#yandere dragon fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelykhaleesiii · 7 months

Note

hi there! would you be up to writing smut

Dark!Aemond? something for example with age difference, daddy kink, corruption kink, degradation and breeding? If you are comfortable then Reader could be a Targaryen what would be great but if you aren't comfortable then Stark is perfect too

Twisted, Beautiful Minds.

PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Niece!Reader

WORDS: 2,677.

WARNINGS: mentions of warfare/murder, mentions of death-threats, swearing, degradation kink, choking, Daddy kink, corruption kink, breeding kink, manipulation, narcissistic tendencies, male oral receiving [cock sucking], mentions of p in v sexual intercourse.

A/N - you know I'm always down for some dark!Aemond... I want to also dedicate this piece, as a small bday gift to my wonderful friend Mar @aemondsmoon you have been an absolute light for me on this hellsite, and one of my dearest friends... thank you for always being there for me, and thank you for being you. you are an absolute gem, don't ever change. ilysm! 🤍

The turmoil and toils of war had finally come to an end, when Aegon the Elder, your Uncle, had commanded Sunfyre to set your beloved mother, Rhaenyra, and younger brother, Aegon III, to death by dragonfire. Your heart shattered, and mind numb, you were certain your own death was imminent in the moments after: at the very least, your Uncle would punish you with a dragonrider's death... Yet that would not be the case at all.

It seemed other plans had been set in stone. Chained and escorted by the Kingsguard to return to King's Landing once more, where you had only days previous, fled in fear, were you welcomed by the cold stares of the "Green" Council. Your chains removed, as neither the King nor his Mother, had seen you as a threat, you felt no purpose to resist nor to fight back... Your family dead, your will had died along with them.

"Fetch for Aemond. Tell my younger brother that his betrothed has returned."

His stern words felt incomprehensible in your thoughtless mind, lagging to understand the notion. You felt a cool, chill course through your weak body, rigid as though you had turned to stone, and yet, you were still breathing, still ever so present. No one had consulted you on such plans or schemes. And you were certain that Aemond himself would definitively refuse to marry the daughter of a traitor [as you presumed he would justify]. Your Uncle, Aemond, was a formidable man, fought against your late father, and had emerged the victor... And as the war, and the recent imprisoned days had taken its toll on you, your eyes darkened with the lack of sleep, unable to eat a crumb of bread, you did not look as you once had in your frivolous court, as he had once remembered you.

Although, as he sauntered into the room with such poise and stature, a certain charisma of that of a victor oozing about him, with not a single word exchanged, other than a devious smirk supplanted across his once serious face...It seemed there was more to the union than meets the eye.

Since your captive return to King's Landing, a place in which you had once considered your home, felt nothing more foreign. The stone sand walls that you had walked and run through as a child, now looked strange, the unfamiliar symbols of the Seven proudly hung around every available wall and space, gave an ominous feel. The halls seemed less brighter, even during the break of day, with the sunlight blatant in the sky, you instinctively felt as though a shadow lurked around every corner, attentive to your every move.

Dragonless, and defenceless, you were less of a threat than the younger Princess, Jahaera. The King and his Council had deemed you stable enough to roam the castle grounds freely, with a close knight in pursuit, only to ensure your own "protection" [as Aegon would admit that Aemond insisted], although you saw it more as means to deter you from being tempted to run away.

Regardless, Aemond had not spoken a word to you since hearing of the betrothal. He attended dinners with you in sight, although you rarely spoke yourself, mostly pleading and bickering with Alicent to remain in the desolate confines of your chambers. She was incessant about you joining the family, as the union was to be set in a moon's turn.

He dared not even to sit beside you: constantly at opposing ends. Although, there were rare occasions you had caught the younger Prince, brazenly staring at you with his one good eye. Unapologetically, his full attention spanned towards you, even if he had noticed you had become aware, he did not cease gawking.

Something about his looming gaze made you feel uneasy, very much on edge: a dark tinge to his violet eye, his pupils darkened as they seemed dilated. It inevitably made your stomach churn, only forcing you to resign in defeat, often excusing yourself to bed.

And often you were left undisturbed to recluse in your chambers... Although tonight, it seemed you were not alone in your ventures.

Retracing the exact steps you would take most nights, often on your lonesome return to your quarters: this time there was an accompanying sound in the distance, echoing down the hallway behind you. Heavy footsteps that caught your immediate attention. Slowly panning around, the shimmer of his lengthy, silver hair against the pale moonlight that peaked through the open crescents of the corridor, was alluring to your eye. Halting in your tracks, your breath hitched against your throat, all in trepidation, as Aemond effortlessly caught up with you in a few short strides. This was the closest he had ever truly come up to you, his towering height against you, made him even more daunting face to face.

"Running off to bed again, I see. And why is that?"

The sudden eruption of his deep, low voice breaking the stillness of the castle passage, startled you uneasily. You had exchanged many words and conversations with your elder Uncle before, during an ancient time long before the Dance had spurred. Although, the dynamics had inevitably changed, blood had been shed viciously and cruel words spat. Despite the same Valyrian blood coursing through your veins as of your betrothed, you felt solitary in their surrounding presence.

"I-I lost my appetite, U-Uncle. I wish to retire for the night," You aimlessly stutter, too weak to hold eye contact with Aemond, whose gaze remained fixated on you. His vibrant lilac orb luring over every inch of your timid body.

"Do you think it wise to roam the castle your lonesome self? Has the war not taught you otherwise? Is my niece still that same stupid, little whore I have known?"

His harsh remarks shadowed by that familiar, sly grin struck across his slim face, was plenty to furnace an incoming reaction from you, your blood boiling beneath your tender skin.

"Ah- tongue tied now, princess? Have I struck a chord with you, hmm? Mayhaps you are as weak as your father was... Now, how would he feel knowing you are to marry me? That I'll fuck his little girl, like the common whores he saw."

Your mind had no correlation to your hand, and yet the simmering rage that blistered through your body sent your mind to abyss. The small palm of your hand, strikingly latched across Aemond's face furiously. And yet, although a sharp stinging sensation poured across your hand, Aemond remained unfazed and sturdy. It seemed you had smacked the grin across his face, and in its stead, that familiar, unnerving dark tinge in his eyes scorned across at you.

Before you knew it, Aemond gripped your sides firmly, forcing your body forward, as he harshly shoved you against the cold, stone wall.

"You think that wise, whore? After the mercy I fucking showed you. I could have your fucking hand for that, or worse your head. My pretty wife's head on a spike, I'll have it right outside my window."

The cruelty that oozed from his precise lips was relentless. You wanted to burst into tears or more, burst into flames there and then...

"Do you know how long I have waited to have you under my very touch? All the sacrifices I made, the arguments I fought against my own Council to keep you alive? Ungrateful fucking bitch. Did your Daddy not teach you to be a good, obedient girl?"

One of Aemond's calloused, rough hands reached up hastily, his long fingers wrapping just so lightly around your throat, as his thumb gently stroked at your lips. His viable eye ogling tentatively over your mouth, smacking his lips innately.

"I'm your fucking Daddy now. Teach you how to be a proper lady, and a good fucking wife. I'm going to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, till you are dripping of me. I'll have you begging like a pathetic, stupid whore. I'll fuck you till I have heirs of my own, till I see fit that you have disgraced your extinct, traitorous bloodline."

"A-Aem, U-Uncle-" You breathlessly whimper in fear: freshly, swelled tears glaze your vision, as they begin to clear with each shedding streak.

"What did I just fucking say? I'm not your Uncle anymore, bitch. I'm your fucking Daddy. You would be helpless without me. Probably dead without my doing. You fucking owe me."

"Y-Yes-" Another breathless whimper, although Aemond's grip loosened, his other hand began to slowly move its way over towards your breast. His uninjured eye moving in motion with his hand, eagerly wandering over your bust. That same, very hand, began to keenly grope at your plush side, kneading at your breast tenderly, it felt foreign and sensitive under his strange touch.

"All fucking mine... Finally. Did you really think, I would let some insolent lord have you to himself? I'd start a war for you, I won the war for you. And now you're going to repay me, just so-"

A mindless moan flew out of your wet lips, catching you abruptly by surprise, and by the looks of it Aemond, as his blackened pupil dilated with a ravenous hunger, his ears pricking and leaning forward in delight.

"I'll have you moaning for more, precious. Now on your fucking knees-"

Even with the hatred that roared deep within your belly, you felt reluctant to retaliate, as you knew Aemond would effortlessly overpower you. As he had in your youth, when you were caught in a brawl with him, often ending with him wrestling you to the ground. And after his detailed spill of such vile threats, you dared not to risk the second chance of life, you had been granted.

Your knees hit the concrete floor with some brutality, although you regained from the ache. As you steadied your propped position, your hands gripping tightly at Aemond's slim waist, he began to undo his grey, washed out trousers.

The sheer sight of his cock, was intense enough to have you questioning whether you could even take him. Although slim in girth, his length was extraordinary. A reddened tip just oozing lusciously with a white, clear film glistening over the crown.

"Suck Daddy real good, bitch. Show me that, that mouth has other good uses than for talking back."

Your attention lurking from below, dropping from Aemond's face to his cock and back up once more to his face: the sudden change in his mood shifting was palpable. The momentary, light-hearted look of ecstasy dismantled as a cold, unsettling gaze resumed across his handsome face, lingering over your kneeled state.

"Make me fucking repeat myself one more time, whore and I'll treat you worse than a whore. I'll have you forget that you are a Targaryen princess."

Aemond's large hands found their way at the base of your skull, teasingly stroking your loose strands away from your face, within a few seconds the sudden shove towards him, left you physically speechless. Your mouth slightly agape, was enough for Aemond's stiffened, pulsating tip to propel its way into your tight mouth. The friction of his hard cock against your silky, warm flesh inside, was enough to set Aemond's breathing into a speedy pace. Lean chest heaving, the mindless groaning on his behalf was somewhat alluring. You had never seen nor heard such sounds or vulnerability in Aemond before.

"F-Fuck, that feels so fucking good- Just as I prayed to the Gods. I'm going to make your mouth so numb, so fucking filthy of me, you'll be tasting me still in the months to come."

No coherent words exchanged from below his waist, only muffled moans and breath hitches, as you sulked with crave. As much as it infuriated you, pained you to admit, the feeling of Aemond's rigid, throbbing cock in your mouth, was elevating. You had to admit, in your youth, previous to the blood that had been shed, you had a childhood feverish crush on your elder Uncle, although thought it unlikely that anything would flourish from it.

"Seven Hells. Such a pretty whore, with a pretty mouth. J-Just the p-prettiest whore in the Seven Kingdoms."

With each plunge, rhythmically bobbing backwards and forwards, the raw taste of Aemond's cum, tastefully filling your mouth to capacity, as a mixture of his reside and your own saliva oozed from your crevices. The dreading thought of being caught in such a contentiously vulnerable position, especially before being wedded, was disturbing enough, for you were not yet widely favoured by the Council...

"Ughh- Swallow and get up, whore."

Self-disgust stirred nauseatingly in the pit of your gut, as you reluctantly devoured small mouthfuls of Aemond's load, almost convincing yourself you would retch it all up in a matter of seconds. Much to your relief, you remained poised, meekly wiping away the mess across your lips, shying away from Aemond's unmoving regard. As you regained your normal pace of breathing, Aemond lent a hand over, grasping your undivided attention. With such ease, Aemond aided you, lifting you up to stand, before confining you closely between the wall and his heated body once more, closing whatever space was made between.

"Now let's see what that cunt has to offer."

His skilful hands hiking your layered gown up, making way for his arms to snake around your bare thighs, lifting you idly off the ground.

"Can't wait till the wedding to tarnish you, I've waited long enough."

A sudden bolt of lightening pain shot from within your inner thighs, as your tight walls stretched out ceaselessly to accommodate, as Aemond shoved his rigid cock inside. Your back flattened against the sandstone wall, its texture rough against the delicate silk of your gown. Burying his length deeper and deeper with each harsh thrust, his heavy balls collided with your silky folds as he vigorously pumped himself back and forth. His pace, although rough, remained steady. His raw, sensitive tip pummelling at your cervix, felt scorching inside your lower belly.

"And if I fuck you so good, that you begin to swell with my child... What would your dead family think of their precious daughter then, huh? These tits belong to me now, and the mother's milk that comes with it. Your entire being belongs to me now. That babe in your belly will be all because of me, and you'll fucking love every bit of it."

"I-I owe you my l-life, D-Daddy-"

The words mindlessly slipped from you lips, and yet it felt instinctual to say. As Aemond's mouth lapped at the sensitive crook of your neck, you felt the smirk of his grin against your skin, his sharp teeth faintly biting at your soft flesh.

"That's right, baby. That's so right my needy, little slut. You have a Daddy now that can really take care of you, protect you... Love you."

The epitome of his words, the calm depth in his voice, had reached its glorifying peak, as Aemond's hot load shot up directly into you, reverently coating your insides. Like some royal orchestra in unison to his final thrust, did a growling moan escape his lips, followed by an whisper of a swear. Leaning his exhausted, heavier mass over you, as he safely guided your legs back down to the surface, his breath densely hot against your ear, his outstretched palms cladded against the wall for support.

"Clean yourself up, Y/N... Wouldn't want anyone else to see you as the whore that you are, and get any ideas-"

His heavy breathing made his voice less formidable and more husky. Eyeing over your form, as you once more scoured and polished up the mess he made between your thighs, with the inner layer of your gown. You simply nodded in response to his demand, before hastily attempting to rush back to the confines of your quarters.

Yet, a firm pull tugged at your elbow, causing you to halt in your tracks, unavoidably.

"I will seek you out again tonight... Be ready for me."

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

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amaea-jewels · 6 months

Text

THE CONQUERORS | LEVERAGE

—— summary: In a world where soulmates exist. Your fate has been sealed to the dragons who burned down your home.

—— genre: Dark!au, soulmate au, yandere

—— warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, some very light angst, smut

—— pairing: Aegon Targaryen I x female!reader, Visenya Targaryen x female!reader, Rhaenys Targaryen x female!reader

—— word count: 5k

*no beta we die like bruce wayne's parents * first-time writing, english is not my first language

Never before had you experienced such overwhelming terror. You were a collected person by nature, content with allowing chaos to unfold for others, more so even when you had a hand in creating the chaos. Yet, tonight, it appeared that the karma of all of those nights of "fun" had finally caught up to you.

You found yourself being dragged by two strangers, being forcibly led toward the direction of one of the larger tents positioned at the farthest edge of the camp. You had known you were fucked from the moment your eyes had first locked with violet ones. You had felt the bond snap in place. Those violet eyes, the ones that had burned ypur home to ashes, now held you captive. Your life was now entwined with those haunting eyes that had taken your family from you.

You briefly entertained the idea of ending your life. The tent that they were leading you to was situated relatively close to a cliff. Though you were unsure whether the height would prove itself to be fatal, you felt more than ready to take the risk.

Choosing to end your life would be much more honourable than warming the bed of those who had caused your family's demise.

Newly formed soulbonds were meant to be consummated, and you were well aware that the longer time you spent with them, the more inevitable it would become. You knew that it was only a matter of time.

Ending your own life would save you from that fate.

The thought quickly leaves your mind, as you finally arrive at your destination. A sense of relief washes over you upon seeing that the tent is empty. However, that relief swiftly fades away as you are pulled toward the large bed situated in the room's centre. Your arms are tightly bound by sturdy metal chains, anchoring you to the master bed. You sigh, leaning your head against one of the pillows, attempting to find some rest.

The next several hours pass like a blur.

New guards take the place of the former standing right outside the tent. One usually remains on guard while the other leaves — you're not sure why. The idea of you actually being able to escape or cause any kind of damage is laughable at the very least. How would you be able to run whilst tied to a bed with metal chains?

You know it's late when one of them finally shows up — the darkness that fills the room is more than enough of an indication — it's the older one you realise after a few moments of watching her. Her hair was beautifully braided into intricate patterns. She was beautiful but there was an air of darkness that seemed to cling to her. She swiftly took off her ringmail, not even sparing you a glance, as she started undressing.

You did your best to avert your gaze, as she undressed herself fully. She turned toward you, recognising your presence for the first time since entering the tent.

She sauntered toward you. Her cold harsh unforgivable violet eyes digging into you. You're keenly aware of the fact that she's still not wearing anything, as you keep your gaze toward the side. Attempting to hide yourself from her.

She seizes hold of your jaw, redirecting your gaze toward her, eliminating any possibility of evading her. With a firm touch, she runs a finger across your face. The bond hummed at her actions.

"So you're the one."

Eyes still cold as she studies you carefully. Her hand which was previously caressing your cheek, start travelling down south. Stopping briefly at your throat, giving it a light squeeze before moving on, her hand stops when it reaches down to your waist.

She presses her naked body closer to you, keeping the eye contact as she dares you to do something. An amused smirk crept onto her face, at your obvious discomfort. The both of you stay there for a few minutes. Neither speaking, as she continues to study you with those violet eyes of hers.

Simultaneously, she seizes both of your hands, releasing her grip on your jaw and waist. She brings both your hands up to cup her breasts, as she brings herself closer to you. Both of your bodies pressed tightly up against one another. She slowly starts grinding herself against you. Disregarding you completely.

You start thrashing against her desperately attempting to move your hands away from her body. Suddenly, her grip on your hand loosens, and one of her hands swiftly flies up to encircle your throat, exerting firm pressure to keep you in place. You look up to study her facial expression, to see every ounce of amusement had disappeared, instead replaced by a serious demeanour. She leans in intimately, bringing her face close to your ear.

"You fight so viciously, just like your family. What a shame that couldn't save them from their fate," she speaks venomously, "but there's still some of them left, aren't there?"

She looks down at your horrified expression. A smile starting to bloom across her face.

"Your nephew, what was his name now? Was it Flammin? Fliden? No, it is Florian, is it not? Such a sweet young boy. Just passed his fifth naming day hasn't he?" she taunted a wicked smile still present on her lips, "it would be such a shame if his life was to be cut short now, wouldn't it?"

Tears welled up silently in your eyes as the weight of her words began to settle in. Florian, a young boy, was the sole family you had. His mother had succumbed to childbirth, and his father had fallen victim to those ruthless monsters. Florian had always been a frail and sickly boy. Without proper attention, he wouldn't survive even a fortnight. You had dedicated countless nights to his care since his birth, nurturing him in the absence of your older brother. Who always had matters of the court to attend to.

You felt guilt prickle away at your chest. You had completely forgotten about him. In your defense, you hadn't even been sure he survived. Most had suffered the cruel fate of being burned alive by dragon fire. But surely if Queen Visenya knew of his existence, that must've meant he was still alive?

You didn't answer. There was nothing to be said. She had won. And you could tell she knew that too from the smirk that was covering her face. Slowly her hand started slipping down your body again. Coming to a halt when she neared your breast. Keeping the eye contact, she started palming them. Realishing in seeing you melt. As the bond started to hum even stronger.

"Visenya" a female voice called from behind, halting Visenya’s movement, "playing your games again, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you refer to," she snapped, keeping her back turned toward the woman, "I was simply familiarizing myself with our bonded."

The woman standing behind Visenya was beautiful. With silver hair that swayed openly down her back. It took you a moment, to recall her name; Rhaenys. The youngest of the three conquerors.

You continued to stare at her shamelessly. She was beautiful, both of them were. You absently noted, that her violet eyes were lighter than that of Visenya, there was also a sense of playfulness in them. You presumed that made sense, from the rumours you had heard, Rhaenys was supposed to be the more kindhearted and playful of the three.

Rhaenys' eyes flicked down briefly to meet yours. You were met with a comforting smile, as her eyes flickered up to meet her the older again.

Her lips parted, and unfamiliar words flew from her mouth, a language entirely unknown to your ears. Amidst the unfamiliar words, you faintly understood the mention of the name "Aegon."

Aegon. You're body subconsciously shivered at the mention of his name. It had been him who had discovered you. After the burning of your home, the survivors had been brought before their new king. They were to bow and hail him for his mercy. It was at that moment when your eyes had locked with his, you both knew.

Words had not been exchanged. He had simply walked through the crowd and grabbed a hold of your wrist where your mark was located. With one simple glance at the three-headed dragon symbol marked into your skin, there had been no point in denying it. King Aegon had motioned for his men to take you, as you stood frozen to your spot. He started barking orders for his men to follow, but you could barely make out any word he was saying. Head still reeling from the revelation.

You could feel the irritation radiating off of Visenya as she completely let go of you. The two continued to speak in a foreign language, as Visenya dressed herself once more. The two seemed to be on the verge of arguing before they both left, leaving you alone once again.

You lay sprawled across the bed, sleeping peacefully until the gentle touch of an unfamiliar hand caressing you, caused you to startle awake. Your eyes were still drowsy with sleep, and it took you a minute to fully recognise the person sitting in front of you.

"Aegon," you whispered in shock.

You had only just spoken the words when you jerked away harshly, your body moving on its own accord. You were unaware of when you had fallen asleep last night. You must've drifted off the sleep while lost in your own thoughts.

"Hello," he greeted warmly, edging closer up the bed toward you. You didn't answer. To dazed by sleep to fully comprehend what was going on.

"You must be cold," he tried again. You could feel he was attempting to start up a conversation and unlike Visenya, you had an irking feeling he would want you to respond.

"I'm fine," you responded meekly.

He hummed, seemingly not convinced. He inched himself nearer toward you, aligning his thigh with your reclined figure, the pressure causing the bond to hum. Encouraging you to move closer toward your bonded. You relented. Despite whatever desire that remained inside of you to give in to the bond, and allow for them to do whatever he wished to you. You could not forget the screams of your people as the dragon fire consumed them. How could you ever forget? When their screams would haunt you to the night you die.

“I apologize for Visenya’s behaviour. She can be very . . . . forward to say the least.”

You nodded, accepting his terrible apology and excuse, so you could move on to what was important.

You sat yourself straight up. “My nephew, is he well?”

“He is well,” Aegon confirmed. His finger returned to your face once more, as he started trailing your features. “I can assure you no harm shall come to your nephew, as long you as you remain with us.”

While his words were meant to be comforting. The underlying threat was not lost on you. The message was clear: attempt to run and your nephew would suffer the price for your foolishness. Instead of arguing with the man who held your nephew’s life in his hands, you opted to change the conversation.

“What time is it?”

His reply came instantly. “Late at night. By now most, if not all, have retired to their tents.” His finger continued trailing over your features, now reaching your lips. He applied firm pressure, eyes keen on your every expression, as he moved on to fiddling with your hair.

“Where are your wives then?” You had not meant for the words to escape as bitterly as they did. But at the very thought of Visenya and her complete disregard for your discomfort and family. You couldn’t help the root of anger that was settling over your heart at the mention of her.

“In their tents, resting for the night.” If he had heard the bitterness in your tone then he was certainly ignoring it. He kept a comforting smile on his lips. You furrowed your brows at his answer. Should the Queens not be on the side of the King? While it wasn’t fully uncommon for spouses to have separate rooms, you would’ve assumed bonded like them would remain together.

He seemed to be able to tell your confusion for a moment had not passed before he started explaining himself. “My sisters enjoy having their own separate beds. I fear they would argue far too much about the other stealing all their space. Though I suppose that may perhaps change with your arrival.”

Sisters. They were siblings. Right, you had completely forgotten. The Valyrian custom you had heard so much about. It had completely escaped your mind that all three conquerors were of the same blood and of the same father. Disgust crept its way through you at that revelation.

“Should you not be sleeping?” You quickly said after realising that you had spent far too much time pondering about the strange Valyrian custom. “I much rather spend my time with you,” he replied smoothly. Eyes flickering up to meet yours again.

“And how fun that must be, staring at me sleeping.” You bit back, before realising you had spoken back to the King. “It is indeed,” he replied back rather amused, “especially with my name rolling off your mouth whilst you slept.”

