#in this house we love and protect alicent hightower

[hella1975]

I'm watching the hunger games with people who's opinions I don't agree with HELP they literally don't get the implications of children murdering eachother like I do

(hella I've been reminded of you all day lol this is my 2nd ask about my day kfmsks)

that's genuinely so sweet i dont think you realise how much i appreciate things like this

oh bleugh i hate it when people just dont get a piece of media and ur just kinda sat there trying not to rant like 'you're all missing the fucking POINT'

[d-targaryenshoe]

To Protect And Adore - Aegon II Targaryen

Word Count: 1219

Summary: Queen nor a Princess shall threaten an unborn child, should they? Most surely not if it's the king's child.

The dragonfire flickered and danced in the hearth, casting long shadows across the walls of the Red Keep.

You sat in the dim light, your hands protectively cradling your swollen belly.

The child within you was a secret you had kept for as long as possible, but the inevitable truth could no longer be hidden.

You were with Aegon's child, a fact that could change many lives.

Aegon Targaryen, the king, had taken you as his mistress at the time when his marriage to Helaena had been strained and loveless.

You were no noblewoman, but your beauty and grace had caught the eye of the dragon king.

What began as a passionate affair soon deepened into something more, and now, you carried the heir to the throne within you.

But with Helaena's tragic death, the court was rife with intrigue and whispers.

Power was up for grabs, and the position of queen was vacant.

As you sat in the quiet of your chambers, a knock at the door disrupted your thoughts.

Before you could respond, the door swung open and Alicent Hightower swept into the room.

Her face was a mask of cold fury.

"Y/n," she began, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "You should not have allowed this to happen."

You rose to your feet, your heart pounding in your chest. "Your Grace," you said, bowing your head slightly. "I did not intend for any of this."

Alicent's eyes narrowed. "Yet here we are. You are carrying my son's child, a bastard that will only bring disgrace and scandal to this house."

You felt a surge of protectiveness for your unborn child. "He is Aegon's son, and nothing will change that."

Alicent stepped closer, her expression growing darker. "You are a fool if you think I will permit this child to live. There are ways to deal with such inconveniences."

Fear gripped you, but you stood your ground. "You would not dare harm your grandchild."

Alicent's smile was chilling. "You underestimate me. If you value your life and that of your child, you will leave and never return."

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to show weakness. "Aegon will protect us. He loves me, and he will not stand for this."

Alicent laughed, a cold, bitter sound.

"Aegon is weak. He is ruled by his desires, not his mind. But you are correct about one thing, he will protect you, at least for now. But even he cannot disobey me forever."

With that, Alicent turned and swept out of the room, leaving you trembling and alone.

You knew you had to tell Aegon, but fear for his reaction and what it might cost him stayed in your hand for a moment.

You could not put it off any longer.

The next morning, you went to his chambers.

Aegon was lounging on his bed, a goblet of wine in his hand.

His violet eyes lit up when he saw you, but his smile faded when he saw your expression.

"What is it?" he asked, setting the goblet aside and rising to his feet.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"Aegon, I need to tell you something. Your mother... she threatened me and our child. She told me to leave or she would... she would see to it that our child did not survive."

Aegon's face darkened with fury. "She said that? To you?"

You nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I am frightened, Aegon. I do not know what to do."

Aegon's hands clenched into fists, and he turned away, pacing the room like a caged animal.

"She has gone too far this time," he muttered. "I will not let her harm you or our child."

He strode towards the door, and you hurried after him. "Aegon, please, do not do anything rash. She is your mother."

He turned to you, his eyes blazing. "She may be my mother, but she has overstepped her limits. No one threatens my family. No one."

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you to follow in his wake.

You found Alicent in the throne room, deep in conversation with one of her advisors.

She looked up, startled, as Aegon burst in.

"Aegon, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded, rising to her feet.

Aegon strode up to her, his face a mask of fury. "You threatened y/n and our child," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"You think you can control me, manipulate me, but you are mistaken. I will not let you hurt them."

Alicent's eyes flashed with anger. "I am your mother, and I know what is best for this kingdom. That child is a threat to everything we have created."

Aegon took a step closer, pressing a finger to his mother's chest. "You do not get to decide who lives and who dies. I am the king, and I will protect those I love. If you ever threaten y/n or our child again, I will see to it that you are punished for this."

Alicent's face paled. "You would not dare."

Aegon grabbed her arm, his grip firm. "Try me."

For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills.

Then Alicent wrenched her arm free and took a step back, her expression one of fury and disbelief.

"You will regret this, Aegon," she spat. "You are making a mistake."

Aegon shook his head. "The only mistake I made was not standing up to you sooner. Y/n is carrying my child, and I will marry her. She will be queen, and our child will be the heir to the throne."

Alicent's eyes widened with shock. "You cannot be serious. The nobles will never accept her."

Aegon turned to you, who had been standing silently by his side.

He took your hand and looked into your eyes. "I am very serious. I love her, and I will do whatever it takes to protect her and our child."

Your heart swelled with love and gratitude.

Despite the fear and uncertainty, you knew you would face whatever came together.

Aegon was willing to fight his mother, and risk everything, for your love and your child.

Alicent stood there, her face a mask of fury and disbelief. "You are a fool, Aegon. This will be your undoing."

Aegon turned back to her, his expression hard. "If protecting my family is my undoing, then so be it. I will not be a puppet for you to bear. This is my decision, and it is final."

With that, he led you out of the throne room, leaving Alicent to fume in silence.

As you walked down the corridors of the Red Keep, Aegon squeezed your hand.

"Do not worry," he said softly. "I will keep you safe. No one will harm you or our child."

You nodded, tears of relief streaming down your face. "I know. I trust you."

Together, you faced the uncertain future, your love and determination stronger than ever.

Despite the challenges and dangers ahead, you knew you could overcome anything as long as you were together.

Aegon's promise to protect his family was a vow that would never be broken, and your love would become the foundation of a new era for the Targaryen dynasty.

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

I don’t understand the fandoms love for Daemon, by all rights he should be as hated as Joffrey was. Not only did he do almost everything Joffrey did, he also did worse. Even Tywin wouldn’t hold a candle to his cruelty. I understand liking a villainous character, I do too with Cersei and Tywin, but I’ve never went out of my way to whitewash their characters. I love them because they are villainous and practically irredeemable, if team black stans liked Daemon for his villainous actions before and during the Dance of Dragons I wouldn’t have any problems with it. But the fact that they go out of their way to defend him killing Rhea Royce because “he was forced into a marriage he didn’t like!!!!” As if she wasn’t too. And the fact that they defend him sending Blood and Cheese to psychologically torture Haelena and kill Jaehaerys due to “a son for a son it’s only right” when they despise Alicents moment of madness when her son was denied justice, makes me want to hurl.

It’s alright to like villainous characters, it doesn’t make you a bad person if you like them. But you know what makes you a moronic person? Whitewashing everything that makes a character compelling because you want to like them without seeming like a ‘bad person’. Your opinion on a character does not determine your own morality, it doesn’t make you better or worse than someone who hates them. But what it does, when you erase their entire identity as a rouge to make them more palatable to you, is make you seem moronic, stupid, and lacking any critical thinking and reading comprehension skills.

Rhaenyra is a compelling character because she is entitled and spoiled and lacks any political experience, she shows how badly Viserys fucked up when he tried to compensate for his guilt of murdering Aemma. Alicent is a compelling character because she is a mother who is trying her best to protect her children from the reality that if Daemon took the throne for Rhaenyra, he would kill all of them because they are a threat. She is even more of a compelling character in the books because of her ambition and cunning and want for her family to rise far above the ‘station’ of being a noble house in the Reach (as if house Hightower aren’t the oldest house in Westeros who could trace their lineage back to both the Garth Greenhand the high king of the first men and the Andal Kings that came afterwards). Daemon, for all that I dislike him as a character, is compelling for his ruthlessness and shortsightedness in his pursuit of the throne. He didn’t raise an army for Viserys because he thought he was a competent leader, he did it because it raised his own standing within Westeros, he groomed Rhaenyra not because he loved her, but because having him in her good graces means that he stood a better chance of being king after she was named heir. His ruthlessness is compelling. Taking it away to make him into a ‘malewife’ or a ‘loving father’ or a man who is lacking any ambition beyond wanting a valyrian wife is taking away his agency. It makes him seem like a Gary Sue who only wants the throne because his brother said Rhaenyra was heir. It makes it so that he is so completely white bread like that not even I, someone who loved the more morally bankrupt characters in ASOIAF can find him agreeable in any way shape or form.

Daemon is a fundamentally morally bankrupt character and he should stay that way. If you like him you should acknowledge and accept that he is one of the ‘bad guys’. Just as Cersei fans acknowledge and accept that she is fundamentally a morally bankrupt person who is selfish to the extreme. We like morally black characters because they are morally black. To make excuses for their actions is to take away their agency which makes them unlikable and very hate-able.

Daemons actions aren’t justifiable, blood and cheese would never be justified. A son for a son is akin to the visceral disgust the fandom had to Alicent when she asked for Lucerys’ eye, yet I bet when season two comes out and Blood and Cheese happens we’d see Daemon fans applauding and trying to justify it as ‘not that bad’ and ‘team green deserved it because of Aemond’s actions’ when little Jaehaerys, a boy of 6, was as far removed from the incident as can be. It would be akin to Team Green saying that due to Jaehaerys’ death, Aegon III or Viserys II deserved to have their head cut off in front of Rhaenyra.

Let morally bankrupt characters be morally bankrupt. You aren’t morally bankrupt because you like said character, it’s a fictional story loosely based on Empress Matilda. It’s not that deep. Like the characters you like without trying to justify their actions. They might be monstrous but you aren’t because you like them. It’s not a measure of your own character because you like said character. But it is a measure of your intelligence when you try to change said character’s entire personality to make it so that they are more digestible to you and everyone else.

[novaursa]

okk hear me out!

gwayne x daemon daughter // kink repro

We all remember the tournament in s1, just imagine viserys decide that his niece (who is younger than nyra maybe 16) should marry sir gwayne to make more strength between their houses.

time pass they fell in love in oldtown and they raided Daeron as their own. They all come back when Luke was name heir of drifmark (during the audience). Daemon is furious to see her with gwayne.

But their chamber is right next to daemon and nyra, and at night gwayne is way more than ready to make understand that she is his 😏🔥

In Defiance of the Dragon

- Summary: When your uncle, King Viserys, promised your hand to Gwayne, your father was least pleased about it.

- Paring: targ!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 4 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @holdingforgeneralhugs

The air in the tournament grounds is drenched with the scent of crushed flowers and churned earth, the banners of noble houses fluttering like the wings of restless dragons. The sun casts a golden shine over the scene, making the polished armor of the knights gleam like fire. You stand at the edge of the royal pavilion, a place of honor, though it feels more like a cage at this moment. Your heart pounds in your chest as the king—your uncle, Viserys—raises his hand to command silence.

The crowd hushes, anticipation hanging in the air. You can feel the weight of a thousand eyes upon you, but none as heavy as the gaze of Ser Gwayne Hightower. His presence is unmistakable even among the throng of knights, his armor adorned with the sigil of his house, the beacon of the Hightower shining bright against the steel. Your breath catches as you meet his gaze, a fleeting moment that seems to stretch into eternity. There is something in his eyes—an unspoken promise, a plea for understanding.

Viserys’ voice booms across the grounds, his words carrying the weight of royal decree. "Today, before the tilts commence, let it be known that my beloved niece, the daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen, shall be wed to Ser Gwayne Hightower. This union shall strengthen the bond between our noble houses, binding the blood of Old Valyria to the steadfast walls of Oldtown."

A murmur ripples through the crowd. Otto Hightower, standing beside the king, allows himself a thin, satisfied smile. The whisper of steel, the low hum of murmurs, and the occasional startled cry from the gathered lords and ladies mingle with the pounding in your ears. Beside you, Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent Hightower exchange a glance, though their expressions reveal little. You know Rhaenyra's thoughts well enough; her small hand squeezes yours briefly, a silent assurance.

Your eyes dart to the stands where your father, Prince Daemon, lounges. His posture is deceptively relaxed, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers drum against the arm of his seat. His eyes—those unmistakable violet eyes—burn with an intensity that sets your nerves on edge. When he rises from his seat, you feel a tremor of fear run through you, though you fight to keep your face composed.

Daemon’s voice, sharp and cutting, pierces the air. "I would face Ser Gwayne in the first tilt. Let us see if this union has the favor of the gods."

The crowd roars in approval, eager for the bloodshed and spectacle that is sure to follow. Gwayne’s gaze shifts, now locked onto Daemon’s. You see the flicker of concern in his eyes, quickly masked by the steel of resolve. He inclines his head, accepting the challenge with a courtly grace that belies the danger he now faces.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. The fear gnaws at you, a beast with claws that rake against your insides. You force yourself to remain still, even as every instinct screams at you to intervene, to do something—anything—to protect Gwayne from your father’s wrath.

Alicent notices your distress, her voice a gentle whisper in your ear. "Do not fear, my lady. Ser Gwayne is a skilled knight. He will honor you in this contest."

Her words are meant to comfort, but they do little to soothe the storm raging within you. Your eyes dart between the two men who now occupy your every thought—the father who has always shielded you with his fierce love, and the knight who has stolen your heart with his quiet strength. What would your father say if he knew how often Gwayne had filled your thoughts, how often you had dreamed of a future together, away from the politics and dangers of the court?

As the knights prepare for the tilt, you can barely breathe. The cheers of the crowd fade into a dull roar in your ears, and all you can focus on is the two figures facing each other across the field. Daemon’s black armor, dark as night and adorned with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, stands in stark contrast to Gwayne’s silvered plate. The dragon against the tower—a battle that feels all too symbolic.

Rhaenyra leans in close, her voice urgent and low. "You know your father, sister. He won’t hold back. You must steel yourself."

"I know," you whisper, though your voice trembles with the effort of holding back the fear that threatens to overwhelm you. You cannot let anyone see how deeply this affects you—not Rhaenyra, not Alicent, and certainly not your father.

The trumpets blare, signaling the beginning of the tilt. The horses rear, their hooves pounding the earth as Daemon and Gwayne charge at each other. Time slows to a crawl, and you can only watch, helpless, as the gap between them closes.

The impact is thunderous, the sound of steel against steel ringing out across the field. The force of the blow unseats Gwayne, and he crashes to the ground in a heap of armor and dust. Your heart lurches in your chest, and you rise to your feet, barely aware of the gasps and cries around you.

"Gwayne!" you hear yourself cry out, the name escaping your lips before you can stop it.

The crowd is on its feet, roaring with excitement, but all you can see is Gwayne, motionless on the ground. The world blurs as tears well in your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to show any weakness.

Daemon circles back, his expression inscrutable behind his helm, but you can feel his eyes on you. This was no accident; he wanted to make a point, to remind everyone that no one—Hightower or otherwise—would take what belonged to a dragon without consequence.

But then, Gwayne stirs. He rises slowly, his movements pained but determined. Relief floods through you, but it is quickly replaced by a renewed sense of dread. Daemon is not done—not yet.

Before you can react, Gwayne is back on his feet, his eyes locked onto Daemon's. The defiance in his stance is clear—he will not yield, not even to a prince of the blood. You feel a swell of pride for him, despite the fear gnawing at your insides.

Daemon, sensing the mood of the crowd shifting, raises his lance once more, ready for another pass. But this time, something in Gwayne’s demeanor gives you hope. His gaze flickers to you for the briefest of moments, and you see the silent vow in his eyes—a promise to fight for you, no matter the odds.

The horses charge again, and this time, Gwayne meets Daemon’s strike with a fierce determination. The impact is brutal, but Gwayne holds his ground, refusing to be unseated. The crowd roars its approval, the tension in the air is felt.

When the dust settles, both knights remain in their saddles, battered but unbroken. It is Daemon who finally raises his hand, signaling the end of the tilt. There is no victor, no vanquished—only two men who have tested each other’s mettle and found themselves equally matched.

The relief that washes over you is overwhelming, and you sink back into your seat, your hands trembling in your lap. You dare a glance at Gwayne, who inclines his head to you with a slight, weary smile. It is a small gesture, but it fills your heart with warmth.

As Daemon dismounts, he casts a long, lingering look in your direction. There is something unspoken in his gaze, a challenge, perhaps—or a warning. But for now, you do not care. You have seen Gwayne survive your father’s wrath, and that is enough for you.

For the first time since this day began, you allow yourself a small, secret smile. The road ahead may be fraught with danger and intrigue, but you will face it with the courage of a dragon—and with Gwayne by your side.

You stand at the window of the Hightower, looking out over the sprawling city of Oldtown, where the cobbled streets wind like serpents beneath the autumn sun. The air is cool, tinged with the salt of the Whispering Sound, carrying with it the scent of the sea that you’ve come to know so well. The bells from the Starry Sept toll the hour, their sound reverberating through the stone walls of your home.

Your home. It’s a thought that still brings a small smile to your lips, even after all these years. The Hightower is vast, imposing, and ancient, its walls steeped in the history of Oldtown and the Hightowers themselves. Yet within these walls, you have found something unexpected—peace, and more than that, love.

Gwayne is beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back, a comforting weight. His touch is gentle, yet there’s a strength in it that you’ve come to depend on. He’s watching you with that soft expression that always melts the last of your worries away, the lines of his face relaxed, his grey eyes bright with the warmth of the afternoon light.

“He’s arrived,” Gwayne says, his voice low and calm, a grounding presence. You turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, the unspoken question in your eyes.

“Prince Daeron,” he clarifies, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Alicent’s letter arrived this morning, and they’ll be here within the hour.”

You nod, the familiar flutter of anticipation and duty stirring in your chest. Prince Daeron, the youngest son of Queen Alicent, sent to Oldtown to be raised and educated under the care of your husband’s family. It’s a great honor, of course, but more than that, it feels like a trust, a bond that ties your houses closer together.

Gwayne’s hand moves from your back to your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. “He’s young, but from what we’ve heard, he’s bright and eager to learn. He’ll thrive here, I’m sure of it.”

You smile at his optimism, leaning into him slightly. “We’ll make sure of it,” you reply, your voice carrying the quiet determination that has grown within you over the years. Oldtown has become a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you and Gwayne have built a life together, despite the stormy beginnings of your union.

You can still remember the day of the tourney, the way your heart had pounded with fear as your father had chosen Gwayne as his opponent. The memory lingers like a shadow, but it’s one you’ve learned to live with, just as you’ve learned to live with the man who became your husband.

Gwayne, sensing the shift in your mood, squeezes your hand gently. “He’ll have the best tutors, the finest training. And he’ll have us.”

“Yes,” you agree, turning your gaze back to the city below. “He’ll have us.”

The grand hall of the Hightower is filled with the warmth of a roaring fire, the stone hearth dominating the room. The thick tapestries that line the walls soften the sound of footsteps on the stone floor, and the smell of spiced wine and roasted meat fills the air.

Daeron is smaller than you expected, a boy of perhaps seven years, with a mop of silver hair that falls into his eyes. Those eyes, so much like his mother’s, are wide with curiosity and just a hint of nervousness as he stands before you and Gwayne.

“Welcome to Oldtown, Prince Daeron,” Gwayne says, his voice kind but formal, as befits the occasion. He kneels slightly, bringing himself closer to the boy’s level, a gesture of respect and warmth that seems to put Daeron at ease.

The boy glances up at you, his lips parting in a small, shy smile. “Thank you, Ser Gwayne,” he replies, his voice small but clear. Then, turning to you, he adds, “My lady.”

You kneel beside Gwayne, reaching out to take Daeron’s hand in yours. His fingers are cold, and you can feel the slight tremor in them. “You’ll be safe here, Prince Daeron,” you assure him softly. “This is your home now.”

Daeron looks up at you, his young face a mix of emotions—fear, uncertainty, but also trust. It’s a look that tugs at your heart, and you find yourself wanting to protect this boy, to give him the guidance and care that only family can provide.

“We’ll take good care of you,” you promise, your voice gentle but firm. “Just as we would our own.”

The boy nods, and you can see the tension in his small shoulders begin to ease. He looks around the hall, taking in the grandeur of the Hightower, the vastness of the space that is now his home. There’s still fear in his eyes, but there’s also a glimmer of something else—hope.

Gwayne rises to his feet, offering his hand to you. “Come,” he says to Daeron, “let’s show you the rest of the Hightower. There’s much to see, and I believe the maester has prepared something special for your arrival.”

