#aemon fanfiction

[aemondsloverrrrr]

other woman (chapter 2)

summary. it seem everytime you try to spend time with your husband, be turns down the offer, so you went to spend time with his brother instead

pairing. aemond x fem!targaryen!oc, a little aegon ii x fem!targaryen!oc

warning.

pt1  pt2

after the commotion that morning, Reina was called to dine with her family for lunch, receiving the news by her handmaiden, she stormed out of her chambers holding her head high as she made her way to the dining hall.

unfortunately, bumping into Aemond and Alys on the way, so this is the Alys girl. Reina thought to herself, it was her first time ever seeing the girl. Alys’ long black hair, and beautiful green eyes, she is beautiful. no wonder Aemond cannot get over her.

“she looks like a witch” she muttered very quietly, hoping no one heard her.

“Wife.” Aemond spoke without any emotion, greeting her “Aemond, Lady Rivers” she did the same, not even trying to hide her disappointment. “princess,” Alys bowed at her showing a half genuine smile.

“lady Rivers, i heard so much about you” she showed a thin smile, Aemond knew where this was going, he knew how his wife had a sarcastic personality. “good things, i hope” “oh of course,” she hums.

“though, i had heard that you were a bastard of Lord Lyonel Strong? or maybe i heard wrong” Reina squinted her eyes, her. index finger tapping her lips, “well, i cannot help it but tell you, Aemond. i had never thought of you as a man who would love a Strong bastard, seeing at how much hatred you had for my siblings. it is very unpredictable of you” she let out a laugh, seeing Aemond’s face furious is entertaining to her.

“i do not think it is your business to question my birth, princess” Alys replied, her tone making Reina stunned, “well, you know, people nowadays. spreading such false rumor about one’s birth, tsk tsk” she shook her head, “i know princess, there is so many things wrong with the people” Alys agreed, “you are right Alys, especially stealing a married man? can you believe it!” Reina has her eyes wide before clapping.

oh, the look on Aemond’s face makes Reina want to laugh hysterically. “well, i must not bother you anymore, for mother had called me in for lunch. it was great meeting you, Lady Rivers” Reina let out her most beautiful smile anyone has seen, “you too, princess” Alys bowed before they walked the opposite direction of each other.

“whore” Reina rolled her eyes muttering the words as she walks closer to the dining hall.

opening the doors of the dining hall, she was greeted by her mother-in-law, Aegon, Helaena and her children. “good morning, Reina. come sit, we have been waiting for you” said Alicent, Reina took a seat across Aegon, seeing his face after that night makes her want to throw up.

“where is Aemond?” Alicent looked around, “i saw him with his whore” Aegon said, day drinking again. “now that i think of it, i have never seen you sober, brother” said Reina looking directly at Aegon.

a smirk grew on Aegon’s lips “i could try, if you want me to” “no thank you”

Alicent cleared her throat “Aegon, what whore?” “mother?” “Aegon, what whore?” she raised her voice a little. “the black haired girl, the one with green eyes. the um” he snapped his fingers trying to remember the name “oh! oh! the witch!” he smiled.

Alicent sighed, looking at Reina who looked back with disappointment, “i’m sorry Reina, i truly am.” she held the younger’s hand, “it is alright mother, he could do whatever he wants. for he is prince” Reina sadly smiled, “you do not deserve this, i will speak to him about the matter” replied Alicent.

“mother, i think it is better if we just let it slide for the mean time.” “Reina, you’re his wife this is unacceptable-” “he’s happy, mother. i had never seen him this happy since then, she makes him happy.” Reina interrupted Alicent.

“you do not deserve this, my daughter” she squeezed Reina’s hand.

Reina spent the afternoon out in the gardens with her children, “Aeron! Aeron! no!” Reina and Odette chased the little boy who was running to a pond, but before he could a pair of hands carried him.

“gotcha” the guy laughed, Reina sighed out of relief, walking closer to the person. “thank you, Aegon” she smiled lightly at him. “no worries” he gave a smile back, “fish! fish! i want fish!” Aeron pointed at the pond, “what do you want? hm?” asked Aegon.

“fish! fish!” Aeron kept pointing, “you want to play with the fish?” Aeron nodded, “i’ll have the kingsguard fetch some fish food for him.” Aegon said to Reina then calling the kingsguard.

Reina watched them in awe, looking at how Aegon plays with her son and daughter, she had never seen Aemond like this. maybe because whenever she tried to, he would say he wanted to spend time with them alone.

“look! look! the fish is eating it? did you see?” Aegon sat on the grass, with Aeron sitting on his lap and Aeryn sitting beside them. “fishie fishie, here. food!” Aeryn threw the fish food at the pond, she laughs while clapping her hands when she saw the fish eating it quickly.

maybe during that time, Reina forgot what happened to her and Aegon, maybe he is actually a good guy when he’s sober.

“mama! look! look! fish!” Aeron giggled, covering his mouth with his tiny hands, “you must go and play with them, princess” Odette elbowed her with a smile.

Reina walked over to them, kneeling down beside Aegon and Aeryn. “here mama, you feed” Aeryn handed her mother some fish food, Reina threw the food over sat the pond, “yay!”

the cold air hitting their faces, Aeryn’s hair began covering her face, “Aeryn darling look at you! your hair!” she teased her daughter, Aegon and Aeron joined in, “oh Aeryn, your hair is covering your face! i cannot see it anymore!” said Aegon, Aeron laughs at his sister.

after a few laughs Reina began combing her daughter’s platinum hair with her fingers. “my beautiful daughter”

Reina grabbed more fish food from the basket, but she only grabbed one in her right hand.

“look, alright?” Reina grabbed one of the fish food, holding it over the water, after few seconds a fish jumped out. The fish ate the food but also bit her finger, “ow!” she held her finger close, shaking her hand to get rid of the pain.

Aegon immediately grabbed her hand, “are you okay?” he examined her finger “i’m fine, it was nothing, my King.” she tried to take her hand back but Aegon refused. “i told you. no formalities” Reina nodded.

“we should go to the maester, i see a cut” Aegon massaged the palm of her hand and finger “no need, Aegon. It was just a small bite” she gave him a sweet smile. tucking her hair behind her ear.

“fine, if you say so” Aegon continued playing with Aeron and Aeryn.

a cough was heard behind them, both adults turned seeing Aemond with his hand behind his back.

“o-oh, husband,” she stood up quickly, dusting off the dirt from her dress. “brother” Aegon nodded still carrying Aeron.

“why are you home so early? you usually come back before supper” Reina has a thin smile, “i came back with toys for our children” said Aemond, no smile no anything. “Aeron, Aeryn, your father is back with some toys” “toys!” the two siblings diverted their attention from the fish pond to their father. “daddy! miss you daddy!” Aeryn ran to him.

Aemond smiled carrying his daughter, a rose fell from his back. Reina noticed the rose “you miss me? really?” Aeryn shyly nodded “yes daddy” she hid in her father’s neck, “well, i miss you too my daughter” he placed a kiss on top of her head.

what a daddy’s girl.

“come, Aeron. i had brought many toys for you. do you want to see it?” Aemond had his other hand out, waiting for his son to reach it. Looking at Aegon who is carrying Aemond’s son.

“dad! toys!” Aegon places Aeron on the ground, he runs to his father holding his hand. “mama? come!” Aeron motioned his hand, calling for his mother. Reina have a look at Aemond then at Aegon.

“i will catch up with you later, okay?” Aeron nodded. they walk into the palace, into Aemond’s chamber.

“why did you stay?” “i do not feel like wasting my time with Aemond” she shook her head. “then, may i talk you out for a walk around red keep?” a hand stretched out. “gladly” she placed her hand softly on Aegon’s.

[oosleepyfaeoo]

From Another World

Jaehaerys I/Family x Modern!Child!Oc

Summary: The Gods blessed the Jaehaerys and Alysanne with another child but... from another world.

Prologue Masterlist A/n: I just had this idea of making a story with Jaehaerys and Alysanne and their children x Modern!child. This is just a small sample but i hope you guys like it.

“Lilith! Don’t go far!” Her dad yells as he helps her mom set up the picnic. 

A fit of giggle left her lips as she run into the woods, ignoring completely her dad’s words. Her big mismatched eyes looked around in awe, marveling at the big trees and rocks with small patches of muss on top. The rays of the sun trying to peek from the soft leaves while they move gently with the breeze along with her auburn hair. 

Lilith’s parents decided to take her on a small trip to a natural park, reasoning that taking their daughter to get some fresh air would be good for her. To run away from the city for a while. 

But they were so wrong. 

After some running around, Lilith gasps in wonder at the beautiful clearing before her. Her sharp eyes quickly noticed the big well in the middle of it. 

Moving her little legs as quick she could, the small child giggle in excitement as she move towards the well. As she come closer, she notice a big three-headed dragon engraved on the old stone.  

“Wow...” She murmurs as she traces her chubby fingers through it. “Ouch!” She hisses when the sharp corner of the head of the dragon cut her finger.  

She puts her finger on her mouth, trying to numb the sting a little. Her crimson blood run down the engraved dragon, making it look like the blood was coming out of his mouth.  

Lilith cleaned her hands on her shorts, examining the stone carefully. “P-Per-Perzys Ā-Ānogār?...” (Fire and Blood) The child attempt to read the strange words beneath the dragon. “I wonder what it means.” She murmurs. 

Suddenly a bright light begins to shine from inside the well, making Lilith jump in shock. She could hear two soothing voices echoing from inside the well which made her tilt her head in confusion. 

“Hello?” She leans down slowly, thinking that maybe someone it’s down there and perhaps they might need help.  

When she looks down, she could only see darkness. The bright light was long gone, only leaving behind the smooth voices. Which sounded so far away.  

Climbing the stone, she sits on it to take a better look. “Weird-” She yelp in fear as two cold hands grab her by the shoulders and pull her into the well.  

Her screams were cut off as a deep but smooth voice echoed in her head.  

“...They need you...” 

/// 

“Please, husband! Just give her more time.” The Good Queen, Alysanne Targaryen, begged her husband. “Daella is just a mere child. She will choose a husband when the time is right.”  

Jaehaerys let out a frustrated sigh, clearly annoyed that he and the Queen couldn’t find the perfect match for their sweet daughter.  

“She keeps rejecting every man that approaches her!” The King says, sitting down on their shared bed. “Because a Knight is too scary for her or some young Lord doesn’t share the same Gods that she has. Alysanne... We can’t keep letting her run away from her duties.”  

Alysanne took a deep breath and cups his face in her hands, making him look into her lilac eyes. “I know but-” 

A loud noise suddenly echoed through their chambers, making both of them jump. A strange black hole opens above them and a small red-haired girl falls down, into their bed. 

The girl lay there unconscious. The couple only knew she was alive because of her moving chest, her breathing coming out in deep short huffs.  

Alysanne was the first to approach the small girl, examining her carefully, and noticing her strange clothing.  

“Careful, wife. We don’t know if she is dangerous.” Jaehaerys warns, his rough gaze glued to the girl’s form.  

“Oh don’t be an idiot, Jaehaerys. She’s just a child.” She huffs as she picks up the child, cuddling gently her into her chest.  

A smile forms on the Queen’s lips, finding quite adorable the way the child trying to seek her warmth.  

Jaehaerys already knows his wife's intention. “Alysanne... We can’t keep her.”  

The Queen hums and give him a smirk. “Yes, we can! Now if you excuse me, I need to take our child to the maester.”  

Jaehaerys sighs in defeat. “Looks like I have another child.”  

I'm gonna do a tag list for this story. If you want to be tag click -> HERE

[yummycastiel]

''The Dreamer'' Aemond Targaryen x OC Series Masterlist

summary: Daenys Velaryon, the brown-haired second child of Rhaenyra and Laenor, travels to King's Landing with her family to visit the King, her grandfather, and to witness Jacaerys' and Baela's wedding. As tensions between house Targaryen rise, Daenys and Aemond cross paths once again, and the prince discovers an annoying attraction to the Velaryon girl. (AU where the Dance doesn't happen because I said so and I just wanted to write an Aemond fanfic that isn't too complicated lol)

ship: aemond targaryen x original female character

info: targ!cest, uncle/neice

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

part 9

part 10

part 11

[bittersweetarts]

Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chapter 2)

Aemond Targaryen x You –  Chapter 1

Word count: 6608 words

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: Explicit violence, misogynistic behaviour (borderline sexist), dubious consent, no smut

Spotify Playlist – AO3 Page

Chapter 2: Jealousy

It has been little over a month since your settlement at the Red Keep, and thankfully, you have seen little of the wayward Prince.

Aemond had been away at Driftmark, or at least that is what you think Helaena told you. To be frank, you really did not care. He was away somewhere, wherever that was, to quell some resistance (because unsurprisingly, not all are content with being oath breakers and/or serving cruel tyrants). In a way, you wish you had been brave and refused Queen Alicent’s request, as some others are refusing to pledge loyalty to the current monarchs, because you could not say that you were happy being at King’s Landing. You did feel almost at ease, but you could not help but dread whatever misfortune that is heading your way, and you had no doubt that something bad was going to happen to you. Worst of all, you knew that now, you do not have your family to protect you.

The capitol lacked the beauty and charm of your ancestral home, and you missed the wild sea, which you loved to frequent whenever you could. Contrastingly, the water at Blackwater Bay was rank, and the weather was perpetually humid. Your father’s parting words also permanently echo in your inner dialogue, especially before bed every night.

“Secure a marriage with anyone suitable as soon as possible and leave King’s Landing. There is little I can do for you now, my child.”

The remainder of the Summer Solstice Festival was uneventful, and oddly, you could not help but notice that no one would approach you at all during the final events. You opted to miss as many of the events as you could, feigning illness from the unaccustomed weather. To be fair though, you did feel sick at many of these events. Just a glimpse of the one-eyed Prince or his brothers made you feel violently ill, and you remained glued to your brother’s side, successfully deterring unwanted attention. Mostly, you kept your eyes down to your feet and remained silent. Often, you felt paranoid, as it constantly felt like you were being watched. That could not be true, could it?

Little known to you, you were garnered little physical attention during the remainder of the Festival, not because you were unnoticeable. On the contrary, after the Ball, you had become the main topic of conversation for many at the Keep. Though no one seemingly observed your interaction with the Prince on the balcony, you were seen being carried off unconscious on the arms of a Prince known for violence, and predictably, many gossiped about the events in closed quarters.

Though the Prince did not bother himself with idle tongues, he did come up with some meager excuse for his family for the event, which they accepted prima facie, because why would they not? It was none of their concern and they had many more pressing matters. Also, the Queen had become almost fond of you, well enough to turn a blind eye to any indiscretions that may or may not have occurred; and more likely, nothing had happened, because her darling Aemond would never commit any such depravity, for he has never been anything like Aegon.

Any potential suitors which your mother had entertained suddenly gone taciturn, and with your impending relocation, you chaperones chose to ignore the obvious and begin to dote on you, giving you more attention than ever had in your life. What everyone, except you, knew is that there was a silent figure behind the scenes which intimidated all noblemen at the Keep from even starting a conversation in public regarding you. Having no one to talk to, except your mother and Steffan, you felt isolated, which was not unusual, but you knew that this time, it was not you who decided these terms. You had even hoped that perhaps, an opportunity to interact with Queen Helaena would present itself. However, she was constantly busy, and you rarely got to talk to her.

Thankfully, the Festival ended quickly. At the blink of an eye, you were home at Storm’s End, packing your belongings and saying goodbye to your family. It was particularly difficult saying goodbye to your youngest siblings, who you helped raise, and they had barely reached the middle of their childhoods. They were so young and could not understand why you were leaving. You were not being wed, so why should you leave their family?

More painful however, were the despairing looks your elder siblings and parents gave you. No one uttered a word about your time at King’s Landing, for what could they say?

And so, you found yourself soon back at the capitol, alone now. The kind Queen Helaena however, tried so very hard to make you feel otherwise, and as did the lovely Queen Alicent.

Following your arduous journey, you were greeted by the female members of the Royal Family and settled into your new quarters, which though smaller, was significantly more lavish than your previous accommodations at the Keep. You also could not help but notice the stocked shelves near the wooden desk in your room, filled with countless titles which caught your eye. The title that immediately caught you eye was ‘Ruined Cities, Stolen Gods’ by a man named Vaggoro.

You were also introduced to Helaena’s children – Jaehaera, Jaehaerys and Maelor. Each was as lovely as their mother, and though they did not resemble your siblings, you could not help but feel affection towards them just the same. During the day, you found yourself spending time with Helaena and her children. Some afternoons you would be at the Gardens, playing hide and seek with the children, and on more warmer days, you would be at their chambers, sat on a daybed, reading to them about Targaryen history. Occasionally, Helaena’s brother-husband, Aegon would hastily greet you whilst visiting his children and sister-wife, but mostly, he ignored you.

It is common fact throughout Westeros that Aegon II has been different since his capture by his uncle, the now deceased Prince Daemon Targaryen. The stories about what had happened during his capture remains mystery, but what everyone accepts is that the King has become an empty shell of who he used to be. Whether that was so terrible, you could not say, as his childhood depravity was infamous throughout the Kingdom.

More often though, you would find Prince Daeron with the children and Helaena. As expected from a young Prince, he frequently skived training and history classes, spending time with the children. He would tell them lively stories of his adventures riding the she-dragon, Tessarion, and would often casually flirt with you. You did not mind it, and in a way, the young Prince reminded you of Steffon, who was similarly charismatic, frequently flirtatious, and rarely failed to lift the spirits of those he was around.

You also knew that Prince Daeron’s flirting was harmless. He was more than almost a decade younger than you, and you soon saw that he flirted not only with you and almost every lady at the Keep, but even with some boys, and rather shamelessly so. Not that it is any of your business.

And so, time gently glided by. Slowly, you started feeling at peace at King’s Landing. In a way perhaps, complacent, as you did not heed your father’s parting advice. You did not try to entertain suitors, and during the evenings (your only free time), you chose to confine yourself in your chambers, reading one of the many books in your new collection. You did not even have to bring yourself to visit the Keep’s Library, as you were satisfied with the options in your chambers. Also, you still felt uneasy about being out alone after dark, memories of the last time you had done so flooding in like a heavy current.

You found that your sweet tooth at the capitol was best satisfied by plum cakes, and you always stopped by the Royal Kitchens every morning to bashfully grab some for breakfast. You could not stomach properly eating in front of anyone except family, so you always broke your fast alone before joining the Royal Family for breakfast.

Slowly, your daily routine transpired. Although there were many other ladies-in-waiting, maids and servants at the Keep, you and Helaena’s family soon became absorbed in your own world, with its little routines. Part of your morning tasks included being the only person to set out breakfast for the Royal Family. This was so out of security precautions; Helaena did not trust anyone being left alone with you in a room filled with items that could be weaponized, and you did not mind being alone. The idle work helped keep your mind off anxious thoughts, and you let yourself get absorbed in the mundane tasks.

Perhaps that is why you did not realise that the wayward Prince was back. When you entered the dining room, expecting it to be empty, it was still dawn. The room was dim, lit by candlelight, and you had only started preparing the table. As you set down the cutlery, a clinking sound echoed throughout the room. Once done, you turned around to head back to the Kitchens, but froze at the sight of Prince Aemond, dressed casually in a billowy white blouse and black riding trousers. It had been a long while since you had seem him last.

The one-eyed Prince was leaning against the wall next to the exit, observing you with a smirk. You were dressed in a short-sleeved light blue gown, and the Prince found the contrast against your tan skin appealing, the vision intoxicating his judgment.

“Please, do not stop upon my accord.”

