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#king viserys targaryen x reader
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The Good Queen
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(Gif not mine)
Fandom: House of the Dragon
Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)
Tag: hotd the good queen
Warning: Fluff. Happy ending. No one dies (except Aemma, sorry love) and everyone lives. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Slight gore.
Word Count: 3,901
Summary: The King must choose a new wife, and Alicent’s older sister, Y/n Hightower, is a suitable choice and a perfect match. For once, Viserys makes a decision that benefits everyone and upsets little few. The Seven Kingdoms are better for it.
Author’s Note: Not a request. Oddly enough, plenty request Otto imagines but never King Viserys. I thought I'd give it a try since I had an idea. But to be honest, Viserys x Reader are sort of background pairing/onlookers of this.
(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)
It was the most logical choice to pick the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower. It was also all part of Lady Y/n’s plan. After the death of her mother, she had become the guardian figure her younger sister, Alicent, truly needed in her time of grief and loneliness. Older and far more mature in beauty and wisdom, The Lady Y/n Hightower was determined to still give Alicent whatever was left of her childhood and did everything in her power to make her little sister feel loved and accepted. So if there were whispers regarding Alicent, Y/n likely knew about it. One night, her handmaid came into her room and warned her of whispers involving her little sister and the King. The maid spoke of Lord Otto placing Alicent where Viserys could see her after the death of the late Queen Aemma, and Y/n was beyond disgusted and furious.
However, instead of confronting her father, Y/n went behind his back and also placed herself where Viserys could see her. While she couldn’t stop Alicent from seeing the King at night without raising suspicion, she did, however, visited the King between meals and even ask Princess Rhaenyra if she could attend the Small Council meetings to act as another cupbearer. Rhaenyra, excited with the prospect of another woman being a part of the meetings, accepted the proposal. Y/n made sure to fill Viserys’ cup modestly and had even accompanied him in the royal gardens a time or two after that. It didn’t take much effort before he announced to his small council his engagement to her. Rhaenyra, sad but relieved her father found another wife, gladly welcomed Y/n into the family with open arms and was even more excited at the idea of Alicent being ever closer to being a part of her family.
The Hand of the King, however, was less than happy and voiced how displeased he was of her when finding time alone with his eldest daughter, “What have you done?”
“Done?” Y/n questioned from her vanity mirror, removing her earrings after a long day of the people of the court congratulating her.
“He was supposed to marry your sister.”
“Why would he want Alicent, Father?” Y/n tilted her head innocently at the reflection of Otto standing at a distance behind her, “She’s but a child.”
“In the gods' eyes, she is a woman grown.”
“So am I. I am the eldest, so why must she be married off first?”
“She’s the most comely lady in court.”
“If you think me ugly, Father,” she snarled, finally standing up and turning to face her father head-on, “Just say it and be done with it.”
“I had wished to marry you off to your cousin.”
“Ormund is Heir to Oldtown. Surely my uncle would want a better match for him to ally another large house to ours instead of within our own family. You’re a political man. Try to be smarter than the second son desperate for power.”
The insult strained their relationship if it hadn’t been strained already. Lord Otto barely spoke to his eldest daughter after that unless common courtesy compels him to do so, like complimenting her wedding dress before he gave her away to Viserys. Y/n may not have felt love when the King kissed her with the promise of affection and commitment, but she felt relief. Upon watching the way Alicent danced and laughed during the feast that night, entirely unaware and still innocent of childhood, Y/n knew she made the right decision.
It wasn’t long before Y/n was pregnant then the world as she knew it imploded with excitement. The maesters, after tending to all of the former Queen Aemma’s sickly pregnancies, were astonished to see Y/n flourish in quite the opposite direction. In a strange way, she was excited to be a mother, and practically raising Rhaenyra and Alicent helped with that dream.
At first hesitant, the princess grew to love Y/n as her stepmother, especially since the new Queen was her best friend’s sister. Even though Y/n was rumored to be carrying a son inside of her, Rhaenyra tried not to openly worry for her sake. She may be Viserys’ shiny new heir, but the idea of Queen Y/n having a son bothered Rhaenyra, even though Y/n tried easing her worries with the promise of always openly advocating for the princess’ right to the throne. This aggravated Lord Otto for obvious reasons. After Aegon was born, the Hand tried reaffirming his position over his daughter in order to persuade her into raising Aegon as the future king. In return, he got a stone wall, unmoveable even in the strongest of storms.
“You may be the Hand of the King,” Y/n had sneered at her father one night in the safety of her chambers, “But I am the wife to the King. I am the Queen.”
And with his daughter as Queen, Lord Otto found himself in lesser power than when she was just a lady of the court. With her baby boy on her hip, Queen Y/n attended many Small Council meetings, shameless at the stares of men around her when she took her seat next to Viserys, stealing the spot away from his Hand. Over some time, Y/n became to lean towards Rhaenyra when the princess poured her wine and offered small treats to her little half-brother. With the proper influence, Y/n had also convinced Viserys to grant his daughter a seat at the table, no longer a cupbearer. Y/n then happily stepped aside and let Rhaenyra sit next to her father while the Queen sat next to her own. By then, Lord Otto never felt further away from the King, physically and cognitively.
Even less so when his younger daughter was married off under his own nose. Like a carpet pulled underneath him, Lord Otto was forced to walk Alicent down the aisle and be handed off to her new husband, Harwin “Breakbones” Strong. Some wonder who could have ever picked out such a perfect match, while others looked no further than the Queen herself. With her father’s pawns now swiftly taken from him, Lord Otto begrudgingly asked King Viserys for his blessing to resign. Although shocked, Viserys only had to look to his wife before granting his Hand a dismissal.
Tail between his legs, Otto Hightower left for Oldtown, never to return to King’s Landing, even when his daughters produced him grandchildren. In his place, Lord Lyonel Strong was named Hand of the King and he was a better-suited friend to the throne, and most importantly, an ally to his Queen.
Queen Y/n was a busy woman, even while pregnant. Especially while pregnant. She couldn’t afford anyone trying to take away her power and influence when she was knocked down and so she was constantly on the move, no matter how round she got. Her daughter, Helaena, came quicker than Aegon, and so the Red Keep was filled with delight at the announcement of a new princess soon to roam the halls. Rhaenyra was delighted. She was spotted trying to teach the baby girl how to walk, letting her little sister hang onto her hands and trot over her own feet. Alicent was already a proud aunt, but she doted on Helaena much like Y/n used to dote on her own younger sister. It seems as though the Queen had been quite the influence between Rhaenyra and Alicent, both now fully grown, beautiful and proud.
If Alicent was missing her father, she never showed it. Instead, she spent her time excited when she learned she would soon be a mother herself. Watching Y/n raise her children, Alicent had grown to wish to be just like her sister one day. Harwin was kind to his young wife and understood his place in her heart must be shared with the people around her. He knew Alicent loved her sister, the Queen. He knew she loved her niece, Helaena, and nephew, Aegon, and above all, he knew she loved the Princess Rhaenyra. Harwin couldn’t blame Alicent. Harwin had grown to love her, too.
Y/n and Alicent were soon pregnant together, and it felt as though the Seven Kingdoms could not have had a more beautiful, plentiful summer that year. Everyone was happy, whether of the royal family growing or from the prospect of the harvest. Most of King’s Landing was always celebrating and most stomachs were full and warm. With the Queen and her sister expecting, the castle was alive with happiness and love.
However, Y/n knew there was one individual who was internally unhappy. She was no fool. The Queen saw the way Rhaenyra looked at Alicent and the way Alicent looked at Rhaenyra. Surely, Alicent’s unborn child sparked a deep-dwelling of sadness within Rhaenyra, longing still evident in her eyes. Eventually, Y/n saw the way Ser Harwin stared after the princess as well and knew that something had to be done. She wouldn’t dare dream of separating the three, but she knew that Rhaenyra had to marry soon or who knows what sort of rumors might blossom should someone else notice the tension between the princess, Alicent, and Harwin. Rhaenyra needed a husband, despite the princess making it difficult to find a suitor. Y/n knew where to look, but unlike the other times, it would take a lot more effort to convince the King of this match.
“No,” Viserys smiled, despite the clouds looming overhead, “Absolutely not. Daemon is not worthy of my daughter.”
“If you could have your way, no one would be worthy of her,” Y/n sighed, briefly smiling at her husband while rounding the Small Council’s table towards him, her hand brushing over the surface. They were alone at the moment, waiting for the other members to join them, “But she is your heir, and she’s no longer a child. She is unwed, and last I heard, Daemon had recently lost his wife, Lady Royce. As I understand it, their marriage was left unconsummated.”
“Others will look to him to be King, instead of Rhaenyra their Queen,” Viserys retorted.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Not everyone will be happy, no matter what decision you make, Your Grace.”
She reaches the King, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she crossed to stand behind him, rubbing his aging shoulders and physically feeling his body slowly uncoil and relax. Viserys sighs, long and exhausted, his fingers rising to rub his eyes, but instead reach further back and clasp Y/n’s hand instead. She squeezes his hand encouragingly, while Viserys still looked hesitant and forlorn, “He’s not worthy of her...”
“No,” Y/n leans down and kissed the top of his head, “But he does love her. And I think she loves him, too. They are dragons, Viserys, and your kin. Your house sigil requires three dragon heads. If Rhaenyra is to be Queen someday, then she will need heirs of her own. She’ll need dragons. This marriage proposal is not an unheard-of custom, especially for a Targaryen. This alliance will keep your legacy strong long after you and I are gone, and your reign over Westeros will remain peaceful long after Rhaenyra has passed on.”
The Small Council meets that evening, and Viserys announces Daemon and Rhaenyra’s engagement. For supper, that night, King Viserys and Queen Y/n sit beside Rhaenyra and invite the children and Harwin and Alicent along for the celebration as well. Rhaenyra’s eyes sparkled again for the first time in a while, and if Y/n noticed the tight grip her stepdaughter had on her hand, she didn’t comment.
Thankfully, Daemon was on board with this proposal and made no fuss when he was summoned to King’s Landing. Both he and Rhaenyra were married by the end of seven, long days of festivities. The newlyweds decided to temporarily part for Dragonstone, but both rushed back on their dragons when they received word of Queen Y/n and Lady Alicent both going into labor.
Aemond was a difficult delivery, but Y/n was, as always, overjoyed to have the infant brought into her arms. Down the hall, not long after Aemond was born, the Queen could hear a different cry coming out of her sister’s room.
Alicent birthed a son, Jacerys Strong. The whole kingdom rejoiced over their new prince and little lord. Many spoke about the bond the two would share growing up and strengthening the alliance between House Targaryen and House Strong. Lifelong friends were born that day, and Y/n could not wait to raise her children alongside her sisters'.
Rhaenyra quickly became pregnant as well, and by this time, Y/n had noticed the way Rhaenyra and Alicent hold onto each other as they roam the gardens, both of their husbands following them in tow. The Queen doesn’t miss the way the four often spend most of their time together, day and night. Sometimes, Y/n feels as though she’s intruding when watching them all interact. Rhaenyra and Alicent are usually glued to each other’s side, but if not, sometimes Y/n noticed Daemon accompanying Alicent and Harwin attending to Rhaenyra. There are times when even all three are attending to the princess as her stomach slowly grows. Now that she noticed this, Queen Y/n noticed other things as well, like how intense those training sessions between Daemon and Harwin can be.
For the most part, Y/n turns a blind eye and makes no complaint. She doesn’t say a word to Viserys, but she’s seen the way the King watches his daughter with her... group of confidants, and part of Y/n wonders if her husband sees it, too. Perhaps she is not the only one turning a blind eye in order to see Rhaenyra happy with the family her father always wanted her contented with.
Daemon and Rhaenyra’s firstborn is also named Aegon, nicknamed the Younger. Aegon the Elder was delighted when Rhaenyra confessed she named her child after her brother more so than the Conqueror. Viserys was a proud grandfather/uncle, holding the babe in his arms as he sat upon the Iron Throne to announce Aegon’s birth to the court. During the festivities, Viserys even made a lighthearted joke about how his darling wife was so young and it was nearly impossible to believe that she was now a grandmother.
More children came after that, though Daeron would be Y/n’s last after she broke out in fevers once she birthed him. She survived, but after that, both she and Viserys agreed that Daeron would be their last one. Alicent and Harwin bore two more sons, Lucerys and Joffrey, while Daemon and Rhaenyra had another son and a daughter, Viserys II, and Visenya. Despite a few age differences in between, all the children were raised together within the Red Keep and grew up nearly forgetting that they were, in fact, not all direct siblings. They were taught together. They trained together, sewed together, and fought together.
Ten years passed and they were the best years of King Viserys’ life, or so people claim. Even as his health declined, he made no room for sorrow, only joy when his children and grandchildren were involved. One of his favorite pastimes was overlooking the courtyard and watching as his children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews all played together. All of the Targaryen children’s dragons, still small with age, curiously watched them play as well, acting more like large dogs than fiery beasts.
As they got older, some of the boys got rougher. As siblings-who-are-not-really-siblings do, they all occasionally fight or they take their anger out in training. One unfortunate incident was between Aemond and Lucerys. Whilst training, it was clear that the cousins were angry at each other over something minuscule and so they tried to vent using the swing of their swords. Unfortunately, Luke swung hard and Aemond didn’t sidestep in time to avoid it. The very tip of the Strong boy’s sword slashed across Aemond’s eye, leaving behind an unspeakable scene full of blood and screams.
The Queen was summoned right away, directed to Aemond’s chambers where her son was already abed with the Grand Maester tending to him. It was a gruesome scene, even with the wound already cleaned. Aemond’s eye was swollen and angry, a long, ugly cut running through it, trailing down his cheek and over his eyebrow.
The maester moves away from the bed and allows the Queen to take his place by her son’s side as he explained, “I have given as much Milk of the Poppy as I could, Your Grace, but for a child of his size, it would be too dangerous to give him the proper doses he would normally need to relax. The pain has dulled, but it will linger.”
The Queen sits on the edge of Aemond’s bed, “It will heal, will it not?”
“The flesh will heal into a scar... but the eye is lost, Your Grace.”
Y/n’s face crumbles in distress, taking Aemond’s hand in hers while brushing some of his silver hair from his young face, “What happened?”
“An accident in the training yard, Your Grace, as I understand it.”
“Luke cut me!” Aemond cried in anger, “He cut me and I should have left my mark in return! I had my chance and I couldn’t take it! I wish I had!”
"Aemond," his mother warns, eyeing him with a look that only a mother could threaten with her child, “You don’t mean that. I understand your anger and your grief, but at the end of the day, what happened was an accident. Tragic, yes, but an accident. Luke is your cousin. He is a part of your family and he loves you. He would have never intentionally harmed you and you know it.”
She leans forward then and kisses his forehead, just above the top of the cut, "We can get you something to cover it up. Or, once it fully heals, we can replace it with a false eye. A diamond, perhaps? Ruby?"
Her lightheartedness softens Aemond’s anger, slightly, as he relents to his mother’s touch, leaning into her embrace as he entertains her idea, "Sapphire."
She leans back so he could see her smile of approval, "A fine choice, my love.”
The Queen stands up, taking her time to help Aemond lie down and get properly tucked into his covers. She lovingly pets his hair down as she turns to the maester beside her, “Grand Maester. Have some essence of Nightshade brought up to my son’s chambers. He needs time to rest and heal.”
“At once, Your Grace,” the maester bows then exits the room.
Y/n leans back down to her son one last time, bringing his hand up to her face to kiss his fingers, “Be hopeful, son. Women like men with scars."
She leaves the room and makes her long trek to the kitchens. Rounding a corner, she comes across her sister. Alicent was distraught and full of guilt, grasping the Queen's hands in hers as she cries, "I'm so sorry... Harwin and I will punish Luke accordingly."
"There's no need," Y/n is quick to reassure Alicent, her sisterly instincts kicking back in. The instinct never truly went away. It was dormant, but Y/n will always protect her sister, no matter how old she gets, "It was an accident, Ali. Aemond will not resent your son for it. I can imagine Luke is very distraught about what happened. You must attend to him. Reassure him that he was not at fault and I would never hold this over my nephew."
