#velaryon boys an aemond in background

[pulksten-blog]

we lost daeron..

[queers-gambit]

When Pride Married Prejudice

[ part two ]

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: in the beginning, your mother delivers disturbing news, but perhaps, not all is as it seems.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 9.7k+

warnings: spoilers, cursing, small angst, 150% filler, small background, author breaks the fourth wall once but go with it - i promise it works. author is also given free rein of her imagination and this came out...hmm... ❗️major season one, episode seven spoilers

"What?" You asked with a beg over the sounds of the crashing waves on the cliffside your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, had lead you out to stand on. She had just delivered devastating news with a sympathetic gaze, making you beg her again, "Say it's not true, Mother, please, no, no. Th-This isn't... Mum, how could this happen?"

"I am truly sorry, my sweet girl," Rhaenyra sighed, nodding at you as her hands caressed both your cheeks to sweep stray tears as they fell. Her forehead met yours, making her whisper, "But while I could not stop the entire proposal, I was able to bargain for leeway."

"What does that mean?" You pulled back to look into her lavender eyes. They were full of sadness and regret.

"You will remain at Dragonstone with your family, so I might continue to teach you - and so you do not have to interrupt your other studies. But..." She sighed deeply, blinking a few times to clear her thoughts.

"But?"

"They want you married before you turn ten-and-eight."

"No," you blanched, shaking your head in refusal to free yourself of her comforting hold, "they cannot make me marry him. Mother, please, do not let this happen."

"I could only barter for us a few years yet, my love."

"This is the payment they demand?"

"Better this, my sweet dove, then that of blinding your brother," she countered with a frown. "The Queen was unwilling to barter at first, but the King thought it a rightful proposal."

"And who, might I ask, offered my hand to Aemond Targaryen for payment over a childish squabble - that, yes, did maim the boy, but that's not... It's not like... Oh, Gods, yes, okay, when I say it out loud, I suppose I can understand the reasoning. Then why does this still feel so wrong, Mother?"

She frowned and reached for you, pulling you in closer to hold. You clung to her in fright, allowing yourself a moment of rare vulnerability as you stood alone; the only sounds around you, that, of the temperamental sea. She spoke softly in your ear, "I am truly so very sorry, my sweet girl. I am." Her hand pet the back of your head, but her grip remained strong. "But there is honor in fulfilling one's duty. I wanted very different things for you, but fate is funny at times."

You tightened your hold on her. "Tell me the truth, Mother, what's happened?"

She sighed and laid a long, solemn kiss to the top of your head. "You are of an age now that you will understand." She gave a soft pinch to your chin, "And have always been much too mature for your age."

You chuckled softly, "I often think there's much you don't know about me. I am not the perfect child you've tried to mold me into."

"Oh, I know everything, my girl," she grinned, making you feel heated from embarrassment. "You were truly restless as a child, it was hard to keep you within the castle walls. But might I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"Ser Harwin was always looking after you," she chuckled. "He would take extra shifts in the night to patrol the city just to ensure you were safe. But what he reported back always made my heart swell with genuine pride."

"Might I tell you a secret?" She nodded and let one hand hold your upper arm and the other to caress an unruly strand of hair back behind your ear. "I always wondered if one day, you would name me your heir... So, when I could not sleep, I liked to linger around the city. I liked knowing the people, thinking, if I were to ever govern them, I'd better know them best."

"See?" She nodded. "Always far too mature for your age. Yet the matter of succession with us has differed..." You braced yourself. "You are my eldest child, and my only girl," she spoke fondly. "And when my Father named me his heir, going against decades of tradition, I always promised myself that I would not do the same to my daughter unless I had no choice. I would never make her endure what I was forced to. Yet, you were still young when Jace was born, and your Father and I had a conversation. Should the matter come up publicly, you were always to be heir to Dragonstone, and that was the end of the matter. When Luke was born... Things shifted again, but only just. You were still my heir to our home, but now, Jace is to be my heir after I take the Throne, and then Luke is to succeed his father's birthright to Driftmark."

"And now? With Joffrey?"

"Much will be discussed later," she promised. "But I have declared to the King that you are to inherit our home on Dragonstone, and there is no change in that. He approved, but..."

"But what?"

"He also approved of your hand being offered," she swallowed thickly.

"You would tell me in truth what has happened?" You nodded, holding onto her waist to keep yourselves anchored. She nodded, sighing deeply before starting her tale.

And yet, Dear Reader, to fully understand, we need to go back.

Your hand was held tightly in your father's ever since he received news of his beloved sister, Laena Velaryon, passing away due to complications from childbirth. In an effort to avoid being sliced open and bleeding out to death, Laena had risen from her bloody birthing bed, and hobbled outside to beg her dragon, Vhagar, to let her meet her end through dragon fire.

Neither your Mother, nor Father, the Lord Laenor, knew you had snuck into the study and read the scroll sent to them by your Great Uncle Daemon - who gave an honest recount of events.

Now, he and his two twin daughters, your cousins, Rhaena and Baela, were flying from across the Narrow Sea to lay the charred bones of Laena to rest on her ancestral home. And because Laena was a Velaryon before she took the name Targaryen, she was to be launched into the sea by means of an intricately carved coffin.

She'd rest with other Velaryon's at the bottom of the raging waters.

Laenor stood stoically as his Uncle Vaemond spoke in High Valyrian, proceeding over the funeral service as your entire family - both Velaryon and Targaryen - had gathered to pay their respects. Laena's coffin, which was carved to encapsulate her ethereal beauty, was set to a launching-cliff, and ropes were thread around to push and plunge her into the crashing waves beneath.

However, as Vaemond spoke clearly above them all, he was offering dirty, hardened looks to your Mother as she held your younger brothers around the shoulders. For a moment, you thought it looked as if they were shielding their mother, and you, who had inherited the Velaryon-Targaryen trademark features, stood between them and your father; creating a visual divide, unknowingly.

But you didn't think that way.

Your only concern right now was being there for your sweet, honorable Father, as he grieved silently with tears sliding down his cheeks. His hand was tight, and you knew he drew strength from your presence.

Daemon stood across the way, somewhat beside Vaemond, and could observe those around him as he stood with his hands crossed in front of him. Vaemond's words were veiled with threat, head turning to stare directly at your mother, "Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true." King Viserys even recognized the tone; sparing a look to his daughter, who pulled her sons closer. "And ours must never run thin."

And then, oddly, Daemon started to chuckle.

Oh, one could chalk it up to hysteria of a grieving husband, but you knew better. You were a sponge in the courts and listened to everything said; forming your own opinions and often needing to sort through what you'd heard to form something of a mixed-truth.

You knew of the rumors surrounding your Great Uncle and his niece, your Mother, Rhaenyra... And this moment, where he literally giggled to himself, was in an effort to get the attention off of your Mother - and shift those beady eyes who offered her judgement onto himself.

You knew half-truths, mostly content to observe and just listen. It served you well enough - now, a perfect moment to see through Daemon's hysteria. He was offered nothing but silent, dirty glares - most of which came from your grandparents, the Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen; who stood, comforting Daemon's children while still grieving their own lost daughter.

Two young girls who had lost their mother and were watching her about to be laid to rest... And their Father laughs?

While Velaryon blood ran thick with salt, Targaryen blood was hot with fire - and the devastating need to protect one another. In those moments, Daemon felt the burning, pressing need to protect Rhaenyra over comforting his own daughters - something you'd come to grow used to.

The ropes were tightened, and your Father's arm wrapped around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug; something you returned with tight arms. He needed you, and you were there for him.

Salt was thrown over the coffin as it was edged over the cliff and Vaemond gave the final words of service. Just before Laena was plunged over the edge, he spoke, "From the sea we came. To the sea, we shall return."

The day had passed sluggishly and after a meal, you found yourself still with your father - but watching him sadly wade in the waters lapping at the rocky shoreline of the island. Dragons flew above you all, and once or twice, you saw your great emerald beast circling the island; playfully soaring around other (smaller) dragons.

"Daddy?" You called from the shoreline, feeling your nerves spike the longer you stood there. The sun was moving into position to sink and knew the hours grew later. "Daddy? Maybe we should go in now? 'S getting a bit cold - the waters are freezing! Daddy! Come in, please!"

He did not respond, he just stood there; waist-deep in the tide with you watching on the shoreline. Your fingers twisted together in nervousness, feet shifting in the weighty sand.

"Father! Please, come inside with me?" You tried again, but to no avail. He had waded out there after the funeral's dinner, and while everyone gathered on the stone courtyard for drinks and mingling, your father had fancied a walk. For an hour now, he's been standing in the water.

Your head looked up towards where you knew the courtyard was, and caught sight of your grandsire glaring down at your father. He frowned when he caught your eye, then nodded, waving for you to come up. You nodded in return, looking to your father once more.

"Daddy, I have to go in, it's getting late," you tried. "I do not wish to leave you, come with me, please."

"Go on, my sweet darling," Laenor finally croaked - but did not turn.

You sighed with defeat and turned for the archway, hustling up the stone stairs, and just as you reached the top, Ser Qarl was rushing towards you. "Princess," he muttered with a nod, making you smile.

"He will not come in, even for me," you spoke softly, "good luck. Might have to force him out."

"Of course, thank you, Princess," He nodded and darted past you, letting you enter the courtyard finally. There were respectful nods from those who attended the funeral; most offering words of condolences before you caught the eye of the King.

Approaching the two men, you bowed with respect and laid a hand to your Uncle Daemon's arm. "I mean no intrusion, Your Grace, my Prince," you nodded to them both, "and apologize for the interruption I pose, I only mean to extend my condolences to you, Uncle. How sorry I am for your Lady wife, and for this loss you feel."

He nodded, letting his free hand pat over your own. "Thank you, my gentle niece."

"My Prince," you nodded, "Your Grace."

As you took your leave, you heard Viserys offering Daemon to return to King's Landing - to court, or other. You did not hear the rest, finding your mother in the crowd and making a beeline for her through a slew of distant family and members of court offering their words of sorrow.

"Sweet girl," she sighed when she embraced you. "Are you all right? Where is your Father?"

"I could not get him to come in with me," you admitted with shame. "He prefers to stand in the waters, I think it makes him feel close to Laena... Like they're both together again, if only in the tide."

She sighed, petting over your head, "You shoulder too much of your Father's grief, my sweet girl."

"It is never more than I can handle, Mother," you assured. "My skin has grown thick and there is little else to be whispered that can faze me now. My Father needs me, and I am happy to fulfill that duty."

Truth was, once upon a time when you lived in King's Landing, your older cousin, Aegon, started to publicly tease you for being a "Daddy's Girl," and let that come churn-up negative connotations. Rumors grew and festered because of your complexion, where your skin was shades lighter than Laenor's and had bright white hair - while your brothers were pasty-skinned with dark hair.

Aegon liked to tease you for your close relationship and others joined in, thinking it got under your skin. Thinking it was something to laugh about when your Father started to train you beyond what others thought "acceptable". He was your biggest supporter, and helped you push yourself to new limits with horse riding, sword fighting, archery, even just a bit of spear throwing. Laenor and Coryls even once took you on an adventure at sea, where you learned the 'ropes' of sailing and how to fish "properly". You never let the snide comments and vile words taint your view of your "Daddy" because you knew the truth.

Plus, you could just say to Aegon, "You wouldn't know a Father's love even if it slapped you in the face." That shut him up every time.

Rhaenyra smiled at you and gently caressed your cheek, but movement behind your shoulder caught her attention. When you turned to stand at her side with her arm around your waist, you noticed your Uncle Daemon surging past everyone - but stopped when Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, who had a public distaste for the Rogue Prince, stopped him to mutter something. You imagine it was condolences, but you were too far to hear it.

When Daemon managed some comment and then escaped down stone stairs, you mother looked around cautiously. "Mother," you warned through the corner of your mouth. "I would not, now is not the time."

"Hush now, my girl, come with me," she sighed, taking your hand, and leading you towards your brothers. When you reached them, she stooped to speak to them, "Your sister is in charge, do as she says, but I want you all to go to bed."

"But, Mother - "

She cut Jace off, "Go to bed."

With a meaningful look to you, you understood and gave her a reassuring nod with a squeeze to her hand; often thinking your minds were connected by some string - making nonverbal communication essential between you. You often found that was what you searched for in a person, first. How their body spoke, despite the words their mouths form.

"Come on, let's say goodnight," you coaxed your brothers, turning to your grandmother and cousins first. You knelt before them, offering, "My sweet cousins, I cannot say how sorry I truly am for this loss. But should you need it, I am here for whatever you need."

"Thank you, cousin," Rhaena whispered, leaning forward to hug you.

"I'm only a few doors down," you whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. You bid Baela a goodnight as well, letting your brothers step up as you helped your grandmother to her feet. She smiled at you and pet over a lock of hair. "We're going to bed, Grandmother, I will see you in the morning, yes?"

She nodded, sparing a glance to the kids before taking you a few steps from them. She sighed, "How's Laenor?"

You frowned, "He would not come in from the sea, Grandmother. Not even for me..."

"He always had a soft spot for you," she sighed, "surely, if you can't get him in, he'll have to be moved."

You nodded, "I did try."

"You did incredible," she praised, taking both cheeks in hand. "I have heard nothing but songs of how you have been the support your father needs. Thank you for being there."

"It is the least I can do after all he's done for me," you whispered. "I only wish I could take his pain. It is a weight that I fear he is buckling under slowly."

Rhaenys sighed and nodded. "I fear for it, too, my sweet. All right, well," she sighed and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "You get some sleep, some well-deserved rest. You've had a day."

"We all have," you whispered, taking her hands in yours, "and Grandmother? I-I want to tell you that I am sorry for you loss. No parent should ever have to bury their child."

She sighed and nodded, squeezing your hands. "You have always been the sweetest girl - and I am so proud to be your Grandmother. I love you, thank you for your words."

Your eyes shut and let her lean in to kiss your forehead. "I love you, too," you promised, smiling at her when your eyes opened to her softened gaze. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she nodded, letting go of you so you could take your little brothers under your arms.

"Grandfather," you spoke to Corlys as you approached. "I hate to interrupt, but we are off to bed and wish to say goodnight."

He gave you all a smile and gentle hugs, speaking softly, "Goodnight, my dears. I'll see you in the morning." Finding no other family members that you cared enough to speak to, you lead your brothers into the Driftmark castle.

You nodded to those you passed, easily navigating the boys to their rooms and did not leave until they were changed and in bed properly.

"Sister?" Luke whimpered.

"Yes, my sweet?" You paused to turn back to him, single candle in your hand and one on his bedside table.

"I-Is Ser Harwin truly gone?"

