#wanting Alicent to kiss rhaenyra's feet

[dirtytransmasc]

just got an influx of straight up wild asks in my inbox and like... they're giving me a run for my money, not cause they hold any substance but cause they're just so out there I don't even know what I'm supposed to say.

send help.

[raven-dor]

birds of a feather

In which gwayne's wife misses her friends, and he remedies that by visiting during their nephew's second name day

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: tension between friends, fluff, reuniting, allusions to nsfw, FLUFF

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

AN: this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!

The familiar view of King’s Landing stood outside the carriage window, butterflies erupting in the young woman’s stomach. After two years, she was back in the place she’d called home for most of her life. She fidgeted with her dress, eager to leave the carriage and see her friends. As much as Y/N loved her husband, she’d missed her friends beyond belief, and when Gwayne had mentioned they’d been invited to their nephew’s second name day, she’d jumped at the chance. 

He smiled, tilting his head. “You seem eager.” 

She grinned, her husband’s teasing would not place a damper on her happiness. “I am. I’ve missed them more than I care to say.” 

He raised an eyebrow, laughing. “Do I really bore you so?” 

“Yes. You are quite boring.” She smirked. “If only I had a handsome, young husband to entertain me. Instead, I am-” His lips attacked hers, and she cackled, throwing her head back. “You know I adore you.” 

“And I you.” He grinned, nuzzling his nose against hers. “We’re here.” 

She squealed, straightening her dress. “After you, husband.” 

The carriage door opened; Gwayne walked out first, extending his hand. “My lady.” 

She smiled thankfully, walking down the steps. With him by her side, she felt like a princess. The way he looked at her made her weak, practically mush. “Thank you, my love.” 

Alicent, Viserys, and Otto stood at the opposite side of the courtyard. The young couple approached, bowing before the king and queen. 

“My lord.” Gwayne nodded.

“Your Grace.” Y/N smiled. “It is most gracious of you to have extended this invitation.” 

Viserys laughed. “Nonsense. I’ve considered you part of my family for many years now.” 

“That is very kind, thank you.” 

Alicent smiled, stepping forward and taking Y/N’s hands into hers. “I have missed you so.” 

“I’ve missed you as well, Your Grace. It has been far too long.” 

The girl's smile faltered at the title, nodding in agreement. “Please, come. We have much to celebrate.” 

“Yes, indeed.” Y/N grinned, walking with Alicent. “How is little Aegon?” 

Alicent’s smile did not reach her eyes. “Well.”

Y/N whispered. “And you? How are you?” 

“I am-” Viserys summoned her across the room. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

“Of course.” Y/N nodded. “I’ll be here.” 

“So?” Gwayne appeared beside her, hooking his arm through hers. “How goes my dear sister?” 

“She’s-” Y/N sighed. “She seems well.” 

Gwayne hummed. “Perhaps we should go fawn over the young prince.” 

She smiled. “I believe I will take a walk around the grounds.” 

He tilted his head. “Would you like me to come with you?” 

She shook her head. “Stay. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your family.” 

He laughed but nodded. “You are my family now.” 

Her cheeks flushed, and she kissed his cheek quickly. “I love you.”

He grinned, squeezing her hand. “I love you much more, my dear.”  

Music rang from the Godswood, a man’s voice echoing throughout the halls. Strange, she’d thought. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to see who was making the noise. A young man sat by at the foot of the tree, stroking the strings of his guitar while he sang. Not far from him sat a young girl with white hair falling at her waist. Y/N grinned, approaching the princess. “Rhaenyra!” 

Her friend's head whipped, a menacing look in her eyes until she realized who had called her name. “Y/N!” She practically jumped to her feet, running to her friend. She hugged her tightly, emotion laced in her voice. “I’ve missed you.” She let her go, looking her over. “Are you well?” 

Y/N nodded, grinning so widely she thought her cheeks would explode. “Very. I feel as if it’s been decades.” 

Rhaenyra’s face looked melancholy. “It is selfish of me to say, but-” She sighed. “I wish you would have stayed.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “Has something happened?” 

She opened her mouth to speak but turned her head around, glaring at the man. “Did I tell you to stop playing?” 

“No, Princess.”

“Again, from the beginning.” She turned back, a faint frown on her lips. “I feel as though I am utterly alone here.” 

“I’m sure that isn’t true, Rhaenyra.” She whispered. “Have you spoken to Alicent?” 

 The princess scoffed. “I would rather fling myself off of the tallest tower.” 

Y/N glared playfully, smacking her arm. “Rhaenyra!” 

Rhaenyra giggled. “What?” 

“You mustn’t say such things.” 

“Are you going to run and tell her?” 

“You know I would never do that to you. And I know that you still hold love for Alicent." She smiled sympathetically. “You were once great friends.” 

She nodded. “Yes. Once. Before she married my father.” She turned back to the tree, retreating to her previous seat. “Come! Tell me of your adventures.” 

Y/N laughed, sitting beside her. “There’s not much to tell other than the fact that I am inexplicably happy. He’s kind to a fault and truly respects me and my opinion.” She smiled, leaning back into one of the many pillows that surrounded them. “It’s refreshing compared to the men we came to know in our youth.” Rhaenyra hummed, staring at her book, and Y/N smirked, nudging her. “And has the princess found interest in anyone as of late?” 

She laughed lightly. “The men brought before me are insulting. I want-” 

“Your Grace.” The singer stood, bowing. 

Rhaenyra didn’t bother looking up from her book. “Did I say to stop? From the beginning.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened, but she made no comment. She was severely outranked, and there was no way she could come out of this situation unscathed if she chose to speak up. The man continued yet again. 

“Rhaenyra?” 

The princess huffed. “Yes, my queen?” 

“Your presence is wanted in the outer courtyard. The royal hunt readies to depart.” 

“I’ve decided to stay here and read instead.” 

Y/N whispered, placing a hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. “I only accepted the invitation because I knew you would be attending.” She sighed. “Please.” 

Alicent had evidently had enough of his singing because she cut him off. “You may go, Samwell.” 

“You are to stay by order of the princess.” 

Y/N felt as if she should leave. It was uncomfortable enough being stuck in between the two when Alicent was first promised to Viserys, and the tension was practically visible between the two former friends. She began to stand, and Rhaenyra hissed, pulling her back down. “Don’t.” 

“The queen commands you to leave the Godswood at once.” Samwell nodded, leaving without another word. Y/N honestly wished to thank Alicent; his voice was quite annoying once you heard the same song three times over. “The king wishes for you to join us.” 

“The king has much to celebrate; he does not need me.” 

“He wants for us all to be together. Perhaps the hunt could be… fun.” 

Y/N nodded, looking back at Rhaenyra. “Together again.” 

The princess sighed, looking up from her book. “Is it the king’s command?” 

“Yes, but it-” 

She huffed, standing up. “Then at once, Your Grace.” 

“But it needn’t be.” Alicent looked positively miserable. “None of it needs be this way in truth, Rhaenyra.” 

The blonde girl looked at Y/N once more, nodding. “I’ll see you at the hunt.” Without sparing so much as a look at the queen, she retreated out of the Godswood, her hair swishing as she stepped. 

Y/N sighed, linking her arm through her sister-in-law’s. “Let me help you to the courtyard. I’m sure, being this far along, things have begun to hurt.” 

Alicent smiled. “It is easier the second time, but I would appreciate the company.” 

“So…” Y/N whispered. “Have you thought of any names?” 

“I must admit, I haven’t put much effort into that as I should.” 

“I’m sure you have a busy schedule.” She smiled sympathetically. “If you’d like, we can conjure some up while we attend the hunt.” 

“I’d like that.” She leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’d like that very much.” 

The royal carriage pulled into the campsite, the courtesans gathering around to greet them. Viserys exited first, followed by Alicent and Aegon. Y/N tilted her head, leaning over and whispering in her husband's ear. “Where’s Rhaenyra?” 

He simply shrugged, clapping loudly. His uncle grinned. “Hail, hail, Aegon the Conquerer Babe, second of his name! Here’s to his grace on his second name day!” 

Viserys smiled brightly, raising his son into the air. Thunderous applause echoed through the woods, but Y/N could not bring herself to be quite as enthusiastic. It seemed as if everything was off, different than how she’d left it. Minutes later, the crowd dispersed, but Y/N stayed, approaching the royal carriage. “May I come in?” 

Rhaenyra nodded, staring at the ground. “I will never understand why father has forced me to come along.” 

She placed a comforting hand over Rhaenyra’s. “Your father has always wished for his family to be happy and together.” She laughed. “Although he has a rather odd way of showing it.” 

Rhaenyra sighed, leaning her head back against the carriage wall. “Must I really go into the lion's den and entertain these lords and ladies?” 

“It is the life of being a princess, I imagine.” She smiled sympathetically. “One day, you will be queen, and you will be able to attend things at your leisure.” 

“When I am queen, we will not have hunts like these, I can assure you.” She smirked, looking out the open door. “I suppose I should leave the carriage.” 

“It would be wise, Princess.” Y/N grinned, nudging her friend. “If you need me, send word, and I will come.” 

She stood, curtsying when Rhaenyra called out. “I need you.” 

Y/N laughed. “Shall I accompany you, Your Highness?” 

“Yes,” Rhaenyra stood, linking her arm with Y/N’s. “You shall.” 

They walked down the steps together, entering the large red tent directly in front of them. Y/N leaned over, whispering in her friend's ear. “It is quite extravagant for a second name day. I doubt your brother will remember this.” 

The princess nodded, walking further into the tent. Voices could be heard gossiping, but one, predictably, stood amongst the rest. Ceira Lannister’s proud tone interrupted Lady Redwyne’s. “Lady Johanna was reported to have been abducted when one of Lord Swann’s ships sailed through the Stepstones.” 

“What will happen to Lady Johanna?” 

“She’s to be sold to a pillow house in the Free Cities if you believe the rumors.” 

A man’s voice spoke. “I fear the gods did not make me for hunting. Might I sit with you, my ladies?” 

“But of course, please join us.” Alicent smiled. She had always been kind-hearted. “Larys Strong, youngest son of our master of laws, Lord Lyonel.” 

“My lord husband says that no king has been able to tame the Stepstones for long. It’s an inhospitable place suited only for savages.” The pair rounded the lobby, peeking in through the curtains. 

“Perhaps the Princess…” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened. “Could provide us with some insight.” 

They stepped through, smiling. Rhaenyra laughed. “I’m not sure how I could; I’ve never been to the Stepstones.” 

“Your dear uncle is the great mind behind this war. Is he not?” 

Y/N smiled condescendingly. “Are we so quick to blame family members for their relative's wrongdoings? I seem to remember, Lady Lannister, not long ago, your son Lord Jason almost burned the city’s sept to the ground.” She tilted her head. “Were you the great mind behind that exhibition?” 

Rhaenyra tensed. “I have not spoken to Daemon in years.”

The Lady Lannister’s face looked sour. “Since you supplanted him as heir, I imagine.” 

Alicent’s eyebrows raised. “Daemon made his choices, Lady Ceira. The princess was more suited to the role.” 

Lady Redwyne sighed. “He’s made a mess, and the King must put an end to it. Send fleets and men and clear out the triarchy for good.” 

Y/N murmured. “I was not aware you were the master of war.” 

Rhaenyra tilted her head. “But the crown is not at war.” 

“The crown is at war, Princess. Though your father refuses to admit it, we’ve been dragged into it by your Uncle and the Sea Snake.” 

Y/N opened her mouth to retort, but Rhaenyra beat her to it. “And how have you served the realm as of late, Lady Redwyne? By eating cake?” 

Rhaenyra waited for no response, dragging her friend outside as she laughed. “Where are we going?” 

“Anywhere but here.” She rolled her eyes. “None of those ladies have any idea what it is like to rule. What makes them think they can speak as if they do?” 

“It is just what they do, Your Highness.” She laughed. “And no one is a better gossip than the ladies we just encountered.” 

They stopped by the fire, staring into it. “I wonder, Princess-” Y/N fought the urge to groan. She was already annoyed, and now completely understood why Rhaenyra acted the way she had as of late. “Was your own second name day as grand as this?” 

 “I honestly don’t recall, and neither will Aegon.” 

The man stood, bowing before her. “Lord Jason Lannister.” Rhaenyra and Y/N smiled politely. 

“I gathered that from all the lions.” 

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He snapped, ushering over his servant. What a pompous man, Y/N thought. She pitied the poor woman who would have to marry him. She began to pull her arm out of Rhaenyra’s when she tightened her grip, sending her a quick cry for help. Y/N would have laughed if their company was not present. 

“Your twin serves on my father’s council.” 

“Tyland is frightfully dull; Gods love him.” He handed the pair of them cups, smiling proudly. “The finest honeyed wine you’ll ever taste. Made in Lannisport, of course.” 

Rhaenyra smiled back sarcastically. “Of course.” 

“The Kingswood, it’s fine hunting ground. But the best spot is to be found at Casterly Rock, near my home.” 

Y/N fought the urge to laugh. “I beg pardon, my lord, but I believe you are mistaken. The woods surrounding Old Town have been known for centuries for its hunting grounds.” She smiled. “King Jaehaerys himself often visited for the very same purpose.” 

The Lannister man smiled politely, whispering to Rhaenyra. “Might we talk alone, Princess?” 

Rhaenyra shook her head. “Lady Hightower is a good friend, my lord. Anything you wish to say may be said in front of her as well.”

He sighed, going back to his obviously prepared speech. “Have you been to Casterly Rock?” 

“Once, on tour with my mother when I was young, and I honestly cannot recall much of that either.” 

“The Rock is thrice the high of the Hightower in Oldtown,” at this Y/N had rolled her eyes. “Taller still than the Wall in the North. It’s been said that if one were to stand in the tower on a perfect day, one could see clear across the Sunset Sea.” 

“It must be quite something.” 

“I don’t have a Dragonpit, of course, but I do have the means and resources to build one.” 

Seven Hells. Y/N’s heart dropped. He was proposing to Rhaenyra. The Princess tilted her head. “Why would you need a Dragonpit?” 

“To house Dragons, of course.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d do anything for my queen or lady wife.” 

Y/N whispered. “Rhaenyra, perhaps we should-” 

Rhaenyra smiled, handing him back their cups. “Thank you for the wine.” She stalked back to the tent, practically dragging Y/N. 

“I think I’ll go find Gwayne for a moment,” Y/N called out. “I would prefer not to be stuck in the screaming match between you and your father.” 

The princess simply nodded, letting go of her friend's arm. Y/N huffed, smiling as her husband came into view. “My love.” 

He kissed the back of her hand. “Having fun?” 

“I forgot how exhausting it is to be her companion.” She frowned. “It must be horrible to be put on such a high pedestal.” 

Gwayne mumbled. “Imagine being the queen.” 

She looked over at Alicent, who looked lost in a sea of vipers. “Imagine.” 

Viserys’s voice carried above the rest, and Y/N sighed, leaning her head on her husband's arm. “It’s starting.” 

He looked puzzled. “What is, my dear?” 

She gestured over to the King and Princess, who were in a heated discussion. “The reason I came to find you. I knew they’d start yelling. I cannot tell you the amount of arguments I was stuck in the middle of.” She shivered. “Targaryens have the blood of dragons in their veins, and it is evident when they are angry.” 

The tent quieted, the whole of its inhabitants looking at the royals. Rhaenyra ran off, and Gwayne leaned down, whispering in Y/N’s ear. “Aren’t you going to go after her?” 

She shook her head, smiling sadly. “She always does best when she is by herself, given time to think.” She looked up, wiggling her eyebrows. “Besides, I’d rather be here with you.” 

“Oh?” He smirked, his eyes dark. “That is nice to know.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for his lips. “I live to serve you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “We both know that’s not true. Quite the opposite, really.” 

“Gwayne.” He hummed. “Stop talking and kiss me.” 

“Yes, my lady.” He leaned down, kissing her deeply. “Shall we retire early?” 

She gasped, hitting his chest indignantly. “It is only half past two.” 

“And?” 

