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thebadboyfanclub · 9 days

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Like A True Flower (Aemond x Reader)

So this was a bit hard to write but I hope you guys like it. There’s a slight mention of Aegon but I think I’ll need to write a part two to get into it cause there was just too many things to write. Let me know if you will be interested in that

As the years passed and the Targaryen name went from a burning dragon fire to merely a small candle that was handed to Daenerys Targaryen, the whispers of the bastard curse never went silent.

“If my children do not sit on the throne then none of our lines shall prosper”

(Y/n) Targaryens legacy lived on from people tarnishing her, blaming her and others who admired her wits and hunger for recognition. The bastard of Daemon Targaryen that was dropped off in Kings Landing, at the time Daemon had begged his brother King Viserys to legitimize her, raise her as their own, only the Seven could have known that (y/n) would turn out to be the one to put the sword on Aemonds hand and send him off to battle that got them both killed.

(Y/n) was the lady wife of Aemond per Queen Alicents request? At first, Alicent scoffed at the babe who seemed to sense the hatred that grew around her crib, a bastard amongst royalty, it was such a scandal at the time that Viserys had even considered giving her away. The babe growing tireless and her lungs as strong as steel made her discomfort evident to everyone with well working set of ears.

“Your grace”

“Have you fed her?”

“Fed her changed her, bathe her, nothing seems to work”

Alicent had walked into her nursery for the first time since she arrived, something in her compelled her to come to the child’s aid, listening to her wailing took her back to the first year of Aegons life.

“Give her to me”

The wet nurse hesitated only for a split second before she complied with the queen's orders, gently passing that young babe to Alicent who cooed at the poor thing, she had almost turned purple from crying, “she misses her mother” Alicent considered silently, slowly she started rocking her whilst she walked towards the window, she was pregnant with her third child at the time, her belly growing big and someone’s else daughter in her arms.

“She looks beautiful I’ll give you that much little girl”

She joked to the babe as the light of the sun graced her cheeks, it always seemed to work for Aegon and as the seconds passed (y/n) 's cries lessened, and a satisfied smile grew on Alicent lips as the little lady finally found peace in her arms, slowly turning her frown to one of the most adorable yawns that tugged at Alicante heartstrings.

“All you wanted was some sunlight, like a true flower”

Alicent was in awe of the child ever since, such a true beauty, and as she grew her delightful personality took everyone by storm, to be around her was to fall for her, even as just a child little boys would bring her flowers that they plucked from some unfortunate garden, including Aegon and later Aemond.

The two brothers were close to the princess, they would compete for her attention any way they could, of course, Aegon had the advantage of having a dragon and Aemond had to stay on the ground as he watched them circle one another, he would gawk at them with envy, praying that one day Aegon will have to watch him ride his very own dragon with (y/n).

Aegon on the other side would despise (y/n) and Aemonds reading time, the young girl was gifted at the literate arts, it was almost like she would swallow any book and recite on the spot anything that she was asked about any book she had gotten her hands on, Aemond was not as intellect yet he caught fast than Aegon and was more inclined to ask intriguing questions.

You can imagine his outburst of rage when the queen announced that she was to marry his youngest brother.

“She had inherited the lustful urges of her ferocious father, at the very least we must say she was much more discreet about it”

The historians would report back when asked about it, Aegon had the lust and fire of the dragon, while Aemond was sweet, attentive to her needs and his touch was oh so soft. Besides the fact that (y/n) wanted to have a bite of sweet and spicy, she also relished the jealousy between them, fighting for a spot in her bed every night was an aphrodisiac like no other.

Even though she was married under the seven to Aemond, she would often sneak from her chambers at the hour of the wolf and warm Aegon bed or other times when the chambermaids would scurry away after listening to the loud moans of (y/n) and Aemond in any type of room that the castle had to offer.

“A little after the war of dragons began her lady in waiting- Chiara Baratheon- had reported seeing the princess sitting on the iron throne while Aegon pleased her”

Mushroom would add briefly and with a hint of disapproval. No matter what she had the blind trust of the king and the prince and the undeniable love of Queen Alicent, the gods seemed to be in her favor whilst everyone wondered how.

(Y/n) was blessed by the dark world that her entire bloodline owed everything, at nightfall when the castle grew tired (y/n) would burn her candles and open her book, coming in contact with her ancestors as she sacrificed animals or even offered her own drops of blood and whenever she could she would spill Aemonds or Aegons, if you asked her she would say that she did it out of love, to keep them safe and in power, if they climbed the throne it was only natural that she would follow.

“Are you sure about your choice in your gown?”

“Never been more certain of something in my life, don’t you find it flattering?”

“You would be the most comely lady in all of Westeros even with a sack”

“Then it is settled, I am sure Mother will love it as well”

(Y/n) responded light-heartedly as she snaked her arm around Aemonds, she smiled brightly up at him like she always did making his stomach turn in backflips….like she always did.

Admins was taken by his lady wife, he was forever a slave to her and he was the one who had thrown away the key of his cell, his eye would sparkle with admiration any time he would simply gaze at her, her touch brought him goosebumps and her love, oh her love, like a fire that slowly burned him from the inside, a sweet death that was worth a thousand cuts.

“Our deepest apologies, I lost track of time worrying about my bloody hair”

(Y/n) could not afford to seem raddled or scared in front of her father's hawk eye, she paraded in with Aemond linked on her arm and a bright smile of a carefree attitude.

“Mother”

She acknowledged Alicent as her mother years before she was wed to Aemond, bending down to give a kiss on the cheek to the queen that made Alicent smile brightly and turn slightly towards her.

“How are you my flower?”

“Better, the morning sickness seems to be wearing off”

“Morning sickness? Is the princess with child?”

“Indeed… forgive me you haven’t been at court for so long, should I address you as princess, sister, or good mother?”

“Princess will do”

Rhaenyra confirmed through her teeth as her hand went over Daemon which had turned into a fist. Rhaenyra was no fool yet she somewhat understood the reasoning behind the young girl’s actions, left behind and forgotten by her father, motherless by death and fatherless by choice, she had begged Daemon to demand to take her with them but Daemon felt that the bond was unable to be fixed in any way.

(Y/n) only nodded and Aemond pulled out the chair next to Queen Alicent as she always wished to sit right next to her, even Otto had learned not to question it, as the dinner went on and the exhausting speech of King Viserys who just so happened to remember that he has a family that has steadfastly trickled into the chaos that he never even attempted to fix (y/n) also had to endure the forcefully emotional toast of Rhaenyra, still the shock that came from Alicent calling her “a fine queen” was the part that compelled her to rise and take her goblet.

“I would also like to raise a toast to our king who was kind enough to take me in when I had no one and merely but a babe I will always be grateful for that and to my mother, Queen Alicent, who came to my aid and offered me the love and the kind touch of a parent that I was denied by destiny, my love and devotion for her goes beyond words, may they live on and be able to see the fruits of my marriage.”

Daemon was ready to combust from anger. “How fucking dare she?” He thought “I took her from the arms of her dead mother, I begged Viserys to give her a home and now this is how she chooses to repay me?”

As the music played and the wine flowed everyone’s shoulders seemed to relax and laughter would intertwine with the mixture of talks amongst the people that dined.

“Would you do me the honor?”

(Y/n) heard from the back of her, turning only to be met with Prince Jacaerys who was sticking his arm out of her, there was a time when (y/n) and Jacaerys had some type of connection, Jacaerys was kind to her and had even offered to teach her the art of the sword, (y/n) puffed out a breath after she took his hand, no matter how she felt about it she was aware that Alicent wanted this to pass as swiftly as possible with no type of conflict.

“You look breathtaking if that isn’t obvious”

“That is very kind of you to say, my prince”

“I remember there was a time when we did not use such formalities”

“That was a time when my intended had both eyes”

she threw back with a smile still on her lips, as they dance (y/n) might have appeared to be happy although it could not be further from the truth, as they danced around together with a turn that Jacaerys had guided she was able to see both Aegon and Aemond waiting for their moment to attack Jacaerys, the prince was too carefree as he walked in the edge of their swords and it came the time that (y/n) dipped with his one arm around her waist and his free one went up to caress her locks, that was when a sudden booming sound of Aemonds fist on the table was heard, (y/n) immediately stood up and watched Aemond raise his goblet.

“To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey each of them handsome, wise… strong”

“Aemond”

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

“I dare you to say that again”

“Why? T’was only a compliment, do you not think yourself strong boy?”

Jacaerys was once again the one to bring violence into the matter, what seemed to be not taken into consideration was that Aemond was now a man-grown, and quite easily with one hand, he pushed Jacaerys onto the floor. (Y/n) walked to Aemond and stood between them, her hands finding his forearms, before she could phrase anything the queen had also walked up to the prince of chaos.

“Why would you say such a thing in front of all these people?”

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family mother, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs”

That was enough to send Jacaerys off again and try to free himself from the guards. The prince only got to make a few steps before Daemon stood between, it seemed like Jacaerys respected the rogue prince which left (y/n) dumbfounded, “who could respect such a buffoon?” She questioned in her mind

As Daemon turned to look at Aemond (y/n) took it upon herself and stood in front of her husband, the same smirk that Daemon had was the one that (y/n) was presented as well, her mismatched eyes reminded him so much of his mothers, “it was a shame that they had to be wasted on her” he thought.

At least he had to appreciate her ever-growing courage, though he didn’t know if he had to congratulate her or fear her, the girl put herself ahead of the man that she was wed just to prove she was just as courageous as the man she grew to hate.

“Go to your chambers, all of you”

Rhaenyra commanded but it appeared that (y/n) and Daemon had gone on a standoff, eyeballing one another like animals waiting for a slight move so the other could attack, both of them spewed fire from the eyes.

Aemond admired her, he would not dare to touch her and quite frankly he did not want to, he thoroughly enjoyed the sight of his love standing her ground against such a vile man.

“Little flower, please”

Alicent pleaded as her shaky hands found (y/n) 's upper arm and gave it a slight squeeze, (y/n) inhaled sharply although she only took a step back when Daemon diverted his focus to his lady wife, (y/n) offered a smirk to Alicent and after she gave a kiss on her cheek to calm her down, she knew that Alicent was never fond of such tension.

“Get some rest Mother, a long morrow awaits us”

The only way towards their chambers was to pass by Daemon, so step by step (y/n) and Aemond stood by his side, (y/n) halted and faced Daemon right in the eye.

“Let us solve this another day, Father”

It would have been better if she had called him the vilest of names, that name was enough for Daemon to reach for his sword and Rhaenyra to beg him to stop by pushing him back.

(Y/n)s laughter was heard as she walked away with her husband following close, the second the doors of the dining hall closed Aemond had snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her for a deep kiss to which (y/n) responded with the same passion.

“I did not know such things excited you, my love”

“How could it not? Any man would implore for an ounce of your attention after such performance”

“You always demand my attention Aemond”

“Can you blame me?”

He cheekily responded. (Y/n) only smiled and kissed him again pulling him in, she did not have much time, though a small stop to collect her prize of a very excited husband would not hurt.

“Tonight I need you in my chamber”

“Where will you do it tonight my love?”

“The simplest of cuts… right here”

She said as she let her index finger grace over the middle of his chest, she had to offer something right before the king died to make sure the will stayed spinning towards her.

“Whatever you want, my love, as long as I get my treat after”

“I could never deny myself the pleasure of you”

“Let us go before Aegon catches up to us and steals you away from me

Requests are open!

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starogeorgina · 1 year

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Children of the dragon

Warnings: Incest, sexual content, child birth, swearing

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen × Targ oc, Minor Aemond Targaryen × Targ oc

1.04

“Perhaps the prince would like to leave the room to give the midwives a chance to-”

“Don’t you dare fucking leave me!” You hiss, squeezing Aegon’s hand, and you stare daggers at the maester. “He’s not leaving my side.”

Reluctantly, the maester nods, swiftly leaving the room to no doubt report back to your mother, who was waiting at the door. She seemed more concerned that Aemond was nowhere to be found than you. The midwives had managed to spin your baby to the right way round, which reduced your chances of dying while giving birth breech.

Aegon hadn’t once left your side.

As the midwives ordered you to push, Aegon stood behind you, his forehead pressed against your crown, whispering words of encouragement and a promise to keep you safe while you held onto both of his hands tightly, screaming and crying as your first child entered the world.

“It’s a boy,” the midwives tell you as they wrap your screaming baby in a blanket, wipe his face, and then place him in your arms.

You sob at how tiny he is; “it’s a boy. My beautiful boy.” You stare down at him, admiring all his small features, until you feel sharp pains in your stomach and say, “Fuck! Aegon take him!”

“What?”

“Just take him!”

Nervously, Aegon takes him from your arms and into his; as soon as he does this, you grip the sheets, holding back on screaming again as you deliver the afterbirth. Afterwards, you stand up to let the midwives clean the bloodstained sheets, and you notice they keep looking at Aegon and then each other, clearly confused at why he is there.

Aegon was so mesmerized by the baby in his arms that he hadn’t noticed you’d gotten up and changed until you winced in pain getting back into bed. With a proud look on his face, he places the baby back into your arms and then kisses you on the forehead.

Moments later your mother enters the room; she shoots Aegon a disapproving glare when she sees him sitting on the foot of the bed, his hand resting on your leg, but smiles when she sees your baby for the first time. “He’s precious,” she says, brushing damp strands of hair out of your face. “I’m so proud of you, my darling. Have you and Aemond thought of a name?”

“Aeron.”

The room falls silent. You and Aegon stare at each other, and a flicker of understanding passes between you.

Your mother lets out a sound of delight. “I think the name Aeron will fit him well.”

—

Once your mother left, a wet nurse arrived, offering to take Aeron and feed him. You shake your head and say, “Thank you, but I’m going to do it myself.”

The wet nurse looks bewildered. Breastfeeding was deemed an inconvenience, and it would apparently stop you from getting pregnant again while doing it, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feed and connect with your newborn, which shouldn’t have been a problem, but the idea of it had caused the other women in the room to fluster. The wet nurse looks between you and the midwives. You became irritated and let out a sigh of annoyance.

Tracy, your handmaiden smiles sweetly at the wet nurse and says, “You may go.”

An older midwife tries to intervene. “My lady, it is known that-”

“Princess Theodora,” Aegon says sternly.

Her jaw clenches as she struggles to keep a polite smile on her face. “Princess, I believe it would be better if you hand the babe over to the wet nurse for now so you can rest.”

You had only given birth hours prior, and already they were seeking to control how you parented. If you lost control now, you would never regain it, and you would simply not allow that to happen.

“My child will be staying by my side, and his cot will be brought through to my chambers so I can tend to him overnight.”

