#lady knight and the cursed children

[elvencantation]

these all just happened to be the same colors!!

[elowensupremacy]

he's actually so pretty when he isn't scowling o///o

[sfznyxio]

❝ 𝐈, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ❞

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. everyone says you’re the curse of your own legacy. dubbed “the worst ruler ever in history”, power is all you cared about. your selfishness leads to the downfall of your own kingdom, with you murdered at the hands of people you thought could be trusted. somehow the next day, you regress to the day you become the sole successor to the throne after the previous sovereign passed. can you prove your worth and show them you have what it takes to be the sovereign in this timeline?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. argenti, bronya, dan heng, dr. ratio, gepard, jing yuan, ruan mei, sunday, trailblazer (caelus & stelle)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. f!reader. royal au, time travel au. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. 1.9k words. inspired by billion manhwas that have this trope lol. the royal family is absolutely horrible and reader hates them. reader experiences dissociative amnesia due to trauma from said family and the previous timeline. lots of self-doubt. death is everywhere in this fic. a dark joke about betrayal (bronya). reader has hair (gepard). murder of a loved one and revenge (sunday).

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀. new year, new blog, and new fic but two months later! on spring break so i’m happy i got to write again, even if it’s just a little bit. watch me disappear for another six months or so because grad school’s a bitch.

𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈.

rumor has it among a group of chivalrous knights from a forgotten land that their deity, the god of beauty idrila, is in your kingdom. you happen to come across one of them when you snuck out of the castle. the knight introduces himself as argenti, a knight of beauty… a very strange one.

what person talks to objects as if they’re people and compliments them that they’re beautiful? as soon as he lays on you, he’s in front of you on one knee and kisses your hand, declaring that you’re beautiful, even as beautiful as idrila themself. surely you’re weirded out, but he seems sincere. 

there’s a possibility that your advisor sent a search party after you. you generally hate being escorted on your outings due to your upbringing, but going back there isn’t where your mind wants to be, so you ask the knight if he could be your company. ah, how could he resist a beautiful lady like yourself?

will he still see you as such when you ascend the throne?

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐀.

house rand is known for their strong military leadership and is a unique case of nobility. majority of its lineage are commoners, going through a selection process as children to be adopted by the current leader and be trained as their successor. shortly before your ascension, former leader cocolia rand passed away. no one knows the cause of death, except her daughter.

marchioness bronya pays a visit to introduce herself as the new leader of the house. the two of you express condolences for your families, though you try not to flinch at how she praises the late sovereign like everyone else. she believes you can keep secrets well, which isn’t entirely wrong, so she asks to borrow you. you already know the topic of discussion: the actual cause of death of madam cocolia.

it’s me. her dialogue muffles into white noise. madam cocolia has made a deal with her daughter to kill her if anything happens. hm…? did you put trust in someone to stop you if you ever went insane? can you stab me in the back if that’s the case? your mouth runs on its own, and she’s in shock. you brush it off as a joke afterwards, saying she should ignore it. yet you can’t yourself as it’s been haunting you since.

do you trust her to end your suffering, for the good of the kingdom?

𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆.

the archivist strikes you as someone who dislikes bothersome people, so you try not to spend too much time researching your condition. though upon meeting dan heng at the library, he appears courteous and doesn’t mind your company. what leaves you puzzled is that he doesn’t question your sudden interest in time travel and regression. instead, he leads you upstairs.

on the way there you trip and he grabs onto you, triggering a flashback of the mob capturing you with tight holds during your escape. realizing the intensity of his grip on you because your body’s shaking, he lets go and adjusts his hand placement to your back so you can get up. then he makes sure you’re alright before reaching the data bank.

he assumes that you’re still traumatized from your family’s death based on your reaction to that memory. everyone believes the same thing, and it’s definitely wrong. but you can’t magically convince them that you’ve seen the future where they’ll die because of you. however, his intentions make you feel at ease. he says he’ll be nearby for help. is it really okay to rely on someone else for once?

will he stick to his word and catch you when you fall to your death?

𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎.

the intelligentsia guild believes that knowledge is a valuable resource to obtain various mediums of information across the world. having one of their own at the castle not only as a professor at the royal academy, but as the advisor to the next sovereign is quite an honor. dr. ratio may be a brilliant scholar, but his interpersonal skills… not so much.

there isn’t a day where you’re spared from his lectures. to be fair, you’ve done questionable things after your family’s passing: sneaking out of the castle, researching time travel and regression, and raising raccoons that almost destroyed your garden and your servants’ sanities. nevertheless, you’re irritated by his emphasis on your reputation as a ruler. does it look like i want to be one? you storm out without a second thought.

after calming down, you search for him to apologize. you should’ve told him about how you felt instead of letting out an outburst. unfortunately he has gone home, but leaves a note that addresses your “odd hobbies” - ways to not alert the servants during your escapades, literature of topics of interest that aren’t in the library, and interventions of minimizing the chaos of your familiars. you take it as an apology; he’s more considerate than you think even if he doesn’t admit it.

can he stay by your side if you decide to abdicate the throne?

𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃.

house landau is the “shield” of the kingdom, serving the royal family for generations. their current leader count landau is a stern man from what you recall the several times you visited him as a child. now he’s forced to retire due to his illness, replaced by his eldest and only son gepard, your childhood friend.

the two of you haven’t interacted much as you reach the training period for succession, whereas his father drills him to be insubordinate to the royal family as they have been. with your parents gone and the count ill, you can see him whenever you wish. but how should you approach him? more importantly, does he still see you as a friend? you give up instantly, exhausted from your mental trip to the past.

amidst the flames, he yells at you to run as shadows consume him. you shoot up - bloodshot eyes, rapid heartbeat, and heavy breaths. a pair of arms engulfs you, one hand rubbing your back and the other buried in your hair. rest, i’m here, he whispers against your forehead. you start to lose it, sobbing uncontrollably on his chest.

is this what giving in to your selfish gains feels like?

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍.

the sight of citizens flocking to the plaza can be seen from your balcony. 

three people emerge from the crowd, who you recognize as residents of the civilization in the sky: the xianzhou alliance. they have no reason to be here unless it’s important business, and that happens to be you. how forgetful you are.

earlier you test a theory that hopefully changes your tragic fate. it takes courage to act like a jester in front of the council, sending diplomats to invite various factions to forge alliances. the entire court and yourself are amazed that one of the arbiter-generals jing yuan is here in the flesh. the xianzhou rely on themselves for help rather than outsiders, so there must be something that he wants from you.

little did you know while you’re interested in the xianzhou’s manpower, he’s interested in you. his two attendants have never seen their general smitten over someone before; it’s obnoxious. his visits become frequent; his purpose of seeking specific resources is really an excuse to shower you with gifts. he appreciates how headstrong you are throughout the tragedies you faced, wishing you give yourself more credit. he has faith in your capability as a sovereign, even if you don’t agree. 

he’s not here to play with your feelings, is he?

𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐈.

house ruan is revered by academia as geniuses of the century, yet rarely shows up in public as they care less about being in the spotlight. rather, they dedicate their lives to science. their daughter carries the household name with grace and elegance, though it can’t be said the same with her experiments in which she entrusts you to be her assistant.

lady ruan mei is interested in the concept of life. cycles of birth, growth, and death. existence of the living. development of cognition, emotions, and behaviors. they’re fascinating to her. creating lifeforms makes you feel some sort of sorrow; your creation is modeled after yourself. then you wonder how your family reacted when you were born.

soon you’re asked by the scientist about your existence, and whether you believe the gods can answer that. now that you think about it, were they involved in your regression? the human race worships the power of the heavens: creation and destruction. death is inevitable, but can the gods also rewrite reality? if they choose to send you back in time, did they want you to redeem yourself?

why bother going so far if you’re going to screw up again?

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘.

no one hosts festivities as grand as house oak. under the impression that you’ve been secluded in your room grieving over the previous sovereign, they’ll throw a small party to cheer you up and celebrate your upcoming ascension. the thought of announcing you want to abdicate the throne is tempting, but their efforts will go to waste so you scrap it. might as well keep up a front and plan your next moves.

you’re welcomed into the venue by the high priest sunday, the organizer of this party. you’re feeling nervous, not because of the amount of guests but because of his overwhelming presence. he doesn’t seem familiar, or are you misremembering? do you still feel unwell, your majesty? behind the high priest is a young woman who bears some resemblance to him, and everything all at once falls into place.

his sister is the precious sun of his life, executed by the eclipse. the high priest follows the royal family without hesitation, only for his loyalty to be questioned at her expense. he isn’t the type to act so rash, but for her he’ll go to great lengths to exact his revenge. you lie to the siblings that you’re fine and tell the high priest to take care of her. there’s more than meets the eye regarding your behavior, but he just agrees to not arouse any suspicion.

what secrets have your people been hiding from you?

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.

there are twin raccoons that practically live in your garden and are your servants’ worst nightmares. somehow they’re kind of like you - living in luxury while rotten to the core. you remember ordering your servants to exterminate them last time, so you take them instead so you won’t freak them out, much to your advisor’s dismay.

later you discover that caelus and stelle are shapeshifters who lost their memories, with their only lead being a magenta-haired woman. to your surprise they love to gossip, which proves themselves useful to be your spies, gathering intel on the current news that could coincide with the ones in the previous timeline. they can also find information about that woman. killing two birds with one stone. 

sometimes you worry about their work ethic, considering how chaotic they can be. for instance, their unhealthy obsession with trash cans. as much as you need them to get the job done, you realize you’re nothing better than your family. those two are extensions of yourself, learning about the world just as you are. so you step back and let them have fun with scraps. they’ll get to their missions eventually.

they appear to be loyal to a fault so there’s no way they’ll betray you, right?

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt ~ Honor to Us All ~ Gotham as one true the most haunted city edition

~~~~~

Instead of a welcoming banner in front of a city was an old column, so familiar to a boy, with a warning inscription:

"To outsiders mad enough to attack Gotham: You will be forced to understand that dead soldiers will also go into battle. And having risen to protect, they will be ready to perish all again, So no one of the living would die near them."

Danny smiled with love. 'I’m home, Mother.' Ghost whispered into the void. And Gotham answered.

~~~~

Danny: My Lady, I brought you the crown of Pariah Dark. And The Ring of Rage. They’re gifts to honor the Gotham family. Lady Gotham: The greatest gift and honor is having you on my side, child.

~~~~~

Danny Fenton was born in Gotham and lived here until his parents decided to move. The city didn’t accept them.

'When I die, I want to be one of the Gotham Knights.' Little Danny with pride and eagerly reported to his parents after visiting the Battle Glory of Gotham Museum on a school trip. This evening, Danny learned that not all his plans should be told to his parents.

Danny know his parents are crazy about ghosts. and that all ghosts are "bad". But obviously, the ghosts they talk about, and his, or rather Gotham's, ghosts are completely different creatures. The spirits of the defenders are those who, even in the darkest of times, make the shadows of the Gotham a protection to the citizens.

But that knowledge is his little secret for now. Because if he starts arguing he’ll be punished and he won’t be able to run off to the roof where he’s arranged to meet Robin. Robin’s cool! He works with one of the 'still-living' knights. And he knows more about the city than anyone. Danny doesn’t want to offend his friend.

~~~~~

Mr Lancer doesn’t understand why the lecturer about ghosts, Constantine, after seeing Danny, said something about the bloody gothamites and their inability to stay underground. It wasn’t nice at all. Mr Lancer doesn’t blame Mr Fenton for smiling at the man a little aggressive and viciously. Poor boy probably didn’t know how to respond to his behavior. Danny moved to Amity Park a long time ago and did not stand out at all. So what was this man’s problem?

Danny only half dies because Lady Gotham blessed him when he was a child. So when Danny sees snow-white hair and glowing green eyes in the mirror, he is not frightened but surprised that the Lady protected him even though he is not living in Gotham now.

~~~~~

Danny knows gothamites don’t consider that Gotham is a part of the USA. Even their Metropolis neighbors are just pathetic cowards, unable to withstand the hardships of life. No, really. Why the hell would they be patriots of the country that thinks they’re its dirty secret? This opinion is shared by old ones and children, rich ones and residents of Crime Alley, heroes and villains.

Danny loves Gotham. And he likes local jokes about how if one of their supervillains ever took power enough to threaten the government, he would be obliged to release them from that citizenship. Otherwise, he would be shamed and ridiculed by the inhabitants.

Phantom is not a villain. But for Gotham? For their common purpose? He is ready to pretend to be.

~ A ghost can bring his city ~ Great honor in one way ~

Gothamites remember that the child of mad scientists was the only person Boy Wonder was willing to call a friend. They remember how boys' laughter was heard from rooftops and from alleys on particularly dark nights. And they know whose restless spirit has returned to mourn the death of the second Robin.

The boy’s parents must be fools. Many outsiders are. They call their blessing a curse. People die in Gotham. And not all of them come back. Residents know that these ones are chosen by Lady Gotham herself.

The public enemy of Amity Park number 1? What nonsense. He is not theirs anything! In Gotham they will accept the Phantom as a guard, as a silent shadow, as a villain or a hero. In any kind. Because he belongs here. He should be part of their dance between life and death. He should be amidst dark alleys and acid rains, gliding between fear and laughter in the air.

Even local villains experience strange yearning. Like something’s wrong. Like a piece of a puzzle that’s lost. Therefore, the local abandoned observatory is empty, and none of them is in a hurry to call it their territory. Because it will be in demand, it will be loved and needed. It’s only a matter of time.

Let the spirit of Gotham guide you home, child. Dead gothamite is still gothamite. Which means there will always be a place for you.

~~~~~

When Danny first enters his favorite cafe in his Phantom form and with a wound on his leg, he doesn’t expect a cleaning lady to yell at him immediately for the blood on the floor. With a mop in his hands and with already bandaged leg, Danny feels as if all his worries had gone. They are not afraid of him. Of course. No one in Gotham would avoid him because of glowing eyes and sharp teeth. And that’s nice.

