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magicshopaholic · 11 months

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Getting Ahead (Jimin x OC)

Summary: You reflect on your past relationship with Jimin and wonder if history might be repeating itself.

Pairing: Jimin x OC

Genre: Exes; angst potential

Word count: 3.1 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: none

A/N: A little nervous about this one, not gonna lie. It was supposed to be another "story" story but ended up being a Sooah drabble instead. Features Chaeyoung in detail, and is set approximately four months after Never Have I.

Also, special shout-out to @oddinary4bts who read one fic a day and finished my entire masterlist in record time - plus reviews on each! This is the first fic she will read on release so, yay, Ella! Loved loved loved every single notification I got from you <3

Tagging: @bbl32@ quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @jiminjhang @faearchives @margopinkerton @purpleseoul7

Listen to: “breathe” by anna nalick

jimin masterlist | main masterlist

Sooah had grown up in a blur. Her parents’ passive aggressive marriage, the aunts and uncles who’d moved in and moved out, the friend groups that evolved faster than a virus. Even her job was a blur; each event, scrambling to be put up, pulled off with hard work, and onto the next.

It was all a blur. Sooah was used to the blur. She was the only thing that stood steady within the blur, unmoving, watching the chaos of teenage angst in a state of borderline dissociation.

That was until Park Jimin entered her life, however, and suddenly her axis stumbled. He was clearer than anything else ever had been; he was sweet, he was kind, he loved to dance. He was shy and introverted, but he made her world go round.

Sooah watched Jimin pluck up the courage to tell her how he felt for months, and she was enchanted. He was all brains and maths and it was very impressive, but every time their gazes met for more than a second or their fingers accidentally brushed, all that shaky confidence melted into a series of stutters and he’d look away.

Eventually, Sooah asked him out after one of their study sessions. Truth be told, she hadn’t needed his help after the previous semester ended but she’d kept the routine going anyway, enjoying this blushing boy’s company more than expected. His cheeks predictably went pink but he nodded and Sooah, unable to resist smiling, promised to meet him later that week.

She also made the first move and kissed him at the end of their date; it didn’t seem like Jimin was going to risk crossing a line he wasn’t sure of and Sooah personally liked the fact that he cared enough to overthink it. She wasn’t going to handhold him forever, though; she promised herself that the next move would be his, and she waited nearly three months before he asked her officially to be his girlfriend.

Or, he didn’t quite ask. His exact words were So… does this mean I’m your boyfriend? Or are you - are you my girlfriend?

Given that this question was asked while they fooled around by the bushes behind her parents’ house, it took Sooah a little by surprise. She sat up on her elbows, ignoring the grass in her hair, and squinted at him.

Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jimin?

No. I’m asking if - okay, yes. Yeah, I am. I guess.

You guess?

I am!

She giggled at his whiny exclamation, his eyes wide and dramatic, and kissed him in response. They progressed for the first time from the bushes to her parents’ couch that evening, feeling like they’d crossed the ultimate threshold, until he had to leave for dance practice at Big Hit.

—

It’s no longer a blur. Not the same kind, at least. Now, it’s like a ride at the amusement park, one of those dangerous ones that goes in all directions - except she’s been on it at least five hundred times.

It’s unbecoming of her, a professional with a job, to be peeking at her phone every few minutes while she’s at a client site. She walks alongside her manager, pinstriped trousers and sharp heels, hoping she looks chic enough to blend in with the people at this fashion label that’s hosting a luncheon with a group of buyers next month.

It’s all about faking it till she makes it. Fake the fun, make the friends. Fake the studious nature, make the parents happy. Fake the confidence - make the event a success.

Her manager nudges her subtly then, asking her if she’s taking notes.

Of course she is. This is her job, her priority. Not even an absentee boyfriend can distract her from it. Once she’s done for the day, however, the boyfriend takes centre stage in her mind again.

Sooah wants to text him again, but at this point, it will come off as clingy. Or paranoid, depending on the wording. The last text she sent him was Can we talk before you go to bed? It’s borderline desperate, not to mention pointless, for she’s sure he doesn’t even have his phone.

It’s probably with his manager, or his stylist. He won’t get it until after practice, after the stage rehearsal, after the fitting, after the backstage filming. After that, someone will have ordered a disproportionately small amount of food for the group; the boys will inhale it and pass out in the car on the way to their dorm. Alex will most likely not even look at his phone until tomorrow morning.

Unfortunately, she knows these things.

Her fingers itch with the desire to send another text, a passive aggressive one this time. Not because it’s his fault really, but because the niceties aren’t getting his attention.

After a moment, though, she shakes her head and tosses her phone into the laundry bin for good measure, hoping to get rid of any temptation. It’s too early in this relationship to show her true colours, and there’s no telling if Alex will be up for a fight.

Fake the peace, make the relationship.

—

The sun is bright - too bright. Even in the cold of December, it’s too bright.

The sun is too bright, the coffee is too hot, the dude at the next table is too loud, and Sooah is too annoyed. She hangs on to the annoyance, though, somewhat enjoying how it’s making her walk faster, how people seem to be stepping out of her way on the pavements - it’s strangely cathartic, despite how unfair it is.

She keeps it going all the way to Chaeyoung’s apartment, knowing she’s about an hour too early to pick her up for their lunch and movie date. But she doubts Chaeyoung would mind; in the few months that she’s known the younger girl, Sooah has picked up on her slight discomfort with her roommate, Sungmi - and her boyfriend, Ice.

She also thinks she’s picked up on a mild loneliness of sorts - the same one Sooah remembers she’d felt when she’d finished college and started working in Seoul by herself. Having finished high school in Seoul, she’d already had friends to begin with. Chaeyoung didn’t say it to her in so many words, but her delight in realising she’d made a friend outside of work was both sweet and transparent.

It initially amused Sooah, but being Chaeyoung’s friend has felt like one of the easiest relationships of her life so far, despite the bar being laughably low.

This neighbourhood isn’t the safest one Sooah has been to, but with one hand on her purse and the other clutching her keys, she hurries into the small building and up the flight of stairs. Chaeyoung throws open the door just as Sooah is about to ring the doorbell, and there are two quick shrieks in succession.

“Holy crap,” pants Chaeyoung, opening the door further and stepping aside. “Unnie, I wasn’t expecting you till -” She breaks off and pats the pockets of her pajamas for her phone and checks the time. “- at least another hour.”

“Yeah, I know,” mutters Sooah, trudging inside and sighing, realising only now how pathetic it could seem that she ambushed Chaeyoung in her own house. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t sit in that stupid coffee shop anymore. At first it was just pitying looks and subtle questioning, but then -” She huffs and falls into a chair at the small dining table “- one of the baristas brought me a pity muffin. Just to make it absolutely clear that I’ve been stood up, in case anyone had any doubts.”

“Oh, wow.” Chaeyoung winces. It’s clear she hasn’t even started getting ready yet; her hair is still in a bun and she’s still wearing what she presumably wore to bed. “Alex didn’t make it?”

“No, and I don’t even know why I’m surprised.” She waves a hand. “Sorry, don’t let me keep you. Take your time getting ready. I’ll wait.”

“Yeah…” Chaeyoung bites her lip slowly. “I was going to text you, unnie…”

“No. No, Chae!” Sooah whines, her shoulders falling. “Not you, too!”

“I’m sorry! I just got the call a little while ago,” she says quickly. “I have to go to the office for a lunch meeting.”

“That is just perfect,” mutters Sooah, putting a hand to her forehead. “Today’s just one of those days, I guess, where everyone seems to be cancelling on me.”

“I’m really sorry,” repeats Chaeyoung, taking a seat next to her. “It’s a client meeting. It was supposed to be on Monday but then they cancelled and said that they were only free today - plus, this is like my first big project ever and I’m supposed to cover the entire history of the brand from inception…”

Chaeyoung is rambling. Sooah instantly feels guilty for lumping her in the same category as her boyfriend, so she nods, waiting for her to finish.

“- not wanting to be fired.” Chaeyoung swallows, eyes wide with guilt.

Sooah nods again. “It’s fine. Really. It’s your work, you don’t have a choice,” she elaborates, giving her a small smile when she sighs in relief.

Chaeyoung is quiet for a minute. "I'm sorry your date sucked," she ventures uncertainly. “Would you like a beer?”

Sooah nods absently, her gaze deliberately fixed on the mismatched salt and pepper shakers on the dining table. "It can't suck if it didn't happen."

“I’m sorry I added to it.”

“Don’t be. At least you have a genuine reason.”

“Alex doesn’t?”

“I don’t know!” Sooah blurts out in frustration. “Because he never actually called me.”

"Maybe he got busy,” suggests Chaeyoung, returning from the kitchen with two bottles and an opener. “Like, putting-out-a-fire-at-work kind of busy. Or his car broke down. Or he got in an accident!" When Sooah looks up at her incredulously, she shrugs self-consciously. "I - it's not ideal, but at least it's viable."

"Forget it," sighs Sooah after a moment, accepting the beer even though it’s seven degrees outside. "This wouldn't be the first time I've been stood up at a coffee shop."

She can sense that Chaeyoung wants to ask but is struggling not to. It warms her heart without meaning to, and she clinks her bottle with hers.

“Am I making you late?”

“Not at all,” replies Chaeyoung at once. “I don’t have to leave for a couple of hours.”

“I just can’t believe I’m back here,” says Sooah in a low voice. “After all these years, I’m right back where I started. I’m - I’m basically dating my ex all over again.”

Chaeyoung frowns. “What - wait, do you mean Jimin?”

Sooah nods, cringing inwardly. It’s not a fun thing to admit. “How do I choose these guys? How do I always end up in one of these relationships where I’m literally the last priority? And it’s my fault,” she adds, without waiting for Chaeyoung to respond, “because I pick these guys.”

“These guys,” repeats Chaeyoung slowly, “like, idols? Do you - do you always date idols?”

“No,” she huffs, “I’ve dated other guys. But after Park Jimin, this is probably my longest relationship to date.” She replays that in her head and shudders. “It’s pathetic, I know.”

“No judgement.” Chaeyoung pauses. “So, wait - is that why you’re with Alex? Is that, like, your type?”

“No,” answers Sooah immediately. “Alex and Jimin are nothing alike. It’s just their jobs that are similar and… I’m not a teenager anymore. I don’t have the time to stay up at night and worry about why my boyfriend hasn’t called me.”

“How long has it -”

“Eleven days.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes widen. “Eleven -”

“Eleven days since we’ve spoken on the phone,” confirms Sooah. “It’s just been one-word texts and missed calls, mostly from me. But, yeah, eleven days since I’ve actually heard his voice. And, no,” she adds, holding up a hand, “hearing his songs at Starbucks doesn’t count.”

Chaeyoung nods thoughtfully. “You know, that may not be the worst thing in the world. I mean, Hoseok has started this new thing where he warns me of a different disaster every day,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He acts like he wants to know how my day is going but then latches onto something stupid and gives me a whole lecture on it. Yesterday, it was about boiling water. He told me the steam could soften the plaster on the ceiling and lead to seepage. The day before that, it was about the dangers of the subway.”

Sooah squints, sensing that Chaeyoung might be losing the plot. “I don’t think this is… quite like that,” she says delicately. “Alex is basically AWOL, and Hoseok is…”

“An interfering arse, I know. You’re right, it’s not the same thing.” Chaeyoung sits back in her chair. “My point is… wait, hang on - do you want me to make a point?”

“What?”

“You know… do you want to actually talk about this or just vent and have me listen? Because I can do both,” she says earnestly.

“Oh.” It’s quite insightful of her, given how young she is, and Sooah is suddenly glad she landed up here an hour early. “Yeah, no, I can talk about it. Not angry enough to vent yet,” she points out.

“Alright. My point was… what does all this have to do with Jimin?”

Literally everything.

Sooah bites her lip, reliving it for the millionth time. “This is exactly how it started with him. Everything was going well, he was sweet, he had dreams and I - I liked being that person,” she confesses. “I liked being that person he shared his hopes and dreams with, who got to see him grow and become big.” She sighs. “Until he got too big.”

“And is Alex getting too big?”

“No. I mean, not yet. I mean -” Sooah shakes her head. “I’m not trying to sound evil. I want him to be big, I want him to get what he’s been working for because he deserves it, but… where does that leave me?” she asks in a small voice.

“What do you mean? You’re right here.”

“No, but when those guys started touring and all after debut, everything changed. Jimin changed.” Sooah wrings her hands in her lap. “It was like… like I was his life before, when he was sweet and shy and wore glasses, and now he was in the after, with orange hair and that stupid smirk. And I didn’t fit into that.” And then he dropped me a goddamn text.

“Is Alex changing?”

“No. I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell,” she admits. “But how productive of a person would I be if I ignored the similarities and made the same mistakes all over again? I mean, shouldn’t people be learning from their past relationships? Isn’t that the whole point?”

Chaeyoung opens her mouth as if to say something, but then seems to think the better of it.

“What?”

“What what?”

“You were going to say something.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Chae.” Sooah gives her a look. “Come on, you’re the smart one, wise beyond your years and all. Tell me.”

Chaeyoung half-chuckles, bringing one leg up on the chair and resting her arm on her knee. “I… don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say, unnie.”

“Wh- sure I will. Or I wont, but I can take tough love.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Out with it.”

Chaeyoung licks her lips and observes Sooah for a moment. “I think… you’re being a little unfair to Alex.”

Sooah says nothing, not liking where this is going.

“I think everything you’ve told me so far has been about Jimin and not Alex,” she continues. “And I get it, it can’t be easy not hearing from him for days and getting stood up and stuff, but… would you be this worried if you’d never dated Jimin?”

“I think I’d be more worried. At least now I know it’s not about me. This is all him.”

“But which him?” Chaeyoung asks patiently. “Are you just projecting all of your… I don’t know, baggage with Jimin onto Alex? Because then you’re not even giving him a fair shot.”

Sooah was right; she doesn’t like where this is headed at all. “Would that really be the worst thing? Knowing what I know and using it to make an informed decision?”

Chaeyoung bites her lip and tilts her head, and it takes Sooah a moment to realise she’s solved her own crisis. She hates where this has ended up.

“I hate you.”

“Look, maybe you’re right and Alex doesn’t have the capacity for a relationship right now. In that case, just break it off before it gets ugly. But if you’re wrong and you think Alex can still make it work…” She shrugs again. “You can’t date your boyfriend and your ex-boyfriend at the same time.”

Fake the clarity, make the choice.

Sooah stares at Chaeyoung. “How old are you again?”

“Twenty-two.” She grins. “I know, I sound like I’m… thirty or something.”

Sooah scoffs, taking a large sip of her beer. “You don’t sound thirty, believe me. You sound… like, sixty-five.”

“Sixty-five.”

“Yeah. It’s good. I think I could use more sixty-five year old friends.”

“I’d be the fittest sixty-five year old you will ever know,” promises Chaeyoung, flexing a thin, largely invisible bicep. “Plus, then I’d be retired and wouldn’t have to work on a Saturday.”

“I’ll remind you you said that when you text me every single detail of the meeting like you did last time,” promises Sooah, drinking the last of the beer and standing up. “That’s my cue to leave.”

“You don’t have to,” begins Chaeyoung, but she stands up as well. “If Alex doesn’t get back to you by tonight, do you want to hang out?”

“Oh, if Alex doesn’t get back to me by tonight,” says Sooah, gathering her bag and making her way to the door, “I will have definitely progressed to the venting stage.”

—

It’s still a blur. Experiences, missed calls, tearful fights, passive aggressive texts. They’re all there, swimming around in a sea of deteriorating relationships, while Sooah struggles to pinpoint a time and place to each of them. She can’t, though, not when it’s a blur and the only tangible thing she can feel is the dull throb in her chest that seems to have no distinct cause, only a constancy impossible to ignore.

