itdans

[damn-stark]

Chapter 14 Autumn sadness

Chapter 14 of Moonlight

A/N- Aemond stop being horny for your wife challenge (Impossible)

Warning- Swearing, talks of pregnancy, Aegon!, mentions of sexual harassment, angst, fluff, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- 2x04

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“Here again?” You query while you shade your eyes from the luminous sun starting to peek over the roof of the Dragonpit. “Another rendezvous?” You smile.

Aemond looks away from Aerion in his arms and shakes his head. “No, it’s something else.”

You squint your eyes and probe for more. “Like?”

Before Aemond can answer a Kingsguard shouting catches your attention. “Stand back!”

You look over and notice some Smallfolk trying to approach the stairs in an attempt to reach you. “Princess!”

“Princess!”

“Over here!”

Unlike before this time the calls aren’t born from admiration and excitement, you can hear the desperation in their voice as they try and steal your attention. You can see the plea for help in their eyes, the helplessness, and the hunger.

“Bring us some food, please!”

Your help wasn’t widespread, you would feed and give money to those few people you came across. You were never allowed to do more than that, but your charity is well known now that they’re looking for any kind of help. Anything that can feed their growling stomachs, and needing children.

“<I told you,” Aemond remarks in High Valyrian. “Feed one stray dog and others won’t fail to follow to beg too.>”

You glance at him with a disturbed look before you take a look at all the people you can’t help when they need you the most. You have money, but what good is that when there’s hardly any food for them to buy? All you can do is offer them an apologetic look before you ignore them and drive your attention to this early morning adventure Aemond has yet to explain.

“So are you going to tell me why we’re here?” You pressure him to fill your curiosity.

Yet he just smirks at you, making you roll your eyes and focus on the building holding sacred power just under its surface.

Which is pretty unbelievable! These powerful dragons your family can ride, that you can use to burn down towns and people to ash are kept in chains under a stone building that they can easily destroy, or that can also easily be their death.

It’s crazy to think about, but it’s true isn't it? If your mother decided to come in secret with all the dragons at her side they could attack the Dragonpit, and the rubble could be the dragon's death. Your dragon's death…

Thinking of Astraea dying is worse than thinking of someone you love dying. You’ve known your dragon since you were a babe, literally, she hatched when you were only a few months old, and you haven't been apart a moment since then. She's your soulmate. Losing her would be like losing yourself.

But your mother wouldn’t be so desperate as to attack the Dragonpit and kill the power of your house, they’re sacred, powerful, and majestic. Better than any army of men…

“I wish we had more family to ride dragons,” you express what springs to mind.

“What do you mean?” Aemond quickly follows up on your comment.

“Just that,” you counter with growing excitement as this idea keeps unfurling. “If we had more family we could trust, they could ride the other dragons that reside at Dragonstone. All who had riders in the past.”

Aemond gives you all his attention as his interest is completely stolen by what you’re trying to get at.

“There’s Vermithor,” you list the dragons that live in Dragonstone, on your fingers. “Silverwing, and…my father's dragon, Seasmoke.”

Thoughts turn behind Aemond’s eye before it all seems to come to a halt as he comes up with a conclusion. “We don’t need the other dragons, we have Vhagar.”

You scoff and get closer to him to argue for a sole worry, his safety. “Yes, but Vhagar and Sunfyre alone won’t win against my mother's dragons. They have 5 to your two, or three if you count me,” you add.

“There’s Tessarion,” he brings up the forgotten son, making you quickly brush him off.

“Still not enough, he’s young—Do you want to know what Daemon wanted to do when he found out Aegon was crowned?” You share with a bit of desperation, which is why you don’t let him answer. “He wanted to attack King’s Landing with all the dragons. Tell me if Vhagar would’ve survived that?”

Aemond looks ahead and answers with silence because he knows you’re right. He doesn’t want to admit that though, so instead he deflects with a question that he’s been wondering about since the war started. “Would you have attacked me with them?”

There’s nothing to think about, you know this answer as clear as day. “No,” you admit confidently. “I wasn’t mad at you then. I told you…I missed you.”

Aemond’s guard falls, and his eye falls on Aerion before he looks back at you with his eye reflecting the sun's beams peeking over the roof.

“You know,” you finally have a chance to admit something you haven’t talked about, and something he hasn’t asked out of fear of what you’d say? Who knows.

“If I knew what Daemon wanted to do I…don’t think I would have let him go through with it. Even if I thought I hated you at the time.” You swallow thickly and a breath escapes past his lips, making him collect himself to finally dig into this matter that has been running in his head.

“Where were you?” He asks.

You sigh and briefly steal a glance at the approaching entrance. “We were in the North,” you say quietly. “When we arrived at Dragonstone Daemon was not there anymore. I didn’t even know about his plan until the next day after I returned from Driftmark. And when I did find out,” you pause and sigh deeply before you meet his curious eye as he waits for more.

“Before Jacaerys could finish telling me what actually happened I was struck with fear…my world went dark when I thought you were killed,” you admit and feel yourself grow flustered as he keeps his eye on you. “And then when Jacaerys finished telling me the news I was horrified. You believe me right? I would never have let Daemon kill Jaehaerys.”

Panicked tears well in your eyes and he quickly assures you.

“I know.”

You nod in comprehension and breathe out that slight panic that just rattled you. “Anyway,” you continue with what you started with. “I couldn’t fathom you being killed, so it’s lucky that you were gone,” you feign a laugh. “I mean I’m not glad where you were, but it saved you so.”

Aemond comes to a stop, and you climb to the top before you stop and face him with a quizzical brow.

“I was not at the brothel because I sought lust,” he says again to get it through your mind and heart, but this time he adds something else that makes your heart skip a beat. “I did not think you would return home, I needed to talk to someone.”

A smile slowly spreads on your lips and you climb down to be in front of him before you assure him of one thing. “We would have found our way to each other eventually. I believe that. We’re one heart, one soul, one flesh. We literally drank each other's blood.”

He scoffs softly and you grin, making bliss glimmer in his eye and pull a soft smile to his own lips before he reaches over to cup your cheek and gently stroke your flesh.

You swoon at the touch and can’t help but reach over to grab his hand and hold his warmth.

There’s so much both of you can say on the aspect, you can reminisce about the past when getting married was a prospect that excited you both, and that you wanted more than anything. You could admit that fear is something you don’t feel when he’s close, but it is something he does feel because of the love he harbors for you. Yet neither of you says anything.

Your love is shared through the windows of your soul, right there on top of the steps, under the soft morning sky, with your son as a witness. Actually, he’s the one who interrupts the moment when he notices you just a hair's breadth away by reaching for your cheek with his little hand to try and grab you the same way Aemond was grabbing you.

When Aemond and you notice, you both share a laugh.

“<Beautiful, huh?>” Aemond directs at Aerion with a proud smile, making you giggle before you fall by Aemond’s side and hook your arm around his.

“Now,” you move this moment along by making him continue forward, and by moving on with this conversation. “Will you tell me why we’re here with our son?”

The corner of his lips tug up and he looks at you with a mischievous look that intrigues you.

“Spill,” you encourage him.

“Shrykos, the dragon egg chosen for Jaehaerys hatched the other day,” Aemond reveals, making your lips part with surprise—“I wanted to bring Aerion in hopes they will bond.”

You blink in surprise, but that quickly transforms into nothing but worry that knits your eyebrows and pushes you to share your concern. “But won’t Aegon be mad that you’re trying to bond Aerion to Shrykos?”

Aemond scoffs. “Why should he?” He retorts as walks you inside the dimmed arena. “Shrykos is free to claim now. It doesn’t belong to him.”

Is that what he said about Vhagar too?

“Hm, I suppose you’re right, but Aerion is still a babe,” you express more building-up worry. “He can’t defend himself if it doesn’t work.”

“I will have my blade ready,” Aemond makes sure to quickly assure you, but nothing he says actually gets rid of that feeling weighing down on you. Especially not when you reach the hall where the hatchlings and eggs are kept. It starts to feel like you’re lacking fresh air to breathe.

If anything happens to Aerion you’ll go mad.

“Aemond,” you try to express your worry, but he turns to assure you again.

“It will be fine, the keepers are here, and I have my hand on my pommel. I won’t let anything happen to our son.”

You hold his gaze to take more of that reassurance you need before you approach the stone table where Aemond sits Aerion, and where they have Shrykos’ carrier.

“<Since the one trying to bond is a babe, there won’t be commands, we will have to trust they communicate from within, the way you also communicate with your dragons.>” One of the keepers explains, making you clench your fists before you press your hands on the table to be ready to snatch Aerion if it all goes wrong.

“<Ready?>” The second keeper asks and looks between Aemond and you, making you and Aemond share a short speechless look before he answers with a nod.

The keeper then unties the crate's latch and lets a small swamp-green hatchling slowly crawl out of the darkness of her crate.

At first, it seems too timid to fully leave its crate, it stands there and tilts its little green head while her orange eyes focus on Aerion directly ahead of him.

Aemond and you share a curious look that's also mixed with worry that steals more of your breaths, and triggers your heart to race; causing the blood in your veins to pump rapidly, whilst also making your hands tremble.

Aemond notices your fear taking over, he senses it too because he feels concerned too, so he reaches over and wraps his hand around yours, letting a deep breath escape through your nose, and making your racing heart find some ease.

Yet not enough, it still thumps as you watch the hatchling completely leave her crate with her eyes locked on Aerion. All the while your babe glances over at you with no idea what’s going on; he doesn’t seem to be scared, he just steals a glimpse at Aemond and you before he returns his attention to the dragon and tries to reach for it.

Shrykos seems curious by Aerion’s movements so she crawls forward without that initial timidness that held her back before. She comes to a stop in front of Aerion and tilts her head to the side to look at him.

Aemond lets your hand go and uses both hands to hold his blade's handle and pull half of it out of his sheath. You lift your hands off the table and leave them out to be ready.

Aerion coos and leans forward to try and get a hold of the dragon, seeming to attract Shrykos to Aerion’s legs. That's when the babe finally brushes his little fingers over the dragon's head and smiles.

Shrykos blinks and her pupils seem to dilate before she coos back and suddenly climbs on Aerion to wrap itself around his shoulders and nuzzle her head against his cheek, making Aerion squeal.

You gasp and turn to look at Aemond at the same time he turns to look at you. Nothing is shared at first, but when you grasp that Aerion bonded with Shrykos you both share a proud smile.

“<It's done,” one of the keepers confirms what you concluded. “They are now bonded.>”

All the tension escapes you and you can’t help but grin and hug Aemond’s arm before he reaches over and takes Aerion in his arms with a proud grin on his long face.

“Good job, my boy,” you coo at Aerion as you stroke his cheek, but the boy is too focused on his dragon to pay any attention to you.

“Now no one will look down on you, my boy,” Aemond whispers to Aerion before he presses a kiss on the side of his head.

Your gaze drifts to look at Aemond as you take in what he said, as you detect the hurt in his voice brought by his childhood trauma when he was dragonless and picked on for that reason alone.

“We would never have let that happen if this hadn’t worked,” you tell Aerion whilst you also reassure Aemond. “And if they tried I would have protected you like I protected your father.”

Aemond hums and leans over to press a kiss on the top of your head.

“What time is the council meeting?” You ask him as you grab his arm.

“Not until noon,” he says. “Why?”

You offer him a mischievous smile and even if you know that he takes his responsibilities seriously and that the war outside this city's gates brings a tension within the Red Keep that takes a grip around everyone's throats, what’s wrong with a little escape? What’s wrong with getting carried away in the joy and pride that is brought by Aerion bonding with a dragon?

You aren’t making him abandon his responsibilities, you’re just asking for a little escape. And surprisingly he accepts your proposal and lets you take Astraea out so you both can mount your dragons and take them to the skies with Shrykos mounted on Aemond’s shoulder since her wings are still delicate to fly long distances, and she wants to be close to Aerion, who is strapped to Aemond’s chest.

It’s true, perhaps being on dragonback out of enjoyment is insensitive, tragedy has struck the kingdoms and you are royalty. Perhaps it’s also reckless considering the blockade that doesn’t stand too far away, and maybe it’s also a bit irresponsible. There are other moments and places to take time for yourselves where there aren’t millions of desperate souls watching, but neither Aemond nor you care. What other people might think doesn’t cross your mind.

All that exists is each other upon the skies; feeling the cold sea water splash over your face as Astraea grazes the tip of her wing in the water as she flies within Vhagar’s shadow. After a moment she straightens out and flaps her wings to fly forward. When she's past Vhagar, Astraea tilts up before she spins upward to reach Vhagar’s level and cut her off.

You chuckle and it's soon carried away by the rushing breeze, but your beaming smile is something that can’t be blown away, just like the bliss that completely fills your heart. It’s actually a contagious thing, your bliss. It’s a wonder that heightens Aemond’s own happiness the moment you beam at him over your shoulder.

Now he isn’t as expressive as you, that’s something that’s always been true. You have always been the one that shines the most and it’s something that never bugged him, not then and not now. He does get bothered when other people stare too long in awe at you, but that’s only because they might try taking you away from him, that’s it. He’d never try and diminish your light, and he’s glad it hasn’t snuffed out after what he did.

He fears that this war will diminish you, but even then that wouldn’t matter, he’d still look at you with the same admiration. He’d just have to work to revive that divine light; even if his presence alone is a spark of life itself. As long as you have him close, as long as he’s alive, that luminous light that he sees but you don’t, will never die.

Doesn’t he know that he’s like the moon and stars that you cherish with your heart? He’s cool like the moon in the night sky. And like the moon and the stars, it’s impossible not to admire and love him when he’s not looking or even when his attention is focused on you, like now. He looks at you with that cool blue eye that glimmers under the sun's kiss, and you just get lost on his face not tense with trying to look intimidating; he's smiling softly without stress, his long hair is flowing back, and he’s nothing but playful in this stolen moment as you fly next to each other in understanding that whoever lands on the empty patch of land first is the winner.

However, the winner is an easy guess. It’s you and Astraea. He may have cheated by taking a shortcut, but Astraea is faster since she isn’t as old or gigantic.

Your dragon actually ends up swooping around Vhagar and Aemond, and neither of you loses eye contact, causing a tense need for each other to burn hot and only escalate when you’re on the ground with your back pressed against his chest, his lips brushing over your ear, his breaths unfurling over the goosebumps on your skin, and his hand over yours as he shows you how to practice a certain action.

“Okay, I got it. Let me do it,” you whisper and slide your feet back to your usual fighting stance; something which makes him push your feet back to the way he’s been teaching you.

“Why do you keep standing like that?” He queries.

You glance down at your stance and realize that it’s the way Cregan stands with his sword.

“When you watch different fights you pick up on different things,” you throw out as an excuse which is actually kind of true. There’s been so many others you have taken notes on so you have grasped different techniques.

“I can still kick your ass,” you tease and he huffs softly, so you show off by swiftly managing to push him back with your elbow. You then swiftly spin around and flip the sword in your hand to point the tip to his throat. In the exact same way, you saw him do it once.

“Your own move on you, my love,” you taunt with a wink.

Aemond’s eye falls on the sword before he meets your gaze and can’t help but smirk.

“You caught me off guard,” he points out, making you snort and nod.

“That’s the trick to winning isn’t it?” You tease him and start to lower the sword, leaving him the opportunity to lunge forward and capture your wrist to twist you around and yank you against him with your back pressed against his chest again.

“No fair,” you complain in a whisper as he slides his hand down to cup your hand and press it gently so you can let his sword go and be left unarmed.

“That was not right,” you add and let out a punctured breath as he drags his other hand around your torso, letting his fingers brush over the flesh your gown leaves exposed.

“I really like this gown,” he whispers against the shell of your ear and feels his way all over your body covered by the sea-green gown you wear, making you shiver and draw in the same deep breath he stole.

“You’re distracting me,” you don’t actually mean a word you say, you want him to keep touching you with those firm yet gentle touches that light your skin on fire.

“A warrior doesn’t get distracted,” he rebuttals.

You laugh breathlessly and tilt your head to the side to let his lips touch your cheek because you’re starting to ache for his mouth to be on yours, but don’t want to move away from his touch.

“This is not fair,” you keep saying and he lowers his head to press his nose against your neck and take in a deep breath of your sweet scent.

“I hate when you do that,” you murmur without actual meaning and bring one hand down to wrap it around the hand he has around you and slide it down to your hips, causing him to grip onto you with a mischievous grin.

“Aemond,” you coo out and turn your head, making your lips touch and driving you to insanity. You can’t hold back anymore, you turn around to meet his hungry eyes before you glance at his inviting lips and indulge your desire for a heated moment. You don't linger too long, you pull back rather quickly, leaving a string of saliva that connects you both until he leans in and presses a gentle peck on your lips.

“You remember what I have to do today,” he brings up.

You sigh and nod stiffly. “Yes,” you say back and pull back to meet his gaze. “I was hoping I could leave Astraea out to just protect the city while you and Vhagar are gone. I will feel better knowing she’s out on the ready.”

Aemond holds your gaze and you plead speechlessly and hope desperately.

“In truth, I would feel better if she was out too,” he says, letting you let out a relieved sigh. “I will tell Aegon, but leave her out regardless.”

Now you can send your mother her warning without risking you or anyone else.

No one will keep track of Astraea's whereabouts, and if they ask where she is you will say she’s hunting for her meal. She likes to eat fish after all.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a sweet smile.

He hums and presses a kiss on your cheek before you part away, and both speechlessly decide that you should head back to the Red Keep now.

Nevertheless, when you go to Aerion you find him asleep with his arm around Shrykos neck as she too is lost in deep slumber.

“Oh my,” you muse and touch your heart as it completely melts inside you at such a precious sight. “Look, Aemond.”

Said man sheaths his sword that was left on the ground and then walks to you. When he’s behind you also watching what you’re watching, you look back at him with a wobbly smile and happy tears in your eyes, catching him smile in awe and pride because now he doesn’t have to worry about his son getting bullied the same way he was because he didn’t have a dragon.

——

*LATER*

It’s never hard being quiet when you’re sneaking through the secret tunnels. You always make sure to take your shoes off so the heels don’t reveal your presence, while any jewelry that dangles and makes noise is tucked away. That’s easy to control, but natural occurrences like coughing or sneezing are always an aspect that terrifies you.

You'd be caught right away and there would be no excuse that could save you from any consequences.

It’s not to say you feel any urge to cough or sneeze, but it crosses your mind as you approach the window and listen to the council meeting.

“Fuck you,” is the first thing you hear Aegon spat. Graceful. “I told you we should’ve sent our dragons. And now look what’s happened. Daemon, of all people, has taken Harrenhal.”

Does he mean that in a good or bad way? Because if it’s bad then maybe he needs to really reveulate his uncle's capabilities. Not to toot Daemon's horn, but he did win the battle at the Stepstones, he knows more about war than Aegon does. It should not be surprising that Daemon took Harrenhal. He should be surprised that he has no army to defend his stance there.

“I give you a job, and now you just sit there,” Aegon’s voice rises with his frustration. “It's your fucking castle!”

“Well, that castle is more crippled than I am, Your Grace,” you hear Lord Larys defend himself, making Aegon scoff— “It’s like to drive Daemon to madness as he attempts to make use of it. It is beyond his faculties. It’s also penniless,” he adds to try and reassure Aegon. “As I happily control all of its gold. So, as Harrenhal saps Daemon’s resolve, the false Queen remains trapped on her Island and Ser Criston continues felling castles in the Crownlands.”

“Wh—” Aegon stammers whilst you hear his feet stomp about the room. “I need to be informed of these things if I’m to make informed rulings. I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies.”

“Harrenhal must wait,” Aemond interjects, causing a breath to escape past your lips. “Ser Criston is marching on Rook’s Rest.”

So he’s finally telling them.

“Rook’s Rest—a pathetic prize,” Aegon stammers. “I gave no such command—”

“The castle is small,” Aemond cuts Aegon off as you hear a chair creak before you recognize your husband's footsteps strike the floor. “Weakly defended and Lord Staunton sits on Rhaenyra’s council. After Cole smashes it, we’ll have Dragonstone effectively cut off by land. This war will not be won with dragons alone but with dragons flying behind armies of men.”

And that is why Aemond and Ser Criston have been secretly planning because Aemond is obviously the most strategic. Sure, his plans don’t favor your family, but you can still be proud that you married someone smart right?

“No! Have him turn about,” Aegon wastes his breath. “I want Harrenhal back.”

Aemond’s footsteps once again hit the ground and you imagine he’s returning to his seat while he responds. “Cole is already preparing his attack.”

Which is why after Aemond leaves you have to send word to your mother.

“Uh, how-how do you know this?” Aegon demands to know in a more perplexed way than upset.

“He sent word to me,” Aemond reveals half the truth as you hear him sit back down.

“To you?” Aegon asks, and you can’t help but detect a bit of hurt. “The two of you have been…plotting…without my authority?”

A second of silence passes before you hear Aemond fill the hall in Valyrian. “<You had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as holding court, choosing your sobriquet, and naming imbecilic lickspittles to our Kingsguard.>”

You can’t help but smirk at Aemond’s counter, knowing damn well that Aegon is only understanding part of that.

“Mm,” Aemond hums before he goes on as if trying to make Aegon look a fool. “<Do you have a wiser strategy, my King?>”

Oh, that rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it makes you tingle.

<If so, you should voice it to your council. We all wait your answer,>” Aemond finishes saying, making that smirk on your own face deepen, while a pride grows within you and grows exponentially as Aegon takes a moment to answer.

“<I can have to…” he responds in High Valyrian hesitantly. “Make a…war?>”

You cover your mouth to stifle your laugh.

Please! His own daughter probably knows more Valyrian than he does!

What a joke.

“Mm,” Aemond hums back, causing people around the table to clear their throats in response to Aegon’s failed attempt.

“Harrenhal is a useful morass,” Aemond continues in the common tongue. “It will keep Daemon well-occupied while we strengthen our host and weaken Rhaenyra’s support on the mainland. We will deal with it in the Riverlands in time. But right now. Rook’s Rest is an easy target and a worthy effort. Don't you agree, my King?”

You lean your ear towards the window and wait for him to agree. What else can he say? He had no other plan up his sleeve that could actually rebuttal Aemond’s plan, so all he can do is agree to that plan, and Aemond’s plan to go with Vhagar too.

Maybe this will teach him to be more strategic so he doesn’t get made a fool again, which is a bit pitiful, you do admit. If he were anyone else you would feel bad that his brother keeps upstaging him and planning behind his back, but he’s Aegon. You don’t feel pity or remorse, especially not after the way he treated Aemond not long ago in that brothel. Just like your husband, you relish in his torment.

If only you could witness more, yet Aemond is left satisfied and you depart from the shadows to return to your chambers before the meeting is done and Aemond accidentally discovers you.

And leaving at the time you did ends up being a lucky choice because the moment you sit down with your book, and pretend that's what you were doing, Aemond walks in.

“My love,” he greets and marches over to grab his sword right away before he finds his way to you on the ground keeping Aerion company.

“How was it?” You pretend to be clueless.

“As you would expect,” Aemond shares and crouches down to give Aerion some attention as the boy spends time on his tummy. “Aegon is fruitless when it comes to war, he’s bloodthirsty, thinking boldness is the better option. He’ll have all our dragons killed if we act out his plans.”

You close the book and tilt your head up to look at him. “Which is why it’s a good thing you sit at his table. How did he take the news?”

Aemond scoffs and a sly smirk plays on his lips. “What do you think?”

You sigh and guess. “Whiny and offended.”

Aemond nods before he snickers. “He tried speaking Valyrian, but he butchered it. He couldn’t even form a sentence.”

You laugh softly, but not as much as you would want knowing the actual context. Then again not like it matters because your amusement is quickly killed because you know you can’t escape the inevitable.

“Will you stay for dinner at least?” You try to make him linger behind.

Aemond lifts his eye off Aerion and catches the gloss in your eye that accompanies your speechless pleas, so he looks back at his son and gives you his answer. “I have indulged in my pleasures today. Rhaenyra might have already heard about our approach and may attack soon, I cannot risk leaving Cole defenseless.”

Your eyes flicker down and you sigh deeply with worry, pulling Aemond to his feet, and attaining his gaze that attracts you to look up and meet his gaze before you listen to your impulse and follow him up.

“I will return,” he reassures the worry creasing a frown on your features. “Sooner than you think.”

You close the empty space left between you and gently place your hands on his chest before you slowly trail them up his shoulders and bring them to a stop on his jaw, noting his armorless body left vulnerable to any deadly attack.

“I wish you would armor,” you express your concern.

Aemond’s gaze hardens and he grabs your elbow to remark. “Do you doubt me? Why is it that you never seem to trust my capabilities? I am met with doubt every time.”

Your eyebrows pinch together and your eyes harden as you’re confused by this outburst, but just as you want to argue, your anger fades when you realize that he doesn’t really understand where your doubt is coming from. So you sigh softly and look at him with a softening gaze that fills with admiration, and brings a teasing smile to your face.

“No matter how many times I tell you, you still don’t understand,” you quip and bring your hand down to smack his shoulder. “You may be smart with war plans, but there is something you do not seem to understand.” You scoff and your smile widens as your eyes perk up with bliss. “I do not doubt your skill Aemond, not on dragonback and not with a sword, I worry. It’s concern that I share because I love you.”

Aemond holds your gaze for a moment before he looks down as he loses that hardened demeanor brought by self-defense, and instead grows flustered.

“I do not wish to have your corpse returned to me,” you continue softly and try to find his eyes. “Vhagar may be the biggest dragon, she may have more battle experience than any other dragon, but she nor you are invincible. It takes one arrow, Aemond, raging fire, or a lucky bite from the other dragon's jaw and I am left a widow. Do you understand that?” You push your love into his heart, making him express nothing but love and awe in return as he finally lets you find his gaze.

“I just would feel more comforted if I knew something protected your face and your body. That’s all.” You say and slide your hand up to cup his cheek.

This time Aemond moves his hand up to meet yours so you can keep it pressed against his cheek and he can take in all the comfort you offer, while also making sure to stroke your knuckles with his thumb.

“I will be careful,” he assures you. “I won’t fall today. Nor tomorrow for that matter.”

You scoff in amusement and pull his face closer to you. “I need you to come back,” you express what torments your heart. “To me. I…can’t do this without you.”

Aemond’s breath catches and after a second he drags his hand up your arm while also raising the other one to grab your face with both and reassure you sweetly. “I will be well protected with Vhagar, I will return. I will be okay and I do not need armor to assure me of that. I will come back.”

Your breath trembles and you nod softly before you lean in and share your love with a deep kiss you linger in to keep him with you a bit longer, while also hoping that a deep kiss will convince him to stay. Yet he begins to part away.

But before your lips can be greeted with a cold abandonment he takes you in for a second kiss that’s shorter, but surpasses the passion that already fueled your first kiss.

Unfortunately, there’s no third indulgence, you do stay close and press your forehead against his to linger in each other's presence for a moment longer. Not letting anything penetrate this moment in time where all that exists is each other, your intertwined hearts, and your interconnected souls.

“I love you,” you break the silence after a while and caress his cheeks.

Aemond presses a kiss on the heel of your hand and whispers back. “I love you too. Come see me off?”

You scoff at the ridiculousness of his question. “Of course.”

After getting the last things he needs, and after bidding goodbye to Aerion, you walk with him all the way to the last gate, but no further because he doesn’t want you returning to the Red Keep alone.

“Astraea is allowed to roam the skies as freely as she wants while Vhagar and I are gone,” Aemond lets you know and unknowingly connects the missing link you had to help your mother. “If you mount her, don't approach the blockade or do anything reckless.”

“Reckless?” You feign innocence and touch your chest. “Me? Never.”

His lips tug to a smile before he goes serious and presses that. “I am being serious.”

You offer him an assuring nod and whisper. “I know. I will stay out of trouble.”

He hums and before he can leave, you reach for your neck to take off your necklace that holds the sigil of both of your houses, Velaryon and Targaryen. “I do want this back, it’s my favorite,” you say and grab his hand to give him your pendant. “For luck.”

“Your favor?” He teases with a smug smile.

You hum timidly and watch him snatch your hand before all he has is your haunting touches, and slowly brings it up to his thin pink lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles, causing your heart to skip a beat and a giggle to escape past your lips.

“Everything will be fine,” he adds in his soft voice that works like a trance. It keeps you under its spell now, but you know later it will wear off and your concern will drown you again.

“<Be careful,>” you tell him one more time, but this time you pass him a confident look also oozing with pride.

Aemond steals one more touch from your warm cheeks before leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours to steal one last sweet moment before he steps back and stands tall to show off the intimidating persona he’s built over the years, but never scares you. You see his confidence and his determination, but he does not intimidate you.

“<Goodbye, my love.>” He bids.

You offer him a last smile and whisper back so only he can hear. “Goodbye.”

You wave at him and linger where he left you behind to watch him get further and further away until not even his long shiny silver-white hair is visible. Now when you're sure that he won’t walk back for something he forgot you turn to head back inside, but the moment you do face the Redkeep, you catch Aegon looking out one of the windows of a high tower.

His eyes are unmistakably on you, letting you know he saw your last goodbye with his brother.

Was it with envy? Annoyance? Anger?

You don’t know, you can’t see the expression that paints his features from where you stand. Besides, when your eyes meet he turns away and abandons the window, letting you head inside.

At first, you walk at a normal pace, but when you’re inside you hurry back to your room to write that warning to your mother in High Valyrian so there’s less of a risk of someone unwanted reading your note. Which is unlikely because Astraea will carry your letter, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“<Ser Criston Cole is preparing his attack on Rook’s Rest. Vhagar and Aemond will be there too in hopes of catching one of your dragons by surprise, which means he will be leaving the city defenseless for today and tomorrow. I will write more soon.>

You don’t sign your name, nor do you address it to anyone out of caution. You keep the letter short even if you wish to write more. And before anyone can interrupt you, you rush off using the tunnels so no one can stop you, or see you and report your comings and goings to anyone who shouldn’t know.

Once you make it out to the cove behind the castle, your dragon is already waiting for you.

“<Good girl,>” you praise her and caress her snout. “<Now go to Dragonstone and deliver this message. Be careful.>”

Astraea brings her head down to let you attach the note to one of her long horns.

“<Now go,>”, you tell her and press your forehead against her before you step away and watch her fly off to Dragonstone, wishing that there wasn’t a raging war happening so you could go too without worry or fear.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“The powerful are powerless to someone aren’t they?” Helaena comments and leaves you pondering about the actual significance behind such a simple comment.

“Yes,” you muse and prop your elbows on the stone railing to rest your chin on your hands and admire the crimson blood that stands out like shining rubies on Astraea’s purple feet as her large claws puncture her prey while she drags their lifeless silver body with her.

You like to think that your family got your message, you went to see Astraea a few hours after she returned yesterday and neither the letter nor the ribbon was attached to her horn anymore. Do they have to send anything in return? No, but maybe they could send back a different colored ribbon or something small like a shell in your satchels hanging on her saddle. You looked and looked but it was all empty, so you were left hoping the letter did not fall in the water when she flew there.

You’ll have to let them know to send you some discreet message in return next time to let you know that they got your letter.

“Even the King's answer to someone…” you add to your forming thought. “They may be powerful, but that power can easily be taken by anyone really. They just need the right motivation.”

Helaena hums and her eyes then slide to watch you watching your dragon.

“How are you feeling Helaena?” You ask and turn your attention to her. “I haven’t asked today.”

“About?” She probes.

You push yourself up and carefully bring up what worries you about her. “Your boy. This war. You being Queen.”

Her chest raises high and when it goes back down she looks out at the horizon. “Well…being Queen comes with more attention, I can feel them all looking at me, waiting for me to do something. But I don’t want to. I don’t want them looking at me.”

“Hold your head up high,” you try to advise her sweetly. “Paint on a facade and they won’t really see you. Just worry about caring for your daughter, that’s all that matters.”

Helaena blinks and her eyes fall. You study her face closely to watch for any change in emotions, but she’s harder to read than her brothers, so you wait for her to give you her response.

“Alright.”

You offer her a kind smile and look back at the horizon past the window, coming out surprised when she continues to share what troubles her soul.

“And Jaehaerys,” she pauses and your eyes return to her. “My sadness isn’t as grand anymore. I miss him, but he’s not suffering anymore.”

You swallow back and can’t help but frown with pity and sorrow that you don’t hide so she knows it’s okay to be sad, that if she wants you can be sad with her.

Yet she puts on a brave face so all you can offer her is a faint smile.

“Daeron sent me a letter,” she shares with glee. “And he sent me a butterfly with it. It was dead of course, but I added it to my collection because I did not have it yet.”

“That’s nice of him. I would like to see it after we see the maester that is.”

She nods. “Of course.”

Silence follows but she doesn’t let it last. “Are you scared?” She asks back which is a general question, but you answer with what plagues you the most.

“Yes…I have a lot to lose,” you murmur and step back, making her wait for you to start walking forward to be able to follow at your side.

“But I know I must put my trust in them,” you add and fiddle with a starfish that decorates the golden chain around your waist. “They are strong in their way. I just…don’t want to lose anyone anymore. I don’t want to…end up alone.” Your voice breaks without warning.

“But,” Helaena’s parting lips echo down the lonely hall. “You won’t end alone.”

The corner of your lips form a quick smile and you can’t help but show it off to her. “I will have you that’s true—”

“No,” she cuts you off, and her eyebrows furrow as she seems to grow impatient. “But you won’t end up alone.”

Your smile disappears, and your anguish leaves with it, letting conflict push your eyebrows together, and part your lips as a small gasp leaves your mouth.

Helaena watches you and she can’t seem to get a hint of what you’re feeling, but her impatience to be heard gets lost.

“No?” You ask for reassurance even if a part of you warns you not to believe her simply out of self-protection, while the other part of you completely trusts what she just said.

“You,” she pauses and comes to a slow stop, making you stop, and bringing Ser Jason and her guards to a stop behind you. “You believe me?” She asks softly as she doesn’t see that same pitiful smile everyone offers her when she shares something ominous she needs them to understand.

“I believe you,” you throw all your trust in her and offer her a sweet smile.

Helaena’s gaze lingers on you as her thoughts swirl behind her eyes. “Okay,” she breathes out. “Thank you.”

You hum softly and continue down your path back to your chambers. “Why shouldn’t I? We are part of a special family, my favorite ancestor is Daenys the Dreamer, she’s the one who saved our house thanks to what she dreamt. And even still we follow the rule of men when it’s women who have saved us from doom.” You grumble and roll your eyes.

“Well, men—”

“No,” you cut her off and scold her. “Don't well men me. Women are just as capable as men. In ruling and combat if given the chance. And we are not afraid of blood…well some of us at least, because we bleed all the time. Do you see what I’m trying to get at?”

She shrugs lazily. “I suppose.”

You loll your head to the other side and click your tongue in disappointment.

“Anyway,” you drag out and clasp your hands together. “Sunfyre and Astraea were nuzzled against each other yesterday when I went to take her out. Isn’t that so cute?” You change the subject to a more lighthearted matter that doesn’t really catch her attention, but she still shares a comment nonetheless.

“I’m sure Astraea is happy to be out.”

You smile and nod. “Delighted. She has been spoiled beyond belief with her freedom, which makes it hard for both her and me when it comes to putting her in chains here.”

“I’m sure she knows it’s not because of ill intent,” she tries to comfort you.

You huff. “Yes, she knows that. She just…prefers her freedom.”

Before you know it you reach your chambers and Maester Orwyle is already inside preparing what he needs for your examination.

“Your Grace,” he greets Helaena first before he greets you. “Princess.”

You offer him a faint smile and a warm greeting. “Hello Maester, I hope you haven’t been waiting long. We were taking a stroll after breaking fast.”

He shakes his head and responds. “No, I got here a moment ago myself. Now will you tell me what you have been feeling so I can conclude to the right results.”

You sigh and watch Helaena take a seat on one of your couches before you let your eyes wander ahead as you tap into your memories. “Well, it has been a month since I last bled. I…started feeling more exhausted than usual a couple of weeks after the war started. I have been craving foods more than usual, and…well I have had more frequent headaches as well as stomach aches.”

The maester hums and he studies you before his gaze goes to Vanessa. “How has she eaten?”

Oh because he couldn’t ask you?!

“Not well, but it also varies, some days she tends to eat like normal, while on other days she hardly touches her food,” she happily obliges with sharing…well a lot of what you would have not shared.

“Ok, Princess, if I may ask you to change into a lighter gown so I can do your examination.” He orders while you pass Vanessa an annoyed glare she doesn’t fret to brush off as she pushes you behind a divider to help you undress.

“You did not have to share all of it. I eat,” you whisper sharply, and she turns you around harshly to untie the corset, while you pull the halter strap over your head.

“Define what eating is to you,” she rebuttals and you try to sass her.

“Eating is when you—”

“Prince Aemond would have my head if I did not reveal the truth to the maester. He already pressed me to feed you more,” she cuts you off and shares what you didn’t know.

“He shouldn’t have,” you mutter as you purse your lips together.

Vanessa sighs. “He's just worried…in his own way, that's all. And why shouldn’t he be? You haven’t told him.”

A perplexed look flickers on your face before all that paints your face is anguish. “I just…need to be sure first. I mean I need to hear it from a maester.”

“I understand,” her voice eases off the frustration. “Ok, it’s done.”

You let the gown fall to your feet before you step away from it and slip on a lighter gown to rejoin the maester out in your room.

“It does seem that you have lost weight,” The maester points out now that he takes a second look at you in a less busy gown. “But that may be grief as well. I’m certain it has not been easy.”

You scoff and gently shake your head as you make yourself to your bed, and he follows suit with gadgets that he uses inside you…

“Okay just try and hold still. We have done this before so you remember the procedure, right?”

You gulp and offer him a breathless response that gives him the okay to proceed and examine you carefully so as to not miss something, or diagnose you with the opposite of what you may have.

Like he said you have gone through this before, but it still is quite uncomfortable. You get lost on the ceiling above you and wait for him to stop before you move so he can press your belly with his fingers, and also feel your breasts to check if they are tender.

Once his quiet examination is done he steps back from your bed and stands formally before he finally addresses your anticipation. “Congratulations Princess, you are indeed with child.”

It’s meant to be a happy moment, but you’re tormented by anguish as the truth is finally proven and you can no longer hope that it's all some silly mind game played by all your troubled emotions.

Now…the possibility of your passionate night with Cregan resulting in a joyous bundle is more real. Then again you hide behind the hope that one night did not lead to a child. You convince yourself that Aemond is the father because it is true, your fear is just wicked and playing with you.

“Twins?” You ask and he blinks with surprise before he nods hesitantly as if surprised that you know what isn’t meant to be obvious yet.

“Yes…there are two babes. Two different placentas.”

“I told you,” Helaena blurts over the couch before she returns her attention to the books you have spread all over the couches since Aemond has his map on the small table.

“But,” he adds and your heart drops. “I would like to keep a closer eye on you. It seems one babe is smaller than the other.”

You drag yourself to the edge of the bed and press him for more. “Wh-what does that mean? Will they be okay?”