After she sent Alicent back to her family, Y/n returns to her original task and heads to the kitchens. She returns to Aemond's chambers a little while later, carrying a tray of food and drink for her son, ignoring the servants when they offered to carry it for her. Behind her, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron are hovering in the doorway, poking their heads into the room and trying to get a good look at their brother abed. The Queen sets the tray down and turns back to the doorway with a knowing glance, “Come along. Dine with your brother but then leave him to rest.”
A picnic was made in Aemond’s bed, his mother and siblings surrounding him as they nibbled on bread and cheese. They talked about other things to distract the injured prince, telling stories about their day or laughing at a joke Aegon said. Viserys, in search of his family, limped into the room with his cane not long after, smiling softly at the scene before him.
After sending her other children away to let Aemond sleep, Y/n takes her husband's arm and carefully walks with him to her own chambers. His hair had begun to thin out and a hunch in his back drove him to lean forward or off to the side as he walked crookedly. He was no longer the peaceful, handsome king Y/n had married, and a small ache in her heart hammered every time she looked into his eyes, age spots and wrinkles beginning to form on his pale skin. Despite his troubles with his health, he still never looked happier.
"You are a wonderful woman, Y/n," Viserys held her arm in a firm grip, his kind smile pulling those wrinkles further up his face. His eyes dazzled warmly, happily, without a sign of a lie, "You're a good mother, a good queen, but most importantly you're a good wife. Had I not married you... I am not sure I would be surrounded by the most loving family and ruling such a prosperous kingdom. What would I do without you?"
Y/n smiled back, patting his arm affectionately as they make it down the long hallway of their home, "Best not to dwell on such a question, my love. The Seven Kingdoms are better off without knowing."
~~~
Viserys dies in his sleep a few years later. His health had gotten worse and the only thing he allowed the maester to administrate was the Milk of the Poppy to dull the pain. Otherwise, he didn't ask for a cure, nor did he try to even fight his illness. Many often wondered if, in the end, he was waiting to die. Others thought that guilt was a deadly illness and whatever secret the King had, died with him. After being given a window to mourn, the now Queen Regent, Y/n Hightower, crowned Viserys' rightful heir herself.
Queen Rhaenyra's coronation was grand, as what Viserys would've wanted for his beloved daughter. Daemon, his brother, proudly took the name, King Consort, while Rhaenyra named her firstborn son, Prince Aegon the Younger, her rightful heir. Lyonel Strong remained the Hand of the Queen, but his son, Harwin, was named Commander of the City Watch and was given a place at the Small Council's table. His children with Alicent were given titles to many lands, their oldest son heir to Harrenhal. Aegon the Elder was permitted the claim to Dragonstone, while Rhaenyra's other half-siblings were appointed as squires and cupbearers to her court, some were even betrothed to the Strong children.
Y/n, however, remained in King's Landing, despite being granted permission to go back to her family's home, Oldtown. With Rhaenyra's permission, she remained in the Red Keep where she had made a home among her children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. Y/n Hightower -once called the Good Queen- died in her bed many years later, after briefly meeting her first great-grandchild to her son, Aegon, and his wife and niece, Visenya.
There were no Blacks. There were no Greens. A hundred years will pass and everyone will know the story of how one woman stopped the Dance of Dragons from ever happening. Or better yet, no one will have ever even heard of it.
~~~
A/N: I know, I switched everything up and made everyone confused. This was a form of therapy for me after I wished that everyone in the show would just get along.
Part Two
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drakoneve · 1 year
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The Wolf Amongst Dragons
request: Can you pretty please do a daemon X reader where it's his niece who teases him about being super smitten with the reader BC she is a headstrong stark and makes a fool out of the court because she can. Perhaps she gets quite hurt in a battle that the king sends her and others out to fix. Basically it just ends up being fluffy where the reader knows his feelings and just soaks up the complete love he has. Like this boy has been knocked off his feet and he hates to admit it hehe 
pairing: daemon targaryen x y/n stark 
word count: 1k
warnings: canon typical violence, injured reader, blood
a/n: i tweaked this a little, hope you don’t mind!
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You made a promise to yourself the day your older brother, Cregan, loaded you and your belongings into a carriage headed for the capital. Until this point you’d never stepped foot out of Winterfell, let alone were you prepared to move to the other side of the continent. Yet you had no choice. When the King of the Seven Kingdoms requests a Northern representative for the royal court, the Lord of Winterfell had no choice but to send his little sister.
When you finally arrived at the Red Keep you were meet with by King Viserys, his wife Queen Aemma, their daughter Princess Rhaenyra, and the king’s brother Prince Daemon. The Kingsguard stood tall in gleaming armor in full force surrounding the royal family, who was also accompanied by their personal staff.
“Lady Stark!” King Viserys cheers as he opens his arms in greeting. “We are honored to welcome you to the Red Keep! I hope your travels went smoothly?”
“Thank you, your Grace,” you answered as you bowed respectively. “The Kingsroad is fine, your Grace. It’s more the climate that’s concerning me. i’m not yet used to such... conditions, to say the least.”
Queen Aemma steps forward, “I’m sure you’ll adjust before you know it. Please, allow me to show you to your chambers.”
The queen was gracious enough to accompany you not only to your chambers, but she then took you on a tour of the palace. She began with the throne room, then took you out to the royal gardens where she took you to the Godswood. Having a weirwood tree right here in the Red Keep made you breath easier. At least this place had some trace of the North. Being so far from home unnerved you deeply, but in this place you could feel a connection to home.
Over the next few days you attended Small Council meetings where you watched from the sidelines. King Viserys assured you would have a seat on the council soon enough, but others suggested you have an ‘adjustment period’ of sorts. You scoffed at the idea but still took your seat outside the council table.
Being separated from the council, however, was not enough to restrain you from calling Otto Hightower a ‘spoiled southern cunt’ for suggesting Daemon send members of the City Watch into Flea Bottom to reprimand those who are already fighting to survive. During these meetings you happened to catch the violet eyes of the rogue prince, who had yet to make your acquaintance. 
Not long after your arrival in Winterfell, King Viserys announced that Queen Aemma is with child once more, and the palace went into a mode of celebrations. A feast had been prepared and the throne room transformed into a dining hall with room for dancing. 
Most everyone had finished their meals and began mingling and dancing their way around the room, but your attention focused mainly on the many molten swords of the Iron Throne. You had to admit the sight of the royal seat of Westeros was quite an intimidating sight.
Something inside told you to take a step towards the throne, and so you did. You stopped when you approached the first line of molten swords and reached out to trail your fingers lightly across the hilt. 
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Daemon advised teasingly as he came up on your right side. “My brother does not take kindly to those who yearn for his precious throne.”
“I merely grazed the hilt of one measly sword,” you refuted. “I did not sit my arse upon it and call myself the queen. Nor do I want to.”
“Truthfully?” he inquires, a look of curiosity upon his face. You take the moment to take in the sight of him, and you cannot deny he’s an incredibly handsome  man. Like the rest of his Targaryen ancestors, Daemon is beautifully crafted by the Gods of Old Valyria— blessed with silver blond hair and lilac eyes. 
You nod and look back up to the throne. “I could think of nothing worse,” you admit. “To live my life upon this ghastly thing and have to sit through endless bore-me-to-death Small Council meetings? Sounds miserable to me.”
With that you excuse yourself respectively to retire for the evening. You make quick rounds to the other members of the royal family to excuse yourself for the night totally unaware of how Daemon’s eyes are following you the whole time. He watches as you begin with his brother and sister in law, before finding Rhaenyra (who’s in the middle of the dancefloor with Alicent) and saying goodnight to her, too.
He laughs to himself when Rhaenyra and Alicent each take one of your hands and pulls you around in circles with them, as if trying to convince you to stay with them just a bit longer. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but his heart beats harder at the sight of your dark gray satin skirts flow around you while you twirl, at the smile on your face as you laugh with his niece and her friend.
Eventually you pull away from the girls before officially making your way out of the throne room and away from the chaos. 
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Several months had passed since the death of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon, and war had begun in the Stepstones just as Corlys Velaryon warned King Viserys and the eternity of the Small Council. Still Viserys refused to step in as king and help the Lord of Driftmark defeat the Triarchy once and for all. After the king rejected Corlys’ offer of Laena’s hand in marriage and instead married Alicent Hightower, the seasnake took off to fight in the Stepstones. It wasn’t long after that that Daemon joined Corlys in his war efforts.
You stayed in the Keep for awhile, trying to convince Viserys to aid Corlys and Daemon in their efforts of holding the Stepstones to no avail. Viserys had allowed you to take a seat on the council while Corlys and Daemon were gone, and each time you tried to plead with the king to see reason Otto Hightower would weasel his way in the king’s ear against you. 
So you decided to go to the Stepstones yourself, naturally. You recruited Ser Harwin Strong to accompany you once he swore on his honor he would not say a word of your plan to anyone until his safe return to King’s Landing. 
You and Harwin arrived on the shores of the Stepstones in time to rush to Daemon’s side as he was overrun by members of the Triarchy. You wore the armor your father had gifted you after many years of insisting on joining your brother Cregan on the battlefield with the Stark bannermen. 
Vaemond Velaryon scoffed at your arrival and insisted Corlys send you away. Daemon stepped forward, piercing Vaemond with his furious lilac gaze. 
“Put your cocks away, boys,” you tease, unimpressed. “We’ve a war to win, do we not?”
You joined the war torn men around the large table set up with the maps of the battlefields. Conversation continued back and forth as the lot of you tried to come up with a plan to take down the Crab Feeder and Triarchy. Laenor’s plan of sending Daemon to the Crab Feeder as a scapegoat of false hope only for both Caraxes and Seasmoke to burn the Triarchy men alive. 
For the most part everything went as planned, until you jained Daemon’s side as he was ambushed, unarmed, by a circle of the enemy. You’d jumped into the fight, effectively taking out several Triarchy soldiers before tossing a sword Daemon’s way. He showed his thanks by slaying the rest of the men with you, but not before one of them slashed you in the side, leaving a bloody gash on the side of your thigh.
“Fuck!” you yell as you clutch your leg, losing your balance and hitting the ground. Blood streamed down your leg in a slow, but steady, flow. Daemon joined your side in a flash, ripping the white flag he’d had to feign surrenderance to tie the cloth as tight as he could above the gash in your thigh.
The battle continued around you though for the most part Caraxes’ and Seasmoke’s flame had discouraged most of what was left of the Triarchy. With Daemon’s aid you were able to safely make it back to the shore where you’d first arrived to be treated by the healers available.
Daemon stayed by your side through the stitching and even went as far as to hold your hand and offer sweet words as comfort. You were grateful for him, this way you had something else to focus on other than the pain. And if you needed an alternative to keep your mind busy, there was no better pick than Daemon.
His silvery white hair fell around his face perfectly despite being slightly matted with sweat and blood. He’d always been handsome, that you couldn’t deny, but seeing this softer side to him made him even more so in your eyes. It’s no secret Daemon is a troublemaker, and you should probably keep your distance, but after this how could you?
Long after the battle was over Daemon was crowned King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea. He’d cut his infamous long hair short, and it suited him. Sometimes little wisps of silver hair would fall down into his face and you had to remind yourself to breathe at the sight.
Your relationship with Daemon changed after the war in the Stepstones. Whereas before the war you would avoid Daemon in court, you now sought him out. Not that you had too, because he often would join your side in Small Council meetings or invite you out to the training yards.
Tonight however, you opted to stay in your chambers.
You’d already stripped down to your nightclothes when a knock came from the other side of your chamber doors.
“Come in.” you called.
The doors open and Daemon entered, dismissing your guards. They looked to you before leaving once they had your reassurance.
Daemon didn’t hesitate to step right up to you. “Forgive me for the hour, my lady, but I’ve found myself in a situation I am quite unfamiliar with and it seems you are the only one who can help me.”
“Oh?” You tilted your head, trying to ignore the fluttering of your heart. “How am I supposed to be of aid?”
“Be mine,” he responds quickly with confidence. “I must confess from the day you arrived here in the Keep I’ve been quite taken with you. And the day you rode onto the shores of the Stepstones, I knew I could not live without you by my side—”
You reached your hands out to cup either side of his face. “Daemon, do not jest. I’m afraid my heart could not take it.”
A genuine smile breaks out across his lips. “I would never,” Daemon insists. “I’ve felt this way for a long time, my little wolf.”
Daemon’s hands fall to your waist as he pulls you into his body, leaning down to kiss you firmly. You pulled away and kissed his forehead before resting your own against his. 
“Come to bed, Daemon,” you purr and pull away towards the bed.
He laughs and smiles down at you. “As you wish, little wolf.”
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agent-barnes40 · 1 year
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An angst request please! Reader suddenly breaks their betrothal to Daemon, Viserys, Aegon, and Aemond, which breaks the guys' hearts. Only for the guys to later find out it's because Otto threatened them too (because he hates Daemon/he wants Viserys to marry Alicent/he thinks Reader isn't good enough for his grandkids)
This is my third time writing this. I forgot to save it, sorry Kama!
TW: Otto Hightower. Death due to Childbirth, threats. I'm sorry for us stealing your man, Aemma.
High Valyrian in italics followed by English is the word's English translation.
Daemon Targaryen
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Daemon was on cloud nine and then suddenly you were gone, off to be betrothed to one Harwin 'Breakbones' Strong
He knew the two of you were good, so he broke tables and flipped them over when he found out.
He's upset and trying to determine why Harwin took you away from him. It wasn't until your betrothal gathering that did he finally find out why
"My prince! Thank you for coming! I didn't expect to see you here!" You called, rushing over to him, a tight smile on your face. You reached for his hand only for him to clasp his hands together. "I have that book you wanted, last time we talked, Prince Daemon."
Daemon nodded and gestured forward. "Lead away, pykagon perzys little shit."
You lead the way, putting your arms behind your back, mimicking Daemon even now, even when you two weren't seeing each other.
"The hand gave the access to get this. I don't know when I was barred to get books, but I got it." You told him, grabbing the wrapped book and handing it to the prince. "I can't wait to read it with you, Daemon."
That's when Daemon realized it wasn't your choice to leave him. It was that cunt Otto. It was him that gave you to Harwin. Daemon presses a hand to your shoulder before leaving, one hand tight on the mysterious book you gave him and the other on the pommel of Dark Sister.
He was going to get you back, damn his brother and his cunt of a wife.
King Viserys Targaryen
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Viserys was still grieving the loss of the life he wanted with Aemma when he met you, a lovely person at court who mourned the late queen and prince with him.
He was waiting next to the council room doors when you rushed passed, a group of ladies surrounding you. "Y/n? May I have a word with you?"
You stopped and gestured to the ladies to continue walking. "Yes, my grace, what is it?" You looked up at him, a small smile on your face.
"What's been happening?" He asked, trying to not seem intrusive. Your eyes grew sad and looked away. "I am preparing for my marriage, to Jason Lannister, my king. The Hand arranged it with my parents and Ser Jason."
Viserys face fell. "That means you are leaving the keep."
"Yes, it is, my king. I am sorry." You said, feeling bold and squeezing his hand. "I will write every day, my king. I shall miss our friendship."
And then, you were gone.
Aegon Targaryen II
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Aegon had kept a lover after he and Heleana married, you were welcome to interact with his children and his wife as you wanted until Rhaenyra and her bastards came to The Keep. Aegon kept an eye on you until Daemon and Rhaenyra had latched onto you since they had arrived. You were taken by them, hook, line, and sinker. You had fallen in love with the Heir and older Prince.
You were packing that night after the dinner and Aegon caught you. "Where are you going?" He asked and you looked up. "The Princess asked me to help care for her children. I took the job, I'll also be helping Prince Joffrey in Dragonstone." You responded, pushing the trunk closed before calling for a maid. Aegon put his hand on your shoulder. "And why are you leaving me?"
"Because I'll have a better life there! A life without hiding, Aegon!" You shouted and looked him in the eye. "I want to love and not hide, my prince."
And you were gone, and the next he heard of you, was when he sent his Grandsire to Dragonstone, to find a way to fix this "great" house and to get you back.
When Otto returned, he was greeted with no you but a letter given to Otto
"My Aegon, I must admit I left abruptly, but I have to confess something. I've been in love with her grace and the prince since I first saw them. I have married them in the way of your house. I am sorry." Was what he read and he tore the letter apart.
Aemond Targaryen
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Aemond didn't want a Baratheon girl, he wanted you. And you were suddenly set to marry a lord from House Beesbury. It was to correct Ser Cole's accident and to tie the House back to the side of The Greens. Aemond knew of this and pushed on his mother's and grandsire's boundaries.
