#lyanna laris.

[bibiundtinaundzombies]

making up wild asoiaf ships to see if i’m the first weirdo who thought of them 2: electric boogaloo

[madashryver]

Otto Hightower : Most of the lords who swore allegiance to Rhaenyra are either dead or too old.

All Northerners of Hotd and Got (except the Boltons) : THE NORTH REMEMBER!!!

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 2.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 2.7k

aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity

who wants to live forever - sarah brightman • nothing's new - rio romeo

chapter specific warnings: non-descript smut, blood

Sleep was easy to find that night for Lyanna– her body and mind were exhausted from the events of the day. She felt sore everywhere, especially between her legs. It ached like she had ridden a horse hard for days and she would most certainly need to be drawn a bath in the morn.

It was easy for her to fall into a state of unconsciousness, but it wasn’t a true sleep. It felt very much like being ill with a fever, flitting in and out of being awake, dreams and nightmares dancing behind her lids. Sweat skimmed her brow as she tossed and turned.

Squeak, squeak.

 The Red Keep was the noisiest, creakiest building she’d ever slept in– not even comparable to Storm’s End, which stood tall for generations against the most ferocious of storms, waves crashing against the weathered bricks.

Squeak, squeak.

Lyanna’s eyes fluttered open, light illuminating behind the curtain. She turned to the side, seeing that Aegon was gone, feeling better for it. She couldn’t quite shake how he looked at her last night after they coupled– something akin to disgust and pity, as if she was no more than an inconvenience for him. Mayhaps she was. She rubbed her eyes, wiping away the errant hair stuck to her forehead from sweat, sitting up. A gnawing pain gathered at her lower belly, as if she’d lost something precious to her. 

Stepping onto the stone floor, she slipped on her house slippers. A flash of red caught her eye– blood was on the bed. It wasn’t much, a spattering spit inked into the cotton sheets and it was reminiscent of when her moon’s blood would catch her off guard at times. But this wasn’t her moon’s blood. Her pulse hammered in her neck, remembering Aegon’s words from the night before, her eyes leading to the now dry, stiff cloth on her nightstand, which was also stained with blood. It was a reminder of what she lost– a part of her innocence, a chapter of her life closed. She was no longer a girl, fretting with girlish thoughts and girlish problems– she was a woman, a wife– she was the Queen. 

The realization came to her like a ton of bricks falling on her and her legs wobbled under her like a newborn fawn’s– she was the Queen. People would look to her for guidance, for an example– she felt underprepared for it all and her insides continued to swirl like a storm off in the distance, ever looming, ever there.

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

Lyanna’s eyes narrowed, the incessant squeaking noise that had woken her up was still going– there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it, no pattern. Walking to the window, she drew back the curtain and looked outside. It was a perfectly calm, tepid, sunny day– clear skies.

Fetching her house coat, she wrapped it taut around her body, snuggling into it and covering her silken sleeping shift– she didn’t know if Aegon would be out in the solar and didn’t want to chance it. She felt ill at the thought of being… exposed to him in broad daylight. 

Squeak, squeak. Bump. Bump.

The noise was rampant now, irritating Lyanna. She wished to find the source of the disturbance, mayhaps it was something simple, like a window left open or a rat. She had hoped it wasn’t a rat.

The solar was empty upon investigation, the curtains half-open. The noise, now speeding up in its frequency, appeared to be coming from the washroom on the far side of the chamber. The door was ajar by an inch or two. Huffing, she padded over to the door and peeked in.

In hindsight, she very much wished it had been a rat. A big, fat, disgusting rat with protruding teeth and a hundred babies scattered around it. Anything would’ve been better than what she saw.

Aegon, she surmised– his backside to her, a few errant scars and burns littered around his torso. He was naked as the day he was born, his muscles taut as he drilled into a woman– she was littered in jewels and pearls in her matching outfit with Aegon, nude. She had dark brown hair and fair skin, her body undulating and shivering against each thrust Aegon made– Lyanna came to the quick conclusion that she was a whore. Lyanna’s husband was fucking a whore. Fucking a whore in their chambers, with all the vigor and fervor of a dragon, panting up a storm and whispering to her, even smacking her ass and praising her. 

She was going to be sick. She was going to vomit on the floor, cry, scream, confront him, claw the whore’s eyes out– she had to get away. A small gasp escaped her lips unwittingly as she fled back to their bedroom. Her hands were shaking as the image replayed in her mind– she never expected her and Aegon to love one another, she couldn’t ask that of him, of anyone. But he seemed pained to even touch her the night before, to lay with her– he couldn’t even look at her fucking face. Was she so hideous that her own husband couldn’t… she grabbed a pair of embroidery scissors, her body moving faster than her mind. The squeaking noises of Aegon and his whore coupling was going on for well over thirty minutes, when he could barely be inside of Lyanna for three the night before. 

The sound of his voice, the little she had heard, as he whispered to the woman, citing her as beautiful, lovely, sweet– Lyanna clutched her skirt with one hand, the scissors in the other as she began her descent. 

Her hand stabbed into the bed, cutting and slashing around the stained sheet, the edges frayed into a jagged mess. Once the twisted fragment of cloth was free, she discarded the scissors as she slammed through every door she could– out of the bedroom, out of the solar– she didn’t know what to feel, she felt too much. 

The bloody token was clenched in her fist, her knuckles white as she knocked fervently on the door of the Queen mother. 

One of her handmaidens answered, her head bowing, “Your grace–”

“Lyanna?” Alicent’s voice called. She was sitting at a table near the open window balcony of her solar, tea cup in hand. She was still in her nightgown, hair down and flowing behind her. She took one look at her good-daughter’s face and eyed her handmaiden, “Leave us, Talya.”

“This– this is proof,” Lyanna whispered, holding out the stained sheet, “This is proof that I… have done my duty– I tried, I am trying–” she sniffed, tears running down her face as her hands shook violently. 

Alicent’s brow furrowed, her face soft, “Oh, dear girl,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around Lyanna, all encapsulating and warm, “I know, I know. You’ve done so well– did… did he hurt you?” she asked, her voice so quiet it was almost unheard.

Lyanna shook her head as she dropped the sheet, slotting herself against Alicent’s chest, sobbing her heart out. 

“I know it hurts, my sweet girl,” Alicent breathed, “It won’t always hurt. Eventually… you become numb." She moved the two of them to the couch and simply held the poor girl while she shook and sobbed for the better part of an hour. Alicent petted her head softly, not saying anything more until Lyanna’s sobs quieted to simple sniffs. “Mayhaps– we should have you move into your own chambers. It isn’t uncommon for husband and wife to be in separate chambers. King Viserys and I did not… sleep in the same bed for the better part of our marriage. I’m all the grateful for it– you need your own space to curate, to make your own. You are the Queen now, mayhaps we shall set up luncheons with the ladies in your new chambers, hm? We shall break fast together every morn before we go to the Sept, and we should even charter a weekly trip to the Grand Sept– but let me not get carried away with plans so soon. Let us focus on getting you into your own solar, your own bed,” she put her hand under Lyanna’s chin and tilted her head upward, “It gets better, I promise.”

– 

Lyanna returned to their– no, it was Aegon’s alone now– chambers a few hours later, after calming down and breaking her fast with Alicent. It was completely empty now, she checked the washroom, just to make sure.

After properly dressing for the day in a simple blue gown, tying her hair up in a braided bun. A quick peek in the mirror disappointed her slightly– she didn’t look queenly yet, merely a little girl trying to play the part. But it would have to be worked on.

Slowly, she gathered her things– mostly just one or two things to carry, and the rest for the servants to take down to her new chambers. Sometime during her organization, she heard the door close. Expecting it to be a servant, as they’d been in and out for the past hour taking her things, she didn’t turn around. “Please, don’t forget the chest near the door– it has all of my cloaks in it.”

