#aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spectorcomplex · 1 year

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love and war ↝ aemond targaryen x reader

you treat marriage as if it is war. who’s to say it’s not?

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!velaryon!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: cursing, targcest, reader is rhaenyra and laenor’s daughter but there are no physical descriptions. my first hotd fic pls be kind

word count: 5k words

my masterlist

You should be mourning. Truth be told, you were— an aching sadness that left you hollow as the adults paced around the room, grief heavy in the air with the loss of your Grandfather, the King. But the fear swirling in your gut overpowered sadness.

You were not oblivious to the opinions of the court, even if you yourself were not involved in it as much. Your mother’s rule has been challenged enough even when the King was alive and now the long awaited storm brewing from before might finally arrive to blow your family over.

Your mother is a strong woman, a true protector of the realm, but as you glance over at where she is stood by a window next to Alicent Hightower as they engage in a hushed conversation, you know that everyone, even her, is nervous for how the kingdoms may react to a woman ascending the Iron Throne.

She sent you and your brothers to your chambers after the funeral, heavy lidded and shoulders drooped, unfit for a royal, but she was not the Queen in that moment, but rather a grieving daughter. You hugged her good night and kissed her cheek as you often did as a child in her arms.

Sleep did not come to you yet and a history book written in High Valyrian kept you company. Until a knock echoed.

“Princess? I’m sorry to wake you but the Prince Daemon requests your presence,” The voice came from the guard stationed outside your door.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It was too late in the night and what would your step-father want from you at this hour?

Thankfully you had not changed into your night dress yet, still clad in your funeral attire, a high-neck black dress that had faint embroideries of dragons on the hem of the floor length skirt. Your heart grew heavy as you remembered the tales from your childhood when Viserys had time to indulge your requests in knowing more about Balerion.

The guard escorted you to the council chamber and you finally had a sense that this was an emergency meeting regarding the Crown.

“Sister,” Jace greeted you by the door. You glanced behind him to see your mother seated at the head of the table with a glum expression.

The sight of Queen Alicent in the room was no surprise to you, she was constantly in the presence of your family after she and your mother had rekindled their friendship. What did catch you off guard was the presence of her son, your uncle, Aemond. He was the only one of Viserys’ other children present in the room.

You wondered if Aemond too was feeling grief for his father but there he was seated, proper posture and a stoic face, the candlelight casting a sharp shadow over his features. The complete opposite of your plump cheeked younger brother Lucerys, who was slouched and yawning in his seat.

Jacaerys helped you into your seat and looked equally unnerved as you, though you were not sure if the reasons are the same.

Daemon entered after a few minutes of silence. You noted that only family was present in this room.

“Daemon, what is this about?” Your mother asked with a sigh.

“The coronation is tomorrow,” Daemon began to explain but your older brother interrupted with a scowl on his face.

“Exactly, which is why the Queen needs to be well rested for the ceremony,” Jace had been standing up to your step-father a lot more recently and you admired his ferocity.

Daemon glared back, “There’s already whispers. Unsatisfied, doubtful, craven Lords who may not fully cooperate in this reign.”

You could only frown. This exact scenario was what plagued your thoughts ever since you learned of the King’s passing. No one expects the passing of succession to go smoothly, but to be interrupted so soon?

There was a purpose as to why Daemon called this meeting; why only family was present. You racked your brain as to think of a way to help but none came to mind. You were a second child whose influence came in the form of what your dresses looked like instead of what you have to say.

“We need allies.”

All eyes turned to look at Aemond. His voice made it clear that he was speaking a matter of fact.

Your step-father looked hesitant to address the younger prince but this was no time for revisiting petty prejudices of the past.

“Precisely,” Daemon nodded. “And if I recall correctly, you’re already in the talks of a marriage pact to Storm’s End. We would have sent dear Y/N but there are no sons there to vie for her hand.”

The first part of his sentence went over your head as your nose flared in offense. “Is this why I was summoned here? To be shipped off to spend the rest of my life being miserable with some stupid Lord?”

“Watch your mouth,” Your mother finally spoke, though her words were not what you hoped for. You looked at her in despair and you were met with pity.

“I get to have a say how my life goes,” You stand up, furious. “I am a princess of this realm!”

“This realm you speak of will descend into chaos if you refuse to help your mother.”

His words were carefully curated, constructed together to hit the tender spot in your heart reserved for your mother. You were already defeated in the matter of your liberty despite your stubbornness to pursue an argument.

“I can help in other ways,” You said.

“How? By the way of the sword?” Daemon’s nature was to always pick a fight and even his children were of no exception.

“No need for violence all the time,” You match his scoff. “Diplomacy is an option and—“

“And diplomacy is to secure good relations with others, like marriage,” His tone was nearing a growl and you did not want the already exhaustive night to take a turn for the worse.

“Alright,” You clenched your jaw. “For my mother—for my Queen.”

You looked at her, a glint of what you hoped was admiration shining in her eyes. She mouthed a thank you.

Curious eyes followed you as you approached a guard stationed by the door. He nodded at your request and quickly returned to you with the item at hand.

You unfurled the map of Westeros on the table.

“Only if I get to choose which Lord I will be betrothed to,” You said. “It must be a very strategic alliance that will greatly benefit the Crown if it will cost me whatever joy I have left in this life.”

As everyone peered at the inky outlines of the seven Kingdoms, a rogue stare strayed from the map and settled on you.

“You look ready for battle, my Princess.”

Your uncle’s whispered quip startled you so much that a breathy laughter escaped your lips. His sour relationship with your brothers had strained your own relationship with him. As children you would even play games of chasing each other when your respective lessons were done for the day. A few hearty laughs were shared if you saw Aegon stumble down a set of stairs, both too young and naive to know about the sensation of drunkenness.

But now, years after the incident that forever changed the dynamics within the family, he seemed like a stranger. The boy you knew was gone and in his place stood a man with the mind of a scholar and the skills of a knight. You swallowed as your gaze met his.

“Is marriage not war, my Prince?”

His lips raised imperceptibly but you caught it. Though, you wish you hadn’t as your heart defied logic and started to race.

“Well?” Daemon’s voice sliced through the tension and even if he was irritating you, you were relieved for the interruption.

Your nimble finger pointed south. “There is a Martell son. Though they would see right through us if I was offered up to him. But if they did choose to look past that, we may even have the chance of strengthening the bond with Sunspear.”

“Wait-wait,” Alicent spoke, her motherly gaze meeting yours. “No need to treat this as if it were the Stepstones, sweet girl. We can arrange a tour and maybe a love match may—“

“With all due respect, Your Grace, but a tour requires weeks of planning for travel on all parties,” You gave her a grateful smile. “We do not have the privilege of time on our side regarding this matter.”

You were not the closest to Queen Alicent after all these years of animosity, but you could tell she was trying and these were her true colors that your mother cared for when they were young.

“And a love match is—“ You frowned. Even if marriage had always been a distant thought in your mind, you had always hoped that you would marry the one you love. But having that in this world is much rarer than dragons who breathe blue fire.

“A love match is not possible,” You breathed out. You cast a glance at Daemon, who was nodding in approval. You were on the path of making right decisions until your eyes landed on Aemond across from you and the mistake was letting his already-there stare have feelings rise within you.

You only shook your head before pointing back at the map.

“This one also seems feasible,” You say as you circled the shape of an archipelago with your finger.

“The Iron Islands, sister?” Lucerys, who had been awfully quiet for quite some time, finally spoke.

“I’m a Velaryon,” You spoke with pride, though a distant sadness ached at the memory of your late father. “And you, dear brother, are heir to Driftmark. Our family can have control over the great fleets in both seas surrounding Westeros.”

Mumbles of approval filled the air and you thought that, this is it, you’ll officially be surrendering to the water in which you came from.

“A Greyjoy?”

Prince Aemond is awfully opinionated tonight, it seems, and your fatigue was morphing into irritation.

“Is there a problem with them, my son?” Alicent asked.

Aemond scoffed, “The only eligible one for the Princess Y/N to marry is skilled at sea but useless on land.”

“What seems to be the problem with that?” You asked, always having had admiration for the skills it requires to be great in ships. Traces of the fond memories of your father and grandfather’s lessons.

But even if you were the one that spoke, Aemond refused to look at you. His gaze even seemed directed at your parents.

“The Greyjoy son is even more bunglesome than the lowliest tourney knight,” Aemond explained, voice cool and turned your temper to flare. “How will he protect his wife? With a knotted rope perhaps.”

And the most unexpected happened, both your brothers laughed at the remark. It was a sight from your childhood years that you never thought you’d get to see again. You elbow Jacaery’s side.

“As much as I would hate to agree with him,” Jace whispers in your ear. “He does not lie, sister. I’ve sparred with the Greyjoy boy before.”

“Well,” Your mother spoke, voice commanding the attention of the room. “We keep our options open.”

You sigh quietly, eyes starting to droop and eager to get this meeting over with. But you were determined to secure a stable turnover from King Viserys to Queen Rhaenyra.

“Alright,” You cleared your throat, feeling warmth slowly flood your cheeks as your finger pointed upwards of the map. “The North.”

“Not just the North, I think,” Lucerys piped in, a familiar mirth in his eyes. “You want to be Lady of Winterfell.”

“I do not!” You really wish you had composed yourself instead of succumbing to your sibling’s teasing because now all attention is on you. Except one, as you see in your periphery.

“Cregan Stark,” Daemon hummed in contemplation. “Not an awful choice.”

That’s basically a seal of approval coming from him.

“There’s no sense to a marriage pact with them. Northerners are honorable people, they won’t break faith to Rhaenyra even in doubtful times,” Alicent offered.

The conversation was slipping from your control and you need to grasp it back for this was your freedom as a woman at stake.

“Still wouldn’t hurt to have the largest region in Westeros, your Grace,” You said. “Plus, he is Jacaerys’ friend and I’ve met Cregan on quite a few occasions. He is… a gentleman.”

“You think he’s handsome.”

Oh, you were definitely going to smother your brothers in their sleeps tonight.

“He is smart,” You backtracked, the same rogue stare from earlier now back on you and burrowing deeper under your skin. “Already groomed to rule over his lands.”

“Alright, we start with the Starks,” Your mother said, the back of her hand rubbing over an eye. “His father will be at the coronation and if we’re lucky, Cregan will also be. But for tonight, we will all get rest.”

That would probably be your favorite order from the Queen.

“I am to fly to Storm’s End the day after tomorrow,” Aemond’s deep voice was like the thunder in the place he was to visit. “Your Grace.”

To anybody else, they would not be able to catch the subtle look of surprise on your mother’s face, but you could tell because you were probably mirroring her right now. Your uncle Aemond’s disdain for your side of the family had never been in question. To address your mother like that even if he’s made it so perfectly clear that the inheritance should pass onto Viserys’ sons was worthy of suspicion.

“Alright…” You saw your mother hesitate, “Brother. Good night, my family.”

That last interaction was what made you so sleepy at the celebration after your mother’s coronation for it kept you up the night before. You were restless after the cordiality your family presented each other and every now and then you think you’re a fool for hoping it would last for a long time.

But you were lying to yourself. You knew damn well the presence of Prince Aemond was what had you twisting and turning in your sheets. Your annoyance towards his incessant need to tap his fingers on the table, smug smirks, and opinions on your future marriage was a way to cope with the wave of nostalgia you felt every time you cast a glance at him.

Aemond had always known how the royal family is above others, even back when he still had both eyes and a childish grin. His words tonight reminded you of the time when you were seven and Aemond nearly growled at the Baker’s son who gave you a plucked flower from outside the castle.

You however found sleep after a few tears dropped at the loss of those innocent days, letting go of the prospect of Valyrian Dragonglass and finding marriage in another House.

—+—

Some Lords were confused at the serious faces of House Targaryen. Most of them were rowdily whooping and clapping after the coronation. But being a royal of this realm meant you had to be smart in assessing a massive gathering of all the nobility in Westeros.

Daemon had reminded the family in the morning to be wary of the doubtful Lords he had mentioned the night before.

You all had a better look at the attendees at the celebratory feast Alicent insisted on having in order to ‘lighten spirits.’ To no one’s surprise, the Martell son was nowhere in sight.

You sighed from your place at the table that was raised on the dais, overlooking all the nobility starting the night with wine filled cups. You grimaced as you heard your Uncle Aegon’s slurred words start already.

The poor dress that was custom made for you is currently suffering from scratch marks from your anxious fingers. The Greyjoy table was full of men who looked older than your own parents and the aforementioned weakling in swordsmanship is nowhere to be seen.

“Good eve, Princess Y/N. You look beautiful tonight.”

You startle as you see the Greyjoy you were looking for by the other end of the table.

“Just tonight, Sir Rickon?” You jest like old friends even though you knew nothing but his name and status.

He didn’t seem to think you meant no harm as he started stuttering, “No-I- you look beautiful all the- I’m terribly sorry.”

“I only jest, my Lord,” You say through gritted teeth and muster a convincing smile. Though your snickering elder brother at your left was seeing right through it.

“Yes, alright,” Rickon clears his throat. “May I dance with you, Princess?”

You sigh, the sound thankfully lost in the noise of the hall, and nod. You grabbed his outstretched hand, calloused and littered with small cuts.

“Have you sailed recently, my Lord?” You asked as the two of you got into position.

Rickon’s face seemed to lighten at this and you put all your Velaryon knowledge to the forefront of your mind.

“It has been two moons since then, Princess, we traveled to King’s Landing by road,” He explained.

That was pretty much the meat of your conversation with Rickon Grayjoy. He was an average dancer and a worse conversationalist. Not good for diplomatic relations.

Dornish wine had never been as appealing to you as it is now. As soon as the music ended, you rushed back to the family table and grabbed a goblet for yourself with enough quickness to even surprise your drunkard Uncle Aegon.

Unbeknownst to you, another uncle was watching warily.

“Slow down, niece,” Aemond’s voice broke through the noise of the hall.

You only roll your eyes and stumble back to the dance floor. Though you do get a sense of deja vu at Aemond’s words.

These were the times in which a listener would find this memory hard to believe to be true. Too fictional to believe— as if it is meant to be a story immortalized on a tapestry. A speck of a memory that is so different from how the Targaryen family is with each other now. But you remember; girlish giggles and scuffs of shoes echoed throughout the stone walls of the Keep.

You were summoned to the Dragonpit to start learning how to command your young dragon. Love for books had nothing against your excitement when Ser Harwin called for your attention. Your Uncle Aemond was in the library with you, equally enamored with his book about dragons of Valyria and you asked him to accompany you as to see the real thing compared to illustrations on paper.

“Slow down, Princess!”

You only snickered at Aemond’s warning. He only had a few years ahead of you and thought his prepubescent voice could scare you into submission.

Despite being born and raised in the Keep, you have not yet developed muscle memory for every crevice in the castle and your foot slipped on a crack in the pavement.

You plummeted to the ground, though your hands reached out to stop your face from colliding with the floor. Tears immediately flooded your eyes as your palms skidded on the gravel, following a sting and warm wetness which was most likely blood, and an ache surged in your twisted ankle. Stubbornness ran thick in Velaryon blood and you refused to cry in front of any of the boys but the pain was too much to hold it back.

‘What did I tell you?’ You expected Aemond to say with a disappointed tut. But he only knelt next to you, brows furrowed as he helped you sit upright and inspecting your bloodied hands.

He had one arm tucked under yours as he patiently helped you walk back to the main grounds of the Red Keep in which he then barked at Ser Criston to fetch a maester to tend to you.

Aemond sat next to you and rested a gentle hand, still free of callouses from handling swords, on your forearm as the maester applied ointment to your scratched palms.

He never told you how much it stung when you didn’t do the same for him on that fateful day in Driftmark.

“Princess.”

The firm voice broke you out of your wine-induced memories.

“Lord Cregan Stark,” You curtsied.

The smile you greeted him with was genuine compared to Lord Greyjoy. Though the conversation from last night put a falter in your grin.

You wanted to see Cregan as a friend, build a relationship on a foundation free of ulterior motives. But the plans made are needed to be put into motion to truly secure Queen Rhaenyra’s reign.

“May I have the pleasure of dancing with you?” He asked and you wordlessly nodded as you felt the warmth flood your cheeks. Though your recollection of that day in your childhood added to the dizziness from the wine.

Cregan was an excellent conversationalist, complimenting your dress and hair and still managed to verge into topics deeper than surface level small talk as you twirled to the music. He would make a good husband, you think. Though your heart dropped for a split second that this would not be a true love match if a wedding was to happen. He would be a good ally.

“Have you caught up with Jacaerys yet?” You inquire, looking him in the eye to keep his attention.

He started to answer enthusiastically and despite how much you complimented him the night before in front of your closest family, you could not fully appreciate Lord Stark and despite trying not to, you found yourself comparing him to the one eyed prince.

“…Like a brother to me,” Cregan finished with a smile.

Your eyes flickered to his mouth before returning to his sparkling brown eyes. He would make a good husband, you repeat in your head. Dark features and lips chapped from the harsh winds of winter.

“That is good to hear,” You nod, switching to diplomatic mode immediately. You had to seal this partnership tonight. “That our families have a bond with each other.”

A look of knowing flickered in Cregan’s eyes, almost as if he knew what you were insinuating or about to propose.

Cregan leaned in, too bold a move for a public dance between a Lord and a Lady, “Yes. A bond.”

Your breath hitched at his actions.

Someone cleared their throat and you nearly jumped in place.

“Lord Stark, would you mind dancing with the Lady Floris Baratheon?”

You huff when you turned in Cregan’s hold and saw Aemond standing there next to the two of you, lips in a fine line. Said Lady Floris was next to him, almost looking defeated. You had to hold the urge of cursing Aemond out. What he said was not an offer but a demand.

Cregan did not look phased but still obeyed the Prince after bowing, “I’d be honored to.”

When the dark haired pair drifted into the rest of the dancing crowd, you scowled at Aemond.

He was not bothered by this and placed a firm hand on your waist. You gulp.

“What are you doing?” You hiss. A defense mechanism to emotions beyond irritation towards the Prince swaying with you.

“Flirting is beneath you, niece,” He says in that low voice of his.

“You know my intentions with Lord Stark and why,” You answer, the grip you have on Aemond’s leather clad shoulders turning tighter in aggression. “And you should be with the Lady Floris to finally get Storm’s End’s approval.”

Aemond only hummed as he spins you out and pulls you back in, “I’d rather pluck my other eye out than to have Borros Baratheon as my father-in-law.”

As if on cue, the raucous laughter of the Lord of Storm’s End echoed in the hall. You both grimace.

“Then who do you wish?” You chuckle, though not lightheartedly. “Daemon?”

You scoff after saying your step father’s name. It was evident how much Aemond idolizes him despite his denial. All from the hair down to the ego.

Your knees weakened when Aemond didn’t look phased by your jab, he even rather looked amused and that was a dangerous thing.

“What are you saying?” He smirks and your blood runs cold when realization crept in.

“I only meant Baela or-“ You stutter.

“Who are both already betrothed to your brothers.”

Damn it! That smug smirk only seemed to grow wider and you swear you growled under your breath. You redirected the conversation.

“You have a choice, I do not,” You start. “I do not understand why you would say yes to a marriage pact when you could just forge an alliance over a goblet of wine.”

That seemed to put Aemond back into his stoic self. Despite the silence, you know he was forming an answer in his head.

“I have to protect my mother.”

Your cold facade melted a little bit. You understood where he was coming from with this.

“I do too,” You answer, making sure your voice was not as confrontational as it was a few seconds ago.

“You do not understand to what extent,” And with this, Aemond completely lets go of you even though the music was still playing.

He leaves you on the dance floor and you hate how it left you with a tinge of sadness.

But like children, you follow after him to pester more about his thoughts. This was how it was back then, you knew Aemond had the tendency to conceal his words but with a little push, he’d spill. Hopefully it will still work.

You follow him to the dark corners of the hall, ignoring the inquisitive stares of the others.

“Then make me understand,” You say. “Aemond.”

He only stops at the soft whisper of his name. Though he keeps his back to you, this does not deter you from moving closer. You knew he felt you, a tenseness in his body that an untrained eye wouldn’t notice. But this was Aemond, you just knew.

“It is not their loyalty to the Crown that is in question. It is their worries that there will be a civil war.”

He let you sit on the words. Aemond never underestimated your intelligence; he may have thrown shallow insults ever since the rift between your side of the family and his but he never doubted your intellect.

You sighed as it hits you. The atmosphere has now changed, yet you both are still players in the big picture. Even as royals, you are pawns in this game and the name one carries assures your survival. The loyalty to Targaryens is undeniable so now, who knows what they will do to a Hightower?

“Viserys is no longer alive, she is not Queen anymore,” He continues.

The son who took up ensuring the family honor. The eldest was never to be relied on and Aemond had made sure to be the child that would protect his mother. Rhaenyra was lucky to get sons and a daughter that will put her honor in mind before they act but the former Queen was not afforded that luxury.

Alicent was never the warmest towards your family, but she was faithful to duty and did her best to ensure the family survives especially in the final days leading to her husband’s death. Even through conspiracies and whispers, she focused on keeping her children well without subconsciously excluding you and your brothers.

This is what Daemon was pushing you for. Duty. To do right by your house and protect it to the death. You understand now.

Aemond is not the type to believe in baseless rumors. He approaches the thoughts of those fellow politics with a clear head and if this is what he deems as important then you’ll defy your side’s expectations and stand with him.

“We are Hightower and Velaryon,” You say. “But most importantly we are both made of fire and blood.”

He turns to you then. Once again, torches illuminating intimidating features. Lilac eye glowers at you but you stand ground. Like you said, the same magic swirls in both your veins.

“I understand,” You continue in his silence. “I understand what we need to do whatever it takes for the blood of Old Valyria to endure.”

Alliances with other regions would be great, but if Aemond’s word was to be trusted you know that it is not enough. Banners will be raised behind two women who have no intention of fighting because of men’s beliefs. You will not let this tempest sink your family under.

In order to protect the most important people in your life, enemies must be slain. A marriage bound by love is a rare gift— but a marriage for duty is a weapon.

Aemond shakes his head at you and despite the pull, you resist from having your shoulders drop in defeat. Your mother may have been called the realm’s delight as a little girl but she now sits the Iron Throne and it is inevitable for her to be called a cunt by those who refuses her reign.

“I know what must be done,” You take a step forward toward Aemond. This is it, he could either make or break a pact that will ensure House Targaryen’s stability and hold on the realm. The tension between these stone walls could rattle a dragon. But never the two of you. “Do you?”

“You know damn well,” Aemond whispers. You’d be a fool to deny how he’d look at your lips just then.

You raise your chin, “Pār gūrogon issa naejot zaldrīzesdōron se mazverdagon issa aōha ābrazȳrys.”

Then take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife.

aaaa hope you enjoyed! reblogs and comments are appreciated :) i’m not the biggest expert on asoiaf lore but im really spiraling into learning about it lol but pls feel free to drop a message anytime!

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goldsainz · 1 year

Text

MASTERLIST.

A/N: i swear the best ideas come at the worst hours… i know i said one aemond fic, but you can’t blame me okay, ewan mitchell has a tight grip on me. i was listening to ‘so it goes…’ and then ‘mastermind’ came up, and i just couldn’t resist!!!!! also my request are open, you can check out my navigation to see who i write for [gif cred: @aemondtargaryensource]

WORD COUNT: 2,3k

warnings: titty sucking (look maybe i like that, shut up), loss of virginity

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AND NOW YOU’RE MINE

You were a good girl, the bestest of girls, at least that’s how you tried to appear. Yet Aemond Targaryen was not fooled so easily, so he took it upon himself to unravel the perfection that you were.

There was a plan that had to be followed, he couldn’t be too obvious, too insensitive that it would turn you off. He couldn’t be like his brother, Aegon, that with so much as glance you recoiled from even looking his way. Though he knew it didn’t take much for that reaction to occur.

So, he accompanied you in walks and talked about any type of sweet nothing that fell from your lips. It was the highlight of each of his days, and the darkest times came moments after being with you because he yearned for more of your attention, dare he say, he craved you.

Aemond Targaryen was prepared for every outcome of his plan, except rejection, which would be terrible were he not incredibly perceptive. He could now read you like a book, no matter which language you spoke to him, he was sure the sultry tone you had in just for him would stay. Despite you being incredibly graceful, you were not a naive girl, and he appreciated how well you played the game.

Months of unofficial courting would finally reach their climax on his 19th name day, where he had a special request to be made, a present of sorts. It was superficially innocent, no lewd insinuations were thrown, no matter how easily he could have made one. Aemond knew a princess like you would not stand for them, even when the situation was improper, you needed to control how far you would go, and he let you.

But as you stood in your nightgown in his room, the clock ticking for when his birthday would be, his thoughts only screamed how beautiful you looked, just for him. Your eyes glittered in the moonlight, and he stood in front of you, looking down at you, the height difference making something rumble inside of him.

“Why am I here, Aemond?” You softly said, your breath almost mixing with his, with how close you were.

“Am I not allowed to begin my name day with my favourite person here?” His question was not a lie, but you both knew there was so much more to it than just that.

“Be honest with me, we’re both old enough for such games.” You were, you had to play grown-up games now, and Aemond’s lips slightly turned up at such thought.

“I must admit my intentions are not as proper…” His hand traveled to your forearm, sliding upwards, playing with the cloth that decorated your shoulder, “as anyone would want them to be.”

You turn away from his intense gaze, looking anywhere but at him, finding the pillows on his bed far more interesting.

“If I find myself mistaken with your feelings, please feel free to leave at once.” You sharply look at him, the fire in his face should have made you leave as he offered, but the dragon in you loved fire and wanted to play with it.

In a surge of confidence you moved forward, his chest grazing yours as your lips were mere centimeters of touching if writhe of you moved to connect them. Your breath trembled when his hand came in context with your cheek, feeling helpless as your body instantly melted to his touch.

“If you want me to touch you, Princess, you must ask for it.” Aemond whispered, his thumb caressing your cheek so lovingly you almost surged forward for a kiss of his.

“Just ask and I’m all yours.” I always have been, he wanted to say, but it felt too blunt for the delicate air that flew through the room.

“Aemond, please…”

“Please what?” You almost groaned at the teasing question, but from the look he gave you, you knew better than being bad for him.

“Please, will you kiss me?” No words were needed after you spoke those glorious five words.

Aemond placed his other hand on your other cheek, kissing you without care, sighing into the kiss after months of such yearning. He had waited, he crafted his marvelous plan, and now he could harvest the crops he planted.

The kiss was by no means careful, surely brushing your lips with the force of it, but you couldn’t find yourself to care, it felt too good. He felt too good.

One of his hands traveled to your waist, gripping it tightly to ensure you stayed put while he kissed you, not letting you wiggle away from him, not now that he had you.

The confidence you had, now came back stronger, as you took off the coat he had to prevent the chill of the night. He parted ways from you, swollen lips and heavy breathing made you almost a mirror of the other.

He looked at you, searching your eyes for an unspoken answer for a question you knew was subliminal, nodding ever so slightly, he started to undo the knots in your nightgown, They were simple, soft to the fingers, which made it easier for him to brush your back and feel the shivers that coursed through it.

He started walking towards his bed, softly making you sit by the edge of it, making you raise your arms so he could slip your clothing right off. The sight of your bare tits almost made him cum on the spot, as you gazed up at him, he couldn’t help but harden in his pants, feeling them tighten.

You were left only in your underwear, you felt exposed under the watch of his eye, but comfortable because this was who you trusted most after your immediate family. The feather light touches on your collar bone made your tits perk up more, the cold air not helping the reaction.

He laid you down on the mattress, kissing your shoulder blade, trailing down to your sensitive buds who were almost begging for his attention. Aemond sucked harshly on them, making you whine loudly, to which he had to place his hand over your mouth just to silence you enough to not catch any outsider’s attention.

“Be a good girl for me, stay quiet.” He muttered, his voice muffled by his none relenting sucking on your tits.

You only nodded in response, too overwhelmed by the never felt before sensation, as you tried to adjust to the tingling building on your cunt.

Almost as if he could sense you, Aemond took one of his hands and started rubbing you over the fine cloth that covered you. You bit your lip to restrain the moan that wanted to leave your lips so desperately, making him quicken slightly, whispering things under his breath you couldn’t hear yet felt like praises.

Even when his touch felt like the greatest sin, you were touching heaven every time he stroked that sweet pearl that laid on the most sacred part of your body. He looked like a god to her, his blonde long hair and pale violet eye did nothing to rest the thought on your mind, just amplified everything sinful thought you had wanted to bury.

“Aemond, please.” Your breathy voice was almost enough to have him moaning, he wanted you to say his name like that forever.

The hand that he had over your clothes core was now moving to take off its coverage. He searched in your eyes for regret, for any doubts but all he found was pure bliss. Aemond thought you were the most beautiful lady in the seven kingdoms, but right now, he found you ethereal. You were a goddess meant only for him, only he should ever get to see you this way.

“I know, my loveliest girl.” After he took off your garments, he experimentally brushed his fingers against your hole. He groaned at the feeling of your wetness coating the tips of his index and middle finger, he felt the way your breath hitched at his touch, and he loved it.

