#prince aegon x you

[toms-cherry-trees]

Safe In Your Arms || Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary:  There is only one person whom the Prince can find comfort with

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, lactation kink, mommy kink, p in v sex, handjob, edging and denial (m receiving), overstimulation (m receiving), implications that Aegon was beaten as a child, Aegon being a sad little meow meow, minor character death,

Author’s Note:  First time writing Aegon y'all!. But this idea had taken root in my brain and had to be delivered. Thank for to my lovely honorary wifey @aemondsbabe for brainstorming with me and giving me the seal of approval at an ungodly hour. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @fairysluna

The embrace catches you by surprise, a pair of strong arms circling your waist and a nose nuzzling your neck, inhaling deeply the scent of your skin. A large hand cups the round weight of your breast, clumsy fingers unsuccessfully trying to undo the buttons of your servant’s dress. The other lays flat against your belly, pushing your body flush against the prince standing behind you. You try to halt his movements, eyes darting around the nursery to ensure your privacy, even though you knew the children have gone out to the Godswood with the Queen and Princess Helaena. Still, you need to make sure no prying eyes will come across you two. You will not be the first servant the prince laid with, nor the last, but gossip would spread nonetheless if Aegon is found being so amorous with his children’s wetnurse.

He has already opened the first two buttons when you decide to stop him, gentle but firm fingers holding his own and pressing his hand against your heart. A small groan of discontent escapes his lips, and you can picture the scowl in his face without looking at him. He complies and abandons his efforts, but doesn't let go of your body, keeping you caged on a grip tighter than usual. You two linger like that for a few moments, surrounded by a comfortable silence. You could stay like that, but you know that something particularly bad has to occur for him to seek you during the day and with such desperation.

“My Prince?” You try to crane your neck to lay eyes on him, but he only groans again and buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing featherlight kisses to your flesh. You feel dampness on your skin, like tears dropping slowly from his lashes.

With a bit of struggle you turn around, still trapped in his arms. You try to make him look up but he refuses, hidden into you like a cranky child. Over time you have learned how to read him, as easily as an open book laid out before your eyes. He has his way with words to brazenly flirt, jest and argue, but never to express his feelings, especially when they overwhelm him. He just tries to show with actions what his mouth refuses to say. 

Tenderly, like you would do to one of the children in your care, you force him to look up and meet your gaze. Red rims his eyes, violet pupils glossed over with unshed tears, the imprint of a slap still fresh and inflamed upon his cheek. You need not ask to know he has once more been caught in an altercation with his grandsire and mother, one in which he stood no chance. He never has a chance against them and the great plans they have for him, plans in which he has no say nor desire.

“Go to your bedchamber” You murmur quietly, two fingers pressing against his lips to stifle the protest that has already formed “I will be there shortly.”

Begrudgingly he drops his arms, quietly exiting the nursery, shoulders slumped and gaze downcast. You quickly finish your current duties, instructing another maid to cover for you as you make way to his chambers as discreetly as possible, excuses ready upon your lips should someone question your presence away from the children. But no one looks at you twice amidst the hustle and bustle of the Keep, and you find his door unguarded and unlocked.

Aegon has already thrashed the bed in a fit of anger, the blankets scattered around it while he lays under a sheet, still fully dressed and shoes still on. He clings to a pillow like a child to a beloved toy, although by the way he does it, so tight his hands touch his own arms, you think he is trying to actually hug himself, give himself some of the love he rarely got. You sit by his side, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He takes your hand, fingers tight around your wrist as he brings it up to his face, pressing your soft palm to his reddened cheek. He closes his eyes, and you notice yet more tears beading on his lashes, and the characteristic wobble of his lower lip. 

“Let’s get you comfortable, yes?” Soft tone and gentle words, a speech used many times before with him. You have been there a plethora of times with him drunk, hungover, crying, covered in spilled wine and his own waste. And time after time you have cleaned him, changed his clothes and dried his tears. You have snuck his soiled sheets and clothes to the laundresses, since you know his maids report his every word and action back to his mother, and you want nothing more than to spare him to the best of your abilities from his elders’ wrath.

Some nights he clings to your body desperately, his fingers digging on your hips as he begs you to stay. And you comply, unwilling to pile more sorrow on him and incapable of denying anything to those wide, sad eyes. 

He doesn’t say word, but you don’t need any to heed his call for help. You undress him easily, unbuttoning his doublet and undoing the laces of his breeches, leaving his clothes carefully folded on a nearby chair, the boots neatly by the side. When he remains in only his linen shirt and smallclothes, you put the bed together around him, tucking the sheets and smoothing the blankets as you quietly sing a lullaby, the same you use to put his twins to bed every night. It has the same calming effect on him as it had on them; the soothing of your voice halting his tears and making him relax his posture as he lets himself be cared for and pampered by your tenderness. 

Once he has settled comfortably, you lay by his side. Aegon immediately scoots closer to you, his head burrowed against your bosom and one arm draping around your waist. You trace his swelling cheekbone with featherlight touch. Whoever has slapped him has put quite a lot of anger into it, most likely his grandsire. It is not the first time things have gotten physical between them, and most certainly not the last. It seems the Hand thinks he can beat his grandson into the Prince he wants him to be.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Aegon often chooses to seek comfort and just push his problems to the back of his mind, but you still encourage him to voice his woes. More often than not he prefers to remain silent, but you always offer him the space to speak freely and without consequences should he want to. To know he won’t be judged or chastised, and he will only be met with the tenderness he deserves.

Long seconds linger in absolute silence before his voice breaks through, weak and constricted “They have found me a bride”

You only nod, not needing to ask more. Ever since Aegon’s first wife had passed, scarcely 3 nights after the birth of their twins, his grandsire and mother had pushed him to pursue another wife, a lady from a strong House to garner their support when the time came. Originally his mother had wanted him to marry Helaena, to strengthen his claim to the throne, but then the King intervened. The only time he put his foot down instead of letting his council rule on his behalf, and he did it to betroth Aegon to a branched out lady of House Velaryon, while promising Helaena to Aemond. While the siblings’ marriage flourished, Aegon found himself tied before the Gods to a woman he couldn’t love, to the extent it took 6 years for them to conceive, and she only lived enough to name them. 

At your silence, Aegon clings tighter to your body, his freshly blossoming tears dampening the front of your dress “I don’t want to, they can’t make me” His sniffs, and you notice him pressing his lips tightly together to force himself to be quiet.

You shush him, smoothing back his damp hair “You have to, sweetling. You are a Prince, and you have duties to your mother and family” Your words make him tense again, fisting your dress as he exhales loudly through his nose. 

“I have no duties, I am not the heir, I am just a failure they are stuck with. I’ve done everything they wanted of me, and still my mother won’t ever look at me with pride” Another conversation had one and a thousand times. As the firstborn male, all eyes turned to him when the King’s health began to fail, and even though he still lingers, he hangs only by a very fine thread. And the Hand has everything prepared to land the crown upon his own bloodline, whether his grandson wants to or not. And he most certainly doesn’t want to. 

You don’t argue, knowing that any attempt of contradicting him would only circle you back to the same arguments. You only let him speak, let it all escape his chest. But he has few words that day. There’s not much to say that has not been said already.

“Father never loved me. Grandsire only sees me as something at his disposal to use at convenience. Mother does not love me any more than what she is obliged to” His eyes meet yours, wide and adorable and terribly sad “I only have you. Just you. If they make me marry I won’t let you go. You cannot abandon me” His words carry an urgency and fear you hadn’t heard on him before. A deeply rooted terror of losing the only person who has not touched him with violence

You press tender kisses to his forehead, your touch gentle and warm “You will always have me, sweet boy. To the end of times. If they send you to the end of the world, I will be right behind you, taking care of you. If they put you on the throne, I will be at your feet as your most loyal servant”

Those reassuring words coax a smile out of him, a smile only meant for you. It is not often these days that Aegon is seen smiling, only in rare instances when he is with his children or with Sunfyre. All the others are reserved just for you. 

Another comfortable silence lingers between you two, eyes locked with one another as your fingers card through his blonde tresses, his breath becoming a little sharper every time you accidentally tug on a knot. His hands snake up your front, stopping just in the curve of your breasts as he waits for your permission. You easily undo the very first button, allowing him the pleasure of doing the rest. 

It takes him no time to have the front fully unbuttoned, pushing the fabric away to reach the object of his desire. The dazzled look he gets on his face whenever he stares at your bare breasts never fails to amuse you, as if he is staring at the most wonderful thing the world has to offer. His lips quickly find home around your perked nipple, releasing a satisfied sigh as he suckles at your milk, his hand cupping the free breast and massaging it lovingly, swiping his thumb over the hardened peak. You let out a content sigh, settling comfortably on the pillows as you watch Aegon nurse enthusiastically, barely stopping to breathe. 

It had been after one of his many nights out that he first found comfort that particular way. Smelling of cheap perfume, even cheaper spirits and covered in vile things you didn’t wish to identify he had returned, and once more you had been by his side, putting his broken pieces back together and trying to not let his cracks be seen by the world the next morning. His hands had roamed your body, as they often did, a touch you glady allowed; he had never once done one thing you didn’t let him do, not even while being so deep in his cups he couldn’t say his own name. He had rested his face against your bare chest, inhaling deeply the musk of your skin while he toyed absently with your breast. A sharp pinch to your nipple had coaxed out some droplets of milk, which he collected on his thumb and brought to his lips. He repeated the process several times before crossing eyes with you, searching your face for any sign of rejection, but you only smiled and helped him get comfortable in your lap as he latched onto your breast for the first time. Nothing could quite calm him like that afterwards.

The prince at your breast lets out small sounds of satisfaction and content sighs as he grips your flesh tenderly, massaging it to coax more of the rich liquid to come down. At first you think he is relaxing and perhaps close to falling asleep, but then you notice his free hand down his body, palming his erection over the sheet. His teeth graze the engorged bud of your nipple ever so delicately, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, accompanied by a growing dampness between your thighs. You rub them together discreetly, seeking some form of friction as you continue to watch Aegon clumsily touch himself, trying to balance his need for pleasure with the attention he is lavishing upon your tits. 

His whines take a desperate edge while he humps his own hand, his movements faltering since he doesn't know where to focus. Instinctively your hand moves slowly down his torso and under the sheets; you gently push his away and wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few tentative pumps.

“Do you want Mommy to take care of this?”

Both of you stop for a moment, eyes wide, and he even drops your breast in shock. He had very occasionally called you ‘mommy’, mostly ironically when you had ordered him around, or more intimately when you did certain things like tug on his hair or grip him a bit tighter. But you had never used the term that way, and by the way his cock throbs in your hand, the idea excites him as much as it does you. You give him a firm squeeze, making him jump on the bed

“I asked you something, sweet boy. I taught you how to use your words. Do you want Mommy to take care of your problem?”

Aegon swallows visibly, eyes still wide. His lips move rapidly, but no sound comes out other than a pathetic mumbling as he tries to unscramble his brains. He finally gives up and just nods, looking up pleadingly. But you don’t cave in and give him a firmer squeeze, earning a whimper from him

“Words” You say firmly, but without sounding too harsh. You don’t want to take him too far and make him scared. But you are also deeply curious on how far you can take this little jest. 

It seems to take all his strength to push out every word “Yes Mommy, please” He sounds so small and defenceless, bordering on innocence. If you didn’t know him much better you would believe him a man that has rarely laid with women. 

Encouraged, you stroke his hard cock slowly, swiping your thumb across the leaking head to gather the already forming drops and smearing them down his length. Aegon’s hands are everywhere, on your face, on your breasts, on your shoulders, pushing the rest of your dress out of the way to free more of your skin. He grips your hips, squeezes your thighs, seeks in your body an anchor to life as his face scrunches in pleasure. His breaths become ragged and you see his abdominal muscles tensing as he approaches climax. But as soon as you feel the familiar twitching you let go of him, your hand resting on the curve of his thigh. 

His eyes shoot open and he half sits, staring at you with a mix of desperation and indignation. He whimpers quietly, shifting his hips to try and get under your delicious touch again, but you slap his thigh gently to keep him still.

“No moving. Mommy is taking care of you and you don’t move unless I say so.” Your tone is low, whispering the words as you press your forehead against his, gazes locked on each other. The black of his eyes has widened, making the purple seem darker, and the tears have dried at last. All that remains is lust mixed with submission, all of it just for you.

You gently caress his stones, watching in amusement as gooseflesh spreads across his skin at the touch, his legs instinctively spreading wider to grant you better access. You trace your index up his length, following the path of the throbbing vein prominent on the underside of his cock, while he fists the sheets, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You lean down to kiss him, letting him drown his moans against your welcoming mouth when you finally pump him, keeping the pace steady.

Again you stop just seconds before he reaches climax, earning an even more desperate whimper from him.

“Mommy, please, it hurts, I want to-” His words are cut short when your free hand takes hold of a fistful of his hair, just enough to feel the pull in his scalp. The moan comes from the depths of his chest when you brush your lips against his ear.

“Are you a good boy? A good boy for Mommy?” 

He nods eagerly, his hands cupping your face to keep you close.

“I will be good Mommy. Please, please it hurts” His eyes gloss over, and his lower lip trembles again. He looks so pretty you struggle in your heart to carry on with this little game, even though he seems to enjoy it. And you are enjoying it too, so much you feel is unfair you are missing out on the best part.

You pull away just enough to drop your dress to the side, your smallclothes following suit. With Aegon flat on his back, it is easy for you to straddle his hips, letting the head of his cock snuggle in your slick folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when you rock your hips, gliding the heat of your cunt along his length. You take a slow pace, dragging out the moment as much as possible. But while you are in no rush to finish, Aegon is in a desperate hurry, pushing against your hips and mewling desperately to urge you on. When he tries to grab your hips you smack his hand away and lean in, so close your breaths mingle. 