Sooah stares at her phone, big and black on her bed. She won’t call Chaeyoung tonight, no matter what happens. It’s just not the night. She’s going to have to have a tough conversation with at least one important person in her life, and it all depends on whether her past with Jimin has damaged her to the point of second-guessing every relationship she ever has in her life.

She thinks of the word Chaeyoung used. Baggage. Implying that it’s not Jimin that’s the problem, but whatever she’s still carrying from their time together, including the sweet and shy smile, all the way up to the orange hair and dumbass smirk.

Face the past head-on, make the future a little clearer.

Sighing, she picks up the phone.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#jimin x oc #jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #thebtswritersclub #banganwhq #bangtantheatrenet #bangtanoasis #bangtanbathhouse #micdropnet #k-vanity #wkcnet #bts jimin exes #bts jimin angst

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an-abyss-of-stars · 1 year

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He saw her at daybreak - Part 6

Summary: Rhaena is now five if not six moons along with her pregnancy and she's beginning to feel the weight of it all. She's hungry all of the time, she's craving odd things, she's irritable and easily upset, incredibly horny and Aemond has begun to become a touch too overprotective…

Warnings: SMUTTTT SMUTTY SMUT! This series is explicit fr tho.

Tag list: @minim236 , @bohemian-nights , @neocil , @nettysnest , @avidreader73 , @jordanjanellejoyy , @azaleapotterblack , @yourlittlehoe , @partypoison00 , (feel free to tell me if you want to be on the taglist or not)

P.S. I have returned!!! (Yet again!! I'm so sorry!!)

This is the "world-building" chapter, and I want to say that's why this took so long for me to finish/post it. But I'm also going to blame the next upcoming chapter for that! LMAO look out everyone, I've finished writing ch.7 and it's literally 30k in length, fucking hell.

But for now, enjoy this cute little "day in the life of preggo Rhaena" chapter!!

☾

THREE MOONS LATER

It was a grey rainy morning, but it was there that Rhaena found herself tucked safely in Aemond's tight heated embrace. With her back pressed against his warm solid chest, his firm strong arms wrapped around her with his large hands splayed across her now rounded belly. How he managed to keep such a protective hold over her even while he was soundly asleep would never cease to amaze her.

It was in this protective hold, where she felt the most at home. Always relishing in his closeness, the strong security he always provided for her. Especially now that Rhaena was five…if not six moons along, her belly had grown immensely in that time and several other things had changed as well.

Three moons ago, Rhaena and her husband were officially crowned the Princess and Prince of Dragonstone .

They were given a true ceremony, where the whole of their family was present, as well as an audience of all the noble Lords and Ladies of the realm. With Rhaena's mother, Rhaenyra, sitting upon the Iron Throne. Rhaena's father, Daemon had stood steadfast by her side as he always did. Both Rhaena and Aemond had knelt before them, before the Queen of the seven kingdoms. And Rhaena was happy to do so of course, but she'd known then that it still must've been an odd position for Aemond to willingly submit himself to.

Though he'd made his choice long ago, the night he chose Rhaena to be his bride…was the night he solidified the side he wished to be on. And so on that day, he knelt before his eldest sister, his Queen, right alongside Rhaena, his wife.

There Queen Rhaenyra spoke grandly, letting the spoken vow be known to all, before Aemond repeated the words as did Rhaena herself after him.

Once they had, Aemond had been presented with the legendary Blood Moon , the Valyrian steel sword that once belonged to Daenys the Dreamer . It was an impressive long sword, the black blade held a dark reddish glint seen only in the moonlight or sunlight, it had razored ridges all along the sides down to the tip. While down the center of the blade lay shimmering engraved Valryian runes that read: Valyria may burn, yet, the blood of the Dragon shall walk through the flames . The hilt was curved and crafted like the wing of a dragon, gold and steel, the handle was black leather bound. And finally, there was one rounded ruby embedded dead center on the hilt, surrounded by a row of obsidian gems.

Truly a blade made for her beloved dragon.

It was just as dark and gleaming as he was, if not a tad overly jewelled for his liking, but either or, Rhaena knew Aemond would come to love the blade no matter what. She couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips then, the look on Aemond's face had been priceless. The pure awe that shone in his eye and on his face entirely, she knew it meant the world to him to finally be in possession of such a blessed and historical Targaryen artifact. Much more than that, he finally had a true Targaryen sword , a real Valyrian steel blade that had been passed down from ancestor to ancestor.

That day had meant so much to him.

Just as well, it made her heart soar to witness it with him.

After he was handed his sword, Rhaenyra had slowly placed a crown upon Rhaena's head. Rhaena had recognized it immediately, from the deep dark pure red rubies which encrusted the golden crown along its spiked edges to the dotting shards of the purest obsidian which graced the peaks of the crown. It was archaic and ruthless in its beauty, sharpened like the fangs of a dragon, but graceful in its sway as it was made for a Queen . This was the crown of the great Conquering Queen Rhaenys .

Yet another incredibly prized symbol of the House of the Dragon.

With the fondest look on Rhaenyra's face, Rhaena had felt her mother's warm pride wash over her. And with a glance to her father, she could see a very similar look on his face as well.

In part, she liked to believe her birth mother, her true muña , Lady Laena, was looking down on her with pride as well. For while she knew her mother spent the rest of her eternity flying amongst the ancestors in Balerion’s beautiful fated realm…it still only felt right to imagine that she was allowed to bear witness to the important things in her life. Such as her Valyrian wedding and now this ceremony…and soon enough, Rhaena hoped her muña would bear witness to the birth of her first child.

In the end, once the vows and blessings were bestowed, both Rhaena and Aemond were told to rise, proclaiming to the audience of nobles and family alike, that Prince Aemond Targaryen had now become the Prince Of Dragonstone and that Princess Rhaena Targaryen had now become the Princess Of Dragonstone . Sworn to the crown, sworn to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and King Daemon Targaryen, rulers and protectors of the Seven Kingdoms and the realm.

They now guarded and Lorded over the ancestral home of House Targaryen. They held authority over the keeping of the legendary Valyrian military post known as Hell's Edge , home to specially trained warriors subservient to the crown known as the Hell's Legion .

They would also rule over the two ancient towns that rested on the island's lower region. The bustling port town, Dracaena and the quiet farming village, Tegun Skrykos.

They'd be the main ruling authority over hearings and petitions made by the towns’ common folk, small isle folk and the complaints of minor Lords of lesser importance, even major Lords with complaints that could be handled without meeting with the Queen herself. Depending on the severity of criminal cases, and attacks on the crown, they'd also have the authority to commit executions and or pardons.

A part of the job Rhaena knew her husband would relish for certain…the execution part of things at least.

And now that they were three moons into their position, Rhaena could say with certainty, Aemond most certainly loved a good execution.

Any execution really, but that was besides the point.

Dragonstone was a functioning castle and court once again. And while Aemond might bask in his new found authority here, Rhaena basked in ruling over the court here.

But in the mornings, she mainly let herself melt into the warmth her husband provided for her. Still tangled up together in one another's arms and overall coziness, the previous night had been an eventful one. If Rhaena ever doubted that her husband would find her just as appealing as he had previously…compared to now, as she grew rounder with his child…well all such doubts evaporated day by day.

If anything, Rhaena dared to think his arousal for her had only increased ever since her belly had begun to grow larger.

She knew for certain that her own needs had increased tenfold. If she felt ravenous for him before, she found herself even more starved for him. Just yesterday alone she'd pulled Aemond into several partially secluded alcoves, obscure archways in the depths of the gardens, Gods she'd even managed to pounce on him in-between scheduled hearings. All solely to satisfy her ever growing needs, her body ached for satisfaction during the days, and she knew her dragon was the only one who could deliver such pleasure to her.

And he did, happily so.

It never took anything more than a look, a curve of her lips, something in her eyes must've told him what she needed. And he was always ready to oblige her.

This morning had been no different.

It was pouring outside, harsh and windy, the droplets battering against the windows of their chambers. The greyish light of the early dawn had already begun to bleed into their rooms, faintly illuminating the surfaces, creating a slightly gloomy if not still cozy, hazy ambiance.

Soft as she could, Rhaena tried to turn herself around without jolting her husband awake.

Yes, she craved his love and attention at this very moment, but she still had her sense about her. She wanted to wake him gradually, she knew he was a very light sleeper, and the slightest touch could and most likely would wake him. But whenever she could, she still liked to see him in the mornings. Aemond never looked as blissful as he did when he was fast asleep. He'd say he was at his most vulnerable whenever he wasn't wearing his sapphire, but Rhaena would say he seemed far more vulnerable when he was relaxed and resting.

Slowly, she tried …

"Mmm...are you trying to escape me, zaldrītsos ," little dragon , his voice rasped in a low sleepy grumble as his hold around her tightened.

Her dragon was clearly an incredibly light sleeper, she'd barely nudged him and he'd awoken, she would've never succeeded in turning over completely to face him.

Smiling softly, Rhaena tried to glance back at him, but he was only snuggling himself closer to her, breathing lightly her voice lilted, "of course not, my love. I was only going to turn over," her own voice was still a tad bit groggier than she'd thought it'd be.

"What for," Aemond hummed as his lips softly trailed a heated path along her neck, his hands caressing her stomach lovingly so. Slipping up to tenderly hold and squeeze her swelling breasts, they were slightly tender but Rhaena couldn't deny the sensation his hands gave her. She was also quite sure she could feel the great length of his extremely hard cock pressing against her plush bottom, making it rather obvious what he was after this morning.

Thank the Gods, for she was desperate for it as well.

Reaching her hand back behind herself, she carded her fingers through his silky hair, closing her eyes as she melted into his affectionate hold, "because...you look so peaceful when you're asleep, and I just wished to see your face," truly his face looked beautiful and rather adorable when he was asleep, but she'd never be able to tell him that so boldly…at least not at this moment. So she simply bit back a smile, noticing how he stilled against her for only a moment.

She'd caught him off guard yet again...small moments Rhaena had found she truly relished.

Though it did not last long, soon enough he was growling against her, his large hands sliding down from her breasts over her curves and down to her hips. Causing soft mewls to fall from her lips as he began to lightly grind his hips against her bottom, a wordless prodding question, his body already clearly begging for her to give into him.

Rhaena wouldn't bother fighting against it; she wanted what he was offering. Though she supposed sometimes she liked to let him think it was his idea initially.

Each warm kiss he peppered along her neck then shoulder just made her body shiver with the burning desire for him to enter her.

"Mmmm Aemond, surely you don't plan to tease me so early," the words had slipped in a half moan half groan, her hand slipping from his hair and moving along his jaw. She felt the moment his clenching jaw softened at her touch, how he slipped a kiss to the palm of her hand as he pulled his hips back enough to guide his tip towards her entrance.

Just like she wanted.

Thankfully no begging was needed.

Though Rhaena could wager Aemond wouldn't possess any such willpower when he'd only just awoken as she had. His primal urge would win, and thank the Gods because her own primal urges wanted him desperately.

As the cool morning light bathed their room, he slowly thrusted into her from behind, deep and perfectly placed. Rhaena's teeth were still biting into her lower lip when the sweet sensation of his thick cock pulsed within her, coaxing a breathy moan to force its way from her throat.

Gods, he felt so good, all thick and lengthy, stretching her already soaked cunt so perfectly.

There might have been words she wanted to say but her mind was melting too much by the second.

Paired with the searing feeling of his teeth grazing and biting her neck, he licked and kissed the areas making semi-permanent marks for his possessive enjoyment. And she loved every second of it, but the calming pace at which he thrusted into her was driving her mad. Her legs were squirming and itching to kick as her hips rocked in sync with his.

All the while she only felt Aemond's lips spread into a knowing smirk against her neck, "so impatient, my sweet little wife," he chuckled against her skin. As one of his hands slipped under neck, reaching around her, sliding between her breasts and clutching one of them. Holding her flush against him as his other hand slid up and over her hip, then down between her thighs and towards her wet center.

She knew what he was going to do before he did it, the moment his index and middle finger began rubbing crucial circles against her clit was the moment Rhaena's entire body began to hum and tingle. She was sobbing sweet moans every time his thrusts moved in sync with the friction his fingers caused her. Rhaena's hands were desperate to find some sort of purchase, one hand gripping onto his elbow as the other slid behind her and gripped onto his hip, her nails biting into his skin making him groan lowly right by her ear.

"Dōna byka ābrazȳrys...ōregon ñuha riña isse aōha iemny," sweet little wife...carrying my child in your belly , his warm breath trailed along her skin, his voice sounded like smooth silk, "gūrogon ñuha orvorta sīr sȳrī...rual nyke naejot leghagon ao...qogralbar aōha ȳrda byka orvorta...mirre ñuhon," taking my cock so well...allowing me to fill you...fuck your tight little cunt...all mine.

It wouldn't have mattered what language he said those words in, but the added fact that he'd chosen High Valyrian made her body feel like it was prime to blow, spontaneous combustion felt imminent. Rhaena couldn't manage anything beyond moaning his name, each lick of his cock only made her hips rock faster, her slurring moans begged him to fuck her with more intensity.

And thank the Gods he did.

Rhaena was trapped in a haze, early morning couplings always felt like the sweetest of dreams. As if she was in a daze yet somehow still wide awake, her mind was clouded with the overwhelming level of immense pleasure she was experiencing but even still her dragon's blood felt like it was calling to his. The ravenous beast that only he could unleash within her. His words only spurred her on, his praise always made her feel so complete, so wanted.

Within the momentum, Aemond had managed to prop himself up on his elbow, leaving enough room for Rhaena to back just enough to see him leaning over her. Just as she always thought, he always looked like absolute perfection in the mornings. A glistening Valyrian God of Old, his long pale hair seemed to shimmer even more in the muted grey light of this morning. His indigo eye was a vibrant thing of beauty, while seeing his vacant socket gave her body an added surge of heat. Such sculpted cheekbones and full inviting lips…it was instinctual, her need to reach for his chin, to pull his lips down to meet her own. Her need to taste him most fervently, to breathe him in, to feel him with all of her senses as he continued to ram his cock into her.

When that all encompassing spark finally ran through her, her pleasure bursting over the horizon nearly in time with his. Rhaena felt herself slumping back, collapsing back against their bed in a sea of bliss of burning satisfaction. All the while, Aemond lowered himself back down, scooping her back up into his arms as he sweetly whispered her name, his teeth grazing her neck as his fingers circled her sensitive little bud in time with her moans. He rode her orgasm just as his came through for him, spilling his heated seed comfortably into her.

He'd moaned her name with such a divine rasping baritone.

"Mmmm, I think this is proving to be a very good morning already," Rhaena sighed contentedly, quivering slightly as she felt Aemond's cock still twitch within her. She'd since let her hand reach back into his hair, caressing the unruly strands away from face as his arms tightened around her once more.

With a low hum, he nodded against her neck, whispering back, "a perfect morning," allowing her body to turn just slightly towards him, while he stayed within her. Enough for her to turn her head just enough to reach his lips once again, capturing them completely, roving her tongue possessively over his.

She'd wanted to taste him from the moment she'd woken herself this morning, and now she was truly soaking it in, and it made her feel whole again.

Pulling back just a bit, Rhaena let her lips brush along his, smiling as his lips chased hers, "sadly, we can't lay here all morning-"

He'd caught her lips before she could finish her sentence, his hand sliding between her legs once again, toying with her clit just enough to draw soft moans. He'd swallowed the sounds happily, smirking against her lips, "and why can't we. We, Lord over this castle now, I don't think anyone would dare interrupt us, especially not a Princely Lord spending time with his pregnant Princess of a wife. I'm in no mood to move now and I don't want you to move from this spot either."