“What’s going on here?” A voice, Aegon’s she quickly surmised, spoke.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as the scene from earlier in the morn plagued her mind. His voice to her now sounded to cold, versus the warm, husky drawl to which he praised the whore with. She took a breath and stood up straight, smoothing out her skirts. “I am moving my things to my chambers.”

“Your chambers? Is this not your chambers?” he spoke with a sarcasm that made her blood boil, his brow raised.

“It is yours. Husband and wife have separate chambers all the time.”

“Did my mother tell you that? It sounds like her words,” he scoffed, walking a bit closer to her. He smelled of musk and fire, something deep and animalistic she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I must say, it’s quite a record. A mere day it took for my mother to poison your mind against me. Tell me, did she use her infamous line about me being a sinner? Talk about my voracious, impure appetites?” 

Lyanna’s brow knit in irritation, hands clenched onto a half-finished embroidery piece. It was of Sunfyre, Aegon’s dragon, whom she’d never seen, but had heard of. She started it when the betrothal was announced and it was to be a gift for him. The wood of the hoop cracked under her fingers. “Was she good to you, dear husband?” 

He was confused now, tilting his head. “Whom? My mother?”

“Did you purchase her those pearls? Or was that a gift from one of her other suitors?”

Aegon’s face blanched slightly as he cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you expected.”

“What I expected?” Lyanna’s voice quivered.

“Yes, what you expected,” Aegon countered as he clenched and unclenched his fist, “My… proclivities aren’t exactly a secret. You knew what you were getting into–” 

“Don’t– don’t! I expected to marry a king– and yes, I’d heard… rumors. I thought mayhaps you… might’ve turned a new leaf after the war.”

“Fucking hell, you sound like my grandsire. Is that what you expected then? Batting your lashes and exchanging a few words between us and I’ll swear off of other women’s cunts for the rest of my life? Mayhaps if you weren’t so…” 

“So what? Say it, so I know where I stand.” 

“You’re plain looking. You aren’t some great beauty that they write songs about, that men go to war for, hm?”

Lyanna stopped then, her throat going dry. Her finger tips felt numb as an aching feeling spread through her body in waves, emanating from her chest. 

“When my grandsire told me I was to marry one of the Baratheon girls, I’d hoped it to be one of your sisters. Cassandra, or mayhaps Floris. Now that is a woman! Blue eyes always were a favorite of mine. Mayhaps when they come to visit again I’ll stick my cock in one of them– I doubt their husbands are satisfying them as well as they could be.”

It felt as if her blood was on fire, her hands twitching. She could feel her pulse in her neck, her head spinning. She could hardly believe the words she was hearing– it felt as if he had stabbed her and each word was another twist of his knife in her gut. 

“Cat got your tongue, wife?” 

She felt her blood pumping through her body whilst feeling like her body was devoid of blood at the same time. A blank stare came over her, her eyes glazing over. Her mouth was taut in a line. Was it possible for the numbness to hurt? It rolled through her in waves like a sickness and she felt bile rise in her throat. It was acrid, stinging her mouth and poisoning her tongue. 

Her movements were a blur, she could hardly see a few feet in front of her, her body was autonomous as she left Aegon standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face, as if putting her down was some great feat, as if he’d conquered her already fragile disposition and proven himself better.

She locked herself in her new chambers for three days after that, only taking Alicent as a visitor. She didn’t cry– she just hid. She had the mirrors removed temporarily, thinking herself so ugly she couldn’t bear to see her own face, just as Aegon couldn’t even look at her face. 

–

“Have you no shame, son? Where did I go wrong in raising you that you could be such a brute, a monstrous cad to your wife?!” Alicent continued on, going on for the second hour of yelling at him.

“My ability to feel shame was ripped away from me at a young age, mother. You and grandsire should know best about that.” he replied dryly, swirling his wine in his goblet.

“She is a sweet girl, Aegon! A bit naive, yes, but so was I when I married your father.”

“Is that what this is about, mother? You see a small version of yourself in that girl? Is that why you so valiantly protect her– would that make me my father then?” He took a sip. “That is a new insult, quite creative you are with that one.”

“You are hopeless, Aegon.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. We are all fucking hopeless.”

Alicent left, slamming the door behind her.

Aegon stared at his half-empty cup of wine, staring into the red, swirling liquid. He was a vicious, monstrous cad. Not like his brother was, at least he was useful in his monstrousness, bringing half the realm to heel on that geriatric dragon of his.

 Aegon was more akin to a dog than a dragon, feeling the yank of his chain once more. Mayhaps he was a bad dog– he bit the hand that tried to feed him, leaving him starving and alone.

He got up from the settee and moved to refill his glass when he saw a flash of gold in the corner of his eye. Bending down, he picked up an embroidery hoop. The edges were cracked, splinters of dark wood jutting out. The thread weaved in it was golden and pink, in the shape of a dragon– half of one, anyhow. He could spot the likeness of his proudest achievement half a mile away. It was a depiction of Sunfyre, half finished. It was quite good.

He put down the bottle, discarding his goblet for the time being. He wondered who did this– mayhaps Helaena or Jaehaera. 

Then it dawned upon him– he had seen Lyanna holding it when she was gathering her things days before.

Just before he said those things. Hurtful, awful things. His fingertips traced the stitches of the embroidery, amazed that she was able to portray Sunfyre so accurately without ever having seen him.

Aegon’s lip wobbled slightly as he felt tears well up in his eyes. He wasn’t a bad dog– he doesn’t know why he bites. He just does.

taglist: @mariahossain @zillahvathek

[anxiousnerdwritings]

In your opinion for yan! Got/asoiaf who's the most manipulative yandere? Least manipulative?

Some of the characters really depend on the situation and the overall relationship with their darling but so far this is what I could think of.

Most Manipulative:

Euron Greyjoy

Tywin Lannister

Brynden Rivers/Bloodraven

Shiera Seastar

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon Blackfyre

Aegon V Targaryen

Cersei Lannister

Visenya Targaryen

Olenna Redwyne

Margaery Tyrell

Robb Stark

Sansa Stark

Catelyn Tully/Stark

Lysa Tully/Arryn

Tyrion Lannister

Arianne Martell

Oberon Martell

Daenerys Targaryen

Roose Bolton

Ramsay Bolton

Joffrey Baratheon

Renly Baratheon

Maegor Targaryen

Aerion ‘Brightflame’ Targaryen

Rhaegar Targaryen

Aerys ’Mad King’ Targaryen

Lyanna Stark

Brandon Stark

Melisandre

Varys

Petyr ‘Littlefinger’ Baelish

Yigritte

Bran Stark

Arya Stark

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Jaime Lannister

Aemond ‘One Eye’ Targaryen

Robert Baratheon

Mance Rayder

Val

Theon Greyjoy

Reek!Theon Greyjoy?

Yara/Asha Greyjoy

Aemon ‘Dragonknight’ Targaryen

Gerold Dayne/Darkstar

Larys Strong

Corlys Velaryon

Jaqen H’ghar

Alicent Hightower

Criston Cole

Least Manipulative:

Podrick Payne

Brienne of Tarth

Rhaella Targaryen

Sandor Clegane

Jon Snow

Samwell Tarly

Tommen Baratheon

Myrcella Baratheon

Loras Tyrell

Rhaenys Targaryen

Alysanne Targaryen

Jaehaerys Targaryen

Shireen Baratheon

Ned Stark

Edric Dayne

Arthur Dayne

Elia Martell

Doran Martell

Benjen Stark

Helaena Targaryen

Aegon ‘The Conqueror’ Targaryen

Bronn

Aegor Rivers/Bittersteel

Brynden Tully

Missandei

Victarion Greyjoy

Willas Tyrell

Garlan Tyrell

Harwin Strong

Duncan the Tall

Daeron ‘The Good’ Targaryen

Robert Arryn/Sweetrobin

[genz420]

Beauty of Scars & Flowers - Chapter 1: Gate Of The Gods.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part

The last time Larys saw his little niece, she was still little.  It had been at the funeral of the three Strongs, and the Lyanna had been wrapped in bandages from the fire.  Larys had partly hoped that Lyanna had also died in the fire, that he would be the last legitimate Strong left.   He didn’t have the heart to kill the little girl who had lost her parents. Instead, he would make her his little pawn to use.  

