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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 2 months

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Skyfall

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warning: Death, mention of miscarriage, mention of rape, forced marriage, angst, smut fluff, post-Dance

Summary: Daemon was the only surviving, elder Targaryen to wear the Conquerors Crown. His heir was a broken little boy. Driven by spite, he took the widow of the nephew he had slain as his wife.

A/N: This fic was inspired by this fic game from @ewanmitchellcrumbs

He felt the crash hard. It was unlike falling to the ground. Water was more resistant, and firmer. He wanted to groan, the pain shooting from his back to his whole body. But as soon as he tried to breathe, water was already filling his lungs.

The weight of his heavy armour pulled him down to the ground of the lake. But he resisted as best as he could. His head broke the surface of the lake, coughing, and spluttering as he took deep breaths.

He crawled out of the water with difficulty. His wet jerkin was adding to the weight of his chain mail and dark armour. His body was protesting against every move he made. Crying out for him to give up, to surrender. But he was too stubborn.

Tears of frustration threatened to spill down his cheeks. His hands were muddy and full of cuts from the stones on the shore. Left shoulder, where Aemond’s sword pierced him, burned from the exertion. He could feel the pumping from his heart in the gaping wound.

He gave up in the middle of the cobblestone shore right where the grass line began. He was heaving heavily. He was trying to get enough air into his lungs to breathe, but all his body wanted was to shut down and succumb to the darkness calling him.

The last thing he remembered where men of his army rushing to him. Carrying him to a cart.

He woke up surrounded by maesters and servants. All fussing as he tried to sit up. He was stronger than any of them if it wasn’t for the milk of the poppy the maesters had given him in his unconscious state. His movements were sluggish, his head fuzzy. He roared out for the hands around his body to unhand him. He threatened them to behead them in the name of his wife, Queen Rhaenyra.

The room grew quiet at his mention of Rhaenyra. He looked around, his eyes hardening. “What is the meaning of this?” Everyone in the room averted their eyes. His anger burned brighter with every quiet moment passing by. “Talk!” He boomed.

A maester hesitantly came closer to his side. He bowed deeply. “My p-prince, the Princ-Queen Rhaenyra was killed by the order of King Aegon. She burned in the fires of Sunfyre.” The elderly man became quiet at the end. Everyone in the room waited with bated breath for his reaction. Fearing the worst.

Daemon’s nostrils flared as the words sunk in. The usurper green cunt burned her alive. They had their flaws, but he cared for Rhaenyra deeply. She did not deserve to die like this. “Where is he now?” The servants looked down. The maester, an elderly man with a bald head and dark brown eyes, looked at him with sympathy. He looked like a Great Dane, with his sad dark eyes and the deep wrinkles around his face. “He is dying, my prince.”

Satisfaction spread through his body as he got the news about Aegon dying. “Who else is still alive?”

The maester looked up at him, fixing his posture as he had been bowing the whole time. “The Dowager Queen Alicent, Princesses Jaehaera, your son, Prince Aegon the younger and…” The man trailed off.

Daemon impatiently looked at him. His fingers drummed on the bedding. “Who else?” He growled. “The widow of Prince Aemond, my prince.”

A wide, nearly sadistic grin spread on his lips. Good, he thought. He takes further revenge on his naïve nephew.

The day Daemon was announced King, was the day Aegon the Second died. He took it as the opportunity to announce not only his coronation as king, as he was the only elder male Targaryen left. He also announced his betrothal to the widow of Aemond.

He saw in the corner of his eyes how she stood next to the Dowager Queen. Her eyes cast down as the herald announced the news. The corners of his lips lifted at her reaction. Alicent broke down, another triumph for him, as he knew the Lady had become like a daughter to her.

She stood in her chamber with her maids flittering around her. They had already undressed her out of her heavy wedding gown. Lifting the weight from her shoulder, but not from her chest.

She had heard stories from her late husband about his uncle. He had admired the man. But his arrogance and his ignorance had led to his death. She had mourned him, even though in the end he didn’t deserve her tears.

She had heard of the witch of Harrenhal. How he had bedded her time and time again. Maybe he had been under her spell, maybe he did it out of his free will. But she was with his child, not her, the witch.

She stood in front of the mirror of her room. Seeing the maids working on unbraiding her hair. How she wished they knew how to unbraid the coil in her stomach.

Her hands shook slightly as she touched the fine lace of her night dress. A gift from Daemon. “The lace was made in Myr, my lady.” One of her maids whispered in awe. She only nodded. Her mind was blank. Her soul had gone to a far-off place.

She was led to Daemon’s chamber. Her steps were so stiff she felt like a puppet being moved on strings. Maybe the gods took control of her, leading her to her slaughter. She had been Aemond’s wife, now married to his killer. From one kinslayer married to another. But who had not earned that title in the Dance? No one's hands were untainted with spilt dragon blood. Not even her own hands were clean.

Daemon sat in front of the lit fireplace, a goblet of the finest braavosi wine in his hand. He held the conqueror's crown in his hand. Looking at it with indifference. He was king now. A king with a broken heir. Aegon had seen his mother being burned alive. Being scared for his life.

He had always been a guarded boy. Keeping to himself most of the time when Viserys wasn’t next to him. Viserys, his other son, was taken by the Triarchy. Believed to be dead.

He took a large gulp from his drink. He was staring into the flames with a blank stare. He needed a new heir. Aegon would not be fit to rule. He was too broken, too much grief and darkness surrounded him. He would break under the weight of the heavy crown.

He pursed his lips and chuckled humourlessly. Would he break too? He had lost much too. Laena and their son, his brother, Rhaenyra, their younger son Viserys, their daughter, his dragon, his trusted life companion he had fought in plenty of wars with. Caraxes was nowhere to be seen. His guards searched far and wide for any signs of his beloved dragon. But until now, he was believed dead.

His chamber door opened and a maid of his new wife stepped in, announcing her presence. He did not turn as she entered. Did not acknowledge her. It seemed she did not do the same. Maybe she was scared of him? He fought with amusement.

He heard her move before he saw her stand next to him. She was dressed in a thin robe covering her shoulders. It was opened, probably a maid’s work. She looked like she wanted to close it again.

"Should I lay on my back, lord husband?” She whispered so softly. He looked up at her, seeing the hidden fear in her glassy eyes. “No.” He spoke softly. A softness he hadn’t felt in a long time. “You are not willing to lay with me.”

Her eyes widened at his words. He chuckled and drank the rest of his wine before putting his cup and crown on the table with the jug of wine. “Did the Dowager Queen tell you I would take you without your consent? I think she has lived too long with her rapist of a son and sadly, my brother too. I am not too obsessed with having sons like he was. I have a living son, even if I see him as unfit. I also have two daughters from my dear Laena. If one of them marries and has a son, he will inherit my throne.”

He stood up and looked at her for the first time. She was beautiful, he had to admit that. He was not blind. “I think you would appreciate it if you were to be left alone. You do not only mourn Aemond, do you?” Her body stiffened. “How…?” He smiled softly. “I have my little birds everywhere. They told me about your … misfortune. No woman should ever feel that kind of pain.”

She bit her lip and looked down at the stone floor. Her arms wrapped unconsciously around her empty womb. A few months ago she had felt the flutter of life there, but the gods were cruel to her.

“I could order my men to hunt her down and kill her,” Daemon murmured. His lady wife looked up with shock. “Do not kill Alicent! Jaehaera needs her!” Daemon shook his head. “Not that green snake. I mean the witch. Aemond’s mistress who is with his child. I could let her be killed if you want.”

She stared at him with wide eyes before she shook her head. “No, let her be.” “Even if she was the one who caused you to lose your child.” She took in a sharp breath. Her answer was still no. Even if the rumours were true, she didn’t want more blood on her hands.

Daemon nodded, walking past her to the open balcony doors. He heard music and the cheering of the smallfolk. “Why did you marry me? I am not of Valyrian decent.” Daemon grinned softly. “You are not, little dove. I married you to spite your late husband. I want him to look from beyond and see you filled with my child. Caring for my children. I want him to see what he has neglected.”

He turned to her, seeing her wide eyes. “Only if you want. I will not force you. I am not my brother and certainly not my nephew. If you want, I can give you a child.” They stared at each other. The room is quiet.

It had been a year since that fateful night. The realm slowly regained strength under Daemon. No one thought he could become a good king. But he listened to his small council and had competent and trusted advisors. One was his lady wife. She was beautiful but had a sharp tongue that matched Daemon’s wit.

He looked down at her as she writhed on top of the wooden table of the small council as he drove his member over and over into her warmth. Her mewls and moans floated through the empty room. Only the noises of their sticky skin slapping and her moans filled the room.

His stones slapped against her buttocks as he leaned over her. Holding both her wrists over her head. “Who is fucking you this good, little dove.” He looked into her pleasure-filled face. Seeing her struggle to keep her eyes open. “You… Daemon!”

He clicked his tongue and slapped her thigh harshly. “Wrong answer, dōna ābrazȳrys. Who is making you feel this good?” (Sweet wife)

Her soft lips opened and closed like a fish out of the water until her soft, pleasure-filled voice gasped. “You, my king. Ñuha dārys!“ Daemon smirked at her words. “Good, you are learning, little dove.” (My King)

He drove himself over and over into her tight warmth. “Will you give me another one? Another little girl.” She nodded softly. “Kessa, ñuha dārys!” (Yes, my king!) Daemon chuckled softly at her words.

His pace slowed down as he felt his end approaching. His thrust became hard, pushing into her with force. Her gasps grew louder with every push. “Such a good, little wife. Taking her king's cock. Ñuha sȳz dāria!” (My good queen) He groaned out loudly. Filling her with his warm seed.

Her body began to tremble as she approached completion. Her body tensed until it went limp under him.

He looked down at her. Her chest heaving. The sun rays streaming from the window made her sweat-covered skin glisten. He was far from a religious man, but to him, she looked like the personification of the maiden. So innocent and vulnerable. If he weren’t so possessive he would commission a painting of her in her post-orgasmic state.

He leaned down, kissing her softly before helping her sit up. He was still inside her, his softening member keeping his semen inside of her. His arms were tightly wrapped around her. “I heard you had coaxed Aegon out of his room and walked around the garden.” He smiled softly at him.

His wife smiled at him. “We talked. I wanted him to know I would never replace his mother. Then we talked about his studies. He is a smart boy.” She grinned up at him. Daemon chuckled. “Good. He told me he feels safe with you.”

His wife looked down, playing with the embroidered dragon on his doublet, heat spreading across her face. “I feel honoured.” She mumbled.

Their bubble was broken by hurried steps coming closer to the small council chamber. Both turned as a knight entered the chamber. “My king, my queen.” He bowed deeply. “There is a boy at the gates claiming to be your son, my king.”

Daemon looked up from his wife to the knight. “Go.” His wife whispered. She pushed him softly from her. He hissed at the loss of her warmth. Whining slightly as she closed his breeches with nimble fingers.

With a fast pace, he rushed into the courtyard, seeing Viserys riding into the gates. He had grown since the last time he saw him.

Daemon was at the horse's side, pulling his son down from the animal. He held him to his chest. Viserys wrapped himself around his father. Both Targaryens couldn’t hold their tears back.

Another body crashed into Daemon’s side. Aegon sobbed loudly as he wrapped his hand around his father and little brother.

With tears in his eyes, he looked at the steps, seeing his wife standing with their daughter in her arms. A gentle smile on her lips. He nodded at her, thanking her for bringing Aegon down from his room.

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aemondtargaryenonlyfans · 6 months

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PRAY FOR ME.

Dark!Prince Regent!Aemond x niece!Reader

Trying to persuade you to declare yourself for their side in the war of succession, Aemond relies on different methods to make your façade crumble.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; DUB-CON, p in v, dry humping, petting, breeding, power imbalance, praise kink, humiliating, degrading, canon typical incest/targcest, no mention of reader’s appearance, Dark!Prince Regent Aemond is a warning himself

WORDS: 5.3 K

NOTES: The title is inspired by Kendrik Lamar‘s song, as it’s about loss, loyalty, sacrifice and redemption. Something reader struggles with in this. This is also dedicated to and written for @black-dread. I‘ll spoil you rotten for as long as I’m on this app. ILU.

You had lost track of how long you had been forced to stay isolated in your chambers. It could have been days, but it also could have been many moons by now.

The only company you got were the serving girls coming three times a day to serve you food and something to drink, and bring you water for a bath – everything else was left for you to do on your own.

It was a cold comfort that you got to spend your days in the chambers you had occupied during your childhood, but still better than to be stuck in one of the cells or the dark dungeons.

Apart from the Dowager Queen visiting you a few times in the early days, trying to persuade you to side with them in the upcoming war of succession, you hadn’t heard from anybody else. You did not even know what progress your mother’s side had made over the time you had been locked away, and what precipitations they had to suffer.

Deep down you knew Alicent was only after your dragon to gain support, because, with not more than three adult dragons, they clearly were outnumbered. But that knowledge, however, didn’t stop the doubts about your mother from rising.

You had not expected to be saved by them, but you had firmly believed to receive at least one letter by raven in secret – yet not one had come.

There were enough people loyal to your father, mother or both of them in the Red Keep, and the chances of one raven reaching you were not too far-fetched.

It was your deceased grandsire that had stated back then that the crown could not stand strong if the House of the Dragon remained divided, and now it was tearing itself down.

The tension truly had simmered at the last supper you shared with all of them — if it hadn’t been for your uncle to raise a toast to your strong half-brothers, forcing them and your parents to depart for Dragonstone in the midst of the night.

You had stayed behind, wanting to make up for the time you had lost with your grandsire ever since your family had relocated.

What proved to be a terrible mistake.

In the following morning, you had awoken to a commotion outside of your chamber’s doors, only to find it locked and with no way for you to escape.

You hardly learned what had been going on when three maids scurried into your chambers no less than six hours later, bathing you and dressing you for an important occasion, yet not telling you what it was.

A queasy feeling had weighed you down back then, which was confirmed by Alicent coming into your chambers right after to briefly inform you of Viserys’ passing and their plans to put Aegon on the throne, forcing you to attend the coronation.

She had assured your safety — for as long as you would declare yourself for Aegon.

For a fortnight she had blessed you with her presence, after you had witnessed the coronation and the frightening exit of Rhaenys and Meleys. She had inquired about your well-being after, but not without asking if and how you had chosen.

You had stated that you would never dare declare yourself for your mother’s usurper, and the will to keep your word was strong at the very beginning, until it wasn‘t anymore, the choice fickle and marked by your doubts. By your loneliness.

Suddenly, Alicent had stopped visiting you. You assumed she was done hearing you reject her offer, and even though you loathed her, it had been nice to have someone to talk to – even if it was forced and merely for her own benefit.

Most of your days you sat in silence, waiting for the moment someone would open the door to bring you to the place where they would take your head and end your life.

But at the same time you knew that it made more sense for them to keep you alive and locked up, minimizing the chances of having you fight against their forces or even risking another enemy to claim Vermithor.

Darkness had overtaken King’s Landing some time ago when the rustling of metal caught your attention, a deep voice booming behind the locked doors. Never before in your life had you shut a book so quickly, almost throwing it aside in plain fear.

The dark mop of Criston Cole’s hair was the first thing you saw, and your instincts forced you to bring as much space as possible between you and him.

Despite your father being none other than the Rogue Prince himself, having learned it by accident after eavesdropping on a conversation you should not have heard, you lacked his fighting experience and hadn’t been trained with the sword. All efforts to get away from the man they dubbed the Kingmaker therefore were fruitless.

It might have been the mistrust caused by Rhaenys‘ escape, highly doubting your refusal to come with him was intimidating enough, but a thick ribbon was tied around your wrists to keep you bound and secured as he guided you out of your chambers.

It was clear it was a volatile decision, assuming he had taken the ribbon from one of the maids' clothing, but you were glad he had not put you in shackles.

“His Grace wishes to speak to you,“ another guard accompanying you two barked after an endless amount of pestering, annoyed that you only wanted to learn if it was the fateful night the Stranger would take you.

The path they led you along was not unfamiliar, and when the heavy doors to the Throne Room opened, you were roughly shoved into the darkness, barely illuminated by the light a few torches and candles granted.

At the far end of the room on the massive throne sat who you assumed was your uncle Aegon, the Conqueror's crown atop his silver mane and shimmering in the light.

His presence felt heavy, overwhelming even, and forced your eyes to dart to the ground, watching every step as Criston all but pushed you towards the seat that was destined for your mother.

Preparing to meet your fate, the color drained from your face as you spotted the wrong uncle sitting on the throne, looking exactly like he had the last time you two were in the same room.

It was the evening before the Stranger had taken your grandsire, the only difference was the crown forged for none other than Aegon the First sitting on his head.

The Iron Throne loomed large behind his lithe frame, looking every bit as intimidating as Aemond in his all black attire, clad in leather from his boots up to the eyepatch, and a dagger strapped to his waist.

His one good eye studied you carefully, almost curiously, remaining on you even as Aemond rose from the throne, stepping down to approach you. With the intensity of his gaze, you felt almost bare in the black nightgown you wore, though the high neckline and long skirt didn’t give anything of your modesty away.

“Leave us,” Aemond’s voice eventually pierced through, the words said in a tone void of any emotion.

You heard Criston‘s armor clink behind you. “But, Your Grace, I–”

“Rest assured I can handle her,” Aemond interrupted.

And then the man behind you left the room at once, leaving only you and your uncle. It was eerily quiet, quite different from the Throne Room you knew back as your grandsire occupied the large seat.

You gazed down at the ribbon still tied around your wrists, tugging at it once to distract yourself from the steely gaze of Aemond burning through your skin, unsettling you.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” he asked in the same cold tone, sizing you up.

When your head tilted up again, meeting his eye, you spotted it darting towards your neck, causing your skin to heat up. Briefly looking to the side, you shrugged your shoulders. “To get rid of me, I assume,” you replied, trying hard to suppress the shaking in your voice.

A low ‘hm’ rumbled in his chest, and you spotted his lilac eye moving from yours downwards to your neck again. Something must have caught his attention, causing him to smirk as if he had seen a particularly fine artwork.

When he reached to slightly tug the neckline of your nightgown down, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your eyes widened – intrigued or afraid, you weren’t quite certain.

The pendant of your necklace was pinched between his fingers, and you glanced down to spot his thumb dragging over the small sapphire in the center of it.

It was the Valyrian steel necklace he had gifted you to your name day, acquired on one of his rare journeys onto the streets of King‘s Landing long before he had lost his eye.