The sentiment was endearing, but if Rhaena knew Dragonstone and she did, there was far too much to do, far too many tasks to leave unattended. Surely there were several petitions to hear from, hearings to sit through, ceremonies to bless, livestock to bless and or reimburse…Sheepstealer was always causing some sort of trouble.

As far as she knew it, her husband shouldn't have been too bogged down with duties today.

But she'd have to double check with their Wardeness, Aelaera, as she kept a daily schedule, account, and management of their, well more specifically Rhaena's, full activities and duties. In the case of Aemond, Maester Varion, the current Head Maester of Dragonstone as Maester Gerardys had been appointed to King's Landing to serve the crown truly. In his stead here, Maester Varion was just as qualified and capable, and took to his new position seamlessly. He kept his logs and accounts, scheduling efficiently of every duty Aemond was to complete daily.

Both Maester Varion and Wardeness Aelaera would usually brief Aemond and Rhaena in the mornings either before or after breakfast, and then the two would go off to do their duties.

Rhaena felt that after three moons of working together in these daily tasks that kept this castle and this island as a whole running properly…she dared to say they were doing a wonderful job. Her mother and father wrote to them constantly, mostly addressed to Rhaena, but Aemond was always mentioned heavily in those missives. And while some of the courtiers and town folk found Aemond to be a frightening Lording Prince, they did find him to be dutiful and proficient. As well as their growing adoration for Princess Rhaena herself, those parts of the missives never truly surprised her, as she'd only continued to do what she'd always done.

Treat people kindly and listen intently to their issues no matter how large or small they may seem.

And it seemed the people appreciated that.

But for the moment, Rhaena wasn't exactly against allowing her husband to lavish her in their bed this morning. The attention felt lovely, and so she'd happily soak it all in.

The grey morning light made telling the specific time of morning rather indiscernible, it was something about the way the hard island rain rattled against the glass of the windows and stone walls of the castle. The sound was both calming and numbing, it only made one wish to waste the day away even more.

"All of this love and attention so early in the morning, is it solely for me or it is because of the babe in my belly," Rhaena teased as his lips trailed heat along her jaw, kissing her favoured spots purposely as he slowly pulled his cock from her. Allowing her to lay flat on her back as he lay on his side, leaning over her just slightly.

Aemond's deep Indigo eye cut through her so hypnotically, she might have nearly missed the way his jaw had tightened at her jest, "ñuha prūmia," my heart , his low voice stilled her jesting mood almost instantly. As his hand warmly caressed the growing curve of her belly, slowing and holding her possessively there, "my love and attention is made for both of you."

Rhaena felt her throat run dry for just a moment, swallowing thickly as she let the incredibly sultry tone in his voice float through her. It shouldn't have been this easy for her to find herself so aroused all over again.

Slowly she slipped hand up to caress his scarred cheek, gazing comfortably into his vacant socket, as his sapphire was left on her bedside table. She sighed a sweet contented smile, her thumb tracing his scar with fine familiarity before she allowed her fingers to dip through his incredibly soft hair in her own possessive gesture.

God's, mornings like these…Rhaena was certain life had never felt so perfect.

Well…aside from the babe inside of her pushing down on her bladder, making her desperately need to relieve herself suddenly.

Thankfully it seemed he could tell from the shifting blissful look on her face that now sunk into pure discomfort, he removed his hand from her stomach and instead cupped her cheek. He drew her in, softly pressing his lips to her forehead, "I see our child has decided to spoil our mood once again," she could hear the smile in his tone.

"Oh, my love. I'm incredibly close to changing my term of endearment for this babe," Rhaena grimaced as she dared to rub her belly gently, "our little one seems intent on souring my mood whenever possible, I'm nearly certain I'm growing a little gremlin,"

She hadn't intended on pouting then, but her lips had done the gesture all on their own.

Making Aemond chuckle in earnest as he began to pull himself from her. She certainly mourned the loss of his heat, but she casually enjoyed the sight of her bare naked, toned dragon walking across their chambers. Happily watching as the muscles on his back stretched and flowed as he reached for a pair of breeches and the sleek way he bent over to pull them on.

What a lovely thing it was to know that this being was all hers.

And hers alone.

Soon enough he made his way back to her, taking her hands and arms, as he gently helped her out of bed. As she stood against him, her hands slid from his hands, to his forearms, to his biceps, to finally landing sturdy on his shoulders.

But GOD'S how she needed the toilets.

She'd squeezed her eyes shut by then, wincing and whining as the pressure within her pressed harder against her bladder.

Thank the Flames, her loving husband was here to help her waddle over, allowing her to lean all of her weight against him as he guided her to their bathing ensuite of their chambers. The moment she sat upon the marble stoned toilet fixture, Rhaena was sure there was no sweeter release than loosening the pent up pressure from her bladder.

All the all while, Aemond only leaned against the door frame, watching her fondly with a knowing smile.

Once she no longer felt as if she were primed to explode, Rhaena rolled her eyes and smiled back, "what is it now, my dragon?"

"Oh nothing," he smirked, crossing his arms casually, "I only wonder if there will be any clues or signs as to whether our little gremlin is a boy or girl."

Rhaena couldn't help but giggle at the sound of him using the humorous term she'd referred to their babe as just moments ago.

"Boy or girl I couldn't be certain, but either way I'm beginning to think they have far too much of you in them already," she smiled, wiping herself clean with a soft clean cloth. She then pulled herself to her feet, washing her hands in the basin before Aemond helped her into one of her crimson red silk robes.

Somewhere in-between he'd managed to steal a soft beaming kiss from her, grinning against her lips, "well surely you should have expected that, sweet girl."

Rhaena wanted to bat him away, but her heart was swelling far too happily to let her complete the motion with any real force. Instead she'd end up looping her arms around his neck, leaning her forehead warmly against his. Breathing him in for a just moment before she sighed, "hmm, I suppose so. I also suppose you should summon my chambermaids and ladies maids, we do have to officially start the day."

"If we must," he smirked, guiding her back to sit on the edge of her bed.

Reluctantly, yes, it was indeed time to start the day.

☾

Rhaena's days usually started the same way, similar to most, but there were variations.

She supposed it usually depended on how Aemond's morning started. For the most part, she could count on her husband's tendency to rise early in the morning. He seemed to always rise with the sun, something Rhaena could never really be counted on to do on purpose. On days like those, he'd awaken early, slip from their bed and head down to the training yard. Intensively training his body, until his muscles burned from the strain, he was always aiming to improve his skills and his techniques.

He'd explained it to her before.

And while Rhaena could say that she somewhat understood what he'd meant...she did wonder why he felt it so necessary to work his body so brutally. They had their own guards now, ones they specifically chose themselves. They weren't Gold Cloaks or former King's guards or rejected Queen's guards.

As was historically customary, Rhaena and Aemond had chosen several knights from the Hell's Legion themselves. The age-old military post that had been established by Aegon the Conqueror and his conquering sister wives Rhaenys and Visenya. To weaponize the land of Hell's Edge, inhabitable as their ancestors once thought it to be, it was the conquering Queen Visenya who saw its potential and fortified it into its full potential. Creating an army full of Valyrian soldiers who were subservient to the crown and to the true blood of the dragon, house Targaryen.

Every initiate had to have a recognizable amount of Valryian blood within them to be welcomed, bastards and dragonseeds were all welcome to join this noble outpost, even certain Targaryen Princes of the past had chosen the noble right to serve this ancestral post.

Every six months dozens of initiates were welcome, and for three months those initiates would be trained brutally. Extensively pushing their bodies to limit, testing their resolve, their loyalties, their integrity. Quests and tests of all varieties were tasked upon these initiates, any who died during these tests were deemed to not have been worthy to begin with...and any who survived only had one final test to pass to truly be welcomed into the fold.

The dragon test.

The final initiates would be brought to the castle to be introduced to the ruling Prince of Dragonstone. There they would all stand before Prince's bonded mount, upon the sacred Dragon Mound. This was deemed a blessed ceremony of sorts, to stand before a Dragon Prince and his beast, there to be deemed worthy of entry or to be destroyed. The Prince would ask one thing of his dragon, to determine who was truly the blood of Old Valyria. If the dragon deemed them worthy, deemed their Valyrian blood to be enough, then the knight would survive...if not...the Prince would not stand in the way of allowing his mount to burn and devour the unworthy initiate.

Hell's Edge could only accept the best of the best. For the Knights who passed this final test would be knighted truly by the Prince of Dragonstone, finally welcomed to the Legion. Those knights would then be given the rights to learn age-old techniques and magics, alchemy and healing. They'd be taught by surviving Maesters and scholars, within the posting, their libraries full of tomes and archives on all manner of specialized practices in those fields. With hidden secrets and relics to defeat any creature, beast or otherwise

In all honesty it was fair to say a lot of what Rhaena had known of that place had been read in texts and scrolls, if not told to her and explained to her by her father. Daemon was a relic of Old Valyria himself in a sense, and it was not unsurprising to raise a question of any sort on the topic to her father, for he usually had the answer and knowledge on it.

What she knew of the Legion, was what mattered most.

They were ruthless and their loyalty could not and would not stray.

When a King or Queen of old declared war, they called upon that army, they would unleash the “Hell's Legion” as they themselves rode upon their dragons and reigned fire down upon their enemies.

It was always the custom for both the ruling King and Queen to appoint their King's Guards from this legion. Rhaena’s uncle Viserys had not done so...and unfortunately he somewhat paid the price for hiring Knights who were not succinctly loyal to him and his family above all else.

Rhaenyra had not made this mistake. Yes she kept Rhaena’s kepa's Gold Cloaks close, but she'd made sure to appoint her chosen Queen's Guards from the Hell's Legion as was always the custom to.

Just as Rhaena and Aemond had here.

A knight of the Hell's Legion was easy to spot, while not all of them carried the tell-tale Valryian pale hair or specifically varying purple or unnaturally bright blue eyes...it was always a variation of these features that graced these knights. Their armour was solid black, dragon-esque in its design, with engravings and ridges made and designed for close-range combat should a soldier ever lose their sword or weapon. They wore either solid black capes, for Dragonstone, or black capes that bled into deep Targaryen red at the tips as members of the Queen's Guard.

Their center emblem is the three headed Targaryen Dragon, but the whole chest plate and armour is welded and molded to look like the chest ridges of a dragon.

While they all wielded dark blades, made from the volcanic rock of the Dragon Mount, and forged with the heat of the volcano. Very powerful and durably made steel, it was not quite Valyrian steel, for they are not forged with dragons' fire...but they were still superior to the average steel made elsewhere.

They rode to war on armoured black horses, like a true legion from the depths of hell themselves.

Was it any wonder they were one of, if not, the most feared army of all probably next to the truly formidable Dothraki hordes.

Suffice to say, here in the Dragonstone castle, they had nearly fifty knights posted to serve and protect the grounds. With six personal Prince and Princess Guards who guarded Aemond and Rhaena...well mostly Rhaena, especially now in her pregnant state.

If it was up to Aemond he wouldn't have any of the six personal knights guard him at all, initially he wanted all six just to guard Rhaena...a matter on which she was quite adamant that her husband was being a touch too over protective. She needed guarding, sure...she did not, however, need all of their guards to guard her though.

She tried to reason that he should at least keep two with him throughout the days, especially when they were apart.

He'd agreed in the beginning...and then he tried to narrow that number down to one. Though, most days, Rhaena managed to convince two to stay by side, leaving four guards to walk the grounds behind her during her daily tasks.

The only time Aemond was everkeen to keep two knights with him was when he wished to train. He'd purposely face off against and train with either one, if not, more often now, two at once. If he was feeling bold he'd enlist a third or fourth knight to train with him.

He never wanted them to hold back against him, he wanted their best, and if they bested him, that only meant that he'd spend the next day training even harder...and harder.

The amount of mornings in which her husband would return to their chambers, return to her, all battered and bruised. It ached her greatly, but he always seemed the better for it. Energized and excitable, there was usually an equal chance that he'd most likely return to bed to take her eagerly or more calmly he'd summon a bath for them and bathe with her.

In their bathing chambers here as the ruling Lords of this castle, their large tub was a stationary one, white and gold made of smoothed marble stones.

Those baths were always Rhaena's favourite, leaning back against her dragon, allowing him to gently care for her. As, ever since her belly had started to show, he'd become increasingly more and more protective of her. Wanting to have her to himself as much as he possibly could, he barely wanted Rhaena's chosen chambermaids to attend to her some days. Bathing with her, so that he could hold her himself, he'd even learned of the method in which she used to wash and care for her curls just so he could do that for her as well. And Rhaena could admit, being lavished with such care by one's husband held a far sweeter flavour to her mornings then the usual methodical approach of one's chambermaids.

But unfortunately, this wasn't that sort of morning. Aemond had opted to stay abed with her this morning, waking to her nice and slowly. That choice alone meant he'd have to alter his schedule to fit his training in afterwards, meaning...this would have to be one of those mornings where she bathed alone.

It wasn't all bad, Rhaena had liked her chambermaids. In fact she liked the vast majority of her staff here, she'd been given such free range, to interview and appoint her own inner circle. From her chambermaids to her ladies maids, and even her four new companions, four specifically chosen Ladies-in-waiting.

But everyday started with her chambermaids, three girls, Kiera, Allyria and Cass, who were from common if not impoverished backgrounds who were tasked with preparing Rhaena in her bathing chambers.

Kiera, who was from the free city of Braavos, had arrived with her elder sister Myria for positions in a royal household. Escaping the lowly choices available to them there, they were hoping Westeros had more to offer them...and they were right. Kiera would be chosen as a chambermaid, as she already had experience in the area, while Myria had been positioned as a ladies maid, where her skills were suited better.

They both had rich brown sepia-toned skin, dark brown eyes, and thick dark chocolatey brown curls that formed a more fro-like shape, like some of Rhaena's more Velaryon featured cousins. They looked quite alike, but Myria's face was indeed slightly slimmer, her cheekbones slightly more pronounced as well as the fact that she wore more piercings than her sister. A fashion the Free Cities seemed to appreciate. One above her left eyebrow, and several teal studs upon her ears. Kiera for her part, had slightly darker hair, and her face held a softer, rounder appearance.

Allyria, was a bastard-born girl from the Riverlands. With pale peach-toned ivory skin, and soft facial features. Wavy reddish pale brown hair and pale blue eyes. Her mother had operated out of a whorehouse in Riverrun, and by all likelihood, she was probably a bastard child of either house Tully or house Greyjoy, but she could prove neither. And so, the majority of her life she'd spent on her back at the mercy of men, good or cruel, so long as they had good coin to pay her...to pay the whorehouse at large. It wasn't a life she thrived in, so she made her escape...heard of the crowning of Princess Rhaena of Dragonstone...and made it her mission to secure a position. As she had succeeded in doing.

Finally, Cass, a lowborn daughter of the Vale. She had warm ivory skin, which contrasted greatly with her pin-straight dark brown, nearly black hair. Cut short to her neck, with thin veiled bangs, her face held sharper features. A pointed jaw and chin, but her cheeks and eyes were soft. Greyish hazel eyes that spoke of wisdom beyond her years. She was incredibly intelligent and pragmatic, and in truth Rhaena alternated her position with other ladies maids quite often, as Cass was great company, truly. She was well read, and quite knowledgeable on most things. If anything, Rhaena had her as her chambermaid solely to start her day with good conversation most of the time.

