#canon Aemond targaryen

[sweetestpopcorn]

The Blacks and the Greens 🐉 by the beyond talented and patient and every compliment imaginable @lupotterdraws featuring (from left to right) Princess Helaena Targaryen, Prince Daeron Targaryen, Prince Aemond “One Eye” Targaryen, Queen Alicent Hightower, Prince Aegon “The Elder” Targaryen, and their graces King Viserys I Targaryen, (his favourite child) the Princess of Dragonstone Rhaenyra Targaryen “The Realm’s Delight” and last but not least her beloved uncle and husband Prince Daemon Targaryen, “The Rogue Prince”

Thank you from here to the moon and back Lu! You are as talented as Balerion’s fires were hot 🐉🔥

PS: asoiaf characters, these can only be found in the books and not in a certain lizard show

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warning; future chapters will include:

Graphic Violence, XXX content, Targcest, Spoilers, Canon depravity, death and war, troubling being afoot, menacing, mischief making, genocide, murder, blood, guts, dragons etc.

Word Count ~ 2k+

Index

i ●ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi● vii ● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

Prelude ~

Princess Visenya Velaryon, had always been cited as a fair & bold creature. Born in 111AC, a smile that gleamed with mischief adorned her face, marking her most like her mother Rhaenyra. She was, indeed, the picture of a Valyrian Princess, the picture of her mother – with wide eyes and demure glances which hid the current of cunning beneath. She was a but harmless thing, playful at best, impish at worse; at least so far as her grandsire King Viserys thought. Proclaimed as the Laenor Velaryon’s only daughter – the Princess did not inherit her father’s deeper skin or the ringed seafoam shaded locks of Velaryon women. Visenya in fact, did not possess many of House Velaryon' traits, both of the body and mind she seemed of true Targaryen stock, and it was but her mother Rhaenyra who knew, the young princess indeed was just that. Visenya’s impish glares and taunts were alike to that of The Rouge Prince, and to the common Lord or Lady of the court, one might think she inherited such a trait from her mother’s uncle. However, other more insidious rumours deemed Visenya a bastard of Prince Daemon’s, conceived by her mother unknowingly, right before she had wed Ser Leanor. Such rumours would be deemed, most truthful.

i - 'Old Wounds'

123 AC ~

The Princess Visenya, having but defying her mothers’ orders found her way to the Dragonpits alone, once more. She snuck through the winding caverns the soft glow of firelight shading the stone walls, her crimson dress dragging along the volcanic sand below. It was a soothing place, she thought, the warmth of the air… the smell of dragonfire which would linger upon one’s flesh, the gentle growls, and mummers of stirring Dragons. A place in which only a Targaryen might feel at ease. However, it was not the mummers of waking dragons which echoed through the caves in which Visenya heard. Her head peaked, her brow furrowing in confusion as she heard stifled sobs. Wrathful sobs.

She walked with caution, following the solemn sound until she stumbled upon him. The silver haired boy with his knees to his chest, his fists tightly scrunched. She stopped, taking in the sight, a most startling one for the Princess. Aemond.

It was only but a few hours ago that she had heard of her half-brother’s marvellous prank, allying with their eldest Uncle, Prince Aegon; to give Prince Aemond a pig instead of a dragon, to lure and taunt him just to see his face fall from glee to humiliation. Visenya had coiled with hearty laughter as her brother’s recounted the story, she longed to have been there, to see the propitious Prince Aemond faulter. However, her joy was shortly curtailed as Aemond had stumbled upon the scene, the imprint of his stern furrow upon hearing Visenya’s laughter still within her mind. Indeed, the sight she saw before her now, was unlike his affectedly stern façade – it was weak, crumbling, hurt.

The young Princess approached him softly, her face washed with a slight uncertainty.

“Aemond?” Her voice echoed quietly.

Aemond lifted his chin. A thin veil of tears dampened his lashes, his eyes red, bloodshot, and heavy with sorrow. In response, the prince simply glanced down, his expression sullen.

"I’ve no interested in your gloating." He said.

The silver haired girl raised an eyebrow. Her mouth curved upwards in a bemused smirk. "Why would I gloat? It was a rather clever prank. Regardless, it was not I who did it."

The prince’s fists clenched. His knuckles turning white as he looked up at her, his grey eyes glaring. "Yet you snickered all the same, you all laughed at my expense! I cannot forget what you all did to me, how you all..." His voice trailed off, his gaze falling to his fists. When he looked back at her, there were fresh dampness under his cheeks as his expression turn bitter.

“Leave. I should not like you reporting back to your brothers the details of my misery.” His voice a low warning.

“I had no intention to.” Visenya raised her brow, her arms folded. As she looked upon the prince she couldn’t help feeling a flicker of pity, his gaze so bitter… so wrathful. She sighed, coming down to sit beside him.

“It was a mere jest. Do not tear yourself to bits over it. Your thoughts are far harsher than the truth of it.” Her attempt at sympathy making her cringe.

“You know nothing of my thoughts!” Aemond snapped.

The air settled between them for a moment, the silence brutal as she looked to him, her hand hesitantly placing itself on his shoulder. Aemond snapped his head, his eyes narrowing as he brushed her hand away.

“I do not need your pity.” His tone curt.

The princess rose, scoffing as she extended her hand to him below. “Get up.” She spoke promptly.

His face coiled with both refusal and confusion. “What?” He snapped.

“I said, get up. If you do not need my pity, so be it. But I cannot stand to listen to your whining any longer. Come, I am visiting Silverwing, and you shall be my torch bearer.” She smiled mischievously, her hand lifting him up, then walking to another torch mounted on the stone walls, using it’s flame to set hers alight.

Visenya walked back, forcing the rough trunk of wood into his hand. “No- “His voice grating as she then shoved her hand upon his mouth. His eyes wide with shock as she crooned into his face.

“Enough of your sulking. Come. You wish for a Dragon, no? Then you ought to learn how to tend to one.”

She pulled him with her, further into the dark caverns of the Dragonpit until they came to Silverwing’s lair. “Silverwing, māzigon naejot nyke.” Visenya cooed.  Silverwing, come to me.

The sudden shake of the earth bellow accompanied the grumbling of the large beast, her silver scales gleaming by the flickering torch light. Visenya turned, glancing at Aemond, his eyes like moons boring into her dragon.

She watched as he stepped back, his neck tilting upwards, the breeze hitting his silver hair. A smug smile came to Visenya’s lips as she turned to Aemond. His face was still set in stone, his gaze hardening as he watched the great beast. "So," the princess prompted, "Are you going to pet her? Or shall you remain sulking?”

Aemond's lips parted, he was about to make a snide remark before sighing. "Of course not." He walked closer to the dragon, standing a few feet away from her. The beast was enormous, the sheer size of her body dominating the wide cave, her lithe yet robust frame looming over the two young Targaryen’s. Silverwing's grey head looked down at him, her eyes narrowing. The prince had not stopped to wonder how the dragon would react. Aemond grumbled under his breath, then took a hesitant step forward. He looked at the dragon, its shining silver scales glinting in the dim light, his breathing hitched. The Prince could not help his anxiety, he had never been so close to a dragon before… never felt its hot breath warm his skin. He moved closer, swallowing a ball in his throat.

Aemond had taken another step forward when Silverwing's body rattled with warning, her low growls causing his steps to falter, his hand tightening on the base of the torch. He would not allow himself to look away, he would not show fear, nor would he retreat. The torch cast a long shadow upon the cave walls, Silverwing’s breath rapidly increasing as he moved closer, her nostrils flaring with each exhale. The dragon's eyes did not stray from the young prince, studying his every movement as Visenya let out a soft chuckle, revelling in his rattled stance.

"She shall not bite you." An amused smirk curled upon her lips. "Silverwing, māzigon." she cooed. The dragon's head turned, her eyes focusing on the princess before she did so.

"There, you see?" Visenya asked, she looked over to him, a small part of her finding the utmost enjoyment in the nervous expression he wore. The dragon raised her chin, letting out a soft whisp of hot air from her nostrils.

Visenya’s amusement brought no pleasure to Aemond, his expression taut, his neck tilting up to look at the dragon approaching him. The dragon halted, lowering its head almost appearing as though it were sneering at the young prince. Aemond stilled, taking one step back as Silverwing’s jaw neared him. Visenya’s eyes wide with an intrigue as she watched her dragon interact with her uncle. Silverwing was indeed, sizing him out. Aemond’s chest rose, and with that he stepped back once more, folding his arm as though he were unimpressed with the beast’s size. Silverwing giving out a soft huff as she moved, her large head nudging against Visenya.

“She was Queen Alysanne’s dragon.” Aemond spoke matter-of-factly.

“You know of her histories?” The princess raised her brow.