The Prince was in a good mood, you noted, which was unlike your first solitary encounter, and you preferred this attitude much more. Opting to maintain this mood, you forced a small smile and bowed, briskly heading towards the exit, whilst keeping your hands tightly together in front of you. You had almost managed to leave the room, but foreseeably, Prince Aemond stopped you, gently grabbing your left arm.

“What, no good morning? Am I still to receive your silent treatment?” He spoke lightheartedly with a smile. You bit your tongue, halting any haughty reply. You understood that this is simply a game for the Prince, and you decided that it was best to bore him.

“Good morning, my Prince. Welcome back,” you say in a monotonous voice, devoid of any affection.

You still keep your gaze down to your hands, which slightly irritated the Prince. As alluring you are in that position, the wayward Prince wanted you look back at him, with your memorably defiant stare.

“ ‘My Prince’ – I like that,” Aemond spoke lowly, lifting your chin to face him. “I can think of a few ways you can truly welcome me back,”

You knew that it was too early for anyone to stumble upon you, but the walls have eyes and ears here, and you knew that this would not bode well for you. The Prince, on the other hand, would be left unscathed, even if he were not royalty.

Ignoring his comment and trying to pull away, you looked back at the Prince, endeavouring to change the topic.

“I must finish setting the table before the rest of your family wake. May I request anything from the Kitchens for your breakfast?” Though you attempt to pull away, Prince Aemond still firmly holds your jaw, staring back at you with his violet eye. Ignoring your question, he responds.

“You are not as amusing so early the morning.”

“And you are not amusing to me generally,” you say defiantly, irritated with his attitude now.

Contrastingly, Aemond remained smiling, and opted to amuse himself since you were ceasing to do so. Dragging his fingers smoothly from your jaw, the Prince proceeded to trace your collarbones, which were exposed by your dress. The Prince could not help but notice how bare your chest was. You, on the other hand, had never have you regretted your choice of attire as much as you had then. But what were you to do? If you even raised your voice and someone intervened, you would be found by in a compromising position. Would it even help if you asked him to stop?

So, you chose to do nothing, letting your nerves get the better of you. You closed your eyes, hoping that by some miracle, you would be left alone, or for this moment to pass quickly.

Aemond continued to trace your collarbones, and then your chest, slowly. He was enjoying watching you squirm, and relished the moment. To say you felt helpless was an understatement. Without realising, tears escaped your eyes, which slid down your face and onto your chest.

“Has anyone told you how pretty you are when you cry?”

Opening your eyes, you see him staring at your mouth, which vexed you.

“No, but then again, most do not find arousal in the sorrow of others.”

Smiling, Aemond collected remnants of your tears with his forefinger, and tasted it, maintaining eye contact with you. Letting go of your arm, he ran his hand through your hair, softly, as he did before. Though it felt pleasant physically, the circumstances only fueled your indignation.

“I shall let you return to your duties, my lady. The children are to wake soon and will be hungry. If you think me a monster, you must yet have to see them famished.” Chuckling, he resigned to himself.

The moment he let you go, you fled, wiping your face with your sleeve, feeling slightly robbed of your dignity.

The morning quickly drifted by. The wayward Prince was absent at breakfast, much to the dismay of Queen Alicent, who had dearly missed her son. You, however, could not even remotely share the same sentiment. It was here you found out that he had only arrived shortly before meeting you, and was now asleep in his chambers.

The children bickered between themselves, Helaena ranted about her dreams, and the remaining Princes spoke amongst themselves. At one point, Prince Daeron complimented your dress, which would normally flatter you, but not today. At this point, you were ready to burn the dress.

It was an otherwise uneventful morning, and the afternoon similarly drifted by. The twins were off with Queen Helaena, having their portraits painted, and you found yourself alone entertaining young Prince Maelor.

He was a lovely, but mischievous child, and enjoyed causing harmless trouble throughout the Keep. By late afternoon, you found yourself carrying the young Prince to his chambers. After you finally caught the young boy sprinting away from a Ser Osgrey, who he had thrown mud at, exhaustion swept over him, and you decided to carry him off to his chambers and read to him before supper.

Setting the tired child down onto one edge of the emerald-toned day bed, you went off and picked up the thick brown book laying at the windowsill. The heavy book, filled with illustrations, depicted Targaryen history, and it was the unspoken responsibility of every member of the Royal Family to be well acquainted with it.

As you read aloud, Prince Maelor laid his head on your thighs and listened to you read until drifting off to sleep.

“… A modest feast followed the ceremony, and many toasts were drunk to the health of the boy king and his new queen. Afterward Jaehaerys and Alyssane retired to –”

“You have a lovely voice.”

You slightly jump, startled by the new voice. For a moment, you expect King Aegon, or even Prince Daeron, as they are the only ones aside from Queen Helaena who are permitted to enter the children’s chambers without permission. That is, apart from Prince Aemond, who now stood at the closed doorway of the room. You gently rocked the boy Prince, who began to tumble in his sleep due to your startled movement.

“Thank you, my Prince,” you softly respond, glancing at him momentarily before returning your attention to the book in your hands, although you have now stopped reading aloud.

There is a small gap on the daybed to your left, and you suddenly feel it dip. All of the sudden, you feel very warm and your cheeks flush, which the Prince immediately notices, and his lip quirks into a side smile.

“Though it flatters me, you do not have to lose your voice every time I enter the room, my lady.” The wayward Prince smoothly speaks into your ear. At this, your breath hitches. Flustered, you stare at the sleeping Prince.

“So, you are teaching our future Kings and Queen our history. Please do continue, I am sure my beloved nephew still can hear your lovely voice in his sleep. I certainly do.”

For a moment, you contemplate your potential courses of action. You could wake the boy Prince to move away, but that would not help you escape Prince Aemond, and may distress the child. You do not feel obligated to follow the one-eyed Prince’s ridiculous decree, but you also do not fancy hearing his indignant voice anymore, so you decide to read aloud anyways.

Taking in a breath, you glance down at the book again, and continue reading. At one point, you feel Prince Aemond lean his cheek against your shoulder and neck lightly, which momentarily paralyses you. But as you glance at him, you realise that he is simply staring at the book, trying to get a better view. Or at least, that is what you convince yourself, which in actuality, is untrue.

You had been reading for a long while now, and the sun is beginning to set. Though your mind drifts to wondering when the twins and Helaena would return, you knew that portrait painting was a lengthy affair, and that they would be busy probably until supper.

“… The year continued without further crisis or test as Jaehaerys and Alyssane settled in to rule. If certain members of the small council were taken aback when the Queen began to attend their meetings, they voiced their objections only to one another, and soon not even that, for the young Queen proved to be wise, well-read and clever.”

“Reminds me of someone I know,” Prince Aemond interrupted, leaning more onto you. You were now very close, and oddly, an unexplainable feeling coursed through you. Without meaning to, you looked at him, and saw a sincere expression in his face, which felt uncharacteristic. Though the comment was vague, Aemond did truly mean it, based on all of the probing he had done into your life since your arrival.

Aemond proceeded to physically detach himself from you. Facing you, he moved some of the wavy hair that had collected against your slightly damp neck, inching increasingly closer to your face.

You were about to respond, but the sleeping Prince decided to wake at that point. Feeling his stirring, you moved away from the one-eyed Prince, picking the small boy up and hugging him. You knew that Prince Aemond was closely observing you, but found yourself unphased by his stare now. In a way, you have become almost accustomed to his presence. You gently rocked the boy Prince, as he slowly woke.

“Uncle?” He voice spoke groggily first, before repeating in a more excited tone. “Uncle? You have returned!” Prince Maelor almost entirely jumped from you onto Price Aemond, which the latter embraced delightfully, picking the young boy up and spinning him around the room whilst greeting him.

If you were being honest, the sight of the long-haired blonde Prince spinning his nephew around as the warm sunset light drifted in through the window, was beautiful, and it became a memory you would truly cherish.

You had felt content for the following weeks to come. Your duties made time fly by, but as the weather slightly cooled, you started to feel better, and less overwhelmed by the foreign city.

The days passed as they always did, the only difference being the ever-needy presence of Prince Aemond. As a trusted confidant of the King, Prince Aemond was constantly busy, yet he always made time to be around Helaena and the children, and by extension, you. And this was an arrangement to the Prince’s liking, not that he was surprised, as his plans rarely go astray.

However, the cruel Prince did not anticipate one unwelcomed factor in his plan: Jayse Wylde, one of the eldest of the Jasper Wylde’s many children.

Jasper Wylde is the master of laws in his elder brother's small council, and for some odd reason, this made his heir, Jayse, feel immune to the callousness of the one-eyed Prince.

It was known throughout the Keep that you were off bounds, practically prohibited. It was clear as day that the Queens cherished your presence, trusting you with the children, and the attention Prince Aemond had bestowed upon you was unlike his public character, and many whispered behind closed doors that you were his paramour.

Unbeknownst to you, during one of the nights of the Festival, a nobleman from some northern house spoke crudely about your figure that evening, not realising that the one-eyed Prince was nearby, and to this day, no one knows where this minor nobleman is. Most speculate that he was fed to the she-dragon, Vaghar, and the Prince has not tried to dispel with these rumours in the slightest.

That is why the one-eyed Prince did not even anticipate that the cocksure Jayse Wylde, who doesn’t even reside in King’s Landing, would try to garner your attention, because surely his father would knock some sense into him, would he not?

Yet, Jayse still tried.

He first stumbled upon you on a holy day, as you left the Great Sept of Baelor alone, following morning congregation. You wore a blue dress with a black cape, and Jayse did not recognise you at first. He felt compelled to introduce himself. Though you were initially startled, Jayse was charismatic and traditionally attractive, with a tall build and dark hair. As he introduced himself, you felt at ease.

He was charming and confident, and seemed similarly pious. You discovered that he was visiting his father at King’s Landing, and was recently anointed as the new Lord of Rain House, located in the stormlands, fairly close to Storm’s End. Hearing this, a surge of longing struck you. Immediately, you practically begged him to tell you all about his life there, and soon found yourself spending the day strolling with him through the nicer parts of the capitol, pleasantly conversing. Though it could have been deemed improper for a maiden like yourself to be alone with a lord in public, he kept a respectful distance and you felt like you could trust him.

Though you are beautiful, Jayse was most attracted when you introduced yourself. The nobleman recognised your good name immediately and decided to pursue. Based on word of mouth, he knew that the Targaryens valued you immensely, but have only known you for a brief amount of time. You leaving the Red Keep should not be a difficult, given that you are a noblewoman after all, and all expect you to wed. Having you as a lady wife for himself, or even his any of his brothers, would serve immense political utility. Yes, you would be a very useful piece in this game of thrones, and your presence alone would be good protection for the House of Wylde.

And slowly, the young Wylde began courting you, not discretely, but not publicly either, which suited you well, as you did not crave unwanted attention.

He felt familiar and being with him was a promise of being closer to home and family, something you valued vastly. Conversations with him flowed easily, and he never overstepped or disrespected you. He made his intentions towards you clear, or so you believed, and you began imagining a life with him. You both came from large families, and whilst the prospect of birthing many children frightened you, the potential joy that could arise filled you with hope. As much as you loved your siblings, you felt like you lost much of your childhood raising them.

Motherhood had always seemed like a distant prospect for you, but having recently spent so much time caring for the twins and Maelor, the idea of having offspring of your own in your homeland was something you began praying for before bed.

Given your age, position, and that you lacked any guardians or wards, Jayse proceeded to court you rapidly and untraditionally. In the matter of days, you formally met his father during evening tea, and it was this meeting that alerted the one-eyed Prince.

Aemond Targaryen had become accustomed to your presence in his life, and he began looking forward to your meetings. While he found your looks and intellect attractive, he most coveted your physical presence, for it had a soothing quality. You also almost always knew when to speak and when to remain silent, and with you, the mood of the room was constantly cheerful.

Prior to your arrival, his mother was frequently anxious, and almost always in a foul mood, and his sister Helaena persistently avoided her children, leaving them to some nameless maids whilst sinking into a slow depression. With your arrival, life slowly returned back into the Targaryen family. You brought a constant stream of interesting conversation, and when silence was needed, you provided a comforting presence.

That is why your absence at just one family supper had alarmed Prince Aemond. As usual, he strolled in after everyone had begun dining, and had immediately notice a vacant seat directly across the table from him, where you normally sat. The room was duller than normal, the children bickering among themselves, and no one aside from his mother greeted him. As he sat, he could not help but notice his sister’s gloomy silence.

“Where is your Lady? I did not peg her as one who abandons her duties,” Aemond spoke in a chagrin tone.

As if snapped from a trance, Helaena glanced at her brother.

“Oh. She had kindly asked if she could miss supper today, and I did not have the heart to decline her request. She never asks for anything.”

His younger brother, Daeron, oblivious as ever, had been stuffing his face, and managed to speak before Aemond could, his mouth still full.

“Ah! I was wondering where your fair lady was. Did she say what her plans were?”

“To meet the master of the laws. One of his sons is visiting, and he wanted to introduce her before he left,” Helaena responded wistfully, pushing her plate away. The Queen Alicent was silently observed the conversation and felt dread wash over her. Aegon on the other hand, remained absently aloof, slowly eating his meal. As Helaena spoke, the children were taken out of the room by some trusted maids, sensing the rigid atmosphere.

Suddenly, Aemond’s blood began pulsing rapidly. His face would not betray his anger, if not for the flaring of his nostrils.

The Prince had been in a good mood prior to this, and to say that he felt angry was an understatement. Though he had been busy this past week, preoccupied with stragetising the quashing some stupid resistance, he truly did not anticipate that you would organise a marriage on your own so quickly. He now realises that this was never something you were incapable of.

He also did not anticipate that anyone would be foolish enough to go against him again, especially not so soon after the war.

You were quite nervous when you met the master of the laws, but Jayse continuously reassured you that you had nothing to worry about. He told you that you were intelligent, pretty and his father would be a fool to expect anything more.

What you avoided telling the young Wylde was that you worried not of bad impressions, but that his father would strike down your courting immediately, by virtue of your identity. You were not a fool, and you realised that your lack of suitors was not due to your plain appearance or your house’s lack of influence, but due to certain dragons behind the scene. This was exactly what your father discretely warned you about, you felt silly for failing to realise it for so long.

Though you felt comfortable at King’s Landing now, for how long would it last? You were not blind, and you knew that the wayward Prince had at least a remote interest in you. Even he was not in the picture, what of the possessiveness of the Queens? Though you previously fantasised living an independent life, being away from your home and family made you detest yourself for being so ungrateful and ignorant. The life of being a spinster maid now felt like an awful fate, as did becoming a mistress to Prince Aemond. It would not be possible for him to wed someone of such little affluence like yourself, not that it mattered as you knew that you were merely a temporary folly to him, and nothing more. You might as well have been a human attraction in a visiting spectacle to him.

Thankfully though, evening tea went well. The well-spoken Jasper Wylde, though incredibly misogynistic, never ceased to be polite and understanding, and conversation was as pleasant as it could be, though you definitely restrained your tongue many times. The elder Wylde asked about your father, as they knew each other. You proceeded to tell him about some of your father’s exploits, such as his recent trade deal with a Dornish merchant family. This arrangement had introduced the steady import of lavish textiles, a prospect which relieved you immensely, as it has brought in a much-needed income for the household, whose debts seemed ever growing. You also assured the patriarch that a letter has been sent to her parents, informing them of the serious courting currently occurring.

Though untraditional, Jasper accepted this. Like his son, he knew the value of having you in the family, and this process needed to be expediated as quick as possible, so as to avoid the repercussions from the Royal Family. Though Jasper is not one to take such risks, his favoured son had already started, and this was not something that could be easily returned from.

As the evening came to its decline, the council member excused himself, stating that he went to bed early. You felt satisfied with how the introduction went. As you said your goodbyes, Jayse offered to escort to your bedroom. Naturally, you accepted, and the two of you set off. As you walked, the two of you remained in comfortable silence, at least until you neared your chambers. The hall was empty, which was not abnormal as fewer noblewomen have been serving the Queens as of late, resulting in this area of the Keep’s solitude.

“Why don’t you leave with me?” Jayse’s deep voice through the hallway.

You halted, turning to look at him, wide-eyed. Though you have been an active participant, you did not have any expectations for how this courting process would proceed. You have never done anything like this, and truthfully, it still felt like a fantasy.

At the very least, your parents needed to know of this courting, and Jayse had yet to propose your engagement. However, the young Wylde would still be staying for another week, and perhaps, with at their current rate, the prospect is realistic. Surely the Queens would understand your departure. Queen Helaena’s earlier compassion came to memory, and you felt hopeful.

That is, only for a brief moment.

As you opened your mouth to respond, you were suddenly pushed aside, though not harshly. Whilst you did not fall, you felt your soul leave your body. Because in the blink of an eye, you saw a familiar long-haired blonde, pouncing on the young Wylde with no difficulty at all.

For a brief period of time, you were in disbelief of what was happening. You have read stories about violence and bloodshed daily since childhood, but this was the first time you truly witnessed it directly.

In front of you was Prince Aemond, savagely striking your suitor repeatedly, with no difficulty. Whether Jayse put up a fight, you could not say, because when you came to your senses, his face was bloody and unrecognisable. He was unconscious by the time you found your voice, and Aemond showed no indication of stopping. Though his back was facing you, the only sound in the empty hallways was his heavy breathing and a horrid cracking sound. It was this sound that snapped you into your senses.

“Aemond, please, please, stop this!” You yelled through your sobs. You did not even realise that you were crying. But the Prince did not stop, and you proceeded to repeat yourself, again and again. He would not stop however, and you did not know what to do.

You tried to wrap your arms around his waist, but instead, you were mistakenly knocked away. Aemond, blinded by his violent rage, did not even realise. But you were not one to be easily dismayed, and tried again, until you managed to wrap your arms around him. His movements were vicious, and you knew that you would be bruised, at the very least, as collateral damage. Yet you remained, hugging him tighter and begging him until he finally stopped.

You do not know when it was that he halted, but it felt like forever. As you held him tightly, he continued shaking, and you along with him. You were still sobbing, and whether the back of his shirt was damp from sweat or your tears, you could not say. But you remained that way, terrified that if you let him go, he would continue until he murdered Jayse. That is, if he survived this beating.

As the Prince’s breathing slowed, he placed his hands on yours, and unclasped you from himself, turning around to face you. You kept your eyes shut however, afraid to see the damage. You could feel the sleek wetness of the Prince’s hands, and you knew that it was Jayse’s blood, now coating your own hands.

With vehemence, Aemond grabbed hold of your jaw, and the rigid action and the coldness of his damp hands made you open your eyes in surprised. Your eyes were bloodshot, and you were still crying, but that only seemed to satisfy Aemond. Cruelly, the Prince spoke.

“Is not clear to you? How can someone so clever act so dim? What else must I do for you to understand?” Harshly pulling your face to his, Aemond continued, almost spitting his words. “Your place is here with us now. With me.”

Grabbing hold of your waist, the Prince pulled you closer, and you tried shaking your head in defiance, but failed, as Aemond tightened his grip. Moving aside, the Prince pulled on your chin, making face Jayse. The sight made you physically ill, and you immediately shut your eyes.

What you saw was no longer Jayse, but a remnant of who he physically was. Pulling you face back to his, the Prince continued, though you truly wish he had not.

“You do not belong to some fucking insolent lord of nowhere. You belong to me. What must I do for you to understand, to behave?” His words reminded you to those from the first night, and you start shaking even more profusely.

“Let it be clear without any doubt.” You suddenly felt his harsh grip on your face release, and suddenly, a soft hand caressed gently caressed your cheeks, and he changed his tone of speech into something soft, as if he were a lover whispering sweet words into your ear.

“Open your eyes, my lamb.” That stupid nickname only made you shut your eyes more tightly.