Larys had left Lyanna to grow up in Harrenhal and had let her take on the jobs that he had abandoned in favour of helping Queen Alicent.  Larys had no interest in who raised Lyanna, no care that his bastard sister had filled Lyanna's mind with knowledge of the old ways and made sure that Lyanna wouldn’t be anyone's pawn to use. 

In that time, Lyanna had grown into a literal strong woman—beautiful and kind, with long dark brown hair that would be kept down and Strong brown eyes.  Inheriting the typical Darry freckles, with her face covered in them, the number of dots on her skin would often cause Alys worry.  Lyanna had taken to wearing her mother's house colour of brown or a soft yellow rather than Strong Blue, wanting to distance herself from any part of her father.   

Larys had been surprised by Lyanna’s beauty when he had first set eyes on her on the King's Road, part of him glad that she had taken from her mother in looks rather than Harwin.  He would have difficulty if Lyanna towered over all the men and was taken from Harwin's stature.  

Lyanna hadn’t spoken much since Larys arrived and joined her in her carriage; she just kept her eyes out the window rather than on the cripple in front of her. 

“I think that the city and new environment will suit you well,” Larys spoke up, his voice slightly cracking as he broke the silence of the moving carriage.  

“Harrenhal is my home,  uncle,” Lyanna informed him, her eyes scanning over the people that quickly passed by.   “I much prefer being there,”

The news of moving from the beauty of the Riverlands to the capital took time to digest.  It was well known to everyone in the realm that the capital was a beauty to be held, but it stank worse than a newborn's first shit.  The streets of King’s Landing weren’t as bad as she thought they would be, half expecting people to be dead on the streets or at least begging for money.  Larys had ensured that Lyanna had entered through the Gate of the Gods rather than the Dragon or Old Gate so that she would be spared from the horrors of the Flea Bottom.  

Larys had insisted on taking some of the Kingsgaurd to escort his little niece to the safety of Red Keep, where she would be locked away until she found herself a husband or followed in her father's footsteps and be forced back to Harrenhal.  The Queen had been more than happy to allow the Kinggaurds to accompany them, mainly because that would mean that Larys might stay out of the Keep longer.   

“Being so far away from your family, from me, has allowed you to inherit your father's lack of respect and loud mouth,” Larys commented as he watched Lyanna look out the small window. He remembers when he first saw the city's wonders, so different from the Riverlands for the lack of natural beauty.  

Lyanna held herself back from rolling her eyes at her uncle's words, knowing that it would only make him lecture her about her attitude.   She leans closer to the window, trying to see the Great Sept of Baelor on Visenya Hill.  Lyanna doesn’t follow the faith of the seven, but she must admit the Sept is a sight to behold, the greatness matching the dead Weirwood tree of Raventree Hall. 

Larys tapped his cane on the carriage floor; he has never been good at talking with Lyanna.  He fears that she knows the truth about the fire of Harrenhal, but he highly doubts that the teenager would be able to figure it out all on her own and the only person who knew the truth is the Queen herself.  

“It will get easier,” Larys told her, hoping she will appreciate his attempt to soothe her. To bond with her. 

“The smell?” Lyanna asked, her nose scrunched as she finally looked away from her window and towards her uncle.  

The smell of King’s Landing is almost strong enough to make her stomach turn.  She is used to the natural smell of woods and even the dingy but warm smell of Harrenhal.  Lyanna wondered how someone could live here with such a smell, but maybe it was because they had never been exposed to true nature.  

Lyanna didn’t mean to disrespect her uncle, but she found it hard to look at him, not because of his crippled foot but because she wondered if he and her father shared similarities.  Her father will forever haunt her because she will always be left with the question of why she wasn’t good enough, yet his bastards were.  

“I’m afraid that never gets easier to deal with, but being a lady of the court.  Being here will allow you to mingle with potential suitors and bring honour and respect back to our house,” Larys answered her; he knew that Lyanna knew her place and that her role was to keep their family line alive.  

“So that's why I’m here?” Lyanna asked, leaning her head against the plush wall of the carriage. “So that you can find someone to marry me off to?”

Lyanna knew that she should be grateful for this opportunity, that any other girl, highborn or not, would jump at the chance to become a lady of the court.  If she were to find a husband, this would be the best place, but she would be content to live out her days at Harrenhal and let her House die out with her and her uncle.  Or even passing the title over to one of her cousins.  

“You have bled,” Larys simply answered because his words were true.  He has avoided trying to marry Lyanna to someone for quite some time because she hasn’t bled, but now he is free to do so, and she can give a man heirs like she was born to do.  

“And tell me, uncle, is Harrenhal to be included in my dowry this time?” Lyanna asked; it is a simple question, but she knows whether it is included in her dowry would impact her attempt to find a husband.  

If it were to be included, it might scare away any suitors North of King’s Landing, and the supposed curse of being the Lord of the castle might affect her chances.  But she would be more than happy to wed a southerner, to have the opportunity to travel far from the realm than just the Riverlands and a few castles of the Westerlands. 

“Your future husband and children will become lords of the castle,” Larys confirmed, and he watched Lyanna nod at his words.  He was happy to give someone else the title of Lord of Harrenhal, pass on the responsibilities he had long neglected, and allow Lyanna to take over.  

“Maybe we should consider marrying you off,” Lyanna joked, laughing to herself because she knew no lady would want to wed or bed her uncle if they were unpaid.  

“My focus is solely on helping our Queen and finding you a husband,” Larys calmly told her, not finding her jokes funny. “You and Princess Helaena have some common interests, and I think you two will get along.  The queen hopes you will befriend the princess,” 

“I heard that she isn’t quite there. Is it true?” Lyanna asked; it was no secret how strange the princess was compared to her siblings and husband.  Rumours that she is that way because of the customs of the Targaryens, and it is time that one of the current members is affected by their sins. 

“Princess Helaena is a little different, but she is kind,” Larys corrected Lyanna; he didn’t know what would happen to Lyanna if someone else heard her words.  No doubt the Hightowers would take offence to her words and make her the latest threat to one of their dragons. 

“I look forward to meeting her,” Lyanna ended the conversation as she looked out the window.  She is tired of looking at her uncle, and King’s Landing is a new and exciting place she wants to explore even though she probably won’t be able to.

Her words held the truth; she would be kind and respectful to the princess. Larys relaxed back into his seat. He hoped that Lyanna would flourish in the new environment and be able to further their family as the kingdom's leader. 

Taglist: If you wish to be added to taglist please comment so!

[tinfairies]

Tin's OCs

Clara Snow

14 at the start of GoT

Jon's twin sister and Theon's wife

One child with Jon named Eddard

One child with Theon named Lyanna

Her direwolfs name is Shadow

****************************************************

Danorlah Dynios "DandyLion"

24 at the start of GoT

A Braavosi Bard, actor, and conman, genderfluid and very charismatic

Many rumored lovers, most notable is Brienne of Tarth and Jaime Lannister.

****************************************************

Lucia Clegane

13 at the start of GoT

'Daughter' of Gregor Clegane

Transgender FtM, although he can't quite put any actual words to how they identify.

Sansa's lover

Has a hound named Beastly

****************************************************

Separate Universe

Achilles Targaryen

21 at the start of HotD

Baby brother to Viserys and Daemon

Rider of Patroclus "Fire Personified"

Alicent's secret lover, whom he has one daughter with named Pandora

Criston's secret lover, though it doesn't last long and ends mutually.

****************************************************

Separate Universe

Josephine Redwyne

19 at the start of episode 8 of HotD

Daughter of Lord and Lady Redwyne

Serious religious trauma

Helaena's lady in waiting and lover.

Larys' wife (she doesn't love him, though he loves her)

****************************************************

Separate Universe

Malys Maar

16 years old, 8 years after the Dance takes place and the Greens win

Son of Lord Maar of Braavos

Kidnapped and sold into the whore business and is bought as a gift for Aemond by Aegon.