“Unlike you, I have decidedly taken an interest in our House’s legacy. It apart of our duty.” Aemond replied, firmly.

Visenya scoffed, turning as she sauntered towards him, her arms folded as a smug smile appeared upon her lips. “I am far too busy actually flying and tending to my dragon to have time to reading of other Targaryen’s doing the same.” Her voice haughty.

“I have yet to see you do such a thing.” He furrowed his brow in disbelief.

Aemond watched as Visenya placed a gentle hand upon Silverwing, whispering a soft farewell before they exited her lair, the princess spoke smugly, “Yes, well I do not expect you to pay much attention to my doings. Regardless, I am already rather adapt, Daemon said I did not need a saddle so-“

“Daemon?” Aemond raised his brow, and Visenya shrugged, nonchalantly about the fact. “Yes.”

The young prince furrowed his brow in deep disapproval, his stern demeanour returning as he stopped, Visenya turning as he spoke.

“Uncle should know better than to allow such a thing.” He barked. Visenya stepped forward scoffing. “So? Those bloody Maesters- “

Aemond stepped closer, his voice overlapping hers. “Those Maesters are doing their duty in making sure you are equipped to ride properly. You ought not to be going on saddleless joyrides with Uncle Daemon.” The Prince stared sharply, unyielding.

“Are you to tell on me?” The princess gritted her teeth.

A disenfranchised look came to Aemond’s face, he spoke more like a father scolding his daughter than a boy of her own age “Daemon is not fit to minding you. You are a Princess of the Relam, if anything were to happen-“

Princess Visenya’s eyes widened in both panic and fury, she could not have the precious time she spent with her father ruined by Aemond’s incessant need to dob. “But nothing did happen! If you dare speak a word of this I shall tell my brothers that I had caught you sobbing and sulking in the Dragonpits all by yourself… like a helpless, pathetic babe whining for its mother.” She interrupted.

“Do not dare.” He sneered, his gaze lowering.

“Swear you shall not tell.” Her voice raised, stern. Silence fell between the two as their gazes pierced into each other, they stood opposed in the darkened space. “Swear it.” Her tone sharp.

He said nothing, the silence lingered as he felt his strength faulter. “Fine.”

The two Targaryen’s did not speak again as they walked up out from the Pit’s entrance. Visenya’s eyes expanding in a deep trepidation as she was met with the folded arms of her mother, Rhaneyra’s face stern. “It may please you to know that you’ve had every guard and servant forced to abandon their duties so they may search for you.” Rhaneyra’s voice echoed at the carven entrance, her head tilted downwards as she gazed into the calculatedly soft eyes of her daughter.

“I had told you where I wished to go.” Visenya lowered her gaze in sweet self-admittance as her mother shook her head.

Rhaenyra spoke firmly to remind the young Princess her mother was indeed, well aware of her charmed tongue, often used to evade trouble. "And I had told you no more leisure trips to the Dragonpits without an escort.” Rhaneyra’s doubled down as the young Princess protested. “But mother- “

Rhaneyra’s tone softens as she steps forward, placing a hand upon her daughter's shoulder. “Visenya, I worry for you.”

Visenya turned her head, gesturing to the seemly meek Aemond which stood behind her “But I was not alone. Prince Aemond had accompanied me.” Visenya gave the young prince a narrowing gaze, subliminally signalling for him to nod; he did. The future Queen could not help but tilt her head, a small warmth in her chest as finally, it seemed there may be hope for some level of kinship between her own and Alicent’s children.

Rhaenyra regained focused once more, her voice almost lenient, “Aemond is but a year your prior and the King’s young son no less, tis not his duty to protect you. And while I am glad of the peace the two of you have forged...” Rhaenyra sighed softly, and shook her head a little, clearly unimpressed. “I will not have my only daughter risking her life to get to the Dragonpits, without a proper escort. The streets are most unpredictable, my girl.” She shuddered.

“I did not take the streets.” Visenya protested, a small smile upon her face as though the news would be pleasing to her.

Rhaenyra frowned, stepping forward to Aemond as her concern reignited as she gazed at them both, “You took the passages?" She leaned towards her daughter, her voice hushed so that her half-brother would not hear. "I ought to have the mind to bar you in your chambers until the moon turns!” Rhaneyra's tone hardened once more.

Visenya looked down, her gaze ruminating on the floor as her mother’s tone grew stern, there was a pause; she felt embarrassment coil within her, why must mother do this in front of him, she thought. Rhaenyra sighed as she noted her daughter’s meek demeanour she let her frustration dissipate, she did not dare scold her own child in front of her half-brother.  Aemond noticed the tension ease between them, he remained still, his arms held behind his back as he watched Visenya. Satisfaction bloomed within him; he’d never seen her so… passive.  

Rhaenyra yielded, her tone softening, “You must take an escort, sweet girl. I’ve little desire to strip you of your freedoms, so do not force me to do so.” Visenya looked up, her pale violet eyes meeting those of her mother, Rhaenyra placed a gentle hand upon her daughter’s head, stroking her silver hair.

Visenya gave a small and conceded, “Yes, mother…”

As the moment came to an end, Rhaneyra’s gaze came to the young green prince before her, Alicent’s son… her father’s son… her younger brother.

Aemond shuffled under his sister’s gaze, they had hardly ever spoken all he knew was that she bore bastards, that she was the King’s favoured child. Rhaenyra spoke again, clearing her throat. “Come, the both of you. I fear the Queen, has sent for your whereabouts, Aemond.”

With that, the three Targaryen's took to exit the Dragonpits, not another word was uttered.

○ii○

[eschercaine]

You mean to tell me that Aemond Targaryen, the kinslayer, regrets killing Luke? Bullshit.

Jeez, book!Aemond is much better than Ryan’s Almond Milk.

And again with the writers making stupid excuses for the audience to sympathize with the Greens while vilifying the Blacks.

[thesilverlady]

What do you think about "i was bullied in highschool and became mass shooter because of it" Aemond's backstory in the show?

since both asks are similar I thought to answer them together.

well, I cannot stretch enough how much I don't like the "uwu I was bullied as a kid" backstory they gave to Aemond. Perhaps I could have swallowed it if I hadn't read f&b years ago, but I have and it's just an insult to book Aemond honestly

That boy was a psycho from childhood; and he would have never allowed his nephews and of all people Aegon to mock him all day every day.

I've mentioned this before but the show tries to change the characters personalities while keeping their canon actions - which results into a nice salad of inconsistency and a mess.

Canon Aemond is unhinged, prideful, impulsive, unforgiving and cruel.

GRRM loves writing irony and there's so much in all of his books. The fact that Otto had been trying to say how terrible, and dangerous Daemon is and how he'd be the second coming of Maegor the cruel, only for his own grandson to turn out the way he did... well, it's one of the great instances where he uses irony in his storytelling.

And don't get me wrong, the thing they tried to do with Aemond in the show could have worked... if he wasn't Aemond. If they had an entire new character to base it on.

it makes no sense for Aemond to allow mistreatment, to have no close relationship with his elder brother, to have no contro of his dragon, to be regretful of his own action, to have his agency taken away. That's not Aemond Targaryen

So, yeah, I don't like what they did in the show. I pretend I don't see it

[lauraneedstochill]

Boy meets world, S7EP19 // post by @bookwyrminspiration // Michael Dickman, Killing flies // Margaret Atwood, Shapechangers in Winter // Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe // Better Call Saul, S1EP9 // unknown (x) // Glee, S4EP4 // Little Women (2019) // Dante Émile, After Abel // George R. R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons // Pietro Novelli, Cain Killing Abel // unknown (x) // Genesis 4:9 // Joan Didion, South and West // Sherlock, S1EP1 // 520 Studios, I Wanted To Feel Loved Without Feeling Like I Was Begging For It // by twitter user @/thehauntedqueen.

web weaving on: Jaehaerys Targaryen & the grief of losing a child // Sunfyre & his eternal devotion // Alicent & Gwayne (coming soon)

[flowerandblood]

Duty and desire (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x niece • wife female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, angst, praise kink activated, lactation kink, fluff ]

[ description: An incident between her husband and their sons causes her uncle to completely break down. She decides to show him how deep her feelings are towards him and to comfort him. A heartbroken, vulnerable, infatuated Aemond in need of simple tenderness. ]

Author’s note: The events of this oneshot are part of the canon of The Fall from the Heavens series and feature the same characters. I couldn't sleep and that's how I mentally coped with what I saw in the second episode of the second season. You're welcome, lol. If you still didn't watch it, wait with reading it (if you don't like any kind of spoilers). It can be read as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had returned to their chamber earlier, tense and visibly frustrated despite the fact that he usually spent that part of the day sparring with their sons, training them in the wielding of the sword.

She smiled at him from above her book, watching as he involuntarily looked into the cradle where Visenya slept peacefully.

