#ser criston cole; interactions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writerscurse · 2 years

Text

In the Eye of the Storm | Aemond Targaryen x reader | Chapter 1

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!reader

Word count: 2,577

Summary: You’re visiting King’s Landing with your family to reaffirm your younger brother Lucerys’ birthright as the rightful heir to Driftmark. During your stay, you reconnect with Aemond Targaryen. You had once been friends, but that was long ago. And the man in front of you now, is not the shy kid you used to know. Can you reconcile despite your differences or will the rift between your families break you apart?

Warnings/tags: Incest (it’s the Targaryens), slow burn, fluff, angst, violence, death, smut

A/N: Most of the smut (also most violence and the death of a character) happens towards the end of the story. So if that’s what you’re after and you like the story, please stick around. The first chapter is more of an introduction. Reader and Aemond will interact more further down the line, I promise.

A/N: Reader is Rhaenyra’s daughter. I tried my best not to describe her body, besides the typical Targaryen silver hair and violet eyes. It’s not stated who her father is, so it could be Daemon, Laenor or Harwin, depending on your preference.

All works are my own. Please don’t copy, plagiarize, post on other websites or translate.

The ship was rocking softly beneath you as you looked upon the shores of your home. You were excited to see King’s Landing again. While you enjoyed the peace that came with Dragonstone, you still missed the bustle of the Red Keep. You missed the lively streets, that you had roamed countless times when you snuck out of the castle. You missed training with your brothers and uncles in the courtyard. You even missed the fights a little. That is, because you were never the victim of the constant bullying and insults. Thanks to your long, silver hair and violet eyes, nobody dared to question your legitimacy. You’d proven to be strong and valuable to the realm when you had claimed Vermithor as your dragon at a young age. And with your mother Rhaenyra not paying much attention to traditions, you’d been allowed to practise your sword fighting skills with your siblings all your life. After all, the heir to the Iron Throne should be able to protect herself and the realm.

As the ship docked, you were impatient to climb up the steps to the Red Keep. As you reached the gates, you felt a wave of pure bliss wash over you. This really was your home.

‘Jace! Luke! Come on, let’s explore the Keep!’, you shouted at them and they came running after you while Rhaenyra and Daemon made their way up to your grandfather, King Viserys’ chambers.

Together you walked around the castle, reminiscing about the times you had spent there as young children. Studying your family’s history, learning how to take care of and ride a dragon and sparring with your uncles.

As you headed into the courtyard, you could hear the sounds of swords clashing and felt the cool breeze blowing in your hair.

‘Smaller than I remember’, Luke announced and he and Jace ran off. You stayed back for a moment taking in the scenery from atop the stairs. Knights and guards training their skills, a smith was working on creating new weaponry for the King’s Guard. A few ladies came by, enjoying their afternoon walk.

And that’s when you saw him. His feet swiftly moved as he fought Ser Criston Cole. A crowd had started to form around them, watching their every move. He grew, you thought to yourself. No resemblance to that young, hurt boy from when you still lived here. The boy, so desperate to have his own dragon, to prove himself, to rule even. And you, the firstborn daughter with no interest in any of the power or responsibility that was placed upon you.

You had always gotten along surprisingly well. Both feeling like outsiders that didn’t want the roles that you had to play. But you hated how cruel he was to your younger brothers. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. He elegantly dodged Ser Criston’s attempts to hit him, his hair flowing in the wind with every move. He looked powerful and menacing. And his eyepatch only added to the mystery that seemed to surround him.

You smiled softly as you watched him and walked down the stairs to join the crowd. Luke and Jace were making their way through the folk watching the fight. They seemed intrigued. You figured they probably hadn’t noticed yet who this was. And just when you had caught up to them, standing right behind your brothers, Aemond pointed his sword to Ser Criston’s neck and the crowd applauded. A smirk covered your face, watching him being victorious over the man who had trained you both when you were younger. It was impressive, really. The last time you had tried to fight Ser Criston, you ended up with your head in the dirt.

‘Nephews. Have you come to train?’, his words brought you back to reality.

‘No’, you stated, looking him right in the eye, ‘but I have.’

This was the first time he noticed you. You could feel your heart skip a beat as he glanced at you. His eye glistened with recognition and you could see the faintest smile cover his face. It was barely noticeable, but you knew that deep down, he was excited to see you.

‘Princess Y/N. I could never harm a beautiful lady, such as yourself’, he mused and walked closer to you. You noticed your brothers hurriedly moving out of the way, desperately trying to avoid their uncle. But you were intrigued by him and his actions. You felt his gloved hand taking yours and he bowed slightly before you, bringing your hand up to his lips and leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles.

‘Harm me? I doubt you could, even if you tried’, you laugh. You knew he was stronger than you, and much quicker. Back in Dragonstone, you used to sometimes practise with your brothers, or even with Daemon. But all of that was harmless fun and Aemond’s reputation as a skilled swordsman preceded him.

‘Ser Criston, pass me your sword’, you commanded.

‘My lady, it would be improper…’, he responded, a worried look on his face.

‘You heard the princess. Give her the sword’, Aemond demanded without taking his eye off you.

Reluctantly, the knight stepped closer, passing his sword to you and taking a step back into the crowd. A cocky smirk formed on Aemond’s face as he turned around and walked a few steps ahead of you.

‘You know, princess, you can still…’, was all he managed to say before you elaborately turned, swinging your sword and bringing it down towards his shoulder.

For a mere moment, you could see surprise in your uncle’s eye, but he was quick. His sword found its way to meet yours, the sound of clinking metal engulfing you both. Aemond ducked under your arms, forcing you to turn and dodge his repeated attacks until you managed to spin around and dive out of his way.

You started feeling confident. And that was your mistake. As you charged at him, Aemond effortlessly grabbed your right wrist with his left hand, twisting it in a way that forced you to drop your sword. He then pulled you into him, your back firmly pressed against his chest and his arm wrapped around your waist. He kept holding onto your wrist, making sure to keep you in place before he slowly raised his sword to your neck, a triumphant grin covering his face.

Gently, Aemond leaned down until his lips were right next to your ear.

‘I believe, I win’, he whispered, only for you to hear and goosebumps ran down your spine.

‘Let me go’, you mutter back, frustrated at your loss and at how your body betrayed your stubborn mind.

‘Mmh, I don’t believe so. But perhaps I could be convinced.’

And with that he sheathed his sword and his grip on your wrist loosened, slowly turning you around to face him. Your bodies were inches apart from each other and he kept staring down at you, his eye patch making him more menacing than you could’ve ever imagined.

This was a game, you realised. He was playing with you and he loved every second of it. But you were not having it. So using the best weapon any woman had, you lifted your hands up to his shoulders and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, just below his scar.

You could feel his body tense up and a small gasp exited his lips. He had not expected that. He was caught so off guard, that you could take a step back from him without any resistance.

‘I believe that should be a fair price for my freedom. Don’t you think so, my prince?’, you innocently batted your eyes at him.

He hummed slightly before looking around and becoming aware of the fact that all eyes were on you both.

‘Don’t you have anything better to do? Go. Leave us’, he growled and the crowd immediately dispersed, not wanting to anger their prince any more. You turned and saw your brothers walking away with the rest of the noblemen, giving you a worried look. You smiled, briefly letting them know that you would be okay.

And then you were all alone in the, otherwise so lively, courtyard.

‘It is good to see you again, Y/N’, Aemond leisurely stated. His demeanour had changed, now that you were alone. There was a warmth in his eye that not many people ever got to see. You were transported back to your childhood right away.

He was a small kid back then. Shy and easily scared. Aegon and your brothers would often mock him for this. But you had shown him kindness that he never fully understood. You had scolded your brothers and wacked Aegon over the head when they pulled that nasty prank with the pig. You had sat by his side after he lost his eye, holding his hand all night.

But then your ways parted. For years to come, you did not see each other or even speak. Having him stand in front of you felt like you were finally whole again. You were home.

Without wasting another word, you closed the gap between you two and wrapped your arms around his waist. He hesitated for a second, not fully processing what was happening before melting into your embrace and resting his arms on the small of your back.

‘I have missed you, Aemond’, you whispered and felt him resting his head on yours, a content hum escaping his lips.

But it didn’t take long for life to slowly return to the courtyard. Aemond might be the prince, but the servants still had jobs to do and needed the courtyard on their way in and out of the Red Keep. As the first people came walking by, you felt him tense up in your arms. He finally let go of you, taking a step back but motioning for you to come and follow him.

You strolled through the halls of the castle for a while, keeping distance between you as anything else would be considered improper. You noticed that Aemond was awfully quiet, his demeanour was cold, his jaw clenched. So you tried to break the silence between you.

‘You’ve grown rather skilled with the sword, my prince’, you looked up at him, trying to keep formalities in place, in case someone crossed your path.

‘Rather skilled’, he mocks you, sounding amused. ‘I could have killed you mere minutes ago’, Aemond declared, not bothering to look at you.

You sighed, ‘Aemond, you don’t have to act like this around me, you know?’

A flash of something dark appeared in his eye and he turned to you, his voice low. ‘Act like this?’, he spat, anger taking over as he pushed you into the wall. His arm across your chest and the weight of his body pressed against yours, keeping you firmly in place.

‘This is who I am’, he growled, ‘This is who I became after that bastard brother of yours took out my eye. After years of threats and insults. After you had left me. Nobody dares to cross me these days. They’re too afraid of Aemond One-Eye.’

His breathing was heavy and his eye filled with fury as he stared down at you. But you noticed something else. Deep down under all this anger, there was pain. You could see it in the way he looked at you. He was hurting and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him. But he was stronger than you.

‘I am not scared of you’, you said patiently, hoping he would understand the full meaning behind your words.

A frustrated groan escaped his lips and he pushed himself off you, walking a few steps back. He was pacing through the corridor, annoyed with whatever was going on inside him, as you both heard footsteps approaching you.

‘My prince. Princess’, the knight bowed, ‘you’re both expected in the throne room. Petitions are already being heard.’

The man looked out of breath and Aemond let out a tired sigh.

‘Thank you, my lord. We’re on our way’, he told the guard and you both began moving right away.

While you hurried towards the throne room, you glanced at Aemond whenever you could. He was frustrated, but tried not to show it. His face was still frozen and he avoided even acknowledging your presence next to him at all. All closeness that you once shared had vanished as you both rushed down the long corridors.

Then finally, you had reached the great hall. Two guards pushed the doors open and you both stepped inside, side by side. It seemed that all hell had broken loose as soon as you entered the scene.

You could just about see Daemon pull out his sword and step up behind Vaemond who was shouting about your brothers being bastards. And then within the blink of an eye, he fell to the ground.

You let out a small shriek, as you watched Daemon behead him and immediately felt Aemond’s hand behind your back, pulling you into his chest and away from the scene. You were grateful for him protecting you from the sight, but started blushing at the sudden closeness to him. His fingers were buried in your hair and he kept you steadily in place. You noticed the faint scent of sandalwood and hints of patchouli engulfing you and couldn’t help but let out a content hum. Clearly, you weren’t very good at hiding it. He chuckled lightly when he noticed what you were doing. It was a rough sound, almost as if he hadn’t used it in years. And it had caught the attention of your families. All eyes were on you now.

Then with a swift move, he let you go and moved towards his mother and siblings.

‘I apologise for being late, mother. I escorted Princess Y/N on a walk through the castle’, he announced while moving towards Alicent with confident strides.

You could feel both your mother and the queen stare at you as you straightened your dress and slowly walked up to the throne. You stopped just behind Vaemond’s lifeless body and awkwardly curtsied before King Viserys, doing your best to ignore the gruesome sight in front of you.

After paying your respect to the king, you joined your family, standing behind your brothers, who were still both a little shorter than you. You could feel your mother’s eyes burning into your skin, but you decided it was best to ignore her for now and avoid any further attention.

Once everyone had settled down again, you continued to listen to the king reaffirming Lucerys as the rightful heir to Driftmark and watched him declare that the family shall dine together tonight.

Both your brothers tensed up at the news that they would have to spend their evening alongside the people who had insulted them their entire lives. You, on the other hand, felt a wave of excitement at the prospect of spending the whole evening with Aemond and glanced in his direction. His demeanour was still frozen when he followed his mother leaving the room, but you caught him throwing a brief glance at you as they walked past.

Not all hope was lost then, you thought to yourself. You were convinced that somewhere behind this arrogant shell, the kind boy you grew up with was still there.

Go to Chapter 2.

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x female reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fic #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #ewan mitchell #hotd fanfic

812 notes · View notes

fayeriess · 5 months

Text

SER CRISTON COLE BRAINROT !

MDNI ! slight breeding kink.

jealous!ser criston does not like seeing you with other men. in fact, the mere thought of it has his fingers flexing — paling in color.

jealous!ser criston finds it immensely difficult to stay cemented to his position near your seat at the table, during nights of celebration where you’d be in the arms of another.

jealous!ser criston cannot and willnot let anyone stand too close to you if he deems them a threat. he claims that as your protector he has to be on guard, even if you both know that’s the highest of excuses.

jealous!ser criston gives you tight lipped smiles to suppress his mild annoyance ( and slight hopelessness ) at your public display of affection for others, forever wishing he could show every single lord and lady of the realms that you were his and he was yours.

jealous!ser criston never knew he could harbor such rage each time his jaw grows taut, chest tightening.

jealous!ser criston knows that interact and dally around as you may, he’d always be the one to warm your chambers when the moon cascaded over the hills and your sheets grew cold.

jealous!ser criston always wants to strip you bare. he enjoys the hitch in your breathing as his hands ghost over your skin as he takes his time to unlace each and every layer of fabric covering your form.

jealous!ser criston loves to mark you, especially on your stomach, your inner thighs — anywhere he can really. even-more-so when your quiet moans echo throughout your chamber.

jealous!ser criston likes to remind you who you belong to. not that you could ever forget, but hearing you say it aloud, between sobs of pleasure just makes his cock harden within his breaches.

jealous!ser criston takes his time with you. he adores the way you sigh when he hits that certain spot within you, the way his hands grip your hip bones to thrust further into you.

jealous!ser criston claims that if he could, he’d fill you with his seed, as it’d be a great joy to watch your belly swell with his child, to watch you raise a babe with a head full of dark curls.

and in truth, it’s something you too imagine when your eyes would wander to him, every single time without fail.

#ser criston cole #ser criston #ser criston x reader #ser criston x you #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #ser criston smut #ser criston drabble #ser criston headcanons #hotd imagine

63 notes · View notes

starogeorgina · 7 months

Text

Broken bonds

Paring: Ser Harwin Strong/reader

Warnings: Swearing, child birth

Notes: Like most of my stories, this was written during/after a nightshift, so I apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Thanks to everyone who's kept up with broken bonds so far; I'm so excited for the next part, which catches up with the show!

2.07

The sound of metal clanging together echoes throughout the yard as knights train. You watch proudly as your husband wins each training match without another knight's sword even scraping his armorer.

“The young ones are very taken with Ser Harwin,” your father chuckles watching as Vaegon watches the training mesmerized.

You smile at your father and squeeze his hand, which was covered by a leather glove. Whatever infection your father had spread to the bones in his hand, causing him to become seriously ill, to the point he almost died, but a maester chosen by Rhaenyra managed to save your father's life by cutting off two of his fingers to stop the rot from spreading. Aerion sat on the opposite side of you, his head resting against your side. He had become a lot more clingy recently; you just put it down to his age and the slight jealousy of the new baby coming. You smooth Aerion’s hair, feeling content not only watching Harwin continue to win but also the interactions between your sons and their grandsire.

You focus back on the training yard and notice Harwin looking behind you with a darkness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. You look over your shoulder to see Criston Cole standing smugly. Aegon had let slip that the knight had called yours and Rhaenyra’s sons bastard in front of himself, Aemond, and Helaena. Something that infuriated Harwin more than yourself

Each time you returned to the keep, it became more and more toxic.

—

You try your best to focus on your sons, who were staring up at you curiously, and not on the pain developing in your lower stomach. Vaegon had been excitedly telling you that his dragon, Nightmare, now had silver appearing underneath their black scales when you first felt the pains begin.

“Is that so?” You say this, forcing a smile.

You had sent your lady-in-waiting to look for Harwin some time ago; he had gone to greet his sister Cassandra, who had come to stay before traveling to Dragonstone on boat with her brother and your sons. However, it seemed that they may miss the birth, as you suspected your labor was due to start shortly. You were supposed to be leaving in the morrow to Dragonstone, but you couldn’t wait any longer; as soon as your husband arrived, you’d need to leave. Just as you consider sending the knight standing guard in the hallway outside your quarters to go find Rhaenyra, Harwin bursts through the door.

“Vaella!” He rushes to your side and asks, “Is the baby coming? Should I send for the maester?”

“Maester?” You chuckle, placing your hands on the lower back. “The maester and midwives who will be delivering this baby are already on Dragonstone. We need to go to them now.”

“My love, we cannot possibly travel whil-”

“Do as you wish, husband, but I am going to the dragonpit. This baby will not be born here.” You place the palm of your hand against the wall to help keep your balance as the pain intensifies, making sure to smile at your sons so they don’t become scared of seeing you in pain. You let out a deep puff of air. “You can either fly on dragon back with me or go by boat with the boys.”

Frustrated by your stubbornness, Harwin calls his sister, who you hadn’t even heard come in. “Cassandra, look after the boys. I need to let Princess Rhaenyra know we are leaving immediately. She will take care of getting you and the boys to Dragonstone.”

—

As you walk along Harwin’s side, he takes a peek at you from the corner of his eye. You lick at your lips and say, “I know what you’re thinking, and absolutely not.”

You were being more than stubborn now; you were being outright difficult because you’d lost your sense of reason, but you knew Harwin would reach a point where he’d no longer listen to you. After a few moments, Harwin puts a comforting hand on your arm, stopping you from walking any further, and you turn to look up at him. He gives you a small shake of his head and says, “I can’t watch you suffer.”

From the moment Varos arrived on the island, Harwin insisted he carry you since the shooting pains in your stomach were getting closer together, but you refused. “We aren’t much further, plus I’m far too heavy.”

Despite your protests, he picks you up in bridal style and carries you the short distance to the castle. Harwin was the strongest man you knew, but you were still afraid the weight of you would be on too much for him, but you are proven wrong when he didn't even break a sweat by the time you reached the castle entrance.