“You were meant to be mine, you know?” His voice remained mostly unemotional, yet a lilt of affection became evident in his tone for a second, the corners of his lips quirking up. It appeared as if he had thought back to the times you two had spent together at court, without a care and without the burdens of the crown on your shoulders.

The frown on your face encouraged him to carry on, a smirk still adorning his lips. “Do you remember when we practiced dancing when we were ten-and-one?” Oh, how you remembered. Aegon had always been a drunken fool, stepping on your feet and pushing you around out of the rhythm of the music, while Aemond had been nothing less than gentle and careful with you, laughing whenever you or he stepped onto each other's toes.

“I never thought someone could have such delicate feet, such–”

“Why am I here, Aemond?” you pressed, not wanting to dwell on the fond memories you had shared even longer with your heart rate rising with every word.

His smirk faltered for a split second, the eye that wasn’t concealed by black leather widening. One of his hands found the small of your back, and he used the grip to pull you towards him. “I could treat you right,” he said, his voice growing softer.

It was evident he knew how he made you feel. He knew you had admired him back then, you had confessed it before your family left for Dragonstone, and he just assumed you still did. You had admired his boldness and courage, his wit — and nothing had changed.

But it also felt as if he merely intended to persuade you for the same reasons his mother had tried to do, the fluttering emotions flattening out as quickly as they had soared through your body.

You took a step back in an attempt to create some space between you. Aemond didn’t hold onto you, he didn’t stop you, but his hand stayed in the air as if he meant to reach for you again. But he didn’t.

“I know, and I can‘t…,“ you said. I want to, but I can‘t betray my own mother, my own blood, was what you thought. “No.“

The lingering feelings of loneliness and abandonment had you wanting to give in. You wanted to give in to him more than anything. It was what you had desired for so, so long. But you had to remain strong, even though you were left to fend all by yourself, for none of your family had come to save you.

“No, I won’t declare myself for Aegon,“ you said, looking him straight in the eye. You tried to keep your voice cold, though it was clear that something inside of you tried to crawl to the surface.

An arrogant smile etched onto his features at your words. He could see your resistance weaken, spot your eyes flickering between his good one and his lips. Your attraction was not as hidden to him as you would have liked it to be.

“Your fears are unfounded, little niece.“ He caressed your cheek with a gentle touch, while mischief flickered in the lilac of his eye, juxtaposing his actions. “Let me show you just how well I could treat you. Let me show you that you matter… to me.“

Your fears were not unfounded. Not in the prospect of committing treason should your mother ever ascend the throne. But it was his gentle touch that made you weak, though you tried to hold onto the last threads of your resolve, trying your best to remain loyal to the side of the family that had obviously long abandoned you to rot in the viper’s nest.

“No,” you muttered softly in response, looking away once more. I must not, for I shall regret this, you thought. The fear to betray your mother by giving in to him was too big, but in the end it was far outweighed by your lust for him.

It was as if Aemond could spot the exact moment in which your resistance started to crumble, because in a swift movement, he had his hand right where it had rested on your waist before, and used the grip to turn you around, forcing your back flush against his chest.

The gasp you released was loud, but nothing compared to the way your heartbeat pounded in your ears as his other hand clasped around your throat, your tied hands immediately coming up to seize his wrist.

He had heard one no too much, his patience running thin. “I’ll show you that you belong to me,” he rasped into your ear, a shiver running down your spine that settled at the apex of your legs.

Squeezing your throat once, Aemond urged you forwards, shoving you towards one of the big column statues of the Throne Room.

Without tilting your head up, it wasn’t as if you had the chance to do so with your cheek pressed against the cold stone, you knew it was Aenys the First looking down at you two. And if he would've known what was going to take place right under the keepsake dedicated to his memory, he would’ve ordered his dragon to burn the keep to ashes at once.

Aemond’s weight pressed you against the column, your hands pinned over your head by one of his large ones. With his lips close to your ear, hot and heavy breath fanning over your flushed skin, you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the trap you found yourself in.

“I’ll show you what you are,” he said. You firmly believed for him to make a jab at you, similar to what he had said at supper, but it didn’t come. Instead, his lips landed on your neck, not lingering long enough to press more than one chaste kiss to your skin before he pulled back to speak again, “mine.”

You weren’t quite sure whether you wanted to leave or not – for your mind had gone blank. The possessiveness laced within his cold voice, the burning where his lips had pressed a kiss to your neck, and his hands on your body were the only things on your mind.

The nightgown you wore was thin enough for you to feel even the faintest of his touches, fingertips roaming over the curve of your waist down to your arse, driving you to insanity.

Mewling and squirming in his grasp like a trapped kitten, the husky chuckle behind you gave away that he was more than enjoying this. You were giving in, your resolve crumbling, and he knew you were enjoying it just as much as him.

“There, is that my sweet, little niece I missed from court?” he whispered softly, while his hand fisted the skirts of your nightgown, lifting it enough to allow his hand to snake underneath. Goosebumps prickled on your skin, much more at the sudden realization of just how close he was.

His fingers mindlessly ghosted over the linen of your smallclothes, the outside of your thigh, but never coming close enough to where you wanted him most.

“Did you miss me, princess?” There was a sense of affection weaving itself through his cold tone, only for him to emphasize your title in such a condescending manner, it had your heart beating wildly in your chest.

When there didn’t come an answer, he connected his palm with your arse in a way that had your whole body jerking, your thighs trying to squeeze together to diminish the aching. But Aemond had his foot firmly planted between yours, his knee positioned high enough to make any movements impossible.

“I asked you a question,” the prince behind you snarled, the grip of his hand on your wrists bruising, feeling as if he meant to crush your bones. “Did you miss me?”

“Y-yes,” your voice was low, almost shy, “yes, Aemond, I missed you.”

A satisfied hum rumbled in his chest, and, trying to catch a glimpse of him from over your shoulder, you spotted his characteristic smirk on his lips, seeming even more devilish with the red rubies of the Conqueror's Crown shimmering in the dim light.

His fingers traced over the contours of your thigh before they dragged over your clothed cunt more firmly, and you choked on a moan, trying your best to stifle the sound in case anyone were to barge into the Throne Room.

But seeing how much your body ached for him, how badly you wanted him, Aemond didn’t care whether you were too loud or not.

He just enjoyed having you at his mercy, unable to really see him or get away from him. You were completely depending on him and whatever he wanted to do to and with you.

Aemond pressed his clothed member against your lower back, letting you feel its hardness and making his desire for you clear.

You were unable to escape him, but you didn’t even want to for the heat emanating from him drove you insane, not able to contain your desire and passion any longer. Your smallclothes were clinging to your soaked womanhood, and the aching you felt between your legs started to become uncomfortable.

When his head tipped towards yours, your eyes searched for his, wanting to lock gazes and beg for him to finally free you from his torments. But his good eye didn’t meet yours.

The pressure on your wrists released with his arm snaking around your waist, holding you tightly in place while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“Four moons did I have to walk these halls with the knowledge of you waiting for me behind one of these doors,” he gruffed into your ear. “Do you know how badly I have longed for this moment to happen? How long I had to wait to finally be able to claim you as mine? There will be no one else desiring to have you once I am done with you.”

You didn’t answer him for your voice was gone as you panted for air. Your body was shaking, wanting him oh so desperately.

“All you have to do is to swear to me, niece,” he said, his lips moving along your neck, nibbling and licking over your skin. It should have concerned you. It should have felt like a knife to your heart. And your body felt as if it was on fire, but it was ignited by his lips and fingers working the most sensitive spots on your body, not by his words. “Just give me your word, and you will be mine.”

That was the moment his true intentions showed, juxtaposed by his lingering touches and the desire in his voice.

His caresses had pushed you to your limits. You were drunk on him, drunk on his warmth, his scent and the dominance he displayed over you. “I swear, I-I swear,” you stammered, “All of it, I pledge myself to you, Aemond.”

Aemond had you, and there was no way to refuse him now, no way to stop him. You were giving into his touches, his words, his presence. You were his.

As you arched your back against his frame, he was caught off guard and took a step back, inhaling a sharp breath at the friction your arse created against his stiff member. You seized the opportunity and spun on your heels, staring at Aemond with wide, lust blown eyes.

He was on you in a matter of seconds, backing you firmly up against the column again. But this time, his mouth was on yours, kissing you with a burning need. Slipping past your lips, his tongue moved to explore your mouth, sliding back and forth along yours.

You whimpered into the kiss, the heat of desire weakening your knees. Aemond pressed himself against you, his body molding around yours as his hands traveled over your sides, consuming you entirely.

With his hands trailing down to your thighs, he hoisted you up and wrapped them around his waist, supporting your weight as he slowly walked towards the Iron Throne. It seemed as if he knew the path by heart, your lips not parting once for him to watch his step.

Sitting down on the throne, you sat astride him, hunched over and gazing down at him, while his half-lidded eye studied you carefully. It darted down to your bound wrists, and his nimble fingers were quick to reach for his dagger and slice through the fabric.

You massaged the reddened flesh with a soft hiss, though you were not sure it was prompted by the ministrations of your own hands or Aemond’s harshly digging into your hips. You closed your eyes, frighteningly aware of the dagger pinched between his digits, and tried to squirm away from his grasp with a jerk, dragging your clothed cunt over the protruding bulge in the front of his breeches.

A blush covered your cheeks as it dawned on you what you had done, more so as you heard him draw in a sharp breath, and you sheepishly folded your hands in front of you, looking down at them.

Raising an eyebrow, Aemond leaned back against the throne, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Your lack of self-control humors me,” he said, his voice mocking and full of judgment. You swallowed thickly, heat blossoming in your belly. “I only let you have a little bit of me, but you seem so desperate to have me fully.”

With his hands still on your hips, he started to guide them back and forth, dragging your cunt over his hard cock. His head tipped back slightly, and the bump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed each time you rutted against his member.

The coil in your belly tightened slowly, and encouraged you enough to grind your hips against him all by yourself, your breathy whimpers growing in volume.

“All it took for you to give in was my cock, mh?” he groaned, one hand entangling in your hair to bring your face level with his, “and I have yet to stuff it inside.”

A breathy whimper was all you managed to release at his words, your lips agape with shaky breaths escaping them. The movements of your hips didn’t stop once, chasing the pleasure that built inside of you.

Half-lidded eyes fixed with his good one, and, even in the dim light, you could see that the lilac hue of it was almost eclipsed by black.

“Pray tell, how badly do you want my cock, niece?” he asked, a lilt of mockery in the baritone of his voice. But you could not form a coherent thought. The profanity of his words, and the way his hardness pressed so firmly against your aching cunt robbed you of your ability to think.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” he warned, fingers digging into your flesh to halt your movements, and causing the pleasure to dissolve just as quickly as it came.

Pouting at the loss of friction, you were forced to find your voice again. “So, so badly,” you whined, sounding more desperate than intended. “Give-Give it to me… please.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, eagerly anticipating his next move, though there was disappointment igniting inside of you as Aemond merely tsked at your words. “My my, look at you. You came here convinced the Stranger would take you in your mother’s name, and now you are begging for my cock, begging me to finally put an end to your suffering. Who would have thought that my cock would turn you into a traitor?”

You would have felt ashamed and guilty you gave in to him, to the enemy, but the only thing on your mind right now was the longing to be filled and consumed by him. If there was a traitor, it was your mother for not once inquiring about you or saving you from your misery.

Caressing your cheek in an unusually tender manner, you all but melted into his touch. “But how could I ever say no to my sweet, little niece? You have been such a good girl, let me give you what you desire.”

Aemond bundled the skirt of your nightgown in one hand, revealing your undergarments to him. In a careful movement, he dragged the sharp tip of the dagger from the curve of your waist down your side, hooking it beneath the waistband to easily slice through the linen.

As he pushed it to the side, his eye fixed your exposed womanhood like a man starved, ready to feast on you at any given moment. It was amusing to watch him recklessly throw the dagger aside and fumble with the laces of his breeches, a stark contrast to the stern and cold demeanor he had kept before.

Grasping hold of your hips firmly, he lifted them slightly before he aligned the tip of his cock with your cunt. “Let us see how well you can take me.“

He pressed his cock against your tight entrance, feeling the resistance as he prepared to ease into you. One hand moved to cup your arse, supporting you, and allowing you to lower yourself on him. And, with a swift buck of his hips, a seemingly impatient Aemond met yours halfway, filling you completely at once.

Your face contorted in pleasure at the sensation, the burning of the stretch quickly melting into a feeling of plain bliss. “Gods,” you whimpered, clenching tightly around him.

With slow grinds, you started to adjust to his size, growing bolder and bolder with each swivel of your hips over his.

“Feels so–”

“Good, I know,” he finished your sentence, the words accompanied by a raspy groan. His head tipped back against the throne, his hands mindlessly tracing over your sides as he groaned a ‘you feel so fucking good’ that had you biting your bottom lip, keening at the praise.

Every now and then, Aemond bucked his hips up into yours, the intensity forcing you to topple forwards, causing you to plant your hands firmly on his shoulders. His cock was bullying the sweet spot inside of you that made you see stars, causing your fingers to dig into his shoulders.

One of his hands settled at your breast, groping it through the thin fabric of your shift. His fingers pinched and teased your hardened bud, and with the added pleasure, your moans grew more wanton.

“Shit, you’re taking me so well,” he rambled, seemingly cunt struck by the way your walls clenched and released around him every time you sank down his hard member. “You may be a princess, but I shall make you my Queen. You belong to me.” Though his voice was still gruff, it had gained an added layer of intimacy, reflecting in the way he looked up at you.

Your heart hammered in your chest at the sight and his words, and the pace of your hips faltered as he brought his hand up to grab a hold of the Conqueror's Crown, taking it off his head to place it on top of yours.

“It looks better on you than it ever did on him,“ he panted, his voice genuine as he stared up at you in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

You moved a hand upwards to hold the crown steady, afraid it would fall to the ground with the impact of your hips colliding with his. Your body moved on its own accord, hips grinding down on him, riding him as you chased your pleasure.

You moaned softly, “By the Seven, Aemond, so good.“

Spurred on by the sight of you wearing the crown and fucking yourself stupid on his cock, he firmly planted his feet on the ground to piston his hips up into yours, meeting you halfway.

The sound of skin slapping on skin was not really audible with him barely pushing his breeches down enough to free his hard cock, the hem of his tunic sitting low enough to cover most of his lower stomach. But there was no need for it, for your heavy pants, grunts and moans were loud enough to echo off the walls of the empty Throne Room.

Aemond’s thumb started to drag over the little bud at the apex of your legs, sending a bolt of pleasure up your spine, causing the knot in your belly to tighten rapidly. Your breath quickened, and your walls clenched around him so tightly, you were not sure if they even unclenched once.

“I shall fill you up, put a child in you,” he grunted, gaze fixed on where you both were connected, watching himself repeatedly disappear inside of your tight cunt. “Do you want that?” His tone made it clear that it was not a question, but you still whimpered several yesses in return, merging into a loud cry of his name as your peak washed over you.

He drove his hips up into yours, fucking you through your high despite your body crouching forwards and your hips stilling, merely clinging to him for dear life as the pleasure soared through your body, coursing through your veins like liquid fire.

“And when you’re with my child, you will not be able to get away from me,” he rambled, inhaling sharply as he felt his stones tighten, nearing his own peak. “You are-,“ he hissed in between, “You are all mine.”

You were trembling astride him, barely registering his words and whining when you felt how your peak’s contractions were practically forcing the spend out of your uncle‘s cock, milking him for every drop of his seed.

There was silence between you, safe for your heavy breathing, as if you both waited for the other’s voice to cut through it.

The realization of the repercussions your actions and words would bring settled a few moments later, when the haze of your peak cleared, and you spotted Aemond looking up at you with a smug smirk on his lips.

“The crown on your head is a promise of the fact that I will make you my Queen,” he purred, a cold edge to his voice. Aemond licked his lips, and grazed his hands over your hips, squeezing your flesh. “I have claimed you, and I will make use of you however and whenever I see fit.”

As he spoke, you slowly realized what he meant and felt yourself growing warm inside all over again, clenching around his flaccid member. It felt exhilarating to know that he would not hesitate to take full advantage of you, and there was excitement filling your body. But most importantly, it felt as if you finally found a place where you belonged, where you were wanted and seen.

“That is how it is going to be,” you whispered, nodding once to emphasize your words. “I-I am all yours.”

Aemond leaned forwards and rested his forehead against yours, releasing a deep sigh before his smooth voice interrupted the short moment of intimacy and proximity.

“With you now sworn to me, I believe ‘tis time to bring you back in the fold. There is much that has happened since you last were at court.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @nockerin @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @goldyfishsstuff @connorsui @melinskis

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eraenaa · 28 days

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Masterlist

Helloooo! I'm Eraena, a college student who loves to write! Here's the masterlist of my works! (Aemond Targaryen, Feyd Rautha, Rafe Cameron, and Aegon Targaryen)

Cheat Sheet:

🏙️ - Modern AU

🐉 - A Song of Ice and Fire AU

🏛️ - Greek Mythology AU

🤍 - Personal Fave

👑 - Popular

U.N.I. Aemond Targaryen X Reader 🏙️ Synopsis: Where one of the sons of your mother’s estranged best friend attends the same university as you, and did I mention you were the reason why he lost his eye?

From The Underworld and Beneath Aemond Targaryen x Reader 🏛️ 🤍 Synopsis: You, the Goddess of Spring, were captured by the King of the Underworld, who was intent on keeping you there.

My Knight in Darkened Armor Knight Aemond Targaryen x Princess Reader 🐉 🤍 Synopsis: Ser Aemond Targaryen has been tasked to be the sworn protector of a princess who is overly curious about life beyond the castle walls and has bribed him to escort her to the city in exchange for anything he desires. She just did not know that what he desired was her.

A Bastard's Bride, A Dragon's Desire Aemond Targaryen x Princess Reader 🐉 Synopsis: They have betrothed you to Jacaerys as a way of securing a line to the throne if they fail in usurping your half-sister’s crown. Your older brother Aemond was livid at the decision.

Flipped Aemond Targaryen X Reader 🏙️ 🤍 Synopsis: You had been infatuated with Aemond since you two were children. You could not remember a day when you did not feel anything but adoration for him— not until recently. When something in you turned indifferent, it did not go unnoticed by Aemond, who had never been a fan of change.

Stereotypical Aemond, Son of Ares x Reader, Daughter of Aphrodite 🏛️ Synopsis: The daughter of Aphrodite falls for one of the sons of Ares— the second coming of their parents.