His pants were tighter than before, even if they were looser since they were meant for the night, he was throbbing underneath his clothing and the little sounds you let out did nothing to help his case.

He had waited so long for you, he couldn’t even think straight, which led to him being firefly driven by his emotions. The fire burning inside Aemond was not quelling and he had you laying for him on his bed, almost like you were waiting for all of the heat to end up with you.

He was going to push his pants down, even if for a little freedom, but he felt your soft hands beating him to it. They were slightly shaky, but still managed to push them down with little fuss, your eyes looking up at him with those doe eyes he yearned for.

Your hand wrapped itself around his cock, and he stuttered out a shaky breath, a moan choking on his throat as he desperately tried to gain his posture back from the feeling. You didn’t mind that he had stopped the touches on your cunt if it meant you got to see his face contorted in pleasure, as you continued to stroke him it was as if he had traveled to another realm, one you had guided him too.

“Princess…” Aemond whispered in warning, feeling the tightness in his balls keep growing as you didn’t relent your strokes. It took everything in him to tear your hand away, but if he wanted to last he had to.

He took his hand from your cunt, and replaced his touch with his cock, feeling you whine as you threw your head back. His other hand traveled to the back of your neck and guided you to kiss him, missing the way you tasted and how you sighed into his mouth.

After some teasing on his part, he had finally had enough and needed to be inside you. He placed himself on your entrance, not yet entering your velvety folds, he took a mere moment to look at you. Your forehead had a sheer look to it, some hair sticking to it, but just barely. Your eyes held a passion he had never seen before, a look he knew was only meant for his eye.

“You’re sure you want this, right?” Aemond asked, knowing the full consequences of what both of your actions could lead to, but he didn’t mind them. He just needed to know you didn’t, either.

“More than anything, I was always meant to be yours.” Your words were the last confirmation he needed for him to enter you, carefully pushing in.

At first you were uncomfortable, the feeling was weird and made a certain pain appear. You felt something drip, which meant your maidenhead had been broken and there was no true going back from your actions, not that you wanted to.

He stilled inside you, awaiting for the moment you let him move. He knew this could be painful for you, and now that he had you like this, he had all of the patience in the world to wait for your instructions.

“Aemond,” You called out to him with your eyes closed.

“Yes?”

“Please move.” With no further words, he did as you wished.

You moaned when the pain turned into pleasure, the feeling of him slowly going in and out of you was outworldly. You were sure no other feeling in the world would ever feel as good as this, and no other man would ever care for you the way Aemond did.

His thrusts were careful, deep enough to even consider he was too inside you. But there was no complaining from you, just pure bliss (though you didn’t think it was too pure).

He never once relented in his pace, not until he felt you tighten around his cock harshly, a groan slipping from him. He knew you were close, so he fastened his thrusts to get you over the edge quicker, wanting nothing more than to see your fucked out face.

“Open up your eyes, my love.” His words took a little to register on your fussy brains, but you did as he commanded, and looked up at him.

The sight was to die for, your glossed eyes made him want to get lost in them, and only spurred his passion.

“Oh, gods…” You muttered as you felt a coil in your belly tighten incredibly, clawing at Aemond’s back, surely leaving a couple red marks on him.

As he felt you reach you peak, he found himself nearing his. The moan that left your mouth was loud, too lewd, but in the state you both were there was no time to care about it. For Aemond’s ears, it was heaven, the sweetest sound he would ever hear.

After a couple moments he came inside you, the feeling of his seed in you had you gasping, still recovering from your orgasm.

He remained inside you for some time, but when he finally pulled out, his cum leaked from your pulsating hole. He laid beside you, his hand drawing circles on your belly.

“I’ve asked mother to betrothe us.” He breathed out, breaking the silence that coated the room.

“What?” You turned to look at him, your brows furrowed.

“She’s to ask your mother, though it would not be news to her, we were always meant for each other.” His voice was a mere whisper, like he was telling the biggest secret ever.

“So, we're not just celebrating your birthday, but our betrothal?”

“Our betrothal, my sweet love, is my birthday gift.” He moved his head to reach you better, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “The greatest I’ll ever have.”

Little did he know.

#*ੈ✩༄ my works !#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond fluff #aemond angst #aemond targaryen fluff #house of the dragon fanfic

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damn-stark · 11 months

Text

Chapter 9 Heart of ice

Chapter 9 of Moonlight

A/N- 😙

Warning- Swearing, angst, fluff, talks of blood, death, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x09, events based off of Fire and Blood

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS AGO*

“Dragon fruit for the dragon Princess?”

“Pearl necklace for the Siren of Driftmark?”

“Oranges? They’re good for a growing babe.”

You touch your 6 month old swollen belly and come to another stop in front of the stand to study the big round oranges stacked so neatly on the crates.

“How much?” You ask the vendor.

The man puts his hands on his hips and studies his fruit for a moment before facing you. “Discount for you princess. 5 Silver dragons.”

You glance at Aemond, and he hesitates before handing your pouch of money. He doesn’t find this trip necessary, he says that whatever you want can be brought right away. But, you just batted your eyelashes and told him that you needed to take a stroll because of your pregnancy, that the baby needed it, so he accepted without a fight after that.

“I’ll give you 10 golden dragons instead of silver,” you tell the vendor as you get out the golden coins that make the man’s eyes almost pop out of eyes. “Find good use for it.”

The man takes the money, but holds your hand and bows his head. “Thank you, Princess. Thank you, may the gods bless you and yours.”

You offer him a kind smile, and he lets your hand go so you can reach for a box of oranges. However, he then blocks the oranges with his hands. “No, these are no good. I have perfect ones. Juicy and sweet.” He crouches and pulls out a box from under the table and hands it to you.

Albeit before you can even reach Ser Criston takes the box for you.

“Have a nice day, sir,” you direct at the man before you continue down the busy street lively with people.

“<He ripped you off you know,>” Aemond grumbles in High Valyrian so the people around wouldn’t understand him.

You scoff softly as you hook your arm around his. “I know, but I won’t go poor by giving him something extra. Bless them and the gods bless you. Lady Stark would say that.” You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “Besides I actually got a craving. Or the babe did.” You grin and touch your belly again, feeling a small movement now. “Feel,” you beckon him and snatch his hand from his side to press it against your small belly. “He’s moving.”

Aemond comes to a stop to caress your belly very gently. You grin at him in awe and slide his hand to the other side. “See? He wants oranges.”

A smile breaks on Aemond’s face before he takes your hand again and continues to walk with you down the street. “You don’t know that it’s a boy,” he points out.

You giggle. “I do. It’s an instinct. When I imagine the babe I see a boy. Always. We’ll have a boy. I’ll even bet you.”

Aemond scoffs and smirks. “You can place your bets with Aegon. He never turns down the chance to gamble. I believe you.”

“Good,” you grin. “Now I wonder how many kids we'll have. Six? I want a big family. But if I can’t have so many I’ll be content with two, but we need to have a baby girl.”

“So you can name her Daenys?” Aemond finishes for you, making you look at him with awe.

“You remember?” You probe.

A small smirk spreads on his lips and he nods. “I do. You’d only bore me with stories about her.”

You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t bore you. You’d bring me the books!”

“Because it was your favorite,” he counters softly.

You laugh softly and nod. “Still is. Maybe our Daenys will be an amazing dreamer just like the great legend that saved our house.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Maybe.”

You let out a content sigh.

“Spare some food? Money?” A child with his face covered in dirt asks. “Something small?”

“<He just wants to steal from you, they always have money.>” Aemond points out.

Even if he did, you don’t care, you stop and turn to pick out an orange off the box.

The kids' eyes grow curious, and they follow your hand as you move it towards him. You pretend you’re going to give him a single orange, but you then hand it to Aemond and instead grab the box off of Ser Criston’s hold.

“Take it,” you tell the kid. “It’s for you.” You put the box down in front of him and shoot him a smile before you move on.

This time Aemond doesn’t make a remark about your actions, you wouldn't care either way, so he just lets it pass and takes your hand in his again. However, before you can pass the last courtyard before reaching the castle walls, a woman with a bright red dress walks out of her house and announces something that steals your immediate attention.

“Wish to know your future, my Princess?”

“Princess,” Ser Criston interjects now. “She’s only trying to take your money. It’s a scam. Leave it.”

You flick your wrist down and take the money pouch from Aemond’s side.

“Your worry is misplaced, Ser,” the pretty lady with bright and beautiful remarkable colored eyes says. “But I understand. Patience is a fickle thing is it not, Ser Criston Cole? If only you had known it, you would be happy now.” Her eyes dart to you and then go back to him quickly as if trying to point something out.

You don’t read into it, or demand explanation, you let her continue as she looks between all three of you. “I am a humble servant of the Lord of Light,” she rebuttals, “I only mean to give the Princess insight for her eyes are covered and her soul is basked by darkness.”

You smile at her eagerly and let Aemond go to step towards her. “What is your name?” You ask first.

The woman's bright eyes meet yours and her lips tug upward just slightly. “I am Kinvara, Priestess of the Lord of Light.”

“<Y/N, let’s go,> Aemond warns.

“<I am no one to fear, fear resides in the whispers that are heard in the shadows, and from the pretenders…” she pauses and narrows her eyes on him. “You see clearly with her at your side, venture too far and you're left blind. Don’t let the shadows consume you, My Prince, or darkness is all you’ll know.>”

You glance at him and grin brightly before facing her again. “Now can you tell me what I seek?” You press impatiently.

Kinvara turns and walks inside, but you first face Aemond. “Wait for me out here,” you tell him.

Aemond holds your gaze and narrows his gaze. “I won’t get you to leave,” he mutters with discontent. “Just be careful. Don’t give her all your money.”

You shoot him a small smile and then lean in to kiss him before you follow after the Red Priestess, finding a single fire lit on a golden bowl in the middle of the elegant parlor room.

“How much will it cost?” You ask her as you slowly wander to the stand holding the bowl.

“Nothing but your attention,” she shares in such a soothing voice. “And a drop of your blood.”

You stop before the bowl and don’t question offering her your hand. Kinvara picks out a single thin needle and gently cups your hand to poke the sharp end on the pad of your thumb. When a scarlett drop of blood crawls out of the small wound she pulls your hand over the flames and turns it to let the single drop of blood fall in the flames. She then lets your hand go and throws the needle in the flames to let the fire eat away at it.

“You have fire made flesh, a gift from the Lord of Light,” she begins to say.

You clasp your hands over your belly and watch her eyes read the dancing flames with curiosity.

“You have salt littered blood. The dragon of your house sigil has three heads, but your dragon only has one. Your dragon burns fiercely and passionately. Your dragon flies high within the clouds in search of something.” She lets the words slip out, and then meets your gaze across the flames.

You should be intimidated, but you’re not, you’re just eager to know more.

“Three hearts,” Kinvara adds. “One made of ice, two of fire. Four flesh made eggs…”

Four eggs, huh?

“…and loyalty. That is easy to find when you look at the surface of clear waters.”

You shoot her a grin and pick at one thing that caught your attention. “Four eggs? Does it mean I’ll have four kids?”

Kinvara smiles sweetly. “Smart girl. They’ll grow, they’ll know happiness and long lives, hm.” She blinks and her smiles fades to a smirk. “But sins will burden them, cast over them like shadows.”

Right away your smile fades and for the first time since you saw her fear begins to crawl across your mind. “What…does that mean?” You ask quietly.

The red priestess lifts her chin and sighs. “You’ll know.”

How insightful.

“One more thing,” she interjects and moves away from her spot to reach you and grab your hands “Fire kills the girl and awakens the dragon. Follow the flames for they are sweet to you since the moment your seat was taken.”

You let out a deep breath and nod stiffly. You don’t understand completely, or at all actually, but you nod in comprehension before you return to Aemond.

“What did she say?” Aemond asks without waiting to reach the safety of the castle.

So much you didn’t understand.

“We’ll have four kids,” you share the only thing that was clear.

Aemond hums and leaves it at that. Just as you do.

——

*NOW. WINTERFELL*

Was it the flight here, or just your nerves over seeing someone, making your stomach all twisted?

You look at the tall grey stone walls, your eyes climb them to the top expecting to catch a pair of grey eyes, but there’s no one at the top this time. Not like when you first got here.

Good. It gives you time to mentally prepare yourself.

“Gods, I think I’m going to be sick,” you mutter and turn around to give your back to the gates that are getting opened. “Jacaerys cover me. I need to fix my top, it’s too hiked up.”

“They’re coming—”

“Cover me!” You exclaim.

Jacaerys groans and you feel his cloak cover the light bitter breeze that blew.

“I thought there’d be snow,” he adds. “I don’t see it.”

You roll your eyes and pull your top down after having it rise because of your long flight seated on your saddle. “It’s autumn,” you remind him. “They get dry autumns here too. It’s not always covered in snow. But who knows maybe you’ll see snow tomorrow.” You part open the shirt just a bit at the top to show more of your cleavage….it’s warmish and…you are seeing your old lover.

He can look.

“Princess,” a familiar voice calls out.

It’s not Cregan, his voice is a bit deeper, more…well, elegant in way, but not like Aemond’s. Let’s just say that his voice is one you’d know right away. So this is not him.

You turn and push Jacaerys arm down to come face to face with Ser Rolf and a few castle guards. But not Cregan.

“My prince,” Ser Rolf greets your brother by your side.

“Ser Rolf,” you greet with a a faint smile that doesn’t take long to widen to a happy grin whilst you break away and meet him halfway for an embrace. “It’s been too long,” you tell him as you pat his back before you pull away. “I’m happy to see you.”

Ser Rolf mirrors your smile. “And you. A congratulations are in order, I hear. A son. How is he?”

You smile softly and already miss Aerion. “Healthy and growing. How’s your baby girl?”

Ser Rolf nods softly. “Sweet and healthy. I’ll bring her later so you can meet her.”

You clap lightly. “I can’t wait.” You look back at Jacaerys and wave him over. “This is my brother, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Brother, this is an old friend, Ser Rolf. He's good friends with Lord Stark.”

Jacaerys gives a stiff nod before glancing around. “Where is Lord Stark? We’ve come to request an audience.” He deadpans.

You swallow thickly and step back to fall by his side again.

“Inside waiting for the both of you already,” Ser Rolf shares, causing your heart to begin racing. “You might want to forgive Lord Stark, you see with whispers of war the Lord's safety is prioritized. But I will take you to him now, follow me.”

Good this way you can build up your confidence between here and the throne room. You’ll hide how nervous you are by seeing him again, by the fear that you’ll lose all feeling for your husband and fall for Cregan’s charm once again. Or that he’ll hate you for being distant.

Or worse he’ll say he’s with someone else now….

Which isn’t a bad thing, at least hearing that tragic news can let you forget all about each other, but still…you can’t help but feel a flicker of jealousy.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jacaerys voice cuts through your racing mind.

You don’t even realize how deep you are in the grounds, or how close you are now to reaching the throne room and…seeing him.

“Just worried,” you avoid the truth. “About Aerion.”

Jacaerys keeps his eyes on you and narrows his gaze, but you just exhale and look at the upcoming hall door.

“He’s safe at Dragonstone,” Jacaerys assures you. “Mother will never let anyone take him. No one will.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and nod unsurely. “You’re right.”

“Besides this is our last stop and then we return home,” he adds softly as you come to a brief stop as guards slowly open the hall doors. “Just hold on for a while longer.”

Aerion’s well-being worried you, but as of now Cregan managed to squeeze himself to your first priority.

“Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon!” A booming voice gets carried out of the softly lit hall. “And Princess Y/N of House Velaryon, wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Why do they always need to announce that you're his wife, everyone knows, and he doesn’t own you.

Regardless, with each step you take deeper in the hall, the faster your heart races, the more you feel like throwing up, and the more you feel the need to run out.

As you turn a corner and know he’s fully visible on his great throne just down the hall, you avert your gaze and fist your hands. You feel his gaze though, you feel a warmth on your face. You hear him shifting in his seat, you hear his breath hitch.

When Jacaerys comes to a stop, you don’t fall back, you stand by his side with your eyes still averted.

“My prince,” there it is, that’s his voice….gods it brings you goosebumps. “My Princess…” he hesitates for a moment, a single second longer, but it’s enough for you to finally break your gaze away from the ground and slowly lift your gaze to meet his…familiar grey eyes.

And gods it’s like a breath of fresh air, like…seeing color again…

His hair is longer now, half of it is tied back; he couldn’t do that when you were here. His face hasn’t changed though, there’s no new wrinkles, it’s the same stern one you knew, the same one you dream about. His shoulders however, his arms are bigger, it seems like his muscles want to burst out of his shirt….

Married. Aemond. You’re still married.

“Welcome to Winterfell, I hope your flight here wasn’t so cold,” Cregan says and holds your gaze the entire time.

“No,” you assure him, causing the corner of his lips to twitch to a smile. “The winds were gracious on our way North, thank you Lord Stark.”

“Good.”

You can’t help your smile no matter how hard you try to fight it.

“I hope you forgive our sudden presence,” Jacaerys manages to cut in, pulling your eyes to him and noticing he was studying you with a pointed look, so you lose your smile and avert your gaze—“And our bluntness, Lord Stark, but we come here to deliver you a message from the Queen.”

Cregan lifts his chin and glances at his maester before facing both Jacaerys and you. “Not so long ago I received an envoy from a man who claims himself to be King.”

“He’s no King,” Jacaerys spats. “He’s a usurper. We come bearing news from your rightful ruler.”

You share a confident glance with your brother and then watch the maester take the scroll from his hand to deliver it to Cregan.

When the Lord takes it and reads the neatly written words he sighs and doesn’t take long to lower the paper and face you again.

“We can't offer you anything in return for your swords, and lives, Lord Stark,” you interject with your nose in the air to present yourself as collected even if your mind is still running like crazy. You want to just maybe let your brother talk, but you know that your fight and duty is more important than your feelings right now.

“Nor have we come to beg. But we hope that the North and you are everything that your ancestors have lived up to, that your father has lived up to. Loyal.”

Cregan slightly tilts his head and narrows his gaze just slightly as he grows intrigued by the way you speak.

“Your father bent the knee in front of my mother, he swore that House Stark and the North will follow the line of succession, and in the years my grandsire, the late King, was alive he never changed his heir. The rightful ruler is my mother, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and your Queen's throne was stolen. Stand for your Queen, Lord Stark. Or break tradition and stand against the crown.”

Cregan lets out a deep breath and taps the scroll agaisnt the arm rest. “Your words move me Princess. And truly, what Lord would I be if I break my oaths? The Queen will not see the North break faith…”

You share a relieved look with Jacaerys, but it doesn’t last since there’s still more to come from Cregan. You know it.

“But…this war feels almost like family affairs, why should we support this war?” He asks, making you scoff. “Winter is coming, my priorities should be on my people. Besides, you have dragons, why not use those? Why risk our lives for this war?”

You part your lips to argue, but Jacaerys interjects this time.

“The Queen doesn’t want to rule over lands of ash and bone. But if you don’t support this war, the Greens will retaliate and leave nothing but ash of the North. They threaten your Queen’s life, they steal from her, will you stand and see your home burnt? Will you sit and do nothing as an injustice is acted against your Queen? Or will you and your people fight for what’s right? Fight for your lands and your lives?”

Cregan’s gaze drifts to his maester and other people listening to this conversation. He sighs and leaves the room quiet, making Jacaerys and you share a quick worried look before facing Cregan.

“You’ve left me a lot to think about,” Cregan breaks his short contemplating silence. “I hope you know fighting in war is not something to accept lightly, please rest, bathe, eat. Your journey must’ve been a long one.”

You scoff and counter. “For how long? We won’t leave until we get an answer.”

Cregan’s chest rises. “Soon. Please let us show you where you can lay your heads. I will give you my answer, I swear you that.”

Jacaerys sighs, but you catch him nod in agreement with a relaxed expression. “Thank you Lord Stark. We will wait diligently.” He bows his head and shifts his stance to face you with a scolding look.

You sigh deeply and drag your eyes to meet Cregan’s. “Thank you.” You deadpan. You blink and look away in annoyance.

The plan was for him to accept, and then leave so you wouldn't have to stay here longer than you should, but no….no?! Gods.

You attempt to follow a maester to your temporary chambers, but just as you walk a few paces, the door that leads deeper in the castle perimeters opens and a servant walks out with a small toddler. It’s not hard to guess who he is, you last saw baby Rickon when he was only a few days old, but you’ll never forget him or his grey eyes that match Cregan’s.

“Gods,” you gasp softly and quickly push past Jacaerys to meet the servant halfway. “It can’t be, baby Rickon.” You smile and look back at Cregan stepping down from the small platform that holds his chair, before facing the child with dark hair.

“Hello,” you coo at the toddler. “Little Lord….” You trail off and look back at Cregan. “May I hold him?”

Cregan tries hard not to smile as he nods in agreement.

“Hello,” you tell the toddler again as you face him and carefully take him from the servants hold. “Oh you’re so big,” you laugh softly. “What pretty eyes you have…” you steal a glance back at Cregan.

“Y/N,” Jacaerys calls out impatiently.

You ignore your brother and begin to walk after the maester walking you to your chambers. “You may not remember me, but we know each other.”

“H-hello,” the little boy says, making you gush and beam.

“Hi,” you repeat. “Oh you look like your mother. Expect for your eyes,” you say and brush his bangs back. “You have your fathers eyes. Grey like a brewing storm.”

“Hello,” Rickon repeats as he now takes your pendant in his hands.

“Oh, my grandmother gave me that when I left to come here six years ago.” You let him know even if he probably doesn’t understand what you mean. “One side has a three headed dragon, and the other…” you trial off and turn the pendant. “Is a seahorse. My houses.”

“I’ve heard you have a baby of your own,” Cregan interjects as if he doesn’t know already. You wrote about it. “Congratulations, princess.”

You swallow thickly and smile back at him as he follows your brother and you to your chambers. “Yes,” you respond without expressing too much emotion. “A son, Aerion. He’s four months old. He also likes my pendant,” you direct at Rickon. “He puts it in his mouth, just like everything else he can grab.”

“Why did he not come with you?” Cregan asks.

“He stayed at Dragonstone. With things as tense as they are I didn’t want to stress him out, or risk his life. Maybe…once this is over I’ll bring him to meet the North, and see the snow. I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Have you taken him on your dragon?”

You nod and can’t help your soft smile at the memory. “Yes, we have. He loved it, he wanted to reach out for the clouds…he wanted to watch everything. He never cried. But it’s as I tell Aemond, he was meant to fly the skies.” You grin and watch Rickon play with your pendant.

“I’m surprised,” Jacaerys scoffs. “Aemond pays so much attention to Aerion. He doesn’t seem like the father type.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be mean, Jace. And don’t speak on matters you don’t know, Aemond loves Aerion,” you defend your husband. “He’s a very attentive father, so leave it be please.”

Jacaerys lets out a deep annoyed breath and as to not dwell on the matters, you peer back at Cregan. “You should be thankful, Rickon is the very image of his mother.” You shoot him a smile and let your gaze linger, finding it hard to look away.

“To that I am grateful to every day,” Cregan says as he holds your gaze. “It’s a pleasure seeing you again, Princess. We didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

You sigh and glance at your other side, catching Jacaerys watchful eye, so you go serious and hand Rickon back to the servant girl. “Thank you,” you say back. “Lord Stark. It’s a delight being back…I actually missed the North.” You leave it at that and feel thankful that you come to a stop in front of the door to your old quarters.

“You can stay here, Princess,” the maester points out. “Some ladies will come and draw you a bath shortly.” He bows his head and they leave you there to take Jacaerys to the chambers next door. Which is good!

He’s close so won’t give into temptations, and you won’t sneak around. Then again…Cregan is right here.

“I hope to see you at dinner, Princess,” he mutters a bit softer, but not soft enough so as to keep appearances. “It will be in the honor of you and your brother.”

You clasp your hands together and nod softly as you hold his mesmerizing grey eyes. “I’ll be there.”

Cregan offers you a comprehensive nod as he stays close. “I’ll see you then.” He says.

“I’ll see you then,” you repeat softly. “Lord Stark.” You glance down the hall and notice that Jacaerys gaze is focused on the maester talking away, so you quickly meet Cregan’s gaze and tease him with curtsy.

A small smirk breaks out on his face, and he rolls his eyes before he walks away, leaving you giggling to yourself as you disappear inside your old quarters.

It feels like being back home. Funnily enough.

——

*LATER*

There’s so much to pray for, so much to ask for that it feels unfair to actually speak it to the gods. But how can you not ask for your family's well-being? For this war to come to a swift end?

Maybe Ser Jason is right, maybe you can leave. Take Aerion and fly away on Astraea. If Aemond wants to come then he can, but if he wants to fight this foolish war for his brother then he can stay. No matter how much you love him you’d leave without him…

But, on the other hand your mother and your brothers need you, and what kind of person just leaves their family in their time of need?

Wouldn’t it be nice though?

“Still daydreaming?”

Cregan.

You look over your shoulder and see him walking deeper into the Godswood with a charming smile on his face.

“Cregan,” you greet happily now that there isn’t anyone around.

Without an ounce of hesitation you break away from your spot in front of the Weirwood tree, while Cregan picks up his pace to meet you halfway with a mighty embrace.

It’s been so long, no matter what distance you need, you can’t help your happiness and your relief upon being wrapped by his arms again.

“My darling love,” he murmurs as he lifts you a few inches off the ground. “Oh it’s been an eternity it seems.”

You grin and clutch harder onto him. “I thought I’d never see you again,” you say softly.

Cregan sighs and slides one hand to the back of your head to press you closer to him. “How I’ve missed the sound of your voice,” he admits, making your face begin to grow warm and your heart to beat harder.

He shouldn’t be saying these things…

As soon as he puts you back on the ground you pull back to meet his gaze. However, it’s while you do pull back that he cups your cheeks and leans in as if nothing.

You’d let him just to remember his taste, but you can’t do this to Aemond. So you step back and shake your head.

“We can’t do that anymore,” you tell him with disdain to your own protests.

Cregan’s smile fades, he licks his lips and steps back as he nods stiffly. “Right…you’re married now.”

“Yes,” you whisper, “it is good seeing you again though. I have truly missed the North, the snow and…you.”

The corner of his lips pull upward just slightly. “I’ve missed you,” he redirects before he proceeds to glance back at the Weirwood tree. “Forgive me for interrupting.”

You shake your head. “It’s quite fine, I was done already. I was just…daydreaming.” You laugh softly.

Cregan scoffs softly. “I was right then…so what is it you were dreaming about?”

You let out a deep breath and shift around. “How nice it would feel to escape this war.” You look up at the sky and sigh. “To avoid facing my husband who fights against me. To avoid all of it.”

A few footsteps are taken towards you, but you don’t see Cregan by your side. You just hear his voice, “I could offer you and your son refuge here.”

You drop your head and shake your head. “I can’t just leave my mother. Or sit back while everyone fights. I would never forgive myself if someone from my family died while I was sitting here.” You pull the peach-orange pearl from your pocket and begin to fiddle with it. “But thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” You face him and smile softly. “How have you been?”

“Better now that I can see you again,” he coos and takes a step closer to you. “You look incredibly beautiful by the way. I love that cloak.”

You giggle and pick up the red cloak hanging over your back. “It’s quite impressive isn't it? Now I’m like you. Lord Stark.”

Cregan rolls his eyes lightheartedly. “Stop it.”

Silence then follows and his eyes soften before he changes the subject. “Tell me now that we don’t have an audience. How is your son?”

Your grin brightens and you can’t help but swoon. “Oh he’s so perfect. He smiles now and he tries to laugh but he can’t quite yet so it’s like he’s gasping for air,” you giggle. “And he’s sweet, timid, but very sweet. The gods have truly blessed me. I’m happy being a mother.”

“Good, I’m happy for you,” he mutters with a very faint smile. “I only ask because you have failed to write as much as you would.”

Oh…he’s noticed. Seven hells.

Your smile fades and the glimmer in your eyes begins to go out. “Yes,” you don’t deny his claims and interlace your hands together. “I have been trying to stop writing back.”

Cregan blinks and his eyes narrow just slightly. “Why?” He asks as if he doesn’t assume already. As if he doesn’t know your relationship is forbidden.

“Because I’m married,” you explain. “We have a son and I can’t do that to Aemond. Cregan, I love you, I don’t think I will ever stop, but I love him too. I love my life,” you admit with a faint smile. “I’ve grown to be content with what I have. And I owe Aemond the loyalty and respect he gives me. I want my children to grow up seeing his parents actually in love and not at each other's throats or like strangers that have to live together.” You sigh shakily and approach him now to take his hands in yours. “And I know that if I keep this secret going we will be discovered.”

“Then I will marry you,” he argues. “I will take you.”

You scoff. “That’s if I’m not killed first, or banished and have my titles and name taken from me. I’m not a man Cregan, I can’t have lovers. I’m a woman, a princess, I would be shamed for all my life, ripped away from my son, my family. I can’t be selfish anymore.” Your voice breaks and tears sting in your eyes. “I have to let you go. You have to let me go.” You pull his hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his knuckles. “I need you to do that for me.”