You sighed, pausing to sit on his bed and pet some hair off his forehead. "I'm afraid so, sweet boy. But Mother speaks true, the Strongs are not our kin and we are needed here. But that does not mean you cannot mourn him, Luke. He was a gallant knight and truly felt part of our family - though he was not our blood."

He nodded, "Could we say prayers for him?"

"Of course," you agreed. "I'll say one for him tonight, too, all right?"

"Thank you," he whispered, letting you lean in to peck his forehead.

"I love you," you promised, letting a finger push the button of his nose.

"I love you, too," he nodded, snuggling into the blankets. "Good night."

"Good night, sweet boy," You whispered, blowing out his bedside candle and parting ways with your own single candle in a holder. You shut their door and moved for your own room, but just before you could prepare yourself for bed, you heard a strangled roar from your opened windows.

It could've been any dragon, but something felt familiar about this sound.

Something felt wrong and you were quick to change into a pair of trousers, a tunic, and boots; rushing off from your room with the intention of checking on your dear, sweet Kasta. She wasn't by any means the largest around but she showed no sign to stop growing - making her rival a few older dragons already. You worried she was being challenged, and easily snuck from the castle walls.

However, you gasped when you rounded a cliffside and almost ran straight into someone.

"You!"

"Aemond! Gods!" You hissed, glancing around and pushing him towards a small alcove of the cliffs in case of any patrolling guards. "What're you doing out at this hour? You should be in bed!"

"What're you doing out? You should be in bed, too," He retorted quickly.

You narrowed your eyes, "I have reason - "

"Maybe I do, too."

You hummed, eyeing him a moment. "What if we agreed to go about our business - never seeing each other, hey?"

He considered it before nodding. "Deal. I didn't see you, you didn't see me."

"Exactly," you chuckled to your 'uncle', though you were 18 months older than him. It was strange, indeed. "Whatever you're doing, just be careful, Aemond."

He nodded, "Yeah. You, too, Y/N."

You both snuck away in opposite directions - where you made for the mouth of the Dragon Pit, and Aemond, in the direction of open sand dunes. You were curious and considered following him, but you were distracted by wanting to check on Kasta more.

After sneaking beneath the Pit, you could not locate your great beast and didn't know if you felt relief or not. So, you spent the better part of an hour searching for the emerald green beast, sighing with relief when she was located at last. Only after you had to scale a fucking cliff, but she was worth it.

"Kasta," you panted in High Valyrian upon approach, the lazy dragon lifting her head from the sandy nest she'd made. "What're you doing, my girl? Hey?" You chuckled lightly, hearing her whine lowly. You sat at her head, giving it a loving stroke. "It is warm in there?" She lipped at your hands, making you wonder, "You okay? I heard something and worried it was you - that you might've been in trouble?"

She growled lightly, lifting her head in interest when the distinct beating of wings was heard - along with a voice shouting in exhilaration. You lifted your head to spy Vhagar circling the island, curiosity peaking; but also assuring you that it was not your dragon that you heard before.

"I thought Vhagar had no rider?" You questioned Kasta, but the dragon lifted her head to stare into your eyes - giving a knowing look. "I see," you whispered.

There was a shuddering quake to the ground, and you knew somewhere nearby, a dragon landed. When your own dragon gave a soft snarl, you felt something on the back of your neck stand on end. She left her head fall back down as you stood.

Unknown to you, your siblings and cousins had searched for you in your rooms before deciding to confront Vhagar's newest rider by themselves. Yet, unknown to them, you were expertly scaling down the cliffside to rush for the Dragon Pit.

Yet, you were still too late.

Aemond had Luke by the throat - all the kids bloodied and bruised to some capacity - and with a large, jagged rock in a raised hand above his head, Aemond was threatening, "You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards!"

"Aemond! NO!" You raged, rushing to the scene out of pure panic from seeing your younger siblings, cousins, and uncle all bearing marks of a fight.

"My father's still alive!" Luke struggled in Aemond's grip, sobbing.

"So, he doesn't know, does he, Lord Strong?" Aemond snipped at Jace with a sneer, and to your shock, Jace then brandished a dagger.

"NO!" You finally made it to them; first yanking the two girls further back for safety, but it left time for your brothers to attack. "JACE!" You screamed with Baela, trying to keep them back as the boys were so intertwined in a fight, you could not intercede them. And with a dagger in play, you did not risk being an accidental casualty.

Aemond had thrown back Luke and wacked Jace in the head with the rock - knocking both to the floor in whimpering pain.

"All right, that's enough, hey, hey, no more - no fucking more," you stepped in, hands held in peace. "No, you've all made your points - Aemond, please," you begged when your uncle rose the rock above his hand again, smirking in taunt, with the intention of bashing Jace's head in. "Aemond - think for a moment, do not do this," you tried to reach for him, but it was too late. Jace threw a handful of sand to Aemond's face, blinding him a moment, and leaving time for Luke to pick up the forgotten dagger. "NO, LUKE, DON'T!"

But it was far too late.

Luke swung his brother's dagger upward and sliced through Aemond's face - both boys screaming. One in exhilaration and the other in unfiltered pain.

"NO!" You screamed again, reaching Luke first and making him drop the dagger by wrangling his wrist in your hand; your adrenaline pumping so harshly that you didn't realize when the blade sliced through the skin of your palm. You turned quickly, only vaguely hearing the Knight's Guards arriving. "Aemond, Aemond," you begged, taking hold of the moaning and groaning Prince. "Oh, let me see, let me see, c'mon, lad, 's all right, let me have a look," you hushed, huddling over him for privacy and coaxing his hand away. "Gods be good," you hissed, snapping his hand back in place and using your own to add pressure. Both of your hands bloodied within seconds. "Hold pressure, hold the pressure," you told him softly, looking up to see the White Cloaks. "L-Lord Commander, the Prince Aemond needs a Maester at once."

"Let me see," he knelt.

"No, no, it needs pressure for the bleeding," you told him, keeping firm hold on your distant uncle. "Come, help me get him to his feet."

"What happened?" He demanded, doing as you bid.

"I do not know, I arrived too late," You covered, helping Aemond but turning to walk at his back to keep hold over his hand, over the sliced eye he was basically holding in socket.

It was pure chaos from then on, and once you were all gathered in the throne room, the Maester took over.

"Y/N!? Aemond!? Oh, my Gods! What has happened!?" Alicent demanded as she rushed into the room; Viserys limping with his cane in hand not far behind her.

"In a moment, Your Grace," you pleaded, the boy sitting with your hands still holding in injury.

"I need to see the wound, Princess," the Maester frowned.

"All right," you agreed with him, and then looked to your uncle. "Easy, easy, easy, it's gonna gush a little," you whispered, your bloodied hand peeling Aemond's with your own to give sight to the full injury.

You could've thrown up from the sight, but only stepped away as more members of court arrived on scene and the Maester was swooping in.

Turning to Alicent, you explained, "In truth, Your Grace, I do not know much - other than the boy has been maimed. I read it's important to hold pressure to injury before a professional can take over, so, I only helped the Prince do that," you showed your bloodied hands.

"Dear girl," Viserys took your one hand, "you're bleeding on your own, I can see the cut."

"Oh, i-it's just a small cut, Your Grace," you nodded swiftly.

"How did you come by it?" Viserys demanded. His voice then lowered as he bowed his head to tell you privately, "You alone have always told your Grandfather the truth, do not let that change now."

You gulped but held your head up to tell him quietly, his withered hand still holding your wrist, "When I disarmed Lucerys, Your Grace."

"Why were you not in bed?" Alicent asked.

"In truth, I heard a dragon roar, and it sounded so familiar, I worried it was my dragon, Kasta. She's larger than some and still grows, I worried she was being challenged and then feared she was hurt. I was only out of bed, Your Grace, to check on Kasta, I swear it."

Viserys' eyes flashed to gaze heatedly over the others gathered from after the fight - but otherwise, just sighed. He nodded at you, "You're not at fault for worrying. Go on. Clean your hands, dear girl, let someone bind them."

"Thank you, Your Grace," you whispered, nodding with a small smile, "Grandfather."

He smiled briefly in return and patted your shoulder as you turned with dismissal, a handmaiden stepping up to help you wash your hands of blood in a basin and then examine the 'wound'. "It is shallow, Princess," she informed with a nod of her head. "It will heal, but I will bind it to help protect it. Perhaps avoid a sword in this time."

You smiled mutely and nodded, letting her work as the room was stewing in anger and tension as more and more members of the court showed up.

You waited patiently for your mother, letting your anxiety fester to new heights as you began to understand, as the eldest present to the scuffle, you'd be expected to recount events. But you didn't know all of the situation, only what the children had tried to tell you in a jumbled rush on your way there. But they didn't get far as the guards couldn't stand their squabbling, telling them to silence themselves until the King asked for explanation.

As the Maester worked, Viserys was demanding answers of the Lord Commander Westerling, and his Guards; who were not watching the Princes, and therefore, assumed fault for letting everything get to this point. By extension, as second in command with the Queen's Guard, Ser Criston Cole stood under interrogation, as well.

And the King was beyond angry; making you gently flinch when his voice turned hateful towards his guards.

Your hands were wrapped, and you moved along the edge of the crowd to then take a seat on the stone stairs that lead to the throne room to take a moment and think about what you witnessed. You needed time to absorb it all, to just think; to digest.

From beside the light of the hearth, Alicent, watching the Maester work on stitching Aemond's wound closed, asked, "It will heal, will it not, Maester?"

He paused a moment, the room turning towards the Maester and Prince for the answer; and your head lifted to listen. Your brothers stood beside one another without any cleaning to their wounds - simply because they were still on trial for this entire ordeal.

The Maester answered, "The flesh will heal, I'd wager because the Princess Y/N acted quickly to hold pressure." Eyes turned to you as you felt tears of embarrassment and anxiety fill your eyes, bowing your head to avoid their gazes. "But the eye is lost, Your Grace."

Both of Aemond's parents looked genuinely distraught as you finally stood to near your brothers; taking each of them under your arms. They noted the bandages on your hand, but did not get to comment as the Queen was rounding on her eldest son, Aegon, to demand, "Where were you?"

"Me?" Aegon asked, gasping when his mother's hand clapped against his cheek to whip his head to the side. "Ow!" He yelped, "What was that for?"

"That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!" Alicent hissed, teeth bared; her anger tangible.

The doors above you clanged open, and Corlys charged through them, demanding, "What is the meaning of this!?"

"Baela? Rhaena!" Rhaenys gasped, following her husband down the stairs. "What happened? What happened?" She asked, taking the girls instantly into her arms.

Corlys looked around with a fierce gaze, standing before you lot as you tightened your hold on the boys. Not a moment later, your mother was finally opening the doors - looking spooked by the news she received. "Jace?" She looked around - and when she located you three, she was shouting, "Luke!"

You stepped back to let your mother kneel before the boys; and felt a hand smooth around your shoulders. Looking up, Corlys brought you into his side for a tight hug. Your bandaged hand laid on his stomach, making him take it up and examine it with a tight jaw.

"Show me, show me," your mother rushed to your little brother, pulling Luke's hands from his face and revealing his own injury. "Who did this?"

"They attacked me!" Aemond shouted from his seat.

"He attacked Baela!" Jace shouted back.

"He broke Luke's nose!" Baela shouted, and then, the over-lapping voices were too great and many to make out. Yet, bits and parts met your ears as Uncle Daemon arrived on scene, and chose to lean on the door with crossed arms instead of rush for his injured daughters. You did not speak, Corlys and you stood silently and listened.

"He stole my mother's dragon!"

"Enough," Viserys demanded, but the children still shrilly argued.

"He was going to kill Jace!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Enough!" Viserys tried again.

"It should be my son telling the tale!" Alicent joined the efforts.

"He called us - "

But Viserys roared over everyone, cutting Jace off, "SILENCE!"

The room echoed with the aftermath of ringing voices; everyone shying into themselves, and making your father's father tighten his hold around your shoulders. Behind you, your brother whispered to your mother, "He called us bastards."

Rhaenyra stood in thought and kept the bloody boys behind her, sharing a small look with you as her eyes skated over your bandage. But nothing could be said as her hands came to wring together as Viserys called, "Aemond..." His cane struck the stone with each step he took, "I will have the truth of what happened... Now."

"What else is there to hear?" Alicent interjected. "Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible."

"It was a regrettable accident," Rhaenyra swiftly defended - but even she sounded shaken.

"Accident," Alicent repeated, Corlys pulling you back a step to let your mother be seen. "The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to an ambush. He meant to kill my son."

You wanted to correct her that it was Jace's dagger and Luke only picked it up when her son meant to bash in Jace's head - but now wasn't the time, because your mother was snarling in defense, "It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves." You nodded in agreement, and Viserys saw the motion. "Vile insults were levied against them."

"What insults?" Viserys questioned.

It was silent before Rhaenyra responded, "The legitimacy of my sons' birth was put loudly to question."

"What?" The King asked.

"He called us bastards," Jace spoke up, making the room go still. This was the confrontation everyone was waiting on...

"Y/N?" Viserys asked, making you tense up.

"What?" Rhaenyra turned to you. "You were involved?"

"I only arrived at the end," you shook your head. "I do not know what was said or done in full," you begged to the King to understand through your words, and it seemed, your other Grandfather did by how he shifted slightly in front of you. "Though, yes, the word 'bastard' was hurled as insult, Your Grace..."

"My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace," your mother swept back in, making you shudder a breath. "This is the highest of treasons..." Her words settled over everyone. "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders."

Aemond had turned in his seat to glare at your mother, his older sister; making the King look down at him. But it was the Queen who asked the Princess, "Over an insult? My son has lost an eye - possibly his life, should your daughter not of been there!"

Viserys looked again to Aemond, asking, "You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?"

"The insult was training yard bluster," Alicent tried to save. "The lot of boys. It was nothing."

"Aemond..." Viserys prodded. "I asked you a question."

To save her son from answering, Alicent asked, "Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys' father? Perhaps he might have something to say in the matter."

"Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?" Viserys agreed, eyes looking to your mother.

"I do not know, Your Grace. I... Could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk," You mother answered.

"Entertaining his younger squires, I would venture," the Queen snipped, making some in the court smirk and snicker as the insult registered.

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace," you pushed away from Corlys to face Alicent and the King, but your gaze was set on the redheaded woman, "because I understand you are distraught from your son's injury, but do not mistake that for giving you leave to openly insult my father, or add fuel to such allegations. This is not the training yard, Your Grace, leaving no room for bluster. Mind your manners."

"Come here, girl, and hush yourself," Corlys sighed, pulling you back to his side. He sighed as Viserys chose to ignore your comment, which made the Queen stiffen her spine and avoid your heated gaze.

"Aemond... Look at me," Viserys directed to his son, making the One-Eyed Prince meet his father's angered, hardened eyes. "Your King demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?"

