#the realm will be better for it. wanderer is not doing it so aemond has power but so the people don’t suffer.

[the-darklings]

Older women loving Aemond would totally be into Wanderer, especially when she tells him stories of other realms.

He would find Wanderer fascinating at the least. Though given his nature, I see more of deep running fascination bordering on obsession initially—just something that itches beneath his skin as he’s shown to hold onto emotions/ideas to a festering degree. Especially given the fact I imagined Wanderer being around 500 when she would meet that generation of Targaryens/the Dance. Wanderer sees clean through him. See behind the eye (they’ve seen worse, and have experienced worse), behind the ambition (yes, he would be a better king, but tells him plenty rule without a crown; a crown is a symbol for the figurehead but loyalty of the land doesn’t always reside with the figurehead), not to mention Vhagar.

Just imagine Aemond having the biggest oh MomentTM while Wanderer bows deeply to his dragon who inhales puffing breaths of her scent and seems to melt with recognition, the snarling growls falling silent. Wanderer stroking those battle-worn scales with loving affection (likely the first time Aemond sees genuine softness and something other than mild indifference/annoyance while at the court), murmuring to the she-dragon in old Valyrian, talking about Visenya to the dragon as if they’re all old friends. Wanderer is some bizarre, ancient, otherworldly individual who looks no different than most people in King’s Landing and he finds it maddening and magnetic all in the same breath.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats Pt. 4

Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, child birth, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenyra cannot imagine what might cause such commotion in the middle of the night.

“The dragon keepers have just calmed Sunfyre, who’s been having a fit for the better part of three hours.” Daemon informs her.

“Why is this news?” Rhaenyra wonders, “you needed only to wake Prince Aegon so that he might calm his own dragon.”

“That was my intention, your grace.” Daemon assures her, “until it was brought to my attention that Stormborn had been taken from the pit.”

“Where is she now?”

“Her grace’s dragon has since been returned to the pit.”

“Where is my daughter now?” Rhaenyra asks.

The room falls silent, everyone glancing toward one another.

“We believe the princess to be abed.”

“Not one of you thought to make certain?” The Queen all but shouts, panic coursing through her.

“We thought it best not to disturb the princess while she is abed, your grace.” Not without permission from the queen herself…certainly not after the last time.

Prince Aegon was in quite a state, threatening to castrate any member of the royal guard who happened upon his beloved wife in the throes of passion.

“Never you mind, I will see to her myself.” The Queen stalks down to her daughter’s room, pounding at the door.

It is Aegon who answers, “Rhaenyra?”

“I need to see her.”

Aegon hesitates, looking to his wife, who nods her approval. “She’s just there.” He takes a step back, allowing his half sister entry.

Y/N sits upon her bed in a pristine blush sleeping gown, hair still damp from the bath. “Mother.”

“Tell me the truth of it.” Rhaenyra approaches, hovering over her bedside. “Where were you this night?”

“With Aegon.”

Rhaenyra steals herself, “where were you whilst Sunfyre was howling in the pit? I know you took Stormborn, I have it on good authority. Tell me now, Y/N, where did you go?”

“To Harrenhal.”

Rhaenyra blanches, clutching her chest. “Why?” She sobs, “why would you do such a thing, knowing the risk?”

“Mother, I-”

“I have lost two of my children, I will not survive the loss of a third.”

“I have not done this to harm you, mother. But I am tired of being in pain. You’ve no idea how it feels to be tugged at by opposing sides, until you are torn down the middle.”

“Sweet girl,” Rhaenyra sighs.

“I understand why you needed Aegon and I to marry. I do not fault you for it, but times are different now. I love him, mother. Not for the crown, or the realm, or even peace. He is one half of me.”

“I wish you’d come to me, instead of facing all these troubles alone. I will always be your mother, no matter if you are a woman grown, you will not outgrow my love for you so long as I live.”

Y/N nods. “I love you dearly, mother. I want only to make you proud.”

“I am proud.” Rhaenyra assures her, “you needn’t prove yourself to me.”

“Then might I ask you to set a place for my husband at your table? Say it is not too late.”

“And what of Aemond?” Rhaenyra asks, mulling it over.

“He is gone.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Yes.” Y/N whispers.

“Show me.”

Y/N lifts her nightgown to reveal the charred skin of her wound.

“Alright,” Rhaenyra lowers the material once she’s gotten a good look. She kisses the top of her daughter’s head, “we will have the maester come with salve to dress it.”

Y/N nods.

“Have you taken anything for the pain?”

“Milk of the poppy.”

Rhaenyra’s hand is trembling as it passes over her daughter’s hair a second time. “Aegon, might you bring the maester?”

“Of course,” he nods. Stealing himself before wandering down the hall and away from his beloved wife. Returning with the maester, who begins tending the wound immediately.

“Is there anything else I might get you?” Rhaenyra asks, keeping hold of her daughter’s hand.

Y/N is mostly joking when she murmurs to her mother, “cake?”

Rhaenyra smiles, “I will see to it.”

Y/N relaxes as best she can to the poking and prodding.

“Aegon,” Rhaenyra nods toward the hall, “a word?”

“Of course,” Aegon follows her out.

“I owe you a debt, for taking care of my daughter. Y/N is the world to me, as she is to you.” Rhaenyra says. “Know that as I walk this path to reclaim the throne, we do so hand in hand. We are one house, as our father so willed it.”

Aegon nods, “thank you.”

————————————————————————

Years ago, after the council meeting where Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent agreed to the terms of their children’s betrothal; King Viserys himself called for Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N in his quarters.

It is put plainly before them, what is expected. What this union is meant to do; ease the strain between their two families.

“Stand together.” The king insists.

Y/N and Aegon inch toward each other.

“This will be expected of you from now on. You are betrothed, you will act as such.”

“Yes, father.”

“Yes, grandsire.”

At dinners they sit together, during shared lessons, anytime they are in the same room.

Stand together.

The princess continues her training alongside Helaena while her brothers and her betrothed argue regularly. The boys only find common ground when teasing Aemond for not having a dragon.

Queen Alicent appreciates these childish games least of all and raises her concerns with the King.

It is Y/N, having the least to do with any of it, who is summoned by her grandsire and his wife.

“Come sit, darling girl.” Viserys smiles, guiding Y/N over to his model of Old Valyria.

She nods, “thank you, your grace.”

“How are you enjoying your studies?”

“Very well,” Y/N tells him.

“I am glad to hear it. Even the septa has nothing but good things to say. You will make a fine queen, my girl.”

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “It pleases me to hear you say this, Grandsire. I wish only to make you proud.”

Viserys takes her hand, “surely you understand that you are a reflection of your mother and myself, in your actions and your words.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N squeezes his fingers.

“The time has come for you to consider those whose actions reflect on you.”

“I do not understand.”

“He is referring to your brothers, who wreak havoc on the whole of us.” Alicent chimes in.

“Oh, Alicent.” Viserys waves her away, “they are boys yet. I meant our Aegon.”

“Aegon?” Alicent scoffs, “those are the actions that trouble you?”

“He will soon be a man grown and future king consort. If he is to marry my granddaughter, he must act with dignity and grace.”

“Do you not see the true issue, your grace?” Alicent demands.

“You asked me to speak with Rhaenyra’s children,” Viserys reminds her, “is this not Rhaenyra’s child?”

Alicent locks eyes with Y/N, she is so young, so eager to please her family. “This child is not the issue.”

“You are correct, dear wife.” The king grins, “she is the solution. Y/N, you will go to Aegon, say what you must to light a fire beneath him. So that he too might behave in a manor befitting his station. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Good,” Viserys releases her, “go now.”

Y/N stands, making her way to the door.

“See how easy that was?” Viserys turns to his wife, now standing with her back to him.

Y/N has some trouble locating the Prince, eventually she happens upon him on the stairs. “Prince Aegon,” she calls his attention.

The boy rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, my betrothed.”

“Might you walk with me to the gardens?”

“Do I have any choice?”

Y/N smirks, with a shake of her head. “No.”

“By all means, lead the way.” Aegon waves a hand, following her like an animal on a chain.

“The king and I had a rather illuminating conversation earlier.”

“And what did you discuss? How elated he is to seat you, a bastard, on the iron throne over me, his first born son?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

“No, though I am sure he will be ‘elated’ to hear that his first born son called me a bastard, in the middle of the garden, for everyone to hear.”

Aegon clears his throat, “I would not say it in front of anyone.”

"This place is crawling with vermin, their eyes and ears are upon us at all times."

"You mean to tell me we have rats?"

"Not everything can be taken so literally, my prince."

Aegon stares through her, every word going over his pretty blonde head.

"Look, there's your father now." Y/N points, "watching us from his balcony."

Aegon whips around, spotting the king.

"Smile and wave, let him believe we are having a grand time."

Aegon does as he's told, earning a nod from Viserys. "Are we not?"

True to his word, Aegon does not call her a bastard again, to her face or behind her back. When Aemond’s eye is lost, the truth of it comes out.

Y/N and Aegon begin moving closer, behind Aemond’s chair. Stand together. Perpetually closing the space between their two houses.

When Alicent scolds Aegon for not protecting his brother, Y/N is near enough to receive a second hand lashing by her tongue. And when his mother’s palm meets his cheek, in a stinging slap, his hair brushes Y/N’s skin.

“What was that for?”

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.”

“The legitimacy of my children’s births were called loudly to question.” Rhaenyra informs the king. “Vile insults were levied against them.”