As Rhaena soaked herself in the steaming hot water of her bath, all three girls entered her bathing chamber, announcing themselves duly before entering. They curtsied and bowed before Rhaena, before they took their positions, Cass knelt to Rhaena's right, Allyria to her left, while Kiera knelt behind her. Cass and Allyria would scrub and bathe Rhaena while Kiera washed and cared for Rhaena's hair.

It was a team effort, befitting the station of a ruling Princess.

But Rhaena could admit that some days it felt like far too much pampering.

Some days she'd dismiss the girls just to have the freedom of bathing herself. But it wasn't something she did often, she knew these girls were only doing their job, and if she dismissed them too often, it would make it seem as if their jobs were not needed...and they'd be let go. Which was not an outcome Rhaena wished to cause.

Besides that, as the moons rolled on, Rhaena's pregnant body was working against her. The aches and soreness, along with the added weight the babe gave her...and had her put on, it wasn't as easy to lift herself in and out of the tub anymore. She already spent her days waddling from place to place, she was beginning to realize she'd have to accept a great deal of the help offered to her.

"Tell me, Cass," Rhaena spoke casually, leaning back as the nimble fingers of Kiera worked their way along Rhaena's scalp and through her long silvery-white curls, "it seems today we shall have a great deal of stormy weather, do you still believe the same amount dignitaries shall come?"

Yesterday, Rhaena's Wardeness, Aelaera, made mention that there was a great possibility that Prince of Volantis might make the journey to Dragonstone. He had no interest in joining the realm of Westeros as a whole, but it seems his wife had recently birthed him a son, and he was looking to secure a future Valyrian bride for his child.

As Baela had birthed a son herself, the Volantis' Prince's hopes were dashed to marry into the Targaryen family.

That was...until Rhaena's own pregnancy was announced to the realm.

As the moons had passed, they'd received many a letter of possible marriage pacts for their child...even though none of these Lords knew the sex of their child just yet. No one did, the babe wouldn't be born for another 2 or 3 moons.

Aemond had become quite irritated with the letters, he cared very little for these offers, both because their child had yet to enter this world yet...and more than likely, he dismissed most of these offers because they were not Valyrian offers.

If Rhaena knew her Valyrian purist husband well, and she did, she knew he'd want their children to marry Valyrian. Which unless he intended to marry all of their children to either Volantis, or the Celtigars or the Rogares...he'd have to square up to the fact that their children might marry some of their cousins.

Either Jace or Luke's children to be, a fact that overjoyed Rhaena, and made it entirely comical whenever she mentioned it to Aemond. He still grimaced at the acceptance of that fact.

"Well, my Princess, I've yet to see Aelaera this morn, so I could not be certain," Cass began, her slightly scratchy voice flowed softly, "but I'd assume the Prince of Volantis would not miss a chance to greet and dine with both you and Prince Aemond. Any royal family or Lording House would wish to create a marriage pact with House Targaryen, or course."

Of course.

Cass did spend a great deal of time with Aelaera, almost as if to be a Wardeness in training . Sadly, Cass held no Valryian blood, so she could not hold such a position here, even if Rhaena's mother was implored by Rhaena to make it so.

Tradition ruled against it.

But, that didn't mean that Cass couldn't work alongside with Aelaera.

It posed a great question for later.

She'd broach the topic with Cass on her own, promote the girl to a newly created assistant role for Aelaera to divvy her lesser duties for Cass to handle.

And then Rhaena would simply fill this chambermaid position with another.

Yes, perfect.

"Your Grace," Allyria's kind voice broke through Rhaena's train of thought, "the Harvest Festival is take place in two days time..."

"Oh yes!" Rhaena smiled brightly, her body warming at the thought of all there was to do and prepare. But as Rhaena glanced over at her docile maid, she realized the look on the girl's face was far more sullen than she expected, prompting her to ask, "oh...is there something the matter with the Harvest Festival?"

"I just...all staff are meant to accompany you that day, or so I've heard...but I'm not very fond of blood...or the sacrifices..." Allyria stumbled her way through her explanation, squinting her eyes and flinching as if she expected to be berated or hit.

It was something Rhaena had noticed before, a reflex the girl must've picked up from a previously abusive position she must've held in another Lord's home or so.

With a soft sigh, Rhaena gently took Allyria's hand and smiled, "there is no worry, Allyria. Contrary to how it may be in other households, you needn't accompany me throughout the entire day. The ceremony at the Temple of Elaena, is only attended by the royal family. Aemond and I shall go there by carriage and meet with the Priestesses there ourselves to bless the harvest. You shall not have to witness any sacrifices."

The Temple of Elaena was an age-old sacred temple that lay in the old farming town , Tegun Skrykos , which translated to 'Land Of Shrykos' or 'Shrykos' Land' , both translations had always been accepted. This town is located on the western side of the island, in the lower regions, where due to years of volcanic shakes and previous eruptions, the land is slightly separated there.

"Thank you, your Grace," Allyria breathed happily, accepting Rhaena's gentle hold.

"What if I wished to attend," Kiera grinned, breaking the tensions of the room, "I should like to see a true Valyrian ceremony and sacrifice from up close. I've read about them before."

Rhaena smirked at the comment, jokingly batting her hand at her, "shush Kiera, you cannot be so bloodthirsty this early in the morn,"

Once her bathing was complete, Rhaena was assisted out of the tub and patted dry with the softest of cotton wraps. Afterwards, she'd have Kiera add the finishing touches to her hair. Lathering in, massaging into the roots of her hair, slicked down the tips, was a white thickening mousse like cream popularly used by Pentoshi women with curls like Rhaena's own. Its rich syrupy sweet scent was one Rhaena was incredibly fond of, as well, she enjoyed just how much the sweet scent drove Aemond mad. Like a pheromone that attracted a bee to honey, on the days Rhaena washed her hair, it was usually quite hard to keep Aemond at bay.

The mousse would be rinsed, and then a golden coloured moistening oil would be dripped into her roots. Kiera would skillfully massage and scrunch Rhaena's curls to hold the oil thoroughly. Once the process was completed, and her hair had dried, her silvery-white curls would be full and defined, beautiful, silky and bouncy ringlets. Ready to be styled up by one of her Ladiesmaids.

While all of that was happening, Allyria would be tasked with moisturizing Rhaena's body, with a thick cocoa based butter-like creme that left Rhaena's skin smooth and gleaming.

It was around this time that Rhaena would have liked to have her Wardeness summoned to her, knowing that by the time both girls had finished with Rhaena's hair and her skin, she'd be ready for her Ladiesmaids to dress and style her. And in that state of being partially dressed, it was the perfect time for Aelaera to inform Rhaena of her tasks for the day.

So Rhaena sent Cass to retrieve Aelaera for her, and just as she planned, by the time they returned, Rhaena had already donned her undergarments as she stood in her bed chambers with her Ladiesmaids. Myria, Layna and Samantha.

Layna, a pretty girl who sadly seemed to have a very similar past and upbringing as Allyria had. A former whore, who did as she had to, not as she wished to. A past Rhaena cared not to hold against any woman. Her skin held a similarly pale peach-tone to Allyria's, but her features had a far more Dornish...if not Velaryon quality to them. With shapely lips and a slightly flatter bridged nose. Her hair was pale brown, borderline blonde, with thick long bouncy curls and mischievous green eyes. She was a comical girl, and whatever her experiences were... she'd seemed to take them in stride. Never looking back, only looking forward.

Samantha or Sam as she prefers to be called, was a kindly girl who actually used to work in the capital as a ladies maid. She used to serve Helaena, and by proxy had a slightly frisky consensual relationship with Aegon for a couple of years. It wasn't a matter or an issue, Helaena and Aegon may remain married on the face of things, but the whole family knows that they don't treat their private lives as such. Aegon has his mistresses, a fact Helaena has given full consent to, while Helaena keeps to her own private vices. Sam only wished to leave because as her relationship with Aegon came to mutual end, she wished to separate herself from him...in a perfect opportunity, Helaena suggested Rhaena take her on. As Sam was both skilled and experienced in this line of work.

She had long straight raven black hair, pale porcelain skin and misty hazel eyes. Plump cheeks and plush lips, she claimed to be from the Stormlands, but there was something about her facial features that at least spoke to some sort of Free Cities' mixture.

Like a swap of a shift, Allyria and Kiera tended to cleaning the bathing chamber, emptying the used bath water, cleaning the tub and putting away the various utensils. All while Cass tended to another errand Rhaena sent her on.

But now that Aelaera was here, Rhaena prepared herself to hear of her activities for the day.

Aelaera was an older woman, older than Rhaena's mother Rhaenyra, but most likely a bit younger than grandmother Rhaenys. Aelaera on the whole actually reminded Rhaena of her Lady grandmother a great deal, perhaps that is why she felt so comfortable with the woman. She held the same sort of stoic dutiful demeanor, with very Valyrian features, pale ivory skin and pale blondish-white hair. She held bright Valyrian blue eyes, and as Rhaena knew it she was most likely a lower born member of the Celtigar house. She'd fostered here with Dragonstone Maesters for the majority of her life however, so she was beyond skilled and experienced for this position...hence why Rhaenyra had appointed her.

As Rhaena chose the pale lavender silk gown she wished to wear, Sam and Layna began to loosely work Rhaena into her underskirt, then her corset, tied lightly so as not to constrict the babe or cause discomfort. Myria tended to Rhaena's hair, as Rhaena had given her maid free reign on the styling she wished to do. She watched as her maid skillfully wrapped and beautifully piled her curls atop her head in a graceful style. Leaving tendrils of curls down to frame her face, braiding the ones by her ears in a specifically Valyrian style of braid.

"My Princess," Aelaera greeted Rhaena properly, standing off by her right, keeping perfect contact, "on the list for this morn, you have decorations and menu items to approve of for the Harvest feast. Suggestions and ideas have already been listed down for you, your final say and or direct changes are needed to be finalized for today. There is a due rest break for you, then you have petitions and disputes from Dracaena and Tegun Skrykos. Dracaena has two port Labour law disputes to settle, while Tegun Skrykos has a neighborly disagreement settlement and Sheepstealer has once again devoured the livestock of another farmer…"

At first, Rhaena was nodding and humming along, keeping a mental note of each activity and task.

But then the petitions and disputes portion began and Rhaena had begun to notice a pattern that had befallen her yet again. It happened yesterday...and the day before that...and the day before that...

"Wardeness," Rhaena cut Aelaera off just as she began mentioning the late afternoon portion of blessing new born babes, "where are my hearings? For the past...week now, I haven't had a single hearing to attend to. Am I not meant to attend them with my husband? The Prince and Princess are meant to both preside over the hearings, for true impartiality."

She said impartiality , but what she really meant was she knew she needed to be present so that her husband wouldn't simply get annoyed with a man's tone of voice and decide he was guilty because of it. Rhaena's goal was always to keep her husband's murderous rage at bay, but if she wasn't there to do that...who would?

When Aelaera didn't answer in her usual timely manner, Rhaena found herself glancing over at the older woman. A slightly worried emotion flashed over her face before it returned to its usual steel-like resonance.

This was not inspiring confidence.

"Aelaera," Rhaena prodded more directly, "what is it? What is going on? This isn't just a coincidence is it,"

"No, Princess, it is not," Aelaera sighed, her eyes watching carefully as the Ladiesmaids finished lacing Rhaena into her gown. Applying the final touches, Rhaena's amethyst earrings, her Valyrian steel sapphire and amethyst necklace, as well as her varying sapphire and moonstone rings.

Rhaena could see this was a topic Aelaera wished to broach with privacy, true privacy .

Once Rhaena was certain she was presentable and ready, she dismissed her maids and gave her full attention to her Wardeness.

"Princess, your...Prince Aemond doesn't seem to want you to attend any serious hearings in your current... condition ," Aelaera's surprisingly apprehensive tone told Rhaena that Aemond probably told this to her personally himself. Accompanied with a very serious death threat, if she knew her dragon well.

With a heavy sigh, Rhaena worked to suppress her growing annoyance at the situation.

He was doing it again.

"What's brought this on? My listening and sitting through hearings is of no danger to the babe," Rhaena replied, stepping off her cushioned fitting platform, "I know he means well, but this is surely an unnecessary overstep."

Aelaera's face gave nothing away, as she eyed Rhaena, "Princess, I would not blame him entirely. Maesters are incredibly over zealous at the worst of times. He's most likely been advised that any stressful activity or situation could harm your babe, and he's taken that to the literal extreme."

Rhaena huffed at that, for even if Aemond had been instructed as such, he'd taken this advice to the extreme now. If, according to him, she was no longer able to handle hearings, soon enough he'd take petitions off of her plate as well. He already ensured her guards keep an even closer watch over, had insisted she minimize her steps around the castle, let maids fetch and do more for her...the other night he was incredibly close to suggesting one of her maids or guards should double as her official taste tester .

It was becoming a lot.

And yes, she loved him for caring as much as he clearly did.

But she did not need this much pampering.

No, she'd settle this now.

And she would succeed with this, she wouldn't cow to his sultry voice or affectionate touches, she could get over his intense levelled gazes. She'd push through the overall inticing nature of her husband and get him to yield to her wants.

She wanted her duties back.

She did not need him to handle them for her.

She could do this.

"Aelaera, my husband, where is he," Rhaena started, making her way towards her bed chamber doors. She knew where Aemond most likely was, more likely than not, he was still training, but it didn't hurt to be certain.

Her Wardeness was quick to follow, "in the training yard, Princess. But I would advise against this, surely the Prince only has the best intentions for why-"

"I mean no disrespect, Aelaera, but I care not for advice on this matter," Rhaena smoothly replied as she opened her main chamber doors. Making her way down the corridor, her four knights immediately moved after she did. She waited a minute, for their usual formation to take hold. Two knights walked five paces ahead of her while two knights walked five paces behind her.

Aelaera had hurried to keep herself in pace with Rhaena, for surely this was the fastest she'd moved since her belly had grown as large as it had.

"Princess, with the lessened steps the Prince wishes for you to have during the day," the Wardeness spoke with slight gasp of air, she certainly wasn't used to walking at this speed with Rhaena, "surely this would exceed them, to walk down to the training yard and then to have to return up the number of stairs and steps again. Shall I not just summon him to come to you?"

Rhaena was barely registering the idea, she didn't want him summoned to her, that would only prove his point. That she needed to be wrapped up and protected, catered to, when now more than ever, she wanted tasks to occupy her time.

"No," Rhaena simply replied, "Aemond responds to shows of force. I need to meet him where he is, so he might take my complaint seriously,"

Now, Rhaena could understand Aelaera's apprehension. Most Lord husbands, when they made a decision or proclamation, their Lady wives' were meant to simply obey them. To take what they were given without question, without recourse or rebuttal.

Even some Targaryen marriages could be seen with such a dynamic.

But Aelaera should also know, that while some Targaryen wives may have been content to follow their husbands word and rule without question.

Most Targaryen would not.

The blood of the dragon bit out in various ways and forms.

For as docile and sweet as Rhaena was by nature, she was not and had never been afraid to face Aemond when she needed to. Even now, as she'd been married to her wedded husband for a grand total five moons now. If she didn't agree with him, if she needed to confront him, depending on the situation she may have had her own level of apprehension.

But she'd always find a way to confront him.

To face him.

Aelaera would not make a fuss over it, once she was sure Rhaena wasn't going to take her advice anyhow, she simply walked with her. Accompanying her down to the training yard.

They passed the guards standing guard by the entrance to the Dragon's hold. Making their way into the more common areas of the castle. Where they passed by several courtiers who now resided within these castle walls as a sign for a more unified realm, building furthering relationships with the next generation of Lords and Ladies.