Maester Orwyle lets out a deep breath before he makes your heart hurt with his honesty. “I cannot say for certain, that’s why it’s important for you to eat princess. If you are not healthy and strong the babes will not be. This time you will have to eat for three which will take that much more energy.”

“I understand,” you whisper your comprehension.

“Like I said I will come and check on you more often. I want to make sure that the babes are growing as they should.”

You nod and he bows his head before he offers you one more congratulations and then turns to talk to Vanessa about teas and different foods that you should and shouldn’t eat. And before he left he did not forget to tell you to share your news with Aemond, as if he didn’t already plan to do it himself because apparently you are incapable of controlling your own life.

Regardless, now you know. Now there’s no use hoping you’re simply overthinking and that Helaena’s head is too lost in the clouds, she was right, and you are with child. You are going to have twins with Aemond.

Okay…maybe that prospect does excite you more than you thought. You might have your own Daenys soon, and maybe another girl or more boys!

Whatever they may turn out to be your worry turns to overwhelming bliss you can hardly contain. If only Aemond was here to tell him, but he’s too far and you would be too reckless to fly to him just to share the news.

You have half the mind to go, but that would be oh-so stupid. You’ll have to wait and maybe think of baby names?

Or embroider a nice cover? You are terrible at sewing, but you have the urge to.

Maybe you’ll sing to them and Aerion! You would sing to Aerion when he was in your belly all the time and he would kick like crazy when he got older because of it.

So yes! That’s what you’ll do! They may be too small now to hear, but you need to do something that will release your excitement. Besides you can take advantage and learn more of the songs and ballads that are in the book Aemond gave you.

They’re all so beautiful and full of rich stories. And as sad as some are, knowing that these songs were sung by people in Valyria does delight you as well as make you feel honored that you now get to know them, sing them, and cherish them. It makes it easy to get lost in the songs and have the day pass. Before you know it, noon has already crept in.

The sun is still high so the entire day didn’t pass under you. The only reason you do break your attention from your book is because a persistent knock raps on the door.

Is it Aemond?!

You beam at the possibility.

“Come!” You welcome the visitor as you throw the book on the couch and stand up to spin and face the door.

Nevertheless, who comes in isn’t your tall long-haired husband, it’s his brother, Aegon.

“Your Grace,” you mumble in confusion and look him up and down as you note that he looks smaller than usual in such historic armor that Aegon the Conqueror once wore.

“Niece,” he greets and flashes you a smile before he closes the door behind his guards.

“Aemond is not here,” you state the obvious even if the hairs on the back of your neck rise as they warn you that he’s not looking for your husband.

His heavy footsteps thud as he begins to make his way toward you with a mischievous glint in his eyes that deepens that smirk on his face.

“Yes, I know of my brother's comings and goings.” He says, causing fear to strike your heart. “But I am not here for him.”

You glance at his Kingsguard for help, but you should have known better, they look away, and at that very moment they let you know that you’re alone and defenseless against whatever antics creep into Aegon’s mind.

“Then why are you here? In armor.”

He shrugs. “I am going to battle. Obviously,” he chuckles and his smirk turns to a grin.

You see that he’s past the couches so you continue to back away until you’re behind a couch. “That seems rather reckless. You are King—”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he spats and his grin falls back to a smirk that keeps that mischievous outward.

“Why are you here Aegon?” You ask again and he keeps making his way toward you, not caring that you’re obviously trying to keep your distance.

He huffs. “I’m here for your favor,” he finally reveals and you swallow thickly and run into a chair.

“I already gave it to Aemond,” you try to keep Aegon away. “And you have a wife. Ask for her favor.”

He lets out a sigh. “It's not the Queen's favor I desire,” he quickly brushes you off and hops over the living area to hurry over and trap you against the chair so you cannot keep running away.

“It’s yours,” he whispers and leans his face closer to you, letting his strong wine breath whaff all over you which causes you to try and slide away, but he throws his hand out to grab the chair and block your exit.

“Aemond—”

“Is not here,” he cuts you off again and uses his other hand to start reaching out for your arm, but you grab your golden waist belt to avoid his incoming touch.

“Aegon,” you hiss. “Leave.”

“After a kiss goodbye hm?”

You shake your head and rebuttals by throwing his hand around your arm, but he doesn't pull you anywhere, he just grabs your arm and makes you feel utterly powerless. You hold so much battle knowledge, you know how to make someone unhand you, you can sweep someone off their feet, and so much more, but at this very moment with his hand on your arm and his wine breath unfurling over your cheek, you can’t move a muscle.

“Aegon,” you try to call him off you again, but his hold loosens and the tip of his fingers travel to your hips.

“Stop,” you mutter with a quivering lip. “Please,” your voice trembles.

He spares you a glance before he tilts his face to the side to force you to kiss his cheek first.

You don’t want to, you want to push him away, to scream, but he won’t move and you can’t find the strength; it hides like a coward under Aegon’s presence. Thus you’re left with no choice, you pucker your lips and lean your face forward to press a light kiss on his cheek so it can make him leave faster, feeling disgust swirling what little you have in your stomach.

When you pull back you expect him to back away and leave you alone, but his hand presses against your hip and you feel the warmth of his hand start to travel up.

“Aegon stop it,” you sneer shakily.

Said man’s hungry eyes start to lower to steal a glance at your chest exposed by the v-neck your bodice was designed with.

“Aegon,” you call out desperately, making him find your gaze and smile.

“Wish me good luck,” he says in return.

You swallow back nervously and part your lips, but before you can utter a word the doors get thrown open, pulling your eyes to the welcoming visitor, and seeing Ser Jason with his sword halfway out of his sheath, and his face hardened.

“Ser,” you call out with relief.

Aegon looks over his shoulder and his smile dies.

“Your Grace,” Ser Jason greets coldly without letting his sword go but making Aegon’s kingsguard grab their own swords to prepare for an attack.

“Just in need of my niece's favor,” Aegon is quick to throw out an excuse. “Ser.”

Aegon proceeds to snap his head back around to steal one more glimpse at you before he slides his hand off your body, letting you finally breathe when he backs away and gives you his back.

Even then, though, as he's leaving he makes sure to take his sweet time more so to taunt you that he has power over you now.

“Ser,” Aegon directs at Ser Jason with a taunting smirk that he makes sure is the last thing you see before he disappears down the corridor, knocking out any sort of confidence you could show off to Ser Jason as he remains there past your doors.

“Th-thank you,” you clear your throat and fight the urge to cry as you’re left defeated and feeling powerless. “Ser. For coming to my aid.”

Ser Jason finally lets his sword fall back in his sheath and his blue eyes soften to pity as he watches you fight back your tears.

He wants to ask if you’re okay, but he also knows that would be a stupid question considering he can see you shaking, and hears you heaving.

“Princess,” he whispers and you pull your eyes up to give him your attention through a teary gaze.

“I’m—I’m okay, Ser” you stammer and nod even if you feel violated.

Ser Jason whispers his comprehension, but rather than walking out and standing guard outside your doors, he steps further inside and comes to a stop shortly after to watch you with a certain conflict battling in his deep blue eyes, a conflict that you pick up on before you turn away and clutch onto the chair to try and calm yourself down after something you feared the most happened.

You tried so hard, but you were utterly useless. You couldn’t move a muscle, or find the right thing to say back. You were nothing at that moment but something else he can now order around.

You feel so stupid, so weak, and—

“Princess,” Ser Jason calls out and now you hear that he’s closer than before.

“Ser,” you breathe out and turn around, seeing at that moment that your eyes fall on him, that his eyes express his pity while also trying to offer you the comfort you need the most.

“You…you are not alone,” he says and you can’t help it, you break down and all you want is your mother or Cregan…

He was always there when you felt the most anguished without a fault.

But he can’t be here, nor can you go to your mother. And even Aemond is gone to feed his hunger for battle, leaving only your sworn protector.

“Okay,” you whisper with relief and he slowly starts moving toward you with his hand slowly rising off his side in an attempt to offer you a comforting touch.

Albeit before he can even get near, your eyes find Lord Larys limping toward your open doors, causing you to drop your head to hide your tears.

Not like it was a fruitful act, the Lord takes note of your anguish.

“Lord Larys,” you address his presence, making Ser Jason almost throw himself back as he backs away from you so the Lord doesn’t get the wrong idea.

“Princess,” the lord greets in return. “Forgive my intrusion. I was coming to pay you a visit and I came across an open door.”

You shake your head to dismiss his apology. “Do not worry about it, Lord. You are welcome.”

You glance up at him and catch an exchange of looks between Lord Larys and Ser Jason before your sworn protector walks out of the room in a hurry, leaving Lord Larys and you alone in the confinements of your chambers.

“Please take a seat,” you point to your table. “I would offer a seat in front of the fire, but I’m ashamed to say Aemond and I have a mess.”

Lord Larys shakes his head. “It’s quite alright,” he reassures you and limps toward the table to take a seat on a wooden chair.

You turn to walk towards the flagon of water and wine so he won’t see the tears that leave your eyes red.

“Water? Wine?” You offer as you wipe your cheeks and draw in a deep breath.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

You nod in comprehension and serve yourself some water before you turn and face the Lord in hopes he will reveal what brought him here.

“I hope you have found yourself well, a gaze stuck between two sides must be heavy on the heart,” he says.

You bring your gaze down to watch the water within the golden goblet. “I find myself quite well,” you lie with a smile you direct at the Lord. “It was difficult at first, but now…my conflict has been resolved, and the only weight I carry is the worry for my husband and son's safety.”

He hums and you notice him dig his hand in his pocket as he interjects. “As you should be, with Prince Daemon on a path of revenge, who knows what else he might do.”

Your gaze narrows to a glare for a brief second before you take a small sip and take a seat across from him.

“I have been meaning to thank you for telling me about Prince Aemond’s whereabouts when I was gone,” you address the matter and set your cup down, but keep your fingers around the neck of the goblet. “Telling the truth really helped us reconcile.”

The Lord brings a fisted hand up to hang over his cane while he offers you a faint smile. “I’m gladdened. It’s important that the realm sees the picture of unity among the royal family. Now more than ever.”

You scoff. “They need food. Not a glimpse at our marriage, they could care less about us whilst they’re starving,” you rebuttal bitterly and take a glance out the balcony.

“That’s easier said than done with the blockade cutting off any transport of food,” he adds, making you return your gaze to him.

“If only there could be something done about it,” you mumble bitterly and leave out the fact that the crown could spare food, or send a dragon to break that blockade.

“Maybe you can,” he suggests, piquing your interest. “You have Prince Aemond’s ear, and he has a seat upon the council. You could ask him to give an idea to the council.”

You tap the neck of the goblet as you think about what he just said. Which is honestly not a bad idea, but would they even agree to offer any help?

Doubtful.

You could bring it up nonetheless. Maybe.

“That is a great idea, I might do exactly that,” you don’t hesitate to give Lord Larys his props.

Lord Larys bows his head to offer you his thanks before he moves his fisted hand and pushes it over the table. “I did come to give you this…back.”

You slowly sit up straighter and press your hands on the table as you watch him put down a small brown wooden box on the table.

“It seems you lost it recently,” he pauses and pushes the box toward you with the tip of his finger, causing curiosity to tug the corner of your lips to a faint smile.

“…in the North.” He finishes and your hand freezes just as you’re reaching for the box.

At first, you were completely in the dark about what he was reeling up to, but now that he pulls the truth out of the murky waters, you start to realize what the box might hold, and the insinuation he might have as bait.

And alas, when you grab the box and bring it toward you to open it, you see exactly what you suspected; the sapphire ring you had lost in Castle Black. The ring Aemond had gifted you when you first returned from the North. The ring you dropped as you were kissing Cregan.

“It was brought to me from Winterfell,” Lord Larys adds with a certain change in his tone of voice. “It seems someone found it in the bed chambers of the Warden of the North.”

So the ring was given back to Cregan. That’s…nice.

“Any idea why the Lord would have such a meaningful ring in his chambers?” Lord Larys presses, and you start to hear it, the insinuation he does not directly say.

“I had lost it,” you try not to express your horror and close the box to hold Lord Larys' gaze without fear. “He obviously found it. Are you suggesting Lord Stark stole from me?”

Lord Larys scoffs in amusement and shakes his head. “No, I could not see Lord Stark doing something so below him. Albeit it seems his honor does dwindle when it comes to a much more valuable Gem of the Sea.”

The nonchalance you wore falls, but you don’t break. You are not stupid either, you know who Lord Larys is referencing when he brings “Gem of the Sea.”, but you do not let him bait you, nor do you find yourself powerless like when Aegon was here moments ago. What is Lord Larys?

He’s no King. No Warden, no knight, he only holds the title of Lord because his family has not tried to fight him for the title and lands, and the other part of his family is dead. He’s not fearsome, he’s a man with a club foot.

You will not cower behind a shadow that cannot even overshadow yours.

“Lord Larys,” you feign a laugh and open the box to pull the ring out. “Answer me this…do you take me for a fool?”

Lord Larys sputters and ends up saying nothing after he did not expect you to rebuttal as fearless as you did.

“I know what you are insinuating,” you continue and slide the sapphire ring back on your ring finger. “And it really is a nasty thing,” you roll out and snap your eyes up to look at the disbelief he’s trying to wipe off.

“But just so we are on the same page, tell me what exactly you are referring to,” you lull out and bat your eyelashes while a large winged shadow suddenly flies past the windows before a chitter breaks in the sky, and a growl soon follows.

He nor you need to look out to know it’s your dragon, it’s why he swallows back nervously and parts his lips, but you interrupt him because you know a bunch of shit was going to come out of his mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” you mutter with your voice losing that sweet honey and growing intimidating. “Did you know that rats are easy to kill here? Be that with traps, poison, or corner them where they nest and burn them.”

A loud roar rattles the room and a smirk begins to grow on your face, making Lord Larys clutch onto his cane and lean back against the chair.

“Come at me with that shit again, or threats and some bait to try and control me,” you spat. “And I will not need someone to get their hands dirty for me, my Lord. I enjoy chasing and catching my own prey.” You giggle. “It’s exhilarating. And I bet seeing how fast you run will be quite amusing.”

You stand up from your chair and point to the door. “There’s the door my Lord. It was,” you pause and drag out a deep breath before you finish. “Refreshing speaking with you. Come again.”

Lord Larys gets up from his chair and bows his head before he mutters his goodbye. “Princess.”

You raise your nose in the air as you watch him leave between your lashes.

“Oh,” you add as he’s making his way out. “And if I hear that wicked rumor spread about, I know who to look for, so don’t worry trying to hide, my Astraea is a great tracker.”

Lord Larys doesn’t add anything in return, he walks out in defeat. It’s only once the doors close behind him, and you’re enveloped in silence that you let out a deep and exhausted breath.

Having Jacaerys and a stranger find out is completely different, your brother wouldn’t out you to anyone, or spread your secret like a plague, but a stranger would so you had to show your teeth. You had to be threatening, which is new! It’s such a new feeling, but…it’s such a rush seeing people squirm in fear under you!

You can’t say you dislike having that power or any power at all for that matter. You can’t say you dislike showing it either, you want to relish in it. You want to bear it proudly.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“And…” you trail off and lower the wooden bow your hands embrace to watch the sharp metal arrow puncture the bullseye. “That’s how you do it.”

You spin on your heels and stretch your arms out like a dragon spreads its wings.

“Eagle eye,” Ser Jason mocks, and you chuckle and jump up to go and collect another arrow from your satchel.

“I mean that—” Ser Jason begins to stumble over his words as he realizes he was perhaps too bold, so you cut him off.

“Hush, it’s okay. And! Actually, my friend Lady Arra Norrey, Lord Stark’s wife, used to call me that because well…at first I was not a good shot.” You muse with a growing smile. “Do you mean it mockingly, Ser?” You shoot him a pointed look that makes him squirm and ends up making you grin. “I’m messing with you Ser.”

He scoffs and lets the tension fall from his shoulders.

“Now watch this,” you keep his attention on you as you turn on your heels and position your arrow before you break into a jog and bring your aim up.

Yet just before you can shoot your arrow, in the flash of a second, you swiftly spin on your heels and hastily aim at the third dragon head on an ugly green banner, before you let the arrow fly.

The arrow whizzes through the air rapidly, and the sharp arrowhead rips through the third dragon right in the beady eye.

“Fantastic!” Ser Jason praises you as he claps for your wickedly good shot.

You bow again as you laugh with glee.

“Lucky shot, but my ego will grow nonetheless,” you tease as you walk over to grab another arrow.

Albeit just as you take the arrow and turn to walk to your spot a guard walks over and clears his throat to let you know he means to talk to you. “Princess, Vhagar is approaching the city.”

A smile breaks on your face and you let the arrow and bow go to pick up your skirts and run through barriers of space thinking of no one else but Aemond, the cure to your solitude, and the warmth that left you in the cold.

Ser Jason is quick to follow after you in a hurry to make sure nothing happens to you whilst you run from courtyard to courtyard and swerve busybodies. When you reach the last gate that leads to the city you come to a stop and he doesn’t fail to come to a stop a few paces behind, making sure he never lets you out of his sight as you wait for your husband to appear down the cobble street, and slightly worrying of what he will do if your beloved husband doesn’t return alive.

It’s an outrageous thought, but he plans ahead just in case. Plus he can’t help but plan ahead. It’s how his mind works.

Nevertheless, his relentless planning is for naught because from one moment to another your fidgeting hands relax, the corner of your lips slowly rise, and your searching eyes lock on him, your husband, your Aemond.

From afar he seems unharmed, but that’s something you still need to make sure of before you truly thank the gods for his return.

Yet checking for his well-being is not what pushes you away from your spot, when his eye finds you just outside the gate your breath catches as you’re riddled with relief over the fact that he’s walking to you on his own two feet and not lifeless on a carriage.

All while Aemond himself comes to a stop, not because he’s overcome with relief that you’re alive, he never feared for your death whilst you stayed in the Red Keep. He freezes and is riddled with disbelief because no matter what, he did not expect you to be waiting for him past the gates of the Red Keep. He expected to find you in your chambers even if he knows how much your excitement can drive you.

And he's not thinking that catching you outside the Red Keep gates bothers him, his heart skips a beat as he realizes that you’re not some fever dream, you’re there, beaming at him before you break into a sprint to rip through barriers of space just to join together in a clashing embrace.

“Aemond,” you chuckle and cry with joy.

Said man is still caught by surprise for a second so he remains stiff before he melts in your warmth and returns your embrace with a much tighter hold that assures you that it's really him.

“I was worried,” you share softly against his neck.

Aemond caresses the back of your head and nuzzles his nose against your neck, letting himself display his affection for you around bypassers because he wants people to know that he is loved and that he loves someone dearly.

“I’m alright. I told you, didn't I?” He whispers and you can't help but hold him tighter as his voice travels in your ears.

“I will always worry,” you mumble before you pull back and grab his arms to look him up and down to check for any injuries. When you find nothing but soot and his messy hair your heart jolts nervously, but you also feel relief wash over another part of you as you reassure yourself that he came back to you in one piece.

“Nothing hurts?” You still ask him and slide your hands down to grab ahold of his. “Vhagar?”

His eye falls on the ground and he hides a timid smile. “No, I’m fine. I did not get hurt. And Vhagar is fine too.” He says quietly.

You study him one more time before you raise your hands to grab his face. You don’t say anything, nor does he. Aemond just slowly brings his eye up and looks at you with admiration while you watch him completely enamored. At that moment, without the need of opening your mouths, expressing how much you love each other, and how much this time apart was like a strain on the heart. It ached you both.

You also keep expressing how glad you are that he’s back, but it’s that twinkle that joy brings to your eyes that makes his jaw clench, and a deep breath to furl through his nose as he remembers the news he bears, news that will break your heart.

“Uh, I did not have time to warn you, but you must have seen,” you interject and fall on his side to hook your arm around his and head back to the safety of the Red Keep. “Aegon and Sunfyre went to Rook’s Rest.”

Aemond nods and rolls his eye in annoyance. “Yes, we unfortunately crossed paths.”

Your hand stiffens around his arm as you remember Aegon’s visit before he left. “Where is his Grace?” You mutter.

Aemond answers with silence for a moment before he gives you his response. “Aegon got hurt during battle.”

The corner of your lips threaten to pull into a happy smile, but you manage to feign worry. “What? How?”

Aemond stops and slips his arm away, but makes sure not to let go. He grabs a hold of one hand, while he uses his other hand to grab your shoulder.

“<Aegon,” he says in a High Valyrian accent before he continues in the same language. “Was fighting another dragon.>”

You hold his gaze and try to find his concern or pity, but rather than finding any flicker of worry, you catch a darkness dancing in his blue eye.

“<And the dragon burned him,” Aemond continues to add stiffly. “It was…a foolish act on his part to go to battle and challenge the dragon, but that act was repaid with dragon fire and broken bones.>”

You can’t pretend to be worried, you don’t care if he’s hurt or close to death. If you could you would clap and celebrate, but you hold it all back behind a shocked expression that raises your eyebrows and parts your lips.

“<What…” you hesitate as the other part of you that had begun to worry slowly starts to take over you. “…Dragon was it?>”

Aemond doesn’t answer right away, he keeps holding your gaze, and the corner of his lips twitch up, while that darkness brings a malicious gleam to his eye that you don’t miss.

It’s not difficult to read into these small expressions, for you at least. For anyone else who doesn’t really know Aemond beyond the facade he puts up wouldn’t realize the truth he masks behind that lie, but you do. You see it clear as day. Is it because he let you read him? Or because you know his soul?

Both, but regardless, you know it was no other dragon that brought Aegon down. Not after Aegon humiliated Aemond at that brothel, not after knowing the tension between the brothers, the pranks Aemond never forgave. It was Aemond and Vhagar. You don’t need him to put it in simple words for you to know.

Nor do you care that it was him. You’re actually proud it was him, and he sees that pride, just like he also reads your speechless praise between your lips twitching up and that gleam in your eye.

What a cruel pair you make huh?

“It was Meleys,” Aemond finishes sharing in the common tongue, bringing that relief and that pride to an end as the worry that only captured a part of you now takes over you completely.

“Meleys?” You mumble and clutch onto his hand while your eyelashes bat frantically as you try to find the reason why she would be there. You warned them. You sent it early so they’d know!

“Yes,” Aemond mutters and brings down the hand he had on your shoulder to grab your hand. “Listen to me...”

He says it. He shares the cruel truth and it all comes crashing down.

You don’t want to accept it at first, you can’t accept what came out of him, but he wouldn’t lie about it. What reason was there to lie about your grandmother dying along with her dragon Meleys?

Yet you want it to be a lie. You want it to be a cruel jest.

“Please,” you beg in a quivering voice. “Do not lie.”

Aemond doesn’t respond, he swallows back nervously and that only helps to reaffirm the truth; your grandmother Rhaenys is dead. She’s gone and so is Meleys.

Your grandmother…is gone. Someone else is dead, and you don’t need to ask who it was, you see that victory in his eye. It was Aemond again.

But right now that’s not what occupies your mind, right now all you know is grief once again. Agonizing, and heart-tearing grief.

It doesn’t let you breathe, it doesn’t let you think of nothing else but the pain. There’s so much pain.

You can’t breathe, it all weighs down on you. You want to be numb to it to not feel a thing, but you feel it all in all its glory.

“No,” you croak and feel streaks of tears rush down your face. “No,” you cry under your breath. “Please no.”

Aemond tries to pull you into an embrace, but you push yourself away and try to catch your breath, you try to take it all in to try and calm yourself down. However, your blood is rushing in your ears, making everything inside you hectic, making the noises around you louder than they are, and making the world move faster than it is which disorientates you.

You don’t know where you are, that knowledge is lost. All you know is the pain and the deep need to see your grandmother again. You want to see her one more time. You want to hold her longer. You don’t want her to be gone forever.

“Please,” you beg under your breath. “Help me.”

She told you that if you needed help to let her know, to tell her. You’re telling her now, you want her help now. You need it like you need to breathe.

But it won’t come, she won’t come to your aide. She won’t embrace you, or tell you that it will all be fine, she’s gone, and you can’t breathe because of it...

Everything around you begins to spin, and you start to feel lightheaded. You want to keep yourself stable, but you can’t find a wall. You actually stumble and the world that was once spinning around you stops, but only because a darkness begins to consume you.

You try to call for help, but your lips part and nothing comes out. You do however hear another voice, but it doesn’t belong to you, as you get swallowed by the darkness you recognize Ser Jason’s panicked voice. “Princess!”

Yet it’s not him who catches you, you know that much. The last thing you see is clear, it’s Aemond’s worried face above yours...

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- You reacting to Aegon is how Daemon thought Rhaenyra would react to Blood and Cheese

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @callsignwidow @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips

[misguidedasgardian]

The hour of the Wolf (XII)

XII. The Storm that is brewing

MASTERLIST

Summary:It was the calm before the storm

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, TONGUE-LOSING, blood, death of a horsie, a tourney and all the violence that comes with it, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, birth, might miss some warnings 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4 k 

Notes: Alright, you know what? This is going to get ugly, I’m a sucker for happy endings but I want to make this story as “real” as it can be, and if ASOIAF is known for something… is that nobody is safe, and this isn’t your usual fairytale. Sorry for the long wait but it took me a WHILE to figure out where I wanted this story to go, and how I wanted it to end, and from how it began. I felt like I drifted too much, too ooc, so… here.

Aerion was fuzzy, it was the noise, but still, you did not want to part from him, and besides, this entire thing was for him.

A tournament had started, two moons later, knights and houses from all over the continent had come to enjoy whole weeks of celebrations for the birth of your child. 

You kept gazing back at him, with the nannies in the corner of the royal box, as knights fought to death in the field in front of you. This didn’t amuse you anymore and you wondered why they ever did. After the war, you didn’t really want to see more violence, more blood, or more death.

But nobody died yet so you were hopeful 

“Papa! look! that knight has a pointy spear, more like the others”, pointed Rickon, he amazed you more and more each day, he was so smart, nothing ever escaped his sharp little eyes. 

But soon the relaxing environment turned sour, as the spokesman presented the next joust

“Ser Daario Blackwood wished to face Ser Jonos Bracken”, you frowned as you looked around and nobody was cheering

Who organized this?

“This cannot happen”, you whispered to Cregan by your side, who frowned, “who organized this?”

Worrying whispers took over the bleachers as the people made nervous remarks. Everybody knew the bloody story between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, they would make any excuse to shed each other’s blood.

Ser Daario approached the royal box.

“Your Grace, my queen”, he offered with a big smile, putting up the visor of his helmet. “If you do me the huge honor, of granting me your favor for this joust, ill surely assure it”, he said with a big smile.

“Of course”, you offered him, throwing through the end of his spear your flower crown, it made from Crepe Myrtle leaves, which look almost black, with red roses and ears of wheat that looked golden.

“Thank you, your most gracious Lady”, he said confidently

Ser Jonos Bracken rode his horse towards it to, this time, he stopped in front of Jaehaera

“If her grace would honor me”, it was odd, to say the least, she was small, and the way he referred to her made your skin crawl. Jaehaera, oblivious to it all and the way he referred to her, she was a child, but she shouldn’t be greeted as “your grace”

She threw her flower crown at him with a soft smile and twinkly eyes, she reminded you so much of Helaena it made your chest tighten.

“Thank you, princess”, said Lord Bracken.

Then both rode to the opposite sides of the tilt

At the signal, both spurred their horses, which neighed nervously and started galloping angrily against one another on each side of the wooden palisade. They met in a horrifying crash of wood, meat and metal.

It was the Bracken who had the point of his spear sharpened and without the protection of the metal point, and when they collided, people screamed as they saw the bloody outcome.

His spear failed at the last second, instead landing on the poor Backwood’s horse, the poor thing screeched in agony. Cregan was quick to distract the children as your eyes couldn’t be taken out of the bloody scene.

The Blackwood got out of his dying mount and unsheathed his sword in a violent movement. The Bracken was quick to release his weapon and do the same

“You are an embarrassment Bracken!”, you heard him scream, “Craven!”, he met his sword with a clash, “Treacherous!”, another swing, “Cunt!”

But the Bracken was quicker, pushing him and threatening him with his sword. You jumped out of your seat and that is when the whole stadium seemed to go quiet.

The Bracken stood tall with the point of his sword in the Blackwood's neck. 

“For the one true King of the seven Kingdom, and his heir! princess Jaehaera Targaryen!”, everyone gasped and you just looked at him, straight in the eye.

Blackwood snapped out of the floor, taking advantage of the distraction, he kicked into his legs making him trip and fall, he did as well, he sliced his leg, and when he was back on his feet, he did the same as he had done him, he put the point of his sword in his neck. 

“Your grace?”, he asked, “should I slay this traitor’s neck?”, he asked loudly. You heard the children being taken out of the box by the Queensguard.

“Let’s not sully this day with death”, you said loudly, “a tongue I think, sends a better message”, you offered. He did not seem pleased, but obliged. 

He took out his tongue in front of everyone

And then they cheered as he raised it in the air.

But there was a part of the public who didn’t applaud, just watched the screaming Bracken on the floor with frowns and disgust.

And you didn’t know what to make of it.

You didn’t know what to feel, or if you should feel anything at all when the joust continued, you couldn’t let it bother you, not in front of the most important families of the realm who had come to celebrate ‘a new beginning’, allegedly. You had to show yourself strong, and that is exactly what you did.

You did not look at Cregan for the remainder of the event, you loved him, he was your husband, but you were the Queen, and you couldn’t be seen as the young girl -that you were- , looking at her husband for approval in front of any trouble that comes your way.

Although he grabbed your hand and squeezed it, in sign of strength.

And you were thankful for that. 

The Blackwood was all too happy to continue jousting, invigorated by the Bracken blood you let him spill. The Blackwoods were unhinged but they were loyal to you, and after the situation with Alysanne Blackwood, but everything seemed fine. You wanted to make them an offer of marriage soon, they were key in the victory to the Blacks.

“Ser Abelar Hightower”, out of nowhere, came a knight dressed in all green, with silver marking, a whole tower in the top of his helm, as he wasn’t on the list apparently.

And nobody in the capital had heard anything from the HIghtowers since before Aerion was born, so probably half a year now.

This was the younger brother of the clown that appeared before you when you held audiences 

“The Queen was requesting the Hightower presence!”, he said loudly, in a tone you didn’t appreciate, “so I came here to ease her worries”

Well, he didn’t, he faced Blackwood, your personal knight, carrying your favor. 

He jousted against him, and he threw him off of his horse in the first assault, he was alive, but barely as they took him out in a made up bed. 

And he kept charging at your knights, and winning, and winning yet again. 

Then he rode back right in front of your box

“You grace”, he said, taking out the helm. He was nothing like his weak brother. This man was tall and broad as a log, handsome. “I’m here to ease your concerns, and worries, there is no danger to expect from us”, he said, again, the message meant well, the issue was his tone, he was mocking you, “after you emptied out coffers, my Queen, we were forced to cut the tree a little thinner, if you get my meaning”, he said simply

“I do not”, you said back, “but again, this is hardly the time and place”, you said 

“We, the Hightowers, got nothing to hide”, he said, sporting a wide, mocking, grin, “we will always serve the House of the Dragon, and the rightful heir”, he said then, and that sparked your interest

“And who that might be? in your eyes?”, asked Cregan, as he stood from his seat, you had missed the fact that he was angrier than you.

He always got particularly in front of treachery and traitors, he took the capital without a single drop of blood, driven by justice and vengeance. And now he stood again in front of you, like the man who had taken King’s Landing in your name

In your late mother’s name.

“Well, the Queen of course!”, he said, “and the next in line, Prince Aegon and Princess Jaehaera”, there it was

It was a complicated situation, as you found the eyes of the mortified lady Tyrell of the Vale, who had attended the celebration in the Reach’s name, and representing her son. She seemed frightened of what was happening, no in any way shape or form what she desired out of her Kingdom.

But still, the Hightowers remained one of the most powerful houses in the realm. Because of where they stood… the oldest city in the seven Kingdoms, the peak of light and wisdom

“The Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne is Aerion”, said Cregan, “of House Targaryen and Stark, a son of Ice and Fire”, he said firmly, “you might not have heard”

The knight only smiled and nodded, hsi auburn hair reminded you of Alicent

Soon, your son’s cry filled the air and he seemed to have put everything back in order, as chatter spread all over the stadium and noises began filling the air.

“Your grace”, called one of the midwives, you looked back at him with a fond smile

“Take him back to the Red Keep”, you allowed, as you had still tourneys to watch, “Ser Erryk”, you called, he nodded and escorted them back to the castle.

But you yourself couldn’t hold on for much longer.

The night found you in the bowels of the Red Keep

You lit up the candles underneath Balerion’s skull, where you tended to pray before Cregan took the city, before everything was… alright.

“Ao teptan nyke skoros nyke eptan hen ao”, [You gave me what I asked of you], you whispered, ”ao ossēntan ñuha qrinuntyssy, se isse pālegon nyke teptan ao mirri nykēla”, [You slayed my enemies, and in turn I gave you some myself], “ao teptan nyke ñuha dārion”, [You gave me my kingdom], “sir iksan asking syt kustikāne naejot gaomagon ziry”, [Now I’m asking for strength to keep it]

“Tepagon nyke kustikāne naejot mīsagon ñuha tresy”, you begged, you closed your eyes and focused your energy, your mind, your senses into this moment, this silent moment

Nobody ever taught you how to pray to the Gods of Old Valyria, but so far, Balerion has been listening.

You felt him, heard him coming towards you from the hallway

“Are you praying?”, asked Cregan, Erryk following closely behind him

“I’m very sorry your grace”, he apologized

“I didn’t know you followed a religion”, he said

“Some say Targaryens, as their dragons, don’t answer to neither god nor men”, you said gently, “But I find comfort of the Gods of Old Valyria, those whose names inspired the ones of our dragons”, you told him, “Balerion is the god of death, the greatest dragon of my house, and the one whose fire shaped the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms alike”

“You ask the God of Death for strength?”, he asked, he wasn’t judging, he seemed truly surprised. You didn’t answer, “I’m very sorry for interrupting your prayers, but, I was getting worried when I didn’t see you with Aerion, your head snapped back to his

“Is he alright?”, you asked 

“Yes”, he was hastily to answer, making you sigh, relieved, “Yes, our son is well, strong like his mother”, you smiled, giving the skull one last look, you returned to the safety of the halls of the Red Keep. 

“The feast is waiting”, said Cregan. You barely nodded. And began walking next to your husband

[“I’m concerned”, he said, frowning, looking all across the sea, a cup of wine in hand, “she is alone, without no friends, no family to guide her and care for her”, he said slowly, he then turned to his friends and confidant]

Cregan searched for your hand, and you squeezed it back. 

[“She has you”]

“Let’s get Aerion”, he offered

[“It’s not the same”, he said, “I had made you come here because I believe you are the last one, the last one that could be of comfort, you are, in all effects, her aunt, cousin to her mother”, he said softly.]

“I have a surprise for you wife”, he said with a soft smile

“What is it?”, you asked him, intrigued

He led you to the rooms on Maegor’s Holdfast in which you usually would host members of the family who did not reside on the Red Keep

[Lady Jeyne Arryn sipped her cup of wine]

“Aunt!”, you said, happily, as you saw Jeyne Arryn herself waiting for you with a pleased smile. You remembered her fondly, she hosted you when you seeked her support for your mother days before the real war began.

[“I will stay, for a while, to comfort her”, she said, “as my nephew is getting ready training to be the future Lord of the Vale, and I do want to see that beautiful little cherub, a son of ice and fire, the prince of Dragonstone”]

“My Dear niece”, she hugged you back tightly

“Are you here to stay?”, you asked her once you separated, “I heard your nephew is doing great work, shows great promise to become future Lord of the Vale”, you say warmly, she smiled and nodded

“Indeed, it is my wish that I can indeed stay for a good season, to give you my company and my counsel if you so desire it”, she said warmly

“Nothing would please me more”, you said in all honesty. You missed the looks they exchanged with Cregan, you missed the complicity.

“You will be the guest of honor at our feast tonight”, said Cregan

“That would be your son”, sh chided carefully, “is him who we honor, although, not everyone was aware of that”

“Were you there today? at the tourney?”, you asked her, frowning

“Sometimes tells of treachery travel faster then the wind”, she said with warning in her voice

“It is normal, I think, to be resentment, specially after how the Hightowers were shunned”, he said

“After a fire there is always ember”, she said, “what’s important is that it doesn’t catch anything dry around it”, only five minutes -to your knowledge- here and she has already proved herself to be wise and a counsel worthy to listen to.

Until you gathered them in a great hall, you remembered how many great families are in the seven Kingdoms. So many you couldn’t possibly remember their names. 

The music was delightful, the food was delicious, the wine was floating freely, thing to Lord Redwyne, but… BUT… there was still something tense in the air.

The mysterious Lord HIghtower didn’t present himself again, he left as mysteriously as he appeared and that did not make you feel better.

You and your counsel, with the arrival of your son and other events, had completely forgotten about the fact that Old Town seemed to have been erased from the map without any word to the capital.

And you did not believed the arrival of Lord Abelar HIghtower to be a ‘proof of life’

This was only one of many feasts you were holding for the week's events, so, to everyone's relief really, it ended quite early. The guest of honor, meaning your baby son was not in attendance and you felt restless after today’s events and you wanted to see him.

You have been so caught up inside these walls that you sometimes forget there is a whole world, millions of people out there. 

What was happening in the cities? what was happening in the streets of the very city at your feet? in King’s Landing itself?

What was said today? Was it in the mind of most people that it was safe to be? That they wanted Hightower blood in the Iron Throne? that they wanted Jaehaera reigning alongside Aegon? that they believed the Greens should have won?

That you were not the one who should sit the Iron Throne.

Thoughts haunted you as you walked back to your apartments, you felt your resolve crumbling, and that could not happen, you couldn’t slip, you needed to remain strong.

You passed by Aegon and Jaehaera’s apartments, as you saw them both sleep separately you thought about marrying them, but, now? not so much. The betrothal was still not of public knowledge, perhaps you’d do well in marrying Jaehaera away from this madness, with a kind powerful family, that will treat her well, when she is at least eight and ten. Perhaps that is what is best.

She was a kind and sweet child, and even though you wanted to have her under your wing, this foul city was not for the kindhearted, for the faint of spirit.

You learned that the hard way

And despite your best efforts the Red Keep was a nest of vipers. 

“Ser Erryk”, you greeted as you found the man guarding your apartment where your son slept.

“Your grace, might I introduce you… the latest member of the Queensguard: Ser Steffon Mangold”, presented Erryk, you smiled warmly at the blonde man stationed right beside him. 

“Your grace”, he said enthusiastically, taking a knee in front of you

“It’s a pleasure, I have been told that you were the hardest to find”, you laughed softly, he smiled and stood up again. “The last spot to the Queensguard, where are you from?”

“King’s Landing your grace”, he said quickly, “I have been raised in the city, and I think that is why they chose me”, you looked at Erryk and smiled at him, he nodded back, he had done a good job, it had taken almost a year, but finally it was done.

The mythical seven guards of the Kings, Queens and Princes of the Seven Kingdoms. You looked at the other man at his side, the ones on watch.  