“What insults?” Viserys sneers.

“He called us bastards.” Jacaerys says.

“Where did you hear such things, boy?” The king demands of the injured prince.

Aemond is quiet then, not willing to tell the truth. He first heard it from his mother, long before his brother. But Aegon has said it, many a time, before he abruptly stopped. “It was Aegon.”

Viserys rounds the chair, to confront his eldest son, with his eyes cast downward.

By the gods, let this humiliation end swiftly.

“Aegon!”

Stand together.

Y/N must not abandon her post.

“Yes, father.”

“Is this true?”

“It is.” Aegon admits, “and I am sorry for it. I am the elder, I should not have poisoned Aemond’s mind with such hatred. Especially as…these allegations are untrue. It was my mistake, forgive me.”

King Viserys takes a step back, “the next tongue to question the parentage of Princess Rhaenyra’s children will be removed.”

Y/N lets out a shuttering breath, catching her grandsire’s attention.

He offers her a reassuring smile, after threatening to cut out his children’s tongues. It feels wrong to be treated so differently, standing inches apart.

When the preceding is at an end, and Rhaenyra’s blood has been split, Y/N goes to find Aegon. He is tucked in against the grand archway, drowning in cups. "I brought you more wine."

Aegon eyes her warily, accepting the glass, “and what do you want?"

"May I sit with you?"

"If you wish."

Y/N takes a seat on the cool, stone floor beside him. "Thank you, for saying what you did.”

"My mother did not appreciate it."

Y/N hesitates, "I know it is not my place, but I do not like when she strikes you. Perhaps I could discuss it with your father?”

"My father? Who loves me least of all his children?" Aegon shakes his head. "A lot of good that would do.”

"They should not treat you that way."

“You care for me," he realizes. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.

"Should I not?”

"I would not know how to care for you in return."

"You defended me, in front of both our families.” Y/N challenges. “If that is not caring for me, I don't know what is."

Aegon feels the weight of her head resting against his shoulder, and he does not pull away.

"I am sorry for what happened to Aemond. I hope he finds peace and swift healing."

"If it were either of your brothers who’d been maimed, my father would pluck out Aemond’s eye himself and present it to Rhaenyra on a platter. There is no peace in that.”

Aegon becomes fiercely protective of his brother after that.

Y/N does not fault him for it.

The debacle of Driftmark sets their nuptials back several years. The blacks and greens remain in negotiation until Aegon is twenty and one and Y/N is ten and eight. At which point, Viserys proclaims they must either marry before the moon turns, or end the engagement to free both their hands for marriage.

Reluctantly, they are bound before the eyes of thousands.

Stand together.

They recite traditional Valyrian vows, sealing their covenant in blood. Sharing a dance or two before being whisked away to consummate said marriage, as other members of the wedding party drink merrily in the grand hall.

————————————————————————-

“Are they gone?” Y/N asks, toying anxiously with her wedding ring.

“They have strict orders,” Aegon sighs, “the appointed members of council cannot leave until they’ve heard a proper consummation.” He climbs into bed with her, both fully dressed in their marriage attire.

“We best get to it then.” Y/N begins plucking pins from her hair. The tapestry of braids falling free.

“Unless you’d rather have a bit of fun.”

“How do you mean?”

Aegon grins, “we could pretend.”

“Really?”

“This marriage is ours, no one else’s. When I bed you that will be ours and no one else’s.”

Stand together.

“How would we-”

Aegon rises up on his knees, gripping the headboard. “I will do the heavy lifting. Just lie back and think of the crown.”

Y/N covers her face with both hands as he begins thrusting at the air. The springs beneath them groan and crackle.

Aegon peeks down at her to find a smile painted across her lips, despite her shielded eyes. “Let them hear you, sweetheart. Make it believable.”

Y/N nods, releasing a sound she imagines a person might make while exchanging intimacies.

“Not like that.” Aegon chuckles, “they’ll think I’m murdering you.”

“I do not know how.”

“Have you never touched yourself?” He breathes.

“Never.”

Gods, he’s going to enjoy her. “That’s alright,” he continues his movements to jostle the mattress. “Just do as I do.” Aegon lets his mouth fall open, releasing a low moan.

The sound that escapes Y/N in return is not entirely forced. It makes her belly burn with desire.

They continue on like this for a while before Aegon murmurs, “big finish.”

“So quickly?” Y/N’s brow furrows.

Aegon’s eyes flicker about her, “I can’t imagine it will take long.”

As the grand finale comes to a close, Aegon makes for his dagger. Slicing his finger at the tip and allowing blood to pool before dragging the crimson stain across the bed sheet. He strips it from the bed, walking it to the door. “Deliver this to her majesty the Queen. I know she is impatiently waiting.”

Y/N begins pacing, beside the bed.

“They are gone. We are alone.”

She nods, “thank you, Aegon. For all of it.”

————————————————————————-

When Aegon does eventually bed her, it is well worth the wait.

“By the gods, that is not going to fit inside me.”

Aegon huffs a laugh, “I promise it will, darling girl. We must prepare you first.”

“How,” Y/N squeals.

He hushes her, lying open mouthed kisses across her collarbones.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not if I can help it.” He plans to burying his face between her thighs and bring her to the heavens. But the sweet little thing wants only to be held, kissed. Aegon lies beside her, one hand stroking her dark hair, the other moving down to her breasts, kneading them gently.

“You are beautiful,” he breathes.

“As are you.” She pants, moving her lips against his.

Aegon chuckles, “flattery will get you places.” He rolls her nipple between his fingers, flicking over it with the pad of his thumb.

Her hips rise of their own accord, grinding herself against his entwined leg.

“Slowly, my darling.”

Y/N nods, kissing him again to distract herself from the building ache between her legs.

Feather light caresses trail down to her sex, collecting a bit of wetness and slipping a finger into her heat. Pumping slowly, getting her used to the sensation.

“That feels nice.” She breathes, tugging at his hair.

Aegon smiles, “can you take another?”

“Yes.”

Aegon adds a second digit, working her open, pushing a bit deeper to her sweet spot. His fingers curl against it, relishing her little gasps. The princess is close now.

“Ahh,” she grasps his forearm.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

“I-”

“Don’t cry.” By the seven, she is gripping his fingers like a vise.

“I cannot help it.” Her thighs tremble in earnest now.

“That is your peak, darling girl. You’re alright, I promise.” He continues stroking, pressing the base of his hand flush with her swollen pearl, applying gentle pressure until she finds bliss. He pets at her hair as she cries out. “Good girl,” he coos, working her through the crest and bringing her back down.

“That was heavenly,” she sighs, steadying her breathing.

You are heavenly.

“Might we do it again?”

Aegon chuckles, “as many times as you’d like.”

————————————————————————

In the early days of their marriage, Aegon realizes that his wife has a nasty habit of bedding him and waiting until he finds sleep to sneak off. Holding after hours council with her mother.

The practice itself does not upset him, but this night, her absence is especially troubling, as they have been drinking since dinner. His sweet wife is not well versed in wine drinking. She laughed so hard she cried and then rode him to kingdom come.

Aegon tosses back the covers, pulling on his clothes and moving quickly through the halls of the keep. He rounds the nearest corridor, colliding with his wife, running at full speed. “Sweetheart?”

“I was looking for you,” Y/N smiles.

“Where have you been?”

“Well, I could not find sleep so I went to the maester to ask for a draft.”

“Then you’ve been to the maester?” Aegon holds her at arms length, searching for any sign of harm.

“I was on my way to the maester when I happened across one of the groundskeeper’s wives and we got to talking.” Y/N admits, with a hiccuping laugh.

“What could you possibly be talking about for over an hour?”

“Just about everything, she is a lovely woman.” Y/N tells him.

Aegon nods, with a patient smile.

“I might have stayed longer, but it came up in conversation…all the ways a woman might please her husband. And I could not wait to tell you.”

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

“The smallfolk share things in the marriage bed I’ve never even heard of.” Y/N muses. “She told me that, on occasion, she puts his cock between her breasts and he-”

“Who is this woman, my darling? Did you get a name?”

“I do not remember her name. I’ve been drinking.”

“I’m well aware,” Aegon’s face softens. “Next time you cannot find sleep, wake me instead.”

Y/N nods.

“In return, I will teach you all the things a husband and wife might do together. I will even demonstrate, should you find it necessary.”

“Oh, could you?” Y/N grabs for his hands, in excitement.

Aegon sighs, “you will be the death of me.”

She leaves him little notes each time after, when she must go to attend her family.

‘My dearest Aegon, I will return soon. I could not stand to wake you from such a peaceful slumber. Worry not, I will always return to you.’

And she does, after council meetings and late nights with her mother. She always returns.

————————————————————————

After a particularly long week, Aegon avoids Y/N purposely. Attempting to clear the room when he finds her there.

“Have I done something?” Y/N stops him.

Aegon shakes his head, “it has been a long day. I do not wish to burden you.”

“When you are upset you may come to me.”

Aegon fights the urge to pull away, to ignore her until she leaves.

“I will hold you.” It isn’t much, but it is all she knows. The way her mother comforts her.

Aegon says nothing, sitting down to bury his head in his hands.

Y/N sighs, winding her arms around his shoulders, feeling them begin to shake.

He reaches for her slowly, as if such comfort might burn him, or she would simply bat his hand away. She doesn’t of course, she allows him to bring her closer, now seated in his lap.