Heat begin to prickle at your skin at his words. Surely you did not?

“What were you dreaming of?” He asks.

You're aware that he’s only asking because he already knows the answer. And despite you not remembering the dream, you're also keenly aware of the sheet of sweat that covers you and the way your undergarments seem to cling to you. You internally curse yourself. You recognise it to be a symptom of not having the bond consummated immediately after your initial meeting. The heightened sense of arousal, the sexual dreams and the need to be in one another’s presence. Direct symptoms of the bond. You remember your mother’s stories of bonded ones meeting for the first time. They usually consummate the bond at the exact moment they meet, the frenzy of the bond simply too strong to resist.

“I don’t remember.” Only a partial lie, you truly did not remember, however, you had an irking suspicion toward what that dream contained, as did he.

He laughs a quiet yet dangerous sound that strokes a fire inside of you. “Perhaps then, I could help you remember. It was after all me you were dreaming of.”

The meaning of his words caused your body to grow fully warm. “You’re flattering yourself far too much,” you lamely attempt.

He moves closer toward you at those words. As you started slowly crawling back from him. A large smirk grew on his face. “I’m sure you like to think that, wouldn’t you.” He drew himself nearer, standing so close to you, you’re faces were merely an inch apart, “but I heard the way you called my name, so sweetly.”

“I did no such thing.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice drops down to a sensual tone, “I myself have to admit that I have found myself dreaming of you plenty of times throughout the day,” he closed his eyes momentarily. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He begins, keeping his eyes closed as if he was imagining it right now. “Or I see you laying on this bed, my sisters between your legs, worshipping you with their mouths, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart starts pounding fast. In fact, you’re not sure if your heart has ever gone this fast before. You feel warm. Too warm, despite the coldness of the night seeping into the room. You can feel your pulse in your throat and the dryness that has settled over your lips.

“So tell me once more, what was it that you were dreaming of?” He asks in a hushed voice.

“Nothing.” You reply quickly, averting your gaze toward the exit. The idea of running away from this entire situation seems suddenly very appealing.

“So you don’t wish for my help?”

This time you don’t reply too afraid of giving the answer that you truly wish to say. After a moment of pure silence. With you ignoring his longing eyes, he decides to change his approach.

“You must be feeling so desperate.”

You don’t respond too afraid to say anything anymore. He leans toward you. You can feel his breath in your ear. You can feel the ache between your legs growing stronger.

“We’re not meant to go this long without each other,” he whispers delicately against you, “you know that. It’s only been a couple of hours. Yet, your body is aching for me, just as I am for you.” He glides his tongue against your cheek. Fire spreads everywhere he touches you. “Poor Visenya could barely contain herself from want. I had to order her and Rhaenys to leave you alone or else I fear they both would’ve ravished you the moment you entered our camp. But I convinced them it would be best if I warmed you up to us first. That all of us at once, forcing your attention upon us. Whilst your mind was still reeling from loss would be far too much.”

Your breath comes out shaky as you struggle to contain your own wants. It would be so wrong to give in. They had murdered your family. They had even threatened the only one that remained. Briefly, you wondered how things could’ve been different if you had met under normal circumstances. Telling your mother how happy you were at finding your bonded, asking permission to court you properly once the frenzy of the bond had passed. How different it all could’ve been. Instead, it was them who had robbed you of all of that. Your mother was dead, and so was your father. There was no need for a courting period for there was no one alive for them to ask permission for your hand from.

“Give yourself to me.” Aegon’s voice is rough with wanting like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, let me ease that ache you feel. Give yourself to us, and in return, we shall give you whatever your heart desires.”

“My heart desires for my family to be alive, tell me can you make that happen.” You snap back tears brimming into your eyes at the mention of your deceased family. A full night had yet not even passed and here you were dishonouring them all by giving yourself to the man who had killed them.

Something shifted in Aegon’s eyes at those words. Violet eyes growing stern much like Visenya’s had. His hand grabbed at your jaw bringing your eyes up to meet his. The familiarity of the situation was not lost upon you. As you stared up into his beautiful violet eyes.

“What happened to your family was their own fault had they simply bent the knee as I had asked of them. There would be no need for the pointless slaughter of your people,” his grip at your jaw tightened, “but I have been merciful have I not? I could’ve burned the survivors in dragon fire as well, but I did not. I could’ve killed your pathetic nephew who continuously begs my guards to be brought into your presence. But I do not. You know why?” He rubs the tears falling from you eyes away, “for I am a merciful King, but that does not mean, I shall remain one.”

“What is merciful of you burning my family alive? It was our King who made the decision to not bend his knee, not us!” You shouted back, jerking yourself free from his hold. "You say it’s mercy letting us live. Very well, then go ahead kill me. Give me the solace of being united with my family once more.”

He laughs, coldly at your little display of anger. “Very well, but remember that you asked for this.”

He backs away from the bed, grabbing his sword on his way out. “Wait! What’re you doing.” You desperately yell after him, “I told you to kill me, to punish me! Wait!”

You struggle against the metal chains keeping you tied to the bed. Your screams for Aegon to stop echoing through the night. Soon those screams are replaced by those of others. Dread fills your being as you realise what was happening.

Tears stream down your face your throat becomes sore from your sobbing. Eventually, you fell asleep, tears still streaming down your face.

Upon awakening, a throbbing headache greeted you—a consequence of having cried yourself to sleep. The light streaming into the tent suggested that it was now daytime. You glanced down at the blanket enveloping your shivering form. Vaguely, you remembered someone entering the tent late at night after you had drifted off. Whether it was Aegon or another you weren't sure. Exhaustion had overwhelmed you to the point where the mere thought of opening your eyes and checking was too much.

After throwing the blanket on you, the person joined you in bed. But remained at a comfortable distance so as not to disturb you. As you stirred around, you became aware that the person had left.

You sighed, running a hand through your face. The metal chains still digging painfully into your wrists.

The events of the previous night played back in your mind on repeat. A sense of dread fills you. What would the consequences be if you continued to reject their advances? How far would they go to keep you in line? How many would die as a consequence of their anger? Would they kill you if you continued to deny them?

You remained sprawled on the bed for several hours, unable to free yourself from the metal chains that bound you. Eventually, tiredness overcame you, and you slipped back into slumber. When you stirred again, it was to the sensation of someone shaking you awake.

"You must be starving," the voice observed. You recognised the voice; Rhaenys.

Before you, she stood, as breathtakingly beautiful as you remembered her to be. It took a moment for her words to fully register, and then you nodded in agreement. The audible growl of your stomach served as a reminder of the prolonged time you had gone with the absence of food—it had been two full days. Rhaenys smiled, offering you a plate of food. Without a word, you accepted the plate and began to eat. Rhaenys remained silent, unabashedly observing you as you ate.

After finishing your meal, you silently set the plate on the side table. The room fell into a hush as the two of you sat in silence, you with your gaze fixed on the floor, and Rhaenys studying you intently. Suddenly, she rose and positioned herself directly behind you on the bed, your back pressed against her chest. A surge of fear gripped you—what was she planning? Would she force herself on you as Visenya had done, or would she threaten you much like Aegon had done?

Surprisingly, she did neither. Instead, she pulled a brush and began running it through your hair. You started relaxing under her gentle ministrations. Eventually, she transitioned into braiding your hair skillfully. Two large braids took shape, and she proceeded to pin them up into an elegant updo, her actions gentle and kind.

"You shouldn't have said those things to Aegon, you upset him."

Her words sent a sudden jolt through your body, erasing any trace of comfort that had briefly settled into you. Instantly, tension gripped your frame.

"Your continued denial of the bond shall only bring pain to us. Embrace it. Acknowledge your destined path. You belong to us now," the calmness Rhaenys exhibited while speaking, caused shivers to run down your spine, "should you attempt to escape with your little nephew, our forces will inevitably hunt you down and bring you back. Half of Westeros has fallen to our whim, the rest shall soon follow. Tell me, who shall risk their lives and those of their kin to shield you from us? Last night, you incurred only a speck of Aegon's wrath, forcing him to unveil but a fraction of our might. Imagine the repercussions should you provoke us once more."

With that final word, she left. Leaving you once more in a state of fear.

Days pass before someone attempts to visit you again. Each day, a new guard came to attend to you, delivering food and bringing you to a nearby lake to clean yourself.

As days pass you begin to fight your own instinct. Begging for you to be near your homicidal bonded. Each night you were haunted by dreams of them, each dream leaving you more frustrated than the last. The fact that you know that they have been visiting every night while you pretend to sleep doesn't help.

It is on the fifth day of this behaviour continuing that you finally snapped.

A gentle hand traced along your back as your consciousness began to return. Most of your nights since entering the camp had been spent sleeping, daydreaming or reading. The familiarity of the rough hand hinted at Aegon's presence, a revelation that didn't surprise you. Although all three had taken turns visiting you every night. Aegon was the one that usually ended up curled next to you sleeping at night.

Upon feeling you stir, he retracted his hand from your back. Instantly your own shot up to stop.

“Wait,” you all but begged, “don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

His voice was rough, just like you remembered it to be. He hadn’t spoken to you directly, not since that night. You had heard him bark orders at his men and seen him conversing with Orys Baratheon. But he had refused to speak to you ever since you had snapped at him.

“Touch me, please.”

The pure desperation in your voice wasn’t lost on you. And though you felt heat creeping up your skin at your confession, you couldn’t deny how badly you needed him. After all, Rhaenys had been right. You were only causing yourself misery by refusing yourself what you wanted. At your request, his hand rubbed down the side of your waist. Your breath becomes shaky as you turn to lie on your back to face him. Aegon was staring at you intensely.

You didn't know what to say to him. How to voice out the desire building in your chest. So you settle for calling out his name. Your voice is dripping with desire and desperation. Gazing into those violet eyes, you catch a glimpse of the fire so characteristic of the Targaryens just before his lips meet yours.

There’s nothing gentle about the kiss shared between you two. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of their true desires for far too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. His hand grabs a hold of your hair and keeps you in place. The bond hums loudly in approval of your actions.

Aegons draws himself back slightly to look at your expression, his free hand moving to palm your breast over your nightgown. You moan at the feeling. His other hand lets go of your hair to slither down your body and press against your core.

“You’re drenched,” he mutters breathlessly, slowing down his movements as he starts to tease you, “I could make you cum from this alone.”

“Please” you beg, your hips bucking up to meet him.

“I should make you beg me for it after everything you put us through.” His eyes are dark as he speaks, his thumb pressing hard against your clit, making you moan. “Luckily, I am a generous King. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod wildly, as he inserts a finger into you, pleasure pulsating through you.

“You’ve been craving this, waiting for this very moment,” Aegon murmurs against your ear with a wicked smile. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper pathetically, your hips rocking wildly aganist him. “Say it,” he demands, pushing another finger into your dripping core.

“I need you to make me come, Aegon. Please, my King, I need you so badly.” You purposefully empathize with his title, knowing what button to press to make him give in.

His violet eyes darken even further as he pulls you towards the edge of the bed, getting down on his knees in front of you. He makes swift work of removing your clothes. Before his lips descend down on you. You moan loudly your hand moving to entangle yourself into his hair.

Aegon mumbles something against your clit that you can’t hear, before teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing it in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers moved to find that soft, aching spot inside of you and he purposefully pressed against it in slow, firm thrusts that made you tremble.

“Aegon, please” you moan, partly as encouragement for him to continue and partly because you want him so badly. You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release. You’re so close.

“Aegon, please,” you plea again, truly desperate now. “Please my king. Please.”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or if it’s just pure coincidence, but in that moment. Aegon shifts his rhythm, bringing you closer toward your peak and over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you hard. You have never felt anything like this before. You feel satisfied but also feel the ache growing stronger than ever before. He looks up at you a smile displayed on his beautiful, handsome face. He crawls up to you, pressing a deep kiss into your lips. He continues kissing you as he slides a hand down to your core again. Firm fingers pressing against you. “There you go, feels good doesn’t it?” He murmurs into your temple pressing a kiss against it, “I wanna see your expression this time. You can come for me again. Can’t you my sweet girl?”

He speaks as if it’s a question but from the way he’s pressing his finger into you. You know, you have no choice in the matter.

“Oh, dear, Lords,” you gasp loudly.

You’re doing so well for me,” he kisses you again. He lowers his voice to a sensual whisper, leaning in closer to your ear. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over me like the sweet girl you are.” It’s the combination of his words, his voice and his perfect hands that bring you over the edge.

“Yes, that’s it,” Aegon mutters encouraging, as he watches you. “You are so beautiful when you come undone like that.” He kisses you slowly. It’s only then you realise that he's still fully clothed while you lay naked underneath him.

You don't have time to complain. All of a sudden, he grabs hold of your body, manhandling you around so you now lay on your stomach. He pushes your head into the bed harder as he scoops a hand underneath your hips, lifting your bare ass into the air, exposing your drenched pussy to the cold air.

He lands a hard smack on your ass.

"If you hadn't been so stubborn, this could have happened much earlier" Aegon spoke in a hushed voice, hands trailing down your waist. You said nothing. Entirely too breathless to defend yourself. Aegon placed himself at your entrance and allowed you no time to adjust to the massive length of his before he slammed into you. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You gasped as he picked up his pace, fucking you with wild and reckless abandon.

"Come on, my sweet," he taunted, "tell me how much you hate me now."

Aegon slammed into you so deep it really felt like he might kill you after all. You felt yourself pulse around his cock, your pussy trying to somehow pull him in deeper.

"So. Fucking. Tight," he said through gritted teeth. His hands gripping your hips with such force you knew they would bruise. Part of you beamed internally at the idea of being marked up by your bonded. Heat exploded inside of you. Your eyes were momentarily blinded as you felt yourself reach your climax.

"Please, fill me, Aegon," you begged, head still shoved into the bed. Aegon groaned at your words, holding your hips tightly as he pulled you back up against him to fuck him. He picked up his speed, thrusts becoming messy and sloppy as he chased his own peak.

He thrusted in roughly a few more times before he finally stilled, pushing inside of you as far as he could. He stayed inside of you for a few moments more before slowly pulling out, watching his cum spill out of your abused cunt. The loss of him being inside of you, causes you to whimper, feeling empty.

"That was truly a spectacular show," Visenya's voice sounded. Turning to your right, you beheld the sight of both the sisters standing there, a hint of amusement evident in their expressions. "I certainly hope you're not too tired for another round," Rhaenys quipped. The two women sauntered closer toward the bed where the two of you were situated. Crawling over the duvet toward you.

"Not that it truly matters if you are," Visenya smirked. Planting her mouth at your shoulder blade, she started sucking. Rhaenys copying her movement on your other one. You hummed in delight, completely unaware of the massacre that was befalling your people outside the tent, as your bonded made sure to keep your undivided attention on them.

They couldn't afford the possibility of your focus being split between them and the well-being of your people, especially when you were destined to belong to them. And with the bond now finally complete, you would never be able to leave. The strategy of isolating you without their presence played out flawlessly, leveraging the bond into compelling you to yield.

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milksuu · 1 month

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ᴀ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀꜱʜ & ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ───── ♛

pairing: evil!hiccup x f!mute!reader

wc: 1.7k

tw: yandere, implied kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, mention of blood/violence, mention of death

synopsis: You regretted the day they left him for dead. And you’d regret the day you ever saw him again—he’d make sure of that.

A gleam of orange blazed in the bleakness of night.

You watched from your hilltop window—the thatched roofs off the eastern slopes of Berk twisting and writhing in flames. Even from a distance, you heard the breaking moans of ceilings, the cracks and bends of collapsing wooden structures, and the piercing wails of scales met with sharp edges of iron. Despite The Red Death’s fall, dragon raids still plagued the lands.

Perhaps it was all a sign of retribution.

You were told to stay within the safe confines of your home. Your father hadn’t wanted to risk your life, considering how precious you’d become. The next Seer in line after Gothi, gifted with spiritual wisdom, healing, and authority of officiating the next chief.

But the price to pay had been steep.

The house was dark, not even the smallest candle lit. Nothing that would draw a glimmer of attention to the home. A creak ached the roof above, and you flitted your nose up to the rafters, drawing lines across the ceiling. Nothing but your shallow breaths filled the silent dark.

The hearth then erupted with flame and spark, jolting you from back to neck bone. Had you any voice, a strangled scream would’ve ripped from your throat. Twisting, you had almost forgotten to breathe. A figure shrouded in shadow and leather stood beside the crackling firewood. Light and dark danced in an undulating battle across the strangers’ features–revealing a horrifying familiarity.

“Hope you don’t mind if I warm this place up a bit.” That voice, boy-ish in tone, lacked any hint of innocence or niceties. He stretched a gloved hand towards the licking flames, doing nothing to warm the ice coating his insides. “Couldn’t help but notice you looked a little cold and...alone.”

A snap of wood made you flinch; addressing him with quivering lips and dilated eyes. Your long-lost greeting didn’t forebode well.

Every piece of leather tightened around his body as he shifted. Turning to ensnare you within his talon like stare. When embers casted a sheen across his face, you braced against the sight. Soft features long since abandoned, reforged into a visage of cold iron. Carved and littered with scars and nicks across his furrowed brows, cheeks, and clenched jaw line.

“Well, this is kind of embarrassing. Wait, no. That’s not the word I was looking for. More like—disappointing. That sounds like a better fit. For you and everyone else here.” Hiccup stalked forward, a contraption of metal clanking and scratching against the splintering floors. Each step clanged through you, until he stood one heartbeat away. “After all these years, I’d thought you’d have a bit more to say than a blank stare. Every night, I dreamed about how this conversation would go. Just like how I dreamed things could be better than what they were. Funny how you can plan for things to go a certain way, but then…”

He pressed his hands at each side of your head, the glass window behind begging to crack from the pressure. His scent permeated, forcing you to swallow. Once smelling of spring honey and rolling glades, now sundered to singe your senses like bone ash and lightning storms.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s a little different.” He placed a calloused finger into the dip of your clavicle. He dug and dug until your pained gasp fell deaf to his ears. Tilting his head, he curled the lip of his mouth. “So, just like Gothi, you gave up your voice. Good—great, actually. This works out better for me.”

The smile that crept over his lips never made it up to his eyes. Not like before. Those vibrant meadows sullied into a sickly, muddled green. Thick and ichorous. And dared you stare long enough, you could never trudge your way out. Although you already felt stuck within them, your hand slipped silently into the pocket of your dress, where your fingers brushed against the hilt of a dagger.

You drew it a mere inch before his hand captured yours, twisting until he pried it into his possession.

“Come on. We both know you were never good at fighting.” He chuckled, wagging the sharpest point between your trembling eyes. “I’ll admit it. I wasn’t either back then. That’s something we had in common…until I had to be. Guess that didn’t work out in anyone’s favor on this wet piece of rock. Now, did it?”

Your vision blurred. Screams of the village roared in your ears. Screeches of dragons pierced through the air, engulfed in smoke and fire. Having consumed so much in its wake, you felt the heat of chaos leech into the glass. Searing your back pressed against it.

“Woah. Hey, don’t cry. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he swept a rough thumb over a falling tear stain. “Not all of them will die tonight. I mean, just think about it for a second. Can’t be chief and rule over a bunch of burnt corpses. How counterintuitive would that be?”

“As for you though…” he continued, and your heart stalled as he traced the cold metal down your flush cheek and neck, pausing just above your breastbone. “I’m only standing here, watching everything and everyone turn to ash around us, all because of you. And don't tell me you don't remember. When you mended my leg. Somehow kept me from bleeding out. Just before the entire village abandoned me.” His clouded eyes narrowed down. “Including you.”

Releasing you from his pinning weight, your legs wobbled. As if he hadn’t just snatched your foothold underneath. Terror kept your feet webbed in place, watching as he twirled your dagger in his fingers like a child's play thing. Crouching near the fire, he mindlessly poked and prodded at the stoking wood. He picked away a scrap of charred chipping, before plunging the blade into the flank of the burning log. You gazed at him, chest tight, aching. How he hadn’t flinched when the fire slicked around his hand like oil.

He dragged the smoldering stump from the hearth, creating a scorched line. When the licks of fire seeped into the house floors, he rose, one vertebra at a time.

“If I’m being honest, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” He unhooked a masked contraption from his belt buckle and tightened it over his face. The eye sockets were of yellow stained sea glass, and the mouth of it appeared like a muzzle of iron teeth. “Leave something already weak, then crippled to survive on its own. Gambling on the high-stakes of death. So sure of the outcome, no one bothered to turn over a shoulder.” Hellfire rose and swelled in the reflection of his mask. “Maybe they should’ve.”

The rapid hunger of the hearth fire blazed and curled across the floor of the home. Heat lapped towards your skin, drawing out sweat from your pores. Dense smoke began filling the wooden death chamber. You inhaled the black snowflakes, searing your lungs once they melted inside you. You slapped a hard hand over your mouth, coughing and shuddering against it. A pang of panic willed your body to move. You attempted to open the window behind you, but to your horror, it had been welded to the frame.

Your eyes watered, hugging the wall as you traced it to the door. When the handle clattered against your pulls and tugs, a ghostly laugh floated around you. The metal was bolted shut from the outside. A bout of nausea cramped your stomach. Fear darted your eyes toward the stairs, where the flames hadn’t yet reached—but soon. Perhaps the window of your room hadn’t been tampered with.

You darted towards the steps, and before you could place one foot up, a black beast stalked from the darkness of the second floor.

The floating embers danced hauntingly over the onyx scales, and gashes rippled in the firelight. Revealing wounds healed twice, perhaps three times over. That body of night perfectly reflected it's master’s outward appearance.

And as you drowned in those feral slits of pure abandon, it was apparent they also shared the same broken, unmendable soul.

“Oh. You remember Toothless, don’t you?” Your face paled, backing slowly as the Nightfury slithered down the steps like black ink. A predatory growl rumbled above the snapping and collapsing wood around you. Hiccup sauntered to the dragon’s side, patting the thick of his neck, pulsing with power. Another laugh at your expense. “Looks like he remembers you.”

You fought the claw of unconsciousness raking over every part of you. Choking, straining against your hand pathetically covering your mouth.

“Since you did me a favor back then, I’m going to give you one chance to make it up to me.” The mask muffled his voice, but the wickedness screamed, rattling your veins. “You can either choose to stay here and burn with the rest of Berk or…” he lifted a hand, hardly an invitation, but a devilish bargain. “You can choose me.”

In the thick of your pounding head and chest, you considered burning to death was the wiser option of the two. All that he was—what he’d inevitably become—held no promise of a life worth degrading yourself for. Nothing about you would be spared. And it wouldn’t be long till you dropped on hands and knees, begging for him to take your life. To end his drawn out game of torture. One he’d carefully crafted for years and years.

Just for you, only for you.

Still, you clung to life. A measly mortal thread. Your shaking hand lifted, painfully reaching for his fingertips. One step forward, and the world spun in wisps of red and black. Your lungs and heart throbbed, practically seizing. A calculated arm caught you, cradling you wholly, close as any lover would.

“Good choice.”

You heard the waning words of approval, and through the fading light of your vision, something fastened over your face. Your last conscious breath had been clean, airy—a pleasant contrast to the toxic fumes.

Then, nothing.

#hiccup #hiccup x reader #hiccup imagines #hiccup haddock #httyd #httyd fanfiction #httyd x reader #httyd imagines #how to train your dragon #evil!hiccup #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #reader insert #x reader #fem reader

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blakeswritingimagines · 4 months

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A Little Bit Happy

Summary: You seem to have won your husband's heart all over again after the news of you having his child, until he shows you how truly dark his heart is.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Part 1 Burn The House Down

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

"I'm pregnant." She spoke softly.

