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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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hi, my sweet heart!

first of all i want to tell you that you are one of my favorite writers of all time, and your Aemond fics can be considered, by me, works of art!

your writing is MAGNIFICENT!

with all this, can you write an Aemond fic involving that scene, from episode 8, where Daemon is holding Rhaenyra's hand, showing affection and strength to her? And who is faced with that scene is Daemon. — His sweet daughter with his damn nephew.

— Two dragons, two rivals.

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: how could two people, two dragons have so many things in common including the hatred they feel for each other?

warnings: incest, explicit language, explicit words, inspired by episode 8

word count: 2.537!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

"ñuha jorrāelagon, gaomagon gīda." (My dear, keep calm.)

Your heavy and distressed steps were echoed by the empty room, which was lit only by the cracks of light coming from the huge window. — It was quite capable of forming a harrowing circle on the smooth floor of the cold place.

Your hands were sweating and you played nervously with your fingers, trying to balance and lessen your anxiety. — It looked like you were going to release fire from your mouth at any moment.

By the looks of it, and you've been warned, your parents, along with your siblings, are on their way to King's Landing to settle some frictions, duties and debate who will inherit the greatest roles in the dragon house. — Well, you're not worried about that, that subject never interested you as much as you were the main heir to the throne.

The eldest daughter, first of your name, hated meetings about it because deep down you knew that being a woman you would never receive the same respect that a male heir could receive.

Destined since childhood to be married to your uncle, following in your mother's footsteps; Rhaenyra thought it more correct and direct to leave you in King's Landing, of course with your father's permission, who hated the idea but learned to agree with it over time. — Daemon made a point of sending ravens with messages, mostly in the Valerian language, to you on every moon.

The rebel prince would never leave his darling daughter alone among those vultures, as he always called them.

Of course you liked the news, seeing your parents and siblings was a gift from the good gods and you thanked them. — But soon, a heavy storm fell on his head at the memory of an infuriating fact.

Your father and your husband never got along. — Only the gods knew the insatiable desire of each one to want to kill each other. — Two men. Two dragons who defended their family with fire and blood, had so many identical physical and mental characteristics and also shared the reciprocal hatred.

Your father always made it clear how much he disagreed with, and hated, your husband in the letters he sent your, but a part of his heart admired your passion for the one-eyed man. — And it was impossible to deny that you and Aemond were, in fact, a copy of Daemon and Rhaenyra.

A heavy sigh deliberately escapes your lips and your head decides to turn towards the owner of that voice. — The only voice that could reassure you at that moment and make you feel lighter and less pressured and you needed support and, especially, your lover.

As you turn around, your eyes clash with the image of the oldest sitting in a leather chair, pigmented in pure black and reddish tones, watching all your steps and features that you make. — Every simple movement or even a simple swing of your hair, was perceived by Aemond.

"Come here, my love." — It was technically impossible to deny that request. Those simple words fell sweetly from Aemond's thin lips, and ended up conquering you and comforting your anxious heart. — With a reassuring smile that came to your lips quickly, your steps made their way to the chair where your dear lover was sitting.

Your dress, made of fabric blessed by the gods and dragons and beautifully crafted in shades of black and red, paying homage to your home, swept the floor along with your steps. — That dress showed and defined your beautiful curves. — Any of the seven kingdoms would say, in all honesty and honor, that you were a copy, designed by the gods, true to your mother.

And Aemond looked to the heavens and thanked all the good gods for having you.

As you approached, a sincere smile with a touch of understanding appeared on the older's lips and he reached out to grab your hand. — A gesture of pure affection and love. — Aemond's rough fingers stroked the palm of your hand, a few circular movements but slowly. Aemond's hand, which tends to be cold most of the time, was warm but still made you shiver.

"Everything is going to be perfectly fine, my wife." — Aemond reassured you, looking into your eyes. The eldest's one good eye admired you, and tried to pass a pleasant image. — "You know very well that you have my word."

Interrupting the simple but comforting finger caress, Aemond clasps your hand in his and holds it tightly, showing support for you. Even with all the friction, differences and threats between your family and Aemond, he never failed to support and protect you. — You belong together. Two dragons and only one soul, you two defined yourself with those words.

You delivered a smile that meant all your passion and admiration for Aemond, and he was able to understand that quickly. That damn man knew you like no one else.

The huge doors of pure wood along with some stone repairs are opened scaring you and taking your focus away from Aemond, and the same happens to him but the older man's hand still remains holding yours. — Soon, one of the guards, who escorted the door, enters.

"Majesties, excuse me." — The guard, whose name you didn't know, refers to your and Aemond's presence. He was young looking and a little nervous, maybe it was one of his first days as a guard. — "The presence, majestic and of high grace, of Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon already awaits the two of you"

Aemond did not fail to notice and feel the strength you exerted by squeezing his hand. It seemed that nervousness had attacked your entire body in a brutal and deadly way. — Your voice had disappeared, as if you had lost your way of speaking at that moment, and your husband noticed it immediately.

"Allow them to enter here, now." — The elder Targaryen commanded in a loud voice, causing the young guard to stiffen his stance and quickly nod to obey the order.

The huge and strong doors of pure wood, which blocked the image of the corridor, are opened again and soon your eyes can see some strands white, like snow, and very familiar. — At the exact moment, you can have a broad view of your mother next to your father.

Your heart was racing, it felt like it would burst out of your mouth at any moment and not to mention your eyes were teary and ready to shed the tears that were threatening to fall freely. It had been so long, so many moons and so many suns, without admiring and talking to your parents.

The first steps were Rhaenyra's and in your direction, she wanted to ignore her unfortunate brother's existence. The future queen hated that dragon ever since the event that caused his eye to be missing, and if Rhaenyra could; she would never leave you in that man's hands again. — But she knew she couldn't fight your feelings and the sacred seal of Targaryen marriage.

Keeping her posture and, knowing that she couldn't disrespect her brother and even in front of him, Rhaenyra faced him with respect and nodded to the youngest.

"My dear daughter and my dear…" — A not-so-long, tight sigh escaped Rhaenyra of its own accord. — "Brother."