“Stay still, sweet boy. You don’t want Mommy to get angry and leave you like this, do you now?”

“But Mommy” He pants heavily, beads of sweat gathering in his temples “I need it, please. I will be good. I need to be inside you. Please” 

You click your tongue, a smirk pulling at your lips. You smooth back his hair and press a kiss to his hairline, an almost soothing touch.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. But you have to keep being good and do as you are told, sweetling. If you are extra good, Mommy will let you spend inside her” 

With that promise in mind, Aegon does his best to stay still, but you don’t make it easy for him. The rhythm is tantalisingly slow, coming to a halt every time you or him get too close to climax. His desperation grows to uncharted levels, fingers digging on the mattress, fists so tight on the sheets his knuckles turn white, lip bitten so strongly between his teeth it leaves an imprint. Tears bead in the corners of his beautiful eyes and roll down, dampening the sheet underneath. When you stop for the umpteenth time and a sob racks his chest, you know he’s ready.

You sit back on your haunches and watch him carefully. His hair is toussled from how much he has trashed on the bed, his face puffy and tear streaked, the flush of his cheeks spreading down to his chest. His cock is angrily red and leaky, impossibly hard and coated in your juices. Every muscle on his body is tense like a bowstring ready to fire. You touch his taut abs, rubbing the aching muscles soothingly.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. You deserve your prize” 

The moan he releases as you line his cock with your entrance, sinking slowly until he is buried to the hilt, has surely been heard throughout the entire Keep. Encased in your tight heat, it takes no more than a few rocks of your hips for him to peak, back arching off the mattress dramatically as he screams his release to the vaulted ceilings, painting your walls with his spend. But you are not quite there yet. You continue to ride him, now at a dizzying pace, chasing your own release. His whines reach a new high, having barely time to recover from his groundbreaking climax. His abused cock is almost too sensitive to touch, and the drag of your cunt around him feels like fire climbing up his spine; the most deliciously tortuous fire. 

Your hips and thighs begin to ache from the exertion, but you are so close, and seeing your sweet Prince so ruined it's definitely spurring you on. You shift your angle just a bit, so the head of his cock brushes against a certain spot inside you that makes you feel like you can touch the stars, all while your fingers circle your neglected pearl. It takes no more than a few thrusts before you climax, your walls tightening around him and somehow drawing out a second peak from him, even though you are sure he doesn’t have much more left to give you. You ride out your release, halting only when the burning on your thighs becomes too much to ignore. 

You slide off and lay next to Aegon, who appears to still be waiting for his soul to return to his body. His eyes are wide, some stray tears still rolling, his breaths heavy and slow. When he whines quietly and turns to you, you reward him with a sweet smile and a tender, brief kiss upon the lips. Aegon snuggles into you, just like he likes it best, his face buried in your cleavage as he catches his breath. You rub his back in slow, soothing circles; he closes his eyes, his lips seeking and finding your nipples once more

While he suckles you lean closer, tracing his features with your fingertip

“You were such a good boy. So good for me. Mommy is so proud of you” 

The gentle praise goes straight to his heart, that much you can tell in the way he hugs you with his entire body and the upward turn of the corner of his mouth. You know he is tired, and perhaps his body is urging him to sleep. But to do that he needs one last little nudge

“Mommy will always be with you, my sweet Prince”

[vsnyarbll]

Pillow talk between Aegon II and his wife

(drabble)

words: 877

warning: explicit language, fluff

You were lying top off Aegon. His arms were around you. His eyes were closed, but you were sure he wasn't asleep- he was playing with your hair. 

Your head rested on his chest, and your hand gently caressed the side of his body. 

It must have been past midnight already. 

The only light in the room came from candles that were almost out. Even the moonlight didn't shine in through the open windows. 

You felt happy to have him. You kissed his chest, and Aegon began to run his other hand along your arm. 

You'd had a long evening. Aegon's hard kisses had softened- he didn't want to hurt you. 

You tried to think of something else as your mind drifted again to the way he had kissed you and held you all night long.

You wanted more, you always did when it came to Aegon, but you weren't sure your body could take another round. 

"Aegon?" you said calmly.

Aegon didn't open his eyes, but he murmured. 

You focused on the first thing that would take your mind off Aegon's body and... his cock. 

"Do you think fishes drink water?"

Aegon's hands stopped moving over your body. "Fishes?" 

Your question was clear. "Yes?" You said.  

"Isn't it... meal?"

You lifted your head from his chest and looked directly at his face. He had opened his eyes. Aegon was looking at you with an expression that said he wanted more, too.

"Aegon, they are animals."

Aegon raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

It was hard to believe he was a prince who had been taught lessons for as long as he could remember. 

"Animals? Then I think they drink?"

You threw your hair back. "Water?"

"No, my love, wine."

You patted his chest and laughed. 

He watched your laugh with a crooked grin.

Since you married, it was always difficult for him to wait for night during the day. He would want to go to his room and feel every inch of your body again. He would want to hold your chin and tell you to open your eyes while you closed them in pleasure. He would want to feel his body tremble every time you moaned his name.

He never wanted the nights to become days. You were the only thing that made his life better. 

"What?" you said with tired eyes and a smile as you watched him looking at your face. 

Aegon's smile grew. "Nothing." 

He loved you. 

He was afraid to love you. It scared him to put you at the center of his life. 

But he loved you deeply. 

He didn't want someone to fix him. And you didn't want to fix him. He would never be an ideal prince like Aemond, but neither of you cared.

You two were the most compatible couple of the seven kingdoms. 

He was thankful that he had a life to share with you.

He even thought of going to the Sept with his mother. 

While his mother thanked the gods for their health, he would kneel beside her and thank the gods that you had accepted him into your heart. And... that he could fuck you every night. 

He kissed your cheek firmly. "Let's sleep. I'm worried that if you don't get enough sleep, you won't be able to speak properly tomorrow."

You muttered something under your breath and buried your nose in his neck. 

"And make sure you rest. I don't want Daeron to make fun of us again if you can't walk tomorrow." He said, unable to stop laughing. 

You blushed and lightly pinched his arm. "Like it's my fault." 

Aegon placed a kiss on your shoulder. "Of course, it's your fault! I could have kept my hands off you if you weren't so delicious." 

You lifted your head from his neck.  

When Aegon saw your flushed face and strand of hair sticking to your forehead from sweat, he stroked your cheek. 

Contrary to what you expected, he didn't say anything to embarrass you again. 

“I've never loved anyone as much as I love you.”

a/n: I love him so much you don't understand

[thewriterwithnoplan]

THE HIGHEST TOWER (1/2)

Summary: As a Princess of the Realm the chance to escape political marriage and abscond with your Promised was beyond anything you could wish for. When the time is right, your dragon will lead you to them and your mother will support your union. In return, you must do all you can to protect her claim, even if you must do so from within the very heart of the Greens.

Soulmate AU: Your animal familiar leads you to your soulmate.

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader (eventual), Aemond Targaryen x Reader (mentioned)

Word Count: 4296

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, just general character awfulness, some espionage, canon divergence, my first time writing for hotd.

Masterlist

You had lived the better part of eight and ten years in the Red Keep. The daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen handed off to the Queen like some paltry trinket. The King’s first and final word on the matter of his granddaughter. Thrust carelessly into Alicent’s care at the fresh age of ten, a peace offering and a trade for Lucerys’ life. You scarcely remembered life beyond the borders of the castle. Only that one moment your brother's life had been under threat and the next yours was all but forfeit.

Your mother had clasped the back of your neck, pulled you toward her and begged her father for mercy. You who had not even been in the room when Aemond had lost his eye, lost to your own midnight flight atop dragon back. And then the curtain of Rhaneyra’s hair parted, and from over her shoulder Daemon met your eyes. For a single poignant moment, he stared and then a smirk broke across his face as if he knew.

Knew that you were not the innocent that your mother would have the King believe you to be. Knew that your midnight rendezvous with your dragon at the exact moment of Vhagar’s claiming was not mere coincidence. Your intentions had been innocent at first. A trip to the kitchen for a cup of milk which you would warm on the stove – a feat the late Sir Harwin Strong had taught you. Past your brothers’ room, your mother’s room, the servants' quarters and a balcony overlooking the beach. And then you had seen him. Aemond scaling your cousin’s dragon. And that just wouldn’t do.

Targaryens – true Targaryens who did not cower under the cover of darkness – needed their dragons if they had any hope of finding their Promised. Your cousin, Baela who always shared her sweets and let you borrow her wooden sword, deserved the chance to meet her Promised in the wake of her mother’s death. The man or woman that Vhagar would lead her to when the Old Gods saw fit. In the game of thrones when Targearyens already found so few chances for happiness, how could Aemond strip his cousin of her chance at true love? True, as an eldest daughter Baela’s future husband was most certainly decided – likely one of your brothers. But you were certain that Jacaerys or Lucerys would be understanding and gracious when the time came for Baela to claim her Promised, as she would be when the time came for her Lord-Husband. Such was the way of things. At least for the lucky.

Imagining your dragon, Laesuvion, claimed by another and leaving you with no guide to your Gods-given Promised made you feel ill. And so, you set out on bare, hurried feet to find and mount Laesuvion. You were a Targaryen born of the blood of dragons, of true Valyrian features. Vhagar was your cousin’s dragon by right and it was your duty to protect that claim. She was a formidable, indomitable beast but shackled with a new rider on his first flight. If you had one chance to disrupt the yet fragile bond being formed by dragon and rider, it was to dislodge the green boy and send him toppling toward the sea.

Laesuvion had hatched for you in your cradle. He was much younger and smaller than Vhagar but all the faster. It would be no trouble to fell your traitorous cousin. The difficulty became disguising the shock of white scales along the elongated arch of Laesuvion’s neck whilst searching for Vhagar’s camouflaged breadth.

“Aderī Laesuvion. Dokimarvose.” (Quickly Laesuvion. Focus.) You urged him.

Despite your efforts, you only caught sight of them twice. Once among the clouds, though you were sure Aemond got a greater view of you than you did him. And again, as Vhagar was returning to land Driftmark. Your hunt had been unsuccessful. But you had been sure no one would suspect you of such vengeful intent toward your uncle. Except perhaps Daemon.

“It is a fair price, Rhaenyra,” Daemon’s smirk was cunning, “They will not harm her.”

The betrayal on your mother's face heated your blood. How dare he tell her what to do? Your mother, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne. This man who was no one, husband of no one, Prince of nowhere, heir of nothing. Who was he to command your mother? And now, to step toward you and attempt to pry you away from her. So close you could almost-

Almost hear the two of them whispering. To each other. To you.

“Think.” Daemon hissed, “They will demand her for Aemond sooner or later.”

“She is my only daughter.”

“She will still be your daughter in the Red Keep.” He kept up the pretence of fighting your mother, despite her arms having gone lax around you. “Not a bastard. Not a bargaining chip. Your daughter. At the heart of the greens.”

“She is a child.”

“A Targaryen child.”

“She is my child.”

“Then let her prove it.”

“Mother,” You warbled. “I don’t want to go.”

“Tala.” Daemon shifted, and his eyes met yours again as if you should know this word. You did not. “You will go. Make your mother proud. Learn at court. Find those who support her claim and those who will side with the Hightowers. You are weak and a girl, they will not suspect you. When the time comes you will be our most valuable weapon.”

“But I want to go home, Kepa.” (Father or paternal uncle)

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Rhaenyra held your face and brushed away your tears. “You will.”

“’Nyra.” Daemon warned.

“But not today.” She kissed each of your cheeks. “Today you must be strong for me. You must be strong for your brothers. You must do as Daemon says, we must keep them happy.”

And then your mother pulled you toward her firmly, pressed her lips to your ear and whispered a promise. A reward should you embark on this mission. Beyond sweets and silk dresses and extra time on Laesuvion. Beyond anything you had ever been promised or ever dreamed of asking for. Do this for your mother and she would exempt you from the chains of political marriage that would shackle each of your brothers. There was no guarantee you would be lucky like your brothers, married to one who would understand. But do this and you could have your Promised under the eyes of the Seven, the Old Gods, and the traditions of old Valyria itself. Even at 10, you knew that for a Princess and a second-born, there was no greater boon.

So, you did what you had to do for your one shot to truly be with your Promised. You squared your shoulders, kissed your mother's cheek, and stumbled toward Queen Alicent. She gripped you by the shoulder, tucked you into the folds of her skirt, and stared cruelly down her nose at your mother.

“Now I will have no more fighting.” Said the King and having satisfied his wife for the first time in their long marriage, he ambled off to bed.

As the crowd dispersed, Sir Criston Cole flanked the Queen and as a unit, the three of you marched from the room. Your mother, scarcely held together in Daemon’s embrace, gave one last warbling cry as you passed the threshold and disappeared, not to be seen again for nine long years.

You were kept that night in the Queen’s own quarters to thwart rescue or escape. Behind a bolted door and no less than three kings’ guards. And yet, that morning, upon waking with puffy eyes from silent tears and aching limbs from the harsh sitting room sofa, you found something that had not been there before.

A gift from Daemond, most assuredly, tucked under the pillow you had slept on. The handle was perhaps an inch too long for your small age, but the blade was curved and wicked sharp and would require little finesse to cause harm. Inlaid in the pommel was a single ruby, the size of your thumb and wonderfully smooth. Carved into the cross-guard flowing Valyrian script read valar morghūlis. (All men must die.)

You would call the dagger gaomilaksir, duty. You would carry it as a reminder of the promises you and your mother had made one another. One day, as Daemon had said, you would become her greatest weapon.

There had been few bright spots in your life as the Queen’s ward. So, few in fact, that you could count them on one hand.

One.