His eyes widened for a split second before he broke out in a soft chuckle. Was he imagining things, or were you truly saying what he thought he heard? “Do you mean it?” He asked slowly, taking in every word. He was unsure, but this would explain the weight gain, as well as why you had been so… moody. He had no other choice but to believe you for now. A child! This changes everything. Aemond was shocked. “P…. Pregnant?! Are you… serious?!” He was speechless. He tried to keep his composure but he could not hide his joy and excitement. Was it true, you were carrying his child? The thought alone sent his heart racing. He looked at you and put a smile on his face. This was the news he had been waiting for all this time. And he looked you straight in the eyes. “Is this true?” he asked, his eyes filled with joy and wonder. You heard Aemond's reaction, his eyes widened in shock and excitement. And you knew it was as you expected. You were truly carrying his child. "Yes, it is…" You replied in a sweet voice as your face grew bright with a wide smile. You felt so happy that Aemond was excited about the news, hoping the tension between you both would dissolve. "I am pregnant with our child." You continued, as you placed your hand on your stomach. "I've been trying to keep it a secret, but it has become difficult to hide. I guess I can make it official." You laughed and glanced at Aemond, who seemed to be beaming with enthusiasm. You wanted him to be happy and to hear the news he had been waiting for all this time. "It's true," you said, your eyes shining brightly.

“A baby?!” Aemond said with a grin. “You’re saying we’re going to have a baby?!” He placed his hand on your stomach, as you had done. “My lovely wife… I had feared that this day would never come. I could not imagine a day when we would not bring forth the next generation of our house. But, my worries are gone. We have made what I most desired.” Aemond laughed with joy and embraced you, holding you close in his arms as his grin grew wider and wider. Your hand rested on your stomach, the movement of your hand looked as though you were comforting the child being carried within. And he was overjoyed by this revelation. This was no secret anymore. Aemond was a man changed. He smiled and took your hand bringing it to his lips and kissed it. "Our child. Our beautiful child."

Months later, the pregnancy went smoothly and you began to notice your belly growing larger and your mood changing. You felt your emotions become more intense as the pregnancy became more advanced. Your moods shifted from happy to angry to anxious to affectionate, all in the span of just a few hours. You could not explain it. Aemond knew your mood swings were common and he understood it the best he could. However, these mood swings of yours were becoming more frequent and intense as the pregnancy progressed. He was constantly finding himself walking on eggshells, unsure of which mood his wife might have. Your mood swings were often unpredictable, and Aemond never knew what to expect from one moment to the next. But he understood, you were carrying a life within you, it was bound to create such mood swings at the least. He had to be patient with you. And he was. The days he seemed to be distant were now fewer and further between the two of you, he was there by your side always. He could see the weight changes, you were getting rather large now. He could notice it in your face and around your midriff. It was not easy being married to someone who was so emotionally unstable. It was especially exhausting being forced to play the role of husband and father at the same time never finding a good enough time to come clean about what he'd done. He was constantly stressed and his nerves frayed at the slightest change in your behavior.

The pregnancy was taking a toll on you. Your mood swings were becoming more and more uncontrollable. You would be laughing one moment, sad the next, and you could not figure out what to do about it. You felt that you were losing yourself and had no control over your feelings. You were now getting closer and closer to the due date. Your belly was huge and you were uncomfortable even as you constantly asked if you were fat or pretty. You tried hard not to let it bother you, but it was getting more difficult to ignore. “My dear, you’re gorgeous.” Aemond’s tone was filled with love and kindness as he spoke to you. “You are bigger yes, because our child is too, but you are not fat. And you are not losing yourself.” He added as he held you close. “You are becoming a mother. These feelings are natural. You are carrying our child within you. Your emotions are bound to be different. This is how it should be. You are going to give life. You are becoming more beautiful with each day.”

You listened to him carefully as he tried to reassure you about your changing body. You felt your confidence rise at the way he talked, calming your nerves with his words. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but love, nothing but honesty. "Thank you, my love… You are right. This is how it should be." You smiled faintly, feeling more at ease. You felt your mood shift slightly, your pregnancy hormones calming down. It felt good to hear the words come from him directly, not just in your head. He was happy to see, that his words were helping. He took you into his arms and held you. His hand stroked your belly, as he spoke. “You are more beautiful now than ever before.” Those were the words he believed in this moment. You were not getting larger, you were getting more beautiful. Because the child within you was, a part of you both. It was beautiful to him. Aemond kissed you, it was a long kiss, filled with love.

Aemond was filled with nerves and excitement as the day of childbirth approached. He was as much worried for his wife’s health as he was for the child’s. But he did not show his worries to you. Instead, he tried to keep calm you. “You will be fine.” He told you. “In a few hours, we will see our child. Our beautiful child. I will be right beside you the entire time my dear.” He held your hand and kissed you once more. “I know you will. You have been by my side through everything… This will be no different.” You smiled gently at your husband, feeling comforted by his words. As you felt the baby kick inside your belly, you looked down and placed your hand upon your stomach, caressing the baby.

“Our beautiful child.” You repeated in a soft voice as you looked up to Aemond. Your breathing steadied and you felt more calm as he held your hand in his and placed gentle kisses upon it. You tried to focus on the good instead of the anxious thoughts that swarmed you. “I am so nervous.” You quietly admitted to him, feeling your emotions rise as you remembered the pain that would come during the delivery. “It is natural to get nervous my dear. But you won’t feel a thing. I hired the finest maester there is in King’s Landing to see to it that this whole process is as painless as possible.” He would let nothing happen to the woman he loved. You need not to worry. He would make sure of it. “When the time comes… we shall hold hands, and you need not fear any pain. I shall be by your side to ensure nothing goes wrong.” He spoke to you in a soothing tone, trying to quell your fears.

In your mind, all was well. You were going to give birth in a few hours to the child. A boy or girl. That did not matter much to you. As long as the baby was healthy and strong, it was all you could ask for. But the burning secret. It loomed over Aemond. He could not even feel anything but shame knowing what he was keeping from his wife. He had to keep this from you otherwise all would fall apart. He could not tell you. Not now. Perhaps never. It was the secret that loomed over him, that he felt he could not disclose to her. This was something that could change everything. But he could not find the right way to go about breaking the news to her. You were carrying his child, and you did not deserve to go through this pain when he could ease it. You were so vulnerable and he could not risk hurting you in this way. “I cannot stop thinking about the pain.” You said softly as you felt the discomfort in your stomach, moving your hand to your lower midriff and rubbing it gently. “What if I do not survive?” You whispered to Aemond, looking for reassurance from him as your eyes were glued to his. The burning guilt only grew as you approached your delivery hour. He knew he should have told you sooner, but each day the news got harder to reveal.

The more you spoke, the more he felt ashamed and remorseful. It had been months, and he had yet to tell you. What was so hard about telling you the truth, the same truth you so desperately wanted to hear. But it would ruin everything. The guilt he felt for hiding this from his wife was unbearable in this moment. You seemed so worried. You were afraid. You were looking at him of all people to console you, to tell you everything would be alright. “You will survive. I promise you that.” He told you. “You are strong. Stronger than any in the realm. I have faith you will emerge victorious.” The promise was meant to soothe you, to ease your fears, and he hoped you would believe it. He did not know how much further he could keep this from you. He had to figure out a way to tell you soon. But not now. Not while you were this fragile. His words comforted you, allowing you to smile faintly. Your gaze softened as you looked into his eyes. “I believe you.” You nodded, your breath becoming steady once again. “Just be by my side during this delivery, and we will be fine.” You said, holding his hands. You felt the contractions tightening and you gasped quietly, looking over to Aemond for a moment. "Thank you." You gave him a small smile, trying to stay positive. Your nerves seemed to have calmed down, and his words had given you a sense of relief. "I'm looking forward to holding our baby in my arms… The thought of me actually being a mother… We will raise our son or daughter with love, and we will be happy as a family." Your voice was soft and loving. You closed your eyes and leaned in to rest your forehead against his chest.

You and Aemond were celebrating the one-year nameday of your babe being born. Holding held a grand feast, inviting all the important lords and ladies of the realm. The mood was lighthearted, and a sense of happiness permeated the air. The two took some time away from the feast to enjoy the evening alone together, walking through the gardens of the Red Keep as Aemond said he needed to speak with you. Aemond had been preparing for this moment. He wanted to finally tell you the truth. It had to be done. You were finally alone, the moment he had been dreading for so long. But he could not delay any longer. He had to tell you. All the signs pointed to now. “My love, there's something I must tell you” But now he hesitated again. Maybe this was not the best moment. Maybe it should be done tomorrow, yes. Tomorrow was a better day. Tomorrow was good. He will tell you tomorrow. But as the time of the walk came to a stop, he finally built up the courage.

You smiled at Aemond, not noticing anything amiss, and you continued walking with him through the gardens. You had been enjoying the quiet moment with your husband as you enjoyed the beauty of the gardens. Your mind was occupied with the happiness of the day, and you wanted to cherish the moment. "What is it dear?" Aemond stopped for a few moments. The time had come. He did not enjoy watching you walk and be so happy when he knew that he was going to shatter all joy. He hated himself and everything about what he was about to say. He turned to face you. For a few moments, he could not speak. But then finally, he managed to gather his words together. “I… there is something I must tell you. But I implore you, please understand…” You felt a sudden tension in the air when Aemond stopped walking and you could not read his facial expression. The feeling of unease set in and the happiness you had been feeling vanished. You looked up to him, awaiting him to continue speaking. You suddenly stopped as well, your face softening as you noticed the look in Aemond's eyes. You immediately grew worried, sensing something was wrong. There was a hint of fear in your eyes as you spoke to your husband, your tone becoming urgent. "What is it? What is wrong?" You said, your heart pounding.

You were so innocent. Too innocent to know what he was about to say. He would need to break this to you gently. To be kind in this moment. To not be too harsh. The guilt was eating him alive. There was so much he had done wrong. But he had to tell you. You deserved to know what he had been keeping from you all this time. “There is… an important thing I need to tell you…” His voice was filled with guilt. He struggled to find the words. To put a voice to his actions. And as he felt his heart pounding, he pushed through. “I have… I have seen.. another woman.” He paused. It felt as though the entire world was closing in on you both. “Her name is Alys… Alys Rivers. And I have been…” You did not believe what you just heard. You thought your whole world was crumbling down before you, yet Aemond's words were slowly chipping away at your heart. The fear and anger built within you as you listened to him confess about his affair. You felt cold and numb, all hope and happiness lost within you at that moment. It took you a few moments to even breathe, the shock of it making your heart sink even lower. You couldn't even look Aemond in the eyes… you just kept her eyes on the ground.

Aemond noticed how you did not look up to face him. It tore him to pieces. He was the one to hurt you. He was the one who had caused this. He was hoping there would be some sort of understanding. But he was not so lucky. “Please, I beg you. I could not stop myself.” He knew that what he did was unforgivable. But he had to at least try to make his case. It was all he could get out at this moment. He paused for a moment and thought about the consequences this could have. You were so sensitive and he was pushing you to the absolute limit. He did need to keep his words right. But he wanted to try something. Blame you for not getting pregnant sooner. He thought about that for a minute. It was the only thing he could think of, but was it the right thing to say? Could a simple lie ease the pain for now at least? He looked at you, hoping that his excuse would be enough. “You could have gotten pregnant sooner.” He said. He was testing the waters. He had to find a way to shift the blame.

Those words hurt you more than he could ever imagine. Hearing those words come out of his mouth shocked you to your very core. You hated him for blaming you, and yet your heart clenched at the thought. The rage inside of you grew hotter as you listened to his cruel remark. You felt furious as you thought about him placing the blame on you when he had been the one who had strayed from the marriage. That was absolutely unfair to you. You had been trying your very best to give him a child, while he had been fooling around. Your face grew pale as Aemond tried to blame you, and you felt your heart sink even lower. Your eyes turned to him, filled with anger and grief as you could not believe what he just said to you. You started to tremble, and your expression turned cold, as all of the memories of the failed attempts to bring another child to life came swirling into your mind whispering in a broken tone. "I did all I could." It was the best thing he could do. He had to do it. He could not imagine what would happen to him, to his marriage if he did not succeed. You might leave him. So he must use his cunning. It was something he had been practicing for years. He knew you were smart, but your feelings made you weak. He had to use it to his advantage. “You haven’t been trying hard enough, my love,” Aemond said in a harsh tone, His eyes softened to not give away his deception. “Yes… I only wish you would have done more.” He said to you. “I cannot help but think that this is all your fault.”

His words cut deeper than a razor, cutting directly into your heart. You froze at his words, unable to speak. You felt so lost and alone now. Your whole world was falling apart. Your heart was shattered. All of those times when you had attempted to bring another human life into this world… you gave her all, feeling so much frustration and worry when the attempts failed. To say it was all your fault was just cruel, but you kept quiet, letting him continue. The plan was working. He could see it in your eyes, in your expression. All he had to do now was continue to play it out. He was getting what he desired. The seeds of doubt had already been planted. And you were not stopping him. You were letting him dig his heels in and plant more. He had to continue, the entire fate of his marriage depended on it. He continued to push you. He was not holding back even as he stepped closer and cupped your face. It was best this way. No regrets. If he could not have your forgiveness he would settle for this. “It has always been so easy for you to give up. First with the miscarriages, then the failure to conceive sooner. It is sad, that it took me having an affair for you to do anything in life.”

Tears were flowing down your cheeks, your heart in pieces. You tried to keep your composure, but it was all becoming too much for you. His words were too cruel and too devastating. And the more he spoke, the more he cut into your heart making you think you should apologize, making you feel worthless. You were too weak to even speak, your mind and body both numb as you stood there, letting him continue. Yes, that was the effect he needed to see. The tears. The sadness. Your weakness. It was all there. He just needed to continue. “You need to understand your duty as a wife… it is to provide your husband with an heir. And you failed. You have failed until recently.” Aemond was enjoying this. Seeing you like this. You were so meek and pathetic. The thought of you on your knees, begging him to forgive you was not too far off now. He continued. “If you had tried harder…” he said. “If you had offered more…” The cruel words flowed from his mouth and landed perfectly. You were in a state of shock, but you were not fighting back. Instead, you were allowing him to tear you down. He could continue down this path and finally, he would have you. It did not take long for tears to flow from your eyes. He was taking full advantage of your sadness. No time for remorse now.

You could not believe what you were hearing. It was too much to bear. Your stomach twisted at these words. You felt sick. As you stood there, tears pouring down your cheeks, your voice was no more than a whisper as you let out some words. "P-Please…" You choked out as you tried to look away from him. Your knees began to tremble as you felt you were close to breaking, your eyes filling with fear. You were so close to giving up. Your strength failing you. 'Good,' he thought. You were close. He could taste your defeat in the air. His words had found their mark. You were in a despairing state that he had never seen you in before. He had to keep pushing you. You were on the brink, he could see it. You were on the verge of giving up. Now he just had to press on. “Your failure was the reason that I turned to another woman. You had the chance to give me children. You had the chance to keep me happy, all of those times when we tried…” He waited for you to apologize. For you to beg forgiveness. This is it. This was the moment that the seeds he planted would blossom into something grand. The thought of you on your knees, begging him to forgive you put a grin on his face. “Please?” He said, smiling at you as he watched you tremble. “Please what?”

"You're right. It's all my fault." You said as you finally looked into Aemond's eyes, your eyes overflowing with tears. "I should have tried harder. I should been a better wife. I should have given you more children. Please, please forgive me." You said as you began to weep, unable to hide your emotions any longer. You felt so weak, and powerless, and he had succeeded in breaking you even as you leaned against him for comfort. Exactly as planned. You were his. Now that you had said the words, you had admitted it. Your apology was accepted, despite its emptiness. You would not try again. “Good.” He said. “I hope that you have learned your place as a wife and as a woman�� I hope that you will learn from this situation. And… I suppose I can forget this incident, so long as you behave yourself from now on. But I forgive you. I want to give you another chance.”

Relief washed over you at his acceptance of your apology and his forgiveness. You smiled softly at him, finally feeling some hope again after what felt like weeks of misery. You didn’t want to disappoint him again, and now that he had given you another chance, you were determined to make it count. “I promise you that I will behave. I won’t fail again.” You said in a soft voice before looking away for just a moment, feeling ashamed. “Thank you, my love.” “Of course.” He said, giving you a reassuring smile. “I know you will not let me down.” He saw how you still looked ashamed. A thought popped into his head. He must go further with this for now. Perhaps he would regret it later on but for now. “The fault is not completely with you. I have failed you as well. I have not loved you enough. I have not appreciated you. I have not given you all the attention you deserve.” He knew this was not the truth. But it was needed to ensure your completely submissive state. “Now, shall we return to the feast?”

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yandereunsolved · 2 days

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🐉 ✧ Yandere Aemond Targaryen ✧ 🐉

With you, this has been Aemond's only safe place since you were hired when he was but a child, and so were you. He would see you following the other maids and workers around like a lost duckling, constantly tripping over yourself, and failing at the simplest tasks. You grew proficient over time, but that didn't stop the harassment that came from young Aegon and the others. He had to become blinded in one eye to truly see you.

He thought you foolish at first. He pitied your futile attempts to reject Aegon's advances. Your education was nonexistent, and your manners only the minimum. You had not the physical strength of the guard nor the cunning that every power-hungry noble possessed. You did have two things that made you worth his time: your curiosity and comfort.

You didn't gasp in horror after his horrific disfiguration. You didn't scold him for not being wise or mighty enough to win the battle of being ambushed. Chastising him was not within the rights of your station, but many below him still did. Perhaps that is why he was so surprised when you were the only maid who offered to change his bandages and report to the maesters on his healing.

As you got bolder in his care, you dared to lightly caress the scar with the pad of your thumb. He would never admit how embarrassed he felt that you had taken such a liking to him. You seemed so content with the fact that he was now damaged goods. What lady would want a man with such a deformity?

You even gave him a porcelain eye for his socket as a gift. It wasn't the best made, but it was the most you could afford. You spent half of your weekly wages on such a thing. Aemond could feel a fiery sensation rising in his gullet. His fingers caressing the porcelain and meekly thanking you before dismissing you back to your duties.

He never wore the gift, as it wasn't what he had truly hoped for. Even as a sapphire remained in his empty socket, he always kept that glass eye in a wooden box right next to his bedside. He sat up many nights with pathetic droplets of sadness rolling down his pale face while clutching the object. He couldn't be strong all alone, but your token of good faith helped him get through his darkest hours.

That is when his courtship of you truly began. It was subtle. He had grown into a young man, and you had grown to be a fine worker within the walls of the Red Keep. Many would be suspicious if he always asked for you to care for him and do your duties near his room instead of having to traverse all throughout the castle.

He would leave you small gifts, like how a dragon will offer dead beasts to its rider as a sign of affection. They would be flowers from the gardens, trinkets, and silk cloths. Small notes of words that are translated into High Valyrian. "'Avy Jorrāelan', it means I love you in High Valyrian. I am sure your lips are sweeter than any pastry the finest chefs could bake." The short notes became increasingly violent and lewd over time. "One day, I will kill every man who has touched you who is not me. I will ravage you atop their dead corpses, and you will see their blood mixing in with my spilled seed." You stopped reading them. So he switched to another tactic.

He had you carry his gear when he went to ride Vhagar. He introduced you to her, and she loved you just as he did. He could see it in her eyes. He's never seen the savage beast look so at peace. Vhagar went as far as to gently grab ahold of your clothing and tear at it. It caused you to become fearful and hide behind Aemond, but there was a certain mischief behind his dragon's actions.

"My prince, I fear your dragon dislikes me." You mutter so softly that his ears are barely able to pick the words up.

"I think she is very fond of you. If she hated you, then she would have eaten you already." There was an air of amusement present in his voice that you haven't ever heard before.

"Should I take comfort in that?" You inquired while a bit confused about this peculiar situation.

"You should."

"I shall, then. She is your dragon, and you know her best. You always end up being right about these things—I mean you are extremely intelligent. You are just always able to figure these things out. Your good looks and charm help to. I—" You felt you said too much and shut your mouth.

Aemond learned to tease you in such a way that would get you to spill these thoughts of yours. He did it so shamelessly. He made sure those bastards knew you were taken through his method. He almost kissed you just to prove that neither Jacaerys nor Lucerys would ever be able to lay a hand on you. He didn't have to worry about Aegon anymore. His drunk of a brother learned well not to trifle with you after he gave him a broken nose and a bloodied lip. If anyone dared upset you, especially those not his kin, well, they have particularly gruesome deaths.

All of this and you thought him mostly indifferent to you. None of the most twisted emotions ever rose to the surface when he was around you. He always waited until in private. He knew he had to keep you in his clutches. He couldn't scare you away quite yet.

"Dear?"

"Me?" You squeak in surprise.

Aemond tucks a dragon's breath flower behind your ear as you turn to face him. No words escape him. Only a contented smirk appears. Before you have an opportunity to question him, he walks off. How strange. You gently adjust the flower in your hair. It makes you oddly giddy.

"How cute." You murmur.

Aemond heard your words. He couldn't wait for the morrow. He will take you back to Vhagar and confess his love. He will offer you to become his spouse. His mother surely wouldn't be happy, but he would. And if the worst comes, he will burn down all of Westeros just to be with you.

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myladysapphire · 6 months

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My Lady Strong (V)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 2,323

CW: maniplation and bullying, toxic relationships, stalking, obssession

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n we get to see some of aemonds perspective and lets jsut say hes a 'little' mad and obssessed with Aemma

“My Lady strong” Aemond mumbled, taking her hand in his arm as they walked into the great hall. It had been four years since the event of her ninth name day, and since then her and Aemonds relationship had become more and more turbulent.

“Aemond!” she grumbled, walking forward, a smile plastered on her face as they entered the feast held to celebrate their bethrothal.

She had officially become a woman in the eyes of the court and the gods. Her moons blood having arived four moons prior, allowing plenty of time for Alicent to prepare her for her wedding to Aemond, a duty her mother should have performed. But her mother scarcely came to red keep, her favorite child and only daughter had quickly become forgotten over the five years since driftmark.

Though the past four years had been spent with sneers and loathing glares, atleast on Aemmas end, between her and Aemond. These past four years had been some of her favoruite.

She had quickly become a favoruite at court, with lords and ladies throwing themselves (literally in some cases) at her, to get a glimmer of her attention. It seemed that the second her and Aemonds obsession with eachother ended (as far as Aemma was concerned, though Aemond still stalked her and obsessed over every detail of her, just now in secret).

She had her beloved ladies. Girls from throughout westros, handpicked by Alicent and her mother (a very rare event and scary event, that she knew they both had loathed, and she loathed the thought of the two people that hate eachother to such a large event that the court had even taken sides, just to find her freinds) to be her closest friends and her confidant.

There was five of them in total, Cassandra Baratheon, her dearest friend and fellow hater of Aemond, Rosia Tyrell, the youngest of them at ten and one namedays, having replaced Yara Reed, after she was sent to bear island for her marriage to lord Rickon Mormont, then there was Cerelle Lannister, Jason lannister. Maergret Fossway, and Cersci Costayne.

They had been her ladies for four years now, though she knew soon enough they would all have to leave, they would be married off and scattered throught westoros, and she would have new handpicked friends coming and going every few years. But she still adored them, though her and Cersci had a turbulent relationship, these girls were her sisters and she dreaded to think of life without them. Life without their daily tea and gossip, or their walks through the gardens, their days without tormenting Aemond with petty pranks. Yara had been older than them all, being seven and ten namedays already, and she being three and ten would be the youngest, and once wed would arrange all their marriages herself and be able to let them go when she felt they were ready, and not as soon as possible to help appease a waring family.

“Aemma!” Aemond sneered, they had reached the high table already, “stop daydreaming!” gods, he was annoying.

Patting down her dress and they moved to sit, she spoke “can you for once not be so cruel, we are too wed in seven days, lest us be civil” she spoke, her smile still pastered, a fasle calm to all onlookers.

But to Aemond he could tell she was worried, the pranks she would play on him had stopped, the teas and walks with her annoying ladies had halted, and she now spent most of her time in her room or the library.

