#aemond x targaryen! reader

[roselibrary]

𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon! Reader

Trigger Warnings: murder, targcest, eventual dark!aemond, yandere!aemond, obsessive behaviour, typical targ madness

Summary: Aemond would have his sea-nymph one way or another.

Requests are open!

Summer blossomed like the pink buds on a cherry tree coming to life the day the young Prince Aemond realised his affection for his niece. She had ensnared his soul and enraptured his heart like the vines of ivy devouring the exterior of a Keep. Silver locks and lilac spun eyes that beheld all the secrets in the world, it seemed. Soft-tanned skin – a perfect blend of her mother and father though the same could not be said for those she called brothers – that beamed soft gold in the light of the sun and lips that looked as if only the sweetest of fruits had kissed them. Her hair shone pearlescent in a similar fashion to the decorations often found woven into her curly smooth locks. They fascinated him; the way the peals glimmered in the light and emerged from her curls like the foam atop a crashing wave.

More Velaryon than Targaryen in truth was she. She, too, had no dragon to call her own but instead proclaimed the sea as her abode and its treasures her horde. He wished to be considered a valuable item amongst those she already kept. Soft-spoken and gentle in nature she was her mother's pride and joy – the image of her grandmother they deemed the sea nymph. Sometimes, he wondered if she could grow a tail much like the mystical mermaid on the sigil of House Manderly and if she could, would she finally join her beloved sea and leave them all to wither on land? Those thoughts never brought him any comfort. Instead, he remained grateful that for as much as she wished to join the sea in all ways; she simply was unable to.

He often prayed to the gods in thanks for her inability to simply vanish on the waves.

It became lonely, living in such cold solitude, after a while and none could deny the younger prince led a cold, solitary life. His other kin shone so brightly, vivaciously and with such vitality that it was easy for him to fall into the shadows, the darkness, and the madness. He was a scarred second son of a King who did not even deem his firstborn son his heir. Aemond believed deeply in tradition and the stability such a thing brought to the realm; he could not fathom his elder half-sister bringing chaos with her untraditional succession claim. His sister would openly have a bastard follow her on the throne. Perhaps that’s where his true sentiments lay; he did not despise his sister for being a woman with a powerful agency, or even for being the heir to the throne, but for what would come after his sister's succession. What precedent would it set if bastards could inherit before trueborn children? What chaos would that sow within the realm? Aemond was a man of routine, tradition, and unrelenting stability all of which Rhaenyra was inherently posed to ruin.

Aemond didn’t wish to see his little sea nymph fall with her mother, as she undoubtedly would, due to her unending loyalty and devotion to her catastrophic family. His Gentle Dragon had no qualms openly expressing her love and devotion to the young men that would steal her birthright; it was bad enough the elder prince Jacaerys would steal her place upon the iron throne but downright insulting that, the younger than she, Lucerys would steal the birthright of her father from her person by claiming Driftmark. Aemond wished to see her claim her rightful place as the heiress of Driftmark as the only trueborn child of its heir, however, he would not want to see her seated atop the iron throne.

The monolithic, fearsome work of art did not suit the gentle and ever-changing disposition that she carried with her. Unmoving iron and sharp-edged swords should be nowhere near the supple curves and smooth skin lining her form, instead – if it were not for his no-good elder brother – he would sit upon the iron-casted seat of death in her place. He would be her King and she, his Queen. He had only to find a way to keep her with him permanently.  

Perhaps his father's addled mind and desperation for peace would smile fortuitously upon the one-eyed prince, for once.

It had been many a year since his eyes last wandered upon the form of his beloved sea nymph – a name he only acknowledged in his mind's depths. The realm’s Gentle Dragon had returned to Kings Landing alongside the rest of her kin when protests were raised on the legitimacy of her younger brother's claim to Driftmark. Something many deemed rightfully hers. She glowed effervescent in her Velaryon blue and soft violet threaded gown the silk gently forming the curves of her body and flowing down the lengths of her arms and back. It seemed the dress also recognised the girl's call of the sea for it moulded like waves and rippled in each minuscule movement of her own. The train of the gown followed behind her like the sea lapping at the sand of the beach never quite reaching as far in as it wished.

She stood beside her mother with her head held high in pride as her uncle all but disparaged what remained of her mother's good name - if anything was left of it to begin with. It had delighted him to see the Strong princelings debased in such a public manner and their mother alongside them. He enjoyed much less the disparagement of the Crown Princess’s only daughter and the belief that she would fall to the same whims her mother had and beget only bastards for her future husband. No, that did not please the prince at all. He had observed and planned and waited patiently for many a year to gain his nymph and she would give him no bastards – he knew she wouldn’t. His nymph was too intelligent, dutiful, and self-aware of the consequences of such a thing to attempt such a crime.

Still, his blood boiled, and his hands clenched behind his back. It took an effort to keep his stoicism about his person in the face of his ever-present wrath but within a second his wrath was replaced with bewildered wonderment. Gone was Ser Vaemond’s head; instead the figure of his uncle stood tall, proud, and nonchalant in the face of such grotesque violence. Aemond felt the stirrings of admiration and conflict within his chest at such a sight. This man, his uncle, was a threat, an obstacle, his biggest unrelenting guard towards what Aemond had deemed his. All the realms knew of how Daemon favoured his girls over his boys, and none could deny how he had claimed the Gentle Dragon as much his own as his other brown-skinned, silver-haired darlings. He clenched his jaw. It seemed he would need to confide with another of his aspirations if he wanted to succeed where others had failed.

As if the man could hear the thoughts echoing in the princeling's brain the Rogue turned and leered. Aemond could see the taunt within his gaze, the dare for him to be as foolish as the man who kept his tongue but lost his head.

He could hear the whisper Daemon Targaryen’s eyes conveyed.

“Claim her, if you're bold enough.”

Just as he proved to his father when he claimed Vhagar; Aemond would once more prove that he was, indeed, bold enough.

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (II)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 1,911

CW: violence

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen ( can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

A/N thank you soo much for all the likes on the last post, I hope you all enjoy this one!

laughter filled the Godswood as Aemond chased after Aemma, circling the weirwood tree.

Their friendship was admired around the keep, the girl adored by all. Somehow keeping her sweet nature following her brother’s ‘prank’, though she had become timid, often hiding behind Aemond, and never letting go of his hand.

Aemond adored this, he wanted her to be utterly dependent on him, and she was. She listened to what Aemond said, often refused to do something if Aemond did want her to or was unable to come.

It was why her mother considered a match between them following the birth of her newest brother, Joffrey. Aemond had already demanded he one day become her sworn sword once he had completed his training, and she doubted he would accept Aemma’s marriage to anyone but himself.

“Aemma!” he ran up to her, picking her up and spinning around before they fell to the ground in a fit of giggles.

He sighed, turning to his side “My father wishes for me to start attending dragon lessons”.

“Then I shall come also” Aemma declared, grabbing his hand, “then once we have learned we shall claim a dragon together!”

“But Aegon and your brothers will be there” Aemond spoke, trying to deter her.

“so, you don’t want me to come?” she pouted

“of course, but… they’ll be there… and they are nothing but cruel” he insisted ��� I do not want them to torment both you and me over having no dragon”.

“But we are Targaryens, so what if we do not have a dragon… we are dragons!” she laughed, “please Aemond, I could not bear to part from you”.

“It will only be for a few hours”

“And what am I to do?” she got up “Wait and sew? No, I shall come!” she demanded

All Aemond could do is sigh in defeat. Though he really he wasn’t sad about it, it was not like he wanted to part from her either.

Her brothers hadn’t expected her to show up. Much to their disappointment, she had kept her distance from her brothers and Aegon for the past year. Truth be told they did not expect the prank to become what it was, to make Aemma cling to Aemond more and more. 

At dinners, she sat between their mother and father, eating as fast as possible, and on the odd occasion their grandsire called for a family dinner she would place herself between Aemond and Helaena. not uttering a word to her brothers or Aegon, running away when they were near.

And yet today she showed up, hand in hand with Aemond.

When they had heard Aemond was to start attending lessons in the dragon pit, Aegon had come up with the idea, the prank. And Jace and Luke being the jealous brothers they were more than happy to pull it.

All three of the boys regretted their prank on her and had made efforts to reconcile, all failing, miserably. And this prank would become not just a prank on Aemond, but a prank on her also seeing as her Aemond were an extension of one another, much like a dragon and its rider. what one felt, the other did too. They could almost read each other’s minds, always knowing what the other was thinking or saying.

“Aemond, we have  a surprise for you.” Aegon announced, as Jace finished with Vermax.

“Do you have one for me too?” she asked, shyly.

Aegon’s eyes softened, it was the first time she had spoken to him in gods know how long and though he would not and admit it , Aegon had grown a soft spot for the brown-haired girl. “No Aemma, but I’m sure you and Aemond could share” the last part caused Luke to giggle before running of to fetch whatever the surprise was.

“What is it?” Aemond asked, grabbing Aemma’s hand tighter and pulling her into him as Aegon wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

“Something very special” he winked.

“you two are the only ones without a dragon”. 

“indeed” Aemond nodded.

“And we felt bad about it, so… we found you one, Aemond” Aegon announced.

“Found one? Where?” Aemma asked, excited for Aemond, they had always agreed to share a dragon, should one manage to claim one.

“The gods provided” Aegon stated simply, before Jace and Luke came running forward, a rope in hand…. and a pig attached to it.

“Behold…the pink dread!” they announced, as Aemond and Aemma’s face fell.

"Be sure to mount her carefully, the first flights are always rough" they laughed.

Aemond ran off, Aemma was quick to follow.

“The prince Aemond and princess Aemma” a kings guard announced dragging them into queen Alicent  chambers. 

“Aemond, Aemma?” the  queen questioned. “What did you do?”

“they did it again” Helena spoke.

“After how many times you've been warned, must I have you two confined to your chambers?

“They made me do it” Aemond insisted 

“as if you needed the encouragement” Alicent shakes her head “Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding.”

“they gave him a pig” Aemma shouted, seeing Aemonds frustration 

“A what?” 

“They said they found a dragon for me… But it was a pig.” he looked down “they said we could share it”. 

“You will have a dragon one day., both off you” Alicent reassured. 

“He'll have to close an eye.” Helaena whispered lowly. 

“I know it”.

“They all laughed… they even made a tail and wings for it!”

Only Aegon received punishment from the prank, her brothers were let off her mother and grandsire deeming it childish fun and teasing, much to Aemma’s disappointment .

She returned to the cold shoulder, refusing to even acknowledge their presence, not that she did that much before.

The rift between the two families grew even further, rivalry between the mothers spreading towards the children. This time not for the throne, but for Aemma.

Aemond was always with her, the only time they did have with Aemond alone, was their swordsman lessons. Lessons which Aemond had begun to take his lessons with Ser Cole seriously, taking on the role of being Aemma’s defender and protector.

“Keep your feet light and your hands heavy.” Criston ordered.

Aemma stood above the training yard, watching beside her grandsire and the hand.

“This is the stuff, Lyonel…. Lads that learn together, train together... knock each other down, pick each other up. They will certainly form a lifelong bond, wouldn't you agree?” her grandsire spoke, a proud gleam in his voice.

“That is the hope, Your Grace.” Lynol strong agreed, “should the princess be witnessing this, your grace?” he questioned, looking towards her. She had brought a book to read Viserys, though she doubted she could sway his attention away from his sons and grandsons.

“I wish to watch Aemond, lord strong, he had wished to show me his progress” she announced, looking down proudly at Aemond as he swung his sword at the strawman.

“Ahh, let her stay, it is rare I get to see her without her shadow as is” Viserys laughed.

“of course, your grace”

“I've won my first bout, Ser Criston.” She heard Aegon gloat. “My opponent sues for mercy.”

“You'll have a new opponent then, my Lord of the Straw.” Cole spoke “Let's see if you can touch me… You and your brother” he nodded to Aemond.

“Weapons up, boys… Give your enemies no quarter” he spoke, focusing all his attentions on her uncles, as her brothers stood to the side, before greeting Ser Harwin.

“It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston” Harwin spoke.

“You question my method of instruction, ser?”

“Oh, I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils.”

“Very well.” Ser Criston sneered “Jacaerys, come here…You spar with Aegon…Eldest son against eldest son”

Harwin scoffed “It's hardly a fair match.”

“I know you've never seen true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn't something anyone should expect.” Cole snarked “Blades up… Engage.”

“grandsire” Aemma mumbled “it’s hardly fair”.

“oh, its just boys being boys Aemma” he dismissed, focusing on the yard once more.

She averted her eyes, focusing back on her book. Lynol strong too focused on her, his eyes watching her, assessing her. His gaze was soft, but he looked at he as if he knew something she didn’t.

“Lord Strong?” she spoke “would you like to read with me?” she asked, flinching at the sound of metal clashing.

“of course, princess” he nodded, a small smile on his lips.

“You dare put hands on me?” she hears Aegon scream, capturing her and Lynol attention.

“You forget yourself, Strong.” She hears Cole spit out “That is the Prince.

“This is what you teach, Cole? Cruelty... to the weaker opponent?” Harwin scoffed

“Your interest in the princeling's training is quite unusual, Commander” he snarked back, moving in closer saying something she could not hear. Though it must not of been pleasant judging by the punch Harwin landed on her face.

“Stop!” she screamed, flinching away and burying her face in her hands.

“Stop this!” her grandsire repeated, as guards dragged Harwin away from Coles laughing bloody face.

After that everything changed.

Her mother grew desperate, having ser Harwin sent to Harrenhal. He was close to their family and his departure seemed to deeply upset her mother and Jace. she was not too bothered, her mother’s attention now lied in the new babe, Joffrey, and council meetings. She was looking for more and more support, Harwin outburst, and marriage offers seemed to be the best way to secure them.

“I wish to speak. Be seated.” Her mother spoke up, as the small council meeting was pulled to a close “I have felt the... strife... between our families of late, my queen.” She spoke to Alicent “And for any offense given by mine, I apologize. But we are one house. And long before that, we were friends.” Alicent nodded. “My daughter Aemma will inherit Dragonstone after me, I propose a marriage between Aemma and your son, Aemond, the pair are already attached at the hip, let them be the glue that once binds our two families. Ally ourselves... once and for all, let them rule Dragonstone together”

“A most judicious proposition.” Viserys agreed, smiling.

“Additionally, if Syrax brings forth another clutch of eggs, both Aemond and Aemma will have their choice of them, uh... a symbol of our goodwill.”

Alicent nodded, considering. “Rhaenyra” she sighed, looking down. She wanted time to think.

“Oh, Seven Hells. Um...”

“My dear... a dragon's egg is a handsome gift.” Viserys spoke to Alicent.

“The King and I thank you for your offer and we will consider it duly.” She nodded, dismissingly “You must rest now, husband.”

“Yes.”

“The proposal is a good one, my queen. We're a family. Let us put aside these childish quarrels. Join hands and be stronger for it.” Viserys spoke, as they made the way to his chambers.

“yes, Aemond and Aemma shall be pleased” she nodded, “but she is desperate” she sneered “She feels the earth washing away beneath her feet and now she expects us to ignore her transgressions and for me to marry my son to her...” she hesitated, “only daughter”

“Alicent” he sighed, “we agree, on the betrothal?”

“yes” she sighed, keep her beloved daughter in her grasps and she shall have Rhaenyra eating out the palm of her hand.

next part

Taglist (bold wouldn't let me tag)

my lady strong: @aemondssuit @idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyy18 @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @dreamingofyourmoons @aleemendoza2425-blog

HOTD: @targaryenmoony

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

[sapphire-writes]

Idk if requests are still open, but if so...i have an idea that won't leave me alone: after being declared the 'realm's jewel', rhaenyra's daughter must travel to Kingslanding since Vyseris has requested a portrait of her. Cue her having to sit still for hours on end, which Aemond takes advantage of to engage in a duel of wits (I love me some banter and you always do it so well) and throughout the weeks their little squirmishes turn into something more. I just have the constant idea of her painting showing her with a mischievous glint in her eye and smile (almost like having a secret). Aemond of course is totally unaffected by her...totally...not a chance that he's falling in love with her. Wait, why is he secretly securing himself a miniature of the painting?

Portrait of a Lady in Love ~ Aemond x Niece!Reader

word count: 0.9k warnings: none! just fluffy banter! 💖 note: hope you enjoy! I didn't add the taglist to this request, might stop using it for requests? I think I may reblog later with HOTD taglist in case you miss it!

The journey to King’s Landing was a pleasant one. It was always a treat, to fly across the bay of the Blackwater atop your dragon. Watching as her wings dipped to skim the waters, sending salty spray flying and laughter to pour from your lips. 

Soon, the towers of the Red Keep became visible, and Dragonstone was a distant memory. King’s Landing, the place of your childhood, welcomed you home once again. 

You dismount your dragon at the Dragonpit, and she cries eagerly, happy to be reunited with Dreamfyre. You leave her there and proceed to the castle.

“My king,” you call when you enter his chambers. 

King Viserys’ condition has worsened since you were small, and he struggles to turn his head toward you.

“My darling jewel,” he says softly smiling, revealing several missing teeth, “Issa jorrāelagon.”

“I am here, grandsire,” you tell him, sitting on the bed and taking his withered hand in your own.

How it pains you, seeing him like this. Knowing your mother worries about him so often sends a pain piercing through your heart. 

“How lovely you are,” he tells you through shaky breaths.

The room smells like death, it hangs in the air like cobwebs unable to be ignored.

“I have only just arrived,” you tell him, “I must look disgraceful coming from dragonback.”

“You must rest,” he insists, patting your hand. You hold onto him tightly.

“I must stay with you,” you tell him, forcing a smile.

You stay by his bedside until the sun sinks low in the sky and Queen Alicent comes to escort you to your chambers. You’re missed supper and shall have some delivered to your quarters. 

The artist has you seated below the Iron Throne. Several flowers have been draped across you, and spill down the steps, twirling through the swords that are melted to the floor. 

Aemond walks in, expecting supper, and finds you instead pretty and posed in the golden afternoon light. 

“Is there to be a feast?” you ask, trying not to move your lips as you speak.

“There was,” Aemond answers, glancing around the room, “the king suggested it, to celebrate your arrival.” 

You do not answer, trying to stay perfectly still. Aemond walks away to the side of the room. 

“Perhaps they’ve forgotten,” Aemond tells you.

“Perhaps they have.”

His eye flickers to where you sit, chin tilted toward the sky. The Iron Throne frames your head as though a crown. Your dark eyes move toward him, a slight smile on your face, revealing your jest. 

Aemond clicks his tongue.

“Did he suggest the color?” 

“Grandsire?”

“Your grandsire, not mine,” Aemond corrects.

“He did,” you confirm, lips barely moving, “he quite adores me in red.”

“The realm’s ruby then,” Aemond comments, referring to your grandsire’s pet name for you. 

“Would you prefer another?”

The comment is tantalizing. Aemond cocks his head at you. You’d heard the rumors of course, of the jewel that lies behind the patch he wears at court. 

“Perhaps emerald,” he says suddenly. 

“Hmm.”

“Not what you were expecting?” he asks. 

“Emeralds are lovely.”

“You sound displeased,” Aemond probes.

Your mouth twitches into the familiar smirk, as though you are guarding a secret.

“Of course not, my prince. 

The days sitting posed are long, and your muscles ache from sitting so straight. The artist has promised it should take a week, and two days have passed already. Though the hours pass quicker when Aemond makes an appearance. 

“It truly is magnificent,” Aemond murmurs, as the artist applies finishing touches to the piece. 

“Is it?” you call from across the room.

“Well, you’ve ruined it now. Your chin is all wrong.”

“Ha ha,” you tell him, but you blush scarlet at the jest.

“Careful princess,” Aemond says, watching you, “he’ll have to add some color to your cheeks if you continue like that.”

“I am hot, tis all.”

“Would a break please you, princess?” the artist says, flexing his fingers, and dropping the brush on the canvas. 

“That would be lovely,” you tell him, letting your shoulders relax. 

Aemond walks over to you, offering his hand. You graciously accept, wincing as you rise. 

“Are you hurt?” Aemond asks, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Just stiff, tis all,” you tell him, clinging to his arm, “I should stretch my legs I suppose.”

“Allow me,” Aemond says, escorting you from the hall, “some fresh air will do you good.”

Aemond often accompanied you after that, spending time in the great hall while you posed, taking time to escort you through the gardens to stretch your legs. He found himself dreading the day when the portrait was finished. 

The day came sooner than expected.

“It is lovely,” you tell the artist, admiring the portrait.

It feels rather strange to see a version of yourself smiling back, a subtle smirk on your face, a glint in your eye.

“Grandsire shall adore it,” you tell the artist, depositing a full purse of coins in his hand. 

“And for you betrothed,” he says suddenly, handing you a small frame.

Your face creases in confusion.

“My betrothed?” you ask confused.

“Yes, Prince Aemond wished for a copy. For himself,” the artist tells you.

You hold the picture in your hand, lips parting in shock. 

“He wished for a portrait of me? To keep?” you ask, and the artist nods. 

Your cheeks bloom with color, matching that of the lady that sits in the portrait. You are one in the same after all. 

“What are you calling it?” you ask him.

The artist smiles, as though he was waiting for the question.

“Portrait of a Lady in Love.”

note: hope you enjoyed it!

[buckybarnesb-tch]

Random Thought: Aemond Targaryen

Yandere!Aemond

He was a completely obsessed man.

He had been obsessed with you since you were children. You were only slightly younger than him, the only one of Rhaenyra’s children who had white hair and purple eyes, a result of an affair on both Rhaenyra and Daemons part resulting in a girl about 2 years younger than Jace.

You were the only child that people believed was Laenors and you were treated much better for it by everyone, especially the queen.

Once you were born Aemond was about 2 years old and thought you were precious. He constantly begged your sister to hold you and would scream his head off whenever he wasn’t allowed to be with you. You were both dragonless as kids so you had lessons together and were always left out of your brothers and uncles fun and you were always there to comfort your uncle Aemond when his brother and yours went too far in their teasing.

After the night he lost his eye you were taken from him. You had defended him, knowing that you can’t steal a Dragon and if Rhaena wanted her mothers dragon she should have claimed her immediately. Defending Aemond however had lost you the care of all of your family, your brothers and cousins hating you, and your mother resenting you. Daemon was the only one who was still kind to you. About a year after it happened you claimed your own dragon, spending most of your time with Grey Ghost to stay away from your family.

When your family returned to the Red Keep to fight for Luke’s birthright and you were finally able to see your best friend again and he had changed a lot. Aemond had decided as soon as he found out that you were coming, that you would never be leaving him again. You had grown quite a bit, into a beautiful, elegant lady and he had a hard time taking his eye off of you when you came to the courtyard with your brothers. You had left with them but gone off by yourself to find your dragon, never having explored the sky’s here since mounting the small, shy dragon and you thought it would be a great chance. What you did expect was Vhagar nearly scaring your dragon to death.

You two spent the next several hours getting to know each other again, you felt as if no time had gone by and Aemond felt a kind of love and possessiveness he had never experienced in his life.

That night at dinner you two left together after the fight and when Aemond walked you back to your room, he followed you inside, telling you that he wanted to make the most of your time together. That night he convinced you to marry him, a dream you two had had as children which always felt more like a fantasy than an actual possibility but he assured you he could convince both of your families to allow it. He fucked you 8 times that night, continuing to do so after you had collapsed, unable to stay awake any longer, he didn’t stop until he was sure you would bear him a child and he let that be how you two were found the next morning.

The wedding was insanely quick after that morning, you two getting married the next night in the ways of old Valeria, your mother refusing to attend and leaving the next morning with your brothers and father who was the only one to continue speaking with you.

Your life in the Red Keep was never lonely like it had been at Dragonstone, you were with Aemond all day, every day, he never let you out of his sight.

