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targs-on-zorses · 2 months

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Sweet Favours

Pairing - Gwayne Hightower/Lady-in-Waiting!Reader Warnings - Nice, hot smut, mild choking, fingering, some riding, gwayne being cocky, a little bit of fluff, tourneys and jousting, a little bit of blood, reader is not described in any detail other than being of House Mullendore of Uplands Summary - “If I might request a favour, my lady.” “Hmm, and what sort of favour would that be, good knight.” “Mayhaps, a sweet kiss from those lovely lips, dear lady.” Word count: 4732

A/N - Wow. I genuinly cannot believe I have finished this. I started it not long after Ser Gwayne Hightower graced our screens, and it is now, what? two? three weeks later? I would like to thank my hype-people: @thenameswinter99 whose reactions to my tiny excerpts made my day, @barbieaemond, Liv my partner in crime who has assisted in fanning the flames with this fic, and @just-some-random-blogger. We will continue to torture you with gifs. Accept it. This is your life now. And also to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for beta reading. Dividers are mine own. It is possible there will be a part 2. (the fic will be up on AO3 shortly. Use the link in my masterlist)

Good weather for a tourney, you thought. Nary a cloud in the sky, the bright sun beating down on the cobblestone path leading to the arena. The sounds of blades being sharpened and hammers striking on metal. There was a buzz of excitement in the air. It had been some years since Oldtown had hosted a tourney of its own. But now, the seats had been cleaned, the lords box furnished. Bunting linked building to building along the narrow streets of Oldtown.

It had been some years since you, as lady-in-waiting to Lady Lynesse Hightower, had last attended a tourney. You peeked out of the carriage, watching as people streamed towards the arena, some carrying flags in every shape and colour.

A raven had arrived from Kings Landing a month ago, bearing the news that the Queen, Alicent Hightower, cousin of your lord, had given birth to another son, Aemond Targaryen. Lord Ormund had decided to host a tourney in his honour, although none of the royals, nor their immediate vassals, were able to make it.

The carriage stopped at the entrance to the stadium. You stepped out of the carriage, graciously accepting the hand of the squire waiting, lifting your skirts to keep them out of the dirt on the streets. Your lady followed behind you.

A handsome young knight stood at the entrance. You smiled, admiring his pleasant features, the warm blue eyes, the bow shaped lips, soft golden hair.

“Good morrow, cousin,” Lady Hightower greeted.

“Good morrow, my Lady,” the knight responded. “Perfect day for a joust, is it not?”

“It is,” Lady Lynesse concurred. “I wish you luck, good cousin, at the lists.”

“Thank you, my Lady.”

Ser Gwayne bowed, stepping aside to let the lady pass.

As you passed him yourself, curtseying briefly, he put out a hand to stop you.

“A moment, Lady Mullendore.”

You followed him inside, cloistered in a hidden alcove right by the doors.

“If I might request a favour, my Lady.” He had that grin on his face that suggested his thoughts were anything but innocent. Not that the way he said ‘my Lady’ had you thinking innocent thoughts either, as you clenched your thighs together at his words.

“Hmm, and what sort of favour would that be, good knight?” you said, smiling sweetly.

“Mayhaps, a sweet kiss from those lovely lips, dear lady.”

“Oh, you are most bold, good ser,” you giggled, feeling your cheeks redden at his words. And that little smirk that he always seemed to have plastered on his face. Seven save you, you loved that smirk.

A small group of people squeezed past the opening you were concealed in. So you stretched up, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Then you turned away to rejoin your lady.

A hand grasped your arm, pulling you back into the shadows.

“Gwayne!” you chastised. “I must return to my-”

His hand snaked around your waist, tugging you up against his body. A single finger lifted your chin, angling your face towards his, and he stared hungrily at your lips. He bit his lip, moving his hand to grasp your chin, running a thumb over your parted lips.

“Not that sort of kiss,” he whispered, seductively.

Then his lips were on yours. This was no gentle kiss, like the ones exchanged so early in the mornings. Sweet it was not. He pulled your face to his, pushing his tongue into your mouth. His hand tightened at your waist.

Your hands stretched up, tangling themselves in his soft, golden hair. Your heart pounded in time to the movements of his tongue. He tasted of the sweet wine he liked, probably drinking small amounts to calm his nerves before the joust.

He pushed forwards, backing you into a wall, completely devouring your mouth., pressing the evidence of his own arousal into your thigh. A moan escaped you. Seven save you, this kiss…

He pulled away abruptly, swiping his thumb over your lips again before departing with a satisfied smirk on his face.

He vanished so quickly, it took a moment for your body and mind to catch up. You raised a hand to your lips, remembering the passionate way he claimed them.

Voices sounded just outside, and you remembered where you were.

Lady Hightower would be looking for you. You could only pray she had no idea what you had just been doing. You straightened your skirts and hair as best you could, and made your way to the Lords’ box overlooking the arena.

“Where have you been?” she snapped as you hurriedly entered and found your seat.

“My apologies, my lady,” you muttered, but she had already looked away.

You sat in the front row. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, you did not yet know.

From here, you could see everything. You would be able to see if he was hurt. Or killed.

You did not want to dwell on it.

The knights paraded and preened. You knew half of them were not worth the armour they wore.

“The Tyrells sent a measly bunch,” Lady Lynesses muttered to another lady. You did not disagree.

“Hmm, it does not look like we will have much entertainment, my Lady,” another woman said.

You ignored them and watched as the jousts commenced. However, they were not wrong.

In the very first tilt, a young Tyrell squire not only knocked his opponent off his horse, but himself as well. Later, a Blackbar knight cuffed himself round the head with his own mace.

A measly lot indeed.

A brief lunch of venison was served. No sign of any of those veteran knights yet, though.

By the afternoon, you were bored. The morning had been relatively uneventful, lunch equally so. You were eager for the new round of tilts to begin. And to see who would be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty.

A few unimpressive knights rode out, bashing each other.

Finally, he rode out, sat proud atop that big black horse of his. His helmet was off, tucked under his arm, letting his golden hair shine in the sunlight. He held his lance in the other hand, meaning all that kept him on that horse were those strong thighs of his. You flushed, thinking of how it felt to have those thighs under you as you rode him into oblivion.

He rode twice around the arena, scanning the crowds. His eyes searched for you. Finally, he stopped in front of the box, beckoning you over with a movement of his head. You stood to lean against the barrier keeping you from falling onto the sand below.

“May I ask that you grant me your favour, Lady Mullendore?” he said, a graceful smile dancing across his face. You did not see the sour look Lady Hightower directed at you.

“Unfortunately, good ser, my favour is only given to those who will win,” you teased.

“Then I suppose it is a good thing I will win this tourney, then, my Lady,” he assured.

You giggled, taking your favour from the arm of your chair. He tilted his lance towards you and you dropped the favour along its length. He nodded his head in thanks and rode off again.

He prepared himself for the first tilt, putting on his silly helmet - you always giggled when he wore it.

His opponent prepared himself similarly, some knight of House Florent. A cousin, perhaps?

You held your breath as they charged towards each other. You knew Gwayne had been injured previously in jousts. He was well now, but still, you worried.

You wanted to look away, but you could not tear your gaze away from these two men, charging towards each other, lances held at the ready.

There was a crack, and the Florent knight went flying off his horse, landing with his legs at strange angles on the ground.

Gwayne rode a victory lap as the young knight was carried off to the maester’s tent.

As his next opponent struggled to get on his horse, Gwayne nodded to you, promising you victory.

He unhorsed every opponent he faced with practised ease. Downing the ones that dared to try for victory on the ground. He certainly was bashed a few times, almost, almost, downed from his horse at others. But today it seemed the Gods themselves too had blessed him with their favour.

The final tilt, however, you would deny you were terrified. For now he faced your own uncle, Ser Paxton Mullendore, a hardened veteran of many a battle and many a tourney. In fact, he was near undefeated, and would tell anyone who would listen that the only man to successfully unhorse him had been Daemon Targaryen at the Heirs Tourney some years ago. Gwayne too had been there, and Daemon too had unhorsed him.

Suffice to say, you feared for him.

You could see Ser Paxton glaring at him, and the favour on his lance. He knew it was yours, and he was displeased.

Ser Paxton pulled down his visor and charged. Gwayne too. You gripped the hands of your chair tightly, hardly daring to breathe.

The crash of lance on shield. Gwayne barely clung to his horse, his lance in pieces.

They went in for a second charge.

Another crash.

This time it was Ser Paxton who fell. He immediately called for his sword. His pride would not allow Gwayne to win so easily. In fact, he often boasted of how he was better with his sword than atop a horse. Ser Paxton wielded a mighty mace, the sort of one you had seen bend swords and smash armour such that it looked as though a dragon had landed on their chests.

You clung tighter to the decorative arms of your chair, eyes wide and fearful.

Gwayne did not notice, still holding his shield, arms wide and savouring his victory.

Paxton swung his mace.

“Gwayne!” you screamed. He turned to find a mace flying towards his head and ducked at the last moment.

Your relief was short-lived, as Paxton swung again, shattering Gwayne’s shield to splinters, your brave knight falling to the floor.

He dodged again and again, crawling towards the wooden barrier in the middle.

As Paxton smashed through the fence, Gwayne stuck his foot out, tripping up the large, mace-wielding man.

Ser Paxton fell to the ground unmoving. You gasped, staring in horror even as the crowd cheered. Even Gwayne was concerned, his fingers digging through the neck piece, trying to find a pulse.

Suddenly, Paxton jerked, sitting up. You breathed a sigh of relief. He and Gwayne seemed to talk for a moment before the latter pulled the former to his feet.

You smiled and clapped, overjoyed that both were alive.

Gwayne helped your uncle to the maesters, before mounting his horse once again for a victory lap. He was handed back his lance, now adorned with the wreath of yellow roses, the colours of House of Tyrell, their overlords.

He galloped twice around again, the ladies whispering to themselves, “Who will he choose?” He finally stopped in front of you, angling his lance such that the wreath slid down into your lap.

Suddenly, every eye was on you. Murmurs spread around the stadium. Gwayne still sat atop his horse below you, giving a gentle smile and an encouraging nod.

You ignored the hiss of displeasure from Lady Hightower, and raised the flower crown, placing it on your head. The crowd cheered and clapped, and Ser Gwayne bowed before riding away to have his own wounds seen to.

The tourney over, the audience gathered themselves and prepared to leave.

You rushed off, partly to avoid whatever withering words the other ladies-in-waiting had to say to you, but mostly to avoid the wrath of Lady Lynesse Hightower. The look on her face as you had been crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty was one you hoped to never see again.

You had arrived in Oldtown at ten, ready to serve Lady Lynesse as a lady-in-waiting. But from the moment you were introduced to her by your father, Lord Mullendore, she had shown nothing but contempt that bordered on hatred for you.

When your father presented you, she had her nose up at you and said, “Well, I was not expecting her to be so… plain. I was told you were a great beauty. Perhaps you will grow into one.”

But, according to her, you could do nothing right. In the halls of the Hightower, you were alone and friendless. The other ladies followed Lynesse’ lead and scorned you. You missed your home, Uplands. You missed your family, your father, your mother, your brothers, and uncle Paxton, although he visited often. You sought companionship in the books in Oldtown’s many libraries. You engrossed yourself in the history and giggled as you read books like A Caution for Young Girls as you read it in the privacy of your chambers.

It was when you were eight-and-ten that you attracted the attention of Ser Gwayne Hightower, your Lady’s cousin and the son of King Viserys’ Hand.

Initially, you had waved it off as just some silly pacing fancy, after all, knights had that all the time. After all, as your lady said, cruelly, “What man could possibly want such a plain girl as you?”

But he was honest in his interest, and the two of you began to court, secretly of course. Lady Hightower would have a fit, and she was most fond of suggesting other women for him, though he always refused.

It was on the night of your twentieth name day that he took you into his bed. He was careful, and gentle, and everything you had imagined and more. The both of you knew Lady Hightower would never let you wed, so these stolen, secret moments were all you had.

You loved him, you knew it. How could you not when he was gentle, and kind, and every bit the knight he was painted to be?

What you did not know, however, was if he felt the same about you. He may call you, “my love,” but that was not the same.

You quietly made your way to Gwayne’s chambers. It would not do if you were caught together. Lady Hightower would use it as an excuse to get rid of you. It simply was not worth the same and disgrace that would fall on your family.

Today, he had already gone too far. You intended to tell him as much. Kissing you just before the tourney in an alcove where anyone could’ve peeked in and seen you? Crowning you Queen of Love and Beauty in front of thousands?

Perhaps, though, you would scold him after you lay with him. As dangerous as that kiss was, it had left you unsatisfied and wanting for more. And it would butter him up and make him more agreeable to slowing down.

You walked in, expecting to find the room empty, only to see Gwayne standing with his back to the door, sipping some wine. You spotted his armour peeking out of a chest to the side of the wine table.

He turned as the door closed, his eyes darkening as he beheld the low dress you wore. You had been tugging it down as you made your way here.

He was still wearing his green woollen tunic that he wore under his armour. The buckles were undone, as was the loose linen shirt he wore under that.

He took another sip of wine, tilting his head as he admired you. He placed the glass back on the table, and took a step towards you.

You were withering under his heated gaze, but you stood firm. He liked to tease. Now it was your turn.

“I was going to wait for you,” you said, the corners of your plush lips lifting flirtatiously. “I was thinking I’d lay naked in your bed.”

Gwayne smirked. “Such a shame, then, that I’m already here. It would have been a most delectable sight to behold.”

That way he said delectable, pronouncing every syllable, had you biting your lip an effort not to moan. A wave of need coursed through you..

He stepped towards you again, still giving you that smirk that made you want to rip your clothes off and let him give you exactly what you longed for.

“Perhaps I’ll leave and come back later, leave early from the feast,” you whispered, all desire to tease rushing out of you. You did not know how much longer you could keep this up.

“It would be a shame if you had to walk all the way back down, leaving me here alone and wanting for you,” he rasped, his voice going deep with desire.

“Like the way you left me earlier.” You tried not to moan as you felt his breath on your neck.

“Would you touch yourself while naked in my bed?” he hummed, a hand ghosting over your cheek. “Would you pleasure yourself, imagining that it was my cock that brought you to peak?”

You no longer knew words. Seven save you from this man and his vile tongue that made you feel nothing but insatiable lust.

“And would I then arrive, finding you covered in a sheen of sweat, and then would I plunge myself inside your sweet cunt until the only thing you can remember is my name?”

You let out a whine at his words. He teased you relentlessly, barely touching you. You reached out to grasp his solid arms, trying to pull him closer. You wanted him to touch you, badly.

“Gwayne,” you whine, the heated tension becoming unbearable.

“Yes, sweet lady?” he says, licking his lips. “Is it all too much, this teasing? Not unlike the way you have teased me all day wearing a dress such as this.” He tugs on the laces on the front of your dress making you gasp. “What is it, my love?” he says as he ghosts his lips over your neck again. You let out an aching whine. You were desperate for him to do anything, anything but keep on talking. “What? You want me to stop?” he says. Yes. You wanted him to stop teasing you with his filthy words. You wanted him to push you on his bed and strip you of your restrictive clothing. You wanted him to fuck you mercilessly until all you know is his cock. He chuckled darkly, seeing your pained expression. “Look at you, so needy.” You whimpered again. He finished unlacing your gown, finding you wearing no corset or smallclothes underneath it. You gulped, feeling the sensitive tips of your breasts brush against the cloth of your dress with every breath. “Oh, you naughty lady, wearing nothing under such a dress.”

You give up. You can’t take it anymore. You need to touch him. You need him to touch you. You grab his face between your hands and pull it to yours. The kiss is messy and filthy, and oh so terribly brief. He pushed you off him, holding your face between his hands, panting just as wildly as you. You whined desperately, straining to pull him back

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he growled.

Then he pounced. He tore the dress off your shoulder letting your breasts free. He gripped your face and pulled your lips back together. He shoved his tongue into your mouth, hot and wet. You shimmied out of your dress, leaving yourself bare. He cupped his hands around your behind, squeezing as he lifted you up and spread your legs around his waist. You ground against his clothed cock, sighing into his mouth as little sparks of bliss shot through you.

He carried you to the bed, divesting himself of his tunic, still continuing his relentless assault of your mouth. He withdrew gently, a stark contrast to the violent way he had kissed you, resting his forehead on yours.

“Touch me,” you whispered, tugging at his shirt, silently begging him to take it off.

He ignored your tugs, and latched his lips to the peak of your breast, as his hand worked its way between your legs, gently brushing your pearl. You moaned loudly, fingers clenching the silk sheet beneath. His fingers were pure heaven. You pulled again at his shirt, as his fingers entered your cunt, opening you up for him, skillfully brushing the spot inside you that made you keen. You clutched his arms, your nails digging into the flesh leaving angry red marks.

“Fuck, my love, you feel so good and wet,” he panted, trailing hot, wet kisses to your neck. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, sweet lady.”

And you did. You rode them, broken moans and whimpers spilled out of you. Your peak washed over you quickly, his fingers pumping in and out of you, drawing it out.

He didn’t give you long to recover from the intensity of your peak. He allowed you to pull his shirt off, revelling in the pale expanse of muscle, and the few scars that litter his chest and stomach. You pressed a few kisses to the ones on his chest before he pushed you back down and started untying his breeches.

“Keep yourself wet for me, sweet lady. Touch yourself.”