Suddenly, the Prince screamed: “Open your eyes, woman! Or perhaps I should finish what I started.”

With this threat, you opened your eyes and grasped hold of his waist again, incredibly tightly. You did this to hopefully stop him, but the Prince interpreted your actions differently. Smiling for the first time since seeing you, he hugged you, and proceeded to stroke your hair gently. The thought of Jayse’s blood in your hair made you feel even more ill, but you swallowed down anything that threatened to escape. The only thing that calmed you down was the fact that you could now hear laboured breathing coming from Jayse. He seems to be unconscious, but alive, and that is all that mattered to you at that point.

Though he still firmly held your waist, you let go of the Prince, and reached up to gently grab his face, cupping it. Aemond was surprised by this, not expecting you to calm down, but here you were, directing his attention and speaking in an even tone.

“I will do whatever you want, whatever it is that you ask for. I will not try to leave, you have my word.” Aemond truly felt like he was in heaven, hearing those words leave your mouth. Though you were sobbing no more, a tear escaped your eye. “But please, my Prince. I beg of you, please, help me bring him to the infirmary.”

Ignoring the last part of your request, Aemond stared at you with his dilated eye, and smiled sincerely, before responding.

“Anything?”

“Anything. I promise.”

The Prince proceed to bring his face to yours, nestling his nose near your left ear, while whispering.

“Tell me that you are mine.”

Swallowing your pride, you comply.

“I am yours.”

“Say it again.”

He reminded you of a child, in need of constant reassurance. You wished you could just slap him, but you were desperate, and you knew that Jayse’s life was in your hands now. You do the only thing you could think of. Tilting your head to your left, you lean forward and chastely press your lips against the Prince’s, hoping that this satisfies him. Pulling away, you feel your lips tingle, and realise that his lip was bloody. It was his own, the fresh copper taste stinging in your mouth. So Jayse did put up a fight. I’m glad.

Aemond remained silent, staring at you wide-eyed and now breathing rabidly. You feel at a loss, so you try again. This time, pressing your lips against his more harshly, you kiss him for a moment longer, before pulling away and cupping his face in your hands.

“Please, Aemond.”

Your voice was dripping with desperation, and the Prince could almost convince himself that you were begging for something else. It took significant will power to ground himself, and with a sigh, he untangled himself from you, and turned around, kneeling down to pick up the unconscious man.

“Your room is close. Leave. Have a bath. I have seen many dead men, he will be fine.”

You try to protest, adamant to go to the infirmary as well, to ensure that Jayse is treated, but the Prince quickly silences you with a harsh stare. He looked like he was about to drop the injured man, and the prospect terrified you.

In a low, warning tone, the Prince spoke.

“You promised.”

Feeling defeated, you turned and hastily leave. Before turning the corner, you glance back, and see the one-eyed Prince still watching you. All you could do now, was to trust him and hope he is being truthful. You turn, and head to your chambers, preparing yourself for a long, sleepless night.

I felt feral today and chose to neglect my responsibilities in order to draft this chapter. Hope you enjoyed! I make no promises about when the next chapter will be written, although it may be done before the season finale releases ;)

In case you also want to listen to the songs I had on repeat for the entire day today, here is my playlist for the fic! I have also posted this on AO3, incase you prefer that platform 

– Chapter 3

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Prince Daemon did not want children with Lady Rhea Royce, but the only thing resentment and anger create when mixed with wine is regret and problems to be ignored when they cannot suit a need. Unfortunately for him, problems cannot be ignored forever, and all three heads of the dragon he created will turn back to bite their father.

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Jorrāeliarzy

Being in Pentos was not entirely unlike the visits to King’s Landing from her youth. It was humid from the bay it sat upon, expansive and bustling with activity, loud; Pentos smelled better though. Perfumed bodies and hair, incense wafting from open windows and the table in the center of the balcony where they all sat; it was a far cry from the low tide and rotting fish carcasses and sewage that permeated the air on carriage rides up from the port in Westeros’s capital city.

The soft breeze ruffled their hair and the men’s kaftans and the skirts of Ella’s thin, deep green dress. She let out a dreamy sigh as she looked out over the water where Vermithor was a distant winged shape swooping over the Bay of Pentos. She lifted her chin from where it was propped on her crossed arms, and leaned back slightly from the railing of the balcony to grope at the side table between the low couch where she lounged with Shireen’s cousin and Yarwyck’s chair. She found the carved wooden box filled with honey fingers, only for her hand to meet the sticky, sodden cloth the cakes had been laid on to keep the interior of the container clean. Ella made a face, and turned back around to face the men as she sucked the honey from the tips of her fingers.

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[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Flesh and Blood

Part 1: The final jousts

Pairing: Prince Aemon the Dragonknight x Fem. Reader (Northerner /House Stark | Third Person POV)

Themes: Angst

Warnings: Mentions of prior sexual activity |Emotional neglect | References to canon Targcestuous marriages (Daena and Baelor) | The supposed “relationship” between Aemon and Naerys. 

Word count: 3.5k words

Summary: The marriage between the Dragonknight and his Stark wife was one of duty, despite his wife’s desire for something more. Things come to a head on the last day of the jousts.

Author’s notes: This is an AU version, but within the same timeline. In this story, Baelor is still king, but Aemon is not a member of the Kingsguard. This story takes place after Baelor is crowned king, sometime during 163 AC. Unfortunately I couldn’t find anything pertaining to the season during this time period, so I decided to go ahead and write all of this taking place during the height of summer.

Minors DNI

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

A maid held up the gown for her to see. "Tis a fine thing, m’lady," Melara carefully laid it on the bed. "Perfect for a Targaryen princess."

Y/n sighed. She was not a Targaryen princess. She was a daughter of the North and a Stark, no less. Hers were the colors of the harsh winters that ravaged the land and the direwolves that lived in the forests. She was the blood of the first men, and here, in Kings Landing, she felt like she did not belong.

Still, she could not deny that the dress was exquisite. It was one of several that had been made before she left the North for her wedding. A silky confection of deep crimson with hints of black was sewn onto a bronze collar that sat around her throat, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. A belt of bronze medallions was cinched at the waist. Y/n had risen just before dawn to bathe and fix her hair, as her attendance at the tourney was expected. She did not want to go. To go meant to see her new husband, Aemon Targaryen. He was a prince of the realm, a warrior dubbed the Dragonknight, and her husband for almost half a year. A pious man, he was a faithful husband and nothing more than that. As soon as he did his duty, he would leave for his own chambers without so much as a goodnight. During the day, he would spend his time sparring with the other knights. When he was not sparring, he was in the Sept, praying. On other occasions, he would be in his sister’s company. Y/n considered herself fortunate that her husband came to her at night.

Oh, he was gentle; she was willing to concede that. Aemon was gentle, but his embraces were brief and left her wanting. The one time she talked to him about it and told him it was not enough and that she yearned for more warmth, he looked at her like she had uttered the vilest thing ever.

"Warmth leads to desire, and then lust. And lust is sin," he said, his look so cold it chilled her to the bone. "Never ask such a thing of me, my lady. I will not agree to it."

Y/n did not broach the matter after that and had to be content with his occasional visits at night and his indifference in the morn. And it stung. Oh, how it stung. Being ignored stung. Having to play last fiddle to everything else in the prince’s life stung. Watching him run after his sister while she was left alone, stung. Y/n loathed that most of all, having to watch Aemon willingly seek out his sister’s company and never hers. Y/n was exposed to the pitying looks and gossip of those at court. A Stark wife who cannot satisfy her husband, they said. She is probably as cold as ice, they said. Unworthy for the Dragonknight, they said. She endured still, thinking that if she was a dutiful wife, then her husband was sure to find something about her that appealed to his heart.

"M’lady?" Melara brought out a selection of shoes for her to choose from. "Which ones?"

Y/n gave herself a quick shake of the head and chose. "The black ones," she said, pointing to a pair of doeskin slippers. The shoes were soft and comfortable. Even the headdress, one made by her mother’s hands no less, felt light. Made of stiffened leather and red damask, it sat over her braided and coiled hair like a halo. Black embroidery was its only adornment, but she was grateful for it. Others would come dressed in their finery, and y/n wanted to do the same. Today was the final day of the jousts, and she had to look her best. When a squire came to tell her the carriage was ready, y/n glanced at a silvered-looking glass, and approved of what she saw. She took the squire's hand and walked out.

Y/n looked around while she walked through lofty halls and incense-filled corridors. The Targaryen tapestries were all gone, as were the sculptures. No more Sphynxes. No more depictions of men and women cleaving to each other in various intimate ways. The skulls of long dead Targaryen dragons had been moved to unsused cellars, the candles lit in their honor snuffed out. Even the columns had not been spared. All scenes of Valyria, its conquests and victories, its gods and heroes, had been replaced by vines, flowers, and images of the Seven. Baelor, in his religious zeal, seemed determined to erase many parts of his family’s heritage, thinking they would all lead to sin. It made y/n ill. A king governed by fanatical piety was just as dangerous as an undisciplined king who was all too mercurial, greedy, and cruel.

At least Viserys has some influence over Baelor, unlike his son, she mused. But how long will it last?

It was a thought that kept her occupied until she was seated comfortably inside her carriage. Y/n looked out a window as it made its way through the winding streets of Kings Landing. The world was covered in a sunny haze when she peered through the sheer white curtains. There were plums, oranges, and peaches sold everywhere. Traders sold dried dragon peppers and olives from Dorne, and costly spices from the Summer Isles. The air was rich with the smell of flowers, perfume, and summer wine. In the distance, she watched a group of novice Septons walking single file, their faces concealed by black hoods. In another corner, mummers performed for a group of children while their parents watched over them. Most were hurrying toward the tourney grounds, and y/n could feel the excitement in the air. It was the day of the final tilts, with Aegon and Aemon among the remaining jousters.

There was even more cause for excitement. The queen and her sisters had been released from the Maidenvault. Baelor was told to do his duty or risk Aegon sitting on the Iron Throne. 

"Prince Viserys had painted the most frightful picture one night over supper," Melara had gossiped while helping her dress. "I hear the king went pale as milk after his uncle had finished speaking. Even the High Septon had agreed and urged the king to do his duty. Now the king has no choice but to close his eyes and think of Westeros. Prince Aegon flew into a black rage when they told him. His chambers are a ruined heap. He now has to sleep in his wife's bed. Gretchen said the prince and his wife are both miserable with their new sleeping arrangements."

Y/n tittered, half wishing she could have been there to witness it. She looked out again when the carriage lurched and stopped. They had reached the tourney grounds. There were silk pennants and flags and tents everywhere. She recognized many of the coats of arms, including the Sun and Spear of House Martel. It did not surprise her. The tourney was in honour of a peace treaty with Dorne, after all.

“The Dornish are finally here,” said the page who helped her out of the carraige. “And we have to be ready with the Gold Cloaks and an army of maesters, curse our luck.”

Y/n gave him a measured look. "It will not be that bad."

"That is what they all think," the page sighed, and led her to her seat. "Till some Dornishman loses his temper."

"Spoken like someone who has never traveled to the North." A smile broke across y/n’s face. She reached into a little silk purse hanging around her wrist and pulled out a few copper stars. "Go on. I can find my way from here."

The page eagerly pocketed the stars before flashing a gap-toothed grin and running off. Y/n looked around once more. The Dornish were everywhere, their linen robes distinguishing them from the others. The gold cloaks were everywhere, too. Amongst the crowd, near the lists, moving about the grounds. The Kingsguard was here, as were many guardsmen. Of knights, there were plenty, but only six had progressed to the final tilts.

"Y/n!" a familiar voice called out to her. "Cousin! Over here!"

Her smile grew wider. "Uther!" She went over to her cousin. "What time did you arrive in the city?"

Uther made room for her and grinned. "Last night. I would have called on you had I not had a terrible need for sleep."

"I received your mother’s letter." Y/n smoothed her skirt and sat by him. "Are you really going to take part in the melee?"

"I am." Uther flashed another grin, one that was known to charm even the most stubborn of maidens. At ten and nine, he stood well over six feet tall and towered over many. All lean muscle, Uther was dark-haired and darker-eyed, with skin that reminded her of the tawny stones that made up the city walls. "Mother disapproves. Father told me to do it. He thinks it might be good for me."

Y/n looked around the seats and realized with a start that very few Northerners were there. "Where are your mother and father? Are Lord and Lady Cerwyn here?"

"Father had to stay back to aid your grandfather. Visitors from Skagos." Uther helped himself to the refreshments being served to those in the royal box. He picked up a meat pie and bit into it. "Mother is here. She took the other children to the square to watch a firemage from Qarth. She will come on the morrow to watch the melee."

Y/n made herself comfortable. "And how are you, cousin?" Uther studied her with a critical eye. "How do you find life as the Dragonknight’s wife?"

"He is a good husband," Y/n said quickly enough. Despite his charm and easy smiles, Uther was quick to anger. She could already picture him charging up to Aemon and challenging him. "And life is wonderful here. I have no cause for complaint."

Uther seemed to accept her answer. A round of trumpets sounded, and the Master of Revelries stepped out into the middle of the field. He announced the arrival of the queen and her sisters. A hush fell over the entire gallery, and everyone rose as one. First came Queen Daena, then her sisters, according to their ages. The queen was garbed in black silks, her three-headed dragon pendant sitting prettily on a gold necklace. A tiara of Valyrian steel and a rare dragon’s eye opal, one the size of a robin’s egg, sat amidst silver-gold hair. Daena was just as beautiful as the singers said. Her younger sister, Rhaena, was just as lovely as her but had a timid look in her eye. The last to follow was Elaena. Her short hair gave her an austere beauty, but what caught y/n’s eye was the queen. Daena was escorted to her seat by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and she smiled up at him. Her smile never reached her eyes. They smoldered with resentment instead.  

She is angry about being confined to the Maidenvault. They all are. Y/n stood with the rest and only sat back down after the queen and her sisters did so. The Lord Commander made his excuses, as he had to equip himself for the lists. After staying away for most of the tourney, Naerys came at last. A frail-looking thing, she made her way to the other end of the royal box and kept to herself. When The Master of Revelries came forward again, it was to announce the knights that would be jousting for the last time. They all rode past the royal box first out of respect for the queen.

First came Lord Commander Hardyng, a giant of a man known to all as "Longshanks." An enameled pin of red and white diamonds added a dash of color against the chilly white of his armor. Next came a hedge knight from the Reach, Jasper of Tumbleton. Then came two knights of the Vale. All of them then turned their attention to the final two contenders. 

Aegon and Aemon Targaryen. Brothers by blood, yet so different from each other. One was disciplined and pious. The other was given to wanton excess, and it showed. Aegon’s handsome looks were slowly fading away. Dark circles had already formed under his eyes. A beard hid the beginnings of a double chin. Still, he had not lost touch with the lance and could still defeat his brother. Wagers had already started. One lord promised a hundred gold dragons if Aegon emerged the victor. A lady threw in her gold and sapphire ring, saying Aemon would win. Another lord, a Dornishman this time, backed Aemon as well and promised his own horse, one of the fabled sand steeds of Dorne. Trumpets sounded again, and all talk ceased. The final tilts were about to commence.

Y/n watched it all unfold before her. Horses tore up the earth as they rode down the lists. Ser Jasper surprised everyone by easily unhorsing Lord Hardyng, hitting him with such force that he fell to the ground with a clangor. When the dust cleared, shocked silence turned into sighs of relief when Lord Hardyng rose to his feet, shaken but unharmed. Relief quickly turned into laughter. Hardyng could not remove his helm, which was now a twisted ruin.

"At least it is just his helm that is a ruin," Uther mumbled when a page ran over to escort the Lord Commander to a smith. "And not his face."

Y/n agreed but applauded Ser Jasper’s victory all the same. The tilts continued. Horses rode down the lists, and lances met steel, only to shatter into tiny pieces. It continued until only four contenders remained: a knight of the Vale, Ser Jasper, Aegon Targaryen, and his brother, Aemon. When the Master of Revelries announced the brothers would ride against each other, everyone watched with bated breath. This was the match they were all waiting for.

Both princes took their positions. Their horses pawed at the earth, and their lances were at the ready. When the trumpets sounded, the entire gallery went silent again. Both rode brilliantly, matching each other blow for blow and edging towards a draw. Aemon proved to be the better jouster, unhorsing his brother and earning himself a hard-won victory. Aegon kicked at the dirt and let out a round of choice epithets. His wife, a daughter of Lord Tyrell, winced. The gallery erupted into roars and cheers. Several people grew a little richer from their wagers, while others grew a little poorer. Aemon rode towards the box, and the y/n fished around her purse for the ribbon to be given as a favor. The tourney had gone on for two days already, and Aemon never asked for her favour. Today was going to be it.

Except, Aemon never asked her. He rode towards the far end of the box, straight to his sister, seemingly ignorant of the stunned looks he received. Y/n felt someone reach over and take her hand, squeezing it gently. It was her cousin. The queen and her sisters turned back to look at her when a lady whispered something to them. There was pity in their eyes. She did not want it. She did not want their sympathy either. She heard the hushed whispers and saw the smirks. Her eyes started to sting.

 Aemon never cared for her, not in the slightest. Her marriage would never amount to anything but a match of political convenience. It was plain as day now. There would be no warmth, no affection. Only duty, a cold bed, and a husband that did not want her. The whispers grew louder. She had to leave, lest her tears come unbidden. "I cannot stay here," she said far too softly.

Uther did not say a word. He rose and took her hand, shooting icy glares at anyone who dared look at her. Y/n fought to keep her composure. She held her head high, even as the tears threatened to fall. Y/n barely felt Uther's hand around her arm, keeping her steady whenever she nearly stumbled more than once in her haste to leave. Someone called out to her. She turned a deaf ear to it and continued walking, not stopping until she felt soil and grass beneath her feet.

Uther called out to her coachman. "Do you want to return to the Red Keep?" he asked. "Or would you like to come with me and stay with us? Our house is outside the city, by the beach."

Outside the city. Away from everyone. A chance away from him, if only for a moment. Y/n took the offer with eager hands. "Take me to your home. Please."

Someone called out to her again. Y/n recognized who it was. Uther did so too. "Keep walking," he urged. "The carriage is not that far away."

Y/n picked up her feet when she heard her name being called out repeatedly. Then came the order. "Stop! Stop in the name of the crown!"

"Damn it," she muttered. Uther let go of her arm and reached for his sword. "No," she said. "Attacking a prince of the realm is treason. Stay your hand."

Uther muttered under his breath but heeded her words. He stood close to his cousin, his lips curling in distaste when Aemon drew near. 

"Leaving so soon?" Aemon walked up to them both and stopped. He was still in his armor, his helm in the crook of one arm. Y/n studied her husband. He was tall. Not as tall as her cousin, but tall all the same. And so handsome. Aemon was what every maiden fantasized about in a knight and a prince of the realm. Today his silver-gold hair hair had been pulled into a single braid. His eyes gleamed like amethysts in the sunlight. "May I ask why?"

"My presence was clearly not wanted." Y/n straightened her spine and looked her husband in the eye. "You made it plain to everyone in there."

Aemon looked shocked. "What?"

"I have been coming to the tourney for two days and not once did you ever ask for my favour. Today you finally do. Only you ask for your sister's favor instead of mine." Y/n spat, anger rippling through her. She had taken on the faith of the Seven and allowed herself to be anointed by the seven oils to please him. She went to the Sept and prayed to his gods, forsaking the gods of her own people to please him. She tried speaking like a Southron lady and acting the way they did, thinking it would grab his attention. It was not enough. Nothing she did was enough. "Why would you do that, except to show everyone in the city that you want her and not me?" 

