Fool Me Once (pt 2)
Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)
Summary: Despite learning about Aemond cheating on you, life has never been sweeter. Who knew being so bad could be so good.
Warnings: manipulation, mentions/allusions to pregnancy issues, mentions of self harm
A/N: first, I just have to say thank you for the response to part 1. I truly had no idea it would get the reception it would. Thank you to everyone who followed me as well. I hope I can continue to produce stuff yāall like. Iām hoping to write more hotd stuff, Aemond and non Aemond related. I plan on taking a small hiatus but will be back around thanksgiving weekend. I will be writing on/off during that time but just away for a trip/the holiday. If you have any hotd requests my inbox is always open. I would try to get them out either before my hiatus next week (11/16) or after it ends (11/26). Iām pretty open to writing any character, though I will warn you Iām way more fascinated by the greens so they just come easier to me. Anyway please reblog, like, and follow if you read anything you enjoy š«¶š½š«¶š½. And some housekeeping: in this Aegon is not r*pist who enjoys watching children fight (the hotd are trulyā¦. not right for the cartoonishly evil way they wrote Aegon). Heās just petty and neglected. Also the timing of this is different from the books bc Aemond meets Alys pre dance.
Fmo masterlist
Blog Masterlist
A bastard Strong. The irony is not lost on you. Your straight-laced husband fucking someone who is the complete opposite you. Older, no kids, no title, and no duty to uphold. At this point, it doesnāt hurt anymore. Instead, it makes your blood boil in the most delicious way. Aemondās betrayal made you realize how youāve been going through the motions; endlessly sleepwalking, hoping one day Aemond would come around. It woke you up to how much heās taken advantage of you. He sees your kindness, and aversion to standing out as a weakness. Something he can manipulate and twist like one of his daggers.
The both of you must have forgetten where you came from. A rich, well respected house. The only daughter of smart, albeit conniving, family that knows how to get what they want. Your family didnāt have dragons or absurd ideas of exceptionalism to help you gain power. Youāve learned that inflated egos and prideful indulges can cloud Targaryen judgment. A trait you hope skips your children.
Shame on you for thinking Aemond would be different. Shame on him for the carefully curated facade.
All you do after Larys Strong comes to you the first time is think. You canāt remember the last time youāve had this many options in front of you. Your motherās words about patience run through your head. Keeping your wits is key. Play your hand too quickly, and you lose all leverage. You have Daella and the babe in your belly to think about. You stood pat in the beginning; Lord Strong simply relaying messages to you. You make sure Alys gets the letter Aemond wrote, and the ones after that. Lord Larys makes sure you get the details of each letter exchanged.
When the days grew lonely, and your body aches because of the babe in your stomach, you think about the letters. The declarations of love and recounts of lust filled meetups simmer in your head, but itās the mentions of you that makes the anger sizzle and crackle. It makes the guilt you feel wash away.
You question if the rumor is true. That his Alys is a witch. Does her magic allow her to see the way Helaena can? Fuzzy premonitions and dreams that only make sense after they happen; a gift and a curse. A part of you wishes it to be true. You hope while your stomach stirs with untold truths, hers stirs with regret. Maybe the pain that runs through you leaves an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. That she canāt quite put her finger on it, but she feels you.
You wonder if when Aemond prays, he asks the Father to protect himā¦ to protect her. The same way when you pray, you ask the Warrior to help you find the courage to destroy him.
It started with a bruise. A bruise that you donāt even remember how you got. Maybe one of those things you just wake up with. But itās there, on the inside part of your left arm. Itās starting to fade but an otherwise noticeable bruise that stands out when you wear something with shorter sleeves.
The idea doesnāt come to you till you see the curiosity in Alicentās eyes when you absentmindedly rub the bruise while asking if sheās seen Aemond. Itās only you two in the walkway; an unusually quiet day at the Red Keep. Her eyes go from it to the far away look in your eyes. It makes her tilt her head in thought.
āNo dear, I havenāt,ā her eyes go back to the scratch. āAre you doing alright? I know for some, the second babe can be even harder than the first.ā
You look down at your arm, and something just clicks.
āIām fine,ā you start, then you make your voice tremble a bit. āI will be fine. I think Iām just tired.ā
You give her a strained smile, and she returns one that tells you she doesnāt believe you. You can feel her big brown eyes burning into your back when you walk past her towards your chambers. There could be two thoughts in her head: you did this yourself or someone else did it to you. Either way, her sonās sweet pregnant lady wife is not doing well, and her son is nowhere to be found. Queen Alicent is one of the smartest, if not the smartest, person you know. She sees the change in her son; the change in the dynamic between Aemond and you.
It hits you. It would be too easy to physically harm Aemond. Though the idea of taking the blade that hangs from his hips and putting it to his throat has crossed your mind more times than youāre proud of. It would be too easy to get Larys to kill Alys. You donāt want to give Aemond the satisfaction of having his whoreās blood on your hands.