The birth of their first daughter was joyous news for the entire kingdom, including them.

"So early?" She asked, spreading out comfortably in her chair, curious about this change of plans. Her uncle only pursed his lips at her words, walking over to the table where she sat and reached for a cup, into which he poured himself a little wine.

He remained silent.

A bad sign.

"What's happened?" She asked immediately, seeing that hundreds of thoughts were currently running through his mind, which if they did not find an outlet would eventually explode in the form of his fury.

He took a few deep sips from his goblet without looking at her, setting it down with a loud clink of steel on the table.

"Viserys and Aegon have suggested that Ser Robert should be the one to train them today. They apparently want to become archers." He said with a sneer and anger that startled her. She swallowed hard, closing the book, understanding full well that his words were only the tip of what he was really thinking about.

"In your presence they always feel they have to prove themselves. They're afraid of being ridiculed in front of you. Maybe it's…"

"At their age I dreamt of my father doing for me what I do for them. This is our time together." He growled, looking out of the corner of his eye into the area where she sat, but not directly at her, immersed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.

"I know." She whispered and her words, something about the way she said them made his lip tremble, made him lower his head in shame and cover his face with his hand, drawing in air loudly.

"They are terrified at the sight of me. Both of them. They don't love me, they just fear me. Their own father." He mouthed, his quivering voice betraying that although he tried to control himself, something about the thought had broken him.

She stood up from her seat, shaking her head, coming up to him quickly, wanting to touch his arm with her hand, but he moved away and turned his head, not wanting her to see what was happening to him.

"If you could hear with what pride and admiration they speak of you when you are not there. They so desperately want to please you." She muttered in pain, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he might have believed he was a bad father, when they both knew how hard he tried.

"To please me? My sons, they live to please me? And if they don't then what will happen to them? Hm?" He asked and fell silent, looking at her at last, his eye red with grief and despair, his face simultaneously red and pale with emotion, his lips parted in a heavy breath.

He covered his eyes with his hand as he burst into silent sobs, as if he had not stifled the thought for a day or a month, but for years, ever since their first son had been born.

She looked at him in disbelief, stunned, at the same time hurt and saddened by his words, by the thought of how he judged and perceived himself.

"Looking into my eyes do you see anything other than love?" She asked, renewing her attempt, taking a step towards him, and this time he didn't pushed her away, looking at her uncertainly.

"– it's something else –" He whispered.

"– how can it be? – do you think I would love a man who is a bad father to my children? –" She asked further, and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing, his cheeks red from tears.

"– stop it –" He said and turned away, wiping his face, walking to the other side of the room, embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness.

"– sit down on the bed, husband – I want to explain a few things to you –" She finally said.

He sighed heavily and did as she asked, making room beside himself, looking down at his hands, heartbroken. She, however, walked up to him and did not sit next to him, but on his lap, surprising him by taking his warm, red face in her hands, stroking his moist skin with her thumbs.

For a moment she simply looked at him, all helpless and vulnerable, feeling the heat in her chest.

"– you're defending our family – you're the rock that protects us – you have to show strength – be determined – and that's hard when you're king and father at the same time – the burden of the crown is great and you know it – you're trying to prepare them for it –" She whispered, with each successive word placing kisses on his red face: on his forehead, his temple, his eyebrows, his eyelid, his cheekbone, his lips, his jaw.

She felt his hands involuntarily rise to her waist, stroking her through the material of her gown.

"– so why don't they understand this? – why do they push me away? –" He muttered, focusing his gaze on her full, plump lips, his manhood hidden in his breeches pulsed softly in a natural reaction to her closeness.

"– because they are still children – children who need their father to love them no matter what – a father who will sometimes let them go their own way –" She said softly, in a gentle, light motion untying the black ribbon at the back of his head, making the front strands of his silver hair fall over his shoulders.

"– I just want to spend time with them like a father with his sons – I want them to need me –" He whispered, and she nodded, letting his broad hand move her hip closer, making her body press against his.

"– I know, my husband – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered and heard him draw in the air loudly, surprised, his erection pulsed hard between her thighs.

She licked her lips, wondering if he was aroused by what he was hearing.

"– my husband is so good to me –" She gasped softly, letting their lips join in hot, sticky, lazy kisses, making wonderful heat surge through her body. "– my sweet friend – my sweet boy –"

She shuddered as his fingers tightened on the material of her gown, his throat leaving a sound she had never heard before.

He moaned.

Not the way he usually did, low and deep, when it was on the verge of panting, but high, the way she did when he gave her sweet pleasure.

Their fingers tightened on their bodies, letting their mouths find each other in greedy, violent, deep kisses – his cock between her thighs swelled all over and pulsed, hot, betraying that he was now completely ready to possess her.

"– I love you – please –" He muttered, forcibly ripping her gown off her shoulders, exposing her naked breasts, all swollen with milk. Something like a sigh of delight and relief left his throat as he sank his face into her sternum, his thumbs stroking and teasing her nipples hard from the cold.

She moaned as she tilted her head back, untying the material of his breeches, feeling the wonderful, pleasurable wetness between her thighs, proving that she was ready to receive him deep inside her.

"– my sweet husband deserve to be soothed – doesn't he? – to feel his beloved wife – how warm she is – how wet she is –" She whispered, cupping his swollen, quivering erection in her palm, feeling how incredibly hard it was, its tip thick and smooth, dripping with his moisture.

"– yes –" He mumbled in shame, directing one of her breasts to his face, holding it in his hand, finding her nipple with his mouth, beginning to suck it loudly along with her milk as she guided the head of his cock against her pulsing slit.

"– ah – my husband is so hard for me – makes me feel so fucking good – so, so big –" She cooed, sinking slowly onto his manhood only to lift herself on it with a loud click of her wetness, opening her thirsty, fleshy cunt again and again on his long, throbbing erection.

"– f-fuck –" He exhaled, embarrassed, imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, clearly aroused by what she was saying and how she was behaving, needing her affection, her acceptance, her closeness, everything he couldn't ask of anyone else outside the door of their chamber.

"– it's all yours, my dearest – I can ride you all night – you'll fill me with your seed as many times as I need, won't you? –" She gasped, and he groaned loudly into the skin of her breasts, clamping his hot hands on her hips, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow, panting and quivering along with her.

She wasn't sure she had ever experienced a similar orgasm, so overpowering, hot, soothing, delightful.

"– f-fuck – f-fuck, Aemond, yes –" She whimpered, throwing her head back as she felt his body convulse, his warm seed filling her womb wit his low moans of pleasure.

He released her nipple from his mouth, panting heavily, snuggling his cheek into her chest, letting her arms embrace him in a tight grip, her lips placing tender, hot kisses on his hair.

"– forgive me – I'm ashamed – I –"

"– you are my husband – let me give you relief when you need it –" She whispered, combing her fingers through his long hair.

"– but – it was –"

"– a husband can show tenderness and understanding to his wife, but a wife to her husband cannot? –" She asked in pain, and he swallowed hard, letting out a loud, shuddering breath.

"– it won't happen again –" He muttered, needing, apparently, for her to tell that lie so he could stop thinking about how weak he was, how he needed it, how pleasant it was.

That he would beg in his mind for more.

More of her tenderness.

More of her praise.

More of her love.

"– as you wish –"

[saltandfire-blog]

By the amazingly talented @lonelymagpies 👏👏! I had so much fun collaborating with her on portraying Aemond and Lucerys from my story Salt and Fire and their evolution of friendship throughout the years.

She did an absolutely incredible job creating my canon divergent Luke who got to grow older and become the dragonriding Lord of the Tides he was meant to be 💙

[meanqueens]

The Real Alicent Hightower

(or, a compilation of every passage in George R. R. Martin’s “Fire and Blood” pertaining to her character)

(unless i missed something, in which case please let me know and i can update this post!)

disclaimer: my goal was not to include every time her name was mentioned, but rather to highlight everything that could be indicative of her actual character (i.e. things that she did or were done to/said about her). for full contexts and details regarding other characters, i highly recommend reading F&B yourself.