Aemond did not show such a surprised or grateful expression or reaction with the presence of his sister, who has a feeling of reciprocal hatred and anger. The seriousness remained on Aemond's face, until he decided to watch his uncle's footsteps.

The annoying, unhappy sound of Daemon's well-crafted, presumably leather, shoes drifted past Aemond's ears. As if each simple, slow step was a deathly crack in the one-eyed head. — Aemond hated even Daemon's gait. — There wasn't one thing Aemond didn't hate about his uncle, besides his daughter; of course.

Gently and slowly taking your hand away from Aemond's, you approach your mother and don't miss the opportunity to hug her. Feeling your mother's comforting and warm affection again is a blessing to you and warms your heart. It was, in fact, an eternity since you felt that.

"I missed you so much, my sweet child." — She whispered in your ear, you could feel the affectionate smile and very typical of your mother. — "And you look so beautiful."

"I missed you too, mom." — After you reciprocated your mother, you slowly pulled away from the warm embrace that held the two of you together and finally got the chance to meet your father's eyes. Eyes identical to yours that, in one of your youthful memories; Rhaenyra said you destined the most beautiful eyes she could look up to in all the seven kingdoms, your father's.

Daemon ignored the heavy, deadly glare of the younger man who sat a few feet away from him. The rebel prince didn't care, not even a little, about that one-eyed drama. — He just wanted to have the opportunity and moment to meet again, correctly and as a father, with his beloved daughter And not even her husband could stop it.

"issa tala." (My Daughter.) — The tone of Daemon's voice took a little hitch, leaving her weak as if he were broken or even his voice totally incapable of uttering a miserable word. — But that wasn't it. Your father was thrilled to see you after so many years. — "issa dōna tala" (My sweet daughter.)

Even with his low, wistful tone, Daemon didn't lose his poise but he couldn't hide his genuine, compassionate smile when given the chance to hold your delicate hand. — Your hand that was in a reddish tone because of the countless times you rubbed and squeezed because of nervousness. — Your father understood that and didn't want to question it.

Holding your hand, Daemon's thumb caressed your fingers and analyzed some rings, pure silver, that remained lying there and, he couldn't help but analyze his engagement ring and be impressed with his nephew's taste. — The blood color stone, the color of pure red and the color of the Targaryens, of dragons; a ruby was between your finger.

"At least he knows how to put incompetence aside when it comes to choosing a ring." — A low and brief laugh came out of your mouth when he had the privilege of listening to that mocking whisper of your father. But, something catches the attention of Aemond, who was still not very happy with his uncle's arrival.

"I hope the trip was pleasant for you, uncle. From what I understand, the tide was calm, wasn't it?" — It was impossible not to recognize the teasing and sarcasm in the words that were uttered from Aemond's mouth, and he didn't even try to hide it. The weather could get worse but that was exactly what the one-eyed man wanted.

You turned your head towards your lover, wanting to question and scold, just by looking at that attitude, but again, it was impossible but you didn't stop watching him with narrowed eyes. — Your husband's single eye met yours but it was only a fleeting moment.

"I must feel honored and privileged to have conceived your concern for me, nephew." — Daemon returned in the same tone of voice. — "But i don't deny that i'd rather stay on the ship than here."

Remaining facing Aemond, you had a full view of Rhaenyra doing the same action you had previously performed on the one-eyed. — It looked like you two were in the middle of a children's discussion, that was an unfortunate and unpleasant moment to witness and participate; and besides being extremely tiring.

"I make a point of calling that ship for you." — Aemond retaliated with a thin and ridiculous smile.

"ao jurnegon raqagon riñar." (You look like children.) — For the first time that day, you had raised your voice but not in an aggressive or grotesque tone, but in pure reproach. Either you would get the attention of the two men or Rhaenyra would. — You decided to move away from your parents and return to your starting place, next to Aemond but this time, not so close to him.

Silence settled in that dark and cold room, with a tense atmosphere. — Better that than a childish argument and that could leave for something worse. — The Targaryen without one eye turned towards you with an expression, perhaps, regretful but he didn't dare to say anything at that moment.

"Glad to see you, my daughter." — Rhaenyra decided to end that silence but as if she was saying goodbye, and she kept smiling at you and continued to admire your eyes. — "Well, i'm glad to see you too, my brother." — She didn't leave Aemond's eye but kept her expression serious.

"It's good to have them back, Mom." — You returned a smile grateful for the return of your parents and praying to the good gods that your father and your husband kept their posture and did not argue anymore.

Aemond just let out his typical and common "Hm" and didn't show such a reaction or something strange, or a provocation. — You thanked him mentally for that and soon approached him again. Your act caught the attention of the king's youngest son and he missed no opportunity to join his hand with your, as he had done before Rhaenyra's arrival.

Daemon's eyes didn't want to believe what was happening in front of them, something he would never admit in his life. — It seemed that his nephew wanted to provoke him again, to make another argument happen and maybe worse. — But also for the first time in all times and moons, Aemond did not do it to provoke or defy his uncle. He did it for his beloved, for the way he shares his love and admiration for her.

And for the fact that you could be upset with him, Aemond opted for the way to apologize with the touch. A touch that seemed simple but had immense meaning.

Of course, Aemond didn't want to feel threatened in front of a person he despises so much, a person he characterizes as his rival, but he hated to keep and create these discussions in front of you. A feeling, considered rare for one who knew only the dreaded prince by sight, of regret settled over Aemond.

Aemond's thumb passed slowly over the ring, which he had chosen, and a sense of pride and passion surged through his chest.

"I hope that the days that remain here are pleasant and possible for you." — The surprising speech of the one-eyed prince was exclaimed and listened to with great attention. The boy's one good eye landed on your hand, and he again stroked the area. — "syt ao tolī, Daemon." (For you too, Daemon.)

After the last words, Aemond began to stare deeply at Daemon. Without an expression of sarcasm, or even anger, but that didn't mean that anything good had actually come out of the young man's mouth.