The midwife's blank facial expression changed to one of horror. “I must insist—”

“Everyone out!” you snap.

“And if anyone has issue with the princess's choices, you can take them up with me, the firstborn son of King Viserys, or you can ask the Queen her opinion on the matter,” Aegon adds.

The midwives scurry to gather their belongings and leave. Tracy tried to hide her amusement, saying, “I will have someone move his belongings from the nursery to your bedroom right away.”

“Thank you,” you say sincerely.

When the room is empty, you look at Aegon, trying not to laugh, and ask, “The first son of King Viserys?”

He shrugs, smirking, “It worked, didn’t it? Pay them no mind. He is our-your son. He’ll grow up knowing nothing but love.”

You look down at the helpless baby in your arms and tear up. You’d never imagined you’d feel so much love at once or the urge to protect. Aeron was innocent and pure, you’d spend the rest of your life trying to shield him from the badness in the world.

Aegon kisses the back of your head, saying, “I was so scared when you started bleeding; I thought I might lose you. Both of you… I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, even if it means pretending he isn’t mine.”

His voice is weak from trying to hold back tears. It never occurred to you when you first made love to Aegon how much was to be caused further down the line. But looking at your son's small, lilac eyes, you know you wouldn’t change it.

“If Aemond ever finds out Aeron is yours, he'll burn King's Landing to the ground.”

“Don't worry, he won't find out.”

—-

“Aegon!” You empty a cup of water over him. “This is serious, wake up!”

Rubbing the water from his face, he scowls up at you. His voice is laced with irritation as he looks around the room and asks, “Where are the children?”

“In bed, it’s nighttime.”

“Unless you’ve woken me to show me your sweet cunt, I’m going back to sleep.”

He was drunk. You kneel down so you are level with him. “Aemond will be here soon; you need to go. If he finds you here-”

Aegon slurred his words and waved his hand, motioning to the chair he was lying in. “He’ll what? Assume I walked into the wrong bedchamber and passed out.”

“He’s getting suspicious. If he starts to believe the rumours…you know not to come here when he wants to spend time with me.”

Aegon sits up, his greasy hair flops over in front of his face, and he always drinks heavily when Aemond wants to try for another child. When Aeron turned one, your husband suggested having another, and just over nine months later you gave birth to twin girls, Alina and Alyssa. Of course, they shared the same father as their brother.

“Spend time with you—you mean he wants to rut into you and fill you with seed.”

You hated how crude his language choice could be at times, “You need to go now.” You scrunch your nose up when Aegon leans his head against your chest, “and take a bath. You stink of ale.”

“This wasn’t a part of our plan; you can’t have any more children. Not now.”

Hearing the pain in his voice broke you. You blink away tears that threaten to build up, kissing the top of his head, “I know, I know, and I won’t.”

Aegon had begged you to leave King's Landing and start a new life somewhere the name Targaryen means nothing, and you did consider it until rumours of you and Aegon fucking in a brothel spread. Although it wasn’t true, the rest of your family became more suspicious of the time you spent with your brother.

You watch happily as Aegon plays with your son in the garden. It surprised you how protective he was over Aeron and your newborn babies. Hearing footsteps approaching, you look over your shoulder and smile, “You look lovely today, mother. We missed you at breakfast this morning.”

“Thank you, and I was praying to the gods for guidance.”

Hearing Aeron let out a cry, you spun around fast to see your son being scooped up into Aegon’s arms. He had tripped over a small rock, scraping his knee. Aegon soothes him by stroking his hair and kissing him on the cheek. A moment later, Aeron was placed back on the ground and returned to exploring the garden.

“Where is Aemond?”

You shrug. “I do not know, but I’m sure he won’t be far.”

Most days, you just saw Aemond in passing at meal times and formal events. He only visited your bedchambers when he wanted to create another heir or was frustrated.

Your mother looked at you and then into the garden. Her face settled into one of worry. “Parenthood is hard; it takes some fathers longer to adjust.”

“I don’t doubt Aemond loves the children.”

“A mother's love is different,” she squeezes your hand. “And an uncle’s as well, apparently. They are very lucky to have so many people taking care of them.”

You frown at her; your mother's tone has changed from neutral to cold and accusing. “If Aegon wishes to tell my children about dragons, Targaryen history, and bedtime stories, even if they are too young to understand them, then so be it. It's more than Aemond does.”

“And why is that?”

Her question was simple but loaded. She wasn’t willingly blind like your father; being queen, she had learned how to be sleek, observant, and cunning. She knew the truth but didn’t dare outright ask.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

It might have been possible for you to sneak out of King's Landing with Aeron without raising suspicion; you would have claimed to be taking him with you while dragon riding, but after delivering twin girls, it became impossible. You wouldn’t be able to ride with all three children safely, and the moment someone noticed Sunfyre riding alongside Dallax, the consequences would be dire.

A knock at the door causes you to jump back just as Aemond enters the room. He looks between you and Aegon and rolls his eyes. “Lost and wondering again?”

“Piss off.”

Aemond smirks, enjoying seeing his brother in such a state. “You should sleep it off,” you say softly. “Come on, we should get you back to your own bedchamber.”

“Allow me,” Aemond brushed aside, pulling Aegon to his feet. “Come, brother, I doubt my wife wants to spend time with you at this time of night.”

You hold your breath, waiting to hear Aegon’s drunken response, but he says nothing. It’s not until you meet Aemond’s gaze that you realize it was more of a question than a comment.

You try to laugh it off as a joke. “I’m going to bathe before bed, so I'd rather you both left.”

Aegon smirks at your response.

Aemond simply nods his head, turns the other way, and leaves with Aegon without saying another word.

—

You rub at your skin, desperate to get the smell of Aegon off you. Usually you loved the smell of your lover lingering in the air, but not when Aemond was around. You always feared he’d smell Aegon on you. The thought of how paranoid you’d become almost made you laugh out loud. Most of the time, you were invisible to your husband; if you ever did leave, he would be the last to notice.

In the years you’d been married, he had yet to show any real interest in being your husband, which is why your affair with Aegon was so easy to carry on despite the guilt that occasionally overwhelmed you. It wasn’t until you gave birth that you understood your mother's comment. Aemond would always put the family name first, but Aegon would put you first.

Your relationship with Aegon wasn’t just based on sex, although he had become addicted to fucking you like he claimed he would. He would take you anywhere he could, and not just with his cock. He loved using his mouth and fingers to make you scream and beg for him. But the way he made you feel safe and loved was the best part; he adored all three of your children. Your days were spent playing with your children, riding dragons, or sitting beside him reading or talking. But you knew if anyone else found out, they would never understand.

Once you finished bathing, you waited for a couple of hours, but when Aemond didn’t return, you decided to go to bed. After changing into a nightdress and unbraiding your hair, you crawl underneath the bed sheets, feeling your eyes heavy. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

—

Feeling a dip in the bed beside you, you turn to see what's going on, and you’re shocked to see Aemond getting in the bed. The moonlight was the only source of light, making it hard to read the expressions on his face. “Aemond, what are you doing?”

You freeze, feeling his lips press against yours. “I am your husband.”

You’re taken aback by the playfulness in his voice; it's an unfamiliar sound. You remained stunned as Aemond started kissing your neck. Your shared intimate moments usually consisted of you lying fully dressed while Aemond did what he needed to quickly. The kisses shared were usually out of curiosity, and foreplay wasn’t something you’d ever done before.

Aemond gently pushes you back onto the bed before removing his clothes. He lay back down beside you and resume kissing your neck while his hand caresses your breast. “I’ve never seen you before,” he says, his breath sounding ragged. “Not truly, not all of you.”

You gasped when he pulled down the front of your nightdress so that your breasts were on full display. Aemond sits back and pushes the fabric up to your hips, but for the first time, he actually looks down at your sex instead of avoiding it. He mumbled something you can’t make out then kissed you, his hand running up and down your thigh.

You cup the side of his face and sigh, “You don’t need to do this. You don’t need... do more than you want.”

“You are my wife,” Aemond says, moving to cup your warm slit, his finger teasing the entrance. “I must admit that I have neglected my duties in attending to your needs.”

Something inside you stirs—an emotion you can’t place.

“Tonight I’m going to put another heir into you.” Aemond slides a finger into you, kissing you at the same time.

Not knowing what to do with your hands, you place them gently on his back. Aemond withdraws his finger and lines himself up with you, then slams into you. Removing his lips from yours, he takes as much of your breast into his mouth while squeezing the other with his free hand. You arch your back and let out a small moans he takes you roughly.

Aemond doesn’t last long and cums quickly, pressing his head against yours and breathing heavily. He pecks you on the lips, pulling out and rolling to his side. You wait for him to leave, but when he closes his eye, you realise he has no intention of going. You face the other way, close your eyes, and pray that morning comes quickly.

—

You collapse onto the bed, panting and gasping; Aemond was most definitely determined to get you pregnant. At first, you weren’t overly worried because you had plenty of time to drink moon tea, but it was now much more difficult considering he had sex with you twice since waking up.

You wanted to know what brought on this unusual behavior. You wanted to ask Aemond why he even wanted another child when he hardly saw the three he believed were his. He didn’t return from his travels for over a week the last time you gave birth; he briefly visited the twins in their nursery then left again.

“You don’t sleep well, do you?” Aemond asks while putting his clothes back on.

“No, the dreams I have keep me awake.”

Aemond looks intrigued. “Do you get them often?”

Growing up, your brothers would mock you and Helaena; they would call you weird. Of course Aegon stopped long ago; he was the only one you ever truly confided in. “Yes, I’ve been having the same one for years.”

“What do you see?” Aemond sat down on a chair facing the bed; he seemed serious. “In the past, I never listened, but I’m asking you to trust me enough to tell me.”

You feel ashamed. Aemond wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t love you or your children. “It’s hard to describe. It’s not just what I see; it’s what I feel,” You clutch a pillow to your chest. “I’m in the sky, surrounded by clouds. The sun is shining down on me, and then it disappears. Then I’m falling, and I feel this intense feeling that's trying to suffocate me, like a weight being pressed down on my chest. Then I hear it—a woman screaming. I think she’s dying because her whole world turns black.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until the wetness runs off your cheeks. Feeling awkward, you wipe them away. Aemond gulps, “I’m sorry; I never realized your nights were plagued by such images. Do you ever have other dreams?”

“Yes, I had a vision of our nephew Jace dying. So I sent a raven to Dragonstone, making sure he was okay.” It wasn't until you became a mother that you understood your family's hatred towards your nephews was pointless.

He seems surprised by your honesty. “Well, I’m sure your mind will be at rest knowing he is alive. But I don’t think you should waste your generosity on them, and I definitely don’t want Aeron interacting with bastards.”

“Your fight with the Velaryon boys is not mine, and it’s definitely not my children’s.” Aemond glared at you but didn’t argue. You let out a deep breath, feeling exhausted. “Speaking of the children, I should probably go check on them.”

“I’m sure our dear brother has beaten you to it,” he snorts. “I should thank him really. He gave me some good counsel last night, which was surprising given the state he was in.”

“What did he say?”

“Something along the lines of how ungrateful I was and that I needed to cherish you before you were gone for good. I assured him I wouldn’t let you or the children out of my sight from now on, in case you disappear,” he chuckles darkly. “But he did make me see that I need to make more of an effort, and now that I’m here, he won’t need to be around you or them so much.”

The emotion you couldn’t place before returns, but now you can name what it was.

Fear.

Horrible, agonizing fear that something terrible was going to happen.

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kckt88 · 1 month

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The Lost Dragon I - Ensnared.

Summary:

The Greens have repudiated the sucession and ursurped the Iron Throne. After encounting her uncle Aemond at Storms End, he kindaps Vaelys and takes her too Kings Landing - to be used as leverage against her mother.

Whilst the Greens delight in their good fortune, they fail to realise the depths of Aemond's growing feelings for Vaelys and how her presence will ultimately change the outcome of the Dance of Dragons.

Warning(s): Kidnapping, Language, Threats, Angst, Uncle/Niece Incest, Witnessed Consummation, Smut – Fingering, P in V.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 4280

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“You’re lucky you didn’t kill her-how could you be so foolish” snapped Alicent.

"You only lost one eye-how could you be so blind?"

“Her dragon attacked Vhagar-“ reasoned Aemond.

“What does it matter? We have Rhaenyra’s eldest bastard in our clutches, she could prove useful,” said Aegon shrugging.

“Once Rhaenyra discovers that we have her daughter, neither she nor Daemon will rest until Vaelys is returned to them-for all we know they could descend from the skies on their dragons at any moment” urged Alicent picking nervously at her nails.

“I doubt it-None of their dragons are a match for Vhagar“ scoffed Aemond.

“Vhagar may indeed be the largest dragon in the world but even she cannot withstand a combined attack from the dragons they have-you would do well to remember that boy” said Otto sternly.

“What do you suggest?” asked Aemond through gritted teeth.

“We have the girl-we should use her to our advantage. Rhaenyra would not dare attack Kings Landing for fear of her daughters safety” explained Otto.

“Where is my niece currently?” asked Aegon.

“She was taken to the Black Cells Your Grace-“ replied Ser Criston.

“I want her brought here at once-” ordered Aegon, the crown of the conqueror slipping down his forehead.

A small group of guards shuffled out of the throne room and returned a little while later with a thoroughly drenched and bleeding Vaelys Targaryen, her wrists bound together in chains.

"Seven above-have mercy on us" muttered Alicent.

“Welcome back to Kings Landing-“ said Aegon smirking.

“I wish I could it’s nice to be back” replied Vaelys wiping her nose on her tattered sleeve.

The sound of the chains clinking echoed around the throne room.

“My deepest sympathies on the loss of your dragon” said Aegon smugly.

“You can shove your sympathy right up your arse” sneered Vaelys.

“I don’t think your language is very ladylike”.

“Like I care what you think-“ quipped Vaelys.

“I would see you bow before your King” demanded Aegon.

"King? I see no King" snarked Vaelys as she lifted her hand to her forehead and began to look around the throne room.

"I said BOW TO YOUR KING" balled Aegon.

“I bow before no King. All I see is a drunken, usurper CUNT” snarled Vaelys spitting on the floor.

“The bastard dares speak to me in such a manner” roared Aegon.

“I will speak however I please, you will not silence me you drunken wastrel-” quipped Vaelys.

“Mayhaps I should teach the bastard some respect-”.

“-I’m more Targaryen than you will ever be” snapped Vaelys.

“The bastard thinks herself more than a King” said Aegon.

“You look down your nose at me yet you’re nothing more than a half breed. Your dragons blood diluted with that of the Hightower, your nothing but a slithering green snake masquerading as a dragon”.

“Says the strong bastard” raged Aegon.