He wanted you, and only you. So he set to have you. You two were friends since your birth, and thus as children, you vowed to only have each other in your beds and hearts. Day in and Day out, Aemond sat in with the council and bargained certain things, until finally, he noticed his mother sigh. "It would be better to tie their house to ours than House Beesbury! We have been together since their birth and you want to deny us this?"
"You are betrothed to one of Boris' girls, you need to stop seeing them." Otto snapped and Aemond rose up, his hand on the table. "I have only agreed myself to one person in this world, and it is them. Now do you want your spare to be sitting here, waiting for the day war comes and he leaves his wife, to fight? or do you want another person on Rhaenyra's side just so he can marry the person he loves? Cause those are my terms. I shall be waiting." Aemond pulled a paper out of his pocket and let it drift onto the table before walking out of the small council room. It was said that Vhagar arrived at Dragonstone that night with The Prince Aemond and his lover, swearing fealty to the Black Queen.
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his real ambition | king viserys x reader 
Description: Being a matriarch to a family was has hard, watching the love of your life marry someone else is harder. requested by @tremendouscoffeeprincess
A/N: I know that you requested the reader to be his mistress but that breaks my heart :((
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The men in your life were weak — they were all sheep. Being the lady of your house was hard work, especially when there was a realm of men plotting against your demise. King Viserys stays by your side however — a constant, a light that guides you through the maze.
But he was a fool — and everyone played him like a fiddle. Perhaps that was the reason you were so enamored by him, there was something about his naivety that allowed you to become a much more stronger woman.
He wasn't married when you loved him. He was still a young lord reigning over the shadow of his cousin; Princess Rhaenys. But after his marriage to Aemma, the rift between both of you supermounted to the highest degree.
You'd bump shoulders in some days, and act like the other didn't exist in the other. It was a charade — a stupid circus that wasn't going to burn down soon. After Aemma died, it felt like a door was opened — and you had your chance once again.
That was until he announced his engagement to Lady Alicent of Hightower — and then you realized that he was truly a fiddle. A dumb twat who could easily be manipulated.
You slam the door loudly as he takes a step back. "Lady Y/N? Is everything alright?" he questions intuitively as you roll your eyes in shock. "You're marrying Lady Alicent?" you exasperate as he nods in return.
Alicent was a delicate flower — a beautiful submissive woman, who'd be perfect for Viserys if he weren't submissive himself. Their marriage would turn the entire court into a puppet show.
"Yes, have you come to give your blessings?" he taunts as he stands up from his seat. You cross your hands in disbelief, "Blessings? Have you gone dumb?" you beseeched as his frown deepens.
There was no way in hell, you were going to give them your blessing. You had love for his daughter, Princess Rhaenyra — allowing Lady Alicent to marry The King, meant killing Nyra (even if it wasn't said directly.)
"Pardon me?" he excuses as you bite your lip. He's a stupid idiot, a sheep, I shouldn't have loved him.
"And what of me? I've waited like a martyr—" your voice gets cut off. "Waiting for the death of my wife?" he exclaims as he treads towards you. He loved Aemma, and you knew that — perhaps even more than he loved you.
After all, that woman gave her a child. "Isn't that what we always agreed upon?" you spat as he sighs loudly. Alicent was his love, and you his lust. There was a clear barrier between the both.
"We never agreed upon anything," he clears up as you chuckle once more. He was an asshole, not a real dragon. "Then why have you disagreed upon every marriage proposal given to me? It's foolish enough that you've had me wishing —"
"Wishing? Apologies, but I assumed that you were the one who wanted not to marry." he apologizes as he waved his arm around. You scoff, now he's acting like I'm the one at wrong.
You loved the man inside of Viserys, even if he was cruel. "Then what about me?" you imply as he freezes slightly. In the midst of all the celebrations, he's forgotten about the woman who loved him first.
He sits down, and takes a deep breath. "Lady Y/N, you are a wonderful woman. And perhaps I would've married you — if I was any other man." he trailed off as you took a step towards him. White pools of water now filling your eyes as he clears his throat.
"But I must think of my duties first. Marrying Lady Alicent would benefit the realm" he reasons as you bite your lip. Another load of his lies. "Then love me still." you reply as you kneeled beneath his sitting form. "Love you how?" he questions as he places a hand on your face.
"Love me in ways we've always had"
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zephyrrr101 · 1 month
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Not like her
Pairing: Daemon x niece reader
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Warning: Targcest/incest, DUBCON?, size kink and breeding kink light, mention of somnophilia, slight manipulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, first intercourse, sweet Daemon, Daemon being a soft uncle hubby.(Because I simp) All ASOIAF warnings. MINOR DNI (but do with hungry bitches care?) also not proof read. High Valyrian translation might or not be wrong.
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You looked around the Throne Room which had now was filled with hoards of people, All the nobles have made there way to King’s Landing to attend your sider sister, Rhaenyra’s wedding to your cousin Ser Laenor Velaryon. It was a match made out of convenience, you had known that.
Father had not told you much, nor had your maids and lady companions, all having been sworn to silence by your father. But it didn’t take much for news to not get to your ears. Red Keep was never able to keep gossips.
Apparently, Rhaenyra had been seen beyond the walls of Rad Keep during hour of wolf with someone in unseemly situations. There were no proofs that anyone had, but it had been enough for your father to set this betrothal to push the rumours away.
They weren’t rumours.
It was your sister’s sworn shield who had been the man who Rheernyra had shared her bad with that night. She had spoke to you of this a week after, since you broth were always close, your mother’s death bringing you even closer. You did not mind. Several lords went around having bastards, women too laid with men before marriages, you knew of it, why must Rhaenyra be kept from something she wanted But your sombre mood was not for your sister’s situation. Rhaenyra was strong and she welcomed things in her life with courage, even this marriage. Your issue was that your father, after he had talked with Rhaenyra, had a conversation with you too. You will be wed by the next year to a man of your father’s choosing. He did not seem to want another one of his daughters going and finding trouble.
You had hoped your father would give you the same liberty of choosing your husband that was given to Rhaenyra. You would not had minded choosing, you weren’t picky. You were a second daughter, getting many in a good family was always supposed to be your job. But you would have rather preferred if you could have a little bit of choice in it.
Thank you, Rhaenyra, I love you. But you fucked it up for me, Fuck you.
“Something on your mind, sweet niece?” You turned to Daemon who sat on your right. You were given the seat beside the Queen Alicent, not your preferable place, things between you and Alicent were awkward. She was your sister’s friend turned step-mother. You didn’t talk much, it was weird.
You sighed, turning to your uncle, who had come back from his trip to Stepstones a few days back. He had proven is determination when it came to the barren land. He had won it and now with your father’s blessings looked after the protection of Westros from there, visiting the place some times. “Father is setting up my betrothal.”
Daemon frowned, you could tell he was not happy, Daemon had been a constant in your and Rhaenyra’s life even of he was banished half of the time, more to you. While Rhaenyra had your father, you had your uncle. “Who?”
“I cannot say,” You fiddled with your cup of wine, you had lost your focus, drifting off in solace of solitude. “Father has not told me. But he says I will be wed by this time next year.”
Daemon did not reply. And you turned your attention to middle of room, Rhaenyra and Laenor had started to dance. You tipped your cup up, finishing your wine in one go you did not notice anything after that.
You did not notice how Daemon’s hand clenched around his cup as he glared at anything he could see, how his lilac eyes would fall over you, locking at your distressed race, how he counted each line that marred your forehead, how your tongue had slipped out of your mouth to catch the stray drop of wine and how licked it, your red tinged tongue moving over your lips wetting them. And you certainly did not notice the way he gripped Dark Sister’s pommel when Ser Harwin had come to ask you for a dance and you had agreed, leaving with the large dark haired knight.
No you did not.
You danced with other lords but again found Your way to Ser Harwin, or he did to you.
He spoke something to you, learned down so only you could hear him, Daemon could only imagine how he would be taking in your scent of jasmines, such a calming fragrance.
You nod.
He could not hear you from the distance but he had been around you for a lot longer to imagine how sweet your laughter must be in Strong knight’s ears.
This was it.
Daemon slammed his cup on the table, gathering attention of a few people around him and walked away, his brother’s cautioned words, blurred in his ears.
Ser Harwin was telling you about his tales of City Watch, how he sometimes sees the most hilarious things. Your favourite being the one where a certain lord was hit and thrown out of a pleasure house by one the workers and Ser Harwin had found him crying drunk with a bruised cheek. You had not noticed Daemon’s presence until he asked Ser Harwin if he could have a dance with you.
Who was he to say no to a seasoned warrior and dragon rider who could burn him to ashes if declined what he wanted.
“Ziry issa?” Is it him? Daemon asked you, you had well spotted the frown on his face and anger that was flowing in his lilac eyes. Something you could not comprehend.
“Skoros?” What?
Daemon takes your hand his, you let him guide to where ever he wants to, which happens to the farthest part of the dancing area, lesser people are here and you understand that whatever it must be that he wants to speak of he doesn’t want other to hear.
“Harwin,” He looks away from you and you follow his eyes, finding them on your father. It takes a moment for you to realise what he is asking.
“gimin daor,” I don’t know. You sighed. “It doesn’t matter does it, kepus? I must trust Father in his choice.”
“Your father’s choice?” He whispered, you could feel his breath tickling on your neck. “Look at this choice of his. Laenor is a good man but he will bore your sister senseless. And let us not forget his tastes.”
“It’s not that I don’t wish to marry, kepus,” You mutter, you suddenly found his doublet more interesting than the music or the dance. “But...”
Daemon hummed, his hand softly drew circles on the small of you back, you felt a shiver going through you.
“I understand politics but... I’d rather not be used as a pawn for gain without my say. At least without me knowing who I will be tied to for my whole life. I love my father, I really do,” you sighed, your eyes fell on your father and Alicent sitting beside him in a green dress. This wedding looked more like a disaster. “Look how miserable Alicent is. I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.”
Daemon listened to every word that left your mouth keenly. He embedded all of them in his very soul. His niece, his sweet and young niece who had been nothing but kind to him despite everything he might have one that could have hurt her. Even when his brother had sent him away for giving a moniker to his dead nephew all those years before. She had come to say good bye to him. Told him how she did not care for a boy who she didn’t even knew and wished him a safe journey, His little doll who always came to him when she didn’t like the braids her maid would put in her hair and have him redo everything.
I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.
And he imagined you, sitting beside some very aged lord, with life span of no long than a few years, who didn’t seem to be caring about anything but the cup of wine in his hands, children standing beside you and one in your hands, all while you looked sullen.
No. He couldn’t let it happen, Not when he knew how marriages like that ended up being.
He smiled at you, one his hand grabbing yours and other one caressing the soft skin of your cheeks, He looked at you with such intensity, with such fondness that you couldn’t help but feet the heat crawling up your neck.
“You won’t end up like her.” He told you and you knew better than anyone that his words were not hollow. It was an unsaid promise.
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The wedding did turn out to be a disaster. Rhaenyra’s sworn shield had murdered Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, an event which had led to a rushed marriage between Rhaenyra and Laenor. As soon as the chaos erupted, your uncle had pulled you away towards the doors of the hall since you both were closer to it than the royal table.
The stress had caused your father to collapse and another thing had come to light some disease was eating him alive and now he had lost his arm.
In all, the day had been a like riding a wild dragon.
From what you could tell it was past midnight. And you could think of nothing better than trying to put yourself to sleep. It hadn’t taken much too. As your head hit the pillow and darkness engulfed you.
You had been sleeping deeply and peacefully. The tiring and stressed moments of the wedding had lulled you like an infant after having drunk a tummy full of milk.
You could not understand what it was that had woken you up. You felt hot. Surely it wasn’t winter and days in King’s Landing were hot sometimes but not so much to cause her such bother. Though it was not enough to cause you to get out of your sleepy reverie.
You let out a whine when you felt something moving over you leg and your shoulder, making you pull your leg away and shake your shoulder to put whatever was causing you discomfort away. The point between your legs felt wet, making you a bit worried about your moon blood but you were too far gone in sleep to care.
It was the wine you had drank like water before going to sleep. Curse the fucking thing.
It was a sound, something like a chimes that hit each other when wind flowed, that made you snap out of our daze a little bit. You forced you eyes your to open as much as they could which wasn’t a lot. You were drunk and sleepy. But you could recognise that voice and figure even in your blurred sight.
“Kepus?”
Daemon smiles at you. There were very few people who had seen him really smile genuinely. You were one of them. But this smile was different. There was something different about it. You couldn’t comprehend it.
Daemon hushed you, his hand softly laying you back again, It was then when you slowly started to come to sense. He was hovering over you and you felt his other hand between your legs, right on your...
“Kepus, what are you doing?” You almost shrieked, understanding what was going on, “Kepus, what—"
“Be quiet, sweet girl,” Daemon whispered, and leaned down, his lips falling on your cheeks, so, so close to your lips. His fingers circling your cunny, a place that was not supposed to be bare to anyone but your husband. “You didn’t want to be a pawn, right?”
“But-but Daemon—” whatever you were thinking of saying was long forgotten when you felt his his finger entering you, your breath hitched at the foreign sensation. “We shouldn’t.” You whispered, you weren’t sure if you had spoken it or if it was in your mind only.
“And why?” His voice low, you felt as if you were speaking of some centuries old secret with him. “I promised you that I wouldn’t let you be married just like this. I will keep my promise, sweet niece.”
“Daemon,” you whispered, your denial was dying on your lips with him adding another finger in you, his thumb rolling around your nub and his lips on your neck. He hummed and those were the sweetest vibration you had ever felt on your skin, a shiver passing from the junction of your neck and shoulder to your core. Some cold wind had not caused this. This you know. It was him, your kepus who did this.
Your hands went to his shoulders, bare shoulders, he did not have his tunic on. Your skin touching his warm one. He was always warm. Like a dragon. “Please,” you gasped feeling his fingers go deep in you and you squeezed his shoulders.
His fingers moved faster in you, his teeth biting at your ear, “Is this what you are asking, sweetling?”
If only you knew what you wanted. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to let go of this feeling. “Yes-fuck-kepus!” You moaned feeling his fingers curl in you. And then another on being added.
“Don’t worry,” Daemon kissed your forehead, and you realised how really small you were in front of his tall stature. Even laying he could easily reach you forehead when his fingers were far down. “Kepus will take care of. Always.”
You knew he would. Mayhap, it was that fact that you had not called out for someone.
You felt your lower abdomen clenched, you weren’t sure it was. It felt as if someone was pulling at it but from inside. And somehow it felt good too. “Kepus, Kepus, there...”
“I know, sweet girl,” his fingers moved in you even more faster, and that was all you could feel. “Let go. Just let go.”
His thumb softly pressed on your nub and you gasped.
Something washed over you, something ecstatic. You felt free. Just like when you were on dragon back.
You panted, feeling as if you were knocked out of breath. Maybe you were. You look at Daemon, as he softly pulls his fingers out of you, putting them in his mouth, you couldn’t help the heat on your face when you remembered that it was your arousal that he was happily sucking off his fingers.
You looked at him in daze, everything seemed hazy for a few moments. Daemon leaned over you, his knuckles brushing your cheeks before his lips dropped on yours.
They were surprisingly soft, you had always imagined him having a hard touch but here he was, touching you as if you were made of glass, that you would break at the slight wrong caress. You felt his tongue on your lips, and you opened, letting his soft muscle of his mouth melt into yours.
You let him do what he wished to for some moments, unaware of what you were supposed to do but it didn’t take you long to catch up and you moved your tongue against his, you felt losing breath by every moment though nothing seemed to matter. It was heaven where Daemon was taking you. And you did not want to fall down from there.
“Fuck!” You heard Daemon curse as he parted from you, and his lips fell on your jaw and something hard rubbing your core. Your hips bucked up, unconsciously and you moaned. “Stop doing that, sweet girl,” Daemon spoke, his lips were moving down and down from your jaw to your neck, his hands pushing the sleeves of your slip down, his mouth leaving wet trails between your breast.