He was possessive, touchy and rude to everyone who so much as looked at you. He had already beheaded 2 of the guards, one for catching you when you tripped, putting his hand on you in a way Aemond deemed inappropriate, and one for looking at you for too long.

You found out 3 weeks after the wedding that you were with child and he became so much worse. He refused to let you go flying anymore without him present or so much as bathe without him there, insisting that you could fall getting in or out of the tub.

You love Aemond very much and you always have, that will never change but no one can deny he smothers you to no end.

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

[dreamlandcreations]

Imagine being captured by the Greens (2)

Imagine being captured by the Greens…

You are getting ready for the wedding, thinking of all the ways you could destroy the Greens while the maids are working tirelessly. But you can't help your wandering mind, thinking back to the day before and the terror you felt at the realisation that they wouldn't simply just keep you captive or kill you.

On the second day of your captivity, Aemond visited you, informing you of what fate will await you if you don't accept their terms. You turned deadly pale as he said the words.

"If you keep being difficult and refuse our generosity, if you keep refusing me, the king will have you and you will not be mine to protect.

You didn't have to know that he would never let that happen, he would never let them hurt you because you are his, finally, truly his and if it's necessary, he will burn all the kingdoms to the ground to keep you.

[pinkykats-place]

Aemond Targaryen x Reader Insert Fics

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Disclaimers!

The stories linked are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Mostly female readers.

Note: if you read and enjoy any of these stories - please like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

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Summary: in a final attempt to salvage the rift between your families, you suggest a marriage pact between you and and Alicent’s second son

Reunion

Aemond x Older Half-Sister!Reader

Summary: You reunite with your brother after the death of your husband.

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

aemond x female!tyrell!reader

Summary: Aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both.

warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism

Touch Starved Aemond

Summary: touch starved aemond aka aemond slowly falling in love with his betrothed by her gentle touches he was deprived of all his life

In the Eye of the Beholder

Summary: Compared to his elder brother, who abused the offerings on the Street of Silk, Aemond’s tastes have always been…tame. 

Can't help falling in love

Summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings

Secret Visits

aemond x female!targaryen!reader

Summary: you are aemond's little sister and he visits you in your room after dinner (smut)

To Have and to Hold

Aemond Targaryen x F!Velaryon (Strong)!Reader

Summary: Reader goes to Storm's End with her younger brother and instead of asking for Lucerys' eye, Aemond claims her as his wife.

"Muña"

Aemond x Older Sister!Reader

Summary: Aemond longs for you, Aegon's twin.

We Light The Way

Aemond x Hightower!Aunt!Reader

Summary: Aemond's beloved aunt returns to the Red Keep, and this time, he is determined to prove the depths of his devotion to her.

Deep Rivers Run Quiet

Aemond x Lannister!Reader

Summary: You have the reputation of being a spoiled young lady of House Lannister, but a certain one-eyed prince sees beyond that.

Ties That Bind

Aemond Targaryen X cousin!Reader

SUMMARY: After spending most of your childhood in the Red Keep, it’s hard to let go of the bonds you’ve formed even with war on the horizon.

The Woes of Betrothals

Synopsis: Recently betrothed, Prince Aemond is unsure on the virtues befitting that of a good husband. Ser Criston offers some surprisingly useful insight. 

Of Flowers & Dragons

Aemond x wife!Reader

Summary: Your daughter wants a sibling and makes it everyone’s problem.

mad blood stirring

Aemond x betrothed!f!Reader

(inspired by the scene in s1e5 where harwin rescues rhaenyra during the wedding feast)

Urgency (smut)

Aemond x afab!Reader

Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures

Mother Knows No Bounds

Aemond x wife!Reader

prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.

Little Dragon

Aemond x wife!Tully!Reader

synopsis ; he was your fire, and you were his sea, willing to push and pull the tides at his behest

Your beauty never scared me

Look after you

Summary: You were betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, and while the two of you got along well enough, you hardly behaved as man and wife. After you suffer a great loss, Aemond decides to change that. (Hurt/Comfort)

Not a child anymore

Prince Aemond Targaryen x older!fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You are Queen Alicent’s favourite young lady in waiting and Prince Aemond’s childhood friend. However, he is sick and tired of you viewing him as nothing but a child when he is a man now and he will not let anyone else have you.

Just A Touch

Aemond x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: During a ball made to celebrate the name day of King Viserys, Aemond falls in love with Daemon's first daughter, and he is eager to dance with her.

Gold Rush

Aemond x Lannister!Reader

Synopsis: Everybody wants you, and I don’t like a gold rush.

Pearl of The Realm

Aemond x newlywed!reader

Summary: Duty meant a lot of things to Aemond. But he had hoped that it would not mean marriage. And when the day comes for him to confront it, he finds with his new wife, small, naiive and innocent, that there is some pleasure to be found there also.

Mini Series: Castling

Aemond x twin!reader x Dameon

Warning! Very mature content

AU

"A Love Like War"

Ares!Aemond x Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Aemond, the God of War, does his best to woo you, the Goddess of Love, though obstacles meet you at every turn.

Pomegranate Seeds

Hades!Aemond x Persephone!Reader

Summary: a retelling of the abduction of Persephone

[elegantsplendour]

Comparison

One-Shot (fluff + light smut)

Warning: slight sexual content (virgin writing smut)👀

Spanking, fingering

Pairing: Aemond x Tyrell Reader x Aegon

Note: Aegon is NOT a r*pist in this story!

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @buglyberry @theroyaldixon @aemondx

Summary: The Targaryen princes have been chasing you around for a while now. You’ve always harboured a soft spot for Aemond, but Aegon’s womanizer charms are devouring your last shred of morality.

You, taught alongside with the Targaryen princes, were among the few ladies of your status to receive a proper education. Aemond and you have been close since you were merely children. You have been the only one he confessed his overwhelmingly confused emotions to: pride of claiming Vhagar, hatred against the Strong bastards, pain and insecurity of losing his eye.

Your heart swelled with pride as you watched him grow into a prolific warrior, a calculated strategist, and an undeniable force to be reckoned with. No words could do justice to the immense pride you felt in seeing him become the man he was meant to be.

The exact moment when your feelings for each other became apparent is a blur to both of you. Perhaps it was when he reached up to grab a book from a high shelf, his lips almost brushing against yours in the process, or maybe it was when he held you close after training in the yard, and you whispered in his ear, "I love it when you're all sweaty like this."

Over time, you began to realize the effect your blossoming body had on him. When riding Vhagar together, you would relish in his frustration at losing self-control at the sensation of your luscious bottom pressed against him.

But he is a dragon, you are a Tyrell. Neither of you were going to give in without a game of chase.

But Aegon was a whole another story.

Unlike Aemond, he had never been the studious companion to you. While his younger brother and you were busy testing each other’s limits, Aegon showed you that no such word as “limit” exists in his life philosophy.

Now. You know better. Aegon Targaryen is your karma for teasing his younger brother with your delicious maiden body.

Gods. You cursed at the sight at Lady Errya sneaking out of Aegon’s chamber, followed by the half-naked prince himself.

How is it possible that he looks so annoyingly attractive? You questioned. Never did he commit such time and energy in the training yard as Aemond did.

“You’re staring, my lady,” he approached smirking, “like what you see? If you want to see everything l, all you have to do is ask.”

Your eyes rolled in response while your lips betrayed you, twisting into a shy smile. "Oh, come on, Aegon. I'm sure," you cleared your throat, meeting his mischievous gaze, "I'd much rather enjoy Aemond in this state than you."

“Oh how you hurt me,” Aegon pressed his hand onto his heart, pretending to be in pain, his eyes glimmering with playfulness.

"However," he approached, "I highly doubt that my younger brother would entertain your...pleasurable fantasies anytime soon."

“Ugh,” you groaned in annoyance, “if you will excuse now my prince,” you pushed him away, “I am going to find Aemond to fulfill my those fantasies of mine.”

“Good luck with that, little doe,” Aegon’s lips brushed through yours as he returned to his chamber.

You sighed in frustration, acknowledging that Aegon's words were true. This game between you and Aemond was consuming you. But what else was consuming you? The intense heat that smoldered between your legs as you greedily inhaled the remaining scent of Aegon, lingering in the empty hallway after he had left you.

___________________________

The feast of your 16th name day was coming to a close. As Queen Alicent always wished a betrothal between Aemond and you, she, along side with your mother a royal calibrer affair for your celebration.

Aemond and you were wandering in the garden of the Red Keep, your hands tangled together, when Aegon’s mischievous call interrupted your romantic bubble.

Aemond’s eyes widened at what Aegon was holding.

“Look what I found, my little brother’s hidden journal,” Aegon opened the leathery book as he read loudly, “ ‘Her lips will be mine to claim and her sweet-‘“

You grabbed the book in a swift motion while Aegon was amused by the murdering expression on Aemond’s face.

Your cheeks flushed at the sight of the continuation of your prince’s forbidden desires.

“Well, Aegon,” you leaned your arms on his shoulder with a sly grin, “Thank you for bringing such improper thoughts to my attention.”

“Give it back, Lady Tyrell,” Aemond clenched his fists as he addressed you formally, knowing exactly that it would trigger you.

“Fine,” you gritted your teeth, throwing back his journal into Aemond’s hands, “but I think I should reward your brother,” you leaned closer to Aegon, wrapping one arm around his neck and grinned, “you should be my escort on my name day.”

Aemond grabbed your hand, tearing you away from his brother forcefully as he growled, “you wouldn’t dare.”

“Our little doe can decide for herself, Aemond,” Aegon grinned, sitting himself on a nearby bench, amused by the scene before him.

You stumbled at his choice of word “our,” but what came out of Aegon’s mouth completely caught you off guard.

“After all, I am the first-born, aren’t I?”

Eyes widened, you glared at him ferociously and grasped Aemond’s forearm. Before you could explain that you were only teasing him, Aemond’s eye darkened instantly at his comment, “I wish my brother’s company would keep you well satisfied, my lady.”

With that, he extricated from your grip and walked away, leaving you filled with guilt and confusion.

“I hate you, Prince Man-Whore-of-King’s-Landing,” you nudged on Aegon’s chest.

“Careful there, little doe, that is no way to address your future king. And stop with all the violence, you wouldn’t want to kill me and leave yourself escortless on your own name day, correct?”

Usually, you would probably laugh at his senseless humour. But now, with the hurt and coldness and Aemond’s face etching into your heart, you replied indifferently, “I do not care.”

_______________________________

As your maid worked on the laces of your sumptuous gown in a delicate shade of green that matched your house, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details. The fabric was woven with pearls and jewels, adding an extra layer of extravagance to your already lavish attire. Your hair was meticulously styled into delicate tendrils, adorned with shimmering jewels that caught the light with each turn of your head. The careful arrangement of each strand showcased the elegance and sophistication of your look, leaving no doubt that you were the belle of the ball.

You turned around as you heard the sound of knocking.

Aegon, dressed in a refined dress-suit in Targaryen colours, his natural curly hair straightened and arranged, unlike anything like his usual drunken self.

Although the lack of Aemond’s presence still consumed your being, you couldn’t help but to chuckle as you turned back to face the mirror to avoid his gaze, “My prince, I cannot believe I am saying this, but you do not need to imitate your brother,” a sly grin appeared on your lips as your eyes fixed on his bizarrely straightened hair.

He approached slowly, “I’m afraid that I do, little-“ he hesitated, “my lady. It’s what my mother expects of me.”

“It is what you expect of me,” Aegon uttered, his hand brushing your cheek with a trace of melancholy.

“I never said that! Don’t you twist my word, I just…” you interjected poignantly, “I just imagined being here with Aemond for,” you lowered your head, feeling tears filling your eyes, “as long as I could remember.”

You trembled at the sensation of his arms wrapped around you.

“Aemond will come around. He loves you.”

You looked at him with disbelief, “He told you that?”

Aegon laughed softly, “It’s unlike you, little doe, so witty and observant, to be so blind to see what’s right in front of you.”

You rolled your eyes, “So he didn’t. Come on now, Aegon. Your mother and mine are already mad enough that Aemond isn’t escorting me. Let’s not give them more reason to scold us for being late.”

“It is your name day, little one, we can be as late as we want,” he grinned, offering his arm, “I will give you the night of your life, I promise.”

_______________________________

As soon as you entered the grand hall, you felt the weight of your mother and the queen's gazes on you. The lords and ladies from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms had gathered for your 16th name day feast, and it was hard to miss the air of a royal wedding that lingered in the atmosphere. Queen Alicent had always preferred her younger son over her firstborn, which was no secret to anyone. Her constant disappointment was a source of great trouble, and she had made it clear that she wished for you to marry Aemond. You couldn't help but swallow hard as memories of your mother's endless reprimands flooded your mind. You have failed the Queen and Prince Aemond.

As the dance began, your eyes fixated on Aemond who was paired with Lady Floris, an equally fair beauty of House Baratheon. Your heart quickened, and your cheeks flushed as you caught his gaze lingering on you, his eye smoldering with a flame that set you ablaze.

“Eyes on me, little doe,” Aegon’s lips grazing your earlobe as he swept you off your feet. Fuck, you realized. Lost in your fixation on Aemond, you had forgotten the dance steps you had practiced for months. You couldn't help but feel the heat radiating from every part of your body as Aegon's hands rested on your waist, but the feeling was quickly replaced by jealousy and anger as you watched Aemond dance with Lady Floris. The wine began to take effect, and when the partners exchanged, you boldly spun into Aemond's arms with a carefree abandon, catching the attention of the most distinguished guests in the ballroom.

"You're mine, my prince," you said, your brown eyes flashing with a hint of red.

“Yours, humm? Then why choose to be here with Aegon?" he asked, his hand on your waist as he dipped you low, causing your hair to brush the floor. His hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine as he whispered, "my flower?" You felt a surge of conflicting emotions - desire, anger, and guilt - as you looked up at him, unsure of what to say.

“Aemond,” your voice sounded like a plea or, better yet, a moan.

The exchange happened again. Aegon looked at you with a mixture of melancholy and desire, “I told you, little doe. He loves you.”

Head clouded by the taste of wine, your eyes wandered everywhere in the room, catching a glimpse of the queen’s disdainful look towards Aegon, who also spotted her rejection.

To be completely sincere, the queen’s opinions are the least of your concerns, at least, among the concerns of your heart. However foolish and inconsiderate Aegon’s actions may be, he did not deserve her mocking tone and neglecting.

You remember the countless times when Aemond held you close while the queen slapped Aegon for everything from actual indiscretions to the most minor offenses. It pained you to see the red marks on his face, the same face that brought you joy and laughter, now bearing a vulnerable expression.

Your fingers seized Aegon’s chin, “Eyes on me now, my favourite dragon.”

“Your favourite dragon?” Aegon chuckled in surprise, “Aemond would have my head if he heard that.”

You tucked your hands in his ridiculously straightened hair, “Aemond is my favourite prince. My prince. You are my favourite dragon. My dragon.”

“Don’t you ever ever straighten your hair again, Aegon Targaryen,” you warned with all seriousness.

“As you wish, little doe,” his heart flushed with adoration as he squeezed your waist possessively.

A few more exchanges.

A few more cups of wine, perhaps, a lot more than a few.

You did have the best night of your life, but something was missing. You excused yourself as you stepped outside catching your breath.

You smiled smugly, relishing in the satisfaction of seeing Aemond and Aegon trailing after you, following your lead.

Aemond leaned in and cupped your cheeks in his hands, “My flower, you’ve had too much to drink. Let me take you back to your chamber.”

Clearly disliking the idea of retreating, you laughed hysterically and snitched away from his embrace, “Catch me, Aemond. The night is far from over.”

With that, you ran away. The moon shone on the garden of the Red Keep, casting a soft, ethereal glow over everything it touched, including you. You stopped at the center, where a fountain sparking with its water under the moonlight stood. The sound of trickling water and the gentle hum of insects echoed through the air, a soothing lullaby to anyone who cared to listen.

Your body moved instinctively at nature's orchestra, the sound of their footsteps only exacerbated your excitement.

And there they are.

Aegon, panting in laughter and awe.

Aemond, concern written all over his face.

“Kiss me?”

For an instant, they both stepped forward, but it was Aemond who crashed your lips. The kiss lasted for like an eternity, a kiss that sealed your destiny.

As your eyes opened while gradually pulling away from each other, Aegon’s expression was brimmed with melancholy.

Perhaps, it was the remaining witchcraft of alcohol; perhaps it was your devious and manipulative Tyrell nature finally showing its true face, you fell on the stone floor, pretending to be unconscious.

You felt Aemond picking you from the ground, followed by Aegon, rushing to the quarter of your chambers. As soon as you heard they were going to call the maesters, you giggled playfully and wrapped your arms around Aemond’s neck.

“You should rest,” Aemond’s voice turned serious as he realized that you tricked them into entering your chamber.

Ignoring his request, you tucked yourself into Aegon’s embrace, “Thank you. Aegon. I have never felt more alive.”

Aegon chuckled and caressed your hair softly, “Always, little doe. Always.”

Aemond’s expression darkened at your intimacy. He grabbed your chin and growled demandingly, “Y/N Tyrell, you’re playing a dangerous game. I may have lost an eye, but I am not blind. You are playing us both. Choose.”

Shocked at his sudden change of demeanour, a flow of guilt and fear washed over you.

“What, little brother? Afraid of games now?” Aegon approached him, pushing his arm gripping on you away, “I thought you enjoyed playing games in court.”

“Stay out of this, Aegon, this is between me and her,” Aemond warned menacingly.

“Tell me what you want, little doe. Tell us what you want,” Aegon cupped your cheeks, his dark violet eyes piercing through your soul, “You know we would give you the world, don’t you?”

Aemond stayed in silent agreement.

Your body trembled at the intensity of the situation, “I want…no” you closed your eyes, knowing that what you were about to say could ruin everything between you.

“You want both of us, don’t you?” Aegon answered for you.

You nodded instinctively.

“You heard her, Aemond,” he leaned closer to his younger brother, who seethed with anger, “you want her to choose? Why don’t we give her a comparison? Just this once.”

“No,” Aemond’s answer was strong and firm, “I will not let you destroy her, like you destroyed I can’t even count how many noble ladies in court.”

“Don’t be such a hypocrite, Aemond. You are a taker. You take what you want unapologetically. Isn’t that how you claimed Vhagar? Now you’re denying the woman you love what she wants? Don’t you want her to have everything?”

He was right.

He was right.

He was right.

Torn between his ego and arousal, Aemond pinned you against the wall, his lips devouring your mouth and hands roaming your body greedily, “Is that what you want? To have two dragons at once? To be thoroughly ravished?”

You moaned in your mouth a barely recognizable yes.

A mixture of shame, excitement, arousal and fear flowed through your body as Aemond removed you from the back of the wall without warning, pressing your back against Aegon.

While Aemond’s touches are rough and possessive, Aegon’s were soft and sensual.

As Aemond’s kisses traile down your breast, Aegon breathed softly, “Do you want to try something experimental, little doe? Do you want to be punished for the little scheme luring us in your chamber? Over my knees? Do you want your precious Aemond to watch?” You moaned uncontrollably as the words sank into your mind.

“Tell him,” he encouraged you, grinning, his eyes fixed on his brother, “tell him what you want, my sweet, if you don’t wish to see me dead.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the heat and arousal between your legs, “Aemond… I want… I- I want him to punish me.”

Aemond clenched his fists. Even with your eyes closed, you could sense the wrath of possessiveness exuding from his breath.

“If you hurt her, I will kill you.”

Aegon smirked, “Sit down and enjoy the show, I will take good care of her.”

Unanticipatedly, Aegon flipped you on his lap, your bottom high, exposed to them both.

With his expert hands teasing your calves to your inner thighs, you squirmed and whined in desperation.

In a sudden move, Aegon ripped your delicate stockings open and flipped over your voluminous gown.

He first rubbed your bottom gently, causing you to unconsciously raise your hips higher, a sharp smack landed on your buttocks, enough for your body to burn in heat but not enough to cause true pain.

“So beautiful yet so naughty,” he whispered, “luring dragons into your chamber.”

Your chest heaved with each quickened breath. As you raised your head for a fraction of an angle to meet Aemond’s eye, a second smack landed.

This is not supposed to be happening. All this time, you’ve been craving for Aemond’s attention and Aegon’s touch, now that you had both, fear and anticipation creeped in your soul as the wetness between your legs resumed to consume your last shred to propriety.

Aegon continued to tease you with light spanks, interspersed with gentle caresses, until she was writhing under his touch.

"Do you like that, little doe?" Aegon asked, his voice low and husky. "Do you want more?"

You could only nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Enough,” Aemond declared, his eye burning with desire, lifting you up from Aegon’s lap, “My turn.”

Aemond pushed you on the bed, his hands pinning yours steadily above your head.

You find yourself responding eagerly to his kiss.

Aemond

Aemond

Aemond

You moaned with effort, strangling to catch your breath, as his lips locked your mouth in an almost punishing way.

“I love you,” you murmured with your eyes closed, “I’ve always loved you.”

Aemond stopped his advances, his remaining eye fixed on yours before crashing his lips on you again, this time somewhat more gentle.

“Looks like she has made a choice, brother,” Aemond’s lips curled into a cruel smile, locking his gaze on Aegon.

“I see,” Aegon closed the gap between him and you, pressing a soft kiss on your neck, “you may love him, little one, but your body will always crave me more.”

Aemond’s last shred of tolerance shattered, “Get, out.” He ordered, almost growling.

Aegon winked at you with longing and disappointment before he took the hint and quietly sneaked out of your chamber.

“Now, where were we?” Aemond smirked.

“Such a greedy little thing you were, arching your back, begging for my brother’s touch,” he seethed, leaving a mark on your neck, “but know this, my flower, when I am done with you, you will forget your own name. You will beg you for me to take you, every single day for the rest of your life.”

Your maiden body, never experienced such overwhelming pleasure, trembled as Aemond’s hand reached your core and pinched your pearly without mercy.

As you were about to cry out, his lips sealed your mouth.

When he finally traced his kisses down your neck to your breast, you mumbled, “I love you. I love you. I love you, Aemond. Only you.”

How pathetic must you have been? Did you really think he didn’t hear you the first time you said it? Was it possible that your prince was simply deflowering you before discarding you after the shame you have brought upon him tonight?

As such thoughts sank in, a shed of tears fell.

“I love you too, my sweet, you are my everything,”Aemond crawled back on top of you, his voice low and promising, “You will be my wife and carry our children. We will leave a legacy of our own, just as we promised each other when you were children.”

“I want to see you, Aemond. I want to see all of you,” you spoke tenderly, your eyes filled with affection.

He did not hesitate to take off his eye-patch and it was far from the first you had seen him in whole.

Without warning, a strange and intrusive sensation caused you to gasp in pleasure and pain.

“Aemond,” you pleaded.

“It was just one finger, love, just you wait.”

“Faster.”

“Aegon was right, you are such a needy, greedy little thing, so ready for my touch, and I love it,” he did not need further encouragement in inserting a second finger into you.

“Aemond,” you whimpered, “I think I’m close, please don’t stop.”

“Never,” he squeezed your bottom ferociously as his hands sped up the pace and helped you reach your climax.

“Fuck!” You screamed.

“I love you!” You two shout out unamously.

“Gods, that was amazing,” you covered your face in the pillow as you felt the overwhelming pleasure flowing into every square inch of your body.

The sound of Aemond leaving the bed left you in horror.

“Don’t you dare leave me like this, Aemond Targaryen!” You protested in disbelief, torn in desperation and desire.

Aemond laughed softly as he pulled the back of your head into a hungry kiss, “did you really think, my flower, that I would claim you before our wedding night? Tonight is just a taste of heaven, my dear.”