“I’m not some strong bastard who was lucky enough to favour my mother’s colouring, I am the daughter of the rogue prince himself, Daemon Targaryen” confessed Vaelys.

“WHAT?” exclaimed Alicent.

“Oh please-like you didn’t suspect such a thing” snarked Vaelys.

“How?” asked Alicent.

“On my mother’s wedding night to Ser Laenor-she lay with Daemon” replied Vaelys.

“So, you openly admit that your mother betrayed her marriage to Ser Laenor?” asked Otto.

“Can it be considered betrayal if he gave his permission?” retorted Vaelys.

“He-what?”

“Oh, come on-you know that Laenor only sought the attention of his squires, he couldn’t consummate the marriage, especially when he’d just witnessed the brutal and unnecessary murder of his beloved Joffrey at the hands of your own sworn protector-so of course Daemon was only too happy to volunteer his services” said Vaelys glaring at Ser Criston who narrowed his eyes at her.

“-And your mother was only too happy to accept” snapped Alicent.

“Surely your aware of first night rights-“

“-And what excuse can be conjured for existence of your brothers?” asked Alicent.

“-What do you intend to do with the girl Your Grace?” asked Otto, his patience wearing thin.

“We could always offer her to any of the noble lords who bend the knee and pledge their loyalty to me” mused Aegon, ignoring the look of horror plastered across the faces of his mother and grandsire.

Aemond took a deep breath and folded his arms behind his back, his gaze never leaving his brother.

“We could even leave her chained up in the throne room and they could take turns with her. How many cocks do you think she could she take before she breaks?” said Aegon.

“Your Grace-she is still a Princess of the realm” warned Otto.

“Wed her to me” offered Aemond.

“-And why would I allow such a thing to take place?” asked Aegon.

“I brought her here. She belongs to me-” replied Aemond.

“-And that’s enough of a reason?”

“If not, then mayhaps the prevention of her marriage to Cregan Stark is” said Aemond firmly.

“Stark?” asked Otto.

“Borros Baratheon inquired about her hand in marriage-he seemed interested in taking her to wife, boldly declaring that she would give him many sons, but she refused. It seems her bastard brother has flown to Winterfell and delivered terms in exchange for his support” said Aemond.

“We cannot allow such a match-if Stark honours his father’s oath and bends the knee the rest of the North will follow, we must intervene if we are too secure-“ urged Otto.

“-There isn’t a Stark alive that’s ever broken an oath-you’ve already lost the North and my grandmother was an Arryn, the Eyrie won’t turn against their kin-” said Vaelys smirking.

“-But we still have you” declared Aegon boldly.

“Your Grace-“ questioned Otto.

“-As you were saying brother-you believe that she belongs to you?” mused Aegon.

“There is a debt to be paid and I will take her as payment for the eye her bastard brother carved from my skull”.

“Her maiden head in exchange for your eye? Assuming of course that she is still a maid, after all she is the daughter of a whore” quipped Aegon smirking.

"The only whore I see is YOU" yelled Vaelys.

"Hold your tongue-or I will have it removed" snarled Aegon.

Vaelys was about to answer back, but then she caught Aemond's eye, and he discreetly shook his head.

Deciding it was better to keep quiet, Vaelys lowered her gaze to the floor.

“I will have her as my wife and I will take what is mine” said Aemond, his voice firm and unwavering.

“And when her maidens blood stains your cock. What then?” asked Aegon.

“She will still have her uses” replied Aemond firmly.

“Very well brother. You may take her to wife” said Aegon smirking at the look on Vaelys’ face.

“Your Grace, Aemond has already agreed to marry one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters, he pledged his support to you based on that promise” urged Alicent.

“Offer Daeron’s hand instead. I don’t really think it matters which Prince marries his daughter” replied Aegon shrugging.

“But Your Grace-“ said Alicent.

“-My brother’s debt will be paid” said Aegon firmly.

Just as Alicent was about to respond, her father shook his head and she sighed despondently, Aegon had clearly made his mind up and now her favoured son would be stuck with a bastard for a bride instead of someone more worthy of his station.

“If some of the lords who have declared for Rhaenyra see that her daughter is wed to Aemond, we may be able to sway them to our side” said Otto thoughtfully.

“Exactly-now take your bastard Aemond and see that she is made presentable-you will wed on the morrow, mother will make the arrangements” ordered Aegon.

“Your Grace” muttered Alicent through gritted teeth.

“YOU-“ snapped Vaelys taking a step forward only to be stopped by Aemond.

“Ser Arryk-Escort my betrothed to her temporary chambers, ensure that she is bathed, and that cut is taken care of” said Aemond sternly.

“Yes, my Prince” replied Ser Arryk.

“You may also want to have the chains removed as well?” suggested Otto.

“Hmm” rasped Aemond.

“Cunt” snapped Vaelys.

“Careful niece-come tomorrow, my brother will have other uses for that mouth of yours” said Aegon smirking.

“Then he will find himself without his cock” replied Vaelys as Ser Arryk lead her out of the throne room.

After she had been thoroughly bathed, Vaelys was sat on a chair under the watchful eye of Ser Arryk waiting for Maester Orwyle to arrive.

“Do you not wish to enquire about the wellbeing of your brother?” asked Vaelys as she watched the maids busying themselves with tidying up.

“I’m sure my brother is fine” muttered Arryk solemnly, his eyes fixed upon the door.

“You know it amazes me how different twins can be. I mean there’s Erryk who is loyal, and then there’s you-“ said Vaelys.

“-My brother is a traitor” said Arryk.

“Your brother swore towards the rightful Queen-he is a man of honour, unlike some I could mention” said Vaelys, a soft knock at the door diverting her attention away from her guard.

“Prince Aemond” said Arryk bowing slightly.

“You can wait outside-“

Ser Arryk nodded his head slightly and then shuffled out of the room, only to come to a standstill just beyond the threshold of the door.

“He is to be your personal guard-he will remain stationed outside, so before you get any ideas, remember he’s there” said Aemond as he waved his hand, and a nervous looking maid placed a stool in front of Vaelys.

“What are you doing?”

“The cut needs stitching, I’ve stitched plenty of my own wounds before, or would you rather have the Maester do it, after all he did such a wonderful job on my eye” said Aemond.

“I thought it was Maester Selkin who stitched your eye?“ asked Vaelys.

“On Driftmark-but I’ve had other procedures since then” replied Aemond.

“Other procedures?”

“Removal of my eyelids” said Aemond as he threaded the needle and raised his hand to Vaelys who flinched away nervously.

“I-I-“ stuttered Vaelys.

“If I was going to hurt you, then I would have done it before I brought you to Kings Landing”.

“But you did hurt me-you killed my dragon” whispered Vaelys softly as she leaned forward an allowed Aemond to begin stitching the cut above her eye.

“I’m sorry about Archonei-” whispered Aemond.

“-Don’t say her name” snapped Vaelys.

“It was not my intent to kill her”.

“You chased after us on that old bitch dragon of yours, what did you think was going to happen?” quipped Vaelys, grimacing as Aemond pulled the thread through her skin.

“Vhagar was defending me after your dragon attacked her”.

“Archonei was frightened, she was much smaller than Vhagar, how would you feel having that thing chasing after you” said Vaelys.

“If you didn’t insult me in the first place then I wouldn’t have chased after you”.

“I heard you-shouting your commands, but she wouldn’t listen. Does your King know that you can’t control your dragon?” asked Vaelys flinching again as the needle pierced her skin.

“It was a momentary lapse in-“

“-Your mouldy rock is obviously getting senile in her old age” retorted Vaelys.

Aemond paused for a moment, debating with himself on whether or not he would engage Vaelys in the argument she was intent on starting, but after a few moments he decided against it.

“We are to marry on the morrow-I suggest you rest well” muttered Aemond as he tied the thread and snipped it.

“If you think that I’d willingly marry you dragon slayer, then your even stupider than you look”.

“The alternative is much worse-“ muttered Aemond raising from the stool.

Vaelys looked at Aemond and took a deep breath, she knew Aegon’s threat of offering her to any Lords who bent the knee was not an empty one and despite her anger towards Aemond for what he had done, he was clearly the lesser of two evils.

She would rather be his wife, than suffer the alternative. Her fathers words echoed in her mind ‘Seize your opportunity and do what you must in order to survive’.

“Fine. I will marry you” snapped Vaelys.

“Get some rest Princess. Tomorrow you will be my wife” replied Aemond as he turned on his heel and left the room.

Aemond was stood beside the high septon. He was elegantly dressed, his black tunic decorated with silver dragons and his Targaryen cloak tied loosely around his shoulders. His long hair tied back in its usual half up, half down style.

The horns signalled the beginning of the ceremony and begrudgingly Vaelys took Aegon’s arm.

“You look beautiful. Green suits you” said Aegon smugly.

“Eat shit-” muttered Vaelys.

“Thank you for escorting the bride Your Grace. If you would be so kind as to wait for the Princess to remove her maiden cloak” said the Septon.

Vaelys undid the ties of her maiden cloak and handed it to Aegon who nodded respectfully to the Septon and took his seat next to Alicent and Helaena.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection” said the Septon loudly.

Aemond removed the cloak bearing the colours of house Targaryen and draped it around Vaelys’ shoulders.

Aemond then took Vaelys’ hand and smiled as the Septon tied their hands together by a ribbon.

“In the sight of the seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity. Now you may look upon one another and say these vows together” exclaimed the Septon.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days” said Vaelys, her lip wobbling slightly.

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

“The vows have been spoken. You may kiss your bride”.

Aemond hesitated for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Vaelys’ lips.

“ñuhon” whispered Aemond as he pulled away (Mine).

The celebration after their wedding was in full swing, how Alicent had managed to pull this off in the limited time she had, Vaelys didn’t want to know.

King Aegon was sat at the head of the table, with a smiling Alicent and Otto by his side.

Vaelys sat next to Aemond near the head of the table, plastering on a smile as Lords and ladies loyal to Aegon came up to wish them well. Tyland Lannister, and one that seemed to linger, Jasper Wylde.

"Many good wishes too you Prince Aemond and Princess Vaelys. A match many shall pray for a fruitful outcome. I must admit Princess, the tales of your great beauty have not been exaggerated".

Vaelys shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Aemond scowled.

"Thank you," nodded Vaelys politely.

All through the feast and dancing, Vaelys couldn’t help but think about her mother.

Did her mother know that she was in Kings Landing? Or had the broken pieces of Archonei been discovered and it was assumed that she had died alongside her dragon?

Her mother was still recovering from the pain and loss of her last pregnancy when she had agreed to let Vaelys fly to Storms End, how cruel would it be to let a mother already grieving for the loss of one daughter, believe her other was also dead.

“Valzȳrys” muttered Vaelys (Husband).

“Is everything ok?” asked Aemond.

“Issa muñā, does she know that I’m here?” (My mother).

“I don’t know-I’ll asked my grandsire” replied Aemond as he rose from his seat and made his way towards his grandsire who was in conversation with Larys Strong.

“Does Rhaenyra know that her daughter is here?” asked Aemond.

“The Princess has not yet been informed of-“ said Otto.

“-She’ll know when she receives the sheets stained with her daughter’s maiden’s blood” interrupted Aegon.

“Perhaps a letter would be sufficient-” mused Aemond.

“No-our whore sister will be sent proof that her daughter has been wedded and bedded. Speaking of which I must inform you brother that the consummation will need to be witnessed, given our older sisters past behaviours”.

“Your Grace-“ exclaimed Aemond.

“We cannot have Rhaenyra contesting the marriage-“ urged Larys.

“Lord Strong is right-“ said Otto.

As much as he could try an argue against it, Aemond knew couldn’t. Rhaenyra would indeed challenge the validity of her daughters marriage, and the witnesses were a preventative measure.

“I request the minimum number of witnesses and sheer curtains-“

“Arrangements will be made,” said Otto.

“Your no fun” muttered Aegon tipping a large gulp of wine.

“I do not wish for my wife to be displayed in such a manner” snapped Aemond.

“Careful brother-anyone would think that you care for the bastard” snarked Aegon.

“She is my wife-“ said Aemond.

“-And that little crush of yours has nothing to do with it?”

“I don’t know what your talking about” snarled Aemond.

“I saw that cuntstruck look on your face when our sister brought her brood of bastards to the Red Keep defending Jace’s claim to Driftmark-Couldn’t keep your eye off our niece, although I must say I don’t blame you. She has grown rather beautiful. Perhaps I’ll take a leaf out of our uncles book and insist on first night rights” said Aegon.

“You have no right” replied Aemond, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I am the King-I have every right, but what sort of brother would I be if I deprived you of the chance to deflower a maid-it’s not as if the last woman you bedded was one” laughed Aegon.

“Don’t ever mention that again” ordered Aemond as he turned on his heel and returned to Vaelys who was now huddled with Helaena.

“I couldn’t talk him out of it-” said Aemond.

“At least you tried” muttered Vaelys, her shoulders slumping.

“Come good sister-I shall escort you to your new chambers” whispered Helaena.

“I’ll distract Aegon and the others” muttered Aemond.

“I know it might not make sense, but it was necessary for Aemond to bring you here”.

“I’m sure it was-“ muttered Vaelys as she watched Aemond bump into his brother, causing the cup of wine he was holding to spill all over the floor.

“You will see in time, and don’t worry you will fly again,” said Helaena.

“I will?” asked Vaelys as she followed Helaena out of the throne room.

“A dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free,” said Helaena.

“What?” exclaimed Vaelys.

“A dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free,” repeated Helaena as she came to a stop in the middle of the corridor.

“These are not my chambers” mused Vaelys.

“No-there Aemonds. You are to share, it’s important” muttered Helaena as she pushed open the door, took Vaelys by the hand and pulled her inside.

“I’m scared” whimpered Vaelys.

“Aemond will take care of you-he’s not the monster you think he is,” said Helaena.

“He brought me here”.

“I was necessary-a dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free. The dragons begin to dance, blood will be shed, begins when two are wed,” said Helaena.

“You keep saying that but-“ uttered Vaelys as the door swung open and Aemond walked in, closely followed by Aegon, Otto, Larys Strong, Tyland Lannister and Maester Orwyle.

“It’s time-“ declared Aegon brightly.

“Will you stay?” asked Vaelys.

“Yes” replied Helaena softly as she stood next to Aegon who huffed impatiently at Aemond who was stood silently observing Vaelys.

“Would you help me with the gown, husband?” asked Vaelys as she turned from him and swept her hair away from her back to reveal a great number of fiddly buttons and laces.

“Of course,” replied Aemond as he reached forward and began undoing his wife’s wedding gown.

Soon she was stood in nothing but a thin shift and Aemond felt his heart quicken in his chest at the sight of her nipples through the sheer fabric.