“kepus,” you were too lost. Your uncle looked like one of those Gods of Old Valyria. So beautiful, his burnt skin like stars on the dark sky. Your hands wrapped around his arms, feeling his full strong muscles, your finger traced the healed wounds, you felt your inside twist and turn. “kepus,”
Daemon pulled away, his eyes were dark, almost pitch black, he was sat between your legs. When did that happen you weren’t aware. You chest heaved as you took each breath greedily and watched his hands moving to his breeches’ laces, pulling them and he shed off them off. You eyes were on him, whole of him and your breath hitched.
So lost in the sight of him you didn’t know when he came back and kissed you, until his cock rubbed into you and you moaned. “Kepus,”
“Shh. It’s alright.” He whispered, his hips moved, you could feel him even when he wasn’t inside you. “Fucking hells, you are wet. You want this just much, don’t you?”
You didn’t get to answer him, feeling his head on your entrance, at this moment.
“This will hurt, sweetling.” Daemon kissed your forehead, his hands brushed your cheeks and hair just like when he wanted to comfort you at any peril of your. “but it will become better. I will make it all better.” And with that he pushed inside you, slowly, and you felt yourself stretching around him as he moved in slow, sucking in breath sharply and curses leaving his mouth, all faded to you.
He wasn’t lying when he said to would hurt. “kepus,” Your nails dug into his shoulders and he kissed your cheek with caressing your head all the while.
“Good girl, such a sweet girl, taking my cock so nicely.” You could hear his groans loud and clear even when he was speaking softly and slowly. “so tight, so firm. But you will take it, won’t you?”
You didn’t answer but hid your face in his neck, tightening your hold on him. You felt tore apart, yet you didn’t want to let go. “so big, kepus,” you whispered as he continued to bottom himself inside you and he kissed your neck saying words of praises.
It felt like hours when he stopped, Daemon by then had bit on your neck several times, you felt as if you’d had bled, but there was no worry about it. He won’t hurt you. You knew.
“Open your eyes, love,” He whispered and you did, he was just a hair width away from you and you could look at his eyes so clearly, his pools of lilac, light than that was your. You wished to have his eyes in your childhood.
He kissed you again and you kissed back. You couldn’t have enough of his mouth on yours, the taste of yourself and the wine mixed in both of your mouth was so sweet to you.
“Come to Dragonstone with me,” His forehead touched yours. Both of you were breathing each other in, “Take me to husband and I will take to you wife, in tradition of our house. You won’t be like her. Ever.”
You won’t be like her, he said. And you knew he was true to his words. He will be. He will not. Not like Alicent.
Not like her.
“Avy jorraelan, Kepus.” I love you, uncle.
Daemon smiled. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen in your life. “Avy jorraelan, donus rinus.” I love you, sweet girl.
Daemon moved in you, slow at first, so deep, you moaned at each stroke, every time his hips met yours, you couldn’t help but cry out first in discomfort and then in pleasure.
His lips descended upon your breast, taking your nubs in his mouth, he suckled at one like a babe hungry for their mother’s milk, his other hand playing with your other and his hips pushing into yours. You couldn’t hear anything but his grunt and groans and your moans and whimper.
Daemon held your legs, putting them around his waist. If you thought he was deep before, he was reaching way inside you.
“This cunt, your cunt was made for me, sweet girl. Look how good it take me. Even when you were asleep. Getting wet for me. It knows it’s mine. You know that too, don’t you?” you ought to feel humiliated and offended at such words. Being owned by some was not something you liked. But the way Daemon said it only made you clench harder around him making him groan, “fuck, yes. Yes, you do.”
“Yes. Yes, Kepus.” You whimpered at his fast pace inside you. Lost in the world of pleasure you were, you couldn’t hold your noises anymore. But of course you uncle would remedy it for you, putting his lips on yours, drinking every single sound in which left your mouth.
You clenched, your hands in his hair, pulling at them, feeling the tugging feeling as before in you. Daemon knew it all well.
“Going to give you my seed and you will swell with our child, sweet,” Daemon muttered in your ear. You felt yourself liking the prospect. Even imagining it in your head as your uncle rutted in you.
Our child.
“Yes”, you nodded, kissing his neck, “a babe, Kepus. With your eyes. I love your eyes.”
“Whatever, my sweet girl wants.” He grunted and you clenched on him again.
“Fuck, kepus.” You moaned, you were sure by now you had scratched his back bloody. “I... I feel it. It hurts.”
“I know, sweetling,” he muttered, “Let go. Just like before. Let it go.”
It wasn’t long you felt the same bliss wash over you and you felt warmth fill you in. Daemon’s seed, you knew it was as you both panted. Daemon stopped moving inside you after a few more strokes, but he did not pull out. He lowered himself to your bed and pulled you on him.
You rested your head on his chest, some silver hair, rubbing against your cheek, you took in the scent of his sweat, his skin glistening under the moonlight that fell in your room.
You felt him pull the sheet over the both of you, his hand running over your hair and exhaustion began to take over you. Your eyes drooped but you kept blinking the sleep away.
“Sleep,” Daemon kissed your head and you fell asleep just as quick as you had woken up, you hands wounded around his neck.
You prayed it not to be a dream.
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Hell Hath No Fury | Aemond Targaryen
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Request: Yes
Summary: Aemond has become distant and you find out why.
Warning: blood, miscarriage, cheating, assault
Hell Hath No Fury Masterlist
You couldn't believe it.
He was the good brother, the dutiful son, the valiant knight... the faithful husband. There was no way that your Aemond wouldn't do this to you. 
This explains why he was traveling so often to Harrenhal away from you for so long when you needed him the most, you thought as you rubbed your swollen belly staring at the piece of paper in your hand. 
He had gotten that whore pregnant, and from the letter it seemed you two were both soon to give birth.  
Alys Rivers, the strong Bastard, the Witch...Yet another thing you two had in common, maybe your husband had a type.
This was it. the beginning of the end. If Alys Rivers gave birth to that child there is nothing that would stop her from coming to court, having her child legitimized, having Aemond take her as a mistress, bringing shame and embarrassment upon you and your child.
No.
"Push princess, push." The midwife needlessly instructed as someone wiped the sweat from your brow. 
"I do appreciate your help and respect and acknowledge that you have helped bring many royals into this world so please forgive me when I say, 'please shut the fuck up and let me concentrate." You yelled back as you took two deep breaths before closing your eyes and letting your head fall backwards. 
Opening your eyes again you see your in a hallway standing in front of a door, you can still hear the midwives telling you to push. placing your hand in the door you push it open slowly as you see the sight of Alys Rivers and Aemond in bed together. 
His arm is wrapped around her, as they are both naked it isn't hard to guess what it was that had made them so tired. Walking into the room you hear the door close behind you just as you stand right above them. As if sensing your presence Alys' eyes snap open and stare up at you. 
She opens her mouth to wake Aemond before you stop her. 
"Don't bother calling out, her can't hear us." You informed her reaching for his arm and throwing it away from her causing his to shift in his sleep and turn over. "No one can. From the look on your face I can tell you know exactly who I am, which is amusing considering I knew nothing of you a moon ago."
"I know this must be upsetti-."
"No! You don't because you are not his wife, you are not the one he married and swore loyalty to only to turn around and impregnate some whore." You sneered at her as she flinched back. "What was your plan? to take my husband, become and mistress, you seek to replace me and my child?" You asked as she simply shook her head in denial. 
"It was never meant to happen like this, but I love Aemond and he loves me, I'm sorry that you are hurt by this but that is the truth of it. I never thought I would be able to have children but this is a gift that Aemond has given to me and we both are thankful to be having it, but that does not mean he is any less thankful for your child and I promise you that I mean no harm to your life, marriage or the life of your child."  Alys rushed to explain. Taking a moment you look on at this women in bed with your husband and think of her words.
"Words....are not enough." You say before Alys' body is forced down into the bed. Leaning over her you pulled the sheets from her body exposing her milky skin to the cold air. 
"What are you doing?" Alys asked as she struggled against the invisible force. 
"Don't worry I am simply righting a wrong," You informed her as you pulled a knife from your dress. "The child that grows inside of you belongs to my husband"  You continue as you placed the blade to her belly.
"No! Please no." Alys pleads as she fight to get away from you. "I'm beg you please. I have wronged you I admit but my child is innocent, Aemond's child is innocent." 
"I know." You say before plunging the knife into her womb as she lets out a blood curtailing scream. Once the cut was made you reached inside of her wound ignoring the blood and cries of the women as you pull the child from her body. Cradling the child in your arm you softly coo to the child as Alys lets out another round of sobs. "Please do not morn for the child will live, but it will be birthed by me, as should all children of my husband." 
Turning and walking away the door slowly creaks back open allowing you to walk back into the hall. "Though I am very thankful for this gift you and my husband have given to me Alys, I trust it will be the last one" You say before the door closes once again. 
"Just one more push my princess." You left you head once again over come with the pain of child birth. "Here it comes." After one more push the room is filled with the cries of your child. 
"A prince, you have given birth to a prince." The midwife announced moving to retrieve a blanket for the newborn. She began to hand you your child before you leaned forward and let out a painful groan. "The afterbirth."
another midwife crouched between your leg as you groan in pain. "No there is a head, there is another babe." She informed sending the room into another round of panic as you were instructed again to push.
"Another prince." She soon declares as the second child begins to cry. 
 Cradling both babes in your arms you look down at the two clearly Targaryen princes with a small smile, Alicent entered the room quickly making it to your side "Aemon and  Armon." You names them as she looks to her grandchildren made my her favorite son. 
***
It had been three days since Aemond woke to Alys' screams, the sheets around her covered in blood as she cradled her stomach. The maesters said it was a miscarriage, but Alys insisted that it wasn't, when Aemond tried to comfort her she yelled for him to leave her and refused to be near him. After the second day of trying he chose to return to Kingslanding where is was notified that his wife had given birth to twin boys. 
Entering the chambers he sees his wife cooing at the two newborns laying on their bed. Turning towards your husband your eyes widen. "Aemond, I thought you were Beth to assist me with taking the twins to midday meal, the family wished to meet them." 
"Well I am sorry to disappoint you," Aemond teased walking closer to the bed. "But I promise I can try to be as good as Beth until she arrives." 
"Oh stop." You laughed a bit before letting out a sigh. "Actually I am glad that you are here, I wanted to speak with you."
"What is it you wish to speak of?" He asked rubbing his knuckle along Aemon's face.
"I know that this marriage started as an arrangement, but I understand that at the time we both believed that we become fond of each other and perhaps even love, and I thought that we had begun to share these feeling but I realize that I can not hold you to promises we made as children." You now had his full attention. "And if it is what you want, I will not fight you on seeking annulment."
"You have been distant and it was not until the twins were born that I realize just how distant you've become, we used to spend time together, reading, painting, laughing but I gave birth for the first time and my husband was not to be found." You explained. "I do not blame you for not returning my feeling or for pulling away but I can't live thinking that I'm driving you from your home or thinking that this distance between us will affect our children." 
"Please," Aemond says grabbing your hand and kneeling at your side. "Your feeling are returned I swear it to you, my distance is of no fault of your own."
"Then what is it?" You pleaded looking into his eyes. "I wish for you to be there for our children, for them to love and be moved by you. You once told me you didn't want to be like your father, I do not want this either."
Looking into your eyes Aemond knew he couldn't tell you the reason, he knew it would break your heart and he couldn't do that to you not after you had just given him two son, not ever. "It matters not, It will never happen again." He assures giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I will not be the father viserys was to me and I will not be the husband he was to my mother. You three are my life and I will spend every second to assure that you know it. 
"My princess It is time for your midday meal with your family." Beth informed entering the chambers.
"Thank you Beth would you please hold Aemon and I will take Armon you instruct as Aemond stands and helps you from the bed. Standing and walking towards the door you asked Beth to please walk ahead of you. "I thank you for hearing me Aemond and I do hope this isn't asking to much but I also must ask something else of you." 
Aemond nodded as he rubs his hand up and down your back in comfort. 
"I wish for this to be a pleasant occasion so I must ask you not fight with Jace and Luke, though it seems you have grown quite fond of Strong bastards as of late." You say before walking ahead leaving his frozen in the door way of the room.  
Part Two
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behind the scenes of house of the dragon
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why are they all so pretty
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maidragoste · 5 months
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was your meme w the daemon au about the oneshot where she married him to avoid marrying viserys? because i would LOVE to know how people reacted when daemon (i assume it would be daemon) sends a message to viserys - 🩵
Hi Anon 💖, sorry for the delay in responding but I was actually writing something totally different but I saw your question and Viserys' reaction came to mind so I started writing haha
btw, I thought this would be shorter
I hope you enjoy it 🥰🥰💖💖
I recommend people read "The Decision" first to better understand this
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At first, when barely an hour had passed since you had disappeared on the back of your dragon, your family had not worried, thinking that perhaps you had lost track of time while flying. It wouldn't be the first time that happens. But then it got dark and you still didn't show up. The worst thing was that Viserys wanted to dine with you in his chambers. Corlys excused your absence by sending your maid to tell the King that you were feeling ill. Rhaenys was furious with her husband for not telling Viserys that you were missing, if the king asked for it then everyone would look for you but Corlys didn't seem to care about your safety, he seemed more worried that Viserys would think that you had escaped to avoid marrying him. Of course, your father couldn't hide your absence for long. Somehow Otto Hightower had found out about your disappearance and reported it to the king.
The next day the entire council was gathered and the king's fury at having been kept secret from the disappearance of his fiancée was evident. Rhaenyra listened worriedly as her father asked Lord Velaryon for explanations. She feared that you had made a drastic decision to run away, her heart ached just thinking that you had left without saying goodbye first.
Corlys didn't even have the chance to excuse himself and make up some story about actually knowing your whereabouts when a maester interrupted the room. The Grand Master was already about to scold him when the youngest reported that a letter had arrived with the seal of House Targaryen. Viserys instantly ordered the parchment to be given to him, knowing that it must be a letter from his brother.
Everyone watched in silence as the king's face became redder and redder as he read the parchment. “Daemon took her as his second wife,” he announced as he twisted the letter into a bun in annoyance.
Rhaenyra felt her heart skip a beat and had to hold onto the table to keep from losing her balance. You were supposed to run away or find a way to break off the engagement, not get married. The worst thing is that you married her uncle. It was unfair that he could have you but she couldn't. If only she had been brave enough to tell you how she felt but she was a coward and she settled for your friendship. She settled for pretending that you were hers every time the two of you walked hand in hand through the hallways or when she exchanged her rings with yours as if it were some declaration of love.
“Poor Lady Y/n, Prince Daemon surely took advantage of her,” said the king's hand with mock regret. Corlys was not blind like Viserys so he could see how Otto Hightower was forcing himself not to smile. He should be the only attempt with this situation, now with you out of the way he could push his daughter Alicent again so that she could get the king's attention and thus make her queen.
“You can annul their marriage,” said the princess, drawing everyone's attention to the obvious desperation and pain in her voice. Years later, different versions of the reason for Rhaenyra's despair circulated in history books. Some would say it was because she was in love with her uncle. Others would say that you were actually the owner of her affections.
“The king can no longer marry Lady Y/n. Not now that Prince Daemon…”Lyonel Strong trailed off, trying to think of a not-so-shocking word to finish with.
“He ruined her,” Otto continued.
“You're talking about my daughter, watch your mouth!” Corlys demanded furiously, hitting his palm against the table. Lyonel had wanted to avoid exactly this.
Rhaenyra also glared at the king's hand. She hated that he had used that word to describe you but I can't help but think that maybe it was better that the lords thought that of you because then they wouldn't want to marry you. Her father would annul your marriage, you would come home to her and she would never have to worry about someone else trying to steal you from her.
“They married under Valyrian customs. It may not be valid in the eyes of faith but in my eyes, it is” declared the king. Besides, he wasn't going to annul your marriage and then marry you. It would be humiliating. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with a wife who didn't love him. You had made it more than clear in the letter. He couldn't be mad at you, not when you had apologized for not telling him how you really felt sooner, had told him that you appreciated him but couldn't imagine loving him the way you love his brother, and that you thought he deserved a wife who truly loved him. Still, he was furious with his brother because he had taken advantage of you, it didn't matter that in the letter you said that Daemon didn't force you into anything and that it was your decision to marry, Viserys was sure that Daemon didn't love you, that he had only taken you as a wife to annoy him, as revenge for making Rhaenyra his heir.