"and nyke hopi ao morghūljagon." (And i hope you die.) — He answered unwillingly. Rhaenyra, again, faced her husband with no desire to participate once more in a half-baked and totally childish argument. She was already completely exhausted and Daemon sighed heavily. — "We appreciate it."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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the good in me

♡ pairing: aemond x reader ♡ rating : 13+ ♡ word count : 1.5k ♡ warnings : swearing, being a dick to someone to show that you love them, lowkey not letting someone out of an arranged marriage ♡ summary : If you were any other woman, not the girl who had been betrothed to him since before you were born, you might have found him handsome. But you knew better than that. Behind that perfect face and silky hair was a being so evil, the devil would run away in fear. ♡ an : happy new year!! i owe everyone a PWF update and it is coming soon, but until then - here is a cute fic <3

“Can you please pretend to look happy?”

You turned your head away from the crowd of people surrounding the gilded coach you were currently caged inside and looked back at Prince Aemond. No, your fiancé, Aemond. He sat across from you, still donning his formal military wear, complete with every badge of honor imaginable. If you were any other woman, not the girl who had been betrothed to him since before you were born, you might have found him handsome. But you knew better. Behind that perfect face and silky hair was a being so evil, the devil would run away in fear.

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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Adoration

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem. Reader

Summary : You and Aemond have gotten married, and are off for your wedding night. How will it go for you both?

Themes : Soft | Slow burn | Smut

Word count : 5.4k words

Minors DNI | 18+

Translation:

Kēlītsos - Kitten

This is the final one-shot of three separate fanfics, this time featuring Aemond. I’ve changed several things, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all here

All eyes were on you and your husband, some staring so intently you could feel holes being burnt into your back.

The prince, on the other hand, seemed to pay the gawking no mind. He kept one arm firmly around your waist, holding you as close to him as possible as the two of you made your way around the floor, your right hand snug in his left. And so small, compared to his. The prince was so tall, towering over you, your head not even reaching his chin. He had barely uttered a sentence the entire time, save for the vows he said in front of the High Septon.

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#aemond targaryen x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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matey. I have this cute soft idea if you're interested in writing it ofc. basically fem reader where she's a lady of noble blood and knows aemond since they were kids. but there was always this awkwardness around them which slowly turned into disgust (lol bish why you lying, why you always lying) one day she's with helaena or lady friends and they ask her who she would marry from court if she had to choose which she replies with "I would marry aemond in a heartbeat" forgetting that she said that out loud with aemond overhearing it somewhere hiding behind a pillar or something lol. and the next day she keeps questioning herself why aemond is suddenly wearing his nice clothes, helping her with something? and then when she wants to bid him goodnight he replies with a sneaky "I would marry you too in a heartbeat" which ends with her all flustered or something lol. idk what this is honestly, It just popped into my head.

Hi dearest! I'd love to write a lil something based on this lovely prompt!

Aemond x reader | fluff | Aemond being as discreet as a car backfiring

Laughter surrounded you, the ladies you sat with in the fragrant gardens tittering to each other, blushes upon their dimpled cheeks. You set aside your book of Old Valyrian poems and leaned in conspiratorially. "Okay Rosaline, your turn. Who would you marry?"

Rosaline, a lovely curvy girl around your age with russet curls and a freckled face, laughed harder. "I cannot say, lady Y/N. Though lord Jason Lannister is rather easy on the eyes is he not?"

You shrugged. "If you go for that sort of pomposity, I suppose."

"Well, who do you fancy, Y/N?" Rosaline asked, huffing at you with slightly narrowed brown eyes.

You hesitated, all eyes now upon you, growing more curious with each second of silence.

"Well? Now you have to tell us!" A girl with straight brown hair piped up, her doe eyes mischievous. "You were so eager to hear our own secrets!"

"I...I've always. Well. Prince Aemond if you must know." Your fingers clasped together upon your lap, so tight your knuckles went white.

There was a beat of stunned silence, then the girls lapsed into another fit of giggles.

"Prince Aemond?" Rosaline choked.

"Haven't you been friends since you were children?"

"I thought they went for their siblings?"

"He doesn't have an eye, Y/N! How could you possibly think he's a suitable match?"

"Excuse me." You said rather flatly. "When any of you ride the largest dragon in Westeros, then you can talk."

"He is rather easy on the eyes." A Tyrell girl spoke in a thin voice. "Though I've heard rumors circulating he is rather callous and keeps to himself."

"He's not callous." You defended. "Though we do have our disagreements."

"Oh yes!" Rosaline tittered again. You fought the urge to smack her. "I've heard you two have been at odds the past few weeks. Lover's quarrel?"

"I-we are not-where did you hear...you know what it doesn't matter." You rose abruptly, forgetting the book beside you on the bench. "Aemond alone is worth a hundred times more than all of you put together. I would marry him in a heartbeat."

"What's under that horrid eyepatch he wears?" A sneering Lannister lady sniggered.

"Something far more interesting than what's under your garish skirts!" You shot back, a shocked silence following your impetuous outburst.

You cast one last scorching look over the gathered women, before gathering your dress and taking your leave of them, face burning.

You retired to your chambers, skipping the dinner feast, not wishing to see those girls again that day. You were still fuming. It was true, you and Aemond had not spoken since a heated argument a few weeks prior. However, this was not the first time you two had been at odds. Nor would it be the last, you reckoned.

A soft knock at your door roused you from your contemplation beside the fire. You rose from the sofa, crossing the carpeted floor and swinging the heavy oak door open to reveal Aemond standing in the doorway.

"Oh!" You said, too surprised to come up with anything witty.

"Walk with me?" Aemond held out his arm for you to take. His hair looked like it was freshly brushed, shining silver in the torchlight as he guided you down the hall into a deserted courtyard.

The evening air was alive with birdsong, the sky above a shock of orange and red as the sun made its western descent.

"I came to apologize." Aemond said as the two of you meandered out into the gardens you had spent your afternoon in.

"Apologize? You? Be still my heart!"

"Don't make me regret it, Y/N." The prince groaned, releasing your arm and turning to you, the vista of the city's red roofs and the sparkling sea framed behind him. "I behaved...rather appallingly and I regret not coming to you sooner."

"You were a bit of an ass, tis true." You smiled impishly at the way he fought down a grimace at your words.