The waitress throws a tray of food on a table next to him: Welcome dinner for the wandering son of the alley. Red Hood said it's your usual order. He’ll be waiting for you on the gargoyle. You should know which one.

~~~~

If parents listened to his childhood stories about good ghosts, they would know that the Phantom is not special. He is not an anomaly of ghost nature and not a mistake. He is one of many who always were and will be defenders of the city. Danny stands in front of the costume that he admired years ago. He's ready to take another shift at work. The remains of his colleagues can rest quietly this night. Lady will wake them only when in dire need.

[jaeedraszaerysz]

YOU CANT EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED ☆ JOFFREY BARATHEON

Masterlist

Warnings: joffrey obviously, swearing, mentions of murder and war, mentions of incest.

Summary: being joffrey baratheons cupbearer as the last targaryen in Kings landing was bound to be eventful, just not in the way that pleases you. Until...

Notes: reader is FEMALE also to fit in with the context of this fic, joffrey is around 17-18 and the reader is 19 ish making her 6 years younger than viserys and 4 years older than daenerys in season 1

___________________________________________

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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Being born a targaryen was like a game of Russian roulette. You were either blessed with great kindness and gentleness or cursed with madness and cruelty. In your case, it had been the former thankfully.

According to the maesters and other occupants of Kings landing you had been the most peaceful of the three targaryen babies to have been born of aerys II, the mad king. You had never cried or wailed or screamed, only smiled and attempted to befriend any lord, lady, knight or servant who came to cross your path.

But when the rebellion came and your father was dethroned and executed by jaime lannister your life had been flipped. Your brother rhaegar was dead along with all of his children, your other brother viserys and your mother, pregnant with another targaryen had fled, leaving you.

You didn't know why. You were still only a child of 3. No one else seemed to know either. So, Robert baratheon, the new king of the seven Kingdoms, decided to keep you. You were to be raised in Kings landing by a nurse and tywin lannister, having worked on your father's council before his death, made sure that you were educated properly.

By the time you had turned ten years of age, it was almost that your taragryen lineage had been forgotten, except for the obvious snowy hair and violet eyes. But no one that actually mattered seemed to pay attention to it any more.

You had grown close to cersei lannister in your teenage years, despite her being almost twenty years older than yourself. She was nice to you and as you grew, so did her eldest son, Prince joffrey. And then her others, princess myrcella and Prince tommen.

You were a bright girl, smart and kind. You had even been known to summon a smile from the Knight commonly referred to as the hound, sandor clegane. However, you had very little friends and were often seen wandering around or sitting by the flowers in the gardens, staring out into the sea or the city below.

By the time you had turned ten and seven you were truly a sight to behold, having inherited the targaryen beauty of your ancestors. But, as the small council came to realise that marrying off the only targaryen in westeros to a rich or powerful lord may not have been the most amazing idea, the king decided to appoint you as joffreys cupbearer.

You were good for the job, you listened attentively, you were smart and quick. And most importantly there wasn't anything distinct about you that joffrey could complain of and have you removed for.

So that's what became of you. You became his cupbearer and followed him around the red keep, accompanied him on his hunts or his short journeys and poured his wine, brought him his food, or anything else he asked for. Of course you were not immune to his cruelty, the opposite actually. He often mocked your unnatural eyes and Strangely perfect competition, he called you a witch, trying to enchant the castle and accused you of whoring about with the knights although you had never been with anyone.

He overworked you and reprimanded you but you were always there to listen, happy to be given a chance. He noticed this and it aggravated him. To see someone who was supposed to be miserable so joyous at the idea of bringing the king his meals and wine and suffering his abuse day and night for the rest of his or her life.

It confused him, how he had his ways so easily with you but not through fear, anger or blackmail, but through pure loyalty and gratitude that your life had been spared and you had been given a chance and something other than death or imprisonment.

He wasn't stupid. He heard the Lords and ladies whisper as you walled behind him. He heard the knights mock as you passed by. Eventually it grew to anger him slightly whenever your name was put down or insulted.

Only he was allowed to do that. And that in mind, joffrey became rather possessive of you in a way.

You listened to him rant. Listened to his drone on about his parents or the peasants or his siblings. About the food and the weather and the sheets. About everything.

And that is how you ended up here, stood in his chambers, listening to him speak of the lady sansa stark and his new betrothal to her. And listening to him rave about how he was still expected to marry the traitors daughter. And you knew ned stark was no such a man, and you were sure he did to, but you listened all the same.

He paced quickly around the room, hands behind his back, until he was called for a meeting of the small council. He was quite busy as of late, what with stannis baratheons army, renly baratheons army aswell now. And the north's new rebellion, robb stark, son of the late ned, proclaiming himself king in the North and marching closer by the day.

Joffrey was the king now, and he was much more cruel as of late, and you thought about it on your way back to your chambers that night. They had been decent enough to give you a separate room in the servants quarters, what with your family name and the risks of you forming alliances that had become more prominently discussed in the recent months you had noticed.

You had heard that viserys was marrying off your sister to the dothraki khal in exchange for an army but the conversation was dropped a while ago.

You had changed into your nightgown and were now stood, brushing your hair gently and staring out of your window to the crashing waves below. They calmed you, but that calm was interrupted by a harsh collection of violent knocks at your door.

You had set aside the brush and quickly gone to answer. Noticing it was joffrey which was unusual as he always sent someone for you, never venturing anywhere near the servants end of the castle.

"Whatever is the matter, your grac-"

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into your neck. He held you in an embrace and you were stunned for a moment, eyes wide and staring at sandor clegane who stood across the hall and shrugged and you.

You had slowly and anxiously returned the hug, moving your hand gently up and down his back as he slowly began to cry. It was almost silent hut you could feel him shaking.

"Your grace, do you-" you let out a breath. "Do you want to come in and sit for a moment?"

He nodded into your shoulder and you guided him into your room, ignoring the silent laughs from the hound as you closed the door, sitting joffrey down on your bed, he rested himself against the headboard, on the side closest to the window.

You had quickly grabbed him a cup of water and offered it to him, he took it and you stood infront of him cautiously.

"Are you alright, your grace?" You asked quietly.

He stopped his slow crying for a moment and looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours.

"I'm a terrible king. I don't know what to do about all the stupid Lords and ladies constantly wanting my attention. I don't know what to do about uncle renly or uncle stannis, about robb stark or my mother or anything."

Your face softened with sympathy for the boy king slightly as you replied.

"You are no such thing, your grace. War is a strange and chaotic thing, no one ever really, truly knows what to do. You're handling it well I'm sure of it, your grace."

He looked down into his lap and them out if the window and into the dark sky.

"Do you really think so?"

"I do, your grace."

He paused and and studied your face, your beautiful eyes and hair, your skin and lips, your figure and everything else about you.

"Why are you nice to me? I am nothing but cruel to you and yet you are happy to serve me. You listen and you don't tire of me. Why?"

"Because, your grace," you spoke softly. "I cannoted ever repay the generosity your family had shown me and I do not find it a chore to listen to you. I do not have any friends, I do not have people to speak to for no one ever wants the risk of speaking to the mad Kings Daughter. But you, your grace, you speak to me, about everything. About your problems, about your feelings. You don't see me as the targaryen girl, you see me as your cupbearer. Nothing more, nothing less, your grace."

You say nervously on the end of your bed, gazing at him. He gestured for you to sit closer and so you shuffled up the bed until you too were leaned against the headboard.

"Your grace, it is improper for someone such as yourself to be laying in such a room, are you sure I cannot escort you back to your chambers, get you some food or some wine?"

He didn't not reply, he just yet again stared out of the window.

"I think of you as much more than that you know." He mumbled.

"I'm sorry, your grace?" You asked, confounded by the statement.

"I think of you as much more than just my cupbearer. Much more."

"Your grace, i am afraid I do not understand quite what you are implyi-"

He lent forward slightly as cupped your check with his hand, his beautiful brown eyes staring into your own vivid, violet ones. He tinged his head slightly and kissed you.

His lips were soft and warm, his kiss gentle. Not at all like you had expected. He pulled away slowly, still keeping eye contact.

"Your grace, i-"

"Joffrey."

"I, I'm sorry i-" he placed a finger over your lips, shushing you softly.

"Just joffrey."

And he kissed you again, this time much more passionately, your lips moving in sync with each other and your heartbeats rising, bodies getting closer and closer.

And that is how you stayed until the morning when cersei found you both, but she never said a word, to either of you, instead choosing to leave quietly.

As she walked back down the corridor, she was joined by tyrion lannister and she looked down at him.

"Well that certainly was not expected to happen any time soon." He stated.

"Well, dear brother, you can't expect the unexpected, can you?

[sapphicbookclub]

Sapphic Books List: Bodyguards

What’s better than women protecting other women? Explore the lives of body guards, knights, and guns for hire!

Fantasy:

The Ruthless Lady’s Guide to Wizardry by C.M. Waggoner

These Feathered Flames by Alexandra Overy

Alpennia series by Heather Rose Jones (Daughter of Mystery, The Mystic Marriage, Mother of Souls, Floodtide)

The Queen’s Curse by Natasja Hellenthal

Sword of the Guardian by Merry Shannon

Elemental Attraction by K. Aten

Science fiction:

Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir (Gideon the Ninth, Harrow the Ninth, Nona the Ninth)

Godfall series by Barbara Ann Wright (Paladins of the Storm Lord, Widows of the Sun-Moon, Children of the Healer, Inheritors of Chaos)

House of Fate by Barbara Ann Wright

Contemporary:

Break in the Storm by Sherryl D. Hancock

Securing Ava by Anne Shade

The Bodyguard Affair by Anna Stone & Hildred Billings

Protecting the Lady by Amanda Radley

Guarded Desires by Anna Stone

Honor series by Radclyffe (10+ book series)

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (19)

19. Premonitions

MASTERLIST

Summary: The snow melts and the dragons danced 

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, dark magic!, intended infanticide, war and all that comes with it, death of secondary characters, mentions of murder and annilhilation,  might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3,2 k

Notes: We are going to fast forward a couple of months. Also, unlike in the White Dragon, I will NOT dwell on the war itself and the details, only those important to our storyline

Aemond was restless

Rhaenyra had not answered to the death of her son, except for the fact that numerous spies had come back to the capital with tales of meetings and reunions, and Lords calling their banners into war, and pledging their allegiance to Rhaenyra…. Lords that conformed more than half of the Crownlands…

The Greens had the Stormlands and the Eastlands… they needed the Riverlands, if they hold them… they will prevent the two biggest armies from coming down against the capital… the Northern army and the knights of the Vale

War was imminent

As all the Houses of the Crownlands falling to Rhaenyra’s side, they needed to move 

Harrenhal

Harrenhal was the destination for Vhagar and her rider, a small army had gone ahead to take the burned castle, and when Aemond arrived… He killed House Strong and all its members, children, the elderly, women, and men, all fell to his sword, and as the day ended, so did the house that was a banner to Aegon the Conqueror himself. 

All of them, but one… Aemond spent two months in the company of Alys Rivers…

“I see him”, she whispered, her dark green eyes looking at the flames in front of her, flaming green in the hearth, she threw herbs at the fire, and it burned even brighter, “he is far away though”, Aemond came close to her, placing his hands in her hips, whispering in her ear

“Can you do it?”, he asked darkly, leaving a wet kiss under her ear

“Babies, my love, are very difficult to bewitch”, she moaned, as she didn’t stop putting things in the fire, “you see, they are protected by things such as love, and innocence, and this one in particular…”, she seemed to see something in the flames, “this baby in particular is protected by a very ancient energy”, he stopped, looking at the fire as well, but he couldn’t see anything in the flames

“What energy?”, he asked, seriousness tightening his voice

“The Old Gods protect him from evil”, she said softly, “and the love not only from his parents, but from his family, and the Lords and Ladies that follow house Stark, and… something else”

“He is some sort of magical baby?”, he asked in a mocking tone

“No, my love, he is just… he has been expected not only by his father, but by many people on the realm of the North, their love and loyalty protect him”, she said, but she couldn’t hide the worry in her face

“Can you do it or not?”

“I’m going to try”, she said 

A low growl awakened you with a jump, as did Cregan, when you adjusted your eyes, you saw that Autumn was standing at the foot of the bed, looking at the door of your room. 

You had never seen her like that, all the hairs in the back of her fur were standing up, were bristled, and she was showing her huge teeth menacingly. 

“Autumn?”, Cregan called, standing from the bed, grabbing his sword from beside the nightstand and then he unsheathed it, but to the surprise of all of you, there was no one there. The door was opened, yes, but the hallway was empty, the giant Direwolf was growling at thin air

“What is happening?”, you asked, sleepily, Cregan was looking at the door, but again he was met with nothing, he then looked back at Autumn and she wasn’t growling anymore, but she had her golden eyes pointed in that direction

“What is it girl?”, he asked again, he walked out of the room, into the hallway to find it completely empty, only the guards, in the end of it near the stairwell, in a second Cregan came back, he looked in the crib at his son and the sleeping puppies and he breathed more relaxed, he then petted Autumn’s fur and went back to bed, The direwolf’s stand was now more relaxed, she even laid down again, but her golden eyes were set on the door.

“What was it?”, you asked sleepily

“It was nothing”, Cregan whispered again the skin of your shoulder, hugging you tightly

“You sure?”, you asked, and then you felt Cregan’s warm breath in your neck

“Sometimes the Direwolfs see things we cannot”

“That doesn’t make me feel better”, you giggled, because you believed he was kidding, and you fell back to sleep in your husband’s arms. 

The simple human eye couldn’t see it, but Autumn could see the looming shadow trying to enter the room, to go near the crib, at her growls the shadow stopped and stayed at the entrance, but then it disappeared in thin air, the mission failed. 

Alys watched you in the flames with a frown, but as she felt Aemond’s arms around her, she relaxed when he kissed her neck

“Did you do it?”, he asked

“I couldn’t”, she admitted

“What about him?”, he asked, “What about Cregan Stark?”

“That is something else entirely”, she said then, but she didn’t like what she saw, she turned around to see him, and he looked down at her with a content smile on his face. "you will have your chance with Cregan Stark", she whispered, "I have seen it, him burning under Vhagar's flames", she chanted, her voice entrapping him like a siren's song.

When Autumn put her pups in Rickon’s crib, they were fluffy beans, they hadn't even opened their eyes yet, they were newborns just like your baby, but they were growing quickly, you giggled trying not to step on them, as you were trying to get dressed. 

There were still very small, the size of cats with triangles as tails and their ears still down and floppy, but they were super cute 

They were growing their teeths and found no better practice than your shoes, they nibbled at your feet as you moved around the room. Luckily, their teeth weren't big enough to injure you yet. 

Autumn was in the corner, looking at you as you walked around the room, watching her puppies, she was taken with you now, not leaving your side when you were in the room, and her pups

“Are you ready gorgeous?”, Cregan asked as he entered your chambers, you jumped in surprise, you had not heard him approach and he was probably staring at the scene, Autumn, six pups, your son in his crib, and you walking around the room 

“Yes”, you said, adjusting your clothes 

“I’m not sure if I want you flying alone right now”, he said, worried, “that psychopath is out there”

The snow had melted, armies were being assembled, and Jacaerys was going to go back to Dragonstone. The plan was for you to go with him, to get Vhaelar back, and to see Rhaenyra and surrender the North formally to her.

“I know”, you said, looking back at him, “but I will be in and out, and they will never know I went”, you said with a shy smile, “besides I need Vhaelar here, where she can protect us”

“I know”, he still hugged you tightly in his arms, his face buried on your neck. “Are you sure you are ready?”, he asked then, and you nodded

“The maester cleared me”, you assured him, “it’s going to be alright”, you wanted to tell him you didn’t want to leave Rickon, that the very thought of it ripped your heart to shreds, but if you did he was never going to let you go and you needed to do this, you needed to understand what was happening in the South.

And to get your dragon! 

“The nannies and I will take care of Rickon”, Cregan promised you

“You better”, you mocked, and he smiled warmly, you looked at your son. It was funny, one of the little pups had taken to him specially, and was cuddling with him in his crib, a little gray fur ball 

You took your son in your arms and cradled him against your chest, Cregan hugged you tightly as you did

“Please take care”, he whispered in your ear

“I will return within the week, I promise”, you answered, without stopping looking at your son in your arms, you truly felt like your heart was breathing and moving outside of your body

You left Rickon in his crib as you turned your eyes on Cregan, and as he met them with his own, he was surprised. You were looking at him with desire and he caught you right then

“What?”, he asked, as you just draw a sword on him, you only smiled widely

“There is something I want us to do before I left”, you whispered with a sneaky smile, he blushed, but he smiled

“Are you sure?”, he asked, you smiled

“I want another one”, you whispered, looking at Rickon, and he smiled widely

“Perfect, because I want another one too”, he chuckled, and he threw himself at you, catching your lips in his, and embracing you.

“WAIT! NOT IN FRONT OF THE CHILDREN!”, you laughed as he hugged you tightly against him 

. . . 

Jace looked at you mockingly when he saw you coming all messy, with your hair disarranged and a goofy smile on your face

“Alright”, he growled, and you just giggled

Vermax was restless, you could tell he didn’t like people, but he looked at you as you approached him, and he growled in warning

“Jace”, you called, the brunette raised his hand

Now you realized why they called him the “ill tempered”, it took you a good hour, but finally, Jace and you took to the skies on his back

It was the first time you flied on a dragon that wasn’t Vhaelar 

the flight was long, and still cold, you and Jace were dress for winter and still struggled, you decided to flight until you reached Dragonstone, it was a long jump, but, with the current war playing out all over the Kingdoms, you really didn’t know who to trust, except the Arryn’s

Luckily, you arrived in Dragonstone at night, and even though you were happy to be here, and relieved everything seemed fine, you already were missing your baby, Rickon, Jace smiled back at you as you approached the castle by the long stone bridge.

It was the middle of the night, everyone was asleep but a handful of guards that received you and led you to your chambers.

“Queen Rhaenyra shall receive you in the morning”, it’s the only thing they said as they left you at the doors of the same room you stayed in with Cregan, a year ago.

Gods you missed them, your husband and child.

The very next day, you were received, as promised, by your cousin, the Queen, and her entire court/family, and everyone greeted you warmly, but you could feel the cold, the mourning and loss of Luke, even though it had been two months already.

“I came in representation of house Stark, dear cousin, my queen”, you greeted, “the North is yours”, she smiled solemnly and bowed her head

“Cousin, I’m afraid I will need more than words, I need them to march South”, she said firmly, you could see the fire in her eyes, the seriousness in her voice, clearly the gentle smile and kind eyes were gone, smoked off by the death of one of her children.

“It was a hard winter”, you tried to explain, “but Cregan is calling his banners as we speak”, you assured her, and she just nodded.

Everyone around you kept talking about battles, and wars, how the Baratheon army was ready to march, and how the Greens took Harrenhal, you trembled when you heard who in particular had taken it.

“He is clearly defying us!”, said Daemon, “we need to take it back!”

“What will they do with it anyways?”, asked another, “The usurper named Criston Cole as his hand, he clearly doesn’t know what he is doing”, he laughed, but you didn’t think that was a laughing matter, Criston Cole was no idiot but a seasoned soldier and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard 

