#rhea royce lives

[hollowwhisperings]

ASOIAF Prophecy Suberversion, a HotD Fix-It.

Viserys I has a dream that he & his cousin-wife, Aemma Arryn, will have a son together and that said son will be king. Aemma reminds Viserys that he is The King and that monarchy in Westeros is Inherited: their son would be a king because Viserys is the king.

Aemma relays the tale to their young daughter, Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra, who is wholly aware of how each new pregnancy endangers her mother's life (and that both of her grandmothers died too young, of pregnancy) proposes that she, Princess Rhaenyra, take up Crossdressing as a "hobby". When she is announced as crown princess, she presents herself in full armour and with her dragon at her side. She promises to be a good king, bullrushing over any confusion by her pointing out that Westeros has "always been rulee by Kings" and "Have You Met My Dragon, Syrax?". Rhaenyra is also very publically supported by the increasingly healthy Queen Aemma, the intimidating power couple that is Lord & Lady Velaryon, and the giddy King Viserys who scandalizes the court by announcing his intention to Abdicate his throne to his daughter when she is ready. The mixed confusion and relief of, 1) not having a disinterested king in charge, 2) Prince Daemon being moved down the succession, and, 3) the various Intelligent Appointments Rhaenyra('s support network and herself) proposes settles the Court to a state of hesitant excitement. All of this is aided by the early betrothing of Ser Laenor Velaryon to the crown princess: all dragons of Westeros once again tied to the crown.

Viserys happily abdicates his crown to his daughter as soon as she is ready, Rhaenyra's kingly education long seen to by Queen Aemma, the Princess Rhaenys, Lord Velaryon and even a reluctant Lord Otto. Both parents live to see their daughter crowned King of Westeros. Her prince-consort brings along his war veteran dragon, Seasmoke, and leaves the inheritance of High Tide to his sister, Laena (who, having successfully claimed Vhagar, is treated with Utmost Respect). Prior to their marriage, Lord Baratheon and several prominent Vale lords & ladies had been appointed to court so as to Loudly And Pointedly comment on the non-incestuous family ties the couple would bring together. The court is thusly prepared for King Rhaenyra's heirs distinctly Baratheon looks, aided by Lady Laena presenting dark haired children of her own (no one asks the rider of Vhagar who, exactly, fathered her children).

One notable appointment to King Rhaenyra's court was the Lady of Runestone, Rhea Royce, who commanded great respect within the Vale and soon within King's Landing also. She alternated her time between the Keep and Runestone, doing much to enlighten the court on the look of Valemen, masculine women, and the peace of a court sans Prince Daemon. So grateful was the court for Lady Royce thay she was gifted a Favour from her king: an anulment of marriage for lack of consumnation (a detail neglected in Prince Daemon's own efforts to render himself single). This gift further advanced Lady Royce's ability to act as Daemon-Bane and she soon earned a host of suitors, who had taken well to the Fashion of presenting oneself as both masculine and feminine (as inspired by their King, her prince-consort and, according to Renowned Septon Barth, dragons as a species).

The amitions of one Otto Hightower are curtailed by then-crown princess Rhaenyra's quickly appointing the Lady Alicent as her "Mistress of Court": with Rhaenyra as king and her husband a dragonriding knight, she reasoned, the "essential duties of a queen" would be neglected... unless Rhaenyra appointed a lady of such fine ettiquette and piety as Alicent to act "queenly" in Rhaenyra's stead. Alicent's duties included holding court with ladies and smallfolk, "ensuring proper dues to the Faith", seeing to the royal educations of Rhaenyra's heirs, acting as Rhaenyra's [PR manager]... confused but convinced that his daughter would be a queen in all but name, Otto begrudgingly lent Rhaenyra his support (that he knew he would otherwise be replaced as Hand by Princess Rhaenys was an added incentive).

Amidst her preparations for the Royal Marriage of Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor, Alicent wed the renowned knight, Ser Harwin Strong, commander of the City Watch (the term "goldcloaks" very thoroughly snuffed out as soon as possible, lest it catch on). It was an open secret at court that King Rhaenyra favoured Ser & Lady Strong over most everyone else, akin to her favouring of her good-sister. Ser Harwin was committed to reforming the city's protectors whilst Lady Alicent ensured that neither the smallfolk nor the faith were without voice in Rhaenyra's Court. Lady Laena... kept the largest, strongest dragon known occupied with scouting passage over the Narrow Sea and "adventure". There were Rumours of there being more than friendship between these most favoured by the King... but such is expected of kings, said the knights (lead so nobly by Sers Laenor and Joffrey) and the court ladies (so charmed by the attentiveness of their Mistress of Court and her ever-prompt mediations between factions). The smallfolk? Ser Strong's leadership of the City Watch was vastly preferable to Prince Daemon's tyranny, Lady Alicent ensured their concerns were never forgotten, Lady Laena's efforts kept seafaring safer than ever before... and it was far more fun to speculate over the mechanics of such relations, to know that whenever such gossip reached their king's ears she laughed in good humour rather than, say, employing the Watch to cut tongues and throats.

With Rhaenyra long established as her father's heir, her great popularity and her nigh-unanimous support (she might be a woman but a King is a King, the lords would say), Prince Daemon's ambitions were much curtailed. The combined forces of Queen Mother Aemma and Princess Rhaenys kept Prince Daemon too busy for scheming: "oh, Daemon, with Rhaenyra raising her children at the Keep, who will tend to the dragons of Dragonstone?", "oh no, Laena reported unrest at the Stepstones, surely the wielder of Dark Sister could help the cause?", "Daemon, your brother hasheard word of a surviving tome of Old Valyria, won't you see to its safe arrival?". The happiness evident in the retired King served the realm's efforts most of all, the restraints of rule enabling the brothers to spend more time together and rendering Daemon's outbursts for attention unnecessary.

(when Daemon tried to gift his very young niece priceless jewellery in an intimate fashion? Oh look, there's Proud Dad Viserys to clasp the necklace around his daughter's neck and ensure the WHOLE FAMILY is witness to such FAMILIAL devotion!)

(likewise, with Aemma Arryn alive and well, Otto Hightower initially made efforts to have his sons court their "future queen" - except she's to be their King, says Lord Corlys, and her marriage will return all dragons to the crown, says Prince Daemon)

Amazing, the differences possible when mothers live to supervise their offspring's childhood. Amazing, the ways of prophecy when an Outside Opinion is taken into consideration. Amazing, the problems solvable with good publicity.

[lostchildofthenewworld]

Rating: T

It had been a septon who had married her to the prince, it would be a septon who would dissolve it.

[escailyyy]

Here's a toast to the HBO Targaryen wives who were made Targaryens by men who didn't love them

Aemma Targaryen deserved better

Alicent Targaryen Deserved better

Rhea Targaryen deserved better

Laena Targaryen deserved better

And Elia Targaryen most of all, deserved so much more better

Because if you're going to take your a-hole husband's last name and are expected to relinquish all that made you you while he makes it clear he's only there to get whatever use he can out of you. Then you sure as heck deserve better

[sugar-and-pearls]

Familial FOS PERSONALITY TYPES AND HOW THEY INTERACT WITH MINE

(I'm not going to lie, this will be MUCH longer than my previous ones)

INFP X INFP

INFPs will typically have a weird “mind-reading” connection with other INFPs. That said, these types are so individualistic that if they have opposing values their connection can be like a bomb about to explode. When INFPs have friendships with other like-minded INFPs they tend to feel heard, seen, and inspired. Together they can explore each other’s imaginative inner worlds, fight for similar causes, and listen to each other without fear of external pressures and rules.

INFP X ESFJ

Warmth and passion are often at the heart of this friendship or relationship. ESFJ/INFP partnerships can be tumultuous or deeply rewarding depending on how willing both types are to understand and respect each other. ESFJs often appreciate the quiet tenderness of INFPs. INFPs can help them to tap into a deeper, truer sense of who they are and what they value. In contrast, ESFJs can provide INFPs with a friendly, down-to-earth haven with which to be themselves and share their ideas.

INFP X ESFP

These two types tend to click because they have a shared passion for authenticity and adventure. ESFPs can help break INFPs out of their shell and introduce them to a variety of exciting experiences. Their enthusiasm and fun-loving nature is often endearing to INFPs. In turn, INFPs can help ESFPs to tap into their emotions more fully and experience life with more depth and imagination. These types tend to bounce ideas and possibilities off each other well, with the ESFP wanting to immediately take action on ideas and the INFP going along for the ride and frequently enjoying the thrill!

INFP X ESTJ

ESTJs and INFPs tend to have fiery interactions – sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a bad way. They are opposites in many ways while still sharing the same cognitive functions. ESTJs are often drawn to the quiet sensitivity and creativity of INFPs while INFPs are drawn to the pragmatic, logical nature of ESTJs. If both types can be patient with each other’s differences there is a lot of opportunity in this friendship or partnership for personal growth and broader perspectives.

INFP X ISFP

ISFPs and INFPs tend to have a really strong and powerful connection almost immediately. They both are dominant introverted feeling types, so they naturally give each other space to be themselves. They are both idealistic and visionary, with ISFPs having a more down-to-earth, pragmatic bent while INFPs are more focused on imagination and conceptualization. Together they can broaden each other’s worlds and help each other to have more open-minded, balanced perspectives.

INFP X INFJ

INFJs and INFPs share a mutual love of meaningful, deep conversation. These types tend to thrive as friends when they give each other space to be their authentic selves. While they share none of the same cognitive functions, because they share three preferences (Introversion, Intuition, Feeling) they tend to respect each other’s individual needs, empathize readily, and connect over ideas and possibilities.

INFP x INTJ

While these types might seem like opposites at first glance, they actually have quite a bit in common. They both look inward to their values and outwards to efficacy when they make decisions. They are both introverts and intuitives. They enjoy exploring ideas, theories, and possibilities together. They also respect each other’s personal values and autonomy.

INFP X ESTP

ESTJs and INFPs tend to have fiery interactions – sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a bad way. They are opposites in many ways while still sharing the same cognitive functions. ESTJs are often drawn to the quiet sensitivity and creativity of INFPs while INFPs are drawn to the pragmatic, logical nature of ESTJs. If both types can be patient with each other’s differences there is a lot of opportunity in this friendship or partnership for personal growth and broader perspectives.

INFP X INTP 

INTPs and INFPs have a shared love of freedom, exploration, and autonomy. INTPs prefer thinking over feeling so they may come across as overly blunt to INFPs, and INFPs may come across as overly-sensitive to INTPs. However, once they get to understand each other there’s usually a very strong bond and mutual appreciation. Both respect each other’s space to feel and think what they want and both have a creative energy that is inspiring to the other.

INFP X ISFJ 

ISFJs and INFPs create a bubble of warmth and empathy for each other. These types usually click very quickly. They share a mutual sense of empathy, warmth, and gentleness. At the same time, ISFJs bring a more grounded presence to the relationship while INFPs help to clarify values, bring ISFJs into their pure identity, and give a spark of imagination. These types share two cognitive functions: Extraverted Intuition and Introverted Sensation. Because of this, while they have some differences, there is still a mutual sense of comfort here.

INFP X ENTJ

ENTJs and INFPs are very different at first glance, but these two types can really help each other grow. INFPs are often inspired by the big-picture, strategic, action-oriented nature of the ENTJ. ENTJs in turn find the warmth, authenticity, and imagination of the INFP intriguing. They can both help each other in contrasting ways. ENTJs can help INFPs bring their ideas to life and tap into their thinking side. They can also help them refine their ideas and create strategies for their realization. INFPs, in turn, can help ENTJs delve into their deeper feelings and values. They can also help them to see innovative alternatives and possibilities so they don’t get stuck in tunnel vision.

INFP X ENTP

ENTPs and INFPs share a mutual love of exploration, imagination, and creativity. While these types can have some friction due to their differing judging processes (ENTPs are auxiliary thinkers and INFPs are dominant feelers), these same differences can help them grow as individuals. This friendship or relationship pairing may be a little fiery and argumentative at times, but if both types can work at understanding each other’s type preferences it can also be one of growth and refinement.

[naerys-arryn]

Daella lives and HotD:

Shortly after Aerion's birth:

Rhea, pushing past Daemon with the strenght of 10 men: Move, dragon man!

Rhea: Naerys! Congratulations on a smooth birth and a adorable baby...

Naerys: Boy! Meet Aerion!

Rhea: Ohhhh he looks so grumpy! ❤️

Daemon: Can't believe you pushed me.

Rhea: Can't believe you're already back to hogging my best friend, and now my new little buddy, Aerion to boot.

Daemon: Again, my wife and you just meet my son!

Rhea: And I can already tell I'm gonna be his favorite person after his mama 😛

And then she’s right and Daemon is just :///

[tbtgtr-incorrectquotes]

Daella lives:

Making myself sad by thinking about kid Rhea at the Eyrie, seeing Daella be a doting mother to the twins and Rhea going "I never had that" bc Yobert sucks

Naerys: She can be your mama too!

Rhea: Really?

Naerys: Well if you marry me—

[merricatblackwoods]

oh look its hotd oc fixit fanfic idea i will never write (that is connected to my got fanfic i will also never write)

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: The reader is Aemond’s new bride, a match fixed some time before Viserys’s death. Daemon’s daughter through Lady Royce navigates through a difficult now into a new chapter of being married to the one eyed prince, council and war.

warnings: daemon being an awful dad, Luke’s death, attachment issues, angst, slow burn, arranged marriage

word count: 5.1k

Part 1. Part 2

-

Worlds changed, dragons spew fire, flowers burnt and flowers bloomed, children born and doomed. Y/n, Daemon Targeryn’s first born through Lady Rhea Royce. A child he had despised ever since her birth, just an extension for his hatred towards Lady Royce in the first place. He could never stand her, having been forced to his duties he hated her even more. He was never around for the aftermath of anything, the rogue prince who knew no bounds. The child wasn’t even half a year old when he mercilessly put an end to Lady Royce. The ‘accident’ left the child at the kindness of pitiful wet nurses and the castle staff.

King Viserys however couldn’t stand such tragedy over and over, he generally refrained from interfering his brother’s life. He did regret his decision of marrying daemon to someone against his will but he could not have anticipated such a harsh counter reaction via Daemon. Especially after the babe, Viserys thought the child could perhaps soften the coldness of their relations but it only got worse. The king wished to seek some atonement at least for the sake of the child. Y/n, the princess, away at the grasslands of Runestone. He arranged for her to live at the red keep, a motherless child with an absent father would do better within her present family. The King’s children through alicent were mere babies themselves. The maids, the kind Queen herself, would do well to look after the infant. After all the red keep was her house just as much as it was Daemon’s despite his grievance towards it. Her dragon too was well looked after through the keeps instead of Runestone staff. Her dragon was just a hatchling as y/n too was a baby herself.

Alicent, younger at the time. The keep’s staff, mastered in squalling babies and fussy infants. Y/n wasn’t a bother at all. Not that she were to remember but Queen alicent was kinder to her than the fates had been, she nursed her like one of her own. Such fondness and softness towards daughters, it was nice enough. At least for a while. Y/n was six by the time daemon had come for Rhaenyra’s wedding, then off with Laena. No familiarity between the six year old y/n and her father. Too young to understand her family setting and Daemon still rancour.

Daemon had two daughters with the driftmark princess, viserys deemed him capable enough to raise y/n then. He decided to send little y/n back to her father, viserys wanted his brother to accept his daughter. Alicent had a smaller voice at that time yet she tried to reason with her husband to let y/n be at the keep. Daemon had to accept his brother’s whim anyways so he did. Viserys was as relieved as Alicent was anxious that y/n was in Pentos. King made the decision in good faith, if only he put a bit more distrust in daemon than he did trust. Daemon was still the same, y/n, still a child and he did nothing to make her feel included or at home. She learnt to keep to herself how she had seen Haelena do. Still quite young to comprehend where all such distaste came from, all these different people, different land. She longed to call a place home, her memories of the red keep, Alicent, the others it kept fading because she was but a baby back then. Her father wouldn’t teach y/n how to ride on dragon back how he did with her half sisters. But y/n had taught it to herself. Watching she learnt, she didn’t have to be told explicitly what to do. She fell a lot, on her face and back but she learnt anyways.

As years passed nothing changed between y/n and her father, her half sisters were company enough time to time but she was always in their orbit and not as close. All until Driftmark, they lost lady Laena. Y/n was in her early teens and she tried to be there for Baela and Rhaena. She stood by their side through their mother’s funeral. She understood the gravity of such tragedy, she lived with that grief all her life for her mother who was a stranger she never even met. But she mourned her longer than she’d known her.

Reunited with Alicent, gaining a distasteful look from Daemon. “You’ve grown so much” Alicent remarked as she pulled the girl into her embrace. Both of them looked so much different from when they last met each other. The girl had distant memory of the queen but her warmth was nicer than she had known anyone else’s. Despite the occasion alicent was brought some peace of mind seeing Y/n, she didn’t look her best but at least not the worst. She didn’t have to ask y/n to know if Daemon spoke to her, if she felt at home. She reintroduced y/n to her children, some of them y/n didn’t even remember through faces if not for name.

“She was such a small babe.” Helaena commented as she greeted the young girl. It had been years since Helaena had seen her. Aegon and Aemond just stood with disinterest, Aemond trying to mask it otherwise regardless.

After the tragedy that was which followed Laena’s death upon the nightfall of her funeral. Aemond’s eye was taken and it was a rather gruesome unfolding. A night which left a permanent distance between families. A mark which shaped Aemond for years to come.

As the years followed, dragonstone proved to be just as dreary and awfully lonely for y/n. None of her half siblings were her own or ever treated her as such, unsolicited kindness was all she would get here and there and she had accepted surviving it. Thinking of lives far away, a place where life would begin. But it was perhaps never. As King Viserys’s health worsened the queen and hand took matters into their own hands bit by bit.

The queen, declared that it is but the king’s wish for Aemond to be married with y/n, Daemon’s firstborn. Viserys was asked about it, surely, his decision was firm and wearily elated about the marriage so what does it matter who pitched the thought as long as the king agreed. Aemond was agitated. He did not want it, at all. For the ever present and abiding Aemond he had a rift with the thought of marriage to y/n. But he kept his shortcomings to himself.

Even more so mortified was y/n, she didn’t remember how exactly was her childhood at the red keep but she did recall that ever since driftmark, that family would surely not have a soft heart for her. “Father please don’t-please don’t make me do this” she pleaded Daemon.

“It is the King, my brother’s wish.” Daemon said in a disregard of her wish, surprisingly he was fine with his brother’s second hand wish too. Daemon was aware that the Hightower queen and Otto is who pulled all the strings and his brother was a bed ridden king but this was a decision in his favour as long as he could be rid of y/n.

“You cannot marry me off like this!” She exclaimed, for someone who rarely expressed thoughts to daemon. Something she learnt in all those years with being met with cold shoulder all of life, she had to fight for her life as of now. “Not to Aemond, please father please, I do not know any of them-“

“You do. You have spent most of your childhood at the hip of that Hightower queen you will be just fine.” Daemon scoffed with a bit of condescension in his voice. Indifference as he referred to Alicent.

“I do not remember them” y/n tried to reason, any wet nurse could show sympathy to a high born motherless child she did not account to be in a marriage with that sympathy at this stage in her life. “They are complete strangers, father, please I will stay wherever you ask please don’t marry me off!”

“You are of age, y/n. This is a fitting decision for you!” He exclaimed with growing irritation at this conversation, daemon never paid mind to her moreover chose not to and hence he had expected her to show nothing but compliance.

