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librosamarillos · 1 year

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passed down like folk songs

chapter 16: a prayer

Maegor Targaryen x OC

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Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

Visenya was getting a headache. Even for her, things were getting overwhelming these days, with her correspondence to lords near the rebel areas to gather arms and support, then her nephew crumbling down as soon as the crown sat upon his head, and now her son was getting out of control. Part of her was glad he was going to war, to take out all his anger in a more productive way to their house, without killing off a former prince of Casterly Rock. She was making her way to Rowan’s chambers to talk about her decision. She did selfishly want her to stay, regardless of Maegor, because then she’d have someone who understood her in her grief and her frustration.

It was a difficult decision to make, she didn’t blame her for taking a long time to think it all through, she was being realistic. It would be exhausting. It was exhausting for her to be around her own husband with Rhaenys around. It drained her entirely to hold her head up high and keep up appearances, despite everyone knowing the truth. The situation was not the same, but she had been in a position where she had to pretend to be fine, she could understand her. Perhaps even help her.

Through the years she noticed that when Rowan was upset, she preferred to be alone to calm down. She’d hurt herself, picking at her nails, sometimes to the point where they were red and bloody. It wasn’t often, but she always knew when it happened. Maegor was the exact opposite, his anger was explosive, dangerous and violent. She recalled back to her own youth and her own explosive anger, knowing she somehow passed it onto her son. She wasn’t sure what to do yet, but she could not let him go on like this.

It was almost funny how quickly the two had become friends as children, seeing as when they had first met, they were awkward around each other. They were both hurting back then, Rowan with the loss of her mother, Maegor with the realisation that he’d never have a father. Somehow they helped each other so much, it hurt her to see them both so miserable. She wondered if Aegon could see how miserable their son was, all because of his decision. Would he even care? When had he ever cared about their boy?

Before she could even knock, Rowan opened the door, surprised to see her standing there, but met her with a smile.

“Your grace! I was just about to come find you!” she was smiling brightly, clearly in a good mood.

“It’s good I came by then. May I come in?” Visenya shook away the thoughts of her husband, as she was hoping for good news.

“Of course! Please, come in.” Rowan opened the door further, heading in after her to pull out a chair for her to sit in.

“No need to be so formal here, I actually prefer when you aren’t.” she sat down, making herself comfortable as the young girl nodded and did the same. “Have you decided?”

At the question, Rowan nodded again, the smile not leaving her face, filling Visenya with hope for the first time in a while.

“I’ll do it. Even if things get difficult, I want to stay by your side. I want to help you.” she said, her expression determined.

Visenya let herself smile a relaxed smile. She felt relieved at her words. Rowan was always there, as much as she could’ve been as a young girl and to hear her make the choice to stand by her, now as a young woman, it brought her a great amount of both relief and joy.

“I’m glad to hear you say that. I’ll assume your father already knows?” she didn’t need to ask, in truth, as the two were always on the same page.

“Of course, I’d never make a decision that big without him knowing.” Rowan said.

“I didn’t doubt it. I’m happy I’ll have you around.”

“I’m happy to have you around as well. I always miss you when I return home.” she admitted, twirling the ring on her index finger mindlessly. “What will my duties be?”

“Nothing you haven’t done before. You’ll be helping me around, as a scribe, a helper, you’ll understand once you get the hang of things. I have no doubt you’ll do great.” she explained, paying attention to Rowan’s slightly scratched fingers, choosing to not bring it up just yet.

“I’m flattered to hear you have such confidence in me, your grace. I will not let you down.” she smiled brightly once more.

Ceryse felt excited for the first time in forever, having a girlish smile spread across her face as she held the long awaited letter from her brother, Morgan. She knew her eldest brother would be busy with everything happening, but Morgan always made time to write to her.

Dearest sister,

I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. Know that we all miss you terribly, especially I, because with whom shall I make fun of Martyn with?

Things are well here. You’ve received father’s letters, I assume, so you know he’s been well. He and Martyn are in full swing preparing Martyn to take over, just so he’s prepared. I think the King’s sudden death made him worry, I cannot blame him for it, but he has gotten quite grim. Our goodsister is doing well too, as well as little Norman is growing into a happy toddler, who misses you so much. He’s looking more and more like Anne every day, which is a good thing, since he did not inherit Martyn’s nose. There’s hope for the little one.