“I agree”, said Rhaenyra, “but also…”

“My Queen”, the meeting was interrupted by the maester, who came rushing in with a letter in hand, “an urgent message from Lord Stauton!”, he said as he rushed to Rhaenyra’s side

Your cousin took the scroll and read it, she got serious all of a sudden, and she looked at Daemon

“The green are threatening Rook’s Rest”, she said, “Cole is there, with an army, Lord Stauton managed to close the gates to the city but he is being laid siege upon”, whispers and dark words were being exchanged in the room, “he calls for help”

“Of course we need to send someone!”

“He is our ally”, many sentences were exchanged but RHaenyra seemed truly puzzled

You were interrupted by a sharp pain in your breasts, and you had to excuse yourself from the meeting. The maester warned you it might happen, your milk accumulating in your breast without RIckon to drink it. You whined pathetically when you found yourself alone in the hallway.

Rhaenys soon joined you, with that maternal look in her eyes she only saves for you 

“Looks like my body also misses my child”, you excused with a smile, she embraced you tightly against her, comforting you 

“How is he?”, she asked once you separated, she accommodate a hair strand behind your ear

“Oh, he is so beautiful, sometimes i look at him and I can’t believe he is real”, you explained, and when Rhaenys looked into your eyes she found them filled with love, “but at the same time, it’s scary how real he is and how much I love him!”, you said then

“That is what it is like”, she said, you shared a complicit smile, and you felt sad because she had lost her two children… but she has grandchildren now… she held you hands in hers

“When all of this is over, I will go and meet him, maybe stay a bit in the North with you”, she offered, and only that made you forget all about your pain

“Nothing would make me happier”, you promised her

“It is done then”, she said, and you smiled widely

“You promise?”, you asked

“I promise” 

“Good”

You didn’t really want to play a part in the war, so after the Dragonstone Maester gave you a few mixed herbs to soothe your pains, you decided to do what you came here to do… 

Motherhood had really taken a toll on your body as you panted trying to regain your breath and reach the top of the Dragon mount. But you didn't need to, Vhaelar showed up in all her glory, with her signature growl you could recognize everywhere.

She landed down the hill, she was go big it made the earth near you shake, you had missed her and almost forgotten how beautiful she was, you haven't seen her in almost a year

“Ritzas, Vhaelar”, [Hello, Vhaelar], she cooed in response, greeting you, coming so close you petter her snout, “Nyke missed ao”, [I missed you] 

You feared she might not take to you after leaving her here, but, she did, you could feel the bond strengthening.

There wasn’t much left to say, or to talk with the rest of your family, Rhaenyra was not the same anymore, she didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to chat or ask about your life in the North. She wanted war, she wanted blood, she wanted her throne and she wanted revenge, so the best thing for you to do was to go back to Winterfell and give her an army, not promises. 

So after you said your goodbyes to your family, the very next morning, you flew back to Winterfell. 

This time, as your dragon was bigger, you arrived home as the sun was setting, only three days after you left, you were glad you were home, of course Cregan was there to greet you, as the snow had melted into water and the water had made the soil under you mud, the courtyard was a bloody mess but you couldn’t care less as you let your husband embrace you in his arms.

“How is Rickon?”, is the first thing you asked and he chuckled

“He is very well”, he said calmly, “the nights had been a nightmare though… he missed his mommy”, you smiled widely, and you barely greeted Sara as you went running to your rooms to see him. You gather him in your arms and he opened his violet eyes just for you

“Rytsas ñuha dōna valītsos”, [Oh hello my sweet boy], yes you were speaking High Valyrian to RIckon so he could inherit it, “konīr iksis mirri jaelan ao naejot rhaenagon”, [there is someone I want you to meet]

You carried him outside once you made sure he was dressed for the weather, and as Cregan who was speaking to the Maester of arms of Winterfell, he opened his eyes widely

“No!”, he said

“You had you turn, now I have mine”, you said, not taking a no for answer

“This is different! that is a huge dragon!”, he said, pointing outside the walls

“You promised Cregan”, you said one more time as you were crossing the huge gates, “trust me please?”, you asked, seriously, he looked into your eyes and found nothing but determination, so he sighed and nodded, you looked back at Vhaelar who was in the same spot where you landed with her, and you walked towards her slowly

Cregan stood a few feet behind you, but he didn’t even dare to move.

“Vhaelar”, you called, “bisa iksis Rīkon”, [this is Rickon], you introduced. Her golden eyes looked at you with curiosity and then at the bundle in your arms, she leaned in even close her, so she could smell him, “issa hen nyke, ñuha tresy”, [he is from me, my son] 

As she was smelling him, she closed her huge eyes and when she opened them up again, her pupil had enlarged, making them seem almost entirely black, as she cooed at him. You smiled widely seeing her interaction

She drew a happy, gentle roar as she kept gazing at him, you made sure his little face was exposed to your bonded dragon. Rickon seemed to look at Vhaelar with his Valyrian eyes, but he was just too small yet to give a real reaction. 

Vhaelar raised her head and cooed once more, before she turned around slowly not to crush you or push you and she took flight

You turned around happily and Cregan was standing there, with a huge smile on his face

“That was incredible”, he said, “she seemed to take to him”, he admired

“They couldn’t have bonded, but yes, she did seem to understand who he was”, you were so happy, Cregan took RIckon in his arms and then he took you both into Winterfell, the night was falling over the North and you needed to rest. 

Aemond was even more restless as he was placing his armor on him, with the help of Alys

“When will it happen?”, the dark haired woman could feel it in his skin, the desire of another, the desire to kill and conquer, she didn’t like the first part, but she smiled nonetheless

“Soon my love”, she purred in his ear

“When?”, he insisted, she frowned leaning over and kissing him under his ear 

“In thirty sunrises the wolves will come for the lands of the rivers”, she chanted, “they will meet the dragon and burn under their flame”, it was so, she had seen it

“IN a month then”, he said, Alys looked into his eye through the mirror in front of them, and she finally saw him smile

“That is what I have seen”, she said

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[alalaya2]

Tim Drakes Sleeping habits save the earth

10 the Crows are coming

In Celtic Mythology Morrigan is either Three sisters or one Goddess with Three Forms the Triplicate goddess. First there is Badb the Crow she is the foreshadow of the carnage to come in war, next is Nemain the havoc of war, and then there is Morrigan the Phantom Queen herself she is Death and Victory of battle. The truth of the Infante Realm is that it’s just a ‘Genetic Quirk’ on her mother’s side of her Family to have Three forms. Clockwork’s were three different ages, she had forewarning of war, war on the battlefield and when the war is won. If Pala Gotham hadn’t been Cursed, she would show her other two forms as well. As it was Morrigan was covered in Crows feathers she could Feel the stir of the battle Brewing in the air.

The Realms seem to be holding its breath the normal ebb of the Ectoplasm was stilled. This part of her was the part that knew things before they happened. It was the part that told her that she would fade and come back. It was the part that told her that her children would suffer, and it was better than the alternative. Normally this part of her would bother her but not today. This was going to be a battle worth it, normally war is not something that she looks forward to she is a Ghost, and a Goddess. The Fighting part is never a big issue, in fact she loved a good fight. It’s the Carnage, the loss of family and life that she doesn’t like.

This Battle, there were no large grey areas. The GIW were the ones in the wrong and everyone that mattered knew it. In the last 200 years there was only a hand full of groups that really deserved the beating they received, not all the individuals mind you, but the group as a majority did. The Nazis were such a group of leaders that deserved the thrashing they received. Morrigan Bared her teeth in anticipation at the injustice being corrected. It was time to join her daughter and with their reunion her curse would be broken.

Gothemites like the Celtics of old were part of the reason there were sayings like ‘Fuck around and you will find out.’ Lady Gotham got her Temperament from her after all. As she stepped through the portal that would take her to the spot ever one would be meeting at, she knew The Green Lanterns and the Justice League were going to start a Riot.

Fright Knight had offered the use of a portal to get to them to Earth faster he was happy to see his father, but he wanted to save the young king first then he would Celebrate the return of his family. A Pre reunion fight would be a good way to start the Celebration, plus His sister would kill him if he started the party without her. About 50 Lanterns were ready to come with him. If they took too long to contact them the guardian would send more, and earths government would fall under their rule until a new world government could be created. Phantom would not be happy if things went that far, and Fright would eat his helmet if they couldn’t handle the upcoming fight before they got to that point.

He was looking forward to seeing how his sisters Knights would handle the fighting back before she had been Cursed, she had been one of the best fighters in the realm and was the first in line for the throne. If Parish had not taken out their father and Pala was injured when she fought him, she would probably be the Queen of the Infante Realms. As it was she would only accept the best of the best her people had to offer.

Pandora gave him a knowing look “I am looking forward to see how my sisters have progressed with their fighting skills as well I think they will take out more than your families Knights.”

Fright huffed “like my sister would choose weaklings as her Knights”

Pandora Smiled slyly “A wager then, my sisters have better fights you take me on a date your Knights fight better than my living sisters I’ll take you out.”

Fight Knights Sputter is echoed by Clockwork and Frostbite in the Ghost Zone. Fright Knight Straighten up and Bowed to Pandora “I’ll take your wager on one condition I would like to use this fight as our first courting Fight together.” He gently reached out to take one of her hands and squeezed a little.

Pandora squeezed back and Grind showing all her sharp teeth “I accept!”

“Finally it only took you two over a thousand years to get your shit together” yells Lazarus as he throws his hands up in exasperation. “You to have been Mooning over each other I was going to help Clockwork with his Matchmaking if you had taken any longer.”

The new couple Flinched Clockworks Matchmaking planes did work but they were not fun for the people who were involved.

Fight cleared his throat a little in embarrassment “The portal is Ready lets talk about this later” He shuffled a little not taking his hand off Pandora's.

Lazarus Smiled at his son knowingly but didn’t say anything.

The Bat Clan were fascinated as Lady Gotham and Alfred worked together in a terrifyingly competent way planning how to take out the laws and the GIW. Congress, Judicial and President Puck Velasco to Repeal the law as the were looking at the largest Revolution gathering in America since its beginning. President Nightingale had a team going though all current laws to make sure nothing else that would cause problems. It was going to take a while as there were a lot of Laws, and the UN was not going to let something like this slip through for any Country on Earth as the Anti-Echo Acts were breaking Galactic law.

With each moment getting closer, all the teams moving to take out every GIW building. Lady Gotham Seemed to be getting stronger less gaunt and her gray skin looking less chalky. Gotham had always had a muggy feeling in the air, it was always there Night or Day, Hot or Cold, Rain or Very rarely Sunshine it was fading. The Gotham Knights were on edge from it as they had Grown up with the feeling for most of there lives. Bruce had enough “what is going on?”

Dora blinked in surprise and looked up from the plans she was reading at Gotham. Her jaw drops in surprise “her curse has broken.”

This causes the rest of the clan to really look at her “How?” asked Bruce.

“No Idea” Dora’s face became predatorial “she is healing fast she should be fighting fit by the time we are ready to leave. Before she was cursed, she was the top fighter of the realms. This is going to be so fun.”

Gotham Smiled “Yes, it is I can Finally give my knights the full protection I have never been able to give them before. I’ll be at half strength by the meet up time it will take me a few months before I am back to full strength, but I’ve only been about 5% power for the last 200 years.”

Bruce Blinked again “That explains some things.” The Clan looks up at the portal opening in the Cave it was go time!

Previous. Ao3 next

[anemoxlys]

Cregan Stark x reader

The lack of Cregan Stark fics is a problem we need to sort out as a community, it is a severe issue... May write a pt2 if people like this Warnings: Implied Targcest (NOTHING HAPPENS), men Side Note: Your dragon in this is called Rhaegon

Enjoy:

“Sister.” You heard the most unwanted voice of your eldest brother slur from behind you as he stumbled down the corridor, clearly drunk. “Aegon, I believe you should retire to your chambers.” You muttered, turning to walk away and continue on your way towards the library. “I do not think you should marry.” Aegon continued, clearly not taking note of your keenness to leave. “I couldn’t bear the thought of another man touching you, dear sister.” He finished before he tripped over his own feet and hurtled towards the ground. You left shortly afterwards. 

“I do not know why I must be present.” Aegon muttered, clearly unhappy at having to sit through the many men trying to win your titles, money and future children. “I do not know either brother, why don’t you just leave if this angers you so.” You retorted with a snarl before turning to face the next man. 

“Oh seven hells.” You cursed, staring down at the boy who stood before you, him being no older than two and ten. “You dare mock the princess with an infant?” Aegon laughed, eyes narrowing as the boy’s father stepped forwards. “I am aware that my son is young-” He began before he was cut off once more by Aegon, “What could he possibly offer to the princess except for wooden horses and games?” He jeered, causing the other suitors to snicker as well. “I have a good name, my grace, I could also offer my protection.” The child replied. “Your protection!” A man you could not remember the name of snorted, “Let us see how well you protect yourself before you claim to protect her highness.” The boisterous man continued, drawing his sword at the boy. “Aegon.” You said, standing as the man drew closer to the now trembling child. “Fear not sister, I doubt the child will harm Ser Horton.” He replied, a sick grin spreading across his lips. Your eyes scanned the sea of suitors, desperately trying to find someone who would stop this cruel mockery. 

You watched, mortified, as Horton brought his sword past his head and began to bring it back down on the child who’s own sword was stuck in the scabbard he clearly received a few days prior. “Pick on someone your own age.” A gruff voice spat as the sound of steel against steel sounded. A man with the most gorgeous brown hair stood with his back turned to you, blocking Horton’s sword from reaching the now snivelling child. With no hesitation, you ran down the steps in the throne room and fell to your knees before the child. “Are you alright?” You asked, taking the small boy’s hands on your own. “I apologise my lady.” He sobbed, head turned to the floor, “I am a fool to think myself worthy of you.” “Nonsense, you will grow to be a fine knight, you are simply not of the right age yet.” You replied, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead before turning to his father with a glare. “He is far too young to be courting someone of my age, you have placed his life in danger by doing so. You disgust me.” You hissed, eyes blazing with fury as you turned to face the rest of the suitors, “Cowards, each and every one of you. You stood and watched as this poor child was about to be murdered before your very eyes, and yet none of you did anything. You are less worthy than the boy you failed to consider.” You finished your rant by turning to face the only man in the room you could stand to look at, “Thank you Ser…” You began before trailing off at the realisation that you neither knew his name nor noticed the striking grey eyes that stared at you as if you were the only woman alive. “Ser Cregan Stark, princess.” He replied, taking your hand in his as he pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Well then, thank you my lord. You have proved yourself an honourable and just man. Would you care to accompany me to the gardens for a walk? I wish to clear my mind.” You offered, extending your hand for Cregan to take, which he did momentarily.

“Is the north pleasant, my lord?” You asked, breaking the peaceful silence the two of you had fallen into. “Very my lady, the views I believe would be much to your liking.” He replied with a fond smile. “Tell me my lord, are all men of the North as handsome as you, or did you just get lucky?” You grinned, leaning slightly closer to the man as he looked down at you. “I consider myself to be better looking than average, but I’ll leave that judgement up to you, your highness.” He replied with a smile. The two of you fell back into an easy going rhythm of silence before you once again broke it, “Do you have many direwolves Lord Stark?” “I do indeed princess, our lady just had a litter of pups a few moons ago.” He elaborated further. “I do so love Direwolves, I find them very beautiful.” You smiled, thinking back to your previous trip up north. “You have been North princess?” He asked, mildly surprised. “Yes, never as far as Winterfell though, and not for many years now.” You replied sadly. “I shall extend an invitation the moment I return home, if you are not with me that is.” He returned, a smile spreading across his lips as he finished speaking. “How very forward Lord Stark, whatever would my brother’s think?” You teased, a slight blush forming over your cheeks at the pleasant thought. “I think that we should-“ He began before he was interrupted with a loud snap of a twig. “Sister, Aegon has been searching for you.” Aemond muttered as he stepped away from the tree he was leaning against.“They would think that-” He began before he was interrupted, “Sister, Aegon has been searching all over for you.” Aemond muttered, pushing himself away from the tree he’d been leaning against. “Of course brother.” You replied, turning to face Cregan Stark and wishing him a brief farewell before pressing a kiss to his cheek and whispering something into his ear, “I would very much like to take you up on your offer Lord Stark.” You finished, pulling away with a soft smile before following an awaiting Aemond out of the gardens.

“You smell like wet dog.” Aemond muttered as you caught up to him. “Don’t be mean Aemond.” You replied, giving your brother a quick glare before continuing, “I rather like him.” You both fell into a silence shortly after and soon enough you were once more in the throne room. “Sister!” Aegon grinned as the room fell silent again. “Brother.” You replied, standing in the doorway, “What is it you needed me for?” You asked, refusing to step further into the room. “We must continue, my dear, there are many more suitors.” He grinned, inviting you to sit beside him as you reluctantly walked forwards.

Suitor after suitor came and went before Cregan Stark was officially presented as a suitor himself. “Lord Stark, your highnesses.” The herald announced as you immediately sat up straighter and a smile appeared on your lips. “Lord Stark, how good it is to see you again.” You smiled as the Lord bowed his head at your brother. “The sentiment is shared princess.” He replied with a smaller smile dusting his cheeks. “Have you seen a dragon before, my lord?” You asked. “I’m afraid to say I haven’t princess.” He answered. “Well then, you must allow me to show you mine, it is only fair that should I meet your direwolves you should meet my dragon, is it not?” You smiled before leaning back against your chair. “I believe so, your highness.” He grinned before turning to your brother to say the usual proposal.

“So Lord Stark, are you ready?” You smiled, taking his hand as you pulled him down the corridor towards the dragon pit. He only laughed in response, a smile spreading across his features as you enthusiastically danced down the hallways. “Rhaegon Iksan kesīr! (I am here!)” You called out as you entered the pit. “Qilōni's iā sȳz valītsos? (Who’s a good boy)” You whispered as you approached your dragon, followed by Cregan Stark. “Bisa iksis cregan Stārke, issa iā raqiros, sagon sȳz (This is Cregan Stark, he is a friend, be good.)” You murmured, reaching your hand out to pet the dragon before turning to Cregan and speaking, “This is Rhaegon, he is nice, do not worry.” You smiled, reaching your hand out for Cregan to take. When he did, you slowly brought it up to Rhaegon’s nose before releasing your hold. “sȳz valītsos (good boy)” You whispered, walking along the side of your dragon before speaking again, “ilagon (down)” You spoke before Rhaegon lowered himself to the ground. “Come, lord Stark.” You grinned, once again offered your hand for Cregan to take. “You are very unexpected princess.” He chuckled, taking your hand. “What did you expect my lord?” You laughed, climbing on top of Rhaegon as Cregan followed after, more slowly. “Call me Cregan and maybe I will enlighten you princess.” He returned, hands wrapping around your waist as Rhaegon began to move. “Only if you stop calling me princess Cregan.” You replied, gripping onto the reigns as you felt Rhaegon about to take flight. “It would be my pleasure, Robyn.” He muttered, now fully pressed against you as Rhaegon took off.