You flicked his hand as you pouted in annoyance, “I hate you.”

Aemond’s expression darkened as he lifted your chin once more, “Take care of your own needs tonight, my princess. You will have plenty of time to hate me. To scream my name and beg for more. There is plenty of punishment awaiting for your indiscretions tonight.”

You bit your lips as a sly smile crawled on your face.

“Well, my prince, your flower desperately awaits,” you raised your brows playfully as you revealed the end of your thigh before sinking into the depths of your quilt, “I wish you a successful self-pleasuring session back in your own chamber.”

Aemond headed, ignoring your remark, “That little mouth of yours, little Tyrell,” he grinned, “You will learn to keep it shut when I fuck your soul out of you.”

You gasped at his response, but it was too late. He had already left you in your empty, unfulfilled desires.

[alyshiba]

Lilagon hen zaldrizoti

Part One: Debts and stale oaths.

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.

Author's note: Hello lovely readers! I have desappeared for a while.. life sometimes gets in the way. I have thought long and hard about this fic, and, as much as I love it, re-reading it made me cringe at some of the hearliest chapters.. so, as I have hinted in the last author's note, I have decided to rewrite everything until chapter 8. There will be some minor changes, for the better. I cannot possibily move on writing this without fixing the beginning, my brain doesn't allow me to.

Since I found transalting in Valyrian a mess (also becouse every translator gives different translation), for longest phrases I'll simply put them between asteriscs . So if you see anything that is being said formatted like this <<*dialogue*>> that's meant to be in high valyrian. So, if you are a new reader and you wish to know what happens next.. both here and on Ao3 you'll find all of the 12 chapters I've written so far. Here on Tumblr, once I'll have the rewritten chapter ready I'll delete the old one and post the new, both in the master list and in the index at the beginning of each part. On Ao3 each chapter will stay up until I've completely rewritten everything that needs to. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to comment them down below. I'd love to hear them and better my work!

Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

&lt;<Go home, pup, and tell the bitch your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not a dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes>> Said Borros Baratheon with a smug look on his face. 

The round hall of Storm’s End was packed with people, how many it was impossible to say. The gargantuan hall was too big and dimly lit to possibly ever count every single present. Worse still, all the nooks, pillars and columns offered the perfect hiding spot for all of those who were curious to just get a glimpse of the two Targaryens present.

The entire room fell silent for a long moment, as if holding its breath. The only sounds that could be heard were those of the raging storm outside. 

Everyone was too eager to hear how the young prince would respond to such insult thrown at his mother.

That, perhaps, was why no one paid any attention to the angry footsteps that were fast approaching.

Lucerys was about to open his mouth and speak, slightly trembling between the imposing figures of the Lord of Storm’s End and the uncle he didn’t expect to find there, but he was cut off before he could make any sound by a stronger, angrier, voice. &lt;<Then all of Westeros will know that Borros Baratheon, the Lord of Storm’s End, is an oath breaker and a man without honor>>.

She could see Borros stiffening in his seat, Luke’s back straightened recognizing his eldest sister’s voice. The young prince was bracing for impact: either her anger was directed at him, for the failure of that diplomatic mission, or at the Lord of Storm’s End. His head  shooting in her direction, a wave of dark curly hair falling in front of his eyes wide opened in shock. She passed him, and just quickly, taking care that no one saw, squeezed his hand in reassurance. 

Immediately she took notice of Aemond, almost hidden in the dark side of the room, not far from the stone throne at the center. She forced herself not to stare, nor think, at the silver-haired prince, and locked her gaze on the high lord in front of her, but she did not give him her entire focus. Never, that she left for Aemond alone.

A young page, drenched from head to toe, came running, halting just a few steps in front of her. He bent over for a moment with his hand on his knees catching his breath. It was a gesture of physical need, rather than a curtsy towards his liege, he was supposed to announce her presence. &lt;<The princess Visenya, of the houses Targaryen and Velaryon, my lord>> He said, between heavy breaths, <&lt;my prince>> he added, when he noticed Aemond staring in their direction. The young man was immediately dismissed with a wave of Borros’ hand, not to be seen again.

Visenya lifted her chin, and  took note of her prey: the man on the high seat. Borros was a middle aged man, heavier in shape, but still the hint of the warrior could be seen hidden under the heavy furs. Not that she really thought the man did any sort of physical fighting in the past years. His body was tense, like a rope.  He was clutching the throne’s handle so hard his knuckles became white, and she imagined the tips of his fingers would soon bleed, either from broken nails or from the scratch of skin on the rough stone. He was a proud man, like the crowned stag flappin on the banner atop his head. And the insult she threw at him had rendered him so enraged he could hardly think straight. Just as she had wanted him.

&lt;<And worse still>> She continued, moving two steps closer to the object of her own anger, <<may I remind you that we are kin by blood? My grandmother, the princess Rhaenys is your cousin, no?>> Visenya felt now how Borros was already tasting the bitter accusation on the tip of his tongue. No one, in the huge round hall of Storm’s End had yet dared make a sound, <<what would her uncle, the late Lord Boremund think, of his son waging war on his own flesh and blood?>> His face was slowly, but surely, turning all shades of red by now, <<is that what you wish? To forever brand your house as Kinslayers? Men without honor? Is that what the men of the Stormlands wish to become?>>

Visenya had given up on winning House Baratheon over to their side the moment she landed in the yard. Parts of her had known ever since her mother decided to send Luke, just like her father had known. Still Rhaenyra was hopeful, and naive, that this man would abide by the vows of his father.

Yet even if the high lord was a better man, there was something that they could just not grant him: a marriage. The princess allowed her gaze to wander the room for a moment, three girls stood on one side of Borros, his daughters. One behind Aemond. Who wouldn’t wish for their blood to mix in the royal family?

Borros had no love for Rhaenyra, and had taken his decision long before even Luke stepped foot in these halls, but, if she played her game the right way, she could persuade his lords to mutiny. And now she was indeed winning. 

She could see, clear as day, the seed of doubt in the eyes of the lords around Borros, the fear, not for her, or for her parents, not yet, but the fear for what the gods might bring them should they follow that man into war. That was her only chance.

&lt;<Do not mistake the Queen’s offer for weakness, my Lord>> Visenya willed her voice to become gentler, softer, more diplomatic, <<my mother, unlike the Hightowers,>> and yourself, was what she didn’t say, <<does not wish to plunge the realm into war, or else I wouldn’t be here to talk>> she moved her gaze towards her uncle then, the only true danger in that room, or outside of it, <<but if her hand is forced, then I will have no other choice than to fly Balerion the dread to war once more.>> Aemond hadn’t moved a step from his position. He was standing at ease, his hands locked behind his back, a sardonic smile gracing his features, as if he was enjoying the scene.

Everyone else straightened at her words. 

It was now widely accepted that at least one battle was going to be fought over Viserys’s succession. Or else the negotiation would take place among the royal family, yet no one had dared voice what, deep down, they feared: a Targaryen civil war would never be fought on land with an army. It would be fought on dragonback. And everything else might as well burn down by the time they were finished.

&lt;<My sweet niece>> Aemond purred. His voice sent a chill down her spine, Visenya wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating Aemon’s abilities only because of the lack of one eye. She remembered seeing him best Ser Criston Cole with ease in the training yard not even a moon ago. So her hand, as useless as a gesture it was, went instinctively on the hilt of the dagger her father had given her upon parting from Dragonstone. He was, after all, the only reason she was in Storm’s End to begin with. Upon flying home, she had felt Balerion sensing the presence of Vhagar. And in that specific moment she realized she had no other choice: there wasn’t a scenario where poor Luke was going to make it back to Dragonstone unharmed, not if Aemond were in sight. Not after what had been done to her uncle, which still angered him to no end, apparently.

&lt;<I fear your time here is wasted. Lord Baratheon has already declared his support for Aegon, and surely, he cannot take back his world>> She looked between her uncle and the man still mute on the throne, whose muscles were still all contracted in rage. Aemond’s offer had been indeed an offer of marriage, as she had thought. 

Visenya decided to take in his figure for a moment: he was tall, lean, and his leather clothes -riding gear, perhaps- were clean and dry, where hers were drenched by the storm outside, and her boots were covered in the mud that now flooded the yard. Her hair were equally as wet, and fell in loose waves attached to her face, neck and leathers, his looked like a straight soft curtain of silver silk. Aemond had been here for at least a day. A day he could have used to devise whatever plan to ensure his brother’s ass would sit on the throne at least a while longer. Because it was obvious to anyone that messengers would go on about every corner of the realm to ensure the support of the major houses.

She felt the grip of anxiety taking a hold of her stomach: what if he had anticipated them being here? After all, when not on Balerion’s back she wasn’t that big of a threat, definitely not to a warrior with his skills.

&lt;<He offered his hand in marriage to the eldest daughter of Borros>> Whispered Luke in confirmation. His tone still betrayed his fear, and broke her attention by the dark pit that her mind had become. She willed herself not to be hostage of her fears <&lt;worry not>> she whispered back, looking him in the eyes, <&lt;you should leave>> she said. Luke didn’t listen. 

Aemond’s hatred for her brothers was well known, especially for Luke, the one responsible for his, probably still very painful, injury. She noticed the way he eyes Lucerys every now and then, how he was completely trained on her brother’s every move, like a predator waiting to strike. 

&lt;<Oh>> She said, willing all of her nerves to calm down. Visenya lifted her upper lip, in a childish expression, <<then I shall order Balerion to burn the keep to the ground, and end this treason before it starts>> Aemond smirked, it was clear that he did not believe that she was actually thinking about it. Visenya was considering it as an option though. Yes, Rhaenyra wouldn’t be happy, on the contrary, she would be furious if she did, in fact, start this war. Yet Visenya couldn’t help but remembering her father’s words “you cannot allow this treachery to take root” Daemon had angrily said in the privacy of their chambers, is anger amplified ten folds  after the news of the stillbirth, “they have murdered Viserys, our daughter, any faithful Lord we had in the capital. They had signed their own death sentence. Or ours, if we do not act”. In stark contrast with his wife, Daemon would rejoice greatly if his beloved daughter started a war. And, at times, she felt much more like her father’s child rather than her mother’s.

She understood both sides though: Daemon was like the dragon, fiery, proud and untamable. Rahenyra was like that too, but she was a woman: considered unfit to rule only for the missing cock between her legs, she had grown to be wiser, calmer, prone to choose diplomacy over fire and blood. For she couldn’t afford becoming also the one who started this war, even though right now, battle seemed inevitable, Visenya could hear it, what everyone would start to whisper then Maegor the cruel come again, Maegor with tits. Yet she could see the truth in Daemon’s words, if left unchecked the Hightowers will eventually eat away any support her mother has now. Seven hells, they were already doing that. &lt;<Princess Visenya..>> Spoke Borros at last, uncertain of his own words.

The threat of Balerion seemed to have awakened him from his rage. He looked calmer now, paler. All redness faded from his face, his hands were not clutching the throne with the same strength, and, as she had imagined, she could see dried blood on the tips of fingers, where his nails had broken. He was old enough to have lived in the last year of the Old King’s reign, old enough to be at the great council in Harrenhall. Meaning that he had seen first hand the blasted ruin Balerion had made of the greatest keep that ever existed in Westeros. He saw what her dragon was capable of doing.

&lt;<I must assume that my uncle has promised you a wedding>> She said, playing ignorant. The high lord slowly nodded, turning his head towards his daughter. It was confirmation enough. She too looked again in that direction, only to find Aemond’s surprised expression. He knew what she was about to say, he probably thought that she would not actually go through with it.

&lt;<Yet he is not free to offer his hand in marriage>> She said with gritted teeth. Visenya reasoned that she could, indeed, walk out of the Round Halls, climb atop Balerion and order him to burn the keep to the ground. It was what Daemon would do. Rhaenyra, however, would try to be diplomatic. In one swift stroke Visenya could avoid the war for a while longer, in either case she would take the second largest dragon in the world out of the picture. But there could be a twisted, dark pleasure in turning Aemond against his family, just like Alicent and Otto had done.

&lt;<What do you mean?>> interrupted Borros, with an irritated tone. His daughter, Cassandra, if she recalled correctly, instinctively moved closer to him.

&lt;<In his wisdom, and with the hope it would bring unity back to our house, the late King Viserys, in his very last act as King, declared my betrothal to Aemond. His eldest unwed son, to me, the lawful heir to my mother’s throne>> The stormlord pursed his lip, he had been used and played, in the end, truly like a dog that had been commanded at need, yet not by Rhaenyra, but by the Greens. His pride wouldn’t allow him to let this go easily, or, at least she hoped so, <<does she speak the truth?>> he asked Aemond, rage once again gracing his features. Borros instinctively gripped the handles of the throne again, only to let go almost immediately. Probably because of the stinging pain of broker nails and ruined fingertips.

Visenya wasn’t happy to bring this up. In truth, amidst the sorrow for the loss of a grandsire, and the rage for the ease with which Otto and Alicent Hightower had usurped the throne, she had been relieved the day her grandmother had brought news from King’s Landing, for it meant that her betrothal to Aemond had no more reasons to be.

Yet now it seemed the only reasonable thing that would end this mess without bloodshed. She hoped that, at least, between a devastating war fought with dragons, rather than armies, and the prospect of Aemond eventually ruling the kingdoms by her side, the Hightowers would choose the latter. Even though she knew that a similar match had been bitterly refused by the queen dowager once.

She hoped that this one time she chose to be like her mother, the aftermath wouldn’t come to bite in the arse later.

&lt;<We do not need your armies, Lord Borros, for I’m sure you have been thought what had happen the last time Balerion had been sent to war against other dragons>> She looked at Aemond while speaking, the one she would be sent to kill should war break out, or the husband she would have to wed, <<we came to offer you peace, under the one true Queen of Westeros>>.

There was a long pause before anyone spoke out loud, many lords, or advisors, she didn’t care to know, spoke in hushed tones to Lord Baratheon, likely weighing their options. At last a guard came, from outside, given the pools of rainwater he left at every step, surely to confirm the presence of her dark monster within the castle walls. As if she could have appeared out of nowhere in any other way.

&lt;<Out, all of you>> Screamed at last the Stormlord, <<as I already said, the Stormlanders are not dogs to be whistled up at need>> Visenya guessed that this was the best result she would ask for. Borros would’n support Rhaenyra, but he wouldn’t either give his support to Aegon.

Once more she pushed Luke back, with more urgency now. 

As long as they were under Baratheon's roof, she knew Aemond couldn’t really harm him, or at least she hoped so. But once they were out it was another story entirely. Arrax, after all, could easily fit in either Balerion or Vhagar’s mouths.

Finally Lucerys understood the message, and turned on his heels, followed suit by some of the guards that were stationed at their side. He quietly bowed to Borros, a gesture of respect that had Visenya raise a brow, and started to walk outside.

&lt;&lt;Wait>> Called the velvet voice of Aemond. It sent a cold chill down her spine, <<my Lord Strong>> -don’t turn- Visenya angrily thought, -keep walking- yet of course her brother had to stop and turn her head.

&lt;<Did you two really think that you fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne without consequences?>> Visenya’s hand gripped the dagger she had hidden, praying that dark, hateful Aemond wouldn’t consider harming a woman. Not that she was afraid of her life, she had quit feeling any sense of self preservation the night she had claimed Balerion, no, she just knew that if Aemond went for Luke and ignored her, she could have an opening to push her blade right in his black heart.

&lt;<Is it truly stealing though, when you are merely taking back what is yours by right?>> She said, stepping in the middle of the fight against all common sense. It took one look towards her brother to realize how terrified he was of Aemond. And that sent her mind spiraling again: if she wasn’t fast enough? <<Do you think yourself so inadequate, incapable, of ruling to spit like that on the prospect of sitting the Iron Throne by my side?>> She saw then the anger in his one eye, Visenya had definitely hit a sore spot. 

In one swift, graceful movement Aemond stepped closer to hte siblings, grabbed his own dagger and removed his eyepatch. Revealing his ruined eye. The scar, still looking red and fresh despite the years passed, covered half of his handsome face, the eyelids of his missing eye had been cut open, she noted, and instead of an eyeball, or a dark hole, a glowing sapphire was nestled in his orb.

She would have considered it bald, even beautiful, were it not for the murderous gaze on the remaining eye.

What possessed her to move she didn’t know, Visenya heard Luke stating that &lt;<they came as messengers, not warriors>>, and for as much as she loved her brother, it sounded too like a pathetic and fearful attempt at a quick escape. So maybe she acted because, despite the fact that Luke was trained with the sword and she wasn’t, she felt like he wouldn’t be able to cause harm to anyone. She quickly found herself inches from Aemond’s face. Her dagger pressed on the soft skin of his cheekbone, right under his good eye. Visenya was sure that, to protect her loved ones, she could turn into a cold killer. She was, after all, Daemon’s daughter.

Visenya willed herself to set her gaze on Aemond’s remaining eye, and banned all fears and all sense of doubts from her mind, &lt;<I may have sworn not to fight>> she whispered, which was a lie. She had sworn to behave, her mother not thinking she could ever pick up a blade and use it. How naive of her. <<But I will defend myself, and my brother>> her tone was cold and angry, and her words were underlined by the added pressure she put on the blade. Aemond didn’t move, his breath appeared calm, and even, yet he didn’t dare move a muscle. Not when she threatened to blind him forever, <<Balerion made no such promises, and if my wellbeing is threatened…>> she had no need to complete the sentence. For how terrifying and huge Vhagar was, the Black Dread was ten fold. And he craved the fight. Everyone knew that.

The words, or her tone, she couldn’t say, awakened her uncle from his trance. Visenya registered the hushed footsteps of Luke, taking the bait and leaving while Aemond was distracted, just like she had told him to. &lt;<Seems like your strong brother doesn’t share your courage, princess>> Aemond mocked when he noticed his missing nephew. They were so close now that she could feel his breath caressing her skin. He slowly allowed his hand to fall, and sheathed his dagger with a blatant gesture, to be sure that she could see it. After a long moment she decided to imitate him, and she didn’t miss the relieved huff that escaped Aemond’s lips. <<It is good to see that you can be made to see reason, uncle>> Visenya said not breaking the stare, and not moving a muscle, <<it would be a great inconvenience for me having to carry you around completely blind, should we truly become husband and wife>> he smiled, that sardonic, infuriating smile that she couldn’t understand the meaning of, he looked both furious and turned on. Visenya couldn’t decide what scared her the most.

&lt;<I am sure>> He said, his voice like velvet, never betraying any emotions, <<your offer comes with terms, niece>> Visenya took a moment to think. She hadn’t thought this through when she spoke the words in front of Borros Baratheon, she hadn’t thought Aemond might actually consider the scenario, and that is why he asked. Or maybe, he liked the idea of himself sitting on the Iron Throne in place of the brother she knew relentlessly bullied him in their youth, alongside her own brothers. Or maybe he understood that he wouldn’t win the Stormlands today, and was merely buying time.

&lt;<Your brother will bend the knee to the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms>> Visenya said in her most stern and cold tone, <<my mother is willing to welcome back her siblings, and Helaena’s children, back into her heart, for she is sure>> she decided to put emphasis into the words that Visenya heard her mother speak to the messenger she had sent to King’s Landing, <<that you have been misguided by the greed of one man. Any lord and knight who will swear fealty to their Queen will be pardoned. Our marriage will seal the deal, and in time, when I will ascend the throne, we shall rule together, like the Old king and his good Queen Alisanne>> She thought her demands would be met with a grin, or laughter. Either way she expected Aemond to dismiss them, just like Otto Hightower had dismissed any of her mother's terms on the bridge of Dragonstone.

Yet Aemond seemed to be considering it, &lt;<I swear that there shall not be any treachery, on my own blood, or on any gods you choose to believe in>> it felt like the right thing to say. She couldn't know whether her uncle was a pious man, but her mother obviously was, considering how she had redecorated the Red Keep, so maybe swearing her intentions to their gods they so much loved might make the offer a little more considerable. Still, Visenya made a mental note that all of those hideous godly decorations would be the first things to disappear once they took back her mother’s throne.

&lt;<I shall bring your terms to the king>> Visenya rolled her eyes, and decided to switch to High Valiryan so that they were the only ones who would understand, was Aemond truly so thick? What game was he playing? <<*I remember the way he treated you, and I’m sure you do as well. Do you really think he would hand you over the throne?*>> Aemond opened and closed his mouth. He didn’t know how to respond, or rather, he did but he didn’t wish to speak the words, no to her of all people. Her uncle’s silence showed that this was a weak spot, and finding that out emboldened her. so Visenya stepped even closer to him, and rested her hand on his muscular bicep, <<*It is us that are offering you absolute power, not your brother, not your grandsire, not you mother. Rhaenyra is, and I. Remember that when your family will refuse the terms we offered and chose war and death rather than seeing the more capable brother on the Iron Throne*>> Visenya knew she had hit a bare nerve when she noticed how strongly he was biting his lower lip. Aemond did want the throne, now she could see it, in the way the light in his eye changed, and in the way he was forcing himself not to speak. He thought himself better than Aegon, probably better than Rhaenyra too. He thought himself Jahaerys born again, probably. <<*That is why it is to you, that I was instructed to offer our terms, and no one else*>> A lie. But she couldn’t help herself from trying, not when Visenya knew he was truly beginning to consider the terms. She couldn’t let the opportunity slip.

Visenya at last removed her hand from his harm and offered it to him, he immediately took it  and kissed her knuckles. &lt;<Do not make me wait long for a response. Uncle>> She purred. He nodded, a quick, elegant gesture, and proceeded to leave the round hall of Storm’s End. When Aemond was far away enough, she let out the big breath she had held up until now. Apparently, they all survived.

The rain outside was pouring so strongly it was hard so anything past one’s nose, and the winds were so strong that on two occasions, on the short trek where her dragon was waiting, she thought it would send her tumbling on the muddy ground. 

How people chose to willingly live in such a place, was beyond her comprehension.

When she made it to where Balerion was waiting, a short walk that took twice, if not trice, as much time as it should have, she found the now familiar tall figure of Aemond standing still before him. She was about to shoot a snarky remark at him, when she realized the reason why he stood where he stood.

Balerion was blocking his way to Vhagar.

She was familiar with the old she-dragon: it had been her aunt’s for a long time. She remembered admiring them fly together in the skies above Dragonstone and Driftmark, she remembered standing nose up, somewhere on one of the two islands, and remaining absolutely speechless at how big Vhagar was, how huge, compared to all of the other dragons she had known.

Now, even in her vast, scary form, she looked almost tiny, in comparison to her black monster.

He was doing that on purpose, she could sense it. Balerion was not scared of Vhagar. In truth, he was not scared of anything, and how could he, when he was the largest living creature in the world? He could kill Aemond right then and there, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Even Vhagar would only be able to stand and watch. From the low rumbling that was coming from the she-dragon it was evident that she understood this as well, and she hated it.

&lt;<Tell you dragon to move, princess>> Said Aemond, when she got close enough for him to sense her presence.

She could let him do it, Visenya realized, she could let Balerion kill Aemond, and nothing would happen. The dragon was known for acting out of his own accord, no one has been able to bend his will ever since the death of the conqueror. That’s why it has been forbidden to try and bond to him ever since the death of his last rider, princess Aerea. So, no one would blame her if Balerion killed Aemond, who could testify that she gave the order?

&lt;<He rarely does what’s ordered to him>> She responded, still uncertain, <<unless i order him to kill. Then he grows obedient like a hound all of a sudden>> Visenya had never killed someone who had a name. She had been to stepstones recently, with her father and Lord Corlys, to crush the triarchy for the second, and hopefully final, time. She couldn’t avoid it, being the rider of the largest dragon in the world. Yet the men she had ordered to kill were nothing more than nameless ants, they were not her uncle, whom for good or worse she had known her whole life.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Balerion huffed, bored. Visenya decided to turn once last time towards her uncle, right before starting to climb atop Balerion, &lt;<the next time I see you, uncle, could be on our wedding day. Or on a battlefield. Either way, good luck on what’s to come>>.