Down the hall, following you, came…

“Ser Mervyn Flowers”, greeted Erryk diligently. From House Peak, of Starpike, this as the bastard brother of the Lord of Starpike, Unwin Peak, but you only smiled politely

“Ser Mervyn”, you offered, “Now that I’m in the best care possible, take the night’s watch and watch the childrens chambers if you please”, you checked with Erryk who nodded at you

“It is an honor your grace”, he said, nodding dutifully, and left you

You did not like him.

And it wasn’t unfounded, his brother, half brother, the current Lord of Starpike, had been a supporter of the Hightowers during the war, gathering a host of two thousand men to support the Green army from Oldtown.

During the time Cregan held trials for the traitors and afterwards when you yourself held audiences, Lord Peak came rushing to… demand… your forgiveness, you granted it, not wanting to trouble yourself and to give instability to the Reach after everything that happened so, you pardoned him after the counsel of your now husband. The problem was… he never left. 

He had offered himself to fill the post of Tyland after his untimely demise, and Cregan had refused him, deciding to bring yet another Lannister, and now he spent his days… whining and bitching and commenting of every decision the small council had ever made, he couldn’t secure a position for him or any of his family, except for his half brother.

Who was the finalist of Erryk’s long list of candidates, in his defense, for the post of Queensguard, so they decided to pull him to the first seven, to calm his brother, and it looked like it worked

For a couple of weeks

Now the Lord of Starpike was at it again.

He had a daughter, of Aegon’s age, and he was insisting on betrothe the two. You avoided him like the plague, because of your doubts on what to do with the future of the little ones of your family. 

No matter how good you tried to put everything together, with the right people, the right family, the throne kept being like a light in the middle of a swamp, I was going to pull in all kinds of creatures, good and bad. 

“Ser Erryk, you and Ser Steffon are the ones in charge of Aerion”, you said softly, “until he is of age he will be sharing my chambers, so I want one of you at least with him at all times”

“Of course your grace”, you looked at Ser Steffon, who looked very professional and well mannered, standing there like a statue of the Father.

“Ser Steffon, can I have a word?”, you asked him, he seemed surprised, but nodded 

He followed you inside your chambers.

“Have you been out there, in the city, recently?”, you asked him

“Yes your grace”, he said, standing firmly right by the door

“Can I ask, what had been said? in the streets?”

“Your grace?”, he didn’t seem to understand your questions

“What are people saying? about after the war, about the succession?”, you asked him

“The people love their queen!”, he said rapidly, like he was afraid of high treason

“Please”, you begged him, “I won’t hold you accountable for what the people re saying, they are my subjects and if they are worried or displeased I need to know”, you said gently, he seemed pleasantly surprised, but somewhat relieved

“Well, your grace, you see, the war was hard on everyone, and when they raised against your mother, the situation was critical”, he said, “but they love their queen”

“What about those who believed Aegon was the true King, that believe in his legacy?”, you asked

“People are contented with how things turn out”, he assured you, “food is being send again, the people are fed, and you are the one who made sure of it, that is what matters”, he said, “stability, food in their bellies, and safety”

“Well, I think that yes”

“They never cared if the reigning monarch was a man or not”, he said, “they believe in their King or Queen, whoever that might be”, he said, “as long as they are cared for”

“That is right”, you whispered. “Do they accept me as Queen?”

“People is glad that the war is over”, he said, “and they see you as the symbol of that, of a new era of peace and prosperity”

“You seemed to fear me, minutes ago”, you teased

“You are my Queen, and this is the biggest honor of my life, I do not want to disappoint you”, he said

“So you have seen what I have done, or at least heard about it, do you think I am a tyrant?”, you asked

“People in the city talk about how you burn alive your enemies, the pens who caused the war, and how you flew in the back of your dragon and saved the Kingdoms from the wrath of the Ironborns, they talk about how you are in truth the protector of the realm, and I do believe it too”, he said, “you are more than the Lady of the seven Kingdoms, you also are the Protector of the realm”, he said

“Thank you Ser Steffon, I value honesty above all else”, he nodded, “you may go”, he nodded and left the room. 

The Protector of the Realm

A strong Queen

You were proving to everyone that it did not matter if you were a woman because you checked all the titles, all of your titles. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, protector of the realm, Queen of the Rhoynar, the Andals and the first men…

With Fire and Blood

Cregan entered the room and smiled as he saw you in your nightgown

“You are happy”, he said with a soft smile

“I have an idea”, you said, “we should take a tour”

“A tour?”, he asked

“After this is over…”, you said, “I wish to take a tour through the Kingdoms, to see my people, so they can see me, and Aerion perhaps”, he listened to you carefully and nodded

“I think it can be done”

“The people need to see me, my heir, and my dragon, to remind them, to reassure them that the war is over and the Kingdoms need to be reunited again.

“I believe, it's a magnificent idea”, he said then.

“And we should go to Oldtown first”, you warned

PCN: I CANNOT SAY ENOUGH HOW SORRY I AM, my inspiration just left the station and didn't come back

AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ELSE

When I woke up this morning, I had no idea, I HAD NO PLANS TO WRITE IT, it just struck me like lightening while I was working, I SWEAR WHEN I ANSWERED THAT ASK EARLIER TODAY I WASN'T WRITING IT, I HAD TWO PAGES AND WERE MOSTLY RAMBLES

Don't know what else to say or how to explain it

I guess Inspiration does have to get you while you are working.

If you read the books, you know what -might- come when I started mentioning weird names, NO SPOILYSSSS

Taglist of the most patient people on the planet

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog @aesthetic0cherryblossom @arrozyfrijoles23 @sacredmachine @wintfleur @kitkat-writes-stuff @green-lxght @elle-28 @cloudroomblog @r-3dlips

[alannybunnue]

Ok, A Song of Ice and Fire Stories

Welcome! So you want to see my stories on the rollercoaster that is a Song of Ice and Fire.

Well, serve yourself, we got a lot going on here...

Imagines

The Targaryens as Yanderes Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

-> Asks:

Curse between Generations

Age gap between Borros and Viserys!Reader

Maegor and his only daughter

The last names of Pre-Dod!Reader and her daughter

Aemond and Dod!Reader

Is Dod!Reader heir to Harrenhal?

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

If Daemon and Rhaenyra had a bastard child

Keep it Short

Immortal!Reader being the reason why everything started Part 2 Last Part

Joking Around

Modern!Reader stuck with the Yan!Targaryens Part 2

You Asked for This

Yan!Aegon I and Maegor I as your lovers/husbands.

Yan!Aegon, Aemond, Daemon and Jacaerys with a Stark!Reader

Daemon Blackfyre in his Red Wedding

We made History

Dance of the Dragons 0.5 ✔

Aegon with a Septa!Reader ✔

Bloodraven VS Bittersteel for Bracken!Reader ´

Queen!Reader with Aenys Targaryen ´

Criston Cole x Lady Dondarrion ´

Yan!Robb Stark VS Mother!Cersei Lannister ´

Baelor the Blessed with a Stark and a Greyjoy ´

Baelor Breakspear x Reader VS Daemon Blackfyre ´

Stannis Baratheon with a Tyrell!Reader ´

Baelon Targaryen with a Stark!Reader ´

Larys Strong with his brother's wife ´

Duncan the Tall VS Aerion Brightflame ´

Yan!Roose Bolton x Reader + PlatonicYan!Ramsay ´

Westeros x Demigod!Reader ´

My personal face claims for the readers Part 2

Well, that is all for today, if you got something on your mind, don't be afraid of requesting it :3

[damn-stark]

Chapter 16 And wisdom choke you

Chapter 16 of Moonlight

A/N- Aegon: “Maester the psychos are loose. Help me.”

Warning- Swearing, talks of pregnancy, ANGST!!, fluff!!, Aegon, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- 2x06-2x07

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

Of course, you knew Aemond was going to kick his mother out of the Small Council. He said he didn't think she was really needed there anymore.

You also saw his unwillingness as he told you.

Is that why she’s here interrupting your peace?

“You look very lovely today, Your Grace,” Alicent offers you sweet words as if working up to her bribe. Or not?

Then again it’s not like you seek each other's company, so she most likely wants to talk about Aemond with you, and you have some idea what she might say. She was basically yelling it at you for help during the Small Council meeting.

Still, you pretend you don't have a clue and spare a glance at the pretty teal dress decorated with embroidered stars on the long capes that cascade down your shoulders, and then look over at her and notice her studying the pearl headpiece that you wear, the golden arm sleeves that hang from your armbands and weigh down your arms before she meets your gaze and gives you a smile.

“I have to say I always like how you dress, and I don’t know how you do it with your morning sickness.” She says and takes a step closer while you offer her a genuine smile.

“I will admit I don’t know how I do it either, I’d rather be abed, but,” you sigh and take a glance around. “There’s stuff to be done and I really hate being bored and so plain dressed. I blame my father for that.” You laugh softly. “There was never a day I did not see him dressed so extravagantly…except for when it came to training of course.”

She offers you a faint smile and adds nothing since there’s really nothing she wanted to say about your father to avoid upsetting you, and well, she really didn’t care at the moment.

“After the small council meeting, I could not help but hear that you are having trouble keeping food down,” Alicent brings up to not drift away too far.

You nod. “Yes, I,” you pause and drop your gaze as you find that your next words come easy to you. Is it because the way she framed her question is how your mother would have asked you? Or because you really are seeking some help on the matter?

“…I have been finding it hard between not being hungry and not keeping the food down, or my head and stomach aching,” you spill out your troubles out of desperation. “I never had that while I was expecting Aerion. It was rather easy then.”

Alicent finishes closing the distance between you to be able to grab your arm as she looks at you softly, making her brown eyes almost inviting to get lost in.

“It’s all normal, not every experience will be the same, especially with twins,” she tries to offer you what you seek. “Morning sickness goes away, I found that ginger tea with drops of lemon juice helped me when I was feeling under the weather with Daeron.”

You take in her suggestion with a gentle nod and soon thereafter see her hand gently slide off your arm.

“It will go away. Just like one of the twins will grow like their sibling, don’t worry,” she adds, making you swallow back nervously and nod in comprehension.

“Aemond,” you share in a soft voice that you rarely use when you’re talking with her. “Has tried to read into it. I caught him this morning since it’s the only time he can dive back into his own pleasures before Regent duties steal his attention.”

Alicent blinks and her eyes lose that sweet attempt at being comforting, instead, something else flickers within that makes her eyes dull and her lips droop to a long forming frown.

“He has really jumped into his role as Regent hasn’t he?” She mutters and takes a step back. “He would be so quiet at meetings with Aegon, now…” she trails off and pauses whilst her eyes search the white tree behind you. “He's…different. Colder.”

You take in her words to try and find the fault she clearly sees, but you find nothing. “Well…we are in a time of war. He needs to be hard so people listen, a gentle voice makes them too lenient and carefree like Lord Jason Lannister.”

Alicents eyes snap to you and the corner of her lips twitch with discontent, yet she doesn’t give up.

“Does that mean having to kick his own mother out of the Small Council?” She now blurts, making you stiffen only because it’s awkward and something she should talk about with anyone else but you.

“If it’s any consolation, the decision wasn’t easy to make,” you reveal, causing her eyebrows to briefly meet in the middle as she’s slightly surprised by the words you admit. But then her expression changes as she’s proven right.

“I see,” she mumbles and drifts her eyes away for a moment before she lifts her head up high to slowly look at you with this desperation that makes her eyes wide and glisten as if she wants to lure you in.

“You and Aemond are close, I see that. I have always seen it since you were children, but now that you’re married, now that you have a family of your own it seems that connection has only grown,” she rolls out of her tongue. “I’m glad that he has someone he loves, a best friend with a key to his heart. He needs that now more than ever.”

You blink and slowly figure her out. Those sweet words, and that thing she’s doing with her eyes.

“He needs someone to keep him calm, someone to make him see reason,” she continues to ramble. “And I’m glad that it’s you. You’re gentle just like your mother. You have reason. And you’re smart.”

And once again she’s proving that she does not know you. The way you are is a reason why your mother was also hesitant to let you fight, like Jacaerys you’re quick to upset, so you suppose you get that from her.

“You have to be his reason, you have to be like a voice in his head, and I know it’s not always easy but you are the only one with access to his heart—”

“And I have no means of changing it,” you cut off her rambling while looking at her with discontent and disapproval. “He can’t be on his ass, or be some lenient Regent who lets people walk over him. He has to put his foot down; he has to get his hands dirty. We’re at war. You see that, you have lost a soul because of this war, do you want to lose more?” You snap at her in defense of Aemond.

“I will interfere when I can,” you admit but that doesn’t offer her peace of mind, instead she grows more upset. “But I won't bend him at the will of anyone just so he can what? Give you your seat back on the Small Council?”

Alicent swallows back nervously and drags in a deep breath that makes her chest rise high. When she lets the breath go it comes out shaky and her eyes now glisten because she’s being attacked.

Yet she doesn’t let herself be defeated just yet; she holds your gaze and tries to jab back. “I wonder if you will say the same thing in regards to him hurting more of your family? Or do you say this now because it benefits you?”

Your jaw clenches and your anger is quickly summoned, but you’re also quick to reel it back to respond with an icy demeanor that works to intimidate her more than your anger would.

“Have you ever been in love?” You catch her off guard with your question, and as you see that you give her a moment to collect herself and gather her thoughts.

Albeit her lips part and she doesn’t answer, her eyebrows knit together and she looks at you troubled, as if the question itself is physically tolling.

You see that so answer for her. “I will take that as a no, so I will explain it to you,” you continue with a hint of cockiness behind every word. “I tried hating Aemond, I did. I told him that, but…no matter what he did, I can’t muster myself to. I can’t even muster a smidge of hate. Even when I’m mad at him he’s such a relief to see, does that make me foolish? Maybe. Maybe I am foolish for loving someone who killed my brother, but…” you trail off and swallow back thickly.

“My heart sings for him, for every part of him. The bad parts, and especially the good ones. That’s what love is. It’s loving every part of them. It’s not about changing them to your will, you can guide them, and help them, but why would you want to change who they are? If you’re going to be with someone, it's because you love who they are. Why would you be with someone that you want to change?”

Alicent blinks repeatedly and tries hard to fight the tears brought by defeat and guilt.

“I see who Aemond is turning out to be,” you try to be understanding. “I see his anger, but don’t you see that he’s always been like that? Deep inside it’s who he is, who was made to be. And he’s not all bad, he just can’t express his desperation to keep his family safe, don’t you see that? He’s not only working for my son and me but for you and Helaena. So no…I won’t change him. I love him. I love who he is. I love all of him,” you say those last words tenderly and it almost works to convince her that it will all be fine, but you see it, she’s still scared of him, of who’s coming out of the shadows.

And maybe soon you will change your mind, he will do things that will make you change your mind, but right now you believe every word that comes out of your mouth. You love him with all of yourself. You love all of him.

“We’re at war, Alicent, we have to be ruthless. Us, more than anyone because we’re women. Learn that,” you offer her a piece of advice and take a deep breath before you walk away from her, catching Helaena approaching the Godswood.

“Your Grace,” you greet her and curtsy.

Helaena curtsy back. “Your Grace,” she says back with a tiny smile. “You are Regent now.”

You scoff in amusement and see her pass her focus to Alicent. “Mother,” she greets. “I hope I am not interrupting.”

You shake your head. “No, we just got done talking.”

Helaena hums and her eyes drift back to you. “I was hoping we could take a stroll to talk. Are you busy?”

You beam at her and shake your head. “Nope, the rest of my day is open, so I’m all yours,” you assure her and skip over to her to fall at her side and guide her away. Yet before she can walk with you she bids her mother a goodbye.

“I will see you later.”

Alicent offers her daughter a sweet smile and redirects a short goodbye, letting Helaena then give most of her attention to you, and little attention to where you walk. And it’s good that she does because the truth is, you don’t pay much mind to where you walk, you just walk with your shadows trailing behind you.

“Have you thought of any names for the twins?” Helaena wanders.

You clasp your hands behind you and sigh. “I have thought of them, but I am still indecisive.”

Helaena hums and then turns her head to look at you with excitement. “When I was expecting the twins I was really eager to think of names. I remember. So perhaps I can give you some ideas, like, Shiera, or Gael for girls and for boys maybe Laenor, like your father.”

You blink repeatedly and a sweet and tender smile spreads on your lips. “Yes, I think Laenor would be a perfect name…if I have a boy…you don’t happen to know do you?” You try and probe, making her look away and lose herself in the distance.

“No,” she says thoughtfully. “My dreams…well…I can’t really conjure up what to dream. Do you understand? It all just comes when it wants.”

You follow her line of gaze and hum in comprehension. “It must be heavy. Knowing so much stuff, I mean.”

Helaena blinks and her eyes fall to her hands. “Well…I have had them since I can remember, so the weight is not something I feel anymore.”

You look at her with slight pity, but she looks at you with a very faint smile. “But that’s why I like going on dragonback, I feel free in a lot of ways when I’m in the sky with Dreamfyre. That’s why I liked it when we went flying together. Will we be able to fly together soon, do you think?”

You see the hope clinging to her eyes. You see the desire to have something not tainted by this war. And it makes it hard to be honest, but you can’t lie either. “I hope so. I miss flying without worrying that I’ll hit the blockade, or run into armies of men ready to shoot down my dragon, or me,” you don’t avoid the truth, even as bleak as it sounds.

“Maybe once this war is over and we don’t have to worry about coming across angry people, then we can fly as freely as we want and land on a small Island where we can swim, and watch the sunset. Now that our children have dragons of their own,” you muse with a grin.

Yet Helaena fails to mirror that hopeful joy, or any joy at all, her eyes remain downcast, but this time a small frown curls on her lips and her eyebrows knit together.

“Are you…okay?” You press carefully, gaining her immediate attention as if caught by surprise.

“Yes,” she answers bluntly.

You search her gaze, but like many times before, you can’t read her. You wish you could, you wish you could know all that she knows but you also know that if you did your mind would collapse with all that knowledge, and it would probably cease to exist. So you leave it untouched and leave it up to her to share what she wants or deems significant.

Thus you move on to a peaceful silence you both don’t mind being wrapped in. There does come times when you comment something to each other, but it’s never heavy, it’s lighthearted to be able to escape from the wrath and find peace with each other.

There’s also never a sign of a grudge from her since you are Regent now. She actually thanks you for taking the attention away from her and says if she could, she would give you the title to return to her humble living as a princess. But she can’t do such a thing so she gives you her thanks instead and adds that she’s also grateful that she feels tranquil when you’re with each other, causing you to think that if you had a sister you would want her to be as gentle and sweet as Helaena.

Actually, Helaena is like a sister to you. She might be older than you, but she feels like a little sister you must protect at all costs. You want to shield her from this terrible world the same way you want to shield your little brothers.

She’s too fragile and good for this world, you want to protect her from that, but you also want her to fight, to grow thorns like a fragile rose so she’s not so easily plucked. But alas you know a lot of people can’t and aren’t like that and that’s okay too. You’ll protect her regardless, you’ll be the thorns to her rose. A fire a dragon breathes, and the sharp teeth they bear. Just for her.

——

*LATER*

Whilst on your stroll with Helaena, you found yourself near the roofs where Aemond and you would escape to when you were kids, where all you had at that moment was each other's company, and you couldn’t stop thinking of those sweet moments when everything was much more simple. Maybe that’s why later that same day you found yourself sitting on the roof watching the sun set so peacefully as if it doesn't hide tragedy on its horizon, and hoping that you could still grasp onto those simple times even if you know they’re nothing but a memory now.

“Aren’t you cold?” A soft voice cuts in through the chilly air. “With your back exposed like that?”

You must have summoned Aemond with your mind, or perhaps you just missed each other when you came up to the roofs and he went to your chambers.

“Beauty is pain,” you remark with a cheeky grin. “You of all people should know that. Tell me, how painful is it being so beautiful?” You lull out cheekily, and when you look over your shoulder you catch a rosy blush on his cheeks that makes you grin and feel accomplished.

“No, but really,” you scoff and look back at the bleeding sunset. “I don’t mind it much.”

“Is it that warm flesh of yours?” He quips but also wonders out of curiosity.

You sigh deeply and wait until he’s sitting by you before you shake your head. “No. I just don’t mind the cold because I prefer less constrictive gowns. Why?” You roll out and tilt your head to the side to look at him with a pressing gaze. “Am I exposing myself too much for your liking husband?”

Aemond rolls his eye but doesn’t actually argue to prove you wrong.

“It’s not like what I say will stop you from wearing what you like,” he mutters to the part of the sky that’s already littered with stars.

“Nope,” you deadpan. “And it doesn’t seem like you mind them much when you’re gawking at me.”

Aemond scoffs and you look over at him with a smirk twitching on your lips. He then slowly drifts his eyes over to you and a smirk flashes on his lips before he smiles shyly at the book that you barely notice on his lap.

“I find you beautiful in everything you wear,” he says, making you giggle and drop your head on his shoulder—“I just don’t like when other people gawk. Like my uncle.”

“Your uncle is older than my mother,” you comment. “And thinks he’s younger than he is…no offense or anything.”

Aemond doesn’t argue in his uncle's defense so you continue.

“Don’t worry about anyone. I will only have eyes for you, and I will only be yours,” you finish in a whisper.

Aemond remains quiet and just presses a kiss on the top of your head without moving his lips away after that moment. He keeps his lips and nose nuzzled against your head and now admires the same blazing horizon you do, going unaware of your current desire to grasp at some reminder of the simple times to relive them just for a little bit. You want to live back in those moments for a while, you long for it, but you also figure out that it’s something that you can’t fight to get back. You can only reminisce and live through what life has to offer you now.

“Aemond,” you whisper shakily and want to pull away to meet him in the eye, but you’re also afraid of what you’ll see, so you stay as you are and watch as the horizon gets distorted with tears that build in your eyes. “Are you scared…of me? Of what I can do?”

Right away he sees that any hesitation will make you doubt and make you question everything about yourself, so he answers right away without an ounce of deceit. “No, should I be?”

You shake your head lightly and whisper. “No. I don’t want you to be.”

“I’m not,” he presses so you can finally cement that in your heart and stop overthinking.

“Good,” you whisper that to yourself before you finally decide to touch on the unspoken subject. “I would have said something if I knew what I was, or why I can’t be hurt by fire. I’ve been trying to look into it, but I cannot find anything. I wanted to find what I could be before I told anyone so I didn’t seem mad. Do you understand?”

Aemond hums and lingers in his silence before he pulls away and pushes the book towards you. “It was one of my father's books Aegon had stashed.”

You look at Aemond with awe because that’s all that befalls you at that very moment as you come to realize that he’s been trying to read more into what you could be, or what could have led to you being immune to fire.

You didn’t even ask him to do it.

“I could not find much, I’m sure there’s something in Dragonstone, or somewhere lost in the world, but what I did find…” he continues to make your heart dance, and your love for him to grow. “…was that our Valyrian ancestors would practice blood magic in Old Valyria, I’m sure it came from something magic-related.”

You scoff and finally tear your eyes off him to look at the pages you flip through. “So I’m cursed?”

“No,” Aemond quickly scoffs and looks at the pages you’re going through. “You are not hurt by fire, I would not call that being cursed. I think it makes you special,” he speaks softly and full of fascination, and as soon as you catch that oozing off his voice you stop flipping through the pages and slowly look at him with relief, disbelief, and just utter awe that he doesn’t shame you and proves what you saw that night right.

He sees you. He knows you’re something so much more, something important and that can mean so much.

Albeit at this very moment he is averting your gaze out of timidness, proving Alicent’s fears wrong. He’s no monster, and it’s sad that she thinks that.

“You think so?” You still ask for reassurance.

Aemond’s gaze lingers on the page before he slowly meets your gaze with a soft smile and adoration that makes his blue eye soft and easy to get lost in. “I know it. I’m certain of it.”

Your heart flutters, causing your lips to tremble as happy tears fill your eyes.

Sure perhaps if you confided in your mother or someone else you trust they too would say a variation of the same thing, but there’s something about not having to tell Aemond, about him discovering it for himself that makes this so much more special, and so much more tender. If only you knew what was really rushing through his mind, you would have probably collapsed or had some heart attack.

And he wants to tell you every feeling that’s making his heart mad with more love and lust, but he keeps it all in to avoid sounding mad to you. He doesn’t want you to think he’s mad, even if you probably wouldn’t, he doesn’t tell you how special you both are because he rides the largest dragon and you have fire-made flesh.

You both are Regents now too. You are both ruthless, you are both called for greater deeds, you both are greater than those below you, and you are one in the same now. He used to think that before but now…now you are one.

That’s what he thinks…

“I’m glad you think so,” you mumble and reach your hand over to cup his jaw and caress his cheek with your thumb as you just relish in how grateful you are that he understands and that he looks at you with admiration and love rather than fear.

“And thank you for trying to look for an answer,” you add. “It means a lot.”

He brings his hand up to cup yours and caresses your knuckles while he just stares at you in awe.

“You are special,” he makes it clear to you and your dancing heart swooning for him. “You always have been special to me.”

You lean in but don’t press your lips against his right away. You stop to smile in relief first before you close that distance with a slow and passionate kiss that you both find sync in quickly and move like you’re starving for each other's taste.

It’s no wonder why you came out with a child 4 months after having your first son. Neither of you can keep your hands off each other, or keep your lips from molding into each other. And now with you both being regent and the discovery of this gift, you find a new and hotter vigor for each other.

Yet neither of you get carried away right then at that moment. You pull away after a while to catch your breaths and press your forehead against his to avoid losing contact.

Rather than basking in the silence that the night has to offer on the roofs, you find words to share through your heavy breaths. “Will you let me fight now? I don’t want to be sitting here waiting to hear news. I want…I want to fight on my dragon. I don’t have to fight on the ground, just let me be on Astraea. We can help. Please,” you beg and stroke his cheek.

Aemond licks his lips and peels away to meet your waiting gaze. He parts his lips, but nothing comes out but hesitation that you quickly rebuttal

“At least when we’re together then,” you try to lure him to agree. “So you can be there if anything does happen. Please. I won’t get burnt, you know that. I will wear armor. And Astraea will keep me safe.”

Aemond’s eye drifts down to your belly, so you grab his hand and press it against you. “We will be fine,” you insist. “I will be fine.”

Aemond looks up at you and clenches his jaw as he stares hard, but after a while, he sighs and gives you his answer. “Fine.”

You flash him a beaming grin before you throw your arms around him and thank him by whispering in his ear over and over again.

“Any sign of any greater danger and you’re out do you understand?” He makes sure to let you know harshly. “I will throw you over my shoulder or have you taken like you’re captive, do you understand? I am not risking your life.”

You chuckle and pull your head back but keep your arms wrapped around him to assure him. “I understand.”

Aemond groans and you give him a peck on his lips and mutter against them. “<I love you.>”

Aemond holds your gaze and pouts with discontent because you just completely defeated him, but you don't care, you brush him off to steal another kiss from him, causing him to pull away.

You ignore his frustration and flash him a smug smile before you push the book away to shift around and lay on your back with your head on his lap to be able to look up at the stars that paint the night sky. Now you know that you can’t stay up here forever, no matter how much you want to avoid this war, but there’s nothing wrong with stealing a moment for yourselves under the twinkling stars, and the bright full moon.

“I’m here,” you start to reminisce. “And I can’t help but think about how I wanted to escape. How I wanted to be somewhere else…” you trail off and Aemond rests his hand on your arm that you sling over your chest. “And if you told me that you wanted to leave right now, I would grab Aerion and I would leave with you,” you admit, making him steal a glance at you.

“But,” you add. “I like to think I have matured out of that desperate desire.”

There’s nothing Aemond can really say in response, there’s nothing you want him to say so you appreciate his silence before you finally tear your eyes away from the stars that kept you captive, and look at him with a hint of sadness, but also like you’re somewhere far.

“Do you want to know what else I dreamed about when I would find myself alone here…or anywhere?”

Aemond hums to probe so you do just that, you continue softly, ever so feathery, enchantingly so. “I would dream of being Queen.”

It’s something you knew you wanted. It’s something he knew you almost had.

it was there at your reach, but it was taken away. You have never admitted it to him, your deepest desire until now. “I wanted the power,” you say like you’re reciting the most beautiful poem. “Did that make me selfish? Power-hungry? No, I never thought of it that way because I deserved it.” You nod softly and he looks deep into your soul with a softening gaze. “It was my destiny. I wanted to be like Good Queen Alysanne, like Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror. I dreamt of it, I pictured myself as Queen. I wanted to be good, I imagined I would be even though it could never be mine.”

You sigh shakily and look up at the sky as if you’re searching for that dream again amongst the stars.

“As I got older that desire turned to anger and resentment, but I was taught not to be angry about it and many things. And I was never angry at my mother or my brother, I was angry at the people who said that I couldn’t have it. I am still angry to this day. It’s deep inside me, but I still am because they took it,” you sneer but not with a loud rage, you are still soft-spoken, like you’re more sad than angry.

“And they made me feel weak,” you say between a grimace and a tremble in your voice, which Aemond catches. He catches every emotion, he’s captivated by every word and stuck on the tears that roll down your cheeks.

“They made me feel like I didn’t belong,” you continue. “Because if I’m the oldest and not my mother's heir then why? Why am I here? They…made me feel like I needed to prove myself to be something every day of my life…” you trail off and he finds tears creeping in his eye too. He finds that his throat stings because he felt what you did too when he had no dragon. Even now when he does, that need to prove himself still lingers just like it does in you.

“I understand,” he admits above a whisper, pulling your teary eyes back to him to look deep into his soul that cries as it feels understood, and as you prove to him that you are one in the same. That you were always meant to burn together—“I understand the feeling.”

You sit up and cup his cheek to wipe away his stray tear, and he mirrors your actions to wipe away the tears that roll down your own cheeks.

“But now I ride the biggest dragon,” he continues with a ferocity that he was quick to find. “And you,” he muses. “You are not hurt by fire. You are unburnt. We are Regents. We have the power, we do not need to prove anything to anyone. Not anymore. The world is ours now. We don’t have to be belittled by it anymore.”

You offer him an admiring smile and shake your head. “I don’t need the world to be mine,” you confess. “I have you, Aerion, my dragon, and the twins. That’s all I need. I am content. That’s my fight now. The power as Regent is an added bonus, I like it and if I were to have more I would make the most of it, but I am content now with you, and the little blessing you gave me.”

Aemond parts his lips, but he’s at a loss for words. All he can continue doing is admire you; your divine beauty, the sweet smile on your perfect lips, the tears that still trail down your perfectly sculpted face, and the love and awe in your eyes that make them gleam beautifully.

He really wants to say something, but he’s left knowing that all that he is, all that he wants to be, and all that he wanted to be, exists there with you.

He exists only for you, for his son, for his mother and sister, but you hold a special place in his heart because you continue to see him. You understand his conflicted soul more than anyone and he appreciates that understanding, and thanks it with kisses, with deep and passionate kisses that lead to neither of you wanting to part. They engulf you both with desire that takes you back to your chambers where you demand to be alone even if that sends your son away to different chambers.

Your passion drives you mad with lust and with the need to please each other in different ways. Your heated passion leaves you unsatisfied after one round and makes you want more and more until you're both exhausted, but completely full and happily satisfied.

Sleep came to be quite minimal after. Your days start earlier now, but you both found yourselves awake so you filled the silence while you waited for the day to get started for you.

He mostly complained though, but you don’t mind. You like that he shares his complaints with you.

“Lord Jason is just scared, it’s normal,” you try to ease the crease that forms between his brows. “He’s never fought a war, he’s scared.”

Aemond shakes his head and parts his lips to argue but you cut him off to get your point across. “With that said, am I excusing how lazy he’s being? No. He’s being too lenient and not taking it as seriously as he should. The boost in power has gotten to his head.”

Aemond sighs deeply and mutters. “He's only head of the army because of his brother, I would have chosen someone else for the job, someone who doesn’t need me to go to his rescue to get the job done sooner.”

You stop tracing circles on the mattress and snicker before you tilt your head up to steal a glance at Aemond. “I hear he’s taken lions with him,” you add with a teasing smile growing on your lips. “What exactly are they supposed to do?”

Aemond crosses his arms over his bare chest and mutters. “They want to be like us. They want to rule the land because they see we rule the sky.”

You shift your head down on your palm and giggle. “Them and their golden lions are funny. They believe their golden lions are like our dragons, but they can’t stand on the clouds, they roll in the dirt and call those clouds.”

Aemond chuckles, and as you lay on your side with your head resting on your propped-up hand, you slide your hand over his torso. “With a lion, if you turn your back, they dig their claws in you, no matter how long you’ve raised them. With dragons, you bond with them and they will forever be bound to your soul, they are a part of your soul. So no matter how hard they all try, no house will ever reach us as long as our dragons live.”

Aemond hums, and you press your fingers on his torso before you slide them over and look up with a slightly narrowed look. “That’s why you need to remind this Lord Lion that he’s no one to be ordering you or anyone else around. If he’s a coward who needs a security blanket to fight then tell him you will find someone else who can.”

“And if Daemon does decide to meet them in battle?” Aemond does let you hear some of his doubt, and as possible as it is, you doubt he will. At least you hope he won’t, there’s other battles to fight with Caraxes, it doesn’t seem like he’d be bothered to fight against Lord Jason unless they’re desperate or want an easy win.

“Then he meets them, but I doubt that Daemon will bother to fight any Lannister army. If it was Ser Criston then yes, I would say you should worry, but it’s not, so I would not give it a second thought. He'll send another army to fight for him.”

Aemond nods gently in comprehension and you stare at him for a lingering moment with a growing smile before you climb up the bed to be face to face. “Will you miss me at today's small council meeting?”

Aemond lazily hangs his arm over your waist and glances down at your lips. “Well, I’ll have to be stuck staring at old men and toads so yes.”

You laugh and query. “Toads?”

“Lord Larys.”

You snort and smack his shoulder. “That’s…true,” you wanted to say it was rude but as you think about it now it’s true. “Well,” you roll out and scale your fingers up to caress his chest. “If you ever miss me throughout the day just come to our quarters I’ll be here all day getting my braids done.”

Aemond huffs softly and can’t help but cup your cheek, the same cheek that bears the scar he made six years ago, and hovers his thumb over the scar before he gently trails it.

“Just remember,” you speak softly and grab his hand. “Clear mind Aemond. Don’t let your anger blind you. I know sometimes the men around you can be irritating and all you want to do is lash out, but anger doesn’t work in this situation. It doesn’t work when it comes to planning, okay? Clear mind and hold your anger back for this, hm?”

Aemond doesn’t say anything in return, he just presses a kiss on the heel of your hand and you take that as a comprehensive response.

Not so much later Vanessa, Aerion’s wetnurse, and servants barge in and your lax morning is upturned to a rowdy morning and you know your day has kickstarted. No more rest, and there’s only a little privacy while you break fast, but that serenity is cut short soon thereafter by Aerion crying. At least this morning you could stomach—or the twins felt like letting you eat so you really take that as a positive first step of a good day. Or as good as a day can be nowadays.

Can you say the rest of the day you're going through is bad? No, mostly because when you’re in your chambers sometimes it feels like the day passes over you. The news doesn’t come to you right away, and since you aren’t going out of your way to seek it you have to wait for it to come to you. You live in a little bubble when days like today are spent surrounded by the four walls of your quarters. Do you mind it?

Not today. You enjoy basking in the obliviousness, you enjoy the escape, the serenity as Vanessa takes her time to carefully braid your white hair whilst you pass golden cuffs, and pearls that hang from rings so she can put them in your hair.

She doesn’t tug too harshly, she’s gentle, slow, and very intricate with each braid, and each placement of the pearls, and the cuffs, that you could fall asleep. Actually, sometimes you do find yourself dozing off while you’re reading, but mostly you sit in the serenity that obliviousness brings.

“Perhaps soon I can wear that gown from Yi-Ti, the sea green one that looks blue under certain lights?” You ask for an opinion. “That one is my favorite because of the black chest piece that comes with the cloak. It’s very…exquisite, and the embroidery on the sleeves and all the golden accessories it comes with,” you swoon. “I wish I lived there, I would need a castle just for my wardrobe!”

“You should see how they dress when the summer is at its peak,” Ser Jason cuts into the conversation. “The silks are truly…silk.”

You snort and look at him through the mirror as he puts down books you needed from the library, but couldn't get at this very moment.

“You’ve been to Yi-Ti?” You muse and get tempted to turn around, but Vanessa would scold you for moving so you just stare at the knight in awe and envy.

Ser Jason’s eyes flicker to the ground and he hesitates before he nods gently. “Yes, not long, but I’ve been at the peak of summer.”

Your smile slowly grows to a grin and you probe because that’s all you can do. “Is it as they say? Is it really so beautiful? Are there golden castles?”

Ser Jason chuckles and shakes his head as he keeps avoiding eye contact and stands incredibly still. “No, those are just tall tales, but they do have a lot of gold. Statues, the peak of roofs, and tapestries lined with beautiful golden threads that almost look like rich gold. And the food,” he sighs as if recalling the taste in his mouth.

“It’s otherworldly,” you let him keep filling your head with tales of his life, a life you wish you could live just to see those wonders he got to see with his own eyes. “I…I would love to describe it, but there’s truly no words I could use to describe how all those flavors dance on one's tongue.”

You nod gently and hope for more, but he looks at you through the mirror and falters. That confidence he garnered to speak of those marvels is lost and he’s reverted back to his stammering and timidness. “Of course, you…you should go witness it all for yourself. You would love it.”

That wonder twinkling in your eyes dims and your smile is not as sweet. “It’s easier said than done sadly. I have jewelry with rare gems from Yi-Ti, I have gowns made with their rich fabrics and designed by their creative minds, but that’s how far I go.”

“You'd think with all the money and privilege you wouldn’t let them tell you how to live your life,” he dares to say, causing your second sworn protector to peek his head inside after what he overheard, while you and Vanessa stiffen and look at the sudden bold knight.

“One would think,” you hit back and catch his eyes widening in shock as if he did not actually expect you to respond, or as if shocked about what came out of his mouth is true.

“But I am a woman, a princess, and the only daughter of a queen, my life has been planned since the moment I was born,” your voice goes hard and cold while your eyes express the same bitterness. “Stories and dreams are as far as I go.”

Ser Jason blinks repeatedly as his mouth is left agape. “I know women with just as much who left it all behind to find a lot more riches in accomplishing their dreams.”

Your eyes flicker to a glare, but tears break through as you slowly come to realize that all you have is dreams of grand places and grand adventures. There’s nothing you can do but dream again. He returns that cruel reminder to your mind.

“Thank you, Ser,” you dismiss him and avert your gaze so you don’t know how he reacts, you just know Ser Cane Clegane steps in to watch the knight walk out before closing the door and leaving Vanessa and you alone once again. Now though the serenity you once relished is a dream too.

“Princess,” Vanessa whispers with traces of pity, so you quickly shut her down.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about the plans Mysaria sent?” You abruptly change the subject to something you did not want to touch just yet but have to now. “Are they ready?”

Vanessa glances back and makes sure the door is closed before she stops braiding your hair and leans down to whisper. “All done. The food will be sent later tonight and should arrive in the morrow.”