—

“I can't do it!” Your voice trembles as you’re overwhelmed with pain.

You clutch the blood-stained material of the nightgown you’d changed into so tight that your knuckles turn white. Your contractions had lasted nearly a full day before you dilated far enough for the midwives to announce you were fully in labor. The only positive from your labor being dragged out was that the rest of your family had arrived on time.

“It won’t be long now,” Rhaenyra says, “and this will be over soon.”

Rhaenyra sits by your side, holding your hand as Cassandra dabs at your forehead with a damp rag. Exhaustion had almost overtaken you on several occasions, but your sister and sister-in-law had been the strength that you needed. Your husband had been long sent out of the room. The moment Harwin noticed the blood running down your legs, he started to sway on his feet, and not needing the distraction of panic from him passing out, the midwife in charge ordered him to wait in the next room.

“One more big push.”

You feel as if all the air is sucked from your lungs as you scream louder than you ever have before, bringing your new baby into the world. All the pain you’d suffered was worth it the moment your screaming newborn was placed in your arms.

“It’s a girl princess,” the midwife says before waving to someone to fetch more towels.

Tears of happiness spring to your eyes. “Healthy?”

“Healthy as a horse princess.”

“You’ve no idea how happy I am to meet you, my precious girl.” Smiling, you kiss her on the nose. “Can someone tell Harwin the baby is okay? But please don’t tell him it’s a girl.”

Cassandra places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll go get my brother.”

Rhaenyra kisses the side of your head, “I’m so proud of you. She’s so beautiful.”

“Thank you." More tears fall from your eyes. “I promised Vaegon and Aerion that they could pick a dragon egg once the baby was born. Could you take them?”

“Of course,” she says, kissing you one last time on the cheek before leaving to get your sons.

Just like her brothers, your daughter had thick, dark hair. You accept a wet cloth from the midwife and gently start to clean her face. It doesn’t take long for the afterbirth to pass, and shortly after Harwin comes into the room,

“My beautiful, strong-willed wife,” he says with the widest smile on his face. “May I?”

You nod and gently hand her over to him. “It’s a girl.”

His face lights up. “A girl, our baby girl.”

Your lady-in-waiting uses the opportunity to fuse over you, fluffing up the pillows at your back to help keep you up right. She reminds you to rest and drink plenty of fluids over the next few days. You thank her and insist she finishes for the night.

You reach for his free hand and link your fingers with his. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn.”

“It’s one of the many things I love about you.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Have you decided a name from the ones we picked out?”

“No, I think you should pick it. It’s only fair since I picked the boys names.”

Harwin lets go of your hand and sits down on the bed beside you, his free hand now wrapped around your waist, while the other holds your daughter carefully. “Ada,” he says, “Ada Strong.”

—

Laying in your bed, you cradle your newborn gently, breastfeeding her with a smile on your face. Across the room, Harwin is slouched in one of the chairs with Vaegon and Aerion on either side of him. Your sons had picked out the perfect pink egg to place in the cradle with their sister, but they had both fallen asleep long before they got the chance to actually meet her.

Just as your daughter stops feeding, the door to the room opens and Rhaenyra steps in, doing her best to remain quiet. “I heard my niece has a name now,” she whispers. “Ada, I believe?”

“Harwin chose it.”

She pulls up a chair and sits beside it, watching as your daughter closes her eyes. Once she’s asleep, you put her in the crib, which is a short distance from your side of the bed.

When you turn back around, you see that your sister's eyes have glossed over. “Rhaenyra, what is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong; I’ve just been thinking that you should stay here.”

“What?”

She tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and says, "You belong here with your family.”

“But Dragonstone belongs to you, Rhaenyra,” you point out. “Besides, you are my family. I don’t want to be apart from you, Jace, and Luke.”

“I can’t change my own fate, but I can change yours. I wish for you to stay here. I don’t want the greens digging their claws into your sons and dripping poison into their ears. You’ve always wanted to live here.”

“Rhaenyra,” you say sternly, but quickly lower your voice when you notice Harwin stirring. “I’m not going to leave you on your own in court, not again.”

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Rhaenyra wipes your tears away with her thumb. Softly, she says, “I’m the elder; it’s me who should be looking out for you.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“Very well, as heir to the throne, and your future queen, I commanded it. I command that you stay on this island with your husband and children. Dragonstone has always been your home, Vaella,” she presses her forehead against yours. “We will only be one short dragon ride away from each other.”

“I will miss you.”

“We could see each other every day if we wished. I just want to know that at night you’re safe and away from all the badness at court. I’m doing this because I love you.”

“Will you stay here with us for a while longer? I don’t want you going home just yet.”

She nods. When Rhaenyra hugs you, tears fall freely from your eyes, but not because you are sad. Raising your family on Dragonstone was a dream come true, minus being apart from your sister. Of course you’d miss seeing your father and Aegon everyday, you imagined you’d fly back to the keep every couple of days to see them. But for the first time in years, you felt your mothers presence, you felt her in the warmth of your sister.

#house of the dragon #ser harwin strong fanfiction #ser harwin strong x you #ser harwin strong fanfic #Ser Harwin Strong #ser harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #Ser Harwin Strong/reader #Ser Harwin Strong/you #Harwin Strong #broken bonds #harwin strong x you #harwin strong fanfic #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong/reader #harwin strong/you

89 notes · View notes

thesithdiaries · 2 years

Text

White Knight (Harwin Strong imagine)

Pairing: Harwin Strong x female!reader

Requested; yes

Warnings: angst, cursing, who did this to you trope, mentioned of death, mention of having sex while drunk, injury, assault, a manchild and its not criston cole, typical westeros violence, harwin going apeshit

Y/N Waters was a bastard from King’s Landing. According to her mother, who worked at an alehouse, her father was a lord. Of course, they both sank into their cups the night they spent together, causing them to not remember each other. Y/N’s mother passed away years prior from an illness.

Y/N met Harwin Strong during the night while she walked home. The tavern she worked at was not far from where she lived.

“Excuse me, my lady, you dropped this,” he called behind her, making Y/N turn around. Harwin was holding up a shawl. It must have fallen from the basket she was carrying.

“Thank you, Ser,” Y/N replied in gratitude. Harwin neatly folded it for her before placing it in the blanket. He flashed a gentle smile at her surprised expression.

After that small interaction, the two of them could not stop thinking about each other. It was a strong yet strange feeling of longing that they could not explain. For this, Harwin changed routes for the men of the City Watch and made sure to get the area he saw her in.

Little by little, they started learning about each other. Harwin would wait outside the tavern she worked in to escort her home. He said the streets were not safe at night, which was true, but he also wanted to spend time with her.

After secretly courting for two moons, Harwin decided to tell his father and the king about what he wanted to do.

“Ser Harwin Strong,” Ser Harrold announced as he opened the door to King Viserys’ chambers. Harwin made his way in, not missing the expression of confusion on his father's face.

“Ah, Ser Harwin,” Viserys greeted him with glee. “What can I help you with?”

“I would like to resign as Commander of the City Watch.” Both Lyonel and Viserys stared at him with wide eyes.

“What?” The Hand of the King gasped. “Son, why would you do such a thing?”

Harwin cleared his throat before confessing. “I met a woman and I want to marry her.”

“A woman?” Viserys asked with curiosity. Lyonel’s face had gone red, it looked like he was about to explode. “Where?”

“In the city, I met her a couple of moons ago,” Harwin smiled.

“I can relieve you from your duties,” Viserys told him, “are you completely sure about this?”

“Yes, your Grace, I have no doubts about my decision.”

Mere hours later, Lord Lyonel had cornered his son in a secluded part of the castle. He was furious.

“You are bringing shame to our house,” Lyonel hissed.

“It would be more shameful to wed while still being part of the City Watch,” Harwin scoffed. “I will wed her, with or without your blessing.”

“You will not be able to stay in King’s Landing after what you have done,” Lyonel reminded him.

Harwin shrugged. “Then I will return to Harrenhal with my wife.” Lyonel stared at him, mouth agape. “We will talk later, I have to go find my betrothed.”

By the next moon, Harwin and Y/N were married and moved to Harrenhal.

The servants and workers were delighted for them to be there. They were glad Harwin had returned and brought his wife as well.

After touring the grounds, they decided on what to do to make the castle better. Y/N, who was taught to read by a dear neighbor, had read some stories about Harrenhal. She remembered the curse, but pushed the thought to the back of her mind, not wanting to scare herself.

“My love,” Harwin called for her while entering their quarters.

“Yes?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her close to his body. “I have to be in the Flowstone Yard today, overlooking the training.”

“Oh,” Y/N pouted. “I was hoping we could spend the day together.”

Harwin frowned, now feeling guilty about leaving her alone. “I’m sorry. I wanted to spend the day with you as well but I cannot ignore my duties today.”

Y/N rested her head on his chest. “I understand,” she replied with a deep sigh.

They stood in silence, holding each other. It felt different, hugging Harwin without his armor. She could feel his warmth now and it made her happy. “I love you, Y/N.”

“And I love you,” Y/N replied.

While Harwin was busy with training, Y/N took the time to walk around Harrenhal by herself. She needed to learn about the place alone, to memorize where everything is.

The five towers still took her breath away. Seeing them melted by dragon fire gave her chills, she could not begin to imagine how terrifying it must have been to witness. Harwin had told Y/N about the state of the castle before they departed from King’s Landing.

“Who are you?” A voice questioned behind her, making Y/N flinch.

She replied with her name after turning around. It was a squire. He gave her a confused look.

“You are not Lady Strong,” he berated. “She would never dress in filthy rags like you and I do not think she would walk these grounds alone.”

Y/N pursed her lips, glancing down at the gown she wore. It was simple and pretty, she did not care for luxuries. Who did she have to impress? “I am Lady Strong. My husband is training all the squires now, why are you here? You are supposed to be in the yard.”

The man made a face. “Stop lying.”

“Lying about what?” Y/N chuckled. “About my husband? Ser Harwin Strong? If he knew-

In the blink of an eye, the man had her against the wall. The overwhelming smell of sweat, dirt, and burning stone made her head spin. The squire did not hesitate in punching her face. “You are a liar.” Y/N held back a sob as she felt the excruciating and immediate pain emitting from her cheek. “Leave Harrenhal and never come back. You are no Lady Strong.”

He left. Y/N, despite being in pain, was baffled at what just happened. She thought everyone that lived in Harrenhal greeted them during their arrival. This was unexpected and unfortunate but Harwin could not know. He would kill that squire.

“Y/N?”

Harwin looked around their chambers with a puzzled expression. Y/N was not there. He doubted she was outside of the castle. It was very late. She could probably be in the kitchens. Y/N liked talking to the cooks and the maids, often swapping stories and getting to know them better.

He took a much-needed hot bath, his muscles were sore from the busy day. Harwin waited for Y/N to arrive but she did not. After his bath, he settled in bed, still waiting for her. Harwin fell asleep before seeing her.

Y/N entered the quarters no more than half an hour later, glad that Harwin was already sleeping. She had gone to see Melia, her new maid, asking for help with the pain. It took heavy convincing for her not to get either Harwin or the maester. Y/N reassured her multiple times that it was alright but Melia did not believe her word. After quickly bathing and changing into a shift, Y/N slipped into bed, trying not to wake up Harwin.

The following morning, when Harwin woke up, Y/N was gone. Her side of the bed still felt a bit warm, meaning it has not been so long since she was awake. He was still very confused. They did not go so long without seeing each other, not even when he was still Commander.

During the day, he would see her from afar. He'd call out for her but Y/N would walk the other way. Oh, she was avoiding me. Harwin ignored his duties, wanting to know exactly what was going on with his wife.

Harwin lurked around Harrenhal, stalking her every move until he finally managed to get her.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, gently grabbing her elbow. “My love, are you alright?”

“Harwin,” she gasped. “Yes, everything is alright. I have been so busy.”

His eyebrows furrowed, why wasn't she looking at him? Y/N’s head was turned, she was glancing at something in the distance. “Look at me.”

Yet she did not. “I have to go find Melia, she must be very worried.”

“No, I am worried,” he replied with annoyance. Harwin grabbed her chin and turned her face so she would look at him. He felt that his soul left his body when he spotted a rather nasty bruise on her right cheek. “What is that?”

“Oh,” Y/N laughed nervously. “I tripped going up the tower, the stairs need to be fixed.”

“Y/N, who did this?” Harwin questioned, the anger bubbling inside him.

“I just told you?” She replied with confusion.

“Y/N, who did this to you?” He repeated in a harsher tone, making her flinch.

“A squire,” she whispered in confession. Harwin immediately let go of her, turning around to head to the training yard. “Harwin! Wait!”

He did not wait. Harwin charged through the halls like a madman. People would move out of his way, afraid to face his wrath. Y/N kept trailing behind him, failing to get his attention. All the men-at-arms and squires stopped training when they spotted Harwin. “All of you, stand in a line, right now.”

The men quickly formed a line without uttering a word. Y/N finally reached her husband. “My love, there is no need for this.”

“Who did it?” He ignored her pleas. After seconds of not answering, Harwin asked again. “Who fucking did it?”

“Him,” Y/N confessed, pointing at the squire. The man went pale, opening his mouth to defend himself yet nothing came out.

He was knocked to the floor instantly, Harwin jumping straight on him, punching him, getting in every hit that he could. Each punch was leaving his face redder and redder, each hit as powerful as the last. He was beating the shit out of the squire with every ounce of strength he had.

“Harwin, that is enough.”

Harwin continued attacking as if he hadn't heard her, his punches coming thick and fast, his mouth constantly mumbling to the squire about his anger over Y/N, his wife and Lady of Harrenhal, being hurt.

Y/N shot a look at the other knights, motioning them to get involved. Four of them quickly moved forward, pulling Harwin off the squire. “Tend to him and call the maester,” she told yet another squire, who nodded his head.

Harwin grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her away from the spectators. The yard was silent, apart from the squire’s groans of pain. Everyone was shocked because of what happened but not surprised by Harwin’s reaction. It was no secret that he had a short fuse. He took her back to their quarters in silence.

“Harwin?” Y/N whispered, giving his hand a soft squeeze. “Talk to me.”

“Is that why you were avoiding me?” He questioned, eyes slowly filling with tears.

Y/N lowered her head in shame. “I did not want to cause any problems, we just got here.”

“Y/N, my love, we are married. We are supposed to tell each other these types of things,” Harwin used his hand to lift her face. “You are my wife and I must protect you from harm.”

“I know,” Y/N sighed. “I am sorry for not telling you.”

“And I am sorry for my reaction… and for beating that man up.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and laughed, “you are not sorry about that.”

Harwin chuckled, she was right, he was not sorry at all. He leaned down to softly peck her bruised cheek, before actually kissing her.

Taglist:

@my-dark-prince / @Daemonloversblog / @littlemoonash / @mypatrochilles / @beefbaby25 / @sweetybuzz2 / @Fin-never / @asexualaromosafezone / @nerdy4itall / @yelchinweasleylothbrok / @Juless_world / @thatgaytevinter / @kaitieskidmore1 / @chevelledahuman / @rozendiors / @claudiajacobs / @savagemickey03 / @multifandom-loser / @direluvr / @dandycandy75 / @bitchyglitterfox / @rumandtearsflowerisevil / @dkathl / @holysmokesblog / @derzauberermitlilabademantel / @daydreamin1220 / @redpool / @bxdbxtxh15 / @vinceelsner / @watersofmars / @popsycles / @holysmokesblog / @madelineannmolder / @poisxnedmind / @lilithArtAndStuff / @mostclevermiss

#hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #harwin strong imagine #harwin strong x reader

445 notes · View notes

misguidedasgardian · 2 years

Text

The White Dragon (5)

5. Forced Landing

MASTERLIST

Summary: You arrival puts everything in place

Pairings: Harwin Strong x Fem!Targaryen reader

Warnings: cursing, medieval and A song of ice and Fire AU customs, alcohol consumption, a pregnant women drinking wine 😂 Here is mentioned that reader got a tan 😂this chapter is pretty tamed, might miss some warnings

+ 18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4.0k

Notes: I am so grateful to all of you who follow this story ❤️ love you all and I love the interactions even if I don’t respond sometimes ❤️. Come on take it easy on Harwin 😂❤️

When you began to recover your bearings, you felt like you were trapped inside something. You were certain you had your eyes opened, but still you couldn’t see anything. but you were moving, not your limbs, but your entire body registered the movement, it was such a strange feeling. But then it stopped. The recognizable sound of something made of wood placed on the ground made you think that you were inside some sort of cradle.

“What are you doing here Daemon?” even trapped in something you could hear your father’s voice clear as day

“I have a gift for you brother, don’t tell me I never do anything for you” you could almost see the shit eating grin in your uncle’s face, “I was told you were missing one of your greatest dragons”

Suddenly the lid of the box was opened, light suddenly hitting your face so hard it made you whine. You were still a little disoriented, but you recognized where you were immediately. He took you back to King’s Landing, more exactly, you were in the throne room. You heard gasps and murmurs because you found yourself in front of the court of the Red Keep, the Queen, Ser Criston Cole, and other members of your family were looking at you

“Daughter!” called your father

And there you were, wearing a tunic as a short dress, of your favorite color, in the most new Astapor fashion, but you made it your own with leather pants underneath, and boots both in a light beige. Your hair had been tied out of your face with simple braids, (the ones you could braid without help), and your skin presented a tan that wasn’t there before.

“My King” you greeted, still getting your bearings, “Your grace” you looked at your uncle in anger, but then back at your father

“Everyone out” he demanded

“But my love” started Alicent clearly not wanting to miss the reunion

“EVERYONE OUT!” your father screamed, the room was cleared in seconds, even the kingsguard left, leaving you with Daemon, and your father. HIs yes were set on you, and you were looking down at the floor in front of him, because you knew that for him, you had to beg for his forgiveness

“We thought you were dead!” he claimed, “where have you been?”