Since her moon's blood, She was scared, and he had been making her scared, for years, and now they were actually getting married he could tell she was scared, of what, he wasnt sure.

He had been cruel and taken his pain out on her when she was innocent. A mistake he can never take back. And yet he had no remorse for it, as he would torment her, calling her lady strong, whispering bastard in her ear in the guise of sweet nothings. He would deliver dead pink Hydrid tea flowers (also known as Aemmas Rose), with their heads cut off in her room. Shredding what was once their favorite books, and leaving the remanst scattered in her spot in the library. He had taken over every corner she had once seen as hers.

“Hmm” he sighed “fine, prephas…on one condition” he spoke, seeing the fake loathing she loved to look at him with turn to…hope?

“What? You get to pluck out one of my eyes? Or no, I must pluck out my little brother's eye? Oh wait that is your right, an eye for an eye, something i agreed with in case you have forgotten, which if the last five years have been worth anything then you have-”

“Aemma” he shushed her, “gods, i do not want your eye, and yes i may have forgotten that you had taken my side once you found out what had happened, but that does not change that you” he whispered the next part, moving closer “are your whore of a mothers bastrad”

She flinched “that is not somehthing i can control, and you know that, so you can't fault me or hate me for it, espcially when in seven short days i will be your wife”

“Gods, I know that, I do, but everytime i look at you and i see your wretched brothers.”

“You think i dont know that, me and my brothers never gor along, do you not remember their ‘pranks’, such as the black cells? You remeber that don’t you? Rememebr how you wouldn’t rest until i was found, and when you did you were the only one who could sooth me, you were the only one who could get me to sleep. What happen to us Aemond, why did you turn to hate, when all i hver gave you was love. I understand we had somesort of obsession with one another but if it was really that bad then why did you not tell me, instead of hiding behind your pitiful excuses. We could have had a great love Aemond, and instead you made me hate you, so what what is this one conditon you desire, because i can assure you i'll do it, but it does not mean i will stop hating you, and i doubt it will stop you from hating me” she spoke these words, with a cold smile, looking out onto the feast, a fake look of happiness, as if they were the perfect couple, the couple she knew they could have been.

He remained silent, looking down at the table before standing and rezching his hand out “would you like to dance?”

She was shocked, not once in his life had Aemond asked her to dance, he despised it, would do everything to avoid the act, so the shock on her face wqas hard to disguise, as she nodded her head and accepted the outstretched hand.

“You hate dancing” she mubled, as his hand descended to her waist, their hands outstretched.

“ i do” he nodded, before pulling her closes, and sniffing her hair.

Gods if only she knew, knew that he only did those things so that he was always on her mind, as she was on his. “ and yet its the only way i can get this lcose to you before we are wed.”

She jolted back, not enough to worry onlookers, but enough to cause Aemond huff, and pull her even closer.

“What?!” she hissed “ you hate me?!”

“I never said that” he spoke truthfully.

She huffed “no, but it was heavily inplised” she sneered, “what were all of those-thoose…you were a bully for all thoose years, you ignroed, me berated me… called me” she looked around before whispering “my lady strong-”

“That's because you are, my..lady..strong, you are a strong and you are mine. Your mother made you a bastard but she also made you mine.”

“YOU-” she said, a little too loudly, “you are mad”

“The best targeryens are” he replied, “i want you, i need you, i always have and always will. I just liked to play with you a little” he msiked, “ and in seven days i get to play with you even more”

The song ended, and Aemond went to sit down. Leaving Aemma all the more confused. Just how he liked it.

Later that night Aemma sat alone in her chambers, her ladies having just left to retrie. Her conversatiuon with Aemond replaying over and over in her head.

She had always been a little slow, always compared to her great grandmother Daella. She was always called naive and had things dumbed down. And Aemond had always liked that she supposed. When they were younger he had always liked to dumb things down for her, even if she understood, making her reliant on him. She would stop thinking, stop wanting to understand things for herselves, because Aemond had made her believe he would do it for her. But she didn't know that, she overtime just started to think perhaps everyone was right, she was slow and needed the extra help. The help Aemond always amde surehe was giving her, even when she thought he hated her, he still did it. He had made her entirely reliant on him, and she would never know.

“Aemma?” she heard someone whisper, unsure of where it was coming from.

“My lady strong?” the voice almost taunted.

“Hello?” she called out, standing up to look around “who's there?”. Aemond stepped out of the shadwos, causing her to jump “Aemond? What are you doing her” she asked, hand on her heart, and taking a deep breath.

“Too see you, my bethrothed.”

“We-we can..cannot be alone together until the wedding night..you should go” reaching for her seven pointed star pendant.

“I should, but we should also talk.” she sat down on her bed, reaching for her and pulling her down next to him.

“yes, yes i suppose so” she agreed, nodding her head, hand still wrapped around the pendant.

He smiled, not the cold one she was used to, but a warm one, one she had longed to see again (not that she would admit it) “good” he moved closer, his hand reaching to stroke her cheek.

That night they talked, it felt liek the old days, when they were the closest of friends. When they were envied by all for how close they were. It was like they were children again, and it made Aemmas heart skip a beat.

The next day at breakfast, her ladies were told what had happen, with Cassandra shaking her head, “no! We hate him, hes a bully,”

“Yes but he is also to be her husband, they should be close” said Cersci.

Clapping her hands, Cerelle agreed “oh its perfect, hes obsessed with you! After this we should go to his chambers and you two can go on a walk through the gardens, and have a picnic” she gusehd, grasping Aemmas hand.

Cassandra huffed “he has been nothing but cruel to her, and all of a sudden we love him? No its one of his games, hes taunting you”

“No” Aemma shook her, “no, hes changed, last night it was like we were the old Aemond and Aemma, before driftamark. He cant be-he-” she shook her head, her head dropping. “ its too cruel, even for Aemond. Why would he wish to strat a marriage based on a cruel game?”

“Beacuse hes mad!”

The ladies at the table all gasped at cassandra.

“What? He is, everyone can see that! He lost his sanity alongside his eye-”

Aemma slapped her arm “ Cassie! Dont say that, you werent there, that night was horrible!” she sighed, “ all know is that this is the start of something, we could be civil. Our marriage was meant to ease the conflict in our familes, and we agreed to try, and just let me be a little delcusional please” she laughed, “you all are!” causing the ladies to huff, “i mean it, like Maergret batting here eyes at Daeron verytime he visits and he doesnt even glance your way and he calls you Mary! And Rosia, Cregan Stark? We met him once and you have not stopped obsessing over him, not to mention he had a wife when we met him. And Cassie, lord Redwyne?” she gave her a look, “and dont get my started on you Cerelle and Cersci, i may be slow but dont think i havnet noticed to two of you!” she taunted, “let me think there might be a chance, please, and who knows you may be right, but either way in a week i will married, and he will be my husband. Whether we like him or not!”

Aemond thought she mad, not as mad as he, but as he watched her, sat in the gardens, as he hid behind a rose bush. One night of his undivided attention on her and she, well it was playing out perfectly. The games he had been playing fro years. The constant thought of eachtother on the others mind, the way he taunted her, made her beg fro his attention. Allowing one night of undivided attention to make her think they would be them old selves again. The old Aemma and Aemond. The Aemond who would slaughter the whole of Westros for her, the Aemma who believed very word he said and relied on him to do everything for her. The Aemma who when it came to the inevitable war would believe her mother had hated her, forgotten her, and that he was the only one who loved her.

It was fun to taunt her, yes. But he loves her, always has, but he supposes the rumors at court were right, perphas all his sanity was in the eye stolen from him.

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

My lady strong: @aemondssiut@idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyya @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aelora-a @aleemendoza2425-blog @chittakii @gghoulzz @ryiana @duckworthbean @cynic-spirit @may-machin @Gianinaa19 @wolfiealina @unique7676 @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew

Hotd: @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @flrboyd @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

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thisdoodler · 5 months

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Things from the most unhinged fanfic I’ve ever read (yes it was a yandere x y/n)

-The fic was yandere Disney characters x reader. All of the Disney characters were men.

-Mickey Mouse is characterized as a mafia boss.

-The fairy godfather, Peter Pan, and Adrian Agreste (yes that one) are canonically the same person.

-On that same note, the MC friendzones Adrian, and that is how we find out his name is Adrian Agreste.

-Cinderella’s Masc name is Ellard or Cinderellard.

-That one scene where The Evil King’s (Evil Queen’s) mirror turns into a human just to tell the evil king that if he wants to be immortal he needs to uh ✨do✨ the Mc. The mirror is then promptly turned back into a mirror. It never turns into a human again.

-During this scene the Evil King claims that sleeping with a woman before marriage is sinful so they need to get married. The MC promptly points out that bathing in the blood of beautiful women isn’t very holy either.

-I’m like 90% sure that Prince Charming and Ellard are in a relationship.

-Yes both of these characters are love interests. They search for the MC together and are never seen apart from each other after they meet.

-MC and Maleficant have an on and off relationship and in the sequel (because there’s a sequel) they adopt human!shapeshifter! Toothless as their son

-There’s one scene where Ariel crashes the MC’s and Snow White’s marriage, where all of the other yanderes are, and says he objects to the marriage because they are mates. He is then never seen again.

-You cannot convince me that this author does not have a degradation kink. I have read 2 other books of theirs. All of them have pretty much all of the love interests insulting the MC constantly.

Anyway, 10/10 Experience, I have never been more entertained in my life. I can, would, and will be doing this again.

I may or may not do posts about their other fics, this is just the longest and most unhinged one I’ve read from them. I will also probably be adding more to this list as this is all off the top of my head and there’s probably more.

Note: If you try to find the fic, please know that there’s a lot of slut shaming (even though the Mc never sleeps with anyone) and there’s an attempted SA in like the second chapter. The fic does not properly warn readers about this so if you want to read it, do so at your own risk.

#fanfiction #Disney #disney x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #Wattpad #because of course it’s from Wattpad #yandere disney #By the way #Mob boss Mickey is in cahoots with your dad #aka the male version of Alice from alive and wonderland #I’d also like to mention that shapeshifter toothless is an adult when you first meet him in the story #Maleficant just turns him into a child when he gets you back to the Disney dimension from the how to train your dragon dimension

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dragons-and-handcuffs · 7 months

Note

Poor Royce!Reader...

She was raised in the Vale with her mother Rhea, Daemon was never around and she rarely visited Kings Landing. She had little to no Valyrian influences growing up. Imagine how horrified was learning she was to marry her own uncle Viserys... Never mind the fact he stole her purity and impregnated her!

He knows how she feels about the incest. Her distinctly non-Targaryen views on the matter. And frankly, he gets off on it!

He loves to whisper in her ear that she's such a good niece, taking his cock in her tight little cunny. How he's so proud that she's carrying her uncle's baby inside of her, all while creampieing her for the second time that night.

He loves seeing her desperately trying not to moan or cum as he says these to her. His favorite time was when she was red in the face, biting into the pillow desperately trying not to moan when he joked about her being pregnant with her future cousin...

Viserys rarely calls you his wife. He will always address you as his niece. It's an insult to your non Targaryen beliefs and also reminds you how he uses you

He will edge you till you call him uncle and beg him to let you cum

"You look beautiful with your uncle's cock inside you."

"Cum for your uncle."

"You were also meant to carry your uncle's seed and give birth to your cousins."

If you are trying to control your moans and feeling embarrassed he will thrust his cock deep and hard that will make you lose control.

He will force you to look in the mirror as he takes you from behind, telling you how beautiful you look with your uncle. You are ashamed that the humiliation instantly made you cum

After fucking you everytime he will order you to stay in bed with his cum overflowing your holes. You are not allowed to touch yourself or close your legs. He loves this view, especially with how ashamed you are.

He will order the strongest fertility tonic for you and make you drink it and soon you are pregnant again.

And since you are so ashamed of the Targaryen traditions he will fill the walls of your rooms with those Targ in**st paintings.

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daemontargaryenwhore · 7 months

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it looked like that punch took all his strength how is his mother not embarrassed Harwin is rolling in the dust

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del-thetiredwriter · 1 year

Text

Saintess of dragons part 2

Part 1

Warnings: major character death,not really dark themes , my bad writing

English is my second language

Gif is not mine

"What are you doing?" Helaena asked . The two of you were sitting outside the training ground. It was one of the rare times you didn't spend your time in your study room. The boys had insisted that you watch them during their sword practice.

"I'm checking my notes" You answered. You've been restless since you saw Laena at the celebrations. She was going to die soon—which she didn't even know about. You had to make a decision until Laena's funeral, a decision you hadn't been able to make for 11 years. You were either going to save everyone and change the future , or you were going to choose the original future, the future where everyone died.

“Why do you always take notes or check your notes?” Helaena asked innocently. You lifted your eyes from your notes and looked at Helaena. You swallowed. "Because I don't want to forget." You answered. You didn't want to forget: your past, your family, your friends, your life 11 years ago.

You looked into Helaena's lilac eyes, innocent but equally frightening eyes, those eyes that seemed to understanding what you were saying.

Helaena was about to ask another question but Aegon and the others came running up to you.

“I won Y/n. I won the fight." said Aegon excitedly. He was looking at you with eyes waiting for you to praise him. Jace sighed, unable to accept his loss. Aemond and Luke were waiting for you to take care of them. You smiled and congratulated Aegon.

“You're just going to congratulate me. As a winner, I deserve an award.” Aegon said .

“A reward? What do you want?” you said.

"to be my wife," said Aegon. Aemond and Helaena waited for your reaction as Jace and Luke objected to Aegon's offer.

“Unfortunately, I must say that this will not be possible, my prince. I don't want marriage or anything like that, neither now nor in the future.”

You thought, 'If I get married, I can't return '.

Aegon seemed to protest, but could not insist any longer. He didn't want to make you angry.

⁎

You're back in your study room. You knew that Aegon loved you, but you didn't think it was enough to propose. You thought, 'It must be because he is still young, it's not serious'.

You looked at the notes on the table. You thought, 'I have to make a decision’. It was like a dream to open your eyes in the series you love 11 years ago. Seeing and talking to your favorite characters live. It looked great at first, because you knew the future, you could change the future and give everyone a happy ending and stop the war.

You tried and you paid the price. The slightest change was causing you to gradually forget your past. You were afraid of forgetting your family, your life, what you knew, so you withdrew. As time passed, you realized that you were not getting old. This scared you even more.

The whole room was covered with charts, notes and paintings you had drawn. Everything was to remember and to return. If it weren't for these paintings and notes, you'd have forgotten your past. You looked at the picture in which you drew a happy moment with your family in your most recent work. You thought, 'Everything will be fine'.

⁎

There were screams. When you looked around, everything was on fire. Kingslanding was on fire. A silhouette was coming towards you through the fires, Laena. She was wearing a blue bloody dress.

“Laena. I- you- why? “You said hesitantly.

Laena just looked at you sadly and smiled.

She said "You could save me but you didn't"

“Laena I-” you swallowed.

"You were afraid. But you are the reason why everything is covered with fire and blood right now,” she said, pointing around.

“You didn't save me, you didn't save them, you couldn't save us. You left us to our fate,” Laena continued.

“Us?” You said

“Yes, us.” Said Laena

Then came the screams from below. Voices of familiar people. Rhaenyra, Helaena, Lucerys… others. They were all bleeding under your feet, begging you, pulling you towards them.

“Laena I-!”

“Make your decision before it's too late! Please,” Laena said. While you're being pulled down.

⁎

“Laena!” You Looked around. You were in your room. It was just a dream, a nightmare. The door knocked .

"Come"

A maid hurried in.

“Forgive me my lady, but I have news”

Your eyes widened with fear when you heard the news. Laena has died .

#yandere hotd #dark hotd #hotd fanfic #yandere house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon x reader #yandere house targaryen #house of dragon fanfiction #aegon x y/n #yandere aegon targaryen #dark jacaerys velaryon #helaena x reader #lucerys x reader #dark aemond #yandere aemond

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themotherofblood · 11 months

Note

Hey love! Can i request a rough sex with Daemon and reader .. like he had an argument with Rhaenyra so he takes it out on ms blood bag👀

absolutely, yes!!

masterlist | Bloody Baby Series | Vampire AU

warnings: major smut warning, dubcon headed to noncon, rough, blood drinking, broken bones, aftercare(if you ever consider it in a dubcon situation) mean!daemon eventual softie! daemon. this is also dark? I suck at tagging so I’m sorry

“hobres ao,” Rhaenyra exclaims at Daemon as she shucks as vase at his head, seething red hot anger from every pore. Over a millennia gone and yet the irrationality of hers never once dwindled. Fuck you

Daemon glared at her, teeth bared and ready to stop her from leaving this room. He was older than her, stronger than her. She would risk all that their identity was built upon for this. “We have been looking for over a century Daemon!” Her eyes watered with the thought their blood, her bloodline still living on, breathing fire into the mother that she once was.

“Rhaenyra— my love, knowing us will only endanger them more.” Daemon reasoned, hoping to sway her to leave them alone. Daemon had known all along, having found Baela’s bloodline in 432 AC, the Faith, all too knowing of their kind burned the one family he found.” The world ever changed and growing still, the knowledge of their existence a mere myth, a history watered down over generations. Such power was a farce, and the lived content knowing so.

“The Faith will burn them if you do not eat them first,” he barked. This time Rhaenyra was pissed, she took a deep breath— masking her surrender before whooshing towards Daemon and twisting his neck. He fell to the floor with a thud, Rhaenyra knew he was right, she was too proud to admit it. Years spent chasing the hidden Guild of the Faith, and watching just one Hightower spawn grow their family for decades. Only to slaughter them like pigs, leaving just one alive every time.

Daemon’s bones soon healed, he groaned. Shaking his head, willing away the pain as anger filled him this time. Rhaenyra long gone as he angrily stood to his feet, ready to go after her as he reached for his phone on the table. A text from his wife already docked on his screen. “I won’t visit them.”

Though the text should have soothed his bubbling ire, it didn’t. She fucking broke his neck and left him here on the floor. He needed blood, his head still pounding from his healing injury, not quick enough he groaned. He would have headed for the long fridges in the kitchen, stacked with bags and bags of blood from people of all ilks but he, no he craved something warmer. His teeth craved to sink into soft flesh, feel his prey thrash underneath him.

The stroke of midnight, a distant clock singing away the time as he climbed the steps to your bedroom. Prepared throughly for their little capture from the party, they hadn’t broken you yet, which was surprising. It had been a month. Something about the glint in your eyes just bubbled soften into bodies when they weren’t collectively violating you or having their dessert.

You lay asleep in your giant poster bed, cuddled and warm under the heavy duvet, a book laying idly by the other pillow as your chest rose and fell. He could hear the calm thudding of your heart, the blood under your skin and small gasp like breaths from your parted lips.

He shuffled onto the side of your bed, lifting the book away from your pillow. You stir, whimpering into the sheet as his heavy hands stroke at your hip. You flutter your eyes open as you sense his presence, you know it is him. Rhaenyra never wakes you so, it is always her lips you feel upon your temple, every morning.

When you open your eyes the room is still dark, bed curtains pulled and the moon high in the air, you frown, bottom lip jutting out “Daemon? Are you hungry?” you whisper, cuddling further into the sheets. He nods, his ominous figure still a shadowy silhouette sat next to you. You lift out your wrist from under the covers, offering him your hand as your eyes closed once more. You had gotten used to sting from when they fed from your wrist. The pain in your jugular and inner thighs still unbearable but for whatever reason you let them.

He grunts, flicking the bed side lamp on. You silently gasped the second you saw his face, eyes darkened as the veins around them popped out. He wasn’t here to leisurely drink from you, that was sure. “Daemon?” You asked once more and then squealed as he tore the blankets away from your body. The cool air of the room prickling your skin to goosebumps.

“I am hungry for something far more than blood,” he hissed as he pries you legs apart, your bare cunt just greeting him, ready to be fucked raw.

His nose wantonly took a waft from your cunny, before growling at the back of his throat and devouring the taste of you. His nose nudging at the hood of your clit as your back arched. More than he loved feasting on your sweet coppery blood, he loved this cunt. How it always swelled to his attention, the adorable bud peaking through it hood, begging him to graze his fangs upon it. The shudders and squeals it can elicit from you, though any other day he could spend hours, kissing and licking you away.

Today he was in no mood, he knew it pained you so, he wanted hear that pretty cry of his name. “Daemon!” you cried, the harsh sting radiating from your thigh as he sung his teeth deep into the supple flesh of your inner thigh, groaning as his craving graced the actual taste of you.

He unlatched, flipping you over as the open wound dripped onto the sheets. His hand immediately laying sharp slaps on your ass as he pulls you up by the hair. There— there it was, the hammering of your heart inside your chest, the arc of your back giving him a good view of your neck and that pulsing spot, calling to him, seducing him.

He undid his pants, sliding away his leather belt and wrapping it around your neck. He tightened the buckle, uncomfortably wrapped onto your slender neck. You gasped for air as the pressure of the blood started to make your ears ring. Daemon plunged his cock into you without a warning, hammering away his frustrations with his cock. One hand held firmly at your pelvis and the other holding your jaw. The harsh slaps of your hips meeting echoed through the room.

“D-daddy,” you gasped, Daemon smirked still pounding away, obident little pet of his, just as he commanded you weeks before, you keep his name— he would rather hear the “your grace” or “my prince” yelp from your mouth but that part of Daemon has laid dormant for over five hundred years. Plus it’s all the rage within the youth these day, he likes the sound of it, daddy, kepa—he would teach you soon.

“My little fuck pet aren’t you? Even when I do such horrible things to you,” his hold on your jaw loosened to lay a sharp slap on your cheek “huh? Just a broken slut, begging to be used.” he growled against your ear “my whore.”

The words modern to his tongue but his whore, he thought of Rhaenyra. Just as he fucked his ire into you, his body brought him back to the brothel’s of King’s Landing, his family, his children— gone. Cursed to out live everyone, even a pretty poppet like you. His hand ventured lower, laying three sharp smack onto your unsheathed clit. You wail, cry pretty girl. He was an ugly, violent man then and he is far worse now—breaking away yet another cunt, moulding it to his liking.

He was a predator and you his prized prey.

You nodded to his words, you were his. His whore, you were. Broken you were. Finding joy in something so violent, so ever-consuming you felt your pussy flutter, sobbing as you felt the bitter pinch of his finger upon your nipples as he tore the silk down from your torso. You babbled some nonsense to stir the bed play but you were too lost, fucked too small under his heavy hold.

Daemon still in another world, sweaty head rested upon your shoulder as he rutted into your hips, his eyes flickered upon. The sheets under you stained in the blood dripping from your thighs, your blood— his blood. His grip tightened, finding his bearing once more, he felt the flutter of your cunt as his finger worked swiftly against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“I better hear you beg, bunny. Cry louder,” he growled, knowing full well your orgasm pushed against its dams.

“Please,” you wheezed “please let me come daddy.”

“Louder!” He barked, a sharp, bruising smack against your ass

“Let me come please!” You screamed, praying he gives you his permission. Daemon slapped at your cunt.

“Go on, come from me slut,” he hissed, making your cry out as the pain of his stinging slaps mixed with the tingle of your orgasm. Your face covered in tears as you sobbed, your peak pushing through in waves.

Daemon once more sunk his teeth under his belt, that throbbing thud around your neck as you came undone. He wanted to feel it on his tongue, blood once more dripped down your torso as you screamed at the sting, reaching up to push away his head. Daemon caught a glimpse of the blood once more, not seductive, gore, the images flashing before his eyes as he drank from you.

His hold upon you had been so crushing, your yelps and hisses came to a sudden halt as a crunch echoed in his ears, and then your scream.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Daemon pulled away, his cock long spurted his cum into your cunt and creaming around the base of his cock. What he heard was worse as you fell forward crying out.