Our uncle’s health has been slowly declining, which may not surprise you, due to his age, but he insists he is alright. I’ve had to drag him out of the Starry Sept to the maesters to help with his cough, but he refuses to admit he is ill. I do think he will be well, but I do also think you should come visit all of us soon.

Things with me are the same as always. If I keep it up, word has it I will become a commander soon. I do hope you’ll be proud of me once that comes to fruition! I’d hate to repeat myself and state the obvious, but I have missed you dearly, we all have. I would hope once things settle, and should your husband not be too busy, that he would allow you to visit your home and family, who love you so much.

News of rebellion has reached you all, I am sure, but worry not. I assure you, as I am sure so has father, that we are more than safe in Oldtown. It’s you we worry about, in that slum of a city. Are you well? Healthy? I hope at least you’ve made friends there and aren’t going through it alone. I hope to see you soon, dear sister.

Your favourite brother,

Morgan.

Ceryse’s smile was a saddened one. Morgan’s words made her heart hurt, hearing of her family missing her as she had missed her, how her little nephew was growing healthy, how she missed her goodsister, her brothers, her father, even her uncle, who was the one who was responsible for her being so far away. She worried for Morgan. Should the rebellions become more serious, he would be expected to fight, and the idea of that was enough to make her shake with worry. The idea of anyone in her family being harmed in battle would reduce her to tears.

She could not say the same about her husband, as the idea of him being harmed did not phase her. She had hoped after a year of marriage that she could at least call herself his friend, but that was not their case. She barely knew anything about him that was not common knowledge in court. He still scared her, but he also infuriated her. He barely spoke to her, scowled when he was in her vicinity, yet visited her nightly to perform their duty. She was no lovesick fool, she never expected a love story in her marriage, but she had at least hoped for someone she could hold a conversation with.

And his little tantrum the other night had solidified that he’d never hold up as the man she’d hoped for. He was a fucking child, angry that things did not happen the way he wanted and took it out on people around him. Did he not think she was angry to be stuck with him? To be stuck with this moody, dangerous man for the rest of her days? She would not be praying for his safe return in the sept, of that she was sure. She knew he would not allow her to visit Oldtown, not when she hadn’t given him what he wanted.

She hated it, but his words did sting her. She was seven and twenty, most women by her age already had two or three children already. So what was wrong with her? Motherhood was something that was expected of her, ever since she could remember, it wasn’t something she was looking forward to, rather something that she feared. How many women had she heard of that died on the childbed, or went through a horrific birth that affected them for the rest of their lives? Perhaps the idea of being safe from such a fate should bring her relief, but a bigger part of her was saddened and eager to have a little one of her own. Her little nephew Norman was such a darling, being around him filled her with such joy. Having her own child would get her annoying husband off her back, but also bring her happiness in this miserable castle.

Lana would eventually marry, she was of age and absolutely beautiful, and Rowan’s days will be filled with whatever her goodmother forced her to do, before she eventually married as well, meaning both of her friends would be gone, leaving her alone. She hoped the Dowager Queen would keep her friend around, so she’d have her near for longer. Ceryse supposed she should feel jealous that her friend was chosen by the former Queen, but in all honesty, she found her so unpleasant to be around, she did not envy Rowan at all. She was someone who made friends easily and was pleasant to be around, she did not doubt she’d last longer than the previous ladies that got dismissed at the first error. Perhaps Lana could secure a position in court as well, so that all three of them could remain close.

She took a piece of parchment and her quill, to write back to her brother. She wrote of her news, what she knew of the King’s plans, how the city was, how she was spending her days, the newest book she had been reading, but she did not mention her husband. What would she write about him anyway? Yes, he’s still insufferable and I hate to be around him, but the sex is okay because at least she didn’t have to look at him during the act? She couldn’t say such things, not to anyone, he’d have her tongue cut out. She just wrote he’d be leading the battle in the Vale soon and left it at that. No one but her father and uncle had asked her about potential pregnancies in their letters, but her brothers understood that she’d tell them should she have news, which made her even more grateful that Morgan did not mention it at all, so she did not write of her worries. Her brothers knew her well.

The days passed by quickly and Rowan was enjoying the routine. She would break her fast with Visenya, then help her arrange and send out letters to lords for their support. She was truly the one in charge instead of the King. Ruling suited her so well, like she was born to command a room. Rowan did not know many women in history that got to claim such a title. She would always accompany her when she met with Aenys, who seemed to remember her a bit from their very brief encounters in their youth. Sometimes, Maegor would be there, and she feared she would forget to breathe, so she only focused on writing down all that the Dowager Queen told her to.

