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violetrainbow412-blog · 3 months

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From hate to love… or something like that

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 15.7k (sorrrryyyy)

warnings: arranged marriage, hate-to-love, mentions of rape, mentions of incest, mentions of suicidal thoughts, drinking alcohol, mommy issues, daddy issues, mentions of sex without love, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), porn with plot (but something cheap, tbh) and I probably forgot something but I think that makes it clear that this shit is not for minors, so MINORS DNI :)

A/N: I started this since the second season premiere started so if you find any canon-like scenes I completely promise it wasn't intentional. I also want to make it clear that you are responsible for what you read and if you don't like something please just let it go, that would be very kind of you!

And this doesn't make me team green at all, I'm a defender of the rightful queen to the death… it's just that her brother is too sexy to ignore 🫦

Enjoy!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @barcelonaloverf1life @ilovequeen978

FIRST ACT: HATE

Finding a wife for Prince Aegon II was probably one of the most difficult tasks Alicent Hightower had to face.

The engagement with his sister Helaena had been broken after a more tempting offer for the princess, which would get them a permanent alliance with the Lannister house that they couldn’t refuse. Viserys himself had agreed to accept and the queen consort had no choice but to give her little daughter in marriage to a blonde lord. The problem was that her son was left without a fiancée.

Aemond didn't worry her, after all he was growing up quite quickly and she knew that he was more inclined to become a warrior than to fulfill his marital responsibilities. But Aegon, however, was a lost cause.

It was no secret that Alicent had always felt disappointed in her eldest son. He was careless, lazy, and a hopeless alcoholic, qualities that couldn’t be celebrated at all. Now that her beloved father had returned, the queen didn’t hesitate to consult him on the matter, hoping that the man had a solution for the problem that afflicted her, and together they analyzed what was the best option to unite the king's first-born son. Especially after, years ago, Rhaenyra and Daemon got married and moved to Dragonstone indefinitely.

“It must be someone we completely trust, someone who cannot dare to hurt us because they know that their blood is linked to ours.”

The Arryns were loyal to the future queen Rhaenyra and some of the houses south of Vale were too. The Westerlands was the richest section of the Seven Kingdoms and was already secured, so it seemed prudent to the king's hand to go for the next widest section: The Reach. The most formidable options within this area were the Hightower and the Tyrell. Obviously taking the first option would be a waste since the members of that house would support Aegon without complaint due to their kinship, so the decision was made with the direct heir of Highgarden.

King Viserys agreed to the idea without putting up many obstacles, since poppy milk clouded his judgment most of the time and also the affairs of his first son had never interested him much.

The union was sealed as soon as the deal was offered to Lyonel Tyrell, who was extremely happy to be able to assure his family a future with said marriage. It was thus that he gave you, his only daughter, to Prince Aegon II Targaryen.

And the second the boy saw you, he absolutely hated you.

He had come to the idea (very unpleasant, by the way) of marrying his younger sister and now that his mother was forcing him to marry a complete stranger, he couldn't be angrier. In a short time he would turn twenty and it seemed pathetic to him that at that point he would have to offer shows like those before the kingdom. Because the wedding wasn’t simple, of course, but thousands and thousands of guests were present at the banquet that Alicent forced the king to prepare, claiming by saying that he had done the same for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding.

“It is a pleasure to finally see each other, your grace. They have told me a lot about you”

You had said those precise words the first time you had met, when his mother organized a walk so that you could 'get to know each other better', although supervised by her own eyes that were behind you, making sure that her son didn’t commit any indecency. But no matter how sweetly you smiled and spoke them, Aegon could sense that you were lying.

There was hatred in your eyes and a clear resentment towards the life from which you were torn, as if it weren’t an honor to have the opportunity to marry the prince of the seven kingdoms. Your hypocritical words represented an insult to the boy and that is why he decided from the first moment that he would hate you deeply.

With your mere existence you would have deprived him of his freedom, his entertainment, his youth. He would be tied to you for future occasions, he would have to take you to all the events, secure your food, your clothes. share the same roof and pretend to be nice to you in the eyes of others. And, besides, he could have thought of a lot of candidates better than you, physically speaking. Your beauty was quite ordinary for his taste, as if he were looking at any painting; cheap and repetitive.

“I regret to admit that I am not so fortunate, Lady Tyrell. But I am happy for the union of our houses” he lied, in the same way that you had done.

And it was obvious that this didn’t go unnoticed by you, that you had the same critical eye as your recent fiancé but that you sought to maintain composure in the presence of your future mother-in-law.

On the wedding day Aegon had a good time only because he was able to drown himself in monumental quantities of liquor and because he was able to eat as much as he wanted of the exquisite banquet. He didn't even pay a bit of attention to how you looked in the wedding dress that the royal seamstresses had been in charge of making in record time, because when the time came he flattered you superficially and then ignored the matter. The ceremony kiss was the first you shared, and it was so fleeting and awkward that the prince felt disappointed. On the wedding night he was so drunk that he didn't even look at you.

You knew that the unfortunate day would come when you would have to carnally please the young man and the simple thought of being defiled in this way caused you terror and nausea in equal parts.

It was a stranger whom you had married, of whom the only thing you knew was his noble title and name.

In the days following your marriage, unfortunately or fortunately, Aegon didn’t even speak to you. You didn't have to share a room, so it was easier for him to completely ignore you while he went about his ways.

You had to admit that the only good thing about having taken this trip was the beautiful landscapes that King's Landing offered you. Your room had a direct view of Blackwater Bay and you spent several days looking out the window at the beautiful sea. Sometimes you could watch Prince Aemond ride his dragon, and honestly, the size of the beast scared you a little. You hadn't had the chance to observe Aegon in Sunfyre yet but if he was as impressive as Vhagar, then he would be quite a sight.

A week passed, then another and another where you were nothing more than a guest in the palace. You didn't talk to anyone, you ate dinner alone, you barely saw the outside of the castle. Sometimes you went to the Sept, pretending to pray, but really just killing the endless boring hours of the day. You were somewhat lucky if you found Helaena, the most sensible and calm within the royal family, because you had pleasant conversations with her. When you met the queen it was a little more difficult, because she asked you endless questions in which you had to fake the answers. How could you be fulfilling your parenting responsibilities if the capricious prince wouldn't deign to lay a finger on you?

After a month, Alicent seemed to take matters into her own hands and forced her eldest son to take you to sleep in the same room as him. However, Aegon seemed to want to blame you for something you hadn't chosen. He never spoke to you and every time you went to bed, he would stand with his back to you as far away as possible. And as if that weren’t enough, he had explicitly ordered his guards not to allow you to leave the room unless it was in his company. It was his way of punishing you, of getting even for the complaints of his mother and grandfather regarding his lack of interest in marriage.

“My mother wants us to attend a dinner tonight” you were so unaccustomed to hearing his voice addressing you that it took you a second to process what he was telling you “I will talk to the maids to bring you a suitable dress.”

You didn't know what to say. You didn't want to go to that dinner, nor did you want to be with him, or wear one of those tight, annoying dresses. Aegon, noticing your silence, deigned to look at you and in your eyes he could see the aversion you felt for him. It was something difficult to mask and he had seen it on so many faces that it was nothing new.

“As you wish, prince.”

A bitter laugh came from your husband's throat.

“Don't be a hypocrite, for God's sake. I know you hate me as much as I hate you. Save appearances for guests, not in the chambers."

You wouldn’t have had the courage to admit out loud what his majesty had said, but you didn’t dare to contradict him either. You had to play the role of a self-sacrificing and suitable wife for the man if you wanted to keep your honor, but above all your head.

You tried, with all your might, to see some quality in Aegon that you liked so that you could treat him in a better way, which always resulted in something useless. Perhaps if he had been nicer to you, you could have known how to forgive his faults, but even that wasn’t granted to you.

The dinner was mostly family-oriented, with the guest of honor being from House Baratheon whose purpose was to discuss some political matters with the king and queen. Due to his health, Viserys didn’t usually leave his room more than necessary, however, that night the occasion warranted it.

“Lady Tyrell, how is your stay in King's Landing?”

The king had a reputation for being gentle with his guests and was the first person to ask you a personal question, so the smile you showed him was genuine.

“Very pleasant, your grace. The servants treat me as well as possible and I must admit that the views from my room are beautiful. Your dragon is impressive, Prince Aemond, by the way.”

The boy, who wasn't all that expressive, just looked at you for a moment and tilted his head down slightly.

“I'm glad you like it, princess.”

"And my son? How is our Aegon treating you?”

That question was more complicated to answer, since it required expressing a lie. Everyone present focused their attention on you, except your husband who had been staring into nothingness for a long time.

“Very well, my king. He’s a good husband and I am happy to have been able to unite our houses.”

The aforementioned snorted, incredulous at what you were saying at the table, and took a long drink from his glass of wine.

“And I hope very soon you can give us strong and beautiful heirs.”

Although that was intended as a compliment, you felt the weight of that responsibility pressing down on you again.

“I wish the same. It will be an honor to serve the crown and bear the progeny of a house as formidable as yours."

The queen was pleased with your answer and for a moment felt sorry for you. She knew her son well, so deep down she knew that it wasn’t a gift from the gods to be married to him. The rest of the table looked at you curiously, wondering if you were serious, trying to be ironic, or just trying to play the good girl role.

Aegon, as expected, became intoxicated during dinner and when Queen Alicent announced that she was going to retire to sleep you thought it prudent to do the same. Your husband, however, had other wishes.

“Stay here,” he asked, his voice serious.

When he was drunk he looked you up and down, probably evaluating how worth it would be to decide to strip you naked and fuck you once and for all. Your body in the dress you were wearing looked better with a few drinks on him.

“I think it would be best to retire, my husband. This way you can stay with the men to chat and… drink”

“But I want you to stay here to keep me company,” he insisted, holding your wrist tightly “Or don't you want to please your prince?”

It wasn’t a loving request, but one for control. He wanted to have you there only to demonstrate his power over you, without paying attention to you or talking; only as an ornament.

“Aegon, enough,” Alicent interrupted, observing the scene that had begun to unfold. “Daughter, let's go to sleep. “I will accompany you”

“Fine, do whatever you want,” he spat contemptuously, abruptly releasing the wrist that was holding you. There was hatred in his eyes, but also pride.

The queen said goodbye to everyone present and then offered you her hand to take you away from there. You spent most of the way in silence, walking through the long, wide corridors of the fortress followed only by the faithful footsteps of Ser Criston Cole.

“You must be patient with him” he began to say “He is a particular man and sometimes… difficult, but I know that with your docile character you will be able to deal with his temperament.”

What did she know about your character? She didn't know you at all.

“So it shall be, Queen Alicent.”

“I understand what you are going through, dear. We both come from the same lands to endure the difficult task of accompanying a monarch. But it is our duty to carry it out with all the honor and temper worthy of our homes. Of course, I can trust that as a woman you will be able to help him fulfill another of the most important marital commitments, such as having children, to maintain the lineage and blood. For a virgin like you, Aegon may be rough, but... patience and resilience are among the best virtues. A woman in royalty must endure these things to give the best to the people.”

You had never wanted to be a princess. And just when you thought the queen was showing you compassion, you realized that she was only looking out for her interests and those of her family.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind"

She smiled and immediately left a kiss on your forehead, which could have been taken as a maternal kiss but which you didn't like at all. The longer you can postpone suffering, the better. If Aegon didn't even want to look at you, it was perfect.

That night, as soon as you touched the mattress and the silk sheets that decorated it, you began to cry until you fell asleep.

SECOND ACT: CONTROL

Time passed again and although the punishment of not leaving your room was not revoked, you found multiple activities with which to entertain yourself in the prince's absence. You filled your mornings and afternoons with reading, writing, knitting and embroidering. The nights were even more boring because most of the time your husband wasn't there either.

Rumors that you hadn’t yet consummated the marriage had spread through the halls of the palace and soon the smallfolk would murmur too. After all, the people couldn’t entertain themselves with anything more than the gossip and the plays that were going on in the poor neighborhoods, making fun of royal affairs.

You no longer even had the energy to deny those accusations and Aegon had given you the perfect opportunity by throwing you out of his room and refusing to leave the four walls of yours: if you didn't leave there, there was no way anyone would question you. And since you didn't have family inside the Keep, you didn't have any visitors either.

One night, however, your husband surprised you by entering your room. It had been days since you two had seen each other and his staggering around the room warned you that he was drunk again. You often wondered how he resisted drinking so much and the long-term effects it would have on his health, but right now your mind could only focus on the fear of what he might want in that state.

“Good night, dear,” he drawled, sounding as sarcastic as possible.

You were in your nightgown and you were carrying in your hand an old book that you had been reading and that you threw on the nightstand as soon as you saw him approaching you. You didn't have time to say or do anything else when he had already approached you in giant steps to grab you by the back of your neck and start kissing you. He was abrupt, careless, with his mouth smelling of wine and tasting even worse. You wanted to cry from helplessness.

“It's what everyone wants, isn't it?” he murmured, separating himself from you, but still holding you by the hair at the back of your neck. “A marriage arranged in a couple of days to form alliances. And that's it, my life was ruined thanks to my father wanting your stupid castle to expand his domain."

The truth is that couldn't be further from the truth. Viserys’s ambition had never been that, as he had been so little involved in the process that he simply didn’t care who his children were or were not married to. Except for Rhaenyra, of course.

Aegon continued:

"I didn’t want this. I didn't want to marry you, or anyone..."

“And you think I do?” you confronted him.

You were tired of the insult, the humiliation and him ignoring you as if you were worthless; even if that was what a husband did. And the most likely thing was that your words would be forgotten due to alcohol or that they would put an end to the wait for your suffering to begin and Aegon decided to take you once and for all.

“You have nothing to lose, prince,” you continued. “You get drunk as much as you want, you run away from your responsibilities and walk everywhere when I have to stay locked up here all day just because you want me to. I have to endure the suspicious looks of everyone because I still don't have an heir in the womb while you go and fuck your whores."

“I'm the prince and I fuck whoever I want, did you hear me?” he hissed. The grip on your hair had already begun to become painful and a few tears slipped down your cheeks “And I stop fucking whoever I want too. I'm not going to please anyone by getting you pregnant. There they will see if they come and force me to put my cock in you”

“Do you doubt that, your grace?” you exclaimed bitterly “Doubts that will force us to conceive?”

“So that's what you want? Do you want me to do it?”

“I want to go home. That is what I want. But my father used me as a bargaining chip and that's why I can't do anything."

“I'm sorry it was like that. If I had chosen my wife, I would surely have chosen someone prettier and more educated than you, but I can't do much either."

Once again, the man pushed you until your lips joined his and the same discomfort settled in you. He didn't kiss you with love, but with fury and violence to the point that you had to push him away when he bit you so hard that a trickle of blood began to come out of your lower lip. Aegon was also stained by it and with an acidic smile he ran the tip of his tongue all over his mouth to remove any traces.

Looking at you he didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry either. He just seemed fed up.

Everyone knew, or suspected, that the prince was very capable of taking sexual advantage of any woman. He had done it before with maids and prostitutes and had slept peacefully throughout that time. However, there was something about you that encouraged him not to. He didn't even think it was something about you specifically but about the situation, because he wanted to do the opposite of what he was ordered: if everyone ordered him to take you to have an heir, it automatically became an unpleasant act and at the same time that he refused.

He was hurt, not because of you but because of years and years of abuse and neglect. He didn't really know you at all, he only knew what you represented.

You were just the unlucky one who had married him.

"I hate you. I hate that you are my wife and you are not worthy of me even touching you” he snapped with disdain. You were still fighting to keep the tears inside your eyes and his vision had also blurred slightly “I wish I had never met you.”

“The feeling is mutual, your grace,” you expressed, your voice breaking. If it was an offense to the crown, you wouldn't even care anymore and if he killed you right there you wouldn't regret it too much either.

Aegon looked at you one last time before staggering back out the door without another word, closing it behind him with a loud gesture and leaving you alone in the room. The reality that you had escaped, once again, from being raped by the man fell on you like a bucket of cold water and your knees weakened until you fell to the floor.

You were hurt, tired, and defeated by the stress of the situation and the fear that had washed over you the entire time. Luckily he was gone, otherwise you didn't know if you would have endured what he had to do to you. It was better to have him busy in a brothel than to have to endure him in your bed.

You wished you could talk to someone and cry on a loved one’s shoulder, only to realize a second later that that was impossible. Aegon was your new family, now you belonged to the Targaryens and you would have to do as they wished.

Anger completely overwhelmed you to the point where you stood up from your seat and began throwing pieces of glassware all over the room, in a violent outburst at what had just happened and the way you felt. None of the guards outside your door dared to come in to check on you and soon enough you fell back to the ground, exhausted from the effort.

As you cried, perhaps for the umpteenth time since you had been married, you thought about how you would never be able to love Prince Aegon. Not even if you tried.

THIRD ACT: PAIN

After months, the inevitable arrived. The truth was that the first time you felt sorrow and anger, but the following times it became more tolerable. Not because it was better, but because you began to get used to it. Aegon didn't change his attitude towards you one bit. You indeed spent more time together, although that didn’t mean that you got along better or that you had begun to have more sympathy for each other.

The only advantage was that you had started to be friends with some people in the palace. Your sister-in-law, to begin with, as well as some of the maids who were in charge of looking after you, as they turned out to be your only company during those days. Those distractions were more than enough for you, considering the situation you were in, and they kept you sane as time went by.

Almost like a punishment from heaven, it seemed that you weren’t pregnant yet, since your biological processes seemed to continue working to the letter. That meant that, unfortunately, you would have to keep trying; when Aegon was lost enough to forget who you were and you had to stand still as a statue to let him loom over you.

You often liked to imagine what your life would have been like if you had stayed in Highgarden. Nobody knew it yet, but there you had found your first love and although it never went beyond a few kisses, you treasured the memory with particular affection. You had always wanted to marry a sweet man who loved and respected you, who would give you your place as a wife and adore you day and night; someone with whom you could feel protected, cared for, but above all happy. You thought, naively, that that boy you had met and who was nothing more than a commoner could have given you that life, but all those possibilities were nothing more than fantasies in which you tried to lock yourself in to feel less miserable with your unpleasant reality.

One night Helaena had invited you to a modest dinner in her company that you couldn't refuse, since none of your husbands were present and some time with friends could clear your mind. You didn't even know where the prince was, although it was expected that he was spending some time in the town with his friends.

“Sometimes I feel sad about our situation,” said the blonde. You were in the privacy of her chambers, not even with the maids present, so confessions like that were allowed “But I am happy that you are my friend, something that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”

“I'm glad to talk to you too,” you smiled sincerely. “You're the best thing I've found around here.”

“My brothers aren't that bad, they're just… well, we've had a hard life. And that's why they behave like that."

“I think there is no justification for being a…” idiot, you wanted to say, but you had to remember that you were in the presence of the princess, “a person who is rude to others. But I guess that happens with royalty, right? They do what they want without consequences”

"I guess so. Kings, princes, the heirs, lords, dukes…”

“Okay, I get it,” you laughed bitterly “It's probably a masculine quality.”

You never thought your sister-in-law would have that kind of humor and to be honest, most of the time she was a comic relief for the situations you two were going through. Sometimes her prophecies scared you, especially the way she phrased them, but you wanted to think that her premonitions would never affect you directly.

When you finally got tired of chatting and the food was finished, you decided to return to your room, so you could have a peaceful night's rest. It was raining outside and thunder echoed in the distance, making the atmosphere slightly gloomy, but at the same time cooling every corner of King's landing.

The novelty of your position was no longer important enough to require you to be escorted by guards twenty-four hours a day, so you were able to slowly walk through all the corridors that led to your sanctuary. It was modest but cute, although not on the level of Aegon’s.

A man was guarding the door and you bowed your head to him to let you pass, which he did without any opposition. Once inside you got rid of your shoes and unbuttoned your corset, not caring that the room was almost in darkness; only the moonlight illuminated from the window. You took a few steps forward and squealed when you discovered that there was another person in the room, sitting at the small table with a drink in his hand. You would have started screaming for help if you hadn't noticed that said intruder had silver hair falling like a curtain over his face.

"Your grace?" you asked cautiously.

It isn’t usual for Aegon to drink in your room, as he preferred other places with more interesting company, and when you didn’t receive an answer you approached slowly. You thought that at best he had simply fallen asleep and at worst he would be dead.

At first his long, wavy hair covered your view of his face, but when he noticed your presence he raised his head and then you could see him. His features became clearer as lightning illuminated him from the outside and for a second you were horrified.

His cheek was red and a trickle of blood was dripping from his nose, however, what surprised you the most was seeing his eyes completely swollen.

“For the seven, I… I'll go call a maester”

“Don't even think about it,” he exclaimed hoarsely, seeing that you were already rushing towards the door.

Your husband didn't sound like his usual angry tone, but rather he seemed... hurt.

You thought for a second about what the appropriate reaction to the situation was. You couldn't leave the room because, in addition to the guards murmuring, it would be impolite to leave him in that state; also, where would you go? If you ignored him, he would probably take it as an insult and he had already made it clear that he didn't want to see someone who could take care of those injuries.

You hated him, it was true, but you weren't an insensitive monster either.

"Who did this to you?"

Aegon was surprised by how soft, even kind, your question sounded and the intoxication gave him some courage to answer.

“My mother and my grandfather. Mostly my mother, my grandfather rather dedicated his efforts to reminding me how useless I am”

You didn't know what to say. You never believed that the queen would be capable of hitting one of her sons like that. You didn't believe it from any mother, actually.

With some trepidation you took one of the chairs and placed it in front of him, expecting him to immediately push you away or ask you to get out of his sight. However, the prince didn't seem to have enough energy to do any of those things.

He had a lost look on his face and tears began to run down his face.

“Nothing… nothing I do pleases her. Neither to her, nor to my grandfather. All the time they are pressuring me, demanding me, yelling at me. Apparently Otto still hopes that my father will name me king, but I've never wanted that. They blame me for drinking all the time and how do they expect them not to? My father cares so little about me and my mother hates me. All his life he has hated me. She does it, my brothers… and so do you. My own wife hates me. Everyone… everyone who knows me does it”

You were silent for a moment.

There were mixed feelings inside you, because you couldn't forget the mistreatment that the man had given you during those months, nor the way he used you for his pleasure. He was right when he said you hated him. However, there was a compassionate part of you, deep down, that felt sorry for the man's state.

“And sometimes I just want to be dead. I just wish all the shit would go away and drowning in alcohol and dying would take away Alicent's problem and allow her to focus her attention on something better”

His gaze lifted and he looked at you with crystallized eyes.

“Maybe you should poison me one day. So your suffering would also end”

“Your highness, I cannot do that”

“But would you like it? Do you hate me enough to wish me dead?”

“Of course not,” you said quickly.

"Liar. You lie like everyone else. You want me dead”

You knew that saying something negative at that moment, in the state he was in, could result in him making some incoherence that you would be blamed for the next morning. So it was best to act cautiously.

“I don't think anyone wants that”

“My mother does. My father, Rhaenyra does it, and so does her stupid new husband…”

“Your grace…” you interrupted him harshly. Listening to him sink into his self-indulgence was too much to bear “You better go to sleep, don't you think? Now you're not thinking clearly, you'll feel better in the morning."

But Aegon seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to anything you had to say to him.

“I guess I just wish someone wouldn't completely detest my existence, you know?”

Aegon had done terrible things to you, of course, but seeing him at that moment made you wonder if all of this was the product of poor parenting and psychological abuse that had been perpetuated for twenty long years. You couldn't say your father loved you, not after what he had done, but at least he hadn't constantly hurt you as the man in front of you had. You knew better than anyone that hate had to be healed with empathy and for a brief moment you felt soft for him.

Once Aegon was a small child, without sins, without accumulated hatred, without evil... and apparently that frightened child hadn’t been completely buried, because it was him who cried inconsolably and saw death as a viable alternative to end that suffering. However, there is no redemption without guilt, right? You don't get to heaven without first repenting.

You stayed silent for a long time, listening to him sob, and when you gathered the courage you spoke:

“Prince, can I be honest with you?”

You had spoken in a low and benevolent voice, while you slid from your chair until you were kneeling in front of him. The boy didn't even want to take advantage of that position for a sexual act, he was simply too tired and drained to think. You placed your hands on his knees and seeing that he nodded, you continued:

“You say you wish someone wouldn't hate you, but have you ever made an effort to do so? Or have you even wondered why people feel that way about you?”

“It's something natural for them”

“I didn't feel it,” you said, honestly. You hated the idea of getting married out of obligation, but if he had been different from the beginning maybe your feelings for him would be too “And you made me feel it. With your contempt, your humiliations, your punishments…”

“If everyone thinks you're a monster, what's the point of contradicting them?”

“And then you prefer to agree with them?”

You were probably taking too many liberties with the prince, but you would never have a chance to talk to him like that again. He was vulnerable and therefore less defensive than normal.

“Every person is responsible for their actions,” you continued. “You can't change how the queen or king feels about you, but you can choose to offer something better to others. If it’s your desire that people not hate you, that won’t happen overnight just because you tell it to. It takes time, effort and above all it requires kindness. If you live regretting the concept that people have of you, without doing anything to change it, then you will live a lifetime of dissatisfaction. If you seriously want someone to feel happy about your existence then pursue that goal, don’t expect it to be granted to you as a divine work.”

A deeper cry began to well up from the man and you almost thought he would lean down for your hug. Still, he didn't.

“I don't know how to be someone else. I have always been this”

“Not always, that's for sure. Water that stagnates rots and becomes a swamp. The one that runs, on the other hand, becomes a river and flows into the ocean.”

You raised the handkerchief you always carried and, in an act of kindness that was also intended to be an offering of peace, you gently wiped the tears and dried blood from his face. Aegon squirmed as he had never experienced that kind of care.

“You just have to ask yourself: what do you choose to be?”

For an endless moment he watched you. His judgment was clouded by drunkenness, but he wondered if he wasn't hallucinating and you were simply the voice of his conscience telling him something he had never wanted to accept.

It was easier to blame others for his mistakes, to justify himself by saying that everything about him was his mother's fault and that if he behaved the way he did it was only a defense mechanism. Aegon had never thought about how his treatment of women was a direct consequence of Alicent's upbringing: if his own mother had hurt him, why wouldn't other women do the same to him? And since he was convinced that they were all going to do it, he preferred to turn them into objects that he could use for his benefit.

He was so drunk and so exhausted from all the crying he had shed that he simply pushed your hand away from his face and stood up from the chair, without saying a word. You, now standing, saw him begin to undress and the first thing you thought was that he would seek to heal his sorrows by having sex with you. However, he only got rid of the essentials and then lay on his stomach on the bed. Without any choice, you took off your clothes for the day, put on a nightgown and also lay down on the mattress to sleep.

You were sure that the next day Aegon wouldn’t remember anything and you weighed the possibility of the whole story repeating itself, in an endless and painful loop for the two of you. And if you were right, it would be a shame if you had to live like this for the rest of your days.

FOURTH ACT: REDEMPTION

“Do you know where Meryna is?” you asked one of the maids who had come in to change your bedding.

“No, your grace”

“I'm starting to get hungry and she still hasn't brought my breakfast,” you exclaimed sadly.

You had woken up a while ago and had gotten dressed to go for a walk after eating, to see if this would cheer you up a little. It had been a few days since Aegon had opened up in the privacy of your room and after that you had barely seen him, much less spoken to him. You believed that everything was due to a matter of pride or even shame for what you had witnessed and you simply didn’t give it importance, because you knew that eventually he would approach you again. You just had to wait for him to want to do it.

Almost as if by summons, the black-haired girl appeared through the door, looking agitated and embarrassed by the delay. Furthermore, she came empty-handed.

"Princess…"

“Didn't you bring breakfast?” you asked, still sounding cordial but slightly surprised.

“I'm very sorry, it's just that Prince Aegon asked me to bring the food to the royal dining room. He is waiting for you there, he told me to come and get you.”

He hadn’t mentioned requiring your presence for any breakfast and, according to you, there were no guests in the palace to accompany. The two women noticed your dismay and Meryna stood waiting for a response.

“Did he tell you why?”

“No, your grace”

"Good. Then tell him I'll be there in a moment."

You only took a few minutes to change your dress, one more suitable for being in the presence of the prince and in case there was a guest you didn't know about. There were no guards at your door so you were able to walk to the dining room by yourself and were surprised to see that only your husband was at the table. He had an expression that you interpreted as a mix of impatience and nerves.

“Oh, you finally arrived. Sit down. You, bring the princess something to drink,” he ordered a maid. He used to call you that in the presence of guests, but it was rare for him to have that courtesy when alone.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

"No. I just thought you might want to have breakfast together.”

You were already sitting next to him, and for a second you watched him with a frown. Had he hit his head somewhere or why was he acting so strange?

“Do you prefer juice or wine, your highness?

"Juice"

“And bring her some strawberries,” Aegon exclaimed.

There was something about the situation that scared you, because you imagined that he wouldn't be treating you so kindly without wanting something in return. But you were already his wife and he did whatever he wanted with you, what more could he want from you?

You looked him up and down, as if searching for some sign, but he looked completely normal. He was wearing one of those full black robes he was used to, with a golden chain with emeralds decorating the hem of his neck and a belt accentuating his figure. The dark circles in his eyes were pronounced, as always, but the look was not that of someone angry; you would even say that he looked somewhat passive, even sleepy.

While you were thinking about all that, you remembered the last conversation you had had with him. You feared that madness had finally exploded in your husband and the food you were about to eat was poisoned, as he had suggested at the time. Perhaps out of courtesy he was waiting for you to take the first bite and, trying to control the trembling in your hands, you took a portion of the cold cuts on your plate to put it in your mouth. Luckily the food didn't taste different and after seeing that the man ate it with the utmost calmness, you assumed that it didn't contain any poison either.

There was freshly baked bread, jam, some cheeses, the aforementioned cold cuts, a variety of fruits, scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and chives, as well as some stuffed buns for dessert. It was a mini banquet and as you ate it you couldn't help but wonder why this show of kindness was due.

Aegon didn't seem to have any intention of talking and you didn't try to force him, not wanting to either. The atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility, one you had not experienced since your wedding day until now, and it was a very different but strangely pleasant feeling.

It was just a couple sharing breakfast time, but for two people who come from such a broken home it felt like a totally new experience.

You continued in silence until most of the things served were finished, leaving only what wasn’t to your palate's liking or that your body was simply no longer able to ingest.

“Do you need anything else, your majesty?”

“Clear this table, we won't eat anymore,” he said to the maid, nonchalantly pointing to the leftovers you had left. Then he looked at you “Satisfied?”

"I am. Everything was delicious”

“I want us to do the same tomorrow. I will send a maid for you, so get ready soon,” he said decisively.

Then he got up from his chair, stretched a little, and left the room without saying anything else to you.

You didn't see your husband the rest of the day, but the next morning he kept his promise without fail. Although the breakfast menu was different the routine was the same and again it made you wonder what the reason for it was.

The next day he also requested your presence for breakfast and you concluded that he intended to make it a habit. For the rest of the morning you were supposed to dedicate yourself to your activities, but after a week of following that routine Aegon informed you that he had other plans for you.

“I want you to come with me for a walk.”

"To the exterior?"

"Yeah. I have training with Ser Criston but I don't wish to attend, so you will be my excuse. I'll tell him that the princess wanted to go for a walk and that I couldn't let her go alone."

He was telling you that lie almost like a childish prank and you would swear he was about to smile.

“Huh, okay. If you want it, we will”

You were still confused by his actions, because in all the time you had been there it was the first time he treated you decently. You didn't know if he was still drinking in large quantities, but at least when he went to sleep he no longer reeked of liquor in the same way. And all that week he hadn't forced you to have sex with him.

What had motivated the prince to change his way of behaving towards you?

"Do you want to go to the beach? I will order a couple of horses to be saddled for us” he exclaimed when you had already left the dining room.

You couldn't refuse to go to the bay, because in your entire life you had never seen the ocean and your curiosity was greater than any other feeling. Besides, you loved horses, and being with them might even make you feel better.

Aegon did as he told you and soon enough you were in the stable. He had ordered a beautiful white mare for you, with a silver mane the color of your husband's hair and a formidable build.

You approached to pet the animal, carefully, and tensed completely when you felt another body behind yours. Until that moment you hadn't realized how warm your husband was.

“She's pretty, right?”

His voice sounded at your ear level, as he had also reached out to touch Frostfire’s hair.

"She is"

“I guess you know how to ride,” he muttered under his breath and you let out an offended sigh.

“Of course I do. Highgarden is the heart of the chivalry of the seven kingdoms”

After saying that you turned your head just a little and met his gaze, indigo eyes with hints of lilac looking at you carefully. You could feel his breath against yours and at that closeness your cheeks had already turned red involuntarily.

He separated from you and then went to choose his horse, a black thoroughbred with beautiful braids, to get on it and ask the guards to open the door for you. You almost managed to sneak away, but Ser Criston stopped the two of you just before you could do so, claiming that he had a scheduled practice with the prince.

“I'm taking my wife to Blackwater, she hasn't had a chance to visit since her arrival.”

“But your grace, your father…”

“We will continue with training later, Ser Criston,” he said firmly.

“Will you go to Blackwater without an escort?”

“I will”

"That's impossible"

“Don't worry, I don't want to be accompanied. Just rest for now.”

“But you are the prince.”

"Exactly. I am the prince and I want my orders to be respected."

The boy was a smug son of a bitch when he put his mind to it, just like now. The man had no choice but to obey the words and then the two of you were able to leave. You could get there on foot, but Aegon had felt like riding and had wanted an alternative to quickly escape if something went wrong.

You walked along a path that still belonged to the Red Keep grounds, so there was no great danger of being attacked along the way, and you soon reached the bay. It was even more beautiful up close and as soon as you got off the mare you forgot any courtesy towards your husband, as you rushed towards the shore to watch the waves crash. Your pumps and dress were soaked when the water reached your calves, but it didn't bother you too much because you were happy for the reason.

“Have you never been to the ocean?”

“I'm afraid not, your grace. There was never any business that required me to be on the coast of The Reach and I have always lived surrounded by hills and forests. I had seen some rivers, but…”

Before you could continue your story you staggered because of a wave and to avoid falling you tried to hold on to whatever was within reach, which turned out to be the man next to you. He supported you from the elbows with his strong arms.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. For the first time in your presence, he had laughed “But we should get away from the shore. I wouldn't want to take you back to the castle all soaked”

You heeded the boy's advice and, still leaning on him, walked towards the sand. The sky was slightly cloudy, so the weather was perfect for walking around without any discomfort.

“I've never visited Highgarden, is it as impressive as rumored?” he asked, as he began to walk in the opposite direction of the Red Keep.

Although you never believed that the prince would be interested in such things, you began to talk to him about your hometown with particular emotion. You told him about his surroundings, about the castle and you also told in greater detail the gardens that once belonged to you and were full of golden roses, as was the emblem of your house.

You were surprised by how attentive the boy was to everything you had to say to him and for the first time since your arrival, you didn't feel like a stranger in your own skin. Talking about your home was like remembering a part of yourself, as if you were showing him your insides through stories of the beautiful hills where you had ridden so many times.

“Everything sounds wonderful,” he concluded. The sea breeze had already ruffled both of your hair and he took advantage of this to brush a strand out of your face “Someday I should go visit it”

“Yes, maybe you would like that” you exclaimed smiling. You had come too far and it was time to walk back, towards where you had left Frostfire and Moonshadow tied up “Your grace, may I ask you a question?”

"Yeah"

You opened your mouth to ask him why he was doing all that and why he had suddenly started showing so much interest in you. You wanted to know the reason for his unexpected kindness and his abstinence from activities that weren’t very pleasant for you. But before you could speak, you took a moment to observe him. His skin looked paler in the light outside and his silver hair waved in the wind, however, what caught your attention the most was the serene expression on his face.

Although you couldn't say that you knew Aegon, the time you had lived together had shown you that his personality was extremely challenging. If you pointed out that he was being nicer to you and questioned him about it, he would most likely revert to his old behavior towards you simply on a whim. So no, you couldn't ask him about anything or you'd ruin the minuscule part of a good relationship you had managed to build.

“I was thinking... Do you think we can one day bring golden roses to the royal gardens? Green and gold are part of your emblem too and that would beautify the place. I could take care of them, if you want.”

“That's a good idea,” he exclaimed happily. You had already turned around to return and you calculated that it must be after noon “I will order them to be brought in as soon as possible, in the hope that the hot weather at King's landing will not ruin them”

“I hope not,” you said, although a little less enthusiastic than before.

You had been lost in thought after the appearance of that question that you did not verbalize and suddenly Aegon feared that he had made some mistake. You walked a few meters in silence, until this state was unbearable for his majesty and he stopped you by holding your shoulders. You were about to ask what had happened when he pulled you against his lips, stealing your breath. It was still a rough kiss, but this time less desperate than before. His hands went down to your waist and held you to his body until there wasn’t even a centimeter of distance left, with your belly touching the heat of his stomach.