You didn't see the Prince's eyes cut over to his mother, but saw the King straighten his spine to look at his wife - and knew.

It was as if a collective breath was held as the King was then told by his son, "It was Aegon."

"Me?" Aegon repeated quietly, looking truly shell-shocked to be thrown into the mix. You sighed gently.

The King now turned his sights on his eldest son, growling, "And you, boy?" He stalked up to the taller kid. "Where did you hear such calumnies?" But when his son did not answer, nor meet his gaze, the King shouted, "Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!"

With a tremble to his tone, Aegon spoke, "We know, Father." He met his father's gaze, "Everyone knows... Just look at them," his lip curled, "and then look at her. She is true-born, that cannot be disputed."

Your chin lifted as your glare turned deadly, daring anyone to say more as the King was silently surveying the room. But he chose not to pursue this further, and snapped, "This interminable infighting must cease!" His cane punctuated his words. "All of you! We are family!" He only glanced at Aemond, perhaps finding the injury too gnarly to look at longer; turning his gaze to the room again. "Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it!"

But nobody spoke as the King's words did not feel truly fair. Perhaps, the others were going to wait for him to leave to 'handle' this situation, but before he could, Alicent was speaking, "That is insufficient." The King turned to hear her words. "Aemond has been damaged, permanently, my King. 'Good will' cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken!" Alicent refused her husband's words.

"What would you have me do?" Viserys growled.

"There is a debt to be paid," she decided, and the room went still. "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

Heads turned to look at your mother and brothers, and you broke away to then stand at your mother's side and kept Lucerys behind you. The crowd muttered with discomfort as the King approached the Queen, "My dear wife..."

"He is your son, Viserys," She begged through her tears. "Your blood."

"Do not," Viserys warned, "allow your temper to guide your judgement."

That was supposed to be that, but chaos still rained. She spoke defiantly, "If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston... Bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon."

"Mother!" Luke gasped, and she kept him back and between you.

"Alicent," Viserys tried.

"He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son," Alicent sneered.

"You will do not such thing," Rhaenyra defended and your hands tightened on your brother.

"Stay your hand," Viserys demanded.

"No, you are sworn to me!" Alicent refused with a shout, making it known she was desperate for action. And eyes turned for Cole, knowing he was nothing better than her leashed dog.

"As your Protector, my Queen," Cole refused - a smart decision.

"Alicent, this matter... Is finished," The King leered fiercely. "Do you understand?" It was quiet as the woman did not respond, everyone watching as Viserys turned from the room; but paused to address, "And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra's sons," he then directed at Alicent, sneering, "should have it removed."

"Thank you, Father," Your mother spoke softly from her place, something making the hair on your neck stand on end. You did not turn as your mother did, lowering herself to speak to her sons - you watched the Queen.

And thankfully, you did.

You watched her stride for Viserys and yank a dagger from his belt and turn. "Mother!" You gasped, stepping in front of her protectively as the Queen charged.

"Alicent!" Viserys screamed.

"Stay with the King!" Westerling demanded of Cole as he followed Alicent. "HOLD YOUR APPROACH!"

"My girl!" Rhaenyra pushed you out of the way in time to step forward and take hold of either of Alicent's wrists. It was chaos as they engaged; everyone trying to space out and move from the way as the King's Guards were tangled amongst each other.

Luke screamed shrilly in fear as your mother took on Alicent. You wanted to turn for the boys and huddle them close, but Corlys was back at your side, and together, you both stood as pillars in front of them while Princess and Queen struggled against one another.

"Stay your hand, Cole!" Westerling demanded of the disobedient knight; making Daemon push off his post to intercept the man.

"You've gone too far!" Your mother struggled with Alicent.

"I?" The Queen repeated breathlessly. "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law! While you flout all to do as you please!"

"Alicent! Let her go!" Viserys demanded.

"Mother!" You worried, wondering if you should step in. Would you be reprimanded for cutting down the Queen? You eyed the sword at your Grandsire's hip - leaving it open for you to take.

Yet, you dare not.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" Alicent spoke tearfully still. "It's trampled under your pretty foot, again!"

"Release the blade, Alicent!" Otto, the Queen's father, called from the end of the hall.

"And now you take my son's eye," she told your mother, "and to even that, you feel entitled."

"Exhausting, wasn't it?" Your mother countered. "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness." She whispered, "But now they see you as you are."

Alicent shouted in anger; the women pushing away from each other and blade sliced through flesh. Corlys and you both caught your mother when she was flung back, but the sounds of trickling blood pattering onto the floor drew your attention.

"Mum," you worried when her wrist was sliced open to let blood drip freely down her hand, through her fingers; pooling to the stone floor beneath you. "Gods," you whispered, looking up in shock, muttering for those who did not see, "you cut her."

"Darling," your mother hushed, but you were grabbing at her wrist to try to hold pressure - like you were trained to do.

It was silent besides that as everyone waited for the next move to be made. Nobody did until Prince Aemond stepped into the circle; earning the attention of those lingering.

"Do not mourn me, Mother," the Prince spoke softly, looking at Alicent. "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye... But I gained a dragon."

Vhagar had a new rider.

"This proceeding is at an end," Viserys decided, giving everyone a stern look. Cole wrangled free and Daemon stalked forward to crowd you closer to your mother; Luke coming up to hold your waist as you were holding the wound as tight as possible.

Aemond moved to hug his mother in comfort, something you were doing in your own way. Jace took the rear, and stood with Daemon and Corlys, giving Alicent a first look at the family that would bring ruin to her own. But your mother, too, got a good look at the family who would bring your own doom.

"Could we please see to this?" You asked, nodding at the blood that seeped, again, from between your fingers.

"Yes," Rhaenyra agreed. "Perhaps in our rooms."

"Let's go," you pleaded, offering the Hightower Queen one more glare before turning with your mother to keep the pressure on her wound.

"I sought an audience early this morning," your mother explained softly, "before the King and Queen were to depart for King's Landing. And I know it is feeling unfair, my girl, and I do not want to see you go, but the tension can not fester beyond this. Vengeance is a powerful weapon, and I would not see my family harmed for something as petty as this. My hope is that with Viserys around, they will warm up to you, and you will be safe."

"So, after you sent Jace, Luke, and I away this morning, you and Father discussed, what? Selling me off?"

"I know it hurts," she relented, but you sighed.

"No, no, I am only being jealous."

"Of what, sweet girl?"

"Perhaps of not having a cock of my own, so that I might have some say in these matters. Or maybe I am merely jealous of the idea of leaving you while the boys stay. Yet, at least, I will have some time with you yet before I am to marry - not many Ladies can say they have that luxury."

She took a sobering breath, "I knew you'd understand. But for all it can be worth, I am sorry."

You nodded, sighing, "For our family's honor, and for Luke's full vision, I will marry Prince Aemond when the time comes..."

"My girl," she breathed with relief, bringing you in for a bone-crushing hug. After a moment, she pulled back to sniffle; and just over your heads, three of the royal dragons took flight - with Vhagar swooping low to the waters before following the King's ship.

You both paused to stare after them.

"Do you trust them, Mother?"

Rhaenyra sighed, "I trust my father, but the Hightower claws are dug deep." You both breathed for a moment. "You will be a single spot of Targaryen Black in a sea of Hightower Green, my love. Our House words must not be forgotten..."

Your chin lifted, knowing in heart, you would always be a Targaryen Dragon more than a Velaryon Sea Horse - telling her gently, "Fire and Blood..."

"When the time comes," Rhaenyra sighed, "I can only pray I leave you with dragon scales instead of skin - so that their green flames do not burn you, my sweet girl."

You smirked gently at her, "Mother, fire - whether Green or not, cannot kill a dragon. Though I know I've salt in my veins, too, it is the blood of Old Valyria, and fire will be my ally."

Rhaenyra sighed and turned to pull you in closer with a kiss to your head. "I know it is sudden news, but we still have years with each other. Much will change, but I will never leave you feeling unprepared." Movement, again, caught her eye over your shoulder; making her sniffle and sober up. "Go on, go now. Find your brothers for me, please."

You agreed, and after a kiss to her cheek, left her be; passing your silent Great Uncle Daemon along the way with only a head nod of acknowledgement.

Time on Dragonstone was never the same. Days after laying your Aunt Laena to rest, you lost your own father, Lord Laenor, to a petty quarrel he had with his lover, Qarl. The lad was never found, apparently somewhere lost to the Stepstones, but the anger never dissipated. Your mother had welcomed the Knight into the family, and he turned blade on your father?

In Laenor's father's hall?

The devastating blow was hardest on you, who could not grieve far enough. You internalized a lot of it, but your brother's tried to help you shoulder it all - yet this was a path you walked alone. Seemingly only days after that, on your ancestral home, your mother then married her Uncle Daemon, and your cousins Baela and Rhaena were now your step-sisters.

They lived with you all on Dragonstone and your mother took your education very seriously. Professors came into port to be guests of the castle, dedicating hours upon hours a day to tutor you in a broad arrangement of subjects.

History, philosophy, reading, philanthropy, writing, specialized tutors to broaden your Valyrian, a whole class on just diction - forcing you to learn new words; first-aid training, and even drawing.

Your step-father also took up your training after your beloved father had passed. Daemon recommended you work your anger and grief out through the training yard, and you took that advice to heart. He posed as a challenger in damn-near everything, and by the Gods, you tried not to feel competitive, but it sharpened your wit and instincts. Daemon knew what he was doing, and yet, never showed an ounce of 'loving warmth', only stoic respect.

Your mother taught you what she could about being both Lady and wife - taking meals privately with you to go into more expressive details. Questions you had, she answered; and as you grew older, you wondered deeper - and she often answered with red, flushed cheeks. Yet your mother kept her promise and would not let you go off to King's Landing unprepared.

You read books. Wrote letters, kept journals. Learned from experience, learned from reading; did what you could to understand as much as possible, never quenching your thirst for knowledge.

Perhaps, subconsciously, you wondered if this would create more distance between now and your marriage - but your 18th nameday was creeping up, and you were out of options.

Three months before, your summons arrived.

Your mother tried to deliver the news softly, but tears broke her waterline; and you understood that she meant to say goodbye. Apparently, by Queen Alicent's hand-written letter, you were to marry the Prince before the week's end, and it was already midweek.

Aemond did not wish for a big wedding, but your family insisted on something. Viserys had called upon the royal dressers, and all festivities would be covered. All you had to do was show up, and yet, it felt like that was the hardest chore. Your mother had sniffled as she pet your hair off your shoulders, nodding, "It's time, my girl."

Daemon opted not to attend the wedding and after a bit of persuasion, your mother and brothers decided to stay on Dragonstone with him. You were to travel alone because you were to hit the ground running, and you were beyond nervous.

Your mother helped pack your things - sending servants and maids away to let you two have moments of privacy. She gave you last second advice, promising that when you need it, she was always there for you. Dragonstone wasn't far by dragonback and there were always ravens to send - but she warned you about the Hightowers more than likely intercepting letters.

She advised you to write in code.

Promised she loved you.

Swore to you that marriage wasn't always all so bad; and before you knew it, you were standing with Kasta's packed saddle - facing your family for the final time.

"Well," you breathed, nodding at them all, "I wish to say that I will miss you all, and thank you for the incredible years."

"Good luck, sister," Jace nodded.

The night before, the boys had snuck into your room for the last time and let you hold them; tears of sadness weeping into their dark brown locks. You smiled at him, "Thank you, brother. I will send a raven when I am settled, and... Well, you know."

"When you're married," Luke teased, giggling lightly.

"Hush," you mother chided gently, but smiled at the boy, glancing at you. "Go hug your sister goodbye, love."

Luke frowned deeply and rushed for your waist - though, no longer being a small child, he was still a young lad; and you could wrap your arms around him tightly. You kissed the top of his head and sighed, "I'll miss you with my heart, Luke. I promise to write you, you can practice writing me back if you want."

"But, sister," he worried, pulling back only so to hush, "what if the nightmares come back?"

You smiled at him, "I left you a present on your bed. I hope that helps you through the nights. Let it be a comfort." It was a red and black stuffed dragon toy, something you prayed would comfort him in your absence.

He nodded, tears falling down his cheeks. "Do not go," he begged gently, holding your skirts.

"I'd stay if I could, but this is for the best," you assured, never having the heart to tell him that your marriage arrangement was made some years ago, and now, as you were a woman, it was time to 'pay up' to save him from being blinded. He didn't need to know the truth.

Jace pulled Luke back but instantly stepped up in his place, instead. He sighed into your neck; much taller than the last time you remembered, and letting yourself loose a few tears. "Do not let them change you, sister. Please, be safe," Jace rushed in your ear, tightening his hug.

"I will," you cried, giving him a squeeze. "Be there for Mother... She'll need you now."

"I won't disappoint you," he promised, pulling away.

"Be good," you chuckled at him, patting his shoulder as he moved back. Baela and Rhaena stepped up to hug you goodbye, having grown fond of their older 'sister' during the time you had together. You kissed their foreheads, bid them well, and again, promised you were only a raven away.

Daemon was next, and he did offer a hug (shockingly). You squeezed into his embrace, and when you pulled back, he wished, "Good luck in the city, niece. Remember the leech will feed, even when fat. My brother's blinded by..." He sighed. "Nevermind. It's not your responsibility. Just do not let him forget his family loves him."

"I'll be sure to be there for him, Uncle."

He nodded, "Then - good luck. Marriage is mostly political, so, play your part with caution in mind."

"Your advice has always been appreciated," you nodded. "And thank you - for all the lessons you gave these past years."

"What a student I had," he smirked, giving you a final nod as you moved on to your mother.

She took a long, shuddering breath. "You'll write, won't you?" Her hands reached, as they always did, to pet over the silver locks that spilled down your shoulders.

"Of course," you promised softly. "You will not be rid of me so easily."

"I should hope not," she chuckled, but held her tears at bay.

"Say it now, Mum, and I will stay," you promised in a whisper. "You need me, and I will stay - "

"No," she sighed, moving to hold your cheeks. "You are no longer responsible for me. I would not let you go if I thought it was feeding you to the wolves... Though I wish for you to stay, there is a duty to be performed, my sweet girl."

You nodded, letting a few tears fall down your cheeks. "I'll just miss you terribly. Who will I go to for advice?"

"You'll understand who to trust, but keep in mind that you might write in a journal. Let it act as if it's me, and write, my girl. Hide it away, burn it even, but do not let yourself feel so isolated."

"A Black Dragon in an Emerald Mine," you snickered softly, making her grin. "I will not disappoint you, Mother."

"You never do," she promised. "Be careful, and do not trust anyone. You're in the snake's garden now, and their bite is fierce."

You nodded, hands over hers to hold your cheeks. "I wish you'd be there."