“For me or for you?” She asked with a bitter huff looking away from her father already losing hope in this conversation, she couldn’t stomach this decision without letting him know her repulsion of it. “You are so eager to wash your hands off of me as if I have ever wronged you, all my life, I’ve never asked for anything-“

“Haven’t you?!” Daemon said loudly, his rage visible in his tone “The fact that you exist is asking too much of me as it is. You are an awful reminder and a mistake. I have been subjected to duty and honour and it is only fair if you are too. It is your duty, if not to me then to the King.” With that the door was slammed as the rogue prince walked out, an ironic vision of her life.

A bitter goodbye and an uncertain life with little to no hope y/n was set for the red keep, glancing back at dragonstone for one last time. She didn’t know if she held any homely softness for that place in her heart but she presumed the life which awaited her would be more dreary than the stone.

The wedding was an intimate affair, a small ceremony but still a lot of strangers y/n had never seen. Daemon refrained from attending but it was no surprise. She was met with warmth and affection from her mother in law and her family but not her husband to be, they were all a strange set of people down here in the south from the maids to the king himself who didn’t even sit on the throne yet made decisions.

Even the most beautiful flowers would wither away at the heavy heart of the new bride of new title, the princess. She couldn’t stand her person she was becoming or moreover the mere idea of what she had to be. Aemond wouldn’t even share the same bad as her, almost every night for the first week. He’d rather sleep on the sofa or some nights he’d just never return from wherever he wandered off to.

Barely getting the grasp of it, small domestic solaces just everytime she was with Halena and her mother in law, tending to her niece and nephew. The only time she felt less alone but she was familiar with the loneliness, that wasn’t the problem. It was the nerve wrecking confusion and uncertainty that followed after, eating her alive every night that she would lay. Within strangers now, she felt a stranger to herself too.

Days passed, circumstances arose: the king fell. Aegon was declared the king, a restless unease of an upcoming war. The hand’s very first decision was passing daemon’s seat on the council to y/n. “What?” She asked wide eyed as the hand and queen pitched it to her. “Why, me? I’m not even that learned…” she trailed off.

“You spend most of your time in the library, you happen to have a knack for reading. I’m assuming you can write too?” Otto questioned, if more number of people on the council were his own to mould and speak for the rule would be so much easier.

“Yes but just letters and scrolls..” she trailed off with a sigh, it was rather strange they would approach her for something as important as the council in the first place.

“We need sharp mind of a soft heart on the council.” Alicent said as she caressed her daughter in law’s cheek, with a smile to put some confidence in her. Despite her father’s motives of having y/n on the council, Alicent believed y/n would prove to be rather fruitful and genuine.

“It is also your birthright, through your father’s seat on King Viserys’s council. It is only right if you were to be a part of it.” Otto added in an encouraging manner. The pieces were being set already, as the blacks were processing their own steps.

They had Aemond set to go meet lord Dorros the very next morrow, with a bribe of the crown’s coin and loyalty. The forces set, Aegon’s coronation done. Just one last afternoon council left. Aegon, riding the high of his coronation wasn’t present in this one.

Everyone took their respective seats, it was an eventful morning’s slow afternoon. The coronation was as eventful as it was unpleasant with the beast beneath the boards. Sending out scrolls to other lords, the council discussed it. Y/n didn’t say anything, just listening. Writing out the needed scrolls, Alicent quietly remarked her beautiful hand at the words.

The door slammed open as Aemond entered, he was enraged at his wife’s seat on the council. “Aemond.” Alicent said as the room stiffened.

“What is this?” He asked with as his brows furrowed, he felt very wronged and partially frustrated that his lady wife had a seat on the council above him.

“It’s a meeting.” Otto declared as he looked back from the board back to Aemond, “Not yet done, what is your business here?”

“What is she doing here?” Aemond inquired as he leant over a chair, more belonging in this room than anyone else. Especially his wife, he thought to himself the other members with an awkward look on their face.

“She has a seat extended on the king’s council after her own father, daemon.” Otto filled him in on the subject, visibly disinterested.

“Daemon’s claim on the council died with my father’s death. She holds no such extension.” Aemond reasoned calmly, very much opposed to the irritation rising inside him.

“I’m still a hand to the king aren’t I? Your mother is on the council. Lord Tyland-“ Otto replied back but was interrupted by Aemond midway before he made his point.

“None of them sworn against Aegon. Daemon has called for the pretender hence his seat on this council holds no significance.” Aemond scoffed looking down at his wife who sat, scrolls lay in front of her and a pen in her hand. She felt overwhelmed with such necessary distaste, the hand to the king and queen mother herself asked her to join the council yet Aemond had an issue. It’s not as if she were to act against the interest of the crown or make big decisions to begin with.

“She is the princess. Your lawfully wedded wife, in the eyes of the gods and all the members of this very council and more. Despite Daemon’s treachery and your incoherent jealousy she belongs here.” Otto said breaking Aemond’s mouth, he knew which nerve to exactly hit. Saying Aemond was jealous, of his lady wife’s seat in front of everyone. It was enough to send him seething back and he was right. With a huff as he stared down at y/n, he turned to his heel at left.

Everyone had their accustomed part with a potential war brewing. Aemond had to leave to meet lord borros next morning. Y/n assumed he would be calculating and supposedly busy with his task at hand yet he found time to cause a scene at the council. Y/n knew that nobody on the council saw her as a threat because they all knew of daemon’s indifference for her. The black sheep. In truth she didn’t owe her father any loyalty either so their calculations were correct, her husband however.

She planned to avoid him regardless, spending the rest of the day with the twins, Helaena talking her ear off about her fixated spider and y/n loved that too. Jaehaera was playing with y/n’s hair, adding her toys into it making improper braids. Jahaerys running in circles and hoarding his toys in y/n’s lap as she enjoyed a conversation with their mother.

Alicent walked in, for a moment just taking in the domesticity of the scene. The serenity, the girls laughing. It was rather rare before y/n to see Helaena at peace like this. She entered with a soft knock greeting everyone and she took a seat next to y/n, “Children you must retire your auntie now, it’s rather late!”

“It’s alright mother, it’s not that late.” protested, Haelena she enjoyed y/n’s company as much as the whining children, Jaehaera caged y/n in her tiny arms from her back to not let her go. However through alicent’s hesitant eyes y/n realised she must have some sort of business to discuss.

“Forgive me my loves I am growing a bit tired…but I’m not going anywhere I’d be back soon enough!” She said with a sigh as she kissed the twins goodbye, both of them a bit protestant but let her go eventually. “Good evening, Helaena.” She smiled and bid her goodbye as well and exited with her mother in law.

After they were out in the hallway, secluded of other ears Alicent proceeded “Are you alright?”

“Yes, your grace” y/n replied with a non hesitant nod, in an instant with a smile confused why would that question come up.

“Mother.” She corrected her stopping on her way to turn to face her.

“-Mother.” Y/n said with a soft smile rephrasing her title.

“After…today’s council. You have been avoiding Aemond?” She asked searching for y/n’s dreary eyes.

“No-that is not the case” y/n shook her head trying to formulate a better answer given she hadn’t asked that question to herself. Because in a sense she was avoiding Aemond. “I—“ she breathed “I am rather anxious.”

“Of what? Does he speak to you in an ill manner? Do you wish for me to talk to him?” Alicent inquired concerned for her hesitation of Aemond’s lashing out or whatever it was she was trying to avoid.

“No-no it’s not that…I just feel guilty. He wants an authority, his opinion to be heard at council level and I get that place before him, we’re not at the best terms to begin with and now he must be cross with me” Y/n explained her worry with a sigh.

“And? It is your right, y/n.” Alicent said as she took her hand into hers in an affirming way, “you must never feel guilty for claims that are solely yours.” She explained, “as of Aemond, he can be difficult sometimes, but I assure you he isn’t malevolent. He loves you.”

The Queen mother’s assurance felt it came from a place of gentle constitution and the motherly naïveté of overlooking some things but y/n was more than aware that Aemond did anything but love her. She was familiar with lack of warmth, affection, just so far from it she could almost find strange ways to dwell in it. It was an emotion she knew for so long, from her father’s house to her husband’s, bricks of her old life and no love.

But she did not tell alicent of her wearies, after all she did not worry about it she was at terms with it. But she was worried meeting Aemond, as of now, she walked the hallway to their shared bedchamber with heavy breaths. Aemond was looking out the giant window, he had a journey to make the next morning to the baratheons yet he wasn’t resting or preparing. Much to y/n’s demise she hoped he’d be off somewhere else. She closed the door behind her as she entered, Aemond never talked to her generally. She never spoke unless spoken to but today silence weighed heavy between the two of them.

“The meeting ran late did it?” Aemond asked without looking back at her, he could tell from the soft stride who entered their chambers.

“No, I was with Helaena…” She trailed off growing strangely anxious because she felt answerable to him. As if it would compensate him and that was her burden to bear. “The meeting was rather trivial”

“Was it now?” He scoffed in a bigger way and turned to face her, “You must have provided the trivial meeting with your other worldly wit and understanding of warfare.”

“Aemond” she said taking in a sharp breath, meaning to tread carefully “I know you are upset. Believe me I did not know beforehand of the planning nor was it offered to me, the hand-queen mother they deemed it as my duty and right and I did not have other choice otherwise I would’ve asked you…”

“Asked me what?” Aemond interrogated crossing his arms as he leant against the stone pillar, her feigning nonchalance and false sympathy irritated him to no end.

“To take my place” she answered. She meant it in a genuine sense because she did not hold the same passion or want for a seat on the King’s council the way Aemond did. It was far from her. “I’d rather you take my place, I have no wish for authority on the council. I could ask the hand to-“

“You truly are the imbecile I presumed you to be.” He said assertively as he stiffened, his shoulders tight. “Are you that naive? Do you think I would need your help to put myself on the council? Yours?” He said as he huffed, berating her was his intention. Y/n remained silent, unmoving in her place no matter however she tried and help him or soften the rift in their marriage he was always imbecile from it. In the meantime he walked a bit closer to her, towering over her given his taller stature he leant forward by a bit to make himself appear intimidating.

“My apologies then.” She muttered lowering her gaze from his because she felt rather scrutinised by him as if she was at fault for something, as if she had wronged him. “Excuse me” she said before he could reply and attempted to retreat away to the adjoint bathroom. Wait out him falling asleep or leaving. The newlywed with their peculiar marriage of indifference.

-

Aemomd’s return from his errand with the Baratheon lord contained of a difficult detour nobody had anticipated. Rather difficult, to navigate such a blow through warfare. The council, y/n merely heard and spoke four sentences on an average, was shocked. No idea of action status not war treading. Circumstance heavy on everyone. Shame and disregard.

Sitting by the burning lamp, late evening, the scrolls and letters were to be written with such urgency after what happened with lucerys y/n had to take it to her own desk. Too busy with the works she barely processed the loss yet, she did not know Lucerys as a brother but an acquaintance who was rather kind to her all those years.

She barely looked up when the door opened, only when Aemond drew closer. Rather too close to her desk, he leant on the table where she was writing. Close to where she was sitting he breathed heavily. Putting the pen down and the scroll aside y/n looked up at him. “What did the king say?”

“The king?” Aemond repeated with a small laugh, he was still getting used to the new titles but referring those even behind closed doors was somewhat strange. “Aegon, he is not the most serious about it. Collateral damage he said.” Aemond repeated the words, he was never fond of the bastard himself but he never planned to take such drastic step. “Grand sire had a lot to say and mother, she is disappointed. Perhaps everyone is disappointed?” He asked emphasising ‘everyone’ referring to her. He did not know of his lady wife’s connection with the Strong boy but his own mother had a dislike for him and yet she was disappointed.

“I don’t know warfare as good as the lot of you, but” she nodded to his previous implication of being disappointed in a way, such loss must be difficult to stomach for those really close. “It is a lot…”

“Do you grieve him?” Aemond asked, his tone non threatening nor interrogative, subtly calm.

Pausing y/n thought about it for a moment, she was quick to side with the hand’s cold and calculative decisions as her mother in law suggested writing Rhaenyra letters instead, y/n herself weighed heavy on practicality as if grief was non existent. In a way it was. “I don’t know” she said puzzled “We were never close but he was kind to me, not all of them and not everytime but whenever he could be…” she trailed off. “He was easily anxious about a lot of things, scared.” Last time she had seen him it was the dinner for King Viserys upon the discussion to heir of driftmark. The scene that followed that dinner was distant in y/n’s mind until now. The same inferior fright was in Luke’s eyes that day.

Aemond did not say anything, her words made him feel guilty even more so but he would never display to anyone. He fought for his life debating to the council, to grandsire that it was an accident however not enough for him to take accountability of it as if he had done something wrong. He knew he had, but he did not show it. He could not. It did not come from a place of sympathy nor altruistic intentions but an ambush of unsolicited guilt. “Is it true?” She asked him.

“What is?” He replied as her voice pulled him out of his thought and his gaze met hers, she still sat on the desk the soft orange hue of the lantern on her face.

“You hold no regret?” She asked him referring to the conversation he had with the council when he was confronted about what happened. He did not owe his truthfulness to anyone, especially not the council.

The heavy silence between the two of them told her more than his words could, her eyes softened as he pondered his unsaid exoneration. Nobody would believe him but she might just, “I did not mean for that to happen, nor did I plan it.”

There was a crack in his demeanour, very different from how he presented himself back in front of everyone else about the the whole ordeal. Accountability seeping in and he should know, “Acting bigger than the situation won’t provide you with the atonement you are looking for.” She told him, forgetting herself when he asked for her advice and she assumed in such delicate state of mind he would rather lash out than listen but he did not. He was present, here to listen. To her? So far he had made it so very clear that he held no regard for her whatsoever.

“I am not looking for atonement.” He said more to himself than to her in a gentle tone and a hint of lostness in his expression. He longed for something, some consolation of some kind but he did not know exactly what and he felt restless with heavy emotions.

“You are.” She answered for the question he did not ask out loud, however the epiphany of it was not lost on him as he looked at her like an open wound. He did not protest her because she was right, she held the answers to herself. She could think for him despite of what he did and it unsettled him in some way because he had never felt such softness of anyone else. To know that he had done something he would have to seek atonement for and…hold regard for him still?

“Do you see me differently then?” He asked, small fright creeping him on the inside if she affirmed his answer.

“No” she replied without hesitation nor enthusiasm, she did see him less ruthless and uncaring than she had previously known him to be but she did not tell him that in this state of mind of his. However the heavy silence and the remorseful tension was too much to bear. She stood up from her chair seemingly to leave and attend some other task, just then realising he stood rather close. Before she could attempt to move away he stopped her. Holding her by her wrist he pulled her close but he was already close enough, the distance shortening this small for the first time since their wedding.

“Do you truly, not see differently?” He asked again with searching eyes. He couldn’t do with her short no however affirming as it was it wasn’t absorbing. It did not feed to his shame and guilt.

Y/n did not know how to soothe his wearies, she never thought her perception would matter to him at all. The walls within their marriage came crumbling down as he held her wrist it seemed, she wasn’t going away yet he kept a hold of her. To ground himself more than her. After staring into his eye for what seemed like an eternity she simply pulled him into her embrace, in a tight embrace. Her arms holding his broad stature the best they could, raising on her toes to bring him as close as she could.

Aemond was stunned to say, for a moment. He could not fathom she would want to tread so gently with him after what he had done he did not expect such, such softness. As he enlaced his arms around her waist, hugging her back as he raised her closer to him. His person. He had never felt such warmth and love of hands that would show soft affection even after knowing his ugly work, he was met with her comfort when he deserved retribution. It nestled his spirit in a serene place, he worried the place would vanish if he let go off her so he didn’t. He kept holding her close to him, closer of it was possible as he buried his face by the crook of her neck.

After a while she pulled away but not entirely, resting her temple against his. His soft breath on her as she sighed closing her eyes. He followed to, until he met her gaze again. His impulse wanted to touch her face to make sure she was real, that this moment was. So he did. Fixing the loose strand of her hair behind her ear he cupped her face. She did not move away, heart racing in such gentle exchange between the two of them. It was a first and he did not want her to extend her boundaries for his sake but he could not stop himself, he brushed his lips against her.

Indulging in a passionate kiss, holding her face in his hands as if she was made of porcelain. It was the first time somebody had held y/n with such fragility. Such affection was very foreign to her all her life, even the kiss on their wedding day felt forced and ceremonial. But this felt real, it was. She kissed him back and held him close, standing in the light of a desk lantern, the moonlight seeping in and lovers who might just be alright.

—

—part 2.

I am sorry if this feels rushed, i skipped season 1 bc i want to do all of s2…please let me know what you think in the comments 💕

If you want to be in the taglist pls comment AND go drink water RIGHT NOW ILY SO MUCH !!!!!!!!

-

[sl-ut]

a prince’s desire

so sorry if this sucks lol I just got really high and wrote this in like 2 hours lolol

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!pregnant!reader x daemon targaryen

description: after being reunited with her lover, rhaenyra takes her back to dragonstone to join her family and requests that daemon take her as a second wife. now, over a year after the wedding, rhaenyra wants nothing more than to see her wife pregnant, and daemon is more than happy to oblige.

warnings: SMUT, pregnancy, reader gets pretty depressed while she's preggo, mentions of masturbation, angst, slight canon divergence, alcohol consumption, mentions of (consensual) adultery turned polyamory, mentions of death (adult and children :((( ), polygamy, swearing, all other canon warnings (incest (i try my hardest to not lay this one on thick bc ew), violence, sexism, etc)

words: 5K

date posted: 27/03/24

previous installments: a princess's order a lady's demand

After his third marriage, Daemon Targaryen had absolutely no intentions of taking another wife. His history with married life had not necessarily been a good one; Rhea Royce had been nothing but a royal pain in his ass; He’d been happy with Laena, though her life came to an end far too soon; He did love Rhaenyra, though ambition and pride often came between them. Mistresses, sure–Daemon was a rather insatiable man, and Rhaenyra had been almost consistently pregnant during their early years of marriage, but he’d never even once considered that he might have to stand through yet another wedding ceremony, especially one that had been arranged and encouraged by his still living wife and future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. 

He hadn’t been at all surprised when Rhaenyra confessed to him that she had once loved her childhood friend, nor that she did not think that she would ever truly be able to move past the conflict between them or love another quite the same. Of course, she loved Daemon, and even Laenor and Harwin to some degree, but none would ever stand up to her very first love that she’d allowed to slip through her fingers like running water. He was equally unsurprised to find that she’d not returned to their rooms on their first night back in King’s Landing, nor that she would return in the early hours of the morning with a familiar glow that he’d only seen on her after their own late night activities, especially since he’d caught wind earlier in the evening that Lady Y/n Y/l/n had returned to the capitol a widow.

There were things that he had expected from this relationship; The two would fuck, of course, to make up for lost time, they would spend the majority of their days strolling through the gardens as they had done when they were girls, and Y/n would perhaps even return to Dragonstone with them as her mistress. Daemon could not exactly blame his wife for her affections, Lady Y/n was undeniably beautiful, and he would certainly take her to bed if he were ever given the chance. She could remarry, of course, she was still young and she’d already proven herself to be fertile, even if the children had not survived infancy. Any man would be a fool to turn her away, which is exactly why Daemon found himself standing before her on the black-sand shores of Dragonstone, a chalice between them and blood dripping from either of their lips. Rhaenyra had watched on with glee, rushing forward the moment that the ceremony had been complete to engulf her new wife in a tight embrace, sealing their own union with a firm kiss. 