Food. That’s the plan your mother has so far. It’s an excellent plan in response to all the hungry smallfolk just wanting food but getting scraps or worse from their King, and Regent.

The smallfolk will know who to thank and start to look at your mother with hope for a change, which means they will do as she wants and gain their love and support.

“We will make sure to keep away from the city tomorrow then,” you say and watch Vanessa back up to continue doing what she was doing. “It will be chaos.”

She hums and only seconds later the doors get thrown open and in comes your beloved husband in a huff.

“What is it?” You ask right away as you notice his nose is flared and his jaw is clenched.

He doesn’t look injured so it doesn’t seem like he got hurt at the training yard or anywhere else for that matter. He looks pissed though, so something is bothering him.

“It’s,” he heaves. “Aegon. He’s awoken.”

You blink in disbelief. “But,” you shake your head. “The maester said there was little chance he would wake.”

Aemond lets out a heavy breath and walks up to your vanity to lean against it so you’re able to face him and his contorted face.

“So he said, but…it seems my brother beat the odds. He fought for once,” he grumbles and drops his glare on his fiddling hands, so you give Vanessa a break before you lean forward and place your hands over Aemond’s cold but soft hands.

“He still can’t walk, or probably stay awake for that long for that matter,” you try to make his mind clear of all the thoughts rushing behind his eye and clouding his mind. “He won’t be that competent.”

Aemond watches his thumb brush over your fingers and whispers. “And what he did to you while I was away? Does he get away with that?”

You secure your hold on his hand and pull his gaze to you, letting you offer him an assuring smile. “He won’t be as he was ever again. That’s enough justice.”

Yet you aren’t completely satisfied yet, but that’s something Aemond can’t fulfill. You have to. You will.

“Is it?” He asks as if he can read the thoughts in your mind.

You offer him a small but assuring nod that he takes to heart. “It is.” You try to assure him, but neither him nor you are left satisfied. Yet that’s not something either of you share, you just individually know you will selfishly reach for that piece of justice yourselves because you won’t be left savoring even a piece of it.

——

*LATER*

Aemond has been caught up handling some business you don’t care about so you take advantage of being left alone and go visit your King, since he’s awake now. What a miracle!

You just want to check on him, on his wounds and mental state. You want to give him your best wishes so he can have a quick recovery. That’s all.

You tell that to his Kingsguard protecting his chambers, but it’s not like they had any say in letting you in or not. They’re hesitant, they make excuses that he’s going to take milk of the poppy and fall asleep again, but you don’t care. You walk in with your long beautiful gown flowing behind you, and a golden candle handler in your hand to light your way.

Oh, and when you walk in you don’t forget to continue humming a haunting and menacing song that sends a chill down the spines of the servants and the Maesters tending to Aegon, while the king himself is confused. One could say he felt like he was dreaming, your humming was faint at first, but the haunting melody still managed to swirl in his ear. Even as your silhouette was beginning to get conjured up on the curtains covering his bed, he did not expect you to appear out of your own will.

Thus when the sheer curtains are slowly pulled to the side and you appear there like some haunting ghost, he still does not think you're real.

“Leave us,” you cut your humming off to demand the maesters and the servant girls away.

“But—” a maester tries to argue, but you snap your eyes to him and shoot him a menacing glare that shuts him up and makes him bow his head.

“I will give him the milk of the poppy,” you add to reassure the maester while you return your eyes to Aegon.

Once you know that the maesters and the servant girls are gone, you start humming again, but this time much more softer than before, making Aegon more convinced that you’re haunting his dreams.

He does watch you walk to him slowly with your eyes fixated on his flared scars still red and raw, but all he knows for sure is that his breathing is picking up while goosebumps crawl down his spine as he also feels captivated. Even more so when you come to a stop just under the moonlight that reflects inside his quarters.

The bright light completely captures you in its soft hue. It makes the golden cuffs, and the golden rings holding the pearls in your hair, glimmer, while your long silver-white hair itself almost gleams like thousands of pristine diamonds. And perhaps that's your only intention, just presenting yourself, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if you intend to smile at him either, but you do and his chambers now are completely silent, striking more fear to his heart.

Yet he still thinks he’s dreaming.

“Did it hurt?” You fill the silence with your question and study the part of his face that now is forever scared because of the dragonfire that feasted on his flesh.

“I have always wondered,” you continue in a sweet voice while you tilt your head up just slightly to look at the bald spot that now leaves part of his head naked. “I can gladly say that I have never been hurt by fire,” you reveal and bring your eyes back down to meet his gaze while you let your fingers graze the flames that you hold on your candles.

“I have never winced at the touch of candle fire, boiling water has never scolded my skin or my tongue. And never have I once been bothered by hearths or pyres whose flame grows too wild. So,” you roll out and take a seat beside him on the bed. “I always have wondered what it’s like to feel hurt by fire like you were.”

A smirk tugs on your lips and he realizes at this instant as the candlelight shows off your smirk, that this is no dream. You’re actually at his bedside looking at him the same way Aemond looked at him earlier today, like Aegon was nothing, like he wasn’t still king. You're looking at him as if was pathetic and nothing but someone to take pity on; he can see those thoughts playing behind your eyes and on the corner of your lips.

You were sitting, but you now cast a shadow over him that made his cower. The same way he made you feel not long ago when he visited your chambers while Aemond was gone.

But that was your intention, that’s why you’re here. You have the power now, it doesn’t matter if he’s king. You have the power and he knows it, he sees that darkness in your eyes the same way he saw it in Aemond’s eye.

“I would say it’s like drowning. You have that need to fight to survive, but,” you click your tongue and lean towards him, making him swallow back nervously and attempt to scoot away, but to no avail. He can’t move a muscle. “When the fire is eating away at your flesh I can’t imagine you can move all that much. You must be paralyzed, cut away from every message your head sends to your screaming muscles, hoping that your adrenaline can be your salvation, but all it can do is give you the power to cry and scream out your pain. Is that right, Aegon?” You direct the question at him and look at him not with curiosity but with a mocking look.

“Le…”

“Ah-ah,” you click your tongue and drag yourself closer to him to shush him. “Don’t waste your energy. It’s okay.”

You flash him another smile and hold his gaze as you push the melting candles toward his already scarred flesh, making him gasp and start to heave.

“I just want to see,” you mutter. “Maybe hear you whimper just a little to know what it’s like, you know? Live it through someone else.” You chuckle.

“Crazy bitch,” he manages to say and you slowly grin and manage to get the flames close to his skin, to the point the heat stings. Yet before the fire can actually give him a peck you pull the candles away and just keep smiling at him.

“It was a jest,” you giggle and slither your fingers up to play with the flames. “Laugh. You like jests don’t you?”

He wants to curl his lips to a scowl, but his lips just twitch in some feeble attempt.

“Hm. Well, that’s all,” you end his torture and push yourself to your feet.

Before you can walk out though, you put the candle stand down on the bedside table and grab the milk of the poppy.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” you interject and twirl around. “You are going to be an uncle to twins, is that not great? We’re hoping for girls now since we have our boy…” you trail off and lean towards him to bring the milk of the poppy to his lips. “…our heir.”

Aegon lips part to attempt to argue, but you take that as a need for his sedative, so you bring the cup to his lips and help him drink the milk of the poppy. Once the cup is empty you pull away and replace it with the candle stand.

“Goodnight, Aegon. Sweet dreams,” you tease and twirl back around to leave his chambers, but not without continuing to hum your haunting song that you make sure to travel with until you know that the king or his guards will hear you. After you put some distance and your humming doesn’t echo in their ears anymore you return to the safety of your chambers in silence.

After that, you hoped not to run into Aemond, or find him in your chambers. You just don’t want to be bombarded with questions, that’s all.

Nevertheless, luckily Aemond doesn’t join you in your shared quarters until several minutes later, so you’re spared. And since you were donning your nightgown by the time he walked in he didn’t even know you had just returned either, so unknowingly both of your visits to Aegon are unspoken of, you just individually relish in the torment you gave him. Which honestly doesn’t paint you as the most sane couple or people at all, but at least now your hunger for justice is satisfied.

That’s what lets you both actually find a peaceful sleep, that little win.

Little wins are all the rage in times like now, so you cherish them. Even if they’re small and insignificant. Even if they have nothing to do with war and battle and have everything to do with your day-to-day lives, you cherish them. You cherish good mornings too, simple ones.

Happiness is even simple when you’re not taking it for granted, and when you know where to find it, like, waking up and having Aemond lay his head on your belly in an attempt to be closer to the twins, or in Aerion tugging at Aemond’s hair and fighting him to actually copy his father and lay on you instead since he understands more now that he’s 5 months old.

You can find happiness in Aemond’s faint proud smiles as he hears his son try and talk to him. In gentle kisses and sweet compliments he passes you, or something minimal like agreeing on something at the Small Council meetings which in turn overshadows the men around the table. You can even find happiness after the meetings in matters such as names for the babes that still have a ways to go before they’re born.

Does he raise a complaint though? No. He’s not needed at this precise moment so he lets you steal his time.

“If they’re boys, Aemon,” you say right away and make him blink with surprise. “Like his father. Just without the last letter so it’s not confusing.”

The corner of his lips tugs wider as he lets out an amused huff.

“And the second boy's name…well…”

“Maegor?” Aemond tries to end your sentence, but you glare at him and shake your head.

“No!” You chuckle. “No, I am not naming our son Maegor. Do you want the gods to spite us?” You ask the question in a whisper in the fear that the gods will hear you saying such a name.

Aemond snickers and leans forward to press his hand on either side of your lap as you sit on the edge of the table, and he sits in his chair. “You believe that to be true? It’s just talk.”

You scoff and shake your head again to get your point across. “Talk or not, I will not leave it to chance. Not when it comes to our children.”

Aemond hums and you slowly lower your gaze to bring up the name Helaena suggested, one you want. “What about Laenor?”

You feel his stare weighing down on you, but you can’t look him in the eye out of fear of rejection.

“My father was always good to you. We would go fishing together, and he would take you sailing with us…I do not know if you want,” you bring up different cases to try and convince him because you know how Alicent and those of the court viewed your father.

“All right,” Aemond doesn’t take time to think about it, he gives in and you slowly trail your eyes up to meet his gaze with relief and happiness.

“Really?” You query.

Aemond nods and you flash him a joyous smile.

“But,” he interjects and sits back with a lighthearted smile. “What if they’re girls or one of the other?”

You flash him a smirk and lean back on your hands. “Well, we have our first name…”

“Daenys,” you both say at the same time and you nod excitedly and beam at him.

He hums with a smile playing on his lips and you tilt your head to the side to share the other name. “And the second, Naerys. Or Daenerys. You can choose.”

“They’re the same thing,” he mutters and you scoff and lean towards him.

“No! No, they're different. Completely! But you can choose between the two.”

He rolls his eye and quips. “How generous of you.”

You shrug innocently. “I’ll even let you choose between all four if we get a boy and girl, hm? So pick!”

He hums and taps his fingers on the chair's armrest before he takes a deep breath and shares his choice. “Daenerys and Aemon.”

A pang of pain hits your heart and your smile falls, he watches you with a serious look that shows he’s being serious, so you sit up and look at him as if the answer actually hurt you. “What?” You mutter in disbelief. “But, my love.”

He raises an eyebrow and remarks. “You gave me the freedom to choose the name of our children. I chose.” He says and leaves his lips pouted as he waits for your argument.

But he is right…

“Well,” you grumble without hiding your disapproval. “Fine,” you deadpan and look down to fiddle with a gold bead that’s embroidered on your gown.

Aemond tilts his head to try and find your eyes but you keep turning your head further down so you miss the smirk that tugs on his lips as he sees you pout.

“It was jest,” he clarifies as he stifles his laugh, and leans forward to press his fists on the table.

You raise your head and snap your glare at him. “Ha. It was not funny.”

He snickers and you nudge his shoulder. “Daenys has been my top choice since we were kids. You know that.”

He grins and nods. “I remember. You bugged me about it hundreds of times.”

“Exactly,” you press with your eyebrows raised. “So?”

He unfurls his fists and slides his hand on your thigh to rub it with the gentlest touch. “Daenys and Aemon,” he now gives his honest choices.

You nod and can’t help but throw your arms around his neck since he’s already so close, and glance at his lips, but manage not to give into your temptation, instead you smirk and whisper. “Do you think Daenys and Aemon will get into as much trouble as we did?”

He gently slides his hand up your thigh before he swings his arm around your waist and quips. “You got in trouble, not me. I was there to try and get you out of trouble, or danger.”

The corner of your lips spread up and bliss glimmers in your eyes. “Okay, but you did not discourage me.”

He narrows his gaze and counters. “I did, many times. You did not listen.”

You giggle and loll your head to the side, making his eyes follow your lips moving before he flickers his gaze back up.

“Well then Daenys and Aemon will learn to be better at avoiding trouble,” you rebuttal, making him scoff and not hold back anymore. He leans in for the kiss and you let him mold his lips into yours while you wrap your arms around his neck.

As he deepens the kiss he trails his hand away from your waist and agonizingly slowly drifts his hand down your hips, and then down the length of your thigh to hike your skirt up and slither his hand under to now slide his warm palm up your thigh, leaving a blazing trail that makes you press yourself closer to him to the point your chests meet with all the breaths you take.

You want him to touch you where your body aches for him the most, but he instead grabs your hips with both hands and with a swift and fluid motion slides you off the edge of the table to make you straddle his hips.

“Aemond,” you chuckle between heavy breaths, and he responds with a cheeky smirk before closing the small gap between your lips as if it were impossible to live for a second longer without the taste of your lips.

Yet no matter how hot your passion blazes, that is suddenly snuffed out by a knock on the door. Which you should’ve seen coming, you are in the Small Council chambers, but that doesn’t matter to Aemond, he still gets frustrated.

“What?” He seethes.

You can’t help your cocky smirk before you lean in and bite his bottom lip before moving over to sit on his lap to wait and watch who dared cut into your private moment.

When the intruder walks in though you see that it’s Ser Jason.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” he offers his condolences right away with a bow of his head. “I just received news,” he shares and brings his head up to display an almost terrified look. “A riot has started in the city where the Great Sept is, and Queen Helaena and the Dowager Queen are caught within.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and while you digest the news, Aemond basically rips away from his seat to try and go out to save them himself. However, no matter how rageful he is, or his thirst for blood, neither him nor you are allowed to run to their aid.

The smallfolk are angry, your mother and Mysaria’s plan worked. The smallfolk got the message that they were trying to get across and now they want an answer, justice for not getting treated right by the King ruling over them, the King who is supposed to feed them. And they have every right to be upset, to demand an answer for how poorly they’ve all been treated, but to take it out on Helaena? That’s something you can’t accept, that’s something that doesn’t sit right with you.

If only you had known that they planned to go to the city today, and you could’ve come up with some quick excuse to keep them inside. Anything to keep them from entering the wrath of the Smallfolk after they got the food from your mother. But you did not know, and now you can’t do anything to help Helaena but watch from a tall tower as a sea of people rush through the streets. All you’re left to do is wait, and hope that the Kingsguard can do their job, while your mind conjures up violent scenarios in response to your distress and…guilt.

Nevertheless, in response to your helplessness, and the panic that makes you breathe heavily, Astraea surprises you by flying over the tall tower Aemond and you stand on, and flying down, casting a large shadow over the streets of the city as she directs herself to the Great Sept, without as much as you needing to tell her a word.

And since she is large and her purple scales stand out against the sun, you see her swoop down on a building near the Great Sept. Albeit since you can't see what she sees, you miss the fact that she was quick to find Helaena and Alicent. You miss the warning shouts from the people who had caught her flying over in a hurry, but thanks to the calamity no one paid attention to the warnings, no pair of angry eyes caught even a glimpse of the purple dragon until her shadow cast over the crowd trying to tear at Alicent and Helaena.

Even then it's too late because by the time she lands on the edge of a building, Helaena and Alicent have been pushed against, Astraea is quick to react in defense of Helaena; the person your heart is crying over at the moment, the person you hope and pray is okay, and the person you love with all your heart.

There’s no doubt she’s there defending her because even from the tower Aemond and you stand on in the Red Keep, Astraea’s rageful roar is heard. And from where Helaena and Alicent are, her roar rattles the foundations of the buildings, it shakes the pebbles on the ground, and sets fear in the people who were just brave enough to go after the Queen and her mother.

Now those people who ran at the Queen, run away from the dragon ducking her neck and head down to shield her from any incoming danger. When someone ballsy enough tries to take a step close to Helaena, Astraea begins to snarl before she opens her mouth and snaps at them, coming close to actually taking a bite, but not managing to scrape them.

She just wanted to scare them, she wouldn’t actually bite anyone unless provoked by someone. She just has her guard up and is being protective. And she doesn’t lose that fierce need, she continues to bear her teeth until she spots Alicent rushing Helaena to the wheelhouse. After that Astraea hovers above the wheelhouse and doesn't part from them until she sees them go past the Red Keep gates because that’s the only time that you actually find relief.

After that Astraea circles the castle until you’re inside tending to a distressed Helaena, while her mother gets tended to as well, albeit she actually ended up getting cut, Helaena is just shaken up and a bit dirty, that’s all, but you still help her as you swallow back your guilt.

After all, you can’t control the Smallfolk, you can’t control their emotions. You just wish you would have known Alicent wanted to take Helaena into the city. That’s all.

“Do you want to know something?” You ask Helaena.

She hums and you share your thoughts while you wipe away the dirt her face collected in that riot. “I admire you for having twins. You were young too, I can’t imagine it was easy. I don’t know how you did it.”

Helaena’s eyes flicker to you and she looks at you seriously before she interjects bluntly. “I just had them.”

You stop what you’re doing and drop your gaze to look at her with slight disbelief before you snort softly and move behind her to undo her messed-up braids.

“I…will have to go thank Astraea,” Helaena speaks up much to your surprise, since up until now it was you who was trying to make conversation. “She protected me and my mother.”

You smile proudly. “We can go after this, how about that? She should be nestled up by the cove.”

Helaena nods gently, and the door proceeds to open, causing Helaena to ball her hands, and grow stiff after having a very hard time relaxing. Which is why you get ready to kick the intruder out, but you then come to see Aemond striding in.

“What is it? Have the rest of the Kingsguard returned?” You can’t help but ask as you grab the brush from the small table.

“All but one,” he says as he looks down at his sister unable to find that peace once again.

“Did you find out what exactly happened?” You act clueless whilst you start brushing Helaena’s hair. “What started the riot?”

Aemond walks over and chooses to lean against the couch to be able to occasionally meet your gaze when you’re not focusing on what you’re doing.

“It was Rhaenyra,” he says, causing chills to crawl down your spine at the sound of your mother’s name coming out of his mouth out of slight fear he will reveal that he knows the letters you have been sending her— “she sent food in boats which in turn made the people get mad at us. As if we’re the ones holding the blockade.”

You don’t give any other reactions besides comprehension and feigned disbelief, as if this is the first time hearing about your mother’s malicious plans.

“Well,” you sigh and pretend to breathe out a stressed-out breath at the mention of your mother. “We are the crown. We’re supposed to be taking care of them. How would you react if you could not feed your son because the people who are meant to protect you aren’t doing anything to break that blockade or feed them?”

Aemond’s gaze hardens, but you don’t back down, you challenge him and press your point so he can understand where their anger is coming from.

“They’re desperate, angry, and what my mother sent only fueled them to act out in the only way they would be heard,” you argue in their defense, making Aemond drop his head and shake it in disapproval.

“We’re trying,” he snaps and hastily brings his eye up, but you’re focused on brushing Helaena’s long hair so you just feel his burning glare.

“They do not know that,” you rebuttal. “We know that here, but they do not. Look I am not telling you what to do Aemond, I am just trying to make you see why they reacted the way they did.”

He hums and you finally drift your eyes up and watch him lose his gaze on the ground to try and collect all his thoughts on the matter and on what you just told him.

“I’m all done Helaena,” you direct your attention back to her and back away to give her space. “Why don’t you change into something different, finish your tea and when you’re done, or when you want, we can go see Astraea, hm?”

Helaena nods while you walk around her to face her with a gentle smile. “You’re okay now, okay? No one is going to hurt you here.”

Her distant blue eyes meet yours and you see her fear still clinging onto her, so you attempt your best to try and rid her of that agonizing fear. But you’re also careful, you know how she is, you know she doesn’t really like being touched, nor does she tolerate any loud noises. You also know she’s still rattled and a bit paranoid that the chaos will find her in her chambers, so you’re slow as you crouch to not trigger her. You let her know in a whisper that you’re going to grab her hands before you cradle them.

“You’re okay,” you make sure to say in a gentle and caring voice so she can feel assured, so she knows that you do care about her wellbeing.

“I know,” she nods stiffly and turns your hands around to study your palms for a moment before her thumb hovers over the ice burn you carry and reminds you of what you left behind.

“I will only leave until you assure me you’re fine,” you tell her.

She draws in a deep breath while stealing a glance at her brother behind you who is paying close attention to the gentle way you’re caring for her sister. He would say perhaps you’re coddling her too much considering her age, but he also appreciates that you don’t shame her for not being the fighting type. He likes that you’re so doting and sweet with Helaena.

While Helaena herself catches that appreciation in his eye as you hold his attention captive, and wonders how you must feel that he can’t share even an ounce of care for your own siblings. She actually wonders a lot about you when you plague her dreams, she wants to tell you all that she sees about you, you and Aemond, you and…your future, but her words don’t come easy, so she’s left silent and just staring hoping that somehow someone can read what she’s thinking.

She wishes you could see that she is indeed fine, but that doesn’t come easy either with her look still captured with fear, thus she looks back at you and gives you what you asked for. “I’m fine.”

You hesitate just in case she ends up changing her mind, but when she doesn’t follow up with a protest, you draw out a deep breath of your own and stand to your given height to step away from her. “We’ll be in the Red Keep and I’ll be waiting, okay?” You let her know, making her offer you a quick nod that seems like she’s brushing you off more than anything, but you and Aemond still leave and let her be.

And it’s only once the doors of her quarters are closed that you speak on the matter at hand. “What will you do with the Kingsguard?” You ask since Alicent said they escalated what was already happening. Or they gave the people an excuse to get violent.

“Aegon's friends are the ones who triggered the smallfolk to attack when one of them cut off a man’s arm,” he grumbles in frustration. “Which I can’t say surprises me, they have been incompetent since the start, they’ll serve better as dragon fodder, but alas, men of the Night's Watch are here, so I thought of having them banished there.”

“Hm, I think that’s an excellent response to their actions,” you praise his thought. “The Night's Watch is always in need of men, especially now that winter is around the corner.”

He hums and his eye then falls on you. At first, you don’t notice, don’t feel his stare because you’re in your own mind, but as your gaze drifts to the side you catch his stare before he can look away.

Any other time you would have brushed him off, but in contrast to that hard and blazing glare moments ago, now his eye is softer, and his blue eye isn’t clouded by the darkness of his anger.

“What?” You query.

He blinks and looks ahead before he mutters. “You just would have been good at it. Being Queen.”

Out of all the times you have confessed that dream, that desire to someone, the response is always the same. They always just take it as a passing thought, as a forgotten dream you just let them know about. Aemond is different though, he’s the first one to validate that desire, that forgotten dream still very much alive in the depths of your soul.

Is it in response to try and be something special in your mother’s eyes and those who forbid you from having such a dream become a reality? Who knows, but it still lingers there and he grasps onto it, and starts to pull it out of the abyss.

You know you shouldn’t keep dreaming, you should let go of his hand to let that dream fall back into the depths of the abyss where it will be forgotten once again, but…how can you let a hand go when it’s pulling you towards a glorious light?

A part of you wants to be free from the abyss, but as you’re blinded with clarity you think about your mother and your brother, and you can’t fathom ever betraying them like that. Your path is set already, and you can’t let it crumble and destroy what you worked hard to pave. You can’t turn your back on your mother over a dream that’s out of reach, that you had once been okay with letting go of.

You have to let go and stop being so hopelessly foolish, even if the temptation is hard not to cave into.

Thus you take Aemond’s compliment with a graceful smile and add nothing else on the matter even if your heart is swooning.

Thankfully he doesn’t add to the matter so you’re saved from further temptation. Instead, you follow him to the courtyard where Aegon’s Kingsguard friends are pushed to their knees, scared and nervous without a doubt over what fate the Prince regent will bestow upon them.

“Kneel before the Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen!” A guard announces as he and you descend the stairs to the courtyard, side by side. “And his lady wife, the Princess Regent…” he trails on to say your name.

Rather than sticking by Aemond’s side and watching the sentence he will give the Kingsguard though, your eyes go wide with glee as you spot an old, old friend from your time as a ward to Lady Karstark.

“Ser Mattias,” you whisper in disbelief and pick up your skirt to rush over to him and forget about your husband and the trial he’s conducting.

“Princess,” Ser Mattias greets with disbelief as he realizes that it’s really you.

“What a joy it is to see you, and,” you pause and study his all-black attire which differs wildly from the last time you saw him sporting bright white and typical greys and blacks with the sigil of his lady's house. “…All in black.”

Ser Mattias scoffs and tilts his head down to take a look at his own attire as if taking note of what he sports now, and what it means.

“And you,” he redirects and looks back at you to bow his head, making his long, dark locks dip with him. “Princess Regent, and…” he trails off to glance over your shoulder. “Weighed down by shadows.”

You glance at your sworn protectors before you pass Ser Mattias a smile. “It’s good to see you old friend, but I have to ask why you’re all in black now.”

Ser Mattias shifts on his feet and sighs. “After Lord Bennard tried to usurp Lord Cregan, I took the mantle as a brother of the Night's Watch. Perhaps I did serve his lady wife, but I still served their house,” he shakes his head gently. “I could not stand behind the treason, the sully to their name.”

You sigh and look at him with pity. “But Ser it was not your fault, Ser Bennard’s choices were his own. Not yours.”

“It does not matter, Princess, I could not stand for it. Nor did I have a home to return to, thus I joined the Night’s Watch and I’m better because of it,” he explains, letting you fall silent as you come to understand his reasoning, while also starting to wonder about someone after he mentioned his name.

First, though you make sure Aemond is still distracted with the sentencing before you casually bring him up since it’s not out of the ordinary. “An army from the North marches South, and their Lord leads them.”

A faint smile spreads on Ser Mattias' chapped lips and he nods stiffly. “Aye, I have heard. We will cross paths if the Gods let us.”

You nod slowly in comprehension and peek over at Aemond to keep making sure he’s distracted before you bring him up since you know you can trust Ser Mattias. “If you could Ser, pass a message to Lord Stark, for me?”

The man doesn’t react as you thought he would, nor should you have expected him to in truth. He and many others knew Cregan and you were great friends. You’re just overthinking.

“Of course. You and Lord Stark are still friends?” He asks and you nod before you pass him the message before Aemond can interrupt.

“Tell him…I’m okay. I'll be okay, and if the Gods are generous perhaps we’ll join each other on the battlefield.”

Ser Mattias shows he understands with a nod before he confirms his comprehension out loud. “I will give him the message.”

You let out a deep breath and nod your head before you step back and peer over your shoulder, catching at that moment, Aemond’s eye find you before he makes his way over with his hands behind his back, his head high, his back straight, and his chest puffed out as if trying to scare away the old man sworn to chastity.

“My Prince,” Ser Mattias greets and bows his head.

You pull on a smile and wait for Aemond to fall by your side before hooking your arm around his. “My love, this is Ser Mattias, he was Lady Karstark’s sworn protector when I was her ward.”

“Aye,” the man agrees. “I watched the Princess grow up for three years of her life, and grow from disdaining the North to falling in love with it.”

You giggle and Aemond crosses an arm over his chest to grab your hand as if trying to prove something to the man before him.

“She will be able to tell you the dire need of men in the Night's Watch,” Ser Mattias makes sure to take advantage of Aemond’s presence to ask for capable bodies. “Winter is coming and the threats will worsen. So please, any prisoners you may have rotting in your dungeons, send them to us.”

You glance over at Aemond and watch him offer the man a stiff comprehensive nod before he finally breaks his silence. “I will keep it in mind, Ser. Now I’m sure you have a long journey ahead of you, and prisoners who already require your attention.”

You shoot Aemond an annoyed side eye while you slowly slip your arm away from his. Albeit he refuses to let you go, so he discreetly tugs your arm back to keep you interlocked.

“My Prince,” the man bids his farewell with a small bow. “My Princess, it was an honor seeing you again.”

“And you, Ser,” you redirect softly. “Safe travels on your way back to the Wall.”

“Thank you.” He nods and without another word turns to follow his brothers out the gates. Aemond then turns away without letting go of you so you can stick at his side as if you will wander away or get lost on your way back inside the Red Keep.

Does that stop you from peering back at the man already paces away?

No, you still peer over your shoulder not because you long to leave too, not because you will miss the man, but because you know he will see Cregan...

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“Lord Ormund Hightower makes slow progress.” Lord Lord Jasper shares what he knows. “There is great concern that his host is threatened on two fronts by armies allied with House Beesbury.”

Something that has caught your attention about this faction is that these great armies surely do complain a lot. You don’t remember men fighting for your mother complaining or asking for more assistance for a threat that has not hit them yet.

How annoying.

“However,” the lord continues over the ruckus that comes from the streets below and is actually loud enough that you hear it from the room. “In happier tidings, Prince Daeron’s dragon, Tessarion, has at last taken to wing—“

“Eyes on the horizon!” A distant shout starts to steal your attention.

“Your brother expects to join the fight soon—”

“Dragon!”

It can’t be Astraea, they would not make any commotion for her anymore. And Vhagar wouldn't alarm them either, so is it Sunfyre? Has he returned?

“…and when he does, the Hightower host will be unstoppable,” Lord Jasper tries to talk over the commotion, but that only turns to panic.

“Dragon! Inside! Now!”

Can it be your mother? Or daemon? Both?

Aemond turns his gaze to you and you both speechlessly come to the same conclusion that the panic is caused by an unknown dragon, there isn’t any other explanation for such a commotion, so you both rip away from your chairs and stride out to the balcony, where you see all the chaos first hand.

Like when they threatened Astraea when you first got to the city, now all the guards on the walls collect all their courage and point at a large dragon. One you can’t make out right away, but as it flies toward the city at great speed you instantly recognize the spectacular beast.

“Silverwing,” you announce her presence breathlessly as your mind wanders to who her rider might be. Is it Rhaena?

Last you heard of her she went to the Vale, but she could have gone back to Dragonstone, this might be her…

But why would she come to King's Landing alone?

There doesn’t seem to be any other dragons so it’s safe to assume Silverwing is alone, so why would Rhaena fly here?

Unless…it’s someone else? Who though? You need to know.

Nevertheless, once again Aemond seems to be interlinked with your current running thoughts because without sparing another moment he pushes himself away from the railing and twirls around to storm away.

He doesn’t ask for you to come but you don’t wait for an invitation, or care if he wants you to stay, you follow at his pace and can’t help but wonder who could be mounted on Silverwing. You want to think of anyone, someone you might know, but no one comes to mind, and those who do would not be stupid enough to bring their dragon to King’s Landing for a damn joyride. Because that’s what it seems like it is, a joyride.

Silverwing does not seem to be attacking, nor does she linger over one place. They don’t even land, they just fly, so whoever is on Silverwing must be pretty ballsy, and you need to know who it is, or perhaps protect them from Aemond and Vhagar’s wrath in some discreet way where it seems to Aemond that you’re attacking when you’re only scaring them away so they’re out of his reach.

But you can only do that if Aemond doesn’t forbid you from flying out after against them. You have already talked about this matter and come to a conclusion, but you still expect him to stop you, to tell you to stay put and wait for him to come back with a report.

Albeit he does not, he doesn’t even try to protest in some discreet way. When you finally reach a courtyard he doesn’t stop you from mounting a horse. He lets you ride out with him side by side, and between your curiosity and disbelief, you feel glad that he’s keeping to his word. It only makes your blood pump faster.

Yet nothing beats that rush when you hear your dragon’s threatening cry as she matches your enthusiasm and flies out to meet you without having to be told verbally, without having to go out to meet her like Aemond to Vhagar. As if in sync with each other's desires, Astraea flies past the city walls at the same time your horse sprints out of the city gates, and without having to come to a stop, and without having her land on some empty patch of land, you throw your arm out and stretch your fingers out.

Astraea’s shadow then casts over Aemond and you as she reaches you in a split second, but she doesn’t slow down to wait for you, she keeps at her. speed, seeming like she’s going to fly past you, but then a rope brushes over the tip of your fingers, so you grab onto it and wrap it around your wrist to be pulled off the horse as she continues flying forward; making you look like a sailor swinging across the deck of their ship, or out to danger.

Now, you usually don’t tend to mount Astraea using the rope, you tend to climb her, but in emergencies such as now, you use the rope, and strain all your upper body muscles to scale up the rope as she’s flying at a great speed over green lands.

Once you throw yourself over your leather saddle, Astraea peers back to make sure you’re secured on her back before she lets out an excited screech that matches the excitement you feel pumping to your heart, and then flaps her purple wings to pick up her speed and go faster than she already was without worrying over Vhagar or Aemond. You leave them behind because you know they’ll eventually catch up and pursue the stranger on Silverwing, the dragon that once belonged to Queen Alysanne, and who is mother to your own dragon.

Besides, leaving Aemond and Vhagar behind gives you time to know who rides Silverwing without having to be hostile. However, since Silverwing does have the lead, there's a pretty big gap between Astraea and her as she seems to be heading back to Dragonstone. Not like her having the advantage really matters, Astraea can be fast, especially when she’s excited or agitated, like now she’s as curious and rushed with as much thrilling excitement as you are.

So much so that she flaps her large wings and then dips down with her wings tucked to gain speed, managing after a few flaps to get close enough that you’ll be able to see who Silverwings rider is. You just need them to look down, but it doesn’t seem like they’re aware of you, or Astraea. Which indicates that they must be brand new to dragon riding, or stupidly careless.

Either or you need to know who they are exactly, but your voice won’t be carried out through the rushing wind, Astraea’s can though, so she speaks for you with a rather unthreatening chitter. She’s just loud and harsh enough that her noise will travel fast through the air and hit the ears of Silverwing, and her rider.

And as expected without having to call out a second time, Silverwing tilts her slim silver body to the side, letting you see the back of the rider before they look back and reveal who they are; some middle-aged man, with a plump face that matches his rather plump body, dark greying hair that flies over his shoulders, and a terrified look painted on his pale face.

He also seems to be dressed rather poorly, so does this mean he’s some bastard commoner? Did your mother really become so daring as to trust the Smallfolk to ride dragons for her? Because there’s no way Silverwing went out in search of this man, she hardly flew too far from Dragonstone, she isn’t as adventurous as Seasmoke, and with no rider, there wasn’t a reason to fly out to King's Landing or any city, so that can only mean that this was your mothers doing, but why didn’t she tell you?

Did she know you would be against it? Sure you have a soft spot for the Smallfolk, but to trust them with dragons? You can’t really trust strangers with polluted dragon blood. They can turn on you before you can know it. You can’t trust them, they’re not family.

But she seemed to trust them…so you have to…make sure Vhagar doesn’t touch them.

If only the man knew that you’re no threat, he looks like he’s about to shit himself with how scared he looks over your sudden appearance. That will not bode well for Silverwing. She’ll sense his fear and take you and Astraea as a threat, but there’s no way to make the man understand you won’t hurt them, you’ll just have to make Astraea slow down to put some distance between her and Silverwing.

“<Slow Astraea,>,” you tell your dragon in High Valyrian as you lean forward to caress her neck. “<We're on the same side.>”

Astraea chitters softly and tries to do as you say, making the man’s eyebrows pinch together and then ease as his fear turns to confusion. Yet Silverwing does not seem to go through the same emotions, because from one second to another she whips her tail down and smacks Astraea across the face.

“<Astraea!>” You call out in horror and watch her squirm her head out of pain before her brown eyes snap up and she lets out a pissed roar. “<Calm down!>” You try to ease her quick risen anger.

However, a deep guttural roar rips through the cloud bank behind you in response to Astraea’s rageful roar, and it seems that Vhagar gives fuel to Astraea’s anger because she then does exactly as you wanted her to do before, she slows down and hides from Silverwing in the cloud bank, causing the man to think you and your dragon stopped the chase because you’re out of sight.

Alas, that’s what Astraea wanted Silverwing and the rider to think. She wants them to lower their guard and waits for them to descend from greater heights to be just low enough that they’re close to the body of water you fly over.

You know she’s up to something, you can hear her groaning, and see her gaze pierced ahead and then fall, but rather than stopping her, you let her give in to her anger so you can scare away the rider and Silverwing because as you pay attention, you hear Vhagar. You see her in the distance and you know Aemond won’t hesitate to attack. Thus you let Astraea act out.

You actually let a smirk play on your lips, you relish in the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you think of what Astraea has planned. Which will give this new rider the wrong idea, but that’s what you need at the moment, you can’t blow your cover, and…a part of you doesn’t care that he gets the wrong idea about you. You…salivate over the thought of having him be scared of you.

It’s why with that mischievous longing in your heart, you welcome Astraea’s charge towards the water as you remain undetected. When you approach the water's surface you duck your head and draw in a deep breath to hold it in as your dragon dives in the cold water. And considering she’s more than fond of these antics when you’re riding her, you don’t show fear or panic, you actually tear your eyes open and find awe as you see all the wonders that live in the water.

They’re simple wonders like fish, simple deep and blue waters, and common undersea plants, but as if it’s the first time taking it all in you’re completely captivated by it all, but not forgetful of your current dire situation. You prepare for Astraea to resurface by closing your eyes and ducking your head again. Once your drenched body is smacked by the cold rushing breeze, you wipe the water off your eyes before you open them and then sit up, coming to see at that moment, as your eyes connect the shadow over you to its owner, that Astraea is now directly below Silverwing, and the silver dragon is none the wiser.

Silverwing did not hear Astraea dive in the water, nor does she catch her and you flying out and torpedoing toward her. Her rider is in the same affair, only Aemond and Vhagar see what you’re doing from a distance, and you know for a fact that neither will give you away. A proud and malicious smirk actually spreads on Aemond’s face, easing the frustration that has him all stiff. And that pride only heightens and mixes with awe as he catches how Astraea opens her mouth to get ready for the attack as she gets near the silver dragon.

Albeit just before she can chomp down on Silverwing, the silver dragon finally catches Astraea and is able to swerve the attack, making Astraea bite air.

“Damn,” you hiss under your breath and tug the handles away to steer Astraea away, but Silverwing is rightfully pissed. She flies head first toward Astraea before she tilts her body back to hook her claws on the Astraea.

However, before your dragon is gashed, she flips her body swiftly to be on her back and have you be upside down for a second before she flips to her other side and puts some distance between her and Silverwing.

“<Calm down now Astraea. That should be enough,” you tell your dragon as you pat her neck. “You did good girl. Leave her be now.>”

Astraea roars out at Silverwing, and the silver dragon responds with a louder and higher-pitched roar, but neither dragon goes for another attack. Astraea listens to you and lets Silverwing gain the advantage. The rider steals paranoid glances at you, but you don’t attempt to share any reassuring looks so he knows he’ll be fine, you feed his fear by passing him a malicious look that is the last thing he sees before he finally gains a good distance from you and your raging dragon.