Aemond's lover

Aegon's lover/victim

****************************************************

Separate Universe

Amalthea

48 as a dragon, 20 as a human at the start of episode 8 of HotD

A dragon turned human

Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond's lover

One child with Aegon named Maegor

****************************************************

Maegor

21 at the start of GoT

Beastly son of Amalthea

He embarks on a mission to become a full dragon to be with his mother again. A curse turns him to gold for 175 years until Gerion accidentally breaks that curse.

Gerion Lannister's lover

****************************************************

Separate Universe

Alucard Dagonhart

24 when turned, over 150 years old at the start of HotD

A Nosferatu with a rich history, and an oath to keep to the Targaryens

Rhaenys I lover

Aemond's lover

****************************************************

Periskevi

190 years old at the start of GoT

A nyad from the surface waters of Ironman's Bay

Monarch of the Nyads.

A devout follower of the Drowned God.

Euron's lover

[fromtheboundlesssea]

I'm curious what is your least favorite asoiaf pairing?

Sansa/Any Adult Man Who Trauma Dumps or Traumatizes Her (a literal child)

Jon/His abusers (Y+D)

Romantic Rhaegar/Lyanna

Alicent/Larys

Aemond/Luke

[feydrautha]

I live 24/7 in the larycent tag… How do you think an ongoing secret relationship (wether romantic or sexual) between the two of them would go? Or how it would work? What about public courting or a non-secret relationship? I know that one’s tougher but… Gimme your thoughts 👀

Larys totally puts the tools given to him as spy master, Lord Confessor, and also as a warg — yeah, this has been implied so much now and it would make sense since 1. In F&B we know very little of him to the point where it's likely he had a hand in that 2. It's not unbelievable that the Maesters would erase any mention of magic beyond to revile people and Larys is such an enigma that he was probably never on their radar — to good use to make sure no one finds out they are banging on the side, and if it weren’t for the fact that the entire staff has been whispering about the Queen having over the Lord Confessor on quite many days, it might really have been the world's best kept secret.

Alicent has gotten her whole public image of being the virtuous and pious Queen so that is her alibi. And, of course, given Larys's public persona as the quiet effeminate second son who wears pretty clothes, is certainly seen in a negative light because of his disability, and has never been able to do any traditionally masculine things, hell, part of the rumours might even be that he's not even into women and a "pervert".

But a public courting, in a world where she's not Queen and just Lady Alicent Hightower? Hoo boy.

They connect in a similar way they do in canon: both of them outsiders, ignored by the world - and Alicent in different ways, since she might not be Queen anymore, but she's still a popular bachelorette and the most beautiful maiden in the Seven Kingdoms!

Them actually being an item because they are on the same wavelength and feel good with the other would certainly seen as odd and no doubt they'd get a lot of pushback. Lyonel I see as very surprised that his "lesser" son and not Harwin has struck up a friendship with the Lady Alicent and that they fancy each other's company and not be against it but also fully aware that this shouldn't be — while Otto would feel it's an insult to him, his daughter, and his house, forbidding her to see him and maybe even purposefully arranging Alicent to get married to someone else.

But of course, Larys is far from powerless and could find ways for them to meet in secret, the fucking castle has a maze of secret passages, so its not like anyone can stop him at least?

They'd certainly be seen as Westeros's most unlikeliest couple so far, because of the perceived oddity of "Hottest Woman In The Known World" and "Lord Clubfoot The Hideous" and also because, what a shocking revelation, they hang out because they get along, not because there's an arranged betrothal!!! Relationships among high profile nobles in Westeros born from affection/love are comparatively rare and even those tend to end in tragedy (just think of Rhaegar and Lyanna), and god knows whether it could work out!

Larys has a hereto unknown plan that he sticks to, so it might very well be that we see Alicent pulling a Jaime/Criston and tells Larys they ought to elope so they could be happy in a place where no one cares about who they are and also gets rejected. Or maybe it works out just fine — whatever happens, we will always have fanfiction to play in our sandbox 🥲💖

[horizon-verizon]

ASoIaF Fandom Shipping (Romantic or Otherwise)

Canon, Confirmed Ships (Actually Occurs in Canon)

        - Alysanne & Jaehaerys Targaryen

        - Rhaena Targaryen & Elissa Farman

        - Rhaena Targaryen & Aegon Targaryen

        - Rhaenyra & Daemon

        - Rhaenyra & Harwin

        - Rhaenyra Targaryen & Laena Velaryon

        - Daemon Targaryen & Laena Velaryon

        - Lyanna & Rhaegar

        - Cersei & Jaime

        - Rhaenys Targaryen & Corlys Velaryon

        - Daenerys (Naerys’ Daughter) & Daemon Blackfyre 

        - Brynden Rivers & Shiera Seastar

        - Shaera & Jaehaerys Targaryen

HotD/Fire and Blood (the Dance) Ships

        - Rhaenyra and Alicent

        - Alicent and Larys

        - Aemond and Helaena

        - Aemond and Alys        - Aemond and Rhaena

        - Aegon (II) and Helaena

        - Aemond and Lucerys

        - Aemond and Jacaerys

        - Daemon and Nettles

        - Daemon and Aemond

        - Alysanne Blackwood (Black Aly) & Cregan Stark

AGoT/GoT Ships

        - Daenerys Targaryen & Jon Snow

        - Jon Snow & Sansa Stark

        - Jon Snow & Arya Stark

        - Brienne and Jaime

        - Daenerys Targaryen & Jorah Mormont

        - 

AWoIaF Ships

        - Naerys and Aemon

[hiddenwashington]

Anonymous asked: mw from got/hotd?

from game of thrones our members would love to see: oberyn martell, ashara dayne, arthur dayne, robert baratheon, gendry, podrick payne, bronn, ser davos, any of the sand snakes, loras, garlan and willas tyrell, joanna lannister, asha/yara greyjoy, renly baratheon, alys karstark, lyanna mormont, any of the other mormont sisters, maege mormont, jeor mormont, melisandre, tywin lannister, val the wildling, mance rayder, tormund giantsbane, gilly, samwell tarly, ellaria sand, quentyn martell, arienne martell, trystane martell, grey worm, shireen baratheon, aegon targaryen (martell), bran stark, rickon stark, brandon and benjen stark, any of the targaryens, the direwolves, rhaegal and drogon! from house of the dragon our members would love to see: criston cole, corlys velaryon, rhaeyns targaryen, harrold westerling, baela and rhaena targaryen, viserys targaryen, lucerys velaryon, ammena arryn, alys rivers, any of the dragons and larys strong! 

[ao3feed-tywin]

The Queen Omega

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/RVpjl2W

by 233cecile

Une nouvelle fanfiction sur Enya Snow

House of Dragon crosssover Game of thrones

Alpha / Oméga = âme sœur

Words: 181, Chapters: 2/?, Language: Français

Series: Part 2 of Enya Snow { Visenya Targaryen }

Fandoms: House of the Dragon (TV), Game of Thrones (TV)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: Enya Snow, Daemon Targaryen, Caraxes | Daemon Targaryen's Dragon, cannibale - Character, Ghost | Jon Snow's Direwolf, Ned Stark, Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen, Elia Martell, Oberyn Martell, Arya Stark, Sansa Stark, Robb Stark, Bran Stark, Rickon Stark (Father of Cregan), Rickon Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Davos Seaworth, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Varys (A Song of Ice and Fire), Daeron Targaryen, Aemma Arryn, Otto Hightower, Alicent Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Corlys "The Sea Snake" Velaryon, Meleys | Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon's Dragon, Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon, Laena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys), Night King of the White Walkers (Game of Thrones), Harwin Strong, Larys Strong, Lyonel Strong, Syrax | Rhaenyra Targaryen's Dragon, Criston Cole, Maester Aemon Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Dothraki Characters (A Song of Ice and Fire)

Relationships: Enya Snow / Daemon Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen/Original Character(s), Aemma Arryn/Viserys I Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen & Viserys I Targaryen, Aemma Arryn & Rhaenyra Targaryen, Rhea Royce/Daemon Targaryen, Alicent Hightower/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark

Additional Tags: Soulmate Daemons, Daemon Targaryen Has a Big Penis, Rhaenyra Targaryen Loves Daemon Targaryen, Aemma Arryn Lives, Alpha/Omega, Protective Daemon Targaryen, Possessive Daemon Targaryen, enya a besoin d'amour, Enya a besoin d'un calin

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/RVpjl2W

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 4.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 3.5k

please follow & turn on notifs for @huramuna-fics for my fic postings

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity

this comes from the inside - the living tombstone • oblivion - grimes

warnings: p in v, creampie

Being close with another person can be such a precarious thing. Not just in emotional closeness, but physical as well. 