Cregan averts his gaze and turns his head away, causing you to grab his chin and tilt his head so you can meet each other's gazes. “I love you Cregan. You were a blessing for me. You were everything to me. I could never forget you or the time we shared, the love we had for each other. But I…I’m letting you go.”

Cregan draws in a deep breath and meets your gaze with his eyes glimmering with tears. “Does he love you? Does he treat you good? Tell me that or I will forever be restless.”

Without hesitation you give him the truth. “He does. He’s rough around the edges, but he’s good.”

Cregan let’s out a shaky breath and nods stiffly. “Then…I can rest. I can do what you want, but just know, if this war takes him away from you I will bring you back to me. I will raise your son as my own.” He presses his forehead agaisnt yours, and you laugh softly.

“I like the sound of that,” you whisper.

Cregan lingers right there, he pulls his hand away from yours and slides them up to cup your cheeks.

“I love you, y/n Velaryon. Since the moment I saw you trying to climb that wall…”

Tears roll down your cheeks and your smile wobbles.

“I love your spirit, I love your eagerness for this world, the way you love so deeply,” he confesses to you in such a soft manner. “I love you for everything you are, no one in this world will ever compare to you, nor will I ever love someone else as much as I love you.” He closes his eyes and just relishes in your approximaty, he inhales and takes in your sweet scent that is mixed with your dragon's scent. He caresses your cheeks and leans in, but he doesn’t kiss you, you don’t let him even if you want so badly to get one last reminder is his lips. You just feel the warmth of his lips brush over yours.

You bask in this moment too, not wanting to break away, wanting to stay here forever. But you can’t, besides Jacaerys is here, it’s a miracle he hasn’t come searching for you already.

“We have to go,” you break the tension. “My brother, he'll come looking for me, and if he sees us like this he’ll…” you laugh softly. “Snap.” You pull back and offer Cregan a smile. “Besides, we still have some time left together. We still are friends.”

Cregan nods. “Yes we are, and friends can dance together.”

You begin to grin. “Aye, they can, and they can still be around each other as long as my brother is with us.”

“Aye,” he agrees with a smirk. “They can still talk at meal times.”

You hum in agreement and begin to walk past him slowly and with your hips swaying, knowing he was watching you walk away. “Friends cannot share lingering looks.”

“No,” Cregan laughs. “And they can't hold hands or sneak off the castle grounds in the middle of the night, but! They can give you flowers.”

You peer back and nod. “Especially those beautiful Blue Winter Roses.”

“They’ll never compare to your beauty, but yes.”

You roll your eyes ahead and clasp your hands behind you. “I’ll see you later for supper, Lord Stark.”

“I cannot wait, Princess y/n.”

You smile at the ground and disappear behind the wall.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Come to one place expecting to be somewhat entertained by all the drama, but no. No! You’re bored, wondering where the hell Cregan took Jacaerys since dawn.

At dinner the two of them really didn’t have trouble getting along. Which is good your mother did say to get along with him. Albeit couldn’t they let you know? At least with Aemond at King’s Landing he’d be with you, you’d drag him to do things you like and he wouldn’t complain. But here?

Seven hells…

You actually miss Aemond. As you lay here in the parlor room in the castle of Winterfell, here in Cregan’s halls, you miss your husband.

But…you are also delighted to be with Cregan…

Fuck! Why did this have to happen to you? Why not just love one man? Sure what would be the fun in that? But life would be simpler.

You groan and press the pillow against your face. Hopefully, death will take you and solve your hearts issues.

Alas, only mere seconds later the sound of Cregan’s laugh can be heard down the hall, along with two pair of footsteps approaching. And as always you let them know your emotions by pulling the pillow off your face and closing your eyes as the door swings open.

“Sister, I’m back,” Jacaerys announces happily. “I’ve just had the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he laughs. “Lord Stark and I just went training and he took me to explore the lands that surround this castle.” His voice gets closer as he walks to you laying on the couch.

When you hear him stop before you, he nudges your face. “I know you are not sleeping, what’s wrong with you?”

You exhale deeply. “Boredom, it’s killed me.”

“Gods,” Jacaerys groans.

You open your eyes and sit up to rest your arm on the top of the couch, and then rest your chin on your arm, catching Cregan’s amused gaze.

“It’s so true, you know how easily I get bored, Jacaerys!” You counter and peer back to watch him approach the fireplace. “Why didn’t you let me know where you were going?” You ask.

Jacaerys shrugs. “I don’t need to, and you were sleeping.”

You groan. “Well it’s so good you had so much fun. I had to break fast alone. Which,” you shoot Cregan a pointed glare now. “Thank you for that.”

Cregan scoffs softly and holds your gaze with a small smirk.

You should’ve looked away, but you let your gaze linger and can’t help your lips from pulling to a small smile.

“Hey! Where did you get that pair of clothes?” Jacaerys asks.

You climb off the couch and stretch out your arms slowly, letting the half red cloak swiftly slide down your back. “I packed it,” you say as if it wasn't obvious. “Which reminds me I need to go back home and grab more clothes. I only packed for a week.”

Jacaerys huffs. “Return and you’ll be inprisoned.”

You shrug. “A risk I'm willing to take,” you don’t argue and look down at your tight black jumpsuit that was intended for riding. “How can I show my face if I wear the same outfit more than two times? I can reuse my riding outfits, it’s a risk I can take, but repeating my gowns?” You exclaim dramatically and approach him to grab his arm. “That is a crime worse than death.”

Jacaerys rolls his eyes and tilts his head away from you. “You’re being dramatic,” he grumbles.

You glance over at Cregan who is truly amused by your conversation, so you grin before you wrap your arms around your brother. “You should be worried baby brother, I mean how can you repeat your outfits when you’re trying to impress your betrothed, hm? You need more jewelry, silks!” You laugh and slide away from him. “Maybe grow out your hair? A man with long hair is very much eye catching.” You smile sweetly and spare a quick glance at Cregan.

Jacaerys follows your quick line of gaze and then looks back at you. Albeit you just ignore it and sigh as you begin walking to the door. “Well, I’ll go, be bored somewhere else where people enjoy my company.” You approach Cregan and bow your head. “Lord Stark.”

Cregan’s eyes lock with yours and follow you as you slowly walk past him.

“Wait,” Jacaerys interjects, making you instantly freeze and go stiff, causing Cregan’s eyes to snap off you right away. “Is this yours?”

You look past your shoulder and blink as you see him holding up your orange pearl. “Yes,” you agree and walk back to him.

“Where did you get it? It’s very pretty,” Jacaerys says and moves it around.

“Don’t worry about it,” you deadpan as you reach him. “It’s mine give it.” You reach over to take it back, but he pulls his hand away. “Jace.”

Said man begins to smile as a thought goes off behind his eyes. “It was that knight wasn’t it? Ser Jason?” He snickers and keeps moving it away from you. “You have been talking with him a lot!” He points out, making you cringe since Cregan was here.

“So what of it?” You snap back and grab his arm to yank it towards you and snatch back your pearl. “He’s my sworn protector, I can befriend him.” You turn on your heels and storm away.

“What would your husband say?” Jacaerys taunts. “He was fuming when you were dancing with Lucerys.”

“<Shut up,>” you sneer in High Valyrian.

Jacaerys snickers, and as you walk past Cregan again you avert his gaze.

“Wait,” Cregan this time interjects, forcing you to stop in front of the door and look back—“the day is clear, the breeze is calm, we should go hunting, all of us. I remember how much you enjoyed walking in the forest, Princess.”

Smart.

“Only if Jacaerys will go,” you rebuttal and meet your brothers gaze.

Luckily Jacaerys gives you a smile and an accepting nod. “Sure, let’s go.”

You grin and clap your hands, waiting for both men out in the hall before you lead them out to the armory to grab what you need.

“Y/N,” Jacaerys calls out softly. “I was telling Lord Stark, here what a good singer you are. And that maybe at dinner you should sing something.”

Singing isn’t something you do with anyone besides your family and Aerion. The name they call you, “the Siren of Driftmark”, was only given to you by your grandfather Corlys, and it spread because your father would talk when he was drunk. Aemond would always tell you not to hide your talent, he says that the gods blessed you for a reason, but, it just never came easy to sing in front of strangers.

“She brought our grandfather Corlys to tears once,” Jacaerys shows you off proudly. “And he is a very closed off man.”

You can feel Cregan’s stare, but you avoid it. “I did not know the Princess could sing,” he says. “She never graced our halls with her gift,”

You try to brush off this request quickly. “I don’t sing in the common tongue, I only sing in High Valyrian. They won’t understand me.”

Cregan scoffs softly. “We don’t need to, my mother said songs are emotions. We don’t need to understand you, we’ll feel what you’re singing. Sadness, grief, happiness, love…it’s all in the way you sing.”

You sigh deeply and shrug. “Maybe I’ll sing something small. But don’t rely on it.” You reach the courtyard soon thereafter and feel thankful that you can leave this conversation by distracting yourself by picking up your weapons.

And the moment you do begin walking out the castle grounds you pull the attention away from their request. “Okay, I need to tell you two something I got told by a red priestess when I went to town a few months back.” You hang the bow around your shoulder to skip ahead and start walking backwards to be able to face the both of them.

“A red priestess?” Jacaerys query’s. “What were you doing talking to witches?”

You scoff and counter. “She’s not a witch! A priestess! And she told me if you don’t let me talk you’ll get an arrow through your throat.”

Jacaerys rolls his eyes and you gracefully continue.

“To put it simple so you boys can understand—”

“Y/N,” Jacaerys scolds, not knowing that Cregan won’t take offense to your quips.

“I have fire made flesh, salt littered blood,” you ignore him. “I will have three more children who will all live good lives,” you grin happily, but Cregan’s smile falters at the mention. “And I’m in search of hearts, one made of ice, two of fire. I don’t know what that means but it sounds interesting. And! She said that the fire is kind to me, that fire will kill the girl and awaken the dragon, hm? Also that loyalty can be seen in the surface of clear waters.”

“Well that one is easy,” Cregan interjects with curiosity. “You see your reflection when you look at the surface of clear waters. Blurry, but it’s still you.”

“So what? Find loyalty in yourself?” Jacaerys adds on to the comment.

You nod eagerly. “Yes! I’ll find loyalty in myself.” You smirk now and shrug. “I still have yet to figure out what she meant, but I quite enjoyed getting that told to me. And I did enjoy sharing it outloud” You twirl back around and leave the conversation at that to rush towards the forest line ahead of you.

Since you know these woods like the back of your hand you don’t wait for either man to catch up, you navigate past the trees, over branches spilled on the ground until you spot a creek with fish residing inside.

They move fast. Some twirl up dirt with their tails as they swim around fast, clouding the sight of your target as you pull out your bow and arrow.

“I saw a rabbit nearby,” Jacaerys points out as he and Cregan catch up to you.

You line up your arrow and raise your bow. “I don’t hunt rabbits,” you murmur.

“She gets too sad,” Cregan says, causing Jacaerys to glance at him weirdly. “She’ll eat rabbit, but she can’t hunt it herself.”

“Mhm-mm,” you hum as you draw in a deep breath and lock your eyes on a glimmering grey fish. It moved fast by you follow it.

That is until you suddenly feel someone blow in your ear. You don’t need to loo back to know it was Jacaerys.

“Quit it,” you grumble and keep your eyes on the fish. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“A good hunter works through their distraction,” Jacaerys taunts.

“Not if the distractions breath smells,” you quip back and let the arrow go, managing to hit a fish directly in the eye and causing it to squirm. “Haha!” You exclaim and put your bow down. You then look back at Jacaerys and Cregan, and shoot them a cocky grin. “What’s my prize?”

Cregan begins to smile, and Jacaerys remarks. “A child can do that, you’re not special.”

You roll your eyes and go and pick up your trophy out of the water. “Fine then, you do it. Hit a fish right in the eye. Fish here aren’t like the ones in Dragonstone or Kings Landing, they move fast here, use the dirt to hide.”

Jacaerys blows out air and brushes you off to now take the spot you stood on to hunt, letting you take his spot by Cregan and secretly high five over your achievement. When Jacaerys aims his arrow you begin to taunt him back by kicking a rock in the water and making the fish scurry around.

“Stop it,” Jacaerys hisses.

You snicker and wait for the fish to gather again before you kick a branch in the water.

“<Bitch,>” Jacaerys swears at you in High Valyrian.

You feign an offended gasp, but rebuttal. “”

Now that wasn’t anyway for either of you to talk, you’re royalty, but you only talked like that to each other.

“What did you just say?” Cregan asks quietly as you watch the fish gather again.

You glance at him and smile before you pat his arm and assure him. “Nothing lady like.” You slide your hand off his arm, but let your hand brush against his.

Jacaerys then proceeds to shoot his arrow, but he doesn’t hit anything even if the fish are an easy target.

“What?” You exclaim. “I thought it was easy.”

Jacaerys glares back at you. “You kept distracting me,” he complains.

You snicker. “No excuse. You just suck.”

Your brother ignores you and marches to the water to grab his arrow.

“While you two were squabbling, a flock of birds landed not so far from here. I’ll throw a rock and we have to shoot one down from here.” Cregan suggests, making your eyes go wide with interest.

“Let’s do it,” Jacaerys quickly inputs to try and prove his worth.

Cregan shoots you both a half grin before he walks a few paces ahead to pick up a pebble. “Ready?” He asks as he looks back at Jacaerys and you.

You pull out another arrow and your brother pulls out his before he responds without checking if you actually were. “Ready!”

Cregan takes what he needs and then hurls the pebble to where the birds are. The moment the pebble hits something, the birds get startled and fly out to the sky, causing all three of you to aim your arrows up at them. Albeit as the men shoot directly at the birds, you aim to the sky and wait for a bird to approach. As it gets close to your aim, you shoot at the sky.

“That was a big fail,” Jacaerys immediately teases you, but he quickly falls flat because the bird flies directly through your aim and gets hit through the eye.

“What?” You laugh. “I win!”

The bird falls through the trees not far away from where you stand, and you turn even more smug. “Now imagine me hunting on dragonback. It’s very fun.”

Cregan rolls his eyes and then begins heading to where his bird had landed. “It’s dangerous.” He yells back.

You break away from your spot and walk to your trophy. “I’m restrained!” You assure him.

Jacaerys scoffs and follows behind you since the bird he managed to hit landed near yours. “Then how do you hunt? The restraints must hold you back.”

“It’s a lot of teamwork between Astraea and I,” you explain and look to the sky as if Astraea was flying above you. “She glides and I aim. It was hard at first, but now it’s like she knows where I want her to move.” You grin back at him. “I can show you!”

Jacaerys sighs and shakes his head. “No thank you, I don’t want your death on me, Aemond would skin me.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s safe. But if you don’t want your sister to overshadow you,” you then whisper so Cregan won’t hear in the distance, “in front of Lord Stark, then I will have to show off my skills later.”

Jacaerys playfully narrows his gaze on you. “Go ahead.”

You shoot him a happy smile and then proceed to hurry through the woods to collect your trophy. Now the rest of the day is spent talking about whatever came up, laughing and just enjoying each other's company.

Having your brother with you now felt so exciting, not like before. Sure you enjoyed Cregan’s company, and liked his friends that also became yours, but having family with you is different, it’s more relieving, you can be more yourself, it’s just better in every way. Even if you squabble a lot.

Cregan also seems to enjoy Jacaerys company, he especially finds amusement in the way you two argue and taunt one another as well. He says that it seems that Jacaerys and you really share a strong sibling bond that he envies. Maybe in a different life, one where you married Cregan—

No…you can’t feed into that thought, no matter how nice it may seem. So, pushing that aside, the day passes right under you, the sun sets without either of you paying attention; that’s how much you all enjoyed each other's company, how you forget about the war that looms. And it’s because of your long day that you fall asleep quickly without having to think about Cregan at night; and how much you want to be in his company alone in his chambers.

You didn’t wake until a knock rapped on your door with urgency.

Jacaerys? What may he want that he can't wait to tell you later?!

“Come in,” you respond to the visitor as you sit up on your bed.

The door opens and the maester comes in. He stops at the doorway and averts his gaze right away since you are considered indecent. “Princess,” he mutters to the ground. “A raven just arrived from Dragonstone.”

Your mother…what happened?

You sigh and climb out of your bed to take the scroll from his hand. “Thank you, maester.”

Said man bows his head and quickly scurries away to leave you to yourself. Once the door is closed you break the wax and unroll the scroll, realizing right away that the handwriting on the paper is not your mothers.

“Prince Jacaerys & Princess Y/N,

I write with urgency and great sorrow, your brother, Prince Lucerys has passed—”

The air in your lungs escapes with your gasp, and your heart sinks right away, but you still don’t believe the news.

“—The Greens have struck their first blow, Prince Aemond killed Prince Lucerys in Storm's End. The details of what happened aren’t clear, that’s all we know right now. But you had the right to know. Stay in Winterfell for a few more days for your safety. Be wary.

Daemon.”

No…no, he has to be lying. It’s Daemon playing games.

You begin to pace the room, feeling a weight on your chest and your mind running mad with different thoughts, outcomes, arguments.

Aemond couldn’t have done that. No it’s not possible, you told him not to act against your brothers. He couldn’t have done it.

You shake your head and face the fire lit in the fireplace. Daemon wouldn't play with news like this, but Lucerys. Sweet Lucerys can’t be gone.

Yet no matter how much you try to deny it you know, deep within that it is true. That your little brother is gone…

Oh gods…

You fall to your knees and begin to sob alone, wishing that the accused was actually here now to comfort you.

But he isn’t here, you’re in Winterfell, feeling all that joy and relief crumble and get consumed by sorrow and darkness. You’re in Winterfell away from the comfort of your mother, you’re here only with Jacaerys.

Jacaerys…That’s right, you need to tell him.

However, when you try to share the news he isn’t here, he’s out with Cregan again. So you wait in the parlor room, crying as you lose your gaze in the sky above the balcony.

It takes a while, but at long last your brother and Cregan find you.

“I know, I know I left,” Jacaerys comes in saying with nothing but joy in his tone. “But hear this, Cregan accepted to fight with us.”

You’re too grief stricken to speak, and the only one who notices right away is Cregan.

“What’s wrong Princess? You plan to ignore us?” He playfully says.

With tears running down your cheeks, and the scroll trembling in your hand you slowly turn to face both men with sorrow painted all over your face, catching them by surprise.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Jacaerys asks with immediate concern. “Is it Aerion?”

You sniffle and offer him the scroll. Jacaerys glances at the shaky sheet before looking at your tears and cautiously approaching you.

“You can’t get upset, Jace,” you warn him. “Please don’t lash out.”

Jacaerys scoffs and snatches the scroll from you. He turns to give you his back and you finally meet Cregan’s gaze, catching the pity and the longing to comfort you now, but unable to.

“No,” Jacaerys gasps and goes stiff. “No. That can’t be…” he trails off, and he soon begins to breathe hard before he balls up the paper in his hand, and throws the vases on the table beside him off the surface.

“Jace,” you quiver out.

Your brother ignores you though and begins to stomp away, mumbling under his breath. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Jacaerys!” You yell, catching his attention now.

“You read the letter,” you mumble. “We have to stay. Please.”

Jacaerys slowly faces you with tears rolling down his cheeks, and that just breaks you even more. He sniffles before he breaks away from his spot and approaches you to immediately wrap you in an embrace.

You hug him back and cry into his shoulder while your mind also went back to Aemond.

You’ll get the truth from him. He couldn’t have done it on purpose, no he couldn’t have. He knows how much that would hurt you…

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark

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yoyokalicent · 10 months

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what's the worst that could happen to a girl whose already hurt?

pairing: aemond targaryen x strong/velaryon!reader

summary: you were the last person he wanted to know, but you were the first to find out.

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your marriage with prince aemond targaryen was nothing but a way to bring peace to the velaryon and targaryen houses at first but, as time went on it became much more.

the time spent in your shared chambers, the late night dragon rides, and the overall companionship you shared made it a marriage of love, and trust.

alicent did not support the marriage pact for all the time leading up to your swears before the seven, you were a strong through and through in the eyes of the queen consort. it was until she saw aemond with you, his eye patch was discarded and his eyes beaming at you from where he sat with his mother.

"do you love her?" alicent asked him, her hands grabbing onto his forearms and looking into his eyes with nothing other than care for her second son.

"thoroughly, mother." he responded truthfully, looking back at where you sat with your handmaiden threading the string, creating one of your many embroideries.

you loved him aswell, he never allowed the resentment he felt toward your brothers to cloud the love he felt for you. he thought of asking your opinion on it, on his eye being lost to your brother. in the end the prince never did, he knew that you would stand strong behind lucerys, which is why he threatened everyone who knew that you would never hear a word of what he had done.

before he left for storm's end you had begged that if he saw lucerys, or jace that he would allow them to get their words across, allow them to make allies. aemond promised you no harm would come to your brothers, but when he saw luke standing there, hatred blinded him.

it was hard for him to remember his promise when he was flying through the rain with vhagar, chasing lucerys, and losing control of his dragon, bringing luke to his end.

your hand-maiden came through with a rolled up parchment, and a frightened look on her face. you immediately thought something happened to aemond in the storm, but you never could have imagined this.

once you read the letter from daemon it felt like the room had started to close in, you suddenly couldn't breathe. your dearest brother, had been murdered and your husband was the one who killed him.

you were on the ground in moments, clawing at your chest, trying to breathe and pretend it was not true. the green dress that was gifted to you from aemond suddenly disgusted you, you tried your best to rip it off but could not do it alone.

"take it-" you choked on your sobs not being able to form what you wanted to say, "please help, i can't breathe in this"

your hand-maiden allowed herself to forget all formalities, and help you rip the back of the dress that you had so forcefully attempted to rip off of yourself.

"it is midday my princess, you have to be dressed." your lady-in-waiting ana suggested worried by your sudden outburst.

you watch ana with blurry eyes bring out another green dress, of course given to you once more by aemond and suddenly you feel sick to your stomach.

"i will not wear anything green. i am not a hightower, i am a targaryen." you stand, dress falling down your shoulders, refusing to look at the deep green dress in her hands.

the fire before you was large in the fireplace, it was almost as large and hot as the blazing anger in your eyes. aemond had no right to go to storms end, no right to murder your younger brother.

the prince would never see his princess after tonight.

your chamber doors open and close quickly without a word, you know who it is. the only person who enters without any introduction. you keep your eyes on the fire, not sure of what you could say to him.

"hello, my wife" aemond reaches down to touch your hair, but you move before his hands could get anywhere near you.

you stand quickly to look into his scarred eyes and see his dripping wet body, the look in your eyes isn't filled with love, that's when he knows.

the prince looks down at your figure and sees the black and red dress, targaryen colors.

"aemond." you greet him coldly, moving from in front of him to the other side of the room. trying to get as far away from the man you loved and you could be.

"what is wrong, my love. your words are cold." aemond knows exactly what is wrong, but he wants you to say it.

"you know exactly what is wrong aemond, he was a boy." you whispered the last word, your sadness overtook you but, you could not let aemond see you cry.

"i was a boy aswell when he took my eye."

you could almost scoff at his words, "he took your eye in self-defense, so you murder him in cold blood? aemond, you know that is not the same."

"but it is, princess. it was not supposed to end in death. i was only meant to frighten him." you can tell aemond is trying to reason with you, scared of your reaction. scared he might lose you, not knowing he already had.

"he was my brother, my blood. how could you do this to me?" your question is honest, and full of curiosity and disgust.

"he is your blood, but what am i?" aemond is walking closer, quickly, and there is no where for you to go.

"you were my husband, now you are nothing." you move to your wardrobe, thinking of packing your things, but realize there is nothing here you want to take to dragon stone, no memories you will forever hold onto.

"and what will you do? leave me here? my love, we made a vow before the seven. we are one." his begging tone is making it difficult for you to stay angry, and then you remember.

"i will leave for dragonstone before night, i am wanted at my home."

"this is your home, princess." your braids feel almost as tight as the knots forming in your chest, how do you tell him you wish you loved him enough to stay, how do you tell him he has done the unforgivable?

there is no way to tell him so you just do, "this is not my home aemond, it never truly was. i have loved you almost my entire life, but not enough to forgive you for this. i am not sure if i can ever feel for you again."

your words feel like daggers going straight into his chest, and if you knew it you would not think twice about it. you wanted him to feel as bad as you do but, you know that he could never feel the way you do.

"i will tell mother of this, you cannot leave. it would be a betrayal of our vows."

"do as you wish, tell who you wish. i intend to leave and never come back whether i am betraying you or not." you wipe the tears from your cheeks and refuse to look into his eye. at one point in time you adored his beauty, and now you can not look past his hideous actions.

"you will not leave me." you are stunned where you are as he yells at you, storming out of the chambers you once had so many loving nights in. the thought of your happiness leaves a sour taste in your mouth, and you can no longer wait to go.

you quickly change into your riding close as fast as you can once ana releases you from your dress, "allyax saddles two ana, if you wish to come with me."

"i do not believe my time here in king's landing is done, princess. i do not wish to be in the middle of a war." although you truly wanted her to travel to dragonstone with you, you know she cannot abandon her duties in the sept.

"i understand ana, i wish you the best here." the hug is quick, due to the urgency and swiftness of your leave.

"i will protect your name here, and the crown." her words make you smile, the tears quickly well up in your eyes.

it is not leaving aemond that makes you upset, it is the broken relationships, and the war that is to come. once you reach the dragon pit relief exudes from you, you are so close to home. once you are in the air there is no one stopping you.

no one stopping you from going home.

no one stopping you from avenging your brother.

the targaryens never forget.

#aemond targaryen #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x strong!reader #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond x reader #hotd fanfc #hotd fanfiction #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #game of thrones

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elliewlums · 1 year

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𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 [𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧]

pairing: aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader

summary: aemond lets you sleep off a hangover

content warnings: yes this is fluffy. yes i know this man is not canonically kind. i don’t care. it was fun to write. legit just reader sleeping in aemond’s arms. if this does well i will write smut 4 him soon (request it pls😡)

i was lacking inspiration so i picked a prompt that resonated with me from this list by @rosewritingprompts; letting them sleep when they should be awake

you’re exhausted; your eyes are drooping, your vision blurred as you try your hardest to focus on the pages of the book in front of you. and just as your head begins to sway with fatigue, you feel a familiar hand tipping your chin upwards. aemond hums, piercing blue raking over your tired features. despite his stoic expression, you know better than to assume he’s displeased. in fact, he’s enamoured with you— enamoured despite your swollen eyes and hoarse voice, despite your mussed hair, your raging hangover.

“i did wonder what trouble you and my dear brother got yourselves into last night,” he chastises.

“perhaps not my brightest idea,” you rasp, relying on his grip to keep you upright when his hand moves up to cradle your cheek. he smiles, fondness softening his perpetually sharp features.

“no, perhaps not.” he agrees. you tug at the ends of your velvet sleeves uncomfortably; your body is numb from sitting in the wooden library chair, muscles stiff and seized tight additionally from your ridiculous drinking antics with aegon.

“come here.” he murmurs. “you need to rest.”

you shake your head fervently.

“i don’t have time. i’m tutoring luke today.”

“you have time,” he soothes, lithe arms snaking around your waist and coaxing you to stand. his breath is hot in your ear. “aegon is still in his chambers.” he snorts, somewhere between disapproving and amused. your responding giggle is quiet. you’re in good spirits despite your pounding migraine.

“can we go to the gardens?” you ask suddenly. aemond flushes hot with affection and nods, unable to deny you anything you desire.

“as long as you promise to sleep.”

“promise.”

“to the gardens, then,” he says, patient when you fumble for his hand and follow behind him, alarmingly akin to a lost puppy. only for you is he so placid.

you make a beeline for the towering oak tree you love so dearly and before you can sit, aemond does first; he presses his back against the bumps and ridges, settling you between his legs and murmuring lowly as your entire body softens against his own. you curl into his chest, tip your face up to nudge his jaw with the very end of your nose.

“will you wake me?”

“of course.”

“do you promise?” a blinding smile cracks his face in two at your trivial question, asked so seriously. you swat his chest lightly. “i’m not jesting! mother will have my head if i’m late.”

he relents. those doe eyes have him entirely lovestruck. “yes, i promise.”

“good.” he presses a firm kiss to the crown of your head and rubs up and down your clothed arms in huge, sweeping motions. you hum appreciatively.

it’s not long before your breaths even out and you go lax, soft with sleep. you sleep heavily and you’re difficult to rouse with your face buried in aemond’s clothes. you tend to sleep more heavily in his arms.

fortunately for him, he’s spared from the task of waking you when jace stumbles upon the pair of you. he immediately shouts something indecipherable into your ear and you startle, unhappy.

“jacaerys!”

“get up.” he gripes, stopped short from grabbing you by aemond’s protective arms around your squirming body.

and if looks could kill… well, you try to avoid the thought of aemond killing. you’re all aware of what he’s capable of, but dwelling on the fact that he has proven himself dangerous at times only serves to send you into bouts of panic. you know he’d never harm you, not even a little, and the danger is never directed towards you; you do, however, fear for your siblings.

“must you be so loud and unpleasant?” you ask pointedly. jace grins.

“i pride myself on being loud and unpleasant, sister.”