He was no maid, Aegon had seen to that when he’d dragged him to the street of silk on his thirteenth name day. But Vaelys was no paid whore, that would whisper sweet lies into his ear and make him feel dirty.

She was his wife, and he would treat her as such.

Aemond began pulling off his own clothes as Vaelys climbed into the bed. Her cheeks tinged pink as she glanced nervously at the witnesses who were silent.

“Focus on me. Not them” said Aemond as he finished undressing himself and climbed into the bed.

Vaelys nodded nervously as Otto moved forward and closed the sheer curtains, they didn’t provide much privacy, but it was better than nothing.

“I-I’m ready husband” whispered Vaelys as she pulled off her shift and discarded it on the floor.

Vaelys laid down and smiled shyly as Aemond gazed at her naked body.

“Gevie” whispered Aemond as he slowly reached out and ran his fingers over Vaelys’ breasts (Beautiful).

Goosebumps erupted over Vaelys’ skin as Aemonds hand began to move lower.

“I-I need to prepare you” whispered Aemond.

“P-prepare me?” whispered Vaelys.

“I don’t want to hurt you” replied Aemond.

Vaelys gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.

“Aemond” exclaimed Vaelys as her husband slipped a finger inside her.

Aemond buried his face in his wife’s neck as he began peppering kisses along her smooth skin as he added another finger to prepare her as best, he could.

But in the back of his mind, he was still aware of the witnesses standing at the foot of the bed.

“Come on. Get on with it” groused Aegon.

Aemond removed his fingers and then laid between his wife’s open legs, supporting his weight on his left arm as he reached down and took his hard cock in his hand and placed the tip of it against his wife’s slick entrance.

Vaelys shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath as Aemond sheathed himself within her.

“Listen to her whimpering, who would have thought a whore’s daughter would be so cock shy” laughed Aegon.

“Don’t listen to them-I won’t let them see you” muttered Aemond softly.

Vaelys couldn’t stifle the whimper of pain as she felt Aemond’s cock press further into her.

“That’s it Aemond fuck her harder” exclaimed Aegon gleefully.

“Your doing so well-” muttered Aemond trying to control himself.

Vaelys’ cunny choked his cock so tight that he needed a few seconds to adjust, making him terribly aware that he was not going to last for too long.

Aemond’s cock twitched and throbbed with need, and he released a shuddered breath while Vaelys sighed in relief.

“The pain will ease,” rasped Aemond, waiting for his wife to adjust.

After a few moments, Vaelys nodded slowly her hands grasping the white sheets tightly as Aemond pulled back and thrust forward again.

Aemond rested his head in the crook of Vaelys’ neck as he thrusts faster, his quiet moans muffled against her skin.

“Your perfect-“ whispered Aemond.

Feeling a spark of pleasure Vaelys let go of the sheets and slowly placed her hands on Aemond’s back, holding him close as his movements become more erratic.

Aemond pushed into the hilt for one last time and groaned loudly as his cock throbbed and he spilled his seed.

“A-Are you ok?” Aemond as he gently pulled his softened cock from his wife.

Vaelys nodded, her fingers digging into the fabric of the bed.

Aemond pulled the bedcovers over Vaelys and then moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his eye drawn to the red ring of Vaera’s maidens blood that now stained his cock.

“Are you well Princess. Do you need me to examine you?” asked Maester Orwyle.

“No, I’m-“ muttered Vaelys.

“-The marriage has been consummated. Get out” snapped Aemond.

“The sheets brother” said Aegon.

Aemond slowly ran a hand over his face before he jumped off the bed, his eye moving to Vaelys who clutched the bedcovers too her chest and slowly lifted her body from the bed allowing him to pull the sheet from under her.

“There-“ snarled Aemond as he threw the sheet towards Aegon.

“I see she was a maid after all” quipped Aegon as he examined the blood stained sheet.

“This will do nicely, I’ll make sure to send it to our sister on the morrow, confirming that her precious heir has been wedded and bedded” Aegon as he quickly rolled up the bloodstained sheet.

“You’ve got what you wanted now get out” retorted Aemond.

There was a brief shuffling off feet, before the door to their chambers opened and closed, leaving the two of them alone.

“Are you ok?” asked Aemond as he climbed back into the bed.

“I’m fine” whispered Vaelys.

“We should get some sleep-it’s been a long day” said Aemond as he laid down,

“W-Will you hold me. Please?” asked Vaelys her voice small and barely audible, the tears running down her face.

Aemond slowly nodded and reached towards Vaelys pulling her trembling body against his.

It took far longer than Aemond would have liked for his wife’s trembling to cease, but eventually she fell asleep with her face pressed against his chest.

After discarding his eyepatch on the nightstand, Aemond gazed at Vaelys for seemed like hours.

He could still see the faint tracks of dried tears on her face, and with a shaking hand he reached out and gently stroked her cheek.

“I’m sorry” whispered Aemond as he pulled her closer and closed his eye.

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daenaera-t · 7 days

Text

The Bastard Queen

ACT1:CHAPTER 1

WARNING:none at the moment summary: Another babe is born to the princess.

The sun was bright, currently hiding behind the white fluffy-looking clouds in the beautiful and bright blue sky that was evident above the kingdom of Kings Landing, the castle standing tall and proud as it had been over the years way before half the people in the kingdom living were even born at the moment.

The streets were crowded outside the wall of Red Keep as the markets were full of civilians trying to buy stuff for themselves and their families as children's laughter could be heard all around, the little people running around and bumping into the adults, ignoring their scolding that the adults were giving them as they continued to chase after one another and there pet animal they had.

Inside the old-looking castle, attendants and guards could be seen all around as the servants did their chores and the guards stood against the walls, postures straight while keeping an eye out for any trespassers that were to come and injure the royal family. The sounds of chatters could be heard all around the castle, people speaking about the princess and her new born son and the youngest child out of her four children that she had, now three of them being boys while one of them being a girl.

In one of the many rooms in Red Keep, three children could be seen inside as they played together while waiting for their mother to return, their biological father in the room with them. Ser Harwin Strong watched as his two sons and daughter played the game they had been playing for the past couple minutes, hoping his lover was alright. It was then that their attention went to the door as the princess and her husband walked inside. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen smiled when she made eye contact with Harwin, who stood up to his feet, smiling through the pain she was in she made her way to him.

Ser Laenor Velaryon trailed behind his wife, gently rocking the new born babe in his arms as the children grew excited at the sight of their mother. The only daughter of Rhaenyra , Daenaera Velaryon, was the first up to her feet as both her twin brother and little brother followed behind her.Jacaerys Velaryon, dropped the dragon toys he had been playing with down and was quick to follow behind his twin sister.And the second youngest, Lucerys Velaryon, quickly grabbed a hold of the skirt of his sister's dress so he wasn't too far behind, making sure to not tug too hard that it'll rip while they rushed to the spot where the egg they had picked for their new sibling.

Daenaera grabs a hold of the lid of the object, lifting it up to reveal the hot dragon egg they had chosen.

"We chose an egg for the baby." Lucerys tells her.

Rhaenyra lets out a pained chuckle, sitting down on one of the sofas with the help of her lover.

"That looks like the perfect one."

"I let Jace and Luke choose." Daenaera informs.

The sizzling sound could be heard as the smoke was rising from the pot just as Lucerys was slowly reaching a hand forward to touch the egg.

However, Daenaera and Jacaerys were quick to grab a hold of his hand before he could burn himself, to which he snapped it back and towards his chest before Daenaera placed the lid back on.

Glancing to her mother, the girl moves around her brothers until she was seating herself beside her mother.

"Not everyday an egg leaves the Dragonpit, Princess." Harwin states. "I thought it best to escort the children."

"Laenor and I thank you, Commander." Rhaenyra replies.

Harwin nods, looking to his son. "Another boy, I heard."

"What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?" Laenor mumbles to the babe.

"Might I?" Harwin asks.

"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey." Rhaenyra tells her husband.

Looking up from the infant, Laenor replies with a curt nod as he gently places the new born child, a child they named Joffrey after Ser Laenor's very first lover, in Ser Harwin's arms. Rhaenyra watched with a tired smile before she felt a smaller hand be placed on hers, making her look beside her to see her only daughter staring at her in concern.

"Are you alright, Mother?" Daenaera questions in concern.

Rhaenyra smiles, tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "I will be, my darling. For now, I am just glad to see you."

The older princess caresses her daughter's dark hair, both smiling at one another as Rhaenyra leans forward and presses a kiss to her daughter's forehead. It was when Lucerys questioned his father if he could hold Joffrey that had them looking over to see the second youngest reach up to his younger brother, but Harwin had been quick to use a hand to slightly push the boys hand away, not wanting to wake up the babe while Laenor moved the boys to the door, looking to the girl he thought of as his daughter, giving her a slight look.

Pressing a quick kiss to her mother's cheek, Daenaera walked past the two adults and out the door with her brothers as Ser Laenor closed the door behind them. Laenor led the three children to the Dragonpit where the two sons of the king and the queen were already at. Prince Aegon II Targaryen smiled at the sight of the Velaryon girl when they made eye contact, not noticing his younger brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen, moved his lips as he made a gagging sound, while rolling his eyes at the sight of the loves truck gaze in his older brother's eyes.

The sounds of chains echoing throughout the dark Dragonpit could be heard, followed by the squeaky sounds of one of the many dragons inside the pit as two men walked along either side of a dragon, their grips tight on the chains. One of the trainers placed a hand on Jacaerys back, moving him forward a bit while the prince stared at his dragon, Vermax.

The sound of Aegon yawnig rather loudly could be heard, but no one seemed to pay any mind to that as Jacaerys took at least two more steps forward. He glanced over his shoulder at his sister, who nodded at him with a small smile before he looked back forward. Reaching up, Lucerys placed his smaller hand in his twin sister's, feeling her hold it back as he leaned into her. The men soon let go of the chains when they were told to, no one seeming to be scared that Vermax was now loose as the creature made its way towards the prince Jacaerys.

"Call Vermax to Heel, Prince Jacaerys." One of the trainers instruct.

"Dohaeris!" Jacaerys calls out in High Valyrian.

Vermax comes to a stop, standing tall as he and the prince stare at one another before the creature let out a slight roar, stepping forward and that had Jacaerys stepping back while commanding the dragon to halt in High Valryian, to which the dragon obeyed. Someone soon walked in with a goat tied to a rope, the sound of the animal catching the dragon's attention.

Vermax ignored Jacaerys as he moved towards the goat when it was tied up, two workers placing their sticks in front of the dragon to stop.

One of the trainers voices explained that they should learn to hold mastery over their dragon, just like Aegon had learned with his own dragon, and once they were fully bounded to their owner, they wouldn't take instructions from anyone else.

"Can I say it?" Jacaerys asks, receiving a nod as he looks at the others excitedly before stepping forward. "Dracarys, Vermax!"

The two workers moved out of the way as Vermax walks towards the goat, standing up a bit before it was blowing out fire, burning the animal in front of him alive. The others all watch and hear as a screech escapes the goat before Vermax came to a stop, stomping forward until he was leaning down and eating the now lifeless and burnt animal. Patting Jacaerys' shoulder, the trainers walked off with the others as the children ventured to the end of the dark part of the Dragonpit.

"Aemond, we have a surprise for you." Aegon informs his brother, making Daenaera look at him curiously.

Aemond furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"Something very special." Lucerys excitedly replies before he was running forward, the others following behind in a walking pace.

"You're the only one of us without a dragon." Aegon points out, getting a nod. "And we felt badly about it, so we found one for you."

Aemond raises a brow. "A dragon? How?"

Aegon shrugs. "The gods provide."

While he didn't show it, the young prince found himself being hopeful at the thought of them finding a dragon for him, even if it wasn't likely.

Looking to his left, he examined Daenaera's face to see if she hadn't known about this. Snorts echoed from the darkness within the Dragonpit, followed by Lucerys pants as he ran up the ramp, a rope in his hand.

Aemond's shoulders dropped, his hands dropping to his sides at the sight of a very chubby and pink-looking pig instead of a dragon. Daenaera rolls her eyes at the makeshift wings they had made out of hay and tied it to the animal.

"Behold-" Aegon begins.

"The Pink Dread!" All of them, other than Daenaera, exclaim before their laughter could be heard.

"Be sure to mount her carefully. First flight's always rough." Aegon states.

And with that, he let out a loud pig snort in his little brother's ear, causing Jacaerys and Lucerys to laugh even more before they did the same as well, walking off afterwards, their laughter echoing throughout the Dragonpit. Reaching over, Daenaera gently squeezes Aemond's hand, making him look at her before she walks off, ready to scold her brother's for following Aegon's lead and taunting Aemond, all while the said prince watches her leave.

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myfandomprompts · 2 years

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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

Summary : You are a lady from high birth, daughter to an important man of the court. You were raised in King’s Landing along with the Targaryen princes. You always felt close to Aemond, as you had much in common. But he always seems so inaccessible to you, particularly as he grew up. Now you make the decision to leave, and Aemond is not really happy about it. AO3 - Masterlist

Warning : Angst, fluff, eventual smut, possessive behaviour

You were in your chambers, having that time of the month. You hated it, y ou could spend hours walking around in your chambers waiting for the pain to go away, to finally disappear. The heat over the capital today was suffocating, and you could hear the Red Keep buzzing with activity beyond your door while you struggled to breathe.

You had sent away all of your maids with the desire to be alone, but the knock on the door that resonated slightly after came to trouble your moment of peace.

You painfully walked to the door to open it, only to discover Aemond standing behind it, arms crossed behind his back, like he always was. You were astonished by how composed and mature he had become since Driftmark, how respectable and dutiful he had become, with you at least. Despite his not very talkative nature, he had an appeal about him that you were not indifferent to. He and his brother were very different, like the sun and the moon. And you liked the moon, its soft light, its calm appearance…

You like how he smelled, how protective he was of his family, how proud he was of his dragon Vhagar, and the way he smiled when you made public remarks about people of the court without them noticing. He had always listened to you, whenever you two were alone or among your family or friends. You always felt like the most important person in the room, and this since you had arrived in King’s Landing with your father as a child.

“My Prince,” you bowed, breathing heavily, trying to still yourself as you winced from the pain. You were failing at the task, but at least you were still able to make conversation.

“My Lady, is this a bad time?” he looked at you concerned, your hand grasping your stomach, not harbouring the elegant demeanour you usually wore.

“To be honest, I had better days, but this is a burden I will have to carry each month unfortunately, and from which I will be relieved of only if I am with child or old enough,” you sighed with a smile.

Your words did not reassure him, making him uncomfortable even, but he stayed there regardless, itching to take your arm to hold you steady. But he restrained himself, not wishing to push his luck.