"As if you were any better."

"I was right." You folded your arms across your chest.

Aemond clasped his hands tightly behind his straight back. "It is a matter of opinion whether Dorne is more progressive than us."

"No, Aemond. I'm afraid that's a fact."

Aemond breathed hard through his nostrils; you watched with interest as he collected himself. "I came to apologize not to argue further."

He opened his jacket and pulled out a small box from a pocket within. "And to give you this as a sign of my...remorse."

You squinted at him. "Did your mother tell you to say that?"

Aemond didn't answer, his brow raising at you as he gestured for you to take his gift. You lifted the box from his palm, undoing the string and opening it. A silver brooch lay within, bearing the insignia of your house. Small finely crafted letters spelled out your house words below the image.

"It's quite lovely, my prince." Your face softened as you took it out and fasted the piece to your bodice. "I will wear it with pride. Thank you."

Aemond graced you with a genuine smile, his eye lingering upon the pin now secured above your heart. You tracked his gaze with interest as it roved across your curves before snapping guiltily back up to your face.

"See something you like?" You teased, flashing a grin at him.

Aemond didn't answer, though he held your gaze as you stepped closer, noting how the breath caught in his throat at your sudden proximity. Your brow furrowed as you looked at the odd expression on his face, nothing you had seen there before.

"Are you well, Aemond?"

"No." Aemond shook his head. "Let us continue our walk."

The two of you walked side by side around the gardens, the deepening twilight enveloping you, stars unveiling one by one in the dusky sky. Your knuckles brushed against Aemond's, you extended your pinky, hooking it around his. Heat rose to your face as Aemond's fingers slid to tangle with your own, your hands intertwined as you strode along the path back to the Keep.

He did not break his grip on you, even as you stood again before your chamber door.

"This is where I bid you a good night, Y/N." He spoke softly.

"Yes, it is." You sounded breathless, not pulling away as he turned to face you directly, leaning down as he brushed his lips to the back of your hand.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Aemond?"

"I would also marry you in a heartbeat."

You stopped breathing. He had overheard the whole exchange in the gardens. Blood rushed in your ears as, wide eyed, you watched as Aemond lingered long enough to take in your expression before he turned on a booted heel and strode down the hallway.

Gathering your wits once more, you shouted after him just as he reached the corner. "Aemond!" He halted, looking back at you with ill-concealed amusement. "Get back here or so help me..." You pointed to the ground in front of your door.

"We can continue this discussion tomorr-"

"No. No, you don't get to say something like that and just walk away." You hissed, leaving your chamber open as you stomped down the hallway to where he stood waiting, his lilac eye sparkling with delight.

Aemond took your forearms in his hands when you reached for him, pulling you in so quickly you stumbled, falling against his chest. "You overheard me today?" You asked, looking up at his angular face as his fingers traced your jaw.

"Mmm. I did indeed. You're quite the sight in your anger." His eye glittered. "Even more enchanting when it's on my behalf."

"They were wrong to say such things." You breathed, your voice only a whisper as the distance between your faces slowly closed.

"I rest easy knowing I have a champion in you, to defend my honor." Aemond chuckled, his breath tickling your lips.

You weren't sure who moved first, or if it was simultaneous, but you felt the press of his mouth against yours, your eyes fluttering closed as your hands buried themselves in his silken hair.

He moved against you, backing you up until you hit the wall, a gasp at the impact opening your mouth to him as he began exploring you with his slick tongue. The scent of him surrounding you, the feel of him caging you in, pressing his knee between your thighs, drew a soft whimper from your lips that he drank down with relish.

"Do that again." He murmured, tugging your hair until you exposed your throat to his touches.

"Make me." You smirked at the arched ceiling, quickly losing what little composure you had won back as he took your challenge to heart.

Aemond made you emit many more sounds of pleasure throughout the course of that night. Stifling your cries with his large hand at one point so as to not alert any nearby guard patrols. With the promises of a lifetime together to come he claimed you as his own, swearing in return to be yours until his dying day.

#aemond targaryen x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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Part 2 now up!

Oooh, yes yes I know exactly what I want to write for these lovely Anon prompts! (edit: oh yeah, Aemond popped off in this one...I was expecting to be writing harsh words, and maybe threatening...but nah he uh kills them)

Aemond x wife!reader | crude language | protective Aemond | violence

Moonlight washed over your face, the cool night breeze rustling your skirts as you snuck outside the Keep walls. You knew he waited for you, just below the descending stone steps in front of you, awash in silver light.

You saw a figure in a cloak, hooded and tall, lithe of frame, waiting for you, his hand on the banister as he turned toward the sound of your hurrying feet. "Y/N." Your name on his tongue like honey as your husband extended his arm for you to take. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost leaving our rooms."

"Aemond." You chided. "That's only happened once, and I had Aegon as my escort, we were both thoroughly in our cups."

"Mmhmm." He guided you swiftly down the remaining stairs, out into the open streets of King's Landing, the Red Keep a looming fortress at your backs. "You were undetected?"

"I had to navigate around some guardsmen, but yes. No one knows we're sneaking off to the fire festival." You looked up at him from under your own hood. "Why are we sneaking, Aemond?"

"Anonymity is half the fun." He mused, squeezing your arm briefly. "I'd rather enjoy the festivities with my lady without peasantry taking notice of our presence."

Firelight up ahead caught your eye. As the two of you strode forward the quiet darkened streets gave way to raucous revelry. Small folk laughing and cheering as fire dancers whirled and spat flame. There was an open pavilion with a makeshift stage whereon actors flounced about in comedic costumes. Bussers carrying platters of drink and food navigated their way through the chattering crowd. The smell of baked goods and sweet delicacies teased your nostrils as you inhaled, sharing a smile with Aemond.

Aemond did not release his grip on you the whole time you indulged in as many festival activities as you could. At all times he had a hand gripping your cloak fabric or tangled his fingers with your own. More often than not, he would watch your face rather than the performances of the acrobats and fire eaters. You would be gazing at them open mouthed in wonder at their skill, then your eyes would flick to Aemond's face, and he would be studying your expression with a soft half-smile upon his curved lips, the firelight reflecting in his lilac eye.