“Still no signs that you are pregnant?”

You thought that, perhaps, your answer was in that question and that the only thing the man wanted was to convince you to hurry up the matter of producing an heir.

“I'm sorry to say no. It's very unfortunate."

“We'll have to keep trying,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if he wanted to downplay the matter “Mother insists on it.”

“Has your mother always been like this to you?”

"What are you talking about?"

“It's just… she seems to have everything under control all the time.”

You couldn't be further from the truth and rather than describing it that way Aegon would have said that she was controlling. She wanted to have things under control, but she couldn't and as an example was the eldest prince himself, whom she had never been able to persuade to behave the way he did.

“Well, she is the queen. I guess that's how she must be” he exclaimed without much encouragement. He was still holding you by the waist and was surprised by how intimate that position was. “But we better get back, they must be wondering where we are”

“Maybe they even think I ran away, taking advantage of the fact that you weren't there to watch me,” you joked.

"Would you do it?"

"Do what?"

“Run away”

You looked at the man, incredulous, because it was stupid to think that if you were planning to run away you would just tell him like that. That was the characteristic of it, that it was surprising and hidden.

“Why would I do, your grace?”

“Maybe because I'm a bad husband,” he said quietly. You weren't understanding the game Aegon was playing and it was driving you crazy.

“I wouldn't dare do it. I have nowhere to go and I know I couldn't even get through the doors without your majesty noticing,” you replied.

The prince didn’t want pragmatic reasons like that, but rather his question was more aimed at whether it was your will to abandon him.

Against all odds a couple of raindrops began to fall and very soon a storm had already brewed over your head. It was useless to run, but you did it anyway and Aegon held your hand to prevent either of you from falling due to a trip. Somewhere along the way you lost one of your pumps and at this you began to laugh and he, infected by your joy, did the same. It amused you greatly to think of the face the queen would make when she saw you enter the castle, with her eldest son soaked from head to toe and your clothing incomplete. But you also laughed from the joy of feeling so alive in that moment. You felt like a girl playing in the rain and despite the coldness of the falling water, you felt a certain warmth traveling from the tips of your fingers to your chest.

Although he was sure that you were an excellent rider, your husband insisted on taking you on his own horse to avoid any accidents and you agreed without complaint. His body sheltered you all the way to the Red Keep and once there, under the roof, he helped you down from the chair with extreme care. You didn't think he was that strong until you felt him grab your waist and place you on the floor effortlessly.

“Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you, or you will catch a cold,” he said, putting on your back a cloak he had found hanging on one of the walls.

There was the hint of a smile on his face and seeing him behave like this towards you made you feel weird. You almost felt like he was trying to be affectionate with you, even though he wasn't quite succeeding.

“You should do the same,” you exclaimed softly.

Motivated by the kind moment you had shared, you reached out to brush away the wet hair that had stuck to his face and he shivered at your touch. It was the first time you touched him that way, out of conviction and with care.

“Your majesty, Lord Hand is looking for you. He says he needs to talk to you urgently."

“My grandfather,” he sighed at you, as if wanting to apologize for the words the guard behind you had just said.

He gave the man Moonshadow's reins and then explained that someone had to go get the horse you had left in the bay, so you assumed your presence there was no longer necessary. You were about to leave when he stopped you, grabbing your arm somewhat roughly and looking at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher.

“I'll go to your room tonight,” he informed.

You felt a little disappointed by the reality of having to share a bed with him, after so long without having done so, but you were grateful that he was at least warning you.

You nodded your goodbyes and he did the same, forming an unspoken agreement. You thought maybe that was why he had been polite to you, so he could get back under your bed sheets. But there was no point in doing it, he wasn't courting you to win your hand, but you were already his wife and he had made it very clear that he could do with you whatever he wanted.

Still a little confused, you were escorted to your bedroom, where you hoped that a tub with hot water and essences would be enough to appease all those doubts that were growing in you.

FIFTH ACT: LOVE

At some point Aegon would get tired of all this, you were sure. But while that moment arrived, you were thoroughly enjoying all kinds of attention you received from your husband. He kept his promise to bring golden roses for the gardens and although the queen wasn’t very happy, in the end they adorned some of the busiest sections of the place. You took that as an act of good faith, so you thought that maybe the thought of repaying him for some of the decency he was showing you wouldn't kill you.

There wasn’t a single breakfast that you skipped, except when the prince was required for political matters or had to travel. You were too proud to admit that you had begun to genuinely enjoy his company, as you still had some distrust due to how temperamental the man was. It wasn't all sunshine and flowers, as the young man still had some outbursts that made you fear him and reminded you that this was who you were really talking to.

His drinking habits hadn’t changed much, since although he was able to handle it during the first week after that period, it was inevitable that he would go back to his old ways and drink an entire jug of wine in a couple of minutes. With sex it was the same, because he continued to fuck you without signs of care and regularly when he was lost in drink. It amused you to think that perhaps that was the reason why you still didn't carry a child in your womb; that he was too drunk when you tried to be of any use.

However, as your relationship strengthened you could notice slight (you almost swore they were imaginary) changes when having sex. He was no longer as rough towards your body as before and tried to thrust into you a little slower, as if he wanted to lengthen the moment and not just unload into you and sleep like a baby after that. Maybe it was just that the drink made him lethargic, but he had even started seeking your lips in the middle of the act or kissing everything within reach of the skin on your neck. You didn't intend to spend much time analyzing his behavior because for you it already represented a victory that he had stopped hurting you after every time you had sex and, honestly, you didn't want to inquire about it. Once again you thought it was more prudent not to question the prince and simply let him continue behaving that way.

Until one night, things looked different for you.

When you heard your husband open the door, quite late at night, and saw him approach your bed, you knew that the same dynamic of nighttime visits would take place. Aegon, already hard as a rock, would kiss you a few times, undress, order you to undress, and then position on top of you to satisfy himself. Needless to say, under the confidence that being in the dark gave you and your husband's lack of interest, you looked away or concentrated on something else while your martyrdom was carried out. He would finish, lie naked next to you, and then sleep soundly with no memory the next morning of what had happened.

Aegon called your name, just to check that you were awake or otherwise wake you up, and you were surprised to hear that his voice sounded quite normal. He wasn't slurring his words like usual.

"Your grace?" you called back, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him.

He did what was expected and as soon as he was far enough away, he started kissing you. You must have known something was wrong from that first moment, when he grabbed your cheek with his wide hand and offered you the most passionate kiss you had ever had. It is reiterated that Aegon was always somewhat careless in intimacy, but this first contact hadn’t felt as impatient as others, but rather was something more careful and planned.

Only one other man had kissed you like that in your life and although the feeling brewing in your chest must have been pleasant, the truth was that it wasn't. You had endured too much abuse from the white-haired man so your body didn't know how to react otherwise. That's why when he continued kissing you for longer than usual and then laid you down meekly, you couldn't do anything but tense uncomfortably.

You were only in your nightgown so there wasn't much difficulty in sliding the straps to the side, almost exposing your tits. Suddenly Aegon lowered his kisses to your neck, where his stubble scratched your skin. Knowing that he would be busy in that area, you turned your head away to focus your gaze on a tapestry on the wall. However, you got a surprise when you felt the prince move away from you and then a bigger one when he took your face between his fingers, placing his index finger and thumb on each of your cheeks to force you to look at him. At first you thought there was anger in his eyes, but after looking at them for a second more you concluded that the feeling was more like that of someone insulted. And why? you asked yourself. What had you done that had offended the prince?

“Why are you looking away?”

His question had a certain aggressive tone, but, at the same time, he sounded hurt. With that you confirmed that he wasn’t drunk or that, if he was, he had drunk just enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. You couldn't tell the way your eyes looked at him, but Aegon interpreted your expression as one of disdain.

Unbeknownst to you, he had his own whirlwind of feelings inside him, one that was driving him crazy and causing him to look you up and down while still holding you. He’d never been like this on another night, so you were at the mercy of knowing how good or bad that would turn out.

Suddenly he seemed upset, you would even say disgusted, and surprisingly stood up from his position. The cold air hit you where he had been before and you sat on the bed to watch him, completely confused by the way he was behaving.

"What's going on…?"

“You don't want this,” he spoke firmly. It was obvious that you didn't want to and you wondered how he had barely realized it. “Not like that… I… no. Not this way"

His babbling confused you even more and when you saw him walk away with exaggerated steps until he left through the door, you couldn't help but feel totally amazed.

What was the reason for what your husband had just done?

The feeling of being abandoned was more hopeless than having him fuck you would have been, and for a moment you even felt ashamed. Maybe he didn't like you anymore or he would just go and cure his frustration in the bed of a woman you didn't know.

He had watched you very strangely and the whole scene wasn't like him. You even pinched yourself just to check that it wasn't some strange dream, getting a moan of pain in response to your question. You thought that perhaps you were acting impulsively, but barely a minute later you put on a green robe over your nightgown and headed towards the door, still not knowing exactly what you were going to do.

“Where are you going, your grace?” the guard on duty asked, putting his voluptuous body in your way.

“Prince Aegon, do you know where he went?”

“In that direction, your majesty. But I'm afraid I must recommend that you return to your room, it is dangerous to walk around the palace at this time."

“But I wish to see my husband,” you said firmly.

The man let out a sigh and then slid to the side of the hallway, leaving you a clear path. Even so, when you started walking you felt his footsteps following you because he probably wanted to make sure that something didn't happen to you. You walked for a while, but you knew it was useless when all you found were locked doors that you couldn't knock on and that you couldn't open either. If Aegon was in any of those rooms, you wouldn't know it. Defeated, you returned to your room and, as expected, found it empty again.

The next morning there wasn’t a single word about that event, but it was present in your mind throughout the day. You had already lived with him enough to realize that something was bothering him, however, upon noticing that he was less talkative during your usual breakfast, you decided to give him time.

You were about to leave the table when he stopped you, asking you to take your seat again and looking at you seriously.

“I have to travel for a couple of weeks,” he informed you. You were surprised to hear that he almost sounded sad “The king is required on some business and since my father can no longer travel, I will have to do it.”

“I hope the entire journey is favorable and the visit profitable, your grace,” you exclaimed cordially. However, your husband didn’t seem pleased with it.

One of his hands slid to hold yours, with a strength that surprised you. There was urgency in his grip, like he needed to hold on to something.

“Is that all you have to say?”

A couple of wrinkles appeared on your brow, as you clearly weren't understanding what he expected of you. Accompanying him would be reckless and you didn't know if he wanted you to keep him there at King's landing.

During those last months something had changed in the man's face, because those eyes surrounded by purple marks no longer saw you with the same aversion as the first time. And it disheartened Aegon that his attempts to please you were yielding no apparent fruit. He was giving you time, effort, and being kind to you like you had said was necessary, but he still couldn't help but feel that you still considered him a stranger.

He had been patient because he thought that, as time went by, you would begin to seek him out or not shy away from his touch. Aegon cared a lot about the physical, so every time he sneaked into your room he did so with the hope that you would welcome him with open arms and give yourself to him willingly. Countless nights he waited in his own room for you to show up to keep him warm and love him throughout the night. But it never happened and a part of him couldn't blame you either.

However, he was already tired of it. He wanted to make it clear to you that he not only wanted to give, but also receive. But forcing you to do anything would ruin everything; you had to want it.

“Have I said something that offended you, prince?”

“I just thought you would say you were going to miss me”

A laugh echoed in your throat at those words and for a second Aegon felt hurt, like you were mocking you. He was going to let go of your hand and walk away, insulted, but you squeezed his hand harder as a sign that you didn't want him to do that.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just didn't think that if I harbored feelings of that kind they would be of interest to your majesty."

“Do you miss me when you don't see me?” he asked now, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of you “Or are you glad to have me away?”

You didn't know what those direct questions were about, because you didn't expect that a man like him would be plagued by uncertainty about knowing the answers.

“Not at all. I will always be willing to be with you whenever you want.”

“And you want to be with me?” he insisted.

“I think that what I want is not important”

“But I'm trying to make it so. I thought I was making it clear enough,”

He was angry, but not for the reasons you might think. It frustrated him that he was trying hard to improve and that your eyes continued to see him like that first time. Too many people were already observing him like that and he thought that, perhaps, since you were the most recent to do it, you could also be the first in whom he could manage to modify it.

You, however, were still too confused by his signs. Sometimes his attitude didn’t coincide with the intentions he had, since antipathy was often the only emotion with which he allowed himself to express and feel, accustomed to what he received during all his years of life.

All those months of effort were a direct product of the talk you had had with him, of that moment of weakness in which, instead of ignoring him like everyone else did, you had stayed with him. Aegon was aware that the treatment towards you was sometimes inhumane and he couldn’t explain how despite this you had wiped away his tears with such care, expressing nothing more than an act of integrity. Sometimes he even just imposed things on you to see if he could push you to the limit and he was surprised to see that you endured everything with honor and decency. You were good, something he could never be.

He didn't want to hear anything more and then let go of your hand, feeling rejected again.

"Majesty…"

"It's getting late. I have to go feed Sunfyre so he can endure the trip.”

“Will you travel by dragon?”

“How else would a Targaryen do it?” expressed obviously.

You were silent for a moment and then he stood up, ready to fulfill his obligations. In the afternoon he had already left, without emotional goodbyes or anything like that.

You had those weeks alone to reflect on everything that had been happening. You firmly believed that a cruel and evil person would always be that way, even if they hid it, because humans can’t change from one day to the next. Still, you had to allow Aegon the courtesy of admitting that he wasn't being a complete jerk lately.

You tried to think of any unpleasant moments with him during that week and although you found a couple, you realized that they had all been because of minor arguments or simply that one of the two of you had woken up in a bad mood. The hatred for the boy had been so ingrained in you that now it was difficult to decipher how much of it was due to things that were really happening and how much of it was a resentment carried from the past, at the beginning of that harmful relationship that existed between you.

He was no longer a mean man to you, he just sometimes had those logical slips for anyone who has never been taught to love. He didn't know how to care for you, how to talk to you, or even how to touch you properly. He had always existed alone and could still be seen reflected in his incessant desire for you to be the one to look for him, in his longing to know that you would miss him during his absence and in wanting you to look forward to his return. He wanted you to pay attention to him. He needed it.

One fine afternoon the vision of Sunfyre finally appeared in the bright blue of the sky, with you watching from the huge window of your room. He looked majestic, flying deftly and confidently with the rider above him grinning from ear to ear. Aegon had once confessed to you that he loved to fly on his dragon and he spoke about it with a devotion that completely touched you.

You thought about going to look for him, grateful that he had returned, but you were afraid that your presence would bother him or, in that case, that there would be murmurs about you. You didn't want to seem like a desperate wife so you thought it would be best to look for him at dinner time and in case he wanted to see you before, you stayed in your room all afternoon.

Once night fell, you put on one of your prettiest dresses and went to the royal dining room hoping to find him there, but it was in vain. Luckily one of the cooks had seen him and he told you that he was in his room, since he had ordered that something to eat and drink be brought there.

Determined, you made your way there and took a moment before entering. You hoped that the time away from King's landing had not hardened your lover's character, because it would be a shame to waste what you had built for some time and have to start over, or not do it at all, which would be even worse. Since there were no guards at the door, you were able to push the wood without any hindrance and then you saw it.

Aegon was sitting near the fireplace, his back to the entrance and leaning against a table that had a jug that you assumed was full (or not so full anymore) of wine. When he heard your footsteps he turned slightly and when he saw you, he kept a serene expression on his face.

“Hey,” he exclaimed quietly.

“The maids informed me that you were here” you explained and he nodded.

You noticed that he no longer wore his black doublet with the Targaryen emblem, he only kept the breeches of the same color and a mint-colored linen shirt that left part of his chest exposed. His white hair had some natural curls that fell delicately over her shoulders.

“Yeah. I don't feel like seeing my parents.”

“I understand” you assumed that if he hadn't wanted to see you he wouldn't have hesitated to tell you, so you approached him. Undecided whether you should greet him with a kiss or just stay to the side, you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned a little to look at him “How was the trip?”

“It was good,” he responded with reluctance. “But my body feels completely crushed”

“Hm. It shows” you whispered, amused. The tension in his body was palpable and that's why you began to massage him, pressing hard just where he needed it. Aegon, feeling your skilled hands doing this, let out a satisfied grunt and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

Doing that wasn’t something you had planned when you went there, it had only happened out of the heat of the moment and the reality that your husband's body was taking its toll on him for the hours he had spent riding his dragon.

With each passing second Aegon's burden felt lighter and lighter, wondering where you had learned those movements and how your hands were strong enough to exert the right pressure.

"Feel better?" you asked kindly and he nodded immediately, eyes still closed.

Suddenly one of your hands slid lower, towards his chest, to caress him. This time your fingers were light as feathers, sending an electrical current up and down the man's spine under your touch. No whore had ever touched him like that, with that force and at the same time so delicately.

But it was clear that you were not a whore. You were his wife.

“Come here,” he said firmly, reaching out to wrap his hand around your wrist and pulling you directly into his lap.

It was extremely painful to admit that he had missed you. He was physically frustrated because he hadn't dared to take any other woman in your absence. It had been a long time since he had frequented pleasure houses, since his appetite was awakened only by being with you.

What the hell had you done to him?

“The cook told me that you ordered some food, but I only see wine around here. Have you already eaten anything?”

“Mhmm,” he said absently. Your legs dangled to the side and one of his hands came up to your face, brushing your loose hair away from it. The other one surrounded you until it planted itself firmly on your belly. “Still no signs of anything?”

“Honestly, I don't know. The maesters can’t say with certainty… I am sorry”

“What if you are sterile?” the mere possibility of it made you nervous and you wondered what your fate would be if that was the case. Aegon didn't look so worried “What a disappointment for Alicent.”

You didn't know how to take that, because on the one hand it could be that your husband was amused by the irony of the matter and on the other hand it was that he would never have wanted to have children with you. For a moment you thought that the tranquility of the environment had been fragmented by this, but it turned out that the man couldn't care less. He was completely focused on your lips, almost as if hypnotized.

“I trust that is not the case, your grace. Just… it was a streak of bad luck.”

“I guess so,” he murmured nonchalantly. He was still watching your mouth when you spoke “But now I don’t care much about that.”

He carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and brought you closer to shorten the distance, giving you an eager kiss that took your breath away. The hand that was on your waist pulled you closer to his body, leaving practically no separation between you and him. You could feel the desperation on his lips and in his touch, like he was eager to make you his. And at the same time, he was kissing you like he had never done before: it was sweet, yearning, passionate. You felt like he really wanted you.

He separated from you so you could breathe and, as best he could, he maneuvered to lift your body until he placed you on the table, where it was easier for him to place himself in the space between your legs. You instinctively placed your hands around his neck and wrapped one of your legs around his body.

“I longed for you. These weeks” you finally confessed. You heard him, and felt him, breathe more erratically at this because your words had fallen on him with the force of an axe.

From there, Aegon acted solely driven by the feeling of knowing that you had wanted to see him as much as he had wanted to see you.

His entire body leaned over you to kiss you, with the same urgency as at the beginning. While he did that he grabbed you by the lower back, pulling you until your body collided with his crotch which, if it wasn't already hard, wouldn't take long.

His kisses were clumsy due to urgency and after a while he moved away from your mouth to descend to your neck. Sometimes he left a kiss or two, at most, but this time he seemed to want to take his time. His tongue ran all over your skin, freshly washed, and he spread caresses without restraint. Every place the dragon's lips touched lit up with fire and his hips grinding against you weren't doing much for the blush on your cheeks. Inevitably you began to sigh from so many stimuli, right at the level of his ear, which only motivated him to continue.

As best he could he pulled the laces on the back of your dress and it didn't take long to get rid of the restraints. He slid one of your sleeves over your shoulder to begin kissing that section, the same way he had done with your neck. An indiscreet moan escaped you as your husband bit into your soft flesh and you could feel him smile against your skin.

“You're mine, right?” he sighed brokenly. You had tilted your head back to give him more space and he took the opportunity to lower the entire torso of your dress. “Only mine…”

With the same devotion he took care of your breasts and you couldn't do anything but continue alternating between sighs and some muffled moans. You could feel how he longed for you, eager to be able to kiss every inch of your skin even if it took him the entire night. Suddenly your body had become a temple, an object worthy of worship. The prince continued to distribute kisses that each time descended towards your belly, until with one hand he violently threw everything that was on the table and you ended up lying completely on it. Then he walked away.

You were about to ask what had happened when he took care of taking off your ballerina flats and throwing them somewhere far away in the room, only to stretch your leg up to the height of his torso to start kissing it. No one, not even him, had ever done that to you, so it was natural for you to be dismayed. His kisses moved quickly up your thigh and once he did that, he dropped to his knees in front of you. The skirt of your dress blocked your view and when you tried to get up something made you scream. Aegon had bitten into the tender flesh of your thighs, quite close to your crotch and with more force than he had hit your shoulder. You could only imagine his face when he carefully licked the mark he had surely left on you, once again making your chest exhale a moan.

What he did next and the sensation it caused, you could never have even imagined. That mouth, which most of the time was used for ironic puns and sloppy kisses, was now taking expert care of all of your pussy. Aegon was devouring you completely, touching just where it was necessary to make you squirm on the table. He wasn't careful at all; it was a touch hungry and extremely dirty.

You wanted to hold on as much as you could to keep yourself attached to reality, but it was difficult with your husband eating you like that. One of his arms wrapped around your leg and placed it over his shoulder, probably to give him better access. You had never moaned like that in his presence and it only made him harder and harder beneath the tight fabric of his breeches.

The pleasure was barely getting to your head when he stopped and a dissatisfied grunt escaped you shamelessly. Aegon laughed unabashedly at this, pleased at the control he had gained over you, and then went up again to kiss you hungrily. You couldn't do anything but welcome his salty lips and you moaned against him as he leaned against your body and you could feel his crotch, not knowing if it was your own wetness or his that was present.

He held you from behind and, without stopping kissing you, carried you until he placed you on the bed. You considered it somewhat unfair that your husband already had you trembling beneath him and still hadn't taken off a single piece of clothing, but your complaints were silenced when he hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head and took off his breeches in record time. In the same way, he pulled your dress towards your legs so that a second later it ended up on the floor, along with everything else.

He knelt down on the mattress and spread your legs roughly, lining himself up with your entrance. He began to rub the tip of his member up and down your already wet center and that did nothing but drive you crazy again.

When a delicate, pleading, «please» escaped your swollen lips, Aegon knew it was more stimulating to have you begging for him than to worry about only satisfying himself.

He played with you for a while longer, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of his delicate, pretty wife vibrating from having him close, until he finally plunged into you. For the first time there was enough wetness in you that the stroke felt satisfying rather than painful and both of you let out a delicious moan.

He set the pace, slow at first, but after a while his movements became more desperate. He wanted to get to the core of you, he wanted to fill you completely so you knew that only he could make you feel that way. When his body began to ache he leaned towards you, resting each of his arms on the side of your head and looking directly at you. You had stopped looking away from him, now you were looking at him with your mouth open with pleasure, your eyes watery and your pupils dilated on your completely flushed cheeks.

“Aegon,” you sobbed pathetically, clouded by everything you were experiencing and proving that it wasn't long before you reached your orgasm.

You had never called him by his name. You always referred to him as «your grace», «prince» or «husband», at best. So hearing his name come out of your lips like that, under those circumstances, was too much for him to bear.

Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, one of his hands moved down to rest his thumb on your clit and once there he began to make erratic circles. You closed your eyes, completely seized by pleasure and a couple more thrusts were enough to make you lose the battle. Hearing your whimpers, combined with the way your walls squeezed him, was enough to make him cum too. With trembling legs you felt the warm liquid filling you and, for the first time, it was comforting.

When Aegon plopped down next to you, you immediately missed his body warmth. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch the breath that the orgasm had taken from you. You could clearly feel your heartbeat bouncing off your bare chest and the stinging sensation coming from your crotch and running through your entire body was something you could get used to. Your hair had stuck to your face from the sweat and not to mention your lips, which you felt were burning from your husband's attention.

Aegon had already had many orgasms in his life so this time he decided to turn his gaze a little to see you enjoying yours. The mere idea that he was responsible for your condition made him completely shake.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted out suddenly. You thought he had heard wrong because of the rush, but from the way he was smiling at you, you highly doubted it. “Just like that”

“Like what?”

“Freshly fucked. Well fucked” he corrected himself.

A laugh bubbled up from within you and you blushed even more, if that was possible, perhaps from the nerves and elation of what had just happened. The man stood up a little from his seat and leaned down to kiss you, although this time he did it with a calm and affection that you never thought you would see in him. It was just that he couldn't deny it anymore; from that moment on he would become an open book for you, where you could see all his feelings, desires and fears.

“I don't know why you're doing this,” you suddenly murmured and Aegon pulled away enough to look at you “And I don't know why you've been acting like this these past few months. But I like it. I think it's a good time for you to know."

“You said I could choose who I am,” he said meekly. One of his hands grabbed your chin and stole another fleeting kiss from you. “I haven't forgotten, every word is present in my head. It's just... sometimes it's hard. And I thought I would have a better chance with you, even with the things I did to you when we got married”

You smiled at him and were happy to know that the change in his behavior was because of the talk you once had with him. If he continued like this, ignoring the demons inside him and trying to be better, then your marriage had a chance to become more than just a condemnation.

Driven by the pleasant feeling growing in your chest you reached out towards him to reward him with a kiss. The man's breath hitched when you pushed him to the side and reversed roles, now you being the one pampering him while he was lying down. There was a playful glint in your husband's eyes as you looked at him.

“Do you know this is the first time you kissed me?” he exhaled softly.

You couldn't believe that was possible and for a few seconds you tried to remember so you could contradict him. But every time you remembered you realized that it was always him who initiated the contact to which you only responded, so, effectively, it was the first kiss you gave him out of conviction.

Maybe it was an omen that something good was coming.

Still happy with how everything had turned out, you snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest while he hugged you and threw a sheet over your bodies. You planted a hand on his bare skin and began drumming your fingers, alternating with small circles made with the greatest delicacy.

You were silent for a long time, you even thought that your husband had fallen asleep until you heard him speak again:

“It's also the first time I'm doing this.”

“Are you talking about sex, your grace?”

“No, I'm talking about cuddling,” he confessed softly, his hand caressing your back the same way you did with him, “And don't call me your majesty anymore. I am Aegon. Or my prince, at any rate. But my is important”

With the affection worthy of a wife, you raised your head to place a kiss on his cheek and assured him that from now on you would call him that in the privacy of your chambers.

Suddenly, after another moment of silence, Aegon pulled you close to him as if afraid you were going to suddenly evaporate. Intending to calm his fears, you climbed until you were on top of his body, hiding your head in his neck so that the distance became minimal.

There was silence for another couple of minutes.

“Do you think I can ever be forgiven?”

Apparently the atmosphere of the moment had managed to soften the boy's heart.

“We can all be absolved, Aegon.”

"And you?"

"Me what?"

“Do you think you can ever love me?” you were quiet for a second, thinking about your response. Then, he added “Or could you at least try? It would be a nice detail for me. No one has ever done it before.”

Not wanting to ruin the mood with a false word you decided to kiss his neck gently and that was enough of an answer for him. He would have to trust in your goodwill and that he could continue to restrain his impulses to keep this newly discovered gem that was his wife. With some luck you could even be that person he prayed for so much all his life, one with whom he could feel safe.

The slowing of the man's breathing revealed to you that he had already fallen asleep and you discovered that it seemed not so bad to find yourself in that position, sheltered by your lover's arms.

Under that scenario, the idea of eventually loving Prince Aegon Targaryen no longer sounded so far-fetched.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x fem!reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon targaryen #aegon x you #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen fic #aegon ii targaryen

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nicksolemnlyswears · 3 months

Text

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

(HAELENA’S TURN)

STAY WITH US

pairing: helaena targaryen x targaryen! reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader

word count: ~3k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, light cursing, angsty helaena, one single mention of sex. dont @ me if you find a haelena instead of a helaena. targaryen names are much too complicated for my brain

a/n: thank you guys for all the love on aegon's oneshot. i was bouncing on the walls when i saw how much love it received and that some people agree with me in terms of alicent being a shit mom. that being said you dont really have to read the first part to read this. it works as a stand alone although it is a continuation.

although the inspiration to write these oneshots was the death of a child i love how soft and comforting they've come out. it's about sympathizing and giving these characters the love they deserve.

helaena deserves so much love even more than aegon. she's an innocent in all of this trapped in the midst of war. hell even rhaenyra agrees and scolded daemon for his misdoings.

im thinking of writing one last part where it is all three of them together: reader, aegon and helaena. i'm leaning towards smut but i never know what my brain will come up with. if you’d rather have some more domestic fluffy stuff let me know and that can be arranged!

enjoy!

Your fingers close around your skirts as you fly up the stairs to Helaena's bed chambers. One of her maids leads the way. The young girl sought you out as you readied for bed, rambling about how Queen Helaena was in distress. Without further question, you slipped on your robe and followed her.

The Queen has not been well since the night her child was brutally taken from her. She continues to live day by day in constant suffering as her mind has a difficult time coming to terms with that night's events.

As it happens, saying Helaena is 'not well' is an understatement.

She might've been 'not well' after the fact, but the funeral proceedings broke the last thread of sense she was holding onto. If anyone is to blame, it is the Dowager Queen who forced her to attend and Otto Hightower who was the 'mastermind' behind it all.

It was torture to hear the people of Kings Landing shouting for her, screaming vile words about Rhaenyra, and offering condolences about a subject they barely knew a thing about.

Most had never seen the young Prince; his cold body and the gold thread around his neck were their first glimpses of him. They gasped and awed at her child as if he were a spectacle while she had no choice but to sit and watch with composure.

It is only natural she would fall apart under the pressure of such ill-conceived plans. Her overthinking mind couldn't handle it any longer when the carriage got stuck. Her thoughts coming up with the most of wicked scenarios. She had to run.

Then, there is Jaehaera, who continues to ask for her twin brother. The poor girl has never spent a day apart from him since they were conceived. It is difficult for Helaena to hear Jaehaera constantly ask where he is and when he will return. It's a never ending reminder of her loss.

Besides, how is she to explain death to a child when Helaena herself has not accepted it.

The newly assigned guard sworn to protect the Queen opens the door for you as soon as you round the corner. His anticipation worries you to no end, and you fear what lies past those doors.

Maids surround Helaena, attempting to comfort her. She screams at them to let her be, but they persist. The maids mean well. Helaena is clearly distressed, yet they don't seem to realize it's because of their overbearing presence.

The young Queen swats them away. Her fingers thread through her messy hair as she seeks an escape, and sobs rake through her slender body until she collapses on her knees. Her lips move in unreadable murmurs in between each yell.

Helaena barely appears like herself. Dark purple circles line her under eyes, and her hair is unbrushed and knotted. Her signature plump cheeks have hollowed out, indicating that she has lost weight.

"Please," Helaena cries to no one in particular, recoiling from their touch.

You barrel through the maids and kneel on the floor at an arms length from Helaena. "'Laena?" you softly call to get her to look at you, knowing that if you even attempt to touch her, she will shy away.

At the recognition of your voice, Helaena's face whips up. She falls into your arms, hiding from the other females in the room. The tears that stain her face wet your robe as you hold her close. She tucks her face into your neck, hiccuping from emotion.

"Leave us," you command with a stern gaze that borders on anger.

The maids move to leave the room, but only after notifying you that the Queen has barely eaten or bathed in days. Once the door closes shut, you coax Helaena from your arms.

"What is wrong, 'Laena?" You ask softly, cradling her face to brush away her tears. The sight of her red and blotchy face breaks your heart. She must've been like this for a long time.

"It is my fault," she hiccups as new tears follow the path of the others. Helaena hangs her head in despair. She should've fought harder to keep her son alive. There must've been something else she could've done.

"Look at me," you say sternly, forcing her to look at you. It is when her eyes meet yours that you continue, "This is not your fault."

"I was the one to point my finger," she argues while her fists clench and unclench around the fabric of her dress when a new wave of emotion takes over.

Helaena is an overly emotional person. She feels things deep in her chest. She wishes she could control it, but the more she holds it in, the nastier it gets when it gets out of her control. Her body freezes and pleads for her to run and hide.

"Helaena, this was going to happen whether you pointed your finger or not. If you hadn't done what you did, you and Jaehaera would be dead as well."

It's blunt and a bit cruel, but Helaena must understand that she had no other choice. The only way this could've been stopped was if she had been assigned a sworn protector, but the council underestimated their enemy and Ser Criston Cole was too busy getting his cock wet to do anything about it.

"I told them to spare him and kill me instead," Helaena confesses with a weep.

She lets herself go on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around her shaking shoulders. You kiss the top of her head to console her guilty conscience. Helaena did not deserve to be a victim of Daemon's terrible idea. She might just be the most innocent of Targaryens.

"I know, Helaena, you were so brave. You're a wonderful mother. This is not your fault, and nobody blames you. You did what you had to do. Jaehaera is alive and well because of you."

It's hard for Helaena to stop thinking in such a way once she starts. The thoughts cause her to imagine things that aren't really there and doubt her reality. She feels like the staff's glances are not of worry but of resentment for letting those men kill her boy. Aegon's absence makes it all the worse.

"Aegon will not look at me, much less speak to me," she whimpers, wrapping her arms around your waist.

A tear slides down your cheek. You will never compare your sadness to theirs, but seeing them hurt in such a way pains you. Their marriage was arranged, yes, but Aegon and Helaena hold deep affection for each other. They simply have a difficult time showing it.

In this instance, there is no one who understands them better than each other. It is tragic but this should bring them closer together not tear them apart.

"Aegon is grieving. He can barely stand to look at himself because he feels like he failed his family, 'Laena. I promise you he will come around."

Helaena nods with her head on your shoulder. She is not convinced, but your words soothe her for the time being. Tears continuously slide down her face, and there is nothing you can do about it. You much prefer she cries it all out than hold it in.

"Come," you tell her, holding her hand and guiding her to the bath the maids had prepared before they left. "Let's get you ready for bed.”

You keep her close to you, reassuring Helaena you're there to stay as long as she needs. You help her untie the strings of her dress, and as you hang it over the back of a chair, she slips out of her smallclothes.

She accepts your hand to step into the bath. The water has now cooled, but she doesn't complain. It is the least of her worries. Helaena sits in the tub with her arms around her knees and silently cries.

Your goal tonight is to get her to rest. You can tell she hasn't slept in a long time, which will make her feel better.

Settling on the wooden stool next to the bath, you lather soap into the sponge and ask for her arm. Helaena complies, and you gently swipe the sponge across her skin. The maids were thorough as the smell of a calming oils invades your senses. They sincerely wanted to help their Queen.

Scrubbing down her arm, you note her nailbeds, which are red and raw. You're gentle with the soap when you reach her hand to prevent it from burning. Once you rinse it out, you bring her hand up to your lips, kissing her fingertips much like your mother would do when you got hurt.

Her crying calms when she catches onto your gesture, watching you in awe.

It is easy to note how she's thinned out as you continue to bathe her. Her skin presses against her ribs, showcasing each indent, and the bony prominences of her shoulders are much more palpable. It worries you to no end. Everyone has different coping mechanisms, but this is by far the unhealthiest one.

In the morrow, you will make it your goal to get her to eat. For a start, you will ask the kitchens to bake her favorite dessert. There has never been a moment where Helaena has refused a berry tart.

"Tilt your head back for me, love," you whisper, grabbing the pitcher of clean water from the table. Brushing Helaena's hair back, you pour the water, being careful not to get it in her eyes.

As she tilts her head back, she keeps her watchful eyes on you. She is in one of the most intimate positions, yet her lilac eyes reveal the most vulnerable parts of herself. You offer Helaena a comforting smile. Moving on from this tragic accident will be difficult, but we have to start somewhere.

When you lather her hair with soap and massage her scalp, she closes her eyes with a shudder. In turn, her shoulders relax, and goosebumps appear across her skin. A quiet moan slipping past her bitten lips.

Moving on to her face, Helaena watches you closely as you grab a rag to wash her face. You're so careful and tender with her. She has not made mention of it, but your touch feels pleasant against her skin.

You dab her neck next, looking over the wound that was cast upon her. You wish for it not to scar. Helaena needs no more reminders of that night.

After finishing the bath, you help her stand and dry off. Then, you follow her to the bed, where her nightgown lies discarded. With your assistance, she quickly slips it on. Helaena is quiet as she dresses; no more tears well up in her eyes.

"Let's brush your hair," you whisper soothingly.

Delicately, you glide the brush through her silver strands. You tackle the knots methodically to prevent pulling on her hair. A couple of drops of rose oil help greatly with the task as the bristles move smoothly across the long length of her hair.