You cries of salacious agony turned fearful, he realized what he had done. He shook his head, looking over your body to see what exactly he broken with his crushing grip. You leaned to the left, hands trying to graze over your right. He broke your pelvic bone. He sighed, eyebrows scrunched, the violence long faded from his blood and replaced with guilt.

You cried harder as he turned you, he bit into his palm, letting his own blood trickle to the surface before pressing it against your lip, you groaned in distaste, getting fed on was one thing, feeding was another. Your teary eyes looked up at him as he coaxed the blood into your system.

The blood would do work its way to the injury as he had a servant draw a bath for you and prepare fresh pink sheets for your bed. You groaned as he readjusted your body and pressed his fingers against your pelvis, leading your hand to do the same as your yelped. You felt the bone realign with time within you. Your whimpers and mewls subsiding.

“I’m sorry, pet.” He pressed kisses to the side of your head before scooping you up effortlessly to deposit you in the blue bath waters, a fizzing bath bomb colouring the water as he sunk in along with you.

You couldn’t understand it, the fear, for there was none. You felt them countless times, Daemon nearly choking the light away from your eyes or Rhaenyra sucking your blood dry. You pouted “Daddy?”

Daemon let out a soft sigh, seeing as though you were still in your fucked daze, Daemon, I’m Daemon pet he wanted to say, you however needed your time. Instead he hummed as a reply.

“D- did you and mommy compel me?” you whispered, fingers dancing against the rim of the tub.

“For what?” He whispered against your ear.

“I’m not scared, so either you compelled me or I’m stupid.” you hummed, finding an idle entertainment in twisting the signet ring on Daemon’s left small finger.

“I’m afraid it might me the latter darling,” he hummed apologetically.

They did compel you, thinking they’d enjoy the hunt of breaking you into a perfect pet and here you were willing curled against him. The compelled you, to never leave the palace. Watching your torn face as you stood on the grass with the main gates open wide, you couldn’t walk out no matter how much you might ever want to.

Daemon kissed your shoulder, coaxing the life back into you as the last of your pain subsided. He rubbed your dry before helping you dress in another night gown before tucking you under the fresh sheets. Your head rested on his shoulder, you knew they never slept, they sat there all night with one another as you dozed in between them.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled sleepily.

Daemon was about to ask why.

“For what they did to you, to Rhaenyra.”

Ahh I typed this in one go at 4am, this is not proof read, I hate proof reading (I’m sorry not sorry) hope you enjoyed. Again I’m taking requests for this au, this au will be a weird mix of dark and lovely. Idk how to describe it. Anyways.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #daemyra vampire au #vampire au

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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

Text

Letters Perished in Dried Ink (18+)

Pairing: Aemond x Reader;

Warnings: vivid descriptions of male masurbation, slight angst, a lot of lousy grandpas who have and will continue to butt into your situationship with Aemond;

Word Count: 6.5k;

Author's Note: I struggled with major writer's block this month. I suppose it happens to the best of us :") While I'm still working on the three fics I promised you guys, have this tiny one-shot to make up for the lack of updates ♡

I tried to be poetic. Alas, I miserably failed. See you in the next update (which is going to hopefully present much better)!

How could a misunderstanding ruin everything seven years of love has built?

Her steady hand reached for the quill, and the girl settled her feather over the small and modest piece of paper. For two, mayhaps three seconds she paused, thinking well on what she would like most adherently to convey.

Her eyes glossed over with the swirl of mischief, and the Lady smiled to herself, while expelling a tantalising and brisk breath.

To my dearest, Aemond

While I was afraid that my time in King’s Landing would change the perception I had of my homeland, I must admit that I was wrong. I might push as far as to say that everything remains the same; not a change since I last saw it. My chamber, with the dolls I left on the goose-stuffed pillows, the training grounds – none the grander as the ones in the Red Keep, mind you –, and the large halls of Riverrun… all seemingly frozen in place.

Albeit the doors feel smaller now, and I can reach without the help of a stool where I once could not, I find that I am underwhelmed, and dangerously melancholic over the time I spent in your company, which accounted for so much of my early girlhood.

Grandfather has taken to my return quite well. He is still bedridden, but somehow more vivacious that his blood is nearer yet.

I look at the portraits that adorn the walls of our darkened castle, and sometimes think back to my elder brothers. I think grandfather does so, as well.

But such terrible quarrels have no place in my dull writings! This new life isn’t as tedious as I make it out to be. I was acquainted with my Septa, though much of my education will be taken care of by grandsire now. Yesterday I walked the grounds for hours on end, and managed to spot some old and familiar faces. I had forgotten how kind the riverlords can be.

One thing that must be noted – and recognised as drastically peculiar – is how quiet it is here. Naturally, there is no active Court to gossip and flaunt back their wealth and actions.

You would like it here.

And I’ll say this much: I’d like it better if you were here, too.

I end my musings with burning questions, that you simply must answer in your next correspondence:

First and foremost, how have you been? Secondly, how are our good Queen and King? Word reached the Trident that your father’s fallen sick, and so I pray piously without stray that he recovers well and quickly. Thirdly, how is sweet Helaena fairing? Last I heard of her, the babe was close to being born.

I readily await for your reply, and urge you to make haste with it!

Until then I remain, as always,

Your inquisitive and loyal friend

His eye trails over the slight curve of her writing. And the Prince catches himself smiling, humming in admission at her carefully picked-out words.

He notices, with great perplexion, that despite his hardest efforts of stifling such impropriety, the ache inside his chest arouses. His heartbeat hammers out of him, granting a slight tremor in his lax and calloused hand.

And he stands this way, hovering over the pristine parchment, whilst bringing his hand out to pinch the bridge of his nose – rub his throbbing blinder with the back end of his hand. His broad chest heaves with every laboured exhale, and Aemond sighs with proper longing.

To my good friend,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, and in higher spirits than the day you wrote to me. It is very unlike you to barely fill a page. I expect your next communication to hold greater details of your life in the Riverlands.

King’s Landing is the same as you remember. Smells like shit and feels like shit, especially now, as I'm denied from the raptures of your company.

My routine too, remains identical. I am seated next to Aegon when we break fast as of late, and I must stress how greatly I preferred my view beforehand.

I report with great sorrow that hardly any intelligent conversation has been had since your swift departure. I'm left longing at the dinner table, for your calculated thoughts, for your sweet melodic voice, and for our elbows to be lightly touching.

Mother is overwhelmed with higher duties of the Court. I try to help her as best I can, with whatever tasks she may yet entrust me with. I lack the patience to sit idly, and so I’ve taken to Aegon’s share of duties. I fulfil them better than he ever could, and the exercise proves itself useful: for I scarcely find the time to think of you throughout the day.

The nights and morrows are harder yet, as my thoughts reach out to you, wondering helplessly how you spend your better days, so painfully far from me.

A dozen maesters tend to Viserys, each saying he will get better as time has its murky say. Yet ‘til that “eventual better” makes itself known to us all, he nurses his body with milk of the poppy, and lets mother do all his work.

Helaena is well. She dreamt the babe would be a boy, and already settled on a name for him. She wishes to call him Maelor, something that hasn’t been rebuked by Aegon.

She misses you greatly. As do I.

As does Vhagar.

The Red Keep feels empty without your fits of laughter.

Beckon your reply quickly.

Your most dutiful servant,

Aemond

A little over a week had passed since his Lady’s last reply. One week and four full days, to be exact... though Aemond would never own up to counting.

His sour mood grew to exceed all expectations, and the Prince bit his tongue through most of dinner, barely uttering a single word. His quiet nature wasn’t something to be troubled of, but even his drunk-out-of-his-mind brother noticed something had been irking him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so brooding, brother.” Aegon voiced out his concern, after another hefty gulp of alcohol. An impish grin spread across his puffy face, and Viserys’ first-born son leaned over in his chair to soothe him. “Am I right to assume that this has something to do with the lack of reply from a certain lady of the Riverlands?”

A low growl etched from deep within the youth’s throat. Aemond regarded Aegon with a cutting look, and extended his arm forward to grip the base of the wine pouch. He took a moment to ponder on the gaucherie of getting drunk, but settled on thrusting himself to the momentary relief that a hazy mind could offer.

Briskly, he took a swing of the burning liquor, and disregarded the way in which his mother absent-mindedly glared at him.

A loud snicker echoed through the quiet room, and Aegon clasped his hands together, pouting acutely at his brother's actions. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

A knot of heartfelt disregard tightened in Aemond’s throat, and his fist clenched painfully right above the wooden table. His free hand gripped the handle of the knife with a knowledge untoward, and the Prince shared a look with his elder brother, while rotating the blade about.

“Careful, Aegon. There are plenty of sharp objects around this table. And you haven’t been spotted in the training yard for quite some time."

His purple eyes widened to rounded specs of unreliant fear. Still he put on a lazy smile, and merely shrugged his shoulders. Aegon’s mouth opened again, threatening to spew out words that would grant no happy ending to their cosy dinnertime.

Eventually, it was Alicent’s glacial tone that interrupted their clash of wits.

“Boys,” She warned them both, not even bothering to look at them, “That is enough.”

Aegon’s mouth slouched childishly, and the man scoffed in rebuttal, while pointing at his rowdy sibling. “I was merely expressing my concern for Aemond, mother. He’s been very affected, now that his lady love abandoned him.”

Immediately Aemond rebuked his cutlery, and in the span of a single second, the Prince latched onto his berating brother. A dangerous look drew across his Targaryen features, making them all the sharper and unforgiving. Woefully he gripped his collar, hoisting him off the ground with an unnatural and vexing ease, and settled on squeezing Aegon’s gorget as he muttered to him darkly. “Either keep quiet on your own accord, or I’ll gladly silence you.”

Four white cloaks swarmed around them, and Otto Hightower nearly screamed, but the brawl reached an early end as the elder nodded rapidly at Aemond, and the latter loosened the hold he had over his bouchered vest.

“Seven Hells…” Aegon had cursed, mumbling lowly whilst feeling his neck for any sores, “Didn’t know it was such a delicate subject.”

Throwing a jaded look around the table, the One-Eyed Prince clenched his jaw.

He frowned deeply, and let out a tired hum at the notion of his sister’s face, so shocked and confused by his sudden outburst. As he felt his own grow numb, no doubt reddened by the scene he’d single-handedly played out, Aemond’s lips pursed to a tight, embarrassed line.

Whilst his hands itched him in shame, and his eye desperately avoided his mother’s, the young man instead focused on the erotic tapestries that adorned the stone-hedged walls.

His lone orb remained fixated on their arched positions, but, as his brother laughed again, Aemond begrudgingly returned his stare.

“Pardon me.” He muttered coldly, whilst giving a slight bow to the silent gathering, and, with one elegant but hurried movement, grabbed the full cask of wine, as he turned tautly to retreat to his chambers.

He swallowed thickly at his swift undoing, and chastised himself for losing touch with what was proper and allowed. His long fingers clasped painfully behind his back, digging at the flesh of his calloused palms, making him click his tongue in disarray; he notices, mayhaps too late, that all his blood had run elsewhere – thus the man takes wider steps to reach the confinements of his room, and lets out a choked-out breath, as the clogged air of his chamber finally hits his nose.

Methodical, aware and present, he sets the wine aside from him, pouring himself a generous cup, and fiddles with the expensive sheets that lay across his wooden table. His hand stumbles over the ink bottle, and the Prince levels out his rapid breathing, preparing himself to write again.

To My Lady,

A gulp of the liquid courage is all he needs to decidedly settle his red feather over the wilted paper.

Your lack of response to my latest confession irks me to no bitter end. I am a patient man, but I will not be denied entrance to your life. I will not have you refuse me the candour of communication.

Not when I spent my entire life waiting submissively by your side.

If your perpetual silence is owed to something I said, or something you’ve heard about me, I demand that you scorn me for it. Write a lengthy paragraph of all my near and far shortcomings, as you so often did when we were children. I promise to make a praying altar of that letter, grovel over it and at your feet, until my indiscretion should be forgiven.

Do not attempt to drive me away with petty ignoring. Such a feat is beneath you.

Another gulp of bitter wine is what allows his hand to flow more freely.

I confess that days and nights I have spent laying restlessly in bed, praying to the Seven to grant me passage to a single thought of yours. I ached to hear your words and feel your voice touch me so deeply. I am afraid I became brazen and unkind in the tortures of your absence.

I lest conclude that this should be a leisure letter to write – words should come easily, and in short, it should be simple for me to tell you how desperately happy I was to open your communication, and see your sweet and narrow writing.

Aemond halts his hurried musings, and encouraged by the hotness of the room, thinks back on the sinful indulgence he’d committed with her letter.

How he kissed over the parchment a million times thereafter, and how he licked at its bent corners, shuddering at the thought that her hand had ghosted over – perhaps even rested on – the marginal and flimsy paper.

He abjures his thoughts to the back of his mind, and lets out a low curse at the throb that forms over his missing eye.

A Prince should never bow, nor beg, nor relent. Yet here I stand, forever obediently at your beck and call, begging you to write again.

His patch fell heavily upon his skin. The nerves of his face stung the stimulated bit of skin, and Aemond huffed out an exacerbated breath, as he decidedly yanked the blinder away from his handsome face.

My duties at Court make it such that it is impossible for me to leave the proximities of King’s Landing. But should you make the mistake of not replying to me again, I’ll have no choice but to mount Vhagar and fly over to you myself.

… So reign your anger on me, should you need to. And just grant me with a quick reply.

Aemond.

Not even bothering to read it over, the man reached for the stamp she gifted him, inspecting its sapphire hilt with a scorned look over his face, and an angry furrow to his brow. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, as he passively set the hilt aside.

His next movements were slow, methodical – Aemond folded the paper in half, and poured the hot wax over it; grabbing the stamp, and lowering it on the paper, allowing the Targaryen seal to leave its mundane mark behind.

Harsh thoughts swirled inside his head, and the Prince lowered the parchment, promising to send word out on the morrow, and personally deliver his Lady the much-improved, insistent letter.

‘The best of friends for seven years,’ he scoffed bitterly to himself, recalling the oath they’d made each other.

He wouldn’t allow her to walk away. He wouldn’t allow her to forget about him. And he would force her to look at him, and explain the means of her reaping silence.

The gentle rays of morning wash themselves over his handsome features. The heatwaves of summer lick over his translucent skin, and the golden rays of daybreak thread themselves into his silver hair.

Aemond groaned in roaring anguish, as he ran a calloused hand up and over his throbbing cheek.

The discarded eyepatch, now resting on the floor. The littered parchments, still laying on his table. The lone letter, which had been written so angrily, just to be resentfully abandoned as his ire simmered down the night before.

Each object served as a dull and pained reminder of his lack of princely conduct, of the effects of the wine… of her brazen and determined silence.

The Prince bit over his lower lip, and fluttered his eyelid tightly shut. Enwrapped in his fine silks, and under the comforts of his chambers, he allowed his mind to lead to her again. To the image of her sprawled-out form, waiting for him inside his bed.

He sighs deeply, and questions his sanity – or lack thereof –, his patience, his virtue. What he wrote in his confessions was the fair and honest truth – In the few moments of solitude that he grantedly took for himself, the riverlander scarcely ever left his thoughts.

Aemond writhed into the mattress, and peeled the cover away from his heated body. He needn’t have looked down upon him to see the quaint trailing effect that his friend had had on him; but he did, and in the process, hastily pulled his throbbing cock out of his breeches, to begin to pump himself – mayhaps relieve the stress and anger that ruled over his very being.

A tender hiss escaped his lips, as his movements sped up in pace. The Crown Prince bit over his lower lip, and a shaky hand came to rest over his parted mouth, to dull the shameful and alluding sounds that escaped his burning throat.

He ran his thumb over the leaking tip, gathering up his seed in singular and striking swipes, guiding the clear droplets of liquid to trail towards his aching stones, and coat over his impressive length.

A low grunt slipped past his hand, and Aemond sank his teeth into the tender flesh, stifling down any further moan or laboured breath.

"F-Fuck… my Lady…"

His back shuddered from the blinding pleasure, and his free hand came to rummage under his pillows in the most desperate of searches.

His eye opened but for a moment, as his digits grazed the bent edges of the first letter she'd addressed him – the one he'd cherished with ample reverence, and secretly carried with him to every place he went.

His lilac orb trailed over the contents of the wilting parchment, which by then he knew by heart, but stopped at the very beginning of her scattered and bereft writing.

'To my dearest, Aemond' – either by crude mistake or heinous design, she'd flicked her wrist right after dearest, drawing out a bold and elongated pause, that hence consumed his wakened days.

It must have taken her no more than seconds to descend her quill upon the page, yet for Aemond, the mundane piece of calligraphy became his most burdensome slither of hope.

Before he could catch himself in his lustful daze, the Prince brought the letter to his lips, and kissed over the dried ink with devotion untoward, accelerating his ministrations as he pressed into it harder.

He pictured her alone and writing, enraptured by the dead of night, dressed up in her modest nightdress, and her hair loose from her bun. She must have made some able pauses, to glance up at the moon, perhaps, or sigh in puckered concentration.

Had she shared with him everything that was on her mind back then? Or did she hold her secrets in, choosing instead to only hint at all that they had left unspoken?

Did she also think of him, as he nightly thought of her, and in her attempts to clear her head, brought her hand out to her ruddy pearl? And did she dare to rub it gently as sinful fantasies of him emerged?

Did he plague her every thought – visited them, at the very least, nestling inside her mind, as she so oftenly did to him?

His unanswered plethora of questions only fed into his fire. His hips began to move languidly against his hand, and the familiar licks of release beckoned in his tired loins. But fucking his hand would never come close to how he envisioned fucking her would be like. How tight and welcoming her cunt must be, how she herself was so untouched, so pure, unaware of the pleasures he alone could make her go through.

How breathlessly she’d gasp against him, and leave her lascivious mark over his skin, in the form of clawed-out patterns, adorning his pale and muscled back. He would return her favour in kind, pressing himself deeper inside her, molding her warmth to the shape of his cock, leaving bruising kisses over her breasts and neck and claiming her – over and over, again and again.

His. His, his, his and his alone.

Propriety be damned, he’d have her. Ensure she’d never leave his bed thereafter.

She’d make for a fantastic mother, he caught himself thinking with abhorrence, and a new heat wave of pleasure enveloped his arched, unyielding back.

His despair reached new peaks of torture, as his mind led him to the memory of her crouching form, playing with Helaena’s twins, with such a pliant and kind smile upon her agonizing lips. How she’d chase them through the royal gardens, how the sun would catch her hair aflame…

Often during the long nights of winter, he’d shut himself inside his chambers, and touch himself repeatedly with the oils gifted from Aegon – with only that specific recollection playing tricks inside his mind.

Whilst elating her as his wife inside his head, the man slumped further into the bed, focusing on working his shaft up and down in blinding delight.

Her voice, her laughter, her handwriting and eyes – so wide and curious and always ready to look upon him, to really see him for who he was. She’d been the only one who never glanced directly at his scar. She’d focus in on his remaining eye, and listen to what he had to say. Intently. Remarkably so. She would remember his favourite book, the passages he’d read her last, and would partake in conversation – urging him to share his thoughts.

His climax neared him closer still, and Viserys’s second son focused on fucking his fist at a wilder pace than done before. Droplets of precum rolled down his cock, as forming sweat coated his brow. A final swipe of his rough thumb over the tip of his manhood, and a tender caress of his tightened stones was all it took for the man to drive himself over the edge, and feel the warmth inside his chest spread across his lower body.

He hissed painfully into the open letter, spending all over his chest and stomach and spilling her name from his parted lips.

He heaved out one breath after the other, and gingerly ran his hand over the written testament of her thoughts. He wanted to curse the Gods for making him so, for giving him the thirst for knowledge of a man fitting his station, but the crass bashfulness of a ruddy stable boy.

For the first time in his life, Aemond wished he were born different. A softer and more patient man, who’d find himself worthy of her; one more handsome, courageous and outspoken – a man who could express his feelings, without so much as a second thought, who didn't allow hesitation and carelessness to break his strengthened up resolve.

He ached to tell her all the things he’d left unsaid, when he saw her leave his sight. That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong – but not so wrong that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her. That without exactly meaning to, he’d begun to lean on her, to look for her, to need her near.

That love within him laced with doubt. Longing with predestined pain. That he prayed night after night, obsessively, tentatively, that she’d grant him passage into her life again – that whatever held her from speaking to him would absolve itself with time, and he’d finally be free again.

Free to love her from afar, to revel in the bottled hope she’d grant him with the lightest touch, the faintest smile, and the most mundane of glances.

To delve further into the sweet delusion that mayhaps she'd learn to love him. That somehow he’d be deemed to be enough.

As he stood there, unmoving in his very bed, his warm seed rolled off his stomach, staining onto the silken sheets. A long sigh escaped his lips, and Aemond propped himself onto his elbow, cleaning the mess he’d left behind.

His want for her ran hard and deep, and the Crown Prince tensed once more, feeling his stomach tighten in such familiar hot knots of pleasure, that his cock went stiff again. He hummed in admission of his solitary fate and reached for the sinful oils with a shaky and extended hand. Through the musings of a quiet moan, he aligned his hips to his waiting hand, preparing to grant himself the second peak of his cursed and debauchered morning.

Alas, a lacklustre knock put an end to his self-indulgence, and Aemond stifled back a groan. He swallowed up his lust with haste, pushing himself back into his linen breeches and off the ruined satin bed – running a hand through the forming mats of his silver hair, to make himself seem more presentable.

Frustration and madness welled up within him, but he merely sucked in an irritated breath, whilst grabbing forth a shirt to adequately front himself.

“Yes, what is it?” His shaky voice barks out for him. He listens intently for any noise outside his door, and a great displeasure settles in his gut, as the voice of a servant boy echoes through the quiet walls.

“A letter for you, Your Grace. I beg your pardon for disrupting you –”

Readily he jumps out of his bed. And as if burned, as if possessed, Aemond opens the door with a readiness unperturbed, descending his anger onto the poor, expecting boy. The letter rests upon a silver platter, shaken with the messenger’s panicked voice. The Tully emblem that seals over a vast calligraphy drives the Prince to the brink of hysteria, and the Targaryen grabs a hold of the boy’s bouched shirt, pushing him further down into the hall.

“When.” He questions breathlessly, “When did the letter arrive.”

“L-Last night, Your Grace – near the hour of the wolf –”

A feral scowl settles over his sharp features. Aemond takes a step forward, tightening his fist over the cheap material, and calmly professes to the whimpering boy.

“For waiting so long to bring it to me, I should have you flogged and executed.”

The child's blabbering reaches deafened ears, as Aemond reaches for the letter crassly presented to him, and offers the youth a pressing look.

“Get out of my sight, before I should make the call of feeding you to my dragon.”

A clumsy courtesy is followed by a tantalised “Your Grace”. The echo of footsteps gets lost through the depths of the narrow hallway, and the man hums absentmindedly, before shutting himself inside his room again.

He wants to rip the envelope in a violent and perusing fashion, but his first instinct is to trail over the paper gently, to run his digits where her hands had been, to touch the edges of her writings with such a desire to be close to her that it scared him.

In a slow and gentle act, he peeled her seal away from the pesky parchment, and sucked in a hectic breath, as he scanned the contents he’d so longly dreamt about.

His hope shattered as rapidly as it came. And Aemond nearly ripped the letter, as his heart clenched painfully inside his chest.

To Aemond,

I thought about what I might say, and word it out in such a way that won’t leave you perplexed or angered.

I think it’s best for us to move along, and stop with these childish musings, that have hence occupied our time since I moved from the Red Keep.

I will forever cherish our acquaintanceship and hold your friendship in the highest regard. But I am a woman grown now – you, a man in all his right –, and we must both start to think about the survival of our families.

Please do not send me any more letters, as I won’t reply to them, and focus instead on your best interests.