Whereās the fun in killing when your rage could be channeled into something moreā¦ methodical.
Under all that false bravado is the little boy who got picked on for not having a dragon. To break the man means bringing out that little boy. A truly broken man canāt love anyone. Isolation, and self hatred. What a gorgeous combination for your dear husband.
If this is going to work you need to up the ante.
So, you write. If Aemond and Alys can document their love, you can document your pain. You sent your lady in waiting out to get a blank book from one of the maesters. The color dyed cow skin feels smooth under your hands. There needs to be a slow build. Each day you grow closer and closer to shattering. Whoever reads it needs to know Aemond brought you to this place. He is the villain in the story of the poor, innocent wife that did nothing but carry his children and try to love him.
It will read like a diary, but to you it is a creation. A mixture of truth and imagination. A manifestation of pent up feelings. Purging and revenge all rolled up into one. You make sure to mention how terrified you are for your safety, and for you childrenās safety. How an angry or disenchanted Aemond is nothing to toy with, especially if he has a bastard witch on his side. How maybe life would be better for Aemond if you just werenāt around.
But this fading bruise isnāt enough. Neither is just having a diary that will be discovered in due time. A deep cut, a dark bruise, half hazardously placed hand prints.. now that could work.
Thereās something cathartic about the pain you feel when the dagger slices through your skin. The blood is so red and warm. It smears so smoothly on the page. Blood on your dress, cloth pressed to the wound, and wandering the halls is how Ser Criston finds you. You notice the worried, confused look in his eyes when you stutter out an āI donāt knowā when he asks what happened.
As the maester tends to your wound, you notice how Alicent and Criston stand in the corner of Alicentās quarters. They occasionally glance at you while they whisper to each other. You recognize the familiar crinkle she gets in her forehead when sheās upset. All her children do it too.
āSweetling, we both think it might be a good idea to give you your own knight of the kingsguard,ā she sits next you. āJust to help you andā¦ keep an eye on you during this vulnerable time.ā
You blink. Not one mention of her son. But itās clear to see how Ser Criston is with his queen. Submissive, and utterly devoted. Having someone like that is an asset. So, you smile weakly and nod. The more people who see you in this way, the better.
Ser Quinton Throne was quiet in the beginning. As if he was scared to be in your space. A far cry from the rambunctious knight his brother, Rickard, is. Moving past the initial shyness, he is attentive and even indulges Daellaās fascination with him. Despite you telling her not to, she would always run up to him, tugging on his white cloak to get his attention. She likes having someone around just as much as you.
The distance between Aemond and you had started to carry over into his relationship with Daella. Kids are more intuitive than adults give them credit for. Your throat felt tight when you daughter finally asks where father goes. You lie; it comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would. It makes you think if this is how easy it is for Aemond to lie to you. Or for everyone to not gloss over the clear problems in your life.
You would lying if you said it wasnāt nice having a man around, even if it was his job. It was Aemondās job to do right by you, and he couldnāt do that. A man carrying out his orders with a warm smile was welcomed. The comfort of having someone who sweared his allegiances to you, and only you, and intended on keeping them.
You look from your embroidery loop to see Daella and Ser Quinton sword fighting with wooden swords. Itās an uncharacteristically sunny day. Perfect to get much needed fresh air, and apparently going to battle.
āSheās gotten quite good.ā
Like a storm rolling in to ruin a sunny day, your husbandās tone is ever cold and distant. You hate the uncomfortable energy that radiates when he sits next to you.
āYes, she has,ā you stare at the Lysene lilac flower starting to come to life on your loop. āHeās good with her as well.ā
You know he wonāt like you saying that. He hates Quinton being around, and he especially hates how Daella taken a liking to him. Aemond scoffs and mumbles something under his breath you canāt make out.
āItās just lovely having real protector around,ā you continue to push your luck. āSomeone so attentive andā¦ strong.ā
You look at with his a sickening sweet smile. He opens his mouth to say something, a complaint or rude comment since those seem to be the only reasons he talks to you, but he is interrupted by Daella yelling out for him.
āWeāll talk about this later,ā he mutters to you, getting up.
āOh youāll actually be here long enough for that?ā
The words slip out your mouth and it makes him turn to glare at you. It reminds you of the gossip you heard about him when you first arrived at court. How cold the kingās second son can be. It shouldāve been a warning to you.
Quinton takes it as his cue to leave them be; you know he can sense how much Aemond doesnāt appreciate his presence. You watch as Daella clings to her father. As selfish as it sounds, you patiently wait for the day she too realizes he canāt be depended on.