You could not fly. Such a thing would only encourage escape back to Dragonstone and your mother. But you could visit Laesuvion and watch him sweep through the clouds. He had grown much in your teenage years. Still lithe in build and elegant in frame, but more angular like an arrow strung tight. He did not take to Kings Landing, not in all your years trapped there. So used to the comfort of Dragonstone and your family’s own dragons, he often abandoned the Dragonpit entirely. Kept tethered to the Keep by your presence alone.

“Where is Laesuvion?” You were just shy of ten and two when you approached the Dragonkeeper Acolyte.

“Hunting, my lady.” He knocked his quarterstaff against the ground. “He flew north not three hours ago.”

“Do you not offer him food?”

The keeper lowered his head, “He refuses it, my lady.”

“Offer him better.”

“We give him our very best, lady. He is a magnificent but stubborn creature.”

“He is a dragon, not a creature.” You conjured up a playful grin. “And I am a princess, not a lady.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” The Acolyte blustered, “Shall I inform you upon his return?”

“That won’t be necessary,” You strode to his side and plunked yourself down to lean against the stone entrance. “I shall wait for his return here.”

And so, you did. Silently, for the better part of twenty minutes as the Acolyte threw furtive glances your way.

Until finally, “Truly, my lady. Your Highness. He could be hours still.”

Wonderful. You thought and cast a dazzling grin up at him. “Perhaps you ought to keep me better company then.”

And so, you began your mission. You charm the Dragonkeepers – Acolyte and Elder, all seventy-seven of them – who knew the princes and their dragons, their strengths and weaknesses. You befriend the maids, the scullery, the wet nurses, and the servants they bunk with. Piece by piece, inch by inch, you win back your mother's share of Kings Landing.

Two.

Strange though she was, your Aunt Heleana always welcomed you into her chambers. In your shared youth, she always had a critter clutched between her hands as if it were the most precious thing she owned. You are four and ten, a year younger than your aunt when she is forced to split her time between her menagerie of insects and the chubby masses of her twin babes.

“The young prince has lungs,” You smiled at Heleana as the wet nurse rocked a wailing Jaehaerys. “He will make glorious speeches when he is grown.”

“Only one.” She examined the creature in her hands. Today she favoured a centipede, passing Jaehaera onto you.

You had long since learned to ignore her ramblings, “The sweet Princess must be the wordsmith, then.”

“The fourth in an age.” Heleana startled as if only just noticing your presence. “Apologies, Hāedar. You wished to speak?” (Younger female sibling or cousin)

“No apologies necessary, Mandia.” (Older female sibling or cousin). The Valyrian word tasted foul. You had your own siblings on Dragonstone, those whom you had been stolen from and those whom you had yet to meet. But Heleana liked it when you pretended that you were not a prisoner, that you were her mother’s daughter and not her forcibly attained ward. And so you swallowed it with a smile, “Might we talk privately?”

Heleana startled again as she turned to the wet nurse. “Take the children to the nursery, Bria.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Bria gave an awkward curtsy, shuffled the still-wailing Jaehaerys to one side and received Jaehaera from your arms. Heleana turned to you expectantly as the trio disappeared through a side door.

“It is a sensitive matter I am afraid,” You eyed the centipede as it escaped her hands and crawled across her skirts. “I do not wish to cause offence.”

Heleana’s eyes pinched at the corners, “It is not such a terrible burden – to be a wife. Mostly he ignores you.”

“You misunderstand me,” You hurried. “I only wished to speak of your grandfather.”

“Not my brother?”

“Do you wish to speak of your husband?”

“No,” Heleana gave you a quizzical look. “I speak of Aemond, who will be your husband.”

“Aemond?” Your uncle who’s selfishness had trapped you here. One of Alicent’s precious children married to her living doll. The thought would have been hysterical were it not so frightening. Surely not.

“It is the natural progression of things. I was given to Aegon and now you to Aemond.” Heleana’s attention returned to the centipede. “One pairing to strengthen our house, another to mend its bonds. So says grandfather.”

“Oh Mandia. I am entrusted to your mother. There need be no marriage to bring me into the fold. We are family.” 

“Yes. So says mother.” Heleana stared. Not so blind as she seemed. “But grandfather always gets what he wants.”

And so, you are four years into your mission, having sat patiently by the Queen's side. Having listened and learned and noted those your mother can count on. Four years in and the time to begin quietly making moves had arrived with a head start from your oblivious Aunt.

But then you see the centipede crawl from her hands again and writhe across her skirt. And you think maybe Heleana’s warnings have more to do with where the critter is trying to lead her than it has to do with you.

Three.

It took you longer than you would like to admit to worm your way into Otto Hightower’s confidences – if there were such a thing.

You had quickly learned in your first year at the Keep that Alicent feared her father, distrustful of his greed and power lust. Not much unlike yourself, she had been sent into the greedy hands of a different house in pursuit of the Iron Throne. Were Otto not so blinded by his ambitions you might have begun to worry that Daemon’s strategy might ring familiar. But Lord Hightower’s strength was also his greatest weakness. So careful in his scheming, gently coaxing his will unto others, moving his pawns about the board, sacrificing all but himself, he could not see his tactics turned against him. Beyond your connection to Rhaenyra, you barely registered as a piece in the game.

Daemon had been right. Weak and a girl and not a threat. Not yet.

So, you worked tirelessly to endear yourself to Alicent. Just as you learned from her, you began to teach in turn. When you are in the room Otto Hightower dares not spin his lies about succession. When you appear around corners in search of your Queen-mother talk of hastening the king's condition ceases. When you are near, Alicent is safe. She begins to wear you like the expensive accessory you are, a decorative shield.

Hours trailing your Queen-mother to and from meetings of the small council, waiting patiently at her side as she sat in place of the King. Serving wine to fat and foolish lords.

And then finally, on the eve of your ten and fifth nameday, the Queen brings you along to the Hand's Tower.

“Father.” She greets.

“Alicent,” Otto brings you to his office, where a tea set for two lays steaming. “I see you have brought your shadow.”

The Queen barely glances your way as you serve her tea and then her father’s, before retreating to stand at her shoulder. She glares across her father’s desk, “This does concern her.”

“She is approaching her fifteenth year, two since her first blood. Time has well arrived for her to marry,” He stares directly at you then, “Have you any fondness for your uncle, Princess?”

“My lord, the Princes and I are often kept busy by our duties.” Your friends among the servants have divulged their schedules. You stay firmly away from drunken Aegon and selfish Aemond, remaining civil only with young Daeron.

“You must see reason.” Alicent implores her father. “They hold no affection for one another. Aegon and Heleana have already wed in the name of strengthening our family. To marry her would serve only to anger Rhaenyra.”

“And to bind her eldest daughter to us.” Interesting that he would say so openly in front of you. Perhaps you have been more effective in playing a Green than you had thought. “Aemond will be a good husband to her.”

“I have no doubt,” Alicent says and as silence stretches you suspect she is losing conviction; you have not saved her this time.

You clear your throat delicately, “If I may?”

“Of course, sweet pet.” Alicent reaches out to fuss with your hair. She likes it long and keeps its length to your hip despite how cumbersome it can be. Short hair is unbecoming, she claims.

You look to Otto in false deference, “My lord?”

“Very well.”

“I think,” You begin carefully. “Aemond and I may be of better use to you.”

“And how might that be?” He is condescending but you have his attention.

“When the time comes that grandsire passes on, I suspect the lords of the realm will need cause to back a claim to the Iron Throne. My Septa says that peace such as we have seen under his rule may bring unrest. I do not doubt that Aemond will make a fine and just husband. All I mean is that mayhaps it would be wise to keep us unwed until we may serve a greater purpose.”

No mention of your mother nor their ill-begotten plan for Aegon. Hightower's methods played against him.

“And when the time comes you will do this?” He demands.

“It is my duty to my house.”

He tilts his head as a predatory bird might. “You must swear it, to myself and to your Queen, upon your young brothers.”

To pause would mislay your ruse. To hesitate would be to sign your life away to Aemond Targaryen.

“I swear it, upon the lives of my brothers.”

He considered you for a moment, and then his daughter.

“You have done well with her, Alicent.” Your Queen-mother sighs as Otto Hightower stands. “Enjoy your tea, I have matters to attend to elsewhere. Perhaps you will be of more use than we originally suspected, Princess.”

Your first true victory. You will not be shackled to the Keep; you will be kept safe until your mother comes for you. Until such a time that you and Laesuvion can seek out your Promised.

Four.

The Queen held a strange fondness for you. Platinum-haired and purple-eyed, the spitting image of the Realm’s delight and perhaps the only trueborn among your siblings. She took pains to brush and braid your hair, dress you in green and flout you at court. Her perfect tamed Targaryen. Who would eat from her hand, take tea by her side, sit prim and silent as her Queen-mother decorated her. You were her walking-talking glimmering triumph over Rhaenyra.

At ten, Alicent’s obsession stole you from your mother. At ten and four, it protected you from a hasty marriage. And now, at ten and eight, it was your path to freedom.

“Mother?”

Oh, how Alicent loved it when you called her that. One more thing ripped from Rhaenyra’s thieving hands. Alicent pushed into your room with a tired facsimile of a smile and took the seat across from you by the roaring hearth.  

“My sweet pet.” She was dressed head to toe in full regalia. “I am so sorry to have missed you today.”

You tucked a piece of scrap paper into the book you had been reading, buying yourself time to school your features into innocent confusion. “As am I. My door has been locked. I am sorry I could not come to you.”

“A precaution – one that I fought.” Alicent reached for your hair, running her fingers through its length. “But we cannot trust you to betray your mother. Regardless of the years you have spent in our care.”

“I do not understand, mother.” But you do.

“Your grandsire is dead.”

You close your eyes, “Aegon is king.”

“Yes.”

“You did not wish for this.”

“I wish Viserys were still a living corpse. That he would outlive us all so that none could claim his cursed throne. Not Aegon. Not Rhaenyra. Not my father.”

“That is not a solution.”

She tugs at your hair harshly, “Foolish pet, there is none.”

You blink harshly. Your eyes scarcely holding back tears. For the first time since you left your mother's embrace, you are truly scared. No longer are you the meek girl who walks in the Queen’s shadow. Given liberties and protection in a twisted echo of her love for Rhaenyra. You are a living embodiment of what House Targaryen will be to House Hightower. A pretty little puppet kept from your dragon, cloistered away like some trophy, scrambling for a scrap of power to delude yourself that you have some control.

“What is to become of our house?” You whisper.

“Your mother and Prince Daemon remain on Dragonstone. No blood has yet been shed.” Alicent brushed your hair softly behind one ear. “We have sent Aemond to Storm’s End to do as you once suggested. To offer himself to one of the Baratheon girls, that Lord Borros might see reason and acknowledge Aegon as rightful King.”

Good, there were those beyond the Keep who remained steadfast and loyal. It was time to return to your mother, then. To tell her all you had learned these last eight years. To name her allies and set Daemon loose upon her foes. Now was the time.

“What of my brothers?”

Alicent leant back, “Scouts have spotted Vermax flying north likely as an envoy to rally support among the lords.”

“How could they have mobilized so quickly? Was Aegon not crowned mere hours ago?”

“He was, indeed.” Alicent’s gazed into the fire. “The Lady Rhaenys was not so welcoming of solitude as you have been.”

“She has gone to Dragonstone?”

“She has.”

“And no one has come for me?”

“They have not.”

For a moment you each stared listlessly into the hearth. When Alicent shifts back to face you, she has a letter clutched in her hand. It is crisp and of fine quality but most strikingly, stamped with the King’s seal.

“I am under no delusions,” Alicent says softly, mournfully. “You can no more contest your mother's claim than I can Aegon’s. We are matching pieces in this game, I think.”

Your fear swells, “Mother.”

“Please, my sweet girl.” She smooths the hair atop your head. “You must do me one last favour as my ward.”

“I don’t understand.”

She presses the letter into your hands. “Jacaerys will fly first to the Vale, to treat with House Arryn and then to Winterfell. You will take this and beat him there. You will do as you swore to do those years ago.”

“I ca–”

“Listen!” She jerked you by your shoulders. “You must listen. You will wed Lord Stark. He is as fine a match as any. The north is loyal to Rhaenyra and will remain steadfast, you will be well treated. You must go, with this missive from the King, his final wish to send you north to snow and safety. In return for your hand, they will take no part in the fighting, they will protect you as their own, until such a time that the victor is crowned. Do you understand me, pet?”

“The King never cared for me.” You said foolishly.

“And yet, with his dying breath, he spoke of you and of Aegon. That you would carry his legacy, that you would see out his dream to the North. That Prince Aegon was Promised to this kingdom. You must believe me. You must do this for your grandsire.”

“I do believe you mother.” She was deluded. “I will do what must be done.”

Alicent has offered you one gilded cage for another. You will not be fool enough to fall into this one. You will find Laesuvion and be gone in the dead of night. You tuck the King’s missive into your book and smile at the Queen.

“Shall we call for tea, mother? You have much to tell me. I hear I have missed a coronation.”

Five.

You shape your fifth and final joy as the Queen Alicent’s Ward whilst escaping her clutches. You take three sharp detours on your path to the Dragonpit. First, to the chamber of the small council where you snatch the King's ball of quartz, you will make a gift of this to your mother. Then to the creche where the Keeper’s turned a blind eye as you pilfered three precious Dragon eggs. Finally, you find yourself ascending the steps of the Lord Hand’s Tower. To take the Dowager Queen from the Greens would be the greatest gift to your mother and her cause. But Alicent, despite her many faults, had been as kind to you as one might be toward a favourite pet. And so you do as a pet would – you do not bite the hand that fed you. Instead, you do both your Queen-mother and the woman that birthed you, a favour. You find Otto Hightower asleep in his study and you pass onto him your final gift from Daemon Targaryen.

You leave gaomilaksir in the heart of Hightower as you flee north, your duty complete.