"I do, too," she promised. "But you are my strongest girl, you will endure this with grace."

You nodded, leaning in to hug her one last time. She sniffled into your neck, but after a moment, you had to giggle, "Mum, you've got to let me go. Mumma, c'mon, now."

She groaned and released you, "All right, fine. Go on. I love you - so much. Do not forget that."

You climbed onto Kasta's mighty back; needing something of a rope ladder to get on her properly. With another wave, your family called their love and luck; hearing Kasta roar in departure before surging forward, spreading her wings, and then leaping off the cliffside. You held on tightly as she cut through the air, your family all watching as Kasta roared once more but otherwise, did not turn back.

You cried during the whole flight; truly afraid of what you were to encounter when you landed. Alicent and the Hightowers knew of your arrival, and you wondered why she insisted on such a swift wedding.

Last you knew, your fiancé had both concurred the largest dragon in the world but also lost his left eye.

Perhaps there was a rush so you could not back out. But you had honor, and if your hand in marriage is what it took to heal the rift between your families, to soothe the wound Lucerys inflicted, then so be it. There was honor in completing one's duty.

You prayed, through tears, it was enough.

[ part two ]

[ series masterlist ]

[wishfulwithwine]

Eye of His Storm - Chapter Four

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Fem!Reader

She was the pure beauty of Targaryens and Velaryons, only daughter of Rhaenyra and Leaner Velaryon, second child. 

He was the scarred, menacing son of King Viserys and Alicent Hightower. 

They put together the broken pieces of their lives, and made each other whole. 

Warning: series will have INCEST, cursing, smut, violence, ptsd, alcohol and other possible triggers. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF MINOR. 18+ ONLY. 

Photo is from Pinterest

“You nervous about the wedding night? You don’t need another lesson before tonight, do you?” Aegon teased, watching as his younger brother paced next to him. 

Whipping his head, Aemond glared at him, before shaking his head with a sigh, looking around at the grand hall. Everyone was gathered around, waiting in anticipation for Y/N to walk down the aisle in whatever gown Alicent and Rhaenyra had managed to get her in such short notice. The hall was decorated as much as it could in the short time, and Aemond noticed the flowers he had described, as well as ribbons of both their house colors. 

Honestly, Aemond could take the teasing remarks today, as long as Aegon was sober enough to not be an embarrassment. Aemond was not necessarily one for attention, but today - today was the day he was dreaming about since Y/N were born. 

Today was the most important day of his life - rivaling that of the day Aemond claimed Vhagar, and lost his eye. 

“No, just ready to start” Aemond stated, looking around for any sign that the ceremony would be starting soon. Everyone was seated, with some light music playing in the background. The hall was packed, despite it being such a last minute affair, but people did what they could to make it here for the “wedding of the century”. 

The wedding would be a combination of values from the Seven as well as Old Valyria - a compromise of both Alicent and Rhaenyra. Daemon would be walking Y/N down the aisle, they’d exchange cloaks, exchange vows and rings, and then the blood ritual, before the celebratory dinner.

Aemond had held in his chuckle at Daemon being the one to walk Y/N down the aisle. He knew how much his uncle hated him, but the similarities were obvious between the pair, as his mother liked to occasionally point out. 

“I’m honestly surprised, you’re usually the patient one. Am I rubbing off on you, brother?” Aegon asked, smirking. Aemond rolled his eyes, praying to whatever god to hurry everyone up so he could get married sooner and stop listening to his brother’s antics.

“I’ve wanted to marry Y/N since I’ve met her” Aemond said, thoughtfully. Aegon rolled his eyes, slouching back in his stance. His brother had gotten too serious for him, and reminded him of the ridiculousness of his own marriage - to his sister, that he’d rather fuck anyone else besides her. 

Then, all eyes diverted to the large doors, as they opened fully and Y/N and Daemon began walking towards the front. There was a collective gasp amongst the crowd, as everyone took in the beauty of Y/N and her gown.

It was a slim, beaded gown with a large necklace collar. The dress was untraditional, but beautiful. Alicent and Rhaenyra had worked hard to find a dress that would fit Y/N in such a short time, and this had to be altered to fit her. Although not a large dress that was expected of in a Targaryen or Royal wedding, it looked remarkable on her. The cloak of Velaryon hung heavy on her shoulders, in contrast to the silkiness of her dress.

By the time Y/N reached the altar, Aemond’s vision was focused solely on her. He couldn’t peel his eyes off of her for anything.

Daemon glared at the boy, but also couldn’t help but find himself comparing, as Aemond had succeeded exactly what he wanted to, and made the opportunity to grab it. Daemon had to wait years and finished marriages to marry Rhaenyra.

Y/N blushed under the blazing stare of Aemond, feeling the fire in his eyes as warmth spread throughout her body. She bit her lip, trying to keep her composure as they stood in their assigned places.

The ceremony felt like a daze, as cloaks were exchanged, the vows were recited, and the blood ritual was completed. Everyone watched in amazement as the ceremony went as smoothly as possible, with everyone’s undivided attention on the couple. Remarkably, Aegon nor Lucerys succeeded in disrupting the wedding, albeit the latter had a scowl on his face and had to be held onto tightly by Rhaenyra to ensure a peaceful ceremony. 

A buzzing feeling throbbed between the couple, especially Y/N, who did her best to play into the act everyone wanted to see. Her body felt like it was burning from the inside out, in an addictive passionate flame that she only felt when imagining Aemond late at night after a few glasses of wine. 

Aemond’s eyes never left Y/N - if they weren’t locked on her eyes, it was her body, and how the dress fit her body like a glove. His thoughts were anticipating later tonight, when he could be with her, alone and without the constructs of their clothes. Bodies melting together, touching in a haze of ecstasy. He would finally get to taste her lips, her skin, her nectar. 

Those thoughts propelled the ending kiss of the ceremony, causing a collective gasp from everyone watching. The kiss of Aemond’s lips, sealing their bond, was gentle on Y/N’s end, but his grab of the back of her neck was his claim of possession. His grip wasn’t hurtful, but forceful enough that everyone could see the power of Aemond. It was a full display of property - Y/N was fully Aemond’s, and no one could do anything about it. 

When he let go, and their mouths parted, Y/N was a bit shocked, although she shouldn’t have been surprised. She felt flustered and hot, as that sort of affection was more suited for behind close doors. 

Most of the audience - especially the families - seemed to glare at Aemond for his show of possession, but Aegon clapped his hands like a fool, before everyone made their way for the dinner portion of the night. Aemond didn’t acknowledge or look at anyone else, however, besides Y/N as he led her out of the grand hall to where the feast would be.

He kept her tightly pulled into his waist, after they arrived at the grand hall, as Y/N greeted guests politely while Aemond just stared, wishing all the formalities could be over with so he could be alone with his wife. 

Y/N was his- his wife, lover, eventually the mother to his children. Finally, she was his.

By the time they sat down and began dinner, Aemond moved their chairs so that they’d be as close as physically possible. Y/N wasn’t surprised when he kept his hand on her leg the entirety of the dinner. He made sure her cup was always full of wine, and whatever she wanted for food was readily available for her. 

His actions seemed to be scrutinized by everyone, watched with a variety of emotions. 

Aegon rolled his eyes, watching his brother be so possessive over Y/N. He could understand how Aemond was so captivated by her beauty, but to be so claiming of her, Aegon couldn’t fathom. He liked his freedom of women, never one to just settle with one… especially if he had never slept with her before. 

Alicent watched her son carefully. She was worried about his possessive and passionate nature, but he seemed to be doting on Y/N rather than being forceful. She watched as Y/N smiled softly at Aemond when he cut up her food for her, the recognizable look of love that was in her eyes as Y/N gazed back at him. Alicent never knew true love herself, but had seen it on other’s enough to know that Y/N was truly happy with him, and thus there was no need to be worried, for now. 

Rhaenyra saw the similarities of Aemond and her own husband Daemon, although Aemond seemed to be a bit more possessive. Her husband and her daughter’s husband were both passionate people with a flare for the dramatic. Although this marriage was a deal to squash the childish antics of last night’s fight, Rhaenyra could see the care that Aemond had for her. 

At her side, however, Daemon was glaring at Aemond, knowing the cruel side of the dramatics Aemond could reach. He saw the dark glint in Aemond’s eyes when he had cut off Lord Corlys’ head, and worried in his gut for the girl, who to his knowledge, had no idea what was in store for her marriage.

Her siblings, especially Lucerys, were annoyed that Aemond was marrying Y/N. A man undeserving of even love was able to marry Y/N, someone who was always kind to them despite the circumstances. Someone so beautiful had to marry someone so…horrendous. Lucerys was fuming, wishing to do anything in retaliation, but then Jacaerys reminded him of how the marriage came to be in the first place, and Lucerys stopped his plans.

Baela and Rhaena watch curiously. They did not like Aemond, tainted in their views from him stealing their mother’s dragon and Jace and Luke’s perspective, however they also captured the love he seemed to show for Y/N. He couldn’t be totally bad if he treated Y/N like a queen, right?

Princess Rhaenys was concerned about what would happen with Driftmark, but saw how Aemond idolized Y/N. She hoped he would be a similar character to Daemon, supporting his wife. Rhaenys knew Y/N could stand on her own, and Aemond would be a threatening factor to any who opposed her rule. Maybe this would work out in Driftmark’s favor.

The King, who was in a bit of a haze, was overjoyed at Aemond’s actions towards Y/N. So much so, that he stood, surprising the crowd, for a big toast to the newlyweds.

“Thank you all for coming for the wedding of my son Aemond, and granddaughter, Y/N. I can see the love between them, and am happy to see the joining of two incredible people” He said, coughing, which brought many eyes to him in worry for his condition. “Let’s all raise a cup to the newlywed couple, to love and life” He said, raising his cup with a shaking hand. Aemond and Y/N looked to each other as they clinked their cups together. 

It wasn’t long after a few dances that Aemond had lost his patience, seeing an opportunity to leave, and swiftly led Y/N out of the grand hall. Y/N had managed to say some goodbyes, making sure to leave on good terms with her family, before she allowed herself to be all but dragged by Aemond to their bedroom. 

“No, I’ve got it” Aemond stated, as your maid’s eyes widened in shock when she went to undress you. You put on a smile, trying to calm her from Aemond’s brash emotions. 

“It’s alright, thank you” You said, and your maid smiled softly at you, before leaving quickly.

There was silence as you began taking your hair out of the clips, your feet out of your shoes, and taking the crown off of your head. The pressure of the night to come was making your thoughts seem heavy. 

“May I?” Aemond asked, softly, as you felt him behind you, his breath hot on your neck. You nodded, feeling his hands on your back, unlacing your dress. As more skin was revealed to him, he began kissing the new areas, taking in your appearance. 

When it was fully off, and you only had your slip and undergarments, Aemond had to step back and look at you. A deep flush appeared at your cheeks, as he circled around you like a predator. His face was hungry, jaw tight as his pupils darkened with lust.

“You’re so beautiful” He groaned, as he came up to you, putting his hands on your waist as he walked you back to the bed. When you sat on it, he began removing his own clothes. You watched as he took off his top layers, exposing his pale beautiful skin. You had only seen him with this amount of clothing maybe as a child, but now, he was a man. 

A man with toned abs and corded muscles, a gaze swarming with heat as you felt heat swirling in your body, especially when he stood fully naked in front of you. His member was red and weeping, long and thick as it slapped against his abdomen when he released it from his trousers.

Aemond drank in your emotions like a starved man. The gasp that escaped those plump lips, the redness tinting your cheeks, your doe eyes wide with innocence, but he also noticed you weren’t scared, just surprised. Aemond leaned closer, keeping eye contact as he kneeled before you, watching your chest rise and fall with deep breaths, as his hands trailed up your legs, moving the skirt of your slip up so the apex of your legs was revealed. You stood slightly to get the slip fully off of you, and you watched how Aemond’s eyes stared at your fully nude body.

You could see the dragon in his eyes, burning your body with his gaze.

“I love you” Aemond said, as he stood up, standing in between your legs to part them. One hand went to your hip while the other cusped your cheek gently, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry passion. You responded, not knowing what to do with your hands but put your hands cusping his face.

He put both hands on your face, moving you upwards on the bed so he could kneel on the bed, still between your legs. Aemond pulled away from your lips, looking down at your naked body beneath him, taking in every detail of your body. Aemond could feel his heart beating out of his chest, as he positioned himself aligned with your core. 

You gripped onto the sheets around you, nervously anticipating the pain that was described to you by some of the maids. He nudged the tip in, switching his gaze between your face and where you two were now connected. 

He let out a deep groan, as he felt your walls squeezing his tip, before looking at your face, your teeth biting your lip as you looked nervously at him. 

“It’ll feel better, I promise” He said, as he leaned closer to you, putting his lips on yours, hoping to distract from the pain as he pushed another inch before waiting a couple of seconds. You were squirming beneath him in pain, and he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he continued to do that until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Worried about how you were doing, as you were now too much in pain to kiss him back, he pressed his lips to your nipple, reminding himself of Aegon’s words how some women would get off on just nipple action. 

His tongue flicked and swirled around your nipple, as one hand went to knead your other breast. He felt you get wetter around his cock, your back rising as he began to gently thrust shallow inside of you. 

When you let out a moan, he couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face, as he leaned back to see your face glowing with pleasure. Your back was arching, so your torso pressed up into his, and he moved his hands to your hips, as he thrusted deeper and faster into you. Your hands came to his back, undoubtedly leaving scratch marks, as you held on while Aemond thrust into you like a man possessed - which he definitely felt like with your pussy clenching him so hard.

Adjusting your legs higher on his hips, he moved a hand to rub his fingers on your clit. Your moans and breathy whimpers stirred him on, as the coil inside you was binding tighter and tighter inside of you.

“That’s it, so good for me” He moaned, as you clenched down hard on him, your orgasm washing over you, and he came to, working through you both through your orgasms. 

“My little dragon” He cooed, kissing your lips as he pulled out of you, before holding you tightly to his chest as he lay down next to you. “My wife” 

You looked at him, face flushed, as you calmed your breathing.

“My husband” You replied, kissing him, as soft smiles were on both of your faces.

Taglist:

@dark-night-sky-99 @neenieweenie @azaleapotterblack @queenofshinigamis @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @hydrationqueensworld  @kitten480 @percyjaskonspeen @shiranai-atsune @literishdegree99 @alexandra-001 @sunmoon-01​ @fall-myriad​  @snh96 

[aedonys]

Day 5 of #LcmdFatedAu event: Classic fantasy.

Inspired by the "Harry Potter" series, featuring lucemond as tomarry.