The princess says not a word as her husband works himself free of his breeches. Taking her small clothes and skirt aside.

“It helps,” he tells her. “You help.”

He goes to her then, when the day is long. When there is news to share, on occasion, just to say hello. He goes to her because he can.

————————————————————————-

During dinners at the Red Keep they whisper secrets and share hushed laughter. When he grows tired of that, Aegon’s fingers toy with her pretty little cunt beneath the table, to watch her squirm.

“I love you.” He confesses, meeting her gaze as she turns to him at the height of her pleasure.

Y/N bites down on the inside of her cheek, holding perfectly still as Aegon works her through her peak. Withdrawing his fingers and wiping them clean on the fabric of her skirts. “I love you.”

No one is the wiser. Save for Otto, who knows all; or rather likes to believe he does.

Gone is any hope that the blacks or greens might use their influence to sway the tides from one side to another. Y/N and Aegon belong to each other now, a danger in its own right.

News of the princess’s pregnancy sparks a joyous celebration throughout the realm, only to be outshone by news of the birth. Two perfect little girls. Twins, named Dahlia and Visera, respectively.

“They are perfect, my dearest love.” Aegon marvels when they are placed in his arms.

Y/N nods.

“Are you well?” He asks, swaying from side to side.

Whether from weariness or the question itself, Y/N bursts in to tears.

Aegon carefully gives his daughters over to the maids. Climbing onto the freshly dressed bed with Y/N to hold her, stroking dark locks. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“It was awful,” Y/N sobs, clutching at him.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Everyone was barking commands at me, trying to rush the babe out, even worse with the second and my mother was the one person speaking against it.”

“Oh, my darling girl.” He sighs.

“I was tired and frightened…and the pain is unimaginable. I do not wish to do it again.”

Aegon sways her gently, “I am so terribly sorry.”

“You are the only person I wanted and I could not h-have you.”

“We will deliver the next just the two of us, if it pleases you.” Aegon promises.

“Your mother will never allow that.”

“She will not know.” Aegon kisses her cheek.

Y/N pulls back just enough to see him. “If you’re certain.”

“I am. Calm yourself now, my only love. This is a day of happiness.” Aegon dries her tears, “I should like to soak up every moment here, with the three of you.”

Y/N nods, “I would like that very much.”

At the prince’s request, Visera and Dahlia are returned to them.

Aegon takes his second born, tracing the soft lines of her little face, committing them to memory. “Papa loves you.”

Y/N grins at the sight, her own finger clutched in her eldest daughter’s fist.

It comes as a shock to only Alicent when Dahlia Targaryen is named their heir; with her claim upheld by Viserys himself. Aegon does not need a son, his daughters are his legacy.

They attend small council meetings as they grow, with Dahlia seated on her grandsire’s lap.

“Mama,” Visera pounds at the table, drawing attention from the other seats.

“What is it, my darling girl?” Y/N hushes her, hoping to hear their current positions on livestock.

The little girl reaches for the ball again. “Please?”

“What is it she wants?” Aegon asks, from beside his wife, pecking kisses to his daughter’s outstretched hand.

“The ball.” Y/N whispers.

“Ahh,” Aegon smiles, taking his ball in hand and turning it over to Visera. “There we are.”

“You’ll spoil her rotten.”

“Just like her mother, hmm?” Aegon jests, “that is the goal.”

Y/N bites back a grin, passing a hand over her daughter’s light hair.

Their daughters celebrate their third name day before the princess is expecting again.

“There seems to be only one of you in there, I fear.” Aegon whispers to the child in Y/N’s belly, pressing kisses to her skin.

“You fear?” His wife smiles.

“You see, three is an odd number, this child will need a companion.” The prince reasons.

Y/N doesn’t argue, listening to Aegon speak with their unborn babe until she falls asleep.

————————————————————————

Y/N’s term is nearly complete when Aegon finds his wife, holding their wailing daughters in her arms. One on each side of her belly.

“What’s happened?” Aegon asks.

Y/N looks to him, “the girls were playing and Visera closed the door on Dahlia’s finger by mistake. Now they are both inconsolable.”

Aegon reaches for his eldest daughter, “let Papa see, which finger is hurt.”

“My little finger,” Dahlia cries, presenting the red, angry digit.

“That does look terrible painful, my dearest love.” Aegon says, after carefully examination.

“I must have the maester.”

“Now, now, sweetheart.” Aegon presses feather light kisses to her hand. “We need a cold compress is all.”

The maids rush out to fulfill his request.

Dahlia rests her head against her father’s shoulder as she waits, sniffling while he rubs circles into her back.

“See there, darling girl? Your sister is alright.” Y/N gentles Visera, who is feeling incredibly guilty.

“I did not mean to.”

“Of course not, my love.” Aegon says, “twas only an accident.”

The rest of their day is spent playing dolls and Aegon giving pony rides. Which, while ridiculous, does serve as a form of entertainment for Y/N who sits aside to watch.

She may give birth any day now and she feels every bit uncomfortable, still she welcomes Dahlia into her lap as she waits for her turn on Aegon, the noble steed.

“Trot,” Visera orders, with a smile across her face.

“Trot?” Aegon laughs, “shall I do tricks for you as well, your grace?”

Y/N shakes her head, locking eyes with her husband; she mouths a single word, “spoiled.” She kneads the ache in her lower back with her free hand. Ignoring it through supper and long after Dahlia and Visera are asleep.

Aegon notices the way she keeps clutching at it. “Perhaps a warm bath might help.”

“That would be nice,” she croaks out.

“Might it be your labors, darling girl?”

“It is all in my back,” she does not recall hardly any pain in her back, whilst laboring with the twins. “I must have pulled it.”

“The girls are getting bigger, perhaps it’s best if you do not lift them, in this condition.” Aegon kisses her cheek, dashing off to find a maid.

Y/N inhales, closing her eyes to the dull throbbing ache. Even the tub does not help, she climbs back into bed, hoping to sleep it off, but the pain only intensifies.

“This must be more than a muscle.” Aegon whispers, lying behind her. Continuing to knead her hips at her request.

“It is my labors.” My chokes out.

“You’re certain?”

Y/N nods, “my waters just broke.”

Aegon presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Is there anything I might do for you?”

She shakes her head. “Walking will help the babe come down, I must stand.”

Aegon springs from the bed, helping her upright.

“Fuck.” She hisses, beginning to pace their rooms.

Aegon follows, unsure what else to do.

She reaches out for him after a while, when the pain is so great all she wants is an ounce of comfort.

“I’m here.” Aegon murmurs, wrapping her in his arms as she sways gently from side to side.

Y/N clings to her husband, breathing him in. Focusing her attention on the sweetness of his words, to distract herself from her labors. “I’ll need to push soon.”

“Of course,” Aegon’s done his best to prepare himself. Studying whatever books he could manage, without drawing attention from prying eyes. Highborn ladies do not have children delivered by their husbands.

Queen Alicent will be livid when she finds out, but it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Y/N climbs atop the bed, remaining modestly covered.

“There’s no reason to be nervous, my darling. I’ve seen your cunt a hundred times.” Aegon flips her nightgown up, positioning her legs apart, bent at the knee. “There we are.”

“This is different, surely.” Y/N bares down as her belly contracts.

“Yes and no,” he pats her thigh.

She keeps a firm grip on his hand, crying out despite her best efforts.

“Alright, that’s alright.” Aegon scrambles for something to muffle it. “Might this work?” His belt.

“Yes.” Y/N takes it from him, stuffing the leather strap into her mouth. She is not entirely silent, little whimpers escape, though not enough to alert the guards.

Aegon is patient, kind, whispering words of encouragement. He never rushes her, brushing his hands across her skin. “There you go, my dearest love.” He can see the child’s head now.

Her eyes water, gritting her teeth so tightly they ache.

“Breathe.”

Y/N draws in a breath through her nose, releasing it in a strangled manner, akin to a dying animal.

“Good girl,” Aegon is prepared to catch the infant.

The princess’s head falls back as the child emerges, connected to her by only the afterbirth.

“Slippery little fellow, aren’t you?” Aegon coos, holding his son in his arms.

The infant begins to wail.

“A boy?” Y/N pants, tossing the belt away to catch her breath.

“Yes, my darling girl.” Aegon grins, “how are you?”

There is still pain, there will always be pain, but it is largely outweighed by the image of Aegon holding their son. She bursts into tears, “I am well.”

“Oh dear,” he frowns, carefully maneuvering his newborn son. He lies the infant against her chest, leaning down to comfort her as best he can. “Was it not what you wanted?”

“It was better, my love.” Y/N assures him, counting their babe’s tiny fingers. “I am overjoyed.”

“Overjoyed,” Aegon huffs, clunking his forehead against hers. “Of course that is why you’re crying.”

The maesters come after a while, to be sure that Y/N and the babe are well. After receiving the all clear, they are finally able to rest. Waking early in the morn to present the newest member of their family.

Y/N is tired and sore, even now, lying abed doesn’t suit her. She sits upon a cushion, in a loose fitting gown, tracing the slope of her new babe’s nose. “Are you nearly ready, my love?”

“Nearly,” Aegon remarks. While fastening his breeches he discovers the shapes notched into his belt. He lets out a laugh.

“What is it?” Y/N smiles.

“Look,” he rounds the stool, jutting out his hips.

“Your cock?” The princess arches a brow. “I have seen it.”