You moaned, doing as he says and letting your fingers gather up the wetness from your centre, preparing yourself for him.

He pushed his breeches down revealing his beautiful cock, hard and red. You took your hand, slick with your juices and pumped him a few times. But when you went to put it inside, he stopped you, sitting up further, leaving his cock far away from where you craved to sheethe it.

“Ah ah ah,” he tutted. “Only good, sweet ladies get to be fucked. Have you been good, sweet lady?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Please, Gwayne, please, I've been good.”

He continued to stroke his cock, right in front of you. You groaned. He so loved to torment you like this. “Have you? Really?”

“I've been good, Ser. Please, let me have your cock, Ser!” You babbled, delirious with need, your hands reaching out for him.

“Hmm, I suppose you have been,” He said, and suddenly leaned forward and slid his cock into your drenched cunt.

You moaned in unison. The walls of your cunt stretched to accommodate him. Gwayne was by no means large, but he always seemed to fill you up perfectly. It was heaven, finally having him inside.

He gave you a moment to adjust, waiting for you to nod that you were comfortable, before he seized a hand, holding it above your head and pounded into you, mercilessly.

Your breasts bounced, brushing your sensitive nipples on his chest. Wanton moans spilled out of you now. Every thrust of his cock hit the perfect spot inside you.

“That's it,” he whispered into your ear, lightly biting the flesh below it. “You feel so good, my dear, squeezing my cock like that.”

All coherent words had left you, and you could only babble in agreement.

“Gods you feel so good, such a sweet, wet little cunt.”

Your moans grew louder, and you clung hard to his shoulders. You probably left nail marks in his back, but you were too lost in your pleasure to care.

The walls of your cunt fluttered, signifying that you were close. Your moans became louder and higher in pitch.

“That's it, sweetness,” Gwayne grunted, shifting so he could watch your face as you came. “Come for me, right on my cock.”

He brought a hand between you, rubbing your pearl.

Your walls clenched around him as you screamed, you back arching.

He wrapped a hand around your neck, holding you down as he fucked you through your peak, his own quickly following as he spilled inside you.

He collapsed on the bed next to you.

You both lay there for a moment, catching your breath. You rolled over to look at him. He never looked more beautiful than he did in this moment. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead and chest. His bow shaped lips were parted. His chest heaved.

You loved him. There was nothing else. You loved how he looked in the moments after.

You lay on your sides, facing each other. Your hands entwined as you stared deep into each other's eyes. His were blue, like the sea, and always glinted with mischief.

“I have something for you,” he rasped. His voice was always delightfully husky after you fucked. You loved it, and the way it left you wanting for more.

“Gwayne,” you sighed, “we can’t.”

This was a rule established early on, no gifts to be exchanged, and today, he’d already broken it, gifting you the flower crown.

“No one will know it was from me,” he insisted. You took one look at his pouty face, his eyes wide and pleading. He knew how to make you melt, and melt you did. He just looked so sad, like a puppy pleading for pets.

“Fine,” you conceded.

He smiled wide, and rolled over to grab something from the bedside table. He brought out a box. It was wide and flat, covered in green leather with silver hinges and clasp.

You sat up a little, leaning on your elbow, and took the box from him.

You opened the box and gasped. Inside was the most exquisite necklace you’d ever seen.

The shape of it reminded you of how the beacon on the Hightower looked when alight. Green emeralds the size of your thumbs arranged in three seven pointed stars connected to a chain of intricate silver swirls. The two stars on either side of the middle contained a ruby at their hearts, while the centre one, and the larger of the three, framed a diamond, larger than any you had ever seen.

“Oh, Gwayne, it’s beautiful.”

He smiled. “Let me help you put it on, my love.”

You turned slightly, lifting your hair as he clasped it around your neck. You turned back to look at him, adjusting the way it lay across your chest.

“Hmm,” he hummed, openly staring at the way the centre charm sat right between your breasts, pointing downwards. “I think I rather like it too.”

You giggled, trying to ignore the heat that spread through your body at his words, and his gaze. You could now understand why it was designed the way it was.

“I think I’d like to fuck you wearing that necklace,” he said. “Hmm, perhaps I’d like you to ride me, so I can watch it bounce on those pretty breasts of yours.”

You bit your lip at his filthy words, heat already pooling in your gut.

He gripped your hips, and you squealed as he lifted you onto his thighs, cock half hard already.

He plunged his hand between your legs, groaning at the feeling of your wetness.

“Ride me, my sweet lady,” he commanded.

You gave his cock a good few pumps, before you sunk down, moaning at the stretch. His hands dug into your hips as you began to move, circling your hips.

You went slowly at first. Gwayne seemed to groan in frustration at your pace. You grinned, knowing how much you teased him now.

“I do not think this is quite riding me, sweet lady,” Gwayne grunted beneath you. He smacked your behind, the sharp pain and pleasure of it making you cry out. “Come now, love, ride me. Fuck yourself on my cock and let me watch those gorgeous sweet tits of yours.”

You did as he commanded, quickening your pace and truly fucking yourself on him.

Your tits bounced, the necklace clinking with the movement. You moaned, relishing in the way his cock felt.

He reached his hand up, cupping your bouncing breasts and letting your vigorous movements rub your sensitive nipples on his thumb.

Your walls clenched around him. Your peak was approaching, fast.

“That's it, love,” he groaned. “Fuck!”

You threw your head back as your peak washed over you, your pace stuttering as you attempted to ride him through it.

He gripped your hips and rutted into you, a fourth peak closing in so soon after the last.

You peaked, feeling his seed coat the walls of your cunt as you screamed his name and collapsed on his chest.

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visenyaism · 3 months

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jaehaerys administration dashboard simulator

🫧maidenpooled Follow

listen i know all kingsguard are bastards but jonquil darke put a cigarette out on me. i think i huave shivers

♟️redwhine

ok bootlicker. you know what she did

🫧maidenpooled Follow

boots not the only thing id lick

🌸queencrowned Follow

this could literally be me and my brother if it weren't for my bitch mom trying to send me to the other side of the fucking continent

🍒saerious

GIRL STAND UP

🤎bowlofbrown

doctrine of exceptionalism meatriders when someone asks them why 75% of dragonstone is blonde and me and half of flea bottom have gleaming amethyst eyes and/or beautiful delicate cheekbones

🥀maegorwife Follow

that's different...targaryens are literally divinely ordained by the seven to rule because they're stronger and better than us...that's why they have the dragons it is in their sanctified valyrian blood

🩸knifeinthedark

SO TRUE...THEY WANT TO ABOLISH THE RIGHT TO FIRST NIGHT BECAUSE OF WOKE. AND YET THEY STILL DO IT. BUT NO ONE CAN SAY ANYTHING ANYMORE OR THOSE GENDER-NEUTRAL DRAGONS WILL BURN YOUR KEEP DOWN

🤎bowlofbrown

cannot stand this fucking website. spending my last silver stag on tyroshi blue hair dye im not going to be associated with you people.

🍒saerious

oh so when maegor has seven wives he’s “aegon’s true son” and “cool” but when i have three boyfriends suddenly im a “whore”

🫀lustywench Follow

op i support you but they did call him “the cruel” for that it was a very important part of the story that he was in fact maegor “the cruel”

🌟sevenpointedstar

🌗maidensgrace

doing all of this with a FAITH OF THE SEVEN URL...girl you better pick a hell and start hoping

#bring back the faith militant

❄️theythemderly

hey isn’t it weird that so many of the king’s children have suddenly and mysteriously died lately. under the care of the maesters. what if they’re planning something…,

🕯️glasscandled

ugh i wish🙄 speed that shit up fr

🥵ullerscorpion

likes charge reblog cast

😈themarcherrrrrr-deactivated5699

me when im in a being dead combination and my opponents are jaehaerys' whole army of childraeyn of the corn

🙌fleabottomtop

yoooooooo theyre quarrelling again.

🙌fleabottomtop

alysanne targaryen if you're reading this i could change your life just give me one chance let me hit

🙌fleabottomtop

there are gold cloaks outside of my house

⚔️errantmaid Follow

kingsguard dick is good as fuck when you don't have a motherfucker in your ear saying it violates a sacred vow made in the eyes of the king and the seven😜

⚔️errantmaid Follow

the king chopped it off and sent him to the wall i fucking hate this place can't have SHIT in king's landing

🏵️floriansjonquil

hey has anyone seen princess gael. it's been literal months and she seems to have up and disappeared with no official announcement from the palace? would be the third female relative to go missing in the king's custody after aerea and saera....

🐝beeeeeeeeeeeeesbury Follow

damn that's crazy. im sure shes fine though anyways i'm a big fan of this new road the king built theres a lot of nice new roads does anyone else like the roads

🐦‍⬛cloakedinfeathers Follow

day 18262 of not fighting the brackens. this is boring as fuckkkkk what am i supposed to do. pretend to care about the triarchy?

🐎brackennation

kill yourself

🐦‍⬛cloakedinfeathers Follow

192.158.1.38. doxxed. get your dumbfuck horse breeder knights ready because our strongest and noblest raven warriors are on the way to your nasty ass keep right now bitch

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #imaginary tumblr user fleabottomtop is canon. and a time traveller. btw

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 months

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Stop The Feeling

"I cannot bare it when I am not around," you confess, eyes watering. Gwayne stills, "oh."

Gwayne Hightower x Cargyll!Reader | 800< | cw: fem!reader, fuck boy!Gwayne, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GWAYNE BRAIN ROT X CHAPPELL ROAN good luck babe 😁

What started as innocent admiration ended with a hurricane.

And now as it stormed over King's Landing, you walk the halls to the Kingsguard's quarters to visit your brothers, holding a basket in your hands.

You nod at a knight that greets you. You arrive and look for Arryk or Erryk but instead find someone else entirely.

"Gwyane."

The man leaned against the wall smirks, "Lady Cargyll."

You lower your gaze as he walks over. You correct yourself and curtsy, "Ser Gwayne."

He waves a hand and shake his head, "I heard of your father's arrival to King's Landing and knew you would come to see your brothers."

You keep your eyes on your basket, "you know me well, my lord."

"Yes," he drops his head to steal a glance of your face, "will you also grace me with a visit?"

You look around when you hear voices and step back from him, "I do not think-"

"I've missed you," he says, making you finally turn to him.

Your lips part, "you have?"

"Sister!" two voices say at once.

Both you and Gwayne turn and see the twin Kingsguard walking towards you, dripping wet at that. You beam at them, "I've bought you some food."

Arryk comes forward first, kissing your cheek. He tells you were stationed outside, thus why they were wet. Erryk on the other hand raises a brow at Gwayne, "Lord Hightower."

Gwayne smiles, "Ser Arryk."

"Erryk," he corrects.

Arryk and you turn to Gwayne. The latter laughs, "my mistake."

"Did you need anything, my lord?" Arryk asks. You feel your stomach roll when both your brothers turn to him. Gwayne casually shakes his head, "I merely chaperoned the lady," he looks out the window, "tis raining after all."

You scoff softly at the excuse. Still, you pull a smile, "I nearly slipped and he caught me."

Your brothers turn to you.

"My lord was just leaving."

They turn back to him. Gwayne raises his brows and opens his mouth. He nods slowly, "yes," then quickly, "yes, I was just."

Gwayne walks off and hears your chatter with your brothers. The cold brought by the rain makes his fingers tingle. He wonders if you'll be coming to his chambers. He sprints to the door when he hears a knock.

His face brightens at the sight of you, "I see you've missed me as well."

You don't speak; you reply with a kiss.

As the cold rain masks the sounds of pleasure that drips from your mouth, you find warmth in his arms which trap you beneath him. And once it's all over, you press your cheek on his back and reconnect the constellations on his skin with your fingers.

"How long will you be staying?" Gwayne mutters against his pillow, head heavy, voice sleepy.

You lick your lips, "do you love me?"

His eyes open.

You pull away.

He turns to you with knit brows. You stare at each other for a while and find your answer in the silence. You shake your head and turn to your hands.

Gwayne calls your name and clutches your cheek, "I care for you."

"Then won't you marry me?"

He stares at you. The rain pours. Again, you find your answer in the silence.

You press your lips into a thin smile. You did not think you would be this indifferent to the truth. Mayhap it's because deep down, you already knew what he'd say, "perhaps one day you will want to."

He smiles. You hate how lovely it is even while he was crushing your heart, "one day." Gwayne kisses the back of your hand, "but tonight, we sleep."

You nod the way you always do.

When the rain ends and the morning comes, Gwayne finds himself alone in his bed. It was not yet up, and you'd normally wake him before leaving, thus why he finds himself frazzled.

He spends the morning looking for you, the afternoon worrying about you, and when the night begins to bleed through the sky, he finally decides to ask one of your brothers of your whereabouts.

"My sister?" Erryk says, knitting his brows, "she is with the prince, my lord."

He tilts his head, "the prince?"

Erryk nods, "aye. Prince Aemond took her on dragonback."

"Aemond?" he blurts, face hardening, "what business does my nephew have with your sister?"

Gwayne watches as the man's face contorts. The kingsguard speaks slowly, "they are betrothed and to be married in a fortnight."

Gwayne's face goes white.

Erryk narrows his eyes at him, a deep line forming between his brows, "are you well, s-"

"I'm well," he scoffs, breaking into a laugh. He shakes his head, "I am merely taken aback by the sudden news."

The knight's face twists in confusion.

"You must be happy for your sister's betrothal."

He nods, "I am happy for her love match."

"Love match!" Gwayne laughs again, slapping Erryk's armoured shoulder, "love match, say he!"

Erryk raises his brows, "my lord-"

"What happy news!" laughs the Hightower, "bid your sister my congratulations."

"I wi-" he stops himself when the Gwayne suddenly departs.

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 months

Text

I Will Never Leave You (Daemon x Reader)

I think this more a love letter to Rhaenyra than anything but I’m really proud of this one cause I adore writing characters like this, I hope you guys enjoy it

Rhaenyra adored her mother since she drew her first breath, yet the woman she admired the most and desperately seemed her nod of approval was her beloved aunt (y/n) Targaryen, the middle child of prince Baelon and princess Alyssa, the seat between the brothers suited her, (y/n) had the good heart and the bright mind of her older brother that went hand in hand with the wild spirit and the constant need to protect the ones she called her own that she passed down to Daemon.

(Y/n) had been by Rhaenyras side when she needed her the most, wrapping her arms around the shaking frame of the young princess burying her face at the crook of (y/n)s neck.

“Dracarys”

Even though the dragon was not (y/n)s, beautiful Syrax complied whilst Rhaenyra broke down at the arms of her aunt, (y/n) ran her fingers through Rhaenyras long hair to offer her comfort as she whispered the lullaby she would sing to her when she was little.

She had also been the one to almost harass her beloved brother and king to name Rhaenyra his heir.

“As much as I love my lord husband, he is not fit to lead, the weight of the realm will crush him until he bursts into flames, we can prevent this, you can prevent this”

“And name Rhaenyra my heir? A queen has not sat the iron throne”

“Why not name the princess your heir? She is the second born”

Otto had questioned, (y/n) side eyed the man before she looked down to collect her thoughts, the wound of her brothers digging their claws on that piece of metal had brought such mental combat between them, turning blood against one another, if she had taken a go at them then all efforts for a harmonious family would have gone to war ages ago.

“I am afraid it is too late for me to claim what could have been or some could argue “should have been” but the time is just right for my niece, Rhaenyra is the result of the love you shared with the late queen Aemma, you have already wronged her, do not turn your back on the only thing you have left of her”

(Y/n) and Daemon had wed a fortnight after Viserys and Aemma, their wedlock’s were as similar as the sun with the moon, Daemon and (y/n) mirrored one another, their fire burned bright and their thick skulls could cause the the strongest storm to lash, still at the end of the day they ended up in each others arms, holding each other tight and whispering words of love and admiration.

(Y/n) was the only one that could keep Daemon on a leash, staying by his side as he raged for the “disrespect” their brother had shown, in a delicate manner (y/n) would always grab his hand and bring it up to her cheek to ground him.

“I love you and your bravery, however I do despise when you let your rage overtake everything that’s good in you, let me fix this for you”

Daemon would always take her in his arms and kiss her lips with all the might he could master. (Y/n) was his life line, her eyes were like a much needed breath after a deep dive, her smile resembled the feeling of the brisk air on the early hours of a summer day, her hair was as soft as a birds feather as it brushed on his skin, and her touch, oh that touch of hers…like a soothing balm on Daemons wounded heart.

“What is the matter, my love?”

“We must fly to kings landing by the morrow”

“Has something happened?”

“Lucerys’s claim is at question by Vaemond, Lord Corlys has not even passed and they are already circling around Rhaenyra like crows”

(Y/n) half mumbled half explained whilst her fingers rubbed circles on her temples, (y/n) had never voiced it still a pang of guilt ate her soul as slow as the carnivores ate their dead prey whenever she exchanged letters with Rhaenyra, she gave up on her, she left her alone to fight against those Hightowers, withering away as the bastards started to tighten the rope around the heiress’s neck.

Daemon puffed out a breath, the conversation had always been the same, (y/n) would often bring up her concerns over Rhaenyras well being, asking Daemon if mayhaps they made a mistake by leaving her, fabricating elaborate scenarios of how things could have been different.

With caution Daemon approached his lady wife and once he reached her he placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing circles on her aching shoulders as she slouched back and a grunt of pleasure left her, the flames from the fireplace licking her face in such a complimenting light, had he not touched her he could assume she was just an extremely accurate portrait from the hands of an exceptionally gifted artist.