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Chapter 1: The Pig

The Emerald Prince and his Sapphire Princess

Aemond Targaryen X  OC Lyssa Targaryen

Author’s Note: Sorry I said I would update this what feels like months ago (which it has been). I’ve finally reached a point where I’m actually story planning and not just winging it. LMK if this chapter is too long or short in the comments, I have a hard time with deciding chapter lengths. Thank you for reading! Taglist is also open and I can remove you if you don’t want my random updates.

Summary: Rhaenyra gives birth, afterwards the children gather within the dragon pit. Where Aemond and Lyssa are put in great danger from a prank.

Characters: Mentions of the historic reigns of both Maegor and Jaehaerys

Warnings/Tags: 18+ !!!! Minors DNI. Talks of potential suicide attempt, murder and shock of nearly being killed, description of injuries to people and animals, description of birth and pregnancy. (If I missed any large ones for this chapter)

Word Count: 5k +

Prologue - 1 - 2 

“Queen Elinor found Maegor upon his throne, slashed from wrist to elbow and a stray blade of the throne threw his neck between his chin and collar. Posed as if he’d fallen backwards, his face was pale and struck with agony much like his reign.” Viserys answered the plainness of the text he’d implored me to study the past fortnight, waiting for another Velaryon and Targaryen cousin from Rheanyra. She’d started aching the past few days, explaining I would understand someday as she wished her mother had been able to explain to her. I’d waited within the corridors when Jacaerys was born, with a nose large enough to fill the lungs of his thick body. With Lucerys I held him first after his own mother he cried loud enough to shatter windows, we were surrounded deftly after by Ser Laenor and Ser Harwin to look upon the child they’d swore to protect.

“Do you think he did it? Granted himself a coward's death?” I asked, watching one of the stone workers Eddard beside my uncle carving, aiding in an articulate depiction of a vision of Old Valyria. Eddard was lean and unspoken at least for a few chuckles and smiles as I studied under Viserys. He had a kind slim face with honey eyes and delicate pale skin that showed off the rugged muscles of his hands as he worked. While the Maester took gently to tending to the King’s back with hands woven in pungent smelling white linen. My own hands soft as they tumbled over the crinkled pages of my journal, caressing to somehow untap the potential behind my writings.

“Only the walls of the Red Keep know what occurred those few hours after Towers and Rosby left the King to his thoughts. Could have been the King Guard, sworn as his shield and first line of defense. Or the Black Brides, the family believed it was Queen Elinor torn in grief and rage of her late husband and malformed stillbirth from her less than tumultuous unhappy marriage.” 

“So he was cursed then, A Mad King. After an age of conquest, came the age of insanity.”

“As the texts I gave you lead you to believe, yes? However, above all he started as a mere man, raised in scorn of his mother’s boot to become the Kinslayer he will be known for until the next conquest. ‘Maegor The Cruel’-. Ouch, careful!”

“Apologies, My King. The Wounds are spreading-” Maester (name) held up his hands in surrender as if he’d burned the King.

“That is enough for today dear Maester, please stitch me so I may continue my nieces studies. Without your distraction.”

“Yes, My King. We will allow you respite until the evening. You will soon welcome a new grandchild into the world.”

“Rhaenyra’s still in her labors? Hasn’t it been nearly a day?”

“Labors Princess, vary for many unknown reasons. Typically the size of the child is the most affecting of them.”

“Then the Princess is giving birth to a boulder, is she?” The men of the room laughed in harmony of what would be my potential horror after my marriage bed. 

“Someday you will know the great burden child, now. Suppose, why do you think they say Targaryen’s are closer to gods than men?”

“The Gods granted us Dragons.” I answer quickly as if it weren’t the most obvious part of my own life. 

“Yes, and?”

“I don’t understand. Targaryen’s gained power and control of the Kingdoms by our dragons, no common man can claim a Dragon. We can touch the whipped clouds of the sky while a man falls from a tree to stay on muddied ground. The rooftops the highest they will be until the afterlife.”

“Hmm.” He shakes his head unceremoniously and furrows his brow in concentration, 

“Uncle, now that Maegor is dead. I will learn of my namesakes?”

“Yes, Queen Alysanne our Granddam, and Princess Alyssa, my mother. Within the reign of Jaehaerys I, who ruled for a peaceful 55 years. Even if you hadn’t shared my brother's face and strong pleasure to disagree with me. Your eyes showed you were a dragon, long before you knew of us.”

“Do you think that’s why Silverwing came to me that day on the mount?”

“I don’t have to think, she knew. I’m sure if Cousin Rhaenys hadn’t laid a strong claim and bond to Meleys, she would have come to you as well. The Queens know strength when the realm needs it the most.”

“Then Queen Elinor did it, she impaled Maegor upon the throne?”

“My King, Princess. The Princess Rhaenyra has given birth to a son-”

“My, what glorious news! Lyssa my robes, we must give him a Prince's worth welcome.”

“The Queen has requested them with her chamber.”

“Ah yes. My wife is quite superstitious within her new found faith. Come Lyssa, walk with me.”

“If Maegor hadn’t eaten or drank in days, pondering the likelihood he would die at the hand of his child nephew and sister-wife’s Dragon’s. Neither had any to lose or gain, except the promise of revenge. Of the lives she watched him take, the life he squeezed from her loins. It all ended in tragedy, regardless what he accomplished diplomacy was nothing only in architecture and word of mouth from his reputation.”

“That’s why Jaehaerys was so profound, his partnership.”

“The realm declared him King of the Small folk before he even began to usurp the throne to avenge his father.” 

“Yes, they were very loved by the Kingdoms. Not only did they define a great rule until Jaehaerys death, it lasted-”

“55 years, The Conciliator.”

“Yes, before I was found heir after my Father Baelor died. Passing over his granddaughter Princess Rhaenys, despite Alysanne’s wishes. What does a Conciliator do?”

“I-, I don’t know Uncle.”

“It’s a Peacemaker, they bring opposing forces together. Jaehaerys brought the realm together starting at just a boy of four and ten.”

“What will they call you?” I ask abruptly enough for Viserys to stop his steps in front of Alicents chamber door.

“They will call me what they call all men of families in strife, Viserys The Peacekeeper.” I smiled broadly at his double meaning, as I helped the serving boy open the door. He thanked me excessively and Viserys entered the chamber, his voice only half a jovial as his face. “What happy news this morning.”

“Indeed, your grace.” Laenor helps Rhaenyra sit upon a chair within the Queen's chamber. One I was fond of when visiting her before bed as she read to us children. That was when I first arrived at Kings Landing and none of Rhaenyra’s children ever invited. I pondered if it still occurred even as we were growing older. 

“Where is he? Where is my grandson?” Viserys asked as Laenor bowed, passing the babe from Rhaenyra, still damp in perspiration to Viserys holding him in his right and newly singular healthy arm. “There.” Joffery coos, as Viserys dotes on him turning and beckons me over with a nod. “There he is. Oh, a fine Prince. Sturdy. You will make a fearsome knight.“ At first sight the child is smaller than his brothers previous, but still lovely. With a full head of brown hair a strong grip on the Targaryen quilt.

“Yes, you will, dear little cousin.” I cooed as Viserys rocked him gently,

“Does the babe have a name yet?” Alicent asked as Viserys was in his own little bliss, meeting his third grandchild. A grateful thing when each passing day was harder than the next with his failing body, his mind was one thing he wished the gods to help him remain strong. 

“We haven’t spoken-”

“Joffrey.” Laenor interrupts Rhaenyra, “He’ll be called Joffrey.”

“That’s an unusual name for a Velaryon.” Alicent remarks to no one in particular, but when Rhaenyra's face flushes with either pain or anger. I knew someone has yet to comfort her on her achievement, another boy, a healthy boy and birth she’d lived through. 

“I believe he might grow into yet your grace, don’t you think?” I tell Viserys, brushing Joffrey’s wisps of dark hair on his soft crown drying with life’s blood.

“I do, I do believe he has his father’s nose. Don’t you?” Viserys turns to all of them talking to his grandchild to be within the crowd by Rhaenyra again, I brushed by Laenor’s curt nod to stand beside Rhaenyra’s chair.

“Yes, your grace. The blood of the Dragon and Sea runs deep.” Lyssa said squeezing Rhaenyrea's shoulder, her cheek came to rest upon it. Immediately relaxing with her cousin's calm presence.

“If you don’t mind, your graces, your daughter has exhorted herself heroically and should rest.” As Rhaenyra tries to stand without help, I offer my hand to which she grateful holds as Alicent swoops the babe away from Viserys. 

“Of course. There.” Viserys hands him to Alicent willingly and takes Rhaenyra’s free hand in his. 

"Well done, Princess. He is beautiful and so calm." I brush my thumb over the softness of her wrist as I trail my hand to grip her elbow. 

“I do hope the labor was easy.” Viserys whispers to his daughter, I turn for their own moment of privacy watching the careful way Alicent handles her grandchild when not of any blood of hers he came into this world. May he see at least the barest kindness from her now, as may he not come to realize how complicated Alicent truly is. I bless upon him in her arms,

“I think I called the midwife a cunt.” They both giggle, 

“Oh?” They kissed each other's cheek, lovingly "Lyssa, I believe our lessons are done for the day. As my family rests in triumph of a new member, so shall I. You may spend the remainder as you wish." I bow to Viserys in formality, turning to fully embrace Rhaenyra. 

“May I help you to your rooms?” I offered to Rhaenyra, as I held her tight.

“Yes, thank you Cousin." She sighed weakly into my hair, I graciously scooped Joffrey from Alicents arms. Ignoring her lasting comment to Laenor as I walked ahead of them both. To the Princess’s shared apartments with her immediate family. Unknown to most this was where Alysanne raised her children, Aemma wanted the same life and love shared in her children. Rheanyra kept to her same chambers since childhood, only filling the halls with her children rather than her mothers. Alicents children lived near the opposite in Maegor's holdfast, the Kingly apartments. Where I took my father’s chamber growing up, Viserys wouldn’t have it any other way. If Daemon wished to visit his brother he would stay in Viserys' childhood room, until then it remained empty. It had been some time since anyone visited the halls of my apartments, only a few servants and ratcatchers, besides myself. While the King and Queen had the highest apartments, their children close by across the garden, Rhaenyra had the second level same as the small council chambers. Mine were lower echoing of Maesters studying in the library. Viserys once said that his father Baelor chose these chambers to raise his sons so that they would have strong brains and patience. I supposed he may be rolling in the catacombs to see how differently his sons turned out to be. Another serving boy opened the door to Rhaenyras chamber as I approached, hearing the jovial clamber of the young boys within.  Met with the soft honey eyes of my other mentor in my fathers steed Ser Harwin Strong, his face softens with a nod as he sees the small babe cradled to my chest.

“Princess-” He starts to say until Laenor and Rhaenyra enter and he’s violently interrupted by Lucerys in his path.

“Mother.” Jacaerys gets up from his place on the carpeted floor,

“Mother, we chose an egg for the baby.” Luke bonds to his mother until Laenor catches him in succession to his excitement. Jace lifts the lid to the iron pot to show us all a black egg with shimmers of oranges similar to Syraxs. 

“Ahh. That looks like the perfect one.” She tells her children in a voice soft and supple as the Joffrey. Harwin offers his arm as she sits.

“I let Luke choose.”

“Thank you, Jace.”

“Well done, cousins.” I ruffled the hair on Luke’s head as I pass him. 

“Not everyday an egg leaves the Dragonpit, Princess. I thought it best to escort the lads.” Laenor comes to stand near my shoulder cradling the top of Joffery’s head, smoothing the furrow of his brow with the pad of his thumb as Joffery wiggles in my arms at the affection.

“Laenor and I thank you, Commander.”

“Another boy, I heard.” I smile at Ser Harwin, moving the blanket lower on Joffery’s chin so that he may see his face.

“What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?” Laenor laments,

“And scholar, we must make sure he knows the delights of the big bright world.” I whisper,

“Might I?” Harwin implores, eye finding the ground as if he is ashamed for asking,

“Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.” Rhaenyra commands Laenor and I to release the beautiful boy.  

“Of course.” Laenor drops his hand, smiling large. I step twice to Harwin he towers over me arm under arm he takes Joffrey. Harwin has never been anything less than graceful from his bruting frame and deep voice, a towering stature to match. He makes us all feel safe just being near, seeing such a powerful body cradle a child like spider silk is clumsy and endearing. 

“There.” I mutter wrapping the blanket from under my elbow.

“Joffrey, is it?”

“Mm-hmm,” Laenor answers as Rhaenyra and Harwin share a knowing glance. He appears sad but placid as if she had already discussed her distaste for the name. 

“I believe it means Peace amongst Strangers.”

“Father, please may I hold Joffrey.” Lucerys begs, pulling on his father’s arm. Pushing his way past Jace to Harwin.

“No, no. No.” Laenor tells him as he pulls both sons by their collars.

“Ah. ah, ah, ah, Ah!” Harwin pushes Lucerys hand gently away from Joffrey,

“Hey!” I push at his shoulders the doors opening for them, 

“Nope back to the Dragonpit with you two. Come on. Before they send out a search party!” Laenor bows before continuing with his children down the hall. Leaving the three of us together, I clear my throat suddenly lost for words.

“I shall accompany the children after the Ravenry, write to Father and Lady Laena of their newest nephew. ‘Tis a blessed day for you, Princess. Good Morrow Ser Harwin.” I bowed to my glowing cousin as she looked so softly upon Ser Harwin holding Joffrey.

“Yes, Princess Lyssa. I shall see you on the training ground.” Harwin bowed his head without breaking eye contact with the sleeping babe, only cooing when Joffrey moved slightly to adjust his small hand beneath the warmth of the blanket. 

“I look forward to it.” I smiled at them before turning stride and closing the door behind me. Raking my skirts into my fists as I raced to the Ravenry on the other side of the training yards, entirely across the keep. Entering to see a Maester feeding all of the assortment of birds used for lettering. Along with two others posted each to either send or collect them. Maester Paxton sits at a writing desk, he’s of middle age and the one who organizes most of the day time operations. 

“Princess Alysanne,” he greets me, all the others pause their duties greeting me with shallow bows before returning to their duties. “A great pleasure to see you on this fine day. How may we assist you, my lady.” I smile courtly, taking a needed breath from racing to the hall.

“I wish to send a letter to Prince Daemon in Pentos. Princess Rhaenyra has just given birth to a third son.”

“What a joyous day for the royal family, please sit and I may draft it for you myself.” Paxton walked around me to a simple small chair with withering red cushioning on the seat, ripping at the sewn seams of the mounting sides. I sit gently as a shiver runs down my back as a large gust of birds fly overhead.

“Actually if I may draft it myself Maester Paxton. That is why I came instead of my maid.” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in disbelief of my request.

“Of course, Princess.” He bows his head turning to find parchment and ink setting it on the desk before me. “Let me know if you need any more assistance.” I sigh heavily as he backs away, headed towards the cages to another apprentice or servant. Giving me a moment with my thoughts,

‘Dear Father, Laena and sisters,

I am very grateful to be the one to inform you that Rhea has given birth to a healthy baby boy. They have decided to name him Joffrey, the family wishes you safe travels from afar. Your absence is greatly felt by all of us, I hope to soon find you back at Driftmark for my siblings' arrival. I do hope Lady Laena that your birth does not last a day and then some close to Rhea’s. She misses you both as dearly as I, Laenor also speaks of you both often. Between Father and his battles within the Stepstone to the adventures of Laena and him as children, it is hard to imagine we are not reliving the events. King Viserys had just ended my studies of Maegor The Cruel, I am to learn of Jaehaerys The Conciliator next. Knowing partly from my own intrigue of Silverwings past yet excited to learn of our nearest grandsires. While I measure my wit with King Vieserys, Ser Harwin has allowed me to wield a sparring sword and not a wooden one since my last letter. It is truly heavier than I imagined, I can’t imagine riding or running into battle with a sword longer than my arm and heavier than baby Joffrey to defend. Yet I still tried, just as Bronze Tail had begun his rider training. He is nearly taller than Aegon, at this rate he will be bigger than a horse the next time we gather. Exceeding even Sunfyre’s size as I write to you. Do give my love to my sisters Baela and Rhaena, I miss them dearly. As I see how much Jace has grown, I fear to find I will hardly recognize them both when you return home. To whichever one of you read this now I miss you ever dearly, and though never to pray like the common men. I wish for your health and safety, perhaps the next letter we exchange will include the name of the next newest Targaryen inside. Born of a different land. 

Always of love, your daughter.

Alysanne Targaryen’

  I blow on the ink allowing it to dry before folding it carefully calling upon Paxton that I wish it to be sent.

“Do you wish me not to correct any mistakes you made, Princess?” I sneer at the jab at my wits for being a highborn lady, I am one of the only Targaryen’s who doesn’t order a Servant to deliver a message in my stead. Writing letters since Father and Laena ran away to Pentos to be together after Rhaenyra and Laenor married. Leaving me to stay as Viserys ward. There was more potential for me here, Father always wrote when I wished to visit him in Pentos. His brother needed me, with my Daemon’s daughter in the Capital if something were to happen to Daemon. I am his first heir, it makes complete sense. 

“No thank you Master Paxton, I believe the King has amended my penmanship in recent years.” I smile as his face turns white, realizing he not only insulted me but the King due to his older belief system of Woman not being as well educated as Maesters. Men who give their lives to science and study. Not very different from Septon’s and Septas, yet they only answer to a different Vassal. I walk out of the Ravenry, pride seeping from my posture as I make my path to the Dragon Pit. 

Standing between Aemond and Jace as Vermax is guided by chains up the stone steps to the small training ground directly above the caves of the Dragonpit. As Jace is pushed forward I creep forward next to the Dragon Master.

“Let him come” He tells the wranglers, Aegon yawns obnoxiously from behind us. His bond with Sunfyre was immediate after her hatching from the cradle. The rest of us weren’t so lucky. Helaena claimed Dreamfyre after years of waiting, Luke and Jace struggled and fought for their dragons control which started unruly rumors of their heritage along with their brash muddy appearances in comparison to the rest of us. My egg hatched in Kings Landing after I claimed Silverwing nearly a decade after coming to my rightful home. While dear Aemond’s egg never hatched, still hidden deep within a trunk at the end of his bed. He hadn’t been able to claim another dragon, only coming to the pit to observe and obsess over something he might never have. 

“Call Vermax to heel, Prince Jacaerys.” The translator and second Dragon Keeper tells Jace, her face is dirtied by kind as she nods to the younger.

“Serve!” Jace commands the youngling, he stretches to full height before growling in our direction Jace steps back into the Dragon Master. “Halt!” This time Vermax holds eye contact and heeds his Rider. Sitting back on his haunches,

“Sȳrī “

“Well done.” I echo for Jace, while he’s distracted with pride. Vermax hears his meal bleating from the grapplers. A Sheep tied by its neck to a stone slab across the grounds.

“Vermax, Vermax!” Jace calls as his Dragon stalks the sheep, 

“Halt!” The Master commands, the entire room follows. He continues to teach Jacaerys.

“You must hold mastery over your dragon, my young Prince’s. As Prince Aegon has with Sunfyre. As Princess Alysanne’s claim of Silverwing.” The Keeper translated, 

I look over my shoulder to my kin: Luke is restless shifting his weight from each foot, Aegon glows with resented smugness as this is his escape from maternal overbear, and then to Aemond whose hands are cradled in front of himself as he picks his nails bloody. He sighs longly picking up his eye from their place on the ground as if he felt my searching for him. I give him a curt smile as the lesson continues. 

“Once they’ve fully bond to you they will refuse to take instruction from any other.” Jace nods in understanding before smiling tastelessly at the Master.

“Can I say it?” He eagerly wondered, the master hummed in agreement. As Jace turned around to the other boys I pushed his shoulder to attention.

“Don’t be crude.” I led him, holding his shoulder until he relaxed under my grasp. I heard a singular breathless chuckle from behind. Sounded almost as if it were an accident and watched tentatively as Jace calls for his Dragon’s Fire. The very same which all of us share between our veins, the tether of all of Targaryens souls. 

“Dracarys, Vermax!” Vermax is released behind wooden dowels approaching the sheep before collecting a breath in a screech and releasing the flames from his gullet. Taking the life of the sheep as it screams in agony of its death, Vermax feasts life gives life. It makes it no less horrible to watch, to my rescue the female Dragon Keeper pulls me aside.

“Skorkydoso emagon se jēdrar treated ao, dārilaros?” The boys hear as I’m whisked away. ‘How have the skies treated you, Princess?’

“Aemond, we have a surprise for you.” Aegon tells his brother leading him away

“What is it?” Aemond answers incredulously

“Something very special.” Lucerys says as he runs past me to the opening gates of the pit.

“You’re the only one of us without a dragon.” Aegon points out

“Indeed.” 

“Even the baby has an egg and Lyssa commands two. We felt badly about it, so we found one for you.” Aegon taunts with a guiding hand

“A dragon. How?”

“The gods provide.” Aegon snickers, I only hear laughter as they become too out far to hear any longer.

“Silverwing is lovely, I miss her dearly when we're apart. Do you think she would allow another to accompany me?”

“What do you mean Princess Alysanne?”

“Well she did fly all the way to the wall once, and my own grandmother carried her children on Meleys before her death. Do you think Silverwing or Bronze Tail, when he’s strong enough, will allow another rider to mount with me?”

“Is there a reason you ask me this?” I turn my head in the direct of the Princes noticing immediately the one I’m looking for is missing. I walk towards them, the two Kingsguard still against the far walls of the pit.

“I wish I could replay his face over again.” Luke comments, watching Vermax

“A grand touch with the hand crafted wings, nephews.” Aegon commends Luke with a punch to his arm.

“Aegon, where’s Aemond?”

“Upon, the Pink Dread!” Luke laughs before Jace shushes him,

“I don’t know, perhaps learning new riding techniques now that pigs can fly.” Aegon has to bite his lip to stifle a laugh.

“I beg your pardon?” 

“We got him a pig, dressed as a Dragon. He must have left-” A screech and shove of the caves under us shook the ground we all stood on.

“That sounded of the sisters, again.” The Master spoke in High Valarian, Dreamfyre and Silverwing despite being of the same clutch could greatly despise each other. A great black pit filled my belly with sickness as it happened again. I rushed for the steps of the caves, running for Silverwings nest. Yelling for him as grapplers were hot on my heels,

“Aemond?-” I screamed running around a corner seeing him on his back as Dreamfyre gave him a warning breath. The heat around us tells me this is not the first. “Aemond!” I covered him as he grasped onto my skirts for purchase. 

“Halt, Dreamfyre! Obey!” I commanded her in her fury, as she readied another blast I slumped to my knees holding Aemond in fear. Only we were not met with fire, only the sounds of heavy boots and chains on the cavern floor. As Silverwing pushed her sister from the stone opening, standing guard over us both. Aemond shivered as we were brought to our feet, he clung to my sleeve as second longer as he was fussed over by the Kingsguard. Who arrived after every other worker of the Dragon Pit, my heart pounded in my ears. Silverwing purred from her spot blocking her sister, wing unfurled and awaiting instruction.

“Are you alright Princess?” The grapplers asked,

“Take him to her grace, I shall deal with the others.” I instructed brushing off the weary looks of those around us both. Walking back the way I came, I turn on my heel to face them again. “No more Dragons today, see Dreamfyre and Silverwing are separated with large snacks. Bring me Bronze Tail, once you are finished.” 