Helaena sighs softly, and, through the mirror, you can see her eyes are closed. The poor thing must be exhausted.

"How are you feeling?" You ask her, tying the plait you weaved and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. You prop your head upon hers, cuddling her into you.

"Better, I suppose," she nods gratefully, grasping your hand hanging loosely across her chest. "I am tired," she admits.

"Let's get you to bed then."

Before you can slip away, Helaena protests and holds your wrist. "No, please." You're taken aback by the desperation in her voice. Why is she refusing to rest when her body begs for it?

"Helaena, when was the last time you slept?"

Helaena appears guilty. She swallows the knot on her throat, preparing to answer. "Not since that night. The nightmares do not allow me respite."

You sit beside her on the bench, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. "Do you wish to speak about them? It might help."

Her voice is barely above a whisper. "It's always the same. They return when the nights darkest and take Jaehaera."

Helaena is terrified. Many of her dreams have become reality, and this is one she would not be able to bear witness to. The things they do in her dreams are unforgivable. She cannot lose her daughter to those monsters.

Silence takes upon the room. Helaena cannot survive in a sleep deprived state, there must be something you can do. "What if we bring her here? She can sleep with you. That way, you will know she's safe."

Helaena ponders your suggestion, her eyes drifting away. "Will you stay?" Although a question the way Helaena's voice cracks, it's more of a plead.

"Is that what you wish, my Queen?" You ask, caressing her cheek so she returns to you from that faraway place in her mind.

She's quick to nod and squeeze your hand in gratitude. "Please," she whispers, leaning into your touch.

"Anything for you."

Helaena accompanies you to Jaehaera's new chambers. The King saw it fit Jaehaera did not reside in the room where her twin brother was murdered. A wise choice.

If your memory serves you well, Jace used to inhabit the space once upon a time.

Helaena almost runs to her daughter's cot, ensuring she's alive and well. You sympathize with her, it's natural to worry about your child if another was stolen from your life.

"Mama," Jaehaera yawns when Helaena picks her up.

"You're sleeping with mummy tonight, yeah?" Helaena whispers, cradling the back of her head and kissing the crown of her head.

Jaehaera, too tired to reason or even question it, nods and nestles into the crook of Haelena's neck. The sight is eerily similar to that fateful night.

The guard posted to protect Jaehaera escorts you to the Queen's chambers, standing on the opposite side of Helaena's white cloak guard.

Once inside, you slip off your robe and join her and Jaehaera on the bed. The girl is safely nestled between you both, pale lashes fluttering shut.

Helaena reaches for your hand to ensure you do not leave, and you lace your fingers with hers. "Sleep, 'Laena. I'll keep you safe," you promise her.

All it takes for Helaena to sleep is a lullaby your mother used to sing to you. It was of great tales of the people of Old Valyria. It was your favorite growing up, and now it is Helaena's.

By the song's end, Helaena's breaths even out and she succumbs to slumber. Although her face reflects her tiredness, the resemblance between Helaena and Jaehaera is stark.

When your eyes begin to close, eager to follow Helaena and Jaehaera to the land of dreams, the door creaks open. Startled, you sit up on the bed to search for an intruder, ready to scream if need be.

Aegon stands by the door, his chest heaving and his face pale. His hair is in disarray, and his eyes are wild with worry. "Where is Jaehaera?" he asks.

"She's right here," you respond, lowering the sheets and moving your body to reveal her resting upon Helaena's chest.

Aegon sighs in relief, and after a moment of hesitation, he timidly steps closer to the bed, observing the scene in front of him. He has taken to visiting his daughter's chambers throughout the night. He doesn't trust the guards, even if he is the one who assigned them. Aegon needs to see with his own eyes that his remaining child is alive and not endangered.

He had been frightened when the guard who was supposed to be posted by her door was gone, and worse, so was his daughter. Before he could scream, a maid walked in and, upon questioning, told him Jaehaera was in the Queen's chambers with her mother and the Princess.

You lay back against the headboard and observe him. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over you to brush a strand of hair away from his wife's face. Then, his hand lowers as his fingertip traces the slope of his daughter's nose.

"You should talk to her."

Helaena's words are clear as day in your mind. After witnessing Aegon in the same position, you reckon it would be good if they spoke to one another.

"I wouldn't know what to say," Aegon responds with a shake of his head.

"Yes, you do," you insist, resting your hand upon his, which lays on the bed. He glances questioningly at you, silently asking you to explain.

Your voice is light and soft. The last thing you want is to wake Helaena, although your instincts tell you it is doubtful. "Nobody understands what you're going through better than Helaena. She lost a child as well and feels just as hopeless as you do. Talk to her and tell her the words you would've liked to hear."

"It is that easy?" He asks in disbelief with a scoff. He looks at you for guidance. You've helped him more than anyone in the council or his own mother.

"Yes," you chuckle, and he joins you, if only for a moment. "Would you like me to go so you can stay?" You wouldn't want to intrude in a moment that can unite a family yet again.

Aegon shakes his head and urges you to stay abed. "It is alright. I will soon talk with 'Laena."

For a brief moment, Aegon presses his forehead against yours to show his appreciation. He stands with a press of his lips to your forehead and one more glance at his family. "Thank you for everything. I hope one day I can repay you for all your kindness."

"There's no need."

He does not speak but shares a glance that says a thousand words. Aegon closes the door behind him and turns to the guards standing by it.

Their backs visibly straighten when he addresses them. "Under no circumstance are you to leave your post. Your goal is to protect the Queen and the Princesses."

After all, his heart and soul are in that room.

STAY WITH US

came out a little longer than aegon but there was much to do with lovely helaena. queen helaena is a big reason as to why i hate alicent so much. alicent has let her down time and time again. how can she fucking ask helaena not to say anything about her and cole? fuck, alicent, she's not even thinking about that.

did you enjoy this one shot? please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and alicent and cole slander) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

Note

ooohhhhhh, please can you write a smut with aegon? maybe where he catches her in the town with some guy she’s been seeing and he just gets jealous and they go back to the keep and it’s just angsty but smutty. tyyyyy 😚

Request: Aegon weds Helaena instead of his twin sister. They continue seeing each other but Alicent force them apart and end this with smut

Warnings: 18+, smut, humping, mention of p + v, sibling incest,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Since birth, you and Aegon had always been attached to the hip. You fed from your mother’s breasts at the same time, napped together, bathed together, and continued doing so as you grew up. Where Aegon went, you followed.

When your bodies started to change, you pointed it out to each other and did things the Faith of the Sevens considered sins.

Because of your bond, you always assumed you would wed your twin brother when you could flower, but Aegon ended up being betrothed to your younger sister, Helaena. Neither you or Aegon were pleased with the decision. He didn’t love Helaena, and never would. She was just a wife he had to bed until his seed took.

On nights Aegon didn’t see Helaena, he snuck to your chambers. With you, he didn’t need to imagine someone else’s face to keep his cock hard. All he had to do was look in your eyes — and your perky breasts and pink cunny.

Eventually, you got caught and your mother took the decision to order a guard at your door at night.

Three years went by since you last shared a bed, since you last felt each other’s naked body. You had turned to brothels, buying yourself the finest looking men that would fill the void of your brother - although none would equal his beauty.

It was difficult seeing him around the Keep and staying away from each other. All you wanted was to throw yourself into Aegon’s arms and never let go.

‘’You smell new tonight, Princess,’’ the blond boy complimented as he kissed your skin, smelling something different. ‘’Although I do not recognize what it is.’’

‘’Jasmin,’’ you said, tilting your neck to give him more space. ‘’I brought home soaps from Highgarden when I visited.’’

He continued to kiss your body as you laid there in the silks of your private chamber, veils of curtains shielding you from the prying eyes of the customers. It was no secret that the princess was frequenting brotels of the Street of Silk, but your naked body was not for open view. Only those who were given golden coins had the chance to see what hid beneath your sumptuous dresses.

Tonight, his name was Dorian, or mayhaps Davos. It was the same to you. He had a pair of blue eyes that reminded you of Aegon's, which had heavily influenced your choice of boy of pleasure. You've laid with him before. He was one of your favorites. Sweet, delicate faced and he had a decent cock.

His kisses were light as his lips descended down your naked body. His hands trailed down your collarbones and to your supple breasts. You sighed in pleasure, appreciating the way he was suckling on your nipple.

‘’Does the Princess like how I'm taking care of her?’’ he asked sweetly, wanting to please.

You relaxed against the pillows. ‘’Very much.’’

Dorian continued to kiss lower and lower, until he reached your lower stomach. ‘’May I touch you, Princess?’’

You nodded in consent, a long moan leaving your parted lips when Dorian’s thumb circled your neglected pearl. After a month of traveling, a month of only having your hands to pleasure yourself, your body was sensitive and in need.

On the other side of the curtains, Aegon was strolling through the brothel with a goblet of wine in his hand, rubbing himself over his breeches while looking for a suitable cunny to dip his cock in. There were women of every kind. Some were half-naked, others fully exposed, all wearing expressions of lust and desire.

As he walked past one of the curtained-off rooms, he couldn’t help but notice the feminine moans and gasps coming from within. Curious, Aegon paused in his steps and pulled the curtain slightly open.

Aegon’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He almost dropped the goblet in his hand at the pure shock of realizing whose body was being pleasured behind the curtain. His twin sister. His sister that he had not touched in so long.

You writhed and moaned so prettily on the silken sheets, your face scrunched up in pleasure at the work of the boy of pleasure in the bed.

With his hand still gripping the curtain, Aegon pulled it open and stormed into the room. His eyes were burning with jealousy and fury, his voice sharp when he spoke. ‘’Get out.’’

The boy of pleasure looked up in surprise, gasping at the sight of your twin brother standing at the end of the bed. He glanced at you, then back to Aegon, not knowing what to do. You had paid for his company, he should stay. But the rage on Aegon’s face terrified him.

“I said get out,” Aegon repeated with his jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving you. ‘’It’s a command from your prince of the realm and heir to the throne.’’

The boy of pleasure hurried off the bed and left the room, leaving you and Aegon together.

You sat up when the curtains closed again, your eyes wide and your body stiff. With the way Aegon burst through the curtains with such anger and rage on his face, you knew exactly what he was feeling. Jealousy.

‘’What in the Seven fucking Hells is this?’’ His voice was sharp and harsh, and his blood was boiling. ‘’You let whores sully your body with his disreputable seed?’’

You poured yourself more wine into your cup and took a small sip under Aegon’s gaze, not bothering to cover your body. ‘’I don’t let them fill me, if that’s what you’re worried about. There is no bastard babe in my womb.’’

Aegon clenched his jaw at your response. The fact that you were so casual, that you were so calm was making him even more angry. He took a few steps towards you, his eyes roaming over your naked and exposed body. Gods, you were so beautiful. The memory of the many times he had you like this under him flashed through his mind, and he cursed under his breath, his cock hardening in his breeches.

‘’You let someone unworthy between your legs. You…you betrayed me!’’

You almost laughed at the absurdity of his words. Betrayed him?

‘’Mother forced us apart,’’ you reminded him. She was the villain of the story, not you. ‘’What was I supposed to do, Aegon? Plot for my sister’s death so I could wed her widower husband?’’

‘’We could have used the hidden passages and seen each other behind Mother’s back.’’

‘’And risk her exiling me to Oldtown?’’ You shook your head, refusing this to be your fate.

‘’I would not have let her.’’ He climbed over the bed and reached for your chin with a firm grip. Forcefully, he tilted your face up to look at him. ‘’I would not have let her take you from me.’’ Aegon’s voice was lower and huskier now that he was so close to you, and you could feel the heat coming off his body. He let go of your chin but didn’t move away, trapping you between his arms.

As he hovered over you, your eye’s met with his. You felt like you could almost drown in their blue hue. This was his natural state, you knew. Full of fire and lust, unable to control his emotions. His breathing became deeper and more ragged as he continued to stare down at you.

You were both silent for a moment until Aegon suddenly lowered his head, burying his face into your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, biting down hard just to hear you hiss. His body pressed you down into the bed, humping against you. His clothes felt rough against your bare skin, but the friction of your bodies sent shocks of pleasure through each other.

‘’Ahh, I need you, Aegon,’’ you mewled in his ear, fingers clutching at his commoner tunic. His hard bulge was pressing against your naked cunny, the wetness seeping from you staining the fabric every time he rubbed against you.

His lips kissed their way up your jaw, then he brushed his nose against yours. ‘’Have me.’’

The lewd sounds came from behind the curtains echoed through the brothel all night, making customers wish they could have a turn with whoever was giving pleasure. Little did they know, it wasn't a brothel worker who was behind the curtains, but a prince and a princess who were making up for three years of craving each other.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #house targaryen #house of the dragon #taylor swift #hotd

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desireangel · 1 month

Text

Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen

Part Two

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o

Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!

Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Part One

Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach.

His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.

It was always on your mind. Always.

Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.

And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger.

Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.

You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job.

Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand.

If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all.

Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another.

On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly.

Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.

You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.

The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”

Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough.

Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know.

“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read.

Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that.

But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you.

Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you.

Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking.

“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there.

Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch.

Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose.

If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw.

There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy.

He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine.

No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince.

A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him.

But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage.

Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing.

The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue.

When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin.

Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.”

“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”

You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”

It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did.

But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you.

You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.

So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt.

A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago.

He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm.

One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that.

Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide.

Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance.

And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.

For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression.

“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”

With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless.

Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice.

There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption.

“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”

You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye.

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”

Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong.

Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger.

You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”

The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.

Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all.

Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there.

But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat.

“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”

Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist.

“My prince-”

“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”

The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating.

You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”

If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned.

There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived.

So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it.

“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”

Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.”

And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome.

A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you.

The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut.

You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced.

Footsteps. Again.

Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck.

It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was.

So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard. Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers.

You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.

Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you.

If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing.

But what else had you expected?

This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head.

Gods, you had never known anything like it.

Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist.

You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery.

Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him.

For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in?

Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.

Like things were going exactly how he had planned.

Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much.

The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear.

And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn.

Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along?

It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s?

You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.

Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.

He wanted you to see.

Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play.

Sleep did not come easy that night.

You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place.

The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day.

For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.

Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.

It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman.

There was none. Not a single strand of hair.

You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him.

“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”

Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava.

He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing.

The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”

“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”

Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”

“I did not think you cared to take note.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”

Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”

“I do not.”

You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”

“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”

“Answer my question, Aemond.”

“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”

“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”

The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”

Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat.

“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”

“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw.

There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”

“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”

Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time.

The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck.

When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach.

You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”

“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.”

For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”

You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs.

The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips.

Lavender, leather and him.

“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”

Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view.

His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”

“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable. “You should not have indulged in that whore.”

Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.

You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh.

It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him.

You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.

There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”

A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter.

You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.

“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.”

Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?”

You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”

Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”

“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”

“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”

You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”

“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”

Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap.

Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure.

You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.

“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”

“Gods, no–do not sto-”

Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter.

“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”

“No.”

It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.

Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan.

You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad.

“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor.

Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline.

“You would not dare,” he all but growled.

“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?”

Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”

“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”

There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile.

650 notes · View notes

novaursa · 24 days

Note

hello luv

what about aegon x twin sister

they were always very very closed, like you can always see them together, but she had a very strong character and she let no one decide for her.

And because of that Otto is afraid to married her to aegon so he choose Helena to married him. But Aegon still had an affair with her, he can stop thinking about her.

And when he became king he decided to take her as his second wife, they have a child together and he was with the twins during the night of the attack and aegon is really scared for him (he loved more their child coz he was made with love)

The Fires We Make

- Summary: When they decreed to marry Aegon to Helaena, he decided to do what his namesake had done. Aegon takes you as his second wife.

- Paring: twin!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. Requests are now closed!

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 3 400+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I had to bend your plot in the end a little, to make Aegon's reaction more believable.

You sit beside your brother Aegon, your twin, your other half. The bond you share is a rare and precious thing, a connection forged in the cradle, strengthened over the years by whispers in the dark, stolen moments, and a fierce loyalty that burns brighter than any dragon's flame. It’s a bond that only the two of you truly understand, one that could lead to either great strength or devastating ruin. You’ve always known that, and so has Aegon.

But now, that bond is threatened.

The candlelight flickers across the faces of your mother, Queen Alicent, and your grandsire, Otto Hightower, their expressions shadowed and grim. The air in the room is thick with dread, almost visible force that presses against your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You can feel Aegon’s anger radiating beside you, a barely contained storm.

“Aegon,” Otto begins, his voice calm and measured, the tone of a man who is used to being obeyed. “You must understand that our family’s future is at stake. The stability of the realm depends on it.”

Aegon’s jaw tightens, his hands clenching into fists on the arms of his chair. He doesn’t respond immediately, and when he does, his voice is low, dangerous. “What I understand, Grandsire, is that you think I should be controlled. You think we should be controlled.”

Otto’s gaze is steely, unyielding. “You are the future King, Aegon. Your duty is to the realm, not to your… whims.”

“Whims?” Aegon spits the word out like it’s poison. “Is that what you call it? Whims? You’re speaking about her, about my sister—your granddaughter.”

Alicent shifts in her seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She looks at Aegon with a mixture of sorrow and concern, her voice soft but firm when she finally speaks. “Aegon, this is not just about what you want. It’s about what’s best for the realm. Your match with your sister—” she hesitates, glancing at Otto, then continues, “it could be… dangerous. You both have strong wills, too strong perhaps. It could lead to conflict, to instability.”

You feel a flare of anger at her words, but you remain silent, watching as Aegon struggles to keep his emotions in check. He’s always been quick to anger, but this is different. This is deeper, more personal. You can see it in his eyes, in the way his body tenses as if ready to spring into action, to defend you, to defend both of you against this assault on your bond.

“And what do you propose instead?” Aegon’s voice is cold now, icy. “That I marry Helaena? Is that it?”

Otto nods, as if this is the most reasonable suggestion in the world. “Helaena is gentle, pliable. She will be a good queen, one who will support you, not challenge you. The realm needs a steady hand, not… not the fire that the two of you could unleash.”

Aegon laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Steady? You mean obedient, don’t you, Grandsire? You want someone who will nod and smile and do as they’re told. Someone who won’t question you.”

“Aegon—” Alicent starts, but Aegon cuts her off.

“No, Mother, don’t. You know as well as I do that this isn’t about what’s best for the realm. It’s about control. He’s afraid of us, of what we could be together.” He turns to Otto, his eyes blazing. “You’re afraid that we’ll be too strong, that we’ll burn too brightly for you to handle. But you should remember, Grandsire, that dragons are not meant to be tamed.”

Otto’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “This is not a matter of fear, Aegon. It’s a matter of duty. You have a responsibility to the realm, to the Targaryen line. Your sister—” his gaze flicks to you, and you feel the weight of it, the judgment, “—is too much like you. The two of you together could bring about more chaos than order. You must think beyond yourself, beyond your desires.”

Aegon stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. His fists are trembling, his entire body vibrating with barely suppressed rage. “My desires? My desires have always been for the good of our House, of our family. And she—” he points to you, his voice shaking with emotion, “—she is my family. My twin. My other half. I will not abandon her for some twisted idea of duty.”

Alicent rises, reaching out to him, but he steps back, shaking his head. “Aegon, please, listen to reason.”

“Reason?” he scoffs. “Reason has nothing to do with this. This is about power. You want me to be a puppet, to marry Helaena and play the part of the obedient son. But I am not a puppet, and I will not be controlled.”

For a moment, the room is silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of your brother as he struggles to regain control of his emotions. You know him well enough to see the storm within him, the fierce protectiveness, the rage at being cornered.

Finally, Otto speaks, his voice cold and authoritative. “You are the heir to the Iron Throne, Aegon. You will do what is necessary for the good of the realm. You will marry Helaena.”

Aegon looks at him, and for a moment, you think he might lash out, might do something reckless. But instead, he turns to you, his eyes softening, filled with a deep, unspoken promise. “This isn’t over,” he says quietly, and you know he means it. Whatever comes next, he will not let you be cast aside so easily.

Without another word, Aegon strides out of the room, leaving you alone with the weight of what has just transpired. Otto and Alicent exchange a glance, and you can see the concern in your mother’s eyes, the worry for what this decision will mean for her son, for you, for the future of the realm.

But in your heart, you know that this is only the beginning. The bond you share with Aegon is not something that can be easily broken, not by Otto’s machinations or anyone else’s. It is a bond forged in fire, and if there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that fire cannot be so easily extinguished.

The heavy curtains are drawn tightly around the grand bed, casting the room in a shadowed twilight, the only light a flickering candle that dances with the whispers of a secret not meant for the world beyond these walls. The bedchamber is filled with the scent of smoldering incense and the unmistakable, intoxicating warmth of shared passion. Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, mingling with the ragged exhalations of the man above you, his silver hair brushing against your face as he moves, each movement a promise, a vow sealed with a thousand unspoken words.

Aegon’s hands are on your hips, strong and possessive, as though he’s terrified you might slip away from him if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough. His touch burns with a desperate need, a fire that refuses to be extinguished, no matter how many years or how many vows have tried to snuff it out. His eyes, fierce and wild, bore into yours, and in them, you see the same desire, the same hunger that has haunted both of you since childhood.

“Aegon,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your shared history, with the love and pain and longing that have only grown stronger with time.

He leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “You are mine,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “You’ve always been mine. And I swear by the gods, by the dragons, by our blood, that I will make you my wife as is my right, as Aegon the Conqueror did before me.”

The intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. He is not making an idle promise, nor is he indulging in a lover’s fantasy. This is Aegon’s truth, the truth of a man who has been denied the one thing he’s always desired above all else. His marriage to Helaena, while dutiful and necessary, has never filled the void that you alone could fill. You are his other half, his twin flame, the only one who truly understands the depths of his soul.

But the world outside this room is not so easily swayed by passion or promises made in the dark. You know this, and so does he. The weight of your shared secret presses down on you, even in this moment of intimacy, but you cannot deny the longing in your heart, the yearning for a life where you can stand by his side, not as a hidden lover, but as his equal, his queen.

“Aegon,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to caress his face, your fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the softness of his lips. “What you’re speaking of… it could bring the realm to its knees.”

He closes his eyes briefly, as if pained by your words, but when he opens them again, they are filled with a fierce determination. “The realm has always been at war with itself, with its rulers, with its desires. We were born to the blood of the dragon, to forge our own path, to take what is ours. You are mine, and I will not let anyone take you from me, not Grandsire, not Mother, not even the gods.”

His words, spoken with such conviction, send a shiver down your spine. Aegon has always been passionate, but there is something different in him now, something that has hardened over the years, a resolve that has been tempered by the constant battles he’s fought—not just against his enemies, but against his own heart.

“And what of Helaena?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. It’s a question that has lingered between you for years, a question that neither of you has dared to voice until now.

Aegon’s expression softens, a brief flicker of guilt passing through his eyes. “Helaena is… kind, gentle. She does not deserve this. But she also knows, deep down, that my heart has never truly belonged to her. She knows that I am bound to you in a way that cannot be undone.”

There’s a sadness in his voice, a recognition of the pain that his actions have caused, but also an acceptance that this is the way things were always meant to be. The Targaryen blood runs strong in both of you, and with it comes a fierce, unyielding love that will not be denied, no matter the cost.

“And what will you do?” you ask, your voice steady, even as your heart pounds in your chest.

Aegon’s gaze locks onto yours, his hand sliding up your body to cradle your face. “I will take you as my second wife, as Aegon the Conqueror did with Rhaenys and Visenya. One wife for love another for duty. It is my right, our right. The realm will have to accept it, or they will face the wrath of the dragons.”

His words are a declaration, a promise forged in the heat of passion and the blood of the dragon. There is no turning back now, no more hiding in the shadows. The path before you is fraught with danger, but it is also the only path that feels true, that feels right.

“And you, my love?” he asks, his voice softening as he searches your eyes for the answer that only you can give. “Will you stand by my side, as my wife, my queen? Will you help me claim what is ours?”

For a moment, the world outside ceases to exist. There is only Aegon, the man you’ve loved your entire life, the man who would move heaven and earth to be with you. You see the same fierce love in his eyes that you feel in your own heart, and you know that there is only one answer you can give.

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice steady, filled with the same fire that burns in him. “Yes, Aegon. I will stand by your side. I will be your wife, your queen.”

Aegon’s lips crash down onto yours in a kiss filled with all the passion, all the longing, all the love that you’ve shared over the years. It is a kiss that seals your fate, that binds you to him in a way that no one can break.

The night had fallen thick and oppressive over King’s Landing, a dark shroud that seemed to suffocate the very air in the Red Keep. The corridors were eerily silent, save for the distant echoes of footsteps and the murmurs of a court forever on edge. You had been in your chambers, cradling little Maelor in your arms, his soft breaths a balm to your weary soul. It was a rare moment of peace, a fleeting respite from the storm that raged outside these walls and within your hearts.

But peace is always short-lived in the house of the dragon.

The sound of rushed footsteps reached your ears first, followed by the unmistakable clang of armor and the urgent whispers of the guards. Your heart skipped a beat, dread curling in your stomach as you clutched Maelor closer, his tiny body warm against you. Aegon burst into the room, his face pale and eyes wild with fear. He was breathing heavily, the effort of his desperate sprint evident, but it was the terror in his eyes that froze the blood in your veins.

"Aegon," you whispered, your voice trembling as you rose to meet him, Maelor still safely in your arms. "What has happened?"

Aegon barely seemed to hear you as he crossed the room in three long strides, his hands reaching out to cup your face, his touch frantic and trembling. "Are you hurt? Is he—?" His voice cracked, the fear so palpable it was like a living thing between you.

"We are safe," you assured him, though your own voice shook as you said it. "But, Aegon, what—?"

Before you could finish, the door to the nursery burst open, and Alicent’s voice cut through the air, a raw, broken sound that sent chills down your spine. “No… no… gods, no!”

Aegon’s head snapped towards the sound, his grip on you tightening as if he needed the contact to anchor himself, to remind himself that you and Maelor were still here, still alive. But you could see the fear, the terrible fear in his eyes as he pulled away from you and rushed towards the door that led to the twins' nursery.

You followed closely behind, Maelor held tightly against your chest as you entered the adjoining room, the sight that greeted you nearly making your legs give out beneath you.

The nursery was in chaos. The once serene room, filled with soft linens and gentle colors, was now a scene from a nightmare. Helaena was on the floor, her wails of grief piercing the air as she cradled the lifeless body of little Jaehaerys in her arms. Blood stained the floor, dark and stark against the pale stone, and beside her, Jaehaera was huddled, her small body shaking with silent sobs.

Aegon’s breath caught in his throat as he stumbled forward, falling to his knees beside Helaena. His hand trembled as he reached out to touch Jaehaerys, as if hoping—praying—that he would wake, that this was some horrid dream from which he could rouse.

But Jaehaerys was gone.

Your heart shattered as you watched Aegon, his face contorting in anguish, a guttural cry ripping from his chest as he gathered Jaehaerys’s small body into his arms. “No… no… my son…” His voice broke, the words choked and hoarse as he rocked back and forth, tears streaming down his face.

Helaena’s sobs only grew louder, more desperate, as she clung to Aegon, her grief a mirror of his. “They made me choose,” she gasped, her voice barely audible through her sobs. “They made me choose, Aegon… I couldn’t— I didn’t—”

Aegon’s head whipped up, his eyes wild as he looked at Helaena. “Who?” he demanded, though his voice was little more than a ragged whisper. “Who did this?”

“The butcher and the rat catcher,” she whispered, the names falling from her lips like a curse. “They came for us… they wanted revenge… they… they wanted a son for a son.”

The horror of her words washed over you like a wave, leaving you cold and numb. Revenge for Lucerys. The brutal cost of this war that now claimed the innocent, who had no part in the sins of their fathers.

Aegon’s gaze shifted from Helaena to you, and you could see the mixture of guilt and relief in his eyes as they landed on Maelor, safe and unharmed in your arms. He didn’t need to speak for you to understand the war raging within him. His son, his firstborn with Helaena, had been taken from him, and yet, Maelor, your son, was still here, untouched by the horror that had unfolded in the next room.

“Aegon,” you whispered, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you moved closer, your free hand reaching out to him. “I’m so sorry… so, so sorry…”

But what comfort could you possibly offer? There were no words to mend a heart so shattered, no solace to ease the pain of a father mourning his child.

Aegon’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the broken man beneath the crown, the weight of his grief threatening to crush him. But there was also that flicker of relief, of guilt, that he could not shake—that while one son had been lost, another still lived.

He rose slowly, still cradling Jaehaerys’s body, his movements careful, reverent. He looked down at Helaena, who was still on the floor, her arms wrapped around herself as if to hold together the pieces of her shattered soul. “Helaena,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I swear to you, I will avenge him. I will find those responsible, and they will pay. This… this I swear on his memory.”

Helaena only nodded, her eyes distant, as if she were somewhere far away, a place where her pain couldn’t reach her.

Aegon turned to you, his gaze falling on Maelor. His eyes softened, though the sorrow did not leave them, and he reached out to touch his son’s cheek, his hand trembling as he did. “He is safe,” Aegon murmured, almost to himself, as if trying to convince himself that it was true. “He is safe because of you.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks as you looked at the man you loved, the father of your child. “It should not have been this way,” you whispered. “None of this should have happened.”

“No,” Aegon agreed, his voice filled with a quiet, simmering rage. “It should not have. But it has, and now we will have to live with it.” He looked down at Jaehaerys once more, a fresh wave of grief washing over him. “But I will not let this go unanswered. They will pay for this, every single one of them.”

His words were filled with a dark promise, a vow that you knew he would keep. The realm would bleed for this, just as you had bled, just as he now bled, with his son’s blood on his hands.

Aegon turned back to you, his eyes hollow, his face etched with a pain so deep you could scarcely bear to look at it. “Keep him safe,” he said, his voice hoarse, as if the very act of speaking was too much to bear. “Keep Maelor safe, no matter what happens. I cannot lose him, too.”

“I will,” you promised, your voice firm, though your heart ached with the weight of it. “I will keep him safe, Aegon. No matter what.”

He nodded, though it was a hollow gesture, and then he turned back to Helaena, who was still on the floor, lost in her grief. He knelt beside her, his free hand reaching out to touch her arm, and you saw in his eyes the same determination that had driven him through every battle, every hardship.

But this battle was different. This was a war of the heart, and it was a war that had already claimed too much.

You stood there, holding Maelor close, as Aegon mourned his son, and in that moment, you knew that nothing would ever be the same. The dragons had awakened, and the fires of vengeance would burn until the realm was ash.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x female reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x you #aegon ii targaryen

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bietrofastimoff23 · 3 months

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Helaena, who usually does not enter into dialogues, shows her willingness to have a frank and difficult conversation with her husband, because she knows that he is experiencing as much pain from the loss of a child as she is, and knows that they both need to talk it out.

Aegon, who is always resourceful in communication, cannot find words and runs away because he feels powerless in front of her grief and guilty in front of his family for not being able to protect them.

#aegon ii targaryen #helaegon #helaena targaryen #team green #hotd #house of the dragon #my post #[ It gives me hope that Helaena will visit him after the dragon battle #but that's not for sure ]

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targaryen-dynasty · 9 months

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MINE AND MINE ONLY.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Aemond has gotten you pregnant six months ago, and seeing him with his infant niece during dinner with his family sparks something inside of you only he can satisfy.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, face sitting, slight anal play, slight breeding kink, pregnant sex, slight lactation kink

WORDS: 4.9 K

NOTES: Sorry, I’m kinda in baby fever right now don’t ask me why. 😭 This also is my gift for hitting 1850 followers a few days ago, which means I’m finally where I’ve been before deleting my old blog. Thanks for everyone following me on this journey. 🫶🏻

The days between Christmas and New Years usually are meant for people to take some much-needed downtime from the stress of the past days or weeks – unless you are a Targaryen or married to one.

It’s the fourth year in a row you’re spending one, sometimes even two, days at the large Targaryen mansion with every member of their family present.

What started as an opportunity to celebrate the New Year early with her family four years ago, since Viserys and Alicent wanted to celebrate New Year’s Eve on a yacht somewhere in the Sea of Dorne back then, has quickly turned into a tradition that no one could escape.

Not even the six-month pregnant you.

As an excuse to not travel to the family’s vacation home on Dragonstone, Aemond has begged for you to allow him to tell his mother that your back pain has gotten so bad you couldn’t sit in the car for four hours.

The fact that he didn’t fall to his knees while doing it was everything.

But you have told him no, seeing that your back pains have eased two weeks ago, and it is one of the rare occasions he gets to spend with his whole family, not just his mother’s side.

If he wants to or not.

“And how are you spending New Year’s?” you ask, lounging in the burgundy Lawson chair.

Helaena sits in the chair next to yours, fidgeting with the stem of her wine glass. Every now and then you spot her lilac eyes flickering to your protruding bump, accentuated by the tight slip dress you wear.

“This year we’re embracing a night in,” she answers, nursing her alcohol-free wine. “Cregan doesn’t want to leave the children with his parents, since Lyanna is still breastfeeding, and Edrick doesn’t want to go without his little sister.”

You nod along to her words, smiling softly at the mention of her sons‘ protectiveness, and glance past her to Aemond, Aegon and Cregan. The men are standing close to the fireplace, glasses of whiskey between their fingers. Normally, they would be tipsy by now – some more than others – if it wasn’t for the infant cradled in Cregan’s strong arms.

Helaena follows your line of sight, the turning of her head prompting you to look at her again.

“What are your plans?” she asks.

You pucker your lips slightly, looking down at the glass of water you‘ve rested on your belly before meeting her eyes.

“Aegon has invited us to a party in White Harbor, a formal dinner with some of his friends. We wanted to go, because the place is stunning and it’s overlooking the iconic harbor fireworks, but it’s such a long drive, and Aemond doesn’t want to risk anything by us taking the plane,” you sigh, “so, we’ll probably stay at home or just go out for dinner.”

Ever since you’ve handed him the gift box containing four identical, positive pregnancy tests, Aemond has taken over a protective aura and has found it incredibly difficult to keep his hands off of you.

It’s a miracle he was able to talk to his brother and brother-in-law for so long without checking in on you once.

But speak of the devil.

What you aren’t expecting when Aemond makes his way over to where you’re conversing with his sister, is the little infant in his arms. Her head rests against his shoulder, while one of his large hands supports it and neck, and the other supports her bottom.

He’s swaying her gently as he walks over, a proud smile on his lips as he can’t tear his eyes off of his niece, coming to stand next to Helaena’s chair. The sight makes your heart swell with love.

Cregan trails behind him, and your eyes briefly fall to the abandoned Aegon still standing at the fireplace and balancing their three glasses in his hands.

“Honey,” the Northener’s gruff voice rings out, “your mother said that Edrick’s made a mess. Could you change him while I clean up?” Still standing offset behind your husband, Cregan pats Aemond on the shoulder once. “Our girl’s in good hands, and Aemy here can already practice for what awaits him soon.”

Helaena raises her eyebrows, before snickering at her husband’s remark. She bows her head once, smiling at you, “excuse me, Y/N.”

“We’ll talk later,” you assure her.

She brushes her hand over your swollen belly once as she rises, Cregan’s hand on the small of her back urging her out of the living space.

Aemond carefully sinks into the chair, and changes the position of the sleeping infant so she’s cradled in his arms.

“What have you been up to?” he asks, finally moving his head to look at you.

You were wearing a knitted sweater over your dress when you two arrived a few hours earlier, but with hot flashes attacking you every now and then, you have long opted to slip out of it and hang the sweater over a chair.

And the outfit change clearly is only now noticed by him.

His lilac eyes flickered between yours and your full breasts, and you can literally see the gears turning in his head.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he states, full on staring at your breasts.

Fine, maybe you have also done it to tease him a bit.

A blush creeps onto his cheeks, running down his neck, and he slightly shifts in his seat, turning his gaze away as he clears his throat.

Pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from curling into a smile, you quickly shush the urge by taking a swig of your water. “Wasn’t keen on spending the evening unable to think of anything else than how sore and uncomfortable I feel,” you tease. “Are you complaining?”

Aemond raises one hand in defeat, “certainly not, just pointing it out.”

You teasingly reach and bring your index finger to his chin, tilting it up for his eyes to meet yours again. “Then you better stop staring, we're not the only ones here.”

You glance briefly at the gathered party around you, watching Alicent chat with Rhaenyra and her husband, while Aegon seems to be deep in a conversation with Daemon, no doubt talking about the latest match between the Casterly Rock Lions and the Oldtown Saints.

“Fair enough,” he answered with a low chuckle.

The soft coos of his niece catch your attention, and you lean forwards to gauge at the little bundle. She’s stirring lightly in her sleep, grimaces and smiles alike gracing her scrunched features. Aemond brushes her cheek with his knuckles in feather light touches, until her coos are interrupted, and wide, blue eyes stare up at him.