Heirs of the Dragon—A Question of Succession

“Ser Otto brought his wife and children to court with him, and served King Jaehaerys faithfully for the years remaining to him. As the Old King’s strength and wits began to fail, he was oft confined to his bed. Ser Otto’s precocious fifteen-year-old daughter, Alicent, became his constant companion, fetching His Grace his meals, reading to him, helping him to bathe and dress himself. The Old King sometimes mistook her for one of his daughters, calling her by their names; near the end, he grew certain she was his daughter Saera, returned to him from beyond the narrow sea. In the year 103 AC King Jaehaerys I Targaryen died in his bed as Lady Alicent was reading to him from Septon Barth’s Unnatural History.” “Another woman had caught his eye. He announced his intention to wed Lady Alicent of House Hightower, the clever and lovely eighteen-year-old daughter of the King’s Hand, the girl who had read to King Jaehaerys as he lay dying. The Hightowers of Oldtown were an ancient and noble family, of impeccable lineage; there could be no possible objection to the king’s choice of bride. Even so, there were those who murmured that the Hand had risen above himself, that he had brought his daughter to court with this in mind. A few even cast doubt on Lady Alicent’s virtue, suggesting she had welcomed King Viserys into her bed even before Queen Aemma’s death. (These calumnies were never proved, though Mushroom repeats them in his Testimony and goes so far as to claim that reading was not the only service Lady Alicent performed for the Old King in his bedchamber.)”

“When King Viserys took Alicent Hightower to wife in 106 AC, House Velaryon was notable for its absence. Princess Rhaenyra poured for her stepmother at the feast, and Queen Alicent kissed her and named her “daughter.” The princess was amongst the women who disrobed the king and delivered him to the bedchamber of his bride.” "...mummers and singers heralded the birth of each new Targaryen princeling. Queen Alicent had soon proved to be as fertile as she was pretty. In 107 AC, she bore the king a healthy son, naming him Aegon, after the Conqueror. Two years later, she produced a daughter for the king, Helaena; in 110 AC, she bore him a second son, Aemond, who was said to be half the size of his elder brother, but twice as fierce." "“Ser Criston protects the princess from her enemies, but who protects the princess from Ser Criston?” Queen Alicent asked one day at court. The amity between Her Grace and her stepdaughter had proved short-lived, for both Rhaenyra and Alicent aspired to be the first lady of the realm…and though the queen had given the king not one but two male heirs, Viserys had done nothing to change the order of succession." "Still, questions persisted, not the least from Queen Alicent herself. Loudest amongst her supporters was her father, Ser Otto Hightower, Hand of the King." "Even after Ser Otto had returned to Oldtown, a “queen’s party” still existed at court; a group of powerful lords friendly to Queen Alicent and supportive of the rights of her sons. Against them was pitted the “party of the princess.” King Viserys loved both his wife and daughter, and hated conflict and contention. He strove all his days to keep the peace between his women, and to please both with gifts and gold and honors."

"In 111 AC, a great tourney was held at King’s Landing on the fifth anniversary of the king’s marriage to Queen Alicent. At the opening feast, the queen wore a green gown, whilst the princess dressed dramatically in Targaryen red and black. Note was taken, and thereafter it became the custom to refer to “greens” and “blacks” when talking of the queen’s party and the party of the princess, respectively. In the tourney itself, the blacks had much the better of it when Ser Criston Cole, wearing Princess Rhaenyra’s favor, unhorsed all of the queen’s champions, including two of her cousins and her youngest brother, Ser Gwayne Hightower."

"Though [Daemon] treated Queen Alicent with all the courtesy due her station, there was no warmth between them, and men said that the prince was notably cool toward her children, especially his nephews, Aegon and Aemond, whose birth had pushed him still lower in the order of succession."

"...entertained [Rhaenyra] by making mock of the greens at court, the “lickspittles” fawning over Queen Alicent and her children."

"Others assert that it was at Queen Alicent’s urging that Viserys sent Daemon away."

"Queen Alicent had her own candidate: her eldest son, Prince Aegon, Rhaenyra’s half-brother. But Aegon was a boy, the princess ten years his elder. Moreover, the two half-siblings had never gotten on well. “All the more reason to bind them together in marriage,” the queen argued. Viserys did not agree. “The boy is Alicent’s own blood,” he told Lord Strong. “She wants him on the throne.”"

"(The princess always took care to refer to Queen Alicent’s sons as half-brothers, never as brothers.)"

"Denied Rhaenyra’s favor, Criston Cole turned to Queen Alicent instead. Wearing her token, the young Lord Commander of the Kingsguard defeated all challengers, fighting in a black fury."

"King Viserys was most wroth as well; a joyous celebration had become the occasion of grief and recrimination. It was said that Queen Alicent did not share his displeasure, however; soon after, she asked that Ser Criston Cole be made her personal protector. The coolness between the king’s wife and the king’s daughter was plain for all to see; even envoys from the Free Cities made note of it in letters sent back to Pentos, Braavos, and Old Volantis."

"The court was still rejoicing over the birth of the princess’s child when her stepmother, Queen Alicent, also went into labor, delivering Viserys his third son, Daeron…whose coloring, unlike that of Jace, testified to his dragon blood. By royal command, the infants Jacaerys Velaryon and Daeron Targaryen shared a wet nurse until weaned. It was Said that the king hoped to prevent any enmity between the two boys by raising them as milk brothers. If so, his hopes proved to be sadly forlorn."

"...King Viserys was delighted with him when the child was presented at court. These feelings were not shared by his queen. “Do keep trying,” Queen Alicent told Ser Laenor, according to Mushroom, “soon or late, you may get one who looks like you.” And the rivalry between the greens and blacks grew deeper, finally reaching the point where the queen and the princess could scarce suffer each other’s presence. Thereafter Queen Alicent kept to the Red Keep, whilst the princess spent her days on Dragonstone..."

"According to Mushroom, this only served to deepen her resentment of her stepmother, Queen Alicent, who remained slender and graceful at half again her age. The sins of the fathers are oft visited on the sons, wise men have said; and so it is for the sins of mothers as well. The enmity between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra was passed on to their sons, and the queen’s three boys, the Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, grew to be bitter rivals of their Velaryon nephews, resentful of them for having stolen what they regarded as their birthright: the Iron Throne itself."

"His father and mother would never allow him to go near Vhagar, Aemond knew, much less try to ride her. So he made certain they did not know..."

"...these courtesies did not appease their vengeful mothers. Queen Alicent demanded that one of Lucerys Velaryon’s eyes should be put out, for the eye he had cost Aemond. Princess Rhaenyra would have none of that, but insisted that Prince Aemond should be questioned “sharply”..."

"His Grace further commanded his wife and daughter to kiss and exchange vows of love and affection. But their false smiles and empty words deceived no one but the king."

"King Viserys further decreed that Queen Alicent and her sons would return with him to court, whilst Princess Rhaenyra confined herself to Dragonstone with her sons."

"...bringing the princess and her sons back to King’s Landing, where more conflict with the queen and her own brood would have been inevitable."

"In King’s Landing, however, Queen Alicent grew most wroth when she learned the babe had been named Aegon, taking that for a slight against her own son Aegon…which, according to The Testimony of Mushroom, it most certainly was."

"The princess and the queen were both commanded to attend, with all their children. In a show of amity, each woman wore the other’s color and many declarations of love were made, to the king’s great pleasure. Prince Daemon raised a cup to Ser Otto Hightower and thanked him for his leal service as Hand. Ser Otto in turn spoke of the prince’s courage, whilst Alicent’s children and Rhaenyra’s greeted one another with kisses and broke bread together at table. Or so the court chronicles record."

"Queen Alicent, however, insisted that the princess and her maester had mutilated His Grace unnecessarily. Had they not “meddled,” she claimed, Grand Maester Mellos would surely have saved the king’s fingers as well as his life. She urged the appointment of one Maester Alfador, presently in service at the Hightower. Viserys, beset from both sides, chose neither, reminding both the princess and the queen that the choice was not his to make."

The Dying of the Dragons—The Blacks and the Greens

"The servant ran to inform Queen Alicent, whose apartments were on the floor below the king’s. Septon Eustace, writing on these events some years later, points out that the manservant delivered his dire tidings directly to the queen, and her alone, without raising a general alarum. Eustace does not believe this was wholly fortuitous; the king’s death had been anticipated for some time, he argues, and Queen Alicent and her party, the so-called greens, had taken care to instruct all of Viserys’s guards and servants in what to do when the day came. (The dwarf Mushroom suggests a more sinister scenario, whereby Queen Alicent hurried King Viserys on his way with a pinch of poison in his hippocras. It must be noted that Mushroom was not in King’s Landing the night the king died, but rather on Dragonstone, in service with Princess Rhaenyra.) Queen Alicent went at once to the king’s bedchamber, accompanied by Ser Criston Cole, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Once they had confirmed that Viserys was dead, Her Grace ordered his room sealed and placed under guard. The serving man who had found the king’s body was taken into custody, to make certain he did not spread the tale. Ser Criston returned to White Sword Tower and sent his brothers of the Kingsguard to summon the members of the king’s small council. It was the hour of the owl."

"The council convened in the queen’s apartments within Maegor’s Holdfast."

"Gathering in the queen’s chambers as the body of her lord husband grew cold above were Queen Alicent herself..."

"“Mayhaps Her Grace the queen would care to write the message, so as to soften these sad tidings with some words of condolence?”"