I spend the rest of the afternoon bonding with Bronze Tail in the open area of the Dragon Pit, until a Kingsguard interrupts and informs me that the King has requested my presence. Bronze Tail is led back by chains around his neck as a Kings guard breathes down mine. As if I didn’t know where the Kings chamber may be. When I arrive the Guards part away from the door to allow me entry into Viserys chamber. He smiles so hard, I can see each one of his teeth clearly as his eyes squint.

“Lyssa my dear, come sit with me by the fire before my wife joins us.”

“Of course, your grace.” I curtsey, following his gaze to a lounge bench with decorative cushions along it. Sitting with my feet tucked under me, I grab a quilt to drape along my dress. The bottom is dirty with soot, mud while some of the hem is torn from racing to Aemond within the caves. I also became very aware of my smell, Dragon. They smell of meat, dirty creatures who sunbathe just to end up rolling in the damp grass. Scratching their back along the cavern walls wet with moisture of the ground. Then an upkeep of warmth from the heat they possess, their bodies and their fire collecting it all. It’s currently stuck to my every being.

“Leave us.” Viserys orders the guards, each of them exiting as he adjusts painfully in his chair. “I suspect by your appearance you stayed at the Dragon Pit after this afternoon's accident?” I nod shamefully, smoothing my hair off my face. Only to Viserys amusement I smear dirt along my forehead from Bronze Tails chains.

“I would have bathed before coming here so you wouldn’t be victim to my state but-”

“It’s alright Lyssa, it is just us.” Viserys says in our family ‘s ancient tongue. I breath a sigh of relief when he immediately speaks again.

“To be truthful, I miss the smell of Dragon. It was before Rhaenyra when I last rode mine. Never claiming another after Balerion, it is comforting.” We sat in peaceful silence as he rose from his chair, gathering behind his dressing screen. Water runs and he returns with a linen, I hold out my hands and instead of giving me the cloth he takes each hand in his. Wiping them each clean, raising my sleeves slight red rims where Aemond had gripped my forearm tightly. Crescent indents, and a purpling bruise shielded by the loose fabric. He brushes each mark with his thumb before tipping my chin up and wiping my forehead.

“Thank you, your grace.”

“Uncle.” His smile is contagious, as he says it. 

“Thank you, Uncle.” He tosses the cloth on a nearby table before sitting across from me again. Sighing deeply as he watches the warm hearth, drying my wet hands craving the warmth of anothers again.

“Aemond was brought to Alicent earlier today, claiming he was gifted a pig dressed as a Dragon. Yes?”

“Yes, I did not see the pig until after Aemond had been retrieved from the Dragon Caves.”

“Right, and what happened my dear?”

“I was speaking away from the boys as Vermax was held by a sheep, when seeing Aemond's absence there was a rumble below. Dreamfyre and Silverwing have been known to quarrel yet there was snarling and the Kingsguard were still present. If Aemond had left one would have been with him-” I told Viserys hastily,

“Breathe, Lyssa. He is fine now.”

“Yes, I ran around to Dreamfyre’s entrance to see him cowarded on the ground. Dreamfyre was about to fire her second warning blast when Silverwing interrupted, knocking her away from us. Then the others came, I captured the pig. He’s within the royal pens.”

“Why do you have the pig?” Viserys inquired

“There was no reason to keep him tied within the lower levels.”

“Lyssa, the truth.”

“I- I wanted to feed him to Silverwing the next time we have a lesson. Defending Aemond while implementing only a slight fear within the others. Jacerys was the one who told me of the prank. Aegon dismissed his brother's absence.” Something catches in my throat as I speak, I look down to my hands. My mind spinning with many emotions: the fear, anger and denial of what had transpired. 

“I give you permission. After all, not only did you save Aemond but you cleared a few inner turmoil's for myself.” I grimace, at the terror if I had been too late. What if Silverwing hadn’t interrupted? He must have noticed, “The Queen believes our children may do no wrong, yet it is hard to punish children for being children. Instead you may show Aemond that the pig is as fragile as the joke the others showed him. Especially since my grandchildren and their youngers. I trust you, the eldest next to Aegon-”

“Uncle…” I interrupted as tears flooded my eyes, I wipe them as soon as they threaten to shield my vision completely, “Aemond could have died. We could have died. To Dragon Fire no less. I'm afraid a show of my Dragon’s power isn’t justice. I had I not noticed Aemond’s absence, had I not been there-”

“Dear Lyssa, do not be so cruel to yourself. You did well. I know the guilt you and Jaecerys carry is as large and profound as your hearts. Everyone is safe now.” The door opens to Criston Cole announcing the Queen's presence, Aemond with his hair wild and face just as dirty as mine was previously entering the room.

“Your Grace, Prince Aemond.” I rise to my feet, accidentally dropping the blanket covering my unseemly appearance. 

“Princess, why your dress. It’s ruined!” She moves around Viserys chair gripping my arms with intensity. I whimper as she makes contact with my forearm, her eyes go wide pulling up my sleeve as Viserys did with less kindness but more motherly intention. 

“It’s just a scratch.”

“We’ll ensure the Maester gives you ointment so you do not scar.” She smooths the hair off my shoulders before wiping her hand on the cloth on the table next to me, effectively releasing me. Aemond’s soft eyes heat my cheeks as he doesn’t break contact with my standing form.

“Thank you. If I may, I came directly from the pit. I wish to wash before dinner.”

“I believe we are all to dine within our own chambers tonight due to today’s events. Lest exhaustion get the better of us.” She stands behind Viserys rubbing his shoulders lightly as she speaks motioning Aemond to could further into the room. I know my invitation to dine with the ‘greens’ is only extended when Viserys demands Alicent be cordial. She has a large heart and would do the worst for her children, yet I am Daemon’s child. An offspring of the Prince who dismisses her family’s importance and acknowledges their conniving nature. 

“Well then, if I may be excused.” I curtesy to each of them after Viserys agrees, finally meeting Aemond’s eyes. He looks exhausted, my heart aches as it begs to give him more comfort. Yet affection within this confusing large family dynamic amongst other deeds is frowned upon because of its rarity. I keep my distance walking past him within the large chamber, breathing a deep sigh of relief as I approach the halls of my lonesome apartments. 

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Taglist: @stargaryenx​ , @bellameshipper  , @supmymainhuman , @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @nitimurinvetitumsposts​ , @50svibes​ 

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[thavampress]

A Court of Flame

Aemond Targaryen x OC!femTargaryen

The Dance of Dragons has finally met its bitter end, and left Saesha Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, without her entire family.

In a last ditch effort to put the war to bed for good and unite a broken realm, the victorious Greens seal a marriage pact between the last survivor of the Blacks, and the notorious second son, Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: violence, smut, language (all the good stuff), incest (duh, but I’m not gonna remind you every five seconds.)

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Chapter One

~Saesha~

Saesha Targaryen opted to arrive in King’s Landing on dragonback, rather than by ship. She’d been ushered from her home on Dragonstone and forced into a marriage with the same enemies who saw to the death of her entire family. She would arrive as a true Targaryen, lest they forget she was of Fire and Blood too.

She had claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, who ironically was the only dragon to challenge Vhagar in size. She wondered if her betrothed would feel threatened by this. She doubted it.

The sight of the Red Keep emerging from the heavy fog pulled her from her thoughts. The Black Water was covered with blanket of mist as Vermithor coasted quietly over the bay. She would not be landing at the Dragonpit. Instead, Saesha brought Vermithor down in the upper courtyard of the Keep. As the enormous dragon cut through the fog, she heard shouts from the soldiers manning the walls.

Vermithor roared as he landed, and as Saesha dropped from his back she looked around to see armed soldiers forming a circle around her and her mount. Saesha scoffed, as if a single word wouldn’t have every one of them in ashes.

She held up her arms in mock surrender. “Is there no one named Targaryen here to greet me?” She called out to the soldiers, “Or at the very least a Hightower.”

The soldiers seemed to relax slightly, some of them looking to others for some sort of queue. She had been expected after all, only they were prepared to meet her at the harbor two days from now.

Finally, Otto Hightower emerged from the ranks. He was unmistakable for Saesha, and the hand pin on his lapel only confirmed it.

“Princess,” he called to her, a mocking smile on his lips, “welcome to King’s Landing. We had not expected you yet… nor on dragonback.”

“Apologies, my Lord Hand,” Saesha replied, bowing comedically deep. “I wished to not be parted from my dragon, and I so despise traveling by sea.”

The Hand only bowed, extending an arm toward the Keep, indicating her to follow. Saesha did as she was bid and was lead through the Keep and to her appointed chambers. The room was mostly bare, save the canopy bed to her left and some other furniture here and there.

A tapestry might be nice, she thought, staring at the blank stone walls.

A knock sounded at the heavy double doors, and Saesha beckoned them to enter. A servant appeared, bowing before her. “Princess,” the servant greeted, “the Queen Mother wishes to see you, once you are settled.”

Straight into the fire, she thought with a rueful grin.

“No need to settle,” she told the servant. All of her things were to follow by ship in a few days anyway. “We will go now.”

She followed the boy through the cavernous corridors, making note of his nervous and quick steps. When she finally reached another set of ornately carved double doors, she realized they were not at the Queen Mother’s chambers. She’d been in the Red Keep only a year ago, with her mother. That felt like a decade now, but no so long that she didn’t recognize where they were.

The soldiers posted outside leaned in and pulled the doors open, revealing the small council chamber. Alicent Hightower sat at the head of the table. To her right was Otto Hightower, and to her left a man Saesha didn’t recognize. She saw all of them only for a fleeting moment, because beside Otto sat a tall, silver-haired man adorned with an leather eyepatch that could only be Aemond Targaryen.

They stared hard at each other. Aemond’s gaze gave nothing away. Saesha tried her very best to keep her own face completely neutral.

“Princess Saesha,” Alicent smiled, breaking the tension and her gaze from Aemond. “I am pleased you have made it to us safely.”

She smiled, bowing politely. If her mother taught her anything, it was that being in King’s Landing meant playing the game. She didn’t intend on losing.

“I must apologize for not sending word of my early arrival,” Saesha said politely. “My decision to arrive on dragonback was… a spontaneous one.”

Aemond Targaryen laughed through his nose. Her wild, violet eyes snapped back to him at the sound. They watched each other for just a moment.

“Your apology is unnecessary,” Alicent assured, a lingering gaze cast on her son. “I myself must apologize for calling you here so soon after your arrival. I was just so eager to reacquaint and make certain you had all that you needed.”

To make your measure of me, Saesha thought, to see what the war has made me.

Saesha nodded, “My things are to arrive with the boats from Dragonstone. Until then I think I can make do.”

She bowed again and turned to take her leave, but stopped. She turned to face the council again, this time addressing Aemond alone. “My prince, I hoped you would escort me to the training yard with you in the morning. My father taught me how to use a sword and I’d like to practice.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, and had an intrigued look in his eye. “Of course, princess. If it please you.”

She grinned, “Why it indeed would please me.”

Aemond faltered, only slightly, but she saw it. “Now, if I may excuse myself, I’m very tired. I will you see you on the morrow, my prince.” With that, she turned and exited the chamber without another word from anyone.

~Aemond~

The council chamber was quiet after she left. Until Aemond’s grandsire cleared his throat, “Well, she certainly has Rhaenyra’s spirit.”

His mother only looked sad. Aemond was thinking.

She was not quite so different from when he had last seen her, only she seemed more bold now. Nothing to lose, he thought.

Aemond excused himself from the chamber and started down the hall. He wasn’t sure where he was going, just somewhere else. His footsteps echoed as he marched, blazing around a corner to come colliding into someone.

Her.

“My apologies,” she said quickly, taking a step back.

“The fault is mine,” he replied. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Saesha smiled. Every time she smiled there was something wicked in it. It drew him to her. “Neither was I,” she said quietly.

Aemond did not know what to say to her. He did not really know her. “Excuse me, princess,” he said formally as he stepped out of her way, “I will get you from your chambers early tomorrow. I do not hope too early for you.”

She smiled that glinting smile again. “I will be waiting for you.”

He watched her walk down the hall until she slipped around another corner. She was quite beautiful, more so than before. A year ago, Saesha Targaryen had been soft, still a girl surrounded by her family. Now she was alone, and harder than before.

He was surprised at her willingness to spend time with him. After all it was his act that sparked the bloodshed ending in her family’s ruin. He murdered her little brother. Even if it was an accident, she’d never believe him. He was suspicious of her and massively intrigued by her at the same time.

He went to bed wondering.

Aemond found himself waking up earlier than he usually did the next morning. The sky was still dark when he dressed. He made sure his eyepatch was secure before sitting by the hearth, a book in his lap. He read by candlelight until the sky turned pale with first light.

He closed the book and started down the corridor toward Saesha’s chambers. Aemond had no idea how this little sparring session would go. He couldn’t tell if she was playing some elaborate trick on him. She seems clever enough to do so, he thought.

Finally he was at her door, knocking firmly on the carved surface. It opened immediately, and suddenly Aemond was face to face with her. Saesha was in all black, matching him. She was in the council chamber as well. Her silver hair was braided back elaborately in true Targaryen fashion. She was every ounce a Valyrian of Old, unlike her bastard half-brothers.

“Good morning, my prince,” she said, unmoving.

He stared down at her, a low hum in his chest. “Shall we, princess?”

They walked silently down to the training yard. Strangely, Aemond felt at ease in this silence. She kept in stride with him easily, despite being significantly shorter.

Ser Criston Cole was already in the yard, setting out the sparring swords. “Prince Aemond,” he greeted, smiling. Ser Criston saw Saesha behind him then, and cocked his head. “Princess Saesha,” he addressed her with much less warmth, “I did not expect you here to spectate today.”

Saesha grinned, “Not to worry, Ser, I am not here to spectate.”

She stepped forward, picking up one of the sparring blades.

“I must protest, princess,” Ser Criston began, “I cannot spar with a princess, Gods forbid I harm her.”

“I am grateful I can put you at ease once again then,” Saesha circled them both, finally landing in front of Aemond, “I will not be sparring you, but Prince Aemond.”

She pointed the sword at Aemond, a taunting smirk on her lips. “Come along, my prince. Do not lose your fire now.” Her taunting smirk was gone, and suddenly there was a serious look on her face. Her violet eyes burned.

Aemond took up a sparring sword. He leveled it at her, then raised his chin, beckoning her to begin. She stepped forward quickly, throwing a jab at him to the right. He deflected it easily. Saesha stepped back briefly before advancing again, slashing, quite predictably, to his left. Aemond swatted the hit away again, smirking.

“Do not be discouraged, princess,” Aemond said, taunting, “I have spent many hours in this yard, and I’ve fought a war.”

Saesha grinned, the fire still bright in her eyes. She was at him again in a flash, bringing her sword up across his leather tunic. If the sword had an edge, a thin line would’ve cut diagonally across his abdomen.

As Aemond found his guard again, Saesha ducked under his arm and summoned a dagger he never knew she had, holding its point to the back of his rib cage. This blade most certainly had an edge to it.

“Do not forget, princeling,” she whispered harshly, “it was my war too.”

Saesha sheathed the dagger back at her hip through a convenient hole in her skirts. Aemond watched her do it. He clenched his jaw, suddenly feeling angry. Bested by her.

She left the yard after that, and Aemond found he didn’t feel like training much anymore. He retreated instead to the library, finding it dark and quiet and full of other lands to escape to.

The war had hurt Aemond. It left him scarred and hollow. There were still those who muttered kinslayer. The blood on his hands rarely bothered him. Why should it? He thought, What choice did I have?

For some reason it bothered him today. It was her. Saesha Targaryen who he’d silently admired, curious and drawn to her fire. They were both blood of the dragon, he could tell. The same side of the coin.

Aemond didn’t grieve the number of men he killed, he knew she wouldn’t either. He knew she could kill, she showed him today.

It didn’t matter.

What he did grieve today, was the fact the he had murdered Lucerys Velaryon. He hadn’t meant to do it, in perfect and plain truth. But somehow having a hand in the collapse of Saesha’s family felt… dark.

It was my war too, her words echoed to him. Aemond wondered how many men she’d killed, burned on the field of battle. Had she ever cut someone down, the way she pretended to with him?

The door to the library squeaked open. Aemond watched with his remaining eye, his mother crossing the room to sit across the table he had seated himself at. Alicent reached over the book laid open in front of him, clasping his hand in her own.

“The wedding is in two weeks,” she said after a long silence.

Aemond only nodded. It didn’t really matter to him when the wedding was. He had known he was to marry Saesha for what felt like a long time now.

“I heard your morning did go over so smoothly,” said Alicent.

Aemond scoffed, “Apparently my wife will not be needing very much of my protection.”

Alicent had the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I hope that you will find some semblance of happiness together.”

Aemond sighed, “I do not think she will accept me. Not after Lucerys.”

It felt strange to him to say his name. The name of the ghost who had haunted him for so long.

“I am sorry for what you had to do for this family,” Alicent replied. She looked tired.

“I am not,” Aemond stated. “We are alive.”

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (III)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 2613

CW: Mentions of death, violence

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

A/N sorry i haven't posted in a while I've been ill and busy will college, hope you enjoy, I don't really like how this chapter turned out, but next chapter their will be a little time skip

Two months following her and Aemonds betrothal, grief struck Kings Landing.

First was the death of the Strongs, ser Harwin and lord Lynol. Then came the news of her Aunt Leana’s death.

They had travelled to Driftmark for Leana’s funeral, a morbid affair she did not wish to attend, especially after receiving all those nasty looks from her Veleryon kin. Her father had been lost to the world of grief, the death of his sister taking over, and his days spent wallowing in the sea. Her mother was better, though isolated. Focusing all her attention on the new babe.

She, as always, stood beside Aemond, few things had changed between them since their courtship began, Aemonds possessive nature towards her had come out tenfold. Though the general rules of courtship dictated they remain an ‘appropriate distance’ from one another and must always remain accompanied (a fact her septa had constantly reminded her), they instead broke every rule, acting as if they were already wed, they even shared a bed every night (which Aemond insisted had to remain secret), Aemond claiming it was then ‘practising for married life’. Though Aemma was not too sure what the fuss was about. People had begun to treat her like a grown woman, even her mother, acting as if she were not a child who had yet to reach her tenth name day.

She had decided grown-up life seemed incredibly dull, even her lessons changed, now focusing on new responsibilities, such as sewing and running a household.

She hated the whole thing, hated that her lessons with Aemond were now few and far between.

Her brothers had too changed since her betrothal, namely Jace. Though it was more recent, (mainly due to the strong departure and death, why that seemed to greatly affect Jace’s behaviour she was not sure) He had insisted on being her and Aemonds chaperone, though they usually managed to escape him, he would follow them around, breaking them apart whenever they did something ‘improper’, she had begun to refer to him as septa Jace, though not out loud, she even began to think allowing her septa to chaperone them may be better than his company.

Aemond himself didn’t seem to care, he had never liked Jace and seemed to act up more in his presence, becoming more possessive of her, even manhandling her (not that she knew what that was). If she was anyone else perhaps, she would have been worried over his possessive nature, But she did not, she loved it. In truth, there was nothing wrong with it as far as she was aware.

Her mother had been the same. So protective and controlling of her life that it felt right.

With Aemond though it never felt like he was controlling her, she felt it was normal, he would protect her from the mean words and looks from others (not that she knew they were even happening), and he would even take her out of septa lessons were she was being taught ‘nonsense’, an action both her mother and Aemond partook in.

Aemond was a constant presence that she could rely on, he was the one by her side as she heard the news of each of the deaths. He had instantly sought her out after the news of Ser Harwin, she may not have been as close as Jace and Luke were to him, but he had always been there with a kind smile and open arms for her. As for her aunt, she had never met Laena, but her father always told her stories of her, she had wanted to, and now she never would.

Aemond gripped her hand tightly as she sniffed her tears.

“We have nothing in common!” Aegon whined next to them.

She had decided to stand with Aemond and Helena, having had enough of the stares she received from the Velaryons as she stood beside her mothers and brothers. Heleana was on one side, crotched in the dirt playing with some new insect she had discovered, and on the other stood Aegon, already deep in his cups.

“she’s our sister” Aemond reminded, following their betrothal her grandfather saw fit to preserve the Valyrian bloodline once more and betrothed Heleana and Aegon.

“You marry her then!”

“He is to marry me, uncle” Aemma replied, naively, moving to crotch near Heleana “Perhaps he should have betrothed Heleana and Jacaerys, Helena would be a good queen!”

Aemond and Aegon shared a look.

“She is to be your wife, brother, show her some respect”  he replied, choosing to ignore her words. He moved to pull Aemma back up from the ground “You’ll muddy your dress”.

“Heleana already has, what does it matter if I do!” she replied, kneeling, and looking at Helena’s newest bug, “what is that?” she asked, but instead of an answer, she was met with Heleana muttering about a hand and spools of black and green.

“Aemma” she heard her mother call her, pulling her away from the ground and Aemond.

“Mother? What is it?” she asked,

“it is time to bed sweet girl,” her mother spoke, caressing her face.

“But it’s early!” she whined, Aemond would not wish to go to bed yet, she was sure to not find any sleep.

“just go.” Her mother sighed.

Aemma was woken to the sounds of shouts coming from the great hall. The whole family had gathered in the dead of night, the hall was silent when she reached it, her mother comforting her brothers, receiving Alicent’s disapproving stare.

The Hall was split in two, the whole of Driftmark in attendance. On one side stood her mother, brothers, cousins and Veleryon grandparents, on the other her grandsire, Alicent, Heleana and Aegon. Someone was sitting in a chair facing away from them all, maesters surrounding them.

“Muña?” she questioned confused as to what was going on “What happened? Where’s Aemond?”

“Oh, my sweet girl” her mother ran, pulling her to her and her brothers.

“What happened? Where’s Ae-“She was cut off, a sob leaving her mouth as his head popped around the chair. His eye gashed out and his face was swollen.

“Aemond!” she gasped, moving from her mother’s grip, “what happened?” she cried, reaching for his face.

He hissed, pulling back, “They attacked me!” he shouted pointing to her brothers and cousins.

“What! Why?” she sobbed, burying her face in his chest, “why? Why would they do that to you?”

“He attacked Baela” she heard Jace shout back.

“He broke Luke’s nose!”

“He stole my mother’s dragon!”

“ENOUGH!” her grandsire demanded; his anger apparent.

“He was going to kill Jace!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Aemond insisted, pulling Aemma’s face closer into his chest, finding solace in her presence.

“ENOUGH!” her grandsire demanded once again.

“It should be my son telling the tale” Alicent insisted, moving her hand to rub Aemma’s back.

Her grandsire hit his cane to the floor, demanding silence, “Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened, now!”

“What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed…Her son is responsible”.

“It was a regrettable accident” her mother spoke.

“How was taking his eye an accident?” Aemma questioned, moving her head back to look at her mother, “what could he have possibly done to deserve his eye being taken?” she questioned, glaring at Luke as he shrunk back behind their mother.

Alicent nodded her head, agreeing with Aemma, “The prince Lucerys brought a blade to an ambush. He meant to kill my son!” she insisted, causing Aemma to gasp and continue her teary glare at her brothers.

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves… Vile insults were levied against them” her mother declared.

“What insults?”

Her mother hesitated “The legitimacy of my…son’s birth was put loudly to the question”.

“What?”

Speaking up, Luke said “he called us bastards!” sending her a pleading gaze, trying to prove his innocence, but Aemma only saw his guilt, he took her Aemonds eye, and whatever Aemond did she doubted had cause for his eye to be taken.

Looking at Aemond, she whispered “What’s a bastard?” with confusion written on her face, Aemond only shook his head, guilt shimmering in his eye.

“My sons are in line to inherit the iron throne, your grace. This is the highest of treasons…. Prince Aemond must be Sharpley questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders”.