Lyanna smacks her lips slowly, bringing her small hand up to her mouth. “What is she doing?” Aemond whispers, not daring to pull his eyes away from her in case she starts to cry.

“She’s hungry,” you answer with a chuckle, grinning as you notice his helplessness.

It’s so brief, but you spot his eyes flickering towards your full breasts, and you have to stop yourself from hitting his shoulder. One wrong word.

“You know there are barely four months left until your life looks like this, too, right?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“I do, but they have not yet told us about this at the prenatal class.”

“Oh, come on, she’s not your first niece, and she’s not even crying.”

The sigh of relief Aemond releases as he spots Helaena’s silver hair in the far distance has you shaking your head, bringing your index finger up to your smiling lips.

“How did you three get on?” Helaena asks, noticing that her daughter is awake.

Your husband rises to his feet, and hands his niece over to her. “Easy, she’s just woken up and seems really hungry,” he notes, as if he has figured it out all by himself. “And how did you fare?”

Helaena releases a dry chuckle, brushing her free hand up and down Aemond’s biceps. “I’ll tell you another time, don’t want to scare you.“ She briefly glances over at you. “Just know that Creg has to bathe him right now, because the wet wipes were useless.”

The grimace on Aemond’s face at his sister’s words has you choking on a laugh.

Lyanna starts to whine and wiggle in her mother’s grasp, getting her attention. “Sorry again, it’s feeding time, obviously,” she states, muttering the last word under her breath, and shoots you an apologetic gaze before scurrying off.

You hold out a hand, and knowing what it means, Aemond takes it to help you up from the chair.

His heart melts at the sight of you before him, and he wraps an arm around you to pull you against his side as he brushes his hand over the gentle swell of your belly in tender affection. There were shy kicks meeting his hand, making him grin.

You return the embrace, and lean yourself against his frame, your head resting on his chest. “It’s different when it’s your own child, you know,” you say, the small glimmer of a smile blessing your features.

His head dips forwards, and he presses his lips to your temple, mumbling the words against your skin, “I can’t wait to meet him.”

—

Aemond has his arm slung around your waist as everyone has gathered in the vast living space to watch the children perform a play they have practiced.

Alicent, ever the proud grandmother, clings to Viserys as they watch in awe what the children of Rhaenyra have been up to. An oblivious Edrick appears in the middle of it all, but before Cregan can scoop him up, the little Viserys has taken his hands to include him in their mischief.

“Have I already told you how good you look today?” Aemond whispers, his head dipping forwards so his lips are level with your ear. He rubs your bump gently, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes.

You shiver from his touch, your body tingling from the attention your husband gives you. “You’re not paying attention,” you scold softly, nodding towards the children in the middle. A teenage Jacaerys, as well as Daemon’s daughters from his first marriage, stand before you, your view of the play slightly concealed.

“I can’t help myself,” he whispers huskily, “you’re just too distracting, Mommy.” A smirk tugs on his lips as the name leaves them, and the sight is only topped by him leaning in to brush his lips over your ear, before they press to the sensitive skin behind it. The very spot that always makes you putty in his hands, and with your hormones in full swing, it does a little more than just melt you.

“Aemond,” you whisper, though he can also hear the trace of a moan in it, “easy.”

His teeth graze your earlobe, and the ring of his baritone voice sends a shiver down your spine, “we should go to bed early tonight.”

You can’t help but to chuckle at his words. It’s his subtle way to ask for something without directly asking, though you know exactly what he means. You lean into him, pressing yourself against his side.

Biting the tip of your tongue, it was impossible for you to stop your lips from pulling into a mischievous smirk.

“Do you think your mother will notice if we leave now?” you ask, innocently.

You’re greeted with a wide grin when your eyes meet Aemond’s, and the arm he has wrapped around you tightens just more, keeping you against his frame.

His lips brush your ear again, trailing down to press a kiss to the side of your neck. “If she does, she can tell me later,” he raps into your ear, “besides, we wouldn‘t be gone for too long, sweetheart. Just long enough for a little… alone time. Who could blame us for wanting to savor the last weeks where it’s only the two of us, mh?”

Aemond looks around one last time, noticing how everyone around you is mostly focused on the children’s show.

Bringing his hand to the small of your back, he gently guides you through the crowd of his relatives, before you’re on the way to his childhood bedroom.

It’s furnished in a minimalistic style, making it obvious that Alicent has spent some time decluttering her children’s rooms to make them more presentable for whenever guests stay over. The room basically is Aemond’s, and the rest belongs to Alicent.

Walking in behind you, he locks the door. You look around briefly before his firm chest is flush against your back with his arms around your waist, resting on your bump. He presses his lips to the curve of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head to the side, and a shuddered breath to escape your throat.

The feeling of his hard, clothed cock against the curve of your ass drives you to insanity, making you eager for more. He grinds against you as his fingers travel over your curves, and greedily fist the fabric of your dress.

“Let me help you undress, Mama,” he rasps against your skin, goosebumps prickling in its wake.

When he sinks to his knees behind you, you whimper quietly, immediately missing the heat of his breath and lips on your body.

“Aemond,” you breathe, looking down at him as he pushes your dress up.

The dumbfounded look that crosses his features with the skirt of your dress rucked up just shy beneath your bump has you chuckling, realization settling in.

“You went commando?”

Biting your bottom lip, you can basically see his excitement building, the bulge in the front of his slacks quite obvious despite him kneeling. “I was feeling… adventurous today,” you hum, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

He can’t help but to grin at your comment, and, on his way up, Aemond starts to press several kisses to the outside of your thigh, his fingers following in their trail.

Standing to full height again, looming over you, he keeps his hand beneath your bump, his fingers caressing your pubic mound.

You squeeze your thighs together in a desperate attempt to soothe the aching at the apex of them, since his fingers aren’t touching you where you need them most. An anticipating moan slips past your lips, a shiver shaking your core.

“I hope you’re prepared for me to be just as adventurous,” he hums, “... and thorough.”

His fingers hook under the thin straps of your dress, tugging them off your shoulders to push the elastic fabric down your curves and onto the ground. It’s pooling around your ankles in a white puddle, leaving you completely bare to him with just a few touches.

You shudder under his intense gaze, practically devouring you with just his lilac eyes, and try to break the tension by pulling him in for a kiss.

You turn around mid-kiss, your protruding belly a barrier between your bodies. Before your hands can entangle into his strands, Aemond catches them and intertwines your fingers. He creates a small distance between your bodies, taking a few steps back and pulling you with him.

His steps are deliberately slow, careful, and you’re encouraged to climb his lap as he sits down at the edge of the bed. Both his feet are firmly planted on the ground, supporting your swollen body.

He groans as you trap him between your legs, his hands roaming your curves almost immediately. The knowledge that he was the one responsible for the changes of your body, and that everybody else knew that as well, does something to him, making him all the more hungry for you.

It was even more addicting to see you sit astride him like a goddess, ready to claim what was yours already anyways. Him.

Feeling his clothed member throb beneath you, the urge to grind above him is as inviting as never, and you’re more than ready to give into the urge. Your wetness soaks his slacks, and the groan Aemond releases at the friction has you whimpering with him.

Your lips meet for a fervent kiss, and while your hands rest on his shoulders, his are eager to explore the swell of your belly. His tongue finds its way past your lips, swirling around yours in a way that turns the kiss into all teeth and tongue.

Dragging your teeth over his kiss swollen bottom lip, he tilts his head upwards and nudges the tip of his nose against yours. You lick over his lips once, but when you lean in to connect your lips again, Aemond stops you with his hand around your throat.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he rasps, his voice husky.

You haven’t sat on his face in weeks, or rather ever since the round ligament pain kicked in and made even the simplest daily tasks difficult for you.

Your eyes widen. “But– I–”

“No, you’re not too heavy,” he interrupts, cocking one eyebrow at you.

There’s not even a chance for you to reject before he lies down and hooks his hands beneath your thighs, hoisting you up and pulling you towards his face. You sit on his chest, barely seeing his chiseled features from under your bump.

As the position you are in truly settles in your mind, a bright blush starts to cover the apples of your cheeks. His angelic looks don't help either, strands of silver hair splayed out around his head like a halo, and his piercing lilac eyes fixed on you and you only. “But you tell me when it gets too much, no?” you ask, coyly.

Aemond rubs his hands over your bare thighs in comfort, nodding. “Always.” Deep down you know it’s a lie, because he has told you on more than one occasion that he’d gladly leave the world suffocated by your delicious pussy, but you trust the feigned security he offers.

“No promises about how long I’ll last, though,” you tell him.

A gentle pat to your thigh is what has you eventually inching forwards until your knees are on either side of his head.

With your bump being quite protruding, you can’t even see him anymore, you only hear his groans and growls when you cautiously settle in the new position.

The attempt to slightly hover your pussy over his face is fruitless the moment your husband’s hands fly to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you down onto his face. Just his nose perfectly teasing your clit has you moaning out loudly already, even though he hasn’t even used his tongue yet.

And then it follows.

Aemond greedily laps at your entrance as his hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place and playing you like a fiddle. It circles around your clenching hole, teasing it but never one dipping it inside.

You clench around nothing, and bring one hand to your bump while the other just rests above his hand on your hip, squeezing it. Chasing the friction and warmth of his tongue, you rock your hips back and forth as much as his grip allows, coaxing whimpers and mewls to leave your lips.

“Gods be good,” you whimper, the grip of your thighs around his face tightening. “I–I forgot how good you are at this.”

Seemingly keening at your praise, you’re almost disappointed when he pulls his hand off of yours to cup your ass cheeks, yanking you impossibly closer. The groans that vibrate against your pussy send shivers up your spine that make you lose yourself in the pleasure, not focusing on where his hands are.

At this point, Aemond was feasting at you like a man starved, all but devouring you with newfound vigor. His nose flicks against your clit with expert precision every time he tilts his head or you move your hips, drawing you closer to your orgasm.

His index finger comes into play, teasing your throbbing folds for a split second. His true intentions, however, only show the moment it starts to circle around your other hole.

“Fuck, Aemond, I-” you manage as he carefully dips his finger into your hole, the added stimulation almost immediately tightening the coil in your belly. A muffled groan of appreciation shakes your core as he feels your unused hole tighten around his finger.

You roll your hips against Aemond’s mouth on the race to completion, any thoughts of being too heavy for him long gone, and replaced by nothing else than raw need and desire.

It’s almost too much. Straddling the fine line between overwhelming and just the right amount. His nose rubs your clit, his lips lap hungrily at your swollen folds, and his index finger fills you pleasantly – he is redoubling his efforts.

You keep dragging your hips back and forth in rhythm with his movements, fucking his face on the brink of your release.

“Oh God, you-you’re so good– Aemond, I’m–I’m–” you ramble, breathy whimpers filling in between the words.

Hearing him slurp and groan beneath your trembling frame brings a blush to your face and stokes the fire in your belly, the sounds fanning through the room like your moans and whimpers.

When the coil finally snaps, you throw your head back in ecstasy and clamp your thighs around his head, hot, white pleasure licking its way up your spine. His name topples off your lips more than once, accompanied by desperate mewls and whines. He is relentless, licking you through your orgasm.

You don’t wait long enough for the aftershocks to fully subside, the overstimulation of his tongue dragging through your folds becoming too much, and cup your pregnant belly as you heave your frame off of his face, shifting backwards down his body.

“Fuck, I–I need you,” you all but beg, eagerly tugging on the collar of his black shirt.

Aemond seems to share your enthusiasm, and is quick to sit up again, meeting your lips for a deep kiss. Only when you cup his cheeks do you feel that they’re covered in your arousal, the taste of you on his tongue clouding your mind.

Your belly is between you again, but Aemond manages to swiftly undo the zipper in the front of his slacks nevertheless, and shoves them down just enough to free his aching cock.

“So desperate for my cock now, mh?” Aemond pants against your lips, a smug smirk tugging on the corners.

His hand wraps around his stiff member, fisting himself raw twice, thrice, before another pat served to your thigh encourages you to raise your hips. He aligns himself with your soaked entrance, and you feel his tip prodding gingerly at it.

As you sink down on him, your hands tightly gripping the collar of his shirt, you release a shuddered breath. Your husband, on the other hand, escapes a relieved groan, his head tipping back for a moment.

With your limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you bow your head forwards, lowering yourself on him until he is balls deep inside of you. “Mh, fuck, you didn’t even bother to take off your pants,” you taunt, “so desperate to be inside me.”

Aemond’s words die on his tongue as you start to sensually roll your hips over his, the added weight of the bump not allowing you to bounce up and down on him with the vigor you had used before your pregnancy.

But your husband doesn’t seem to mind, his eyes journeying into the back of his head at the sensation.

Moving his hands to grope and grasp at every inch of your body, they eventually settle on your full breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples between his nimble fingers while you unravel astride him. It prompts you to arch your back, all but shoving your breasts into his face.

“So fucking good,” he grunts, embracing it and wrapping his lips around your pert nipple while his arms snake around your body.

He licks and sucks at your little bud like he has done with your pussy before, and, just judging by the smacking and humming sounds he makes, it’s possible there ooze a few droplets of milk out of it.

Aemond places his feet firmly on the ground, and starts to buck his hips up into yours, seemingly impatient for his own release as he meets the sensual rolls of your hips and bullies the spongy spot inside of you with more determination.

Loud, wet sounds from where your bodies meet echo off the walls, indistinct to you with all you can focus on being his lips at your heavy breasts, and his cock deep inside of you.

You bite your bottom lip and stop the rolling of your hips, making it evident that you were close to your orgasm. The tingling at the base of your spine makes it impossible to move any further and you rely on him to take over.

Aemond pulls back and watches you gleefully as the force of his thrusts makes your body squirm and jerk, eagerly anticipating you to topple over the edge for the second time.

“You’re gonna cum on my cock already?” he asks, almost mockingly.

You frantically nod, breathing a yes.

His hands come to your hips, and with his fingers digging into your flesh, he drags your hips back and forth, your clit rubbing against the hem of his shirt with each movement. You’re not able to gasp more than yeses and pleases, clenching tightly around him.

The intensity of his thrusts increases while you have stopped moving, toes curling as the taut string inside of you snaps without a warning and white stars cloud your vision.

“Mh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, clawing at his shoulders as you ride out your high, grinding and rolling your hips against his. Your walls clamp around him like a vice, and he chokes on a husky groan. “Oh God, I love you.“

And even though your orgasm subsides slowly, Aemond refuses to slow down, keeping his heedless pace and pursuing his own completion.

He has his lips around your other nipple by now, sucking and nibbling on it, the vibrations of his groans coursing through your veins. “Daddy, mh, cum for me, please,” you whine, desperate for his cum.

Your body, however, contradicts your words and moans, your thighs squeezing his in a desperate attempt to stop him from pounding into your overstimulated pussy – but to no avail.

“God, please.”

His pace is as reckless and merciless as before, his cock all but forcing its way in and out of your quivering walls as he doesn’t listen to your desperate pleas.

Pulling back from your nipple with a lewd pop, a string of saliva connects the dark areola and his swollen lips as he gazes up at you with half-lidded eyes. “Hush now, Mommy,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss you. The nickname coaxes a smug smirk on his lips. “Taking me so well, such a good girl for Daddy.” With just his praise, a warmth overtakes your body that drowns out the burning, your chest swelling.

You sling your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in the silver strands of his hair in a way that is destined to ruin the little updo he had put it in this morning.

“Mh, fuck, I’m gonna–” his words are cut off with a stutter of his hips, and he feels his throbbing cock spill deep inside of you.

You ride him through his high with lazy rolls of your hips, biting through the overstimulation, and clench and unclench around him as you milk him for every drop of his seed.

If he hadn’t gotten you pregnant already, he surely would have knocked you up after this.

Aemond languidly fucks up into you now as the last spurts of his warm release fill you to the brim, grunting and groaning until the euphoria fades.

He collapses on the bed, a blissed out expression on his face, and reaches to trace his fingers over the swell of your bump up to the curve of your breasts. Rolling the darkened buds between them, he smirks as he watches you squirm, his softening cock still buried inside of you.

“You know,” he starts, folding one arm behind his head. His voice is softer than before, but has a teasing edge to it. “I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew by now what we’ve been up to.”

You laugh breathlessly and plant your hands on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over it. “But at least they don’t have to worry about you getting me pregnant by accident,” you tease.

“True enough,” he chuckles softly, “Fuck, I’m–I just can’t help myself. Seeing your body swell just because of my seed fucking does something to me.”

His words make you blush, and you appreciatively run your hands over your bump.

You lean forwards and cup his face, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He smirks against your mouth, and subconsciously bucks his hips into yours as he feels you clench around him.

With a groan rumbling in his chest, he pulls back. Something dark flickers in his eyes, his intentions evident when he speaks again.

“Once our boy’s born, I’ll make quick work of making you a mother of two.”

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 @ammo23

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 3 months

Text

did some force take you because i didn’t pray?

── aegon x fem!reader (you’re one of helaena’s lady’s in waiting)

the 2 times Aegon had someone there to comfort him

(i’m slightly changing things but just go with it pls)

small a/n before we begin: no use of y/n, i do my best to avoid descriptors BUT do use she / her and mention reader being shorter than aegon. when he hugs / holds you he is able to rest his head on yours. also i know everyone has titles and long names but to save time and also make it easier i just use first names. changing aegon’s rant just so im not word for word with the show.

also disclaimer: i know aegon is not a good person by any means! this is just the alternate reality version of him where things could turn out different if he’s shown genuine love and care

For as long as you’ve known the Targaryen family, it dawns on you one day that you’ve never seen Aegon cry.

In the beginning, that didn’t mean much. You were one of Helaena’s ladies’ in waiting, and only ever saw the then prince on occasion.

Then Aegon was crowned King, and you saw him a bit more as Helaena was required to be present at what felt like too many ceremonies. Because you were almost exactly the same age, although it was against an unspoken rule, she came to see you as a friend.

When the twins were born and Helaena saw how good you were with them, it seemed to anyone who was around that she wanted you near at all times. She practically begged you to begin sleeping in her chambers to help with the fussing and crying at night, and of course you said yes. It occurred to you later that night that she could’ve just demanded it.

It wasn’t long at all before the twins also formed an attachment, as their mothers need to have you close by didn’t lessen even as they got older.

Though they both loved you, Jaehaerys in particular, was very fond of you. Jaehaera was a lot more independent and chose to play with her dolls or little trinkets by herself. But the boy, the other ladies’ in waiting and even Helaena herself, often called him your little shadow.

Whatever task you were given, it wasn’t uncommon for Jaehaerys to be nearby. As he grew a little older, he began to ask questions.

Once, he asked why his mother wore such fancy dresses, but yours and the rest of the ladies’ were only ever plain. It hadn’t occurred to you that because you spent so much time with him and had a big hand in raising him, he saw you as family and genuinely didn’t understand why you dressed differently.

Luckily, you didn’t need to answer. Aegon appeared from around the corner, calling for his son. Once Jaehaerys ran to him, he gave you a nod before grabbing his sons hand and leading him in the opposite direction.

To the King, you were a mystery. He knew his sister preferred you to the other ladies’ in waiting, and he knew she’d rather you over any of them to be looking after the twins when she was busy, but he didn’t know why. Still, his sister was set in her ways, and in the end he simply decided it was best to not ask questions. Even he could see that you cared deeply for his children, and for him that was enough.

On the day Aegon wished for his son to sit in on a council meeting, Jaehaerys was being a bit difficult that morning. For whatever reason, he refused to go unless it was you that escorted him.

After assuring him that you’d only get the boy in the room and then quickly make your exit, Aegon nodded and led the 2 of you into the room.

Just like you knew he would, Jaehaerys immediately went for “the ball” as he called it, in front of Tyland Lannister. You could see irritation immediately all over the man’s face, but to his credit he did his best to hide it.

The third time the ball was grabbed, you were the only one that heard it when Tyland snapped. The meeting hadn’t yet begun but you could see he already wished it to be over.

“That child doesn’t belong in here,” he muttered to himself, unaware that you could hear him.

“I will escort him to his mothers chambers now. Is the heir to the throne bothering you a bit too much?” That last bit slipped out, and you immediately regretted it as the room grew silent and all eyes turned to the 3 of you. After a few tense seconds, most everyone resumed their conversations.

You slowly stood up, Jaehaerys now on your back as that was the only way he agreed to leave the room. “Apologies Ser Lan—”

“Hold on,” the room stilled once again when it was Aegon that spoke this time. He looked at you, then back at Tyland. “She has nothing to apologize for. And I believe she asked you a question. Is the heir to the throne, my son, is he bothering you?”

Even Alicent opted to look down and fiddle with her hands rather than step in. You didn’t think you’d ever been more grateful for Aegon that in that moment.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

ONE.

On the night Jaehaerys was murdered, you were knocked unconscious. You’d later find out it was the man they called Blood that hurt you, but at the time all you knew / remembered was waking to a loud noise. Immediately you got out of bed, but before you could properly realize what was happening, you felt something sharp across your cheek. And before you’d even had time to cry out, something hard hit the side of your head, causing everything to go dark.

When you woke, you ignored the maesters requests to stay in bed. As soon as you stood up, you almost wished you’d listened as you immediately felt dizzy. That was also when you felt the stinging pain of the cut on your cheek. The maester explained that you wouldn’t need to have it stitched up, but he hadn’t yet bandaged you because even in your sleep, you tossed and turn whenever he tried to tend to that injury.

After agreeing to not over exert yourself, you were off to find Helaena. It was then that another one of the ladies’ in waiting broke the news to you.

When you were let in to Alicent’s chambers, and locked eyes with Helaena, she immediately stood up from her spot on the floor and ran to you, Jaehaera still held tightly in her arms.

“Are you alright?” You knew she would be with the maester if she were injured, but you still had to ask. “They said—”

“He’s dead,” was all Helaena could say. That and “they killed him”.

What felt like an eternity later, and you’d gotten Jaehaera to sleep and convinced Helaena to at least lay down with her, you were unsure of what to do. Only a few moments later, you found yourself wandering the halls. Every inch of the place had been searched almost immediately, so you know that the halls were alright once again.

Part of you felt like you didn’t have a right to mourn Jaehaerys, as he wasn’t actually your son. You were just trying to process the fact that you’d never see his little smile again. Never again would you turn a corner and be greeted with that sweet voice asking where the 2 of you were going, because him staying with anyone else was out of the question.

You were one of the first to hold him after he was born, and had seen him every day since. To already be in a world where he no longer existed, it seemed cruel.

When you stopped walking, you realized that you’d come to Aegon’s chambers. The doors were obviously closed, and you had only managed to take a few steps back the way you came, when you heard them open.

“Oh, good,” you turned around, surprised that it was Alicent that had spoken. “Did Helaena send you?”

You stuttered as you tried to form a response, but she seemed to take your silence as a confirmation.

“He’s distraught, obviously. I’m not sure he’ll speak to you but…” she seemed unsure of herself. In the end she sort of motioned towards the doors, before turning and walking away.

Before you even raised your hand to knock, you heard sobbing. It was then that you realized you were wrong. Yes, your heart could break even more.

It didn’t escape your notice that Alicent left the room as her son was sobbing. You knew she wasn’t the comforting type, but you couldn’t imagine simply walking the other way.

After a few knocks, you weren’t surprised when there was no answer. As you slowly opened the door, then shut it behind you, you thought to yourself that you should’ve thought about what to say beforehand. Here was this normally stone-faced man, showing more emotion now than he had in the entire time you’d known him. And after more thought, you realized that perhaps Alicent had tried to comfort him but was asked to leave.

“Who is there?” Aegon finally seemed to notice someone else’s presence, but hadn’t actually looked up. His head remained in his hands, and you could hear him trying to quiet his cries.

“I am sorry, I— I just thought I should check on you.” You noticed how pathetic you sounded only after the words left your mouth.

He let out a humorless chuckle, then slowly stood up and made his way towards you. “Check up on me?”

You nodded. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. Stupid question to ask if you’re okay, I know.”

He studied your face for a moment, and his guard came down ever so slightly. He believed your concern to be genuine. And for Gods sakes, his own mother couldn’t even comfort him. She left quietly and Aegon knew it was in the hopes that he wouldn’t know she’d ever entered the room.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to answer you. Instead he returned to his sitting position, once again leaning forward so that his head was in his hands.

“I should’ve been there,” he spoke so softly that you didn’t quite hear him.

“Pardon?”

He looked up at you, fresh tears in his eyes. “I should’ve been there!” When he saw how you flinched, he regretted being so loud. But a larger part of him didn’t care. You were the first person to allow him to speak freely. He needed to let out his emotions somewhere. “I should have been there. But I thought who’d be stupid enough to try anything here? Look at how wrong I was.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” you shook your head.

“That is bullshit!” He stood up and began pacing back and forth. “My son is DEAD! It was an act of revenge, why else do you think the rest of you were left alive?”

You were about to ask if they already know who is responsible, but it’s as if he read your mind.

“My brother kills her son, so she has taken it upon herself to exact revenge, a son for a son!” He laughs, but again there is no humor in his tone. “My son, the heir to the throne, he is gone. Murdered while he slept and I did nothing!”

As he sat crying, you kneeled in front of him. Trying not to think about it too much, you placed your hands on his and forced him to look at you.

“Everyone around knows how much you love that boy. And he loved you just as much.” You decided it was better to not repeat that he couldn’t have done anything. Right now in front of you, was a father who needed to grieve.

Aegon knew he should be cautious. His sister knew you well, but he did not. He was already ashamed that you’ve seen him cry. Yet you didn’t seem repulsed. You allowed him to rant and didn’t try to shove advice down his throat. His son was gone, but you reminded him of the love that existed, that still exists.

The angry part of him wanted to shout at you to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to yell again in that moment. So he allowed your hands to remain on his as he cried for his son.

You prayed that no one would walk in, as you stood up and pulled Aegon up with you. Before he could ask what was happening, you gave him a hug.

His first instinct was again, one of anger. He resisted the brief urge to push you away. After a few seconds, he even surprised himself when he almost melted into your touch. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he was in someone else’s embrace like this. And you didn’t ask questions. You only held him and listened to his heartbeat.

He found himself crying again as he returned the gesture and wrapped his arms around you. Although he knew he could never speak of this, and he’d have to ask that you not do the same at some point, he allowed himself to do nothing but mourn the loss of his son as you held him in your arms, and you in his.

He was grateful that at least in this moment, you allowed him to grieve.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

TWO.

After that, there was a noticeable change. Aegon gravitated towards you if he entered a room and you were already there. Everyone noticed, but none dared to speak on the matter, not even Alicent or Otto.

You heard about the meeting in which it was ultimately decided that Jaehaerys’ body would be placed on a carriage led through the streets, so that the public might see just what Queen Rhaenyra was capable of. You didn’t think this was her doing. How could a mother who has just lost her son, inflict that pain onto someone else? Surely she wouldn’t. But everyone else was so sure. And you were but a low-born lady in waiting, so you remained silent.

The thought of Jaehaerys being used, paraded through the streets for all to gawk at, it angered you. Yes, he was a prince. And you understood the message that they hoped it would send, but it didn’t make you any less upset. He was just a boy. You thought of the boy who would run into your embrace whenever you walked in to his mothers chambers.

You couldn’t even imagine how Aegon was feeling. He loved that boy deeply, and you had no doubt that he was pressured into agreeing.

That same night, you were abruptly woken up. Immediately you looked to Helaena’s bed, filled with relief to see her and Jaehaera fast asleep. But it alarmed you that it was Ser Criston Cole of all people, who’d woken you up.

He put a finger to his lips, then turned and exited the room. You made sure you looked at least half decent before you followed him, wondering what on earth possessed him to wake you at such an hour.

“I—” He looked unsure of where to start.

“Has something happened?”

“It’s the King.” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead turning and practically running out of the room.

As you chased after him, it did occur to you that it was odd for him to fetch the King’s sisters ladies’ in waiting. You also realized that he never technically responded when you asked if something happened.

When the 2 of you finally reached Aegon’s chambers, Criston didn’t even open the door. He didn’t need to though, you could hear the shouting and loud noises from outside.

“Who else is in there?” You fiddled with your hands, unsure of what you were walking into.

Criston merely shook his head. “No one. He kicked everyone out. But I know you helped him that— that night. Can you…?”

Without giving it a second thought, you nodded. Instead of leaving, Criston sort of stood guard right outside the door. You’d seen Aegon angry before, and were secretly relieved that he was outside should anything go wrong.

This time, you didn’t bother knocking. You did, however, try to open and then close the door as quietly as possible.

“I declare war!” It was the first thing you heard since entering the room, and you didn’t bother asking who he was declaring war on.

“My King —”

It was as if he was in a sort of angry trance. You speaking didn’t even cause him to look in your direction.

“I want them all dead! They’ll all pay for this, every fucking one of them!” As he spoke, he moved about the room destroying King Viserys’ carefully and meticulously constructed display.

You could see he needed to let his anger out. And didn’t exactly want to approach him while he held something that could hurt you. Not that he intentionally would, but seeing as he had no reaction to you calling out to him, you didn’t think it wise to sneak up on him.

As the smashing and destruction went on, you could see Aegon begin to wear himself out. It wasn’t so much that the anger was leaving his body, but rather that he was losing the energy to continue. Now, you thought to yourself, was a good time to gauge where he’s at mentally / emotionally.

“My King—” you tried again. This would be a moment you’d come to regret, seeing as you hadn’t considered the fact that Aegon was so blinded by his rage that he hadn’t noticed it was you in the room. Sure he heard the doors open and close, but he assumed it had been one of his men.

Not registering who it was that just spoke, and only hearing that someone was interrupting his rampage, he turned around with an arm swung out. It ended up being sort of a backhanded slap, and unfortunately he was wearing a ring.

Once he realized it was you that he’d just harmed, Aegon froze. His eyes widened and he immediately dropped to his knees.

“Are you hurt? Did I— did I…” He didn’t seem to know what he wanted to ask.

You put a hand to your cheek and examined your fingers, nothing a small amount of blood. He hit almost exactly where you were cut, and by the feel of it you guessed that his hit reopened the wound.

“It’s fine,” you tried to reassure him. “I am sure I will be healed in no time. There is no need—” Before you could finish speaking, he’d fled from the room, but not before hurriedly asking you to stay put.

Only a short while later he returned with the maester quickly following behind him.

As the man tended to your face, you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he debated on speaking. In the end, he decided to ask the question.

“How did you manage to reopen this wound?”

Luckily for you, you’d studied the room and had your answer prepared.

You pointed to a spot on the floor where a glass of wine lay spilt. “I slipped just there. Tried to steady myself and ended up landing on my face and cutting it with one of the broken pieces.”

Because you spoke immediately and with such confidence, your lie was believed.

“Might not heal as well if it’s opened a third time. Still doesn’t need stitches, just try not to fall again, eh?” He gave you a pat on the shoulder before giving you a small jar of ointment to apply to the cut, instructing you to apply it once a day.

As soon as the man left the room, you studied Aegon. He was pacing the entire time, only stopping once the maester had left.

“Why?” He whispered.

You knew what he was asking. “I did not think it would do any good for him to know the truth. I know you didn’t mean to,” you shrugged.

He was almost in a state of shock. Here he’d just injured you, accidentally, sure, but it was still done in anger. And it wasn’t that long ago that he broke down in front of you. Despite all of that, you were still kind to him. You covered for him.

Aegon fell to his knees once again in front of a large portion of the mess he created. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly.

“My King you do not need to apologize. As I said, I know it wasn’t on purpose.”

He looked up at you, fresh tears in his eyes, and you lost count on how many times your heart broke for him. You joined him on the floor, and put what you hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t do anything right,” the first tear fell, but he didn’t bother wiping it away. “I allowed men to break in and murder my son, and this is twice now you’re hurt because of me.”

The fact that he blamed himself for it still, brought tears to your eyes as well.

“No one thinks this was your doing, and I swear to you that I don’t blame you.”

He was silent for a moment, deep in thought. “How am I meant to continue?”

His question caught you off guard. “Pardon?”

“My son is dead. Murdered, and my dear sister that claims to be the rightful heir may not have held the knife but I know she commanded the men that did. How am I supposed to to sit on the throne and continue to rule as if none of this has happened?”

“I do not think anyone expects you to act as if nothing has happened —”

Hearing that caused Aegon to laugh. “Have you met my mother? She is one of the many against me declaring war.”

“This tragedy —”

He cuts you off once again. “Tragedy? Hah! Understatement of the fucking year. And people are already speaking about my sons murder as if it’s a lesson! My grandfather, dear old Otto Hightower, wants to parade my sons body for all to see. Says it will show them the kind of Queen that Rhaenyra really is. You should’ve seen how many nodded their heads in agreement. How do I just hand him over to be stared at, as if he is no more than a piece of meat on display at the market?”

“I hate this,” you finally get a chance to speak. “Jaehaerys was the sweetest little boy I kno—knew. And I wish his death wasn’t being used in this way. A tragedy should not always be a lesson. Sometimes it should be allowed to be just that, a tragedy. I am truly sorry you are having to deal with all of this.”

Something about what you’ve said causes tears to spring to Aegon’s eyes. Perhaps it’s the way you speak so kindly of his son. He knows you genuinely loved the boy, after all. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” His quiet sobs begin as he echoes your use of those 2 words, and when you turned to face him, he practically falls into your embrace. You stop counting how many times he utters I’m sorry. In between the I’m sorry’s, he mostly said his sons name, but you heard your name as well as Helaena and Jaehaera’s.

Night turned into morning and Aegon finds himself in your arms once again. Eventually his sobs had slowed down, and he fell asleep, laying on the hard floor with his head in your lap.

As he slept, you allowed yourself to run your hands through his hair, just for a moment. Aegon let out a content sigh, finding comfort in your movements even in his sleep.

Here was this boy who was feared by many, who didn’t ever want anyone to see him as weak, and yet twice he allowed himself to cry and grieve in front of you.

At some point, you gently wake Aegon and convince him to get into bed.

As you take one last look at him before exiting his chambers, you can’t help but silently hope that the future would be a little kinder to him.

TAGLIST — @blupblupfish | @sapphirest0nes

If you’d like to be tagged in future Aegon pieces, let me know!

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delulujuls · 3 months

Text

the right one | jacaerys velaryon

hi, here comes the pt2 for the other one because i think i might actually be falling in love with jace lmao.

for the first time on this blog i tried not to use y/n mentioning because i know that not everyone is a fan of it so yeah, i hope i did well

also i know that the tension is immaculate here so i might write a smutty smut in pt3 eventually so lmk what you think!

summary: the hardened and hateful heart of the future king of westeros is no match for the tender and loving heart of the young prince of dragonstone. so it's not difficult to guess whose heart belongs to the young targaryen princess

warnings: swearing, mentions of threatening with a knife

pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. best-uncle-in-the-world daemon, aemond and this little menace to humanity aegon)

taglist: @gorlillaglue25 @aegonswife @fallout-girl219 @lyssaluvs @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @aleemendoza2425-blog @darkgvk @faeoffaith @slayraxes-blogs @lolilkkk

The young princess sat at the table, but her mind was elsewhere. She didn't participate in the lively conversations, nor did she laugh and joke as she had the previous evening during the feast. Her gaze was fixed on her wine goblet, from which she had not taken a single sip. Her silverware was also untouched.

The girl's behavior did not go unnoticed by those present. Jacaerys, who sat across from her, immediately noticed something was wrong. He didn't have the courage to ask, so he was relieved when the king took that burden off his shoulders.

"Is something troubling you, dear daughter?" he asked, addressing her. The princess didn't hear his question at first; she only came to her senses when Helaena nudged her arm.

"I must have caught a chill," she replied, adjusting her high-collared dress. "My throat hurts."

Aegon wished he could sink into the ground. He remembered the events of the previous night vaguely but knew what had happened. He knew what he had done. He sat next to his sister just as they had been seated the day before but he saw her pull her chair away. She had every right to. He had gone too far.

The king didn't notice Aegon's broken nose, which had been tended to by a maester that morning, nor did he remark on Jacaerys' bruised brow, which he tried to hide under his dark curls. Small scuffles between the boys were normal, and since everyone was sitting at the table eating together, he figured nothing major had happened. He was, however, worried about his daughter.

Daemon was not as blind as his brother, who might have been somewhat blinded by his illness. Viserys, however, had long failed to notice what was consuming his family. Perhaps he simply didn't want to see.

"A sore throat?" he asked as they both left the dining room. "Really?"

"I don't know what you mean," she replied, avoiding his gaze.

Daemon, however, watched her closely, and her reaction only confirmed his suspicion that something was wrong.

"I'm sure I have something for that," he said, nodding towards the corridor leading to the right. His look indicated he wouldn't take no for an answer. The girl followed him without a word. When they were in Daemon's chambers, the princess knew that lies were unnecessary. Her uncle must have seen through her at the table.

"So?" he asked, closing the door. "I'm all ears."