"“King,” insisted Queen Alicent. “The Iron Throne by rights must pass to His Grace’s eldest trueborn son.”"

"“My own head will be the first cut off, I do not doubt, but your queen, my daughter, will soon follow.” Queen Alicent echoed him. “Nor will they spare my children,” she declared. “Aegon and his brothers are the king’s trueborn sons, with a better claim to the throne than her brood of bastards. Daemon will find some pretext to put them all to death. Even Helaena and her little ones. One of these Strongs put out Aemond’s eye, never forget. He was a boy, aye, but the boy is the father to the man, and bastards are monstrous by nature.”"

"“Mayhaps the whore will die in childbirth,” Queen Alicent is reported to have said (according to Mushroom)."

"And so each of the conspirators slashed their palms and clasped hands with one another, swearing brotherhood. Queen Alicent alone amongst them was excused from the oath, on account of her womanhood. Dawn was breaking over the city before Queen Alicent dispatched the Kingsguard to bring her sons Aegon and Aemond to the council. (Prince Daeron, the youngest and gentlest of her children, was in Oldtown, serving as Lord Hightower’s squire.)"

"Ravens flew, but not to Dragonstone. They went instead to Oldtown, to Casterly Rock, to Riverrun, to Highgarden, and to many other lords and knights whom Queen Alicent had cause to think might be sympathetic to her son."

"“Then we must see that [Borros Baratheon] leads [the lesser storm lords] to our king,” Queen Alicent declared. Whereupon she sent for her second son."

"...Queen Alicent knew they could delay no longer. Prince Aegon had grown weary of secrecy. “Am I a king or no?” he demanded of his mother. “If I am king, then crown me.”"

"His mother, Queen Alicent, beloved of the smallfolk, placed her own crown upon the head of her daughter, Helaena, Aegon’s wife and sister. After kissing her cheeks, the mother knelt before the daughter, bowed her head, and said, “My Queen.”"

"...Queen Alicent had ordered Viserys’s crown locked away..."

"The princess shrieked curses all through her labor, calling down the wrath of the gods upon her half-brothers and their mother, the queen, and detailing the torments she would inflict upon them before she would let them die."

"[Rhaenyra's] first act as queen was to declare Ser Otto Hightower and Queen Alicent traitors and rebels."

"But when the two queens—his mother, Queen Alicent, and his wife, Queen Helaena— spoke in favor of Orwyle’s proposal, the truculent king gave way reluctantly. So Grand Maester Orwyle was dispatched across Blackwater Bay under a peace banner..."

The Dying of the Dragons—A Son for a Son

"Queen Alicent went pale when she heard what [Aemond] had done, crying, “Mother have mercy on us all.”"

"Unbeknownst to King Aegon, the Hand, or the Queen Dowager, [Daemon] had allies at court as well, even on the green council…"

"Instead they slipped into [Otto's] daughter’s chambers, one floor below. Queen Alicent had taken up residence there after the death of King Viserys, when her son Aegon moved into Maegor’s Holdfast with his own queen. Once inside, Cheese bound and gagged the Dowager Queen whilst Blood strangled her bedmaid. Then they settled down to wait, for they knew it was the custom of Queen Helaena to bring her children to see their grandmother every evening before bed."

"As they entered the apartments, Helaena was holding his little hand and calling out her mother’s name."

"Queen Alicent had commanded Larys Clubfoot to learn [Blood's] true name, so that she might bathe in the blood of his wife and children, but our sources do not say if this occurred."

"The king had no recourse but to take the boy from [Helaena] and give him over to their mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent, to raise as if he were her own."

The Dying of the Dragons—The Red Dragon and the Gold

"Though his mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent, spoke up in Ser Otto’s defense, His Grace turned a deaf ear to her pleading."

"...thousands left King’s Landing afterward, until the Dowager Queen Alicent ordered the city gates closed and barred."

"None was allowed to disturb [Aegon II's] rest, save his mother the Queen Dowager and his Hand, Ser Criston Cole."

"The Queen Dowager favored caution as well, urging her son to wait until his brother the king and his dragon, Sunfyre the Golden, were healed, so they might join the attack."

"...it fell to his mother, the Queen Dowager, to see to the city’s defenses. Queen Alicent rose to the challenge, closing the gates of castle and city, sending the gold cloaks to the walls, and dispatching riders on swift horses to find Prince Aemond and fetch him back. As well, she commanded Grand Maester Orwyle to send ravens to “all our leal lords,” summoning them to the defense of their true king."

"Queen Alicent’s riders got no farther than the gates, where more gold cloaks took them into custody. Unbeknownst to Her Grace, the seven captains commanding the gates, chosen for their loyalty to King Aegon, had been imprisoned or murdered the moment Caraxes appeared in the sky above the Red Keep..."

"Upon seeing that resistance was hopeless, the Dowager Queen Alicent emerged from Maegor’s Holdfast with her father, Ser Otto Hightower..."

"...Queen Alicent attempted to treat with her stepdaughter. “Let us together summon a great council, as the Old King did in days of old,” said the Dowager Queen, “and lay the matter of succession before the lords of the realm.” But Queen Rhaenyra rejected the proposal with scorn. “Do you mistake me for Mushroom?” she asked. “We both know how this council would rule.” Then she bade her stepmother choose: yield or burn. Bowing her head in defeat, Queen Alicent surrendered the keys to the castle and ordered her knights and men-at-arms to lay down their swords. “The city is yours, Princess,” she is reported to have said, “but you will not hold it long. The rats play when the cat is gone, but my son Aemond will return with fire and blood.”"

"Not even the Dowager Queen seemed to know where [Aegon II, Jaehaera, Maelor, Willis Fell, Rickard Thorne] had gone..."

The Dying of the Dragons—Rhaenyra Triumphant

"Queen Alicent was fettered at wrist and ankle with golden chains, though her stepdaughter spared her life “for the sake of our father, who loved you once.” Her own father was less fortunate."

"The Sea Snake proposed to let the Faith take charge of Dowager Queen Alicent and Queen Helaena, so that they might spend the remainder of their lives in prayer and contemplation."

"Words of these plans soon reached the ears of the Dowager Queen, filling her with terror. Fearing for her sons, Queen Alicent went to the Iron Throne upon her knees, to plead for peace. This time the Queen in Chains put forth the notion that the realm might be divided; Rhaenyra would keep King’s Landing and the crownlands, the North, the Vale of Arryn, all the lands watered by the Trident, and the isles. To Aegon II would go the stormlands, the westerlands, and the Reach, to be ruled from Oldtown. Rhaenyra rejected her stepmother’s proposal with scorn. “Your sons might have had places of honor at my court if they had kept faith,” Her Grace declared, “but they sought to rob me of my birthright, and the blood of my sweet sons is on their hands.” “Bastard blood, shed at war,” Alicent replied. “My son’s sons were innocent boys, cruelly murdered. How many more must die to slake your thirst for vengeance?” The Dowager Queen’s words only fanned the fire of Rhaenyra’s wroth. “I will hear no more lies,” she warned. “Speak again of bastardy, and I will have your tongue out.” Or so the tale is told by Septon Eustace. Munkun says the same in his True Telling. Here again Mushroom differs. The dwarf would have us believe that Rhaenyra ordered her stepmother’s tongue torn out at once, rather than merely threatening this. It was only a word from Lady Misery that stayed her hand, the fool insists; the White Worm proposed another, crueler punishment. King Aegon’s wife and mother were taken in chains to a certain brothel, and there sold to any man who wished to have his pleasure of them. The price was high; a golden dragon for Queen Alicent, three dragons for Queen Helaena, who was younger and more beautiful. Yet Mushroom says there were many in the city who thought that cheap for carnal knowledge of a queen. “Let them remain there until they are with child,” Lady Misery is purported to have said. “They speak of bastards so freely, let them each have one for their very own.”"

"...word of battle and betrayal at Tumbleton had reached King’s Landing. It is said the Dowager Queen Alicent laughed when she heard. “All they have sowed, now shall they reap,” she promised."

The Dying of the Dragons—Rhaenyra Overthrown

"If Rhaenyra were intent on murder, surely it would have been the Dowager Queen Alicent flung down onto the spikes."

"When Dowager Queen Alicent was informed of her daughter’s passing, she rent her garments and pronounced a dire curse upon her rival."

"Both were on hand the next day to bear witness as Ser Perkin’s gangling squire Trystane mounted the Iron Throne. So too was the Queen Dowager, Alicent of House Hightower."

The Dying of the Dragons—The Short, Sad Reign of Aegon II

"And so the Clubfoot was dispatched across the river under a flag of truce, accompanied by Grand Maester Orwyle and the Dowager Queen Alicent."