“He just lost his eye, and you want to… to interrogate him, over an…” Aemma lead off, confusion clear in her tone, but Alicent continued for her.

“Over and insult? My son has lost an eye!”

Her grandsire moved towards Aemond, Aemma was ushered off Aemonds lap, moving to stand near Heleana. “You tell me, boy, where did you hear this lie?” her grandsire demanded.

Alicent was quick to respond, coming to Aemonds defence, (perhaps even her own) “This insult was training yard bluster, it was nothing”. But her grandsire paid no attention to her, only moving to question Aemond again.

where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The children’s father? Perhaps he might have something to say on the matter.”

“Yes, where is Ser Laenor?”

“he’s at the beach” Aemma interrupted, “ he has not left the sea since we arrived,” she looked around the room, her move gaining some sense of confidence from Aemma’s interruption.

“yes, he nor I could find sleep, we took a walk on the beach, where Laenor chose to remain” Her mother nodded, a smug smile gracing her face as Alicent kissed her teeth.

Her grandsire spoke, stopping Alicent from changing the subject once again “Aemond, look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”

Aemond shifted his gaze to his mother, “It was Aegon” he answered, moving his gaze to his brother.

“Me?” Aegon asked confused, she had never heard him say it before, then again until today, she had never heard the word at all. And seeing how uncomfortable the word made everyone, it made sense for Aegon, he seemed to thrive on the discomfort of others.

“And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies?” her grandsire spat “Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!”

“We know, father. Everyone knows. Just look at them” Aegon sighed, eyes turning to her brothers, Aemma herself was pulled back to Aemond, who hid her from everyone’s gaze.

“This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it.” Her grandsire demanded.

“That is insufficient. Aemond has been damaged, permanently, ‘Good will’ cannot make Aemond whole” Alicent demanded.

“I know Alicent, but I cannot restore an eye,“ a deep sigh left her grandsire.

“No, because it’s been taken!” 

“What would you have me do?”

“There is a debt to be paid. I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return” Alicent declared, gasps filling the hall.

“My dear wife-”

Her eyes watered, her son, their sons’ eye had been taken and he does not seem to care “he is your son, Viserys. Your blood”

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment”

“If the king will not seek justice, the queen will. Ser Criston… Bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Alicent ordered.

Luke let out a nervous shout for his mother, moving to hide behind her. 

“he can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son” Alicent spoke, Ser Criston stared down at her, unsure of what to do.

Turing to Ser Cole, her grandsire demanded “You will do no such thing… Stay your hand”.

“No, you are sworn to me!” she shouted at Ser Criston, as he stood unsurely “As your protector, my queen.”

“This matter is finished, do you understand?” her grandsire spoke to Alicent, moving away before declaring “And let it be known, anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s children should have it removed!”

“Thank you, Father” her mother spoke, relief clear in her tone. But Alicent was enraged and moved towards grabbing the dagger from her grandsire and moved to charge at her mother and Luke.

Shouts filled the hall, trying to get Alicent to stop, but she continued.

“you’ve gone too far” her mother spoke, grabbing Alicent’s arm, preventing the dagger from diving into Luke’s eye.

“i? What have I done but what expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, and the law. While you flout all to do as you, please” Alicent spat in reply. “Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? And now you take my son's eye, and to that event, you feel entitled”.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness” her mother replied, seeing Alicent face drop and her grip on the blade began to loosen. “But now they see you as you truly are,” she said lowly, the dagger slipped from Alicent’s hand, down her mother’s arm, blood dripping to the ground.

“This proceeding is at an end”

Aemma had not left Aemonds side since that night. She took over from the maesters, changing Aemonds bandage, and applying the ointment. She refused to let others near him, to leave him. Even when her mother tried to carry her out of the room herself, she would scream and protest. She only left once her mother came and told them they were leaving.

“I will not” she shook her head, ripped her arm from her mothers “I will not leave him, you can not make me!” she screamed.

“dōna riña” her mother begged, “please, my sweet girl, for me and your brothers they miss you, you will see in in a few years when you are to wed.” her mother sneered the last part, the maids had whispered about how her mother had pleaded with her grandsire to end the engagement, but only a fool would think she herself would let anyone but Aemond be her husband.

“I do not care! Alicent has said I can stay in Kings Landing, in my home, Mother please!” she begged “I cannot leave my Aemond, especially after what they did, stay Muña, please”.

“I cannot, sweet girl, it is for the best” her mother continued.

“For whom? For you? Mayhaps, but for me it will be nothing but pure torture, I will scream if you make me go, I will bring you nothing but hell if you take me there, take me away from MY AEMOND!” She shouted, streams streaming down her face.

She noticed the man then, he had silver hair like her mother’s family, she remembered who he was then, Aemond had mentioned him, their uncle Daemon, rider of Caraxes. He stood against the wall, his lip quirked and laughter leaving his lips, “leave her, let the Hightower cunts have her” he spoke up.

“Do not-“ her mother began, a sigh leaving her lips. She looked at Aemma, defeat filling her features, “Please, sweet girl, please”

“I won’t, I can’t leave him, Muña”.

Her mother sighed “ok, but if you ever, and I mean if for a second, a minute second, wish to come to Dragonstone, come. You are my daughter, my dōna riña, and you always will be my favourite girl” tears filled her mother’s eyes.

“of course, Muña, I love you” she whispered the last part, looking down “I’m sorry, I’ll miss you”.

“I love you too, I’ll miss you, sweet girl, I’ll visit whenever you ask” her mother promised.

Though that would soon become a lie, as Aemma would not see her mother for years to come.

next part

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

My lady strong: @aemondssiut @idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyya @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aelora-a @aleemendoza2425-blog @chittakii @gghoulzz @ryiana @duckworthbean @cynic-spirit @may-machin @Gianinaa19

Hotd: @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

[sapphire-writes]

Winter Rose

pairing: Aemond x Stark!Reader

summary: Raised among wolves, and raised among dragons; throughout time Targaryens and Starks seem to find their way to each other.

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 2.3k

note: this is mostly fluff! enjoy my loves 💙

You had been a small child when your father died; when your elder brother Cregan was named Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North. Though he was just a boy of three and ten at the time. You remembered the funeral of your father, the way Cregan held your small hand in his own.

“You need to be brave, sister,” Cregan had whispered in your ear. 

Your eyes were wide as saucers, gazing upon the still body of your father. You expected his chest to rise and fall, as though he were simply in a deep sleep. He remained motionless. You had only seen one other corpse in your life, that of your mother.

The image of her flashes in your mind. Beautiful, wild, and gone. Petals in the wind. Your father would lay beside her for eternity in the crypts of Winterfell. The thought comforted you, your parents in the earth below you, and your brother. Simply sleeping beneath the mighty fortress of Winterfell.

Cregan squeezes your hand. 

Your uncle, Bennard Stark, was to rule as regent until Cregan came of age. A feat that does not bode well when Cregan reaches adulthood. But Bennard succeeds nonetheless. 

You grow alongside your brother, both of you fierce, both of you spitting images of the First Men. Both are haunted by the ghosts of wolves before you. You and Cregan are one and the same until you come into your maidenhood.

That is when things seem to change between you, suddenly you are thrust into the role of a soon-to-be mother, though still unwed. Lords vie for your hand, present themselves to your brother for the chance to bed, and breed you like a prize mare. You are having none of that. 

“Lord Umber is a fine choice!” Cregan yells, running after you as you flee from the great hall.

“You heathen!” you snap at your brother.

You stop, causing Cregan to nearly run into you, glaring at your brother. 

“You’d ship me off to Last Hearth, is that it?” you accuse, “who’d do your booking then hmm?”

Cregan flushes with embarrassment. 

“I’d make do without you,” he says.

“You’re shit at bookkeeping,” you accuse. 

“You’re a lady, it’s your duty-”

“My duty!” you scoff, “How very convenient to you!”

Cregan frowns, visibly frustrated by your angry disposition.

“You like Lord Umber.”

You look at him incredulously. 

“He is my friend, Cregan, it does not mean I wish to bed him.”

“Sister, you must listen!”

But you are off already, across the yard, angry tears wet on your face. They do not last long as you hastily wipe them, crystalized in the cold air they fly like diamonds to the gravel below. 

The news comes to Winterfell when House Stark is invited to the capital to represent the North at King Viserys nameday. Evidently, all the great houses are to feast in the capital, with tourneys and celebrations to last for several days. 

“Allow me to represent our house, and when I return I shall not fuss about marrying Lord Umber,” you tell him, bile rising in your throat as you panic at the thought.

Cregan senses your hesitation. Brothers are like that, sensing your lies. 

“You shall?” he asks.

You roll your eyes. 

“I shall.”

The journey to King’s Landing is long and tiresome, taking the better part of a month. Layers of clothing are shed the closer you get to the capital, as the air around you warms, snow melts and flowers bloom. It is as though you are blooming as well, pushing through the soil and towards the sun.

You are presented at court, as unwed ladies often are, to the king and the royal family. Though King Viserys is not in attendance, represented by the Hand instead. 

The first of the festivities you attend is a tourney. 

“You do not wish to participate, my prince?” you ask, out of courtesy.

“I do not care for tourneys, my lady,” the one-eyed prince tells you, “I believe them to be a foolish waste of time.”

You smile slightly at his honesty.

“They are said to prepare men for the battlefield,” you tell him, “though I do not know whose enemy would wait for his opponent to pick up his sword.”

Aemond glances at you as you take a sip from your cup. He glances at the tourney field, understanding your jest as he observes two knights waiting to fight. A flicker of a smile appears on his chiseled face.

“Most knights simply wish for the attention of those of court,” Aemonn tells you, “Fame and glory; to be a page in a song.”

“To have the favor of a pretty girl,” you agree.

Aemond looks at you once more. A pretty girl. You meet his eye, smiling. Aemond looks away quickly, clearing his throat.

“Have any of these knights won your favor, my lady?” Aemond asks.

You shake your head.

“No, I am afraid not,” you tell him, “I prefer a real warrior to a pretender.”

Aemond watches as you excuse yourself and walk away, a curious expression on his face. 

The feast later that evening is boisterous and full of merriment and delight. It makes you miss home, an ache appears in your chest that you cannot shake. No matter how many lords you dance with, how many ladies you chat with. Though you wished for an escape, you so miss the walls of Winterfell. Cregan’s hand in yours. Perhaps he is right. Perhaps the North is where you belong. Winterfell, Last Hearth. Did it matter which castle, truly?

“My lady,” the voice of Prince Aemond pulls you gently from your thoughts.

He is kind, you can tell. Though his exterior is cold, reptilian almost. Like the snakes that slither in the greenhouses of Winterfell, searching for warmth and life in the frozen ground. Simply trying to survive. Aemond bows to you, offering his hand, violet eye scanning your face. 

You want to ask him about it. But you bite his tongue. You know all too well how people enjoy poking the bruises of others, teasing out the memories of pain a person holds inside them simply for their own selfish curiosity. You shall not be like them.

You take his hand and allow him to lead you to the dance floor. You cling to the young prince for the rest of the evening, finding calm in his cool presence. It is nice, standing beside him feeling as though there is no silence you need to fill. Feeling as though he simply enjoys that you are there. 

When you return to your chambers, a blue winter rose rests its petals on your pillow. You pick up the flower, inspecting it carefully between your fingers, the cerulean petals catching the moonlight. A reminder of home.

The remainder of your visit to the capital is spent on Prince Aemond’s arm. In the library, on walks through the gardens. He even entertains your passion for hawking, joining you as you travel into the Kingswood. It is nice to have a friend among so many dragons. Someone to talk to, someone who enjoys your company. 

As the days pass, you have collected a bouquet of winter roses; they sit beside your bed in a glass vase, the first flower only just beginning to lose its petals. They scatter across your chambers like freshly fallen snow. 

A raven arrives, confirming your brother’s visit to the capital. Cregan is often impatient and comes to the conclusion that he must join his sweet sister in the capital, bringing Lord Umber with him. A determined pup, your elder brother can be. 

Aemond senses a shift within you as you wait in anticipation, though he cannot quite figure out what the cause is. When your brother arrives, you avoid his presentation at court entirely. Though Cregan is relentless, and spots you as you attempt to escape to the gardens. In your haste, you nearly run into Aemond. You clasp his arm.

“Quickly,” you say nervously, shifting on your feet, “I must go, quickly.”

“It is your brother,” Aemond says, looking over your shoulder, “why do you wish to run from him? Have you not missed him this time apart?”

Aemond knows you have been missing him, missing home. It is why he took such care with the flowers left in your chambers. He had enlisted Helaena for help; winter roses are fickle plants that require delicate care outside of the North. 

“Of course I have,” you tell him, trying but failing to hide behind his tall frame.

Aemond smiles slightly as you grab his arm. Cregan has spotted you, a determined grin on his face. Lord Umber has joined him on his journey to King’s Landing. He has brought the wedding to you. There’s nowhere to run anymore.

“Then why do you hide little wolf?” Aemond asks, chuckling.

“He wishes to marry me off,” you tell the prince, “ship me off to Last Hearth.”

Aemond’s face falls slightly, he glances over his shoulder as your brother comes closer with each passing second. Aemond turns back to you, eye scanning the distressed expression on your face. 

You bring your gaze back to the prince, an idea coming to you. 

“My prince,” you say suddenly, “do you trust me?”

Aemond frowns, not fully understanding what you are asking.

“Of course my lady-”

“Then kiss me.”

Aemond’s jaw slacks as he looks into your eyes. 

“Quickly, please,” you beg, “Aemond.”

His eye flickers from your lips to your eyes.

“Trust me,” you say softly.

The one-eyed dragon prince needs no more convincing. He bows his head to your height, and you stand on the tips of your toes, hand caressing the back of his neck bringing his lips to yours. Aemond is gentle with the kiss, as though he has never kissed someone before. He nearly pulls away after the first peck, but you secure your hand on his neck, opening your mouth against his, deepening the kiss.

Something comes alive in Aemond as you slip your tongue into his mouth. Fire curls in his belly, desire lodges at the base of his spine, and his cock strains against his trousers as your nails scrape his scalp. 

You pull away when the sound of someone clearing their throat pulls you from the prince’s trance. Lips reddened by the hasty kisses, Aemond’s violet eye is wide as it meets yours.

“Sister,” Cregan says awkwardly, “It is good-”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Stark,” Aemond interrupts, nodding to the young wolf.

“Your grace,” Cregan says, bowing slightly.

“Delightful to be surrounded by kin,” Aemond tells him.

“Kin? I do not understand,” Cregan tells him.

“My betrothed has missed her brother for too long now,” Aemond clarifies, much to Cregan’s and your surprise. 

“Betrothed?” Cregan asks, looking between you two. 

“Yes,” you tell him, sliding next to Aemond, pressing your body against him, “Prince Aemond has asked for my hand. And I have accepted.”

Cregan’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly.

“Without informing me?” he asks.

“We wished to surprise you,” Aemond says softly, “your sister was so excited by your arrival, she wanted to tell you in person.”

You nod eagerly as Aemond speaks, and Cregan raises an eyebrow at you in question. You smile widely, showing too many teeth. A she-wolf, daring him to question you aloud. 

“Tis true, brother,” you tell him, “Who am I to deny a dragon prince?”

“I suppose if you did not want to, you would not,” Cregan says, sighing, “A stubborn woman, my sister is.”

“One of the many reasons she is so charming,” Aemond agrees, his words causing your heart to flutter inside your chest.

Warmth pools in your belly as the prince smiles down at you. Cregan raises an eyebrow, nodding in approval. 

“I dare ask, what else has entrapped your attention, my prince?” Cregan asks, “It is my understanding the Queen wished for you to take a wife for some time now, to no avail.”

Aemond nods.

“Your sister is a rare find, much like a winter rose south of the Wall,” Aemond begins. 

Your heart leaps in your throat. Though you had expected it, now it is confirmed. It was he who left you the flowers. He who took such care with them. 

“However, did you do it?” you ask, eyes wide. 

Aemond smiles at you knowingly. 

“Precious flowers take time to bloom, they require special care,” he tells you, “but they are well worth it.”

You flush at his words, believing he means more than just the flowers. 

“A marriage must be treated with such care as well,” you agree, lacing your fingers through his. 

Aemond’s hand is rough from training with the sword, but your hand fits perfectly in his. The warmth of his palm settles the flurry of nerves in your stomach. 

“Are you prepared to give this union such care?” Cregan asks, his voice hardening, “This is my sister you are marrying, and she deserves nothing but the best.”

Aemond smiles, looking down at your intertwined hands. His thumb rubs against the back of your palm. 

“I would gift her the world if I could,” he admits, “I promise you, I shall spend the rest of my days devoted to making her happy.”

Your eyes well with tears and your heart swells with pride at his words. You tug him closer to you, taking his other hand in yours.

“You must excuse us brother,” you tell Cregan, “though I have missed you, I require a moment with my betrothed.”

You lead Aemond away from Cregan, away from the curious eyes of court, until you are in a secluded area of the castle.

“Where are we going?” Aemond asks, a smile playing on his lips.

You tug him closer once more until you are pressed up against him.

“I wish to kiss my betrothed unwatched,” you giggle, bringing his mouth to yours once more. 

This time, you do not stop.

______________________________________________________________

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[bvidzsoo]

Pure-blooded (Part 2)

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warnings: the use of the word ‘bastard’, nothing else so far

 Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x oc

 Word count: 8997

 Summary:   A story about a girl called Vaella Velaryon, who after more than six years, returns to King's Landing due to her brother, Luke, being questioned about his right as heir of Driftmark, and she meets Aemond. A changed man. A vicious man who is set to have his revenge, unknowing that Vaella would do anything for her family.

 A/N:  well, well, well...I outdid myself on this one, this part wasn’t supposed to exist, but my bestie asked me to write of the siblings bonding time so uhm- this part happened. Next part will have some violence, so get ready for that, and also I will only post it next week because this week will be busy for me. If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! I hope you enjoy this part and don’t be shy, share your thoughts with me, I love reading them! Happy reading now!

 Taglist: @depressedperson88 

↳Previous Part

           The siblings had made a ruckus in the kitchen of the Red Keep as Vaella and Luke ran around, clumsily each grabbing a bowl to fill with the snacks they stole. Jace remained in the doorway, holding the door open for his siblings, as they avoided crashing into anyone and tried to escape the chef’s angry hands trying to grab at them. Vaella was laughing loudly as a servant tried to grab at her, but she swiftly ducked and slid towards the door, shouting at Jace to open it wider as Luke came running behind her with a scared expression as he was being chased by a very angry chef, who was holding their butcher knife. Once the siblings were out in the hallway, their blood cursing with adrenaline, they glanced at each other before running for the dragon pit to mount their dragons with all the snack they had. They were loud as they dodged everyone in their way, not even bothering to apologize when they ran into a lady and almost made her topple over. They didn’t care about the judgmental looks from those who recognized who the they were, their only goal was to get to their dragons before their parents would be alerted of their mischievous deeds. Back at Dragonstone, the servants and chefs, stopped saying anything to their parents after a while as they realized the children only did this to break free from their crushing roles and earn a little freedom over their actions. Of course, Vaella was the one who initiated this little tradition of theirs, and as Jace and Luke were really young when she convinced them to join her, they absolutely loved the idea, and begged their sister from then on to steal snacks and ride their dragons to the island twice every week.

They arrived to the dragon pit quite quickly as they were running, weaving through the people with laughter escaping their lips. There, they tried to catch their breaths before searching for their dragons. A big grin broke out onto Vaella’s lips when she spotted Silverwing and she rushed up to him, petting its scales around his neck. Her dragon let out a low grumble of appreciation and allowed Vaella to mount him. She secured the bowl between herself and the edge of the saddle and instructed Silverwing to walk outside and then take its flight. The take-off was always a bit shaky and harsh for the two of them, but after a while, Vaella got used to it and learned to brace herself tightly against her dragon’s saddle. She almost flew off once, a long time ago, when she was just a little girl. As her dragon rose towards the white clouds, Vaella looked down and admired the people and constructions getting smaller and smaller. When she arrived to King’s Landing she didn’t have the opportunity to admire the landscape as she was full of fury and was only concentrating on landing as fast as possible at the Red Keep. But now, she allowed herself to relax on Silverwing as she straightened her back and gazed around her, waiting for her brothers to show up. And soon, one by one, Luke on Arrax and Jace on Vermax, they appeared on Vaella’s sides, keeping a safe distance between their respective dragons. Vaella grinned and waved at her brothers, who did the same, and motioned for them to follow her. She had the route to the meadow engraved in her memory and couldn’t wait to get there. She had missed it. Silverwing rose higher up in the sky, letting out a loud screech as he realized too which way they were going. Vaella smiled and patted the dragon’s scales, muttering to him ‘Sȳz valonqar’ (good boy). Her brothers were hot on her tail, and she heard laughter from behind as Luke’s dragon playfully flew over and then underneath Jace’s, playing with Vermax in the air. Jace laughed as well, but kept Vermax focused on following Silverwing as he promised his dragon that he could play with Arrax once they have landed. Silverwing suddenly changed direction and started plunging towards the earth, the wind hitting Vaella’s face harshly, but she was used to it. Silverwing enjoyed plunging towards the earth when he had to land, despite scaring his rider to death more than once before. Vaella hated it at first, and realized her dragon was only doing it because he could feel her fear through their bond, and so kept on doing it, until they both became used to it and started genuinely enjoying it. Arrax and Vermax followed Silverwing closely, however, they were careful in their descend as Jace and Luke watched their sister horrified, never having seen Silverwing do this before. They thought he had gone mad, that is, until, he suddenly opened his wings and started graciously floating towards the earth. Luke cradled his own bowl close to his chest as Arrax let out a shriek, landing first in the meadow. Its tail brought a few trees down, making the earth rumble, as Silverwing and Vermax followed suit in landing, but somewhere where there were no trees. Vaella started laughing as she watched her brother approach them with an embarrassed expression, and Jace wasted no time in starting to tease him.

“Look at you!” He exclaimed, jumping off his dragon and running up to Luke, “Eager to land first, eh? That is what happens when you get greedy—”

“I was not being greedy.” Luke snapped, and shot Jace a glare when his big brother tried to ruffle his hair, “And help Vaella down, her hands are full.”

Vaella chuckled as her brothers turned to look at her, making Jace take off towards her, to take the bowl full of snacks from her hands. Vaella carefully got off from her dragon, who helped her with its wings.

“Nyke jāhor ivestragī ao klios tolī īlon tegon rȳ se mele lua.” (I will let you fish after we land at the Red Keep.) Vaella whispered to her dragon before turning to smile at her brothers, “The meadow is all ours!”

The two boys cheered as they started running around, the tall grass reaching their knees in some areas. Vaella watched them with a small smile on her lips as she let her hands run along the grass, feeling finally content and at ease. Being back at King’s Landing brought back many pleasant and unpleasant memories. She didn’t feel safe here. She was exposed to the family who wanted her head and her mother’s, and because of this, she had to be on high alert all the time. She was used to this as she is a soldier, but even they get tired after a while. It was mentally draining to her, and all she wished for was for the trial to be over, with Luke’s heritage being reinforced, and her returning to Dragonstone before flying off to Pentos. She hadn’t been home in over a moon, which felt like an eternity to her. She wished to spend some time with her mother, possibly be there for her when she’d give birth to her baby sister.

“Did you seriously not grab even one bar of chocolate, Luke?!” Vaella was brought out of her thoughts by Jace’s loud voice. The two brothers had plopped down onto the ground where the grass didn’t reach their knees, with hopes that it wouldn’t poke their eyes out.

“I wasn’t really looking at what I was taking, Jace—have you seen the chef chasing me with a butcher knife?!” Luke exclaimed outraged, making Vaella chuckle as she sat herself on the ground, looking at her two brothers with amusement on her face.