The book he wanted to take from you laid on the table, opened. You both studied under the same instructor at times, and he liked listening to you about your latest reading. But today was apparently not a good time to be in your company. Part of him wanted to relieve you of the evident pain on your features, be there for you. Those were thoughts that had been plaguing his mind since he was of age to understand his true feelings for you, feelings he had to hide. For now.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he said after you handed him the book.

“Nothing more than the maesters are already capable of, but I thank you my Prince,” you smiled at him through a quiet whine. Not wishing to bother you more, he reluctantly left your apartments.

“Fetch some tea for Lady Y/N, some cinnamon cake with cream and bring it as soon as possible,” he ordered a maid that was passing, and although she said you were on a strict regime as instructed by your father, Aemond’s menacing look was enough to make the maid run to the kitchen. He knew you liked cinnamon cake, he had noticed during feasts, you always went for this particular flavour. This was one of the many things he knew about you.

It was a great day. The Princess gave birth to two healthy twins, silver-haired and purple-eyed. As the bells rang and days were spent in feasts, you finally managed to visit the new mother’s chambers to see the twins by yourself, their father, Aegon, nowhere to be seen. Helaena was seated next to her children, watching them tenderly as they were already opening and closing their eyes, curious of their surroundings.

Aemond was standing near the fireplace, not missing your entrance. He said nothing ,as always when you greeted Helaena and went to pick up the boy from his cradle gently, praising both of the twins for their good health and beauty. You liked children, and you adored Helaena, she was sweet and always mindful of her friends, that you were happy to be part of.

“He is such a beautiful boy Princess, and I can already see how Jaehaera will make knights fall at her knees,” you smiled.

“Do you not think he resembles my father the King?” said Helaena happily as you put Jaehaerys on closer to your chest.

You watched him closely, taking in his sweet eyes, tiny hands and silver hair. He was a true Targaryen, he already has common features with his mother, but also with another. Features you would recognise anywhere, a face that you had affection for.

You looked confused for a moment, then your gaze went to Aemond already looking at you very intensely. You tried to appear as composed as possible, your heartbeat quickening.

“He sure does, I am certain that he will be as wise as his grandsire,” you replied. However you felt your head spinning, descending into chaos.

Helaena, who was content that you agreed with her, watched you put back Jaehaerys into her arms before going to the newborn girl and softly caressing her cheek in an admirative manner.

“I will leave you in peace, I will try to come to see them this evening if you allow me,” you stated, your voice shaking a bit.

You needed some air. Now.

Helaena nodded with a smile and you made your way out with a reverence. As soon as you were in the corridor, you sighed in relief, gathering your thoughts.

The boy certainly had Targaryen traits, but was not sharing the features of his father. In fact, what struck you the most was that he did remind you of a certain one-eyed Prince. Your heart sank in your chest, not able to put words over what you felt.

You heard footsteps behind you, Aemond’s walking so recognisable to you.

“I believe you are feeling better, my Lady.”

You turned, putting a calm smile on your face. “Yes, I do, I thank you for your concern. I did not have the opportunity to express my gratitude for the food you sent me. It was... very sweet of you.” You smiled weakly, not having to explain how you knew it was him.

As you answered him, however, he felt your uneasiness, looking everywhere but at him, eyes frantic, your breath heavier than usual. He was right. You had realised something back in his sister’s chamber, something he did not wish you to even fathom. So he chose to directly ask about the subject that had him chase after you in the first place.

“Y/N, you are the smartest person I know, and I know you well. I saw your eyes when you looked at the children. I don’t want you to believe what is not there-”

“Please,” you interrupted, closing your eyes as you inhaled in order to settle yourself. “You don’t have to do this Aemond, lie to me... I will never betray you if it is what you fear. This is...”

You could not find the words. You had always seen him very close to his sister, and you had chosen not to see it. Maybe it was because of your feelings for the Prince, but now that you were standing in front of the facts, obvious to your eyes, it had suddenly become real. Maybe what you had turned a blind eye to all these years were true, their closeness, and you felt like you were on the edge of fainting. You didn’t want to discuss it, it saddened your heart too greatly.

“I am not lying to you Y/N,” he said as he took a step closer to you. “I swear this to you, whatever you may believe, the last thing I want is you to be mad at me for something that I did not do. It is simple.” His tone was almost imploring, and you felt his eye glance quickly at your lips before rising up again. You shivered, but refused to let his actions unsettle you.

“You could at least have the courtesy of being honest with me, Aemond. For the sake of our friendship,” you said, seeking the comfort of his closeness, but restraining yourself to give into it, “This is dishonesty that is the most likely to make me walk away from you.”

Aemond kept staring at you silently, then he suddenly grabbed your hands into his. “I cannot lie to you Y/N, believe me when I say that these children are not mine.”

You watched him intensely, the words finally uttered. You knew him since you were children, and even now, you didn’t know if you believed him. He had never lied to you, this was true, and maybe that you truly wanted to believe in his words, more for your own sake, but you knew that you could never be sure. You will always feel this uncertainty, clouding your mind.

However you nodded, willing to indulge him for the time being, not able to stare at his imploring gaze any longer. It made him tighten his hands over yours and sighed in relief.

Months later, you were preparing for your departure for Dragonstone.

Your father had allowed you to go there for a time in order to learn from the maester there, knowing how eager you were to add more to your knowledge, as you had always taken interest in medicine. You were also excited to see the heir’s children, Jacaerys and Lucerys, close friends of yours that you have not seen since they went to live on Dragonstone, along with a close relative to your mother, Ser Lorent Marbrand of Ashmark. He was her direct cousin, and a member of the Kingsguard since as long as you could remember. But in truth, you had hastened your trip because of only one reason: to escape the feeling you would get when you were in the presence of Aemond since the twin’s birth.

Sometimes you would watch him train, as you always did, because you loved to, it was enticing. Other times you would dine with his family, conversing with him on interesting matters. But on other occasions, when you were watching him from afar, your heart ached, because you didn’t know how you felt about him. You loved Helaena and the children, but you couldn't help yourself but think that maybe, maybe it was a possibility, that all that the Prince had said to you was all a lie. So when you realised that those feelings for him wouldn’t go away, you decided to force it, and go away yourself. Only for a time, you thought, it might work.

“Are you abandoning me my Lady?” asked Aemond as he watched you get into the carriage, among several other court members who would join your journey.

His tone was detached, but you know him enough not to be fooled by his calm behaviour. “It is only for a time, I will return soon enough.”

You didn’t know if he seemed more sad or angry, but you couldn’t turn back now. The people around you were busy saying goodbye to each other, not paying attention to you both, and Aemond took this opportunity to speak to you more freely.

“Do you remember, the night after I claimed Vhagar, what you told me as I was still recovering from what that b-,” he stopped himself, biting his inner cheek. “From what that boy did to me?”

You watched him with sorry eyes, knowing his resentment for his nephew. “I told you that I’ll always be there to heal your wounds, and that our friendship shall never end,” you whispered, lost in the memory.

“And now you are going away,” he was forced to look up at you because of your higher position on the stairs, but his eye was still full of emotion. You rarely saw him express any emotional state, but in the end, you could still read him so well.

You reminded yourself of the personal reasons for your departure, the concern you hid from him during these last months, and you had to battle tears from filling your eyes. “We were only children, Aemond, many things changed...” you said as you saw him lower his head, hiding his face from you. “I will send you ravens, I promise.”

Aemond flinched at your words, but he finally took a step on a railing, took your hand, kissed it graciously, and then turned away, taking his place near your father to watch your party leave.

You felt your cheeks become pink, and you clumsily turned away and entered the carriage. You didn’t miss the smirk that Aemond wore on his face as he saw you this flushed. Yes, many things had changed, but not his childish dreams about you. He swore to himself that next time he sees you, he will tell you everything, everything you meant to him.

-0- Part 2

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pearlstiare · 1 year

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A very drunk Aegon sees a painting of Y/N

Aegon: This is a painting of my wife, my woman, my angel, my goddess, my everything *begins to talk very passionately*

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myladysapphire · 1 year

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Masterlist

To be added to taglist all works on A03 feel free to send requests

Currently working on | His Sapphire princess VIII, My Lady Strong VI

House of the Dragon

Aemond Targeryen

His sapphire princess (ongoing, OC)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra finds her self with child, A girl who will forever change the history of westeros

My lady strong (ongoing, OC)

The second born, A bastard, a dreamer with fire in her veins, and a girl forced into the dance of dragons

Aegon Targaryen II

The spoils of war - one shot

#myladystrong #hissapphireprincess #aemond fanfiction #aemond targeryen #house of the dragon #jace velaryon #aegon targaryen x reader x aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii x reader #aegon smut #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x original female character #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen

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flowerandblood · 9 months

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The Impossible Choice (29)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: mention of rape, angst, violence, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Aegon knew that it was impossible to love him, so he craved it even more − proof, that he could be given such deep, valuable affection. That he was worth it after all, just as much as the favourable gaze of his father and mother.

Although he was the first-born son, he was not the heir to the throne. He felt like a Prince of Nothing who would watch a woman, the mother of bastards, sit on the Iron Throne − he wanted to laugh and cry at the very thought.

He didn't know if he had any talent − his sister was the heir to the throne, she had an ease of speech, shrewdness and a cutting tongue. Aemond was quiet but constantly reading and perpetually smarting, telling boring stories about their ancestors. Helaena was withdrawn and said things that were strange and incomprehensible to him − she was, in his opinion, completely detached from reality.

When he found out that he was to marry her, he thought his mother was mocking him − he preferred Helaena to marry Jace as Rhaenyra had proposed and to have the opportunity to choose a wife as Aemond had.

No such thing happened.

Their wedding supper was lavish, but he felt empty inside − Helaena was his sister and he loved her, but he did not desire her in that way. They didn't fit together, there was nothing in their characters that connected them or at least made them have something to converse about.

The thought of begetting an heir with her made him feel like vomiting.

He knew that whatever he did, however hard he tried, their rapprochement would not be according to her will − she feared and abhorred him in a way, he could see it in her gaze, in the way she flinched when he touched her naked body.

He tried to be as gentle as possible, imagining other women beneath him.

He tried not to think about her crying under him, about the fact, that he had just hurt his own sister.

He often wept thinking about it, but then it became indifferent to him.

The servant girl, Helaena, the lady of the court.

It was all the same to him − all that mattered was the momentary relaxation.

Until he saw her.

She and Helaena were strolling through the gardens of the Red Keep, dicussing something, walking hand in hand. At first he thought with joy that surely this was her new lady in waiting, that this girl could have been his.

She seemed so innocent; her face gentle and sympathetic, her eyes large and bright, her lips curved in a sincere, wide smile. She wore gowns of a different cut from the ladies in King's Landing − bold, brightly coloured, her hair combed in such a way that it accentuated her wonderfully slender neck.

He thought that she was beautiful.

Then he learned that was his brother's betrothed.

He looked at her as they sat at the common table during the suppers − he exchanged a few words with her, but in front of his brother she did not smile so much and answered with reserve.

He thought that his foolish younger brother with his perpetually stony face must have instantly frightened her and been violent towards her, trying to dominate her.

He noticed with frustration that Aemond didn't even look at her, didn't appreciate the shape of her body, the beauty of her attire, didn't pay her compliments, didn't even touch her.

He thought that if she were his, he would treat her differently.

That if he had a woman like her, cheerful, bright, joyful, he would make an effort.

He would change.

If she asked him, he would stop drinking so much.

He would stop going to brothels if he could experience pleasure in bed with her.

He would prove to her that he was worthy of her love.

She, however, paid no attention to him − although his brother hardly spoke to her it seemed to him that she always remained in his sphere.

On the day of their wedding he thought with amusement, looking at his brother during the feast, that he did not look happy with his choice, all tense, even though his wife sitting next to him looked beautiful. He didn't even ask her to dance, forcing her to have her first dance with her brother.

He thought he was pathetic.

That he didn't deserve her.

That she should spend her wedding night with him, not his brother.

Immediately after they left he waited a moment and stood up, walking out the other side of the corridor − he wanted to be sure that his brother wouldn't hurt her.

That he wouldn't hear her crying from behind the door.

He heard something else, however.

They were both panting and moaning, but they were not sounds filled with pain − he pressed his lips together at the thought that perhaps his brother was only pretending on the outside.

That perhaps he really desired her but was ashamed to admit it, because it would show his weakness.

The louder the sounds came from his brother's chamber the hotter and angrier he felt, his hands clenched into fists. He heard her sweet, loud, helpless whine, then a low, drawn-out groan of his brother and there was silence.

He thought that his brother would throw her out, tell her to go back back to her chamber.

But she didn't leave.

She stayed with him.

The next day during supper his brother seemed absent − he was drinking wine, looking dully towards the entrance, apparently wondering in what state his wife would appear. He approached him, holding his cup in his hand.

"How was your wedding night, brother? Did it meet your expectations?" He asked teasingly.

His brother answered nothing, he only saw him tighten his lips.

"I heard some moans from your chamber. It sounded pleasant." He said offhandedly, taking a sip of wine, and only then did his brother cast him a warning, dark look.

He wanted to say more, but his wife walked in, beaming and smiling, her brother stepping out to greet her. They were discussing something with tenderness on their faces − Aegon glanced at his brother and saw his jaw tighten, his posture change to one of uprightness and pride.

He was furious that he had touched her.

His wife was not indifferent to him.

They were only able to sit down at the table when their father the king stepped inside. He sat to her left, immediately smelling the pleasant scent of her floral oils − he thought that he would tease his brother a little and see what his reaction would be. He leaned towards her ear.

"I could hear you all the way in my chamber. I want you to know that the door to mine will always be open for you." He said tauntingly and saw with amusement how his brother threw him a murderous, warning look.

He wanted to laugh at this sudden interest he was showing in his wife and worry about whether someone else would touch her.

He thought that his brother was a fool.

He wondered how their married life would work out − he thought that she would eventually tire of her brother's insufferable, sullen, aggressive nature.

That she would give up, dejected and deprived of any tenderness, warm words and compliments.

This is what he was waiting for.

However, even when her brother did not speak to her, distancing himself from her for some reason, she preferred to speak to Helaena and not to him. He felt pain seeing this and did not understand what he did for her to treat him so coldly.

He never nagged her or tried to touch her.

Whenever he spoke to her he tried to do so with a smile and respect.

Her gaze and attention always turned towards his brother.

He felt a squeeze in his stomach when one day, returning late at night drunk to the keep, after having fucked a couple of whores from behind, imagining his brother's wife, he heard her moaning in his chamber.

He heard them both panting, his brother's voice saying something to her muffled by the layer of wooden doors and her quiet sobs as he fucked her.

Sobs full of pleasure and fulfilment.