“Here, darling girl.” He grins, tracing the outline of her indentations. “From your teeth.”

Her cheeks heat up, “you must take it off.”

“Take it off?” Aegon frowns, “this is a badge of honor. I will wear it day in and day out.”

“You are insufferable,” Y/N sighs.

Aegon pecks a kiss to her parted lips, silencing any protest and setting off to gather the rest of their children.

Y/N dearly misses her mother and brothers in Dragonstone.

————————————————————————

In the months after Laenor’s birth Y/N begins searching for a teacher willing to help her learn a skill most princesses never acquire. Leading her to seekout a man she never has before.

“I want to train by the sword.”

Aemond pauses his sparring practice. “Surely I misunderstand you, dear niece.”

“You are the best, I require a tutor.” Y/N puts it plainly.

“I must be, if you are asking me, of all people.”

“I will admit, you were not my first choice. But Aegon refuses to so much as raise a sword against me and my brothers never cared for knocking me down; where as you will have no qualms about it.”

Aemond smirks, “this is true.”

“I also thought it might be a way for you and I to come together…as family.”

Aemond squares his shoulders, “very well then. Take up your sword.”

The two of them have something in common at long last, until Princess Y/N falls pregnant again, some months later.

Viserys’ condition continues to deteriorate, it is unclear if he will survive to see Y/N and Aegon’s fourth child. As luck would have it, he is lucid when the Prince and Princess present their second son, Prince Aegon, fourth of his name.

“Well done, my girl.” The king manages.

Y/N smiles, “Aegon helped.”

“I should expect so,” Viserys laughs.

“I meant only that he too deserves a job well done.”

Viserys looks to her, as if seeing her for the first time. Then turning to his son he whispers, “well done, my boy.”

Aegon is taken aback, “thank you, father.”

————————————————————————

News of Lord Corlys Velaryon’s injury in the Step Stones brings forth Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to be named his brother’s successor over Lucerys.

This business, however unpleasant, brings Rhaenyra and her children back to King’s Landing.

“We were planning to visit in a few months time, after the babe was born.” Rhaenyra tells her daughter. “But it is always a joy to see you, darling girl.”

Y/N hugs her mother, tightly, “I’ve missed you.”

Rhaenyra strokes a hand over her daughter’s hair. “I have missed you terribly.”

King Viserys musters his last bit of strength to affirm his position for Lucerys and make known that his daughter, Rhaenyra, will always be the true heir to the throne.

They break bread, the blacks and greens together, once the petition is settled. Getting along for a time, until the king is taken back to his chambers to rest. A fight breaks out between Jace, Luce and Aemond, causing Rhaenyra’s untimely departure. She intends to return alone, on dragon back, after the children are settled at home.

Y/N finds sleep that night with a renewed sense of peace, waking to anything but.

Aegon is in an odd state of dress, as if he’s thrown clothes on in the dark. Pacing at the foot of their bed; muttering to himself.

“Aegon?” The princess rubs at her eyes, hoping to make sense of it.

“My father is dead.”

Y/N sucks in a breath.

“My mother and grandsire are gathering the smallfolk for my coronation, in the dragon pit.”

“Why? Alicent herself said that my mother would make a fine Queen only hours ago.”

“In the end it was my name Viserys spoke,” Aegon whispers. “To my mother, on his deathbed.”

Oh no, gods no. Viserys wouldn’t. “What exactly did he say?”

“It matters not, my dearest love. I intend to uphold your mother’s claim.”

“How?” By taking her throne?

“I know you do not trust my family, as well you shouldn’t. You know my heart, you know what I want. They are rushing into this because they know it is wrong. I have pleaded with them, to no avail.” Aegon says. “If it is a performance they demand, so that we might seize the crown to later unfuck this line of succession, it is a performance they will have.”

Y/N nods, pressing a hand to her chest, in a desperate attempt to settle her breathing.

“We’re going to wash you up and dress you in the finest gown the realm has ever seen. Then you are going to stand at my side as they bend the knee, to try it on for size. Think of it as preparation for the day you are crowned our true queen, after your mother has ruled for a great many years.”

Again she nods.

“Are you calm enough now or do you still need me?” Aegon asks, stroking his thumb over her cheek.

“I need you.”

Stand together.

————————————————————————

In nearly two days time the realm is divided, half of them devoted to Rhaenyra’s claim, the other half to Aegon’s. After Aegon is crowned, Otto Hightower continues to play his hand.

“What are we to do?” Y/N wonders.

“My mother sent Aemond to Storm’s End. Lord Baratheon was easily swayed by the promise of Daeron’s hand for one of his daughters.”

“That is good, is it not? An ally of ours is an ally of my mother’s, in time.”

“There is more,” Aegon admits, wringing his hands.

Y/N laces their fingers together instead, “speak it.”

“I wish so badly that I did not have to tell you.”

“Please, Aegon.” She insists.

“There was an incident.”

Y/N nods, urging him to continue.

“Between Aemond…and your brother Lucerys.”

“What?” Her eyes brim with tears, as though her heart already knows.

“Lucerys was there, delivering a message from your mother. Aemond followed him, on dragon back. I do not think Aemond meant to truly harm him.” Aegon watches the lone drop of moisture cascade over her cheek. “Lucerys is dead.”

The princess’s knees buckle and she falls, with pain in her chest is so great, her lungs cannot expand.

Aegon gentles her to the floor, into his lap as she sobs so violently it shakes the pair of them. There is nothing he can say, and so he holds her, until she has no tears left.

The next weeks drag on quite the same, they pretend for their children, but Y/N struggles.

She sits the small council meeting, listening to news of Rhaenyra’s blockade and its effect on the kingdom.

The doors push open, revealing Aemond.

Y/N nearly churns. Balling her hands so tightly into fists the nails break skin.

“The key to victory is through the Riverlands.” Aemond narrates, “we need to establish a toehold there, at Harrenhal.”

Y/N pushes away from the table, trembling with the force of her rage.

Aegon reaches for her, feeling his heart sink as she backs away, with both arms wrapped around herself. Trapped beneath the watchful eyes of the council. “My darling, I did not invite him here.”

“Tis true,” Aemond confirms, “I am here of my own volition.”

There is that, at least.

“Do you have something to say, my queen?”

Y/N’s back remains to Aemond, and the strategy board, “Prince Aemond is a traitor and a murderer, who deserves to swing in the streets for what he has done. Instead he attends meetings of the small council. It is clear I hold little value to any member of this court. I will not sit here and listen to this depravity.”

“Y/N.” Aegon rises from his seat, shifting between feet, anxiously.

“I am through, my king.”

Aegon recoils as if she’s slapped him.

“Unless you are commanding me to stay,” she replies, with venom in her voice.

“Of course not, my dearest love.”

Y/N exits the double doors, moving down the hall at record speed.

Aegon twirls the council ball between his fingers to settle his racing heart. This was once his father’s seat, where his children would sit, back when all was as it should be. Now his children are not welcome and his wife would sooner abandon ship than remain at his side. “Get out.” He says to his brother.

Aemond sighs.

“Get out!” Aegon slams his fist against the table, “from now on, you will make yourself scarce amongst these halls. If you happen across my wife, you will make haste in the opposite direction, she will not be forced to look upon your face again. Do you understand?”

Aemond bows his head, “as you wish, your grace.”

Y/N retreats to her children’s rooms, finding them empty. They must be in with Helaena’s twins again. She finds the six of them in Jaehaera’s room, playing together while Helaena sews her tapestry.

“How is it coming along?” Y/N asks, taking a seat beside her.

“Quite well.”

“Glad to hear it.” Y/N taps at her wedding ring, “do you find it relaxing? Mayhaps I should take up sewing.”

“I’m afraid.” Helaena says, setting her work aside.

“Of what?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“The rats.”

Y/N nods, hoping to understand. “What is it about them that frightens you?”

Helaena falls silent, a far off look in her eyes.

“I could look into them.” Y/N offers, instead. “The rats.”

Helaena blinks at her. “Would you?”

“Yes, of course. Perhaps with proper knowledge of their ways you need not fear them.”

Helaena smiles, “that would be nice.”

“I will head down to the library then, once the children are abed.”

After their baths, princess Y/N brushes through each of her children’s hair in turn. Her two year old son sits in her lap first. Laenor’s hair has wave to it, like Aegon’s. She twists a bit of it around her finger.

“Mama,” the little boy begins bouncing, impatiently.

“Yes, sweet boy?”

“All done,” he tells her.

Y/N huffs a laugh, squeezing him in a hug before releasing him, “off you go then.”

Laenor giggles, bounding away happily.

“Alright, my darling girls, who is next?”

Dahlia looks to Visera, who stares back at her, exclaiming in unison, “I am!” The pair comes charging at her, landing in the small space, side by side.

“My goodness, you have gotten so big.” Y/N groans as she repositions them. Taking turns swiping the bristles through their long, silver, hair before weaving in simple braids, one down each of their backs.

“Where is father?” Dahlia wonders.

Y/N swallows, “performing his duties.”

“What about us?” Visera asks.

“Your father loves you dearly,” Y/N kisses each of their heads. “He wants nothing more than to be with you. Sometimes there are things we must do, for the sake of the crown that require us to be parted from those we love, for a short while.”

The girls nod.

“One day, when you are grown, you will understand. In the meantime, please know that his heart is with you, always. He will never be far.”