“i hate you.”

you stretch and reluctantly unfurl yourself from the warmth of aemond’s embrace. before standing, you press a tender kiss to his shoulder.

“i will see you later.” you say, though you frame the sentence similar to a question with the upward intonation of your speech.

“yes.” he affirms. “and no more drinking.”

“no,” you giggle. you don’t press for another kiss, aware of his boundaries surrounding public affection, but he does reach for your hand, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles before letting you go. once jace has bounded ahead, as is his way, you turn and blow him a kiss. he smiles lazily.

he thinks you ridiculous for your unbridled adoration towards him. you remain unaffected. he’s sullen but he’s not unfeeling, and you know how much he cares for you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #velaryon!reader #house of the dragon #aemond fluff #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen fic #writer #writers on tumblr #fanfic #fanfic writing

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rinrinx2 · 1 year

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My only

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: after the news that your husband would be taking a second wife you are overcome with grief at the possibility that you will become neglected as soon as he is wed

Warning: Mature themes, Mature Language, Adult themes, Smut, Orgasm, kinda angsty

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"When Aemond and you had married I had not objected, but now he must perform his duty tis only natural. His loyolaty to this kingdom comes above all even those he has chosen to love"

These were the words that the queen Alicent had given you when you had found out about his betrothel to the young Baratheon girl, as you had attempted to suade her into finding another solution to there problems.

But alas you could not, no word could you utter that would change her mind on the matter. Your husband ,Aemond Targaryen, would have two wives, but your heart remained unsure at which one would be first for his affections.

The conversation between you and queen replaying over and over in your mind while you sat on your bed, as with widened eyes starring into the void as the scenes replayed until any emotion left was gone.

"It's within Targaryen tradition to have many wives, just as the king of old Aegorn the conquerer had"

"You are lucky, not many women in these lands have the honour of living the lavish life as you do"

"Your marriage is not known to those in our kingdom, especially the great lords of these lands. Let us keep it that way"

The words of Alicent echoing throughout your mind, as tears began to form in your lashline, at the realization that you would soon mean nothing to Aemond.

It was only natural that once he and the Baratheon girl wed, that she would carry his heirs so that the Targaryen name be carried on.

And you, you would become known as the woman he whored out for enjoyment, now lingering the corridors of a palace you once considered your home, these were the thoughts that kept on eating at your mind all morning till now at dusk.

So deeply in these dark thoughts that you had not heard your chamber doors squeak open.

"Shall you not come to dinner?" Aemond asked out, loud enough that it caused you to snap out of your dull thoughts. You turned your face so that you could now look upon his.

"I am not hungry, Lord husband" you replied, as you starred at his face taking in as much of his beauty before it would be stolen away from you, as it had for these past few weeks.

"My Lady wife will not dine with me?" Aemond asked with slight annoyance in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Lord" you said turning your face once again from him.

Aemond knew something was wrong, from the reaction you had given as well as addressing him as Lord, something which you only did when you were either angry at him or saddened. Aemond knew it could not be anger as he tried his best to never raise your temper, so he knew it could only be sadness.

Quietly Aemond walked over to where you sat on the bed. He watched as your gaze was down towards your hands that seemed to fiddle with your ring finger. But he did not note the the heavy tears that were now present in your lashline just waiting to spill and wet your cheeks.

You felt Aemond's presence when the bed dipped beside you, only causing the tears to finally spill from your eyes.

"Why did you marry me?" You asked with a shaky breath keeping your head lowered.

Aemond was taken aback by the question. It wasn't that he was unsure of why he had married you but rather trying to formulate the correct words. He starred at you hunched sobbing figure for a moment before he finally spoke.

"Because I love you"

"No you don't" you said as you finally sobbed into your hands, you didn't believe his answer because how could it be true if he was to wed another.

"I do" he said with a monotone voice.

"They why... why are you marrying that other woman?"

"Because it is my duty, (Y/N)" Aemond said more quietly as he had finally realized why you now sobbed as if the world was ending.

But he didn't understand that he was your world and it felt as if it was being ripped from beneath your feet.

"(Y/N)" Aemond said softly as he tried to bring you closer to him so that you may be in his arms. But instead of a welcoming embrace he expected you slightly pushed him away, as you heart was to wounded to accept his love.

A frown was painted on Aemond face at your reaction. His wife was rejecting him so openly.

"Please don't touch me, if you do I will fall in love with you even more and when you finally leave me for her I'll die of heartbreak"

Aemond didn't say a word after you spoke. He watched in silence as you cried out your heart. Watching as the tears fell from your cheeks to your dress. Aemond stayed like that for a moment just observing you until the sound of your cries pierced his heart more painful than any blade could.

"My words are true, I married you because I love you, (Y/N)" Aemond said as he carefully grabbed at one of your hands, moving it from your face to hold it in his own hand.

Your breathing began to settle at his actions, and your eyes followed his hands until you finally looked up into his.

"When I saw you, I thought you were nothing more than some lady of the court. Some girl who we owed a home because her father was killed accidentally at our accord and whose mother had abandoned her. But then you began helping me with my studies and even then I still thought that you would be more of a nuisance than a help, but as time progressed I realized how I enjoyed your company. And everyday I would look forward to my studies because you would be there because... you made me feel as important as a king"

"And I wanted to marry you no matter what. My mother realized that too so rather than fighting against me she agreed, she knew that I would follow you to the ends of this earth even if you did not ask (Y/N). I truly love you" he said as he starred into your eyes not wanting you to miss the emotion in his eye as he spoke of his love for you and you could see it.

You crying had finally ceased and you now had a small smile on your lips as you looked towards him.

"You mean what you have said?" You questioned

"You know I am not a man to speak in such a nature as I just had, but when it comes to you my love it pours out of my heart" he said with a soft laugh as the atmosphere in your chamber become lighter.

You laughed at his words and knew that he meant every word he had spoken to you, but even with this knowledge that you owned his heart your jealousy still arose inside you.

"And what of the Baratheon girl" you questioned with a look of envy.

"I shall marry her only so that her father remains our ally, I shall not reside with her. I remain here with you, my wife" he said gently squeezing at your hand reassuringly.

"And what of an heir. When they ask for an heir between you and her then you'll-" but before you could finish speak Aemond already spoke, knowing how your mind drifted back towards the negativity.

"My duty was to marry her, not to bare an heir with her" he said now with a serious tone, indicating to you that his words were not just being said to comfort you but that they held truth in them.

"The only children I plan to have is with you" Aemond said now bringing back his smile to his face.

"Oh really?" You teased with a giggle as you gently poked at his chest.

"Yes my lady, perhaps we should produce one now" Aemond said as he gently brought himself towards your figure as his lips molded to yours.

Aemond kissed you softly until his passion for you became to much, his kisses became rougher and his tongue swiped at your lower lip a sign for you to open your mouth for him which you did without hesitation.

Aemond slipped his tongue into your mouth, as lapped at your causing moans to slip out from you.

Aemond gently pushed you down till your back was met with the softness of the bed. Your hands found there way into Aemonds hair, grabbing at the back of his head as you attempted to deepen the kiss.

"Desperate are we to carry my offspring" Aemond said with a a small chuckle against your lips at your neediness.

But Aemond wanted just as much as you wanted him. His one hand moved to pull your dress up, exposing your bare cunt to the cool evening air.

Aemonds hand quickly moved to it, feeling the slickness that coated it. Aemond moved hus fingers to your clit gently rubbing it back and forth as you moaned out.

The feeling of Aemonds rough fingers playing with your clit made your body tingle with pleasure, craving for more of him.

"Please" you begged out.

Aemond knew what you wanted as he brought his fingers from your clit to your puffy flolds, gently sliding his fingers between them as they poked at you clenching hole, feelings your pussy tried to suck him in.

"Please my love" you begged out as the feeling of Aemond brushing against your hole was become torturous.

Aemond quickly shifted up from his position, quickly unbuckling his belt. He wanted his cock to feel the tightness of your walls not his fingers.

You watched as your husband quickly pulled his cock free from his trousers. Watching how his massive cock dripped bead of pre-cum and how it twitched slightly all at how needy he was to be inside you.

Aemond brought himself back down to where you laid on the bed, hovering just above your figure, with his cock aligned with your soaking pussy.

Aemond gently nudged his swollen tip into you opening groaning at how your pussy was tightening at barely anything.

Aemond could no longer resist it, he sank his hard cock into your pussy feeling as your warm walls clamped down on his member nearly making him cum instantaneously.

"Trying to milk my cock already" he teased as he began to thrust into your clenching cunt.

You were soon seeing stars as Aemond dragging his cock back to your entrance only yo plunge it back deep down inside your pussy. His cock hid hitting so deep inside you causing a pressure of pure bliss to shoot through your body.

Aemond could feel his balls contract as he continued fucking you, the semen in his balls traveling to his shaft just waiting to spill out into your womb and claim it.

Aemond began thrusting into you faster as he needed to feel the cum in his cock shoot out into you, he needed to scratch the itch of pleasure that was forming within him.

Aemond was now pounding into your mercilessly, the only sound in your chambers was the wetness of your pussy as Aemond fucked into it and the sound of your moans.

You were so close, you could feel it by the way the tightness in your tummy was getting tighter and just ached to snap.

"I'm going to -" you moaned out, and Aemond could already tell by the way your pussy was tightening that you were close.

"Cum wife" he said through clenched teeth holding back his own orgasm.

"I need you to cum so that my seed can claim you"

And at Aemonds lewd words, you came, cumming hard. Your pussy pushing out against Aemonds cock, as he pushed it in even deeper.

Aemond came at the sensation of your pussy devouring him, he shot white hot ropes of semen into your womb as he continued milking him.

Aemond and you remained like that for a moment, with his cock sheethed inside you while your pussy soaked in all his cum.

When Aemonds breathing was regulated as well as your own he pulled out, shoving whatever spilt cum back inside your hole.

Aemond moved to lay beside you on the bed, with a massive smirk on his face.

"So dinner?" He asked turning his face towards yours.

"Aemond" you said slapping his gently slapping his arm.

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alyshiba · 1 year

Text

Lilagon hen zaldrizoti

Part five: The Wedding

Read on Ao3

Summary: AU where Visenya, Rhaenyra's only daughter lives and is born as her eldest child. To all of Westeros she is seen as the only trueborn child of Ser Leanor and Rhaenyra, but in truth her father happens to be Deamon.

Warning: Sex, smut, kind of dom Aemond and a very bratty Visenya. Read at your own peril.

Author’s note: We finally get into the thick of it.. so be mindfull that this chapter contains graphic description of sex, not very well written.

If you're sensitive to this topic.. keep in mind that this fic is rated as mature, BUT i highlighted in bold the part where you get close to the sex scene, so that you can skip it and go directly toward the final part (highlighted in bold as well) of the chapter.

This very mature scene is kinda important to the building of Aemond and Visenya's relationship, but I understand that it might make some uncomfortable.

The mornings in King's Landing were quite different from the ones on Dragonstone: it was warmer, which was not at all a bad thing, but the breeze coming from the port and the coast did not bring the distinct smell of the sea, no, the air carried the smell of half a million people living on top of one another. It wasn't exactly pleasant.

Visenya had to go through all her wardrobe to find something light enough for the warmer temperatures, and finally, she decided upon a red silk dress, maybe a lgraittle too revealing with a low neckline on the front and a good portion of her back bare, but it was the only one she could tolerate wearing in the heat of the capital. She then proceeded to tie her hair in a high braid which she then rolled up in a bun, her long locks had become almost a nuisance, some days she felt as if she was carrying a blanket over her shoulders.

Donned and ready the Princess took to the still-empty corridors of the Red Keep, followed closely by her armed shadow, Ser Edric. The servants who were already up and running had their passages that helped them carry on their duties much more quickly, and likely the Lords and Ladies in residence were still readying themselves for the day ahead.

<> Visenya said breaking the silence of their walk, <<pardon?>> Questioned the knight, taken aback by the sudden request. <<Prince Daemon had already taught me the basics, given the situation we had found ourselves in. But I wish to learn how to better defend myself in case it is ever needed>> In truth her father had taught her much more than just the basics of swordplay, but going into the details of her complicated relationship with him would only increase the risk of unnecessary and uncomfortable questions. <<As the Princess commands>> Edric finally answered. He did not sound convinced, probably he proudly felt it to be a useless task since he was likely the best swordsman alive in the Kingdoms, but she couldn't always count on his protection, or at least she wasn’t foolish enough to do so.

The princess did not have a specific destination in mind, she just wanted to evade her chambers and be reacquainted with the Keep that was now her home. Since the executions of the traitors' Lord she, and her family, felt a sense of false security: there wasn’t talk of threats to their lives, yet Alicent Hightower still resided within these walls and the new Lord of Harrenhall was nowhere to be found. Not to mention that three out of the seven major houses still sympathized with the Hightower’s cause, therefore Visenya kept her guard high and refused to place her trust in anyone.

Her feet had taken her outside of the keep, on the top of the staircase that led to the main courtyard. There was a good number of people in the yard: Lord and Ladies spectating and those who trained with the sword.

There was a clear division between those who practiced: on one side she noticed the silver hairs of Aemond and Daeron, while on the opposite side of the yard her father was mostly beating up her brothers Jace and Luke. Visenya laughed when Daemon sent effortlessly both of her brothers arse first in the dust again, gaining an enraged glare from Jace. She must have laughed too loudly, for from the corner of her eyes she noticed Aemond grinning in their direction. <<Tell me your honest opinion, Ser Edirc>> She questioned. It was painfully clear that her uncles were by far better swordsmen than her brothers. She was never allowed in the courtyards, so she couldn’t say if it was due to a lack of good trainers, too much negligence or if simply they weren’t good at combat. What she knew was that if a fight ever broke Jace and Luke would have trouble defending themselves.

<<On a combat field they may survive>> Edric said after a while, <<but they lack the skill to win a duel>> He was being too kind, the Princess thought. <<Although your betrothed shows impressive skill… for someone with his impediment>> Visenya glared at Edric for a moment. She didn’t want to defend Aemond, but that comment reminded her of all the times she was shunned because of the lack of a dick between her legs, <<It is with hands that one wields a sword, not with an eye>> she bitterly commented, <> began Edric again as Visenya started to descend the stairs that led to the courtyard. <<One has to learn to use all of their senses during a fight, Prince Daemon once told me, you cannot rely solely on your eyes at all times>> The knight stayed silent. It wasn’t supposed to be her place to teach a man how to combat, but she had always been impulsive, and a lifetime of being not good enough only because of her gender made her sensitive towards that kind of discrimination.

Once she reached the yard she immediately gave up on greeting her brothers and father, for they were once again busy in a spar. So she glared at Ser Edric and then went straight to where Aemond and his brother Daeron were sparring. When she reached them all of the spectators, ladies mostly, made space for her, bowing. She was growing to enjoy the looks of reverence and almost fear they showed her.

Visenya clapped when Aemond held his training sword at his brother’s throat, ending the fight, it was then that he noticed her staring at him. Her future husband smirked at her, pushed his sword into Daeron’s hand, and walked toward her. <<Have you come to appreciate true sword skill, my love?>> He said stretching the last two words, she didn’t know if he intended to mock her or annoy her since her father and brothers were close enough to hear. It was probably the latter, for Aemond then grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles, as he always did whenever anyone was close. Visenya didn’t miss how his eyes lingered for a long while on her cleavage. She smirked, realizing that maybe her future husband would be as easily seduced as any other man, which might make her married life easier.

<<All I hear is praise for your skills>> She sweetly said, taking her hand out of his and placing it on his chest, <> Aemond simply smirked.

—

<<Father, Mother, Warrior>> Chanted the High Septon, almost in sync with the beating of her heart <<Mayden, Smith, Crone>> the chant went on and the lump in her stomach grew, <<Stranger>> another pause, <<here now their vows>>.

Visenya raised her head and looked into her husband’s eye, she refused to be scared or intimidated by him, these vows, or anything else. She was Visenya Targaryen, daughter of the Queen, the blood of Kings and conquerors and dragons. <> Shee proclaimed loud enough for the all plaza to hear, in her most confident tone. Aemond returned her gaze, <> he repeated, his voice and tone succeeded in making it sound more like a romantic vow than a threat. The Princess hoped that it was his intention and not just a show for the crowd gathered.

<<On this day, in the eyes of men and Gods alike, I proclaim Aemond of House Targaryen and Visenya of the Houses Velaryon and Targaryen to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and always>> That was it then, she now belonged to Aemond in the eyes of the law. They stared at each other for a bit before the High Septon cleared his throat and whispered for their ears only: <<you might want to seal the vows with a kiss>> they both turned at the old man, Aemond made a face, but then carefully slid his hand on the back of her neck, taking care to make it be a gentle gesture, before lowering his face at her level. Visenya looked into his eye for a moment, only to see the same uneasiness and confusion she was feeling, then took his face in her hands and kissed her husband. She went for a chaste kiss of his lip, but Aemond was quicker and he chose to slide his tongue in her mouth forcing her to do the same. When they broke the kiss he was grinning. She stomped on his foot gaining a growl from him as they turned, hand in hand, towards the crowd of High and lower Lord and commoners alike.

Visenya grinned towards Borros Baratheon and his displeased face.

—

The ceremony had been long and tedious, and the feast that followed was equally as boring, just a hundred times louder. They all sat at a long table in the throne room: her mother sitting in the center, right in front of her throne, and to her right sat Daemon who was drinking way too much for Visenya’s liking, close to him where his twin daughters and the Velaryons. In a show of unity, if the marriage wasn’t enough, Rhaenyra had wanted Aemond to sit at her left, so now Visenya had to sit between her new husband and his very much drunk brother Aegon.

The former usurper King had spent the entirety of the feast making unwanted compliments to his new sister by marriage, all of which were met by murderous glances by both her father and Aemond, surprisingly. Visenya concluded that the two brothers must not have the best relationship, or that her husband was a jealous man. Or both. She was sure that one of the two would kill him when Aegon rose, cup in hand, and shouted for the bedding ceremony to begin. The princess decided to take matters into her own hand, took the meat knife from the table, and pressed it between his uncle's legs. <<sit>> She whispered, angrily. Aegon quickly did, swallowing down fearing for his manhood. Visenya turned to look at him, and forces herself to smile at Aegon, never looking away from his eyes. <<you will lose a finger any time that one of those idiots touches me. If you end up not having enough fingers, uncle, then I’ll take your manhood>> She intended for him only to hear and judging by the way his hand went immediately between his legs when she removed the blade, she was sure that he heard loud and clear. But the sound of Aemond choking on his wine was a clear sign he must have heard as well.

Visenya then turned to the hall packed with drunk men eager to put their end on her and her stomach closed in fear of what they might do. She quietly rose and began to walk in the direction of Aemond’s chamber when a mob of Lords high and low alike formed at her tail. She expected to feel their dirty hands on her body when Daemon stood between her and them, Darksister unsheathed, and looked at the crowd dead serious, <<touch the Princess, and I shall enjoy gutting you like boars>> She didn’t miss how her father looked at Aemond mid-sentence but squeezed his arm in thanks anyway.

The bedding ceremony turned to a silent procession that followed her to her new apartments. She almost started laughing. Once the Princess reached the door the crowd quickly dispersed to avoid Daemon’s wrath. They were the only ones left. <<You are gorgeous>> He whispered, caressing her cheek, Visenya smiled leaning into that rare gesture, <<drug him or make him drink until he collapses>> she laughed at her father's ever charming manners. <<But if you need it you still have the dagger no?>> He asked, and when she nodded he disappeared into the corridors.

Aemond's bedroom was warm, clean, and tidy like his solar was the last time she had been there. It had a lingering smell of soap and citrus, a blessing for her nostrils after the stench of the city and the hall. She began to undo her hair, letting them flow freely on her body. Then she untied the corset of her dress, which she let fall at her feet. She picked up the heavy fabric gown, folded it neatly, and placed it on a chair near the door of the room. She then freed herself of the undergarments, until she was completely naked. She unclasped all of her jewelry and placed them on the dress, and finally, she decided to hide her dagger under the mattress, just in case she needed it. She sat on the chair by the fireplace, waiting for her husband. She knew Aemond wouldn't let the night go without consuming their marriage, and she also was well aware of the way he looked at her every time they had ended up close since Storm’s End, so she decided that her best course of action would be to keep being seductive and let him have his way with her. She hoped it was just enough to make it at least enjoyable for her.

Visenya didn’t have to wait long for her new husband, she heard the thud of the door closing, and after a while, Aemond walked into the bedroom. He was still perfectly dressed as she had been when she entered the room, so she concluded that he also was spared from the bedding ceremony. A part of her, the empathetic one she kept always hidden, felt glad for him.

The Princess rose from her position and confidently walked toward her husband, suffocating a grin when he saw Aemond's stunned expression. She smiled at him and without saying a word started unbuckling his doublet, letting it fall on the floor. Then she helped him out of his shirt, revealing his toned and muscular upper body.

Visenya bit her lower lip: she certainly won’t be complaining about how her husband looked.

She felt Aemond’s hand on her hips then, and after a moment he pulled her close to himself so that now her breasts were tightly pressed against his torso. She smirked as she felt one of his big hands traveling along her back and the other going straight to cup her right ass cheek, squeezing it lightly. <> She purred, tilting her head to look at his face. Visenya moved her hands from his chest to Aemond’s face and dragged him close enough to kiss him.

She felt him squeezing her butt harder while his other hand went to grip the back of her neck as the kiss quickly became hungrier, filled with need built from all of the tension they felt in the days leading up to that moment. Visenya’s hand moved on its own accord lower and lower until she felt her husband’s growing erection. She started instinctively to stroke him from above his breeches and heard his muffled groans. Aemond then quickly and abruptly broke the kiss, grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him. She was almost going to protest when he forced her to stop stroking him by turning her around. She pressed her ass against his crotch instead, grinding it against his erection and gaining another moan from Aemond, who held her tightly against his body. He began to leave wet kisses along her neck, from the base to her jaw, and as she began to lean into him she felt his free hand traveling on her body until it settled on her breast cupping it. <> He whispered in her ear, before kissing the soft skin of her face under her lobe, causing her to press her thighs together as she started to feel her core pulsing and growing wetter, <<having his sister’s wet cunt at my disposal for the rest of my life will be payment enough for the eye he took>> she should have felt enraged by that comment and by the way he spoke of her, but there was a part of her that made her cunt start throbbing and that wanted him to take her right then and to be at his mercy. She decided that she might like being married to Aemond, after all. <<Make good use of it then>> She said back between labored breaths.

Visenya felt so relieved when she felt his hand travel from her breast down towards her core, and she couldn’t stop the moans that left her mouth when his fingers started to press and draw circular motions on the most sensitive part of her wet cunt. She could very well imagine him smirking, being satisfied with himself, knowing that in those moments he made her be at his complete mercy, but the Princess didn’t care, lost in the pleasure that his fingers were giving her.

As soon as she started feeling pressure building inside of her, her moans got louder and her knees weaker, but it was then that he deprived her of his touch and turned one again to face him. It took a moment to regain control of her mind, and when she did she raised a brow at Aemond who was grinning devilishly back at her. She wanted to slap him and at the same time take his hand and place it where it had been a few seconds ago, but she refused to give him the satisfaction, so Visenya looked at her husband’s face, then at the very evident bulge between his legs, and then at his face once again, deciding that two can play this game.

The Princess forced herself to keep her eyes locked in Aemond’s only one and backed up until she reached the bed and sat on it. She smirked at him and still didn’t break the stare when she adjusted her position and when she spread her legs for him to see, and she was still staring at his lilac eye when she started to rub her clit just like he did moments before. Again she couldn’t help herself and her moans as she brought herself closer and closer to release. The closer she got to her orgasm the more she saw Aemond suffering, so she decided to be even more of a brat by moaning his name out loud. That was enough for him as he sprinted toward his wife, adamant to regain control of the situation. But she stopped him by pressing a foot on his abs, <<why so impatient?>> she said between heavy breaths, mockingly. Aemond would not allow her brattiness to go any further and pushed her foot away. In a moment, faster than her brain could record, he was on top of her, pushing her onto the mattress with one hand on her throat. <<Your cunt is now mine>> He said with a husky voice, inches from her face, <<and only I am allowed to touch it, do you understand?>> Visenya bit her lower lip, his tone made her brain lose the ability to form any coherent thought, so she simply nodded, raising her hands in defeat. That part of her mind that loved how he was being in control made her hope that the response would make him give her the release she was desperate for.

He kissed her again, with more passion and hunger than before, and allowed her to blindly try to untie the strings of his breeches. When she finally succeeded he broke the kiss and got rid of the final layer of clothing that was on his body. She spent a moment staring at his hardened cock, it looked large, maybe too large to fit inside of her.

Aemond allowed her to get in a more comfortable position on the bed, before lowering himself on her. As he kissed her again the Princess felt his cock pressing on her body, and his hands wandering on her body: from her core to her full breasts. She allowed her own hands to explore him, caressing his back and finally resting on his toned ass. When he broke the kiss once again and decided to finally take her, Visenya went to remove the eyepatch he was still wearing. He immediately stopped her, grabbing her wrist, <> she whispered, caressing his cheek with her free hand. He spent a moment looking at his wife in her eyes, perhaps afraid that she would mock or belittle him, but then Aemond allowed her to remove the patch, revealing once again the sapphire nestled in his eye socket.

She was content enough in knowing that now he too felt as vulnerable as she was.

Aemond began to rub his fingers against her clit once again, silencing her moans with a kiss. He continued until he was satisfied enough with her wetness, then he broke the kiss and grabbed his cock guiding it towards her entrance. He looked at her for a moment before slowly pressing it inside of her.

She felt a stinging sensation when he entered her, and then as he fully slid his cock inside of her she felt filled and warm. Her husband gave her a moment to adjust herself and get used to the sensation before he started to thrust in and out of her. He started very slow, but the more she grew comfortable the more he increased the pace of his thrusts until she started to enjoy that feeling way more than she did his fingers.

It didn’t take long for Aemond to bring her once again on the verge of an orgasm, and as she moaned his name louder and louder she realized that this was way better than any pleasure she might have ever given herself in the privacy of her chambers. He must have been closer too, for after a bit he grabbed her hips and started to pound harder and faster inside of her, causing her vision to go blurry and waves of pleasure to wash over her body. He pulled out as her inner walls began to clench around his cock, Visenya looked confused at her husband as he hovered over her, eye closed. It took him a couple of strokes to release himself over her stomach.

Aemond collapsed at her side and gave himself a minute to steady his breath and regain his composure, before walking towards the basin placed not far from the fireplace. He grabbed two wet towels, used one to clean himself, and then brought the other to Visenya, who accepted it and cleaned herself before throwing it on the floor next to her. She then felt the mattress shift under her husband’s weight as he settled under the covers facing the ceiling.

She mimicked him, not knowing what to do or say in that situation. She stared at him for a bit, before rolling to one side and crawling closer to him. Visenya placed her hand on Aemond’s face, forcing him to turn towards her. She scanned his face and found him as confused as she was, the difference being that the Princess had never been shy. <<Did you have your eye cut open for the sole purpose of fitting a gemstone inside it?>> She asked as if it was the most normal question in the world, <<what?>> he responded completely confused by her question. For a moment Visenya thought she had angered him because he stayed silent, <> she responded, her tone was that of a child who just got denied to play with her favorite toy. <<The eye got infected when we returned home>> Responded Aemond dryly, <<the grand maester had to cut the eyelids open and take the eye out. The Sapphire came later>> as he explained she couldn’t help but try to imagine how painful it must be to have an eye removed like that. She couldn’t blame Luke though, it had been a stupid accident during a stupid brawl that shouldn’t ever have taken place. But it was with Aemond that she had to live the rest of her life with, so she forced herself to be more sympathetic towards him. <> She whispered, caressing his ruined cheek. <<But I have to admit I find it quite attractive>> Visenya admitted smiling, <<you must be very strong to have endured it>> she joked after a moment of silence. Aemond laughed then, and maybe it was the first time she had ever heard him truly laugh. He then slid his harm under her and brought her closer, pressing their bodies together, <<maybe we shouldn’t be at war with each other>> she said as he began to kiss her jaw, her neck, and then her collarbone, <<we could accomplish so much together>> she continued as he rolled on top of her and kissed her once more, he hummed in agreement sliding his hand between her legs once again.

Visenya grabbed his face putting space between their mouths, she basked for a moment in his annoyed expression, <<but I will not give you a child now, nor tomorrow, nor this year>> she said seriously staring into his lilac orb, he let out a long breath, <<your cunt is still mine>> he said taking her hands and pinning them above her head. It was Visenya who laughed then <<for now, it is>>, it was the last thing she said before he kissed her again.

It was going to be a very long night.

Taglist: hawsx3

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afro-hispwriter · 2 years

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The Tournament(Aemond Targaryen)

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!reader

Summary- he always said he didn't have a shit about Tournaments but here he is, fighting for the Princesses hand

Warnings- jealousy, incest, aggressive Aemond, possessiveness implied, y/n likes seeing Aemond kill people

Aemond Masterlist Pinned

When Daemon sent out world his daughters hand was to be fought for in the tourneys for alliance purposes. Lords and either themselves were fighting or their sons were. You were furious that he didn't ask you or talk to you at all. Now there you were, front seats to get a close view of what happening.