Visenya was very much still grieving. Rowan wasn’t sure if the former Queen knew that, but it was clear to her. The way she’d linger in certain spots of her chambers and solar, where Rowan would picture she would spend most time with her late husband. The chair he would sit at was always empty, reserved for him alone, certain items she was told not to move at all, so they stayed as he left them, the two books on her nightstand. One she could see was of herbs, something she and the Queen would talk about when she was a girl, to help teach her Valyrian. The other book, she could not make out the title, as only the worn out spine was visible from beneath the other. It must be something personal and sentimental, for as complicated and hurtful as he was, Visenya loved Aegon. But if Rowan was honest with herself, she wanted to throw those books in his face for crushing her all these years. She tried to brighten the rooms up with flowers, by letting the light and fresh air in. It seemed to work, for the most part, but perhaps company was what Visenya needed.

The day of Maegor’s leave was fast approaching and she grew even more nervous than ever. He’d be so far away, in battle, not training or sparring, true battle that could get him truly hurt. Rowan was still angry at what he said to Ceryse, trying to understand why in the world he’d say such a horrible thing. They hadn’t had any time to talk in private, for they were both busy with everything happening around them. She had hoped to see him, at least before he left, because no matter how angry she was, she could never set aside her love for him. She had stayed up late for a few days to carve out a small wooden sword, a pin, a prayer to the Warrior for protection. She just wished to give it to him.

She carried it in her pocket everywhere she went, should the chance present itself. It was stressful and it felt wrong, to wish so badly to be around him in such secrecy, despite them not doing anything ‘wrong’. But it was all wrong. How would she feel if her own husband had done this with someone else? Would she not be crushed completely? She kept telling herself she only wanted to wish her friend well in battle.

She had just delivered the last batch of the Dowager Queen’s letters to the maester to send with the ravens, and now all that was left was to tidy up the solar. Visenya was meeting with her nephew, surely to scold him on something, so Rowan took her time to walk back. She passed through the training grounds and could hear from a distance, an all too familiar booming voice, yelling at the knights, about their stance and forms. She hesitated for a moment, but she went ahead a bit closer to the balcony, since it was getting a bit dark and it was quite empty. It wouldn’t be too bad to be seen here, would it? Surely most people would be curious about the knights training, right?

She quietly stood by the side of a pole, hiding slightly from view. But that did not stop Maegor’s eyes from finding her right away, as if he was waiting on high alert to spot an intruder. Rowan’s eyes went wide, ashamed that he had seen her so easily, but his eyes did not linger on her for long. He kept commanding knights to attack him with all their strength, then he fought them off like a wild beast. She was worried, as he was not wearing any proper fighting gear to protect him, just a white shirt that was soaked with sweat, clinging onto his torso and arms. She felt like a complete pervert with how hot her face felt, playing nervously with the cuff of her sleeve.

She stood there, frozen on the spot, unable to move, or tear away her eyes from him, with how animalistic his moves were, or the dangerous, hungry look in his eyes. She should leave, she really should. She took a deep breath and turned to leave, wanting to slap herself for even coming here. She all but ran back to Visenya’s solar and to her relief, she was alone. Rowan took a seat and buried her face in her hands in shame. Gods be good, just looking at him like that gave her goosebumps, it made her tingle in a way she was ashamed of. If she were in front of a mirror, she was sure to be red as a tomato.

She shook her head in absolute shame at the thoughts of him, she couldn’t allow herself to imagine things so… filthy. She busied herself with tidying up the mess that was the solar after a busy day of meetings and work.

Unaware of how many hours had passed, she did not expect to see him at the door, expecting his mother to be there instead. Maegor stood tall, closing the door behind him, his face wearing a proud smile as he approached her. He had bathed and changed, now smelling of lavender. When Rowan did not return the smile, Maegor frowned.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked, brows furrowed, eyes confused.

“I am.” she remembered how to breathe, meeting his eyes. “How could you say such a thing to Ceryse?” she asked him, her voice soft as always.

At the mention of his wife’s name, Maegor’s frown deepened.

“Why are you upset over her?” he asked her, voice suspicious.

“I’m not upset over her, it’s not her that’s acting so out of turn, it’s you I’m upset over. I never imagined you saying such a thing to anyone, let alone your own wife!” she countered.

“My… wife.” he said, as if he were hesitant to call her that. “You two have really gotten close.” he sounded like he was accusing her of some crime.