“Rhaenyra is strong, she will overcome this”

“Rhaenyra is alone, our brother is barely able to make a sentence, she cannot stand alone at court”

“And what do you think our presence will do? We have been cast away for far too long, no one will pay attention to what we have to say on the matter, besides, driftmark is none of our responsibility”

After the birth of their first born daughter Enora Daemon and (y/n) decided to leave kings landing and reside in Pentos, granting protection with their dragons they were gifted with land and lived like the Targaryens only knew how to live.

“It is under the Targaryen rule, our closests bond to old Valyria”

“Dragons are our bond, which we have our own”

(Y/n) stood up from her chair to face her lord husband, fury that intertwined with confusion painted across her face as her eyebrows furrowed and her lips half open from the shock that his dismiss had caused.

Daemon resented when they fought, he did not enjoy his love being cross with him, though he loved a battle he would hang on dear life on anything and say whatever to make her curl up in his arms with content.

“You do not want to come with me” (y/n) stated

“I do not believe we will change anything”

“You believe that? Out of all I thought you would be the one to get on your dragon the fastest”

“You are with child, our other children are happy here, must we indulge in that mess?”

“That mess? Our brother has been crippled, our niece tortured by the Hightower and now she asks for our aid and you think I will just ignore it”

“You are emotional”

“I am, and proud of it, I will fly to kings landing with my children, you can choose to stay and hide behind our thick and tall walls of this castle. I will not leave our legacy, our blood, to slowly perish. It is your decision at the end of the day”

Daemon puffed out of breath before he reached for (y/n)s arms to which (y/n) stepped back to avoid, her eyes that spewed fire starring right into his soul.

(Y/n) was the diplomat out of the pair, one can imagine the surprise of her stubbornness when it came to this, which also revealed how important this was for (y/n).

“You mustn’t get upset in your condition”

“That is something you should remember, I was fine until I saw that the years turned you into a coward”

(Y/n) spat inches away from his face, with hurried and swift motions she intentionally bumped his shoulder as she made her exit of their chamber, Daemon did not catch a wink of sleep, (y/n) had never slept at another chamber separately since they had wed.

As the sun started to shyly make its descent (y/n) was assisting her three children on their dragons for their journey to kings landing.

“Hold on”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder to find her husband with his dragon walking towards them, she had to admit that leaving without him would have costed her a great deal, she wanted him by her side, to help her, to hold her, to have her.

“What made you change your mind?”

“My astonishing devotion to you and your stubbornness, I won’t leave you alone with the wolves”

Daemon reassured her before he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, a smile making its way to (y/n)s lips as she gazed at him with love, that sparkle of joy was what kept Daemon alive, he would risk anything to see her well.

A giggle that came from their youngest children interrupted their sweet moment, Daemon and (y/n) looked up as the twins sat on their dragons, admiring the deep affection that oozed out of their parents, Daemon only winked at his children in response and turned back to his lady wife.

“Allow me dearest”

A shriek was heard when Daemon swiped the princess off her feet and lifted her up at her green dragon Zephyr. The family landed unexpectedly since they had not given any information to their visit, Otto and Alicent were fuming upon their arrival, the pair would stir the pot and cause chaos all in the princesses name, Otto was certain of it.

However no one could expect the ever defiant (y/n) holding Viserys by his right arm and the stoic prince Daemon holding the king by the left.

“King Viserys of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the andals, and the rhoynar and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm, with princess (y/n) Targaryen and Prince Daemon Targaryen”

Time stood still as they entered the throne room, (y/n) had persisted on visiting her brother, encouraging him to stand and back Rhaenyras claim, begging him to find his strength and sit on the iron throne.

“I will sit the throne today”

Viserys was able to say to Otto who only bowed his head and stepped aside. When (y/n) gently assisted her brother to sit comfortably his crown managed to move and fall, Daemon was the one that caught it and placed it back on Viserys head. As the pair took a step back (y/n) was the first to curtsy in front of him.

“My king”

She whispered before she smiled, Viserys managed to get a hold of her hand and bring it up to his deformed lips, as cold and slimy the weird texture of his lips left on her hand (y/n) looked back on that memory until the end of her days, as many times as they fought (y/n) held a spot for Viserys, one of loyalty and respect.

Daemon snaked his arm around her waist as they went down the steps and took their place next to a baffled and ecstatic Rhaenyra, (y/n) subtly nodded and side eyed Rhaenyra letting her know she is her for her.

As Viserys reaffirmed Lucerys claim and Rhaenys announced the betrothal of Baela and Rhaena (y/n) was ready to turn and hug her dear niece when Vaemond stepped in front of the king, interrupting the glorious moment.

“You break law and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir, don’t you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon, No, I will not allow it”

“Allow it? I do not think anyone hear asked for your opinion Ser…. Apologies I haven’t been at court in so long, what is your name?”

(Y/n)s words sliced through Vaemond like Valyrian steel and Rhaenyra struggled to hide her chuckle, Daemon stood proudly by her side though his grip tightened around her waist when Vaemonds eyes fell on her for a brief moment before he pointed to Lucerys.

“THAT! is no true Velaryon and certainly not a nephew of mine”

Rhaenyra as the mother that she is took a step forward to stand closer to Vaemond and in front of Lucerys, what no one had seen was an important question that (y/n) had whispered at her husband.

“Which side is your sword on today?”

“Go to your chambers, you’ve said enough”

“Lucerys is my true born grandson and you are no more than the second son of drift mark”

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine, my house survived the doom”

“To which you owe it to much greater men than you Vaemond, men that knew their place and played their part in history, something that you refuse to do”

“And you think that you can tell me what my place is? Your brother skipped over you and gave the name of heir to your niece, the gods know what you have done to make him skip over you and your… husband, my name survived and gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this”

“Say it, say it”

Daemon antagonised the man, (y/n) assumed her position and slipped away from Daemons grip, her hand gliding from his back all the way down to his sword, dark sister, and pulled it out the sound of metal brushing against its scabbard was enough to make (y/n) grind her teeth in annoyance, thankfully no one seemed to pay attention to what she was up to.

Except Daemon whom had already a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he internally thanked whoever blessed him to change his mind and was now going to be a witness on this wonderful event and as he viewed it “important milestone” in his lady wife’s life.

Vaemond was caught in his own fury and sense of entitlement to see his end coming, even if he had seen (y/n) with a sword he would pay her no mind, a man of such ignorance wouldn’t feel threaten by a woman with a swollen belly or any woman for that matter.

“Her children are BASTARDS and she.is.a.whore”

“I will have your tongue for that”

Daemon watched with pride as his wife lifted the sword and with one clean slice Vaemonds head was cut right above his tongue. Enora was taken aback by her mothers acts while her two siblings Alastor and Aelia hid behind their fathers legs to avoid witnessing the gruesome sight of the corpse at such a young age.

(Y/n) stood still as the sword touched the ground to support her, glaring down at the man that had so much to say, a man that thought himself as indestructible and yet he laid on the cold floor as his blood gushed out of him and pooled on the ground.

“He can keep his tongue, to explain his treachery to the gods”

“Disarm her”

Otto commanded as his voice boomed through the throne room like a proper king that would command his kings guards to obviously attack (y/n), though the real king -Viserys- had just opened his mouth to stop this when Daemon took only a step forward.

“Don’t you dare”

Daemon warned them, in a rather surprisingly composed way for the situation Daemon approached her and took the sword from her, wiping it away at his clothes lazily before he placed it back on its original spot, his hand brushed a few strands of hair that had moved and let it glide behind her shoulder, he preferred it when her hair was out of her face, so he can fully take in her beauty.

(Y/n) was seen smiling brightly, basking in her accomplishment that was so grotesque that some reported that a numerous ladies that had been witnesses had fainted or vomited at the sight.

“You must rest, my love”

“Before that”

(Y/n) proclaimed, she left her husbands side momentarily only to stand before Rhaenyra, her hands going up to cup her nieces cheeks and place a kiss on top of the heiress head, a gesture that held such affection and compassion, (y/n) had Rhaenyra in her heart and her mind as her own daughter, images of the princess running careless on the grass and finding refuge in (y/n)s hug flashed before (y/n)s eyes.

“My dear niece”

“(Y/n)” Rhaenyra breathed out

“I will never leave you, ever”

Requests are open!

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myladysapphire · 2 months

Text

The Dragon and the Wolf (III)

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,291

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, p in v, depression, mentions of miscarriages, stillbriths, love confessions, family reunion, marital difficulties, angst, not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: the timeline does not follow the book so don't come for me for changing things. sorry if this seemed rush honesltyi dont like it but i think it works well and makes a good chapter to lead into the epilouge.

In the year of 134AC, 3 years after the end of the dance of dragons, and three moons into your marriage with Cregan stark you finally made your way to kings landing after years apart from your beloved brothers.

Viserys and Aegon were no men almost grown, with Viserys a wife and child on the way and Aegon, now married to Daenaera Velaryon, though their marriage remained unconsummated.

The reunion had been a sad one, with many tears shed as you finally saw your brothers after years apart.

“Aegon! Viserys” you cried out as you ran out of the carriage to greet your brothers, your arms wrapping tightly around them, scared to let them go. Tears filled your eyes as you kissed their cheeks.

“I have missed you so dearly” you said to Aegon before looking over at Viserys, your mouth stuttering as you tried to find the right words “Vizzy, I have…oh gods-“ you cried out pulling him in for a hug once more “your all grown up!” you said, “a man grown” shaking your head as you hugged him closer.

He cried on your shoulder as you did, his arms never leaving you even as you introduced him to Cregan.

“This is Cregan…my husband, and the new lord hand.”

“An honour to see you again” Aegon greeted, moving away from slightly from you to shake Cregan’s hand.

“As it is for me, my king” Cregan replied to Aegon head bowed.

And though Kings Landing had changed much, filled with new faces and on the rare occasions a familiar one, you still hated it.

You had thought seeing your brothers here, your sisters, it would feel like a home again,

But no.

You despised the viper pit.

There was more scheming and ploys than before and you were now at the centre of it.

with Cregan as hand and the death of your grandsire as regent, new faces took the role of councillors you had only just grown to trust.

Many of your mothers’ own advisers, advisers you had made Aegon promise to keep on his council had died in the winter fever the year before.

And perhaps that was why you hated Kingslanding, though a fifth of their population was taken, and 90% of that being the smallfolk, so many you had known, trusted and cared for had died and you never even knew.

The halls seemed more haunted now.

Not just haunted of by the faces of your family, of your uncles and brothers.

Of your mother.

But of them also.

You regretted coming with Cregan, and you hated yourself for it.

You had though and thought to stay here, arguing with him before the wedding for just this, to stay.

You know whished to take Silverwing and ride her to Winterfell and never return.

It was only the love you had for your brothers and Cregan that made you stay.

The memory of when first admitted your love for each other playing over and over again, as if it would somehow make you love this place once more.

“Cregan” you had sighed, now alone in your shred tent after a hard long day of ridding, the bath water doing little too sooth your joints.

He sighed your name in return, turning to face you as he undressed for bed.

“Do you love me?” you asked, trying to keep a casual tone to your voice, though you couldn’t hide the hope in your voice.

He smiled softly, moving towards you, taking your hand in his, “I have loved you since I first met you, and I do not think I ever will”.

You smiled, kissing his lips softly, “I love you, I have for so long, even when I hid behind my grief.”

“Really? I did not think you liked me much, after the war.”

“I did! And I hated it, I wanted to through myself into my grief and yet a part of me felt pained that I loved you and you did not know. I hated ignoring you, there always seemed to be a tether tying me to you.” You said shyly. “I hated that you were the reason I was pulled from my grief, I didn’t want my happiness to depend on you, but now…I am glad it is”.

She was glad to have him, he filled the whole left by her family’s deaths, though it was a different kind of love and wholeness she was glad for it.

But it did nought, not as you became and aunt, you fell back into the slow misery you felt before.

Feeling lost and haunted. Surrounded by ghosts talking to you day after day, ghosts you could not hear but faces haunted your dreams.

You didn’t tell anyone though.

Your family was happy, despite the death of Corlys or Baleas husband.

They all seemed happy here, laughing and enjoying the feasts.

The only person who could see your misery was Aegon, but even then, he didn’t understand.

It was clear he was haunted by your mother, of her death. But his was misery was he could push aside, and when with his family all he had was joy.

And yet you still felt that death followed you even more.

More as you felt the death of your child, spending hours, days on the birthing bed only to be greeted with a still born child.

More so as you felt the blood trickle down your legs time after time as you tried and tried to carry another pregnancy to term.

Your heart continued to break and Cregan could see your misery and so he insisted on you retuning to Winterfell, and you agreed.

Being back in Winterfell made you lose the feelings you had in Kingslanding, made you feel safer.

Made you feel at home.

And you felt lighter here.

Then Cregan was called back to Kings Landing and the emptiness found you again.

But you forced it to the side, hoping if you ignored it long enough it would go away.

And gods were you wrong.

You had plunged yourself into work, trying to help the north recover, from its weakened state following the famine caused during the winter fever.

A year passed, now 136AC, a year away from your husband, from your brothers.

You became a ghost once more; all healing had vanished and the person you said you would become if Cregan sent you here alone had come.

“Without you I will…I will only find that hollowness I felt for moons, the sadness will return without you to…to comfort me, to hold me and cherish me. I cannot be alone, I may rely on you a little too much, but I cannot bear to…”

And it had, you were hollow, and you were sad. But instead of letting it spill out of you as it had before, you kept it hidden.

Putting on a strong front, you wanted to be the fierce lady of Winterfell no matter how much you were breaking inside, no matter how much you wished for Cregan to see through your flowered words on paper and to come back to you.

And though he did come back to you, it was not because of you, but of Sylas the Grim.

A wilding chieftain who led a large force of 3,000 south of the wall and was plundering the lands of the gift.

Cregan arrived soon after you sent news of Sylas attacks. You yourself had tried to scare them off, using Silverwing to burn their trail. But they continued their plundering.

And so Cregan led the rallied forces of the north and attacked the wildings, leading yet another victory.

You had watched from the sidelines, sat atop Silverwing awaiting Cregan’s signal. But he never gave it, never looked over to where you waited. Only greeting you as you made your way into the festivity’s hours later. Having taken Silverwing over the wall and burning down all trees beyond the wall, within a 100-mile radius.

He had been surprised but grateful for your actions. But his gratefulness was soon overlooked as the drunken men of the north started to sing.

And you once again sat in your seat and let the hollowness within you start to show.

Later that night, after going to bed hours before Cregan, you and him finally spoke.

“Cregan?” you muttered, lifting your head from the pillow as he tumbled into the room.

“Wife!” he replied, his tone joyful, “I have missed you” he sang, “you’re going to come back with me to kings landing!” he spoke, looking at you expectantly, as if expecting you to dance in joy.

“no” you said, sitting up.

“No?” he said, suddenly sobering up. “Why not? Do you not miss your brother? Or me?”

“Every second of everyday”

“Then come to kings landing”.

“no”

“Why not?” he said, his tone almost aggravated.

“It is haunted” you spoke, your voice in hushed whispers as if the ghosts would somehow appear in your chambers.

“Everywhere haunted, even Winterfell” he said, looking at you, truly looking at you.

He took note of your sunken eyes, your dead eyes.

You looked just as you had those first few years here, and he hated how what you had said would happen had come true.

“no” he muttered, moving towards you “no…my love my sweet wife…what has happened?”

You broke down in tears, telling him what you felt, a years’ worth of emotions spilling out of you and the tears never stopped.

You must have spent the night crying in his arms, begging him to stay and never leave you again.

“please” you begged, “I can’t…I can’t go back there, and I can’t be without you”.

“okay” he said, thinking hard, “I will give up my place as hand”.

“I can’t ask that of you- “

“You can, and I must” he shook his head, cradling you in his arms “I have neglected you for too long and I am so sorry, I love you, I hope you know that” he said, hand caressing your cheek.

“you’ll stay”.

“Yes…always”

Giving up the position of hand of the king had been like a wight had lifted of his shoulders.

But seeing the state of his with had placed a heavier weight on him.

Feeling his heart break and his own betrayal fill him as you cried in his arms he felt he was a disappointment.

He had seen your loss, her grief and in his own he had pushed you away.

And though he had recovered, he should have known that you couldn’t, not by yourself, not when you still had so much grief left from the war still.

you had always been soft and gentle, always so Intune with your emotions that they overwhelmed you, and he had somehow overlooked that fact and sent you away.

And unlike last time he didn’t have the wedding or retuning to kings landing to look forward to. There was nothing really to look forward too, other than the one thing the gods had deprived you off.

A babe.

You had tried and tried, but three miscarriages and one still birth had wrecked you.

In truth had he not had the lords breathing down his neck once more for an heir then he would never have made you try in the first place and yet it was what you craved, despite the duty you wanted a babe.

And now as his cock filled you and hit all the right spots, this moment were their was no grief, no death no duty to fulfil, just you and Cregan.

“Cregan” you moaned, your face falling into the pillows as he pounded into you “please” you begged into the pillow, you felt your peak approaching as he entered you out, hitting your sweet spot again and again.

He held onto your hips, his cock focusing on that spot as his finger moved down to your clit, bringing you to your second peak of the night, as he filled you with his seed.

You collapsed on the bed, as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

You relaxed into a comfortable silence, a silence you both often found yourself in.