Daeron hesitates for just a moment before he takes Gwayne’s offered hand, his small fingers gripping tightly as though seeking reassurance. You stand beside them, a silent guardian of this new bond that is being forged.

As you walk through the halls, Gwayne points out various tapestries, statues, and paintings, telling stories of the history of the Hightowers and Oldtown. Daeron listens intently, his earlier nervousness slowly melting away under the gentle guidance of your husband.

When you reach the maester’s chambers, you’re greeted by the sight of a table laden with books, scrolls, and an array of strange instruments that immediately capture Daeron’s interest. The maester, a kindly old man with a beard as white as snow, greets Daeron with a deep bow.

“Prince Daeron,” the maester says warmly, “I’ve prepared a special lesson for you, one that I think you’ll find quite interesting.”

Daeron’s eyes light up with curiosity, and for the first time since his arrival, you see a genuine smile on his face. He looks up at you and Gwayne, his eyes shining with excitement. “Thank you,” he says, his voice more confident now.

Gwayne squeezes your hand, and you can’t help but return the smile. This, you realize, is what it means to be a family—not just by blood, but by the bonds you choose to create. In this moment, with the warmth of the fire and the promise of a new beginning, you feel something settle in your heart, a sense of fulfillment that you hadn’t known you were missing.

As Daeron sits down with the maester, already engrossed in the lesson that has been prepared for him, you and Gwayne share a look, a silent understanding passing between you.

And in this moment, as you both watch Daeron eagerly absorb the knowledge being offered to him, you know that you wouldn’t have your life being lived in any other way.

The halls of the Red Keep are as imposing as ever as you and Gwayne make your way through the corridors. It's been years since you last walked these halls, and yet they feel as familiar as ever—haunted by memories both bitter and sweet.

Gwayne’s hand rests on your elbow, guiding you through the maze of the castle with practiced ease. He’s dressed in the colors of his house, the green and silver of the Hightowers, his expression calm and composed as always. But you know him well enough to sense the tension beneath the surface, the way his gaze sharpens when he hears a distant sound, always vigilant, always protective.

You both turn a corner and nearly collide with a small entourage, led by none other than Rhaenyra herself. She’s flanked by her husband—your father, Daemon—and their children, their steps purposeful, their expressions tense. Rhaenyra’s silver hair gleams under the flickering torchlight, her violet eyes widening slightly in surprise as she sees you.

“Rhaenyra,” you greet her, your voice soft but steady, betraying none of the uncertainty you feel. So much has changed, yet seeing her here, a part of you yearns for the easy camaraderie you once shared as children. 

“Cousin,” Rhaenyra replies, her voice warm despite the strain visible on her face. She glances at Gwayne and then back at you, her gaze searching, perhaps for some sign of how the years have treated you. “It’s been too long.”

“Far too long,” you agree, your eyes flicking to Daemon, who stands slightly behind Rhaenyra, his gaze locked on Gwayne. There’s a tension in his stance, a stiffness that wasn’t there before, and you know immediately that your father is displeased.

Daemon’s eyes are dark, and though he remains silent, the disapproval is clear. His gaze travels from Gwayne to you, then back again, lingering on the clasped hands between you and your husband. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and for a moment, the air seems to thicken with unspoken words and unresolved history.

“You’re back in the capital for the petitions, I presume?” Rhaenyra asks, breaking the silence, her tone carefully neutral. The mention of the petitions brings you back to the grim reality of why you’re all here—the matter of Driftmark, and the question of succession that has thrown the court into turmoil.

“Yes,” Gwayne answers before you can, his voice firm. “We came as soon as we heard.” He glances at Daemon, his expression respectful but guarded. “It seems the crown’s decision is in favor of your son.”

Rhaenyra’s face softens at the mention of Lucerys, but before she can respond, a voice from behind her interrupts. It’s Jacaerys, his young face set in determination. “The matter should have never been in question. Luke is the rightful heir to Driftmark.”

You see the fire in his eyes, the same fire that once burned in Rhaenyra at that age. It’s both heartening and concerning, especially now, in these treacherous waters.

“That he is,” you say gently, offering a smile to Jacaerys. “And it’s clear to anyone with eyes that he’ll make a fine lord.”

Before Jacaerys can respond, Daemon steps forward, his presence commanding attention. His eyes are locked onto yours now, and there’s a storm brewing behind them, a mix of emotions you can’t fully decipher. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, carrying the weight of a warning.

“You’ve found happiness in Oldtown, I see.” The words are directed at you, but his gaze shifts to Gwayne as he says it, his tone laced with something darker. “Though I wonder if the cost was worth it.”

You feel Gwayne’s hand tighten around yours, a subtle gesture of support. “Happiness is not something to be questioned, Father,” you reply calmly, meeting Daemon’s gaze without flinching. “Nor is the loyalty I hold to both my families.”

Daemon’s lips twitch, almost as if he’s about to say something more, but Rhaenyra places a gentle hand on his arm, silently urging him to hold his tongue. There’s a brief moment where it seems he might ignore her, but then he lets out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“We’re here to support our family,” Gwayne adds, his voice measured, addressing Daemon directly now. “In whatever way is needed.”

Daemon studies Gwayne for a long moment, the silence between them stretching thin. Finally, he gives a curt nod, though the hardness in his gaze doesn’t entirely soften. “As you should,” he says, the words clipped, before turning back to Rhaenyra.

“Come, we have business with the king,” he says to her, his voice brooking no argument.

Rhaenyra hesitates, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. “We’ll speak later,” she promises, offering a small, genuine smile before following after Daemon, their children trailing behind her.

As they walk away, the tension slowly dissipates, leaving you standing beside Gwayne in the dimly lit corridor. You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, leaning slightly into your husband’s side. Gwayne wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, his warmth a comfort against the chill that lingers in the air.

“That went… better than I expected,” Gwayne murmurs, a touch of wry humor in his voice, though you can hear the relief beneath it.

“He’s never going to fully approve,” you say quietly, your eyes fixed on the spot where your father had stood. “But he’ll have to accept it.”

Gwayne turns to you, his expression softening as he looks down into your eyes. “I don’t need his approval,” he says, his voice firm. “I have you, and that’s all that matters.”

You smile at that, a genuine smile that reaches your eyes, banishing the last of the unease. “And I have you,” you reply, your voice filled with the love and certainty that have grown between you over the years.

The heavy oak door of your chambers shuts behind you, a soft thud echoing through the room. The warmth of the fire flickers across the stone walls that dance in tandem with your heightened pulse. Gwayne stands before you, his emerald eyes sharp and intense, still simmering with the tension of your earlier encounter in the halls. He says nothing as he approaches, but the way his hand reaches for your waist and pulls you flush against him speaks volumes.

You’ve grown accustomed to the feel of him—the strength in his embrace, the heat of his breath against your skin—but tonight there is something different, something more urgent. The lingering traces of your father’s displeasure hang between you, and you know, without words, that it fuels Gwayne’s every movement.

His lips descend upon yours, fierce and claiming, tasting of the wine shared at the evening’s feast. You respond in kind, your hands weaving through the thick strands of his hair, pulling him closer, as though you could erase the earlier tension through sheer proximity.

His hands roam across your body with practiced familiarity, fingers curling around the ties of your gown, loosening the laces with deliberate slowness. Gwayne leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice low and rough. “I will make you scream for me tonight,” he promises, and the unspoken words hang heavy in the air—Let him hear.

Your heart flutters in response, not with fear, but with anticipation. The thought of your father just beyond the walls, likely brooding over his anger, stirs something within you. How often had Daemon whispered venom into your ear about the Hightowers, about how they were a poison slowly strangling your family? And yet here you are, wrapped in the arms of one who bears that very name, bound to him not only by vows but by something far deeper, something that even your father’s fury cannot tarnish.

Gwayne’s touch turns rougher, more insistent, and your breath catches in your throat as he lifts you with ease, laying you down onto the bed. The covers crumple beneath your weight, the mattress giving way as he settles over you, his eyes burning with a hunger that matches your own. “I want him to know,” he murmurs against your neck, his lips trailing fire down your throat, “that you belong to me.”

Your back arches involuntarily, and you bite down on your lip, the need to hold back your cries warring with the knowledge of who might hear. Gwayne’s hands grasp your hips, his grip possessive as he moves against you with a rhythm that leaves you breathless. Each movement, each deliberate thrust, is a challenge—a challenge to the walls that separate your chambers from those of your father and his wife.

The pressure builds inside you, the familiar heat coiling in your belly, and you grasp at Gwayne’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you fight against the wave of pleasure threatening to drown you. His mouth hovers over yours, demanding, coaxing you to give in, to let go.

And then you remember—Daemon’s chambers are just beyond. The thought of his reaction, of his barely concealed rage at the idea of you finding joy with a Hightower, sends a thrill through you. You gasp aloud as Gwayne drives into you harder, his breath ragged in your ear, “Louder,” he commands, his voice a mix of authority and need.

You close your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, letting the sound of his name tear from your lips, louder than before, louder than you ever have. You imagine the look on your father’s face, his fists clenched in helpless fury, and the thought sends you spiraling into a pleasure so intense it nearly blinds you.

Gwayne’s name tumbles from your lips again and again, each cry more fervent than the last, as he brings you to the edge and beyond. You feel his satisfaction in the way he groans your name in return, his hold on you unyielding, as though he could anchor himself to you through sheer force of will.

When it’s over, when the last echoes of your cries have faded into the night, you lay beside him, your body spent and trembling, but your mind still racing. Gwayne’s hand rests possessively on your hip, his chest rising and falling with the remnants of exertion. “He heard you,” he says, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

You can only nod, the thought of what tomorrow might bring swirling in your mind. But for now, there is only this—only you and Gwayne, and the knowledge that whatever storm your father’s ire might bring, you would weather it together.

In the silence that follows, you curl closer to Gwayne, your fingers tracing idle patterns across his chest. “Tomorrow…” you begin, but your voice trails off.

“Tomorrow,” Gwayne echoes, his tone firm, reassuring, “we will face whatever comes. But tonight, you are mine, and that is all that matters.”

You smile softly at his words, closing your eyes as sleep finally begins to claim you.

[hederasgarden]

Sins of the Father - Part 2

Summary: When the Greens win the Dance of the Dragons, your father must answer for his support of Rhaenyra. (AU) Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lady!Reader (house unspecified) W/C: 1.3K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. AU, forced/arranged marriage and reference to canon level violence. Future chapters will be explicit.  A/N: Thank you to @mythic-rose for beta’ing! The fantastically talented @writercole created the beautiful graphic! 

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day. 

Part 1 | House of the Dragon Masterlist

After your audience with the Alicent, you and your father are escorted to accommodations in Maegor's holdfast. Both rooms are opulent and luxurious, befitting of your station but you see them for what they truly are. A gilded cage that will be your home for the next two months until you’re wed to Prince Aemond. 

Once the guards leave, your father speaks, his hushed voice vibrating with anger. “I never should have brought you here. When they asked for me to bring my heir I did not ever consider…”

“You could not have known they wanted more than your coin,” you assure, reaching for him. “We knew there would be a cost to pay for supporting Rhaenyra. My brother paid with his life. Marriage pales in comparison. The rest of the family will be safe.”

“Aemond is a monster. At best a Kinslayer,” he hisses. You raise your hands to quiet him, aware of the two guards outside the door. 

“Father, please….”

He deflates at your words. “I wanted better for you. A gentle, honorable husband to protect and care for you as you deserve.”

He pulls you into his chest to press a kiss to your brow. A strong wave of emotion climbs up your throat  Even as your eyes sting, you force your tears not to fall. Grief has made your father wild and you worry what he might do if you showed him the depths of your fear.  All you can do is wrap your arms around his middle, taking comfort in his familiarity. Soon he will be gone and you will be alone in a den of dragons. 

“It is done,” you say finally, covertly swiping at the dampness on your lashes when you pull away. You clear your throat and steady your voice. “I will write a letter to mother and my sisters for you to bring home. Yo wi’ll need a list of my personal effects to bring back too.”

“Even now, you are thinking ahead,” he says, cupping your face. He carries so much love in his expression it hurts. “Any future correspondence will be monitored.” 

“It will. I think we should prepare for the chance…” you begin, only to trail off when you hear the doors open.

Otto Hightower sweeps, the golden highlights woven into his green robes catching in the candlelight. Behind him trails Prince Aemond like a dark shadow. He stops at the threshold of your room, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Pardon our interruption,” the Hand begins with that same false smile Alicent wore earlier. “Prince Aemond has kindly offered to show you the Red Keep while I speak with your father.“

“That is kind of him,” you acknowledge. 

“If there are important matters to discuss, my daughter should be present,” your father says.

“Oh, it is only the matter of the dowry and a few other issues she need not concern herself with,” he tells your father with a dismissive wave.

“I am my father’s heir.” Otto shifts his attention to you with a raised brow and you know then that you’ve spoken too harshly. “It is only that I wish to ensure everything with the betrothal goes smoothly,” you add hurriedly with a demure smile. 

“Such dedication,” the Hand praises. “Dutiful daughters make for obedient wives,” he notes, looking meaningfully at you.  

There is no mistaking the subtle message underneath the compliment he gives you. A reminder of your place.

“You are kind to say, Lord Hand.” 

You drop your gaze and wait until your father touches your shoulder. When you look up through your lashes, you’re surprised to see Aemond mere inches from you. 

He offers you his hand, palm rough against your soft skin. As you walk, Aemond guides your hand to rest on his bicep and pulls you closer to his body. You glance back behind, relieved to see an older Septa fall in step behind you at a respectable distance. Aemond follows your gaze with a smirk that you suspect might be part of his natural expression. 

"Tell me," he begins as you walk together, "do you agree with my grandsire's assessment that a wife should be dutiful and obedient?" 

The directness of his question surprises you. 

“The seven teach us there are many virtues a good wife should possess,” you respond carefully, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction to your words. You’re unsurprised to find him watching you closely. It’s unnerving to be the sole focus of his sharp attention. “I think the more important question is what virtues do you desire in a wife, Prince Aemond?”

“Obedience is a desired attribute in hounds, not a wife," he reveals. "I am more interested in loyalty.”

Fear coils in your belly in response to his words, a cold knot that tightens with every step you take beside him. Loyalty was a demand that cut deeper than obedience, especially with your own family’s fidelity in question. 

“It is an admirable trait,” you agree, choosing your words with care. Your father’s gold could only ease so much doubt. They would always remember that your family chose Rhaenyra over them. No pretty words you might spin for Aemond would change that. 

“I have heard dragons are loyal creatures,” you add, hoping to direct his attention to a less volatile topic. “They say you ride the largest one that ever lived.”

“Her name is Vhagar.” 

“A dragon worthy of a prince,” you reply. That comment earns you a quick look you can’t quite decipher. Then Aemond hmms, returning his attention ahead. “Where are we headed?”

“The gardens. My sister is fond of them. Or perhaps we can see the new tapestries my mother had made in Essos.”

“Oh,” you reply, quick to hide your disappointment. You suspected most women would have found a stroll through the beautiful flowers with a Prince romantic, but there were other parts of the keep you were keen to explore.“I have heard the gardens of the keep are unmatched, even compared to the Reach.”

A hint of your true feeling must show because Aemond looks curiously at you. “You wish to see something else?"

“No, my prince,” you murmur, gaze downcast. “The gardens sound lovely.” 

Aemond stops abruptly, stepping in front of you.

“Do not lie,” he hisses, grasping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. His long fingers span the length of your jaw and an anxious sort of energy skitters down your spine at the look on his face. “You may spin pretty words to tell others what they want to hear, but never me.” 

You search frantically for the right words to appease him or redirect his attention. In your experience, men wanted you to be agreeable, deferring to their desires and whims. “Forgive me your grace,” you stutter. “I promise to be forthright in the future when asked for my opinion.”

He watches for one long, agonizing moment, his one-eyed gaze searching for something beneath the surface. It isn’t until the Septa behind you coughs politely that Aemond’s attention leaves you. The look he offers her is less-than-kind.

“Now,” he says softly, his focus once more on you, “what do you wish to see?”

There is nothing to give him but the truth. “The library.”

If Aemond is curious about your choice he does not show it. He offers you a curt, “very well,” and guides you back to his side with a hand on your wrist.

You continue on in silence as the stone walls adorned with tapestries and flickering torchlight give way to a large, open courtyard. It’s busier in this part of the keep, servants and nobles alike stopping as you pass to bow or curtsy. Aemond pays them little mind, but you can’t look away, all too aware that they will bow to you as well once you become a princess of the realm. 

The weight of that expectation settles on your shoulders like a heavy yoke and with each step forward you find yourself more and more uncertain of how the future will look beside Aemond. 

♡

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[biwitchenergyz]

A House of Blood and Fire

Chapter One: The Heirs of the Dragon

<-Teaser Next Chapter->

In the future, many years from now, when you await the gods of old Valyria or even the Stranger (hopefully on your deathbed), you may look back on the choices you have made and wonder where you went wrong. Perhaps your death will be less peaceful, perhaps it will be bloody, but you hope that whatever gods watched over you were not the merciless ones Queen Alicent Hightower often wept too.

The world is silent, your room is quiet, and you know the sun will shine soon. Not that the sun has ever done anything good for you. Most people fear the dark but forget all the snakes who love to bask in the sun's light. You often find yourself surrounded by those very snakes, but now, sitting alone in your chambers on Dragonstone, you wonder if the sun purposefully evades the gloomy island. Your lady's smooth voice accompanies the squeak of your door opening.

"Darling girl, I hoped we could talk before our departure." Princess Rhaenyra hardly asked for company; she was surrounded by people at all times, whether that be her children, her lovers, or her court. When she wanted to speak with someone, it was an honor that few could refuse. She moves to sit beside you. Her nightgown is sheer and delicate, with its lacey decorations pooling at her feet as she lifts them onto your bed.

"I was worried that this trip may take a toll on you," Rhaenyra whispers when she is finally sitting at your side, "If you want to stay back, I am sure my father would understand." The silence speaks for itself when Rhaenyra finally hears the irony of her words.

When has Viserys ever been understanding of you? Though the two of you were cousins, his age made him dismissive and ignorant of your plight as a young woman, while his gender gave him a sense of superiority that oozed from his every word. Rhaenyra was lucky to be his eldest daughter because she alone was immune to his cruelty.

"Viserys has been asking me to return, and now he demands it. Even you cannot protect me from that." The older woman's eyes soften at your cynical words. Your arrival at court was, unfortunately, amidst a troubling time for House Targaryen. The Princess and the Queen were constantly at odds, and it seemed that their children were following in their footsteps. With the court jester banished and the king's mood souring, you made for a perfect scapegoat. Had your mother, Saera, been living, she would never have allowed your humiliation. But she was gone, and her reputation fell like an anchor on your head.

"For the past four years, I have found any excuse to keep us on Dragonstone. First, it was my pregnancies, then Daemon’s injury, and Luke’s sickness. I am sorry that my father was not kind to you. However, he has grown ill, and his mind has been sullied with milk of the poppy. All my father wants is to see his family again. We have missed four of his birthdays, and I fear there may not be another. We will leave at dawn." Rhaenyra left no room for argument, so you let the discussion drop. Your mind returns to the reason you must sail for the Red Keep.

"The boat ride will take longer than Dragonback. I may miss dinner entirely." You warn Rhaenyra as she prepares to leave your bed chamber. She turns then, the realms delight, with the brightest smile you had ever seen as she laughed, "There is more than enough room for you on Syrax." Then she left as the sun seeped in through your windows.

• • • • • • •

In the end, you refuse to ride on Dragonback. You have declined it during all the years you have lived in Westeros. The boat ride is hardly uncomfortable, but as you watch Syrax's daisy-colored form fly over you, you wonder about the freedom you miss. Occasionally, the Velaryon boys will fly their dragons down closer toward the water, and your boat shakes at the power of their dragons' flapping wings. Even young dragons have that power. During the journey, Rhaenyra and her family split from you as they head towards King's Landing, and for a while, you are left with only yourself and the Princesses' other ladies as company. "Sit down, Princess. Join us in crafting our favors. You will become seasick if you stand so much." Elinda Massey lectures as you stand staring out the window of the old ship.