(Part 2 : The Winter Keep)

[fan-goddess]

Helloooo love! I'm a fan lurking in the dark with a request idea for Aemond x Reader. Would love to see your take on Aemond trying to win Reader back (his wife) after she found out about Alys. Maybe this happens after the "Dance" , Aemond survives and they have to deal with the aftermath of Alys. Reader loved him with everything she had so she feels betrayed and turns cold to him and maybe because of Alys, something also happened to her (idk lost pregnancy perhaps but PLEASE exclude this if you don't feel comfortable writing it). Basically take everything you find interesting from this request and work your magic - I trust you like no other!!! Thank you I send you all the love there is - you are very very talented and please know there are many like me that think you are truly brilliant, I know it!!! :*:*

Authors Note: Oh my god thank you this is so freakin sweet! 🥺 I’m happy to take the request and spin my take on this, hope you enjoy it! :)

Also, some of the stuff Is made up like the time between Daemons death and end of the war. I don’t know it so I made it up. If you don’t like it take it up with my dms

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Cheating, miscarriage though it’s not explicit, she’s kinda depressed? Not sure how to describe it,

Taglist: @blue-serendipity

The Sequels: The Depressive one, The happy One

—————

If Aemond ever regretting not killing anyone throughout the war he technically started, most would’ve immediately assumed that he wished he never killed his nephew. Though they were wrong. Yes, Lucerys’ death became one of the many causes of the war and in turn deaths of so many people, but his death didn’t result in the loss of you and your child.

Alys’ death could’ve though.

When he first met Alys, he had been nearly immediately enraptured and enamoured by had. She was quite different to you. While you had always been headstrong and never afraid to tell Aemond what he needed to do or to be, Alys had been more docile and had no issue in telling Aemond all the things he wanted to hear.

He regretted the first time he laid with Alys in his bed. Though that regret went away the more time he spent with her and the more times he laid with her. He begun to think of possibly taking after Aegon the conqueror, thinking he’d have both you and Alys by his side when Aegon most likely drank himself to death.

That fantasy was soon ruined when he got that letter.

Dear Aemond,

Do you think of me as a fool? I know about that fucking woman Aemond. I know about Alys. I don’t know why you have decided to betray our marriage and honestly, I don’t think care I can bring myself to think about it nor care anymore. This letter was originally going to be happy. A letter letting you know what we prayed near everyday from the seven had finally come true and been answered. I was with child. Our child made purely of what I had thought was love. Though that changed when I was informed of what you had done. I mourned for what we could’ve had. I cried and refused to believe it at first, though soon I came to my senses. Yet it was too late. Our child is dead Aemond. I woke up a few days ago to heavy blood staining our bedsheets. The child was barely two months according to the maester. I wish for you to know it is your fault Aemond. I do not wish to ever see you again. I wish to never hear from you so if you attempt to reconcile or send a letter I will pay for our child’s blood with your own. You have dug your grave Aemond. Don’t try and dig it deeper. If you are to die in battle, I hope it is painful. I hope you suffer like I have.

From, your wife

From your former wife

Aemond had felt his heart plummet to the floor when he read that letter. He could not stop the tears that fell to the floor and stained the letter he still was holding. The ink blotting and staining the page so much the words were becoming near illegible.

He attempted to head into battle with the faint hope that you’d forgive him if he killed his uncle. Though even he knew deep down that no amount of deaths could fix anything. Yet even still he tried. He defeated Daemon, with blood of which Targaryen man he did not know staining and pooling on his ripped armour.

Aemond came home where he was met with his mother and brother, who both congratulated him on his victory. Though even with their congrats he could see the disgust that lingered in his mothers gaze as she looked at him. It made his shame all that more prominent.

He would’ve gone to see you, but Aegon stopped him before he could, claiming he was holding a feast in his name for the defeat of Daemon. He tried to look for you in the amount of people that came, yet he couldn’t. And he didn’t dare ask his mother if you would be coming in fear of her glare and disappointment.

That night he wonders something. Maybe it would’ve been better if he did die by the hand of his uncle? Then it would’ve saved him from all this torture. Though he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Aemond can only wallow in his drinks that he keeps being given and his own sorrow.

Aemond was back home. The words the maids said echoed in your head. He’s here, and no doubt going to attempt to reconcile. If there was one thing you ever learnt about your husband, was that he never quit at anything he started.

You already made bets with yourself on how he’d attempt to do it.

Maybe he’ll try flowers? No that’s too much of a common move for Aemond to pull… Maybe he’ll bring you some jewellery? No that’d make him feel like he was buying for your forgiveness. Like he was buying something for a mistress. Well… he’s been there and done that…

There is always the chance Aemond will not even attempt to reconcile. Hopefully becoming too overcome by the grief and pain of the loss of his and your child that he’d respect your wishes after reading your own pain on paper. The maids still look at you worriedly, especially when they find you sitting near the window. You know why they worry, you mourned Helaena and Jahaerys and you know you will not become like her.

Aegon was also the one who told you about Alys, and when you lost your child and screamed for the whole of the castle to hear, it was Aegon who ran to you to mourn with you and hold you while you cried for a life you may have been able to have. He held you in the way a brother would hold a sister. He even cried with you and helped clean you of the blood. Oh the blood…

———

It’s been a few long months, but the war between the greens and the blacks is finally over. Aegon is celebrating by holding a massive banquet and all the lord and ladies who supported him are invited. Even though Aemond knows it will not happen, he secretly hopes you will come to celebrate.

Though as he keeps sneaking glances at the door all night he eventually comes to term with the fact you’re not coming. He can only swallow more bitter wine and ignore the fact he’s drinking it like a fish in water now.

He’s attempted to reconcile from a distance ever since the incident but everything he has sent to your chambers has come back in shreds. The flowers from the garden you loved to look after, heads torn from their stems and cut into a thousand pieces. The books he sent on your favourite topic, you had more restraint on them and simply chucked them from your window onto unsuspecting bystanders bellow.

Aegon told him delightfully how after he delivered the books to you, they were seen immediately thrown from the window and one had supposedly managed to hit one knight straight on the head, effectively knocking him out cold.

Though if anything those small acts of defiance made Aemond wish to reunite and return to you even more. It reminded him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Your wit and your wisdom made him fall head over heals for you, literally.

He had tripped in front of you and some other ladies of the court due to the load of books he was carrying. He had not yet gotten used to the visual impairments the loss of his eye provided and did not see the thrown goblet in his path. Aemond had effectively turned scarlet when the ladies began to mockingly giggle at him, it nearly made his heart beat straight from his chest when he saw you come to his help. “You need to get some help with those. It’s not that bad to ask for help you know? Means you aren’t a stubborn twat.” You grin.

He wished he could go back to those days. They were simpler. They held no knowledge of the war they would face. It held no knowledge of the bastard from Harrenhal.

Aemond had not tried to reunite with you in person. He knew you’d most definitely follow through with your threat and spill his blood. It’s why he attempted to send you items instead through the maids. Though it’s very obvious those weren’t working either. That’s when he got the idea to write you letters. There was easily a chance that you would burn them or tear them the moment you saw the writing. Yet even then Aemond knew he had to try…

———

“Princess. I have another item sent from the prince for you.” One of the maids said as she carefully approached your bed. The sun had already hit its peak that day, though you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. The only time you could bring yourself too was either with the help of your maids, or when Aemond sent a supposed gift to you which you’d immediately destroy.

“What is it this time?” You sigh. “Is it something that I am supposed to eat? Because if it is i’d like it if you took to the servants quarters and give it to them and not-“

“It’s not food related my princess. It’s a letter.” When you look towards the maid you can see the sad expression clear on her face. This maid has brought you many of Aemonds attempts at reconciliation.

“What is your name?” It does not give you any sort of pleasure when the maid looks shocked at the fact a princess is asking for the name of a maid. “Its not a trick question I want to know your name.”

“Klarisa my princess. My name is Klarissa.”

“Klarisa do you think I should read the letter my bastard of a husband as written to me?” You look carefully at Klarisas face, the decision of your lifetime hanging in a mere maids hands.

“To be honest with you my lady…” Klarisa takes a deep breath and puts on a sympathetic face. You appreciate that she wishes to give you honesty, though that sympathetic face makes you want to punch her. “What the prince did was inexcusable after the way the two of you acted before… her. You got to have a husband who loves you and cared for you, that itself is much more than most of the women who are forced into a marriage can hope for. The prince is trying to make up for it and is also respective your boundaries. Not many could say that they got to have a husband who did even one of those things. So yes my princess, I believe you should read the letter.” You take a deep breathe and loosen your hands, which seemed to have clenched so tightly your nails all but pierce into your palms.

“Give me the letter then leave. If you see the prince, do not tell him that you for once got me to think about even looking at his weak apologies. Just put your head down, and walk away. Do you understand Klarisa?”

“Yes my princess.” Klarisa moves swiftly to the doors to your chambers, opening it and moving forward, only to stop for a moment and turn on her heels towards to. “I hope you get what it is you seek my princess. For your own sake.” She turns back to the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone with the letter in your hand which already feels like it’s burning you. Yet you prevail, and slowly open the letter to read it.

Dear ñuha jorrāelagon,

I will not waste my breath in attempting to gain your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that when you stick your mind to something you keep it that way. Though what I will say is the truth, which I know will hurt you and anger you more than anything but i know it’s what you wish to hear.

Alys was a woman I believed to be falling in love with. She was something what I believed I needed in my life. A woman to be docile and to whisper all the things I needed to hear in my ear. Though after your letter, it became my wake up. I cut off all contact with Alys after realising how much I hurt you. I regret that woman everyday I have not been with you. You are the only woman I need to be with. I love that you are not docile and will not take any man’s shit (as you so clearly and often tended to put it). I love that you challenge me and encourage the debates we so often hold. I love you Rhaella, more than any woman before in my life. I’m sorry it took another woman and the life of our child for me to realise it. I understand wholeheartedly if you wish to never speak to me again. But I hope with this letter, if you ever do decide to read this, which after all my other attempts seem unlikely, you at least know that there will not be a single day that I do not wish that I did not kill that woman when I killed all the other strongs. You are my life. My world. And I hope you know that.

From, Aemond Targaryen

You’ve never felt like you wanted to cry this much since you lost your sweet baby. You can feel the tears leaking down your face the entire time you read Aemonds words. Some of your tears drip onto the page, leaving some of the words to blur together into illegible blobs of black ink.

You feel the urge to destroy the letter. The same urge and desire you felt when you got into contact with all of Aemonds other gifts. Though you resist this time, and instead of destroying the letter, you smooth it out and place it delicately under the mass amounts of pillows that seem to always near take over your bed. That night, for the first night of the many you’d stayed in your room during your isolation period, you slept the whole night in your bed with no nightmares to wake you screaming.

———

When Aemond was standing in the corridor in the shadows and hadn’t picked up on any whispers from the maids passing him of any destruction or damage coming from your chambers, he assumed you must have kept the letter.

He does not hold though any hope that you read it. For all he knows you’ve simply just ignored it or ripped it and used it to keep your fire alight.

When he is waiting for the maid to come out of your room though, he could not help but feel hopeful when the maid takes longer than usual to come out of your room. “Well?” He asks as he steps from the shadows when the maid eventually comes out and nearly passes him. He does not dare to actually ask whether or not you took it. Even though he so selfishly wish to help hold her down and demand for

It surprises him and angers him when the maid looks at him and yet does not acknowledge him. What did you tell her? What does she know?

Aemond grabs the arm of the maid as she attempts to pass him without any real acknowledgment. “Your prince asked you a question.” He growls. He nearly felt sympathy for the woman when she looked at him with fear in her eyes. But he is not Aegon. He can control his desires towards the maids.

“The princess asked that I not speak to you. Please let go of my arm, my prince…” The maid half begs. Aemond lets go of her arm reluctantly after a moment of thinking. Why would you tell the maid to not talk to him? Maybe you really read the letter and do not wish to appear weak to him? Though only if you knew that you could never be weak in his eyes, his strong independent wife.

[elissanatok]

-𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

part 2

pairing: Aemond targaryen x velaryon! (strong!) reader

summary: Aemond has loved and secretly claimed you for himself since the day you were born. losing his eye changed him, but maybe it did not affect his feelings for you as much as he thought it had

warnings: english is not my first language, angst, fluff, shy reader, unclexniece, possesive aemond, everybody adores reader in this

let me know what you think!! reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are highly appreciated <33

You didn't know what you had expected when you imagined looking into his face again. a smile maybe? A hint of the boy he used to be? Well - you surely did not get whatever it was you had expected. 

He looked at you with a piercing but very bored look, before he let his eye drift again to your little brother. You nervously looked from your little brother to your older one. Jacerys tried to send you a reassuring look, or maybe it was just one that screamed “I told you so”. 

Before leaving Dragonstone he and your mother told you not to expect any kindness from the rest of your family. You were disappointed that they seemed to be right and that the little hope Daemon gave you when he talked about your friendship as children flew away with the wind. 

You had missed him dearly. Your Aemond. But maybe this was not him. His hair had grown longer, although not as long as yours, and laid pin straight against his back. The black eyepatch he wore made him look almost forbidden. It made him look dangerous. But your Aemond was not a dangerous boy. But then again - this was not him. 

Your Aemond used to read in books, spend his days learning, dreaming and talking about Dragons. Teaching you about them. This Aemond looked like he was ready - had dreamed and talked about feeding you to them. 

The Queen's eyes held a little bit more warmth when she met your gaze. Sometimes she thought you looked more like her daughter than Rhaenryas but then again, your eyes held the same fire as your mothers.

The reason for your visit was a sad one, sure, who would be the heir of driftmark was important, not for you, but for your boys. You would be married off, no matter what Daemon claimed, if an alliance with House Winterfell was needed, Cregan would be the first to take your hand. You liked him. He was a kind man. A strong one too, but your relationship held no meaning, no feelings, no friendship. 