Visera and Dahlia turn, holding their mother tight.

“I will see you on the morrow.” Y/N pats their backs, watching them take to their beds.

Her youngest child is brought to her last, wrapped in a silk blanket and wailing at the top of his lungs.

Y/N stands to collect him. “Now, now, my prince, what business do you have causing all that fuss?” Y/N coos at the babe in her arms.

Aegon the fourth quiets instantly, staring up at his mother while kicking his little legs.

“That’s what I thought.” Y/N remarks, sitting down in the arm chair to rock him to sleep. “You are so loved, my darling.” She strokes his dark hair and his tired eyes begin to close, “sweet dreams.”

With the prince safely abed, Y/N leaves the children in the care of their guards and maids, to see what books they might have about rats in the library. The selection is limited, of course, so she decides on a bound copy recounting the great plague. Its pages contain great detail about the little critters and their lives.

She finds herself more engrossed in it than she could have anticipated. The princess hardly hears her husband enter their rooms.

“What story is that now, my dearest love?” He asks, shucking off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.”

Part 5

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago @kaysav608 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @wolflover384 @jaydemon99 @minttea07 @lightdragonrayne @baybaybear1

[sunnytarg]

PART 3 PART 3 PART 3!!

I need some A N S W E R S! 😂💖💖

This was honestly supposed to be one part but I think I have a problem with saying no to people lol.

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2

Tw: mentions of previous assault

Aemond doesn’t think much about that night with his niece after it happens. Of course, he had an extra pep in his step when he pulled on his breeches the next morning and looked down at his sleeping niece. She had looked absolutely ravished and it wasn’t hard for Aemond to push the noises of her whimpers and soft cries from his mind as he looks down at her.

His sister had walked into her daughter’s chambers without knocking, waking his niece and only slightly startling him. Aemond only flashes her a quick smirk before walking out of the room. He doesn’t know what lies his dear niece had told her mother and Aemond couldn’t find it in him to care.

For the first week after his night with his niece, all he can think about is her. Her naked body was soft and smooth under his touch. The way her cunt fluttered around him. He thought of his words to her and imagined her carrying his child.

He found himself fisting his cock at the thought of her. He had hoped that when he saw her in the corridors or outside when he was training, she might take it upon herself to sneak into his chambers. Despite his smirks and sly looks sent her way, he begins to notice her avoiding him.

When he steps away for a moment from training he glances up and sees his niece. She barely meets his eye before she looks away with a frown. She had looked both sad and angry.

For the first time since that night, he feels a twist in his gut. His dear sweet niece couldn’t even look at him. He knew that he had been rough with her and probably should’ve been kinder about taking her maidenhood, but his anger toward her brothers and his lust toward her had felt like it was boiling out of control that night.

Aemond hates how much she consumes his thoughts. He tries to forget about that night as shame begins to cloud any other feelings he had toward what he did. He doesn’t have to avoid her and she has already gone about avoiding him. Despite, his best attempts at trying to forget about her, at night, when it’s only him and his thoughts, his mind always wanders to his niece. Perhaps if he hadn’t gone to her that night and forced himself onto her, if he hadn’t been so callous and rough with her, he could have gone about courting her, and perhaps he would eventually have been able to bed her as his wife.

Forgetting her is soon thrown out of the window when he hears servants gossiping about the princess being pregnant. Despite him telling her that it would only be right for her to birth a bastard as she was one herself, he can’t help but picture her giving birth to a silver-haired child that he can call his.

The thought alone has him almost sprinting toward his mother’s chambers. When he enters, slightly out of breath but still composed, he finds not only his mother but his grandsire and half-sister already there. When his sister meets his eyes, he only receives a hard glare and he knows she’s remembering when he walked out of her daughter’s room two moons ago.

When he declares that he will take his niece to be his bride everyone in the room looks shocked. His grandsire, though, tells his mother that it would be a good union. His sister looks like she’s about to decline but then his mother finally speaks up and looks at her old friend with what Aemond can only guess is a hint of regret, “your daughter cannot do better than to marry a prince of the Realm.”

And just like that, Aemond found himself betrothed to his dear niece. His mother and sister fast-tracked the wedding and he knew it was because they didn’t want to have to explain why the babe in the princess's womb was born so early.

The entire week leading up to the wedding he had tried to seek the princess out. Talk to her for the first time since their night together a few moons ago but he couldn’t find her anywhere. Eventually, he realized that she had holed up in her chambers and would probably remain there until the wedding.

He bites the inside of his cheek so hard that it begins to bleed at the thought of not being able to speak with her until they were wed. He could just slip into her room, but the thought made his gut twist with guilt again. She was to be his Lady wife and he couldn’t dishonor her. Not again.

When he finally saw her again in the Sept on the day of their wedding, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was radiant. She didn’t have to dress in the most luxurious clothes or plaster on a fake smile like all of the other women at court to grab his attention.

When she stood beside him as they said their vows, he realizes for the first time, that he did not ask for her hand out of a sense of duty or go to her chamber that night out of revenge. As he looks into her sad eyes, he realizes that all of the feelings that he thought were anger and hatred were misplaced and he knew, just by looking at her as he covered her in his cloak, that since he was a child he had felt some sort of semblance of love towards her.

During the feast, that took place after the wedding, she did her best to ignore him. Truthfully, he couldn’t blame her but he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t sting a little when she would pull her hand away from him every time he went to hold it.

Aemond had only one request for their wedding and that was that there wouldn’t be a bedding ceremony. The Lords and Ladies of the court were not to touch him and his new wife and they would be in their new chambers alone.

His request was accepted easily, and when he stood in his new chambers with his wife as she began to undress, he couldn’t tell immediately why bile rose up in his throat. When she was left in her underclothes and made to crawl into the bed, clearly waiting for him to follow, he knew why he felt the way he did.

Their first night together, their only night together hadn’t been what he imagined but for her, it must have been a nightmare. He doesn’t think twice before he pulls his dagger from his waist and cuts his palm and smears it onto the sheets without saying anything to her. When she looks at him confused he only tells her that he will not take her to bed until she wants him to.

When she climbs into their large bed, he walks over to the chair by the fire. He had wanted this marriage. She didn’t.

After that night, Aemond tries his best to mend their fractured relationship. He wants to build a friendship with her first before they can even approach the more sexually intimate part of a marriage. It’s the least he could do for her.

They do share a bed at night, though, he doesn’t want the servants running around gossiping about his marriage.

It takes some time for his wife to stop flinching away from him. When he’s not training, he’s spending time with her. Whether it’s reading a book as she embroiders or if it’s her allowing him close enough to let him whisper High Valyrian to her swelling stomach, he’s almost always with her.

Eventually, laughter and joy find their way into the marriage and Aemond isn’t surprised to find himself truly falling in love with his niece. He doesn’t know if she feels the same and he has come to terms that perhaps she may never feel the same, but he thinks he’ll be fine with that as long as she no longer flinches from his touch or avoids him.

Several moons have passed since they were wed and his niece and nephew were begging to go fly on Vaghar and Dreamfyre with him and their mother. It was something that he used to do before his wife was so heavy with child. Now, he found it difficult to leave her side since the maesters told them that her labors would start any day.

His wife, clearly frustrated with his hovering, had pushed him to go flying with Helaena and her children. Aemond had reluctantly agreed.

It was easy to lose track of the time while soaring through the skies, so when they entered the castle again and his mother’s knight, Ser Criston, had found him and told him that his wife had started her labors just after he left, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

He rushes to their chambers and finds himself hesitant before entering. For several moons now, since she had started to warm up to him and he began to make amends to her, he had thought that he would be by her side as she brought their child into this world. He had promised he’d hold her hand and be there for their child’s first cry but as he stands outside of the chamber doors, he doesn’t hear the sounds of a woman in labor nor does he hear a newborn babe crying.

He tries not to think the worst as he enters their chambers.

Instead of seeing what he feared, he sees his wife, sweaty but smiling tiredly down at the bundle in her arms.

He finds himself frozen to the spot until she beckons him. When he’s standing over his wife and newborn babe, he feels his heart flutter in his chest. He brings one of his fingers to his child’s head and lightly strokes the barely there strands of silver hair.

When he finally tears his eyes away from the cooing infant, he looks up to see his wife smiling at him.

“I was thinking we could name her Valaena,” she said softly. Aemond whispered the name to their daughter and watched as she blinked her brown eyes, the eyes she inherited from her mother, up at him.

“I think that sounds perfect, my love.”

Aemond hadn’t noticed his slip of words as he took his daughter into his arms and cooed back at her but his wife did. She blinked, surprised at the name, and then slowly let a smile take over her face as she looked at her husband and daughter.

-

Taglist: @ly17 || @spn-obession || @noirsabbat ||

[moonmaiden1996]

Divine Devotion

OsferthxReaderxAemond Musing

No warnings...for now

The marriage between Prince Aemond and Osferth, their Lady wife, is one of the most unusual things about the Dance of the Dragon era; it remains one of the fascinating subjects to emerge from this period.

Though Septon Gement laments the loss of Osferth from the order, in his records, he even goes as far as to state that Osferth could have brought a new age of reformation to the faith of the seven. Archmaester Godwin states the marriage of the 2nd and 3rd sons to their good Lady wife brought much stability to Westeros and the Targaryens.