One More Night Aemond Targaryen X Reader 🏙️ Synopsis: You were quick to leave after a one night stand, leaving Aemond dissatisfied, for he wanted so much more. When he found you again, he was sure to never let you go.

The Prince and the Poet Aemond Targaryen X Lannister Reader 🐉 Synopsis: It is established that Prince Aemond hates poems and sonnets; it was just a pity that you adored them.

Jealousy, Jealousy Aemond, Son of Ares x Reader, Daughter of Aphrodite 🏛️ Synopsis: It’s frustratingly hard to keep admirers and doubts away when you and your partner are the most attractive and powerful Demi-Gods in camp.

Most Ardently Aemond Targaryen X Tyrell Reader 🐉 Synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen had accompanied his younger brother to Highgarden in hopes of securing Daeron a wife— he did not expect he would want to secure a wife for himself as well.

The Prince's Prize Aemond Targaryen X Riverlady Reader 🐉 Synopsis: After his victories in the Riverlands, Prince Aemond Targaryen sought for a trophy— his spoils of war. He sought for you, the daughter of the lord who hosted him whilst he wagged his war.

But Daddy, I Love Him Aemond Targaryen X Niece Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: When the favored daughter of Daemon Targaryen falls for the favored son of Alicent Hightower, the Rogue Prince does everything he can to ensure that a union between the two of you will never happen.

Gold Rush Aemond Targaryen X Lannister Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: Everybody wants you, and I don’t like a gold rush.

Desperate Requirement Slytherin Aemond Targaryen x Reader 🏙️ Synopsis: It’s hard being horny at Hogwarts. Luckily, you and Aemond always found a way to relieve your needs.

Mine Aemond Targaryen x Wife Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: You are the best thing that has ever been Aemond’s, which is why you cannot really blame him for being so possessive and cautious not to lose you.

Loathe to Love Aemond Targaryen x Strong Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: Seeking forgiveness is not a thing Aemond bothers himself with, but that quickly changes when he deeply offended you.

King of My Heart King Aemond Targaryen x Queen Reader 🐉 Synopsis: Marriage, miscarriage, and the monarchy… how would you and your husband fare to them all?

Bound By Blood Aemond Targaryen x Princess Reader 🐉 🤍 👑 Synopsis: They can no longer hinder Aemond from taking whatever he wants, and you are the only one he desperately wants.

Tea Party Aemond Targaryen x Stark Reader 🌃 Synopsis: Aemond convinces you to let Helaena join your group’s exclusive tea party, using any means necessary just for you to agree.

Please Please Please Aemond Targaryen X Lannister Reader 🌃Synopsis: Heartbreak is one thing; my ego’s another. I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker.

Unexpected Affections Aemond Targaryen X Tyrell Reader 🐉 👑 Synopsis: With just a smile, you had managed to bewitch and enthrall the stoic and cold prince.

Birthday Present Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader 🤍 👑 Synopsis: During a state visit, you, a daughter of one of the great houses, have captured the attention and fatal attraction of the Na-Baron and were quickly turned into his promised wife.

Bittersweet Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader 👑 Synopsis: As the Na-Baron's proposed bride, you were simply too sweet for him and his bitter being. You were too innocent and pure to be tainted by the blood-stained hands of the Harkonnen heir.

Casual Rafe Cameron x Reader Synopsis: You would settle for causality as long as you had Rafe by your side.

Still Casual? Rafe Cameron x Reader Synopsis: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) Rafe Cameron x Reader 👑 Synopsis: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

Imgonnagetyouback Rafe Cameron x Reader 🤍 Synopsis: The plan is clear. Get Rafe back after your breakup.

So High School Rafe Cameron x Reader 🤍 Synopsis: He knows how to ball, you know Aristotle

Trouble Maker, Stress Reliever Aegon Targaryen X Reader 🏙️ Synopsis: You’re a prefect tasked with taming Aegon’s unruly behavior. Strained by your task, he offers you a way to relieve the stress he caused.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon smut #team green #house of the dragon #hotd smut #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #dune fanfiction #dune smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #obx fanfiction

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shortnotsweet · 5 months

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[ “REMEMBER WHEN” ]:

I CAN STILL SEE YOU AT THE PLACE OUT THERE WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES. DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN WE FELT LIKE THE ONLY TWO ALIVE? DON’T LET ME BE ONE OF THE PEOPLE WHO SEEKS A LOST ROMANCE. WOULD YOU GO AND DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN GIVEN THE CHANCE?

— WALLOWS, NOTHING HAPPENS (2019)

Laena had known Rhaenyra since the two were only girls. They were the closest of friends—closer, even—under the watchful eyes of the castle and the upturned nose of the queen. Queen Alicent had a lovely face befitting for a lady and a brittle, jealous demeanor appropriate for a wicked stepmother. As much as Rhaenyra was drawn to her, she equally sought reprieve. Laena hardly worried, however, as Rhaenyra had the men, steel, and fortitude to rescue herself. It was only a matter of time.

In this AU, Rhaenyra’s older stepmother, Alicent, remains a contrary source of vitriol, intrigue, and affection. Her fixation on her stepdaughter evolves, until her envy is not only of her, but those who love her and are loved in return. Laena is clearly one of those people, and has earned the favor of the nobility in her own right. She wears gowns of silver, blue, and gold, and will become one of the most revered dragon riders of their generation. What else can she inspire but awe and envy? To Rhaenyra, it seems that tenderness is there, and maybe relief. Fondness is the word. It leaves a bad, coppery taste in Alicent’s mouth. Alicent doesn’t have hardly anyone to be fond of in this wretched place. Her children, perhaps, however many she’ll have. Or her husband, her father, or noble, dejected Criston Cole. And—well. No. It’s out of the question. Still. What compares to the camaraderie of shared girlhood? Like knows like, a dragon and dragon sharing the sky.

Laena is Rhaenyra’s first love and closest friend, and the two toe an ambiguous line between platonic and romantic. While they may never wed, their affinity towards one another is an open secret and there is an implicit understanding between families that should Rhaenyra be forced to wed Laena’s brother, arrangements will be made. It is, after all, hardly the first time such agreements have been enacted. Alicent is disgusted, of course; marriage between and man and woman should stay that way. She’s seen the wandering eyes and shared smiles, and something low in her gut twists in revulsion, and for some reason, hurt. Why are they free to do what they want and with whomever they please? No one is free here, not even the blood of the dragon.

Laena and Rhaenyra are both young women, not quite adults yet. In this imaginary timeline, Rhaenyra enjoys a relatively smooth few years before she is forced to take up a sword against traitors and defend her own right to the throne. Despite their complicated history, Alicent’s role in a usurpation attempt on Rhaenyra’s crown has been discovered. Laena reassures her not only of her own conviction and loyalty, but reminds her of the gossip and hurt Alicent has inflicted in the past, rooted in her own resent.

#laenyra #rhaenicent #rhaenyra targaryen #laena velaryon #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #rhaenyra x laena #hotd #my art #return of the jealous older stepmother au but this time its focused on laena. in this au she never has to marry daemon and she and Rhaenyra #get to live out their summer lovers agenda potential as they were always meant to do

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megalony · 9 months

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Little Dragon

This is a new Aegon Targaryen imagine I hope you will all like, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

Masterlist

Summary: Aegon doesn't want to be King, he doesn't want to be anything, except a father. Looking after his little girl is the one thing he knows he can do. And when they all attend a ball and a fight breaks out, Aegon protects her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Aegon…"

A quiet grumble passed his pale lips while his body turned towards the voice he could recognise in his sleep. His arm lazily reached out until his hand could curl around (Y/n)'s hip and his legs tangled in the sheets so he could scoot closer towards her.

When he realised she was sitting up, Aegon cracked an eye open to make sure she didn't have the babe in her arms before he tightened his arm around her waist and wrenched her back down. He smiled at the squeak (Y/n) let out and he emitted another groan when he felt her fingers tangling in his locks. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and looped his leg around (Y/n)'s waist, effectively pinning her down to the bed.

"You need to get up, love." (Y/n) curled her fingers through Aegon's hair and kissed the top of his head when he murmured something incoherent against her skin.

He looked more peaceful now than he had done for the past few days and (Y/n) begrudged telling him he needed to move, but she knew soon enough if he didn't get up people would come looking for him. But when he curled around her like this, gripping her flesh tightly and rutted against her, (Y/n) couldn't break away.

This was the longest nights sleep Aegon had had in weeks. His father's failing health had taken a toll on everybody but when he passed and the crown was forced onto Aegon's head, he started to fall.

His marriage to (Y/n) was the one thing that stopped Aegon from drinking himself into an early grave. She brought the light back to his violet eyes and put colour back to his cheeks. She made him smile for the first time in years and showed him what it was truly like to be loved and not just wanted and desired as an object to move around the board. (Y/n) didn't use him for political points or push him to her advantage.

She loved him.

Then when Araela was born, Aegon perked up and changed into someone better, someone nobody had ever seen before. He loved his little girl to the end of the Earth and now they had a son, Aegon was briefly elated before he crashed back down when he was crowned King.

The ceremony took place three days ago and since then, Aegon barely spoke, barely ate and refused to leave his chambers.

He didn't want to be King, he wished Aemond was the older brother or that Aemond would just usurp him and take the iron throne for himself. He would make a better King than Aegon could ever be and he actually wanted the birth right Aegon had been given. But he was crowned now and there was nothing that could be done.

For a few minutes, (Y/n) basked in the feeling of her husband curled around her like he was one of their children and not the King, heir to the Iron throne. She raked her fingers through his tangled silver hair and kissed the top of his head as Aegon slowly started to wake up beside her.

He wanted to stay in bed all day but he knew his mother would be walking up the stairs at this very moment to come and scold him for not being up yet.

"Don't leave me," Aegon grumbled quietly into (Y/n)'s neck and he felt her chuckle vibrate through his chest and her lips on his forehead again.

"I'm just going to fetch Vaeron," With a lasting kiss to his temple, (Y/n) slowly unravelled herself from him so she could go get the newborn from the crib at the foot of the bed.

For a moment, (Y/n) thought her husband would flop back down and nestle into the pillows like a baby bird. But instead, he slowly shuffled over until he was laid on his back, propped up against the pillows. It seemed he was going to try and stay awake now and as surprising as it was, it was also relieving and (Y/n) smiled softly at him.

When he was in this sort of mood it took a lot to persuade him to get out of bed. (Y/n) never pushed him. If he wanted to sleep she would let him be and stay if he requested. If he didn't want to eat she would fetch him something to drink so he didn't make himself too ill and if he didn't want to talk, she would hold him until the storm in his mind passed over.

No one understood the torment Aegon was going through or what they were all putting him through and (Y/n), for one, would never act towards him as others did. They pretended he was being childish or having a tantrum when he was just broken and being forced into a world he couldn't function in.

(Y/n) found that when she comforted and tried to understand Aegon, he didn't try to drown himself in wine as much. He wouldn't lash out or cry or scream or throw things in utter frustration if (Y/n) comforted him and listened to what was wrong. It was something he wasn't used to, not even his mother tried to see things from his point of view anymore.

Part of Aegon felt groggy and somewhat ill from the lack of sleep he'd had this week and the amount of sleep he got last night which seemed to do him more harm than good.

But he perked up and managed to smile when (Y/n) sat down on the bed with their son in her arms.

Aegon let his head nestle back into (Y/n)'s shoulder and he feathered his lips against her neck while his arm secured around her waist so he could coil back around her again. He was sure she was about to say something if it hadn't been for their bedroom door bursting open and a flock of silver curls becoming visible near the foot of their bed.

"Kepa!"

It was as if a flame had been set alight within Aegon and the sudden change was instant and very clear. He went from curled up at (Y/n)'s side to sitting up straight with his arms out and one of the purest smiles (Y/n) had ever seen on his face. Something in his eyes sparkled instead of their usual dimness and even his posture lifted when Araela was within his sight.

The four year old clambered onto the bed and crawled over the sheets until she could reach Aegon. Her hands grappled along his legs until his arms were within reach and she didn't see the wince or hear his grumble when she stood on his thighs to get as close to him as she could.

His ring cladded fingers curled around her sides and he hoisted her off his legs so he could cradle her against his chest like she was a toddler again.

She giggled excitedly when he nestled his face against her neck and fluttered kisses on her cheek repeatedly while her arms looped around his neck to hold him closer until she was almost strangling him. But he didn't mind.

"Morning, little dragon,"

Araela gently rubbed her nose against his before Aegon sat her down on his lap, making sure the sheets were pulled high around his waist since he wasn't wearing any clothes underneath. It was frequent during the hot nights like these for Aegon to forgo clothes at night despite knowing that on most occasions, his daughter would try and find her way into his chamber in the morning to greet them both.

"Let me look at you," His words were whispered quietly against her temple while he smoothed his hands across her face and brushed her hair behind her ears so he could look down at her. She knew what he was going to say next, he could tell from the way she tilted her head up and took a deeper, bubbling breath to contain her excitement and love. "Hm, even more beautiful than yesterday, just like your mother."

Her giggle was enough to brighten Aegon's mood significantly and he tilted her head down so that he could kiss her forehead before he looped his arms around her middle and cocooned her into his chest again. This was where he wanted to stay, this was how he wanted to spend his days as King.

He didn't want to be sat on the Iron Throne entertaining the idiots of the council listening to their debates and sorting their messes. He wanted to be sat right here, with his wife and children who made him feel enlightened and worthy when he thought the worst of himself.

"I'm so sorry, your Grace. The Princess was insistent on seeing you both this morning."

Both (Y/n) and Aegon looked across to see their daughter's maid stood at the foot of the bed. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her cheeks were flushed pink and her head was tilted down to look at her feet. She was never sure how close to approach or where to look or if eye contact was even appropriate. And now, since Aegon was King and his moods were uncertain unless his daughter was around, no one knew what to do around him.

Everyone feared objects flying across the room and tempers to flare when really, Aegon didn't have the energy to do any of that. A growl was the worst they would get as of late.

"Not a problem, you may leave. The Princess will stay with us," Aegon dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He would remain here until his mother or grandfather came looking for him and demanded his presence. Until then, Araela would stay with them just like she always did when she sought out her parents. She was never far from them, no matter what was going on.

"Kepa…"

"Yes, my love?" Aegon perched his chin on top of her head while he slowly started to sway them from side to side, much like (Y/n) was currently doing while she nursed Vaeron.

"Am I allowed to the ball tonight?" Araela curled her legs up beneath her and nestled down into her father's bare chest while her fingers skimmed up and down his arms and traced the rings he wore.

Her big round eyes glanced up to look at her mother who pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling. (Y/n) knew nothing could get past her daughter. There was a ball taking place tonight, supposedly in celebration of Aegon's coronation and the only person not looking forward to it was the King himself. Aegon didn't like events being about him and he certainly didn't want a ball in his honour when he didn't even want the throne.

But it was already arranged and taking place so he knew he just had to grin and bear it. Hopefully with his wife by his side and a glass or ten of wine in his hand, it wouldn't be too bad.

"I suppose so, besides, I don't want to go without my two girls." He couldn't see why Araela couldn't go, at least for an hour or so. It was a ball, everyone else would be there and it wasn't like the coronation. It was dancing and music and festivities, she could enjoy it for an hour and then retire back to her room with her maid.

"What about brother?" Her small hand reached out for Vaeron who was nestled in the crook of (Y/n)'s arm, slowly drifting back off to sleep.

"Afraid not, sweetheart. He won't like it," (Y/n) kissed Araela's hand before she glanced over at Aegon. "Kepa will have to pick out a dress for you to wear."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turning her head, (Y/n) perched her chin on Aegon's shoulder and curled her hands a little tighter around his bicep clad in the leather tunic. She had to admit, after how horrid he had been feeling these past few days and how much of a strain the coronation had took on him, he didn't let it show.

Aegon stood tall beside her, his hands held respectfully in front of him, his shoulders square and broad beneath the black leather that was draped over every inch of his skin. He wore a gold link chain across his shoulders and part way down his chest which was the only spot of colour on his clothing making it stand out more. The boots made him a little taller than he was, almost at Aemond's height. His hair was neat and tidy and brushed behind his ears and his complexion didn't look nearly as ill and deathly as before.

He even had the conquerors sword strapped to his hip, although (Y/n) wasn't sure whether that was just for show or if he was preparing for any unforseen attacks or events happening tonight.

All he needed was the conquers crown on his head and he would look as regal as he did on his coronation. But he refused to wear it. This was as regal as he wanted to look, he didn't want the crown as well.

"Shall we sit down?" Aegon mumbled the words quietly against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear before he slowly guided her towards the table at the far end of the hall.

Every few seconds, his eyes would drift around the room until he found his mother standing just beside the table, Araela stood obedient at her side with a broad smile and their hands entwined. Aegon didn't want to lose sight of his daughter, not for a second. He was counting down the time until she would return to her room and then he and (Y/n) could later retire soon. Aegon wanted this night over and done with.

"You look beautiful, by the way." To say he liked (Y/n)'s dress would be a vast understatement.

Her dress was the darkest shade of green Aegon had ever seen with streaks of gold thread sewn throughout that almost looked like scratch marks from the claws of a dragon. It was low cut down the chest and had very thin straps that hung just off her shoulders and no sleeves due to the immense heat. It hugged her newfound curves and enticed Aegon to the point he was desperate to leave the ball and tear the dress to the floor.

"Thank you,"

As they advanced towards the table, they came to a stop beside Aemond who was stood watching the event closely like he was scouting out any threats. He was always on edge, no matter where he was or what he was doing.

"Brother," He dipped his head towards Aegon before his gaze moved to (Y/n) and he gave a small smile. "Care to dance?"

(Y/n) looked from Aemond to her husband, smiling when Aegon kissed her temple before he nodded and took a step back.

"Go ahead, my love."

She knew better than anyone that Aegon didn't dance. Their wedding ceremony was the only time he had participated in a dance of any sort and although (Y/n) had loved every moment of it, she knew not to ask him again for a dance. He didn't like participating and if people started to look, it put him on edge.

But Aemond, however, didn't care if people stared. He was rather fond of dancing, it was a skill he had mastered and he knew his sister in law was fond of dancing too.

No one else dared to ask (Y/n) to dance. Aemond was the only one who did because he was the only one who wouldn't get watched or glared at by Aegon if he danced with (Y/n). No one liked the glares they would get from the former Prince and now he was King, one wrong look at his wife would earn a punishment no one wanted to take.

