine young woman.” Alicent said, you gulped half of your wine down and laughed. “No, I haven’t,” You said. “My mother was not an enjoyable sight and they say my father looked like a frog when he was a youth.” King Viserys and Corlys broke into a fit of laughter, maybe even Otto Hightower had joined, but you were not looking at them, you were looking at Aegon.

You left the dinning hall in a rush and you could feel him following your steps. You turned in a corner and waited for him, in the darkness, removed from any peering eye. When it was his turn to turn the corner you grabbed him by his neckline and kissed him. Oh, how you had longed for this kiss. 

He seemed to melt into it, needy and pliable. You could taste alcohol in his breath but he smelled of lavender and oils, like the pampered prince he was. “Aegon,” You said, he nudged your head to fit his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in softly. “You smell like the sea.” He said. You smiled. “I smell like fish?” You asked, holding him close. “No,” He said, he sounded like he could whine, he was drunker than you thought. “Like the sea… I like it.” You could drown right there in him and be reborn.

“Aegon…”

“I missed you.” He said, he was finally looking at you. 

“I missed you too.” 

“Will you leave again?” He asked, he sounded unsure and it was breaking some hidden part of your iron heart.

“Yes,” You said while you felt how your gut turned into a knot, he hugged you tighter, tried to make himself smaller to be able to hide in your chest. “Aegon, please, I can’t stay in King’s Landing. I finally get to return to the Iron Islands, to Pyke.” You said, you wanted him to be happy for you but you doubted he was.

“Take me with you,” He mumbled. “Take me away, I– I’ll be your salt wife.”

“Will you?” You asked, now finding it amusing. “You won’t abandon sunfyre.” He looked up to you and you had to pretend to not see how red his eyes and nose were, like he could cry right here, right now. 

“We will take her with us… I’ll dye my hair too.” You laughed, holding his face closer, kissing him shortly on the lips.

(as always sorry for any mistakes and if you want a nsfw version i could try even though is not my forte lol)

“Yeah? Nobody will notice a Targaryen Prince going missing?”

“No, they won’t, I promise. Aemond will make sure.” He said returning the kiss, he started leaving small kisses all over your face while saying small pleas. Your heart broke for him, you knew he had skills in the battlefield but still something about him screamed unprotected, and you wanted to change that. You wanted to take care of him, to bring him along your voyages, dress him in the finest fabrics and jewels. He could be your salt wife, forever safe and happy in your chambers, forever pretty hanging from your arm.

[insabecs]

blue

So...hi! I created something. I never created something before, so I’m not 100% sure how this works. More might be coming, or it might not. (also not sure about that.) Also one big big thank you to my dear friend @scalyfreaks that has been a big part of making this happen by rambling with me about Aegon and for very kindly lending me her precious Amara. Daisy, this would probably not be out in the world if it wasn’t for your support :). So if by chance you come across this and like it, go thank her and also read her work. 

Anyway, on with it and if you come across this by chance and decide to stay, dear reader, thank you. 

Aegon is blue. Amara has liked to assign colours to people since she was little, as if she’s gifting them the most precious gift. It is her way of showing love, of trying to make the people around her feel special. Here, have this gift that no one else can give you. Have one of my colours.

Aegon is blue. She looks at him from where she stands by the kettle in the kitchen of the cottage. It’s late. But it is summer so the sun is setting over the ocean and even if she knows he IS blue, in the twilight, he’s golden. She can’t see much of him through the kitchen door. She only sees the rickety, salt corroded deck chair he is sitting on, a mop of shaggy blond hair, so fine it looks white in the evening light and his hand stroking Sunfyre behind one ear. Two fingers holding a cigarette three settled deep into his dog’s fur. Always there. Aegon has seen more loss in his life than most people double his age would not have seen and has lost trust that the world will let him keep anything he loves. He feels undeserving. Amara has realised that anything that has meaning to him he makes sure to touch as often has he can. She is not yet sure he touches her often enough. The kettle boils and clicks off and she’s back at the cottage, remembers the two chipped mugs decorated with childish hand painted dragons sitting in front of her, lonely tea bags in them. She wonders if they are mementos to a life long lost. The fading light is coming through the door and falls flat against the stone floor, she can see the tiny particles of dust dancing in the light, it is very quiet. And she’s back to the thought: Aegon is blue. When she met him, she though he was golden- calm, steady. All morning light, soft touches and crows feet. A golden man with a golden dog. Then the break in the façade came. He cracked. And she saw him red. All bites and scratches. She could swear at times his tongue on her felt rougher than a cat’s. Heavy hands around her neck. Ruthless. Brutal. He was burning and she just wanted to sacrifice herself to his fire. When the cracks in the relationship started showing and the break came, she could only feel the grey. The silence. She was lost in the deserted land of the lost shipwrecks he left behind. Now that he’s finally decided to show himself to her and she sees him in pure Technicolor, she knows he is blue. Not sky blue or the blue green colour of peacock feathers. No. Aegon is lápis blue, midnight sky dusted by constellations and the Milky Way blue. The type of blue you only see up here in the deepest of winter, with no lights around for miles. The type of night sky that invites you to sleep for an eternity. Amara likes to imagine that that is where people go when they die. Just step into the night sky and rest. Aegon is blue. He looks back at her. Eyes so blue they could be colourless - liars. He’s smiling and she smiles back and walks out to him. Pops the tea on the ground by the chair. He tilts his head up to look at her, all big yes, long lashes and crows feet. Unfair really. She kisses his forehead and he smiles. “Mine”- it never sounds like a prison when the word rolls of his tongue. He bumps his forehead to hers like an unruly lamb and she can’t help but love him. There’s a sadness in him that comes with the blue, she’s not sure will ever go way. Her darling blue boy. Maybe one day if he breaks she can fill his cracks with lapis lazuli.