Standing with your shoulders straight and your chin held high, you listened to Vaemond.”Don´t you dare tell me, who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”  You could see the rage forming in his eyes. “Allow it?”, your sick grandfather questioned. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

The first time you flinched, was when he raised his voice, pointing at Lucerys. “That- is no true Velaryon- and certainly no nephew of mine.”

Your mother tried calming the situation, after quickly looking at her only daughter. “Go to your chambers, you have said enough.” 

“Lucerys is my trueborn grandson.”

“You may run your house as you see fit. but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the doom.” 

You really wished for someone to hold your hand. Stand in front of you, protect you from the eyes in the room that bore into your golden skin, but there was just your family and you in your flame red dress. 

“And a thousand trigulatons besides.”. “And Gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this -” 

You and your little brother were similar in some ways, in ways like anxious behavior. In ways like his hands trembling just as much as yours behind his back.  “Say it.”, whispered Daemon, making your knees feel weak for what was about to come. You were no fighter. No ruler. Just a woman. And a brutally soft one too. “Her children are Bastards!!”Vaemond yelled into the room, at the king, making you slightly flinch at the sudden loudness of his voice. 

“And she, and her daughter, are whores.”

Your eyes widened, while people let out gasps. Insulting your mother, married and with children was one thing, insulting you, a girl who had not even earned a kiss to her cheek yet, was something entirely else. You were not even promised yet. 

Unknown to you, Aemonds eye had locked onto your form the moment Vaemond stepped closer to you. His gasp was a short one, a quiet too, but he could not believe someone dared insulting you. Yes, you may have shared the features of your brothers, even though you were much more beautiful to him, but your eyes were the purest purple he had seen in his house. There was no way someone could doubt where you belonged. 

In his opinion, you would always belong right next to him. He wished he could have shielded you from harsh words and glances, but he could not forget who you stood next to, the boy who took his eye and the woman who wanted the throne. 

His fists clenched behind his back, he watched his father stand up, heavy breathing. “I- will have your tongue for that.”

You had heard Daemon lifting his sword, and you had seen it from the corner of your eye, but still you did not stop looking at anything but Haelenas dress. His blood flooded in front of your feet. “He can keep his tongue.” Daemon shot you a look. Looking for tears on your face as usual, but no, you seemed to be somewhere else. 

Aemond looked at his uncle with appreciation. He wished he would be bold enough, could show his care for you openly enough to chop a head off, but he couldn't have done it yet, not in front of everyone else at least.

Part 3

[hisfavegiri]

One Mistake - Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader.

Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, angst, mentions of an affair, harsh language, mention of blood, miscarriage.

You looked at your husband with the knife still at his neck, your tears flowing freely. You ignore the screams of your mother and sister asking you to stay away from Aemond, you are really angry now that Aemond has crossed the line.

"What are you waiting for? kill me now” you could see Aemond smile a little and it made your stomach turn, how could he be this calm when there was a knife at his neck?

"You think I can't do it, huh? You're wrong husband, I really can" once again you pressed the knife deep into his neck which you guaranteed might have hurt him because you could see the change in his expression a second ago.

You continued to stare at him sharply and angrily, but suddenly you dropped the knife in your hand. You may be angry and disappointed, but you still love him. he looked at you in shock and you ran out.

You ignored everyone's whispers and stares as you ran towards your chambers, you no longer cared what they said. As soon as you enter your chambers, you throw everything and scream.

You ignore the knock that comes from outside the door, you feel empty, you feel weak, your husband, the person you love has a child with someone else. A bastard, news that you can deny as strongly as possible, but it turns out that today the woman, Alys, brought their son and you saw him. A son that Aemond longed for was in her arms.

Suddenly your world was destroyed, the dreams you had created together with Aemond suddenly collapsed. You kept crying and screaming until your throat felt hoarse, You decided to stay in your chambers, you wouldn't come out to anyone. even your mother and your twin sister.

“My love? can you let me in?” You hear the soft voice of your mother who has been begging you to come in for three days, but you still hold on firmly and don't let her in.

you can hear her breath before she knocks again, “you should at least eat, I'm worried about your health love.” You remained silent, you hadn't even touched the food she brought you yesterday.

when night falls, your mother still continues to persuade you to open the door. This time she was accompanied by your sister, Haelena. “y/n.. please open the door, talk to me” but they noticed that your chambers door was no longer locked.

When they opened the door to your room, your mother screamed hysterically when she saw your current condition. You are lying on the floor with blood coming out from between your legs, there are also bloodstains on your mattress, there are visible tear marks on your cheeks and soft sobs are also coming out of your mouth.

"M- mother.. what happened?" that's all you can ask, Haelena ran out to call the Maester while your mother shouted for Aemond. You slowly closed your eyes making your mother panic even more and suddenly everything went dark.

You lie on the bed, your mother and sister always visit and even accompany you. It's been almost two days since you were unconscious after that incident, the incident where you lost your first child who you didn't even know was growing inside you.

When you find out that you have just had a miscarriage, you feel very useless, you feel broken, and feel empty. you blamed yourself until your mother told the Maester to give you medicine to help you sleep.

You growled as you felt extremely dizzy, you blinked your eyes and looked around you. until your eyes fell on Aemond who was standing near the fireplace, he looked at you with a blank but sharp gaze.

“What are you doing here? I don't want to meet you” you spat at him as he walk closer to your bed. You were shocked when you felt his big hands grip your cheeks roughly, you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

“because of you, I lost my child. because of your stupid and childish attitude, I lost my heir”

You looked at him in disbelief and anger, tears rolling down your cheeks now. You let go of his hand with all the strength you have, you're angry, you're furious. Not only does he blame you but he also doesn't realize that the reason they lost their child was because of him.

“my fault? you blame me?! Don't you think Aemond!? why am I like that? you cheated and got that whore pregnant! you have a child with someone else! and you can still blame this on me?! Are you crazy!?”

you screamed in his face, your breathing was very irregular because you were angry. your eyes are red from crying, you can't understand how he could blame you?

“What?! now you can't talk huh? what I said is a fact! You got her pregnant and hoped I would forgive you because I love you?!? I'm not that stupid! I'm not like Haelena when she found out Aegon had many children from his whore, I'M NOT LIKE HER!”

Aemond just remained silent and continued to stare at you, he had no intention of replying to you and you hated that. you turned your head around when you heard your mother's voice “what is this? y/n darling? why are you screaming? you must rest"

You looked at him and smiled a little, before finally taking the knife that was on the left side of Aemond's body. Aemond was shocked and you pushed his body, he fell unguarded.

"I'm sorry if I was never the best daughter for you mother, I will always love you" before your mother and Aemond could take the knife in your hand, you had already slashed your neck.

Aemond captured your body, you could hear your mother's voice calling all the guards to immediately bring in the Maester. Aemond looked at you in shock and fear, you smiled and gently stroked his cheek. "I hope you are happy Aem, sorry I couldn't be a good wife for you" then your eyes close and slowly your hand fell from his cheek.

“no, no, no! don't you dare close your eyes! y/n! Forgive me! y/n! please come back!” Aemond shouted while hugging your body which was starting to get cold, he cried and whispered sorry repeatedly in your ear. when the Maester came, he told you that you were gone. and that night was the night Aemond lost the only person who truly loved him, you.

tag list - @danytar @looneytun3s @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd @eratosmusings (italic means that i can’t tag you)

[wackyharpy]

Just have an urge to point out:

Since the moment of the trailers' release, I've already met people who are arguing and humiliating others who don't like the characters they do, or who aren't at the side of the team they like. I understand that you may tend to be more at the side of team black or green, but let's not forget that this is a show, and the characters are fictional. Any person can have fav characters, whoever they like and that's incredible, that's what the show is created for. So, please, you may cheer and support anyone, but don't forget to be respectful and mind others' business. Eventually, I don't think we should be divided, we are all the fans of the same show, we are all united here by one story. So, let's enjoy this adventure together.

Thank you for your attention

[beary-rambles]

Admirer

r.q: Hello! I love your writing! And especially when you wrote the Aegon x f!reader where the reader is shy and it’s all just cute and stuff. could you write something similar with Aegon x f!reader where the reader is again shy but has a huge crush on him? Like she’s a high born lady and secretly writes him letters and leaves stuff in his chamber like for example his favorite wine she saw him drinking, flowers, fruit and other things. Aegon doesn’t know who it is from because the two never talked. But once happens that when she’s putting again some gift into his chamber he catches her. Then some smut if you would be comfortable writing it and eventually he marries her and everything? Because Aegon feels appreciated and loved finally from someone. I want our Aegon to feel some love. Thank you!

w.c: 1.2k

c.w: highborn!f!reader, angsty aegon, kinda corny aegon, proposal ?, no actual smut but heavily implied, DRABBLE !! not proofread

a.n: will prob expand on this in the future bc i love this idea a lot but for now i hope this drabble is good <33

‘you are the most beautiful man I've ever seen i look for you in every room i enter’

‘My affections know no bounds when it comes to you’

‘I hope you shall smile to my prince for your smile is the most glorious sight’

‘you make my heart race and soar’

It had been over a month since the beginning of him receiving gifts each day, each attached with a small love letter to him. He had no clue where these letters and gifts were coming from. when he brought it up to his mother she shook her head and said she had no idea along with questioning some of the handmaidens who also had no idea. it was like a ghost, everyday around the same time late at night he would enter his room and a new gift would be there.

He had thought he was being pranked, that the karma from his past jests was finally catching up to him and he was finally being punished. there was no way someone truly felt this way about him, nobody looked for him in any room, nobody enjoyed seeing him smile. they had to be pranking him and he was very determined to catch you, because you continued to jest with him knowing his favorite wine his favorite desserts for gods sake you had even left him some bandages one time after he had been walking around with a cut on his cheek from an accident.

He was now determined to catch you, to stop this foolish game, to stop himself from thinking it was even real, but he had no clue how to even catch you, you were like the wind and he had no bases to even start from.

He had spent yet another day running around searching for any sorts of signs about this mysterious person and came up empty handed once more. He had been back earlier than usual, when he pushed open the door to his room he stood frozen in shock as the girl in front of him squealed, dropping the plate of cranberry pie on the ground.

He couldn't recognize her, he could tell by her nicer dress however that she had to be from some important family, his eyes fell to the table in which you were standing next to and he noticed a small note. It had been you. the person who was leaving him all these gifts and notes.

“What is your name?” Shaking her head unable to lift her head to look at him, “i am so sorry my prince i-” “Your name?” You give him your name and he rolls it off his tongue easily, testing it out. He quickly closes the door and makes his way swiftly to stand next to you before grabbing you chin and forcing you to look up at him. “Who put you up to this?” A confused look finds its way to the girls face and she shakes her head, “nobody my prince?” the statements ends with a question, unsure of what he even means in the first place.

He takes a second to admire your name, your eyes, every detail of your skin and for a second he hopes its real and that a pretty girl like you truly liked him. “then why have you been leaving me gifts?” he expects you to finally admit it now, that you had simply been toying with him.

You had been helaenas lady in waiting for almost two months now and it had been some of the best times you’ve ever had. The princess is kind, the people are kind enough but what really is a blessing is getting to see Aegon almost everyday. Ever since you first arrived in the keep you had kept your eyes on him, you had thought he was the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Despite how much you wanted to you couldn't find the courage to go up to him and introduce yourself. Being a member of the great house tyrell you should have this great confidence about you but you never were able to be as outspoken as your siblings so if you really wanted to express yourself you decided you would have to get creative.

You figured out he was always out of his room and the maids weren't in his room during a very specific hour of the day and had just decided it would be easier to now have to face him to give him notes of your affections. but today the prince had come back to his room earlier than he usually did leaving you in this situation. You hadn't figured out what you were gonna say because you had never even really planned on telling him it was you.

“I just rather like you a lot my prince.”

Ever since then he had basically been glued to your side, followed you around everywhere and begged you to join him for meals. It was odd. you had gone from him never speaking to him to him wanting to see you every moment of the day.

One night in particular you had not seen him all day oddly enough and you don't expect to see him, until you’re sitting in front of your mirror preparing for bed when you hear knocking on your door.

You have no clue who could be coming here so late but when you open your door you barely get a look at him before he walks past you and heads straight to your bed laying face down on it.

“My prince?”

He groans and just rubs his further into your pillow. You walk over carefully and place your hand on his lower back. “Is something wrong?”

“missed you.” He hums as you begin to rub up and down his back, “i missed you too my prince.”

“They kept me from you all day.” He pauses for a moment and when he begins to speak his voice is laced with venom. “They want me to marry some bitch from the north.” You pause, your heart breaking into a million pieces as you think about him going off and marrying someone that's not you. “oh…”

He sits up, looking at you with cloudy eyes, you can now smell the wine on him, “I told them no. That i would marry nobody.” you look down at your lap as he moves closer to you, laying his head on your lap. “Nobody if it was not you”

“my prince?” You whisper at him as he presses his cheek against your naked thighs, your night gown having ridden upwards “your father thought it was a wonderful idea. my mother was so mad i thought she was going to smack me in front of them all.” Your breath gets caught in your throat as he grabs your hand and presses it against his cheek. “My prince?” “Call me Aegon my love.”

“what are you saying?” He looks up at you, grabbing you neck and pulling you down so your facing are right next to each other, “marry me.”

“Why?” Mirroring his own question that had been asked not too many moons ago, he looks at you with a wide grin as his eyes drift to your lips, “I guess i just rather like you my love.”

He presses his lips against yours and hums forcefully shoving his tongue in your mouth in a heated kiss. You fall back with him on top of you, his hands sliding to your thighs to push up your night gown to your stomach completely exposing you to him. His fingers lightly rub against your folds “Aegon,,” “Allow me to show you how much i love you.”