“She’s my friend, of course we’re close. I care about her, so of course I’m angry when her husband is being such a jerk to her!” Rowan was getting angrier.

“You think I’m a jerk for expecting what every husband expects of his wife?” he asked her, no, challenged her.

“Not every husband speaks to his wife so cruelly. I’d be crushed if my own husband spoke to me in such a way.” It was low, but he had never angered her so.

Maegor’s words were lost in his throat when he heard her. He opened his mouth to speak, but chose against it, as if not trusting what he was going to say. He was silent for a moment, looking away from her in shame.

“I was… frustrated.” he finally admitted to her in shame.

“And so it’s fine for you to speak to her like that?” she asked him, eyes baring into his handsome face.

“I’ll make it up to her. But you seem more fond of her than you are of me.” Maegor’s voice went from a shamed one, to a suspicious one.

“That feels like an accusation. Should I not care for my friend?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“And am I not your dearest friend?” he asked softly. “Because you are mine.”

“Of course you are.” that, and so much more. “I care about you the most. Which is why I cannot watch you act in such an unbecoming way. I do not understand why you’re in such a hurry, it’s only been a year. You’re better than this.”

“Forgive me… I cannot bear to leave while you’re angry with me.” he walked closer to her, grabbing hold of both her hands, eyes pleading.

“It’s not me you need to apologise to.” she frowned at how much she craved his touch.

“I’ll apologise, I promise.” he squeezed her hands in assurance.

They stayed silent for a while, relishing in the warmth of getting to hold each other’s hands. She silently studied his hands, large and calloused, the skin rough from all his years training with the sword. Some cuts were fresh, but they were tiny, noticeable only if one stepped so close to look. She couldn’t help it, she traced around them ever so gently, praying that this was the only damage he’d have on him when he returned. Maegor seemed to relish in the attention she was giving him, but that did not stop him from noticing the reddened skin on her fingertips. He said nothing, only softly touching them, his eyes now on her face. She turned upward to meet his gaze and slightly shook her head.

“I… I was just stressed. With the battle coming up, I just… I worry.” she admitted. “Look, I know you think it’s silly, but I’m nervous about you going away. I made you this.” she said softly, reaching in her pocket to reveal to him the small wooden sword pin. “It’s to keep you safe. I know you find things of the faith silly, but-”

He took it from her hands and brought it to his lips for a kiss. He studied it closely, admiration on his face when he noticed the small details she carved into it.

“Thank you. I shall guard it carefully.” he smiled.

“It’s supposed to be worn beneath your armour. It’s like a prayer to the Warrior, to keep you safe, grant you strength and courage to return home safely.” to return to me.

“Will you show me where?” he asked boldly, eyes on hers.

“There’s no specific place, you can pin it wherever it’s most comfortable, as long as it doesn’t bother you, or get in your way.” she suddenly felt shy.

“I’ll wear it wherever you tell me to.” he said, placing the pin in her hands, looking at her expectantly, standing tall for her to place it somewhere.

Rowan looked up at his eyes and they held the softest expression she had ever seen on his harsh features. She just wanted to leap into his arms and beg him to stay safe, to stay alive, but she didn’t. She thought for a moment, and carefully placed the pin over his heart. Before she could move away, he placed his hands over hers, looking at her with such longing. She could swear she could feel her heart in her ears, her face impossibly warm.

“I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ll crush them all and return to you before you know it.”

“Maegor…” she wanted to scold him for speaking this way, as if he didn’t make her heart flutter and tremble.

“Do you not think I can? You’ve seen me train, have I given you reason to doubt me?” he asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

“I- no, but, you cannot know for certain… not with battle…” she trailed.

“You seemed to quite enjoy watching me…” he whispered, knowing very well what he was doing to her. How cruel of him.

“Maegor…” she shook her head and pulled away her hands. “That was inappropriate, I shouldn’t have been there..”

“Inappropriate… yes.” he repeated, but did not believe it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise, I did it on purpose.” he admitted.

“On purpose?” she asked, confused.

“To show you, you have nothing to fear. I’ll be safe. Nobody can touch me. You will not mourn me, Rowan. Plus, I have Balerion with me. Let’s see if those fools can fight him off.” he grinned, assuring her even more.

“Still, please be safe and careful.” she begged.

He smiles.

“Of course.”

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#maegor targaryen x oc #maegor the cruel #hotd fanfic #local faithful of the seven gets turned on for the first time and is scared #he really is slutty asf actually

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