Aemon did not reply. He looked unsure of what to do or even say. And y/n was not finished. She silently endured it all for half a year, thinking everything would change and her patience would be rewarded. A few moments ago, it became clear that nothing would change. There would be no happy outcome for her, no reward, and she was done keeping silent.  

"And for all your talk of desire leading to lust and sin," She remembered what he said—that first and only time she asked for something more. "Well, you certainly fooled me. You do feel desire, only it is not for me."

"My lady," Aemon reached for her, his entire countenance softening. "You misconstrue my actions. There is nothing untoward between Naerys and myself. I…"

"You flee my presence the moment you have done your duty, like you cannot wait to get away from me." Her words came out in a tumble, but y/n did not care. She had to get it all out while she still had the chance. "During the day, you barely acknowledge me. You always seek Naery’s company while I have to make myself content for those few brief hours you come to me at night. I keep asking myself what it is about me that offends you so. So far, I have found no answer. There are times when I might spend an hour or even more in front of a looking glass, trying to find the corruption that you see, but up to now, I have found nothing. Perhaps you could show me instead?"

A hand—large and warm and callused by years of wielding a sword—reached up and cupped her cheek. Y/n sighed. How long she had ached for her husband to touch her like that, she could not say.

"My lady," Aemon inched closer. His voice was barely above a whisper. "I swear upon the Seven, there is nothing between Naerys and myself. I swear it." Y/n lifted her eyes. Her husband looked deeply troubled. She did not know what to make of it. "As for the other charges you have laid at my door… I… come with me. Come back to the Red Keep with me. We can talk about this."

"No," y/n pulled away from him, not wanting to hear another word of what he said. She had to get away from him before falling apart completely. People were starting to wander about, and y/n did not wish to subject herself to even more humiliation. "I do not want to talk to you, or even see you. Leave me be."

"My lady…" Aemond reached for her again. Uther was quick to stop him.

"Your lady said no." He helped y/n into the carriage first and got in after her. "Good fortune with the rest of the day, my prince." Uther shut the carriage door and gave directions to the coachman.

When the carriage started moving, y/n began to weep. Everything hurt. It hurt to even breathe. She rocked back and forth, her tears coursing down her cheeks unchecked. Uther held her, not knowing how else to comfort her. She wept angrily and bitterly. She wept over shattered dreams and crushed hopes. She wept until her body exhausted itself and went limp. When her cousin looked over, he found she had cried herself to sleep. 

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Cinderella

"Illustration draw my me"

---- Masterlist ---- Rules for request ----

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x chubby Fem reader

Abstract: A young woman from an archipelago allied to Westeros, did not think that fairy accounts exist or even suspected the charm of a prince.

Author’s note: the release of this One-shot took time because I had to finish the illustration first, I want to thank @avalyaaa who very kindly, saw the sketches for the illustration and encourage.

Trigger Warning : English is not my mother tongue.

 

---

 

The kingdom of Y/k/n was located in the west of Westeros, beyond the sea, an island archipelago formed the kingdom, this one was prosperous for several centuries, this prosperity, came from fertile agriculture, from the extraction of ore in long seams in the mines.

The people respected their rulers, for they managed to keep peace with the other kingdoms. Exchanges of food, materials were customary, several lords of Westeros, had united some of their children girl or boy, with merchants or nobles of the kingdom of Y/k/n, perpetuating the peace agreements, hard won.

During the conquest of Westeros, the king of the time allowed people to take refuge from the conquest of Aegon the conqueror. Let it be nobles to peasants. At a time when circular rumours about the possibility of a future war against the monarch Targaryen, the king who although loyal to his kingdom, signed a non-aggression pact between the two kingdoms, he did not want his people to perish in bloodshed and fire. The archipelago retained its sovereignty, remaining an independent kingdom but ally of Westeros. However no marital union was declared, dragons were not allowed to fly around the archipelago, defences made up of various weapons some were throwing heavy projectiles into the sky were a reason alone.

As the centuries passed, peace endured, exchanges continued, the shadows of dragons roamed the sky in the distance, children’s dreaming of theim.

King after king, the people listened and followed their monarchs, looking in the distance at the castle, built on the largest island of the archipelago, its white stones were embedded in the mountain and reflected the light of the sun.

In this castle lived, king Y/f/n was a fair man and concerned about the people, he tried to keep a cordial understanding with Westeros, meaning that his people did not pay the price.

This king was a widower, from his first wife he had with his wife a daughter, whom they named y/n. Although he was a good father, he thought that the love of a mother was indispensable to the happiness of his daughter. He chose a noble woman born on the archipelago, she was recently widowed, and already mother of two daughters, Karoline and Melina, who was the same age as Y/n.

If this second marriage went smoothly, the people happy to have a new queen, it was only at the premature death of the king, that the true nature of his second wife revealed.

She was a cold, calculating and cruel woman, madly jealous of the kindness and attention that Y/n drew around her, the people worshipping their princess and future heiress, but above all she was determined to put the interests of her two female manipulators daughter first.

Over the years, the castle fell into ruins, the new queen regent had nothing to do with the castle, the money of the royal family was squandered to satisfy the whims of the two girls, whether in expensive dresses, fruit to carry from Essos, boat trips to Westeros to try to get them married to a noble house. Y/n deceiving and humiliating at a young age was relegated to the role of servant in her own kingdom. The people no longer heard of her, the queen having declared that their princess was sick and could present herself before them, only vile lies on her part. The last raven from the Targaryen came to leave a message of condolence and then no more news. In spite of this Y/n remained gentle and kind. Knowing that one day the truth would come out, that the world could not be gray and gloomy. She kept the secret hope that her dreams would come true and that her family’s honor would rise from the ashes.

---

The stones once covered with frescoes, were not renewed, leaving the walls to suffer the weather and become gray again. Most of the windows overlooking the kingdom, had their heavy curtains pull, preventing the light. Only one window had no curtain, it was the highest window of the castle, one of the towers of the keep. The light slowly entered the doorway of the window, lighting a small room, advancing minutes after minutes towards a sleeping young woman. The open window allowed the singing of the birds to echo, gently awakening the young woman.

She opened one eye gently, looking around her, and breathed a sigh, reminiscent of the dream she had just had. It stretched out with a few movements, while rising, looking at the window, observing the sky of a clear blue, where no clouds were visible.

“A beautiful day is coming,” she thought.

The young woman put her feet on the ground, slowly remembering the tasks of her day. The room which was the bedroom of the young woman was the smallest room of the castle, made of brick wall covered with white paint yellowed by time, of a floor of oak wood, which was lightened by the sun. From a single window open to the outside of the castle. In one corner of the room was a bed that took up much of the space, a small bedside table where a candle was placed, a closet that looked more like a broom closet closed by a wooden door, on a small shelf, there were two frames in which portraits of her parents were placed. On the other side of her room, there was a screen of his favorite color inherited from her mother. A copper soup bowl that served to hold the water for his morning bath and a boudoir.

At the first blow of bells, she began to prepare herself, quickly spanking her toilet before dressing up and hanging her apron around her neck and her plump hips. The young woman looked in the mirror to make sure that her outfit was properly fitted, she could see her hair y/h/c stylized in a way that her hair would not interfere with her future tasks. Her dress in earth tones, was well placed, the strict cut did not allow the birth of a possible neckline, this outfit was made only for work and nothing else. It changed a lot of the dresses the young woman wore as a child. This young woman remembered pretty dress in Y/f/c color, where beads and small stones were embroidered, but remembering seemed very distant. Just like the memories of her parents before her mother-in-law arrived. The life of a princess no longer existed.

---

Y/n went down the many steps that made up the stairs of the tower, passing through several rangers of stairs, corridors and the inner courtyard of the castle, going towards a dark wooden door and worn out by time, taking it towards the sub-floors where kitchens were installed.

In the kitchens, the few servants always at the service of Madame and her daughters, set to work. All had known Y/n’s father and supported the young woman, knowing that the situation was complicated and their uprisings would have led to more trouble for Y/N.

It was with a smile that the young woman arrived, she greeted the servants present, wishing them a good day, before preparing the morning meal of the animals who lived in the enclosure of the castle, including the preparation of the grain for poultry, hay for cows and horses, taking time to fill the dishes of stray dogs and cats passing through the castle, but who were each time hunted by her mother-in-law, the said woman loved very little, and pets were not a part of it.

The servants had orders never to help Y/n in her chores, whatever the difficulty, because Madame was watching over the grain and had ensured a great punishment. The few who rebelled in the early years had ended up whipping blood, others were locked in the castle dungeon. The servants present watched Y/n place the food bowls in a large wicker basket, taking it with one arm and catching a large, heavy bag of grain on her opposite shoulder, the servants, every day had to see the young woman although robust bend under the weight of successive sacks, bales of hay and mockery of the people who were to be her family.

One of the remorseful servants began to heat the water for the tea of the dreadful mother and daughters sleeping upstairs. Screams call the young woman, was about to begin.

When Y/n entered the kitchen, she saw that all she had to do was pour the hot water and take the hot buns freshly bought by one of the servants in the city. She silently thanked her friends, and began to finish the preparations, not noticing a cat hanging around the silver cups filled with tea, as the whisper-like cries began to reason in the empty and dusty halls of the castle, distracting her.

---

Y/n crossed the kitchens, exited into the inner courtyard, to climb endless stairs and walk through many corridors, the trays place on his arms.

Melina preferred not to be awakened before her servant arrived to dress her, so her tray was left at the entrance of her room. Karoline, wanted to leave her tray in her room, her hot tea, while she took her morning bath. As for Madame, she wanted Y/n to put her tray in her room on the desk where she had to leave scrolls devoured by moths.

Everything was in the best of worlds, all seemed satisfied with the service.

It was without counting, a shrill cry, which made the windows tremble, slightly out of their hinges.

“Oh no…”

Heart pounding, hoping to have imagined having heard this cry, Y/n did not move from the stairs. Her hands trembled, her breathing accelerated, a fear she knew all too well, swelling in her belly.

She saw Madame’s daughters running near, from the corridors of their apartments, one of them half dressed, her servant running to destroy her, holding the ties of her dress. The second arrived barefoot, lifting her dress to her knees not to trip over the bottom of her dress. Their eyes crossed Y/n’s eyes, silently accusing without knowing the reason for the screaming, the young woman. They plunged into their mother’s chambers, worried about their mother’s cry. The ears of Y/n whistled, she felt that a punishment would fly against her.

"Y/N! Come here now!"

She felt her feet moving without even having the desire to advance, going up the steps as slowly as possible, walking the few steps that separated her from the dark room of her mother-in-law.

To say that Madame’s room was dark was an understatement, no light entered except the light of the hallway, hiding at the bottom of her bed, only the reflection of the light in the old woman’s eyes showed her presence in the room. The daughters were sent out, and although they were not satisfied, she did what their mothers ordered, for even they feared the matriarch.

“You started to hide things.”

“Madame, I don’t know what's...”

“Silence! You know exactly what you did.”

“I don’t know, I swear, I made your tea like every day…”

"Enough! I know you’re lying, you never loved me, you want revenge. I understand, but I’m the only family you have left, understand the good. Without me you have nothing!”

“Yes Madame…”

“To punish you, you will be deprived of food, let it be a lesson, and maybe it will help you lose weight.” said Madame with a smirk.

With her heart hurting, Y/n had to bow slightly to her mother-in-law, as she had violently taught her, at least this time, the punishment was not directly physical.

The day must have been beautiful, quite the contrary.

---

Y/n climbed the water from the well of the great court, when she saw a Herault, wearing a black tunic, on which was placed a armor, pass the guards and the great door that separated the castle from the people.

Surprised she looked at the man walking towards the great gate of the castle, knowing that she was not to interfere at all with Madame’s business, she filled a bucket of water, and left with it in the direction of the large basin where the washers washed the linen.

The song of the birds, like sweet music, reasoned in the gardens on this sweet spring afternoon. Although the archipelago was in temperate waters and the sun was mild. It was always more pleasant to wash the laundry in a warm water by the heat of the sun, than under the cold wind in the late afternoon, where the water is so cold that at the end of the chore, the fingers were so cold, that they became numb.

The washers were squatting around the basin, dirty laundry was placed in large wooden basins, a smell of plants, flowers and soap emanated from the water, many of the women sang songs that had been passed on to them by their parents or other servants. Others talked about their other chores, or the actions of Madame and her daughters.

Y/n placed her water seal next to the eldest of the washers, the old woman’s back was bent under the weight of years and arthritis, preventing her from lifting too heavy objects. She stayed a few minutes with them, participating in the conversations more or less silently.

It was only at her call that Y/n stopped talking.

"Princess! Princess!"

It was Foulques, the old maester who had seen her grow up.

“We received a herald from Westeros. The Targaryen seal the scroll. It’s for your family.”

Foulques, put with his trembling hands, wrinkled skin and moles appear, the parchment in the hands of Y/n.

Y/n looked at the parchment with hesitation, although she wanted to read what was written on it, it had worked for a long time since the last message.

"Have you told Madame?"

Several washerwomen spit on the ground to mention the dreadful woman.

“No princess, it makes more sense to me that it should come back to you.”

“You’re well aware of what would happen if she found out?”

“Yes, but if someone could help you in your situation, they would definitely be the most powerful family in Westeros.”

Her desire to read the parchment was powerful, but her fear of Madame’s blows was much more powerful. It was against her heart that she had to convince the maester to warn her mother-in-law, finding as a compromise that she followed him in the throne room.

---

Y/n followed the maester in the direction of the great throne room where Madame was, the great room was originally decorated with gold and jewels, large tapestries telling the royal story, while celebrating the ingenious talant of the guilds of the archipelago. Madame dressed in a long black dress, from the collar up to below her chin, sat on the throne, dictating orders to servants, in a room now covered with spider’s web on the high ceilings, where the tapestries were torn off and the walls crumbled.

“Madame, a messenger from Westeros just dropped off a scroll.”

"Give me this!"

Madam, raised her left arm in the direction of the young woman, making gestures of the hand to encourage Y/n to approach. The parchment was plucked from her hands, when she was reachable, the daughters of Madame, who were present at their mother’s side, approached her, also wanting to read the parchment.

"Listen! The king and queen of Westeros, decreed the preparation of a great ball! All the young women of good families are invited. This ball is being announced for Prince Aemond Targaryen to find a bride.”

"Oh that’s fantastic!" said one of the first girls.

"I would be a real princess," said the second, beginning to dance clumsily.

“That means I can participate,” says Y/n.

“What do you mean? With rags? You saw how fat you are, I’m sure the prince won’t even notice you.” Both girls were annoyed.

“After all, I am of this family. You said it yourself. I am of noble birth. I am also a guest.” Y/n no longer paid attention to the mockery of her sisters-in-law. Look into the eyes of her mother-in-law, with her head held high.

"Enough! You can come." Madame had spoken, her daughters were beginning to contradict her. “As long as you finish all your chores before we head to King’s Landing.”

"Thank you Madame."

It is joyful that Y/n left the room, setting off in the direction of the tasks assigned to her, not paying attention to Madame’s smirk.

---

The trunks were prepared, the carriage repaired and cleaned. Y/n stood by her little trunk made of wood and leather, she was of medium size, lying down she reached her knees. The trunks of her in-laws took up much more space, the girls each had two large trunks only for their dresses, not to mention the smallest for the underwear, stockings, shoes and accessories. Her mother-in-law took only a large trunk where her belongings could return without difficulty.

The trunks were attached to the carriage, failing to fall more than once on the way from the castle to the port.

The windows of the carriage were obstructed, Y/n sitting opposite her from her in-laws, had to restrain herself from moving the small curtain from the window to her left, it now did what seemed to her an eternity that she had not seen the streets of the city and its inhabitants, she wondered how the children she played with as a child had become, whether they were married, had children, whether they still lived on this island. But though the desire to know all this burned within her. The cold, calculating look of her mother-in-law gave her chills, she watched.

Y/n including directly what was hidden in the eyes of the people, going up into the boat by a bridge away from the eyes, she had to sleep near the goods, away from the eyes of the passengers. Although she was sad about the fate reserved for her, an anger was born in her, more and more noisy, screaming that she had to free herself. But each time, she convinced herself that it was not the right time, once she arrived on Westeros, she could think about it.

The vessel was making the longest voyage, Madame having ordered the captain to dock directly at the port of King’s Landing, wanting a grand arrival for her legitimate daughters. From two days of sailing and a week to travel Westeros in a straight line, it lengthened by one more week, skirting the coasts of Dornes, deviating from the path, classic to avoid corals and bottom too low to sail in peace, fortunately avoiding very frequent storms along the way and having a very favorable wind to the chosen path.

---

The grand entrance if desired was unfortunately for them, foil by a natural element. Rain.

The voluminous robes of the sisters-in-law were waterlogged, preventing them from walking without tripping because of their weight. Madame fulmina, the few people present of several mestres began to mock her daughters. Seen from the corner of the eye, Y/n go discreetly in the direction of the coach charter to bring them to their Inn.

Oh yes an Inn and not apartments in the Red Keep, the delay taken by the change of route made them arrive last. Relegating them to the same level of noble houses and poorer than others.

---

The inn was dark, but welcoming, much more than the corridors of the archipelago’s castle, less dusty, there were more candles to light the place despite the lack of windows.

Madame asked for the most remote room for Y/n, asking in a dry tone of voice, that no one be in contact with her, forbidding her any visit of the city, even accompanied.

The room of Y/n was for what we can say spartan, a bed with mattress made of straw, a small window turn towards the castle, walls of torchis crack a wardrobe to the door brinquebalante and to fill it all, a very strong smell of enclose. The place seemed more like a prison than a room.

---

The first few days, Y/n keep, day and night, the small window open to help her get rid of the ambient smell, she dared not remove her clothes from her trunk, prefer to leave them in safety, taking only when appropriate clothes.

From her window, she could see at times dragons flying around the castle, from one huge, much larger than the others, that she wondered how it had reached such a size, was it due to its food? Imagining the quantities of meat she had chills in the back, an army would not have been enough to feed the beast.

The day of the ball was approaching, as was her nervousness. Was she going to live up to the event? Could she participate without an intervention of her mother-in-law? How was the prince? She had no idea, but kept the hope that for one night she could be who she was, a princess and not a servant.

---

At sunset, on the night of the ball, Madame had allowed Y/n to leave her room, but had not allowed anyone, to the point of paying the employees, to help the young woman prepare. But his attempts to prevent a young woman from participating in the ball were null.

As Y/n walked down the stairs, she realized that her plans were being undermined.

The young woman, even without help, had managed to put on her dress. It was Y/f/c, the latest fashion in the archipelago. A soft neckline underlined the young woman’s chest. Her make-up was light due to lack of materials and her desire not to resemble her sisters-in-law’s one-layer make-up reminded her of the gesso layers used for paints.

Her sisters-in-law were furious, for although the young woman was rounder than they were, a sweet aura emanated from her, an elegance they could not achieve. Both began to complain when their mother approached Y/n.

“Beautiful, it’s true, this color suits you.”

Madame walked around Y/n watching her with disdain from head to toe.

“Well, let’s go.”

A weight on the shoulders of Y/n withdrew when she left the inn. The biggest had just passed, she had no longer crossed her fingers for the journey to go awkward.

This was without counting on her sisters-in-law.

All four had to walk in the alley where the inn was to take the carriage in the main street, other coaches were placed in the alley, but had blocked each other, as it was narrow, If the one at the entrance didn’t move, neither did the others.

The day before, the rain had once again fallen on King’s Landing, The cobblestones were wet on both sides of the road, large puddles of water and parchment mud parched the alley.

Melina and Karoline complained about the humidity, explaining to their mother that their dresses would be destroyed by the mud.