“I managed to grab some—” Vaella’s lips curled up in amusement as she leaned forward her own bowl, trying not to laugh, “peas. That can be a very healthy snack—”

Jace’s loud groan cut Vaella off and she rolled her eyes, grabbing a pea and throwing it at her ungrateful brother, “Luke is right, we didn’t have the opportunity to look at what we were taking, really. Those people were chasing us as if we were some animals.”

Luke started nodding with a pointed look at Jace as he started munching on some biscuits. They still managed to grab some good snacks, which weren’t peas, and Jace sighed, finally settling on a banana. Vaella had grabbed it by accident while aiming to take the chocolate bar, but the servant yelling at her had distracted her.

“Tell me, brother…” Vaella trailed off with a mischievous look on her face as she eased her hand inside the pocket of her pants, “Were you craving some chocolate?”

Jace’s face lit up as he forgot about the banana he was munching on and nodded his head eagerly, “Well then…have some.”

Vaella pulled her hand out of her pocket, holding two bars of chocolate. Her brothers eyes lit up as they both leaned forward, grabbing the chocolate from Vaella, as if their lives depended on it. She laughed quietly, shaking her head at them, as she grabbed Jace’s half eaten banana and took a bite of it.

“These are from Pentos?!” Luke exclaimed excited as he undid the wrapping of his chocolate. Vaella nodded her head and Jace gave her a big smile before devouring his chocolate, looking as if he had just eaten the best meal of his life.

“I had no idea you two loved chocolate so much.” Vaella scoffed as she looked at Luke, who had a little chocolate in the corner of his mouth, making Jace snicker at him.

“The chocolate you bring from Pentos is always tastier than the one the chefs make at Dragonstone.” Jace said as a matter of fact, and Vaella shook her head, glancing back at her dragon as he let out a loud sigh. Her dragon had curled up and laid on the ground, resting, as his eyes found its riders. Vaella smiled at him before looking around, seeing that Arrax and Vermax had fallen asleep, despite being in a playful mood while they flew over here. She wasn’t surprised that even their dragons felt tranquil in this little meadow. She had once fallen asleep, and if it wasn’t for the rain, she probably would’ve spent the night here, scaring her mother and father, Laenor, to death. Viserys would catch her flying away on her dragon more than once, and each time he inquired where she went, Vaella would just give him a cheeky smile before telling him that it was a secret and maybe one day she would show it to him. Now, knowing that he was sick and nearing the end of his life, she wished she could take the King here, offer him a little peace and freedom. Free from the claws of those monsters, the Hightowers.

“Sister,” Jace lightly touched her knee to get Vaella’s attention, “will you tell us of your time spent at Pentos—”

“Did you partake in another tourney?” Luke cut off his brother, eyes wide as he leaned forward. Vaella grinned at her brothers before leaning back, resting on the cold ground. She let her hands touch the grass, taking in the energies nature had to offer to her. It was so pleasant.

“Unfortunately, Luke, I could not partake in a tourney once again. They had caught onto my shenanigans, I’m afraid.” Vaella answered her brother with a chuckle, making the boy pout. Out of curiosity and boredom, Vaella would disguise herself as a man and take part in the tourneys organized in Pentos. She had skills, she was an excellent swordsman and she could ride a horse almost as well as her dragon. She would lie of her true nature, make up a name of a lord who lived in a small province close to Pentos, and thus charm all the ladies and anger all the lords and knights partaking in the event. There were times when she’d win and there were times when she’d lose. But each time she’d have ladies swooning over her by the end of the day, forcing her to reveal her true nature. The shock on their faces once she took her wig off was always amusing and it brought a sense of satisfaction to her. Rhaenyra was informed of her daughter’s questionable deeds as one of her knight’s was at Pentos during one of the tourney’s, and she couldn’t help but receive the news with laughter and a shake of her head, unsurprised of her daughter’s antics. After all, she was a younger copy of her late husband, Daemon, and she didn’t have much control over what her daughter did or didn’t while staying at Pentos. Rhaenyra trusted her that she wouldn’t do anything too stupid, thus, she wrote back to the knight, asking him to let her daughter be. Many lords egos and dignities’ had been hurt when Vaella disclosed her true self, starting small altercations, in which she gladly partook, knowing very well that no man had succeeded in defeating her. Well, besides her father, Daemon, who had taught her all of his knowledge. She had to yet defeat him; Daemon was waiting for that faithful day as well.

“Then did you partake in any adventures?” Jace asked eagerly, grabbing some peanut from Luke’s bowl. Luke and Jace were a bit disappointed that their sister had nothing funny to share connected to tourneys, they always looked forward to hearing about her tricks.

“I’m afraid not, brother,” Vaella smiled, closing her eyes as she stared up at the light blue sky, “My time spent at Pentos was rather tranquil and mild, compared to how I would usually spend my time there.”

Jace and Luke sighed in disappointment, sharing a glance, before following their sister and laying down onto the grass. Jace was a bit fidgety at first, scared of ants crawling onto him, but Luke found himself enjoying such mundane activity. He loved going to their secret little island, hearing the waves crash against the shore as he stared up at the blue clouds, but this meadow was a nice change. The quiet around them was surprisingly relaxing and he couldn’t help but relinquish in all the wild flowers around them and their scents as the breeze carried it to their noses. Luke could see himself coming here often if they were to live at the Red Keep. But he knew that would not happen anytime soon. And even if it did, that meant that his grandsire would be dead, and his mother would be Queen. He wanted that, he really did, but it made him so nervous when he realized he’d have to live here, with his uncles and their family. He knew the bad blood would never end between the two families, and it only brought a sour taste into his mouth, as he remembered the hearing would be tomorrow. Just a fool would believe the Hightowers would take their side. Luke knew, for certain, that his right as heir of Driftmark would be reneged tomorrow. He felt sad, perhaps he should’ve felt more outraged and angry, but he knew he wouldn’t be a great leader of the fleet. He tried to be brave and stand up to Ser Vaemond’s accusations, but after all, he was just a scared boy.

“I miss Ser Harwin Strong.” Luke found himself suddenly saying, lips in a tight line, as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. Jace and him weren’t stupid, they knew who their true father was. They never dared saying it out loud, because it would just prove what everyone else was accusing them of. They loved Laenor Velaryon, but Ser Harwin had done more for them, than their alleged father had. They couldn’t help it but miss Ser Harwin from time to time. Luke’s words made Jace tense up and he glanced at his younger brother, debating whether he should kick his foot or crack a joke and deviate from the subject, but Vaella beat him to it.

“I miss him too sometimes.” Vaella admitted out loud with a quiet sigh, opening her eyes to gaze at the white clouds. The sky was so beautiful today. Despite Ser Harwin not being Vaella’s father, he played an important role in her life. He protected her and kept her away from harm as a little girl and even taught her a little combat, fearing that she would have to protect herself if he weren’t to be around. As the years passed and she grew, her fondness for Ser Harwin only solidified as she saw how ferociously loyal he was to her mother and how good care he took of her brothers, and herself. On days when they had to stay inside the castle, Ser Harwin would play hide and seek with them, and sometimes, when it was late in the night and she couldn’t sleep, she would go to him and ask him to play dress up with her. Ser Harwin was quite surprised at Vaella’s request, but once agreeing to play with her, he was surprised of how much they found themselves laughing as Vaella tried to force Ser Harwin into a few of her mother’s clothes. Of course, Princess Rhaenyra started to catch on when her dresses in the morning would be misplaced or even torn in places, so she decided to follow her daughter and Ser Harwin one evening, only to find them laughing as Rhaenyra’s delicate dress only fit over Ser Harwin’s armored leg. She watched the two people with love in her eyes before turning around and returning to her chamber, content that her daughter and secret lover were so fond of each other, cradling her baby bump, as Jace was close to being born. Rhaenyra knew then and there, that Ser Harwin Strong will make a fine father.

Jace cleared his throat as he sat up, looking at his siblings with a frown. He didn’t wish to speak of Ser Harwin, finding it hard to speak of his dead father. He didn’t hold any resentment against him, but he wished Prince Laenor was his true father, then so many conflicts could’ve been avoided, “I saw uncle Aegon today, before I went to find Luke to head to the courtyard…”

Jace’s voice was loud as he trailed off and Luke winced, glancing at his brother, “Was he as cruel as Prince…Aemond?” He found it difficult saying his uncle’s name after today. He couldn’t lie, Aemond frightened him.

“I would not know,” Jace shrugged and tore a red wild flower off, “I only saw him from a distance, but apart from his obvious growth, he didn’t seem like he had changed much.”

“Why? Was he carrying a jug of wine?” Vaella mocked, as Luke started giggling before he sat up too, stretching his arms over his head. He was craving some grapes and was glad when he saw some in his sister’s bowl. Jace shook his head with an amused grin before tearing off another wild flower, a yellow one this time.

“Ye, he was holding something, ‘though I did not see what.” His answer made his siblings chuckle as they shook their heads. Apparently, Aemond was the only who had changed, and maybe Haelena, but they didn’t have the chance of meeting her yet.

“So,” Luke muttered, chewing his grapes, “Aegon seems not to have changed, but Aemond—” He shuddered as he said his uncle’s name, making Jace’s face instantly darken. He knew Prince Aemond represented a threat to them, his mere presence frightening.

“Uncle Aemond had always been a scared little boy, who would not stand up for himself, and just because his physique has changed, you shouldn’t let yourselves be intimidated by him, brothers.” Vaella’s tone was hard, and her brothers glanced at each other unsurely, before looking back at their sister.

“Yes, but—” Jace had gulped as his eyebrows furrowed, “you have seen him, Vaella. He’s—he’s looking—”

“Vicious.” Luke cut his brother’s words off, “And vile. And he hates us, sister, had you not seen the way he was looking at us? I do not think we should provoke him or anger him—”

“Oh, please,” Vaella has had enough of her brothers whining as she sat up, glaring at them, “Aemond is nothing but a man with a harsh exterior who still goes running to his mother, crying about the people who dared wrong him.”

Jace didn’t want to argue with his sister that her words weren’t quite accurate, and so, felt hesitant about speaking up. It was very obvious that Aemond had changed and wasn’t what he once was. Luke glanced at Jace with uncertainty before daring to open his mouth, “Princess Vaella, I think…I think you should be careful. Around uncle Aemond, I mean, I think, and Jace does too, that it’s best if you just…keep your head down while we stay at the Red Keep.”

Vaella scoffed and looked away from her brothers, shaking her head at them. Nobody could convince her that Aemond was the vicious man he seemed to be. When they were children, and before Alicent could get to her sons with her vile words, her and Aemond would stay in the library and read together fairytales of far-away lands. Each time they would finish the bedtime story, Aemond would sigh and whisper to Vaella that once they grew up they could go and live in a castle on a mountainside with their dragons, if his had finally hatched too. Vaella scoffed at the memory, flashes of a tall and dangerous looking Aemond invading her thoughts. He was different, she could tell, but she refused to acknowledge it just yet.

“Say what you want to say, brothers, you are free to speak your minds, but I shall never bow down to the Hightowers, no matter who tries to make me—” Vaella’s words were cut off as a dragon’s loud screech alerted them, making the siblings dragons stand up and look up towards the sky as if they sensed danger. Vaella, Jace, and Luke were on their feet, bowls abandoned as they rushed to their dragons, holding them and keeping them still. Vaella held the side of her dragon’s face as she looked up into the sky, gulping when she spotted the enormous dragon flying above them. It was Vhagar. And if Vhagar was here, so was Prince Aemond. Jace and Luke realizing the same looked at Vaella alarmed, unknowing what would be right to do.

“īlon umbagon syt zirȳla naejot henujagon.” (We wait for him to leave.) Vaella spoke up with authority, as her eyes remained glued to her uncle’s dragon, “Pār īlon return.” (Then we return.)

           And that is how they proceeded. They waited for their uncle to be gone before mounting their own dragons to fly back to the Red Keep. Not wanting to ruin the lovely time they spent at the meadow, they continued to joke on the fly back and decided to race each other, curious to see who’s dragon would get faster to the dragon pit. Arrax was a fast dragon, so it wasn’t a big surprise as Luke beat his siblings to it and Jace had a feeling Vaella just let them win as he arrived as second on Vermax. And Jace was right, Vaella’s mood had been ruined the second they started talking about Prince Aemond, but she tried to hide it as she suggested them racing. However, Silverwing sensed her tenseness and took it easy, floating above the clouds and offering her a sense of calmness before they would land. Vaella instructed her brothers to wear the hoods of their cloaks as night was slowly falling, and she didn’t want any incidents as they had to weave through the people of King’s Landing before getting to the Red Keep. Vaella had her hood up as well, and despite wanting to blend in, it was only bringing attention to them. She wore her burgundy cloak for a reason, but sometimes it did not offer her the camouflage she needed. As they neared the entrance, two guards stepped forward and denied them access, that is until Vaella took off her hood, revealing her platinum blonde hair. The guards bowed their heads and wordlessly opened the gates for the siblings, Jace and Luke lowering their hoods as well as they waltzed inside the courtyard, lords and ladies glancing at them as everyone was headed inside the castle, the cold breeze of the evening drawing people inside their warm chambers. Jace and Luke were snickering about something behind Vaella, not paying attention to her nor towards the stairs, where their step-father, Daemon, was standing with his hands resting on his sword, legs crossed and head lowered as he watched Rhaenyra’s children approaching him.

“Father.” Vaella abruptly stopped, having held eye contact with Daemon the second they entered, making her brothers run into her back. Jace groaned and was about to inquire Vaella why she’d stop, but Luke nudged his shoulder with a panicked expression. Jace looked ahead and instantly tensed, watching an unamused Daemon slowly approaching them.

“Princess Vaella, Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys.” Daemon drew out the names of the children standing in front of him, backs straight and head held high, but Vaella was the only one holding his eye contact. Daemon tried not to smirk at his daughter’s defiance and show of power.

“Prince Daemon.” Luke and Jace had finally found their voices, once Daemon stood in front of them, both of them looking at the ground.

“Do you have no consideration for your mother’s well-being?” Prince Daemon’s voice was harsh as he scolded the siblings, “Disappearing from a place, without a word to your parents, in a land which does not favor us is rather foolish, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Vaella agreed, breaking the eye contact as she lowered her eyes to the ground, “I apologize, my Prince, it was my idea to take our dragons and fly for a bit—”

“Yes, I was not expecting it the other way around, Princess,” Daemon sighed and let his eyes rest on Jace and Luke, “I was told you raided the kitchen—”

“That was my idea, my Prince.” Jace tried to cover for his sister as he averted his eyes from Daemon, embarrassed, but also scared.

“And it was my idea to fly out to this meadow not far from here—”

“Luke!” Vaella snapped and glanced back at him with a glare, telling him to shut up. Only Rhaenyra and her knew of that place and she showed it to her brothers because she trusted them. She did not wish for her father to know about it. Luke smiled at her sheepishly and looked at the ground when Daemon chuckled.

“I know of that meadow, daughter, who do you think showed it to your mother?” Vaella’s eyes snapped back up at her father and she tried to hide her surprise. So all this time, both her mother and father knew of it. It made Vaella wonder how many times they visited that beautiful place.

“Well,” Vaella cleared her throat and glanced at her brothers before looking back at her father, “We apologize for disappearing unannounced, it was foolish of us.”

“Yes, very well,” Daemon nodded at them and sighed, placing his hands on his hips, “Now go and announce your mother that you all are back so that she stops worrying, quickly!”

Jace and Luke nodded eagerly, glad that they wouldn’t get punished, as they ran around Vaella and Daemon, stopping to wait for their sister at the top of the stairs. Vaella was about to walk away as well, but Daemon raised his hand, stopping her.

“Not you, Princess, we haven’t trained together in long.” Daemon said with a smirk and Vaella chuckled, looking at her brothers before waving.

“This late, father?!” Jace whined, wanting Vaella to go with them to their mother, knowing well that Rhaenyra wouldn’t shout at them if Vaella was there to mediate.

“ȳdra daor mazverdagon aōha muñnykeā umbagon syt longer, ziry jāhor mērī jiōragon madder.” (Don't make your mother wait for longer, she will only get madder.) Daemon sounded amused as Luke sighed and took Jace’s arm, quickly running inside the castle, not wanting to prolong their mother’s worry. Vaella chuckled at her father’s words and unclasped her cloak, the evening’s cold breeze getting to her. Daemon twirled his sword around as dusk settled on the kingdom, already wearing his armor. Vaella and him moved to the side of the courtyard to stay out of other’s way as they would train. Vaella went and grabbed an armor fit for her and put it on, getting familiar to the feel of it, as she unclasped her own sword from her hip, gripping the handle tightly in her left hand. She went and stood in front of Daemon, leaving a respectable space between them as Daemon started walking around her, yet Vaella stayed unmoving. She concentrated hard, listening to each of his father’s steps as he was behind her, and abruptly turned when she heard the slash of a sword in the air, rising to strike down on her. Vaella had her own sword up, blocking her father’s sword as she drew in a deep breath, striking once and twice, making her father step back in retaliation. Daemon smirked at her aggressivity and nodded his head at her, showing appreciation for her moves. Vaella paid it no mind as she jumped forward, bringing her sword towards her father as she attacked him this time, bringing vicious jabs against his armor with her sword. Daemon knew she was just playing around with him, having taught her that himself, so he started advancing on her, trying to sway her focus as his sword was blocked by hers again and again.

           Vella and Daemon were fierce soldiers who had no problem playing with their adversary before gaining the upper hand and striking down on them. Usually their trainings would stretch out as they both took their time to attack, and tonight was no different. The courtyard was lit by torches as their swords clashed against each other, a few lords standing in the balcony, watching the father and daughter duel, as sweat covered their foreheads. Vaella was panting hard, her arms burning from the constant brute force she was using in her try of disarming her father, but it was futile. It seemed as if Daemon somehow always gained the upper hand and defeated her. It frustrated her, she wanted to show her father that she was capable of taking down anyone, but perhaps that day hasn’t come yet. With one blow, Vaella’s sword lay on the ground as Daemon had his pointed at her neck, chuckling when he saw his daughter’s fuming gaze staring daggers at him.

“You had gotten better, Princess.” Daemon said as he lowered his sword and picked up hers, handing it to her. Vaella took it with force, strapping it onto her hip as she sighed.

“And yet I wasn’t able to disarm you not even once, father, and we’ve been out here for hours.” Vaella voice was quiet as she undid her low bun, setting her hair free, as it reached the middle of her back. She had rather wavy hair and it got frizzy after wearing it in a bun all day, but that was her go-to hairstyle as it was easy to move around and fight, if needed.

“Do not fret, Vaella, you learn very quickly,” Daemon tried to reassure his daughter, “You picked up three new ways of attack tonight, daughter, you are good.”

“Good isn’t enough.” Vaella snapped as she helped her father undo the bindings of his armor, “I need to be excellent.”

“You already are.” Daemon whispered as Vaella stood in front of him. Her eyes found his and she looked away, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Despite Daemon not being around while she was a child, after her parent’s marriage, they had gotten close very quickly. It didn’t come as a big surprise as Vaella knew he was her real father, she yearned to know who he truly was. Rhaenyra had told her many stories of Daemon while she was growing up, and as a young girl, she had been so curious of this mystery man. Finally meeting him at Laena’s funeral came as a shock. Vaella could still remember the knot in her throat and her lungs refusing to take in air when she was forced to greet Daemon by her grandsire. Daemon’s eyes had widened, just slightly, but Vaella had seen it. Rhaenyra was biting her lip as she watched the exchange, and quickly fled the scene when Daemon turned to face her, face littered with a million of questions.

“You are Rhaenyra’s firstborn child, yes?” Daemon had asked Vaella once her mother departed, and she gulped, yet managed to hold his cold gaze.

“Yes, Prince Daemon.” Vaella had answered him, voice hard before she walked off, not knowing what to do with herself, until she spotted her brothers with their cousins. She decided to join them and share her condolences with the two girls, who were quietly crying into Jace and Luke’s shoulders, the boys awkwardly trying to comfort them. Daemon stood shocked as he watched the little girl, Rhaenyra’s firstborn, joining his daughters from Laena, and couldn’t help but think, how neither one of his daughters resembled him as much as Vaella did. His heart clenched and he knew he had to talk to Rhaenyra, ask her what was suddenly eating him alive. Vaella watched as the mystery man, who she looked so much like, stormed off, no surprise, to find her mother. Suddenly, in the young girl’s mind, everything started making sense. Why everyone looked at her with so much spite at the Red Keep whenever she said something harsh. Why people would whisper ‘bastard’ behind her back as she walked by them. And why, sometimes when the King would get drunk, would cup Vaella’s cheek and whisper Daemon’s name to her before stalking off, leaving her so confused. It all made sense now, and she couldn’t stop the few tears escaping her eyes as she hugged her two grieving cousins, offering them support like her brothers had done.

“Vaella, you are a woman like none other,” Daemon spoke up, bringing his daughter back into the present, as he took his armor off, “And you resemble your mother so much, the new and old Gods have truly blessed you—”

“Yet I don’t resemble her enough that people wouldn’t whisper bastard behind my back as a little girl growing up in this castle.” Vaella didn’t mean to be harsh, but she couldn’t help it. Being back here aggravated her, made her feel things she had been repressing for so long. She loved her father and mother, but she resented them for hiding the truth from her, for letting her feel confused for so long. She resented Daemon for not being there for her when she was scared, and had nobody to go to, a man, who would protect her. Prince Laenor was never there when she needed him most and in a perfect fantasy of hers, she imagined Daemon always being there for her.

“If I had known—if Rhaenyra would have told me, you know I would’ve been present in your life since the beginning—” Vaella cut him off with a loud sigh, looking above them, spotting the curious looking lords in the balcony looking down at them. They were talking quietly, but she was paranoid.

“But that wasn’t the case, father, and we can do nothing to change the past, we must accept it and move on. I’m trying to do just that, you should too.” Vaella’s words were firm as she stepped back from her father and started undoing the added leather for protection on her calves.

“Of course.” Daemon muttered and glanced up at the curious lords, sending them a glare before looking back at Vaella. They couldn’t have much privacy at this damned castle.

“Nyke gīmigon skoriot aōha pazavorve lays rȳ.” (I know where your loyalty lays at.) Daemon spoke up in High Valyrian, making sure no one but just the two of them would understand, “Yn nyke līs epagon lo ao jāhor nykeōragon ondoso aōha dāria daor matter se situation se outcome.” (But I must ask if you will stand by your Queen no matter the situation and outcome.)

Vaella stiffened and straightened her back, looking at her father fiercely, “Ao should feel ashamed asking such mirre hen issa!” (You should feel ashamed asking such thing from me!) She didn’t mean for her voice to raise, but she was outraged by her father’s foolish question.

“Rhaenyra iksos se mērī dāria nyke jāhor mirre support.” (Rhaenyra is the only Queen I will ever support.) Daemon saw no hesitation in his daughter, heard no hidden motives in her words. He knew he could trust her, but he needed to hear it. Nothing was certain anymore, and he couldn’t fight a war alone, without her on their side.

“Nyke feel ziry isse ñuha bones, tala, iā vīlībāzma iksis brewing.” (I feel it in my bones, daughter, a war is brewing.) Daemon sighed out, shaking his head as Vaella took off the other leather from her calf.

“Pār īlon kessa vīlībagon ziry.” (Then we shall fight it.) Vaella held her head high, bringing a proud smile on Daemon’s lips, “Se ērinagon ziry.” (And win it.)

“We shall.” Daemon repeated and walked up to his daughter, grabbing her shoulder. She looked at him with tired eyes, feeling her body begging her to take a hot bath and rest, tomorrow would be a straining day. Daemon smiled at Vaella before leaning in and kissing her forehead, wishing her good night, and departing to his chamber to rest for the night.