He took Helaena that night for the first time in many months. He woke her up in the night and told her to just lie on her back and not move.

He imagined that it was he, not his brother, who made those sounds came out of her, that it was him she wanted, that it was him she craved.

When he heard his sister's sobs underneath him he burst into tears himself. He slid out of her when it was all over, trembling as she did. He embraced her and hugged his face to her neck.

"− forgive me −" He mumbled.

She was his sister, and he had hurt her again.

He was disgusted with himself, with what he had become, but he couldn't stop.

He stroked her hair, and she wept softly.

"− forgive me −"

He thought that he would try to forget her, that he would try to be a good brother and husband as much as he could.

He no longer approached Helaena, satisfying his needs elsewhere, seeing her only in the company of their children.

Neither of them spoke of what had happened between them, but he could see that his sister-wife could not look at him.

He was not surprised by it.

He avoided his brother's wife too, trying not to think of her, sinking into the goblets of wine and the soft breasts of whores in the brothels. His mother urged him on again and again, giving him sermons, but he had no strength to listen to her.

Why should he make the effort if he was going to be a nobody in the end anyway?

What were his children to inherit?

Everything around him seemed meaningless to him − he sometimes wondered why he had been born if he was his father's dream child, but he didn't love him anyway.

He was the son of the wrong mother.

He was not worthy of anyone's love.

He managed to find relief from his drunkenness and promiscuity until they had dined together with the bastard children of their half-sister. When he saw out of the corner of his eye his brother slip his hand between her thighs, her body trembling from his shameless touch in front of everyone, her eyes showing a haze of desire, he felt arousal.

He imagined that it was his hand touching her, that it was him she was looking at like this.

He pressed his lips together and swallowed loudly as Daemon approached them, his younger brother taking his hand away quickly, embarrassed and surprised. He felt like laughing at this pathetic sight.

His brother watched helplessly as his wife danced with another man, and he felt a wild satisfaction at the thought. He thought that as soon as she sat down, he would be next in line to ask her for this pleasure.

His brother, however, decided otherwise.

He commanded in a furious voice that his wife return to her chamber, and he led her away.

He felt a tightening in his throat when Aemond returned after several minutes, his forehead glowing from sweat, his pupil dilated, his breathing accelerated. He sat down at the table, thoughtful, and took a few deep sips from his goblet, as if suddenly thirsty.

He fucked her, he thought with pain and frustration.

He was jealous and went to fuck her to prove to himself that she was his.

Even so, when his brother made the last toast and Jace slapped him in the face, he didn't let Luke move an inch, banging his head against the plate.

The issues between them had no bearing on the fact that against the Blacks they were a united front.

He had once promised his mother that in front of others he would always support him and he intended to keep his word.

Afterwards, he fled to the brothel. He couldn't stand being in the keep, thinking about what his brother was doing to her when they left. As much as he tried, he couldn't stop the intrusive thoughts and desire he felt for her.

He desired her.

He loved her.

He wanted her for himself.

He was disgusted with himself by the thought, but he also found a kind of relief in it − a feeling that maybe if he made an effort, if he was patient enough, she would look at him the way he looked at his brother.

He wondered, what had Aemond done to deserve such a treasure? What had he done to deserve her devotion and love if he was still harsh and cold towards her? If he did not appreciate her?

He fell asleep completely drunk and the next day strangers told him, that he had to go into hiding. He could feel his dulled mind barely registering what they were saying to him.

"The King is dead."

He laughed at these words, turning on his side, unable to move. He felt like he was about to either pass out or vomit.

He thought that he was just dreaming.

Several dewy-eyed men took him under his arms and led him out of the brothel into the glaring sun. He hissed loudly, clenching his eyes, a headache racking his skull.

"−leave me alone −" He mumbled lowly, still heavily dulled by alcohol, the world around him blurry and bright.

He felt his way up the stairs to a cool, dark place and then finally let him lie down on the stone floor, where he fell asleep. He did not wake up until an hour later and when he looked around he realised that he was in the Great Sept. He hid quickly under one of the great candlesticks, terrified.

The King is dead.

Was it true, or had he just dreamt it? Would his older sister now try to kill him as a potential threat? What was he supposed to do?

He decided it was best if he stayed hidden. However, he didn't succeed for long − not a few hours had passed and he was tugging at his younger brother in the big square, panting heavily, trying to get away from him.

"Is it true that father is dead?" He howled heavily, Aemond squeezing his neck with his shoulder, choking him. His younger brother chuckled lowly at his question.

"− Yes. And they plan to make you King. −" He said with disapproval and a sneer, at which he spit in his face. He tried to break away from him again, but his brother knocked him down, they tugged at each other, panting hard.

"You know I'm not fit for it. Brother! Look at me!" He growled, gripping his cheeks in his hands, their faces inches apart. Aemond hesitated.

"− look at me − I am not fit to be King − let me run away − I will sail away and you will never see me again. −" He said pleadingly, on the verge of crying. He felt Ser Criston pull him by the arm, dragging him towards the fortress.

"− brother! −" He called out to him over his shoulder, panting helplessly, but Aemond only looked at him with an absent expression on his face, his lips clenched into a thin line.

They crowned him, and he felt that something inside him just died.

As he turned to face the crowd he felt himself trembling all over − he knew what was going to happen.

He knew, that the people of the Kingdom he was to rule would begin to demand Rhaenyra's presence.

That they would curse him as a traitor.

The crowd, however, began to clap and cheer. Timidly at first, but then the storm of applause spread throughout the building with a powerful echo, hitting his body like a great wave.

He didn't believe it.

They didn't curse him.

What if the people of the kingdom actually wanted a King? Not a queen?

He raised his sword high, and the people began to cheer and shout for joy. He felt strength, he felt joy, he felt that perhaps the gods had set his path.

Perhaps he was truly destined to become King.

Perhaps his father had changed his mind at the last moment.

And then the ground beneath him parted and the gods showed him what they thought of him as King.

He thought they were laughing at him from the heavens along with his father.

However, he did not burn.

They returned to King's Landing as if nothing had happened.

He was the King.

His mother held a feast in his honour and he felt that something had changed in him − the power he now had was terrifyingly unlimited. He could decide someone's death and life, someone's freedom or torment.

He thought he was now essentially a demigod and laughed under his breath.

After a few toasts, he noted with frustration that not everyone seemed overjoyed at the coronation of the new ruler − he tried to meet the gaze of the woman who had been keeping him awake for so many months, but she was staring at her empty plate, thoughtful and pale. He pressed his lips together at the sight, taking a sip of wine.

"Dear sister-in-law, why such sadness in your eyes? Are you not happy to have a new King?" He asked feigning indifference, leaning his head against the back of the chair, glancing at her expectantly. He saw Aemond give him a warning look, his wife twisting in her seat, looking at him frustrated.

He thought she looked adorable when she was angry.

"I almost burned alive today. The experience has worn me out, my King." She said slowly, his brother smirking mischievously at her words. He burst out laughing, delighted by her directness − it was one of the things he appreciated about her.

She didn't lie.

She had the courage to call a spade a spade, unlike his mother.

"So my sister-in-law can speak. Until now, all I’ve heard from afar in my chamber are the other equally curious sounds that you are capable of making." He sneered, wanting to show her who had the real power at this table and that the conversation would go on as he wished.

He saw with amusement how she turned scarlet, his brother's gaze murderous, his hand clenched into a fist on the table. Suddenly his mother spoke up in a weak, broken voice.

"How can you say such things in front of all these people? To humiliate your brother’s wife in front of everyone?" She said loudly. He snorted and rolled his eyes − she was always being dramatic, making scenes of her own or others' suffering out of everything.

His mother was an eternal martyr in his eyes and she expected them to be martyrs with her.

He took another deep sip of wine, setting his cup down loudly on the table, sighing heavily.

"After all, it’s no insult. I envy my brother such a wonderful possession." He muttered lowly, glancing at his brother's wife, and she looked at him with a fury that he had not yet seen in her.

He liked that.

"That is enough. Your words are insulting to me and your own wife. Your Queen." She hissed, and he barely restrained himself from bursting out laughing. He reached for a grape, plucking it and sighed loudly, leaning towards his wife.

"My queen is indifferent to everything. Isn't she?" He asked softly, and Helaena looked at him, sadness and pain in their eyes.

He pressed his lips together at this sight and swallowed quietly, feeling remorseful.

With the eyes of his imagination he saw her again, how she cried beneath him as he took her and moved away from her.

He lifted his gaze to his brother as he stood up abruptly.

"We're leaving." He hissed, turning away.

Cheeky brat.

He thought he'd done a lot of reading and swung his sword, flying around on an old, ailing dragon so he could do whatever he wanted.

"I order you to stay. You will leave when I allow you to." He said matter-of-factly and coolly, washing his hands in a bowl of water, reaching for another dish, looking at his younger brother expectantly.

He saw the way he looked at him and felt satisfaction at the sight.

Oppose me, he thought.

Give me a reason to punish you.

However, Aemond looked at his wife and his expression changed.

He felt a squeeze in his throat at this sight, as if they were communicating with each other without words.

His brother returned to the table, all tense, and sat down again, pressing his lips together. He saw his wife put her hand on his thigh under the table, and he did not reject her.

"See? The younger brother should always listen to the older brother. I want the best for you and your wife." He said, looking at her intensely, their gazes meeting.

She was so beautiful, but she had never looked at him the way she looked at his brother.

She never smiled in his direction, there was no warmth in her gaze.

He returned with this thought to his chamber, exhausted. When he finally removed the crown from his head he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from him.

It seemed to him that all this was not really happening, that he was only playing King, but in a moment someone would take the toy away from him.

He sat on his bed, thoughtful, when he heard the door to his chamber open and close.

He turned, startled, thinking it was some insolent servant, but saw his sister in front of him. Helaena stood before him, her face pale.

This was the first time she had come to him of her own free will.

He stood up slowly, seeing the tears running down her cheeks, her lips tightened, her eyebrows arched in helpless suffering.

"Have I ever deliberately hurt you, borther?" She asked quietly, and he felt a tightening in his throat. He blinked, swallowing loudly, his gaze fleeing around the room.

He couldn't look her in the eye.

"− no − of course not −" He muttered, massaging his forehead, somehow horrified and bewildered that she suddenly wanted to speak with him.

"So how could you say that? How could you say I am indifferent to everything when you're the one hurting and betraying me?" She asked in a trembling, cracking, soft voice, so incongruous with the words she spoke. He saw her shaking all over, looking at him boldly, her nostrils twitching restlessly with each breath.

He felt shame flowing through his whole body.

He didn't love her the way a man loved a woman, but she was his sister.

The weight of what he had done to her, the horrors he had heaped on her shoulders crushed him suddenly.

He felt tears under his eyelids.

"I don't know. I don't know why I said that." He whispered, shaking his head, burying his face in his hands.

He cried like a child, as he usually did when he didn't know what to do.

At that moment he felt like a nobody, a trash, a little child who cried to his mother.

His grandfather always said he cried like a little girl.

He wiped his red face with his hand, swollen from alcohol and tears, and grunted loudly, looking somewhere beside him.

"Forgive me. I promise you I will never touch you again. We have successors." He said, raising and lowering his hand helplessly, slapping it against his thigh, looking at her at last, her lips slightly parted, her eyes large and filled with pain.

"Stay in your chamber away from me and my affairs. Take care of our children. I will try to be a good father. You don't have to eat with me or look at me. You have done more than I deserve." He added finally. He shuddered as Helaena approached him slowly, step by step.

She surprised him by grasping his hand in hers, stroking it with her thumb, her eyes were filled with both warmth and immense suffering, from which his heart squeezed.

He knew that he had been the cause of every sorrow she had suffered, every humiliation that had befallen her in her life.

He told himself that she was mad, that she was unaware of what he was doing behind her back, because it was easier for him that way.

"− sister −" He whispered quietly and drew her to him suddenly, surprising her and himself by pressing her face to his chest.

She didn't embrace him or move an inch, but she didn't push him away either. He stroked her hair, there was a sincere tenderness in his gesture that surprised him and her − he felt every breath she took break from the uncontrollable sob that left her lips.

"− I tried to love you −" She whispered in a breaking voice, and he sobbed loudly at her words.

He knew it was true.

She was one to make those efforts.

She pressed her lips together every time he hurt her, enduring everything with dignity and humility.

He never appreciated that, thinking only of the fact that her legs were not as long and slender as he would have liked, that her breasts and thighs were not as full as he would have desired.

They stood like that, both of them crying − he thought that something had ended between them.

That he would never hurt her again.

That he wouldn't hold it against her if she found a lover.

Someone who would make her happy.

Then many things happened at once. His brother's wife left for Storm's End, Aemond for Winterfell, and an uprising broke out in Harrenhal threatening his already weak position.

He thought at the time that he would send his brother there along with his army under the command of Criston Cole and then it dawned on him.

This was his opportunity.

An opportunity to get close to her.

Tospeak with her in solitude, to get to know her better.

He felt excitement and remorse at the same time, but there was nothing he could do about it − he promised himself that he would not force her to do anything, that he would show her the respect that he truly had for her.

As soon as the servants informed him that Aemond had returned from his mission, he immediately recalled him to himself. He saw that his brother was pale and furious − he thought that his mission had not gone well, and he was not mistaken.

"− grandfather will not be pleased −" He said lightly, raising his eyebrows as he reached for the grape that laid on the table in front of him. He saw his brother smile mischievously, a threat in his eye.

"Of course. He's the one who actually wears the crown, not you." He hissed, and he looked at him warningly. They measured each other's eyes for a moment, the tension between them growing more intense − he couldn't hold back a grin at the thought of what he was about to tell him.

"I am sending you and Criston to Harrenhal." He said calmly and almost burst out laughing when he saw his horrified, bewildered face.

"What?" He asked shocked, his lips slightly parted in disbelief.

"An uprising has broken out in support of our sister whore, they've hanged our Lord Strong in his castle. You have to deal with it, because I don't think we want the other Lords to consider revolting as well?" He asked lightly, plucking another grape and popping it into his mouth with a loud crunch of juices. Aemond looked at him, his gaze darkening slowly.

"For how long?" He asked uncertainly, Aegon raised an eyebrow at his question.

"As long as you deal with it." He said softly, taking another grape in his hand.

He saw his brother look away, thinking hard about something, his jaw clenched in rage. He straightened suddenly, folding his arms behind him, looking at him with a pride that always frustrated him.

"In that case, I'm taking my wife with me as soon as she returns from Storm's End." He said with emphasis, and his lips tightened at his words.

Fool.

"You are to set off immediately. Your wife will be safe here and will wait patiently for you." He said with emphasis, looking at him impatiently.