“I am very sorry for my daughter's actions, your Grace,” Corlys apologized almost through his teeth. He was furious with Viserys for being so weak. Another man would have instantly annulled the marriage and gone to find his bride but he was not surprised by the king's attitude considering that he had been more interested in planning the wedding than in putting an action plan for the situation that was occurring on the Stepstones
He was so furious with you too. If before Viserys was not interested in the Stepstones, now with you breaking your engagement even less so. He couldn't believe you did this to him. He thought he raised you better. You could have made the Velaryons go down in history by giving the king a son but you ruined everything.
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Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works
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fragileheartbeats · 1 month
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Can you please post again about how Targaryen men look?
Sure!
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shadow-emerald-gold · 2 years
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The Queen's Gambit
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pairing: Fanon!Viserys Targaryen x Female OC
summary: Vanesha Lannister will not rest until she reaches her goal.
Word count: 1,7K
Warnings: Smut, P in V, squirting
Masterlist 1
Masterlist 2
The Red Keep stood tall, its imposing towers casting shadows over the city of King's Landing. Within its walls, a game of power and ambition unfolded, and at the center of it all was Vanesha Lannister.
She was a woman of intelligence and cunning, possessing a beauty that could captivate even the most resolute of men. But her true strength lay in her ability to identify weaknesses and exploit them. Viserys I Targaryen, the King of Westeros, was her latest prey.
As Vanesha walked through the gilded corridors of the Red Keep, her mind churned with calculated thoughts. She knew of Viserys' insatiable desire for sons, heirs to carry on the Targaryen legacy. It was a vulnerability she intended to exploit to the fullest.
In the candlelit chambers, she found Viserys engrossed in his own thoughts. His brow furrowed as he stared at a map of Westeros, contemplating the future of his dynasty. He looked up as Vanesha entered, and for a moment, his expression softened.
"Vanesha," he said, his voice laced with a longing he could barely conceal. "You look as radiant as ever."
Vanesha smiled, a calculated glint in her sapphire eyes. She moved closer to him, her movements graceful and deliberate. "My lord, I've been thinking," she began, her voice a velvet whisper. "Have you noticed how few daughters my family has produced over the years? It's always sons, strong sons to carry the name of Lannister."
Viserys, ever the dreamer of male heirs, nodded eagerly. "Yes, I've heard the tales. The Lannisters are blessed with sons, while the Targaryens..."
Vanesha's hand gently touched his arm, a subtle caress that sent a shiver down Viserys' spine. "It's a trait that runs in my blood, my lord. And I would be honored to provide you with the sons you so dearly desire."
Viserys' eyes widened, his vulnerability laid bare. It was a promise he had longed to hear, and Vanesha knew she had him ensnared. The courtship began, a dance of seduction and manipulation, and Viserys was utterly captivated.
Years passed, and Vanesha became Viserys' confidante and advisor. Her beauty remained undiminished, even after childbirth, as she presented him with not one, but three sons. The King was besotted, his every decision influenced by the woman who had fulfilled his dreams.
In the shadows of the Red Keep, Vanesha Lannister's ambition thrived, and Viserys I Targaryen remained a willing puppet, unaware of the strings that bound him to her will.
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"Gods yes" Vanesha's head fell back, pure pleasure coursing through her body. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.
"Viserys please" Vanesha moaned out loud. her thighs burned from the position. Viserys smirked watching her bounce on his cock, she looked like a goddess, his cock so deep inside of her, filling her.
"Take it" Viserys ordered, grunting as he pushed his hips up to meet her thrusts. Vanesha felt her whole body beginning to tremble with the orgasm coursing through her fighting to come forward.
"So close" She cried. her arms wrapped around his neck yelping when he moved. Her whines made his heart thump as he pulled out of her hole.
"Whore" Viserys smirked. he manhandled her body to move her to kneel on the bed. He pushed her down on her hands before entering her again.
"Viserys!" She squeaked, desperate to cum again. Viserys' hips snapped forward into her, burying his entire length inside. He felt delicious, so deep inside of her. He had already pulled an orgasm from her earlier with his lips merely suckling on her breast, emptying them helping her with the ache from not breast feeding their newest addition, Jahaerys, their son was being fed by the wet nurse while Vanesha finished her queenly duties.
"Yes, you like to be filled up, don't you?" Viserys asked. He never felt anymore power than he did with his cock deep inside of her cunt.
"Yes fill me up, give me a child" Vanesha whined, she pushed her hips back wanting him deeper. One of her hands sneaked in between her thighs, rubbing her pearl furiously.
"Cumming" She warned, Viserys picked up his pace. Vanesha's eyes rolled back with pure pleasure. She gasped when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her back.
"Viserys" She moaned, her back falling on his chubby belly. Her head rested back on his shoulder giving him access to kiss up and down her neck. He pushed her hand away and took over rubbing her clit.
She wiggled in his arm with overstimulation, he was adamant on making her cum having heard that when a woman cums there are higher chances to conceive. After the orgasm he gave her from suckling on her breasts he moved down to suckle on the same clit he was rubbing like a mad man, she made him a mad man and he was happy with it.
"Shit" She wailed hoarsly, her whole body falling forward, the knot in her stomach snapping making her gush around Viserys' cock. Viserys watched proudly as his wife's body trembled under him but refusing to push his cock out, her hips moving back unconsciously keeping him inside.
Vanesha shivered as Viserys ran his hands up and down her side to comfort her. She moved back on her hands and looked back over her shoulder at Viserys with a dazed smile. Viserys grinned in return and resumed the movement of his hips.
"I shall make sure your womb is filled to the brim with my seed tonight" Viserys declared. One of his hands moved onto her lower belly and pressed down on it. Vanesha gasped deliciously eating the pleasure he gave. She was ready to give him a millions sons.
"Don't stop" She begged, she was desperate. Viserys picked up his pace feeling his balls tighten, he was close.
"Fill me with your royal seed" Vanesha begged. She was going to give him more children, she was going to choke him with them, she was going to rule him with them.
Viserys' head fell back, her soaked pussy was just right, he has never felt this kind of pleasure before. He wanted to devour her if possible. His thick finger rand down till they reached down between her legs pinching her pearl again.
Vanesha's cried echoed off the the walls losing herself to the pleasure. Each touch made her skin light up on fire. Viserys collected her wetness and moved his hand up to her face. Vanesha opened her mouth welcoming his fingers into her mouth, moaning loudly when she tasted herself on his fingers.
"Good breeding mare" Viserys praised. Vanesha almost fainted right then and there at his words. She sucked his fingers as if they were his cock.
"Viserys" Vanesha moaned around his fingers. He pushed her tongue down, moaning when she swirled it around his fingers.
"Fucking hell, will fill you up with another son" He gasped quickening his thrusts. Vanesha thrashed in between his arms. he pulled out his fingers from her mouth with a pop. Vanesha cried now moans on full volume with nothing blocking them from coming out of her mouth.
She thrashed and cried and pushed back and forward, her orgasm was like fire, her back arched like the one of a cat as she squirted. Viserys pushed his cock inside of her as deep as possible making sure to shoot his seed as deep inside of her as possible, not to waste a singular drop even when he walls resisted him, even when her liquids tried to push him out.
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The birth of their fourth son, Aeryn, marked another significant moment in Vanesha Lannister's plan for power and influence within House Targaryen. She had already achieved the unimaginable - securing her position as the mother of four sons, each of them a potential heir to the Iron Throne.
As Aeryn's cries echoed through the halls of the Red Keep, Vanesha held the newborn close, her mind racing with thoughts of the future. She had successfully given Viserys the sons he so desired, and now her attention turned to the next phase of her ambitious scheme.
In the privacy of their chambers, she broached the topic with the king, her voice gentle yet persuasive. "My love," she began, "I cannot help but think of the future of our sons. Aegon, our eldest, is a true heir in every sense. Strong and capable, he embodies the qualities of a future king."
Viserys, who had longed for male heirs, listened intently. "You speak the truth, Vanesha. Aegon is a fine boy, and I'm proud to call him my son."
Encouraged by his response, Vanesha continued, her words carefully chosen. "Rhaenyra is a remarkable girl, but it's well known that sons are favored in the realm. Aegon should be our heir, my love. It's the best way to secure the future of House Targaryen."
Viserys hesitated, torn between tradition and the desires of his heart. "Rhaenyra is my daughter," he replied, his voice filled with paternal affection.
Vanesha placed a reassuring hand on his arm, her eyes filled with concern. "I understand your love for her, my king. But we must consider the stability of the realm. Aegon is the strongest choice, and he would have the support of many lords and allies."
Viserys contemplated her words, his gaze fixed on the newborn Aeryn. He had always dreamed of strong sons to carry on the Targaryen legacy, and now he had them. The idea of naming Aegon as his heir, instead of Rhaenyra, held a certain appeal.
Vanesha continued to work her persuasive charm, planting the seeds of doubt in Viserys' mind regarding Rhaenyra's suitability as an heir. She knew that, with time, she could mold his thoughts to align with her ambitions.
As the days turned into weeks and months, Vanesha's influence grew, and the idea of Aegon as the heir to the Iron Throne gained traction. Viserys, still enamored with his sons, began to entertain the possibility.
Little did he know that his queen, Vanesha Lannister, was orchestrating a quiet revolution, one that could alter the course of history in Westeros. The future of House Targaryen hung in the balance, and the queen's ambitions knew no bounds.
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The Good Queen (Part 3)
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(Gif not mine)
Fandom: House of the Dragon
Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)
Tag: hotd the good queen
Warning: Fluff. Angst. Time-skip. Happy ending. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Blood & Gore. Grusome death.
Word Count: 7,011
Taglist: @gruffle1​ 
Summary: A look into Queen Y/n Hightower’s life is busy and full of love and family. But something else lingers in the dark, waiting for her.
Author’s Note: Laena still dies but under different circumstances and Aemond claims Vhagar honorably. Rhaena and Baela do not exist so everyone is proud of Aemond by his accomplishment and he doesn’t steal the right to Vhagar from anyone.
Part One - Part Two
(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)
130 AC
So much to do with so little time to enjoy the beautiful day, Queen Y/n Hightower makes her rounds about the castle after breaking her fast. As usual, she walks gracefully down the long hallways and winding staircases, entering the throne room to extend her greetings to her husband before starting her day. She climbs the stairs to the Iron Throne and leaves a kiss on Viserys lips before briefly exchanging their morning agendas. As usual, they speak mostly of their children. The Queen speaks of the planned events for Helaena's upcoming name day while the King mentions the many lords who have reached out to him to ask for Helaena's hand. Y/n appeared hesitant but further asked her husband to send these letters up to her chambers when he has the chance so she might look into these suitors as well.
"They may try to woo her during the celebration," he warns her lightheartedly, "Best to warn her so she is not overwhelmed."
"I shall," Y/n stands from her seat on Viserys' knee, cupping his face in her hand before she makes her departure, "I'll see you at supper."
"Hm. I'm afraid I have to take supper in the Small Council meeting tonight," the King smiles apologetically, "But you are welcome to join. I could use your sharp eyes on the matter of the meeting."
"Not tonight," Y/n sighs at the idea of another council meeting. They appear to be more crucial than naught these days, "If it would please you, my love, allow me to rummage through all the letters of liege lords addressing Helaena's hand. I'll invite Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent for supper tonight in my apartments and use their opinions to narrow down the pool of suitors."
"Excellent idea," Viserys beamed, quickly grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles before she could turn away, "I wish you luck."
She descends the Iron Throne and exits the throne room, nodding to her ladies-in-waiting when she found them still in the spot where she had left them. They dutifully follow her as she expertly navigates through the long hallways of the castle, bowing her head and smiling whenever someone stopped and bowed to her in greeting. She stops in the training yard before all else and immediately spots Ser Criston Cole overseeing a training session between Aegon the Elder and his cousin, Jacaerys Strong. She glides down the steps and makes her way to the sworn shield, "What shall they be learning today, Ser Criston?"
"Mostly defensive maneuvers, Your Grace," Cole bows, but is unable to draw his eyes away from the fight in case he missed something, "Aegon has improved since his return from Oldtown. Do give your lord father my compliments. Whoever he had training the boy during his stay must have been quite exceptional."
"I shall," she finds herself repeating a second time, to her inner amusement. Her shoulders began to feel tight with the reminder of Otto Hightower.
When he first started writing letters to his eldest daughter, it was to reach out and learn about his grandchildren. Y/n should have felt relief to learn that her father was wanting to mend their relationship. Instead, she only felt this cold dread in her heart when she learned that he had only written to her and not to Alicent, who was also his daughter and had given him an equal number of grandchildren. Y/n tried to be courteous and kind to her father in any returning letter she sent, and yet each one he replied with felt more like a stone crushing her against the sea bed, despite feeling the light weight of the paper in her hands. Eventually, Lord Otto requested to host his oldest grandchild, Aegon, in Oldtown. His reasoning was for personal reasons only; to make up for lost time and congratulate Aegon on becoming a man. Otto also stated that perhaps it would be good for both Aegon and Daeron to reunite again as brothers. Y/n had hesitated before finally agreeing, despite the memories she had of her father when Aegon was first born. She remembered Lord Otto trying to force her hand, telling her how to raise her sweet, innocent son into becoming a king.
She gave her father the benefit of the doubt. That had been years ago and she agreed that Aegon deserved to see his little brother again, her own ache to see Daeron the deciding factor on this arrangement. She sent Aegon to Oldtown, promising him that it would only be for the season. Her inner demons wished to demand her eldest child to steal Daeron away as well, but forced the words down and bury them as she hugged Aegon tightly. Now Aegon has finally returned -and not with Daeron- just before Helaena's name day. The Queen watched her son easily defend himself against Lord Jacaerys' advances, feeling proud and yet in turmoil over how mature he's become. Her children really were growing up before her eyes.
She nods to Ser Criston, "I'm sure he would be proud to hear you say that, ser knight. Excuse me."
"Your Grace."
Next, she makes her way to the gardens, taking a moment to stand in the warm sunlight with the soft breeze brushing through her hair like a loving touch. The Queen takes her time winding through the maze of flowers and trimmed hedges until she comes across the gazebo stationed at the center of all the plants. Her sister, Lady Alicent Strong, is seated under the shade of the gazebo, Little Aegon in her lap while Little Viserys crawls around at her feet, her hand gently grazing the woman sitting beside her.
Princess Rhaenyra, heavily pregnant with her third child, is the first to notice Y/n when she neared the gazebo, and smiles at her stepmother, "Good morning, Your Grace."
Alicent looks up and immediately finds Y/n, only pulling her hand away from Rhaenyra when she noticed the Queen's handmaidens trailing behind her. Y/n nods as she approached the two women, "It certainly is, Princess," her fingers briefly push a strand of Alicent's hair out of her face before leaning down and kissing her cheek in greeting, "Ali. Jacaerys is faring well in his training, I see."
"If only he was doing well in his studies," Alicent quips with a gentle smile as she stares up at her elder sister, who takes Aegon from her arms and rests him on her hip, "What brings you here?"
"I am here to invite the two of you to a private supper tonight," Y/n tickles Aegon the Younger under his chin, smiling as he squealed with laughter, though it doesn't reach her eyes as she spoke of her troubles, "I have letters from various lords of the realm who wish to wed Helaena and I could use your help reading through them all, as well as getting a second and third opinion."
"Of course," Alicent beams, although Rhaenyra doesn't seem as thrilled.
"Helaena is still too young to be thinking about marriage," she immediately replies, a frown cutting through her beautiful Valyrian features. She is distracted by her thoughts, however, when Little Viserys pulls himself up onto his chubby feet using her skirts. Her hand brushes his silver hair back, the toddler cooing under her attention.
"She's near one-and-twenty, Rhaenyra," Y/n appeared downcast, even as she smiled down at her stepdaughter and squeezed her shoulder in comfort, "You were even younger. We all were. We've been holding this back for long enough. We can't keep her forever."
The Queen knelt down to the princess' round stomach, peering up at Rhaenyra with an encouraging twinkle in her eye, "Besides, pretty soon you'll have a daughter of your own to fret over."
Rhaenyra faintly smiled, running a hand over her stomach even as clouds formed in her eyes. She had always wanted a sister and finally got what she wanted when her father married Y/n and they bore Helaena. Rhaenyra was always so protective of her little half-sister, even more so than the brothers, "You speak in confidence. And yet Alicent believes I'm having a boy."
"You look no different than when you carried Little Aegon and Viserys," Alicent comments in defense of her opinion when Y/n glanced over to her.