‘I love you” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

And for the first time in a year you said it back, “I love you, too”

You fell into your roles as lord and lady of Winterfell easily. Finding you rather enjoyed your duties even more when they were not used as a distraction.

And even though there was some tension between you and Cregan still, you found the love you felt for one another made everything easier, especially when you had spent nights crying in grief and regret at refusing your brothers request to return to Kingslanding even if only for a few days.

You hated saying no, but they seemed to understand. Your duty was to Winterfell now, and they understood.

Egg had understood your need to leave before, himself feeling the same as he told you he considered moving to Dragonstone but fearing hell find more hurt in those halls than that of the red keep.

And now with news of Aegon’s tour around Westeros you were excited to see him once more, too show him your home.

A home you did not regret him having no place in, and as the years passed with a few visits here and there form your brothers you found you rather liked the distance.

Finding that perhaps your grief weas in the guilt of only them and you surviving and not Jace, Luke or Joffrey. The boys who were truly your brothers before they were ever kings or princes.

authors note: next part is the epilouge!

taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog @apollonshootafar @zillahvathek @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99 @deeeeexx @valyriantargaryenblood-blog @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunblogsblog @clobobo @raynetargaryen2 @justbelljust @sukunassfingerr

@arminsstuff @now-i-have-a-new-obsession @eddieslut69 @materialgirl01 @bugmanor @annabellekenobi2005 @whos-too-bi @mandowhatnow @aegonswife @littlebirdgot @delaynew @now-i-have-a-new-obsession @dorkysupernova @hawkins_2000 @materialgirl01 @beebeechaos @rosedurin @rebeccawinters @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @perla434 @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera

to be added to taglist

#house of the dragon #hotd #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark #tom taylor #house stark #house targaryen

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lyraoftheevergreens · 7 days

Text

The Realms Enchantress

Chapter 3

NSFW MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader!Niece, Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Female!OC,

Summary: For years Daemon never had a care in the world just, sex, wine and a good battle. With the exception of his favorite niece. His little dragon he called her. He swore to be there for her and he got himself exiled when she needed him the most. Now, he returns from war at the step stones and is determined to get her back. No matter the cost.

Warnings: Targaryen Inscest, mentions of sex, oral female and male receiving, talk of nudity, mentions of death and blood, mother murdered, dead babies, depression, periods, vulgar language. If your watching hotd than you should already know that stuff written about it will not be clean in the slightest.

Author Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, life happened and as we all know it tends to suck at times

Word Count: 4.4k

Previous Chapter

“Come join me! ‘Tis quite warm!”

“No, how can I trust you speak the truth? I am quite content here enjoying the view.”

“Daemon! Please!” You yelled to him. In time he eventually caved and undressed to join you. By all means who was he to deny you what you wanted.

“You lie! It’s fucking cold!” He yelled walking to you.

“I don’t lie, I’ve just been in long enough that it’s quite nice.”

He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into him, stood in the ocean.

“I could live here, till the end of my days.” You whispered, head on his chest.

“On Dragonstone?”

“In your arms.” Just the two of you.

Eventually you both decide to return to your chambers for rest. Walking up with daemon barefoot in his breeches and you barefoot in his tunic. The staff looked at the two of you wide eyed as you both walked through the halls laughing and talking.

“Oh do you remember that time Rhaenyra got drunk?”

“I’m sorry, Rhaenyra?” He looked at you in disbelief given she is only 4 and 10 years of age.

“Oh no! You were away! I shall tell you the story than. She was only 10 years of age and I believe it was my father’s name day and he was drinking his wine at a faster pace than usual as well as consuming my mothers because she was with child as always. Nyra saw it fit to help him finish his own glass when he turned to drink mothers. Nobody had noticed what she was doing.”

“Well clearly you noticed if you are relaying the events.”

“No, actually. It was her who stumbled in laughing pissing herself into my bedchambers. When she woke the next morning I questioned her as to what she had gotten her self into the night prior and she told me. Although the fact that she was dancing and telling jest to about any lord or servant that would hear her should have given her away.”

Daemon listened to you as the two of you walked to your bedchamber. A fondness in his eyes. The servants were in shock and some shied away from watching the Rogue Prince appear happy. He smiled with you. None of them had seen him smile.

A warm bath was already prepared when the two of you entered the room. The maids knew not to linger. You laid against his chest as you both laid in the hot water enjoying each other’s presence. It was Daemon who spoke first ruining the silent bliss.

“We must start our journey back to Kings Landing on the morrow.”

“You swore 4 days to me.” You answered him back.

“We’ve stayed 3, our journey together will be the fourth. We won’t arrive till the hour of the wolf.”

“May we return here to Dragonstone as we wish?”

“If your father does not have my head for bringing you here then yes.”

“Daemon.” You whispered.

“Yes?” He answered. You turned between his legs to face him, the water spilling from the sides of the basin.

“I want you to…” you were unable to finish your own sentence from your own nervousness. Your face red unable to express your wishes to him.”

“What is it you want sweet girl. Tell me.”

“I want you to, to. Touch me.” You whispered the last part.

“Touch you how?” He asked feigning naivety.

“Fuck me.” You whispered. He threw his head back and groaned.

“Oh my sweet girl, how I wish I could. We must time such things. If I do so now your father will have my head and he will marry you off to the first lord who will take you.” He tried to reason with you. It was hard to given that he barely got 3 words in before your hand gripped his cock. Once in your soft hand he was rock solid. It took everything with in him not to have you as he truly wished every night here on Dragonstone.

“Wed me. In the tradition of our house, take me as your second wife.” You told him now working your hand up and down his length the water begins to rock due to your hand movements on his length threatening to spill from the tub.

“You are so much more than a second wife zaldrītsos.” He moaned out eyes clenched closed as you continued your movements. He laid there enjoying the feel of your hand working his length. His own hand never being able to bring the same relief yours was bringing him. He knows once he has your cunt wrapped around him, you will have ruined every whore for him, He will solely crave you.

Once the bath was ruined from his release the two of you got out and prepared for bed. Once in bed the two of you drifted off to sleep in each others arms. The next morning Daemon kept his word and the two of you left on Dyrax at sunrise and started your journey to Kingslanding. Once arrived at the hour of the wolf you and Daemon used the secret passageways to your chambers. The two of you held each other one last time. Tasted each other one last time.

When you woke the next morning it was Rhaenyra who had awoken you by jumping into your bed.

“You’ve returned! Oh I thought you would never return from Dragonstone! How was it with Daemon?”

“It was lovely. A much needed rest from court. I must ask. Is father aware?”

“He is unaware to my knowledge.”

“Perfect.”

“Tell me y/n!” She shouted at you, now realizing you would have no choice but to tell her everything. Well, excluding the intimate details. Your day continued on as usual as if you hadn’t been away for 5 days. Daemon returned to his gold cloaks, day time training and nightly patrols.

Otto fucking Hightower. You had returned to court your second day back from Dragonstone. When Otto the cunt of a hand asked you how your time at Dragonstone was, infront of your father.

“You were at Dragonstone? When?” Questioned your father.

“Just 2 days past. I needed to be alone to grieve mother.”

“Did you not arrive at the hour of the wolf with Prince Daemon?”

“Yes I did. It was his idea and it helped. I enjoyed the waters of Dragonstone and I was able to cry and sleep as I pleased. No court, no politics, no murmurs of my mother and brother’s death around the castle. Silence and rest.”

“That sounds lovely my girl. I’m glad you are rested.” Your father responded. One thing Otto didn’t know, is your father would be sure not to upset you after watching him choose a son over his wife. Now he has no heir, no wife and could possibly loose his two daughters.

“Thank you father.” She said smiling to him.

“We must discuss Daemon and the way he is abusing his city watch status. He is acting as judge and executioner, 2 horse pulled carriages were used to rid of the carnage. Many would say it a massacre and abuse of power. His first night back and the people are met with his blade.”

“Has crime not gone down?” You spoke up.

“Excuse me princess?” Answered Otto abruptly.

“He instills fear in criminals, should the people of kings landing remain honest, not steal and not rape than they should have nothing to fear by the gold cloaks nightly patrols.”

“The city watch is not to instill fear.” Otto retorts.

“Maester Fredrick, get me the crime reports please. From the last 3 years.”

“Yes princess.” Said the maester and quickly left.

“Ser Harwin strong was lead commander while your uncle was away. Crime remained down and there were no live slaughters.” Oh how Otto got under her skin.

“While that may remain true how long till the city’s criminals retaliate. If they don’t fear death or loss of limb who is to say that crime won’t raise once again. Daemon has returned, I propose we allow a fortnight to compare results and we will see if the matter requires further discussion with Daemon present. All who agree?” And with that everyone agreed, your father spoke.

“Marvelous idea my dear. We shall allow a fortnight and we will proceed from there. Your king is tired, if there are no further matters that require my attention I shall retire for the evening.” With that he stood, everyone else stood and he left. Once you exited the room you had crossed paths with Maester Fredrick and the records.

“Have them sent to my chambers please.” You asked.

“Of course princess.” He left in search for your handmaid, what you assume. Once you retired to your room’s Rhaenyra came running in.

“I can’t believe the way you put Otto in his place!” Rhaenyra threw herself onto your bed laughing.

“Do you notice the way it absolutely angers him that father allows me a seat on his council.“ you said laying down next to her.

“Yes! I really thought father was going to storm out the council room in search for Daemon after what Otto said.”

“As did I. Truthfully I’m relieved he didn’t further question it. Or that Otto didn’t press into it. You think Otto has spies on Dragonstone?”

“No. I don’t believe so. You?”

“No.” You laid there thinking about if Otto did. Surely he knew something to bring up your leave with Daemon.

Two days later another council meeting was called. You all took your seats and Otto spoke first. “Before we begin your grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share. Last night Prince Daemon bought out one of the pleasure houses on the street of silk to entertain officers of the city watch and other friends of his. He toasted Prince Baelon styling him the heir for a day. After he goes on to say how it will be him and his seed who sit the iron throne. “If his heir won’t sit the throne at least mine shall after I fill his daughter with my seed.” I corroborated this report with three separate witnesses. The evening was by all accounts a celebration.”

You sat in shock at Otto’s words. You watched as your father ordered his guards to have Daemon sent to the throne room. You left to your chambers. Rhaenyra followed close behind. Once alone she spoke first.

“I’m not sure what’s more upsetting, our uncles words or your betrayal.” Rhaenyra speaks coldly.

“My betrayal? Pray-tell sister, how do I betray you?”

“You let him take you to Dragonstone like some whore. Was it worth it? Being sullied by him just to have him run into the arms of another whore.”

“You dare call me a whore? You know nothing baby sister, don’t you dare act as if you do. I remain as virtuous as the day I was born. He may have ran into the arms of his whore but he has never had me! I swear it on the memory of our mother, I have not laid with Daemon in the matter of which you accuse me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Rhaenyra began to cry. You embraced her in a hug.

“It is alright. I forgive you. I know, what we heard was upsetting. Father will talk to him and then I. I will get us answers. I swear this to you.”

“Okay.” She whispered holding onto you. You waited a while before leaving to Daemons chambers once Rhaenyra fell asleep in your bed.

You found him being watched by a knight of your father’s kings guard as he packed his belongings.

“Leave us.” You command as you enter.

“I can’t do that princess.” He says.

“You can and you will, your princess commands it. Shall he escape I will ensure you will not face the wrath of the king. Now leave us.” You promise him. With this he takes your word and waits outside the door while you talk to Daemon.

“You heard.”

“Heir for the day?”

“Y/n.”

“No! I can’t believe you Daemon,”fill his daughter with my seed.” What kind of nonsense is that?” You shouted at him, all he could do is reach out to you. You quickly stepped back.

“Do not touch me after you lay with your whores. I truly hope it was worth it because you will never have me not after this. You swore you would be here for me! You don’t even last a fortnight before you get your self exiled! You made a mockery of my dead mother and brother. Of me!”

“Who is to say I want you! I’ve never made such a proclamation!” He shouts back at you. You stare at him in shock, was it all in your head? Did he just see as another one of his whores when you bare with him on Dragonstone, the nights spent in his arms. The kisses and care in his touch. You step back from him.

“Y/n” he reaches for your arm once more. You step back again.

“No. I apologize uncle. I believed something that was not there.”

“Y/n.” He called your name once more.

“I’m sorry I ever believed you to be the man I need.” With that you left him there and made your way back to your chambers. The guard escorted Daemon to the dragon pit. You heard of your father exiling your uncle to the vale with his wife. You stayed in bed. For days on end.

5 months after Daemons exile your father called you and Rhaenyra to the cellars of the red keep.

“What is it farther.”

“My darling girls. It has been sometime.”

“You have not talked to us in 6 months” Rhaenyra states.

“And I apologize. When you see dragons, what do you see.”

“Father what is this?” You question him.

“Just tell me what you see.” He repeats himself.

“I suppose I see us, they say Targaryen’s are closer to gods than men and they say that because our dragons. Without them we are just like everyone else.” Rhaenyra says.

“I’m sorry Y/n, Rhaenyra. I have waisted the years since you were born on wishing for a son. You are the very best of your mother and I believe it and I know she did that you could be a great queen, ruling queen.”

“Father. Daemon is your heir. Y/n your first born.”

“I understand but I believe that it is you that can unite the realm when the time comes. Only a strong ruling king or queen can do that. While you are strong and passionate Y/n is level headed. Y/n you will need to protect your sister, guide her as heir to the throne. It is you who I believe can do that best. You are caring and quick thinking, you have always protected and cared for Rhaenyra, more so now while you both mourn the loss of your mother you have remained strong and reliable through it all.”

“With Rhaenyra on the thrown and you as her council, her hand. The realm will remain strong long after my death.”

With in 3 days time the realm was pledging their loyalty to the crown, to king Viserys and heir to the throne Princess Rhaenyra. And while you would never admit it to your sister, you were hurt that your father named her heir and not you. You knew in your heart it was punishment for your time on Dragonstone with Daemon. Nonetheless you bent the knee pledging your loyalty to your sister.

~time jump~

1 month time has gone passed. Your mother dead 7 months. Your uncle gone for 6 months, squatting on Dragonstone. Apart of you wanted to fly to him be done with the politics, for him to take you as his wife in exile. But you were still hurt by the last words he spoke to you, and you were needed in kings landing. Your father, Rhaenyra. You sit at the small council table while your sister remains cup bearer. Frankly you and Rhaenyra are exhausted of hearing talk of your father needing to remarry. Lord Corlys keeps pushing for father to marry Laena. While you and Rhaenyra understand it was to happen with time, the vultures push to rush.

An emergency small council meeting was called. You and Rhaenyra hurry your way to the council room. Upon entering there is dragon keeper waiting to speak.

Ziry occurred isse se blackness hen bantis, issa lords, during se hour hen massa. Se thief eluded īlva pursuit

(It occurred in the blackness of night, my lords, during the hour of the Bat. The thief eluded our pursuit.)

Skorkydoso iksos ziry possible bona nykeā zaldrīzes’s drōmon istan stolen hen hen hen gōvilagon tolī than tōmēpsa zaldrīzes keepers?

(How is it possible that a dragon’s egg was stolen out of from beneath more than fifty Dragon keepers?)

Ziry istan prince daemon qilōni istan se culprit, aōha dārōñe…

(It was Prince Daemon who was the culprit, your grace…)

“Daemon?” Your father spoke in a questioning tone, questioning himself as to why Daemon would do such a thing.

“The prince left a missive, which I believe might explain.” Spoke Otto.

“It is the pleasure of Daemon Targaryen, the prince of dragonstone and rightful heir to the iron throne, to announce that he is to take a second wife in the tradition of Old Valyria. She is to assume the title of Lady Mysaria of Dragonstone. Her grace is with child and is to have a dragons egg placed in the babe’s cradle in the custom of House Targaryen.” Maester Mellows pauses. “The prince has invited you to his wedding, your grace. It is in two days time.”

“Gods be good” mumbles Tywin Lannister.

“Who is Lady Mysaria-“ Corlys begins to question but is interrupted by Otto.

“Daemons whore. This is nothing less than sedition.”

“I strongly agree, sire.” Agrees Lyonel Strong.

Skore drōmon gōntan daemon gūrogon?

(Which egg did Daemon take?)

Se drōmon istan dreamfyre’s, prince. Keskydoso drōmon bona ao iderēptan syt prince baelon’s cradle.

(The egg was Dreamfyre’s, Princess. The same egg that you chose for Prince Baelon’s cradle.)

That was all it took for your father to finally take action. Seeing the hurt in Rhaenyra face. It was one thing to try to get a rise out of your father but to hurt his daughters was another issue.

“Assemble a detachment, Otto. I will go to dragon stone and drag daemon back to face justice myself.”

“Your grace! My apologies your grace but I cannot allow it. It is to dangerous. Daemon is without limit. Let me go to dragonstone.” With that Otto begins to give orders to Ser Harrold to gather men to prepare the ship to set sail to dragon stone.

Rhaenyra pulls you aside away from your father and the other men. “We are going to Dragonstone.”

“Nyra. No.”

“It’s to prevent blood shed. You know just as well as I do Daemon would love nothing more than to have Otto’s head on a spike.”

“I suppose. I don’t see the harm that though.”

“Y/n. I can retrieve the egg and if Daemon sees you and Dirrax it will force him to keep his temper under control.”

“I’m not his keeper. If Daemon wishes to kill. He will. Nonetheless I shall go. Only for you though.”