“Is it not freeing?” You laughed, turning to face Cregan who looked pale as a ghost. He silently nodded but the grip he held on your waist spoke otherwise. “You have to trust me for a moment.” You chuckled as he froze and stared up at you in horror as you handed him the reins, “You just have to hold them for a few minutes, Rhaegar knows what to do.” You finished, standing up as you spoke much to the horror of the Stark Lord. “gīda rhaegon, ao gīmigon skoros naejot gaomagon (calm Rhaegon, you know what to do).” You called before jumping off of your dragon. “Princess!” You heard Cregan call in horror after you. With a large smile you opened your arms and grabbed a hold of the pieces of fabric. “I told you to trust me my lord.” You said as you flew alongside your dragon. “Where are we going Princess?” He asked, his eyes now filled with amazed horror. “Where would you like to go Cregan?” You countered, a softer smile now spreading across your face at the sight of Cregan Stark atop your dragon, his cheeks pink and his eyes so beautifully alive. “You are very pretty my lord Stark.” You murmured, landing back on your dragon. “Many people have called me many things, no one has dared to call me pretty before my princess.” He chuckled as you sat down facing him. “No one has seen you like this before.” You returned, lying down on your dragon's back. “Well thank you princess, you too are pretty.” He chuckled, tentatively lying down beside you. “You never said where you would like to go, I hear Dorne has very pretty views.” You suggested, turning to face Cregan. “My lady, you are by far the prettiest view a man could ask for.” He replied, making your cheeks flush red as a flattered grin spread across your face. “If the fierce and scary wolf of the north thinks I’m pretty I must be doing something right, but do not flatter me too much else I will become insatiable.” You countered, attempting to cool your cheeks down. “Maybe that was my goal princess.” He replied, moving slightly closer to you. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” You returned, also moving slightly closer and then before you could continue your speech you felt lips press against your own.

“I do believe that is the most forward you have been my lord.” You chuckled before pressing your lips to his after the first kiss ended. “Is that such a bad thing?” He chuckled as you began to kiss along his jawline, “I do believe it was rather attractive.” You replied, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Glad to hear it princess.” He smirked before chasing your lips.

“Brother, where is our sister?” Aegon asked, storming through the doorway. “Riding.” Aemond replied nonchalantly, eyes not leaving the book he was reading. “And where is the Stark boy?” Aegon continued, Aemond immediately lifting his eye to stare in horror at his brother. “She would not…” Aemond muttered before realising that you very much would.

“Sȳz Rhaegon (Nice Rhaegon).” You whispered, climbing down from your dragon before assisting Cregan to do the same. “He is most impressive, my lady.” He smiled before taking your hand in his and walking you out of the dragon pit.

“Thank you Lord Stark, I shall discuss matters with my mother. I do hope to see your direwolves soon.” You smiled as Cregan pressed a kiss to your hand, the appearance of a gentleman returned to his face. “I shall make my proposal in the morning princess.” He smiled before bidding you goodnight.

Continue???

Taglist added?

[laenordeservedbetter]

Hi! May I request a fluff fic featuring older Alicent in love with a female reader? I want to see her happy and gay ❤️

Her Savior — Alicent Hightower x Fem!Reader

Words: 2k

Pairings: Alicent Hightower x Fem!Reader, Implied/Referenced Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Warnings: Fluff, hero worship?, One curse word

Hi!! You and me both, anon. Alicent deserves happiness in her life.

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

—

“Where is Queen Alicent?”

“The Queen is in her bedchambers, my lady. She sent Ser Criston to seek you out. Did he not get to you?”

You could assume he did not bother to look. There was likelihood that a part of it was an effect of your doing. Last time he located your locus, you were in the middle of an outburst, going as far as to threatening to dismiss him from the kingsguard if he doesn’t leave you alone.

Criston is not afraid of you, only of Alicent’s wrath if she finds you unhappy. You could give out an effortlessly implicit disapproval of Criston’s abilities and Alicent would ship him back to Dorne in a blink of an eye due to her rising power.

You had met Alicent after Rhaenyra’s wedding – a time where Alicent greatly needed someone. No one thought her and Rhaenyra would fall apart. They were two peas in a pod, sharing a relationship some could go as far to assume was more than just a friendship. Carefree girls who had it all before the expectations from their fathers came piling in. Due to the world not willing to witness women assuming power despite not having a man by their side, it decided to pull them apart; their relationship classified as collateral damage.

During the wedding, a servant stumbled on your dress, spilling three cups worth of wine onto it while you were giving your congratulations to the princess and her future king consort. Alicent, drawn by your presence, offered to aid you in restoring your dress to its former glory in the borders of her room.

You had been distrustful of her kindness, believing there was a secret ploy to gain your house’s support. When you found her motives to be sincere, you let yourself bring your guard down.

Your relationship evolved from there, Alicent understanding Rhaenyra’s wont for breaking the rules in favor of gaining freedom as it grew. Alicent would not apprise you of her consideration in the past of declaring war against Rhaenyra, planning to execute her actions to get Aegon on the throne when Viserys inevitably passes for the reason that you already unintentionally subdued her fear that Rhaenyra will put her children to the sword, averting her feelings of hatred and taking her time to convert it into devotion for you.

The rest is history.

You blow out the fire of the remaining candles in your chambers. Though you don’t give a response, you recognize your handmaiden’s query. Being familiar with your silence, she escorts you to the queen’s resting room.

Criston, who was guarding Alicent’s doors, bows his head. “My lady.”

“Ser Criston.” You answered.

He steps aside to let you in, blocking the pathway for your handmaiden. As insufferable as he could be sometimes, Criston would protect your secrets because he is loyal to Alicent, the woman who gave him a chance to begin again.

You could not comprehend the uncanny arrangement your queen and this knight have going on. However, you appreciated Alicent’s flair for securing allies. Criston is a great fighter. You would count on him to defend Alicent if it ever came down to it.

Whilst Criston closes the door to offer you privacy, you feel a pang of guilt hit your chest as you see Alicent curled up into a chair, asleep. She has not changed out of her dress. Your brows furrow together, eyes flitting to the small table beside her, where you’d hold your own makeshift feasts during the hour of ghosts.

Currently it is the hour of the eel, past dinnertime. A plate hangs near the edge, in danger of falling. It housed your favorite meal. Most of the plates on the table did, the rest of it were Alicent’s. Poor furniture was overflowing with dishes that were untouched! As if you thought you couldn’t feel any guiltier, it dawned on you that Alicent planned to have dinner together.

“Fuck.” You clenched your jaw, angered by your own stupidity for not checking in earlier.

It was too late to wake Alicent. You don’t want to disturb her sleep. She has barely gotten rest these past few days because of Viserys needing her assistance, growing weaker by the day. You make a mental note to arrive back here in the early morning to apologize to Alicent and make sure she eats well.

For the moment, you’ll grant her rest. Moving to Alicent’s bed that accommodated her blanket, you take the fabric in your hands, commending the smoothness of it – the finest silk for the finest queen in Westeros – before putting it on Alicent deliberately. You tuck the edges of the blanket congruously so she won’t get cold later on followed by placing a good night’s kiss on her temple.

Just as you attempt to turn away, Alicent wakes.

“Leaving already, lover?” She muses, voice groggy from sleep.

“Apologies for my tardiness, my love.” Knowing Alicent, she would not go back to sleep when disturbed. There was no point in convincing her. You’ve tried to persuade her during similar positions in the past. Needless to say, you will never try again.

Alicent blinks, folding the blanket serenely like she could care less about your apology. “You came. It’s all that matters.”

You grab the blanket from Alicent, putting it back to the bed where it belonged. Still feeling bad about the whole ordeal, you attempt to ask for forgiveness one more time. “Ali…”

“Y/n.” She says in that authoritative tone she utilizes with her subjects to focus their attention to her point. “We will speak no more of it.”

“I’m beginning to get distraught. You’re starting to sound like Viserys.”

“You could say that, yeah.” Alicent is quite chipper even with you jabbing her with a joke that she normally would have felt insulted by. “Since you’ve graced me with your presence, do you mind if we eat now? Though, I should tell you. Food’s slightly cold.”

You hummed, planting yourself on a stool facing Alicent.

“I don’t mind.”

“Good.”

You ate in quietude; Alicent’s chamber was noiseless, but not uncomfortable. This is what you two needed after a day overflowing with endless conversations befitting of your roles in society – a moment of peace.

From time to time, silence is good regardless of how long it lasts.

Alicent sets her fork downward, wiping her mouth with a clean white cloth, a sign that she plans to tell you something. “Aemond got along with his brother and Rhaenyra’s children today, can you believe it?”

You chuckle, “No, but that’s progress, right?!” Avowedly, you were elated for Aemond. It was not so long ago that Aegon put Jace and Luke up to getting Aemond a pig. The Pink Dread, they called it. You are aware because you were there per Aemond’s request, him having listened to Helaena in the early morning during one of her mumblings about something cryptic as usual.

Aegon, Jace, and Luke were reprimanded by you as you were the only person not of the Targaryen blood that could do such a thing without repercussions. Alicent considered you family, so you were an extension of the Targaryens in people’s eyes.

You were also there to stop Aemond from risking his life just so he could prove himself, reassuring him that he will have a dragon someday.

“I have you to thank for that.” Alicent reached for your hand on the table, caressing your knuckles softly.

“How did I partake in this, if I may ask?” You questioned.

“Jace told me that you said ‘Aemond is of your blood. You lot are Targaryens. If you cannot manage to look out for each other, the house of the dragon will tear itself apart. You all know that you are stronger when united. You must work through your differences. Sooner than late, you’ll have to fight against whoever dares to tear your family asunder. When the time comes, the realm will need four princes to keep everything together. That is your responsibility.’ That seemed to be enough to get their heads straight. Today, they all conspired to make Criston’s day miserable. It was bad for Criston, but good for the children.”

You grinned, glad to hear the news. You’d tell the boys you are proud of them in the morrow as well as to give your thanks for making Criston’s life worse. You don’t know why, but something about him leaves you feeling on edge. “There may be hope for them yet.” You teased.

“They listen to you.”

“Mhm.” You confirmed.

“And they value your counsel like you are also their mother.”

“Alicent, that is not what I had intended…” You trailed off, trying to retract your hand, thinking you overstepped your boundaries with her children. To your surprise, Alicent only held onto it tighter. She didn’t want to let you go.

Alicent’s eyes held no antipathy, seeming like her affection expanded upon observing how well you got along with her children. You’ve been a parental figure in their lives, stepping up in the shoes Viserys should have filled. Every milestone, you were there, not missing out on anything.

Your heart skipped a beat when Alicent pressed her lips against yours to hush your train of thought. Closing your eyes to relish in the warmth that was Alicent, your hands come up to place themselves on her cheeks. Even after all these years, Alicent still felt like coming home after a long journey. If she was a god, you would worship the ground she walks on because for you, Alicent is heaven. Your oasis.

At the end of the night, near the conclusion of reading Alicent a passage from your favorite tale, bodies pressed beside each other for warmth, your dark-haired lover sneaks a hand around your waist while your fingers brush over her back in a soothing manner.

You were close to falling asleep when Alicent murmurs, “You saved me.”

You studied Alicent’s expression but she did not give anything away, “How so?”

“You led me out of a path of hatred. If we didn’t meet, no doubt I’d be a disparate person.” Alicent smiles gently, “You would not like me.” She adds.

“Nonsense. I’d love you still. Whichever version that may be.” You dismiss.

“Even if I have gone mad?” She asks with her voice so small it made you want to put her in your pocket to cherish forever.

“Even if you’ve gone mad.” You certify.

“Will you still love me if you found out that I tried to wage war on Rhaenyra?”

“What kind of – yes, I would.”

“Good because I did try it.”

“Alicent!”

“It was a long time ago. I’ve gotten over it after I fell in love with you.” She exclaims defensively, surprising herself as well when she admitted her former plans to you when she vowed not to.

“How long ago?”

“During her wedding.”

“Okay, well, since you don’t hate her now, I suppose it’s alright.” You breathe out, seeking to imagine a life where Alicent and Rhaenyra did not reconnect but you couldn’t picture it in your mind. It was inconceivable.

“If I was a dragon, would you love me?”

“Of course. Dragons are marvelous.”

“How about if I stole ancient relics for a living?”

“Darling, let’s go to bed.”

“No. Answer my question first.”

“Sure.”

Alicent wriggles herself out of your hold. “That’s all you can say? ‘Sure’?” She asks incredulously.

You attempt to pull her back to you, “I love you, Ali. You know that.”’

“What if I was dirt in your foot? Would you love me then?” Her arms are crossed, pretending to sound upset.

Fortunately, you were familiar with her capers. She needs assurance, is all. Not giving Alicent a choice, you embrace her with a strong grip that she cannot get out of yet still allowing her space to breathe. The succeeding hours of conversation ensued all the way until the sun began to shine. You filled Alicent’s ears with sweet words that you candidly meant until she was content. Alicent values honesty as much as she values you. Your sayings were true at heart. Alicent could listen to your voice all day but she has a query directed to herself that appears regularly, looming in the back of her mind.

How did I get so lucky?

[jaimeslanisters]

dominoes cascading in a line — the library

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

You beam, bright and happy, and he wonders if the real treasure in the Rock wasn’t in its gold or its wealth but rather in the daughters it produced. or moments in aemond's life with a lady of house lannister

crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 2.5k notes: surprise bitch. i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me i promised you guys a dominoes before pawn, didn't i? (: pawn will be coming up and i will be hitting 100k with the next chapter lol sos

Aemond had been six when he first realized his father didn’t love him. It hadn’t been a momentous occasion or anything like that. There hadn’t been an offhand comment or a particular action that had prompted this realization, no big dramatic scene that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He had just looked up one day and looked at his father, at the rotting king in all of his glory, and known that Viserys Targaryen would never care for any of his children with Alicent Hightower, that he would be a stranger to all but one of his children.

He had been six and it had been his birthday.

The children of Viserys Targaryen had had differing responses to that disquieting truth. Aegon lashed out, drinking and whoring and failing at being anything resembling a leal son. Helaena turned inwards, closing herself off from everyone except her brothers, focusing her attention on caring for her insects in a way their father would never do for her. Daeron was inarguably delusional about the whole thing. Father loves us! He’d used to cry, face bright and red, fists clenched at his side. It’s just really hard for him to show it! He loves us! He loves us! He loves us!

At least, he had been delusional. Across the continent in Oldtown, perhaps he had come to terms with it. Father hadn’t gone along to accompany him and say goodbye even if Lord Hand Lyonel Strong had tried to insist on it, had wanted to frame it like an act of goodwill and diplomacy.

Father had said no. He hadn’t given a reason or tried to excuse his behavior. He simply hadn’t wanted to.

Even Daeron couldn’t be foolish enough to try and twist that truth.

Aegon strayed. Helaena hid. Daeron lied.

Aemond couldn’t afford to do the same.

If his siblings couldn’t confront the truth, couldn’t face it, he would. He would be their shield, their sword.

That involved training with the knights in the yard, focusing rather than goofing off like Aegon and their Velaryon nephews. It involved learning all the warrior arts and practicing until he felt like he was about to collapse and then continuing to train past that point until he actually did.

But mostly it involved studying.

Otto Hightower no longer lived in King’s Landing - he hadn’t since even before Aemond had been born - but that did not mean he had relinquished his tight control on his family that still remained in the capitol. His grandfather must have exhausted the ravens and the couriers with the long journey from Oldtown to King’s Landing, sending a couple of letters every month. Sometimes there would be one for Helaena and those were usually accompanied by an ivory statue of a bug or a book that he bought her as a present. Rarely there would be one for Aegon and his brother would always read it as soon as it was handed to him and tear it to shreds as soon as he was done. Once, Aemond had managed to snatch it from him before he could and, in the seconds before Aegon had tackled him to the ground in an uncharacteristic fit of violence, he had managed to catch onto one line.

The greatest curse onto this family is that you were born before Aemond.

It had been easy to let Aegon snatch the letter away after that. He hadn’t tried to get a hold of another letter since.

His grandfather had plenty to say to Aemond directly as it was.

There was always a letter for Aemond from Grandfather. Otto Hightower was not an affectionate man and the letters were always dry and straight to the point, outlining lessons and books that Aemond needed to read if he was to be a good and faithful son of House Targaryen. Rarely did he ever express any emotions in his words and, if he did, it was always shadowed by a sharp reminder of his duty to his family and to the realm.

Still, reading his letters always made Aemond desperately wish that his grandfather was still the Lord Hand, that he was still in the capitol to personally supervise his studying, to give him critiques and the rare praise.

Otto Hightower was a cold father. A poor father if his mother’s neurosis was anything to go off of.

But a poor father was better than no father at all.

It didn’t matter at the end of the day. He didn’t need anyone to hold his hand through the process, certainly didn’t want anyone to. Years of being on his own with only books for company had trained him well. He was used to holing up in the library, hidden away in the back by stacks and stacks of books with only an old, half-deaf septon for company. People didn’t usually come looking for him but people never came looking for him in the library.

Which is why it was especially a surprise when you stumble onto his hiding spot, eyes wide like a doe.

Since the week of your arrival, admittedly, Aemond has been avoiding you. If he thinks back to it, about how his cheeks had flamed red with embarrassment, how you had smiled and he had thought there was never anything as beautiful in the world, he wants to throw himself off the highest tower in the Red Keep out of pure and utter shame.

As sweet as you are and as kind as you can be, you’re a Lannister.

People always said that there was no limit to Lannister pride or ambition and that certainly had to be true for even a little lioness like yourself.

You might be kinder and sweeter than Aemond had thought you would initially be but that didn’t change the fact that there was only one reason that a daughter of House Lannister would stray so far from the Rock.

You were looking for a husband and, if there really was no limit to Lannister ambition, you could only have one goal set in mind.

Aegon.

With the image of you turning your pretty smiles onto Aegon playing before his eyes, he straightens up in his seat as you slow to a stop in front of him.

“My apologies, my prince. I did not expect to find anyone else here.” You say, stumbling slightly over your words in your rush to explain yourself. In your arms, you clutch a book tightly to your chest and it’s only the fact that he’s read that specific book more than a dozen times over that he can recognize it without seeing the name.

His throat is dry and there’s nothing he wants more badly than to just nod and turn back to taking extensive notes on the history of the Andals landing in the Fingers and stubbornly ignoring your existence.

Instead, he rises to his feet, bowing his head, wishing desperately he didn’t feel that slight warmth inside of his chest. “It’s no problem.” He looks down at the book in your arms and, before he can stop himself, he blurts out. “Are you reading Watchers on the Wall?”

You nod, smiling, and Aemond wonders if this is how animals feel when they first stumble into a trap, when their feet land into the snare and they’re yanked upwards to dangle defenselessly.

It can’t be. He doubts they enjoy it as much.

He starts pushing you on the book, carefully and cautiously. You may have just convinced someone else to give you a summary of it, after all, in order to endear yourself to the royal family.

But just as you had when you had first met him, you catch him off guard again.

You’re sharp and quick-witted and, if the fact that you had asked Maester Rodrik to give you further insight on Brandon the Breaker meant anything, you were just as voracious with learning as he was.

He wants to resent you.

He wants to resent you so bad.

But he can’t, not with the way your eyes light up as you talk about the Wall, about the Night’s King and his corpse queen. You lean in close to him, closer than anyone who wasn’t a member of his family has ever done. It’s not inappropriate, nothing that someone would scold or deride you for, but it’s closer than anyone has ever wanted to be to him.

It’s intoxicating and, for once, Aemond understands why Aegon is constantly imbibing, why he drinks more wine than he does water.

If it feels as nice as this does, some of his brother’s behavior finally makes sense.

When you finish your conversation, and you rise to your feet to leave, Aemond feels an unfamiliar panic rise up in him and, before he can think it through, he speaks. “If you’re not busy, you can stay and read some more. There are other stories in the book that I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on.”