(Y/n) took Aemond's outstretched hand and let him guide her towards the dance floor amongst the other dancing couples. It was somewhat charming to be dancing along with everyone else, trying to blend in whilst knowing the pair of them stood out like a sore thumb. (Y/n) loved the music, it was the only reason she could tolerate such big events like these. For Aegon, he suffered through with wine, but (Y/n) drowned everything out with songs.

She wanted to dance again and again and keep going until her feet bled and the night had ended. But two short songs was enough to send her head reeling and her chest heaving which wasn't a good idea when her dress was a little constricting. It had to be adjusted after Vaeron was born and she was barely getting her old figure back yet. Although Aegon loved her figure the way it was now.

"Thank you for the dance, brother."

"My pleasure," (Y/n) gratefully hooked her hand into the crook of Aemond's elbow and let him slowly guide her away from the dance floor and back towards the high table where the rest of their family were sat.

When they reached the table, (Y/n) smiled curiously up at Aemond when a certain grin crooked along his pursed lips and his brow raised like something had just popped into his head.

She watched, intrigued, as Aemond slowly unhooked his arm from hers when she was stood next to Aegon's chair before he rounded the table like a man on a mission. When he reached where his mother was stood, pointing out various objects and important people to Araela, Aemond went down on his knees in front of his niece and held out a hand.

"I do believe no one's asked you for a dance yet, little Princess. Care to dance with me?"

Araela's doe eyes drifted behind her uncle to catch a glimpse of her parents, but the anticipation was undeniable and she couldn't refrain from grinning from ear to ear. Her maid told her she wouldn't be at the ball for very long and her father told her she would mostly stay by their side until it was time for her to leave. She had spent the last few minutes talking with her grandmother about the ball but seeing her mother dance was like a dream. It looked so fun to her even if she was only four.

When she looked at her parents, Aegon nodded with an encouraging smile he saved just for her and (Y/n) nodded and did a small curtsey to remind her daughter to do the same.

With a wobbling curtsey, Araela grabbed Aemond's hand tightly and skipped beside him along to the other dancers, a lot of whom stopped what they were doing when Aemond passed by with his niece. If there hadn't been so many people on the dance floor, and Aemond hadn't been as tall as he was, it would have been fine for him to just lean down and hold her hands while they danced.

But he didn't want people barging past or knocking into his young niece and with his height, it was easier for him to pick her up and sit her on his hip for the first dance. When a few people moved, he would set her back to her feet and let her dance to her heart's content.

Aegon felt the urge to slouch in his seat and prop his feet up on the table like he used to do during supper, but he refrained. It was an important night and so far it was going well. Some people even smiled at him every now and then and his mother looked pleased, he didn't want to ruin that. He could remain regal and restrained for one night.

He downed the wine in his glass and clicked his back into place before he leaned to the right, enough so that he could press his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head while his hand found hers resting on her lap.

His eyes could look nowhere but at his wife and then his daughter, two of the three most important people in his life.

Something stirred in him when he saw his brother dancing with his daughter, maybe if Araela asked Aegon for a dance, he would be quick to oblige. There was nothing she could ask him for that he would deny her.

"Do you think-" (Y/n) stopped whatever she was about to say when a loud crash rattled through the hall and vibrated off the stone walls.

Her eyes that had admittedly been staring up at her husband moved to scan the hall when she felt Aegon tense and sit straight beside her. His hand clamped down on her leg and his boots dug into the floor, a sure sign he was unnerved.

There was a fight.

Someone had started a fight and as the music died down, raised voices flooded the air instead and words were spat like venom.

Aegon could feel unease and anger radiating through his blood while he pushed up from his chair and advanced round the table, feeling (Y/n) close behind him. He moved one arm to wrap around (Y/n)'s waist, keeping his wife safely stood behind his frame just in case the fight got closer or another broke out. but his other hand was already curled around the handle of the blade strapped to his waist.

This was not the time nor the place for a brawl to happen, it was supposed to be a happy occasion and Aegon had his girls here. He wouldn't have fighting in front or around them.

He wasn't sure where to look, Aegon couldn't keep his eyes focused or in check. He tried to look towards the fight since more men were piling around creating a circle around those who started it but others were jumping in. Throwing punches, pushing others to the side and using enough force to splatter blood on the stone floor.

But then his eyes scoured the dance floor where dancing couples had stopped and gathered together. Some were trying to run and leave, others were glued to the floor unsure where to go and some were shouting obscenities.

Aegon could still see his brother.

Aemond had both his hands tightly clamped down on Araela's shoulders so he didn't lose her for even half a second and her quivering frame was tucked into her uncle's legs for safety. After a heartbeat, Aemond gave her a small nudge and started to walk across the dance floor, bypassing the other people to try and reach his family near the table which was out of the way of the brawl.

When he was close enough to the brawl to see what was happening, Aegon let go of (Y/n), about to push into the circle of people until his eyes glanced back towards his brother.

With his hands still on his niece's shoulders, Aemond twisted her to the side and tensed his back to shield her from a couple of stumbling fools. But the brute force of them bashing into Aemond toppled Araela down to her hands and knees.

The four year old's scream was so delicate and quiet compared to the hustle and bustle crowding the hall but Aegon heard it as if it was the only noise for miles around. She screamed when she fell and again when Aemond hoisted her up just before someone took a step back, about to stand on the little princess.

Changing his course, Aegon ran down the steps and reached his brother just as he hurried from the crowd with simmering anger raging in his eye. If his niece wasn't so young, Aemond would have branded his sword for the disrespect and the sheer amount of people pushing past and knocking her down when they knew how young she was and more to the point, who she was.

"Come here," Aegon breathed through the words as his girl was passed into his arms and he quickly kissed her temple before rushing to place her into (Y/n)'s waiting arms instead.

(Y/n) coiled her daughter to her chest, repeatedly kissing the back of her head while she watched Aemond disappear to both Alicent and Haelena's side and escort them out before things got worse. But when her focus shifted back to her husband, she could see the rage pouring off of him in waves.

He roughly barged his way through the circling crowd until he reached the two that were still pummelling fists into each other.

The guards should be here, dealing with this, not Aegon. Instead, they were trying to move people out of the way and help escort the rest of the family out to safety. But this needed containing and Aegon's calm demanour had disappeared the moment his daughter got mixed into this mess.

If she weren't here, Aegon would have been calmer. Hell, he probably wouldn't have left his seat, he would have let the guards deal with this and with a wave of his hand he would have got them to leave and the party would continue. But with his daughter here, things changed. He wouldn't have her around when this was happening, he wouldn't stand for her being hurt or frightened like this. And if these men didn't stop within the next ten seconds, Aegon would see blood spill and he didn't care for the consequences.

"Enough!"

He barely felt the elbow to the stomach he received, his adrenaline and rage made up for the air being knocked out of him. Trying again, Aegon grabbed one of the men by the scruff of his neck and he brandished his knife in his other hand, pressing the tip so far into the man's neck that blood started to dribble across the blade.

"I said, enough!"

With a growl, Aegon tossed the larger man down on his back on the floor and pinned him down with a knee jabbed into the top of his chest. He almost smiled when he saw how hard it was for the idiot to breathe and he tilted the blade at a different angle so it was covering the circumference of the man's neck, ready to slice when and if Aegon felt like it.

"Y-your Grace…"

"My wife is here, my daughter is here and if you can't tell, that's her screaming. Do you know the punishment for terrorising my child? Hm?" Aegon snarled each word and bared his teeth, scrunching his nose as he delievered his threat by digging his blade into the man's neck and starting a small slice through the skin.

"Kepa," He would have gutted him right then if it wasn't for that quiet, shaking voice that made him sigh and briefly close his eyes. "I want Kepa!"

Aegon revelled in the cry he earned from removing the blade swiftly and tucking it back into the slot around his waist.

"Deal with them," His eyes were cold and menacing as he pointed at the two responsible who were hurriedly grabbed by many guards. "Everyone leave, now. The ball's over, get out."

(Y/n) had never heard such cold malice in her husband's voice and the dangerous look in his eyes made her knees go weak. This was how people expected him to be, this was the cunning, uncaring King everyone tried to turn him into and it was so different from who Aegon really was behind closed doors. But they had unintentionally threatened his daughter, his precious little dragon, and no one got away with that.

His family was his weakness.

The darkness sweeping across Aegon's face vanished the moment he turned towards his girls and his lips softened like butter when he reached his arms out for Araela who almost jumped across from (Y/n) over to her father. He coiled her into his chest and kissed the back of her head whilst threading his fingers through her silver curls. He could feel her shaking against him and how she curled up until she was almost the size of a babe resting against his clothed chest.

They had frightened her. Aegon hated to see her like this, he never knew how to calm her down or what to do to make it better.

When he was sure Araela was nestled safely in one arm, Aegon reached his other arm out and wound it around (Y/n)'s waist. He reeled her into his side, instantly feeling the anger melting away when (Y/n) kissed his neck and her hands found their place on his heaving chest.

Silence followed them as they walked out the hall and Aegon let his eyes fall closed, relishing in having both his girls in his arms. He wasn't going to have Araela attending any more events like this and he wasn't going to be seen at many of them either.

He wouldn't risk his family for anything.

#aegon x reader #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine

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undertheorangetree · 7 months

Text

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Four- Cooperation

Summary- Cregan Stark has a proposition and Aemond struggles with the lord’s arrival.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Grief. Talks of treason. Angst cuz I literally can’t stop. Semi public sex. Also private sex. There's a lot of sex. Mild breeding kink. Praise kink. Jizz?? Dry humping. Discussion of dead babies and children. And Alys cuz apparently she needs her own warning now. Cockwarming.

Author’s Note- sorry this took longer than usual it’s end of semester and I am a shell of my former self lmao. Anyway this is once again debatably too long (10.2k) and the full chapter is linked below as usual :)

series masterlist

It takes a few more days than she had hoped before she is able to speak with Cregan Stark. It seems as though the council had been saving the true work for after the coronation and now they refuse to allow a day to pass without attempting to fix one issue or another. She learns very quickly that even with a council to do the heavy lifting, Aegon had done next to nothing in his six months on the throne, the realm still in shambles from the civil war that has destroyed it.

The Riverlands burnt and all but decimated due to Aemond and Vhagar. The Ironborn raiding every village, port, and town they can reach despite more than one letter arriving in Pyke demanding an end to it. All the great houses still at odds over their differing allegiances. Cregan Stark still thirsty for blood in order to avenge her mother and fulfill his promise to his men. King’s Landing only repaired with half measures after the revolt in the city and less than a quarter of the repairs underway. The list seemed never ending and by the end of each day, she finds a headache sitting heavy behind her eyes, so deep she can’t even attempt to massage the pain away.

To his credit, Aemond takes it upon himself to begin rebuilding the Riverlands himself, taking the initiative to lead the restoration. She has Corlys send word to Alyn Velaryon and command him to sail to Pyke with some of Velaryon fleet with the hopes that conversation and some bribing will be enough to stop Dalton Greyjoy from his raids. Lord Tyland informs them of just how much of the crown’s coffers he had spirited away and begins rationing what can be spared to begin repairing the city. Lord Larys assures them that the hunt for Aegon’s murderer is still well underway, though he has little to show for it.

It is Cregan Stark that is left to her. Handsome, bloodthirsty Cregan Stark. Where he had cast a glare upon almost everyone when he had arrived for the coronation, he had smiled at her, had been friendly and chivalrous. Though Aemond had vehemently disagreed, the council had all but unanimously decided that she was to charm him and turn him toward peace or, barring that, some acceptance of who was now ruling. She does not mind the task, already having planned to speak to the man and not prepared to be usurped less than sennight on the throne, so she agrees and leaves the council chamber with Aemond staring daggers into her back.

She is even more glad for the task as she sits on a bench in the gardens, eyes closed and face tilted up toward the sun as she waits for Lord Stark’s arrival. It feels as though it has been an age since she had the chance to simply be and in this moment, the sun warm and the air sweet with the smell of flowers, she feels completely and totally at peace. It is a strange feeling to have when worry and panic have been all she seemed capable of feeling as of late, but she will take it as it comes. She would rather feel this than the latter and she plans to enjoy it for as long as she is able.

A throat clears and she opens her eyes to see Cregan Stark standing before her, a servant at his side. The girl bows her head to them both before scurrying off as quick as she came and she stands from the bench with a smile.

“Lord Stark. I apologize for the delay in finally being able to speak to one another. My council seems content to work me like an ox now that everything has become more official but I insisted they release me so that I may fulfill my promise to you.”

He smiles as he offers her his arm. “I am honoured you were able to find the time at all, your grace. I know the early days in a new role can be exhausting.”

She mimics his smile gratefully as she takes his arm, allowing him to begin leading her through the gardens. They have not received the attention they deserved as of late- the shrubbery and bushes beginning to grow a bit wild, the flowers untrimmed- but she finds she likes it this way. Being so far into spring, everything is in bloom and beautiful even if they have not been well tended to, the green brilliant and dotted with red, yellow, purple, and white. She allows the silence to fall between them for a moment as she admires it all, feeling as though it has been too long since she has been allowed to enjoy something so simplistically pretty. Whenever she is given a gown or a piece of jewelry, she cannot help but feel as though it is a piece in this great game she never asked to play. The flowers, though, nature, they do not suffer the same fate.

Eventually, she knows she cannot allow for the silence to reign much longer and turns her head to look at the young lord. “My brother told me much about you in his letters. I feel as though you and I are already acquainted.”

Read the rest here :)

Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans

#Aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen x you #Aemond x you #Aemond targaryen x fem!reader #Aemond x fem!reader #Aemond targaryen x niece!reader #aemond x niece!reader #Aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #Aemond targaryen fanfiction #Aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

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drakaripykiros130ac · 1 month

Text

Apparently, Rhaenyra is “selfish” and “entitled” because she didn’t sit down like a good girl after the vipers who had mentally abused her ever since her mother died, took her throne.

The misogyny is so real in this fandom and it’s highly disturbing for the 21st century.

If a woman fights for something that she is owed, she is “evil” (I thought we were past the caveman mentality).

And yes, Rhaenyra is owed the Iron Throne.

King Viserys named her his heir.

The lords of the Realm bent the knee to her and swore oaths of fealty to her.

Neither Rhaenys (the Queen who Never Was), nor Rhaena (Queen in the West and the East) ever had this much in their favor.

She is selfish because she wants to be given what she was promised?

It wasn’t like she begged Viserys to make her his heir. Viserys made that decision all on his own, and Rhaenyra accepted the responsibility and grew up knowing that she would be the first ruling Queen of Westeros one day. She trained for it too.

She is selfish because she refuses to let Hightowers dictate how the Crown rules the Realm, even though they are not the ruling House?

She is selfish because she needs to protect her own family from a faction of traitorous snakes who were planning to assassinate them all?

Because make no mistake: Rhaenyra and her family would have been murdered by the Greens if she hadn’t gathered her forces and fought back.

Rhaenyra, her husband Daemon, and her two sons, Aegon and Viserys, pose real threats to the Greens. They always would have. The usurper would have had to have them all killed to secure his reign (so much for “the Realm would never support a woman over a man”).

“Entitled” is not a word fit to use for any member of a royal family. You don’t “earn” a crown, you inherit it. That’s what a monarchy is. I don’t think any heirs before Rhaenyra had to fight for the right to inherit their father’s crown.

Why should Rhaenyra have to?

If you answer this question with “Because…” you’re basically a misogynist period.

The Hightowers stole her throne and then expected Rhaenyra to stand her ground and accept it for the “good of the Realm” (as if they care about that).

The Greens drew first blood and started a war which destroyed the Realm just so they could satisfy their thirst for power. If they truly “cared” about the people, they would have let the natural transition of power take place as it had been decided (and the people were more than okay with Rhaenyra being Queen, as proven many times in canon).

And as far as I am concerned, Rhaenyra was far too generous throughout this whole war.

She was willing to forgive Aegon and Helaena for the betrayal (because she knew it was not really their fault), she spared Alicent’s life, she didn’t burn Oldtown to the ground etc. I’m not sure if I would have been able to restrain myself, had it been me.

Show some respect for the Dragon Queen and pray that you never have your inheritance taken from you by a gold digger and her backstabbing family.

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tomriddleslovergirl · 7 months

Note

Hcs about how Aemond and Aegon(separate) would react to the reader running away and getting pretty far from Kings Landing? I really love your works btw.

Aemond and Aegon ii Targaryen’s reaction to You running away

Warnings: spoilers, possessiveness, murder

Word count: 1.3k

Aegon ii Targaryen:

Being a seamstress’s daughter, you helped your mother create dresses for Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent.

Your mother had been young when you both moved to King's Landing, having just given birth to you. She’d been close to Princess Rhaenyra, having conversations with each other when she was taking the Princess’s measurements.

As you got older, you helped your mother make dresses for the royal family.

When Rhaenyra moved to Driftmark with the rest of her family, you both were stuck making clothing for Queen Alicent and at times, the other royals.

Prince Aegon & you hadn’t met until it was around the time of his nameday.

Queen Alicent had chosen you and your mother to create a suit for Aegon, for him to wear on his nameday celebration.

Your mother put you on the job of taking the prince’s measurements.

Though Aegon was a bit drunk, he still found it in himself to flirt with you. You, of course, had politely tried to shut down Aegon’s advances, but you soon found yourself taken with him.

Your affair had begun from then on.

When King Viserys died, Aemond found Aegon in your bedroom, begging you to run away with him.

After Aegon was crowned king, your mother had forced you to quickly pack a bag with the items you needed before leaving the castle, saying she wouldn’t support and usurper as a king.

Hours after you left, Aegon had come to visit you.

Your door was open, which hadn’t alarmed Aegon until he walked into your room.

It was a mess.

Clothes were strewn on the floor, various fabrics and sewing supplies were left on chairs or tables.

The drunk prince sobered up when he realized quite a few of your personal items were missing.

Aegon called for his guards to go looking for you as he went to Alicent’s chambers.

When Aegon realized that you were missing, his mind jumped to two possibilities. One, that you had been taken as hostage by the blacks, since Aegon had never been quiet about his relationship with you. Or two, that his mother had something to do with you leaving.

Alicent had tried talking to Aegon before about ending his affair with you. Calling the relationship a disgrace and asking if he had no respect for his sister-wife. Saying that she was using him for his wealth.

Aegon had argued against her and in the end didn’t end his affair with you.

Now, Aegon thought that she may have paid you off to leave King's Landing.