[shuichiakainx]

🖤🔥🐉

[thebadboyfanclub]

Queen Of My Life (Aegon x Reader)

“I will be queen and write history like my ancestor (y/n) Targaryen”

“The story of (y/n) was your brother Rhaegars Favourite, she was known as “the miracle queen”

“The miracle? Why?I’ve only known a few scattered parts of her”

“She is known as the last good leader along with her husband king Aegon, they were the first and only couple that ruled United and seemed to listen to the worries of their subjects”

“She cared for the small folk?”

“The didn’t call her “our sun” for nothing”

-

(Y/n) was not supposed to be born, a child created after the night Rhaenyra laid with Ser Criston Cole, it might sound evil but as her belly grew Rhaenyra wished for the babe to die, to get rid of it.

The babe came out quickly and earlier than expected, a healthy girl that wailed loudly as she fussed and screamed to get away from her mothers grasp, it was almost like the babe had heard every thought her mother had, the hostility that was created as she was growing inside a womb that it’s owner wished she was dead.

The only person that (y/n) truly loved was Laenor, he adored his daughter and spoiled her to no ends, she had everything laid beneath her feet with one click of her fathers fingers, before her dragon hatched Laenor would take her up in the sky just to hear the little girls sequels of bliss.

“You did it!”

(Y/n) bursted in the room with a dagger in her hand, her fathers dagger that she had just lost. Rhaenyra was quick to restrain her daughter from cutting through her chest, the whole room erupted with chaos as the boiling pot that was her daughter temper seemed to have blown up and was ready to burn everyone.

“How dare you blame me?”

“How dare I? You killed my father just to marry your fucking knight in shinning armour”

The scariest part was not (y/n)s tone nor the raised tone that pierced through eardrums, it was that there was no emotion in her eyes, just plain darkness, Rhaenyra was truly backed against the wall to fight for her life.

Criston Cole was the one to thankfully be brave enough to pull (y/n) away, unfortunately due to her erratic movements the princess had managed to cut herself, earning a deep clean cut from bicep to wrist, her cry of pain was deafening as her blood spilled down to the floor, Criston wanted to throw up at the sight of his daughters blood intertwining with mourning for another man she called “father”.

“Take the princess back to her chamber Ser Criston”

The queen commanded him to which he heartedly agreed. Swiftly he lifted her up to hold her in her arms, she was just a kid, a kid that attempted to not only kill her mother, to also strike down the future heir and accuse her of murder, the queen had followed the two with her eyes as the knight exited the room, leaving all of them in despair over the event.

“We should call a maester for the princess”

Alicent suggested mostly to herself as she spoke to a hushed tone, the queen sped to the princesses room to find her laying in her bed while Ser Criston had torn off his cape to stop the bleeding, Criston was a tormented father that had his hands tied when it came to the matter of his daughter, when she was born he knew it in his heart that the babe was his kin, how could a father stand watching his only daughter lay wounded?

On the morrow Rhaenyras family departed for dragon stone, except (y/n) who had requested to stay behind and become the queens lady in waiting, queen Alicent always felt for the young girl who had inherited Cristons eyes, she could somewhat understand why Rhaenyra had a certain grudge against (y/n), to gaze upon your own daughter and see a man you hate.

One of the few times (y/n) was seen smiling was at her wedding with Aegon, Aegon fell for the princess ever since they were young, he had a very special gift from her that started from his thigh down to his knee, (y/n) and Aegon were extremely competitive so one time during training (y/n) requested real swords, Aegon being the arrogant prick he could be lazily swung his swords while (y/n) bend down and landed a nasty cut.

“How does it feel to be my lady wife?”

“Nothing has really changed, except the fact that tonight we have to land a small little cut on you”

(Y/n) and Aegon were drawn to one another long before their wedding, Alicent had betrothed them to shut the rumours of the princesses moans coming from Aegons room, while partially to quickly hide the fact that (y/n) had not bled for two moons.

Aegon giggled at the comment as he took her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, after that his other hand caressed her still flat belly lovingly, his babe was safely growing inside the woman he loved.

“It’s a boy”

“I did not know I was marrying a witch”

“Heleana saw it, we will name him Saeror”

“Saeror?! What type of name is that?”

“Saeror the future king… has a nice ring to it”

Aegon surprised them all, he became a wonderful lord husband and stood honourably by his wives side through good times and bad times.

Aegon was present when Saeror was born, he had pushed the maester away to hold his babe, he would have never thought that he would take one look at a bloody little thing that resembled a small kitten would make him so happy, Aegon laughed loudly as Saeror wailed his way into the world.

“Saeror, You will be our legacy little one”

Reluctantly he passed the babe to the wet nurses so they can take care of the newborn, carelessly he wiped his hands to his clothes before kneeling in front of his glowing wife who sheepishly smiled at him, content with bringing the future heir to the world without any complications.

Aegon caressed her hair while his other hand held hers tightly, she had blessed him with a new family, (y/n) shed light in his life like the beacon of old town, how wife was the fire that burned him so sweetly.

“A lot of women say they do not wish for their husbands to be in the room while giving birth, it is said men do not look at their wives as women any more”

“I do not view you as a woman, I worship you as a goddess”

“I did good”

“You did wonderful, queen of my life”

-

Rhaenyra had been absent to every important event, the wedding, the birth of (y/n)s first born, any feast that was held for (y/n)s honour Rhaenyra had an excuse to not make an appearance, sending only a letter as a “congratulations”, the bitterness within (y/n) took over her brain towards her mother in a quick pace.

Quite the contrary with her good mother queen Alicent, she had stepped up to take great care of (y/n) and showed her the way to be a queen, Alicent was determined to be the mother she did not have, she was aware of what life was like without that maternal figure and would hate herself if she allowed that curse to be casted upon another woman.

(Y/n) had proven to be restless, giving birth to three sons one after the other. Saeror, Zenea and little Aemond in honour of her good brother who hugged (y/n) tightly and whispered a subtle “thank you” in her ear when they announced the babes name to the court.

“(y/n) and Aegon the generous” where known within kings landing due to visiting orphanages often to take care of the children as well as funding maesters to visit anyone in need of medical care from the small folk, adored by the public was an extremely brilliant move against the heir Rhaenyra who had fled the capital and lived her life hiding away instead of building her claim.

(Y/n) and Aegon were seen with their children and Ser Criston Cole along with Ser Erryk to kings landing, listening to the small folks worries and strolling through paths like common folk, another clever move was throwing feasts for the children’s namedays were everyone was welcomed, the masses were fed and give their blessing to the princes, Lords from all of Westeros would travel to make alliances with the Targaryens, to offer their daughters for the princes.

“Push my love”

“I cannot, I am tired”

“Come on sweetling this is your fourth time in this bed, you are strong”

(Y/n) pushed with all her might while Alicent and Aegon held her hands to support her and pass their strength to her, (y/n) grunted and breathed heavily to push a new life out of her. She fell in her husbands arms once she felt the relief of the babe releasing from her womb, the sound of a newborn weeping would never get old to the couple, Aegon engulfed her with his arms to bring his sweaty mess of a wife in his arms to kiss her temple.

“Praise the mother, my queen you did well”

“Is our boy healthy?”

“A strong boy sweet one”

Alicent reassured the princess as she followed the wet nurses who did the usual routine for the babe before bringing it to the mother. (Y/n) held her new babe in her arms while she was still being held by her husband, tears that were shed from his eyes hit her shoulder.

“What will we name him?”

“I was thinking Naemor”

“Welcome to the family Naemor”

Aegon cooed at the babe who had started to calm down in his mothers arms. Aegon gave another kiss to his wives head, she deserved all the gold in the world for the sacrifices she had made, to create a home for him in her arms and create a human from his seed, she was his miracle.

“Your grace, your presence is requested to the throne room”

“Oh seven hells I completely forgot of the hearing”

“Is that today? We must get ready”

“My love, you are to remain abed”

“No, I will not give her that satisfaction of missing this, help me please or I’ll do this without you”

Aegon had no choice but to comply to his wives wishes and offer his hands for support to get her up on her feet. Ser Criston watched silently for a moment until he mastered the courage to take a few steps to stand next to the princess.

“A boy?”

“Indeed, here”

Carefully (y/n) laid her newborn babe in the knights arms, Criston could not believe his eyes, a fourth grandchild was presented to him, he was as perfect as the rest of them, they were times that he had cursed himself for what he had done, to fall for Rhaenyras act and entertain it to the point that he risked the highest honour and toyed with his life, this is the moment that gave his life meaning, to see your daughter prevail and become the strongest Targaryen of the entire kingdom.

Once the wet nurses were excused and (y/n) dressed in her gown with the assistance of her husband Criston stayed in the room to rock the babe for as long as he could, away from the prude eyes of the servants.

“You have a beautiful family… princess”

“Aegon could you please take the babe?”

Aegon gladly reached for the babe to cradle him in his arms, the newborn had drifted off to slumber as he was safely rocked by his grandfather.

(Y/n) froze in her spot for a moment as she eyeballed the knight who also did not move a muscle, it was her that fell in his arms for a tight hug. She was not dim witted, the stories had reached her ears ever since she was a toddler, Criston was there for every step of her life, protecting his kin from the shadows.

“I will take revenge for you, do not worry… father”

Criston only caressed her long dirty blonde hair, it was very few times that (y/n) could truly show affection to her biological father, after such an emotional event of giving birth Criston was one of the closest people she had, her true father that was there for her more than her mother had ever been.

“You mustn’t walk in your condition, I’ll carry you there”

“No I-“

“Hush now princess I’ll let you down before the doors agape”

It was pointless to put on a fuss, her father had her off her feet in a blink of an eye while her husband Aegon was on their side with the newborn babe. Soon enough they reached the throne room doors and Criston Cole kept his promising by allowing the princess to stand by herself.

“Princess (y/n) and prince Aegon of house Targaryen”

As the doors unlatched to reveal the couple (y/n) felt like her “family” threw daggers from their eyes to the princess, a part of her wanted to know what was it that she had done that cause such hatred, the other part was quite content with her own family.

“I apologise for the interruption your grace, we happily announce the birth of our newborn son Naemor”

“A fourth son… let me see”

“Allow me my moon”

(Y/n) mumbled to Aegon as asked for their son to take him up to the stairs to the frail grandsire. (Y/n) was in agony the minute she took a step in the room, labour was one of the most excruciating pains she had experienced, however no one could see her pain, the prideful princess smiled as she bend the knee to let the king gaze upon the child.

“A strong son from the most beloved couple of the realm”

“You honour me your grace”

“I believe we need to circle back to the reason we are all gathered here”

“I can understand it might bring a certain uneasiness to you that you are not the centre of attention, still do allow your own daughter to present her son-your fourth grandson- to the king -our father-“

Aegon snapped at his half sister, (y/n) smirked at the sharp jab her husband had landed. Aegon would go to war for his family, he had grown to be a man because of the influence (y/n) had on him, she made him stronger, sharper, a proper king and a protector of the realm.

(Y/n) was proud of the man she had married, she had to admit that when she was to be wed to him she feared for her future, what if Aegons passion for her burned out? What if his taste for wine got the best of him?

Questions that clouded her judgement had kept her up until the dawn of her wedding day, now there he was, not an ounce of quiver as he went toe to toe with Rhaenyra to defend his queen.

“We have decided as a union that our presence is important since we would officially want to announce that we side with prince Jacaerys when it comes to the claim of driftmark”

“What?”

“My brother is the second born of our family, our… late father Laenor had wished for him to inherit it, the power of the ocean runs through our veins”

“What do you know of Velaryon blood princess? I could cut my wrists and you would still not recognise it”

“ I only recognise the blood of a man like Laenor, a knight that fought to defend the realm against the common foe, I do not wish to witness the blood of a villainous brother that stops at nothing to gain power”

(Y/n) had stepped down from the throne that her grandsire was occupying, Aegon paced quickly to her to take their son from her with one hand while the other snaked it’s way around her waist for support, he was observant enough to pick up on the slight trembling of her hands, she was growing tired and the argument of Ser Vaemond was not helping.

“Enough!”

The king declared as loud as he could with the combination of stomping his cane to the ground for a louder pause to the heated conversation. (Y/n) and Aegon turned their backs on Ser Vaemond in order to face the king out of respect, (y/n) even leaned her head to Aegons shoulder to get closer to him, his musk scent was a familiar thing she could focus as she was feeling her knees fighting to keep her up.

“I have heard enough, it is a day to celebrate not to kill each other. I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of house Velaryon as the future heir of lord of the tides, I should also announce that prince Aegon with his lady wife princess (y/n) of house Targaryen will be declared as my… heirs to the throne… after me”

“It cannot be”

“Aegon and (y/n) have proved themselves worthy of the throne… Rhaenyra, my sweet daughter… you will inherit the… Step-ahhh”

“Call the maesters!”

Aegon felt his wife tense at the scene that was playing in front of them, the time she had always been waiting for was happening, her grandsire was announcing her as his heir instead of Rhaenyra.

The grunts of agony that shook the room from her grandsire caused the small babe to start fussing, wails erupting from her new born son while Aegon started to lightly bounce the babe in his arms.

“Hush little one, you father is here”

“We must go, come my moon”

(Y/n) took Aegons hand to lead him out of the throne room while everyone was preoccupied with tending to her grandsire the king, her pain however caused a flinch while a hiss was uttered from her causing her to come to a halt.

“You need to rest”

“We do not have time for that”

“I do not care what you say, the throne will be there after you take a bath and sleep for a few hours, Ser Criston take my wife in our chambers, I will handle the rest”

-

“So the king died right after he declared a new heir?”

“Correct”

“If he had announced it to the court as you say, why did war ensue?”