After that, since you’re done with your charged pursuit you just follow him the rest of the way to Dragonstone since Aemond and Vhagar are still on Silverwing’s trail. You get so close to home in fact, that Astraea has to swerve to one side to avoid flying over land, in doing so letting you see the welcoming and relieving sight of your mother.

Your mother is there on the ground, and not alone either, she’s guarded by Syrax, and the great Bronze Fury, Vermithor, he’s there too, which is unbelievable really, but you can only give your attention to your mother who is struck with surprise as she sees you passing by. While you come to realize at the same time she does that you’re just out of reach, but still far from one another and not able to touch. The only thing you can do is pass her a prideful look for her achievement because regardless of your distrust and disapproval of this new plan, you’re still proud that she got to achieve such a feat in not only gaining a rider for Silverwing, but Vermithor too it seems! Proving how capable she is not only as a ruler but a warrior too.

You’re proud of that and you make sure she sees it with your smile not only on your lips but dancing in your eyes too.

Yet your pride and bliss are fleeting, taking your adrenaline with it when you fly over the shore and see Seasmoke with a rider. Which shouldn’t be surprising as it is, your father is gone and Seasmoke is free to bond with anyone. It was going to happen eventually, but…he was your father's dragon, he was a part of your father once and your heart always remembers your father every time you look at Seasmoke. Your heart aches every time you see the silver-grey dragon because you think of your beloved father.

Now when you look at Seasmoke you’ll see a new rider and the cruel reminder that your father won’t ever come back. He’s gone forever, and Seasmoke will now be someone else’s. He’ll be a part of someone new, someone…

Wait…

You blink and as the cloud of grief passes you come to recognize the man on Seasmoke; it’s Addam! Addam of Hull?!

But…but how?!

Who…

Oh…

Oh!

It’s not beyond the realm of possibilities, the realization that slams into you. There are other possibilities of course, but why else would your grandfather pester you and bother himself to introduce you to Addam’s brother Alyn?

You thought it was weird at that moment. Why would you care who that man is, and why would your grandfather put so much trust in a man when it came to sending him to King's Landing to check on you last year?

It’s because…Addam and Alyn, are his offspring. Potentially, but very likely. It explains why Addam is on Seasmoke!

Damn, now how can you assure yourself that it’s actually fact and not a wild assumption? Ask your grandfather? Yeah right, like he would ever confess to it. And it’s doubtful anyone else knows if it’s true.

Did your grandmother know?

Who knows.

Regardless, you want to know now, and you need to tell Aemond about Seasmoke too when you get home. It doesn’t seem like he noticed Addam and Seasmoke from where he was and because he turned away before he could get a closer look.

However, you don’t follow him home, Aemond leads you and Astraea to an elevated green mountain near the town Sharp Point rather than returning home right away, which…can’t be good. If he wanted time alone he would find it at home, not near this town.

Yet here he is and he’s pissed. You can see his face contorted with anger, his jaw clenched, and his gaze distant the moment you dismount your dragons.

“You saw it?” Is the first thing he says as you make your way to each other. “The dragons and their common born riders.”

You try to figure out his thought process, but there’s also so much in your mind, so your curiosity is second place to everything else.

“I saw it, and I saw Seasmoke too,” you share, making him grimace and turn his head away to simmer in his growing anger.

“But,” you add and step closer to him. “That’s not the most important fact. I know his rider.”

Aemond’s gaze immediately returns to you and his gaze narrows while his eye digs itself deep inside you to try and figure out what you mean by that.

“He has a brother that my grandfather introduced me to when we went to Driftmark,” you continue to heighten his jealousy and curiosity. “I thought it was weird that he would bother himself to introduce us, and then he revealed that he sent that brother to our engagement tourney, and now I think he did all this because…they might be…his bastards?” You say more like a question as if Aemond would know the truth.

“It explains why Addam can ride Seasmoke,” you explain what is clear, but then begin to drift back to confusion and cluelessness. “But I do not know, I can’t be sure. And it’s not like I can just ask my grandfather.”

Aemond swallows thickly and turns away to get lost in thought. You let your mind wander too, but as you do you also remember where you are, and what you think Aemond might do to this town in response to his anger for your mother’s achievements.

“Do you realize what this means? This dragonrider?” Aemond makes his silence short and turns to face you, making you slowly turn to face his gaze now not tense with jealousy, but softened with pity.

“If he is Lord Corlys’ bastard then he and the brother might be legitimized, and one of them may be turned heir of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides,” he shares what you did not even realize, you were so stuck on the fact that he might be your grandfather's bastard that you did not see the bigger picture. And now that you’re seeing it in its totality, that worry you had for this town is completely diminished.

“But,” you argue effortlessly as if weakened by the cruel but real assumption. “He said he would make Aerion his heir.”

Aemond sighs deeply and closes the gap between you to grab your arms and hold your gaze with your breaths brushing over each other's faces, and the warmth that radiates off him blanketing your still damped body.

“But now his bastards are fighting wars and bonding with dragons, they’re older, don’t you think he’ll favor him over our son?” He presses and only makes a sadness puncture your heart, and the need to know the truth that much more significant. After all, why wouldn’t you expect something else to be taken from you?

They took your role as heir, and now they might take your son's role as heir of Driftmark.

“Do you…” you trail off and drop your head to try and find an answer, to try and contradict that new fear Aemond planted in your mind. “Do you think he would?” You ask with a great sadness dulling your eyes while also making them gleam so brightly with the tears that cloud them.

“Why wouldn’t he? They already took your role as heir,” he says in a softer tone now as he reaches over to grab your face, forbidding you from feeling alone as your heart is once again troubled with sorrow, disbelief, and…growing anger.

Anger you can’t exactly feed without knowing if it’s true though. You need to know if Addam and Alyn are really his bastards before you can let this anger take root.

You need to know.

“I need to talk to someone,” you tell Aemond with determination. “I need to know if it’s true or not, and I know my grandfather would never say, so I need to go ask someone who will know.”

Aemond blinks and his eyebrows knit together. At first, he assumes you’ll ask one of the Hull boys, but you then tell him otherwise.

“I need to go ask the Red Priestess, Kinvara, she’ll know.”

Aemond parts his lips to rebuttal but you cup his hands and assure his worry. “I’ll be okay. I trust her. She’ll tell me the truth.”

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- something wicked this way comes ;(;

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan

[damn-stark]

Chapter 12 The Siren’s trick

Chapter 12 of Moonlight

A/N- Welcome back Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark

Warning- Swearing, talks of death, and sexual harassment, ANGST!!, fluff, SPOILERS, ser gwayne (tehe), LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- Only part of 2x03

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

—Cregan this might be a cold continuation from what I was previously writing, but it cannot be helped. I did not want to leave you waiting, and I did not want you to hear rumors about me. And really, you are the only person I can tell what I’m about to say.

This will be my first and last letter. I am returning to King’s Landing, to infiltrate the Greens on Daemon’s behalf. I did not want to, I had told my mother I was not going, but just tonight they sent someone to kill her in her sleep, she got saved, but I cannot stay here and do nothing when I can be on the other side and be the thing she needs to win this war.

I might be killed, or I might not. I do not know, it’s a risk I am willing to take for my Queen. And if I am killed and this is the last time I ever talk to you, thank you. For everything…

I left my mother a note, I apologized for leaving and bestowing her with even more worry. I told her that I’m willing to do anything to help her get her throne back. Yet the one thing I did not tell her was how scared I am to return.

I’m terrified. I’m truly terrified. I knew fear, I felt it when I was in labor, but this fear I feel now is new, grander, and more horrifying, but it’s my duty to leave and help my Queen even if I have to leave behind all that I ever wanted.

I hope we see each other again. Take care of your boy.

Love, yours truly, your Darling.

“I know I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize to Aerion as he begins to whine after being woken up when you take him from his cradle. “<But we’re going to see your father, hm?>” You try to assure him Valyrian so the guards outside don’t hear and go alert your brother or your mother.

And even if you don’t think Aerion would quite understand what you offer him in return for waking him up, he actually smiles faintly in response before he settles against your chest as you cradle him against you.

Luckily the guards don’t question why you’re taking your child out so late at night, they don’t care that you’re dressed in a different gown than the one you just wore earlier. They watch you scurry away in a hurry without as much as a single comment which will probably get them in trouble with your mother when she finds out you're gone, but they don’t know you’re disobeying her and sneaking off Dragonstone to go into enemy territory.

No one knows, you told no one to make it easier on you

and on them, and also so nobody would try to stop you; even if not so deep below the surface you’re hoping someone will catch you rushing down the corridors and stop you. You don’t want to leave, you don’t want to be under Aegon’s rule now that he’s king and no one can truly tell him what to do. Before he would already get away with commenting stupid shit when Aemond wasn’t around you, and your friend and handmaiden Vanessa was spared from his tactics because you would tell him to leave her alone, but now that he has superior control and power?

But then there’s also Aemond. You don’t want to face Aemond. You don’t want to look into his eye and pretend you’re okay with the heartbreak he caused you and your family. You don’t want to sleep next to the man who killed your brother, and no matter the gaping hole in your chest, you don’t want to let him touch you in the most intimate way. Most importantly you don’t want to leave your family again. You want to stay, you want to fight amongst them.

You want someone to catch you mid-escape and stop you.

Someone. Anyone.

You get closer and closer to the cave's mouth where the dragons come and go, where you’ll find Astraea and Vanessa waiting, and still, no one comes out from the darkness of their rooms, and no guards question why you’re strapping Aerion to your chest as you rush down the corridors.

You’re only paces away. Moments from reaching your dragon, and finally you run into a presence.

“Grandmother,” you mouth breathlessly and finish securing your child’s straps.

Your grandmother looks you up and down, realizing your gown is not one used to sleep, and Aerion is too secure around you to just be heading for a stroll. You’re up to something and she’s the only one to notice.

“Granddaughter,” she greets and glances out the window in the distance to double-check that it is in fact still nightfall. “Why are you not abed?”

You swallow thickly and even if you hope she stops you in your attempts, you interject with your argument. “The Queen got attacked by Ser Arryk, who pretended to be his twin.”

Your grandmother nods. “I heard. That’s why I am here. Is her Grace all right?”

You nod lightly. “Shaken, but okay…I have to do this,” you continue blurting in your defense. “I have to do what Daemon told me to do in hopes that it will be my mother's path to her rightful throne.”

Your grandmother nods again but this time it’s a much more gentle nod as her face fills with concern yet also shows slivers of pride.

“I don’t want to return to King’s Landing, I don’t want her to feel like I abandoned her, but if it stops more of the people I love from dying or getting hurt, and if it gets her on that throne then I have to try,” you share without making it a question because under your hesitation you believe what you say.

“Don't stop me,” you lie and internally shout the opposite with tears clouding your eyes, but not falling because you fight them back to try and look confident. “It’s the right thing to do. And I’m the only one who can do it.”

Your grandmother holds your gaze and right away reads you like a book; she sees your fear, she notices how you plead with your eyes to be stopped, but she also sees your desperation to help, she sees your determination, and your hunger to do more. She sees a warrior, a woman she’s proud of, and she can’t say no to that because she knows that beyond all that fear you’re desperate to help.

“They’re snakes,” she speaks sweetly but with confidence so you could feel the same. “And you’re a dragon. Always remember that.”

You draw in a deep breath and nod slowly. She approaches you and grabs your face, making you look her in the eyes and see the pride she feels for you.

“If you ever find yourself in trouble send me a raven or whatever it is you can. Meleys and I will be there as soon we can, okay?”

You nod in comprehension and grab a hold of her hands as if your life depends on it.

“I love you, grandmother. I will see you again,” you muster to say with a tender smile and no tears.

“I love you too,” she redirects as she caresses your cheeks. “Be careful.”

After one last lingering look you pull away before you’re caught by someone who will stop you, and step out into the cave still hoping the same, but feeling more empowered now to leave and play your part.

The feeling of being so close to the stars does have a way of calming the nervousness that has your hands trembling and ties your stomach into knots. The sight of the glimmering sea basked by the moon's light does help you escape your terrorizing fear and feel at peace, like all you’re doing is taking a late night flight, admiring the stars from the heavens, and answering the sea's call. It's easy to find your resolution in the tranquility, now rather than panic, the belief that your path will lead you right back to Jacaerys, your mother, your grandparents, and your cousins makes you feel at ease over your choice. This is also why you’re leaving, after all, to be with them in a better world.

Yet just as your breaths are calm, and your heart eases to its normal resting beat, the moment you see the crowded and lively city, the large castle on that cliff, and notice all the eyesores that are the Scorpions aligned the top of the wall, your stomach twists tighter to the point you feel like vomiting, your heart pounds faster, and your chest tightens which is a new and unwelcoming change.

“DRAGON!” You hear the echoes of men coming from below as they all work hard to point the scorpions at Astraea calmly coming to a stop so they don’t have the audacity to shoot her.

“Vanessa,” you say and peer over your shoulder. “Wave the white flag so they know we’re no trouble.”

You then glance down at your aware child and caress the back of his little head. “<We’re almost to your father, okay?>” You whisper to Aerion before you press a light feathered kiss on his head. “<You should be sleeping though, hm?>”

Aerion has learned to blow raspberries thanks to his uncle's Viserys and Aegon, so he responds with spit all over your chest.

“<Lovely,>” you mutter, but then again it beats getting peed on. Which he has done, a lot, luckily most times Aemond is the victim of his son's incidents.

“Okay,” Vanessa steals your attention as she grabs onto one of your shoulders to wave the white flag you made sure to bring for this exact purpose.

However, in the midst of waving the flag of peace, and while some guards hesitantly drop their threatening aim, a large arrow is shot at Astraea unbeknownst to you or Vanessa. It comes whizzing at you as the flag continues to be waved in the sky, but luckily, thanks to the gods, Astraea notices the arrow coming at her from the corner of her watchful eye and jolts down before taking a sharp turn.

You let out a shocked gasp whilst also becoming alert of all your surroundings, and Vanessa throws herself on your back to keep herself secured.

The arrow aimed at your dragon's neck luckily flies past you and her thanks to your dragon's efforts, yet missing doesn’t spare your dragon's fury that mirrors yours.

“<Stupid idiots,> you grimace and snap your glare at the men who are to blame, finding them confused but also alert. They don’t see your piercing glare, but your dragon mirrors it before she lets out a loud and furious guttural roar.

“<Astraea,” you call out and lean down as much as you can to caress her side. “Calm down. Calm down, girl.>” you coo in High Valyrian in hopes she’ll listen, but she’s too clouded with anger, after all, she knows you didn’t come with intentions of fighting, and she knows that Vanessa and baby Aerion are straddled on her so she begins to circle around as she shakes her head and keeps throwing out angry shrieks.

“<Astraea,” you call again without losing your patience. “calm down. Calm down. We’re okay. You saved us. We’re okay, calm down girl.>”

Astraea finishes her circle and opens her mouth, letting out low chitters as she prepares to blast out fire at the men responsible.

“<Calm,” you coo and pat her. “Calm, my girl. We’re fine. We’re safe. Calm.>”

Astraea slowly closes her mouth and peers over to meet your gaze and assure herself that you and those with you are fine.

“<We’re okay,>” you assure her and pass her the same emotion with your eyes.

Astraea holds your gaze for a moment longer before she looks ahead at the same time you do.

“Are you okay, Vanessa?” You make sure to ask in the common tongue as you let out a deep and relieved breath.

“Yes, Princess,” she assures you. “Aerion?”

You glance down at your son and see him smiling which probably means he found Astraea’s antics amusing.

“He’s fine,” you say with relief of your own and caress the back of his head while noticing that all the guards now drop their aim and depart from the Scorpions, letting you push your handles forward to nudge Astraea down.

Nevertheless, when Astraea is descending to the ground, just past the Iron Gate, all those nervous and uneasy feelings come rushing back after you were rattled with fear and anger over acts of stupid people who don’t know what white flags mean.

When your feet hit the ground though, and you see castle guards already waiting for you by the gates, all those feelings that overwhelm you, increase tenfold. Now your blood pumps so hard that it interferes with your sight.

“I have renounced the…false Queen Rhaenyra,” you hide the strain in your voice as you say words you don’t mean, before also saying words that actually hurt you to say. “I have come to pledge my loyalty to King Aegon.”

The guards look at one another with confusion so you interject. “Where is Ser Criston Cole? Why is he not here to greet me?”

A commander steps forward and raises his head before he fills their silence without giving you the answer you sought. “Give us your weapons, Princess, and come with us.”

You shrug the satchel of arrows and your bow off your shoulders before grabbing your gown's skirt and pulling it up, making the man look away and miss the dagger you had strapped around your thigh. Once he sees the weapon land at his feet he meets your gaze again.

“I request an audience with the King, and my husband,” you demand with your nose in the air as the men pick up your weapons.

“They were alerted of your arrival,” the guard says and steps back to point ahead.

Before you walk past the gates you scoff and sass him. “Was my husband alerted of the incompetence of your men on the wall, Ser? A white flag means what?”

The man swallows thickly and lowers his head as he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Surrender or a request for parley.”

You feign a dry laugh and nod. “Yes, yet an arrow was shot at my dragon whilst my son and my handmaiden rode with me. I will have all the names of the squadron who shot that arrow.”

The guard nods and steals a glance back at your dragon still behind you, growling as she watches for any wrong moves that might be made.

“Come with us, Princess,” the guard finally guides you forward and you’re hastily helped in a carriage that rushes you inside the castle walls where you’re immediately repulsed by the green and gold banners that are plastered everywhere.

The sight of them actually saves you from your torment, but only for a little because once you’re inside you’re slammed with all your emotions and you can’t help how your eyesight only seems to focus on what’s directly ahead of you. Everything else is swallowed by darkness as all your senses falter, and your heart and blood pound.

A part of you immediately expects to get ambushed once you walk into the throne room, and another part of you fears being greeted by Aemond alone because you know he won’t delay, he would come straight down the moment he was told of your sudden and ominous arrival. You would worry over Aegon, but it’s still dark out, and you can’t imagine he dropped all his temptations because he was bestowed with a great purpose, so you know for certain he won’t be waiting for you upon the throne.

Nonetheless, when you hold Vanessa’s hand in anticipation and approach the welcoming throne room, all you actually see is an empty hall and an empty seat.

Hundreds of candles light the hall, but it doesn’t make the throne room feel less unsettling. You once used to feel unbothered by the great room, after all, this was your home, you knew the meaning this room held, but you could never say you felt awe. It was another room. Now though, you feel uneasy like, when you walk into a stranger's home. Most of the hall has remained unchanged, besides the banners and large statue of your grandfather King Viserys in construction, but besides that, it's remained the same. Yet you can’t help but feel at odds.

You don’t like the ill feeling, you don’t like that besides the guards and Vanessa, the throne room is lonely. It only works to worsen what you already feel. It only makes the Throne Room seem dark.

You’re consumed by darkness and it makes you want to run and return home where it’s warm and surrounded by those you love. You want to leave. You shift your feet to storm away without any thought, but at that precise moment, the throne room doors open once again, welcoming in a shining light that casts on the ground and rolls down to your feet.

You expect a rowdy greeting from the King, but in the silence you capture the shadow of a tall and slender figure get painted on the ground instead. Now you need no help figuring out who the shadow belongs to, you know who it is without having to look back. Just like you recognize the sound of his footsteps as they climb down the steps.

You would know his footsteps blind and deaf, by the mere vibrations that strike the ground. You could recognize him by just his alluring scent, by his breaths as they furl in and out of his body. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know that it’s your husband, it’s Aemond.

He was the light that filled this hall and unwantedly calmed down your urgency to run.

And as if attracted to the light, you look back. Every muscle in your body yells at you to not look, your mind shouts at you to avert your gaze, but your bleeding heart can’t resist, it makes you look back to see him; the man who killed your brother, your husband, your Aemond, surrounded by the very candlelight that attracted you.

He meets your gaze and you meet his, causing your heart to skip a beat, and a breath to escape past your lips, whilst you also capture the disbelief written so plainly all over his face. It's almost like he can’t believe you’re standing across from him, and how can he?

You look like a dream to him with the way the moonlight and all the stars shining through the large windows bask you in their luminous light, making you look like a beautiful deity. A divine angel sent to him from above with the blessing that is your child.

And how can he not expect you to be some otherworldly presence? He sent letters in hopes you could return home so he could explain what happened because he knows how much you love your brothers, but you never came. Not until now, here you are standing under the throne, watching him without missing a step, with betrayal, and heartbreak he can easily read off your face.

He expected anger, but all he sees is pain. Heart aching pain that sets his world off its axis.

He had hurt you before, six years ago, but not like this. Six years ago when he accidentally cut your face he saw disbelief and horror, pain too, but not like this, he never heard your silent ‘why?’ screams that your eyes shout out at this moment. He never saw sorrow droop your eyes like they do now, and his guilt for hurting you was never as tremendous as it is now.

He hurt you, the one who’s loved him like no one has before. The person who’s brought him only happiness, and a blessing in your son. That’s why he wants you to be angry because he did something he can’t take back—and he does expect you to be overcome with anger later, you’re not one to swallow it down for him. Yet right now all he sees is disbelief and agony that gets more and more painful the closer he gets to you, until finally, you rip your eyes away when he’s only a few feet away.

“Look,” you coo at Aerion with a smile and stinging tears brimming in your eyes. “Look who it is, my love.”

Aerion yawns back mindlessly since he can't pick up on your sadness, he just sees your smile that begins to fade as you pick him. When his eyes drift to the tall man getting closer to you though, that exhaustion that threatened to take him to sleep completely disappears. Instead, his face brightens the moment he sees Aemond, the father he’s longed to see since he left home.

Yet before Aemond can take Aerion in his arms, you halt your attempts to hand your child over when you catch the elegant silver armor of the Kingsguard gleaming against the candlelight as they approach from the far left end of the throne room. Only these Kingsguard members aren’t the ones from before, they’re new, younger, and probably stupider considering they’re Aegon’s drinking buddies.

You would want nothing more than to share a judgemental look with Aemond, but now that he’s closer you can’t even have your face turned his way; which is why you get the perfect view of the Usurper, the false King Aegon, trudging in after his dimwitted Kingsguard with his clothes unbuttoned, his hair unsettled, and his eyes red with exhaustion or something else you don't recognize. Either way, he doesn’t look Kingly, not even when he’s caught off guard, but you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt only because it’s the middle of the night—Unless he’s drunk that is…

“Your Grace,” you utter words that once brought you pride to say to your mother, but now bring you disgust to say to him. Even the thought of bending your knee is a struggle to think about, but you know that you won’t get far without showing the respect he wants to see, so you force yourself down to your knee to someone so undeserving.

Luckily he doesn’t sense that disgust, you mask your emotions well behind your sorrowful face set to hopefully gain their sympathy while you try to enchant them with your plea for mercy.

“So it is true,” Aegon breaks his silence while he slowly approaches you behind his Kingsguard, as if cautious that you would try anything with Aerion still in your arms. “You are here.” He scoffs and you catch a hint of amusement, but you’re left with nothing to do in the regard but pretend.

“I come to renounce the false Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” you swallow your pride and leave no pauses, even if you can feel yourself straining as it feels like you’re hurting your mother with such cruel words. “I come to pledge fealty to ward the King, as well as ask for his forgiveness.”

You pause and bow your head so he can feel pride and superior over your current state which is something you never once let him feel with you. Not until now.

“I come to beg for mercy and a second chance,” you go on and don’t stop even if you hear the main doors opening before two pairs of footsteps filter in to join the audience already gathered around you and your handmaiden; as if you were a spectacle to gawk over.

However, in many ways you are, who would’ve thought that Rhaenyra’s own daughter would leave her precious mother's side to join the enemy?

It was expected of you since your husband is part of the green faction, but Rhaenyra is still your mother, and you have had chances to leave her side already but you haven’t until now. Why?

That’s on everyone’s mind but yours, that’s why they watch you carefully and never let Aegon get too close.

“I saw my wrongdoings,” you continue to sing your plea with a soft and sweet voice. “I saw my mistake in trusting Rhaenyra. I cannot stand behind her, I cannot support her after what,” you swallow thickly and look up to meet Aegon’s surprised gaze. “…she did to Helaena and Jaehaerys.”

Aegon’s eyes harden and every form of amusement he had upon seeing you on one knee is lost and replaced by slow-burning anger that is so rare to see on him. Yet it does nothing to actually scare you.

“I'm sorry. Please forgive me, My King.”

Someone falls by your left side where Aemond stands as well, but you don't see who it is because you’re too focused on Aegon parting away from the safety of his Kingsguard to approach you with that same hardened gaze seething with anger.

“To your feet Sweet good-sister,” he rolls out as he also motions you up with his fingers.

You hesitate, but slowly push yourself to your feet, causing Aerion to squirm as sees his father again.

Aegon sees and his lips twitch before he smugly barks an order without letting you out of his sight. “Take the child.”

Your eyes widen and that sorrow you expressed turns to panic. “No!” You cry out and press Aerion against you to protect him from the reaching hands whilst you desperately look over at Aemond with no regard to your previous feelings that were just tormenting you and forbidding you from looking at him.

“He has no fault in this Aegon,” Aemond interjects right away, making you notice Ser Criston is the one by him since he moves in between Aemond when his sword hand twitches.

“Aegon,” you hear the Dowager Queen Alicent interject, giving away the fact that she was the second person who had walked in late.

You had wondered where she was, you’re sure she would’ve been told you were here right away. You suspected she would already be here waiting for you, but she came late.

“What?” Aegon chuckles and raises his hands. “I mean no harm to my nephew. He’s my brother's son. He’s just in the way.” He quips and makes sure to look at you with a new sense of smugness now that he has you rattled.

“No,” you remain defiant and glare at his Kingsguard slowly approaching you while also glancing over at Aemond seething and glaring daggers from the side—“I will not let them touch him. Not them.”

His Kingsguard stop as if they were listening to you and look over at Aegon in confusion as to what to do next. Especially because Aemond still stands there menacingly.

“I will take him,” Alicent volunteers instead of Aemond. “Give him to me,” she tells you and approaches you with her hands out.

You may not like her, but one thing is certain; whatever hatred she has for your mother is never redirected at Aerion, she seems to love him just as much as she loves Helaena’s children. And Aerion does love her too since he is more accustomed to her presence. It’s why after one kiss on your son's head you hand him to Alicent, and motion Vanessa with your eyes to stand by her.

“I never would have expected you of all people to return,” Aegon interjects, making you drift your gaze away from Aerion completely taken by his other grandmother, and refocus your attention on the man before you.

“Yet here you are begging for mercy.” He feigns a smile that falls quickly. “Why should I believe you?” His voice grows cold which contrasts his burning glare.

“Why…” he trails off and smiles tauntingly at the ground before he suddenly lunges at you and grabs you by the throat, but not tight enough for you to actually gasp for air. His grip is just wrapped around your throat.

Not like it matters to Aemond either way because he still reacts in the blink of an eye by trying to lunge at his brother. Albeit he gets stopped right away by Ser Criston; proving to you at that moment why Aemond hadn’t taken Aerion just now, he was more concerned about you and what Aegon had up his sleeve. And he has every right to worry because Aegon is daring now that he’s king, now that he has control and no one to really tell him to stop. He pulls out the Valyrian dagger that your grandfather Viserys would carry, and slowly brings the tip to your throat, making you fear him for the first time. Not because he’s terrifying, but because no one has threatened your life before.

“…shouldn’t I pluck your eyes out and send them to Rhaenyra?” He finishes what he was winding up to say. “Along with your head. Firstborn for firstborn, hm? That would be justice.”

Aegon is careful not to puncture your skin as he drags the tip of the dagger up your face, as if teasing you instead of threatening you.

“She killed my son, why shouldn’t I send her your head?” He sneers as he watches the way he moves the dagger up your cheek. “Unless it was you who sent them.”

The tip of the dagger is pressed against you so you're careful not to shake your head, even if you want to further get your defense across.

“No,” you immediately deny him even if you shouldn’t, you should stay quiet, but you can’t just stand quietly as he wounds you by throwing false accusations of something you would never do. “I would never hurt Helaena,” your voice quivers. “I-I love her. I would never hurt her. I would never hurt anyone’s child, I’m not a monster. I would never do that.”

Tears fall down your cheeks but Aegon wipes them away as he keeps moving the dagger up to bring the tip inches away from your eye, causing Aemond to groan and push back against Ser Criston’s arm.

“Let me talk to her,” Aemond interjects as Ser Criston digs his feet into the ground and fights back the prince's push forward. “I will talk to her Aegon.”

Said man scoffs and shakes his head. “No. Gods no. You’re too enamored by her,” he says and laughs. “She would just bat her eyes and you would let her go. You have always been too sweet on her. No. I will continue talking to her. If she behaves she will not get sent back to her mother. Do you understand?” He directs at you now and shifts his hand holding the dagger, causing the candlelight in the distance to reflect on the smooth metal, and entrapping your attention to the gleam before your focus gets entranced by the fires lit in the metal stands.

It’s just an arm's reach away, you can grab it and tilt it on him. Your hand wouldn’t burn, but he would. He would stop touching you and not be so close. It can work.

But the war wouldn’t end and you would only die or be locked away for certain. You can’t do it, you won’t. Thus you look back at his stupid smug face.

“I will spare your son's life because he’s my nephew, but you,” he presses and brings the knife back down to your throat. “You’re just another bitch—”

You clench your jaw, and Aemond grimaces, making Aegon’s smirk deepen.

“My brother would not do better, but there are plenty of bitches to choose from,” he remarks and starts to rub his thumb on your neck, making you stiffen and start to actually, deeply feel horror.

“Stop,” you plead quietly but loud enough that Aemond can hear. “Stop it.”

Aemond pushes back harder as he hears you, but Ser Criston still manages to hold his ground.

“Why should I not kill you now?” Aegon asks. “You’ve been parading about the Kingdom asking for other Lords' loyalty for your mother. You bent the knee to her. You have no real sense of loyalty.”

“I was wrong,” you repeat yourself. “I was blinded by my love for her, but I am not now. I see clearly now. You are the true King. I see that now. Besides, how could I stay over there with Daemon wanting to kill Aerion for what happened?” You throw out a lie so they’ll be more willing to believe what you're trying to sell. And you actually get Aegon to hum, but as he keeps making you uncomfortable by caressing your neck.

“You do have a dragon,” he gets a point across. “But would you really attack your family?”

“My grandfather,” you blurt in hopes that will get him to stop his threat and stop what he’s currently doing. “My grandfather is going to make Aerion heir of Driftmark, and Lord of the Tides, but those efforts will be for naught if you kill me.”

Aegon glances at his side before slowly pulling the dagger away from your throat.

“If you kill him Aerion would be the next lord of Driftmark, which means that we could give you control of the fleet,” you add, making Aegon stand still for a moment as he takes in what you just said.

“We need that fleet, my King,” Aemond jumps into your defense. “With Aerion being so young we would be in charge until he becomes of age.”

Aegon nods slowly in comprehension but he then tilts his head and clicks his tongue. “But killing Lord Corlys will take time. If it happens at all.”

“I will fight for you,” you roll out as enticingly as you can to try and enchant him with your voice. “Let me fight for you, for my family. I want to come home.”

Aegon sighs deeply and stares deep into your soul without looking for help from anyone. And you look at him and lift your chin slightly to exude confidence you don’t feel at the moment.

Not like Aegon actually notices how shaken and fearful you currently are, or else he would pick on that and really make you feel small. He only sees what you want him to see, it’s why your song works on him and all the others.

“Fine,” he breathes out and finally lets you go, making you fall on your knees out of defeat as to what he was doing, and letting Ser Criston let Aemond go.

“You may return home. You will not join any of my councils obviously, and your dragon will be put in the dragon pit. If you step a hair out of line I will have you killed and sent to your mother.” Aegon clarifies.

Astraea is the way you’ll get your messages across but getting her out will be no problem, and you didn’t expect to be welcomed at the council anyway. The plan was always going to be you using those tunnels your mother used to use. Aemond is the only one you’ll actually disdain.

“You should know,” you mutter to get the last word in, which is bold, to say the least, but you can’t stay quiet after he was touching in that way. “Ser Arryk was killed by Ser Erryk because he was doing his job by protecting the royal family. That’s how I escaped…” you trail off and slowly lift your head to look at Ser Criston with a smugness playing in your eyes.

The Kingsguard briefly meets your gaze before he turns his head away without inputting anything. No one actually says anything in the regard.

Aemond then proceeds to approach you and offer you his hand, but you just glare at him before you turn away and help yourself up to go to Aerion.

“Thank you,” you offer Alicent you’re genuine gratitude before you take back your son.

“Of course,” she says. “I’m glad you’re both back home.”

You offer her a fake faint smile before you turn away and walk back to Aemond to hand him Aerion, who is immediately over the moon by finally being carried by his father. You cannot say the same, you actually make sure to turn away quickly so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. Instead, you address the commander who had greeted you outside to avoid a silence.

“Ser, if you would be so kind as to round up your best men tomorrow at the training yards after breaking fast. My son and I need a sworn protector with this war so rampant. If I depend on the new Kingsguard I’ll find my son sold for a flagon of wine or a pretty whore,” you say without shame and watch the knight snicker and glance over at the men you were so boldly speaking of before he looks back at you and responds with a comprehensive nod, letting you not take a second longer to finally try and leave the damn hall and these people. Yet not before you wipe that smile off the commander's face

“Oh and give the list of names of that squadron to Prince Aemond, he would like to know who the men were that shot at my dragon and our child as we were waving that white flag.” You finish and peer back with a serious look that actually turns out to be menacing.

Once you’re out of the hall, you would have liked to say you could catch your breath and find any sense of satisfaction, but the tension is quick to follow you out.

“Vanessa,” you interject after a while of striding toward the royal apartments. “Just grab a change for tonight and tomorrow morning. We can get anything else we need tomorrow.”

Aemond hears your commands and looks away from Aerion to watch you instead.

“And don’t worry about a cradle, Aerion can sleep on my bed tonight,” you continue to give orders, piquing Aemond’s attention even more, and making him forget that child so fascinated by him.

“What are you doing?” Aemond asks, but you ignore him even if you feel ticked off.

“My old chambers are available, we will both stay there. I won’t put Aerion in danger.”

You know deep down Daemon won’t try and hurt your child unless he means to hurt your mother in the meanwhile, but your hatred for him blinds you and makes you see him as a threat even though there’s no real need for such hostility.

“Yes, Princess—”

“No,” Aemond cuts Vanessa off bluntly. “You will not move the Princess or Aerion’s things anywhere. They will not be moving anywhere. They will stay where we are.”

You clench your jaw but continue to ignore his grating presence, as well as Vanessa’s brewing confusion—“Don’t worry about protection, the night will be short tonight because of how late it already is. We will hopefully have that situated by tomorrow—”

“Are you listening to me?” Aemond blurts and catches you off guard when he grabs your wrist and pulls you to a sudden halt so you can face his pointed glare.

Yet you don’t give him the satisfaction of being submissive, or looking away and walking off. Nor do you actually give him what he wants, at that moment you remember that you have to hold back for the sake of your purpose and your Queen. There’s things you want to remark and throw at him as he ruffles your anger, as you look him in the eye and stand so close, but you need to hold back, it has to be helped even if a cascade of memories follows, and have you challenging his glare for a moment before you rip your eyes away and look at your son in his arms to remind him he’s here witnessing it all.

“Vanessa take Aerion for a stroll so he can fall asleep,” Aemond interjects as he holds your gaze. “It’s past his bedtime. We can spend more time with each other on the morrow.”

Vanessa glances at you for the okay, but you don’t look back at her, you keep your eyes on Aemond even if your heartbeat picks up under his heavy gaze, letting her come to the conclusion herself and take Aerion from Aemond.

The boy does begin to whine after being parted from his father, but you don’t stop her either, knowing that there will be tension you don’t want him to see.

“I am not going to stay in the same room as you,” you make yourself clear and pull your arm away to start storming to your shared quarters.

“Do you think I am going to leave you and Aerion vulnerable and all alone?” Aemond counters, making you scoff.

“Does it really matter what happens to me?” You spat back in regards to who he killed, but he chooses to ignore that.

“Of course, it matters. You know that.”

You shake your head in disbelief and continue on quietly, letting him fill the silence for you. “You will stay where you are. It’s where you belong.”

You continue to stay quiet all the way to your shared chambers, which is unlike you, he wants to hear you argue as if that will help cure the strain made by the murder, but you stay quiet and don’t even fill the air with anything when you’re in your room. You just go and try to grab something to sleep in, but he immediately stops you by grabbing your robe and throwing it aside.

“I said no,” he hisses, but you reach for another, making him grab what you pick up and pull back.

“Let go, Aemond, I am not staying here. I am not going to sleep with you!” You bark back and grab his wrist to yank it away, but he rebuttals by grabbing your hand and overpowering you with ease.

“You are staying, and Aerion is staying here where I can protect him and you,” he makes it clear to you, letting you realize as you try to avoid looking at him that Aerion’s cradle is placed at the end of the bed instead of being in his own quarters.

“I do not need you to protect me,” you counter and let go of the robe to try and reach for another, but he crouches down and grabs your arm right where Daemon had grabbed you, and pulls you up.

“Let me go,” you fight him and ignore the ache in your arms as he presses on your bruises. “Don't touch me. Let me go, you're hurting me.”

As soon as Aemond hears those words his grip eases, letting you rebuttal by pushing him away. “Leave,” you cry out and can’t find the strength to hold back anymore, you forget the role you’re meant to play, your purpose for returning, and let your anger burst out from its confinement, resulting in you shoving him back.

“If you don’t want me to leave then you leave. Go. Get out!” You exclaim.

Aemond lets himself get pushed back again and only makes you grow more aggravated that he refuses matching your anger. “I do not want to see you. I do not want you to touch me. I do not…” you trail off and push him back toward a shelf. “I do not want you here. Get. Out.” You innouncate through gritted teeth, but Aemond doesn’t get the hint, he doesn’t care about the anger behind every shove, or the disdain behind every single word.

“He’s gone because of you. My brother is gone!” You finally express what has been stuck in the back of your throat, what really fuels your anger. You finally share the betrayal that you have harbored and that has played in your eyes since you first saw him in that throne room. “Get out!” You raise your voice and shove him back against a wall, but get no reaction in any way. He lets it happen, he watches your anger, and he lets you express it even if it brings violence.

“Get out!” You cry again and hit his chest, hoping he will move, that he will finally stop infuriating you more and react by at least stopping you, but he doesn’t fight back, like usual.

“Out! Out! Get out, Aemond!” You start to lose your cool and hit him more and more, each time your fists getting backed with more strength, while your chest gets heavy, and your eyes finally start to fill with tears as the sorrow you held back breaks out and starts to accompany your anger.

“Fight me back! Fight back you fucking killer. Fight me back!” You shout shakily. “You killed him. You killed Luke. You took my brother away from me. You…” you come to a stop and can’t yell anymore, your throat stings, and your chest starts to ache to the point it gets hard to breathe really fast. “You…”

Aemond watches you move your hands back to go and hit him again, but this time before you can make contact with his chest, he grabs your wrists and pushes you back, making you hold his gaze as he does so and not let go, even if his gaze his heavy and burns in you, even if he pulls you back to him with ease and causes a warmth to wash over you as he holds you close.