He thought with satisfaction that he was King, his order was above that of anyone else.

She was staying with him. Why should he put her at risk?

War was no place for women.

Even less so for one as delicate and fragile as her.

"No. I will fly with my wife, or not at all." He growled furiously, clearly suspecting what he wanted to do in his absence. He smiled under his breath, standing up slowly, avoiding the table, looking at him with amusement.

"Be careful, or I'll think you've fallen in love with her. Don't be silly. It wasn't a request. Do you want your wife to become a widow?" He asked lightly, raising an eyebrow, looking at him expectantly.

He could do what he wanted with him, but he was his brother.

He didn't want to make him leave by force, but he would if left with no choice.

Aemond saw perfectly in his eyes what he wanted.

He desired his wife.

Aegon watched with satisfaction from his chamber window at the receding silhouette of Vhagar. He had heard of a woman they called the beautiful Witch of Harrenhal, with wonderfully green eyes and coal-black hair, with full breasts and hips.

He thought she might be able to keep his brother occupied for longer, which would give him more time alone with his wife.

He thought that as soon as she arrived in King's Landing he would invite her for a meal, and that is exactly what he did.

He was surprised that she did not refuse − when she walked into his chamber he marvelled at how she looked.

Her breasts concealed only by an white shirt cinched underneath by a corset, her sleeves buff.

The colours of her lineage, not her husband's, he thought with amusement.

She stood before him and bowed, her gaze gentle and indifferent at the same time.

He was not deterred by this.

He spread out his arms, wanting to embrace her, but she did not reciprocate the gesture.

He held out his hand to her, and she gave him hers − he leaned in and kissed her wonderfully soft skin.

She smelled of some kind of floral oils that he always sensed when she sat near him.

"My King. You wanted to see me." She said calmly, the tone of her voice pleasant and low. He felt his heart beat harder in his chest.

"Yes. Sit down, let's eat, I just asked for refreshments to be brought to us." He said lightly, returning to his seat and indicating with his hand for her to sit on the other side of the table. She did so obediently and straightened up, waiting for his words. He took his cup and took a sip from it, looking at her curiously.

"Why do you not wear the colours of our House?" He asked lowly, cocking his head. He wanted to speak with her about something normal, not just refer to formalities.

To get to know her.

He saw that she threw him a surprised look. There was a kind of amusement on her face that made him curious, her hand reaching for the lemon cake his maid had brought a moment before.

"Isn't red the colour of your lineage?" She answered the question with a question, taking the biscuit into her mouth and biting off a piece of it, looking at him expectantly.

He watched the soft movement of her lips and felt a pulsation in his breeches at the thought of how wonderful it must have been to feel them.

"Not that shade. For the rest, my brother and I prefer the colours of our mother's house." He muttered, looking away, trying to control his thoughts.

"You invited me to discuss the colours of my gowns, my King?" She asked provocatively, raising an eyebrow, something in her gaze from which he grew hot.

She was so direct.

Was she like that in bed too?

Did she speak that way to his brother?

He grunted quietly, trying to collect his thoughts, smiling under his breath.

"No, dear sister-in-law. I wanted to know what decision your father made." He said a little cooler, looking at her expectantly. He saw that her expression had changed − she put down the biscuit, straightened up and became more serious.

"He will support you." She said shortly.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Will he pay tribute to me?" He asked lowly, and she sighed quietly.

"If you won’t tease him with anything by then, then yes, Your Grace." She said amused, and he snorted under his breath at her words. He almost choked on his wine when he heard her next words.

"I wish to join my husband in Harrenhal."

He set his cup down on the table with a loud clink of steel, frustrated.

"No. War is no place for women." He said coolly and indifferently, fiddling with the vessel in his hand. Why did she want to go there? To watch her husband fuck another woman?

He saw her lips tighten at his words, her cheeks ignite, in her eyes an anger that he had not yet seen in a woman.

"I am the daughter of Borros Baratheon. War is in my blood as fire is in yours." She said with impatience.

He looked at her cautiously, wrinkling his brow. He wondered if his brother allowed her to speak to him like that or if he punished her every time.

Was he showing her in bed how she should address a man.

"Have you heard of the Witch of Harrenhal? She is said to be a beautiful woman with full breasts, eyes as green as precious stones and hair as black as night. My brother has always had a weakness for such women, so I was surprised when it turned out that you were the one he chose. I thought then that he had made a mockery of you and your sisters." He said calmly, as if he was telling her a story.

He saw how, out of rage, her face curved in pain and helplessness, her eyes red, her lips swollen, trembling, her skin pale.

She was beautiful and sweet again, vulnerable.

Just the way he wanted her.

"But I, when I saw you, I thought I had never seen a more beautiful, more sweet girl in my life. Gods, you are so delicate and subtle." He said dreamily, tilting his head back, resting his head against the back of the chair, looking at her with misty eyes.

He was humming pleasantly from the wine, feeling his manhood pulsing hard at his words. He licked his lips, feeling his heart pounding.

"I fell in love with you from the first sight."

He saw something inside her break, she shook her head in disbelief, her lips parted helplessly.

She was so beautiful.

"I should go back to my chamber." She whispered, lifting herself up on trembling hands, and he rose quickly, terrified, his heart thudding like mad.

He had said too much.

He had frightened her.

He cursed himself and his lack of patience in spirit.

He swallowed loudly, walking around the table, her figure tense and terrified. He touched her shoulder, looking at her pleadingly.

"I’m telling the truth. I’ve never felt anything like this for another woman." He said quickly, looking at her helplessly.

He was telling the truth.

He didn't want her to run away.

He didn't want to be left alone.

"You have a wife who needs you. And I have a husband who needs me. Please −" She whispered softly, trying to pull away from him, but he caught her other arm, standing over her.

Never before had he been able to look so closely at her face, beautiful, warm, red from tears and emotion, her full puffy parted in despair.

"He is noble only in appearance, to the public, like my mother. Do you think that when you’re not near he doesn’t fuck other women? That he is faithful to you?" He asked quietly and saw her eyebrows arch in pain, his every word cutting through her like a blade.

His brother didn't deserve her.

He didn't appreciate her.

He didn't love her the way he did.

"You're in love with a mere fantasy." She said, trying to pull out of his embrace, but he dug his fingers deeper into the sleeves of her gown, angered by her words.

You're in love with a mere fantasy.

This fantasy just stood before him.

"My brother has not been able to appreciate what he had since the day he chose you. But I would appreciate you." He said devastated by her words and what he felt, his voice breaking mid-sentence.

If only she would let him, he would show her how sincere his feeling was.

He would make an effort for her.

He would stop drinking.

He would visiting to brothels.

He would be the most just King he could be, if only she would support him.

He felt tears under his eyelids at the thought.

"Your every smile, joke, tender gesture. I would shower you with gifts and kiss your hands every day." He whispered, and after a moment he felt warm moisture on his cheeks and sobbed quietly.

They were both crying, clenching their eyes, their breaths hitched − he thought there was something beautiful in that moment, in that helplessness and intimacy at the same time, in the fact that he had opened up to her. She looked at him with her big eyes and he felt the heat spread through his body.

"− if you love me, please, please, let me return to my chamber −" She whispered pleadingly, and he felt a pain in his heart from which his throat tightened.

If you love me.

He pressed his lips together, feeling torn as never before in his life.

He craved her.

He craved to touch her, to take her here and now, to feel her wonderful, warm, fleshy insides, to sink his face into her neck, to experience fulfilment with her.

If you love me.

He promised himself.

He promised not to hurt her.

He saw before his eyes the image of Helaena crying beneath his body and imagined to himself that she was the one in her place.

That it was her he had raped.

His grip eased, his hands falling helplessly, releasing her.

They stared at each other for a moment, his gaze blank.

He wasn't worth anyone's love, but he still loved her anyway.

He watched without a word as she turned and headed for the door, opening and closing it behind her without even giving him a glance.

He decided not to reprimand her.

He had only ever seen her at the suppers, but she avoided his gaze.

He knew that was her response.

That she did not reciprocate his feelings, that he frightened her.

He felt frustrated and lost, hurt and rejected.

One part of him was telling him that he was the King and could take what he wanted, and the other part kept remembering his sister's weeping face.

One morning one of his servants entered his chamber at dawn − he ordered her to leave, wanting to continue sleeping, but she still stood in the same place.

"My King, The Prince's wife is not in her chamber. We have already informed the Queen."

He pulled himself up, looking at her in shock. He pressed his lips together, feeling a tightening in his chest as if someone had placed a bag of stones on his back − he knew perfectly well what she had done.

She had fled to him.

She had fled to Harrenhal.

For some reason, even though she was his brother's wife and not his, he felt betrayed.

He opened up to her, he needed her.

He wanted to spend just a little time with her, and she ran away, abandoned him.

He dismissed his servant, laying his face on his pillow again − he felt tears involuntarily run down his cheek onto the material beneath him.

She had abandoned him.

Although his mother wanted to order a search, he did not agree.

He knew exactly where she was and decided there was no point in making a big deal out of it.

He thought with amusement that perhaps she would find her husband in bed with the Witch of Harrenhal and return to cry on his shoulder.

After a few days, however, he received a message from his brother. He looked at it for a while, afraid to open it.

Had she told him about his confession?

He finally gathered his courage and unfolded the letter, looking inside.

Brother, my wife, in accordance with my request, joined me in Harrenhal. She has told me of the affection you appear to have for her. I look forward to your explanation upon my return. Send no one for her. Her place is with me. Aemond −

In accordance with my request.

I look forward to your explanation upon my return.

Her place is with me.

He felt a squeeze in his throat and tore the letter to shreds, throwing it impatiently into the fire. He ran his hand through his hair, breathing loudly through his nose, clenching his eyes.

He knew his brother would kill him when he returned to King's Landing, but he felt like laughing at the thought.

He wanted to die.

He thought that was the worst thing that could happen to him.

He was wrong.

The next day he received a letter from Ser Criston informing him that they needed reinforcements from King's Landing because Corlys Velaryon's fleet was moving towards them.

After a discussion with his mother and grandfather, he ordered several troops of Targaryen's army to move towards Harrenhal, but he knew that they would not have time before the attack − he prayed that his brother would hold out.

He might hate him, he might have the woman he desired, but he was still his younger brother.

And then he received a letter that crushed him, making him sit down by the fireplace and sob, covering his face with his hand.

A message detailing the injuries of the one he loved, that half her body had been burned in dragon fire.

That her body would forever bear the scars of her encounter with their uncle's wrath, for they had taken away his wife's rightful throne.

A throne he had taken unlawfully for himself.

He did not believe his mother's word that his father had changed his mind.

And now she had paid the price.

The only woman he had ever loved.

_____

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imbunnysan · 2 months

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Commission

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aemondswifexoxo · 6 months

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Blue Hydrangeas

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x original stark female character

Summary: Anora Stark, the younger sister of Lord Cregan Stark, is sent south in order to do her duty and marry the prince Aemond Targaryen. She has heard the rumors about the One Eyed Prince, both the good and the bad, and is uncertain where the prince stands in regards to her and their arranged marriage. Will they grow to love each other? And what will happen to the Stark family once the Dance of the Dragons starts?

Also published on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51385267

Chapter I

The carriage ride from Winterfell to King's Landing was calm at best, boring and too long at worst. She would have preferred to make the trip by boat, but storms have haunted the narrow sea since the start of the year, and the journey by land was much safer. Though it was autumn, the weather in the south was much more forgiving, except for the heavy rains that encountered them in the Riverlands. But all that was left behind, now that Anora and her party made their way through the King’s gate, into the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, and her month long trip came to an end.

Anora slightly moved one of the carriage curtains, in order to observe the city and its people. The streets were full of people, some making business, other’s just walking around, but most followed her entourage with their eyes, either knowing what her arrival meant or questioning what was happening. She had heard stories of how Kings Landing was not an ideal place to live in, how the smell was overwhelming and the people dangerous, and though the rumors about the odors seemed to be true, the population seemed just like the one in White Harbor: busy, hard working, a community. In a moon, those will be her people, hers to protect and care for.

She’s to be married to the prince of the realm, Aemond Targaryen, and to unite their noble families. She didn’t know the prince, only the stories and rumors that surrounded him. They said that he had lost an eye, though the specific circumstances no one agreed on: some said that his dragon, the mighty Vhagar, ate it when he claimed her; other’s say that his older sister, the princess Rhaenyra, had it ordered as revenge, for prince Aemond had questioned the legitimacy of her three eldest children. She had also heard of his character, how he was cold and aloof, a good fighter and a fast learner, how he loved his mother, followed his duty to a T, and how he was the picture perfect image of a valyrian prince.

When the betrothal request had reached Winterfell, her brother Cregan had been hesitant to accept it. She was his little sister, after all, and he didn’t want to throw her in the jaws of a dragon. She was the one that accepted the proposal, that had the final say. Even though she was unsure, and truthfully nervous about the union and the type of person that her future husband would be, this was a very advantageous match. Not only would it make her a princess, but her children would be possible dragon riders, her house would be protected by the crown, and the prince was the same age as her, a luxury that other brides couldn’t afford.

She had heard from Lord Manderly's wife, that the prince was quite handsome, if you ignored his marred eye, and that he seemed to be dutiful and honorable, and the complete opposite of his older brother, who was a drunk adulterer. She hoped they could find an amicable marriage, and from what she had heard about prince Aemond, she believed she would at least tolerate his company. She could only hope that he would find her presence endurable as well.

As she noticed that they were nearing the Red Keep's walls, her nerves started to arise. She had never been south of the neck, much less in court. Both her parents were from the North, which meant that she wasn’t taught the ways of the South. She had read and educated herself about them, truthfully reading seemed like the only thing she did during the weeks on the road, but she feared it was not enough. Would she make a fool of herself in front of her betrothed, of his family, of the entire court? What if the prince hated her? Or what if she hated him, if he was cruel and vile?

Her anxiety-ridden thoughts were interrupted by her carriage passing through the castle walls, into an open courtyard where an entourage of people were waiting to welcome her, including her betrothed and the royal family. She hastily let go of the curtain, closing it and blocking her view of the group of people awaiting her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, waiting for her name to be announced for her to exit the coach and finally meet her future husband. When it did happen, her door was opened, and one of the servants came to help her out of the carriage. When her feet landed on the ground, she smoothed her skirts and looked in the direction of the royal family. There stood the queen Alicent Hightower, wearing a beautiful and modest dark green dress, and a welcoming smile on her face. On her right stood a tall, older man, also supporting green clothes and a golden broach in his doublet, meaning that he could be none other than Otto Hightower, the queen’s father and the Hand of the King. She also sees who she can surmise to be prince Aegon and princess Helaena, and their three small children. Prince Aegon seems bored, like he wishes to not be there, while princess Helaena has a distant but sweet expression on her face, and her youngest son, Maelor, in her arms.