“Princess Rhaenyra fled to dragon stone with her family to call banners for support to her claim, the king had passed before the official ceremony could take place”

“And what of queen (y/n)?”

“Her and king Aegon were crowned before the masses at dawn, the small folk cheered at the announcement of that the couple were crowned as king and queen of the realm, men offered to be trained as knights to protect the new queen against princess Rhaenyra”

“So a mother and a daughter went to war”

“Queen (y/n) was known for one phrase”

“The blood in the veins is thicker than the water in the womb”

“The Beloved queen was an intriguing character, a powerful woman with endless potential, her story is the second most astonishing one after Aegon the conqueror”

Requests are open!

[devilsjacket]

Aegon, whispering to Jacaerys: you gotta know where to stick it in of course

Y/n, overhearing and whispering to Aegon: you don’t know where to stick it in

Aegon, sighing: that’s because you’re the one that sticks it in.

Jacaerys, almost choking on his wine: WHAT AM I HEARING RIGHT NOW-

[vsnyarbll]

A Targaryen prince is a heavy burden

atpiahb masterlist, part1, part2, part3, part4, part5

main masterlist

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader, platonic!Aegon II Targaryen x reader

words: 1.287

summary: Aemond is cheating on his wife with Alys Rivers. y/n finds out.

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of death, mentions of non-consensual sex

a/n: English is not my native language

y/n was sitting on the window bench. Her eyes were puffy and red from days of crying.

She lifted her wine glass to her lips, but it was empty. She reached for the decanter beside her to fill it and knocked it over. The wine spilled on the cushions of the bench and the hem of her dress.

Her hand holding the glass trembled, and she put it on the marble in front of the window.

y/n clenched her trembling hands and tried to calm herself, but her eyes filled, and her vision blurred. She put her hand over her mouth and tried to stifle her sobs.

Aegon got up from his chair. He came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"It will be all right."

"No, Aegon, it won't. He doesn't want me," she said between sobs.

Aegon sat next to her, ignoring the wine on the cushions.

"He had been going to her since the first day of our marriage. He always told me he had a mission that could take weeks.”

Aegon did not comment and averted his eyes.

"How could I have been so stupid," she said.

Two weeks ago, she found out that Aemond had cheated on her. They had been married for two years, and almost every month, he would get on his dragon and be gone for a week or two.

y/n kept reminding herself that he was a prince and had duties. But Aemond was cheating on her with a woman named Alys Rivers, and his affair with her even predated their marriage.

"He married me so he could inherit my father's lands."

Aegon reached out and patted her arm.

Like many in the castle, he had known this for a long time.

The Queen, the King, the lords, and their wives, everyone knew. That was why they had looked at her with pitying eyes at her wedding and when she first moved into the palace.

Even the servants in the castle felt sorry for her.

It was common for high-ranking married men to have affairs with other women. But it was not considered appropriate for them to have a lover.

"I thought he loved me," she said, turning to Aegon.

xxx

In the evening of that day, the wet nurse came to her room, holding Aemond's and y/n's son, born a week earlier.

Aemond was not with her at the birth of their son. He wasn't even in the castle.

Aegon had waited outside the room during the birth.

The queen had come to her room after the birth to hold her grandson.

y/n’s parents lived three weeks away and were unable to come when she went into labor.

She had to deal alone with the thing she feared most in life.

She was all alone.

After giving birth, one of her trusted ladies-in-waiting told her about Aemond's mistress.

y/n took her son in her arms from the wet nurse. And she buried her nose in his head.

He was the son of the man she loved.

Her eyes were full as she rocked him back and forth in her arms.

She could not go back to her family. Her parents, as much as they loved her, could not accept such a thing. She was married and her new home was The Red Keep, next to her husband.

The door to their room opened, and her husband came in.

His hair was disheveled because he had come to the castle with his dragon. Aemond looked at his wife as he closed the door.

When he saw the baby in her arms, his throat tightened. "I didn't know. I found out the moment I arrived at the castle."

He walked toward his wife and reached for the baby in her arms, but y/n pressed him against her chest.

Aemond paused and dropped his hands to his sides. "My mother said you gave birth to a boy."

"Yes, I did."

He nodded.

"All alone," she said.

"I would have come earlier if my mission-

"Your mission?" she laughed nervously. "What was that mission, Aemond, to fuck that witch?"

He didn't answer, but the muscles in his jaw tightened.

"I could have died in childbirth." Then, she paused briefly. "Of course, you'd be happy if I died. Since I gave you a son, it doesn't matter if I live.”

"You've learned."

"Yes, Aemond! I've learned!"

Aemond continued to maintain silence. His silence infuriated her even more.

"You won't say anything? Won't you defend yourself? Don't I deserve even a simple apology?"

"There is nothing to defend," he said and approached her. "She's been in my life since I was 19."

y/n couldn't hold back her tears this time. She couldn't remember how many times she had cried that day.

"Can I hold my son?"

She looked at him incredulously. "If you want to hold him, and if you want to be in his life in the future, you will leave that woman."

Aemond took a deep breath. "I can't, y/n."

"Why? Why can't you?!"

"Because she's pregnant."

y/n didn't know how much more upset and angry she could feel. "So after years of bullying your nephews, you made your Strong bastard?"

At that moment, the baby stirred restlessly in her arms and slowly opened his eyes. y/n started rocking him back to sleep.

"Don't make me choose between you."

"Do you hear yourself?! I'm your wife. You already made that choice by marrying me.”

Her son wouldn't fall asleep and started to cry. The tension in the room had affected him too. Aemond reached for him once more. This time she let Aemond take him. She couldn't bear to hear her baby cry, even though she felt guilty for feeling that way.

He looked down at his son in his arms, smiling. He placed a kiss on his head. With his eyes still on him, he spoke. "Was Aegon not enough to fill my absence?"

y/n's eyes widened. "Do you realize what you are accusing me of? I am not you, Aemond."

"The courtiers are not blind, y/n. As I set foot in the castle, they told me how much Aegon enjoyed spending time in our chambers."

She backed away and sat on the bed.

y/n folded her hands in her lap and began to play with her fingers.

Aegon was another matter.

Nothing inappropriate had happened between them, but she felt safe and at peace around him.

She always felt his gaze on her in crowded places.

His facial expression when he looked at her would sometimes cause her face to warm up.

Aemond came to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "If he comes near you again, I will cut off his hands."

She looked up to lock eyes with Aemond. "You impregnate another woman and then turn around and question my honor." She laughed to herself. "That's so like you."

y/n wanted him to be angry too. She wanted him to hurt even a little, but there was not a trace of emotion on the one-eyed prince's face.

"I'm going to take our son to his wet nurse. It wouldn't be right for him to sleep here tonight. I miss my wife."

"Do you think I'd bed with you after all you've done?"

Aemond spoke as he walked towards the door. "You have to. It's your duty as my wife."

As he opened the door, he turned and spoke for the last time before leaving the room. "Besides, everyone will expect me to have another heir."

As y/n looked at where Aemond had just stood, she remembered what her mother had said on their wedding day.

‘A Targaryen prince is a heavy burden.’

next chapter

[antheina]

[fearmakess]

👑🩸

[elissanatok]

-𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

part 3

pairing: Aemond targaryen x velaryon! (strong!) reader

summary: Aemond has loved and secretly claimed you for himself since the day you were born. losing his eye changed him, but maybe it did not affect his feelings for you as much as he thought it had

warnings: english is not my first language, angsty , shy reader, unclexniece, possesive aemond, everybody adores reader in this

let me know what you think!! reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are highly appreciated <33

the air in the dining hall had been suffocating you. you could see the smug look in the eyes of your oldest uncle. he used to look at you differently and you had questioned before if it were his feelings for you that changed, or he himself. and if Aegon changed that much, did the others do too? 

you had been late, much to your mothers dismay. your uncle Daemon had not expected anything else. he always knew the days when it was time for a nightmare. maybe that was because he cared so much, or maybe because he liked to know all of the people surrounding him. you had forgotten your jewelry too, making your neck and shoulders bare. your deep red dress contrasted with the one of heleana who was sitting next to your brother. 

you deeply regretted arriving late - because at the end of the table, to your left, sat the one eyed prince. his gaze burned holes into your skull and except from the smile you send him when you arrived you did not dare to look in his direction again, too afraid he would look at you the same way he did when you arrived. 

you had hoped things would be different and he still held the same love for you he had when you were children. but this was different. 

having you avoid his gaze angered him even more than the pig placed in front of him. he could not care for that damn pig because he already felt disgusted of himself. he thought your feelings for him could not change, you could not change, but there you were avoiding his gaze like never before. Now that you were of age, you would probably want a good looking man, a kind one too. hearing his mother ask about the lord in the north made him choke on his wine, and made you finally look at him. 

your lavender eyes looked at him with concern, the line between your eyebrows deepening. “Are you alright prince aemond?”, you asked quiet and kindly. he nodded, humming as an answer, which definitely did not satisfy you. you wanted to hear his voice. he realized when you looked down at your lap, biting your lip embarrassed and playing with your fingers. but still, he did not know what to say.

His mother eyed him and the pig warily. She truly did not wish for something bad to occur, but she could literally feel the anger radiating of her youngest son. She tried changing the topic “But he has not made a proposal yet? Has he?”, but failed miserably.

Aemond felt lucerys smirk before he saw it. Not only could he now laugh at his dumb pig but at the obvious distress he felt over the possible marriage of his princess.

You shook your head no while chewing your dinner slowly. You did not wish to move to the north, to leave your family behind and be lady of house Winterfell. You just wanted to stay here. With him.

And after Heleana made her toast about marriage life and “he mostly ignores you”, it sounded like a death trap to her.

Aemonds abrupt standing up and hitting the table made you flinch. You could see it in his eyes. He truly did change and when he openend his mouth to make his horrible speech, you could feel it in every bone.

Although he did not take your name in his mouth, you could clearly hear the insult he threw at your siblings and you.

While everybody stood up, Aegon pushing lucerys head on the table and Aemond throwing Jace to the ground, you looked down at your lap. Tears that dropped down your cheeks pathetically were wiped away by your sleeves. This was not what you hoped for when they told you of your return but it was exactly what you feared.

Daemon saw it first, calling out your name to check on you and pulling the attention of the rest of your family towards you. You shook your head at him, while you tried to come up with anything helpful to say but found nothing that would make this situation better - so you left.

You did not see Aemonds smug smile fall because you did not turn around to look at him again.

Taglist: @iiamthehybrid @leahjean @bellaisasleep @tempt-ress @let-love-bleeds-red @millies0bsimp @alysmondstuff @chimmysoftpaws @justsumtuffstuff @havlindzk @partypoison-00-blog @zillahvathek @oureternalbond @aemondssiut @minttea07 @tinykryptonitewerewolf @pastelorangeskies @bellstwd @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @trikigirl271 @florxdexcerezo @eddiesbitch83 @maviee @melllinaa @zgzgzh @shiny-trashs-blog @bcon24 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @deliazeedork @ilovemydinoboi

I’m not continuing the tag list Sorry guys :(

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part One

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: This is based on the depiction of Aegon in HBO's House of The Dragon and not the books, though I do change some details about his character here and there. I fully recognize that he is a horrible person in the show, especially, but it still makes me want to fuck him just as badly. Please give me hate for this, so I know what to add to the story to piss you Aegon haters off. Toodles!

Chapter Warnings: Graphic depictions of childbirth and complications, death, reference to sexual assault, Aegon speaking inappropriately to a minor.

Screams echoed throughout the dark streets of Flea Bottom, the sound emanating from one of the many brothels that occupied the townspeople and even certain royals. The usual moans the whores had listened to were gone, replaced with their encouraging words and the shallow pants of a woman in labor. The establishment was closed for the night, which was unusual. They were always open, even on holidays that were supposed to be observed in silence, but this, they believed, was far more important.

One of the fellow women was giving birth to the firstborn daughter of Daemon Targaryen, a bastard.

"Push Elaina! Push!" the Madam commanded, holding her sweating hand.

The whispers of the other girls were the only thing Elaina Black could hear, even over the pound of blood through her ears. She had taken all the proper precautions to avoid this, but it seemed the Gods had other plans for her. Elaina had been the private whore of Daemon Targaryen, reserved only for his cock. Typically, the Madam would refuse such a demand, but he was a prince, and only the best were given to the Highborn.

"I can't," she whimpered, tears streaming down her temples. Unable to hold herself up, she lay on her bed, legs held open by her fellow girls. It had been hours, and the babe had not breached the canal. She was exhausted, sweat coated all her limbs, and she had given up on the birthing chair.

"You must!" A young girl to her side whispered, dabbing her forehead with a cool, damp cloth.

"The babe is stuck," the Madam said, her gruff voice turning into a soft, worried sound. Her callused hand rubbed her stomach.

"I-I need something, anything, for the pain," Elaina cried, her whole body feeling like she was lying in a bed of flames.

"I am sorry, sister, but it might harm the child," a girl holding her leg spoke. Elaina grunted, baring down and pushing with all her might with a scream. She felt as if her eyes were going to pop out of her head with force.

"Yes!" The Madam shouted. "Yes! Yes! Keep going, Elaina! It is moving!"

"Oh Gods," she groaned, attempting to roll on her side, but was held down.

The Madam had a bright smile as she stuck her hands inside Elaina's canal, feeling the soft hair of the newborn as it slid forward. She could feel the child's head moving against her pelvis, creating an indescribable pain. A few more contractions and the babe would be free.

Elaina tossed and turned, gripping the stained sheets and nearly ripping them in half as a soft tuft of brown hair appeared. She screamed, her back lifting as she bared down, knowing that would be the last push.

A searing pain surged through her body from her core, traveling up her spine. She felt like she was being ripped open, all her insides tearing apart and coming out with the babe.

"Good. Good," the Madam soothed, the cry of a newborn echoing in the room. "You may rest now, Elaina."