Daemon had not been included in the wedding night activities, though he had been invited to watch, which he did so from the balcony of their chambers in order to give them their own space. Rhaenyra’s body had been glowing in the candle light, curves and smooth, milky skin on display for him and their new wife to admire as they both had time and time again in the past. Daemon could not tear his gaze away from their new wife’s figure, no matter how hard he tried. He blamed it on the novelty of having a new wife, especially one that he was not even able to touch on their wedding night, and he might have reacted the same way if he were to see any woman naked for the first time. He stroked himself on the balcony, low grunts leaving his lips as her moans reached his ears, eyes tracing over her breasts, the pudge of her stomach, the curve of her spine, and–oh… he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a woman’s core glisten like that before, nor had he ever heard such a prominent squelch as the Targaryen princess dipped her fingers inside. He’d always known she was a beautiful lady, but now, oh now he was able to understand to some degree why Rhaenyra was so strongly under her spell. 

Just over a year had passed, and Daemon had still yet to enjoy his newest wife to the extent that he would have liked. He did enjoy getting to know her personally, finding her much more amusing than he had expected, and they often found themselves sitting together in the evenings while Rhaenyra was busy with her royal duties. They had kissed each other on several occasions, and she had once allowed him to kneel beneath her skirts one evening after a tad too much wine, but nothing further had developed in their physical relationship. 

She had fit into their family easier than any of them could have expected. She was good with the children, taking them all under her wing as if they were her own, though her relationship with both Rhaenyra and Daemons older children was a bit strained in the beginning. Children were a bit of a sore topic for her; She rarely spoke of her own late children, but both Daemon and Rhaenyra could easily tell how broken she was over their deaths. She and Rhaenyra had bonded even more after Rhaenyra had lost her own daughter in labour, all three parties agreeing that Rhaenyra would not have any more children. 

That did not change the fact that both Daemon and Rhaenyra could tell that Y/n longed to be a mother once more. She honoured her own boys on their name days, and on the anniversaries of their deaths, but none of Rhaenyra’s children saw her as a mother, nor did she expect them to. They both noticed the way she had this longing stare in her eyes each time that one of the younger children called for their mother, or as Jacaerys and Lucerys slowly grew into young men, as her own children would not be much younger than they are now had they survived their sickness. It was just after the one year anniversary of Daemon and Y/n’s wedding that Rhaenyra proposed to him that they offer Y/n the chance to have another child, as many as she was willing to carry, but of course it would ultimately be her decision; Neither of them were very fussed either way, they both already had a small militia of children of their own, but they would be happy to welcome more into the world, especially if it meant that she would be tied to the Targaryen bloodline through more than marriage. 

They waited a while longer to bring this to her, but Rhaenyra had been subtly encouraging her to spend more time with Daemon, and even suggested that they might begin sharing a bed with one another from time to time, whether it be on their own or with Rhaenyra present. She assured her that he was in fact attracted to her, pointing out how she is the one that he stares so longingly at when he watches them together. It was not that Y/n had been opposed to this, she was equally as attracted to Daemon as he was to her, but she had not been with a man since her late husband, and she had not expected to ever take another man to bed again now that she and Rhaenyra were officially together. 

The conversation was finally brought to her a month after she and Daemon spent their first night together. They had been intimate, but she had still not allowed him to be inside of her, instead opting to pleasure him with her mouth, hands, and breasts. Rhaenyra whispered in her ear during supper one evening, suggesting that they invite their husband to join them that night, which she excitedly agreed to, completely unaware of what sort of proposition they would offer her, and she was especially surprised at how quickly she consented to their idea.

Rhaenyra had knelt behind her that night, both straddling their husband’s hips as the blonde gripped her wife’s waist to aid her movements, guiding her with every bounce of her long cock and whispering praises into her ear between kisses on her neck. Daemon had been uncharacteristically happy to sit back against the headboard and watch as his wives moved in unison over him, grunting as the tight squeeze of her velvet walls around him. He could hardly pull himself away from her lips, eagerly swallowing every one of her sweet moans as he emptied himself inside of her, sighing as she slumped back against Rhaenyra as she reached her own peak.

They had continued this for months until the maester finally confirmed that Y/n was with child, her skin glowing in delight at the thought of having a child to raise with her husband and wife. By the fifth month of her pregnancy, her stomach had swelled enough to show through her heavy gowns, and her hormones had taken full effect of her everyday life. 

If it weren’t bad enough that she was constantly fatigued, or that her feet and back ached, or that her breasts were swollen and tender to the mere brush of her gown against her sensitive nipples, she had also grown to be absolutely insatiable. She found that her thighs were constantly slick with her arousal, and that she was able to bring herself to orgasm in the simplest ways, even by just sitting on certain pieces of furniture. Daemon and Rhaenyra could no longer enjoy bedding her on the same night quite as regularly as before, all because of how regularly she was mewling for them; Daemon had even jokingly suggested that they encourage her maids to pleasure her throughout the day so that they could keep up with her, only to be met with Rhaenyra’s palm slamming into the back of his head. It even came to the point where Rhaenyra felt the need to consult the maester about how regularly all three of them were being intimate together, who advised that, as her pregnancy developed, physical intimacy may result in causing her pain.

Instead, Rhaenyra encouraged her to participate in some “self-care” routines, as she had called them, telling her that pregnancy could cause her to think poorly of herself in many ways, so she thought it best that she take long, hot baths under the candlelight, drink honeyed wine and have her maids soak her in scented oils before taking the initiative to pleasure herself as much as she desired. Daemon had not been so keen on this idea, considering that he was constantly finding her with her hands between her thighs and not allowing him to cut in until she had finished, meaning that she was incredibly sensitive and could not take quite as much as she used to be able to before she began this routine. Even Rhaenyra was beginning to regret it, easily noticing the way that her maids now stared at her longingly, likely having seen and heard her in the throes of self-pleasure more times than they had with her husband and wife involved. 

When Rhaenyra brought up her annoyances with Daemon, he had been quick to point fingers, claiming that it was entirely her fault that Y/n had not been seeking them out as much. They both came to the conclusion that they needed to get her out of this habit as quickly as she had gotten into it. 

“My love,” Rhaenyra smiled sweetly as she entered her chambers, finding her settled in the bathtub with rose petals floating in the water around her. The water rippled around her rounded belly and breasts as they poked out into the warm air. Rhaenyra thought that she had never looked so beautiful in her life, with the exception of their wedding day. “How do you feel? The maester told me you had a bout of sickness after supper.”

The woman opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at her wife as she knelt at her side, one hand dipping in to feel the temperature of the water, “‘M fine, Nyra. I do not think that mutton agrees with our babe.”

The Targaryen woman laughed, “I’m sorry, my love, I know how you enjoy mutton so. I will instruct the cooks to avoid it until the babe arrives then.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n stroked a hand over her belly, “I would give anything to keep her happy.”

“Her?” Rhaenyra asked, settling her hand on the bump as well, “You expect a girl?”

“I do,” Y/n beamed, “I will be happy either way, but I have a feeling. I know how you long for a daughter, as well.”

Rhaenyra flushed, “You are too kind to me my love. I will be happy with our child regardless of gender, so long as they are a part of the one I love the most.”

Y/n giggled, “Do not let our husband hear you speaking like that.”

“He knows his place,” Rhaenyra chuckled, fingers wandering up to brush against the tender flesh of her breast, smirking to herself at the moan that fell from her wife’s lips at the smallest touch.

Rhaenyra turned her head, finding her maids looking bashful in the corner of the room. They had been witness to Y/n’s pleasure before, but never at the hand of one of her spouses. 

“Out,” She commanded, “I will finish my wife’s bath on my own.”

They all hesitated for a moment before nodding, curtsying to both women before rushing out. 

“Nyra,” Y/n scolded, “I was about to begin my “self-care”.”

“I can care for you, my heart.” The silver-haired woman cooed as she lowered her hand below the surface of the water, taking little care for the sleeve of her gown as her fingertips found the slick button between her thighs.

“It was your idea, Rhaenyra.” Her voice sounded firmer than before, and her once sleepy eyes had grown hard and accusing. 

“A stupid one, I must admit,” She sighed, rubbing small circles into her clit, “I miss how insatiable you once were, how you begged for me to touch you, how you begged for our husband’s cock.”

A flash of sadness appeared on her face as sprung to her waterline, “You were tired of me, you do not want me.”

Rhaenyra stopped her movements, “What?” 

A soft sob left her lips, “You asked me to take care of myself. I thought it might have been because you and Daemon were busy, but then I came to your rooms one night and–”

She didn’t need to finish for Rhaenyra to understand. She and Daemon had found it difficult to keep up with their wife’s libido, but once she had begun taking care of herself, they still had their own desires and spent many nights together. Rhaenyra felt stupid for not seeing how this would feel to their wife, let alone now that her emotions were heightened. She had not considered herself unattractive until Rhaenyra asked if she mentioned that self pleasure was beneficial for helping her bodily insecurities, only to find that she and Daemon were continuing to fuck without her on the regular. 

Y/n pushed her hand away, sitting up and pulling her knees as close to her chest as her stomach would allow, “Leave me.”

“My love–”

“Please,” Her voice cracked, “Send my handmaidens in, I want to go to bed.”

“Y/n, please let me–”

“Go!” She shrieked, tears now falling down her cheeks readily as she pushed herself out of the water abruptly, “Get out!” 

The door burst open, her handmaidens appearing in the room with worried expressions at the sound of their lady’s screaming. They rushed forward, helping her step out of the tub and wrapping her in her favourite silk robe. 

Rhaenyra watched as she stumbled away, ignoring the water dripping from her as she crawled onto the bed, the most heart-wrenching sobs leaving her lips. The Crown Princess did not want to leave, longing to go after her and make her understand, but the guilt that began to force itself up her throat was too much to bear. Without another word, she pushed through the doorway and into the corridor, rushing to find Daemon. 

Y/n did not leave her chambers for three days. She had breakfast, tea, and dinner in her rooms with no company except for her handmaidens. She refused to allow Rhaenyra or Daemon in to see her any time that they had come to visit, even when they each tried to assert their rank over her handmaidens. She was now almost seven months into her pregnancy, and she was continuously wondering to herself how she had let herself be talked into another child. She wept day and night, countless apologies leaving her lips to her late children, begging for their forgiveness and cursing Rhaenyra and Daemon for bringing her walls down so much that she had allowed herself to be in the position to potentially lose yet another child. 

On the fourth day, Rhaenrya had decided that enough was enough, and used the secret passageway into her wife’s room. When she found her, she felt her heart clench in her throat, finding her still in nothing but the silk robe that she’d left her in four days earlier, curled in a ball on her favourite sofa and staring blankly out the window. How had she allowed herself to hurt the one person she loved above all else again after vowing to protect her heart with her entire being? 

“My love,” Rhaenyra called out, closing the hidden door behind her. She frowned when she was met with complete silence, “My love, can you hear me?”

“What is it, Your Grace?” 

Rhaenyra cringed, having only heard Y/n speak to her so formally when she was truly angry with her. “The maester told me you have not slept or eaten in two days. It is not good for the child.”

Y/n scoffed, “The babe.”

“It is not good for you, either, my love.” 

Rhaenyra knelt in front of her, hands cupping her cheeks and grimacing at how cold she felt. Rhaenyra had gone to Daemon that night, her pale cheeks flushed red and wet from her tears as she paced for hours, wondering how they would be able to make things right with her–how had she let this happen? How could she make her feel unloved by the two people who loved her more than anything?

“Please look at me,” She whispered, head ducking to meet her hollow gaze. “I’m not sure how I can make you feel how deeply angry I am with myself. I am so, so sorry, my love.”

Y/n sniffled, but did not respond.

“May I explain myself?” Rhaenyra waited for her weak nod before she continued, “I did not mean to make you feel unwanted, by any means. You are sweet, and good, and beautiful, and I could never imagine a world where I would not want you. Daemon and I–we cannot excuse ourselves, but we can explain. We were concerned for you, for how often we were bedding you. The maester told us that we could hurt you, which is why I suggested what I did. I did not mean to imply that we did not want you. In fact, we wanted you so deeply that we turned to each other for the first time in so long because we thought you were more comfortable with taking care of yourself.”

Y/n shook her head, “I only did it because that’s what I thought you wanted.”

“I could never not want you, my beautiful wife.” Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to her clammy cheek.

“I must admit,” Y/n laughed bitterly, “I began to believe after some time that I had become a concubine for you both.”

“I do not think it is custom to love one’s concubine, my sweet.” Rhaenyra chuckled, then turned sombre when she took note of her expression, “My love, else bothers you?”

“I do not want to have another child,” Y/n whispered, “I feel almost as if I am betraying my boys. I will love this child with all of my heart, and nothing makes me more happy than to be tied to you both through blood, but I will not have another.”

Rhaenyra sighed, “I am sorry if you have felt pressured by us.”

“I haven’t,” She shook her head, “But I have done some thinking over the past two days. I have been happy here, and I do want this child, but I’m not sure that I can handle another. This child is a sibling, but to have two, it feels like I am replacing them, and to me they are completely irreplaceable.”

Rhaenyra kissed her head, “You will not have to. I will speak to Daemon, and the maester. We will make sure that this is your last pregnancy.”

“You don’t think that Daemon will be upset with me? He won’t want any more children?”

“If he is, then perhaps we would need to rethink how many people we want in this marriage, don’t you think?”

This made Y/n giggle, and it was like music to Rhaenyra’s ears. She finally leaned into her, wrapping her arms around Rhaenyra’s middle and nuzzling into her neck. Rhaenyra gladly held her, running her fingers through her hair affectionately as she began to notice her breathing grow heavier.

“You must be tired, my sweet,” Rhaenyra turned her head to look at her, “Why don’t you have a bath while I go find you some supper, then you can rest.”

“Will you stay with me while I sleep?” She murmured.

Rhaenyra kissed her lips softly, “Of course I will.”

When Y/n woke up, Rhaenyra was still at her side, her long fingers stroking Y/n’s swollen belly over her thin nightgown. 

“Good morning, my love,” She greeted with a small smile. 

“Evening, you mean,” Y/n had not even noticed that Daemon had occupied the space behind her in the bed until he spoke up, his own hand reaching around to lay on top of Rhaenyra’s on her belly. 

Y/n leaned back into him, sighing at the warmth being emitted from his firm chest, “How long was I sleeping?”

“Almost a day,” He kissed her temple to soothe her as she cried out in surprise, “But you needed it.”

“It’s true,” Rhaenyra affirmed, “You were awake for two days straight. I’ll call your ladies, you must be starving.”

“I am,” Y/n trailed a finger up her arm, “But not for food.”

Rhaenyra shook her head as Daemon chuckled at their wife, “My love, you are very weak right now–”

“Neither of you have touched me in almost two months,” She whined, “Please.”

The two Targaryens shared a glance over her shoulder, Daemon shrugging in response to Rhaenyra’s concerned look.

“Alright,” She finally conceded, “But you must lie there, let us take care of you.”

The woman eagerly nodded, excited whimpers falling from her lips from the slightest drag of Daemon’s lips against her jugular, his fingers pulling the strap of her nightgown down over her shoulder to expose one of her tender breasts. Rhaenyra was quick to pull her into a kiss, tongue forcing itself past her wife’s lips and swallowing every sound she made, her nimble fingers twisting her perky nipple gently. 

Everything moved in a blur for Y/n over the next few moments, somehow finding herself now on her back, knees bent as her nightgown was rucked up to settle over her swollen belly, Rhaenyra wasting little time in dragging her tongue torturously through her folds, which had already been dripping with her sweet nectar from the moment that she had woken up. Her cheeks felt warm, embarrassed at how sensitive and wet she’d been before either of them even touched her and at how quickly she was able to feel herself at her peak. 

At her side, Daemon was needy for her attention. He tucked two fingers under her chin, quickly turning her head to capture her lips in a warm and messy kiss. Her own eager fingers quickly found the laces of his breeches, tugging at them until they were just loose enough to slide her hand inside and take hold of his rapidly hardening member, their sighs of pleasure being lost in one another’s mouths as she slowly pumped him until he was completely hard, whining in protest as he pushed her touch away. 

“Patience, sweet one,” He tsked at her, instead turning his attention to suckling at her breasts, tugging her other strap down to release both of her heaving tits to his mercy. 

The wave crashed over her before she could comprehend it, eyes rolling back as neither of them made any move to slow or stop their ministrations as they each licked and sucked at her most sensitive parts until she was trembling with aftershocks. 

“Do you think she is ready for me?” Daemon peered down at Rhaenyra, who had continued to lick at her clit softly.

She grinned up at him, “More than she’s ever been.”

He chuckled, reaching his hand down to feel her wetness for himself with a wicked glint in his eyes, “Perhaps we should deprive our needy little wife more often if it means she will always be this responsive.”

Rhaenyra frowned, “You are bold to assume that either of us will be able to resist for so long ever again, husband. I’m certain that I can’t.”

“Perhaps I merely need to be reminded, I may not have my wits about me.”

Within seconds, his clothes had been completely removed and was was dragging her by the ankles until her bum was hanging off the edge of the mattress and he was pressed tightly between her legs. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra had helped her slide her shift off over her head, leaving her completely bare to her husband and wife.

Her back arched off of the bed as Daemon notched the head of his member against her entrance, easily slipping inside with a drawn out moan, eyes closed as he relished in the feeling of her silky walls throbbing around him. 

“See how he desires you?” Rhaenyra whispered to her, “You make him weak, he belongs to you. We belong to you.”

She nodded, watching in awe as Rhaenyra’s slender neck was engulfed by their husband’s fingers, his meaty fist forcing her to meet his hard kiss as his spare hand slid beneath Y/n’s hip and flipped her onto her side, barely missing a beat as he threw her top leg over his shoulder and sped up his thrusts. 

Rhaenyra grinned into the kiss, reaching up to slide her middle and index fingers into her wife’s mouth, slowly thrusting them in and out until they were dripping with her saliva. Carefully, she moved them down and began circling them around her untouched hole, feeling the snug ring of muscles tighten and release under her touch. The sloppy juices of her release had dripped down and provided an extra lubricant as one of her long fingers dipped inside, stilling for a few moments to allow her to adjust to the intrusion before she pressed the second in as well. Her movements were slow, not wanting to force the tightness of her ass and further than she already was, especially with the force of Daemon’s thrusts into sweet cunt. 

Mere moments passed before her second release began bursting out of her core and splashing against Daemon’s stomach, the warmth of her juices bringing him to his own climax. She allowed him to keep forcing himself into her abused hole before she was pressing her foot flat into his shoulder to push him away. 

“Look at her,” Rhaenyra murmured to him, smirking down at her wife’s trembling body, “Look at how needy she is for us. We belong to her, but she is ours alone.”

Daemons slowly allowed his cock to slide out of her, falling down to poke at her asshole as Rhaenyra pulled her fingers out. The future queen slid from the mattress, disappearing out of Y/n’s sight as Daemon huddled overtop of her, pressing warm kisses across her neck and chest. He pulled back as Rhaenyra reappeared next to her, wiping her hands clean with a wet cloth before she made quick work of wiping the pregnant woman’s sensitive cunt clean as Daemon readjusted his breeches as she moved across the room to sit by the burning fireplace. 

Rhaenyra helped her wife move back up to lay against her pillows, tucking her in beneath the soft sheets. She crawled in next to her, pressing her lips to her forehead and chuckling when Rhaenyra felt her tugging at her skirts.

“I am alright, my heart,” She pushed her hands away, “You should rest. We will call for your supper.”

Y/n nodded, a touch disappointed that she hadn’t been able to taste her wife’s delicious cunt, but her sadness faded as she felt her eyes fluttering shut, lulling her into a deep sleep as she huddled closer to Rhaenyra’s chest.

[queers-gambit]

Blue Moon Wreckage

prompt: your husband can often lose his temper and resort to the man he was before you. you grow tired of lashing your tongue, and learn your husband responds better to silence.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 4.3k+

note: another stand alone, no sequel

warnings: cursing, talk of child abandonment, vulgar dialogue, old-fashioned views on marriage (maybe idk), not edited. small angst, small comfort. author probably missed some warnings.