Lyanna never much liked being touched, not even as a child. She would shy away from courtiers pinching her cheeks, from her mother’s outstretched arms, from her father’s heavy hand upon her shoulder. Being touched felt like a burden of sorts, as if someone expected reciprocity from putting their hands on another. 

She never wished to give it in return. 

Since moving to the Red Keep, she has changed— in more ways than one, of course. She quite liked being touched now by her good mother, Alicent’s touches were soft and warm. Mayhaps it was because the queen mother was there to hold Lyanna at her lowest, and she found some comfort in her arms that she never derived from her own mother. 

Then there was Aegon. His touches were… confusing. He seemed much at war with himself, like a stray dog wishing for affection, a scratch on the cheek or pat of the head, but didn’t know how to ask, how to convey he wanted it. His proposal to Lyanna of exchange of pleasure for nurture was a strange one, to be sure. 

It must’ve been the wine, that would be why she had said yes, wouldn’t it? 

Certainly not the fact that her husband seemed… jealous. Jealous of a Dornish prince putting his hands on her and making her laugh. Aegon, being the same one who had said she wasn’t a beauty that men go to war for. Aegon, who couldn’t even flow in the same atmosphere as Lyanna for weeks. Aegon, who fucked a whore the morning after their wedding and many days besides. 

That Aegon— was jealous? 

The notion of it seemed humorous to Lyanna, as if she held some great power over him, reducing him to his knees before her. 

All for a touch. 

In truth, it was more than just a touch. He had fallen asleep with his head in her lap, snoozing softly. Lyanna wriggled down, trying to get comfortable. As much as she detested Aegon, at least she thought she did, she didn’t want to wake him. Not when he seemed so at peace with his pathetic prize. 

He was a heavy sleeper. She managed to lay on her back comfortably and adjust his position to where he was strewn across her stomach and chest. Lyanna watched him for… who knows how long, being lulled into some sense of relaxation by his weight and warmth on her, coupled with his rhythmic breathing. He was like a living heavy blanket. 

Her fingers threaded through his hair, smoothing small circles upon his scalp absentmindedly, as she fell asleep herself. 

When she awoke, he was still there— albeit, shifted slightly. He clung to her like a second skin, his leg thrown over hers, his arms draped over her chest haphazardly, still deeply asleep. Lyanna’s breaths fanned over his hair, his head resting under her chin. Whatever spell she had been under the night before had (almost) worn off, the novelty faded. 

Gently, more gentle than he truly deserved, she roused him. “Aegon,” she murmured, “Aegon, it's morning— I must get ready soon.” 

“Morning…” he hummed drowsily, lips pressed to her neck unknowingly. “No… I will sleep more.” 

Lyanna rolled her eyes; it was like dealing with a child rather than a King. “Laze around if you must, husband,” she began to pry him off of her. “But I have duties to attend to.” 

“Duties can wait, wife,” he blinked, supplanting his chin upon her chest and looking up at her in a way that made her heart wrench. He looked Gods awful pathetic, like an abandoned puppy. “Stay longer, please.” 

“… I have things to see to, Aegon. I don’t wish for your mother to be cross if I’m late to break our fast together.” 

He let out a huff, rolling off of her. “May I at least stay until you leave?”

“I suppose. You can help dress me. Do you know how to dress a lady?” Lyanna asked, getting up from the bed to open her wardrobe. 

“Ehm— I know how to undress a lady.”

“My Myrish silk from last night begs to differ.”

“Well, you have too many layers, too many loops and ties. This is why whores are so much easier, they’re practically already naked.” 

Lyanna shot a glare at him. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t remind me that you frequently lie with other ladies.” 

Aegon came up behind her, a bit taller than her by a head, poking his nose into her neck. “Why? Are you jealous?”

She scoffed. “Jealous? Jealous like you were of Prince Qyle?”

“I don’t get jealous,” he grumbled, backing away from her and folding his arms over his chest. “I just don’t think it was appropriate the way he was touching you— like you were a whore.” 

“You love that word, don’t you?” 

“Mayhaps. I quite like other words, too. Slut, cunt, bitch— the list goes on.” 

“You’re truly an ignorant, beautiful creature, Aegon. It’s a wonder to me that you survived infancy.” 

“You think I’m beautiful?” 

Lyanna let out a snorting laugh, it was undignified and unladylike— but real. Even more real than the laughs that Prince Qyle evoked from her the night before. She stayed turned away, sorting through her clothes. The noise she emitted, raucous and loud as it was, made Aegon smile for half a moment. He quite liked when his wife laughed— and he had been the one to do it this time. 

Aegon ended up not helping her dress, as he took one look at the configurations of a corset and left. 

That was fine by Lyanna, in all truths. She descended to the Queen mother’s chambers and broke her fast with her, as was her daily routine. Somehow, in the middle of their eating, their conversation turned to the topic of sex. Lyanna didn't feel much embarrassment talking about most things with Alicent, as she was a good conservationist– but sex was one of the things Alicent was… hesitant to talk about, all things considered, and Lyanna wasn’t exactly an expert. 

Poking into her soft boiled egg with her spoon, Lyanna listened intently to Alicent.

“You’re the only one I would talk to such things about, dearest,” Alicent hummed, dragging her utensil through her own bowl of coddled eggs, “I never much liked it with… the late King. ‘Twas my duty, after all. I can only hope that, ehm, Aegon makes it less painful for you.” 

“... he does fine, I suppose,” Lyanna murmured, prying the soft white of the egg from the shell and balancing it on the spoon. “... truthfully, we haven’t…” she rolled her shoulders to enunciate her meaning, “Laid together in a way conducive to making an heir– not since the wedding night.”

The queen mother perked a brow, crossing one leg over the other. “So you are doing such things in… other methods?”

“Only once– last night, in fact,” Lyanna admitted softly, poking the bite of egg into her mouth, wiping away an errant drop of yolk from her lip– to which Alicent was watching intently– “After the banquet. Was Aegon… jealous as a child?”

Alicent cracked a small smile, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not sure that he was jealous in the way that some may think. He wasn’t so much envious of what others had that he wished to covet, but rather what others were, comparatively to him. Rhaenyra was his father’s favorite, Aemond was the better swordsman, Helaena more beloved by my father– he was always the odd one out.” she blinked profusely, picking at the hem of her sleeve. “Why?”

“He… followed me to my chambers after the feast and started spewing heinous accusations about Prince Qyle and I.” 

“And this… led you both to the bed?” Alicent took a long sip of her tea, her eyes not leaving Lyanna’s. 

“No– my boudoir chair, actually.”

The queen mother’s cheeks reddened softly. “Oh my– I cannot say that’s something I experienced. Was it… pleasurable at least?” 

“It was certainly enlightening– that he may not be as useless as I thought,” Lyanna paused. “That I may not be as repulsive to him as I thought I was.” she spoke a bit quieter then, the subject still tender to her, a wound not yet fully scarred over.

“It’s his blood.” Alicent replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“His… blood?” 

