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jonathansthickthighs · 6 months

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My Sweetest Heart 2: Yandere! Fushiguro Toji x Reader

Description: You have a one night stand with Toji and now he won’t leave you alone.

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

Part 4 here

Part 5 here

Trigger Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, female reader, AFAB reader, toxic behavior, stalking, desperate toji, no smut this chapter, implied smut, alternative universe (no curses), age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, toji is in his mid 30’s)

A/N: im so overwhelmed by the amount of notes on my first post, tysm :’). This is a soft, slow chapter. Steamy smut next chapter 🥵

Not edited!

It had been a week.

Disconsolateness spread through Toji’s chest like a wildfire, the wretched feeling not leaving his soul since that damned night. But was it really damned? Toji dreamt of that night from the moment he set his gaze on you, but why. Why did you have to behave like he was nothing to you? He was certain no man would ever make you experience the ecstasy he made you feel, the pleasurable sensations you felt only he could provide. Yet, you haven’t answered a single one of his texts. The extraneous feelings were clouding his mind, making his thinking unclear.

The things you do to him.

If you could squeeze your way into Toji’s mind, you would be able to see the profoundness of his love for you, but he wasn’t sure how long he could let you explore his mind before you fell into an deep abysm of pure darkness. He would never allow that darkness to collide with the love he held for you. He would never in his life time hurt you in any way, nevertheless he would not hesitate to hurt —kill— any man who did as much as lay his eyes on you. You were his one and only treasure and he was never one for sharing.

Would it seem too desperate to call you? He already refrained himself from texting you more than twice a day, but the way you were ignoring him was making the hole his chest feel larger with each painful minute that passed from the lack of notice from you. He spent the last seven days watching you from afar, which was nothing new to him, but he felt the progress he made with you had dissipated. Why did you have to behave like he was nothing to you?

You were right across the street from him.

You were at a local café, sipping on some iced coffee. He knew you lied to him when you told him you didn’t drink coffee; he had watched you enter and leave the place countless times. Thus it was another reason why he felt hurt by you. He was aware of how despicable he was, nevertheless that’s not how he wanted you to perceive him. That’s why when you started making all those excuses, he felt like you were seeing right through him, like you could see how bad of a person he truly was. In the labyrinth of his soul, he felt an inexorable need to reshape your gaze upon him, the same way he would mold clay under the weight of his hefty fingers. Even if the whole world saw him as scum, he harbored a silent hope to be seen through a lens untainted by judgment by you.

Each beat of his heart was chanting a plea for you to fill the void within. He wanted to demonstrate he had a vulnerable tenderness reserved only for you.

He observed you chatting vigorously with your friends —the same ones from that night. He wondered if you told them about him. Would you go into detail about everything he did to you? Would you start getting flashbacks from all the things he did to you? He could envision the supple flesh of your thighs rubbing together, feeling your underwear dampen from the memories of him mounting you, making you squirm under him. Toji felt himself harden in his pants at the picture of you getting all hot and bothered because of him. A recollection of memories of your enchanting body flooded his mind each passing day, his groin aching with a ceaseless desire to be engulfed by your tight, warm cavern once more. He needed you more than he ever needed anything in his entire miserable life.

He decided the only way he could reclaim your attention was in the flesh, so before he could form another thought about it, his large figure plotted his course toward the café with gumption.

He strode into the aesthetically pleasing looking place, with practiced nonchalance, feigning ignorance of your presence as he made his way to the counter to order some simple black coffee. Once he paid for the overpriced coffee, he turned straight to the table you and your friends were occupying. You were laughing beautifully at something silly your friend had said and in an instant, you locked eyes with Toji.

A smirk tugged the corners of his scarred lips. He could tell you were experiencing a sense of inner turmoil running through you. Your friends noticed your shift in mood, their gazes pivoting towards the source of your abrupt change in demeanor. When they noticed what you were looking, they started giggling teasingly questioning if that was “the hottie you banged the other night” quite loudly. It was safe to say your friend weren’t ones for being subtle.

On the other hand, Toji’s chest swelled with pride upon learning that you did, in fact, tell, your friends about him. He was starting to believe that approaching you in the presence of your friends had been a nothing short of brilliant. He was well aware of his talents and it was abundantly clear that the most conspicuous one was his charm with women. He was going to win over your friends so they could influence you into giving him a chance, knowing all too well the powerful sway that a woman’s friends held over her decisions —especially when it comes to men. He was going to use your friends to his advantage with unyielding determination.

Toji could see you visibly tense up as he made his way to your table.

As soon as he was standing in front of you, your named rolled out of his mouth almost seductively, the smirk never leaving his perfectly sculpted face. “I hope I’m not intruding, wasn’t expecting running into ya here. It’s so great to see you!” He exclaimed without forgetting to greet your friends, forging politeness. He couldn’t give two fucks about your friends, but in order to execute his plan it had to be done.

Your lips curved upwards, a hesitant smile forming on your face. “Toji, wow! It’s good to see you too.” You rose from your seat awkwardly extending your arms in a friendly embrace. He instantly enfolded you into the embrace of his strong arms, not denying himself from indulging himself to the irresistible urge to inhale the delicious scent of your hair. Gods, if only he could live in your embrace forever. You were wearing a yellow summer dress that hugged your frame exquisitely. Holding you so close, taking in your scent, plus this little piece you were wearing had him almost coming in his pants. To make things even better for his perverted self, he was certain, by looking at your cheeks flushing with a deep hue of scarlet, that you had felt his hard on press against you while you were being embosomed by him.

Your friends gaze bore into at you expectantly as you jumped momentarily forgetting their presence. With a quick apologetic smile you hastened to introduced them. “Oh! Toji, these are my friends.” You told Toji each of their names and he nodded attentively, inwardly acknowledging that he was going to forget their names instantly. “It’s a pleasure. With all due respect, I have to say this has to be the most good looking friend group I’ve seen, quite frankly.” He playfully danced on the edge of flirtation, his words laced with a charm that clouded the insincerity of his words. And of course, your friends giggled gullibly, already smitten by the Adonis standing in front of them.

“No wonder miss ma’am here went for you. Not only are you a sight for sore eyes, you’re also good with your mouth!” Your friend teased, the rest of them agreeing with her making your cheeks deepen into a brighter shade of crimson, the flush of embarrassment spreading like fire across your delicate face. Toji knew what you were thinking. You knew exactly how good he was with his mouth, having experienced the onslaught of his fierce tongue in your cunt.

“Ah, you girls flatter me. And trust me, your pretty friend here is well aware of what this mouth is capable of.” He joked, eliciting peals of laughter from your friends.

“Girl, he got a sense of humor too? Why haven’t you married him yet?” Your other friend chimed in. In response, you laughed with a hint of discomfort, failing to understand how your friends couldn’t feel the tense atmosphere that surrounded you. You had recounted to your friends how he had been texting you nonstop for the past week, collectively agreeing to label him as nothing short of a creep. Yet, as they now met him face to face their skepticism suddenly melts away and they transform into Toji advocates? You didn’t understand. “Why don’t you sit with us, Toji? Let us get to know you a little!”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Toji chuckled, planting himself in the chair right next to yours, a little too close for your liking. He turned to you, a wide grin lighting up his features, meanwhile you settled into your seat with a frozen expression, like that of a deer in headlights. The morning after your night with him lingered in your mind, haunted by the memory of his hand grabbing your hair. Though he didn’t harm you, a sense of unease lingered, leaving you unable to shake the feeling of dread. You thought you’d never see him again, so running into him here took you by surprise.

As your other friends interrogated Toji, your best friend seized your arm, pulling you aside so she could talk to you closely. “Oh my God! You never mentioned how nice he is! Why have you been ignoring him this whole time, you bitch!” She voice came out in a furious whisper.

“I’ve told you before, I’m not looking to get into relationship at the moment and he’s so persistent. I just don’t want to lead him on.” You replied feeling annoyed at her abrupt change in demeanor. “The best men always come when you least expect them. I think you should give him a chance! Just go on one date with him and see how it goes from there on.” She insisted, her tone pleading. You were starting to feel guilty for avoiding him. Could your best friend be onto something? One date wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“Fine, but only one.”

Your best friend erupted in excitement at your agreement and sprung from her seat.

“Well girls, remember that thing we had to do? We gotta dash.” Confusion clouded the faces of your friends, prompting your best friend to shoot signals with her expressions, discreetly urging them to leave you alone with Toji. “W-wait, wha—“ Stammering in puzzlement, you attempted to grasp the situation. Your friends caught onto the unspoken cue and swiftly began gathering their belongings preparing to leave you two alone.

“Yeah, that’s right. We have plans… without you.” One of them giggled teasingly as they hurried out of the café.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

You couldn’t believe the scene unfolding before you. You made eye contact with Toji and he chuckled at your bewildered expression. “Quite the friends you’ve got.” He remarked casually, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking from excitement at being alone with you at last. He was fighting hard to conceal the thrill that vibrated beneath his skin.

You let out nervous laugh in agreement and joked, “Right. Making plans without me all the sudden.”

An awkward silence settled between you for a moment before you decided to break it, “Toji, about the texts—“

Toji interjected quickly, “Oh, don’t worry about that, sweetheart. I understand if things have been hectic lately. I’m just glad you’re okay. No pressure at all. Although, I do hope we can talk once in a while, I would like to get to know you more.” Toji mastered the art of concealing the ache of your week long indifference, cloaking his wounded heart with a facade of nonchalance. Determined to shield you from the depths of his longing, he masked his feelings, refusing to unveil his yearning for your attention.

You smiled genuinely at him for the first time since he got here. “I wouldn’t mind that at all. But, I would like to clarify that I’m not looking for a relationship right now. If we could keep things casual, I would really appreciate it.”

Toji felt a twitch in his eye; you were going to make things difficult for him. “I get it, sweetheart. No compromise.” For now.

You grinned at his acceptance and suggested, “You mentioned a mean ramen place in your texts. How about we go there now?” The realization that you were asking him on a date sent a wave of anticipation through him. Getting to talk and share his time with you again was the only thing he had been looking forward to the whole week. He let his gaze linger on your soft features, you were undeniably beautiful. He was determined to make your heart his, he knew he had to step up his game.

“I would love to, sweetheart.” Toji replied eagerly, excitement coursing through his veins. Temptingly, he added, “We could also go watch a movie at my place afterward, if you’re up for it.” You squeezed your thighs together, considering the myriad possibilities that could unfold once you two were alone at his place.

“Sure.”

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nothingbutsweetwords · 2 months

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ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ…"

Word count: 6,800.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

DISTANCE — 9. Her.

At first, her days had been monotonous and boring. She rarely left her room, and even less so the castle. Immersed in a life that contrasted drastically with the ceaseless hustle and bustle of the former.

There, far from King's Landing, she found herself yearning for the life she had left behind. Closed off to life in Dragonstone, which was simpler, slower, and she could not find solace in it. She missed the Red Keep, which, although no longer felt like home, was at least familiar. The constant hum of activity and the presence of people she once took for granted seemed like a distant dream.

But most of all, she missed him. The void left by his absence was palpable, a constant ache that never quite went away. His absence haunted her thoughts, making the already stark contrast between her past and present even more pronounced. The memory of him was a specter that lingered at the edges of her mind, making the solitude of Dragonstone feel even more isolating.

She found refuge only in the company of her mother, her lady-in-waiting, and her brothers. Joffrey, still too young to ride his dragon, provided a source of innocent joy. Luke and Jace, when they weren’t engrossed in training or flying, shared special moments with her that briefly alleviated her loneliness.

She couldn't help but feel envious of how easily her brothers seemed to have adapted. She acknowledged that her difficulty was purely her own fault; she couldn't completely let go of her previous life. She deeply longed for her past, melancholic.

Her memories were vivid with the bustle of the city and the castle coming to life, the constant coming and going of servants and guards, the plush softness of her mattress, the warmness of his chest, the distant chimes of the Grand Sept’s bells, the depth of his gaze, and the calm sea, always present, gently caressing the bay and framing the view from her window, a soothing backdrop to her daily life.

Despite the dangers and politics that filled every corner, for her, King's Landing was synonymous with belonging and security; it was all she knew.

The transition to Dragonstone was jarring, an abrupt shift that left her reeling. The moment she set foot on the island, she was struck by its untamed beauty and raw, almost menacing energy. The rugged cliffs, the relentless waves crashing against the shore, and the brooding sky all seemed to echo a wildness she found unsettling and violent.

She allowed herself to explore, tentatively at first, then with growing curiosity. She marveled at the sea, how it changed hues under the shifting light—cleaner, deeper, more vibrant than the waters of Blackwater Bay. The night sky, free from the haze of city lights, seemed brighter. The nights, though lonelier, were filled with peace and reflection.

The energies of her ancestors seemed to throb in the draconic sculpted walls, as if the stones themselves narrated the history of her forebears. Every dark corridor, every imposing tower, every silent room vibrated with the presence of those who had walked there before her. In the library, filled with knowledge and more books than she had ever seen, words were inscribed on ancient scrolls and tomes, preserving tales of bygone eras. The cliffs that bordered the island and the smoking Dragonmont were full of arcane mysteries, revealing forgotten feats and silent tragedies. The caves, home to legendary dragons, were sanctuaries of life, brimming with a raw and primordial energy. The entire castle emanated a glorious force and the island seemed to hum with a magnificent power, a testament to the grandeur and might of her ancestry.

The connection she felt with the place deepened, and as she accepted this, a newfound peace washed over her. King's Landing would always hold a piece of her heart, but Dragonstone had claimed her spirit, her soul, and her unwavering loyalty.

She began to understand that it wasn't merely a place of exile or a temporary stop, but her true home. It was a living bond with her real identity, and each time she thought of her previous life, the memory faded, becoming less significant.

Her initial apprehension transformed into a resounding devotion, turning Dragonstone into the most cherished landscape she had ever known.

Soon, Daemon's visits became more frequent, and no one was surprised when they witnessed the Valyrian wedding. The ceremony was nothing short of magnificent, with dragon banners fluttering in the wind and ancient rites performed under the watchful eyes of the gods.

When both families united, it only brought more joy and harmony. She already loved her family deeply, but the female presence of Baela and Rhaena was something she profoundly thanked.

However, there was another emotion that had slowly evolved within her, refusing to fully resolve. While she may have stopped yearning for King's Landing, there remained someone there she could not forget. This lingering longing was a shadow in her heart, an echo of the past that refused to fade completely, keeping a part of her spirit tethered to the city she had left behind.

At first, she was engulfed in confusion, questioning if, that fateful night, perhaps, she had overstepped boundaries—if she had misinterpreted his silent signals and misunderstood his whispered words.

Then came a deep, shadowy sadness. The day she departed, she had not only lost her father and the place where she grew up, but also her closest and dearest friend. It felt as if she had left behind a piece of her soul along with her childhood.

In the wake of this sorrow, an all-consuming anger took hold. She had sacrificed so much, standing steadfastly by his side through his darkest hours, and yet, a simple visit in the wake of her father’s death felt like the least acknowledgment she deserved in return. The injustice of it all ignited a flame within her.

Every fiber of her being ached for a reunion with him, even as she dreaded the prospect of facing him again. Her dreams were haunted by visions of him riding Vhagar, soaring through the skies in search of her. She imagined letters arriving, responses to her heartfelt missives, yet such never came, and those dreams remained unfulfilled.

With the impending journey, as the anniversary of the King's coronation and his nameday approached, the inevitable reunion loomed on the horizon. It promised a family gathering that, though eagerly anticipated, also filled her with profound fear.

Since moving to the island, her mother had constantly spoken of one particular thing. "She's restless," she would remark with a knowing glance, "because of you."

The islanders had told her mother: “She hasn’t been like this in years, not since she lost her rider.” At first, she paid little attention, not wanting to get her hopes up, attributing the rumors to local superstitions. But soon, she began to notice the signs.

Every morning upon waking, she would see her flying near her window, watching her with inquisitive eyes, as if trying to understand who this new inhabitant of the island was, attempting to discern the nature of her presence.

During her training sessions on the beach, she often felt a sudden, cool shadow sweep across her, and when she looked up, there she was, her powerful wings creating gusts that made her hair dance. Often accompanied by Vermithor, who kept watch from above but never descended.

At first, the proximity unnerved her, but over time, it became comforting, even familiar. There was something in those ancient eyes that awakened a sense of recognition, something she couldn’t explain.

One afternoon, after an intense training session with her brothers and and with her and Jace's seventeenth nameday celebration on the horizon, she found herself on the coast, basking in the splendor of the landscape.

The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the island in a warm, golden glow, a sharp difference to the usual gloomy days.

That day, something within her roared with the same power that emanated from the creature. She felt an unspoken connection, a deep, primal awareness that the dragon was near, resonating through her very core.

As she stood by, her senses were suddenly alive with anticipation. She appeared, skimming so close to the water that the sea’s mist kissed her face, as though conveying a message from fate itself.

Her heart raced as she watched her turn in the air and come back, her wings slicing through the clouds. The dragon turned her head towards her, letting out a soft roar, almost like an invitation.

Without a second thought, she began to follow, feeling her steps guided by a higher force.

The dragon flew at a deliberate pace, allowing her to keep up before tucking its wings and disappearing into a cavern. She climbed the slopes of Dragonmont. The path was treacherous, with loose stones and narrow ledges. Fortunately, she wasn’t wearing a dress, making her ascent easier.

Anticipation and nervousness filled her. The tales resonated in her mind, and although she wasn’t sure how to proceed, an inner voice urged her to keep moving forward.

Reaching the mouth of the cave, she paused for a moment, catching her breath and taking in the view behind her. The island lay sprawled out beneath her, the setting sun casting long shadows and turning the sea into a shimmering expanse of molten gold. She turned back to the cave, the entrance dark and foreboding, yet filled with an irresistible allure.

Gathering her courage, she stepped into the dimness. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of earth and the faint, sulfurous hint of the volcano.

It was vaguely illuminated by the sunlight filtering through cracks in the ceiling, casting a beautiful dance of shadows on the walls.

Suddenly, she saw her. Lying on a bed of rocks and moss, silver scales glimmered like scattered stardust. A majestic being of contained strength. Her eyes, a deep blue, resembling two flawless sapphires, locked onto her with intense scrutiny. Upon sensing her presence, she greeted her arrival with a low rumble.

It was a truly imposing and beautiful sight. Her neck was long, and her size colossal. With caution and respect, she approached, mesmerized.

She kept her hands visible, her movements slow, and her breaths gentle, hoping that she could sense the sincerity of her heart and the absence of fear. The dragon lifted her head, observing her with a calm yet watchful curiosity.

The moment felt eternal, a breath of time where they studied each other. She continued to close the distance and slowly extended her arm. “Māzīs” she whispered softly, the word carrying her hopes and intentions.

Silverwing approached, her movements both graceful and powerful, took a step forward, and after a few seconds, lowered her enormous head, aligning it with the extended hand. She raised it further, and when she finally touched her, she felt a connection, an invisible bond that seemed to pull her heart towards the being. Silverwing created a magical aura around both.

She knew, with firm certainty, that this was her destiny.

A warm glow enveloped them, and Silverwing emitted a low, guttural sound, a harmonious mix of purring and roaring. A shiver of recognition and wonder coursed through her as she realized that this moment was far greater than her own.

As her hands traced her warm body, she began to whisper: “Nyke kivio naejot rigle ao.” The dragon closed her eyes, enjoying her touch and voice. A bond of trust and understanding began to form and she felt a wave of emotions, primarily a sense of belonging.

With a huge smile on her face, she walked slowly around her, maintaining the contact, caressing her sides with gratitude and reverence. The scales gleamed, reflecting the filtered sunlight. At that moment, she felt that not even the moon could rival the dragon’s ethereal beauty.

Silverwing lowered herself, pressing her chest against the cavern floor, creating a natural platform for her to mount. With a sense of mutual trust and understanding, she accepted the silent invitation. Using the aid of the extended wing, she carefully climbed onto her back, feeling the powerful muscles beneath her and the unwavering strength of her new companion.

It was a bit challenging, as there was no saddle after so many years without a rider. With her legs spread on either side of her body, she stroked her back and grasped the horns that adorned her neck, securing her position.

“Sōvēs, Gēliotīkun” she said, the words carrying a blend of awe and command

The dragon responded with a soft grunt of assent, her wings slowly unfolding like enormous sails ready to catch the wind. They were a marvel in themselves, of impressive span, extending beyond what her eyes could grasp, with silver membranes shimmering with blue flecks at the slightest movement.

The cavern filled with the sound of wings beating and a powerful creaking beneath them, resonating like a gentle thunder. She held on tightly, feeling a tingle of anticipation.

With a sublime thrust, Silverwing flew out of the entrance and soared into the open sky.

The wind whipped against her face, but rather than being bothersome, it felt like a liberating caress. The horizon stretched before them in endless splendor. She let the adrenaline and exhilaration flood her veins.

From the heights, Dragonstone looked even more magnificent, all merging into a visual symphony that took her breath away. She felt part of something much larger than herself, and as they flew, every fear and doubt seemed to evaporate.

They left everything far behind. She leaned forward, feeling the cool breeze caress her face and play with her hair, undoing her braids and freeing her curls while she held tightly.

“Aderī!” she shouted.

They climbed even higher and faster, passing through the clouds. And there, at the boundary between land and sky, the dragon roared with a joy and power that reverberated in the heavens like an echo of her own cries of happiness.

It was a sound of triumph and unity, an announcement to the world that they were now an unstoppable force.

As she adjusted to the rhythm of flight, she allowed the tension in her hands to relax, letting the moment envelop her completely.

The feeling of freedom was indescribable, as if she had been released from the chains of the earthly world to explore the celestial realms.

Silverwing soared with the regal grace of a sovereign over her domain, her wings beating with a powerful and confident rhythm that spoke of absolute mastery and majesty.

She descended gently towards the coast, giving her time to steady herself. Then she flew so close to the water that she could feel the mist on her face and fill her lungs with fresh, salty air. The waves crashed against the rocks, sending bright splashes in all directions, just as they had whenever she had seen them before.

They circled around the castle, their shadows casting over the walls and towers. The guards and residents of the castle looked up in awe, gazing at the magnificent figure of the dragon and her new rider, a sight not seen since the times of the good queen.

The dragon ascended once more, spiraling up into the sky before diving into a thrilling descent as she cried out with excitement.

“Ninkiot!” her voice carried by the wind.

With a gentle landing, Silverwing descended onto the shore, her powerful legs sinking into the sand as the waves gently lapped around her.

Carefully, she dismounted, her legs trembling slightly from the excitement of the flight and her heart pounding, almost wanting to escape her chest. She stroked the dragon’s neck, whispering “Kirimvose” as she walked across the wet sand.

As she reached her front, the solemn creature lowered her head, large eyes watching her attentively again, strengthening the bond between them beyond mere duty or tradition. With that gesture, she allowed her to lean against her forehead again, a clear sign of acceptance, an indication that she had chosen her as her rider.

She closed her eyes, letting tears of joy flow freely. She tried to embrace the sturdy neck, and though she could not wrap around it, she felt the powerful breath vibrating under her arms.

On the beach, they remained still, enjoying the tranquility that followed the journey. The rhythmic lullaby of the waves and the warm glow of the setting sun created an atmosphere of serenity. Her life had taken a definitive turn, finding in the silver dragon not only a rider-dragon relationship but a faithful and powerful ally, and a sacred bond between two souls, a reflection of her own spirit.

As the sun slowly slid below the horizon, painting the sky with fiery reds and purple hues, they watched together the vast ocean stretching before them.

Thus, enveloped by the twilight that wrapped the world in a soft dusk, they sealed their bond with a silent promise, a tacit oath of eternal loyalty and companionship.

As the sun bid farewell with its last glimmer of light, she prepared to return to the castle, but not before giving the dragon one last affectionate stroke. As she turned, she noticed a figure at the entrance between the rocks: it was Jace, his eyes wide with amazement at what he had just witnessed. Seeing him, her smile widened even more, and she ran towards him.

“You did it!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. She nodded with a joyful laugh, and he greeted her with open arms, lifting her and spinning her in the air.

“This is... it's truly amazing!” When he set her down, he planted a kiss on her forehead and hugged her tightly. “We must celebrate” he declared enthusiastically.

“I do not wish to make Rhaena feel left out” she replied, still a bit concerned about her sister.

“Are you serious? You have just claimed a dragon, and you want it to go unnoticed?” Jace looked at her incredulously. “This is monumental.” She laughed, and taking his hand, she dragged him towards the castle.

“We shall celebrate our nameday on the morrow, and, quietly, this as well” she said, their voices echoing between the stone walls on the way to the castle.

“Would you carry me? I feel as my legs might give out any moment” she asked, and Jace chuckled softly, bending down so she could climb

With a small leap, she rested on his back, feeling the security and strength of her twin. “We need to have a saddle made. Although, I must admit, seeing you fly without one was impressive.”

She leaned forward, whispering near his ear: “I felt free, like it was the most natural thing.”

“It will be even better with a proper saddle” he said, nodding to himself. She laughed. She had enjoyed it that way, but she knew they would feel more at ease knowing she had something to hold on to.

Both Daemon and Baela were at Driftmark, so it was just the two of them, their mother, Joffrey, Luke, and Rhaena.

Their arrival did not go unnoticed. When the doors of the hall where they used to have supper swung wide open, and Jace set her down on the floor, she was greeted by a wave of emotions and smiling faces.

Rhaenyra was the first to approach, her eyes filled with pride and joy. “I’m so happy for you, my love” she said with a radiant smile, hugging her tightly. “I knew she was meant for you.”

Her siblings, with admiration in their eyes, surrounded her, congratulating her.

However, among them all, one stood out. Despite being the only one without a dragon, her face reflected genuine happiness for her achievement. Rhaena approached with a warm smile, her eyes shining.

“I knew you’d make it someday” Rhaena said, hugging her tightly.

She felt a deep sense of gratitude and love. Gently stroking Rhaena’s back, she responded with empathy: “Your time will come as well, I am certain of it. You’re strong and brave, and your dragon is waiting for you, just as mine did for me.”

Rhaena nodded, her eyes filled with determination. “I know” she said, with unwavering faith.

She felt a wave of pride for the younger sister, whose resilience and hope were admirable. “And when that moment comes,” she added with a smile, “I will be the first to celebrate it with you.”

She had been fraught with anxiety, and the soothing sensation of flying alongside her cherished dragon was her only respite. The thought of possibly withdrawing from the impending journey loomed over her, yet deep down, she knew she couldn’t evade it forever. Before the moon could wane, she found herself walking toward the main courtyard, where the dragons and their riders were busily preparing for the upcoming journey.

The festivities were still some time away, but her mother had decided to travel ahead of time, as news of the king’s declining health had reached, and she wanted to spend more time by his side.

In the bustling courtyard, Daemon, commanding the attention of all around him, stood beside Caraxes. His authoritative voice cut through the air as he directed those who would remain behind at the castle. The earlier departure of the other servants had ensured that every detail in King’s Landing was meticulously prepared for their arrival, leaving nothing to chance.

Jace and Luke were checking the straps and harnesses of Vermax and Arrax, while Baela and Rhaena were already mounted on Moondancer, as was her mother on Syrax.

Her youngest brother was especially excited, bouncing from side to side, eager for his first flight. It had taken considerable coaxing from both him and her to convince Rhaenyra to grant permission for them to travel together on dragonback.

“Silverwing looks magnificent!” Joffrey exclaimed. “I can’t wait to fly with her.” She smiled at his joy.

A few days before, she had introduced them. She knew her dragon was known for her gentleness, but she still needed to make sure she felt comfortable.

Silverwing had a new saddle, all black with the Targaryen heraldry in silver, as well as other details, in her honor.

She mounted first to secure everything. The dragon braced herself well against the ground to assist in the little one’s mounting, who, with the agility of youth, had no trouble getting on. He settled in front of her, his face full of awe.

“Are you ready?” she asked with a smile, observing the excitement on his face, before adjusting both their harnesses.

“Yes!” He exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Once everyone was ready, Silverwing led the flight.

The journey was an incredible experience. Both Joffrey and she were delighted with everything they saw. He, marveling at the views for the first time, and she, still awestruck by the beauty of flying over the vast expanse of the realm.

The trip took less time than she had expected, and not enough to fully accept what was to come. Seeing King’s Landing after so long was strange. Though she didn’t wish to return, her heart was melancholic. It was pleasant to see it again after such a long time, and from a different angle.

From afar, she spotted the enormous shape of Vhagar, who, too large to enter the Dragonpit, was sleeping on the meadow. Once close, she stirred, curious about the visit, and when Silverwing landed, they exchanged friendly roars.

The dragon keepers, those who had been there the longest, had informed her of Silverwing’s fondness for freedom, and she intended to respect it. Unlike the others, she would allow her to rest freely on the green of Rhaenys’s hill.

Joffrey’s mouth was open, amazed by the imposing dragon, as he had never seen her before. She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at this.

“Do you think Tyraxes will grow that big?” He asked, his eyes filled with dreams and hope.

“I think Tyraxes will grow even bigger, my dear” she replied with a smile.

Once they were on the ground, she took her little brother's hand, and after thanking Silverwing for a good flight and wishing her rest, they began to walk toward where their family and the carriages were waiting, ready to travel to the Red Keep.

Joffrey, as curious as ever, kept asking her about Vhagar, and she happily responded, delighted that he shared her interests.

“Vhagar is the oldest and largest” she explained as they walked. “She has seen many battles and served many brave riders.”

“Who is her rider now?” he asked, his tone full of wonder.

“Prince Aemond, our uncle” she replied, gently squeezing his hand. It had been a long time since she had spoken his name out loud.

When they reunited with their family, her mother hugged them as if they hadn’t seen each other in months, ensuring that they were well and ready for the next stage of the journey. Then they split up, with Rhaenyra, Jace, Joffrey, and her on one side, and Daemon, Baela, Rhaena, and Luke on the other.

Rhaenyra took her hand in the carriage, aware of the significance it held for her. “Everything will be alright, my love” she murmured gently.

Her siblings, peering out the windows with a mixture of curiosity and wonder, marveled at the sights they hadn't had the chance to explore.

“I know, mother” she replied, her voice tinged with both gratitude and a hint of nervous anticipation.

When they passed through the gates and were formally presented at the castle entrance, the door opened. It was their mother who went out first, followed by everyone else. Her fears and desires came true simultaneously, as he was conspicuously absent, leaving a hollow space where his presence should have been.

The king stood there, a shadow of his former self—his features more weary and his steps slower, but his eyes sparkled with a radiant joy. He had a beaming smile and nearly dropped his cane in his eagerness to embrace his daughter.

“It’s been so long” he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

They stayed embraced while the others, except for Daemon, offered a courtesy to the queen. She merely greeted from the stairs, her smile a mere flicker that failed to reach her eyes.

The greeting between Alicent and Rhaenyra was tense, unlike the warm embrace everyone else received from the king, who then continued chatting with his brother.

They then headed to their usual floor and dispersed to their respective rooms.

When she arrived, Lyra was already starting to prepare a hot bath. Seeing each other, they smiled, and she walked over to hug her.

“Thank the gods I was already preparing the bath” Lyra said with a smile.

She chuckled at the comment. Perhaps it was for the best that she hadn't seen him, given the state she was in.

Inside, she wrestled with conflicting desires: a part of her wished to never see him again, while another longed to see him immediately, to finally unburden herself from the weight she carried.

As she wandered around the room, her gaze lingered on the familiar surroundings. Once grand and spacious, it now felt confined compared to her quarters on Dragonstone. The room seemed to stand still in time, every piece of furniture and every detail evoking a rush of memories that tangled with her turbulent emotions. Despite her efforts to appear composed, inside, she felt a storm of nostalgia and unease.

“It’s so weird” she murmured as she took in the unchanged space.

“Yes,” the lady agreed, her tone light and soothing, “I think you took all its warmth with you.” Lyra gestured toward the now steaming bath, indicating that it was ready.

She began to undress. As she sank into the bathtub, allowing the warmth to dissipate the accumulated nerves, she relaxed her tense body. Each drop of water seemed to carry away a piece of her anxiety. She let out a sigh of relief.

The soothing scent of rose oil provided a brief respite from the day’s intense emotions, although her mind continued to spin.

Lyra, with the familiarity that only close friendship could offer, and understanding the emotional rollercoaster she was going through, placed the garments on a chair near the tub and approached with a warm smile.

“How are you feeling?” Lyra asked, her voice full of concern and empathy, helping her wash her hair.

She sighed, contemplating how to respond. “I feel as though I am caught between two worlds” she replied softly, gazing at the steam rising from the water. She began to surrender to the soothing sensation of hands working through her head as she closed her eyes.

“It is quite natural to experience such feelings. You have endured a great deal, and returning to a place so full of memories can indeed be quite challenging.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I merely wish to rest before facing everything.”

When she finished, she stood up and stepped out of the bath, taking the hand the lady extended. Lyra wrapped her in soft towels to dry her off and guided her to the mirror next to the window.

From there, they could see the sea, choppy, as if it too was aware of the return of its lost inhabitant and the reunion that would soon follow.

“Do you want to attend supper, or would you prefer to remain here?” Lyra asked gently.

“I believe I will stay here,” she replied, “I’m too fatigued.”

“Would you like to be left alone, or might you appreciate some company?”

“I’d love your company” she said. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate something simple to eat.”

Lyra nodded. “You know,” she said while helping her into the silk gown, “the first days are always the hardest. However, with time, matters tend to settle.”

“I hope so” she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It’s strange to be back here. I am pleased, yet at the same time…” She sighed, at a loss for words.

“I understand” Lyra said, giving her a small smile.

She nodded, grateful for the support. Lyra left the room to fulfill her request, and in the meantime, she sat in a chair near the window, watching the twilight darken the sky over King’s Landing. The view gave her a mix of sadness and anger, reminding her of what had been.

Soon, Lyra returned with a carefully prepared tray, laden with simple delicacies, and placed it on a small table near the window. She then lit some candles, creating a cozy and calm atmosphere.

“Is there anything you’d particularly like?” Lyra asked as she settled in.

“Everything appears perfect” she said, serving herself some bread and cheese. Although the exhaustion was evident in her eyes and the tension didn’t fully dissipate, she felt a bit more at peace with each bite and every exchanged word.

Finally, she looked at Lyra, trying to mark her nervousness. “Have you seen him around in recent days?”

Lyra frowned slightly, thinking about her recent observations. “Yes, I have encountered him a few times. He seemed quite tense, always immersed in his training.” She looked down at her food.

“People change, just as circumstances do” Lyra said, offering her a sympathetic glance. After a thoughtful pause, she added: “Perhaps there’s a chance to clear the air, understand where things stand.”

“I’m not sure I wish to speak to someone who has seemingly disregarded my existence for years” she admitted with a sigh, her voice heavy with hurt. She set her fork aside, the weight of her emotions apparent. “The very thought of it makes me ache.”

Lyra nodded. “I know” she said. Then she asked, “Perhaps discussing what you intend to wear tomorrow might serve as a distraction.”

A faint smile touched her lips as she considered her wardrobe. The conversation drifted to fashion choices and the trivialities of attire, Lyra’s questions drawing her into a more relaxed state.

“Thank you for listening, Lyra” she said. They had always been close, but with each passing year, they seemed to grow closer. The trust had deepened, and they could talk about other things. Now, Lyra was more than just a lady-in-waiting; she had been a witness to the highs and lows of her life, a confidante who understood more than words could express.

“I shall always be here for you” Lyra said sincerely. “Now, try to unwind. Tomorrow will be a new day and, with any fortune, it may provide greater clarity regarding how to proceed.” She nodded. The journey, though short, had been tiring.

As Lyra took the tray to remove it, she went to her bed to lie down. She tried to filter out the noise of the city and focus on the murmur of the sea. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the comforting familiarity of those sounds, trying to find an anchor amid the uncertainty surrounding her.

Her thoughts continued to revolve around what tomorrow would bring. The encounter with him after so long was inevitable, and although she had tried to prepare for the moment, she couldn’t avoid feeling a mix of emotions that kept her awake. Her mind replayed the possible words and gestures they would exchange.

Hours passed in a whisper of thoughts and sighs until she finally found sleep.

In Dragonstone, it was an uncommon event for the sun to shine in its full splendor, with no clouds to soften its rays. So, as soon as she felt the warmth of the first light of dawn filtering through her window, she began to blink awake, adjusting to the light. Lyra was already there, moving with the efficiency and grace of someone who knew every corner, preparing the outfit they had planned the day before. When she saw her stirring in bed, she smiled and handed her a cup.

"Good morrow" Lyra greeted softly, her voice as serene as the morning breeze. "I brought you some water."

She took the cup with a grateful nod, savoring the coolness of the water as it invigorated her senses and prepared her for the day ahead. Once finished, she got up, stretching her sleepy body and trying to focus on mundane tasks to avoid thinking about him.

Upon arriving at Dragonstone, she had clung to her old routines with a meticulousness born of habit, one that had only changed on the night of his nameday, many years ago. Every day, she had adhered to a strict regimen—her hair tied neatly, every curl perfectly in place, and light blue garments worn in honor of her late father, setting herself apart from her family.

It might have been her attempt to hold on to his memory, a tribute, or a desperate effort to maintain an identity she felt slipping away.

But the wildness of her new home had weaved its magic around her. Over time, she rediscovered her joy and sense of self. She was a Targaryen, proud and strong. The light blue was replaced, no longer confined to the past, she had embraced the rich hues of black, red and silver. Her hair, once restrained, now flowed freely, a declaration of her freedom.

Lyra helped her into the black dress they had chosen. It was elegant but not too striking, fitting for the occasion. As she adjusted the final details, Lyra's approving gaze and kind words made her smile. "You look astonishing."

"Thank you, Lyra" she said, feeling a wave of confidence wash over her.

"Ready?" Lyra asked, her voice soft yet filled with encouragement as she approached the door. Taking a deep breath, she nodded in response.

As they left the room, arms linked, the atmosphere in the castle was bustling, as always.

She and Lyra walked through the hallways, heading towards the hall. The path seemed both eternal and fleeting, each step bringing her closer to the crucial moment she had imagined so many times.

As they approached, the echo of conversations grew louder, mingled with the buzz of anticipation filling the air.

"It's exciting, is it not?" Lyra commented, her eyes scanning the lively scene around them.

"Yes, it is" she replied, "and a little overwhelming."

"You will be just fine" Lyra assured, gently squeezing her arm in support before taking her leave.

As the doors opened for her, she looked up, instinctively searching for him, but he was not yet present, so she entered with a bit more relaxation, her steps steadier.

She walked with a composed grace toward the family table, where conversation and laughter were already in full swing. She paused to greet each person in turn, exchanging smiles and brief words.

Two vacant seats awaited between Daemon and Baela. They began speaking softly, sharing updates and laughter.

Soon, her other two siblings arrived hand in hand. Joffrey, with his contagious cheer, gave her a warm hug before heading to his place, and Jace took the empty seat next to her.

“Thank you for abandoning me at supper last night” he teased, a mock annoyance coloring his tone.

“My apologies” she said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek that made him roll his eyes in exaggerated irritation. “But Luke was there.”

“Just look at him” Jace said, nodding towards Luke, who was engrossed in animated conversation with Rhaena. The sight made her smile, reassured by how Rhaena seemed just as engaged and entertained as Luke.

A few minutes passed, and at the king’s signal, breakfast began to be served. At that moment, the remaining people arrived, and the murmur in the room paused for a moment.

Everyone immediately rose to greet the queen as she entered, flanked by three of her children. Her heart raced, and her legs felt as though they were encased in lead.

Aemond followed closely behind the queen, impossible to ignore. His towering height and commanding demeanor made him stand out. As their eyes met across the room, the world seemed to blur, leaving only the two of them in focus.

She couldn't tear her gaze away from him. Each breath felt heavy with the weight of years and memories. Aemond's eyes locked onto hers as he approached, but upon reaching the table, he turned his gaze away with studied coldness.

Alicent was the only one to greet aloud, while the others simply took their places on the opposite side of the table, and everyone proceeded to sit down again. Her mother leaned back slightly in her chair to see her better. When she felt her eyes on her, she gave a reassuring smile, a gesture of gratitude for her unspoken support.

The servants resumed their duties, continuing to bring breakfast.

Despite the attempt to focus on the meal, her eyes kept drifting back to Aemond. It was as if some magnetic force drew her to him—part of her yearned to seek solace and fall into his embrace, weep uncontrollably on his chest, letting her tears speak for her, while another part wanted to unleash her frustration, confront him with all the anger she'd accumulated over the years. In either case, she would have asked him why.

His face betrayed nothing; there was a mask of stoicism that revealed no emotion, impenetrable. The round-cheeked boy she once knew had gone, replaced by a tall, slender man with chiseled, sharp features and an almost intimidating, forbidding aura.

His left eye, still covered by a patch, did little to diminish his striking beauty, which had grown darker and more enigmatic over time, and that drew her inexorably.

The turmoil within her was intense, stirred by his very presence, leaving her feeling both drawn to him and pushed away. It was bothering her that he always managed to evoke such deep and contradictory emotions.

The breakfast continued in a strained blend of courtesy and underlying tension, but her mind kept circling around him. She could barely manage a few bites, her stomach churning with unsettled nerves.

“And how do you find life in Dragonstone?” Her grandfather, ever the gracious host, broke the silence with a kind tone. “You know you will always have a place here.”

“We find it most agreeable” Jace responded with genuine enthusiasm. “And the dragons do as well. They seem to thrive there, growing faster and stronger.” She smiled at her twin's comment, appreciating the truth in his words about the unique charm of Dragonstone.

“I heard the princess has officially become a dragonrider” the king remarked with evident admiration.

“Indeed, my king. And to be truthful, Silverwing has claimed me more than I have claimed her” she said, her smile widening at the fond memory.

“The mount of the Good Queen Alysanne” he said with a note of respect. “It suits you well.” Although she knew she would never be a queen, his words touched her deeply. Jace gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

As breakfast concluded, the group began to rise, and the servants appeared to clear the table, signaling the end of the meal and the beginning of the day's activities.

Sorry for the little to nothing of Aemond! And I know nothing of High Valyrian, sorry for any mistakes!

Māzīs: Come.

Nyke kivio naejot rigle ao: I promise to honor you.

Sōvēs, Gēliotīkun: Fly, Silverwing.

Aderī: Quickly.

Ninkiot: Land.

Kirimvose: Thank you.

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