"There Queen Alicent received the glad news that her grandaughter Jaehaera, the only surviving child of her son Aegon and daughter Helaena, had been delivered safely to Storm’s End by Ser Willis Fell of the Kingsguard. The Dowager Queen wept tears of joy. Betrayals and betrothals followed, until an accord was reached between Lord Borros, Lord Larys, and Queen Alicent, with Grand Maester Orwyle as witness."

"Queen Alicent agreed that her son King Aegon would make Lady Cassandra, Lord Borros’s eldest daughter, his new queen."

"“[Corlys Velaryon] is traitor thrice over,” Queen Alicent said. “Rhaenyra could never have taken King’s Landing but for him. His Grace my son will not have forgotten. I want him dead.”"

"...the golden dragon banner of King Aegon II raised in their stead. Queen Alicent herself emerged from the Red Keep to bid [Borros Baratheon] welcome, with Ser Perkin the Flea beside her."

"Queen Alicent proclaimed a curfew, making it unlawful to be on the city streets after dark."

"Behind the walls of the Red Keep, the Dowager Queen Alicent and Lord Larys Strong had offered the Sea Snake his freedom, a full pardon for his treasons, and a place on the king’s small council if he would bend his knee to Aegon II as his king and deliver them the swords and sails of Driftmark."

"Queen Alicent was outraged by Lord Velaryon’s “arrogance,” Munkun tells us, especially his demand that Queen Rhaenyra’s Aegon be named as heir to her own Aegon. She had suffered the loss of two of her three sons and her only daughter during the Dance, and could not bear the thought that any of her rival’s sons should live. Angrily, Her Grace reminded Lord Corlys that she had twice proposed terms of peace to Rhaenyra, only to have her overtures rejected with scorn. It fell to Lord Larys the Clubfoot to pour oil on the troubled waters, calming the queen with a quiet reminder of all they had discussed in Lord Baratheon’s tent, and persuading her to consent to the Sea Snake’s proposals. The next day Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, knelt before Queen Alicent as she sat upon the lower steps of the Iron Throne, as proxy for her son, and there pledged the king his loyalty and that of his house. Before the eyes of gods and men, the Queen Dowager granted him and his a royal pardon, and restored him to his old place on the small council, as admiral and master of ships."

"Urged on by his mother, the Queen Dowager Alicent, Aegon II was determined to exact vengeance upon those who had betrayed and deposed him."

"If the rebels could flaunt a dragon and the loyalists could not, Queen Alicent pointed out, smallfolk might see their foes as more legitimate."

"Queen Alicent had reluctantly agreed to the betrothal of her granddaughter to Rhaenyra’s son, but she had done so without the king’s consent. Aegon II had other ideas."

"When Queen Alicent demured, wondering aloud how Lord Corlys could possibly be won back after all that had been said that day, Lord Strong replied, “That task you may leave to me, Your Grace. His lordship will listen to me, I daresay.”"

"His mother entertained no such hope. “You fed [Aegon III's] mother to your dragon,” she reminded her son. “The boy saw it all.” The king turned to her desperately. “What would you have me do?” “You have hostages,” the Queen Dowager replied. “Cut off one of the boy’s ears and send it to Lord Tully. Warn them he will lose another part for every mile they advance.”"

"Queen Alicent was arrested on the serpentine steps as she made her way back to her chambers. Her captors wore the seahorse of House Velaryon upon their doublets, and though they slew the two men guarding her, they did no harm to the Dowager Queen herself, nor to her ladies. The Queen in Chains was chained again and taken to the dungeons, there to await the pleasure of the new king. By then the last of her sons was already dead."

Aftermath—The Hour of the Wolf

"Within the Red Keep, the Lads found the dead king’s body laid out upon a bier beneath the Iron Throne, with his mother, Queen Alicent, weeping beside it."

"The realm’s new rulers found themselves divided on the question of what to do with the Dowager Queen Alicent, but elsewise all seemed in accord, and good fellowship reigned…for the best part of a fortnight."

"...men placed wagers on how long the Clubfoot, the Sea Snake, the Flea, and the Dowager Queen would keep their heads."

"The men who had seized the Queen Dowager upon the serpentine steps had worn the seahorse badge of House Velaryon..."

"Queen Alicent’s captors had slain her guards and were thus condemned to death..."

Under the Regents—The Hooded Hand

"And the more observant made note of another absence. The Dowager Queen was nowhere to be seen, though as Jaehaera’s grandmother, Alicent Hightower ought to have been present."

"A more immediate problem was posed by the Dowager Queen, who refused to reconcile herself to the new king. The murder of the last of her sons had turned Alicent’s heart into a stone. None of the regents wished to see her put to death, some from compassion, others for fear that such an execution might rekindle the flames of war. Yet she could not be allowed to take part in the life of the court as before. She was too apt to rain down curses on the king, or snatch a dagger from some unwary guardsman. Alicent could not even be trusted in the company of the little queen; when last allowed to share a meal with Her Grace, she had told Jaehaera to cut her husband’s throat whilst he was sleeping, which set the child to screaming. Ser Tyland felt he had no choice but to confine the Queen Dowager to her own apartments in Maegor’s Holdfast; a gentle imprisonment, but imprisonment nonetheless."

"One death may have been a mercy. The Dowager Queen Alicent of House Hightower, second wife of King Viserys I and mother to his sons, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, and his daughter Helaena, died on the same night as Lord Westerling, after confessing her sins to her septa. She had outlived all of her children and spent the last year of her life confined to her apartments, with no company but her septa, the serving girls who brought her food, and the guards outside her door. Books were given her, and needles and thread, but her guards said Alicent spent more time weeping than reading or sewing. One day she ripped all her clothing into pieces. By the end of the year she had taken to talking to herself, and had come to have a deep aversion to the color green. In her last days the Queen Dowager seemed to become more lucid. “I want to see my sons again,” she told her septa, “and Helaena, my sweet girl, oh…and King Jaehaerys. I will read to him, as I did when I was little. He used to say I had a lovely voice.” (Strangely, in her final hours Queen Alicent spoke often of the Old King, but never of her husband, King Viserys.) The Stranger came for her on a rainy night, at the hour of the wolf."

[danyyytarggg]

YOU can continue to treat house of the dragon as canon and YOU can continue to get upset with HOTD!characters’ actions, take them literally, and judge their characters off of said actions. ME, i will be MINDFUL of the unspoken OOC tag that this particular fanfiction has and will therefore not take any of their actions as canon

[quiddling]

AEMOND MENTIONED‼️‼️‼️‼️

they dislike each other very muchly

[sweetestpopcorn]

the previous ask had me laughing and remembering the fact that the greens are constantly dwelling on the black while the blacks don’t spare them a thought!

aemond : thinking about murdering daemon

daemon : having hot, passionate s*x and being father of the year

alicent : thinking rhaenyra is plotting against her

rhaenyra : having hot, passionate s*x and being mother of the year

otto : thinking about how daemon is trying to harm him

daemon : making babies

paegon: getting angry about aegon and viserys

aegon and viserys : riding their dragons and living their lives

I mean hating Rhaenyra was literally Alicent and Criston's only hobbies. Even Aemond had other hobbies since apart from hating Rhaenyra he also had time to think about kissing her 🐱 (Fire and Blood, pg. 397)... ah wait, I am being unfair to Criston, actually he also had the hobby of thinking about what went on in Rhaenyra and Daemon's room 🤗 (Fire and Blood, pg. 396).

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

All NSFW warnings apply in future chapters.

Word Count ~ 3.5k+

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi ● vii ● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

vii ~ 'Lord of the Tides'

129 AC

VISENYA - DRAGONSTONE

The sky above was grey, as it always was upon Dragonstone. The air thick and cloying, the inescapable stench of salt, smoke and brimstone filled the lungs of all who dared cross upon its stormy threshold. It was always warm here, clammy - even when it rained.

I oft found solace, riding high over the plains of ashen volcanic rock. The sulphuric steam stinging my skin as I let my dragon take me high upon Dragonmount. There I let myself venture upon its edges, discarding my boots and feeling the jagged stone beneath my feet. I enjoy feeling how it cuts and presses into my skin, sometimes I leave bloodied and limping. Though it feels good, feels righteous to have my blood dried upon its rocks, ritualistic. Just as I claimed Silverwing, I shall claim this island as my own one day.

I watch as Silverwing scurries into the large cavern etched into the side of the mountain. She oft goes there, for that is why Vermithor can be found lazing. It is a strange sight, seeing two beasts which strike such fear into the hearts of men, so affectionate with each other. I too have found comfort in their embrace, often falling asleep aside the two beasts as a child, usually as they coiled. My father, Daemon would be the one to find me, to scoop me in his arms and return me to Dragonstone.