Rhaena would only faintly greet each noble she passed, smiling softly with nods of recognition, as she followed her guards down the main grand staircase. The main level of the castle was a lot more lively, the hustle and bustle of the many maids and servants shuffling to reach their posts to complete their own tasks. More nobles making their rounds as they strolled the halls and hoped to greet their Lording Prince or Princess.

Rhaena kept her persona as crisp as she always did, for whatever emotions she saw fit to share with her trusted Wardeness...the collective courtiers of the castle could not be privy to it.

Once they rounded their way towards the southern exit, Rhaena motioned for another maid to follow with a tall rain repellent covering to hold over Rhaena and Aelaera as they stepped outside. For while the rain had lightened, it still drizzled and spittled down from the heavens.

As they grew closer to the training yard, the sound of clashing steel and whirling sharp blades echoed out.

Every step was drawing slightly more trepidation from Rhaena, as she'd initially moved to argue with her husband on pure impulse...and as she walked passed the beautiful southern garden her father had once commissioned be up kept for her mother, one part of a vast lovely garden that covered the grounds...a garden Rhaena now took comfort it having kept nicely. She'd watched as all the green plants and previously blooming flowers slowly died due the time of year,, the ninth moon of the year, wilting stems and fallen petals and leaves, all soaked and watered with the rain.

All the while...she grew closer to the training yard.

With the dawning realization that she hadn't exactly planned ahead of time what she wished to say to her husband.

She couldn't let Aemond have the upper hand in this, so she'd just have to rely on her gut instinct yet again-

Without a word, her knights halted...and then so did the three knights her husband was training with.

The movement was so perfect and precise, but their body language must've been the give away her husband needed. As he only chuckled and twirled his sword in his hand, without even turning around to face her, it seemed he already knew.

Aemond's pale hair was tied back into a low ponytail, although it was all damp and drenched along with his back breeches, all due to the rain. He remained shirtless, his pale back completely exposing the faint scars he had along his flexing muscles.

Rhaena took this time to step past Aelaera and two guards who stood in front of her. Slowly stepping forward with her maid holding the repellent cover still overhead.

Rhaena watched as Aemond barely turned back, from the side of his face, she could already see his signature smirk forming, "mmm, skoros maghagon ao naejot nyke, byka ābrazȳrys," mmm, what brings you to me, little wife?

High Valyrian was meant to be their intimate choice for private conversations, but in moments like these, where they had Valyrian taught guards and servants present. It really served less of a point if everyone present could, for the most part, understood what they were speaking of. Surely their royal dialect of true High Valyrian would keep their guards and servants at bay, they most likely spoke and understood a lower dialect of it…but Aelaera was as good as any Maester, she would know.

Although, Rhaena supposed, it wasn't really about that.

It was about the intimacy, it was the fact that Aemond surely knew what this did to her. How hearing his low smooth voice speak their ancestral tongue so perfectly...how it made her body tingle and shiver, how her blood sang at the sound of it.

"Jaelan ñuha valzȳrys naejot ivestragon nyke skoro syt issa meddling lēda ñuha tubis," I want my husband to tell me why he is meddling with my day, Rhaena swallowed, her throat drying...there was a problem growing on the horizon. Her body was beginning to ache for something else.

Food .

She hadn't had a morsel to eat all morning, and the babe wanted nourishing...she could feel it. Her stomach was primed to growl at any moment now, so she needed to speed this conversation along.

Aemond handed his training sword to one of the Knights to put away, walking over to the slightly shedded weapons area where he snatched a clean dry cloth to wipe his face with.

His leather patch looked damp now as well...ugh... FOCUS.

Urging her maid to follow her as she moved towards Aemond, Rhaena crossed her arms overtop her belly as she eyed her husband.

His smirk grew larger, as if her clear annoyance was just harmless entertainment for him. Which, surely it was, but that was not the effect Rhaena wanted to have right now.

"Ivestragon nyke pār, skorkydoso emagon nyke gaomagon sīr," tell me then, how have I done so, he tossed the cloth to the side, crossing his own arms loosely, casually leaning back on his leg as he eyed carefully.

His eye held both great amusement with a slight tinge of concern, Rhaena could see the gears turning in his head, he was beginning to think there was something wrong with her or the babe.

"Ao-," you , Rhaena paused and decided she was in fact too annoyed and hungry to play this back and forth game with him, so she switched to the common tongue, "you took away my hearings! You've just unilaterally decided I'm no longer able to handle them? Without me? You didn't want to consult me on that decision? I noticed days ago...and I thought it was maybe a coincidence that I had something happening that day that conflicted with the times of the hearings...but no, you've specifically made that choice for me."

There, his smirk faded as he exhaled heavily from his nose.

"Rhaena, it's for the best," his tone wasn't harsh or sharp, but it was a solid low tone that spoke of a cemented decision he wouldn't budge on.

That wouldn't do.

Rhaena took several steps closer to him, a dangerously close position, for this was we're she could be most susceptible to his charm. A charm she used to be able to work against, but ever since this babe started growing within her, a simple look from him made her want to tackle him and take him almost anywhere. Caution to the wind, she'd melt, she'd keen, she'd grapple and tear into him.

No...she just needed to remain focused.

*Growl*

Oh, Gods.

Her body was once again working against her, her stomach growling something fierce now.

Which only brought Aemond's smirk back, as whatever worry he had...it seemed he now settled on the fact that the babe was likely fine, his wife was just hungry.

"Ignore my stomach," Rhaena nearly pouted, growing annoyed with herself that she couldn't find it in herself to focus at all. She wanted him and she wanted food...and she wanted a drink, she was terribly thirsty now. Her feet felt slightly achy now, fuck, maybe Aelaera had been right about the amount of steps.

But if Aelaera was right, then that would make Aemond right...and Rhaena didn't want to admit to that.

"I can handle the hearings, Aemond," Rhaena pushed through, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to will away the feelings of hunger she had, "they're not too stressful for me, I am capable,"

Oh, please little babe, I'll feed you soon enough. Can't you work with your mama for once, instead of always working against me?

"Last week, a man from Dracaena was tried for killing a shopkeeper and stealing his products," Aemond replied matter-of-factly, stepping the final few steps in front of her, with ease he slipped his hands on her waist and pulled her close, "he was sentenced to death, a fair punishment for his crimes. And you burst into tears."

Mmm...okay...yes, she had done that.

The memory of it was coming back to her.

Rolling her eyes slightly, she bit her lip, "yes...I recall that,"

"Mmm, a few days ago a farmer's hand was brought to trial for assaulting a farmer's daughter," Aemond started, and sadly she knew where this memory was going, "he was to be jailed, his bits severed from him...you cried."

Surely this wasn't a viable excuse as to why-

"Yesterday, a kitchen maid was caught trying to steal jewelry from our very rooms, and you told me to 'give her a second chance' as if she shouldn't have been jailed and fired at the very least, hands severed from her body automatically," Aemond's expression spoke of a man who felt he had no need to explain his thoughts on the matter for any longer.

This wasn't fair.

She wasn't choosing to be overly emotional about these matters, she'd handled them before.. .

"Ñuha jorrāelagon," my love , Aemond's tone had softened for her, as he drew a hand up to caress her cheek, "I'm sure it's due to the babe, but these hearings...they're making you emotional-"

"Do say that again, please, I’m very much in the mood to run you through myself right now," Rhaena squinted her eyes up at him, sadly her challenging tone only made him chuckle. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as his thumb stroked her cheek affectionately.

"I know you dislike this, but I've only removed the most stressful part of your day," his indigo eye searched hers for a nonverbal cue, an understanding that proved she understood him and agreed with him.

She did not.

Or...she didn't want to.

But it wasn't as if she could prove that she wouldn't feel emotional during the next hearing.

In the end, Rhaena did her best to stand firm...and Aemond sighed in return, "do you really wish to fight me on this now? When, instead, you could be eating breakfast."

Rhaena twisted her jaw at that, her lips folding as she pursed them.

Fuck.

He could see right through her.

With a charming grin, he simply added, "I'm sure both you and our little gremlin is in need of nourishing."

"It's not fair," Rhaena finally groaned as her stomach growled yet again.

Reluctantly so, she finally relinquished. Letting her husband tip her chin up as he stole a kiss, before he began guiding her back towards the castle. With their guards in tow behind them, she knew she'd have to brace this topic with her husband again...another time.

When she was well fed.

Maybe then her babe would let her win something.

☾

'I know you dislike this, but I've only removed the most stressful part of your day,'

The arrogance of him.

How could he?

Well... mayhaps it wasn't strictly arrogance , clearly he did care. Maybe Rhaena was strictly ignoring the obvious fact that perhaps...in this specific case...he may...be...

... correct.

Ugh .

No.

It ached her to even think it, to even relinquish this victory to him mentally, was upsetting.

But even so, she'd allowed him to escort her back to their private dining hall, where a rather delightful spread was already prepared for them. A vast variety of mostly Rhaena's favourite breakfast foods.

"Ipradagon," eat , her dragon's voice had been firm and direct, as if he knew she'd fight him on this as well...and she might have wanted to, "nyke'll sagon arlī isse iā moment," I'll return in a moment.

As he left with only one guard tailing him, Rhaena was left with the five remaining guards. Three standing guard outside of the doors, and two standing inside with her.

It would be a slightly lonely breakfast if she had to wait for Aemond to finish bathing and readying himself before he joined her. They usually had their meals together, save for midday tea-times or lunch, it wasn't uncommon for Rhaena to share those moments with her Ladies-in-waiting.

*Growl*

In this case, it wouldn't be possible for Rhaena to wait. Her stomach felt as if it was caving in on itself, her babe must've been furious with her for eating nearly an hour later than her usual timing.

So, Rhaena hoped to remedy that. Quickly filling her plate with bits and pieces of the abundance laid upon the table. Berries, and pastries, sausages and bacon, poached eggs. The greasier foods would fill her faster, and hopefully reach her babe and satisfy the little one. The pastries and the fruits slightly more for herself, but she was certain her little gremlin liked raspberries.

It came as a shock though, as Rhaena had begun scarfing down her eggs and salted meats…it had tasted bland . Not unseasoned…just…not salty enough.

She wanted more salt.

It came across as a feeling, biting into her custard tart, it tasted perfect…sweet and creamy, just like heaven.

Then she bit a piece of her bacon…and it tasted…savoury…but bland .

She wanted it saltier.

Why she couldn't say.

But it was a feeling in her gut.

So she reached across the table and practically battered her meat in salt…and then her eggs as well.

She was dangerously close to sprinkling salt over her bowl of berries when one of her guards spoke.

Ser Garin Tanner, a young, commonly handsome looking knight. With curly walnut brown hair, nearly Valryian blue eyes and a sharply angled jaw. He usually guarded Rhaena closely, he was only a couple years her senior, he reminded her fondly of Jace in some ways.

"My Princess, is the meal not to your liking? Should I have a maid send for something else?" Ser Garin questioned, his boyish tone quirked in the question, he was clearly concerned as to why his pregnant charge was pouring salt all over everything.

Honestly…Rhaena was beginning to question herself as to why just as well.

Slowly, Rhaena gulped down the salty mouthful she had in her mouth, locking eyes with her knight, "I am…no! No, all is well. Everything is…fine."

That wasn't very reassuring.

Another knight, Ser Drako Maar, who looked like the picture of Valyrian blood. With pale golden blonde curls that swooned by his neck, a playful smirk, a strong jaw and icy blue eyes. He was believed to be one of the best from Hell's Edge, hence why Aemond appointed Ser Drako to be one of Rhaena's personal guards.

"But Princess, you've added a great deal of salt to everything, surely it's not been seasoned to your liking," Ser Drako let a slow smile grow upon his lips, Rhaena knew her staff was far more comfortable to be themselves in her presence than they were in with Aemond around.

Sipping her spiced Lyseni tea, Rhaena only batted her lashes, "at ease boys, I am well. The babe craves salt, what am I to do for it."

Ser Garin's lips twitched for only a second, before he folded them over in an effort to remain neutral.

"It's not funny, Ser Garin," Rhaena nearly giggled, herself, before she pulled herself together, "shush, the both of you, I am trying to eat."

"As you wish, Princess," Ser Drako, smiled with a shallow bow. One that Ser Garin mimicked immediately before returning to his impeccably straight solid posture.

If they didn't have these modes of immature brotherly behaviour, she'd have thought them solid stone-like beings. A state they could remain in, and one Aemond always expected them to remain in.

But Rhaena liked conversing with them in a far more relaxed sense.

They were her guards, here to serve and protect her, yes.

But they were kind, respectful, dutiful men, and it was nice to treat them as such on occasion.

Soon enough, the dining hall doors were pulled in as Aemond sauntered in with purpose. Freshly groomed, dressed in his signature all black attire, his hair neatly combed as always, the silky sheen catching the grey morning light.

He made his way to the empty end seat of the table, which was of course right next to her seat. Both knights nodded towards his entrance and took his presence as their signal to step out into the hall.

Once the doors closed behind them, Aemond gazed over Rhaena, eyeing her plate as she'd managed to nearly inhale the majority of the contents.

"Emagon ao geptot mirros syt nyke," have you left anything for me, his brow quirked playfully as his lips curved up, "Īlva rūs ēdruta emagon issare merbugon," our babe must have been hungry.

Rhaena bit back a smile, trying to remind herself that she was in fact still annoyed with him, "Īlva rūs ēza issare kreni," our babe has been satisfied.

He hummed at her response, filling his own plate with salted meats and crisp fruits, "se skorkydoso iksis ñuha ābrazȳrys, iksis ziry kreni?" and how is my wife, is she satisfied?

Rhaena took another bite of her now incredibly salted eggs, the bitter tang soothing something within which cried for it. For several beats, she just let the silence hang in the air, not for dramatic effect…but solely because she wasn't sure how to word things.

Outside in the training yard…she'd managed to fumble the situation, she'd gone to him, with what she thought was the upper hand.

And yet…Aemond had managed to thwart her point with such decisive ease.

So now, she was certain that she needed to be precise…she was no longer starving, so perhaps her mind could remain focused on the task at hand.

Swallowing thickly, Rhaena ran her tongue along her lower lip, tucking a dainty braid behind her ear…as her eyes trailed up Aemond's chest, then pale neck…curving jaw and defined cheekbones. His silky hair clouded her mind yet again, she was in the mood to touch it…he hadn't braided it today. He'd done his old usual look of having it be half up and half down.

But Rhaena wanted to braid it-

For fucksake, the hearings! Focus on the hearings!

He was looking at her now, another faintly stoic concerned eyebrow raise.

"Jaelan ao naejot…Nyke jorrāelagon ao naejot…" I want you to…I need you to… ,Rhaena found her voice trailing off, she wasn't sure how she was meant to ask for this very same thing over again. How she intended to prove that she could handle the hearings without becoming overly emotional. There was heat brewing in her chest, rising with each breath she took. It was weighted, like a stone…and it made her heart hurt…made her cheeks burn.

Am I going to cry?

Now!?

Quickly, Rhaena bit her lip in an attempt to hold the emotional barrage at bay. This was such a simple question…he'd asked such a simple question. And the answer itself shouldn't have been difficult either.

"Rhaena…" his smooth voice had struck her heart, maybe it was the hardened concern on his face, the emotion was obvious and clear…and then…he slid his hand over hers.

Her fork had been trembling in her hand and she hadn't even realized.

WHAT IS HAPPENING?

The internal screaming only grew louder as her throat grew sore and her body grew cold, her lower lip had begun to tremble, and then…

Her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Did one of the guards say or do something?" Aemond's voice had hollowed out and hardened, his immediate reaction to seeing her in any sort of pain he couldn't explain, was to be on the offensive. Ready to pounce, maim, or slay anything or anyone who might have caused her pain.