Once he had gotten to her chambers, it was clear to Alicent that something was wrong with Aegon. His cheeks were red and he looked to be in a rush.

When Aegon asked if she had anything to do with your disappearance, she denied it, but said it was good that you were gone. That you would have been nothing but trouble.

Aegon believed her, though defended you when she insulted you.

Over the next couple of days Aegon had been drinking more since your disappearance. When you were still here, he would help him with his drinking problems, but now that you were gone, he had fallen back into his hole of depression.

Since you were gone, Aegon found himself missing you more and more. He got out of bed and walked —or more like stumbled —to your room.

Guards followed him. There were more of them since the war between the blacks and the greens.

He lay down on your bed and breathed it in. It still smelt like you.

Aegon was about to cry over you, when he noticed a small paper half covered by one of the pillows on your bed.

He grabbed it and read through it.

The letter was written in an obvious hurry, the writing messy & jumbled.

In the letter it said that your mother was making you leave King’s Landing in support of his half sister Rhaenyra. And — perhaps stupidly— you wrote that your mother was taking you to Essos.

He clenched the note in his hand. This meant you didn’t actually want to leave him right?

He felt anger towards your mother. She was the one who took you away from him

Aegon decided that he was going to get you back. It wasn’t going to be up for debate.

Aemond Targaryen:

Before the war with the Greens and the Blacks, your father had taken you to King’s Landing to meet Aemond Targaryen.

King Viserys had sent a letter, hoping that he would agree to betroth you to Aemond.

Your father, of course, had jumped at the chance to accept.

To marry a Targaryen would be an honor, he had told you.

You had found yourself upset that you would be forced to marry, but he convinced you to stay on your best behavior.

A celebration was thrown for you & your father.

Your house was quite respectable and wealthy, as you were known for your silk.

You met Aemond at the dinner party, and were surprised by how respectable he was. And you weren't going to lie, he was nice to look at.

You had heard stories about how unattractive the prince was, but you disagreed.

And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you felt your cheeks heat up when the prince kissed your hand.

During the whole celebration, Aemond was respectful and seemed kind. And you thought that you both seemed to get along just fine.

There was no doubt in your head that you were going to get betrothed after that night.

For the rest of the time you were to spend in King’s Landing, Aemond had courted you.

You both would have tea together while being supervised, and spend time in the library.

Aemond was intelligent. That much was obvious.

You would watch as he trained using his sword & Aemond himself found that he was taken by you.

You didn’t shy away from his gaze like the other ladies-in-court have.

You were intelligent yourself & were eager for him to teach you High Valyrian.

You both got married not long after.

Once the war Between The Blacks & The Greens had begun, you had begun to worry quite a bit over Aemond.

The war had truly begun when Aemond had killed Lucerys Velaryon.

He had claimed it was an accident, while Alicent & Otto had reprimanded him.

Though conflicted, you had decided to believe Aemond when he said it was an accident.

Later on into the war, Aemond was sent to retake Harrenhal.

Once word got back to you that Aemond had ordered the executions of The Strongs, you felt disgusted.

He ordered the death of innocent women & children.

You began to question if the murder of Lucerys was truly an accident.

The more you thought about Aemond, the more you were disgusted by him.

War had changed him. Or had he always been like that?

You decided you were going to leave. You couldn’t share a bed with a man who didn’t think twice about ordering the deaths of children.

It wasn’t as difficult as one would think to leave the castle.

Aemond had taught you about the hidden passages & the layout of them.

You packed a bag and stuffed a pouch with as much gold and diamonds that would fit in it. You put on some of your valuable jewelry as well, in case of an emergency and you need to sell them.

You put on a cloak and grabbed your bag and left, taking a ship to Dorne.

Once Aemond had heard about your disappearance, he returned to King’s Landing as fast as he could, putting Ser Criston Cole in charge of Harrenhal.

Once he had returned to King’s Landing, he hurried to your shared chambers to make sure that what he had heard was true. And it was. You wear no longer in your chambers.

Had someone snuck into the castle and taken you hostage? It was possible.

He soon noticed that some of your jewelry and dresses were gone.

Had you left? To go where? It wouldn’t be to visit your parents. You were far too smart for that.

Aemond Targaryen’s wife was missing and he was going to find you.

And once he does, he was going to make sure you weren’t going to leave him again.

#aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen x reader #Aegon Targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #Aegon ii Targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aemond targaren x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen x female reader

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

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A Song of heart and blood - part five | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: After a long wait, the fifth part is finally there! I hope you didn't forget about this story... In case you did, please give it a re-read. The last two parts will follow soon (for real)

masterpost

—

Was there a day when Daemon Targaryen wasn’t plotting and scheming? When he wasn’t trying to secure his succession to the Iron Throne, he was coming up with war strategies or helping his great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter change the future of an entire dynasty.

He didn’t understand the magical side of your story, how exactly you had traversed through the stones, but he believed you.

As the sky gradually darkened, you shared with him the future you knew — the dance. The demise of King Viserys, the crowning of the usurper, the Velaryons’ betrayal to Rhaenyra, plunge culminating in Daemon's final breath, Rhaenyra’s barbarous death, and more.

Daemon wished he had brought a strong alcohol of some sort. Your tales were very difficult to hear at times.

‘’We have to stop this war from happening, Daemon.’’

The prince nodded, his gaze fixed on the flames dancing in the stone fireplace before you. ‘’How do you suggest we do so? You suppressed the wrongly-crowned king before he could be born, but no moon tea will stop Alicent from birthing another babe. My brother is determined to have a son, and he'll persist until one is born to his young bride.’’

Being wedded to a king so young and with such a considerable age difference must not be pleasant for her. She wears a crown and owns beautiful dresses, but she was forced into a role she never desired all because her father aimed to have his blood on the Iron Throne. You almost felt bad for Alicent, but you couldn’t erase the horrible things she did — the things she will do.

A reflection struck you. ‘’The king declared Rhaenyra his heir, but if you were to marry and have a babe of pure Targaryen blood, would the king be willing to reconsider your succession to the throne? His and Alicent’s children will never be pure Targaryen blood, yours could.’’

Daemon turned his head toward you, raising an eyebrow. ‘’Are you suggesting we marry?’’

Air got caught in your throat, causing you to choke. ‘’No! No, I…I was thinking of the princess. She is young, but—’’

‘’Marrying my niece has been on my mind in the past, but I’ve grown out of that idea. But you, you are of pure blood. Born from another time, but you carry the blood of the dragon.’’

Shaking your head, you stood. ‘’I cannot marry you, Daemon.’’

‘’You said you were in great danger from the hands of Otto Hightower. Marriage would ensure your safety.’’

You shook your head again, laughing at the insane words that left the prince’s mouth. ‘’You’ve lost your mind.’’

Dameon suddenly looked serious, any ounce of humor wholly erased from his earlier easygoing features. ‘’You are my blood, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.’’ He combed a hand through your hair, pulling your face away and forcing you to look at him. ‘’You’re safe with me. I swear it.’’

Every bone of your body believed him. If you hadn’t felt safe in his presence, you would never have revealed him your secret. You would never have come to him for help.

You closed your eyes, drinking in the feeling of his touch. ‘’But I can’t stay forever,’’ you said, reopening your eyes. ‘’I’ve played enough with the future; a marriage would have significant repercussions.’’

Daemon’s finger ghosted across your cheekbone, sliding downwards until it settled on the corner of your mouth, gently caressing your pout with the rough pad of his finger. His eyes were contemplative, thoughtful. Gradually, his touch gently lowered, your decollete now the point of his focus. His index finger ran a smooth ring around the chain at your neck, a ghost of a perplexed frown forming on his face.

‘’I don’t care.’’

‘’Birthing an heir myself will change the whole lineage, Daemon. By doing this, my sister and I may not exist in the future.’’

‘’You said yourself that you were from my lineage—’’

‘’Your and Rhaenyra’s lineage,’’ you corrected. Was he not listening to what you were saying? ‘’If you don’t marry her, your children won’t be born and therefore I cannot exist.’’

Your eyebrows furrowed as a question echoed in your head. If you disrupt too much of time, will you vanish? Unfortunately, there was no way of finding the answer to your question. Not many had dangled with time-traveling, let alone written about it.

‘’How long do we have?’’ Daemon asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

‘’I don’t know,’’ you said truthfully, lowering your eyes to the stone floor.

Daemon lifted your chin, tipping your head up to look at him. ‘’Let’s not waste time, then.’’ He closed the space between you, his lips molding perfectly with yours.

You angled your head to deepen the kiss, not realizing how much you missed the taste of him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, nimble fingers burying in his silver hair as he pulled you against him, his clothed body flush against yours.

Then, you were suddenly reminded of Rhea Royce. ‘’Don't you already have a wife?’’

⁂

All Daemon had said before leaving on Caraxes was that he had a business to take care of. Assuming it had to do with his wife being in the way of your marriage, you didn’t ask questions. You wouldn’t like the answers.

He could have it dissolved by the king. His marriage with Rhea Royce had never been consummated, which would leave her honor intact. But Daemon had mentioned Runestone. Hopefully he’ll spare the woman’s life, you didn’t want to indirectly have blood on your hands.

To put your thoughts to rest, you busied yourself exploring the castle. The corridors echoed with the history of your house, each step revealing a new layer of the past.

Eventually, you stumbled upon one of the bedchambers, situated atop of the castle. Pushing open the heavy door, you stepped into the large chamber. Like the rest of the castle, the walls adorned large dragons crafted into stone. You ran your hand over the stone, smiling.

Dany would love this.

Curtains were draped above the large windows, a bright red shade — Targaryen red. It made the room more elegant and matched with the couch cushions. How nice must it be to sit there and look at the sunset.

Lastly, your eyes found the bed. It was smaller than the bed you shared with Daemon and the velvet bedding was slightly dusty from not having been used in a while. You laid on it regardless, tired from all your travels.

⁂

The hour was late when Daemon returned to Dragonstone, the moon casting a silver glow over the island. He should have gone to bed — with you —, but the weight of his responsibilities pressed upon him. There was no rest for the prince tonight.

In the dim light of the candlelit room, he sat at a desk and wrote a message to a Septon he trusted would keep his tongue, arranging for the discreet ceremony that would bind you and him in the morrow. It had to be done rapidly and in the most secrecy.

When the devastating news of Rhea Royce’s passing would inevitably travel across the realm, he knew that as her husband, the first suspect would be him. Their marriage was purely political. His dislike for the Lady of Vale wasn’t a secret. But if whispers of Daemon’s wedding to you were to reach the people’s ears, it would strengthen their suspicion that Daemon had something to do with it.

⁂

You had never seen a traditional Valerian marriage before. You had only read about it in books. The entire ritual involved blood to keep with the Targaryen legacy of being wed by blood and fire.

A breeze coming from the bay blew over the hill, causing your silver waves to dance in the foggy air. You had removed most of your braids for the ceremony, letting your hair cascade down your back. Atop your head sat a traditional piece of Valerian headgear, given to you by Daemon. You assumed it was old, so you treated it with the utmost care.

The Septon stood between you and Daemon, your vibrant marital robes contrasting with his dark clothes. ‘’We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. In the sight of the Seven, I, hereby, seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words: Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.’’

Although this marriage won’t last forever, you wished Dany was present for the ceremony. When you were little, you and her would fantasize about getting married and the beautiful dress you’d be wearing on your big day — and the lucky man who you would wed to.

‘’Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,’’ Daemon repeated, his violet eyes looking into yours. He was so beautiful.

The Septon turned to you, silently telling you it was your turn.

‘’I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,’’ Daemon continued.

You repeated the words, then, using a dragonglass blade, Daemon cut the middle of your bottom lip. He took blood that was drawn from the blade and smeared it on your forehead. You mirrored his action, smearing his blood on his forehead. The ritual felt witchcraft-y, but whispers had it that your Valyrian ancestors used magic to build this very castle.

You handed back the dagger and, in turn, Daemon cut a line in his palm. You followed suit, hissing as you drew a matching cut on your own skin. Blood trickled from the fresh cut before clasping your hands together, letting your and Daemon’s blood mix together.

‘’Blood of two, joined as one,’’ the Septon said, placing a ribbon with a traditional pattern and tying it over your joined hands as blood dripped from your injuries and to the ground. ‘’Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.”

A chalice brimming with wine was passed to you, and you sipped from it before passing it to your soon-to-be husband. Even standing there, you almost couldn’t believe you were marrying this beautiful man.

Daemon leaned down, pressing his cold lips against your own. You could taste blood through the kiss, unpleasing and metallic, but you ignored it and kissed him harder.

—

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#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen imagine #a song of heart and blood #hotd

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howdoesagrapewrites · 6 months

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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐲𝐫𝐞

Plot: You, the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen grew up with a very devoted extended family. But after the dance of dragons begins, you know exactly on what side you belong

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, mentions of noncon, Aegon being... Him

Notes: I didn't love to make such a long post for the last ending, so this will be a series as well (and I also find it more convenient as people tend to be less likely to read long posts)

You will understand this better if you read this ending

>The night of king Viserys' last supper, you were the victim of a mysterious illness, and were forced to stay in King's Landing as your family returned to Dragonstone

>Since then, you had to be a witness of Aegon's usurpation, and were forced to marry prince Aemond, becoming a prisoner in the strong walls of the red keep in all but name

>You decided very early on that you will return home to your family, you will not be accomplice to this insult to the rightful heir, Rhaenyra

>You loved Alicent, you did, but what she did to you, to your family, was a betrayal. She married you to Aemond, even though she knew of your affection for Daeron, she marries you without your permission or even announcement, she marries you to Aemond, as if it was her call, as if she was in her right to betroth you to anyone

>And the one who you thought of as a brave knight, was silent to the whole thing, not a word to say to you

>In a span of mere days, your affection for them had virtually vanished

>It was hard, and it hurt to feel like all your life you had trusted people who would treat you like this

>Especially for Daeron and Alicent

>But you will have time to mourn later

>You tell yourself you can't let your feelings stale you

>It was the night after Aegon's coronation, Aemond, should be asleep next to you, but he is too busy on the council, fooling himself acting as hand of the king

>Which it's perfect for you, since you want to do anything you can to avoid consummating your marriage

>Your father had taught you everything about the secret passages in the Red Keep, he knew them as well as king Maegor himself, and though you could not memorize it as well, it was enough to know how to get out

>But you had a mission first

>"He wears the conqueror's crown, wields the conqueror's sword and has the conqueror's name" said Alicent

>It was too soon to take away his crown, you not take away his name, but you certainly could take away his sword. It's not like he'd use it anyway

>You looked in the mirror and fixed yourself before going out through the passages, you felt a little disgusted with yourself

>It took you some time to get to Aegon's chambers, (to your surprise) Aegon was there instead of a rat infested brothel

>Still, he was much too drunk to notice you, and he was alone. It had been years since he and Helaena had shared a bed. You pitied her, but at least she was lucky, she had given not one but two male heirs, and she had no reason to keep "trying" with Aegon

>You walked on your tiptoes, the sword was hanging in the wall next to his bed, you feared the sound of metal would wake him up

>But it didn't, he instead was (somehow) was sober enough to know you were there, and most importantly, to know it was you

>"Y/N, you are here..." His voice was as drowsy as it was whiny "Came to congratulate the king?" You could see his repugnant smirk aimed at you

>"Indeed, your grace" you lied

>"Come here, here" he sat on the pillows and patted on the mattress to invite you

>"I don't think that would be appropriate, your grace" you were tense, and scared. You avoided him, you don't remember well when it happened, but he changed, he scared you, you feared he might do something to you, and you could do nothing to retaliate, now it was worse, he was the king

>"Pleaaseeeee, pleaseee, just a bit, just for now, I won't do anything" he promised

>"I truly do not think it would be fitting for your grace to be in that position... Even in innocently" you really hoped for the "innocently" part to be true

>But Aegon did the face a child does once they remember something important, like a candle lighting on their head "But I'm your grace, I'm the king, I demand you come here"

>You could do nothing to those words, so you obeyed

>You sat down at the edge of his bed, but he signaled you to be closer, next to him

>"I like when you say your grace, when you say it to me" he smiled

>"It is how one must address you now, just that"

>Aegon pouted

>"Do you love me?"

>You were speechless, and struggled to come up with a polite response to that, you finally just said every subject must love the king, you just prayed for safety being so close, so late, so alone with him

>"But do you love me? Me? Do you love me now?"

>"I- I beg your pardon?"

>"I wanted you to love me, Y/N, do you love me now? I'm king, do you love me now?" He was drunk, slurring his words and repeating them

>You blushed and you felt your heart pound, you were scared, you knew that. But you were also even a little sad for him, you wanted to look at him the way you did when you both were young, you could, and at the same time, it was impossible

>You don't remember how he ended up in front of you, facing you with sad eyes, and unmistakable stink of wine, that reminded you of who he was now

>"I think I'll always love you, Aegon" you wanted to believe it was a lie you told yourself it was

>A tear or two ran through his pale cheeks and he threw himself to your arms, almost knocking you beneath him in bed

>But instead of the lecherous predatory behavior you expected, he just kissed your cheeks and tried to kiss you in the mouth, it was gross, wet, he was drunk so he was salivating

>You grabbed his face with your hands and placed a kiss on his forehead, he asked for more, but he instantly decided he was tired, and grabbed you like a ragdoll, pushing you to the pillows and beneath the blankets with him, you're still fully clothed so it feels heavy. Aegon hugs you like a Teddy bear until he quickly falls asleep, when you try to leave, he complains in his sleep and grabs the fabric of your clothes. But you manage to slip a pillow in between his arms to replace you

>You look at him for the last time before stealing Blackfyre, and think of how different things could have been.

>Once you have the sword with you, you stay in between the walls for some time. Your dragon is not in the dragonpit, how do you find him?