I will meet you at the dragon pit at the hour of the bat in 5 days time. The journey will take a long while, especially with Syrax never having done the journey. Prepare him for it. We will arrive when the ships arrive.”

Thankfully she listened to you, and in 5 days you both had changed into your riding leathers and met at the dragon pit. You opted to wear your black cloak over yours and to take the secret passage ways. You followed her closely behind on Dirrax who was double the size of Syrax.

Once at dragon stone Otto’s men had already arrived both sides with their swords in hand. And a woman in white with brown hair stood next to Daemon. Must be his whore you thought to your self. You had heard of her, never seen her. Your heart ached to think that she was carrying his child. While it had been 5 days since you learned of his betrayal, you hadn’t allowed your self time to process it fully. Being to busy with Rhaenyra. You hear Caraxes screech as he crawls the hill behind his rider. He must sense Syrax and Dirrax who begin to screech in response. Rhaenyra and Syrax land first, and you second behind her. It is then that the men “sheath the fucking steel” Otto yells. Rhaenyra dismounts from her dragon while you remain on yours. You have faith in her ability to handle your uncle.

“Issa kepa brōstan issa prince hen zaldrīzesdōron. Bona iksos issa sombāzmion ao issi living isse, kepus.” Rhaenyra spoke first.

(My father named me Princess of Dragonstone. That is my castle you are living in, uncle.)

“Daor ēva ao become hen age. Plus hae iksos aōha mandia” your uncle remarked.

(Not until you become of age. Plus as is your sister)

“Ao emagon angered aōha dārys.”

(You have angered your king.)

“Nyke don’t ūndegon skoro syt. Bisa iksos nykeā tubis hen biarves. Nyke naejot sagon.”

(I don’t see why. This is a day of celebration. I am to be wed.)

“Ao emagon nykeā ābrazȳrys.”

(You already have a wife.)

“Daor mēre hen issa.”

(Not one of my choosing.)

“Se bisa ao naejot laodigon issa lēkias drōmon?”

(And this required you to steal my brother’s egg?)

“Ao se aōha mandia rūsīr nykeā zaldrīzes skori ao istan āzma. Nyke jaelagon keskydoso syt issa riñnykeā.”

(You and your sister shared a cradle with a dragon when the two of you were born. I want the same for my child.)

“Aōha naejot emagon nykeā riñnykeā.”

(Your to have a child?)

He looked back at his whore.” Mēre tubis.” (One day) with those words you scoff as you watch your uncles whore leave.

“I’m right here, uncle… the object of your ire, the reason that you were disinherited. If you wish to be restored as heir you’ll need to kill me. So, do it. And be done with all this bother.” With that he looked at the Otto and the other knights, to rhaenyra. To you. And turned to walk away and quickly tossed the egg to Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra placed the egg in pot of fire and mounted Syrax. She left on Syrax thrilled at her accomplishment, she yelled with joy as she flew away on Syrax. While y/n and Dirrax stayed on the wall.

“Sōvēs Dirrax.” Once well in the air y/n let out all her emotions. Crying and screaming

“Dirrax. Dracarys!” With that Dirrax let out a large breath of fire that filled the sky. And they stayed behind Rhaenyra the whole way back kings landing.

A knight alerts your father of yours and Rhaenyra return. You both are then taken to his chambers.

“You fled kings landing without a word. And you acted without the crowns leave. You two are my only heirs. You both could have been killed.”

“May we sit.” Rhaenyra ask.

“You went to dragon stone.” Your father repeats himself.

“And retrieved the egg without bloodshed. A feat I’m not sure Otto could’ve accomplished alone.” Rhaenyra points out.

“Yes, well…” he laughs. “ I sometimes forget how much you both are like your mother. Your mother’s absence is a wound that will never heal. Without her… the red keep has lost a warmth that I dare say it will never recover.”

“It pleases me to hear you say this. To know that y/n and I are not alone in our grief.”

“I wish I had known better what to say to you both in the aftermath. I struggled to realize that both my daughters had so quickly become women grown. But I know she understands what is now expected of me.”

“The king must take a new wife.” Rhaenyra says fighting back her tears.

“I could never replace your mother. No more than I intended to replace you as heir but you both are my only heirs and our line is vulnerable, to easily ended. And by marrying again, I may begin to ensure that we are better defended.”

“Against whom?”

“Whomever may dare to challenge us. I do not dare to make us estranged. The three of us.”

“You are the king and so, your first duty is to the realm. Mother would’ve understood this. Just as I do.”

“And I.” With that you and Rhaenyra leave to your chambers to sleep. And nothing could have prepared the two of you for the council meeting that would be held in the morning.

Your father stands at his chair with a nervous expression on his face. He looks to and Rhaenyra for reassurance. Rhaenyra nods her head and smiles in reassurance to him and he begins to speak.

“I intend to marry…. The lady Alicent Hightower before springs end.”

“This is an absurdity, my house is Valyrian. The greatest power in the realm.” Says Lord Corlys now stood from his seat.

“And I am your king.” With the Corlys leaves. And Rhaenyra fights back her tears in shock and betrayal. She then leaves before anyone else can see her emotions.

“Yes if you were to marry Laena. Not her only friend. This is a betrayal from not only you but Alicent as well. You mislead us both into believing you were to marry Laena.”

“Rhaenyra.” Your father calls out to her. Once she is gone your father looks to you.

“Last night, she said she understood.” He says to you.

“You assumed-“

“No! There was never any mention of Alicent in any of your conversations to wed. You walked with Laena. You questioned your council on whether marrying Laena was the proper thing to do.”

“Y/n.”

“No, now if you will excuse me. I have a mess to clean up that you have created.” With that you left to comfort Rhaenyra

Chapter 4

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gumycandyyy · 1 year

Note

Heyo I'm here to request that Male Reader x Winter King you wanted-

Anyways, can you write for a male Reader that used to be Simon and Betty's friend before the crown and the Mushroom War, who randomly shows up in the Land of Ooo? As in, Simon thought that they had died a long time ago, alongside Betty, but the Reader had survived through some odd means and got reunited with him?

Lol, if that's too much, then I'm sorry. It could be a fic or Headcanons, whichever you prefer!

⠂"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴏʟᴅ."⠐

⠂"ᴡᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ."⠐

AHJFHJGSKHA HOW DID YOU KNOW I WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT SIMON?? I LOVE THIS WET CAT.

Winter King actually isn't this one, because I wanted to focus on Fionna and Cake ver. Simon

Male reader

Platonic/Romantic (I'm leaving it ambiguous, because I mean, c'mon. It's Simon.)

Type: Headcanons (With a drabble and oneshot mixed in)

Summary: An old friend shows up after a bunch of time-related shenanigans, and is finally ready to settle back down in Ooo. Though this sudden happening is quite a shock to Simon.

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

-You used to be an old family friend of Betty's, and met Simon through her.

-Y'all were really close, and they invited you over for dinner every other weekend.

-But one day, you just...

-Vanished.

-Everyone thought you were kidnapped, and Simon and Betty were heartbroken.

-However...

-Through some odd means, you were kept alive for a thousand years.

-It all started one weird day when you bought a little doodad from a garage sale.

-the next thing you knew, you were in a big yellow cube with a pink wall guy.

-Apparently the little thing you bought was an item from another universe, and it was janking up Ooo.

-Aaaaand technically you just committed a serious crime by purchasing the little thing.

-And whether intentional or not, you now had to go on trial for this little accident. You tried to explain what happened, but you were found guilty.

-You were sentenced to a thousand years in some donked up time jail.

-Apparently, you wouldn't age in there, and a thousand years would pass on Ooo before you were set free.

-It was the worst thing that could've ever happened to you.

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

-The time jail kept you from losing your sanity, and a thousand years later, you were released.

-You were teleported back to Ooo, which looked quite different than how you remembered it.

-It felt like an eternity since you've seen rolling green hills and a clear blue sky. An eternity since you've breathed familiar air.

-You heard something, about a hundred yards from you.

-You approached the loud noises to see some buff dude with a sick beard and robotic arm beating up some one-eyed monster.

-He punched the creature, and it was sent flying towards you.

-You ducked, and the dude noticed you.

"Ah, sorry man! Didn't see you there!"

-You assured him it was nothing.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

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You shook your head, then blinked confusedly. Well, technically you were. It had just been 1000 years. You tried to get your story straight, then told the guy.

"Woah, so does that mean you're technically a time traveler?"

You shrugged. Time travel hadn't been proven yet, has it? You weren't sure. You asked the guy his name, so you didn't have to refer to him as just 'the guy.'

"Oh, yeah. Name's Finn. Good ol' Finn the H."

"The H.?"

"Y'know, the Human?"

But you were human too. With all due respect, you asked him about his strange surname.

"Oh, uh.. My real last name is Mertens, but I like 'the Human' better. It's only recently other humans have started living in Ooo. So I'm kinda seen as 'that one human' y'know?"

You nodded, trying to make sense of what he said. what had happened that caused humans to leave Ooo? How was that even possible?

The two of you talked for a short while, and you learned a little bit about Ooo. You were used to knowing a lot, but you barely even recognized this place.

"Oh, you're from the 20th century, right?"

You nodded.

"I've got a friend from then, maybe you'd like to meet him? He's one cool dude."

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-You agreed politely, wondering if this 20th century man would help you adjust to life in whatever century this was. What century was this anyway? 30-something?

-Finn ended up taking you to a scrappy little bar filled with people that looked to be made out of candy.

"Anything you'd like to order?"

"Nothing for me, Dirt Beer Guy. Maybe he'd like one, but we're just waiting for-"

⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂⠂

"Simon?"

You stared in disbelief at the face of your old friend, who looked at you with the same expression. He was carrying something under his arm, but he dropped it in shock.

"No way, you know him? That's awesome!"

Simon slowly walked up to you, as if afraid you'd disappear at any second. Tears welled up in the both of your eyes, and you had to suppress breaking down right there. It hadn't occurred to you that this 20th century man could've been Simon, but now that you were seeing him, you realized you subconsciously wished it would be him.

He spoke your name softly, not much more than a whisper, as if anything louder would cause reality to shatter, or one of you to wake up from a dream.

"You... You're really here, aren't you?"

You nodded softly, not daring to say a word. Tears spilled out of your eyes, and Finn looked slightly confused.

"Do you guys, uh.... Wanna step out for a minute?"

You agreed, still quietly, saying it would probably be better to not make a scene. Finn gave you a thumbs up and shooed you out, saying he'd wait for you when you got back inside.

You stepped out of the little bar with Simon, realizing it got dark out while you were inside.

"So..."

"How about we take a walk?"

You nodded, falling into step with Simon as you walked into a nice little forest. The small stream rushing by provided ambient noise.

"How are you here..?"

Simon asked, with an air of disbelief. He blinked, wiping his glasses and rubbing his eyes. As if you'd disappear once he'd open them. You explained what happened, and suddenly gasped.

"If you're here, that means Betty must be here too, right? Where is she?"

Simon sighed, bringing his arms up to hold himself.

"She's..."

"She's not."

You decided not to pry, but you couldn't help but notice the sinking feeling in your gut. She was one of your best friends, and she was gone. But she was Simon's fiancee. It must have hit him harder, whatever happened to her. You'd ask later, when the emotional turmoil between the two of you wasn't so fresh.

You walked in peaceful silence between the two of you, listening to the sounds of the stream, or chirping crickets.

You took that time to study Simon, how his appearance changed, and things that stayed the same.

Same fashion sense,

same goofy circle glasses,

even the same walk you remember.

There was a white streak in his hair now.

Wrinkles on his face.

Something about him just seemed so...

Sad.

"You've gotten old."

Simon smiled, though it seemed bitter.

"We both have."

"I missed you, Simon. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you, Betty, or any of our other friends."

Simon stopped walking, and you copied. He seemed as if he was about to cry again. To be honest, you were too. Talking about all of this while looking him in the face didn't fare well for your emotional state.

He took off his glasses, wiping at his eyes. Simon smiled bitterly through it though. He seemed to be so lonely. You wondered where he lived now.

". . ."

He wiped his eyes again, then looked straight at you with an unwavering gaze.

"You have no idea how much we missed you. Even years after you disappeared, we still looked. Even when the police failed, we still-"

He inhaled sharply, breath shaking. He turned his head away, as if ashamed of his emotions.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, trying to provide comfort. Simon suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into your shoulder. You returned the embrace, holding onto him just as tightly.

Simon's breath shook, and you softly rubbed his back. You had no idea what he's gone through, and you were genuinely unsure whether you were helping or not.

"Simon..?"

His grip on you loosened, and he looked up at you.

You said nothing else, but you gently rested your forehead on his. He sniffed, then took a deep breath. Your hands fell to his waist, while his rested on your shoulders. Simon closed his eyes, cherishing this small bit of comfort.

After a few moments, Simon pulled away, bringing his fist up to his mouth and clearing his throat.

"W- well, today was certainly... Eventful."

You laughed softly, agreeing with his remark. The two of you walked back to the little bar, realizing you'd gotten farther from it than you thought you did.

Simon cleared his throat yet again, once you reached the outside of the bar.

"Yeah, Simon?"

He thought for a moment, then spoke.

". . .Thank you."

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Thanks for reading! I absolutely loved writing this, and Simon needs a hug.

Your complimentary artwork ^^

reblog for a beginner writer?

#no beta we die like Jake #simon petrikov x reader #fionna and cake #fionna and cake x reader #pre fionna and cake events #simon petrikov #simon petrikov is a wet cat #fandom #brainrot #finn the human #adventure time #simon needs a hug #fanfiction #selfshipping community #simon petrikov x male reader

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gatorlovebot · 1 year

Text

this is a continuation of this king!simon blurb. read more of my king!simon blurbs here.

in the days following simon’s failed assisination there were changes made to the royal court. simon’s secretary, would never see the light of day again, his execution date set just a few weeks away. simon had demanded that it wait until he was well enough to go in to town to watch it for himself. you knew you would be expected to accompany him, but you didn’t know if you could stomach the spectacle. but all it took was you thinking of simon’s weak plead for help that day and any sympathy you had for the secretary and the position he had landed himself in were gone.

it had just been you and simon for the past few days. rare appearances from the doctor just to check on simon, make sure his healing was going as it should have been. he would grumble at every knock on the door disturbing the peace between the two of you, making you get out of his bed. you opened the door for the kitchen staff to bring in trays of delicious food for the two of you, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

it almost felt like you were in your own little bubble with your king. not to say it usually didn’t feel like that, stealing knowing glances in public, passing each other notes during boring meetings, spending almost every waking moment together. but now you were spending every moment together, crawling into bed with him late at night under the guise of someone needing to be in the room to make sure the king didn’t suffer some serious medical complication during the night with no one around to witness. but no complications or emergencies ever occurred, just you listening to his loud snores and counting his breaths as you lie against his chest.

the bubble, of course, has to pop at some point. i mean, he’s the king, and the kingdom needs its king back at some point.

after about a week there’s another knock on the door. simon made sure to tell his guards not to let anyone inside his chambers without going through you first. it’s not a designated meal time, so you expect to see the doctor, but you’re surprised to see an unfamiliar face standing next to one of simon’s most trusted advisors. all the advisor does is give you a polite, tight lipped smile as he walks past you into the room. his companion gives you a nod before following.

you’re used to it, being treated this way by the men that are closer to simon in creed than you are. you know that in your heart no one will ever be closer to simon than you, but there’s also a nasty little bitterness that tugs at you when simon’s men treat you like shit. you’re safe in your position with simon, not having to worry about losing your duty as his handmaiden since he’s assured you there’s no one else who could ever replace you, but you’ve also never felt comfortable standing up for yourself in the face of simon’s royal court. they are men who believe themselves to be higher than you, yet they understand your closeness to the king so they talk about you behind your back and more importantly behind simon’s back.

you will yourself to shut the door and turn back into the room, knowing simon’s mood will be soured with the unexpected intrusion. you had left him at his writing desk when you fetched the door, there were a few documents that had piled up in his absence that he was finally going through, nothing of great importance he had reassured you, but he had to get around to reading them at some point.

“your highness, it’s so good to see you looking better. we’ve greatly missed you these past few days.” his advisor greets.

“oh, i bet you’ve all just been twiddling your thumbs waiting around for me to resume my duties.” simon remarks, making himself chuckle. you politely try to stifle your laugh as you take a seat on the edge of simon’s bed.

“well, actually,” the advisor starts, “i’ve been working on finding you a new secretary, one that won’t try and kill you.” the advisor gives somewhat of a forced chuckle but the attempted joke falls flat. simon just gives him unamused eyes and an expectant look to continue.

“right, well, i found one and i just wanted to introduce you to him before he starts to take control of your affairs.” the advisor explains quickly, sensing simon’s impatience with the whole ordeal.

you had to admit that simon could be difficult. never really with you, but with other members of the staff and even with his royal court. the men that were closest to him he still kept at a distance, only half listening to their advice most of the time. simon was a man that knew what he wanted, knew how to rule his kingdom.

“it is an absolute privilege to work under you, your highness.” you do your very best to stifle your giggles as the new secretary bows to a very unimpressed looking simon. the advisor cuts his eyes to you and you can’t help but straighten under his scrutiny, but just for a moment until you remind yourself that you don’t answer to him.