As the night wore on, your feet began to ache despite the support of your leather boots. You were loath to leave, even as the crowd began thinning and the booths of food slowly turned in their wares.

A group of men, huddled together near a mossy stone wall, caught your attention as one of them said Aemond's name in a gruff voice. His fellows erupted into laughter at whatever he'd just said about your husband, and your fists curled into instinctive fists. Aemond's hand at your waist indicated he heard it too, and you glanced up to see he was staring at ground, his lips firmly pressed together as he concentrated on overhearing their conversation.

You both didn't have to strain your ears overmuch as the next words were clear to be heard, spoken in a deep drunken drawl. "He's lucky to have landed a lady like her."

His friends grunted in agreement.

Another man spoke up in a reedy voice. "Landed?" He scoffed. "Bedded is more like. What I wouldn't give to get a piece of her."

You noticed Aemond had stilled so completely, he had stopped breathing as his narrowed eye flitted to the huddle of men.

"Man like that Aemond Targaryen. Missing an eye and all that and still gets between the legs of something like her." A rail-thin man took a derisive swig from a bottle. "I would give her a good fucking and she'd be able to stomach my face."

"Get bent Tarful." His companion growled, pushing the thin man on the shoulder. "I'd love me the chance to put a bastard in her belly though."

"Aemond no!" You hissed, grabbing onto your husband's cloak but to no avail. The fabric was wrenched from your grip as Aemond strode forward, throwing back the hood of his cloak as he unsheathed his sword.

There were three of them, inebriated as they were, and only one of Aemond. You crouched to the ground, feeling around for a loose stone, anything that could be used as a weapon should the need arise.

The men didn't take note of Aemond's presence until he was almost upon them.

"What the shit?"

"Who the-"

"Oh, hells take me."

Horrified recognition slid across their faces as they took in the sight of Aemond's livid face. The prince stood rigid, a hand behind his taut back as he pressed the point of his sword into the eldest man's throat.

"You dare speak of my wife in such a manner." Aemond could barely speak for the overwhelming rage constricting his throat. "You dare have such vile thoughts about her."

His long silver hair shone under the moon, cascading down his back and over his shoulders, his violet eye aflame, clearly indicating who he was even to the drunken men before him.

The reedy man reached for a small dagger at his belt, drawing it and stepping toward the enraged prince.

"Foolish." Aemond seethed, barely glancing at him as his sword flashed in a blur of movement.

A spray of blood, the man crumpled. You gasped, looking away as you covered your mouth.

"Y/N. Leave." Aemond commanded, his tone still hard and imperious. "Head back to the Keep. I will catch up with you."

"Aemond..."

"Go!"

You scrambled upright, running across the deserted courtyard, only glancing back once to see the remaining two men cowering before the Targaryen prince, his long sword still extended, now dripping red.

Few others were still in the streets, and they paid you no mind as you hurried away, back up the hill to the Red Keep. Your stomach twisted with the memory of those men's violating words, and the sound of that body hitting the cobblestones with dull finality.

Aemond was gentle and kind when he was with you. You almost forgot he had the blood of Old Valyria coursing hot through his veins. His fury scared you as much as it thrilled you. You had never before seen this side of your husband. Now you understood a little better why the Targaryens were so feared and respected, the words of their family running through your mind.

Fire and blood.

#aemond targaryen x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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The Silver Dragon Masterlist

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, Lady of Runestone, was not born of love. Nor passion. Nor even a sense of duty. She was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

But even a child born of such darkness can find her way to the light.

With her mother dead, and father flown across the Narrow Sea with a new wife, the girl is taken in by her Aunt, the Queen Alicent Hightower, to be raised among the little family she has left. There, she finds her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. The two spend long nights in the palace library together, studying the histories of both Old Valyria and the First Men, seeking to understand who they are and where they fit in the world.

But finding that place proves more difficult than in the fairy tales they read. The seeds of disaster were laid long before they were born, and as tensions in the family rise, it seems as though their places may begin to diverge.

Will they let themselves be pulled apart as the dragons dance?

Warnings: Mentions of rape

Chapter 1: The Bronze Bitch's Daughter

Prince Daemon Targaryen has grown tired of his Lady wife, the “Bronze Bitch” Rhea Royce. But he is not so easily rid of her. She survives not only his brutal attack, but his cruel violation of her. Though she remains broken and weak, she endures just long enough to deliver a child: a girl of silver hair and steely eyes.

Chapter 2: The Bench

On Arianwyn’s thirteenth nameday, a grand reception is held in her honor. Though most guests are not in attendance for the Lady of Runestone, but rather the Princess Rhaenyra, who is mere weeks away from giving birth. But Arianwyn does not care, for Aemond is there. And he has a present for her.

Chapter 3: The Book

Though Arianwyn wants nothing more than to devour the book Aemond gifted her, she finds herself tear her mind from Aegon’s taunting words. But as she recalls a difficult conversation with her cousin and lady’s maid from the night before, she decides that perhaps she does not want to be married – ever.

Chapter 4: Rune of Endurance

Over the next few months, the young scholars begin to make their own translations of the Runes of the First Men. However, the lives of a Prince and a Lady are not all leisure. After a harrowing encounter in the Dragonpit, Aemond needs Arianwyn to comfort him.

Chapter 5: The Funeral

As the Targaryen and Velaryon households gather on Driftmark to mourn the late Lady Laena, Arianwyn is anxious about meeting not only her half-sisters, but her father for the very first time.

Chapter 6: Cold Fire

Having been worse than ignored by Daemon at the funeral, Arianwyn finally comes face to face with her father.

Chapter 7: The Beach

After overhearing a conversation between Prince Daemon and Corlys Velaryon at dinner, Aemond recruits Arianwyn to help him achieve a lifelong dream.

Chapter 8: The Tunnel

On their way back from the beach, Aemond and Arianwyn are confronted by their four furious cousins.

Chapter 9: The Decisions of Fathers

Aemond is permanently maimed, Arianwyn wounded. As their family quarrels over how to deal with the aftermath of the fight, all they can do is cling to each other.