Elinda, with her dark hair and darker eyes, never fails to worry. She awoke in the morning with worries, and every night; she went to sleep worrying about how much Rhaenyra and her children ate at dinner and whether or not they would be starving. Her worries for the royal family also extend to you; even the old king's exiled granddaughter was worth her many troubles. Despite being your age and both of you being the youngest of Rhaenyra’s ladies, Elinda had a pious nature that led to her acting as a mother for the other girls, yourself included.

"Lady Massey, I can assure you I will be fine standing. The ship should dock soon anyway." Elinda frowned at your response, but she knew better than to argue with you when your mind was made.

You hurry to the deck of the ship, hoping to see King's Landing in all its glory, when your eye is caught by the enormous shadow that hovers above your boat. A dragon, as dark as an emerald and as giant as the Dragonpit, flies above you with a slow flap of its wings. Vhagar, you think you knew that dragon by heart and the old beast had not changed in the years since you left. Her rider may not be on her back, but you feel like he is for a second, his eyes piercing you from a place hidden from your view. Myranda Strong, with her twin Alyssa, approaches you from behind.

"Lady Massey is talking to the captain. The princess will send us a carriage, but we will still need someone to bring our luggage." Myranda tells you as her eyes also lift to watch Vhagar. Alyssa ignores the dragon, focused on the men preparing to moor the ship.

True to her word, Rhaenyra has sent a carriage for the four of you. It is grander than most carriages but still simple enough in its design to reflect your status as ladies-in-waiting. Inside the carriage, you bump into Alyssa at every dip in the road, but she merely smiles. "The men of the Red Keep will be a great exchange for those in DragonStone. New faces are just the change I need." She laughs with you as you agree to her lust-filled words. "It is the eldest prince that I am most excited to see. The rumors say that were he not a prince; he would certainly be the lover of a Lysinian mistress, or worse, a madame." You go silent at her words, but Elinda quiets the other girl.

"I can assure you we will not be anywhere near the drunkard prince." Her words are brusque, and they silence Alyssa for the rest of the ride. The silence is deafening until the other strong girl finds her voice. "Where is Saagael, my princess?" Myranda asks you even though her dark eyes are locked on her sister. You cannot stop your smile at the mention of your beloved pet. "He will be brought with our luggage. I had to cage him for the journey so the Hand would not know his presence. Saagael is not supposed to be here." You whisper the words with delight as you discuss how you have snuck your cat into King's Landing. Your company finds humor in this, but the rest of the ride is silent until the carriage doors open, and Rhaenyra takes your hand to help you step safely onto the dirt.

"My Princess! You did not need to come get us." Lady Massey exclaims in delight as Rhaenyra helps her down as well. "I thought that at least the four of you should receive a warm welcome. It seems that courtesy is not felt amongst the court." Rhaenyra sneers before she links your arms and leads you through the halls of the red keep. In the light of the setting sun, the halls look more burgundy than the bright red they are known for. Rhaenyra is silent as you both walk arm-in-arm through the bustling castle.

Servants, nobles, and knights alike stop to stare at the Heir and the formerly exiled princess. It has been many years since the Realm's Delight has been home. They watch her with curious glances, trying to dissect this new woman who walks amongst them. Has the Realm's delight turned cruel, or does she remain the sweet girl beloved by all? You can see the hesitance in their eyes as they bow to her passing figure. Rhaenyra, for the most part, ignores all the attention as she begins to tell you what has transpired today.

"A meager servant was sent to greet us. Our first homecoming in five years and we are treated like mere ambassadors. However, I believe that even ambassadors are treated better. I expected to see my father upon my return, but the king is not currently receiving company. Otto Hightower has practically barred the doors to my father's chambers. " The princess can't help but ramble. It is something she often does in your company for whatever reason. You think it is because, despite her estrangement from her siblings, she craves a relationship of equals rather than one of husband and wife or mother and child. She has always been alone in ways her sons and husband never have. The thought tugs at your heartstrings, and your grip on her arm tightens. "I am sure he will be at the tourney. It is in his name, is it not?" You try to ease her stress, but when it is time for you to go to your chambers, Rhaenyra keeps her hold on you.

"Will you stay with me? Your support would make this whole thing feel easier." Silence fills the halls outside of your chamber. Her Majesty, Queen Alicent, chose the room assigned to you. It is within a forgotten tower just behind the Royal sept, the only chamber completely secluded. Unlike the towers that occupy the hand and the royal guard, which all contain more than one room, your tower has only one other room relatively distant from your chambers. The royal library is at the end of the hall and one must pass your rooms to get there. Thus, for the most part, your halls are silent. Rhaenyra uses this silence to talk freely, so you do the same.

"My Princess, the children of Her Majesty will also be in attendance. I hardly think I will be any help when I am already so anxious to see them. I haven't been here since Helaena disappeared." You pick at the skin around your nails, a habit inherited from your mother, Saera. Rhaenyra watches you look away from her gaze while shuffling uncomfortably back and forth. Aegon and Aemond Targaryen were your friends once, more Aegon than Aemond. But the night Helaena vanished, many incidents occurred that forced you to flee for DragonStone. Not only had Alicent suspected you of helping Helaena escape, but so did her two oldest sons, and when you left, never to return until now, they grew to resent you. That's what you thought, although you never had any clear evidence besides the heated conversation that night four years ago.

"Darling, I want you there, but I will not beg," Rhaenyra stated plainly. Her royal demeanor inspired you to lift your eyes. Her violet eyes gleamed with a reserved strength that she took no measures to conceal. "I will go." You decided.

• • • • • • •

The tourney was to begin in less than an hour, but first, you wanted to make sure your pet was settling into your chambers. Saagael paced back and forth, his body more extensive than a house cat, as dark as a moonless night sky, and his paws hit the floor like an elephant on the march. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.” You try to reason with the cat, but he will hear nothing of it. He turns to leap onto your chair, making it seem like a doll’s chair with his big body taking over the furniture. His paws knead into the soft fabric, but he does not rip it. You knew the risk of returning him to the red keep would be significant, but you reasoned that he would be safer with you than left alone on Dragonstone. At least here, you could watch him and protect him. The thought of losing your beloved companion was one of the many fears that kept you up at night. Saagael was all you had left of home and your parents; without him, you would be truly lost. Even in moments like this, when his attitude was at its height, you took comfort in his presence.

“Fine. I will bring you a whole salmon from the kitchen! All you have to do is stay here and be good.” You pleaded with the grumpy cat. Saagael’s ears perked up at the mention of his favorite treat. Finally, he left his chair to curl up at your feet. You scratched his neck, making him purr contentedly. With a few more pets, you got up to leave him. As you opened your door, you jumped back in shock at the sight of Alicent Hightower standing outside. Her delicate hand was raised as if she was going to knock upon your door. The both of you seemed startled by the presence of the other, but neither of you spoke for a moment.

Alicent breaks the silence, “You have grown quite a lot in these years.” Her voice is gentle but still royal, showing her hesitance to appear as anything but regal in front of you. “Please do come in, your majesty!” You stumble over yourself to bow appropriately in the older woman's presence. Alicent walks in, taking in the room to find it, the same as when she first had it decorated for you.

Saagael is perched on the bed with no interest in moving, but Alicent strokes his fur, and he suddenly sits up and is very interested in the queen. “Is there a purpose to your visit, my queen?” Slowly, your feet move to the Queen's side while watching her admire your beloved Saagael. “My father hates this cat.” The queen muses instead of answering your question. The room falls to silence again until Alicent finally speaks. “I have been begging Viserys to bring you back home, and finally, you are here. I came to apologize to you, dear girl. When my daughter…left…I placed my blame onto you when you have been nothing but loyal to me and my children since you arrived at the Red Keep. I hope you can forgive me.” She turns to you, and you see the young woman you grew up with, who took you in along with Rhaenyra when you needed guidance.

Her big brown eyes glisten with unshed tears, but over time, you realize that Alicent's eyes are always sad. With a boldness you didn't realize you had, you step forward to grasp the Queen’s hands. “All is forgiven, Your Majesty.” Alicent smiles as she rubs her hand over your own, pausing at the rough skin around your fingernails. It is inflamed from being picked at, and Alicent notices it instantly. Gently, she touches your skin before looking back into your eyes.

“My sons, they have missed you greatly. I know they will be glad to see you. Please forgive them of their standoffish nature.” You nod at her words, knowing you have missed her sons just as much as Helaena. A bell chimes from the royal sept, and its echo fills your quiet room. Alicent responds instantly, dropping your hands and heading to the door before turning and saying, “The king wants his entire family at dinner after the tourney. I hope that you come.” She leaves the room with urgency, and for a fleeting moment, you feel like a twelve-year-old again, spending the winter in the Red Keep playing with Helaena and Aegon while a silent Aemond watches on in Amusement as Alicent gently scolds you and Aegon for roughhousing.

Jace and Luke are the ones who come to escort you to the King’s birthday tourney. You link arms with Jacaerys while Luke fiddles with the ring on his finger. It is a matching one Rhaenyra gave him for his tenth name day, valyrian steel with a single onyx crystal in the middle of the circlet. You all walk in silence, having nothing to say to each other. When you reach the doors that lead into the courtyard, you stop to turn to Luke, who is beginning to look faint. “Luke, you look as though you have seen a ghost. What troubles you?” You rest your hand over his own to stop his fidgeting. Luke smiles at you even though his eyebrows furrow in thought. Jace keeps his hand on your arm but uses his other hand to pat Luke’s back. Then Luke looks up at you with a strange determination on his face. “Are you on our side?” You drop his hands in shock. With a quick glance around, you see that nobody is in the halls besides two guards who stand watch at the doors to the courtyard. You gather the skirts of your dress and bend slightly to come face to face with Luke.

“Little Luke Velaryon, what are you talking about?” The words come out as a whisper, unnoticed by the guards, but Jace and Luke hear them loud and clear, and they do not back down. “Our uncles call us bastards. The whispers of the court say that it is Aegon who should be our grandsire’s heir. Do you stand with us or with them?”

Luke is bolder than Jace. He always has been. Unlike Jacaerys, who strives to be the perfect dignified gentle-lord, Luke is proud like the Velaryons and does not hold his tongue.

“I am my mother's daughter; Saera Targaryen would see no value in such disagreements. I do not wish to fuel a fire that is already roaring. The politics of Westeros are still strange to me, but my position here is not. I have no right to say what should happen to the iron throne, but I assure you that I love you and your mother very much. That is all I can say.” Luke nods, his youthful face looking mature for the first time. He seems as if he will argue, but he holds his tongue because of a lack of response. Jace takes your arm in his again, and as you wait for Rhaenyra and Daemon to join the three of you, Jace talks to you in whispers.

“Even you must feel the division of the court.” He shows no signs of discontent, but Lucereys is still mulling over your response. “Trust that I feel the division like a knife in my back.” Your stare rises to meet his eyes. For a moment, he is silent, but his eyes are loud enough. The conversation ends there as Rhaenyra and Daemon approach to lead the family to their carriages. You watch the doors open but stop before crossing them; Jace pulls you through.

• • • • • • •

[averagewriter-inthedark]

A Golden Rose 🌼 | Alicent Hightower Headcanon

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

Alicent Hightower having a secret relationship with the daughter of Lord Tyrell would involve:

Becoming a lady-in-waiting to the young queen early on in her marriage to King Viserys after you were sent to King's Landing upon the request of his Grace. Leaving the Reach and your family for the capitol, where you would remain indefinity. You'd only been in the proximity to the royal couple once on the day of their wedding, though you never exchanged words. It came as a surprise when two years later at ten and seven the raven arrived to accompany the Queen as she nears the end of her term. Pending the birth of her second child.  

It was pretty much love at first sight for Alicent, who was drawn to your beauty and personality. The sharp wit and charm of a Tyrell, you had her a blushing mess nearly every day. Alicent requesting your company more often rather than all her ladies. Pretty much leaving them to the winds. You didn't mind. In fact, you relished in the attention. 

You clocked onto her affections early on, not blind to her lingering gazes, soft smiles, and how her eyes drew to you each time she entered a room. Walking closely beside you, while the other ladies trailed behind. It only took four months for you to confront her, as you developed strong feelings for the Queen and no longer had the strength to keep them hidden. "My Queen, forgive me for speaking freely, but I cannot go another day with us not saying what we so desperately want. I know what you feel for me, and I want you to know I feel the same." 

Yeah, she was a goner. Her heart soaring with happiness...and fear. Of course you two could not explore a relationship openly. She was married--to the damn King! And you were a lady-in-waiting expected to marry a nobleman or knight. If anyone found out about your relations, you'd be exiled or facing the sword. Alicent surely would face the King's wrath, and neither of you wanted to picture that. 

So, you both did what you had to do: you loved in secret. Behind closed doors and wondering eyes. Gifts of sentiments on namedays, brushing hands when passing teacups, seeking one out in a crowded room, walks in the garden. Anonymous notes of admiration, kisses at night when the Keep was asleep. Reading to each other in the library, picking flowers to put in the other's hair. Saving sweets from lunch and supper to share later on in your chambers. And on most nights, you'd run your fingers through Alicent's soft hair to lull her to sleep.

The love you shared blossomed like the golden rose that represented your house. Growing stronger by the years. You and Alicent had the biggest secret in all of Westeros. One you would go to war to protect. 

Viserys was always occupied with King duties and entertaining his council to see what his wife was up to. Otto kept a close eye, and you often felt his suspicious gaze on you at events, but never once did he comment. Though you'd never admit it to Alicent, you were grateful when he was dismissed as Hand. It was one less person you had to worry about. The maids and guards turned a blind eye, all except Criston Cole. Once he became Alicent's sworn protector, he followed you two like a dog on a leash. And when he did catch you two in a compromising position roughly a year after she had Aemond, Alicent made him swear on his life to be silent. 

Rhaenyra was....complicated. For one you knew of her friendship with Alicent prior to her marriage to the King, and the love they shared for each other. Admittedly, you were slightly jealous, but got over it once Alicent assured you she no longer harbored those affections for the Princess. Still, you were not Rhaenyra's biggest fan. Her behavior and comments toward Alicent had you fuming, but you remained calm in the presence of others. Once she finally married and had children you were pleased.

Speaking of children, you were close to Alicent's sons and daughter, despite hating Viserys for putting her through four pregnancies and treating her like a broodmare after what he did to Queen Aemma. The resentment towards the King only heightened when he seemed to forget about the children he sired, preferring Rhaenyra and her sons. Daeron was sent to Oldtown young, leaving the older three, who you helped Alicent raise.

As the children grew up, they were not blind to your relationship. Why their mother always broke fast with you and invited you to the table at supper. Why she asked for your opinion on certain things. How she ordered golden roses to be planted in the gardens of the Keep on your 19th nameday when you mentioned feeling homesick. The fact there was always your favorite pastries at banquets. And when she went to light a candle in the sept, you were right there with her. You were dressed in the finest silks compared to the other ladies-in-waiting. 

Where they confused in the beginning? of course they were. They didn't understand why their mother was more devoted to you than their father. Why Alicent's eyes sparked when looking at you, much like when she looked at them, instead of the King. But they never once spoke of it. Understanding there was a deep affection between the two of you that the realm would never accept. 

Yet when the dragons danced years later as the kingdom split between Greens and Blacks, the history books would write about the Hightower that bloomed with golden roses. Why Highgarden did not hesitate to raise their banners in support of King Aegon II Targaryen. Covering the southern lands that would further weaken Rhaenyra's defense. Making the Princess and her council realize their mistake of undermining the influence you had on the Alicent.

For a rose is so beautiful to the eye, one forgets about its thorns.

[chloe-skywalker]

What Does She Know? - Aegon II Targaryen

Aegon II x Fem!Reader

Warnings: G.O.T

Word count: 943

Summary: Alicent may love to put her children down, but Y/n won’t stand for it to affect her betrothed anymore.

Authors Note: I really do think if he had someone who really loved and cared about him he’d be SO different! Same for Aemond.

Masterlist

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Why do you behave like this?” Alicent scoffed in disgust at her son. She was angered and annoyed at Aegon’s behaviors, no matter what it may be.

“Behave like what?” Aegon questioned with squinted eyes. He had completely closed in on himself, expecting the usual if not new degrading comments she always told him. Sure he was use to it, it's been happening all his life but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“A monster. A little boy desperate for attention that believes since he’s a prince he can do whatever he wants without any consequences.” Alicent sneered at her son. She despised her and Viserys' children. They all seemed to have the confidence and arrogance of the Targaryens. Nothing in them reminded her of the Hightowers.

Aegon did not answer her after that. He just looked down trying not to let his emotions show in her presence. Aegon was done with showing weakness in front of her.

“Pathetic.” She spat before turning around and leaving Aegon’s chambers she had practically barged into.

A few moments later, after hearing the door slam Y/n peeked her head out of the hidden passageway she had rushed to when they heard Alicent outside his door. “Aegon?”

When she didn’t get a reply Y/n came out and walked towards where Aegon was seated on the end of his bed. She had heard everything the so called Queen had said to Aegon and Y/n was fuming on the inside. How dare she treat and say things like that to him. Her own son and a prince.

“She’s right, you know. I’m a monster.” Aegon mumbled looking down to his lap feeling immensely insecure since his mothers rant.

Y/n immediately shook her head, not agreeing with his statement at all. “No you are not. You are not a monster.”

“That's not what my mother says.” He spoke in a whisper.

“And what does she know? Rhaenyra was her best friend and look how she treats her? Look how she treats you and your siblings? She doesn’t know anything. Definitely nothing good or correct.” Y/n exclaimed lifting his chin to look at her as she talked, but Y/n knew it was because he was listening but the negative thoughts were still in his mind.

“I don’t understand why she take it out on us? On me?” He questioned out loud not to anyone in particular.

Since their betrothal Y/n had seen the toxic environment in King's Landing, in the castle. Between the Hightowers and the Targaryens. Including between Alicent and her own children.

“Because she’s upset that she had to marry your father. But you know what, she should grow up and act like a lady. Like a queen. That’s the way life is for a woman. Especially a woman born with any type of title. We don’t get to choose who we marry, or how many kids we have. Nothing. You just are forced to grin and bare it but the least she could do is protect and care for her children. Be supportive to her so-called friend that she had to marry the father of.” Y/n ranted but she had a point. To everything she said, it was all very true. Aegon listened intently to what Y/n had said and it pained him. In the short time they had known each other Aegon had really grown to love the woman in front of him. And to hear how she as a woman had no say in anything, that really hurt him to think that might be how she thinks their relationship is going to be once they marry. Aegon reached out to hold her hands.

“Is that how you feel with me? With our arranged marriage? That you have no choice and that all you’ll be good for is having my children?” Aegon asked question after question. He truly hoped he could make her feel like his equal. “Cause that's not how I want our relationship to be. I want to be good enough for you. That you want me even if we are already arranged and have no real say. I want us to fall in love with one another and not spite each other. I don’t want to force you to have a ton of heirs just so we can please the court and the people. I don’t want to please anyone other than you.”

Y/n was stunned by his words, not having thought he was worrying about such things.

Y/n squeezed his hands and then let one go and reached up to cup the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. Looking into his eyes when she spoke. “Aegon. You have been an exception to what I said. You have treated me very kindly since we’ve gotten to know one another and I greatly appreciate that you seek out my advice. That you care about my opinion on things, that you don’t want to force me into anything or let anyone hurt me. That you actually care about me and I’m not just some slave your meant to fake love and breed with. I want to please you as well Aegon. But the difference is for us it’s because we love each other, truly love each other. That we want to please each other. Not out of duty.”

Aegon shook his head, feeling a weight lifted off his chest. “It will never be out of duty.”

Aegon pulled Y/n onto his lap into a kiss he hoped betrayed the love he felt for her and appreciation for her believing in him.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Could you write about Harwin strong being married to Rhaenyra's sister and they are in Drifmark and is their son who attacked Aemond to protect his little brother so when they are asking about what happens they stand up for him and at the end is the reader who stops Alicent from attacking her son?

(Gif not mine but oh, be still my beating heart)

Title: Strong Bonds

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Female!Targaryen Reader

Word Count: 7,610

Warnings: Grief, incest, blood, violence, childbirth, etc.

A/N: FINALLY A HARWIN STRONG REQUEST! For context, Y/n will be a year younger than Rhaenyra, and speaking of which, Rhaenyra will still be married to Laenor and their sons are all legitimate with mixed skin, silver hair, and purple eyes.

(I do not consent to my works being reposted/copied)

"Are you sure it's safe for you to be traveling at this extent?"