But what was upsetting could not be explained so easily.

"No…no…the knights were fine, they didn't do anything," Rhaena slowly breathed, desperate to clear their names before Aemond thought to have any of them executed, "I can't explain it…"

It wasn't really about the hearings…deep down Rhaena knew it wasn't.

She was more than likely, six moons along…in another three moons this babe would be ready to enter the world. She'd have to submit to the will of the Gods, to the fates, to nature…for…her birth mother did not survive the birthing bed on her third attempt. Baela and Rhaena, herself, had been her muña’s only successful births.

How many Targaryen women failed to birth their babes and instead parished alongside them.

Maybe it wasn't that at all either.

Maybe it was just the grievances of growing a little dragon within her. How angry, annoyed…tired and achy she felt. Her mind was always a-scatter these days, her stomach always aching for more food…for odd foods.

This time last moon, she'd only wanted sweet things. And now, all she reached for was bitter and salty.

She wanted to hit something, she wanted to return to bed.

More than anything her lower regions raged for attention, attention she wasn't even sure could be satisfied like it normally was.

How was it possible that she wished to fight her husband nearly as much as she wished for him to simply push his seat back so that she could climb atop him.

A heavy sigh broke her concentration, Aemond had indeed moved from his seat, instead, opting to kneel down beside her. A gesture that drew him closer to her as he turned her seat to face him properly, making sure her direct line of sight could easily gaze down towards him. In the soft quiet of the moment, he reached up to brush away her tears with the smooth pad of his thumb, "ivestragon nyke," tell me.

Rhaena huffed, sniffling softly as she shook her head, "Nyke kostagon daor, nyke ȳdra daor know-" I can't, I don't know-

"Sylugon naejot," try to, he'd cut her off before she could flounder her sentence any further. With his hands sliding over and rubbing soothing caressing strokes along her thighs, Rhaena found her body had begun to warm again, her blood had calmed with his direct touch.

"I feel like I'm going mad," she mumbled softly, her voice trembling as she closed her eyes, "I'm upset about everything. About the hearings…and about how I only wish to eat salty things now, and I think that custard tart I just had is making me feel ill. But I love custard tarts, and now the babe no longer wants me to eat them. And I hate how tired I get even though I only spend the majority of my days sitting in throne rooms, listening to other people talk and complain. I hate Lord Celtigar's perfume, I only passed by him this morn but it was so strong and pungent it made me feel ill…and Lady Vance gave me flowers the other day that were meant to smell of honeysuckle, but this morning the colour of them bothered me for some reason and the scent just made me feel sick. Most of all…I hate how upset I'm getting over all of this, which is nothing…all of it is all so inconsequential. Normally, I'd never cry over something so ridiculous. But you're right. You were right earlier, all I do is cry now and I don't know how to stop it…"

More tears had fallen down her cheeks as she'd all but sobbed out a list of incoherent complaints.

To his credit, Aemond hadn't arisen from his position.

In fact, he actually chuckled.

Might've been more of a genuine laugh really, when Rhaena peaked her eyes open to gaze down at him. He rubbed his eye delightedly, with that sweet honest smile on his lips, the one that made his cheeks form faint dimples, that only a rare few were ever privileged enough to see.

Even so, his beautiful smile aside, Rhaena found it all confusing.

She knew pregnancy brought on a great many emotions.

But she couldn't recall it being all of this…or maybe her sister and her mothers' had just done a better job of keeping these overwhelming feelings hidden than she was currently able to.

"What is so funny?" Rhaena's voice had slightly cracked in her query, while eyeing her husband closely, hoping to catch any minute detail she might've missed earlier when she'd been sobbing with her eyes closed.

Instead, his smile stayed etched on his face as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her swelling belly, the warmth of the gesture spread throughout her as she watched him slowly rise up to his feet. Tipping her chin to look up to him, he gently wiped her tears, "it's not funny per se …but it is amusing…"

She'd glared at him just slightly.

And he chuckled as he amended his sentence, "you're not going mad, sweet girl. Helaena had moments like this as well. I'm sure Baela did too."

So he says…but for some reason while Rhaena could remember her sister being irritable…she was sure it was not this irritable.

This was surely different.

Maybe …or maybe her mind was just being selective now that she was experiencing it for herself.

"Well…either way…what am I meant to do? I can't sit and do nothing, I need to keep busy or I'll dwell on things," she pouted, leaning her head against his stomach. She knew exactly which type of things she'd begin to dwell on, and she was still far too frightened to let those fears seep into her fully.

Soon it would become unavoidable.

But until then, she'd soak in her husband's reassurance. For, Aemond hadn't hesitated to rub soothing circles along her back.

As if he was thinking deeply or just as equally relishing in their quiet moment here before he'd have to leave her for the day so that they could both complete their duties.

"I maintain that hearings would be far too stressful if not emotionally taxing on you," he sighed softly, leaning down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, "but the rest is simple enough. Sit through as much work as you wish to, and when you're tired, leave the rest to me or your Wardeness, she is capable of temporarily covering your position. If the Lord Celtigar's perfume offends you, I'll order that he change it. If all you want is salty foods, then that's what you'll have. And if next week you only wish to eat lemons or honeycombs…I will ensure that you have as many and as much as you could want for."

At that she gazed up at him properly, somehow still in awe with the extents he'd go to for her when it mattered.

Rhaena never doubted that she'd married the right man…but little moments like these certainly cemented the fact that she had, for her.

"Avy jorrāelan," I love you, Rhaena sniffled as she smiled up at him.

"Sȳz," good , Aemond smirked, leaning himself down enough to kiss her sweetly, "avy jorrāelan, ñuha zaldrīzes," I love you, my dragoness.

☾

The problem with having a lack of hearings filtered within her daily schedule...was that it made the day go by incredibly fast.

Planning for the harvest festival and the harvest feast, settling petitions and settlements. Sure, it used up the majority of her day, but by late afternoon, Rhaena had collectively managed to power through all of her duties. Now she sat lazing in the gardens, her favourite place to be in her in-between lulls of the day.

For all this free-time granted to her only gave Rhaena a great deal of time to think about the things moving and going on in her life.

With the Harvest Festival only two days away, it was customary to have the celebration in the capital, in King's Landing at the Red Keep. But it was also entirely customary for the ruling Prince of Dragonstone to host festivities on the island. For the townspeople here, of both Dracaena and Tegun Skrykos, would never make the voyage to King's Landing.

For all the towns and cities across the realm, many Lords who did not frequent the capital or Dragonstone at this time, saw fit to host their own fetes and festivals.

There was to be a grand feast on the day of, when the moon aligned with the sun in the night... creating a bloody red, orange-like glow upon the great harvest moon.

To the beliefs of the Flames, this was meant to be an incredibly powerful time of year for the Fourteen Flames. The Gods energy surged, the stars grew closer in the night, as if the Gods had filtered down onto the ground of their children...now waiting and ready to bless and bear witness.

Many towns folk and commoners who still believed in the Gods of old would make their pilgrimages to the sacred Temple of Elaena. This pilgrimage was widely inclusive, people travelled a long way to visit, pray and make sacrifices at this temple. People sailed in from Braavos, Lorath, Norvos, Qohor, Pentos, Myr, Tyrosh and Lys.

The Temple of Elaena being one of the first Valyrian temples created in Westeros after Great Valyria burned .

There was meant to be another.

The Hall of Daenys .

Supposedly it existed beneath Dragonstone, within the volcanic rock, beneath the castle. Rhaena's father had spent many years looking and searching for it, but in the ten years they'd lived here as a family...Daemon had never found it.

One day...Rhaena hoped, perhaps she and Aemond might uncover it's whereabouts, before they declare it to simply be a myth or a tale.

In either case, the Hall of Daenys would not have been a temple open to the public. Most likely it was a truly holy, sacred temple for the Targaryen family only.

While the Temple of Elaena was open to all who believed. The Gods would recognize anyone whose blood hailed from old Valyria. This was a time of year when the Gods were most accepting of prayers, it was why there must be a great sacrifice. In the days of old, a blessed individual would be free to offer themselves as a human sacrifice, to be given to the Gods along with a horrid despicable criminal.

A sacrifice willingly given and a sacrifice forcibly taken.

It was the duality of Old Valyria.

Such violence could not be justified now.

Though in the cases of horrid despicable criminals who were already sentenced to death...their deaths could be made as offerings to the Gods. Along with offering livestock.

On the day of the harvest moon, things will be different, the pilgrimages cease the day before. For on the true harvest moon, the temple shall be closed to the public, only open to the royal family. That is when Rhaena and Aemond will make their way to meet with the Fourteen Priestesses, one who serves each of the Fourteen Flames specifically. The sacrifices will be made along with a prick or a cut from both Rhaena and Aemond.

And then they would be permitted to ask the Gods for whatever they wanted.

In that time, they will bless the harvest.

And then they will both be able to ask for anything, and Rhaena was sure she knew what they'd both want most of all.

To ask for the safe and healthy birth of their babe.

Once their prayers were complete, they'd be free to return to the castle. To ride through the city of Tegun Skrykos, and as Rhaena remembered it from her childhood days. The city would be draped in red and black silks, streams of yellow and gold, with beautiful torches lit, as music claimed the air. People would run through the streets, dancing and singing, screams and laughter. The air would be magnificent, electric.

She was sure Dracaena would be very much the same way by that time of night.

Once they'd return to the castle, the ruling Prince or Princess of Dragonstone would mount their dragons and fly into the night sky. Let their bonded beasts breathe bright flames, illuminating the darkness, a glorious spectacle for their subjects, while also showing the might and the power of house Targaryen.

That part of the evening was not a must, it was as much a spectacle as it was anything else.

But there were four festivals of this nature, the Blooming Harvest Festival for the spring moons, which took place during the third moon of the year. The Summer Nights festivals during the hot summer moons, which took place during the sixth moon of the year. The harvest festival for the chilling of autumn, which took place now, during the ninth moon of the year. And finally, the ice winter festivals for the cool moons, which took place during the twelfth and final moon of the year.

Although the harvest festival would always reign supreme in Rhaena's mind, it had always been her favourite celebration.

"Princess?" The voice was instantly recognizable as that of Lady Lelia Lannister, one of her key Ladies-in-waiting. She'd quietly interrupted Rhaena's peaceful thoughts, by now Rhaena had taken to laying out on a soft quilt upon the smooth grassy knoll of the eastern gardens. The rain had truly subsided, and the weather was not too cool or too warm, perfect for sitting...or laying outside.

The sun had finally burst through, warming Rhaena's skin and body. In the clean fresh air, with the sea breeze that rose up flowed along the garden's edge.

What a peaceful tranquil place, only Dragonstone's gardens could give such an aura.

Rhaena didn't peek her eyes open just yet, assuming that if Lady Lelia had come to join her, then most likely, her three other Ladies-in-waiting must have done so as well.

Lady Lelia was much like an elder sister, at the age of five and twenty, she was eldest of Rhaena's Ladies as well as being the eldest daughter of Lord Jason Lannister and his wife the Lady Johanna Lannister.

She was a beauty, in the conventional sense and all, she was the sort of Lady any man with eyes would want for... barring they could not have a Targaryen Princess. With pale ivory skin, long wispy bright blonde hair, sky-blue eyes that would normally would have hypnotized the strongest of men with a playful almost flirty smile always gracing her lips. Tall, radiant and slimly curved. All this and yet...she could not seem to marry.

She had the terrible misfortune of becoming a widow at the age of twenty when her husband, a respectable if not still inconsequential knight, died of sudden causes . It's been long since rumoured that she apparently murdered the man, with poison or black magic. It had earned her the moniker "The Black Widow Lioness" .

Even though ever since she'd become Rhaena's Lady-in-waiting, the truth of the matter was that her husband only choked on his morning breakfast, eggs and dry toast. It had made all of the girls laugh when she told them. But it seemed her parents never cared to announce that fact, they failed her by letting the wrong rumours spread, and now no matter how many horrible matches they tried to set up for her...Lord or knight, they were always far too apprehensive to trust her.

To wed her.

Lord and Lady Lannister had all by begged Rhaena take their most beautiful daughter into her court before she was labeled a true "spinster" . Their hope was that if their daughter could gain Rhaena's own favour, along with the royal family on the whole...then maybe she'd be lucky enough to find a good match.

Truthfully the Lannisters had gone to Baela first, and there, Rhaena's sister had no problem choosing to spite the Lord Lannister for his plots of near betrayal and near treason.

Rhaena on the other hand, might have wanted to spite Jason Lannister...but once again, in the most unlikely of people, she found Lady Lelia to be a kindred spirit of sorts, and accepted her into Dragonstone.

"Lelia, I know what you intend to ask me, and so I shall answer before you ask it. I am well," Rhaena sighed wistfully, because she was fine. She wasn't uncomfortable, or hungry, or sore, or in any sort of pain.

There was an ache within her...but she couldn't name it...so she wouldn't.

It was in an instant, but she felt a weight join her on the quilt beside her. Laying down soundly with a waft of mildly scented peonies.

Lady Ellyn Baratheon, another of Rhaena's close and personally chosen Ladies-in-waiting.

Lady Ellyn Baratheon had been another odd choice, mainly because there was a time when Rhaena's husband was quite close to being forced into a marriage with Ellyn's younger sister, Floris, Lord Borros Baratheon's favourite daughter. When the war was avoided, he'd asked Rhaena to allow Floris a spot in her court, as one of her Ladies-in-waiting.

Rhaena... might have blamed her hormones at the time, because just hearing the name Floris had enraged her. She knew it wasn't the girl's fault, but even so they idea of having Aemond's "almost wife" here in the castle made her jealous, annoyed, and quite irritated above all else. Besides it all, the girl was only four and ten, what need did Rhaena have for a companion so young.

Or so she reasoned with herself.

Aemond could have cared less for allowing either a Lannister or a Baratheon to be a part of their court, much less as Rhaena's personal own Ladies. But he reasoned the choice was hers, and so Rhaena opted for the cynical, sarcastic, articulate elder sister, Ellyn Baratheon instead.

She had no real basis for her choice in this case, politically it would do well to have a Baratheon in her court, Rhaena knew that.

For a house so rooted in Valryian ancestry, with Lord Borros' own great-ancestor having been the great Lord Orys Baratheon, while his grandmother had been Lady Alyssa Velaryon.

It was obvious that it would benefit Rhaenyra's reign to keep this fickle Baratheon Lord in good spirits.

But that never meant bowing to his demands entirely, he was only a Lord. Not a member of the royal household, so Rhaena chose who she wanted.

And in the end her choice had been the right one, Lady Ellyn was an interesting woman. One and twenty years of age, she was an often overlooked third daughter.

But as far as Rhaena was concerned, Ellyn was every bit as lovely as Floris was, maybe even more so due to the way her faint Valryian genes had struck her so. Her eyes may have been a remarkably common grey shade, but her chestnut brown hair was streaked with pale Valryian silver strands. Starting from the roots, it gave her a most interesting appearance. Her pale olive-toned skin glowed more than her sisters, and her face held such lovely regal features. She was about Rhaena's own height, only slightly more toned, as Ellyn was an avid horse rider.

"Princess, if the lack of attending hearings bothers you so, why not ask the Prince to reconsider?" Lady Ellyn softly nudged Rhaena's arm, playfully begging her to engage with them. The girls must've been greatly worried in order to do so.