You smile as bright and lovely as ever.

You settle back in your seat and Aemond turns back to his notes except now, he can’t think about the crossing of the Andals, can’t make his mind focus on all of the petty kings that had fought in vain against the invaders. All he can think is about how the two of you are sitting close enough that, when you flip a page in your book, the sleeve of your dress catches on his tunic.

It’s all appropriate. You’re both ten. You’re children sitting and reading in a library. Not even the most pious septon could find fault nor could the most insidious gossip find any fodder for their rumors.

But it doesn’t stop his heart from beating loud and hard in his chest.

No one ever wants to be this close, save his mother.

There must be something wrong with you. There must be. Perhaps you think that he’ll tell Aegon about your sweetness, about your cleverness, and your desire to learn.

He won’t care, he wants to tell you. He won’t care about anything except for what’s between your legs.

But he doesn’t say it. He doesn’t say anything. He just sits with you, listening to the sound of you turning the pages quietly and the rustle of your clothing.

Eventually, he turns back to his notes, forcing his eyes to focus on the book in front of him.

House Shell was only one of several Houses to ally with the Andals when they first arrived, believing that their only chance of survival was capitulating to the vastly stronger invading force. Their faith was ill-placed.

Eventually, he gets a fraction of his focus back but you’re still there, teasing at the periphery. Occasionally he’ll get a whiff of the fragrant oil that you must use in your hair or you’ll hum or mumble about something you read. You don’t just fade into the background. You seemingly are impossible to minimize, impossible to shove into a box.

Aemond sighs, wishing he was stronger. How could he be a loyal and brave son of House Targaryen if the first pretty girl to give him attention made his head spin like this? What would his mother say? What would Grandfather say?

He continues to read, burying his head deep into the book until the only thing he can think about is the Shells - the Shells and the complete and total destruction of their House. He focuses on the story of Dywen Shell, about how the Andal warlords roasted him inside his own longhall. He focuses until he can hear the screams and wails of the Shell family as they watched their patriarch burn, until he can almost feel the flames licking up his sleeves.

He scratches down his notes, pretending that he doesn’t notice you similarly keyed in on your book.

What part is she at?

If you had stopped at the Night’s King and his corpse queen… next up was the Rat King. After that was Symeon Star-Eyes. They were both popular stories, ones that people told to their children without ever having touched Watches on the Wall. The book went into slightly more detail, particularly with Symeon. The songs liked to say he was blind and that he had placed sapphires in his eyes to show his devotion to chivalry.

The maester who wrote the book had a starkly different opinion. Symeon Star-Eyes was, more likely than not according to Maester Lewys, a sworn Brother of the Night’s Watch, renowned for both his skill in combat and his abnormally bright blue eyes. Chivalry, the maester postulated, would not be introduced into Westeros until after the coming of the Andals, well after the death of Symeon.

You hadn’t been wrong when you had said that the truth was remarkably less interesting than what the singers liked to peddle out.

Far off in the distance, Aemond hears the belltower ring, indicating the turn of the hour. For the first time in his life, he feels a flash of relief that he has to meet up with his brother and nephews in the yards for sword training. While their words could be cruel, they at least were easier to understand than you were.

“I have to go,” he says, gathering up his books and notes as quickly as he can.

You hum, rising to your feet. “I should also probably go and meet up with Princess Helaena. Our septa can be awfully strict about punctuality.”

“It’s a virtue,” he replies, more out of instinct and a desire to fill the air with something than truly believing his words.

He regrets it immediately when you snort in laughter. “Perhaps you could teach us instead of her. You might be less inclined to rapping me on my knuckles when I slip up on a proverb.”

The words spill out of his mouth before he can stop them. “You can come to the library at this same time tomorrow if you want to avoid her. I wouldn’t mind.”

He would mind. He would mind very much if you showed up tomorrow with your easy smile and your bright eyes.

You don’t notice this internal conflict, though. You blink owlishly up at him, as if stunned by the offer. The silence drags on and Aemond feels that all-too-familiar sensation of humiliation and shame creeping up his neck and he opens his mouth to apologize, to take it back, but then you grin broadly at him. It lights you up entirely, brightening even this dark corner of the library.

“Thank you for the offer, my prince,” you quietly reply. “I think I might just take you up on it.”

You bow your head, dropping into a slight curtsey. Your manners are impeccable. Everything about you is designed to endear, to paint the picture of a perfect lady, one gracious and honest and kind.

He knows it's a lie. He knows that you’re hiding something fierce, something mean within you. He wishes he didn’t know that you were. He wishes he didn’t remember that snarl on your face when he had scared you, the way you had seemed ready to claw out his eyes.

He wishes you had never left the Rock.

Aemond doesn’t say any of it, doesn’t poke and prod until he can see that flash of rage that you had shown. He simply nods and prays that you don’t take him up on his offer.

[elvencantation]

new cute and beautiful comic!!

[elowensupremacy]

she's so pretty and i love her 🥺

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Queen’s Hand

(Part III: Eye for an Eye)

Prologue | Part I | Part II

Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Harwin grunts, draped over the back of the arm chair, while the maester cleans and dresses his wounds.

Y/N had been lucky, or so they say. Her burns will heal, but they will scar. The flames licked up her heels, to the calf, and on the left side, the base to her thigh. Lucky because they were in a place no one but her ladies in waiting and husband might see. Not because they hurt any less. The aching is made bearable with milk of the poppy.

The maester tried to afford Ser Harwin the same mercy, before scrubbing his wounds clean. But the knight refuses to have his mind unclear while their attacker remains at large. The expanse of Harwin’s back and shoulders are marred, but he will live to tell the tale.

Y/N stands by her husband’s side, one hand clutched in his, the other passing tenderly over his hair. “Are you nearly finished?”

“Indeed, your grace.” The maester nods.

The princess finches when Harwin lets out another hiss of pain.

“Princess, I do apologize.” Angette says, bowing her head as she enters the room. “But her majesty, the Queen, requests a word with you.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Let her know that I will be there in a moment.”

“Yes, Princess.” The door eases shut behind her.

Harwin lifts his head to gaze up at his wife. “You are free to go.”

Y/N bends down to kiss his forehead in parting. Her healing skin sears in protest. “Fuck.” She curses, between gritted teeth. “Fuck.”

“See what she needs, then you must rest.”

“I’m fine.” Y/N breathes deeply to collect herself, standing upright, walking is painful.

“To heal, you must rest. If not of your own free will, then perhaps your husband must demand it of you.”

Y/N opens and closes her mouth twice, gaping like a fish out of water.

“I can live with your wrath, I cannot live without you.”

Makes it nearly impossible to stay cross with him. “I will rest when I am finished.”

“Thank you.” He sighs, brushing his lips over her knuckles.

Y/N draws back after a moment, passing a hand over the front of her dress. She and Harwin do not fight, they very rarely disagree. It leaves her insides raw as her wounds.

Alicent waits, well poised, at the door’s entrance. “Are you in very much pain?” She asks, once Y/N joins her.

“You call me away from my husband at a time like this to ask if I’m in pain?” Y/N looks her over from head to toe.

“I mean no offense.” Alicent assures her.

“You are surely here of good will.” Y/N reasons, “forgive me.”

“All is forgiven.” Alicent waves a hand. “Your father asked I see you well.”

“Tell him I am well.” Y/N utters.

Alicent nods, “of course.” She turns on her heels to leave.

“Wait,” Y/N reaches to her without thinking. Catching the queen’s hand in her own.

Alicent’s eyes soften, keeping her hold on Y/N’s hand. “What?”

“I fear that we are all in terrible danger. This assailant meant to kill my son, though he is not directly in line for the iron throne. Given thus, your children might also be targeted.”

“Y/N, there is something…” Alicent faulters. She cannot hold this terrible secret much longer. “Perhaps it is worth looking into.”

Y/N takes a step forward, closing any distance between them. “Speak it.”

“Princess.” Larys Strong appears just beyond Alicent’s shoulder. “It is a pleasure to see you up and about.”

“Thank you, Ser Larys.” Y/N smiles at him.

“My Queen,” he nods to Alicent. “I was hoping I might find my brother.”

“He’s just there.” Y/N waves toward their rooms, opening the door a smidge. “Ser Larys is here, my love. May I send him?”

“Of course,” Harwin calls in return.

“He’ll be pleased to see you,” Y/N tells Larys as he passes.

When the door is closes they are left to speak freely. Alicent’s expression is hard to read, though something clearly plagues her thoughts.

“Alicent,” Y/N tries to catch her eye.

“Lady Laena,” Alicent steals herself. “Has passed.”

“How?”

“The child would not come.”

“Awful.” Y/N swallows, “will there be a send off?”

“Driftmark, in two days time. I would like to offer you and yours a place on our ship.”

“That is very generous, your grace. I will be sure to consult my husband in the matter and return with an answer by supper.”

“Surely you cannot travel dragon back.”

Y/N lifts her chin. “I cannot allow this act to define me.”

“You mustn’t live in fear, tis true. However you must not over exert yourself.”

“You sound like my husband.”

“Ser Harwin may have a point this once.” Alicent will hold her tongue a while longer.

———————————🌱————————————

Y/N’s uncle, Daemon, now has two daughters of his own. Baela and Rhaena. Spitting images of their mother.

Laenor is beside himself. Aegon is drowning himself in cups. The royal family is quite a sight these days. Dividend by circumstance, try as they may to keep it hidden. Larys is there to witness it all.

Alicent watches him in return. She cannot speak of what transpired between them. She may have let slip to Ser Larys that she wishes his brother see some consequence for his indiscretions, but death by fire is not what she meant.

“Everything alright?” Y/N asks as she passes the Queen.

“Tis a solemn day, Y/N.”

The princess nods. “That it is.” She can sense that whatever niceties Alicent had afforded her have passed. The queen is no longer privy to sharing whatever insights she harbors.

Harwin is sat with Lord Corlys, offering his deepest condolences.

The Strong children mingle about, comforting members of the Velaryon family. Lucerys and Jacaerys follow suit.

Y/N excuses herself to tend her brother-in-law, down at the shore, two cups in hand. “Might I join you, Ser Laenor?”

“If it is your wish, Princess.” Laenor replies, back still to her.

Carefully Y/N wades into the water. It stings at her burns and shifts the bottom of her skirts. Up to the knee she goes, however improper. She offers the spirits to Laenor. “To Laena.”

“To Laena.” He chugs the whole thing down. “If there is something on your mind then speak it. Her majesty, the Queen, will soon lose her temper over the impropriety of this exchange.”

“You are my family. I do not care what she has to say on the matter.” Y/N keeps her gaze fixed on the sea.

“How does it feel it?” Laenor wonders.

“Hmm?”

“To be made of fire.”

Y/N allows her brow to furrow. “Same as it feels to be made of the sea, I suspect. Ever exhausting yourself in a futile attempt not to harm the people around you.”

“They know the cost.” He laments.

“I did not wish for this, nor did my sister.”

“You did ask her to bear the brunt of your father’s legacy over you.”

“So that I might protect her.”

“You cannot protect Rhaenyra anymore than I could protect my own sister.” Laenor peers down at his empty cup. “Shame. This is not a pain I wish upon you.”

“Princess! Ser Laenor!” Harwin’s voice comes as no surprise.

“Yes, dear husband?”

“The king asked I collect you.” He tells the pair.

Y/N sighs, clapping a hand to Laenor’s shoulder. “Come.”

Laenor shakes his head, “I do not yet wish to be collected.”

Y/N turns back toward the sand and Harwin. “May I have nothing?” She remarks, catching the arm he offers to aide her footsteps. Her gown weighed down by the moisture dripping from all sides.

“Clearly not and you know it.” The knight replies, taking no pleasure in this. However there are times he is reduced to fetching his wife, by order of the king. “Lord Corlys is sending Ser Qarl down as well.”

“Will it always be this way?”

“Until Rhaenyra is queen, no doubt.” Harwin leads her to the lowest floor of the Driftmark estate.

“I wish I were born a common girl. I would not mind the work in exchange for freedom. Instead I am forever indebted to the iron throne and by taking my hand, so are you.”

“I have chosen this.” Harwin reminds her. “The cross you bear is a heavy one and I cannot lift it from you. But I will help you shoulder it, I will not leave you alone in this.”

Y/N sighs, taking refuge in the shelter of his arms. “I do love you…and I am sorry for the distance between us as of late.”

“As I love you, I apologize for my part in it.”

Y/N nods into his chest. “How are the children?”

“Gone to bed. I thought I might steal a moment with you, princess.” He guides her back to the wall, holding her captive in the cage of his arms. When his lips meet hers she is lost. Left pliant before him.

Harwin has given her heart a home. Someone to pour hope and dreams into, to build empires with. A lover that would move men and mountains alike to protect her, to please her.

Y/N winds her arms around his neck, losing her fingers in his curls. Deepening the kiss.

A rumble of voices from the great hall demands their attention.

“What was that?” Y/N dodges beneath his arm. Lifting her skirts to run slightly faster.

“Will you forever charge toward the danger instead of away?”

“I’m afraid so.” The princess admits.

“Let me ahead at least.” Harwin is ready to live up to his nickname, if need be.

They makes haste to the hall. Their children are inside, huddled close to Jace and Luc, who is sporting a bloodied nose.

“What is the meaning of this?” Y/N demands, crossing the room to her children. Clearly shaken, but fully intact.

Aegon and Helaena stand near the fireplace, no worse for wear. But Aemond-

“Are you alright?” Harwin leans down to Lucerys. If Rhaenyra and Laenor are absent they must advocate for the boys.

“Yes, uncle.” The boy nods.

“We’ll have you tended in a moment.” Harwin presses a kiss to his hair.

“Mother, there was a brawl.” Viserus informs her.

“Aemond stole Vhagar!”

“He pushed Baela and Rhaena. He tried to kill Luc!”

Rhaenyra arrives a few moments later with Daemon just behind. “Is everyone alright?”

“Not exactly,” Y/N whispers, the children continue to bicker.

Rhaenyra bends down to her sons, so that she might hear the tale.

“Enough!” The King roars. “Aemond, I will hear the truth of it.”

“Your son has been maimed and her son is responsible.” Alicent points out. “What else is there to hear?”

“A regrettable accident,” Rhaenyra counters.

“Prince Lucerys brought a blade with him, he meant to kill my son.” Alicent’s accuses.

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves,” Rhaenyra explains. “Vile insults were levied against them.”

“Insults? What insults?” Viserys wonders.

“The legitimacy of my sons birth was called loudly into question.”

Not this again.

“He said Jace and Luc are our brothers.” Aemmia stares down at her hands as she speaks. She has come to age that she understands, it matters not if they share a father, only the repercussions of speaking so would be grave for her family.

“Was naught but talk amongst a lot of children, it meant nothing.” Alicent says, immediately.

“Please, Grandsire…” Aemmia presses on, “he called them bastards.”

Viserys is sent reeling at this, looking down at his youngest son.

Harwin widens his stance, closing the slight gap between Y/N and Rhaenyra. Though he is here as Prince consort, not a knight, he will perform his duty to his family. He will keep them safe.

“My sons are in line to inherit the iron throne, your grace.” Rhaenyra adds. “This the highest of treasons. The prince must be sharply questioned so that we might learn where he heard such falsehoods.”

“Over an insult?” Alicent scoffs. “My son has lost an eye.”

Viserys levels himself with Aemond, still seated before the maester. “Who told you this lie, boy?”

Aemond swallows hard, looking to his mother, but does not speak.

“Your king demands an answer!”

“It was Aegon.” Aemond lies, surely to sheild his mother from harm.

“Me?” Aegon chokes out. Of all the people to blame, why must it always be him?

“Aegon, who spoke these words to you?”

Aegon is silent for a moment. “We know, father. Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

“These foul rumors must cease! Let it be known that anyone who dares question the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons will have their tongue removed.” Viserys addresses the room.

“Thank you, father.” Rhaenyra murmurs.

“Now make your apologies and show good will toward one another. Your father, your grandsire…your King demands it.”

“That is insufficient.” Alicent says, not believing her own ears. “Our son has been permanently damaged, my king. Good will cannot make him whole. Please Viserys, he’s your son. Your blood.”

“I know, Alicent,” Viserys snaps. “But I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, but there is a debt to be paid.”

“What would you have me do?”

Alicent pauses to deliberate. “I will have one of her son’s eyes in return.”

“My dear wife, you mustn’t let rage blind you.”

“If the King will not seek justice then the Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Alicent demands.

“Stay your hand, Cole.”

“No, you are sworn to me!”

“As your protector, my Queen.” Ser Criston must regretfully decline.

“This matter is settled.” Viserys presses a kiss to her cheek, then begins to turn away.

This breaks something within the Queen. Shattering her soul into a million pieces and she sees red. Grabbing the dagger from her husband’s sheath and charging for Rhaenyra’s son.

Lucerys screams when he sees her coming up behind his mother’s back. Rhaenyra catches her hand above the blade. Forcing her back.

Y/N steps in front of her children and nephews out of instinct. Luc tugging anxiously at her hand. If anyone wishes to harm him, they will have to go through her and be met with the wrath of the King.

“Stay with the King!” Ser Harrold Westerling commands, but Criston breaks free, with every intention of gifting his Queen her request.

“Alicent, you let her go!” Viserys calls.

Harwin forces his way through the huddle of bodies to meet him. Though he is injured and unarmored, he manages to take Cole down.

“Alicent, please. It needn’t be this way.” Y/N attempts to reason with the Queen. “As a mother who loves her children, my heart weeps for you and your son. But this is not the way. Might you find it in yourself to accept this apology, so that we might show good will to one another?”

“The apology is not yours to make! For years I have watched you bend the knee and wet your eye with apologizes of offenses that are not your own. I will not accept it.” Alicent refocuses on Rhaenyra. “What of honor? Duty? Sacrifice? Alas, it is trampled beneath your pretty foot again. Now you take my son’s eye, and to even that you feel entitled.”

“Exhausting, wasn’t it?” Rhaenyra breathes. “Hiding under the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are.”

The blade of Viserys’ dagger gashes Rhaenyra’s forearm when Alicent pushes her away. Y/N catches her sister, applying pressure to the wound. The Queen allows the knife to fall from her hand, clattering to the floor.

“This proceeding is at an end.” Viserys says with finality.

Y/N knows better, these proceedings never end.

Taglist @evyiione

Part IV

[bohemian-nights]

Arlī(Anew)-Chapter 6

Word Count: ~10,442

Rating: 18+

Warnings⚠️: Uncle/niece incest; minor smut; blood

Description: “I fear I will go mad if I stay here.” Naerys needed to be away from Dragonstone for a little while. Away from all that she herself had lost.

AN: This story takes place from episode 5 onward. I’ve changed things up a bit but I’ve kept the timeline intact.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

————————————🐉————————————

120 AC- Driftmark

Death is a strange thing. It’s as natural as living even more so, but one never thinks of it that way. Lurking around every corner. It is the final act of one’s life. An inescapable fate. Sometimes a grand finale. Other times a quiet whimper. It often visits in pairs. Prolonging the suffering of the loved ones left behind. Such was the case in 120 AC.

Death first visited the unlucky halls of Harrenhall. A fire swept through the cursed castle taking Ser Harwin Strong and his father Lord Lyonel Strong to their graves. Naerys had never cared much more either. Ser Harwin, though an admirable father to her cousin's children, and his bastards alike, was a poor husband.

There could be no question that Ser Harwin was undeserving of her cousin. He had a lady of house Velaryon for a wife, a young graceful Valyrian bride, and yet that was not enough for him. He instead spent too much of his time in the company of another. Fathering children with said other when his priorities should have lied closer to home.

Naerys did not know the elder Strong well. Lord Strong was a blank sheet of parchment as far as the princess could tell. He did not have the presence and guile of the previous hand, now reinstalled hand, Ser Otto Hightower. The Strong’s were a noble house yet they lacked the distinction of other riverlands houses like the Blackwood’s or the Bracken’s. They had in truth only held their seat for a generation. The Strongs had thus far failed to make their mark upon Harrenhal and Westeros at large.

Then there was Laena. Sweet Laena. A beautiful, vivacious Velaryon woman. A trueborn daughter of Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. The blood of the dragon ran thick through her veins as much as the blood of the seas. A noble lady who might have been queen one day had it not been for their great grandsires stubbornness.

While Naerys had not cared much for the Strongs she did mourn her cousin's death. Laena was the closest thing to a sister that the princess had. She had been the one that Naerys went to when she could not or did not dare to ask her aunt for womanly advice. She had taught her cousin how to claim Silverwing as she had claimed Vhagar. Now the brown silver-haired woman was gone along with a son who never drew breath, but the Stranger was far from finished with adding to his collection.