(Hogwarts AU!hotd)

The entire wizarding world held its breath in anticipation of the next realm's delight, the boy who was promised, wondering whether he would join the ranks of Hufflepuff considering his charming personality, or follow in his brother's Gryffindor footsteps.

When the moment finally arrived and he stepped into Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat's declaration was immediate and resounding: "SLYTHERIN," it cried as soon as it dropped on his head.

Lucerys found himself face-to-face with his uncle, who was his senior by four years.

The smirking and smug of face Aemond Targaryen, familiar yet different, gave Lucerys a pause in his carefully written life plans. Slowly, he returned the smirk.

In contrast to other families, the inbreeding in the Targaryens did not produce squibs; however, they couldn't evade the madness that coursed within their blood. Lucerys was always aware that his uncle fell under that predicament, thoughless and cruel, a certain belief confirmed further by the eye scar incident five years ago and the discovery of his dragon dreams.

Aemond's affinity for the dark arts was an open secret, yet his mother, hailing from one of the lightest families of the Sacred 28, took it upon herself to "guide him onto the path of light." This was despite the fact that all her offspring bore the blood of dragons.

Lucerys embraced the task of dismantling Aemond's tyrannical notions regarding purebloods and Muggle-borns. Moreover, it wasn't a secret that Aemond had developed an unsettling fixation on him. Still, Lucerys couldn't find fear within himself nor reject the attention he garnered.

It was alluring in a way, the freedom from not having to live up to being the world's saviour, to be wanted solely for who you truly were.

In time, their connection deepened into love. This became another scandal, coinciding with his mother and Daemon's marriage. History doesn't repeat itself, but it certainly carries an inherent rhyme that keeps on playing in the background.

But love alone couldn't shield Aem from his destiny. Despite Luke's plea that he forsake immortality & unreasonable power, it all came to nought. His ominous dreams held a promise for a miserable future for both of them; one lost in the shadows and the other buried under flames.

Aemond's darker inclinations ultimately consumed him. He betrayed Luke's trust and oaths, fully embracing his Voldemort identity during the four years of separation from Lucerys. Luke was left heartbroken, grieving the loss of the love he believed they shared.

Luke tried to confront Aemond about soul magic and its consequences. Regrettably, Aemond remained obstinate, his mind frayed, his magic nibbling at his rationality and logic. He realized too late that his lover was irretrievable.

His aemond was lost to a morbid dream.

"My affection for you was never as innocent as children's fables; it was much more insidious. It engulfed the world, expanding ceaselessly. My love's threads were void, consisting only of myself, and the days elapsed until they could no longer bear me. Nothing had ever carried me away from this world until I thought my soul was forfeit, that perhaps I had died." - Lucerys Velaryon

When the moment of reckoning arrived, a crucial decision compelled Luke to decide between saving Voldemort (or what remained of Aemond) and protecting the Wizarding World. The love he held for Aemond clashed with his duty as the "Chosen One," leaving Luke shattered by the heartbreaking decision he was forced to make. Yet, as difficult as it was, he persisted.

After destroying the 7 horcruxes (where a piece of him shatters along the vanquished soul pieces of aemond), Lucerys sacrificed himself to deliver the final blow that destroyed the last horcrux, which Luke discovered had dwelled within him since the eye incident.

Without looking back, and after believing his love was forever gone, Luke departed from the station on the train to the afterlife. He didn’t wait for Aemond to follow or spared a glance for those who were still alive, ready to serve him up like a pig for slaughter.

As the train carried Lucerys onward, he held Aemond's Slytherin cloth pin, passing through the tapestry of his memories. His soul pounded against his ribcage, pleading to be released, seeking his heart, yearning for its holder.

He understood the bittersweet truth—there was no "everafter" for Aemond. there was nothing real in his story except himself, alongside the companionship of his missing heart. For his love, his lover, their world, & all the creations their love spawned held nothing of reality.

[in-any-universe-ever]

I like how we have drunkmond now. How did Lucerys handle it the first time?

I want to say this is probably the first time but let's have some fun anyway:

Aemond said he and Aegon were going out after work. Luke knew it was a bad idea, but he put on a smile, gave his boyfriend a kiss, and said, "Have fun, baby. Let me know if you need a ride home."

The texts started around six o'clock:

I don't think I'll be here much longer

Nvm Aegon just signed us up for trivia

Baby. Babe. My sweet baby boy.

Seven hells why did I put you as my background you're so fucking sexy

The last one came through at seven-thirty but then stopped altogether. By ten o'clock Luke was getting ready for bed, trying not to be nervous about how long Aemond had been gone. He didn't want to be that boyfriend who constantly checked in, but both of them had work in the morning. They might have only been cohabiting for a few weeks, but Luke knew how Aemond acted when he didn't get enough sleep.

At ten-thirty he got into bed wearing one of Aemond's T-shirts. Honestly he preferred to be naked, but if someone gave Aemond a ride, he didn't want to risk a stranger seeing him without clothes on. The shirt smelled like Aemond anyway, and it was comforting as he distracted himself on his phone, trying not to look at the time or his messages.

He didn't hear a car but he heard the familiar robotic voice that announced SIDE DOOR when it opened. Luke jumped out of the bed and ran down the stairs, tugging the hem of the oversized shirt to ensure it covered everything.

Aemond stood in the hallway, tie cinched, jacket on, hair styled, but a noticeable glaze in his eye. He kept adjusting his stance although he was upright, as if he were afraid he would fall over. Luke watched, amusement winning out over concern, as Aemond attempted to hang his keys on the hook by the side door. He missed several times and gave up, the keys falling to the floor.

He turned and caught sight of Luke. He startled, stepping backward and nearly tripping. A hand on the wall kept him upright, but he had to stay still for several seconds before he could attempt to balance without it.

"Fucking hells," he said when he could focus. "Who are -- oh, hello."

Luke crossed his arms over his chest, a smile widening his lips. He shifted and it drew Aemond's gaze to the curve of his ass. Aemond adjusted his stance again and straightened his tie. "Well, don't you look like a cool drink on a hot day. I don't know how you got here, but I don't mind that you're here at all."

"Aemond," Luke said. "You're drunk."

"That may be true, but I know a beautiful boy when I see one. What's your name, sweetheart?"

Luke burst into laughter. Aemond approached with confident yet unsteady steps, took one of Luke's hands, and proceeded to lift it over his head. Luke turned in a slow twirl, but Aemond's eye was on the hem of his shirt.

"Mmm," Aemond moaned, and Luke rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, baby. Let's go to bed."

"Yes, please," said Aemond, practically purring with want.

Luke pressed a firm hand to the center of Aemond's chest. "No, you pervert, to our bed, where we will only sleep next to each other until you sober up."

Aemond was visibly disappointed but said nothing as Luke led him to the stairs. As Luke ascended he heard a couple more sounds of appreciation and, about halfway up, a hand sliding up the back of his shirt. He turned and smacked it away, which made Aemond frown.

"You know, you haven't told me your name yet, love."

"It's Lucerys. Lucerys Velaryon, your nephew and lover."

Aemond burst into laughter before he spat, almost bitterly, "Yeah right. Next you'll tell me I sit the Iron Throne."

Luke stopped and turned around. Aemond was two steps below him, and it was only those two steps that gave Luke the height to look down at Aemond. His eye was still glassy but bitter, angry, completely different than it had been in the hallway.

"You don't believe me?" Luke asked.

"You certainly look like him. If you say we share a bed, congratulations to me for picking his twin. But no, I don't believe you. Lucerys Velaryon may be the love of my life, but he's the love I'll never get to have."

Luke's heart sank in his chest. He placed his hands on the sides of Aemond's face, directing their gazes together.

"Qȳbor," Luke whispered. "Emā nyke."

Uncle. You have me.

Aemond's eye filled with tears. "Luke?"

"I'm yours, Aemond," Luke said. "Come to bed. Let me remind you how much I love you."

Aemond followed him willingly, and Luke held him and kissed him until they both fell asleep.

[greeksorceress]

if i had my way ( you’d always stay) 

(brief mentions of mature content)

In hindsight, the night had been bound to be hell on earth since they received the current invitation for the Christmas dinner that religiously took place in the Red Keep every year. 

The invitation had been a family Christmas picture that Alicent forced upon her husband and their children every October —with enough time to prepare for the holidays, Alicent had said when Daemon made fun of her two Christmases ago—, and as soon as Lucerys and Jacaerys had seen the sender’s address, they had barely contained themselves from tearing the green envelope open with teeth and nails.

Viserys, Alicent, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. 

In the back of the card, just for “Rhaenyra and her family ♡” was written the time they were expected to arrive.

In the picture, Grandpa Viserys and Alicent were sitting on their burgundy designer couch, a piece of furniture more expensive than it had any right to be, and in the background the enormous fireplace of the main and biggest hall of the Red Keep could be seen alight and bright. Aegon and Helaena were standing by Grandpa Viserys’ side, carrying baby Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, while Aemond, pretty much like in real life, had preferred to stay by Alicent’s side. Daeron wasn’t even in the picture. The hilariousness of the situation wasn’t even about the rather ugly matching Gucci Christmas sweater that Alicent had picked for them this time. What truly sold the picture were the different stages of grief that could be appreciated as clearly as summer skies in the faces of the three Targaryen-Hightower siblings.

Spending some days in the Red Keep to celebrate with Grandpa Viserys and his second family has never been uncommon for them, truth to be told. However, Lucerys must admit that his mother and Alicent had come a long way with their relationship and it had influenced the rest of them, if not just to keep the two women happy. What had been broken once by lies and marriages, enhanced by the loss of an eye in a childish dispute, had been reconstructed and reinforced with no short amount of willingness and care, as well as time and all the perseverance in the world. Their dinners had gone from Rhaenyra and Alicent trying to claw at each other to a pleasant companionship that made Alicent feel safe and encouraged enough as to send them a personalised Christmas card every year. 

The first time they received one, Jacaerys hollered so hard that he woke Joffrey and baby Aegon up. Even Rhaenyra had unwillingly giggled, covering her mouth guiltily after that. Daemon had been the most enthusiastic about it, though, and had dedicated a little hall of fame in the empty study on the second floor for all the Christmas cards they’ve received. Now, just as it was tradition for Alicent to send them one, the Velaryon brothers as well as their step-father and littlest brothers hung and ranked the pictures with the same reverence one would fill stockings or decorate the tree. 

And yet, although the younger generation of the family have tried to keep it together for the sake of their mothers, it doesn’t always —almost never— work out in the end. There’s a sort of animosity that hangs above their heads as heavy as stones, and Jacaerys had mumbled once when they were about to sleep after a particular harsh toast three years ago that he thought it to be unfair that Alicent and their mother got to play friends and pretend nothing ever happened between them while their children had to carry the hate that had been fed to them by the adults. So yeah, while it wasn’t as bad as a few years ago, the invitation had meant hell on earth for the three Velaryon boys, for they had known they would have to endure poorly concealed jabs and jests through the entire duration of their stay.

Still, this has to be a first even for a family as dysfunctional as theirs. 

Lucerys looks at the present, neatly wrapped in black paper with a velvety green ribbon that met in a delicate and sophisticated bow in the middle, and his hands tremble. It’s Aemond’s, that much is clear. If the wrapping hadn’t been enough of a clue, Aemond’s burning stare would have been sufficient. Lucerys blames Jacaerys for not paying enough attention to the cues, handling Lucerys the present as soon as he saw his name written in the tag attached to the bow. 

He starts undoing the ribbon with clumsy fingers, almost mourning the perfection of the bow practically dissolving and then proceeds to slowly tear the paper, actively trying to ignore Aemond’s eye while being conscious of the eagerness of the rest of the family members. 

The present is a box as black as the paper that has been wrapped over it, and the cover has the name of a very expensive jewellery maker from Dorne that Lucerys follows on Instagram. 

As a rule, the first to open their presents are to be the children, so they had waited patiently for Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and baby Viserys to open theirs. Their excited screams and their little faces painted red with happiness had been as exhilarating and endearing for the older teens and young adults as it had been for the two older, married couples. Supposedly, baby Aegon was to be next, but Grandpa Viserys, never one to miss the opportunity to play favourites, had encouraged Lucerys to open his first. 

“Jace,” he tries, “why don’t you give me mom and dad’s—” he sees the way Jaehaera and Jaehaerys pause and look at him, toys forgotten in their confusion, and he has to bite his tongue, “I mean, Santa’s presents that he has left for me in honor of mother and father—”

Jace falters, as if he’s actually considering to switch presents and take the black box from Lucerys’ hands. He will feel bad later for taking advantage of his older brother’s weakness for hi., but right now, he just wants to dodge the literal bomb that must be concealed under the paper and the velvet, waiting for Lucerys’ fingertips to brush against it to set it off. Would the bomb be powerful enough to blow his eye out of his face?  

Aemond doesn’t let that happen, though. He stands up and calmly approaches Lucerys, skilfully avoiding stepping on the kids that are sprawled on top of the carpet, not a single drop falling from his champagne flute.

“But, Lucerys, that wouldn’t be nice, would it? That’s Santa’s present that he’s giving you in my honor… Would you wound me so by discarding it?” 

Lucerys blinks at him, mouth agape. Next to him, he feels Jacaerys tensing. His brother is starting to realise the potential danger of the present and he reaches a hand to take it from Lucerys. Aemond is faster. He knocks Jacaerys’ hand out of the way and pushes back the box into Lucerys’ arms, making the pointed corner jab at his ribs. He sits right on the stupid burgundy couch and looks at him with unadulterated self-satisfaction, raising the flute to his lips.

Lucerys is not proud of the way his eyes fixate on the bubbles disappearing into Aemond’s mouth, and in the movements of his Adam’s apple when he swallows. Lucerys’ neck itches, the spots that Aemond had thoroughly kissed and bitten a couple of hours ago, embroidering the tender skin with reds and purples by teeth as sharp as needles, burning up and pulsating under his clothes. 

He feels his cheeks heat up with shame and things he doesn’t want to admit in front of his family. Aemond dares to eye-fuck him back right in front of their family, playing with the kids’ naivety to get his will met at any costs, softening his voice enough to actually sound wounded, “Jaehaera, Jaehaerys, don’t you want to see what Lucerys got from Santa? Kēpus specially requested for it, it was the first thing I wrote in my letter!”

It works, it fucking works, of course it does. As soon as he says that, the kids turn to Lucerys and rush to assemble by his legs, peering up at the present like it’s the world’s seventh wonder. 

“Open it, Luce!” cries Jaehaera, resting her little chin on Lucerys’ knee, “it has to be a great present if Kēpus asked Santa himself!”

Lucerys has fought his fair share of puppy eyes in his life, having three younger brothers kind of makes you immune to it at some point, even more if you’re dubbed as the actual king of the look itself. Now, he finds he cannot say no to those sweet faces and sighs, ready to meet his destiny. 