Y/n peered up from absentmindedly playing with her sleeping son's dark hair, her own silver locks falling over her eyes as she does so. The carriage rocks as it slowly made its way down a dirt road outside, swaying the Targaryen princess and her family in a calming moment of their chaotic lives. The son whose head rested in her lap, Osmund, stirred when the carriage hit a bump in the road but otherwise kept on dreaming. Y/n returned to petting his hair to keep him that way.

Her husband, Harwin Strong, closely watches her from across the carriage, their youngest son, Baelor, also slept but preferred his father's strong arms over his mother's small lap. No one could blame the five-year-old child since Princess Y/n's lap had shrunk over the months due to her ever-growing stomach, now barely giving ten-year-old Osmund room to sleep in peace.

She raises a sharp eyebrow at her husband, "Would you rather have me fly Qyraxes to Driftmark?"

"Gods, woman, no of course not," Harwin shakes his head, but couldn't help the small grin he bore, "You act like I want to be a widower. What I meant to say was that we didn't have to leave if it would be safer for you."

"This is my cousin's funeral, my love," Y/n spoke sadly, staring out the window while thinking of Laena, "Everyone is going to be there and we, alongside the rest of my father's family, are expected to be there. Besides... I have not seen or heard from Rhaenyra since she left for Dragonstone. I need to see her again."

"Your sister could easily fly back to King's Landing to see you."

A scowl forms on the princess' beautiful face, "Not when there are leeches always lurking about in the Red Keep."

She doesn't speak plainly, but the message was clear. Y/n always prided herself in acting similar to her uncle, Daemon, over her father, Viserys. Much like Daemon, Y/n always saw Otto Hightower as a leech, sucking the blood from the King's back. His daughter is no different. Queen Alicent is a thorn in Y/n's side. Like repeating history, the two women exchange poisoned words with each other, much like how Otto and Daemon once did. It brought Y/n comfort to learn that Lord Otto was dismissed and sent back to Oldtown, with her good father, Lord Lyonel, taking his place as the new Hand of the King, but the Queen still remained. Y/n may not have been friends with Alicent like Rhaenyra once was, but their personalities clashed and therefore formed a rivalry that matched the feud between Alicent and Rhaenyra.

Alicent's most recent jab was one spoken under her breath, but for the entire Small Council to hear. She had made a comment that only true Targaryens have silver hair, and although she never spoke plainly, everyone knew she was singling out Y/n and Harwin's black-haired children. Lord Lyonel Strong looked appalled and disgusted in defense of his son, and Viserys wanted to come to his youngest daughter's defense, but Y/n had always been able to hold her own. Her sharp tongue shuts the accusation down quickly when she pointed out that Alicent's sons and daughter must not be true Targaryens then since they're half Hightower and were just lucky enough to bear silver hair.

Y/n didn't like King's Landing any more than Rhaenyra because of obvious reasons, but unlike Rhaenyra, the younger sister didn't really have a choice in leaving when both she and her husband were part of her father's court. As much as Y/n would love to raise her children alongside her sister in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra had been named the princess of said keep and therefore she had every right to live there. Y/n, being the younger daughter of Viserys and Aemma, had no such claim and unfortunately had no rights apart from those she earned when marrying her now husband.

Not to say she was complaining, however, since she loved Harwin with a burning passion and was happy to bear his sons and heirs of Harrenhal. Y/n had never been happier, and made peace with the fact that she would never have claims to anything like Rhaenyra did as long as she wasn't Viserys' heir. Y/n was content in just being a Targaryen princess, a dragon rider, a wife, and most proudly a mother. Nothing more.

Harwin relents after a fashion of heavy, grieving silence, adjusting his younger boy's head to rest more comfortably on his chest, "Did the maesters say you'll be safe to travel?"

"... No," she flashed a shy grin as if she had been caught stealing sweets, "But when has that ever stopped me?"

Harwin huffs out a small, exhausted laugh, a fond tone in his voice, "Have you noticed how much I've aged since I married the trickster that you are?"

"I've never tricked you into anything," Y/n tilts her head and smiles fondly back at him, "If anything, you're the one who's been tricking me. Only you could persuade me from causing a little chaos."

"Then I should have tried making my case back at King's Landing before we even packed for Driftmark."