Death was to visit twice more, but it was Aenys birth and immediate departure that had been the final blow to Naerys. Aenys funeral was a quiet affair. Ser Vaemond had been made to leave Dragonstone that night. Daemon blamed the Valyrian knight for his son's death. Naerys was not due for another week. If she had not been made to go into early labor, if she had not heard the distressing news perhaps their son might have lived.

The princess had to be carried down to the beach by her husband where their son’s cloth-wrapped body had been placed. She was the one who gave the command to light the pyre. She insisted upon it. Her small cry of “dracarys” was carried by the wind into Silverwings ears. Naerys had gone mute for nearly a week after.

By the fourth day of her silence, she refused to eat. Pushing trays of food away whenever one of her maids arrived. They tried tempting her with her favorite treats, but Naerys simply pulled herself further under her covers. This went on for two more days before a weary Daemon who had seated himself on their bed and curled himself around her. “Daenys iksos asking syt zȳhon muñnykeā byka mēre.” Daenys is asking for her mother little one.

Their daughter had been barred from entering their chamber. Naerys could not face the girl. She had left her husband to deal with her alone. Why should she burden the girl when she had failed as a mother? Failed to deliver a healthy son into the world. Who knew what further damage she might cause?

But her daughter cared not. She wanted her mother. Naerys was Daenys mother before she had been Aenys and she would be there long after the babe had gone. She was a living breathing girl. Did she not matter? All she asked for was her mother's company.

It was not fair of Naerys to deprive her living child of her mother. Daenys was used to the loss of her mother's babes, but she would not grow used to her mother's absence. Naerys had to return to the land of the living. The girl was sent for, along with some broth and bread with honey to break her fast.

Daenys sat with her mother as she ate. Climbing into her parent's bed and fixing herself to Naerys side as she prattled on about a toy Helana had sent as well as the bow and arrow set her father had gifted her. The young princess had found the latter gift to be much more agreeable than her long-since discarded training sword.

It was advised by Maester Orlys that attending Laena’s funeral on Driftmark might put a strain on Naerys' fragile condition. Daemon had agreed with the kindly older man. The stress of the journey alone could disrupt her slow recovery. Naerys was a long way from being whole. Her hunger strike had not helped matters. She was just now regaining her strength. Only being able to stand for short periods of time before exhausting herself and having to sit back down.

It would in truth take months before the princess was back to her old self. Naerys needed proper rest. Rest that could be found within Dragonstone’s walls. There was no need to stress herself, but Naerys remained firm on wanting to leave for Driftmark much to her uncle's dismay.

“Ziry istan issa dubāzma kepus.” She was my cousin uncle. It was late in the evening as Naerys and Daenys had curled up in Daemon's lap, The family was seated by the chamber’s fire. The little girl was dozing off when her mother softly spoke the words to her father.

Laena would do the same for her. Nothing would have stopped her from seeing off Naerys. Why should she not pay her the same? Her son was gone. There was nothing left to do, but mourn his loss. That could be done on Driftmark as well as Dragonstone. She could stand idly by with all that had happened. Naerys owed her cousin her dues.

“Nyke zūgagon nyke jāhor jikagon vēdros lo nyke umbagon rȳbagon.” I fear I will go mad if I stay here. Naerys needed to be away from Dragonstone for a little while. Away from all that she herself had lost. Daemon folded to his wife’s request at her declaration. Maester Orlys was to journey with them and they were to leave if Naerys became overwhelmed, but they would go to Driftmark for Laena’s funeral.

Laena’s funeral was held a fortnight after her death. Enough time for family and friends to journey to Driftmark from Dragonstone and Kings Landing. Driftmark had always been a place of levity and sanctuary for Naerys. Her mother had fled to the stony shores of her childhood when she was just shy of her second name day. Her father had been dead not even a week before her mother fled for her brother’s keep.

“There are spies everywhere brother.” That is what her uncle had told Naerys when she had asked him why she had left with such urgency. Even Ser Vaemond did not entirely believe his little sister. He thought that the late Shaera Velaryon was overly paranoid. She had always been so, but it had worsened with age. Seeing danger when there had been none. “Naerys is not safe here.”

Her mother had gone to Jahaerys with her worries, but the old king dismissed her with a flick of his frail wrist. “She is no longer the heir. There is nothing to fear my lady. Naerys is in no danger from those at my court. There is little that they can accomplish by harming a babe girl.” He was old and cared little for the politics of the realm anymore aside from who would rule over the seven kingdoms after him. Now that line of succession was clear he did not see the threat to his great-granddaughter.

In her desperation, Shaera had gone to her late husband's half-brothers. Though they had never been close to their elder brother, Naerys was their blood. Surely they would care for their little niece's safety? Viserys merely echoed his grandsire's words, but it was Daemon to her surprise who did not make light of her fears. He too believed that his grandfather’s court was full of traitors and simpering sycophants.

The Velaryon lady had thought she had found a champion for her daughter until the Targaryen prince added, “It is a pity that my grandmother saw fit to marry me to my bronze bitch. If she had waited some years more I might have had your daughter to call my little bride. Naerys is such a sweet little thing. I would have enjoyed plucking her flower.”

Daemon claimed it was a joke when he recollected the story to his wife a year after their own daughter's birth, but he professed it while his cock was buried inside his niece's warmth. Hovering over her as he thrust in and out of her sopping heat with a dark look Naerys had grown to adore.

The rogue prince reached a hand down between their love-soaked bodies. Naerys grip tightened as her husband made slow circles around her clit to bring his niece to her peak. “I suppose I have my baby bride now.” She had decided that there had been some merit in her mother’s apprehension.

Naerys' first memories were at her uncle's castle, but the white stone walls of her youth were not the ones she remembered when they had arrived at High Tide. The light and splendor had all but vanished. The castle was as quiet as the grave itself though it was bursting at the seams from the number of guests that had invaded its hall. One of her cousins and his lady wife were the ones to greet them. Making apologies for their lord uncle and his princess wife’s absence.

Ser Laenor had locked himself within his chambers. Not even Rhaenyra nor their sons were allowed in. His parents were trying to coax the man out, but with little success. The heads of house Velaryon and their heir were not seen until the next day at their daughter's funeral.

Ser Vaemond was given the honor of delivering Laena’s eulogy. Naerys did not know why her aunt and uncle chose him for this task. Any one of her cousins or uncles would have done. Anyone who would not make the loss of their daughter about himself. Never one to disappoint, the Velaryon knight did not miss an opportunity to take center stage.

Naerys uncle wasted no time in praising the purity of Laena’s Velaryon blood. The dark man did not take his violet eyes off of Rhaenyra and her black-haired sons as he said so. The Targaryen woman shifted uncomfortably, pulling her boys closer to her. Laenor, her husband, stood apart from his wife and “sons.” Naerys would have pitied her had she not earlier looked at her empty belly with a smirk on the way down to the ragged shoreline.

Daemon let out a laugh at Ser Vaemond’s poorly disguised chastisements of the crown princess. The Rogue Prince paid no mind to the looks of displeasure that his inappropriate reaction received. Instead, he craned his neck down to whisper in his wife’s ear. “Perhaps with her strong knight gone she might give the realm proper heirs.”

Naerys could not join her husband in his satisfaction for it was what worried her the most. Rhaenyra’s lilac gaze locked onto their uncle the moment she had seen him. She had only taken her eyes off their uncle when the Velaryon knight began his derision of her sons. You promised. Her cousin's pleas from all those moons ago rattled around in her head. It had never left her. They were both in need of heirs now. Did Rhaenyra intend on collecting the debt she felt she was owed?

Thankfully Daemon’s smirk dropped when he noticed his niece-wife’s growing distress. Her husband's eyes softened as he placed a kiss on her head. “Hae ao emagon teptan issa ñuhon.” As you have given me mine. Daemon pointed his gaze down to the small girl between them who held her father’s hand. Daenys seemed to be more interested in her cousins who stood by their Hightower mother than her great uncle’s speech.

Ser Vaemond was the first to make his way over to where Naerys and her family stood once Laena’s coffin was lowered into the sea. He brought his son, Daeron, and his eldest grandson with him. Daemon’s son was a plump boy of nine who had inherited his mother’s grace, a doltish woman from a minor riverlands house.

The Velaryon knight took care to introduce Daenys to her Velaryon cousin. The boy let out a clumsy bow. Referring to their daughter as cousin Daenys with a bashful stutter. It was an amusing sight to see to all but his grandfather. Ser Vaemond wasted no time in correcting his grandson's lack of manners. “She is a princess and is to be Lady of Dragonstone as well.”

Naerys bristled at her uncle’s words. Perhaps Ser Vaemond had not thought anything of it. It was the truth of the matter, but he could not possibly think that his niece nor his good nephew were over the death of their child.

Naerys would excuse the blunder. It was a simple enough mistake, but her husband would not take so kindly to Vaemond’s prideful arrogance which led to his forgetfulness. They were all grieving and the first thing that he thought of was what he could gain from it.

“I do wonder if your grandson is as insipid as you Ser Vaemond?” It was spoken with a sneer as Daemon stared down the Velaryon knight. Vaemond’s self-assured smile had finally fallen. His son looked as if someone had struck him across the face before he began to make apologies for his father's gaffe. Daeron regained his composure enough to usher his son and fuming father away from the rogue prince's ire.

Once they were gone from their sight Daenys began to tug on her sleeve fathers. “Will I have to marry him?” A little frown of distaste graced her honey face. The last remnants of tension in the air dissipated as her parents laughed at her little worries. Their daughter was an observant girl. She knew of her duties, but she was still a girl. She had nothing to fear. Daemon would never marry her off to just any boy. Her father affectionately petted the top of her silver curls, reassuring her that she would not have to marry the halfwit.

Naerys bit her tongue. The boy was young, but he came from good stock. His father was dull true enough, but he was a good man. His grandsire Ser Vaemond, though proud, was a good husband and father to his lot. She would have to marry. Why not marry Daenys into her grandmother's house? They were of ancient and pure Valyrian blood after all their daughter could do worse.

“He’d bore her in a week. He’s even more useless than his grandfather.” Naerys' husband did not miss the look his wife had tried to conceal. They both knew that proposals had been made for Daenys hand. Dragonstone and the dragons that it posed were a prized offer. As was the little princess in her own right, for she was every inch a Targaryen beauty in the making. However, decisions on their daughter's future could wait for now.

From the corner of her eye, Naerys spotted the king looking their way. The man looked worse for wear, but he gave them a polite smile. Daemon had noticed too, but the man was avoiding his brother's eye line, but that would not do. “Your brother wants to talk to you.”

Daemon hesitated. He would not leave his niece's side. Not while she tired so easily, but Naerys simply smiled and reached up to place a kiss upon his pale cheek. “Go. I have your little shadow with me to guard me.” Daemon looked down at their daughter who gave her father a salute. Satisfied with her response and his wife’s insistence the man left telling Daenys to “Watch your mother, little dragon.”

It was not long before Daenys turned her violet eyes back toward where Alicent’s sons stood crowding around their sister. Her daughter was ever the dutiful princess, but she was still a child. She deserved a moment of respite. Kissing her daughter on the top of her head she sent her to her cousins. Naerys started to make her way over to comfort Rhaenys and her granddaughters, but she felt a hand reach out grasping her arm. Spinning her around she came to face Rhaenyra’s cool inspection.

“You are brave to come here Naerys.” If one did not know any better one would think that Rhaenyra was almost giddy. She did not look as though she were a woman in mourning. All traces of penitence from Ser Vaemond’s reproach were gone. “I confess, if I was in your position I would not be able to bear it.”

Rhaenyra turned her gaze toward where Daemon stood with her father. “Our poor uncle suffers so, as I am sure your daughter does as well.” Rhaenyra took her hand. “Do not worry aunt, all will be well soon enough.” Naerys never got the chance to reply as Rhaenyra left making her way over to Daemon. To give him comfort in his grief. Daemon looked relieved to see her.

It dawned on Naerys then. Rhaenyra could not be stopped. Not by her cousin at least. She had everything yet she wanted more. She had three healthy sons. A husband who though did not love her in the way that a man ought to love his wife cared for her and her children.

The crown princess had a lover who had been willing to risk everything for her consequences be damned. She would one day inherit the Iron Throne. It all meant nothing. Not when the one thing the one man Rhaenyra wanted remained out of reach. All that stopped her was their uncle's insistence that he had no need for another besides his wife.

What would happen if Daemon were to change his mind? He had always wanted Rhaenyra. It was who he had truly desired, but he settled for another Targaryen niece. He claimed otherwise, but Naerys knew. She knew.

Ser Laenor would hardly put up a fight. He had not minded when his wife had taken Ser Harwin for a lover. Their marriage was not a traditional one. No Rhaenyra and her bastards would be allowed to journey back to Dragonstone with them. Both needed heirs. Proper heirs. Daenys was a girl. She was not a proper heir by virtue of her sex. No amount of lessons her father could give her would change that. She had been born with the wrong parts.

What man would not want to see his son rule after him? What man would not want his own seed on the Iron Throne? Of course, Rhaenyra was still married, but that impediment could be resolved. An annulment perhaps?

It was not uncommon for a Targaryen to take on a second bride. Maegor The Cruel had six; his father before him had two. Who would stop them? The king was old and weak; he would not argue against the arrangement either as long as it did not happen in his presence and once the deed was done he would not go against the union. The faith would not dare go against the king's word. They would not risk another uprising.

Daemon would never cast Naerys aside true enough. Her uncle did care for her. He may not love her as he did Rhaenyra, but some part of him did love her. He would be a husband to her as he would be with Rhaenyra. He would visit both of their beds and Naerys would be made to watch with a smile on her face as the crown princess bared him son after son.

People would whisper and gossip of course. Around court, around Dragonstone, just as they had during the last set of her failures, but Naerys would have to get used to it. The princess would be made to endure Rhaenyra as Laena had. The offer of a son and true happiness would be too tempting to pass.

But Naerys was not Laena. She could not endure. She lacked her sweet patience and grace in the face of adversity. She would not be made a pariah at court, in her own home on Dragonstone. To be mocked and pitied as though she were some poor creature. She would not allow it. She would never be queen, but she was a dragon just the same as the rest. Dragons do not share. She had given her husband an heir. There was no need for the future queen in her uncle’s bed.

Naerys was still reeling from being bombarded by Rhaenyra when Ser Otto approached her. The hand of the king started out by making his apologies for Aenys loss. His pale blue eyes shone with solace. If Naerys did not know any better she would have thought it had been made in earnest. She did not want to think the worst of the man. His sympathy could be sincere. The man had not lost children, but he had lost a wife. By all accounts, he loved her as much as a man like himself could.

“Daenys is very fond of her cousin. As her cousins are fond of her.” The hand had turned his gaze toward where her daughter and his grandchildren were. Daenys held a spider in her little hands as she talked with her cousins. A fact that seemed to please the second eldest prince as he sported a small grin on his face. The little princess had gotten over her fear of Helaena’s “friends.” Or at least the girl was willing to bare them to be in the company of her cousins.

“She has her mother’s beauty. She would have made Aegon a good wife.” Naerys shuddered at the thought. The boy was not unkind to Daenys, but her mother had seen the way the prince treated those who he thought less of. He barely spared his own sister and soon-to-be bride common decency.

Naerys could not help but feel deep sadness for Helaena. The girl was a gentle soul. She did not deserve to be married to such a careless boy who had inherited the Targaryen’s gluttonous and none of their glory. If he ever managed to be crowned king it would be in name only. “She would do well at court.” Naerys snapped her head back to look at the presumptuous man.

She had been too hasty in her judgment of Ser Otto. A leopard did not change its spots so easily. The princess would not make that mistake again. She would take a page out of her husband’s book. She was far too tired to deal with niceties. “If you want something Ser, do speak plainly.” He was wasting both of their time otherwise.

“If you are ever in need of assistance, princess.” The man bent down so that they were more on eye level. “My door is always open as is the queen’s.” With a half smile, he picked up her brown hand to kiss the back of it. It was intended as a version of a fatherly kiss. The same kind Ser Vaemond and Lord Corlys bestowed upon her when she was a little girl when they asked her to dance during feasts. “Both you and the little princess are always welcomed at court.”

Ser Otto turned his focus toward the far end of the balcony. Waiting for Naerys to follow his eye line. Daemon and Rhaenyra had vanished from sight. Not one trace of them could be found and the sun was setting.

Of course, Daemon could have gone back to their chambers, and Rhaenyra could have gone off somewhere on her own, but he looked so happy. He had not looked so in weeks. The better part of a year even. Her husband had not looked so cheerful since before she had told him of her Aenys pregnancy and Rhaenyra glowed under their uncle's adornment.

“How exactly would you help me Ser?” Naerys pulled her hand out from the cold man’s grip. She did not wait for the Hightower knight to respond. She would not hear of treasonous talk. She would not be poisoned by it. Dark commands led to dark deeds and those deeds would come with a price. A price that would soak through and last a lifetime.

Even if her life was to take a turn she would not damn herself to the seven hells to avoid it. “If you will excuse me, it is past Daenys’ nap time.” She had enough of today’s procession of woe. Grabbing her daughter, who was reluctant to leave her cousins, but did not protest when she saw the worry on her mother's face. The two hand in hand made way for the solitude of High Tide’s halls.

Naerys was wide awake when Daemon arrived back to their chambers. He had not come alone. Daenys had been put to be long since as she sat by their chambers lit fire in her nightgown. She had been staring into the flames for hours now losing track of time. She would have gone to be herself but her mind was running in circles playing everything back to her that had occurred in the past weeks.

“We had an agreement uncle.” Rhaenyra’s shrill voice could be heard coming through from the hall. Naerys could just make out their shadows under the door in the low light. Corlys and Rhaenys had been kind enough to offer them chambers that were far enough from the rest of the castle's guests otherwise her cousin would have woken nearby inhabitants

“I never promised you anything Rhaenyra.” Daemon hissed at his niece. He probably expected both his daughter and wife to be asleep, but caution never hurt. He would not be so lucky tonight. Naerys would not let slink in and act as if his absence had not been noted.

“What agreement?” Naerys ripped the door open to face her husband and her cousin’s shocked faces. The princess held her head up high. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were tear tracks on her cheeks, but she would not cower. She would not bother hiding herself away like a frightened child. She was a woman grown now. A mother and a wife. Daemon’s wife. She wanted answers. She deserved them.

“Sweetling you should be in bed.” Daemon came to her abandoning Rhaenyra in the hall leaving the door to their chambers open. He made a move to reach out for her, but Naerys backed away from his touch. A look of hurt flashed in his violet eyes, but his wife was not swayed. He had been gone too long to greet her in such a way. To send her to bed as if she were their daughter who had stayed up past her bedtime.

“What agreement husband?” Naerys held firm as she looked up at her husband. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Rhaenyra rushing into their solar closet, closing the oak doors leading into the hall. Her cousin was a neat woman, but the only word that could best describe the princess at the moment was frazzled.

“Sweet cousin, Naerys, Daemon needs heirs.” Rhaenyra twisted her thin mouth in a false smile. She basked in her pride despite her disheveled appearance. Treating as if she were a skittish doe that might run off at any moment. As if she had any concern for her at all. If she did she would not be here.