The entire city cleaned up in preparation for Princess Rhaenyra's nuptials to the heir of Driftmark, Lord Laenor Velaryon. It was refreshing to see citizens rejoicing in a common theme and going around to hang different decorations; chandeliers of strung florals, wreaths woven and hung, lanterns set all around to create an ambiance in the street.

Romance was in the air.

It put people in jolly spirits, brought them elation, and gave the ability to decompress from the woes of life. Wine tasted sweeter, the food saltier, and many merchants came into town for the week-long celebration of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the hopes of selling enough wares to pay for three of their month's expenses. Every room at the inn was filled, brothels hosting the leftover stragglers; money was simply made in an abundance after taking advantage of the citizens come to celebrate.

And yet, deep within the halls of the Red Keep, not all were so at peace with the state of things.

Maids and servants all skidded around the corridor that housed your bedchambers shared with your husband. The walls almost vibrated with the sheer force of the yelling that took place, and while the sun shone on the rest of the Kingdom, there was a dark shadow over the Red Keep.

Rarely, and it was the truth, rarely did you and Daemon ever fight. He was your best friend, he was the love of your life, you've known him for years, and had long since developed an effective way to communicate. Daemon wasn't easy to deal with, in fact, even to those who knew how to handle him, he sometimes pushed past boundaries and threw curveballs into the mix. You were not immune to his sharp tongue and wicked-fast wit, but in reality, Daemon never actively sought conflict with you, so fighting was incredibly rare - though, not totally unheard of.

Like a blue moon - not totally unheard of, but still considered rare. And in pale moonlight, the ship you and Daemon found yourselves sailing on seemed to crash into a set of cliffside jagged rocks, all but imploding the balance you had found yourselves in.

A shipwreck during a blue moon.

Before you, Daemon was violent and volatile. He was irresponsible, impulsive, stubborn, hotheaded, and blood thirty. Many Ladies all vied for the Prince's attention, but as he grew older, he became more and more reckless and more Ladies started keeping their distance. Expect you. You heard rumor his grandmother, the Queen Alysanne, meant to marry him off to Rhea Royce but your father was almost too smart for his own good. He devised a tantalizing offer that the Crown would've been foolish to refuse - thus binding you and Daemon to fate.

Before you, Daemon wasn't a man. He was just a second son trapped in a shell of his body, full of anger with nowhere to expel himself. A boy with a temper. A lad with attitude. He was knighted at 16, an impressive feat, and not a full moon cycle later, you and Daemon wed. He wasn't easy to love, but that was because he was so defensive in his life living in his older brother's shadow.

Before you, Daemon never believed in love or acceptance. Yet everyday he spent with you, he was reminded of his value and worth as a person - not just a Prince, or a Targaryen. You worked every day for his trust and confidence, and once you had it, it was an unshakeable foundation. Daemon was everything to you, and before him, you were shy and awkward and overwhelmed in the glaring eyes of court. Now, you were confident, humble, and weeping with power.

You kept Daemon balanced in his head and heart.

Before you, he was like a wild dog. Now, he was domesticated for you and you alone. He realized how much his recklessness hurt you and never wanted to be the cause of your pain, so, Daemon cleaned himself up. Most days, he was perfectly content in life, and others, he was still as stubborn as ever, but every so often, Daemon loses sight of himself and resorts back to who he was before you.

Fighting with Daemon was always difficult. He wasn't accustomed to losing, so, when you two went toe-to-toe, he was out for blood. He loses himself in his anger, fueled only by the need to cause the most harm with his sharpest words. Daemon jumped to conclusions faster than a grasshopper hops from blades of grass because he was vastly insecure, and it took most of your will to restrain your anger enough to soothe him of his worries.

Daemon hated fighting with you, and you hated fighting with him. There was never a true victor because you both hated it so much. Perhaps that was why your once-in-a-blue-moon fights turned so gruesome and emotional; you both hated fighting that it made you fight even harder.

How you came to this, you didn't remember. One moment, you were enjoying a morning feast with your husband, and the next, you were locked in your chambers, lashing at each other's throats with hateful words.

"I do not understand!" You sobbed. "You agreed to this - "

"No! No, I did not! You did not consult me on this matter, you just accepted responsibility. For the both of us!"

"He is my little brother, Daemon!"

"He is not our responsibility!"

"He is now!"

"Because you took action without a word to me!"

"I did not need to consult you; he is my blood."

"But not mine."

You scoffed, "For fuck's sake, Daemon, do you hear yourself? You are whinging over a child - you're bloody jealous of a child! Where is the man I married?"

"I have done all I am expected and required as a husband, it is you who refuses my seed. Who refuses to grow our family!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Now you want a baby!? Married ten years, we are, and NOW you want to whinge about babies!? I am busy in case you've not bothered to look around every once in a while," you snapped, "and I understand having a baby is not ideal right now!"

"So, you will not take my seed because you are busy raising another man's?"

"He was my father - oh, Gods be good, why're we fighting over this?"

"You need to understand, he is not mine," Daemon seethed. "He will never be mine and I do not wish to treat him as such. The life and luxury we live in are not meant for a child that is neither of ours."

"What would you have me do!?"

"Send him to your brother."

"Oh, spare me this notion, Daemon! I will not hear of it! No! We are not discussing this again and again!"

"You mean to disobey me then, wife?" He snapped, making your mouth snap shut. "Huh? Think you're immune to the duties you must uphold as a woman? Think that allows you free rein? You are luckier than most that I allow you to have a fucking opinion; do not abuse my generosity. You want the child to stay, fine, I hear you, but I say he goes. Guess who's want will triumph?"

You blinked several times, unable to find words.

"Nothing to say?" He taunted. "That is a first, wife, you surprise me. In your moment of silence, do well to listen to me now: the child goes, or I do. You either get rid of the child or I will remove myself from this sham of a marriage."

"I do not recognize you, you are not my husband," you finally sighed. "Do me a favor and figure you may speak to me again once you're ready to apologize. If not, I assume by week's end, we will be celebrating both Rhaenyra's wedding and our annulment."

"Too much time has passed for such - "

"I know a Septon that will forge documents. Now," you eyed him up and down, "once more, do not think to speak to me unless to grovel for my forgiveness."

"You will die before that happens."

You nodded slowly, then shrugged and dodged around him to exit the room. You could not bear to be around him any longer, storming away to where your small brother was being looked after by a Septa. You did not speak to Daemon the rest of the day, feeling yourself brimming with anger as you replayed his words.

How dare he find insult in your desire to do "the right thing" by caring for your brother after your parents met their untimely demise? How dare he cite "wifely duties" to you? Just how dare he!

The day was supposed to be merry. It was supposed to be lighthearted and fun and romantic and exciting and gossip worthy. Yet now, you were feeling annoyed, frustrated, weighed down, and plain stupid. You felt alone. You felt tired and worn thin. Your little brother, Jamie, always put a smile on your face, but now, you were simply ready to cry just by looking at him. This planted the seed of resentment towards Daemon, and through the day, only festered.

"My Lady?" You glanced in the mirror to see your hand maiden, who was doing your hair, humming in question. "Alyria has arrived, she will watch young Lord Jamie for the evening."

"Good, thank you," you sighed. "Has Daemon come around?"

"No, my Lady."

"Hmm."

Not 30 minutes later, you were walking towards the decorated throne room with your hair braided back, make-up laid perfectly, and your dress a dark grey, black, and Targaryen red.

However, before you could walk in, someone called your name. You paused, letting Daemon approach you, his eyes raking you in as he realized you dressed to match him. "You look beautiful," he complimented, but you just stared; then sighed through your nose and straightened up. "What? You're not speaking to me?"

"I told you the terms in which you should find it acceptable to speak to me again."

Daemon scoffed, "You're still on that?" You did not answer, just stared forward. "Fine, be that way. Come," he offered his arm, but you brushed past him to finally enter the throne room. Your names were announced, albeit begrudgingly because most in the castle harbored ill-will towards Daemon. They just felt bad for you, not knowing of the man you had grown to know and love unconditionally.

You took long strides to shorten your journey, but behind you, your husband just sauntered in as if the center of attention. However, no matter where he was, Daemon was always the main character, and he was quite the peacock in flaunting himself. You bowed to the King and his daughter, heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra. You took your seat beside the Hand of the King, Ser Strong, as Daemon climbed the stone stairs with a smug expression before taking the seat beside you at the very end.

Needless to say, Daemon was not accustomed to being ignored. You did not look at him, did not speak to him, ignored his direct questions, even went as far as to slapping his hand away when he reached for your thigh. When your hand rested on the table and he laid his over yours, you pulled it back.

It drove Daemon absolutely up the wall.

"And how fairs your brother, my Lady?" Ser Strong asked gently. "How does he like life in the Capital?"

"He adores it," you hummed with a nod. "He is learning so much and loves watching the boats in the harbor."

"How old is he now?"

"Just shy of 4, my Lord."

"Well, what would the little Prince like for his nameday?"

"Oh, uh, no, he's not a Prince," you spoke gently.

"No? Well, I suppose until Viserys recognizes him."

"Well, Daemon's made it clear that if I do not give custody of my brother up, this marriage is null and void, so," you clicked your tongue cheekily, sipping your wine, "no use in titles."

You knew others heard you and smirked to yourself. Another gulp of wine and you were standing, excusing yourself, and moving onto the dance floor. Rhaenyra giggled when you gave her a playful twirl before taking your place with a partner, falling into rhythm with those around you. The entire time, you felt Daemon's eyes burning into you.

You didn't care. You carried on as if there wasn't a ring on your wedding finger weighing like a full fish net, like you weren't burdened by your marriage.

You danced with a Tully, Stark, Frey, and Lannister boy, all who looked at you like a delectable treat but were being effectively ignored, just like your handsome, white-haired husband. It was a lively time, twisting and turning and leaping and being lifted in ture with the instruments playing. Rhaenyra caught your eye a few times, grinning and giggling as she, too, let herself destress in the glee of the festivities. However, when the Frey lad spun you around, you had thought of the devil so much, there he bloody was.

Your husband smirked down at you, "You look startled, little bird."

You scoffed and moved to go around him, but Daemon's hand was darting out to grab your upper arm. He pulled you further into the crowd to use them as a layer of protection, turning sharply to leer over you. He snapped in High Valyrian, "What're you playing at? Hmm? You mean to embarrass my entire family by being so cold and shrewish?"

You scoffed, glaring at him for a moment before he reached forward to grab your neck and cheek in a possessive hold. "I dare you to raise a sharp word at me," he sneered quietly, keeping you in place. "You have ignored me all fucking day, these games are at an end. I have always known your voice to be a sweet remedy, do not deprive me of it longer."

"Then apologize," You snapped.

"For what? Speaking the truth? That you refuse to sire my children because you are too occupied with your wee brother? For taking in a child without so much as asking me? Tell me, what am I apologizing for?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and swatting his hand from you. However, just as you meant to walk away from him, someone gasped and yelped from the people around you. Daemon brought you into his chest as a sudden crowd thickened, two bodies hitting the floor in a gruesome fight. This encouraged others to get rowdy, and before you could comprehend his actions, Daemon was stooping low to hoist you over his shoulder and stride away.

When out of the fray, Daemon slowed himself enough to set you down at the base of the stairs leading to the Royal banquet table, both his hands going to your cheeks. He panted lightly, looking you over, "All right? You hurt? They touch you?"

"No, I'm okay," you sighed gently, reaching up to hold his wrists in a brief show of affection. However, the crowd only grew in size and aggression; the Royals all taking refuge on the elevated landing to take a headcount. Not a moment later, Ser Harwin Strong, the Hand's eldest son, was emerging from the crowd with Rhaenyra hoisted up his shoulder.

But your attention was drawn elsewhere. You parted Daemon's side to get under Viserys' arm, lifting him up slightly as he coughed into a handkerchief. You frowned when you saw the blood, his eyes meeting your wide ones. You asked the only question you could think of, "Does Daemon know?"

"No," he matched your tone in a whisper.

You nodded and assisted him into the closest chair. After the death of Ser Laenor Velayron's paramour (Ser Joffrey, was it?) the hall was cleared of everyone to only leave the immediate family. In hopes of avoiding future turmoil, it was decided that the Realm's Delight, Rhaenyra, was to wed the Sea Snake's son, Laenor, now instead of at week's end. Viserys asked his brother to stay but you were quick to bow out, promising it was a family affair and you should get ready for bed anyways.

Daemon looked close to protesting your departure but was unable to utter a single word, only watching you scamper out of the throne room as the High Septon finally arrived.

Rhaenyra and Laenor married in front of his mother and father, Rhaenys and Corlys, and his sister, Laena. King Viserys was there with his brother Daemon and wife Alicent, leaving only the Hand present to pose as "unbiased witness".

Further into the castle, you collected your brother, Jamie, and quickly got him ready for bed. Your heart felt heavy with guilt as you looked at him, understanding on a deeper level that if it came down to it, you'd do anything to keep Daemon in your life... And if he said your brother had to go or he did, well, you feared to find out if he was serious.

Jamie fell asleep on the long bench at the base of your bed with a fire crackling in front of his face. He had fallen asleep listening to you read, your emotions catching up to you to let you finally sob quietly while preparing for bed. You hated the idea of losing either Daemon or Jamie, and the fact that you had to choose? It felt impossible. So, once ready for bed, you tied on your dressing robe and bent at the waist to kiss Jamie's forehead. You then found yourself standing at the floor-to-ceiling window, wine in hand, staring out into nothing as you were wrecked emotionally from considering Daemon's ultimatum.

You were overwhelmed.

The door opened behind you and your eyes screwed shut. You took an even breath in, heard the door shut quietly, and then turned to spy your husband already staring at you. His face was neutral, passive, and you knew he was sizing you up just as you were him; both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Your resolve crumbled.

As if your minds were connected by a string, you surged forward as Daemon took a few steps toward you, meeting in the middle, and wrapping your arms around one another. Daemon held your waist tightly as yours tied around his neck in a vice grip, breathing in his scent that seemed to mingle permanently with the smell of dragon. He felt gentle trembling from contained sobs, soothing you with hushed cooing; hand petting the back of your head.

When you pulled back, it was only just enough to find his lips; drenching yourself in sheer relief at the familiar taste and feel of your husband. Just before you could whimper you were sorry, truly being unsure what you were actually apologizing for, when he beat you to it.

The space between your lips was filled with Daemon's rushed words, both his hands cradling your cheeks as he spoke, "I'm so sorry, my love. I am. I am truly so sorry. I hate fighting, I hate us fighting, it just feels so fucking wrong, I'm so sorry."

"No, it is I who am sorry, husband."

"Nothing to apologize for," he rushed, forehead glued to yours as he moved you backwards to the bed. "You do not apologize to me; you have done no wrong. It's me, I am the one who should grovel. I do deserve your kindness; I am so sorry for what I've said." He took a long breath, just holding you carefully, "I was out of line."

"No, you were right. I did not consult you; I should have. It is not just you or I in this, but the two of us together. I shouldn't have acted without so much as a word."

"It is okay," he assured softly, "it is more than all right by me now. I just," he sighed, "I needed to think, process a little. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, I should've listened to you and been a supportive husband, but instead, I just fought with you." He frowned, petting down your face with a dainty finger. "We fight because we care, but Gods do I hate it."

"I do, too," you whispered. "Can we just," you sighed, "go to bed or something? I'm exhausted."

He nodded, glancing at the foot of the bed before looking back at you, "One more thing."

"Hmm?"

"We will talk to Viserys in the morning about recognizing Jamie."

You frowned, "Well, hang on, I think I understand your point, too, Daemon. Listen, yes, I want us charged with Jamie's care, but I do not wish to replace his parents."

"He should still have a title, a place at court. Access to tutors and such."

You smiled fondly, whispering, "That is the man I married."

Daemon prepared for bed as you check Jamie, finding him fast asleep still. Your husband came to bed after blowing out all candles, leaving the fire simmering and you both under a single linen sheet. He laid on his back with you flush against his side, both hands holding your form and tracing idle patterns.

Every so often, he'd squeeze you tightly and kiss your forehead, but otherwise, you both just laid in peace. However, Daemon broke the silence, "I did not mean to cause you harm. I just felt panicked, I think, after the war."

You nodded with understanding, "Our time is on the horizon, Daemon, I promise, I just needed to find balance with Jamie. I've never been a mother before, 's very odd."

"Perhaps we can learn together, I've never been a father," Daemon offered softly. "I fear I have not been entirely welcoming."

"You've time to remedy it," you urged softly. "But you are not obligated."

"He will be our shared responsibility."

You smiled against his chest. "So, tell me of the wedding."

"Nothing special," he sighed. "Viserys fell ill. And I do mean literally fell."

"What? Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's being seen to... But I was thinking..."

"Of?"

"Us. Our family."

"Hm, and what of them, my love?"

Daemon sighed, reaching for your cheek in order to find your lips in the dark. "We will leave," he whispered, licking another kiss to your lips. "We'll go across the Narrow Sea together, raise a family away from the politics and chaos."

"You would miss your family."

"I would rue staying in this city. Away from here, we'd have liberties and freedoms Kings Landing does not offer us, nor our kids."

"I will think on it."

When morning broke through the window of consciousness, Daemon realized you were still sound and dead asleep, but there was something or someone poking his arm in an annoying repetition. When he blinked awake and looked to the culprit, he smiled slightly at Jamie. "What's wrong, little lad?" He asked quietly, voice heavy and hazy with sleep, seeing tears fill the kid's eyes.

"I-I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?"

"I wet the bed," he frowned, looking at the lounge he slept on all night. "I didn't mean to. It was a scary dream."

"It's okay," he whispered, glancing at you before standing from bed. "C'mon, it's all right, we can clean it."

He nodded and let Daemon sit him at the bottom of the mattress, some two full feet from touching you. Jamie watched Daemon work, gathering any linens to set aside to be washed before plucking the child into his arms. He took his to the washroom and got him cleaned up before redressing him for the day, Daemon quickly doing the same, and then the two left for the day.

You slept while Daemon took Jaime to breakfast. You slept while the two ate and made merry; getting to know each other. You slept while Daemon answered little Jamie's questions. You slept while Daemon offered to introduce him to Caraxes, his dragon.

By the time you were awake, dressed, and approaching the mess hall, Daemon and Jamie were leaving to head for the Dragon Pit. When they saw you, Jamie grinned and squealed, "Sissy!"

You grinned when he rushed for your legs, greeting him with enthusiasm. You hoisted him onto your hip as Daemon approached you, pausing to lean in and kiss you. "Where are you two lads off to?"

"Dragons!"

You chuckled, "Yeah? Uncle's taking you to see the dragons? You're very lucky, not many people get to see them up close."

"Would you care to join us?" Daemon offered.

"No, no, that's quite all right. Thank you, my love, but perhaps this is best kept to a boy’s trip," you quipped, pecking Daemon's lips. "Bring him back in one piece, please."

"Of course," Daemon agreed, taking Jamie's hand when you set him on the ground. He stole one last kiss before leading Jamie away; where you watched them walk away and felt something stirring in your gut; suddenly come alive with tingling electricity. Instead of venturing into the mess hall, you instead continued your way to where you could meet the Grand Maester for a series of tests.

Learning you were pregnant was surreal, but incredibly elating. You were humored by the fact that, just hours ago, you and Daemon feuded for this very reason. However, after simply seeing your husband and little brother get along so effortlessly, you had no doubt in your mind you could handle this. Worrying about having Jamie and a newborn so close together was valid, of course - but it wasn't something you actually needed to worry about now.