The Lady Tully of Riverrun

His feet carried him close to his bed, as he grabbed a hold of her first note. Desperately, he began searching for differences – in the means that it was written, in the handwriting he’s known since his early adolescence, in the marginal and flimsy paper.

The sting of rejection fell heavily over his shoulders, but rationale trumped his crushed spirits – for there must have been something, anything inside the new communication, that would explain its fabrication.

It was impossible those were her words. She’d never been a jousting woman – never regarded her tens of suitors as less than wanting, for the simple fact she didn’t desire them. She would have let him down more softly. She wouldn’t throw away his company.

Contentment can emerge in the quietness of separation, but their friendship endured years of scorn from the gossips of the Court. Her good opinion of him just couldn’t have changed so suddenly.

A final reach entered his mind, as he folded the paper roughly, and settled it atop his table.

If those were truly her words within that letter, and she wanted him to keep his distance, she’d have to tell him to his face.

More than a week had passed since she’d sent him her first letter. A week since she’d awaited his reply, inquiring every messenger within the castle on the arrival of a straying raven, all the way from the Red Keep.

In spite of her avid efforts, each day repeated the same encounter without so much of a hitch – the scrawny boys shaking their heads, as they ceaselessly informed her that nothing addressed to her has reached the tower of the West Wing.

Since then she’d sent out two more hurried manuscripts, despite never once being graced with a reply. All hope seemed lost when she’d woken up that very day and was still met with livid silence.

Through all their years of rapid friendship, Aemond had never ignored her so. As she cut into her plate, the Lady gnawed at her bottom lip, thinking hard on what possibly could have happened to make him turn so cold towards her.

If her status quo were any different, she’d have taken the Red Fork road on horseback, to reach King’s Landing, and confront her oldest friend on the reasons for his dreaded silence.

But her grandsire had fallen ill, and little to no progress was made on his state of brittle health. Her duty thus assigned her to the Riverlands, despite her need of seeing him.

“You have been very quiet, sweet girl.” The husky voice of Grover Tully echoed through the silent chamber. The girl’s cutlery stilled upon the half-full plate, and her eyes raised from her lap, clashing with the stilling blueness, the knowing assessment of his own.

“Apologies, grandfather,” She uttered rapidly with a forced smile upon her face, “My mind was otherwise engaged.”

“As it has been for the past week.” He concluded with a quirked-up brow. The softness in his gaze enveloped her, giving her a rapid sense of security, and her grandfather coughed in the back of his hand, drawing a pattern over the motifs of their tablecloth.

“I suppose I miss some aspects of King’s Landing. I have spent most of my youth there… – though the Riverlands are just as beautiful.” She was quick to intervene.

“Is King’s Landing all that you miss, or is it a certain boy from there?”

Her bright orbs widened with her grandfather’s suggestive tone, and her cheeks reddened in place, as her voice denied it brashly, “Certainly not, I – Aemond and I are friends.”

“It might seem like a long while has passed since then, but I’ve also been young once.”

When her reply was met with sarcasm, she swallowed thickly and drove on, “We are… really good friends, but that is all.” Once again, her stare dissolved, “Though… I’m not sure we’re exactly friends anymore.”

A knowing look adorned his face, and Grover turned his attention to the family crest above their heads. He took a while to pounder, thinking longly on a vast reply, but he eventually nodded to her, and graced the child with an unperturbed, brilliant smile. “I’m sure the Prince is very busy – as are you, my sweet child. Men, and young men especially…” He muttered the latter of his teachings, “Aren’t exactly prone to sentimentality. Not in the way that women are.”

Her lips pursed into a tight line, as his words rang in her ears.

But not Aemond, she wanted to say. He was hardly like the other men she knew – he could be kind and good and comforting. He cared for her, and for their friendship. He wouldn’t just ignore her, just for the sake of not being overly attached to writing.

Although she couldn’t possibly say such a thing – for then her grandsire’s teasing would have been a certain. The girl made herself busy cutting up a piece of meat in carefully drawn-out halves, until she beckoned a reply.

“Indeed. … You’re right, I should stop being so concerned.” She strained herself to answer him. The older man hummed disconcerted, and returned upon his plating. They continued eating in silence, till he mauled himself to tell her.

“... I know how hard this is for you. But our family depends on you. I had to bring you back to Riverrun, to get the other Lords used to the image of a woman in our ancestral seat.”

“Gods, of course, grandfather – and for that, I’m more than thankful.”

Grover raised a shaky hand, and cut her off with a gentle smile, “You do understand… as much as we both hate the idea, I’ll have to soon match you with someone.”

She gripped the goblet of wine before her, and wet her lips with the bitter liquor. “... Of course I do. It is my duty.”

“Your claim will be stronger with an able man around. And if the Gods are good and you also bear a son…”

“I know.” She sighed into the ample cup, “My claim would be thus undisputed.”

“Aemond was not the right match for you.”

The girl bit over her lower lip, wanting to both negate her feelings, and contest upon his honoured values. But she simply nodded to the greying Lord before her and offered a lacklustre smile.

“Perhaps a change of scenery will do you good. I was thinking that you might like the Reach better than the Riverlands... Lyonel Tyrell is an especially kind and thoughtful host.”

A relocation was the last thing on her mind, no doubt, but the Bliss of Riverrun turned her attention to the latter of his eversion.

“Visit the Reach? You think of marrying me off to the boy of Highgarden? … He’s not yet fourteen.”

Silence washed over their council.

“Boys grow swiftly into men. I'm assured he'll be a good one for you."

“He’s a child.”

“You’re seventeen.”

“It still makes for quite the difference.”

“You won’t have to mother children until he’ll also come of age. It gives you three more years of freedom – other ladies would kill for a faction of what you have.”

“I don’t like the finality of your words."

A long and pressing breath beleft his pale and tired lips.

“I couldn’t send you to the North. Jason Lannister has no sons. The Greyjoys are ghastly savages.” As he presented her his trail of thought, Grover Tully shook his head, “And the Targaryens…”

“You’re childhood friends with King Viserys. A match would not fall outside our rank." She slipped and added restlessly, much like a frail and foolish child. Even before he could answer her, his granddaughter raised her hand, as she brushed off her latter thought. “A succession crisis will ensue.” The young woman muttered in his stead.

“I’m old – I’ve seen disputes start for much less. But here we’re talking of the Iron Throne.”

“You think a war is in its midst.”

A cutting silence washed over them. Grover lifted first from the dinner table and breathed in an anxious breath.

“I pray for the sake of the Realm that such a thing will not take root.”

The languid fires of their threshold illuminated her conflicted face.

“Then it’s a good thing Aemond didn't bother to reply to my letters.”

For but a second, Grover’s face was etched with guilt.

“We all have to protect our own.” Sometimes the means to do it are less honourable than we'd wish to.

For all that was worth on that rousy and portentous night, her fate had been agreed upon. And ever the loyal and oppressed servant, the young lady of the Riverlands left with the first callings of dawn, for the impetuous and striking gardens, which were smugly kept inside the Reach.

She would then leave, with her soul and heart all torn to pieces – yet still completely unaware that she’d never see Aemond again.

Never, at the very least, to how she’d known him to always be.

His wide and calculated steps led him to the stronghold’s gates. So easily it came for him to pass the cluttered training grounds, and disregard Ser Criston Cole with a mere shake of his head.

Above all else, he thought it then, he needed to feel his love again. He needed to hold her near once more, and ask all the outlandish questions he endured inside his head, counting for so much of his weakened days. He needed to reach a resolution, after being disregarded for so long. He needed the closure that her voice could offer him, that her mouth would utter out – that this had all been a grave mistake on her behalf, that the note never belonged to her, that she loved him as he loved her, and had merely been scared of it.

His morning session could very well await him, as he so viciously awaited the perfect chance to get away.

Two days away from the arrival of the pesky letter, Aemond had finally managed to slither unperturbed from his neat and tidy prison. Neither his mother nor grandsire had caught him in the act of it, Aegon had been too drunk to notice him dress up for a morning ride, and Helaena had solely clicked her tongue and scowled at him.

As he anxiously secured the belts of his dragon’s saddle, the man hummed in disarray – Riverrun was but a short flight away, but the despair he felt to hold her inside his arms again trumped over his better senses.

With any luck, he figured, she should still be found in bed. His love had never been an early riser, and she loathed getting out of bed in the damning morning light.

He didn’t waste time figuring out pleasantries to share with Grover – much less the words needed to explain his unprompted visit.

His sole purpose was to get to her, ask for her hand, make her his wife and forever be done with it.

He had the biggest claim to her – a Prince bonded with the largest dragon in the world, the one who’d seen and grown with her so many years inside the Keep.

The command of flying was given to his formidable dragon, and the Prince took off for the Trident's three heads.

Hopefulness emerged with unforsaked determination – but as his actions would dictate him from then on out, his efforts would be all for nought, torn apart in stinging vain.

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liaa--qb · 15 days

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'VICIOUS PLAY'

[ RHAENA x AEMOND]

SUMMARY : Rhaena's visit to King's Landing might not be as dull as expected. Perhaps this time, Rhaena has decided to create her own adventures and escapades which might cost her alot. ( requested by anon)

-likes,comments n share would be appreciated❤️)

WARNING: Mean Aemond, angst, dub con, explicit, obsessive Aemond, jealousy

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For Rhaena, the journey to King's Landing was nothing short of miraculous. She had grown weary of Driftmark and the confines of Dragonstone. The absence of her own dragon, which would have allowed her the freedom to traverse anywhere at will, was a constant pang.

Finally, she could breathe in the fresh air and explore the wider world, relishing the prospect of meeting new people. While she cherished her younger brothers, Jace and Luc, she longed for more varied company than the same knights she had known her entire life.

It wasn't that she disliked them; on the contrary, she loved them dearly, but as siblings. She often daydreamed of being swept off her feet by a gallant knight or a brave Valyrian prince, much like her father once charmed her mother. Yet, not quite like her father. There were moments when she wondered if her father truly cared for her. Though he loved her, did he comprehend that it was time to set her free and find her a suitable match? She doubted it.

Daemon's well-intentioned yet forced gifts on her nameday only served to irk her, particularly the incessant supply of rabbits, her supposed favourite. Glancing at Rhaenyra, she found herself admiring her stepmother's resilience; despite lacking Baela's ferocity, Rhaenyra embarked on romantic escapades with gusto. After all, she was merely a teenager, albeit a spirited one.

Rhaena grew tired of hearing tales of Rhaenyra's childhood adventures from her ladies-in-waiting and servants, knowing that such daring escapes were beyond her reach. It was akin to yearning for things one loves but never dares to pursue in reality.

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The ride into King's Landing proved enjoyable, yet she couldn't help but feel foolish for entertaining the idea of visiting, especially with her father and grand-uncle Vaemond present. What other outcome could she have expected? Nonetheless, they had come to repair fractured relationships. Despite the preceding drama, everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly, a relief. Her hunger piqued, and the sight of the delicious food only intensified it.

However, her attention was abruptly diverted… to someone she shouldn't have been looking at. She despised the conflicting emotions welling up within her. Aemond, despite his eye injury, had undeniably grown more attractive. Reluctantly, she admitted to herself that had he not been injured, he would have been quite the charming man. She mused silently, recalling the moment before he attacked Jace with a rock. 'But good..good for her, he deserved this for attacking on her didn’t he Was he seeking her approval? Was he genuinely intending harm, or merely issuing a threat?' She hadn't realized she was so visibly caught off guard until Aemond caught her staring.

Time seemed to freeze as he gazed back at her, as though trying to place her. Embarrassment flooded her as she stood there, mouth slightly agape. She wanted to nod or offer a greeting, but her voice failed her. Suddenly, Aegon appeared behind Aemond, urging him to drink more, which both saddened and relieved her. She chided herself for her clumsiness, vowing to at least exchange words with him before leaving.

As King Viserys, her uncle, arrived, everyone began to take their seats. It was evident that tensions simmered between Queen Alicent and her stepmother. Alicent suggested Aemond take her place beside his father, but he declined, creating a palpable awkwardness. Rhaena felt a knot form in her stomach as Aemond slowly settled into the seat directly across from her and Luc. Throughout the gathering, Rhaena found herself unable to tear her gaze away from Aemond whenever their eyes met.

His immediate diversion of attention to Luc only served to irritate her. Why was she becoming so irrationally upset over Aemond not acknowledging her? Perhaps the lack of interaction with boys for so long had skewed her perceptions, even towards someone as disagreeable as him. All she wanted was to be amicable with him, yet he showed no interest in engaging with anyone, sitting in silence as if he wished to be elsewhere. Was he even interested in dancing? Why was he so fixated on Jace and Helana as if his life depended on it? 'Then, suddenly, Aemond's fist slamming onto the table drew everyone's attention.

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After calming down Baela, she resolved to confront that unpleasant individual openly, questioning what his issue was and why he had disrupted the pleasant atmosphere at dinner. what his problem was ? and why he ruined that whole sweet atmosphere at dinner, everything was going fine but as natural, he has to bring his old hatred back thought rhaena.

Everything had been going smoothly until he, true to form, had to dredge up old animosities. She had come here seeking enjoyment, only for him to ruin it and burden her family with unnecessary tension, even drawing the ire of Queen Alicent, his own mother. She found herself questioning whether he truly was King Viserys's child or someone else's.

Spotting Aemond heading towards the lawn practice field, she decided to follow suit. Later, after persuading Baela to sleep alone as she desired to be with her grandmother, she made her way to the field called his name few times.

Initially, she thought it deserted and considered leaving, but Aemond's grip on her arms halted her. "Why are you calling my name?" Aemond inquired coldly. "First, tell me what your problem is, Aemond. Do you hate me?" she demanded, her voice tinged with both anger and sorrow. "Princess… Princess Rhaena!" a squire shouted, sent by her grandmother, interrupting their exchange.

Afterward, all she remembered was being pulled into a small room within the stable by Aemond, surrounded by the scent of fresh grass for the horses. Her back was firmly pressed against him, his hands muffling her protests. As she struggled to breathe, she noticed her heart racing, unfamiliar with such proximity to a man. Aemond's voice whispered in her ear, his grip on her jaw tight, "Shhh… I detest that squire; he'll be here any minute. Just keep quiet, little bird." Whether it was the wine or some form of seduction, Rhaena couldn't deny the guilty pleasure it stirred within her. Initially scared, her body now betrayed a different desire.

Time passed, interrupted only by two more men calling out her name as they searched for her. Yet, there she stood, lightly breathing as her lips trembled against Aemond's palm. Embarrassed by her body's longing for his closeness, she attempted to move away several times, only to be met with a stern glare from Aemond. Patience waned as she felt his fingers delicately brushing against her lips, while his other arm held her waist in a tight grip, threatening to leave marks until the morrow.

His scent, reminiscent of burnt wood, leather, and, predominantly, Vhagar, evoked memories of her mother after a dragon ride. Despite him being her enemy, someone she should despise, she found an ironic solace in his arms. The amalgamation of scents intoxicated her further, amplifying the already suffocating atmosphere. Exhausted and frustrated, she unconsciously leaned back into his chest, emitting a weary sigh. To her surprise, Aemond didn't resist, flinch, or reprimand her for the action. Emboldened by the moment, she dared to rest her arms on his waist, though refrained from pressing her hips against him, aware of the potential embarrassment.

Although they both stood upright, it appeared as if Aemond was almost cradling her or contemplating pulling her onto his lap from behind. The guards' unwavering presence posed a problem, their refusal to leave heightening the tension. "You fidget a lot," Aemond murmured softly in her ear, his words causing a shiver to run down her spine. Desperate to break free from this entanglement, this primal urge to touch him, she failed to realize the effect of his lingering fingers tracing her lips and jawline.

The gentle nudging of Aemond on her arms repeatedly jolted her from her reverie. She noticed that the voices calling for her had ceased, thankfully, with no guards in sight. Turning to Aemond in a rush, she exclaimed, "I have to go, they're coming again!" In a sudden flurry, Aemond grabbed her arm, prompting her to give him a questioning stare.

He simply stood there, murmuring, "Listen… I… nothing…" before releasing her and letting her slip away, leaving him behind. Finally reaching her grandmother Rhaenys silently through the darkness without much difficulty, Rhaena felt relieved. She was thankful that her grandma hadn't informed anyone, particularly her father, about her absence, although she seemed somewhat indifferent toward her granddaughter's well-being.

"Where were you, my sweet?" Rhaenys inquired as she poured herself a final glass of wine, watching Rhaena retire to bed. Despite offering several vague responses, Rhaena couldn't shake the feeling that her grandmother was scrutinizing her keenly, a fear creeping in that her beloved grandmother didn't believe her. As they lay beside each other, Rhaenys suddenly questioned, "Who was that boy, Rhaena? Tell me the truth." Stammering Rhaena denied any involvement with a boy, claiming that servants were merely searching for her. A palpable silence lingered between them for minutes.

"You know, my child, you are betrothed to Lucerys. You understand that, right?" sighed Rhaenys, gazing directly at Rhaena with eyes filled with love. Something stirred within Rhaena as she realized she had never lied to her grandmother before. "You are exactly like your mother," Rhaenys continued, tenderly stroking Rhaena's hair "full of dreams, beautiful, sweet, and kind-hearted. Your mother, at your age, used to get lost in palace late nights whenever we came to King's Landing. Perhaps she believed this old woman was too old to confide in."

Rhaena didn't know how to respond; guilt gnawed at her, though she hadn't gone to meet a lover—unfortunately, she had ventured to confront her enemy. "Rhaena I know Lucerys may not be your ideal prince, but he is a good, sweet boy who will never hurt you," Rhaenys added before drifting off to sleep.

"Yes i know that and he is an ideal prince to me" Rhaena replied, casting her eyes downward. Before succumbing to sleep herself, Rhaenys imparted some wisdom, reminding Rhaena of the complexities of age and desire. "Promise me, if there is someone else, you'll tell me first. You can always trust me," she urged. Rhaena promised, embracing her grandmother tightly, dispelling the somber memories with laughter and light-hearted banter.

However, as she tried to sleep, Rhaena found herself unable to shake the memory of her encounter with 'not so ideal' Aemond in the stable ,a smile played on her lips. Despite her efforts to divert her thoughts the rough touch, heat, and intoxication lingered in her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if Aemond had a lover and if he treated them the same way he had treated her. Before she knew it, her thoughts wandered down a path of desire, flushing her cheeks with embarrassment. Though Rhaena attempted to redirect her focus, the blush on her cheeks betrayed her innermost desires.

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The following morning, after a swift breakfast with Baela and Grandma, Rhaena resolved to spend some quality time with Helaena, realizing it had been far too long since they'd had a proper conversation. Helaena eagerly invited her to join, an offer Rhaena had no intention of declining.

As they made their way toward Helaena's room fate intervened and Rhaena found herself unexpectedly crossing paths with Aemond, who was emerging from the door. Both halted their brisk strides, though neither knew why. The brief eye contact left them both feeling uneasy. What was she supposed to say to him? It wasn't her fault, yet he didn't even acknowledge her, merely pausing momentarily before hurrying off as if a dragon were nipping at his heels.

Later, as she reminisced with Helaena, Rhaena realized how much she missed having a friend and sister like her. While she cherished Baela deeply, she and Helaena shared a unique bond. They lamented living apart, knowing that Daemon and Alicent would never permit them to meet daily.

However, Helaena promised to visit and take her on a ride with Dreamfyre even though she was not at her best health today. Delighted, Rhaena couldn't resist coaxing Helaena like a child to go for a ride immediately, especially with the weather being so fine. -Helaena, unable to refuse when Rhaena made such requests, laughed and agreed.

Though she enjoyed riding with Helaena, Rhaena often faced friction with Baela, who grew irritated by her childlike demands, insisting she grab a dragon and leave the egg behind. While Baela's frustration was understandable, Moondancer wasn't always spacious enough for two and was quite small itself, leaving Rhaena feeling lonely and desolate at times. It was dreadful for Rhaena to realize that Aemond was there too, with Vhagar wearing his black riding suit. It was the last thing she wanted to see at that moment, but fate had other plans. What made it even sadder was that Dreamfyre seemed exhausted and uninterested in flying, mirroring Helaena's fatigue.

Though it had been Helaena's idea to come, Rhaena couldn't possibly coerce Dreamfyre. Both Helaena and Rhaena tried to coax Dreamfyre gently, but she remained curled up in a corner, resembling more of a cat than a dragon, seemingly desiring sleep. Meanwhile, Vhagar continued to hover around, appearing ready for action, which only irritated Rhaena further.

To her dismay, Helaena suggested that Aemond take Rhaena for a ride on Vhagar. "Are you serious Helaena? Do you even realize what you're suggesting?" Aemond retorted, as expected. "No, I'm not" Helaena insisted "Aemond, it's just one ride. She will go back tommorow and you owe her after ruining their dinner" she reasoned, knowing Aemond's debt to Rhaena. "I'm sorry sweet sister but over my dead body," Aemond replied firmly, already preparing to mount Vhagar who looked like herself nodded in agreement with her rider . Rhaena understood vhagar's intentions, as she though she had a special bond with Vhagar through her mother, but Vhagar was no docile creature.

Compared to other dragons, Vhagar was aloof and temperamental, never one to extend an invitation. It seemed dragons could inherit the traits of their owners, as Caraxes and Meleys were far more playful despite their occasional irritability.

Helaena pleaded with Aemond, their silent communication a testament to their sibling connection. "No, Hel! Don't push me on this. Have you forgotten what…" Aemond hesitated for a moment, a hesitation Rhaena keenly noticed. "Let it go. Take her another time because I can't," he finally declared. Sensing the tension, Rhaena intervened, urging Helaena to stop. "There's no need for this, Helaena. It's not important. Perhaps another time," she suggested, hoping to diffuse the situation.

"No, Princess Rhaena, Helaena is right," Otto Hightower interjected with a voice that cut deep coming towards them all tall and composed with a guard by his side. "You were so small the last time I saw all of you kids together. You've returned after many years, and this is not how Prince Aemond should treat you." Though Otto wasn't a dragon rider or a deadly warrior, there was something about him that commanded respect and instilled fear, even in kings.

Regardless of why her father despised him, Otto's authority was unquestionable to rhaena "Aemond, you owe her an apology. Take her for a beautiful ride. It was once her mother's dragon also, after all. It might evoke sweet memories," Otto insisted, offering a forced smile to Aemond, who rolled his eyes with irritation. Maybe Aemond didn't appreciate Otto bringing up that topic either. He silently observed Rhaena.

After much pressure from Otto, Aemond finally stood up to Rhaena, extending his hand. "Rhaena , Do you really want to do this?" It was the first time he had addressed her by name. Surprisingly, hearing her name from his lips was not unpleasant. He had always referred to her as Uncle Daemon's daughter, which felt harsh compared to this moment of sweetness and respect.

Rhaena couldn't quite decipher her thoughts as she simply nodded and took Aemond's hand gently. "Yes I would," she replied softly, realizing slowly the significance of her decision. After exchanging a final glance with Helaena and Otto Hightower who particularly observed them thoroughly , his expression suggesting he was calculating something. Rhaena climbed onto Vhagar, it felt nostalgic to be seated on Vhagar again.

Initially, Vhagar roared badly as Rhaena attempted to climb, but Aemond's soft murmurs in Valyrian seemed to soothe her. Sitting on Vhagar after such a long time filled Rhaena with a sense of confidence. She began to brush Vhagar's rough skin gently, trying to calm her own fears of being thrown off.

The atmosphere shifted from playful to tense as Aemond climbed up and settled in behind her, uncomfortably close. "Have you ever ridden a dragon before or sat behind anyone?" he inquired, his hands securing the lashes and support chain of the saddle and Vhagar to tether Rhaena closer to him. Rhaena's responses came out almost pleadingly, "Yes, only once with Vhagar, twice with Moondancer and eight times with Meleys…" Aemond's hands grazing her waist as he fastened her only exacerbated her discomfort.