"I wonder how many suitors will come up and ask for you favor." said Jace and nudged you.

"I wont give it to any of them because I hope they all die a gruesome death." You say and cross your arms.

"So aggressive." He says and laughs and you smile at him. From afar Aemond watched the encounter happen his anger and jealously just went up. He shoved his helmet on and walked to his horse. He was put in last minute, he pulled some strings to get him in the tournament.

Originally Daemon had it that two people from different houses would go up against each other and the winner could continue on to the next opponent. But Aemond persuaded the person running the tournament for him to be the main opponent for the first house chosen and to keep it away from Daemon, he wanted it to be a surprise.

All the houses lined up on their horses and a loud roar sounded throughout the crowd. The Herald started speaking, naming the rules of the tourney. He then started saying everyones name from every house present. You zoned out when he mentioned Lannister.

"The winner of this tourney will be rewarded the Hand of Princess Y/n Targaryen, of house Targaryen and Daughter of Daemon Targaryen. And a new rule has entered." Daemon squinted his eyes. "The first competitor will go against Aemond Targaryen." The crowd gasps and you shot up. Aemond? Competing?

"What?" You heard your father behind you. "Who let him in!" Oh ya. Another reason he wanted suitors to fight for your hand is because he did not like the relationship with Aemond you had. He wanted someone to keep you far away from him. And since he knew his nephew did not care for tourneys he thought he didn't have to worry about him entering. You looked back at Daemon and smirked at him and he just glared.

"Oh now you're happy." Said Jace and you smiled.

"He's going to win and father will have no choice but to let him marry me." You watched Aemond choose the Lannister Lords son then galloped over to his side. He looked at you and locked eyes, he winked before turning back his attention to the coming fight and rolled his shoulders around. He nodded to the Harold and the Harold stepped away.

It all happened so quick, the Lannister son charged first than Aemond. But the Lannister boy wasn't skilled enough to block his entire body, just thought about his face. Aemonds pole went right through the boys torso, you gasped as did the crowd followed by a cheer. But you smiled as Aemond raised his arms in victory.

His next opponents died quickly. From impact or the fight was taken to the ground and Aemond won. The last opponent was a lord from House Baratheon, Orys Baratheon ll. You've heard he was a great fighter and has great strategic thinking. You had to admit you were a little worried for him, Orys was pretty big. Before you knew it the lord was riding on his horse right in front of your stand.

"I would like to ask for the favor of Princess Y/n of House Targaryen." You rolled your eyes and sighed before standing. You walked over to the table and grabbed the ring of flowers and places on the pole.

"I hope you die a grueling death against my lover." You say loudly but not enough for the people around to hear. Orys pulled his pole down closer to him and flared at you before going to his spot. Before you went back to your seat you look to find your white haired cousin staring right back at you. You smiled slyly at him and sat down.

“I thought you weren’t going to give any of them your favor?” Asked Jace and you smirked.

“I know, but Aemonds watching and I just wanted to fuel his… desire to win.” You say and cross your legs.

Aemond glared at Orys, he was quick but not quick enough to go up to you for your favor. He jumped on his horse angrily and went to his side. He charged first followed by Orys, Aemond tried to angle his pole up but before he could do anything he was hit hard and landed on the ground with a thud. Everyone gasped and so did you, you stood up and leaned over the edge. Aemond let out a cough and gasp to try and get air back into his lungs.

“AEMOND!” He heard you scream his name and he looked up to see a mace flying down close to his face. He scrambled out of the way and onto his feet. His sword was thrown at him and he grabbed it.

“Your bitch up there is going to be mine after this, im going to make sure her belly is swelled with my children before the wedding is even planned.” Orys seethed and swung at Aemond but he dodged. Anger surged inside of Aemond, his eye twitched and the grip on his sword got tighter.

“No body.” He swung. “Will ever.” Again. “Take her.” He caught Orys off guard and slashed his wrist making him drop his mace. “Away from me.” He swung his sword in Orys’ torso and brought it back out making Orys cry put in pain and fall to his knees. He tries to tackle Aemond but Aemond slashed his face.

Aemond then bent down and grabbed the mace and places the head at his feet and tore the wooden handle off. He reached down and grabbed the mace head with his bare hands.

“Nobody.” He slammed the head down on Orys’ head making a squelching crack noise. Blood spewed everywhere, all over Aemond hands, armor, face, and hair.

You watched in awe. You had to tighten your thighs at the sight of Aemond being so brutal. You watched Orys’ fall to the ground, dead. The crowd cheered for Aemond but he wasn’t done, he got down on his knees and straddled the now dead body. He brought his hand down on the head repeatedly until there was just mush on the ground.

They had to pull Aemond off of the man. He had a crazed look in his eye, a crazed smile as he looked at the crowd. The Harold raised Aemond arm up high.

“WINNER!” The people cheered as did you. To Aemond you cheered the loudest, standing up to your feet and clapping. You ran up your stand but before you could go down the stairs to the ground, your father reached for you.

“What?” You ask and he puffs his chest before smiling his smile and reaching up to to grab a loc of your hair.

“Don’t let him hurt you.” Is all he said and let you go. You didn’t respond just ran down away to the ground. Aemond opened his arms out wide and you ran into them.

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.” He whispered into your ear and butterflies fluttered in your belly. You pulled back and tried to kiss him but he held you back. “Im covered in blood.” You shake your head.

“You just killed 10 men for me, the least I can do is kiss you.” You pulled him down to capture his lips. He pushed his tongue into your mouth and reached down to grab your ass through your dress. There were still cheers going around but you both blocked them out. Aemond pulled away to take a breath and restes his forehead on yours.

“Id kill an entire army for you.”

A/n- this 100% wasn’t my best work but i hopes you guys liked it a little

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader

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lya-dustin · 1 year

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Kepa

Build-a-fic: Dad!Aemond

Featuring: Aemon Targaryen (oc), nameless wife who is Rhaenyra’s daughter and queen of westeros making Aemond her consort.

He was seven and ten when he became a father.

Aemon was born in Dragonstone three moons after Aemond had accidentally killed Lucerys Velaryon, his own wife’s half-brother.

Aemond would not hold him until he was nearly six moons old, when his mother had escaped Kingslanding after Lady Mysaria had poisoned Rhaenyra against her own heir.

He had wept when he first held him, to see him after all those months of Aemond and his wife waited with all the fear and joy pregnancy came with.

Aemon, named after her grandmother’s father and because it was just one letter away from being Aemond.

He was the promise of peace, of knowing that he would not have his family die in a war that should have never happened to begin with.

Aemon, first of his name, king of westeros, prince of peace.

“Ke-pa.”

It is soft, but sure and accompanied but little hands trying to wake him instead of his mother on his other side.

He was a name day old, just weeks ago they had the celebratory hunt where his first words had been better than the buck he had brought down for his lovely wife and son.

Aemon had said mama a moon ago, he had never said kepa or even papa yet.

“Hmn?” Aemond is unsure if he heard it right, but his eye remains shut to see if he can get his little son to say it again.

“Ke-pa.” the boy said again, this time his little hands reaching for his good eye. “Up.”

Most children are afraid of his scars and lack of eye, but not his son, not his perfect little prince.

No, to Aemon this was familiar and comforting. Strange and yet as comforting as his favorite blanket or his dragon egg.

“You are up early this morning, ñuhe trēsi.” Aemond finds himself unable to contain a smile as he whispers to his sweet little son. “Now, if you wake up your muña, we can get started with our day.”

Translations:

Kepa: father

Ñuhe trēsi: my son

Muña: mother

#dad!aemond #aemond x rhaenyra and laenor's! daughter #aemond x reader #aemon son of aemond #build a fic #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen

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multi-fandom-simp · 9 months

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My soul, my heart, my fault

Part 1/3

Jacearys Velaryon x Velaryon!Reader (platonic, sisterly), Lucerys Velaryon x Velaryon!Reader(Platonic, sisterly), Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader(mentioned throughout)

-Reader is Laenor's legitimate child in both past and present parts of this fic.-

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: What's dead, is supposed to stay dead. However, the fates decide to make an exception in the case of your younger sibling's unjust deaths. You, who lived through the dance of the dragons, are brought back for the soul purpose of watching them grow again...or perhaps it was die again, you couldn't quite remember. (This will be a three part series)

Side Note: The areas in italics are memories, or moments of the past.

❗TW❗: Mentions of character death and actual character death, murder, angst, blood, incest?(I mean reader was Aemond's niece in past mentions), angst

(A/N: Hello! This is the first HOTD fic I've posted where the reader has a set house and set parent, but nonetheless I am not forcing you to imagine those specifics as their appearance. The reader's legitimate father in this story is Laenor. Simply because I feel like I don't see enough stories/fics with a true Velaryon reader. That being said, if you have any other fic Recs or even requests that involve a Velaryon reader, please send them my way👀. I've also thought about making a series involving a pair of Velaryon twins, so I'd love to know if anyone would be interested in that. Aside from my rambles, I tagged this as both Velaryon reader and just reader so that people may read it if they please. As always, I love to hear your thoughts and see your reactions, enjoy!)

Word Count: 3,924

“Kepus” Your small voice echoed overtop the waves that surrounded your father.

Laenor, who had been previously focused on the sea turned at your call,“ Yes, Tala”

You stumbled through the water until you were able to cling to his side,“ Why do they whisper about Jace and Luke?”

“ Because your brothers are different” Your father explained softly. His hand swept lovingly over the back of your head as you gazed up at him.

“ How so?”

His hands came down to cradle your face,“ It matters not. What matters, is that they are still your brothers. You must not let the whispers get between you and them.”

“ Nothing could ever take me from them, Kepa, I promise” Your tone was fierce, just like the blood that ran through your veins. Laenor smiled and squatted to your level, paying no mind to the water that soaked his clothes. He seemed to study you for a second as if he was committing the moment to memory.

Finally, he took a breath to speak,“ That’s good because you must protect them, Tala. You are their big sister, their fate rests with you.”

“ I can no-” Your father was quick to spot your hesitancy. The hands that once held your face now held your hands. While his features remained soft, fear was evident in his eyes.

“ -You must have no doubts. Doubts lead to death, and fate is already not on your side. Heed my words, Tala, history will repeat itself,” Whether or not he was referring to him and Laena or you and the boys, you’ll never know. What you did know was that history indeed would repeat itself.

In 129 AC, you watched your brother Lucerys Velaryon die, and in 2006 you welcomed him as he was born again as your cousin. Three-year-old you was immensely confused on why these people kept referring to him as your cousin, but as you got older you came to the realization that no one else remembered who they were and that things were different. Whilst Laenor Velayron remained your father, Rhaenyra Targaryen was not your mother. In all honesty, you were not sure who your mother was. One thing was for certain though, your brothers had been taken from you. They now grew up in a different house with no memories of all you did for them eons ago. It was as if fate itself had placed a curse on you. Still, you weren’t one to let the gods dictate your life. Once your eleventh birthday came around, you begged Nyra to let you babysit the two youngest boys. She agreed without hesitation and suddenly you were back to seeing the boys almost every other day rather than in the summers. You thought you had outsmarted time and fate themselves. Six years went by and you had managed to watch the boys grow without problems. Well aside from the fact that your father and Viserys had agreed that you and Aemond would be together for the sake of both the Velaryon and Targaryen dynasties. That was six months ago, and everything had started to decline since then. Your father had mysteriously vanished, Rhaenyra’s husband Harwin had died, and tensions between the families were at an all-time high. It wasn’t Aemond’s fault per se, he was a great partner, but you knew how this went. In the end, you would be torn between his family and your own. More specifically between your brothers and him. The mere thought of it all happening again sent your stomach into knots. If only there were a way to prevent everything, prevent time from repeating itself. Maybe then you could save your brother-

" Hellooo, are you there? Hey-" Your thoughts vanished as Jace came into view. Were you having a nightmare again? No, surely not in the middle of the day, not while the boys were here.

The realization of your whereabouts sat you upright, forcing your eyes to the couch where you had last left the youngest boys, who still sat there much to your relief,"-Shit, sorry! Did I space off again?"

"You looked like you were asleep with your eyes open, to be honest," Jace snorted, his hair was wet and a gym bag hung from his shoulder, " Rough night?"

His question was answered with a groan as you laid your cheek against the cool countertop, "I’ll take that as a yes?"

"Every night is a rough night when you have nightmares like mine" You mumble between the space in your arms, “Do you ever have weird dreams, Jace?”

Jace sat beside you, mirroring the position you had slumped into. You turned your face towards him as he spoke, "I had a dream once where I was in archery club...but I was naked, like bare as can be-"

"-You can not be serious"

"Oh but I am, and my grandfather's creepy friend Otto was the teacher. It was definitely weird, but I didn't lose sleep over it" Jace shrugged.

" Why are you guys talking like that?" Both you and Jace lift your heads to face Luke. The curly-haired boy stood on the other side of the kitchen island with his eyebrows raised.

You shrugged, “Why are you not talking like this?”

“ Because I’m a normal human being?” He questioned sarcastically, “ anyways, while I have the attention-”

“You always have the attention” Jace scoffs.

You nod in agreement,“ Mhm, it’s because he’s the favorite.”

“ Can I talk or..” Luke stands there staring at the two of you patiently, much like his mother would. Actually, it reminds you of the first time Nyra caught you sneaking the boys into the kitchens during the hour of the owl.

“You must be very quiet. Some say the kitchen maids have special abilities that let them know food has been stolen” You whisper to the boys with a suppressed grin. Each of them held lemon tarts as you securely closed the door.

Luke’s doe eyes widen with fear, “Do you think they’re witches? Will they curse us?”

“ The kitchen maids are not the ones you should be worried about” The three of you whipped around at the sound of your mother’s voice. She stood tall in the firelight, a red robe covering her as she stared down expectantly.

A nervous grin stretched across your features, “ Muna! We were just collecting lemon tarts to bring to you!”

“ You know, your father has this knack for flattering me when he’s trying to cover a lie. It would be a shame for my daughter to try and do the same” She hummed suspiciously.

“ I would never!” You cringed as you realized how identical you sounded to your kepa, “Alright, we were trying to sneak lemon tarts for ourselves, but it won’t happen again! ”

“ If you were still hungry, you should have told me so. Now, Jace, Luke, take the tarts to your chambers and go to bed please.” The boys bid Rhaenyra a good night and took off down the hall swiftly.

Your fingers fiddled with your nightdress nervously, “ I’m sorry, I did not mean to cause trouble.”

“ Oh my heart, you did not cause trouble. It is natural to sneak out at a young age, but you need to be careful here. There are people in this world who seek to hurt your brothers, and you must be their protector.” She cooed, her thumb stroking your cheek.

The fire in your eye returned once more, “ No one will hurt them. Not while I’m by their side.”

“-I’m starting to think she had a medical condition at this point” It was Jace once again who pulled you from the past, but with Luke beside him this time. The two of them both stared at you with confusion. The dry itch in your eyes became apparent as you came back into focus.

“ Maybe she’s just tired from dealing with Aemond all the time-”

You cut off Luke’s jest with a groan, “ Okay, can we not start up the hate train for my boyfriend today? I was just daydreaming, good gods.”

“ No need to start the train up when it was never off in the first place” Jace spoke teasingly. Any rebuttals that were set to come from your mouth were ceased by the constant buzzing from your phone, which laid on the counter for everyone to see.

Luke’s eyes bugged at the sight of Aemond’s contact,“ ñuha zaldrīzes?! You call him your drag-”

“Shut up!” You reached over to slap a hand over his mouth as you answered the phone, “ Aem, hey, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on? Have you looked at the time recently?” looking over to the clock, your face fell. It was twenty past seven, which meant you were twenty minutes late to your dinner with Aemond.

“I thought you would be here as soon as Jace got home, has he not arrived yet?” From beside you, Jace held a thumbs up, as if he was allowing you to use him as an excuse.

“He was a little late getting home and then we got to talking and I just-”

Aemond’s sigh drowned out your words, “-Lost track of time, yeah. It seems like that happens a lot when you’re with them.”

The boy’s watched as you visibly deflated, “Aemond, that’s not fair.”

“ Not fair? You constantly put me second to them. I am- your husband and lover. Sooner or later you will have to choose, either me or them, and I will not tolerate a bastard being put before me. Not in this lifetime or the next.”

“You are being unreasonable, Aemond!”

“ The unreasonable one is you! There is a war afoot and you insist on playing both sides. If you think this will end in a happy ever after..then you’re- mistaken. Are you even listening? Hello?” Time was running out and you could feel it. The last time Aemond had spoken those words, Luke had ended up dead hours later. With fear clouding your judgment you hung up without another word. Which probably didn’t help the situation, but what else could you do? Tell Luke what you thought would happen? No, he was only fifteen, he would be terrified. You couldn’t tell Jace, because as close as the two of you were he would still think you’re crazy. And Aemond, he was absolutely out of the question. Accusing him of something like that would drive the wedge further between the two of you.

“ You must protect them, Tala. You are their big sister, their fate rests with you.” What if I don’t know how?

“There are people in this world who seek to hurt your brothers, and you must be their protector” How can I be their protector when I brought the danger to them? Is it me? Am I the variable that needs to be changed? What if I take Luke’s place?

“ Luke-” Your throat tightened as you looked forward. The spot Luke previously stood in was empty, as was Jace’s spot beside you, “ Luke?!”

Jace reappeared from behind you,“ He went out to ride his bike.”

Confusion and worry clouded your eyes,“ It’s raining, he can’t possibly ride in this weather?!”

Jace shrugged, “I suppose the rain didn’t matter after he heard your conversation with Aemond.”

“Wha-” Fear suffocated your heart like a python. He wouldn’t confront Aemond over a silly argument, would he?

“ Before you ask, no I did not just let him walk out the door to go confront our sociopathic uncle. He isn’t that fast of a peddler, so I’ll just catch up to him in the car” You snatched the keys from Jace’s hand before he could even finish his next thought.

“ Hey-”

“- This is my fault, I’ll fix it” You spoke while making a beeline for the front door, “ I promise I’ll bring the car back in one piece, and Luke too!” You didn’t wait for Jace to reply, there was no need. Nothing he could say would change your mind.

The rain barely touched you, that’s how fast you had made it to the car. You used one hand to whip out onto the street as your other hand pulled up Aemond’s contact. It rang four, five times before going to voicemail. You tried again and again to no avail before it finally went through.

“ Hello? Aemond?” Your voice was as shaky as the car on the slick roads.

“ Are you going to hang up on me again?” His tone was short, meaning he was upset.

“ No, I was just overwhelmed-” The familiar click of a turning signal sounded throughout the car, but you weren’t turning, “ Aemond, please tell me you’re at home.”

“ I’m not. I’m on my way to pick you up” Oh gods. You couldn’t do this, not now. Why was it all happening so fast?

“ I’m not there. I went out to look for Luke. Just go back home and I will meet you there” You pleaded, which was entirely out of character for you.

“I’m not far-”

“-Aemond, please! Just this once, listen to me” You hoped the urgency in your voice would persuade him to listen. Alas, it did not, and part of you knew it wouldn’t.

“The rain is too thick to turn back now. I can barely see anything as it is” Aemond argued, “ I’ll wait at the boy’s house until you get back. I promise I won’t do anything, I won’t even get out of the car.”

Your fear regressed a little. If Aemond was out of the way, then nothing could possibly happen. This could work, or so you thought. Straight ahead, racing through the storm was Lucerys. He was completely drenched from what you could tell and barely pedaling straight. You hit the brakes and jumped out of the car.

“ Luke, get in the car!” The storm roared loudly over your voice, but he still managed to hear you.

Luke shook his head, “ I won’t let him treat you like that, not again.”

“What do you mean not again?” That’s when you noticed, Luke’s eyes were different, older, “You remember, don’t you?”

He nodded slowly, unsurely, “ When Aegon hit my head against the table at dinner last week it all came flooding back. I thought they were dreams at first, but then I noticed how different you acted. How you had changed then to now.”

“ You never said anything”

“I didn’t know that you remembered, I’m sorry” He apologized through chattering teeth.

You smiled softly, “ It doesn’t matter anymore, just come with me. Let me take you back home.”

That’s when Luke’s own smile fell, “ I can’t. I ran away from him the first time, but not this time.”

“ That wasn’t your fault, Luke. I was the one who told you to run, so please, just- take my hand!"

"I won't leave Arrax!" Luke screamed from below you, ignoring the hand that you held down towards him.

"Vhagar is set to kill Arrax. You must take my hand Lucerys, please!" Eyes as green as sea moss flashed through the heavy downpour like lightning. Eyes that held fear that chilled your bones more than the freezing rain. Next came the hand, the hand that held scars from dragon riding yet looked as soft as a handful of clouds. You reached for it amidst the haze, only it never seemed to get any closer.

“Reach further-” and that’s when you saw it, rather than when you saw him. It was Aemond atop Vhagar who appeared in what seemed like a split second. Your heartbeat quickened and you reached for Lucerys once more, except something was blinding you this time- headlights, that’s what was in your way. The beams of light raced down the street with no intention of slowing down. You would be worried about them hitting you if Luke wasn’t in between their path and you. Like before, you weren’t fast enough. Every step you took towards your brother seemed to push him father away.

“Lucerys, Move!” Your screams mingled with his as he turned too late. In what seemed like slow motion you watched as Luke rolled atop the car as it completely mangled his bike. Much to your horror, the driver slammed on their brakes, propelling Luke forward.

“No!” Your feet were moving before your brain could even process what happened, “ No, no, no, please no.”

The pavement cut into your knees as you knelt beside Luke. You pulled his head to rest on your knees, paying no mind to the blood that soaked through your pants. His eyes were open, yet lifeless. The vibrant green that they held before now shone as a dull gray. You leaned down to place your ear on his chest. Nothing. Not a single sound.

“ Lucerys please, you can’t leave me again, “ Your tears mixed with the rain, “ Come back to me, Ñuha prūmia”

“ You did well, Ñuha prūmia. Do not fret” Your sincere words traveled in one ear and out the other for Lucerys. Jace had beaten him at dueling practice yet again.

He scrunched his nose as your endearment, “ Must you call me that? It sounds girly.”

“It is a simple endearment, I mean no harm to your pride. I refer to you as my heart in the same manner that I call Jacaerys my soul” You explain softly, reaching over to ruffle his curls.

“What is Joffrey then?”

“I’m not sure,” You hum in thought, “ Perhaps he is my mind.”

He peers up at you in curiosity, “Which of the three would you say that you can not live without?”

“Mhm, my heart would be the answer. I fear I’d go mad if I ever lost you.” His cherubic smile faded to a bloody gasp. The sight alone smothered out the fire in your heart and set off a drum in your skull.

“ Is he alright? I couldn’t see him through the rain. I swear- oh gods…” Whilst still regaining focus where you sat on Storms End Avenue, you looked up to see none other than Aemond Targaryen speaking to you through the rain. His hair lay limp against his face, almost covering the grim expression he held, which seemed to darken as you came into view. You gently laid Lucerys’s head on the road below before standing on shaky legs.

“ Don’t. Don’t you dare tell me it was an accident, not again” You advanced toward Aemond until the tip of your finger dug into his chest. The patience you once had now worn thin and making way for eons of repressed anger and guilt.

Confusion danced across Aemond’s face, “ Again? What are you talking about-”

“Stop acting like you do not know!” You screamed, shoving him backward, “ I am tired of everyone acting like they know nothing when everything else is happening according to the past!”

“We can talk this out, just calm down” Aemond almost sounded like he was pleading as he reached out for you, but in truth, Aemond never pleaded to anyone. Not even the woman he claimed to love.

"Calm down?! I am to watch my brothers be murdered AGAIN and you want me to CALM DOWN?! You are wrong if you think I will sit by an.. and.. a-", the longer you stood, the worse your vision got. At this point, the pounding in your head had gotten so loud that your vision swayed. Through the dark spots blotting your eyes, you could see silhouettes of dragons dancing in the clouds and the water surrounding you turning red. Everything began to feel weightless, except your head of course.

“ Woah, hey” Aemond was there to catch you as you crumbled, “ Keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m going to call for help, but I need you to stay awake.”

You tried to stay awake, you really did, but it was all too much. The weight of it all dragged you into the darkness without a fight. It was hours before you awoke, and when you did it was in a hospital bed. A warm weight against your leg is the first thing your brain registers. Well, that and the blinding white hue of the hospital walls.

"Luke.." your throat was dry and scratchy, almost as if you had been screaming for days. Your eyes surveyed the room wearily until they landed on Jace. He must have been the warmth you were feeling. His arms lay atop the bed next to you, crossed snuggly beneath his head. You could tell the skin around his eyes was puffy and red despite them being closed. He had been crying, but over what? Was it Luke? Had last night not been just another nightmare of the past? You reached out, brushing against Jacaerys arm lightly, but still firm enough to rouse him from his sleep.

His eyes fluttered for a moment before fully snapping open, "You're awake!"

" I don't remember falling asleep.." you spoke in true confusion.

Jace's eyes seemed to soften, whether or not it was in pity or sadness you did not know," You didn't fall asleep, you collapsed. Aemond brought you in-"

" and Luke? " A part of you couldn't help but be hopeful. If you couldn't remember passing out, then perhaps Luke's death was a hallucination of your foggy memory as well. Even if the look in Jace's eyes already told you differently.

" They said he was dead upon impact. Aemond killed him." your heartbeat picked up on the monitor as Jace spoke, "I know it's not what you want you to hear, and that you love Aemond, but it's true."

"Aemond claims that he didn't see him in time. That the rain made the roads too slick and that he lost control of the car, but he’s lying" Jace seethed, paying no mind to your reaction.

"Jace-"

His eyes held fire and the smallest hint of disbelief as they flickered back to you, "Please don't defend him. Whatever you're going to say, just don't. My mother has already retaliated and I've opened a lawsuit against Aemond. There's nothing else you can say."

" You don't know that unless you let me speak" You waited for a beat of silence before continuing, "I was not going to defend Aemond. On the contrary, I was going to tell you that it wasn't an accident. It's just like before."

Jace s eyes widened, " Like before? Has Aemond killed someone else?"

You shake your head quickly, "No, not this lifetime. You misunderstand, I'm talking about when he killed Lucerys the first time."

" I'm not sure what you're talking about. None of this has ever happened before-"

The patience you once had before Lucerys's death is now long gone, "-Yes it has! You just have to remember, like Luke did. I need you to remember Jace, please, before the same happens to you."

Jace leans forward to encase both of your shaking hands," If it's the lawsuit that troubles you, then you need not worry. Nothing is going to happen to me. I've taken many precautions. Otto Hightower has agreed to meet us halfway to our beach house in Dragonstone to receive the papers. He's bringing Criston Cole as a witness and I'm bringing Corlys. Everything will run smoothly."

Halfway to Dragonstone, the gullet. You sucked in a trembling breath as images of Jacaerys' arrow-riddled body flashed before your eyes. He was close to his death and yet he didn't remember, not like Lucerys did. You were the only one left with the knowledge of what was to come… Or So you thought.

#hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen angst #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys x reader #velaryon reader #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon!reader #Lucerys Velaryon x velaryon!reader #hotd angst #angst

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goldsainz · 1 year

Text

MASTERLIST.

A/N: i’m not making a masterlist for this man, not worth it, only fic i’ll make for him ever (and i mean that because as much as i love reading about him, it would hurt my heart to write good things about him) velaryon!reader (no stating of bastard or true born, just rhaenyra’s daughter) i’d recommend listening to bigger than the whole sky because it sets the mood greatly [gif cred: @gameofthronesdaily]

WORD COUNT: 2,5k

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MORE THAN JUST A SHORT TIME

You had claimed the second largest dragon to exist, Vermithor, when you were just 9 years old.

It was a great feat, and an outworldly honour to be his rider. Though tensions weren’t as high within your family, having claimed that dragon was an obvious gain towards your side.

You had sung to him, paying no mind to the warnings of the dragon keepers as you ventured into the depths of the dragon pit. It was like a match made in heaven, as Vermithor found you worthy, being claimed once more.

You could offer a protection many dragons lacked, as did their riders. It made perfect sense in your head to advocate for yourself and go to Storm’s End with your brother, Lucerys. And even though you would be of better use somewhere else, the thought of your little brother being sent alone, even as a messenger, was outrageous in your eyes.

“It will be easy, mother. In and out, he’s just a messenger.” You continued to argue with your freshly crowned mother.

“You would be of better use elsewhere, Y/N.” Her voice was stern, you were sure she was a breath away from commanding you to drop the matter.

“What of the skies? Arrax is far too young as is Lucerys, Vermithor will serve the both of them with great protection.” Lucery’s huff was not unheard, but you chose to ignore it, you had more pressing issues.

“Lucerys will be just a messenger, what would he need protection for?”

“Our foes.” Your voice is chilly, it makes your younger brother’s hair stand up. He knows the risk, and yet he is willing to still complete his duty, but you won’t let him do it alone.

“Lord Borros is a proud man, he would not let harm come to his guest.” Your mother’s words are true, but the fear burning in the pit of your stomach could not be quelled.