“Let me go,” you try not to mewl, but you can’t help it anymore. You can’t hold that anger over your agony. “Let me,” you groan.

Aemond parts his lips but doesn’t end up saying anything, instead he only attracts your eyes to his lips with this need that comes from deep down. You do manage to drag your eyes up after a second but find his gaze heavy and focused on your parted mouth before he lolls his head to the side, and slowly meets your tear-filled eyes.

You proceed to flicker your eyes down and he leans forward, expecting you to pull away, but you stay put as if magnetized to him. As if a slave to your need dwelling deep inside where you don’t want it to be.

“Aemond,” you whisper and his blue eyes find yours, letting you see how dilated his pupils are, but also how soft his eyes are with…distress you can read with ease.

“Why?” You ask in the intimacy of the moment where it’s just you and him, your husband, your lover, and your best friend. “Why did you do it?”

Aemond's eye falls and his lips slowly form a frown. You want to see what he feels, what he fails to say so you tilt your head down to look into his eye and get your answer, but he turns his head away and mutters. “Why did you come back if you hate me?”

“I…” you don’t finish, but you softly shake your head just enough that he notices the motion and peeks over at you.

You need to say it. You need to say what you’ve felt when you were away. He killed Lucerys, your beloved little brother. He hurt your mother and your brother. He betrayed you in the worst way possible. But those feelings you had thought of only sprung up because you weren’t looking at him. It was easy to think you hated him, but now that you’re looking at him, now that you feel his breath unfurl over your lips, and feel his heartbeat under your palm as you press your hand against his chest, you can’t muster a syllable, or conjure it in your heart. No matter how hard you try.

“I did not come for you,” is all you can muster. “I came for Helaena. Not for you.”

And deep under your conflict and your mission that is true. You did come for her in her worst moments where she needs what her family can never give her.

“Hm,” Aemond hums and welcomes a coldness to your wrists as he finally lets you go.

“You did not answer me,” you bring up your previous question. “Why did you do it? He was sent as a messenger, not a warrior. He was just supposed to deliver a message and get an answer, that's all, so why? Did he do something? Did he say something?”

Aemond swallows thickly and his gaze gets hard before he deadpans. “You and Aerion are staying here. I will lock you in here if I have to. Do not make it hard.”

His gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he slips away even if he knows you are waiting for an answer. Just a simple one if need be, something to give you peace of mind, but he goes to the door looking like he isn’t going to stop until you fall on your knees the moment you can’t hold strong anymore. Everything you felt collapses over you and you break down.

Aemond hears your sobs, it unsettles him, and tugs at his heart, but even if you’re the only one who can ever cause such an effect, he doesn’t go to your side even if at that moment you wouldn’t have pushed him away. He lets out a deep breath and leaves you alone.

He doesn’t return until hours later just moments before the sun could break into the sky, finding Aerion fast asleep in his cradle, and you balled up on your side of the bed. He thinks you're asleep, but you couldn’t find it, so you heard him walk in quietly.

You hear him take his belt off, and pull his boots off to be able to approach the end of the bed without alerting the sleeping babe, going unaware at that moment of you peeling one eye open to watch him caress Aerion’s cheek ever so gently as to not wake him before he smiles faintly, causing your own heart to involuntarily pick up in its speed before it jolts when he steps back.

As to not get caught you immediately shut your eye and listen, catching his footsteps go around the bed and approach you.

At first, you think he’s going somewhere else, but his scent then intoxicates you as he stops beside you, causing your racing heart to ease as if his scent was the only key to calm down. He proceeds to stare and you know that you feel that deep down, you feel his eye on your face before it leaves a burning trail down the upper half of your body.

When it comes to your exposed arms that you can’t hide anymore, he hooks his finger on the blanket and gently pulls it down before he runs the tip of his finger on the bruise marked on your flesh, and keeps it there as if the touch alone will give him the answer as to what happened.

After a moment he groans with what seems to be frustration before he lifts his fingers and suddenly surprises you by caressing your cheek before he brings his face down, letting his long silver hair tickle your shoulder, while his breath unfurls over your cheek.

You try not to hold your breath or move, but he makes it hard as he lets the warmth of his lips mingle over your cheek.

Is he going to kiss you or not?

Yes?

No?!

You wait and wait until he suddenly pulls back and his footsteps recede, letting you open your eye to catch him walking around the bed as he takes his vest off, showing how his back muscles move fluidly with him. And thanks to the light starting to peek in you can see how smooth and sculpted he looks under such a soft light.

You want to see his face, his torso, and those perfect abs, but you close your eyes and remember what he’s done, and once again you’re cast with…sorrow.

——

*LATER*

Stupid ache…

“Vanessa, could you have tea prepared for breakfast? I woke up with all different kinds of aches,” you grumble and slip on your shoes. “My head is aching, and I feel a bit nauseous.”

Vanessa hooks the last jeweled chain on your back to the golden broach on the shoulder part of your deep blue gown, and then slowly peeks out from the side with her eyes filled with curiosity. “Princess I have been meaning to ask. When you were in Winterfell…”

Oh is she trying to get the gossip? With everything that went on after you returned from the North, you never had time to tell her what happened.

“Did you…”

Before she can finish what she was building up to the door opens and Aemond walks in with Aerion, making Vanessa groan because once again she was left to hold in her question.

“I will prepare the tea for you princess, but perhaps you should see the maester?” Vanessa purposely says at the wrong time, causing Aemond to peek over—“You did not eat your dinner yesterday because of your stomach ache.”

You side-eye Vanessa, but she doesn’t care that she just blurted your troubles for Aemond to hear, she slides behind you to fix the jeweled chains on your back.

“What’s wrong?” Aemond interjects in your silence.

You drop your eyes to avoid looking at him in the mirror and with your fingers trace the gold design that swirls with the wave patterns on your blue gown.

“Nothing,” you deadpan.

Aemond stays quiet for a second before you hear his footsteps approach you. “I saw bruises on your arms,” he doesn’t hold back from bringing up. “What happened?”

He will ask Vanessa, and she will tell him, so you just answer him in the most serious voice so he knows that his presence bothers you. “Daemon happened. He wanted me to leave and he was not kind about it.”

There's a second of silence before you hear a deep and frustrated sigh. You dare yourself to look up and catch Aemond’s gaze on your arm before he blinks and tries to meet your gaze, but comes up empty-handed when you look at Aerion instead.

“<Did you have a good time, my little dragon?> You speak to him in High Valyrian and watch him wave his hands excitedly.

“My grandmother says he could start eating solids when he’s 5 months old,” you direct at Vanessa, making her step away and nod with a happy smile.

“Yes, it’s possible, he’s starting to sit up alone, so he’s almost there.”

You grin at your child and caress his chin. “<Hear that? We will get you nice and plump in no time. As of now…” you trail off and take him from Aemond to walk away from the mirror. “How would you like to go with Aunt Helaena and your cousin Jaehaera, hm?>”

Aerion responds by reaching for your dangling earrings, so you lean your head away and shake your head, only getting him more intrigued.

“I’m heading to a council meeting,” Aemond says as you continue avoiding him. “I will talk to the maester to come see you later.”

“I can seek the maester myself,” you quip and scrunch your nose at Aerion to try and make him smile.

Aemond stays still and quiet before he walks away. When he reaches the door you peek over and see him stop again before he turns his head, but not completely. He just stands there for a moment with his gaze in the corner of his eye before he just walks out of the room.

“I do not know how I will do it,” you mumble to Vanessa the moment the door closes and he’s walking away. “I can not…pretend to be okay with him. I know I must try, but…I see…what my mind thinks what happened that day, and I get angry and sad.”

Vanessa walks to you to take Aerion and face you with a pitiful frown. “It will be hard, but you will not get anywhere if you do not try. Just take it step by step.”

You sigh deeply and nod softly. “I will leave now too to listen in to the meeting,” you change the subject. “I should make it back for breakfast with Helaena, I should not take long. That’s not my intention anyway.”

“Be careful,” your handmaiden warns you. “Try and remember your way back. Good luck.”

You giggle and pat her shoulder. “I will be alright. I do wish my cat was here though. He would make it easier to make my way around. If anyone asks for me just tell them I went for a stroll to catch my breath.”

Vanessa nods hesitantly and seems to want to input another warning, but she just bites her tongue and watches you walk out the secret door hidden in your quarters

At first, you admit you feel a bit turned around, all the damn tunnels are built almost identically. Plus there’s only the torch that you light as a form of light until you reach small windows, but those aren’t everywhere. Luckily though, you manage to remember where the council hall is. You do arrive a bit later than you hoped, but you got there all the same.

And it seems Ser Criston just arrived too, going off his greeting.

“Forgive my lateness,” you catch Ser Criston interject as he seems to sit down.

“Important business, no doubt,” you cringe at Aegon’s grating voice.

“You appointed new knights to the Kingsguard, Your Grace?”

Ser Criston is barely asking that? They were with the King last night.

Some commander he is.

“To replace those we lost,” Aegon remarks.

“The last one needlessly, some might say,” a man comments quietly but full of judgment. You can’t say you can place a face or a name to the voice though.

“Ser Arryk was awarded the great duty of ending Rhaenyra’s challenge,” Ser Criston argues pointlessly. “He failed to discharge it.”

At least he recognizes that error.

“He failed because the scheme was rash,” you hear the Dowager Queen interject before getting countered by the Commander of the Kingsguard.

“Perhaps, Your Grace but we cannot all hide in our castles waiting for war to come to us.”

You have to admit that it is true, but that does not excuse the stupid act they sent Ser Arryk to do. The Kingsguard protecting your mother aren’t bad at their jobs like he is.

“As now it surely will,” Alicent quips.

“As, now,” Aemond interrupts the bickering, managing to catch your breath in your throat at the mere sound of his voice. “It already has. House Bracken took it upon themselves to attack the Blackwoods who declared for the pretender. Lord Samwell Blackwood himself is slain.”

“Good,” Aegon says. “First blood in our name.”

Ugh, idiot.

“Both sides took heavy losses, Your Grace,” you recognize Ser Tyland made a point the King failed to see. “I-I’m not entirely certain we can declare this victory—”

“The Blackwoods and the Brackens had feuded for centuries. This is nothing more than an excuse for them to indulge their ancient grudge. It’s no true war.”

A sudden pound against the table shuts the speaking Lord up and makes you press yourself closer to the wall.

“Call it what you will,” Aegon follows by saying, making him the one who pounded whatever it was on the table's surface. “I call it war. And so will Dragonstone. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

What is there to do? It was a stupid squabble between feuding families. There’s no significant point behind that bloodbath.

“We send a raven to Lord Tully,” you hear the maester come up with a solution amongst the other heads around the table. “These houses are his vassals, are they not? He must control them.”

“Lord Grover Tully is a flaccid, old fool who couldn’t control his cock in a cunny,” the Lord you don’t recognize cuts in with a hint of judgment. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace.”

“Do you have any better suggestions, Lord Jasper?” Aegon asks and once and for all brings a name and face to the voice.

“Your Lord Uncle Ormund marches from Old Town at the head of a great host, Your Grace,” the Lord rebuttals. “And your brother Daeron’s dragon nears fighting age. Call on them to suppress the Riverlands.”

Yes with Caraxes and Daemon going to the Riverlands? Tessarion would get ripped to shreds, he’s no more experienced than your dragon.

“At least they are months away,” Ser Tyland interjects. “My Lord brother Jason is raising a great army at Casterly Rock. In a matter of weeks, he will be able to harass the Blackwoods from the west—”

“Should we not aim to unite these armies?” You’re surprised to hear the maester give his opinion. “And then strike as one?”

He has a point. One big army is better than small ones.

“Ah,” Ser Tyland interrupts as he laughs mockingly. “The great military mind of the Citadel. Do remind me—”

Oh gods can this get any more childish?

Here instead of questioning the ruler they bicker with each other.

“This council must rediscover the discipline it lately had if its to be of any use,” Alicent thankfully shuts them up.

“The Riverlands are the key to the war,” Ser Criston moves the meeting forward over his rattling armor. “Harrenhal is the key to the Riverlands. I will ride out with those I can muster here. Men I know, men I’ve trained.”

Your interest finally piques and you push yourself off the wall to lean your ear close to the gaps on the wall that look in the council room.

“You need time to raise the numbers to challenge the Rivermen,” Alicent makes a smart point, but Ser Criston doesn’t seem to see it that way.

“Speed is my ally. I will turn the Crownland houses who declared for Rhaenyra to our cause. We will add their numbers to our own then turn west. Where I will enlist the Brackens, subdue the Riverlands, and take Harrenhal.”

Well, that’s a mighty goal. Smart yet a bit far-fetched.

“So impatient to ride with so few men,” Alicent says. “So like to be destroyed by the first stronghold you meet. A bold scheme indeed.”

Yes, especially because Daemon is also currently going to take the Riverlands as well.

“Well, the gods favor the bold,” Ser Criston quips a stupid comment that Alicent thankfully strikes down.

“They did not favor Ser Arryk.”

Ser Criston chuckles before he turns to get the favor from a war-thirsty mongrel. “What say you, my King?”

“And you’ll take Aemond and Vhagar?” Aegon asks, making you hold your breath out of anticipation as to what the response will be.

“Vhagar will remain here,” Ser Criston immediately lets you breathe, and doesn’t let the running thoughts that were building up, rush out and make a mess in your mind—“to defend the city.”

“Good. To war then,” Aegon exclaims, making Ser Criston hum in agreement and get the approval he was seeking for from the king.

“I’ll come, too, with Sunfyre,” Aegon continues making your lips twitch.

“Aegon,” Alicent calls out in protest.

“Your Grace.”

“You’ll need a dragon,” Aegon quickly throws out, making Ser Criston argue back.

“My plan is not to draw attention.”

“And-and what will you do if you encounter one or more of Rhaenyra’s dragons?” Aegon asks and you can’t help but answer in your mind that he’ll hopefully die.

“She’ll want to answer for Ser Arryk,” Aegon adds.

“We will be more like to encounter one if we field one of our own,” Ser Criston tries to make it clear to Aegon.

“That is precisely why you must remain, brother,” Aemond says calmly which actually surprises you. You would’ve thought he would volunteer to fight with Vhagar. “It’s a brave thought, but we cannot risk your loss.”

You smile in amusement at his words obviously not laced with genuine care.

“I’m as fearsome as any of them,” Aegon argues, making you stifle your laugh during the short and awkward silence that follows.

“We must also raise the matter on…” Lord Jasper interjects hesitantly after. “The Princess’s arrival. It is ominous, to say the least, and suspicious considering how much Rhaenyra coddles her children. We must press her for what she knows. If it’s true that she has switched loyalties—”

“No,” Aemond counters, making your heart skip a beat. “You will not do such a thing. I will talk to my wife.”

“We have already discussed all the matters with the princess herself,” Alicent interjects. “Her dragon will be put in the dragonpit, and we will keep a watchful eye on her.”

No tongues rise on the matter because no one wants to face Aemond’s wrath because he, unlike Aegon, has proven himself to be fearsome.

Nevertheless, you use this as your cue to leave and return to your quarters before you can be caught, finding it a much easier venture back than when you came. You surely do relieve Vanessa of any stress she harbored as she dramatically over-worried herself that you would get yourself lost.

“We should head out now,” you don’t take a moment to catch your breath or write the first letter to your mother about what you just heard.

“Is everything all right?” Vanessa queries.

You take Aerion from her and nod. “Things are as good as they will be at the moment. I need to send a letter to my mother to let her know what Ser Criston is going to do. Hopefully, Aemond is not clinging today.”

“We can always find a way to part from him,” Vanessa looks at the bright side. “It does not seem like he will be around much with this war needing constant attention.”

You scoff as you walk out of your room. “You would be surprised,” you mutter in return.

The moment you are out of your room and head to Helaena’s new chambers, you feel a sense of nervousness knot your already nauseous stomach, and rush through your veins to the point your hands begin to tremble at the thought of facing Helaena; seeing her grief, and seeing her pair of twins be left to one child.

It was not so long ago when you would both escape to your little Island with your dragons and her children. Now those are tainted memories of what she doesn’t have anymore.

What if she thinks you betrayed her and hates you for it?

You would understand, you would obviously try and explain that it wasn’t you so she knows she’s not alone in her grief, that she has you in the same way she has had you for the past year, but ultimately you would not blame her. It was Daemon, your family, your infamous side who killed her child.

Yet no matter how much your thoughts pester you, or how much you want to turn tail and return to your quarters, you’re more daring when it comes to her. You do hesitate a moment as you stand outside of her door with Aerion in your arms, but after beating down what’s making you hesitate, you knock and let your presence know.

Silence passes for a few minutes making you think you came too late, but then a few seconds later the door is opened by one of her ladies-in-waiting, leaving a clear view of her to you, and you to her.

“Good morning,” you greet softly as you walk in, seeing her put down what she’s sewing before she slowly meets your gaze with puffy eyes, but no tears brimming within. Her grief is clearly painted but it does not seem to bring her down like you thought it would. Still, you don’t feel any less guilty or sorry.

“Good morning,” she greets in return and then finds your son in your arms. “Good morning to you Aerion.”

The baby watches her before his eyes dart to Jaehaera and he becomes instantly infatuated with the little girl, so much so that he throws himself back against you out of glee.

“Someone’s happy to see you,” you direct at Jaehaera approaching you.

“Me?” She points at her chest and then flashes a grin that grows wider when you crouch so Aerion can be at her level.

“Hello Aerion,” she tells the baby and gently grabs his hand, making the baby firmly grab onto her.

“I missed you,” she tells him and shakes his little fist, making him slowly try and bring her hand to his mouth.

“He’s strong,” she comments with a giggle before she pulls her hand away and looks at you. “Can I play with him?”

“He’s a babe,” Helaena points out to her daughter, making her sigh.

“Well,” you try to console her. “He can sit with you and he can happily watch you play while he plays with some of toys of his own. You have to wait until he’s older so he can play with you.”

Jaehaera frowns, but she doesn’t argue. “All right then.”

You flash her a smile and stand to your given height to give Aerion to one of the wetnurses, so they can take the children to a different corner of the room while you talk to Helaena before your breakfast gets here.

“I planned to have breakfast a bit unexpectedly, I hope that’s all right,” you direct at Helaena who is watching her daughter for a moment before her eyes drift back to you.

“There’s no problem,” she assures you, making you nod gently before you grab your hands and fiddle with your fingers as you carefully think of what to say.

“Helaena,” you whisper, making her hum to probe innocently.

Before you can continue you briefly glance at her sitting on a couch before you go and sit next to her, making her turn to face you as you continue to struggle with how to tell her everything you feel in the bottom of your heart.

“I…I’m sorry,” you say what you have already told so many people, yet it’s not something you will get tired of saying because you can’t help or ignore your guilt, nor does this grief end. It keeps coming and coming.

“I’m sorry for what happened to Jaehaerys,” your voice quivers, and tears, the one thing you are tired of, well in your eyes, making them sting. “I’m sorry for what happened to you.”

Helaena’s eyes fall on her hands, and her lips fall to a small frown that only tears at your wounded heart even more.

“I know it must be hard, but I cannot be here and not come tell you that I am deeply sorry,” you continue as she stays quiet, and slowly reach for her hand. You know she’s not fond of intimacy, but you don’t overstep, you just drop your hand on hers, and she doesn’t move it away at that moment. Her hands stiffen but she lets you hold her hand.

“You and your children did not deserve that, he did not deserve that. I’m sorry,” you add softly, making her trail her eyes up to meet yours.

“But it is not your fault,” she says and surprises you. “You did not do it. Why are you sorry?”

You part your lips but can’t muster a thing, instead, you drop your head and lick the salty tears that roll down your cheeks and fall on your lips.

“Because it was not fair,” you bring up what you feel. “Because…it was a cruel thing to do, and agonizing to go through. Because…I know who sent those killers to you.”

A silence follows where Helaena slips her hand over yours and carefully wraps your hand with hers, making you blink repeatedly in disbelief before you meet her gaze with that same emotion in your eyes.

“It was still not your fault,” she presses ever so sweetly. “You did not send those killers, nor did you commit the act. I do not blame you, nor do I hate you.”

Your breath catches and a smile slowly tugs on your lips as your tense body eases with the relief that washes over you.

“I’m here for you, you know that? If you need someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you. Always. I love you Helaena.”

She nods softly and offers you the sweetest smile that reminds you of the sweetest spring days. “I know,” she whispers.

You don’t expect her to say it in return, but you know her true feelings with the hand still wrapped around you.

“Why are you here though?” She suddenly blurts.

“I-I,” you pause out of confusion, but give her a clear answer. “I’m here for you.”

Helaena shakes her head and pulls her hand away. “You are not listening, why are you here? You should not have come.”

Your tears dry, and your confusion leaves no trace of the joy you were just beginning to feel

“I see it,” she presses and leans towards you. “A crown on a black veil.” She nods as if that helped you in some way. It only leaves you lost and a bit concerned.

“Okay…” you just give her the satisfaction of an answer to not leave things awkward. “Breakfast should be—”

And just as you’re going to finish, the doors open and servants with breakfast come in.

“I think Aemond missed you,” Helaena interjects while the breakfast is being placed. “And Aerion. He had his cradle moved after what happened with Jaehaerys.”

“Yes,” you mumble. “So I saw.”

Helaena gets off her seat and you mirror her to follow her to the round table, finding that breakfast looks unappetizing. The food looks good, but the nauseousness you feel is still lingering within you.

“Helaena I was thinking perhaps you could accompany me to select my new sworn protector,” you fill the silence as you take a seat. “I think getting out of your room and taking some air would be nice. Besides, I think a nice stroll in the gardens afterward would be nice, the weather is agreeable.”

Helaena sits beside you rather than in any other empty seat and looks at you before she queries. “What of the new Kingsguard that Aegon appointed? Why don’t you pick one of them?”

You meet her gaze and giggle before you look at the tea you requested getting placed in front of you. “No,” you put it simply. “One, that would be pretty foolish and Aemond would never allow that.”

She hums and the corner of her lips twitches. “I’m sure if Aemond could, he would be stuck to you like a shadow.”

You laugh softly and nod. “He tries.”

“I hope you and him reconcile,” she says. “It’s nice seeing him laugh with you.”

You swallow thickly and answer honestly. “I think it will be hard forgiving him for what he did.”

She hums and says one last thing. “Just do not wait too long, okay?”

Your heart skips a beat and your eyebrows furrow but you offer her a soft smile and nod. “Okay.”

She holds your gaze a second longer before she reaches over to serve herself some food. You try and do the same, but your stomach stops you from really desiring anything.

Helaena notices your reluctance and interjects as she leans toward you. “You should eat, it’s not good for the babes if you do not.”

Your eyes widen and slowly meet her gaze expressing only utter disbelief. “What?” You deadpan.

All Helaena does is offer you a simple smile before she starts eating, leaving you overcome with confusion, even if deep down what she said starts to make sense; Your over-exhaustion, your stomachaches, and headaches.

And it would track, Aemond and you did have sex before you left for Dragonstone, but…Cregan and you…

No…that’s a possibility you do not want to think about, and he’s always careful, and you…did not take Moontea this time, but it can’t be true, him being related is especially not true.

IF what Helaena said was true the babes are Aemond’s. And that’s even if Helaena is telling the truth, sometimes she has the tendency to say things that don’t make sense. Just like this, it's all just a jumble of words.

You will choose to believe that until you talk to someone who can actually prove it. Until then you pay all your focus on your breakfast with Helaena and keep yourself even more busy with choosing your sworn protector already discreetly picked by Daemon of all people.

You did not think he would care that much as to pay someone to keep you and your son safe, but here you are now standing on a balcony over a courtyard, hearing metal sing over the chaos playing all about the castle as men prepare to go to war with Ser Criston.

Usually, men just line up, and someone shares their achievements and a summary of how they became so high ranked and so on, but that all sounded so boring and you have lacked fun so you chose for a not-so-commonly picked choice and had them just demonstrate their skill.

“Perhaps there’s no need for such a show of violence,” Helaena gives her opinion as she stays back in her seat. “Go with the man Aemond wants you to pick.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “No,” you deadpan and cross your arms over the railing to lean your head over and watch as a man with short black curly hair suddenly pulls his cloak off to hurl it at his opponent and blind him.

You grin at his quick thinking and watch this tall, well-built man kick his opponent back while he’s blinded and trying to take the cloak off his face, resulting in the cloak to slip off but a few seconds too late because the intriguing man pulls out a dagger and thrust forward.

Albeit the opponent blocks his attempts with his arm, making you unfold your arms to press your hands on the cold stone and push yourself forward out of excitement.

The man proceeds to use his arm to dismantle his opponent's block by shoving his arm away, before he quickly grabs his arm and spins around him to be able to wrap his other arm around his opponent's neck, and point the tip of his dagger at an artery; with that finishing the last match, and making you beam and clap.

“Well fought!” You exclaim, causing the man to let go of his opponent so they can both face you and bow their heads. “What’s your name Ser?”

The man you called on lifts his head and you meet the most mesmerizing blue eyes that remind you of the bluest sea water.

“Ser Jason Waters, Princess,” he announces, making your grin twitch as you realize that this tall man below is the man Daemon hired for you.

“A bastard from King’s Landing,” the commander beside you whispers in your ear as if that affects his quick thinking or his battle experience—“Go with Ser Aldous from the Crownlands. That’s the man your Lord husband thought capable. He has battle experience, and he is well-honed.”

You scoff and give him the same attitude you just gave Helaena. “I do not care what my Lord Husband wants, and bastard or not that does not affect Ser Jason’s skill. Tell me his triumphs.”

The man hesitates but responds with what you asked for. “He fought at the Stepstones when he was ten-and-six with Prince Daemon until the war ended.”

You look over to flash the man a smile as you hit your palms on the stone. “See, he has battle experience too.” You look back at the man and focus your eyes on the scar that travels from the right corner of his forehead and all across his face to end on the left corner of his jaw.

“Tell me, Ser Jason, how did you get your scar?” You probe with genuine curiosity. “My grandfather Lord Corlys says a scar is always a story. What is your story?”

Ser Jason huffs lightly and glances down with a small smile that carves adorable and deep dimples on his cheeks.

“I,” he clears his throat and bats his lashes before he faces you. “I fought a Dothraki Screamer after I departed from the Stepstones.”

Your eyes widen and you quickly poke him for more with a bit too much excitement. “A Dothraki Screamer? Really?!”

He nods. “He almost took my face but I ended up winning,” he boasts with a shy smile. “Not that I am saying it was easy. It was…it was difficult.”

Your smile widens at his stumble of words before you look at the Commander. “Has Ser Aldous fought a Dothraki screamer and won?”

The commander sighs and argues. “But Prince Aemond—”

“I will make sure Prince Aemond does not take his anger out on you. I made this choice, I am capable of choosing a worthy protector for me and my child,” you interject to assure him, but then Helaena breaks her silence by calling your name before giving her opinion.

“Maybe you should listen to Aemond. I do not think Ser Jason is a wise choice.”

Her eyes snap to the man she can see through the gaps of the railing, and draws in a deep short breath before meeting your gaze and breathing out.

“You worry,” you tell her. “Just like, my Aemond. It’s okay.”

Helaena holds your gaze for a second longer with a very hard and pressuring look before she drops her head and nods stiffly.

“Let me just close this matter up and we can go for our stroll,” you assure her and return your attention to Ser Jason. “I will see you on the Morrow for your first day, Ser Jason. Thank you. And thank you to the rest of you, do not worry I am sure your skill will still be needed, I will make sure to recommend you to good positions.”

The other knights bow their heads to express their gratitude, but you focus on the man in the middle and understand now why Daemon chose him of all people to protect you and Aerion while you’re here in the jaws of the enemy. He’s well-traveled and has been holding a sword since he was a boy.

You have to give Daemon his flowers for this one thing.

“Thank you, Princess,” Ser Jason speaks up with his head raised and a crooked smile on his lips. “You bring me a great honor. I will protect you and yours with my life. I will not let you down. I will guard you even from the shadows that lurk in the night, and the cowards who call themselves men.”

You offer him a faint appreciative smile and as his crooked smile falls to a soft and gentle one, his blue eyes seem to deepen more, bringing this innocent look on his face that slowly pulls your smile down as you’re reminded of your sweet brother, Lucerys.

He would have been Lord if he had lived to be older. He could have had many different dangerous experiences like this man, he could have grown as sweet looking as this man, and held great achievements like this man, but he can’t. He was taken before he could really live a life of his own. Now you’re left just looking at this man below and getting reminded of what can’t flourish because Aemond made sure to kill it.

“Thank you, Ser Jason,” you offer the man softer than before and give him one last smile before you turn to try and leave. However, before you can you catch this certain familiar gleam in his eyes that steals your attention for a lingering second before you rip your eyes away and finally give Helaena all your attention.

“Now my Sweet aunt,” you probe as you hold your hands before you. “Why do you doubt Ser Jason?”

Helaena glances at you with a bit of surprise because you’re asking her for her thoughts that others would have disregarded.

“I just,” she says and turns her head away as she holds her hands. “I have a bad feeling about him.”

You take in what she says and quickly try to reassure her. “It’s normal to doubt people now more than ever, we are at war and tragedy has befallen everyone, but we cannot live our lives paranoid. But I will tell you what, I will be cautious, okay?”

Helaena nods softly and you add a remark. “Plus, the knight Aemond picked was old don’t you think?”

Helaena giggles and nods. “He was.”

“I’m sure it was done on purpose,” you comment on your husband's jealousy.

“You think?” Helaena asks, making you nod with a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“I know so. Now,” you change the subject to something she likes. “Tell me what have you caught as of late?”

Helaena’s shoulders release from their tense hold and her eyes glimmer for the first time. “I caught fireflies the other day by the pond, but I think they’re too beautiful to keep, so I let them go.”

You hum and feed her interests. “They are quite fascinating, they’re like little stars.”

She hums and carefully holds some of your fingers, making your heart happily skip a beat. “Did you know that they flash their lights for different stuff? Like when they’re trying to attract a mate, or deceiving others,” she muses. “And many people mistake them for flies or bugs, but they are beetles in truth.”

You hum. “I did not know that,” you share.

“Well, now you do.”

You giggle and nod. “Yes, I do. Now I think if I could be any insect I think I would be an orchid mantis. They are very beautiful.”

Helaena laughs softly and lolls her head towards you. “You’re funny.” She says, making you smirk.

You end up taking the long way to the gardens and find yourselves walking through the training yard that is flooded with men all preparing to go off to war, but halting the moment they all spot Queen Helaena walking by. All except for one man in bulky silver and green armor; he walks away from his horse with a half-smug smile on his face. And it's only when you get closer that you start to predict who he might be just going off the flaming tower on his chest plate.

“My Queen,” he finally pays his respects and bows his head. “And…” he leaves room for you to introduce yourself, and you do, making his eyes brighten and the smile turn more smug.

“Ah, the Realms Golden Girl, how nice it is to meet you at long last,” he rolls out of his tongue with a sense of cheekiness, but not filled with deceit, more so like he’s trying to seduce you.

But, as charming as he does speak, he can’t reel you in. You smile, but you also glance at Helaena in confusion, yet she doesn’t seem to understand you asking for help, so the man before you bows his head at you before he finally introduces himself; “I am Ser Gwayne Hightower.”

Ah, Alicent’s brother.

“It is an honor to meet you. I have heard a great deal about you,” you just say out of respect but you could care less even if he is a bit handsome for a Hightower.

“Hm,” he hums with a growing smirk. “In all my comings and goings never have I met such an enchanting beauty,” he flatters you and you can’t help but show off a shy smile—“my nephew is a lucky man.”

You scoff softly and he leans closer. “I am going off to battle with the Lord's Hand…”

You scoff at the title given to such an unqualified man and he seems to catch your drift and matches your mocking smile before he continues.

“I would fight more fiercely if you granted me your hand,” he speaks smoothly, but you still don’t fall prey to his attempts. Albeit you do give him your hand and watch him gently bring your hand up to his lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Once he lets go of you his smug smirk deepens.

“I wish you well in your travels, Ser, I hope to see you again,” you offer him even if deep down you do not mean it at all and you pray and hope for his and all their downfalls. “Now if you will excuse me, the Queen and I have to go.”

“Of course.” He bows his head at you before drifting his attention to Helaena one more time. “My Queen.”

She offers him a faint smile before she pulls you away with her to finally get away from the clustered place and walk through quieter spaces until you both find joy and peace in the castle gardens.

Winter is coming, like the Stark’s like to say, but the garden does not lack life. It’s a lively contrast to the chaos ascending everywhere, and a peaceful escape where you can admire the vibrant autumn flowers that show their beauty off like stars at night. The trees are bare with the leaves rusting and breaking away, but the vibrant leaf colors that litter the ground steal the attention from its emptiness. The only thing that does make the garden feel lackluster is the lack of roses. They don’t bloom like they do Winterfell.

“Look,” Helaena calls for your attention and makes you tear your gaze away from the calm sea in the distance. “An orchid.” She shows off the beautiful light pink flower before she drops it on your lap. “Now you’re one step closer to becoming an orchid mantis.”

You burst out laughing and she giggles with you.

“You know,” you add after you catch your breath. “I have this gown I have been meaning to wear. It has blue winter roses embroidered on the corset and on the borderlines of the skirt. It is very beautiful. We should have a gown designed for you of your favorite flower so we could show off together.”

Helaena hums and nods. “I would like that.”

“Good.” You say with a smile and stand back up to continue down the gardens, coming to find Lord Larys Strong wandering around the pond.

“Your Grace. Princess,” he greets and bows his head.

You offer him a faint smile in return and steal a glance around before addressing him. “Enjoying the kind weather?”

He hums. “Making the best of it before winter comes.”

“All we will get is light snows and bitter winds this far South,” you bring up and walk closer to him with Helaena falling behind. “We will live.”

“I suppose winters here don’t compare to those in the North,” he says, and you shake your head lightly before peering back to watch Helaena slowly make her way to you.

“I would just like to say that it is odd seeing you and Prince Aemond be so estranged,” he says and slowly drifts back to him. “Not long ago you were almost inseparable.”

You avert your gaze and purse your lips together before you mutter your comment. “Well, sadly there are matters that create a strain.”

“I am sorry to hear about your brother's passing, it was such a tragic affair.”

Your eyes snap up and rather than expressing gratitude, you hardened your gaze to pass him a warning glare so he can tread carefully.

“Marriage is a complicated thing, more so with a war that tears your gaze between two sides, and secrets that lurk beneath the surface,” he doesn’t listen, he’s bold, so you lift your chin and make your glare more menacing.

Lord Larys catches the threat behind your glare and checks that Helaena is distracted by what’s in the pond before he quietly brings a point to this babble.

“I just hope Prince Aemond’s frequent brothel visits are not the secret truly keeping you apart.”

Your heart drops and every attempt to be seen as menacing falls flat. Instead, anguish begins to surface, it takes your attention and leaves you lost in thought for the rest of the day.

And you know you have no reason to be upset after you lay with Cregan. You shouldn’t care because you hate Aemond after he killed Lucerys, but knowing he went to see other women, imagining him kissing another woman, and picturing him looking at them the same way he looks at you; like there’s only you and no one else, like you’re all that’s beautiful in the world, crushes your heart.

You don’t want him touching anyone else with the same gentle touch he blesses you with. You don’t want someone else tasting the sweetness of his lips, or seeing how completely vulnerable and loving he can be. You don’t like that someone else is seeing parts of him that are only meant for you. You don’t want him to admire someone the way he admires you.

You want to be the only one he finds beautiful, you want him to only love you, just like it always has been. You don’t want to share him.

Yet you also can’t be so selfish. You know what you did, and the bad thing is you don’t regret it. You shouldn’t expect loyalty when you broke it first. You can’t be seething in jealousy when you were the one who kissed another man and became intimate with him. That’s selfish too, and you can’t be selfish.

But oh!

You can’t stop tormenting yourself with images of Aemond kissing other women, and other women kissing him. You see it in the books you try to read to keep yourself distracted and hear the sounds of his pleasure in the crackle of the fires that gives light to your chambers and also keeps it warm. You’re tormented by the ugliness that is jealousy, and also getting torn apart between not deserving to be jealous. And him coming into the room does not make it easier because now you’re also plagued by memories of what he did.

You’ll probably find yourself broken down soon enough.

“Where’s Aerion?” Aemond asks first as he takes some weight off him by putting his sword aside.

“With your mother,” you deadpan and flip mindlessly through a different book. “She wanted to spend time with him and Jaehaera.”

Aemond hums and he then approaches you to lean over the couch and try and give you a peck on the cheek, but you lean away, leaving his lips to meet a cold emptiness.

He proceeds to linger the way you left him before he purses his lips and steps away with a deep sigh.

“I see you are still playing at that game,” he says boldly and pulls your attention away from the book to lift your head and focus on nothing in particular as you run over what just came out of his mouth.

When you know you heard him right a crease carves in between your eyebrows as they pinch together, your eyes narrow and almost seem to emit flames with the rage that makes you forget the purpose you really came. That’s all meaningless now as you shut the book and throw it on the couch before you get up and spin around to snap back. “Game? Is this some jest to you, Aemond?”

Said man slips his eyepatch off and throws it on the table, choosing not to feed the dragon he already stirred awake.

“Tell me? Was killing my brother some game to you?” You don’t hold back and march around the couch to get closer, but he keeps getting away as he works to take his leather vest off.

“Is my grief, my guilt, some game to you? You know I-I couldn’t even face my mother, or-or Rhaena, because of what you did? I blamed myself!” You throw at his back which moves further and further away. “Is that funny? Do you think I can just forget and pretend everything is alright? Like-like you did not break my heart in the worst way possible?!”

Aemond finally stops walking away, but he doesn’t turn around or speak, and that only triggers your anger to get more heated.

“Aemond?” You call out so you can get something, a hum if that’s what he wants to give, whatever, you just want a response to let you know he’s paying attention.

“Tell me. Is all I am, is all I feel is some game to you?”

His head slowly lowers, and angry tears form in your eyes while you start to believe what you’re accusing him of in his lingering silence.

“Tell me…because if I am…” you trail off and don’t finish because you fear accepting that it will be true. “Aemond,” you call out again in a broken voice and with a burning glare that falters while you storm over to him and stop halfway. “Aemond,” you whisper before your nose furls and you cry out desperately and with frustration laced within. “Aemond!”

Said man slowly turns on his heels with his eye glossy and downcast, his lips out in a pout, and his eyebrows formed in a shaky furrow.

“No,” is what he says under his breath but doesn’t dare look you in the eyes, he’s like a wounded boy filled with fear. Not of what lurks in the shadows, or of some great fear; he’s afraid of what will come out of the scolding, afraid that he will be received with disappointment and a cold shoulder.

“No what?” You press to know and step closer. “No I’m not some joke to you, or no you did not mean to betray me in that way?”

“Bloodshed was inevitable, if not me, it would’ve been someone else,” he brings out his first excuse.