>You can't go to the city, you can't risk having the sword stolen from you

>This might be a suicide, this probably is a suicide, but is all you got

>You decide to go to the dragonpit, you'll ride a dragon to find a dragon. The rule has always been: one rider, one dragon, one dragon, one ride. But you are desperate

>When you get to the pit, you wonder who could be the best dragon to ride for the search, Tessarion is here, but only ever rode alongside her, same for Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. Trying to tame an unclaimed dragon is dangerous, and even if you could, Dagahrion may kill them

>But there's one that knows you very well: Vhagar

>You rode on her back when she was Laena's, you were a little lass still, but she remembers you. And you rode her with Aemond last night

>It is better than nothing, and if she ate you, you know she's so big it'd be a quick death

>You pet her, and she gives into your touch

>You keep calming and buttering her up before you get on top. You're used to riding a large dragon, but she's different, every dragon is, you suppose

>You feel sorry for the ruckus caused when you and Vhagar ascended, poor dragonkeepers

>Your running was obviously not silent

>And so the search for Dagahrion begins. You have to find him before Vhagar decides to kick you off her back

>And before any other dragon comes looking for you

#yandere hotd #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere targaryens #hotd x reader #Targaryens x reader #yandere aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen x reader #yandere aemond targaryen

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bluelikebruises · 4 months

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whispers of summer fervor || aegon ii targaryen

Aegon II Targaryen/TargaryenF!Reader summary: Fire and Blood—you were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed. Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy. or Being the disgraced child of King Viserys and abandoned by your eldest sister pushes you into the arms of her opposition, leading to your support of Aegon’s claim. wc: 5.1k tw: slight ooc aegon, angst, rhaenyra is usurped, rhaenyra slander, daddy issues, mommy issues, viserys is a shity dad, burn scars, reader is born from aemma but skintone & physical features are never discussed, canon divergence, incest cause yknow targaryens, bastard slander, hints of misogyny

a/n: i usually write (or try to) a reader who is neutral to the whole blacks vs green, but not today! rhaenyra is the rightful heir—always—but for the sake of this fic she is not. also i’ve been neglecting completing my uni assignments to finish this lol, enjoy!!! p.s. not proofread

☆━━━━☆━━━━☆

Fire and Blood—the words of your House.

Fire and Blood—a warning to those who would ever think of opposing the Targaryen dynasty.

Fire and Blood—a declaration of war met with threats disguised as promises.

You were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed. Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy.

A fate you were lucky enough to not shoulder alone, Aegon like you was born of your mothers blood. Born out of a desperate need to uphold old customs and beliefs. While his birth was celebrated it also split the Realm, whispers of his right as future king followed him throughout his life. The notions of king left heavy expectations for him to shoulder, expectations he never met, always falling short in one way or another. Resulting in his feverish drinking and promiscuity.

You are both young when you realize the shortcomings of your livelihoods. The drop in your father’s voice whenever he spoke of you. The frigid overcast that glazed over his eyes when his eyes set on you. The blatant favoritism he showed towards your much older sister—the tenderness in his eyes was a warmth you had never felt. His disdain leaked into your interactions; an uncomfortable shadow fell upon his brow whenever you were in his presence. As if your very being pained him, and how could it not? You were the walking reminder of his wife’s death, of his failure as not just a husband but a King.

Aegon knows the resentment his mother harbors towards him despite her denial. Her first born conceived of a loveless marriage. She had been a girl and made a monarch overnight and some months later a mother. She was robbed of her girlhood and tied to the crown forever and Aegon had been the first nail in her coffin. Aegon represented every sacrifice she had made and his constant rebellion felt like an insult to everything Alicent lost.

You understood one another, in ways many could not. Cut from the same cloth amalgamations of Targaryen indulgence, stubbornness, and passion. The least favored children of the King and Queen, bonded over neglect and resentment.

Years forged your attachment into blind fidelity, a sickly devotion that was rooted in your hearts like oaths. The world hardly existed outside the two of you and it didn’t stop for anyone without the Targaryen name. While many believed there were no exceptions to your coterie, they would find themselves proven wrong. For nearest and dearest to you was Helaena and Aemond, both as intertwined with one another as you and Aegon.

Though the four of you were close none of you shared an inkling of a relationship with your eldest sister. Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone and never turned back, no word or ravens ever arrived in her stead.

When she had resided in the Keep she made no effort to hide her aversion towards you. She was a specter in your memory and marked as a heathen by the Queen. The Queen marked Rhaenyra a great many things and left a bitter child you swallowed her words like water.

It came to no surprise to anyone when the Queen announced that Vaemond Velaryon was bringing into question the validity of your nephew’s claim to Driftmark. After all Rhaenyra had done a very poor job of hiding her indiscretions.

━━☆━━

On the day of the trial you sit in front of the hearth dreading the affair that was to come. As the hours passed you prepared to become a part of the circus, another spectacle for the Lord and Ladies of the Kingdom to gawk at. Prying eyes were always trying to glimpse at your injury, trying to validate the whispers of gossip they had heard. They were children and you, a parable came to life—a reminder of how cruel the Gods could be. The Cursed Targaryen Princess who could not hatch or claim a dragon. A clear demonstration that even the Targaryens were exempt from their own fire.

Eyes followed you even when not a single body was around. They haunted you mercilessly. The constant feeling never allows you to inhabit your body comfortably. It was the reason many of your dresses had been tailored towards your lesions. Tailored towards the concealment of the damaged skin of your shoulder and upper arm.

Your dresses always had long sleeves even during the hot summers. The scars that could not be hidden with fabric were hidden by your hair. Never was your hair tied up or styled in extravagant fashion. It was only ever neatly placed out of your face in a simple manner.

With the sound of your chambers doors opening you surface from thought. Aegon steps into view, freshly bathed with his hair combed and wearing an exasperated look.

“The Keep is a mess” he says slumping down next to you. He throws his head back leaning uncomfortably on the divan

“Your sisters arrival warrants pageantry”

“Your sister” he clarifies

You scoff, Rhaenyra had not been your sister in years. She had always tried to marry you off to a Lannister or whatever Lord presented himself as willing. She thought you incompetent and arrogant, endowments she believed were smears of her mothers memory.

She was one to cast judgment, you’re sure Aemma would not have been keen on having illegitimate grandsons. What was the saying of House Arryn… As High as Honor. Bastards were anything but.

“Has she not summoned you?” he looks at you curiously

“She has,” you respond boredly. A servant had entered your chambers the day prior, her head tilted towards the floor as she spoke. Her timidness struck you as odd and instantly you knew she was one of Rhaenyra’s. With a smile you sent her back to her mistress, refusing to tangle yourself in her web.

Aegon smirks, “She is to be Queen and you deny her”

“She pedals falsehoods and you forget she is not Queen yet”

He laughs shifting in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. While you hated being watched, Aegon's gaze was different. He was never trying to pry you open or overzealous with morbid curiosity. He always regarded you with esteemed affection and tenderness.

After a long pause you say, “Is there something on my face?”

His stare doesn’t waiver and he doesn’t respond. It is rare when he forgets how bewitching you could be but when it strikes him, he is at a loss for words—overwhelmed by the realization. His eyes shine with novelty as if it is the first time he has ever laid eyes on you. As if you were the grand encompass of the ocean and he was ready to dive in.

You utter his name and he’s awoken from the spell he had been under.

He stands offering his hand, “We should take our leave now”

“You’ve never been one for punctuality” you tease and he smiles

“No, but I have been informed to behave. To present an image of regalness and grace” a laugh escapes his lips, “As if I am Aemond”

Now you laugh taking his hand, “He is much more regal than you”

Aegon clutches his chest just over his heart, feigning hurt, “You injure me”

With your arms laced together you set off to find Aemond and Helaena. It would have been improper for Aegon to enter without his wife and for you to show up in the arms of a married man—regardless if he was your brother. It was a rule the four of you rarely followed but today was not the day to deter away from customs.

Helaena is the first to spot you in the halls, Aemond is with her. A bright smile displayed on her face as she said your name. You can’t help but admire her, always effortlessly beautiful and far more intelligent than anyone gave her credit for. The picture of what women of your house were to be, beautiful, intelligent, and dragon riders. Everything you were not and though she did not hatch an egg she had claimed Dreamfyre. You should have been mad with envy but no such ill feeling ever came.

You loved her, perhaps no envy was born due to your ever present feeling of having to protect her. Of shielding her from the claws that embedded themselves into Keep. Destroying any sight of light or innocence. Fearing she would be treated like you had been.

You depart from Aegon to greet Helaena with a kiss on the cheek. Moving towards Aemond to do the same, he greets you with a compliment before extending his arm for you to take.

“Always so chivalrous” you say loud enough for Aegon to hear

━━☆━━

The hearing had gone to shit. Your father made a surprising appearance, Vaemond had died, Lucerys was still heir to Driftmark, and everything was as it had been the day before.

You stand beside Aegon and Aemond in the dining hall, the room is lit by candle light as chatter fills the air.

“What a waste of time” Aegon huffs

“Dinner or the hearing?”

“Both. Lucerys is still heir and Daemon suffers no consequences.”

Aemond chimes in, “Their breaths are an insult to everything we stand for”

You nod about to speak when the sound of the wooden door opening announces the arrival of the King. Quickly everyone settles to stand before their seats, seating only after the King is seated.

Your father greets everyone with a hoarse voice. He wears a golden mask on the rotten side of his face and he breathes as though it pains him.

“Prayer before we begin?” The Queen asks and he nods

Instantly your head is bowed, your hands are in your lap, and your eyes are closed. Prayer had become a daily ritual before dinner and it was always led by the Queen.

Before the prayer is over you feel the sensation of eyes on your skin. You think it to be one of your nephews but when the prayer is over you see it is Rhaenyra.

Her eyes are casted with an emotion you cannot read and they soon drop to your shoulder. Eyeing the scars that edged just above your shoulder and the base of your neck.

Feeling the scrutiny of her gaze, your hands find your hair moving it to disrupt her viewing. You had been judged by the vultures of the Seven Kingdoms, you would not allow Rhaenyra to do the same.

The expression on your face is clear, Rhaenyra has gotten to you.

Aegon notices your discomfort, notices how your hair now falls over your chest, and how your eyes are focused on the empty plate before you. Instantly he knows someone is to blame. He first assumes it to be Daemon, his uncle was crude and unceremonious. Having little regard for the people around him, not bothering with niceties.

But when he sees Rhaenyra attentively watching you—casting judgment—he knows it was her. Aegon almost laughs at her hypocrisy, as if she out of anyone had any right to look down upon others.

If his sister wanted something to look at, then he as a gracious brother would oblige in the only way he knew how, by causing a scene. The one thing Aegon was adept at was getting under people's skin, poking and prodding until they burst.

He leans towards Jacaerys spewing his obnoxious rambling. When his nephew bites back Aegon leans back in his chair reveling in the beginning of his antics.

The sound of wood scraping against stone makes you cringe, your father is standing removing his mask displaying the rot that has taken over the left side of his face. Eye’s are averted at the bare sight of the King’s face, but you are accustomed to seeing rotten skin. His teeth can be seen through his cheek, the muscle stretching and contracting as he speaks—it's a morbid sight.

He speaks of reconciliation and forgiveness but you pay him no mind. Besides you, Aemond keeps his eyes forward, Helaena has her eyes on the wooden table, and Aegon’s jaw is tight as he stares at his wine cup.

You spent the next couple of moments with your head in the clouds. Surfacing from thought when Rhaenyra toasts to the Queen, thanking her for looking after the King. You’re surprised when the Queen follows after, her kind words confound you. But you have no time to think them over as Aegon stands from his seat. Stepping between Jacaerys and Baela pouring wine into his cup.

Aemond looks suspiciously towards you but you had no answers to give him. When his eye leaves you the table shakes and Jacaerys stands as Aegon sits. With furrowed brows you look at Aegon who sips on his wine with ease.

The room falls silent and Aegon is reviling in the tension, trying not to smile triumphantly as he uses his cup as a shield.

The tension in the room grows thicker when Aemond stands. He’s looking at Jacaerys with the marksmanship of a hunter who had spotted their prey.

Eyes shift and concern is painted on the faces of almost everyone.

Jacaerys playfully hits his uncle on the shoulder, raising his cup as he smiles at Aemond, “To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth” Jacaerys pauses looking between his uncles, “And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles”

Across the table you see the snarky smiles of Jacaerys’ betrothed and Lucerys. Their smugness lights a flame in the furnace of your heart. You have half a mind to stand with Aemond, to show that their disrespect would not be tolerated.

“To you as well,” Aegon says

When Aemond sits you lean towards him, “Fucking miscreants”

“Vermin” he responds as Helaena stands.

She smiles excitedly holding her cup of wine, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon” she turns to them, “It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you, except sometimes when he’s drunk” she smiles

You let out a small laugh at her words. Aegon was rather whinny when drunk, he became a rambling needy mess who desperately wanted attention. And you were always there to give it to him in any shape or form that he needed it in.

Smiling, you raise your cup towards Helaena, “Hear, Hear”. The scarlet wine falls down your throat with ease and your moment of enjoyment is shortly ruined by an approaching Jacaerys.

His eyes are set on Helaena as he extends his hand asking her to dance. To your dismay she takes his hand without hesitation. You’re staring daggers at the Prince, indignation replaces the taste of wine in your mouth. Helaena was far too kind for the world.

Aegon’s eyes catch yours before he looks at Jacaerys dancing with his wife, disbelief and annoyance clear in his face.

In one swift motion you move to stand beside Aegon, “The apple does not fall from the tree” you glare at the hazel haired prince, expecting a response from Aegon but you get none. Confused, you turn towards Aegon only to find him gazing across the table. He’s quiet as he sips from the cup in his hand watching Rhaenyra laugh and talk with their father. Viserys is smiling and coughing through his laughter and it is the most alive he has been in years.

“She arrives and suddenly he can will himself to walk and attend supper” he says only for you to hear

You look up towards the sight of his words—your father and Rhaenyra and you understand. His jab was not said out of anger but out of a feeling of lacking. All the traits and characteristics Rhaenyra had that he did not, the love of their father she had that he did not.

“You’re jealous”

He turns towards you, “Are you not?”

“No”, you lie

“She’s father’s favorite”, he’s looking up at you through his lashes, “I’m the son he killed for and it is not enough”

You avert your gaze, his words struck like an arrow. A part of you had always felt responsible for the birth of Aegon. At fault for the death of your mother, the death of your brother, and the birth of Aegon. If you had not been a butcher, if you had been a boy his burden would be yours.

“You didn’t kill anyone Aegon” you sip wine solemnly, your posture falters, and your head is half hung.

Aegon notices your somber spirit and his eyes soften realizing the error in his words, “I’m sorry, I meant no offense”

“I know”, is all you say returning to your seat

As the night passes you eat and make conversation with Aemond. For most of the night his eye is set on the dancing prince and princess. Occasionally when he looks at you his lips pull upwards in a smile.

After your father retires for the night, servants enter with more food. A cooked pig is laid out before you and before you can think Aemond’s fist hits the table as he stands.

“Final tribute”

All eyes fall on Aemond and the room goes quiet.

“To the health of my nephews. Jace…Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” he pauses and it is as if all the air in the room has been cast out, “strong”

Your eyes widen in shock as the Queen pleads with Aemond.

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

“I dare you to say that again”

Aemond turns towards Jacaerys, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment”, they both walk towards one another, “Do you not think yourself strong?”

Lucerys rises from his seat as Jacaerys strikes Aemond, Aegon is not far behind grabbing his nephew and slamming him against the table.

Bolting upwards you grab Helaena pulling her away from the chaos. She grips your hand tightly frightened by the scene.

“Are you alright?” you ask

She nods, “Yes but Aemond” her hand points at the exiting prince. Understanding, you pull Helaena, following Aemond.

Once you’re in the halls you follow the sounds of Aemond’s steps, Helaena runs towards him. She latches onto the side of his arm soothing the riled prince. You’re about to do the same when laughter echoes from beyond the hallway—Aegon.

Grabbing the side of your dresses you hold it up allowing yourself quicker movements. With your approach the shadow of Aegon grows smaller and his laughter grows louder.

You say his name as you grab his arm. When he lays his eyes on you they widen excitedly, your name falls from his lips, “You are a vision. Have I told you that? Come, come, let us retreat into our burrow”. He gives you no time to respond as he throws an arm around you and leads you away.

The burrow was a small unfinished room at the far end of the Keep that had been hidden by a suit of armor; it had been discovered by Aegon when he was ten and two. Immediately he ran to inform you about it, dragging you into the room. It is not large like either of your chambers but it’s spacious enough that both of you can move without bumping into one another. Rugs and sheets hung throughout the floor and walls hiding the decaying walls. Bottles of wine littered the room, both empty and full.

Aegon is drunkenly rambling, as you make sure there is no one around to see you gently push past the suit, “”Twas only a compliment” he mimics Aemond’s voice.

Sitting near the corner of the room you grab a bottle and Aegon moves towards you. He rests his head against your lap spilling wine into your dress, not that you cared. He’s laughing recalling the events of the night.

With a laugh you respond, “Jacaerys’ stance was laughable, he looked like a child throwing a tantrum”

“He is to be King”, his laugh dies as the sentence leaves his lips, “He is to be King”

You both grow quiet, the words weigh heavy over the both of you. The realities of a future that is so close to becoming reality. If you were believed to be a stain on the Targaryen legacy, Rhaenyra's children were desecrations to the Targaryen dynasty.

“Perhaps your mother is right,” you sip from the bottle of wine not fully thinking about the words as you speak, “Perhaps you should be King”

Aegon half laughs, pushing himself into a sitting position, “You speak of treachery”

“Your mother says—”

“My mother is crazed on a notion that we will be slain”

You wish you could believe him, but the image of your sister's husband swinging his sword without mercy does not leave your mind. How easy it would be for Rhaenyra to rid herself of you once she is Queen; there were fates far worse than death.

“Enough talk of foreboding futures. Let us drink ourselves blind”

“Hear! Hear!” you eagerly agree

True to Aegon’s words you both drink until your visions are blurred and the room spins. You both dance and drink carelessly, laughing as though the events of the night had no effect on you. It comes as no surprise when Aegon leans towards you and presses his lip on yours. The kiss is sloppy and full of hunger, your teeth clash and tongues swipe over one another. There’s a desperation in his hands—in the way he holds your face obstructing any movement. In the heat of passion you bite his bottom lip earning a yelp from Aegon.

He pulls away with a smile, “Ow”

Your hand rest on his chest playfully, “Don’t be a child, I didn’t draw blood”

The rest of the night blurs into a giant mirage of jubilation.

━━☆━━

As the sun rose you wake with a yawn, your body aching from the uncomfortable position it had been in all night. Your head had been on Aegon’s lap and his arm had been thrown over your body. Maneuvering from his embrace you press your back firmly on the brick wall, your head throbbing feeling as though it had been repeatedly bashed.

The sun’s rays kiss your cheeks, it's warm and gentle and for a brief moment the world around you falls into obscurity. Nothing else matters beside the sun’s golden touch and the beating of your own heart.

The body besides you grumbles and your moment of serenity shatters as Aegon slowly stirs into consciousness. You’re brought back into the arms of reality.