“The blood of the dragon– Targaryens have dragon’s blood in their veins, which runs thick and hot when situations become… precarious. It may be any sort of situation that might give you or I an adrenaline rush, good or bad– but for them, all my children included, it’s like igniting the spark to a wildfire. Some sort of primal, uncontainable thirst for… whatever it is that spurred them. For Aegon… he quells his blood with wine and whores,” Alicent frowned slightly at the notion, the corners of her eyes crinkling into a silent apology, “Jealousy could very well be one of the things that whipped him into a frenzy– mayhaps you should use such a thing to your advantage? Of course, I won’t condone adultery, my dear– but the illusion of interest in someone else may have Aegon more… inclined to lay with you.” 

Lyanna sniffed slightly, putting down her empty egg shell. “I wish he would just want it without me having to… set him on fire, or however it’s put.”

“Men are– for the lack of a better word– stupid, Lyanna. They are blind to the things they need the most.” 

–

Lyanna spent the rest of her week planning on how exactly to make Aegon jealous. She didn’t really understand how to put on such airs of that extent– acting confident was one thing, but feining attraction for another person was different, wasn’t it? She didn’t consider herself a massive flirt, either.

They sat in the dining hall, entertaining a visiting lord from the Reach, some Tyrell or Redwyne or other, who promptly gave Lyanna a bouquet of beautiful flowers. She was delighted at the gesture, not because she really enjoyed them, but because it would be easier to start her ruse. 

“Oh, thank you, my lord– these are gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous,” she hummed. She was wearing a green dress that, somehow, matched Aegon’s deep green tunic that eve. “How did you know that sunflowers were my favorite?” 

“Ah, your grace, the sunflower is my favorite as well,” the lord smiled heartily, chattering on and on about sunflowers. “It very much reminded me of your radiance, my queen.”

His audacious compliment earned a warm giggle from Lyanna, her face blistered with a blush– half of the blush was from real bashfulness, as she wasn’t used to receiving such compliments. She knew it was false, of course. She was more reminiscent of a plain dandelion than a sunflower.

The dinner consisted of Lyanna talking to him, making much smalltalk and overall, talking to him more than she’d talked to Aegon in their entire marriage. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her husband practically stewing, rolling around a brussel sprout around his plate with the tip of his knife, an inhuman heat blistering off of him in waves.

Apparently, to Aegon, enough was enough– his hand slipped from his goblet of wine, drenching the front of Lyanna’s dress. “Ah– my dear, I’m so very clumsy,” he crooned, “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” 

Lyanna nodded slowly as her husband looped his arms around her and led her out of the dining hall. She murmured some apologies to their guests, citing that they would return soon. Aegon led them down a corridor, not far from the hall, into a closed off enclave, where he closed the door. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grumbled, spinning her around so that her back was pressed against the stone wall in the close quarters of what was basically a servant’s closet. “You’re egging me on purposefully.” 

Tilting her chin up defiantly, she spoke nonchalantly. “I have no idea what you’re speaking of, husband, truly.” 

Aegon gave an unamused expression, his mouth wrought into a thin line. “I’m not even that drunk and I could plainly see you letting that… absolute peon of a Lord come onto you.” 

“So? He fancies me and gifted me a bouquet of flowers– I don’t see anything terribly wrong with that. It isn’t unheard of to pay homage to their queen, is it?” 

His hand shot out, gripping her chin and jaw. “I don’t– You– you’re so fucking frustrating!” he growled, raising his voice. Their noses were touching from their proximity, their breaths intermingling. It was the closest they’d ever been.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway, to which the both of them froze. They came past the closet, then descended back down the corridor.

“This is scandalous.” Lyanna murmured.

“How? We are husband and wife, simply having a chat.”

“We are the king and queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not… animals– I’m sure that anyone who opened this door would see you… pinning me against a wall. I’m not sure much could be left to the imagination there, Aegon.”

“You really should get the stick out of your arse, wife.”

“Mayhaps it would do better up yours, then?”

“Careful, I may actually enjoy that.” he grinned, the expression lighting up his usually solemn face. Lyanna considered him quite handsome at that moment. 

“You’re vulgar.” she quipped back, biting down on the soft part between his thumb and forefinger gently.

A sound akin to a breathy moan came from Aegon’s mouth at her bite. “And you call me an animal? You’re fucking biting me, you cheeky minx.” 

“Yes? Well, if you are to drag me to your level– we are both animals then.” she stared at him with wide eyes and she wondered if he could feel the beat of her heart. It felt like it would abscond from her body at any moment. Her heavy chest fell and rose in weighty breaths. 

“That lord is quite wrong, you know,” Aegon whispered, his lips dangerously close to hers– they hadn’t kissed since the wedding ceremony, and even then it was a quick peck – his mouth quirked into a smug grin. “You aren’t a sunflower. You’re a sweet little rabbit. I quite like rabbit, you know. They’re delicious, succulent,” he paused, leaning forward and speaking against her lips, “Tender.”

It was unsure who closed the gap first, but their lips fused together into a ferocious kiss. They both tasted of a deep, rich wine. It was a fight of tongues and teeth, a battle where they both wished to devour one another– Lyanna’s hand tugged at his white curls, nails scraping against his scalp as he held her face in a vice-like grip, as if he was afraid she would dissipate from his clutches at any moment. His lips were soft, surprisingly, where she had expected them to be rough and chapped. His skin pressed against hers and the slight growing stubble upon his cheeks tickled her in kind, her lips perking into a smile as they kissed. 

The once silent closet became a cacophony of small sighs and gasps from both the king and queen. Aegon’s free hand trailed to the small of Lyanna’s back, resting right in the divots above her bottom, his fingers splayed out in exploratory fashion. His repose was short lived, as he grabbed the fleshy globe of her arse, emitting a pleased hum of surprise. They parted for a moment to breathe, as it was wholly necessary– if they hadn’t needed to breathe, they wouldn’t have parted at all, reveling in one another’s taste for hours.

“I forbid you to cut my dress, Aegon,” she whispered in a playful warning, staring at him with a look that couldn’t be described as anything else other than fondness. “I refuse to go through these halls with my garment sliced to shreds.”

“But you love it, don’t you? You quite liked it last night.”

“Aegon.”

“Fine,” he acquiesced, his hand retreating from her face to unbuckle his belt. The light of the closet was dim, close to none– the soft flickering of the sconces outside of the corridor bleeding in through the cracked door. She couldn’t see what he was doing, really, but she heard the soft grunts coming from him as his fist slid against his length. Giving her ass a playful squeeze, he used his other hand to ruck up her skirts, the pad of his thumb swiping down her underclothes. “Lovely.” Aegon practically purred, hooking his finger and sliding the wet garb down her legs.

The air was cold against her bare sex, causing her to shiver. She chased the warmth of his body as he adjusted himself, parting from her closeness for just a moment, making her all but whimper. 

They didn’t need words, despite their new trend of back and forth quips– and it was nice to not have to say anything. She let him take the lead, as he was more experienced than she. His legs were between hers, keeping them open as he glided his member between her folds, gathering the wet slick that had been ruminating since they came to the closet, then he slid into her. Lyanna stifled a gasp, the sensation still so unfamiliar– it wasn’t painful like before, as she was prepared for it now, but it was a feeling of stretching she wasn’t used to. 

Aegon, in turn, huffed a moan into her neck, murmuring something in broken High Valyrian under his breath. He sheathed himself to the hilt inside of her, resting both hands on her hips, which had the perfect little clefts for handles, he noted. He didn’t move right away, savoring the warmth and tightness of her, squeezing around him like she was all but made for him. 

“P-please,” she whispered, so quietly, into the shell of his ear.

He set a wonderfully slow pace, which only sped up with each kiss they shared, their tongues mingling and dancing to the soft sound of Aegon’s heavy stones smacking up against Lyanna’s core. Their cacophony became a full on symphony of wet, slapping noises, coupled with their borderline obscene sounding kissing as they moaned into one another’s mouths.