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, looking at him. The prince now saw even more clearly her puffy eyes from crying and her chapped lips. "Besides, it's nothing significant."

"Nothing significant, yet you wasted a night crying," he observed, pouring wine and offering her a goblet. She shook her head, so he took a sip himself.

The princess looked at him silently. She had no arguments. Daemon knew this perfectly well.

The young girl sighed, accepting her defeat. She lowered her gaze and unbuttoned a few buttons of her collar, which was fastened up to her chin. She parted the fabric to reveal her fair skin, marked by a thin, bloody cut.

Daemon took a sip from the goblet and set it down, approaching his niece. He pulled the fabric aside a bit more, looking at her neck.

"Care to share how you got that?"

"Aegon is a maniac who should be locked up in the Sept and treated," she said bitterly. "A drunk who thinks he's the lord of the world, to whom everyone must bow."

"So, I hope you taught him a lesson in humility?" he asked, moving to the table and picking up one of the ointments. He unscrewed it, returning to the girl and taking some on his finger.

"He has the same mark on his neck."

Daemon chuckled, shaking his head.

"You are impossible, I swear by the Seven," he scoffed, applying the ointment to the cut on her neck.

"They attacked Jace. I couldn't let that happen," she said, frowning. "Those fools think they can terrorize anyone they want. It's not true!"

The prince smiled, sitting down after a moment and taking the goblet in his hand.

"You defended Jacaerys?"

The young princess blushed and looked away. However, she nodded.

"Then it's clear," he answered, crossing his legs. "Aegon is jealous."

"He's a complete idiot!" she said angrily, pouring herself some wine. "Maybe I won't marry him after all, and what then? Maybe they'll find me another husband?"

"I'm afraid the decision has already been made, little bird," he said, looking at her. Her pale cheeks were flushed with embarrassment over her lover and anger at her brother.

"We're connected only by blood and name, nothing more," she cut bitterly, taking a sip of wine. "I will never love someone with such a hardened heart."

"Not like Jacaerys, right?" he asked, glancing at her. He was smiling, but it was a sad smile. All he could do was pity his niece.

"He's a good boy," she said, pressing the cool metal of the goblet to her lips. "His wife will be the happiest girl in Westeros."

This, however, could not be expected by Aegon's future wife. The young prince hadn't learned much from the previous night's events, as he refrained from drinking only at breakfast. But when only the maids remained in the dining room, he emptied almost half a jug of wine himself.

"Will you tell me what happened last night?" Aemond spoke from behind him, causing the elder brother to almost spill his wine. "I know you didn't go straight back to your room."

"Are you following me?" he looked at him nervously, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I was checking if you could make it back to bed in your current state."

The maids, who were cleaning up after breakfast, glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Aegon felt their gazes on him.

"Get out!" he shouted, gesturing for them to leave. Shortly after, the brothers were alone. Aegon sat heavily in one of the chairs and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I threatened her with a knife," he said quietly, feeling his confession burn his throat. "I threatened her with a knife while Helaena was asleep inches away."

He shook his head, reaching for the wine goblet. "If I had been more drunk, Helaena might have woken up in a bed full of blood with a corpse next to her."

Aemond only needed the first sentence from his brother. He took the goblet from his hand and threw it across the dining room. Aegon froze.

"This has to stop," Aemond said quietly and calmly, but sharply and firmly at the same time. "This has gone too far, Aegon."

The young prince rubbed his face with his hands and leaned on the armrests, pressing his joined fingers to his lips. His younger brother was right. He had crossed the line.

"You know I'm always on your side, but you threatened our sister," he shook his head. "I can't agree to something like that."

Aegon gritted his teeth and lowered his head. He felt tears in his eyes. He felt anger, regret, and guilt. But he wasn't angry at himself; he was angry at Jacaerys. He believed the fault lay with him, and if he hadn't been hitting on his sister, nothing would have happened.

"You're right," he sniffed. "I should kill that mongrel."

Aemond clenched his jaw. He didn't recognize the person before him. Had he been so blindly devoted to his brother all these years that he hadn't noticed what a monster he had become?

"You want to...kill him?" he asked, looking at him. He wanted to make sure he understood correctly.

Aegon nodded.

"It's all his fault!" he slammed his hands on the table. "If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened, and I wouldn't have raised a hand against that bitch!"

Aemond now saw before him not his beloved brother but a maniac wrapped in alcohol, hatred, and delusions. Tears were streaming down Aegon's face, but it was hard to tell their nature. Sorrow over hurting his sister? Anger? If so, at whom? At Jacaerys? At his sister? At himself?

However, Aegon wasn't the only one crying. In the doorway of the dining room stood their sister, who, drawn by the sound of the thrown goblet, had quietly peeked her head in. She had heard the entire conversation between her brothers and was devastated.

"You really are a monster," she said in a trembling voice. Two pairs of eyes turned towards her. Aegon hastily stood up, wanting to approach his sister, but Aemond firmly held him back, keeping him in place.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he sobbed, falling to his knees. Aemond still held him tightly, not wanting to let him do anything to their sister. Aegon was now unpredictable and had shown he posed a threat.

"Please, sweet sister!" he shouted, trying to free himself from Aemond's embrace "Please!"

The young princess took a step back, shaking her head and causing another cascade of tears to run down her cheeks. She couldn't believe what her brother had become.

Aegon fell at her feet, apologizing and begging for forgiveness, but she quickly left the dining room. She began heading towards Jacaerys' chambers, hoping to find the young prince there. However, he was busy searching for the girl just as she was.

They met by chance, bumping into each other on one of the staircases. Seeing her tear-streaked face, Jacaerys didn’t even have time to ask what had happened before she threw herself into his arms. He hugged her tightly, pressing her face to his chest.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he whispered, holding her close. “I’m here, it's okay.”

“Take me away from here,” she managed through her tears. She didn’t have to ask twice.

Not long after, they left the castle walls, which seemed to suffocate her. It wasn’t until the cold wind dried the tears on her cheeks that she was able to breathe. They walked along the stone wall towards the beach, not saying a word. The young princess clung to her nephew’s arm, who glanced at her from time to time, sincerely worried.

When they reached the beach, they sat on a salt-worn log cast ashore by the sea. Jacaerys pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the girl. She wiped her tears, staring at the waves angrily crashing against the shore. After a moment, she turned her gaze to the boy’s face, which looked at her with concern.

“Will you run away with me?” she asked, her voice filled with sorrow. “Far from here. Where the map doesn’t reach.”

The young prince smiled warmly at her and raised his hand, touching her tear-stained cheek and gently caressing it with his thumb.

“I haven’t been to the end of the map yet.”

The girl sniffed and lay down, resting her head on his lap. Jacaerys leaned down and kissed her cheek. He began to stroke her head, gently running his fingers through her hair. He wanted to ask what had happened when he found her crying. He wanted to ask if her mood at breakfast was really due to a sore throat. But he knew his questions were unnecessary and only thing that mattered was the comfort he could offer. The young princess gratefully accepted it.

She closed her eyes, listening to the whistle of the wind and the roar of the waves. After a while, the sound of the sea began to blend with the sound of the boy’s fingers gently moving through her hair. The girl’s bitter face took on a calm expression, and the tears on her cheeks dried. Jacaerys smiled softly to himself. He had calmed a dragon.

“Aegon threatened me with a knife,” the girl spoke after some time. Despite the heavy confession, her voice was calm. “He came to me at night, completely drunk, and tried to intimidate me.”

The young prince clenched his jaw, his whole body tensing. But he didn’t stop stroking her hair. The princess opened her eyes and turned her head away from the sea, fixing her gaze on him. A piece of her dress’s collar had shifted, and Jacaerys noticed the cut on her neck.

“I’m afraid to have someone like him as my husband.”

He cupped her face in his hand, leaning toward her.

“If you have fears, I’ll speak to the king myself,” he said calmly but firmly. “Either he will shake some sense into Aegon, or someone else will seek your hand.”

“No one will be brave enough, Jacaerys,” she shook her head, looking away. “They’ve already announced the news of the upcoming wedding to everyone.”

“I will be,” he said, capturing her violet eyes with his own. “I’m ready to fight for you, princess.”

The girl looked at him in shock, surprised by his words. She didn’t know what to say, but she knew what to do. She entwined her fingers in the prince’s dark curls and pulled him towards her, kissing him tenderly. She poured all the love she had inside into that kiss—a love that would never be given to the right person.

“And if they don’t want a fight, we’ll run away,” he continued, whispering into her lips.

“We’ll run away to where the map doesn’t reach.”

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd one shot #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

The Lost Haven (8/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, smut, the angst, broad description of suicide attempt (blood), forbidden relationship, half-manipulation, imprisonment, mention of murder, kind of toxic behaviour, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She knew that she was paying for her naivety and stupidity, for not listening to Daemon and her premonition. She wasn't even able to fully blame her uncle for what had happened, because even though he was the one who had imprisoned her, she had thrown herself into his arms herself.

She let him thrust into her body, she let him fill herself with his warm seed, thinking that perhaps there was a way for them, no matter how twisty and difficult.

Lying in his room on his bed, pretending she didn't see his pleading, desperate looks in her direction, she had plenty of time to think about herself and her life.

She realised that everything she was doing, her naivety, her desire to help him stemmed from the belief that if it was possible to fix him, to set him on the right path, to free him from this sullen, dark fate, there was also hope for her.

The hope that one day there would come a moment in her life when she would feel peace.

Meanwhile, instead of peace, something else filled her.

Emptiness.

She felt nothing when it turned out that he had taken her phone, when he locked his room door when he left, when he spoke to her or asked her something.

She pretended that all this wasn't happening, that she was actually on the beach, gazing out at the endless sea, listening to its sound.

She couldn't bear the sight of him, the smell of him, his touch, and everything she had dreamed of and held dear became, in her eyes, foreign and hated: hearing him, she felt as if a stranger, with whom she wanted nothing to do, was speaking to her.

She did not want his explanations.

His apology.

She felt nothing, experienced nothing, needed nothing.

She didn't even feel the need to go home: even if she were free again, it wouldn't change anything.

Her uncle had broken something in her and they both knew it.

Her heart trembled in sympathy and grief only at the sight of Helaena: his sister had been patient, warm and affectionate caretaker towards her. They did not, however, usually exchange even a word.

There was no need: she knew that Helaena was a hostage and prisoner of her family as much as she was, and that there was nothing she could do to help her.

"I'm worried about Aemond." She said one time, handing her a towel in the bathroom.

She could have covered herself with a curtain in the bath, but Helaena needed to be in the room with her.

They wanted to be sure she wouldn't hurt herself.

She looked at her and put on the T-shirt she got from her that served as her pyjamas.

She didn't answer.

She didn't know what.

Helaena looked at her fingers, playing with them in a nervous gesture exactly as her brothers had done, all probably inheriting it from their mother.

"I caught him browsing your Instagram account one evening, couple of months ago. He was sitting in the living room with a drink and thought he was alone. He was about to do something with our grandfather. He didn't hear me come downstairs and freaked out. He turned off his app as soon as he saw me."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling a squeeze in her heart, discomfort, pain and heat ripple through her body at the thought that, contrary to what she thought, he hadn't forgotten her at all.

"I tried to help him and he took advantage of me. Forgive me, but I am no longer able to sympathise with him." She whispered, picking up her things from the floor. His sister swallowed hard, looking up at her.

"Since that night. Since our father died. Since he saw you. For a moment, something changed in him. He seemed content. Calmer than usual. He told me he was thinking of going to university part-time. I didn't know you were the one helping him with that." She muttered, stepping closer to her, looking somewhere to the side, as if distracted.

"You can't save someone who doesn't want it." She said in a trembling voice, wondering what she wanted from her, how could she think that after what he had done to her she would care about his decisions and what he chose to do.

He had mocked her, objectified her, humiliated her.

He left her with nothing, stripped her of all virtues and values.

"Our grandfather knows when to act like part of the family and when to act like a ruler. He does this to each of us. He knows our weaknesses. Our unfulfilled desires, our flaws, our complexes. He knows who among us is the most miserable, the most vulnerable. The most weak." She said, avoiding eye contact with her, looking around the room, tense.

She pressed her clothes to her chest, feeling the squeeze in her throat at her words, the sympathy and pain that showed she was no different from him.

They both were weak.

They always were, even then, during that summer.

They were sad, hopeless and small children, finding each other in the end, comforting one another with their presence.

"I can't help him anymore. He's made his decision and I'm here. I don't think there's anything more we can say to each other."

That night she couldn't sleep: he hadn't been back for a long time wherever he was, and the thought that perhaps someone had shot him or taken revenge on him didn't fill her with peace.

Despite everything she felt, she didn't want him to die.

She shuddered when she heard footsteps in the corridor and then the sound of a key turning in the lock. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep when he came inside, closing the door behind him.

She heard him pull off his jacket and shoes, trying not to make any noise, and then he came towards her, leaning over her with a quiet sigh. She swallowed hard when he gently covered her with the duvet, when his wide, warm hand combed through her hair as if she were a small child.

She was furious with herself that she felt tears under her eyelids as soon as he pulled away and lay down on the mattress, when she heard him say hello to Vhagar, who licked his fingers.

She was furious that some part of her still craved his closeness, that his touch made her feel safe, just as it had then, that summer.

The only joy in her days filled with shame and grief was Vhagar.

Her uncle's dog was gigantic and had big brown eyes. Vhagar was as distrustful as he was and did not approach her at first, but watched her closely as she lay on the floor, and when she held out her hand to her, she sniffed the air, wanting to smell her with her large, black, wet nose.

Like him, Vhagar required patience and understanding, respecting her barriers.

Eventually, however, she allowed herself to be touched, sealing her acceptance with a long, sticky lick from which her fingers were all moist. Being with her and touching her soft, warm fur was a form of therapy for her: she couldn't find comfort in his arms even though she craved it, and she knew he was dying to touch her.

However, if she broke down and let him, she would lose the remnants of her self-respect and her own dignity.

Although she tried to reject these thoughts and feelings that filled her, what she had repressed during the day came back to her in her dream: she saw her uncle lying in a pool of blood, his face cut, his eyes gouged out in revenge for what he had done to one of the men who had not paid him on time.

The scream she let out seemed inhuman to her and she didn't even know she had really let it out. She pulled herself up on the bed, terrified by the darkness and the fact that she did not recognise the room she was in when she heard something move on the floor.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" She heard his voice and looked at him with big eyes, whooping with her own tears, sobbing loudly as she felt relieved despite everything he had done to her.

He was alive.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He asked, looking at her with a sincere worry from which she felt pain in her heart, thinking in disbelief that she wanted to throw herself into his arms and cuddle up to him.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered soothingly, rising slowly, approaching her uncertainly. She lifted her shoulders up, simultaneously wanting and not wanting this.

She felt a pleasant shiver as he sat down beside her, his hand gently touching her shoulder.

She swallowed hard when he dared to put his other hand on her head and sank his face into her neck – she felt like bursting into sobs feeling his familiar scent, his familiar warmth, her body relaxing involuntarily into his embrace against her will.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –" He assured her, only to sink his face into the top of her head a moment later, stroking her shuddering body soothingly with his hands.

You've already done it, she thought with pain.

The person before whom she was most vulnerable, whom she allowed to touch her naked body, whom she allowed to be deep inside her, as intimate as possible.

She thought, feeling her body convulsing as she tried to calm her breathing, that she had nothing left.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out, surprising herself with these words that came straight from her heart.

She heard him draw in the air loudly, terrified, rocking her in his embrace as if she were a small child.

"– no – don’t say that – it won’t take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He whispered as if he thought that was what she meant.

That she just wanted to go home.

"– you broke my heart –" She said, wanting him to understand that her going back anywhere wouldn't change anything, because what he had done to her no place could fix.

She didn't really care now where she was or what was happening to her.

She felt regret towards herself that when she heard him burst out crying she involuntarily felt sympathy for him.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, his warm, full lips starting to place wet, lingering, desperate kisses on her face, wanting to somehow soften her words and what she had said, but she felt worse and worse.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

Lie.

"– I don't believe you –"

She heard him wail quietly, hugging her as tightly as if he wanted to break her bones, melt into one with her so she could never escape him again.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, and she clenched her eyes shut, herself feeling the hot tears one by one begin to run down her face.

They were just empty words that couldn't change anything.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She whined into his neck, finally saying what she had been feeling all this time, the regret, the disappointment, the terror and the emptiness she felt deep inside her flowed out of her mouth.

She was sure he was going to start denying it, saying he would make it up to her, but instead she heard his mournful cry, his kisses on her face, neck and shoulders loud, sticky, ravenous, his breath heavy and raspy, making her feel a pleasant tickle between her thighs in spite of herself.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out and she snuggled into him harder, wanting to hurt and comfort him at the same time, to reject and accept him deep inside her.

Some part of her wanted to believe him again.

She gasped, surprised to feel her nipples grow hard, to feel her warm cunt pulsate around nothing as his broad hand slid slowly under her t-shirt, trailing down her back while his swollen lips did not pull away from her bare skin.

"– I love you –" He assured her, the strokes of his hand, his wet, hot lips increasingly ambiguous and intimate, the tips of his fingers trailing down her spine, making a wonderful shiver run through her again and again, from which she finally moaned.

"– you hurt me –" She mumbled out regretfully through her tears, inhaling his scent, hating him for how good she felt with him, hating him for how much she wanted him, hating him for needing him so badly and him taking advantage of her.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, pressing her tighter to him, her lips in some subconscious, involuntary reflex brushing against his neck, tasting his sweat and his perfume.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He exhaled, their fingers clenching tighter on their bodies, proving where this was going, how much they both needed comfort, reassurance, a moment of pleasure and warmth, what only they could give each other.

She shuddered and froze when she felt his hand slide down her back to her bare buttocks, digging his fingers into them, feeling the cold sweat on her neck.

She pushed him away, panting heavily, and quickly moved away, pressing her back against the cold wall. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling her whole body quiver with desire, her cunt pulsing greedily, dripping all over from her wetness.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out, shaking her head, horrified at the effect he had on her, how easily he manipulated her.

She was a stupid idiot, exactly as Daemon had said.

Her uncle shook his head, moving closer to her, in some pathetic, helpless gesture grabbing her calves, kissing her knees as if he wanted to fall to her feet.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She asked with anger, thinking that surely that was the case, that this was just part of their plan.

She couldn't let them down, she couldn't make a fool of herself once again.

Her uncle looked at her with eyes red from tears, his face all swollen, his lips parted in a heavy, raspy breaths.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered and she shook her head, thinking she couldn't believe him.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out, herself no longer knowing what she was feeling or thinking.

She turned her face to the wall and hugged its cold structure as if she wanted to melt into it, the space between her thighs hot and wet, throbbing from the tension that filled her entire lower abdomen.

She pursed her lips into a thin line when she felt him clamp his hand on her waist, his face pressed against her back.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined pleadingly, falling into hysteria, bursting out in such a loud, pitiful, almost childish cry that she began to weep herself, not knowing what to do, where to go to escape the chaos of feelings and thoughts that were filling her head.

Although she wanted to, she couldn't push him away after those words and she let him fall asleep cuddled into her back.

The next day, lying down, staring at the wall, waiting for him to wake up, she looked between her and the bed and saw something shiny on the floor. She slipped her hand into the gap and when she caught it, she thought with a heavy beating heart that it was the blade to a small bookbinding knife.

She swallowed loudly as she grasped it in her fingers and slowly raised her hand, slipping it into her towel that lay on the chair just above her head.

He had told her that day that her mother would try to reach an agreement with them if she could see her.

She thought with disgust and shame that her mother and Daemon would have to sacrifice what was rightfully theirs because she had been stupid and naive, because she had disobeyed them, because she had shown thoughtlessness.

She decided that she would make it right.

That she would do something that would destroy Otto's entire plan and allow Daemon to keep what he wanted.

She thought that perhaps her step-father would understand that she had done this for him.

That this was her apology.

"I'd like to take a bath."

True to her assumption, her uncle was careful and removed the key from the bathroom lock, informing her that she had ten minutes, however, to her relief, he did not check her towel.

When he closed the door she quickly turned the water on, not wanting him to get suspicious, and slid the blade out of the cloth, turning it in her fingers.

This was her escape route.

Her final word.

She stepped into the tub, sinking into the pleasantly warm, crystal clear water and leaned her back against the backrest, breathing loudly, feeling fear, uncertainty and doubt.

She didn't want this, but there was no other choice.

Even if she went home, she would not escape the prison that was her heart.

She was unable to stop loving him.

This thought made her sink the blade into the skin of her wrist.

She hissed, feeling with tears in her eyes how unpleasant, rough and stinging this feeling was, uncomfortable, exactly as her feelings towards her uncle.

She smiled under her breath thinking that he would be the one to find her.

She wondered if she would break his heart in this way, just as he had broken hers.

When she did the same with her other wrist she dropped the blade on the tiles and leaned her head back, lying in peaceful silence, hearing only the hum of water around her.

She closed her eyes, imagining that she was by the sea again, with him, listening as he told her about how old and valuable the coin they had found was.

Tears ran down her cheeks at the thought that in a moment she would join that boy.

The man standing outside the door had killed him long ago.

And then she fell asleep, and though she heard someone's voice, felt someone touch her, felt someone calling her name, she could not open her eyes, feeling calm and light.

Free.

She hissed, feeling an unpleasant burning sensation in her wrists and twisted on the bed, opening her eyelids with difficulty. She felt the sun shining on her face, the familiar smell of disinfectants all around her, the quiet beeping of the machines controlling her heart rate just above her head.

She looked to the side and saw the figure of Daemon sitting in a chair, looking at her exactly as he had then, when her uncle had brought her home from Heavenly Beach.

She felt her body begin to quiver in shame and fear: even though she tried, she couldn't find the words to express what she was feeling, and although she had never called him that, at that moment something snapped inside her.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Dad – I believed him – I was only supposed to bring him the books, nothing more – I was trying to fix it –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, struggling to catch air between the successive sentences that left her mouth.

Something in her step-father's gaze changed – he swallowed hard and twisted in his seat, clenching his hands into fists.

It seemed to her that some part of him sympathised with her.

"– I know –"

Those words, though short and dispassionate, meant more to her than he could have imagined.

Although he was furious with her, and he had every right to be, he understood why she did what she did and that she believed it would help his cause.

"– you did it for me – didn't you? –" He asked, looking at her wrists.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath, feeling that her cheeks and eyelids were all swollen with tears of sadness, grief and pain.

He lowered his gaze and sighed heavily, turning his head to the side, looking towards the window.

"– don't ever do it again – your mother almost died of despair –" He said, and she nodded again, letting his large hand close over her fingers.

"– you are a naive, stupid child – but mine – you will be under my full control from now on – you will not go anywhere without me, your mother or my bodyguards – do you understand? –" He asked and she nodded, feeling shame.

He was right.

She was a naive, stupid child who someone had to watch over to make sure she didn't mess up again.

Despite her initial horror that everyone would hate her, she was welcomed home with relief and joy: she knew that to some extent this was influenced by what she had done, but at least it made everyone understand that she regretted what had happened.

"– that son of a bitch – I swear I'll kill him with my own hands –" Jace said to her, embracing her tenderly as if she were a teddy bear.

She felt pain and discomfort at the thought that some part of her wanted to ask him not to hurt her uncle.

She wondered how much of this was due to how he was manipulating her and how much was due to how she really felt about him.

She knew that Daemon, Jace and their men had declared war on Otto: every day someone died in a shootout, and she prayed she wouldn't hear his name overhearing the conversations of her father's bodyguards.

"That boy with one eye sold Larys Strong a bullet in the head. His grandfather's partner! They say he just walked into his office and shot him. He must have pissed him off pretty good." He said, and she swallowed hard, feeling her heart stand up in her throat with terror.

She reached into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out the note he'd left her at the hospital and read its contents for the hundredth time.

I will always watch over you.

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought that his confession was literal.

That he had killed him for her.

Do you know who did this?

I can take care of it.

For your comfort.

Those were his words.

I can take care of it for your comfort.

She hid her face in her hands at the thought of him sinking even deeper into darkness for her, thinking that in this way he would atone for what he had done.

Daemon agreed to let her return to the University on the condition that one of his bodyguards would wait in the car the entire time she was in the building, just to make sure she didn't leave or run away.

She agreed to this out of desperation, feeling that she was descending into madness sitting at home, constantly dreaming about him.

About someone bringing them news that he was dead.

Along with the end of the semester, the entry exams for all those who wanted to get into university were also approaching.

She tried not to think about whether he was studying, whether he was going to come and try, recognising that it was just his momentary whim, an attempt to make her believe that he was capable of change.

And then she'd see his silhouette in her memory, bent over a thick tome, read through her textbooks.

She hated herself for sympathising with him.

She hated herself for wanting him to succeed.

Since then neither of them had written or spoken to each other.

Even so, the day she knew the exams were to take place had her walking around in a state of complete shock and panic all day.

"Are you alright? I'm worried about you. You look terrified." Robb said, snapping her out of her reverie.

They had been together for a few months during the past year, as they had become very close on a excavations where they had been the professor's assistants together.

His ironic sense of humour, the glint in his eye and his cheeky smile made her feel a pleasant warmth in her stomach, and when he kissed her one evening she thought there was hope for her.

That she could live a normal life.

She spent her first time with him because she trusted him and knew he was experienced. He was tender and patient with her, excited by her clearly lack of skill in this aspect, by the fact that he could lead her by the hand, show her what desire and fulfilment were.

She was grateful to him for making the loss of her virginity only a little painful for her, and beyond that she felt only pleasure.

Nevertheless, she despaired that the orgasms she experienced with him could not compare to what she felt when she herself sank her hand into her leaking womanhood, imagining that it was her uncle's fingers that was greedily invading her slit.

"– go on – after all, that's what you want – that's why you came to me, isn't it? – for your uncle to take care of you – am I wrong? –"

She had to snuggle her face into the pillow so that her siblings wouldn't hear her moan of delight and relief, while wonderful waves of warmth and pleasure shook her body, causing her to fall into a peaceful, pleasant sleep, still holding her hand between her thighs.

However, it was enough for her to wake up in the morning, and remorse, sadness and disappointment in herself made her unable to breathe or eat.

And then she saw pictures of Robb with the women he had embraced at the club, and while part of her felt pain, part of her also felt relief.

When she broke up with him, he tried to explain to her that nothing had happened, that he had forgotten himself under the influence of alcohol but that he had never, never cheated on her because he had not kissed or had sex with any of them.

She then thought sadly that she could tell him exactly the same thing, however she felt that they were both cheating on each other in some way, just not physically.

She decided that it would be better if they remained friends, and although it was hard for him to bear at first, he seemed to eventually get used to the thought.

Neither of them resented each other.

She lowered her gaze at the thought, embarrassed, not knowing what to answer him, not being able to confess the truth after all.

She was, however, tired of lying.

"My friend was supposed to take his entry exams today. But I don't know if he will. He hurt me and I'm afraid to go there." She said, looking across the corridor to the part in the building where the big auditorium was located.

"Do you want me to go with you?" He suggested, and for some unknown reason she felt grateful to him for the offer.

She nodded, and he smiled at her in a way that she remembered vividly from the moments when she thought they were happy.

When they got there, she saw that the door to the room was open, probably because of how stuffy it was in there.

"Can you see him?" Robb whispered as she leaned out, she could, however, only see the first three rows of pews and did not recognise him among any of the people.

"No. But I can't see much." She muttered.

"Well, tough. We'll wait." He sighed, leaning back against the windowsill with his arms folded.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He asked after a moment with hesitation in his voice.

"No." She mumbled, looking at her fingers in shame. Robb raised his eyebrows, stroking his chin as if something in her words comforted him.

"Oh. I see." He said, and she swallowed hard, looking away, feeling that even though she had told the truth she felt like she had lied.

The people who had finished writing the exam started to leave one by one, making her lose faith with each passing minute that he had done it at all, thinking in the back of her mind that he was sitting with his grandfather and brother right now for sure, discussing how to destroy her step-father.

He didn't have time to play University now, she thought sadly, and froze when she saw him in the doorway.

His healthy eye grew wide at the sight of her as if he had seen a ghost and he stopped in mid-motion, pale, glancing at her, then at Robb.

"Is that him?" He asked curiously, extending his hand to him. "Robb, it's a pleasure. I hope you become a student soon too."

She swallowed hard seeing that his uncle's face expressed tension and coldness, a sign that something bad was about to happen.

His gaze full of impatience fell on her again while Robb's hand continued to hang in the air, showing her that if she didn't intervene, he would speak up and she wouldn't like that.

"Thank you, Robb. Will you leave us alone?" She asked in a trembling voice, wanting him to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

Robb blinked, bewildered, looking at her then at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Didn't you hear what she said?" Her uncle snarled in his direction in a way she knew was a warning.

He knew who he was, she realised suddenly with horror.

Then, when Helaena caught him looking at her Instagram account, it wasn't the first time he'd done it.

He followed her social media.

That's why he knew where he should come even though she hadn't given him her university address.

"I'm not talking to you, mate." Said Robb in a tone that betrayed that he had lost patience and she had to stand between them to keep her uncle from pushing against him, his jaw clenched in rage.

"That's enough." She said in a shaky voice.

"Aemond is having a hard time. Forgive him. Sometimes he doesn't know how to behave. He won't hurt me. Am I wrong?" She asked softly with a note of mockery in her voice, from which he swallowed loudly and looked away, embarrassed, trying to control himself.

Robb hesitated, but nodded finally and left them alone, glancing at them intently over his shoulder.

"It was a mistake." She said, shaking her head, herself wanting to leave, recognising that she didn't know why she was doing it, why she cared.

"– no – no, wait –" He muttered, grabbing her arm, careful, however, not to cause her pain. His hand wrapped around her waist in a way from which she swallowed hard, his forehead pressed against her temple.

"– are you two together again? –" He asked in a trembling voice, and she involuntarily burst out laughing, ignoring the stares of the other students who were just passing them by.

"– do you want to tell me how you know who I'm dating and when? –" She hissed, looking at him with fury, his gaze hot and pleading, full of feelings she didn't want to see.

"– do you love him? –"

She shook her head, trying to push him away, not wanting to hear it, having no intention of explaining herself to him.

"– I hope you'll pass – let me go – let me go, I said –" She growled, trying to pull away from him, but he closed his hands on her back, hugging his nose to her cheek like a small child seeking refuge, his eyes closed as he spoke his next words.

"– I killed him for you –" He whispered.

She swallowed hard, feeling a powerful, cold shiver run down her spine, her heart starting to pound like mad in her chest making her struggle to take another breath.

He had killed for her.

He had killed a man.

God, was it possible to wash away such a sin?

To carry such a burden.

She shook her head, her brow arching in pain at the thought that she didn't want to hear it.

"– I killed him because he threatened you – because he wanted to hurt you – I want you to be safe –" He gasped tenderly, enclosing her jaw in his hands, placing again and again warm, soft kisses on her cheek as if she were something he longed to cherish, that he adored, that he loved.

A part of her wanted to ask him if he planned to kill himself too, but those cruel words didn't leave her mouth.

When he hugged her she simply closed her eyes and allowed herself to calm down in the tender embrace of his arms, feeling his soft, full lips on her cheek, neck and shoulders, his hands combing through her hair tender, close, familiar, beloved.

"– I'm not pregnant –" She whispered and felt him freeze for a moment. He swallowed hard, placing a lingering, warm kiss on her temple.

"– I know – the doctor told me – we just have to try again –" He said softly, stroking her back comfortingly as if he were a husband who had just assured his wife that they would have a child in the future.

How absurd his words were simultaneously horrified, embarrassed and endeared her.

"– do you hear yourself? – after what you did to me? – after how –" She mumbled out, bursting into sobs, clasping her hands on his back, for some reason seeking help in his embrace.

He was the only person who understood what she was going through.

"– shhh – I'm here, baby –" He hushed her, stroking her hair and her back, his face sinking into her temple, his warm breath enveloping her neck.

She shuddered when she heard her phone ring – they moved away from each other, and when she pulled it out of her backpack it turned out to be Daemon's bodyguard.

"Your class is over, where are you? Is something wrong?"

"– n-no – no, I'm on my way, I was talking to the professor – I'm sorry –" She mumbled out, scared that the man would start looking for her.

"– it's okay – I'll wait where I always do –" He said and hung up while she breathed a sigh of relief.

"– wait a few minutes before I go so they don't see you –" She said indifferently, tucking the phone into her backpack. She felt him wanting to embrace her again, but she pushed him away, shaking her head and avoided him, unable to look at his face.

We just have to try again.

She burst out crying at the thought that some sick part of her wanted this.

"– you said he's not your boyfriend –" She heard Robb's voice behind her, standing at the entrance to the courtyard, looking at her with pain and disbelief.

She swallowed hard at the thought that he was watching them from a distance.

"– I –"

"– I thought we are friends, that we are honest with each other –" He said quickly, combing his hair with his hand in a gesture of impatience, his words making a cold, unpleasant shiver of shame shudder through her body.

He had caught her in the act, and she was like a small, weeping child who was afraid of the consequences.

"– he is not my boyfriend –"

"– are you serious? – you said he hurt you, and you almost let him fuck you in the middle of the corridor – where is your self-respect? –" He hissed and after a moment fell silent, seeing the look in her eyes, the expression on her face, hearing his own words, knowing that his last sentence was a step too far.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry I said that – I didn't –" He muttered, running his hand over his mouth.

He wanted to touch her shoulder, but she moved away from him, shaking her head, not caring that the others were looking at them from the side.

"– is there anything else you want to say? –" She asked, having the feeling that something inside her had broken once and for all, shattered into pieces like a glass vase.

Robb opened his mouth, his cheeks turning scarlet with horror and shame.

She turned tensely, heading for the exit, out of the corner of her eye noticing her uncle's face staring back at her, pale and shocked.

He heard it.

She shook her head letting him know not to follow her and ran towards the car park, thinking about how she wanted to sink to the ground and die.

As she closed the car door behind her, whooping with tears in panic, the man leaned over to look at her face, horrified.

"Are you all right?" He muttered.

"– I didn't pass the fucking exam – can we go now? –" She said with such anger and fury that the bodyguard merely nodded and started the engine, backing the car out onto the road.

She covered her face with her hands, choking and panting, trying to calm down, thinking she deserved it.

Why had she gone there?

Why did she have to see if he had come?

What did it matter?

We just had to try again.

Jesus fucking Christ.

They were both completely mad.

Maybe they had inherited it in their genes, she thought regretfully.

It wasn't until she was home at dinner, feeling Daemon's anxious gaze on her, that she thought uneasily that she had escaped the drowning ship, but had left her uncle and ex-boyfriend far too close. She felt her knee begin to pop up in a nervous reflex under the table at the thought that he might have done something to him.

Out of revenge, out of jealousy, out of whimsy.

I killed him for you.

She thought she would write to him to make sure he was okay.

But he didn't write back.

Unable to stand it, she put a second, new card in her phone, one of the hundreds her brother kept in his drawer to avoid bugging him, and called her uncle, demanding an explanation.

"What did you do to him?" She asked horrified, walking around her room as if in a trance.

"I see you have a new phone number and I have no idea what you're asking."

"Robb, Aemond. He's not writing me back."

She heard him hum on the other end, as if he was pleased with her words and the fact that whatever he had done had forced her to contact him.

"We only talked. His handsome face with brown eyes is unharmed." He said calmly, making her breathe a sigh of relief, still feeling the tension though.

"What were you two talking about?"

"It was our men's business."

"AEMOND."

"That I won't let anyone treat you like that. He doesn't know shit and meddles in matters that aren't his." He said coldly. "I gave him a warning."

For a moment there was a tension-filled silence between them, from which her heart pounded like mad.

She thought it was all some kind of pure madness, that it wasn't really happening.

"– did you threaten him? –"

She heard his loud sigh on the other side and a bark.

Vhagar.

"– I told him to treat you with respect and not to talk to other people about us if he didn't want unpleasantness – no violence, pure persuasion –"

"– manipulation – as in my case –"

"– that is not true –" He protested angrily.

"– LIAR –" She hissed and hung up, throwing her phone on the bed in a gesture full of rage.

She fell back on the bedding, sighing loudly and groaned when she saw that her display had lit up and he had sent her a new message.

She unlocked her phone reluctantly, thinking she had angered him with her words, but saw with surprise that he had sent her a picture of Vhagar.

She felt regret and a sting in her heart at the thought that involuntarily it made her smile.

What he was doing to her was so wrong, so very wrong.

So why did she feel warmth in her heart?

After a while, her phone vibrated again.

She didn't know why she laughed warmly only to burst out crying again a moment later, not understanding why he was the only one who could make her smile, the only one who could make her feel that wonderful warmth in her lower abdomen, the only one who could calm her down.

Why he was the only one she loved.