“In the free cities” you whispered, but the acoustic of the throne room make him hear you just well

“You abandoned your home, you abandoned your family, your husband, AND YOUR KING!” You thought that he had never been this angry, at least, not towards you

“I’m sorry father”

“You put The Strong house to shame, flying from your Lord Husband” he continued, his anger clearly dwindling by the second

“I was angry” you muttered

“You are acting like a spoiled child!” he said firmly

“Brother…” muttered Daemon

“Shut your mouth!” he demanded, “You had instructions to bring her here 4 months ago” he muttered, and you looked at your uncle with a frown

“I brought her here as soon as she came to me” he responded

“They talk like I’m not even here!” you reasoned

“YOU DIDN’T TOLD US WHERE YOU WERE GOING!” you father exploded again, “you are going to make public apologies to your husband, and to Ser Lyonel, the head of your house” he continued, “You are going to take penitence, two fortnights without leaving the castle, not even the fucking gardens, and you are going to give me your word that you will never do this again, you hear me?”

“Yes father”, you weren’t looking forward to begging for forgiveness, and especially towards your father in law. Lyonel Strong had always inspired respect, he was, as his family name would entail… strong, strong-minded, and with a strong presence whenever he stood. He was a man that inspired respect

You certainly weren’t looking forward to looking him in the eyes and asking for forgiveness for abandoning his son.

But you had to ask for your father’s forgiveness first

“I give you my word father, that I won’t abandon my family, ever again”, you said solemnly, “not without warning, at least” Daemon giggled

“Go plead your forgiveness” he muttered, “And I will see you at the hour of the owl for supper”

No hugs, no warm welcome, but you expected as much, you did ran away and told no one about it, and they might have thought you were dead

You exited the throne room, and you felt your uncle following close behind, so you entered the first room you had at hand. It was a small meeting room, you guessed for private audiences, and then you turned to Daemon who had followed you in.

“You drugged me!” you screamed

“I drugged you” he admitted,

“You kidnapped me! you brought me home!”

“I brought you home” he sentenced

“You betrayed me too” you accused, “You traitor! bastard!”, you continued into spitting out every insult of the book you could think off, but the shy smile in your uncle’s face didn’t dwindle

“You are with child!” he muttered, his gaze lowered to the floor, “you have to be with your family, with your husband”

“Fuck my husband” you growled

“What about your family?” now you lowered your gaze, but your uncle placed two fingers under your chin and made you lift your face towards him

“You told me you could take me to release this anger… this fire I have inside of me, you said we could become mercenaries, and never come back, to drown in coin and wine, see lands no man has ever seen before…”

“I know what I said”. He said firmly, putting an end to your child-like accusations, “But I also said this, that a Targaryen, alone and betrayed in the world is a terrible thing, you cannot be left alone in the darkness…” you eyed him, still angry, “I know you must hate me right now, but in time you’ll see… that it doesn’t end well with Targaryens that believes themselves to be closer to gods than to men”

“I never believed myself to be closer to gods…”

“You said you were alone, you are with your family now, with your father…”

“But…” he interrupted you, putting his hand on your shoulder

“I tried to speak to Rhaenyra, but she won’t listen, I know you will, you are smarter, calmer than her…” you nodded, asking him to continue, “you need to stay by your father’s side, you can’t leave him alone with those green vipers, do you understand?” you nodded, slowly, “you need to accompany him, your father is sick, and nobody wants to see that”

“Why don’t you?” you asked then

“He doesn’t want me here… but you? He would burn the rest of the world to the ground if it means you’ll come back to him”, he said quietly, “make amends, rebuild bridges, and stay by your father’s side, you hear me?”, you nodded, barely.

“How about you?” you asked

“What about me?”

“Will you mend your own bridges?” you asked

“Yes” he muttered, and then he left the room, probably to find his other niece.

You waited inside the small room for a few moments, gathering the strength to face everyone else. You had to pick the order of the people you were going to see next very carefully. But as you exited the room, that decision was made for you.

Ser Steffon was waiting for you, his hands behind his back, and a easy smile on his lips

“Steffon!” you called, happy to see him. Truly happy to see your one true friend

“Princess” he answered, with an easy smile. You wanted to hug him, but it wasn’t proper, but as you saw both ways of the hallway, and there was no one there, you surrounded his neck with your arms. you felt his hand cradling the small of your back in greeting, and then you released him

“I’m sorry” you apologized, “I’m very sorry for leaving and not telling you”

“Well, I’m happy to say that if I was there the morning you left, you would have failed in doing so” he chuckled

“That is probably true” you muttered, you both started walking back to your rooms

“What happened while I was away?” you asked

“Well, it was a shitshow when we realized you were gone, and the days after was excruciating, because we didn’t know if you planned on coming back or something had happened to you”

“I’m so sorry Steffon”

“You father was mad with sadness, so much so they brought in Otto hightower who moved his net of spies, and when we knew you were alive, we also knew you were in Essos, roaming around the free cities” he told you

“Are you mad at me?” you asked him

“I’m mad that you didn’t take me” he said jokingly, but you knew there was a sadness in his tones and in his eyes that weren’t there before.

“Does anyone else hate me?” you asked

“Nobody could ever hate you” he said back… but there was an awkward silence, “we were all worried for your safety”

“And what about my husband?” you whispered

“He spent every day since you left in the wall of the Keep, looking east” he said gently. You stopped to look at him

“Does he hate me?” you asked

“No” he answered, “he doesn’t hate you, if anything he feels terribly guilty, he has been sleeping in his old quarters, and keeping to himself mostly”

“I made everyone miserable” you muttered back

“Only those who deserved it” he chuckled, “If anything… I knew you were fine”

“Of course you did,” you giggled, “And how is my sister?”

“She is fine” your father whispered, “she is attending more small council meetings, the prince is quite cute, and calm”

“I’m glad to hear it”

“She has missed you too” he muttered

“Well, I’m here now, and apparently, I’m grounded, literally and figuratively”, you giggled

“it was really a forced landing, but, you are here, and that’s what’s important, that you are here and well”

“Thank you Steffon, I think of all of them, I missed you more”

“Don’t let your father hear that” he chuckled.

He left you in your room, where, to your surprise, was your bag inside with your belongings you took on the trip with you. You put everything in order, and put aside little gifts you had brought for your father, sister, husband and nephew. Even after everything you bought them gifts

If you were going to see your father tonight, you'd give it to him then.

You were sitting by the hearth in your room, when the door opened, you looked up to see Harwin, looking back at you like you were some sort of apparition. You stood up from your chair

“You are back” he said gently, before you could speak he took long steps to reach you, cradling your face to look properly at you, he saw you throughout, “Are you alright?” you nodded, “are you hurt?” he looked down at your body

“No, I’m fine” his eyes landed on the 5 month baby bump you couldn’t hide anymore, and he fell on his knees, placing his hand on your belly, “Harwin…” you begun

“Is the baby ok, how are you feeling?” he asked, looking at your body, and it made you uncomfortable

“Harwin”, you called again, and he looked up to you, “Please stand up” he did to his massive height above yours. “how do you know it’s yours? maybe I misbehaved in the free cities”, you ran away from him, pregnant, and now you were questioning the paternity of the baby in your belly and yet he smiled

“I know it’s mine, wife” he said, “the maester came to see me the day you left” but then his face turned serious, “you left with my baby in your belly” you lowered your eyes then. “You didn’t tell me”

“Why would you care?” you asked bitterly

“You could have gotten hurt!” he explained, “you rode on dragon back, pregnant, something could’ve happened to you or the child!”

“It didn’t!” you told him, “the specialists in Essos said it is healthy, and growing properly” he took a long sigh

“If your uncle wouldn’t have brought you back you would have taken our child” he said, a deep, deep sadness in his eyes

“Why would you care?”, you said bitterly, “you already have a child”

“He is not…”

“You lied to my face”, you answered, “So tell me, dear husband” you continued… “should I expect more nephews of mine that pop out of my sister that coincidentally look like you?”

“No” he said, but he didn’t look ashamed at your accusation. You looked at him in defiance, hoping that could break him

“You gave her… a son, and you are unable to tell me the truth!” you condemned. He looked at you and sighed loudly

“We are going to Harrenhal” he sentenced

“What?” you asked, looking straight at him

“We are going to my family’s seat, my father is the hand of the King and cannot care for our lands properly, I will resign as a member of the city watch, and I will take his place”

“You cannot take that decision without me” you responded, but in his eyes was not the usual sympathy, there was determination, and also anger

“You are clearly not happy here” he told you, “I want to put distance between us and your sister and her son…”

“So you’ll hate me?” you asked, “I am the horrible person that is going to keep you from your son?” you asked then, “take you from your lover?”, he leaned over you, his hand quickly to cradle your face, calling your name, “I can’t move past this if you don’t admit it”

“If I say it outloud I make it true” he admitted, now in his eyes you could see true panic, maybe fear, “if I make it true, this is treason”, he continued, “You know what is done to traitors, what could be done to your sister, to the baby…”

“To you first” you muttered, looking down

“To me” he whispered his hands cradled your face, “Jacaerys is Laenor Velaryon’s son” he said firmly, and then he placed a hand on your stomach, “we made this baby, you and I, under our marriage vows” your eyes went to where his hand rested on your stomach, “the day before we got married I promised to you I would stop but it was already too late, but believe me when I say this, Rhaenyra and I will never touch again”, his thumbs caressed the apple of your cheek, his hot breath confusing you, throwing you inside a haze. Are you going to forgive him that easily?

“If you mean it, and you and Rhaenyra are never going to touch again,” he nodded, “I need to get past this, I need to forgive you”

“I’ll do anything” he said

“You never faced it Harwin, you are lying to me and pretended like nothing happened!” you spitted out, “you never faced me and you should have, if you wanted to see him you should have told me, so we can go through it together!”

“What do you want me to say?” he said then, “tell me how can I make you happy, how can you look at me with longing and happiness? and not with sadness?”

“You should have told me,” you repeated, “you treat me like I’m an idiot” you said back, “you never admitted to me, you denied it”

“Like I said, saying it outloud will make it true” he grunted, “But I do believe that we might never know for sure” he answered, “Only admitting it makes it real, and you know what can happen”

“If you want to spend time with my nephew you're going to look me in the eyes and tell me, I understand this happened before you married me, but it kills me!”

“I understand” he whispered

“Please Harwin, I… we cannot undo our marriage now”, you muttered, pointing at your belly, “And I will not place my sister and my nephew at risk”

“I lied to you about seeing our nephew, and in regards to that I will never lie to you again, but what it remains true is that what I had with Rhaenyra is over”

“Are you sure? please Harwin…”

“It’s true”, but you couldn’t hold it anymore, you didn’t know if it was relief, or fear, or pain, but you started crying softly.

“I feel like I’m a burden” you answered, “I saw you that day, at Rhaenyra’s side, holding her baby, and I…” a sob escaped your throat, and tears fell down your cheeks, “you should have married Rhaenyra instead of me” you cried, “you don’t want this, you’d rather be with her”

“That is not true” he whispered, “you are my wife” he said softly, “I was a comfort for Rhaenyra, she chose me but could have chosen another, only that, but you, you are my love” you dared to look up into his eyes, and what you saw melt your cold heart

“Are you sure?” you asked, with the hope of an innocent little girl, “please don’t break my heart again, I couldn’t bare it”

“Yes, I’m sure” he leaned in and kissed you softly, “everyday you weren’t here was like a nightmare”. His forehead was against yours, his warmth warming your own.

“But we have to work for it” you muttered

“Oh yes we do,” he said back, “people are talking…”

“I will do what I have to, I will play my part” he leaned in and kissed your forehead, “I have to give you a public apology”

“There is no need”

“I will take your word for it, because I was not looking forward to it” you giggled softly.

“You must be tired” he muttered, “I shall leave you to rest”

“You weren’t sleeping here?” you asked, looking around and not finding any of his things around

“It didn’t feel right, without you here”, you looked down with shame

“Would it please you to come back to my bed?” you asked him, not looking him in the eyes because it embarrassed you, but he made you look at him, two of his fingers under your chin. Those eyes again, looking at yours

“There is nothing that would please me more” oh that voice. Again

You shook your head and broke the spell he put you under, releasing yourself from his grip. He had to come back to your bed to shut those rumors, you knew better than anyone how dangerous rumors and loose tongues could be.

“I’ll bring my things” he said quietly, sad that you broke the moment, and he left your chambers once again.

But before he could come back, you were summoned for supper with your father. They called you to a small chamber next to the King’s, where Your mother, father and sister used to dine all together, it brought you fond memories. And you found Rhaenyra there

“You are back!” she greeted with a wide smile, you smiled back as he held you in a hug against her

“I’m back” you whispered against his ear

“We were so worried” she muttered, releasing and then looking at you

“I’m sorry for leaving just like that” you responded

“We never knew why you left”, you were alone in the small chamber, you knew it

“I saw you and Harwin” you confessed, “that morning he lied to me and then I saw you in your room holding your baby, and I couldn’t stand it, and I left”, she was worried, looking at you and then nodding

“I’m so sorry” she whispered, you nodded. He held your hands in hers, “He did want him to see him but I swear there was nothing more to it”

“I understand that you both had a past, and that past did catch up to all of us, but…”

“That’s all it was, the past”, she whispered

“I’m certain”, you whispered, “I still have Harwin in the kennels, but…”

“He is your husband” she said with a shy smile, “he is a great man, there is a reason why I encourage this”, you nodded

“We were always so close, I missed you Nyra”, you whispered

“I missed you too”

“You are with child” she said, smiling brightly, you knew your sister like the back of your hand, and she was truly happy for you, “I’m so happy, Jacaerys will have a cousin of his age!” she hugged you again, and you held her tightly

“I’m so happy too, we are creating our legacy, sister!” you whispered in her ear, and she held you closer and tighter.

“Look at that!” you separated to see your father entering the room, “my girls!”, He was so pleased, and so happy. He had lost half his hand, his sickness eating him slowly, but he was still healthy, and you were thankful for that.

You hugged your father, he might be the King, but in the intimacy of this moments, he was your father, he hugged you back, kissing the top of your head

“I missed you sweet girl”

“I’m sorry father”

“There is nothing to forgive girl, just don’t leave without notice again”

“I won’t” he released you so he could take a good look at you

“You are with child, we are going to dine, and celebrate, and you are going to tell me everything about your journeys, we heard you were quite busy”

“I will tell you father” you giggled, “of the wonders I’ve seen”

It was way past the hour of the bat when you managed to come back to your chambers, all giggly and happy on wine. You found Harwin sleeping peacefully, and changed your clothes to your nightgown and climbed on the bed with him.

If he was awake he didn’t show it. And you quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, content, happy, feeling warmth in the chest and extrangely safe in Harwin’s arms.

The next morning you were feeling a little hot, and you had trouble breathing, and you soon discovered it was because you had Harwin’s arm around your middle

“You have a heavy arm, husband” you complained, and he was already awake

“I wish to hold you close, for I fear you are going to leave me again” you released yourself from his grip, only to turn in the bed to look at him

“I’m very sorry” you confessed, under his loving gaze, “when I saw my own nephew, and his likeness to you I saw my future, a future in which you will father my sister many other sons, and I couldn’t stand it, to see the resemblance of them and our own children” you whispered, “and everyone would know…” he shushed you gently, washing away your concerns

“Do not think that because is not going to happen” he said gently

“It did happen, Harwin, don’t you think people will see that he is not Laenor’s son?” you whispered, “Imagine that poor boy’s life, and what is going to be”

“There is nothing we can do” he whispered, “it’s done”

“There is something” you said in whispers, “we are going to protect that boy, whatever it takes, we will protect him, you hear me?” he smiled to you, “the King, me, you, we are going to be so fucking blind everyone is going to question their own minds”

“Gods I fucking love you”, he whispered, and he leaned in to kiss you but you stopped him with a finger on his lips

“Not yet” you muttered, “And I believe that was the first time you told me you love me” you whispered

“It certainly isn't going to be the last”, he growled.

“Is it true? about Harrenhal?”, you looked up at him

“Is that something you would entertain?” he asked. And you thought about it, Harrenhal was an old and haunted place, it made you shiver, but if it was any other castle, you would have loved to move there, with Harwin, and your growing belly, you knew it. “I know the palace is a ghostly place…” he muttered like he could read your mind

“We can build a new one” you whispered like it was nothing. Looking at his big eyes, and in his face was a content smile.

Taglist! ❤️

@tearsarcane @integra1127 @aestmilky @thanyatargaryen @tythaitie @lostinworldofdarkness @voodoogoul @wildmindedbeauty32 @lil-pudd @alicattx @electric-bloo @astaaan-lol @stargaryenx @kaitieskidmore1 @bregarc @lilpnd @jcpenneyyy @janelei @fexibau @ladyoakenshield157 @danielle-leah1997 @lady-ragnvindr @cecilyjmorgenstern @omgsuperstarg @bugheadskid @batprincess1013

Thank you all for reading! this is really amazing! I love when people comment, and interact with the story, it means THE WORLD to me.

The next chapter might take a while longer to come, and if you want to discover what happened in that dinner... I might write a one-shot about it.

I might say... how do you feel about long time-jumps? like in the series?

#harwin strong x reader #ser harwin strong #ser harwin x reader #harwin strong x targaryen reader #harwin strong #harwin x reader #harwin breakbones #rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #misguidedhotd

557 notes · View notes

fanficapologist · 2 months

Text

Of Dragons and Maelstroms: Aemond POV

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Two

The year Maera spent with the family in the Red Keep proved to be a glorious one, bringing a sense of rejuvenation to the once somber halls. Like a much-needed rainstorm on a dehydrated garden, Maera's presence breathed new life into the atmosphere, infusing it with vitality and joy. Helaena, typically withdrawn, blossomed in Maera's company. With the young Lady by her side, she seemed more engaged and spent less time in her trance-like states.

Aegon, recognizing that Maera was not to be trifled with, ceased his bothersome antics, realizing that it was futile to challenge someone who met his provocations with unwavering resolve. His newfound indifference allowed them to enjoy their time together without the constant threat of disruption.

Even Queen Alicent, usually composed and regal, seemed to radiate a newfound warmth in Maera's presence. She enjoyed spending with the little girls, guiding them to the Sept to pray and spending afternoons with them in the company of a tutor, teaching them the graceful art of dance. In Maera, the Queen found not only a companion for her daughter but also a source of light and vitality that rejuvenated her own spirit.

Aemond found himself unable to deny the profound effect Maera had on him. Their friendship was unlike any other he had experienced within the confines of the Red Keep. There were no forced interactions, no courtly manners, no pretenses—just genuine companionship. In Maera's presence, Aemond felt liberated to be himself, unencumbered by the expectations of his station.