“Okay,” you whisper and nod in understanding while you turn away and hold your hands as you take in what he said. “Okay.”

“You are not a joke,” he responds to your other question as he finally breaks away from the spot he was stuck to. “My intention was not to hurt you. You know that. You of all people in this fucking world is all that matters to me. Ever since I was young and got pushed around for being different. You,” he makes that word clear with a sense of a deep meaning, no deceit, devotion and passion. “I did not want to hurt you. I did not mean what I did…” he trails off in a whisper that wouldn’t have been audible if the room wasn’t cast in silence.

Yet does that really mean anything now that he did it? He can’t take back what he did, he can’t bring back Lucerys because he did not mean it. It still hurts and he can’t take that pain away with those words.

“All those times,” your voice quivers as your heart speaks for you. “…I spent missing you, wanting to come back home to you, and for what?” You say to the tension in the room and hear his lips part before his steps hit the ground louder and louder as he makes his way before you.

When you’re face to face, heart facing the others heart, his long and slender fingers reach for your face, but because of the violence done to you in the past days you pull your head back, making his hands freeze and tense for a second before he tries again and this time makes contact with your warm cheeks, providing more warmth that you can’t help but melt into.

You do hesitate looking into his eye because you know what you will see will only make your heart sing, but he demands your attention and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. At that moment letting you see the sweet man you have always loved, a soft and enamored man who shows his tender affection in his eye that gleams like the full moon itself.

“I sent you letters,” he brings up softly and glances at your lips as his breath catches.

You part your lips and feel a desire slowly take hold of you, but you are not done, he can’t just shut you up with sweet words, so you quickly rebuttal with an icy quip. “Full of empty words.”

You resisted what you otherwise would have fallen trap to and reel away from Aemond to face him with a serious look that falters between anguish.

“But what could I expect? You only wrote for 1 year when I was in Winterfell…”

“That again,” he mutters and drops his hands on his thighs as he shakes his head.

You scoff and nod angrily. “Yes, this again! Because I waited, you were my best friend! And I was alone! All I wanted was reassurance from you, and you left me alone…and now all I wanted was you to tell me what you feel, I would have loved the truth, but,” you pause and feign a laugh. “You led me on like you did nothing. Like you were doing nothing when in reality you killed my brother and lay with whores,” you spat out. You did not mean to. You wanted to hold it just for the sake of not sounding bitchy and hypocritical, but it hurts not knowing why HE did what he did.

Was he looking for just one little excuse to be with someone else? Have you not been enough? Were you not giving him enough attention? Enough love? Are you not beautiful enough for him?

It’s true you talked to Cregan in your year here, but only as friends before and after you married Aemond. You missed him but only when you felt alone here, but after Aemond made you feel loved, Cregan was a sweet memory of a first love. And now? You were hurt, you wanted to feel loved after getting your heart torn from your chest. You do not regret because that will tear you apart, and you do not want to deny what you did. You did it; you take responsibility for it, you won’t regret it especially because you felt happy in a dark tormenting storm…

But Aemond?

“Who told you?” He demands to know and at that moment proves Lord Larys’ accusation right.

“It does not matter who told me,” you sneer through gritted teeth. “You did it…You do it.”

Aemond drops his eye and his lips curl to a snarl before he answers firmly. “Not since you returned.”

You shouldn’t but you feel like someone is just crushing your heart.

“No…then what about last night? When you left.” You press for more even if the little voice in your head is telling you to stop fishing for more.

“You did not want to see me, remember?” He sasses you. “Was I supposed to stay here just to have you glaring at me?”

You snap your eyes to him and narrow your glare, making him avert his gaze and answer quieter.

“I was with Ser Criston for a time before I took care of those men that shot at your dragon while our son was strapped on your chest.”

The corner of your lips twitch, but that does nothing to win you over.

“And the other times,” he continues and takes a step forward to close the gap left between you by grabbing your face and forcing you to meet his gaze. “Meant nothing. It was nothing but comfort while I was tormented. I did not touch her the way I touch you, I did not kiss her in any way, my heart, my lips are yours. I am yours. It meant nothing,” he makes clear by pouring out his heart, and bringing tears to your eyes.

Yet your tears aren’t out of relief that he gifted you the confession that his heart only yearns for you. You start to cry out of guilt and…regret.

You did not want to feel regret. It was a cemented knowledge, but you are the bad person here. You are horrible for becoming one flesh with another man, for feeling love and appreciation for someone else who is not your husband. Perhaps what Aemond did was bad too, his affair was emotional, but that night your heart belonged to Cregan, and now…if what Helaena said was true then your sin might come to life.

How could you be so horrible?

Why did you have to dig for the truth? It would have been better if you just simmered in your jealousy, but now?

Gods.

You turn your head away to not face him, but he just moves his head in search of your teary eyes. And when he finds your gaze he wipes the tears off your cheeks and parts his lips. Yet nothing comes out but a punctured breath as his eye grows tender and bright like the stars and the moon that reign the sky, but infinitely more beautiful, and just for you to admire and cherish.

Profound enamourment also fills his eye and only works to make his confession of love louder without any need for words.

If only you could give it all in return. You can’t share that intense love because resentment and hatred are still very much alive in your heart. Besides, now guilt for what you did takes a space within you, only further pushing that affection.

“Come with me,” he beckons, much to your surprise.

“Where?” You ask.

“Out,” he only surprises you more. “In the city.”

You scoff. Is he being serious? Or is this some jest? He says the city at night is for delinquents to rage, you always have to force him out with you to do something fun.

“We shouldn’t, I—”

“Now it’s you who’s protesting,” he cuts you off with the corner of his lips perked. “Just come with me for the night. Please.”

You lower your face and remark. “You do not like going into the city. I always have to beg you to come out at night. Then again you have been out, so.” you remark bitterly.

Aemond slides his hands down to hold your shoulders and even if he is annoyed at your remark he insists. “I…just want to show you some fun,” he uses your own persuading words against you purposely.

“Aemond,” you protest and he grabs your face again to pull you towards him, making your eyes flicker to his lips just a hairsbreadth away, calling for your warmth and taste to reunite and mold back together like a missing puzzle piece.

“Please,” he insists softly and pulls away to offer you his hand.

You glance at his hand offering you an attempt at a rekindle and then look back at his eye and the sapphire glimmering against the candlelight, and it's almost like it's giving a hopeful glow in the same way his eye, his lips, and eyebrows express the hope that you will accept.

A part of you says no, you will worsen your guilt, and it won’t be fun if you’re bitter and hold resentment with each word, but also another part of you is too curious and intrigued by the fact that he's the one offering you a night out first and not the other way around.

Both sides fight a short bloody fight, with one choice coming out triumphant. But deep down was it so hard to choose?

As if attracted to a dark calling of temptation you give him your hand.

.

.

.

.

A/N- No don’t take us out into the city Aemond, you’re so sexy and smitten aha 🫣

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @callsignwidow @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104

[damn-stark]

Moonlight

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

Summary- Y/N Velaryon Targaryen, eldest and only child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, the golden girl. Destined for greatness except the throne, no, that goes to Jacaerys, Driftmark goes to Lucerys, what is that you get? A promise for a good match? The promise to be taken somewhere far away from your family? Again. Albeit being forced to Winterfell the first time didn’t turn out to be a mistake, you got to be close to Cregan Stark, some would say you’re more than friends, but such a relationship is forbidden. Now that you’ve returned home after years though, what do you have? More desire for what can’t be yours? Or a man who promises you the world?

Vanessa Blomstrand (handmaiden), Ser Jason Waters, Ser Cane Clegane, other characters,

Astraea concept, Shrykos concept, armor concept, wardrobe concept

Season 1

Chapter 1 Golden girl

Chapter 2 Stars and scars

Chapter 3 Learn to join the dance

Chapter 4 Snow on the beach

Chapter 5 Journey to the future

Chapter 6 City of stars

Chapter 7 Aerion

Chapter 8 Chateau

Season 2

Chapter 9 Pure as The Driven Snow

Chapter 10 Heart of Ice

Chapter 11 A dot Targ. A dot Vel.

Chapter 12 The Siren’s trick

Chapter 13 Me and My husband

Chapter 14 Autumn sadness

Chapter 15 I was born something

Chapter 16 And wisdom choke you

Chapter 17 And now we are one

Fire & Blood

Chapter 18 A little high, a little low

Chapter 19 My tears are blood

Chapter 20 The Witch, The Siren, and The Prince

Chapter 21 Icarus

Chapter 22 Hanging Tree Medley

Chapter 23 Mother I’m tired

Chapter 24 Lambs to the slaughter

Chapter 25 Loss of my Life

Chapter 26 In that treetop night

Chapter 27 The field of stars

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader aesthetic board, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

[damn-stark]

Chapter 7 Aerion

Chapter 7 of Moonlight

A/N- What side will mc end up siding on?

Warning- Swearing, angst, FLUFF, talks of blood & death and of SA, LONG CHAPTER.

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

Episode- half of 1x08

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*129 AC*

“Cousin, I write to you to warn you of Uncle Vaemond, who at this moment sails for King’s Landing with the plan to appeal to his Grace the King on matters of succession, rights, and the sanctity of blood. He wishes for the Driftwood Throne to pass to him, he said that it is his by rights and that he is the only unattainted choice.

Don’t concern yourself though. I've warned my father and your mother. They should argue against his foolishness and set matters straight. Until then, our grandmother and I will see you shortly.

Your cousin, Baela."

Tsk, of course, your Uncle Vaemond is protesting, he doesn’t even have the decency to wait for more news on your grandfather Corlys’s recent injuries after his fall in the step stones. Not even because that’s his own blood.

Then again that’s not as significant as the matter of who will actually stand judgment to Ser Vaemond’s stupid petition, the Hightowers. With their hatred for your mother and family, they’ll try and turn their favor with Ser Vaemond. Or discredit your mother in some way. You know it.

“What does your cousin say?” Aemond pulls you from the depths of your running thoughts, causing you to drop your hand that holds the scroll and sigh while you look down at the little baby boy squirming in your arms as he watches Wolf rubbing against your legs.

“Oh, just that Ser Vaemond is on his way to appeal for his right to the Driftwood Throne,” you share, drifting all of Aemond’s attention from the book he was reading to you caressing the tiny silver-white curls on your baby's head before you press a gentle kiss on his head.

“It seems that your grandmother will come to us instead, Aerion,” you direct at your baby as if he cares or truly grasps what you mean. “Are you so excited to meet her and your uncles?”

Aerion looks away from the grey cat, and his father's blue eyes stare into your very soul as if trying to read what you mean before he shows off his gums with a wide smile and then follows by flinging himself against you.

“Oh,” you laugh softly and can’t help but smile through your concern. “You are so excited to meet her, aren't you? I’m excited to see her too.”

You press another kiss on your baby’s head before you turn and watch Aemond standing from his chair in front of the dancing flames to make his way to you.

“Perhaps you should back your own claim,” he suggests seriously. “You are Ser Laenor’s daughter, and the first grandchild to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys.”

You watch him stop and crouch down before Aerion and you first and then laugh dryly at his very serious suggestion. “Do you want me to be laughed at by my uncle and the entire court?” You scoff and shake your head while you grab a buckle on his coat to fiddle with it as you reiterate an argument you've already had multiple times. “I won’t even try.”

Aerion smiles at his father and leans his little body forward to try and grab his father's attention.

Aemond notices and musters a tiny smile before he takes him from your arms.

“I’m afraid my Velaryon family isn’t as accommodating as our Targaryen family was. They’d rather see that wooden throne sink into the depths of the ocean before letting a woman sit on it. My grandmother only sits on it because my grandfather is alive.” You add.

Aemond glances down at Aerion as the baby begins to put Aemond’s hair in his mouth. “What of Aerion?” Aemond suggests and meets your gaze as he gently pulls his hair out of the child’s mouth. “He is our son, your son, he has Velaryon blood.”

You shoot Aemond a pointed look before you make him follow your figure with his eye as you walk past him to approach the couch and swipe a chewing toy off the surface. “No, Aerion is 4 months old I won’t use him to steal my brother's birthright.” You clarify without fear whilst you return to Aemond to give the baby his toy so he can chew on that instead.

“What is this about?” You press him to investigate this need for more. “Are you so eager for power that you’d use your infant son as a piece in this never-ending game? I'm sorry I don’t come with a throne, and Aerion doesn’t inherit fleets and an Island, Aemond—”

“It’s not like that,” Aemond cuts you off and snatches your hand from your side as you try to walk away. “I’m fighting for you. For our son!” He argues with a softness in his voice, but also a hint of fury that you take as him being protective.

“I fight for the benefit of the both of you,” he continues in a softer tone while he brings your hand close to his lips to press a kiss on your knuckles before he continues to give you comfort by cupping your cheek.

“If there’s a chance for something greater for the both of you I will take it. What man would I be if I don't try?”

Well, when he puts it that way…it’s sweet. But he’s still annoying for suggesting you take what belongs to your brother.

“I appreciate it,” you tell Aemond as you use your other hand to grab his shoulder before slowly sliding it up to hold his jaw. “I admire your will, but I’m okay. We're okay. I’m content with what I have; our beautiful son, Astraea, and I have you. I don’t desire anything else.”

You offer him a smile and lean in closer. “Besides, we will rule Dragonstone. It would be difficult ruling Driftmark as well.” You giggle. “We are enough. I mean we are basically gods.” You smirk, and he starts to mirror your gesture.

“I’m okay,” you reaffirm and steal a kiss from his lips. “Now let’s talk about other matters.” You drift the conversation away and glance at Aerion, busy chewing his toy.

“What did the maester say?” Aemond actually listens to you, making you bring your gaze back to him—“Are you?” He asks.

You sigh deeply and shake your head. “No,” you mutter with disappointment. “I’m just late. I started bleeding this morning…I was so sure though.”

Aemond slides his hand to the back of your head and presses you against him to press a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s all right. We have Aerion. We are in no rush. Don’t strain yourself, my love.”

You clutch onto his chest and lift your head. “You’re not upset?” You query seriously with a worry that comes from the bottom of your heart and instantly conflicts Aemond.

Considering neither of you are the heir of anything all that valuable the pressure to have children is not one he feels or one he presses on you, so he doesn’t understand this concern that pains you and brings tears to your pretty eyes.

“Of course not.” He argues softly. “Why should I be? I don’t want you just to have children. I want you for what you are, I always have.”

You sigh with relief and slowly smile at him in awe before you smack your lips against his and pull him in for a steamy kiss that is cut short because of the child he’s holding and is really attentive of him and you.

When you do pull back he does keep you close to murmur against your lips though. “Come with me and Aerion somewhere.”

Your curiosity doesn’t fail to pique or gleam brightly in your eyes. “Where?” You ask giddly.

Aemond pulls back and gives your curiosity satisfaction while also fueling it even more. “We’re going for a flight. Aerion’s first flight.”

Without as much as hesitating you secure your hand around Aemond’s and follow him outside, Afterall, you don’t fear for your child’s life whilst on a dragon, the only reason you haven’t flown with him before is because you did want to wait until he was older, but you know that neither Vhagar nor Astraea would ever let anything bad happen to Aerion. The one thing you do worry about is if Aerion will like the feeling of the wind brushing against his face. He won’t know he’s flying several feet above ground, but he might feel a discomfort when the dragon takes flight, so you do hope he enjoys this venture. He might fly on his own dragon when he’s older after all.

“He might even fall asleep,” you try to stay positive while you secure Aerion on his chest after you make it out to where the dragons are. When you finish you grab Aerion’s chin and smile.

“There, all snuggled up.” You assure your baby. “Your father will take good care of you.” You step back to try to head to Astraea, but Aemond stops you.

“Don’t. Ride with me.”

Your eyebrows slowly furrow and you glance at Vhagar. “Are you sure?” You probe. “I can ride Astraea and follow beside you.”

Aemond shakes his head. “No, I'm sure, Aerion will want you there. I want you with me.”

Your heart flutters and your smile widens. “Okay,” you give in and skip forward to rush back to his side. And since he’s carrying special cargo, and Vhagar is his dragon, you let him climb first before you follow, which proves to be difficult to do, Vhagar is huge compared to Astraea. You can’t help but be out of breath when you’re on the saddle.

“I still don’t understand how you do that,” you comment breathlessly and look down at the ground, feeling your heart skip a beat out of fear of the height since you won’t be the one strapped in. “I’m grateful Astraea is still small—maybe you should have tried to bond to Vermithor.”

Aemond picks up the ropes he has as handles and peers back with a smirk. “You remember?” He asks.

You wrap your hands around his neck and nod. “I do. Which by the way I was right,” you show off. “Size doesn’t equal speed. I have won against you every single time.”

“Because I let you,” Aemond counters smugly.

You roll your eyes and scoff. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Vhagar then begins to walk ahead, creating thunderous footsteps that echo like an angry thunderstorm. You glance at Aerion to see if he’s bothered by the new noise, but he doesn’t react.

“Perhaps Vermithor will be Aerion’s dragon,” Aemond points out smugly since Aerion’s dragon egg has failed to hatch.

“Or Seasmoke,” you add and smile to yourself as Vhagar flaps her wings and ascends to a sky that never fails to remind you of your father. “…My father's dragon.”

As Vhagar flies higher in the sky you tighten your hold around Aemond, but not out of worry, you embrace him and lay your head on his shoulder as you feel a rush of bliss. You watch the thick white clouds start to surround you and feel the sun's warm rays bask your face, filling you with comforting warmth. Aemond’s body blocks out the chilly breeze for you, but as you fly through fields of clouds you feel the cold water droplets dampen your exposed skin.

Not so long ago you felt restless. You longed so badly to be with your mother, or to return to Winterfell and Cregan—you still wish to see him, to hear his voice, you miss him even if you shouldn’t, and those forbidden letters aren’t enough to fill your appetite for more, but…you are truly happy now with Aerion and Aemond.

What was once a place that made you feel out of place, now is a home because of the two men in your life. If things could be like this forever, you’d be okay with it. You don’t want more. Not anymore.

“Maybe we can fly forever,” you mumble in Aemond’s ear. “Get lost in the sky.”

Aemond hums. “I'm sure Aerion won’t mind.” He says back sweetly.

You lean your chin over his shoulder and can’t help but fill with joy at the sight of Aerion grinning and reaching out for the clouds he can’t actually grab.

“<He has dragon's blood,” You say in High Valyrian. “This is his destiny.>”

“<You’ll get one soon enough, my little dragon,” Aemond assures Aerion. “You’ll get the fiercest, just like I did.>”

Yes, you’re more content with this life that you have now.

——

*LATER*

Six years, it’s been six years since you’ve seen your family. Yes, you haven’t stopped communicating with them throughout the time you have been in Winterfell and Kings Landing, but it’s not the same. No amount of letters fills the void created the day you were forced to leave your family behind.

Yet finally after six years, you’re reuniting with them again as a grown woman of 18. You’re not that little girl anymore. No, that girl died when your father did….

Hopefully, you can make them proud of the woman you’ve become.

“Grandmother,” you call out breathlessly the moment you see her heading to the stairs that lead to the chambers.

Your grandmother stops in her tracks and slowly turns to face the person who had called out to her, finding you past the doors with a wobbly smile on your lips.

And no amount of time apart could make her forget you, she instantly recognizes you, and your name softly comes out of her lips as if completely captured by your presence.

You beam at her and rush away from Aemond’s side to meet her halfway after she climbs down the first step. When you reach each other she first cups your jaw to study the new person before her.

“I saw Meleys when Aemond and I were flying back home,” you tell her as you admire her too, noticing that she hasn’t aged a bit. She looks just the same as she did when you last saw her—“I rushed here as fast as I could.”

“Look at you,” she whispers with a growing smile. “You’ve grown even more beautiful. Your father would be happy.” She lowers her gaze to your chest, and when you follow her line of gaze you see her looking at the pendant she had gifted you six years ago. “I’m so very happy to see you.”

“And I you,” you redirect softly, “I’ve missed you.” You sigh deeply and frown now. “How’s grandfather? I heard he was taken to Driftmark.”

Your grandmother meets your gaze and exhales softly. “He’s home, fighting to this moment. The maesters are helping but it’s up to him now.”

You swallow thickly and assure yourself with that piece of information for now. “I’ll pray for his recovery.” You try to offer her and yourself consolation before you hold each other's gazes for a lingering and then can’t hold back a moment longer and wrap each other in an endearing embrace.

“I missed you,” you whisper again, but this time in a quivering voice.

Your grandmother's embrace tightens, and her chin rests on your head for a moment before she speaks quietly. “And I you, my little Siren.”

You stay in each other's embrace for a lingering moment because for the both of you, a special comfort has been rekindled in your hearts; one your grandmother has been missing since your father died, and a comfort you have longed for since you were separated from your family.

You almost don’t want to let go but you both break away, and right away you’re hit with even more joy when you notice the young woman behind her, your own cousin Baela—She’s a woman now too, beautiful, and just as mischievous looking.

“Baela,” you greet happily before you rush to her and immediately wrap her in an embrace. “Letters are truly not enough,” you mumble, and neither of you can help but laugh out of the pure joy over seeing each other again before you pull back and grab a hold of each other's hands to stay close. “You're absolutely breathtaking.” You compliment her.

Baela offers you a soft smirk in return before she points at you with her chin. “As are you. Motherhood has treated you well.”

You snicker and remember the little person you want them to meet. “That reminds me,” you change the subject and let her go to turn and walk to Aemond to take Aerion from him.

“Grandmother, Baela,” you say and face them with your infant clutching onto you. “This is Aerion.” You glance at your baby boy and smile proudly. “I’m sorry if he might seem grumpy, we took a long flight and went past his nap time.”

Your grandmother approaches you and reaches out for Aerion’s hand, but the baby hides it and watches her as if he’s scared.

“It’s okay,” you assure Aerion. “It’s just your great-grandmother.” You huff softly and meet her gaze, catching a soft gleam in her eyes.

“He resembles your father when he was a babe,” your grandmother mentions quietly as she caresses the child’s cheek. “Except for his eyes, Aerion has his father's eyes.” She glances past your shoulder to steal a look at the tall man lurking in the shadows—“Congratulations, granddaughter,” your grandmother offers you wholeheartedly, but when it comes to Aemond her smile falters and that gleam disappears. “And to you, Prince Aemond, you have a beautiful son.”

You share a happy look with Aemond, and he simply offers her a stiff thankful nod, letting you move on back to your cousin. “I simply have a lot to catch you up on, Baela, why don’t I show you to my chambers while Aerion sleeps.”

Baela nods without hesitation, so you return to Aemond to hand him Aerion. “Can you take him to the handmaidens before you go to training?”

Aemond nods as he holds your gaze. “Of course. Will I see you for dinner?”

You nod and lean in to press a chaste kiss on his lips before you caress Aerion’s cheek, and then hurry back to Baela to hook your arm around hers and rush her to your chambers like a pair of excited adolescents. Once you’re in the safety of your quarters you don’t waste any time, you serve yourselves some wine and drape yourselves over your couch near the fire to talk about all that you haven’t written in your frequent letters to each other. Even Cregan comes up because she knows that you became friends, and she knows about the letters you send back and forth, but that’s all, she doesn’t know about the deeper connection you share.

No one knows, not Jacaerys, not your mother, not Rhaena, just Cregan and you.

It would be nice to tell her and Rhaena. it would feel nice not keeping the weight of that secret just to yourself. You want to gossip about him, share all the sweet things he’s done and said, and the fact he was like a hot fire in the midst of a cold storm, so warm, caring, and passionate, even if doesn’t look it, even if has a tough outer shell, and this piercing look that could kill, he was all those things and so much more. He was everything sweet and beautiful in this world to you, and cold and bitter winters felt kind because of him. He was everything you looked for in a lover.

You want to say that and so much more, but…where you are isn’t the place to share such matters, nor do you actually know that you can ever share that part of your life, you can’t risk the wrong person finding out. So as for now, you’re fine sharing that you’re friends who haven’t lost touch. Besides, it's relieving having Baela to talk to. Helaena is sweet, and you have your fun, she’s your closest friend now, but well there’s only so much you can actually talk to Helaena about. It’s different, so having Baela is like a breath of fresh air.

“Perhaps you should have married Lord Cregan instead,” Baela mentions after you summarize what he wrote to you this week. “He seems like the more…sane man.”

You snap your gaze to her and leave a long slightly tense silence that she picks up on and tries to figure out by looking at you to read you, but when she meets your gaze you begin to laugh.

“Aemond is good,” you tell her in your husband's defense. “He’s very kind to me. I mean Cregan is more rugged sure, but,” you snicker. “Aemond is passionate, he's sweet, he's like the stars and the moon.”

Baela snorts and probes teasingly. “And what does that mean? Bright and only sometimes there?”

You laugh softly and look away from her judgmental gaze to look at the ceiling as if you’re admiring a starry sky. “He’s beautiful, bright, yet timid like the moon and the stars on a cloudy night,” you muse and unknowingly describe Aemond’s love in the same manner you just thought about Cregan’s love. “He’s fiercely loyal like the moon because even if it’s daytime, or the night sky is covered in clouds, you know he’ll always be there. and even if he doesn’t look it, he's got so much love to give. He’s gentle, and forever mine.”

Baela stays quiet for a moment and doesn’t try to garner any kind of understanding, she scoffs in disgust and retorts. “Was he all those things when he slashed you across the face?”

You roll your eyes and further your defense for him. “He didn’t mean to cut me, it was an accident. But let’s not dwell in the past.” You exclaim and swing your legs off the couch to walk to the small table with a wine cup in one hand, and Cregan’s letter in the other.

“Let’s instead speak of the future, like you and my brother,” you tease her as you roll up Cregan’s letter you can't keep—you’ve kept only some, but you can’t keep them all. Not unless you want Aemond to find them—“will you still be matched?” You ask.

“I don’t know.” Baela shrugs. “Rhaena has said that your mother does plan to propose the idea, but until it’s confirmed I can’t be sure.”

You hum and finally let the candles fire eat away all the lovely words written on the paper. You watch as the fire takes more and more of it, quickly approaching your fingers and increasing its heat, but not burning your flesh.

“Well,” you sigh hopefully. “I hope it does end up happening. I mean we’d be good sisters, and you’d be my Queen in the distant future,” you giggle and peer over at her, catching her smile.

“I hope it happens too,” Baela admits, while you glance back at the letter and see that the flames are kissing the tip of your fingers now. It should hurt, but the heat doesn’t burn. You feel its warmth on your flesh, but that’s it. There’s no sharp pain, nothing that brings you agony…

How strange.

“…I could make you stay.”

Oh damn!

You throw what remains of the letter in the fireplace and very nonchalantly spin back to face her. “Oh,” you laugh and just guess what she was saying. “You’d make me huh? Well,” you scoff and place your cup down. “Who am I to refuse you? Future Queen Baela.”

Said girl giggles and sits up to face you with a narrowed gaze. “I’d order everyone—Bring me a flagon of your finest wine,” she mocks in an exaggerated regal voice.

You shoot her a playful look before you burst out laughing. “A flagon? That’s what you’d want?”

Baela shrugs. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything else.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you still have a lot more to go before you become Queen,” you tease her and feign concern before sipping your wine.

Baela quickly grabs a pillow and hurls at you, but luckily you caught her in time so you move and miss getting hit, but you still fall back on the couch as you both fall into a fit of laughter that makes the lighthearted mood linger in your chamber room the entire time she’s with you. Even after she leaves and Aemond joins you, that lighthearted feeling only heightens. It literally has you giddy all day and you know most of it is due to the fact that a part of your family is here and the other is coming.

All this time you’ve been surrounded by people who only serve to gawk and talk nonsense behind your back. Even if you aren’t a bastard they still look at you as if you are one because of who your brothers are. And those who don’t whisper about you, or pierce their glare hoping you’ll somehow implode, are all insufferable, like Aegon, Ser Criston, and the Alicent. You only have Helaena, Aemond, Aerion, and Astraea.

It’s why having your mother and brothers return to the Red Keep is so exciting, you’ll at last be surrounded by a family that loves you and doesn’t judge you. Sure the reasons why they’re coming are not as graceful, but you’re so happy and eager regardless.

Yet it’s that same excitement that doesn’t let you sleep, and poor Aemond feels it.

“If you sleep the night will pass by quicker,” he grumbles with his eyes closed. Stop moving, or I imagine you’ll end up sleeping alone the rest of the night.”

You can't help but smile before you flip around on your side to face him on his back and with his face turned away from you.

“My heart is racing too fast, I can’t keep my eyes closed,” you finally whisper after a long night of silence. “I’m too excited.”

Aemond sighs deeply since he knows that already and responds with silence, letting you imagine he’ll just keep ignoring you, but a few moments later he turns to face you with his eye heavy with sleep.

“Forgive me,” you coo at him and brush away a long strand of hair from his face. He hums contently and grabs your hand to keep it on his face.

“Were you this excited to see me?” His question surprises you but makes you eager to answer.

“I was more nervous,” you admit with a teasing smile. “I was just as restless, but I was feeling a scared nervousness. I didn’t know who I was coming back home to. I would hear people talk about Aegon and Helaena, but I never heard whispers of you in the North. You were a mystery. And as intrigued as I did feel, my fear was greater.”

Aemond says nothing but you know he comprehended all that you just said.

“I was also angry,” you remind him making him huff softly in comprehension. “And I was also worried that you would have met and loved another lady.”

Aemond scoffs and shakes his head. “There’s only been you, my love.”

You wish you could share the same sincerity with him, but your lust for Cregan completely won you over and he turned out to be your first everything.

“Well…there was someone,” Aemond catches you off guard and piques your curiosity. “But she wasn’t really someone,” he pauses and he averts his gaze. “When I turned thirteen, Aegon took me to the street of silk…”

You go rigid and that smile you carried falls, while the excitement washes away as your heart falls to your stomach.

“I didn’t know what he had set up for me until we got to a brothel and,” he takes another short and grows quieter when he finishes. “…He said because he's the older brother he needed to ensure I was educated as he was.”

He doesn’t need to finish the rest of his story to figure out what happened that night. You piece it together and grow angry that Aegon would dare and do that to his little brother the day he turned 13! He was just a boy.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you share the sympathy you also feel for Aemond. “You were a boy.”

Aemond finally meets your gaze and in his silence, you caress his cheek and lean closer to press your forehead against his.

“I’m really am sorry.”

You miss the way the corner of Aemond’s lips tug upward softly as he shakes his head. “It wasn’t your doing and it happened long ago.”

“Still, it happened, and you’ve had to live with that memory. It’s horrible,” you argue softly. “I mean I can’t fathom having someone traumatize Aerion like that. You didn’t deserve it. You were thirteen.”

Aemond answers with silence so you push yourself up to cradle his head and press him against your chest. He quickly finds comfort in your embrace and wraps his arm around your body to keep you close to him.

“I’m glad you told me,” you whisper as you brush your fingers through his hair. “I hate Aegon even more, but it makes me feel a lot closer to you.”

Aemond hums and his breath tickles your flesh as he whispers sweet words filled with genuine and deep affection but also backed with possessiveness and insecurity that you can't hear. “I love you.”

You smile sweetly and don’t hesitate to say it back with just as much tenderness in your voice as the one he just carried. “I love you too.”

——

*A FEW HOURS LATER*

You did end up sleeping for a bit after your heart-to-heart with Aemond, but the moment you woke up you began to wait and wait, imagining how the reunion would go, imagining how your mother would react to meeting Aerion for the first time.

After your break fast, go through gowns and gowns until you find your prettiest red-colored gown, and the most shiniest jewelry to impress your mother. You grow very impatient as each second passes to see her and your brothers; all five of them, that once the time approaches for their arrival you make sure to be out at the courtyard early just to greet them—Although you aren’t excited to see her partner. Maybe if you pretend he isn’t there he’ll disappear….

A girl can wish.

Regardless, when the gates begin to open and bannermen carrying the Targaryen house sigil rush in the courtyard your breath grows unsteady, but that doesn’t measure up to the way your chest aches with the building anticipation when a royal carriage rolls in and quickly comes to a halt.

You’ve dreamt of reuniting with your mother and brothers since the moment you left. All you’ve ever wanted was to be with them again, so you can’t help your racing heart, nor can you keep yourself from biting your cheek as you fiddle with your pendant, and smile brightly.

“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

You step down the stairs and watch the carriage door open, albeit you're welcomed with darkness so you slightly tilt your head and narrow your gaze until finally the sunlight hits her face when your mother comes out first.

There she is and she hasn’t aged a day it seems, she looks just as breathtaking as when you last saw her. Only now she carries a small swollen belly where your sixth sibling grows, besides that, she looks the same and still doesn't fail to make you feel a sense of relief and comfort, as if everything in this world was going to be okay.

She doesn't even have to meet your gaze for your whole body to relax, seeing her gaze wander the exterior is enough comfort. Thus, you let her take in what might be new to her and instead take this second to drift your gaze too and look at the people that walk out of the carriage, hoping to see your brothers next, but it’s just Prince Daemon—gross.

He looks a bit plumper, and he has more wrinkles than before, but age does that to a person and he is old now.

Nevertheless, a soothing and excited voice calls out your name, pulling your attention back to your mother, and noticing that she found you now.

“Mother,” you call out breathlessly and break away from your spot to meet her halfway with an embrace. “Oh,” you breathe out softly and nuzzle your face in the crook of her neck.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she coos as she caresses the back of your head. “How I've missed you.”

You draw in a deep shaky breath and find that she still smells like sweet berries and flowers.

“I’ve missed you too, so much.” You cry happily in her neck and hug her tighter, making her hold onto you tighter before she presses her face against your head to try and be as connected as you physically can before you ultimately have to pull away.

However, when you pull back you grab each other's hands to not let go yet and study each other from up close.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she says again as she lifts her hand to caress your cheek with her soft thumb. “You're so beautiful…And so grown,” she pauses and shakes her head. “I've missed so much, you're a woman now.” She beams at you with a wobbly grin while a joyous gleam reflects in her eye.

You grin back. “And you are just as beautiful,” you redirect. “And don't worry, we're together again and we won't be separated for so long again,” you reassure her and then glance down to touch her belly. “How is she?”

Your mother giggles. “Healthy and growing every day.” She blinks and looks past you to search the area behind you. “Aerion?” She asks excitedly.

You pull your hand away from her belly and sigh. “Sleeping, besides you’re rushed now, I’ll take him to you later when you have time. I’m eager for you to meet him,” you let her know.

“Which reminds me,” she interjects and secures her hand around one of yours before she pulls you towards two small blond-silver-haired toddlers behind her. “Sweetling meet your brothers, Aegon,” she introduces as she caresses the chin of a boy with pin-straight hair wearing an all-black outfit.

“Hello,” you greet the toddler. “Aren't you the cutest little boy? I’m your sister.”

He looks like Daemon. They have the same eyes, however, your brother does have a sweet charm that Daemon doesn't, especially when Aegon smiles briefly before hiding his face in the handmaiden's shoulder because he makes you laugh.

“And this is Viserys,” your mother adds and points to a smaller toddler with the same hair color but wearing red and gold. Unlike Aegon, Viserys waves, and he looks like your mother.

“You’ll make a fine and charming knight, I see it already,” you tell the little boy before you step back to look at both toddlers. “You’ll make friends with Aerion soon,” you tell them.

Now that those introductions are done with nevertheless, you let your mother's hand go and turn to try and find your brothers, but luckily you’re immediately welcomed with the sight of two tall young men with dark hair already staring at you. You don’t need introductions to know who’s who, you recognize them instantly.

“Jace, Luke!” You exclaim before you stride over to try and stay composed in front of other people, but you can’t contain your excitement, nor can they contain theirs; you laugh excitedly and break into a sprint. When you get close enough you throw your arms around the both of them to pull them into a group embrace.

“Look how you’ve both grown!” You exclaim and pull back to grab their shoulders to study these changed faces they have grown into.

“Look at you,” Lucerys counters sweetly. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

You shoot him a sweet smile. “I would say the same thing considering you’re taller now, and lost those precious curls, but you still carry that sweet face.”

Lucerys scoffs softly and his cheeks grow red whilst he offers you a soft and sweet smile. Yet when his eyes land on your scar his smile falters.

“Cool huh?” You redirect. “My friend, Lord Stark says it adds character. Perhaps I shall tell you how I got it.” You try to make him feel better so he doesn't worry over a scar that happened years ago and wasn't his fault.

“Please do,” Jacaerys interjects, drifting your eyes to the taller brown-haired boy who now has a stronger chin, broader shoulders, and a charming grin rather than that sweet and innocent smile you remember him having.

“Have you grown?” You tease Jacaerys. “I think you’ve…hm, nope you’ve stayed the same height, Little Prince.”

Lucerys snickers and Jacaerys parts his lips to snap back but he just glares at you instead and mutters, “I’ve matured, I suggest you do the same.”

Lucerys and you look at each other with the same teasing look before you both burst out laughing. Jacaerys watches the both of you with a pout, but he can’t stand it so he laughs with you.

“How I’ve missed you sister,” Jacearys says as he pats your shoulder.

“We have so much to catch up later,” you lean in and whisper. “Now, now,” you repeat happily and turn away from them to face the little boy in front of the timid Rhaena.

“You must be Joffrey,” you direct at the boy and pick up your gowns skirt to crouch before him. “I’m your sister,” you say and then state your name even though your name has been spoken to him many times in your absence. You just feel like doing that courtesy to the little boy. “The last time I saw you, you were an itty babe. Now you’re almost a man grown.” You beam at him.

He smirks and raises his chin proudly. “I remember,” he counters a bit smugly.

You snicker and hear your mother laugh softly.

“Ah, do you?” You question him and look at him with an entertained and feigned curious look.

Joffrey nods. “I do.”

You shoot him a smirk and mirror his confidence. “Good then, have you missed me terribly?”

“I have.” He nods in agreement.

You stand to your given height and grin at him. “Good answer, that’s what I like to hear.” You praise him and ruffle his hair before you proceed to glance up to meet the kind gaze of Rhaena.

“Cousin,” you greet.

“Princess,” she greets before you both close the gap with a much more gentle hug. “It’s nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise,” you say and pull back. “You look lovely.”

Rhaena offers you a shy smile and then says, “Congratulations on your babe. I know I’ve said it before, but it’s not the same as in person.”

You touch your chest and speak with delight. “Thank you so much, it means a lot. I’ll bring him around later when you’ve settled, and after lunch with Baela?” You ask. “I want to hear all you have to say. Well, all you can’t write on a letter.”

“That sounds like a marvelous idea,” Rhaena assures you.

You smile softly and whisper, “good,” before you step back and get ready to finally bring them inside—

Until you remember someone else with them.

You exhale out your nose and merely face your stepfather Daemon with a feigned smile. “Prince Daemon, I hope the sea wasn't rough.”

Said man shakes his head stiffly. “Not at all. It’s a pleasure seeing you again.”

You hide your face of disgust and hum softly before you respond very dryly. “And you.” You sigh and quickly point to the doors to end this greeting. “Let’s head inside.”

They all follow you without question, and the moment they're surrounded by castle walls and protected by a tall ceiling, everyone gawks at the change that the Red Keep has gone through since they were last here until those who have to break away from the group get sent away, leaving you with your mother, Daemon, and the babies.