“Y/N.” The pair broke apart, smiling at the King. “Your Grace.” 

He grinned. “How have you been, my dear?” 

“Well, my king.” She placed a hand on Gwayne’s chest, smiling up at him. “I have been very well.” 

“Shall I be hearing news of a babe anytime soon?” 

Her cheeks flushed, losing the ability to speak. She felt nauseous. Gwayne laughed. “Hopefully, Your Grace.” 

Viserys laughed along with her husband. “Perhaps you could tell Rhaenyra how rewarding marriage has been for you.” He failed to hide his annoyance. “She is quite stubborn about the idea.” 

“I’m sure she will come around in time, Your Grace.” She smiled. “Rhaenyra understands the importance, and with a kind match, she will be more than happy to fufill her duties. I am sure of it.” 

Viserys nodded. “Enjoy the hunt.” 

“We will. Thank you, Your Grace.” The king walked away, and Gwayne whispered. “Do you really believe she will be so willing?” 

“Seven Hells, no.” Y/N laughed. “I doubt she will marry willingly.” 

He smiled. "Were you once that way?"

"I remember rejecting your first proposal." She raised an eyebrow. "I never thought I would marry."

"I'm surprised."

"And why is that?"

He pulled her closer, a loving look in his eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't have a line of suitors out of the castle."

She laughed, kissing him on the cheek. "How sweet."

Gwayne laughed at the Lords who were shoving food down their throats like it was their last meal. “I thank the gods every day that I am not Lord of Hightower.” 

“And why is that husband?” 

“I would have to go on those dreadfully long and unfair hunts.” He laughed. “You know as well as I that hunting in Old Town is just that: hunting. We do not strap the beast down; we actually track the animals.”

She smiled. “What a kind man you are.” 

He glared. “Are you jesting?” 

She scoffed, acting surprised. “What would make you state such a claim? I am simply telling you how kind you are.” 

“For some reason,” He leaned down. “I do not believe you.” 

“Well, perhaps, dear husband,” She reached for his lips. “You should.” 

“We should retire.” He whispered. “They do not need us.” 

“I would love to retire.” 

He sighed. “But?” 

“But I feel horrible, leaving your sister by herself. Her husband…” She whispered. “Seems more preoccupied with his wine than her well-being.” 

He dropped in head on her shoulder, groaning. “Must you be so considerate?” 

“Yes,” she kissed his temple. “I must. Now remove your head from my shoulder. I want to sit with your sister.” 

He sat up, glaring. “You take the fun out of everything.” 

“That’s not what you said a fortnight ago.” She whispered, a chill running down his spine. “After I spend some time with her, I will be yours. I promise.” 

He smirked. “I look forward to it.” 

She stood up, curtsying in front of Alicent. “My Queen. May I?” 

She nodded eagerly. “Please.” The cupbearer came over, pouring her a glass. “Would you like some?” 

“I believe if I have any more, I will not be able to walk."

Alicent laughed. “Is my brother treating you well?” 

“He is a gracious husband," she smiled. "I wish you could have attended the wedding.” 

“I do as well.” She sighed. “I fear I have less freedom than one would think a queen is allowed.” 

“Surely Viserys understands your need to see family.” Y/N lamented. “Perhaps we could convince him of a trip to the country.” 

“Perhaps.” Alicent did not look hopeful. “He is rather preoccupied.”

“You have the ladies at court to keep you company, I hope?” 

“Yes…” She sighed. “But I find that I have few true friends at the moment.” 

“Alicent…” Y/N held her hands. “You have me.” 

Her eyes watered. “I miss when it was the three of us. Is that wrong to say?” 

Y/N shook her head. “I feel the same. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could go back.” 

“Does Gwayne not-” 

“I love your brother, truly.” She smiled. “But friends are important, good for the soul.” 

Alicent grinned, tears falling. “Please write to me.” 

“Of course.” She nodded. “Of course I will.” 

“Sister?” The girl turned around, smiling at her husband. “Are you alright?” 

The queen nodded. “I missed your wife’s company.” 

Gwayne grinned. "She is certainly something, isn't she?"

Y/N blushed, shoving him away. “I’m glad we made the trip.” 

“Shall I leave you two-” 

His sister shook her head. “I’m retiring.” She looked at Y/N once more. “I will miss you.” 

“I will miss you just as much.” Alicent stood, and Y/N walked into her husband's embrace. “You have made me a very happy wife, Gwayne.” 

“Well, I live to serve you.” He smirked. “You are my joy.” 

“You flatter me.” 

“It is true. I am not a liar, as you well know.” He slung an arm across her shoulders. “Let us go to bed.” 

"I'm not feeling tired." She grinned mischievously. "Are you?"

"Quite the opposite." Once they left the tent, he put his arm under her legs, sweeping her off her feet. Y/N giggled, leaning her head against his chest.

"I'm glad we understand each other."

He pushed through their tent's entrance, dropping her on the bed and hovering over her. "Have I told you how much I long for you?"

She shook her head, blushing.

He sighed, leaning down. "Let me show you."

“Rhaenyra!” Y/N called out, racing towards her friend. She hugged her quickly. “We were worried.” 

“We?” The princess smirked. “Or my father?” 

Y/N frowned. “I will miss you dearly.” 

"Have you not heard? I’m being sent on a tour to find a suitor of my choosing.” 

“That’s wonderful. I knew your father would come around.” 

She squinted. “My father said it was your words that made his mind.” 

“I-” Realization dawned on her. “I said that you would possibly be inclined to marry if you found a kind match you will be more than willing to fulfill your duties.” 

“Well, whatever you said, I am glad of it. One of the stops is Old Town.” She grinned. “I will see you in just a few short months.” 

“I am counting the days.” Gwayne waved her over, and Y/N curtsied. “Princess.” 

She ran over to her husband, and he caught her, laughing at her enthusiasm. “You are quite bubbly this morning.” 

She grinned, whispering in his ear. “I had a rather productive night.” 

“Productive?” He raised an eyebrow. “I would say romantic.” 

She nodded. “Yes, of course.” Walking towards the carriage, she gasped when he shut the door, his grin resembling that of a wolf. “Perhaps I should show you the meaning of the word.” 

Y/N blushed, biting her lip. “Yes." She leaned back. "Perhaps you should.” 

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

WRITER SARA HESS TALKING ABOUT RHAENYRA AND ALICENT'S RELATIONSHIP IN SEASON 1 AND THEIR MOTHERHOOD FOR VARIETY MAGAZINE.

“I can definitely understand that it’s hot watching complex female characters who have agency and who are trying to navigate the world and understand themselves. Like, that is hot,” nonbinary actor D’Arcy says.

“And is very different from, I suppose, more two-dimensional portrayals of female sexuality.” 

Cooke adds: “I guess what’s alluring, and quite scintillating, is that they all live in quite close proximity to each other,” noting “House of the Dragon” Season 1’s focus on keeping its characters near the Iron Throne in King’s Landing.

“Stealing these loaded looks with someone that you fancy and that’s forbidden, that’s hot. It’s all hot.”

“We had a lot of conversation at the beginning about, is this a feature or a flaw?” Hess says.

“There’s a lot of births, do we want to see a lot of births? My thinking was, every single childbirth I’ve ever seen on television, in any show, in any genre at any time, has always looked exactly the same: the woman lying on her back with her feet in the stirrups and doing the pushing and the baby comes out.”

“In my experience, women give birth in vastly different ways.”

“I thought we should show them all and they be really, really different, separate experiences and not just, now there’s that birth scene and we all know exactly what it looks like.”

FOLLOWING THE BIRTH SCENE IN EPISODE 6, D'ARCY RECALLS SHOOTING A PARTICULARLY REALISTIC MOMENT OF MOTHERHOOD WHEN RHAENYRA FINALLY GETS TO REST AFTER GIVING BIRTH AND IMMEDIATELY GOING OFF TO SHOW THE BABY TO ALICENT:

“She gets in and [her sons] Jace and Luke have gone and got a dragon’s egg and want her to look at it.”

“And I just remember responding, ‘Wow, that looks perfect,’ but not looking at them at all, I was looking in the other direction.

“And that felt like what a lot of parenting is probably like.”

FOR COOKE, THE MOTHERHOOD MENTALITY HIT IN EPISODE 9, WRITTEN BY HESS AND DIRECTED BY CLARE KILNER:

“That moment in the carriage where Alicent’s hungover son asks her if she loves him, and she says it by smiling and saying, ‘You imbecile.’

“Like, it’s so obvious, this is all for you.”

“Everything that I’ve done.”

“Everything that I’ve sacrificed.”

“All the awful things I’ve done in order to facilitate your ascension is because I love the bones of you.”

BUT MOTHERHOOD IS FAR FROM THE ONLY ASPECT OF A WOMAN'S LIFE THAT FEMALE WRITERS LIKE HESS AND WOMEN DIRECTORS INCLUDING KILNER AND PATEL INFUSED INTO THE STORY, WITH MUCH OF THE SEASON FOCUSING ON YOUNG ALICENT (EMILY CAREY) AND RHAENYRA (MILLY ALCOCK) AND THEIR DEEP BOND AND INTENSE FALLING OUT.

“There’s an element of queerness to it,” Hess says.

“Whether you see it that way or as just the unbelievably passionate friendships that women have with each other at that age.”

“I think understanding that element of it sort of informs the entire rest of their relationship… Even though they’re driven apart by all these societal, systemic elements and pressures and happenings, at the core of it, they knew each other as children, and they loved each other and that doesn’t go away.”

Hess continued: “Olivia has told me she believes — and this is her headcanon — that they at some point kissed or made out or had some kind of physical interaction that Alicent’s mother found out about and forbade.”

“And that was Olivia’s head story, ‘Oh, I can’t do that. That’s not right.’ And that’s the background for her in their relationship going forward. I would be 100% down with that.”

COOKE SAYS SHE AND D'ARCY HAVE “DEFINITELY” TALKED ABOUT ALICENT AND RHAENYRA BEING “EACH OTHER'S FIRST LOVE”:

“But when it comes to our iterations of the characters, too much has happened and too much time has passed to probably even recognize those fledgling feelings.”

“But Condal and Hess weren’t “necessarily interested in ever defining” what that love meant in terms of the women’s sexuality.”

“I happen to be a queer woman, but I know straight women who had ‘Heavenly Creatures’ -esque, romantic friendship with their best friend at that age,” Hess said.

“That’s something that I think, probably — I don’t want to stereotype anybody – but it seems to be more a phenomenon with young women than it is with men, probably because whether you’re queer or not, society cares less if you’re physically intimate with each other or hugging or touching each other.”

“You can have sleepovers and sleep in the same bed and nobody cares.”

[novaursa]

Hi Novaursa! I saw that you are taking in requests. Can I make one with Targaryen!Reader (supports team black) and Gwayne Hightower? They had a feelings with each other but they don't act on it (at least on public).They are now in the battlefield and must fight each other.

Divided Banners

- Summary: When the Dance came you picked your half-sister. And now you have to face a price for choices made.

- Paring: niece!reader/Gwanye Hightower

- Note: The reader is a second daughter of the late King Viserys I Targaryen and Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower. The reader is bonded with Grey Ghost.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @holdingforgeneralhugs

The roar of the battlefield surrounds you, a cacophony of clashing steel, screams, and the eerie screech of dragons. You sit atop Grey Ghost, his massive wings beating against the wind, your silver-white hair whipping in the air. You scan the chaos below, searching for your enemies—your family. They are the ones you should be fighting for, but you’ve turned your back on them. For Rhaenyra. For the throne she deserves. For your half-sister, who should wear the crown instead of Aegon.

But even now, in the heat of war, you can’t shake the lingering feeling of dread. You’ve heard the Hightower banners are here, which means he is here—Gwayne.

It has been months since you last saw him. Months since you shared stolen kisses in shadowed alcoves, behind closed doors where no one could see. But in public, you were enemies now, just another Targaryen who had betrayed the Greens, who had turned your back on your mother, on your brothers. On him.

Grey Ghost lets out a low growl beneath you as the enemy comes into view—green banners fluttering in the wind. You feel a pang in your chest, but there is no time for hesitation. You spur Grey Ghost forward, your heart pounding in your chest, as you descend on the battlefield.

The sea of green soldiers swarms below like ants, and you unleash a torrent of fire, scorching the ground beneath. Screams of agony reach your ears, but you block them out. This is war. There is no room for mercy.

Suddenly, a flash of silver armor catches your eye. Gwayne.

He is on horseback, leading a charge toward you, his sword gleaming in the fading light. His face is hardened with resolve, his jaw clenched. He knows it’s you. He always knows.

You curse under your breath, gripping Grey Ghost’s reins tighter, but you can’t look away from him. He’s still so beautiful, even in this moment. Even with the blood on his hands, even as he rides toward you with the intent to kill.

He raises his sword, and you realize with a sickening clarity that you are his target.

“Gwayne!” you call out, your voice lost in the roar of the battlefield. But he doesn’t stop. He can’t.

You dive down, forcing Grey Ghost to pull up just as Gwayne slashes at the air where you once were. His horse rears back, and for a moment, you see his face—pained, conflicted.

He’s struggling. Just like you.

You land on the ground a few feet away from him, dismounting from Grey Ghost as he flies off to circle above. Gwayne’s horse snorts nervously, sensing the tension, but he holds the reins steady.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you. The battlefield fades into the background, and all you can see is him. Gwayne, the man you love, standing before you with a sword in his hand, ready to strike you down. And you—his enemy now, with fire in your veins and blood on your hands.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, his voice barely audible over the din of battle. There’s something desperate in his eyes, a plea hidden beneath the hardness. “You’re making this harder than it already is.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” you snap back, your voice trembling. “Stand by and watch as you kill my family? My sister?”

“They’re my family too,” he growls, stepping closer. His sword is still raised, but his hands shake. “I never wanted this, none of this!”

“Neither did I, Gwayne,” you say softly. “But we can’t change it now. We’re on opposite sides of this war.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Is that all we are now? Opponents?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. The truth is too painful to admit. You’ve always been more than that. You always will be.

For a heartbeat, it feels like the world pauses. You remember the nights spent together, the whispered promises of love, the stolen moments of happiness. But those memories feel like another lifetime now. This is war. And in war, love is a luxury you can’t afford.

He takes another step toward you, his sword lowering ever so slightly. His voice cracks when he speaks. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please, don’t make me do this.”

“I won’t make it easy for you,” you whisper. “I can’t.”

There’s no more time for words. You both know what has to happen. You draw your sword, your hands trembling as you face him. His eyes widen, the hurt in them cutting deeper than any blade ever could.

And then, you clash.

The sound of steel meeting steel echoes around you. Every strike, every swing feels like a betrayal. You don’t want to hurt him, but you know if you hesitate, you’ll die. He’s stronger than you, more experienced, but you’re quicker, your strikes more precise.

He blocks your blows, parrying with practiced ease, but there’s hesitation in his movements. He’s holding back. You know it.

“Stop holding back!” you shout, your frustration boiling over. “Fight me, Gwayne!”

“I can’t!” he snaps, his voice raw with emotion. His sword wavers in his hand, and for a moment, you think you see tears in his eyes. “I can’t do this!”

“You have to!” you scream, slashing at him again, your sword narrowly missing his shoulder. “We don’t have a choice!”

He parries your strike, his breath ragged. “There’s always a choice.”

Before you can respond, a deafening roar fills the air, and you see it—Criston Cole’s scorpion ballista being aimed at Grey Ghost. Your heart stops in your chest.

“No,” you breathe, your blood turning to ice. “No, no, no!”

You turn to run toward Grey Ghost, to scream out a warning, but Gwayne grabs your arm, pulling you back. “Wait!”

“There’s no time!” you shout, struggling against his grip. “They’ll kill him!”

His eyes search yours for a long moment, and then, with a grim resolve, he lets you go. “Run,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

“What?” you breathe, confusion clouding your mind. “Gwayne, what are you—”

“Just go!” he shouts, pushing you toward Grey Ghost. “Before it’s too late!”