“what a great show,” simon comments, voice dripping with disinterest. you’re shocked that he hasn’t ordered them to leave yet. “well, i hope you’re proficient in letter writing and note taking. and that you know how to keep your mouth shut until spoken too. that wasn’t the last secretary’s strong suit, was it?” the question is directed at you, more of an inside joke than anything. you can’t even count how many times you simon had shared knowing looks of boredom everytime the last secretary opened up his mouth.

you just smile, “not at all, your highness.”

the new secretary gives you a long look, one that lasts too long for your liking, seemingly trying to assess you. he’s snapped back into reality after a moment when simon clears his throat roughly, “yes, your highness, i am proficient in grammar and spelling and am ready to handle all duties assigned to me.”

you’ve seen this before, many times. new young blood trying to suck up to the king and it’s always so comical to you because at the end of the day simon does not care. simon doesn’t care about the little shit his court does or how they do it, as long as it gets done. he’s well aware that it takes more than just a king to rule a kingdom, but he doesn’t find it to be particularly important to be close to or even fond of any of his court members, except for you.

“well, the most important thing is that you need to get along with my handmaiden.” all eyes cut to you and you can’t help but feel a little unease, knowing that neither men probably understand or care about your role to the king. they probably just see you as nothing more than a woman in his bed. “she accompanies me wherever i go so she needs to always be aware of my appointments and affairs.”

“ahh, aren’t you a lucky king,” the secretary remarks with a glint in his eye that makes your stomach turn, “having a pretty young lady to follow you around wherever you go.”

simon suddenly stands from his chair, walking the short distance until he’s towering over the new secretary. “if that’s all that you think of her then you can pack your shit up now and leave.”

“no, no, your highness,” the secretary quickly attempts to back pedal. you can’t help but feel a little bit of satisfaction as he squirms like a cornered prey animal. simon is imposing and using his size advantage to strike fear into the man, you feel a flash of heat in your gut that you try not to think about. “i simply misunderstood, my apologies. i’m so pleased to be able to a serve under the both of you.”

under the both of you

almost like king and queen, you think, before physically shaking your head to try and rid the ludacris thoughts away. you weren’t queen and you never would be with the way simon’s men were trying to set him up with any and every available female royal on the planet.

simon just gives the secretary a hard look before cutting his eyes back to his advisor. “well, seems like we’re done here. you two get to work.”

you watch as they both thank simon for his time and scurry out of the room. he walks back and takes a seat at his desk, picking up one of the documents and going back to reading.

it’s almost comical, unintentionally, the way he scares someone shitless and then just goes back to doing something mundane. you can’t help but just look at him, wondering for the nth time how you got to be so close to this man.

“you’re staring,” he comments, not even looking up from the paper in his hand.

“i think you scared him.” you remark, feeling the need to acknowledge simon’s anger at the secretary’s words. he’s always been protective of you, holding you close to him in public, always having you stand next to him at his throne, speaking highly of you to anyone that will listen. lately he’s been more sharp with his men about you. it wages a war inside of you, part of you feeling the shame that his men desperately want you to feel, the other part of you feeling smug about having the king in your back pocket.

“good,” simon retorts, “i’ll make him wet himself the next time he says another cross word about you.”

“simon!” you shriek, “how crass of you.”

all he does is get up from his chair and walk over to the bed, pulling you down into his arms to try and suppress your giggles.

#gator.writing #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #cod imagine #cod x reader #king simon

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thought--bubble · 8 months

Text

In Need of an Heir Pt 7

Aemond X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings Below

Aemond (Canon Era) Masterlist

In Need of an Heir Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Aegon being a creep. Aemond is a little cunty, reader is too.

You wake up in a dark room, your legs numb from hanging awkwardly over the side of the bed. When you roll your head to the side, Aemond is asleep beside you, your two hands still gently wrapped around each other.

You hate to wake him up, but the need to move your legs supercedes your wish to keep him asleep.

You grunt as you sit up, and groan at the soreness of your back and start to try moving your numb legs around to get the blood circulating again.

Aemond wakes up with a jolt shooting up from the bed and then stumbling over his own numb legs before gripping the bedpost to hold him upright.

You can't help but giggle at his disheveled state.

"My apologies" He grunts "I am not accustomed to waking up with someone beside me.

"We did..... we did not perform our marital duty. They will blame me" You nervously wring your hands knowing that it is partially your fault but what you don't want to do is have the King angry at you or Aemond.

"No one shall know. That will be a secret between you and I. " Aemond removes his dagger from the holster hanging over the chair next to the bed and nicks his wrist, allowing a few droplets to land on his sheets. "As you said before, does it truly matter if we do it today instead of yesterday?"

You nod your head at him gratefully. "Thank you"

"Hmmm." He nods curtly toward you. "Let us get ready for the day.

You leave his quarters heading back to your own to get ready for whatever today shall bring you. You snicker to yourself, knowing you were able to get around consummating your marriage, earning yourself one more day at least before Aemond attempts to stuff a child into you.

After getting dressed you are escorted to morning meal. King Aegon has requested the family sit down together this morning. You inwardly groan. This is the last place you want to be. All those eyes on you trying to decipher whether or not you and your husband did your duty. The thought of it made you queasy.

As you enter, you immediately locate Aemond in his usual seat at the head of the table. You sit to his right across from Criston and wait for King Aegon to be carried in.

"King Aegon second of his name" the guards announce as Aegon is carried into the room. You stand along with everyone else as he is carried around the table and placed between his mother and princess Jaheara.

"Ahhh, so we are all here, then," he loudly announces. Half of the big table is empty. An ominous reminder of just how many members of their family were lost during the great dance of the dragons.

"So. .. am I correct in assuming that everything went well last night?" Aegon immediately pries.

You can see the prickle that travels up Aemond's entire body at the question.

"All is well," Aemond curtly replies, seemingly annoyed at his brothers prodding.

"So I can expect a nephew? You were able to get the job done?" Aegon cockily smiles toward Aemond.

Aemonds knuckles turn white as he clenches his fists tightly in frustration.

"This is hardly table conversation." Alicent tries to politely steer the conversation away from the direction she knows Aegon is headed.

"Oh mother, calm down. I know my brother and sometimes...... he......struggles with these types of things. Just have to be sure. " Aegon snickers to himself like he just made the funniest joke in the world.

"Everything went well. He was kind and gentle, as a good husband should be. " The words seem to just come flying out of your face. You couldn't stand Aegon poking fun at Aemond. You felt the need to defend him as if it was your job to protect him.

"That..... that is most pleasant to hear my goodsister. " The look of shock on Aegon's face at your outburst wasn't difficult to see, but when you turn from Aegon and look at Aemond you are shocked to see him looking at you with a softness. He brings his hand over yours and gently rubs his thumb over your knuckle.

The rest of the morning meal is uneventful. When you rise to leave, Aemond accompanies you.

"You did not have to do that. I had it handled, " Aemond states as soon as you exit the room.

"Handled or not, I wished to say my piece, so I did"

He chuckles and scratches his chin. "Yes, it seems you did"

"Walk with me?"

"Is that not what I am doing currently?" He lifts his eyebrow and smiles.

You huff and lightly smack his arm. "I meant through the gardens. We had hardly any time to get to know one another prior to the wedding. I would like to at least know your interests and passions before you bed me"

"Shh," Aemond looks around like his head is on a swivel and you cringe.

"Right, should most likely not go announcing that through the hallways." You giggle and walk ahead. " May make our claims at morning meal less believable"

He stands still in the hallway, a small smirk on his face watching you as you beckon him to follow you.

"Well, come on then!" You start to walk toward the gardens without him. It only takes him about four strides to catch up to you.

"So.... what are your passions?" You question playfully.

"My passions?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Surely you aren't that dull. You have passions, I assume? Things you do that you find enjoyment in? For example, I enjoy reading." You wave your hand in front of you mimicking the act of turning a page in a book.

"I also enjoy reading."

You look at him exasperated. This was going to be a long, difficult process of getting to know him if all of his answers were going to be short and made up of no more than five words.

"Enjoy reading what?" You prod. You were going to get to know this man whether he liked it or not. You refused to spend your life chained to a cold stranger.

"Philosophy,history" he stares straight ahead as he answers and right before you release a sigh of frustration you are pleasantly surprised when it is him that tries to continue the conversation. "And what of you wife? What do you enjoy reading"

"Fantasy." A huge smile spreads across your face, and your eyes light up. " tales of heroes and princesses saved by their knight in shining armor who would travel the realm 3 times over just to get back to her."

"Hmmmm...." He strokes his chin briefly. ",You wish to escape"

You stop in your tracks and look up at him "what?"

"Fantasy. It's a means of escape. To immerse yourself in a world unlike your own. A world where there is love and passion, and a neat happy ending."

You crinkle your nose at him. "There is love and passion in this world, Aemond. Just because you choose not to experience it does not mean it does not exist"

"No. I'm the monster in those books. The one the hero slays, only in the real world sometimes the villain wins"

You roll your eyes, "the villains hardly ever announce that they are such. They do not feel like they have to. The world just knows" You start walking again. "No you are a lost character. Did some things he has not quite reconciled and is not quite sure where he is going."

"I know exactly where I am going." His voice is tense so you decide to keep pushing.

"Do you?" You enjoy pushing his buttons if not for any other reason then to break him out of his cold stoicism. Anger is an emotion a strong one and even if it is not the emotion you prefer to see it is something.

"The iron throne will pass to me upon me, brothers' death." He tilts his chin in the air, the pride emanating off of his body.

"That is where your body will be, but your mind, your heart, your soul. You do not know where those will lay." You put your hand to his chest over his heart.

"I told you already I am not capable-"

You cut him off. "What you say and what you do...... they do not align. The love for your mother is obvious. Any fool can see it. The love you have for sweet Jaheara, even the love and patience you have with Aegon! Maybe you will never love me, but you love them. I know you do. Thus you are capable."

"I am loyal to my family..." He trails off not wanting to continue the conversation but you are determined to make him see. You don't know why but you need him to admit he is capable. That there is something the two of you could work toward with time and effort. Some kind of hope.

"It is more than loyalty. If you can not see that, then you are blind. " You turn to head back to your chambers, deciding you have had quite enough of your husband for one day. Aemond is not finished yet.

He grips you by the shoulder and turns you around to face him. "Do not ever speak to me that way." He growls."You are my wife. You do not have to like me, but you do have to respect me. "

"I respect you just fine." You jerk your shoulder from his grasp. " but I do not believe you"

"Believe me?"

"You so desperately want the world to think you are cold, but I see it. The warmth it is in there, is it such a crime that I, your wife, wish to see it? That I do not wish to spend my days chained to a mountain of ice when I know there is a flame hidden inside?"

" You demanded the truth, and now that I have given it to you, you are unable to accept it. I did warn you." He closes his eye and clenches his jaw. "I am a creature of habit."

"I can not bare children for a man incapable of love! Could you imagine the damage that would be done to a child when their father does not love them?"

Aemond's shoulders slump and he looks down to the floor. "I am painfully aware of what that can do to a child"

"Then why would you wish it upon your own children?" You again turn on your heel and sail down the hallways toward your chamber gritting your teeth.

"I will not have children with that man." You grumble under your breath.

"You will not be getting that heir from me"

Part 8

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drakoneve · 1 year

Text

Missing Memories Pt. 1

request: Hey! I saw that your requests are open so I was wondering if I could get a Daemon x fem!reader where they are happily married and one day reader has an accident and is unconscious for weeks and he is desperate and when she finally wakes up ( to make his despair worse) she has lost her memory (maybe she doesn't remember anyone or to be more distressing maybe she just doesn't remember him, I'll leave it up to you) Seeing her condition, Viserys and Rhaenyra + try to help by telling things about her and also about their relationship before the accident and how happy they were and completely devoted to each other, but it doesn't do much good. Seeing such a situation Daemon decides and is determined to win her back, at first she is defensive and even a little afraid of him (which makes him very sad, since of all of them she was the only one who was never afraid of him, nor even before they get together) the months go by and he has some advances +(like she starts to feel more comfortable around him and that sort of thing) one night she is talking to Rhaenyra when she gets a really bad pain in her head and flashes of memories begin to flood her mind, when rhae says she is going to call the maester, she runs off to Daemon's room (which was the room they shared before the accident) she enters and runs towards him and him. kisses passionately, when they break up she says she remembered everything. With lots of angst, fluffy, a little nsfw at the end (if you feel comfortable) and happy ending, please? (If you could also develop Reader's relationship with Viserys and Rhaenyra while she is out of memory I would be extremely grateful. Sorry for the amount of detail, feel free to ignore and sorry for my English)

pairing: daemon targaryen x y/n velaryon

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst, mentions of head injury, permanent scarring, blood and memory loss, oh and targcest but this is hotd so...

a/n: i’ve decided to split this into two parts so it doesn’t feel rushed! i’m not a dr and have no idea how head injuries/memory loss actually works. also the boar incident didn’t happen on Aegon’s nameday :)

The young prince Aemond’s third name day hunt in the Kingswood was meant to be a celebratory occasion. You’d arrived behind the immediate royal family, emerging from the carriage hand in hand with your love, the Rogue Prince Daemon. At first everything had gone well after the two of you arrived shortly after your younger brother Laenor and his cousin-wife Rhaenyra.

It had been far too long since you had celebrated such an occasion with your family as you’d spent the last few years living in Pentos with your husband. Daemon enjoyed Pentos, but you could tell he missed the west. He missed the Keep and the city he had known his entire life, and so you had managed to convince him to come back to King’s Landing, if only for a while.

Things took a turn when trouble came the next day in the form of an argument between Viserys and Rhaenyra over Gods knows what that ended in the king yelling in his daughter’s face in front of the majority of the royal hunt. Rhaenyra stormed out of the tent, and you rose from your seat to follow her but Daemon grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Must you chase after her?” Daemon asked, frown forming on his face. “Rhaenyra is quite capable of taking care of herself.”

You clicked your tongue at him and pulled your arm free of his grasp. “You know I must, Daemon. She is like a sister to me and you know that.”

It was true, the two of you practically grew up alongside each other as sisters would as the two of you were the only girls your age around (minus Alicent, of course). In the years before either of your marriages you would often join Rhaenyra and Syrax in the skies upon your own green scaled dragon Rixende.

You were just fast enough to catch up to Rhaenyra and her hose upon one of your own, alongside Ser Criston. The three of you dismounted your horses for the day as the sun had begun to set and you were too far away to make it back to the campgrounds before dark.

Rhaenyra sat in front of the barely light makeshift fire pit while you scavenged around for more fire fuel. The last thing you remembered before waking up in royal chambers was the snorting of a wild boar.

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Daemon knew something was wrong when he could not find the strength to will himself to sleep. His stomach felt like it had twisted itself into a tight intricate knot and in the back of his head he knew he was right in not wanting you to follow after Rhaenyra. Although Daemon loved his niece and held her very dear, you meant more to him than anyone else in the world.

He was awake when Rhaenyra and Criston rode back into camp, the princess screaming for the best healers present. Daemon nearly tore down the front of the tent with the force of his rage as he ripped through the camp, searching for you. He met a devastating sight.

Rhaenyra cradled your head to her chest as she held a soaked red cloth to your head, your own silver hair stained red with blood. The princess herself was stained in a fair amount of blood which would have been just as concerning but you were the one unconscious on the ground with a grievous wound to the side of your head.

Despite every instinct in his body to be by your side and let no one near you as to protect you from further harm, Daemon merely watched with a cold glare as the healers pushed Rhaenyra away and began to stitch at the open wound on the left side of your head just above your ear.

Daemon instead turned his fury to Ser Criston, who seemed to be the only one of the three of you completely free of blood. The sight of him, clean in the face of the love of his life and his niece blood soaked while a pathetic excuse for a knight of the Kingsguard stood idly by in spotless armor, woke the dragon within the Rogue Prince.

Criston hit the ground so hard it knocked the air out of him. Before he had the chance to stand, or even catch his breath, Daemon kneeled over him to deliver several hard blows to the face of the knight.

Criston’s nose cracks under the force of Daemon’s blows, blood spurting down his face and chest.

Daemon gripped the neck of Criston’s armor and raised his now bloodied face to meet the prince’s. “What the Seven hells happened out there?” he growled out. “and if you should tell me anything but the truth I’ll have your head on a spike!”

“A boar,” Criston croaked out before spitting blood out onto the side of his face and to the ground. “A wild boar attacked the princesses. Princess Rhaenyra was brave enough to face it after it attacked Princess Y/n.”

“How worthless you’ve proven to be,” Daemon spat in return. “Leaving the princesses to fend for themselves. If my wife dies, I’ll feed you to Caraxes myself. I might do it anyway!”

All the commotion woke the entire camp and by now a large circle had formed around the royal family as King Viserys ran towards his brother. The king pulled on his brother’s shoulder and off of Criston.

“Daemon enough!” Viserys urged. “There’s been enough bloodshed for one night, brother. You must focus your energy on your wife.”

The comment lit a fire in Daemon’s chest and he shoved his brother’s hand away. “Do not speak to me of the duties of a proper husband.”

He brushed passed the king to join the healers at your side. The stitching was finished now, and by the looks of it Daemon knew it would leave a welted scar just above your left ear. With the most care he had and as gentle as he could, Daemon lifted you from the ground where you laid and brought you back to the tent you two shared.

The healers followed him inside to give Daemon instructions of how to clean the wound throughout the night before excusing themselves, ushering the prince to call for them if need be.

Daemon leaves your side briefly only to finally remove his armor. He reattached Dark Sister to his hip before pulling a chair to your bedside and taking your hand in his. He thought of the night he saw you for the first time since before leaving for the war in the Stepstones.