It cannot be that bad, right? 

For the longest time, Alicent was the person that hated him the most, even more than Aemond, he thinks. And yet, as years have passed and things have been settled and forgiven, Alicent seems to appreciate him enough to actually get him presents that he might like. Ignoring his own version of the Gucci Christmas zipped sweater that she has forced him to wear over his turtle neck shirt and overalls, —Jacaerys and Joffrey had looked at him with glee in their eyes, it’s his own karma for making fun of the picture—, she has also given him an Apple Watch and the two pairs of shoes that he had added to his wishlist. So, if Alicent is actually being good to him, it means Aemond cannot be much worse, right? Lucerys knows he’s not fooling anyone, not even himself. 

He opens the box hesitantly, barely enough for him to peek inside. It seems Jacaerys is having none of it, and he yanks the fancy black lid open, ignoring Lucerys cursing at him, so they all can take a look.

Nothing would’ve have prepared Lucerys for this. 

Inside the box was a bomb in the form of jewellery, but a bomb nonetheless. 

It has to be a first, definitely. Because he certainly remembers some of the most chaotic Christmases they have celebrated and nothing that comes to mind can possibly hold a candle to this moment. 

Lucerys was too young to remember that one time when Daemon punched Otto, who was still being invited to celebrate with them at the time, and successfully managed to break the man’s jaw, forcing a pregnant Rhaenyra to take the children to their rooms and leaving Viserys and Aemond to take Otto to the hospital while Alicent wept. He does vividly remember that one time Aegon was three hours late to the Christmas Eve’s dinner and crashed his brand new Mercedes into the three foot snowmen that Alicent liked to set in the front garden of the Red Keep. Aegon had proceeded to puke all over Aemond and Daemon’s shoes when they pulled him from the car before losing his consciousness. He had needed three stitches in his right eyebrow, but otherwise, he had been okay. Lucerys doesn’t want to remember the first Christmas right after the eye incident, the one where Aemond and Alicent had been absent from the table, refusing to dine with them —with Lucerys— in the same room. Unfortunately, he does remember it, and he also remembers crying into his pillow that night. He had known Aemond wasn’t going to be there on the next morning to open his presents with them, so he had made sure to sneak out during the night and place the handmade package with his letters and drawings for the older boy by Aemond’s door. When Jacaerys had woken him up and had forced him out of their shared bed to rush down and get their own presents, the box was right by their door, stomped and ruined beyond recognition. 

So yeah, it’s safe to say that Lucerys and his family are used to complicated holidays. Nonetheless, this present is like a bucket of cold water poured over him.

“A necklace!” screams baby Viserys, big eyes wide open before the sparkling piece of jewellery. 

No. It isn’t a necklace. It’s a choker. A fucking full on collar, if you will. 

It’s beautiful. It’s frightening. It’s Aemond’s. 

It’s as velvet as the ribbon that had decorated the box, only this one is much smoother and as black as the ocean water during the night. In the middle of it, dangling from a beautiful chain made of sapphires, sits a beautiful heart with a carving on its center. The material of the heart is Valyrian steel, as elegant as silver —the preferred material of House Velaryon— and more expensive than twenty-four karat gold. The carved message is two mere words. 

ñuha taoba

Lucerys only needs to raise his head to look at Aemond, but he finds himself unable to do so. His stare is frozen upon the collar, and he holds the box tightly to his chest, to hide the fact that the tickling sound that seemed to reverberate through all the room was his heartbeat speeding up. He also wishes to hide Aemond’s deranged tribute far away from the kids’s curious gazes. 

The room falls into a deafening silence, Lucerys doesn’t even want to see his mother and father’s reactions. 

“Well. Do you like my present, taoba?”

The bomb does, indeed, tick off. Daemon stands up abruptly, the sheer force of his movement enough to knock the chair down, and rapidly stalks towards Aemond. “Is this a fucking joke to you, boy? Do you want to see how funny I can get, too?” 

His mother is stricken with the same kind of mortified silence that has overpowered Lucerys, and Alicent, who’s sitting beside her, looks as pale as a ghost. Their stupor doesn’t last much, though. Soon, they’re jumping on their feet, trying to pull Daemon away from his nephew while screaming profanities at both men and at each other. Jacaerys joins the argument too, and so does Daeron while a very stressed Helaena tries to pull the children away. It just takes a couple of insults from Aemond’s mouth towards Rhaenyra to make Joffrey interfere too. Grandpa Viserys is raising his voice, trying to be heard atop the shouts of his family to no avail. 

Lucerys’ abasement is fuelled when feels the taletelling wetness run down his thighs, and he hopes for the love of the gods that he doesn’t stain the couch. He wants to die. 

He feels someone sit next to him, occupying Jace’s previous seat and throwing an arm over the back of the couch.

“If they think that’s bad, wait until you open my present” singsongs Aegon, drinking from his own flute without the elegance that his brother possesses. 

[mattsmithwife]

Playing with Dragons  (DAEMON/RHAENYRA/JACE/AEMOND/AEGON II  x  fem READER) modern AU!  - Chapter I

A/N: English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors. Also my first fanfic on this platform. I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them.

Summary: Living among the Targaryen's may not be an easy task, even more so when the dragons want a piece of meat in common.

TW (For Now): Incest, mention of drug hangover Word Count: 1,788 words

You grew up as a friend/member of the Targaryen family, a family with great political and social acquisitive power. You had moved to China during college, not seeing any of your family or friends in person. You were close to Rhaenyra, who in the first two years always called up you but realized that your life in China was hectic and you had to take care of the internship and studying. So, she just texted when she thought you weren't busy.

It's been 5 years since you went to China and now here you were, at London airport waiting for Aemond. You were watching the news when you felt a presence in front of you, looking up and seeing the man your friend had become. His almost white hair like wolf fur was down the middle of his back, his face looked sculpted, blue one eye with a sharp violet background like a cat's, his chin was long and giving an air of maturity even though he already naturally possessed such a feature.

-No fucking way

You say with your mouth open and smile at him who rolls his eyes playfully, both hug each other in a longing hug, he spins you around in the air like a scene from a cliché movie. The last time you saw each other you were 18 and he was 17, now both 22-years-old and 21-year-old  

-Is it taller? She was so short for an 18-year-old.

-You are so beautiful with your mouth closed, my darling.

-Always so sweet, Y/n Hightower.

Small detail, you were Alicent's younger cousin and not that you're complaining. Alicent always liked you and treated you well, always made sure you felt part of the family, both Hightower and Targaryen.

-Little boy, watch your tongue.

A fact was that Aemond was always into you, even though it was incest, but who would judge? Until two centuries ago the Targaryens came from incest if they did not marry a Velaryon, the second subdivision of the family.

-I'll keep it inside my mouth in case you ever want or need it.

Both leave the airport teasing each other until you see Aegon in the back seat of the car, slightly (very) stoned, sleeping against the glass. Helaena was beside him reading a biology book with headphones. You and Aemond kept the luggage and when they entered, you greeted Helaena with a kiss on the cheek and gave Aegon a flick on the forehead who woke up quickly.

-Helaena you greet with a kiss on the cheek. Don't I get a kiss either?

"No" you three say at the same time. Aegon crosses his arms like a spoiled child and the trip was peaceful to the house Targaryen where the youngest line lived, the others oldest lived in the Red Keep which was 20 kilometres away. Aegon was sleeping, Helaena was listening to music and Aemond was telling you the news.

-So, you put a sapphire?

” These millionaires” you thought to yourself. Remembering Luke's accident with the shotgun, it bounced back so hard that day of hunting that it hit Aemond, causing him to lose one of his eyes. It was a big fight in the family, but fortunately they were resolved, Aemond wouldn't go without his eyepatch near anyone but you.

-I put it on my 18th birthday.

-Did it hurt?

-Not much, healing was more difficult.

-It suits you, the blue colour suits you well.

For a minute you thought you saw Aemond blushing, then you arrived at the mansion, and you saw Luke and Baela in the entrance hall. When you got out of the car, Luke hugged you and you smiled at the youngest, Baela just nodded at you.

- I missed you, Yn.  

- I missed you too, little demon. What have you been up to these last few years?

-This week I set Jace's curtain on fire and I put meat sauce on Aegon's blouse, Vhagar and Caraxes jumped on him and almost left him without clothes.

-And there will be a return.     - Aegon says when he gets out of the car and stretches.

He pulled you away from Luke and Baela, before you could talk to Baela, and took you inside the house to the leisure area where the garden, pool and jacuzzi were located. The servants took your bags and were going to take you to your room.

-Since you're going back to live with us, we have a new rite of passage. Designed exclusively for you.

-And what would be?

He just smiled with dilated pupils, with no time to react, he pushed you into the pool. He watched as you climbed out of the pool with amusement, noting that your white shirt and black leather pants were soaked through, clinging to every curve of your body.

-What the fuck, Aegon. My shirt was... white.

You spelled out the last word slowly when you realized your mistake in wearing that shirt and trusting a stoned Aegon. Smiling, you approached him, and it took him a while to understand what you were doing, he took a few steps back when he noticed.

-Yn, without grudge, do not do evil. The sum of two wrongs is not a right.

-You're right, it's not but it's a sweet revenge.

You just flicked him on the forehead, he jerked away in pain and fell into the pool. Luke and Baela appeared to say goodbye to return to the Red Keep, as only those over 17 could live in house Targaryen. She required a certain amount of “maturity” to live in that house, she would have to put up with noise until late, and a certain amount of patience in order not to kill any of her relatives in case it irritated you.

-Hey, Y/n, grandfather Viserys and the elders asked me to tell you to go to the Red Keep tomorrow at half past seven at night. Until, and look above your bed, gift from Alicent.

You waved them both off and Helaena brought you a towel and one for Aegon, the same one who floated in the pool and admired the morning sky that Friday. You threw a pool ball near him, and the water splashed in his face making him look at you.

-Dear Lord Aegon II, don't you have to work today?

-I works at home.

You looked at Helaena who nodded, they both entered the house, but not before she left the towel on top of the rest chair. She says that normally almost all the Targaryen house worked at home, those of the Red Keep had to go at least a few times in the company, but EVERYONE had to go to the meetings of the month.

-But you work at the company? I thought you had graduated in biology.

-And I graduated and I'm finishing graduate school. I work in the chemistry and testing sector so that the composition of the product does not affect the environment or animals.

-And let me guess, are you the head of the sector?

-Yes, my father insisted that I was in charge, knowing that I had no particular interests.

-You don't think about teaching anymore? you like kids so much

You ask entering your room, which was the way you left it, with the eldest, both of you sit on your bed. Helaena sighed and lay down; you repeated the action of the older

-Once in a while I give lectures in elementary schools. It's not how I imagined myself when I was 16, but it's enough. And you? Have you found a job in international relations yet? And how was your graduation?

-Theoretically I didn't graduate, there's a subject that didn't have a teacher who spoke English to teach, I tried the class lectured in Mandarin, but I got lost because he spoke too fast. Alicent asked me to finish here in London as she talked to college director, and he accepted considering my grades and that Otto is my uncle.

-It's a shame, it's very annoying to be late in a matter, but at least your family will attend your graduation.

-I don't know what I would do if none of you went. About 6 months before coming, Rhaenyra sent me an email asking me to send her an internship curriculum so that I could work with her in Marketing and foreign markets. I'll graduate in three months and until then, I'll study at the LSE

-"You're lucky Rhaenyra really likes you... remember Daemon's tantrum when you refused to apply to Harvard?" The whole family went to Harvard or Cambridge or the LSE and you went to China. I thought the old man would have a heart attack when you went around it and would go.

-” What?...YN IS CRAZY, YOU CAN'T AGREE TO THIS ALICENT, VISERYS! MY GIRL DOESN'T LEAVE THIS COUNTRY!”

You enact Daemon's memory of drama as dramatically as possible. You and Helaena laugh. The memory was fun because the next sentence was the pinnacle and so Helaena wanted to act out that part.

-” YOU'RE NOT GOING, IF YOU PUT YOUR FEET OUTSIDE THAT DOOR, I'LL GET A STROKE. DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KILL ME?”

-"This door?" -you got to your feet and went to your bedroom door, put one foot out and then the other- "Goodbye Daemon, farewell my dear."

Helaena rose to her feet and feigned dizziness, just as Daemon had feigned years ago. She threw herself into the armchair like him and pretended to faint.

-” Yn, YOUR STEPFATHER” -Helaena tried to imitate Baela's voice at the time

-“It's not because he takes care of me that he's my stepfather. Everyone feeds the turkey before putting it in the oven.”

Helaena quickly came face to face with you, she slung you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes just like Daemon had done and put you on the bed, imagining that the bed was the sofa.

-"young lady, while you're under my roof--"

-”I don't live here in Red Keep. I've been in House Targaryen for two years, you should know."

Helaena stomped out of the room, like Daemon when he stormed upstairs that day, and then came back smiling, you smiled back at the older one who lay down next to her on the bed.

-Hollywood is losing us.

- Actresses like us are worth gold. By the way, where is Jace? I haven't seen him yet.

-He didn't say where he was going, just that it would take a while and Yn.

-Yes, Helena?

-His clothes are still wet.

-His shoulder too.

You heard something crash down below and looked at each other, sensing it was Aegon's doing.

part 2?

[missglaskin]

imagine the crown-prince of Dorne begins courting the reader 💀

both Laenor and Joffrey are hyping the prince up because they’d much prefer Dorne to the rest of Westeros despite Rhaenyra insisting the Iron Throne is superior, simply because Dorne is progressive and the politics aren’t so fucking messy over there. poor Laenor just wants to lay on a beach and get drunk with his husband without being hate crimed. and Corlys is supportive because the marriage would still make her a queen even if the kingdom is considerably smaller.

suddenly Aegon is interested in ruling. and Jacerys wants to begin his formal education. whilst Tyrion and Aemond are scrambling in the background to get this kid out of the picture.

but Viseron is the one who throws everyone off when he announces that he’ll gathering men loyal to him, to wage a war in the Stepstones just as his father did before him because it had been stolen back. the war is won within a matter of months and Viseron is named king by the soldiers that fought alongside him. the issue is, the Stepstones are incredibly boring even after Viseron has built fortifications amongst them to better secure the territory. and the others simply laugh at his kingdom. so Corlys urges him to build a trade empire but to do so will frustratingly prevent him from spending time with the reader.

Laenor and Joffrey also see how the Martell Prince is just much tamer than the other boys. The Martells care for family above all, so they would let Laenor and Joffrey stay with them and spend as much time with the reader. There's also them able to be more open with their relationship and not live in fear.

The same can't be said for the rest of the boys, who will take all the reader's time once they get the chance.