 It felt like something of newness for both of them as Aegon’s thumb came up to circle at her clit– Lyanna was experiencing a fullness and indulgence in having her husband slotted in her so deliciously. Aegon was experiencing something akin to euphoria at the fact that he was fucking someone who wanted him, whom he did not pay, and was not doing so out of duty. He had been a bit hesitant on the latter at first, but there was no way in the Hells that she was faking such debaucherous, beautiful little moans. This was sensual ecstasy and closeness that they’d both never felt before in their lives. 

Lyanna’s whining became more pronounced as Aegon’s attention on her clit came to fruition– she clenched around him like a vice, feeling a small dribble of wetness soak around his cock. This act alone brought Aegon to his own completion, the wetness of her slick now mingling with his seed as he spilled inside of her, deep enough to hopefully take root. He bit onto the lobe of her ear gently as he came, whimpering. 

Lyanna quite liked that sound– of her husband whimpering into her ear as he emptied himself. It made her put both hands on each side of his face and kiss him again– but soft, like his little whimpers. It wasn’t something born of lust, but something completely different. Something that they both really couldn’t name yet.

Coming down from both of their highs, Aegon quickly situated himself back into his trousers– but not before reaching two fingers to his wife’s folds and pushing back in the seed that threatened to leak from her.

“Aegon,” she keened, dangerously close to overstimulation as he gave a cheeky flick to her wrought-over clit. “E-Enough– too much…” 

“I couldn’t resist,” Aegon chuckled as he pulled her undergarments back up, snug once more against her. “I don’t suppose we are returning to dinner?” 

“Gods– I don’t think I can. I am still reeking of wine and I won’t be able to look them all in the eyes when we come back looking as if the cat just ate the canary.”

“Or the dragon ate the rabbit?” 

“... I am sure I can feign sickness just one time– what do you think? Mayhaps we should retire early tonight.” Lyanna flattened out her dress.

“... we?” 

“Yes– we.” 

“We as in… me and you? In the same room? Together?” 

“That is what ‘we’ means, Aegon.” 

“... I suppose I could be convinced.”

–

They did indeed retire early that night, but not before going for round two, then three. A thoroughly fucked out Lyanna rested in bed, her body riddled in hickies of Aegon’s doing, her fingers tangled in his hair. She was well and fast asleep, Aegon noted. 

He loathed to untangle himself from her– she was so nice and warm and soft… but something inside of him nagged. Something broken and heinous tugged at his humanity, willing him to get out of bed and dress, donning his usual thick black cloak.

Off to the Silk Streets. To sate the broken parts of him and to quell the incessant nagging within his head.

Your fault, your fault.

[wearelondonhq]

mw from got/hotd?

hi, dear! some most wanted that we would love to see here would be jon snow, arya stark, sansa stark, bran stark, rickon stark, robb stark, talisa, catelyn tully/stark, ned stark, lyanna stark, jorah mormont, daario naharis, cersei lannister, jaime lannister, tyrion lannister, tywin lannister, joffrey baratheon, robert baratheon, myrcella baratheon, tommen baratheon, oberyn martell, ellaria sand, the sand snakes, sandor clegane, missandei, samwell tarly, euron greyjoy, theon grejoy, yara greyjoy, olenna tyrell, margaery tyrell, stannis baratheon, rhaella targaryen, joanna lannister, brienne of tarth, renly baratheon, loras tyrell, grey worm, davos seaworth, shireen baratheon, rhaegar targaryen, gendry baratheon, barristan selmy, ashara dayne from game of thrones and from house of the dragon, please bring us daemon targaryen, otto hightower, viserys i targaryen, alicent hightower, aemond targaryen, aegon the elder targaryen, mysaria, laena velaryon, baela targaryen, rhaena targaryen, rhaenys targaryen, qarl correy, aemma arryn, harwin strong, corlys velaryon, ser criston cole, larys strong, laenor velaryon, joffrey lonmouth, jacaerys velaryon, joffrey velaryon, lucerys velaryon, lyonel strong, viserys ii targaryen, cregan stark, jason lannister, aegon the younger targaryen and ser harrold westerling, just to name a few!

[genz420]

Beauty of Scars & Flowers - Chapter 3: The Spark of Love.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part

It had taken some time to get used to the rancid smell that admits from Blackwater Bay, but Lyanna would happily deal with the smell if she got to spend some time with the lovely Princess Helaena.  The two girls had more in common than they had been expecting, and it seems that the Targaryen princesses get along rather well with the members of House Strong. 

Finding a match had proven harder than she thought it would be.  There were a few suitable men she could see herself spending the rest of her life with and having children with.  But for the most part, the men of the court were staying clear of her, no doubt the curse of her castle streaming them away.  One that stood out amongst the rest was Ser Alan Tarly, the first-born son of the current Lord of Horn Hill, so not only would he be the lord of his own home, but also Harrenhal and Lyanna would stand to a rather handsome husband that has a long history of sons and also becoming the lady of Horn Hill.  Alan had shown great interest in her, giving her flowers, and no doubt he would soon ask her uncle to begin the courting process formally.

But there was one man that, unfortunately, Lyanna could not get out of her mind.  Since the few words they had spoken to each other in the castle Godswood, Prince Aemond had secured a place in her mind.    She knows that her thoughts are improper and are something that she should get under control before it gets out of control, but she can not deny the quicking of her heart when she spots him in the halls or the throne hall.  Her hands become sweaty, and heat rises up her neck when she tries secretly to steal glances at him.  

Lyanna is fortunate that no one has spotted her doing so yet, but no doubt if they did, they would just chop it up to another lady of court fawning over the handsome prince.  

Lyanna and Helaena would often spend their free time outdoors, whether in the gardens open to the people of the court or even the royal gardens that Helaena would ramble on about.  The gardens had proven to be Lyanna's favourite place in Kings Landing so far, the smell of nature that remedies her of her home, of nature.  

The small and cozy seating area in the royal gardens is an excellent getaway for them both, for them to enjoy each other's company in silence or talk about the latest gossip that is making its way through the castle.  

“I heard the Lady Westerling swooned when Ser Randyll passed her in the hall today.  That she did so because she was trying to make Ser Jason jealous. After all, he has been negligent in courting her,” Lyanna informs Helaena as she watches the princess before her.  

No doubt, if Larys could see Lyanna now, he would scold her for being so relaxed in front of the princess.  Lyanna had made herself comfortable on the small couch, leaning back with her hands resting on her stomach.  

“I find it rather sweet, the dance of courting,” Helaena says, focusing more on the embroidery wheel and the firefly she is stitching.  “I wished that I could have gotten that, to have someone express interest in me like that,”

Helaena never got to experience a proper courtship; betrothed to her older brother Aegon and quickly married him.  She enjoys watching the soon-to-be Lords and Ladies of the Court as they steal quick glances at each other, wearing their soon-to-be partners' Houses' colours or even the latest fashion from their region.  

But the part the Helaena yarns for the most is the look that they have in their eyes.  Something that she had only seen from Aegon when he came to her chambers late at night after one too many cups of wine.  The look she does not know the name of but wishes oh so badly to experience herself. 

“If you want someone to give you flowers, My Princess, you could have asked.  I would happily fill your room with flowers of love and beauty,” Lyanna tells Helaena; it is true.  Lyanna would do anything to see a smile on her princess's face, and if filling her room with flowers would do it, then so be it.  

“Like Ser Tarly has done for you?” Helaena asks, noting how Lyanna more aggressively flattens the skirt of her dress.  The princess watches as Lyanna's eyebrows pull together and her lips form a small line, her eyes video of the spark that many Ladies have when mentioning their possible future husband. 

But just as quickly as Lyannas's face tensed, it relaxed.  

“Exactly,” Lyanna answers, smiling as her hands flatten her dress.   She must admit that it does feel nice to have someone interested in her, even if it was to gain the once-great Harrenhal.  Lyanna can also admit that talking to someone so freely is nice.