“There is no point lying uncle. Not anymore.” Rhaenyra turned to their uncle, placing a hand on his arm. Naerys wanted to claw the smug look off her cousin's face, but she wrapped her arms around herself and planted her feet on the stone floor. “My baby cousin will understand.”

“I have an heir Rhaenyra.” It was said with gritted teeth as he shook off his niece’s hand. Daemon tried once more to come to his wife, but the girl backed away holding a hand up to stay him. He listened to her choosing to run a hand through his shoulder-length white hair in frustration instead. “I have no need for more. Unlike your father, I do not let my dreams cloud my judgment. My flesh and blood will inherit Dragonstone after me and her children after her.”

“What agreement?” He still had not answered her. Breathing was becoming harder with each minute that passed. Naerys felt her heart speed up. Yet everything was in slow motion. She could barely hear anything, but the blood rushed in her ears. Trying to push her dread down. She steadied herself with a breath. She wanted the words said out loud. She wanted a real answer. Not more half-truths.

“A son or two. That is all that I ask for dear sister.” How Rhaenyra maintained her conceit was a mystery to her cousin. She was a woman that had never been told no. That had never been made to bend to others' will. “It is what our kepus has promised. There need not be a marriage.” Rhaenyra’s hand flew to her belly. A victorious smile. As if to challenge her. “It is you who holds him back.” Rhaenyra could give him new blood.

“Did you sleep with her?” Naerys could not look at her husband as she asked about her greatest fear. When they first married she had always suspected that he took Rhaenyra to his bed, but that was then. That was in the past. The present is a different story. They have a life together now. It might be broken and torn into small pieces, but it was a life. “All those times she came to our home—tonight—”

“I haven't been in anyone's bed except yours you hellcat.” It was meant to be a tease. To bring much-needed levity into the room, but he had picked the wrong moment for his japes. His eyes softened when he realized his mistake when he saw his wife’s misty eyes. “Not since I first had you little one.”

Taking her face in his hands he tried to kiss her, but Naerys refused. Turning her cheek so that the kiss landed there rather than its intended target. Rhaenyra was still in the room leering at them and Daemon had not asked her to leave. A wall stood between them and he still would not break it down.

“Did you promise her something?” It was none of her business. Promises were broken every day, but she had to know. She wanted to know. Needed to know. Rhaenyra had been haunting the back of her mind for years. Her uncle's first plaything. Naerys was her replacement. A poor substitute who could not even give him sons. Only a lone little girl to show for. She wanted to be his everything to give him everything, but she had failed and her cousin was all too willing to take up her rightful place beside their uncle.

“You are being childish Naerys.” Her husband scoffed at her. A dark look came over him. Daemon was all too used to getting his way with his niece-wife. Naerys always gave in to him and when she did not he was the one who acted as if she had injured him.

Naerys slapped him then. It had not been hard enough to do any damage. Her husband had barely moved. He stood there and laughed. Lightness returned to his eyes. He actually laughed at her torment. The princess felt her face heating up. She had not expected the reaction. She wanted his fire not to be treated as a joke.

“You married a child!” Naerys felt her fury growing. She would not be humiliated. She had been more humiliated today than many wives were in a lifetime. Everyone knew of her shame. Daemon knew what everyone thought of his relationship with his oldest niece and yet did little to actually reassure his wife. She would not let him talk over her.

“You married me because I was young and naive and you did not think that I knew better. You married me because I would soothe your broken ego. You married me because I was the niece that you were allowed to have.” She had never been wanted and she resented him for toying with her.

“Do you want to know what he did? He begged me to live.” Naerys spun around to face her cousin. Letting her anger guide her as she crowded Rhaenyra. She was enjoying her agitation far too much, but the younger princess did not care if she played the part of the desperate wife. Daemon had his choice, but he had chosen her. She wanted her cousin to know that even if their uncle never told her so. She wanted to haunt Rhaenyra as she had haunted her.

“The maesters told him he had to choose and he begged me to live. He paid for my life with our son‘s.” She hated her husband in part for it, but what was done was done. The past was dead to them. She would not give up her future without a fight. “He can not live without me. I am his wife. I am the mother of his child. Whatever agreement you had is gone, niece.” Rhaenyra’s vanity had faded and been replaced by ire.

“Daemon-” The Rogue Prince held up a hand to Rhaenyra. Silencing the red-faced woman. He did not turn back to face her. Instead, he kept his violet eyes trained on his wife. Bringing her into him pressing his forehead to his wife’s. He brought his hands up to face drawing circles into her temple with the rough pads of his thumb.

“Rhaenyra tell my wife what you said when you prostrated yourself at my door all those moons ago.” He pulled away slightly to hover over her. Naerys wanted to turn her head away, but she could not. Her uncle looked as if he was some avenging old God of Valyria as he gave out a breathless chortle. He had hypnotized her.

“Ao sagon obsessed rūsīr aōha riñnykeā ābrazȳrys kepus. Nyke pendagon skorkydoso bōsa ao kostagon nykeōragon naejot fuck zȳhon gō ao mazverdagon ēdrugī hen zȳhon. Gaomagon ao remember bona Rhaenyra?” You're obsessed with your child bride uncle. I wonder how long you can stand to fuck her before you grow tired of her. Do you remember that Rhaenyra? Daemon did not receive an answer. He had not been truly looking for one. He continued on without a need for one.

“Gaomagon ao remember skoros nyke ivestretan ao? Ziry iksos nykeā pretty byka mirre. Nyke don’t pendagon nyke shall mirre tire hen zȳhon. Nyke’ve found se fountain hen youth rȳ lenton rȳ zȳhon thighs.” Do you remember what I told you? She is a pretty little thing. I don’t think I shall ever tire of her. I’ve found the fountain of youth at home between her thighs. Naerys clamped up briefly when she felt his hand travel between said thighs, but the trance never ceased. Her blood was stoked by its blaze.

Daemon never looked away from his niece-wife as he dipped a finger into her cunt. Gathering enough wetness to bring to her clit. Toying with the little button. His other hand reached up to tug down her gown with one swift motion. Revealing her dark full breasts to the chamber's dim light.

“Sweet little thing. So wet and pliant for me. My baby whore. To do with as I please. I’d share her with you. I offered you that, but you wouldn’t appreciate it wouldn’t you? And I’ve never been fond of sharing my toys.” Naerys was too trapped by her warring emotions clouded by lust to care. She gave into the hazy blanket of salacity her husband offered her.

The man did not pull away. “Issa pretty byka ābrazȳrys. Ziry iksos headstrong isse zȳhon own ñuhoso se jealous gīda though ziry emagon daor drīve naejot sagon. Ivestragī jikagon syt issa dōna riña.” My pretty little wife. She is headstrong in her own way and jealous even though she has no reason to be. Let go for me sweet girl. Daemon sped up his movements. His wife meant to put a stop to his ministrations then.

It was bad enough that he had touched her while in the presence of another. She would not have another see their most intimate moments, but her opposition died on her tongue. Naerys had to clutch onto the man in front of her as she felt herself topple into her peak. “Issa gūrotrir.” My prize.

“Out now.” Rhaenyra looked as if she was in a half-daze. Her pale face was riddled with unabashed disgust. She did not move to exit. “I mean it Rhaenyra.” Daemon’s stern voice tried to break her from her daze, but an urgent knocking sounded at their door. Naerys' husband removed his fingers from her overspent hole placing a light kiss on her temple. Helping to pull the straps up to her nightgown so that she was in a decent enough state of dress.

Rhaenyra had been closest to their chamber's entry, but she remained in a state of crisis. Daemon was the one to open the heavy oak doors. Barking down at the poor soul who was unlucky to be given the task of rousing the Rogue Prince and his wife.

A frightened boy of no more than twelve name days peered up at her husband. Her uncle’s servant stumbled over half his words. “Beg your pardon, your highnesses.” He turned to acknowledge Rhaenyra with a bow.

The boy did not blink at her presence in their chamber. Naerys did not want to think about what went on in her uncle’s halls for him not to do so, “The little princess and princes have been hurt.” Naerys felt her heart stop beating. All the blood left from her body to some indescribable place of dread.

She sensed her arm being grabbed by her husband. He ushered her down toward her uncle's Great Hall. His heavy strides did the work for them both. The princess made note that Daemon had somehow managed to grab his sword as well. Naerys was too in her head to care what he might do with it.

High Tide had descended into chaos. Servants scrambled past them rushing to the source of the mayhem. The shouting grew in volume with each step. Rhaenyra was the last one out of their chambers but she flew past them in search of her sons.

Relief flooded through the princess at the sight of her daughter. Daenys leaned on Helaena who was trying to calm down the wailing child. Upon seeing her parents the young princess ran to her father. The man wasted no time scooping up the girl. Naerys inspected her daughter as she sobbed into her husband’s chest. She sported a bump on her forehead and a small cut on her honey cheek, but she remained otherwise uninjured. She was unlikely to bare any scars from what had unfolded.

Daemon bounced the girl in his arms as he ordered Maester Orlys to be brought down from his chambers. The older man could sleep through a storm. He had more than likely not even heard the commotion going through the castle. The prince placed a kiss atop his daughter’s silver curls as he drew circles into her back. Daenys seemed to calm down once she was in her father's arms. Allowing her parents to comfort her. Daemon’s fury had abated with their daughter's change in mood until he noticed a certain bandaged boy bound to his mother's side who would not meet his uncle’s eyes.

Aemond stood at the heart of bedlam. From the impassioned appeals to the king exchanged between the queen and the crown princess, Naerys gathered that the boy had managed to claim her cousin's dragon. Daenys had snuck out with her cousin when he had taken Vhagar while her mother had been consumed with her dark thoughts.

Baela and Rhaena had seen Aemond riding upon their mother's dragon and altered their bastard half-brothers of it. The Strong girl's mother was not yet cold in her grave and the boy had dared to claim her mount. They had already lost their father and now they had to suffer the loss of their mother and all that she had held dear.

It was a “slight” that they did not let go unpunished judging by the state of their bruised and bloody small faces as well as Aemond’s left eye. Naerys understood their anger, but the fighting had gotten out of hand.

Daemon deposited their daughter into his niece-wife’s arms. Kissing both their heads before turning to face his nephew. His wife was reminded of the Valyrian sword in his possession when the prince unsheathed Dark Sister. Naerys knew it would be impossible to stop him though she did protest. Aemond was a boy. He was hardly vicious enough to attack his little cousin.

“Is this your handiwork boy?” The king made no move to stop his brother. His pallid complexion took over by exasperation at being made to preside over this spat. His younger brother had enough fire for the both of them. He need not make a show of things.

Aemond looked terrified as his uncle closed in on him pointing his sword at him. Alicent pushed her son behind her as her sworn shield unsheathed his own blade in the prince's defense. Naerys wondered if Daemon would take his other eye. She wondered what the king might do as he ordered both Ser Criston and his brother to drop their swords.

“I fell.” Daenys' little voice cried. Her wailing had started once more. She buried herself into her mother's neck at her confession. Naerys did her best to try to console the young princess but she rambled on between sobs. “Cousin Aemond told me to go and I fell. He did not push me.”

“Daemon.” Her husband had not heard their daughter's muffled pleads. It was doubtful the rest of the hall had heard her. Her uncle snapped his pale neck towards them. Her uncle saw red, but his fire could be extinguished when he learned of the truth. He was a man capable of reason despite his hot-blood nature. “She fell. Your nephew did not do this.”

Naerys' husband stormed away from Alicent and her son. He would not believe their daughter's declarations until he saw for him. Looking into a matching set of violet eyes he took their daughter back from his wife’s hand. Shushing her as she babbled out apologies. “I fell kepa. I am sorry.” It was an accident. Daemon saw that. A childish accident.

Maester Orlys had finally arrived. Mindful of his wife's health Daemon directed one of the servants to fetch a chair commanding her to sit. Naerys did not argue. She had been standing for much longer than she should have. The day had exhausted her and drained a great deal of her recovering strength.

Daenys crawled into her lap as the Maester cleaned her wounds. Curling a hand around her mother’s coils the same way she did as a babe. Her poor child. If Naerys had not been so caught up in her own pain, Daenys could have been avoided.

The shouting around them recommenced. Each mother blamed the other and the king remained lackluster in his defense of both. Preferring to take on his version of impartiality. Who was he to choose between his son and his grandsons?

There could be no impartiality when his own son had lost an eye. If someone ever laid a finger on Daenys she would tear them apart limb for limb if Daemon had not gotten to them first. It was the king's blatant refusal to do anything for his son that disturbed Naerys the most.

It did not make it right, but Naerys knew why Aemond had claimed Vhagar. The boy's egg had never hatched. Out of all of Alicents children, he was the one who desperately clung to his Valyrian heritage. Her husband and her young cousin were alike in that regard. He had always scoffed at him for his Andal blood, but Naerys could see the restlessness of a second son in Aemond. He had wanted to prove himself and Vhagar was the way to do it. The largest Dragon in the world, the last living relic from the days of the conquest and she now belonged to a boy of ten name days.

“Daenys was party to this. Perhaps she should be questioned as well.” Rhaenyra turned her sharp gaze to the small girl in her cousin's lap. Daemon's violet eyes narrowed at his niece, but it was Naerys who spoke for their daughter.

She advanced towards Rhaenyra. The woman clutched her sons closer. Her uncle Lord Corlys stood by her side in absence of his son as his wife clung to their granddaughters, the last remnants of her daughter. Naerys would not be intimidated by her cousin's attempts at victimhood. She had gone too far by trying to accuse her daughter, a little girl of four name days, of aiding in alleged treason

“She fell and hit her head, sweet niece.” Naerys turned to face the king. Daenys would not be questioned by her cousin. She would not be brought into a fight that was not theirs. “My daughter can scarcely recall what happened to herself, much less the reason for the disagreement between your son and your grandson’s your grace or why Prince Aemond called them such names.” Naerys did not care if she was impertinent. Her cheek would no doubt be blamed on her recent losses. Better to let them think that she was weak.

The sickly man simply waved her off, going to question his sons. Their mother desperately defended them, but it was a vain endeavor. Viserys would not have the legitimacy of his beloved daughter's heirs questioned even at the expense of his sons or the truth of the matter.

The king demanded for the two factions of his family to kiss one another and apologize for whatever hurt they inflicted upon each other. The fighting must stop as they were a family. Devastation took over the queens. Tears clouded her dark eyes as she stared in disbelief at her husband's verdict. His choice to shield his daughter in favor of his son.

Alicent's inaction did not last longer than a minute. She grabbed her husband's dagger before anyone could stop her. Naerys tried to push herself out of the way from the queen's warpath as she came rushing towards Rhaenyra. The princess found herself caught between the queen and the would-be queen as Alicent demanded justice for her son and her own sacrifices. Her duty. Her stepdaughter laughed at every lawful devotion she held dear. Rhaenyra lorded above them all.

Naerys noticed Daemon scrambling to make his way to her, but he was held back by Ser Criston and two other members of his brother's kings guard. Calls for Alicent to release the dagger and the princess reverberated around the hall, among them was her own father, but the queen would not listen. She wanted blood.

Corlys tried to pull Rhaenyra back to him, but the three women stood locked in each other’s grips as Alicent tried to gain the upper hand, pointing her blade near her rival's eye. The crown princess taunted the queen. “Exhausting, isn’t it? Hiding under the cloak of your own righteousness, but now they see you as you are.” The Hightower woman swung her dagger at the princess forgetting that Naerys stood between them.

She felt the pain before she lowered her eyes to see blood running down her arm bleeding into her cream nightgown. The white bone peaked out from the exposed flesh. Naerys brought her uninjured hand to touch it, letting out a hiss at the sting. She grew dizzy at the sight.

Daemon came rushing to her, finally breaking through from the crowd that had parted in horror. Her husband wasted no time, putting pressure on her wound as he ripped off the left sleeve of her robe in a makeshift bandage. Lifting her before her legs gave out.

Naerys had lost too much blood with her last birth. She was not to exert herself. Not in this way. Her body was healing and who knew how far back this might set her. Alicent attempted to make her apologies. It was an accident. She had not meant to hurt Naerys.

Daemon brushed the woman off, casting a glare that would have killed her on the spot if it possessed the capability to do so. The queen had only escaped the physicality of her good brother's wrath. Her husband had made the wise decision of ordering his Kingsguard to apprehend Dark Sister when Alicent first grabbed

Rhaenyra went to follow them, but Daemon openly glared at his oldest niece. Demanding that she get a hold of herself. “Do you not think you have embarrassed yourself enough for one night?” Rhaenyra sulked back to her boys, avoiding the eyes of judgment that fell upon her. As they made to exit the great hall a teary Daenys began to trail after her parents, reaching up for her mother’s hand. Naerys limply squeezed her daughter’s hand giving her a reassuring smile. She tried not to give into the drowsiness that threatened to overtake her. She would not let it win out.

High Tide’s halls had grown quiet in the early morning. The rest of her uncle's guests had settled back into their chambers. The excitement of the evening had worn them out, but they would be up soon enough. More than likely journeying away from the havoc that had enfolded.

Daenys refused to be put to bed by her nursemaid until she knew that her mother would be out of danger. Curling into her mother's side as Maester Orlys sutured her arm. Naerys was not to strain herself further or lift anything heavier than a cup of tea for a fortnight. There would be a scar. That was unavoidable for the knife had torn through skin fat and tissue to reach the bone underneath, but the wound would heal nicely with proper care.

“Did you promise to give her a son?” The princess was the first to break the silence. Daemon had seated her in his lap on their bed as he stroked her un-injured arm, trying to lull her to sleep. Their maester had ordered her to get some rest. They were to travel home in mere hours. She needed her strength, but the events that occurred over the course of her cousin's funeral were too fresh to forget.

“Yes.” Daemon let out a sigh as he kissed her head, continuing his caresses. They were both too tired to lie or argue with one another. “I did not think that our marriage would be a happy one.” Naerys let out a soft snort, but her husband shushed her. Placing another kiss into her coils. “She had asked me to after she gave birth to Jace. Then again with Luke.”

“Why didn’t you?” He had plenty of opportunities too. In the early days of their marriage, Rhaenyra had been a constant in Dragonstone’s halls. Naerys could barely turn without seeing her cousin in the company of their uncle. Leaving Ser Laenor to entertain her. It would be easy enough to have her slip into his chambers during the night. To give his favorite niece a Valyrian son. His niece-wife would be none the wiser. She could not picture him ever denying the crown princess who he had wanted for so long, but he had.

“You seemed so lonely.” Naerys frowned slightly at her husband’s admission, but the man laughed, pulling her up so that she sat on his lap facing him. He moved his warm hands up to encircle her face. Amethyst eyes met violet.

Loneliness was an expectation of her life. She had grown used to the state with the passage of her own mother. Naerys had her mother’s brothers and her aunt after that, but some days it was hard not to feel like an interloper. They had not put up much resistance when her fathers half brother deigned to take her away to another empty palace. It was her duty. Her cross to bear became not so very unbearable.

“I did not mind it little one.” He beamed at her and it was a sight to see. “You were the first thing I had to myself that never belonged to someone else. I did not lie to my brother when I said that you were made for me.”

“Do you wish for a son?” The one thing that she could not give him. It is you who holds him back. If he ever was to have a son it would not be she who gave birth to him. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if needs be. If it would make him happy.

“I wish for everything with you.” Daemon continued to stroke down her cheeks. Rubbing soothing circles luring her into a state of contentment. The princess leaned into his touch. “I wish for Daenys to have brothers and sisters, but only with you. Just with you Naerys. I’d rather have you than see Dragonstone’s halls bursting with babes.”