Plenty of families had children with shorter age ranges, but none of that matters now - not when you were so explicably happy. All that was left to do now was tell Daemon and Jamie.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (8/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, fingering, mutual masturbation, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence, some kind of sexual harassment ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"You are pathetic, like all your kin. Thank the gods you don't make me warm your bed, but your child asks about you and I don't know what to answer. That her father would rather spend time with whores in King's Landing than with his own daughter?" She heard her mother's hiss as if from afar, seeing darkness all around her, recognising in the vague outline of objects that she was standing in the corridor, by the door of her chamber.

How old could she have been then?

Had it really happened, or was it just a dream?

For some reason, her head hurt a lot.

"The Red Keep is no place for a little girl. Should I take her there to watch the lords around my brother fucking kill each other for power, let them marry her off to the first better rich old fool?"

"Would you rather she live without a father? Will you flee from that duty too?"

A long, uncomfortable silence ensued, which after a while was broken by the bitter, disappointed voice of her father.

"She resembles you too much."

She opened her eyes, feeling that the light was blinding her. She muttered, twisting on the soft bed, hearing someone's conversation fall silent a moment later.

"My Lady?"

She glanced sideways at the figure of the Maester leaning over her, his hand touching her head.

"Thank the gods, the fever has subsided. How do you feel?"

She swallowed hard, trying to remember what had happened and where she was, confused and frightened, feeling like her skull was about to explode from the pain.

And then she remembered.

His full lips pressed against hers, his hand between her thighs.

And a dim memory of what followed, the blow and her fall, his voice in the darkness, his hot breath on her face, the outline of his jaw in the candlelight, his sticky, hot kiss.

Sleep, little sister.

Your brother will stay by your side.

She sighed, tired and resigned, recognising that this was surely just a dream, her desire for someone to be there for her, to care and look after her.

She wondered if Lady Floris felt satisfaction now.

She knew she had partially earned it – despite knowing her cousin was betrothed, she did not push him away when his lips pressed against hers and his hand went under the fabric of her robe.

She acknowledged with surprise that she did not resent her.

"My head hurts a lot." She confessed at last, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

The Maester nodded in understanding, handing her some herbal infusion in a cup.

"Drink this, my Lady. It will soothe the pain. You should spend the day resting." He said.

They both shuddered as the door to her chamber opened: her cousin stepped inside dressed in an emerald tunic, his hair slightly damp, as if he had just taken a bath, tied back with a black ribbon.

"Leave us alone." He ordered, looking at her calmly with a gaze from which, for some reason, her heart beat harder.

"Your Highness." Said the Maester and bowed, disappearing after a moment behind the door.

Prince Aemond approached her lazily and surprised her as he sat on the bed beside her, leaning towards her, his hand touching her forehead as if he was checking something.

"Throughout the night, your body burned with fever. Thankfully, it's waned." He murmured, saying it more to himself than to her, sliding his fingers down her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek.

She felt a pleasant warmth in her lower abdomen as she realised that what she felt was not a dream.

He had really stayed with her.

She swallowed quietly, unable to look away from his gaze, her hand involuntarily touching his wrist.

"Will your betrothed forgive you?" She mumbled out, the guilt she felt like a needle stuck in her heart.

She didn't know this girl, but she had taken something from her.

She blinked as her cousin grinned broadly, a glint of madness in his gaze from which her heart pounded harder in her chest, the space between her thighs pulsed greedily around nothing.

"She is no longer my concern." He whispered, forming the letter o out of his mouth as if he were mocking, amused by the situation.

She looked at him for a moment and shook her head, not understanding what he was trying to say.

"What do you mean?"

"I have broken our betrothal. Just moments ago, at a meeting of the Small Council, I introduced to the assembled guard who was assigned to you, and whom Floris dismissed. No one else walked down the corridor, as they would have been spotted by the other guards. Her jealousy was a danger to the Crown. What if she thought she should also attack my sister, Helaena, fearing that I might also cohabit with her? My brother agreed with me that she could not remain in the Red Keep and left it at dawn today." He hummed, clearly pleased with himself, trailing his fingertips along her neck – his words made her eyes widen in disbelief.

He had simply sent her away.

Had this been his plan all along?

Had he kissed her then, in the library, hoping Floris would see it and do something ill-considered?

She didn't know why she felt an unpleasant stab of disappointment and regret, her eyebrows arching in sadness as she lowered her eyes, trying not to cry.

"What's that look? Hm?" He asked, catching her gently by the chin, lifting her face towards him so that she looked at him again.

"I admire how thoughtful everything you do is. Every step, every detail. Every gesture and sound." She whispered, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in her throat, fighting not to show him weakness.

"You think I planned this." He concluded, cocking his head to the side. "I wish I had. But you must believe me, dōna hāedar, that it was merely a matter of coincidence."

Dōna hāedar.

Sweet little sister.

"Lord Baratheon will not leave it like that. He will break the alliance." She whispered, and he snorted, leaning towards her, sinking his hand into her hair.

"So I'll take Vhagar and explain the situation to him. Mmm, I could take you with me – you would present to him the injustice that has befallen you at the hands of his daughter, and then you would warm my bed in one of the chambers in Storm's End." He said lightly, as if he thought that, indeed, this was a great plan with a guarantee of success.

"You would force him to listen to what you are doing to me." She sighed as she felt his thumb run over her lips, parting them, sinking his finger into their fleshy, moist structure.

She shuddered as his hand slid down to the material of her nightgown, untying it, a moan of surprise stuck in her throat as he spread it open, exposing her bare breasts.

"– I am a free man now, hāedar –" He gasped, leaning lower – her hands clenched into fists on either side of her head as the tip of his pink, wet tongue ran lazily over her hard, puffy nipple. "– and as your big brother, I have precedence in your bed –"

She threw her head back with an innocent, girlish moan as his lips clamped around her nipple, sucking on it gently as if he were a baby – her hands in some involuntary reflex entwined in his long white hair, pressing his face against her breast, feeling the shudders and pulsations surging through her cunt each time his tongue rolled around the sensitive spot.

"– ah –" She gasped, involuntarily rocking her hips, feeling this kind of sensation for the first time in her life – she didn't understand what purpose it was supposed to serve and she felt exposed, but on the other hand what he was doing was wonderfully pleasurable and exciting, her body responding to his caresses eagerly.

She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back her smile of satisfaction when his hand, clenched earlier on her breast, slid down her stomach lower, pulling impatiently at the material of her nightgown, searching blindly for the warmth between her thighs.

They both moaned, and her fingers pressed his face tighter to her body as his fingertips dug into her dripping folds, swollen with desire – her legs bent at the knees spread involuntarily, shamelessly asking for more.

He released her breast from between his lust-swollen lips and looked at her as if he had completely lost his mind, his gaze dark and shining as he lay down next to her on his side, guiding her hand to the twitching bulge in his breeches exactly as he had the evening before.

She didn't know why she was so willing, why when his forehead pressed against hers and their lips found each other in a passionate, loud kiss, filled with their sigh of delight, her fingers undid the buckles of his tunic and untied the material of his breeches, reaching fearlessly for what lay beneath them.

He closed his eyes and sighed, his body shuddering as he felt the gentle touch of her smooth hand on his erection, hot with desire, throbbing all over under her fingers. His free hand in some subconscious, helpless reflex sank into her hair, his lips melting with hers in a sweet caress seemed to seek reassurance that this would remain their secret.

The tips of their tongues licked against each other with their grunts of delight as his hand sunk into her leaking, silky cunt, circling around her small, delicate pearl while hers trailed over his throbbing manhood, teasing it.

He was hard as a rock.

"– squeeze it –" He breathed out into her mouth between one click of their wet lips and the next, taking his hand from between her thighs for a moment, clearly wanting to show her what he meant.

She opened her eyelids with difficulty, dulled by the sensations and his slick tongue sliding between their kisses down her throat, peering curiously at what she was touching. He stopped the caress for a moment, their faces pressed together, their gazes directed downwards.

"– here – right here – just like that, all the way to the top –" He whispered in a voice trembling with desire.

A quiet, helpless groan broke from his lips, enveloping her in the warmth of his breath as she obeyed him, clasping her fingers at the very base of his long, pink cock, squeezing it to the very tip of it, thick and smooth, dripping with his own wetness.

"– how is it possible for something like this to fit inside a woman? –" She mumbled and heard him smile, his hand returned back between her thighs, running warningly over her leaking slit.

"– I'll show it to you myself – one day –" He murmured, his lower lip running over hers in a gesture inviting her to another kiss, which she accepted with unprecedented eagerness, letting his hand sink into her hair to pull her closer, refusing to let her escape his starved mouth.

"– harder –" He demanded in a voice hoarse with desire between their loud, passionate kisses, and she smiled involuntarily under her breath – her hand, in accordance with his desire, clamped tighter on his root, causing him to let out a surprised, boyish moan from his throat.

Her heart fluttered harder in her chest at the thought that she didn't know he was capable of making such sounds.

So innocent.

Now, in this moment, he was helpless, vulnerable to hurt.

He craved.

And she couldn't waste this chance.

The space between her thighs was delighted with her plan, feeling his fingers circling around her swollen bud with cruel precision, their breaths heavy as their tips pushed against her entrance, opening her on their thickness.

"– lēkia –" She breathed out, a startled, sweet moan of euphoria bursting from her lips directly into his throat as his fingers forced their way deep inside her, only to slide out and repeat it all over again.

He sighed as she squeezed his swollen erection tighter in response – their hands found a shared rhythm, their hips rolling back and forth at the same time, their lips melting into hot kisses filled with excitement and impatience.

"– don't stop – mmm –" He purred into her lips, panting hard along with her, shivers of wondrous delight shaking her body again and again each time his fingertips hit the sweet spot deep inside her, from which she felt the tickle in her lips and nipples.

"– I – o-oh, gods –" She whimpered, feeling her inevitable peak approaching, his hand from her hair slid lower to her breasts, clamping down on it as if he himself was trying to hold back the inevitable.

"– go on – come on my fingers –" He exhaled, and those words were enough to make her body shake with a sweet shudder, from which a startled, innocent moan escaped her throat – she felt his fingers stop moving inside her, wanting only to feel her fleshy walls pulsing around their length, sucking them inside her.

"– hāedar –" He whispered and gasped all over with a sigh of relief when, after her next sure squeeze, his pearly, sticky release spilled over the snow-white material of her nightgown.

They lay like this, panting heavily, welted and sweaty with emotion, pressing their foreheads against each other, his hand lingering on her bare breast and deep inside her womanhood while her fingers stroked gently his throbbing, quivering manhood.

Despite what they had done, and that it was certainly a sin, there was also something innocent about it – their desires were pure and sincere, devoid of subtext, seeking only the release of tension, closeness and security.

When she opened her eyes she saw that his gaze was fixed on her chest, his lips slightly parted in a deep, uneven breath.

She thought he longed to do what he had always done with his lover – to sink his face between her plump breasts and allow himself to be embraced by her – but he knew that she knew his secret and that if he did so, he would expose himself to ridicule and confirm his brother's words.

She lifted her free hand and gently placed it on his, inviting him to sink his fingertips deeper into the soft structure of her bosom – he sighed when he looked at her, as if he didn't know what he thought of it himself, and after a moment he leaned down and nestled his face into the crook of her neck.

His hand remained on her breast – encourage by her gesture, he played with it between his fingers as her arms embraced and cuddled him into her, and he didn't push her away or say a word.

Looking down at her fingers sticky with his spend, her other hand combing lazily through his long white hair, she thought she had tamed not one dragon, but two.

They were both silent – there was something safe about that. It seemed to her that they both knew that whoever spoke first would show weakness – not of flesh but of character – and neither of them could afford to do so.

Desire was like thirst or hunger, obvious and needing no explanation, indicative of nothing more in fact it was.

It didn't need feelings.

"Criston Cole is gathering our army. He and my uncle will soon march for Harrenhal." He hummed, enveloping her neck with his warm breath, his hands closed over her breasts and her womanhood moved, stroking both places, making her shiver.

He shared his knowledge with her because he was proud of himself and felt a sense of satisfaction – he sought confirmation of his genius, her praise and understanding, her gaze of admiration that he so desperately desired.

Or was it a test?

Was he telling her this because he wanted to see if she contacted her father?

They both shifted position, lying on their sides, looking straight into each other's eyes – there was something in his gaze and grin that filled her with anxiety.

"Daemon is expecting our answer. What he doesn't know, however, is that Cole will actually head off to a different location."

She blinked, looking at him confused.

"Why?" She asked and sighed as he gently took her hand in his, looking at her in simultaneous concentration and excitement, as if he was delighted that she had asked about it.

She thought in disbelief that he was acting like a little boy.

He confided in her.

"– your smooth hand is Dragonstone –" He said, placing her hand on the bed and pointed with a circular motion of his finger to the sheet around it. "– all around it is the sea –"

"– this –" He murmured, his other hand sinking lazily into the skin of her exposed, bare breast, making her involuntarily clench her thighs. "– is King's Landing – and this –"

He whispered, slowly running his knuckles down her smooth stomach, a quiet sigh escaped her lips as his fingertips sank gently into the fleshy, moist folds of her soft womanhood.

"– this, dōna hāedar, is Harrenhal – everyone desires it, for it is the fortress that opens the way to the North – moreover, it is currently besieged by your father –" He gasped, teasing her throbbing slit with his fingers, causing her lips to part in a ragged breath, feeling the pleasant tingle of pleasure run down her spine.

She felt with shame that her nipples had hardened, pointy and sensitive, her little cunt all swollen from the waves of tickling ecstasy into which his words and touch had brought her.

"– this –" He continued, sliding his fingers, wet with her moisture up her thigh and knee. "– this is Winterfell – and with it the whole of the North –"

"– however, there is another important, inconspicuous place –" He said contentedly, returning his hands to her palm, his fingers running over her wrist. "– here is Rook's Rest – a small fortress that allows my sister-whore to cross to the continent – however, if you cut it off –"

He said and made a movement with the side of his hand across her wrist, as if he were cutting it off with a dagger.

Her heart thumped harder in her chest as she suddenly comprehended.

"– you want to cut her off from the land –" She muttered and he hummed, cocking his head, his lips curved in expression as if her words gave him satisfaction and tickled his ego.

"– does your brother know about this? –" She asked, and his expression changed – his jaw clenched in displeasure, his iris turned black, his brow straightened.

Her question frustrated him and destroyed his pleasant vision, she thought as he took his hands from her warm body.

"– Aegon did not devote his life to the art of war or the complexities of warfare – he preferred to drink and play with his whores –" He said with a wide smile that, if it were not for the look in his eyes, she might have considered joyful.

She knew, however, that he was furious.

She raised herself up on her elbows, letting the material of her nightgown slide even lower, exposing her shoulders and stomach.

"– don't do it – tell him –" She muttered, and he stood up, infuriated, and immediately tied the material of his breeches, displeased with the direction this discussion had taken.

"– I don't recall asking you for your opinion – it was a mistake to introduce a woman into these complicated, masculine matters –" He said coldly in a tone that suggested that one more ill-chosen word on her part and he would lose patience despite everything that had happened between them.

She, however, knew that what he was doing would sooner or later lead to a catastrophe of which she too would become a victim.

She had no intention of dying because of his pride.

"– your brother sees you as a threat – he is disturbed by your behaviour and is tense in your presence –" She said, looking at him pleadingly.

He, to her surprise snorted and laughed, looking down at her, a wide grin on his face.

"– he's afraid of me –" He said in a way as if it was his great achievement for which she should praise and kiss him.

She shook her head feeling that her face expressed terror.

"– yes, he's afraid of you – and that's not good information neither for you nor for me – gods, you can't let him stop trusting you – you're balancing on a thin line and forgetting that it doesn't matter if he fits the role or not, he's the King –" She said in a breaking voice, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

He stood over her with his lips slightly parted, breathing loudly, as if he was boiling inside, not knowing what to make of her words.

His gaze fled lower for a moment, to her breasts, as if her bared flesh and the memory of the pleasure they had given each other distracted him, and then back to her face.

He was silent.

He hesitated.

This was her chance.

"– I beg you to tell him – in the solitude of the chamber, so that no words are said in public – so that he cannot accuse you of plotting behind his back –" She whispered, shifting towards him on her hands, settling herself finally in front of him on her knees, looking up at him pleadingly.

He swallowed hard and clenched his hands into fists, as if struggling to restrain himself from touching her – her gaze fled down to the material of his breeches, under which his manhood pulsed.

"– this fool will demand Harrenhal – he won't understand – he wants great fortresses and great victories, not realising that war is composed of cunning and guile –" He said quietly, looking her straight in the face, his lips parted as if he was thirsty and she was a fleshy, wet fruit.

"– so let's convince him together – I know how to speak to him – he enjoys me and my honesty – he'll feel he's making important decisions, even though they've long since been made for him –" She said, breathing hard as he did, feeling how much she was risking by conversing with him so directly.

She saw something sinister flash in his eye, his tongue running over his lower lip.

"– do you let him touch you? –"

She blinked and snorted in disbelief, shaking her head as if she wasn't sure if he had really asked about it.

"– no – his tongue doesn't burst in between my lips and his hand doesn't seek the heat between my thighs –" She said and they both fell silent, panting quietly, as if something in her words aroused both her and him.

They shuddered and pulled away from each other as they heard someone's footsteps outside the door – her hands immediately covered her shoulders and breasts with her nightgown, while he quickly buckled his tunic.

When a quiet knock sounded she glanced at him and only spoke up when he looked as if nothing had happened between them.

She thought with amusement that because of their elation, his hair didn't look as perfect as usual.

"Come." She called out, and a servant came in with a tray, saying that she had brought the morning meal for her as prescribed by the Maester.

Her cousin left without a word, letting her eat in peace, and she exhaled heavily, spreading a piece of bread with berry confiture, thinking she was treading on thin ice.

She was neither his lover, nor his sister, nor his servant, but a chaos of his desires and needs.

Gods, have mercy on me, she thought.

To her surprise, as she was being examined by the Maester, who was looking at a large lump on her head, the King walked into her room.

Aegon seemed pleased that she was alive and looked healthy.

"– ah, you're awake, cousin – great news – Baratheon's whore is on her way back to her home – my brother never liked to have his toys destroyed – and I will not allow any of my family to be harmed in this fortress again –" He said lightly, walking over to the table, taking one of the jars that contained the herbs brought by the medics – he shook it, raised his eyebrows in disapproval and set it down.

She did not reply, deciding that silence in such a situation was safer.

"– he was never able to hide his jealousy or his displeasure, you know – he was forever walking around with his mouth curved in disgust, proud and vain, with his nose in his big books, as if they would make his other eye grow back –" He muttered, pacing around her bed, looking around the room.

"– you're a dragon rider and my cousin, and he gave you such a small chamber – it's inappropriate – I'll assign you another, better one, with a view of the sea – Lady Floris slept in it before, but I think she won't haunt you in your dreams – you'll be content –" He said, looking at her, and she nodded and smiled involuntarily.

"– that's it – that's the spirit – I like it – you should see Sunfyre – have you ever been in Dragon's Pit? –" He asked, as if hundreds of thoughts were going through his mind at once, and he was unable to focus on any.

"– no, my King –" She replied softly and hissed as the Maester touched a spot on the back of her head that was all sore and swollen.

"– forgive me, my Lady –" He whispered, and she nodded.

Aegon didn't seem to see this and simply went on.

"– we will travel there this afternoon, by carriage, so as not to strain you –" He said and seeing that the Maester wanted to state with certainty that this was not a good idea he raised his hand in the air, showing him not to interrupt mid-sentence. "– the fresh air will certainly do her good, and we won't spend much time there –"

Whether she wanted to or not, she had to go.

She didn't do so reluctantly, though, for indeed, she wanted to see the other dragons and the great cave they lived in.

However, as soon as the carriage doors closed behind them she realised what the true purpose of this journey was.