You hesitate for a moment, your heart warring with your mind, but then you see it—the way his eyes flicker toward the scorpion, the way his hand tightens around his sword. He’s going to stop them.

“Gwayne, don’t—” you start, but he cuts you off with a pained smile.

“Go,” he says again, his voice breaking. “I’ll buy you time. Just... go.”

Tears blur your vision as you mount Grey Ghost, your heart shattering into pieces. You don’t want to leave him. You don’t want to lose him. But you know if you stay, you’ll both die.

With one last glance, you urge Grey Ghost into the sky, the wind whipping around you as the world blurs beneath you. You don’t look back. You can’t.

You hear the scorpion fire, but there’s no strike. No deathly roar. And you know—Gwayne sabotaged it. He let you live. 

But at what cost?

The war rages on, but a part of you died on that battlefield near Duskendale. And as you fly away, the tears streaming down your face, you know you’ll never forget the sacrifice he made for you.

Or the fact that you may never see him again.

[the-heartlines]

age gap rhaenicent feat. older jealous rhaenyra with her new young queen and stepmother

“Just because you are my father’s new wife, does not mean you’ll ever be my queen!” Rhaenyra cried, sounding young, insipid, jealous, tears pooling in her eyes. “Or my mother, Lady Hightower!”

The young girl, Lady Hightower, remained calm, staring at Rhaenyra with her big brown eyes, saying nothing.

She was too polite, too proper to speak to a princess as her new stepdaughter was speaking to the newest queen. 

It made Rhaenyra shudder with anger, with sheer sadness that her father had chosen someone more than a decade younger than her. 

Almost young enough to be her own daughter.

But Alicent Hightower was far more level headed than Rhaenyra, being her own father’s puppet on a string; one that the hand of the king successfully replaced with her dead mother, when her mother’s blood still stained the place where Alicent slept.

The thought made her skin prickle with rage, the dragoness awakening.

“I will never accept you as more than my father’s whore.” Rhaenyra spat, growling low in her throat, thinking about this pretty, pious girl spreading her legs for a man twice her age. 

Alicent’s pink lips parted as if she was going to speak, but then she closed them, flaring her nostrils instead.

Rhaenyra’s heart and veins were pulsating, roaring with a river of blood.

Good, let her be angry with me. I want her to know how much I despise her.

“What is it, stepmother? Do you have nothing to say to me? Spit it out.” Rhaenyra looked at the young girl’s plump lips again, wondering if her father made her cry, scream when he fucked her the first time, tearing through and taking her maidenhead for himself. 

She also wondered if those cries, the screams of pain, were now ones of pleasure. If her father’s new queen, her perfect  and pristine stepmother moaned like a wanton whore whenever he fucked her.

Rhaenyra pictured Alicent in the throws of passion, lust, pleasure, her lovely figure writhing on the bed. 

She would be so small, vulnerable, even below me.

The thought blinds Rhaenyra with want, desire and before she knows it she’s striding towards her new stepmother, crashing her lips to hers in a passionate kiss. 

Alicent finally utters a noise, a shocked gasp, one of delight, before she’s moaning into her stepdaughter’s mouth, already drunk after one taste.

Rhaenyra’s lips are brutal and demanding, her kiss frenzied as she wraps her arms around Alicent, pulling her small chest close to her heavy breasts. 

Rhaenyra has never kissed anyone so delicate, so soft, like this; with teeth and tongue, saliva and salty tears—pouring all her hurt, her grief, her suffering into the young queen’s mouth, letting her intense emotions empty down her throat. 

“Princess,” a sweet voice moans. low and so so prettily, but it snaps Rhaenyra back to reality, pulling away from her suddenly, and Alicent tries to follow, fall back upon her lips, back into her stepdaughter’s arms, but Rhaenyra keeps her once again at arm’s length, angry with herself.  

Angry with how she let this girl burrow her way into the very flesh, flesh that’s feverish and needy, wanton and desperate for affection, for touch.

She grips her fists around Alicent’s arms, pressing her now swollen, bitten lips together in a harsh line. Lips that mirror her stepmother’s that are even plusher, pinker, now that Rhaenyra has tasted them, tasted her.

“Princess?” The queen questions, worry outlining her wide eyes, blown almost obsidian brown.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath in and out through her nose, because she can smell her cunt. 

How wet and ripe and sweet—earthy and woodsy, full of spice.

Alicent’s presence is all consuming, her scent too much for Rhaenyra to bear, so she loosens her grip around her stepmother and flees from her, running away, leaves her with her finger marks lingering, bruised into her young flesh.

Princess echoes behind her, louder, more hoarse this time, but Rhaenyra’s feet take her far from the hurt in Alicent’s voice, not  ready to face the feelings that threaten to open like a gaping wound. The emotions that pour from her like blood, because the Lady Hightower is like a dagger, digging into Rhaenyra’s flesh, slicing her soul open, to be naked, vulnerable. 

And around her new mother, her new queen, Rhaenyra feels the most vulnerable, the most naked. And most of all she longs to feel that way, craves it from the girl she so despises, who has stolen everything from her. 

The girl who she cannot hate, because Rhaenyra sees too much of herself in her, reflected in her pretty brown eyes.

[queenvhagar]

“Sansa and Alicent both standing strong and alone against a King to defend their family in a room full of people, all of whom watch them hurt and do nothing to help them.”

Why does Team Green compare Sansa (a 13 year old hostage viewed as a traitor’s daughter) being beaten and SA’d in front of the entire court to Alicent (a grown woman who is the Queen) demanding a six year old be maimed and then charging at said six year old with a knife when she doesn’t get her way?

The situations are completely different! Alicent would be one of those people in the room watching Sansa get beaten up and SA’d whilst doing nothing, and Sansa would hate Alicent!

Sansa lived under the very system Alicent sought to uphold, even at her own detriment. Sansa was repeatedly victimised by the system Alicent ensured stayed in place, unquestioned, unchallenged.

One cannot compare a child living in a hostile environment where they’re trying to survive to a woman who purposefully created a hostile environment, because she was petty and bitter

Sansa IS a CHILD alicent WAS A child, but in that situation alicent was a grown ASS WOMAN her FATHER was behind her, her children was there too she wasn't completely alone, never compare them.

And how is Alicent even defending her child by demanding another child (younger than her own) have his eye torn out? and how is that the same as teenage Sansa being beat and SA'd Infront of the court?

🚨 Alicent misunderstander 🚨

🫵

Alicent didn't create a hostile environment. She was placed into an environment that became hostile due to the choices of others around her (ahem Viserys and Rhaenyra). Through no fault of her own did this obvious succession crisis come up where it became clear her sons would have to die for Rhaenyra to rule without dissent.

And y'all forget that Alicent WAS that child then. Alicent WAS that isolated kid forced to do her duty and appease the ruling family. Until she realized that this ruling family would willingly throw her family under the bus to help themselves, and so she was the one who had to find allies for her family and try to prepare for a future where her children might be able to survive. Then when she stopped bending over backwards for people who could not care less about her, suddenly her not kissing Rhaenyra's feet after being lied to and rejected and hurt by her is "bitter and petty" behavior 🤔 as IF her sole motivator for anything and everything she does is somehow focused on making Rhaenyra's life worse out of some kind of jealousy and not her just trying to protect her children from an obvious threat 🤦🏻‍♀️

At Driftmark SURE she had her father and children right there and she was physically not alone obviously, but consider the context man. After knowing her sons are endangered by Rhaenyra and that they will have to die for her to rule, Aemond is jumped by four kids, two of Rhaenyra's sons and two of Daemon's daughters, one armed with a knife, and Aemond's eye is cut out, Rhaenyra immediately jumps to wanting him tortured for information to save her own ass and cover her deception, and the king threatens Alicent and her family with mutilation if they talk about what just happened or speak the truth of the situation. And nobody even tries to talk with Rhaenyra's sons about how they shouldn't have jumped a kid with a knife and cut out their eye - in fact the takeaway for them was that this was all totally justified because Aemond called them a bad name. Meanwhile Alicent and her family realize how isolated they are and how they aren't really viewed as a part of the royal family and how they're powerless to do anything when it comes to the king and his named heir. Alicent is the only one who even expresses concern for Aemond's suffering. His own father rages at him and threatens him despite his eye just having been sliced out. She begs that he's also Viserys' blood, but he ignores her and their children as he always does. Alicent wants ANY justice. ANY consequences. But there are never any.

I didn't even write that original post, but the idea of it all is that both Sansa and Alicent were placed into dangerous and hostile environments where they were forced to accept mistreatment from the families they were married into and try to navigate their way to survival. I don't necessarily think the details of those two specific scenes of them quite match up, but the general link between these two characters is there. Both used their soft power to try to survive in the impossible situation they were in. Both defended their family to the king while having few allies themselves. The characters are more similar than they are different, I would say.

[aryas-faces]

On a positive note, I am unironically shipping Aegon and Larys

Imagine Larys, a boy born disabled, who is abused by society and his family which hardens him. All he cares about is proving people wrong. People are pawns, they see him as deformed, he sees them as dispensable

And then he sees the King. A young man, trying ti get the small folk to like him and being embarrassed by his Hand interrupting every other minute. He watches as the boy submissively listens to his Hand. Larys thinks this will be easy prey; an easy way to become the second most powerful man in the realm

And then something weird happens: When he approaches, Aegon doesn’t take notice of his feet at all. He doesn’t stare at all. He speaks to Larys like an equal

But Larys starts the manipulation all the same, and it works. But on Aegon’s side, Larys finally gives him strength to fight back against one of his abusers, quoting he doesn’t HAVE to have him as Hand. It was manipulation, but Aegon doesn’t realize that. He sees it as someone guiding him away from abuse

Which is why he so readily believes Larys about Alicent and Aemond. This person has helped him before, and now he is again. Larys got whisper that Aegon was going into battle, and immediately went to manipulate him into staying, or else he might lose his chance ti be Hand. And Larys has this staring up at him:

Big, sad, beautiful blue eyes. And again, Aegon believes him with 0 hesitation. He realizes here Aegon is in way over his head: Aegon is weak, vulnerable, and incredibly naive. Not the kind of person who should be playing the game of thrones. He is preyed on, proven by Aegon naming him Master of Whispers, clueless to the manipulation. But why does Larys feel so weird toward this boy? He uses him as a pawn, but he also genuinely doesn’t want to see his life ended. Why?

And then Aegon gets burnt. He is barely alive. His brother is named Regent. Now Larys gets another chance to be Hand. But Aemond rejects him on a brutal level in front of the rest of council. And he does something he never thought he would: He misses Aegon

But surely it’s just because he misses the extra power, right?

But then he goes to see him, intent on manipulating him and he sees the state he’s in, and something inside Larys cracks. He sees this innocent boy who was in over his head pay the price, and became a cripple. The way Larys was born. And Larys feels not only empathy and solidarity, but a genuine sadness for him. And before he can stop himself, he does another thing he never has before: He shares himself at his most bare, safe in the knowledge Aegon won’t judge nor use it against him. And this is how they’re looking at each other

So Larys tries to save Aegon from Aemond, and when it comes to be the most vital, Larys literally saves him, but Aegon didn’t want to be saved at first. He is broken, and he has no one. It’s not a tragedy if he gets killed. And Larys again:

Tells him he isn’t alone. Again, that not is the face of someone only in it for power. He wouldn’t look so despaired at Aegon talking about how he wants to die and has no one if he didn’t care. He wouldn’t share personal details of himself. He is growing fond of Aegon

Them kissing is more natural development for their relationship than Rhaenyra and Mysaria (which came out of nowhere)

And honestly? I’m kinda here for it

[rhaegonapologist]

rhaegon ch 1

Unfortunately for Alicent, Aegon loved his big sister.

An AU where Rhaenyra leaves shortly after the hunt to travel Westeros on Syrax. Her visits, now and then, are the brightest spots in Aegon's life.

Unfortunately for Alicent, Aegon loved his big sister.

She was scared to leave them alone together. Rhaenyra's eyes would thin into slits whenever they settled on Aegon, much like Syrax's right before she unhinged her jaw to rain fire. She didn't even try to hide her contempt. He was just a baby, yet it did not seem to matter. He was a boy, and that was enough.

The hunt was disastrous. Rhaenyra came back all bloodied, but before the king could scold her she rushed straight to Alicent and Aegon. Alicent did not want to hand him over to her, not with her tracks of dried blood and matted locks, iron stinking the air. Aegon would cry, she was sure of it. But her boy looked up with wide eyes and raised his little fists towards Rhaenyra.

"Let me hold him," she said urgently. "I need to see."

She held him awkwardly, and Alicent had to help her shift the boy onto her hip. Rhaenyra closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his hair, inhaled deeply. He smelled just like Baelon, she thought. She could cry.

Aegon giggled and played with her hair. Rhaenyra caught one pudgy little wrist and squeezed. She turned her back to shield Aegon from her father's view and cupped his cheek. Just the two of them. He was made just for her. She lowered her finger to the rabbit heart pulse on his neck and pressed her nail in.

The boy stopped and looked up at her but did not cry. She kept pressing harder, wondering if she could break skin. Alicent saw and felt her heart drop. She couldn't. She wouldn't. Not here. She lurched towards them but before she could push Rhaenyra's hand away, Aegon's laugh bubbled up. He turned his head downwards and kissed Rhaenyra's wrist.

She let go immediately, shocked.

He kicked his feet, playful, almost as if daring her to do it again.

Rhaenyra thrusted him back into his mother's arms. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. King Viserys called for her, ready to spout some sentimental drivel about family but she was out of earshot now. It didn't matter anymore.

Alicent gripped Aegon ever tighter to herself. Her thumb worried over the half-moon Rhaenyra left on her son's red, red neck. Her father caught her eye over Visery's shoulder and the nod he sent her seemed to seal her fate and everyone else's. She felt her stomach drop.

-

Rhaenyra had to leave. That day sealed it. There was no place for her in King's Landing. The offers her suitors brought her seemed more like compensation for her loss in title rather than anything real that could further her claim for the throne. A pathetic farce. She was heir, was this what she was reduced to?

"If I am to rule, I have to see the realm I rule over myself," she said to her father. It wasn't a request. Not when they were at the Dragonpit, with Syrax fully saddled and ready to be mounted.

King Viserys knew this day would come. He was heartbroken, but relieved, for this war between him and his daughter would soon come to an end. He couldn't handle the pressure from his councilors anymore, nor bear another venomous argument with her. At least this way it could be covered as diplomacy and she'd be out of his hair. At least this way there was a chance she'd still answer his letters.

"Go, my only daughter. Do what you must. I give you my blessing," he said. And for the first time since Aemma died, she ran to him with a hug. Of course he cried. They both did.

--

On the other side of the Red Keep, Alicent bounced Aegon on her knee. The boy was strangely sullen today. Rhaenyra had came by last night to say goodbye, had smiled like she used to when Alicent cried for her to stay, and reassured her that this was for the best. Rhaenyra had looked at her and harkened back to the days when they were girls and talked of adventure. Her words dripped with warmth and nostalgia, childhood promises fulfilled, but Alicent couldn't help notice that by moonlight her teeth almost looked sharp. She thought of that day with Aegon, and gods forgive her she hoped something tragic would befall Rhaenyra on her travels so she wouldn't have to think about any of this anymore.

Suddenly a figure blotted through the skyline.

Aegon started to wail.

ch 2

[missglaskin]

Yan!HOTD AU (Velaryon, Hightowers, Targaryens) Part 1: 

Note-This is a rewrite, also the relationship mostly focused now is on Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Viserys. The other families will be more focused in later parts. 

Tags: Some canon scenes of violence (tourney), this is mainly platonic but romantic pairings will come later, scene by scene in ep1, family fluff, character death, child!reader/adopted!reader, cringe writing 

The clouds seem close enough to touch. Wind blows harshly against your face, almost blurring your vision. Yet it feels all the more exhilarating. Suddenly diving into the air, you shriek in excitement, reaching your hands to grab the saddles all too tightly as the hands around your waist do the same.