Though some maintain the marriage and tensions between the brothers, the marriage appears happy, sharing a chamber and children. Maester Mallos wrote, "while both graces were shocked at Osferth's wish to leave the house of the seven, the fervent sincerity in which he proclaimed the Mother had shown him persuaded the King and Court that the All-Mother wished the trio to marry. Thus the King announced their engagement and entered a new age.

" I... do not understand..." Alicent stared wide at her youngest, his golden robes almost glowing in the light of the small council chambers. "The house of the Seven has always been your desire. "The queen's eyes showed with tears as she learnt forward, cradling his head in her shaking palms. His hair was cropped short in the style of the brotherhood, a golden shimmer to his pale strands the only feature that set him apart from his brother, apart from his mutilated eye.

"I am and always will be devoted to the Seven. This is why I must marry... because she has given me divine insight." Osferth’s voice was soft, eyes bright in the harsh candlelight.

"Oh, Osferth... "Alicent cooed, sadness and shame etched in every feature of her perfect face.

"Talk sense, boy," Otto growled from beside the King, who silently watched on.

"I have been granted a vision from the Mother herself. She has shown me her will and wish. One that I am obliged to follow….alongside my brother and our bride.’’ The youngest Prince's voice never faltered despite the hushed uproar from the member of the small council.

"You have been promised to the Seven. It is your duty to complete your oath. This matter is closed... now... "Otto snapped, cut off by the High Septa.

"Apologies, my Lord hand, but the matter is not... Osferth came to me with his vision... We have confirmed beyond is reasonable doubt that these are indeed blessings from the Mother. She has seen that Osferth and Aemond must marry the good Lady to benefit the kingdom and humanity. We must not delay." The Septon bristled, a mummer of support coming from the other Septons as they crowded outside the Chamber, looking in on the council.

"This is ludicrous...’’ Otto began, his waxy complexion greying as he shook in quiet rage.

“You dare question the Mother...’

"Aemond, are you happy with this? "Alicent voice calls behind to the brooding dragon rider, cutting the Septon off from a long-winded sermon.

"Osferth has relaid the... Obligation... I will do my duty as a prince of the realm, whatever father sees fit. "Aemond purred quietly, eyebright as it settled on his brother gleefully.

Visery’s eyes narrowed at Aemond. "Does the Lady know?" Visery's soft voice broke through the Chamber.

"No... we thought we must discuss with you, your Grace. The Lady in question is most dutiful. She will not deny both the King and the seven." The Septon smiled.

Visery suspicious eyes wandered between his two sons; they were so alike yet different. Light and dark. Day and Night. Even as small boys though painstakingly similar as if carved from the same marble, their personality temperament so different that they could scarily sit through a feast without one or the mother sending the other into a tantrum, yet now they were perfectly content to oppose the small council together.

‘’I do not believe the Court or the people would take kindly to such union, a rather orthodox marriage. Would it not be better for just one  of  them to marry the good Lady in question?’ The King mused, watching as both his son’s eyes darkened, lips turning downward ever so slightly as his question.

‘’I can assure you, my King, that once knowledge of Osferth’s vision spreads, there will not be a man or woman who would mumble a word against it. Osferth is well known for his goodness and selfless deeds, and Aemond... has always been a dutiful son. The Lady is a rather inoffensive, demure creature. She must be made to marry both, else wise the Mother may be offended and curse us all.’’

"Otto, High Septon, please announce an audience gathering to the Court. It seems that this marriage must take place through some divine intervention.’ Visery’s glared at his son, eyeing his wife as she broke into tears of joy.

‘’My king, we are so blessed.’ She gushed as she pressed each son to her in turn.

‘’Hmm, We are honoured to be gifted a new daughter so becoming… and one that has never been so far from there from their gaze or affection.’’ Visery’s muttered eyes trained on his sons while his wife gushed and cradled the boys between her, oblivious to their darkening violet gaze.

I just had to write this. It has been in my head for ages. I can see Osferth and Aemond being such sweethearts together, Aemond being the strong possessive fighter and Osferth being the cute, shy devotee, both jealous of the other, trying to one-up each other constantly. I might write a more, or a smutty version once I get out my next chapter ‘Claiming his Queen.’’

[peterjakes]

aemond tarygaren - ‘all you have is your fire’

Prince Aemond Targaryen has a black heart.

But maybe, just maybe, there is more to the one-eyed Targayren Prince than he cares to admit.

Maybe.

recently finished hotd and now I understand everything

thought it would be fun to write about aemond and his feelings bc he definitely is one of the most interesting characters

potentially may write some more bits

thank you for reading x

also posted on ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/46345318

Prince Aemond Targaryen had a black heart. It was what had been said so many times, over so many years. He had been told so often that he believed it to be true. And it was true. His heart was as black as the hole left in his face, the constant reminder of what was taken from him. He had rectified that however, he had made himself whole again, in the only way he could. The sapphire would often glimmer in the moonlight, one of the only times it was ever allowed to be free from the eye-patch that kept it hidden so often. Aemond wasn’t ashamed of it, no other Targaryen sported something so thrilling. It made him different. Made him who he was. Aemond ‘One-Eye’, that was what they called him. Better than his half-sister, ‘The Realm’s Delight’, he would sometimes smirk at the thought of that.  

But in the darkness, when it was just Aemond and Aemond alone, the smirking would stop. The sniggering. The arrogance. The entitlement. It would all disappear. Aemond made a choice to keep his eye hidden, not wanting to present himself in any way that would appear unseemly. His mother wouldn’t approve, and she only wanted what was best for her children. But alone in his bedchambers, with no one there to scold him, to stare, to whisper, Aemond would remove the eye-patch. It wasn’t uncomfortable to wear, and after so many years, Aemond had become accustomed to it. But it wasn’t natural. He couldn’t hide, not from himself.  

After bathing, Aemond would find himself wandering over to the looking glass. He didn’t mind admitting during the daylight he would often glimpse at his own appearance. But once the darkness found him, it was different. The shadows wouldn’t hide what was clear to see, the Gods never lied and even Aemond Targaryen couldn’t hide from the truth. It was ugly, the scar that sat across Aemond’s face. Trailing from above his eyebrow down to his dense cheek. The Maester was correct that night, the scar would heal but the damage to his eye…gone. It was gone. Aemond couldn’t look at himself for almost a year after that night. His 10-year-old self would gloat about his dragon, about Vhagar. The smugness was almost too much, even for himself. But deep down, further than even Aemond could go, there was only sadness. His face would never be the same. He would live with a giant reminder of how he had been beaten by a child. A younger child. The stitches in his face ached, the cut would often bleed, dripping down Aemond’s cheek during the night, the healing seemed to go on for an eternity.  

But that wasn’t just it. He had lost an eye. Blinking, winking, seeing, all had to be learned again. He had to take more care with things, he had to go a little slower, which was not what Aemond wanted to do. There never seemed to be too much rivalry between Aemond and his older brother, they made sure to keep that for their blessed nephews. But any competition that did exist between the two seemed to disappear after that night. Aegon never saw his younger brother as anything else but just that. He may have claimed the dragon, he may have claimed Vhagar, but he couldn’t compete with Aegon. Not with anything that mattered. Things altered that night, in more ways than one. It just took Aemond some time to realise it.  

After that night, Aemond took more interest in the young prince’s training with Ser Criston. He would make sure to practice twice as much as his brother, work twice as hard, use twice as much force. This was one of the only ways Aemond could stop that night from engulfing him. The only way he could become free of those shackles. Free of that torture of reliving that night every single day. He would practice in the yard with Ser Criston during the daylight. He would sneak off after dinner. He would eventually be given his very own sword, one that wasn’t wooden! That was a fine day, one Aemond would even allow himself a small smile at. Soon after, still young in his years, Aemond was proud to boast himself as one of the best swordsmen in the capitol.  

His face had grown around the scar, and even though it had grown small, it still haunted him. The eye-patch he would sport every day couldn’t hide it. It would always be there. A constant reminder of that night, of what his nephew had done to him. Oh, the embarrassment! Aemond would never admit that to another soul, not for all of his days, not even on his deathbed. But it wasn’t just anger Aemond felt, or even humiliation but sadness, there was sadness too. There was more sadness than Aemond cared to admit, even to himself. Watching his appearance in the looking glass, the sadness became clearer to him.  

Aemond’s index finger would drag alongside the skin, trying to find the roughness. This had disappeared years ago, the scar seemed to become part of his face now. He didn’t flinch at the touch; not like he had that night at the hands of the Maester as he had finished the stitches. Not like he had when Aegon had treated a 13-year-old Aemond to a night far from the Red Keep, down in the depths of Flea Bottom, somewhere Aemond would never want to venture down again. But that was different. Aemond knew how to touch it without aggravating it. Those women did not. If those memories ever appeared to Aemond during these late nights, he would often try to be rid of them, not wanting to relive the confusion, the rough hands, the giggles. No. Aemond would not visit those tonight. Tonight, another memory would surround him.  

The night he had lost his eye, Aemond hadn’t realised what that truly meant. An eye for an eye, that was what his mother had wanted. That was never to be, but that no longer mattered. He had something far more important. Yes, he had a dragon. Vhagar, the biggest of them all. At only 10 years old, he rode the dragon for the first time, claiming it as his own. He was a natural now, spending hours upon hours as a young boy riding the dragon. He was so skilled now it was as easy as walking or falling asleep. But that wasn’t all. A dragon was something, yes. But Aemond had something no one else did, not even his siblings. He had a reason.  