"I want Daemon to answer for the death of my son and I need you to help me convince my brother that I should set off to fight with him. He doesn't agree and every time he does it, he humiliates me in the eyes of the Small Council." He said with regret and frustration, from which she swallowed hard.

Oh gods.

She looked down at her hands, feeling the panic rising within her, standing between them as if between two walls that were moving closer and closer, finally colliding with each other and crushing her at the same time.

"The King must remain in King's Landing. Without you there is no point in all this." She said, looking at him expectantly.

She clenched her hands on her knees when she saw that his jaw clamped shut in rage, his eyes red from tears as his fist hit the carriage wall with all its force.

"– he's my son – you don't understand it – you're not a mother – my children are my biggest pride – they are sweet, good and kind, and now – now my son is locked in a cold stone sarcophagus underground and he's probably scared –" He mumbled out, burying his face in his hands, as if he believed that a decapitated child could wake up.

Despite the absurdity of his words, her throat tightened in sympathy, tears of sadness gathered under her eyelids as she looked at his huddled, distraught figure.

"– he's not suffering anymore – he's in a place where no one can hurt him again –" She muttered, and he sobbed loudly, as if he was only now allowing himself to truly grieve.

She swallowed hard when he reached out his arm to her, placing his elbow on his knee.

"– can you hold my hand? –" He gasped, choking on his own tears, and she felt a single, heavy tear run down her cheek.

Her hand grasped his, and his fingers tightened on hers as he cried and cried and cried.

Some part of her felt the need to embrace him and comfort him, she feared, however, that he might take this as an invitation to something else, something she did not want.

She didn't desire him that way, and his brother's fury would be immense.

So she held his hand in hers until they reached Dragon's Pit.

Sunfyre looked like a dragon straight out of fairy tales told to children – slender, long, shining as if he were made of pure gold he looked proud and towering. She smiled when she saw that the beast had pressed its head against its master's chest, and Aegon kissed its scales as if his dragon was also his child.

Something moved her at that sight, at his genuine joy and laughter.

She realised with horror that his younger brother had never smiled.

Not really.

The journey back to the Red Keep passed as she listened to his stories about their father.

"My father, and your uncle mostly forgot about having more than one child. The fucking cunt of Dragonstone was his favourite. His heiress to the throne even though he had a first-born son, for whom, after all, he had opened the womb of his first, beloved wife. Apparently he did so against her pleas, and her cries were heard throughout the fortress. And yet, my mother and my grandfather say that I should follow his example. That he was a wonderful, merciful king." He said, looking at her with a smile full of amusement, however, there was something else in his gaze: pain and fatigue.

He had not slept well for many months and only found comfort in wine.

"And your sister-wife? What is she like?" She asked, though she did not know why.

Aegon fell silent and the amusement disappeared from his face – he stared blankly out of the carriage window for a moment, as if musing.

"Her person is an eternal mystery to me. I don't usually understand what she says. But she is gentle and kind. She does not humiliate me, although she, of all our family, has the most reason to despise me." He said finally.

She swallowed silently, thinking that there was something childlike and innocent in his words, sincere and helpless, a cry of despair and a plea for help that no one answered.

She wondered if he and his brother knew how much alike they were.

She wanted to say it and had it on the tip of her tongue, but after a moment she realised that her cousin would kill her if he found out that she had described his weaknesses to his brother.

She had to balance the two of them so that they both loved her.

In some way.

When they returned to the fortress she immediately headed to her chamber, dreaming only of a warm bath.

As she stepped into her small room she reached into the back of her gown, grabbing the ties of her bodice, and opened her mouth, wanting to call out to a servant to help her.

"Where have you been?"

She looked back, terrified, clutching at the heart that had stopped in her throat hearing his cold voice – she saw his silhouette sitting on one of the chairs like a statue, his face stony and blank, his gaze dark.

Exactly as it had been when she had first seen him.

"With the King." She replied truthfully, reaching her fingers trembling with anxiety into the back of her gown again, pulling at the thin, bright ribbon, causing the whole dress to loosen.

She saw his lips tighten in fury, his nostrils twitching in a deep breath as if he was trying to control himself and not lash out at her.

"For what reason?" He asked further, tilting his head in curiosity, his wide grin indicating that he was on the verge of exploding.

"He wanted to show me Dragon's Pit and Sunfyre." She said without lowering her gaze, knowing that she could not show him fear.

She jumped up and took a step back, terrified when he suddenly burst from his chair with such fury that she only had time to snort for air and he was already at her side, grabbing her aggressively at the waist, slamming her body against the bedpost.

She sighed, resisting him passively as his free hand lifted the material of her skirt with a sharp movement, her hand gripped his wrist as his fingers sank into her womanhood and pushed against her slit, causing her discomfort and pain.

"– no – it hurts when I'm not prepared –" She exhaled, looking him straight in the eye.

They both breathed hard as something like satisfaction flashed across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk full of contentment at the realisation that she wasn't wet.

That she didn't desire his brother.

He took his hand away and let her go, taking a step back and looking at her for a moment in silence.

"Mmm. I have come to you with another matter. From now on, our lessons will be held in my chamber. I wish to ensure that no one will…disturb us." He hummed softly, suddenly completely calm and pleased, the fingers of his hands rubbing against each other as if he was excited by the vision.

She sighed quietly, leaning the back of her head against the wooden column, feeling her cunt pulsate all over at the subtext she heard clearly in his words.

"So that no one disturbs my education, as I understand it?" She asked quietly, his gaze fixed on her hot and filled with something combining lust and madness.

"Indeed. What I wish to teach you requires much concentration and the privacy of the chamber." He said, and she felt her lips part wide in a thirsty sigh.

The corner of her cousin's mouth twitched in a grin, as if he remembered something, and then he moved towards the door, glancing at her over his shoulder with an expression from which a shiver ran along her spine.

"Wear the same robe as the last time. And let your hair down."

[the-fiction-witch]

I Like Him P3

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 15 Word Count - 1250

Requested -

Need. More of this so bad P3! I beg!!! Plz Part 3 of I like him More Oscar! More please!

The great fortress of Harrenhal bustled with activity as armies were being raised and prepared, gathering within the ancient walls. The grand hall was filled with a sense of urgency and purpose, with every seat at the round table occupied. The Riverlords convened in the grand hall, their seats arranged around the ornate table. Daemon sat at the head of the table, emanating an aura of authority, with Lord Strong positioned to his right and Jaerra to his left. Lord Oscar occupied the seat beside Jaerra. The table was covered with an array of dishes, although it was not a lavish spread, the quality of the food was more than sufficient for the lords in attendance. A group of musicians in the corner softly played melodic tunes, creating a pleasant ambience for the guests to enjoy while engaging in lively conversation and savouring their meal.

As the evening unfolded, Oscar couldn't help but steal frequent glances at Jaerra as they engaged in conversation and shared a meal. Despite growing tired, they silently acknowledged each other as the youngest ones at the table, silently agreeing not to be the first to leave. They both knew that leaving early would inevitably lead to playful teasing and inside jokes at their expense, so they decided to stay put, exchanging a wordless understanding between them.

Jaerra had changed since earlier in the day, wearing one of her black gowns with red knotted embroidery around her waist and hems with Juliet sleeves that flowed long past her waist, Jaerra found herself feeling a bit disengaged as she sat at the table, the lively conversation around her fading into the background as she became entranced by the music playing in the room. Unconsciously, she started tapping along in sync with the enchanting tune, with her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand,

Oscar's attention was drawn to a subtle vibration beneath his feet, prompting him to glance down at Jaerra's feet before returning his gaze to her face. As he pondered the situation, an idea struck him. With a glass of wine in hand, he took a sizable gulp, draining the glass in one go. He fixed his clothes a little having removed his armour from earlier and he stood, turning to Jaerra with a smile and extending his hand towards her. "My lady?"

Her eyes flicked to him, glancing down to his palm and back to his eyes before she spoke, "Yes, my Lord Tully?"

"May I uhh, May I-" He stuttered a little, "Would you like to dance?"

A gentle, subtle smile slowly appeared on her lips as she gracefully turned in her seat. With a flourish of her hand, she made a dramatic, lady-like gesture that added an air of elegance to her movements. "Why yes I would my lord,"

She rested her hand softly on his own, and with a wide smile rose from her seat.

Oscar could barely believe it but he hid his smile as best he could and led her around the table to the stones in front of the musicians,

"Forgive me, I do not recall the last time I danced," she admitted,

"I- am not so sure I ever have," Oscar chuckled,

As they began to dance, they moved with a gradual and tentative manner, being careful not to step on each other's toes or miss the other's arm. Over time, they found a rhythm with the music and with each other. As they danced, their smiles continued to grow, and they couldn't help but laugh with each other.

The other lords paid them little mind, too busy focused on wine and food.

Lord Strong, with a warm smile on his face, leaned back in his chair and observed the two of them dancing. It was as if he were a proud grandfather, taking in the joyful scene before him. "How very sweet," He cooed,

Daemon heard this and looked up from his food to notice his daughter, he watched Jaerra and Oscar dance with a disinterested look but found himself flooded with thoughts inside his mind.

He felt... protective of Jaerra, for perhaps the first time in her life. He didn't like the idea of his daughter dancing with a man let alone the young Lord Tully a boy he didn't exactly have the highest opinion of.

But he also felt he didn't wish to end it, he knew he could if he wanted to. Simply a word would end this whole thing but when he saw her smile so widely he found himself chewing on his inner cheek unable to call it to end.

The longer he watched the more he thought, he wished to look away but found himself unable to.

He thought of his children, all of the young in his household. He thought of Jaerra, of Beala, of Rhaena, of Jacaerys, of Lucerys, of Aegon, of Viserys and even of Visenya.

It occurred to him just how little he thought of the children, he of course did think of them always in his mind but... so often pushed to the back of whatever else he had to deal with.

He pondered the uncertain future that lay ahead, the impending war that loomed on the horizon. For the first time, he contemplated the staggering number of lives that would inevitably be lost, and the immense suffering that would unfold. What had once seemed inconsequential to Daemon, merely a part of the brutal reality of war, now weighed heavily on his conscience. As he observed Jaerra and Oscar twirling in a graceful dance, his mind raced with thoughts of the losses. He envisioned each of his children, positioned steadfastly at the forefront of the battle lines, wielding swords and dragons soaring through the sky. In an instant, it all vanished. The melodic sound of Jaerra's laughter enveloped his senses, gradually transforming into the joyous giggles and playful sounds she once emitted as a baby, filling his heart with both warmth and sorrow.

"Reminds me of my sweet Eleana," Lord Simon Strong cooed,

Jaerra and Oscar finished their little dance with a final linked arm spin, but Oscar kept his hand with hers and brought her knuckles to his lips pressing a tender kiss to her skin, closing his eyes as he did before glancing up to meet Jaerra's eyes.

She smiled and bent her knees to lowly curtsy never breaking their eye contact.

A few lords gave the two some gentle claps, Simon Strong included.

But Daemon did not, he waited seething.

Jaerra and Oscar returned to their seats at the table but before a word could be spoken or a cup could be sipped, Daemon grabbed Jaerra but the wrist.

"Go." He demanded,

"What?!" she protested,

"Go. To. Bed." He demanded through gritted teeth,

"Let me go, I'll go to bed when I'm ready,"

"I am your father. And I say you are going to bed. Now." He growled,

"Fine." She sighed pulling her hand free, she turned to Oscar and smiled, "I'm heading to bed, thank you for the dance my lord,"

"Of course, thank you as well," Oscar smiled back, "Did you want me to walk you to your chambers?"

Jaerra was about to answer but Daemon shot her a look, "No thank you, it's alright. Have a pleasant evening."

"I see, well sleep well Jaerra," Oscar smiled,

"You too Oscar," She smiled before she stood from her seat giving Daemon a glare before she turned and left the hall.

Daemon and Oscar met eyes, and each shared a dark look between each other. 

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏᴛᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ.

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʟᴀᴅʏ ʀʜᴀᴇʟʟᴀ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ʀᴜɴᴇꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ. ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ɴᴏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ. ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴠɪꜱᴇʀʏꜱ ɪ, ꜱʜᴇ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴋɪɴɢꜱ ʟᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀɪɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɪꜱᴏʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ.

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Rhaella is 10 years old at the start of the story and Aemond is a year younger than her at 9.

125 AC

They say the weather was beautiful the day her mother was buried. Her cousin, Gerold had told her stories of her mother. Rhea Royce had dark curly hair and deep brown eyes.

"Why do I not look like her?" She had asked

"You take after your father. The blood of the dragon." Gerold had said one night at supper.

Her father. A man she had never met. Supposedly he had been at her birth and once she had come into the world healthy and screaming, he mounted his dragon and flown off.

Not even a year later she had attended her mother's funeral. According to Gerold, the wet nurse had held her as she slept peacefully while her mother was buried.

Now, 10 years later here she sat dreaming of a life she could've had.

"Rhaella?"

Her eyes met the Maester Edric's. His wrinkled hand pointed to the map of Westeros.

"What is the sigil of House Greyjoy?" He asked

"A yellow cracken." She sighed.

They had been at it for hours. Maester Edric had been torturing her by pointing to the map and having her name the great houses and their sigils. Rhaella wanted to rip her silver hair from her head out of boredom.

"It is a golden cracken, my lady." He says

"Isn't that the same thing?" She said

He shot her a look of disapproval.

"You will need to know these things to rule Runestone one day. Your cousin cannot preside forever. You are your mother's heir." Edric reminds her

"I have been hearing those words for my entire life." She groaned

"It is an important responsibility." He said

Silence followed as he pointed to the next house on the map.

"House Lannister. A golden lion." She rattled off

"Good. What are the words of House Lannister?" He asked

"What is my father doing? The last you spoke of him you said he had remarried to Lady Laena." She asked, ignoring his question about the stupid Lannisters.

"Daemon is living in Pentos with Lady Laena and their daughters." Edric says "According to the latest reports your half-sister Baela's dragon, Moondancer, is growing quickly and their bond with each other is strong."

Rhaella nodded and kept her silence. She wished she had a dragon. Her father had never chosen an egg for her cradle and she had never even left Runestone to try to claim one. A dragon would make it so easy to escape these boring lessons she sat through daily.

"Might we take a break? I wish to have supper." She asked

"Of course. I hear tonight's duck stew will be wonderful. Gerold has caught it himself." Maester Edric smiled as he gathered up his things.

Rhaella helped him to the door of her chambers. She worried about the old man's health sometimes. It seemed that every day he grew slower and slower. Edric was the closest thing she had to a father figure. Sure, her cousin could've passed but he was busy ruling Runestone until she came of age.

"Lady Rhaella, Maester Edric." A maid was blocking the door frame when she pulled the door open. "A raven has arrived for you, My Lady."

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

King's Landing had a certain charm she had never experienced before. Sure, it stunk, terribly...but the bustle and the noise was something Rhaella was captivated by.

"Remember to curtsey," Edric whispered in her ear as they stood before the Iron Throne.

Behind them the large doors were opened and King Viserys approached them. A large smile was on his face as he gestured for them to stop their bowing.

"How was the journey. Not too rough?" He asked

"Not at all, my King. This is my first time away from Runestone so I enjoyed the road." She admitted, rattling off what Edric had told her to say to the King.

"That is good. I hope both of you will settle in well here." King Viserys said

"I am sure we will, your grace." Edric replied "If I might ask, I was wondering what you wanted to see Lady Rhaella about? Your letter was rather cryptic."

"I simply wished to meet my niece. I had heard that you were becoming a wonderful young lady and wanted to meet you at last. Every Targaryen needs to know their family." He said

"You honor me, your grace." She smiled, filled with glee at the thought of a family, a real one.

"Uncle." He smiled "Now, you will be shown to your rooms but tonight we are having a family dinner. I want you to be familiar with where you come from."

Rhaella could hardly believe what was happening. The moment the handmaiden had shut her door, she had collapsed on the bed. It felt like her dreams were coming true. She was finally out of Runestone and finally able to meet people she was truly related to.

An odd sound brought her out of her fantasy as she glanced at the door. It sounded like the sound of skin being slapped. Hushed whispers filled her ears as she pressed her ear to the door.

"I want to enter first!"

"I got here first, Jace! You can enter after me."

"No!"

"I'm older than both of you, so I get the honor of opening the door."

"Opening the door isn't an honor, Aegon."

Rhaella presumed the king's eldest son was the Aegon on the other side of the door. She wasn't sure who this Jace was but he seemed upset that he couldn't open her door.

"You're a twat." a voice said from the other side

With that declaration from whoever it was, she pulled on the handle herself to reveal the mysterious voices.

"I'm going to tell Mother that you didn't let me enter first!" A brown-haired boy says to another boy who looks like him.

"She won't care!" He argued back

"And I thought you'd be ugly. Looks like you take after our uncle." The tallest, Aegon, she presumed spoke.

"Are you Lady Rhaella? Our mother told us you were here. You're our Uncle Daemon's daughter!" A dark-haired boy greeted

A sharp pang of anxiety ran through her as she looked at the four boys in front of her. Two dark-haired ones and two with hair like hers. She had never interacted with another person her age and now it seemed like there were four of them in front of her. Well, maybe three. The tallest seemed a bit older.

"I thought women from the Vale would look like sheep." Aegon's taunting voice fell on her ears yet she couldn't bring herself to tell him he looked like sheep himself with that curly hair of his.

"You shouldn't say things like that." One of the dark-haired boys scolded

"Are you going to stop me?" Aegon asked, mocking the younger boy.

"You are frightening her." One voice cut Aegon and the dark-haired boy off,

Rhaella's eyes met the other silver-haired boy who was at her door. He was much smaller than Aegon, of course, she presumed he was just younger than him.

"Thank you." She smiled "You are all quite...loud. I am afraid I am not used to conversing with people our age."

"I am Lucerys." The shortest one who looked like he might have been no more than seven said. "This is Jacaerys. He's my brother and it was his idea to meet you before dinner tonight."

"Hello." She greeted. Upon hearing their names she remembered who these dark-haired boys were. Jacaerys and Lucerys were sons of her future queen, Princess Rhaenerya.

"I'm Aegon." The tallest said, confirming her hunch. He gestured lazily to the last boy "Aemond."

"You should ignore him. He's very odd." Jacaerys said glancing at Aegon.

She smiled at Aemond who seemed to be the quietest out of all of them.

"I'll see you at dinner, sheep girl." Aegon said before sauntering off

"It is from all the wine he drinks, Jace." Lucerys says

"Yes, well, too much wine will do that to a person." She smiles, trying to say something these boys will find interesting

Lucerys giggled and whispered something into Jacaery's ear. The older boy nodded and whispered something back.

"Do you want to come to the Dragon Pit with us? I am training with my dragon Vermax today.

"I do not have a dragon to train with, I should just remain here." She said sadly

"Aemond doesn't have one either! The two of you can just watch us." Lucerys says

Rhaella glanced at Aemond who avoided her eyes. It was surprising to her that a Prince did not have a dragon of his own.

"Will I get to see the dragon eat something?" She asked hopefully

The Dragon Pit was more monstrous than she had ever imagined. Her neck ached as she stared at the huge building.

"We're falling behind." Aemond's voice filled her ears

He had fell into step with her after Jacaerys and Lucerys had decided they had to race each other to the pit. The winner was to claim the other's dessert tonight at dinner.

"Right, sorry." She said as he led her toward where the others were

Aemond had been mostly silent during their travel here. The carriage ride had been filled with Jacaerys and Lucerys chattering about all sorts of different things. Mainly talk of how their mother was six moons pregnant and how they both desired a baby brother.

Rhaella had tried to follow the conversation but their talking was a bit overwhelming and hard to follow. She had taken to watching Aemond who seemed fixed on staring at his shoes.