Despite understanding Maera's foremost duty to Helaena, Aemond couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at times when he had to share her attention. Yet, he cherished every moment they spent together, eagerly anticipating the rare occasions when Maera had free time away from her duties, knowing she would choose to spend it with him.

Their days were filled with adventure and laughter as they ran through the castle grounds, scaled its walls, engaged in spirited debates, and delved into the depths of ancient tomes, unraveling the mysteries of High Valyrian together. Eventually, their shared passion for sword training led them to convince Ser Criston Cole, the esteemed knight of the Kingsguard, to allow them to spar together. Knowing Alicent's children held a special place in his heart, Ser Criston relented, albeit in secret, allowing the pair to practice under his watchful eye.

Maera, borrowing a green tunic from Aemond's wardrobe, wore it with a casual grace that seemed to breathe new life into the garment. The verdant hue of the shirt perfectly complemented her striking green eyes, accentuating their brilliance with every glance. Paired with some weathered riding leathers procured from the stables, Maera appeared every bit as comfortable in her borrowed attire as she did in her delicate turquoise and gold dresses.

The atmosphere crackled with excitement as they exchanged playful banter and swift strikes from their wooden swords, each meeting the other's challenge with equal determination. Aemond and Maera challenged each other just the right amount, pushing themselves to improve while reveling in the joy of friendly competition.

“Should you even be down here?” A critical voice called out to the pair. Aemond and Maera looked up to see Aegon descending the steps, his presence casting a shadow over their moment of camaraderie. Aemond gritted his teeth, feeling a surge of frustration at his older brother’s unwelcome intrusion. Since Rhaenyra had taken her sons to Dragonstone, Aemond surmised that Aegon was lacking in playthings to torment and was seeking out a game.

Taking in the sight of Aegon, Aemond noticed the slight smudges of soot on his cheeks and the worn, dirty state of his clothes. A twinge of jealousy stirred in Aemond’s heart as he realized that Aegon had likely been to the dragonpit, the envy of his brother having access to a dragon gnawing at him.

“Should you?” Maera sneered, a frown on her face as the elder Prince approached them. Despite Maera having numerous elder brothers back at Rain House, she had confided in Aemond that she could only tolerate Aegon in small doses. Seeing him now, her irritation was palpable, a reflection of Aemond’s own feelings towards his brother’s presence.

Ser Criston greeted Prince Aegon with a nod, his dark brown hair ruffled by the breeze and his piercing dark eyes keen with watchfulness.“My Prince, have you come to train or merely spectate?”

Aegon grinned darkly at his brother and the young lady. “Give me a sword, Cole. Let me hone my skill using these two as practice.”

Aemond's nerves prickled as Aegon challenged him and Maera to a spar. Despite his years of training, Aemond couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension knowing that Aegon possessed a height and speed advantage, along with a slight edge in swordsmanship.

Glancing at Maera, however, Aemond found reassurance in her mischievous smirk. “We can take him, Aemond,” she whispered with a wink. Her confidence and readiness were palpable as she stood before him, her stance set and wooden sword raised in anticipation. Her unwavering courage bolstered his own resolve, and with a nod of determination, Aemond assumed his position, ready to face the challenge that lay ahead.

As Ser Criston's authoritative voice commanded the start of the spar, the tension in the training yard heightened palpably. Aegon wasted no time, launching his assault with a swift and aggressive strike aimed directly at Maera. However, with reflexes honed through countless hours of training, Maera deftly sidestepped the blow, her movements fluid and precise.

Meanwhile, Aemond and Maera coordinated their movements, strategically positioning themselves to cover each other's blind spots. Aegon, recognizing the threat posed by their combined defense, shifted his focus to Aemond, launching a relentless series of attacks with his wooden sword. Aemond, feeling the pressure mount with each strike, struggled to keep pace, his nerves fraying at the ferocity of Aegon's onslaught.

Seeing Aemond's struggle, Maera moved to intervene, her determination to protect her friend shining through. However, her noble intentions were met with unexpected aggression from Aegon. With a sudden and forceful elbow strike, Aegon caught Maera off guard, the impact landing squarely on her face with a resounding thud. The shock of the blow sent Maera reeling backward, her breath knocked from her lungs as pain radiated from the point of impact.

Prince Aegon refocused his attention on Aemond, he drove his younger brother backward with a relentless barrage of strikes from his wooden sword. Aemond, feeling the pressure mount, retreated step by step until he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground. Despite Aemond's vulnerable position, Aegon showed no mercy, continuing to rain down blows upon the younger Prince.

Aemond's eyes widened in shock as he watched Aegon suddenly yanked back by his hair, his expression contorting from triumph to agony. Behind Aegon stood Maera, her fierce determination evident as she held onto Aegon's locks, pulling him to the ground with a forceful tug.

Before Aegon could retaliate, Maera acted swiftly, leaping onto his wrist, the older Prince yelling out in pain as Maera's weight and momentum caused him to drop his sword. With one foot planted firmly on his chest to keep him down, Maera pointed her wooden sword menacingly at his face, her green eyes flashing with intensity as she held him at bay. At Ser Criston’s order, the match concluded.

The younger Prince watched in awe as Maera stood victorious over Aegon, flushed with exertion and breathing heavily from the intensity of the match. Their eyes met, and despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, Maera turned to Aemond with a triumphant grin, her expression mirroring his own sense of awe and admiration. In that moment, Aemond couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for his friend, who had proven herself to be a formidable opponent and a loyal ally.

Emerging victorious over Aegon, Maera bounded over to Aemond with uncontainable excitement, engulfing him in a big bear hug. With a joyful bounce, she celebrated her triumph, her glee infectious as she shared in the exhilaration of her victory with Aemond. In the midst of the commotion, Maera planted a light kiss on Aemond's cheek, barely noticeable but enough to send a rush of warmth flooding through him, his face flushing bright red as a smile spread across his lips.

However, their jubilant moment was interrupted by the sound of a slow clap emanating from above them. Maera's excited squeals came to an abrupt halt as the group turned their attention upwards, greeted by the sight of King Viserys, the Protector of the Realm, now weakened and feeble.

The King's thinning white hair atop his head fluttered gently in the breeze, the discolouration in his face a stark reminder of his declining health. Despite the black cloak that seemed to swamp him, there was a faint smile on his lips as he applauded the match. It was unclear how long he had been standing there, silently observing the scene before him, but his presence commanded respect and reverence from all who beheld him.

Ser Criston was the first to bow to the King, a gesture of respect and deference that was swiftly followed by Aegon's bow and Maera's curtsy. Aemond, feeling a surge of annoyance and confusion at the King's unexpected presence, reluctantly bowed as well, though his frustration simmered beneath the surface. Why had he even been watching them? Ever since his half-sister had fled with her bastards to Dragonstone, Aemond’s father spent even less time with his family, if that were even possible.

As King Viserys ushered Maera forward with a beckoning finger, Aemond felt a protective instinct stir within him. Though the King was not cruel in the conventional sense, his frequent avoidance of the family had left Aemond doubting whether his father even knew who Maera was or why she was there.

“Beaten by a little girl, Aegon? Your swordsmanship could use some work,” the King chuckled weakly, his tone carrying a hint of amusement as he addressed his son. Aegon’s response was a mere scoff, his eyes averting from his father’s gaze, a silent testament to his weariness of the constant criticisms.

Turning his attention to the young girl who had stepped forward, King Viserys inquired, “What is your name, young Lady?” Aemond observed Maera fidgeting nervously with her sleeves, a slight tremor betraying her voice as she responded to the King’s query. “Maera, of House Wylde, your Grace,” she replied, her words laced with deference.

Empathy welled up within Aemond as he observed Maera's usual green-eyed gaze downcast and her cheeks flushed red with nervousness. It was a rare display of vulnerability from his usually confident friend, and the Prince longed to reassure her. Her discomfort was palpable, and Aemond couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for dragging her into the midst of their family's complicated dynamics.

The King raised an eyebrow in recognition. “Daughter of my cousin Gael?” Maera nodded shyly in affirmation, prompting a warm smile to grace the King’s features. “Lady Gael corresponded often with my late wife, Queen Aemma. However, when she passed…” His voice trailed off, the mention of his deceased wife invoking a pang of discomfort in Aemond.

Suppressing a groan at the mention of his father’s old wife, Aemond shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering briefly to Maera, whose own discomfort mirrored his own. Despite the King’s attempt at cordiality, the specter of the past hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the otherwise jovial atmosphere of the training grounds.

Ser Criston's pointed clearing of his throat broke the momentary daze that had enveloped the King, prompting him to refocus his attention on Maera. “Do you practice with the sword often?” he inquired, his voice carrying a tone of genuine curiosity.

The little girl nodded eagerly, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. “Yes, my King. My father does not like it though. But since he is in King's Landing most of the time, that does not stop my brothers from training me at home,” she explained, her words tinged with a hint of defiance.

Aemond chuckled softly at his friend's response, his admiration for her resilience growing with each passing moment. It was fascinating to learn more about Maera's family dynamics, and despite the unconventional size of her household, there was a sense of warmth and camaraderie that seemed to permeate their interactions.

“And tell me, why were you able to knock Prince Aegon to the ground so easily?” the old King prodded with a mischievous smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Maera returned the grin, her gaze briefly flickering to Aegon and wagging her tongue at him teasingly, before returning to meet the King's eyes. “Because he was not paying attention and let his confidence get the better of him… as usual,” she quipped, her words laced with playful banter.

Viserys erupted into hearty laughter, a sound that resonated with a joyousness that Aemond had rarely heard from his father. Despite his failing health, the King's laughter seemed to invigorate the air around them, infusing the moment with an unexpected sense of lightness. Using his one hand to wipe away a tear from laughing so hard, the King addressed the little girl with genuine admiration. “Ha! You remind me of my daughter.”

Maera's gaze briefly flickered towards Aemond, a fleeting moment of shared understanding passing between them. Aemond could sense her apprehension, her awareness of the overshadowing presence of Rhaenyra, even in her absence. It was a reminder of the constant struggle for recognition within the House of the Dragon, a struggle that often left Alicent and her children feeling diminished and overlooked.

The young Lady cocked her head to the side, furrowed her brows and feigning confusion. “You have two daughters, your Grace.”

The King seemed taken aback by her statement, even though there was nothing malicious or ill-intentioned in the words. Perhaps hearing them was merely a reminder of what was true. Viserys did indeed have two daughters, as well as three sons. Yet that would not appear to be the case by how devoted he seemed to one child over the others. Not quite knowing what to say, the King smiled weekly a nodded before walking away, leaving Aemond to contemplate when the next time would be his father would be present.

“I wish for you to come with us,” Helaena implored, her voice tinged with longing.

Aemond and Helaena paid a visit to Maera in her chambers, knowing that she was bedridden with a stomach bug and could use some company. As they entered Maera’s room, Aemond couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast to his own chambers. Maera’s room was much smaller, containing only the essentials—a single bed, a small hearth, and a modest table for writing and dining. It lacked the grandeur and opulence of the rooms typically found in the Red Keep, yet it held a simple charm that felt inviting and comforting.

Maera shook her head weakly, a croak in her voice as she spoke. “You both should not even be in here,” she cautioned, her concern evident despite her illness. “My father will kill me if I get you sick.”

The young Prince was concerned for his friend. The poor girl appeared pale, her dark brown hair damp against her forehead from feverish perspiration. Unlike her usual attire, Maera was still dressed in her nightgown, covered by a sheet as she lay in bed, clearly weakened by her illness.

News had reached the Capital of Lady Laena Velaryon’s untimely passing during childbirth and the King had made it clear that the family were required to attend not only to support the Velaryons, but the Kings brother, Daemon. Aemond continued swinging his legs off the edge of the bed as he contemplated their situation. “I do not think we have ever been to Driftmark before. And what a dreary affair for a first-time visit,” he remarked, his tone tinged with a hint of wistfulness.

Maera’s eyes lit up at his words, a flicker of wonder shining through her illness. “But the sea and open air! It reminds me of home,” she mused, a faint smile gracing her lips.

They had been each others’ greatest allies for what seemed like a lifetime already, and Aemond was unsure if he could be strong without Maera’s presence. And he would need strength to be around some particular attendees of the funeral.

“Rhaenyra and my nephews will be there also,” he admitted reluctantly, his words carrying a weight of anticipation.

Maera winced visibly at his revelation, shifting beneath her sheets. “That will be awkward. But you never know, maybe some time together could improve things?” she suggested optimistically, her attempt at positivity met with a skeptical chuckle from Aemond.

“Hmmm, I doubt it, but we will see,” he responded with a wry smile, his skepticism evident in his tone.

Meanwhile, Helaena, who had remained quiet and distant throughout their conversation, suddenly spoke up in a trance-like state, her words carrying an ominous weight. “He will have to close an eye,” she muttered cryptically, her words hanging heavy in the air.

Aemond and Maera exchanged a puzzled glance, uncertainty clouding their expressions. The atmosphere in the room grew tense as they pondered the meaning behind her enigmatic statement, a sense of foreboding settling over them like a heavy shroud.

"I am fine, Maera," he said curtly, his voice carrying a note of finality. "I have what I wanted."

Aemond walked away from Maera, his emotions churning within him like a stormy sea. He had hoped for her to share in his triumph, to revel in the glory of his achievement. He had thought they would celebrate together, perhaps even take a thrilling ride on his newfound dragon mount. But instead, Maera's reaction had shattered his expectations, leaving him seething with frustration and hurt.

As he walked, Aemond couldn't shake the image of Maera's horrified face from his mind. The way she had looked at him, at his eye socket now stitched shut, had pierced him to the core. It was as if she saw him differently, as if his injury had somehow changed their dynamic, and the thought angered him.

Aemond felt a surge of resentment building within him. He didn't want Maera's pity, nor anyone else's. He had accomplished the impossible—he had claimed a dragon, defying all odds and expectations. Yet, instead of admiration or celebration, all he received was sympathy, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. In that moment, he felt like a beggar in Flea Bottom, seen as less than, and weak, and Aemond resolved to fight that . He was a prince, a dragonrider, and he deserved to be treated as such.

After the devastating loss of his eye, Aemond made a conscious decision to rebuild himself, determined to prove that he was not defined by his injury but rather by his strength and resilience. He threw himself into his studies with a newfound intensity, delving into history and philosophy with a hunger for knowledge that bordered on obsession. Privately, he trained with Ser Criston multiple times a day, honing his combat skills with unwavering focus and dedication, refusing to allow himself to be distracted by self-pity or doubt.

Aemond also devoted himself to mastering High Valyrian, determined to excel in every aspect of his education. He rode Vhagar regularly, forging a deep and unbreakable bond with his dragon companion, ensuring that their connection remained strong and unwavering, wanting to become the strongest rider that had ever lived.

Aemond couldn't deny that he was now changed, and not just because he had become a dragon rider. The loss of his eye at the hands of Lucerys Velaryon had left a deep and lasting impact on him, one that went beyond the physical injury. While he had assured his mother that it was a fair exchange, inwardly he knew that his view on the world had shifted irrevocably.

Anger simmered beneath the surface of Aemond's outward composure, fueled by the injustice of what had happened to him. Yet, he found himself unable to express his fury openly, constrained by the decree of his father and King. So the anger festered within him, growing with each passing day, despite his best efforts to bury himself in his pursuits.

In the midst of his turmoil, the young Prince found himself avoiding his siblings and, unfortunately, Maera. He wasn't ready to face them, not yet. He needed time to become better, cleverer, stronger—not just physically, but in every aspect—so that he would not only be seen as the cripple he had become.

The night on Driftmark, Aemond had witnessed firsthand the weakness of his father, King Viserys, who had failed to assert his authority and defend his family's honor. Even his brother, Aegon, had proven himself to be lacking in strength and resolve. Realising that he could not rely on anyone else to protect his family, Aemond took it upon himself to step into the role of protector . He knew that the burden of responsibility rested heavily on his shoulders, but he was determined to rise to the occasion and prove himself worthy of his heritage.

After many months of introspection and self-improvement, Aemond finally felt ready to reconnect with his friend, Maera. Steeling himself against the lingering shame and insecurity that had plagued him since the incident, he made his way to her chambers, determined to resume their friendship as if nothing had changed.

However, upon entering Maera’s room, Aemond was met with a chilling emptiness. The familiar sights of her belongings—dresses, hair combs, and the wooden sword she often practiced with—were conspicuously absent, leaving the room devoid of the warmth and life that Maera had brought to it.

The young Prince attempted to gain answers from his sister, yet Helaena could not give a straight answer, avoiding eye contact and instead focussing on the Perisomena moths in metal cage. Instead, Aemond found his mother, bursting into her chambers with a sense of urgency, his single violet eye ablaze with concern as he scanned the room for any sign of Maera’s presence. Finding Queen Alicent seated beside the hearth, her hands deftly embroidering with delicate green silk, he wasted no time in voicing his demand.

“Where is Lady Maera?” he demanded, his voice betraying both strength and worry as he confronted his mother.

Alicent looked up from her stitching, her expression softening with sympathy as she met her son’s gaze. “She is gone, my Love. Back to Rain House,” she replied gently, her sad smile conveying her understanding of Aemond’s distress.

The shock registered plainly on Aemond’s face, his brows furrowing with disbelief as he processed the news, his feelings morphing from sadness to anger and betrayal. She had not waited for him, had not even said goodbye. Maera had abandoned him, his only friend in the entire world. His anger surged, directed squarely at his mother. “And you just let her go?” he exclaimed, his frustration evident in his tone as he struggled to comprehend the girls sudden departure.

In that moment, Aemond felt a searing pain radiate from where his eye used to be, spreading like wildfire through his skull. His hand instinctively flew to his face as he groaned in agony, the phantom sensation of the blade cutting open his flesh haunting him once more.

Alicent reacted swiftly, abandoning her embroidery to rush to her son’s side, her hands reaching out to cradle his head in a gesture of comfort and concern. “Talya, fetch the Maester,” she called out to her servant, her voice tinged with urgency as she tended to Aemond’s distress.

As the pain gradually subsided, leaving behind a lingering sense of disloyalty and anger, Aemond stubbornly brushed off his mother’s attempts to assist him. “I am fine, Mother,” he insisted tersely, his tone brimming with unresolved anger and hurt. With a curt nod, he abruptly turned on his heel and stormed out of his mother’s chambers, his heart heavy with the weight of Maera’s departure and the unanswered questions swirling in his mind.