Aemond was never going to be a kind young boy, never gentle or sweet. Fierce, bold, hot-tempered. That was who he was, through and through. And that night had only exemplified it. When his younger nephew had maimed him, he was shocked, hurt, in pain. There was a sense of anger, that somehow Aemond had been bested by his younger. But as he had told his mother, Vhagar was now his. His eye would not heal, but that didn’t matter. He had won, in a way. But Aemond had time to think over the years, the mull things over. Things had changed. Seeing the Strong bastards after so much time apart seemed to evoke this. The way they stood alongside their whor-, no, alongside their mother. His half-sister may have committed many acts, but she was still his sister, still their sister. But those dark-haired bastards…Aemond couldn’t stomach them, not for much longer. Their entitlement, how superior they seemed, the way they would smile at each other in a way Aemond never smiled at Aegon. In a way Helaena would never look at Aemond. Why that was, Aemond did not know. It was as if they were flaunting their mother’s sin for all to see. As if it was some joke, that they had managed to trick the realm. Trick the King, their grand sire. But they couldn’t trick Aemond.  

From a young age, Aemond, along with his siblings had been instilled by their mother that Rhaenyra was no better than them. That they too were true-born children of Viserys, of the King. They deserved respect. They were important. This seemed to make both Aemond and his brother, Aegon, believe they were better. Not just better than their half-sister, but than anyone else. Confidence, not arrogance, that was what Aemond believed it to be. They knew their worth, and there was nothing wrong with that. Alicent Hightower had doted on her sons, more so than her daughter, Helaena. Aemond had noticed that growing up, the way she would watch him and his brother. She wouldn’t ignore his sister, but there was something different. Swee t Helaena , she would call her. Sweet Helaena who would play with her bugs, speak in riddles, and avoid Aegon’s eye. Helaena certainly wasn’t arrogant, not in the way her brothers had to be. The whole notion of their half-sister seemed to undermine them. The female heir. Her bastard sons. All of it was completely insufferable. Aemond could see how it vexed his mother. How his father was entirely oblivious. How his grandfather plotted. Aemond could see it all.  

Aemond loved his family, he would do anything for them, kill for them, die for them. He loved his mother, though her tired eyes she would often wear never seemed to flicker over to his. Since his father’s illness, which seemed to become quicker and quicker each day, Aemond became a confidant of his mother. She would ask for his counsel, which he would of course gladly give. He would gladly do anything for her. Both knew that asking or even involving Aegon was not a good idea, no good could ever come from it. Aemond never attended any of the Small Council meetings but could rely on his weekly visits to his mother’s chambers to hear the news of the day. He would listen, he would advise, he would muse, all for his mother. However, it was only recently that Aemond had realised how little he had asked of her, how little she had taken interest in what he had to say. This thought seemed to cloud every other of his mother.  

He loved his sister, Helaena, wanted to protect her from harm’s way. Wanted to make sure her children were safe. Though he knew the type of husband his brother was, he seemed powerless to stop it. If his mother had betrothed them instead of Aegon, things may have been different. He would have done his duty to both his mother and his sister. Perhaps Helaena wouldn’t seem so lost, perhaps she would spend more time in the present. Perhaps she would be happy. But that wasn’t to be, and Aemond hadn’t thought of it often. He would think of his brother’s children, the twins, the way they would latch onto Aemond when he would visit his sister in the mornings. He would think of how he had only seen his older brother visit his children once and the wine escaping from Aegon’s breath would fill up the room. He would think of how Helaena’s face would light up when Aemond would play the same little game with her children. That was what was important, more than anything.  

There only seemed to be two women in Westeros that Aemond would admit a care for. No other deserved it. Though it seemed those two women who Aemond could let his guard down with, could let that face he would wear so often disappear, were faltering. Helaena grew more distance by the day, speaking in riddles that not even Aemond could understand. And his mother…his mother, she was not herself, not who Aemond remembered when he was a child. She doted on Aemond as a young boy, would do anything for him. But she seemed so drained, so exhausted. Her days were filled with visiting her husband's chambers, listening to the Small Council bore her and worrying about Aegon. Things had changed.  

And his father, Viserys. Aemond loved his father the way any son would. But Aemond had often wondered whether Viserys I had loved his children by his mother the way he had loved his first-born. Viserys didn’t look like Aemond remembered as a boy. His face was gaunt, slowly drooping more every single day. Aemond had only visited Viserys a few times, it being requested by his mother and dutifully obeying her. But Aemond couldn’t stomach it for more than a few moments. There was a sense of poetic justice, as if all of those years of favouring his eldest daughter, of ignoring his other children, berating Aemond, had finally caught him and were punishing him for it. These thoughts were not clean, they were not thoughts that the Gods would want Aemond to have. Whenever these thoughts arose in his mind, he would be sure to visit the Sept later that night and pray profusely for their forgiveness.  

But that love he felt for his family, it seemed futile in comparison to his half-sister and the way her little gang of bastards would hang onto her and Aemond’s uncle. Daemon Targaryen. Quite possibly the only man Aemond would ever cower down too. Aemond thought of his grandfather, his mother’s father, the Hand of the King. Aemond knew he could so easily beat him in a sword fight, though he believed that was not his grandfather’s idea of fighting. His words were his venom. Something Aemond had picked up on, but still hadn’t exactly mastered as of yet.  

These two men…Aemond wasn’t afraid , no, that was not it. He knew the power they held, particularly his grandfather. He could see the way Otto Hightower lorded it over his daughter, something that made Aemond uneasy. He was his mother’s son after all. Even as a parent in her own right, a mother, the Queen , Aemond could see the way she would still look for her father’s guidance. Aemond did not have the same privilege. His own father had scarcely recognised him the last time he had visited his chambers. Perhaps it was the milk of the poppy he would so diligently drink. Or perhaps it was his truth. His truth that he never truly cared about Aemond, never saw him for who he was, never saw his son. Viserys had mistaken Aemond for his younger brother, Daemon, more than once. Oh, how that vexed Aemond! To be compared to someone so snide.  

There was a time, a very short period of time, when Aemond looked up to his uncle. Daemon Targaryen, a ruthless man. Aemond had heard of the stories, from his father mostly, the Hightowers did not have a high opinion of the man, particularly Aemon’s grandfather. He truly despised him, perhaps in the same way Aemond despised his nephews. But Daemon, he was a true warrior, a fighter. Aemond heard of how daring and dangerous his uncle could be during his youth. Heard of his skills in the joust, hunting, and swordplay, something a young Aemond could only dream of. He heard of The Stepstones, and of Dark Sister. These feelings of admiration were quickly squashed by his grandfather. And then his mother. Aegon. And finally, Aemond himself. He wished to no longer feel anything but hatred for his uncle. It was what he deserved.  

But it was not his uncle that plagued Aemond’s thoughts. During these dark, long nights, the ones that Aemond would have all to himself, there were certain things he would try to admit to himself. These were things he could never in the daylight, never with his mother, not even with the Gods in the Sept. The darkness would allow it; however, the darkness would even welcome it. It would take some time, but when the admittance came, Aemond would feel a sense of relief.  

Some nights were easier than others. Some nights Aemond would toss and turn in his bed clothes but couldn’t force himself to walk over to the looking glass. Some nights Aemond would remove his eye-patch and allow his working eye to gaze over at the ceiling, following the markings that surrounded the room. Some nights he would remove the sapphire that he so proudly bore during the day to just feel some release. But the other nights, the nights when Aemond was not strapped down to his bed, the nights when with all his might Aemond would force himself up, the nights when Aemond could be brave, he would face it. Face them , even. These feelings, these thoughts, they circled his mind, they spoke to him whenever he was alone, they would always find him. Practising in the yard. Eating dinner with his family. Reading in the library. Watching his sister’s children play. Watching his mother drift off to sleep after a long day. They were always there, always watching.  

What were they exactly? Aemond found it hard to pinpoint that. Sometimes it was anger. Sometimes sadness. Sometimes a sense of not belonging. Sometimes disruption. But there was one that always seemed to linger far longer than any other. Jealousy. That was what it was. Such an awful word. Such an awful feeling. He was jealous. Aemond. Yes, he was jealous. Of what? So many things, too many things. Of his brother, Aegon, how every little mistake he made was seemingly forgotten. Of how it was expected for Aemond to pick up the pieces, to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Of how his mother would endure so much with little reward, and yet his half-sister could do no wrong in the eyes of Aemond’s father. Of how Helaena could live so freely, without worry. Of his bastard nephews. Of Jacaerys. Of Joffrey. And of Lucerys, damn Lucerys. It was more than jealousy that Aemond felt for the middle child of his half-sister. He had taken, stolen from Aemond. Aemond was hurt at the time, but the anger he felt now for his young nephew was all-consuming.  

Lucerys owed him. A debt hadn’t been paid that night he took his eye. That debt had waited and waited, just as Aemond had. But it seemed that Aemond may not have to wait much longer. The bastard boys, alongside their mother, had arrived back in Kings Landing, after so many years away. They had finally come, after years and years. Aemond knew his father did not have long left. Aemond felt almost vindicated at that thought. He may be his father, but he did not father Aemond the way he would have liked, the way he should have done. Aemond did not care whether he should admit that or not. He did not care if it was sinful, or if the Gods would punish him so. It was the truth; plain and simple.  