āMy mother used to make me embroider,ā your knightās voice breaks you out of looking on. āSomething about being dangerous with a needle is just as great as being dangerous with a sword.ā
You take a good look at him. If Aemond is the moon - ethereal, mysterious, and always changing, then Quinton is the sun. Bright, forward facing, and shines brighter with time. His choppy black hair, beard, and warm standing in contrast to your husbandās Targaryen features.
āSounds like a smart woman,ā you smile as he sits next to you.
His eyes linger on your embroidery work before traveling to you right arm. The blade wound was just starting to scab and scar over. His first day on duty was marked by seeing your husband give a long lecture on safety and āusing your brainā after Aemond saw your wound. The blade cut wasnāt under pure circumstances, but the look of resentment on your face was real. He saw that. Heās never asked what really happened to your arm.
āHow are you my lady,ā he whispers. You told him he can address you by your name, but he still insist on the formal names especially around others. āIs the babe giving you trouble.ā
Ser Quinton, Helaena, and Alicent are the only people that seem to care about your well being, on top of the babeās. Aemond concern went making sure the babe was fine to just not asking all together. Itās better that way, you think. You donāt think youād be able to take fake concern about your little āmistakeā.
āMy bladder is being pushed on, Iām finding clumps of my hair on my pillow, and Maester Oliver told me this baby will weigh more than Daella did,ā you reply lightly. āBut other than that Iām doing fine.ā
This pregnancy had knocked you on your ass. Youāre sure the stress and thoughts that consume you donāt help. You know how it feels to come into a fracture family; it makes you feel awful for the babe in your stomach. Your parents tried hard, frankly too hard, to pretend things were good between them. Trying to prove their union was more than a duty for their houses. Till this day, you donāt know whatās worse: knowing they didnāt share that love or the years you watched them fake everything. They had ambitions, and to carry them out there needed to be an appearance of an united front. You took your fatherās lead, knowing he always tried to have your best interest. The relationship you have with your mother often ebbing and flowing, especially since your marriage.
When you ravened your mother about your pregnancy troubles, she tells you that this is your responsibility to your husband. Harsh and utterly true. You donāt know if your father ever had indiscretions like Aemond, but you know sheād never plot the way you do. Her calculating nature showing up in different ways. Instead of going after him, she chose to focus on elevating you.
Her and Queen Alicent remind you of each other. Devoted to a fault. A victim who had no other choice but to fall in line.You pray for the both of them. Pray that they find peace with the sacrifices theyāve made. Pray that you never get that far. A shell of yourself. Duty, responsibility, cleaning up othersā messes - what a dull way to live.
āOnce heās out, Iām sure it will all be worth it,ā says Ser Quinton, voice not wavering.
Heās trying to be kind, mentioning the working theory in the castle that youāre having a boy. You try to smile at the thought. Itās hard to believe that. Plan or not, you still have to know the truth about the father of your children. There is hole left in your heart about that. Him disrespecting you is one thing, but his words pertaining to your unborn child is another. A sudden spurt of anger rushes over you thinking about everything. It makes you stand abruptly.
āIām feeling tired,ā you watch as Daella pretend to stab her father with her sword. Her giggles ringing out when he reaches to pick her up. The dichotomy of Aemond Targaryen will always fascinate you as much as it terrifies you. How he manages to smile in her face, and lie to yours is quite a sight to watch. āIāll send Margret out to get Daella.ā
Waiting for the perfect moment is not going to work. There no time like the present.
The stiff upper lip of this family is something you noticed the moment you stepped into their presence. Itās seeped into the way they gatekeep a dying Viserys. Alicent is cold and collected in the most beautiful way. A sharp glittering icicle. A pretty rose littered with thorns to keep you admiring from a distance. Even Helaena, who you consider a friend, keeps certain things close to the chest. Itās better to keep the full truth away from her.
But thereās Aegon.
Pitiful, and lonely Prince Aegon. A drunk with a bad attitude. But heās also the most painfully self-aware person you know. There will be times that you and him exchange looks, as you are in on the joke. That everything is a farce. One day someone will just come up and say itās all been a bad dream. You think itās the reason why he frustrates Aemond so much. The teasing on top of him never taking the Targaryen name seriously. Aegon spends his days trying to drink and fuck his way out of thinking about his life. Stuck in a royal cuckold. The first born son of a king with nothing to show for it.
Heās messy, nosy, and so openly brash. Heās your missing chess piece. The perfect pawn.
You leave the diary around places in the castle you know he will be. Itās not until you conveniently leave it in the play room where all Daella, Jaehaera, and Jaehaerys all frequent that you know heās taken the bait. His lilac eyes seem to follow you whenever you two are in the same room. It takes days for him to confront you; book in hand and wry look on his face.
āIs it true? Everything you wrote?ā
You stroke your belly while looking at him, a small smile on your face.