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ripdragonbeans · 3 months

Text

You Win II // modern!Aemond x reader

Summary: You and Aemond have fallen in love, steady in a relationship built of trust and love. All that is challenged when Aemond takes a class led by Professor Rivers.

TW: indefinitely, manipulation, p in v, afab reader, violence, Aemond is an idiot

Part I • Epilogue

Empty. Completely empty.

Numb. You felt nothing

Cold. There was no warmth in your life anymore.

That's all you were when you left your - his - apartment. The towel that staunched the bleeding was drying up, becoming stiff. It's been hours since you left but you didn't have the energy to even pull it off your knuckle. That, and you wouldn't know what to do if it started bleeding again. Taking the train, you went to the one person who you knew would welcome you without a doubt.

Jace Velaryon.

You lied when you said you were going home. You didn't have a home to go to anymore because he was your home.

When you arrived at his apartment, you immediately started pounding on the door. Tears were streaming down your face again, new tears. They were hot against your skin and flowed freely.

Jace answered the door. “I don’t know who you are but I don’t need any - oh shit!”

You fell into Jace as soon as he opened the door and sobbed openly into his arms.

“Hey, what happened? Why isn’t Aemond with you?”

At the mention of his name you sobbed even harder. You balled your fists into Jace’s shirt, not wanting to let him go.

“Fuck, okay. Let’s get you inside. I’ll call Hel.”

As Jace led you into the apartment you tried to calm yourself but it was difficult, nearly impossible. All of the different visions Alys had planted in your head kept playing on one after the other. The more you looked into the past the more you could see the warning signs that something was up. The way he touched you, looked at you, the small things. How lately he would recoil from your touch, or look guilty when he said he loved you. It all added up and you hated that you couldn’t see it. Instead, you got hurt. You could’ve protected yourself, your heart, but instead you gave it to someone else.

You sat on the couch clutching your things. Well, all that you could carry out of his apartment. Fog was clouding your vision and your chest was heavy. All you wanted to do was fall in a deep sleep and never wake up again. You curled up around a pillow and buried your head in it. Hugging the pillow helped a bit but it wasn’t enough.

“Hel, something happened to her,” you heard Jace call Helaena from the kitchen. “She came to my apartment sobbing her eyes out and when I mentioned Aemond she cried even harder. I think… I think they broke up, Hel.” He paused so Helaena could respond. “No, I don’t know what happened but whatever it was was bad. Her hand is wrapped in a towel and there’s dried blood on it. Fuck, just come over, please? Okay, see you soon.”

Jace came out of the kitchen and sat next to you on the couch. “Hey, Hel is on her way. Want to tell me what’s going on or -”

You aggressively shook your head as you shut your eyes to keep even more tears from flowing out.

“Okay, we can wait for Hel.”

Jace wrapped you in a hug and you melted into him. You inhaled his cologne, a familiar smell, and it calmed you, even just a tiny bit. After a moment you pulled away from him.

“I punched a mirror,” you rasped. “I was feeling too much and I hated what I saw so I just. I -” you broke down in sobs again.

“As long as you’re safe and it wasn’t anyone else who physically hurt you, it’s okay.”

You nodded and let yourself sink into the couch. For a few minutes it was just you and Jace in a sad silence. He wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how to. You wanted to tell him everything that happened but you wanted to wait for Helaena so you wouldn’t have to relive it twice out loud. You’ve already re-lived it many times over in your head. Everything was so clear, so crisp and clear. In your mind’s eye Alys was giving you that evil smirk while her hand was on Aemond’s shoulder. The image wouldn’t leave your mind. She touched him like she owned him.

“No one physically hurt me but fuck, my heart hurts so much.” You leaned your head on Jace’s shoulder.

Jace nodded. You fell into a silence, a sad silence. The door unlocked.

“Hey, I'm here.” Helaena looked at you and your tear stained face. “Holy shit, what's happened to you?” She was quick to move to you and pull you into a hug.

With Helaena hugging you came a new wave of tears. While she was his sister, you were glad that she didn't remind you of him. You held on tight to her and tried to calm down your breathing.

“There we go, easy breaths,” she encouraged you.

When you finally caught your breath you glanced at both of your friends before putting your head down. “He cheated on me.”

Their eyes were wide with disbelief.

“No way,” Helaena whispered.

“I'm gonna fucking kill him,” Jace growled.

You let out a broken laugh. “Please don't kill him, Jace.”

“No, I'm serious. What was he thinking?”

“It was Professor Rivers.”

“Of course it was her.” Helaena’s eyes were hard. “I've heard so many things about her. I didn't think she'd go after Aemond.”

You scoffed. “Well she did and she was successful.” You lowered your head. “She said that he loved her,” your voice cracked on the last word.

“I don't believe that at all.”

“You should have seen him, Hel. He was fucking her! He looked so guilty that he was caught.”

“He fucked her?!”

“Yes!” You started sobbing again. “It was some kind of cruel plan the professor came up with. She requested me in her office while he was with her so I could see them.”

Jace and Helaena were silent.

“Okay, now that's messed up,” said Jace.

“I bet she gets off on breaking up couples,” Helaena said matter-of-factly.

Jace looked at Helaena. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Haven't you heard the rumors? She has a history of breaking up couples.”

“That's demented.”

As Jace and Helaena talked about how cruel Alys was to her students outside their academic life, all you could think about was him. You still refused to say his name out loud. Saying his name would be admitting that he was real. For once, you wished your relationship was fake, a figment of your imagination. If you could convince yourself it never happened then you never got hurt.

A delusional smile crossed your face. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine. What are we even talking about? I don't know any Professor Rivers,” you laughed.

Helaena and Jace shared a concerned look.

“I've never heard of her.”

“Sweetie, she's a professor at your university. You know this very well,” Helaena said gently. “Are you okay?”

You started laughing maniacally. “Of course I'm okay! Why wouldn't I be? And again, I don’t know any Professor Rivers. That name means nothing to me. Nothing.” You reached for Jace’s hand and squeezed it as tight as you could.

“Damn, you have a strong grip. Can you loosen up or let me go?” Jace tried to wiggle his hand out of yours.

“I have never given my heart to anyone. I have never been hurt. I am completely fine. My heart is whole and safe. I have never fallen in love. No one has shattered me. Nothing bad ever happened, I’m just having a bad dream or something. But I’m fine. Fine and happy. I'm happy.”

“Oh, my dear,” Helaena tugged your hand off of Jace’s and took it in hers instead. “You're not okay and that's okay. But it happened, you can't pretend it didn't happen. It's not healthy.”

Your smile dissipated as you cocked your head to the side. “Nothing happened, Helaena. I am fine. I've never dated anyone.” You shook your head. “Please, I don't want it to be real,” you whispered. Trembling, you pulled your hands away from Helaena and wrapped them around yourself. Rocking back and forth you began to mumble, “It didn't happen. I'm okay. It didn't happen.” Your eyes became unfocused until everything around you was blurry. You didn't even try to correct it.

“Let's go to the spare room. You can stay here as long as you need,” Jace said as he gathered your things.

“Come on, sweetie. Let's get you up,” Helaena tried to get you to stand but you sat rooted on the spot.

Tucking your chin in and wrapping your arms around you even tighter, you closed your eyes and refused to open them. “I'm fine right here.”

“Okay, you can stay here but Jace is going to take your things to the spare room.”

Jace left with your belongings and brought them to the bedroom, the place you'll be living in for the next unforeseeable days. Helaena stayed next to you, refusing for you to be left alone.

“Do you want me to stay the night? I don't want you to be alone.”

With eyes still shut you nodded your head. You agreed with her; you should not be left alone.

“Your room is set up.” Jace entered the living room. “Do you want to sleep there now or?”

“I think she's gonna sleep out here on the couch tonight, Jace.” Helaena turned to you. “Can you get up or do you want to stay here?”

“I can't move. My body won't let me,” you whispered.

“Yeah, she’ll sleep out here tonight, Jace. I'll sleep on the floor.”

“I have an air mattress, Hel. You're not gonna sleep on the floor.” Jace turned and left the room once again to get the air mattress and some extra pillows and a blanket.

“Lay down, sweetie. Close your eyes. You've had a rough day.”

Helaena’s voice calmed you. You did as she said and slowly unwound yourself and laid down on the couch. “Hel, I still love him. And I hate him for it.”

It was the last thing you said before falling into the sweet darkness of sleep.

Aemond was still sitting on the floor of your - his - bedroom. Clothes were strewn across the floor. His eye was red from crying; he hasn't stopped since you left. He went to the bathroom to clean up but stopped at the door. When he saw the shattered glass on the ground he whimpered. You did this. You did it because he caused you to feel so much pain that you needed to break something.

Fresh tears began pouring out. His heart was continually breaking. He tried to clean up the mess the best he could but it was hard to see with his one good eye blurry from the crying. Aemond had just picked up all the glass when his phone started ringing.

Without looking at who it was, he answered it, hoping it would be you.

“Princess, please, are you -”

“Princess? Well, that's a new name for me, baby,” the female voice said.

Anger rose inside of him. “How did you get my number, Professor Rivers?”

“‘Professor Rivers?’ Now, now, you know me better than that. In fact you know me extremely well.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“Oh, no need to know.” He could hear her smile. “I just called to make sure you're okay. I know you're hurting but you know my arms are always open for you.”

“I'm done with you,” Aemond ground out.

“You say that but you know you'll come back to me. They always do.”

“You said you loved me.”

“Yes, and it's true. I love all my students.”

“You said I was the only one.”

“Yes, now that was a lie. Would you have chosen to be with me if you had known you were not the first?”

“I didn't choose you,” he spat out.

“That's not what I remember. If memory serves me correctly, I asked if you were sure you wanted this and you said yes.”

“You were straddling my lap with my cock in your hand!” Aemond’s heartbeat was racing, not at the memory, but at the anger towards this woman.

“And you still could’ve said no. But you didn't. Instead you said yes and the rest is history. And what a damn good history it was.”

“Delete this number and never come near me again.”

“I know you wish that could happen but you know better. I'll delete this number but I'll see you in class on Monday.” With a click the phone call ended.

Aemond let out a guttural scream and punched the already broken mirror. Once. Twice. Three times. Just like you. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at his bloody knuckle. It was another thing that reminded him of you. Opening and closing his hand, he let the blood run down. He stared at it, thinking of you and hoping you were okay.

He turned on the water and ran his hand under it then wrapped it up in some gauze. He wasn't rushing so he had time to actually look for some. Everything has slowed down for him.

After he cleaned up the rest of the glass he went to the couch in the living room. He sat there for a while but soon remembered the many times the two of you made love on it. Immediately getting up he paced, thinking of a place where he wouldn't be reminded of his sins.

“I'm not gonna hear the end of this,” he mumbled to himself. Not packing anything, he left the apartment and called an Uber for his brother, Aegon's, place.

When he got to Aegon’s front door he couldn't even bring himself to knock on the door. Instead he texted his brother to come and open the door.

“And what can I do for my little brother?” Aegon wore a grin.

Aemond took a deep breath. “I cheated on her, Aegon. I fucked up and I can't stand to be in our apartment.”

Aegon’s face dropped. “Shit, I wasn't expecting that. Get in here and tell me how you messed everything up.”

Aemond followed Aegon into the apartment and plopped himself on the couch. Without giving him a second glance, Aegon went to the fridge and grabbed two beers.

“Drink it,” he said as he handed him one. “If you're going to relive your mistakes you should have something to ease the pain.”

In one smooth motion, Aemond took it from Aegon, opened it, and began chugging it. He stopped halfway through the bottle.

“My professor seduced me,” he started off. “And I fucking fell for her. She has a history of getting with students and I thought I could never be one of them but I am, Aegon. I slept with my fucking professor and ruined the only true relationship I've ever had.”

Aegon ran a hand down his face. “Dude, that's bad. Like bad bad.”

“It was more than once, too,” Aemond admitted.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“I basically had a relationship with her. She'd tell me she loved me and I thought it was real even though I already had someone who loved me unconditionally. Fuck, she gave me her heart and I stomped on it the second I started talking to Professor Rivers.” Aemond put his face in his hands.

Aegon nodded his head. “Oh, her.”

“Do you know her?”

“Even I knew she was bad news. There's a reason other than my grades as to why I didn't take her class. She's hot though, I'll give you that.”

“That doesn't help, Aegon.”

Aegon shrugged. “Just saying,” he took a sip of his beer. “What are you gonna do to get her back?”

Aemond blinked. “‘Get her back?’ I don't deserve her!”

“Listen,” Aegon leaned forward. “I've seen you two together and I have never seen you so happy before. I don't know her well but it looked like she had eyes only for you. You gotta go back and get her. Or at least help her.”

“How can I help her when all I've done is cause her pain?” Aemond’s hands began to shake.

“Beg. Get on your knees. Anything to make her smile.”

“I think me dying would make her smile,” Aemond grumbled.

“There we go, that's it!” Aegon went over and clapped Aemond on the back. “While you try to regain your honor, I'm going to ruin that Professor Alys and her career.”

“No! Please don't do that!”

Aegon narrowed his eyes. “Don't tell me you actually have feelings for her.”

“She called me earlier. I don't know how but she got my number. She sounded so sure that I'd go back to her. But I don't! I mean, fuck, you can't. She'll know it was me somehow.”

“I’ll cover your ass, don't worry.” Aegon finished his beer. “Now, you can stay as long as you need to but I don't want you wallowing in self pity. It's annoying when you do that.”

“Thank you, brother.” Aemond went to clasp his arm but Aegon pulled him in for a hug.

“Go get her back.”

When you woke up the next day it took you a while to remember where you were. As you looked around the room, you saw Helaena on an air mattress. That was when it all came rushing back.

Aemond and Alys.

Punching the mirror.

Slapping Aemond.

Running away.

You hurriedly got up when you felt whatever was left in your stomach come up to the surface. Careful not to trip over Helaena, you made a beeline for the bathroom and emptied out your guts. It was the dry heaving that had you crying again. Between the retching and the memories, it all became too much again.

“Sweetie?” Came a sleepy voice. “Are you okay?”

You gagged on nothing in response.

“I'm coming in, hold up.”

The bathroom door creaked open and Helaena entered, hair messy from sleeping.

“Oh, my dear, you look horrible.”

You gave a dry laugh. “Thanks, Hel.” You gagged into the bowl again.

Helaena knelt by you and rubbed your back in soothing circles. “We’ll take it day by day. You can get through this, you're one of the strongest people I know.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, I feel so strong right now.” You hurled out nothing into the toilet bowl again. Your chest was beginning to hurt from all the heaving and still your heart was aching, too. “I don't know when this will stop,” you admitted. Sitting back on your haunches, you looked up at Helaena. “Do I forgive him? Do I ignore him? What do I do if he wants to be back in my life?”

“Then you'll have a decision to make. Open your heart once again to the guy who shattered and trust that he won't do it again, or close yourself off from him forever.”

Your chest tightened at the prospect. On one hand you never wanted to see him again, it'd be too painful. But on the other hand, life without him seemed impossible, lifeless. Yet he broke you and made you feel the way you feel now and that is unforgivable.

When you moved to get up Helaena offered her hand. Once you took it you gave her a thankful squeeze. You linked arms with her and walked to the kitchen where Jace was making breakfast.

“Waffle morning!” He called out. Jace sent you a bright smile.

You cracked the first genuine smile you've had since the break up. Jace always knew how to raise your spirit.

“I made your favorite waffles. There’s whipped cream and strawberries in the fridge if you want any.”

You noticed he wasn’t mentioning yesterday. That was fine for you; you needed a break. Over breakfast you laughed with your friends and briefly forgot about the last twenty four hours. It wasn’t until you brought up slapping him that you brought the topic to the day before.

“I will admit that I did slap him and it felt great. Do I regret it? I do. I’ve never wanted to hurt him but I didn’t know what to do. He kept trying to get closer to me and I didn’t want him near me.”

Helaena and Jace looked at you, stunned.

“You slapped him?” Helaena wanted clarification.

“I wasn’t thinking.” You shrugged.

“That’s better than me,” Jace chuckled. “Next time I see him I’m gonna deck the shit out of him.”

“He deserved that,” Helaena agreed.

“Please don't deck him, Jace. As upset as I am, I still don't want him hurt.”

“You don't want him to get hurt? Look at you! Aemond hurt you so much, punching him is the nicest thing I could do to him,” Jace said.

You flinched at the mention of his name. “Please don't say his name right now.”

“You can't even say his name!” Jace was getting aggravated. “I know you don't like this, but he hurt you and that's not okay. You're one of my best friends and I refuse to stand by and do nothing.”

“And I appreciate that so much, I really do,” you gave Jace a small smile. “But I still care about him, as stupid as that sounds.”

“It's not stupid, sweetie,” Helaena put a hand on your arm. “You love him - don't try to deny it.”

Looking down at your half eaten waffle you contemplated the complexity of your feelings. You still loved him, you knew that. But it hurt so much. You didn't want to love him, he didn't deserve your love. Still, your heart reached out to him, he hurt you, shattered you, but it also being away from him made your heart ache as well.

“I do. I still love him. I feel empty without him and I wish it would stop. I don't want to feel anything anymore.”

“Feeling this is okay, it means you're human.”

“Ugh,” you stuffed a bit of waffle in your mouth. “I don't want to be a human then.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jace elbowed you in the side.

“I can't help it,” you elbowed him back.

“See, you're already doing better,” Helaena said.

You took a breath. “Yeah, I am.” A weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“It will still hit you every now and then,” Helaean warned you.

“I know. But I have you guys to help me,” you clasped a hand from both of them. “And I'm forever grateful.” You sighed. “Ugh, I don’t want to go to class on Monday.”

“I mean,” Jace started, “you don’t have to.”

“You can always take a mental day and it seems like a good time to take one,” Helaena said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. And -” You were cut off by the doorbell. “Did you guys tell anyone else to be here?”

“No, the only person I called was Hel,” Jace said. “I’ll go check on the door.”

The doorbell rang again.

A familiar sinking feeling came over you. “Gods, what if it’s him?”

Jace’s face hardened. “Then I’m going to punch him like I said I would.”

You turned to Helaena, face filled with panic. “I don’t want to see him again, not now. Please, I can’t do this!” Tears began to fill your eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Helaena took your hand. “We’ll go back to the spare room. Jace will handle this.”

The doorbell rang a third time.

“Gods, he’s impatient,” Jace muttered.

“Go get the door before he starts knocking and trying to break it down,” Helaena ordered.

With your hand in her, Helaena guided you back to the spare room while Jace went to answer the door. Your heartbeat quickened as you heard him open it.

A familiar voice began to speak. “Please, I’m here for -”

You heard the sound of skin hitting skin.

“That’s for hurting my best friend,” you heard Jace say.

A deep sigh. “I deserved that.”

Silence. You imagined the two guys staring at each other. Well, Jace staring hard at him and the other one with his head down in shame.

“I just need to see her, make sure she’s okay.”

“Physically, she’s fine. Emotionally? I’ve never seen her so broken.”

“Fuck,” you almost didn’t hear him. “Can I at least talk to Hel? I saw her car.”

A pause. “Fine.”

Jace’s footsteps came closer and closer to the door. “Hel, he wants to talk to you. Think you can handle it?”

“Of course I can handle my little brother,” Helaena scoffed. “You stay right here.” She gave you one last hug before exiting the room.

“Hel, I really fucked up and -”

SLAP

You couldn’t help the small smile that graced your face.

“How dare you?” Helaena exclaimed. “How dare you hurt her then show up? You should be absolutely ashamed of yourself. You’re weak, Aemond.”

You sucked in a breath at the mention of his name.

“I know I am.” You heard him sniffle. “I destroyed our relationship and now I’m asking for her forgiveness. I know she may never want to see me again, but I at least want to know that she’s healing.”

“Aemond, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. She’s not okay at all!” Helaena sighed. “I think you need to leave. She needs space and time before she can see you. Hell, she can’t even say your name. Whatever you did hurt her bad.”

“She - she won’t even say my name?”

“No. That’s how bad this is. So I suggest you go home.”

“...Can I at least see her?”

“No, Aemond. Now, go home.”

You heard the door beginning to close. “WAIT! I mean - he can see me.”

Helaena went to you and gripped your hand. “Sweetie, are you sure?”

“If he tries anything I’ll punch him again,” Jace said.

“It’s fine, guys. Really. I’ll need to face him at some point,” you shrugged. Wiping your eyes, you tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable, that you haven’t been a complete wreck. You walked to the door to face him. To face Aemond.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you looked at Aemond but it certainly wasn’t this. His hair was messy, eye was puffy and red, there was a mark where Jace punched him and Helaena slapped him. His eye was devoid of any happiness. Good.

“Princess, I -” he started.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” you stopped him. “I’m not your princess, never was apparently.”

Something in Aemond’s face broke. “No, no, you know that’s not true.”

“Stop. Please,” you took a deep breath. “You broke me, Aemond,” your voice shook on his name. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you’ve done. I gave you everything I had and you dropped it all for a professor. I can’t go through that again. Please don’t make me.” Tears slipped out. “Please, just go home.”

Aemond took in a shaky breath. “I’ll go. But know that I will do everything I can to prove to you that you are my one and only love.”

Jace coughed next to you. “Sure.”

Helaena went to the door. “It’s time for you to go, Aemond.”

Aemond nodded his head and turned around. When he got to his car you collapsed into Jace’s arms, full of fresh tears.

“He came back for me,” you choked out. “I don’t know if I want him.”

“You don’t need to take him back if you don’t want to,” Jace said as he held you tight.

“He’s right. Aemond is not entitled to you.” Helaena came back from the doorway. She made sure that Aemond actually left.

“Can I go back to sleep?” you mumbled against Jace.

“Of course, let’s get you in an actual bed this time, though.” Helaena gently peeled you off of Jace and led you to the spare room.

You fell on the bed with a plop and immediately you welcomed the soothing darkness of sleep.

Aemond stepped back into the apartment feeling broken. All he had to do was gather some of his things to take to Aegon’s house. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simply walking into the apartment, however, had his memories reeling.

“Aemond!” you called from the doorway. “I’m home!”

Aemond made sure you were turned around before picking you up from behind and twirling you. “How were classes, princess?” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Classes were meh. So nothing new, just normal.” You shrugged. “What about you?”

Aemond felt himself stiffen very briefly. She couldn’t know. He couldn’t tell her. It would only break her. No, he would have to break off everything with Alys. “Classes are fine, nothing new, just like yours.”

“And Professor Rivers?” you asked him. You knew she was a flirt and didn’t want her anywhere near Aemond.

“She’s nowhere near me.” A lie. “I sit in the back of the class.” Another lie.

“Hmmm okay.” There was something unsettling about his answer but you let it slide.

“I love you and only you, okay Princess? Never forget that.” He captured your lips in a kiss.

------

“Oh, fuck, harder, Aemond!” Alys was bent over her desk with her skirt hiked up.

Aemond pounded into her. He was torn in his mind. His body craved Alys but his heart and mind knew this would break his Princess if she ever found out.

“More, more!”

His fingers dug into Alys’ skin as he picked up the pace. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, he was near his peak.

“FUCK, AEMOND!” Alys squeezed Aemond’s cock, triggering his own release.

Aemond caught himself before he fell on top of Alys, not out of courtesy, but that he didn’t want to touch her anymore. He pulled out of her and fixed his pants. He didn’t look her in the eye anymore when he was with her. He simply looked at the ground.

“Aw, baby, are you okay?” Alys had fixed her skirt. She trailed a manicured hand up his chest and brought it up to cup his face.

Without thinking, Aemond leaned into her touch.

“Don’t worry, she’ll never find out.” She pulled him down so she could whisper in his ear. “You’ll always have a place with me. You don’t need her.”

At that, Aemond recoiled. “You’re wrong, I do need her.”

“If that’s true, then why are you with me?”

He couldn’t think of a reason.

“Exactly. You want me, and that’s okay.” Alys moved her other hand to cup him through his pants. He was already beginning to harden again. “Tsk, you already want to go again, babe?”

“No,” Aemond ground out. “I don’t.”

Alys ignored him as she kneeled down to the ground. “Oh, but your cock says otherwise.” She slowly unzipped his pants and freed his cock. “Would you like me to taste you?”

Aemond swore he said no but, “Yes.”

Aemond was crying as he was gathering his clothes. It hurt. Everything hurt. When he was in the bathroom all he could think about was you punching the mirror. When he was in the living room all he could think about was all the times you made love on the couch.

He fell to his knees and clutched his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Princess.” He curled up on the ground and held himself while he sobbed. He was broken. He knew he made terrible choices and now he had to live with them.

When he finally got up to leave the apartment, he found one of your favorite sweaters. He choked on another sob as he ran his fingers on it, imagining you and your smile while wearing it. Bringing it up to his nose, he inhaled the scent. Your scent. Putting it back on the hook, he adjusted the bags in his hands, and made his way back to the outside world.

“Why did you go to her?” Aegon groaned. “That was such a stupid move.”

“I had to see her,” Aemond murmured. “I had to make sure she was okay. That she wasn’t took hurt.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

Aemond looked up at his brother. “She’s in so much pain and I caused all of that.”

“Were you expecting anything different?”

“Not really.”

“Exactly. Man, you’re just punishing yourself by seeing her like that. Stop. You want to fix this? Then get off your ass and start fixing it. This means ending everything, and I mean everything, with Professor Rivers.”

Aemond nodded; he had to follow his brother’s advice if he were to get you back.

“Thank you for a constructive class this afternoon. I'll see you all on Wednesday.” Professor Rivers dismissed her students.

Aemond was quick to get up and gather his things but Professor Rivers was quicker.

“Aemond, I'd like to see you in my office, please.”

Something in Aemond's gut began to sink. His hands were soon clammy. He didn't want to do this, didn't want to face her, but he knew he had to. Taking a shaky breath, he followed Professor Rivers to her office.

He was sure she was swaying her hips more than usual, and even wore a smaller skirt. As they arrived at her office she looked around before sliding a hand along his chest and whispering in his ear. “Gods, I've missed you.” One hand moved to cup his crotch while she used her other hand to pulled him down in a kiss. Aemond wanted to lean into her, to kiss her, but he thought of you and pulled back.

“You said you needed to see me, Professor Rivers?” He tried to keep his face neutral.

“Ah, yes. Please, come in.” She opened the door.

As Aemond stepped in, he took a seat in front of her desk, like any other student would do. He heard the click of a lock but refused to turn around.

Alys ran a hand across his back then over his shoulder. She gripped him tight. “Why don't you turn around, baby? Or do you want me in your lap?” She sauntered around him and set herself on his thighs. “Oh, I can feel you. You're trying so hard but you know you could never resist me.” She pulled him in for a kiss.

Aemond let her kiss him. He did his best not to kiss back but he failed. Soon, he was gripping her waist and aggressively kissing her. Alys was right. He could never leave her. She ground herself on his cock, straining against his pants.

“Forget about her,” she said against his lips.

Immediately, reality hit Aemond and he reeled back and pushed her off. “No. It’s you I need to forget.”

Alys looked at him, eyes wide, panting with her hand on her chest. For a second she looked stunned but recovered quickly. “Aemond. She’s gone. You ruined her. It’s because of you that she left, not me.”

“No,” Aemond shook his head. “You tricked me, you used me somehow. Convinced that we could be together.”

“Oh, my dear,” she purred, “you made the choice to come to me. And you will always come to me, or in me. It’s wonderful both ways.” She stalked towards him and once again reached out.

“I love her more than I want to be with you.”

“That’s not what your body says.” Alys made a note of glancing at his crotch.

“I don’t care what my body says. It only wants a fuck, that’s all you’ll ever be to anyone.”

“Who says I want more? That’s all I want, all I ever needed out of you, was a good fuck. And damn, are you fucking good.”

Aemond ignored her. “Gods, you played me and I was an idiot to believe your lies.”

“Lies? Not all of them are lies. It’s not a lie that I love you, well part of you. Your cock is just so good.”

Aemond crossed the room to get away from her but she followed. “Fuck that. I never want to see you again, Professor Rivers.” He pushed her away again.

“Now, now, we don’t have to get into formalities.” She was looking worried. No other student has talked to her like this before, has actually pushed her back.

“We’re done. I’m done with you, with your lies, everything. Hell, I’ll even report you.”

Alys laughed. “Report me? And who will believe you?”

“You don’t know what exactly I’m capable of to get what I want.” There was a vengeful gleam in his eye. He turned to leave. “By the way, I’m transferring out of your class. I never want to see you or hear from you ever again.” And with that, Aemond stalked out of her office.

As soon as Aemond was out of her office, he went straight to the president. “Professor Strong, one of your staff members has been harassing students.”

Professor Larys Strong turned around. “Ah, yes. I think I know who you’re talking about. I’ve heard all the rumors.”

“Then why haven’t you done anything?” Aemond asked.

“Because they’re just that. Rumors. Unless you have proof?”

Aemond blanched. “Check the hallway cameras outside of Professor Rivers’ office. She cornered me there.”

Professor Strong hummed. “Cornered? Are you sure? I’ve heard whispers that you’ve been going to her willingly.”

“She shouldn’t be doing this! She’s taking advantage of her students!”

“Fine.” Professor Strong flourished a hand. “If there is footage of her, coercing you, and you are resisting, then fine. I will look into it.”

Aemond nodded his head, knowing it was the best answer he could get right now, and left for Aegon’s apartment.

“I did it!” Aemond burst into the living room breathing hard. “I ended everything and I reported her.”

“Great!” Aegon popped his head around the corner. “I keyed her car!”

“I - you - what?”

“Yeah, I keyed her car,” Aegon repeated. Aegon walked over to Aemond, completely serious. “I found her car in the campus parking lot and I keyed it. Specifically, I carved ‘fuck you.’”

“I guess I'll have to thank you for that one. Wish I could've been there myself but…” Aemond trailed off.

“You made the right choice, brother.”

About a month had passed and you felt…lighter. It was as though a weight had been taken off of your shoulder. You still felt the heaviness of the break up but it wasn't completely unbearable anymore.

You still hadn't gone back to the apartment; you still stayed with Jace. Sitting up and stretching, you looked out the window to see the sun rising. Staring out the window you thought of all that you had gone through the last month.

Aemond’s tried to contact you but every time your phone rang you let it go to voicemail. You'd be lying if you said you didn't listen to each and every message. It broke your heart to hear him but you had to stand your ground. He betrayed you in the worst way possible, he couldn’t be easily forgiven.

Every now and then you'd go through your social media profiles and look through the pictures of the two of you. Both of you were so happy, so in love, and it showed. But he broke it. It was a lie. Taking a shaky breath, you pushed the thought from your mind. Over the last week or so you've been training yourself not to say it was a lie. He did love you, at least at one point, but then he met Professor Rivers and he apparently fell out of love with you. Wrapping your arms around yourself you cried a bit for the first time in a few days. It was cathartic. There was a knock at the door and Helaena stepped in.

“Hey, sweetie, how are you doing?” She said softly.

A watery smile graced your face. “I'm doing okay, no improvement from the last few days. I've just been thinking.”

“I figured as much.” She sat down on the bed next to you. “You know, I do believe he loves you. He's been trying to get in touch, but I don't blame you for not answering him. I've seen my brother at his worst but whenever I saw you two together he looked the happiest I've ever seen.”

“‘Loves?’ I think you're looking for ‘loved.’ I don't think he loves me anymore.”

“Even with the constant phone calls and texts?”

“He just feels bad he was caught, I'm sure.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sweetie, I know you may not want to hear it, but I think he really might still love you.”

There was a sinking feeling in your gut. You wanted so badly to believe Helaena but letting Aemond in again would mean opening yourself up to more hurt.

“I don't know if I want to risk my heart again, Hel. And how do I know he's not gonna cheat on me again? What if Professor Rivers comes back?”

“You won't have to worry about her,” Jace said as he leaned on the door frame. “Apparently she's being investigated for sexually harassing students. That and it's against university policy to be involved with them, too.”

A smile played on your lips. “Wait, what?”

Jace shrugged. “Apparently someone finally stepped up to tell the president. There was footage of Professor Rivers hitting on a student outside of her office in the hallway.”

“Do you know who reported her?” Helaena was on the edge of her seat.

“Aemond.”

You sucked in a breath. “Aemond reported her?”

“Yeah, and apparently she tried to kiss him in the hallway and moved her hand over his, uh, crotch.”

Anger bubbled within you. As much as it hurt for him to have betrayed you, knowing Professor Rivers still wanted him even after he pushed her away made your blood boil.

“Gods I hate her. I hate what she did to Aemond, I hate what she did to me, I hate what she did to us,” you ground out.

“The investigation isn't complete. While Aemond's footage does show that she made unwanted advances, he still followed her into her office.

“Of course he did. He'll keep going back to her.”

It hurt, knowing he still followed her even after he said no. You had no doubt they still did things in her office.

“But,” Jace interjected, “there are a few others who have stepped up to say something. Apparently the guys Professor Rivers has been involved with include Jason Lannister and Cregan Stark. Just those two alone make a good case against her.”

“Maybe I should talk to him,” you murmured.

“I think you should, sweetie.” Helaena put a hand over yours and squeezed tight.

“...I think I will. It's not a promise we'll get back together but it's something.” You looked at your two best friends. “Thank you for everything, I love you guys so much.” Your eyes began to water and a few tears slipped out but they were thankful tears. Tears that were light.

When Jace and Helaena left your room you picked up your phone to find a new voicemail from Aemond. With shaking hands you brought the phone up to your eye and listened.

“I'm so sorry. I know I can't say it enough. I never loved her, I was thinking with my dick. I miss you. I miss you so much and I will do whatever it takes for you to at least look at me again. Everything I do, everything I see, reminds me of you. If I could turn back time and never enroll in her class I'd do it. I'm not even in it anymore, I dropped out of the class.” A break. “When I saw you that day, when you saw everything, I knew I had fucked up. I knew beforehand that I fucked up yet I kept making those decisions. I will never be able to erase the pain from your heart and I wish I could. Gods, I wish I could. I promise you that you are the love of my life, no one else.”

A fresh wave of tears rolled down your face. It's the same thing he's said over and over again but this time you could feel his desperation. You didn't know how long it would last until he would give up, so you took your chance and called him back. The phone rang once.

“Aemond,” you wanted to be the first one to talk. “I - I think I'm ready to see you.”

“Princess! Gods, you called me back.” You could hear his voice crack.

“Please don't call me that,” you whispered. Being called his princess made your heart ache.

“I'm sorry, I won't do that again.”

You smiled a sad smile. “Let's meet at the apartment, okay? Neutral ground.”

“You want to see me?”

“I think I'm ready now. I'll see you around noon?”

“Yeah, noon works. I'll see you then.”

And with a click of the button the line was dead.

Walking out of the spare room and into the living room, you found Helaena and Jace lounging on the couch.

“I'm going to meet him later today at the apartment,” you announced.

“You are?” Exclaimed Jace. “If he tries anything I swear I'm gonna -”

Helaena interrupted him, “I don't think Aemond is going to try anything. He's too afraid of hurting her even more.”

Jace turned to you. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded. “As sure as I'll ever be. But I can't keep avoiding him forever, either.”

“I'm so proud of you.” Helaena got up and wrapped you in a warm hug. “You can do this, sweetie.”

As you pulled up at the apartment complex, your chest began to tighten and your breaths became short.

“I'm right out here if you need me, remember? If you gotta get out just run and hop in.” Helaena told you.

You took one big breath before nodding your head and then stepping out of the car. There wasn't any sign of Aemond, at least not that you could tell. Walking up the stairs was a challenge; each step felt heavier and heavier. You had to do this, though. Face your fear and tackle him straight on. As you reached the door you noticed it wasn't locked.

“I can do this,” you whispered to yourself. Steeling your nerves, you knocked on the door.

Almost immediately the door opened. It was as if Aemond was sitting by the door waiting for you.

“You came,” he mumbled.

“I did.”

“Come in.” He held the door open for you to enter the threshold.

The apartment was a mess. It was unkempt, clothes were everywhere, you could even see the shattered glass that was never picked up after you punched the mirror. It was as though Aemond had no drive to keep the place tidy anymore. You turned your focus to him and saw that he was in the same state as the apartment; a mess. His hair was frizzy, loose ends were everywhere. His face looked like it had sunken in a bit. He seemed skinnier than before and it's only been a month. There was a dark circle under his eye that looks like it's been there a long time.

For a moment you and Aemond just stared at each other, not believing you were seeing one another.

“I got her fired. She's no longer on campus,” he blurted.

“Good, good.”

“I've missed you.”

You met him with silence. Staring at him, you could see how painful this was for him, not to touch you, not to comfort.

“Why? Why did you do it?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

Aemond shuffled awkwardly. “I don't know.”

“That's not an answer.” A laugh left you. “Tell me why or I'm going to walk out. What did she have that I didn't? Was I not enough for you?” Tears began to flow down your cheeks.

“No, no,” he took a step towards you but you stepped back. “I don't know what I was thinking. She was seductive, I guess. I liked how she was taboo.”