“You don’t have to walk on the pavement, you’re not commoners, the mud isn’t for you.”

Her two daughters looked at each other for a few seconds before turning in the direction of Y/n. The young woman did not pay attention to her in-laws, preferring to observe the city, the people she met, smiling at the children.

All of a sudden, Y/n felt hands resting on her back, pushing her forward, she tried to catch up but the slippery pavement made her trip, in a fragment of a second, she found herself lying face down in the mud. Her ears were buzzing, her heart pounding, she thought her blood was freezing. Trying to get up, she felt a small pain in her hands, they were scratched due to the fall. Two laughs were quickly heard, which was the only laughter she heard.

"Oh, poor Y/N, you are relegated to your rank," said Melina in a mean voice.

Y/n got up with difficulty, the bottom of her dress was torn during her fall, mud covered her face and her clothes deformed by the weight of water and mud. Her hands were shaking, her breathing rampaging.

“You’re not going to go with us looking like a sow, go back to the inn, we’ll discuss this when we get back.”

Madame with a mischievous smile began to walk in the direction of the carriage, her daughters following her closely. A few passers-by approached Y/n wanting to know if she had hurt herself in her fall. But all that Y/n could do with the feeling of betrayal was to flee. Her steps carried her to the sandstone of the wind. Passing through different streets, small and large, taking her to one of the gates of the city walls, she passed it, not paying attention where she was resting only well away from the ramparts.

If anyone could have said the place was dangerous, Y/n would not have listened to them as she was devastated.

---

Y/n collapsed on the ground covered with dead leaf, breathless and exhausted.

As the sun set, she paid no attention to the animals present, nor to the sounds they made.

“Honey, it’s gonna be okay.”

Y/n raised his frightened head and looked, the woman standing in front of her, this woman wore thin wings almost transparent in the back, a long hooded dress of a blue king, which hid her white hair for the most part.

"Who are you?"

The old woman kept a warm smile on her lips.

"A fairy?"

"Ah? Dragons can exist and not fairies?"

“Oh forgive me…”

“Don’t worry, I know this is new to you.”

The fairy asked her why she was in such that state, as the story progressed, the fairy, gnashed her teeth. The young woman might have believed that flames appeared in the woman’s eyes.

“We’re not going to let them win! I’m going to let you go to the ball.”

“I don’t want to go anymore… What’s the point?”

“Oh dear child, there’s so much more you can imagine there.”

The fairy godmother began to look around her, seeming to be looking for something. The fairy began to think several minutes before raising her right hand in the air.

“What do we need… Oh yes I know! A carriage!”

Suddenly, roots began to grow and move towards the fairy, taking with them pieces of wood, iron and plants. Under the fairy’s enchantment, the pieces of wood and metal began to fly, gathering, a carriage beginning to form before her eyes, the plants were used to plug the places that were not comparing wood and metal, slowly solidifying, forming vegetal forms accentuating the basic structure before the eyes of the young woman, adorning herself with the coats of arms of her family, wearing colors and gilding. At the same time, squirrels began to fly, gradually turning into four dashing horses. A fox began to fly in the direction of the carriage, its hairs began to change shapes and color, the animal gradually transformed into a man wearing a tunic with Y/k/n coats of arms, he became the coachman. A last animal, a greyhound also began to fly away, grow, and the hairs transformed into a human in the same outfit as the fox, he became footman.

Y/n was blown away, she thought she had gone crazy or fell asleep, dreaming everything that was happening. Although she thanked the fairy, she was still not sure if she wanted to go to the ball. Or even if she could trust that person. The fairy noticed the young woman’s outfit, it is ruminant that she transformed the clothes of Y/n, these transformed into an elegant dress Y/f/c, with advantageous neckline without being provocative, it was not typical of the archipelago.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfect for this event.”

Y/n looked at her feet when she felt light tingling at her feet. She saw beautiful glass shoes, pure sapphire blue

The young woman had learned many years rather than that everything had a price, and all this, had to be of a gigantic cost.

"I... I cannot accept all this. I don’t know if you are really a fairy and not a witch in disguise. Everything at a price, and I’m afraid it will be more than I can offer.”

"You are destined to be taller than a mere servant, and you know this very well in the depths of your being. You’ll understand later, now go to the Red Keep, your destiny awaits you.”

The fairy gently took Y/n’s arm helping her to get into the carriage. Closing the door, she spoke again.

“But be careful, because at the twelfth bell, ringing midnight, the spell will be broken.”

Y/n looked at the woman, understanding that this was to be part of the price to be paid, and kept the warning in mind, she wanted to ask questions but was stopped, the carriage starting to set out at the time the missing fairy.

---

At King’s Landing, the ball festivities were in full swing. Street shows were held, a parade of young women also animated the life of the city. One after the other, they were heading towards the Red Keep. Day after day, the number of girls did not decrease.

Alicent was beginning to lose patience, his second son had to find a wife from whom the family had armed forces in sufficiency, and from power on Westeros could tip the advantage for his children, in case of open conflict with Rhaenyra. Otto was placed next to his daughter and told her that the best solution would have been to choose an arranged marriage rather than letting the prince choose.

For several hours the noblest young women had presented themselves to the prince, but Aemond had little interest in it, feeling his boredom rise in him. Alicent was getting more and more annoyed, the incessant words of her father did not help her.

On the announcement of young women arriving from a country allied to Westeros, Alicent looked, seeing two young women, at the makeup more than outrageous. Aemond’s only valid eye was more than frustrated.

“Lady Karoline and Meline de (name of their mother), adopted daughters of the deceased king of the kingdom of Y/k/n.”

Otto hearing the name of the kingdom and seeing the young women told himself that they looked nothing like the girl she met a long time ago on a trip to strengthen connections with the Y/h/n family.

While Alicent sighed more than hopeless about the situation, Otto began to speak to her.

"What did you think? Having a prince of Targaryen blood as an ally would bring many people. And then do you think that at the corner of a corridor, a young woman would arrive and attract Aemond’s gaze?"

Alicent looked in the direction of his son, seeing him walking towards the big door, pushing the two dreadful young women on his way, spanking them with screaming voices. Intrigued, she stared at her son, avoiding looking away at the arrival of an alcoholic Aegon.

Aemond, on his side, had seen a round young woman who seemed more beautiful than any jewel of Westeros, arriving. She was about her age. She seemed lost and alone in the castle, something in her attracted him and he did not understand what was, he must have known.

Alicent saw her son approach and finally land a young woman, and ordered the guards to prevent anyone from disturbing the prince.

“Oh, this is getting interesting.”

“Aegon. Don’t bother your brother.”

“He has so much to learn.”

“Listen to your mother.”

Otto looked at Aegon, knowing that arriving at a certain number of jugs of wine, he could become a pleasure for his brother. A maester discreetly entered the great hall, heading towards Queen Alicent. The maester explained that the king had asked for it, she asked Otto to take care of everything. Let nothing happen to the prince and the young woman.

---

It was with a mutual charm that the two young men began to approach, the fact that Aemond was one-eyed did not put off Y/n. Oh no, an almost bewitching charm took away the young man who had accosted him. It is almost hypnotized, that both began to discuss, forgetting both being of royal birth, the musicians present began to play their music, taking with her, the guests, Aemond, extended his hand towards the young woman, Although he did not like the idea of dancing, his mother the queen had told him enough, that certain protocol had to be respected, the dance was part of it. Y/n saw the outstretched hand of the young man with the long silver hair, the heart palpitating and a feeling of warmth rising in her, Y/n accepted, secretly hoping not to have forgotten the dance lessons she had when her father was still alive.

---

When the young couple moved through the castle to the gardens, then outside the castle enclosure, skirting the niche of Vhaegar, the guards remained close, not too close to avoid disturbing them but enough to prevent anyone from bothering them.

Vhagar, on her side, watched her master walk alongside a young woman, first of all awakening to the slightest risk that could happen, and she realized, seeing the gestures of the two persons, that nothing was going to happen to Aemond, She had seen it many generations before.

The stars illuminated the sky, giving a heavenly atmosphere to the evening.

---

It was without realizing that the first sounds of bells began to ring. If the first two Y/n did not pay attention, she began to panic.

“Oh… I can’t stay…”

"But why?"

“The prince…I didn’t see the prince.”

“So you don’t know…”

Other bells resounded in the city. Y/n started running towards his carriage, shoving the guards in places, narrowly avoiding getting caught by Otto who, just a moment seemed to recognize the young woman.

Running down the stairs, avoiding falling, she lost one of her glass shoes, but time was running out and the guards and the king’s hand would chase after her.

Y/n barely got into her carriage when a guard was about to grab her by an arm.

All the horsemen brought by Otto chased the carriage in the colors Y/h/c. All saw the rear that it the bells sounded the closing of all the doors of the city walls. When Otto saw the doors closed and realized that the young woman had no way to escape, but was stunned, as she was turning through one of the streets taken by the carriage, there was nothing left but wooden planks, plants and metal, lay on the ground, walking down the street, he didn’t see a living soul.

---

Y/n did not know how she did to be back in her room of the inn, when she woke up, her dress had disappeared, she first believed in a dream, but when she placed her feet on the ground, she felt that one of her feet was wearing a shoe, a blue sapphire shoe. Realizing that the night had indeed taken place and that she had indeed met her beautiful stranger, hiding the shoe, she heard her sisters-in-law arrive, their nauseating mockery, audible through the door.

"So how’s spending your night alone here?"

“Calm… Did you meet the prince?”

«Of course what do you think» Karoline was bitten alive, always humiliating the treatment received by the prince.

“He spent most of the night wooing us.”

Y/n could recognize the lie in the voices of her sisters-in-law, she could not ask them any more questions, Madame went up the screaming stairs.

“My children! I have a great announcement for you!”

The three young women turned in the direction of the door which opened with a bang, Madame entered, her hair ruffled gave her a look of a person not virtuous.

“A castle announcement has been made! The King has decreed that all the young women of King’s Landing go to the castle. They are looking for the young woman who took the prince’s heart. “ She glanced at his daughters. “Get ready, be presentable, we’ll leave as soon as possible.”

Y/n the throbbing heart did not believe his ears, the prince was looking for a young woman, maybe she could find her stranger in the castle. Lost in her thoughts, she heard that at the last moment the door closed in a cloud of dust.

“I will release you once one of my daughters has married the prince.”

Y/n approached the door, grabbing the clink wanting to open the door but encountering only resistance, the young woman began to scream and beat at the door. Asking to be released. But no answer.

At the entrance of the inn Madame”paid the employees, to keep her locked up, ordering them not to let anyone help Y/n.

---

In the castle, the servants and knights walked the corridors quickly, all the young women came one after the other, since the announcement, whether it was from the commoner to the young noble woman.

The king was not present in the throne room, the shoe was placed on a cushion in the colors of the Targaryen, in the center of the room, Aemond was standing surrounded by Aegon, Helaena, Alicent and Otto. He could recognize the young woman he was sure of, but the shoe test only confirmed more officially the refusal of the prince.

Otto Hightower, who thought again and again how the young woman could disappear, raised his eyes in the direction of the great door and was greeted by the most disastrous vision he could see. An old sour woman and two young women who unfortunately would be more likely to find love with the local blacksmith than with Prince Aemond.

“The King decreed that all young women to be married should try the glass shoe, in case the shoe is in the right size, the Prince will marry the young woman, which will make her Princess Targaryen.”

These words were repeated to every young woman.

It was with a sigh that the royal family saw, the young women began to fight to proclaim that the shoe was theirs, without thinking that a charm was spelling the shoe, preventing anyone from wearing it, igniting the feet, or shrinking on the feet of all young women who were not its owner.

---

Y/n locked in her room, screaming and drumming at the door, seeing that no one was going to help her, she looked at the small window, she was too small for her to pass but maybe by luck someone was going to hear her.

In the alley, knights walked through each building, forcing all the young women out, forming lines of people.

Criston Cole, who led the search, saw a knight approaching while running.

“Sir, a young woman screams for help in an inn, they refuse to let her out.”

Cole frowned, ordering the knight to guide him to the inn. Crossing the streets, Criston heard the screams of a young woman, he started to run, the order was to give that all young women be introduced, no one will go against the throne.

Employees seeing guards approaching the castle began to wonder if letting the person be locked up was always a good idea. Seeing that no one was moving, Criston passed over the employees, the knights holding them in the entrance, going up the steps, he looked for where the voice came from. Continuing up the steps he finally saw an isolated door, the cries came from there.

In decided to break down the door, giving several blows with force, fortunately, the door in poor condition did not last long. The door came out of its hinges and fell to the ground. Y/n remained silent, seeing a knight at the entrance of his room.

"Are you all right?"

Y/n shook hrr head, having lost her words, now everything was fine.

---

By nightfall, the crowd was only beginning to fade, hoping to find the young woman as well.

Only three people remained, although the shoe test was disastrous for them. What annoyed Alicent, so much she wanted to see them flee the castle.

At the level of the large gate she could see Cole enter, the search had to be completed. He approached the queen.

“Majesty, the search is over, we found a young woman locked up and brought her here.”

When Y/n entered the throne room, Aemond recognized her directly. Madame, I recognized her too, quickly.

“Oh it’s nobody, just our servant.”

"Why did you lock her up in this case?" Alicent looked at the frightening woman with a questioning look.

“I am not a servant. I am Y/n Y/h/n, true heiress of the Y/k/n. kingdom.”

Alicent looked at Otto for confirmation of the words spoken by the young woman in front of her. He reflected for a moment on why her face seemed so familiar to him. He confirmed with a gesture of the head.

A servant took the pillow where the sapphire shoe was placed, wanting to get closer to Y/n. Madame with an unfortunate little movement of feet, made the servant trip.

The shoe burst in contact with the ground, Aemond looked with his only eye at the old woman, her blood bubbling in her veins.

“I have another one.”

The royal family looked at the plump, surprised young woman, Y/n out of a pocket of her apron the shoe identical to the previous one. And help a servant get her off.

There were no flames or shrinkage, the shoe fit perfectly. His mother-in-law began to threaten Y/n, forgetting the Targaryen and Hightower present.

"You little bitch! How dare you? When we return to the archipelago, you will be entitled!"

Aemond stood between Y/n and the mother-in-law, staring at the woman. Under the orders of Queen Alicent, guards led Madame and her daughters into the dungeons. He was spanking later, the time for discussions was passing, the next days were going to be charged, for the moment, Y/n had to rest from the screams, the dirt and the threats. Oh Aemond wasn’t going to pass that. 

[councilofcastamere]

just got left in delivered by a talking stage and am now speaking to this swedish boy I ignored for my talking stage (🤡), so WHO WANTS ASOIAF SMUT TO CELEBRATE 😜

[bluemargotrobbie]

AEGON , AEMMA Y AEMOND| FANFIC EDIT| DANZA DE DRAGONES

La lucha por el trono de hierro era un hecho, uno quería defender su derecho, otros ambicionar a él...

Aemma Velaryon lucharía por el derecho legítimo de su madre a lo que legítimamente le corresponde.

Aegon II Targaryen, coronado bajo los siete como Rey de los Siete Reinos..estar en el poder que le dieron y hacer lo que se le dé la gana

Aemond Targaryen, el tuerto... luchar por el derecho de su hermano y al mismo tiempo tener el deseo de ser él, el mas preparado para ocupar ese cargo

“Lo único que puede derribar a la Casa del Dragón es ella misma ”

📚: 𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗠𝗔 (publicado)

🖋: LunaticaBlack (wattpad)

🌎: HOTD

💌: Aemond, Aegon T& Cregan Stark

👤: Aemma Velaryon

[greenhikingboots]

More of an Effort - a Jonsa ficlet

As Sansa sat next to her husband, the new King in the North, she rubbed the palm of one hand with the thumb of the other, a haphazard attempt to soothe her fears. Her mind raced with words she needed to say, words she knew Jon would not be happy to hear. Though they agreed to marry shortly after reuniting at Castle Black, they had agreed on little else since. Why would tonight be any different?