"I'm pregnant, my love, not dying," Y/n decides to change the subject upon looking out the window and seeing Driftmark's rooftops in the distance, "I hope Daemon makes an appearance. He tends to act more of a stranger than usual when grieving."

~~~~~~~~~

Daemon is not there to greet his family when they arrive, but Rhaenyra is, along with her husband, Laenor, and their children, Jacaerys and Lucerys.

The royal family and their court all spill out of their line of carriages, King Viserys being the first to greet his oldest daughter with a hug and a kiss before greeting Laenor with his condolences. Alicent and her children dutifully say their grievances, but remain stiff during the whole exchange. Harwin emerges from his carriage, helping his sons out and then his heavily pregnant wife. Y/n's feet barely touched the ground before Rhaenyra embraced her.

"You look stunning," the older sister comments while holding Y/n's face in her hands, "Have the maesters determined the gender of the child?"

"They think it's a girl," Y/n beamed, glancing over at her husband, "And I think he is far more excited than I."

"Marvelous. You must tell me what names you have planned out over tea," Rhaenyra links her arm with Y/n as they began to walk.

"How is Joffrey?"

"Restless, I'm afraid. I left him at home with the wet nurse so that I may gain some sleep out of all of this. You know, if you're truly having a daughter, perhaps we might get to wed our children after all."

"Wouldn't that be lovely? We would get to spend our elder years together, watching our children and grandchildren rule all of the strong houses of the Seven Kingdoms. And let's not forget the dragons they would all ride."

The beautiful vision fades when the Lord and Lady of Driftmark finally come out to greet their guests. Rhaena and Baela are with them and are momentarily distracted from their grief in exchange for fawning over Y/n's rounded belly. Y/n gladly answered their questions if it meant they could briefly forget about their mother's passing. She also secretly enjoyed the girls' company, excited with the idea of possibly having her own girl soon. Jace and Luke trail behind them, but try to act as though they were not interested. Y/n included her nephews in the conversation, wanting them to bond with Laena's daughters. They were family after all, and family shouldn't feel like strangers to one another.

The funeral itself is brought down to the cliffsides where Laena's coffin is to be thrown into the sea. Vaemond Velaryon said a wonderful eulogy about his family's house and finally, the heavy coffin was thrown from the cliffs' edge, sinking to the very bottom of the deep. No one ever said a word until they walked back up to the keep in order to help themselves to wine and food. Plenty of people took this time to give their condolences to the family of the dead, and Corlys and Rhaenys bravely took in their guests despite mourning for the loss of their child. Laenor mysteriously vanishes, but no one says a word, not even when Corlys angrily sent Ser Qarl Correy to fetch him. Everyone was tight-lipped, the tension filling the air with the threat to break. Who were meant to be family members barely knew what to do with each other.

Speaking of, Y/n finally spotted Daemon lingering on the outskirts of the growing crowd and briefly left the children with Harwin and Rhaenyra so that she may give her condolences, "Uncle. My sincerest apologies for you and your daughters."

Daemon accepts the kiss on his cheek but keeps his hands folded in front of him, leaning against the stone balcony overlooking the sea. His eyes travel over his niece's face before traveling down to her swollen belly, smiling slightly as he spoke in Valyrian, "Not as sorry as I am for you to make such a harrowing journey in your predicament. My own wife was dying from childbirth before she took matters into her own hands. One could only wonder if the difficult labor was the consequence of our family traveling so often."

"You can't blame yourself for what's happened," Y/n rests a hand on her uncle's shoulder, reverting to her mother tongue, "Women die of childbirth every day, our mothers were no exception. Laena was strong and determined to die a dragonrider's death, which she succeeded."

Daemon briefly looks down and then looks off to the side. Y/n follows his gaze and spots her father across the yard, eyeing the two of them before turning away and speaking with Corlys Velaryon. Lyonel Strong is standing beside the King, with young Baelor weaving between his two grandfathers, unbothered. Y/n looks back at her uncle and whispers in his ear in the common tongue, "Speak with him. He misses you."

She pulls away and gives Daemon his space, carefully hobbling over to her usual social circles. Harwin has a chair waiting for her as their friends and family are gathered around it. Harwin holds Y/n's hand to steady her as she sits, gratefully taking a drink from a servant girl. Osmund approached his mother once she was settled and she immediately grabs his hand with an encouraging smile.

"Why don't you go and see to your cousins, hm?" Y/n gently squeezed her son's smaller hand, her thumb tracing shapes in his skin, "They've lost their mother. They could use a kind word."

Osmund looked as though he was ready to pout and whine until he glanced up at his father. One stern look from Harwin and the little lord sighs and nods obediently, leaning over and kissing his mother's cheek before walking away to find Rhaena and Baela.

Rhaenyra watches her nephew walk off, a cup of wine in her hands, "Is he ill-tempered?"

"Not usually. It's been a long journey to Driftmark and he was sad he couldn't fly here. It's also the first time he's ever experienced loss. I don't think he knows how to properly react yet," Y/n absently rubs her stomach, playfully smiling up at her husband, "He does get his might from his father though."

"As one could expect from the son of Ser Breakbones," Rhaenyra chimes in with amusement as she now watches her sister's movements, "So for names, have you decided on any?"

"A few," Harwin answered from his stance behind his wife's chair, "If the maesters were mistaken and it is a boy, we want to name him Viserys," Rhaenyra smiles as he continued, "If it's a girl... we're still deciding on just one."

"We've been going back and forth," Y/n sighs, exhausted by the memory alone, "Alysanne, Alyssa, Nymeria, Visenya and... and Aemma."

Rhaenyra pauses mid-sip, slowly pulling the goblet away from her lips when she found she couldn't swallow, eyes blinking rapidly as she wordlessly gripped Y/n's shoulder. Neither sister said a word, but they understood each other all the same. Rhaenyra pardons herself, deciding she needed fresh air away from the crowds. Once she caught sight of Daemon leaving the gathering, she makes up her mind and sends her sons to bed before she, too, disappeared from the public eye.

Y/n watched her sister leave with her uncle and chose to ignore it, smiling and acknowledging the King when he slowly made his way to her after bidding the Queen goodnight.

"My child," Viserys took his daughter's hand and kissed it, "I'm retiring for the night. Do try and get some rest before the return journey."

"Yes, Father. If it is my king's wish."

Viserys smiles and nods to Harwin before exiting. Eventually, Princess Rhaenys walks up to the couple after consoling her granddaughters, and Harwin offers her a seat beside Y/n. Rhaenys accepts and leans close to her distant cousin while overlooking the crowd.

"I had hoped for your baby to be born by the time this gathering happened," the elder woman admits, "I had hoped new life would've outshined the loss of an older one."

"Laena was still young," Y/n held onto Rhaenys' arm, "And strong-willed. I would rather have people remember her life today instead of celebrating the birth of my child. Laena deserves that. I'm so... I'm so sorry, Princess Rhaenys."

Rhaenys only nods, unable to allow herself tears in a public setting, keeping her eyes fixed on Y/n's hand on her arm for a focus point, "No parent should outlive their child."

"And yet, we all wish for our mothers to be with us for the rest of our lives," Y/n looks off, heart-clenching, "I wish my mother got to grow old. I wish she got to meet her grandchildren and die fat and happy... But I wouldn't wish that for myself if it meant your granddaughters got to have their mother back. I wouldn't wish for Rhaena and Baela to go through the same loss I went through when I was their age. I wouldn't wish that for my sons or my nephews."

Rhaenys stands, feeling the emotions threatening to spill from her eyes and she couldn't bear to cause a scene. She squeezes Y/n's shoulder, nodding in thanks when the words couldn't come out, and then she left. A few hours pass and then both Harwin and Y/n round up their boys and bring them to their beds. Once their children are asleep, the parents turn in for the night as well, hearts heavy and exhausted.

Harwin had been quiet during most of the interactions at the gathering, but his thoughts were loud in his actions. While helping his wife undress, he couldn't help but kiss her bare shoulder and let his hands linger around her stomach, storms brewing in his eyes, "Years ago, I couldn't understand why your father was so... broken after the loss of your mother and brother. But now... as your husband and father to our boys... I can't even fathom what I would do if that were you in your mother's place."

Y/n quietly hushes Harwin as she turned to face him, letting her fingers graze over his beard, "It happens to women all the time, my love. It cannot be helped. You can't fight your way out of that. My mother used to say that a woman's battlefield is the birthing bed, and unfortunately, it's not a battle you can fight for me."

Harwin nods despite the look of defeat in his eyes. He had always been a man of action, able to protect those he loves with his might. However, Ser Breakbones always felt helpless whenever his wife goes through pregnancy. He felt useless and the only thing he could do was continue to be a husband and father, but not a soldier. Up until now, his family didn't need him to be a soldier.

The two of them go to bed, held in each others' arms as the moon moves slowly overhead and commanding the unforgivable waves to crash against the rocky cliffs outside the keep. It was soothing to listen to as sleep overtook the tired pair, more soothing than the sounds of King's Landing at night. It was easy to drift into dreams when a beautiful place such as Driftmark was so peaceful and quiet.

That is until a frantic knock is heard pounding on their bedroom door hours later, rudely awakening Harwin and Y/n from their slumber. Harwin crawls out of bed and walks to the door, "Who is it?"

"Harrold Westerling, Ser Harwin."

Y/n sits up in bed, alarmed as both she and Harwin exchange a worried expression. Harwin helps her stand up and throw a dark red robe over her nightgown before they beckon the Commander of the Kingsguard inside. The old man throws the heavy door open, straightening his posture and bowing in Y/n's presence as she addressed him.

"Ser Harrold, what seems to be the matter?"

"Forgive me for the late hour, Princess," Harrold appeared out of breath and possibly even horrified, further worrying the Strongs, "But there has been an accident and your sons are waiting for you in the Great Hall."

Neither of them questions it, both parents racing out of the room with Ser Harrold closely following them. They weave through the hallways of the dark keep, barely seeing a soul awake until they burst into the doors leading into the Great Hall.

Most of the souls that were once sleeping under the roof of the keep were all gathered in this one room, the lights of torches and the blazing fireplaces dancing over everyone's grave faces. Y/n first spots silver hair and finds Rhaenyra and Daemon, standing together off to the side and holding onto Osmund and Baelor. Both Y/n and Harwin run to their sons and gather the boys in their arms, worry filling their voices as they question why both of them had blood on their little faces.

"Ozzy, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Are you hurt? Let me see it, son."

"Why is your nose bleeding?"

"Tell us what happened, Bae."

Poor little Baelor was crying too hard to get a word out, clinging onto his mother's skirts like a lifeline even as his father was kneeling beside him and examining the bloodied and bruised knuckles on his tiny left hand. Osmund looked angry and defiant, a cut cracked over the bridge of his nose and bleeding along with his flaring nostrils as his mother's hands trail over his injured face. Finally looking around at the rest of the crowd, Y/n noticed Viserys and Alicent on the other side of the room, the Queen kneeling beside the maester as he tended to Young Aemond, the prince sitting beside the fireplace with half of his face stitched up. Rhaena and Baela were also present and bleeding from their faces, hugging either side of their Grandmother Rhaenys' waist and Corlys stands protectively in front of them. A few faces were missing from this picture, such as Laenor and his sons, but Rhaenyra doesn't acknowledge this as she stands close to her sister and answers her questions.

"The children were fighting each other. A knife was drawn--"

"Your son took my son's eye!" Alicent proclaimed hysterically, unshed tears in her manic eyes as she stood up and stepped toward the center of the room.

Y/n's eyes widen and looked down at her oldest child, "Ozzy?"

"Aemond stole and claimed Vhagar," Osmund explained, "He said horrible things about Aunt Laena when we all confronted him."

"She attacked me!" Aemond snarled as he pointed at Baela, thus starting a chain of children arguing over each other.

"He attacked Baela!"

"You insulted our mother!"

"He broke Ozzy's nose!"

"He stole my dragon!"

"He could've killed me!"

"It should be my son telling the tale!" Alicent roared.

"He was only defending himself!"

"He could've killed Baelor!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Silence!" Viserys demanded, slamming his cane down against the cobblestone floor, "I am your king and I will have the truth of what happened! Who drew the blade?!"

"It was mine," Osmund admits, hanging his head when all eyes turned to him, "I drew it when I thought Aemond was going to kill Bae."

"He wouldn't stop hitting me," Baelor whimpered into his mother's swollen belly, thus shattering Y/n's heart and angering Harwin's as he stood, placing himself between the royal family and his own with a stern glare.

"Let me see the knife."

Ser Harrold brought the weapon forward as evidence but wasn't stupid enough to just hand it over to Harwin. Ser Breakbones noticed the knife and nodded, looking back at Princess Y/n, "It's the one I gave him."

"But Osmund didn't cut Aemond!" Baela yelled to her cousin's defense, "It was--"

Her voice dies once she noticed something in Osmund's eyes and Rhaena elbowed her. Y/n caught this exchange and gently pinched her older boy's chin, forcing him to look up at her.

"Osmund Strong. Did you or did you not attack Prince Aemond with a knife?"

Osmund's throat bobbed nervously, eyes trying to focus on anything other than his mother's gaze. Y/n found this bizarre, considering that he had been honest with her until now. Then, realization began to dawn on the princess as she slowly looked down onto a different child, not Osmund. All eyes follow her gaze until they all land on Little Baelor. Y/n's other hand ran through her baby boy's hair.

"Bae... was it you?"

Baelor continued to sob, shaking from head to toe, "Aemond grabbed a rock! He was gonna hurt Ozzy!"

"I lost the knife," Osmund finally admitted, trying to keep everyone's attention away from his little brother, "And I got pushed to the ground, but it wasn't Baelor's fault! He took the knife to protect me!"

Alicent scowled in disgust, "And so you cut Aemond's face--"

"Your son was hitting my baby boy!" Y/n screamed back, beyond all of the Queen's slander.

"Seven Hells, Your Grace, he's only five years old!" Harwin came to his family's defense.

"And yet he's capable of spilling my son's blood!"

"Is this what you condone, my Queen?" Y/n's voice drops, a clear tone of challenge, "To have your son, a prince, attack little girls when they defend their mother's name?"

"Your sons attacked mine!"

"To defend their cousins," Y/n reminds her and the rest of those in the room, "Surely you wouldn't raise your son to believe he could do whatever he wanted just because he's royalty. Surely, the good Queen herself wouldn't teach her children to mistreat women or smash a little boy's head in with a rock."

Alicent is momentarily struck by the mockery, quickly recovering with a small scoff, her top lip twitching, "Are you questioning how I parent my children, Princess?"

"I am not questioning your parenting, Your Grace. I'm denying its existence."

Daemon grins proudly at his niece as the room is filled with gasps of dismay, clearly being the only one amused by Y/n's retort. Alicent's face crumbled as though someone had just smacked her in the face. With the tension straining, Harwin stood closer to his wife and children, his arm hovering over Y/n's back as Viserys clicked his cane upon the floor.

"Enough, Y/n. Trading insults won't change what happened. Aemond, tell me the truth, boy," the King slowly limps over to the bloodied prince, "Did you hit Lady Baela?"

Aemond looked as though he had been caught red-handed, pale, and stubborn. Slowly, he grits out his answer, "Yes. After she hit me."

"Liar!"

"Silence!" Viserys roared before glaring back down at his son, "Aemond, did you grab a rock?"

"To defend myself!"

"I was already on the ground, you idiot!" Osmund snapped, spitting out blood and saliva.

"Osmund!" Y/n reprimands her son, tightly holding his shoulder as Harwin reverts his gaze onto the boy.

"Hold your tongue, son."

"But no one was attacking him by then! We were all on the ground!"

"It's true!"

"Silence!" Viserys slammed his cane again.

"This was clearly just an act of self-defense, Your Grace," Y/n bravely continued her defense of her children, against her father's order.

"All of this... over an insult," Alicent huffs out a breath of disbelief with her eyes rimmed with tears, "My son has lost an eye."

Viserys, distressed, tired, and angry, nearly threw his arms around like a child having a tantrum, "This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!"

The whole room froze, shocked with disbelief. Alicent appeared appalled as her husband slowly limped past her towards the door. Y/n witnessed something snap within the Hightower woman as she spoke, "That is insufficient."

Viserys slowly turns around to face her as the Queen continued, "Aemond has been damaged, permanently, my King. 'Good will' cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken."

"What would you have me do?"

"There is a debt to be paid," the sentence alone sent a chill down Y/n's back, eyes dancing between her father and stepmother. Viserys stared at his wife in disbelief as the Queen strongly proclaimed, "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

Murmurs and gasps of horror filled the room; Harwin and Y/n's grip on their sons tighten protectively. Viserys tried to calm Alicent, wanting to defuse the situation, "My dear wife--"

"He is your son, Viserys," Alicent cried, the tears finally spilling, "Your blood."

"Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment."

Silence fell again and Viserys thought it was over. He turns to leave just as his wife spoke again, her tear-stained face straightening up as her eyes turn to another man in the room, "If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston... bring me the eye of Baelor Strong."

Criston Cole's eyes scan the room as Baelor begins to step back away from the crowd and from his parents, distraught and terrified as he spoke in his small, innocent voice, "Mother!"

"Alicent..." Viserys warned.

"He can choose which eye to keep. A privilege he did not grant my son!" Alicent snapped back while glaring down at the offending family.

"You will do no such thing." Y/n sternly stated, willing her voice not to shake in fear, but to be as powerful as the Queen's own demand.

"Stay your hand!" Viserys snaps to Ser Criston, to which Alicent pushes back.

"No, you are sworn to me!"

Ser Criston feels the eyes of Ser Harrold on him and finds his words, avoiding Alicent's gaze, "As your protector, my Queen."

Alicent reared back in betrayal, barely flinching as Viserys stepped up to her in challenge, "Alicent. This matter... is finished. Do you understand?"

She scans his face, unable to form a reply as he spins around and tries to meet the gaze of everyone else in the room, "And let it be known! No more fighting shall be done within the blood of my own family."

Y/n relaxed, her voice dropping its firm hold as she gently addressed the King, "Thank you, Father."

Both she and Harwin turn back to their sons, the father beckoning the boys to follow him as he tried leading his family away. The boys go to follow Harwin, still shaking in fear, while Y/n takes her time to follow, her hand gingerly caressing her stomach.

Viserys takes one more look at Alicent before turning back towards the door. He doesn't feel alarmed at the sound of her feet quickly following him, but it's not until he felt the empty space of his Valyrian dagger at his belt did his heart suddenly sink to his stomach.

Ser Harrold is the first to react, stepping towards the King, "Your Grace-!"

"Alicent!" Viserys spins back around, watching his wife's auburn hair disappear into the crowd with his dagger in hand.

Harrold sprints forward, shouting commands to his guards without turning back, "Stay with the King!"

"Hold your approach!" Criston Cole demands against his commander's wishes.

Others began to scream and shout a warning to others, pulling away and giving Alicent a wide berth with her newly acquired weapon. Y/n felt the hairs on the back of her neck before she heard the shouts of the Kingsguard along with her father's voice shouting Alicent's name. Spinning around, Y/n is met with a vengeful queen, Alicent screaming as she brought the raised dagger down on the princess.

Harwin spun around as the chaos began to rise, eyes widening as he immediately takes a large step forward, "Y/n, LOOK OUT!"

Y/n's arm rises and she's able to catch the arm Alicent held the blade in, trying to push the other woman away but they had both taken hold of each other's arms, pushing and pulling against each other, grunting under the weight of the force.

Harwin jolts forward in order to interfere, heart racing in fear and rage. Lord Lyonel steps in front of his son, however, forcing Harwin back just as the blade came down and Y/n had caught it, "No, son! Do not incriminate yourself!"

"Y/n!" Harwin yelled, struggling against his father. He was definitely strong enough to push Lyonel away, easily, hadn't two Kingsguard stepped forward and held onto Ser Breakbones.

It was pure chaos. Kingsguard held swords out to those who dared try to come to Y/n's aid, conflicted with their duties but wanting to protect their Queen if it meant letting her pursue the princess. Ser Harrold was easily just as conflicted, not knowing who he should order his men to protect as he tried pushing through the crowd. He makes it to the two women, but with his mind not yet made up, he instead circles them and pushes lords, ladies, and other soldiers back if they tried to step forward.

Harrold sees someone rushing forward and holds his arm out to them, "Do not, Ser Criston!"

"Alicent!" Viserys roared, but couldn't move much as he stumbled with his cane.

Baelor screams in terror as everyone who formed a circle around his mother and Alicent pushed him back as they grant the women space. Harrold tried yelling over the chaos as others also screamed in fear and protest, all trying to outscream the other.

"Do not, Ser Criston!"

Criston Cole, fierce and determined, tries getting into the circle, perhaps wanting to perform his duty and protect his queen. He pushes people away to get to Alicent and Y/n, but Daemon suddenly steps forward and is able to stop the knight in his tracks, keeping him in place as the two men glared at one another until two other Kingsguard took Criston by the arms.

"Alicent!"

"No!" Harwin shouts, desperately struggling against his bonds and giving the Kingsguard a workout in restraining him.

Rhaenys keeps her granddaughters behind her while she made a grab for Osmund and Baelor, pulling the boys to her body while Corlys shields them all behind him. Rhaenyra is left open and tries to make it to her sister, but Ser Harrold grabs her gently and keeps her back while simultaneously trying to get a hold of his men, "Stay your hand, Cole!"

Rhaenyra struggles against Ser Harrold's hold on her, shouting over at the Queen, "You've gone too far, Alicent!"

"I?" Alicent questions in distress, still fighting for control against Y/n while speaking between the two sisters, distraught and unhinged, "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law! While you and your sister flout all to do as you please!"

"Alicent, let her go!" Viserys demanded from outside the circle.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" Alicent's tears continued to fall down her face as her eyes search Y/n's while she screamed, "It's trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"Release the blade, Alicent," Rhaenyra demanded.

Alicent desperately tried to breathe, panting under Y/n's strength and her own despair, "And now you take my son's eye, and to even that, you feel entitled."

"Exhausting, wasn't it?" Y/n grunts, a jolt of pain running through her as she desperately tried to keep the point of the blade from her own eye, the flames of the fireplace dancing over the steel and her eyes, "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness."

Her voice lowers, glare dead set on Alicent's face, "But now they see you as you are."

Alicent pushes all her body weight and any strength she had left into pulling her arm out of Y/n's hold, grunting in rage as she freed the blade and made a swipe at the princess. Shock settles the room, Alicent stepping away to observe her handiwork, only for her eyes to immediately widen once she finally settled on what she had done.

Y/n had taken several steps away, the pain not entirely making itself aware until she heard gasps from all around. Corlys had caught her by the shoulders to steady the princess, noticing the way she was unconsciously clutching her arm. Both of them look down at the offending arm, noticing the blood soaking through Y/n's dress sleeve and spilling through her fingers. The blood droplets splatter onto the floor as Viserys stands beside Alicent, watching in horror as his little girl bleeds because of a wound his own wife inflicted. In her shock, Alicent's grip on the dagger loosens and the blade clatters to the floor, paying no mind to it as all she could do was stare at the cut in Y/n's arm.

Harwin had paused in terror before finally realizing that Y/n was still standing and breathing, the blade now out of danger. Shock draining from him, he pushes the Kingsguard off of him, the two soldiers too stunned to react and let go of him. Harwin pushes past his father and rushes to his wife, gathering her up in his arms and holding onto her wrist so that Corlys could properly inspect the wound from the other side of her. Y/n doesn't speak or react to her husband's hold on her, too stunned to do anything but stand and stare, leaning into Harwin for support. Both Osmund and Baelor break away from Rhaenys and run to their parents, holding onto their mother for dear life. With Criston Cole backing off, Daemon slowly walks forward until he is at Harwin's side, his hand on one of Osmund's shoulders. Rhaenyra pushes Ser Harrold away from her and also joins the Strong family along with Daemon and Corlys, the princess stepping in front of her sister and inspecting Y/n's face and then her wound. Watching as the blood continued to flow, Rhaenyra's posture slowly straightened, the rage of a dragon and a protective older sister taking hold. Unable to calm her anger, Rhaenyra breathes harshly through her nose and spun back around, glaring daggers at Alicent.

"You dare attack my sister!"

The room felt cold, despite the fire blazing hot beside the opposing families. Alicent couldn't bear to look Rhaenyra in the eye, so the princess moves her gaze onto her father, "Your Grace, I beg of you to open your eyes. Your wife just attacked one of your daughters born of our mother and of true Valyrian blood. She meant to bring harm to the princess and her unborn child."

Viserys eyes move to watch Y/n and her family tend to her, sadness and longing evident on his face as Rhaenyra bravely continued, "I am your heir, Your Grace," Viserys looks back to his eldest child, "But should anything happen to me, Y/n would take my place. Therefore, this attack on my sister is a treasonous act against the crown and your bloodline! If you are the honorable king that holds those who commit treason accountable... then no exception can be made for anyone of any station if you value your family and inspiring your loyal subjects."