And Elaina tried, she did, but the contractions did not stop. She kept pushing and pushing. The sighs of relief all the whores let out were all that could be heard. They left Elaina to tend to the babe, ignoring her raspy breaths. Though they were still in the room, she felt so alone and helpless, lying there with her legs spread open. She assumed her body kept pushing for the afterbirth, which was something to be expected, but she didn't think it would happen so soon. She felt her body pop like a plug pulled from a drain, which she assumed was the placenta exiting her body. She finally relaxed, her body exhaling all her pain and tension.

"May I see them?" Elaina asked softly, barely containing any energy.

The women finally turned to Elaina, and the newborn swaddled in one of their arms. Their faces all paled, the Madam passing the child to another girl as she ran to her parted legs.

"Wh-what is the matter?" Elaina looked down, seeing a pool of blood between her thighs. She sat up, finally gaining the strength to move before someone could push her down as she saw her organs.

She nearly fainted in shock but willed her eyes to stay open. She could not be done until she held her child.

"My baby," she whispered, but nobody listened, everyone panicking as they tried to get Elaina's internal organs back inside. "My child," she shouted, finally finding her voice. "Give me my child."

The young girl holding the still crying babe looked to the Madam, asking permission. She nodded, hands wrist deep into Elaina's heat.

Finally, she got to hold her child, numb to the poking and prodding of people's hands inside her. She wrapped her arms around the small bundle, the child as if knowing they were in their mother's arms instantly calmed. Elaina shifted the blankets to see the babes sex, smiling to herself.

"A girl," her trembling voice whispered, covering her daughter back up and whispering her name. "My beautiful girl."

She rubbed the soft lanugo hair on her head, noticing a small block of skin lighter than the rest of her scalp, white hair growing from it. The newborn closed her eyes at her mom's soft stroking, a yawn escaping her tiny mouth, smacking her gums. She knew that her daughter would have a piece of her father with her, even if she never knew him. Elaina had never felt such love for another being in her life. How could such a small thing make her feel this way?

She was oblivious to the panicky talking of the Madam and other girls, a few entering and exiting the room with different supplies. All that mattered in the world right now was her daughter in her arms, her eyes slowly opening as she stopped stroking her head. Rings of violet wrapped around her pupils, almost sparkling in the candlelight.

Suddenly, the babe was removed from her arms, and Elaina shouted, attempting to jump out of the sweat and blood-soaked sheets, but was shoved down by four women. Her daughter's cries mirrored her mother's, wanting to be in her warm embrace again.

"Where," Elaina's breath caught in her throat, realizing how exhausted she was, "where are you taking her?"

"Elaina, calm yourself." She ignored the girl's words demanding her to hold still.

"Give me my baby! Give me back, my child," she screamed, but no one listened, holding her down with all their strength.

"I need to stitch you up, Elaina! The babe tore you down to your arse!" The Madam shouted, getting frustrated with her violent squirming.

"I do not care! Give me back my child!"

"Restrain her."

"We are trying, Madam," the four girls responded as Elaina managed to free a leg and kick one of them in the face.

"Get her Milk of the Poppy, now."

It was only mere moments before a whore came in with a small glass bottle, asking another girl to help her open her mouth as she poured the liquid. Slowly, Elaina began to calm, her thrashing coming to a halt as her mind left the realm. Her child still wailed its deafening cries, never ceasing even as her mother settled.

"There, there little one," the girl who had taken her cooed. "It's alright. Your mama will make it out alright. I am sure of it." The babe continued to cry, almost as if she could sense her lies.

"Lyra, shut her up or leave the room," the Madam said, her voice returning to her routine. Lyra chose the latter, closing the door quietly behind her as she rocked the newborn in her arms.

The infection took Elaina Black in three days' time. Even though they managed to stitch her together, her insides still kept coming out. It was as if her body refused to heal without her daughter's presence. The Madam refused to let the child see her dying mother for fear that she would somehow make her sick, but she could not handle seeing her in that state. She felt like a failure. Letting one of her whores get pregnant in the first place was shameful enough, but her dying from said pregnancy under her care was terrible. She was supposed to take care of her girls, and she failed.

It was early in the morning, a week after Elaina's death, and all the brothel women were confused about why the Madam decided to call a meeting instead of letting them sleep. They all gathered around in the small room they designated for meals, waiting for Madam to address them finally. She was babbling to the bundle in her arms, letting her play with the finger she was swirling over in her face.

"I called you all here today because word has gotten to me. Rumors that some of you have broken our unspoken agreement to keep the child safe," she spoke, her eyes never leaving the babe.

"Madam," Lyra spoke up before anyone else could dig them a deeper grave. "We would never put the child at risk. Whatever whispers you have heard are false."

Madam hummed in response, finally looking at the frightened girls. "You all know her parentage and why she should be kept out of your mouths, and yet," she paused, looking at every one of their faces, "someone has spoken, and word has made it to the Red Keep." They gasped, knowing what this could mean for them and their business.

"The child is my concern, and I want no word of her to anyone. Do you understand?" The sternness in her voice was enough to make even the strongest of men falter. "Or I will have you all kicked to the streets."

They all nodded without protest, knowing that she would follow those threats. Madam took a breath, turning around to dismiss them as she kissed the babes forehead wordlessly, her purple-lined iris' glinting up at her. She knew she wouldn't be able to hide her from the royal family forever, but she would try. She'd be damned if she failed you too.

Several Years Later...

You giggled as you ran along the Streets of Silk, a mischievous grin plastered on your face as you dropped a few apples from your tiny arms. A few City Watchmen chased after you, and their shouts for you to halt fell deaf on your ears. You weaved your way through the crowds of people like a snake in the grass while the guardsmen ran through them like bulls, bumping into almost everyone they saw.

It was easy for you to get away, slinking down an alley and hiding behind a corner in your dark cloak. You turned, making sure the men ran past before you stepped out of the shadows, putting the rest of the apples into your brown satchel but leaving one out to eat. You took a bite, smiling triumphantly that you had gotten away with your crime as you skipped back to your home in Flea Bottom.

You had just reached the back entrance of the brothel you called home, always listening to what Madam said as it burst open, revealing an incredibly drunk patron as you fell to the dirty sandstone, the cloak of your hood dropping.

"Ouch," you cried, rubbing the back of your head from where it hit the ground. All the apples roll from your bag.

You looked up at the man, only to realize it wasn't. It was a young boy, barely looking at the age of ten and three, with a leather patch over his left eye and tears in the other. He, too, had a cloak of his own, now pushed back and revealing hair as white as snow. It took you a moment to comprehend what that meant, a young boy with hair like that, but then you realized, quickly scrambling up into a clumsy bow.

"Your grace, I-I did not mean to-"

A hard shove knocked you back to the ground, but this time you caught yourself staring at him with an angry look. You knew you couldn't do anything to him, he was royalty, but that did not stop you from trying.

"Get away from me whore. I have had enough of you." The prince rubbed his tear-stained cheeks with his sleeve as you attempted to get up again, but he pushed you back down, stepping on your hand as he ran away.

It was your turn to cry now, the pain and anger mixing as you whimpered, clutching your hand to your chest. What had you done to offend him so dearly? It was his fault he ran into you. Maybe he could have seen you if he wasn't such a baby. You did nothing wrong. You had half a mind to chase after him for hurting you the way he did as you got up, debating if you could catch up to him in time. You probably could. He was a selfish, pampered palace ass, not a street rat like you.

"A bit young to be whoring yourself out, aren't you? But I suppose it never hurts to start young." A tall but stocky man stood in the door frame, eyes roaming your body. He had the same white hair as the boy from before, only shorter and curly and reeking of sweat. You stepped back, trying your best not to scrunch your nose up in disgust at his smell.

"I am not a whore," you spat, putting your hands on your hips. He crossed his legs, still leaning in the doorway as he observed you, an almost calculating look on his face.

"Ah, my apologies then, dear maiden. I only meant whore in training," he said with a smirk. You scoffed, fixing your pouch as you knelt to pick up the red apples on the ground.

"Hardly. I do not whore myself, nor will I ever."

"A pity," he said, crouching down to be level with you, "for I would love to see your body once fully grown."

You grabbed the last apple, ignoring his comment and putting it in your bag as he placed his hand over yours, staring into your eyes. You grew uncomfortable at his unwavering gaze, heat rising to your cheeks as he ran his fingers through your white strand of hair, comparing it to your eyes. If you weren't any brighter, it would seem like he was about to kiss you. He hummed to himself as if he was inspecting a relic he did not understand.

Your name being called sharply moved your gaze from his, standing up as you shoved the apple back into your satchel. The prince stood up, his knees cracking as a part of his tunic moved, showing an indentation of teeth in his skin, and suddenly you remembered why he was here in the first place.

"I am coming, Ma." You brushed around the stranger, his fingers ghosting your arm, sending gooseflesh throughout your body. "I brought us some apples," you offered in peace as she clutched you to her bosom, hiding your face from his.

"Thank you for your patronage, my prince. I hope on your way home, you and your brother offer the upmost discretion of your time here." She stroked your soft hair as you peeked, catching his eyes for just a moment before Madam pulled you closer. "After all, it was a joyous celebration of Prince Aemond becoming a man, and special memories like these are best kept close to the heart." You knew she was trying to protect you, as she did with any man or woman you met on accident, but this time she spoke in riddles.

A thick air of uncertainty hung between them before he responded. "Of course, Babette, I would not dream of soiling such a memory with loose lips," he replied, walking away with a curious expression. "Though," he said, causing Ma to tighten her grip on you, "I must admit, your daughter has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen." She nearly suffocated you now, shoving your face in between her breasts. "The hint of violet in them, oh, how exquisite. They remind me of my own," he turned to her with a devilish grin, "or perhaps someone else who has frequented this brothel, my Uncle, maybe?"

You weren't ignorant to his words, you knew what he was implying, but you did not have any of the same features of Daemon Targaryan. You did not have the same silver hair as him, nor the purple irises he has. You would hardly call yourself related.

"Thank you, Prince Aegon. To have my daughter be compared to the likes of royalty is the highest compliment of them all." Ma bowed her head stiffly. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a business to run."

Before he could utter another word, Madam shut the wooden door, locking it with the keys she always kept on her swaying hip. She released you, crushing your small frame with her large one.

"Oh, I love you, little one," she let go before smacking you on the side of your head. How many times were you going to get hit today? You didn't want to know. "Don't you ever talk to a stranger again, or else I will have to send Lyra to be your chaperone." You tried to squirm from her firm grip, but she tugged you closer.

"Ma, I cannot breathe," you complained. She laughed, nuzzling her face into your neck.

"If you can speak, you can breathe," she said plainly, waiting a moment before letting you go. "Now, what did you say about some apples?" You smiled, showing her the bag as she took it off your shoulder. "How did you get all of these? I did not give you that much coin."

You giggled, looking away as you tossed the money she lent you. "I am very good at haggling, Madam." She sighed, knowing you must have stolen them, as she pulled you into another hug, kissing the top of your head.

"Oh, my sweet girl, whatever shall I do with you," she jested. Half scolding and half praising that you managed to get a dozen apples on your own without getting caught.

You ignored the loud moans and squeaking beds from the rooms above, going to the cramped kitchen. You stood next to Madam as she began peeling the skin off the apples, handing you a knife to do one. Ma had made you gather some ingredients throughout the week, but she did not tell you what she was planning. She knew how much you loved this dish.

It was your mother's favorite, too, so she should have known. Madam did not make it much for her, though, as she was just one of her many whores that came and went. She did not care for Elaina until she realized the prince had taken a liking to her. He had brought in most of the brothel revenue at the time, and when Elaina fell pregnant, she was angry. Any appreciation Madam had towards her was gone. She thought Elaina's stupidity would surely bring her to ruins under the realization that she would have to refuse prince Daemon now in fear of the bastard child's life, but the Gods seemed to favor her when another prince decided to frequent the halls. He made up for any loss in profits.

Madam did not want to lose you; she had grown quite fond of you over the years and knew the girls under her care did too. She didn't want to turn Aegon away, for that was a risk she could not take, but your safety came first. She would have to be more thoughtful about this. Madam would need to pull some strings and ask some favors of people to make sure you were either hidden or not here when he came. That was the only way you could remain safe.

"Ma, will I be a whore when I am grown?" Your question nearly caused her to faint, shocked something like that would even be on your barely-of-age mind.

"No, sweet thing, you will not," she answered curtly, cutting off a big chunk of fruit instead of a peel. You paused your actions, pursing your lips in thought before asking another question.

"What will I be then? Like you?" Madam sighed through her nose, putting the apple down on the cutting board.

"If you want, yes." She placed her hands on her wide hips. What had Aegon said to you? "Why do you ask, sweet one?"

You mirrored your caretaker's actions but didn't reach her eyes. "I-I do not know, Ma. It was just a silly thought. It does not matter." She could see you recoiling within yourself, hugging your young body. Her urge to comfort you overpowered any worry she had as she softened her posture and voice.

"It is not silly for you to have thoughts. Do not ever let anyone say that to you. Everything you think or feel is valid." You furrowed your brows at her, confused at where this sudden sentiment came from. "But do not worry yourself with thoughts of the distant future; you still have the breasts of a toddler." Madam pinched your slowly stretching skin as you yelped and swatted her hand away, chastising your guardian. "Now, go to the cellar and fetch me the items you got at the market this week." Your face brightened at finally knowing what Ma was going to make you.

"Apple Muse! Oh, Ma, I love you so much," you squealed, wrapping your arms around her in a bone-crushing hug before running down a hatch. Madam smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. For now, she was worried about the thought of your future. 

I know, I know— such a boring chapter. No smut, which is crazy for me, but don't worry, it'll get nasty eventually. On that, I can promise you. ;)

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