In the middle of them all, stood a man who was undeniably her husband-to-be. He was tall and slender, though strong, had long silver hair, a handsome face, and an indigo eye. Eye, a singular one. The other one was covered by an eye patch, which fails to conceal the whole of the scar that peeks from above his brow and down his left cheek. She takes a few steps in their direction, and makes a deep and elegant courtesy, keeping her eyes down to show respect. When she corrected her posture and lifted her eyes again, she made eye contact with her betrothed. He had a blank, aloof expression on his face, she could not tell what he was thinking, and it scared her a bit. In her restlessness, she gave him a small, polite smile, and turned her gaze to his right, where his mother was. She was immediately greeted by the queen's warm brown eyes, and her kind expression.

“We welcome you, Lady Stark, to our home and to our family. We hope you enjoy yourself, and may we grow close to one another.” The queen spoke to her, with a gentle but firm voice.

Anora smiled at the older woman, and at her family.

“Thank you, your grace. You are the most kind. I also hope that we may grow into a happy union, and I will follow my duty as the future princess in the meanwhile”.

After all the courtesies and gentilities are exchanged, Anora is instructed to her chambers. Her rooms are large and welcoming, having a lot of light, warm and rich furniture, and a large and comfortable looking bed. She was gifted a sleeping chamber, a sitting chamber, and a dining room, as well as some castle maids. She had brought along two of her lady’s of company from Winterfell, Audra Whitehill and Moira Woolfield, who were her friends since childhood, but the extra hands and company pleased her. She knew not to get too accustomed with her new rooms, since she would be moved to her husband's chambers once they got married. When the door of her room closed and she was left by herself for the time being, she took her shoes and jewelry off and laid in her new bed.

There was to be a welcoming feast later in the evening, to celebrate her arrival and her betrothal to the prince. But for now she intended to rest, and maybe calm her nerves before she was to encounter him again. The way he looked at her, and the lack of expression on his face still haunted her. What did he think of her? Did he find her beautiful? Did he have a good first impression, or was he displeased with her? She turned to her side, unable to fall asleep. She was overthinking it, she had to rest to be in her best mood during the feast. Anora blew the candles on her bedside table and laid a blanket over her body, before finally falling asleep.

She was awoken a few hours later by her lady’s, in order for her to get ready for the banquet. They bathed her, dressed her, brushed her hair and styled it, painted and treated her face in order to enhance her natural beauty. In the end, Anora felt splendid. She was dressed in a soft blue, almost gray dress that matched her eyes. Her jewelry was simple but beautiful, made of silver and engraved with delicate patterns. Her hair was half up in a conglomerate of elegant braids that crowned her head, while the other half fell down her back in her natural curls. In her face, they applied some cream rouge to her cheeks, eyelids and lips, and brushed her eyebrows. She hoped that her betrothed would find her appearance pleasant. When she expressed her wishes to Moira, she whispered back:

“How could he not? Look at you Anora! He would stupid if he found you anything less than breathtaking.”

They giggled like little girls at this, and Anora felt her anxieties calm down a bit. When the time struck, one of her guards knocked at her door to tell her that she had to leave for the feast now. She made her way to the throne room, where the celebration was taking place, with her household guards at both her sides. When she arrived just outside the room, one of the royal guards told her to wait there until her name was announced, then, and only then, was she allowed to go through the doors and enter the throne room, where her betrothed was already seated.

The nerves came back, and she started to feel her hands getting sweaty. She made a last effort to look as presentable as possible, smoothing her skirts, adjusting her bustle, retouching her hair and her jewelry. Finally, after what felt like hours, her name and titles were announced to the court, and the double doors opened.

She started walking at a slow but sure pace, being careful not to trip in her skirts while also keeping her eyes up. She could see him sitting in the middle of the dais, and she noticed that he was already looking at her. His eye held no negative emotion, but it also didn’t show any positive one. It just stared at her and at her every move. She refused to break eye contact, and held it even when she stopped in front of the grand table installed on the foot of the Iron Throne, and curtsied for the royal family.

As it was expected, prince Aemond stood up, and made his way to her side, where he bowed and offered his arm to her. She took it gently, and noticed how warm and firm it was. She couldn’t help but to blush. They made their way to their seats in the middle of the dais, where he pulled her chair back to allow her to sit. He took his chair on her left side, and with that, the feast began.

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kimnamnu · 6 months

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twin flame

aegon ii targaryen x original female character

aemond "one-eyed" targaryen x original male character

next>

Lord Haelor Belaerys, twin brother of Queen Aenara Belaerys, youngest son born to Princess Rhaena Targaryen, second daughter of King Viserys I, and Lord Vaenor Belaerys, died in battle with his dragon following not much later. After the death of his uncle, and rumoured lover, Prince Aemond Targaryen, the young lord grieved, and the Riverlands burned. Haelor Belaerys was known as the Dragonknight, he rode a yellow-scaled dragon named Umbra whose egg hatched when he was two name days old. Haelor was nine and ten and died a dragon rider's death.

Aemond "One-Eyed" Targaryen

son of King Viserys I Targaryen

rider of Vhagar

Haelor "The Dragonknight" Belaerys

son of Rhaena Targaryen

rider of Umbra

[soon on ao3]

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ilovemilfsthings · 7 months

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──── ✰࿒࿎྇ ༃࿐ ‘meet the character’

, , ,

ೃ࿐ ANGEL TARGARYEN prologue of her life

« laughing on the outside, crying on the inside »

… … … angst ; shit parenting ; i love angel sm

, , ,

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ANGEL was the youngest child of viserys & alicent. for almost all of pregnancy, viserys hoped that it would be another boy, all kings always wish for healthy sons that could eventually replace him after his death and become a good king. but unfortunately, alicent gave birth to a girl. it’s hard to have a good relationship with your father when he didn’t want you from the moment you were in your mother's womb, im right? anyway, the first years of angel’s childhood were okay, the alicent seemed to care about her, and viserys didn’t mind having her by his side almost all the time. but it all dramatically changed when she turned eight. then her father started to expect more and more from her, even the things that no eight-year-old could do, but he wanted all the best for angel, didn’t he?

then she started to grow up, and nothing changed, it only got worse. she cannot remember one day without fighting with them, mostly with her dad. it seems like he finds it entertaining to try angel’s limits, but she never shed a single tear in front of him, she didn’t want to give him satisfaction. the worst part of these days were moments when he acted like nothing happened; he didn’t care about her mental health. let’s be honest, in this world, it doesn’t matter.

but it wasn’t only viserys who slowly ruined his daughter. maybe alicent wasn’t like her husband, and she never screamed at angel, but she also let him humiliate her youngest daughter in front of everyone. she never checked on her, and when she ran to her chamber, she didn’t do anything. she would just close her eyes and sigh with sadness, but she wouldn’t tell her husband anything.

angel seems to hate her parents, but deep inside she was still a little girl who wanted her parents to love her, hug her and tell her that everything going to be okay.

, , ,

✧. ┊so this is kind of sad ‘prologue’ of angel’s history. i wanted to start it like this. you guys can give me ideas with who you wanted me to pair angel with, because i have not idea for this (firstly i thought about aegon, but idk) I would write series and just random imagines with her, and you also can request some ideas to plot etc. i would definitely needed your help. but i hope that you will like this oc (personally i love her, but you can have different opinions) i think that’s it, bye!

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starogeorgina · 1 year

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Children of the dragon

Warnings: Incest, sexual content

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen × Targ oc, Minor Aemond Targaryen × Targ oc

Notes: This is very quickly becoming one of my favorite works

1.02

“You poor clueless girl. Aemond would continue to fight for his family with you by his side, but Aegon? He would give it all up if he thought that’s what you wanted.”

You stare at your mother, speechless. You couldn’t understand a situation where he would be forced to choose, and besides, it was very unlikely Aegon or Aemond would ever wear the crown; that would belong to Rhaenyra one day. The current look on your mother's face was the same as when she scolded you for wearing men’s clothing and following Aegon to questionable bars on the street of silk. Aside from tasting wine for the first time, nothing interesting happened, but your mother screamed at you until her face turned bright red.

You look down at the ground and notice how dirty the bottom of your wedding dress is from dragon riding. “I’m sorry,” you say. “It was selfish of me to leave. I will apologize to Father and Aemond.”

“Your king and husband,” she corrects. “Make your apologies then—start behaving like a wife.”

“Yes, your grace,” you say before turning to leave. You walk away from her feeling a heaviness weighing in your chest; you were dreading what was to come next.

—

Nervously, you pace back and forth, awaiting your new husband's arrival. You doubted you would spend many nights together—at least you hoped not. When the door finally opened, Aemond entered. His emotions were hard to read as he avoided your gaze.

You clap your hands together as you stand in front of him. “Aemond, I’m sorry for leaving. It was unladylike and unkind.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he says before removing his eye patch. “This marriage is about upholding duty and respect for our house, nothing more.”

“You sound like mother.”

He shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the back of a chair. Aemond opts to stare down at the ground instead of you as he talks. “She understands the way things need to be and the sacrifices we must make.”

“I suppose,” you gulp.

You begin to unbutton the bottom of your sleeves. Aemond finally looks at you as he watches your action, and with an unreadable expression, he places his hand on top of yours. “You don’t need to remove your clothes. We don’t need to do this a lot, just enough to make a baby.”

The thought of having children petrified you; it wasn’t Aemond himself that scared you, but not knowing what type of father he would be. Would he ignore your children? Play favorites? Use them as pawns in a political game? You wanted to have a child with a man who loved you and them beyond duty.

“Thank you for—”

“Not being cruel? For not acting like a monster?” He quips.

“I was going to say thank you for not being mad at me.”

The room is tense as you make your way towards your bed and lie down on your back. You cringe watching as Aemond begrudgingly unties his trousers and pulls them low enough that his full member is out; he fists himself in his hand while approaching you. In a twisted way, it made you feel better knowing that he didn’t really want this either. He pushes your dress up to your hips so he could have access to where he needed and lines himself up and searches your face for any indication he should stop. When you nod, he begins to slowly thrust inside you. You stare up at the ceiling, fisting the sheets between your fingers, feeling an uncomfortable stinging below while listening to heavy panting and grunting. Aemond’s breathing becomes ragged as his thrusts become sloppy. Seconds later, he pulls out of you; his eyes widen when he looks down, noticing blood on himself and the sheets. “Is that supposed to happen? Do I need to fetch the maester?”

“It’s normal,” you say, pushing your dress back down.

Aemond stuffs himself back into his pants and stands up. He looks uncomfortable trying to figure out something to say; he leans down and kisses you on the cheek, then picks up his jacket and leaves without saying a word.

—

At your request, your handmaiden scrubs at your skin until it’s a bright red after braiding your damp hair. Doing your duty had left you feeling dirty, no matter how many times you had bathed. “Your tea is getting cold, princess.”

“So is this water,” you say softly.

Your handmaiden helps you step out of the bath and places a robe over you. “I’ll change the water for you right away, princess.”

You smile at her, Tracy looked younger than the other handmaids and had a sweet smile, dark raven hair, and striking blue eyes. “Unless my mother is around, please call me Theo.”

She nods, smiling, before going to change the water in your bath. You sip on the lukewarm tea, thinking about the morning after your wedding night and how you swore a servant girl to secrecy before asking her to bring you moon tea.

Once your bath was ready, you stepped back in, enjoying the heat nipping at your skin. You close your eyes and lay your head back, trying to relax. In the past two weeks, you had only left your bedchamber a few times to fly on Dallax. The news that Aegon and Helaena were announced after your wedding and hearing it broke something inside you. You had yet to see anyone else aside from Tracy or the maids who brought you your meals.

You open your eyes when you hear a light clanging noise and see Tracy gripping a small knife tightly and staring in the opposite direction. You sit upright and ask, “What are you doing?”

“It’s nothing, princess, Theo. I thought I heard someone inside.”

You were impressed by her instinct to reach for a weapon and defend herself. “Where did this noise come from?”

She points towards the large, thick green curtains that hang beside the doorway to the balcony. Butterflies begin to dance inside your stomach. “Tracy, you may finish early for the evening.”

She looks at you hesitantly.

“It’s almost sundown; you will be finishing shortly anyway. I will see you in the morning.”

“Do you want me to check what that noise was first?”

“No,” you chuckle. “Now go enjoy the rest of your evening.”

She smiles brightly at you, her fears from moments ago long forgotten. “Thank you, princess.”

You smile knowing it, and it will take her awhile to get used to calling you Theo. When your chamber doors are closed, you lean back into your bath. “What do you call someone who spies on others as they bathe?”

You close your eyes again, hearing the footsteps from outside draw closer to you, then the sound of what sounds like furniture. It unfazed you that with the wrong move he would see you completely naked if he hadn’t already. You finally look at Aegon, who is now sitting on a chair beside you; the smell of ale on his breath is strong.

“I wasn’t spying,” he pouts.

“Perv.”

He looks amused by your insult. “I came to check on you; I haven’t seen you since your wedding day.” He clicks his tongue as his fingers skim across the steaming water. “I gave the girl who served you that morning after your wedding enough money to start a new life far away from here,” he says. “It seems married life doesn’t agree with you.”

You snort at his comment, “Perhaps it will agree with you.”

“Maybe you will have given your husband a child or two by then.”

You slap him hard across the face.

“Forgive me, that was a cruel thing to say.” You feel the warmth of a hand on your face, forcing you to look up. “I won’t tell anyone, but you need to promise me you will be more discreet. There will be hell to pay if Aemond finds out”

You hold back from smiling because the situation is serious, but Aegon’s genuine concern warms your heart. Nobody else saw past him being a drunken whore who indulges himself in all types of pleasures, but there was so much more to him. He cares deeply for Sunfyre and wants to be loved more than anything. Your father often ignored him, your mother criticized him for the smallest thing, and Aemond often teased him for being less book smart than him.

You would have shown him nothing but love if given the chance.

“I know,” you sink your head lower into the water. “I just need a bit more time before being bred like cattle. It hurt. I'm dreading the next time we need to... perform our duty.”

“Sweet girl,”he sighs. “You dreamed about marrying someone who sings songs about fighting and dying for love.”

“Don’t you? Isn't that why you begged Mother to let us get married?”

Aegon swallows thickly, his eyes tearing up. He suddenly cups your face; his tired, sunken eyes bore into yours. “My biggest regret was asking for permission; I should have just taken you as my wife the moment you became of age.”

“Aegon…”

“It doesn’t matter,” he sniffs as a single tear falls down his face. “But you're his now, there’s nothing I can do.”

You cut him off by clashing your lips against his.

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