"Exactly!" Lady Victaria chimed in, kneeling down on the other side of Rhaena's quilt, "Prince Aemond treats you as if you were a moon Goddess herself, I know I've not seen another man more in love with his wife...save for your father, the King with the Queen. Bat your lashes a bit and the Prince shall be putty in your hands. No one else could command him so,"

Lady Victaria Greyjoy, a girl of twenty years of age. She might've been Rhaena's favourite amongst her new companions, probably because she always had the nerve to just say whatever it was she was thinking. She reminded Rhaena of her sister, Baela, at the best of times.

Victaria was Dalton Greyjoy's younger sister, rumoured to be his bastard sister, but the claims were never proven to be true. Their father, Lord Greyjoy, and subsequently Dalton himself, had always claimed her to be legitimate...and so she was. Although, like Rhaena's own brown-haired brothers, it was Victaria's features that gave way to suspicion. Deep and dark nearly ruby red auburn curls, with peachy nearly deep beige skin, plush shapely lips and a structured rounded nose. She was a toned yet curvy girl, with an incredibly narrow waistline and wide hips, thicker thighs and a full chest...she, alongside Lady Lelia were two Ladies Rhaena was certain would find husbands soon enough.

But all the same, her features spoke of the possibility of having a Dornish mother...or possibly from another Free City.

A speculation Rhaena would never voice, for she knew how it was to have people constantly guess and whisper about one's parentage. She'd watched it happen to Jace, Luke and Joff whenever they were not in the presence of just family, especially once they had returned to King's Landing. Rhaena would never subject Victaria to such ridicule.

Instead, she was happy to welcome such a bright outspoken girl to her court, Aemond had not been as enthused when Dalton arrived with his sister...but Rhaena was able to curb that conversation in her favour

"Maybe so, Victaria," Rhaena giggled lightly at the choice of words the Greyjoy girl had chosen to go with, "but even my Princely husband has his limits. Besides, I've already attempted to have him reconsider. And by it all now... I've come to think he may have been right in his original decision. I'm far too emotional to sit and preside over weighted hearings such as those. To remain impartial and calm...it is impossible with this babe inside of me."

Saying the words, it weighed on her chest all the same to admit that she had to forfeit this part of her duties due to the little one within her.

But all the same, she found herself fondly gazing down at her rounded belly, softly caressing the curve, as if she thought her words too harsh and wished to apologize to her unborn babe. It wasn't her child's fault...not really.

"Then there must be something else we can do? Find another way to fill your time and cheer you, Princess," Lady Kyra quietly added, she hadn't moved from her seat on white stone bench that faced the gardens. But she had placed her novel down beside her, her eyes wide with concern.

Lady Kyra Tarly was the youngest amongst them, only recently turned six and ten, she was a rather neglected fourth born daughter. Supposedly deemed "unattractive and dumpy" by her parents, solely due to her rather plump curvier body shape. She was a quiet, awkward, bookish girl who did not exude the appearance of "dainty sophistication" as most noblewomen were meant to. But these were not faults in Rhaena's eyes, when Kyra’s mother, the former Lady Tarly, brought her four daughters to Dragonstone in hopes that Rhaena would choose her one of her elder, supposedly more conventionally handsome daughters.

Rhaena sought to do the opposite.

She had no need for Ladies who'd discuss vapid empty topics with her, Rhaena dealt with enough of those women regularly. No she wanted companions, women she could truly hold personal if not interesting conversations with, women she could grow to trust and count as true confidants.

And Lady Kyra held such a personality in Rhaena's eyes.

Besides it all, Rhaena supposed there was something soft and sweet about the girl that made Rhaena want to protect her. She hadn't liked the way Kyra's elder sisters or mother spoke to her, berated her. Her soft featured face, with faint reddish freckles splattered across rosy beige skin. She had big pale green eyes and rather unruly pale copper red curls.

She felt like a little sister, adorable, soft and caring, so of course Rhaena was happy to take her in...just her though, the other three Tarly daughters could turn elsewhere for positions in court.

"Well, dear Kyra, I am all ears to any suggestions you may have, any of you, really," Rhaena smiled, settling herself back against Ellyn.

She could hear soft hums, followed by the tranquil silence of the gardens. Birds fluttering about through the flower beds and hedge bushes.

It was clear, none of these girls had an idea between them.

It wouldn't really matter, as in the end, she wouldn't actually need their help. Her mind had been plaguing her with the same vague thought all day long now. Ever since her slight meltdown at breakfast, the feeling had only grown more intense. With each passing hour, it was becoming increasingly harder to ignore.

Her body hungered for her dragon Prince.

It was such an odd thing, one Rhaena had noticed gradually. The stark differences...they seemed to be ever-changing. The way Rhaena hungered for her husband now as opposed to before. When they'd been engaged, when he was only her betrothed , sex had been new and exciting, all-consuming and enriching. She wanted him as often as her body would allow her to, in every possible location they could steal away to.

Then once they were wed, she thought she'd grasped a handle on it, a happy medium, where as ravenous as she may have felt for her husband. There was a level of control... slight...level of control. To be honest they were still sneaking around corners and abandoned hallways, secret passages and tunnels just to spend a moment pleasing one another.

But this was different now.

Last moon had unlocked something within, something volatile and urging. As if there was no way of fully satisfying the beast within her that craved his attention and his body. A moon ago, she'd all but stormed into a settlement hearing, dismissed everyone else and lowered herself to her knees for him. He might've questioned her for only a moment, before he leaned back and allowed her to undo his breeches. Desperate to taste him then, she'd let her tongue run along the length of him before she happily took his thick member into the heat of her mouth.

She'd been sated then.

But it wasn't the last time she returned to him that day.

Or that week...or moon.

Rhaena thought she might have needed to reign these feelings in, surely it couldn't have been healthy to seek so much... lovemaking ...from one's husband.

And she would've kept a better handle on things today.

But even now, here on the ground in the gardens, she couldn't help but think of his silky hair yet again. The arousing way his adams apple drew her in, the ghosting feel of his lips trailing down her throat. She wanted to feel his hands roaming her body, her breasts, her bottom. She wanted to feel the heat of his breath on her neck and the hard wanting of his cock. She wanted to feel him inside of her, stretching her deeply, fucking her soundly.

Rhaena didn't care where they did it or who saw them, heard them. Whether they managed to return to their chambers, for simply fucked in the dining hall... maybe even the council room...one of the throne rooms.

She cared not, so long as he wasn't gentle.

He'd been sweet and loving this morning in bed, and she'd loved it then. But now she was desperate and hungry for him, she couldn't handle his usual teasing or his recent displays of wholesome lovemaking.

She'd climb atop him as he sat the throne if she must. For Rhaena was aching, a needy heat pooling in her lower regions. She needed him to please her as only he could.

Her mind could picture him so clearly, she knew where he'd be, listening to hearings in the eastern throne room...he wasn't far. One flight of stairs and a few steps and she'd be with him.

And if she knew her husband, as much as he meant to shield her from anything that might stress her, he didn't much enjoy listening to people plead their cases to him. If it was up to him he'd simply execute the vast majority of people who vexed him.

So by now he'd be in want of a distraction...one she was sure he'd welcome since it was coming from his wife.

This was it, this was how she'd spend her time today.

She'd go to him.

And if anything, this was his fault to begin with.

He'd been the one to plant this babe within her. And now because of it, she wanted for things at such an extreme rate.

Besides, he'd also all but told her this morning that he planned to indulge her. Whatever she felt, whatever upset her would be banished and whatever she craved for would be fulfilled. Rhaena could reason such things would not just stop with food cravings and Lords' colognes.

As Rhaena continued to caress her belly, the soft motions only solidified her feelings. Surely it felt just a tad bit odd vividly imagining scenarios in which her husband might fuck her roughly out here in the gardens with her Ladies.

But what could she do? At this very moment she craved her husband and nothing or no one else would do in his place.

If she could, she'd want Aemond to lay here with her, to hold her...to caress her...to touch her...wreck her right here, right now.

As opposed to this morning, where Rhaena could remember just how sweet and warm their lovemaking had felt. She wasn't sure if she wanted that exact feeling right at this moment, but she wanted him in some sort of capacity.

So, abruptly, Rhaena began to push herself up and off of her quilt. She wouldn't wait any longer, she'd take what she wanted. It was what dragons did best, and Rhaena was a dragon in her own right. So she let her present maid, Allyria, who'd joined her outside, help her to her feet. Followed by her four personal guards, Rhaena made her way back towards the castle. Without really glancing back at her Ladies, Rhaena called back, "it is fine if you don't come up with anything, I think I shall just go and see my husband."

"Shall you need backup? Moral support of a kind?" Lady Kyra innocently responded.

Rhaena held back her own laughter at the thought of her Ladies rushing behind her, following her all the way only to realize their Princess wished to engage in very private explicit activities with her husband. She smiled warmly at her young Lady Kyra's innocence.

And it seemed she wasn't the only one who found it amusing, as Rhaena made her way towards the castle, she could hear the other three girls giggling as Lady Lelia's delighted voice replied, "oh sweet one, I don't think she'll want any help with this particular encounter."

It had made Rhaena's smile widen, as it seemed all of the older Ladies knew exactly what Rhaena was after, other than poor Kyra.

The look of determination must have been a clear one.

From the moment Rhaena stepped into the castle, nobles and servants made way for her to reach her destination expeditiously. Gliding through the exquisite stoney halls, the floors smooth and marbled as were many of the surfaces here on Dragonstone. The afternoon sun poured in through the many high placed massive arched windows.

Draping the castle with a crisp classic yet ethereal White glow.

In formation, Rhaena's four guards Ser Garin, Ser Drako, Ser Miklaz and Ser Moredo walked with her through the halls. She'd let Allyria return to whatever task she saw fit to continue or enjoy some free time for the moment.

Ser Miklaz Rhonoq was a Myrish knight, with faintly visible Valyrian features and possibly Summer Islander ancestry as well. With dusky Blondish/pale brown curls, pale-cinnamon brown skin and pale blue eyes. He was stoic but kind-hearted, handsome yet far more humble about it than Ser Drako.

While Ser Moredo Sand was a Dornish bastard-born knight, his Valyrian ancestry was far less visible than the others. But he did in fact look quite Tyroshi, nearly sandy-brown complexion, with dusty copper-ish brown hair and green-ish hazel eyes. He remained a quiet dutiful knight, rarely breaking his stoic duty to even just converse freely with his sworn royal charges.

The eastern throne room was close enough, just up the grand steps, down a couple of turns and straight ahead.

Close...but not close enough.

The Eastern throne room was essentially the main throne for the ruling Prince or Princess of Dragonstone, it was where Aemond sat for most of his duties. Whether they be hearings, vital petitions, or larger settlements, this throne room is where this business was to be held. It was where Aegon the Conqueror once sat before he and his sister wives began to plan and plot how they'd conquer the whole of Westeros. The room was crafted with black stone, for the walls, the floors and the ceiling, the throne itself seemingly carved directly from black obsidian stone. It had the appearance of being melted and formed with dragons' fire, four pillars spiked, with an oozing melted look to it, it would shimmer in the light...if such light was permitted.

But this room was made to be dark and intimidating. Foreboding for all who were not of the blood of the dragon. There were eight windows in that room which allowed daylight, but by ceremonial principle, four were to have curtains drawn over them. Allowing for the room to need candle light, to keep the Dragon Lord in control of the emotional state of the room.

Or so it is to be believed.

Daylight calms people... daylight invites the idea that one is safe, safe to make claims and voice their opinions. But in the darkness, one might remember to remain humble...to fear the dragon that sits before you.

Ambience and all aside, Rhaena was certain Aemond Targaryen needed no such help to exude such a feeling to his subjects.

But she digressed.

In Rhaena's own case, she essentially had her own throne room as well. The Northern throne room, was as its name suggested, in the Northern part of the castle. Far less dreary than its Eastern counterpart, its eight windows were allowed to be open. Encouraged in fact, to illuminate the white stoned room, a bright encouraging environment. The throne in that room mimicked the melting stone appearance of the Eastern one, only it was glossier with white marbling stone, it shimmered with iridescent beauty when any natural light shone against it.

Once belonging to Rhaenys the Conqueror, she was the brightest, the most vivid in her beauty in comparison to her two other trueborn siblings. And so her throne room was meant to be a place where subjects could freely voice their concerns and opinions to the lovely counterpart of their Dragonlord. For Rhaena's own tastes, she might have added a great many green plants and boldly colourful flowers to the decor of the room. Adding colour and life to the place she was meant to think of as her daily setting.

Harkening back to the days in which Rhaena would fill her own chambers with plants and floral vines, an extension of her personality that always made her feel at home no matter the place.

There was also a third throne room...the Western throne room, in the western wing of the castle. It had once belonged to Visenya the Conqueror, but Rhaena had yet to have need for it. So she hadn't ventured to it as of yet, though she was sure Aemond must have already by now. Much like Aegon's former throne...she imagined the room to be a dark foreboding place...possibly far more blood red than dark and black.

But who was to say.

As Rhaena arrived at the doors of the Eastern throne room, she simply nodded towards the two Knights guarding the doors.

Familiar choices for their castle wide guards...but as neither were amongst Rhaena's personal six...she couldn't say she'd remembered their names all too well as of yet.

One knight deigned to speak to her, "you Grace, the Prince Aemond it currently presiding over a matter with Lord Celtigar and-"

Her eyes lowered and rolled at the robotic regurgitated words the man seemed to think necessary in repeating to her. She already knew what her husband was doing, and was largely unsurprised with the fact that his hearing should be with the young Lord Celtigar.

As per Dragonstone's court, they were not the Capital, whereas in King's Landing, the Red Keep may host the direct Lord and Lady of each house should they need to. Here in Dragonstone, they were hosts to direct heirs of a great few houses, soon-to-be young Lords and Ladies. From House Celtigar, Rogare, Darry, Vypren, Rowan and Vance. These Lords were insurance policies, direct lines to their Lord fathers' who could and would communicate with their heirs to make deals and alliances with the crown directly when they themselves could not make the journey.

This idea went just as well with the many Valyrian based Free Cities. Although, as many of those cities had monarchies of their own, or elected officials, instead of heirs...they sent dignitaries. So Dragonstone played host to dignitaries from Lys, Volantis, Tyrosh, Pentos, Qohor, Norvos and Lorath.

Hence the rather boisterous court Dragonstone held within its walls.

In the case of House Celtigar, they'd been stalling on a rather important response to which Aemond was indeed tired of waiting for.

Even through the closed heavy oak doors, Rhaena could hear the temperature rising from within the throne room.

"For fucksake, Clement, I tire of your rambling! That old fuck of a grouchy father you have has managed to evade decisions long enough. Send a raven, sail to him if you must, grab him by the shoulders and get a fucking clear answer from the man. Before I think to send a 'message' of my own to him," Aemond's rough voice had seethed something dark by the end, he was making threats once again.

Oh, by the Gods.

THIS was why Rhaena's presence for hearings such as these were necessary.

Her husband was one snap away from drawing his sword on the hapless young Lord.

She could hear the poor man of stammer through a muffled response, "m-my Prince, my father refuses to see reason, n-no matter what word I send to him-"

"Would he see reason if I sent back his only son to him bit by bit, as severed limbs and pieces all stuffed and crammed into ornamental chest-box," Aemond growled loudly, "or maybe your dear wife would be a better a threat, or your children perhaps-"

OKAY...that was enough.

He was clearly enraged, and now he was threatening the lives of this one man's entire family.

With a pointed regal glare that spoke of the superiority and power she held in this castle, she burned her sight down onto the guard that dared to block her entrance. Adding on a sweet little smile as she said, "now, shall we make this easy, open this door. Before the head of Lord Celtigar is resting on your conscious. For I assure you, my parents, the Queen and King of Westeros, will not be pleased if you stood in my way when I could've just as easily stopped this. It would call for a very easy, very swift execution for you my good Ser."