"Dracarys Vermax!" Jacaerys shouts to the green dragon in front of them.

Rhaella feels her face heat up as the dragon spits fire at the sheep in front of him. Her heart speeds up as her mind races with the ideas of claiming a dragon for herself. She was envious of the young dark-haired princes who had eggs that hatched for them.

"It is boring after you see it a thousand times." Aemond says from her right

"I do not think I could ever become bored of that." She smiles

"Without a dragon of your own, watching others train their own becomes depressing." He sighs

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Princess Rhaenerya's screams were echoing through the castle. Edric had told Rhaella that laboring to bring a child into this world could take days sometimes. Rhaella found herself wishing that the screaming would cease. Could they not give the princess something for the pain she was experiencing? Surely as heir to the throne she was entitled to that.

"I thought you said you were going to listen if I read."

"I am listening. Keep going." Rhaella glares

Aemond shot her a look but kept reading about Visenya and her conquest of Drone.

"What do you think childbirth is like?" She asked her companion

A loud yell from Rhaenerya's chamber echoed down the halls and into her room.

"Painful," Aemond said not looking up from the book

Rhaella elbowed him in the side.

"Ow!" He yelped "Why did you do that?"

"Because I can tell it's painful! She's been screaming for hours."

"Well, you asked me what I thought!" Aemond said

"I hope I never have children. I don't want to experience the pain the Princess is enduring." She declared

"Aren't you the heir to Runestone?" Aemond asked

Rhaella looked at him like he was an idiot. He knew she was so why was he asking.

"Being an heir means you have to have children." He pointed out

Stupid Aemond and his observations.

"Nobody asked you." She scoffs

Viserys was tired. He had spent the better part of the day at a long small council meeting. His back was hurting and the sores that had taken over his body were driving him mad. Yet, instead of resting like he had planned his wife was pacing in front of him, she was beginning to make him dizzy.

"Might you sit down?" He sighed

"Did you not hear a word I just said?" Alicent asked

"I heard you. You worry yourself for nothing." He said

"They will not remain children forever. Separating them now will be easier than later." She said

"Why? Aemond finally has someone to be friends with. I have heard that they spend hours together reading." Viserys says

"I am trying to prevent improper events from occurring. You allow them to sit in her room with the doors closed for hours, alone. Aemond is..." Alicent trails off

"Aemond is not like Aegon. He will not hurt Rhaella." Viserys assures

"And if you're wrong?" Alicent asks

"I am not wrong," Viserys says

"If something were to happen and Daemon received word-"

"Daemon does not care for her. I have written to him many times about her and how wonderful she is and his only response was that she is the product of a drunken mistake." He stops his wife rambling

"What if he changes his mind one day. I do not think he even wants her to be interacting with our sons let alone reading with one for hours." Alicent says

"You worry over nothing. Even if Daemon changes his mind, they are nothing but children who are friends."

The pig was a cruel joke.

Aemond could feel hot tears on his waterline as he stumbled back towards his room. He wished ill on his little nephews and big brother. He is already aware he is dragonless, why must they remind him of it in such a crude manner?

"Aemond? Is that you? My needlework lessons ended early and I brought a book about..."

He feels his face heat up when Rhaella turns around from her place at his desk to lay eyes on him. She wasn't even supposed to be in his room for another two hours.

"What happened?" She asked

"Nothing." He shrugged her off

"You are dirty and crying, that is not nothing." She pointed out

He cursed her out mentally for being able to see his tears. When did her eyes get that good?

"Was it Aegon? Or Jace and Luke? Or all of them?" She questioned

"All of them." He sighed lying down on his bed

"I will go-"

"Go and do what? Yell at them? They don't care about our opinions. We're boring to them. Dragonless Targaryens are nothing to them." He proclaims

"We are not nothing." She said jumping onto the bed and lying down next to him

Aemond let out a soft grunt at her declaration her words were falling on deaf ears.

"One day we're both going to get dragons and then we will race across the skies," Rhaella says

"I will win." He declares

"No, you won't! My dragon will be far quicker than yours." She gasps

"Yeah, it'll probably be ugly like you too then." Aemond laughs

Rhaella lets out an offended gasp and a pillow lands roughly on his face.

"Ugly? You must be talking about yourself!" She laughs as he pushes his hair from his face.

"You have not looked in the mirror lately, Rhaella." Aemond jested as his hands tightened around the pillow as he sat up to be eye level with her.

Perhaps she was going to say something witty back to him but was met with the soft fabric of the pillow as Aemond laughed.

Heleana watched quietly as her brother and cousin hit each other with the many pillows that adorn the bed. She had been sent to collect her cousin after she had snuck away from their needlework lessons yet she couldn't bring herself to intrude. Aemonds laughter and smile was something she rarely saw and it had her frozen in place.

"One day my dragon will race yours under the sun." Rhaella declares.

"And I will be the victor." Aemond cuts her off

And then Heleana's mouth is opening and her words are whispers in the shadows of her brother and cousin's joy and plans for the future.

"They will race under colors of green and black. The sky will be thick with blood."

This is my first HOTD fic so let me know how you liked it!

Next Part

[marihoneywk]

A dragon's ambition

Jacaerys Velaryon x older stepsister - one shot

Summary: Growing up under her father's influence in the Red Keep, Alysanne becomes determined to claim the Iron Throne. Feeling the sting of being overlooked and fuelled by ambition, Alysanne hatches a plan that involves the seduction of the heir to throne, her stepbrother Jacaerys, who also happens to be her half-sister's betrothed.

Warnings: incest (stepsiblings that are cousins), sexual content, p in v, tiddy succin, breeding kink, some fluff, third person narrative, oc is manipulative.

Word count: 3.8 k

Alysanne Targaryen was the oldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen. Conceived in the only night Lady Rhea Royce and Daemon spent together, Alysanne wasn’t a desired child, as her mother secretly tried to end the pregnancy.

However, Alysanne was tough and stubborn since the womb and came into the world crying so loud, the whole Vale could hear her. 

Daemon welcomed his daughter to live with him in the Red Keep upon her third name day, raising her in his own ways, educating her to be cunning and fearless.

Alysanne had grown up to be her father’s female version, a thing that scared Daemon. Her sharp mind aligned with her ethereal looks, made a dangerous combination that didn’t let any man escape. With her sweet eyes and big eyelashes, not even the guards were able to refuse a single request she made, crumbling immediately to her pleads. 

Alysanne liked her sisters, Baela and Rhaena, but didn’t love them. They were nice and fun to be around, but she couldn’t stop wandering if perhaps her life would be better, if they weren’t around. 

She also liked to believe she was her father’s favourite daughter, even if she wasn’t sure. It was only fair right? Baela and Rhaena had their own mother to favour them, while Alysanne only had Daemon. Her mother had a brief presence in her life, dying in a tragic accident with her horse three moons before Alysanne moved to Kings Landing. 

Alysanne’s life was pleasant enough, but then, Lady Laena Velaryon died and Baela and Rhaena were also left with only one parent.

They just seemed to want everything Alysanne had.

First, they played dress up with her gowns, then they ate all her honey cakes at breakfast and then finally got her father’s attention to themselves, as Daemon focused more on the twins, supporting then through their grief. 

Then, Rhaenyra came and married her father. 

Alysanne liked Rhaenyra though. She let the girl use her earrings and necklaces, and even gifted her some dresses from her younger years. But what Alysanne liked the most about her new stepmother was the fact that she was set to be next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, making Alysanne feel like she could just touch the Iron Throne

As a result of being raised in the Red Keep until moving to Pentos, Alysanne quickly learned the power of that seat. 

Even if she didn’t understand how Viserys got there, as an ant and him had the same skills to be king, every time he passed by her in the halls, she could not divert her eyes from the shining crown on top of his balding head. Suddenly her dreams were filled with images of her sitting in the Iron Trone, wearing long bright dresses and matching jewels. 

-

Alysanne and her family had just come back from the capital, landing victoriously in Dragonstone after securing Lucerys’ inheritance of Driftmark.

However, Alysanne couldn’t be madder. It had been announced to everyone the official betrothal of Lucerys and Rhaena, and Jacaerys and Baela.

How could her father and stepmother do this to her? She was the first Daemon’s daughter to become of age to wed, and they had just putted her aside, betrothing her younger sister to the future king of the Seven Kingdoms. 

Jacaerys and Alysanne weren’t very close, as the two-year age gap between them didn’t align their interests with each other. It was a small difference of age, but Jace was a typically childish boy, which contrasted with the more mature personally of the girl.

Of all her siblings, she preferred the younger ones, Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys. 

Their small age made it easier to shape their small minds into Alysanne’s likings. The girl quickly became their favourite sister as she would be the one that spent more time with them, playing, reading, and teaching them everything that she valued. Joffrey became so attached to the girl’s presence in his daily activities, that sometimes he would cry in his bed for her, and as a good sister, Alysanne would leave her chambers and put the boy to sleep with kisses on the forehead and loving lullabies.

-

Daemon had called Alysanne into his study , noticing the annoyed expression that hadn’t left his daughter’s face the whole trip to Dragonstone.  

“What’s wrong with you? You are acting different since last night.” Daemon asked looking directly into Alysanne’s eyes.

Alysanne wondered if she should tell her father what she was thinking exactly. Daemon liked honesty but she wasn’t sure if honesty was the right path to follow in this conversation.

“Why are Baela and Rhaena getting married before me?” Not exactly the centre of the matter that was bothering her, but it was close. 

Daemon laughed, not believing his daughter’s bad mood was caused by her sisters betrothals.

“Do you want a wedding for yourself, daughter? I didn’t know you were so eager to be attached to a man and to be popping out heirs.” Alysanne only rolled her eyes, not having the patience to her father’s typical comments. “I don’t understand your little tantrum Alysanne, if anything you should be thankful you don’t have to marry yet. But if you really are that desperate to get wed, Cregan Stark’s wife just passed away. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a Targaryen beauty like you being given to him.”

Alysanne immediately laughed in her father’s face, letting the anger that was slowing boiling beneath her skin finally snap.

“No!” She yelled, slamming her hands down on the wodden desk that stood in the middle of the room.

“No?” Daemon repeated, not expecting her outburst.

“How is that fair? Baela gets to be queen, and I get send away to freeze in the North?” Her loud voice echoed through the chambers, as Alysanne couldn’t believe her father’s suggestion.”I’m the oldest girl! I’m your oldest daughter, I should be the one getting my ass cozy in the throne! Not Baela!” She screamed and pointed her indicator finger to her father in an accusing manner. 

Daemon was shocked but without hesitation jumped in defence of his other daugther.

“You’re not going to speak about Baela like that again! Do you hear me Alysanne?!” Daemon’s shook her shoulders, letting his temper take the best of him.

Alysanne felt her eyes water and her throat itch, as she tried to contain the sobs she was holding back. Her father had never screamed at her, and not once he had directed his anger towards her like that.

The feeling of injustice settled once again on Alysanne’s chest, hurting like the sobs in her throat. 

“You’re going to inherit Runestone, isn’t that great already?” Daemon asked rhetorically and left the room they had entered, slamming the door on his way making Alysanne shudder. 

“Why have only Runestone when you can have all the Seven Kingdoms…” She whispered to the empty office as the tears finally fell from her eyes. 

Alysanne had one goal: be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And to accomplish that goal, she traced a plan that involved betraying her half-sister and her father. 

It would hurt, because she loved her father very much, but lately Daemon had been so distant from Alysanne and so close to Baela, that she didn’t feel that terrible doing it. 

-

Jacaerys was sitting in the beach of Dragonstone playing with little Viserys in the sand. Alysanne got closer and started an innocent conversation.

“Hello Jace.” She smiled gracefully at him. 

“Hi Aly.” He returned the jest, turning his attention to young boy next to him as he tried to stand to the sight of Alysanne.

“Hello to you too my love.” Viserys immediately put his little chubby arms in the air, begging for his sister to pick him up, showing his small teeth in a smile.

Alysanne bended over to pick up the babe, making sure she aligned the low neckline of her dress with Jacaerys’ eyesight. 

She turned to the older boy, now with the younger one on her right hip, and notice his red cheeks and the bobbing of his throat.

“How are you feeling brother?” Alysanne asked.

“A-, what-… what do you mean?” He was nervous. Like she had caught him doing something bad.

“About the betrothal, Jace. How are you feeling now that you are about the be a married man?”

“I’m content Aly, Baela is a kind and nice girl. It could be a lot worse.“ 

Alysanne knew he was being honest. Baela and Jacaerys were really good friends, and considering the Westerosi history in arranged marriages, she agreed that he definitely could have gotten worse.

“Do you think she will make a fine Queen?” She questioned him while sitting on the sand next to him, putting Viserys in her lap.

“With Daemon and my mother educating her, I don’t see how she could ever do wrong.” 

Alysanne started playing innocently with a curl on the side of Jacaerys' head, twirling it on her fingers. She pretended to not notice the chill on his neck and moved her hand to massage the curls on the top of his hair. 

“I agree with you brother, Baela would be a nice Queen. But would she be a nice Queen to you?” 

“I don’t understand Aly.” Jacaerys was getting flustered, getting distracted from the conversation as the girl's hands played so smoothly with his hair and her breasts were sitting so prettily in a pink dress. 

“A Queen should not only serve the realm, but should also serve her husband, the King. You know that right?” From his expression, it was clear that Jacaerys still wasn’t getting Alysanne’s point. “The marital bed is how Queens serve their Kings, brother. By giving them pleasure.” Alysanne smirked seeing Jacaerys’ blushed cheeks, laughing lightly when he avoided looking at her eyes. 

-

It was the middle of the night, and the castle was sleeping peacefully, except for Alysanne, who was just leaving her chambers, wearing nothing but her thin nightgown. Tiptoeing carefully on the stone floors to not alert any guards, she made her way to a room she had been very few times. 

Opening and closing the door quietly, she let her eyes wander through the dark chambers, stopping on the big bed and on the dark tuff of hair resting on the pillows. Jacaerys was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of his sister’s presence in his room.

Alysanne made her way to the bed, seating behind Jacaerys’ back, leaning carefully in his ear. 

“Jace…” She whispered while letting her index finger wander through his neck. 

The boy started to wake up, opening his eyes slowly trying to adjust to the lack of light. 

“Alysanne?” He interrogated turning his body to face her. 

“I think I saw a spider in my room. Can I sleep with you tonight Jace?” Alysanne pouted, batting her eyelashes the best she could, but the doubt in Jacaerys’ eyes was still visible.

“Aly, I don’t think it’s appropriate. If somebody catches you, we might get in trouble.” 

As much as his words were denying her, Alysanne noticed how his eyes went down to her nipples, that had perked due to coldness of the space, and were now very visible through her white nightgown. 

“Please Jace.” She pleaded, putting her hands his shoulders. “The spider was very big, and you know how scared I am of bugs.” 

“Fine, but you have to leave before the morning comes.” 

“Thank you Jace, you the best brother.” Alysanne kissed his cheek, making her breasts collide with his chest, and even in the dark atmosphere of the room, she could very much recognize his blushing look. 

Alysanne got under the covers, making herself comfortable on the second pillow of the bed. At first, she gave Jacaerys some distance, but as the minutes passed, she slowly began to move herself close to the boy. She was facing him, observing his closed eyes, and almost laughed at his failed attempt to pretend to sleep. 

Alysanne once again, let her fingers wander through his chest, following the patterns of his garment. 

“Aly…go to sleep” Jacaerys mumbled with his eyes still closed.

“I’m trying Jacey…” 

Alysanne lifted her right foot, making a gentle path up and down in his leg, not going up above the knee. 

Jacaerys stopped her foot from continuing to move, holding it tightly with his hand. 

“What are you doing Alysanne?” He said as he finally opened his eyes, giving her a serious look.

“I’m just caressing my brother. I like to make you feel good.” She muttered, now rubbing his leg with the foot that wasn’t trapped in his hand. 

Jacaerys closed his eyes once again, but this time doing it as mechanism to calm himself. Alysanne moved her eyes down the covers, espying the bulge on the boy’s breeches. She bitted her lip and drawn her face close to his, letting their noses touch slightly.

Alysanne could feel his warm but shaky breath, also smelling the scent of lavender in his hair.

“Jace, let me make you feel good tonight…” Jacaerys whole body got chills, as the girl whispered and started to kiss his neck, making a trail to his jaw. 

“Aly-, I- “He hummed, moving his hand from her foot, tightening his grip on her ankle.” I’m betrothed do Baela, and I can’t let yourself be ruined for your future husband.” 

“I appreciate your concern for my reputation brother, but I’m not a maiden anymore.” 

Alysanne didn’t let Jacaerys make any questions, biting his neck roughly which led to a loud grunt echoing through the room. 

“Carefully Jacey, you don’t mommy Rhaenyra to catch us don’t you? Or worse, my father and my sister. Can you imagine?” She said licking the spot behind his ear. 

Jacaerys just shook his head and surrendered to whatever Alysanne planned to do with him. 

Alysanne switched positions, straddling him with her legs, seating right on top of his erect cock. Jacaerys moaned and the girl took his hands putting them across her hips.

“Do you want to see me bare brother? Do you wish to see and touch my soft skin?” 

“Yes, Aly…yes.” His hands tensed around her hips, and Alysanne moved them again, letting them rest against her rear. Jacaerys immediately groaned, hardening his grip, possibly leaving bruises on her skin.

Alysanne rubbed herself against Jacaerys’ bulge, and because her only piece of clothing was a nightgown, the only thing separating them was his breeches, causing both to moan at the contact. 

The room was getting hotter, with the heavy breathing and sweat that started to glisten in their bodies warming up the atmosphere.

Jacaerys’ eyes were close, and his head empty of thoughts, the mere feeling of his stepsister’s cunt making him dumb.

Alysanne´s hands moved to the straps of her nightgown, pushing them down just enough to show her tits.

“Jacey, open your eyes my love.” She whispered in his ear and the boy followed her request, coming to immediate disbelief, not expecting Alysanne’s bust to be right in front his face.

“Can I?” He asked nervously, not having the courage to express in full words what he wanted to say exactly.

The girl nodded, and carefully, Jace moved his hands touching Alysanne’s tits like they were a fragile piece of glass. She chuckled teasingly as his index fingers made round movements around her nipples.

“You can go harder you know? I’m not a doll.”

Jacaerys, hearing her words, gripped both of her breasts roughly, and as a moan left his stepsister’s mouth, he got even harder, felling like the fabric of his breeches was about to rip.

Alysanne grabbed his hair, pushing his head close to her chest. “Suck them brother.”

He widened his eyes, taking some seconds to fully process her words, and Alysanne, with her lack of patience, pulled his hair harder with her fingers, moving his head forcefully in the direction her tits.

If Jacaerys got uncomfortable with the sudden lack of delicacy of his stepsister, he didn’t show it, as he immediately opened his mouth and sucked on Alysanne’s left breast like a hungry babe.

“Fuck…You are so good Jace. Can´t believe I only discovered you now.” The Targaryen girl opened her mouth in silent moans, never once stopping her hips from moving against her stepbrother’s lap.

Jacaerys felt like his cock was going to explode. Never once in his life he had been this hard.

He had noticed Alysanne’s looks before, always having to look away when the siblings would go for a swim in the beach of Dragonstone, and her shift would stick to her body, giving him a perfect view of her bottom and chest. He was still in disbelief, but the feeling of guilt or treason had vanished from his head since he felt her bare cunt against him.

Alysanne moved Jace’s head again, withdrawing his mouth from her breast, making a thin thread of spit connect to her nipple. His eyebrows raised in a frown, as he didn’t like that he got stopped, until the girl carefully raised her hips, and slowly started to unlace his breaches.