Vermithor had taken a liking to me, he was an aloof beast - distant. Yet it was my bond with Silverwing which softened his gaze upon me, allowing me to sit by them both under the torch light, reading. Silverwing had always been the most gentle of the elder dragons, tentative to my thoughts and whims. I needn't say many commands, for she already knows my desires. Many found it odd I had claimed her over Vermithor, thinking his temperament was more aligned with my own. In some ways, I wish I had. There was something terribly revealing about claiming such a docile dragon. Something vulnerable, as though it revealed my own heart to others without any need for confession.

This was my home, not King's Landing - city of piss and rotting teeth. Dragonstone was a place of magic; I can feel it simmering in the air and ground. Sense it when I place my palm on the rocks. That low humming of the hearth of Valyria, of the Targaryen's. Many find it to be a grim place, akin with Harrenhal - though mystified with blood magic instead of a curse.

But it is that which drives me to it, my heart doesn't fear it's darkness nor its danger. For I know within it, for those truly of the blood of the dragon - its darkness is merely there so that our fire may burn brightly. A cocoon of warmth. It is not like the emptied and sullen corpse of Harrenhal, no, Dragonstone is full - it is alive. So, it came as no shock to my mother that I had forfeited my claim to the throne, opting to rule Dragonstone instead and allow my brother, Jacaerys to be her heir.

The realm deserves a King of a kind and just nature; that is not me. My temper burns too hot, and I have no desire to be pulled as a puppet on a string. I have no taste for politics, nor can bear the burden of pleasing the faith. In that regard, I am much like my father, and he was not meant for the throne either.

Daemon, of course was outraged by this notion and doubled down, claiming my willingness to give up the throne proved I was fair enough to sit upon it. But I know that is not true, for if it were - my mother would have refused me. At first, of course she protested but came to see that my heart lies here, not in court. And I shall continue our line, where our House belongs and I shall raise my brothers Viserys, Aegon iii and any child I might have here - amidst the ash and warmth.

My mother has been generous in her patience of me, and my father overjoyed with the notion that I have not wed yet. They are letting me decide who is worthy, and I still have made no choice. Marriage is to be political yes, but I cannot bare marrying and laying with a man I feel little for. I wish to have what my mother and father have, but there is an unlikely chance it seems.

The most promising match's hail from House Stark and Blackwood. Though neither of which please me greatly. In truth, I had wished to marry as mother did, to a Targaryen, to have an ancestral wedding too. Though it seems the God's did not write such a thing within my fate. So, in turn, I wait. I wait to see just where this path of what has felt like endless girlhood shall end. I am but eight and ten, still no marriage or children to speak - some have suggested that I shall take after my great Aunt Saera Targaryen. In truth such a life sounds rather pleasing; fucking lovers then taking off to Lys, pretending to be a maiden to exploit patrons of pleasure houses. Only difference being I would not have to pretend at first.

As I made my way across the stones, I noted the sky dimming slowly, twas time I return home. Even for a Targaryen, nights on Dragonmount can be treacherous. It was no surprise to me that upon my return, more news of dramatics at King's Landing filled my ears. Luke's legitimacy was being called into question as heir to Driftmark by Vaemond Velaryon, on account of Lord Corlys' sudden illness. Of course, we were to be dragged to the capital for his trial. Despite the matter being settled already, it seemed those sniveling Hightower’s were to reconsider claims that had already been declared by King Viserys, though it was no surprise either to hear how my grandsire had deteriorated in years passing. A part of me longed to visit from time to time, though I knew why mother had to leave. Why it was impossible to stay amongst those dens of vipers.

I sat in Lucerys room, my hand entwined with his as he sat upon his bed. The both of us watching as Jace paced back and forth, ranting and muttering.

"Tis an outrage... how can Grandsire let this stand!" Jace paused and turned to us, his face curdled.

"I... do not know." I say softly, contemplating his words.

Jace's face hardens, he scoffs and turns to where Lucerys and I both sit. His finger pointed directly at me," We should not have spent such time away from King's Landing. Mother ought to have trusted us to face them!"

"She has been rather busy brother, rearing us. Tis not her job to entertain the Hightower’s wicked lies and let us spend our lives defending ourselves against them." I can only shake my head at my younger brother's fierce words. For I know he is brave and true, at times Jace can be too stern for his own good.

Jace purses his lips and turns to look upon the view of the bay. I can tell he has no argument against me, so I smile softly and turn my attention to my other brother, who nestles himself upon my shoulder.

"They aren’t lies though... are they?  Even the Velaryon’s think it so. " The silence is broken as Luke's soft voice fills his chamber. His head rising from my shoulder as Jace turns once more.

“Ser Vaemond does not speak for the Sea Snake, brother…” I said, gently brushing his dark hair from his eye.

“But he speaks the opinion many seem to share.” Luke mutters lowly.

 I turn my head to Jace, and both our gazes interlock as we struggle to confirm what our younger brother already knows. The silence continues, and then, Jace steps forward, his tone proud and measured.

"It matters not what they say. The only relevant truth is the fact we are Targaryen's and that Grandsire, and the Sea Snake supports yours and all our claims." Jace beckons, giving Luke a small smile. We both exchange another look before I watch as Jace turns, making his way towards the window once more.

In the corner of my eye, I can see how Luke’s face curdles with discomfort, I turn my head and give him a gentle nod, “You worry too much. All will be well in time.”

“There is much to worry about. I… I do not feel I am right to rule Driftmark, mayhap they are right to challenge me. I know nothing of commanding a fleet.” His dark eyes lower themselves to the ground, Lucerys frowns softly and I can’t help but pull his chin up so that he might look into my eyes once more.

“What do any of us know of our future duties, brother? What does Jace know about protecting the realm, or I about ruling Dragonstone? That is for us to uncover in time. Fuck the treacherous webs our enemies spin, they have their own wants… desires that tempt them. We need not listen, for once we sit upon our thrones their voices shall be too quiet to even hear.” As I let go of his chin, I found the excitement in my tone again. Lucerys face shifts to chuckle quietly and I do the same, he nods giving me a soft glare before rising to his feet to speak with Jace.

I take a moment to gaze upon my two brothers, to see them now growing into men… when it felt like only a moment ago they were mere boys before me. To see how their temperaments became more distinct by the day, gave me a sense of relief for our futures. They were good and brave, it seemed such were rare traits in times such as these. Their dark hair gleamed bronze in the sunlight for a moment, and I was filled with a warmth, a love that I couldn’t quite explain. Though yes, they were my mother’s sons – at times it felt like they were just as much my baby’s as they were hers. How I had held each one upon their birth and ran my fingers across their fat cheeks when they were babes. How, now as they grew into men it was the hard bone of their jaws my fingers would feel beneath them. Such sentiments made my stomach coil with a grief for our youth, for the innocence I felt was being chipped away at by the day. Yet now, seeing them before me, they still appear as the small boys I once held so close, and I knew it would not be very long until I had to let them go.  

●

The trip to King’s Landing was but a short one on dragonback and the Princess Visenya indeed watched her earthly surroundings go from smoky wonders of Dragonstone to the dust filled haze of the capital. She practically felt her stomach reel from the mere thought of the familiar stench, and after leaving Silverwing in the Dragonpits it came as a surprise to all her family that upon their arrival to the Red Keep, none from their own House were there to greet them. Only Lord Caswell appeared before Princess Rhaenyra, approaching her with an understanding gaze. Of course, Alicent and her peculiar spawn would not show the decency of kin, for they weren’t. Not truly. Perhaps by blood, but it seemed that made matters worse given the context of the Blacks return. Still, Visenya thought, it had been six years since last they saw the rest of their family. Six years since the night on Driftmark which led to an even greater rift… six years since he had lost his-

“Sister!” Jacaerys snapped his finger before her face, snickering at the dazed Princess.

Visenya looked up from her entranced gaze, realising she had been staring at the ground below, she looked around to see the bustling of carriages and servants around her. The Princess shifted to her two half-brothers, Jace and Luke standing before her. The glimmer of Rhaenyra and Daemon’s silver hair disappearing into the darkness as they made their way into the keep.

“Mother and Daemon are to have an audience with Alicent, and it seems none of the Hightower’s have made time in their day to greet us. We are on our own.” Jace scoffed, folding his arms as he cocked his head.

Visenya raised her brow, nodding as she began to walk, “Tis a blessing really. I do not wish to ruin such a beautiful day with the look of their sullen faces.” Her head turned as Jace and Luke followed alongside her.

“They did all seem rather grey didn’t they?” Jace jested, chuckling to himself.

The three young Targaryen’s continued forth, making their way up the stairs from the middle bailey and into the halls of the Keep. Visenya spoke once more.

“I’d imagine all the years of conspiring and prayer has meant for little time in the sun. They likely appear as corpses now.” The Princess hollowed her cheeks as she gave a wink to Luke, winning a small giggle from him.