“It’s a short flight, we'll be back before you know it.” You assured firmly, reaching to grab one of her hands, “Please let me do this, I will go wherever you need me to after coming back, I swear it.” Your whisper was intended only for your mother’s ears only, as she nodded her head, the rest of the people in the room awaited their Queen’s verdict.

“Princess Y/N Velaryon will aid her brother, Lucerys Velaryon, in his travel to Storm’s End to prevent any conflict that may arise.” You let out a breath, the grip you had on the table lessening in force as you looked at your brother, noting the relief of not being alone.

You stared at the ceiling above, hoping that the Gods were not playing cruel games with you. You prayed for your fears to be misplaced, that you would return home safely.

━━━━━━

Flying towards Storm’s End was more dreadful than you had anticipated. You flew over Arrax, as your own dragon shielded Lucery’s. You were both slightly shaken from the tempestuous storm coming, your hair now laid messier and more like knots form the strong winds.

Sometimes Vermithor grumbled from the thunder, as if to challenge them to be louder. You urged him to be calm, but he was set on showing his strength. Though you weren’t sure to whom.

When you finally landed you viewed the guards standing in front of Lord Borros’s hall. You hopped off from Vermithor, gracefully landing on the ground. As you walked behind your brother, you both heard a roar that made you turn.

Vhagar was here.

You had to swallow down your worries, preparing for the worst, but mostly to defend Lucerys. Something in you urged you to turn back, to denote the Baratheon’s as a lost cause, but that would not suffice. So you took all of your bravery, and continued to walk.

“I am Prince Lucerys Velaryon.” You knew him, he was fearful but still remained poised for the realm’s sake, more so your mother’s.

The guards looked at you, “I am Princess Y/N Velaryon.”

“We bring a message to Lord Borros from the Queen.”

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon.” The thundering does not stop, but as he is introduced a figure turns around.

You know exactly who it is. Aemond Targaryen had not been a pleasant surprise, but you were grateful that the sighting of his dragon could mask the utter shock of seeing him, once more.

“Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. And his sister, Princess Y/N Velaryon.” One of the Baratheon guards finished.

You held his gaze, looking straight at his eye, no fear visible for him to take advantage of.

“Lord Borros... we brought you a message from our mother... the Queen.” Lucerys says,

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King. Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.” Borros Baratheon laughs at his own jests, but you do not even twitch from it. Your posture straight, which made his laughter die as he viewed your hard stance. “What's your mother's message?”

Your brother hands it to one of his guards, so that he can place it on Lord Borros’s hand.

“Where's the bloody maester?” The maester makes haste to him, grabbing the message as he whispers it’s content to him.

Whilst you awaited for him to finish, you quickly avert your eye to your once lover, now enemy. It seems the joy shared just days ago quickly died, as did the memories of you and him together in your heart. Replaced by betrayal, the usurping of your mother’s throne no doubt supported by his end.

“"Remind" me of my father's oath. King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact.” The smirk on Aemond’s face never leaves him, only seeming to be reinforced by his seeming victory, “If I do as your mother bids... which one of my daughters will you wed... boy?”

“My lord... I am not free to marry. I'm already betrothed.” At Lucerys’s words, your uncle smirks more, the change noticeable to the both of you.

“So you come with empty hands. Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.

“I shall take your answer to the Queen, my lord.” Your brother says, making his way out of the Hall. You follow in suit, your hand still gripping the sword on your hip tightly.

“Wait... my Lord Strong.” You tense at his voice, watching as Lucerys turns to him. “Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?”

“I will not fight you. I came as a messenger, not a warrior.

“A fight would be little challenge. No. I want you to put out your eye. As payment for mine. One will serve.” Aemond takes of his eyepatch, his sapphire eye a sight you often saw in the privacy of your chambers. He then proceeds to take out a dagger, throwing it onto the ground. You step in front of your little brother, cocking your head to the side as if to challenge him. “I would not blind you. Mm, plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

“He will do no such thing.” You seethe, your voice overpowering your brother’s “No”.

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor.” Aemond seems to come to his own conclusion, but you just scoff at the irony of his words.

“Says the usurper’s brother.” He smirks at your words, only infuriating you more.

“Not here.”

“Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!” You take out your sword, pointing it to him, watching as he runs towards the both of you. Lucerys has taken out his own, too, but you know that only one of you can put up a fight against him. It seems your fears were correct, you only wished they didn’t escalate further than mere threats.

“Not in my hall! The boy came as an envoy. I'll not have bloodshed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys and Princess Y/N back to their dragons.” The three of you make no move, “Now.”

You made your way to the exit, gripping your brother’s hand to show even the slightest of comforts to him. You shuddered out a breath as you noticed the terrible storm you now had to fly in.

You watched Lucerys run to Arrax, the dragon meeting him halfway. You avert your gaze from them, looking out for Vhagar, but she was nowhere to be seen, and that made you tremble. And the cold was not at fault.

“Sōvēs, Vermithor!” You took off when Arrax did, following them from behind this time.

You yelped when you saw Vhagar appear above you, watching intently as your brother appeared to be shaken from the scare.

Aemond’ laugh was cruel, not the one you loved. It made you gulp, trying to maintain Vermithor at bay as he sensed your worries. You had a great bond with him, but he was not called the Bronze Fury for nothing, and now was not the time for him to show it.

Aemond shouted things you couldn’t quite make out with the heavy storm, but what you could make out was Vhagar trying to bite Lucerys and his dragon like it was her last meal. Though Vermithor was big, he paled in comparison to the mighty Visenya’s dragon. Which is why you feared greatly for Arrax, who in your eyes was still just a baby.

Your brother shouted for his dragon to turn quickly. You gripped the reins and flew after him, swishing around Vhagar who seemed to not be bothered by the big dragon by her side. The same could not be said for her rider, who was watching you attentively.

As Lucerys entered a narrow passage made of rocks, you were below Vhagar but still slightly behind her. You now set your eyes only on Lucerys, making sure not to lose your sight on him.

Aemond continued to laugh, talking to the rain about how he was still owed a debt. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, wind jig what possessed him to create such a dangerous chase for something that had not great value now. He had claimed Vhagar, wasn’t that what he once called, a fair exchange?

You were suddenly pulled down by your dragon, no command needed as you watched fire be thrown to Vhagar, some of the heat reaching you. Vermithor seemed to be aware of his surroundings more than you were, but you were frightened, he did something under no command. Yes, he had saved you from being burnt, but who could say what more would be done without your word.

“No, no, no, no, no! No, Vhagar! No!” Aemond shouted to his dragon, who seemed to have made her own mind up as to what she would do in retaliation.

Vermithor roared, a protective nature you had now passed onto him. He quickened his flight to reach Arrax faster than Vhagar, and you were now flying upwards, reaching a clear sky.

Vermithor was now surveying the new landscape, he was near your brother but not close enough to shield him from the wide mouth of Vhagar.

It had happened far too quickly for the both of you, the screech from Arrax, the frightened scream of Lucerys, and the chilling roar of Vhagar. In just a second you had watched your brother fall from the sky, whatever was left from his dragon almost grazed you.

You looked to Aemond, who seemed just as distraught, the evident loss of control over his own dragon did nothing to your growing anger. There was no time to truly grasp the severity of the situation, your new mission was to get to Dragonstone physically intact.

“Sagon adere, Vermithor, adere!” You shouted to your own dragon. Be fast, Vermithor, fast!

The chase was now bloodier, it was no longer a game of a scorned man, but that of a war scarred dragon. Vermithor was thankfully faster than Arrax could have ever been, which was why you had managed to loose Vhagar in the clouds. Though you could still hear her roar every once in a while, you weren’t sure if it was true or just your imagination replaying it.

But you knew one thing for certain: this meant war. This was one of the biggest crimes a man could commit, and you would make sure it was known by every single lord lyal to the Blacks or Greens, the world would know.

Aemond Targaryen was a kinslayer, and your little brother had been his victim.

━━━━━━

When you reached Dragonstone, only then did tears start falling from your eyes. Vermithor wailed as he felt your pain.

You sobbed still sitting on your dragon, you hadn’t even reached the dragon keepers, resting by the mount. You felt helpless, like a failure, you had been sent to avoid anything even touching Lucerys. Yet here you were, without your brother, mourning over a loss you had witnessed.

It shouldn’t have been him, he was young, far too young, with so much life to be lived. What were you supposed to say? There were no words that could ever suffice for the horrible event that had happened.

Your mother had lost her daughter just hours ago, and now, Lucerys was gone too. You screamed in agony, hitting the saddle with all of your might, knowing Vermithor would just barely feel it. He roared loudly, and if the people at Dragonstone hadn’t heard him before, they had now.

You cried for what felt like hours, until your face felt dry from the tears. Your eyes were red, your face puffy, all things you rarely saw from yourself. You didn’t even bother fixing your soaked hair as you commanded your dragon to fly towards the dragon pit.

The keepers made now questions with your state, already fearing the wrath painted all over their Princess’s face. You walked painfully slowly towards your mother, not giving any time for the guards to open any doors or announce your presence to her. You only stood in front of her from the other end of the table.

Daemon sensed something was wrong with his daughter, ordering the room to be cleared. All of the lords and guards left as quickly as their feet allowed them too.

“Where is Lucerys, Y/N?” Your mother carefully asked, watching you intently as you made your way to her.

You didn’t dare to look at her, tears dripping onto the floor. You heard her take a sharp breath, turning to look at the fireplace. You saw Daemon follow in suit, his hand intertwined with hers.

When she turned around, you glanced up and saw a look on her face that could only mean trouble. There was no way to go back now, any ounce of mercy that existed inside her, was now gone.

You bowed your head to her, your lips trembling from grief and rage.

Lucerys would be avenged.

#*ੈ✩༄ my works !#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #ewan mitchell #lucerys velaryon #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond fic #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen x female reader

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damn-stark · 11 months

Text

Chapter 8 Chateau

Chapter 8 of Moonlight

A/N- Y/N and young Rhaenyra would’ve been the bestest of friends.

Warning- Swearing, angst, FLUFF, talks of blood, death, miscarriage, pregnancy, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 1x08-1x09

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

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“…and he said to me, well you’re sort of beautiful. So I look at him confused.” You gossip with Rhaena and Baela about a memory from your years in Winterfell. “I'm like, I'm either one or the other, tell me if I should be offended or touched.”

Rhaena giggles and leans in closer to you. “What did he say?”

You grab onto the edge of the dinner table and lean in between the both of them to whisper. “He went on to throw up on himself,” you grumble while Baela and Rhaena complain in disgust.

“But! The next day he said the same thing to another girl, so,” you snicker, “my friends and I grabbed him after he blacked out and lay him in front of Astraea. When he woke up he shit his pants in front of all the ladies he had been hitting on.”

The three of you burst out laughing at your story, causing Jacaerys to shove himself between Baela and you. “What’s so funny?” He asks.

You part your lips to answer, but Baela cuts him off. “Lady business.”

You peer back at him and snicker.

“Well,” he counters nonchalantly and begins to smirk. “I suppose I won’t share what I just told Lucerys.”

Your curiosity piques and without an ounce of hesitation you look back at him, noticing him looking all smug.

However, before he can even try and continue, the hall doors open and guards carrying your grandfather in a chair walk in, silencing the chatter that filled the room and making everyone, including you, who was sitting down to stand up in respect of the King's arrival.

“Tell us later,” you whisper to your brother.

He leans over and counters. “As long as you tell me what you shared.”

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eyes and nod in agreement. You then focus back on the King getting carried to his spot around the table, and only go to your spot beside Aemond once the King is placed in the middle of the table.

“How good it is,” your grandfather interjects in his raspy voice. “To see you all tonight…together.” He finishes saying and takes a moment to examine everyone gathered around the table.

“Prayer before we begin?” Alicent cuts in and asks her husband, the King.

He looks over at her and nod. “Yes,” he whispers.

You sigh and clasp your hands together over the table, you don’t close your eyes like Alicent and her family do. Even if you do follow the Old Gods, you don’t much pray to them over dinner, or make it your entire personality like Alicent with her New Gods, but out of respect you stay quiet and listen to her.

“May the Mother smile down on the gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for too long.”

You drop your head and shake your head at her comment.

Now who’s fault is this strain exactly? Your mother was nothing but patient the years she lived here with you and your siblings, the boys only messed around with another because they were just children messing around. The only reason you don’t like Aegon is because he’s a creep with the ladies. But the hostility? The name calling? That was all her, Alicent.

So please can she stop acting?

“…And to Vaemond Velaryon, May the gods give him rest.”

Okay, now that time has passed you have to admit even if you don’t want to…what Daemon did to him was…well deserved. You won't praise the man, but it was impressive. After the disgust and horror passed of course.

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems,” your grandfather adds, pulling your gaze back over the table—“My grandsons, Jace and Luke will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena.”

You smile at the newly betrothed and reach over for your goblet.

“Further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Princes…and their betrothed.”

A grin spreads on your lips and you don’t fret to raise your cup to them all.

“Hear, hear!” Daemon exclaims.

As you take a sip from your wine you reach over and interlace your fingers with Aemond’s. He immediately glances over and puts his goblet down to lean over to press a kiss on the side of your head, making you smile and tighten your hold around his.

“Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys,” the King adds. “The future Lord of the Tides.”

You raise your cup again and this time you exclaim. “Hear, hear!”

Lucerys gaze finds you and a thankful smile shows on his lips before he snaps his gaze to Rhaena.

“You’ll be great,” she compliments him, making you smile softly with joy that she is so kind to him. He deserves someone as kind as she is.

“It both gladdens my heart…” your grandfather keeps speaking, this time he’s on his feet. “And fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world…yet grown so distant from each other…in the years past.”

You swallow thickly and begin to caress the back of Aemond’s hand with your thumb.

At the feeling his eyes fall on you, you can feel them linger as you watch with hesitation while your grandfather begins to take his mask off.

You’ve seen him without it on a few times, but seeing the muscles of his cheek stick out still brings you goosebumps. Not his eye socket though, Aemond and him and share that similarity, you’ve helped Aemond clean his fleshy eye socket before, but the flesh on your grandfathers cheek is not the same.

“My old face…is no longer a handsome one…if it indeed ever was. But tonight,” he mutters. “I wish you to see me…as I am. Not just a King…but your father. Your brother. Your husband…and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems…walk for much longer among you.”

You let out a deep breath and avert your gaze to avoid having them cloud with tears. Aemond notices and pulls your hand to his lap to hold your hand with the both of his.

“Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts,” he goes on and slams his cane against the floor. “The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances, if not for the sake of the crown…then for the sake of this old man, who loves you all so dearly.” He lets out a heavy breath and sits back down, letting your mother abruptly stand up with her goblet in the air.

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen,” your mother interjects, catching you off guard. “I love my father, but I must admit that no one has stood…more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with…unfailing devotion, love and honor. And for that she has my gratitude…and my apology.”

You grab your goblet again and take a small drink.

“I also would like to add,” your mother says a bit softer this time, and with a smile she directs at you. “How thankful I am to my daughter y/n, and Prince Aemond, you have made me a grandmother…”

You smile brightly and share your glee with Aemond.

“…I am thankful for that everyday. To Aerion, may he continue to grow and be happy.”

“Hear, hear,” Alicent says quietly, whilst Aemond, you and everyone around the table takes a drink.

“I will also like to add,” Alicent continues to say. “That your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers…and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow.” She then stands and raises her goblet. “I raise my cup to you…and to your house. You will make a fine Queen.”

You bring your cup to your lips and take the last sip of wine before you stand up as well, causing one of your hands to slip off Aemond’s. “I would like to toast to my mother and family, 6 six years was far too long and I'm glad to see you all again. I missed you all…And to my brothers.” You smile, whilst a servant refills your goblet. “And Rhaena and Baela. May you share a loving and fruitful marriage.” You sit back down and take a drink the same time your family does too.

Silence falls after that, letting you reach over to grab some fruit from the trays. When you sit back down and plop a grape on your mouth, suddenly Jacaerys slams his hands on the table and gets up, pulling the attention of everyone and bringing a deafening silence to the table.

You raise your eyebrow and squint your gaze in confusion, but Jacaerys just clears his throat and only provides you with more confusion.

Albeit that quickly washes away as Aemond stands up and stares your brother down.

“Aemond,” you whisper and take his hand.

Said man keeps his glare on Jacaerys, adding tension to the table. You follow his line of gaze and watch your brother playfully hit Aegon's arm before raising his cup and meeting your husband's gaze.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond…”

You swallow thickly and look up at Aemond again to plead. “<Aemond, my love, please.>”

Aemond blinks and meets your gaze briefly before looking back at Jacaerys, and sighing as he slowly sits back down to just listen.

“We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends, and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles.” Jacaerys raises his cup, followed by Baela.

The awkward tension doesn't leave but you slowly drink to that while you wrap your hand around Aemond’s arm.

“To you as well,” Aegon adds awkwardly.

Now you want this to come to an end before things turn bad. Aemond already seems more upset than he already was, he pulls his arm from under your grasp and you know it’s because you were trying to stop him from overreacting.

You howbeit don’t take offense to his petty act, you find it funny and immediately put your hand over his again. Aemond slowly drags his eye to the side, and you slowly do the same and shoot him a playful smirk.

He sighs and looks away to take his hand away again, but you pull it down and rub his hand against your thigh before you lean close to his ear to whisper cockily. “You can be upset all you want, it makes for a more entertaining night.”

The corner of Aemond’s lips twitch to a smile, but he doesn’t let it show in front of the others.

“Just a little longer, okay?” You assure him and then press a kiss on his cheek before you look to your other side as Helaena gets up too.

“I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena,” Helaena says. “They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you…”

Aemond grips onto your thigh before you both share awkward glances due to his sister's speech.

“…except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Scattered laughs spread around the table, but you just blink and glare over at Aegon.

“Let us have some music,” your grandfather brings an end to the toast, letting you turn to face Aemond.

“So I thought,” you tell him, gaining his full attention. “If my family doesn’t end up staying long, after Aerion and I come back from Dragonstone, we go to the vacation house. Present Aerion to the countryside, just be alone and have calm nights, hm?” You press.

Nevertheless, Aemond’s attention drifts behind you rather quickly, you follow his line of gaze and look back, noticing Jacaerys and Helaena starting to dance.

“Aw,” you grin. “How adorable.”

Aemond hums dryly, letting you know he didn't like it one bit, so you block his line of gaze and distract him. “So what do you say? After I come back, we take a nice trip?”

“All right,” he agrees with his gaze holding yours.

You beam at him and steal a kiss from his lips before you face the table again.

Yet just before you can grab food, a shadow gets cast over you, and Aemond’s grip on your thigh tightens.

“Sister,” you recognize Lucerys say, making you look over at him standing beside your chair with his hand out. “Would you like to dance?” He asks and slides his gaze to Aemond at your other side to shoot him a small smirk. “If that’s okay of course.”

Even if it is for some stupid game to annoy Aemond, you gladly take your brother's hand and don’t even ask Aemond for permission because Lucerys is your little brother. You don’t need permission to dance with him.

However, as you do follow Lucerys out to the floor you do feel Aemond’s gaze on you. When you come to a brief stop and grab your brother's hands, you do look back and see exactly that, Aemond watching Lucerys and you carefully, as if your brother was going to suddenly just steal you or something.

Just to assure Aemond of his ridiculous concern you offer him a soft smile before you begin to follow Lucerys’s lead.

“You’ve come a long way from dancing on my feet,” you tell Lucerys as you pull apart and continue to dance. “I’m impressed.”

“There’s not much to do at Dragonstone,” he comments whilst you both hook your arms around each others and spin slowly to the beat. “Besides mother made us take lessons.”

You giggle. “Well, you’ll make your future wife very happy. It’s always impressive when a man is a willing dance partner.”

“Is it?” Lucerys asks.

You nod. “It is. It’s a way to a woman’s heart. For some anyway.”

He snickers and glances back at Rhaena before he meets your gaze. “What’s the other?”

You grin in awe. “Attention,” you let him know. “Listening. Affection and humor.”

Lucerys hums softly before you link arms again and begin spinning slowly once more.

“Dragonstone wasn’t the same without you,” he says again. “We missed you.”

You hold his gaze and offer him a sweeter smile. “I missed you. I’m happy you haven’t changed. Don’t let anyone change you.” You proceed to grab hands and dance around Helaena and Jacaerys before you turn back to back and lift your arms up, and then pull away and turn to face each other again.

However, before you can continue you both come to a slow stop as you catch your grandfather getting carried out. You watch him be taken away, you hear him groan in pain and feel pity that he can’t be the man he once was.

At least he got to witness a part of this dinner with all his family.

Nevertheless, after he is taken out of the room, the roasted pig is brought in so you don’t continue to dance, instead you point to the table. “Let’s go eat some dinner, hm?”

Lucerys nods before laughing as he walks you to your chair. “You sound like mother.”

You flash him a simple happy smile before you take your seat beside Aemond once again and watch your brother return to his seat across the table. And now that you are seated, Aemond fixes his chair to the way it was before.

“I’m still here,” you tease him and take his hand once more. “But if you were so worried you should’ve danced with me.”

Aemond hums, making you snicker before you change the subject.

“Later, I have something I want to give you. It…took me a long while to perfect, but I think you’ll like it.”

Aemond blinks before turning his head to face you with confusion and curiosity. “What is it?” He asks.

You shrug sweetly and bat your lashes. “Just have to wait and see. Or I’ll tell you now if you dance with me?” You press and smirk. “Hm?”

Aemond looks at the dance floor that Jacaerys and Helaena still occupy before meeting your gaze and letting out a deep sigh. “Fine.”

You blink in surprise and pull back. “Really?” You ask him now. “You’ll dance with me?”

Aemond nods. “I will.”

You beam at him with awe and excitement, but…just as you stand up, and before you can pull him up, his gaze drifts away for a second, only a few moments, but it’s long enough for him to catch something that pisses him off and has him ripping his arm from your grasp to slam his hand on the table and cutting off all noise that traveled within.

“Final tribute,” he interjects. “To the health of my nephews.”

Your smile fades completely. Instead you begin to nervously bite the inside of your cheek.

“Jace,” Aemond names. “Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” he takes a long pause as he stares Lucerys down again.

“Aemond,” you warn without an ounce of softness in your tone this time.

But of course he ignores you.

“Hm,” he hums. “Strong.”

You clench your jaw and fill with anger. Not because he dared to say that to them, there’s no need fueling those comments, it’s that he dared to ruin this supper. That he couldn’t just hold it in and silently just glare and hate. That’s what you’re doing with Daemon.

“Aemond,” his mother attempts to stop him too.

“Come,” Aemond continues and ignores Alicent as well. “Let us drain our cups to these three…strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again,” Jacaerys snaps at him angrily.

“Why?” Aemond counters and faces him with his cup raised. “‘Twas only a compliment.” He breaks away from his spot and passes you to stride to Jacaerys. “Do you not think yourself strong?”

You know Jacaerys has a short temper, you know Aemond doesn’t hold back, so you slowly follow after him and try to plead again. “Aemond, please stop.”

Yet now rather than ending up being hit after trying to stop a fight, Jacaerys swings his fist across Aemond’s face.

However, it doesn’t seem to affect Aemond as much, he doesn’t even drop his wine or sway. It’s impressive, it impresses you, but now wasn’t the time. Besides as Jacaerys and Aemond confront each other, from the corner of your eye you catch Aegon slam Lucerys face in the table.

Now rather than staying put and trying to plead, as if triggered by your brothers pain and the anger Aemond made you feel, you charge at Aegon without hesitation and quickly slam your hand on the back of his head and clutch a chunk of hair. You then grab his shoulder and shove him back harshly.

When Aegon finds his footing he looks at you bewildered, but that expression is quickly wiped away as you then proceed to swing your right fist across his face harshly, causing him to stumble back.

“Try that again,” you snap at Aegon.

Guards head over to you to try and stop you, but before they can try and touch you a threatening “don’t,” is snapped at them.

You quickly dart your gaze to the side and see Daemon stop by you, challenging the guards with his glare alone. They don’t dare move to you now, nor do they hold Aegon back. Not like he made any attempt to hit back, he just holds his cheek in complete surprise.

When he catches your gaze he pulls his hand away. That’s when you notice a small bleeding cut under his eye that you had made.

You should feel bad, but you don’t, you actually feel proud that you managed to hurt him. Besides Aegon doesn’t seem at all affected, he notices the blood and begins to chuckle before he walks away.

You scoff and roll your eyes, catching the guards failing to hold Jacaerys back now.

“…Though it seems my nephews aren’t so proud of there’s!” You now hear Aemond exclaim as strides back to Jacaerys.

You turn completely to face the scene, but before you can even think of getting in between them, your mothers hand falls on your wrist, stopping you.

“Wait! Wait!” Daemon interjects and strides over nonchalantly between both young men, having the both of them stop in their attempts to continue fighting. He then proceeds to face Jacaerys, and walks him back without the need to say anything.

“Go to your quarters,” your mother orders your brothers and cousins behind you. “All of you. Now.”

You glance over your shoulder and watch them all leave. When they’re gone you focus back on Aemond, seeing him hold Daemon’s glare in silence.

You tighten your hold around your mothers and watch them both carefully, readying yourself in case either snapped, but Aemond then hums and walks away, bringing the entire supper to a tragic end.

“If you still wish to accompany us to Dragonstone, my Sweet,” your mother interjects. “Pack what you need, we’re leaving.”

You watch Aemond leave out the hall before you face your mother and nod in comprehension. “I will. I’ll see you in a bit then?”

She nods, letting you let her go and leave the hall after Aemond. Yet you don’t pick up your pace to catch up to him, you stay in your own pace behind him, trying to calm yourself down before walking in your shared quarters. But ultimately failing when you are in the privacy of your chambers.

You don’t speak to another right away though. You let a tension fill the room since Vanessa walks in only a few minutes later.

“Pack for a week's worth,” you let her know as you walk to your closet. “We won’t stay long. And after that please, put Wolf in his crate, we'll take him too. And then take Aerion, we’ll ride with my mother and…dare I say it…my step-father.” You sigh deeply.

“Right away, Princess,” Vanessa says and walks up behind you to take the gowns you were picking out from your hands. “Should I pack riding outfits?”

“Hm.” You step back and briefly glance at her. “Yes, just two.”

Vanessa nods, but she then stops what she’s doing and meets your gaze. “I can do it. I know you well, I won’t be long.”

You share a soft laugh before you let her do her job. Yet now you return to the tension, but! He never looks bothered by any of it! You can be upset at one another and he always looks nonchalant and it irks you! You want him to be mad at you, you want him to react, not just sit there and brood in front of the fire.

“Whatever it is you want to say,” Aemond suddenly makes you jump. “Say it. You’ll bleed if you bite your tongue any harder.”

You clasp your hands together and slowly begin to just fiddle with your hands as you begin pacing with your mouth shut. Vanessa is still here, and you don’t want to have an audience.

“Unless you want to leave upset,” he adds and keeps looking at the fire.

When you don’t respond, he presses and finally peers back at you. “Hm?”

You stop your pacing behind him and let out a frustrated breath, but don’t start just yet, you wait. Only until Vanessa is out and no longer in the hall you start and give him what he wants.

“Why did you do it?” You mutter out.

Aemond remains as he is as he answers. “I didn’t do anything, I gave a toast, your brother—”

“No,” you cut him off and storm around him to stand in front of him so he can see your anger. “No don’t…bullshit me Aemond. Seven hells, you antagonized them.”

Aemond finally meets your gaze, and you deepen your scowl.

“He hit me first,” he spats but in a very collected manner. “Or are you choosing not to see that?”

You shake your head. “I’m not siding with either of you. It was stupid that he hit you, and it was stupid of you to provoke him.”

Aemond blinks in surprise and finally chooses to slowly stand to his given his height as if trying to intimidate you, but you aren’t at all affected.

“I try to be understanding, I always have,” you continue to argue and step back as he steps forward. “I never try to take sides or try to tell you how to feel, but when you provoke them I can’t help but get mad at you. I told you to wait it out, just for dinner, but…” you sigh and shake your head. “You can’t even do that.”

“He hit me first, what did you want me to do?” He argues and takes a step towards you again, this time you stay put, this time you’re the one nonchalant. And finally you get a reaction you want. Your calm demeanor pisses him off, you can tell by the way he clenches his jaw, flares his nose and curls his thin lips.

“You hit Aegon, do you see me remarking on that?” He spats.

You scoff. “I don’t give a shit about Aegon. Your brother is a bad guy, he deserved it.”

“Did I?” He cuts in bluntly.

“No,” you quickly assure him. “No. But I wanted you to just listen. To me. I told you to sit through it. I didn’t say get over it, but you started it.” You swallow thickly and turn away to avoid shedding angry tears. “If you have so much hatred for my brothers…then how can you honestly love me?” You ask completely vulnerable.

“You aren’t the same as them,” he assures you as he grabs your shoulders.

You want to say it, say what he’s thinking. A bastard, but you can’t, so you bite your tongue and watch the flames.