It was Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding, and you arrived with the rest of your Velaryon kin to the throne room. Daemon hadn’t seen you since before the war in the Stepstones when you were still a young girl and he was surprised to see the beautiful woman you’d grown into.

The eldest of Corlys and Rhaenys’ children, you wore a sea green satin dress to represent your house. Daemon couldn’t help but admire the way it flowed around you as you twirled around the dancefloor with your sister Laena.

He ignored the stares of others, namely Corlys and Rhaenys, as he split the dancefloor in half on his way to you. He graciously asked for a dance, and had expected you to reject him. No doubt Rhaenys had filled your head with every filthy thing the realm had to say about him. And if not her, surely one of your handmaid's had.

You surprised him, though, when you smiled up at him, and accepted his invitation. Daemon took control, wasting no time in taking your hand into his own while wrapping his other arm around your waist to lead you.

When the music slowed down you’d began to pull away from him, but Daemon only tightened his grip on your hand and his other arm around your waist to pull you closer into him.

“Must you leave me so soon?” he’s asked you softly. “The nights only just begun.”

Daemon charmed you into one more dance, which he dragged out into dancing the rest of the night until the unfortunate demise of Ser Joffrey due to Ser Criston’s outrage. After that night Daemon whisked you away to Pentos, where the two of you were wed under the traditions of Old Valyria.

He took you flying across Pentos upon Caraxes, showing you wonders of the world you’d never even dreamed of seeing. Daemon remembers your excitement fondly as he’d spent the majority of the flight memorizing the smile on your face and shine in your eyes.

Daemon rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand almost in an attempt to wake you. He new it wouldn’t happen this night, you’d been given too much milk of the poppy for that, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

He spent that first sleepless night by your side and remained there while the maesters prepared you for the ride back to the Red Keep for proper medical treatment.

Daemon stood outside the carriage with a heavy watchful eye as the maesters secured the makeshift cot to the carriage. Out of his periphrial Daemon can see Rhaenyra approaching, and while he normally dotes on his sweet niece, in this moment his stomach turns at the sight of her.

It should have been her. He thinks to himself. Not my precious wife.

Rhaenyra is respectful in her approach as to not set off her reckless uncle. Her lilac eyes rake over your injured form, guilt eating away at her.

“Any word from the maesters, uncle?” Rhaenyra asks softly.

The prince takes in a breath, soothing himself the way he know you would. He knows if the roles had truly been reversed then nothing would stop you from aiding the princess in any way. In his heart he knows he shouldn’t blame Rhaenyra, she’s the one who saved your life after all, but he can’t stop himself.

You should be awake, by his side. You should be enjoying the young prince’s nameday celebrations as you always did.

“They do not know why she hasn’t woken,” he explains solemnly. “I have requested the best maesters from the Citadel this morn.”

Rhaenyra nods, before looking to her feet as she twirls her golden rings. When she looks up again, Daemon turns to meet her gaze before he can stop himself and he can’t overlook the tears in the princess’s eyes.

“Iksan sīr vaoreznuni, kepūs (I am so sorry, uncle),” Rhaenyra mutters tearfully. “I should have protected her. I should have-”

“No,” Daemon interrupts her, knowing it’s what you would do. “You are lucky you escaped unscathed, princess. She will heal. She will come back to us, this I know.”

One of the maesters then steps off the carriage and approaches the pair. “Pardon me, my prince, but the carriage is ready. It is best for the princess that we do not delay our travels any further.”

“Of course,” Daemon nods. He gives Rhaenyra a hopefully reassuring hand on her shoulder in a goodbye before joining your side once more.

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Despite the arrival and treatment of two maesters from the Citadel, and one healer Daemon flew in from Pentos personally, you had not woken.

After the wound on the side of your head began to heal and the maester took out the stitching, worry began to truly settle into Daemon’s core. The maesters and healer both had done what they claimed they could yet could not give the prince an answer for why you had not woken.

Day after day for three weeks Daemon sat by your bedside waiting for you to open your eyes and come back to him. The two of you hadn’t been apart for more than a few days in the entirety of your marriage, and these weeks without you have been torture.

Today had been no different, it seems. Daemon thinks to himself as he enters your shared chambers, where you still lie upon the bed. One of maester Orwyle’s trainees is by your side but rose upon the prince’s arrival.

The man bows respectively. “My Prince, I’m afraid there’s been-”

You interrupt the maester with a low groan. “M-my head hurts,” you wrasp, eyes still closed.

“Go, fetch the maesters, the healers, someone!” Daemon bellows his demands to the young healer, who wastes no time in scurrying from the room.

Daemon rushes to your bedside where a pitcher and empty cup sit on the bedside table next to you. He pours you a drink and carefully holds it to your lips.

“Here,” he whispers gently. “drink this, darling. You will feel better.”

You do as he says, not consciously thinking of it, you only wished for relief from your terribly dry, scratchy throat.

Once you’ve finished, Daemon pours another in case but leaves it on the table. He sits, and claps one of your hands with both of his own.

“I was so afraid,” he confesses softly. He doesn’t look at you, instead he focuses his gaze on your bundle of hands. “So afraid you would not wake. I thought you were gone and there was nothing I could do.”

WIth your free hand you grasp the thick fur covering your legs and you pull it up to your chest, and wriggle your other hand free from Daemon.

“D-do I know you, ser?” you ask, and Daemon can see the confusion laced with fear in your eyes.

He’s always been able to read you and you’ve told him before it’s one of the things that attracted you to him. Not once, since that night he asked for your hand in a dance, had you ever looked at him and been afraid.

Not when he arrived on Driftmark upon Caraxes years before you wed, soaked in blood from winning the war in the Stepstones. That night you sat with him, alongside your father Corlys and brother Laenor, and begged for every detail of battle. As they relayed their stories of war to you your eyes gleamed, and you enamored Daemon from that moment on.

Daemon shot up from his seat as a sickening feeling took over him. He swayed on his feet, or was he really? He grips the hilt of Dark Sister in an attempt to steady himself.

Wordlessly he turns and charges out the chamber doors, letting them slam shut behind him.

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Once word had spread through the Red Keep that you’d finally woken you’d been swarmed by maesters and Pentosi healers bombarding you with questions.

How were you feeling?

What could you remember?

Why was Prince Daemon seen storming away?

You simply asked who Prince Daemon was, which stopped the bustle of your busy chambers.

“Have I said something?” you asked, blissfully unaware.

Laenor then bursts through your chamber doors, winded and eyes wide. His arrival sparks life back into the maesters and servants continue cleaning like nothing happened.

“Sister!” he gasps, rushing to your side. He wastes no time, carefully, wrapping you up in his arms from your spot on the bed. “I am so relieved to see you. How are you feeling? And where is Daemon?”

You groan, pulling away from your younger brother. “Why does everyone keep asking me about Daemon? I do not even know a Daemon! Have I missed something, brother?”

Laenor sits back slightly, lips parting. “Y-you do not remember? Y/n, Prince Daemon is your husband. You’ve been happily married for years.”

The two of you sit in silence as you do your best to file through your memories.

“I think I remember seeing him at court once, but I do not remember marrying him. How can I be married and not know it?” You push away from Laenor and stand from the bed. Without risking further bodily harm but as quickly as you could you slip on some simple shoes and pull a robe over your nightclothes.

Laenor follows you as you move about the room. “Where are you going? You’ve only just woken, you must rest!”

“No,” you insist, pulling away from his attempt to grab your arm to stop you. “I have a husband, whom I cannot remember. I have much more important matters than lying in bed all day.”

Many people watched you shamelessly as you made your way through the Red Keep looking for your cousin and close friend, Rhaenyra. If there was someone here who could help you make sense of things it would be her.

Eventually you find the princess sat under the weirwood tree in the Godswood, reading with a book in her lap.

“Princess,” you call as you approach. “Might I interrupt your studies for a moment?”

Rhaenyra’s head whips up, mouth slightly open in shock. She tosses her book aside carelessly and rushes to wrap her arms around you. The younger girl hits you with such force the two of you nearly tumble to the ground.

“I was so worried,” Rhaenyra whispers into your curly hair. “All I could think of these past weeks was your recovery, it’s all I have prayed for.”

“Yes, such is the sentiment I have been hearing. But I am afraid there’s trouble, cousin.”

Rhaenyra pulls away from the hug but keeps her hands on your forearms. “What is it?”

“I do not remember Daemon,” you confess softly. “Laenor informed me I have been married to Daemon for years, but I cannot remember any of it and it worries me.”

The princess’s violet eyes widen, “Nothing? Not even your time in Pentos?”

You shake your head mournfully and Rhaenyra’s frown only deepens. She pulls you to sit with her under the weirwood.

“Come, we must find a way to bring your memories back.”

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the-fiction-witch · 6 months

Text

The Snow P2

Media House Of The Dragon

Character Jacaerys Velaryon

Couple Jacaerys x Reader (Bastard Stark Girl)

Rating Sweet

Part One

Jacaerys remained in Winterfell for several days taking in the northern customs and sights even if most of it was mostly snow, he has made fast friends with Cregan Stark as his mother suggested he might. The two sat at a table in Winterfell's great hall, enjoying a flagon of mead each finally getting to the true meat of the discussion he had been sent here to discuss, they had been chatting about it intermittently during his time here but now was the real talks, they sat and discusses plans, oaths and the choices ahead.

Even if admittedly Jacaerys often glanced across the room to where Y/n sat in a beautiful silver dress that hugged her so perfectly and snugly his eyes often wonder to her, her eyes at times met his own which made him blush as admittedly her had an effort to appear more handsome tonight as he knew he would be seeing her. Over the days he had been here so far he had really grown interested in Y/n and he had a feeling she was interested in him too.

But he forced his attention back to Lord Cregan Stark,

“You’re mother wishes to start a war, with her own half-brother for the throne no less. Tell me… The Iron Throne and Kings Landing are thousands of miles away from the Winterfell walls, it would take a good two months to march an army down there and that’s without complications of the twins and any other issues in the Riverlands,” He explained, “Why should we involve ourselves in a war so far from our home? It makes no difference to us up here, so why should I risk my kin and my house in a war for who’s ass sits in a chair halfway around the world?” He asked,

Jacaerys nodded and he understood Cregan’s thoughts he had a good point and it was hard to disagree with him. The North could just stay out of this and be untouched by the war in the South, “You’re words have quite a bit of wisdom, but this war will not simply be contained beyond your borders, who sits on the throne will affect all of us from old town to the wall.” He explained, “And regardless your family swore to my mother, do your oaths not mean anything?”

“Oaths mean everything in the north,” He nodded, “There has never lived a stark who forgot an oath,”

“Then you cannot sit cosy in your castle while he sits on the throne.”

“But you see my concerns, by the time I walk my army down the war could be over. And what happens when we arrive at Kings landing in a war that's over, to fight for a side that lost? They would massacre us. And as much as our oaths are our law… you cannot expect me to allow my house, and the houses of my noble lords to be snuffed out,” He explained, “The Targaryen dynasty has already taken so much from us…”

“And he may take more from you still, you know your peace is my mother's greatest hope.”

“That is true, we do not know the man this king will be. But your mother… we know her ways and means, she is her father's daughter and her father was a man of peace and understanding.”

“Sometimes the best way to peace, is war.”

“Let us talk no more of it tonight,”

“Of course,” Jacaerys nodded, “May… My lord may I speak of something else?”

“Go on,” Cregan nodded sipping his drink,

“May I ask… about your kin?”

“Oh?”

“Y/n specifically,”

“She is a snow. But she is my sister. My blood. No matter what the laws of this land are she is my sister.”

“That is Honourable of you,”

“You know… there are rumours I have heard about your family-”

“It is… lies.” Jacaerys lied, he knew the truth but he knew best not to speak of it,

“Lies?” Cregan nodded with a smile, “What is your question in regards to my sister?”

“... Is she promised?”

Cregan snickered, “Why?”

“I… I admit, I have… I have caught her in my eyes and I would like to ask permission to court her,”

“you think you are the first to ask me that? I have been buried under marriage proposals for my sister. You are not the first nor will you be the last to ask to court her. The answer to you is the same as the answer to the rest I will not allow anyone to court Y/n. If a man wishes her hand he will bring a proposal and I'll wed her to the best proposal I am given.”

"So, then the question now is… what kind of proposal is sufficient for you?"

“I will make you a deal. We will join your mother's war the Starks and all the banners of the north with be on the side of her crown we will keep our oaths and back her. And as payment for all this war will cost us. And when your mother's ass is sat on that throne you will be her heir, so you will marry Y/n and have a stark as your queen,”

“I… I…” he stuttered, he knew this was a big thing to promise, the hand of an heir to the throne is not something to be given away so likely but he knew he had to return to his mother with the Starks alliance and… he wanted to return with Y/n in his arms,

"You drive a hard bargain, my Lord. Is this your full request?"

"it is. And when she gives you a son stark blood will be your heir. I will legitimise my sister and wed her to you in the godswoods and our oath, and alliance will be set as your vows.”

“You will support my mother, march to war with us, spill blood for us. And you will wed me your sister?” Jaracerys asked, “You give me your word in this?”

“You have my sworn word,” He offered his hand.

"Then, I accept your deal, my Lord, on the condition that she too agree to this proposal." he took this hand and shook it.

#jace velaryon #jace x reader #jacaerys smut #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #house targaryen #houseofthedragon #house of the dragon #house of the dragon jace #house of the dragon jacaerys #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd jace

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i-am-so-riddikulus · 2 years

Text

His Lady Wife

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader

Summary: part two to A Nightly Stroll, readers wedding night with daemon, and the reaction of all who find out

A/N: Wow! I was not expecting so much love on my last post! Thank you all so much! I wrote this as fast as I could for you all, so I apologize if it’s not as good. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: angst, smut, vaginal, unprotected sex, fingering, breeding kink, sorry if i missed anything

There became a moment when Rhaenyra started to notice something. She had always been close with her uncle, and when he was around less and less, she knew something was amidst. At first she thought he might be focusing on himself. After all, he was just back from the war at the Stepstones which took a little over three years to end. But with each conversation, each glance, each touch, she had figured out her mystery. All she needed now was to talk to you alone.

She chose to do so when you were in your chambers for the night, cuddled up with a book that Daemon had gifted you. A knock rapped against your door, “Come in,” you said, fixing your nightgown.

Rhaenyra walked in, still in her dress from earlier in the day. You quickly walked over to her, “Good evening, my Princess, what may you need at this hour?”

She smiled, pulling you into a quick hug, “Oh Y/N, you know you do not need to be so formal around me, it’s just the two of us, and you are my best friend.”

“Forgive me, it’s a habit Rhaenyra,” you apologized.

“No need to apologize either,” she laughed.

She walked around your room, looking at all the books that you had laid about. She picked up one, examining the cover, “I believe that I can trust you with anything, Y/N,” flipping through the pages, “and tonight I want us to be totally honest with each other,” she finally stopped at the last page, where Daemon had left a note for you. She looked at you with knowing eyes.

She started to walk towards you, “I myself have done something that I wish to tell you,” she paused, smiling sweetly, “I have taken Ser Criston Cole to bed.”

You couldn’t contain your giggling, knowing that Rhaenyra had found the knight most attractive for sometime now. You grabbed her hands, dying to know more, “Gods, how did it happen!”

She laughed, pulling your hands, “First I need you to tell me something that you did.”

Your heart started pounding, feeling your hands start to grow sweaty. You thought no one knew, not a single word about the night had been spoken by anyone. How did Rhaenyra know?

Did Daemon tell her? You knew they were close. “I,” you cleared your throat, “Well, recently I have had relations with the Prince,” you closed your eyes, expecting anger from Rhaenyra, but instead she was smiling.

“I knew it! First I noticed Daemon partaking in much more conversation with you, and then I saw all of the signs,” she seemed very proud of herself.

You were very confused, “What signs are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh you know, the glances, the touches. I’m surprised your own father had not noticed,” She picked up the book once again, “Not to mention this book from his own collection with a note to you.” she smirked, “So tell me dear friend, how did you woo my uncle?”

You laughed softly, “I wouldn’t say that I wooed him, it was definitely him doing the wooing.” It comforted you knowing that Rhaenyra wasn’t upset, she even seemed excited.

—

While you were having your talk with Rhaenyra, your father had finally noticed you. Unknown to you or Daemon, he had spies in the pleasure house. Otto had wanted to be rid of Daemon for years, dispersing spies all over King’s Landing to catch him in whatever chaos he chose to start. Otto Hightower prided himself in knowing just about everything that went on with his daughters. Alicent, she was married to the King and she bore him an heir. Y/N, she was his second born and all she did was read around the keep. He knew she didn’t do anything else, she had no suitors, and her only friend was Rhaenyra, or so he thought.

The night his informant came back with the news that Daemon Targaryen had taken his daughter, his youngest child, in a pleasure house, Otto was enraged. His room was a mess, books scattered across the area, table turned over, the food spilled on the floor. Immediately, he had gone to the King, only to find Daemon already there. “Ah, Otto,” the King spoke, “I was just about to summon you.”

Viserys walked over to the Hand, giving him a goblet, “Daemon has just presented me with a fine idea,” he smiled at his brother, “Daemon should marry your daughter, Y/N. I think they would make a fine couple, and I’m sure Daemon would treat her very well.”

Otto was quick to respond, “Yes my King, but Daemon already has a lady wife.”

Viserys’ smile faded, “Did you not hear, the late Lady Rhea Royce has passed.”