But the Strong bastards had come back, right into Aemond’s trap. They had come for their claim to Driftmark, for their claim to his father’s throne. Selfish reasons. It was almost laughable, really. But Aemon would have his chance, he knew that. He would have it, and he would make sure to take it, no matter what.  

Maybe Aemon did have a black heart. Maybe his heart wasn’t pure or true. But it was the way he liked it. The way it had to be.  

[dulcewrites]

The corpose bride au coming soon? 👀 What you wrote was really sweet but tragic!

I was just thinking about how can I make them (fmo reader and Aemond) tragic but with a twist. The possibility of her marry someone other than Aemond has came up (Aegon in particular). But like how better off, as a woman in the realm (one with money but nonetheless a woman), would she truly be. Alicent is basically a case study of you can be in the “best” position in the realm and still go through insanely horrible shit (tw for mentions of pregnancy problems)

- reader still goes to court with her family BUT her and Helaena do not become close. They are cordial but nowhere near how they are in fmo. Then reader is not pseudo intergrated into the family pre marriage. There is no Helaena dropping hints that it would be great to have reader as a sister

- her parents set their sights on somewhere else. A house that can bring something to the table (This has me thinking, like yeah reader’s kids being targs and having dragons is a big deal for their house but outside of that… Aemond is a second son. Reader wouldn’t be getting anything else outside of her kid’s possibly having dragons)

- she gets married off to some old Grafton lord. She’s his third wife by this point. He’s clearly not a good man but he’s loaded and so far has only had girls between his first two marriages.

- things are ok at first. Reader isn’t miserable which she considers a win (poor thing the bar is so low). It’s not until her first miscarriage that things start to get bad. The stress of carrying to term is putting too much stress on her body

- by three years in she’s had three pregnancies but only one baby born. Her little girl. She’s of course happy bc she feels like she’s built her own little family even if her husband sucks. But her husband wants a boy, and despite the signs that reader’s body can’t do it. She gets pregnant again. Y’all can probably guess what happens next

- much like the first ep of hotd, she goes into labor, something goes wrong and her husband essentially sacrifices her for a boy. So now her baby girl and boy are raised by a loser father (shoutout to rhaenyra)

- now onto Aemond. He’s unmarried, still a loner loser (affectionately tho). Viserys dies, and Otto sends him off to storm’s end to secure more allies and a wife. We know what happens lmao. It’s so hard being a one eyed sexy dragon riding Prince with manic tendencies 🙏🏽

- nervous to face his family after what happened, he takes a detour. Ends up taking a turn instead back home towards the Crownlands. gives Vhagar a stern talking to (in meemaw’s head she’s like ‘but visenya I helped you???’). He begins to wander a bit into the woods of some place he clearly doesn’t recognize.

- Aemond had a sapphire ring. As nervous tick, he plays with it. While he drops it, he’s going over his head all things he could say his mom to make things better. “I love you, I’m sorry this happened” etc. Now our reader ever the romantic, and maybe a bit delusional, hears that and is like well ok 🤓😍 thinking this is all for her!

- reader takes him away, we will pull from the movie and say she takes him to the land of the dead. Aemond is like nah babes you’re hot for a dead girl BUT I can’t marry you.. I’m like.. living. Reader is like that can be changed, if you stay down here long enough. Or if you stab yourself or something (now this triggers him considering recent events💀)

- they end up talking about how they ended up there. Aemond reveals he never meant for the luke thing to happened. Like yeah he hates the kid and probably always will but that was NOT how that was supposed to go down. I think he’d super broken up about how he once again gonna painted as the bad guy.. when HE was the one that lost his eye. He probably talks about how much couldve been avoided with a better father. Reader talks about her marriage (Aemond feels extra bad bc she’s giving him the Alicent sad eyes plus her story (being married off young and maritally raped) is giving his mother)

- for a moment, Aemond thinks maybe being dead and her husband wouldn’t be so bad. He even wonders how his life would’ve been if he noticed her while she was at court 👀

- she realizes that Aemond is someone’s kid. What good is her taking him from his mom and family who need him. reader agrees to help him get to where he needs to go, if he makes it so she can see her kids one last time. Aemond is like “I’ll do you one better” he’s already gonna be considered a kinslayer.. what’s one more body at this point.

- in the end, Aemond goes back home. The only person who ends knowing about what really happened with Luke is reader. Things go about the way they do in the dance.. I like to think Aemond and her meet up in the afterword after the battle above the god’s eye (let’s pretend Aemond didn’t kill a bunch of people and they are going to the same place 🙏🏽). Probably further bond on leaving their kids behind :((((

[genz420]

The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 89: The Dragon and Raven.

Master List

Pervious Part - Next Part

138 - Harrenhal  

Aemond had called Ben to Visenya and his room, wanting the knight to rewrap Visenya's hands since she had ripped them apart trying to take off the braces on her hands.  The one-eye prince had left the room as soon as Ben had arrived, leaving Visenya and Ben alone.  

“What’s wrong?” Ben asks, the quietness is getting to him, and he isn’t so used to not talking when he is with Visenya.  They always find something to talk about, but whenever he tries to start a conversation with her, she shuts it down and stays quiet.   

Ben can see her mind working, flickering between her hands that he is wrapping and him.  She could keep what she feels to herself and hope it doesn’t cloud her mind when they head west, or she can just get out with it.  

“I’m worried,” Visenya answers, the uneasy feeling in her stomach still eating away. “About Aemond, about us going West, Dalton, the Greens, I’m worried about everything,”

Ben watches Visenya, how her eyebrows are scrunched together and her jaw is clenched.  He is glad that she is being honest, but he wonders if the news he can give her would bring her some ease, but he doubts it will.   Ben might be able to know things before they happen but to tell Visenya that the future is filled with death and loss would not do her any good.  

“Aemond is going to be fine, and I am going to keep you safe,” Ben assures Visenya; he knows that he can promise to keep her safe, but he shouldn’t be promising anything about protecting Aemond.  

“Who is going to keep him safe?”  Visenya asks, leaning closer against the table.  She doesn’t doubt that Ben will have her back like always, but she worries about who will keep Aemond safe.  

“I think his ancient and scary dragon will,” Ben answers with a smile.  He finds it sweet how worried she seems about Aemond, even though he has a dragon keeping him safe.  

Visenya shakes her head.  She knows that Vhagar is a powerful dragon and could make sure Aemond is safe, but the dragon has gotten old, and who knows if she could handle another war.  Visenya also knows that Aemond could protect himself in the capital's siege; he probably has better sword skills than she does now.  

“I think Laenor should go with him just so that they have the protection of two dragons,” Visenya tells Ben, letting her thoughts wander.  She does think it is a good idea to send Laenor with Aemond for protection but also because she doesn’t want to see him.  “Maybe Cannibal as well,”

“I would rather us have two dragons rather than just one,” Ben tells her; the two would be down a fighter, and he doesn’t want to be down a dragon.  He might not get along with the old dragon, but he seems rather protective over Visenya, which would be great to have while they are in the West.  

“But the majority of the dragons are going to be East; Cannibal has already killed Tessarion, so-”

“What’s worrying you?” Ben cuts her off, her rambling, telling him something else is going on instead of just Aemond being safe.  

Visenya looks away from Ben and down at the table, studying the wood like it is the most exciting thing in the realm.  Taking a deep breath and blinking away the tears in her eyes, she doesn’t know why she is crying, and she can’t help but be angry at herself for being emotional.  

Ben watches her, slightly worried, and he prays that Aemond doesn’t return before he can get the truth out of her or Rob to bring them to the hall.  Visenya swallows the lump in her throat and looks at Ben, breathing through her nose to try and control her breathing and stay calm. 

“I can’t lose him,” Visenya says, her voice barely above a whisper like if she speaks the words, Balerion would come from Valyria and steal Aemond away.   “I don’t know what I would do without him,” 

“We aren’t going to send Cannibal with them,” Ben tells her, his voice full of assurance and authority.  He wants to ensure she understands that they will not deviate from the plan she has worked hard to make happen.  

Visenya looks away from the table and at him.  She can spare one of her dragons, having Morghon and Seasmoke watch over Aemond and ensure he is safe.  Cannibal would be the better option because he would be more than happy to eat any dragon that might pose a threat, but then he might choose to eat Vhagar.  

“But-”

“Aemond is fully able to keep himself safe, and Vhagar might be old, but she has seen more war than any other dragon alive,” Ben stops her and grabs ahold of her hands, he wants to give her some peace of mind but he doesn’t want to promise anything.   “Aemond will be fine,”

“Are you telling me that to ease my nerves or because you know he will be okay?” Visenya asks, she would love to have Helaena here to spit out some weird verse that she might be able to figure out, but she would consider easing her mind if Ben tells him that he will be safe. 

“He’s going to be okay, and so are you,” Ben answers, kissing her hands up to his lips. 

Visenya nods as she leans back in her seat, they have time before the final meeting with the lords, and she might spend it going over any little thing that might go wrong.  Visenya looks towards her and Aemonds bed; not too long ago, they were in it together, and now a dress that Aemond has instituted she wears tonight lays on it.   

Ben sits back in his chair; Aemond insists that he keeps Visenya busy while he keeps the children busy.  He hadn’t questioned why Aemond wanted to spend time with the kids rather than Visenya. Still, he feels the two had a rather tense conversation where Visenya had taken control of the situation.  Ben doesn’t want Visenya to leave the room, knowing that Rob would have his head if she saw what the Riverland lord is planning for her. 

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