Your sister, Rhaenyra, can be heard giggling. Her dragon, Syrax, roars as it soars through the sky. The clouds begin to clear and king’s landing comes to view once again. Overlooking the red keep from above. The birds scatter in all different directions. Then the dragon keep is in your line of sight. 

Syrax comes to land. The dragon keepers surround her, shouting commands in high valyrian. Rhaenyra moves from behind you. Her feet landing on the ground. You follow her. Jumping down, almost tumbling if not for her grabbing you. Your ears are filled with Syrax’s purring, and before the two of you leave, you both pet her. Watching as she follows the dragon keepers. 

Your sister’s hand finds yours, both walking to the carriage. Alicent greets you there, a reliving smile on her face. “Don’t tell mother,” Rhaenyra told the two of you during the ride. You simply nod as you observe the passersby through the windows. 

The three of you walk across the castle halls and up the stairs. Arms all linked together. A common sight at court. It still takes you by surprise when the servants or the lords stop and bow when greeting you. You’re not sure if you will ever get used to it, but Rhaenyra and Alicent assure you otherwise. 

You find yourself at the chambers of your mother. The smoke permeates the air with servants at every corner. Your mother, the queen, is seen laid back, fanning herself. It’s when she notices you and Rhaenyra, does she try to sit up. And by the tone of her voice when she addresses you both-you know what it means. You’re in trouble. Still, you approach and kiss her on the cheek. “You smell like dragon,” she says, eyes narrowing on Rhaenyra.

As expected, you were given a lecture. A lecture that didn’t last long. And the topic was soon changed. A topic your sister didn’t like all too well. Not long before, your sister went to leave. “Go take a bath as well,” your mother tells you, “you too stink of dragon.” 

You shake your head, “I don’t want to leave you.” Despite all her best efforts, you can sense how this all pains her. Memories of your previous brothers’and sisters running through your head. In response, she smiles.. Hand reaching to cradle your cheek. “I will be fine sweet girl, now go along.” Hesitantly, you obey.

Alicent and Rhaenyra each take your hand. You look at the queen one last time. Whose smile never withers. A feeling of ease washes over you, returning her smile. 

Dragon stench is hard to wash off. You still reek of it even after spending much time in the bath, using every available scent imaginable. The one that managed to at least help cover the stench was the one gifted to you by Uncle Corlys. It’s from Essos, quite rare. Aunt Rhaenys told you of it. After the bath, you walk around the hallways in search of Alicent. Until your ears perk up at a familiar sound. 

As you sneak around the corner, your footsteps become quieter. Eyes fixed on the tall figure’s back. Uncle Daemon. As you move on tiptoe, your feet inched closer and closer with each step. You squeal, “Uncle Daemon!” as you leap, embracing him from behind. He doesn’t seem surprised, as if he heard you coming from a long way away.

With a smile reserved just for you, he turns to face you. You grin at the name he gave you. Little Dragon. And then your eyes catch the sight of something. The moment you instinctively reach for the shiny object he has clutched in his hands, he lifts his hand up. It’s a necklace. 

“Do you know what this is.” You shake your head. Daemon can see how eager you are to hold it in your hands and chuckles at your impatience. It is made of Valyrian steel. Your uncle tells you. Eyes widening at the dangling metal. It’s like dark sister. Eyes shifting to the sword fastened to his hip. 

He finally places the necklace around your neck. Rhaenyra also has one. At the mention of your sister, you wave him goodbye. Not even waiting for him to speak as you are running through the hallways. Being able to finally breathe when the weirwood tree is in view. There was your sister and Alicent lying on the grass. Why did it take you so long, Rhaenyra asks. Simply by displaying your necklace to her, she immediately understands and eagerly displays her own.

Alicent tries to have you recite your lessons, but it’s all the more difficult with Rhaenyra there. Rhaenyra has her head on Alicent’s lap and you copy her. The two of you exchange looks and you can’t help but smile every time you do so. But it does make Alicent more frustrated, more so when the conversation shifts. 

The mention of your mother makes you frown. You remembered the last baby. They came much earlier than they should. Your father never made you see them. But they all spoke of how it came out, the bloodied and horrible state they were in. 

Your mother mourned them, and with every child’s death. There were three sides pulling at you: your mother, your father, your sister. You didn’t know how to ease their grief, so you just let them hold you close. Soon, you were brought back to reality by Alicent moving from under you. The grass gently pressed against the back of your head. 

It didn’t take you long to get back to your feet and move over to Rhaenyra, watching her tear the page from the book. Alicent scolds her, and once again when she curses, she doesn’t want you to hear such things. But uncle Daemon says it all the time along with other words. You told her. Alicent’s stunned face and Rhaenyra’s amused smile greeted you. 

Late at night, you hear a knock. The door opens and when you see who it is; you run to his arms. As he pats you on the head, your father-Viserys can’t help but chuckle. One cannot fault your excitement, as you haven’t seen him all day. Your father told you he needed to see you before he heads to sleep; he sorely missed you.

He helps you to the bed. Climbing into the mattress and lying on the pillow as he tucks you in. His lips lightly touch your forehead as he bids you goodnight. When your father turns to leave, you had to ask of your mother and he assures you she will be fine before closing the door.

As soon as you got dressed after waking up, you went to see your mother. Only a few days from now, labor will begin. She told you. You were giddy with excitement. With an ear pressed to the now-moving belly from their kicks. You hoped it was a girl. You and Rhaenyra have already decided on the name-Visenya. But once more, your time was shortened as your mother needed her rest.

After saying goodbye to your mother, you moved through the hallways and overheard the nobles passing you, mentioning your uncle. That and a watch of some sort. Daemon was frequently uttered on their lips. As Alicent would say, always getting in trouble. 

It ought to have been a coincidence you passing the council chamber. Hearing the hushed voices from behind the doors, you paused. The guards behind you halt in response. The doors suddenly swing wide open, revealing your uncle. Wearing his bronze armor with a gold cloak draped over his side. The splatters of blood on his armor and face are what caught your attention.

Upon seeing you, his expression slightly softened. Behind, the doors are shut. Looking up at him-you ask him what happened. “Just a little trouble.” Was all you got before he patted you on the head-heading to leave. You could only watch as he disappeared further into the distance. 

Time seemed to be passing by too quickly. Given that today is the Tournament.

Everyone was here. Commoners and nobles alike. Each and every face, including yours, is beaming. Sitting right next to Alicent, the empty seat on the other side designated for your sister who has not yet arrived. As you wait for the game to begin, you look around the royal box.

In no time at all, you’ve caught your father’s eye, tilting his head with a large smile on his face, and you eagerly return it. The eyes of Rhaenys and Corlys have been fixed on you as well. Their smiles too greet you. The same can’t be said for Alicent, who appears tense, but seeing your smile helps ease her.

Finally, the king begins talking. To which you then catch a glimpse of her. Rhaenyra. Bending down and moving quickly to her seat, yet still causing a slight distraction. Then, in his speech, your father declares that the queen’s labor has at last started. A thought that made you feel both excited and uneasy. Yet your smile never wavers.

Then, just as quickly as it started, a trumpet sound reached your ears. Signaling the matches has begun. Finding your attention solely on the scene in front of you. As the men charge at one another, their lances collide with one another’s shields.

Your heart slightly races when one of them lands on the ground, wincing at the thought of the pain that must follow, all the broken bones. In spite of this, the crowd cheers at every clash and every fall. Amidst this, Rhaenyra and Alicent are speaking to one another. More than once, the word cole can be heard. 

As if in response to the mention of his name. A knight comes into focus, and you are certain that throughout all of your lessons with the septa, you have never seen a sigil quite like that. Silently, you follow the conversation between Rhaenyra and Alicent. Throughout the entire thing, you could not take your eyes off the mystery knight who seemed to prevail over every opponent. This time it was lord Baratheon.  

When the drums are heard and the cheering gets louder. You know who will come next. Daemon. You and Rhaenyra exchange a brief look of excitement. With his lance in hand and black armor, Daemon approaches. He almost looks like a dragon. When Daemon picks an opponent. The lance points to the man wearing the Hightower sigil. Your attention turned to Otto, who was slightly shaking his head in annoyance.

You hold your breath as you tensely watch the two rush toward one another. The lance nearly knocks Daemon off his horse when it collides with his shield. However, the second time, Daemon emerged victorious. His lance moved down to the horse’s legs and sent it tumbling down, with Otto’s son being flung from the horse. His helmet knocked off right before his face collided with the ground. Along the court, you gasp in shock. Casting a quick glance at Alicent, who appears anxious at her brother’s state. 

Your uncle approaches the royal box. Rhaenyra ascends, and you follow her. “Nicely done uncle,” she muses. “Thank you princess”. His lance then gestures in Alicent’s direction, asking for her favor. 

The moment you turn to return to your seat. Otto is seen whispering something to your father, who appears to be cornered at what he just heard. Growing nervous when the king hurriedly leaves his set and follows Otto out. But when you hear another man fall off his horse, your focus is drawn back to the scene.

Then it happens. The man on the ground yelled furiously as he reached for his weapon, lunging at the other man on his horse, knocking him to the ground. The man who had just been knocked down did not have time to react before the metal slammed into his face.

You thought that Daemon’s doing to Otto’s son was the worst of today. But the scene in front of you was even more horrifying. What were once lances charging at one another are now swords clashing and fists pounding. Bloodshed after bloodshed.

Your hands clutched Rhaenyra’s without realizing, and she placed her other hand over yours. “Look away,” she tells you, and you do. Yet the metallic sounds of the swords clashing into one another are still heard. With every strike, the crowd is a mix of cheers and gasps of horror. 

It’s the match between Daemon and the mystery knight that makes you look again. Still holding hands with Rhaenyra, utterly terrified of the outcome. When Daemon was thrown off his horse, you felt like you could breathe again. Any feelings of relief, however, are dashed when Daemon cries out for his sword. As you watch them battle it out on the ground, your hold on Rhaenyra becomes tighter.

Daemon’s victory brings back the feeling of relief. His arms are open wide to the cheering crowd as he soaked in the praise. You were about to start cheering before he was abruptly knocked to the ground. A sudden rush of dread is felt-believing this may be the end. 

Until he yields. 

All three of you are heading to the rail with Rhaenyra’s hand in Alicent’s and her other hand never leaving yours. Watching as the mystery knight finally reveals his face. He is Dornish. The knight walks over to Rhaenyra-asking for her favor. Your sister throws him the flower crown and he catches it. 

When Otto entered view, the joyous moment was long gone. The lord and ladies begin to slowly stand while whispering to others nearby, and everyone follows to leave, even Leanor and Laena. You and Rhaenyra exchange a knowing look. And one of fear. She’s the one who reaches for your hand this time.

The queen is dead and the baby that followed. 

Cold winds blow harshly on your face, making you shiver. Trying your best to hold back the tears. Crying is a weakness your septa told you. You must not let others see your weakness. You stay close to Viserys, whose eyes hardly strayed from the ground. Holding hands with Rhaenyra.

Daemon comes up to you two. Your sister reluctantly releases your hand as she takes a step forward. When your sister shouts the command, you are unable to look at the burned body and inch closer to the person who is closest to you, Daemon, whose hands end up on your shoulders.

Shortly after the body was burned. You found yourself seated on the bench. Laenor and Laena come up to you. Laena sits beside you and Laenor moves to your side, each taking your hand. It was a quiet moment that meant the world to you. 

Not long after, Rhaenys comes into view with Corlys by her side. As they take you into their arms, you feel the tears you’ve been holding back for so long start to fall down your cheeks. Corlys reaches out to wipe your tears. Just as you’re about to return to your chambers, Rhaenys gives you one last piece of advice. Be strong.

Late at night in your chambers. The pillows beneath you are sodden from all the tears. Hearing the door open, you quickly close your eyes, assuming it might be your father. However, as you sense their hasty approach to your bed, and them slipping under the covers. You realize it's Rhaenyra.

Your back faces her and your hand rests on the arm that she has just wrapped around you. There was a period of silence, before the muffled sounds of crying is heard. Feeling her clutch you together, your tears start to run down your cheeks once again. Alone in the chambers and away from everyone allows the two of you to grieve your mother’s passing. 

The following day, Daemon visits you in your chambers. He was oddly surrounded by guards. "The king has given me one last chance to say goodbye." And you are left feeling hurt as he must bid farewell. 

He gives you one final embrace. Whispering so the guards won't hear him. Promising to take you with him one day. He gestures to the necklace. Daemon demands you to keep it, and you nod in response. As he leaves. Your hand that grips his slides away. At the balcony, you watch as Caraxes takes off from the king's landing. 

You hoped that it would just be one of those instances where your father would change his mind and bring him back. But Rhaenyra's visit that day persuaded you otherwise. All she said to you—apparently still in shock and trying to process what had just happened—was, "He made me heir."

Alicent is now in the chambers with you. Watching as she aids Rhaenyra in getting dressed. Placing the headpiece on her head. It was you who handed her the necklace; it feels heavy in your hands. As you place it around her neck, she waits patiently, kneeling to your level. Before she leaves, Rhaenyra gives you and Alicent one final embrace.

You are far away from everyone else-standing close to the king. As you witness, every house swore allegiance to your sister. Noticing the recognizable faces in the crowd. Before Rhaenyra turns to face the king and the rest of the court, you and she exchange a look. One that gives her the confidence to stand tall.

[jacesbeloved]

for the kingdom: part I

summary: being the youngest daughter of alicent, you hadn’t known what it was like to feel restraint until you had been betrothed to the eldest son of queen rhaenyra for a pact. for who? for the kingdom.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings/notes: eventual smut (none in this part), mild enemies/rivals to lovers, tension tension tension, arranged marriage, mentions of incest (helaena & aegon), mature themes, sort of toxic relationship i guess, more in the following parts

part: I, II, III, IV

The day that you dreaded the most eventually dawned upon you.

The grand halls were now packed with people, lords and highborn families reveling in House Targaryen's opulence. Your family is seated beside each other at the table in front, facing the guests.

Your body desperately wants to be freed from the beautified torture device called your gown. The red and green accents signify the unification of the once divided houses.

The youngest daughter of Alicent Hightower betrothed to the eldest son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

The loud drums sounded while the guests diverged, leaving a clear aisle as the grand door opened to the family of your betrothed. Rhaenyra and Daemon walked in front, while in the middle stood Jacaerys, with his siblings and distant family walking behind.

He had a welcoming look on his face, much like the looks on both of your families. His eyes never leave yours as he arrives at the front. You gracefully stood to your feet, walking over to the front of the table where Jacaerys had waited for you.

"My betrothed." He announces with pride, taking your hand and kissing it. The crowd was applauding and cheering at the sight. You two smiled at each other before turning to the crowd and proceeding back to your places, knowing full well that the smile meant anything besides happiness.

"Be welcome to your future king and queen consort, the heir, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, and the queen's youngest daughter, Princess Y/N Targaryen!"

Half an hour had passed and it had bored you significantly. Wanting nothing more than to ditch the feast and ride your dragon around Westeros and have fun. So far, you have only been concerned with putting on a pretty face for the crowd and eating your food while listening to the best wishes of your guests. There was not a word spoken to each other after the earlier event of Jace kissing your hand.

"There's nothing wrong with smiling, you know." Jacaerys whispers discreetly in your direction. You side-eye him. "And yet, there is everything wrong with this marriage."

Jace heaves a heavy sigh at your response. The two of you were betrothed out of duty. With Rhaenyra offering up his son to wed Alicent's daughter to certify the alliance between the two families and to keep the House Targaryen unified and as one, it was only in a matter of a few deliberations that Alicent agreed to the proposal.

The prince dutifully accepted his betrothal, not seeing much of it aside from it being his responsibility as the heir to the iron throne after his mother.

You, on the other hand, despised it. Growing up, you were surrounded by your family. Your mother's degrading words towards the other family, followed by your brothers' comments—Aemond, specifically— Rhaenyra's family didn't have a good image in your mind.

You were never the heir, nor were you in front of the line. You were the youngest in the family, and you expected to be their last choice.