Aegon found him some time later on his balcony, where the younger prince looked out towards the sea, still processing the emptiness he felt. Seeing his older brother in his chambers, Aemond groaned at his presence, praying to the Gods that they would grant him just one moment of reprieve.

“You weep for your long lost love, brother?” The older Prince asked teasingly, earning a quiet huff from Aemond. As the one-eyed Prince was about to ask his brother to leave, he turned to spot Aegon’s arm outstretched with a leather canteen, a sympathetic smile on his face.

Cautiously, Aemond took it, unscrewing the bottle and taking a quick swig, the bitterness of the wine causing him to cough. Aegon simply laughed, patting his brother on the shoulder before settling beside him on the balcony.

“Do not fret. Now that she is gone I can teach you how to be a proper man.”

Notes: I am powering through these Aemond POVs. Also the new HOTD trailer has come out and I’m obsessed so doing an Aemond chapter feels easier at the moment. Regular ODAM needs editing and will be uploaded soon but for now, I am vibing with this 😎

Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#maera wylde #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house wylde #hotd helaena #house of the dragon

26 notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 1 year

Text

the last one standing

pairings: robb stark x fem!targaryen!reader, aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader

summary: the one where you’re set to marry your younger brother, aemond. and the night beforehand you run away, a last moment of freedom before you’re life is gone. but end up in a not-so foreign land where you discover the ending of the House of the Dragon. and maybe fall in love along the way.

warnings: none

a/n: i literally cleaned out my drafts and found the part two of this, just uploaded!!

The fifth moon. The wedding was set in stone and the prospect of marriage loomed over your head everywhere you went. The small folk congratulated you wherever you went. You were known for your own kind nature, connecting with the people of Kings Landing whenever the opportunity showed.

“Y/n the Kind”, or “The Diamond of the Realm”, these were two of many names you’d taken under your wing. When word of your marriage reached the ears of the people of Westeros many people decreed it unlawful, per usual, but most were entirely shocked. Why would such a sweet hearted girl be wed to a cold-hearted man?

Since your early years you managed to gather plenty of suitors. Most started enthralled with the idea of courting, (and eventually marrying) The Diamond of The Realm, but most actually ended up befriended by you. As you liked to point out to your mother as many a chance as you received, “These men come along seeking a wife in me, most end up leaving with a trusted friend. I do not know how exactly, but I suppose my kind nature is so sweet they see me as a confidante, a sister.” Which your mother was not happy to hear, but never questioned you. “Well you wouldn’t exactly scare them away as Rhaenyra tried in her years. Perhaps we need to find someone more durable, strong-headed.”

And that person just so happened to take shape in your younger brother; Aemond.

As children you got along quite well. Helaena and Aegon were always to be set together, as were the two of you; but you were always opposed to the idea. You were 4 years his senior, and had offered the idea of yourself and your twin brother’s marriage. But deep down you knew you wished for anything but, as did Aegon. You weren’t particularly close as children to anyone of your three brothers. Helaena had common interest with you, but you always were closer with Rhanyra’s children, Jace and Luke.

Your relationship was fine, until Laena Velaryon’s passing, and the fight of Prince and Princesses, as you had dubbed it. You had defended Luke’s actions in front of everyone claiming self defence, Alicent was confused, Aegon amused and Aemond disheartened. Was he that annoying? His own sister, nay intended, finds their bastard cousins more so family then himself?

Afterwards you never really interacted with Aemond, he kept to himself, grew and grew, trained and became a man. A Prince. Whilst you learned and taught, drunk your feelings for a period of time with Aegon and drowned in suitors.

As you gazed into the starry night above, you pondered the question which had been running rampant the past few days, would your dear half-sister Nyra and your uncle Daemon, or “Dae” as you said, take you in? Risk a war to keep you from a miserable existence, chained to a child bed, pumping heirs by the second?

You knew they would. As much as they despised the blacks you always felt as if you were one of them. But you could never risk their lives in such reckless ways. You could hear your mother and septa screaming in your head, “How dare you ponder over such treacherous thoughts?” “This is your duty!” “The birthing bed is our battlefield.” Which you had heard from the Queen, although you had heard similar from Nyra.

You needed to clear your head, you figured.

After half an hour of persuading Ser Criston Cole, who was coming to check on you, that is.

Your Nyraxes was asleep, but as you approached her head lifted off the ground, her scales painted a breathtaking dark violet, with dark blue and silver streaks like Dreamfyre. The pair got a long well, you and Helaena always flew together. With the violet came gorgeous amber eyes. She grew incredibly quickly, half of Vhagar’s size at the mere age of 20.

Your siblings always mounted their dragons with saddles, they treated their dragons as that, just dragons. You and Helaena cared for your girls as if they were your children.

You carefully mounted Nyraxes and set off for anywhere but the Red Keep. As you flew with no particular destination in mind you viewed a circular stone arrangement in a valley below. You’d been riding for thirty minutes or so and decided to dive down for a break before returning to your chambers.

Once you landed you soothed Nyraxes, “Gīda ñuha riña, gīda. Ēdrugon lo ao jaelagon ñuha jorrāelagon.”

Calm my girl, calm. Sleep if you wish my love.

The sight was a marvel, these stone statues in the middle were solid, they did not budge in the slightest. Upon gazing the sculptures and stone you felt yourself grow weary, but not before you stumbled across an ornate mirror.

What you didn’t realise was that this mirror was the origin of your tiredness. You felt waves of calm wash over as you slowly drifted into the sleeping realm.

The birds you would normally hear in Kings Landing were distant, in the back of your mind. What you did hear was a howling, or was it barking?

“Lady what is it?” Sansa spoke as she chased after her dear Lady. Robb reprimanded her, “Sansa slow down, you’re legs will fall off. And if you return home injured mother will have my head.”

(I’m so sorry for that 😭)

“Yes, I am being careful father.” Sansa mocked. “You think you’re being funny do you? I can make people laugh too Sansa.” Robb teased as he ran after his younger sister, only to look up and find nothing. Not his sister nor her direwolf.

Robb’s brows creased and confused, as was the rest of him. Soon worry triumphed his emotions, “Sansa? Sansa, this is not fun to joke of. Sansa!” He rushed forwards to be face to face with a violet scales dragon, flaring its nostrils whilst its tail wrapped around the shivering body of his mother.

“I thought dragons were supposedly extinct!” Sansa whispered to her brother, careful of her movements since she wasn’t exactly in the mood to get burnt to a crisp. “They most definitely are.” “Then tell me what in the hell is infront of us Robb.”

At the sound of voices your eyes opened, as a wave of cold air smacked you upfront. As you turned you were met with two people, staring directly at you, then Nyraxes, then you, then Nyraxes. The loop continued until you questioned them.

“Who are you?”

“Robb Stark of Winterfell, Eldest son to Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Stark, this is my younger sister, Lady Sansa Stark. And you?” He questioned as he straightened his posture in an attempt of courage infront of the woman and the dragon, mostly the dragon.

“You don’t know who I am?”

“I’m afraid not my Lady.” Robb spoke as he extended his arm out, infront of his sister as a barrier between herself and the dragon.

“Princess Y/n of House Targaryen, your princess, The Diamond of the Realm.”

“Targaryen?”

“That is what I said is it not? Who are you imposters I’ve never heard of Eddard nor Catelyn or the two of you. Where is Cregan Stark?”

“Cregan Stark, my princess, is my ancestor. From many moons ago.”

You looked at him as if he had just slapped you, “How-How many moons would you say?”

“It’s hard to say, people can’t exactly make out an exact year for his death. But I would say perhaps one hundred thirty to fifty. Although I am not the most reliable source Princess.”

You couldn’t hear anything around you.

It’s not possible. How could your life have been so very long ago? Were you still dreaming? Was this a cruel joke Aegon decided to organise for his amusement? Did you die- no. Not possible.

Your surroundings were changing, more so spinning.

“I think she’s awake now. Robb! Jon! Come quick!” The voice was definitely loud, as if you could hear it bouncing off the walls. A young girl perhaps? You heard fast footsteps against the harsh floor, fading away as slower, more intimidating steps made their way towards the room you had been allocated.

You were still so cold. You felt horrible for feeling bad for yourself when Nyraxes was probably freezing!

Nyra. Was she safe? Had she flown to warmer places and was soon to return? Or had she been taken prisoner somehow?

The anxiety and worry had you shooting up out of bed just at the thought of Nyra being in pain, or worse.

“Feeling all right there Princess?”

You looked to the door and saw the same man from before, Robb.

His name was Robb.

As you finally looked at him. His light brown beard, fair skin, divine eyes staring straight at you, his hair looked so very soft. He leaned against the doorway with a smirk on his face as you realised you had been staring, his nickname for you hot on the tip of his tongue.

“Princess? You there? Or do you need more time to stare at me? Because I do not mind it all.” He grinned whilst making his way to you.

#robb stark x reader #game of thrones #house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader

279 notes · View notes

withouthonor · 1 year

Text

send me “ what am i?” and my muse will describe yours in 3 words.

@drakonivs sent : “ what am i?” ( to criston? )

pain. disappointment. beloved.

#drakonivs #ser criston cole; interactions

2 notes · View notes

asherbakugou · 1 month

Text

Son of Arrax

King of the Gods, God of Justice, Law, Order, and Governance.

Queen Alicent Hightower stood at the balconey of her apartments – the lavishly furnished Queens Apartments – eyes unfocused as she looked down towards Aemma's Garden, only recently finished by the wrokers sent by Lord Tyrell as a gift to the pregnant Crown Princess. From where she stood she could smell all the different flowers that lined the beautiful garden and surrounded a pavillion carved from the same white stone the Eyrie was made of.

She waited impatiently for news of Princess Rhaenyra's labors, praying to the Seven that she would have a girl, furthering Prince Aegons claim. The skin around her nails was torn to shreds with drops of blood falling to the stone beneath her feet, but she hardly noticed.

Surely King Viserys Targaryen, her husband and Princess Rhaenyra's father, would finally see the craven whore his daughter was after she birthed the bastard of Ser Harwin Strong. He had allowed her to run rampant, giving in to every whim and wish she had. Why just recently he had given her the Heir's apartments! Only slightly smaller than the Kings own apartments and far larger than her own, which was just disrespectful to her, the Queen! Princess Rhaenyra and her heathen husband now had an entire floor within Maegor's Holdfast to themselves and their 'household', while she only had a single corridor filled with rooms!

Aegon deserved to have the Heirs Apartments as the Kings Firstborn, not the Royal Whore of the Red Keep and her Sword-Swallowing husband!

But no matter how many people she told the truth, those who adored Rhaenyra gave her everything. Her Uncle, Prince Daemon the Whoremonger himself sent ships of men, servants, healers, and midwives, an entire household of those he had personally vetted as the letter that had accompanied them had boasted. Alongside those ships were those filled with jewels, cloth of all kinds from Essos, Pentos, and the Free Cities, toys for the babe, furniture of all kinds for Princess Rhaenyra's new Apartments all sent by Lady Laena, Prince Daemons wife.

Lord Corlys was much the same, sending for the most exotic fruits, vegetables, seafood, and meat his money could buy. King Viserys had not only gifted her the Heir's Apartments but everything the Late Queen Aemma had owned from dresses to jewels, leaving her, the true Queen who had done her duty, to buy new ones after all of hers had been taken. It was humiliating to have to buy an entire chest of jewelry!

Lady Jeyne Arryn had also sent gifts, including the stone for the pavilion, such as old items that belonged to Princess Daella Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn. She even sent objects that had once belonged to her grandfather, Rodrick Arryn, much to the shock of everyone.

The entirety of the North had sent her gifts as well, from furs to men, simply out of loyalty and of course the Tyrells had built the princess a garden that was then named after her mother, planting four Weirwood trees in the corners of the garden much to her displeasure.

Fortunately Princess Rhaenys seemed to realize that the child was a bastard and the Baratheons had followed her lead in not interacting with the couple outside of what was deemed respectable. She was oft seen conversing with her son, conversations that ended with him storming away in fury, after the Princess likely tried to convince him of his wifes sins. But the poor man was besotted. No man had ever doted over their wife the way Prince Laenor did.

A quiet knock pulled the Queen from her musings. The door opened allowing Ser Criston Cole, her loyal guard to poke his head inside, "It is Tayla. She says she was sent with word of the Princess' labors."

"Let her in, Ser Criston. I wish to hear the happy news," Queen Alicent stated, tucking her hands behind her back.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Tayla hurried inside waiting for the door to close before speaking. "The Crown Princess has given birth to a boy, Your Grace."

Queen Alicent scowled for only a moment before smoothing her features back out. "Do you know how the Princess fares? Does she suffer the same as her mother, the late Queen, did? And the boy, tell me of his looks? Who does he resemble more, his mother, his father, a relative perhaps?"

"The Crown Princess is well, already up and moving from what I saw, Your Majesty. She refused the wetnurse the King offered, told everyone within that she would not let her son be fed by a stranger when she was right there with milk to spare," Tayla smiled at the memory of the Crown Princess. "And Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen is beautiful, My Queen. A perfect mix of his mother and father."

The smile fell from Queen Alicents lips, "What? What do you mean?!"

"The babe had the hair color of his mother but its curlier, I believe. And his eyes are from her too, but his skin color is more like his fathers. I was not close enough to see his facial features but I could hear Lord Velaryon and the King celebrating him."

Queen Alicent stared at the servent silently before commanding, "Take me to them. Now. I wish to meet the newest member of the Velaryon family." She made sure to emphasize the name Velaryon, believing the maid had mispoken but she did not correct her self.

"Of course, your Majesty. The Crown Princess has been taken back to her Apartments in order to rest." Tayla turned to lead the Queen to the Heir's Apartments as Ser Criston Cole fell into step behind her, white armor gleaming as his cloak fluttered dramatically.

The walk was considerably shorter than Queen Alicent expected but that did not make it anymore pleasant. The walls of the entire third floor of the Holdfast had Valyrian Tapestries depicting family members and their respective dragons, starting with Daenys the Dreamer. There were even Velaryon tapestries hung up, pictures of sea creatures of myths and legends that made Queen Alicent shudder.

The halls were lit with dragonglass latterns that threw beautiful patterns along the walls. The group of three passed by several members of Princess Rhaenyra's Household, including Lady Sara Snow, Lady Annara Celtigar, and Lady Mara Karstark.

The large black wood door at the end of the hallway had Syrax, the Princess' dragon carved into the wood and filled with gold, the large green emerald eye acting as the handle. Standing outside was Ser Harrold Westerling and Ser Arryk Cargyll, the Kings guard for the day, Ser Harwin Strong and Ser Erryk Cargyll, the Princess' Guard, as well as six other guards, Velaryon and Arryn based upon their armor were posted in the hallway.

Ser Strong opened the door, calling into the room, "Queen Consort Alicent of House Hightower." He stepped out of the way, eyeing Ser Cole, who was smirking haughtily.

They knew his secret.

Sweeping inside, Queen Alicent found Princess Rhaenyra resting upon a beautiful, cushioned chaise, her youngest lady, Lady Sera Dondarrion, working oils through her long, golden-white hair.

"Ahh, my dear Queen!" King Viserys called, sat upon an armchair with his grandson cradled within his arms. "You will be most delighted to see what the Gods have gifted my dear grandson!"

Her smile nearly fell, but she quickly plastered it back in place, "A gift from the Seven-Who-Are-One? I would be delighted, husband."

"Come, come," King Viserys said, using his head to gesture her over. Coming to stand at his side, purposefully displacing Lord Corlys, who ignored her to focus on his grandson, she looked down, fully expecting a carbon copy of Ser Harwin Strong, no matter the reports of Tayla.

Instead soft, thick, curly golden-white hair formed a halo upon his head, the sunlight that streamed through the window giving it a soft glow. Purple eyes, the same as Rhaenyra's down to the color and placement of the darker black specks, stared back at her though she noticed a strange sheen to them, seemingly giving them a golden tint when the sunlight them. Dark skin, though a few shades lighter than Prince Laenors or Lord Corlys', though it was likely that it would darken if he became a sailor like his grandfather and father.

"Look," Viserys murmured, lightly brushing back the curls piled onto his tiny forehead. In white lines upon his forehead, etched into his skin, was a crown with a strange rune in the very center.

"It means 'King'," Lord Corlys stated, smiling widely. "Its an Old Language, shared by the First Men, Valyrians, and Ghiscari. The last time I saw anything like it was while I was visiting Old Ghis."

Laenor rolled his eyes as the two dads shared a laugh, while the babe cooed, turning his attention to his father.

"Does he have a name?" Alicent asked, voice tense. A glance to Rhaenyra told her that she could hear the tone change and was amused by it.

"Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, First of His Name, and Heir to me, the Heir to the Irone Throne and Heiress to House Targaryen. Tonight we plan to announce him to all the Great Houses," Princess Rhaenyra stated, smile softening as she looked to her babe.

"I congratulate you, Princess. Your Mother must be looking down upon you in happiness for your success, from the Strangers Embrace," Queen Alicent said, trying to hide a sharp smirk as Rhaenyra's gaze flashed.

"Lady Helaena, your dearest Mother, one of my own dear mothers companion must be looking upon me favorably as well. It is a shame she left so young, but she lives on in the paintings you or your father must have. At least I can look upon the mirror and see my mother at times, but you, my lady, are the perfect imitation of your father," Rhaenyra grinned, teeth sharp and poised at the throat. Alicent nearly gaped at Rhaenyra, shocked by the low blow. The Princess knew she had no paintings of her mother because they were too expensive for a second son to afford.

"Thank you," Queen Alicent barely hid a snarl with a false smile. "My husband, I fear I must return to mine own chambers to ready myself for the feast tonight."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek to hide the hatred and anger she yearned to let them see.

"Of course, my dear. I shall see you tonight then." The king was far more focused on the babe than he was his wife, not even registering the kiss on his cheek.

Queen Alicent stalked outside, Ser Cristin quickly falling into step with one last look towards Ser Harwin.

How could Rhaenyra have said something so cruel! Her father was right. This was no longer her friend but her enemy. Aegon would take his rightful place upon the Throne. Viserys would eventually have to see the truth, that his daughter was unfut to rule, that women were unfit to be in places of such power.