"Why does this always happen between us?" Aemond sighed softly rolling his eye, audible to Rhaena despite her attempts to adjust her position to create distance. No matter how she struggled, Aemond kept pulling her closer. Rhaena's heart raced as Vhagar began to run, preparing for flight. Trembling, she turned to face Aemond. "Please don't let me fall, I don't want to get hurt," she pleaded, reluctant to admit her fear to him but knowing she had to for her own safety. Despite their strained relationship, he was still her uncle and cousin. He would not harm her right ? she thought

"Hmm just hold on tight," Aemond replied, his gaze shifting from her wide eyes to her quivering lips. "Sōvegon eglie se paez Vhagar," Aemond shouted commanding Vhagar. Rhaena quickly adjusted her position, wrapping her hands tightly around Aemond's waist and sitting on one side completely. Looking down, she saw Otto and Helaena smiling at them before they were enveloped by the rush of wind as they soared into the sky.

It was beautiful, she had to admit. Not scary or foreboding as she had feared, but rather serene. The sky stretched out before her, the cold breeze caressing her cheeks like a gentle embrace. It had been a long time, approximately three and a half years, since she had last soared among these clouds and birds. The ride was silent, and she found solace in that silence. It was far more comfortable than engaging in any potentially dangerous conversation with him.

How ironic and amusing it was that the closest she had ever been to any male was none other than the boy she despised the most, Aemond. Yet, here they were, traveling together on a dragon. She couldn't help but feel happy; perhaps Helaena had been right after all. "Look at that beautiful group of birds over there, Aemond! Let's go there!" she exclaimed with joy, her eyes shining with childlike excitement. But as she glanced at him, she realized the folly of her words. 'He's not Baela fool', Rhaena scolded herself for her lapse in judgment. His prolonged silence only served to amplify her embarrassment. What had she been thinking, acting as though she were out with her husband? He might even make fun of her for it.

Suddenly, she noticed that Aemond was steering Vhagar towards the left, where she had pointed towards the birds. "Dīnagon va se geptot Vhagar," he ordered. She beamed with happiness as she watched the pretty blue birds flying in a circle. She wanted to thank him for this moment, though she knew it would be difficult but this soothing silence between them was something she didn't want to disturb.

She glanced at him covertly, noticing the awe in his eye as he took in the view. Slowly, she grazed his waist and chest with tender affection. She didn't know if it was appropriate, but there was an undeniable urge to express her gratitude.

"Thank you for this. Sorry to disturb, but it's a habit I had with my grandma Rhaenys," she said sweetly as she rested her head on his chest, offering a soft hug as thanks. "Hmm" was his only response, but it didn't bother Rhaena much. 'can he say anything else except hmm' wondered rhaena silently enjoying the view.

"Do you never get to ride a dragon all these years?" he asked, curiosity evident in his tone. She looked at aemond who was keeping his head straight in the futher direction.It stung her, why did he have to bring up this topic now of all times? "Yes, I'm waiting for my dragon egg. I know it will hatch eventually, but it will take time. That's why I don't want to bond with any other dragon. I've always dreamed of raising my own dragon from it's birth," Rhaena replied, trying to infuse enthusiasm into her voice.

"and what if it doesn't hatch, like the rotten toy I got years before?" Aemond asked, his expression blank, his voice tinged with dullness. "No, it will… it has to. I have faith that it will give me my dragon," Rhaena exclaimed, her nervousness and confusion evident in her voice.

She didn't know how to navigate this topic; it left her feeling isolated, prompting her to avoid conversations about dragons with her family and others. Countless times, she had excused herself from family meals and gatherings when the talk turned to dragons, feigning illness.

"You know, there are many dragons near the mountains around Dragonstone, particularly Vermithor right ? Vermithor is untamed still, Grey Ghost and many dragons without riders. But why haven't you claimed Seasmoke? Your uncle is dead then why haven't you claimed it?" Aemond's voice was soft, almost as if he didn't want to broach the subject on her uncle.

Rhaena struggled to respond; she hadn't even known about these dragons until now. No one, not even her father who frequented Dragonstone had mentioned them. "Oh, yes, I… I know about that, but it's too risky to go there alone. I feel more comfortable waiting for my own egg," Rhaena replied, forcing a bright and saccharine tone, hoping to steer the conversation away.

"Dangerous?" Aemond chuckled "I used to go there when I was eight. Yes, the mountains and their caves are treacherous, but we're Targaryens. We shouldn't fear dragons. I tried many times with the Grey Ghost, but it always eluded me. It never seemed interested in having a rider. It would nudge me lightly with it's tail but it never harmed me, not even when I yelled at it. I rather liked it," Aemond reminisced, speaking animatedly for the first time.Rhaena listened intently as he continued, recalling his encounters with dragons as a child.

"Last time, it was only Dreamfyre who was a bit angry with me for trying to mount her. Later, I found out that she was giving birth and wasn't feeling well. She just roared with a light fire above me as warning but never harmed me," Rhaena found it both amusing and shocking to recall the audacity he displayed as a child. It was as if he had a death wish, venturing alone into the mountains at just 7, 8, or 9 years old, attempting to claim dragons like Grey Ghost, Dreamfyre, and Vhagar all without any security. It was a level of recklessness that seemed almost incomprehensible.

"And you're a Valyrian princess; you wouldn't be sent alone. Your father would have sent guards with you. There are plenty of dragon keepers there who could help you bond with a dragon if you're afraid to do it alone. Many people do it with guards and dragon keepers," Aemond pointed out.

It pained her deeply; why did Aemond have to bring this up? "No, Aemond, I've told you before. I want to bond with a dragon from an egg and raise it," Rhaena interjected firmly."But it's been so long-" cutting off Aemond's words. "Please I've said it countless times ,I don't want to claim any big dragon. I have my priorities, and for the gods' sake, Aemond, my world extends far beyond seizing any dragon," her voice laced with irritation, teetering on the brink of tears if he mentioned dragons once more. She didn't want to dwell on it; she came here to escape dark thoughts, not to plunge deeper into them.

"Didn't Daemon tell you anything about it? Didn't he help you?" That was the final straw for Rhaena. Why did he have to spoil it every time? Perhaps he did it intentionally to taunt her. That's just like him, after all. "Aemond, not everyone is as obsessed as you are. My dragon will come to me in its own time. I value both my eyes and don't want to risk losing them chasing after every dangerous beast out there," Rhaena shouted, her pain evident.

A tense silence hung between them, laden with guilt, memories and anguish rather than joy. Tears welled up in her eyes as all the painful memories flooded her mind.

"Can we please descend now? I'm bored and tired. I want to go back," Rhaena requested, noticing an angry or irritated expression on Aemond's face. "ok," he grunted in response. "Vhagar jikagon ilagon sir" he commanded Vhagar, but it seemed Vhagar had other plans.

Instead of descending, she veered upwards, circling higher. "Vhagar, what are you doing? Not now! She wants to go down, Vhagar!" Aemond protested, but Vhagar merely turned her massive neck slightly, as if glancing at Aemond, and emitted a soft roar in response. 'was vhagar smiling or it was just baseless imagination though rhaena or did she really saw vhagar in happy mood' wondered rhaena

The sudden ascent caused Rhaena to slip and fall onto Aemond. It appeared as though she was glued to him; the wind was so fierce and fast that she had no choice but to cling tightly to him. If anyone saw them like this, they would assume they were a married couple, yet even married couples didn't sit this close or hug each other like this. Rhaena wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and chest, burying her face in his cloak like a frightened child.

"Are you crying?" his question brought her back to reality, her tears were wetting his collar. With the high-speed ride Vhagar was providing, she couldn't muster a response. Instead, she continued to cling to Aemond, seeking solace in his embrace to distract herself from the dizzying view below.

"Aemond, please tell her to descend; it's too high for me," Rhaena pleaded, gripping his collar tightly. "ok but don't be too afraid. It's normal for us; we ascend to these heights daily, even in thunderstorms. You'll be safe. We make these flights regularly, and Vhagar is accustomed to it, she is just enjoying it too much that's why" Aemond reassured her, although his tone was tinged with confusion .

"Rȳbagon vhaagr rȳbagon mērī naejot issa," Aemond ordered with a slightly louder tone, but Vhagar seemed uninterested in listening. Instead, she roared gleefully, her roar resembling a joyful melody as she soared through the skies.

"Daor sir vhagar," Aemond muttered, his face flushed. Watching this scene unfold, Rhaena couldn't contain her laughter. She glanced up at Aemond with a mischievous smile "Old maesters used to say that a dragon is not just a follower but our magical friend, who acts in accordance with our desires. Their hearts beat as one with their owners, and they do precisely what their owners want. My apologies; your case seems to be an exception," she chuckled, unaware that she was no longer afraid of heights.

"Skoro syt bisa vhagar, gaomagon hae nyke jaelagon," frustration was evident in Aemond's expression and gestures, especially as he glanced repeatedly at Rhaena, who was giggling uncontrollably, while Vhagar continued her erratic flight pattern. "Is she not in the mood to listen to you, Uncle… I mean, cousin brother, if you prefer?" Rhaena whispered with a childish grin, as Vhagar continued her ascent with discordant enthusiasm.

'As if she knew what Vhagar was doing, she'd better refrain from laughing even once. As if she knew I was contemplating kidnapping her and taking her away right now ' Aemond mused, his mind racing with conflicting desires. The urge to grab her face and kiss her passionately was overwhelming, especially when she leaned into his neck and chest during their ascent.

He struggled to maintain his composure, fighting against the tumult of emotions raging within him. This delicate little bird, laughing innocently, had no inkling of the turbulent thoughts swirling in his mind—whether she was truly naive or merely pretending. Her soft breath tickled him to the core, tempting him to seize Rhaena and kiss her then and there. His mind was consumed with desires what it would be like to whisk her away, to witness her reaction.

Truth be told, it wasn't Vhagar, but his own desires that compelled these actions. He didn't want to let her go; he yearned to hold her for much longer. Her snug embrace, clinging to him as if her life depended on it, inflated his ego. She seemed so small and fragile against him, yet her presence electrified him. Aemond feared that Vhagar would sometimes expose his worst behaviour in front of everyone, revealing what kind of person he truly was.

Fighting with Vhagar was akin to a battle between his heart and his mind, between his desires and what he knew he shouldn't do. He loved Vhagar, adored her more than anything, loved her like his own mother, but Vhagar only listened to Aemond's heart, doing what he truly desired, whether he vocalized it or not .

There were countless times during his childhood when Vhagar acted on Aemond's behalf without his request, making it easy for Aemond to shift blame onto Vhagar if he didn't want to take responsibility. However, the problem for him was that Vhagar didn't allow him to pretend or lie, she exposed his true feelings to all.

This newfound feeling for rhaena had taken root in him since her arrival in king's landing. She was no longer the small girl with big, dark eyes and two little ponytails he once knew; she had blossomed into a stunning Valyrian beauty. His breath caught in his throat whenever he beheld her, like the previous night during the family supper.

'Perhaps the kingdom should declare Rhaena as the epitome of their new realm's delight. If not the delight, then she was undoubtedly a "beautiful Valyrian pearl," the most precious pearl of them all' He had interacted with women before, but none had evoked the same feelings as Rhaena. It was baffling how his childhood resentment toward her had transformed into an instantaneous attraction.

He hadn't wanted to attend the family supper, but his mother had urged him to do so, and he found himself regretting it when he saw Rhaena laughing, chatting and primarily interacting with Lucerys. What did it feel like to suddenly be drawn to someone despite knowing they could never be yours ? He pondered the absurdity of sitting there for far too long his initial plan had been to greet everyone once and retreat to his room.

However his heart had other plans, driven by a desire to catch another glimpse of Rhaena's beauty, even if it meant maintaining a distance. The mere exchange of glances with her stole his breath away, leaving him wondering what she thought of him perhaps an ugly monster. Thankfully, he had managed to resist the impulse to approach Rhaena, just as she had approached Lucerys and taken a seat beside him, a reminder that she was already betrothed.

To exacerbate his jealousy, she was betrothed to none other than Lucerys. 'What could be worse than watching the person responsible for your misery obtain everything you've always desired without even trying But here we are when has life ever been fair to him? '.

It was tolerable for a while, stealing fleeting glances at Rhaena, but his heart's desires led him down a perilous path. He was beside himself with the urge to grasp her slender neck forcefully and claim those ruby lips before all present. The gods knew his heart brought out the worst in him, leading him down dark and dangerous paths.

Something inside him snapped when he observed Rhaena offering Luce affectionate guidance and support, assuring him he would be a good ruler, smiling warmly at him. Why..? Aemond dared not entertain the answer. Wasn't she Daemon's daughter, after all? The man who despised his mother and his family How was it fair that she wasn't even allowed to exchange glances with him, yet there she was, conversing with Lucerys? It was a bitter irony!

He swiftly turned his attention to Helaena and Jace for distraction, but his mind continued to dwell on Rhaena. Was she simply too stupid or was she too good to recognize her own worth? A true Valyrian beauty like her should have suitors lining up to win her favor, fight tourney for her hand yet she was marrying Lucerys out of duty to Rhaenyra and Daemon. Aemond's ego refused to accept this reality openly, secretly wishing they had never feuded in childhood and could meet anew as strangers. Only Aemond knew what he would have done for her ,to possess her, to claim her, to make her his own.

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After what felt like an eternity riding Vhagar, they finally descended, bodies weary and sore, the darkness of the dragon cave enveloping them as the day waned. Rhaena couldn't fathom that she had spent hours riding Vhagar with Aemond; it was nearly evening now. The dragon cave lay dim and deserted, save for a few dragon keepers. "I apologize for my earlier behavior" Aemond suddenly spoke, unclasping his gloves and glancing back at Rhaena, awaiting her response.

She simply nodded politely, her eyes wide and sparkling, before murmuring, "Let's head to dinner; Baela must be waiting for me." There was something palpable in the air, an unspoken tension between them. Rhaena couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was always an awkwardness whenever they locked eyes. She felt comfortable being alone with almost anyone, even Aegon, but not Aemond. What was it? Some unresolved issue, or perhaps a newfound attraction? She hurried out of the cave, feeling a flush creeping up her cheeks for reasons unknown, longing for a long, hot bath.

Baela's laughter grated on her nerves. "What! You went on a ride with Aemond for this long? I can't believe it. Grandmother you hearing ?.. I thought that wicked boy was trying to kill her," she chortled, casting a scrutinizing gaze at Rhaena, who sat with Rhaenys, her expression stern.

"Shut up, Baela. It was nothing like that, just a simple ride," Rhaena deflected her sister's inquiries. The long bath was a sanctuary, offering respite from the day's events. The soothing scent of lavender oil calmed her mind; she desperately needed this moment of tranquility. However, even in the peaceful solitude of the bath, thoughts of Aemond intruded.

She couldn't deny that she somewhat enjoyed his presence. Maybe he's not as bad as everyone thinks she thought, reminiscing about their time together. 'What if there had been no childhood feud between us? What if he hadn't lost his eye? If our families had resolved their differences, we could have been great cousins, or even…".Her mind wandered to Aemond, unwanted blushes colouring her cheeks whenever their moments crossed her thoughts.

However, to her disappointment, Aemond didn't join them for dinner. Everyone else was present, but he was conspicuously absent. Rhaena scanned the room, her neck craning as she searched for him in vain.Her irritation grew as she stared at the empty chair in front of her, with Luce seated across from her, oblivious to her discomfort. Unbeknownst to her, Aegon was watching her closely. She didn't want a repeat of what happened with Baela and him, so she kept her gaze fixed on her food, avoiding eye contact.

"Cousin Rhaena, is everything alright?" Aegon inquired, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yes Cousin Aegon, I'm fine. I hope you're doing well," Rhaena replied hurriedly, as if fearing repercussions if she engaged in conversation with him. "I hope Baela isn't still angry with me. I was just playing with Jace you know. He used to be my little brother and after all these years of not seeing him, I was just having some brotherly fun. I didn't think Aemond would take it so seriously, and I inadvertently helped him," Aegon sighed, his voice tinged with regret as he moved to sit closer to her.

"It's okay, cousin. Baela is fine now. Just take care of Helaena," Rhaena murmured softly, avoiding Aegon's gaze, sensing the guilt in his eyes. It wasn't that she was scared of him per se; she just thought it better to avoid unnecessary conflict. He seemed unpredictable, capable of sweetness one moment and treachery the next. One day he would be the best family member and another day he would be the worse.

"Aemond still hasn't returned from his ride, or perhaps he's off with a girl. I wouldn't be surprised if he went to a brothel," Aegon chuckled mischievously causing Rhaena to nearly choke on her food.

She looked at him embarrassed and shy, as he continued, "Oh, are you shocked? I hope I didn't shock you. It's quite common, you know. I thought you wouldn't be unaware of the habits of princes. Your father is quite fond of whores himself, haha." Rhaena felt the urge to flee.

"No cousin, Aemond has returned to the castle. I was with him. He must be tired," she managed to say between coughs. Aegon looked at her with a comical expression. "Oh, then maybe he's in the library. He finds more comfort in the musty seats there, especially at night, than in the silken sheets of his bed. Anyway, who cares? And Aemond was right, by the way," Aegon said cryptically. Perplexed Rhaena asked, "Right about what?" Aegon grinned, "That you're very pretty. The last time I saw you, you were just a little girl always crying and playing with seashells."

-"Yes, that was…" Rhaena trailed off, finishing her meal and standing up abruptly. "Cousin, I apologize, but I have to go. I'm very tired," she said sweetly, hoping to avoid Aegon's probing.

"Going where, to the library?" he teased, wicked amusement dancing in his eyes. Rhaena paused for a moment, taken aback by his mischief, before replying, "Cousin, I was just going to my room." "Go on girl, I was only joking," he laughed, returning to his wine.

-------------------------------

As she left the dining area, Rhaena couldn't shake the feeling of unease. "What does he mean? My poor sister Helaena, she has to endure this man. My instincts were right; no matter how harmless he seems, one can never blindly trust him. And why does he have to share his disgusting secrets when no one is interested in hearing them?" she mused, troubled by Aegon's unsettling behavior.

Later that night, sleep eluded Rhaena as Aegon's words continued to echo in her mind. 'Did Aemond really say that to him? That I was pretty? It's hard to believe. Maybe Aegon was just joking and playing. I can't trust him. But what if Aemond really finds me pretty all of a sudden? Why would Aegon share this with me?' she pondered, twirling her long white locks absentmindedly.

While it wasn't the first time someone had praised her beauty, the idea of Aemond finding her attractive felt different. A smile spread across her lips as she realized what she had to do. A newfound sense of bravery surged within her, and she began to write something in her diary. "I don't see anything wrong if he finds me pretty. Well, I hope he really does…" she chuckled to herself, giggling as she continued to write.

Something stirred within Rhaena as she immediately stood up, adjusting her hair and deciding to venture to the library in just her sheer nightgown, a soft and delicate fabric that accentuated her figure. She wrapped herself in a light sheet, providing minimal coverage.

It seemed everyone was settling in for the night, which suited her just fine. Quietly, she made her way to the library, gently opening the door to avoid disturbing anyone inside or outside. Candlelight illuminated the room, casting a warm glow over the open book and ink on the table. She ventured deeper into the library, exploring its shelves and searching for books to suit her mood.

"what are you searching for at this late hour?" Aemond's voice broke the silence, and she turned to find him standing there, wearing a loose black shirt with open laces and black leather trousers, looking handsome albeit tired, with a soft smile on his face. "Of course, it's the library, Aemond. I came for books, not dragons to capture. I couldn't sleep," she teased, walking past him and intentionally brushing his shoulder, catching him off guard.

As she sat down, she removed the sheer sheet covering her dress, making her figure more visible. Aemond stood there, gazing at her as if she were a goddess or something otherworldly.

"Cousin Aemond, come sit. Why are you standing?" Rhaena asked in her most friendly tone, noticing the thrill in Aemond's eyes as he witnessed this bold side of her emerging. "You could have worn something more covering. It's not safe for you to walk around like this at night alone," Aemond remarked sternly as he approached her, adjusting his eye patch.

"Why? May I ask. Is it so bad that boys can go wherever they want and wear whatever they want, but girls cannot? I wear this in my own house, too. And is the Red Keep not safe enough?" Rhaena challenged him, intentionally seeking his reaction, whether it be anger or amusement. She just wanted to understand him better.

-"No doubt you were raised by Rhaenyra. Marvelous indeed," Aemond replied with a smug expression as he took a seat across from her, holding a wine glass. Rhaena knew Aemond was among those who opposed this newfound freedom championed by Rhaenyra. Given his upbringing, it wasn't surprising.

"Why, I don't see anything wrong here. Her thinking is indeed marvelous. I wish every queen and king were like my father and Rhaenyra," she remarked pointedly, aiming to provoke Aemond. It seemed to be working, as he scrutinized her from head to toe, lost in thought.

-"Do you enjoy reading?" Aemond finally asked, breaking the tension. Rhaena had her own plans in mind. "Yes, I love reading, but it depends. Some subjects don't interest me, so I prefer to avoid them," she replied confidently, crossing her legs and making one leg visible through the slit in her nightgown. Aemond's eye lingered there for a moment before he hastily looked away. Rhaena couldn't help but find it amusing to see Aemond struggle, perhaps due to her bare thighs, which seemed to make him uncomfortable.

"A love story, that's what you're reading?" Aemond exclaimed, his expression dull as he glanced at the book she held. "Why? Don't you like any love stories, Uncle?" Rhaena grinned, settling into her seat comfortably. Aemond was taken aback by her newfound confidence and charisma. She had transformed from a shy little bird into a seductive siren with doe eyes, testing his patience.

"What do I have to do with love stories as you said? I'm not particularly fond of that subject," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in closer to retrieve his own book from the table, sending shivers down Rhaena's spine. It felt like a game was unfolding between them, and she found herself becoming increasingly excited to play.

"Why, does the Prince have a lady love, or is there no one who captures his interest? I thought you must already be betrothed," Aemond chuckled, his eyes fixed on her"Did you princess?". Rhaena met his gaze boldly.

"No, I don't have time for that. And… who would be interested in this face? Girls are more likely to be scared of me I think," he replied with a confident smile. Rhaena couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Did he truly see himself in such a negative light all because of a scar? It made her realize that her family had never attempted to reconcile with him or apologize for their past actions.

She hoped that his perception of himself hadn't been tainted by that old scar, unaware that her finger was hovering dangerously close to a candle flame. "Ouch…" loud cry came from Rhaena

Aemond exclaimed as he turned to Rhaena, grabbing her injured finger. "Wait a sec, stay still, nothing serious happened," he reassured Rhaena, who was panicking. "It will hurt," Rhaena protested, jumping around like a frightened child.

"Nothing will happen, you're fine. Just be silent," Aemond said firmly, grabbing her shoulder and wrist tightly. The next thing she knew, Aemond was applying ointment to her finger. It stung at first, but the way he applied it so smoothly diverted her attention from the pain. She found herself quite calm now. "It's funny that I'm the one calming someone among all the people here," chuckled Aemond, breaking the silence. "You're usually the first person to do so, sadly," he added with a puzzled expression, meeting her gaze.

-They stared at each other in silence, and Rhaena couldn't think straight. She just wanted to kiss his face, his eyes, his nose, his lips, even his scar. Had she drunk too much wine, or was there something in the air? "Aemond… can I… can I take it off?" she muttered, unsure of her own words.

-She wondered how someone could be so tough yet so gentle. His demeanor and body language screamed danger, but inside, there was nothing but softness. Did he ever get tired of putting up walls all the time? Did he ever yearn for love, or had he decided to be this way forever because of his scar? Lost in the moment, she softly grazed the scar on his face and removed his eye patch, leaving Aemond wide-eyed but not stopping her. No one had ever done this to him, except perhaps Helaena, but her case was different.