“So I need to be a forbidden fruit to be with you?” You scoffed

“No, I know now that's not what I want.”

“You wanted her? If you wanted her then why didn't you break up with me when it started?”

“Because I didn't want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Aemond, you did so much more damage than what you could've done. You shattered me. I felt my heart break when I saw you fucking her,” you spat out the last few words.

“I know, I know,” he pleaded.

“Do you?”

He took a step back. “You're right, I don't know. I don't know how badly I've hurt you, I don't know the struggle you've been through.” He collapsed to his knees and bowed his head. “And I'm so fucking sorry. I wish I could take everything back.” His body began to shake with sobs.

“Aemond…” you knelt down in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I…I don't know if I could ever forgive you.”

He sobbed harder.

“But I know I still want you in my life. I love you, Aemond, and this past month has been terrible without you by my side.”

“You still love me? Even after all I've done?” He looked into your eyes. His one was puffy and red.

“I don't think I can ever not love you,” you have him a small smile. “I don't know if I could trust you again, either.”

“I understand.”

“But,” you started. “I'm willing to try again.” You placed a hand on his cheek and cupped his face. “It'll be a long time until I'll even be ready to hear you call me Princess again. But we can work on it together.”

Aemond looked at you with awe. “You want to try again?”

“Yes. I do. I can't imagine a world without you. I could barely stand a single month.” You chuckled and moved to intertwine your hand with his.

“I don't deserve you,” he whispered.

“No, you don't. But I miss you and I need you in my life, please, Aemond.”

“I'll be in your life if you want me to. I'll do anything for you.” His hand reached for your arm and he gave a small squeeze.

“It'll be a while until I can give my heart to you again. We'll take it slow.”

“I'll hold on to you tight.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “I'll do better this time.”

“One step at a time.”

#fics by bean #aemond x reader #modern aemond #modern aemond Targaryen #modern hotd #hotd fanfic #modern hotd au #modern au #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you

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nothingbutsweetwords · 2 months

Text

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"…ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ."

Word count: 4,900.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

DISTANCE — 10. Him.

When she left King's Landing, it was as if a black shadow had settled over the entire city, a dark suffocating mist smothering any ray of light despite the sun's bright rays. The Red Keep became cold and hollow. It transformed into a labyrinth of echoes from shared memories, now faded in time, like a persistent lament that could be heard in every corner.

As the days passed, he sought refuge in a rigorous and emotionless routine. Breakfasts became occasions for his mother's presence, and lunches were spent with his sister, though the conversation lacked the vimness it once had.

It was a comfort, albeit a fragmented one. Alicent was always attentive, quick to notice every visible need. However, her affection manifested in an attempt to keep him safe, shielding him from any perceived dangers, but not from the stormy sea of his own emotions. She was aware of his pain, but they never spoke openly about what truly troubled him, fearing that stirring those deep waters might overflow them. Instead, she offered practical advice and an outward calm that barely touched the surface of his emotional distress.

Helaena, with her serene and enigmatic nature, was a peculiar source of comfort. Her visions and whispers, often cryptic, seemed to touch the chords of his deepest thoughts, as if she could see beyond the obvious. In her presence, he found fleeting moments of peace.

The loss of her usual brightness after her marriage to Aegon only accentuated the air of affliction in the castle, revealing a wound in her soul that resonated with his own. It was clear that neither of them had wanted that union, but it was she who had suffered a brutal clash between her ideals and a starkly different reality she faced.

Despite this, she often repeated to him that phrase he had heard for the first time so many years ago, accompanied by a small, wistful smile: "Our wait will be rewarded."

He found it increasingly difficult to hold onto trust in those words. They had become a thin fragile thread, turning his faith into a dull ache and keeping him anchored to a life that felt increasingly distant and unrecognizable.

Her absence left him with an overwhelming void, a sense of loss so profound that it seemed to consume every corner of his being—worse even than the loss of his eye, as if a part of his soul had departed with her, his best friend, his love.

He wrote to her many times, pouring into the pages a torrent of emotions he couldn't express aloud. Each one contained a silent plea for a response, a sign that she still thought of him. But her replies never came, and with each day of silence, his misery grew like a storm that besieged him without respite.

He immersed himself in a series of mental scenarios, imagining every possible reason for the lack of response. Had she heard about his indiscretions the night before she left? Or was she angry because he hadn't allowed her to visit when she needed him the most?

He tried to convince himself that she needed space, that time and distance would heal their wounds, but as the weeks turned into moons, the lack of words became an increasingly heavy burden, leading him to question and finally accept that, perhaps, he deserved the silence.

Sometimes, when fate offered a reprieve and luck favored him, he would see her in his dreams, even if they were tumultuous. In them, she would drift away whenever he tried to reach her, her expression distraught at his sullied touch. The pain of her absence mingled with the fleeting joy of seeing her face again, creating a cut that seemed impossible to heal.

There were moments when he nearly mounted Vhagar, to escape the place where his memories kept him imprisoned, and fly to her. But fear and insecurity held him back. His heart, wounded and fragile, couldn't bear the possibility of meeting a version of her who no longer wished to see him. The thought of facing that rejection was too devastating.

His connection with Vhagar was another of the few true comforts he had left. Flying with her offered a breath from his earthly troubles, a sense of freedom and power that he found nowhere else. However, even this source of relief was restricted. His mother feared the dragon, not just for her size and might, but for what she represented: an unbridled power and independence that she could not control. With maternal concern deeply rooted in her, she limited his opportunities to fly, fearing that something might go wrong.

He and his siblings were now only permitted to fly during royal journeys, which had drastically decreased over the years, along with the king's health.

These limitations felt like heavy chains pressing down on him more and more. His desire to fly, to feel the wind on his face and Vhagar's roar beneath him, was an essential part of his being—a way to feel free and leave his worries behind if only for a brief moment. Every time it was denied to him, the frustration and resentment grew, adding to the tangled web of conflictions that tormented him.

He threw himself into his studies with an almost obsessive intensity, as if each text and lesson could offer a distraction. This rigorous pursuit of knowledge was more than just a means to an end; it was a way to drown out the loneliness that gnawed at his insides. Instead of confronting his pain, he buried it under a façade of determination, finding in discipline another means of desertion.

Physical training became another outlet. Every sword strike, every grueling exercise, was a cathartic release, a way to channel his frustration and sadness into something tangible. He often pushed beyond the limits of prudence, driving his body to exhaustion.

The relentless ache became an inescapable companion, following him even in his busiest moments. Despite his efforts to keep his mind focused on other tasks, the image of her smile and the echo of her laughter lingered like ghosts that refused to be exorcized.

He found himself wondering, with a knot tightening in his chest, if she had forgotten him, if she had found a new life on the island and no longer thought of him. This uncertainty consumed him inside, like a flame that never went out.

The nights were especially cruel, filled with restless tossing and turning as his mind replayed memories and imagined scenarios. The fear of having lost her forever and the guilt for not having done more intertwined, creating an internal struggle that left him exhausted and unable to find sleep.

As the months stretched into years, he adapted to an existence where her absence was a constant. Yet, he never stopped missing her, nor did he stop yearning for the joy her presence had once brought into his life. It was a quiet, persistent longing that he learned to live with.

His kind sister continued to bring him fresh roses every week, a simple yet constant gesture that tried to fill some of the emptiness. Sometimes, in his frustration and pain, he rejected them, leaving them to wither untouched. Other times, in a fit of desperation, he would throw them away, as if by doing so he could uproot the feelings that consumed him. But there were moments when, with an almost reverent stillness, he would lean over them, breathing in their fragrance and letting the soft petals brush against his skin, searching for a trace of the connection they once shared.

On one particularly lonely night, he dusted off the gift she had given him, a tangible symbol of their bond. He wore it with pride, like a talisman against the encroaching sadness. Next to the cherished case, on his nightstand, he kept a piece of the sapphire. Each time he looked at it, he imagined her, and clinged to the memory of her with all the strength he could muster. It was a small comfort, a glimmer of the love and friendship that had once been his.

He was sitting at the table, engrossed in conversation with his mother. It was a quiet breakfast, one of those rare moments of peace they could enjoy together lately, as she had been increasingly occupied with court matters.

She was giving him news about Daeron and the impending arrival of some nobles for the festivities in his father's honor. Everything seemed routine, just a simple update on the day's affairs.

But then, almost as if it were of no consequence, she mentioned: "A raven has arrived from Dragonstone." Her tone was casual, almost offhand, as if she were talking about the weather or some other minor detail. However, the words fell like lead. "Rhaenyra and her family shall be joining us."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He stopped eating, his fork halted midway to his mouth, and he sat motionless. His mind went blank, struggling to process what he had just heard. She, the girl who had filled his thoughts and dreams for all those years, would be returning.

Alicent, keenly aware of her son's reaction, watched his face carefully. Despite her attempts to maintain an air of indifference, her eyes showed a flicker of concern. She knew the significance of the announcement for him, and though she tried to downplay it, she couldn't ignore the palpable tension that hung in the air.

He finally set the fork down, his mind swirling. He tried to maintain his composure, but the lump in his throat and the quickening of his beatings were hard to hide. "When, precisely?" he asked, his voice taut with barely suppressed anxiety.

"A few days before it begins, I suppose" she replied, not taking her eyes off him. "Nothing to be concerned about." But they both knew that was far from the truth. The news was anything but trivial. Her arrival was not just another court event; it was an emotional earthquake threatening to shatter the fragile calm he had painstakingly built over the years.

As the days crept closer to the celebrations, the nights grew longer and more sleepless. He found himself going over every possible encounter, every word he wanted to say to her. Anxiety gripped him, a gnawing fear that she had changed, that the woman he had loved and lost might no longer exist in the form he remembered. The thought that perhaps nothing remained of what they once shared was a weight he couldn't bear, leaving him on edge.

The days passed wrapped in a fog of anticipation. The news loomed over him inevitably and followed him wherever he went. The arrival of servants from Dragonstone only intensified this sense of imminence.

Among these newcomers was Lyra, the lady-in-waiting who, years ago, had wished him a happy birthday with genuine warmth. Now, however, her gaze was tinged with disapproval, her brows furrowed, and her expression hardened. He felt each of these gestures like a small sign of what was to come, amplifying his own discomfort.

He had set aside the books, as they no longer worked; the words blurred in his mind, and he was unable to concentrate. Instead, he spent those hours wielding the sword, until the skin of his palms became rough and calloused.

One day, waiting for his sister for lunch, he anxiously eyed the usual vase of roses, which already appeared wilted. Helaena arrived with a smile he hadn't seen in a long time, it was bright, contrasting with the gravity of his own thoughts; however, she did not bring new roses as she usually did.

She noticed his unease and, in a casual tone, remarked, "you shan’t need them for some time, I believe."

During lunch, she spoke with overflowing energy, filling the silence of the room. He, though less communicative, felt relieved by her presence and liveliness.

As they finished, he accompanied her to the door. She bid him farewell with contagious cheerfulness and went to her room, leaving him deep in thought. He lingered in the hallway, contemplating the change in her demeanor, wondering what she had meant.

Just then a roar from Vhagar echoed through the air, strong and clear. It was soon followed by another. The sound, different from usual, carried a tone of joy, almost of celebration. It caught his attention, pulling him from his reverie.

Nervous and conflicted, he closed the door and sank into a chair, burying his face in his hands. He didn't feel ready for what was coming; the feeling of losing control overwhelmed him, it was a sensation he despised more than any other.

After some period of introspection and as the commotion on the floor of the chambers died down, he decided to head to the yard. There, more crowded than usual, he found the usual scene: guards and nobles training fervently. Criston Cole waiting for him, stood ready, morningstar in hand.

"Are you ready, my prince?" Criston asked, his voice laced with challenge and a slight smile playing on his lips.

He nodded, taking a wooden shield and a sword from the armory table. They both faced each other, taking their positions. With every muscle tense and alert, he began to move his body, eager to release the pent-up nerves consuming him.

Criston was the first to attack, his movements swift and precise. He, instead, chose to maintain a defensive stance, blocking and dodging. He heard each clash, the impact of metal against wood and the crunch of the ground beneath their feet.

As the fight progressed, Cole increased his aggression, launching more powerful attacks. At one point, he managed to hit his shield, splintering and breaking the wood. He threw the remnants aside, adjusting his grip on the sword. Even without a defense, he kept his composure, with more calculated movements.

They moved in circles, gauging each other's reactions. It was then that he spotted his nephews among the spectators. The sight of him, whom he had not seen since the attack that cost him an eye, ignited a flare of anger within him. He bitterly remembered the injustice of that day, how Lucerys had emerged unscathed while he bore the scar, a permanent reminder.

Criston, sensing the shift in his energy, redoubled his efforts, but he, driven by a surge of emotion, held his ground. With precision, he found an opening in Cole's defense. With a quick and decisive maneuver, he ended the fight with the sword pressed against his opponent’s neck, securing a clear victory. The yard erupted in applause and murmurs.

Criston, breathing heavily, looked at him with a mix of respect and pride. "Well done, my prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time" he said, with a playful smile.

He had little interest in such spectacles. He viewed tournaments as mere displays, insufficient to measure a warrior's true worth.

Aemond, with heavy breathing, replied firmly with an icy tone: "I don’t give a shit about tourneys." Then, with his gaze fixed on his nephews, he addressed them "Nephews, have you come to train?" The question carried a sharp edge, a latent provocation that resonated with the unresolved hostility between them.

The young men remained silent, their expressions serious. Without waiting for a response, he turned back to the armory table and took another shield, determined to continue.

As he walked behind his mother, his gaze was fixed ahead with his siblings flanking him on either side, all heading towards the hall where breakfast would be served.

The night before, she had been absent from supper, and while he felt a temporary relief that the encounter had been postponed, it was mixed with the sadness of not having seen her.

As he entered the room, his heart skipped a beat. His gaze instinctively sought her among the others, and when he found her, it felt as though time had stopped. He tried to walk with apparent calm, though inside, a battle was raging.

She was watching him too, and in that brief moment their eyes met, he felt a jolt course through his body. None of the fantasies he had harbored about this moment could have prepared him for the reality. She was completely different, yet unmistakably the same, her essence unchanged.

She was more radiant than he had ever imagined. There was an air of dignity, confidence and grace in her bearing that left him breathless. There was a dignity in her presence, a poise that was almost otherworldly, captivating him beyond mere words. Her gaze, filled with a subtle strength, seemed to pierce through his defenses, making him feel as though he were standing on the precipice of an emotional abyss.

He quickly averted his eye, fearing that his emotions might overflow if he maintained contact any longer. He took his seat, and the ensuing silence was almost palpable, heavy with tension and unspoken feelings.

As breakfast progressed, he tried to maintain his composure, but his mind was in turmoil. Every gesture she made, every word she spoke, was a new wave crashing over him. Seeing her after so long was both a blessing and a torment. His hands clenched together on top of the table as he noticed her eyes following him, her gaze inscrutable.

She was even more enchanting than what he thought was possible. The maturity of her features only served to enhance her natural allure, making her beauty more profound. Her face, framed by the dark cascade of her curls, seemed to shine with an inner light.

Every detail, from the way her eyes sparkled with hidden depths to the delicate curve of her lips, revealed the woman she had become. Her attire, the deep black fabric draping elegantly over her, accentuated her striking features.

Each glance at her was a painful, bittersweet reminder of the time past and lost.

His mother’s words echoed in his mind: “Nothing to be concerned about.” Everything in him was concerned, everything in him was engaged.

The mere mention of Dragonstone seemed to light up her face; the joy in her expression and the smile he adored were unmistakable. At that moment, he knew her stay would be temporary. She had found a new home, a new life away from him, and the realization was like a dagger.

Upon learning that she had become a dragonrider, he felt a profound joy for her. He recalled the long nights they had spent talking about dragons, imagining what it would be like to fly. He wished he had been there to see her take flight for the first time.

When the king remarked, “The mount of the Good Queen Alysanne. It suits you well” and Helaena, by his side, nodded slightly, a dark fear settled in his chest. It was a gesture laden with foreboding that he was reluctant to explore.

A few hours later, he found himself having lunch with Helaena in her room. The soft afternoon light filtered through the windows, bathing the space in a warm golden glow. Despite the cozy atmosphere, he was lost in thought, his mind still dwelling on the events of that morrow and the memories they had stirred.

Helaena, ever perceptive, noticed his distraction. “Brother” she said softly, her voice filling the room with calmness. When he looked up, she was watching him with a tender expression. “Are you well?”

He hesitated, the words he had kept buried for so long finally emerging. “Will we be together?” he asked quietly, his uncertainty and longing for answers evident. He trusted that fate had its own path, but he needed to know if there was any possibility of a future for them.

She tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful as she chose her words carefully. “Some things will depend on you; others are already woven into the fabric of destiny. But I have found that after a long winter, summer is appreciated more” she replied with a wisdom that seemed to come from a deep place. His brows furrowed with a hint of concern. “But you must always keep the door open.”

He nodded, caught between optimism and resignation. He bid farewell to Helaena, each step he took feeling heavier under the weight of her words. As he opened the door, he found himself face to face with the person who had been occupying his thoughts. For a moment, he was caught off guard, stunned by the unexpected encounter.

“Niece” he greeted with a courteous gesture, inclining his head

“Uncle” she replied with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, a barrier he recognized immediately. “I was looking for Helaena.”

“Of course” he said, stepping aside to let her pass and holding the door open for her. With another polite gesture, she moved past him, her presence filling the space of the room. Helaena gave him a small knowing smile as the princess entered.

He let out a long weary sigh as he closed the door, feeling a growing sense of unease.

That night, after a long bath, he once again found himself unable to sleep. Sitting at the edge of his window, he gazed out at the clear sky while idly spinning a sapphire between his fingers. The distant roar of Vhagar echoed, and the restless tides mirrored his own agitation.

With a long sigh and a sudden resolve, he adjusted his patch back in place, rose and walked toward the fire crackling in his room. Lighting a candle, he moved quietly towards the back door, leaving the sapphire behind.

It had been years since he last opened it; since that night, he had avoided the path, as if keeping it shut could keep that memory at bay. Now, driven by an unknown force, he opened it swiftly and stepped into the hallway.

A light from the other end caught his attention. It was her, holding a candle, walking toward him with a serious and determined face. Upon seeing him, her eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. They both stopped in their tracks, staring at each other. Words crowded in his throat, unable to be spoken.

“I wished to speak with you” she said softly, breaking the silence gently. He nodded, still silent, fearful that his voice would betray him. “Shall we go to your chambers?” she suggested, her tone firm but laden with silent expectation.

He nodded again, feeling foolish for having been paralyzed. He gestured towards the way, even though she knew it by memory. Stepping aside to let her pass, his heart pounded with a frantic, uncontrolled rhythm. She pushed open the door that had remained ajar and entered with the same familiarity of years past.

He closed the door behind them and approached cautiously. She moved to the window, where the moonlight bathed her in a silvery glow. He noticed then how she was dressed, wearing a robe over her nightgown and her curls disheveled, contrasting with the elegance of the breakfast, yet to him, she looked utterly divine.

She faced him. A pang of sorrow struck him at her expression. “Why?” she asked, showing a vulnerability that made him feel even more guilty.

“Why what?” he replied, dreading what was to come.

“Why did you never come to see me?” The question felt like a dagger, striking with precision. He looked at her, feeling a knot in his stomach.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words escaped him. Finally, he found his voice, though weak. “I did not know if you wished for my presence” he murmured, his words sounding hollow even to himself.

She looked at him as if unable to believe what she was hearing. “Is this some jest? I asked you so many times” she said, her tone incredulous. He furrowed his brow. “Did my letters mean so little to you that you did not even take the time to read them?” she added, her bitterness palpable.

He felt as though the world was swaying beneath him. “What letters?” he asked, trying to process everything, his voice softer, trying not to alarm her further.

“The letters!” she said, her words laced with indignation and sadness. “The ones I sent you” she continued. “I thought we had something special. Did I imagine it?” Her tone trembled with emotion. “I waited for so long, I wrote to you so many times, like a fool.” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands. “I hoped… I hoped for a response, a visit, something to let me know you hadn’t forgotten me.”

He took a step forward quickly, his heart pounding against his chest, feeling an urgency he could not ignore. “You wrote me?” he asked, incredulous.

She lowered her hands, her eyes burning with impotent fury. “Do not mock me” she said, turning away, looking out the window again.

He followed her, overwhelmed by a newly discovered helplessness and a fluttering hope of reconciliation. “I wrote to you as well, hundreds of times” he tried to meet her gaze, seeking some glimmer of understanding. “I swear this to you, by all the gods” he pleaded.

“I never received a single letter from you” she replied, finally looking at him with her beautiful eyes shining under the moonlight, her anger softening momentarily with disbelief.

"Nor did I. Not one. Had I received any, I would have come to you at once. You must believe me," he said, “I thought you did not want to hear from me” he whispered desperately, his deepest fears laid bare.

“Why would I not?” she asked, still with a hint of distrust in her eyes from the revelation. Everything seemed so absurd and cruel, yet he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

She shook her head, her steps carrying her nervously back and forth in the room, her mind working frantically to understand. “It does not make any sense” her voice was a barely audible murmur, more to herself than to him. “Why?” She continued to mutter, her voice filled with a mixture of frustration and anguish, while he merely watched her.

Suddenly, she turned to face him, her eyes searching for an answer he did not have. “Are you not upset about this?” she asked, her voice rising slightly, annoyed.

He continued to watch her, feeling a strange sense of peace amid the chaos. "I cannot find it within myself to be angry at this moment," he replied, "not when you are here before me once more." His voice was filled with a sincerity that surprised even him.

There were so many emotions at play, so many unresolved things, but at that moment, all that mattered was that they were face to face once more.

“I never stopped thinking about you, wondering why I never heard from you, missing you.” He wanted to reach out, touch her, somehow close the distance that had formed between them, but he couldn’t. “I never wanted to lose you.”

“Is that true?” she asked, almost whispering. “Did you truly never stop thinking about me?” She looked at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, and in that shared silence, he understood the magnitude of what they had lost and what they might still recover.

He took another step towards her, his expression sincere. “Never” he said firmly, hoping she could see the truth in his eyes. “Not for a single second.”

She looked at him, her expression softening, and bit her lip, struggling to hold back the flood of emotions.. But the pain and confusion were still present, like a shadow that refused to dissipate. “This is… too much” she murmured, shaking her head slightly.

He nodded, understanding the enormity of what they had just uncovered. “I understand” he said softly. “Take all the time you need.”

She turned, intending to leave the room, and he followed, prepared to escort her to her door. But just before they could move too far, she suddenly stopped and turned back to him. In an impulsive move, she threw herself at him with force, wrapping her arms around his waist in a desperate embrace. She pressed her face against his chest, her hands clasped tightly on his back, holding him with an intensity that suggested she feared losing him forever if she let go.

He, taken aback by the gesture and despite feeling he didn’t deserve her pure affection, couldn’t help but reciprocate the embrace. He wrapped his arms around her with a tenderness he rarely showed, letting himself be carried away by the moment. He rested his face on the crown of her head, breathing deeply, the sweetest and freshest scent of roses filling his senses, enveloping him in an intoxicating warmth.

It was a silent comfort. He realized how much he had longed for this contact, this closeness, more than he had even admitted to himself.

"I'm sorry" she murmured against his chest. "I'm sorry for everything." Tears began to fall, dampening his shirt. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his body.

She lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with something more. He found himself getting lost in that gaze. “What do we do now?”

With a gentle smile, he caressed her cheek with his thumb, wiping away a tear that had escaped. "I won’t let us be separated again" he promised, his voice firm yet tender. “If you will allow me, I wish to mend what has been broken.”

She nodded, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to shrink to the small space between them, where only the two of them existed.

@helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @callsignwidow @squidscottjeans @scarletbedlam @fics-i-love-and-recommend @oh-you-mean-me @fossface @truly-abysmal

#aemond targaryen fluff #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x female reader #house of the dragon #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic

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nicksolemnlyswears · 3 months

Text

STAY WITH US

this oneshot can be read as a standalone.

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME (PT. 2 HELAENA'S TURN)

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader x helaena targaryen

word count: ~2.7k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of death of a child, mentions of blood, light cursing

a/n: so i lied, so sorry, my apologies, remember how i said i wanted this part to be smut? well it didn't happen. in the end it didn't seem right because these oneshots originated form a place of care and comfort [not horniness like usual]

that being said i am open to doing a series of small oneshots based on their relationship that are more spicy because regardless it lives rent free on my brain and i'd love to share the pervertedness they'd get up to. also i've never written a threesome and that seems like a good writing exercise.

hope you like this oneshot. it's really sweet and when i was thinking of what else to do with them it simply clicked. my only wish is for it to have the same comfort provoking feeling as the other two. while this little series was written as a way for me to feel better about these characters it makes me happy to know it served the same purpose for a lot of you guys. also this was my first time writing for HoTD and you're all so nice ;) THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE.

enjoy!

Without Jaehaerys by her side, his twin sister Jaehaera must adjust to being alone. Her lifelong playmate is gone, and now she ought to find her place as an only child.

The silver-haired girl restlessly jumps through different activities, searching for the one that will entertain her long enough without company. It is difficult because each time she successfully gets distracted, she turns to catch her brother's attention, only to find he's no longer there.

Queen Helaena watches her as she stitches together a new embroidery piece for a dress. The Queen spent her days with both her children, but now that one of them is gone, she spends nearly every waking moment with her daughter. Observing. Protecting. Alert.

"The three-headed dragon shall rise once more," Helaena mumbles under her breath. The maids ignore her mumblings. The Queen's words don't make sense half the time.

A squeal of delight from her daughter prompts the needle to pierce Helaena's finger and a bead of blood forms at the pad of it. Looking up, she finds you picking up Jaehaera and kissing her chubby cheeks. The girl is enamored by her cousin and the attention you provide.

"Good morrow, 'Laena," you brightly greet her, setting down Jaehaera and sitting by her on the floor. "Have you broken fast yet?"

Helaena places a hand in yours as a greeting and nods kindly, assuring you she's been eating all her meals. At times, her appetite turns into nausea as glimpses of her dead son invade her senses, but she tries fighting through it.

She closes her eyes and thinks of anything else—primarily you. You who distract her and treat her with such care without judgment of her eccentricities. It's odd how she's caught herself multiple times seeking your approval.

As Helaena returns to her stitching, Jaehaera bounces over and falls into your arms. "I wish for my hair to be like yours."

"Allow me, Princess," Jaehaera's nursemaid intervenes. She does not wish to be seen as lazy and incapable of her job to care for the children.

The small Princess holds tightly onto you, hiding her face on your chest as she settles on your lap. "No, I want my cousin to do it. She's a Princess, and I want Princess's hair."

You giggle at her words and gesture to the nursemaid that it's alright. "Come on, sweet girl, sit," you coo, positioning her in front of you.

One of the maids hands you a hairbrush, and you begin your work. As a Princess, your hair is mostly styled by your maids, but every lady should know how to style it appropriately.

"You're such a pretty girl, Jaehaera. Did you know that?" You talk to distract her from squirming too much. She's an impatient little thing, like her father.

Jaehaera giggles sound throughout the room. She hasn't laughed like that since her brother died. It brings a sad smile to Helaena's lips.

"You're prettier," Jaehaera whispers bashfully, her cheeks a healthy hue of pink.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're much more beautiful. Do you know why?"

Jaehaera shakes her head, causing you to hold tightly onto the intricate plaits you're weaving in her hair. You inadvertently smile at her benightedness.

"Because you look just like your mummy, and she's very beautiful, and she's a Queen," you gasp lightly, creating a tone of excitement in your voice.

Although she's kept her nose down while stitching, Helaena's cheeks burn just as brightly as her daughters. Your words continue to flatter her. You have a way with words that can make even the most ordinary of townsfolk feel special.

With a small, excited gasp, Jaehaera asks, "Will I be Queen one day?"

"There's always a possibility," you hum, pining the remaining plait into her hair. It is hard to explain the complexities of succession and legacy to a child when there is a current war debating that same subject. "All done, go over to the mirror."

"She adores you," Helaena sighs as she watches her daughter fawn over her new hairstyle.

"And I, her. She's the sweetest girl ever."

Helaena turns to look at you and sees the soft smile gracing your lips. Your eyes then catch hers, and your smile broadens. It makes her wonder what her life would be like if you were not around. How would she have dealt with her emotions?

"I must go, but can you come to my bedchambers tonight? There is a matter I must discuss with you," Helaena says timidly, casting aside her embroidery.

"As you wish, my Queen." You can't fault her for preferring to speak in the depth of the night when the castle sleeps, and there are no wandering eyes to pass judgment.

It gives Helaena whiplash when you effortlessly switch from calling her name to calling her 'my Queen.' She rather enjoys both terms, especially when you call her yours.

Helaena bids you farewell with a kiss on the cheek, blissfully unaware of its effect on you. Such displays of affection are not rare in court, but lately, their significance has changed for you, as Helaena has never been one to indulge in court etiquette when it involves physical touch.

When the sun has disappeared over the horizon, and the castle has quieted down, you make your way to the Queen's bed chambers.

You have always been inclined to stay in the shadows, where it's safe. You are a sheep amongst a den of wolves, and if you draw too much attention to yourself, danger will follow.

You have failed so far, considering you enjoy the company of the King and Queen. Grief unexpectedly brought you together and made your bond steadfast, but wherever Aegon and Helaena go, watchful gazes follow, thus making you part of the spectacle as well.

Otto and Alicent Hightower are taking the reins of this unnecessary war, but you feel safe under Aegon's and Helaena's careful watch. You believe they will protect you from any danger coming from within the castle walls, at the very least.

You're doing your mother a great disservice as you strengthen the bond of the King and Queen. The ache of losing a child will forever remain in their hearts, and waves of pain continue to crash, but that thick fog of grief that was cast upon them has slowly started to lift, thanks to you.

Pushing open the door to Helaena's bedchambers, you step into the room. It's well into the night, and the candlelight illuminates the room. You stumble over your steps when you notice Aegon and Helaena standing close together as if they were about to kiss.

"My apologies, your graces. I believed the Queen to be alone," you bow your head, red painting your cheeks. It's a gesture that originates from embarrassment rather than submissiveness.

"Do not apologize. We wished to speak to you," Aegon speaks, beckoning you deeper into the room.

He offers you a goblet of wine, which you accept gracefully to alleviate the dizzying wave of nerves you're feeling. You've never been alone with Aegon and Helaena. People have always been around, and up to a fortnight ago, they barely spoke to one another.

The ruling couple sought your counsel regarding their marriage, recognizing you as an intermediary. You offered your advice to the best of your abilities, considering you have yet to marry.

With time and encouragement, they reached out to each other for comfort. Piece by piece, they were able to speak and share the emotions that troubled them. Nonetheless, they kept you closer than ever.

You're the calm amidst the storm.

You take a drink of the sweet wine to busy yourself. Helaena and Aegon stand side by side, his hand on the small of her back as Helaena plays with her fingers. They're backlit by the fire burning by the fireplace. It casts a warm glow over their figures, making the situation seem much more intimate. You're certainly intruding.

"We wish to thank you for everything you've done for us recently," Helaena breaks the creeping silence. She's just as nervous as you are, if not more.

"Helaena and I have been thinking about how to repay you for your generosity," Aegon continues, staring intently back at you to gauge your reaction to his words. He's afraid of reading you wrong and fucking things up—like he usually does.

You instantly shake your head, "As I said before, there is no need-"

Helaena's following words cause silence to befall as you stare back at them in surprise. A sort of surprise they cannot read. "We wish to wed you," Helaena blurts nervously, her fingers twisting together.

This is not a moment to speak in riddles. Helaena is fully aware of the situation before her and wishes nothing more than for you to stay by their side, no matter the cost.

For once in her life, she hasn't felt lonely in the castle. She has an ally she can trust and confide in.

You've been the subject of Aegon and Helaena's conversations for numerous nights. At first, it was difficult to understand that they both held deep affection towards you while caring for each other. They debated for a long time about what to do about it and they agreed on one thing wholeheartedly—you only deserved the best.

Then, it came to Aegon.

He's named after Aegon' The Conqueror' Targaryen. The King took over the seven kingdoms with his sister wives by his side.

A simple Valyrian tradition would solve their dilemma while strengthening his claim to the throne. It's poetic, a part of history being re-enacted.

"Pardon?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You stare back at them with wide eyes as they jump from Aegon to Helaena and back to Aegon.

The goblet in your hand lightly shakes along with your hand. You place it on a nearby table, afraid of spilling it. Surely, you misheard.

"Our affection grows greater day by day. More than we ever thought possible," Helaena confesses, desperately reaching for your hand.

Your gaze falls on Aegon to seek his opinion, and he nods in agreement. There is not much to say. You have proved yourself valuable to them in a way that is much too important. You serve to keep them sane and emotionally stable. A feat no one has cared to accomplish before.

You do not use Aegon as a puppet or manipulate him to achieve sinister goals on behalf of his name, much like the rest of the court does. Those people only care for power, even if they break Aegon piece by piece. They destroy him while you take the time to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

"Such drastic actions must not be taken. I merely offered you comfort when you needed it because I care for you both," you stutter, pressing a hand to your forehead. All of a sudden, the room is warm, and a layer of perspiration forms on the back of your neck.

Aegon grunts and approaches you, cupping your face in his palms, "That is precisely why we wish to do this. You have cared for us like no one has before, including ourselves. You planted yourself in our souls, and now we cannot let you go lest we go insane. If you do not feel the same, say it, but do not lie to us."

His tone is firm, yet he cannot disguise the pleading behind it. He's never wanted something as much as he wants you.

"I-" Your palms ghost over the top of his.

It is all too much. The prospect of being wed looms over your head like a threat. Otto Hightower will have no qualms about using your lack of a husband as a war strategy. It should not be his decision in the first place, but it is out of your hands as you're considered a prisoner to him.

You would be a liar if you said you did not reciprocate their feelings. They've been present for a while now, it is why comforting them comes so easily to you. Seeing them hurt only pains you.

With this new opportunity, you will no longer be used. You will not be sold to some old lord in the countryside for the gain of a few hundred men. You would be protected.

Most importantly, you will marry a man and a woman who love you. Yes, they are broken, but with you by their side, they will thrive and rise to the occasion.

Aegon's lilac eyes beg you to accept their proposal. "I feel emotions I thought impossible. They are confusing and overwhelming, but they are real," you admit.

Relief floods over Aegon, and he can't help but release a sigh of relief. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a silent thank you to the old gods and the new.

"Will you become our wife? Our lifelong companion?" Helaena asks, coming up behind you. You feel her breath on your neck as she leans her head on your shoulder.

One word is enough to respond. One simple word will change your life. For good or bad is to be determined.

"Yes," you breathe, reaching for her hand. The smile on Aegon's lips and Helaena's giggles in your ear make it all worth it.

Aegon needed to do things right so no one could argue against your union. He contacted the Septon himself, and only a day later, after his proposal, the Valyrian ceremony took place.

He clearly instructed his guard and the Septon that they must not tell anyone, or there would be consequences.

The ceremony is quick and private amongst the gardens of the Red Keep. You wear the traditional red and gold robes and headpieces that match Aegon's.

A red dragon decorates the front of your garb, matching Helaena's golden one on her dress. She stands to the side with a faint smile, Jaehaera clinging to her dress.

Aegon carefully cuts your lip with the dragon glass. As blood surges to the surface, he presses his thumb to the cut and later spreads it across your skin. You repeat the same on his lips, staring apologetically back at him, yet the burning pain does not compare to the pain he's felt before. It's almost pleasurable as he takes in the symbolism of the gesture.

Cutting your palms, you let the blood that will bind you together for eternity fall onto the goblet. You lock eyes with Aegon as you take a drink from it, passing it to him a moment later.

He was not raised surrounded by Targaryen customs, but he has a new deep appreciation for them. The ceremony is deeply intimate as they share the blood that will mark them as one.

With a couple of final words, the Septon concludes the ceremony and with the knowledge that you are entirely theirs, Aegon crashes his lips against yours.

Aegon stayed firm in his words. He did not wish to sully your name, so he waited until the moment was right. The reward is much too sweet.

It is the first time you've shared a kiss with Aegon, and it is unlike anything you've felt before. In the past, you've snuck kisses in dark corners of the Red Keep, but none have ever kissed you with the intensity Aegon has to offer.

Helaena approaches your tangled embrace, and as you resurface for a breath, she presses her much more delicate lips on yours. The kiss is so different yet the same simultaneously. The intent behind it is identical while the pace is slower and sultrier.

Yours and Aegon’s blood coats her lips and it’s as if she also partook on the ceremony. Your heart beats intensely inside your chest but you’re happy.

Finally, you three are bonded, destined to stay together for eternity.