"We'll make wages tonight then, at dinner," Y/n smirked at her sister, briefly glancing back at Rhaenyra and winking. The Queen sets Aegon down next to his brother and stands up straight again, nodding to the other two, "Until then, my sweets."
"Good day, Your Grace," Rhaenyra chimes while Y/n disappears from the gazebo, her ladies keeping their heads low as they follow her.
She trails through the gardens with her usual company in tow, wishing to waste a little time if it meant she could enjoy the lovely, quiet day. That is until the peace is suddenly interrupted by the loud, high-pitched laughter of a small child. Looking around, Her Grace tried pinpointing the laughter, which now followed shouts of disapproval, until she discovers Little Joffrey Strong, the small boy running through the gardens while being chased by his septa, dark curls bouncing as he sprinted. Y/n laughs under her breath and decides not to intervene, knowing that not even she could save her little nephew from his strict teacher. The Queen shushes her handmaids when they all began to giggle at the sight, and with a smile, directs them to exit the gardens quietly until they are out of sight of the poor, winded, septa. The ladies all bow to their queen and go on about their day, leaving Y/n alone to her thoughts as she walks back into the castle.
The library is the next stop on her to-do list, allowing the guards to open the heavy doors for her before entering the grand room, full of books from top to ceiling. However, she didn't find herself alone as she originally thought. At the nearest table were none other than her son, Aemond and Lucerys Strong, playing a competitive game of cyvasse. Both young men look up at the sound of the library doors opening and stand to greet her when they recognized her face.
"Mother," Aemond thinly smiles, his eye lowering in respect.
"Who is winning?" She smirks as she glides across the floor to join them, her fingers pinching the sleeve of Aemond's tunic as she practically stood in the shadow of his tall form.
"Currently me, Your Grace," Luke's eyes sparkle mischievously, his smile only broadening when Aemond directs a small glare at him.
Y/n rolls her lips to try to retain the growing smile of amusement before crossing over to the board game, peering over either side of the divider so she can see both sides of their placements. Turning and walking away, she calls over her shoulder, "Careful, nephew. If he's smart, Aemond can defeat you in two moves."
She hears scuffling and squawks of surprise from behind her as she disappeared beyond the bookcases, smiling to herself. She travels through the small aisles between shelves until she finds what she's looking for, picking up a book to her liking and dusting off the worn cover. Tucking the leather book under her arm, she makes her way back through the maze of books until she stumbles across her son and nephew again. Y/n ruffles Luke's hair, earning another squawk of indignant from him and causing Aemond to hum in amusement under his breath, much similar to his mother. Y/n beams and walks out of the library and onto her next destination.
Walking back up the winding stairs to reach the floor of her daughter's chambers was an easy feat, having gone the same way for years since Helaena's birth. Today, however, Y/n's feet felt heavy as she inched closer to the princess' room. Her steps felt like lead by the time she reached her daughter's door, knocking and announcing herself before entering.
"My heart?" Y/n called into the room as she shut the door behind her.
Helaena had her knees up to her chest, lounging over her couch by the window, heavily focused on the embroidery in her hands. Y/n walked closer and recognized the pattern to be a dragonfly. The mother smiled as she goes to sit in the open space of her daughter's couch, relaxing her regal posture as she leaned back against the cushions, sighing in exhaustion as she watches Helaena work.
Their days together are often spent like this, in silence but in comfort. Helaena isn't fond of loud noises, touches, or even conversation, so Y/n respects her boundaries and tends not to force her daughter into such situations unless absolutely necessary. This is why guilt and shame settled uncomfortably in the Queen's gut, the weight of letters regarding a future husband for her lovely daughter heavy before Y/n could even read them herself. Even though she had not seen the letters in person yet, they still lingered in the back of her mind, dreading the conversation that will have to happen, and the celebrations of her name day that Helaena will have to attend.
"Has your uncle stopped by for your lessons?" Y/n suddenly asked, realizing that she had not seen Daemon at all this morning.
Helaena paused in her ministrations but continues to stare at her embroidery as she answered, "He left early. Kostōba vali emagon kostōba ondos." [Strong men have strong hands]
Though the Queen herself was not fluent in High Valyrian, she has spent enough time in the company of Daemon and Rhaenyra to catch a few words. Y/n tilts her head, suspicious, "Does 'kostōba' mean 'strong?'"
Helaena only nods as she continues her work, unaware of the playful roll of her eyes her mother presents. Y/n sinks further into the lounge chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. One of these days, she'll have to reprimand her brother-in-law for leaving his niece and depriving her of Valyrian lessons only so he could sneak off with Ser "Breakbones" Strong.
"My daughter's mother tongue should be more important than the need to stick your tongue down Ser Harwin's throat," Y/n could already hear her own lecture in her head, to which she can imagine Daemon's sly smirk gleaming down at her in response.
"Have you seen Ser Harwin's throat, dear sister?"
Y/n scoffs out loud and had the decency to appear bashful when she realized that Helaena had heard her. She flashed her daughter an apologetic smile when the princess looked up, but it slowly faded once Helaena looked back down, the Queen was sorely reminded of the main topic of today's events. Sighing, Y/n reached a hand out to Helaena, "My dear, may I touch you?"
Helaena immediately went stiff as a board, to which Y/n retracted her hand, "Okay, I'm sorry," she whispered, guilt now evident in her eyes, not that Helaena had noticed as she continues with her embroidery. It only made her mother feel worse, the woman who once loved her innocence but now felt saddened by it. Helaena is a woman grown now, and it was still hard for Y/n to wrap her head around. How can something so pure grow up so fast? Just trying to picture her daughter in the care of a man whom she has never met frightened her; haunted her even. Y/n, as Queen, understands that this is the way of things and no matter how hard she tried, there are just some things far beyond her control, like her daughter's impending marriage. It will happen eventually, whether Y/n Hightower likes it or not.
Originally, she came to Helaena to talk about these matters but decided she wanted her child to remain innocent just a little bit longer. Instead, Y/n set the book from the library down on the table across from the couch and slid it over to Helaena, "This was a book that I read years ago... before I married your father. It's about these rare butterflies native to the islands of Naath. They carry a disease that is deadly to anyone who isn't born and bred from their natural habitats," Y/n huffs in mirth, mostly to herself, "I remember that imagery kept me awake at night, but I thought this would be more to your liking."
Helaena had paused her embroidery upon her mother's explanation. The princess peers over to the book with faint interest and reaches out to caress the symbol of the butterfly engraved into the front cover, "Thank you, Mother."
Y/n beams, feeling her heart skip a beat at the sound of her most proud title. Even as her children grow into adults, she still feels her heart melt every time they call her by her true name. Aegon says it as if he mocks it, but in a playful way. Aemond says it with respect and admiration and with a hint of a smile. Helaena says it softly, like a butterfly's wing. And Daeron...
The Queen quickly shuts her thoughts down and rises from the couch, patting the cushion closest to Helaena's foot, "I'll leave you to it then. If you miss dinner, I'll make sure a meal is sent up to you."
She moves around the furniture and heads toward the door.
"Mother."
Y/n looks back, smiling patiently as she waits for Helaena to continue.
The young princess doesn't look up from her new book, speaking in riddles as she often does. But today, her riddle felt haunting, almost like a warning, "A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."
Puzzled as she often is by Helaena's riddles, Y/n tries not to let it bother her. Over the years, she had learned to stop asking Helaena what she means and has stopped trying to understand her. Sometimes, even Helaena appears confused by what her own words mean. When she started saying these riddles, Viserys took it as a sign that she was a dragon dreamer, much like himself. Daemon had rolled his eyes and had started an argument with his brother for the sake of an argument, so Y/n never try to investigate further what her husband meant.  
Instead of asking her to reiterate, Y/n only nods to Helaena before leaving the room, taking a longer route toward her own apartments so that she might have a little more to walk and think alone. The time it takes for her to get to her chambers is peaceful and the hallways are empty except for the occasional maid walking in or out of rooms to fetch or retrieve clothes or food. Ser Harrold Westerling is waiting outside of Y/n's room when she arrives, and after he opens the door for her, the Queen turns back to him, "You may leave, Ser Harrold. Please see to it that no one bothers the Princess Helaena while she reads."
"At once, Your Grace," Harrold bows and marches down the hall, and Y/n closes the door behind her.
A late afternoon nap was in order, but Y/n knew better than to try when she still had so much to do. Looking around, she found the stacks of letters she had asked the King for and crossed the room to the table. She picks up one of the letters, inspected the contents, and made out the name Prince Qoren Martell.
"Absolutely not," Y/n found herself talking out loud, laughing at the gall of House Martell. She decided that all suitors she didn't approve of will have their letters burned immediately so her husband would not see them, lest he tried to marry their daughter off without her knowledge. She sauntered over to the hearth and watched the letter burn in the small flames, still amused but faintly disgusted at the idea of Helaena being sent to Dorne. The embers of the hearth appeared to mock her, the andirons; the two tall bracket spikes supporting the logs from falling into the room were shaped suspiciously like a Sunspeare. Y/n doesn't try to think about how her andirons were probably forged in Dorne and instead focused on watching the letter burn.
She hears rustling behind her and turned to face the maid she expected to find. Instead, a knife is pressed into her neck, and a hand grips tightly onto her arm. Y/n lets out a squeak of shock, reflexes kicking in as her free hand tries to push the knife away from her. The attacker is male, close to her own height, and reeked of filth. He doesn't demand or restrain her, instead, he speaks in grunts and growls as he fights with every intention of killing her.
"HELP! GUARDS!" Y/n screams at the top of her lungs once her brain had caught up with her body, still trying to push the dagger out of the way. He pushed back with equal strength and determination, with Y/n's own adrenaline turning quickly into fear and causing her arms to tremble. Her breaths quicken as she can feel herself slowly go into shock, limbs heavy and slowly giving into the weight of the knife. At one point, she tried to pull away and run when her legs began to feel like jelly, but her attacker had a hold of one of her arms, so she had no choice but to continue to fight for her life. As they both spun in this twisted dance, Y/n quickly realized that the hearth now stood directly behind her attacker. Sucking in a deep breath with every bit of strength she had left, she shoved the man hard, even trying to place her foot behind his to trip him for added measure.
The man falls, knife sliding like butter down Y/n's forearm in the descent. Before the assassin could place his hands behind him to stop his fall, his head hits the mantle above the hearth and he crumbles in pain, forgetting to fight against gravity as his body drops into the hearth. His neck, unfortunately, lands right on top of one of the andiron spikes, spearing through flesh and bone. He spits out blood, gurgling, choking on the red liquid as he slowly realizes he was trapped with his head sticking directly into the flames. As he spat out blood, his whole body convulsed and writhed in response to his entire head beginning to catch fire, unable to escape with his neck completely skewered onto the spike. His eyebrows turned to ash, and his skin began to blister and melt, his body twitched and kicked for freedom, even as the heat of the flames forced his skin to sizzle and pop like a boar on a spit. The smell was unbearable as Y/n quickly steps away, only to fall to her knees on the floor when she found no strength left, tears uncontrollably rolling down her face. All she could do was cling to her injured arm and watch, horrified, as her attacker's body slowly stopped fighting, going limp as the fire somehow burned brighter. The Queen tried gasping for air, her entire body shaking out of fear and pain just as the doors burst open to reveal the Kingsguard.
"My Queen!" Harrold Westerling had returned, immediately running to Y/n's side while his men inspect the scene before them. Ser Harrold guides her to the nearest furniture and inspects Her Majesty's injuries while a maester was called forward. Between the bustling of the guards and the shouting involved, other residents of the castle began to stir with all this commotion.
The first to arrive was Alicent, with Rhaenyra slowly following her in her condition. Alicent looked around the room, horrified by the man lying dead in the fireplace before she scanned the apartments and quickly found her sister, "Y/n!"
She rushed over to the Queen, gathering her up in her arms as they both wept in fright and relief. Rhaenyra excused Ser Harrold from attending Y/n so that she may sit on the other side of her stepmother and hold her close. The Grand Maester finally arrived and quickly made good, efficient work on the Queen's arm as Daemon marched into the room, sneering at the scene of the crime. He looked as though he wished to spit onto the dead body before releasing his anger elsewhere.
"Who was meant to be on watch here?! Who failed to protect the Queen?!"
"It was me, Prince Daemon," Ser Harrold bowed his head in shame.
Daemon only takes two steps towards the knight before Y/n finally found her words, even as she stumbles over them, "N-No, Daemon! It was not his fault! I... I... I ordered him to go tend to Helaena. I made him leave his station."
Her brother-in-law relents after a while of the two of them staring down one another, stepping away from Ser Harrold and moving to stand behind the three women on the couch, "Has my brother been informed? Is someone with him?"
"Ser Criston is guarding the King, my prince. He's on his way."
"Mother?" Aegon calls out from the doorway, only walking into the room when the sea of knights part for him to see the Queen alive and well. Jace also walks in with him, leading his father, Ser Harwin, to inspect the scene for himself.
"I did not realize I was hosting in my chambers," Y/n muttered under her breath, wincing when the maester added yet another stitch to the cut. However, her irritation melts away when her eldest son approached her, reaching out to him with her free hand, "I'm alright, my sweet. Have you seen your brother and sister?"
"Your daughter is safe in her room, Your Grace," Ser Harrold cut in, "I left a guard with her."
"And Aemond? Last I saw, he was in the library with Lucerys."
"I'll go get them," Harwin volunteered after a pleading gaze from his lady-wife Alicent. He quickly heads towards the door only to stop short and bow as Viserys finally enters, his cane trembling in support of him.
"What is the meaning of this?" The King demands as everyone bows in his presence, all except his family members sitting on or surrounding the couch. Viserys turns to his family, inspecting each of their expressions before settling on his queen, "And why is my wife bleeding?"
"There was an assassination attempt, Your Grace," Ser Harrold quickly reports with a ramrod back. Ser Harwin finally leaves the room after nodding to his father and Ser Criston when they entered the Queen's chambers. Hand of the King, Lord Lyonel Strong, steps up to stand beside the King, appalled and worried.
"An assassin? How is this possible?" He questions.
"I did not recognize his face," Y/n answers, her voice now stronger with her family surrounding her. Her back straightens and she now looks onto Lord Lyonel with the fierceness of a queen once more, "I pride myself in knowing every staff member in my employment, and I have never seen that man before in my life."
"It will be hard to identify him now, Your Grace," Ser Harrold continues to address Viserys while also moving aside to show the King the horrifying sight of the death. Viserys' eyes widen at the body stuck in the hearth from the neck up. He looks at his wife and then back to the body, affronted and speechless. In this time of the King taking it all in, Ser Harwin returns with Prince Aemond and Lord Lucerys, both young men striding across the room to join their respective family members. Aemond stands beside his older brother, standing over their mother as he inspects her appearance with only his single eye. He didn't speak a word, and yet confessed he was afraid by looks alone.
Alicent felt the need to stand and pace, and by doing so, caught a glimpse of the dead body and noticed, to her horror, his attire, "He wears our house colors," turning back to her older sister, Alicent recognized the equal shock spreading over Y/n's face, "Could this man be from Oldtown?"
Y/n's shoulders fall, a faint look of acceptance written in her sad eyes, "If so... then there could only be one prime suspect who resides there."
The room is filled with mutters of both surprise and indifference, depending on who you talk to. Some, like the Kingsguard, are appalled by this revelation, some, like Daemon, know it to be true and their eyes darken. Others, like Lord Lyonel and Lady Alicent, are in a state of disbelief.
Alicent even voices her disbelief as she shakes her head, "Father would never do something like this. Why would he want you dead if you're married to the King?"
"Because Father's wish wasn't for me to marry the King, it was for his blood to one day sit on the Iron Throne," Y/n stated boldly, loudly, to make sure everyone in the room heard it and accept it, "When I pledged my loyalty to Rhaenyra's right as Viserys' heir, Father's plans were ruined."
Rhaenyra squeezed Y/n's knee in comfort and the room stirred with this bit of information. Viserys grinds his teeth while glaring at the floor, enraged by the gall of his former Hand.
"A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."
All eyes turn to the door of the room, where Princess Helaena now stood, half hiding away as all eyes turn to her. Y/n's worries all float away as her face softens at the sight of her daughter, smiling in encouragement, "Yes... that's what you meant, my heart. You tried to warn me."