From now on she had to begin finding allies for herself, especially now that her father was no longer the Kings trusted Hand and advisor. Her first act would have to be discrediting the rumors that were sure to appear once people saw the birthmark upon Prince Jacaerys' forehead.

Nearly flinging her door open she ordered the servent within to find her best green dress. The maid bowed and scurried into the adjacent chamber to find one while other servents were called to bath her.

For two hours she allowed herself to be pampered, both in the bath and outside it, before allowing the servents to carefully lace up the beautiful generald green dress with tight sleeves, a high neckline, and beautiful green detailing around the bust and waist, emphasizing her small figure. After Aemond she had easily dropped the added pregnancy weught, something she doubted Rhaenyra would be able to do.

Queen Aemma had always looked swelled, or unhealthy and it wouldn't surprise her if Rhaenyra was the same.

Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen smiled as Cylia and Morgana Strong carefully aided her towards her bathing chamber, where a steaming bath awaited. Maester Mellos, who the King had allowed in after Queen Alicents departure, had tried to insist that a hot bath was unhealthy but the healer had disregarded that. Apparently the woman had helped Saera Targaryen give birth several times and the older woman always felt better after a steaming bath. It was a Targaryen thing, she said.

Rhaenyra could see the different herbs one of the other healers had added and could not help but ask, "What kind of herbs are in here?" She sank into the water with a near moan, muscles relaxing.

"Yarrow to reduce swelling, lemon balm to keep fevers and sickness at bay, and witch hazel to help the healing process," Healer Ana answered, carrying over a cup of tea. "Your grace, I suggest drinking nettle tea for the next three days in order to quicken the healing process. It shall also aid in milk production to make your son grow quicker and healthier."

Nodding, Rhaenyra took the tea, relieved at the warmth that slid down her throat. Luckily it had been sweetened by honey and the slightest bit of milk so she could ignore the bitter tasting liquid easier. "Thank you."

"Of course."

She was happy to note that Healer Ana had remembered her decision to breastfeed Jacaerys herself, rather than passing him off to a wet nurse as most did. Her and Laenor had agreed that they could not trust anyone, so it would be safer, and seemingly healthier according to the midwives, for him to feed from her.

For a good hour she soaked, drinking several cups of tea during the time, as Morgana and Cylia painted her nails a beautiful dark red, a very expensive shade her goodsister had sent her. Once the water had cooled, she was dried and dressed in a plain towel so Sera could braid her hair in a simple crown.

The dress she chose was black with red and gold trim, long draping sleeves filled with soft fur, made in the Northern style. It had been a gift from Lord Rickon Stark and his young son, Cregan Stark, and one she quite adored. Pulling it on, she admired the softness as she swept out of her dressing room, finding all three men still cooing over little Jacaerys.

"Father, Goodfather, I believe you the feast will be beginning in an hour," Rhaenyra said, smiling at the slight panic both men obviously felt.

"Ahh, you're right, my dear," Viserys pressed a kiss against her cheek as his eldest gently took Jacaerys. "I shall see you tonight for the feast."

"As will I. You did well, my son," Lord Corlys stated, clapping Laenor on the shoulder. He gave his father a strained smile, escorting the two from her Apartments, before nearly slumping against the door.

"I can not believe him sometimes. Did you see his face when we introduced Jacaerys?!"

"Did you see the Queens? She looked as if she sucked a lemon when she saw our little boy."

Laenor laughed, vividly remembering the shocked look upon her face, as well as the look on her face when she saw his marking.

"I must admit, I was surprised by the marking as well. I know Arrax told us he would lay claim upon his . . . our? . . . son, but I did not realize it would be so visible," Laenor admitted, lightly brushing his fingers over Jacaerys' forehead, smiling at the quiet coo.

"It is a boon either way. The servents, healers, and midwives that were present during the birth will gossip, and after tonight, when all the Lords and Ladies we invited see it they will know that Jacaerys is my rightful heir. The Greens will see that he is no bastard, that he is more Valyrian than the Queens half-breed children."

Laenor grinned, pressing a kiss against her cheek. "I love when you get all viscious. Unfortunate that I must depart from my beautiful lady wife and handsome little boy to dress myself for tonight's feast." He pressed another kiss to her lips to further seal the act, having noticed Sera emerge from her dressing room, before taking his leave.

The Great Hall was beautifully decorated with tables made of oak holding dragonglass vases filled with flowers, red, black, sea-green, and silver silks across the tables. Every seat was filled, with every Great House having arrived within the last two weeks and several smaller Houses having been invited as well.

House Hightower, House Redwyne, House Lannister, and House Bracken all wore green, whether it was a dress, jewelry, or a doublet. Everyone else within the hall wore black alongside their House colors, filling the hall with an array of colors.

House Targaryen and House Velaryon sat at the largest long table situated at the front of the hall, with nearly all of them in attendance. Princess Rhaenys, who had yet to be introduced to her grandson, had a pinched look upon her face, much to Ser Otto Hightowers delight.

It was very obvious to everyone that she thought, knew, that Prince Laenor and Crown Princess Rhaenyra's newbirn son was a bastard, likely begotten by Ser Harwin Strong.

The doors swung open, "Announcing Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne, Heiress to the House of Targaryen, Future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and her husband, Prince Laenor Velaryon, Heir to Driftmark, High Tide, and to the House of Velaryon, Future King Consort to Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."

The announcer did not give the name of the babe swaddled in Prince Laenors arms, giving the Royal Family that opportunity to officially announce him and his titles.

"My dearest daughter," King Viserys called, standing from his seat at the head of the table. "Lords and Ladies of the Realm, I must say today is a glorious day for the combined Targaryen-Velaryon. My heir has had her own heir and secured her lineage."

"Thank you, father. Thank you, Lords and Ladies, for traveling so far to be here with us on this joyous occasion. While I am before you tonight I wish to address the rumors about the birth of my son," Crown Princess Rhaenyra stated, holding herself with grace. Prince Laenor eyed the Hightowers who were all sharing small sneers with each other.

"Yesterday afternoon my wife began her labors within the Throne Room, before giving birth to my son early this morning in the shadow of the Iron Throne," Prince Laenor announced, fighting back a smirk when the sneers dropped and everyone one began whispering.

"Now, I would like to introduce our son. Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, Heir to the Heiress of House Targaryen, and Heir to the Heir of the Iron Throne, Future King of the Seven Kingdoms!"

The Blacks cheered for their future Queen and King as Crown Princess Rhaenyra tilted her son towards the crowd, showing them his curly golden-whitr hair and dark skin.

"Now please, feast! Celebrate!" Laenor shouted, earning even louder cheers as the two rounded the table to sit down.

"Laenor," Rhaenys murmured, purple eyes boring into her gooddaughters head. "Princess Rhaenyra."

"Mother," Laenor greeted coldly, not even deigning to look at his mother. She glared at her son, making to speak before Corlys cut her off.

"Rhaenys," Corlys began, keeping his voice low. "Just hold the boy for a moment."

"I refuse."

Laenors muscles locked in place, grey-purple ryes flashing with fire. Rhaenyra knew that if they had been closer to the Dragon Pit they'd be able to hear Seasmokes roars of fury.

"Then I believe its high time you return to Driftmark, Princess Rhaenys," Laenor snarled, viciously stabbing a clam upon his plate. "I will not have my son mocked, I will not let you give the Greens fuel to attack my wife and son. So if you are going to act like a petty child than I do not desire to have your company during this celebration, nor does my wife or son."

Rhaenys and Corlys both gaped at their son as Rhaenyra smiled, placing a hand on the crook of his arm and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I thank you, husband mine."

"Laenor . . ." Rhaenys hesitated when she saw the look in her sons eyes. "Fine. Let me see the babe."

Rhaenyra was reluctant to pass over her son to the woman who had been the source of several of their problems recently but she did. Jacaerys settled in his grandmothers arms, only opening his arms once he was comfortable.

Staring down at the babe that looked so similar to Laenor as a babe, Rhaenys could not help the wave of guilt that flowed through her. "Laenor, Rhaenyra, I–"

The deep gutteral bellow of a dragon made the castle shake, scaring the guests within the hall. Wives reached for husbands as men reached for blades, looking around wildly.

"That . . . Is that not Vermithor?" Corlys questioned, standing from his seat. King Viserys sought to calm the people but another riar from the Bronze Fury only stirred them up more.

Jacaerys cooed, purple eyes gleaning as he was taken back into his mothers arms. Looking down Rhaenyra found the same love she felt for Syrax, the same she saw reflected in Laenors eyes whenever he saw or spoke of Seasmoke, and she knew.

"SILENCE!" Laenor commanded, having recognized what was happening as well. "Vermithor is not here to attack, but to claim his rider."

Crown Princess Rhaenyra swept from the Great Hall, heading towards the courtyard that Vermithor would have to land in if he wished to fit.

The Bronze Fury was stunning with scales of beaten bronze and copper, red-bronze spikes around his narrow face and along his spine seemed to shine in the light of the setting sun.

Hundreds of people, nobility and smallfolk alike, were witness to Vermithor meeting Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen before allowing Prince Laenor and his rider upon his back for a flight around King's Landing. There was no possible way for Otto to manipulate the circumstances to better serve him. Everyone would know what had happened that day.

Crown Prince Jacaerys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, Heir to the Heir of the Iron Throne, Heir to the Heiress of House Targaryen, the Born King, the Divine Ruler, He Who Was Born in the Shadow of the Iron Throne, the Lawful, the Bringer of Justice, the Judge, the Rider of Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, the King's Mount, had been born.

#house of the dragon #demigods of valyria #demigods #myths #rhaenyra targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #laenor velaryon #vermithor #laena velaryon #daemon targeryan #king viserys #queen alicent #otto hightower #iron throne #red keep #kings landing #ser harwin strong #ser criston cole

15 notes · View notes

simpingland · 1 year

Text

Alliance of flowers and wings// Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell!fem!oc

When Aemond offers Lyassandre Tyrell a visit to Highgarden, she doesn't expect the gentlemen he really his, little does she know, Aemond wants something out of the smartest lady on court.

Aemond interacts with a kid and a lizard and I made it cute.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lyssandre was caught up walking around the forbidden halls of the Keep, again. She wasn't very quiet on her footsteps as she was "clueless" about the prohibitions.

"You can't be here, my lady" called a male voice. She wished for anyone but Ser Criston, he was an asshole. When she turned around, she wished for Ser Criston. It was the One-eyed Prince Aemond. She was screwd. With any other guard, it would be easy, she would flirt her troubles away. Just a smile and playing it dumb and they all let her go, no words to the queen. Even Criston Cole believed in her stupidity, little did he know, it was him the stupid one. But Aemond didn't buy it, he never has, not even when she arrived. The moment she saw the half blinded man, she couldn't fake anything, everything inside her went cold, she could barely look at him, it was even worse when she saw him fence for the first time. She learned the story of his dragon, and she didn't wish to meet more of such a cruel boy, now grow into a man.

"Oh, right...Silly me..."she tried to smile but her lips only trembled. "I didn't know that."

"Hum..." again, he could see through her big fat lie. "If you tell me the truth I would have let you go...but people don't hide away their good intentions..." he came closer, slowly.

"What bad intentions could I have, my prince?" She asked, trying to encourage herself.

"Spying? Stealing?" He made a pause, looking at her eyes. "Don't know, people here are very creative. Maybe you went to find someone to fuck..."

Lyssandre started to blush, accusations like that were very dangerous for a lady in waiting, she might be flirty but the Seven knew, she wanted a good match as a husband. "I beg you, do not think of me as something other than a noble lady, my prince...I would never do such a thing."

"My brother Aegon is a prince, higher lord than you...and you couldn't keep track of the amount of places he has jerked off..." he said, a little anger in his voice. "I'm glad I found you, my lady...I've been sent to Oldtown".

"Well, I wish you a good trip then", she bowed and started to walk away. But the prince hold her forearm, not roughly, but she was forced to stop.

"Highgarden is in the middle of the road, Lady Tyrell" he explained. "It's been long since your departure, am I correct?"

"Almost three years, my prince". She felt a quick and sharp feeling of nostalgia, her sister was a baby when she left, and her room was way prettier than the boring one she was given in the Red Keep.

"I can let you there, while I visit my brother Daeron. I would take you back here on my return". He let her arm go, staring with apparent uninterest as she thought about it.

"Well...it's a very generous offer..." it was, but travelling was long and she hated ships and carriages weren't much better. And also, she would be with Aemond Targaryen, the only person able to make her uncomfortable in the entire King's Landing.

"The journey will be short. Only a day, and I will stay in Oldtwon for two weeks".

Two weeks? That's a very good amount of time...wait...

"Only a day of travelling? But the roads are long and horses can't ride all day"

Aemond smirked, somethings Lyssandre only saw on his training sessions and they weren't very usual. "We won't ride, Lyssandre, we'll fly".

Before she couldn't even process it, they were waking her up early in the morning a couple of days later. Her clothes in a box, and a cloak. When she met Aemond, he was saying goodbye to the Queen, he stared at the dress of the Tyrell girl.

"This was my biggest dress, my prince...the only one that...might...not break apart ",she explained. He only smirked and hummed, as always, walking way ahead of her. But the walk had no perdition, Vhagar was very visible, waiting for his rider to fly away.

Aemond could see the girl shaking, and even then she was able to smile at the servants that crossed their way. The dragon's keepers would blush when they helped her to reach the dragon and they treated her belonging with extra care. Aemond could just watch, amazed at the charms of the girl who has always ignored him. She sat behind him, holding tight, but when Vhagar started to fly, she screamed and the prince almost choked at the tightness of the grip, her arms around his waist. It was a messy start, he felt her head hidding in his back, and once Vhagar stopped moving his wings, she separated a little.

"Are you enjoying the flight, Lady Tyrell?"

"Ye..yes...are we there yet?"

"Open your eyes and see" of course, even giving his back, he would have guessed that Lyssandre had her eyes tightly clossed. When she opened them, she screamed again, but it was shorter. Aemond laughed shamelessly but the views were stunning. They were very, very high...but the sky was clean, the mountains green and the sea would appear far away. "The gods and the dragons has this one thing in common...they see the world in all it's glory...and Targaryens are chosen to enjoy it".

And now Lyssandre was the chosen one to enjoy it as well...no Tyrell has walked on the sky, but she was the first one, maybe, just maybe, she was making history at this very moment, thanks to Aemond. She couldn't speak, so she just enjoyed the rest of the ride, letting Aemond speak every now and then. The sun was just beginning to dissappear when Highgarden was reached. Now she understood, she got a complete idea of the beauty her house holded. She recognised her castle far away, even her window. Aemond, aware of the fascination of the lady, made Vhagar fly three times around, letting her joy more than once her own home as the gods saw it.

When they landed, they walked for bit long, leaving that gigantic dragon behind. "I hope they have pie... I'm dying to eat again a pie made by Elwa..." she mumbled, more to herself than for Aemond.

"A pie? One of the most exotic lands in the Seven Kingdoms and you wish for pie?" Asked the prince, he has, in fact, payed attention. She would joke about it, but she didn't know where to draw the boundaries with the prince, and it was better not to risk his sympathy when you needed him later.

When they reached the castle, Lady Tyrell ran to the door. Her husband followed and run, only to stop his wife. They were a few inches apart, smiles on the Tyrell women, but Lord Tyrell knew that the correct manner to treat royalty was to give them priorities, then they would greet their daughter.

"Prince Aemond...what an honor to have you here with us...Let us host you, show our respect" said the men. He had the same hair as his daughter, same color in their eyes, but Lyssandre was all her mother, even the hidding grin was identical.

"Yes, my prince, we'd received a message but we didn't expected you so soon" she spoke. She was sweeter in her manners than her daughter.

A kid run towards Lord Tyrell's legs, hair like Lyssandre but the eyes of the mother.

"Father! A dragon is coming! I saw it, I swear I saw it!" Screamed the girl. Aemond could see in the corner of his eye the change in Lyssandre's expression, she has recognised, her baby sister.

"Hello, Annabella..."she said. "How much you have grown...". The sister went quiet, seeing not only that stranger, but that tall silver Prince beside her.

"The dragon won't hurt you, my dear" calmed her the Lord. "This is prince Aemond, he is son of the King". The kid bowed, clumsy and still scared. "And this young lady here is your sister, Lyssandre" that made her smile, recognising her from all the times her parents would tell about her big sister. Annabella ran to hug her sister.

"I won't bother you, family Tyrell, I was on my way to Oldtown and Highgarden was close. Thought you might wanted to see your daughter for a few days". Aemond felt the feeling of a family that was not his growing inside his chest, but it wasn't terrible feeling, just an odd one.

"It was the kindest of gestures, my prince. You have arrived just in time, I'll tell Elwa to cook more dinner" said lady Tyrell.

"I won't be staying, my lady" said Aemond.

"Oh, please, your grace...it's going to get dark, you must be tired".

"Yes, my prince, it will be an honor to give the prince good food and a good rest" spoke the lord.

"Well..." he looked at Lyssandre, who, for the first time, dedicated him a sincere smile. "I've heard the pies are delicious".

They ate the supper in a improvised little feast. The castle was beautiful, warm colors and the smell of flowers filled the place. Aemond was showed the gardens while Lyssandre visited her room. Lord Tyrell was telling him about some history fact that Aemond already knew when he saw Lyssandre in the distance, hugging what appeared to be Elwa. She giggled at something she was telling her, but this giggle was much more natural than the others he has seen from her. Her eyes looked different there, like if the light was correctly focused on her. The dinner was fun, the food was fantastic and the pie...the pie was something else, she was right. Aemond was interviewed by Lord Tyrell and now the prince understood were the incredible amount of curiosity came from. If it wasn't for Lady Tyrell, Aemond wouldn't have tasted anything from the table, she distracted him, resting the questions a bit. In one of his rest, where the attention was put on Lyssandre, Aemond saw Annabelle picking up her food,cutting a face on her potatoe, not interested in the talk of adults.

"I see you are the only Tyrell in history who mind her own business", whispered Aemond.

The girl went quiet for a moment, looking at him confused, but she smiled. "Look, my potatoe is smiling" She pointed out. This made Aemond smile.

"Wow...what kind of magic is that?" He became invested in the girl's plate.

"It's not magic...I did it with the knife...mother never let me use it".