But now here you were, every bit of freedom you once had now stripped away from you in a matter of agreements that you weren't informed of. No more sneaking out at midnight, controlling and playing with highborn children your age, irresponsible feuds with knights, drunken nights in the streets, no more fun.

Although you two appear to be happy with each other, that patience of yours is gradually fading.

Leaving your face resting on your palm as you watched blankly at the crowd, your betrothed handled the guests, wishing the both of you good wishes.

"I know you don't desire this, but remember who you are going to be." Alicent interjects, filling your cup with wine again. "You are going to be queen consort. You are, one day, going to rule the 7 kingdoms and that is not the attitude nor the face of a future queen to her subjects and husband."

You snort at your mother, finding it hypocritical coming from her. "Thank you for the encouragement, mother." You say with heavy sarcasm, taking the cup of wine in front of you and downing it. Your older brother, Aegon, smirking at the sight of you drinking the wine in one singular chug.

Jacaerys asked for your hand once more, standing over you as you heard the instruments go into the deep and traditional rhythm for dancing. The deep thunder of the instrument resonating throughout the grand hall made everyone watch you two closely.

Your little dance with the prince was far from comfortable; it was full of tension, full of strict movements, and challenging glances from you. Jacaerys was different. He had composure, disciplined movements, and the face of a future king: proud, confident, and charismatic.

"I heard you sneaked out last night, ordering your guard to not follow you." Jacaerys speaks, his eyebrows arching.

"And where would I be, dear husband?" You replied, twisting your head sweetly to smile at him. Something you always do when you need one of your suitors to do something.

He chuckles at you, the look you gave him seemingly doing nothing. "In the bars, I'd venture."

You hum, narrowing your eyes in a challenge. His answer wasn't really what you expected. "And do you believe the hearsay? That I did sneak out? That I ordered my guard to stay put?"

Jace juts his lips out a bit, analyzing your face. He then discreetly shakes his head no, so discreetly that you're sure only you could have noticed it.

"No. I choose to believe the word of my betrothed rather than a nobody's."

Your arms pulled him close, resting around his neck as you held the back of his head. His breath fans over your exposed neck.

"If it makes you anymore secure, I didn't."

The ceremony of your wedding has finished.

Both of you were officially husband and wife, future king and queen of the 7 kingdoms.

Dreading the exact moment your lips touched his. It seemed more like a peck than an actual kiss. Not until you take the matter into your own hands. Kissing the prince deeply. The two of you pursing your lips silently as you pulled away.

You have gone back to your now shared chambers, changing back into your casual dress, ridding yourself of the extravagant accessories and jewelry that they placed on you. Thinking of going back to the hall after leaving Jacaerys there.

Your eyes go over the interior of the room. The once messy and very-you chambers that you owned are now different. The bed was different, the furniture inside was different, the colors and accents were different as well. Everything was.

The air shifted from where you had stood. It's settling all the more in your head. You can never be free now.

Forever chained up by the duty you are placed into.

You clutch the necklace you received from Jacaerys before the wedding, a piece of Targaryen ancestry given to him by his mother for you, made from pure Valyrian steel.

"Is everything alright?" A soft voice speaks in the silence of the room.

You're back in your head by then, seeing your husband watching you with concern from the doorway. "Aside from our wedding, yes. Everything's fine." You nod at him.

Jacaerys felt himself grow sympathetic at your look, knowing that you probably dreaded this marriage the most.

"Y/N, I'm sorry... for, uhm, all of this. For being betrothed to you." Jacaerys begins to speak, getting a curious look from you. "It wasn't my desire to take you away from your freedom. However, it is still our duty to uphold the responsibilities bestowed upon us."

The man walks closer to you, placing his hands behind his back.

"Whatever you are feeling now, Y/N, I feel the same way. I am merely doing this-" "What am I feeling, Jace? You seem to speak blindly about feeling the same way I do." You raise your eyebrow at him in demand. "I don't know. Hate? Loathe?" Jace quietly chuckles, eyebrows furrowing the same way. "Regardless of it all, like I said, it is our duty. And I swear to do my best as the heir to the iron throne," he breathes, "and also... as your beloved."

He lowers his head at you out of courtesy, and you look at him blankly, never really one for nice things. His head slowly rose up to see you looking at him suspiciously, analyzing him. "What is it that you are asking, Jacaerys?" You ask directly.

"I am asking for us to look beyond our differences. We are already wed. There is nothing we can do to be apart from each other, no matter how much we desire to be. The best thing we can do now is... accept it. Tolerate each other."

You sighed loudly, placing your hands on either side of his chest. "It seems that you are right."

The prince was confused. It was only a few hours ago that you told him that this marriage was the most outrageous thing you had ever experienced in your entire life. Telling him that you'd rather be put back into your mother's womb than accept the marriage.

But here you are now. Could it be a change of heart like Jacaerys had hoped for?

"Instead of loathing you, I should be thankful to be betrothed to you. It's not every day that you get betrothed to a... strong," you patted his chest, his body tensing as his jaw clenched, keeping a straight face and calm composure.

"Handsome, and respectful man." You finish with a mocking grin on your face. Waiting for the man in front of you to burst at the sensitive subject.

He should have known that there truly wasn't anything that you accepted in the whole agreement. You are too far down in the rabbit hole of hate to ever see him differently. even if only as a companion and not as a lover.

"Strong enough to protect me..." He watches you through the mirror as you walk around him, letting your hand glide across the expanse of his chest.

"Your brothers have influenced you, I see." He laughs dryly. The prince walks away from you with a vague smirk. He faced you as he sat on one of the large plush chairs near the bookshelves, undoing the laces of his shoes as he started to get ready for bed.

"Don't expect a reaction from me anytime soon, princess. I can assure you, I've already given enough reaction to your brothers. I pretty much do not care and you should too, Y/N."

You look at him dumbfounded, him merely brushing you off like you weren't taunting him since the second he entered your shared chambers. He kept his eyes focused on unlacing his shoes, not noticing that you were in front of him once more.

He hums at you, awaiting your word as you stand in front of him silently. "Is that so? Then, you wouldn't care even if I called you a bas..." You let the words trail off at the end, tilting your head to the side. Wanting to push your husband's buttons.

Jacaerys looks at you with an indescribable glint in his eyes, waiting for you to finish the word. He rises to his feet as he takes a step forward, deep brown eyes staring down figure as he urges you to finish your sentence.

"Go on."

You take a step towards him as well, not backing down from the prince. Tilting your head at him, the sides of your lips slowly lift.

The prince waited for the word he had expected to come out of you. Your lips were already shaped to whisper the word.

The air became even more tense with the two of you being an inch away from one another. His breath hit your face the same way yours hit his. Both of you were standing your grounds, your eyes staring at him in amusement.

When you remain silent, he scoffs quietly before walking past you. He undoes the ties and buttons of his top before changing into a more comfortable top, then changes into his pajamas, all the while you had your eyes glued on his movements.

You watch the tall man in fascination, seeing him tidy up the cushions on the massive bed as he finishes changing, facing you with cautiousness. His hands were clasped in front of him.

"Do you wish to go to bed?" His voice echoes loudly throughout the room, his arm extending towards the bed.

You start pulling at the strings of your gown, and Jacaerys looking in the opposite direction, much like a young boy's reaction to someone undressing in front of him. He stood awkwardly, face tout and blank.

You scoff loudly at him, "We're married, Jacaerys. Let's get rid of the malice already." You pull off the dress and put on a night gown, thin and short enough to go just a few inches past your knee. You'd soon be the one running your hand all over my body, ravishing and touching it however you pleased. Full of want and desire."

Jacaerys clenches his jaw once more. His feet were firmly planted on the soft carpeted floor as he waited for you to finish changing.

"You see, women are expected to preserve their maidenheads for their betrothed. To keep themselves pure and clean for their husband." You walk over to the prince, crossing your arms on your chest as you stand in front of him once more.

"What would you think if your wife's maidenhead had already been taken, dear husband?"

He takes a second to watch over your face, his features firm and blank again just like earlier.

"A maidenhead does not make a woman any less of one. Whether or not you still have your maidenhead does not make you any less pure, nor does it make you dirty. It is your choice to lose it to whoever you want to."

Your lips stretch downwards into a subtle smile, his eyes slightly narrowing at your expression. You swallowed the lump in your throat before climbing onto the bed and laying on one side.

Jace finally gets to breathe properly after that, exhaling deeply as he joins you in bed. Both of you are lying straight up awkwardly, a clear boundary between the two of you.

"Have you ever bedded a woman, Jacaerys?" The mockery in your tone made him roll his eyes. He pursed his lips in silence as he ignored you.

"Since we are to be together for as long as time permits us, I believe it is only appropriate for me to know about my partner's experience." You sat up on the bed to grin at him, provocatively placing your hand on top of his strong chest. Loving the way his face hardened and reddened at the topic.

He continues to ignore you, his mouth sealed shut while staring at the ceiling.

"Come on, there's nothing to be-"

"Y/N." Jacaerys cuts you off sternly, glaring at your teasing look. "If my experience is such a dire thing for you to know, I can let you experience me right now if it pleases you."

You laughed at the annoyed look on his face, the way this conversation was sensitive for him made you amused.

"Trust me, Jace. If I wanted to experience you, we wouldn't be fully dressed right now, sitting on our bed, a meter apart."

Your sarcastic giggles filled his ears, letting your body fall back on the soft cushion as the two of you remained separated by the invisible barrier.

"Good night." He sighs.

"Have you two done it?" Aegon asks you as soon as you enter the library. He and Aemond were sitting opposite each other while Helaena sat on the couch not far from them, quietly sewing an image of a bug.

"What do you mean 'it'?" You glare at him, sitting far away from the older sibling.

His eyes widen while shrugging plainly, his arms moving in front of him as if holding a woman's waist from behind before he started thrusting into the air. Laughter came out of his mouth while you and Aemond looked at him with an "I am disgusted" look. Your forehead creased in disgust, throwing one of Aemond's books at the older man, eliciting a groan from him and a tired sigh from Aemond.

"Don't ever do that again. I don't want a visual of what our sister has to suffer each night." You spoke fluidly, desperately trying to erase the past ten seconds out of your memory.

"Suffer!?" Aegon exclaims. "The only one suffering out of all of us is you. Having wed that unexperienced bastard of an heir, I doubt he could please you even with all of his efforts." He spat, Helaena warning him about his words. The four of you share a knowing glance at one another, letting the library fall silent because of Aegon's continuous badmouthing of the Queen's sons.

"But who cares, right? Future queen of the seven kingdoms," Aegon spits, taunting you. The title at the end sounds condescending rather than encouraging.

"You do know that I can order the guards to cut off your tongue, right?" You titter back, eyes flickering at him in challenge. He snorts at that before letting the subject go.

The time in the library was cut short when a familiar figure walked in. The only odd one out in the library amidst you four. Your brothers glaring at his every step while Helaena kept herself busy. Not bothering to indulge herself in the internal wars between your husband and your brothers.

Aemond sneaked a glance at you, the sides of his lips rising as he eyed the younger man.

"Brother." He spoke, his voice full of mockery.

Jace maintains his blank expression, nodding subtly in recognition. He kept his hands behind his back as he walked over to you, your brothers' stare following him.

"May I excuse my wife for a moment, brothers?"

The two men arched their eyebrows at you, and you did the same as you smirked subtly at them. "She's all yours," upon Aegon's response, you rose up to stand in front of your husband. Hearing Aegon mutter another taunt under his breath before chuckling, "brother."

Jace's jaw clenched at the mocking of his brother-in-law, extending his arm out for you to hold as he led you out, ignoring the useless remarks of your brothers.

"Where are we going?" You ask. Attitude laced your tone as you kept a poker face.

The man holding your hand leads you out to the courtyard, a single horse appearing into view, making you glare at him. Awaiting his response.

"We're going to see the 7 Kingdoms. Mother had told us to bond." Jace speaks with a frown. His hands pulling at the saddle on the horse while you cross your arms, not daring to move from your position.

"Bond? With you? I'd rather stay here." You started walking back to the halls before Jace spoke again.

"It's an order from the queen." His firm face and clenched jaw told you that he hated this just as much as you did.

You glare at him furiously, shaking your head in defiance. Telling him that you'd rather feed yourself to your dragon than ride with him on a single horse around Westeros. You could be training, or resting in the godswood, or better, toying with the men around the Red Keep. Anything is much more entertaining than going around the kingdom with him.

"Very well," he responds casually. "We'll ride our dragons then."

[doxypsychlean]

is there a part 2 to Strong maybe bit of smut

Strong pt.2

Aegon ii Targaryen x Strong!Reader

Previous chapter: Strong pt.1

Warnings: Targcest, Explicit language, NSFW content, Blood, Aegon beats up Aemond(not that bad, I swear)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Additional info: Instead of Rhaenyra escorting the Strong fellas back to Dragonstone, they all stay in the Red Keep(just imagine it for a sec that Alicent begged her ass off and got Rhaenyra to stay, cs she wants to spend more time w her(this is my fkn world and in it, these two make up idc)

A/N: Ooop, here it fkn issss!!! Ngl, I was cackling like a middleschooler while writing the spicy part of this one. Welp... Cheers, you horny bastards!!!

P.S. I fkn lied, this is nowhere near close to the req. Sorry, dear Anon.

A choked up sob came out of the Prince's mouth as he rubbed the linen washcloth over the bitemarks on his neck. Tears welled up in his eyes, but Aegon was quick to blink them away, before the woman could see.

She was sat across him, on the edge of the bed, watching him as Aegon dabbed away the blood. She was already dressed, in a long, bell-sleeved green gown that showed off every curve of hers. Aegon sneaked a glance at her deep neckline, then quickly averted his eyes.

The woman noticed it immediately, eyes never leaving his face. She ran a soft hand over her shoulder and pushed her long, dark hair out of the way, so it could trail down her back.

"Our mothers, along with your sister, Baela and Rhaena are in the gardens." She said, voice gone back to its usual cushiness. "They invited me to join them. I trust you will behave?"

The silver haired man flinched at her question. His hands dropped down to his lap, pulling at the washcloth as his eyes looked down at the dirty sheets.

Behave. Behave. Behave.

"Love?" Her eyes narrowed, word coming out rough and low.

Aegon flinched again. He looked up at her, head shaking up and down violently. She let out an amused hum, then got up on her feet.

"Good." She was now standing next to him, one hand reaching up to his face. She took in the angry bruise she'd awarded him with the night before. Then the faint imprints of her hand that covered his face, neck and chest. The rest staying hidden from her eyes by the sheet Aegon had covered his lower half with. "You're so good."

Aegon whined, the pathetic sound reverberating in his head. Before he had time to curse himself out for it, her fingers hooked under his chin. He turned to face her, hands clutching and pulling at the washcloth.

"My brothers are with Aemond and Ser Criston, in the training grounds." She said, thumb running over his bottom lip. "You'll join them."

It wasn't a question, but an order. One he wasn't brave enough to not follow. Not after the things his sweet,sweet wife had done to him throughout the previous night.

"That's it." The woman laughed out as she bent forward, lips meeting with those of Aegon. "I must go, my love. Get ready, then head down. You'll find clothes on the chair over there."

His pale eyes shot open, following to where her hand was pointing at. He nodded once more, head falling down after. The Prince put the washcloth on the nightstand as he got up.

Although he was a few good inches taller than her, Aegon felt incredibly small. Weak. Worthless. Undeserving.

He hissed as her hands wrapped around his wrists, successfully getting her to pull away. For a bit. Then she grabbed him again, this time much more gently, and brought them up so she could take a closer look.

The porcelain skin was now red and swollen. The ropes had left behind thin, angry traces where they'd cut in, marring the blank canvas Aegon was.

"I am sorry, my dragon." She whispered as she peppered his inner wrists with soft, apologetic kisses.

"It's fine." The Prince finally spoke out, his voice hoarse and trembling. He was smiling down at her, trying to bite back another hiss. "I...enjoyed it."

The brunette looked up at him, plump lips meeting with the red skin for the last time before she let go. Her arms wrapped around his neck, body pressing close to his.

Aegon rubbed his bruised cheek against hers, melting in her hands.