"If Father is responsible for this attack, then he risks himself becoming a traitor to the crown," Alicent interrupts, her voice low in anger, "He should be punished immediately."
Viserys huffs out a large, enraged sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Maester. Once you are done attending to the Queen, please inspect the body. I will have the Kingsguard bring the corpse down to the dungeons and you may meet them there."
"Of course, Your Grace."
"Ser Harrold," Viserys broadens his voice, the man in question straightening to attention at the power of it, "I demand the arrest of Lord Otto Hightower. Send out a regiment to Oldtown to obtain him and bring him back to King's Landing."
"Your Grace," Ser Harrold bows and vacates the room.
"Ser Criston," Viserys turns to the younger knight, "Remain outside the Queen's room tonight."
"At once, Your Grace."
"Half of you bring the body down to the dungeons," the old man orders the remaining Kingsguard, "The rest of you follow me. I will summon the court and address the crime at hand."
"You mean to warn them of your interrogation into their treachery?" Daemon questions with a sly glare, appalled.
"Treachery?" Viserys appeared affronted at his younger brother, scoffing in disbelief.
"Someone inside the castle must have helped, my love," Y/n decided to cut in before another spat between brothers could begin within her chambers, "I do not believe my father acted alone in this attack. I believe he had help from someone on the inside. Only someone with the proper knowledge of the castle and my whereabouts could have instructed the assassin on where to go and when to strike. No doubt whoever this traitor is had hired the attacker using Lord Otto's coin."
The maester had finished Y/n's stitches and stood to instruct the Kingsguard on how to remove the body without tampering with it. Roughly five Kingsguard managed to lift the corpse off the sharp andiron and pull it out of the fire without distressing the skull from its shoulders. The Queen keeps her eyes fixed on her husband, refusing to even glimpse at the body of her attacker. Viserys former dismissal relents, his shoulders slouching as he nods in agreement. The body is removed from Y/n's chambers and with it follows a parade of Kingsguard along with the Grand Maester. Viserys waited for them all to leave before also exiting with Lord Lyonel, mentioning under his breath of a secret council meeting.
The room grows silent, the rest of the royal family sitting uncomfortably, unnerved by the situation. Y/n's mind is buzzing, her thoughts running from her attacker... to Oldtown, to her father, and then to Daeron. Dread freezes in her chest, worry for her youngest child taking place.
"Daemon," Y/n stands up, feeling the strength of her legs again as she rounds the couch in a flurry of skirts, stepping up to her good brother. She makes sure to stare directly up into his eyes, unwavering, as she carefully spoke her next words, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to take your dragon to Oldtown and bring me back my son?"
Mischief sparkled dimly in Daemon's war-aged eyes, a corner of his lips slowly turned up as he feigns innocence with the tilt of his head, "Not by horse, Your Grace? Surely, you wouldn't want your lord father to feel insulted by the mere threat of a dragon."
A playful taunt that she would normally meet, but the Queen's mind remains fixed on her baby boy. Her words are blunt and powerful compared to the stutter she had possessed earlier, "Perhaps I would like him to feel insulted by the mere presence of your company."
She leans into her brother-in-law's space, taking both of her hands and gripping onto one of his forearms. She lowers her voice so that only he could hear the rest, "Go. I don't care what you do, or how you do it, just bring me back my son alive."
He schooled his features, emotions neutral while firmly nodding once down to her, "Yes, Your Grace."
Daemon breaks from her hold on him and cross to the door before Aemond began to follow him, "I'll accompany you, Uncle."
Y/n quickly steps towards her second son, reaching for him, "I do not wish that, Aemond--
"It's alright, dear sister," she turns to Daemon's voice, "Vhagar and Caraxes will definitely be a sight your father will remember for the rest of his miserable years... or whatever time he has left."
The grave promise in his tone may have felt intimidating to some, but it was strangely a comfort to the Queen. Aemond grasps her elbow in comfort, forcing her to look up at him. Glancing between her son and Daemon, she eventually surrenders with a stern expression as she narrows her gaze onto Aemond, "Fine. But you do what Daemon says and you do not fight. Promise me."
"I promise, Mother," Aemond whispers gently to her, "I'll bring Daeron home for you."
He pulls out of his mother's grip and saunters over to join his uncle at the door. Daemon nods to Rhaenyra before exiting from her sight. Aemond takes one look back at his family, narrowing his sight onto his older brother. He tilts his head in question and Aegon only shakes his head in rejection. He will not join the hunt. Aemond nods with understanding, a silent conversation only two brothers can share, before he, too, leaves. Aegon turns back to his mother, dutifully placing himself at her side, "What would you have me do, Mother?"
"Stay with Helaena in her chambers tonight," she instructs him with a warm smile, cupping his face in her hands, meeting his eyes as they stood the same height, "I would feel comforted knowing neither of you would be left alone for the time being."
"We can all stay together, Aunt," Jace mentions with a smile of reassurance, "All the children. We'll have the wet nurses bring Little Aegon and Viserys to Princess Helaena's room and we can keep each other company until we know everything is safe again."
"I'll go find Joffrey," Luke volunteers, springing up and disappearing from the room.
"Very well," Y/n laughs under her breath, amused by Luke's lack of courtesy before gently patting the side of Aegon's face, "Will that please you, my dear? Will you and Jace watch over your siblings and cousins until we apprehend the people involved in this attack?"
"We'll make it a celebration, Mother," Aegon comforts her, "As to not worry the smaller ones."
"Thank you, my sweet child," Y/n whispers, feeling lighter when she watches the remainder of the children leave, though it was getting harder and harder to recognize them as children when the older ones are nearly fully grown and so responsible.
The room remains occupied by Y/n, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and Ser Harwin, the latter noticing the way the Queen chewed on her bottom lip while in thought as she began pacing the room, "What is it?"
"I wish to know who among our court would want me dead, and if their intentions have any motive behind hiring my attacker."
"If the assassin had lived, we could have questioned him," Harwin had commented.
"Not likely," Queen Y/n shook her head, "The maester may confirm this, but I believe the attacker's tongue might have been cut out prior to assaulting me. I remember he never spoke a word, only making pained noises and grunting. Whoever helped him into the castle was more careful than my father. Whoever they are, they covered their tracks."
~~~~~~~~~
It was well into the next day and yet none of them left Y/n's side. They had all stayed up the entire night, debating on what to do next as the Queen anxiously waited for news from Oldtown. To try and distract her, both Alicent and Rhaenyra offered to assist in looking through the letters asking for Helaena's hand in marriage. The three women had done so until morning, with Harwin standing guard inside the room and Ser Criston guarding outside of it.
Ser Criston had yet to be informed of Daemon and Aemond's return when they all heard the familiar roars of Caraxes and Vhagar flying overhead, even shaking the floor of Y/n's chambers. The Queen abruptly stood from her chair, running to her balcony to spot the two dragons for herself. However, they had flown directly to the Dragonpit and they were now too far for Y/n to see who sat on top of their mounts. Anxious to see the riders with her own two eyes, the Queen sprinted out of her chambers, barely acknowledging the others shouting her name behind her. She knew for a fact that Ser Harwin and Criston were running after her, but Alicent and Rhaenyra's voices faded away, not following Y/n, most likely because of the princess' round stomach.
Y/n paid no mind to courtesy or manners as she ran through the halls of the castle, not even nodding her head whenever a servant or lord stopped to bow in greeting her. She even kicked off her shoes, grace be damned, so that she may pick up her skirts and take two steps at a time down the winding staircases.
By the time she ordered guards to open the doors of the Red Keep, the front gates were slowly rising. Y/n bounded down the steps of the courtyard, finally stopping to catch her breath as she anxiously waits for whoever to come through. Daemon entered first, followed by his nephew. Aemond, however, was occupied with another silver-haired individual, the older brother playfully shoving a younger boy forward.
Although upon looking at him, Y/n could hardly describe him as a boy. Daeron, and the age of six and ten, was technically a man grown, though he could never possibly reach the same height as Aemond or Daemon. He always kept his traditional Targaryen hair short, at least to his shoulders, and Y/n's eyes briefly squinted at the green-colored apparel her youngest son wore before quickly forgetting about it, her smile uncomfortably stretching as her eyesight began to blur.
Daeron had kept his gaze on the Queen, even as the front gates closed behind them. The courtyard was still until the young prince stepped forward, his own smile smaller than Y/n's but it was one of relief and shyness, "Hello, Mother."
She broke after that, huffs of laughter under her breath as joyful tears ran down her face. Y/n opened up her arms and Daeron dutifully fell into them, hiding into her shoulder as his mother hugged him tightly, shaking with relief.
~~~~~~~~~
"Has Daeron comfortably moved back in?" Viserys asked his wife that following night, both of them sitting at the corner of the Small Council table, alone.
"Yes. Although I wouldn't be surprised if we found him in one of his sibling's rooms the next morning," Y/n smiled fondly behind the lip of her wine glass, "Aemond said that he was thrilled to be coming home. Apparently, he hated Oldtown."
"And your father? What has become of him?"
Y/n's smile falls, immediately avoiding her husband's gaze as she carefully swirls the wine in her goblet, watching the small whirlpool instead of the King's reaction, "I don't know. I didn't bother to ask."
Viserys sighed, all too well acquainted with Daemon's temper and his opinion of Lord Otto, "Well, my men will be there in a few days and they will make do with what is left of Otto Hightower."
The Queen sets her goblet on the table and leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers against the arms, "Perhaps Daemon chose mercy. Perhaps he wished to surprise us and soon the Kingsguard will bring my father back alive and whole."
It was a comforting thought, but Viserys only huffed in amusement, "Knowing my brother, I wouldn't get your hopes up, my dear."
They both laugh from their chests, even if there wasn't much mirth behind it. They settle back into a comfortable silence again, while a thought comes to Viserys' mind. It pleases him, and he outwardly shows with the broad, toothless smile he gifts his wife, "You know... even though you're kind and caring, you're also fierce and harsh. Those are tremendous qualities, my love, that not many can possess. Did you know what the smallfolk call you? The Good Queen. My grandmother, Queen Alysanne, was also nicknamed the Good Queen."
Her curious expression slowly melts into a fond smile, allowing Viserys to continue as he sets down his own wine goblet, "It's an honorable title, perhaps more honorable than just being a King or Queen. It goes to show that you are well-loved and you are good at what you do... I often wonder what would happen to this kingdom and this family without you, especially after nearly losing you last night."
Y/n's heart squeezes in her chest, touched by her husband's words. Eyebrows furrowed and lips turned up, the Queen looked over at Viserys with sympathy as she reached her hand over to grasp his, holding it tight, "Best not to dwell on it, my King."
~~~~~~~~~
A/N: It took me an embarrassing long time to realize I was spelling ‘Jacaerys’ wrong. I blame Rhaenyra for giving her son such a difficult name.
I hope you’ve enjoyed! This will likely be the last part of ‘The Good Queen’ since I don’t think it really needs to be a series. It’s bad enough that I have three other series that need updating. Please leave a request in my pm or ask box!
Inspiration for this chapter HERE
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drakoneve · 1 year
Text
Complete
request: Could you do one of Viserys I Targaryen?
pairing: viserys i targaryen x fem!reader
word count: 700+
warning: mentions of pregnancy, childbirth, & miscarriages (the latter is briefly mentioned, nothing graphic regarding infant loss or childbirth is described)
A/N: for this fic viserys and aemma never married. mostly because i believe viserys deserves some form of peace😭
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Sleep evaded you on the eve of the tournament celebrating the upcoming birth of your unborn child. The future prince or princess of the realm. The sun had now risen over King’s Landing, and as the day wore on your body began to contract and ache in pains you recognized as labor pains.
You couldn’t stop from gently stroking your swollen belly, as if to calm your nerves and ease your pain. In a final attempt for sleep, and seeking peace, you close your eyes as you breathe deep and relax into This wasn’t your first baby, no, but you couldn’t help the worry that’s plagued you these past nine months.
Your firstborn, your sweet Realm’s Delight, Princess Rhaenyra, is the only child to have survived past brith. Five pregnancies that resulted in one living child and four babes lost in the womb. For a long time after your last miscarriage you refused to lay with your husband, King Viserys. He understood your reasoning as the loss of yet another babe took a toll on him as it did you. 
When you first had the inklings that you were with child once again you summoned the maester, who only confirmed your suspicions. Viserys was delighted by the news of course, as he always was, but he also feared greatly for your safety. Over the course of your marriage and throughout the trials of the past Viserys stuck by your side and made sure you were as comfortable as possible.
He called the finest maesters the Citadel had to offer to aid in ensuring both you and your babe survive this pregnancy. You tried to assure him such measures were truly unnecessary, to which he cupped your face and replied “You are my queen, my love, the mother of my children. I would do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Your king seemed to know exactly what you needed to hear, even if you yourself did not.
The wide doors of your chambers swung open, disturbing the last hope of any tranquility. You sit up on your elbows to greet whoever’s entering.
Rhaenyra’s silky silver hair is whipped in whirls you recognized as results of dragon riding. She’s no longer in her delicately scaled riding uniform but you have no doubt your daughter had just been in the skies on Syrax.
“Mother,” Rhaenyra greeted you softly, concern quickly lacing her features. “Father old me your labors had begun.” She crawled into bed with you despite the off looks from some of the midwives. Merely a girl of four and ten, Rhaenyra had yet to take a husband and bear children, so she had no such experience on the birthing bed and thus no idea how to comfort you. 
She laid on your left side, head on your shoulder as she wrapped both arms around yours and intertwined your fingers with hers. “You musn’t stay for long, little dragon,” you advised. “I need you to find your father and bring him to me. I have a feeling it won’t be long now.” You kissed the side of her head.
As the gods would have it, you hardly managed to keep from pushing before Viserys arrived to your chambers. Viserys joined your bed side immediately, holding your hand tight and reassuring you with sweet whispers of his love and adoration. Rhaenyra, despite both your and Viserys’ advise to leave the room, refused to leave your side again. Instead she took to your left and held your hand as Viserys held your right. 
Not but ten minutes later your son, Prince Baelon Targaryen was born. With silver hair and lavender eyes Baelon was every bit Targaryen as his father and sister, and you couldn’t possibly love him more. 
Viserys sat beside you staring in awe at the healthy pink baby laid upon your chest. “He’s beautiful, my love. I am so proud of you.”
Tears welled in your eyes as you brought your left hand up to stroke the silkiness of your newborn’s thin layer of hair, holding Viserys’ hand firmly with your right. 
“I love you,” you whisper as to not wake your newborn babe. “I love our little dragons, Viserys. You’ve blessed me with two beautiful children I could not love more. Thank you, husband. For everything you have done and continue to do for our family.”
Viserys smiles warmly at you before pressing his lips to yours in a short, yet sweet, kiss. He pulled away just enough to part your lips but kept your foreheads pressed together. “There’s nothing I would not do for you or our little ones, my queen.”
You hummed in response, tiredness overtaking your body. You let your eyes flutter closed, content in the presence of your now complete family. 
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Playtime´s over (Viserys I Targaryen x servant!reader)
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synopsis: King Viserys calls you into his chambers for a favor.
warnings: DUB CON (power imbalance), age gap, very little plot, smut, oral (m recieving), p in v sex, unprotected sex
word count: 1.4k
A/N: This is technically my first smut in a while so please be nice. Also this can be read as a stand alone or as a prologue to my mini-series I could protect you
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You are sitting on a blanket with Aemond, a book on one thigh and the six year old Prince on the other. Enjoying the warmth of the late summer sun high in the sky from within the gardens, as you read the Prince a story of old Valyria. It was his favorite place in the entire keep, he had frequently told you, to which you let out a chuckle. Alicent had just recently scolded you for reading those cruel stories to a six year old, but Aemond would not stop pouting and huffing until he saw you pull out the book he wanted. In all fairness you think she is just overprotective of him. It is magnificent how such a ´well-behaved´ child could be so insistent and headstrong at the same time. You shake the thought with a smile. Even in his young age it is clear that Aemond has not many friends as it seems and you are happy to lend him some company whenever he asks. He is such a smart and kind child. You often feel sorry that he and his siblings each seem to share a deep interest with their father, yet the man could not be more uninterest in them. Your voice is quiet as to not interrupt the peace around  the two of you, barely heard over the singing birds in the trees and bushes around as a maid approaches you. Interrupting you mid-sentence.