Y/n slowly begins to come back to her senses, feeling the warm blood run down her arm and another warm liquid run down her legs. She pales as she tried focusing on the sound of Viserys' voice, trying not to panic, "It was a foolish action, Rhaenyra. But even you, as a mother, understand what it's like to protect your children. Alicent was only trying to avenge hers."

"By what? Killing my sister?" Rhaenyra's voice broke, eyes slowly starting to mist, "Carving out the child she carries?" Viserys flinched at that, "What happened to Prince Aemond's eye was a tragic accident. But this... this was intentional. Queen Alicent intended on spilling blood."

Rhaenyra hears a small cry of a kitten behind her, but upon spinning back around, she only saw Y/n clutching her stomach and slowly bending over, soft cries escaping her lips, and the men surrounding her bent down to the princess in confusion. Rhaenyra's eyes widen when she noticed a clear puddle beneath Y/n's skirts slowly pooling against the cobblestone to mix with the blood. Rhaenyra rushes towards her sister, forgetting Viserys and Alicent.

"Y/n?" Harwin's stomach dropped as the wheels began to turn in his head, eyes widening in realization.

"Mother? What's wrong?" Osmund asked innocently, holding onto his little brother.

"She's started her labors," Rhaenyra explains while letting her sister grip her arms tightly, "I wouldn't be surprised if the harrowing events of tonight spurred this on."

Daemon stood back from the group aiding Y/n, keeping a hand on his sword and an eye on anyone who may take this opportunity to pursue his family in a time of vulnerability. He stands guard while Rhaenyra and Harwin frantically help Y/n stand straight again, holding onto both of her arms. They wordlessly follow Corlys as he leads them out of the room and down the hall, back to Y/n and Harwin's chambers. Rhaenys thought it best to take Rhaena and Baela to Jacaerys and Lucerys' quarters where they were no doubt still sleeping through all of this. The older princess beckons the Strong boys to follow so that she might keep an eye on all of the children, unconsciously -or perhaps not- leaving the royal children out. When neither of Y/n and Harwin's sons moves, Daemon takes them both by the shoulder and directs them to follow Rhaenys, the Rogue Prince becoming a protective shadow for the children as Rhaenys whisks them away.

Corlys opens the doors to Harwin and Y/n's chamber and the Targaryen princess is brought inside, the Sea Snake calling for the maester along with the midwives who had traveled with the royal company. Rhaenyra and Harwin help Y/n get comfortable as another wave of pain takes over, the hair near her face beginning to stick to her skin as she tried taking deep breaths, exhaling shakily.

"I will stay with her, Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra vowed while dabbing a cool cloth over her sister's forehead, "You may go."

"I'm staying here," Harwin states confidently.

Y/n quickly grabs his hand through a contraction, squeezing hard as she pushes out words, "No no no, you need to go stay with the boys. We can't trust anyone with our sons for as long as we stay here."

"Y/n--"

"Alicent just threatened to pluck out Baelor's eye and attacked me," Harwin tried not to look, but clearly there was still blood seeping out of the cut on Y/n's arm. Y/n appeared to ignore this, trying to catch her breath, "I don't want my sons left alone for even a second until we leave. Harwin, please, go protect the boys. There's nothing you can do for me now."

Dutifully, he nods, standing over his wife and lingering a kiss on the top of her head before slowly backing away and leaving the room, practically forcing himself not to turn back as he goes hunting down his children.

A maester arrives and first looks into fixing the cut on Y/n's arm while the midwives attend to prepping for the baby, hurrying around the room in search of fresh clean towels and Milk of the Poppy. As promised, Rhaenyra stayed by her sister's side during the whole process, letting Y/n squeeze her hand as hard as she liked, whispering soft words of encouragement, and dabbing her face with a cool cloth.

For obvious reasons, Y/n didn't get any sleep that night, but neither could anyone else in the keep. Everyone was restless, even those unaware of Y/n's labors. After the events of the night, everyone was high-strung and uneasy, and some were downright afraid. Alicent returned to her chambers, never wanting to see a soul until morning. Viserys went to bed, but lay awake at night, guilt and remorse running through his veins. The royal children retired to their respective rooms, but they all stayed awake and Aemond even sat at the window, watching Vhagar in the distance with a smirk.

Daemon, Harwin, and Rhaenys continued to stay and entertain the children, tending to their bleeding faces and trying to make them forget their worries. Jace and Luke, none the wiser for what had happened, gladly entertained the idea of everyone staying up and having fun in their rooms, putting a smile on everyone's faces as they ran around and played. Daemon even found himself teaching all the children small bits of High Valyrian, boys and girls alike sitting down all around him with Baelor and a book in his lap. Baela sat next to her father, her head on his shoulder, trying to rest her eyes after everything that had happened to her today, the only one too exhausted to repeat her father's Valyrian phrases unlike the rest of the children.

Rhaenys sat and quietly listened to these lessons with a cup of wine in hand, while Harwin stood at the door, sometimes pacing, sometimes entertaining the children with stories. But not once, the entire night, did he leave his post at the door, his hand always on his hilt.

The moon had not yet disappeared but the sky was starting to brighten into beautiful colors over the ocean when the door opens and Harwin held onto his sword a little tighter. Everyone looks up with bated breath as Rhaenyra walks in, standing tall and regal as if she had not been awake all night.

"Mother!" Luke gasped excitedly while standing up and running to the princess.

She practically beams as he tightly hugged her waist, her eyes darting up to Harwin with delight, "Y/n's delivered a girl, and they're both going to be fine."

The whole room relaxes with relief, the last of the tension finally leaving the air and leaving them all understandably exhausted. Harwin's whole stiff posture relaxes as one of his hands rises to rub his face. Rhaenyra silently laughs, joy still evident on her expression, "The maester asks for only you to go and see her. Your sons can visit their mother once she's rested."

Harwin nods and swiftly leaves the room, while Rhaenyra turns to the rest of the family, "The royal family leaves Driftmark today, but with your permission, Princess Rhaenys, I think it would be wise if the rest of us stayed a little longer for Y/n and everyone else to get some much-needed rest."

Rhaenys agrees just as Laenor pops into the room, disheveled and groggy. He looks at everyone's expression with a puzzled look, finally turning to Rhaenyra, "What have I missed?"

Harwin makes it back to his chambers in record speed, trying not to appear hasty but also anxious to see his wife and their new daughter. Entering the room, a few of the midwives were cleaning up and leaving, the maester long since gone. Y/n was asleep in their bed, flushed with her silver-blonde hair curling around her head due to sweat, but a small bundle was nestled beside her, and it was squirming. Harwin stepped closer to the bed, making note of Y/n's arm now wrapped in bandages before inspecting the bundle of blankets, his smile softening by what he found.

The infant was small, her little cleaned face the only thing peeking out of the blankets aside from her tiny fingers slowly curling around the fabric as she slept. Like her brothers, she sported small fuzzy tufts of dark hair and even darker eyelashes. The baby girl's lips were slightly open, letting out soft hums as she dreamed. Harwin's heart had never fallen in love faster than it did at this very moment, his finger lightly caressing her cheek and amazed by the softness of her skin.

"My love."

Harwin's eyes drift over to his once slumbering wife, noticing her eyes have opened and she was tiredly smiling up at him. Overcome by relief and happiness, Harwin laughs under his breath before leaning over and kissing Y/n on the lips, taking her breath away. Eventually, he pulled away, his thumb running over her cheekbone.

"Amazing as always, my dear," he whispers, unable to resist kissing her forehead, "How are you?"

Y/n slowly blinks, humming, "Exhausted."

"You can rest. I say you've more than earned it."

Her eyes peek open again, "The boys?"

"Safe and sound. They are in good hands. Rhaenyra will bring them to you once you've healed," his hand grazes over her bandaged arm, "What did the maester say about this?"

"It was Valyrian steel. So the cut was clean. A scar will remain, I'm afraid."

"I will take a new scar over your death any day," Harwin kissed his wife's forehead again before carefully lifting the small bundle into his arms, attempting not to wake the baby. His smile widens once he's positioned her properly and naturally begins to rock, "Well, she's finally here. Have you thought about the names we picked?"

"I did... but none of them seem right now that I've met her."

"Well, do you have another one in mind?"

Y/n thought long and hard, fingers drumming against the feather pillow. She thought about tonight's events, how it had all started with Vhagar being stolen and Laena's memory insulted. To have those two things happen along with the attack in the Great Hall, it felt as though people had tainted the memory of a young and fierce woman who was taken from this world too soon.

"Laena," Y/n strongly announced, "I like to believe she was here with us this past night. I like to believe she protected us and she deserves to be honored now that I've delivered my daughter in her family's home."

Harwin stared down at their daughter, playing with the name on his lips as he watched her sleep, "Laena Strong. I like it."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Osmund was named after King Aegon I Targaryen’s Hand, Osmund Strong, who was assigned the Hand of the King after Orys Baratheon’s death. Baelor was named to reference Baelor the Blessed/Beloved, but it’s obviously not him since the original Baelor won’t be born until after the Dance of Dragons. Laena is obviously named after Vhagar’s true rider, aside from Visenya. I would have named Y/n’s daughter after Visenya, but spoiler alert, Daemon and Rhaenyra eventually have a daughter already named that. She’s probably the baby in Rhaenyra’s belly in Episode 8.

[lady-ashfade]

What ever it takes.

Yandere Alicent & Aemond x Sister/daughter reader. Miniseries.

What ever it takes. Part two. Part three. Alternate ending.

I can’t help but love the idea of yandere house targaryen but sometimes about these two just stick out to me.

Plot: You are the twin sister of Aemond targaryen, and the daughter of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen. Your mother and brother have always had a sense of protectiveness towards you. Then you go missing.

Words: 611.

Reader appearance: I try and not give any sense of what the reader looks like but this being a twin reader you know it’s coming. But the readers description will just be Brown hair, purple eyes. 

Warnings: Small yandere tendencies. No real statement of the targaryen way of love…If you know what I mean (Only with the one eyed prince.)

The sun has only be shining not more then two hours, the birds flying and chirping and everyone had awakened to start their day. Queen Alicent sat on her padded chair reading what ever report was onto top. She had awaited her youngest daughters arrival for their morning cup of tea but most days it was the only thing keeping Alicent from going mad.

Alicent didn’t like to pick favorite between her children and she loved them all deeply but there was something about y/n she just couldn’t help but favor. Maybe it was hair that matched hers, or the way she would always cling to her at a younger age, or to the smile and cheerful attitude she always carried. The only real resemblance you have to the targaryen blood is your purple eyes, and the dragon you possess. You had your mother captivated and she loved you with all her heart. 

Then there was Aemond who saw the same thing in y/n as his mother, only different. Y/n had come into this world with him to face every battle and challenge thrown their way. No matter what happened she was always at his side to brighten up the darkness. Y/n was his light that he held so close and dear. He loves you more then anything in the world, but how could he not? His mother and him agreed to protect you at all cost, no matter how high of a price.

“You’re grace.” The doors opened as one of her knights stepped through rushing and urgently speaking. “We can not find the princess in her chambers, your father sent us here to tell you.” She didn’t have much time to think as she tossed the papers next to her but landing in the floor then standing standing up.

“What happened? Tell me everything, now!” She demanded as her eyes grew wide and small tears in her eyes, she looked angry. All Alicent saw was red. “Your Grace, as of this morning her maiden went to awaken her but she was not found. Her room trashed and a note was left, that’s why your father sent for you.” Bowing his head to not inflict any wrath of the queen.

Alicent rushed passed him with a heavy step, her hand clinched in a tight fist while she worried what had happened to you. And why her father knew first. How long has he known? How long as her precious girl been missing. “Mother?” She almost didn’t notice aemond in the hallway but hearing his voice stop her.

“Your sister is missing.” His body teased up as did his jaw, he moved to her side as they continued to walk. “And what has happened? When did she go missing.” The queen just shook her head. “I do not know but the hand of the king does.” She spat the words out with venom.

If just the feeling of anger and hurt could kill: Otto would be dead right now and who ever dared to take you. Stopped before walking into Ottos room Alicent grabbed her sons arm and gripped it tight and the look in her eyes he knew all to well. He was sure he had the same, they both knew the feeling.

“You must find your sister, if she is taken then you must burn her captors to ash and bone. My little girl is missing- Your sister is missing and is possibly in grave danger. I do not trust anyone else…It is your job my son.” But he already knew that already. She didn’t even have to say it.

“What ever it takes” 



[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

HotD seems a bit kinder to Ser Otto and Queen Alicent and now even Ser Gwayne. Granted the Hightowers we meet in the main story are only just briefly mentioned by other characters, but what do hear of them like Leyton or Lynesse aren't that great. The Lannister get a lot of (not undeserved) flack from within the fandom, but are under-the-radar terrible as Houses like the Lannisters or even the Freys or Boltons?

I wouldn't say HOTD is kinder to the Hightowers, as much as it allows them to be real people and not just historical caricatures or empty shells. (The biggest failure of F&B's history book conceit, more than any of the other problems with that book.)

For example, Gwayne in the book gets assigned to the Gold Cloaks to keep an eye on them in case some are still loyal to Daemon, and then during the Fall of King's Landing gets murked by his own men because indeed they are still loyal to Daemon. That's it, that's all there is to him, there's no there there. (Although the "You turncloaks!" "Daemon gave us these cloaks and they're gold no matter how you turn them." is a great line, and I hope it's kept even if Gwayne may not be involved.)

Gwayne in the show, however, is a prissy classist racist aristocrat, who is still brave in battle and protective of his sister and caring for his nephew; he's a knight who helps depict GRRM's knighthood themes with Criston; he's an actual person, both good and bad as a GRRM character should be. I have hopes that Gwayne takes the Ser Hobert Hightower role for the Caltrops and Second Tumbleton, that would be a great ending (especially considering his relationship with Daeron) for an excellent actor.

Re the main story Hightowers -- well, generally GRRM goes by Tolstoy's principle of "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Or as he put it, "happy families are boring." Not everyone always gets along in real families, and even the most beloved king and queen can be real assholes to their daughters. I imagine that when we actually meet Leyton in TWOW and find out exactly how complicated his family is -- four wives and ten children, you know there's friction there -- we'll see something imperfect, but different from the Lannisters, Freys, or Boltons. Maybe more dysfunctional the way Cregan Stark's family was dysfunctional or the Tyrells are dysfunctional. (If you think they're a perfectly happy family, then you entirely missed Olenna's relationship with Mace, Mace's relationship with Willas and Loras, Mace's relationship with Margaery, Olenna's relationship with Alerie, and so on and so forth.)

I can see Leyton as a patriarch who became increasingly distant as he got more into esoteric research (he hasn't come down from the top of the Hightower in more than a decade), leaving the eldest son Baelor to manage everything practical in the absence of his father. Was Leyton already half-distant the year before he stopped leaving the Hightower, and that's why he let his youngest daughter (only 16 or 17 years old) marry a newly knighted 35-year-old poor-ass lord from the back of beyond just because he did well in a tourney? How did the rest of the family react to that? The people of Oldtown don't think much of Lynesse now, but how did they feel when their young golden lady was taken away by a bear? These kinds of complicated relationships are the sort of detail GRRM loves to sink his teeth into, and is one of the reasons I'm so looking forward to Sam's Oldtown chapters almost more than anything in TWOW.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Masterlist

Hi! This is so I don't lose track of my fics so far. I thank you all for your kind reviews and reblogs, they make my day. Main is blueredwrites. Feel free to drop your thoughts be it in the form of asks, replies or reblogs. 😉

REQUESTS NOW OPEN! SEE THE RULES HERE

What am I working on?

✨️ Indicates smut.

🪆 Indicates possibly triggering.

🍂 Indicates angst.

🧸 Fluff.

House of the Dragon

Alicent Hightower

Oneshots

Crime and Punishment ✨️🪆

The Queen and you get along wonderfully. After all, the strongest friendships are based on shared interests.

Speak now

Alicent is not too sure of how she feels about you. Or about the fact you just proposed to run away. But she is sure about how she feels about the wedding. 

Harwin Strong

Oneshots

Win some, lose some✨️

Harwin and his wife have a disagreement over communication skills. The end result is exactly as the title says.

Lemon cake ✨️

Harwin’s wife is a tough crowd.

Aegon Targaryen

Oneshots

Daedalus

On the eve of Aegon’s coronation, both of you disappear. Your mother imagines a thousand scenarios. But were you really abducted by him or is it a simple coincidence?

Aemond Targaryen

Mini series

Death in four moves 🪆

Aemond and his new partner explore trusting again after SA.

Death in four moves 🧸

Whatever souls are made of 🍂🧸

MAD

Caught in the crossfire of your familiy's ploys, you never expected to catch the eye of the enemy.

Threads of fate

Muña✨️

In which you find yourself caught in a deadly game of tug of war between two dragons. Daemon, your husband, and Aemond, the man who promises to make you a widow.

Oneshots

Last man on earth ✨️

No one told King Aemond about the Song of Ice and Fire. As the daughter of Rhaenyra, you have one last mission left.

Categorical✨️

Aemond needs to blow off some steam, so you offer to verbally spar with him. 

Last word ✨️

Aemond instructs you on the importance of protecting your virtue.

Push and pull ✨️

You just love riling him up. Especially on his name day.

Bouquet of Violets 🧸🍂

You are happy in your marriage, even if your husband can be quite hellish. It all starts to go wrong when a secret admirer shows up.

The Seamstress ✨️

Prince Aemond is your favorite client.

We light the way

House Hightower does not have dragons, but they have a magic of their own.

No masters or kings🪆

Aemond has issues around sex. The thought of being married to you, an angel, it's not helping.

Unforgivable

Aemond and you are tired of being pawns. Instead of chess, you decide to play draughts.

Young Gods 🪆

History has a way of repeating itself. Ft. Hades! Aemond.

A Challenge

In which you are in a search for identity, and Aemond is in search for a way to prove his superiority to your father. Somehow, both of you find each other.

Daemon Targaryen

Oneshots

Honesty✨️

Daemon seduces his unwilling Lady Wife.

Mirror

Courting. Daemon's version.

Capital

You think you married the plainest woman on earth, and you look away for one second and suddenly she is not. Typical. At least, for Daemon.

A Thousand Words ✨️

You want to marry him. He wants to fuck you. The two things are not as incompatible as they sound. 

Violent delights 🪆

As a dornish princess, you live by one saying. All is fair in love and war. When Prince Daemon stumbles into your life, you start to reconsider your stance.

Lookalike

Inside the highest tower of the Red Keep, lives a girl with long silver hair...

Bestiary ✨️

Your husband and you do not speak the same language. During your wedding night, you find out that High Valyrian and the Common Tongue pale when compared to the way your bodies allow you to communicate.

Vūjigon ✨️

Companion piece to Bestiary. Daemon has been having sex without love his whole life. It's easy. Marriage should be more of the same, right?

The dragon has three heads ✨️

It's Viserys first day as a King. You and your twin see him off.

You wouldn't believe the things I have done for her ✨️

Daemon lives a dangerous life. You wish you could find a way to protect him, but you are too afraid of guns. Lucky you, Daemon has a plan.

Gold rush ✨️

Your whole life you have been Daemon’s voice of reason. Tonight, you choose to be the impulsive one. 

To conquer

Incest is common amongst Targaryens, Daemon assures you. Unfortunately, Alicent got to you first.

The girl with the pearl necklace ✨️

You marry Daemon to secure an alliance. But surprisingly, you find a haven in him.

Two ships

Two people who do not understand each other, but keep coming back together. Familiar much? It’s the tale you share with your brother, Daemon.

Clad in sea

It is not Harrenhal, what drives Daemon to the Gods Eye. It’s the memories of you and your daughter.

Miniseries

Little lamb✨️

After the death of Viserys Targaryen, CEO of Targaryen industries, his heirs get into a legal battle over the validity of the will. It's a terrible time to start fucking your sister's brother in law. So of course, you do just that.

Divine intuition ✨️🪆

My take on modern reader meets Daemon

Threads of Fate

Pyrite✨️

A nefarious plot to place Princess Rhaenys on the Iron Throne leaves you, a handmaid, as the sole witnesses. Deciding to save an innocent life, you find yourself an unlikely protector. But Prince Daemon does not make favors lightly.

Helaena Targaryen

Golden Chains✨️

Helaena isn't yours, but you are always hers

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Oneshots

Baby teeth

Cousins. You love them or you hate them. And Rhaenyra knows exactly how she feels about you.

Three-headed dragon ✨️

Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Doom of Ghis✨️

You decide to trick a Queen. It doesn't go quite according to plan.

Threads of Fate

Viserys Targaryen (Yuck)

The dragon has three heads ✨️

It's Viserys first day as a King. You and your twin see him off.

Useful writing things - Episodes.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

four

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Masterlist <-previous , next->

108 AC Red Keep, King's Landing

Silence fell between siblings, y/n stared wide eyed at Viserys as he told her of his plans to marry Rhaenyra's companion, Alicent Hightower. Building the structure of old Valyria was abandoned.

"No." The daughter of Baelon the brave said coldly.

"No?" Her brother asked confused. 

"No." She repeated. "You will not marry that girl."

"I have decid-" His grace countered but was interrupted by his younger sister.

"Choose someone else." y/n demanded resuming her previous activity. 

"Why not her?" He insisted staring at the red-eyed girl.

"She is a Hightower, a house that protects and upholds the faith of the seven. We are Targaryen's we follow the fourteen flames, her father is a second son so her dowry would be insufficient. She is your daughters confidante, this marriage will break Rhaenyra." y/n explained without looking at her brother. "Choose someone else."

"Who would you have me choose?" His Grace asked annoyed. 

"A bride of Valyrian descent, perhaps a Lyseni noble woman. Or a Celtigar, maybe a Baratheon." She proposed painting a tower. "If you marry Alicent and have a son, your hand will want to make him King not Rhaenyra."

"Otto would't undermine my decision to make Rhaenyra my heir." Viserys countered

"Viserys, be serious. That man will do anything to gain power, he knows Rhaenyra holds no love for him and when she becomes Queen he will have no place in her court." 

"Otto supported and proposed the decision to make Rhaenyra heir during a small council meeting." He countered

"But that is not because he wants Rhaenyra to be Queen, he wanted remove Daemon as a possible heir." y/n stated. "He is too proud to be a loyal servant to the crown."

"Otto has been a loyal and unwavering hand."

"Orys Baratheon was a loyal and unwavering hand, Daemon Velaryon was an amiable hand, Ryam Redwyne was loyal and so was father but Otto? No."

...

"I intend to marry, the Lady Alicent Hightower." Viserys spoke during the small council meeting. y/n sighed deeply swirling the bronze orb that belonged to her as the mistress of whisperers. Corlys was outraged, Rhaenyra betrayed, Otto victorious and Viserys was a fool. 

Soon the small council began to leave the chamber, Corlys and Rhaenyra were the first to leave. y/n sat in her seat staring at Otto, she cleared her throat and stood up smoothing her dress.

"Lord Hightower, I am sure you are happy with your little victory." y/n began staring at the tall, elderly man. "My brother is a fool to not notice your schemes but be certain I do. Your daughter may become Queen and have children with the King but be certain they will be raised far away from you and your plots. I will personally see to that." Otto chuckled.

"You may claim to do so as you wish princess, but soon you will wed and travel to Dorne with no influence in court." The Hightower recounted, the princess only smiled.

"You're a fool to believe that power resides with a person... I will leave you with that Lord Hand. Rest well." y/n said and left the small council chamber.

...

110 AC Red Keep, King's Landing

Viserys's greatest dream came true, Alicent delivered a healthy son just nine month after their wedding. But not all was well. The war in the stepstones has been raging for over two years, the sea snake along with the rogue prince have been losing against the triarchy. The court however did not concern themselves with the crab feeder, preferring to celebrate the second name day of Prince Aegon.    

“y/n?” Rhaenyra asked peering over her aunt’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” The red-eyed girl muttered, her eyes focused on the heavy book before her.

“Might I join you?” She questioned not waiting for permission, leaning on the great weirwood tree. The delicate strums of Samwell’s baliset brought the two princesses’ comfort in this tiring day. 

“Your grace.” The bard stood up quickly bowing before the Hightower Queen.

“Did I order you to stop?” Rhaenyra asked annoyed, her head on the princess’s shoulder. 

“Samwell go.” Alicent ordered, her voice confident so different from her usual shy demeanor. 

“You are to stay by the order of your princess.” y/n hid a smirk turning over another page. She heard the retreating footsteps of the player and sighed deeply, Rhaenyra and Alicent two former friends exchanged sad words. Rhaenyra's anger was justified, her father and dearest friend betrayed her. 