"My dragon..." She trailed off, pulling him impossibly close to herself. "I love you."

Aegon whined again, the tears now falling freely from his eyes. His hands reached for her hips, nails digging into the green silk of the gown that covered them.

"Say it again..." He was falling apart, body shaking with the intensity of the sobs that left his mouth. "Please."

The woman kept quiet. The fingers that were rubbing small circles on the back of his head, stopped moving.

"Please." Aegon needed to hear it. Especially after the cruel words she'd punished him with the night before. "Tell me you love me. Please."

Love me. Love me. Love me.

But she didn't say it. Instead, she unwrapped her arms from around him. The Prince almost fell to his knees at the loss of contact.

"Get dressed." She turned around, walking towards the doors of their chambers.

Aegon became painfully aware of the pitiful state he was in- naked, crying and begging, covered in endless amount of bruises, scratches and marks. He tried to put himself back together, to wipe the broken expression off his face. But there was no point.

In just a few hours, she'd completely destroyed whatever it was, that was left of the Prince. He had no ground to stand on. Not anymore. He could yell in her face, break her to pieces, even kill her. But she'd die, knowing she won. Knowing that she'd broken him in, taken him down to being this sad, miserable excuse of a person.

"I love you." Her voice reached Aegon's ears. "I truly do."

Then she was gone.

────────────

"What happened to you?" Aemond asked as his brother approached him. He lowered his sword, signaling to Criston he'd take a break.

The knight offered a small nod, then turned his attention to the younger boys who were standing off to the side.

"Got into some trouble last night?" The one-eyed prince teased.

Aegon's head shot up, eyes staring up at his younger brother in shock. How did he find out, he heard his trembling voice inside his head. His legs almost gave out at the thought of Aemond knowing what she'd done to him. His brother already looked down on him, what must he be thinking now, that he knew his big brother was used like a whore.

"Told you that you shouldn't be going out into the city alone..." Prince Aemond said, hand reaching for Aegon's shoulder.

Aegon bit down a groan as his brother's hand came down on one of the bitemarks. He shook his head, his usual smug grin coming back on his face to cover the pain.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it." A relieved breath escaped through Aegon's words. Fortunately, Aemond didn't notice it.

The long-haired man lowered his hand, eyeing Aegon up and down suspiciously. There was nothing out of the ordinary. His brother looked a bit tired, a bit disheveled. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

He looked away for a second, then his eye came back to Aegon.

"What in the Seven Hells are you wearing?"

Aegon was sporting a high-collared black doublet, black pants and leather boots. That's not what shocked Aemond. It was the red shirt that showed underneath the doublet. The red cord it was embroidered with. The three-headed dragon pin on his chest.

Then his eye trained on Aegon's hands. The ridiculously large gold ring was resting on his little finger of his right hand. On his left thumb, however, was a simple steel band ring. One that had the sigil of House Strong on it.

Aegon turned red as he noticed the way his brother was inspecting him.

"Leave it be." He whispered, eyes going back to their nephews, who were now swinging at Ser Criston. "It doesn't concern you."

Aemond wrapped one gand around the back of Aegon's neck, eliciting a pained growl from his brother.

"You didn't get that nasty bruise out in the streets, did you?" Aemond teased, eye darting to his brother now and then. "No shame, brother. I honestly expected for your Strong lady to put you in your place way sooner."

Aegon didn't dare say a word. He stood there, allowing his baby brother to make his cruel joke.

"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond..." Criston's voice rang out. "Would you join us? We have to even the odds."

Aemond turned nodded, then took a step forward. He turned suddenly, spinning on one heel.

"Would anyone blame me if that little bastard lost an eye whilst sparring?" He said with that smirk of his. "Do you think your Strong lady will come after me, do to me what she did to you?"

And there it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. Aegon's back.

He lunged at his brother, knocking him to the ground. With his newfound strength, it only took a few blows to the face for Aemond to pass out, his head bouncing up and down with every hit.

Ser Criston, Luke and Jace reached them in no time. They tried to pull Aegon off, but the Prince simply refused to let go. The rage had blinded him, all he could see was his brother's bloodied face.

But it wasn't the cruel jokes. Nor was it Aemond threatening to take their nephew's eye out. It was him, suggesting that the Princess would put her hands on Aemond the way she'd done to Aegon.

That was for him. The pain, the humiliation,the punishment. All his. No one else's. His alone.

"Aegon!"

And just like that, Prince Aegon let go. He allowed for Criston to pull him to his feet and away from Aemond.

All his. No one else's. His alone.

He shook off Cole's hands, then turned to stare at her. Waiting. For her to storm over to him, and show everyone where his place was. To show to his mother, his sisters, his cousins, his nephews.

But nothing came. She stood there, at the top of the steps, staring down at him. One hand extended out towards Aegon. Drawing him, guiding him.

He didn't notice how Alicent ran past him, nor did he see how she dropped to her knees, next to Aemond's unconscious body. He didn't notice the scared and confused looks on his nephews faces or the way his half-sister, Rhaenyra, looked from her daughter to him with a smug grin.

All he could see was her.

Aegon followed the woman into the Red Keep and up the steps, towards their chambers.

────────────

"Why?" She asked, flopping down on the bed.

He didn't respond. Aegon was too busy trying to undo the clasps of his doublet to notice she'd said something.

"Come here..." She murmured, hand reaching out for him just like it had out there.

He heard her this time. Without wasting any time he strode over, only stopping when he had to look down to get a good look of her face.

They stood there like that for a bit, neither saying a word.

Then she spread her legs slowly, making room for him.

"Closer, I can't reach you."

The Prince took another step forward, now standing between her legs.

"I asked you a question." She said softly, fingers quickly undoing the clasps, then the buttons of his shirt. "Why did you do it?"

"He threatened to take your brother's eye out."

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Aegon." Her whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. There was no gentleness to her anymore. She tugged at the strings of his breeches, untying them with one swift move. "So why? I want the truth."

Aegon Targaryen had never shied away from a woman's touch the way he did when his wife's fingers ran down his happy trail. He sucked in a breath.

"He..." The Prince turned to look out the opened windows.

"What did he do?" She looked up at him, two fingers hooking at the front of his pants and tugging down.

"He asked if you'd do what you did to me, if he were to take his eye out." Aegon admitted, shaking his clothes of his body.

"And that made you knock Aemond out cold because..." The woman almost laughed at her own words. Aegon got him good, she couldn't deny it.

She watched as his breeches fell to the ground, freeing Aegon from the tight grasp they had on him. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched him, his already hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen.

Aegon looked away again, too ashamed of how much effect she had on him.

Two hungry eyes were staring down at the head of his cock, deep shade of pink and already leaking.

"Because...?" She teased, hand wrapping around him.

Aegon let out a deep moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His pale face was turning red, making the purple bruise on his cheek stand out even more.

He hissed as she dragged her hand up and down the length of his cock at a painfully slow pace. The soreness of the night before still lingered, making every inch of his body scream in agony. Still, he found himself coming to love the feeling. The pain. The humiliation. The punishment.

"Because I don't want you to touch anyone else the..." His breath hitched as the brunette bent down a bit and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.

She felt him twitch slightly, making her let out an amused huff. A shiver ran down Aegon's back when he felt her warm breath hit him. His hand came to rest at the back of her head, gently massaging the skin underneath his fingers.

The sensation of her wet tongue dissappeared once she reached the tip, leaving the man to thrust his hips into the air. Then her full lips wrapped around the head, her tongue circling around it. She let out a low hum, the sound reverberating throughout his whole body.

"I don't want you to do what you did to me last night to anyone else!" He cried out, almost toppling over at the feeling of her tongue rubbing over the slit of his cock. "Just me..."

Her lips left him with a loud pop, the woman laughing softly at it. She wiped away the mixture of precum and saliva from her lips as she looked up at him.

"Just you, my dragon." She said as her hands wrapped around his wrists gently, guiding them towards her shoulders. "Help me get it off."

Aegon looked at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. His confusion didn't prevent him from sliding down the garment past her shoulders.

"You're not angry at me?" He asked.

"Quite the opposite..." The brunette said as she got up, leaving barely any space between their faces. "I'm proud of you, my brave dragon."

Another whine escaped Aegon as he slid his hands down her body, ridding her of her green gown. He pulled her close, their chest pressing against together.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck, planting wet, needy kisses on the skin there. Aegon lifted her up, the woman wrapping her legs around his waist quickly. He climbed on the bed while still holding her.

"I'm so sorry..." He said as he pulled away to look at her. "About yesterday. I didn't mean it, I just wanted to get a reaction from..."

She cut him short, pushing him off of her and then climbing on top of Aegon. On hand reached up to cover his mouth, the other going to his throat.

"I know." The Princess said, grinding down on him.

Aegon moaned from behind her hand, thrusting up. The grip she had on his throat got stronger. He stilled, his breathing did too.

The hand on his face turned, until her thumb was pressing down on his lips. He opened his mouth, tongue swirling around the single digit, cheeks hollowing as he sucked in.

"So good..." She whispered, her other hand sliding down his body and dissappearing between them. "So fucking good. For me."

Aegon's eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, head shaking up and down with a choked moan.

"So brave..." The woman raised up slightly as she guided his cock to her, rubbing it over her slick cunt. "My brave dragon."

He bit down on her thumb as the tip of his cock entered her. The woman hissed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she hooked her other fingers under his chin, then shook slowly.

"Try not to bite it off or I'll have to return the favor." She joked, eyes darting from him to where their bodies met.

Both let out a chuckle, the sound soon getting replaced by Aegon's whines.

"Move." He unwrapped his lips from around her thumb, teeth still holding it in place. "Please."

"As my Prince commands..." Her breath hitched as she slammed down on him.

Her free hand trailed back up and then down again, nails digging in. Soon his porcelain skin turned to an angry shade of red, blood prickling.

Aegon couldn't hold back anymore. His hips snapped up, meeting with hers. Her palm collided with his face. He bit down on the digit in his mouth again with another hard thrust.

Another slap. His cheek was staring to sting. Then he did it again.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" She hissed out as she bounced up and down.

Aegon hummed, tongue rubbing against the pad of her thumb.

She pulled her hand away from his face, his teeth dragging over.

"I want to hear you." She said as she dropped down to his chest, legs giving out. "Say it."

Aegon mumbled a few incoherent sentences before wrapping his arms around her waist tight. He set up a painfully fast speed, skin hitting skin as he chased his own high.

Her mind went blank at the first thrust, hands pushing up as she tried to pull away from his grasp. She almost slipped away, but Aegon was quick to follow her. His head dipped down, lips wrapping around one of her nipples. He bit down and then sucked in, just as she'd done to him the night before.

A hiss came from the woman. One of her hands sneaked over his shoulder, then pulled his head back by his hair.

A thin string of saliva trailed from his mouth and down to her bruised nipple. He offered a toothy, devilish grin before licking his lips clean.

"I'm close." She stuttered, eyes shutting tight.

Aegon laughed out as his bruised cheek came to rest on her chest, his eyes closing. He kept the same pace, the sweet aching in his hips coming once more.

"Princess, the feast..." The doors flew open, one of her maids barging in. "Oh, Gods!"

The girl left just as quickly, blush creeping up on her face.

"Don't stop!" She moaned out as Aegon's thrust stuttered. "Don't!"

He laughed again, hips snapping. Then he stopped completely.

"It would seem I still don't know my place, wife." He craned his neck up as his mouth left behind a hot, blazing trail from her collarbones to her jaw.

"You'll learn..." The woman looked down at him, hand going back to wrap around his throat. "...husband."

[witchthewriter]

𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒆, 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔!

Mmm. 8 episodes huh? You really had filler episodes in there too, huh. I cannot with this. They either give us a whole feast or crumbs.

I saw only 3 leaks on Tik Tok, and watched the trailer for the last episode... AND THAT'S BASICALLY THE NEXT EPISODE.

We don't get a Rhaenyra & Alicent kiss even though THEY ARE RIGHT IN EACH OTHERS' FACES. Yes, Alicent did travel to Dragonstone just like Rhaenyra did for her. But Rhaenyra says it. is. too. late.

Alicent understands. She wants to take Helaena, Jahaera and even offers Rhaenyra to come with them. But GIRL!

Ulf is being a grade A annoyance. He's letting it go to his head. And that is exactly what everyone DIDN'T want to happen. He even sits in Rhaenyra's seat with his feet on the table. I honestly would have cut him right then and there. Jace handled it well, or as well as he could. But Ulf is that character who keeps on pushing the boundaries. Just pushing and pushing until you react and act surprised.

Daemon sees and understands The Prophecy - seeing Dany, Drogon, Rhaegal & Viserion. He also sees the White Walkers and ultimately, he sees Rhaenyra on the Iron Throne - finally understanding that she is the best choice for the realm.

Aemond can get the hell away from my girl Helaena. He wants this little angel to FIGHT? The one who looks at bugs and can see the future? Oh YEAH GREAT AEMOND. THIS WOULDN'T OF HAPPENED IF YOU DIDN'T KILL LUKE!

Also Tyland did some stuff - he's so boring to me I really don't care. I know he's just going to boast about it in years to come about how great he is and blah blah blah

And then at the end they just showed snippets of where everyone was at. Otto in a cell, Rhaena seeing Sheepstealer, the armies coming together, the grey beards (starks) marching, and then that was that!

Poor finale, poor season. I just cannot believe they chose to do eight episodes and barely even enlongated them.

My overall take:

LEAVE THE DRAGONS ALONE!

[sapphire-writes]

Choice ~ Aemond x Targaryen!Reader

request: The reader is daughter of Daemon and Laena and when her grandmother Rhaenys interrupts Aegon's coronation and it seems like she wants to burn The Greens alive it's her who jumps in front of Meleys not Alicent, because she loves Aemond? And she obviously chooses The Greens over her own family? 😊🐲 ~ @eddiemadmunson note: I so enjoyed writing this, literally giggled & kicked my feet when I saw you requested, I love your work!! thank you so much for your kind words, I hope you enjoy friend 💚 warnings: spicy themes, nothing explicit word count 1.4k masterlist

The dragon must always have three heads. 

You supposed the gods must believe that as well, as the Stranger claimed your mother’s life and that of your youngest sibling. Baela, Rhaena, and yourself. Those would be the only children spawned from the union of Laena Velaryon and Daemon Targaryen. 

Your father Daemon had held you and your sisters as you wept into his chest, guttural sobs filling the early morning sky. You had just woken from sleep to the sound of silence. 

Vhagar lamented loudly on the journey to Driftmark. 

Your grandmother Rhaenys held you tightly to her side as you laid your mother to rest in the sea. 

“Let me stay with you,” you had begged, clinging to her skirts. She will take Baela but not me, where is the fairness in that? 

“Who shall keep your father company?” she had argued, stroking the tears from your cheeks. 

The dragon must always have three heads. 

That is what your stepmother said when she betrothed your elder sisters Baela and Rhaena to her sons Jacaerys and Lucerys. 

“And you shall marry Joffrey, when he comes of age,” Rhaenyra had told you, stroking the hair on your head, and smiling fondly.

You remembered looking at the small babe who had yet to toddle. You would be much older than him when you married, well past the years of your maidenhood. You could not help but feel bitter, as your elder sisters rejoiced in their matches to the handsome Velaryons. 

Your father wanted little to do with you or Rhaena, not out of anger but out of grief. He saw your mother’s face in yours with every breath you took, every word you spoke. 

You left for the Red Keep when you first bled. You remembered walking into Rhaenyra’s room with bloodied sheets and a trembling upper lip. 

“You are a woman now,” she had crooned, as tears filled your eyes, “you shall be brave, yes?”

Rhaenrya hoped your presence would placate Queen Alicent. Rhaena and you were very much alike, calm and collected, a juxtaposition to Alicent's sons. It was easy enough to live at court. You befriended your cousin Helaena rather easily, spending the majority of days in her company. 