Otto looked back and forth between Viserys and Daemon, now realizing there was not a single way that he could say no, it was a fine choice for his daughter, a prince.

—

After your night, Daemon had become quite more open with his flirting with you. With no one knowing about what happened, it felt like your own little secret. His glances were longer and more open than before, as if he wanted everyone who’s you were. Each touch was longer, each movement of your hair seemed to linger around your face, making you lost in his touch. No one could question why he was doing it, now that you were openly engaged.

You wish that you could have told Alicent before the King did, before Daemon had proposed, but you did have enough time. Your relationship was falling apart with Alicent, and this had been the final straw. After a dinner with your father, Alicent had finally approached you since your engagement with Daemon. “I would think that you being wed to someone would include me,” she said immediately.

Surprised from the sudden intrusion you jumped, “Well, Alicent, I would think plotting to marry the King would have included me as well, but here we are.”

She let out a scoff, “You’re really still upset about that? I did the duty I had to, the duty of our house! At least father cares about what’s going on with me, because if he’s letting you marry Daemon he really has no care for you.”

You could feel the burn of your tears forming, begging them not to spill, “Good thing I’m not important enough to do my duty so I can marry the man I love!”

“You know nothing about love,” she said bitterly, “you barely know Daemon, you’ve done nothing with him, and if you did I would know.”

You walked right up to her, in her space, lowering your voice, “Oh yeah? Then explain to me how the Prince Daemon Targaryen fucked me raw in a pleasure house, and you had no idea.”

The look on her face made your pride swell. Your relationship with Alicent had finally broken, and you were no longer upset by it. She had been the block all along. Your entire life you felt you needed to to be just like her, you lived in her shadow. But now you truly realize your life is better, you can do what you want, you can marry who you want.

—

The preparations for your wedding started almost immediately after your argument with Alicent. Not much of the planning was on yours or Daemon’s part, as the King was extremely excited for his brother to finally be subdued. A royal feast was to be held after your ceremony, and then you would finally be alone with Daemon, for the first time since that night. You couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of finally being with Daemon again, feeling him again.

The day had gone by wonderfully, you and Daemon were now man and wife. Your sister Alicent was nowhere to be seen during the event, something to which had not gone unnoticed by the King. Before the end of the celebration, Viserys himself had apologized to you on behalf of Alicent’s behavior, assuring you that it will not happen at any other event of celebration for your matrimony. Daemon assured his brother it was okay, taking your hand to kiss it.

Daemon’s hand led you to your now shared chambers, his fingers woven in with yours. Once the door was open, you saw that there was fruit and wine on the table, and many more gifts around the room.

Once the door had closed, he wasted no time in bringing his lips to yours, already grabbing at your hips. “You looked ravishing all night, darling,” you felt his hot breath as he whispered against your ear, “and it was so hard to not just take you then and there in front of everyone.”

Moaning at his words, you put your mouth against his again, moving your hands into his hair. His hands ran along your waist, stopping to grab your ass, “All mine now,”

Daemon slowly untied the back of your dress, helping you climb out of it, you help him out of his as well. He walked you to the bed, laying you down, spreading your legs apart. His hand started massaging your thigh as he ran his fingers up your slit, “all this for me? I haven’t done anything yet,”

Your cheeks flush at his words, rutting against his hand, “Please, Daemon,”

He plunged two fingers into you, curling them into a spot that you didn’t know was in you. His hand laid across your navel, his thumb rubbing swift circles across your clit. Each kiss along your thigh surging with pleasure. You could feel the pleasure building, closer, closer, your eyes shutting, hips meeting his fingers. His movements stopped, “you’re cumming on my cock tonight.”

Daemon crawled up your body, fixing himself between your legs as he nipped along your neck. His hand cupped your breast, pinching your nipple. “I’m going to fill you up,” he said as he rubbed his tip along your clit, reveling in the way your body shuddered for him. He sunk inside you, giving you no time to adjust, his hand finding its way to your neck, squeezing slightly.

Each thrust hit that spot inside you in such a delectable way, making your mouth open in a silent cry. “Look at you, all cockdrunk on my cock,” his thrusts increased in pace, moving your knees to your shoulders. You couldn’t control the cry you let out as he hit so deep inside of you, stretching you so good, immediately making you cum on him.

His face scrunched in pleasure, his hair fanning around his face “mm Gods, you feel so good wrapped around me, your cunt taking me so well” his words already building another orgasm.

Each touch felt like fire, igniting pleasure along your skin, you moaned deeply, nails clawing against his back, head flying back as you came together, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he fucked you through both of your highs, bottoming out. You could feel him twitch with each spurt.

Daemon stayed inside you for a moment, catching his breath, before laying his head against yours. For one moment the chaotic Prince softened, his hand caressing your cheek as he kissed you softly. You smiled softly as he pulled away rubbing your hand along his chest. He looked over at you with a smirk, “Are you trying to go again?”

You laughed lightly, “I don’t know how you could possibly come to that conclusion, my Prince.”

He moved himself over you, hands on either side of your head, “Oh I think you do, my Princess, shall we go again?”

---

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farity · 1 year

Text

Let’s Pretend

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary: You suggest a pretend betrothal

Warning: Future Smut

“She is quite accomplished,” his mother was saying, listing every skill the young woman, currently pretending not to be aware of their conversation, was said to have.

A servant took his empty dinner plate and Aemond noticed a small strip of paper left next to his wine cup. He didn’t react, but looked around to see if anyone seemed to be expecting him to read it.

There were visiting nobles, but other than the girl his mother clearly wanted him to speak to, he saw no one else that would pique his interest. Pretending to be listening to his mother, he turned the little strip of paper over.

“West terrace, in grey.”

The handwriting was small and neat. Feminine. He crumpled the paper in his hand, felt for his dagger at his hip, and waited for a lull in the conversation to excuse himself.

“My prince?”

He turned to Ser Criston Cole, always alert for his family’s safety. “Nothing to worry about, stay with the queen.”

He walked around the opposite side of the courtyard so he could survey the west terrace at his leisure and saw only one person sitting there. She was writing something and not really paying attention but she was wearing a grey gown.

* * * * *

You saw the shadow falling over your notebook, then looked up into the face of prince Aemond Targaryen. “Oh good, you made it.”

“Who are you and what do you want?”

You told him your name, ignoring the rudeness in his tone. “I have an idea that may solve both our problems.”

His expression, a mixture of boredom and disdain, didn’t change, and he didn’t say anything in reply.

“I know the queen wishes for you to marry, yet you do not seem to be inclined to court anyone. I want to be left in peace and quiet but after last month’s wedding, I am the last daughter left in my house, and soon they’ll trot me out like a prized mare at auction.”

When he still said nothing, you thought maybe this had been a bad idea. But you’d started this conversation, and apparently you’d have to finish it.

“I suggest we form an attachment, only in pretense, of course. Once it is known we are betrothed, the pressure will be off both our backs and we can continue our lives without the intrusion of others.”

He sat down facing you, looked from your face to the notebook where you’d been drawing. “And why would I, a prince of the realm, in line to the throne, be betrothed to someone from a minor house, when we can gain much from a better alliance?”

You took a slow, deep breath, trying not to give into the urge to slap him. “I am highly accomplished and learned, I excel at all the gentle arts - I embroider, weave, sing, dance, and play, I-”

“And draw,” he added, condescendingly.

You slammed your notebook shut. “What I mean is, it is a perfect plan. We live far apart, so it could be a long betrothal, and while I might be from a small house, we are an old lineage and have a very competent army..”

He leaned back, crossed his arms.

Fine, if he didn’t want to go along, he didn’t have to. “The prince wishes for his attentions to land on more exalted territory, I see.”

Aemond shrugged, not denying it. “I am the son of the king. Brother of the future king.”

You rolled your eyes. “That is never going to protect you from being saddled with some obnoxious wife for the rest of your existence.” There was nothing to it, then. “But, I understand. I only ask you keep this to yourself, as I have other names on my list and only two more days here to figure something out.” You stood, gathering your pencils and eraser and took a step toward the staircase.

The prince’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

* * * * *

He remembered her now. He had met her before, the smallest of five children, one boy and four girls. She was usually trying to catch up to her siblings and Aegon had pulled her hair once.

Aemond knew well he was expected to marry, and to do so for the benefit of his house. He would do his duty, of course, but none of the ladies at court, nor the visiting nobles, had made a good impression on him. Not to mention half of them could barely manage to look at him and keep the fear and disgust from their expressions.

Her plan was a sound one, except for the part where sooner or later they would either have to marry, which would ruin the purpose of the whole thing, or end their betrothal, which would put them back at the beginning.

But it would buy him time. Time to maybe find a suitable wife. Time for Aegon to find his way. Not that he ever expected that to happen, but time might help.

He pictured her on his arm, standing next to him, underneath him in bed, and made an impulsive decision.

She looked down at the hand around her wrist and then back at him. “Prince Aemond?”

“You will burn your list,” he said, the sudden thought of her on anyone else’s arm making his stomach twist. “and I will make it known I am courting you.”

“How are you going to make it-”

He pulled her to him, grabbed the back of her head with his other hand and kissed her. Her lips were soft and sweet, and she made a little sound of surprise that went straight to his cock. He heard her book and other things falling to the floor, as well as the whispers of people witnessing the scene. He was still holding on to her wrist but he felt her other hand touching his face, the side with the scar. For a moment he panicked, wondering if this was where she’d realize her mistake and run away, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping in to taste her while he could.

Instead of running away she pressed herself against him, and Aemond realized he had to stop. He grabbed her arms and ended the kiss and saw the confusion in her eyes when he pulled back. “Take my arm and come with me.”

“My things,” she said absently.

“I’ll send a servant.”

* * * * *

By the time you retired to your chambers, it was all over the keep. People were looking at you, whispering, pretending to ignore you. The queen kept giving you appraising looks while the princess Helaena waved at you and smiled.

“My daughter, have you something to tell me?”

Your father’s voice startled you as you finished an earlier sketch.

“Father,” you said, “it appears I have caught the attention of Prince Aemond.”

“As long as that’s all you’ve caught.”

“What?”

Your father shook his head. “How long has this been going on?” he sat next to you, his expression kind as always. “He should have spoken to me before he approached you.”

“I think rules are different for the Targaryens. father,” you hated lying to your father, but you weren’t going to be married off to some strange lord who might be an abuser or worse. “I am sure he will speak to you soon.”

He kissed your forehead, then started heading out. “But tell me this,” he said suddenly, turning around, “do you like him?”

Oh good gods.

“Father, I do not think one likes Aemond Targaryen. One may respect and appreciate him, and you know me, I much admire learning.” You smiled at him, hoping he was convinced.

“Uh-huh.”

“Good night, father.”

You waited until the door closed behind him to exhale. Two days. You just had to get through two days and then you would be back home. You stared down at your notebook and scratched out the drawing you’d been working on.

* * * * *

“The Queen wishes to see you.”

You knew this was coming but to be summoned to the queen’s presence was unnerving enough that you had to take a couple of deep breaths before walking in.

The queen sat behind a desk, her father standing to one side, Aemond to the other. Your father stood across the desk, and he nodded at you as you came in.

You curtsied deeply to queen Alicent, then took the chair next to your father’s.

“My son has shared with me the affection and admiration he has for you,” the queen began, “something he has, clearly, managed to keep completely secret.”

“Your father has agreed to the terms and the dowry he will provide on the day of the wedding, as well as the vow to provide military support if needed.” Ser Otto Hightower looked at your father, and continued. “Prince Aemond wanted to present you with a betrothal gift before you depart tomorrow, and you are expected to dine with us tonight.”

Oh.

Aemond walked up to you, opened a small box that revealed a pendant with a sapphire in the center. “May I?”

You smiled up at him, “of course. Thank you,” you turned, lifting your hair so he could place the delicate necklace on you. You felt his fingertips brush against the back of your neck and barely managed to contain a shiver.

“It is beautiful,” you added, looking down to admire the sparkling jewel.

Aemond took your hand and kissed it. “It suits you. Will you walk with me?”

You nodded, and left the room on his arm.

Once the door closed behind you you blew out a breath and let him lead you outside the main building.

“Do you think they believed you?”

“I do not care,” he shrugged, “all that matters is that they accepted my request and made the necessary arrangements. You are still leaving tomorrow?”

Did he want you gone already?

“Yes, of course.”

You noticed the looks from people you passed, deferential toward Aemond, and a mixture of pity and confusion toward you. Frankly, you didn’t care. Your plan had worked, you could enjoy a few months of freedom, and then you would figure out what to do.

Aemond guided you around a corner and past a series of statues. “In a few weeks I will visit you. It would be appropriate and we can talk more about how to proceed.”

“Dear brother.”

Aemond stopped and you turned at the sound of prince Aegon’s voice. He was leaning against one of the parapets, half shielded by the side of the wall.

“You’ve been keeping this little morsel hidden.” His eyes went from the top of your head to the bottom of your dress, lingering on your breasts. “I can see why.”

“Your Highness,” you said politely, your fingers tightening on Aemond’s arm.

“This is all very sudden, isn’t it?” Aegon added, then glanced at your belly. “Do not tell me you are in a delicate state.”

Aemond stepped forward. “Of course not. If you will excuse us, brother.”

You could feel Aegon’s eyes on your ass as you walked past him, resisted the urge to turn around. Aemond pulled you closer to him. “Is that what people think? That I am with child?” you asked as you turned a corner onto an empty hallway.

“Does it matter?”

You stopped, letting go of Aemond’s arm. “Well, yes, but eventually people will know it is not true,” you mused, and caught him looking down at your stomach. “What?”

“Nothing.” He offered his arm again and you took it.

“I will see you at dinner, then.”

Aemond looked down at you before stopping close to your chambers. “Wear the pendant from now on.”

“I have some other jewelry that will be more suitable-”

He stopped and pulled sharply on your arm, making you turn around to face him. “If I say wear the pendant, then you wear the pendant. It is a gift from your betrothed and if we are to signify that you are mine then you must be mine in every way that can be perceived. You will wear the pendant every day, back home and here, you will write to me every other day and you will speak of the love you have for me to every person you fucking meet.”

Your eyes widened as he pressed you against the stone wall. “You wanted this and while I agreed, I will also make sure that you do things the way I want them done. I have done my part to ensure the news was made public-”

“By kissing me,” you said curtly, and his eye went straight to your mouth.

“Yes,” he said, lowering his voice. “It was quick and efficient, was it not?” He leaned in, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek. “The work of but a few seconds and an hour later the whole keep knew.”

He was warm, impossibly warm, his body almost covering you completely, and he began nuzzling your neck. “They will say they one-eyed prince has found happiness at last,” he murmured, and you closed your eyes. “The prince without a dragon now has both the greatest dragon of all and a beautiful wife.”

When he raised his head, you looked up at him and it was the most natural thing in the world to let him kiss you.

* * * * *

He had to stop. He kept telling himself just a few more seconds, but it kept getting more difficult to let go of her and in the end he had to shove away from her. Her cheeks were pink and she was breathing hard and now that he knew how she tasted he wanted more.

“Go change for dinner,” he said sharply, and turned to leave.

Aemond made his way to his chambers, throwing his weapons down with more force than necessary as he changed clothes.

She’d be gone tomorrow and he wouldn’t have to worry about her.

He sat by the hearth, realizing he didn’t want her to go. He threw off his jacket, disgusted with himself. He barely knew the girl, was this really going to be a problem? She was the fourth daughter from a barely relevant house, she wasn’t particularly beautiful or tall or graceful or had any distinctive feature that put her above other ladies. Once she was gone he wouldn’t think about her, wouldn’t recall the sweet taste of her lips or the scent of her skin.

He sat there for a few minutes before he realized he had been rubbing his fingertips over his lips for who knew how long, and wished it was already tomorrow.

* * * * *

Dinner was eternal, you decided later as you let the maid help you with your dress. Aemond had stared at you as you had walked in, and you had no idea if he was pleased with how you looked or thought you looked like a nightmare. He didn’t say anything, either, which didn’t help.

Your father seemed to enjoy himself, which at least made the whole thing just slightly worth it.

You’d go home tomorrow, which frankly, would be a respite from all the pretense and lies and all of it. You’d write to Aemond as he’d requested, that would be easy enough, although what you were supposed to write you had no idea because you barely knew him but you would think of something. He hadn’t said if he would write back, though.

As you slipped under the covers, you thought back to the kiss he’d given you this afternoon and the harsh way he’d ended it.

* * * * *

“We will be expecting you back for Aemond’s name day,” the queen said, “it will be good for you to become familiar with court life, being from such a faraway land as you are.”

She made it sound like you were from Essos, but you smiled and curtsied and then went up to Aemond, who was standing by the carriage with your father.

He extended his hand as your father walked into the carriage and you took it. He kissed your cheek, a chaste kiss unlike the previous two you’d shared. “When I get back to my mother’s side I want you to stop the carriage and run up to embrace me.” He pulled back and helped you get inside next to your father, and then began walking back.

You waved at everyone and sat back, keeping an eye on Aemond. The carriage started and once he was almost at his mother’s side, you hit the ceiling of the carriage. “Stop!”

You race out of the carriage toward Aemond, who catches you as you throw yourself at him and wrap your arms around him. You hear a sound of disapproval from the queen and ignore it completely, because Aemond’s mouth is on yours and he’s holding you tightly and now you really don’t want to leave.

But he pulls back and when he looks at you, he only nods, so you smile and turn around to get back in the carriage, and wonder if what you are feeling is going to get much worse.

* * * * *

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