“Let us leave Rhaenyra, the carriages will not wait for our tardiness.” y/n mused standing up taking Rhaenyra by her hand and brushing past Alicent.

...

y/n sighed sipping the red wine, glancing at the ladies of the court. Alicent pregnant with her second child sat next to you, engaged in some boring conversation with lady Redwyne. She glanced seeing her brother drown himself in cups of wine.

“Excuse me, my Queen.” She said leaving the suffocating company she was ordered to stay with. The black and bronze leather attire y/n wore moved gracefully with her movements. Walking to Viserys she glanced at the servant next to him.

“Bring a chair.” She ordered, the heels of her shoes thudded against the carpeted stairs. The servant placed a heavy woodened chair on the left of his grace, she nodded thankfully dismissing the boy. “Viserys.” The king sluggishly glanced his siblings way.

“What is it sister?” He asked, his words slurred due to over indulgence in wine. 

“I have come to see how you are.” she answered, her brother laughed, pouring himself another goblet.

“My daughter avoids me like a plague, the court bothers me with possible matches for her. I cannot celebrate my son’s second name day in peace!” He raised his voice glancing at the lord and ladies before him. y/n took his gloved hand circling her thumb on his palm. 

“Perhaps you should let Rhaenyra choose her own match?” She proposed, Viserys nodded and smiled gently.

“Perhaps you are right. You know her best after all... y/n you are seven and ten, maybe if you married first Rhaenyra would follow." Viserys said.

"Grandsire has wanted me to marry Qoren since I was small." She mumbled thinking of the dark haired boy she has met years ago.

After retiring to Dorne, Qoren's mother princess Mara died of an illness. At just four and ten he became the prince of Dorne. His duties kept him in Sunspear, despite the many years apart you often wrote to each other and the feeling you have once held for him didn't disappear.

"Do you want to marry him?" Viserys questioned and you nodded.

"I do. When we were children we promised each other that we would marry."

"In nine years much can change." Viserys answered.

"To break this engagement would jeopardize our very fragile relationship with the south." His grace hummed and gulped the wine.

"It is settled then, I shall send word to Dorne that it is high time you married."

"Let me break the news to Rhaenyra first, if she hears that you are forcing me away from her side she will hate you even more."

Viserys chuckled sadly and nodded.

"How is it that my daughter despises the thought of marriage but you accept and yearn for it?" Your brother asked.

"I have always known I would have to marry... and grandsire wished to see me happy. I met Qoren and I have fallen for him but it seems the gods did not want us to be together for long."

"I want you to be content, happy even. If marrying the Prince will make you so I see no reason to refrain." Her eyes widened slightly and a warm smile appeared on her lips.

"I would like that." She said and pressed a kiss to Viserys's cheek.

t/n sighed leaning into her chair, she observed curiously as the court whispered and laughed among themselves. Seeing many of her spiders mingle with the rest of the nobles.

“Where is Aegon?" y/n questioned wanting to see her nephew, Viserys shrugged in response. She ordered one of the maids to lead the way to the young prince.

The little boy only two, played alone with his wooden dragons, a gift for his nameday. y/n nodded at the maids stationed to take care of him to leave. 

“Aegon?” The little boy glanced up, his violet eyes widening and a wide smile appearing on his chubby face.

“y/n!” He exclaimed running towards her, chuckling she picked him up into her arms. Despite the indifference Rhaenyra held for her little brother y/n took kindly to Aegon. After all he was her nephew.

“Do you want to go on a horse ride with me?” She questioned petting Aegon’s silver locks. He nodded eagerly bouncing in her arms.

“Where is father?” Aegon questioned, he played with the reigns of your horse sitting in front of her. 

“Your father is very busy as a King he has many responsibilities.” She answered, Viserys was not a good father nonetheless she didn't want to poison his own son against him. Aegon stayed quiet for most of the ride leaning into his aunt's body. “Perhaps I shall take you with me to Dorne.” She proposed and the Prince nodded happily.

"y/n with me!" The princeling demanded, a chuckle left his aunt's lips.

"Yes Aegon, you'll be with me. We will fly together, eat fruit and play, yes?" She questioned.

"Yes!" He exclaimed happily hugging his aunt.

...

Letters were exchanged between his Grace King Viserys and Prince Qoren discussing the arrangement, and soon the realm awaited the wedding of Princess y/n Targaryen and Prince Qoren Martell.

Rhaenyra begrudgingly accepted the news of her aunt's impending marriage, but the realm's delight still refused to marry. Rhaenyra agreed to search for a husband though it took Viserys's threat of removing her status as heir to the Iron Throne to convince her. Rhaenyra along with her aunt and half brother toured the seven kingdoms. The last royal procession was held by Jaehaerys and his sister wife Alysanne. In that way Rhaenyra reminded the realm of the rightful heir as well as scour for possible consorts as her father ordered.

y/n held Aegon in her lap as Rhaenyra interviewed possible matches. She noted down in her journal all the men who have asked for an audience with the princess, giggling to herself as Rhaenyra shooed them away with clever insults.

“The princess has a dragon you dumb cunt!” One of the contenders mocked the Blackwood boy, the two princesses snorted as the crows laughed. The mood has turned sour once the two nobles decided to bring out their swords, deciding it was time to go Rhaenyra her aunt and half-brother left in boredom. 

Rhaenyra approached her aunt after talking with her sworn shield. 

“Do you think father will be mad that I ended the tour two moons early?” The heir jested leaning on the railing of the ship taking them back to King’s landing. y/n chuckled leaning on the princess’s shoulder. 

“I think he will be delighted to see you.” She mused, her brows furrow hearing the flapping of wings above the ship. The crew looked up searching for the culprit. Soon the ship has been swayed by Caraxes’s wings, Daemon atop the blood wyrm. y/n grasped Rhaenyra’s hand aiming to balance herself from the swaying of the boat.

...

y/n watched curiously as her half-brother strode proudly through the great hall. A wooden crown atop his short silver hair, black sister sheathed atop his hip. Viserys dressed in royal attire sat at the iron throne, the crown once worn by King Jaehaerys atop his own head. 

Daemon stopped at the stairs leading to the throne, glancing at the king’s guard pointing their own weapons at Daemon’s chest. A smirk painted on his lips; he threw the sword of his fallen enemy at Viserys’s feet. 

“Add it to the throne, your grace.” He mused a smile appearing on your own lips. Two brothers happily reunited after almost three years. The court applauded the reconciliation of Baelon's sons. y/n quietly retreated to her chambers preparing for the feast Viserys was going to throw in honor of their brother returning. 

“What do you think I should wear?” Rhaenyra turned around; her body covered with a thin linen shirt. y/n glanced at the two dresses that were held by the maids.

“The golden one.” She mused sinking her teeth in the sweet fig, already dressed in a pale violet dress embedded with gold dragons. “You'll look beautiful in it.”

“All right then, can you help me braid my hair?” y/n nodded and stood from the comfortable armchair, skillfully braided her hair. She hummed an old Valyrian nursery rhyme as she worked on Rhaenyra’s silver hair. 

The princess hummed leaning into her touch as she kissed the crown of her head. Together the two walked to the godswood where the fest was being held. y/n was excited to see Daemon after all of those years. 

“Mandia” Daemon whispered, y/n smiled as she saw her half-brother. After reminiscing with his brother and exchanging pleasantries with the guests attending, he walked towards the table covered in various dishes. (Sister)

“Lēkia” y/n answered taking a sip from the golden goblet in her hands. “Aōha ōghar… Nyke ȳdra daor hae ziry.” She mused staring at his short silver hair, not the only thing that changed about your brother. (Brother/ Your hair…I don’t like it.)

“Iksan sīr mundagon naejot rȳbagon bona” Daemon laughed taking a seat next to his sister. (I am so sad to hear that)

"Eman jeldan naejot ūndegon ao syt sīr bōsa" Baelon's youngest son muttered after a moment of silence (I have longed to see you for so long)

"Lo konir sagon drēje pār ao would daor vīlībagon isse iā vīlībāzma" y/n mused playing with the golden rings on her fingers. Daemon snorted and nodded, the siblings watched as the court mingled with each other. The almost picturesque moment was interrupted by Alicent's son running toward his aunt and uncle. Aegon laughed as y/n smiled and picked the boy up. Daemon watched with disdain in his eyes as his sister smiled at the little tower. (If that is true then you would not fight in a war.)

"Gaomagon daor jurnegon rȳ zirȳ hae bona" y/n said sternly placing Aegon in her lap. (Do not look at him like that)

"Issi se trēsi hen bona kasta līve" He spoke venom dripping from his lips. (He is the son of that green whore)

y/n gaze hardened at the obvious hatred Daemon held for the innocent child, it is not Aegon's fault that their mother is Alicent.

"Issi riñar, pōnta gōntan daor iderēbagon syt zirȳla naejot sagon pōja muña" she hissed "Kesrio syt nyke jurnegon tolī zirȳ Alicent se zirȳla kepa emagon daor ōregon toliot zirȳ" (He is a child, he did not choose for her to be his mother/ Because I look after them Alicent and her father have no hold over them.)

Daemon hummed in approval accepting his sister's fondness over the little tower. 

"You will make a great mother." Daemon said as he stared fondly at his sister.

"I think I will become a mother sooner or later..." She mused leaning against her brothers shoulder.

"How so?" He asked

"I am too marry, Daemon. In a month or two Qoren will arrive and we will wed." y/n told her brother. She could feel Daemon's muscles tense, a scowl appeared on his features. "Do not fret brother, you may visit me to your hearts content." She chuckled.

...

Princess y/n along with the crowned heir Princess Rhaenyra and her half brother Prince Aegon toured the seven kingdoms. The last royal progress was held almost fifty years ago during the reign of King Jaehaerys I. The crown agreed to the excursion thanks to the princesses y/n input she convinced the small council of the benefits that would aid the realm. In the same year prince Daemon Targaryen returned to court after three years of war in the stepstones. Despite the aversion the court held towards the rogue prince, princess y/n enjoyed her half-brothers presence. Many saw them take strolls throughout Rhaenys's gardens and fly on dragon back together.- From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

[lilspooky-doll]

True Happiness — pt. 1

pairing — Aegon II Targaryen x Handmaid! Reader

summary — All Prince Aegon wanted growing up with the parents he had was to experience true happiness; not happiness from drinking, not happiness from inflicting insults against others but real happiness you can only experience with someone you feel deeply for. Even at a very early age, he believed he was going to end up drunk and worse than his absentee father until she came along to clean up the pieces.

themes — fluff, aegon is a soft boi, language, blood descriptions, alicent using others to fix her problems, brat! aegon, au! aegon, au! house of the dragon, female! reader, clingy! aegon

author’s note — here’s part 1 of True Happiness. i had to split it into two separate parts. this part is more of the starts of their relationship and part two is more of the “adult” parts. there will probably be ‘themes’ / warnings the next part as well so please be on the lookout for those. please enjoy!

ñuha hūra - my moon

ñuha jorrāelagon - my love

part 2

Looking through the shine of a blazing sun, the Red Keep was a marvelous stronghold that housed Kings and Queens of old, experienced the biggest feasts throughout the Seven Kingdoms and protects the very rulers of said Kingdoms. From the outside looking in, it seemed to be a peaceful day with the usual commotion that the royals and the Council lived in. However, this day was anything but normal.

In the dead of the night previously, the great King Viserys had finally greeted the Stranger leaving only his dear second wife, Alicent Hightower, the witness to such a tragedy. With the King gone from this world, the plans set in place by the Hand and his daughter would get to see the light of day and be pursued wholeheartedly — the plan of usurping the eldest of Viserys’ children from her throne and fitting the eldest son to the Iron Throne. Now upon discovery, There’s only one fatal flaw in this plan. Aegon has seemed to have just vanished, almost as if he never even existed with those hallowed walls.

Searching high and low, through the streets of Kings Landing and even down in Flea Bottom, not a single living soul has seen the prince in almost two full sun rotations. His chambers were tidy but empty of a few worldly possessions and some very homely clothes he had requested be made months ago. This abrupt vanishing had caused the Hand to fervently badger his child for answers as if she would know where he went.

“Father, the Cargyll twins and Aemond have been searching for him since we first discovered his chambers empty of him in the early hours.” Alicent flinched as Otto violently twisted his body in the middle of pacing to make eye contact with her.

“If he is gone, all I have done will be for nothing! Do you understand that? Everything will fall and that whore of a Targaryen will be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms!” Otto screamed into the flush face of the now widow seemingly blaming her for the faults of her eldest.

Stepping back a tad bit, Alicent placed some space between them before trying to look back up at the anger beaming down at her. “Well… Why not fit Aemond for the crown? He’s much more adept and would be a much more reliable King than Aegon would.”

The mere suggestion of Aemond caused the cogs in the Hand’s mind to rapidly turn as he began to place the second son in the spots where Aegon originally fit into his scheme. Slowly, a devious smirk stretched the aging wrinkles on his face as it appeared the prince’s disappearance brought a blessing down from the Seven that albeit was going to be much more successful in Otto’s dark eyes.

“Have Aemond fetched and brought back. I believe we have a more perfect opportunity in seeing the second son be the King.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Life at the moment seemed impossible to the Queen. While handling the Council with her father, the Hand of the King and her ailing husband, her eldest son has apparently made it his purpose to deal with his problems. At ten name days old, Aegon has been through at most three handmaiden— each leaving the staff of the Red Keep due to his… antics. Every woman has reported back to her stating that he was the most arrogant brat who had it out for anyone who wouldn’t bring his mother to him.

Granted, Alicent could be blamed for his behavior as she has actively avoided personally handling her son — only seeing him as the end of her friendship with Princess Rhaenyra and the end of her girlhood. On a deep down level, she resented Aegon for what he represented in her eyes since she was only just a pawn in her father’s sick, twisted game. But, she wasn’t the only one to be blamed for why he sought so much attention so often. Viserys had a hand in all of this being that after his second name day, he has refused to acknowledge her boy as the heir to the Iron Throne and has gone to even ignore all of his children outright.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, was all Alicent chanted in her head as she sat in her solar waiting for Ser Criston to arrive with what she deemed her last ditch effort. Picking at the skin around her nails, the waiting made her anxious. She felt guilty for what she was about to do but, she’s at her wits end with Aegon and she hoped that this person would save everyone’s sanity.

A knock disrupted Alicent’s incessant thoughts as she bolted her head to watch Ser Criston open the door and made room for her so-called ‘saving grace’ to walk through. A girl of about two and ten shuffled through between the guard and the door keeping her eyes down at her feet. Once the girl made her way through, she dipped into a curtsy and muttered out a quiet Your Majesty.

Brushing off the imaginary dust on her emerald green gown, the Queen stood up from her seat on her cushioned bench and gracefully walked to set herself in front of the girl. She examined the young child making note of her neat hair that was braided away from her face and the typical clothes that most of the maids wore in the keep: a plain brown dress covered by a sullied white apron.

“Some of the maids tell me that any coin that you have made is sent to your family. Is that correct in their assumptions?” Alicent questioned using her hand to gently guide the girl’s chin forcing her to make eye contact.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she whispered out hoping that was the answer the Hightower woman was looking for.

“Good. I will be upping the amount of coin you receive but, you will only receive the extra amount as long as you stay on as Prince Aegon’s personal handmaiden. If you leave your duties as such, the extra coin will be revoked. Am I understood?”

A sick feeling of satisfaction filled Alicent’s belly as the young girl nodded and whispered out her affirmation. With a pat on the head, Alicent signaled for Ser Criston to lead the girl to Aegon’s chambers hoping that this all works out in a positive way, not ending in another maid gone from the keep to be replaced.

━━━━

Pitying looks could be seen from every servant that passed by the guard and young maid duo as if they all knew what her fate was. They all made it seem like she was on her way to the executioner, not to the prince’s chambers. Even with all the looks, it didn’t settle the feeling in her chest, the closer that Ser Criston guided her through the hallways to his room.

She’s heard all of the rumors from the other women and girls she worked with. She heard that the prince played nasty pranks, spoke in vulgar ways to disturb the maid or just flat out made their job living Hells. It was suspected that he did all of this as a way for the maids to report what he’s done to his mother, the Queen in hopes she would personally come to see him. Behaving like that just to receive some sort of attention from a parent seemed like a very sad way to live and no matter what kind of wealth they had, feeling loved was better than any riches a person could have.

As they rounded the last corner before the hall that led to the eldest prince’s chambers, all that could be heard was the muffled yells of an enraged child accompanied by the splintering of wood against the stones. A shaky breath expelled from your lips in an attempt to calm her down. Even though this became a less than ideal position to have in the Red Keep, all she knew was that the extra coin you would receive would go a long way to help out her family. She’s doing this for them, to make sure they have everything they need even if this could all end badly.

Nearing closer and closer, the racket became more and more clear making her more and more nervous. Now was not the time to let emotions control her; time to regulate and wipe any traces of whatever it was she was feeling off of her face. Getting up close to the door, she began to realize that the behavior her young self was going to deal with was destructive.

Just as they reached the door, Ser Criston knocked on the chamber door breaking the noise into silence. After a moment had passed, the knight opened the way and revealed the scene to them. There he was — young Prince Aegon — arms frozen in mid air holding what looked like a splintered wooden chair leg and surrounding him were the remains of said chair, shattered by the stone that made up the structure of the room.

Shocked to be interrupted, Aegon quickly composed himself brushing his silvery blond hair away from his eyes before he decided to lay into his mother’s knight.

“Where is she? Is she coming to finally speak with me?” Aegon pressed Ser Criston, his voice slowly rising in octave and cracking with emotions. “Why is she refusing to see me? I JUST WANT MY MOTHER!”

These were the ramblings of a child desiring affection from someone— or rather someones —who could not spare them any care or love. It was very evident to every soul living within these walls that the King cared for no other child than his eldest, Princess Rhaenyra regardless of how he behaved during Aegon’s first years as only child to his mother. Moreso, it was very subtle but it was becoming more obvious as the prince grew older that the Queen preferred her other children to him.

Unperturbed by the outburst, Ser Criston cleared his throat before speaking, “Her Majesty has assigned a new handmaiden to you. She kindly requests for you to be more pleasant with this one.”

Red began to seep into the pores of his pale face at the knight’s declaration. How could his mother make such a demand through the guards when she so blatantly avoids seeing him at all costs. If she could just visit him on good terms once, Aegon would stop it all; the pranks, the vicious words, Hells even the drinking that he was beginning to indulge in more.

“I don’t care what my mother wishes for me to do. I do not need a handmaiden, let alone a new one to replace the others. I wish for my mother, the Queen. Why won’t she come to visit me?” argued the Prince hoping to receive some kind of message from his mother that meant she wanted to actually be around him for once.

Using his argument as the prompt to leave, Ser Criston turned around, patted the young maid’s head before dismissing himself from the chambers. An uncomfortable silence filled the air as the maid stood at the door with her eyeline directed towards the ground and the prince’s violet eyes stared her down. There was a burning sensation alight on her exposed neck like the prince’s glare was burning through her head and down her spine.

Knowing her place, she never looked up towards his face. She knew that making eye contact with a royal or anyone of status would incur their wrath and they would punish the worker how they see fit. That was something that she would never do unless she was ordered to do so. Just feeling the prince’s stare on her was enough to break down her composure but now was not a time to be afraid; she needed to be composed and do her job.

With a straightened posture and a deep breath, she began to move towards the mess as carefully as possible. Anyone looking in on the situation would think she was approaching a skittish animal not the eldest son to the King of the Seven Kingdoms. It was almost laughable being put into a situation like this and at the same time, it couldn’t have been more dire of a situation.

Slow in her approach, she brought herself to her knees and one by one, picked up the splinters of wood placing them within the linen of her apron. She was careful to make sure none of the wood sunk into the plush pads of her fingers and careful to not warrant any of Aegon’s wrath. Even with the tense situation, she remained as unbothered as she possibly could be and just did her duties as a personal handmaiden to the prince; keep his quarters tidy, keep his life simple and everything should go splendidly.

It was a little unsettling, watching the maid tidy up the mess piece by piece. Granted, it wasn’t abnormal for a maid to clean but it was when they provided an outright reaction to his behavior. Aegon has seen it all; the older ones would try to discipline him like he was the child and the younger ones had a habit of being too noisy. But, this one was the youngest one yet — well he could only assume — and she was not acting like how he expected she would. He was waiting for something— a snide remark, shifty eyes, twitchy fingers— just something that would allow him to scare her away like he did the rest.

Just watching her collecting the broken wood made something bubble in his belly. Aegon couldn’t place his finger on what that feeling was but, whatever it was, it was not a feeling he wanted to relish in. It was a change to the anger and deep sadness that he has been experiencing and he wanted to latch onto them, keeping them close to his chest. In his deep observation, the young royal began to backpedal away from the center of his room making his way towards his messy bed covered in his plush blankets and fluffy pillows.

Violet eyes stayed focused on the hunched figure in her dirty apron and plain maid’s dress. Each piece of splintered wood being collected was like a piece of his anger being neatly brought back to him in the form of something calmer. The process of focusing on her smooth hands working so carefully yet so diligently caused the boiling rage that exploded earlier to simmer down to an eerie calm; a calm that he feels that he only experiences when he’s blissfully asleep in his cozy bed.

The blazing sun of high noon reflected through the window onto the carpets of Aegon’s chambers decorating the floor in fractured iridescence. After being focused on her working form for so long, Aegon’s anger had calmed into a gentle stream of just peace. He doesn’t remember the last time where he hadn’t felt anger towards his treatment from his parents or sadness from only ever seeing his mother at supper time or even when she came to admonish him. It seemed like forever ago when his mother had begun to push him on maesters, the guards or Ser Criston Cole hoping for their teachings to rectify his bratty behavior.

“Your Grace, allow me to take a look at your hands,” a small voice broke Aegon’s deep seated concentration drawing his attention to her delicate face that was honed in on his clasped hands.

Without so much as a fight, the young boy dropped his hands into her outstretched ones. He could feel how soft they felt brushing over the lines and details of his; he wondered how they were so soft considering all the work he knows that the maids do in a day. Soft twists and turns with feather-light touches brushed against the contours searching for something that marred the skin of the royal.

“May I say something, Your Grace?” Yet another soft whisper answered by a noncommittal hmph before the young maid continued, “I hope I am not speaking out of turn but, whenever anger roams free, it could easily turn into wrath. Never allow your emotions to reach that point… Please try to find a way to redirect it by putting more focus into training. The Queen would be devastated if you allowed this anger to fester to the point where you harm yourself accidentally.”

With the end of her advice, she gently folded the prince’s hand back into his lap before she stood up resuming the position she had when she first came into the chambers. A curtsy to signify herself leaving, out she went with the broken pieces of Aegon’s anger and a scent of delicate flowers lingered in the air.

━━━━

Weeks have passed since the first encounter between the new handmaiden and the prince and Aegon has tried relentlessly to see if he could rattle her like he did the others. Every little prank, tantrum, cruel words and even the occasional childish attitude was being met with almost a deadpan expression and an unperturbed Your Grace before she would continue about her duties as his handmaiden.

Aegon’s breaking point came much sooner than he thought when she came to his chambers with his tray of food to break his fast in the ambience of the rising sun. As she filled his cup with fresh water, Aegon decided now was the time to see what her problem was; why she seemed so unaffected by his brutish ways when even some of the knights have cringed at his behavior.

“I have done every little thing that I possibly know to get some reaction out of you other than that dead look you seem to have on your face. Every other handmaid my mother has sent my way would’ve been gone by the second insult or the first prank I have played.” Aegon took a second to catch his breath in his ranting before he continued with, “Why are you still here?”