“Are you ready brother?” She questioned and the boy nodded without hesitation, eager to finally feel her pussy fully around him.

Alysanne was pleasantly surprised upon the sight of her stepbrother’s cock. With only a handful of sexual experiences with one of the knights of the Dragonstone, Jacaerys’ manhood was big in length and width. Alysanne debuted her hand could fully close around it.

Before pushing her hips down again, the girl took her nightgown off, throwing it to some corner of the room.

Her cunt was glistening with wetness, making Jacaerys grunt at the sight.

Alysanne pushed one finger inside of her, whining at the feeling, only to pull it out and slowly press her wet and shiny digit to Jace’s lips.

The boy didn’t expect this action, but quickly let the surprise get away and instead allowed the curiosity to take hold of him. Opening his mouth carefully, he licked the wet substance that was touching his lips, being interrupted as Alysanne shoved her wet finger inside in mouth. Just like he did with her nipple, Jacaerys sucked like his life depended on it, loving the sweet taste of his stepsister in his mouth. It was sweater than any dessert he had ever tasted, and more addicting than any wine in the Seven Kingdoms.

The Targaryen girl chuckled amused with this moment, proceeding to leave delicate kisses on his neck.

Taking her finger of Jacaerys’ mouth, Alysanne connected her gaze with his, as she aligned his cock with her cunt, finally sinking down.

Both moaned loudly at the sensation. Alysanne felt full to a point of pain, and Jacaerys felt a tight and warm embrace in his manhood, that it was close enough to make him come.

“Fuck Jacey.” Alysanne pulled their lips together in a lustful and passionate kiss. It was hungry and desperate, both chasing each other’s tongue, not worrying about syncing the movements.

Alysanne started to move her hips, first at a slow pace, wanting to adjust to her stepbrother large cock, but Jacaerys was already impatient and wanted more. Groaning, he took hold of her hips, and pressed her down more on him. Alysanne felt like she could sob from pleasure, and moved her hips faster, making herself and Jace see stars.

“Aly you feel so good.” He moaned breathy, pressing small kisses on her tits.

The bed moved against the stone wall, making a noise that echoed through the room, but not high enough that could silence their sounds of pleasure.

Alysanne, feeling her leg muscles starting to get tired, slowed down a little, and Jace, sensing that, began to move his own hips upwards, thrusting into Alysanne´s pussy without mercy.

The girl’s eyes watered as his cock touched that spot, forcing her to bite into Jacaerys’ shoulder to prevent the scream that was about to leave her mouth from waking their family up.

They exchange gazes, and Jacaerys thought he was seeing an angle, upon the sight of Alysanne´s face. Her silver long hair was a mess, and her cheeks were flustered and red, but what really mesmerised him were her teary violet eyes and swollen lips. If he was meant to go to one of the seven heavens, he was sure they would never be more beautiful than this view.

Seeing his deep stare, Alysanne smiled softly and pressed a small kiss on Jacaerys’ lips.

“I’m close Aly.” He said making a low sound that rattled in his throat.

“Come inside me Jacey. Please brother.” She begged and the boy was quick to nod in agreement, but Alysanne could still see the hesitation in his eyes. She pushed Jace against the mattress, taking command of the pace again, and with all her strength, she rode Jace like the dragonrider she was.

“Gods...” He whispered, one hand on her back and the other on her ass, squeezing it tightly.

Fire burned in Alysanne’s belly, as her climax was also approaching. She moved her hand down, reaching for her cunt and toyed with her clit, wanting to reach the orgasm together with Jace.

Alysanne pressed her forehead with his, the sweat sticking their hair together, and Jacaerys’ brown eyes widen with adoration.

He felt like this was meant to be, Alysanne’s deep violet eyes looking into his and his hands worshiping every piece of her skin. He wasn´t sure if should be thanking the gods for her existence, as in the moment she was a goddess herself.

“Come on brother, let me give you a sweet babe with dark hair.” As this sentence left Alysanne´s mouth, Jacaerys’ was unable to hold it anymore and with a trembling heart, he lifted his large palm, and slapped the girl’s ass forcefully, immediately leaving a red bruise. Alysanne gasped, and finally, together, both reached their release. Alysanne clung to him, coming with a loud cry, and Jacaerys buried his face on her neck, muffling a deep moan into her skin.

Alysanne felt the warm release of her stepbrother filling her, and smiled, allowing her hips to continue moving, wanting to prolong both of their pleasure.

“Fuck...” Jace’s tired voice spoke as he carefully withdrawn her from his lap.

Alysanne moved to his side, putting her head in his chest and looked directly into his eyes.

“Did you enjoy it?” She questioned teasingly.

“What do you think?” The boy laughed and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

The silence that now filled the room was an extreme contrast to the loud atmosphere that was bursting moments before.

Alysanne got what she wanted, and the happiness of being able to accomplish her goal, mixed with the pleasure she had felt, had brought her to a state of bliss.

Jacaerys on the other hand, was now contemplating his future. If his betrothal to Baela wasn´t important some minutes ago, now it was a screaming thought in his head.

When the betrothal was announced, he never for once got sad about it, with Baela being a kind and beautiful girl. But now, after having Alysanne in his arms, he knew that entire years of a marriage with Baela wouldn’t bring him the happiness he felt in a single night with Alysanne.

[myocsfanfictions]

THE WRATH OF FIRE

House of the Dragon Fanfiction

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 6

Three years had passed from Rhaenyra's wedding, but she remembered well all the rage that she had felt. As she remembered the way her father had danced with the future Queen. And they had acted way more than friendly. They had danced close to each other, their mouths almost touching.

Ysilla stormed out of the hall. What she had seen and heard had been truly too much for her to handle. But it was the morning after the wedding that her life took an unexpected turn.

"Jaelan naejot ȳdragon naejot ao." She had said that morning when she saw her father before the Heart Tree, in the Godswood of the Red Keep. (I want to speak to you)

"Konīr iksis daor drīve naejot." Her father answered dismissively. (There is no reason to)

"You do, don't you?" she asked, stepping closer to her father.

"Do I what?" his eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

His eyes were frightening, cold, and cruel. But she didn't want to show it to him. She wanted to know so many things. She wanted to understand. Why did he never love her mother? Why hadn't he ever tried to know Ysilla? Why had he killed the lady Rhea?

But the only thing she found herself saying was, "You do hate me." It was not a question. She knew that it was the truth. But even if she knew, his mocking laughter hurt her anyway. Then he came closer, and she flinched, lowering her eyes when his hand touched her hair—a stand streaked of dark and silver.

"I feel nothing." He simply answered.

She felt cold, and tears ran down her face. He kept looking at her, but there was no sympathy in his eyes, no remorse. He made her cry, and he didn't care, and that made her sob.

Ysilla could not forgive herself even after three years. She could not accept that she had cried in front of her father.

Stop wanting to please him, Ysilla. Her mother had told her so.

Ysilla would have liked to have been stronger like her mother had wanted. But her father's words and eyes had hurt her deeply, and she felt ashamed.

She had been crying when Queen Alicent had found her sitting under the Heart Tree.

"Ysilla?" Her voice forced Ysilla to turn her back so that Alicent could not see her red eyes, and she quickly dried her tears.

"Good morrow, your Grace," Ysilla said, feeling her lips quiver.

Soft steps made their way towards the little girl. "What had happened?" At the question, Ysilla had started to cry. After three years, she could still remember the way Alicent had embraced her. Assuring her that everything would have fallen into place. It was not long after that the Queen had asked the King to let Ysilla become a ward of the King's Landing court. Viserys had agreed without protests. It was most fit for a lady to grow up in a different court, to learn and form alliances. Viserys said that it would have been a good thing for Ysilla to live with the family she had left.

"You are a Targaryen, a part of the family," he had said, "And I'll be happy to have you closer."

The King had asked, and he could not be refused. Ysilla's father had shown little interest in this because when Viserys was asking for his brother's opinion, Daemon didn't even mention the matter. Instead, he asked his brother for permission to wed the lady Laena Velaryon.

Alicent's hands rested on Ysilla's shoulders as her eyes glared at the man. The little girl just lowered her eyes, feeling anger again. He was to be wed to another woman. He had no interest in Ysilla and looked at her with the usual cold stare.

That had been the last time she had seen her father. He had wed Laena Velaryon when Ysilla had gone back to Runestone to gather her things to bring to King's Landing, and then they left. Ysilla had been glad to miss it. She didn't want to see such act. It was insulting to her mother's memory.

At the time, that was what bothered her the most. But after three years, she felt like her father had insulted Ysilla herself as well.

"Rȳbagon, Aegon," She said to the five-year-old boy, who boringly looked at the parchment in front of him. (Listen, Aegon)

"I think it is time to rest, too," the prince said, jumping down from his chair, but Ysilla had to be quick to stop him by the arm.

"Rȳbagon means listen, and you know that," she said, "Don't try to fool me."

Aegon scoffed, "You've promised we would have played!" He complained, "I want to play!"

"And I want to study," Ysilla stubbornly answered. Her cousin didn't seem to like her answer. "I've promised I would have played with you, but we have to study.""

"I know, I know," he rolled his eyes, "Targaryen must speak High Valyrian."

"Precisely," she said with a hint of happiness, "I'm glad you've remembered."

"How can I forget?" He answered, "You talk like my mother."

Aegon was restless and easy to bore. He didn't have the patience to learn; he just wanted to do whatever he pleased. But he seemed to appreciate Ysilla's company, and it was easier to make him respect his duties of the day when Ysilla was around. The Queen had noticed, so Ysilla and Aegon usually studied together.

"I'll gladly take the compliment," Ysilla said, feeling pride in being compared to Alicent. She reminded her of her mother. She could be strict, with a high regard for honor and duty. Ysilla had found that side of the Queen very welcoming, something that she knew in a court so different from Runestone.

King's Landing was overwhelming. Full of people, nobles, and servants. It was busy and noisy. Everyone wore rich fabrics and jewelry. The men were chivalrous, and the women were so graceful. Ysilla had felt like she would have made a fool of herself.

"What's with the face?" The Queen had answered on the fifth day she had arrived in King's Landing.

"Don't you like the dress?"Her uncle, the King, had gifted Ysilla a purple silk gown with silver embroidery as a welcome. Ysilla had seen such a fabric, but she had never worn it. In Runestone, they preferred more comfortable clothes for daily life. Less decorated. And when she had put it on, she felt as if she was not pretty enough for that gown. Her body was too skinny, and her hair too messy and streaked.

"No, your grace, it is beautiful," she was quick to say. But then she lowered her head, "I just feel..."

"Like what, child?" The King had asked with a gentle tone.

"I... feel out of place." She had answered.

At that point, Alicent stepped forward, "It is difficult to move your entire life to another place. I know. I did it, too." Ysilla looked up at the Queen, "But you'll find at home in a short time."

"We are family, Ysilla," added the King, "That's the most important thing."

After three years, Ysilla could say that she felt at home. She lived with her relatives. Her uncle and aunt, her cousins Rhaenyra and Aegon. In Runestone, she had always been alone but not there. And they were her family, too. Ysilla had always thought that to truly feel like she belonged, she had to be with her father. But she had realized that her place was with her family.

Another thing she loved about living in the Red Keep was that the castle was huge, with many hidden passages for her and her younger cousins to explore. There was not a moment of boredom. And they had many books in the library—books that belonged to the Targaryens, and Ysilla loved to get lost in those pages, talking about tradition, history, and House Targaryen.

But the thing she loved the most was the Dragonpit. Ysilla loved to go there and spend time with Dārysyr.

"Alright, how do you say brother and sister?" Ysilla asked, managing to make Aegon sit next to her.

"Annoying," he answered with a laugh. But Ysilla nudged him with a glare.

"Helaena and Aemond are not annoying," she said.

When Ysilla arrived in the capital, Heleana was just one year old. The next year, Aemond was born. They were now four and three.

"So, how do you say brother and sister?" She asked again.

He looked at her, "Lēkia se mandia."

"Syr," she said happily. Then, when she turned, she saw Aegon's eyes observing her hair, like he always did. (Good)

When they had finished studying High Valyrian, it was time for the little princes and princesses to go to the Dragonpit. They did this once a week. They had to get used to dragons so that one day, they could claim one of their own.

"Helena, do you want to sit with me?" Ysilla had asked, walking closer to her cousin. Helaena had a peculiar character. She was sweet and gentle, but she often whispered to herself and seemed to speak in riddles.

"The snake flies on a field of blue," the little girl said, her purple eyes always wide. Ysilla observed her for a moment before she turned to Aegon, who shrugged his shoulders before entering the carriage.

Ysilla shook her head, then turned to smile at Heleana. "It will be fun, come on." Something pulled softly at the fabric of her gown. When she turned, she saw Aemond looking at her quietly.

"Yes, yes," she answered gently, "You're coming as well." The boy's lips turned up in a little smile before he ran inside of the carriage.

Ysilla had learned how to deal with her younger cousins. It was one of her duties to keep an eye on them since she was the oldest. Rhaenyra was a married woman; he could not waste her time running around with children.

After what she had seen at Rhaenyra's wedding, Ysilla had decided to put some distance between her cousin and herself. She did not hate Rhaenyra; she had no part in the death of Ysilla's mother. But she knew she was the reason why her mother had been killed.

It had been difficult to accept that it was impossible to prove that Daemon Targaryen had killed Rhea Royce. And him being the brother of the King, protected him. It was a gruesome accusation to even suggest that a prince would kill his own wife. But Ysilla knew it was true. She understood that her uncle, the King, had decided not to take a deeper look into the situation.

But Ysilla remembered. For now, that was all that mattered.

"How many dragons don't have a dragonrider?" Aemond asked curiously. Ysilla stopped to think for a moment.

"There's Dreamfyre," she said.

"And Sunfyre," Aegon added, smiling proudly when she turned to him.

"Exactly," she answered, returning the smile. Then her eyes moved back to Aemond. "Syrax belongs to Rhaenyra-"

"And Vhagar?" Aemond asked eagerly. But the name of that dragon made Ysilla lower her gaze. Helaena's hand immediately went on hers, squeezing her fingers gently. Ysilla was grateful to her.

"I heard Father say that Lady Laena reclaimed her," Aegon spoke. Ysilla felt rage building inside of her. Her father's new wife had reclaimed the biggest dragon alive. And then they had happily moved to Essos.

After his attempt to take Runestone, which was now held by Ysilla's aunt, Lady Jeyne Royce, he had decided to take his wife across the Narrow See.

And he left me behind.

Ysilla knew she shouldn't have been surprised or hurt by that decision. But she did. And she hates herself for feeling like this.

"But he does whatever you say," Aemond said, his eyes never leaving Ysilla.

"Darysyr is yours, though," Aemond said, getting Ysilla's attention back, "You've reclaimed him."

"An egg had been chosen for me," she answered, "He just hatched."

"That is true," Aegon said from the seats in front of her, "You even make him breathe fire."

"You just have to ride him," Aemond said. He loved talking about dragons and could barely wait to have one of his own.

They were correct, though. She knew that she and Darysyr shared a connection, which had been like that since he was born.

My first friend. She thought fondly.

Thanks to her cousins, she decided to try to ride Darysyr that day if the Maesters agreed. Her dragon was big now—as big as Sunfyre. His dark scales with purple shades shone even in the dark. His wings were large, and after three years, he had learned how to gracefully slide on the ground.

"His body moves like a snake," Aemond said, fascinated. He looked at Darysyr, who was moving closer as he saw Ysilla.

"But are the claws on his wings that help him move." Aegon was right. Darysyr used his front legs to crawl on the ground. He was fascinating and elegant even doing that queer movement which allowed him to move on the ground.

"Ñuha raqiros, iksā sīr gevie," she always said that when she saw her dragon. Her hand would touch the warm scales of his neck, "Jaelan naejot sōvegon tubī." (My friend, you are so beautiful) (I want to fly today)

"Do you?" Aegon asked with wide eyes as his brother's lips turned into a smile.

The old Maester looked at her with a stern face, like he did every time. But she saw something else this time, a different kind of glim in her eyes, that only pushed her to think that she was ready to try and reclaim her Darysyr even in the sky.

"Luck," Helaena whispered quietly behind her as they all moved outside. The Maesters were all around Draysyr, ready to intervene if something unexpected happened.

"Emā naejot udrāzma zirȳla naejot umbagon gīda. Ēza naejot rȳbagon se dohaeragon." The man said as she walked over to Darysyr. He did not like to be controlled by those men. In the years, his gentle nature had become more restless. He glared at them and roared, but he was different from Ysilla. He liked to have her with him. She knew. They were similar. They could feel the same things. (Calm, my friend. You are not only going to serve. We are going to fly together. If you will let me. (You have to command him to remain calm. He has to hear and obey)

I know what I have to do.

Ysilla reached out a hand as she moved to Darysyr. He let her touch him like he had done so many times before, focusing his attention and his purple eyes on her.

"Gīda, ñuha raqiros." She spoke gently, and she immediately heard the Maester telling her to be more firm. But she ignored him. Aemond was right; Darysyr was hers from long before she came to King's Landing. "Iksā daor mērī jāre naejot dohaeragon. Iksi jāre naejot sōvegon hēnkirī. Lo kesā ivestragī nyke." (Calm, my friend. You are not only going to serve. We are going to fly together. If you will let me)

Darysyr's eyes looked deep into hers like he had never done before, and she felt a warm sensation in her chest—the same warmth that she felt every time she touched his scales. And she knew he was letting her in.

Ysilla felt her lips turn up into a smile as she moved to touch the leather belt that had been tied around Darysyr's body. She held on with all her strength as she started to climb up.

"She is doing it," she heard Aegon say.

"Of course she is." Aemond answered.

When Ysilla arrived on the saddle, swinging her leg to each side of her dragon's body, she felt like a Queen. She was so high up compared to the people on the ground. Darysyr moved from under her; she could feel him breathing before he roared and started to move. The claws on his wings gripped the earth of the ground hard, sliding forward powerfully as he made his way towards the cliff.

"Ysilla!" she heard Aegon shout, but she touched Darysyr's scales.

"Soves, Darysyr!" she said to her dragon, who roared one more time before letting himself fall off the cliff. (Fly, Darysyr)

Ysilla's stomach jumped towards her throat as they fell. And she felt the wind hitting her face. Her dark hair, streaked with silver, flew back as the ocean beneath them moved closer and closer. She had no breath in her lungs, not to talk, not to scream. But it was when Darysyr finally opened his black wings that the fall became a flight.

Ysilla's excited cheers echoed in King's Landing as she shouted her dragon's name.

Flying was the most amazing feeling she had ever experienced. It was much better than riding. The ocean beneath her passed quickly as they flew. They were so close to the water that she could see her reflection in it. Then Darysyr flew higher and higher, passing over the streets of King's Landing. The people looked so small from there. Even adults.

On dragonback, she could see everything. The busy streets of the city started from the poorest part and moved to the castle. Huge and red, it towered over everything. But Ysilla was higher than the highest tower. And that feeling was of pure blessing, of completion. She had finally flown on her dragon. She had finally reclaimed Darysyr, and the gift he was giving her was far more precious than anything she could ever have.

She was Ysilla Targaryen, a true member of the House of the Dragon.

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[naerys-arryn]

Daella lives and HotD:

At Naerys's first baby shower:

Rhea: hey your stupid situationship boytoy is really killing my vibes can u please euthanize him

Daemon: Fuck you, Bronze Bitch, and I'm her husband, not a fling!

Naerys: At least they kept it civil long enough for the cake to be cut.

Naerys: You know if you’d dated me I never would’ve gotten pregnant.

Rhea: Don’t blame me for you letting that stick its dick in you.

Daemon: I AM RIGHT HERE!

Rhea: THATS WHY I SAID IT.