You enjoyed Aegon’s presence as well, he was fond of card games and wine and easy to trick when he had a bit too much to drink. You’d swindled him out of several gold dragons. Aegon was good for a laugh and did not mind you trailing along when he visited the taverns of King’s Landing for dancing and spirits. Only when he visited the brothels of Silk Street did he demand you stay behind.

It was Aemond’s company that pleased you the most. You spent endless hours with him cooped up in the library, legs sprawled across his lap as you both read. You enjoyed watching him in the training yard as well, your cheers were always the loudest when he bested Ser Criston. 

It was hard to deny your attraction for the one-eyed prince, and his affections for you were apparent as well. He had heard you speak of missing Vhagar, and the days you joined your mother on dragonback. Ever since, Aemond would take you to the skies daily, reveling in laughter that spilled from your lips. 

The first time he ever kissed you was on dragonback. 

You knew you should not, that it was a disservice to your betrothed. But you could not stop the feelings in your heart, the blush that crept to your cheeks every time Aemond entered a room. How you shared this secret between you, telling no one not even Rhaena. Aemond would walk by you, letting his long fingers stretch to caress yours before continuing by.

The thrill was erotic and addicting. You gifted him your maidenhead; if he could not have your hand he would have that. You soon had him in every corner of the castle.

“I am yours,” you told him, threading your fingers through his silver hair, “and you are mine.”

Your appetite for him was insatiable, no matter how many times you had him it was never enough. You felt as though your very soul was desperate to tangle itself with his. 

Tensions rise when your family arrives from Dragonstone, as the succession of Driftmark is challenged. Dinner is a battlefield and you play peacekeeper between both sides of your family.

“Y/N, come,” your father Daemon calls, staring down Aemond as he does so. 

You hesitate a moment between the two Targaryen men. 

Helplessly, you move to that side of the room, hearing Aemond grunt before leaving. Your father loops an arm around your shoulders, pressing a sweet kiss into your hair. 

The following week is chaotic.

You awake to a locked door, and to the news, the King has passed. You wait in agony, clawing at the door, and attempting more than once to lower yourself from your balcony onto the cobblestone path below.

Aemond eventually comes for you, to escort you to the coronation.

“What of my grandmother?” you inquire.

“She is to remain here, for safeguarding,” he tells you and you stop in your tracks. 

“As a prisoner, you mean,” you accuse and Aemond takes your hands in his. 

“She is no prisoner, I assure you, my love,” he says, staring deeply into your eyes. 

The coronation is a somber affair, Aegon lowers his head as though the crown is an executioner’s block. You stand off to the side, keeping your eyes on your prince. You know this is wrong in your bones. Rhaenyra was the heir, and she is being betrayed. 

The dragonpit implodes, rocks and debris flying everywhere, dust appearing as though the smoke. The sound of panicked screams fills the air along with the call of a dragon. A call you have known all your life. 

Lifting your head, you watch as Meleys appears, red like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Your grandmother rests on her back, a look of calm fury on her face. She always had that look about her, like the sky before a storm. 

Meleys steps forward, crimson head rearing with vengeance. She opens her mouth, letting loose a terrifying wail. Aegon’s eyes are wide, tears beginning to stream down his face. Aemond has stepped in front of Helaena, in a protective stance. Alicent stands frozen, eyes wide with terror. 

No. 

No this cannot be happening. 

Meleys continues to creep forward and you watch your grandmother’s lip curl, as though readying to speak the word that will scorch the green side of the family tree. This has to be done. In order for Rhaenyra to come into power, her siblings cannot live. This has to be done.

You say this over and over to yourself, but it is as though your heart and body have stopped listening. 

This is a duty, this has to be done.

Your feet propel you forward. 

This is necessary for Rhaenyra’s reign. 

You step in front of Aegon. 

He cannot be allowed to live. 

Meleys face is inches from your own, she looks at you as though she recognizes you. Your grandmother’s expression is one of grief and rage. You hold your hands out to her, a prayer, a plea. Meleys screams, the smell of burnt flesh and dragonfire wafting over you. The sound of her wail pierces your heart, breaking it. You close your eyes prepared for the agonizing feeling of dragonflame.

It does not come. 

You open your eyes and stare back into your grandmother’s, watching as the tears stream down her cheeks. You could have joined her, ran forward, and climbed on Meleys back. But you stay put in front of Aegon. Blocking him, protecting them. 

Rhaenys’ expression says it all.

You have chosen your side. 

As she flees the dragonpit you feel the warmth of Aemond’s hand against your own. You lean back into him, and he stays standing. The steadying force that holds you to the earth. 

You watch the red wings disappear over the horizon, as though she is the sun bidding the world goodnight.

Aemond takes your hand, you feel his fingers interlace with yours. Aegon, who still stands behind your protective stance lowers his forehead to your back in relief. You can feel the weight of the conqueror's crown on your back. 

You turn your head towards Aemond, his violet eye is wide.

You have chosen your side.

[writingsofwesteros]

I’m asking this because we really need more deamon x alicent content.

What about when viserys dies, daemon and Alicent get married ? So, the king is dead, rhaenyra is mad because deep inside she knows about her uncle and Alicent, so she tries to star a war. Alicent doesn’t care about aegon stealing rhaenyra’s throne, she knows she is the first born so she is really chill about the whole situation, but rhaenyra wants daemon, and daemon in absolutely in love with Alicent and wants her. So rhaenyra tries to send her away and when Ali refuses, she tries to kill her using syrax, but caraxes attacks Syrax because he knows daemon care deeply for her, and everyone is super shocked. And at this point, everyone kind of understand what is going on and maybe they also imagine that aemond and (name of the youngest Ali’s child that I don’t remember at the moment lol) are in fact daemon’s children, because he seems to hate the world but he has always been so good with them. At the end, they get married and she starts to wear red again. I hope you like this and you will write it, thank u and sorry if this is not too clear, I’m not a native speaker ❤️❤️❤️

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

“Is it not too early?” Alicent whispered as the cold breeze moved through the room. Her delicate hand reached for Daemon’s as she played with them. An act that always gave her comfort and one that had been so far out of her reach for so long now. Daemon only hummed; resting his head on her shoulder now.

“I doubt it will come as a shock to anyone.” The rogue Prince whispered into her ear. It was true; they both knew the rumours that swirled around them both. This did little to calm Alicent’s nerves as she ducked her head. Those thick, dark locks of hers hiding her from view for a moment as she gave herself time to calm down.

It seemed their moment of peace was not to be as the little sounds of feet running towards them had their attention. “Mama…” The sweet voice of her youngest came over them as Alicent instantly stepped away; still not comfortable with an audience. “Oh my sweet one.” She whispered to him; her arms opening for her son.

He burrowed into the skirts of her dress; becoming shy at the sight of his unclefather. Daemon only smiled softly; his lips curling for a moment. Still, the tension was still in the room no matter how much Alicent tried to hide it. Gently, she placed Daeron on her hip. His hands grabbed at her dress as she did before burrowing into her neck.

Alicent softly stroked his back before Daemon ruffled the bright blonde locks and caused childish giggles to escape him. “We should get the children to bed.” She whispered and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her son’s head. Daemon fought to hide his reaction; he had so desperately wanted to do these domestic tasks.

“Daemon has the best of stories.” Alicent whispered to Daeron, placing another soft kiss to the top of his head. Her son’s eyes widened as he locked onto his unclefather. “Shall I tell you of the one where this dragon rescued a Lady?” Daemon hummed. Daeron only nodded eagerly even as he hid into Alicent some more.

“I shall see to the others.” Alicent gently whispered out; hoping Daeron would not hear as her lover nodded over the child’s head. She could not help but look over her shoulder once more before slipping from the room. The sound of her heels echoed in the halls as Daemon’s soft voice began his story.

~

Alicent should have known it was too good to be true. There was seemingly never a moment she could have peace, she thought to herself. She hated the fear slowly moving through her body as she watched Syrax move. “Rhaenyra….” The name she once held so dear fell from her lips as she fought against the fear some more.

“You have taken everything!” The snarl was not pleasant and Alicent would have praised herself for not flinching if the moment was not so dire. “Rhaenyra…calm down, please…” Alicent gently began to whisper out. The dragon beside her was only growing more erratic as Syrax began to growl out; matching her rider’s emotions.

“There is no challenge to your throne.” Alicent tried to make Rhaenyra listen as her own mind moved towards her eldest son. The fear for him that had forever been installed was only growing by the second. Clasping her hands together; Alicent began to pick at her nails once more. An act Rhaenyra used to protect her from and now was seemingly always the cause.

“There is! You took everything from me.” Rhaenyra repeated again; only becoming more and more erratic. Alicent could hear her heart pounding in her ears. It seemed there was no seeing sense from the Princess now..if ever there was. “You have ruined everything, you slut.” The words continued to fall from her once close friend with venom.

Alicent hardly saw the next moment coming as the dragon pounced. A sharp gasp escaped her as her delicate hand moved to her stomach; the non-existent bump only known to her. Thankfully, it seemed Rhaenyra’s attention was elsewhere. A screech and the familiar whistle of the red dragon of her lover echoed around.

Soon the familiar arms of Daemon were wrapped around her; his scent washing over her body as she finally calmed. His hands gently cupped your face and those big eyes of Alicent’s locked onto him as they filled with worry. Her head quickly moved to the side as she flinched. The two dragons twist around each other; biting and growling.

“Daemon…” Alicent softly whimpered out; fearful for Daemon and his dragon as she noticed the rage burning inside Rhaenyra’s bright eyes. Still, Daemon was as ever prepared; his hand was already near dark sister. Daemon was always itching for a fight but Alicent never once believed it would be against Rhaenyra.

“We should go…” Alicent hummed; gently taking his hand in hers as she played with his fingers. The fighting dragons were slowly easing away with the more wounded Syrax nearly cowering. Caraxes bumped into Alicent’s shoulder and caused her to gasp aloud. The fear of the dragons still running deep inside her.

Daemon could hardly answer before his hand was wrapped around Rhaenyra’s neck and their eyes locked. “I do not want to see you again. Do not come back.” The rest of the threat was left unspoken but Alicent knew if he was to see Rhaenyra again..it would not end well. It seemed the Princess knew this as well.

The silence seemingly followed them as they watched Rhaenyra leave. Still, Alicent could feel the fear as her hand settled on her stomach. Daemon’s own resting on top of hers; his head soon resting on hers as well. “We should get married now.” He whispered into her ear; stroking those thick locks of hers as he kept her impossibly close.

“Daemon…” Alicent shook her head; she couldn’t believe he was still thinking about this. His eyes softened as he gently cupped her face; thumb brushing over her bottom lip before he leaned in. those big eyes of hers locked onto him before they began to flutter. Soft whimpers escaped her as she melted against him.

She could hear his steady heart beat; so much calmer than her own as she rested her head on his chest. “We can be a family.” The rogue Prince hummed the words they had both so desperately wanted to hear over the many years. “I want you to be my wife.” Daemon continued as his hand slowly stroked her sides again and again.

All Alicent could do was melt for him some more. She leaned in and passionately deepened the kiss; her arms wrapping around his neck. Her own fingers brushed through his locks as her eyes finally fell shut. An unspoken answer to his question moved past the both of them as Daemon only wrapped his arms around her tighter.

~

1 YEAR LATER

Daemon’s happiness threatened to overwhelm him as he lazily settled in the chair. His legs spread as he watched the feast around him. The cold breeze of the evening needed from the hot summers Pentos was experiencing. Not that he minded; it meant his wife was wrapped up in such delicate silks; just like now, he thought to himself.

Those bright eyes of his followed her graceful movements as the Lords and Ladies greeted her. The blood red dress clinging to her curves as those thick locks cascaded freely down her back. The confidence radiating from her. Soon, his focus was pulled to the bundle in her arms. Their little baby girl is sleeping in her mother’s arms.

Alyssa, named after his own mother. She was just as precious as well, Daemon thought as he slowly moved to stand. Those eyes of his forever watching as he found his children at different places in the room. A smirk tugged on his lips as he noticed Aemond stood next to the Baratheon girl. Oh, his son was not subtle.

As ever Aegon was at the cups but he had grown into himself without the harsh weight on his shoulders. The relationship between him and his mother easily softened, which was seen when Alicent took the goblet of wine from her son and Aegon could only pout. Once upon a time Daemon would have rolled his eyes at such a scene.

His first daughter, even if she was not his blood, happily sat by the window; staring out. He did not want to think of the bugs she may have brought as a dancing partner. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about it but Daemon could not help but soften. She really was the best of them. A sentiment he knew Alicent shared.

As ever, Daeron was by his mother’s side, making her laugh and smile as he cooed to his new sister. It was at that moment the rogue Prince strolled over. Alicent’s large, expressional  eyes locked on him. Her sweet smile came over her face as she gently passed the sleeping babe into his arms. “Daeron picked out her egg.”

“Hmm, I am sure it is beautiful.” Daemon whispered as Daeron nearly fluttered at the praise. He pressed a soft kiss to the sleeping daughter of his before doing the same for Alicent. His free arm wrapping around her and keeping her impossibly close as the music only continued. “I am sure you are hungry.” Daemon hummed and began to lead her away.

Daeron as ever following.

[bloodstained-porcelain-doll]

The Kneeling Queen, ch 2 - Aemond Targaryen x OC

Read on AO3 Summary: Aemond Targaryen and Maelessa Velaryon were childhood lovers. They were each other’s only comfort in a world full of darkness. When they grew up, their love blossomed until they were the only thing the other cared about. Their lives get increasingly complicated due to the fact that they’re supposed to be on opposite sides of the war. Will their love survive or will it burn to ash as the war ensues?

Warnings: Smut, mentions of mutilation, non canonical dragons, canonical character death

Chapter 2 - Illegitimacy

“I do not understand why you spend so much time with that boy! Don’t you care that he questions your own brother’s claim to the throne? The legitimacy of your birth!” Rhaenyra yelled.

“He’s kind to me! The others bully him, mother. Jace and Luke, Baela and Rhaena, even Aegon always bullies him! I’m his only friend and I love him!” Maelessa screamed back.

“He will betray you the first chance he gets, Maelessa. If Alicent plots against us, do you truly think he will take your side? And he stole the dragon that was Rhaena’s to claim.”

“Zaldrizes buzdari iksos daor!” she insisted, and Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, taken aback by her daughter’s words. 

“Who told you that?” she asked.

“Aemond did. You can’t steal dragons, mother, you know that as well as I do. If you could, Daemon would be riding Meleys and I would be riding Vermithor. Instead he has Caraxes and I have Catlys, the smallest little beast of them all. And I have this,” she continued, holding up her hand, showing the missing little finger on her right hand, the one Vermithor had bitten off. “If Vhagar didn’t want Aemond as a rider, he would have lost his head, not his eye.” 

Rhaenyra couldn’t argue with her logic, so she sighed.

“I still do not trust him, Lessa. You’re not allowed into his chamber anymore. You may still spend time with him, but enough of this incessant sneaking around, hiding from the guards and climbing into his chamber at night. No more, do you understand? Soon you will be old enough for people to get the wrong idea,” she urged, holding her daughter firmly by her shoulders.

“Yes, mother,” she agreed, but as soon as the ship took her back to King’s Landing with Aemond and the king’s family, she had no plans on obeying.

The years passed and Maelessa and Aemond’s escapades only grew in number. Almost every night she would climb out her window, walk the narrow path past all the windows and climb towards Aemond’s chamber. When his voice deepened with age, Maelessa grew even more obsessed with his stories, and she found herself no longer falling asleep to his tales, rather she laid by his feet and listened with great pleasure as he scratched her back. When she was twelve and Aemond fourteen, they shared their first kiss, after he took her for a ride on Vhagar’s back for the first time. 

When she was fourteen and he was sixteen, he deflowered her. It happened one night when she snuck into his chamber after a particularly gruesome fight with her brothers. She had been in need of comfort, and they both found themselves craving each other in a way deeper and more primal than before. The act had been awkward and uncomfortable, but they had both yearned for it. She knew as the daughter of the princess she should remain a maid, but she didn’t want to give the gift of her virtue to anyone but to him. He had been gentle and patient with her, being that he was the only one of them with any experience, even if it was scarce.