She couldn't have been sure if it was her own glare that won the knight over, or if possibly the four knights behind her had joined in on her intimidation tactic. But either way, both guarding knights opened the doors for her in one synchronized motion, letting her glide inside with pristine grace considering the ravenous state her body was in just moments prior.

Once inside, it was just as she feared, Lord Clement Celtigar stepping back apprehensively with his own valet and representatives from House Celtigar. All critically and fearfully watching as Aemond rose from his seat in a flash, drawing his dark red gleaming sword from its sheath.

"I'm certain Blood Moon thirsts for noble blood," he snarled cruelly as he advanced upon the unprepared Lord, Clement Celtigar's own sword still sheathed and untouched.

"Konir sagon mirre, valzȳrys, " that is enough, husband, Rhaena calmly stated as she fearlessly walker closer to the unfolding tension filled room, "lo ao ossēnagon zirȳla, īlon iēdrosa kessa daor emagon se udligon jaeli," If you kill him, we still will not have the answer we want.

It was best to approach her irate dragon with a calm tone, speaking with that calm tone in Valyrian also helped to snap him out of his red vision just as quickly. She'd seen him in far worse states than this, it was nothing she could not handle.

Even if her guarding knights seemed ready and willing to draw their swords to protect her should they need to.

But she only glanced back at them, smiled sweetly with a gentle nod, to show them she was fine and did not need their assistance.

Not here, not for this, and certainly not for her husband.

She may not have had a true bonded dragon...but that didn't mean that she did not understand how to calm and tame the most wild amongst them.

Rhaena watched as Aemond reluctantly halted, his shoulders rising and lowering, his heavy intakes with each breath he took.

But his sword was still drawn, so unpredictability was still a possibility. She'd have to secure Lord Celtigar's safety in this moment with something more concrete.

"Gīda ñuha zaldrīzes," calm my dragon , Rhaena softly spoke, sweetening her tone as she slowly walked towards him, acting as if there was no one else in the throne room, "rughagon zȳhon ānogar kessa daor mazverdagon se uēpa āeksio celtigar paktot lēda se pāletilla," spilling his blood will not make the old Lord Celtigar side with the crown.

Finally she watched as he growled, sighing heavily as he sheathed his sword again. Grinding his teeth as he took viciously precise steps back to his throne, with that Rhaena subtly ignored the soft whispers of gratitude Lord Celtigar and his team whispered to her. Instead she took her seat beside him, an ornate red with black floral throne chair that existed solely for their shared hearings.

Aemond hadn't met her eye, not from the moment she walked in …and not even now. But he had clearly heard her, he'd instantly stopped and listened to her. He was just opting to be grumpy and petty about it all because she hadn't allowed him to kill the Lord.

Rhaena could see Aemond's left foot vigorously tapping as he waited...and for a moment, Rhaena wondered what he was waiting for.

But then it dawned on her, she'd essentially waltzed in and stolen the breath of the room, leaking all of the tension out and away. Aemond had no interest in this situation anymore, so much so, he didn't even care to end it properly.

So Rhaena would, with a light sigh, she looked over directly towards the Lord, "Lord Celtigar," she started with a warm smile, grabbing his attention to solely focus on her, "my husband, Prince Aemond is correct. In that, you should reach out to your father once more. At your own digression, you may decide what would be a more efficient method, whether another raven would suffice or if you yourself must greet him in person. But this matter must be settled before the next moon ends. The crown needs to know if House Celtigar intends to stand with them, and by extension House Targaryen in this endeavor with the Stepstones."

Breathing soundly, she watched as Lord Celtigar breathed a sigh of relief, dealing with the calm approach of the dragon Princess as opposed to the hostile nature of the Lording dragon Prince.

With a bow he quickly replied, "yes of course, Princess...Prince. Ravens' have not sufficed, so it is probably best that I make the journey personally. I know how important securing and solidifying the Stepstones is to her and his Majesty."

"Good, make your preparations, and inform us of the specifics of this trip," Rhaena gave a simple nod, "you are now dismissed."

Rhaena patiently waited for Lord and his posse to exit the throne room, only truly breathing once they had left the room vacant with only servants and guards.

"Nyke gōntan daor jorrāelagon ao naejot interfere, ēdan ziry gō control," I did not need you to interfere, I had it under control, Aemond finally grumbled after a beat of silence.

Rhaena huffed a laugh at that statement, pulling herself up to her feet and stepping right in front of him. She placed her hands directly onto his wrists, pressing them down on the arm rests of the stone throne, leaning over him just enough to force his attention.

For his gaze could not remain on the floor forever.

The moment his dark indigo eye locked onto her pale violet eyes, she felt a lovely heated shiver run through her body. There was something so dark and dangerous in his eye, inviting a threat…a command…a wanting of sorts.

She couldn't claim to be sure of what this expression on his face truly read to be, but she was happy to risk the outcome.

"Ao ivestretan nyke īlen se hakotan mēre, se yet, ao jeldan naejot gūrogon ānogar sīr nāqopsir ," you told me I was the emotional one, and yet, you wished to draw blood so easily, Rhaena breathed, a soft alluring sound wrapped itself around the pronunciation of each Valyrian word.

From that his only response formed itself as a devious smirk that grew on his lips, an expression that only worked to entice her further.

"Mmm, udligon nyke bisa," mmm, answer me this, his voice sounded so velvety smooth, nearly enchanting her to abandon all thought of decorum and-, "skoros emagon ao māzigon syt, byka ābrazȳrys?" what have you come for, little wife?

That alone might have been enough-

But in that moment, Aemond hadn't waited for her response. With a swift sleight of hand trick, he'd managed to pull his wrists free whilst grabbing ahold of hers. Pulling her closer, inviting her to climb atop him. And as her lust for him began to cloud her mind once again, she allowed it. From the moment he released her wrists in favour of securing her waist in his hands. Rhaena made the comfortable choice to rest her hands upon his broad shoulders, her knees slipping into the space around his hips, straddling him truly before she seated herself down atop his lap.

Once she was seated upon his warm sturdy thighs she felt her blood tingle and shiver, her heart hammering soundly at a speed only he caused within her.

"Nyke missed ñuha zaldrīzes iksis mirre," I missed my dragon is all, Rhaena softly hummed, pressing herself closer, finally drowning in that calming clean citrusy scent of his. Mixed with that cedarwood undertone that made her head feel light and dizzy, she found her arms wrapping tighter around him. Her fingers sweetly combing the smooth length of his hair as her nose reached and nuzzled against his.

She could feel his previous hostility towards Lord Celtigar slowly dissipate and fade, however tense his body might've been moments ago, it was now open and inviting her to him.

"Kessa nyke remedy bona pār," shall I remedy that then, were the last words he'd said before his lips claimed hers. It was as if she were swallowing flames, the instant heat that spread from her lips, down her throat and coursed its way through her entire body. The shivering satisfaction of feeling his tongue entangle with hers, tasting every last part of the molten heat of his mouth. She let herself melt against him, letting the dream-like feel of his large hands roaming her hips, her waist, her lower back and then round her bottom.

So comfortably free of formality, both of them knowing exactly who they belonged to, who had claimed them, forever and always.

In the melting frenzy of her wanting, Rhaena's hips had already begun to slowly grind themselves against his, already feeling the peaked hard rod of his cock buried within his breeches.

And she knew she was making it worse for him, purposely teasing him with what she herself was already in desperate need to have. In that desperation, she held him tighter, kissed him harder…rougher, her teeth grazing his lips as she all but bit and possessed him. She was moaning so sweetly for him, she'd completely forgotten about any and every servant or guard who might've still been present in the throne room.

For, indeed the word, ravenous , was most certainly the best word to describe her need at the moment.

All the while, it seemed Aemond had happily embraced this vigor of hers. Pulling her just as tightly against him, smiling and chuckling as he groaned against her, "you should have told me you were starving for me, I would have come to you sooner."

"I was just trying to put it off…" she panted heavily, kissing him soundly just as quickly.

As he lifted her closer, his grip purposely squeezing and gliding along her bottom, he grinned, "never put me off, I'd rather this sort of distraction over anything else."

Such a simple response had made her body electrify in an instant, making her already soaked cunt quiver at the sound of her husband's demand. Her hips only rolled more intensely against him, her desperation and want for him only growing, burning brighter.

Gods, how she wanted him…she wanted him inside of her that very instant.

She couldn't say what it was about this dimly lit setting that had only added to her arousal. A room that was meant to convey fear and foreboding…now only made her want to ride her husband till completion.

And she would.

Although it seemed they couldn't have pulled apart for the decency of relieving their staff, and oddly enough, Rhaena might not have cared to do so at that moment either. The quiet audience that probably wished to exit but were simultaneously compelled to stay, unsure of what their next move could possibly be for so long as they didn't infuriate their Targaryen Lord and Lady they would be fine.

They would be safe.

But that also meant no one could truly interrupt them either.

Whatever shared looks and glances they may have been sharing, throats clearing in an attempt to draw either Rhaena or Aemond's attention long enough for them to be dismissed…all went unheard and unseen.

For both Rhaena and her dragon were far too occupied with one another to care for anything or anyone else.

With those sets of multiple eyes somewhat made to witness them, it all made Rhaena's body feel like it was transcending, so much so that she'd barely missed a beat when her fingers nimbly began to unlace Aemond's breeches. Pulling his hard cock free to the sound of a raspy groan from her husband, she wasted no time shuffling beneath her skirts, shifting her underclothes just enough to guide his thick throbbing member to her drenched opening.

She'd felt the deep sultry whine that bubbled in the recesses of her throat before it threatened to burst out and echo into the throne room. Before the entire sound could resonate, she'd managed to catch Aemond's lips. Allowing him to swallow the sound, just as she swallowed his reverberating moan as she sank down onto his length.

"Oh my Gods," Rhaena had whimpered against him, the words had simply slipped away from her and there was no returning them.

Only matched by Aemond's own smirk at her sentiments, "fuck, you were already so wet for me…how long have you been missing me,"

"Since breakfast-" she moaned just as he thrusted his cock deep within her, stretching her cunt for his own thick size to snugly occupy.

It was then that the doors to the throne room had been opened, it sounded so faint, so way off in the distance. But by the resounding sigh of recognition, she could just barely comprehend that it must've been Maester Varion. A man who'd had the apparent displeasure of catching Rhaena and Aemond in the act several times before.

He never spoke of it afterwards, never acted the slightest bit surprised or cross when he came face to face with their actions.

He only ever did their staff the courtesy of dismissing them from the room. Just as he did now, he must've quickly and quietly motioned for all, including Rhaena's and Aemond's personal guards, to leave the room.

Rhaena only knew it to be true, once her growing pleasure rose to an unmatched peak, the fire stoked within her, her blood trilling and singing to the synchronized bliss of fucking ones dragon mate. She'd pulled her lips away from his, enough to quickly glance around the room before letting her hands grip into his hair as she pulled tightly. Relishing the strangled husky groans and wincing that fell from Aemond's lips.

"I don't care, whenever you feel you need me…whenever you wish for me to take you… please you…fuck you senseless," he panted as his forehead rested against hers, "you find me…send for me…and I will come."

God's he looked like absolute perfection in this golden light. The orange candlelight paired with the faint daylight that peered through the windows. His striking curvilinear features, on display just for her.

Oh how she tried to focus on his words, the most important being, if she wanted him then he'd come to her .

So she'd keep that in mind.

But for now, she purposely fought the urge to tuck her face in the crook of his neck, no she wished to see him when she came. Each perfectly timed stroke made her feel drunk and frazzled, her own movements had become erratic, burning with the speed in which her hips snapped against his. In her heat for him, she'd snatched his leather patch off. They were all alone now and she wanted to see everything, moaning simply because she'd realized he hadn't worn his sapphire today. The sweet bliss of truly seeing the real him at this very moment, when she was already so close.

"Harder, ñuha dōna zaldrīzes ," my sweet dragon , Rhaena begged in a mixture of languages, her back already arching so nicely for him in his hold, "I need you to hurt me,"

It was all the command he needed, as his hand reached under her skirts solely so he could feel the heated smooth skin of her bare thighs and hips. Gripping violently hard into her skin, with the clear intention to bruise her, to give his hand a rougher purchase on her body. While his other hand under her arm and around to the back of her neck, squeezing her tightly, holding her rigidly. She barely winced at the recognizable sweet ache, only focusing on the delicious pleasure it gave way to as he thrusted into her even harder…deeper.

"Qogralbar, dōna riña," fuck, sweet girl, Aemond groaned roughly as he thrusted so deeply into her that her cunt clenched tightly around his cock, "ñuha gevie byka ābrazȳrys," my beautiful little wife.

Gods…how she loved him.

He had to know how the sound of his voice…how his gravelly Valyrian seeped into her skin and roused her entire body.

So much so that Rhaena couldn't even bear to think of a response, her mind had long since melted and turned to mush.

She couldn't control her body anymore, as she threw her head, arching back as she writhed viciously. It made her own grip tighten in his hair, as one of her hands gripped so hard against the cotton silk of the shirt beneath his doublet, against his shoulder where she let her nails dig in and bury themselves against his skin. By then Aemond had leaned down over by her neck, his teeth grazing and the soft tender skin of her throat, probably breaking the skin if only slightly as he soothed the burn with his tongue.

It was in that space, the place between immense pleasure and pain, where Rhaena felt that electric fire build and build until it peaked over a near ethereal horizon.

In the dark bliss of perfection, she felt her dragon merely thrust twice more before he joined her in groaning aloud their shared pleasure…and now satisfaction.

As he spilled his heated seed within her, Rhaena felt her body go limp as she collapsed against him. Resting her head on his shoulder as her chest heaved with every deep panting breath she took. A sense of calm clarity washed over her as she loosened her grip in his hair, lowering her hand to caress his chest before she gently raised her hand up to cup his scarred cheek. Nuzzling her nose against his neck, breathing in that savory citrusy spiced cedarwood scent of his that both calmed her and aroused her, as she let her thumb trace over the scar that travelled down his left cheek.

"I never thought a throne room would lend itself to such a pleasure," Rhaena breathed, smiling softly, content in the bliss of this quiet moment, "we should convene here more often."

Aemond had chuckled warmly and she soaked in the lovely sound, "I'm certain I've invited you to use this room before,"

"Surely not," she playfully disagreed.

"Definitely have…but it matters not. Should I be trapped here again," he grinned, kissing the crown of her head with such warmth and love, "then do me the honour of interrupting me… distracting me…"

Rhaena smiled at that, humming sweetly as she nodded her head, "as you wish, my love."

P.S. I hope this was a fun little smutty one!

LOOL I had fun with this one, the idea of Aemond being overprotective but also being right, but also being wrong (because he was not handling things well with Lord Celtigar near the end there).

Expect more of that in the next chapter! The main "issue/conflict" for the next chapter really hinges on them both being as equally right as they are wrong, I think so at least LOOL

I'm also trying to keep track of the kinks I'm checking off as I go, this chapter definitely had horny Preggo Rhaena and a bit of their exhibition kink!

Ch.7 will have a bit of the food kink/whip cream kink as well as a bit of bondage. Ch.8 is where the Lactation kink will finally come into play! As well as an anal scene!!

Shit's ramping uppppppp…and baby #1 is so close to getting here, in ch. 9 as far as my notes are concerned!!

#aemond x rhaena #rhaena x aemond #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #rhaena targaryen #rhaemond #aemond smut #rhaena smut #he saw her at daybreak #hshad

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