"Silly her, you've got some serious skills with the weapon...". When Annabella put the knive thought the potatoe again, Aemond made a fake jumpscare that made the girl crack a laugh giggle. They all turned to look at them.

"Annabella, are you using a knife?" Lady Tyrell was trying to hide her annoyance.

"Oh, no, Lady Tyrell, we were just...picking apart her potatoe...I'm making sure she draws a proper face on it".

To that, the woman couldn't say anything. So they continued the dinner with more questions and honors and blessings to the royal family and the fun ended officially when Annabella was sent to bed. She hugged her sister, and she smiled at Aemond. When her mother told her to bow, she couldn't help but giggle, remembering the potatoe that rested still on her plate. The parents bowed too, leaving their daughter be the one guiding the prince around his room.

"Did you enjoy the dinner, my prince?" Asked Lyssandre, side-eyeing the quiet Prince.

"I did...I underestimated the pie you longed so much..." he joked dryly.

"Elwa promised me to bake fifty more once I go back to the Capital. I hope Annabella wasn't much of a bother."

"Not at all...she's quiet, I like that...You are more like your father in spirit...always talking..."

"Gods...was he annoying? I'm so sorry, my prince. He has always talked too much" the girl stopped, trying to make him understand how much she really felt it. But Aemond only fixed his eye on the wall. When she followed his stare she saw it, a little lizard on the wall. "Oh, my prince, don't mind them, they are harmless... but very common around here."

When she took the little thing on her hand, Aemond felt a little admiration, in any other occasion, he would have put that thing away with a knive.

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"If we killed them we would have never know their true nature...sometimes you can go further without violence, my prince." She looked at him, as if trying to speak more words than those. Everyone in the kingdom knew him a sadistic Lord, always close to the sharpest object in the room, restless of training and always wishing for more power.

"Such a clever girl..." he dared to offer his hand, letting her put the little lizard on his hand. "Some people can't risk it for tries and knowledge...to prevent is better than to save."

"That's why you have to be calm and patient, bitting and holding your breath, so you can memorise the right words, which tile to step...that's how you properly learn how to dance."

"I'm afraid I'm not a patient man...I'm a cunning one".

"Why can't you be both?"

"It's not in my blood as Targaryen. Speak sincerely to me, Lyssandre, am i right?"

"Yes, your grace. You are right." She was more confident with her words.

"Would I make a good Lord?"

"I do think so, your grace."

"You wish to see your family often, don't you?" He stared at her, seeing her nod. He trusted her in that hall, where the candles illuminated her serious face, no mask right now, she was being completely honest. "Many Lords let their wives root in their husbands home, caging them in a bed with baths and servants, letting them die at childbirth, missing their childhood home. Are you afraid of a future like that? "

"It's my fate...my prince."

"Hum...no, the gods wouldn't waste you..." he let the lizard go, holding Lyssandre's hand. "Most lords would do that to you...Stupid, idiotic lords...but you think of me a good lord, and I trust you. The wittiest lady on the Keep, maybe in the capital..." Aemond put his face closer to her face. "All this years I saw you walking back every time you saw me, because you were scared of me... That's how I knew you were smart. You have total control of the insects in every corner of the world, you are an observant as much as a charmer, just like a proper Tyrell. A woman who appreciates her origins and is willing to make a difference. A flower crowning a dragon. If you trust me as a good Lord, I would need you beside me, I'll take you wherever you wish, I want your advise, I want your eyes for me, I want your mouth for my use. I'll give you my ears and my wings. Give me wise children and I'll give you powerfull heirs. Let me be yours, Lyssandre."

She couldn't speak, she just blinked, pale and mute. He stared at her, waiting for an answer that never came, as she walked away from him. At the next morning, she could only bow, barely staring at his eye. She watched as he flyed away. Was she that dumb? How did she managed to become such an idiot in just seconds? The only thing she could do about it was spending her time with Annabella, walking and memorising her home. The two weeks went by shortly, as she was incredibly nervous about seeing him again. When he arrived he accepted the invitation right away.

"We have been thinking about an arrangement with Lord Arryn, dear Lys" spoke her mother.

"Lord Arryn? Isn't he...Isn't he an old man?" She had her eyes open wide.

"Well, he is quite mature...but he is having a good season in his gold...and he has heard about your charms..."

Aemond could feel her disappointment. All those days he has replayed that rejection in his mind. He didn't hold bitterness towards the girl. It wasn't her fault she didn't wished to rush in. But now she was scared. Arryn was a great house, but a boring one, far away from the world she has learned to controll. She looked at him, and he did what felt right.

He lower his hand under the table, offering her to take it, she, seeing the hand, blinked and something in her eyes seemed apologetic. She took his hand under the table, they holded tight and she nodded.

"Actually, Lord Tyrell..." he started pulling their locked hands over the table. "I wish to use this reunion to ask for your daughters hand in marriage."

Who dared reject a prince? Not a father of a noble lady. They toasted and clapped, more wine circulated around the table. When the good nights were done, the future couple walked together towards Aemond's room, finishing the walk of last time. When they reached the door, Aemond kissed Lys on the cheek, but she turned her face, making their lips meet. He took her cheeks in her hands, deepening the kiss, passionate and breathtaking. When they separated, he watched her leave, smirking when Lyssandre turned, giving him a wicked smile, knowing well that for now on, they were going to be allies.

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen oc #ewan mitchell #game of thrones fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon x oc #comrade aemond #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen reader

246 notes · View notes

witchthewriter · 1 year

Photo

𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞

ESFP

Slytherin

Chaotic Neutral

The Devil

Gemini Sun, Scorpio Moon, Leo Rising

Trigger Warning for sexual assault.

Also known as Aegon the Elder and Aegon the Usurper, he was the secondborn child and firstborn son of King Viserys I and Queen Alicent Hightower. Aegon never had any interest in the crown, and his days were full of drinking, whoring and gambling.

He was betrothed to his sister, Helaena, ever since they were children. Aegon was heavily against the marriage and never bonded with her, nor their children; Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor Targaryen (nor did he bond with his bastard children).

Although a bit of a drunk, he did bond with the beautiful mount, Sunfyre, a golden dragon that was said to be the most dazzling that had ever lived. Crowds would gather to see the dragon fly by, as his scales glinted in the sunlight.

Straight after Viserys died, the crowning of Aegon happened quickly. Ser Criston Cole, the Lord Commander of the King’s Guard, crowned Aegon II with the Conquorer’s crown.

Aegon II didn’t have a good relationship with his father; barely interacting with him, Viserys’ attention was mainly on Rhaenyra, the small council and his creation in his chambers. And as his disease developed over time, Viserys wasn’t a very good father figure. Blame it on his health, or the fact that he didn’t put the energy into parenting. Either way, Viserys had little to do with his and Alicent’s offspring.

However traumatising Aegon’s upbringing is, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour. His actions towards women were terrible and it is not known how many bastard children he truly had, as he raped many women.

91 notes · View notes

galacticwildfire · 1 year

Text

Sad, Beautiful, Tragic | Alicent Hightower

Two

Alicent Hightower x Targaryen!oc

Their fathers sworn enemies, Viserra and Alicent should never have been as close as they were, yet it was a connection neither could fight. What began as an innocent girlhood companionship becomes something scandalous, with the bastard daughter of Daemon Targaryen showing her true colours. As the dance begins she finds herself torn between her loyalty to her house and her love for her father. Yet neither hold a candle to her forbidden love for the new queen, a love which threatens to destroy them both.

Word count : 4.8k

A/N: wow, I never expected this much interaction with this story, thank you so much!

The sky is crackling with thunder as I fly higher and higher into the clouds and above on Darkfyre, Rhaenyra following on Syrax. An almost daily occurrence. It's the only time I feel truly alive.

When we're forced to return to the ground Alicent stands there, waiting for us as she does every day. Despite our attempts to bring her up with us she insists she is happy as a spectator.

Yet she does not seem happy as Rhaenyra and I walk over to her arm in arm.

"Another pleasant ride?"

"More like a chase," Rhaenyra exclaims, her voice heavy from the exhilaration, no one having tested her as a dragonrider until I came along. "That was fun."

"I don't know about your definition of fun, but we should get inside," Alicent says looking up at the sky and tells us "Rhaenyra, I believe you're required in the small council chamber."

"Right," Rhaenyra says, and quickly goes to ready herself, meanwhile I turn to Alicent.

"Would you like to come with me to the dock to watch the ships come in from Pentos?" I ask her but she merely shakes her head, and I recognise the look in her eyes. "Now?"

"Yes, now," she says, unable to say no to her father, and especially not a king.

Once Rhaenyra returns from the council chambers she asks me to accompany her in choosing a new member of the kingsguard.

Otto stands behind us as we peer over the balcony, standing on stools to see properly. It's quite boring for the most part, but we're both pleasantly surprised to see Ser Criston Cole. It's only when Ser Harrold announces him we're truly paying attention.

"Ser Criston Cole, son of the steward of the Lord of Blackhaven."

Most knights I'm accustomed to are the sons of lords, a noble enough standing, but the son of a steward is almost nothing. Yet he bested my father in combat.

"Be welcome, Ser Criston," Rhaenyra says and we share a glance before she asks "You saw combat in the Stormlands?"

"Dornish marches, princess," he replies, impressive for a man who is so young compared to the other men standing here. "I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. Ser Arlan Dondarrion knighted me after we razed two of the watch towers along the Boneway."

Rhaenyra nods, and it's clear her decision is being waited on so I add "And princess may I add although we both remember it well, that he bested my father Daemon Targaryen at the heir's tournament."

I look down to Criston Cole, a handsome man there's no denying that, one who somehow feels like a match. A man of low standing and yet one with remarkable skill in combat. Rhaenyra and I share a look, both knowing her decision.

"I choose Ser Criston Cole."

I'm smiling to myself as Otto immediately warns "Let's not be too hasty, princess. There's no doubt Ser Criston is a fine warrior, but houses such as Cracknell and Mallister are important allies to the crown-"

"Well Lord Hand, considering you believe my father to be the greatest threat to the king's life you should be glad the princess has chosen a man who bested him in combat," I interrupt much to his displeasure, having found joy in being a thorn in his side.

"Yes," Rhaenyra agrees. "My father should be defended by a man who has known real combat, should he not?"

Begrudgingly he agrees "Of course, princess."

"Well let us plan Ser Criston's investiture then."

We're both smiling as we walk away arm in arm, yet only she is oblivious as to where Alicent is at this moment.

That night I find myself sitting in Alicent's chambers, waiting for her. Unable to deny the discomfort the thought of her alone with Viserys brings me. My uncle is a good man, likely taking the opportunity to show her his model city, glad someone to have someone that listens. But still, it's never sat right with me, and with each day that passes it only worsens.

The heavy door opens and her voice is stiff as she sees me, walking past me to pour herself a cup of wine as she asks "How did it go with Rhaenyra?"

"She chose Ser Criston Cole."

Alicent only sighs. "Of course she did."

"Does that bother you?" I ask, perplexed.

"Aside from the obvious reason he was chosen?"

It seems she's seen her father before coming here. "Because he bested my father in combat?" Her lips purse together, having forgotten that. "Why are you in such a sour mood lately?"

Her voice is tough. "You know why."

And so I walk over to her, taking her hand in mine and lacing my fingers with hers. "Then come forget it for a little while."

The tension slowly leaves her body at my touch, neither of us knows quite why we keep these nights secret from Rhaenyra, but we do. Nights where it's just the two of us.

I hold her close, her touch easing the loneliness inside. It's innocent, but something about it feels like it's for us only to see and no one else. Nights where we lay together, our fingers laced and bodies touching, just to feel some type of comfort.

We lie down on her bed atop the blankets and when I see the tears staining her face she doesn't need to explain why. I wipe them away and touch my forehead to hers. These past months have been difficult for her. Too difficult.

"Every time my father sends me to the king, I'm worried he'll ask things of me I don't want to give," she confesses to me, her voice shaking. "And whenever he sees me his eyes say it all, that I'm not doing enough."

"Then he does not know Viserys," I say quietly. "My fathers told me in his youth the two of them may have made their way through the street of silk but through his marriage to Aemma he never took a mistress, never desired to. He is not that type of man."

"I know, but my father-" she cuts herself off. "He wants me to make a whore of myself when I've never even been kissed. I wouldn't know what to do."

It's then I realise "Now I think of it I wouldn't know either."

She almost laughs at that. "You're you, Viserra Targaryen, of course you'd know."

I know better than her the things that happen in brothels, even if I've never partaken.

"I know I may behave like a man but I've never touched one," I tell her in all honesty, something that somehow surprises her. "I'd much rather ride my dragon." But as I look at her lips I can't help but ask "Have you ever wondered what it would feel like, to kiss someone?"

"Haven't we all?" she replies. "You're free to do whatever you wish, I must remain perfectly chaste."

I raise an eyebrow. "Would anyone know if you weren't?"

"I would," she replies, flustered. "I'd know."

Sex is something I've found myself thinking of often these past months, but it's something I haven't sought out. Perhaps it's guilt, knowing I can do so without consequence whilst for Alicent and Rhaenyra such a thing could destroy their prospects. When I think of it I often think of Ser Criston, wondering what a man's hands would feel like on my body, how rough they'd be opposed to when I'm in Alicent's arms, how chapped a man's lips would feel as opposed to my own lips, a woman's lips. How they'd feel.

How hers would feel.

I find my eyes fixed on them, perfect like the rest of her, and murmur "Is your chastity truly worth more than taking what you want?"

She blinks at me, confused. "What I want?"

I meet her eyes and ask "What is it you want?" She opens her mouth and I follow up. "I don't mean what your father wants, or what you should want. What do you actually want?"

She opens her mouth but struggles for words. "I-" for a moment I swear I see her eyes look to my lips before sitting upright, leaving me without her warmth. "I need a glass of water." She gets up and reluctantly I sit up, watching as she pours one for each of us and stiffly says "Since you're here would you like to help me finish the embroidery on my new dress."

It's the last thing I want to do, but to have an excuse to stay here I agree.

The following morning three of us come to the sept, Alicent and I listening to Rhaenyra's frustrations, but my head is still caught up in last night in Alicent's room and the strange feeling that's lingered like perfume.

"It's only been half a year since my mother died, and already they try to marry my father off and replace me as heir. I know those men and how they plot in their secret councils when I've been sent away."

Alicent and I share a look, Rhaenyra none the wiser. We'd hoped that Otto's attempts would fail, that the visits to Viserys would fizzle out into nothing, but I was wrong. We both were.

"You cannot worry at the matters of lords and kings Rhaenyra," Alicent says, secretly becoming defensive. These past months she's been racked with fear at the thought of Rhaenyra finding out, even to the point I've tried to convince her to tell her herself. But here we are. "What if your father were to remarry?"

Now that catches my attention, it is one thing to entertain a king, it's another to marry him. Alicent struggles to meet my eye and I know this plot is quickly growing stronger, and far more dangerous.

Those words visibly upset Rhaenyra and so I say "Six months is hardly even an appropriate period of mourning. The king lost his beloved wife, no one wise should ask him to even consider it for a long time to come."

Rhaenyra still doesn't speak, while my logic doesn't comfort her, Alicent's words do. "The king loves you. He chose you for his heir."

Rhaenyra's voice is harsh. "He didn't choose me he spurned Daemon." She quickly looks to me in regret. "I'm sorry, I'm not the only one who has lost a parent."

"I haven't lost him," I sigh, having hardly spoken of it. "Your mother died in the childbed and brother in the cradle, my father laughed about it in a brothel and got himself exiled to Dragonstone where he is living with his whore without even the decency to send a letter."

A lie, but not completely. I know very well my safety and the council's trust in me is dependent on my loyalty to Viserys and Rhaenyra, and of no contact with my father. There has been none, except for my fifteenth nameday several months ago. There was no letter, nothing, except for a ring bearing the sigil of our house. A reminder from him that despite my birth, despite the fact at barely sixteen he'd impregnated my mother and yielded a bastard, I'm still his daughter, I'm still a Targaryen. And most importantly not to forget it.

Her voice is as gentle as it gets. "But he is still your father."

It's then Alicent, feeling we are all grieving something guides us over to where the candles are lit to pray. "Kneel with me."

It's a command we do not refuse, each of us kneeling on either side of her, being in a holy space so strange to us, and engaging with it even stranger.

Alicent's voice shakes a little. "I find this is a way to be with my mother. Here in the quiet of the sept I feel close to her." She backtracks knowing neither of us have faith like she does. "I know it sounds foolish."

"I don't think it's foolish," Rhaenyra says and I quickly follow.

"It isn't, it's sweet," I say, giving her a small smile and she nods, returning it.

"Good, because I thought you both might try."

She passes us each a stick of incense, and notices our hesitation.

"If not for me, then for them," she says and looks to me. "For all our mothers."

My mother, Jeyne, daughter of Lord Egan. A man of a small house sworn to House Arryn and the Vale, although they disowned her when she fell pregnant. Yet she grew up companion to Aemma, and it was her love for my mother that spared us both from ruin. It was her love that kept me cared for when my mother died in the childbed until my father came, a young man of sixteen tempted to let me bear the fate of the bastard. He'll never admit it, but I know it was by Aemma's insistence that he claimed me as his.

We light the incense, and I stare through the smoke at the flames. Yet it is not my mother I mourn, but my father. He's had stints like this over the years, but not this long, not without me. Even if that part is my own fault. Yet I cannot regret it when I have Alicent and Rhaenyra beside me. Rhaenyra is my sister but Alicent... Alicent has become my confidante and I her's.

I come out of my daze to see Rhaenyra in tears. "I want him to see me as more than his little girl."

Alicent tries to assure her "Mine own father does not know the language of girls either."

"Well you both know mine so that should go without saying."

I manage to make them both laugh a little, but in truth I wish that my father would just see me as his little girl. Not as his dragon rider or heir to nothing or fighter. Just his little girl. If he did then perhaps he wouldn't do the things he does.

It's when Alicent speaks that I go quiet. "When I wish to talk with him, I know that I must make the effort."

I'm quiet as they continue to pray, something Alicent notices for that night she comes to my rooms, just her.

Again I'm looking through incense into a candle flame, as if I could be a dreamer, but I'm not, unfortunately I inherited my fathers mind for realism.