He’s a brute, Sansa thought. Whenever his advisors asked him questions, he responded with little more than grunts and two word sentences, and when he trained for battle his eyes gleamed with unadulterated rage. And he thinks I’m a child, her bitter thoughts piled on. But I’m not a child. Not anymore.  How could Jon see her otherwise, though, given their shared past? They had not been close as children, at least not as close as she had been with Robb, or Bran, or Rickon, or as he had been with Arya. But they were raised to believe they were half-siblings, and that complicated their marriage now. They knew it would, of course — Sansa, and Jon, and everyone at Castle Black knew it would. Howland Reed most of all, and yet he insisted they marry for the sake of the North. “Some of the Houses will refuse to support Jon,” he’d said, “given he’s — he’s —” “A Targaryen,” Sansa spat, still struggling to believe it. “— given he’s Ned’s nephew, not his son,” Howland amended. “And some won’t want to support you either, Lady Sansa, given you married a Lannister.” “But I’ve told you already! Our marriage was never consummated. Even the ladies at court, they whispered — and — and I’m sure — Well, my mother always said there are no secrets in a castle, so I suspect —” Howland held up his hands as if surrendering. Or, perhaps he held up his hands to entice Sansa to surrender. She fell silent, and he continued. “That’s part of my point, my dear. You’re free to marry again. Now, as I said earlier, if you marry Jon the North won’t squabble over which of you has the better claim. And wouldn’t that be nice, no more squabbling?” Sansa started to rise from her chair, intending to move closer to the fire in Jon’s chambers as she thought it over, but just as she did, he chortled. She sat back down and whipped her head to the side to stare at him. “What’s so funny?” she demanded to know. Jon dragged his hand over his beard. “I don’t know,” he said. “Nothing. Everything. You being here. Howland using the word squabble.” He turned to Howland. “Don’t say squabble when you mean war.” It was the most Jon had spoken since Sansa’s arrival at Castle Balck the day before. She whipped her head back around, this time to see if Howland found that as perplexing as she did. “Jon’s had a difficult few days. Be patient with him,” Howland said. It was true. Jon had been murdered, brought back to life, told Robb had legitimized him — which made him next in line for the Northern crown — and then told the truth about his parents, about Lyanna and Rhaega’s secret wedding and how Petyr Baelish had stolen scrolls from the Citadel which proved it had happened. “When it suits him, Littlefinger will find a way to use that information to his advantage,” Howland had said. “Best that we take action to get ahead of him.” It was enough to make anyone’s head spin, Sansa knew, but she wasn’t feeling particularly sympathetic. “I’ve had a difficult few days as well,” she muttered, thinking of her and Howland’s journey from the Vale to the Wall. “But you don’t hear me laughing at inappropriate times,” she added a moment, a little louder. Jon shot her a nasty look before turning his attention back to Howland. “You truly believe this is necessary?” he asked. “Even more so since hearing your Wildlings talk about the horrors beyond the Wall. If we’re to have any chance of surviving the white walkers, the North must be united under House Stark.” Jon leaned forward in his chair. “House Stark? I’ll take her name, then?” Her name. Not Sansa’s name. And he didn’t even glance or nod in her direction when he said it. Sansa crossed her arms over her chest, her mood souring. Meanwhile, Howland grinned as if that part of the plan should have been obvious, as if a man — a king — taking his wife’s name wasn’t the most ridiculous thing any of them had ever heard of. Well, the most ridiculous thing right after resurrections and white walkers. Jon dragged his hand over his beard once more. There was a look in his eyes now that told Sansa everything she needed to know. His decision had been made. More than the crown, more than the authority to lead an army, he wanted to be a Stark. He’d always wanted to be a Stark. “You’d never have to leave Winterfell again,” Jon said, still not giving Sansa as much as a glance. “You’d never have to marry someone like Joffrey Baratheon or Harry Hardying —” “I’d have to give you an heir.” Jon deflated, and Sansa nearly let out a mirthless laugh. Okay, an inappropriate laugh. Had he really not thought of that on his own? “You could take your time with that part,” Howland offered. “No need to rush. The Northerners — they’ll understand.” “They’ll ridicule us,” Sansa protested. Finally, Jon’s eyes met hers. “Better to be ridiculed than dead,” he said quietly. And so they married. The ceremony took place near a heart tree beyond the Wall, the very same, Jon told her, where he’d once said his vows for the Night’s Watch. Take no wife, hold no lands, father no children — the irony was not lost on them. As they rode out, Sansa’s stomach was full of knots. And yet, when she draped a cloak over Jon’s shoulders rather than the other way around, and when she saw his cheeks flush in response, those knots turned to butterflies. She smiled at him. He smiled back at her. And then Howland hugged them both, and she remembered what it was like to feel hopeful. “Something’s troubling you.” Jon’s words cut through Sansa’s memories and made her jump in her seat at the head table of the Great Hall. “Oh, yes, I — I suppose that’s true,” she said. “How did you know, Your Grace?” Jon winced. “Sansa, I’ve told you. You don’t —” “Have to call you that? I think I do. Here in front of the lords and ladies, at least, I do. Otherwise I might slip up and challenge you in front of them, as I do in front of your advisors, and then where would we be?” Jon allowed a hesitant smile, the first one Sansa had seen from him in weeks — perhaps since their wedding ceremony, she realized. Afterwards, they had traveled the North in search of allies and then, just yesterday, they’d finally retaken Winterfell. At Sansa’s suggestion, Jon had let poor Jeyne Poole choose the manner of Ramsay Bolton’s execution, and the two friends had smiled at each other when she said Ramsay should be fed to his dogs. But not Jon. He’d remained as solemn as ever. Until now, apparently, at the celebration feast where his wife has insisted on referring to him by his title rather than his — well, not his given name. His given name had been Aemon Targaryn, Howland told them. But Jon had insisted on remaining Jon. Jon Stark. “Since when do you admit to challenging me?” he asked. “I thought you held that you were advising me, same as the others.” As he said this, Jon sounded almost — almost — playful. Sansa thought of teasing him about it, of asking how many cups of wine it had taken to lift his spirits. But before the question could slip through her lips, she thought better of it. She did not want to lose track of the racing thoughts that had her rubbing her palm a minute ago. They were overdue for an important conversation. Now that Winterfell was theirs, there was really no reason to continue putting it off. Sansa inhaled deeply, readying herself, and then leaned closer to Jon. “Howland suggested we make more of an effort,” she said. “Not — not necessarily — well, you know. Not necessarily do the deed. But make more of an effort.” Jon smiled in earnest, and it made Sansa’s stomach flip. What had gotten into her? What had gotten into him?  “Yes, I remember Howland saying that,” he replied. “I was there.” “Then you agree? You’ll visit me in my chambers after the feast?” Jon’s smile faltered. “Tonight?” he asked, glancing away. “We don’t need to touch,” Sansa rushed to clarify. “I’m sure you’re still exhausted from yesterday’s fight anyway. But we do need to learn to be comfortable sharing a bed and talking about something other than battle plans or grain supplies.” “Sharinng a bed,” Jon echoed. “And talking. Just talking,” Sansa emphasized. And so they did. That night, for the first time, they shared a bed as husband and wife, and they talked for hours — about family, and regret, and unexpected lessons, and healing, and courage, and love. Yes, love. And as Sansa fell asleep, her hand covering Jon’s, she knew it wouldn’t be long before they were doing more than talking about it. [This is only on Tumblr for now. I may eventually turn it into a longer one-shot and put it on AO3, but probably not before finishing my multi chapter WIP. So not anytime soon. Also, if you recently saw me nervously ask if anyone was interested in co-authoring a fic, this is the one I was talking about.]

[aemondsloverrrrr]

other woman

summary. it seems like the marriage you have longed for isn’t the one you were looking for.

pairing. aemond x fem!targaryen!oc

warning. profanity, angst

A/N. this is inspired by the iconic scene in the crown!!

Aemond, the prince she was married with. Aemond and Reina were friends when they were kids, she was the only one to defend him from his brother and her brothers. Aemond was thankful for that.

6 years passed Reina became a fine lady, they all were seated in the dining hall. eating, talking, making jokes. but upon hearing the proposal made by both Rhaenyra and Alicent. Aemond was fuming, he had promised Alys to live in the Red keep as a healer and Aemond’s secret lover, but it seems like his family has different ideas.

Reina on the other hand was excited to finally get married, she’d accept a proposal from anyone but what made her even more thrilled was that she was going to get married with Aemond.

the night of the wedding, Aemond did not agree to the bedding, instead he went out of the red keep to meet with the Alys, to fuck her on the night of their marriage.

when Alicent found out about it, she barged into Aemond’s chamber and confronted her about the rumor, she then told Aemond to bed Reina and give her a child.

a child to which became children.

weeks passed, Reina gave birth to two children, one boy and one girl, she named her son Aevon, and her daughter Aeryn.

it has been two years, and finally, Aevon and Aeryn were a year old.

“my darlings, come to mama” she smiled, “mama, mama” they crawled to her. “i love you my darlings” Reina played with their hair. the door of her chambers opened revealing Aemond.

“what is it that you want?” she looked up at him, “the children, i want to spend my time with them” Aemond replied “spend your time with my children, with who? your mistress, Alys?” a mocking smile crept up onto Reina’s lips.

“i am only married to you for duty, Reina. do not forget that” Reina stood up, “do you think i wanted to get married to you? i would rather marry my brother Jacaerys than to be with you!” she exclaimed, calling her handmaiden.

“take my children with prince Aemond, tell one of the kingsguard to keep an eye on them, and tell him if he stopped keeping his eye on Aemond i will take his head” Reina kissed her children goodbye and left.

————————————————

one day, Aemond barged into his mother’s chambers with Alys. making her jump out of surprise, “what do you want, Aemond?” Alicent stood up. “your Grace,” Alys curtsied.

Alicent looked at Alys with pity “is this about that Alys girl? oh, Reina already told me so much about that girl”

“i want Alys to be put here, i want her to live here” “why? that is not necessary,” Alicent replied calmly, “you have a wife, and children. Reina aswell disagrees to this arrangement, give respect to her”

“i do not love Reina, it is Alys who i want!” Aemond raised his voice, “but you are married to Reina! she has your children!” Alicent exclaimed, “i understand that you had love Alys before, but you are married to Reina, you are the father of her children so i will not hear more of this.”

“it is your duty, respect her. do not embarrass me even more” Aemond stormed out of her chambers, his eyes meeting the gaze of a sad Alys.

“she does not like me, does she?” Alys looked up at Aemond, who cupped her face “if my mother tried to get to know you, she will love you. i am sure of that” a smile crept onto Aemond’s lips, placing a kiss on Alys’ forehead. “but what about your wife? Reina?” she asked, holding his hands, “do not worry about her. alright? i promise you” they walked outside of the red keep, and into the dragon pit.

that night, Helaena asked Reina to help her take care of a drunken Aegon, Reina agreed. but when Helaena stepped out of the room to grab something, Aegon immediately pulled Reina to the bed, making her fall on his laps, straddling him.

“you can be my second wife, Reina” Aegon whispered into her ears, she internally cried, begging Helaena to come back, “i am king, i can give you whatever you want” he said, looking right at Reina with eyes, sparkling.

maybe he does like Reina but refused to admit it.

at first she thought of it, but then she shook her head cursing herself for thinking those thoughts.

“i can give you what Aemond can’t. you are the one i want” he whispered again, this time his hand finally touching her skin, his hands going up to her thighs, “no, i do not want you Aegon. i am loyal to Aemond, i have his children” Reina stood up, she stopped straddling Aegon, “i could love your children as my own” Reina scoffs “can you? are you even able to love?”

“is he loyal to you?” he replied, “because i saw him with some girl..what’s her name? oh Alys. yes Alys, i saw Aemond with Alys few days back” Aegon laughed.

Reina’s world instantly became black, Alys Rivers. the name that has kept hearing coming out of her husband’s lips, the girl who she and Aemond kept fighting about.

“i..i should go, you should just wait for Helaena” Reina’s tears were threatening to fall out, she walked out of Helaena and Aegon’s shared chamber bumping right into Helaena, “are you okay?” she asked, Reina nodded “im fine, i should go..it is getting late” Helaena nodded understanding her.

night in red keep was cold, or maybe it was just Reina. walking through the red keep with her head down, her hands in front of her trying to avoid the people.

she reached her children’s chamber, opening the door to see her children fast asleep with her handmaiden sitting on a chair, “how were they?” she asked, looking at Aevon and Aeryn, “they were quite noisy, princess but they went fast asleep quickly” her handmaiden replied, Reina nodded.

she stepped closer to her children, touching their faces, playing softly with their hair, whispering sweet words to them. “i love you, goodnight my darlings” she placed a kiss on both of their forehead before leaving.

she walked out of Aevon and Aeryn’s chamber, walking towards her own.

she opened the doors of her chamber, the heat of the fire hitting her skin, she searched for Aemond but mutters curse words for being so stupid to think he’ll stay with her.

she plopped on her bed fixing her pillows and blanket, Reina closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

———

the sun shines through Reina’s curtains, “hm” she hummed, squinting her eyes as she looks towards the curtain.

the first thing she thought of was to greet her children and her mother-in-law. Reina stood up, changing into her dress, and combed her hair.

as she walks to her children’s chamber, she greets every maiden and kingsguard, “Odette?” Reina knocks, after few seconds her handmaiden opens the door. “princess, good morning” Odette bowed.

“good morning, are they awake already?” “they are, princess. they have been crying, looking for you” upon hearing Odette’s words, Reina went inside the chambers immediately, “ooh, ooh, darling stop crying, mama is here” she cooed.

“Odette, may you be so kind and carry Aevon for me? mother would want to see the children this morning” Odette nodded, walking over to carry Aevon.

“good morning, princess” they greeted her, Reina on the other hand showed them her infamous smile.

“your Grace?” Odette knocked, “your Grace?” Odette peeked through the door, “oh! come in, come in!” Alicent smiled brightly.

“good morning, princess Reina” “good morning, your Grace. have you slept well?” she asked, making Aeryn and Aevon sit in her bed.

“call me mother, Reina and why yes i have, care to eat? i told them to send my breaking of fast here” Alicent offered the younger a slice of apple. “thank you, mother” Reina smiled sweetly.

it was not a surprise to Alicent that she sees Rhaenyra in Reina, from the name, to the looks, to  her personality. she was like a mini Rhaenyra and it warmed Alicent’s heart to bond with Reina.

“Aeryn had started to walk, mother it was an exciting moment to see!” Reina said excitedly, “oh really? oh please, show me!”

Reina carried Aeryn to the ground and help her balance, “Aeryn, Aeryn. sweetling come here” Alicent said, clapping her hands to get Aeryn’s attention. “come, come. here, do you want an apple?” she showed the slice. Aeryn laughs happily, showing her cute dimples as she walks towards Alicent.

“oh! oh!” Alicent’s heart warmed “great job! good job, baby” said Reina. Alicent and Reina were laughing and talking about anything when Odette knocked.

“princess? prince Aemond is looking for you” she had her head low, “well, mother i must go” “it is alright,” Reina went to hug Alicent before leaving her with her children.

once she reached her chamber, she opened the two huge doors revealing Aemond sitting by the fireplace, “what is it that you need, Husband?” Reina walked closer to him.

“mother told me to be more affectionate with you.” Aemond stood up, facing Reina “what do you mean?” she asked, her hands now behind her, “like, kiss you, fuck you” Reina scoffed. “kiss me? you couldn’t even bring yourself to hug me!” she exclaimed.

“i hug who i want to, i hug who i love” Aemond raised his voice a little, “particularly when they are affected by the selfishness of others and need cheering up!” Aemond walked closer, and closer to Reina. “who are you referring to?” her eyebrows knitted together “Alys.” Reina chuckles. “why would i care about her?!” “because i care about her!” Aemond yelled, their eyes never leaving each other.

his words broke Reina’s heart.

“morning, noon, and night i care about her! and you hurt her. if you hurt her. you hurt me”  “why would i care if i hurt her or you?! i do not give a shit” Reina yelled back, “i am the first daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, but you..you are nothing but the second son of the late King” she pushed his chest with her index finger.

“Alys is who i want” Aemond paused “that is where my loyalties lie, that is who my priority is” he added, towering Reina. “not the mother of your children?” tears are forming, “don’t bring the children into this,” Aemond backed away from Reina, “alright, not the woman you married!!?” she yelled, “i married you for duty not for love! i do not love you, i love Alys, my Alys!” Aemond yelled back.

his words were like venom, it stung her, it broke her heart to see what Aemond had become.

they were both yelling at each other, it was a first. the whole red keep shook at their voices.

“if you have a complaint, i suppose, not being loved, or appreciated in this marriage. i suggest you take it up with the people who arranged it.” Aemond looked at her, “leave.” was all she said before turning her back to him.

Aemond stood there, “i said. leave!” she screamed pointing towards the door.

when Aemond left? Reina fell to the ground sobbing, “what did i do to deserve this?” she cried out. “i did not deserve to be treated like this. stupid marriage, stupid allegiance” her heart was broken into thousands of pieces, Aemond broke her sensitive and fragile heart.

[yummycastiel]

''the dreamer'' part 9- aemond targaryen x ofc

summary: Jace and Daenys have a talk, and Daenys comes to a realization about her feelings for Aemond.