“Wine,” he says, “More wine”

You don’t waste your breath, instead you make your way to your chambers. Stumbling the first few steps out of the room. Peeking your head out of the door way you make sure there is no one around before exiting.

Walking down the corridors there is an air of urgency within the Keep. There were twice as many Knights as you were accustomed to seeing and servants hurried into the direction of the Great Hall. Regardless you carry on, not bothering to greet any of the people who greeted or called after you.

Approaching the hallway to your chambers you’re unexpectedly faced with the sight of your wooden doors wide open. Stepping closer you see three figures standing at the center of your room; Aemond, Ser Criston, and the Queen.

Puzzlement rests on your brow, what had transpired in the hours you and Aegon had disappeared. As you continue your approach you can see the faces of your visitors all displaying an array of emotions.

“Your Grace,” Ser Criston states as you walk through the threshold, “The Princess”

The Queen turns towards you instantly, wasting no time in embracing you, “Oh sweet girl”

Her embrace wasn’t foreign but the sudden action confuses you further.

“Where have you been? Where is Aegon?” she pulls away but keeps her hands on your arms

You looked towards Aemond trying to find any answers on his face but there were none.

“I’ve just left Aegon. Has something happened?”

“Where is he?” The Queen’s grip on your arm tightens. Desperation is in her eyes and it frightens you, enough that you decided to keep Aegon's whereabouts to yourself for the time being.

“We snuck out of the Keep last night. Upon returning to the castle Aegon left my side”

She turns towards her sworn Knight an unsaid order ushering him quickly from your chambers, Aemond follows suit.

When they’re gone you repeat your question, “Has something happened?”

“Your father is dead, he died in his sleep”

Her voice was grave and her words echo in your mind but you can’t decipher them. It’s as if you have lost the ability to comprehend the common tongue.

A moment passes and you realize what your step mother had said. Silently you wait for grief but it never arrives, there is no sadness in your heart, no invading sorrow. Your father is dead and you shed no tears for his memory.

“I–I need a moment,” you pull away but before you can leave the Queen pulls you towards her. Her hand is under your chin lifting your head just enough to meet her gaze.

Her eyes are round and full of distress, “You know where Aegon is, I beg of you, bring him to me. It was the King’s dying wish. Do not let my father get his hands on him first”

You nod and hurriedly walk out of your chambers, returning to your burrow. The throbbing in your head returns but you try to disregard the discomfort, there were far more pressing matters.

The closer you got towards Aegon the faster your move, breaths of air forcibly escape as enter through the hidden door. You thank the Gods when you see Aegon in the same position he had been when you left. You rush to his side, dropping to your knees shaking him.

“Aegon, Aegon. Wake up, Wake up”

He groans and his speech is slurs. Letting his arms go, he slouches into a half sitting position half laying. His eyes flutter open for a moment and your name falls from his lips.

“‘Tis me,” you cup the cheeks of his face almost painfully. He tries to move away from you but you do not yield, “Aegon, father is dead”

You watch your words register in his mind. He blinks his eyes open and takes a breath, pushing you aside.

“Your jest are not appreciated, my head is murderous”

“It is no jest, the King died in his sleep”

Like you had with the Queen, Aegon takes a moment, his eyes are wide looking through you making sense of your words.

“Father is dead” he repeats. His hand passes through his hair, a look of distress clear on his sunken face

“Yes and your mother and grand feather are searching for you”

“For me? What could they want—”

Realization hits you both like a strong gust of wind, knocking all the air out of the room. The line of succession crosses your mind for the first time. You had thought nothing of the Queen’s words about your fathers dying wish but you understood them now. Of course, the Keep was in disarray because the Hand was trying to sit Aegon on the throne before news of the King’s death spread.

“They mean to crown you”

Crowning Aegon would be treason and all those who participated would be punished with death. The idea does not frighten you as much as the idea of Rhaenyra on the throne. You’d surely be sent away, sold off to be the pretty little Targaryen wife of Lord who’d defile you. And the realm would fall to pieces with a spiteful malicious woman at its helm.

Aegon looks at you horrified, “No. They can’t. I am not heir”

“That does not matter, it was the King’s dying wish to have you succeed him”

“On whose word?”

“Your mother’s”

Aegon scoffs, “She is crazed, fuelled by her hatred for Rhaenyra”

“You may think her crazed, but your mother is a woman of the Gods, she would not lie about a matter of this caliber”

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly. His back is against the wall, he looks disheveled, dirty, and disarranged. Tears swell in his eyes and he swipes them away with his sleeve.

“A dying wish he had years to fulfill”

“I know not the whims of old Kings, but I know regret. It is clear in the words he spoke to your mother that he wanted you on the throne, his first born son”

“What kind of brother would I be to take the throne from Rhaenyra?”

“By the law of Gods and Men the throne is yours. You cannot steal what is rightfully yours”

“I do not want the throne” he argues

“Aegon” you plead

“No! I will not take it,” swiftly his hand grab yours, “Let us climb on board a ship escape to Essos or on dragonback—”

You interrupt his crazed thoughts squeezing his hands, “Listen, Rhaenyra only cares for her own, she has never cared for us. If you let her ascend the throne what will come of your mother? Of Aemond? Of Helaena and your children? ” you pause, “Of me? She sees my existence as blasphemous and yours as opposition. If we leave we are leaving those we love to die. Ascend the throne Aegon, protect us”

Silence encompassed the room, Aegon ran his eyes over your face searching for answers, trying to understand what was being asked of him and if he could undertake such a task. You return his gaze with soft eyes and gentle hands.

He had never thought himself a leader let alone a King. He did not want the pressures and responsibilities of leading an entire land. Aegon would no longer be able to hide under his title of prince, as King. He would have to be the picture of Targaryen greatness and regalness—heavy is the head that wears the crown. He wants to laugh at the notion but his chest is heavy with your words.

“Do you understand?” there’s a desperate edge in your voice and he doesn’t respond, “Aegon, do you understand?”

“Yes,” he nods

#targaryen reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader fic #aegon ii targaryen/reader #hotd x reader #hotd fic #aegon ii targaryen fic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen fic

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 5 months

Text

chapter xxiv – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,000+

masterlist

Cassian continued swaying Y/N around after her confession. He could tell she was panicking, and knew she didn’t want to have a breakdown here and now. So, he distracted her, twirling her unnecessarily around until she was laughing and telling him to cut it out through her giggles.

“We miss you in the Night Court,” Cassian said through a smile, but along with sad eyes she could not miss.

“I miss it, too.” However, there was more to say and he caught it.

“But?” He urged.

“But Autumn feels like…” Y/N dared not finish.

“Like home?” Cassian offered gently.

She shook her head. “The Mortal Lands are my home, Cassian.”

He sighed. “Sometimes homes change, Y/N.”

Then the Illyrians gaze settled on someone over her shoulder.

She turned to see Helion Spell-Cleaver politely standing near them with his hands clasped behind his back.

The High Lord stood tall. His wide and muscular torso was on display from the drapery of his white and gold robes. And his onyx hair was more voluminous and shiny than any woman’s she’d ever seen. In it was his gold, halo crown and band that proved his power and position. He was a beautiful male, that was indisputable.

“High Lord Helion,” Cassian bowed his head in greeting. Though he was not his High Lord, he was still above him in power.

Helion nodded to the General, then bowed to Y/N as if she were Lady of Autumn. “I was hoping for a dance with the female of the night.”

Y/N expected to look at Cassian and find a warning glare on his face. But he seemed only amused. Perhaps she didn’t know Helion as well as she realized and misjudged his intentions at the High Lord meeting where she was interrogated. Perhaps this was actually the male that Leonora had secretly loved for so long.

A small growl came from the floor. Y/N looked down to see Ronan giving another warning growl to Helion as he stood between him and Y/N.

She couldn’t help but giggle at her tiny and brave fox. “Ronan, relax.”

The fox turned to look up at her and stopped growling immediately.

“Go to Eris,” she commanded him softly.

The fox whimpered as he hesitated, before eventually trotting over to Eris on the other side of the room. He plopped his butt down at the High Lord’s feet, but protectively watched her, prepared to come to her defense if she should need him.

Y/N stepped away from her friend and toward the High Lord carefully.

“Behave, Helion,” Cassian warned playfully, but quietly enough that only the three of them would catch it. “Though I would enjoy watching Eris take you on if you do not.”

A new song started and Helion guided them around the floor.

“Is this a game of some sort?” Y/N asked him with clear suspicion.

“I assure you it is not, Lady Y/N.” Helion smiled down at her. “I fear we got off on the wrong foot. But I see now that I judged you too harshly.”

“You fae are distrusting creatures,” she teased darkly as they continued to spin.

He chuckled. “A life if immortality makes us weary of new beings, especially ones who are as subtly powerful as you are.”

Y/N frowned at that. Not knowing the true strength of her new power was unsettling to her and it haunted her most nights.

Helion’s voice lowered and his mouth moved closer to her ear as he said, “Between the two of us, I must confess that my interrogation came from a selfish place.”

Then Y/N caught his gaze flicker to Leonora for hardly a second. If she had blinked, she would’ve missed it.

“I only wanted to make sure the people of Autumn Court were not in danger,” Helion lied quietly.

“Why do you not go to her?” Y/N whispered.

“It is my shame.”

Her eyes squinted in confusion.

“You have not been in Prythian long, Y/N. And you were lucky to only know Beron for the last moments of his existence.” His eyes glazed over as his mind raced through the past of his immortal life. “You do not know the torture she endured. And through it all, I stood back and let it happen. I should have saved her. I should have killed Beron myself.”

“But you are High Lord of Day, it would have started a war. And you would have lost so many lives of your Court.”

Helion’s amber eyes darkened almost to a brown. “What good is power if it cannot be used to protect the ones we love?”

Y/N didn’t know how to answer that. She was not familiar with having the powers that he possessed. But she had now been around enough High Lords to recognize that such strength did not come without its consequences.

“I do not deserve her forgiveness or love,” Helion finished. “You do not know what it is like to see the female you love lose the light from her eyes, all while being treated like nothing more than a breeder.”

Y/N allowed herself to watch Leonora for a moment, who spoke to various courtiers of Autumn, with a polite smile on her lips.

“Do not underestimate how much light you could bring back to her eyes,” she muttered. “I do not think she believes there is anything to forgive. I think she only worries, after all this time, that there might not be a second chance for you both.”

Helion gave her a grateful grin. “You have given me hope for Autumn, Y/N. Perhaps you could visit Day Court soon with your mate, and together we could repair the gap between our two courts.”

Y/N couldn’t meet his gaze as she answered, “I have not accepted the bond…"

Perhaps she shouldn’t be sharing such information to another High Lord. She didn’t know why she confessed it so quickly and easily.

Helion’s brow furrowed. “And do you not plan to do so?”

Y/N looked around, trying to buy herself time on her response.

“Forgive me,” he quickly added. "It is none of my concern.”

Then, as if trying to change the subject, Helion locked eyes on Nesta, who pretended to be annoyed with Cassian’s obvious and heavy flirting. Everyone knew they were claimed mates, so Y/N didn’t know why she tortured him in such a way.

“Though, before tonight ends, I should once again attempt to convince those two in joining one of my parties…”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ve heard all about your bedroom habits. Which seems like a strange way to reconcile with your lost lover…”

To her surprise, Helion looked guilty from her call out. “It is much easier to forget about lost love and a broken heart when you preoccupy yourself with endless lust.”

“I will confess,” Y/N began with a mischievous smile. “Us Valkyries are desperate to pet one of your Pegasus. Nesta has threatened to proposition both her and her mate to do so. Though I do not recommend taking her up on the offer if you care for Leonora as you say.”

Helion smiled as he found Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie gossiping and giggling in a corner with empty glasses of wine.

The High Lord of Day stepped away from Y/N and bowed his head slightly to her. “It has been an honor, Lady Y/N.”

Then Y/N was alone on the dance floor. And she quickly made her escape before another male could ask her to dance.

There were two giant doors open to the gardens outside. Suddenly, fresh air seemed like the best thing for her.

Y/N took in the garden before her. Across the pond, the autumn trees glowed with the yellowish faelight floating amongst the branches. To her left, was a fountain surrounded by the red and orange fallen leaves of the court. To her right, was a stone and metal temple that stepped directly into the pond – and Y/N made her way to that.

The wind brushed around her, giving her a delicate touch to her cheek.

Y/N gave a small smile at the companionship.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The voice behind her made Y/N jump. “You frightened me.”

The male was tall and spindly. He did not have the powerful muscle that Eris, or any of her male fae friends, possessed.

He did not apologize for scaring her, nor did he look even slightly guilty for it.

“May I ask your name?” Y/N continued, looking around them and noting that it was just the two of them outside.

“Muiris,” was all he provided as he took steps toward her.

“Nice to meet you, Muiris. I am Y/N.”

“I know who you are,” he answered back too quickly and harshly.

Y/N blinked at the rudeness.

He stepped past her and looked at the large pond before them, hands clasped behind his back. “This particular garden was built centuries ago. So long ago, in fact, that most in this Court were not even alive to remember a time before it existed.”

Y/N got the feeling he didn’t care if she responded or not. So she remained quiet.

He turned to look her up and down. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, seeing as you are not of fae blood,” he snipped.

She openly glared at him now.

This male was clearly no friend, Autumn courtier or not.

“How did you do it?” He hissed suddenly.

“Do what?” But her instincts were telling her to take a step back and get away from him.

He only moved closer. “Those of us whom still have our wits about us know your game. You have bewitched Eris Vanserra, convinced him to kill his own father. And you will kill him next. I have known witches in my time, and good they are not. Your kind is only capable of evil. And I will not stand by and watch Autumn fall into your clutches.”

Before Y/N could even wrap her mind around his words, the male unsheathed a dagger from some hidden place on his body.

She was quick though, shooting to the side and unsheathing her own knife strapped to her thigh.

But before she could even raise it in defense, an arrow flew from behind her and hit her attacker squarely in the wrist that held his weapon.

Y/N whipped around to see a Autumn guard had released the arrow, and he was now calling out orders and warnings to his comrades.

Though Muiris had cried out in pain and dropped the dagger, he wasn’t weak enough to abandon his mission.

But as he lunged for her once again, a gust of wind hit him so hard that he was flown backward into the pond.

Y/N blinked and she was surrounded by nearly twenty Autumn soldiers who circled her protectively.

A whip of fire burst out of nowhere and dragged Muiris out of the water by his ankle, scraping his body across the harsh stone steps.

Y/N turned to see Eris slowly walking toward the male.

While his composure was calm, she could only see the fire and rage in his gaze and posture.

A whimper came from below her. Ronan had found her and was pawing at her legs in distress.

Without thinking, Y/N bent to pick him up. She held him as if he was her anchor. And in return, the fox kit licked her face repeatedly.

“I always knew you were a fool, Muiris,” Eris growled. Then he bent to pick up the dagger he’d dropped. It was then that Y/N realized it was made of iron – a witch’s ultimate weakness. “But your stupidity has reached a new low.”

With a snap of his finger, Muiris was shot onto his feet by an invisible power. And flames erupted at his feet, climbing up his body. The male screamed in agony, but he was inflicting pain, not death. Eris was keeping him alive…for now.

“The witch has cast spells on you, High Lord!”

Eris lashed out to grip the males throat, his hand looking more like a demon's talons than human. “Is that so?” He hissed, his tone alone belittling such an accusation.

Muiris gasped for breath. “I only…tried to do what is…best for Autumn Court.”

“I am what is best for Autumn Court,” Eris growled as his grip tightened around Muiris' throat. “And she is what is best for me.”

Y/N then realized they had an audience. Cassian, Rhysand, and Feyre rushed outside to see what was going on.

Muiris found Y/N’s eyes through the crowd. “She will…ruin us.”

Eris moved his face centimeters away from Muiris.

The High Lord's flames did not burn him like they did his victim, only dancing around his skin like they belonged to his body.

“She will save us all,” Eris whispered, but somehow Y/N could hear it clearly from where she stood.

“You are going to die now,” Eris added. But Muiris didn’t react until he added, “And you should know that everyone you brought with you tonight will die with you.”

The males eyes widened in panic. “B-But my son…my son…he was not a part of this!”

“I do not trust such a defense, especially one from your mouth. However, if it is true, then his punishment will simply be his relation to you. An attack on my mate is an attack on this court, and I will counter accordingly.”

Eris turned to look at her. And for half a second, the fire in his gaze blew out.

Then he looked at the soldiers who surrounded his mate. “Escort Y/N back to her chambers.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but she knew better than to challenge Eris so publicly. And then she realized she had no idea what to even say, because there was not a single part of her that wished to spare this male’s life.

So she let the small army escort her back inside.

Rhysand, Cassian, and Feyre all shared looks with her as she left.

The other High Lords and guests from there courts began winnowing their exits.

You should go, Y/N spoke to both Feyre’s and Rhysand’s minds. I am safe here. But Eris will not rest until his wrath is released.

He is only protecting you, Rhysand defended Eris surprisingly. I would do the same for my mate. And his eyes flickered to Feyre’s.

You say the word and we will bring you right back to Night Court, Feyre answered back softly.

But the nobles and courtiers of Autumn remained standing. They watched with disgust – not at Eris’ reckoning, but at Muiris’ actions. Clearly, they did not stand with his beliefs toward their new High Lord and his mate.

Y/N had been escorted back inside.

Half a dozen fae were on their knees with fiery cages keeping them from moving: Muiris’ companions. Eris’ smoke hounds had already been dispatched, guarding each of them as an extra precaution. They growled menacingly with their tales pointed in the air. Not even Y/N’s presence distracted them from their task.

It wasn’t until Y/N was in the hallway that she heard the screams and the sound of fire burning flesh.

She knew Eris burned them slowly.

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Y/N paced in front of the fireplace in her bedchambers.

There would be no sleep for her tonight. No one told her the Forest House was on lock down, but she heard the running in the hallways and the shouting of orders.

Y/N wanted to go to Eris, but she also didn’t want to get in the way.

If there was one pattern Y/N couldn’t ignore, it was that her endangerment caused Eris to go absolutely feral. She wondered if it it was terrible how little it scared her. The way he protected her so fiercely and without hesitation…it only lit a fire in Y/N’s body. No one – not even her coven – had defended her in such a way. Perhaps his manor of doing so would scream danger to others, but to Y/N…it only screamed love.

There was a knock on her door.

But Y/N’s heart didn’t jump in anxiety, unsure of who it could be.