-"Does it hurt?" asked Rhaena tracing the scar line with her finger. He shook his head. "No, not now," he replied softly. She was captivated by the beauty of his sapphire at that moment. "This sapphire… did you put it…" she started, but Aemond cut her off with a brief " it's a long story" before stepping away, giving them some space.

Rhaena couldn't help but feel embarrassed by her actions whenever they were alone. There was always something between them. Again, there was a long silence as he stood at the opposite end of the table, looking down at something, while she sat on the table, glaring at her finger.

"I think I should go to my room," Rhaena said, disappointed that she had ruined everything she had planned. "What about the book? Don't you want to finish the story?" Aemond asked with a friendly smile, standing where he was. She added, " I want to, but maybe later."

Before leaving she turned and finally asked, "Why didn't you come for dinner? Everyone was there."

He didn't reply immediately, just looked at her with a light smirk on his lips, leaving Rhaena waiting for an answer, curiosity evident on her pretty face.

Though Aemond seemed like he wanted to answer, something held him back. With a resigned chuckle, he replied, "If you want to continue reading the book, your favourite love stories," as he placed it back on the shelf among his other books. "You can come back anytime, even tomorrow, i am keeping it here" he added pointing at the particular shelf.

"But I might be leaving tomorrow," she said, unsure if she was just imagining a slight change in Aemond's demeanor. "Okay, very well," he responded simply.

--------------------------------------------

The next day, Baela, Jace, Luc and their maids were getting ready to leave. They packed their clothes and gifts from their grandfather, King Viserys, and Queen Alicent. Daemon urged Rhaena to hurry, but she had little desire to leave.

"But Grandma, we just got here, and Helaena wants me to stay. We want to explore King's Landing and I also wanted to ride Dreamfyre just once. She looks majestic. Please, can we stay a few more days?" Rhaena pleaded with Rhaenys, who was tired of hearing her requests. She asked Daemon, but he was in no mood to stay longer, and neither was Rhaenyra. They all decided to have breakfast together in the morning. King Viserys seemed a bit happier and looked healthier.

All of them were chatting and laughing at the table, including Otto and Daemon. It was a delightful sight until Aemond arrived, causing Rhaena to sit up straight. She was foolish to have looked at him with a friendly gaze, but he acted as if he didn't even know her. The softness was gone, it was the same old harsh exterior.

He greeted his mother, everyone else Luc, Jace, even Baela but only nodded at her, just a nod. "Well well, is it a tradition that when Criston and Aemond enter the room, we have to stop talking?" Aegon joked, and everyone laughed. Criston left after hearing this, and Aemond's eyes followed him. Aegon looked at Aemond apologetically, but Aemond just stared back at him coldly.

Baela shouted, "Grandsire, please continue about father. I want to know about his scandalous affairs" laughing and looking at Daemon, who shook his head and hid his face. "You can't hide Father," taunted Baela. "Yes, yes my child. I need to get back at him for all these years. He was a pain in my ass" spat Viserys and the room filled with laughter from Luc, Jace, and the children.

"Do you know how he wed your mother, child?" Viserys asked Daemon. "Did you tell them? If not, then I will" he said winking at baela, and Rhaena beamed with excitement. "Please tell us. I have been dying to hear this. I would love to listen" she exclaimed.

"You know, your mother was betrothed to someone else, not your father. She was about to marry some lord chosen by her parents, my sister and Lord Corlys." Everyone was shocked.

"Yes, Laena used to come here with Rhaenys a lot. She was a bit older than Rhaenyra but she was like her elder sister. Rhaenyra and her used to play a lot, but I didn't realize that my brother had taken a special interest in her. Daemon started to roam around her a lot whenever she came to King's Landing. But, as I told you, Lord Corlys and Rhaenys had already betrothed her to someone else. I can't remember his name. He and Corlys later had many problems between them, I remember"

"Then what happened?"asked Lucerys with wide eyes.

"What happened ? What do you expect of Daemon, child ? Daemon used to go to Corlys a lot, and many times stayed at Driftmark if I scolded him. Once Laena's betrothal was meeting with them, Daemon always mocked him. Once, in a ceremony, Daemon taunted and mocked that simple man so much that he started fuming with anger. He was a weak man. What harm could he have done to Daemon? Daemon challenged him to a duel there, and that man got killed by him. Then he ran away with your mother and gave us two pretty brave girls" said Viserys, while everyone laughed.

"Poor man, he died for nothing" said Jace, shocked by Daemon's old deeds. "What poor man? He came in the way of father. He should have just gone and not attacked my father back. Maybe he would have been alive" replied Baela to Jace, playfully scolding him.

"Yes, Daemon has his way of doing things, Princess. You must hear all about your father's old adventures," Otto claimed with a smile to Rhaena and Baela which seemed fake to which daemon gave an annoying look.

"Hahaha beware everyone, it's all fun and games until it happens to our girls !" laughed Aegon as he filled his wine cup. Everyone looked at him in silence and with angry glares, especially his mother, Alicent. "What? They're lucky that you people just matched them without informing anyone secretly. Otherwise, if it was a tournament for fighting their hands, then who knows… Majorly for Rhaena i mean she is pretty and really young, some men would kill for her," he said this stylishly, without any hesitation.

Later, seeing everyone's response, he added, "I'm just joking. Why did all of you become silent so easily? please continue," spat Aegon, drinking more.

At that moment, she felt someone's gaze on her. When she turned her head from Viserys, it was Aemond who was looking at her with a smug on his face, lips carved into a smirk, while his hands played with the knife, rotating it on its tip on the table. 'Now why all of a sudden is he glaring at her like this? hope I didn't do something foolish again. Was he looking at me the whole time? What did someone see? I hope Father didn't notice him. He would be gone then. What's his problem? When I want to talk to him, then he behaves weird. Earlier, he didn't even greet me properly, behaved like a stranger, and now he's looking at me openly without moving his eyes anywhere else, as if I'm some kind of amusement thing,' thought Rhaena.

She then started to ignore Aemond's gaze by nervously looking around, yet she couldn't deny that she was liking it, his attention on her. Rhaena was afraid to name the feelings she had for him. There was something between them, something exciting and thrilling about being chased by him, being desired by someone like Aemond. Maybe some feelings don't need any label, they should be left the way they are.

Helaena drew her attention, grabbing Baela's hands. "Please, Baela, can you just stay here for a few more days? We would have fun. You all just arrived here, and we didn't get enough time. Please stay for me," requested Helaena with all the love in her eyes and tone. "Hel, I want to spend time with you, but… I have to go now. We all have to now. Jace also has some work there. Next time, we will definitely come for days sister," replied Baela with love.

"Maybe Rhaena wants to stay… right, Rhaena?" Aegon suddenly asked, looking at Rhaena. All eyes turned to Rhaena. ",I… I, yes… no, I mean, I wanted to spend more time with Helaena" she said, while making pleading dove eyes towards Rhaenys, Daemon, and all of them.

"Why don't we take Helaena to Dragonstone with us for a few days, right?" exclaimed Baela with joy to Rhaena. "Yes, it would be good, a change for Helaena too," added Rhaenyra. "No apology, but Helaena is not feeling well lately regarding her health matters since Maelor's birth. She needs to rest here, but maybe some other time she can come" Alicent interrupted and advised.

Both Rhaena and Helaena had plans together. They had a list of what to do, where to go, and she didn't want to spoil that fun. Then Rhaenys entered the room, looking tired as well. "I have to inform you all that you shouldn't wait for me. I need to stay here for a few days. I need to talk with Viserys about some important issues. You all can go, and Rhaena, my child, would you stay with me?"

Viserys added, "Yes, I think Rhaena can stay with Rhaenys here now. Helaena, are you happy?" coughing laughingly while Helaena and Rhaena beamed at each other with joy. "Yes, until then, we have to do preparations for Jace and Baela and Lucerys and Rhaena's betrothal," Rhaenyra announced.

"Mother, can me and Rhaena get married a bit later? We are betrothed already. There's no hurry. First, Jace and Baela should get married," muttered Lucerys with a low voice and low confidence, looking at Rhaenyra with hopeful eyes.

Rhaenyra held his hand with motherly affection. "My sweet boy, don't be afraid. We will wed you two a bit later if you want to."

Then Rhaena affectionately grazed his shoulder. "Luce, don't worry, even if we are wedded earlier, I promise you there will be no problem on my side. I know it feels awkward and you are so young right now. There will be no duty, no heavy expectations, just our friendship. And believe me, we will enjoy a lot. And you, my dear, you will be a great husband," she hyped his confidence up with her honey-toned gesture, which made Lucerys smile and nod in agreement. While saying this, she was sure that she just saw Aemond glaring at her, but in stern anger. Ignoring him was the best option for her.

"What a sweet lovely couple this is. Rhaena is a wife that every man desires, and Lucerys my little boy, you are lucky," applauded Viserys with a warm, bright smile. Suddenly, the breaking of glass caught Rhaena's attention.

She turned her head, and it was Aemond who may have slipped the glass or held it too tightly. "Damn brother, was the glass your enemy that you were holding it that hard?" said Aegon, looking at Aemond's bloodied finger, who was wiping his blood with a cloth. "It's nothing, Mom, just a very small cut. I get them regularly in training," Aemond said to Alicent, who started looking at his hand.

Rhaena's eyes met Aemond's, who looked a bit hurt. She really thought that he was about to cry. It was funny to her as to why a boy like him would cry. Was the cut actually hurting badly? Then why did he seem…..so angry, it’s impossible to predict this boy’s mood she thought. ----------------------

Rhaena felt somewhat light after bidding goodbye to her family, perhaps because now she was somewhat free. Though Rhaenys was still here, there wasn't the same level of restriction as with her father, Baela, and all the others. She was here on her own now.

Later, after strolling through King's Landing's old shops and admiring dresses with Helaena, she returned to the library again at night in that same sheer nightdress. She knew exactly what she was doing, as the smile on her face told a whole different story. Entering the library, she made her way to the shelf pointed out by Aemond the previous night.

"Didn't want to go back, huh? You seem to love King's Landing more than you should, I see. And your book is here if you came for it," said Aemond with a straight, stern tone, holding the book in his hands.

"Yes… I do," Rhaena walked slowly towards him. "I wanted to explore King's Landing, and not just King's Landing, but I think… I might love this library too. If I went with them today, how would I complete my book and my love story?" She playfully took the book from Aemond's hand.

"Tell me, what were you reading in this book, uncle? I thought it wasn't your taste, my prince," asked Rhaena, mischief filling her voice. Aemond rose from his seat, taking slow footsteps towards Rhaena.

"Just checking what your taste was, perhaps," he replied.

"So, do you like my taste?" asked Rhaena, a hint of flirtation in her eyes, as if inviting him.

"Haven't tasted you yet. I mean, I haven't read this book or seen your choices. Just the same crazy romance stories," Aemond's response momentarily shocked Rhaena, her eyes automatically drifting to his lips. Her mind wandered down a completely different path.

-"I hope someday you might become acquainted with my taste cousin," she muttered mocking him, almost coming closer to him and brushing his shoulder again. She liked it; for her, it was a way of challenging him, making him pay for their childhood fights. --------------------------------------

This library became her second favorite place to pass the time those days, whether it was with books or with Aemond; only her heart knows. They spent a lot of time together at night, and sometimes even in the evenings. Often, she played games like hiding his books or swords, keeping them with her. Though she didn't want to admit it, there was a newfound friendship growing between them.

Her open and free behaviour with Aemond increased, often placing her hands on his shoulder or thigh while asking questions or sharing stories about various families, causing Aemond to blush and want more. Sadly, he was beginning to enjoy these meetings with Rhaena, which would soon end with her marriage a thought he hated to recall.

Rhaena often tried to annoy Aemond, especially during his training sessions. She loved to distract him by making weird faces or once even stealing his shirt while he was training making him walk shirtless to his room, causing the maids and girls in the Red Keep to giggle.

This sudden closeness and friendship did not go unnoticed by Criston. From his expressions, it was clear he didn't like it. To him, it was like watching some old memories repeat themselves. He even scolded Aemond for not paying enough attention on his training as compared to earlier days.

Aemond's heart fluttered many times when Rhaena caught his arm or hand in front of everyone, guiding him to remove things she was scared of, whether it was a snake, a dog or reaching for books placed too high on the shelves, or even picking flowers from trees she liked but couldn't reach. Also he despised seeing her interact with various guards and knights, whose lustful gazes were directed at her.

Particularly, his cousin Garmund Hightower seemed to be growing overly friendly with Rhaena after just one encounter, and it appeared she was also enjoying his company. Garmund wasn't a wealthy prince or a renowned knight, so he couldn't fathom what Garmund could possibly be saying to her that brought her such joy. He felt jealous of the attention she received from numerous men in the Red Keep.

Within days, the most amusing and surprising event occurred to Aemond, one he himself couldn't believe: he made a gift for her, a white and rose pearl necklace adorned with extremely small dragon crafted from ancient Valyrian steel.

He had it specially made, envisioning how stunning it would look on her, yet he never presented it to her. Instead he kept it to himself always, lacking the courage to do otherwise. This gesture was unprecedented, he had never done anything similar for any girl aside from his family—his mother, Helaena, and little Jaehaera. Whenever Aegon inquired he fibbed, claiming he had it made for his mother.

--------------------------------------------------

One day, she came across a book written entirely in Valyrian, containing information about the old Targaryen customs, judging from some peculiar images she saw. While she was comfortable with the Valyrian language, she was still a novice at it.

One positive aspect of Daemon and Rhaenyra's parenting was that they never burdened their children with difficult or heavy royal duties, unlike Queen Alicent, who demanded perfection and over sincerity in everything. They always emphasized that one's nature mattered more than their appearance or lineage. "What's most important is wanting the best for your realm and your family ," Rhaenyra often told them, and she was absolutely right.

When Aemond saw the book and flipped through a few pages, he exclaimed, "What the hell is this? You know exactly what this is, don't you?" His tone was loud and sharp, indicating his seriousness.

"No, truly, I don't know. If I did, why would I bring it to you? Yes, I can understand the language, but not I am not best at it, i thought you might help. That's why I came to you. What's wrong with it?" Rhaena asked, genuinely curious.

-"Oh shut up, You know perfectly well, Rhaena," Aemond retorted, finding it hard to believe her.

-"No, I swear, I seriously don't know!" Rhaena exclaimed.

Aemond placed the book on the table in front of her and explained, "It's about the mating rituals of Targaryen people with their partners and their dragons." Rhaena stood there with her mouth agape, cursing her bad luck inwardly. Suddenly, a giggle escaped her lips, further fueling Aemond's irritation. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

"Nothing… nothing. I was just amused to see the scary dangerous Prince Aemond Targaryen getting shy and nervous about the topic of mating," Rhaena replied, trying to stifle her laughter. "Just look at your face, Aemond. You're almost red. I'm so concerned for your future wife," she teased, while Aemond simply stared at her in disbelief.

Ignoring her, Aemond walked away, prompting Rhaena to chase after him. "So, are we not going to read it, Aemond? Please don't act like a snobbish old man," she shouted after him. Aemond turned and retorted, "You shouldn't act like a common whore, Rhaena. Maybe Rhaenyra hasn't taught you enough." His distasteful remark enraged her, smile was gone from her face.

Standing tall, Rhaena confronted him "A whore? So that's what every girl is to you, someone who simply asks a question about mating, which, let me tell you, is a basic part of life. But yes, men like you would protect your brother, who assaults every maid he sees. I bet you do same--."

"Rhaena! lower your voice!" yelled Aemond with such force that Rhaena shivered for a moment. It was the first time she had seen him so enraged, but she refused to back down.

Stepping towards him, she said "do you feel no hesitation in uttering disgusting words towards any girl? So why should I hold back from speaking the truth? I haven't forgotten how you remained silent when Aegon mistreated Baela at dinner. You always seem to support him. Where have your respect and values gone then? The truth is, people who support and conceal the actions of culprits are not much different from them, even if they don't openly display it. Maybe you're just like him, mistreating gir--" Before she could finish, Aemond grabbed her arms harshly and shoved her towards the back racks.

Grasping her jaw forcefully he warned her "Don't you dare speak of me like that !" He stared into her face, which paled with fear, but her eyes still bore into his. "If I was like him Rhaena, I swear you would be begging on your knees right now instead of standing here spewing your pathetic childish nonsense," he said sharply, his angry gaze fixed on her trembling lips trapped in his grip.

Slowly releasing his hold, he continued, "I'm warning you for your own good. Don't play games you can't finish, especially not with me. The outcome may not be as pleasant and… let's not repeat history" as he caressed her jaw patting her cheek, Rhaena boldly maintained eye contact, challenging him without flinching. "And what if I choose to play that game? I'm not that naive little girl anymore cousin"

Aemond was surprised and intrigued by this side of her. The tension between them escalated, with a thin line separating them that neither dared to cross. Aemond closed the gap between them, now standing so close that the mere passage of air between them felt like a miracle to Rhaena. "Then perhaps… I need to teach you how to behave" he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She attempted to push him away, but he caught her arm and pinned it above her head.

"If you harm me I'll report this to grandsire Viserys, release my hand!" Rhaena declared, her breath heavy. Aemond chuckled ominously at her threat. "Is that so? Very well, let's inform him or better yet let's inform your father, Daemon. I'm sure he would be delighted to learn that his daughter is eager to learn about 'mating' in the dead of night and from me, no less." She fell silent, understanding how much her father would disapprove if he were to find out.

He held her tightly, forcing her to look up at him. "I know you wouldn't leave, you know why…" Rhaena looked at him with anticipation. "Because you yourself feel something for me. There's a part of you that craves me, I can feel it" whispered Aemond as his fingers grazed her lips and cheeks. Rhaena was lost in the sensation, torn between her heart's desires and her mind's warnings.

"Aem..aemond I have to go, it's too dark," she managed to utter, but her resolve was weakening; he was making it too difficult for her. "What if… I don't let you go? Imagine if I never send you back to Driftmark then what ? if I just keep you here with me," Aemond whispered with his devilish grin dangerously and eye filled with dark emotions close to brushing her lips with his. "No, Aemond… I have to go back, I have to marry Luc-"

Her words were cut off by Aemond, who pressed his lips onto hers. There was hunger in his kiss, as if he would die if he left her lips even for a second. Rhaena initially hesitant, now surrendered to the feeling, allowing him to have his way with her. Her hands moved from his chest to his hair, pulling him closer. As passion flowed between them, his kisses sometimes felt like bites, but there was pleasure in this pain for Rhaena. No words were exchanged, only their heavy breathing and their heartbeat spoke volumes.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry I hurt you that day," Aemond murmured between kisses, his long fingers gripping her neck. "But you all left me no choice…" His kisses became more ferocious, devouring her lips as if it were his last meal. "What a fool I was. Instead, I should have taken you that day along with Vhagar. I should have asked for you to be mine in exchange for my eye," he panted, now holding her face in his palms.

For Rhaena, it felt like a dream. Was she really hallucinating these days, or was this real? She wasn't in a state to think clearly. "Listen, Rhaena listen to me , Break off your marriage with Lucerys. Be with me" . Rhaena’s heart skipped a beat as she listened to Aemond, who was deadly serious yet there was a child like desperation in him, demanding love,demanding things which were never his but knew very well how to claim that. At that moment of secs she saw that little aemond who was at driftmark wandering alone like a lost little newly born dragon baby in him not any cold scary prince.

She shook her head trying regain her position, removing his hands but aemond wasn't letting her move "No you listen to me. You don’t love Lucerys, you're doing this just for your father, I know it. Why waste yourself for their happiness?" Rhaena tried to steady herself, reading the situation. "Aemond… No please understand, Lucerys is going to be my husband. We've been together for years. He's a very sweet and gentle boy. I know I would love him, but I can't… I can't be with you" she said calmly, soothing Aemond's hand.

But it wasn't the same for him. He harshly grabbed a fistful of her hair, causing her pain "What? What did you say? Say that again," he demanded, harshly yanking her hair. "Your audacity to say this after taking everything from me !" his eyes darkened with rage "You made me like this, made my life miserable. Now, after playing with my heart, you have the guts to say this bullshit in front of me !" he spat in anger, his grip becoming more painful, piercing her skin and scalp.

"Aemond I do feel bad for you with my whole heart. But that was the past and now everything is sorted between our families. Don't destroy this. You're fine, Aemond, you're absolutely fine. You will find another lovely princes-" She was again cut off again "You don't know how it feels like, what it feels like to be me" Aemond said with low tone but yet frightening , showering kisses on her neck, licking and biting skin near collarbone, soothing her while moving his hands down below her waist.

Felt like snake smelling it's prey before feeding on it. His hot breath near her breast made her dizzy with feelings "It wasn't the loss of an eye only Rhaena. That day, I lost my father, my morals, my childhood, my dreams everything. You don't know, you will never be able to know," his eyes showed emotions she had never seen in him before. There was pain, anger, questions ."And I don't want any other girl, I want you. You and me, Rhaena should be together. Can't you see that. You know, even Vhagar accepted you, or maybe she remembers you" a terrifying smile came on lips remembering vhagar.

Rhaena was getting scared of his madness, but at the same time, she wanted to let his madness consume her. She secretly wished that she was free of any marriage or burden "Aemond I like you, I really like you as well, but please try to understand, I have to marry…"

"You will not marry Luce, didn't you get it? I will not let that happen," shouted Aemond with every brick of venom and anger filled in him.

She pushed him away once more, but he swiftly caught her from behind, ensnaring her in his arm's embrace and burying his face in her hair. "This scent is intoxicating. You should be thanking me that I didn't fuck you right there on Vhagar," chuckled Aemond. It was becoming more and more difficult for Rhaena to resist him.

"Maybe we should discuss that book, huh? I could teach you all the things written in it. We have the whole night. But where, your chamber or mine?" he whispered seductively in her ear. It was as if the devil himself was manipulating her into his trap, giving all kinds of temptations to her. His breath on her neck sent thousands of sensations coursing through her that she had never experienced before. His fingers grazing and tracing the shape of her lips were melting points she was reaching. " and as you said I really need to know your taste my little bird"

She didn't know how she mustered all her courage and bit Aemond on the hand, who seemed to enjoy the pain rather than cry out. "Aah, so bird knows how to attack" he grinned , cackled while observing rhaena but at least she was free from his grasp. Seizing the opportunity, she ran away from him.

"You'd better not lock your door Rhaena ! there's no way to hide .I am going to catch you either way otherwise the consequences will be hard and I truly enjoy punishing culprits" said Aemond loudly enough for her to hear, laughing as he watched her flee. Thankfully, she made it straight to her room.

That night wasn't going to be easy for her. While lying in bed, her eyes were fixed on the door, which she had locked thoroughly, or so she thought. Every footstep around her door made her heart beat faster. She could feel the wicked side of her heart urging her to keep the door open or go to Aemond's chamber, tease him, to fulfil all her wild fantasies. Rhaenys's earlier advise and warning crossed in her mind. It was then that she realized she had played a dangerously risky game, one that could have serious consequences for everyone involved. Maybe she needs to go Dragonstone as soon as possible.

---------------------------------

In the next few hours of night, Rhaenys arrived at Rhaena's chamber with something very important to discuss. To her surprise, the door was open, and she soon realized that Rhaena was taking a bath, which was somewhat unusual for this late hour. She decided to wait for Rhaena, seating herself on the bed.

Glancing around, Rhaenys noticed a collection of books scattered on the bed, and with a sigh she remarked 'Girls and their love stories' As she reached for a large book detailing implicit rituals of the Targaryens, Rhaenys's eyes widened at it's contents. Suddenly, a tiny beautiful pearl necklace accompanied by a small parchment, slipped from the pages. Astonished by the intricate design in old Valyrian steel, she unfolded the parchment to read " Nykeā byka rudhy syt gevives raqagon ao hen se issaros ao vēdros se olvie (A small gift for a beauty like you' from the person you hate the most.)

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