read series masterlist HERE or read on A03

story summary: Daenys Velaryon, the brown-haired second child of Rhaenyra and Laenor, travels to King’s Landing with her family to visit the King, her grandfather, and to witness Jacaerys’ and Baela’s wedding. As tensions between house Targaryen rise, Daenys and Aemond cross paths once again, and the prince discovers an annoying attraction to the Velaryon girl.

~~~

Daenys.

            Daenys knew Jace was behind her, practically chasing after her but she continued, intent on avoiding her brother.

            ‘’Daenys!’’ Jace shouted at her as he stormed after her. She ignored him, wrapping her arms around herself as she ran to anywhere that would help her lose him. ‘’Daenys, stop! Seven hells, listen to me!’’ The rage in Jace’s voice made Daenys come screeching to a halt. He had followed her to the courtyard where the great heart tree was, where Daenys loved to come on sunny days with Aemond. She stood there, looking at the tree and not Jace, who she knew was behind her.

            ‘’Did you see what happened back there?’’ Jace began in a low voice, circling around her to look Daenys in the face. Daenys avoided his eyes, shifting uncomfortably where she stood.

            ‘’I was there, was I not?’’ She retorted, dryly.

            ‘’You heard what Aegon said?’’ Jace asked, his interrogating seemingly ceaseless. Now Daenys rolled her eyes, growing impatient.

            ‘’When he called me a whore like our mother? Yes, I do believe I was there for that as well.’’

            ‘’How could you let this happen?’’ Jace implored after a slight pause, his dark eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Daenys’ eyes flared and she looked up at her older brother.

            ‘’How could I let this happen? That wasn’t my fault Jace!’’ She hissed, crossing her arms.

            ‘’You may not have commanded Aegon to do what he did, or told Aemond to give him a beating, but you should have known nothing good would come of you getting close to our uncle.’’ Jace snapped.

            ‘’You’re still saying that it was my fault, brother.’’ Daenys spat, face beginning to flush with anger.

            ‘’Look what has resulted from it! I have minded my tongue about you and Aemond, but that was my mistake. You should have known something like this might happen, you should have known the consequences. Have you learnt nothing from our mother’s mistake?’’ Jace cried, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

            ‘’Mistake? Jace-‘’ Daenys started but her brother cut her off before she could continue.

            ‘’You put yourself into a position of vulnerability with this friendship Daenys, are you too stupid to not see it? What Aegon said, what he insinuated, puts us all in danger.’’

            ‘’No one will heed Aegon’s insult Jace. He is a drunk and everyone knows it. Besides, I am not married, neither is Aemond, this is hardly like what happened to our mother.’’ Daenys pointed out. ‘’There is no adultery, no treason. Merely the baseless insults from a low-life prince.’’

            ‘’It does not matter what the truth is Daenys, what matters is what people see, and what they saw was Aegon call you a whore and Aemond rush to defend your honor. Word travels fast here sister, do you have any idea the trouble these rumors can cause for us? For you? You could be ruined.’’ Jace explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Daenys groaned, but she knew Jace was right.

            ‘’Aemond did no such thing, for all we know he was insulted by the insinuation that he and I were anything more than mere friends.’’ Daenys replied, in denial. Jace pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed and frustrated.

            ‘’You know what Aemond was thinking, do you not Daenys? You more than anyone knows what goes on inside our uncle’s head.’’ Daenys arched an eyebrow.

            ‘’What is that supposed to mean?’’ She questioned, a sinking feeling developing in her stomach.

            ‘’You and Aemond are close, much too close.’’

            ‘’So, what if we are? We are friends, nothing more. What is the harm in it?’’ Daenys protested. She had half a mind to walk away but she knew there was no avoiding the conversation any longer. She regretted the question as soon as she asked because Jace snorted with a humorless laugh.

            ‘’Aemond is with them, Daenys, under Queen Alicent’s thumb. You think he cares for you? He is only using you, no doubt a part of the Queen’s schemes. Yet you continuously decide to ignore the fact that our families will never fix what is broken, and you continuously decide to put us at risk.’’ If Daenys felt any other way towards Aemond she would agree with Jace. It made perfect sense. Aemond really could be using her, and she really could be risking their safety and their mother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Never trust anyone. Daemon had told her so more times than she could count. Yet she trusted Aemond Targaryen. Daenys said nothing in response to Jace, just glared at him. Her brother paced around, his upset attitude not going away, after a couple moments, he put both his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes, searching for a response.

            ‘’Do you love him?’’ He finally whispered desperately; the words so quiet she barely heard them even though he was standing right in front of her. Daenys stared at him, biting down on her lip hard as she felt tears prickling in her eyes. She had not had the courage to ask herself that same question, and when Jace shook her hard she turned her eyes to the ground, words failing her. Her silence was answer enough for her brother, and he straightened up, running a hand down his troubled face. ‘’Seven hells Daenys.’’ He muttered.

            Did she love Aemond? She had never known love before. Is this what it felt like? Did it feel like flying? Did it feel like every time she touched him every nerve caught fire under her skin? Did it feel like every look, every glance in his direction sent her heart pounding with delicious adrenaline? Out of the mess of emotions Daenys felt she could only be sure that being near Aemond made her feel like she was home.

            The sound of footsteps startled the two siblings, both of whom whipped around to see Aemond arrive in the courtyard. He was out of breath as he stood there, watching them with a wide violet eye, chest heaving. Aemond’s silver-blonde hair was a mess, Aegon’s blood still painted on his cheek. Daenys met his eye, drawn to it as she always was, and when she did her mind went blank.

            Oh.

            ‘’Daenys?’’ Aemond’s hoarse voice came. He sounded concerned, worried for her for some reason.

            She loved him.

Aemond.

            He had hoped that he would find Daenys alone. His heart sunk when he saw Jacaerys with her, arms on her shoulder, looking frustrated. After his bout with Aegon, Aemond had resisted the urge to go running after the princess immediately, but he stalked off aimlessly in the other direction, trying to avoid the summons his mother would doubtless send upon seeing what he had done to her oldest son. After a few minutes, Aemond couldn’t take it anymore, and he rushed to find Daenys, stomach doing flips as he searched. When he finally found her, along with her brother, he wanted to rush forward and push his nephew away from her, as it was obvious from the sounds of his yells that he was angry with her.

            ‘’Daenys?’’ He called out, trying to get both their attentions. Daenys whipped around, her eyes glassy, hands clasped and at her chest. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of them, something passing over her gaze, as if she had just come up with some new idea.

            ‘’Aemond-‘’ Daenys started, but she stood in place, unmoving. Jace’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the prince, burning with dislike, and he stepped between him and Daenys, trying to block her from view. Aemond’s lip curled, the familiar rage from earlier flickering to life within him.

            ‘’Leave us, Aemond.’’ Jace said in a low voice, ‘’This is between me and my sister, nothing to do with you’’ Aemond arched an eyebrow at his nephew’s gall.

            ‘’I think it has everything to do with me.’’ Aemond retorted.

            ‘’Leave us.’’ Jace repeated, ignoring his truth, and beginning to turn his back on him. Aemond leaned to the side to see Daenys, who did the same so she could see him. Her eyes were red, tears beginning to well up and the silver prince’s heart softened, it always softened for her.

            ‘’I wished to see if Princess Daenys was alright, if there was anything I could do.’’ He replied, voice matching Jace’s tone.

            ‘’You’ve done enough.’’ Was all Jace said, clearly wanting to end the conversation. Aemond’s hand curled into a fist. Daenys however, took matters into her own hands and shouldered past her brother to meet him, not before Jace reached out to grab her wrist.

            ‘’Daenys!’’ The boy hissed, ‘’What are you doing?’’ Daenys wrenched herself out of his grip.

            ‘’I’m going to talk to Aemond, brother.’’ She returned through gritted teeth, ignoring his warning look, and she turned and rushed towards the prince. She brushed past him, taking him by the hand and leading him away. Aemond looked back at Jacaerys before he was pulled away, unable to resist giving Daenys’ older brother the ghost of a victorious smirk. He returned his attention to his little niece, who had led him to an empty corridor of the Keep. Her hand in his felt warm, smooth, and small. He hummed in satisfaction at how perfect Daenys’ hand felt in his own. He returned his distracted gaze to the brown-haired princess in front of him, who took her hand from his, much to his regret.

            ‘’What happened back there, Aemond?’’ Daenys asked him in a low voice, looking up at him and leaning forward so he could hear her. Aemond blinked, knowing what she was talking about, but wishing that it would somehow be forgotten. He shifted in place but kept his eye on her for a moment before he spoke.

            ‘’Aegon called you a whore.’’ Aemond replied softly, the truth an automatic response to any question that Daenys would ask of him. Daenys’ pink lips parted; her eyebrows furrowed as she listened to his response.

            ‘’And because your brother called me a whore you decided to beat him half to death?’’ Daenys clarified, crossing her arms, looking as though she was holding back a small smile.

            ‘’You are not a whore, princess,’’ He said, ‘’He was also vexing me with all his ridiculous talk.’’ He tried to be nonchalant, to hide the rage that had burned through his veins when Aegon had insinuated that Daenys was a whore. He remembered how he had seen red, Aegon, his own brother, disappearing to his eye and transforming into something he had to punch. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until Aegon was on the ground, writhing in pain, and Aemond’s hands were splattered with blood that they both shared. Slowly, Aemond realized the extent to what he had done, and he was terrified. Terrified of how it was only Daenys’ voice that was able to bring him out of his anger, terrified of what he was capable of to defend his niece, his bastard-born niece at that. Daenys was more dangerous than Aemond thought.

            ‘’You realize that now that the whole court will be gossiping about you and me, right? They will spread the rumor that you defended my honor against Aegon.’’ Daenys scolded. Aemond felt his mind swim, drunk on the closeness of her, on her smell. He leaned into Daenys, dangerously close, brown strands of hair taunting him to reach out and touch them.

            ‘’So, what if I did?’’ Aemond questioned, ‘’I was not going to let him get away with that, sweet girl.’’ The boldness of his statement, the sweet girl, came tumbling out of his mouth, but Aemond did not care anymore. Daenys flushed, and her eyes dropped to the floor.

            ‘’You did not have to do that.’’ She whispered, still avoiding his gaze. ‘’It will only cause more trouble between our families.’’

            ‘’Is that what Jacaerys told you?’’ Aemond retorted, ‘’What lies has he been whispering in your ear?’’

            ‘’They are not necessarily lies Aemond,’’ Protested Daenys, ‘’He is merely looking out for me, letting me know that these rumors you have caused can put me and my family in a vulnerable situation.’’

            ‘’I would not let you find yourself in a vulnerable situation.’’ Aemond said stiffly, insulted at the notion that he would.

            ‘’Jace told me that you could be manipulating me, using me at orders of the Queen.’’ Aemond felt hurt at this accusation. He stared at her, wide-eyed and wounded.

            ‘’You honestly believe that Daenys?’’ The notion that Daenys could look at him with any suspicion made his heart hurt, and Aemond realized he would do anything it took for the girl to trust him as he somehow trusted her.

            ‘’No…’’ She managed after a moment, ‘’I don’t believe that. I trust you.’’

            ‘’I have already told you; I know not of any designs or conspiracies my mother may be concocting.’’ Aemond reiterated, desperate for Daenys to believe him.

            ‘’I believe you, Aemond, please-‘’ Daenys assured, raising her hands in defense, but Aemond cut her off.

            ‘’What I did to Aegon, I did it for you.’’ He confessed after taking a steady breath, ‘’I realize that the insinuation that Aegon created, the one I created, puts your honor as a lady on the line, and I promise, I will do everything in my power to make sure that your virtue is not questioned.’’ Aemond felt as shocked as Daenys looked when he finished. He wanted to shrink away, turn tail and flee, certain of her rejection, but he couldn’t handle it any longer. Every day he spent with Daenys the feelings inside him were building up, bottled up inside him, and he tried his best to keep his composure. Aemond wasn’t an idiot, he knew that the cracks were beginning to show, that he was beginning to be painfully obvious about his affections towards Daenys, but he couldn’t help it. Half the time he couldn’t even be bothered to keep up any charade he knew that he should be.

            Daenys looked up at Aemond, brown eyes soft, and she smiled at him slightly. She reached up tentatively to brush her fingers against his blood-splattered cheek. He would do anything for Daenys, Aemond realized, and that was a problem. His hand acted on its own accord and came up to brush his fingers against Daenys’, the slightest touch taking Aemond’s breath away. They were so close, so fucking close. He could lean forward and just…

            Daenys darted back, away from him, the space between them increasing, making Aemond clench his fist in frustration.

            ‘’Thank you Aemond.’’ Daenys murmured, her hands wringing, letting Aemond know how nervous she was. ‘’You know, Jace has been telling me how much of a bad thing it is for us to be…close.’’ Right, close, Aemond thought with some amusement. ‘’Do you think he worries for naught?’’ Aemond sighed, cocking his head to the side as he looked at her.

            ‘’There is much distrust between our families Daenys,’’ He began, ‘’Your family thinks I am using you for some ulterior motive, and mine feels the same about you, but the important thing is that we are not using each other.’’ He paused to check if his soothing was working. Daenys crossed her arms and huffed. ‘’The only thing to worry about is the absurd comment my brother made, and I will handle it if anything comes up, I promise you that.’’ Daenys nodded, seemingly assured.

            ‘’I cannot thank you enough.’’ She said, giving him a warm smile. They stood there for a moment in silence, and Aemond was tempted to reach out for the princess again, but his thought was interrupted by Ser Criston Cole. The Kingsguard knight had turned the corner and bowed to him, a pinched look on his face.

            ‘’My prince,’’ He greeted, ‘’Your mother the Queen requests your audience immediately.’’

            ‘’I’m busy, Cole, tell my mother I’ll be there when I can.’’ Aemond snapped, giving Alicent’s sworn sword a scathing look. He looked back at Daenys, considering the matter resolved, but Criston did not budge. Daenys gave him an exasperated look, telling him with her eyes to relax. ‘’You’re still here.’’ Aemond groaned, looking back at the Dornishman.

            ‘’The Queen was quite adamant about seeing you.’’ Criston said shortly, giving Daenys a disapproving look. Aemond opened his mouth to give the knight a sneering insult but Daenys but a hand on his arm, like she had in the training courtyard after he had finished beating his brother up. It was a wonder how calming her touch felt to him, easing him immediately, quelling his temper.

            ‘’Go Aemond,’’ She whispered, ‘’Don’t stress your mother out more than you already have, hm?’’ Daenys gave him an encouraging smile, and Aemond begrudgingly nodded, moving to follow Criston.

            ‘’Fine, let’s go.’’ He said finally, and he looked back to give Daenys a little reassuring nod. He followed the knight, who walked swiftly towards his mother’s chambers. Aemond knew she had been informed of what happened, and he was already bracing himself for the anger she would no doubt hurl at him the moment she saw him. Aemond looked back at Daenys as he walked, and saw her staring after him, hands clasped together, looking small and worried in the huge halls of the Red Keep.

~~

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a/n: hope everyone who is still reading is enjoying :) will keep updating even if i only get like 3 notes dw

[genz420]

The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 90: The Queen Of The New Age Of The Dragon.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part 

138 - Harrenhal   

Aemond had relieved Ben of staying with Visenya shortly after the two had finished their conversation.   Ben was happy to leave the room, leaving the two Targayens alone while he checks to ensure that Rob had been handling everything for the coronation.  

Aemond and Visenya had not spoken a word to one another, both silently minding their business until Visenya had tried to get dressed on her own.  Aemond had silently helped her, tying the dress's corset, helping Visenya with her shoes and stockings, and then making her sit down so he could do her hair.   

The dress is truly beautiful, the fabric is the deep red of the Targaryen sigil, and the dress hangs off Visenya's shoulders, leaving her neck and shoulders bare.  The many scars and burns on her skin are on display for all to see, and Aemond can’t help but feel a sense of pride.  The dress is void of both black and green, wanting to display the only loyalty that Visenya has, and instead of the trimmings being Black like her old dresses, it is gold.  Visenya had chosen to add the old belt chain that Alysanne had gifted her years ago.  

Aemond can’t help but run her hand gently through Visenya's hair, his fingers splitting some of the curls.  He could braid her hair in some elaborate design, but he has been given strict orders from Rob not to; the lords want the crown he has made to be the centrepiece and not to be outshined by Visenya's hair.  

The feeling of Aemonds hand in her hair is enough for sleep to call to her.  The simple gesture of Aemond braiding her hair and taking care of her is nice, and she knows that the moments like these might not happen again.  His presence makes her feel safe, and she knows that so long as Aemond is with her, she is safe and can relax.  

Aemond smiles as he looks down at his wife, her hands neatly resting in her lap as she leans into his touch.  Aemond watches as her chest rises and falls, his eye lingering a little too long on her chest that her dress so beautifully shows off.  

But the relaxing moment between husband and wife ends as what sounds like two people knocking on the door echoes in the room.  Aemond watches as Visenya wakes up from her doze, covering her mouth as she yawns and looks towards the door.  

Aemond gently rubs his thumb over the exposed skin of her neck before moving to answer the door.  Visenya runs her thumb where Aemonds once was as she stands up.  

Aemond can’t help the groan he lets out as he realizes who was knocking on the door. He leaves it open as he makes his way back over to Visenya, his arm wrapping around her waist once he is close enough to her, and he moves her in front of him so that she may rest against his chest.   

“Why are you two here?” Visenya asks, her hand moving to rest on Aemonds, whose hand is resting on her stomach.  

“Maybe we just wanted to see our fourth and fifth favourite Targaryens,” Ben answers as he closes the door behind him and Rob, he can’t help but smile to himself at the two Targaryens the way that Aemond holds Visenya against him like the two men are coming to take her away.  It almost reminds him how Laenor and Daenys protectively hold their toys to keep the other from taking them.   

“Fourth and fifth?” Aemond asks, holding Visenya closer to him.  He knows that the second they leave this room then, everything is going to change, and the longer he keeps Ben or Rob talking then, the longer he can just hold his wife.  

“Obviously, Laenor is number one, as he will be the best warrior the known worlds have ever seen.  Then the babe because he is inheriting from his Hightower side, so I am going to take some pity on him.  Then Daenys, who will marry my little nephew, makes her better than you two.    Visenya fourth, and that leaves you fifth,” Ben answers, he has his favourites, and while he might be having a little fun with Visenya and Aemond, he would never tell them his actual order of favourite Targaryens.  

“I am once again asking why you two are here?” Visenya asks, smiling at the little rant of Ben's logic.  

“Beside insulting us,” Aemond says in a tone low enough for only him and Visenya to hear.  Visenya can’t help but let out a slight snicker at his words, grabbing his free hand to place a light kiss on his palm.  

“The lords are waiting for you,” Rob answers this time, his words only half the truth, and he prays to his gods that Visenya doesn’t keep asking questions but instead just leaves with them now so that he doesn’t have to make up more lies.  

“I thought the meeting wasn’t until later,” Visenya comments, her eyebrows scrunching together as she looks between Rob and Ben.  She was wanting to spend more time with Aemond and maybe their children before the final meeting and her departure tonight.  

“It is,” Ben agrees, not caring for lying to Visenya.  Instead, he would rather just have them tell her why they want her to leave early with them.  

Visenya looks between her two closest friends, watching as Rob gives Ben a look of anger. The two had not agreed on a lie or made a plan about what they were going to tell her.  

“What are you two up to?” Visenya asks, watching as Rob nervously shifts his weight on his feet while Ben only rolls his shoulders.  

“Why would you possibly think that we are doing anything?” Ben asks.  

“Never in our lives would you be doing something behind your back,” Rob says, and everyone in the room knows that his words are a flat out lie.  That Ben and Rob had done many things behind her back.  

“Have I told you that you look beautiful in that dress?” Ben asks; part of him hopes that either his questions or compliments bombard her to forget about any suspicious behaviour.  

“Very beautiful,” Rob agrees, and Visenya knows they are hiding something from her.  

“What are they planning?” Visenya asks Aemond; she knows that he must know what is going on. 

“Why are you asking me?” Aemond asks rather than answers.  He will not be the one to fumble the bag and tell Visenya, knowing that Rob would get back at him for exposing the secret.  

“Because you were the one to pick out this dress,” Visenya answers; she had thought that maybe Aemond had just wanted to see her in a lovely dress before she left and perhaps he wanted to take it off her later, so that is why he picked it out.   

“I picked it out because I knew you would look beautiful in it,” Aemond tells her, knowing that it might be enough for her to stop directing her questions to him and instead her two friends.  

Aemond is right because Visenya looks away from him and towards Rob, her eyes narrowed, and she knows that she would sooner get information out of him than Ben.  Rob thanks all the gods that Aemond is holding Visenya for fear that she might lunge for him to get the information she wants out of him.  

“Rob?” Visenya asks.  

“Don’t look her in the eye,” Ben whispers to his friend, wanting to lighten the mood but also because he knows Rob would break if he did.  

“The lords are waiting for you because we are leaving tomorrow, and they wanted to do something,” Rob tells her, trying to dance around the truth as much as he can.  

“What do they want?” Visenya asks; she isn’t finished making sure everything is in order before her departure.  

“I made you a crown,” Rob answers, but his voice is barely above a whisper and so quiet that even Ben is having difficulty hearing him.  

“What?” Visenya asks; the mumbles and quiet tones sound like nothing but nonsense to her.  

“I had a crown made for you, and the lords want to have a coronation before you leave,” Rob speaks up clearer, looking at Visenya to see her reaction to the news.  

The other two men in the room wait to see what Visenya does if she agrees to go ahead with the coronation.  Aemond can feel Visenya's heartbeat quicken against his chest, and he can’t help but brace himself for her reaction.  

“Okay,” Visenya says, nodding as she looks at Rob.  

“Really?” Rob asks, he had expected her to put up more of a fight against this, and he had prepared a whole speech to convince her that this is a good idea. 

“You want me to change my mind?” Visenya asks him; she knows that doing this means so much to the people that follow her.  If she finally gives in to what they want, they might fight harder for her.  

“Gods no,” Rob answers as he straightens out his clothes.   “Making this crown has been a pain.  Come on, no time for Aemond and you to have some alone time, people are waiting.”

Visenya can’t help but roll her eyes at Rob's tone and eagerness.  Aemond doesn’t bother telling Rob off for making a comment. Instead, he just unwraps his arm from around Visenya and offers it to her, which she gladly does.  

Ben smiles at the two; if Visenya and Aemond can make it through everything going on, then he and Helaena may have a chance.  

“Ao ȳdra daor emagon naejot gaomagon bisa,” Aemond whispers to Visenya as they leave their room.  He knows she never wanted to be queen but also hates the public gatherings that come with being part of the royal family.  

You don’t have to do this. 