The trickle of water into the metal cup ceased as she placed the pitcher back onto the tray with the rest of the morning food. Taking a moment to collect herself before facing the prince, she breathed out a deep sigh at his words. Of course she should’ve been gone by now but, honestly, dealing with the foolish ways of the boy made her miss her brothers and the wild activities they would do. If anything, working with Aegon made her feel at home oddly enough. The money she was receiving from the Queen could definitely be a motivator for some people on holding their wits but, the handmaiden started to think that the money was starting to not be a main factor in her staying; she actually was beginning to enjoy the extent Prince Aegon would go to try to torment her.

“I’ll be honest with you, Your Grace. You remind me of home, of my brothers who would endlessly try to startle me or torment me in the ways you have. Yes, some of your words were hurtful but, I quite enjoy being your handmaiden. Dare I say, I am beginning to see you as a friend.” She stopped for a brief second looking up into the violet eyes trained on her. “In our short time together, I have come to believe that you are just a boy who is lonely, who longs for a companion that understands you. I wish I can be that for you, Your Grace.”

At her bold admission, Aegon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Someone wanted to be near him, to be a friend to him despite all of the awful things that he has done and said to his maid. His eyes began to blur the image of his… friend and waterfalls of tears streamed down his soft, pale cheeks. For once, someone willingly wanted to be close to him and it made the well of emotions in his body overflow. He was feeling too many emotions at once and it overwhelmed him a bit. Happiness at the admission of having someone on his side. Sadness at wondering why it took so long for anyone to see through the misery he often bestowed upon others. Angry that his mother’s plans for a maid almost as young as he is to fulfill any of his tasks had worked. The flooding of feeling had started to fill in the cracks of his broken self.

Without even a second thought, Aegon in his teary state threw his body at his handmaid’s form wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his streaked face into her shoulder. Startled by the physical contact the prince initiated, she was quick to wipe the look of shock from her face before replacing it with a gentle smile. Her woolen sleeve arms wrapped around the shaking form attached to hers pulling the broken prince tighter in their embrace. Soothing whispers were spoken into the silvery-blonde hair tickling her flush cheek. No response to her words needed to be spoken; Aegon’s reaction was proof enough that he appreciated his kind handmaiden.

━━━━

After that tear-filled day, it became common knowledge that between the two of them, they could depend on the other. His sweet handmaid began to switch out the ale and mead he was consuming increasingly throughout the days with water or flavorful teas that were much more beneficial to his health. Aegon was quick to pick up on the changes and was ever so grateful to have her at his side as a confidant and his closest – only – friend. He actively sought out to spend time with her in any way that he could whether it was having you mend torn clothes in the training yard when he was there or just peaceful strolls through the courtyard when he had time in his busy schedule.

In exchange, the Targaryen prince made sure she had plenty of newer clothes that fit her much more than the old maid dress she usually wore. If it was up to him, his maid would be wearing gowns as beautiful as his sister Helaena’s gowns but she stopped him before he could even give her one. On top of the new dresses and aprons, Aegon made sure that where she slept in the servant quarters was perfect and that there was nothing that could make her sick and unable to enjoy the fresh air with him. Sometimes, he would sneak extra coins into the letters she sent out making sure whoever received the letters would have all the extra money they needed. He even put aside a few gold dragons for her to spend on herself when needed.

It was obvious to the inhabitants of the Red Keep to the changes Viserys’ eldest son exuded. The change for the servants and the guards was a very welcomed one as they no longer had to hear the words the prince would hurtle at people and the pranks that brought misery to many unlucky participants. The council thought of the change as Prince Aegon had started to mature and was trying to prepare himself as heir to the Iron Throne. But, even though many thought of this change as a good thing brought upon them by the Seven, it was hard to ignore the rumors that were spreading.

Of course, many were witness to the first rumor: the prince was almost never seen without his dutiful handmaid walking beside him. Every person who had been witness to this sight could all testify to the fact that every time the prince and maid were caught together, the prince was animated in talking with her and the maid was listening to him with a soft smile etched into her face. Some people have rumored to see them holding hands during walks when the Keep was too busy to pay full attention to the boy of ten name days and the girl of two and ten.

Others whispered that there was something more nefarious going on between the maid and the prince but no one would lend their ear to hear such conspiratorial ramblings. Those odd few always sounded the same; the young girl is a witch and has come to steal away the Targaryen for whatever dark and evil deeds she needed. It was very strange for such a rumor to spread but in the end, it was gossip that kept the maids giggling and snickering every time she moved past them.

Although there were rumors that could damage their reputation, no one could deny how much happiness radiated off of the two of them.

━━━━━━━━━━━

For a two and ten name day celebration, it was tiny compared to his first two name day feasts but tiny meant that it would all be over fairly quickly without cutting into his evening schedule. Aegon was anxious to leave the hall and make his way to the Godswood where he knew that she would be waiting there for him.

The feast consisted of mainly his family, the council and any of their family that lived within the stone walls. It was very simple and that made Aegon happy; he didn’t need to have a giant name day feast like his half-sister Rhaenyra gets. Simple was enough for him now. No longer was he the young spoiled brat — even though he’s still very young. Now he’s changed for the better and he’s been enjoying the smaller things in life for the past two years.

After waiting for the perfect chance, his mother, Alicent, announces her leave from the feast giving Aegon the opening he needed to escape the hall. He wanted a few moments after she left the sight of everyone before he took his leave as well except he didn’t announce it like his mother — just a silent slip through the hall doors and out into the corridor. The large doors were shut without so much as a little click as it slid back into place. Once he was out of view of all the attendees, Aegon swiftly made his way through the corridors out into the breeze of the early evening air.

The cool breeze coming off of the sea made the rest of his walk more enjoyable as the prince continued on his way towards the Godswood. Leaves rustling in the gentle wind and light slaps of bird wings filled the air around the steps of Aegon’s boots against the soft natural ground. Soon came the sight he was so anxious to see. His lovely handmaid dressed in just a plain brown dress without her normal apron resting against the heart tree with a book in her lap. This was what made the boy most excited about today; spending time with her as she read aloud to them both and Aegon used the sturdier trees as practice dummies.

“I see that you have started without me, ñuha hūra,” Aegon’s words came out almost too cocky but she knew that he meant to be teasing in his statement. “What tales will we be learning tonight?”

A girlish chuckle left her lips at his responses. “They are not tales as they are more history. I thought it would be very fitting to learn about the first of your name, Aegon the Conqueror,” the girl of four and ten paused for a moment before she started back up again. “I’ve noticed that you have been calling me something other than my name. Will you ever tell me what it means?”

A sly smirk stretched itself across the planes of his pale face. “I don’t think I will. Guess you’ll just have to learn Valyrian to understand it.”

At his statement, the handmaid took his words as a challenge—determined to figure out what he has been calling her recently and to possibly be able to speak the royal language to surprise him. Shaking her head at his antics, she looked down at the book in her lap and pulled the cover off the pages to reveal the title page, The Life and Conquest of Aegon I Targaryen.

While his maid got herself ready to read aloud to the two of them, Aegon reached into the roots of the heart tree to pull out a wooden sword he had stolen from the training yard and positioned himself in front of a scrawny tree that was growing only a short distance away. He was far enough that if the sword or the tree splintered, the fragments wouldn’t be anywhere near her but he was close enough that he could clearly hear her angelic voice speak of bloody history.

Readying himself into the proper stance, Aegon began to slice away at the tree acting as if the tree was like one of the practice dummies used in the training yard, like the ones Ser Criston Cole is constantly making him and his brother work on for the hours they do training. Practicing twice a day like this was his way of getting better hoping one day he could surpass the skill of the kingsguard and of course, it was a bonus that during this time, it was uninterrupted moments of peacefulness with his maid — who he was beginning to think of as more than his closest friend.

With wacks and thuds, Aegon let the melodic sound of her voice and the repetition of the wood put his body into a trance. His mind drifted away to sweeter moments than this one where he would confess his feelings to his beautiful handmaid, where he could see a future outside of his royal duty, where he could be free from the scheming eye of his grandsire and live a life like the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. They were dreams that were so far out of reach, ones that would move further away just as he came close to reaching out to them but it never hurt to think of life being more fulfilling outside of the walls of the Red Keep.

From her distance, she had kept reading aloud the passages detailing the life of Aegon the Conqueror finding it all riveting and oh so captivating that Aegon’s form started to blur out of focus from the rim of her peripheral. She was fascinated and consumed that the present Aegon would have to live up to such high standards for his name. It caused a seed of worry to plant itself in her chest just thinking that Aegon had more on his platter purely because he was second of his name and the first was the one to unite the kingdoms. Being so enthralled with this piece of history and her worry, she failed to notice the difference in Aegon’s form; his eyes zoned out and his form was atrocious at best. It appeared that the both of them had the same dazed look in their eyes as their minds drifted away from this reality.

“Ah, fuck!!” A loud curse and the sounds of something shattering broke the dazed states of the young duo. Startled by the noises, she broke her attention from the aged pages and bolted up from her seat rushing over to the prince’s hunched form.

“My prince! What has happened?” she questioned rotating her body to be face to face with him. All she could see was the top of his silver head and his arms tucked into his body.

Looking around, her eyes laid upon the broken practice sword lifeless against the soft, grassy surface. Turning her attention back to Aegon, she gently pushed on his shoulder to reveal his face red with pain and his right hand protectively covered by his left keeping it close to his chest.

“Let me have a look, my prince,” she stated slightly tugging on his hands in hopes for him to reveal the problem.

He resisted shaking his head and clutching his hands tighter against himself. Gritting his teeth in pain and using his hair as a shield, he was hoping she would just leave him alone so he could recollect himself and make himself out to be a man in front of her. Gods forbid if she thought of him as anything other than a man — even though he was in the early stages of changing into one.

The pain was consistent in the deep scratch of his dominant hand after his sword — a pathetic excuse for one — had snapped under his sloppy tactics. So distracted in his painful misery, he couldn’t see that her delicate hands made their way towards his face cupping his flushed cheeks. With her hands lightly clasped around his face, she pulled his head up from his chest and forced him to meet her eye.

Violet eyes met the twinkling stars that appeared to be her eyes. They captivated him on a deeper level like watching the sky light up at night when the moon is hiding out of sight. It was a deeper bond forming between them, a bond that differed greatly to his bond to his golden dragon, Sunfyre. This very moment was working its way to be a pivotal event in their lives and Aegon was doing all he could to soak up her attention and the feel of her hands on his face.

She carefully removed her left hand from his face and used it to remove the protective hold he had over his injured right hand. Pulling apart his calloused fingers exposed a deep gash pooling dark crimson blood around the angry flesh that’s riddled with splinters. The crimson hid the kind of red one would only see when flesh was marred past its original state. Just on looks alone, the wound had to have been painful and she knew that Aegon was trying to be strong about it despite the tears.

Gently and softly, she maneuvered his shaking body towards her previous seat of the heart tree making sure he kept his eyes on her and away from the wound. She helped lower Aegon to the nestling of roots making it comfortable for him as she positioned herself in front of him on her knees. Once she had him situated, she tore a strip of fabric from her underdress ripping it further into smaller pieces; one piece to clean and the other to wrap it until they could reach the Maesters.

“My apologies, my prince. I know this will hurt but only for a short while,” she spoke reassuring him as she placed the injured hand in her lap to pull the tiny splinters out before wrapping it up.

One by one, the pieces were removed being tossed to the soft grassy floor and with each removal, the young Targaryen hissed in pain as he only allowed himself to do that instead of tears.

“Not crying and holding in your pain does not make you a man. Crying shows that you have emotions and are more than capable of being compassionate to others. It releases energy that has been brewing over time.” Her words startled the boy causing him to reveal his unshed tears in his bright, wide eyes.

Wiping his face quickly with his free hand, he snarked, “And who had told you that? Hmm, ñuha hūra? I would presume it was your mother.”

“My father, actually. He would always remind my brothers that crying would never make them less of a man. It made them more of one because they weren’t afraid of being emotional and it helped release anything that was being kept locked away from within,” she retorted, continuing her work seeing as there were only a few wood pieces left before she needed to clear away the blood that kept pooling.

Aegon paused at her words before he sputtered out, “So, you would still see me as a man even if I cried in front of you? You won’t want to be rid of me?”

A giggle broke the delicate planes of her face quickly being replaced by a smile. “Why would I rid you? I feel like you have forgotten that you have cried in my presence quite a few times already, Aegon. You are just a boy in many people's eyes but to me, you are more of a man than some of the men that sit on the Council!”

“Could you say that again?” Lavender fields gazed into starry skies at her words.

“Say what again, my prince? That you’re a man..”

“No, my name. Say my name again. I beg of you.”

Stunned by his declaration, a sigh escaped her lips before she whispered out, “Aegon.”

No longer focused on the pain, Aegon could feel his heart soar like it was flying through the skies and bursting through the clouds. His true companion in life sounded so delectable saying his name. It was an almost tangible taste in his mouth just from her calling his name like that. Of course, the way she initially said it was in every form, an innocent and friendly way but, he’s a growing boy who was beginning to feel the effects of his body turning him into a man. His name was like a drug that now he had a taste of it, he is going to want it always.

A sweet smile contrasted the redness in the whites of his eyes as he gazed at her. “From this day forth, I want you to call me by my name. It’s so lovely coming from you, unlike from everyone else.”

“As you wish, my prince Aegon,” she answered him, causing his heart to soar yet again.

They continued to gaze into each other’s eyes like the sunny day shining down on fields of lavender petals and the stars twinkling in the inky darkness of the night. They both felt a bundle of warmth unfurling in their chests accompanied by the feeling of pure happiness. Being together in this moment made them feel as if they were the only people in all of Westeros and absolutely nothing would tear them apart from one another. In that moment, the friendly love they both shared was blossoming into a love that Aegon was beginning to feel for his beautiful handmaid, a love that she would soon share with him.

Blinking away their locked gaze, a subtle blush graced her cheeks as she brought her focus back down to the wound. She scanned his hand one last time making sure she removed all the splinters that she could find and began to gently gather the deep blood with half of the torn underdress strip. The starch white of the underdress absorbs the sanguine fluid transforming the fabric into its deep seated color. Fully saturated, she removed the cloth, putting it into the pocket of her plain dress and using the other piece to wrap up the exposed injury.

Finished with her work, she sighed out, “Well, we shall make our way to the Maesters for them to fully take care of the wound.”

She stood up from their spot and brushed off the dirt and grass that had accumulated at her knees. Looking at the prince, she could see a dazed look in his eyes and a soft smile that she has only seen him use when she was around — she’s seen peaks of a different yet similar smile when he would listen to Helaena’s bug-related monologues.

Aegon, still dazed and heart thumping hard in his chest, gracefully removes himself from the tree roots standing opposite to her as she lowered herself down again to grab the history book from its nest in the greenery of the floor. Waiting for her to straighten herself out, he held his uninjured hand out for her to interlock their fingers when she was ready to. Even with the wound throbbing in his right hand, all he could focus on was the beauty next to him. The way her hair flowed over her shoulders when she took out the braids she put in it everyday, the light flush that would mark her cheeks when she laughed too hard, or the touch of her soft hands that seemed to stay in its delicate state regardless of the hard work she did.

Interlocking their hands, Aegon refocused his sight on the current situation at hand and started back to the castle slowly making their way back to where one of the Maesters under Grand Maester Mellos could help.

“I do hope you know where we are going, ñuha jorrāelagon. I would hate for us to be lost so late in the evening.”

“Of course, I know where we are going. It’s just a lovely evening to take a slow stroll towards that way, Aegon.” A bright grin filled the lines of her face at her prince’s remark. “And don’t think I won’t figure out what you have been saying to me in High Valyrian. One day, I’ll figure it out.”

In that moment, Aegon was convinced and determined that his amazingly beautiful handmaid would be the only one for him — in life and in death.

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[novaursa]

Gwayne Hightower Masterlist

main list

- A Rose in Oldtown - Gwayne steals a rose and allows it to grow strong in Oldtown. - mature 16+

- The Crimson Sky - When Gwayne was ordered to go to Rook’s Rest, you followed him. - explicit 18

- Down by the River - After a forgotten betrothal with Aemond, you found love and comfort in your uncle's arms. - explicit 18+

- In Defiance of a Dragon - When your uncle, King Viserys, promised your hand to Gwayne, your father was least pleased about it. - explicit 18+

- Of Gods and Blood - Your mother, Alicent, sent you to Oldtown, to protect you from Rhaeyra's whims. Only for you to find comfort in your uncle’s arms. - explicit 18+

- A House Divided - During a tourney your father organized for the birth of his heir, your heart found a flame in Ser Gwayne Hightower. - mature 16+

- A Flame in Exile - Your mother and grandsire have sent you away to Oldtown. You were too unruly like your uncle Daemon, they said. But Gwayne never shied away from fire. - mature 16+

- The Wild Heart - You introduce Gwayne to your dragon, Grey Ghost. - mild 13+

- The Big Bad Wolf of Duskendale - You and Gwayne tell your children a bedtime story about the dragon princess and her knight. - mild 13+

- Divided Banners - When the Dance came you picked your half-sister. And now you have to face a price for choices made. - mature 16+

- The Kiss of the Hightower - On your way to the capital, you and your uncle had other intentions than observing the road. - explicit 18+

- Behind the Chamber Door - Ser Criston was appointed to guard you by your sister, Queen Alicent herself. He overhears something that makes him confront both you and his heart’s desire. - mature 16+

Works (targ!reader/Gwayne Hightower) below are listed in chronological order:

- Echoes of a Promise - When Prince Daemon Targaryen challenged Ser Gwayne Hightower during the tourney, that King Viserys I orginazed for birth of his heir, it was not just to humiliate and spite Otto. It was because of you. - explicit 18+

- Chains of the Crown - Gwayne promised to marry you. A promise he couldn't keep. - explicit 18+

- Between the Flames (1) - You and Gwayne see each other after years of separation, as King Viserys I organizes a hunt for his son's nameday. But time is a cruel mistress. - mature 16+

- Between the Flames (2) - Gwayne and you rekindle your flame as a celebratory hunt proceeds. - explicit 18+

- Skyfall - Baela and you chase after Cole and his men. You fall from the sky straight into Gwayne's arms. Literally. - explicit 18+

- The Flames We Carry - Ser Criston Cole expected for Rhaenys and Meleys to appear over Rook's Rest. To Gwayne's horror, Rhaenyra sent her sister instead: you. - mature 16+

- Where Banners Fall - After your fall at Rook’s Rest, Gwayne takes you to safety and some hidden things come to light. - mild 13+

- The Blood We Choose - Gwayne brings you to Dragonstone, to your sister. But it is Daemon who awaits you both. - mild 13+

- The Flames We Share - You tell your son the truth. He has more than the blood of dragons in his veins. - mild 13+

- The Chains We Break - Otto Hightower comes to negotiate the release of his son. Daemon does not humor him. But you and your sister are dragons as well, who answer to neither gods or men. - mild 13+

- Where Honor Burns - After the tragedy Above the God's Eye, you decided to go to King's Landing, in hope to prevent more bloodshed. Even if it means your death. - explicit 18+

- The Cost of Fire - The conclusion of the Dance. Where Gwayne and the reader married under watchful eyes of the Seven. - explicit 18+

[theredqueenandthebloodwyrm]

Major Spoilers for HOTD S2 Ep3

Mostly just my thoughts while watching (live blogging?). Mostly me yelling at my screen.

“Your False Queen Rhaenyra is a Kinslayer!” Ugh and your False King’s brother is a Kinslayer! I need someone to call Aemond Kinslayer on screen now.

I love Jacaerys’ understandable anger, and getting a bit tired of Rhaenyra’s flittering between peace and war. Rhaenys is getting on my nerves so much with her bs. “Reason will be forgotten”, uh no it fucking will not? And no this war was not predestined when Luke took out Aemond’s eye, it was ensured when Aegon usurped Rhaenyra’s throne and then solidified when Aemond killed Lucerys (who was a peace envoy). “Alicent Hightower” is NOT the other way, she is not the way to peace?! Have you forgotten, Rhaenys, how Alicent insulted your own son on multiple occasions? Fuck you, Rhaenys, for saying Rhaenyra permitted Jaehaerys’ death when Rhaenyra said Alicent permitted Luke’s death. Because you know what? Alicent’s shitty mothering did permit her sons to act wantonly and without care, her constant excuses of her sons, even after Luke’s death she still found ways to lessen what Aemond did.

We’re setting up Seasmoke to be claimed which is nice.

I don’t understand this weird conflict between Rhaenyra and Rhaena that they’ve established. Rhaenyra’s plan is to send Joffrey to the Vale with his dragon for his safety. While she wants Rhaena to go with Aegon & Viserys to Pentos (except at first she said Aegon & Viserys would accompany Joffrey?). It makes no sense for Rhaenyra to tell Rhaena she needs to be a mother to the boys. Rhaena shares the same father with Aegon & Viserys (they’re her half-brothers), it’d make more sense for Rhaenyra to say “I need you to be a sister/ big sister to Aegon & Viserys, protect them and keep them safe like a dragon would.” Rhaenyra should have also emphasized that sending Rhaena away was for her SAFETY! Yes, not having a dragon doesn’t help her safety, but she’d be safer away from Dragonstone either way, and surely Rhaenyra would emphasize that! I don’t understand why Rhaenyra is so short / frustrated with Rhaena in that scene, there’s no buildup to it either. They’re creating character conflicts for no reason other to have conflict.

Caraxes! Daemon on Caraxes! Love Simon Strong. He’s smart enough to bend the knee, yet also polite & witty. (“No redcurrant, sorry”).

Would Daemon actually be called “Your Grace”? Are any of the Queen Consorts called “Your Grace” in the books or show? I can’t remember. Though I imagine from a political standpoint, it’d be better to leave him as Prince Consort or refer to him as your Prince to not overshadow Rhaenyra as Queen. Sidenote: is that Alys Rivers in the background with the dark hair?

Gwayne Hightower is here! Everyone was excited for him, yeah? So Criston Cole is officially Dornish! Which is a bit weird because his house is from the Stormlands, granted located in the Dornish Marshes, but so is their liege lord House Dondarrion (who are very much not Dornish, and are very much Stormlanders). He could have like a Dornish mother I suppose. I can see some comparisons made to someone like Vayon Poole (a noble house hence the surname but a small one), yet he’s still a nobleman and certainly not a smallfolk like how some people claim.

I know I was just hating on Rhaenys but I do love her in her scenes with Corlys, the actors really sell that they’re in love / in a committed relationship full of love. The Driftmark succession is in question again, Rhaenys says it is either Rhaena or Joffrey (neither of which Corlys believes are fit). So I imagine this is how they further set up Addam and Alyn.

Wait wait, so Rhaena is going to the Vale! But she’s taking Joffrey and the other sons with her? So the plan is ward Joffrey at the Vale, and Aegon & Viserys are staying temporarily there as well. Awww, Rhaenyra giving Rhaena the clutches of eggs. Baela & Rhaena hugging!

Ooo! We get another Helaena scene! Larys pitting Aegon against Alicent & Aemond is great (and kind of funny in a manner).

Oh shit the Brothel scene. Wow I was not expecting that! Aegon is such a little shit. Wasn’t expecting all the full frontal nudity tbh.

Don’t open the letter, Rhaenyra. Just burn that shit.

YES YES YES BAELA ON MOONDANCER! MOONDANCER! BAELA THE DRAGONRIDER! DRAGON SCENE! OUR FUTURE QUEEN BAELA TARGARYEN ON HER DRAGON! GET HIM! GO GET HIM, BAELA!

Creepy ass Harrenhal really making sure we believe that it’s cursed, making Daemon hallucinate. That or the damp nature of the castle means mushrooms and fungi grew that causes hallucinations. What a freaky nightmare sequence to have Young Rhaenyra sewing up Jaehaerys’ head. Then the weirwood tree and (presumably) Alys standing there creepily. Supposedly to make us think she’s a witch.

No, no, no, no. The time for peace is over. Ugh, why do you want to go meet with her, Rhaenyra? Alicent holds no power or sway. Aegon would never agree to Peace and neither would any of Rhaenyra’s followers. “There are no terms now” Why is woe is me Alicent making a good statement for once. Should have stabbed the Queen Dowager and booked it back to Dragonstone. Alicent can’t prevent shit, Rhaenyra.