“My apologies, Aemond. It seems like playtime is over for now.” You set the boy down so you can stand up.
“The king demands to see you.” The woman simply says. Her eyes are trained on you with a look of pity in them.
You thank her with a nod. Immediately you can feel the perspiration on your palms and close your eyes to take a deep breath, in the hopes it would make the wish to chew down your fingernails again.
“Are you in trouble?” You hear Aemonds calm but concerned voice behind you. He looked so serious for a child.
“No, of course not. What would possibly make you think that, little dragon?” You put on a smile for the boy again. He doesn´t need to see the nervousness in you at what comes next.
“Whenever my siblings or I talk to my father we get yelled at.” The statement makes you click your tongue in disapproval of the treatment these children experienced.
“Don´t worry, Aemond. I have to leave now, but if you wish to, we can continue our reading in the evening. Hm?” you pick up your tone in the hopes to cheer the young Prince up again. Even if only a bit.
“I would like that.” He gives you a smile back.
“Perfect. I will see you later then.” You make your way towards the Maegor´s holdfast as quickly as possible, without running. Wondering what it would be that he would ask of you today.
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Knocking quietly on the King´s chamber doors quietly you get called in in a matter of seconds. Viserys is sitting by his model, giving you some hope that today he had called you for something more innocent. You could not have been more wrong. Unknowing what his intentions for this meeting are, you stand by the closed door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You are sure you are not much older than the current queen, when rumors of her visits made their rounds through the castle´s staff.
“Your majesty called for me?” You bow your head in greeting.
“Yes. Come here.” The instruction comes in a calm tone and he doesn´t look up from his model.
“As you wish, your grace.” You go to kneel between his legs without any more words.
His leg muscles tense instantly under your touch as you let your hands rub over his thighs. Every stroke getting them closer to the hardness underneath the soft material of the clothing. Once your fingertips feel his manhood twitch, they waste no time to open the zipper to free his cock from its confines.
The two of you had done this countless times before. It never really got any easier, but you were always sure to find a present along with your moon tea. So, you start placing gentle kisses across his length, from the stones to the leaking tip. Which you grace with little kitten licks.
Viserys groans above you. One of his hands threading into your hair, tugging on it, at the roots. The action pulls a moan from your lips. You let his hand guide you. Your lips close around his shaft, taking him in as deep as possible without choking, hollowing out your cheeks to earn another groan. Viserys´ hand is not gentle as it guides your head up and down on his cock in a steady rhythm. He never had been. You don´t know why you still think it would change. His length twitches inside of your mouth. So you take him deeper, fastening the speed in which you bob your head up and down. It becomes harder to breath and you can feel your jaw starting to hurt slowly but surely. Then you here that moan and feel him twitch again. The telltale sign he is close to finishing. You pray for your knees that he comes quickly and start to play with his sac with the hand that isn´t wrapped around the base of his length.
Suddenly Viserys tugs at your hair again. Pulling you off him. You raise an eyebrow at him, but stay quiet.
“On the bed.” Comes his breathless instruction.
You follow it suit. Slipping the fine dress he had gifted you not too long ago over your head and rid yourself of your small clothes, before laying on your back in the middle of the mattress. Legs spread for him to see your cunny.
The corners of his parted lips go upwards with a huffed chuckle and you see the dilated pupils of those beautiful Targaryen typical lilac eyes travel downwards. Then with a deep inhale from both of your lungs he buries himself deep inside your tight heat. His breath fans over you face as he begins to move, but the way he ruts into your core is anything but romantic. It´s a cold way of satisfying his own needs without any regard for yours. A way to get rid of any stresses.
You make sure to hold on to his shoulders, gazing deeply into his eyes, that are focused on where he disappears inside of you. Soft and breathy whimpers fall from your mouth. Along with his huffs and hisses they are the only sounds in the room. The pace he sets at first is slow. Almost painfully so, with the lack of preparation, but when your hand finds its way between your legs to rub circles into the bundle of nerves sat atop of your cunt it gets easier. The motion sends sparks of pleasure through your body, the velvety walls fluttering around his cock. As a result Viserys picks up the pace with which he drives into you. The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin grows louder.
I doesn´t take long until you bring yourself to finish. Your walls tighten around him and in time with your shaking legs, you hear that telling groan from above you once more.
“Beg for me. Beg for my seed.” The kings breathless voice rings from over you and of course you oblige instantly.
“Please, my king. Spill yourself inside of me. Please give me your seed.” Your voice is high pitched and you look at him with the most needy look as your eyes meet.
With a few more rolls of his hips and a few more honey voiced pleas from your mouth, his forehead rests against your shoulder. You feel his finish paint your insides white, taking a few more breaths to calm down.
He is quick to pull his softening cock out of you and sit up at the edge of the bed, tugging himself into his pants to make himself presentable again. You do the same. Standing up to put your dress back on, with his seed dribbling down your thigh.
“Your majesty.” You curtsy once more when you are done. Closing the heavy door on your way out. Making your way through the corridors, to clean yourself up, before you returned to your proper tasks around the castle.
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 6 months
Note
Yandere Viserys and his Royce niece
Daemon knowing Viserys drugs his daughter every night so Viserys can have his way with her as she sleeps
Royce!Reader being oblivious to her uncle fucking her every night despite the ache between her legs in the mornings
Daemon also secretly slipping fertility potions into his daughters drinks knowing Viserys will fill her cunt with his seed as she sleeps
Royce!Reader in shock at getting pregnant despite being an untouched virgin (as far as she knows)
Royce!Reader even more shocked when her uncle Viserys pins her down in his bed the night he announced he was will marry her to her horror
Viserys telling her he hopes their child is a boy as he fuck her cervix
Viserys was pleased to find out that you are very fertile. You got pregnant even before your wedding. He fucks you day and night and even continue to drug you sometimes because he just loves you vulnerable and helpless. You wake up sore and cun in your holes.
Viserys has ordered the guards to not let out of your room, especially after you got pregnant. You can only wear what he wants you to wear and most of the time he keeps you naked in his room.
Imagine he roughly fucking you while you are pregnant and telling you pregnancy suits you and he will always keep you pregnant.
He was extremely delighted when you gave birth to a boy. And he is certain within the next ten months he will have another son.
You have begged Daemon to sneak some moontea to you but instead he secretly gives you fertility potions, in fact Viserys knows about it
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A Mended Heart || D. Targaryen x oc, Robb Stark x oc
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GIF by @lady-arryn DIVIDERS by @straywords
summary: Alysanne's marriage to her older brother, Daemon was once full of prosperity. As thirteen years and six children pass by, their marriage starts to crumble, his loyalty was nowhere to be found and so an annulment was requested. Years later when Daemon's second wife, Laena, dies tragically, the Prince attempts to rekindle his relationship with his dear sister. But is she willing to leave the life she built in Winterfell?
a/n: note that this a request!! i just made it into a lil series :)
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P.t 1
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"An annulment?" Viserys' eyebrows raises at his brother's absurdity. "She's our sister, your wife, and mother to your children, Daemon. What possible reason do you-" "People change, brother." The Prince taps his finger on the table, already bored and wanting to leave.
Viserys sighs, his hands rubbing his forehead. "And she agreed?" A scoff leaves Daemon's lips. "Whether or not she fucking agrees is her problem. I get to make this decision, not her." He spat, the King was baffled at the words of younger brother. He was treating their sister as if she was simply a commoner.
"And what of the children?" Daemon's mind goes to the image of his six children. A sigh leaves his lips, his head leaning back on the chair, "They are mine. But Alysanne will take them, and, they are still my heirs." Although their marriage was going to be annulled, he still loved his children. They still hold their titles as Prince's and Princess's.
Viserys nods. "I had hoped you and Alysanne were to be together till death parted with the two of you. Please, think about what your wanting to do right now, brother. For the sake of me, Alysanne, your children!" Viserys pleaded, he did not want his family crumbling apart because of this.
"We were always told we were to marry since birth. We were forced into this. |love her as my blood, my sister, but we weren't made to marry each other." Daemon voiced out. The elder lets out a sigh of defeat. "I cannot force you to stay in a marriage with her, but please, I do not want this to be the reason our family is split apart," the King sternly says as Daemon gets up from his seat.
"Of course, your Grace," He bows his head and leaves the room. Viserys watched with sadden eyes, saddened for his younger sister.
"It's done. We are free from each other," Daemon leans back on the chair, his voice flat. Alysanne rolls her eyes as she continues her embroidery. "Where are the children?" He questions, "With their wet nurse, why?" She finally looks at him. "To say goodbye." He stands up, the Targaryen Princess furrowed her eyebrows at him “Where are you going?" Daemon chuckles, "To Dragonstone, sister. Do you think I would stay here in King's Landing?"
Alysanne was surprised that Daemon was leaving so quickly. She did not care though. "No. I know how much you dread it here," She mutters, her hands back working on embroidering. Daemon looks stares at her. She could feel his stare so she looks up with a sigh. "Yes?"
"Goodbye then. Let me remind you that I get to see our children whenever I want-“ “Yes yes I know. You've not only told me about a hundred times Daemon. I'm not cruel, they're still your children," Alysanne replies, annoyed at the constant remindering. "Good, l'll be on my way" He nods curtly at before walking to her.
He awkwardly stands infront of her. Her gaze on his shoes before she turns her head and lets him kiss her on the cheek. Although they used to be Husband and Wife, they were still Brother and Sister. No words were exchanged and Daemon left what used to be their shared bedchambers.
As she sat there alone, she pondered back on their marriage. It was once filled with prosperity but things changed. They both changed. She never forgot how loved she felt from Daemon or how loving he was to their children. His loyalties changed, and they both mutually agreed that this would be for the best.
Alysanne didn't realise she was crying until she felt something wet on her cheeks. "Mother?" Her sons voice called out as she quickly wiped the salty tears away. "Yes, darling" She smiled at her eldest son who was ten-and-two. "Why is father going to Dragonstone without us?" He asks as the Princess moves aside to let him sit beside her.
She smiled, her hands brushing through his blonde hair. "Because your father is staying there from now on, okay?”He still loves you all very much but it is best he stays there and I, here with you all." Her hand moves to his chin to make him look at her. Aegon slowly nods.
"Come on, I think we should go for our walk now," She says brightly, setting down her embroidery, but Aegon doesn't budge. "Father won't be there," He points out. Alysanne sighed, sitting back down. They would all walk together every afternoon when they can, with all the children. But now that Daemon was gone, it was only to be Alysanne and her children.
"Why don't we ask uncle if he would like to join us?" She suggests, attempting to cheer Aegon up. He thinks before nodding. Of course, Viserys was more than happy to go on a family stroll with his sister and nieces and nephews.
"What a fine day it is today isn't it, children?" Alysanne smiles at them as they reply with yes. "What do you plan on doing now, sister?" Viserys asks, Alysanne’s youngest, Visenya in his arms. She sighs, watching her twins, Rhaena and Baela chasing after each other.
"I'm still the Princess, brother. I have many options." She assures him with a smile for Alysanne knew that Viserys was worried. “Oh stop worrying about Daemon and I Viserys. You have more urgent things to worry about as King. We will greatly benefit from this, I can assure you" She pats his arm, “If you say so" The King sighs as Alysanne walks ahead to catch up with the rest of her children.
~
2 months later…
“You look handsome, sweet boy” Alysanne kisses the crown of her Daeron’s head. He was sat on her lap as she brushed through his hair, he was dressed handsomely for the celebration of Rhaenyra’s name day.
Before the Princess could say anything, a knock comes from the door. It was her handmaiden, Dyana. “Princess, I have news” She bows as she urges forward to Alysanne. “What is it?” She asks, intrigued. Dyana awkwardly looks to Daeron who was busy playing with the jewellery on the table.
“I think it’s best if Prince Daeron leaves the room,” She quietly says, her gaze stuck on the floor. Alysanne gives her a skeptical looks but nonetheless takes her advice. “Ser Harwin!” She calls out and the door immediately opens revealing her sworn protector. “You wouldn’t mind if you watched Daeron for a bit would you?” A kind smile makes it to her pink lips.
“Not at all, Princess,” Harwin sends back a smile, “Come one Daeron,” He beckons the young boy as he happily runs to Harwin. After the sound of the door shut was heard, Alysanne focuses her attention back on Dyana. “Now tell me,” “Prince Daemon is betrothed to Laena Velaryon,”
It didn’t faze the Princess that Daemon was already betrothed to another. It did surprise her though, how quickly her brother moved on. Alysanne chuckled, “Oh Dyana, you know I care little of what my brother does. Are they expecting a child yet?” She jokingly says, turning around to choose out her jewellery.
The Targaryen was met with silence. Her eyes move up to the mirror to look at Dyana. “Yes, they are.” She quietly answers. Alysanne did not expect the answer but yet again, she was not much surprised. “Well, I am happy for them. Laena is a sweet girl,” Alysanne smiles, fidgeting with the necklace.
Dyana studies the Princess, she seemed bothered. The door opened, “Princess, the celebrations are to start soon” Harwin says as Daeron peaks his head in the room. “Wonderful,” Getting up from her seat, she takes ahold of Daeron’s hand and leaves the room. Ser Harwin close behind.
It pained the heart of Alyssane in an unexplainable way. Maybe it was because it had only been 2 months since the annulment of their marriage and that he had moved on so quickly from her. Though they used to be husband and wife, Daemon was still her older brother. And she still loved him as an older brother.
Walking into the throne room where Rhaenyra’s celebration was held, Alysanne was accompanied by Ser Harwin Strong. Her six children, Aegon, Visenya, Daeron, Rhaena, Baela, and her youngest—only 10 months old—Maegor with her. It never failed to amaze the realm how much Daemon and Alysanne’s children looked like them.
They were spitting images of their parents and a nod to the people of old Valyria. “Sister,” Viserys stands from his seat and places a kiss on Alysanne’s cheek. “Brother,” She smiles back, sitting down at the Royal table. The celebrations commenced and it was in full swing.
The thought of Daemon marrying and expecting a child still lingered in the Princess’ mind. Biting her lip constantly and tapping her finger on the table, Viserys noticed the signs of his sister’s anxiousness. “Are you alright?” He leans to her and speaks in a hushed tone.
Stopping her finger tapping, she sends Viserys a look before facing the front and sighing. “Our dear brother has remarried,” The King sighs, shakes his head and takes a sip of his mead, “And they are expecting a child.” Alysanne finishes, this time it was her turn to drink the alcohol as Viserys stares wide-eyed at his sister.
He knew what kind of person Daemon was, but lately it seemed like he doesn’t know what Daemon has become. Viserys holds Alysanne’s hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “I can always make that child illegitimate you know? Aegon is your firstborn, a male. And all your children are heirs-“ Alysanne laughs at her brother.
“Viserys, you know if you did that, you would be denying your own blood. I am not worried about Daemon’s heirs with Laena, he too knows that Aegon is the heir and so are our 5 other children. He would be a fool to not acknowledge that” Her eyes stay focused on her children dancing.
Viserys smiles and nods, “Yes, you are right. Like you always are, sister” He pats her hand and the two siblings smile at each other. Conversations fell on the Royal table before a man presents himself in front of Viserys and Alysanne. “Lord Stark, what a pleasure seeing you here!” Viserys smiles at the insanely handsome man standing there.
Alysanne listen quitely, Robb’s and her eyes often connecting. “Yes, always a pleasure to come visit King’s Landing, Your Grace” He chuckles, showcasing his pearly white smile. Then his attention shifts to the Princess. “Princess,” He bows his head at her as she does the same,
“My Lord, how is business up in the North? I’ve always been meaning to come visit with my children. Visenya loves the snow,” Alysanne smiles, her mind going back to her second eldest.
Robb stares with a wide smile at the Targaryen Princess. Something, only Viserys notices. Truth be told, whenever Robb was in King’s Landing, his eyes never seem to keep themselves off of Alysanne. She was beautiful, the realm’s beauty they would call her.
The Stark man was an honourable and respectful man so he never initiated anything with the then married Princess. When news arrived at Winterfell that the Princess and Prince’s marriage was annulled, Robb was secretly celebrating.
Viserys’ yes move back and forth from the Lord of Winterfell and his younger sister. “The children seem to be having fun dancing,” He comments with a mischievous look. Alysanne hums mindlessly. Robb chuckles to himself, giving a nod to the King as a small thanks. “Might I have a dance, Princess?”
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