“Skoro syt? Gaomagon jaelā naejot se pāletilla?”  Visenya asks, a smile on her face telling him that her words don’t have any mean intent behind them.  

Why? Do you want to wear the crown?

Visenya keeps her eyes forward as they walk, trained on Ben's head because if she were to look at Aemond, then she wouldn’t be able to make little jokes but instead tell him the truth about how she doesn’t want this.  

“Nyke ȳdra daor pendagon kessa ñuha bartos,” Aemond answers.  

I don’t think it would fit my head. 

– – 

Rob had worked hard in making the ruined hall of Harrenhal look presentable, fit for a royal coronation.  The hall is no Dragonpit but is far nicer than the funeral grounds of Dragonstone.  Rob had also gained the help of Corlys, who gladly gave his service.  Rob had luckily found a few remnants of the few objects from the naming of King Jaehaerys heir.  

The hall has been lit by many candles and roaring fires around the room; Rob is also glad that the weather cooperates with them.  No rain, no wind, just clear skies and a warm breeze.  

Visenya had kept her head high when she and Aemond entered the hall, wanting to appear strong, but in reality, she hasn’t felt these nerves since her wedding day.  She could feel everyone's eyes on her, lords, knights, soldiers, and just the people of the Riverlands staring at her.  They all want her to do this, but she can’t help but feel like her grandsire is going to pop out of nowhere and yell at her for doing this like she was stealing lemon cakes from the kitchen when she was younger.  

And as she kneels before Rob, her eyes closed as she keeps her breath steady; all she can feel is the burning stares on her back.  She fears that if she opens her eyes, she will back out of this or make eye contact with the Velaryon.  

Rob can’t help but look at Visenya with worry, giving Aemond a glance to see if they should continue.  The soon-to-be King Consort nods for Rob to continue.   Rob wiping his hands on his pants to clear them of any sweat.  

Rob doesn’t think he could be any prouder of something than he is the crown. The crown is simple, unlike the one that Aegon or Rhaenyra wears now.  Instead of being the same shape as the two crowns, more elegant and fitting to Visenya.  Black metal that twists up to match almost horns, a smaller pair sitting slightly under the larger one.  Both pieces came to meet at a point that would hopefully rest in the middle of Visenyas forehead.   A piece of the red gem from Visenya's sword meets the two pieces.  

Rob had put thought into the crown; he knows that she takes pride in the things she had made for herself.  The two metal-like horns represent her two dragons, and the gem is from the sword she has had with her through everything.     

The crown is light in his hands, reminding him of Visenya's sword.   The hand turns to hold the crown up above his head and towards the crowd.  The words that Corlys had told him repeat in his head; he doesn’t want to be the one to fuck this up. 

“I now proclaim Visenya of House Targaryen, second of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men.  Protector of the Seven Kingdoms!” Rob shouts, his words echoing around the hall, and he moves and places the crown on Visenya's head.   “The Dróttning’daishar!”

Visenya finally opens her eyes and looks towards Rob, slightly asking her friends if she can stand up now.  The crown is heavy on her head, and she wishes she knew what it looks like.  Rob holds his hand out towards Visenya, smiling as she places her own in his.  Rob helps her help and lifts her hand in the air.  

“Long may she reign!” Rob tells the crowd he prays that the hall repeats his words or else it would be a little embarrassing.  

Visenya looks towards Rob before towards the crowd.  She doesn’t want to say anything but the way that Rob holds her hand up is doing nothing but shoot pain through her.  

“Long may she reign!” The room repeats, once and then again and again. 

The crown. 

Taglist: If you wish to be added to taglist please comment so!

@kassies-take @tempt-ress​

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Prince Daemon did not want children with Lady Rhea Royce, but the only thing resentment and anger create when mixed with wine is regret and problems to be ignored when they cannot suit a need. Unfortunately for him, problems cannot be ignored forever, and all three heads of the dragon he created will turn back to bite their father. Prev | Fic Art | Family Tree | Pinterest | Next Taglist below the cut, ask or DM to be added or removed

Break The Wheel

It felt like crashing hard onto the ground without anything shattering. Waking up after sharing dreams with The Cannibal was almost offensive–he was bound to the ground and his body was too small, the wings he was supposed to have replaced with arms and hands that felt so ineffectual in those first moments. Yorick groaned, and when he rolled over his arm flopped against something more solid than the bed.

His younger brother let out a muffled cry before pushing Yorick’s arm off of his face. Aemon sat up and glowered down at him, earning an undignified snort. He shoved him in the shoulder, but when Yorick sat up as well and gently tousled his hair, Aemon’s face relaxed.

“Sorry about almost smothering you,” he chuckled, “I forgot you had a bad dream last night.”

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@fyeahhotdocs @fyeahgotocs @ocappreciation @paaperfloweeers @emilykaldwen @astrid2024

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Flesh and Blood

Part 5: Feast Day

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3   | Part 4

Pairing: Prince Aemon the Dragonknight x Fem. Reader (Northerner /House Stark | Third Person POV)

Themes: Some angst

Warnings: References to canon Targcestuous marriages (Daena and Baelor) | Mentions of war, death and PTSD | Kissing

Word count: 3.4K words.

Summary: It is the feast of the warrior, and y/n must attend along with the rest of the Royal Family. 

Minors DNI | 18+

Rules and tag form can be found here.  

The sun had not yet risen when they made their way to the Royal Sept. 

Aemon had come in a carriage long before dawn prayers. He insisted on escorting y/n back to the Red Keep. Y/n took great care with her dress. Today was not just an important day. It was a sacred day, even if the significance of it meant little to her.  

The Feast of the Warrior, Aemon called it, was a day dedicated to the Warrior aspect of the Seven Who Are One. Battle-seasoned warriors would give thanks to him. Those who had lost loved ones to war would ask him to bring peace and comfort to those who were slain and to judge their souls favorably. Those who took orders as household guards and new knights and members of the Gold Cloaks would be anointed. Y/n smoothed the skirt of her dress. Gold and red were the colors of the day, and gold and red were the colors of her garments. Her skin prickled. When she turned to face her husband, she found him watching her. 

The look in his eyes gave her pause. It was the same look she caught sight of the evening she walked out of the water, and it was the same look she had been seeing every day after that. Every time Aemon called on her, his eyes would darken whenever he glanced at her. Sometimes, she found warmth in them. Other times, hunger. Other times, they would follow her every move. Y/n looked away before turning to Aemon again. His eyes had darkened even now. They seemed to travel the length of her, studying her intensely.

She flushed and went over her damask dress. The bodice clung to her, revealing as much as it concealed, and left her completely bare-shouldered. Dagged sleeves that nearly kissed the floor when she walked had been slashed down the side, exposing her arms. Y/n looked at her husband again, thinking the dress was too daring for a prayer service. It was the only red and gold dress she had; she did not consider having another dress made.

"Is this too revealing for the Sept, my lord?" she blurted out. 

"No," Aemon assured her. His voice was oddly hoarse and thick. "It is not. And you look glorious, truly."

Y/n managed a shy smile before turning to look out the window. There were red and gold pennants everywhere, dimly lit by nearby torches. Roads had been cleaned, and the tourney grounds made ready for the races that would come after the service. Everyone had been heading towards the nearest Sept. Some were warriors with salt and pepper hair. Others looked very young and were accompanied by proud families. Others still had no warrior with them. Their offerings had black ribbons fluttering in the wind. 

Widows, thought y/n. Fatherless children. Sisters, grieving for their brothers. Mothers and fathers and friends remembering someone who had fallen in battle.

A hand calloused and hardened by years of sword use rested over hers, startling her. 

"I... would like to be called husband," Aemon insisted, not unkindly. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Please." 

It confused her. Aemon had never asked such a thing of her before, even after he started addressing her as wife. He never asked her to call him husband, not when he called on her the day before, or the day before that. She kept her eyes trained on her lap, uncertain what to say. Aemon squeezed her hand again, as gently as before. She glanced up at him. There was tenderness in those beautiful eyes of his. And anticipation. He was waiting for an answer. 

"If it would please you," she mumbled after remembering her courtesies. "I will call you that."

His lips tugged at the corners. "It would please me to make you happy, wife." 

He turned to look out the window, his hand still over hers. Y/n's mind was a roil. Aemon had been more open with her. He confided in her about his parents, about the struggles they faced when their mother left them and returned to Lys. He listened to her when she talked of her home, and her family, asking countless questions about them all. He had been less formal with her and always sought out her company. He was not the cold man she thought she had married. Still, she kept her guard, wary of saying too much to him. 

The carriage lurched when they pulled to a stop. Y/n heard someone shout orders and the groan and clank of heavy chains; the portcullis was being drawn up. The horses whinnied and moved forward again. By the time they reached the Royal Sept, the sky was already lit with a faint tinge of golden yellow. Aemon got out first and offered his arm. Y/n let him help her out of the carriage and lead her across the middle bailey. The air was still and cold and fragrant with the scent of late summer blooms. Y/n would have stopped to admire the new buds of golden and crimson roses had the bells not chimed the hour. 

"Come," Aemon urged, "we must hurry."

She let him lead the way inside. Most of the court had already found their places. Aemon escorted her to a place by his father. Visery rose and moved to the side so y/n could sit at the end. 

The Sept was aglow with the light of dozens, if not hundreds, of red and yellow candles. A garland of red and golden roses had been draped around the neck of the Warrior. Y/n studied the likeness, the armor and plumed helm, the golden shield. The sculpture looked supple and almost lifelike. She could not help but admire the skill it took to draw such beauty out of cold marble.

"It took nearly a year to sculpt that," Viserys said. "Beautiful, is it not?"

"It is," y/n agreed, "and Aemon tells me the king has plans to commission the building of a larger Sept in the city?" 

Viserys moved over to her. Aemon went to speak to Lord Commander Hardyng and the new Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks. 

"He is," Viserys conceded gravely, "but such a scheme is years into the future. Pray how are your kin? Aemon tells me they all stay in a manse near Starlight Cove."

"They are well, my lord." Y/n glanced at Aemon. He was walking towards them, the new Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks in hand. "Although... they are not all that happy with the weather."

Viserys snorted, though not derisively. "I remember the North. Even the hottest summer day can be cold, but I hope they are comfortable. I also hope they will be staying until the coronation."

"Yes," y/n replied, smiling when she remembered her cousins talking about their new clothes and what they expected to happen. "They look forward to it, they tell me. The hunt too."

"Good, good. I..." Viserys was interrupted when Aemon reached them.

"My pardons, father," he said, "but I would like to introduce y/n to someone."

"Of course." Viserys rose with y/n. Aemon urged the new Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks forward.

"My lady," he said, "I would like you to meet Ser Brynden Flowers, the new Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks."

"My lord," Y/n smiled and held out her hand, as was the custom in the south. Brynden did not hesitate to take it and raise it to his lips. He flashed her a gap-toothed grin afterward.

"My lady," he said, standing straight. "Your husband has spoken a great deal of you. I trust you will be joining us after the service."

The feast in the Red Keep barracks to honor new recruits. The Royal family was expected to attend. 

"Of course," y/n replied. "Will you be joining the procession to the main square?"

"I fear I must," he said, flashing his grin again. "The commons will expect a show."

"Yes. The races," Viserys joined in. "I hear you put your name down as well."

All conversation died when the doors opened, and a Septon walked in, calling for their attention. "The king and queen will join us now," he said. "Please stand for the procession."

Brynden made his excuses and left. He had to be part of the procession. Everyone found their places and stood to attention.

First came two novice septas holding golden censers, swinging to and fro on chains. The air was soon filled with a fragrant haze. Then came the High Septon, garbed in robes of fine white silk and a magnificent crown of spun gold and crystal. A riot of color flashed and shimmered every time the crystal caught the light. Behind him was the Grand Maester, his ponderous chain of office clinking with every step he took. 

Next came the Lord Commander of the King's Guard. A simple pin of red and silver broke the chilling white of his raiment. Brynden followed, the gold of his cloak gleaming. After them came the princesses. Rhaena and Elaena had been paired off with two young lords. 

"Their intended husbands," Aemond leaned in and whispered. "Rhaena is with Edgar Redwyne, and Elaena is with Trystane Martell."

Young lord Edgar seemed pleased with his intended. And she with him. They would steal glances at each other before blushing and looking the other way. Trystane, on the other hand, was bolder. He would lean in and whisper something. Eleana would struggle to hide a snort. 

Last came the king and queen. Y/n could not imagine a more mismatched couple. Baelor was dressed in simple gray robes. He wore no crown and bore no ring of office. There was nothing about his person that was kingly or regal. Daena, on the other hand, was radiant. She was a vision in red silk slashed with cloth of gold. Gold and rubies glinted around her wrists and fingers and throat. Visenya's diadem gleamed amidst her hair. They moved right to the front, to the seats of high honor. After they took their places, the service began. 

Y/n tried to follow as much as she could. The service was beautiful; she could not deny that. Still, it all felt strange to her. These were not her gods. Her gods had no names and needed no statues. They were in the earth she walked on, in the very air she breathed, and she had to forsake them when she wed her husband. She sighed, her heart filling with sadness. Her skin prickled again. When she glanced up at her husband, she found him looking at her. Y/n smiled and turned her attention back to the High Septon. She listened while he led the prayers and offerings and when they gave thanks to the Warrior. Before long, she found herself outside the steps, waiting for her husband. Aemon said his farewells before joining her.

"What troubles you?" he said gently. 

Y/n merely shook her head. "Nothing, my lor..." She remembered what Aemon asked of her: not to address him as my lord. "Husband. I am just a little tired, that is all." 

Aemon studied her intently. "You can talk to me, wife," he said, looking around. He led her to the Godswood, where they could talk more freely. "I will not be angry." 

Y/n was uncertain and refused to speak, fearful of what he might say. Aemon led her to the shade of a Wierwood tree, one that was gifted to the Conqueror after the North bent the knee. 

"Talk to me." Aemon caressed her cheek with one hand and moved closer. He was so close that if he leaned in, he would kiss her. "Pull those walls of yours down and talk to me. Please."

Y/n sighed. She glanced at the wierwood tree, its white bark, and its blood-red leaves. They rustled when the wind blew through them. A voice called to her, one that was warm and familiar and distant. Her very soul was being pulled to it, to memories of her home, of running through ancient forests and snow crunching beneath her feet. She reached out and touched the bone-white bark with the flat of her palm. The tree groaned all on its own and she could have sworn the sweet scent of winter roses and pine and dark earth and cold wintery winds hung in the air. One breath. That was all she was given. One deep breath and the smell of home was gone, leaving nothing but an empty void behind. Tears came unbiased and y/n understood what it all meant. She was being told to remember she was of the North, and of the blood of the First Men.

"I want to keep to the old Gods," she replied even as her husband wiped her eyes. "Not to the Seven. I have tried husband. I really tried, but my soul will not accept them. I... I am sorry."

Aemon said nothing. Y/n thought she had angered him. The Godswood was eerily quiet. It felt as if a thousand eyes were watching them. Y/n wanted her husband to say something, anything. His silence was maddening. She wanted to shake him, to scream. Finally, he raised her hand to his lips.

"You can pray to the old gods, if that is your wish," he swore. "I just want you to be happy."

"Are you lying to me?" She asked, suddenly fearful. For all she knew, this could have been a ploy to keep her and the North bound to the crown. 

"I am not lying to you, my sweet wife," Aemon promised. "I never have. I hope I never will." 

Y/n looked at him. Aemon was watching and waiting. His gaze drifted to her lips. The leaves of nearby trees rustled again, and the world around them quietened. Y/n neither heard the waves roaring and crashing against the cliffs nor the cry of birds. She inhaled deeply, her lips slightly parting. Aemon closed his eyes and leaned in.

His kiss started out clumsy and hesitant before morphing into something soft and languid. Y/n felt, more than heard, his breath hitching. She sighed and melted, yielding to him slowly. Her hands brushed against the wisps of his hair. She felt the tips of his fingers on her cheeks. Y/n had hungered for this—a kiss that was sweet and worshipful, one that she had only ever experienced in her dreams, one that tasted nothing like duty. She shivered when Aemon moaned and slipped his arms around her waist. His hands brushed up her spine, his fingers trembling over her skin. She whimpered tremulously.

He pulled her even closer, as if coming undone by the sounds of her pleasure. He kissed along her jaw, the span of her throat. His tongue skimmed over the soft curve of her neck. Y/n slipped her arms around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into his tunic. The hold around her waist tightened and stoked the fire growing in her belly. Fear rose within her, lashing at her like a new coil. Was this all just a dream? Was she going to open her eyes and find herself alone in a cold bed? Or was it real? Would Aemon pull away, claiming he did not wish to sin? She did not know what to do or even say, fearful of doing anything that could break the spell that wove itself around them. 

The next kiss put an end to worrying thoughts. Aemon’s mouth sought hers again with a kiss that was heated and consuming. His breath was ragged like he had been running hard and fast for hours. "My sweet wife," he whispered with each kiss. "My sweet, beautiful wife."

He did not stop. His kiss grew hungry and deep, his touch frantic and demanding. Y/n found herself being pulled along with him. When she opened her eyes she found him guiding her to the tower she once called home. Her blood heated. She whispered his name. He trembled and pressed against her, his hands delving into her hair.

It had to end. The spell that overcame them crumbled when nearby bells chimed the hour. Aemon pulled away slowly and reluctantly, his eyes clouded with the sweet haze of bliss. "We must go back," he whispered huskily. "Lest someone comes here and finds us."

They stayed there, composing themselves and setting themselves to rights before returning. No one noticed anything out of the ordinary. If they had, they said nothing. 

The barracks feast was splendid. They broke their fast on freshly baked bread and honey cakes, tiny salted fish roasted to crackling, gammon steaks and bacon, and the choicest fruits of the season, with pitchers of milk and cold barley tea and water to wash it all down. Members of the Gold Cloaks picked up instruments, often breaking into singing. Elaena would shout out the names of bawdy songs. Trystane and Edgar tried to sing them, and failed. Most of them laughed, even Viserys. Baelor, utterly red in the face, rose and made his excuses. He would have said more had his uncle not given him a look of warning. The king returned to the Sept to pray. 

The rest of the day passed like a beautiful dream. Y/n joined the others to watch the procession to the main square. She went with the others to watch the races and a boxing match. Aemon had been thoughtful and attentive, rarely leaving her side. 

He did not kiss her again. They did not have enough time alone to do that. She felt his attention in other ways. His arm would go around her waist one moment, and his hand would rest against the small of her back the next. He would blush whenever she smiled at him. Sometimes, y/n would feel the callused pads of his fingers tracing lazy lines over the back of her hand whenever they sat. Her skin would soon warm. Aemon would reward her with a shy smile. 

That too, had to end. The day came to a close. Y/n did not mind. She had drunk deeply on the magic of the day. Aemon brought her home, sitting as close to her as possible in the carriage. There could be no private moments here either. The curtains were too sheer, and anyone who peered in could see. They talked instead, with y/n asking about Dorne, the war, and how her father fought.

"He was one of the bravest men I had ever met," Aemon said truthfully. "He saved Daeron's life once. My brother's more than once. He talked of your mother, of you, and of your sister. He even spoke highly of Uther. Your father was proud of all of you, you must know that."

Y/n felt a flush of pride. "Uther wants to join my grandfather's household guard. My aunt and uncle have said yes, but Uther said it was hard for them to do so."

"I cannot blame them," Aemon said. He reached over and curled his fingers in her hair. "War is an ugly and dreadful business," he confided. "The singers will wax poetic about gallant deeds and handsome warriors fighting bravely, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. You do not hear of the side that is less than poetic, the one where the air reeks of blood and worse, how even hardened men fall to the mud, crying for their mothers. Or how they all soil themselves before they die. The singers do not speak of those things in the songs."

It was his thousand-yard stare that gave her pause. Aemon was not seeing her. His gaze was fixed somewhere else, seeing something she could not. Y/n hesitantly reached up and cupped his cheek.

"Husband?" She whispered. "What do you see?"

Aemon sighed and shook his head, his gaze turning to her. "A distant battlefield, wife. My horse dying after taking a spear. Me roasting underneath my armor. Some Dornish lordling rushing at me, sword drawn, thinking he could finish me off with a single blow." He laughed bitterly, his purple eyes ablaze with anger. "He was wrong."

Y/n pulled her hand away, afraid. "I am so sorry."

Aemon glanced at her, the anger in his eyes dying instantly. He took her hands into his and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Never fear me, wife. I will not hurt you."

Y/n nodded, sighing when he took her into his arms and kissed her chastely. 

The rest of the journey passed in blissful silence. Aemon did not talk after that. He preferred to hold y/n to him instead, and playing with her hair. They found the Manse silent upon their arrival. The others had gone to the beach for a picnic. Y/n invited Aemon to join them. 

"I fear I cannot," he replied, albeit reluctantly. "I must help Hardyng with preparations for the hunt. We need to have everything ready before we leave on the morrow."

The hunt. Y/n had all but forgotten about it. They would have to depart on the morrow as well. "Of course."

Aemon looked around. They were alone for the present. "I was hoping you could stay with me, in my tent. Not because I want to claim my rights as a husband... I... I just want to be near you."

Y/n was startled by the request. She felt dizzy. To share the same featherbed with Aemon all night because he wanted to, and not for the sake of duty. A flush crept into her cheeks. When she glanced at him, she found hope and fear warring in his eyes.

He wants me to say yes, she thought. He actually wants me to say yes.

The hunt would go on for three days, four at the most. There was no harm in it, no one could say anything against it. They were husband and wife, after all. 

"Yes," y/n replied, blushing when Aemon kissed her. "I will stay with you during the hunt."

tags: @immyowndefender​

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Presentation for futur request : here

Ao3 profile here : Earenwen_Leafwhisper

Daemon :

Ø "Breathe, everything will be fine"

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Ø  A tragédie

Ø He's first and only love / Part 2 / Part 3 / Alternat Final

Ø The prince of her heart / Incertitudes

Ø Sleeping beauty

Ø Not wanted (teaser) / Not wanted (part 1) / Not wanted part 2 / Not wanted part 3

Request :

Ø  Early evening (smut)

Ø He's sweet flower (Tyrell reader)

Ø Dragon and sun (Martell reader)

Ø Life in Dorne (Martell reader)

Ø Daemon x Dornish ex courtesan reader

Ø Marital life of Daemon and Martell reader

Aemond :

Ø Cinderella / Prewiew

Request :

Ø Aemond being smitten by his futur wife

Aegon :

The tavern girl

Request :

Maegor The cruel :

Ø Nsfw Alphabet

Imagine:

Ø Good to be king

Multy Targaryen :

Ø Arachnophobe

Ø Opera

Not fiction :

Tag game