Ronan awoke from his slumber near the giant fireplace to growl at the door and beat her to it.

But she immediately knew it was Eris, and she rushed to throw it open.

“Y/N,” Eris breathed.

She looked around and realized that all of the guards who had escorted her safely back to her chambers earlier had stayed and stood guard outside.

But that meant the two of them had an audience.

Without thinking, Y/N pulled the collar of his red, velvet tunic from the event that he had yet to take off. Even his armor was still in place.

Eris slammed the door behind him. “I had to secure the Forest House and hunt down any remnants of Muiris’ following.” The words rushed out as if he needed an excuse for keeping her waiting.

Then he grasped her shoulders and frantically looked over her body. She only wore her nightgown now, but could not care less about the propriety of her attire in his presence.

“My soldiers promised me you were unharmed,” Eris practically gasped. “But I…I had to be sure for myself.”

Y/N grasped his face gently. “Eris, I am fine,” she reassured him in a soft voice. “He did not even get a chance to touch me.”

He nodded, his heart finally calming from seeing for himself that his mate was fine. “Then I will return to my rooms.”

But they both knew he wanted to do nothing of the sorts.

Y/N quickly grabbed his hands. “Stay,” she muttered. “Please.”

Then, in an attempt to stop things from going too sobering, she added, “This was your room once, after all.”

Eris smirked. “Aye, and there is nothing but your scent here now.”

“I shall never truly understand the keen senses of the fae. You are far too open about how much you smell," she teased in return.

Eris fully smiled now. “Trust me when I say, your scent is nothing but delectable.”

Y/N’s face felt hot, even from such a strange compliment.

Ronan, annoyed that his sleep was interrupted, had relaxed once he realized it was Y/N’s mate at the door. He trotted back to curl into a ball again next to the crackling fire.

“Do you need help taking this off?” Y/N asked Eris, gesturing to his armor.

He brushed off the offer almost immediately, “I can manage.”

But Y/N ignored him, stepping toward him and beginning to unbuckle the heavy metal on his torso.

“Relax,” Y/N whispered into his ears as she stood behind him, noting how tense his shoulders were as she helped him.

The sound and feeling of her breath caused a rush to go down Eris’ spine.

Eventually, all of his armor and his cloak were politely collected into somewhat of a pile against the wall, leaving Eris in only his velvet arming coat.

Y/N glanced down at her state of undress and then quirked an eyebrow. “Now that will not be comfortable sleeping in.”

Eris narrowed his eyes and tried to hide his smirk as he took the last of his clothes off, leaving him only in black braise, briefs and no shirt.

Like every other time Eris’ chest was exposed, Y/N couldn’t help but stare.

There were scars across his skin, and Y/N wondered how many of them were from battle and how many of them were by the hand of his abusive father.

Without realizing it, Y/N’s fingers began tracing some of them.

“They healed long ago,” he explained softly, as if trying to comfort her.

Her only response was to grab his hand and slowly lead him to her bed.

Though the situation would appear to be leading to a certain intimacy, there was no promise of such an act. Eris didn’t want to ask that of her and risk scaring her away. No, all he wanted right now was to hold her in his arms and prove that his mate really was safe.

Y/N slipped under the covers of the bed first and pulled him in with her. But she stayed close, ignoring the other half of the bed behind her.

Carefully, she placed her head on his chest, her ear sitting right over his heart. Her left arm draped over his muscular torso.

The two of them just lay there for quite some time, only feeling each other and hearing the rustling of the trees outside with their dry, autumn leaves.

“Does my wrath frighten you?” Eris finally said so quietly that it felt like it came from a ghost within the room.

Y/N didn’t move from her place on his chest.

“Perhaps it should…” she eventually sighed, as her eyes drifted off. “But you have never scared me, Eris.”

“You are right: perhaps you should be frightened of me.” He takes in a shaky breath as his eyes stare up at the ceiling. “I am merciful. And that was what I promised myself I would be if I were to ever usurp my father, and live to rule Autumn.”

Then his gaze turned to look down at her.

She lifted her head in response.

“But I will become the villain when you are threatened. I will sacrifice what little good I have left in me to destroy any who dare hurt you, Y/N.”

This is the part where he expected her to run, to confess that he had gone too far and his words instilled fear in her finally.

Instead, Y/N reached up and caressed his cheek. “Then… let us hope it does not come to that.”

Quiet enveloped them once again.

Eris rubbed his hand up and down Y/N’s bicep.

Finally, she had the courage to ask what had truly haunted her from tonight’s events. “Does it not bother you…that there are those who think I have brought evil and deception to your court?”

“Why should I? If they truly cared for Autumn, they would have rebelled against Beron long ago. They are only attempting to test their new High Lord, to find my weakness and see how pliant they can make me.”

“But perhaps I do make you weak…” Y/N whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear it.

“That is far from the truth.” Eris’ voice was strong and now too loud for the quiet room.

And with it, his emotions made the flames of the all the candles in the room spike in height and glow.

“Before you arrived this evening, I was… struggling,” he admitted. “I can command an army to win any battle, gain my troops unmovable loyalty, and oversee this court to exceptional change. But making my people…like me.” He paused. “I had never considered that would be an obstacle during all my years of seeking to become High Lord.”

Y/N let him continue.

“Nearly all of Hewn City despises both Rhysand and Feyre," Eris added harshly. "Yet they do not let such opinions hinder them. What does it matter to be liked by such horrid beings?”

She couldn’t help but smirk. “We are not them, though. And both of them came to rule Night Court in much different manner than you.”

They both knew she was right. Losing a father and High Lord from horrors of war was far different than killing one’s father and usurping him. And Feyre…Feyre was fae. Though by magic and not birth, she would still grow more and more like those she protected in her court.

“It seems unfair to compare ourselves to them. We are…different.” Then her eyes dazed off as she noted that Eris most likely hoped that their love affair would blossom into something similar than those two now have. “I ask that you do not do it again.”

--------

OK OK OK. I am so fucking sorry that I was MIA for so fucking long. My life is....crazy. I'm currently trying to find a new job and I am also working on other personal projects. So I simply have not had the time nor the energy to write.

But please, please, please write a book report for this chapter. I think it will get me to keep in the creative space to write more chapters of this quickly.

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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year

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Can I request some sort of smut with Prince Regent!Aemond? I can't get him out of my head!!!! I see him being so mean and intimidating on the Iron Throne, like he wouldn't wear the eye patch bc he knows he looks "scary" to everyone in the court without it...except his little wife doesn't find him scary. His sweet wife is willing to fulfill his every need, no matter what that is, and is a good girl for him when he fucks her roughly, and it ends up melting his cold heart. Just a thought 😮‍💨

please the heinous bitch I'll become when Aemond takes this role on, lord forgive me. this is brilliant, thanks for sending in the ask boo xx

hope you love it!

Dearest, Ruthless Husband

PAIRING: Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader

WORDS: 2,432.

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of cruel!Aemond, degradation kink, p in v sexual intercourse (consensual), oral male receiving, mentions of breeding kink.

A/N - writing this got me so hyped for Prince Regent Aemond!!! I hope you all enjoy, the smut is a little different to what I normally write or go about it, but sue me. Intrusive thoughts won!!!!

The Dance of the Dragons as most maesters and commoners of King's Landing had dubbed the unfolding family feud within House Targaryen, was beginning to simmer and churn. Brutal words exchanged, promises unkept and broken, and battles ruthlessly fought, both sides began to earn their gains, and yet also face immense losses. The most recent, left the Usurper King Aegon, burnt and beyond repair. The King had succumbed to his bed chambers, in the endless care of maesters, tending to his wounds as he remained unconscious from milk of the poppy. Although the realm staggered on, it needed to be assigned someone to represent the sovereign himself, and no other candidate stood out, other than your royal husband, Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.

Before the war had torn through the Seven Kingdoms, you had been betrothed to the young Prince. Paramount in securing an alliance on behalf of the Crown, you had grown doubtful that the marriage would remain fruitful, weary that Aemond merely saw you more as an obligation than an actual human being. Much to your surprise and in favour of the Gods, the Targaryen prince, took a key interest in you, as you gradually began to spend more and more time immersed in each other's sole company. Till proof had been cemented when he meekly admitted his love for you.

"It will be undying, this union, bound to me forever, my love. You will never no of hate nor harm, that I can promise you, my wife to be."

And although, Aemond had always been more of a withdrawn, private man since your first acquaintance, the longer this war prolonged, the more it seemed to have hardened his exterior. The man you'd once soulfully cherished and dreamt of now absent, replaced by a strange clone, the warmth buried inside seemed to have gone out like a candle in the wind.

He did no harm towards you, although, you scarcely saw him. Occasionally, he'd accompany you to dinner, only to be torn away from you, more prominent, urgent matters to attend that broke in the dead hour of the night. The bed had grown lonesome, and you struggled to sleep without his comforting presence and familiar body warmth. Regardless, your safety was still a priority, he made certain that you were around, in his vicinity.

****

Nowadays, you often found your husband seated firmly atop the Iron Throne, speaking and acting on behalf of his elder brother, the King. Many a times, he'd often privately disclosed of how he'd envisioned himself instead, given the miraculous chance, he sternly believed he'd be the better choice, "I'm far more suited than the likes of him." And yet, now that his treasonous wish had been granted, the circumstances unfortunate, he did not feel as willing for it. Eager to uphold duty nonetheless, you knew, however, that Aemond loved his family immensely, this including Aegon. They grew together, trained together and fought together. Yet he only now, fully understood the burden in which the crown wielded.

Today was no less different.

Entering the throne room, crowded by those who'd sworn allegiance unto King Aegon the Second, and those in chains, forced upon their knees, for those who had instead sworn fealty to Rhaenyra only to be captured. Aemond coldly observed them from above, the ferocity of the throne, its sharp, steel blades exemplified by his exposed sapphire eye. Since your beloved husband was publicly anointed as Prince Regent, he had taken to the habit of unveiling his lost eye, no longer bearing the notorious eye patch that modestly covered his ailment. He never hid it out of shame, though rather sympathetically as means to not frighten the maidens of the court. Yet the spoils of war had unleashed a crueler side to Aemond, one that you did not sense of its existence, though neither grew fearful of.

"Sided with the false Queen, my elder sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, you have committed the highest form of treason against the Crown... Cowards and traitors, you shall all face the wroth of the Dragons through me... I do not see it fit to send you all to the Wall, no that would be mercy...Death to the whole lot of you."

His words sent a cold chill through your body, shuddering against his low, unwavering tone. Aemond had always spoken with a steadiness, and that remained unchanged. You could not deny that seeing such a formidable side of Aemond, unlike before, was invigorating. In the haste moments that you were caught in your own bewildered thoughts, with a sway of his hand swatting for the guards to remove said traitors, the out-roar of prisoners begging and pleading before their Prince Regent and the rattling of their heavy chains as they'd been forcefully led away was a chilling memory. After the final few had left to the dungeons below, you'd caught sight of Aemond staring right at you. Mindlessly, a faint smile fell upon your gentle face, and in a few seconds to come, Aemond demanded that all vacate the room, except for you. As the others departed, you walked in the opposing way, strolling closer and closer to where your husband remained comfortably seated, coming to a halt before the stony steps.

Upon hearing the final closing of the main, oak doors, an eerie silence fell upon the void of the room. Aemond's eye turned from the shut doors back down unto your feeble state below, the height and distance made you look smaller, more miniscule.

"You dare to taunt me with that smile, woman? Your presence during court already weakens me so."

"I merely wish to see my husband in all his glory, for it feels like a lifetime that I have not been blessed in his company. If needs be that I must seek you out myself, then so be it."

"Hmm."

Just as you'd taken the first step up, Aemond commanded for you to stop. Caught mid-way, you were startled by his objection as he often never resisted you.

"You think you can go unpunished just like that, do as you please and walk yourself right up here. Simply because you're my little whore?"

You were mildly perplexed by his minor outburst, although with the sly grin strewed across his face and the low deep chuckle he provoked from his own amusement, you knew he was simply taunting you. And yet, being Prince Regent, you had no choice but to obey.

"On all fours woman, I want to see you crawl to me, like the bitch that you are."

Hesitant at first, the burning glare from your husband's end though convinced you otherwise. Now on all fours, you slowly began to mechanic your way up to him, feeling Aemond's grin seething into the tender skin of your back, straight through your gown. Did this amuse him, seeing you grabble for him on the grimy, ancient floor, practically yielding to his every word.

Now at his feet, you remained on your knees, sore palms resting on your thighs, you looked up at him eagerly, a soft smile upon your face. If he thought he could taunt or debase you, he should reconsider.

"Satisfied yet, my dearest?" You meekly interject, your smile growing brighter.

"Not yet. Have you any bright ideas, wife, or must I command you like a hound?"

Although his voice stern, the sly grin remained faintly embedded across his face, and eyebrow perked, eager for your response. Yet your remained endearing, a lustful look across your face, as your hands began to gently make there way up his lean thighs.

"You have worked so tirelessly for the realm, and yet your wife remains lonesome, in her own company. From time to time, my husband is too busy fulfilling the duties of the realm, he seems to have forgotten his duty to his wife. Leaving me to touch myself so desperately... I suppose, I must remind him."

Now your hands reached the buttons of his trousers, Aemond bucks his hips forward, as you undo them, pulling them and his under garments just low enough, that his bare cock strings out. Already glistening at its tip, the sight always left you dumbfounded. His length was greater than average, and veiny, you could sense its palpating throbs against the soft palms of your hands, as you began to stroke its firm state.

"Already hard for me, my Prince. Have you missed me so?"

His pre-cum already spilling from the pinkish tip, you'd noticed the more fasten your pace grew, the firmer his grip tightened on the metal arm rests of the throne. His once-steady breathing now heavier.

"Fuck Y/N. Don't keep me waiting."

A sweet giggle escaped your lips, as his eye and the sapphire gem remained fixated on your kneeling frame below his knees. Soon enough, still massaging his hardening cock, you ease yourself between his thighs, spreading his legs out wider for you to adjust yourself. His wish, his command, you brought your mouth to his cock, in the same, sensual pace, sucking at his cock, feeling the throbs and familiar taste in your mouth.

"Seven fucking Hells," He breathlessly huffed, his chest now heaving against your slow, engulfing motions.

It was undeniable that the tip of his cock was stiffly hitting the back of your throat, regardless of how often this act was done in the privacy of your shared chambers, his length was one you could never quite adjust to, often gagging at it, although now you'd grown familiar to manoeuvre and angle it accordingly.

"That tight, pretty mouth of yours, oh, how I've missed it."

It had been a while since Aemond and yourself had shared these intimate moments only lawful between a man and his woman, since the uprising of the war. The Gods were now charitable, for both your favours were being met.

"Mmm. F-Fuck I'm close, Princess. Straightened up."

The thudding of his hard, long cock you could feel had grown tenser. Pulling out, caused a visceral reaction from him, as you once more, obeyed his command, straightening your posture enough, that the cleavage of your breasts was the main attraction between his thighs. Immediately, he hastily spilled his warm seed over your breasts, causing a mess all over you, some of his wetness had seeped in between the cleavage, whilst the rest glistened against your soft skin, before pooling down, drenching your garments.

"A masterpiece if I ever saw one," He chuckled, as his thumb tenderly wiped away at the remnants lingering over the corner of your moist lips.

"Aemond, I need you dearest," You sulkily yearned, a hand clutching to your clothed cunt, feeling yourself beginning to grow avid, as a long, familiar feeling brew between your thighs.

"Up- Come, my dearest-" His hand smacked against his thigh, as the other held your hand in is lifting you up, guiding you to ease yourself down over him: hastily pulling your layered gown up and tearing your undergarments into two, his firm cock easily finding its way inside of you.

Muffled moans helplessly tore through you, once again, the neediness for your husband's cock, and the long-awaited wait, stimulating you enough. His wetness that coated him, helped to ease himself plunging in, now adjusted, your hips beginning to sway forwards and back over his strong lap, his rough hands held you firmly by the waist, steadying you over him.

"I ought to fuck you senseless, leave you satisfied enough for until the next time I return from battle. Perhaps I ought to fuck a babe into you, my dearest."

Still childless, it was all bad-timing for only a few months after your wedding, the war broke out and Aemond was caught in the haste of it all. He scarcely had time to bed you, although now that his family numbers were dwindling, it seemed a babe was of great importance, an heir for the Prince Regent.

"Y-Yes, Aem- I want your child."

"Your wish is my command, wife. I shall see you swell greatly with child, as many sons and daughters as I see fit."

Earning more helpless cries and screams for your husband, the room echoed with your pleas and Aemond's heavy breathing. You were certain the guards posted outside, would know of the events unfolding from within, and yet no shame. For they'd have to answer to Aemond, and that itself, was a threat.

"Fill this pretty cunt of yours, this cunt that belongs to me. I shall keep you full, as need be."

"A-As you desire, m-my Prince-"

One of Aemond's hands remained supporting your lumbar, snaking its way behind, and the other found its way to your scalp, tugging and pulling at your hair, as your head rocked back in tune to his aggressive motions. Words no longer comprehensible to exchange, Aemond's lips found themselves occupied, lapping and suckling at the sensitive crook of your neck, leaving harsh, red marks across your skin.

"Finish me, Aem. I-I need you to fill me-"

The excitement that had brewed in anticipation for this monumental moment, had finally met its need. Your sweet, hot cum pooled over his sturdy, long cock inside, pooling beneath your gown, and in response, evoked the same pleasurable reaction from your husband. Feeling his hot seed once more, shooting itself inside, coating your walls. You felt certain a child was procreated in that precise moments, though regardless, would pray to the Gods to grant you the chance to bear a healthy babe.

Huffing and puffing, hot, perspiring skin against each other, resting your foreheads against one another, almost in sync, you both exchanged faint, genuine laughter.

"I-I have missed you my dearest. It pains me so, to be away from you so often and for so long. I cherish these moments with you, even catching you lingering in the shadows, watching me."

His sweet words warmed your meek heart, and you knew that your husband was apologetic in some sense, even if he struggled to admit it.

"I know my love, but soon enough, a war always comes to an end. Just be sure, I have you returned to me in one piece, and at my beckon call."

A deep, low chucked echoed from deep inside him, as he bashfully looked down, before returning his sole gaze unto you, your fingers toying with long strands of his platinum hair.

"Even if the Gods have other plans, I will defy them for you, always. I promise to return to you, and if the Mother is willing, a babe in your arms. I love you."

general taglist - @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @randomdragonfires

Aemond taglist - @godrakin @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

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