Chapter 10: Prayer

Faced with the possibility of their separation, Aemond joins Arianwyn in prayer.

Chapter 11: Dearest Friend

As Arianwyn adapts to her new surroundings, and Aemond heals from his wound, the pair take comfort in the letters they exchange.

Chapter 12: The Girl in the Tower

With the knowledge that she will not soon be released from her father’s control, Arianwyn finds what comforts she can on Dragonstone, and receives a gift from Aemond.

Chapter 13: The Sapphire

Aemond struggles to adjust to Arianwyn’s absence. But on his fifteenth nameday, Ser Gerold Royce arrives with a bronze-wrapped present.

Chapter 14: The Garden

For the first time in the six years she’s been on Dragonstone, Princess Rhaenyra asks for Arianwyn to join her for a walk in the gardens.

Chapter 15: A Holy Sight

At long last, Arianwyn returns to King’s Landing.

Chapter 16: The Legend of Gahaelon and Aeremys

After being reunited after so long, Aemond has one request of Arianwyn: to read him a story.

Chapter 17: Families

Arianwyn is joyfully greeted by Queen Alicent, Princess Helaena, and her young children. But the happy reunion is soon ended as she is called to attend dinner with her Daemon, Rhaenyra, and their children.

Chapter 18: The Petition

When Vaemond Velaryon petitions the Crown to grant him succession of Driftmark, Arianwyn is faced with her worst fears.

Chapter 19: Final Tribute

Arianwyn delays her escape to attend the King’s family dinner to say goodbye to Aemond. But emotions run high, and a final toast may jeopardize her plans.

Chapter 20: The Library

Daemon confronts his daughter.

Chapter 21: Beneath the Weirwood Tree

Arianwyn meets Aemond in the Godswood.

Chapter 22: The Bedding

To prevent Daemon from contesting their marriage, Aemond and Arianwyn proceed with the Bedding Ceremony.

Chapter 23: The Shears

The following morning, Aemond and Arianwyn tell the Queen of what happened. But they soon realize an important figure is missing.

Chapter 24: The Trial of Brynna Taler

Aemond, Arianwyn, and Queen Alicent race to find Brynna. Larys Strong informs them that she has been taken to the Throne Room by none other than Daemon, who claims that it was Brynna herself that attacked him the night before. Not only that, but he also accuses Aemond of forcing Arianwyn to marry him, and of raping her so that the marriage could not be dissolved.

Chapter 25: The Breakfast

With Brynna safe and Daemon on his way back to Dragonstone with the rest of the Blacks, Aemond and Arianwyn enjoy some time alone. However, they are quickly interrupted by the Queen, her children, and her grandchildren joining them for a family breakfast.

Chapter 26: The Women

Arianwyn, Helaena, Alicent, and Brynna sip tea (and wine) and enjoy a moment of relaxation as the dressmakers and craftspeople of King’s Landing present them with their wares.

Chapter 27: Pillow Talk

Together in bed, Aemond & Aria exchange new vows and old secrets.

Chapter 28: Vhagar & Emrys

Six years after the beach on Driftmark, the Queen of All Dragons and Emrys, the young black dragon called Balerion, Second of His Name, by the smallfolk of King’s Landing, finally meet.

Chapter 29: The Bath

Aemond and Arianwyn relax with a shared bath after their dragonflight.

Chapter 30: Storytime

Arianwyn is summoned to the Queen's chambers to fulfill a promise she made to Prince Jaehaerys.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc

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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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I Would Die For You In Secret [Part 2]

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x targaryen!reader, various characters x reader (platonic)

summary: you have avoided Jace ever since the night you had dinner with your family, but you cannot avoid him forever. if you would not go to him and Jace would not go to you, your family would have to fix things in their own way (5.4k)

warning: angst with a happy ending, incest (again reader is Rhaenyra’s daughter and Jace’s sister), self loathing, miscommunication.

notes: I added some tags for other pairing besides Aemond and the reader because the reader interacts with different characters other than Aemond, but the only romantic pairing is between Aemond and the reader.

[Part 1]

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#aemond targaryen x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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I Would Die For You In Secret

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x targaryen!reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x targaryen!reader (platonic)

summary: when your brother asks you who in the castle has earned your affections there is no good way to tell him it is the person he hates most (1.8k)

warnings: angst, sibling tension (the reader and Jace), incest, the reader is Rhaenyra’s daughter and Jace’s sibling, slight AU

notes: I put Jace as a pairing in this because they do interact quite a bit in this, though it is strictly platonic. if I make a part two to this don’t be surprised.

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#aemond targaryen x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope · 1 year

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See No Evil, Hear No Evil {1}

Aemond One-Eye x deaf!fem!reader Summary: Love blossoms when you get to know the sweet man and not the cocky Prince. Warnings: fluff, Aegon being a predator, more fluff. I know lip reading is not easy or infallible but for this the reader is able to read lips almost perfectly. WC: 4.9k

Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||

Couples were dancing around the space that had earlier been occupied by long tables for the feast, their joyous smiles twisting your gut with jealousy. No one would ask you to join them, not when you could not hear the very music that set the pace.

Returning your attention to the table that you were seated at, you watched the men and women intently. Some glared at you when they caught your eyes on them, waving their hand as if it could blow you out of sight and out of mind. Moving on to the next, you found a single blue eye staring back.

Prince Aemond. He was another social outcast, though his personality was as much to blame as the jagged scar that ran through his left eye. There was always a taunting smirk on his lips and a cold gleam in his eye, it sent the courtiers vying for the hand of anyone but him. Not even the power hungry, attention seekers dared to subject themselves to his viperous nature.

His brother captured his attention and whatever spell had kept you enthralled with his stare broke. The two Targaryen princes leaned together and Aemond’s lips pursed as Aegon spoke with nervous mannerisms that warned you they would have been whispering, but you could read his lips.

“There is something desirable about a silent woman,” Aegon said as his eyes flickered your way. “But I would do anything to make her scream.”

Aemond’s lips pulled back with a sneer before he answered, “I can only imagine the depravities that fill your mind.”