At ages fifteen and seventeen, Aemond and Maelessa were inseparable. The king’s health worsened with each passing year, and by now he looked twice his age. Aemond was Maelessa’s only comfort amongst all the worry. Her supposed father Laenor had now died, and Daemon and Rhaenyra were married, on Dragonstone making new siblings for Maelessa and the boys, feeding the suspicions about the now four of them being bastards. The younger children came out with silver hair just like their parents, a luxury that was never afforded to herself and her brothers. 

Aegon and Helaena were already betrothed, with twins on the way, and there were rumours within her family of Jace and Baela as well as Luke and Rhaena about to become betrothed as well. Maelessa was going to suggest to her mother that she could be betrothed to Aemond, the next time she came to visit. 

Vhagar landed on a secluded little island, and Aemond helped Maelessa climb down off of the giant dragon. Her own tiny beast named Catlys still too small to ride, but she was quick and agile, flying after Vhagar happily. She was black as coal and flew through the air like a bat. The little dragon continued roaming the skies, while Vhagar slumped down, her head resting in the sand with a great sigh.

“Old and tired, she is. Surprisingly stealthy for her size though.” Aemond gave Vhagar a pat on her great big nose before he and Maelessa began to walk, exploring the small island.

“I love when you take me places on her back. I never want to stop exploring the world with you. When we’re older, can we go further? There’s so much of Westeros I want to see,” she asked, tangling her fingers in his as they held hands. He pushed her up against a tree trunk.

“We can go anywhere you want,” he said, closing the distance between them and leaning in to kiss her neck. She leaned her head to the side, granting him access to whatever part of her he desired. “You’ll never leave me, will you, Maelītsos?” he asked, his hand snaking down her body and in between her legs. She helped him hike her gown up to her thighs and he slipped his hand underneath.

“Never, my prince. You’re all I want, all I care about,” she assured him, and in turn was rewarded with his fingers inside her smallclothes, teasing her quickly dampening pussy. She spread her legs and welcomed him in, leaning forward to kiss his lips. His talents had grown, the intimacy between them no longer awkward, but blissful.

“More than your own brothers?”

“Yes.” His fingers curled upwards, turning her statement into a pleasured whimper.

“More than your own mother?”

“More than anything, Aemond,” she swore. He added another finger and fucked her with them until she clung to his shoulders, a whimpering mess in his arms. “Please, Aemond, claim me again,” she begged, bucking her hips up against him. “Hard, like last time…”

“As my princess wishes.” He picked her up and walked them away from the sand and over to the grass, where he dropped her down so she landed on her bum. He flipped her over onto her stomach and pushed her dress up onto her back. She heard the sound of his belts and breeches being removed, then felt his weight as he mounted her from behind. When he entered her she cried out. He was big and hard, stretching her inner walls out painfully, yet she revelled in the sensation. 

When it came to Aemond, she could take as much pain as he wanted to give. Sometimes he was gentle with her, taking his time and littering her entire body with kisses, cherishing her and pleasuring her carefully. Other times he was rough and unforgiving, claiming her with force and leaving purple marks in his wake, everywhere that clothes could cover. Truthfully she preferred the second way.

“Ñuha syz riña,” he praised when he slammed into her, forcing her body down into the ground. Her pussy quivered around him at the praise. He fisted his hand in her hair and yanked at it, kissing and biting at her neck and jaw. His panting and groans of pleasure turned her on, and she was grinding her hips back up against him as he thrust into her. 

“My prince… Aemond… I’m about to…” she moaned, writing in pleasure under the man who had laid claim to her soul.

“Let go for me, kēlītsos, I want to hear you scream for me,” he urged, pounding her into the ground until she was sure her hips were scraped up. The waves of pleasure ripped through her and she gave him what he wanted, screaming his name over and over as she came undone, her hands ripping out grass as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her. Seconds later, Aemond pulled out of her and she hurried up onto her knees, letting him paint her face with his seed as he took his pleasure, winding a hand into her hair and groaning loudly. She loved when he marked her like this, and she stuck her tongue out to taste the drops that ran down to her mouth. She cleaned him up with her tongue and moaned as he twitched in pleasure inside her mouth.

“Ñuha syz riña,” he repeated, releasing his grip of her hair to pet her gently instead. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, basking in his affection. They cuddled up together and sat like that for hours, talking until they almost fell asleep. In the evening, Aemond struck down a rabbit and skinned it for supper. Maelessa made the fire and they ate together. They both knew they would be yelled at for staying out so late together, but neither of them cared. Alicent was losing power over Aemond more and more with each passing year. After eating, Maelessa braided his silky soft hair into an elaborate warrior braid, and then they climbed back onto Vhagar and flew back to King’s Landing, Catlys following gladly.

Catlys’ scales shone with a beautiful black glisten, she had gleaming blue eyes, two curled horns on her head, and she was the size of a large dog. Her tail was short and stumpy with rough spikes growing out of it. It was fate, they reminisced, that the eyes of her dragon were the same colour as Aemond’s sapphire eye. He never felt compelled to wear his eyepatch around Maelessa, he knew in her eyes he was the most beautiful thing to ever exist, regardless of the state of him.

Just as they suspected, Alicent and Otto were both angry with them upon their return.

“What would your mother say about the way you’re traipsing around with a man you’re not betrothed to?” Alicent asked.

“Let us be betrothed, then,” Aemond suggested calmly. Otto wasn’t opposed to the idea, but Alicent refused.

“Out of the question. Rhaenyra and I have already discussed it.”

“It is a possibility, daughter,” Otto interjected.

“It is not, this discussion is not to be opened again. Both of you are grown now, it’s time to act like it.”

***

Maelessa’s family was coming back to King’s Landing to visit. Despite having refused to follow them home to Dragonstone last time, she did miss them. She fought a lot with her mother, but they loved each other nonetheless. She didn’t feel much for Daemon, but she liked his spirit. He and Aemond were two sides of the same coin. Mostly she missed her brothers, and she was excited to meet the new little siblings.

“There, now you look like a queen,” Aemond said, finishing the elaborate crown braid in her hair.

“Then it’s only fair you should look like a king,” she answered and they switched seats. She began making a fierce looking warrior braid in Aemond’s hair.

“You’re excited to see them again, aren’t you?” he asked, his long fingers stroking her thighs leisurely as she sat on her knees behind him on the bed, braiding.

“Very. Despite our squabbles, I find my brothers quite entertaining to spend time with.”

“Hmm,” Aemond mused, pulling at her legs so she stretched them out in front of him. He hiked her dress up to her knees and traced patterns on her calves with his fingers. “I want to mark you,” he said calmly. Maelessa frowned.

“What do you mean, mark?” She tied off the last braid and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, leaning her chin on his shoulder.

“Since they won’t let us wed, there’s a chance they’ll want to wed you to some other lickspittle lord with a castle or a bridge somewhere. I want whatever cunt touches you to know that I’ve laid claim to you, mind, body and soul. I want to carve my name into your flesh and watch it scar,” he said, digging his nails into her skin until she winced in pain. “Would you let me if I asked, Maelītsos?” he wondered, turning around to face her. 

Her breath felt heavy while she pondered his question. It was an absolutely insane thing to ask, she knew it. Any lord who saw Aemond’s markings on her body would break off the marriage and renounce her as ruined. Her future would be in shambles and she would disgrace her entire family. But still she had no doubt of her answer. Her voice was a whisper when she answered.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t let you do to me, Aemond. If you wish to chain me to you and parade me naked through the streets of King’s Landing, I’ll go willingly. If you want to beat me black and blue every time we lay together, I’ll take the pain.” She ran her fingers down his missing eye, over the patch he wore. “If you want to cut out my eye, I’ll sharpen the knife for you. I am yours wholeheartedly, Aemond, as long as you are mine.”

Aemond took her face in his hands and kissed her softly. His eye was wide with lust at her confession of all the horrible things she would gladly let him do to her.

“I am yours until the day I die, and even in death I’ll haunt you, my love. I will never let them tear us apart,” he said. Then he kissed her again and laid claim to her body once more, marking her with bruises and welts as he took her. This was the first time he used his belt to strike her, but it would not be the last.

It seemed that whenever Maelessa’s family was back in King’s Landing, drama ensued. On this day, it wasn’t the heir to the throne that was challenged, it was the heir to Driftmark. Since Jace was the eldest son, he was Rhaenyra’s heir. That made Maelessa next in line to be heir to Driftmark. But because she had refused to go home to Dragonstone with her family and stayed here with “the greens”, Lord Corlys and princess Rhaenys had sought it more fit to name Lucerys heir. She didn’t care much, Driftmark was a world away in her eyes and nothing that interested her. Her home was here in King’s Landing, that’s where she felt at peace. 

Maelessa welcomed her mother with a large smile, running down the stairs in the courtyard to greet her. She was pregnant again, with what would be her and Daemon’s third child. 

“You’re glowing, mother, you look so beautiful,” Maelessa said, putting her hands on her mother’s growing belly.

“Thank you. Can you feel her move?” 

“I’m getting a sister?” she asked eagerly. She has always wanted a sister, having five brother’s was enough.

“We believe so, but we can’t be sure. I’ve missed you, Lessa. I do hope you’ll come home with us this time,” Rhaenyra said, and Maelessa didn’t answer. She smiled and continued feeling as her possible baby sister moved in her mothers womb. She longed for the day where she would carry children for Aemond, when her belly would grow big with his babes, and he would be the one to lay his hands on her and feel their children kick. They would have the most beautiful little silver haired babies, she was convinced. Her body yearned for it, but they both knew it wasn’t a good idea as of right now. First they needed to convince their parents to wed them.

The king was in such bad shape these days that he wore a golden mask over half his face. Aemond was no longer the only one eyed man in the Red Keep. King Viserys didn’t understand why petitions were being heard over a settled succession. It was Vaemond, the younger brother or Lord Corlys, who was unhappy. Maelessa wasn’t sure where she should stand, with Aemond and his siblings or with her own family. But Daemon had all but grabbed her by the collar and decided for her that she needed to stand with her brothers, so she did. But her eyes continued drifting all the time, to her silver haired lover.

“You know we can always tell when you’ve been together, right? You never wear braids in your hair except when you’ve been with her,” Aegon teased, pulling at his younger brother’s braid.

“Shut up,” Aemond snapped back, and Aegon quieted. Rhaenys took to the centre of the floor to speak. She reaffirmed that Driftmark should pass to Luke, and informed the king and everyone else that the plans were indeed to marry Jace to Baela and Luke to Rhaena. Maelessa was as of yet left out of any marriage plans, but she couldn’t be sure how long.

Vaemond was utterly dissatisfied. He went on a long rant about who deserved to bear the name Velaryon. He accused them all of being bastards, no relatives of his. 

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine! My house survived the doom, and a thousand tribulations besides,” he insisted. “Gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this…” he trailed off, unsure of how wise it would be to continue. 

“Say it…” Daemond challenged, and Maelessa knew that things were about to take a turn for the worse now. King Viserys breathed heavily, exhausted by his task, and Vaemond smiled. A malicious smile of a man that knew his next words were about to end his life.

“Her children are BASTARDS!” He pointed his finger at Rhaenyra. “And she… is… a whore.” 

Gasps and chatter broke out in the crowd, Jace balled up his fists, Maelessa felt fury course through her veins at the insult of her mother, Aegon grinned, Alicent’s eyes were wide in shock, and Aemond kept his eye on Maelessa. The king was angered, rising slowly.

“I will have your tongue for that,” he said tearing his knife from its sheath. In one swift motion, Daemon sliced the head off Vaemond, only the tongue remained attached to his body.

“He can keep his tongue,” Daemon said. Helaena and Aegon looked the most shocked, and Aemond looked in awe. Maelessa stared in disbelief at the scene in front of her.

“Disarm him!” Otto shouted, but the king motioned for the kingsguard to stop. Then he fell back onto his throne, moaning in pain. It was all too much for him and Maelessa felt bad.

“Call the Masters!” Alicent yelled and ran to her husband.

“Father!” Rhaenyra exclaimed, moving forwards the stairs. When she was no longer being forced to stand behind her mother, Maelessa seized the opportunity to run to Aemond whose arms wrapped around her the second she reached him. While chaos ensued, the pair slipped away without anyone but Aegon noticing.

Zaldrizes buzdari iksos daor - a dragon is not a slave Kēlītsos - Kitten Ñuha syz riña - My good girl

[lovedreamer11]

There are times when I really hate HOTD

You have no idea how much I want the HOTD writers to go to hell. I'm a patient person and I'm used to adaptations being different from the original, but what they did with HOTD is a huge piece of garbage. Adaptations often change appearance, plot, time frame, but a drastic change in personality is something I cannot tolerate.

What the hell happened to Alicent? Maybe the real Alicent was a stepmother from hell, but at least she knew what she wanted and was ready to do anything to achieve what she wanted. What happened to the boastful, arrogant, stupid and hot-tempered Aemond? And Aegon? This guy was a hot-tempered, spoiled hedonist, but not Mr. "I do what my mom says. My parents don't love me. It's time to show everyone my sad eyes."

Rhaenyra and Alicent's "friendship" is just 🤮. What the hell is friendship? From the very beginning, show!Alicent was jealous of show!Rhaenyra's position and status and her relationship with her parents. The real Rhaenyra would never have noticed someone like Alicent, let alone befriend her. Both girls had different upbringings, interests and worldviews. What common topics of communication did they have?

What kind of love are we talking about between Show!Viserys and Show!Rhaenyra? For half the season, all Show!Viserys did was just yell at his daughter and not listen to her, and for the second he looked like the walking dead.

How the writers couldn't come up with anything better than stealing some of Rhaenyra's things. Like her signature black dress, a forced marriage to a man who didn't care about Rhaenyra. Did you notice show!Rhaenyra's dresses and hairstyles? The book literally had a description of how Rhaenyra dressed and what hairstyle she preferred, but the writers apparently read the book from Wikipedia and skipped every second word.

I showed my friend, who hasn't watched the show and doesn't know anything about GOT or HOTD, photos of young show!Rhaenyra and show!Alicent from the series and asked what she thought. Do you know what the answer was? My friend decided that show!Alicent was a princess and show!Rhaenyra was a servant.

Just look at the banners they made for the second season. The green banner is really nice, but the black banner looks like a cheap towel.

What about the blacks on the show? How stupid must a girl be, who grew up in a world in which the main purpose of a woman is marriage and the birth of an heir, and who is the heir to the throne, to think that she can avoid marriage? The real Viserys didn't give Rhaenyra a choice and chose her husband himself, but did show!Rhaenyra really think she could avoid marriage? Show!Raenyra is the height of stupidity and absurdity, which constantly contradicts itself.

And Daemon? I really feel sorry for Matt. He is a talented actor and tries very hard. I think if the show had more skilled writers, he could have portrayed the real Daemon. But show!Daemon is a stupid, illogical, absurd clown who doesn’t understand what he wants and doesn’t follow through. This character has so many fans solely because of Matt's charisma, the writers should kiss his feet for that.

And of course, my favorite. There's only been one season out, but the writers have already demonstrated their style of throwing aside logic for the sake of effect. I mean, show!Laena's self-immolation and the way show!Rhaenys ruined show!Aegon's coronation. Do you know what the people who work on the show said in interviews? They added these scenes because they thought it would be cooler and more impressive. Wasn’t the creators of GOT guided by a similar point of view when working on the plot of the last seasons of the show?

And now, because of this show, a lot of people have come out of nowhere to argue that women should not hold leadership positions, remain silent and accept neglect because it is necessary, and rapists and aggressors can be forgiven if they are played by beautiful actors or if the characters lacked parental support love. According to this logic, people should love Joffrey and Ramsay since they both also lacked parental love in childhood.

This show really had potential and a good cast. But the screenwriters' work destroyed everything from the very beginning. Many people still have hopes that everything will be better in the second season, but I am in despair. No, seriously, look at the team banners for season two. They really did a good job on the green banner and that would be fine if the black banner wasn’t yet another proof of the writers’ bias. Black team, we have no hope.