Jaehaerys will forever be missed. His life has become a mystery; Aegon and Helaena will never see it fulfilled. But in this tragedy, the gods were kind to Aegon and Helaena and provided a new person to love, cherish, and join their family.

were you expecting a good old throuple situation? eh, eh (pretend i'm wiggling my eyebrows and nudging your side with my elbow). im just saying she's perfect for their little dysfunctional family and the drama it will create with the Hightowers and Targaryens? immaculate.

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and gushing about hel and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

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vaokses · 16 days

Text

Never enough for both (Pirtir, Ch.4)

Series Masterlist

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Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Both sides of the family are reunited in King's Landing to formally announce the betrothal and start the celebrations leading up to the wedding.

Word Count: 7.7k (sorry, if long chapters like this bother you, I can try to make future ones shorter or divide them in parts, let me know)

Warnings: Topic of arranged/forced marriage. Usual Targaryen incest stuff. Hints at alcohol consumption in unhealthy manners. I love Maris Baratheon, so she's here, though not in all her glory as she's not taunting a man into kinslaying, sadly. ✨Childhood Companions✨. Both sides of this family are messy and annoying, and I hope I showed that properly here.

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I think I'll change uploads for this story to Sundays instead of Saturdays. Hope you enjoy!

This chapter includes some stuff also mentioned/explained in How long this love can hold its breath, a prequel oneshot in Aegon's perspective.

Title is from "So, here you are, too foreign for home, too foreign for here. Never enough for both." By Ljeoma Umebinyuo.

Your morning tea with the Queen is followed by the announcement that the Velaryon fleet -and by extension your family- can be seen quickly approaching the city, with six dragons flying alongside the boats.

You got to meet the Velaryons that arrive on the port, which are the ones sailing from Driftmark, as your mother and the rest have decided to enter the city through the Dragonpit. To your surprise, Corlys is there to greet you, after a long absence at sea.

Baela makes very unsubtle attempts to return to the Keep on your carriage with you alone, so after a quick greeting of Princess Rhaenys and the Sea Snake, you promise to meet with them later and enter the carriage with Baela.

Sitting across from her, you keep silent as you watch her, as you notice her uncharacteristically falter, lowering her eyes to her fidgeting hands.

“Corlys and Rhaenys aren’t getting along, for obvious reasons. They aren’t the only ones,” She informs you. “Daemon and your mother are…at odds with one another.”

“And you know this how, exactly?”

“I can hear the shouting all the way from Driftmark,” She jests, the glint of defiant humor shining in her dark eyes. A breath, and she explains, “Rhaena sent a raven, told me that father was furious that this was allowed to go on.”

“‘This’?”

“Your marriage to Aegon.”

“But it has been months in the planning.”

“Perhaps Daemon hoped for an…alternate solution to present itself,” She shrugs, “We both know Father would have sent you here to kill him, not marry him.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “I shall be on the lookout for new orders, then.”

Instead of joking along, Baela turns to you then, dark eyes slightly narrowed.

“Would you follow such orders?”

You offer a smile again, but you know better than to expect her to fold.

Still, you attempt, “Did Daemon give you orders to ask this?”

“No, I’m just…curious. If he had ordered you to kill them, any of them, of your…childhood companions, would you have?”

“It is a bit late to send Vermithor and I against Sunfyre and Aegon, or Dreamfyre and Helaena. We’d win, though.”

“Undoubtedly. But that wasn’t what I asked.”

“Daemon has issued no orders.”

She is more alike her father than she knows, especially when she’s on a hunt. They track weakness like bloodhounds, and they don’t cease on their chase once they’ve caught a scent.

She presses, “Perhaps because he knows you wouldn’t obey.”

“I have always done as was asked of me.”

“Have you?” Baela asks. While you admire her spirit, you do not intend to entertain accusations, and you turn to her with a glare that she smiles at. Bowing her head slightly, she amends, “I am not implying disloyalty, I just…I think you believe yourself less…unyielding than you actually are. I think you don’t like to admit you have ambitions of your own.”

It is difficult for you, even now, to push back the voice that reminds you that you have been too careless, too trusting, and you have allowed Baela to see more than she should have, more than it was useful for her to see. To lie well you must never be defined or remembered, Lady Mysaria told you years ago, an ordinary face is lost in a crowd.

And despite Baela being one of the only people you’ve been able to count on as a constant, despite the fact that by blood and love you are bound to one another, despite knowing deep in your bones that you can count on her to have your back come what may; you resent the realization that she sees in you something you didn’t intend for her to, something that isn’t useful for her to see. You do not know what to do, at the threat that she might have seen you, and might have remembered you.

“My ambitions are to support my House and my mother. I have done only what was asked of me.”

“Were you asked to promise love to Alasdair Tyrell in order to have him sail to the Shield Islands and turn them to your cause? Were you asked to use Cragan Stark’s…friendship with Jacaerys to force his hand when he refused to offer a proposal of marriage?”

If Alasdair Tyrell hadn’t sailed to the Shield Islands with the Redwyne fleet and turned them to your cause, you would have no solid argument against Lady Mysaria and her wish to marry you to him. If Cregan Stark hadn’t issued a proposal of marriage you would have had to trust only in your mother’s choices to keep the North. Either alternative would mean relinquishing control, would mean uncertainty, powerlessness, and you were unwilling to even entertain the possibility.

“I did not lie to Alasdair, my affections were honest,” At her look, you concede, “I care for him, even if I do not love him. And I merely…discussed with Cregan the realities of our expectations of one another, which he found agreeable enough to issue a proposal.”

“Hm,” There’s a smile on her lips that she learned neither from her father or her mother, but from her grandmother. The smile of a spider with an insect caught on its web. “How convenient, then, that in your honesty you earned yourself the Reach and the North.”

“I don’t appreciate accusations,” You dismiss, rolling your eyes at her answering chuckle. “When Vaemond plotted with Oldtown to challenge my brother’s claim to the Salt Throne, it was you who asked me to deal with it, it was you who told Daeron Velaryon I was to entertain his proposal of marriage to get him to share his father’s secrets.”

“You choose to embody a weapon, and you mind being wielded?” She asks, hints of laughter still clinging to her tone. Baela shrugs one shoulder. “I am not judging you, so you can stop glaring at me. If anything, I admire it.”

“Do you?”

“While Vhagar lives, you are not yet the greatest power in the Realm. Daemon would have you kill the hoary old bitch, and I might agree with his strategy, but…I commend you for yours.”

“Hm.”

She chuckles again, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pout when I remind you of a truth you mislike hearing,” She says, “Gods, you and your brother are more alike than you like to admit, did you know?”

All too eager to put an end to this conversation, you divert it towards Jace, and say,

“My mother should be arriving soon with Daemon, Rhaena, and my brothers. The Queen said they are to…start the celebrations today, if the King is well enough.”

“Is it too much to ask that they don’t arrive at all? None of your brothers should be coming here, not to mention our sister.”

“Your s-…”

Baela dismisses your words with a gesture of her hand, “Don’t bother.”

You decide not to fight this unending battle today at least, and lean your head back against the seat, regarding her quietly for a few moments.

“They have no choice but to be here, it would send the wrong message if my family fails to attend my wedding,” You say, but she presses her lips together, answering with nothing but a short grunt. “What troubles you, Baela?”

“There are too many of us together in the same place,” She tells you, as if it is obvious. She looks out at the passing streets. “I doubt an eye is all someone will lose this time.”

Your brow furrows.

“You worry me.”

She offers only a smile in return, confident and sly.

“I assure you it is mutual, sister.”

“Stop that.”

“Make me.”

___

Your mother and brothers -and you assume Daemon alongside them, you haven’t seen him as of yet- choose to spend the better part of the morning and noon with your grandsire. They remain by him as the gathering of members of the Great and Noble Houses of Westeros on the Keep grows, the highborn within the Keep and the lowborn outside of it waiting for their King to announce his son’s wedding celebrations, to write in stone the union they have known or suspected about for months now.

Your eye catches on Mina Redwyne, second eldest of House Redwyne, as she talks with two of the Four Storms. Well, your eye doesn’t catch on her, but on the deep emerald dress she has chosen to wear.

She notices your eyes on her, and turns to you with the clear intent to approach you.

Turning to accept the servants offered glass of wine, you look at Baela, Rhaena, and Rhaenys and mouth save me. Before they can answer with anything other than the laugh Baela hides behind her hand, the ladies reach you.

“Princess,” Mina greets, echoed by Maris and Cassandra Baratheon. “My congratulations on your betrothal. May the Seven bless you both.”

You nod with a little hum, taking a sip of wine to try and dislodge the knot in your throat. It hasn’t gotten any easier to hear people speak of your betrothal, even now, just shy of having the King announce seven days of festivities before the wedding is to take place.

“Thank you, my Lady,” You agree, smile in place, “It seems the both of us meet only for wedding celebrations as of late. First your brother’s in the Arbor, and now mine.”

“How could I forget?” She replies. “In a sea of green and burgundy, there you were, wearing red. I can’t say I recall you ever wearing something that wasn’t red. Or black.”

Of course she hasn’t, there was a reason for your tour and everything about it, from the servants that accompanied you to the clothes you were, were planned in order to send a message. And she knows that.

Doing your best to mask the tiredness at the game she has only just started, you smile and say,

“I am proud to wear my House’s colors. As any Lady should.”

“Not all of us can afford to, Princess,” Maris Baratheon reminds you, sly smile curving at her lips, eyes trailing over Lady Mina’s green dress. “What with the mad race to be married off like cattle and all that.”

“Hey.” You complain, gesturing with your free hand.

Maris merely laughs, quite close to a witch’s cackle, and clinks her glass of wine against yours.

“Congratulations, by the way,” She mocks. Her brow furrows, and her eyes divert to somewhere over your shoulder as she pretends to look for someone. “Though I believe it is your betrothed I am to extend my congratulations to? The man won a race he wasn’t even participating on, after all.”

“You shouldn’t scorn the ways of court. You will soon be searching for a husband, sister.” Lady Cassandra, Borros Baratheon’s eldest, points out.

“Or I could do as you do, and sulk for the rest of my days, mourning a rejection even a blind man could have seen coming,” Maris quips in response, and you share a look at the blatant insult with Lady Mina, for a moment your own quarrel forgotten. “Mother does always say I should follow your example.”

“I’d dare say it takes more than a shared name for you to be equal to your sister, Lady Maris,” Mina quips, coming to Cassandra’s defense without a second thought. “Your House’s name was not enough to warrant you the proposals Lady Cassandra has received, was it?”

You care much more about keeping Maris Baratheon, the cleverest of the Four Stroms and the daughter who currently holds Lord Borros’ ear, on your side than appeasing a daughter of House Redwyne. Mina has spent her life on the shadow of the Hightower, you know her alliances won’t change.

So, making sure to keep your tone civil, but firm, you point out,

“Some aspire to more than marriage, my Lady,” You say. “Lady Maris has much to offer her House, she can be more than a vessel for an alliance.”

“Unlike others.” Maris bites out, cold gaze set on the other woman. Each time you spend time with her in court you realize why her mother threatens to cut off her tongue so often.

“All women eventually have no choice but to bend, Princess,” Mina reminds you. Her gaze drops to the rubies on your dress and she adds, “Even women like you.”

If your smile betrays something more honest, something closer to poison, then so be it.

“There are no women like me.”

Maris barks a short laugh, improper and unladylike, “You still believe humility to be a wasted effort, I take it?”

“On the contrary, I find it admirable,” You lie, sharing a smile with the second eldest of House Baratheon. She returns a smile in kind, a little crooked but honest. You continue with yet another lie, “I just believe honesty is paramount when speaking amongst friends.”

Lady Redwyne loses none of the edge, and the way her shoulders are drawn up in tension, ruffling the fabric of her dress, reminds you of a puffed-up bird.

“We are to speak honestly, then?”

“I dare say that sounds like a threat, Lady Mina.” Maris taunts, lifting the cup of wine to her lips and looking at the daughter of House Redwyne over the rim of her glass.

“Of course,” You answer Mina’s question. With a small shrug, you prompt, “Speak with honesty, I wish t-…”

You are interrupted by a hand resting on the small of your back, startling you into silence. You turn with wide eyes towards Aegon, now standing by your side, hand brazenly on you.

“My Ladies,” He greets, brazenly false charm on display. He turns to you and bows his head slightly in greeting, “Princess.”

“My Prince.” Lady Mina is the first to greet, and your appalment at his lack of care for manners is forgotten at the sight of her attempt at charm. Your eyes narrow towards her, but you say nothing.

“You wouldn’t mind if I stole my betrothed from you for a while, would you?”

The ladies acquiesce with mumbled goodbyes and promises to speak with you again after the King’s speech is delivered. You sincerely hope they cannot find you.

Aegon leads you away from them and towards another part of the vast hall where the nobles gather, hand still boldly resting on your back. You make a point to take a step to the left, away from him, and point out,

“It isn’t appropriate to touch me in public. We aren’t yet married.”

“Would you prefer that I touch you in private? Because th-…”

“It isn’t appropriate to ask that.” You interrupt, but a smile is foolishly tugging at the corners of your lips, and he notices, because his own smile widens. You look away.

“No one expects me to behave appropriately.”

You frown, very pointedly avoiding the eyes of the Queen and her brother as you pass them by.

“And if I did?”

“Then I’d disappoint you sooner than I intend to.”

As you walk into the gardens, you stop in your pace and turn on your side to face him. hands joined behind your back, your head tilted to the side, you ask,

“Do you intend to disappoint me?”

He shrugs slightly, a downward curve of his mouth as he considers your question.

“An inevitability,” He retorts. A breath, and Aegon offers an arm for you to take. An appropriate gesture, followed by an appropriate title, “Princess.”

It shouldn’t endear you, it really shouldn’t. And yet you furrow your lips to hide a smile as you take the offered arm and let him guide you through the inner gardens of the Keep.

“Was there something you wanted to discuss?” You ask, “You did ‘borrow’ me from the delightful company of those ladies.”

“Not…exactly.”

Gods, he is such a terrible liar. You mull over is answer, his actions, for a few breaths, as you walk through the busy room towards the gates to the gardens.

“How many of those women have you fucked, that it worries you that I speak with them?” You blurt out, careful to keep your voice low, almost a whisper. You will tell yourself that the strange edge in your tone, what sounds even to you like jealousy, was part of a game, was intentional. “I know of the…activities you partake in. Court gossip may not speak about my indiscretions, but it does speak about yours.”

“None of them,” He answers plainly. A breath, a moment of hesitation, a restless movement stalled by the weight of your hand on the crook of his arm, and Aegon turns to look at you. There’s something raw, in his slightly widened eyes, in the expectant expression. “Do you believe me?”

You cannot help but think back on the previous night, and the careless way he gave away secrets he should have kept guarded, the way he seemed not to care that he is baring vulnerabilities with each breath, with each look. And you have this irrational and sudden anger at him for it, for this stupid bravery, this weakness, this rough honesty.

More than anything, you are angry at the part of you that envies him for it, for being unable to wear anything but his true face.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You answer without thinking. You aren’t sure if you’re lying or not.

“I can think of many reasons.” Aegon retorts, wry smile curving at his lips.

He doesn’t say anything else, and his attention returns to the gardens around you. It seems only then he notices the unsubtle way the lords and ladies scattered about keep staring at the both of you.

“No one of noble blood is happy with this union,” You point out before he can say anything, “Every young knight and lord in the Seven Kingdoms is cursing your name, most likely. They wanted…well, it varied, but ultimately they all wanted their blood on the Iron Throne. In marrying me, you denied them of that chance.”

“I know about being denied what I want most, but I doubt they would care about my sympathy.”

“Do you?” You ask, the beginning of a smile curving at your lips. “What, as eldest son of a King, as a Targaryen Prince, have you been denied?”

“You.”

He answers so bluntly, as if the truth is without its weight, as if it is obvious, as if it isn’t dangerous to admit such a thing, that you are stunned into silence for a breath.

“You never told me,” You say, “Before I left, you never told me of what you had attempted.”

“Why does it matter? It wasn’t enough, it didn’t change anything,” You have the errant thought that it might have changed things, it might have changed you, if you had known, if he had told you. You say nothing though, and Aegon continues, thoughts spilling past his lips with no need for wine to loosen his tongue, truths being shared like grains of sand escaping from closed fists, “Refusing them all this time didn’t change anything either, you were still-…But I did it anyways. I was always slow to learn, wasn’t I?”

A knot forms somewhere in your throat, something unnamed lodged in your chest. Because he is implying more than having merely asked to marry you.

“What do you mean?”

“My mother and Otto attempted to make arrangements, to betroth me to some lady or another, many times. I always refused them,” He shrugs, as if any of this can be easily dismissed, as if it doesn’t matter. An act, a mask of carelessness, but you notice the tension in his frame, the way his free arm is moving as if he’s fidgeting, hand opening and closing in nervous movements. “They refused to let me marry you, so I refused to marry anyone.

“I-I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“You never asked.”

“Why?” You ask, because you might have never asked before, but you have to ask now.

“I didn’t think it would change anything, I just…I couldn’t imagine it, a-a future beside anyone but you.”

Your chest pulls tight, and it is once again that overwhelming feeling of the night before, when he admitted to having asked for your hand before you left for Dragonstone. That feeling of flying on dragon back and falling, and landing harshly, and nearly missing a cliff.

And the words, the accusation, to him or to yourself, you aren’t sure, rush past your lips,

“You didn’t think of saying any of this sooner? Send a letter, something?”

“And say what, exactly?” Aegon retorts, “That I asked to marry you, for a-a way to keep you, and was refused as if I were nothing but a boy asking for the impossible? That while you were away, forgetting me, I was still-…that I couldn’t forget? That’s all there is to it, I couldn’t forget.”

Your eyes flicker between his, and he doesn’t bother hiding an old anger, an older hurt, and they both shine so clearly in his gaze now. Your breath stutters past your lips before any words an attempt to.

“It wasn’t-…”

“I told you, I wasn’t expecting it to change anything. I knew-…I know it changes nothing.”

“And yet we are less than an hour away from our betrothal being announced.”

“Your doing, not mine.” He retorts without missing a beat, and your short laugh does make a smile almost curve at his lips. It shouldn’t make you proud, the sight shouldn’t make you feel this strange yet welcomed nervousness.

“If those ladies aren’t scorned lovers of yours, why the unsubtle attempt at keeping me from their company?” You ask, but more than ever it feels as if you’re playing a part. It is a familiar strategy to you, keeping a conversation going while you try to get a hold of yourself again. For the first time since you were sent away, you doubt you can.

“The court isn’t…fond of me. Ladies like them, anyone here really, they’ll say things about me, things that are…true, even if I don’t want them to be,” He admits. Now it is you who is left looking at him while Aegon intently looks ahead. “If I can, I’d like to speak first. I just…I don’t want this to change.”

The world has changed, long ago, for you. When you were forced to open your eyes to the truth of your and your brothers’ parentages, when you were promised your very life was at risk if your mother’s claim was not secured, when you were ordered into the Chamber of the Painted Table and instructed on what your use would be going forward and sent off to tour Westeros.

The world changed, irrevocably, devastatingly, long ago, and it is no longer the world where you followed Helaena and Dreamfyre into the skies or the world where Aegon managed to make you laugh until you cried. The world has changed.

The world has changed, and yet in your mind only lingers the recent knowledge that he refused to marry unless it was you, that you dedicated all you are and more to forget the foolish promises you made and he so carelessly held on to them, chose to remember them. Remember you.

The world has changed, and yet he still feels familiar, he still seems to you the man you once knew, who could not keep a secret to save his life, who drank wine like it was a medicine drought, who managed to care deeply and not care at all in the same breath.

And perhaps that is why you speak so carelessly now, so honestly now,

“It doesn’t have to.”

Silence lingers, and you are desperate for a way to fill it, to purge from your mind the thoughts that race in your head and the pointless feelings bubbling in your chest at Aegon’s admission that he refused to marry anyone else after he was denied a chance to marry you. But once again you find yourself uncertain on how to go on, on how to play.

If Aegon is to say anything at all, it is stopped by a call from the Kingsguard for all to return inside the Keep, as the King is to join you all soon.

The Kingsguard that made the announcement -you recognize him, he is the one sworn to Queen Alicent- bows once, but remains there, expectant, demanding.

You and Aegon share a look, reminiscent of both that look as he took you to fly on Sunfyre for the first time, and of that last look as you mounted Vermithor and set to fly away to Dragonstone.

___

You barely hear your grandsire’s words, though you do notice the way his voice is stronger, his frame standing taller, than the nights before. He welcomes the Houses to the Keep, he talks about years of strife in the House of the Dragon being put to rest, he announces your marriage to his eldest son, and yet you can only think about what Aegon so recklessly revealed to you. About what it means, about how he felt, about how he remembers you, about how he feels.

A part of you reminds you that when Lady Mysaria pushed you to marry Alasdair Tyrell, you constructed a lie and sent him off to conquer the Shield Islands in your name, to prove to her that you needn’t marry while at peace. That part of you reminds you that your threat to feed to Vermithor whoever they tried marrying you off to wasn’t a lie, that you meant it with everything that was left in you.

The King collapses back into his seat, and even at the sight of his frailty the crowds continue in their cheer. Lady Mysaria explained to you long ago about the weight a full belly will have on the opinions of both noble and commoner, and how Viserys’ reign is but proof of that very fact. It is the reason she wanted you to marry a Tyrell, to secure the Reach, the most fertile region of the Realm.

“I am no longer a young man, and it is no news to anyone that the years have weighed on me,” He admits, voice still somehow carrying in the cavernous room. A pale, bruised hand reaches for your mother’s, and he squeezes her hand in his before adding, “It will be Princess Rhaenyra, my daughter and heir, who will preside over the festivities to come in my stead.”

The intention behind putting your mother, and not his wife or his Hand, as the one to act in his stead during the days to come is not lost on you, the support he once again reinstates over your mother and her claim impossible to ignore.

You venture a glance at the Queen, and though you will admit she is not a bad player, she does not easily hide her emotions as well as other ladies of the court do. Yet now, neither surprise nor offense sour her expression, and you could swear there’s calm in the deep breath that rises and drops her shoulders.

“I’ll endeavor to live up to your example, father.”

“I shall hope these celebrations are only the beginning of a new age of joy and prosperity for us all,” He says, smile wide and kind. He turns to you and Aegon, and you stare back with wide eyes, because in your head resonates like a war drum, I couldn’t forget. “And I shall hope for a long and happy marriage for you both.”

___

The Grand Maester sent word that the King would not be well enough to join you all at the dinner to welcome your family to the Keep, and though you truly wanted to ask what was the point of such dinner if your grandsire -the only one to wish for such a reunion- was not to be in attendance, you bit your tongue and let the handmaidens ready you for it.

It is a striking difference, that of tonight and your first night here. Where before everyone was stiffly held to their seats by the presence of the King alone, now you walk into the room and find small clusters of people talking and joking with one another. It is a tad cruel, that the one so intent on uniting them has done nothing but create further division.

Though, the division remains. Alicent and her father sit by one another and speak in hushed whispers, while your mother stands by the other end of the table with Rhaena and Princess Rhaenys. The rest are equally divided, with your father and Baela standing by a corner and observing them all carefully, your brothers sitting together and speaking with Vaemond and Corlys, and Alicent’s children standing together on the other end of the table.

But at least now they look like people. Dreadful people, who make it horribly hard to tolerate them, much less love them, but people. Not figurines, as unmovable and as easily cracked as Viserys’ marble ones.

At the errant thought that lingers on your grandsire’s model of Old Valyria, you find yourself eyeing the table, and you find, unsurprisingly, a napkin folded into the shape of a dragon.

It seems you were the last to arrive, as they all move to sit now. You let the servants guide you to the middle of the long table, sitting you right in front of your mother and Queen Alicent.

Baela takes the seat at your right, and you are grateful, for you are certain she knows as well as you that you will be sitting across from two women at war.

Jacaerys approaches your left side, but Aegon is faster, and when your brother pulls back the chair, your betrothed sits on it before he can.

Aegon turns to your brother with a mocking smile, and lifts his cup in a mock toast.

“Thank you, nephew.”

The taunt is childish, but it is enough to irritate Jace regardless. He shares a look with Baela, and moves to sit beside Aegon, while Helaena takes the last seat of this side of the table, sitting between Jace and Aemond, who sits at the head of the table.

You watch as your mother and Alicent engage in yet another verbal battle, speaking in the language only those who once loved one another can speak; keeping you all a captive audience.

She shouldn’t have come here, so far from the wedding. It was a mistake to come here, not to mention bringing Daemon and your brothers with her.

Lucerys eyes the roasted pig brought to the table and then looks at Aemond with cruel mirth shining in his dark eyes. Thankfully your grandsire, the Sea Snake, has the good sense to smack him on the back of his head and snap him out of any foolish ideas about taunting your uncle before you see yourself in need to do the same.

You are starting to think no one in this family has been capable of an intelligent choice or has formulated a coherent plan since your mother had you flee King’s Landing and left her father’s court to the Hightowers. And for the first time, you are glad you were sent away for those two years instead of being made to stay and try and manage this madness as Jace has been forced to do, the eldest in your absence.

“I defy my own father’s counsel in permitting this union, Rhaenyra. Do not confuse my faults with those of the men of my blood, or I will extend the same courtesy to you.”

Dark eyes flicker to Daemon, who answers to her implication with a mocking little giggle, leaning back on his chair and crossing his hands over his stomach.

“It is not your father’s faults that make me wary, Your Grace,” Your mother argues, the title a reminder, and it is only then that you notice Alicent referred to her by her name. She continues, “But the cruelty and injustice you imposed on my children, for years on end.”

Alicent’s brow furrows, eyes wide with the frenzied affront of that night in Driftmark.

“You dare speak of cruelty, when your savage sons took Aemond’s eye?”

“I do wish they would give me some credit. I did land a few good hits on him.” Baela, sitting by your side, mutters, quiet enough that only you hear. Still, you move your foot under the table and stomp on hers in reprimand.

She answers with a little laugh that is entirely a mirror of her father’s, and you hiss a command for her to be quiet, but she grabs your hand in hers and, with laughter still clinging to her tone, issues quietly the High Valyrian for be calm, lykirī.

Unaware of the small exchange between you and Baela, unaware, it seems, to the entire world beyond one another, your mother and Alicent go on in their argument, in their battle of words and of silences only themselves understand.

Your mother’s smile is a lie, a mockery, as she shakes her head, dismissing, or perhaps refusing, whatever it is the Queen has said. Rhaenyra lifts the cup to her lips and takes a slow sip of wine, putting the cup down and only then speaking again, voice calm and yet cold.

“You do not trust me, or my family. I understand this. It is why you wouldn’t marry Helaena to Jacaerys when I proposed it,” She turns to her oldest friend then, and a part of you wishes to berate her, to hide her then, because in your mother’s gaze there’s too much truth revealed. “Can you blame me for holding the same reservations as you did, now that I must entrust my daughter, my only daughter, to your care?”

Alicent answers with the faintest shake of her head, as if the mere idea of what your mother fear is unthinkable. She adjusts her posture, unmoving again. Though not in the way a stone statue is unmoving, but in the way thin ice is.

“A mother’s sins are not her daughter’s.”

Whatever it is your mother is to answer with, if anything at all, is interrupted by Daemon’s laughter, cold and mocking.

“How easily you change your tune, now that the noose tightens around your neck.”

Alicent’s expression sours in disgust at the mere sound of Daemon’s voice, and she refuses to entertain his accusation with a response. Her eyes, warm and sad, linger on your mother for a few breaths, before she abandons the fight and straightens in her seat.

Your mother shouldn’t have come here, not when she longs for peace yet the man at her side dreams of bloodied hands placing a crown upon her brow; not when her sons and Alicent’s long for violence and chaos as young men are allowed to; not when all she has done, all any of them have done, is pull you in warring directions, demanding and demanding and demanding.

You down the last of your wine, resting your empty cup on the table and drumming your nails restlessly on the glass.

Leaning closer to Laena’s oldest who sits at your left, you gesture with your chin at an open window.

“If I were to fling myself from that window, you gather Vermithor is fast enough to catch me before I reach the ground?” You ask Baela, who hides a smile behind her cup as she lifts it to take a sip from her wine.

Your jest with your sister is interrupted as someone leans closer to you. You turn to watch as Aegon, sitting beside you and pitcher of wine in hand, refills your cup.

“No, but Sunfyre might be,” He answers, as if it were him you asked that question to. At your look, he shrugs, though a smile plays at his lips. “Just say the word.”

Stupidly, more carelessly than you should allow yourself, you find yourself smiling back as you watch him lean back in his chair.

Your smile falls when you turn to see the expectant face of your half-sister, who stares with wide eyes and raised brows. Baela demands an explanation without even parting her lips, and you merely shrug in response.

Uncomfortable silence falls upon you all once again as your mother’s and Alicent’s quarrel comes to an end for now. You lean closer to Baela again and whisper,

“What does it say of me, that I am considering the offer?”

“I know not what it says about you, but it says quite a lot about this horrid evening.”

You lean back in your seat, eyeing the people in the room, forced together by the wishes and fantasies of a dying man, bound together more so by the shared wounds that the shared love or blood.

“First of many.”

“Could I convince you to marry Aegon in the ways of our House and save us all from this circus?” Baela prompts. Dark eyes divert over your shoulder, and apparently deeming it safe enough, she adds, quieter, “Or to kill him? Either way, I can gift you the dragonglass for the deed.”

She draws a short laugh from you.

“It concerns me that you have come armed.”

Your half-sister turns to you, a truly affronted look in her eyes, and whispers, “It concerns me that you haven’t. If I am to leave you here, I would do so knowing you have the means to protect yourself.”

You shrug, “I have Vermithor.”

“He doesn’t fit in a dining room.”

“And I need no protection when breaking bread, cousin.”

Baela’s smile makes her eyes narrow, and she clinks her glass against yours as she advices,

“You should ease on the wine. Usually you can lie better than that.”

“Shouldn’t you be tormenting my brother about trade in Spicetown? Or about those dignitaries from Asshai you mentioned?” You ask with a tired sigh, but still a slow smile curves at your own lips.

“Shouldn’t you be walking about, charming hosts and guests alike? Almost two years of one diplomatic visit after another, I doubt you spent them like this.”

“There was something I wanted from those Lords and Ladies. All I want from our family is an uneventful evening.”

She scoffs, “You’ll sooner bring The Cannibal to heel.”

The tension between your mother and Alicent seems to lessen, or at the very least become more manageable, as the dinner goes on. The room is filled with the murmur of ongoing conversations, and you are enjoying some pastry with what tastes like candied figs within it when Baela leans closer again and talks by your ear.

“Speaking of tormenting your brother,” Baela motions with her chin towards your left side. “I gather he’s much better at it than I.”

You turn to follow her gaze, and find Aegon leaning closer to your brother, who sits straight, frame coiled with tension. Aegon mutters something only your brother can hear, gesturing with his hand, elbow resting on the table.

“You will hold your tongue when speaking of my sister, or I will cut it off.” Jace threatens, but it seems to fall flat, for Aegon doesn’t even move away, and the sly smile on his lips only grows.

“I’ll still have my fingers,” Aegon replies with a shrug that only makes your brother further enraged. “Not to mention my c-…”

“Please stop talking.” Helaena interrupts, nose furrowed in disgust.

To your surprise, Otto Hightower laughs at his granddaughter’s words, with more warmth you ever believed him capable off. You don’t think you ever remember hearing him laugh before.

Your disbelief only grows when the Lord Hand move his chair slightly closer to his daughter’s to make room for Helaena to sit beside him and opposite of Aegon and Jace, an offer the Princess takes without a moment of hesitation.

Jace keeps his eyes on the table before him, both hands on the table and curled into fists, “Cease playing the jester, Aegon. All here know that the mere idea that a man like you is to wed my sister is enough of a joke.”

“Jace.” Your mother attempts, but you doubt even she believes her attempt at chastising your brother.

“Our family has wed us to one another for generations. To keep our bloodline pure,” Prince Aemond points out, eye sharp as it focuses on your brother. “I don’t expect you to understand, nephew, but-…”

“What is it you are implying?”

“Hm,” He muses, gaze piercing, calculating. “I mean only to point out that you and your sister weren’t married, as Baelon and Alyssa, as Jaehaerys and Alysanne were. It is quite apparent to me why, is it not to you?”

Jace moves to stand, and Aemond refuses to let the challenge go unanswered, returning the cup to the table to welcome your brother’s advance with empty hands.

Looking across the table at your father, you silently beg him to interfere, but Daemon is entirely too preoccupied with Aemond, assessing him as who looks at a cyvasse table to plan their next move.

“Speak these falsehoods at your peril, uncle.”

“What falsehoods, hm?” He taunts, his cruelty sharp and honed like a sword, “We are family, both by bonds of blood and of marriage now. Isn’t it time we stop pretending?”

A chair screeches against the wooden floor as Luke moves to stand as well, to defend himself as well, to answer to insult with violence. With a moment of hesitation with trepidation widening her dark eyes, Rhaena stands as well.

“Sit.” Baela hisses the command, and to your surprise both of them obey without question. You’ve seen soldiers follow orders slower.

It is only when he sits back down that you notice Aegon too was moving to stand, no doubt to defend his brother. You look at him with raised brows, and he answers to your unspoken question as to why he obeyed your Baela’s command with a gesture of his hands as if to say what else he is supposed to do.

Amidst the tension and the madness, you find yourself resisting the urge to laugh, and shake your head, looking away from him. You notice the smile on his lips, though, even as he too turns his attention back to Baela.

With one last glance spared at Rhaena and Luke, it is then that Baela turns her attention to Aemond.

She has mastered the mocking and belittling look her father directs at his children whenever they defy him, and the slight smirk curving at her lips only manages to add insult to injury.

Aemond shifts in his place, but refuses to give any ground. Instead of recognizing her challenge, her taunt, he turns his attention to your brother again.

“Now your brother and stepsisters fight to defend you, nephew?”

“It does your skill a disservice, My Prince, if you believe this a fight at all,” Baela retorts, the grace of her mother and the venom of her father. The way her eyes remain relentlessly trained on Aemond reminds you of a bird of prey on a hunt. “And a disservice to your family, if you mean to imply it is dishonorable that we defend our own.”

A mocking little hm leaves Aemond’s lips, one-eyed gaze flickering between your brother and Baela.

“You might wish to reconsider who you consider your own, My Lady,” He taunts. A breath, two, and then his sharp gaze turns to you, before he adds, “As your sister did.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, but neither care for an argument about your true parentage, and to be honest, neither do you. It is only a few moments later that you understand the implication in his words, that you hear the certainty that your marriage to Aegon will earn them your loyalty.

Baela scoffs, “You are more of an imbecile than I thought if you believe that.”

“Baela!” Princess Rhaenys chastises, but she cares not for it.

Aemond answers with mocking laugh that only enrages her further.

The Queen reaches over the table and grasps for her son, fingers digging like claws into his arm as she hisses some words you do not hear. It seems he doesn’t either, for he shakes off his mother’s grip and turns to face your half-sister.

“I see you do not deny it your shared blood with the Princess. Good for you, My Lady,” Aemond’s gaze turns from Baela to your brother, and a cruel twist of his lips aids the venom to drip from his words, “My dear nephew here could stand to learn to be prouder of his family.”

What feels like a dozen voices start speaking at once then, accusations and insults from both sides, the elder voices -the voices at fault for this madness, attempting to bring hounds to heel long after they’ve tasted blood- attempting in vain to speak over the chaos.

And in that moment, you are five and ten once again, Luke’s nose has been broken and Aemond’s eye taken, the smell of blood lingers in the air and shrill little voices argue, shouting over one another; and the King calls for silence but they don’t listen, bloodthirsty little beasts, what is left of children after a lifetime of licking their inherited wounds.

But it has been years since then, and the wounds are now their own, made by their own hands and adorning their own bodies, in some more evidently than in others. They remain, however, as bloodthirsty as before.

A passing comment by Otto Hightower is enough to make Daemon’s fist hit the table, and the two engage one another, trading verbal blows with a practice older than any of their children; while Vaemond Velaryon’s reaction to Aemond’s accusations make Corlys chastise his brother, starting yet another argument.

A low call of your name draws your attention from the chaos erupting on every corner of this room, and you turn to your left to find Aegon has stood from the table, and is offering a hand to you.

“Huh?” Your eyes dart between his hand and his eyes. He smiles, expectant and daring.

He motions with his head to a small door the servants have used to come and go, an invitation.

You only realized you have made your choice, that you let your hand slip into the offered hold of is, when you are being pulled into standing, when you are fighting back laughter as amidst the chaos you let him guide you out of the room and into the servant halls that run through the Keep.

Thank you for reading! I hope this was alright, and at least worth the wait!

Also, to make this shorter I had to cut the “reunion” between Reader and Rhaenyra and Jace. If you’d like to read that, drop an ask or something and I’ll post it.

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