“I do not think you have the creativity needed to imagine them, little brother.”

“Thank the gods for that blessing,” Aemond said as he leant back. “She is too intelligent for you anyhow.”

“Intelligent?” Aegon rocked back with a laugh that drew the others’ attention to him. “She cannot hear and does not speak.”

Aemond turned his eye back to you. “Then she must see a great deal, for there is definitely intelligence behind those eyes.”

“Then I would face her down when I bed her.”

You looked away and wrapped your fingers around the silver goblet so they were occupied and the trembling was hopefully unnoticeable. You had expected no better of the eldest son of the King, he was known to stick his fingers in many pies - though sometimes he didn’t stop at his fingers.

You might have been deaf to the tales the maids spoke of as they prepared you but you saw everything from the tears in their eyes to the bruises barely hidden by their uniforms. Just the thought of Aegon even noticing you had a knot twisting in your stomach.

Pushing the velvet-lined chair back, you rose from the table and nodded silently to the sickly Viserys. He gave a weak dismal wave of his hand that rested on the arm of his chair and you pressed your fingertips to your chin in return, thanking him for permitting your leave. After flattening the layers of skirts that had creased beneath the table, you laced your fingers together and ignored the two stares that watched your retreat from the dining room.

The feeling of spiders dancing down your spine didn’t ease, even after you had snaked your way through Red Keep to the atheneum. There would normally be a maester wandering the quiet halls full of books, organising the rows into alphabetical fashion and finding requested pieces for others, but with the late hour it was empty.

The scent of dust and beeswax greeted you as you closed the door behind you. Someone had been waxing a leather bound book cover and the yellow bar had been left beside a half shiny cover as if they might return at any moment. Walking over to the small table, you opened the cover to see what the book was and found it to be a personal journal of Aegon the Conqueror.

Warmth touched your nape and your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath as you spun around, your legs tangling in the skirts and your hip hitting the table with a sharp jolt of pain. Aemond stepped back with a smirk, his hands raised in innocence that was betrayed by the amusement in his eye.

“Apologies,” he said. “I did not mean to startle you.”

You rubbed your palm over the bruise that would no doubt be forming and narrowed your eyes at the blatant lie. “I shall rephrase, I did not mean for you to get hurt.” Aemond’s smirk grew until his lips parted and his shoulders bounced with a laugh. “I know you can understand me.”

He reached for you and you froze at the closeness, and his scent that washed over you as his hair nearly brushed your cheek. He smelt of the woods you had run through as a child, pine and earth, fresh and rich. Then there was the fruity yet tarty hint of wine that followed as he exhaled slowly, as if he had taken an equally long inhale of the floral perfume you wore.

As quick as he had come for you, he was gone, Aegon’s journal with him and you let out a shuddering breath as you realised you were not the object he had been reaching for. He seemed to take pleasure in the confusion on your face as he smirked once again and tucked the novel under his arm with a mocking bow.

His eye lingered on your hip as he straightened. “Take care, milady.”

You could not breathe again until the door sealed shut but you no longer felt the calm that you usually found in the athenium, the books no longer welcoming as the tall shelves towered above you with their dark shadows. Angered by the effect Aemond had in your place of sanctuary, you swiped a book from the closest shelf and made for your chambers and the thick lock bolt that you could hide behind.

The courtyard was busier than usual as you took a seat on a stool against the Keep walls. The airy space had become a favourite place to sit since you were not allowed to leave the high red brick walls without an escort. Since this was not your House territory you had to rely upon King Viserys’ white cloaked guards but you did not wish to make a fuss so you had not utilised the soldiers.

The sky was blue and the clouds that had blanketed the city at dawn were quickly evaporated by the heat and it enticed many others to step into the sunshine. Pulling your small bound notebook from the pocket in your skirt, you unwrapped a stick of coal and looked around for something to catch your eyes. The twin guards, Arryk and Erryk, were huddled close as they entered through the gates and your hand moved across the page.

E: She paid another maid to leave last night in the cover of darkness. That is the fourth this month. A: What did you expect? Bastards don’t belong in the Keep. E: Someone needs to stop him. A: Careful, brother, what you speak could be considered treason.

They disappeared deeper into the Keep and you read over the dialogue trying to understand what they had been talking of when a shadow passed over the page. You slammed the book closed and looked up, momentarily blinded by the bright sun reflecting off the head of long silvery white hair.

The stick of coal had fallen to the dirt in your rush to hide the page and Aemond crouched before you to gather it, holding it out in his palm. Your eyes lingered on the calluses from hours of training and the thin scars that littered the skin that peeked out from under his tunic.

You had not seen him since the incident in the atheneum and you had forgotten the connection that had seemed palpable in the days gone by but now you were once again caught by his eye. You had failed to notice the flecks of violet in the pale blue iris when you last saw them but that was in a dimly lit room, in the sun they were almost iridescent.

It wasn’t until he took your hand and unfurled your fingers that you realised how long you had stared, breaking away with embarrassment as he placed the coal into your palm. The hairs on your nape rose under the intensity of the moment and you curled your fingers around the coal gently so as not to crush your writing tool. You slipped the coal back into your pocket and pressed your fingers to your chin.

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a small smile. He reached for your face and your breath froze in your lungs as he ran his thumb softly across jaw. “Can’t have a smudge of coal hiding your beauty.”

You were certain you read his lips wrong but the flutter in your chest betrayed your common sense and a smile tugged at your lips. His eye followed the curve of your smile and he had to shake his head to clear his thoughts before rising to his feet.

“Care to walk with me, milady?”

You could feel eyes on you as the crowd snooped to see why the One Eyed Prince would be talking to you. You had long ago learned to ignore the stares but for some reason that seemed a harder task today. Tucking your notebook away, you accepted his offer with a nod and let him lead the way to the Royal gardens that were usually off limits.

“I must admit, you intrigue me,” Aemond said after stopping beneath the weirwood tree and facing you. “You and your notebook that you carry everywhere.”

You automatically pressed your hand to the reassuring weight and frowned, wondering where this was leading to.

“May I see it?”