It will encourage the boys to focus on their duties. The adults are trying their best to sabotage any arrangements. It may even make the Lannisters, Velaryons, Hightowers and Targaryens to work together for once.

With Viserion, as said, he wants to continue what his father and grandfather started. He may have built a kingdom for himself, but it further strays him away from the reader.

[avonne-writes]

Notorious rock band Kinslayer performs at the same festival as everyone's favourite boyband, the Strong Boys.

There's a full-blown fandom war going on over whose concert will be more popular. Gossip columnists flock to the event as well, hoping to catch scandal-magnet Aegon Targaryen in the act with a groupie (again) or to snap a photo of media darling Jacaerys "Jacey" Velaryon's rumoured engagement ring.

Both nights are a blast. Kinslayer perform their hit single Eye for an Eye from their new album, Dance of the Dragons. There's a huge bonfire in the middle of their stage, and "One-Eye" plays an insane guitar solo in front of it on his favourite guitar, Vhagar. There are slick black tear tracks painted on his face, his glass eye is a glittering sapphire and his long hair blows in the wind. Meanwhile, Luke (nicknamed LuV by his ardent stans) and Joff Velaryon go viral for helping a young woman who fainted after Jace threw her a kiss mid-concert.

It's disappointingly scandal-free.

Then someone on social media reblogs a picture.

A casual fan sees it and edits a circle around the figures in it, intending to squeal to their mutuals only, but it somehow gets out. No one knows where it originally came from - it's grainy and blurred, obviously cropped out of a larger photo, but who cares at that point - the fandom blows up. Suddenly, the discourse changes from people obsessing over who Eye for an Eye was written for and whether Aemond smashed anyone's camera this weekend.

All people talk about now is Luke climbing One-Eye like a tree.

They're kissing, that much is clear even through the mess of pixels. Aemond’s hands are on Luke's ass and he has Luke lifted clear off the ground while Luke's hands are tangled in his hair. There's a Louis Vuitton bag and a pair of sunglasses by Aemond's feet.

Someone decrypts the words written on an object in the background, and the Internet has a location now, the private jet hangar where Kinslayer touched down. The most shameless gossip rags start running the story on their cover page - LuV and One-Eye, end of a Fated Feud?

Somewhere on the other side of the world, Kinslayer's publicist, Otto screams into the night in frustration.

[saltandfire-blog]

Salt and Fire

Summary: Lucerys Velaryon belongs to both sea and sky. His whole life he has tried to prove his blood runs thick with not just fire but salt, despite the scandalous accusations that have haunted him and his brothers. Aemond Targaryen is nothing but fire, and before their families tore them asunder, his nephew was one of the few people he did not scorch. History books would have you believe the green and black children of House Targaryen grew up enemies, but before eyes and loyalties were slashed, there was once devotion between the two second sons. As boys grow into men, it is easier to repay an injury, because forgiveness is a burden and revenge a pleasure.

Chapter Thirteen

what shined so brightly now destroys me

Orwyle had his own rooms in the tower of the rookery and Aemond stared into his lit hearth that reminded him of the one he had sat beside while everyone gathered from Driftmark to peer at his torn open face. Fire numbed him, It helped him disassociate from having to look at his father glaring angrily at him. The licks of it's flames and the pop of the logs were a much more comforting sound while his mother and the Grand Maester discussed his wound and it's treatment in the background of his thoughts.

Some days when he wasn't expecting it, certain reminders dragged him away from wherever he was and back to the caves below High Tide.

Shouts and screaming grew louder.

Whenever he saw the knife in his mind, he still remembers how the stones in it's hilt reflected off the torch lights and his hand would always clench, blindly seeking the rock he had found in the dirt.

He remembered it's weight and jaggedness when he held it, even long after he'd dropped it in that cave.

“Aemond?”

His mother's voice pulled him back when he almost shivered, still able to feel the trickling of his blood rushing down his face.

He hadn't noticed his mother and Orwyle had stopped speaking and were staring.

“Sorry,” he mumbled meekly.

His mother looked concerned while Orwyle repeated himself, “I was saying, My Prince, I must implore your rides on your dragon should cease until you are entirely healed.”

“Orwyle says this new swelling is concerning,” Alicent told him,

“If we are not diligent with keeping the Prince's wound clean, infection will set in, Your Grace.”

Hearing he could not fly Vhagar immediately had him bristling.

“You said if it was tightly bandaged it would be acceptable.”

“That may be –”

“Yesterday you were gone half the day,” his mother interjected, her own voice growing severe. “While on Vhagar, when was it you changed your bandages?”

“I came here immediately once I returned…”

“Yes My Prince, and the dressings were much more soiled than should be – ”

“You can't keep me from Vhagar,” he interrupted, his temper beginning to flare with impatience.

Aemond knew where this was leading. His mother had already begged him before, but he refused to slacken on his still incipient bond with Vhagar.

“I do not intend to,” she urged, softening as she could no doubt see him completely shutting any further advise from consideration. “Perhaps she can guard your life that you so ceaselessly insist on endangering better then I, but this is only a temporary price you must pay to continue to ride her and must follow the maester's instructions until you are fully healed.”

“I thought I'd already paid my price for her.”

Cont. A03

[stargirliez]

After watching House of the Dragon and becoming incredibly invested in the story, i decided to create an OC within the HOTD universe.

So here is my OC Alyssa Targaryen!

Underneath the cut i am going to put some info and background on her.

Alyssa Targaryen is born in 111AC to Lady Rhea Royce and Daemon Targaryen.

In 115AC Alyssa’s mother dies in a horse riding accident and Alyssa(4) is soon after moved to live with her uncle, King Viserys, as her father is at war in the Stepstones.

10 years later in 125AC, Alyssa(14) has a long lasting affair with her cousin, Aegon Targaryen(18) with the consent of his sister-wife Helaena Targaryen(16).

Soon after the suicide of Helaena Targaryen(21), Alyssa(19) and Aegon(24) are married.

Alyssa(19) falls pregnant after the consummation of their marriage, giving birth to a healthy baby boy, Maekar Targaryen in 130AC.

Only a year later, Aegon Targaryen(25) is poisoned, forcing Alyssa to run away to Pentos with Maekar in hopes of not being killed by the new king Viserys II.

At the very start of the year 132AC, Maekar dies in his cradle from the flu.

Alyssa dies a few weeks later from starvation in grief from the death of her son, husband and all of her family.

Okayyy so obviously her life is absolutely tragic and but i thought it worked very well with the original story and still seems realistic.

I also made an overall timeline with all the relevant info, this took absolutely forever so i would love if people could read through and see if it is accurate <3

TIMELINE:

97AC: Rhaenyra Targaryen is born from King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn.

105AC: Queen Aemma Arryn dies in childbirth, the baby dies too.

106AC: King Viserys Targaryen and Lady Alicent Hightower are married.

107AC: Aegon Targaryen II is born from King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower.

109AC: Helaena Targaryen is born from King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower.

111AC: Alyssa Targaryen is born from Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce.

111AC: Aemond Targaryen is born from King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower.

114AC: Rhaenyra Targaryen is married to Laenor Velaryon.

114AC: Rhaenyra Targaryen has an affair with Ser Harwin Strong with her husband, Laenor Velaryon’s consent.

114AC: Jacaerys Velaryon is born from the affair between Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Harwin Strong.

115AC: Lucerys Velaryon is born from the affair between Ser Harwin Strong and Rhaenyra Targaryen.

115AC: Lady Rhea Royce dies in a horse riding accident.

115AC: Alyssa Targaryen moved to live with her uncle, King Viserys Targaryen in Kings Landing.

115AC: Daemon Targaryen marries Laena Velaryon.

116AC: Baela and Rhaena Targaryen are born from Laena Velaryon and Daemon Targaryen.

117AC: Joffrey Velaryon is born from the affair between Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Harwin Strong.

120AC: Ser Harwin Strong and his father are killed in a fire in Harrenhal castle.

120AC: Larys Strong now rules over Harrenhal.

120AC:Laena Velaryon goes into labour and gives birth to a deformed son who dies a few hours after being born.

120AC: Laena Velaryon commits suicide with her own dragon, Vhagar’s fire.

120AC: Laenor Velaryon is murdered.

120AC: Aemond Targaryen claims Vhagar, he loses an eye in a fight between him and his cousins over who deserves to claim Vhagar.

120AC: Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen are married.

120AC: Aegon Targaryen III is born from Rhaenyra Targaryen and Daemon Targaryen.

122AC: Aegon II and Helaena Targaryen are married.

122AC: Viserys Targaryen II is born from Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen.

123AC: Jaehaera and Jaehaerys Targaryen are born from Helaena Targaryen and Aegon Targaryen.

125AC: Aegon Targaryen has an affair with Alyssa Targaryen, with the consent of his wife, Helaena Targaryen.

127AC: Maelor Targaryen is born from Helaena Targaryen and Aegon Targaryen.

129AC: King Viserys Targaryen dies of leprosy.

129AC: Aegon Targaryen II is crowned in Kings Landing making him king despite his elder sister Rhaenyra Targaryen being the named heir to the throne.

129AC: The Dance of the Dragons begins, a great war for the throne between King Aegon Targaryen II and his sister Rhaenyra Targaryen.

129AC: Lucerys Velaryon dies after being eaten by Aemond Targaryen’s dragon, Vhagar.

129AC: Prince Jaehaerys is slain by 2 assassins, Blood and Cheese, in revenge for the murder of Lucerys Velaryon.

130AC: Aemond and Daemon Targaryen as well as their dragons, Vhagar and Caraxes, all die in a battle against each-other.

130AC:Maelor Targaryen dies, cause of death is unknown.

130AC: Queen Helaena Targaryen commits suicide by jumping from Maegor’s Holdfast, being impaled on the spikes below.

130AC: Aegon Targaryen II marries Alyssa Targaryen.

130AC: Rhaenyra Targaryen dies by being eaten by Aegon Targaryen II’s dragon, Sunfyre.

130AC: Maekar Targaryen is born from Alyssa Targaryen and Aegon Targaryen II.

131AC: Aegon Targaryen II dies from being poisoned by an unknown person.

131AC: Alyssa Targaryen runs away to live in Pentos with her newborn son, Maekar Targaryen.

131AC: Larys Strong is executed with a blade of ice by Cregan Stark during the hour of the wolf.

131AC: Viserys Targaryen II is crowned king.

132AC: Maekar Targaryen dies of the flu.

132AC: Alyssa Targaryen dies of starvation after refusing to eat in mourning for her son.

133AC: Alicent Hightower dies during an outbreak with Winter Fever.

[presidenthades]

I’ve been cobbling together a playlist for the Daughters-verse, and so far I’ve finished the Daemon’s Handbook portion. I treated it like I was assembling a movie soundtrack. See below for the author’s rambling explanation of why she chose each song (yes, including some Disney).

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea: Daemon’s emo boy anthem at the beginning of the fic. (See lyrics: “some princes don’t become kings.”)

You’re Welcome: If this fic was a Disney movie, Daemon would be singing this song when he’s first introduced to his future stepdaughters (while the Targbros eavesdrop in the background because they’re still under the delusion Daemon is cool).

Secret Melody: Nice, sweeping instrumentals for Daemon’s temporarily idyllic life on Dragonstone.

Mother Knows Best: Replace “mother” with “step-kepa” and this is basically Daemon’s entire anti-Targtower lecture to the girls in the first half of the fic. Dragonstone = Rapunzel’s tower.

Message In A Bottle: All the girls and boys sending ravens to each other.

Yakety Sax: The ultimate chase theme music for when Daemon keeps trying to catch Lucera during her escape attempts.

Natural: When Daemon does the mean thing with Luce and Aemond’s letters.

Rude: THE theme song for this whole fic, but it culminates during Jace and Aegon’s elopement. The entire song is about marrying someone’s daughter even though the dad doesn’t like it. It’s perfect and I won’t hear any arguments.

Royalty: When all the adults clash in Chapter 6 about whether to annul the elopement…

O mio babbino caro: …and then Jace swoops in with the winning hand by pulling on Viserys’s heartstrings! (This song is from an opera and it’s about a girl begging her dad to let her marry her love.)

Dance of Dragons: For the scene where Aegon asks to go to the Stepstones, then Aemond follows him. If I was filming this (I know nothing about filming), young!Aegon and young!Aemond would be saying goodbye to Jace, Alicent, etc. at 2:15, then they’d hop on their dragons and disappear into the clouds, then at 2:33 their dragons explode back out of the clouds and suddenly it’s adult!Aegon and adult!Aemond post-time skip flying to Dragonstone. Or something like that idk.

Wild Heart: Sweet little instrumental for the reunions in Chapter 7.

Don’t You Worry Child: For whenever Daemon and Baela have a conversation/scene together. AKA Daemon’s emotional growth theme music.

Flight of the Silverbird: Instrumental when all of the Targaryen dragons are flying above King’s Landing at the end of Chapter 7.

The Tournament: For the wedding tourney, especially Baela’s mystery knight moment.

Slipping Through My Fingers: Mostly for Rhaenyra’s emotions during the wedding preparations in Chapter 8, but Daemon gets to have some of the feels too.

House Velaryon: Wedding parade scene.

La Coronación: A grand and classic-sounding instrumental for the wedding scene.

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This): Daemon’s fever dream from when he gets wasted at the wedding feast to when he suddenly remembers his blacked-out memories about Luce and Aemond in Chapter 9.

7 Years: Daemon’s big blow-out with Rhaena and then Luce in Chapter 10, and remorse for his actions hits him really hard. (See lyrics: “only those I really love will ever really know me,” and also “soon I’ll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold? Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me?”)

Wasting My Young Years: Daemon is feeling really sorry for himself near the end of Chapter 10 while he hangs out with Joff. Also he feels old.

Daemon and Rhaenyra: For their heart-to-heart at the end when they talk about the kind of world they want to leave for their children.

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life): Daemon’s last big decision in this fic: let Lucera think Aemond set the trap, or find out the truth? He chooses the latter, and that leads to the fic’s happy ending, his mending relationship with the girls, and the culmination of his character arc. Daemon in Chapter 1 would never have made that choice, but that’s why we have emotional growth in stories.

Heroes (We Could Be): End credits music, because Daemon has redeemed himself.

[bisexualwannabewriter]

“The Great War” - Part Eight, Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary : Before Aemond Targaryen was the man he is today, he used to be a young boy, innocent and hopeful enough to fall in love… But the years would not be kind. Not to him, his family, or the one and only love of his life.

In the previous chapter, Corlys Velaryon returned from the Stepstones, severely injured and on the brink of death. As the years have shaped the Lady y/n into someone different from the little girl who once had to leave the Red Keep in a hurry with her Lord father... it is time for her to return there, to fight for Lucerys’ right to inherit High Tide.