“Haven’t even been here for long, and already is there someone interested in your hand,” Helaena comments as she pulls her needle through her embroidery wheel.  “I was hoping that you would stay longer here,”

It was nice to have someone outside her small family to spend time with.  To have someone listen to her without judgement as she discussed her interest and have a response.  Sometimes Helaena even thinks that her own mother doesn’t truly enjoy her company, but Lyanna is different; she does not yet wish to part with her.  

“Ser Tarly and I have spoken a few words with each other, and I don’t even know if my uncle would approve of the match,” Lyanna tells Helaena, her words more directed towards herself than the princess.  

Lyanna's sole duty in this life is to produce the next generation of House Strong.    

“House Tarly is from the first men like my family, so that is a positive,” Lyanna tells Helaena, trying to sell the idea more to herself.  It was a good point and one she would bring up with her uncle if he disapproved of the match.  

“I think someone of Valyrian descent would be much better suited for you,” Helaena tells her, not noticing how Lyanna's head snaps towards her.

“Like Ser Vaemond Velaryon son?” She asks, unsure what Helaena means.  There are only two houses she would even consider marrying that came from Valyrian descent. Her house was already a strong ally of house Targaryen, leaving only house Velaryon.  

Helaena doesn’t answer Lyanna, looking away from her stitch and behind Lyanna, standing as straight as her needle is Aemond, his one eye trained on the back of Lyanna's head.  The lady, unaware of Aemond, waiting for Helaena to answer, but once she realises that something behind her has captured her friend's attention, she turns around to see what it is.  

Lyanna has never stood up from a seated position so fast.  Her mind races with everything that she had previously been doing, if the prince had heard their conversation, and if he did, how much had he heard.  It was in the princess's every right to be in these gardens, these were the royal gardens, and Helaena had assured her that it would be okay that they would keep company there.  

Aemond had been there long, only catching the end of the conversation between his sister and Lyanna; he must admit that he is rather curious about what they had been discussing beforehand.  

He had been told that Helaena was in the gardens, and after stopping by the Godswood, he thought he might spend some time with her.  Aemond had not been expecting Lyanna to be keeping his sister company, even if his mother had mentioned that the two were spending time together. If he had known that he would be seeing Lyanna today, he would have brought a book that he had found in the library for her.  

Ever since the two had made company together, he began to notice Lyanna more and more.  Whenever attending court; he would notice as she takes small glances at him, or how she would potentially wait and listen to other ladies of the court, or whenever she walked with her uncle; her steps would be slower than her usual pace.  Aemond blames the soft yellow dresses she would wear; of course, she would stick out amongst the Green and Targaryen Reds and Blacks crowd.  But Aemond still notices her when she wears the few darker shades of dresses she owns.  

“Brother, please sit,” Helaena tells Aemond, her attention going back to her work as Lyanna bows her head down to Helaena and Aemond.  

Lyanna is more than happy to leave the prince and princess alone, thinking she might inform her uncle of the news of a possible suitor and future betrothment.  The fact that she doesn’t seem to be in control of her thoughts when around the prince is also a factor in her eagerness to leave. 

“My Lady Strong, no one has asked you to leave,” Aemond stops Lyanna as he sits on the bench she was sitting on. “Sit,”

The tone is commanding, and Lyanna knows she should listen to the prince before he has to repeat himself.  She highly doubts her gods could save her from the flames of the mighty Vhagar.  

“I just thought that I would leave you two.  I wouldn’t want to intrude, My Prince,” Lyanna tells Aemond, her hands folded together in front of her.  Everything she had learned about proper adequate is running through her head, and she can’t help but silently pray that she does nothing to upset the prince before her. 

Aemond keeps his gaze on Lyanna.  Today, her hair was pulled back into a bun with framing strands.  A more Southern style and the other ladies of the court were starting to influence her fashion choices.  Aemond can’t help but wonder if she will soon wear Hightower Green like many other ladies or if her beautiful yellow dresses will continue to bless his day.  

“I am the one intruding; I simply wish to enjoy the company of you two,” Aemond tells Lyanna, his hand motioning to the spot she was once in. 

Lyanna nods and brushes past Aemonds legs, sitting down, but unlike before, she is not relaxed.  Her back is straight, her hands folded in her lap as she holds her head high.   She can’t help but feel like prey under Aemond's gaze, like if she makes any slight movement, he will snap.  

But Lyanna couldn’t be further from the truth; yes, Aemond's gaze is intense as he takes note of the lady sitting beside him, his thoughts consumed with what Lyanna put into her bath water to make her smell so good.  

 “We were talking about Ser Alan Tarly,” Helaena tells her brother, not noticing Lyanns pleading eyes, not to mention what they had been previously talking about.  “He has begun to court Lyanna,”

Aemond isn’t surprised to hear about Ser Alan's intentions. Every new lady of the court gets greeted by Ser Alan.  But this time, he can’t help but wonder if this lady would be different if Ser Alan had also been taken with the beauty of Lyanna. 

“Flowers are a common gift, and they don’t mean that we have started to court each other,” Lyanna says, gently rubbing against the stitchwork on her dress.  She doesn’t know why she is trying to justify that Ser Alan and her are not courting; even if these were the beginning steps, she feels the need to deny any such relationship in the prince's presence.  

“Not just any flowers, Dusty Roses with Pink Lilies.  Tell me, what do they mean again?” Helaena asks her friend, not caring to take note that Aemond has looked away from Lyanna and towards her.  

“Dusty roses can represent affection, and lilies have many meanings that change with the colour.  But pink lilies are often associated with love,” Lyanna informs Aemond, Helaena nodding with her words.   “But there are so many different meanings, so who knows what his true meanings are,”

“He has also asked her to accompany him to the Kingswood,” Helaena tells Aemond, not caring that such things were said to her in confidence.  

“An invitation that I will be turning down,” Lyanna reminds Helaena, not daring to look to the prince at her side.  

“Why?” Helaena asks, setting down her work as she looks at Lyanna.  

“There is no one to escort us, my uncle wouldn’t be able to keep up with us, and I don’t think he will allow anyone else to chaperone us,” Lyanna answers; she knows that Larys trusts few in the Keep and would not want her reputation to be put into question.  

“Ser Tarly's sword fighting skills match that of a Kraven,” Aemond's voice sharply contrasts Lyannas and Helaenas.  His sentence is rushed, as if he didn’t get them out fast enough, then they would harm him.  

Both Helaena and Lyanna look towards the prince, Lyanna with a confused face as to why the prince would be insulting a knight, and Helaena is fascinated with the sourness in Aemonds voice. 

“I thought he did very well in the last tourney,” Helaena says before returning to her stitch work.

“A tourney isn’t a good judge of a man's skill,” Aemond responds; he had seen Ser Alan Tarly train many times in the training yard, and he can’t help but wonder how such an unskilled fighter could start to court the likes of Lyanna.  

“So what is it? Should I hire someone to fight him in the street, My Prince?” Lyanna asks with a smile as she tries to imagine Ser Alan fighting a hired sword in Flea Bottom. 

Aemond looks to Lyanna; any tension there when she first sat down is gone as she had her conversation with his sister, and now a smile graced her freckled face, and her shoulders were no longer tensed than they were when she first sat down.  Part of Aemond had thought he was wrong about Lyanna, that she, like many others, thought his scarred face was an ugly sight and made her scared.  But for many, just being in the presence of two royals that made her slightly worried.   

“Or you could accompany me to the training yard, and I can show you his true lack of skill,” Aemond offers, and Lyanna can’t help but drop her smile.  

“A tempting offer, but I should return to my uncle,” Lyanna informs Aemond as she stands up, bowing her head to the siblings. “My Princess, My Prince,”

Lyanna is much faster leaving this time, leaving Aemond no time to tell her to stay and for them to continue their conversation.  All the one-eyed prince can do is watch as the soon-to-be Lady of Harrenhal quickly leaves the scene.  Perphase, he should not have been so formal with her or insulted Ser Tarly.  

But he can change nothing now. Just wait for the two of them to have another moment together so that he might be able to apologise for his words and attitude.  He could even chase after her now, but maybe enjoying the company of his favourite sister would change his mood.

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