Once they had reached Maegor’s Holdfast, the siblings had branched off, returning to settle in to their childhood chambers. As Visenya reached hers a wave of bitter nostalgia washed over her, she let her fingers glide upon the stone walls observing how it had been kept so similar yet… different to how she had left it. Naturally, she had taken her belongings with her but the furniture and the deep crimson bedding. Yes, it had been left just as it was. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the freshly lit candles, the small dish of water and soap which sat in a silver tray upon her vanity, a small rag draping over the chair. Visenya smiled, knowing the servants had remembered such preferences of hers. Near her bed, sat the small trunk of the few belongings she’d brought from Dragonstone. Upon the mattress itself, lay the scarlet gown and matching slippers.

She sat upon her bed, taking in the smell of damp and mildew. The air around her was quite cold, though a fire crackled. It was likely her chambers had not been used since her departure, from the smell of it – it seemed to not have been cleaned very often either. She settled in, and soon found herself sitting at her old vanity. Admiring how she had grown, how the last time she gazed into this mirror she was but a girl.

The princess had indeed grown vigorously as the years passed. Much like her parents it seemed she had inherited both the mind and body of a dragonrider. Imposing, her body had become – not only to others but to herself. Her form Junoesque, unyielding in its femininity as her hips and breasts were among the first thing to develop suddenly. It seemed almost overnight she had no longer fit into the clothing she once freely adorned, her body changing, aching even. The first time she had gotten her moonblood felt like a life sentence for Visenya, as no more did she feel the same kind of unawareness of her body. The princess had felt like she was now very much a prisoner to her newly found womanhood, she seldom understood why such changes were needed. Why every moon her belly would swell, growing heavy and coil with pain, how she would have to crawl to her mother’s quarters and lay by her side simply to reassure such things were normal. Though, as the years had gone by, she adjusted to such feeling, relished that the pain she felt at times was proof of her fortitude. That no man could endure such sufferance so frequently.

Visenya marveled at her sun-kissed skin, the way her silver hair gleamed now that it had grown even longer than her mothers. She kept it loose, unbound; for she relished in letting her body grow as it pleased, there was no use in taming herself; her hair included. Indeed, did the Princess enjoy herself – for no matter how beautiful a man thought her to be, it was herself which she wished to appease the most. The Princess was strict regarding her standards, unwavering that she would be dressed in the finest gowns, and smell of the richest scents the realm had to offer. Whether it was silk from Dorne or perfumed oil from Lys – she simply refused to lead a life without such beauty within it. Some may think it shallow or indulgent, but Visenya knew it was merely her lust for life which drove her towards such luxuries. She wished to experience everything, wished for a life of sensuality and passion. There was no grey cloud in her sky that was without a silver lining, for she would not accept much less than satisfaction. After all, there was so much suffering in the realm, so much ugliness and brutality. She owed it to every poor soul who died so terribly, to live life as it ought to be lived. Indulging and embracing pleasure and beauty in every way, for so few had the opportunity to.

Such mentality, did however, lead her at times to indulge in the filtrations of men and despite Visenya’s bravado, she was gentle at heart - oft stringing men along rather than shatter their dreams of winning her favor. Such is exactly what her father had told her worried him before their arrival to King’s Landing. He spoke of how difficult it was stopping his inclinations to assault the few men he might find leering at her at Dragonstone. King’s Landing, however, was a different beast and Prince Daemon had no doubt he would be combatting an endless sea of men who might have more lecherous ideas. He had spoken sternly about keeping to herself, not drawing attention to herself beyond what would already be given. That if any man were to approach her, she would deny him.

The Princess of course, found her father’s worry amusing, the few times she had entertained men had only ever ended up with innocent mischief being made, and at times drunken affections… which were oft less innocent in nature.  But she was no fool as to lose her virtue before marriage, for she knew how such a thing impacted her mother and she had promised herself that her virtue was a pleasure in itself. That there is beauty in saving herself for the truest, purest of loves, as there is beauty in indulging in fleshly pleasure. Visenya was positive no man would attempt to accost her in such a manner, for if they did they would face the wrath of her mother and of course the looming threat of her rumoured father, Prince Daemon.

As she prepared herself to leave, she peeled the thick, black riding leathers from her frame, cringing at the particular scent of sweat and dragon that ruminated from them.  Visenya then doused the rag in the bowl of water, using the soap to scrub at any and all places which eluded to such a scent. Soon, she had changed her undergarments, and drew the scarlet shaded gown over her frame; it’s sleeves long and elaborate, intwining string which laced across her structured shoulders. Visenya then pulled a small vile of perfumed oil, from her trunk, dabbing it upon her skin and threading it through her hair. The contents of which filled the room with the smell of heady jasmine and musk, a recent gift from a nobleman in Lys.

As she left her chamber, she was accosted by Jace and Luke. Who swiftly grabbed her wrist pulling her along the corridors as they babbled about going back to the middle bailey to re visit where they trained as children.

 Once they reached those fateful steps, they let go and waved for her to join them in a busy yard below..

“Come. You can watch.” Jace beckoned, Luke stopping upon the steps to look up towards her.

Visenya shook her head, leaning against stone banister upon the mezzanine which overlooked the commotion below. The Princess cocked her head to the side, “I’ve just changed… I have little intention of getting myself filthy once more.”

“Of course…” Jacaerys shook his head, rolling his eyes as he let out an amused scoff, “Suit yourself then.”

With that, the two boys trotted down the steps, and Visenya looked upon the bustling yard below.  She watched with a hearty smile as her brothers made their way towards the wooden weaponry stand, Jace playfully swinging one of the swords at Lucerys. However, she noted the few people who glared at her brothers and the whispering that occurred in their presence. A slight anger rose in her belly, do these fat old Lord’s and Lady’s have little else to do but gossip?

She waited until a pair had noticed Visenya’s scowling from above, and smiled smugly when swiftly they turned their heads and went about their business. A small gathering had distracted the Princess, as it seemed there to be an on going sparring session in the far corner of the yard. The whipping of long silver hair catching her attention, and she noticed how her brothers had soon caught wind of the action, joining the crowd below.

The silver haired figure was lithe with lean thew and a tall frame all tightly contained in black leathers. He swiftly jostled the sword in his hand with a fine precision, but her eyes caught a familiar sight, that it was Ser Criston whom the figure dueled against. A cunt, though he may be, but a talented fighter indeed.

Criston swung his Morningstar, shattering the figure’s shield. He’s done for. Visenya thought. However, she raised her brow in intrigue as the figure discarded his shield with fierce aggression and then began striking. Perhaps not. She thought again, impressed by his fortitude. One after the other, a flash of steel and light locks before he ducked and turned – it was then when she felt her heart practically fall into her chest. The figures face sharp and aquiline, his skin pale… too pale. That familiar grey.

It was the black eye patch which was tightly fastened over his right eye which gave it away.

Aemond.

He continued on, fighting harshly and fiercely against Cole before finally, winning the duel. Visenya looked at her brothers below, hearing Aemond’s voice mutter something to them both as he had finally acknowledged the two young Princes’. Though something had told her, Aemond was well aware of their presence. Jace looked up at Visenya pleadingly, and it came as no surprise then when she looked back, she noticed Aemond’s gaze follow her brothers upwards.

For what could have only had been a second, they clocked each other. The Princess felt her eyes widen, shock, fear, anger, intrguie, digust; any and all emotion flooding through her in those fateful seconds. He noticed her, he took her in. He knew it was her. She tussled her hair back and looked away, pretending as though she hadn't recognized him.

Aemond narrowed his eye upon the Princess, scanning her briefly. He had only gazed upon her for a second, he tilted his head as if he was contemplating something before his attention was drawn to the incoming drawing of the heavy gates.

Visenya steadied her breath and watched as the gates opened with a heavy moan. If only to make matters worse, the arriving party was another headache in itself... Vaemond Velaryon.

○viii○

[drakaripykiros130ac]

The main difference between the great Rogue Prince and the One-Eye:

Caraxes was Daemon’s accessory.

Aemond was Vhagar’s accessory.

[thesilverlady]

Let's be honest it's not cus Aegon.. Aemond would be 100% toxic with anybody and everybody lmao

Aemond is significantly way worse but I don't think Aegon is exactly roses.

Tbh i see many ships whether canon or crackships from f&b to be "toxic". The debate is how much?

Of course by toxic/unhealthy I don't mean to imply to not ship them. Hell, I'm drawn to darker dynamics myself. But I won't lie and pretend they're the stereotypical malewife x girlboss that many fandoms seem love putting their favs in

[novembermorgon]

never posted this one on here . harrenhal aemond for @aemondsa !

[alvsanne]

"I want to see my sons again, and Helaena, my sweet girl..."