You can find the previous chapters and all the chapters to come here.

Chapter Summary : Lady y/n is well aware that returning to King’s Landing means she’ll likely run into her first love again, Aemond Targaryen. But as of now, she has a mission : she needs to find out as much as possible on the current political climate at court. After all, Daemon did warn her : she was on their side now, and there is no room for nostalgia...

Everything was so different.

The Lady y/n could barely find her way around the imposing castle of her youth. The Red Keep had indeed changed quite a lot : symbols of faith were found everywhere now, and made it hard to recognize anything. Lady y/n was certain the Queen Alicent was to thank for this. But if this felt odd for her, she wondered just how strange it would feel to the Princess Rhaenyra and her family.

King Viserys barely had the strength to climb the steps to the Iron Throne now : more often than not, it was his Hand, Ser Otto Hightower one could find sitting there. It was hard to believe this same man had once managed to ride Balerion, the largest of all Targaryen dragons since Aegon's conquest. The King actually ruled the Seven Kingdoms in his bedchambers now, surrounded by maesters and septons. Although 'ruled' was perhaps too generous of a word, as he left most of the important decisions in the care of his small council and his Queen.

Y/n found herself in the courtyard, drawn to the rumor of a fight. She was dressed in plain clothes, not to draw too much unnecessary attention to herself. She could've been anyone, and in many ways she was now. Just... anyone. Not a Princess' childhood companion. Not an important Lord's daughter. Not a Prince's lover. She only appeared to be some pretty maiden in dull colors, fading into the background of a courtyard, watching some knight.. (Wasn't it Ser Criston Cole ?) train with... No. It could not be.

Facing Princess Rhaenyra's former protector, was a tall, slender man, with long hair so fair, they were silver. The man moved so quickly and gracefuly, it was almost hard to follow his movements, which was even more impressive given his eyepatch. Everything around the enchanting creature y/n was observing seemed to disappear, until there was nothing left but him. There was no sound, no smell, no sense of reality in that moment. A volcano could very well have erupted and wiped everything out : she would still be standing there, watching him. King's Landing could've suffered the same fate as the old Valyria, and the Lady wouldn't have noticed anything but Aemond.

She couldn't help it, even after all those years, even after everything. She hadn't realised she had in fact stopped breathing altogether, like she couldn't properly function in his presence now.

The Lady closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Time had passed, and things had changed. Yes, coming back here was a shock, but she had to regain some form of control over herself. She was better than this now. Her past was locked away, in the deepest pits of her soul, and it had no power over her anymore; it couldn't hurt her. It wasn't love, not anymore : only its persisting ghost. When she opened her eyes again, she quickly walked inside of the Red Keep.

As she entered the castle, she could've sworn Aemond's remaining eye was on her.

(...)

It didn't take long for y/n to understand the odds weren't in their favor. Vaemond had already presented his case to the Queen and the Hand. Otto Hightower had always claimed to put the good of the realm above all things, but what he deemed 'good', didn't necessarily align with the interests of others. "The threat of war" was an argument the Hand apparently enjoyed using, but where did the real threat come from ? King Viserys had named Rhaenyra his heir, and had approved of Lucerys as Corlys Velaryon's heir. The whole realm witnessed it. So who was threatening anything ? More importantly, who was really threatened? The greatest fleet in all Westeros would belong to Lucerys, making him - and by extension his mother - more powerful than ever. It was understandable for Vaemond to seek that power for himself, but not only. Should he become the next Lord of the Tides, the Greens would have the advantage.

Ultimately, it was more than likely Ser Otto would lead the debate around the matter. He had to pretend it was his great hope Lord Corlys would survive his wounds, but the Lady y/n saw the ugly truth.

So far, she had also learned a bit more about Rhaenyra's siblings, and who they had grown up to be. Aegon was actually worst than what she had anticipated. He was a lazy and sulky young man, known to fondle any serving girl who had the mischance to find herself too close to him, and to drown himself in ale and strongwine whenever he had the chance. Rumors had it he had actually sired a couple of bastards already. Helaena had given him twins named Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, but the children were tiny and slow to grow. As for the Princess Helaena herself, her peculiar charms hadn't changed much. She was known for speaking in cryptic language at times, but she was much beloved by the people of King's Landing nonetheless.

As for Aemond... he was known for being a dangerous and proficient swordsman, under the guidance of Ser Criston Cole. And by the looks of it, he had even surpassed his tutor. He was known for his hot temper, and his unforgiving nature. Neither him nor Aegon were very popular at court... unlike their youngest brother Daeron, who had been send very early on to Oldtown to squire for ser Otto's older brother. Y/n had never seen much of him.

The Lady quickly found her way back to the Rogue Prince and the future Queen when they arrived a bit later, and dutifully told them everything she had learned, under their approbative gaze, like she had passed a particularly tricky test they weren't sure she'd pass...

Chapter Nine in the making...

[farity]

The Dragon and the Rose

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen and Tyrell OFC

Summary:  In King’s Landing for a wedding, Lady Elynor Tyrell runs into an old nemesis.

Warnings: Death of parents, future smut.

Part 1.

The last time Elynor Tyrell, youngest daughter of House Tyrell, had been in King’s Landing, she had ended up running into a boy, his face angry and red from crying.  She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but the boy shoved her back so hard that she fell on the floor, hurting her wrist.  The boy’s mother, the Queen, had run after him, completely ignoring Elynor, who felt like someone should be paying attention to her.  

“Sounds like Prince Aemond,” the Septa had said, placing a cold compress on Elynor’s wrist.  She added a sprig of lavender before tying it securely, knowing it was the little girl’s favorite. “Some of the others aren’t very nice to him.”  

Even at seven years old, Elynor thought that it wasn’t a good enough reason for the boy - the prince - to take it out on her.

* * * * *

“Well, this looks cheerful, brother.”

Ely looked back, smirking.  The lively Red Keep she remembered was now a colder, more somber version of itself, servants walking quietly instead of chatting along, symbols of the Seven replacing all the dragons that had been depicted on the walls.

“Good thing you’re not marrying a Targaryen.  Then you’d have to live in this mausoleum.”

“Sshhh, Ely,” Tommas scolded, “you never know who is listening.”  The head of house Tyrell escorted his youngest sister into the great room where the new King and Queen awaited them.  His betrothed would arrive later and they would be married the next day, with the wedding between Houses Tyrell and Stark also serving as a show of fealty to the Targaryens by taking place in King’s Landing, situated halfway between the seats of the two great Houses.

Ely smoothed down her skirts as the walked, remembering all her mother’s advice with a pang of sorrow in her chest.  Her parents had caught a disease that had killed them in less than five days.  The children had been visiting their grandparents and by the time they had returned, their parents were dead.  Five years later, Ely felt adrift without them, especially now that Tommas would be forming his own family and their sister already had two babes with her husband.

The king looks pissed, Ely thought, remembering one of the words that wasn’t fit for someone of her station to say out loud.  His eyes were bloodshot and he didn’t look like he could stand unaided.  The young queen was looking around, her fingers tapping some melody only she could hear.  On the other side of the queen . . . 

There he is.  

Ely knew that nearly a decade ago, one of the Velaryon boys had taken Prince Aemond’s eye.  She had wondered what he would look like now, that angry boy who had pushed her so hard, but she had not imagined this.  The dimly lit room only served as a background to his pale skin and silver hair, the eye patch and ties bisecting an angular face that seemed sculpted from the hardest of stones.  There was no warmth in his expression, and when he met Ely’s eyes, the only change was a slight lift at the corner of his mouth.

“Your Graces,” Tommas said, squeezing her hand, and Ely sank into a deep curtsy.  “My sister and I thank you for your kind welcome to King’s Landing.  House Tyrell stands, as always, with House Targaryen.”

The king’s mother rushed to greet Tommas.  “We are delighted that you agreed to hold your wedding here, Lord Tommas.  Lady Elynor, how you’ve grown!  Please, let me show you to your rooms,” she said, accepting Ely’s kiss on her perfumed cheek and guiding them down a hallway.

Ely didn’t look back, but she felt like there was a target on the back of her head.

* * * * *

“Well, seems like the Tyrell girl has blossomed in these last few years,” Aegon said, and laughed at his own cleverness.  Turning to his brother, the young king cupped his hands in front of his chest and mimicked squeezing.  “Is she betrothed to anyone, do you know?”

Aemond didn’t bother looking back at his brother and flipped a page on the book he was reading.  “I don’t know.  I don’t care.”

Aegon yanked the book from his brother’s hands.  “Maybe I care.  I might pay a visit to her . . . Highgarden.”  The king stumbled back, laughing uncontrollably, as Aemond stood and walked out of the room.

* * * * *

The rest of the day was so busy with the bride and her retinue arriving and the interminable dinner peppered with lecherous looks from the king, that by the time she walked back to her rooms, Ely wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in blankets and sleep.  

“Oh!  Hello, who are you?” she said, seeing the young woman talking to the guard outside her door.

The guard bowed and the woman curtsied.  “I am Daria, my lady.  We are here to keep watch.”

Ely tilted her head to one side.  “I know he is here to guard my door, but what are you doing?”

Daria cleared her throat, looking up at the guard.  “Should there be someone attempting to bother my lady, I am to notify my master.”  The woman looked back down at her shoes.

“And who is your master, Daria?” 

“I have instructed them to stand by your door.”

Ely turned at the unfamiliar voice.  

Aemond.

She curtsied, realizing how much taller than her he was now that he was so near.  “Your Highness, pray tell, who do you think would attempt to bother me?”  He was wearing dark gray trousers and a matching shirt with barely visible black embroidery and Ely’s fingers twitched, wondering how it would feel to trace the needlework against his chest.  Stop it.

“Walk with me,” he said, offering his arm.  

His voice was soft, compelling, and it never occurred to her to refuse. She looped one arm around his, immediately surprised by how warm he felt, even through the layers of fabric between them.  

Dragon.  

He walked them out onto a small outdoor area, still saying nothing.  The evening was pleasant, a light cooling breeze on one side and the heat of him on the other.  He was matching his stride to hers, thankfully, but eventually Ely couldn’t stand the silence and stopped walking.  “Are you going to tell me?”

He turned to face her, the moonlight making his hair glow in the night.  “You’re a clever one, I hear, I am sure you would notice someone who can hardly keep sober and who stared at your neckline every time you were in the same room.  And who has nearly unlimited power.”  

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable.  Ely rubbed her arms, the thought of the drunken slob of a king attempting to touch her so revolting that she wondered how the queen endured it.  Shaking her head, she looked up at the prince, who was watching her intensely.  “I shall keep a dagger nearby in case . . . someone . . . were to lose his way during a drinking rage and end up at my door.”

“I believe the guard would be more than capable of dissuading such a person from their purpose,” Aemond smirked.  "Are you cold, Lady Elynor?”

Yes.  She wanted to sink into him, let him wrap his arms around her.  Let him do much more.

“Not at all, Your Highness, and please, it’s Ely.  After all, we’ve known each other since we were children.”

She saw the immediate change in him, the way his face hardened and his gaze darkened.  “I looked for you the next day.”  Much to her surprise, he reached out to touch an errant curl that had escaped her braid, letting the dark, glossy lock wrap around his finger.  “You had already left.”

Ely was afraid to move, afraid to startle him and afraid that he would not touch her again.  “All those years ago,” she whispered.

Aemond nodded.  “I am, truly, sorry.”  He released the curl he’d been holding, watched it bounce gently against her cheek.  “My behavior was abhorrent.”

She shook her head.  “Let it be forgotten, Your Highness.”

“Aemond.”  He reached up again, this time slowly, and cupped her cheek in his hand.  

Fire, she thought, and nodded.

“Say it,” he whispered, and again, it didn’t occur to her to refuse.

“Aemond.”

He swallowed, closing the distance between them.  “May I kiss you?”

Ely nodded again, and closed her eyes as his lips found hers.  She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, wanting more of his heat, felt his thumb gently caress her cheek as he took his time savoring her.  

She had never been kissed before, and whatever she had imagined a first kiss could be didn’t come close to the all-consuming flames in her belly.  Her fingers wrapped around the silver silk of his hair, roamed around the hard muscles of his shoulder, felt the strength and power there.  

When he finally released her, she was almost dizzy with wanting, and nearly whimpered at the loss of his touch.  “I must take you back,” he whispered against her mouth.  “Otherwise I will not stop.”

She said nothing as they walked back because she didn’t trust herself not to tell him she didn’t want him to stop.  

If the guard and the woman noticed her red, swollen lips, they were kind enough to say nothing.  If they noticed the prince leaning in to whisper in the girl’s ear, they pretended not to.  If they saw his hands flexing at his sides as he walked away, they acted as if they forgot about it immediately.

[unohanabbygirl]

I have a feeling Daemon is about to be so fucking insane 😭 He loves Luke so so so much. I’m so glad you didn’t make him be like “Whatever” towards Luke, cause he literally waged war immediately after our babies death. And he was the one to kill both the mfs who killed him before falling to his death. Daemon is the NUMBER ONEEEE Lucerys defender (aside from Rhaenyra cause she’s on top, she breaks the scale) because he’s been doing that shit since before they all died

Daemon’s love for Luke isn’t nearly as talked about as it should be because he literally killed to avenge him without the slightest hesitation. Not even going for Aemond or Aegon but for a defenseless child because that’s exactly what Luke was. A boy with a baby dragon who came as an envoy. Let’s not even get into how Daemon knew better than anyone how close Luke was to Rhaenyra’s heart. That alone was enough to for him to say fuck all this talk of making peace.

He’s always loved the Velaryon boys to pieces so it only makes sense for him to be worried when it comes to Luke’s background and mental state. He’s good at reading people so from the first time they met he could tell the kid had experienced some tuff times.

I also liked to add in that Daemon hates child predators and r*pist above all else. So when the time comes he’ll happily revert back to his city watch commander days and start chopping some wee wee’s off.

[potato-frenzy]

Can I share with you the image of Laenor as a dad vs typical little kid things.

Like little Aegon or Aemond or Luke saying they'll marry Rhaenyra when they're grown up with that besotted smile like little boys do when they proclaim they'll marry their mother.

Laenor's laugh and well you can't marry her. Except he can't say 'because she's your sister' or 'because she's your mother' since they're Targaryens and Velaryons and that's not exactly off limits.

Resorting to "She's already married to me." which ends in upset little one tears, or Aemond pragmatically telling him he can marry Helly then and then he'll marry Nyra.

I love this so much. Laenor would be so patient with them and you know the second he tells him that's not how it works to the swap Aemond just goes "Well then, I'll just fight you."

The conversation devolves from there and Aegon is laughing in the background watching the King Consort have a debate with a very determined toddler. Aegon wins the argument by saying he swore he'd marry Luke when they grow up.