"You were quiet earlier," she begins. "I know you didn't want to say anything since Rhaenyra was already upset..." she comes over and sits beside me on the long armchair. "You can talk to me."

I shake my head, the irony of it all making me mad. "You and Rhaenyra, despite the difficulties with your fathers you can speak to them... my father has so many enemies here at court that if I spoke with him they'd twist it into something ugly, a conspiracy."

"Is that what you want?" she asks me. "To speak with him?"

"I want him here," I say, my voice strained as I look at her. "I have everything I could need except for my father. He- he's all I've ever truly had. I never had my real mother nor her family, the closest thing to that was the queen and now she's gone that leaves my father, who is also gone. Banished."

Alicent offers "I could speak with the king-"

Immediately I reach for her hand, shaking my head. "No, don't do that."

She's confused. "Why not?"

"Because it is a dangerous thing to do, what you do now is dangerous enough but to involve yourself in such matters could put you in harms way."

While I'm worried she dismisses it. "My father has already done that."

I look down at our joined hands, a strange ache in my heart, a rage barely hidden. "I hate him for what he's done to my father, for what he's done to you."

I've never said it so frankly before, but it's hardly a surprise to her. "The king must remarry, he's merely put me in his sight."

I still at her resignation which has become almost acceptance. "Except you do not want it." She doesn't say a word as she looks down at her hands, her nails bloodied. "Tell me you don't want it."

She opens her mouth, but struggles with words. "I-" She stumbles over them and I let go of her hand and get to my feet, standing over her. "Viserra."

"You'd be betraying Rhaenyra," I say, having supported her in this until now. "You came to me half a year ago in tears because your father wanted you to comfort the king, and now- now you're telling me if he were to take a new wife you would want it to be you?"

"No," she quickly says, jumping up. "I never said that."

But something's changed in her eyes since that night. "But your father has."

She purses her lips together, picking at her nails until she blurts out "He doesn't have to."

I look down at her hands and grab them, holding them tight in my own. "It's me Alicent. I know you don't want this, I know you're trying to accept your fate but there's still a way out of this."

She blinks at me confused. "How?"

That is the question I hoped she wouldn't follow up with. "We'll find a way."

Now she's the one to shake her head at me as she rips her hands away and steps back. "You would sooner get yourself exiled trying."

"Then I'll get myself exiled," I say without hesitation, not understanding this feeling which I can only label as fear, not fear of exile, but fear of losing her.

"No-"

"I would."

"You wouldn't."

"I would," I insist, knowing it's the truth but she stares at me with wide eyes as if I'm mad. "You know I would."

"I know you're reckless," she says, stepping closer to me. "I know you pretend not to be, you pretend to be a lady to keep everyone happy but I know what you are. I might be the only person who does."

I step closer, challenging her. "And what's that?"

She's as angry as I've ever seen her, and I could almost smile at having brought it out, brought out what I know is beneath her pretty face but I could not expect the words that come from her mouth "I know you're in love with Rhaenyra."

She catches me not just off guard, but leaves me utterly stunned. "What?"

She stands her ground. "Why else would you stay here when your father was exiled?" I'm that blindsided I cannot even think let alone form words as her voice shakes with what I can only call jealousy. "I see how you look at her, I see you two together when you fly on dragonback, I've been a witness watching for months-" She pauses, as if questioning if she's going too far but she knows she's already crossed whatever line there was between us. "My father... he warned me long ago that you- that you favour women."

I blink at her, the mention of Otto waking me up "Well then he must know my heart better than I for that is news to me."

She just shakes her head at me. "Don't deny it, we both know it to be true."

Except I don't. "I-"

She cuts me off again. "I've seen how you look at Rhaenyra and she at you, is this the reason you're so adamant about me not marrying the king? Because you cannot bear the thought of betraying her?"

Again, an accusation that is news to me and I cannot help the disgust that edges my words. "You- you think I'm in love with Rhaenyra?"

She just looks at me as if I'm an idiot. "I know it." I open my mouth, unable to even begin to find the words to tell her how wrong she is, but again she speaks in my place. "I'm not blind, I saw it long before my father ever did."

"Otto," I begin, my voice thick. "Otto decides to slander me by painting me as what? Some heinous girl who seduces her friends?"

It's then I see panic cross her face. "No- I didn't mean-"

"And to accuse me of being in love with Rhaenyra," it's that part that truly bewilders me. "She is a sister to me, an annoying sister who I fight with but love dearly as kin, I could never see her as anything but that." I look at Alicent, who's turned pale. "How could you think that?"

"I-" it's only now she stumbles over her words. "I shouldn't have said anything."

Before I can reach for her she's running towards my door and I'm calling out her name "Alicent!"

She runs out, but if she thinks I won't follow her she's dead wrong.

I chase after her, calling out her name as she runs down the hall in the dead of night but I'm faster and catch her wrist. "Alicent!"

She looks back at me with tears in her brown eyes, something which only bewilders me more. "I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry, please- please forget it."

But I just stare at her with wide eyes and exclaim "How? How can I possibly forget that?"

"Please, I'm asking you- I'm begging you Viserra please-"

It's then a shrewd voice rings out and we both see Otto walking towards us. "Let go of my daughter!"

But something possesses me and I pull her behind me, defiant. "No."

He stops in front of us and threatens "Let her go before I call the guards."

I just laugh dangerously, something which unnerves him. "Is that what you think I am, a heinous bastard who seduces noble lords daughters?"

"I know you are."

Without thinking, without even a shred of sense, I reach for her face and bring her lips to mine. It's brief yet everything I dreamed it would be, the feeling of a woman's lips on my own, but overshadowed by the realisation that in a single moment I know I've thrown us both into the flames.

She stares at me, wide eyed and speechless as it dawns on me what I've done and I look to Otto who gapes at us in pure disgust.

"I will-"

"What?" I taunt, calling his bluff as I let go of Alicent to challenge him. "Tell the king? I think we both know you wouldn't dare."

He'd never risk his daughter's reputation, never risk her chances of becoming queen for his own hatred for me, no matter how tempting. Without looking back at Alicent I push past him, blood pumping and head light as I march back to my chambers. The moment the door closes behind me it's as if a wave has come over me.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I curse under my breath as the weight of what I've done hits. I'm trembling, not out of fear of repercussions from Otto or the king. But of Alicent. Of what this means for us.

My first instinct isn't self-preservation, but escape.

I'm leaving tonight.

Quickly I change into my riding clothes, leaving my crimson dress discarded on the floor as I grab my dagger, securing it around my waist before making my escape from the castle and to the dragon pit. The dragon keepers don't question me as I bring Darkfyre out and mount her, going the only place I've ever gone when in trouble. To my father.

Before I even know what I've done Dragonstone is in the distance, and I land atop the bridge leading to the castle, climbing down from Darkfyre, unable to hear the sound of my own feet running in the darkness over the pounding of my heart.

Knowing there's no such thing as a quiet entrance with a dragon I run inside calling out for him despite the hour. The Goldcloaks don't dare to stop me.

"Father!" I cry out, and it's only then the tears come to me, a scared girl longing for her fathers assurance. "Father!"

There's a hand on my arm and I look to see Ser Harwin. "Princess?"

"I need to see my father," I say, suddenly aware of my current state and how I must look, and he quickly guides me through the throne room where goldcloaks have summoned my father.

It's there he runs in, utterly bewildered to see me here but he doesn't ask questions as the goldcloaks vacate the room, taking me into his arms making sure I'm not hurt.

"I fucked up," I cry into his shirt, knowing those words I've always been able to say to him if no one else. "I've ruined everything."

He pulls back, hands on my shoulders, voice firm "Did you kill someone?"

I look up at him, struggling for breath as I confess "I kissed Alicent."

His eyes roll that far into the back of his head as he lets me go, muttering "You wake me up at this hour..."

"Father, this is serious," I insist, biting back my tears. "Otto Hightower thinks I'm a heinous seductress determined to corrupt his daughter."

I watch as he simply sits back on the throne, forehead in his hands. "Otto, what the fuck does Otto have to do with it?"

"I had a fight with Alicent and Otto found me running after her and accused me of trying to seduce his daughter so I- I kissed her."

He looks up, hiding a smile behind his hand. "Well are you?"

"Of course not!" I exclaim and he raises his hands in his defence, amused. "Why are you laughing?"

"So, Otto accuses you of seducing his daughter, and you go and prove him right by seducing his daughter."

My body is stiff as I insist. "I did not seduce Alicent!"

"Why not, if everyone's accusing you of it why not do it?"

"Because I don't-" I cut myself off but he just waits for me to finish. "I don't have those predispositions."

He scoffs "Bullshit."

I gape at him. "What do you mean bullshit?"

He chuckles. "Must I point out the obvious?"

I glare at him which only makes him laugh more. "Stop it."

"Stop what? You're the one that's arrived here on dragonback in the middle of the night screaming bloody murder because you kissed a girl," he remarks. "And I'd almost forgotten you were fifteen. So to clarify, you kissed Alicent in front of Otto."

"Yes-" he laughs, enjoying this too much.

"Oh to see the look on his face, well done."

"Well done?" I repeat. "Is that truly all you have to say?"

"Well what else is there?" he asks me. "You finally realised you want to fuck Alicent Hightower and half succeeded whilst pissing off that old cunt so well done."

"I don't want to-" I cut myself off, more frustrated than upset now at least. "I don't want to fuck girls."

He just sighs, shaking his head at me as if I'm an idiot. "Yes you do, don't deny it. If you stopped arguing with me for five seconds you'd see it."

And so I shut up, and indeed it does only take five seconds for me to realise just what that strange feeling I've been harbouring all these months is.

"Shit."

He just watches on amused as it finally dawns on me after all these months, after all these years of craving a woman's touch, craving hers. But- but I've always found men attractive, just none have ever managed to hold a candle to her.

All this time I've asked her what she wants, without ever stopping to consider for a moment what it is I want. Perhaps it's because whenever the words have left my tongue she's been right there in front of me, already there.

Until now.

I look at my father, realising what I've just revealed about myself and ask "You aren't- you aren't angry?"

He just raises his eyebrows at the question. "Do you think I'm Otto? Of course not. I'm just glad it's not Ser Crispin you're crying over."

"But I- I still think I like men," I say, confused but certain of that much and he curses.

"So close."

It's then we're interrupted by his whore.

"Has it been done?" Daemon asks her and she nods. "Good. Time you properly met my daughter. Viserra, this is Mysaria, Mysaria, my daughter Viserra."

"Princess," she says, her voice foreign, and excuses herself as quickly as she came. She's still here with him after six months, that alone shocks me.

"Do you love her?" I ask my father, and he merely shrugs.

"I like her company enough."

I never understood his animosity for Rhea Royce, I always admired her, and she was always kind to me. But I can say now I've never understood love, never understood what it must be to be forced into another's heart until I saw Alicent being forced to the king's chambers.

It's then I confess to my father "Otto is plotting to make Alicent queen."

He pauses, taken aback. "They're plotting to replace Aemma already?"

"With Alicent," I say, needing someone to share my anger. "Otto wants his daughter to be queen, he's had Alicent visiting the king for months now."

He stews on it. "Otto that bastard, of course he has."

"How do I stop it?" I ask him and he looks up at me in surprise. "I don't care about the consequences, she doesn't want this, so tell me how I can stop it."

With those words he looks at me with a newfound pride. "You'll likely get yourself exiled."

"I don't care," I say as quickly as I did when Alicent said those same words. "I- I can't watch her marry him."

I won't. I won't watch Alicent marry my uncle, I won't watch her be forced to have children that would replace Rhaenyra. It's always been the three of us, we swore allegiance to Rhaenyra. I won't let Otto destroy everything. No matter the cost.

Taglist

slvtfornat readerinsert-coll courtney0-0 feartheclipse coffee-d0t curiouser-an-curiouser geekgreek03 0151imagayone wandapologist tiredgayhours grungebabyblu soulmateshuh avmsstuff racistuffs ladyqueenxoxo chickennugget468 darkenedlittlecorner marines938 bubblylesbianblonde umictrl gay-vet-student scottlangswife slvtfornat knightofbutterflies sad-x3 girlmythlegend ireadtofeel minaxcarter kai-kaii butlifegoeson98 pandoraboxofgay sweetflowercupcake thatmysteriousblog wxnchic steamhead15 leniabranch satans-worstnightmare deeznutzs-stuff kamilahs-smolbean artemiscastle paola2001 chynagirl13 rosaryos endless-dth llovinjoonie shedrewthehallelujah 71wm blackundertaker ireadtofeel tired-ninfa freshmoneyalmondathlete girlmythlegend starless-starkov pandoraboxofgay levis-butterfingers freshmoneyalmondathlete jedi-athen-orion mlwriting5 memarrymilf megagayzone90 cupcakeexplosion pawiiefreshmoneyalmondathlete levis-butterfingers sansaery-theonsa soulmateshuh luckyplums1 mlwriting5 memarrymilf cupcakeexplosion

190 notes · View notes

sweetestpieces · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Giantess!Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Giantess, Size Difference, brewing romance, fluff(?), idk, first time writing fic, major changes to canon, slow

Length: 1.1k

Summary: You struggle for the princess's attention with little success. (Part 2 of ???)

GIF credit: 1: Unknown. 2: zen-coleman

You can find Part 1 here.

While highborn men often vexed you whenever they attempted to woo the princess, none of them irked you nearly as much as Lady Alicent Hightower. Alicent had been at court far longer than you’d been maid to Rhaenyra and her father Otto being lord hand to the king meant Alicent was practically a princess in her own right. Her dresses were elegant, her manners ladylike and proper, and she had the one thing that bothered you the most, a true friendship with the princess.

Even on your first day of service, it was clear the two girls were close. From sunrise to sundown if Rhaenyra had no obligations during the day, it was safe to assume she was somewhere with Alicent roaming the castle. Most often you’d find them in the godswood chatting and giggling together or reading from the great books kept in the keep’s library.

One morning Rhaenyra requested you to bring tea to the godswood. You found both highborn girls beneath the white tree, Alicent sitting with her back to the trunk, a large book in her lap. Rhaenyra rested on the ground, her head also in Alicent’s lap looking up at her as they spoke about some lord or other. You felt your skin go slightly hotter and paused in the archway to appear unbothered as you approached them. “You’re so kind,” Rhaenyra said as she sat up. You stood there as both girls took the cups from the tray. Not sure if you should stay or go, you politely stood off to the side silently hoping the princess might ask you to stay. “Thank you, Y/N. You may go.” Your heart sunk. Surely the princess didn’t mean anything by it. You knew you were finding a bad habit of thinking that you were anything more to the princess than a servant. Sure she might have occasionally sought you out for advice or told you something in confidence, but is that not a responsibility of handmaids? To listen?

Your thoughts kept returning to that day she cried to you and really opened up. The way she held you close and spoke about her father and his stubbornness. She spoke about how she wasn’t ready to marry and how she was feeling immense pressure to do so quickly. Strangely you recall the feeling and sweet lavender smell of her hair as she tucked her head under your chin. You remember how it felt to be held, warm, safe. It was something you wanted to feel again. So, you knew you needed to get her attention.

You started bringing her snacks and drinks unasked. She seemed surprised whenever you’d enter her chambers carrying a dish full of grapes or figs. “Oh, you’re so kind, Y/N.” You’d wait beside her hoping for more interaction, for her to speak to you unprompted. But she’d always resume whatever she was doing when you came in, and you’d leave disappointed once again.

It felt like her opening up to you was an accident, an abnormality in either of your lives. Maybe it was only because you were there and not who you were to the princess. If Alicent had been there instead of you, Rhaenyra likely would have acted the same, maybe even more emotionally. You weren’t a safe space for her, just a convenient one.

She made you feel even more invisible when you passed her in the hallways. The corridors of the Red Keep were of decent size, wide enough for three soldiers to walk abreast with little issue. Walking with the princess down them was another situation, however. You were taking silverware from the king’s quarters back to the kitchen when you heard the princess’s voice echoing down the hall. Her Grace and Ser Criston Cole walked together, the princess towering over the gallant knight, laughing at something he’d said. The two of them walking together left no room for anyone to pass by. She must not have seen you approaching and just as you were about to curtsy to her, the bottom half of her dress practically swallowed you whole. You were pushed against the stone wall trying to keep hold of all the plates and knives while silk pushed against your face, blinding you, practically suffocating you.

Soon it was over without even a glance from the princess. You hoped she simply hadn’t noticed you and that she wasn’t intentionally ignoring you, but you didn’t have the bravery to ask and returned to the task at hand.

On the morning of Lady Alicent’s name day, the king proposed a small gathering of the court for dinner and festivities. It was an extravagant yet modest affair with no reservations about the finest dishes and entertainment but to a crowd of no more than twenty. You, among other servants of the royal house, were on duty throughout the day by tending to any needs of the party guests.

The princess and Lady Alicent were practically attached at the hip, as was usual. Only once did the princess break away from the event, after Alicent announced her engagement to a highborn lord from the west. You watched her excuse herself from the dais and go out one of the servants' doors. You don’t know what compelled you but you took your tray with you and followed the way she went. You watched her pass through the kitchen keeping her head low as she made her way through the smaller corridors.

An idea came to you. You stopped to clear your tray in the kitchen and found one of the princess’s large goblets, nearly twice the size of a regular one, organized on a shelf. You filled it with Arbor red, set it on the tray, and went looking for her.

She was where you expected her to be, standing beneath the godswood and gazing past one of the arches towards the city. She didn’t hear you approach so you carefully said, “My lady.”

She turned to you. “Oh, Y/N. What are you doing here?”

Your heart was already racing in your chest just speaking to her. You opened your mouth to speak, once again stricken into near-paralysis from being so close to someone of her size. “I-I thought you might be thirsty.” It was the best excuse you could come up with on the spot.

The princess considered you carefully and took the cup. It looked normal-sized in her hand. She briefly peered into it and said, “I like you, Y/N.” She drank from the cup and turned her attention back to the city. “Thank you for the wine.”

You hesitated to leave, lingering just a little longer in hopes she might continue speaking to you, but she didn’t. You clutched the tray tight and walked back into the keep somehow feeling happier and sadder than when you arrived.

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x y/n #giantess #size #size fic #giantess fic #g/t #g/t fluff #g/t writing #fanfic #romance #fluff #hotd fic #g/t fiction

116 notes · View notes