āDoes it matter that if it is,ā you tilt your head, and his eyes glitter with something youāre not used to seeing.
He mirrors your head tilt with a full blown smile on his face this time. Itās like a bright light after weeks of darkness. A person who also sees through the bullshit that enraptures once you call yourself a Targaryen.
āI greatly underestimated you my good sister,ā he whispers. You know heās thinking about his own words. āPretty but horribly dullā.
āThatās fine,ā you motion to the seat next to you. āYou can make it up to me.ā
Queen Alicent stands facing the fire. Aegon, Helaena, and Ser Quinton off to the side. All of them standing across from where you sit. Aegon gives you a knowing look while Quintonās eyes are filled with pity and anger. Pity for his princess, anger towards his prince. Helaena looks like she wants to say something.
āIā¦ do not know what to say,ā her voice is strained with pain. You know this hurts for her. The image of the perfect son being destroyed. The pedestal she put him on crumbling before him.
Youāve gotten better at crying after Aegon told you tears will be necessary to sell it. Itās an automatic response now. The perfectly timed emotion that breaks like flood gates when Alicent holds out the diary. You say youāre embarrassed. That you never meant for anyone to read it, especially not anyone in the family. Aegon gets to be the concerned good brother. He rubbed your back, while his mother called for Helaena. She needed to know who else knew about this.
āI can say what everyone is thinking,ā Aegon pipes up. āHeās a fucking cunt.ā
āAegon.ā
His mother turns to glare at him, but it doesnāt deter him.
āWalking around with that self righteousness just to fuck a Strong,ā he scoffs. āCalling his child a mistake?ā
The words makes Alicent sigh, and squeeze her eyes shut. Helaena continues to play with her fingers with a quizzical look in her eye. If Aegon of all people can judge, the actions must be bad.
āThis all my fault,ā you decide to take it up a notch. Your breath catches. āI mustāve done something to deserve this.ā
āOh my sweet girl,ā Alicent walks over and sits next to you, pulling you into her chest. āNone of this is your fault.
āI just donāt know what I did to deserve this,ā you continue. That part is true; what the seven hells did you do to deserve this marriage? āThis, and the baby, and missing my family. Iām just so unhappy here.ā
Alicent strokes your hair. You can feel her heart thumping in her chest. You can tell sheās upset and scared. Scared for what your unhappiness means. Youāre a risk now.
āMaybeā¦ my father can come and visit. He hasnāt been here since Daella was born.ā
After you got married, your parents left court to tend to your house. They felt their work was done. That the marriage was as far as their political ambitions can go. They visit from time to time to see their granddaughter but normally youāre the one who has to make the trip.
āOf course,ā you can see the wheels turning in her head. āIām sure the Hand would love to pick his brain on some things. Your father has always been so kind and helpfulā
Queen Alicent is as predictable as she is smart. Your dad thought your marriage would help him get a seat in the small council. When no offer came, his ego was bruised. If your marriage couldnāt, maybe a desperate Alicent can. The idea of sending a raven about the news makes you have to bite back a smile. An ally in an castle full of strangers.
āIāll speak to Aemond about this,ā she nods to herself. āYou donāt need to be worrying about this in your condition.ā
The disappointment is clear in smooth voice. Before you can reply with a thank you, Helaena finally piped up.
āA babyās green eyes spurs brighter skies.ā
She mutters it before looks at you curious. You look down at your swollen belly, feeling confused. Neither Aemond or you have green eyes. You try to push the sinking feeling out of your stomach. Even Aegon, who normally ignores Helaenaās cryptic language, has perked up a little.
You take a look at Ser Quintonā¦ his eyes as green as spring grass.
Ok this is my first one doing a tag list, so Iām sorry for those Iāve missed. It only let me do 50??? Idk itās itās different on desktop or Iām doing something wrong. Hopefully I can find a more conducive way for this. I also only tagged people who specifically asked: @afro-hispwriter @crispmarshmallow @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @its-sam-allgood @lol-im-done @grey-water-colors @sassysaxsolo @justsumstufff @lilithskywalker @dc-marvel-girl96 @bekky06 @claudie-080102 @cloudroomblog @shelbythequeen @crazylokonugget @solacestyles @instantpeachpeace @katyadenauer @nsainmoonchild @deeeeexx @iwanttohitmyself @rosa-berberifolia @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @princessmiaelicia @bregarc @castellomargot @thesadvampire @chaosmagiq @icarusignite @happinessinthebeing @flavorofsalt @wishfulwithwine @slut-for-eddie-munson @rosaryos @mistalli @inana-mm @winxschester @papery-maniac @nolongereviliwantlove @fultimefangirl @missusnora @skinmittensgoblin @duckworthbean @b00kdiary @chiyausu @alexandra-001 @tachibubu @juneisreading @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @verycollectivecreator
4K notes
Ā·
View notes