“You never have been,” Aemond continues. “You’ve never been cruel to me, not when we were kids. You never laughed at me because of what I lacked. Even when I lost my eye and people looked at me with disgust, you never scrunched your nose. As we got older you still pick me.”

…well…

“That’s why I love you,” he says and turns you around before he lifts your head with his knuckle. “Forgive me for upsetting you. I won’t apologize for what I did, I would be lying if I did.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

“But,” he adds and cups your face. “I am sorry for upsetting you.”

You hum and glance at his lips after those words left his mouth.

“Say you forgive me. I don’t want to leave things like this.”

You draw in a deep breath and touch his chest. “Just,” you breathe out. “Please stop provoking them. Stop with the snide comments. It’s okay to still be upset, I…could never understand what you feel, I could never ask you to forgive him, them. But please for me…for Aerion, just leave them alone. You are better than that, Aemond. I know it. You have a good heart, you always have.”

Aemond’s gaze softens and he immediately presses his forehead against yours, letting you then cup his cheeks and slide your hands to the back of his head.

“I’m sorry too,” you add. “I shouldn't have gotten so angry at you.”

Aemond shakes his head and assures you softly. “There’s no need for apologies, not from you.”

You flash him a gri, and then gently press your lips against his. He doesn’t kiss you back right away, he savors the taste of your kiss and when you’re about to pull back he pulls you back in.

The kiss is slow and gentle, neither of you try to rush anything, you let your affection for each other control you. All you know is that you were going to be late meeting your mother and the rest.

“I…” you say between the slow kisses. “I’m not bleeding. It was a false alarm. We can do this. I want you, so I can remember how you felt when I’m alone.”

Aemond chuckles softly and meets your gaze with a smirk. “I wouldn't have cared if you were.”

You mirror his gesture and before long those slow and sweet kisses turn rougher. Neither of you take long to rip each others clothes off your bodies, you don’t prolong what you both want and don’t bother to go to bed. You start on the couch he was sitting on before and end up finishing on the ground in front of the fire with you on top of him.

“I will never get tired of this,” you murmur as you caress his chest and lose your gaze on the ground. “This is better than flying.”

Aemond chuckles. “I have to admit it is.”

You smile and press a kiss on his chest before you slide your chin to the side, and rest it on his chest so you can look him in the eye. “Once we move to Dragonstone, you will get tired of me.”

Aemond scoffs. “I never could. Never.”

You offer him a soft smile before you sit up and grab his shoulders. “That’s right! My present!” You giggle and then slide off him to run to the chest in your room. Aemond sits up and watches your naked body with a smirk and a craving for more.

“Since we did get married so suddenly I couldn’t have this made before, but…” you trail off to pull out a long sheathed weapon. “…I do have it now. That’s what counts.” You turn around and show off the sheathed sword. “This is for you my love.” You rush back to him, but he meets you halfway so you wouldn't have to carry it all the way to him. “I do hope you like it. And any adjustments you may need, let the smith know.”

Aemond takes the sheathed weapon from you with hesitance as if he doesn’t believe you’re being honest.

��Come on,” you encourage him. “Open it.”

Aemond takes a moment and looks at you first with awe before he unwraps the pommel first, showing off a dragon's head that is shaped like Vhagar.

You can’t contain your excitement and point at the gems where the eyes are meant to be. “Tiny green emeralds for the eyes because your dragon is green,” you grin and shake his arm. “Go on, reveal the blade!”

Aemond drops his gaze and can’t hide his grin as he unsheathes the long blade that glimmered brightly against the fires light.

“Now,” you add as you wrap your arms around his neck to admire the silver blade mixed with the dark metal that is Valyrian steel. “I know it isn't fully Valyrian Steel, but…I used my chain necklace to mix some in. Now you’ll always carry a bit of me with you, even when we’re apart.” You look at him and admire him tracing the dark metal elegantly swirled in the blade with his finger.

“Do you like it?” You whisper.

Aemond lifts his gaze and then proceeds to put the sword down before turning around to face you with a sweet and soft smile that he only let you see. He looks at you with so much love that you can’t help but fall in love.

“I love it,” he says before he kisses you. Yet it doesn’t last long because he pulls back and whispers against your lips. “I love you.”

You smile softly with awe and don’t hesitate to repeat those words that once tasted bitter when you spoke them to him. “I love you too. Now and forever.” You mean your words of affection. Truly.

“Now and forever,” he repeats.

With one more kiss from his lips you then quickly dress yourself and fix what was messed up. Before leaving to meet with your mother to leave King's Landing, you have Aerion brought it in. “Now my sweet boy,” you tell him. “Say goodbye to your father.”

Aerion eyes fill with tears and his pout trembles.

“You’ll sleep again soon enough,” Aemond assures the cranky baby. “I’ll see you in a week's time.” He presses a kiss on Aerion’s head of curls, and caresses his head one more time before he gives you attention. “Send a Raven if anything happens. I’ll write to you later.”

You nod and steal one more kiss, you linger in each other's taste before you pull away and force yourself to leave before you change your mind and stay with Aemond.

Once you finally meet up with your family to leave, Jacaerys groans. “What took you so long?” He complains.

You shoot him a glare and shake your head. “Don’t worry about it.” Since your mother is already waiting in the carriage you quickly climb in with Aerion and apologize to her only once you’re sat down. You completely ignore Daemon.

“Sorry,” you breathe out. “We can leave now.”

The carriage door closes behind Lucerys and both of your brothers squeeze in with you….Even if there’s more space in this moving carriage beside your mother, or quite literally on the same bench.

“Come on little prince,” Jacaerys says and reaches over to take Aerion from you.

Aerion albeit frowns at him and looks away from him.

“Oh, I see,” Jacaerys comments and hits his hands on his thighs. “He takes after his father then.”

You scoff and shake your head. “No,” you counter quickly and smile at your baby boy. “He just got woken up from his slumber. He’s just cranky. Aren’t you? But after he gets his sleep then he’ll let you carry him.” You lift Aerion up to get him comfortable, but before you can cradle him in your arms, your mother interjects.

“Give him here, I can put him to sleep.”

“Okay,” you whisper happily and hand her Aerion.

You expect him to cry or try to reach out for you, but his eyes just water for a moment before he exhales deeply and gets comfortable in your mother's arms.

“He just didn’t like you,” Lucerys teases Jacaerys. “It’s a you thing.”

You snicker and both Lucerys and you nudge him.

“Sure,” Jacaerys grumbles and rolls his eyes. “Anyway!” He hits his thighs. “Let’s change the subject to what I heard happen tonight.”

They heard Aemond and you making love?

Couldn’t be, they're not on the same floor—seven hells. Your balcony door was open though….

“I heard you punched Aegon.”

Oh, oh! Good. That was scary for a moment.

“Yes she did,” Lucerys cuts in with excitement. “That ring of hers cut him.”

You begin to smirk. “He deserved it,” you say smugly. “But I can’t brag…he’s a weak fighter. You can even take him,” you playfully jab at Jacaerys.

Your brother shoots you a pointed look, and Lucerys snickers.

“How did you learn to hit like that?” Daemon interrupts, causing your amusement to flicker with annoyance and distaste—“the swing seemed practiced.”

“From lurking in the shadows like a creep,” Jacaerys blurts to try and get back at you.

You just roll your eyes and push him away. You didn’t want to answer, but your mother was here, she also awaited your answer with Aerion falling asleep in her arms, so as to not upset her, you spare one glance at Daemon and reply.

“I learned when I was young…Since I’m a Princess I wasn’t allowed to train like the boys, so,” you sigh and smirk at him. “I watched everything they did and taught myself to do it better.”

A proud smile tugs on your mothers lips, and even if you don’t want to notice, a smirk flashes on Daemon’s lips.

“Besides,” you add and grin brightly. “Ser Harwin always said that nothing is more powerful than a strong right hook. He taught me how to throw a punch.”

“We’ll see how good you are with a sword,” Jacaerys taunts you, pulling your attention to him.

“Yeah,” you give in to his offer smugly. “We’ll see.”

——

*A DAY LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

Everyday at King’s Landing can never measure up to this very moment with your family. You’ve missed it, all of the chaos, the comfortable atmosphere, even if you have your differences with Daemon, his presence doesn’t bother you as much—you don’t let it bother you as much anyway.

At King’s Landing with Aemond’s family it’s always so awkward, they’re never together as one. They spend breakfasts apart, dinners are hardly eaten together and there’s always some kind of uncomfortable tension. It’s why you just spend time alone with Aemond and Aerion, being with the Queen, her father and the other kids is awkward. Besides, no one at King’s Landing besides Vanessa knows how to style your hair.

“Higher. Raise your blade higher!” Jacaerys scolds Lucerys.

“Mother,” you break your silence and look away from your brothers sparring to mindlessly watch the sand.

She hums in response, letting you continue.

“In our family history…” you pause and blink to glance over at Rhaena playing with Aerion. “Has there ever been Targaryen’s who may be…immune to fire?”

There has to be an answer for the stuff you’ve noticed. A small mention in your history books.

“Hm, not that I can recall,” she responds and reaches down to pick up a golden cuff from your palm to put it on your hair. “We are known to tolerate heat more than an average person can, but no, there hasn’t been any fire immune Targaryen’s recorded. If there had been we would have known, right?”

Nothing but more questions.

“That’s right,” you agree softly and return your gaze to your brothers.

“Why?” She asks and leans closer to you. “Any particular reason?”

You debate telling her what you have been discovering lately, but…you can’t tell her what you aren’t sure of yet. What if you’re just crazy? Or perhaps have a higher tolerance than anyone that has come before you. You need to learn more before you can tell her or anyone else.

“Just curious,” you simply avoid the truth.

Your mother huffs softly and reaches down to grab the last golden cuff from your palm. “You may want to ask Daemon about questions like those, he knows a lot more than I do. He spends a lot of time reading about our history.”

She’s attempting to try and have her husband and you bond again. She started the moment you climbed on the ship to come here.

You hum even if you know you won’t attempt shit, you just need her to be assured.

“Princess Y/N,” the maester interjects, pulling the attention of all four of you seated on the sand. “A raven came to you from King’s Landing.”

You immediately smile knowing who it’s from and quickly push yourself to your feet to gently take it from his hand. “Thank you, Maester.” You turn away from him and sit back down to read what Aemond wrote.

“Y/N, love, I write to you urgently to command you to return home at once.

Aemond.”

“Oh,” Baela says teasingly. “A raven from your beloved. What does he say?”

You blink repeatedly in confusion, finding his urgency concerning. Yet you don’t feel rushed to return home to him. You just arrived at Dragonstone. Besides, what if he’s just being difficult because of his indifferences with your family? Pft. He can wait.

“He just misses me,” you say with a smile and roll the scroll back to tuck in the bracelet cuff around your bicep. “He can stay missing me for a week.”

Baela snickers.

“I'm glad you can bring out something in him,” your mother interjects. “Gods know how much Alicent poisons them.”

You mindlessly begin to fiddle with your ring around your finger. “You really think so?” You ask.

“Yes, I saw it, the way he looked at you. The eyes never lie.”

The corner of your lips tug to a soft flattered smile.

“You!” Jacaerys exclaims.

You lift your gaze and see he’s now suddenly pointing at you.

“Come spar against me,” he continues and lowers his arm. “You keep saying you’re good, but I have yet to see it. Your words mean nothing unless you show us.”

You share an amused look with Baela before you shrug nonchalantly. “I’m not so sure now. I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego in front of your betrothed. Just…believe me and leave it at that, dear brother.” You cross your leg over there and lean back on your hands.

“Then you’re not good,” he counters smugly. “Challenge me now, show me you are this great swordsman and I will shut up about it. Or don’t and I will annoy you forever.”

You scoff and quip, “you already do annoy me. But,” you sigh and sit up. “Fine, only so you’ll shut up about it.” As you pass by Lucerys you motion him to give you his sparring sword.

“You won’t change?” Jacaerys points to your gown.

You shake your head. “Don’t need to. I can beat you with it on.” You shoot him a smirk and stride to stand across from him on the sand. “I won’t go easy just so you know. I will play by your training rules though just so you won’t get hurt.”

“As if,” he grumbles while he fixes his grip around his blade.

You roll your shoulders back and shift your feet the way Aemond stands, you then narrow your gaze on your brother and wait for his first move.

Thankfully, he grows impatient right away so he comes charging at you first. When he gets close he swings at your neck, but you duck and then spin around him quickly.

Jacaerys catches your move and tries to move to face you, but you then claw your hand on his shoulder and use your other hand to grip his arm to shove him down.

Rather than staying down, Jacaerys quickly pushes himself up and thrusts his sword at your side, but you quickly block him and then use your leg to kick him back. You then shoot him a smug grin and wait again.

When he comes at you now, he swings down but you avert his blade by turning to the side. That makes him mad albeit so he uses his anger to keep swinging, but you just keep swerving his swings.

“Fight back,” he growls.

You click your tongue. “Fight better,” you counter and do as he says this time, you charge at him and swing swing up. Jacaerys brings his sword to block you, but you trick him and end up spinning around him, managing to hit his arm harsly with your blade before you face his back.

Your brother hisses and grabs his arm. This time you don’t let him move, you kick him down to the sand, and proceed to stride over to him to flip him around and point your sword at his throat.

“What do I win?” You ask cockily.

Jacaerys huffs out in annoyance and throws his sword aside, letting you do the same and offer him your hand.

“Come on, get up,” you say.

Your brother sighs deeply, he seems to hesitate, but he ends up taking your hand and lets you help him back to his feet.

“You did good,” you compliment in a less teasing manner. “A lot better than six years ago that’s for sure.”

Jacaerys snatches his hand away from yours and glances behind you, you follow his line of gaze and catch Daemon is now watching, but you ignore him and notice your mothers smile as she holds Aerion now.

“You…did good too,” Jacaerys redirects quietly.

You giggle and shove past him to pick up the sword from the ground.

“You did good, Princess,” Daemon interjects, causing your smile to fade. “But you can do better.”

His footsteps hit the sandy surface, they approach you. When he stops near you his shadow cast over you, and your anger breaks out of that little box you wanted to contain it in for the purpose of this trip to go well.

“I don’t need your help,” you snap at him and don’t fret to meet his gaze with a burning glare.

You would have snapped at him, call him a murderer, but you don’t have evidence and you still don’t want to ruin this trip, so you just clench your jaw and stab the sword in the sand before you shove past him and stomp over to your son.

“Y/N,” your mother tries to talk to you, but you just gently take Aerion from her since your anger is not at her.

“Come on baby, let’s get you inside,” you whisper to your baby boy and then storm away.

“Y/N,” your mother calls out for you desperately, but you ignore her. And instead of going inside like you said, you take a detour to the hill by the castle when you catch Astraea resting.

“<Hello, girl,>” you greet the dragon as you press your forehead against her jaw.

Astraea growls softly and leans against you, making you smile softly.

“Do you want to feel her?” You ask Aerion, and then grab his little hand to press it against Astrea’s purple scales.

Aerion grins brightly and kicks his feet, he tries to laugh, but he can’t do so just yet so he just gapes like a fish.

“<Goodgirl.>” You assure your dragon in High Valyrian.

Footsteps then approach and you instantly feel your joy begin to fade. Albeit when you check who’s approaching you’re relieved to see it’s just your brothers.

“I won’t apologize,” you mutter, knowing that your mother probably sent them to address your snap. “I just need time.” You say as you turn to drag yourself down to the ground beside your dragon's head.

“We aren’t here you tell you to apologize,” Jacaerys interjects as both him and Lucerys slow down to a stop before you and Aerion. “Nor do I think Daemon cares if you do.”

You turn Aerion around so he can face you, and begin making faces at him so he can smile.

“We've come to tell you that we understand,” Lucerys adds, “your anger and distance.”

You keep a lighthearted expression for Aerion’s sake, but your voice tells your anger and sadness. “How can you do it? Look at him in the eye everyday after what he did?” You can’t help but ask.

They’re old now, they grasp things better, they understand a lot more than before, they must suspect what you do.

“What did he do?” Lucerys asks innocently.

Yet you don’t hold back for his sake. “Kill father to marry mother.”

“Your father,” Jacaerys deadpans. “Laenor was only your father.”

You snap your head to the side and look at him with a narrowed gaze. “Does that matter? He still raised you, he was still there and Daemon took him away. So how can you do it? Because I can’t…look him in the eye without thinking of father, without wanting to kill him.”

Jacaerys and Lucerys share a brief look before they sit with you. They remain silent for a while, most likely trying to find what to say to try and ease the pain you express to them for the first time.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought about that,” Jacaerys says softly. “I don’t trust Daemon, but there’s nothing we can do about theories y/n. We have no evidence, and he…makes mother happy.”

You sigh deeply, and look down at Aerion watching you. “I know,” you whisper and look up at the sky to avoid crying. “I just have to suck it up. But…you don’t think I’m mad for holding that against him right?” You look at both of your brothers and wait.

Lucerys meets your gaze and slowly shakes his head. “No, we—I understand why you’re angry, and it’s okay. You can be mad at him all you want.”

You hold his gaze before you share a soft admiring grin. “You've really grown up huh?”

Lucerys scoffs softly. “It’s been six years.”

You nod slowly in comprehension and glance down at Aerion with a soft smile before you glance at your brothers. “Thank you for coming up to talk to me.”

Lucerys offers you a soft smile, and Jacaerys averts his gaze and interjects. “We stand with you, sister. We need you to know that.” He slowly lowers his gaze and locks his eyes on you. “On this matter, and all the others you may face.”

Lucerys nods in agreement, making your eyes fill with happy tears. “Thank you,” you mewl.

“Don’t cry,” Jacaerys mumbles uncomfortably.

You laugh and shake your head. “I won’t.” You wipe away a stray tear and hide your face by looking down at Aerion putting a strand of your hair in his mouth. “Just let me enjoy this moment.”

At least now you know you don’t stand alone in the anger against Daemon.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

The difference between Jacaerys and Lucerys fighting style is that Lucerys is a bit too gentle, too slow, and Jacaerys is too angry and doesn’t try to be tactical. Jacaerys puts up a fight unlike Lucerys, who leaves himself too open.

It’s why you find a way to shove his dominant hand before you raise your leg and kick him back on the sand.

“Lucerys,” you breathe out slowly.

Said boy groans and manages to hastily push himself up. “I know,” he grumbles in disappointment.

You walk over to him and grab his arm to help him to his feet. “You left yourself too open,” you point out his mistakes you caught. “Don’t think too much about it either, or else your enemy will get you a lot faster.”

Lucerys nods in comprehension.

You offer him a small smile and pat his shoulder. “You did better this time though.” You assure him and walk past him.

“You are speaking to him too gently,” Jacaerys scolds you as he takes your spot across Lucerys. “He won’t get any better that way.”

You shrug and spin around as you walk past him. “He won’t learn anything if you’re mean either,” you counter and plop yourself on the sand to watch Jacaerys spar against Lucerys now.

Once again Jacaerys is too aggressive, and Lucerys is too slow to catch up to his brother. It’s almost too hard to watch, you hate seeing Lucerys get hurt, but you watch for his sake so you can teach him his mistakes in ways Jacaerys is too impatient to do.

“What. Was. That?” Jacaerys spats as he shoves Lucerys to the ground.

“I'm sorry,” Lucerys grunts.

“You might go easier on him, my Prince,” an older Kingsguard knight interjects as he walks to your brothers. “So he can learn what you’re trying to teach.”

You hum in agreement.

“Your lady mother needs to see you!” The sound of your grandmother's voice carries out through the wind, stealing everyone’s attention. “The three of you!”

You had seen Meleys arrive not so long ago, but her armor isn’t something you expected her to be wearing. Should it be concerning?

“Is everything all right?” You ask your grandmother once you reach her under the cave.

Your grandmother Rhaenys, lets out a deep sigh and points to where the castle is. “Go she needs you.”

This does not help anything whatsoever.

“All—”

“Have you received any news from your husband?” She cuts you off.

You blink in confusion and answer quietly. “No. Just a raven to demand me back home…why?”

She simply holds your gaze and answers nonchalantly. “I’m sure your mother will explain. Now go, all three of you.”

You share a concerned look with your brothers before you do as she says and return to the castle. Once there you look out for anything suspicious, but Dragonstone is usually quiet, there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

That is not until you begin to approach your mothers chambers, because as soon as you get close you hear grunts and cries of pain echoing out. When you make it inside her room you instantly freeze as you notice she’s in a birthing gown, bathed in sweat, and grabbing onto her waist to ease what she can.

“Mother?” Jacaerys calls out because you can’t.

“Fuck,” your mother groans.

The babe isn’t meant to come out yet.

“Princess,” Maester Gerardys calls out to your mother distracted by her pain.

When she slowly turns to face your brothers, you climb down the stone stairs and approach Jacaerys side to fall under her gaze as well.

“Your grandsire, King Viserys, has passed,” she announces, making you gasp.

“V-Viserys?” Lucerys repeats in disbelief, whilst you try to progress the tragic news.

Is that why—Aemond knew didn't he? That’s why he wanted you home only a day after you left. He knew and he didn’t say.

“The Greens have repudiated the succession,” your mother adds what was beginning to come across your mind. “And claimed the Iron Throne.”

The maester leaves hastily, and more grief piles on you, making it hard to breathe properly.

“Aegon has been crowned King.”

That drunk, rapist with no sense of any kind of responsibility?

“What is to be done about it?” Jacaerys asks what ran through your mind.

“Nothing yet,” your mother says.

“Where is Daemon?”

“I don’t know,” your mothers voice quivers. “Gone to madness.” She shakes her head. “Gone to plot his war.”

“Leave daemon with me,” Jacaerys cuts in and turns on his heels to storm off, taking Lucerys with him. But you stay there frozen to your spot, trying to wrap your mind around your grandfather's death and Aemond’s betrayel.

“Jace,” your mother calls out. But he doesn’t stop—“Jacaerys!”

You blink and slowly look at the entrance and watch him stop and turn to face your mother.

“Whatever claim remains to me,” she says through her pain. “You are now its heir. Naught is to be done but by my command.”

Jacaerys nods stiffly and lingers there for a few more seconds before he walks to do as he had thrown out moments go, and you….you look back at your mother and feel your heart sink.

Whatever grief and anger you feel over the news, you shove that aside for now and rush to her side. “I’m here,” you assure her as she begins grunting and crouching down. “I’m here.” You grab her arm and hook it around your neck. “We should try sitting down, or laying,” you suggest.

Your mother shakes her head and clutches onto your shoulder as another wave of pain hits her.

What could you do to ease her pain? What can you do to make her feel more comfortable at this very moment?

She cries and groans, she paces mindlessly trying to relieve herself of the pain, but the babe refuses to come out. You’ve been through the pain of birth now, you know how much it hurts to have someone come out of your own body. You’ve seen it once after Cregan’s late lady wife suffered through it for hours, but at this very moment, as your mother suffers through an early labor is still something you can’t comprehend, something you can’t find words for.

No matter how much you plead to let her ladies-in-waiting help her, she refuses, she refuses water, or letting you lay her down. All you can do is walk with her, hold her as she pushes, hear her as the pain seems to become worse. She even calls out for Daemon, probably so he can comfort her, or so she can give him orders, but he never comes.

Not like that surprises you. Not because of how you think he might be, but because he is a man. Men aren’t usually a part of labor, Cregan wasn’t there for his wife, Aemond only came to you after you asked for him; you were so afraid you were going to die and your mother didn’t catch you in labor like she wanted to, so all you wanted then was Aemond.

You can’t lie and say Cregan didn’t come to mind, he always had a way to comfort you with so much ease. He didn’t struggle like Aemond did, but you never let his name slip when you were on your birthing bed. And when Aemond was there you were grateful that he was and that he found it in himself to try as best as he could.

So maybe that’s all you can do now too, try your best for your mother.

You rub her back, and move her hair behind her shoulder so it isn’t bothering her. You let her squeeze your hand as hard she wants, and never let her go. There comes a point through her painful pushing that she finally lets you drag her down to the ground, but you can hear her cries are full of much more heightened pain, and the blood that stained the bottom half of her body became much more.

“Princess let us help you,” her handmaiden, Elinda asks. But your mother doesn’t even pay them any attention.

“Get out!” She bellows as she lifts up her gown. “Get out!”

“Princess please.”

You slide your mothers arm off your body and crawl forward to help her, but she pushes away from you.

“Mother,” you beg between tears you try your hardest to fight away.

“Let us help you,” Elinda continues to press.

Your mother reaches out for your hand, and you quickly return to her side and let her clutch onto you as she screams out louder while she pushes out harder.

Now, however, with this push blood pours out from her, surrounding your feet and staining the sheer white gown you put over your black training jumpsuit. You want to help her pull the babe out, but she refuses your help and pulls out the baby herself with a long and painful cry.

The moment the baby girl comes out, that pain that riddled her body seems to ease, but the grief that hits her upon seeing the babe is probably worse than her pain.

The babe is so small, her bones are clearly prominent against her skin. There’s bumps you can’t identify poking out of her head, her skin is…scaly, unlike anything you’ve seen on a human child. It looked like a dragons skin. Yet throughout all that observation, you still search for a sign of life, you wait to see your baby sister's chest move…but her eyes never open, and a cry never fills the room.

It’s so deafeningly quiet now, your mother doesn’t cry anymore and the handmaidens don’t plead to help. And the baby, little Visenya is so still, so incredibly still.

There’s nothing you can do now but be there and cradle your mother as she cradles Visenya’s body.

You don’t say anything, quiet tears stream out of your eyes; tears brought by your own grandfather's death, by the betrayal jabbing your heart, and by your sister's death before she could even take her own breath. You press a gentle kiss on the side of your mothers head and let her press her head against yours as she sits there.

Who knows how much time passed before you moved, but even then your mind is moving too fast to grasp anything at all. It feels like you’re outside of your body just watching it move throughout the castle halls.

And funny enough, the only person you want to comfort you is Aemond; the man who helped his brother usurp your mothers throne. You want him with you, hugging you and telling you that it will all be fine, you want him with you. Flying home even crosses your mind, you want to run into his arms and let him hold you, you want to breathe in his charming scent. Tell him that you’re not really mad at him for what Aegon did, you know the influence his mother holds, that poisoned him at a young age.

You don’t blame him for Aegon’s coronation, you’re just upset that he didn’t say anything. You wouldn't side with the Greens, not only because Aegon makes a terrible ruler, but because your mother is the true heir, your grandfather deemed it that way, he never declared otherwise, his word is law and they broke it.

So much for following the rules.

Alas, Aemond can’t be here, and you can’t leave. Your mother needs you, and…if it’s a war that will break out then you will fight for the right side.

So after a short bath and a change of clothes, you and your three brothers walk out and join your mother and Daemon for the funeral on a stoney hill. Other people stand behind your mother and Daemon too; the other residents who live here, a couple of workers, your cousins of course, and your grandmother stands behind the crowd watching the pyre burn.

The moment is quiet, deafening so. You can even hear the flames from where you stand. The only noise that breaks through the grieving silence is the sound of swords unsheathing as a knight of the Kingsguard, not a part of the three that were already here walks up the hill.

“I mean no harm, brothers,” the man announces before he takes his helmet off.

Since you stand to the side it’s hard to identify who he is, but before curiosity can kill you, you step forward.

That’s when you see that it’s one of the twins, Ser Eryyk. He kneels before your mother and takes out…your grandfather's golden crown from his satchel.

“I swore to ward the Queen,” he doesn’t wait to interject loudly and with confidence. “With all my strength, and give my blood for hers….”

You gasp softly in disbelief, but you can’t help your small proud smile from forming on your face.

It’s good that someone wasn’t afraid to break away from the man who calls himself King, that someone is loyal to your mother; the true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

“I shall take no wife,” Ser Eryyk continues to say his oath. “Hold no lands…father no children. I shall guard her secrets…obey her commands, ride at her side and defend her name and honor.”

You look to your mother and watch Daemon approach her with the crown. You watch with pride and glee as he sits the golden crown over her head before he kneels before her.

She seems a bit in shock that she’s getting crowned, but when it seems to pass you catch her eyes lift to the crowd as they kneel before her and declare their loyalty. Her eyes then slide to where you and your brothers are, and they proceed to bend the knee too. When her eyes then lock with yours, you shoot her a small proud smile before you lift your skirt and bend the knee before your Queen; you make your choice between sides clear now at this very moment to her and everyone else.

She is your Queen from now and until the end.

——

*LATER*

As mad as you want to be with Aemond, you can’t hold anything against him. He is not King, he probably helped his brother climb those steps, he is loyal to his family as you are to yours, but he holds little respect for Aegon. So if the war were to end now at this very moment you'd go back to as you were, you wouldn't care if he picked his side against you…

Yet….what you’d give to leave it all now at this very moment, escape all this chaos, this grief and only come back when it’s all finished.

Escaping your problems isn’t ideal, it’s better to face them head on, but wouldn’t it be marvelous to leave with that ship you're watching sailing away.

“I wonder where it’s going,” you murmur to Aerion cradled in your arms. “I saw them take in hundreds of boxes.”

Aerion takes a long blink before he rubs his eyes and yawns.

You smile softly and carsss his little cheek, “fine, fine,” you whisper. “I’ll let you sleep. Sorry.”