“I love you Naerys. I love you, my sweet girl. No one else. Do you understand sweetling? I don’t want anyone else. I have no need for anyone else. I love you.” Naerys had not realized that she had begun to cry softly until her uncle kissed away the tears that fell upon her cheeks, gently shushing her. “I am sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise, but I am yours as you are mine. You are enough for me. You have always been enough.”

Daemon bent down slightly to capture his wife's lips in a kiss. Their tongues danced. She tasted the salt from her tears and the earth and heat that belonged to her husband. There was no fight for dominance. Naerys let herself be swept away by her husband’s attentions. Enjoying the warmth that spread throughout her worn body.

A knock sounded at their door. Naerys had to push her husband away to stop letting out a breathy giggle at her husband’s annoyance. The man groaned before placing one final kiss, or two, upon her lips.

Grudgingly making his way to the door to find the queen waiting for them. Ser Criston along with a fellow Kingsguard came with her. Though the latter stood watch in the hall, the first joined Alicent in their chambers. The Rogue Prince had not been given back Dark Sister, but any blade in his hand would be lethal. One could not be cautious enough.

Daemon tried to command the queen and her guards to leave. Goading her for her folly. “Have you come to finish the job?” It was Naerys who had to be the voice of reason when scolded her husband's silliness. Asking him to let them in. The man merely grumbled, but he listened to his wife’s bid. It would not do to be angry with Alicent when they knew she had not meant her any harm.

“Words can not express my deep regret princess.” The queen had knelt down on the floor in front of their bed. Taking Naerys brown hand in her pale one as the two men exchanged glares. “Nor my shame.” The Hightower woman’s glassy dark eyes flitted down to the stitches that graced the princess’s forearm.

“There is nothing to forgive sister.” Naerys returned her good sister's grasp. She knew that the blade had not been for her. Alicent had always been kind to her. Her quarrel lay with Rhaenyra and she had been unfortunate enough to be in the way when her anger got the best of her. “How is the prince?”

“The Maester was able to save his eyelid.” Alicent as she started to tear up. Wiping stray tears as they fell upon. She turned her gaze towards the chamber's dying fire. “He will make a full recovery. The king is pleased.” Her voice strained at her last words. Fury flashed in the queen's eyes before fading just as quickly as it came. Clearing her throat she turned back to face her good sister. “Your daughter, how is she?” Worry was evident across the Hightower woman’s face.

“She is fine, no thanks to your son.” Daemon sneered down at the woman. Coming to stand near his wife like a sentry. Ser Criston thankfully made no move to get closer to the queen. Though he did continue to stare down his old rival.” If you want something, spit it out. My wife needs her rest.” Alicent winced, but her focus stayed on Naerys.

“You are welcome at court anytime.” Daemon was about to retort when Alicent peered up at him.“Your brother would like to see more of you as well Prince Daemon.” The prince began to shift upon the balls of his feet. It amazed Naerys how her hot-blooded husband turned into a little boy at the mention of his brother.

“We will try to come to visit more often.” Daemon looked less than pleased with her reply, but Naerys would deal with her husband later. The king would not be around forever. Daemon had always loved Viserys. He would regret it if he was not closer to the king in his final years.

“Your daughter seems fond of my son. As is the prince.” It was said with an innocent enough smile. The woman was partial to Daenys. Inviting her to take tea or join her sewing circles with her and Helaena whenever they visited the Red Keep. The little princess was an easy enough child to get along with and a delight to be around, but Alicent was her father's daughter. Naerys could not forget that.

“That would be the one with the missing eye, correct?” Naerys swatted a hand at her husband in admonishment, but the man only reached for said hand bringing and bestowing a kiss upon the back of it. His violet eyes softened briefly before turning back to Alicent. “Our daughter is four. Your son is far too old for her.” Naerys was thankful for the fact that her uncle left it there. “You should check on him. I’m sure he’s missing his wet nurse.”

Fearing having overstayed her welcome Alicent offered her a small smile, squeezing her hand one last time before departing. Ser Criston trailed after his queen, making his exit with a bow and a ”princess” to Naerys while completely ignoring her stone-faced husband.

The Stranger still clung to Hide Tide. Making one final visit before he too would retreat for a spell. His work was never done. This time it had chosen another Velaryon to call to the Gods. Naerys' cousin Ser Laenor.

Neither Lord Corlys nor Rhaenys had come down to break their fast. A common occurrence during the duration of their short stay. Ser Vaemond saw the king and his party off as they left before noon. Aemond rode off on the back of Vhagar while the rest of the party boarded ships that would take them back to King's Landing. The other visiting funeral guests departed shortly after. High Tide was returning back to some version of normality. Though the absence of Lady Laena’s spirited presence was felt greatly.

It was Rhaenyra who broke the news of her husband’s passing to her uncle and cousin-aunt. The Targaryen couple were standing by the bay ready to return to Dragonstone, by the skies and sea, when the crown princess came rushing down towards them.

“My husband is dead.” With tears streaming down her pale face Rhaenyra launched herself at her uncle. “They murdered him. His friend, Ser Quarl, murdered him.” It had not come as a great surprise. The company that Ser Laenor had kept was less than suitable for a man of his rank. His lovers had never been discreet and had been ill-tempered for the role of the eventual prince consorts paramour.

“Take me with you back to Dragonstone.” Gripping her uncle tight enough for her knuckles to turn white one might think that she was grief-stricken. A part of Rhaenyra might mourn the loss of a husband and a great friend, but Naerys knew her games.

“I can not stay here. Not here with his parents. I can not be alone uncle.” The crown princess switched to their mother tongue for the next of her impassioned pleas. Hoping to hark on some less-than-familial sentiment that the prince once held for his niece. “Konīr iksos daorun bona stands isse īlva ñuhoso sir kepus. Issa kepa would daor deny īlva bisa.” There is nothing that stands in our way now uncle. My father would not deny us this.

Daemon placed an affectionate pat upon the Targaryen woman’s arm.“Comfort your children niece. They will need you.” Giving her a kiss on her cheek he turned to climb upon Caraxes' back. Taking to the skies once Daenys was placed securely in front of him. Maester Orlys ushered Naerys onto their vessel while the crown princess stood a white-faced statue paralyzed by the shock. Watching on until her beloved uncle and his family became distant dots in the sky and sea.

Ao3 Link:

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[tobitofunction]

Child of Mine

The children of one of the Champions look suspiciously like the Hero of Hyrule aka Harwin Strong and Rhaenyra from HOTD minus the death

TW: childbirth, pain of childbirth and blood

Also just for clarity:

Alec- oldest (your hair colour + blue eyes), Lenor- middle (blond + blue eyes but looks like you) 

Jace- youngest (looks like a mix between both you and Link)

Part2

The sounds of a crying newborn filled the room which was previously filled with the sounds of screaming, crying and cursing from a certain Champion,” It’s a boy. Hylia bless the mother” a nurse said handing you the newborn, tears of joy began rolling down your sweaty cheeks,” Is he healthy?”,” Kicking like a horse, my lady” the nurse said with a smile, you giggled and pressed your lips against his small head, the baby snuggled into your embrace,” Lady y/n, the Queen wants to see the baby” a maid said, it was Zelda’s personal maid, you didn’t say anything but just pulled the blanket closer over your son before you slowly got up with the help of the nurses and maids,” I will take him myself than” you said closing your eyes as you felt a sting of pain flow through your body and blood flow down your legs,” You should remain in bed, my Lady. The Queen wouldn’t want you in any pain” the maid said trying to get you back down on the bed,” Get me dressed” you said ignoring what she said previously. You sighed in pain as they began dressing you, the baby in your arms seemed to have fallen asleep but it didn’t last long as you had to hand the baby over so you could be dressed probably, the second the baby left your arms, his cries began to fill the room again making your heart clench.

“How much do you wanna bet that the child was born with suspicious golden hair or brilliantly blue eyes?” Teba asked playing with his bow,” Shh” Yunbo said nervously looking around for either the Queen or her loyal knight,” Why? We can all see it, well all besides our Queen and that husband of hers” Teba continued,” Are you sure that Master Link is the father? Lady Y/N, the husband is a Sheikah, isn’t there a small possibility -”,” How does a white-haired man with red eyes and a woman with h/c and e/c make children with golden blond hair and brilliant blue eyes, Mmmh?” Teba cut the young Goron off,” You might be a Champion but your words still will be seen as treason,” Riju said making the Rito roll his eyes,” I am just being truthful”l,” Nature works in mysterious ways, my friend”, Sidon reasoned”,” I don’t care if Link is the father but I doubt the Sheikah’s would like someone being their chief with no blood connection to them” Teba shrugged, soon Zelda entered the room ending the questioning of your children parentage.” Did the maid bring the baby yet?” Zelda asked hopeful, just at this moment you walked in with the baby in your arms, and your husband Priven who was at your side helping you walk,” Y/N, why are you walking? You need to be in bed” Zelda gasped,” You wanted to see the baby” you said with a fake smile trying to mask the pain,” I didn’t expect you to bring the child, I should have come to you” she said with a sigh,” Here sit” she said helping you sit down,” He looks so cute” Zelda smiled peaking down at the child,” The two of you must be happy, he kind of looks like you Lord Priven” she said looking between you and your husband who smiled widely, you looked Priven up and down before giving a fake smile,” Can I hold him?” you nodded, Zelda smiled when you handed her the newborn, a small cry left the boy but he settled in quickly in the arms of the Queen,” Do you have a name?” she asked,” No-“,” Jace” your husband said cutting you off, you gave him an annoyed look,” An unusual name for a Sheikah?” Teba said gaining an elbow in the ribs from Riju,” How would you know? You aren’t Sheikah after all” she lifted a brow making the white Rite grumble” Did the birth go alright,” Riju then asked sitting down beside you,” I called the midwife a cunt, so all went well” you smiled,” If you're in much pain, I could try to heal you,” Sidon said,” I have been practising” he added, you gave him a smile,” I should be fine Sidon, he isn’t my first child, but thank you. Talking about children where are my other sons?”,”They’re with Link in their chambers” Zelda said cooing at the baby in her arms,” One day you might get a baby which will actually look like you?” Teba commented looking at the child and back at Priven, who nodded with a tight-lipped smile, you send the large bird a glare before looking at Zelda who didn’t seem to hear the comment,” We should see the children, they probably want to meet their baby brother” you said slowly getting up with the help of Riju and Sidon.

Link meanwhile watched the two boys playing with their toys with a fond smile,” Master Link, do you believe we get another brother?” the former youngest of your sons asked, his striking blue eyes staring into Link’s,” There is a possibility” he said ruffling his blond locks. The door swung open revelling you and your husband,” Mom, Dad look what we made for the baby” Alec your oldest said,” Purah helped us make it” Lenor said holding up the egg,” It’s a Sheikah egg” he added,” I let Lenor choose the design” Alec said making you ruffle his hair which was identical to yours,” That’s very sweet of you” you said sitting down in the couch,” How was the birth?” Link asked,” Painful like the others but it was worth it,” you said smiling down at the boy,” Have a name in place already?” you hummed,” My dear husband has,” you said looking up at the Sheikah male,” Jace” he smiled happily making Link nod,” Would it be alright for me to hold him?” Link said his eyes lingering on the sleeping baby in your arms,” Of course, come on boys. Let’s give some privacy to your mother and the baby. Sidon is still here if you’re fast enough you might still catch him” he said making the two boys faces light up with happiness and making them speed out the room. The Sheikah male turned to you and Link, he gave you a nod and a small smile before walking out of the room. Once they were gone you handed Link the baby,” He looks like a good mix from the both of us” you whispered, making Link blush and nod,” Hey, don’t sleep in front of Hyrule’s Knight Commander” Link said to sleep child making you chuckle, Link gently stroked the babies soft cheek with his thump,” It gets harder every time I see you guys, seeing the boys, how they carry some of my features but knowing that they never call me what they call your husband” he said looking down at Jace who was snoring softly. You sighed, you loved Link and he loves you back, but Link was the hero of Hyrule, his purpose was to protect the goddess descended and defeat the evil, this doesn’t leave much space for a wife and kids, doesn’t matter how much Link wants to, he doesn’t want his family to live in constant danger. So when Impa proposed a marriage between her grandchildren and one of the Champion it seemed like a gift, as the Priven who was the oldest of her Grandchildren, seemed to have little interest in you, so he agreed to the bargain of Link fathering the children and he just have to keep up the good husband and loving father front with you as his loyal wife, but another promise of never telling the children about their actual father was also put in place, something Link thought would be okay for him, as it was for their own safety but he never thought that it would hurt so much seeing his boys call someone else father,” Once the Sheikah elders find out it’s over for us...me” you said rubbing your now empty belly,” I hate to say it to you but the Sheikah’s are already talking” you bit your lip at Link’s words,” I know, so are our fellow Champion’s and your fellow knights, some are nicer than the others” you confessed,” Tell me who they are and I make sure they regret it” Link said with narrowed eyes,” Don’t, it will only bring more suspicion on you” you caressed his face gently,” I love you Link”,”I love you y/n” he said gently kissing you. 

The door swung open revealing Zelda, the two of you jumped apart” Isn’t he the cutest?” Zelda asked Link plopping down beside him,” I don’t know how you do it y/n, 3 children. Maybe one day I can experience this as well” she said looking at the baby in her friend's arms blissfully unaware of the situation.” Zelda? Have you heard any rumours about my son’s parentage?” you asked as Link’s eyes widened,” Yes, but do not worry anyone who dares to spread those lies while punished” Zelda said firmly looking at you,” Thank you” you said trying to avoid her gaze.

“Lady Impa, news from the castle. Lady y/n gave birth to another boy” a messenger said,” Another boy, how wonderful” Impa said,” Those this message state a certain resemblance to the hero of Hyrule?” Robbie hummed making Impa shoot him a look,” Robbie please”, Robbie shrugged,” We all know it’s true. I love those kids but they aren’t Sheikah”,” Be careful my friend, these words can be seen as treason and the Queen won’t be kind on those who question the children’s parentage” Symin, Purah’s assistant said,” Not only that but blood doesn’t make family, love does and my grandson loves those boys to bits” Impa said,” Tell that to the other elder’s, they won’t see it as you do Impa” Robbie said making Impa sigh,” Your right but I am the Village main elder, so they will have to suck it up like the younglings say”.

Link walked outside the Castle, the boys were currently training with a fellow knight, a knight who doesn’t seem to like Link in the slightest,” Hello Commander” he said with a smirk,” Hello, how is the training going?” Link asked folding his arms over his chest,” Those boys are sloppy, which is surprising for having two- I mean one parent who is a Champion and another as Sheikah” he said making Link bit the inside of his cheek,” Well they are quite young, give them time” Link said,” Yeah, it’s just surprising, as you were besting soldier at their age and even pulled that fancy sword” he shrugged,” What do I have to do with it?”Link lifted a brow,” Oh nothing Commander, just because you put some much effort into their sword training and it’s not even showing progress” he said,” How I said they’re doing fine” Link said when suddenly Alec crashed to the ground, a small whimper leaving his mouth,” Alec, are you alright?” Link asked helping him up,” Yeah, I am fine Master Link,” he said dusting the dirt off his clothes, Link nodded and picked up the wooden sword he dropped,” Commander you need to stop babying them. If you want them to be like you, like father and-”,” Finish that sentence and you be done for” Link snapped,” Why? It was just a metaphor. It’s rare to see someone put so much effort into a child, usually, we see this kind of care only for family” he smirked. Link clenched his jaw, his fist tightening around the wooden sword. The Knight was about to say something when a familiar voice cut him off,” Link, may I speak to you?” Zelda said sternly, Link nodded and shoved the wooden sword into the knight's chest.

“Are you the father of y/n children? Tell me the truth” Zelda began as the two friends entered her chambers,” No-”,” Don’t lie to me, please, aren’t we friend?” she said softly. Linked hummed,” What gave it away?”,” Your reaction to the Knights' teasing. You usually don’t care about rumours, you brush them off like it’s nothing but all of a sudden this rumour made you nearly punch one of your knights”,” It’s a rumour about my honour, of course-”,” There were rumours about us being lovers, that you and Mipha were secretly married even though it was against her father wishes. These were rumours which could have damaged your honour as well but you didn’t care” Link sighed again,” I love her Zelda, and I love my boys. I don’t regret anything” he admitted,” Then why didn’t you say anything. I would have wedded the two of you in seconds” she sighed in frustration,” It’s not that. I’m the Hero of Hyrule, I have so many enemies. If they find out that y/n is my heart and that her boys were fathered by me, people will come after them. I couldn’t live with myself if they died or even got hurt because of me. Having Impa’s Grandson as a father to them is safe, no one would dare touch them, as in their eyes they can’t prove that I am the father of them. Blond hair isn’t evidenced enough when the father is white-haired” Link said making Zelda nod,” I understand, I won’t tell anyone but please, stop having kids. You two are walking a very fine line here” Zelda warned Link, nodded knowing she is right,” I thought I was going crazy, I know nature works in mysterious ways but when I see one of the boys they always reminded me of you somehow, either in personality or looks, but now I am glad that I am not crazy” she joked lightening the mood,” They got some of my features, yeah but they mostly take after their mother” Link nodded,” Thankfully, as a few similarities to you can be explained away but a child which looks like you exactly will be impossible-”,” I know” Link cut her off.

Zelda watched as your boys were saying their goodbyes to the other Champions, mostly to Sidon, who the boys adore and vice versa. Alec's blond looks glisten in the sun, identical to her knight,” You called for me?” your voice said from behind her,” I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I wanted to talk to you” Zelda said helping you sit down,” It’s fine the baby is sleeping” you smiled,” I know about you and Link” Zelda said directly making your smile drop,” I don’t-“,” Y/N, please don’t lie” you looked at your lap,” I’m so sorry” you whispered, Zelda sighed and grabbed your hand, giving them a squeeze,” It’s fine, I just feel so stupid that I didn’t see it from the beginning” she scoffed with a smile,” Maybe it’s a good thing?” you said softly making her nod,” Hopefully not many people will continue to see the resemblance” she gave your hand another squeeze,” I love your children very much, and I will do whatever is in my power to make sure they are safe” you placed your other hand on top of hers and gave a grateful smile,” Thank you”. The door suddenly swung open revealing Link,” The Yiga clan, they have attacked Lord Priven on his way to the Sheikah Village” Link said, you gasped and Zelda’s eyes widened,” Do the boys-”,” No, they aren’t aware of this, yet” Link answered you,” How is his condition?” Zelda asked,” Impa message said it was critical, they will try everything in their power to bring him back to health” Link said,” Why was he attacked? The Yiga never posted a problem to him... us” Link sighed,” I wish I knew, but until your husband recovered we will not know” Link said softly,” Link, make sure the Champion’s don’t leave and when they have sent a messenger for them to turn back. I have a feeling this attack has something bigger in mind” Zelda said getting up and folding her hands together, Link nodded, his gaze was fixed on you who was staring into the ground.”I leave the two of you” she said walking past Link, she patted his shoulder before leaving her room.

“Is it our fault? Did the Yiga clan find out about us? Is that their way of telling us?” you said, Link sat down beside you, grabbed your hand and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles,” Don’t blame yourself, my love, Priven was the grandson of Impa, they might have targeted him for this” Link said, “ After 25 years? He never was attacked by a Yiga member, not even once. People have been whispering about our children for years, maybe it has been to a larger extent than we thought” Link didn't answer, knowing that you are probably right. He wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you closer to his,” Whatever will happen, I will protect you and the boys, even if it means dying” Link said cupping your chin and looking into your eyes, which had tears building in them,” I never felt so scared Link, if something happens to them-”,” I won’t let that happen. You and the boys are my worlds, and I rather see Hyrule burn down than see you or the boys hurt” you smiled sadly at him,” If Hyrule burned down we wouldn't have a place to live, so you better not let this burn down” you joked making Link chuckle, you kissed his lips,” You need to go, I will be fine. I’m just a little bit useless right now” you said,” You gave birth a few hours ago, you are allowed to be” he said getting up.