“Cassandra,” you tell one of the servants following you. “Show my mother's handmaidens to the kids' chambers, they can stay with Aerion. “Have baths drawn for my mother and the prince after their visit with the King, and set for lunch at the gardens for my cousins and I.”

The servant nods her head and scurries off, letting your mother fall beside you. “Being in charge suits you,” she praises you.

You smile softly. “It’s either that or sewing by my fire,” you scoff. “There’s not much I can do here, so I take what I can.”

You meet her gaze and shoot her smirk. “And I also like it.”

Your mother smiles back at you, but you then falter and sigh deeply. “I do what I can,” you add from deep inside. “With grandfather, at court…I hope you understand that.”

Your mother shakes her head softly. “Don’t you worry about that, my sweet,” she assures you. “I understand.”

The corner of your lips tug to a relieved smile and her words do work to assure your worry.

Throughout the year there has been this pesky doubt in your head that made you think you’d somehow disappoint your mother. It’s good that she doesn’t think so even though you don’t have much power here, not with Alicent seeming to ice you out after about a month of trying to be kind? You try your best with what you can do; whether it’s putting out good words for your family, and or doing good deeds in your mother's name. And with your grandfather, well, you try what you can, but that’s not much besides simple company.

“I would say it’s nice to be home,” your mother interjects with a change of subject. “But I scarcely recognize it.”

Daemon hums and walks ahead, letting you comment in high Valyrian so bypassers won’t understand. “<The vipers have spread their poison deep in these halls.>” You steal a glimpse at all the faith symbols that have replaced the dragons and huff.

“<I see that,” your mother responds in the same language. “It’s unfortunate they can’t poison themselves.>

You hum in agreement and keep quiet as footsteps trail up behind you while you climb the stairs that lead to the King's chambers.

“Princess,” a familiar voice calls out.

You look back and see Vanessa, so you stop in your tracks and let your mother catch up to her husband so you can hear what Vanessa has to urgently say.

“What is it?” You probe.

Vanessa leans by your ear and whispers, “there was a problem in Aegon’s chambers involving a servant girl. She was then taken to the Queen's quarters right away.”

You snap your eyes to meet her gaze and the corner of your lips pulls to a smirk. “Good job. Thank you for telling me, go find out more and talk to me later.” You tell her and grab her hand with a smile. “Be careful.”

Vanessa nods and then turns to leave back where she had come from, letting you catch up to the pair you had been with. And once Vanessa is out of sight they both look at you curiously, and only your mother presses you.

“Is everything all right?”

You draw in a deep breath and this time give Daemon your attention too. “I don’t know,” you exhale. “It truly depends…<the serpent is getting ready to strike again.>” You hide your smirk as they’re only more confused and instead just leave them to their curiosity for now. “I’ll tell you later. I can’t now.”

It’s not the most jaw-dropping news, and it’s not surprising either, but you know that they’ll at least be somewhat shocked that you have a way to know, and you also know Daemon will like what you have to say since you both hate how the Hightower’s like to think they’re holier than thou but ignore the nasty activities that Aegon does so it won't taint their image in all the wrong ways.

It's absurd and annoying, and they're all hypocrites, but regardless since your mother and Daemon are going to visit your grandfather, you let them be and catch up to your brothers instead.

“Jace! Luke!” You call to them the moment you see the back of their heads, making them stop in their tracks just before they can reach the door.

“You should have told us to wait for you,” Jacaerys says as he watches you get between them.

You shrug. “Matters come up, I wouldn’t have wanted you to waste your afternoon waiting,” you explain and hook your arm around Lucerys to walk with them now. “Anyways, where is it you’re heading to?”

“Training yard,” Lucerys points out even if you already knew since you recognize the hall. “We’ve just been walking around. Seeing what's new.”

You hum and feel the gentle breeze the moment the doors open for the three of you and welcome you outside to the sound of clashing metal, clamoring echoes throughout the training yard, and murmurs from the stairs.

At first when you had just arrived from Winterfell, hearing and seeing the halls and courtyards filled with people was hard getting used to since Winterfell was quieter and less busy, but now the noise and all the people are tuned out.

“Now tell me sweet brothers how much you’ve missed seeing my pretty face,” you interject teasingly and let Lucerys go to spin around on your heels and walk back on the stairs, making Lucerys grow concerned over your lack of care.

“The days have been truly dreadful,” Jacaerys feeds your ego. “The years passed by with little meaning without you.”

You flash Jacaerys a grin and squeal. He may be sarcastic but you don’t care, you like his response regardless.

“Be careful,” Lucerys warns, but you ignore him and spin around to grab the railing and rush down the stone steps. “How does it look now that you’ve gotten older? I know I thought this castle was much bigger when I returned.”

“Really?” Lucerys questions. “It’s smaller than I remember.”

You hum softly and glance out at the training yard, catching a crowd of people surrounding Aemond at the far end of the yard.

He isn’t hard to miss, his long silver hair gives him away, and his fascinating skills attract anyone passing by. He surely catches your attention right now too, just like the many times before.

“It looks exactly the same,” Jacaerys retorts in a much more lighthearted tone than your little brother. “Oh, Luke, come on.”

Jacaerys rushes past you and chooses to lead the way.

“I have to show you both my archery skills,” you interject happily and run to a rack of weapons. “I think they’re a lot better than my sword skills, especially when I’m on Dragonback!”

However, before you can grab a bow Jacaerys grabs your hand and pulls you with him towards the gates. “Look,” he laughs and pats a dent on the stone wall. “This is what Lucerys made with Ser Criston’s Morningstar.”

You share an entertained gaze and feel the bumpy dent. “Little Luke?” You ask.

Jacaerys nods. “Yes! He thought he was stronger than he was,” he says and turns to speak louder so Lucerys can hear now. “See? I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston’s Morningstar.” He then glances at you again and snickers. “He almost took his own head off.”

You giggle softly before you pull him back to the rack where Lucerys stayed. Rather than grabbing a bow and arrows though, your gaze falls on the sparring swords.

“Careful,” Jacaerys warns with feigned concern. “What would your husband say about you grabbing such a weapon? This is for men.”

You roll your eyes and wrap your hand around a long sword. “He can go speak to Astraea if he has anything to say about it.”

Jacaerys scoffs softly, but rather than countering with something witty, he addresses something else. “What’s your problem?”

You pick your eyes off the weapons and look at your side, catching a glum frown on Lucerys face, and growing concerned too.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” Lucerys answers quietly.

You peer back and catch gawkers whispering amongst each other as their eyes pierce into your brothers.

One doesn't need to be a genius to know what they’re whispering about, it’s why you’re so quick to pierce a glare into all of them, but since they’re so focused on their gossip they don’t catch you glaring right back at them. Nor do you actually draw their attention just yet, you play it off discreetly and instead counter back to Jacaerys by clashing the sword in your hand against the dagger he had picked up.

Jacaerys flashes you a proud grin, and you mirror it before you both turn toward the rack again and fist bump.

No matter how far you’ve been, or the fact that you haven't seen each other in years, your bond hasn’t broken. Now that they aren’t little and annoying—well they’re still probably annoying because they are your little brothers, but now that you’re older, you get along a lot better than before.

This is a fine example, neither Jacaerys nor you have to say anything, you just clash your sparring weapons as if it was planned.

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark…” Lucerys adds and goes quieter. “If…I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon and you, sister, rather than Ser Harwin Strong.”

You put the weapon down and shuffle closer to him before you look back again, and let yourself get noticed this time by the onlookers who aren’t gathered around Aemond and Ser Criston. You don’t shoot them daggers, but you do meet their gazes and lift your nose in the air to demonstrate your power.

They realize they were caught staring and gossiping so they shut their mouths and turn to slowly walk away, letting you exhale and face Lucerys now. “People talk regardless,” you tell him and grab his shoulder so he can meet your gaze. “It doesn’t matter who you are, or what you might look like, they talk because they have nothing better to do with their lives. Ignore them, what they think doesn’t matter. They’re commoners with nothing compared to you.”

You offer your brother a soft smile before you ruffle his hair. Lucerys exhales softly and offers you a tiny smile.

After that, before anything else can be said, the sound of cracking wood and cheering steals the attention of all three of you and pulls towards Aemond and Ser Criston sparring.

Like many times before they’re the stars of the training yard, when they spar many people gather to watch them fight. And why wouldn't they? They’re an impressive pair.

“Come,” you urge your brothers before you break away from them to push through the crowd and watch Aemond swing his shiny sword from up close. However, he misses as Ser Criston slides back, making you focus all of your attention on his counterattack, and hold your breath as you watch how Aemond barely blocks the move with his shield.

After Aemond throws the shield to the side and stands back to his given height, you slowly breathe out and squint your eyes to follow how he swings his arm at the knight.

Nonetheless, Ser Criston then responds by swinging his weapon but ends up failing and hits the ground, making the pair then swiftly switch sides and watch each other.

You begin to smirk and watch them circle each other before Ser Criston uses his aggression and swings at Aemond, but misses every time. It’s only as he gets closer that he finally makes contact when your husband chooses to clash his sword against the weapon before he spins around Ser Criston and brings an end to the spar by pointing the blade at his throat.

You immediately beam and clap with glee.

“Well done, my prince,” Ser Criston says as he lowers his hand. “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” Aemond snaps back. “Nephews,” he then addresses your brothers beside you without actually looking at them.

He doesn't even proceed to, no first he lowers his weapon and then meets your gaze briefly before he drops his eye on your brothers.

“You come to train?” Aemond asks.

The corner of your lips tug to a soft smile and you look at your brothers to await their response, but Aemond then addresses you, “My love.”

You blink and meet his gaze again with a smile before you both meet halfway.

“Have you come to train?” He asks as he grabs your hand to lift your knuckles to his lips and press a gentle kiss on them.

“I’ve come to see you train,” you rebuttal and grab his shoulder to lean in and give him a small kiss on his lips. “<I’ve missed you, it’s like I haven’t seen you all day.>” You comment in High Valyrian.

Aemond smirks and cups your jaw. “<Let me kiss you so I can have something to think about when you’re not with me.>”

Sweet words like those are why you came to be with child so quickly after your marriage. His voice is so sexy and soothing, it's like a spell in your ears. He enchants you with every word that goes past his pink lip. It’s why you can’t say no, you kiss him with a burning passion that grows every day, and eagerly bite his bottom lip without caring that there’s a crowd; they want something to look at? Well, they can see the love you and Aemond share.

The one and only reason why you cut the kiss short is because your brothers are here, but you still don’t step away from Aemond, you hold his gaze with a smirk.

“Open the gates!” Voices break through the courtyard, causing you to slide your hands to Aemond’s chest and turn your head to watch the gates.

Much to your misfortunate though, it’s your uncle Ser Vaemond Velaryon; he marches down surrounded by his people proudly showing off the Velaryon sigil and the bright house colors.

You know he sees the crowd, the boy that he wants to dethrone, but he acts like he doesn’t care, and acts nonchalant as he slithers past.

Oh, but you can't wait for that smirk to be wiped off his face when he loses his fight on the morrow. If only you can do it now. What you’d give him to see him beg for his pathetic life in front of Astraea, or any dragon really.

It’s a bit extreme, sure, but who in the Seven Hell cares? You don’t.

——

*LATER*

“Look at that!”Jacearys exclaims and pulls your hand to him to get a closer look at the glimmering sapphire ring on your finger. “It’s huge! Mother look.” He lifts your hand over the couch, making you lift your head to peer over. Albeit your mother doesn’t pay much mind to the ring on your finger, she just glances and hums before she focuses back on Aerion. Ever since you brought him to her all she does is swoon over him, she doesn’t even seem to want to let him go. She especially likes how little Viserys finds baby Aerion so fascinating.

They’re so young and untouched by this stupid feud between the family that it’s nice watching them play so innocently with each other. Sure, at first Aerion was cautious of her and the others, but that’s because he hadn’t seen any of them before until this very moment. After he accumulated he quickly became equally as enamored by his grandmother and couldn’t get enough of her.

Maybe he can also sense the babe she carries?

“How is it that you carry yourself?” Jacaerys teases and drops your hand. “I mean that big head of yours is already weighing you down.” He snickers, and Lucerys stifles his laughter.

You look away from your mother to shoot Jacaerys a pointed look as you fake laugh before you shove him back with your foot.

“Look at your hands,” you redirect as you stroke your cat's fur. “It looks like they haven’t seen a day of work in your entire life.” You blink and look back at Baela with a smirk. “How can you marry a prince like that?” You tease with a snarky laugh.

Baela smiles softly, and Jacaerys rolls his eyes and sits on your legs since your head is on Baela’s lap. “Let me see your hands then,” he argues.

You lift your left hand off your cat and show him a scar that trails over your middle, ring, and pinky finger. “I got this from ice.”

Lucerys drags himself over on the couch and leans over to look at what you’re showing off.

“Fuck off,” Jacaerys scoffs.

You sit up straight and let Rhaena see too since she approaches with curiosity of her own. “I’m being completely honest!” You defend yourself. “Ice burns! The maester said I was lucky, I could’ve gotten my fingers amputated.”

“Okay,” Jacaerys plays along as he still finds your story made up. “How did you get it?”

You smile softly at your hand as a memory of Cregan and Arra comes to mind. “Uh, my friends Lord Stark, his lady wife, and I were out skating on the iced-over lake, and then we heard a cry out in the woods nearby, so me, being ever so curious—” you laugh softly and glance at all of them paying close attention. “I went to check it out, that’s when we saw a stag stuck under an ice cap. I didn’t have gloves on so as Cregan helped the stag, and Arra helped me, I lifted the ice cap with my sleeves over my hands. Albeit half of my left sleeve slipped so it only covered half of my hand, and I couldn’t let the ice go or else it would hit the stag again, so I had to let it burn.”

Jacaerys sits back and hums with his eyes squinted on you, so you challenge his gaze.

“I’m telling the truth! I swear it,” you plead your case.

“I knew ice was cold,” Lucerys interjects, “but I never knew it could do that.”

You nod softly. “Ice is dangerous, but it’s beautiful. At night when the moon hits it, it shines like stars.” You grin with excitement. “We need to go North. All of us, on Dragonback! Rhaena can ride with me since Astraea is bigger. I know a spot on The Wall we can go to so we can see what lies behind it.”

“I thought the dragons didn't go past it,” Rhaena adds, causing your gaze to drift to her—“I read it. Is it true?”

You glance down and think back to the few times you did fly to the wall. “Well,” you answer unsurely. “We never went past the wall, we would land on top of it each time, but,” you hum and blink repeatedly in confusion. “I think now that you mention it, Astraea would never wander past the wall, she’d stay perched or just circle behind me.”

“Huh,” Jacaerys breathes out thoughtfully.

You look at Rhaena and smirk at her. “Thanks for pointing it out, Rhaena,” you add. “I never gave it much thought, now I’m extremely curious as to why.”

“Perhaps,” Baela cuts in with a smirk that matches yours. “We should try it out? See what the dragons do this time. That’d be fun!”

You nod in agreement, and just as you do the door opens, pulling the attention of everyone to the entrance. That’s when you see Prince Daemon walk in, and you instantly begin to lose your smile.

You’d ask what he was doing here but unfortunately, he is your mothers…husband—

Please if your eyes rolling could make a sound, it would be the loudest sound in the room.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Daemon cuts through the silence that had built in the parlor room. “As you were.”

You cross your arms over the couch to rest your chin on your hands and watch every step he takes with a discreet piercing glare as he approaches your mother holding Aerion.

It doesn’t matter if he’s your mother's husband, your uncle, step-father, and father of your younger brothers, you don’t like him. You don’t trust him. You don’t like how carries himself as if he’s the best in the world. You don’t like the way he talks or the way he acts. You had no reason to be wary of him before, but now?

It’s no accident how your father died. Ser Qarl cared for your father, he never had any ill intentions. He didn’t kill your father, his paramour. You just—no, you just know you're right!

Besides, it’s no coincidence your father's death happened as soon as Lady Laena died! You’ve heard the rumors of how creepy Daemon was with your mother when she was young. You know who he is, The Rogue Prince, it’s not unlike him to kill and manipulate to get something he wants.

You can’t make your mother see it, you have no proof. You can’t make your brothers support you for that same reason, so they can like him until then. And maybe you’re just delusional, feeding this stupid hatred, but how can you not think of it that way? How can you like him? You loved your father and he’s gone now, he died moments after Daemon walked into your mother's life again. In your eyes, Daemon is the monster that took him away. A demon incarnate.

His evil eyes catch your stare, but you don’t look away, you lift your nose in the air and narrow your glare until he’s the one that drifts his gaze away.

“Tell me my sweet,” your mother interjects as she walks to Daemon to show Aerion off with pride. “Has there been any improvement with the dragon egg?”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, it hasn’t hatched, but,” you add with a soft smile. “If it doesn’t then it’ll be fine. Maybe he’s meant to bond with Seasmoke or another dragon. Aemond hopes he will bond with a bigger one later on too.”

“It’s common for us to bond with dragons later on,” Daemon cuts in even if you did not ask. “Maybe he’s meant to ride the fiercest.”

You clench your jaw but hum in agreement, and thankfully your mother fills your silence. “Do you like the sound of that, little prince?” She tells Aerion. “Riding the fiercest dragon in the world?”

You watch her smile at him, and he smiles back, so you can’t help but do the same regardless of the thorn on your side that keeps stabbing you.

“If the gods are graceful,” she continues softer and grabs his little fist to press a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “You and my Visenya will ride side by side.”

Aerion coos happily, making your mother giggle and for Daemon to caress Aerion’s head.

You don’t like it, you’d take Aerion away from his proximity, but you hold yourself together and bite your tongue. Even if it is very, very difficult.

“What was the news that was shared with you earlier?” Daemon once again cuts in. “You said you’d share it.”

Calm down. Calm down…

You put the cat down to push yourself off the couch and stretch your limbs before you walk to the small table holding the wine. “<I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors that get spread around by the little birds about the Queen’s eldest son,” you begin to say to everyone in High Valyrian in case bypassers pass the parlor room, or stop by. “ Well,” you snicker as you pour yourself wine. “That’s been me and a close friend I met a couple of months back.>” You turn and walk towards the balcony doors to let the sun kiss your flesh.

Everyone in the room watches you closely, but you notice that it’s Daemon who pays more attention than most.

“<Today news,” you continue and take a sip of the sweet red wine. “Mhmm, well,” you smack your lips and lower the goblet. “My handmaiden found out that the eldest son assaulted a servant in his bedchambers. She then said…> you trail off and smirk as you turn, causing the sun's beaming rays to reflect off your eyes which in turn makes them burn ferociously, while the same sunbeams bounce off your white-silver hair so brightly that it’s like seeing diamonds gleam.

“<… that the Queen paid off the servant to keep her mouth shut and leave,” you pause to lift the cup to your lips and smirk deeply at your wine. “But I paid her triple to stay with my close friend.> You sip your wine and hear Daemon snicker.

This time you can’t help but be actually proud of his speechless approval.

“Why?” Lucerys asks.

You lower the goblet and meet his gaze. “<Why what? Why I take time out of my day to spy around the castle? Well, to taint the reputation of the Hightowers that they think is so holy. They parade the eldest son around as if he’s some angel or some Aegon the Conqueror incarnate, so I want to undermine them. And two,” you shrug. “I don’t like the eldest son, no one in the city does. He’s a drunk, and a rapist with no sense of duty…I’m also bored. That’s why.>”

Your mother hums and only takes a few steps towards where you are. “How do you do it?” She asks. “I'm sure that they have eyes on you all the time.”

You shake your head. “Not as much as you’d think, but,” you say and turn to walk to a round table. “<I remember you would disappear through secret doors,” you continue in Valyrian. “I came back, went exploring and after getting lost a few times I found myself around. We use that.>” You finish and lean back against the table's edge to set your goblet down.

“Who’s this friend?” Daemon probes.

“Do you trust her?” Jacaerys cuts in and gets off the couch.

You scoff and shake your head whilst you now push yourself off the table to walk to your mother and Aerion. “Only a fool would trust the White worm, but we have common enemies so we bond over our discontent of certain people.” You say and take Aerion from your mother now.

Your mother shares a slight smirk and says, “I never thought you could be so calculating, my sweet.”

You meet her gaze and shake your head. “Not calculating, I’m playing it smart, like you told me.”

Your mother responds with a gentle smile before she caresses your chin and then wanders over to Daemon. “You don’t happen to have something on Ser Vaemond do you?”

You laugh softly and shake your head. “No. Sorry, but don’t worry, I’m sure it will go the right way on the morrow.” You try to assure them before glancing at Lucerys and offering him an assuring smile.

Lucerys sighs deeply and slouches as his concern clouds over him.

“I’ll pray to the old gods, they listen.” You say hopefully before you look at your son. “Now we must go. We had a lovely day.”

You look at your mother and then at your brothers and cousins to offer them an excited grin. “It was good seeing you all. I’ve truly missed you all. It hasn’t felt like home until now,” you share and sigh softly before you walk to the door. “I’ll see you to break fast. Good night.”

“Good night!” Everyone says after you. And just before you can disappear past the doors, you offer them one last smile.

Once you’re out in the hall past the parlor room you meet your son's wandering gaze and speak to him. “Now let’s go see your father. He must miss us. I know I miss him, do you?”

The baby coos, making you laugh softly before you press him against your chest to embrace him with so much affection.

Last year you wished to be back at Winterfell, you wished for this life to be shared with Cregan, but now…you have to admit that you can’t picture your life with anyone else but Aemond. So…maybe it’s time that your letters to Cregan come to a stop…

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

The clamoring spread throughout the throne room cuts off, providing a chilling silence. Eyes fall on a Daemon right away as he walks down the stairs, but their gazes then quickly dart to his other side where your mother is since the petitions being held today are about Lucerys, and don't dare lose sight as if afraid they'd miss something. They itch to murmur their despicable rumors while they watch her, but they bite their tongue and just watch with caution and curiosity.

When it comes to you, the guard announces your name and your title but adds that last bit of information that has been attached to you since the day you wed, as if you turned to his property since that day. “…And the lady wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

You distaste it but there's nothing that can be done and Aemond says that there’s no harm in a title. But they don’t call him your husband every time he walks down some room, do they?

Regardless, the onlookers watch with slight surprise because for once since you’ve been married you’re not attached to Aemond, instead you trail behind your mother and take the lead in front of her heir, and the heir to Driftmark. Even Alicent’s gaze tears you apart as she watches you walk in with your nose in the air, and a sense of cockiness in the sway of your hips, showing that now that you were surrounded by your family you were out of her touch.

“Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon, followed by Lady Rhaena of House Targaryen.” The guard finishes announcing, letting the whispering pick up again, and the curious gazes focus solely on Lucerys, who was already feeling insecure as it is and probably feels even worse now.

Thus you slow down your pace to walk in between him and Jacaerys. “<You’re a prince,” you whisper to your little brother in High Valyrian as you shoot daggers at the audience watching him. “What they think does not matter.>”

Lucerys’s eyes fall on you and he hesitantly whispers back. “I know.”

You blink and look at him with a soft look and a sweet smile, making Lucerys mirror your gesture.

When you reach the front of the throne room you take a step towards the other side to go stand by Aemond, but you’re suddenly interrupted.

“Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.” The guard announces before closing the doors.

You quickly shuffle back to your mother's side and stand beside Jacaerys to watch the one person everyone was left waiting on, Ser Vaemond.

Your grandmother and Baela were already here, as were Alicent, Aemond, and his siblings, so now you’re stuck with your family and only able to hold Aemond’s gaze from across the floor.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds,” Lord Otto starts the petition and silences the crowd. “We gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all matters.” He says and pulls his coat to confidently sit on the Iron Throne. “The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

You clench your jaw and sigh, you don’t even bother to look at the man, you keep looking at your husband across from you as if you haven’t seen him your whole life.

“My Queen,” Ser Vaemond addresses the people who will determine who succeeds your grandfather Corlys. “My Lord Hand. The history of our noble houses extend beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria….”

Oh please can he just get on with it.

“…for as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom occurred on Valyria our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebears came to this new land knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.”

“As it does in my four eldest children,” your mother suddenly interrupts him. “The offspring of Laenor Velaryon.”

You glance at the ground and smirk proudly at your mother's words and confidence.

“If you care so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition—”

“You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Alicent cuts your mother off. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

What else can he say? That’s all that man can say unless he wants his tongue cut off.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?” Ser Vaemond directs at your mother now, causing you to lift your gaze and notice him now facing your mother. “I can cut my veins and show it to you…”

Oh gods, how pathetic.

You roll your eyes and meet Aemond’s gaze to share your annoyance. He was already looking at you so he responds with a small agreeing smirk.

“…and you still wouldn't recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” Ser Vaemond spats and then turns to face Lord Otto again. “My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor…the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

You exhale deeply in annoyance and clasp your hands in front of you, ending with you fiddling with your sapphire ring out of boredom.

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond,” Lord Ottos says, letting the man step aside to now address your mother. “Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

You lift your gaze again and watch your mother step in the center to now speak her argument. This time, unlike with Ser Vaemond, you actually care what has to be said.

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer. I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very—”

The doors suddenly opening cut off your mother's speech and turn all heads back. And when your eyes fall on the exit you gasp softly in surprise as you see none other than the sick King.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of his Name,” one of his Kingsguard announces to everyone in the hall, creating a disbelieved chill that everyone can feel. “…King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

He’s always been in too much pain to do much of anything, even when he’s lying down he doesn’t find comfort, but here he comes hobbling forward now, much to everyone's surprise and yours.

His breathing is clearly growing shallow but he makes no effort to stop, he pushes forward. He doesn’t even accept the help of his Kingsguard, he pushes on and only pauses once; that's when his crown slips off his head and clinks on the floor. And much to your surprise instead of letting the guards run to his aide, you catch Daemon leaving his spot to walk over to his brother the King. He picks up the crown that fell and helps his brother to his throne.

That alone surprises you more than your grandfather attending this petition. It shouldn’t, you saw how affectionate he was with your mother at breakfast, but Daemon’s…kindness shocks you.

“I must…” the King breaks the shocked silence that covers the hall. “…Admit…my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession.”

Exactly! So can we please now end this farce and your boredom!

“The only one present…” your grandfather continues to strain himself. “…who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

Your eyes, along with everyone else’s travel to your grandmother.

“Indeed, Your Grace,” she interjects very calmly and with as much surprise as everyone else before stepping to the center. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son…Lucerys Velaryon.”

If you could laugh at this very moment you would, but you can’t so you just smirk very smugly at Ser Vaemond.

“His mind never changed,” your grandmother continues to add. “Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corlys’s youngest granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena...”

So she did end up agreeing? The call was left for her to take. Or at least that was your understanding.

Good nevertheless. Now the twins will be your good-sisters as well!

You share that happiness with both Baela and Rhaena by offering them both a kind smile as your grandmother finishes speaking her argument.

“...a proposal to which I heartily agree.”

“Well,” your grandfather interjects. “The matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

The corner of your lips tug to a wider smile, and this time you meet your brother's gaze to share your pride, and soft and cocky, “I told you so,” look.

“You break law,” Ser Vaemond bluntly cuts in, causing your smile to fall and turn to an annoyed frown—“And centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir.”

You scoff under your breath and twist your face to show your disgust for this man and his words.

“Yet you dare tell me…who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No,” he mutters. “I will not allow it.”

Who does he think is?

“Allow it?” Your grandfather repeats with spite. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“That!” Ser Vaemond yells as he twists around on his heels to point at Lucerys with anger. “Is no true Velaryon. And certainly no nephew of mine.”

You raise your chin and scowl whilst you fist your hands at your sides.

“Go to your chambers,” your mother tells Lucerys before addressing Ser Vaemond. “You have said enough.”

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson,” your grandfather argues. “And you…are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

“You,” Ser Vaemond snaps. “May run your house as you see fit…but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom! And a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned,” he hisses and throws his head to the side to glare at Lucerys. “I will not see it ended on the account of this…” he trails off and closes his mouth, but you and your family know what he was going to say.

“Say it,” you catch Daemon quietly egg him on.

“Her sons,” Ser Vaemond continues and narrows his glare on your mother, making you step forward to her side and grab her hand.

“Are bastards!” Ser Vaemond bellows.

The audience begins to murmur, and you curl your lips to a scowl, whilst your mother's hand tightens around you.

“And she,” Ser Vaemond continues and faces the King. “Is…a whore.”

You swallow thickly and grab your mother's arm to try and give her comfort.

“I,” your grandfather pants, snapping your attention to him now out of his chair. “Will have your tongue for that.” He threatens him with his blade.

However, before anything can happen you’re startled by the sound of metal loudly slicing through flesh. When you look at where the sound comes from you gasp in horror, and quickly cover your mouth as you see half of Ser Vaemond’s head fall to the floor.

“He can keep his tongue,” Daemon retorts smugly as he puts his blade down.

“Disarm him!” Lord Otto shouts, causing the Kingsguard to pull out their blades and surround him.

“No need,” Daemon says as he cleans his sword with his cloak, and then returns to where he was.

“Call the maesters!” Alicent’s shout breaks you from your shock and snaps your eyes away from the bleeding body to watch her run to your grandfather groaning on his Iron Throne.

“Father?” Your mother calls out and slips away from you to head to him. However, she doesn’t make it far since Alicent is already helping him.

“Please, my love,” you hear her tell your grandfather as she helps him off his chair. “You must take something for the pain.”

“I will not cloud my mind,” he argues as he holds onto her. “I must put things right.”

The maester and one of his Kingsguard takes him from the Queen and helps him out of the Throne room, bringing it all to a bitter end once and for all, and letting people in that are going to come pick up the body, while you step away from your spot and face your family.

“I will see you all for supper,” you tell them with a soft smile.

Your mother nods in comprehension, and that’s all you need as a response to part ways with a gentle goodbye kiss on her cheek before you turn to walk towards Aemond, already waiting for you in the center.

When you get close he reaches his hand out for yours and you gladly take it. And unbeknownst to you, when you're heading out, he glances back at your family, and they watch his gaze linger for a moment with a sly smirk as if taunting them, or showing off how much you love him before he presses a kiss on your head and rolls his head ahead.

——

*LATER*

“A gift from the Queen,” you repeat what your handmaiden Vanessa said before she unveiled a gown slathered in green and hints of gold.

Sure it’s a beautiful gown, the shoulders are covered by gold metal dragon scales, and the front is very impressive; it has a long and elegant gold embroidered cut down the middle which is quite to your liking—you hate feeling restricted in a gown, but it’s green. She wants you to make a statement at supper in front of your mother and Aemond. You know it.

But you don’t want to pick sides. It’s stupid and there is no need for such a thing. So you don’t wear the green gown, nor do you choose a black one.

“Put it away,” you tell Vanessa, “I can wear it another day, but do send the Queen a thank you card. Pull out the lilac one instead, the one…with the pleated skirt and silk dragon scales over the breasts. I like the diamond cut it has over the belly and the sides ”

Vanessa smiles and nods. “That one is my favorite too. I much prefer the gold embroidered dragon scales on it though.”

You giggle and give your attention back to the letters you had saved from Cregan. You cherish his soft-spoken words and the way he writes. When you miss him you enjoy rereading what he wrote as if it was a story. But you…can’t have him as a temptation anymore, you love him, he was your first love, but you have to let him go for Aerion and Aemond.

Even if it hurts you have to let him go. You’ll miss him for a long time, maybe forever, but it’s for the best. Thus before Aemond can walk in, you approach the fireplace with the letters in your hand and crouch in front of the tall flames. You push the letters forward but hesitate before the flames can touch the parchment.

You can’t…

Your bottom lip begins to tremble, and a lump begins to form in your throat.

You can’t—but you have to. You have to. He has to be a memory. So after a deep breath, you close your eyes and throw the letters in the fire. When you feel nothing weighing your hands down, when you hear the fire crackle you slowly open your eyes and let tears escape past your eyes.

Cregan has to be a memory…

You watch the letters burn away, you watch the flames dance, feel the heat warm your face, but it never burns.

In fact, while you watch the flames eat away the parchment they seem to induce you, you feel suddenly captivated by the bright burning flames instead of cautious. For a moment it feels like there’s nothing else around you but fire.

You mindlessly begin to move your hand to reach out for the flames, even if in the back of your mind you’re telling yourself to stop, that it can burn, but you keep inching your hand closer and closer.

There comes a point where your fingers are embraced by the flames. Yet you don't break you from your stupor, now you’re completely fascinated, hoping that seeing your hands be unscathed by the fire isn’t some crazy dream. You move your hand deeper and smile as the fire keeps embracing your flesh, but then approaching from the hall are familiar footsteps, so you pull your hand away and quickly stand up.

A knock then raps on the door before it opens and Aemond walks in.

“You’re not dressed yet,” he points out.

You look away from the flames and meet his gaze. “I'm going to take a bath,” you tell him and walk to the bathtub but make sure to peer back to face him with a smirk. “Join me? Supper isn’t until, about, two hours?”

“One,” he corrects you.

You shrug him off and watch Vanessa walk out of your closet with your dress.

“Do you like the dress I picked out?” You ask him to pass the time while you wait for Vanessa to walk out before you can help him undress.

Aemond gives it a long look before meeting your gaze and nodding. “I like when you wear purple. It’s always been your favorite color.”

You grin brighter and nod. “It has because well, I heard that since lilacs bloom in the spring, the color lilac represents first love,” you speak out softly as you twist slowly on your heels to walk to him.

Aemond swallows thickly as he holds your gaze the entire time.

“And blue, sapphire blue, and red make purple,” you laugh and begin to fiddle with his buckles when you close the gap between the two of you.

Aemond hums and only looks away because Vanessa walks out of the room. When you can no longer hear her out in the hall he gives you all his attention and lets you take his eyepatch off.

“There it is,” you whisper as you place the eyepatch down before you then take no time to help him undress.

Aemond also steps in and slips your robe off, making you feel your body begin to burn with desire.

Once you’re both done you smack your lips together and begin to devour each other, as if it’s the first time. He pushes you back before he slides his hands to the back of your knees and helps you wrap them around his waist.

Aemond knows you have a task to do, so he sits you on the edge of the tub without letting your lips go and continues to move in sync with you until you’re the one who teases him and pulls back to dip the warm water.

Aemond scoffs in protest as he licks his swollen lips, but you just snicker and motion him over with your finger.

He challenges you as if protesting against what you did, but he can’t resist your charms so he ends up climbing in the water, and chooses to sink between your legs.

“You know,” you interject as you pull off the leather tie around his hair to let half of his hair fall over his shoulders. “I don’t even feel like going to supper.”

Aemond begins to caress your knee and probes. “Why not?”

You grab the bowl from the small table and duck it in the water to scoop some up. “Because of Daemon. Because he will be there lurking like a creep.”

Aemond hums, so you proceed to dump the water on his hair and continue to talk. “Acting like nothing happened. Like the world is his.” You scoff.

“You had breakfast with him,” Aemond points out.

You roll your eyes and shake your head whilst you begin to gently massage Aemond’s hair with what you have in hand to clean it and make it silky and soft just the way he likes it. “Yes out of courtesy. I wanted to spend time with my mother, siblings, and cousins, I can’t just be like “hey you can’t join us for breakfast.” He’s my mother's husband, and my little brother's father. My,” you pause and stick your tongue out and groan. “I can’t even say it—Regardless, I had to and well…he is nice to my mother, which counts for something. I just…” you trail off and exhale deeply.

“You miss your father,” Aemond whispers.

You brush your fingers down Aemond’s long hair and nod slowly. “I do, I miss my father. I know my mother wasn’t truly happy with him, I want her to be happy, but…” you pause and splash more water on Aemond’s hair. Once the stuff is all out he looks back to meet your watery gaze.

“What?” He presses you.

“I wish I knew what happened,” you mutter in a shaky voice. “I know Daemon had a part in it. Am I mad for thinking that?”

Aemond turns around completely and cups the side of your face. “No.” He shakes his head. “No. I would want to know too, especially because your father passed away soon after Daemon's wife died.”

You sigh in relief after hearing him express what you had been thinking too. All this time you’ve been spinning all these thoughts in your mind about the matter like a spider spins its web, trying to connect dots, and driving yourself mad in the meanwhile. You expressed that same theory to Cregan, but he shut you down and said that the story of Ser Qarl matched and that you were only going to make things worse by thinking too much about it. So it’s relieving having someone understand.

“He was so quick to kill Vaemond today,” you share. “I wouldn't put it past him to have…gotten rid of my father too.”

Aemond nods, and you can’t help but smile softly in relief. “So no, I’m not mad?” You double-check.

Aemond shakes his head. “No, my sweet love. No, I believe you. Whatever you plan to do, I will be by your side.”

You don't actually think of exposing Daemon to the masses, maybe just to your brothers to have them team up against him too. You’d even tell your mother too, but that’s about it. You just want the satisfaction of knowing the truth.

“I love you,” you tell him before you wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you…for not thinking I’m mad. I appreciate it.”

Aemond returns your embrace and presses a kiss on your head before he turns you around so you can be lying against him in between his legs.

“I love you,” he says in your ear, letting you grab his hand and press a kiss on his knuckles.

“Now,” you whisper after a moment of silence. “Tell me about your day.”

Aemond exhales deeply and helps you scrub your body with the lilac and honey-scented oils he likes smelling on your skin so much.

“Well,” he whispers. “Nothing much today. I caught up on a book I haven’t finished.”

You hum, but don’t actually leave it at that, you know him and his struggle with Lucerys. You’re not stupid, he may not tell you, and he may hide it well, but you know seeing your brother makes him mad. You can’t hold that against Aemond. It’s normal. He lost his eye after all. The only thing you won’t do is pick sides. You’ll understand both sides but never side with one over the other.

“Look,” you interject and peer over at him. “I doubt Lucerys will stay long. You’ll only have to tolerate him a bit longer. Okay?”

Aemond blinks in disbelief and doesn’t add anything. He’s just actually shocked you knew his struggle without having to actually hear him say it, and that you don’t judge his anger because you love your brother Lucerys.

“We only have to get through supper;” you assure him. “After that, we can go stay at the summer house if they stay longer,” you suggest. “We go on dragonback since Aerion enjoys flying, we can picnic by the waterfalls at sunset, and present Aerion to some horses. We can enjoy our nights stargazing in the grass fields.” You smile sweetly and look back at him. “How does that sound? Just you, Aerion, and me. And of course our dragons, hm?”

“What of you?” He says, making your smile falter. “Don’t you want to spend time with your brothers? Your mother?”

You nod. “Yes,” you agree softly. “But Aerion and I can accompany them back to Dragonstone when they leave. Stay there for a few days and come back home. How does that sound?”

“All right,” he agrees. “It’s not like you’re asking for permission.”

You laugh softly and shake your head. “No.”

You then look ahead again and watch the fire as you lean your head back against Aemond’s chest. “As of now,” you sigh, “we just survive through supper. You tolerate Lucerys, and I tolerate Daemon…it shall be fun.”

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A/N- It’s cute that you don’t think the white worm is actually controlling you. Sweet summer child. So much to learn! If only there was a manipulative and cool witch coming soon to teach you her ways!

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