Aerion snuggles against you, letting you gently rock him and sing him a quiet lullaby in High Valyrian. As usual he falls asleep quickly with the sound of the lullaby’s gentle tune—Your mother used to sing it to your brothers, and to you too, but you don’t recall.

Now that Aerion is asleep though you’re left alone watching the ship become smaller and smaller as it keeps sailing into the never ending sky.

“Naath,” a husky voice startles you and forces you to stop singing. “The ship is going to Naath.”

Seven hells!

You slowly look back and just see the same lurker, the Queensguard Knight your mother assigned as your sworn protector in case team green dared to come and take you and Aerion.

“You asked—well, uh, you wondered out loud, and I didn’t want to leave you wondering…” he trails off and clears his throat. “Sorry…forgive me, Princess.” He lowers his blue eyes to the sand and steps back.

You don’t know whether to find his interruption annoying, or his stammering amusing; in all your life around Kingsguard, you’ve never met a knight get tongue tied like he did, or grow a tint of red like he does. It’s honestly a bit…cute—well he’s the exception.

Who would’ve guessed such a buff man can blush.

“What are they exporting?” You ask and decide not to let his interruption bother you. Not when you have more questions. “Do you know?”

Ser Jason Waters, the appointed Knight, slowly lifts his gaze and blinks in surprise, but he exhales slowly and then looks at the horizon. “I don’t know what they export from Dragonstone, but I do know that those fine sailors bring back silk. Like the one you wear—Not that I know you wear silk, I just assume because you’re a, you know, a princess...”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief, but you can’t help your amused smile from tugging on your lips. “I’ve heard of Naath,” you interject and look back at the ship, but it’s not over the water anymore, it’s gone from your eyesight.

It feels like your chance to leave left with it too.

“It’s the most terrifyingly beautiful place to exist.” You grin softly.

“Oh, yes,” he says and snaps your gaze back to him with flickering curiosity. “The waters are the deepest blue, shimmering when the sun hits it, which is all day. Every corner of the island is a lucious green. And the people…they’re just as beautiful.”

You twist around and face him. “You’ve been?” You ask and feel your curiosity grow, like a burning flame getting sparked to life.

Ser Jason shakes his head. “Passed by it, but we didn’t step off. We,” he chuckles softly. “We were too afraid to catch the butterfly fever.”

You hum softly and hold his twinkling blue eyes, noticing now for the first time that he wears a large thin scar right across his face; from the corner of his forehead and all the way across to the corner of his jawline, it adds to his exterior intimidation.

Now that he’s spoken to you he isn’t as intimidating though, a bit awkward, but not so intimidating.

“Why?” You ask softly. “I mean why did you travel so far and end up back here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Ser Jason exhales deeply. “I left because I felt trapped,” he reveals, stealing every single ounce of your attention and the breath in your very lungs.

“By my poverty, by my work I hated, by the people that I hated even more. Everyday felt the same since I was a boy, so…after my mother passed I left. She wanted to know the world you see...” he pauses and his eyes begin to gleam with tears.

“So in her honor, to escape my prison, I left with the man who had watched out for me my whole life,” he continues and sniffles, but doesn’t let those tears shed. “We saw what we could of the world…and I ended back at Westeros because…” he scoffs and looks at the ground. “I heard my father was here too, he was on a long trip before, so I was curious to know who the man was.”

You hum softly and grow even more curious, but you don’t press that far, instead you ask a simple question. “Disappointed or…” you trail off and let him answer, but he looks at you and waits for you to finish. He doesn’t understand.

“Were you disappointed by who your father turned out to be, or surprised?” You explain with a small teasing smile.

“Oh,” he mouths and then responds to the wind. “I wasn’t disappointed, I couldn’t be because my mother worked in the Street of Silk. But I was sort of taken back…he’s a man with a lot of power, you see,” he shares and glances at the castle in the distance before he leans towards you as if he didn’t want someone else to hear. “A terrifying man with a terrifying name. I knew who he was before because my mother told me, but he didn’t scare me until I saw him face to face.”

You hum in comprehension, and even if you’re curious as to know who this terrifying man is, you don’t think it’s your place to ask such a personal question. You leave your mind to imagine who this powerful Lord might be.

Maybe one of the Lannister twins? Lord Jason Lannister? The knight's name is Jason too.

No, this man’s hair isn’t so blond, it’s lighter, it seems almost white under the light. Hm.

There’s too many possibilities to guess right.

“Tell me Ser what else have you seen?” You ask and change the subject back to his travels so you wouldn't dare ask who the mystery lord was. Because you would and he’d have no choice but to answer.

Ser Jason smiles rather than looking annoyed by your question. “Vaes Dothrak, well, I was forced to go there after a group of them raided a town we were staying at. That’s how I got this,” he points to his scar. “A Dothraki Screamer struck me across the face with his blade, caused me to black out and took me to Vaes Dothrak. It’s beautiful, the people are a bit frightening,” he admits, “but their culture is unique and interesting.”

You look at him with a wide-eyed wonder and hang onto every word. Once again after a long time of being at peace, as you hear his stories of his grand adventures, you feel like the girl wanting more out of life. Your dreams seem to flicker back to life as the burning curiosity grows.

“I’ve been to the Summer Isles and that’s where I got this…” he trails off and pulls out something from a pocket that you can’t see because he hides it in his fist.

“The rarest pearl in this world,” he adds, and breaks away from his spot to approach you and show off an orange-peach colored pearl you have never seen in your life until now.

“You know why?” He asks as he lifts his gaze off the pearl, and watches you admiring the pearl in his hand.

“No,” you whisper in awe to the precious stone. “Why?” You ask enthusiastically.

Ser Jason turns the pearl in his fingers and responds in his husky voice. “A Melo pearl, or also known as the Dragon pearl is rare because unlike the other pearls grown in mussels or snails, the snail that made this took decades to grow it to this size. Here.” He points to the pearl.

You carefully slide one hand away from Aerion and gently take the pearl from Ser Jason’s hold. “How did you find it?” You ask as you feel the soft stone in your fingers, and watch as the pearl gleams as if it has burning flames trapped under its glazed surface.

“Killed a man for it.”

You find nothing wrong with his answer, but he quickly laughs and shakes his head.

“No, no, I didn't kill anyone, I,” he laughs nervously, “I found it on the beach.”

You lift your gaze and meet his with a soft smile. “It’s beautiful.” You push the pearl back to him, but he pushes your hand back to you.

“Keep it, Princess,” he says.

Your smile slowly fades and you quickly shake your head. “I cannot. It’s your treasure,” you argue and shove it back to him.

Albeit Ser Jason is stubborn and pushes your hand back to you. “Keep it, please. Consider a gift for uh, well—you’re the first person to ask about my travels who actually seems interested. Besides, you'll have more use for it than me.”

You hesitate to do as he says; but you’ll be here all day if you don’t, or you’ll get mad because of his refusal, either or.

“Well the world is truly a mystery to me,” you interject as you secure the pearl in your hand. “You’d think a princess with a dragon would be able to see the marvels this world holds, but…” you scoff and glance at Aerion sleeping away. “I’m more of a prisoner…”

There it is again, that feeling that plagued you once before. The gold bars that once surrounded you are closing down on you again.

“That’s why I am glad I’m a man and a bastard.” He says a bit smugly, but he seems to catch what came out of his mouth and quickly looks terrified by what he said. “Not to discredit what you—”

You laugh softly, catching him off guard. “No, I understand completely. When I was young I wished to be a boy so I could train with my brothers and get what they did, but now I’m grateful to be a woman.” You smile at him.

Ser Jason tilts his head and his fearful gaze turns soft and curious. “Why so?” He probes curisoly, getting you excited that he expresses such excitement.

“Well—”

“Y/N!” The sound of your name called out cuts you off and forces you to look away from the knight who has gotten too close to you.

And just your damn luck, it’s Jacaerys. He’s always been way too overprotective. Like if he’s not your younger brother.

“The meeting is going to take place soon!” He shouts out so as to not walk all the way to you.

You sigh and nod, his gaze drifts to the knight and you see his gaze narrow. Ser Jason knew his stand so as soon he heard your brother, he had stepped back, but it was far too late Jacaerys had caught his approximaty.

“Come on now!”

You roll your eyes and try to push yourself up, but you struggle considering you’re carrying your son in your arms. “Could you help me?” You ask the knight.

Ser Jason glances over at your brother first before he retakes those steps back to you and wraps his hands around your arms.

“You’ll have to tell me more about your travels soon,” you mutter to him while he pulls you to your feet without any sort of strain.

Rather than pulling away right away, Ser Jason meets your gaze as you both stand close to one another. “Whatever you say, Princess—”

“No,” you cut him off with a soft smirk. “As a…friend. Like we were now.”

Ser Jason lets out a deep breath and his lips tug to a small smile. “All right,” he assures you.

You flash him a grin and hold his gaze for a second longer, realizing now how handsome this man is, he has this sort of…alluring beauty to him that captivates you now as he stands so close with his hands still around your arms.

“Good,” you whisper and pull away to catch up to Jacaerys.

“What were you doing?” He spats at you right away without bothering to look back at the man that tows behind you like a shadow.

You shrug. “Brooding and talking to Ser Jason. Can I not do that?”

Jacaerys shakes his head. “No,” he deadpans. “You cannot.”

You roll your eyes and peer back at Ser Jason to shoot him an assuring look, and mouth. “Don’t worry about it.” You then wink.

“I'm surprised your husband isn’t knocking down the castle walls demanding your return,” Jacaerys inputs, turning your attention back to him.

“He’s smarter than that,” you actually praise him. “If he’s forced to, he'll wait for the right moment and take me by force, other than that he’ll keep pleading for my return, send demands, but he won’t come himself.”

“Well he can definitely try,” Jacaerys grumbles.

As much as you have love for your brother, he’d never beat Aemond in any way, but it’s the thought that counts.

Alas, when you make it inside you return Aerion to his chambers and have Ser Jason guard him just in case while you attend a meeting.

And much to your surprise you could attend it without being a cupbearer. Aegon’s court would never allow that.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Daemon announces while your mother enters the hall with four guards firmly around her. “First of Her Name. Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

You bow your head after he finishes, like everyone else in the room.

“Your Grace.” Daemon addresses her.

You lift your head and watch her approach the table shaped like Westeros map, but then quickly stop as Rhaena approaches her with a goblet.

“Wine, my Queen.”

You see your mother hesitate before she takes the goblet from Rhaena. “Thank you, Rhaena. Come,” she points to the table.

When she passes by Baela, she motions her over as well, letting her fall right by your side as you stand by your mothers when she reaches the table.

However when she does reach the table she stands in silence, you look over at her out of curiosity, thinking that maybe she’s taking in the markers on the map, but her gaze is taking in everyone around the table first before she finally breaks the silence.

“What is our standing?” She asks.

“We have a hundred crossbowmen, and 300 men-at-arms,” Daemon shares confidently. “Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest. Our army leaves a lot to be desired. I sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I’ll have some support there, but I cannot speak for numbers.”

He speaks with so much ease, it honestly makes you feel some sort of confidence even if your numbers aren’t impressive.

He’d never hear that from you though. Pft.

“We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton,” the Maester cuts in. “Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon.”

Not much.

“My lady mother was an Arryn,” your mother interjects as you watch Jacaerys place markers on your curtain allies. “The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin.”

“Riverrun was always a close friend to your fathers, Your Grace,” the Maester points out. “With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I already sent ravens to Lord Grover.”

Oh by Daemon’s acquiescence? Who gave him permission to do such matters? Your mother when she was in labor?

“Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed,” your mother argues, “he’ll need to be convinced of the strength of our position, and that we will support him should it come to war.”

You lift your gaze off the table and drag your eyes to Daemon, knowing her comment was directed at him.

“I’m going to treat with him myself,” Daemon says and keeps his gaze on your mother. When you glance back at her she holds his gaze as if challenging him, arguing over what he did while she was abed.

“What of Storm’s End and Winterfell?” Lord Darklyn asks, snapping your attention to him at the mere reminder of Cregan.

He’d never betray his oath, he’s a Stark, and he’s simply Cregan, he’s loyal, you can swear by that. And well he would also never go against you. Regardless of how things are between him and you currently.

“There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath,” Lord Bartimos defends Lord Stark. “And with House Stark, the North follows.”

You smirk faintly at the table and mindlessly begin to fiddle with the orange pearl you still have in your hand.

“Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his fathers promises,” your mother inputs, causing a knight to put a marker over Winterfell, while Jacaerys puts one down too.

“What news from Driftmark?” Your mother asks your grandmother, turning everyone’s attention to her.

“Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone.”

“To declare for his Queen,” Daemon assumes, boldly at that.

“The Velaryon fleet is my husbands yoke,” your grandmother counters. “He decides where they sail.”

You scoff smugly and pass a glare to Daemon before looking at the table.

“We shall pray for both you and your husband's support,” your mother says. “Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake’s return to good health. There is no port on the Narrow Sea that would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet.” She turns and drifts the subject away to a different point. “And our enemies?”

“We have no friends among the Lannisters,” Daemon says. “Tyland has served the Hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet.”

“Without the Lannisters, we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth.”

“No,” Daemon quickly agrees before ducking his head and continuing. “The Riverlands are essential, Your Grace.”

“Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace,” a Lord cuts in, “but talk of men is moot. Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons.”

You pick up your gaze and stop rolling the pearl in between your fingers. “The Greens have dragons as well,” you remind the Lord. “Old dragons.”

“They have three adults,” Daemon keeps cutting in. “By my count. We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys. Your daughter has Astraea, and your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes.”

Tyraxes? He’s a baby and too small, as well as Joffrey. He can’t possibly want little Joffrey fighting against three old and experienced dragons.

“Baela has Moondancer.”

“Daemon,” your mother argues. “None of our dragons have been to war.”

Without addressing that comment Daemon keeps going about more dragons. “There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmount, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.”

“And who is to ride them?” Your mother asks what you’re thinking.

“Dragonstone has 14 to their 4. I also have a score of eggs incubating in the Dragonmount.”

And what good will that do? Does he want his toddler sons, and your infant son to control hatchlings? Tsk, please.

“Now,” Daemon continues as he grabs a marker. “We need a place to gather. A toehold large enough to house a sizable host.” He places the marker down and without as much as counseling the Queen he shares his plan. “Here, at Harrenhal. We cut off the west, surround King’s Landing with the dragons and we can have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.”

You swallow thickly and once again begin to nervously fiddle with the pearl Ser Jason gave you.

“Your Grace,” Ser Eryyk interjects as he strides over. “A ship has been sighted offshore, a lone galleon, flying a banner of three headed green dragon.”

The Greens.

“Alert the watchtowers,” once again Daemon gives commands as if he’s King or hand of the Queen. He’s nothing but the simple Prince Consort—“sight the skies.” He takes his sword and storms out, leaving your mother behind.

“Mother,” you say and turn to face her.

“Stay here,” she commands right away while she turns to face you. “Where’s Ser Jason?”

“Guarding Aerion,” you answer hoping your nerves wouldn’t show.

She nods stiffly. “All right…go to your chambers and take Aerion. I doubt there will be any sort of force, but we need to be assured.”

You sigh deeply and don’t fight her commands, she leaves and you do as she asks. You wait for her and watch the skies for Vhagar, but as expected he doesn’t show, your mother returns and does share the list of commands given by Lord Otto. And amongst those demands are the release of Aerion and you, as if you were captive here with your mother.

It was ultimately up to you, she gave you that choice to return to King’s Landing, but you didn’t need to debate your choice, staying with her was the right choice. Even if it means going against Aemond.

He won’t come with Vhagar and demand your return though, of that you’re sure; they’d never let him even if he wanted to, so that’s not what worries you now. It’s your mother debating some kind of terms for peace. Sure no one wants her to see dragons go to war and destroy what comes in their path, but they stole her throne, they didn’t say the King passed, she needs to retaliate in some way to display her power.

You agree with Daemon on that much.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“You’re meant to be a sailor are you not?” You tease Ser Jason. “Well Polaris is…” you trail off and turn on your heels to point at the North Star, follow it and Winterfell eventually crosses your path. “There. The shiniest star.”

Ser Jason follows what you point to and mumbles. “I knew that.”

You scoff lightheartedly and shrug smugly. “It’s easy to mistake it for the Brave Man’s torching star.”

Ser Jason picks up his head, and you feel his gaze fall on you as you come to a stop in front of the shore. “Who taught you?” He asks.

“My father,” you share with a smile as you watch the sky. “I couldn’t be a sailor like him, but my dragon isn’t all knowing, so he taught us how to read the stars himself.” You blink and meet his gaze. “What’s your favorite place you’ve sailed to?”

Ser Jason exhales deeply and loses his gaze on the calm waters. “Home. No matter where I went, no place felt like home until I returned to Westeros.”

You hum softly and can’t help your intrigued smile. “You spent so much time wanting to leave that…”

“I didn’t know what I had until I left,” he finishes for you. “Yes.”

You drop your gaze to the ground and feel your smile falter. “I felt that way for a while, when I was sent to Winterfell, but then I met someone there who helped me. When I returned to King’s Landing, the feeling was always in the back of my head. Now,” you feign a laugh. “I’m afraid I’m right back where I started….wishing for more out of everything I already have.”

“Then leave,” Ser Jason says bluntly, catching your breath by surprise. No one has ever actually said that to you before, it’s always get over it or be content with what you already have.

“You are not an heir, you’re a simple princess with no burdens,” he adds. “As I see it you can leave, you're just afraid. Fear is our worst enemy.”

You part your lips but nothing comes out but a small breath. You just stare at him in disbelief, he saw right through you, more than anyone ever has.

“I mean I'm only talking by experience,” he corrects himself in your silence. “Not that we share the same experience, you’re royalty, I was a commoner, but fear…well I don’t know if you’re scared…” he trails off and clears his throat. “I was only assuming, sorry.”

You avert your gaze and slowly shake your head. “I knew what you meant, Ser,” you mumble. “Maybe I am afraid, but my duties are far more important than my dreams. This upcoming war is too. So all I can do is inhale and shove it all back, and exhale and be content with what I have.” You offer him a feigned smile and continue slowly heading back inside the castle with him now right beside you instead of behind you.

“I respect that too,” he admits.

You look over at him and offer him a genuine soft smile. Ser Jason’s gaze lowers, you watch his eyes fall to your lips before he meets your gaze and mirrors the soft gesture.

You shouldn’t have but you lingered there for a moment until a gentle breeze hit you and snapped you out of your stupor. Yet just as you were heading towards the castle a little prince comes storming out of the cave.

“Y/N, again!” Jacaerys scolds you. “This is the third time mother has sent me to come fetch you.”

You roll your eyes and skip over to hook your arm around his and lead him to the castle. “Relax, brother, I was just walking and catching some air.”

��In the skies,” he spats. “You were flying on Astraea all morning. Mother told you to keep out of the skies. Have you even gone to see Lord Corlys? He’s here you know.”

You nod. “I know, but he was asleep. I was waiting until he woke up to visit him.”

“Well,” Jacaerys scolds. “Now you have to wait until after the meeting. Mother is expecting you.”

You sigh. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“You said you wanted to be a part of this,” Jacaerys continues to use that stern voice on you. “Well be a part of it.”

When you enter that hall though you’re consumed by the chaos you just wanted a small escape from. Everyone is talking over one another, pacing around the table and shouting ideas.

It doesn’t come to a stop until Ser Erryk cuts them all off with a booming announcement. “The Lord of the Tides, Lord Corlys Velaryon…”

You lift your gaze and notice the named man on top of the stairs with a cane and a bandage around his neck. It’s an odd sight seeing such a man wounded, but it’s the reality of war. He’s lucky he even lived.

“…and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.”

You clasp your hands in front of you and begin to roll the orange pearl in your hand once again as you watch him, your grandmother, and your cousins trailing behind them walk down the stairs so formally.

“My lords,” your grandfather greets the men around the table when he’s down the stairs.

“Lord Corlys,” your mother greets the Lord. “It brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again.”

“I’m very sorry about your father, Princess,” he says, “he was a good man.” He then turns and faces the painted table to look around at all the faces gathered around. “Where is Daemon?” He asks.

“There were other concerns which demanded the Prince’s attention,” your mother responds.

Your grandfather simply hums and passes your mother without as much as bowing, or addressing her as her proper title; Queen. He just walks past her as if she’s another one of the men.

“Your declared allies?” He points out to the few golden markers.

Your mother nods and approaches the table once more. “Yes.”

“Too few to win a war for the throne.

Your mother spares him a quick glance before countering. “Well, we would also hope to have the support of houses Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark.”

“Hope…” your grandfather cuts in. “Is the fools ally.”

You stop fiddling with the pearl and lock eyes with your mother before she returns her gaze to Lord Corlys and hardens it. “Both Arryn and Baratheon share blood with my house. But all of them swore oaths to me.”

“As did House Hightower,” your grandfather points out. “If I remember.”

“As did you, Lord Corlys,” your mother redirects with some spite that makes you proud.

Said man stays quiet for a moment, he looks back at you, your brothers standing by you, and your cousins standing by their betrothed for a brief second before focusing back on your mother.

“Your fathers realm…” your grandfather interjects loudly. “Was one of justice and honor. Our houses are bound by common blood and common cause. This Hightower treason cannot stand.” He makes clear as he proceeds to fix his stance. “You have the full support of our fleet and house. Your Grace.”

Finally.

You can’t help but share a small, faint smile at the sound of his words. Knowing the man he is, and how it’s rumored his son died, you didn’t think he’d bend the knee to your mother, but he did. Thank the gods.

“You honor me Lord Corlys,” your mother thanks him with a much softer look. “Princess Rhaenys.” She says behind her. “But,” she once again addresses the crowd. “As I said to my bannermen. “I made a promise to my father to hold the realm strong and united. If war is first, stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand.”

“You do not mean to act?” Your grandfather questions.

“Taking caution,” your mother clarifies. “Does mot mean standing fast. I wish to know who my allies are before I send them to war.”

Your proud smile for your mother widens at the sound of her determination.

“The consequence of my…near demsie in the Stepstones…is that we now control them,” your grandfather announces, “I took care to fully garrison the territory this time. A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be in place in days, if not already. The tiarchy has been routed. The Narrow Sea is ours. If we…further seal the Gullet,” your grandfather points to the areas on the map. “We can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King’s Landing.”

“I shall take Meleys and patrol the Gullet myself.” Your grandmother volunteers herself, seeming to surprise your mother that she did not need to command her, that it was out of her free will.

“When we drain the Narrow Sea,” Lord Bartimos interjects. “We can surround King’s Landing. Lay siege to the Red Keep and force the Greens surrender.”

It’s easier said then done isn’t it? Aemond has the biggest dragon who has seen and been a part of war. Aegon, you must admit, has a good bond with Sunfyre, and Daeron…well you don’t know him well, but his dragon can be as impressive. You’ll have to deal with them first.

“If we are to have enough swords to surround King’s Landing,” your mother inputs. “We must secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm’s End.”

“I’ll prepare the ravens, Your Grace,” the maester assures her, albeit you aren’t convinced by that or sitting at home.

“No,” you interject loudly, “we should bare those messages. In my five years at Winterfell, I grew to befriend Lord Stark, and know Winterfell well, I’m sure I can speak to him and gain his support. Besides, dragons can fly faster than ravens and they’re more convincing. Send us.”

Sure you said that you needed to leave Cregan alone, but this is war, he is a loyal man but if it’s sides he needs to choose, he might sway easier to yours if you speak to him.

“The Princess is right,” your grandfather supports your suggestion, surprisingly enough. “Your Grace.”

Your mother holds your gaze and her eyes soften. She lingers in silence as she watches you before she gives her answer. “Very well. Prince Jacaerys and Princess Y/N will fly North….”

You and your brother share a brief proud look before focusing back. Sure you meant to go to Cregan by yourself, but Jacaerys might help calm your temptations.

“First to the Eyrie to see my mothers cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn,” your mother adds. “And then to Winterfell to treat Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm’s End and treat Lord Borros Baratheon. We must remind these Lords of the oaths they swore. And,” your mother exhales. “The cost of breaking them.”

You smirk proudly and nod in agreement.

——

*LATER*

“We’ll just go on a small trip,” you tell baby Aerion. “Your uncle Jacaerys, you and me.”

Aerion breathes out loudly and his blue eyes seem to search the room with a sad frown. He’s been…upset it seems today, he’s been crying more than usual, and squirming around in your arms. It frightened you at first but it then hit you, he misses Aemond.

This the longest he’s gone without being with him, and Aerion loves his father. He must be so confused as to why he hasn’t seen him, felt his warmth or smelled his scent.

But as much as you want to cure your son's longing, he needs to wait a bit longer.

“We’ll see your father soon,” you assure Aerion. “I swear. After we return from Winterfell.”

Aerion simply blinks, making you smile at him.

“Y/N?” You hear your mother call from the entrance.

You turn around and face her with a smile. “Mother,” you greet. “I’m sorry I just came to pick up Aerion.”

Your mother blinks in confusion. “Pick up? Why ever so?”

You swallow thickly and sigh. “If the Greens find out I left him here all alone, I’m sure someone will come and take him. I can’t risk that.”

Your mother nods and then breaks away from the entrance to reach you and grab your hand. “My sweet, leave Aerion here, we will protect him. You won’t take long but with the way things are it’s too dangerous for him to accompany you.” She cups your cheek and caresses it gently.

“Nothing will happen to that child,” another voice cuts in, pulling both yours and your mothers gaze back to the entrance. That’s when you see Daemon with his face covered in smoke, and his hair all messy. “Rest easy princess, we will watch over the little prince.”

You don’t like him, but you do know of his reputation, he’s fierce and he’s been…loyal to your mother, out of everyone here there’s no else you’d trust more with the protection of Aerion.

Yet you still meet your mothers gaze to press for her reassurance.

“We swear it,” she comforts you softly.

You let out a deep breath and nod slowly before you look down at Aerion with sadness. “I’ll return to you my boy. Soon. I promise.” You lean down and press a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Aerion reaches out to grab your face, so you let him touch your cheeks.

You giggle and then can’t help but snuggle him against you. “Oh, I love you. I’ll see you soon.” Before you decide not to leave or sob you place him back in his cradle and walk out with a heavy heart.

For however long you’ll be gone is the longest you’ll be without Aerion since he was born. When he was first born even being apart from him for just a couple minutes pained you, and now? You’ll be gone for days, you’ll probably die.

Yet the promise of seeing Cregan does excite you even if it shouldn’t. Even after the promise you made yourself. How will he react when he sees you?

It hasn’t been long since you stopped writing to him, he probably hasn’t grown concerned as to why he hasn’t gotten a response from you, but will he know of your attempts?

You did write back with short sentences last time in attempts to stop yourself from talking to him, so will he know? Will he be upset?

Hopefully not.

Alas, before you could attempt leaving Dragonstone to be one mile closer to Cregan, your mother asked to speak to your brothers and you first before your departure.

“It’s been said that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than to men,” your mother says. “The Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But, if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms…we must answer to their gods. If you take this errand, you go as messengers…not as warriors.” She shakes her head. “You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now, under the eyes of the Seven.”

Ser Eryyk brings forth the holy book of the Seven, and Lucerys has no hesitation to respect your mothers wishes. “I swear it,” he assures her.

Jacaerys and you hesitate albeit.

Only you don’t hesitate because of any objections to her demands, it’s just why those gods?

You don’t have faith in the New Gods, but if it’s what she wants.

“I swear,” you assure your mother after Lucerys, leaving Jacaerys.He hesitates for a moment longer, but he then leans in and presses his hand on the book.

“I swear it.”

The book is then pulled away, letting your mother continue with the matter at hand. “Cregan Stark is,” she says, making your breath falter. “Closer to your age than to mine. I would hope, that as men you can find some common interest. And well, as friends,” she shifts her attention to you. “You’d find no trouble.” She finishes and hands Jacaerys the messages.

“Yes, your Grace,” you assure her confidently.

Her attention than slowly drifts to Lucerys and her gaze softens at the obviously worried look on your little brothers face.

“Storm’s End is a short flight from here,” she assures him softly. “You have Baratheon blood from your grandmother Rhaenys. And…Lord Borros is an eternally proud man. He’ll be honored to host a Prince of the Realm and his dragon.” She hands Lucerys the scroll and holds onto his hand a bit longer. “I expect you will receive a very warm welcome.”

Lucerys nods. “Yes mother—y-your Grace.”

You share a teasing smile with Jacaerys at the sound of your brother's stammer. When he returns to your side albeit you caress his shoulder to assure his concerns.

“Go to it then,” your mother orders softly.

You offer her one last smile before you head to where your dragons await for all of you. However, before you can climb on Astraea’s back, you also assure Lucerys.

“You’ll be back before us, so see you after we return, hm?”

Lucerys glances at Jacaerys and then at you and nods softly.

You shoot him a grin and pat his shoulder.

“You be careful too,” he redirects.

You scoff softly and walk back to Astraea. “Always, baby brother,” you counter sweetly.

Now when you turn to face your dragon you can’t help but fill with excitement to see Cregan again. You shouldn’t, but you can’t help it.

A/N- Ser Jason does not have his fathers rizz

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