Vaella heaved a sigh and threw her leather protectors onto the ground roughly, pulling at her own bindings with no patience, wanting to be out of her armor. She didn’t care if the lords were still watching her, she was a soldier, not a gentle lady like those lords were used to seeing and being with. So, with a harsh tug, Vaella took her armor off herself and let it fall to the ground, making it clatter loudly. She couldn’t help but sigh out in relief, finally having the added weight off her, her muscles sore as she hadn’t fought in long while wearing armor. She had started mumbling about how Daemon kept her out here for too long, and now she couldn’t go apologize to her mother for going away unannounced, unaware of the approaching footsteps from behind her. She looked around, searching for her cloak as she wouldn’t leave without it, and the cold breeze of the night was making her sweaty skin shudder.

“Shouldn’t a princess be in her chambers at such late hour, niece?” Vaella went rigid as she stood up straight, recognizing the voice, and she turned around to face her uncle. Aemond was standing tall, not too far from her, as he took in her form, realizing she was wearing the same clothing from earlier today when they had seen each other for the first time in so long. Vaella didn’t wish to answer him, instead stared him down, making sure to glare at him, only amusing Aemond as her face wasn’t very clear due to the night, the torches weren’t strong enough to lit up well the courtyard.

Turning her back to him and snatching her cloak, finally having found it, she snapped at her uncle, “I was out training with my father, uncle.”

Aemond just hummed and watched her fumble with her cloak as she threw it around her shoulders, securing it around her neck. The deep burgundy of her cloak was irking Aemond’s eye as he looked back at his niece’s face, finding nothing but defiance on it. It made him smirk, he rarely met women who didn’t cover before him, frightened out of their minds, and actually held his gaze without ogling at his eyepatch. And why would Vaella do that? She was there that night, she saw it all, she saw him freshly wounded, and even dared to scream at him that he deserved it for trying to defend himself against her brothers, who had ganged up on him. It made Aemond’s blood boil as he let the memory overtake him.

“One last fight before you depart to your chamber, Princess?” Aemond’s lips curled at the ends as raised his right eyebrow at Vaella, watching her every move, analyzing her every reaction. Vaella sucked in a deep breath, suddenly her heart beating quickly at the question. Her muscles were burning, her arms barely able to raise after the hours she had done training with Daemon. She wanted to say yes and punch that smug look off of her uncle’s face, but as a well-mannered princess, she had to decline. It was unacceptable that she was out here, unchaperoned by one of her guards, despite not needing one, so late in the night. While she was with her father it was alright, but the lords still haven’t gone from their balcony, finding this exchange more intriguing than the training with her father, waiting to spread gossip the next day. So no, she had to say no.

“Good night, Prince.” Vaella slightly bowed her head as she brushed past Aemond. Despite there being plenty of space, she wanted to show him that she wasn’t afraid of a little challenge, she just had to protect her own image while at the Red Keep. Wouldn’t want to add fuel to the already lingering fire.

“Sepār hae ēdan suspected, ao ābrar jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon se challenge īlva vali, yn gaomagon ao mirre drējī iōragon bē syt yourselves?” (Just as I had suspected, you women love to talk and challenge us men, but do you ever truly stand up for yourselves?) Aemond’s words made Vaella stop so fast that she let out a quiet groan, her muscles straining. Her ears started ringing as her uncle’s words replayed in her mind, but she had enough self-control to will herself to move again.

“Iksā dekurūbare qrīdrughagon kesrio syt iksā zūgagon.  Ao gīmigon nyke would defeat ao, niece.” (You are walking away because you are afraid. You know I would defeat you, niece.) Vaella tried not to see red in front of her eyes, but couldn’t. Not when Aemond was disrespecting her so casually and plainly. Her feet stopped and she took in a deep breath, feeling her chest rise and then slowly fall, as she let out that breath.

“Iksan daor zūgagon!” (I am not afraid!) Vaella couldn’t control the volume of her voice, she made the lords jump in the balcony with her loud shout, as she stormed back towards her uncle. He stood his ground, eyebrow raised as he watched his niece amused, suddenly red in the face after being accused by him of cowardly. Apparently, he still knew what to say to make her tick. Vaella had changed, but apparently, her temper and ego hadn’t.

“Se kesā sagon begging nyke naejot keligon.” (And you will be begging me to stop.) Vaella’s voice was grave as she stood, squaring up her uncle, staring up in his eye due to their close proximity. Aemond suddenly became serios, reaching up to undo the binding of his cloak.

“I take it we will fight then, niece.” He whispered, voice low yet so mischievous and challenging, it drove Vaella mad as she was fuming. She knocked her shoulder into his as she went back to her previous spot, where she had been searching for her cloak, and unclasped it, letting it fall onto the ground. She grabbed the hair tie off her wrist and messily tied her hair in a low bun, strands of hair sticking out in all directions, some didn’t even make it inside the bun, but she didn’t care as she drew her sword from its socket, holding it pointed towards Prince Aemond. He had abandoned his cloak as well, his own sword in his hand, as he came to stand in front of Princess Vaella.

“Will you not wear your armor, dear niece? Aren’t you afraid your perfect, fragile, skin might be cut—”

“I have fought battles without wearing armor, uncle, and I came out unscathed.” Vaella laughed, sarcasm dripping in her voice, “You should be the one afraid for their fragile, human skin.”

“You are forgetting I am a Targaryen myself, Princess.” Aemond snapped at the obvious jab of Vaella’s, wishing to slash her throat, but so far, they had been circling each other only, undecided who was the prey and who was praying on them.

“Half Targaryen, Prince.” Vaella’s voice was loud as she made sure even the lords would hear her and she could hear them whispering, oh, how sweet the gossip tomorrow would be, she couldn’t wait. Aemond had seemingly had enough of Vaella’s taunting and decided to strike first, aggressively and merciless, as his blow sent Vaella stumbling back. His force was amazing, Vaella imagined he was weaker as his tall, lanky body seemed to have less force than the actual he had in himself. She braced herself, willing her mind to ignore the burning of her muscles as adrenaline started rushing through her, making her smirk to herself. She saw Aemond trying to land another strike, so she jumped first, raising her sword and bringing it down on him, making Aemond hiss as he barely was able to deflect her blow. Vaella chuckled and bowed her head in a mocking apology, making Aemond strike again harshly, aiming for her legs, trying to throw her off balance. But it didn’t work as Vaella blocked each and every of his attacks, their swords clashing against each other loudly as both of them were grunting due to the force they were putting into the fight. And so, it was established, Aemond was the one who attacked and Vaella was the one who had to defend herself, from time to time, gaining a bit of advantage as she managed to corner Aemond with her strong blows, yet never managed to disarm him. It was becoming tiring and Vaella was starting to get frustrated as all she wished for was to fall into her puffy bed and let her body rest, but when Aemond managed to slice the sleeve of her shirt, it snapped her back from her body’s wants, and broke her patience. She was done playing the victim, defending herself from his ruthless blows. She took charge, going at him, and striking him from each and every side she could, twisting her body and making Aemond defend like he has never before. His long hair was getting in the way of his good eye as Vaella kept circling him and attempting jabs at him, and he was growing frustrated, wanting to disarm her to prove his point to her. But Vaella was just not letting him gain advantage and he could help but let out a frustrated cry as he jumped forward, making Vaella retaliate, as she didn’t see his sudden, stupid, attack coming. And because she was taken off guard, Aemond managed to knock the sword out of her hold, making her hiss when her wrist suffered the strain of the blow. He didn’t just knock the sword out of her hold, but ripped it out. Their chests were rising and falling quickly, both of them sweaty, and out of breath as they gazed into each other’s eyes, waiting for the other to make the next move. Technically, Vaella had lost, but Aemond wasn’t making the final move, as if he couldn’t actually believe he had won. But he had, in his mind, at least. And with a smug smirk, he allowed his body to relax as he slowly started raising his sword from the ground to point it at Vaella’s neck. But this was exactly what Vaella was waiting for, and she almost laughed when in a swift movement, while raising her leg to knock it into Aemond’s wrist to knock his sword out of his hold, she also went and grabbed the dagger hidden inside her boot. When Aemond’s sword clattered to the ground he had no time to feel shocked or try to even retrieve it, because he found himself tackled onto the hard ground, grunting as the back of his head collided with the sandy concrete. He looked up at his niece as her body pinned his down against the ground, legs around his hips as she pushed all her body weight on him, and he gulped. This was something new. He had never been put down by a woman, let alone a light one as his niece, who had him struggling to stand up, yet couldn’t. His fidgeting came to a sudden stop when Vaella’s dagger was pointed against his neck, lightly pushing against his skin. He let out a breath, looking up at the Princess with an almost defeated look on his face. Vaella, well versed in hand-to-hand combat, knew how to keep a man pinned against the ground, and made sure she left no options that could help Aemond get up and continue their fight. Now, Vaella was the one who won, Aemond didn’t have a second weapon like she did. The fight was over. Won by her. She gazed into Aemond’s eye with smugness, pressing her dagger a bit more into his skin, raising her eyebrows at him.

“What do you say, uncle—” But her words got swallowed, when Aemond suddenly pressed his neck against her dagger, scaring her that he was trying to slice his own neck, making her draw it back just slightly, offering Aemond a small opening so that he could grab her other dagger out of her boot. Before she could register what had happened, she only felt her other dagger being pulled from her boot and she had her own dagger pressing against her neck, Aemond being the one with a smug smirk on his face this time. Vaella couldn’t mask her shock as her eyes ran all over Aemond’s face, trying to think of her next move, what she should do. However, she made the mistake of softening her body, not pressing Aemond against the ground with all of her weight anymore, offering him the chance to move around freely. And so, Aemond decided to sit up swiftly, holding Vaella close to himself by her middle, as they had her daggers pressing against each other’s throats.

“I say it’s a draw, niece.” His voice was low as he breathed out his words, the two of them so close they could feel each other’s breaths on their faces. Vaella’s mind had gone blank, she felt like she couldn’t breathe or think all of a sudden. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t help but notice how firmly Aemond was holding her against himself, how she felt his thighs tensing underneath her, how her eyes were suddenly on his curled lips. No, she must’ve been losing her mind. Aemond tried to ignore how Vaella seemed to fit so well against his body and in a different scenario, they could’ve been snuggled up against each other like this. But Vaella finally caught herself and snapped out of her traitorous thoughts and drew her dagger back from Aemond’s neck, scurrying up and as far away as possible from Aemond. She refused to acknowledge all the thoughts that had just ran through her mind while she was sitting on top of him, she refused. It never happened, or else she’d hate herself until the day she dies. Aemond suddenly seemed to be robbed of the warmth he had been feeling prior, making it realize that it was Vaella who had been emitting it. Just as he had looked up at her, he saw a hand offered for him to take. He grabbed onto Vaella’s hand, who helped him up wordlessly, both of them trying to ignore the firm grip they seemed to have and their bodies reactions to it. Vaella quickly let go of his warm and large hand once Aemond stood on his feet. Aemond couldn’t help but notice his heart racing as he had felt Vaella’s soft skin against his battered one.

“Your daggers have been nicely crafted,” Aemond found his voice as he looked at his niece’s dagger, inspecting it closely. Of course, it had the emblem of the Targaryen’s on it and the handle was decorated with three blood-red stones, “Small, sharp, and vicious.”

Vaella knew he was talking about her daggers, but couldn’t help think he was describing her. She wasn’t small, however, maybe once had been, but once she grew she towered over most men, only the really tall ones could look down on her. And it just so happened that Aemond was almost a head taller than her. She refused to look at him as Aemond handed her dagger back, searching her face to see a reaction or something, but Vaella had blanked. All she wanted to do was lay in her bed and forget that this whole fight even happened. Once both of her daggers were in her hands, she grabbed her sword and walked up to get her cloak, but didn’t bother to put it on, as she stormed past her uncle, making sure to keep her distance as the feel of his body was still fresh in her mind.

Aemond grabbed his own cloak and gazed after his niece, securing his sword against his hip as he took off towards the city, needing to blow off some steam. Her soft skin forever engraved inside his mind.

↳Next part (to be posted) 

[alysmondstuff]

I have no credit for this at all ALL CREDITS GO TO HAPPILYHERTALE @happilyhertale

This fanfic has been so great so far and I love it so much! Everyone should go read it! You're so great!! I'm hoping to read even more. Loving it <3

Can't wait for HOTD Season 2

[itshelia]

Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

[buckybarnesb-tch]

Can you please write a fic for that Aemond kidnapping his niece to marry her moodboard.

His Stolen Princess -Aemond T.

(Of course I can. That’s not the kind of request my fucked up mind turns down🤣)

Aemond had always needed her, ever since they were children. She was 2 years younger than him but Y/n had always been the only one to treat him kindly, always punching her brothers for their bitchy “jokes” that she hated just as much as Aemond did.

Y/n didn’t have a dragon either, but unlike Aemond she wasn’t teased for it, neither her mother Rhaenyra nor Alicent would tolerate boys teasing a Princess in any way, and Y/n was also deathly afraid of dragons. The only one she wasn’t afraid of was ironically Caraxes, Daemon dragging her onto his back many times as a child. The Bloodworm adored the small Targaryen quite a bit, Aemond had a sneaking suspicion it was because Daemon was Y/n’s father and his dragon knew it just as well as everyone else, though no one commented on it for fear of Viserys’ wrath. The only time Daemon got to spend with her was riding Caraxes when he visits the Keep so Aemond assumes that’s why his Uncle put in the extra effort to make her comfortable with the red dragon.

Aemond had made her promise that she would do the same with his dragon some day, he would take her riding, of that he was sure! She actually seemed quite excited about it, probably more so about her Uncle getting what he wanted so badly, more than anything in the world.

The night that Aemond mounted Vhagar, Y/n had been with him (on the dunes and far from the dragon) and she was so happy for him, running to wrap her arms around him as he stepped away from the she-dragon. Vhagar seemed to inspect her momentarily before groaning and laying down to go back to sleep. She had stuck by him against her brothers and cousins when they declared Vhagar to be Rhaena’s to claim, insisting you can’t call dibs on a dragon. Aemond had been the one to shove her to the ground, away from the fighting so that she wouldn’t get hurt. She had gotten back up anyway, jumping at Luke the second after he had sliced his eye open, ending up with a deep and jagged cut along her neck as she hit him repeatedly until his face was black and blue, a guard pulling her off when Jace couldn’t.

She held Aemonds hand the entire time he was getting stitched up, barely able to ignore the adults or the maester stitching her painful injury on the side of her neck, one Aemond felt terrible about as he failed to protect her. As always she assured him he had done nothing wrong and stayed by his side, eventually drifting off to sleep cuddled into him in the oversized chair. He took the rare opportunity to wrap his arms around her and pull her small body as close as he possibly could, glaring at Jace who was the only one who seemed to be watching their snuggling.

He hadn’t been able to object when Daemon took her from him, the stern man giving him a look that dared him to wake her by making a scene, Daemon being the only person in the world that actually scared him. He hadn’t been able to object to her boarding a boat later that morning either as he had been drugged with milk of the poppy for his pain and put to bed by his mother. He raged for days about not seeing her, violently angry at not getting to say goodbye, as well as all of his letters going ignored (thanks to Rhaenyra deciding Aemond and Y/n’s relationship was over). Y/n never forgave her mother for that, or for how much (like Rhaenyra’s father had loved her the most of all his children) Rhaenyra adored her brothers more than she ever loved Y/n.

It was many years later, 8 to be exact, when Aemond was 8 and 10 that he finally heard about Y/n again, Rhaenyra apparently putting out the word that now that her daughter was 6 and 10, she was looking for a suitor. The rage that built in Aemond burned hotter than dragon fire, his blood was boiling and Alicent pleaded with her son not to do anything drastic as he stormed from the room that his mother and sister were playing with Helaena’s twin boys in. He dressed in all black, before escaping away on Vhagar that evening.

It was pitch black out, somewhere in the early hours of the morning that Aemond arrived at Dragonstone. He hadn’t spent a large amount of time there, but he knew where Y/n’s room was and sneaking around the sleeping guards after landing Vhagar on the far side of the island was far too easy. Aemond made a mental note to keep her far safer when she was his wife, not willing to risk his wife and children’s lives as Rhaenyra was clearly willing to do with her children. He briefly contemplated sneaking in and killing Luke while he was here but he wouldn’t risk causing a commotion too early and not being able to sneak away. The last thing he needed with a sleepy bride on his dragon with him, was a battle in the sky.

He snuck into her room, shutting the door quietly behind him and saw her sleeping soundly in her bed. She was beautiful, prettier than he could have imagined as he sat on the edge of the bed, stroking the side of her face gently as he used to do to wake her up for their morning classes.

‘Open those eyes Byka Zaldrīzes, your Prince has come for you.’ He whispered, leaning over her and seeing her lashes flutter before she fought through the drowsy confusion and realized who he was.

‘Aemond? Is this another dream?’ She mumbled, sitting up slightly and staring at him.

‘You dream of me often Byka Zaldrīzes?’ He wondered and she nodded.

‘I always dream of you Kepa, I have missed you for so long!’ She lunged forward, hugging around his neck and he pushed through the dirty thoughts his mind came up with as he felt her chest pressed against his in her sheer night gown. ‘Wait, what are you doing here?’ She questioned, pulling away but he didn’t let her get far as his arms still held her.

‘I’ve come to steal you away, my love. I could not allow your mother to give away my bride. After all, we’re already married.’ Her eyes widened and she giggled at the mention of their fake wedding they had when they were 7 and 5, promising themselves to each other one day when they were old enough.

‘I wish you could Kepa, but I am to be married to Cregan Stark, mother has already arranged it. I am to freeze the rest of my life away in a castle so far North I’ll never see flowers bloom again.’ He could see how unhappy she was about it and he knew he could convince her. He would take her if he had to, and technically people would believe that either way, but he didn’t want her to hate him, Aemond wanted Y/n to adore him as she always had, as he had always loved so much. ‘However, it’s my duty-‘

‘What about your duty to me? The promises we made-‘

‘Childish promises cannot be upheld Aemond, no matter how desperately we wish they could, and our Mothers would never let us marry!’

‘My mother has agreed, if you come back to Kings Landing with me, to your home, we will get married in the ways of old Valyria, like you always wanted…will the Stark idiot give you that? I think not…do you not love me anymore-‘

‘Don’t ever say that!’ She exclaimed and he shushed her quickly. ‘You are my one true love Kepa, you always were and you always will be…but I have a duty-‘

‘As do I, yet my mother sees how much you mean to me and she has given me her blessing…your mother does not care about the happiness of her daughter, which is odd considering how strongly she felt about choosing who she married, but she knows who you would choose, and so she forces you…come with me. We will be wed the moment we return and by the time your mother figures it out it will be too late, I will surely have consummated our marriage and you’ll be stuck with me. You’re mine Little Princess, no matter what they say, and I’m taking you with me.’ He had pushed her back and leaned over her in the bed as he spoke, hands on her waist while now pressing his lips over the deep scar on her neck and hearing her gasp. ‘I know I excite you…does that Stark excite you the way I do? Hmm? Does he make your heart race and your cunt drip? Do you touch yourself while you think of him like I know you do me?’ Y/n whimpered as Aemond continued kissing up her jaw, sucking on a spot that made her moan like a silk street whore, leaving a dark purple bruise in his wake before pressing his lips to hers, his nieces arms wrapping around his neck tightly. ‘You know that you’re mine. Don’t you?’

‘Kepa…’

‘You’re mine Little Princess, no matter what they tell you…and I’m taking you with me one way or another. Come willingly and enjoy your life with me, because I desperately want to wake to you in my arms tomorrow, ravaged and happy, with my son growing in your needy little womb.’ She whined as his hand trailed to her belly, pressing over where his children will grow inside of her. ‘You want that, don’t you? How many did you say we would have? 4? Imagine how gorgeous you’ll look carrying my babies, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you. Neither will anyone else, I’ll be cutting off hands left and right of the men who would take you from me…we must go, before I ruin you here and now.’ Aemond pressed his lips to hers one last time before pulling away and standing, holding his hand out to her and waiting as she stared up at him, grabbing his hand and allowing him to sweep her into his arms. He quickly grabbed her heavy black cloak and closed the door behind them silently again, getting back out of the castle and only having to avoid 2 guards. ‘You’ll be much better protected when we get home. My Little Princess will never worry about anything again in her life.’ He promised, walking back down to where Vhagar rested, waiting for her rider to return. Y/n stiffened in his arms when she saw the large dragon, nails digging into him as he approached her. ‘Relax, she won’t harm you. She knows how much I love you, she has since the moment you hugged me on the beach.’ Vhagar looked at her but didn’t seem bothered before Aemond suddenly swung her over his shoulder.

‘Aemond! I can climb myse-‘

‘Nonsense! I will not have you falling! You’re alright right where you are!’ He knew he was impressing her with just how strong he was, hauling them both up onto the dragon without even breathing heavily. ‘Now, hold on.’ He instructed, setting her in front of him on the saddle and wrapping her up in the heavy cloak to fight back the chilly wind that is above the clouds.

Upon their return, Aemond instantly had everyone ready to witness their marriage, Alicent having been prepared for exactly this. It was quick, but perfect for his Princess, and he adored seeing her smiling face through the entire ceremony before he hauled her into his arms once again and whisked her back to their chambers.

‘I’m going to fuck you so full you be dripping for days!’ He swore, dropping her onto the bed and peeling off his clothing instantly, her eyes going wide as she saw him bare for the first time. ‘You are just perfectly innocent, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I am! You think I would give myself to anyone but my husband?’ He could see she was offended by the mere thought and he couldn’t stop the chuckle.

‘Never, you are my sweet little Princess, of course you are all mine.’ Aemond climbed over her and shoved the skirts up her waist, exposing her completely for him, throwing the dress away from the bed. ‘You are everything I have always dreamed of, since we were children I have craved you and that has never changed…I’m going to devour you, my sweet Dragon.’ He could feel how wet she was as he guided the head of his cock up and down her slit several times before pushing his way into her. He clenched his teeth as he heard her give a sharp gasp in pain, knowing he needed to be gentle. He had only ever done this once before and it was a terrible experience for him, his brother taking him to a brothel but Y/n was wetter, and tighter, so tight on his cock it almost hurt as he bottomed out inside of her and held himself over her, brushing her hair from her eyes and focusing on them until she was able to relax. Her arms wound around his neck as he pulled back and then pushed back into her several times. As he pushed himself into her body harder he could hear her whines in his ear, his cock twitching at the mere thought of making his Princess feel good on his cock, a feat no one but he would ever accomplish.

‘Aemond! Oh F-Fuck! Aem-I feel…’

‘Good girl Princess, cum for me! Finish with my cock thrusting into you, deeper than anything has ever been!’

‘Oh God-‘

‘Not God! No, I am your husband! Husband…Uncle…and in this room I am your King! You are going to cum all over my cock because your King demands it!’

‘Yes! Yes-Please-‘

‘Now!’ As he growled out that last demand the tight feeling that he was convinced couldn’t squeeze him harder, did, and he felt his cock twitching hard.

‘Yes! Please? Make me yours Aemond! Fill me up my King!’

That threw him over the edge. His perfect little niece that he had craved nearly their whole lives, the one that had been stolen from him, that he had to steal back in the dead of night, and here she is begging to be full of his sons and calling him “King”? He is in love!

‘You’re trembling.’ She mumbled in his ear as he collapsed against her shaking in his post orgasm bliss, face nuzzled into her neck.

‘Mine. All mine now little Niece, nothing can take you from me…all mine.’ He swore, knowing that no matter what Daemon and Rhaenyra did, they could never take her from him again.

If they tried, he would have his dragon burn their world to the ground.

Aemond Kidnaps Niece Moodboard

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist