#daeron x oc

[presidenthades]

HOTD Oneshot: Swords, Sheaths, and Pearls

AO3 Link

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.1k (complete)

Summary:

Daeron burst into Aegon's childhood bedroom, which had been repurposed into an unofficial study. Aegon and Aemond looked up from a map of the city that they were bickering over.

“How does one pleasure a woman?” Daeron asked urgently.

Or: Joffrida Velaryon and Daeron Targaryen decide they’re ready to have sex. They ask their older siblings for advice.

Notes: Set sometime in the nebulous future of the AHFOD-verse. No smut, just sex ed and a lot of oversharing.

[maidmerrymint]

Reading the best House of the Dragon fanfic AU, where Rhaenyra has only daughters.

No dance of dragons.

[searchingforserendipity25]

More precious was the light in your eyes. ao3.

Many thanks to @welcomingdisaster and @outofangband for inspiration on how to tackle the 'dusk' prompt!

The first woman of the Edain Daeron loved was a milkmaid and cow herder late in her years, all wispy age-streaked braids and fat arms

He sought out her shadow rustling in the aldar leaves, in the laughing of a hidden brook. Running, leaping, whenever he thought he caught her scent of starlight on mossy ground - like a hound sniffing for its mistress, like a madman gathering thorn-scratches and losing the course of the years.

It was not madness, though it sounded mad, and foolish, and pitiful. 

There were tales told of him. Because even the oldest forest and the darkest waters were no longer unpopulated, and mortals bred fast and grew covetous, there were made old trees thorn down; it happened at times that he would leave a meadow for a time, and find it turned into a hamlet on his return, or a town.

His heart grew hard as stone, inside him. In the worst winters, when there was much cold to be fought in Mannish homes, and fallen elms and firs and birches were too many to name, Daeron thought only bitterly of Lúthien's escape. Lúthien's Choice, a choosing of cruelty, a renouncing of the true face of the world.

He withheld his songs from her, as if she heard him in truth; and gathering himself in a cold cave or hollow stump, his sleep was thin and unhappy, with no memory of spring.

Regret came with the first thaw; but then, like always, it was too late to find any solace, any satisfaction. Lúthien was in the forests, at times; but she never did turn to look back, to see if he kept to her tracks.

The first woman of the Edain Daeron loved was a milkmaid and cow herder late in her years, all wispy age-streaked braids and fat arms, pail carried steadily on her head even as she let out her loud graceless laugh.

Before her narrow cabin she set a basin, and a handful of seeds; in this way she had small wood birds near her house often, and some of their pretty singing.

It was a kindly trade; that it had brought her an elf as skittish and fond of fennel seeds as any sparrow did not daunt her in the least. In the evenings he came, sometimes, by her door; she played a flute, a small and ugly thing, not well and not badly.

Daeron had forgotten. The songs of others were lovely still, in their way; even the ones Lúthien had never heard.

Soon enough she she set him to fixing the thatch roof and mending the crane mechanism in the water pump- also gathering new rushes for the floor.

"As thou art a wood-sprite, and stands sense that rushes are sweeter for thee," which was true enough; he brought new smells into the damp shelter of her house, a little green wildness.

He did as he was told out of bemusement, and surprised himself in accepting her bowls of gruel, her warm blankets, her warm legs wrapped around him upon a straw mattress, a grass mound, the shade under the tall chestnuts where the cows grazed. 

"Look at this mad thing," she said, tripping rough fingers up his ribs to test if he would quiver, running them through his hair - picking off bits of dead grass, shreds of ivy. "I knew there were birds that turned into spirits in the woods, but most birds are much neater than this!"

She laughed at his indignation, and pressed him down, and laughed further at how he did quiver, nose against her bosom, mouth opening with kisses.

Reluctantly, in fits and starts and incidents, he came to know their ways.

The first winter he spent in a human village was an error; the second there was a plague, the sixth it was razed by the neighboring kingdom - or might have been. If not for Daeron singing terrors out of the mists; if not for the growing of briars sharp as daggers, and wild barking in the wild.

Melian's teachings were in him still, half-dormant; and if he told none whom it was that kept danger away, still his lover teased him while plucking briars from his hair, and grew even more shameless about sending him off to scare away wolves and bears and annoying tax-riders with his mighty powers.

Lúthien's choice grew less repellent to him, in time. But he would not have chosen as Lúthien might have, after all. 

He could only be himself, one of the Quendi; the last of them, he thought, perhaps.

He stood by the mounds where roses grew from his lover's bones. Her laughter, gone thick with age and then silent, was a biting grief, a cutting thing; and he had to be glad for it, too, for he had not thought to grieve a thing besides Lúthien, and it was good to love, after all, even a thing that died.

O, but it was bitter! A long winter of the heart, and a winter that always came back.

That much Lúthien had taught him, and his cow-herder; and the forests, too, where saplings grew in the place of old giants, and shrubs ate away even the roots of Ents.

This relinquishing come no more easily, not more easily was he at peace with it. Still he knew then it would happen again; many times, perhaps.

He swept the house, brought in new rushes, and left the cows grazing, and filled the basin, where sparrows and jays and plain nightingales came to sate their thirst. Some winters he went onward, deeper into the forests, to scare the wolves, the bold mountain lions, the king's riders.

But the house was his now, and the roses were not as stout as niphredil, and wanted tending.

-

It was not madness. Daeron saw her in every flower that bloomed at dusk, the sweet haze that rose over the world in the first days of spring. Lúthien was there.

He saw her, now. Not at first, when he was younger, and caught in grief and regret such that no consolation could be found.

He saw her in the small pale flowers that were not niphredil. He saw her in the lined faces of old women weaving by the hearth during the long winters, and in the maids dancing round the summer bonfires. In all things mortal, in all blue twilights; and he loved Lúthien the better for it, in time, with a love that was an aching sweetness, not the last of its kind.

[maidragoste]

hey , si only 8 days till the first episode arrives sooooooo , will we blessed with new the queen and her husband content ? ;)

Hi anon, a day late but here you have new content of the Queen and her husbands, this time Aemond is not present in this but I still hope you like it 🥰🥰

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💖💖

Series masterlist

Prince Daeron snuggled deeper into his hiding place as he heard footsteps. He silently waited for whoever he had entered to leave. But then the long tablecloth that covered the table was lifted, revealing his parents crouching down.

“Is there a place for us?” His father asked with a smile and normally Daeron would have calmed down when he saw it but with the words of his grandmother and the maester still running through his head, he wanted to cry.

You and Aegon exchanged a worried look when you saw that your son only nodded with his lips in a straight line, nothing like your always happy baby.

The prince saw how his parents took the crown off their heads and then left them on the floor and got under the table with him. Father pulled the tablecloth again to hide the three of them from the rest of the world.

Daeron felt warm and loved with his body pressed between yours and Aegon's. He wanted to stay there forever, with father holding you two and your hands gently stroking his hair while you hummed his favorite song. But he knew that his parents couldn't stay hidden with him forever because you were king and queen and you two had many things to do and he also had to return to his lessons.

“Am I grounded?” he asked making you stop humming.

“Should we punish you?” Aegon asked instead making his son look at him confused.

“I ran away from my lessons,” the prince said, not understanding why neither you nor Aegon seemed upset or angry with him.

“We know, your grandmother and the maester told us,” you told him.

Both you and Aegon noticed how Daeron grew smaller at the mention of adults. You watched as your husband frowned and clenched his jaw. You had no idea what was going on in his head but it clearly wasn't a good thing.

“Did they do something to you?” he asked, surprising you and your son. But Aegon didn't mince words, if Alicent or that maester had dared to lay a hand on his son then his mother would return to her family home in Old Town and the maester would be Sunfyre's next meal. “. “Daeron if they did something to you you have to tell us.”

"They didn't do anything," the boy quickly said when he saw the serious look in his father's eyes. He didn't want his grandmother and the maester to get into trouble because of him. "It's just that," he fell silent, not being sure if he wanted to talk about what was distressing him. He didn't want to disappoint you two.

“You can tell us anything, little dragon,” you encouraged him when you saw that he seemed hesitant. “No one will be mad at you,” you assured him and kissed his forehead.

“They said I should do better in my lessons if I want to be a good king.”

Your heart broke as you heard your baby's trembling little voice. And Aegon felt his anger with his mother increase, it had not been enough for him to make him feel inadequate for most of his life and now he made his son feel bad too.

But any anger was forgotten with Daeron's next words.

“But I don't want to be king because if I'm king then it means mother and you aren't with me anymore!” He shouted before bursting into tears and Aegon rushed to pick him up and lift him onto his lap. Daeron's hands quickly latch onto his father's neck as he begins to rock his body from side to side like he did when Daeron was a baby.

You watch with a heavy heart and without knowing what to do. You weren't prepared for this conversation. You can't lie to your son and tell him that the two of you would never leave his side because neither of you is immortal. But you don't want to stay silent either. You want to comfort your baby and make his anguish disappear.

“My little dragon, you don't have to worry about that yet,” you began to speak while you gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Your father and I will live for many years, so long that we will start to bother you and you will want us to leave you alone."

“It's a lie, I'll always need you,” he said, making Aegon laugh and earning a kiss on the forehead from her.

“I'm going to tell you a secret but you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you said as you raised your little finger and your son soon intertwined his own finger with yours, looking at you with his violet eyes full of curiosity.

“Won't you make Father promise too?” He asked when he saw that you didn't extend your pinky to Aegon.

“No, because he has known for a long time and never told anyone,” you responded, making your husband smile and you leaned in to steal a short kiss, making the prince complain. “Someone’s anxious,” you scoffed.

“Mother, I want to know!”

“Do you remember your uncles Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey?” Your son nodded repeatedly, excited because you didn't usually talk about your brothers as much as Uncle Egg, and Aegon made sure to put one of his hands on Daeron's head to prevent him from hitting the table.” Well, when I miss them a lot they usually come to see me in my dreams. So when you miss us or need us you can look for us in your dreams.”

“And you are always going to come?” Daeron asked anxiously.

“We can't promise that but we'll try,” your husband answered for you when he saw that you weren't sure what to say.

“I hope you make an effort or I will get angry with you,” the prince warned, crossing his arms, but instead of intimidating you, he made you two smile.

“It seems fair to us” You kissed his cheek and Daeron smiled.

“Now stop worrying and go find your brothers to play,” your husband said as he carefully lowered Daeron off of him.

“But my lessons”

“I ran away from my lessons all the time and I'm still a good king, right?”

“Aegon, don't give him any ideas,” you patted him on the back but your husband could see that you weren't seriously reprimanding him or that you were upset by how you were holding back a smile. After all, he sometimes sneaked out of his lessons to be with you. He still remembered how Alicent scolded him when she found him in the gardens with you but he didn't care because in the end, you had made him a pretty flower crown, if it were up to him he would have worn it until the flowers had withered but he could barely use it for two days when his mother forbade him to continue wearing it because he was not acting like a prince. “Today is an exception but then you have to continue attending your lessons with the maester and pay attention,” you said, bringing your husband back to the present.

“If I have to study more then I don't want to be king” the boy complained.

“Being king sounds tough, right?” Aegon sighed dramatically. "But don't worry, your mom and I will take care of everything so when your turn comes you won't have a lot of work to do,” he assured his son as he ruffled Daeron's hair. “Now go to play.”

Daeron smiled and kissed each of them on the cheek.

“I love you,” he said before quickly leaving under the table feeling much better.

Taglist The Queen and Her Husbands:

@watercolorskyy @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @sweethoneyblossom1@fudge13 @alisoncdariel @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @your-favorite-god

@snowprincesa1 @snh96 @rosey1981 @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99   @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @hannaeditzs @multi-fandoms-stuff

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hotd masterlist

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon.

I - Ensnared.

II - Counterblow.

III - Slip Away.

IV - Harmonize.

V - Butterfly.

VI - Wrecked.

VII - Eliminate.

VIII - Relinquish.

IX - Displaced.

X - Longing.

XI - Freedom.

XII - Revelations.

XIII - Tranquility.

XIV - Lingering.

XV - Eternal.

XVI - Hēnkirī hae mēre

XVII - Epilogue

XVIII - Exile (Aemond POV)

[novembermorgon]

promised (in the sense of ‘i made a poll like a week ago’) daeron myrielle

[wweskywalker]

🦋 April Commissions 🦋

Slide 1: Prince Daeron The Daring x Ser Addam Velaryon commissioned by jonsnowsimp

Slide 2: Prince Daemon commissioned by Sandra

Slide 3: Prince Daemon in Pentos commissioned by Sandra

Slide 4: Young Ser Davos Seaworth and Celia Tully (OC) commissioned by weirwooddream

Slide 5: ASOIAF OC commissioned by rhaxnys

Slide 6: Queens of the 7 Kingdoms commissioned by @raybyanothername

Slide 7: A birthday sketch for mabeylauren

Slide 8: Their free sketches!

May commissions are open! 🧡

[eludin]

THE CROWN'S WHORE | CHAPTER TWO

WARNING: sexual content, addictions, incest (we're talking about Targaryens here) grooming, manipulations, dark themes, and possibly more

She trembled at the foot of the bed, and clearly had already been passed between several of her older friends. At least, he prayed that it was her friends who touched her in such a way. They would not be cruel and savage with her. He hoped they wouldn't.

Her hair was messed, no longer the smooth cascade of silvery strands, and some bite marks ran up along the length of her neck.

Ariston painfully swallowed the pit of anxiety. "Are you well, Vyera?"

She shrugged and rubbed her arms.

He closed the distance between them. Her eyes still bore into the creaky floorboards. He rested his hands on her shoulders, inciting a sharp jolt from Vyera. "We do not have "

"Aye, we do." She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. "My worth will be determined by how much I break-in, through all means. Especially with my... capabilities."

Ariston sighed. He did not comprehend much of the workings within the brothel, yet what she said made sense. Within the markets, if a product does not produce much, it will likely be dropped and abandoned to be replaced by a higher sale. As much as it pained him to make such a comparison, Vyera became a product for many cruel individuals to enjoy themselves.

If all of her friends could afford it, they could keep such individuals away from her. Yet... Something whispered doubts in his ear.

Commoners rarely made enough money to afford who sex workers, especially those who work within the Crimson Whores brothel. A vast majority of her companions were commoners. Those who were of a higher class could only spend so many coins on her. They all had duties regrettably to tend to, so they may bear enough coin to shower on her.

"Very well," he said. His heart banged against his stomach like a raging beast. "We can start "

"Now."

This time Ariston flinched.

Vyera grabbed his wrists and dragged him to the bed. He fell onto the bed and let her lead. Ariston was not aware of how the other boys did it, but he let her have control of this at the very least. She smiled at him.

She looked down at his clothes, a silent command. As he began to undress, she slid her dress off to pool at her feet.

Her hands wandered up his arms, along the width of his shoulders, and down his chest, inciting chills and warmth toiled in his stomach. Vyera crawled up the bed to straddle him. She loomed over him and pressed her lips against his.

Disgust looped around his throat like a noose. He could not be actually enjoying this.

Her lips molded around his, her tongue slithered in between and rubbed along his own. Ariston moaned.

Fuck. He was enjoying this.

He was a fucking... He did not even have the words to describe what he was. He was doing the exact thing he feared grown men would enjoy doing with her.

She was a kid, and he was enjoying feeling her hands explore his body the same way an artist would explore their canvas, her tongue massaging his mouth, and her smell... her taste.. her touch... the sounds she made...

Fuck.

Ariston lay dazed beneath her, his mind a fuddled mess.

Vyera nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, curling into herself. He reacted the same way all the other boys did: Half wanting, half repulsed with themselves. They pushed and pulled at her, some bit at her flesh before jerking back in shock with themselves.

She almost pitied them.

They were all young. Some were only thirteen while others were a few years older than that. They certainly had their fun with whores older than themselves, but never have they ever experienced the conflicting emotions warring within them in such intensity. In this, they were fumbling like virgins as she fiddled with them the same way she'd fiddle with a spare pawn in her hand while she played chess with one of her father's coworkers.

He had been... thirty if her memory still served well. She'd been seventeen when they'd met.

He was everything she found attractive in men that she couldn't find in the boys of her old world: Smart, handsome, and strong. He was skilled in his work and smart enough to humor her with their games. Of course, over time their games became less innocent. Her cunt clenched and tingled in recall of their time together.

Sure, he wasn't the only one. She never could settle for one. But regardless of that, he sent a thrill through her bones few could accomplish.

Vyera sighed and held Ariston closer. "Are you alright, Riz?"

"Huh?"

He blinked awake and focused on her. There it was again. The conflict in his eyes.

"You seem..." she hesitated, abusing her lip. His gaze flickered to them and he sharply inhaled. "Off. Did I do something wrong?"

"No! Certainly not, you were incredible Wait, no, I mean " Ariston tripped and stumbled over his words for a quick minute. A devilish grin wished to curl on Vyera's lip but she quickly suppressed it in favor of a more concerned expression. She worked on her reputation for nine years. She wasn't about to let one slip up to ruin everything. She laid back down and hid her face into his neck. They had a few more minutes before he had to leave.

He sighed, patting her head stiffly. "Tis' nothing."

Vyera nearly scoffed at that. As if she was going to believe that. However, she didn't wish to scare off one of her many useful associates. If her plans with her father fall through, she'll need more than one lord to arrange for her escape from the squander of this forsaken brothel. King's Landing smelled as bad as it was written, and her nose likely died in order to tolerate the odor.

If the world thought she was going to remain, they were sorely mistaken.

"Are you sure?"

"Aye," Ariston murmured. "Simply running through my thoughts."

More like running from them.

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[hyper-somnia]

She’s a bit of a Mary Sue tbh

These are not even half of her titles. Had a lot of fun drawing this (and procrastinating on chapter 2 of my HOTD fanfic (Wattpad)).

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy

Rating: Explicit Chapters: 13/25, part 1 of 3 Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong, Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

READ ON AO3 Series Page on AO3 - Subscribe for ALL updates!

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen- I'll Be a Better Man Jace witnesses a mostly normal family dinner among the Greens. Aegon and Abby choose each other.

“They cheered for us!” Daeron exclaimed. “Tessarion flew across Highgarden and everyone cheered to see us. And I got to see Garmund - he’s a page for Lord Tyrell now, and they left a few days after us. We took the Mander up and I saw Lord Fossoway at Cider Hall, and then Bitterbridge and we got off at Tumbleton and Aemond! We saw Vhagar! She was flying over the Kingswood. ‘Twas brilliant! She scared half the guards with us, since the only dragon they’d ever seen was Tessarion.” The exuberance of his younger brother brought a hint of a smile across Aemond’s scowling face, and his violet gaze shifted from where he watched Jace and Baela to look down the table, leaning closer towards Abrogail who was smiling indulgently as she soaked her bread in the soup. “Did you? She quite enjoys it out there, and roosts in the cliffs. Perhaps she thought Tessarion was a screeching swan.” Helaena giggled and Daeron sputtered in indignation at the tease. Even Otto Hightower looked amused, a strange fondness in his expression while the king was content to enjoy his course, humming occasionally and giving a hint of a smile before drawing Lord Otto into conversation about the Westerlands and the Ironborn. It struck him as odd. Had he not missed Daeron? Was he not interested in the journey from one coast of their land to the other? And all the boy had seen? Daeron was talking about the small villages along the Mander, and how Ser Gwayne had explained the river villages were similar to those of the Riverlands themselves.

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[dreamfyre03]

A Dragon's Love

Author's Note: First time posting on tumblr, so please go easy on me, I hope you like this fic<3 Also, this fic is heavily team green, so if that's not your thing, this is a warning.

Header done by : @zaldritzosrose

Trigger Warnings (for this chapter): Brief mentions of violence (tourneys), childbirth, death, I think that's it but if there's more I missed please let me know.

Chapter 1: Born from Tragedy next part

As the sounds of knights riding their horses and lances bashing into shields filled the air, at the great tourney to celebrate the birth of what would hopefully be the son of King Viserys, his wife, Queen Aemma, laid in the childbed, crying out as her body swam in the depths of a pain the gods cruelly decided only women would bear. 

The babe was in breech, and there was very little that could be done. King Viserys was given a choice; cut the babe out of his wife, and gain a possible son, but loose his beloved Aemma, or leave it to the gods to decide. The King chose to play god instead, and gave the order. The Queen caught on to what was happening, and as she was held down by an army of nurses, and her own husband, her lasts words were short, yet so profound they would go on the haunt King Viserys until he too met the stranger; “No.” 

More disappointment was yet to come, for now the Queen was dead, and the boy the King so longed for was in fact not a boy, but a girl, a daughter. A screaming, pink, healthy babe, but she was just a girl. Viserys could hardly look at her, for shame of what he had done. The little girl looked up at her father, who struggled to even look at her, without seeing the face of his now dead wife in hers. 

“And what will she be called, Your Grace?” The Maester cut the silence by asking the King. “Daenys. Princess Daenys Targaryen.” He answered, as he handed off the babe to her nurses, for in his guilt the King could not look at her any longer. 

.

.

.

In a mere matter of months later, the King married the Lady Alicent Hightower, dearest friend and companion to his daughter, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. It was an act the destroyed the once unbreakable friendship between the two girls, and now the young Rhaenyra had yet another reason to loathe her new baby sister; she killed her mother, and consequently, made her lose her best friend. 

Thus, the sweet baby Daenys was left seemingly alone in the world; no mother, a father that couldn’t bear to look at her, and a sister that bore no love for her. Indeed, the gods can be cruel. 

Months after the marriage of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, the Queen was found to be with child, and soon gave the King his much wanted son, and they called him Aegon. Of course, at this point to Viserys, this changed nothing, as he had already named his daughter Rhaenyra as heir. At first many saw it as a temporary action to secure the line of succession, and to disinherit his younger  brother, Prince Daemon. But it was clearly much more than that, and some might say it was his way of righting the wrong he did to the only woman he ever loved, his first wife Aemma, by naming their daughter Rhaenyra the first woman as the heir to the Iron Throne. If only he knew what sorrow that choice would reign upon the House of the Dragon. 

The Princess Rhaenyra soon married Ser Leanor Velaryon, son of Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Time passed and passed, and Rhaenyra never showed a drop of kindness to her little sister, who tried to follow her around as soon as she could walk. The coldness from her sister and the slowly but surely depreciating health of her father saw the Princess Daenys in the care of Queen Alicent. She wasn’t always warm and kind, like many might expect a mother to be, but she grew a special affection for her step daughter. In turn, little Daenys felt the same for her step mother, and, her half siblings. Daenys and Aegon were about the same age, and as they grew, were inseparable. When Helaena came along, and they were about two and one respectively, Aegon cried at the deviation of attention from him to his new sister, but Daenys took to baby Helaena right away. When Prince Aemond was born a year later, Daenys loved her siblings with all her heart, even as the little girl kept longing for the love and acceptance of her older sister. 

.

.

.

Thirteen years later

Daenys sat with her sister Helaena, who was whispering indecipherable words as she allowed the many legged creature to crawl about her hands. Daenys did not care for the many insects her sister seemed to adore so, but she never said anything because she knew there was not much that brought her sister such peace of mind, even if it meant having all sorts of bugs in display containers in their shared rooms. 

She watched as Queen Alicent attempted to lend a comforting touch to her daughter, but Helaena tensed, and it was clear she did not want to be touched, as had been the case since her betrothal to their brother Aegon. Feeling bad for her stepmother, Daenys walked over and said, “Your Grace, perhaps a walk in the fresh air might do Helaena some good?” Alicent looked up affectionately at Daenys and smiled sadly, responding, “Yes, that’s a good idea my dear.” As the two princesses got up to make their way out, the doors burst open and Aemond ran in, straight into his mother’s embrace and he went on angrily, “They gave me a pig!” 

“What?” Alicent asked as she tried to calm down her son. “They gave me a pig to ride!” He yelled, shaking with anger. Daenys did not hear the words of comfort whispered by his mother, but did hear Helaena whisper, “He’ll have to close an eye.” 

Alicent then left, no doubt to reprimand Aegon, and Aemond stalked over to his sisters, and passed them to sit by the window, in a quiet anger. Daenys turned to Helaena, but before she could speak Helaena already knew and whispered, “Go ahead, sister.” Daenys smiled kindly, Helaena always knew what she was thinking. Daenys walked over to where Aemond sat and joined him quietly, and asked, “Are you alright?” 

“They gave me a pig, Aegon and those bastard Strongs. How is it fair that the bastards have a dragon and I don’t? I’m a true Targaryen, and yet I have no dragon.” He huffed as he looked out the window. Daenys took his hand in hers and said, “Aegon is a fool, and often doesn’t know when enough is enough. I believe you’ll have a dragon on day, Aemond. It’ll be a marvellous dragon, that puts the others to shame.” At this, her brother turned to look at her and asked, “Even Meraxa?” Referring to Daenys’s own dragon, who was incredibly large, larger than Dreamfyre, with beautiful white and red scales. Daenys gave him a smile that put him at ease, and replied, “Hmm, well we shall have to see. I wonder if any dragon can put my Meraxa to shame. But until you claim one that can, you can ride with me on Meraxa any time you want.” 

Aemond smiled slightly and tightened his hand around hers. Later that day, when the sun was setting, Daenys made her way to her older sister’s apartments, to wish her congratulations on the birth of her new babe, Joffery.

She knocked on the door, until she heard her sister’s voice call out, “Enter!” 

Daenys pushed the door open and walked in to the sight of Rhaenyra sitting tiredly on the settee in her rooms, as she rocked baby Joffery.

“Sister, I come to wish you congratulations on the birth of Prince Joffery.” She said, as Rhaenyra barely glanced at her.  “Thank you, Daenys.” Was all she said, and rather coldly at that. But Daenys was used to it. Her sister had never warmed up to her, always seeing Daenys as the one that killed her mother, and ruined her friendship with Alicent, and the years hadn’t softened how she felt about Daenys. Yet, despite the continuing effort she always made with Rhaenyra, she had seemingly already hardened her heart to the younger girl, and had no desire to have any relationship with her. 

“I trust your labours were alright? And little Joffery is well?” She pressed, hoping for something, anything other than the coldness Rhaenyra always gave her, but as always, nothing came. 

“They were alright. Joffery is quite well. Labours can be quite strenuous, as I’m sure you know.” Rhaenyra replied emotionlessly. They both knew she meant it not in the sense that Daenys had birthed children of her own, but that she was the cause of their mother’s untimely death in the childbed. 

Daenys fought the tears that sprung up in her eyes, and simply said, “Indeed. Well, I bid you good day, sister.” As she walked out of the rooms. Rhaenyra hadn’t bothered to even bid her goodbye. Daenys lets her tears begin to fall down her face, and she quietly stifled her sobs as she made her way to the Godswood. She knew that it would be dark soon, and that she should go to her rooms with Helaena, but she preferred to be alone for a moment, if only to shed her tears in peace. 

Once, when she was twelve, she tried to ask Rhaenyra about their mother, which resulted in an awful exchange between the two, which led to Rhaenyra berating her cruelly, and Daenys crying and running to find comfort in the arms of Alicent, which only angered Rhaenyra even more. The memory came back to Daenys as she sat under the Godswood tree, watching the sky turn to night, nothing but the sound of her quiet sobs and sniffles in the air. 

“Daenys?” She heard a familiar voice call out to her. She wiped her tears away quickly and saw Aemond approach. “What’s the matter?” He asked as he sat next to her. She loved her younger brother, although he always put on a tough face, he had a kind heart. While Aegon was loud and boisterous, ever seeking attention, Aemond was always in the shadows, yet he always stood out to her. 

“Nothing, truly.” She replied, sniffling. “Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you can’t  tell me things. It’s alright. You comforted me earlier, I only wish to comfort you now.” He said with a slightly nervous voice. Daenys smiled at him sadly. “I went to see Rhaenyra. I just wanted to congratulate her on the babe.” She told him, and Aemond scoffed, “Ah yes, the newest Strong bastard.” Despite their sister’s cruelty to her, Daenys reprimanded him with a playful touch and said, “She wasn’t too happy to see me. She never is. I suppose I am a fool to keep trying, when I am to blame for our mother’s passing.” 

“You’re not. Rhaenyra is a fool, and you are the best sister ever. But don’t tell Helaena,” he comforted her with a smile, and she giggled. 

“Do not blame yourself. It is not your fault. You didn’t ask to be born, you could not control what happened that day, you were only a babe.” Aemond reassured her, and she chastely kissed him on the forehead and said, “Since when did my little brother become so wise?” Aemond rolled his eyes and said, “I’ll be a man soon, sister. And Daeron is quite younger than me.” Daenys laughed, “True, but Daeron isn’t here is he? So then, I’m afraid you’re  little brother until we see him next.” Aemond shook his head, attempting to hide his smile, as the two siblings sat together, under the Godswood, talking and laughing until they were found and summoned back into the castle once more. 

[presidenthades]

Targaryen Eating Habits and Other Smallfolk Tales

AO3 Link

Rating: M (because the servants witness a lot of raunchiness)

Summary: While the Targaryens are busy ruling Westeros, the smallfolk keep their draconic overlords fed, watered, and clothed.

Notes: This is a non-chronological anthology of servant/smallfolk POVs as they interact with the Targs. Updates will be sporadic, depending on when I feel inspired to write a chapter. Suggestions for POVs you’d like to see are welcome!

[icarusignite]

Before the Sky Falls | Ch.1

A/N: Finally started updating this fic lol. Would love to hear your thoughts <3

Word Count: 4.5K

All chapters: Masterlist

AO3    |    Wattpad  

High Valyrian Words:

kepa = father

ñuha tala = my daughter

The world is brighter than the sun, now that you're here

"Come on, Aemond! We mustn't keep Grandsire waiting! Tonight's story is going to be the most exciting!"

Five-year-old Daenys Velaryon sprinted through the bustling corridors of the Red Keep, her pale hair streaming behind her. Once or twice, she stumbled, tripping over the hem of her nightgown but her hand was clasped firmly in that of her dearest friend, Aemond Targaryen, and he was there to steady her every time. Her other hand clutched a large leather-bound book to her chest, arms almost trembling with the effort as she led the way to her grandfather's chambers for their nightly routine.

Prince Aemond, also a child of five, but with a more reserved demeanour, trailed behind his spirited niece, his steps hesitant.

"Slow down," he scolded, tugging at her hand. "If you trip again, I'll just let you fall this time."

Daenys turned around and stuck out her tongue at him playfully, "You would not!"

"I would!"

"Okay, okay, I'll slow down, but I'm blaming you if Grandsire gets upset that we're late."

"It's not like Father ever gets upset with you anyways," Aemond rolled his eyes, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

As they approached a grand set of ornate double doors, Daenys slowed her pace, casting a quick glance back at Aemond. Sensing his apprehension, she paused, concern filling her bright eyes, watching him carefully as he fidgeted nervously.

"You...you don't have to come if you really don't want to," she mumbled.

"No. It's just. I think I should go see Mother. I promised her I would."

"You don't wanna hear the story?"

"Maybe I'll come another time. Mother's been so busy with Daeron and she's so tired. I don't wanna make her sad by not going."

Daenys' shoulders drooped, disappointment etched across her delicate features. Her small hand slipped out of Aemond's grasp.

"But, I wanted to hear the story with you."

Aemond laughed, reaching out to pinch her cheeks and she scowled as swatted his hand away.

"I told you not to do that!" she pouted.

"Well, I'm older than you so I can do whatever I want!"

"No, you can't! You're only..." she held up her fingers trying to count, "some moons older."

"You don't even know how many," he teased.

"Well, do you?"

"Yeah, but I'm not telling!"

"Bully!"

"See you tomorrow, Daenys," he pinched her again and scampered off down the hallway before she could chase him.

"You better tell the baby I said hello!" she hollered after him before pushing open the heavy doors, revealing the stately room of her grandfather, King Viserys.

The chamber was adorned with rich tapestries, towering bookshelves, and a roaring fire that cast a warm glow across the room. The scent of aged leather and parchment fills the air, creating an atmosphere of wisdom and comfort. His diorama of Old Valyria took up a large chunk of the room, and as always, it took Daenys's breath away with its intricate detail and sheer scale.

The King was seated in his armchair in front of the fire as usual and his face beamed when he saw his granddaughter.

"Ah, my little princess, you've come! And what tale have you brought me tonight?"

Daenys bounded toward him, her book still clutched tightly in her arms, and leaped onto his lap with a contagious giggle. The King's eyes twinkled with tenderness as he enveloped her in a warm embrace. When she handed him the book, his eyebrows arched in surprise as he glanced at the title, The Tale of Aegon the Conqueror.

"We're in the mood for a tale of battles and conquest tonight aren't we?" he mused. "Haven't we read this one before though?"

"Yes! I want to hear it again. Please Grandsire."

"And what do you find so fascinating about this particular story, Daenys?"

"Visenya! She's the best. And she has a sword!" Daenys exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "She's so brave, Grandsire, and I want to be brave too!"

"Ah, so you have a fascination with Visenya and her sword, do you? Well, she was indeed a remarkable warrior. But remember, my dear, bravery comes in many forms. You possess your own unique strengths."

"But I want to be brave with a sword too! Why can't I learn to fight like Visenya?"

The king leaned back, his expression thoughtful as he considered her words, "You know there are other important skills that you can excel at. Knowledge, diplomacy, and the ability to inspire others can be just as powerful, if not more so. You are the heir to the Iron Throne, those talents will serve you better."

"But I want to be strong like Visenya! And Father! I want to protect the realm too!"

"And you will my dear. Strength isn't always measured by the swing of a sword."

"Father said he'd teach me. When I get older. He says I'm too small to wield a sword, which is silly. I am plenty big enough."

King Viserys smiled warmly, "Well I for one am in no hurry to see you grow up, my Daenys. I like you just the way you are. Now let us read."

He kissed her forehead and she nestled closer to him, eager to dive into the tale of Aegon the Conqueror and his fierce sister. As the king began to read, Daenys's imagination soared,

As King Viserys's soothing voice filled the room with tales of battles and conquest, Daenys's imagination transported her to a world where dragons roared across the skies and heroes rose to meet their destinies. She listened intently, her eyes closed, imagining herself as the hero of such a tale. Amid the story, Daenys couldn't help but interrupt her grandfather, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Grandsire, Visenya had her own dragon too right? Like Aegon did?"

"Indeed, Daenys. Visenya, like her brother Aegon, rode a magnificent dragon named Vhagar. Together, they were an unstoppable force, uniting the Seven Kingdoms."

"Aunt Laena rides Vhagar now doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does."

"How wonderful! She must be so strong, just like Visenya. I saw her you know, when she came to visit Mother last year."

King Viserys hummed in acknowledgement, content to just hear her prattle on about the various members of their household and their dragons.

"I wish I could ride a dragon too, Grandsire. Imagine soaring through the clouds, seeing everything from up above," her excited expression dropped. "Father took me once. It was lovely."

The king's gaze softened as he watched his granddaughter, empathizing with her longing for a dragon companion. His thoughts flickered to the old dragon he himself had claimed long ago.

"You know, even Jace's egg hatched, and mine still hasn't."

"My dear, I understand your sadness. Having a dragon bond is indeed a remarkable gift, but it is not something that can be forced or controlled. Dragons choose their riders, just as riders choose their dragons. It is a connection that goes beyond our understanding."

"But why haven't any dragons chosen me, Grandsire? What if I'm not worthy?"

The king gently took her small hand in his, reassuring her with his touch, "Oh, my sweet Daenys, your worthiness is not defined by the presence of a dragon. Dragons are magnificent creatures, but they are not a measure of one's value or greatness. Your worth lies in your heart, your kindness, your strength, and the choices you make."

Daenys nodded, and the king smiled. He reached into the pocket of his robe and drew out a wooden figurine which he handed to her. Her fingers traced the details carved onto the wooden dragon, eyes shining with curiosity.

"What's this, Grandsire?"

"A dragon of your very own. For now at least, until you claim a real one," King Viserys grinned. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, I love it! Thank you!"

"Anything for you."

"Then will you tell me about your dragon? I've heard stories of Balerion the Black Dread, the mightiest dragon of all. Did you really ride him?" Daenys continued.

King Viserys's eyes gleamed with a mixture of fondness and nostalgia as he delved into his memories.

"We did not have much time together, Balerion and I. He died but just a year after I claimed him."

"Did you never claim another dragon, Grandsire?"

"Hmm, I suppose I never cared for it. A Targaryen only ever bonds with one dragon in their lifetime. There was no one else for me besides the Black Dread, and even though he died, that did not change."

Just then, a timid knock sounded at the door. One of Daenys's handmaids peeked her head in after a moment, her voice soft.

"The hour is late, Princess. It is time for bed."

Daenys cast a longing glance toward her grandfather, her eyes filled with reluctance. She didn't want the magical evening to end.

"Do I have to go, Grandsire? Can't I stay a little longer?"

"Fear not, my dear. I will be here tomorrow night. And on that eve, I shall tell you the tale of Daenys the Dreamer, the visionary after whom you were named."

"Truly? There was another Daenys?"

"Indeed, my dear. It is a tale steeped in prophecy, dreams, and the power of foresight. I think you will find it quite fascinating."

Daenys's handmaid stepped forward, her presence a reminder of the passage of time, "Princess, it's time for bed. You may continue your stories tomorrow night."

With a heavy sigh, Daenys allowed King Viserys to set her down on the floor and her spirits were lifted by the promise of another enchanting tale.

"Goodnight Grandsire," she planted a soft kiss on his weathered cheek.

"Sleep well, my brave princess. Dream of the wonders yet to come. And tomorrow night, the story of Daenys the Dreamer we shall unfold."

Once outside the king's doors, Daenys turned to her handmaiden with a pleading look in her eyes, "Edith, may we stop by the gardens for a moment before bed."

"Princess, it is late and the gardens are chilly. You'll catch a cold if you go outside in your nightgown."

"I know but it's important, please. I just need a moment in the gardens. I promise I won't stay out for long."

"Very well. I will accompany you, but we must make it quick, and you mustn't linger."

Daenys nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as they made their way toward the moonlit gardens. The cold night air kissed her cheeks, but she paid it no mind. Her focus was fixed on a single purpose. As they entered the gardens, she moved between the blooming flowers, her small hands carefully plucking blossoms of various hues.

"What on earth are you doing, Princess?" Edith frowned at the sight of Daenys on her hands and knees in the grass.

"These only bloom at night. I wanted to take some to Mother. She's been so tired and grumpy lately. Maybe these will cheer her up."

"And how do you know that these only bloom during the night, Princess?"

"Aemond told me," Daenys returned in a matter-of-fact tone.

"The Prince? He told you?"

"Yes. He knows everything about everything, so he must be right."

Edith chuckled, "I suppose he must then, but we really ought to head back inside."

As Daenys and Edith made their way back through the castle corridors, Daenys suddenly deviated from the usual path. Edith, puzzled by the change in direction, quickened her pace to catch up with the determined princess.

"Where are we going? This isn't the way to your or Princess Rhaenyra's chambers."

Daenys glanced back at Edith, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, as she continued on her determined path, "I have one more stop to make, Edith. It's a secret surprise."

Edith's confusion transformed into curiosity, and she followed Daenys down familiar hallways and staircases until eventually, they arrived at a grand door adorned with ornate carvings. Edith hesitated, unsure if it was appropriate to call upon the Queen at such a late hour, but Daenys, brimming with anticipation, raised her fist to knock.

"Enter!" came a tired voice from inside.

Edith stayed hidden behind the doorway as Daenys made her way into the spacious chambers. Queen Alicent sat by the fireplace, rocking her youngest son as he dozed fitfully, occasionally letting out a whimper. She was startled when she saw Daenys, straightening up.

"Daenys, my dear! What brings you here at this late hour?"

Daenys approached the queen with a shy smile, holding out a small bundle of flowers, "I brought these for you. I thought they might make you not be sad anymore. Aemond said that you were tired."

Alicent threw her second son a curious glance where he was comfortably seated on her bed with a book in his hand, "Oh did he now?"

"Yep!"

Alicent's eyes warmed as she accepted the bouquet from Daenys and ruffled her hair, "Thank you, my sweet."

"May I say hello to the baby?" Daenys peered curiously at the sleeping child in Alicent's arms.

"Be careful not to wake him. It took quite a while to get him to settle down."

Daenys nodded solemnly, pressing a finger to her lips in a silent promise. She shuffled closer to Alicent's chair, eyes roving over Daeron's pale hair and minuscule features.

"He's so so tiny. Just like Jace," she whispered in a hushed tone.

Alicent rubbed an affectionate thumb over the babe's cheek, "I suppose he is."

"Do you think they'll be friends, Queen Alicent? Like you and my mother, and Aemond and I?"

Alicent glanced at Daenys through the corner of her eye, noting her childish hope and naiveté.

"Perhaps," she answered vaguely.

"Goodbye baby Daeron," Daenys mumbled softly before making her way toward the main reason she had come to the Queen's chambers.

Meanwhile, Aemond, who had been sitting in a corner of the room, perked up when Daenys approached him.

"Aemond! Look what I brought you!" she whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" he leaned his head closer to hear her better.

Daenys rolled her eyes as she brought out the carved dragon King Viserys had given to her.

"Look at this, isn't it lovely? Grandsire gave it to me, and I thought you might like to have it."

Aemond's eyes widened in panic, "Wait no. I can't take this. Father gave it to you."

"And now I'm giving it to you. I was feeling sad about not having a dragon and it made me feel better so now I want you to feel better too. Grandsire said that it doesn't matter if your siblings already have dragons. You'll get one soon too!" her voice held a slight lisp as she spoke quickly, tripping over her words slightly.

Aemond shook his head, pushing the figure back into Daenys's hands, making her frown.

"He could've just said that to me himself..." he mumbled under his breath.

"Do you not like it?"

"It's not that."

"Would you take it if it looked prettier?" Daenys reached up to pull her red ribbon out of her hair and tied it into a bow around the dragon's neck. Her hair came tumbling down around her shoulders, some of it falling into her eyes.

A small laugh escaped the young prince as he watched her try to blow it away with pursed lips. He let her press the newly decorated toy into his palms.

"Thank you Daenys."

Daenys poked his cheek, "You don't need to say that to friends silly."

"I told you I'm older than you. I can do anything," he flicked her forehead.

"One day, I'll be older than you!" she huffed.

"Who's the silly one now? You can't ever be older than me."

"I'll find a way!"

"You can't!"

"I'm leaving," Daenys announced. "You're a silly silly pigeon Aemond."

"You can't call me that!"

"Well, I just did."

Daenys grinned at being able to use the newest word she'd learned earlier that day.

"Silly pigeon Aemond," she sang as she waved goodbye to Alicent's amused form.

Daenys's next stop was her mother's chambers, much to Edith's chagrin as she followed the little princess around the dark castle halls.

"Princess, your mother is surely asleep by now. It is late and being with child means that she needs all the rest she can get," Edith cautioned.

Daenys slowed to a halt in front of her door, hesitating, "I won't bother her."

"If she's sleeping, your arrival will wake her up."

"I'll be really quiet. I promise. I'll just take one little look and if she's sleeping, I promise I'll leave."

After Edith's reluctant nod, Daenys cracked her mother's door open ever so slowly and stuck her head just enough to take a look inside. Candlelight spilled out from her mother's chambers, indicating that she was still awake.

"I can see you," Princess Rhaenyra sighed from her place on her bed, hand resting gingerly on her swollen belly, a look of weariness etched on her face. But as soon as Daenys entered the room, her tired eyes lit up with a mixture of love and surprise.

"Daenys, my sweet girl. What brings you here at this hour?"

Daenys rushed to her mother's side, her arms outstretched, flowers in hand, "Mother! I brought you flowers! They're to make you smile."

"Thank you, my little flower, but you're all I need to make me smile."

Daenys clambered onto the bed and nestled herself beside her mother, snuggling against her, seeking the solace of her embrace.

"Mother, can I sleep with you tonight? I miss you, and I want to be close to you."

Edith, ever watchful of Princess Rhaenyra's well-being, stepped into the room, concern evident on her face, "Princess Rhaenyra, you are due soon. We must ensure your comfort and rest."

Daenys's bottom lip trembled, her eyes pleading, "But Edith, I want to spend time with Mother. I promise to be careful. Please, oh please. I promise I won't hurt the new baby."

Rhaenyra observed the exchange, her heart melting at the sight of Daenys's longing. She reached out, pulling Daenys into her embrace. She kissed her forehead and tucked her daughter's face into her neck.

"Edith, thank you for your concern. But I think I'll be fine. Daenys can sleep with me tonight. It will bring us both comfort."

"Very well, Princess Rhaenyra. But please be careful and let me know if you need any assistance during the night," Edith bowed low before closing the shit behind her as she departed.

Daenys's face lit up with joy, her heart dancing with the prospect of spending the night with her mother. She snuggled close, finding comfort in her warmth and the rhythmic beat of her heart.

"Do you want to feel the babe?" Rhaenyra smiled at Daenys, taking her small hand and placing it on her stomach.

There was a slight kick under Daenys's palm and she yanked it away as if burned.

"Does it hurt you?" she frowned. "It feels weird!"

Rhaenyra laughed, "Not so much anymore."

Daenys's frown grew deeper as she wagged a stern finger at her mother's belly, "You better not hurt my mother, or you'll be in big big trouble!"

"Oh Daenys, he's not hurting anyone."

"He? Do I get another brother?"

"Yes, I think so."

"How do you know?"

"A mother's intuition, love."

Daenys was silent for a moment before another question spilled out, "Did I ever kick you?"

Rhaenyra tugged on her ear playfully, "Oh, yes. You were a terrible kicker."

"I hurt you?" Daenys's lips turned down and she threw her arms around her mother, kissing her cheeks fervently. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Mother. I'm so sorry."

"You could never hurt me you sweet thing. Now let us go to bed. Between Jace and the new babe, your brothers seldom let me get a wink of sleep."

In the midst of their peaceful slumber, Daenys was abruptly awoken by her mother's restless movements and grimaces of discomfort. Daenys bolted up in bed, her heart racing as she observed her distress. She gently shook her awake.

"Mother, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Rhaenyra's breathing was laboured as she attempted to sit up and lean against the headboard. The candle had long burnt out, leaving the room in utter darkness and Rhaenyra fumbled with her bedclothes, feeling the trickle of something warm between her legs. The ache in her lower stomach intensified and she let out an agonized groan.

"Mother! Should I call someone? Should I call Edith?"

Rhaenyra, her voice strained, reached out and grasped Daenys's trembling hand, "I need the midwives. Only they can help. Hurry, my love."

Daenys nodded, her eyes filled with determination. She slid out of bed and darted out of the room. She tripped at the door in her haste, her face slamming into one of the chairs nearby. At the sound of the crash, Rhaenyra groaned in pain again.

"Are you alright darling, did you fall?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Daenys scrambled up, shoving the chair out of the way.

She didn't know where to find the midwives so she went to the only other place she could think of, Queen Alicent's chambers. She banged on the door with urgency, and Alicent opened it after a few moments, yawning and rubbing sleep from her eyes. Concern coloured her face as she saw Daenys's distraught form and the blood trickling from her nose.

"Daenys, what's the matter?"

Daenys, barely able to catch her breath, spoke in haste, "Something's wrong with Mother! She's hurt! She said she needs the midwives!"

Alicent's eyes widened as she gathered her robe around herself, "Right. Okay, you stay here, I'll get them."

Within the next few moments, the entire castle had awoken and that is how her father found her, hours later, sitting forlornly in the dimly lit corridor with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her hands were clapped over her ears to muffle out the echoes of her mother's shrieks that reverberated throughout the castle.

"What's wrong, ñuha tala, why are you crying?" Laenor Velaryon crouched down to meet her teary eyes, taking out his handkerchief to dab at her nose delicately.

"Kepa!" she wailed, hiccupping through her tears. "I hurt Mother. She's hurt because of me. Because I didn't listen to Edith!"

"You did not hurt her. You could never hurt anyone. It is just the babe. Babies do a little damage sometimes. It is time for your brother to come into this world, that is all."

"But what if I hurt her, Father? What if I made things worse?"

Laenor swept her into his arms and stood, stroking her hair as he walked toward Rhaenyra's chambers.

"Your mother is going to be just fine, my flower. Let's go check on her shall we, maybe that'll make you feel better, if you see her?"

"Is she okay now?"

"Yes, the most difficult part of it is over. She is just resting now."

"Okay."

Laenor pulled back to examine her face closely and then he tapped her on the nose.

"And why are you bleeding Daenys? How did you get hurt?"

Daenys's face scrunched up once again at the reminder of her fall and she threw her arms around her father tighter, "Kepa! I-I fell and I hit my face on Mother's chair. It-it hurt so much but I was brave and I didn't bother Mother with it."

"Oh, you were so brave. My brave little girl. We'll ask the maesters to get you something for the pain okay?"

"Okay," she sniffed morosely.

Daenys's tears slowed and halted once they entered Rhaenyra's chambers and she saw her mother. Rhaenyra lay in bed, looking weary but radiant, cradling the newborn in her arms. Laenor walked over and deposited Daenys next to her.

"Someone here was very worried about you," he grinned.

"Daenys, my darling, would you like to meet your brother?" Rhaenyra beckoned to her daughter.

"No," Daenys crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, turning her face away. "I don't like the baby. He hurt you!"

Laenor snorted and Rhaenyra smacked his arm with a roll of her eyes.

"My love, I know you're upset with the baby right now, but he didn't mean to cause me pain. It's just a part of how babies come into the world."

"It seems you're quite protective of your mother aren't you fireheart? Your anger towards the baby is quite amusing."

"Do not encourage this behaviour, Laenor!"

Daenys's pout slowly transformed into a hint of a smile. She couldn't resist her father's teasing and giggled despite herself.

"I warned him, Father. Just before we went to sleep earlier, I warned the baby not to hurt Mother."

"Oh did you now?"

"Yes!"

"Well, he is very sorry that he didn't listen. But it would make us so very happy if you greeted him properly. Do you think you can do that?" Laenor pressed the furrow between her eyebrows to smooth it out.

"Okay. But he has to promise to be good to Mother."

"Oh, he'll be lovely. Don't you worry about me, my sweet girl?" Rhaenyra leaned forward slightly to reveal the tiny squirming bundle in her arms.

Daenys's breath caught in her throat, at the sight of his tiny face, still flushed from birth, and it tugged at her heartstrings. She noticed the delicate curve of his lips and the tiny fingers that curled instinctively. As she studied him, an unexpected wave of tenderness washed over Daenys. The anger and resentment she had held began to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of protectiveness.

"What's his name?" she breathed out in wonder.

"Daenys," Rhaenyra smiled. "Meet Lucerys Velaryon."

"Lucerys," Daenys ran a hand atop the smattering of dark brunette curls on his head and grinned. "He looks just like Jace."

"Yes he does," Laenor flicked her forehead. "And he looks like you did too."

Daenys extended a gentle finger to touch Lucerys's tiny hand, her touch as delicate as a butterfly's wing. Even though his eyes remained shut tight, his fist clamped around her finger and she giggled.

"His hands are so pretty Mother. He is so pretty. How can he be so pretty?"

"All babies are beautiful my love."

"No, they're not! Some babies are ugly!"

"Oh really, and how many babies have you seen fireheart?"

"Jace."

"Daenys!" her mother chastised sternly as her father tried to stifle his laughter.

"What?" Daenys protested. "I'm not saying he's ugly. He's lovely now, but when he was born he was all squishy and red like an overripe tomato."

"Daenys!"

"Lucerys is not like that though. He's a pretty baby. But it's okay. No matter what they look like, I'll protect them," she hovered her face right above the baby. "You hear me little Luke. I'm your big sister, Daenys. I promise to protect you and love you just like I do with Jace."

"Anything else you'd like to say?" Laenor raised an amused eyebrow.

"Hmmm. I hope you'll make Mother happy, Luke. And if you cause any more trouble, I'll be there to keep you in line."

Laenor and Rhaenyra exchanged a glance of relief and shared a tender smile at her comical words.

Taglist (comment to be added): @a-mexican-waffle  @bellameshipper 

[prettymuchteddy]

Teddy's Masterlist

House of the Dragon/ASOIAF

Rhaenicent fanfics

A Targaryen Type of Madness (finished series)

Rhaenyra Targaryen always had a hint of madness in her, though it would take many years for its extent to be realized.

The Madness of Dragons (ongoing series)

After six years, the heirs of the Iron Throne have come out of hiding and want to reclaim their birthright. The dragons will dance as war breaks out between Queen and Heirs. Continuation of A Targaryen Type of Madness.

Last Christmas (on hiatus)

Last Christmas Alicent Hightower gave Rhaenyra Targaryen her heart, but the very next day everything fell apart. This year to save herself from tears, Alicent vows to avoid her at their family's Christmas vacation. Will Alicent keep her vow? Or will her heart be broken again?

Underneath the Veil of Hatred (finished series)

Princess Rhaenyra gives birth to a third child, a son with brown hair and dark eyes. The realm believes the child's true father to be the Princess' sworn sword, Harwin Strong. Queen Alicent Hightower orders to the child be brought to her.

Good Luck Egg (ongoing series)

Jace Targaryen was one of the eldest siblings of his two mothers and when he found out they would be having yet another child he was both excited and nervous. His baby brother, Egg, would have to navigate life through their crazy family so as any good brother would do he started creating video diaries to give him advice for the future. Based on Good Luck Charlie.

The Dance of the Dragon and the Tower (finished one shot)

The Queen appears in a shocking green dress and the Princess seems to feel a certain way about it.

We Always Burn (finished one shot)

Rhaenyra Targaryen is sure she knows what she wants until it comes crashing down after an encounter on the beach of Driftmark.

When the World is Ending (finished one shot)

In a post-Zombie Apocalyptic world, Rhaenyra ventures to find a compound and the one within it.

Aegon the 3rd x Jaehaera fanfics

Night Talks (finished one shot)

Jaehaera awakes to find her husband gone from their bed, she finds him and they share a moment where they believe just maybe things will be alright.

Just a Man (finished one shot)

When Aegon falters his queen is always there by his side.

A Small Piece (finished one shot)

Jaehaera wonders if her husband loves her, and his response surprises her.

A Question (finished one shot)

Jaehaera asks her husband a question that brings up old feelings.

Non-Pairing fics

The Bastard Boy of Dragonstone (ongoing series)

A boy from Dragonstone claims a dragon and to keep things hidden Viserys legitimatizes him as a Targaryen. However, no one knows who this boy is or what his intentions are.

A Welcome to Dorne (finished one shot)

Meria Martell greets Rhaenys Targaryen when she lands in Dorne.

Long Live the King (finished one shot)

King Viserys the 1st was found murdered in chambers, while there were many theories no one truly knows what occurred that dark night. Inspired by Murder on the Orient Express.

Mercy (finished one shot)

Daeron Targaryen receives news about his nephew Maelor from Bitterbridge.

Credit to @moonshine999 for the mood boards/dividers. Also, check out my AO3 :)

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon XI - Freedom.

Summary:

The Lost dragon finds his way home.

Warning(s): Childbirth, Dragons, Reunion, Fluff, Kissing, Language, Anger, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut - Oral Sex (F Recieving), P in V.

*Features a Time Skip*

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5523

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

As Vaelys cried out in agony, her voice piercing the air with the intensity of her pain, Vermithor, let out a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of Dragonstone. His mighty roar seemed to echo the anguish of his rider, a primal cry that reverberated through the castle walls.

“Aemond” begged Vaelys her voice filled with desperation and longing. She knew he couldn't be with her, not now, not while he was in exile but still, she couldn't help but yearn for his presence, his strength, his love.

Rhaenyra and Helaena exchanged worried glances, their hearts breaking for Vaelys in her moment of need.

“I want AEMOND” screamed Vaelys, as she clutched at the sheets beneath her with white-knuckled fists, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she fought against the agony that threatened to overwhelm her.

The sound of Vermithor's roar filled the birthing chamber, drowning out all other noise with its raw power and intensity. It was a sound born of empathy and solidarity, a testament to the bond that existed between dragon and rider.

Helaena knelt beside Vaelys' bed; her touch gentle as she reached out to grasp her hand. There was a warmth in her eyes, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes more than words ever could. In that moment of shared vulnerability, Helaena offered Vaelys the comfort of her presence, a silent reminder that she was not alone in her struggle.

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra stood on the other side of the bed, taking Vaelys' other hand in hers. Her touch was firm yet gentle, a grounding force amidst the storm of emotions that raged within her daughter's heart.

"You are stronger than you know, my dear," Rhaenyra said, her voice filled with conviction. "It might not seem like it now, but you can do this. You have the strength and the courage to face whatever comes your way."

"Aemond should be here," she sobbed, her words choked with anguish. "I need him-I can't do this without him."

The weight of her longing bore down on her, the absence of her beloved husband a gaping wound in her heart. Each wave of pain only served to amplify her yearning for his presence, for his strength, for his love.

"He should be the one holding my hand” cried Vaelys.

Rhaenyra clasped her daughter’s hand tighter, but her gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the confines of the birthing chamber. There was a tension in her posture, a guardedness in her demeanour, as if she held secrets too weighty to share.

"I know how much you long for Aemond to be here with you in this moment. He would give anything to be by your side, to share in the joy and pain of bringing new life into this world, and even though he can't be here physically, his love for you knows no bounds. He carries you in his heart, just as you carry him in yours” said Helaena, her words carrying a soothing warmth.

"Now I need you to focus your strength, Princess” urged Maester Gerardys, his voice a steady anchor amidst the tumult of emotions that swirled around them. "It's time. I need you to push."

With a guttural scream that echoed through the chamber, Vaelys pushed with all her might, her muscles straining against the weight of her labour. The roars of Vermithor outside grew louder and more intense, as if echoing the pain and determination coursing through her veins.

Helaena held tightly to Vaelys' hand, her own fingers trembling with emotion as she offered silent strength and support. Rhaenyra leaned in close, pressing gentle kisses to Vaelys' furrowed brow, her words of encouragement lost amidst the cacophony of noise.

The sheets beneath Vaelys were stained with blood, a stark reminder of the battle being waged within her body. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, every fibre of her being screaming for respite. But still, she pushed, drawing upon a wellspring of inner strength she never knew she possessed.

And then, with one final, push, the babe emerged into the world, a tiny, wailing bundle of life. Vaelys collapsed back against the pillows, her chest heaving with exertion, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks.

Helaena's eyes widened in awe, Rhaenyra's breath caught in her throat, and even Vermithor's roars seemed to falter in the presence of the miracle before them.

"It's a boy," Maester Gerardys announced, his voice filled with wonder as he cradled the newborn in his arms.

As Vaelys gazed upon her son for the first time, a rush of emotion flooded her heart as she whispered, her voice barely a breath, "A son, Aemond-we have a son."

The babe was a vision of beauty, with silver hair that shimmered in the faint light of the birthing chamber and eyes the colour of amethyst, mirroring that of his father. In that moment, he looked the very image of Aemond.

As Rhaenyra and Helaena gathered around Vaelys and her newborn son, their hearts overflowing with love and joy, they knew that their family was forever changed. For in the face of new life, hope blossomed anew, filling the chamber with the promise of a brighter future for them all.

Rhaenyra's eyes shimmered with pride and joy as she looked down at her grandson cradled in her daughter’s arms.

"What are you going to call him?" she asked, her excitement palpable.

Vaelys' smile widened as she gazed upon her newborn son, her heart overflowing with love. "Daevyn," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "It means freedom”.

The significance of the name was not lost on Helaena, who shared a knowing glance with Vaelys. Daevyn was the name that Aemond had chosen for a son before Sovia was born, he saw it as s symbol of hope and resilience.

Helaena's smile grew as she reached out to gently caress her nephew's cheek. "Prince Daevyn Targaryen," she declared proudly, her voice filled with pride.

Sovia, with her bright eyes and messy silver curls, toddled into the room, her tiny hand gripping a plush dragon toy tightly. She paused in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the bundle nestled in her mother's arms.

"Sweet girl," Vaelys whispered, her voice soft with affection, as she gestured for Sovia to come closer.

With cautious steps, Sovia approached her mother and the newborn babe, her curiosity piqued. She reached out a chubby hand, her fingers gently brushing against Daevyn's tiny fist.

Daevyn stirred at the touch, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal bright, amethyst eyes that mirrored Sovia's own. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he gazed up at his sister with wonder.

Sovia's face lit up with a radiant smile as she giggled with delight, her laughter filling the room like a melody. She leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Daevyn's forehead before settling down beside her mother to admire her new baby brother.

Vaelys' heart clenched with a mixture of longing and sorrow. She cradled Daevyn closer to her chest, her thoughts drifting to Aemond, who was still far away in exile.

In that bittersweet moment, Vaelys couldn't help but wonder if Aemond felt the same ache in his heart, the same longing to be with his family. She whispered a silent prayer, wishing for their reunion to come swiftly so they could share in the joys of parenthood together.

Vaelys walked along the sun-kissed shores of Dragonstone, the soft sand beneath her feet yielding with each step. Daevyn nestled snugly against her chest in a sling of cloth, his tiny breaths warming her skin with each exhale. Beside her, Sovia skipped along, her hand clasped tightly in hers, their footsteps leaving imprints in the sand.

Helaena strolled beside them, her three children darting ahead, their laughter mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves. Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor chased each other along the shoreline, their playful antics painting the air with joy.

Behind them, Daeron kept a watchful eye, smiling as he observed his nieces and nephews.

As Sovia giggled and darted off to join her cousins in their playful chase along the shoreline, Vaelys couldn't help but pause for a moment, her gaze drifting across the vast expanse of the sea. A pang of longing tugged at her heart as she wondered quietly to herself: Is Aemond okay?

Sensing her turmoil, Helaena stepped closer, her presence a comforting anchor amidst Vaelys' inner turmoil. With a gentle touch, she wrapped an arm around Vaelys' shoulders, offering silent solace and reassurance.

"He's okay, Vaelys," Helaena murmured softly, her voice carrying the weight of conviction. "Aemond is strong, and he will come home to you".

Vaelys drew a shaky breath, her worries momentarily eased by Helaena's words of comfort. She leaned into her good sister's embrace, finding solace in the warmth of her presence.

Vaelys turned around and a flicker of panic shot through her chest at the sudden absence of Sovia. She scanned the beach frantically, her eyes darting from one spot to another, searching for any sign of her daughter amidst the swirling chaos of laughter and waves.

"Sovia?" she called out, her voice trembling with worry, the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.

Vaelys' heart pounded in her chest as she rushed over to Daeron, desperation etched into every line of her face.

"Daeron, where is she?" she demanded, her voice tinged with fear.

Daeron's expression mirrored her concern as he met her gaze, his eyes scanning the beach in search of any sign of Sovia.

"I... I took my eyes off her for just a second," he admitted, his voice filled with regret. "I didn't see where she went."

A surge of panic washed over Vaelys as she processed Daeron's words. She clutched Daevyn closer to her chest, her heart racing with fear for her missing daughter.

“Silver and wing, together the two will sing, an egg for a King” muttered Helaena her voice carrying a cryptic note that gave Vaelys pause.

Before Vaelys could question her further, a sudden roar pierced the air, reverberating through the surroundings with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

Their attention snapped to the source of the sound, their eyes widening in awe as a shadow passed overhead. Against the backdrop of the sky, the silhouette of a dragon emerged.

“Silverwing” exclaimed Vaelys her heart skipping a beat as she watched the beautiful silver dragon land on the beach with a thud.

But her wonder quickly turned to panic as she heard Sovia's giggles nearby.

"Sovia!" Vaelys cried out, her voice tinged with fear as she saw her daughter toddling toward the dragon, her tiny hand outstretched in curiosity.

Fear gripped Vaelys' heart as she raced forward, her maternal instincts urging her to protect her child. But to her astonishment, Silverwing lowered her head with a gentle grace, her eyes shimmering with warmth and affection as she regarded Sovia.

A sense of wonder washed over Vaelys as she watched the unlikely encounter unfold before her eyes. With cautious steps, Sovia approached the dragon, her laughter filling the air with joy as she reached out to touch Silverwing's scaled snout.

To Vaelys' astonishment, Silverwing responded with an affectionate purr, her massive head nuzzling against Sovia's tiny hand with a gentleness that belied her formidable size.

"I guess Silverwing has found her rider,” remarked Daeron quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and admiration.

"She's not even two name days old," Vaelys murmured, her voice tinged with wonder as she watched Sovia interact with the majestic creature before her.

In Sovia's innocent laughter and Silverwing's gentle purrs, Vaelys saw the undeniable proof of a bond being formed.

Daeron's laughter rang out across the beach, a buoyant and infectious sound that filled the air with mirth and warmth.

"Imagine Aemond's face when he comes back and discovers that his daughter is the youngest Targaryen in our history to ever claim a full-grown dragon," he exclaimed, his voice laced with amusement. "The guy is going to be so insufferable!"

Vaelys couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, the image of Aemond's proud and boastful demeanour bringing a smile to her lips. She could already picture the gleam of pride in his eye as he regaled anyone who would listen with tales of Sovia's remarkable feat.

Vaelys' gaze shifted to Vermithor, who lay basking in the warmth of the sun, his massive form sprawled out lazily on the sand. With a hint of playful sarcasm, she addressed the dragon.

"Thanks for all your help," she remarked dryly, her tone tinged with amusement.

Vermithor, sensing the sarcasm in her words, cracked open one eye, and let out a low, rumbling huff in response, as if to say, "She’s fine."

Vaelys couldn't help but grin at her dragon's playful reaction, a sense of camaraderie passing between them.

Vaelys turned to Helaena, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she thought of her newborn son. "Sovia has her dragon now, but what about Daevyn?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with worry.

Helaena smiled reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on Vaelys' shoulder. "Don't worry, Vaelys," she said gently. "Daevyn will have his dragon soon enough."

Vaelys nodded, her heart eased by Helaena's words. She knew that in time, Daevyn would find his own companion, a dragon to call his own. With a grateful smile, Vaelys turned her gaze back to Sovia and Silverwing, feeling a sense of peace wash over her as she watched them play together on the beach of Dragonstone.

The wind rushed past Vaelys' face as Vermithor soared through the skies, his powerful wings beating rhythmically against the currents. With Sovia securely fastened in the saddle in front of her and Daevyn strapped to her back, Vaelys felt a sense of exhilaration coursing through her veins as she flew with her children.

Beside them, Silverwing and Sapphyre soared gracefully, their scales gleaming in the sunlight as they danced through the clouds. Sovia, almost three years old now, squealed with delight, her laughter echoing through the air as she reached out to touch the sky.

"Look, Mama, look!" Sovia exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she pointed to the world below.

Vaelys couldn't help but smile at her daughter's infectious joy, her heart swelling with pride at the sight of her children flying alongside her. Daevyn, just fifteen moons old, gazed wide-eyed at the world around him, his tiny fingers grasping at the air in excitement.

As the winds carried them higher into the clouds, Vaelys couldn't shake the memory of Helaena's comforting words. "Daevyn will have his dragon soon enough," a promise of hope and possibility that lingered in Vaelys' mind.

It wasn't long after that when Silverwing laid a clutch of eggs, each one a shimmering promise of new life. Among them was a single egg, chosen by some unspoken instinct, to be placed in Daevyn's cradle.

Days passed, marked by anticipation, for the egg to hatch. And then, one morning, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, the egg cracked open.

A dragon of silver and blue emerged from the shell, its scales gleaming in the early light as it stretched its wings and let out a triumphant roar. The little hatchling, bonding immediately with Daevyn, curling up at his side.

As time passed, Sapphyre grew swiftly, his scales shimmering in the sunlight as he stretched his wings and tested his strength. Despite his youth, he was already a good size for his age, his lithe form exuding a sense of grace and power that contradicted his tender years.

With each passing day, Vaelys watched with pride as Sapphyre honed his skills, his flights becoming more confident and his movements more fluid. He soared through the skies alongside his mother, Silverwing and Vermithor.

Together, the three dragons danced through the clouds, their wings beating in perfect harmony as they embraced the freedom of the open sky. And as they flew, Vaelys felt a sense of wonder wash over her, grateful for the beauty and magic of the dragons.

Vaelys stood on the sandy shores of Dragonstone, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. As she waited for Aemond's return, her mind drifted back to the night before he left, their final moments together etched into her memory.

"Meet me on the beach of Dragonstone," he had said, his voice filled with determination and longing.

In that moment, Vaelys had promised herself that she would wait for him, no matter how long it took. But now, as she stood there, the weight of uncertainty pressed down upon her, her thoughts swirling with doubts and fears.

What if Aemond didn't come? What if the two years apart had changed him, irrevocably altering the bond they shared?

The air seemed to grow heavy with her doubts, the silence stretching out before her like an endless abyss. But just as her fears threatened to consume her, a deafening roar shattered the stillness, echoing through the air with a force that sent shivers down her spine.

And then, Vhagar descended through the clouds, her majestic form cutting through the sky with a grace that defied description. In that moment, all of Vaelys' doubts melted away, replaced by a surge of hope and longing that burned brighter than the sun itself.

With tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, Vaelys watched as Vhagar landed on the beach.

Aemond began his descent down the rope ladder, his movements eager and impatient. But halfway down, his haste overtook him, and with a determined glint in his eye, he let go of the ladder and leapt down onto the soft sand below.

Vaelys stood there, stunned by the sight of her husband, his features etched with determination and longing. In the two years they'd been apart. Aemond had grown even more handsome, his sharp features softened by the warmth of his smile.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Vaelys drank in the sight of him, her heart overflowing with love and longing. And as Aemond approached her with outstretched arms, she felt a surge of joy wash over her, and with a cry of joy, Vaelys sprinted across the sand toward Aemond, her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. As she reached him, she leaped into his arms, her laughter mingling with his as they tumbled into the soft embrace of the sand below.

Giggling uncontrollably, Vaelys peppered kisses all over Aemond's face, her lips finding his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose in a flurry of affection and adoration. With each kiss, she felt the weight of their separation lift from her shoulders, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for the man who held her heart.

Aemond wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they lay entwined in the sand, their laughter echoing across the beach.

Aemond's voice trembled with emotion as he spoke, his eye searching Vaelys' face for reassurance. "I was worried you wouldn't be waiting for me," he confessed, his words heavy with the weight of his fears. "That the years apart would mean you no longer loved me, that you had taken another husband-"

But Vaelys shook her head, her eyes shining with love and devotion as she reached out to cup his cheek. "It's you, Aemond," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "It's always been you."

With those words hanging in the air between them, Aemond's fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. And as their lips met in a passionate kiss, the world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's embrace, their love stronger than ever before.

"Brother!"

Aemond turned to see Daeron and Helaena hurrying towards them, their faces alight with joy and relief. With a smile spreading across his face, Aemond rose to his feet, pulling Vaelys up beside him as he greeted his siblings.

With open arms, Aemond embraced Daeron and Helaena, pulling them into a tight hug. The warmth of their reunion enveloped them, filling the air with a sense of familial love and unity.

Tears of happiness glistened in Daeron's eyes as he clapped Aemond on the back, his voice thick with emotion. "It's good to have you back, brother," he said, his words echoing the sentiments of everyone present.

Helaena joined in the embrace, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she held her brother close. "We missed you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

With their arms wrapped around each other, the three of them stood together on the beach of Dragonstone, united once more.

As Aemond's gaze scanned the surroundings, his eyes fell upon a small figure standing with Ceci near the steps, a little girl with silver curls cascading down her shoulders. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized her instantly.

"S-Sovia?" Aemond stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His daughter—his precious little girl—stood before him, but she was no longer the baby he remembered. She had grown so much in the two years he had been away, her silver curls just as wild and untamed as ever.

Stunned, Aemond approached her slowly, his steps faltering as he reached out a trembling hand. But Sovia, shy and unsure, backed away, seeking refuge behind Vaelys' protective embrace.

His heart aching with longing, Aemond knelt down before her, his eyes filled with love and longing. "Byka grēges," he whispered softly (Little bug).

At the sound of her father's voice, Sovia's eyes widened in recognition, and then, as if a dam had burst, she uttered a single word that filled Aemond's heart with boundless joy.

"Daddy."

With a cry of delight, Sovia threw herself into Aemond's waiting arms, her laughter ringing out like music on the breeze.

As Aemond basked in the joy of reuniting with Sovia, Vaelys stepped back, allowing father and daughter a few precious moments together. She watched them with a tender smile, her heart swelling with love and gratitude for the sight before her.

But as the moments passed, Vaelys knew it was time to share another precious gift with Aemond—their son, Daevyn. With a gentle nod to Ceci, she took her son into her arms, feeling the weight of his tiny form against her chest.

Taking a deep breath, Vaelys turned to face Aemond, her heart fluttering with nervous anticipation. She could see the stunned expression on his face as his gaze fell upon the boy in her arms.

"I-Is he?" Aemond's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief and wonder.

With a soft smile, Vaelys nodded, her heart overflowing with joy. "Yes," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "This is your son. His name is Daevyn, born nine moons after you left."

As Aemond took in the sight of his son for the first time, his initial shock quickly gave way to a surge of overwhelming emotion. His heart pounded with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his mind struggling to process the revelation before him.

He had a son—a son he never knew existed. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightening, filling him with a sense of betrayal and fury. How could this have happened? How could his wife have given birth to their child without his knowledge?

His anger simmered, threatening to boil over as he grappled with the enormity of the situation. He knew it wasn't Vaelys' fault—she had been left in the dark just as much as he had. But still, the injustice of it all gnawed at him, fuelling the flames of his rage.

His gaze hardened as he turned his thoughts to Rhaenyra, the woman who had sent him away, tearing him from his family and his home. It was her decree that had forced him into exile, robbing him of the chance to witness the birth of his own son.

Bitterness welled up inside him as he thought of the time lost, the moments stolen from him by forces beyond his control. Anguish mingled with fury as he cursed the circumstances that had kept him apart from his loved ones, leaving him to wallow in ignorance while life carried on without him.

"Aemond," she began softly, her voice filled with warmth and compassion, "Would you like to hold Daevyn?"

Aemond's gaze flickered to his son, in Vaelys' arms, his features serene and innocent. For a moment, the storm of anger and resentment that brewed within him threatened to consume him entirely. But then, with a heavy sigh, he nodded silently, his resolve to confront Rhaenyra simmering beneath the surface for the time being.

Wordlessly, Vaelys carefully transferred Daevyn into Aemond's waiting arms, her touch gentle and reassuring. As their son nestled against his chest, Aemond felt a wave of tenderness wash over him, mingling with the anger and frustration that still lingered in his heart.

The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm ambiance over the small dinner gathering, illuminating the faces of those gathered around the table. Vaelys sat at the head, her radiant smile lighting up the room as she doted on their children, Sovia, and Daevyn.

Beside her, Aemond watched with a sense of overwhelming gratitude, his heart swelling with love as he beheld the sight of his family together once more. Daeron sat across from him, a grin on his face as he regaled the table with tales of his time at Old Town and how he once filled Lord Ormund’s boots with manure, his laughter filling the air.

Helaena sat beside her brother, with Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor by her side, their youthful energy adding to the lively atmosphere of the evening. Aemond couldn't help but smile as he watched them interact, their laughter and chatter a soothing melody that filled him with a sense of peace.

As he looked around the table at the faces of those, he loved the most, Aemond felt a surge of contentment wash over him.

He watched as Vaelys tended to their children with a grace and tenderness that took his breath away, her love for them evident in every gesture and smile. In that moment, Aemond fell in love with her all over again, grateful beyond words for the woman who had stood by his side through thick and thin.

As the evening stretched on and the laughter continued to flow, Aemond found himself lost in the warmth of the moment, his anger towards Rhaenyra could wait because he was home at last.

As soon as the door was closed, Aemond was on her, he wrapped his hand around Vaelys’ throat and pressed her against the wall.

“I can’t wait any longer ābrazȳrys, I need to have you” exclaimed Aemond (Wife).

“-Pār gūrogon issa “ replied Vaeryna as Aemond suddenly lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers (Then take me).

Their kiss was rough and desperate. Consisting of teeth and tongue.

It was an eruption of frustration and passion. Hands everywhere, grabbing, scratching, and pulling at one another.

Aemond spun Vaelys around and pressed her face against the wall, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other quickly untying the laces of his breeches.

Gods, he was so fucking hard, he'd been hard the moment he saw his wife again, and in truth if Daeron and Helaena hadn't of been there, he would have fucked Vaelys in the sand.

Aemond nudged her ankle with his foot, signalling for her to open her legs wider.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Vaelys moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

“Two years-two fucking years I’ve waited-“ growled Aemond.

“Kostilus” begged Vaelys (Please).

"Two years with nothing but my own hand-I fucked my fist everynight, thinking of you"

Aemond pulled up his wife’s skirts and slipped his fingers into her small clothes.

“Fuck” moaned Aemond, gods she was so wet that he almost spilled in his breeches.

Aemond ran his hand up and down the hard length of himself, eyeing his wife with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she bent forward for him.

He pulls aside her small clothes as he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her.

“THAT’S IT!” groaned Aemond.

Vaelys couldn’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts, Aemond set a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers, his hard cock reaching deep inside her.

Then he withdrew from her and span her around, lifting her into his arms, his mouth pressed against hers as he quickly sheathed himself back inside her.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Vaelys.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

He withdraws from her again, making her whimper in frustration.

But Aemond ignored her as he laid her on the chaise lounge and fell to his knees.

Sliding his calloused hands up her legs, bunching the fabric of her small clothes in his hand before he rips them from her body.

“Aemond” shrieked Vaelys as Aemond’s mouth descends on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into his wife’s core with his tongue, in and out, much faster than his cock ever could.

Still gasping, Vaelys clutched at his head with one hand, her other digging into the fabric of the chaise.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Vaelys ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

Aemond growled, deep in his throat. The vibration of his vocal cords rippled through to his tongue and Vaelys gasped; she felt every vibration keenly. Her body tensed for her peak– But Aemond pulled away from her and smirked, his chin shining with her slick.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaelys, the tears of frustration spilling down her cheeks.

“Be a good little wife and take what your husband gives you” said Aemond as he reached for the laces of her dress before he grew impatient and tore it from her body, leaving her body bare before him.

His own hands moving to his own breeches and shirt, removing them as quick as he could before he surged forward and worshipped his wife’s breasts. His tongue licking at the stiffened rosy peaks

“P-Please. Husband” sobbed Vaelys as she felt his hard cock sliding against her folds.

“Hmm” growled Aemond as he wrapped his hand around his wife’s throat and sheathed himself inside her once more.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Vaelys.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance. He marvelled at her body. Such a beautiful, succulent thing his wife was. Allowing him entry into the most sacred parts of her body.

Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, his fingers digging into the flesh of her throat, using her as leverage as he repeatedly plunged his cock into her cunny, over, thrilled to hear Vaelys’ moans of need echoing around their chambers.

His thrusts, brutal and unrelenting.

“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond.

Vaelys screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

Gods, he needed to spill his seed, but not like this.

So, with his cock still nestled inside her, Aemond manoeuvred himself into a sitting position with Vaelys on his lap.

“Give me another-I want you to come on my cock again” growled Aemond.

Vaelys ran her hands over the defined muscles of his chest, her nails digging into his pale skin.

“Oh” gasped Vaelys as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”.

Aemond placed his hands on Vaelys’ hips and marvelled at his wife as she rode him.

Vaelys dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Vaelys as he moved his hand to her breasts and once again took one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention as the other.

Vaelys’ thighs began to burn, as she felt her second peak approach.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelys her vision going white as she came around his cock.

 “God. Vaelys” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside her, collapsing against the chaise, breathing hard.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses. Meanwhile his wife had collapsed against him, her face pressed into his neck.

"Rest a while ābrazȳrys and I shall have you again-we've got two years to make up for" rasped Aemond (Wife).

[piinkyypriincess]

SWEET SUMMER ORANGE

Targaryen Dynasty x Fem!Teen!OC

"Green must find her way to orange, or all is lost. The dragons will dance and die, surrounded by fire and blood.”

Multiple Main Pairings!

Main Focus ~ Fem!OC and Targaryen Dynasty (Yandere, Obsessive, Protective)

Warnings ~ Nostalgia, Heartbreak, Anger, Alicents Person Feelings of Rhaenyra, and Denial.

Spoilers ~ Tons!!

Masterpost ~ Here.

Beta Read/Edited ~ No (No Beta Lmao)

Word Count ~ 2k Words.

Chp Summary ~ Alicent tries to eat lemon cakes on her own to quell her sadness after speaking to her father. Vhagarhā Qo, who perfers oranges, is a child unlike any other the Queen has ever met, but she reminds Alicent of all her children; as if she mourns the idea of who they were and cannot fathom who they are now.

Chp 3 ~ Sweet Orange Tart, Sour Lemon Cake, Bitter Apple Turnover

Alicent had grown to enjoy the smell of lemon cake in her youth.

Now looking down at the sweet treat displayed on top of the serving table, Alicent breathed in the sweet citrus smell and refrained from gagging.

It was too sweet, not enough lemon present; the recipe had changed. Alicent favored granny smith apple turnovers, the bitter apple pleasant to her taste buds.

What followed in the wake of lemon cake at the red keep was what she really enjoyed.

The smell of wooden fire and sweet lemon followed the air wherever Rhaenyra Targaryen walked. None knew that the Princess had a breeze of brimstone on her skin after a day of dragon riding.

Alicent knew as the Princess curled under her arm and in her lap when they were frolicking kids in the Keep.

Meeting Rhaenyra had been the downfall of Alicent's life.

The Princess had involved her deeper into politics by proxy of her company, and Alicent resented the fact the Princess betrayed her trust.

That is why they do not speak, that is why Rhaenyra left Kings Landing to live at Dragonstone with her cowardly ways.

Picking up a lemon cake, she placed it over a small glass serving plate and bit in.

The crunch of the candied lemon on top invited her with a sweet tang; the sweetness being followed by an even sweeter soft cake that had icing dribbled on top.

The lemon cake was sweet by itself naturally. Alicent realized what was off, the candied lemon was too thick with melted sugar and it was canceling the natural sourness.

“They are quite sweet aren't they, Queen Alicent?” Alicent whirls around, her plate still in hand and lemon cake shifting with the haste of Alicent's movements.

The newcomer had a sweet bell-like voice that reminded Alicent of Helaena when she was younger.

The shy kindness is all Aemond – before the incident however. Alicent clears her head of the thoughts.

The Queen's hazel-green eyes first catch the ginger-orange of the girl's hair.

The boldly colored hair is thick like a Velaryon's. The Queen can tell despite the corkscrew curls being slicked back into a neat bun at the back of the girl's head.

Curls spill outside the bun elegantly as there are autumn-colored faux flower hairpins inside of her tresses.

The next thing the Queen notices is an expensive-looking gold circlet that wraps around the child's head.

The design is simple with a small gemstone that rests in the middle of the child's forehead.

A sign of royalty.

Alicent squints her eyes at the gem, the pink teardrop shaped stone glittering in the sunlight.

“Yes, Indeed. And you might be?” Alicent places her plate down on a space the serving table has.

She clasps her hands in front of herself as she takes in the child's brightly colored gown, trying to associate her with a region.

“Princess Vhagarhā Qo, of The Sweet Lotus Vale in Jhala,” The girl bows her head and curtseys to the Queen.

Alicent curtseys back out of respect.

She swallows a bit of her pride.

Alicent Hightower studied like no other within the Keep, always staying up to read her books and retain knowledge.

Alicent shakes away a memory of a blonde that comes to her mind, and covers it up with a tilt of her head.

She'd never heard of the Summers Isles before.

Alicent licks the bottom of her lip quickly as she attempts to store away and make note of the exotic name.

It sounded traditionally Valerian, with a twist of words at the end.

The girl's accent sounded like liquid amber; smooth and sweet as the common tongue escaped her mouth.

“If it pleases you Queen Alicent; you may call me Vhae Summers,” The girl's teeth are an unnaturally blinding white, the viper notices.

Without changing the expression on her face, she scrutinizes the child under her harsh gaze.

The child seemed unnaturally pure, like soft fallen snow that hadn't been stepped on.

Her marmalade colored dress was one of fall, with different brightly colored leaves and flowers stitched into the fine fabric.

Small fake flowers, made up of a sheer material alicent didn't recognize, started from the left side of where her ribs sat to make a sleeve.

The other sleeve was the same way with the sheer fake orange flowers covering her arms but it started from behind her on her back.

The Summers Isle had an elevated taste for fashion beyond anything Alicent had seen or studied.

The child looked truly regal as she stood covered up enough for the fall breeze.

Large golden hooped earrings, thick bangles, chunky rings with colorful gemstones, a gold necklace filled with different cut gems.

Whoever the child was, she came from money beyond Oldtown or the Lannisters.

Alicent quits her staring as she notices the child fiddling with her fingers.

Alicent blinks, rubbing her hands down the sides of her gown.

“Would you like to join me by the weirwood, Princess?” Her hands ball tightly into fists, the words escape her mouth faster than she can think.

She imagined repeating those words to one with silver-white gold hair and deep lilac eyes.

The child has light brown skin, a smooth nutty color with speckles of teak that splattered across her face and hands.

Another happy reaction is pulled from her heart-shaped face, displaying the pink of her gums and joyous smile on her thick lips.

“Of course! I would love to!” The girl's gown flows against the gentle breeze of autumn as she moves to link arms with Alicent.

Alicent blinks again in surprise at the gesture.

She can see a pair of knights at their station start to move before she lifts a hand to beckon them away.

The woman of forty and three shivers at the childish affection, unused to another person initiating wholesome skinship.

Vhae's dress is a long one, the expensive cotton garment brushes the floor with a gentle sway, breathable and moveable.

Swallowing a sigh of anxiousness, Alicent decides to speak first but rethinks her words before she speaks them.

“So Queen Alicent, anything exciting going on in King's Landing this month?” The child's other hand goes to grasp Alicent's hand, free of wounded flesh and cuticles nicely manicured by a servant.

The Summer child's nails are covered in nail varnish, a lively pink, with delicate leaf detailing in multiple different colors.

Alicent thinks to ask the girl of her home country, their fashions quite different from Westeros.

At the darker girl's question, Alicent's mind drifts to the battle of succession that will be held in court soon.

“Well, there is court being held in five days' time. And of course, the ladies of the realm are planning a charity event that will take place here on the twelfth moon,” Alicent's tone is a bore as she recites over the larger events outside of her small council activities.

“Oh, court? How exactly is your court held here? In my country, court is held with the Ladies of Judgement,” Alicent's eyebrows raise as she takes in women having a station of absolute power for themselves.

Clearing her throat she responds to the question diligently, “Here court is held in the Red Keep when lords in higher power petition it so. The King will usually handle such matters but the King is feeling unwell at the moment.”

The girl hums and the pair stop in front of the carved face weirwood.

Breaking away from the Queen's hold that seemingly tightened through their walk, she lifts a hand to the face of the tree hesitantly.

Alicent sees a past memory of Rhaenyra, white long hair staring back at her as she traced the face of the sacred Weirwood.

A flock of servants break her out of her trance as they pass under the open walkway of the gardens.

They bow respectfully with straight faces and go rigid when she lifts her hand for them to stay.

Vhagarhā is circling around the thick white tree, hand tracing the thick bark of the red leafed tree.

The girl has that wide smile again that makes the Green Queen reluctantly grin.

“Fetch us a spread for a picnic,” The Queen demands. She gives the servants a small quirk of a smile as she watches the girl no older than ten and five.

Turning back to the child, she lays backwards with her entire body laying on the lush padded grass. She has no care about her delicate dress getting dirty with Earth.

It reminds her of the young Princess, she reminds her of the young Princess.

Carefree and wild, taking to life like a duck in water or a dragon to fire.

Alicent represses a grimace to give the child a small tight-lipped smile.

Alicents nails start to dig into the flesh of her palms, indenting crescent moons into soft skin.

A hand pulls her out of her thoughts, and she retracts her nails from her flesh.

The Summers Isle child is marveling at the leaves as if it was the first time she's seen them before.

Only then does Alicent notice it.

She casts a glance at the child's eyes and catches a glimpse of purple.

Vhagarhā looks up at Alicent, her irises shining a pale lilac purple, almost white as if she were blind.

Near the child's pupils, a molten orange color swirls against her slitted purple, similar to a beasts.

Alicents eyes go wide, and she squeezes the foreign girl's hand in a panic; accidentally catching her attention.

“Oh, I do hope you guys have orange tarts! They are one of my favorite pastries,” She remarks with a questioning look on her face.

Rocking forward on the tips of her heels excitedly, she averts her gaze to the plethora of servants who lay out a picnic sheet and baskets of food.

The Green Queen goes steady, fear ebbing away from her as she analyzes the child's features once more.

Copper-orange hair with strings of white diamond laced between the curls, a trait of Old Valarian blood.

A button nose, small, but ethnic like a Velaryon's.

Her skin is a shade lighter than Laenors, a red undertone to the brown skin and freckles spread out all over her face.

A oval heart shaped face, similar to a celtigar, but with more fat on her cheeks rather than sharp and hollow.

Lilac swirling eyes with hints of coral and slitted pupils similar to a – Dragon.

Alicent knew nothing of the Summers Isles – but this child was special.

Vhagarhā didn't resemble Rhaenyra, she even didn't look like any Valyrian Alicent had ever seen.

Vhagarhā Qo is positively a stunning child.

One with features she cannot match to any region but of Old Valerian blood beyond the Targaryens.

Alicent wants to rip her hand away, and walk back to her solar but – Vhagarhā gives her a smile that brightens up the Keep, despite the sun out in full effect.

Vhagarhā is not Rhaenyra or one of her brood, she's a foreign child for the Sevens sake.

Vhagarhā was unnaturally stunning, but didnt have the sharp features of a Targaryen besides her eyes.

She was soft, pure.

Even with the eyes of a Dragon hidden within her pupils, her eyes were wide and inviting.

Alicent thought that she would always resent the classic aristocratic look of a Targaryen.

The purple eyes, and majestically stunning features beyond human understanding.

She thought she hated them, but that hate melted into sorrow when she saw her children's faces.

The child's soft way of speaking reminds her of Aemond as a child – sweet and kind before he lost his eye.

Her smile reminds Alicent of Aegon's previous sunny spirit before he drowned in his cups.

Her fascination is a mirror of Helaena as she discovers a new insect; before her nightmares and flinching away.

Alicent cannot even try and sic a trait of Daeron onto the child; she hardly remembers his face before he was whisked away from her to Oldtown.

Alicent didn't know this, but she needed someone to just be around. She was lonely even in the presence of her children – regardless If she made them turn out mad.

She didn't think so though, she was just ensuring their safety.

Any thought of that white haired lier makes Alicents stomach turn sick and her heart pound ferociously.

For the first time in many years, Alicent smiles, huffing out a laugh, “Of course sweetling, we have plenty.”