Your fingers tightened around it and you shook your head adamantly. A heat flared across your skin at the thought of him reading your notes and looking at the drawings that you attempted. He appeared within the pages far too often for your own liking.

“As prince, I could demand it of you,” he said as he stepped closer. The wind changed and caught his hair, flicking wayward strands over his shoulder and the scent of lemon verbena shampoo drifted your way along with the purely masculine musk of sweat from training.

You walked away, needing to clear your senses that he overpowered much like his very presence in the garden. The notebook suddenly seemed like an anchor and each step was heavy as you took a seat on the edge of a long bench in the shade. From the corner of your vision you saw Aemond sit at the other end, the entire length separating him from you.

Tap, tap, tap.

Your fingers tingled with the vibrations as they rested atop the bench beside your legs.

Tap, tap, tap.

You turned to face Aemond and found his smirk growing as he used his fingernail to tap and scratch the wood.

“You can feel that, can’t you?”

You nodded your head and his smile grew, transforming his face and erasing the harsh lines that were usually shaped with a scowl. You startled with the realisation that you found him handsome and your palms grew warm as you wiped them on your dress that was suddenly too heavy for the spring weather.

Tap, tap, tap.

You were pulled from your thoughts and looked back at the prince, hoping he could not see the effect he had on you but the intensity to his stare made you feel naked, as if every thought you ever had was laid bare for him to read.

His lips parted with a sharp intake and he leant closer, though he was still far from reach as he mouthed the word, “Beautiful.”

There was something therapeutic in being around the horses and you often found yourself wandering into the stables. The servants and stableboys no longer sent you odd looks as they grew used to your presence most days and you were grateful to be left in solitude as you combed the black and grey haired stallion that had caught your eye.

You had just placed the comb back on the hook that hung beside the gate when you felt vibrations in the wood beneath your hand.

Tap, tap, tap.

Stunned, you turned to find Aemond resting against the gate with a lazy smile on his face.

“I hope you aren’t planning on stealing my horse, gorgeous.”

You rolled your eyes and didn't dignify him with an answer as you reached into your skirt pockets and found the carrot you had stolen from dinner the night before. Aemond’s shadow followed you as he opened the gate and stepped inside the stall, his hand landing gently on your shoulder so you were aware of where he was, as if you hadn’t been keeping track.

“No wonder Storm was slow to gallop,” Aemond said as he faced you from the other side of his horse, his hand petting down the long mane. “You have been spoiling him.”

You kept your palm flat as you Storm’s lips pulled back and he greedily took the carrot. The name suited the horse with his colourings of the turbulent stormy skies and you scratched his ear while he finished his snack.

“As much as I enjoy hearing my own voice, there must be another way for us to communicate.” Aemond stepped around the front of Storm and you frowned as you no longer felt the urge to back away from him as you had in the past. “Teach me the signs I have seen you do.”

You were shocked by his request even though you knew him to be an intellect and a scholar, the fact that he spent so many mornings training to be a warrior seemed to fill you with the idea that he was more brute than student. Your nursemaid had been the one to help you create the secret language but it had never really expanded past what a child might need to convey. You had relied upon written communication but that was only useful with the highborns who were educated, unfortunately most of the servants were illiterate.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the notebook you were never without and tore out a blank page before he could see what secrets the book held. He watched as your handwriting sprawled across the page and you could see his chest bouncing with a laugh before he took it from you.

He slipped the note into the folds of his cloak with an amused smile, not at all offended by the message you had given him. You smell. Bathe first, then I will teach you.

“I shall meet you in the library, milady, after bathing of course.” He bowed at the waist though his eye never left you and you didn’t see the mocking smile he had given you the last time he had made the gesture. The pale blue orb seemed to zero in on the pulse at your neck, as if he could see how rapidly it raced in his intense presence. “I shall see you soon.”

Three Months Later

You had seen neither hide nor hair of Aemond as you strolled the halls of the Keep, the tourney for his brother’s name day was about to begin and you did not wish to enter the highborn box alone. Giving up hope on finding him, you followed the few other ladies who were late and slipped into the back row in the hopes your presence would go unnoticed.

The bench seat kept shifting as ladies rose with their garlands, tossing the favours to the lords who asked in hopes they might win their challenge with the luck. Each time they moved you cursed inwardly and settled your heart that pounded erratically, wishing the entire event be over with.

You were tracing the embroidered floral design on your skirts when a hand waved in front of your face and you nearly fell back in fright. The only person you knew it wasn’t was Aemond, he knew to touch your shoulder to get your attention so as not to give you a heart attack. Peering up as you clutched your chest, you found Lady Reyne looking apologetic as she pointed to the front where the jousting course was set.

Aemond sat atop his horse, patiently waiting with a smile as he caught your eyes. A thousand questions ran through your head as you rose from the bench and clutched the favour of woven asters and budding chrysanthemums to your breast. You could feel the eyes of the entire crowd following your steps down to the front of the highborn box and past King Viserys, but there was only one that held you captive.

“May I ask for your favour, milady?”

You nodded with a smile, grateful that you had taken his advice to make the flower crown. When he said that someone may ask one of you, your head had fallen back with a silent laugh before you shook your head, but he had insisted and you could not deny him.

Casting the favour out, it twirled down the length of his jousting pole until it reached his hand. His smile was brighter than the sun as he pulled at the reins of his stallion and made his way to the lists. His mother caught your hand with a gentle smile as you passed by and she patted the space beside her in invitation.

You ringed your fingers nervously as you watched Aemond’s armour shimmer in the sunlight while his horse paced, awaiting the drop of the flag to begin the match. Alicent placed her hand over yours, unclenching them and lacing them with hers as she fretted over her son. You could tell she liked the idea of seeing her son facing a jousting opponent as much as you did. You had seen the heinous injuries one could get in the sport.

Alicent patted your hand and you tore your eyes away from Aemond to look at her as she said, “He will be fine, dear. Aemond is one of the best.”

You nodded and hoped it looked reassuring before you noticed the flag drop. Aemond kicked his boots in the stirrups and his horse took off, kicking a spray of sand up behind him. You barely breathed as he raced along the fence and levelled out his pole, his opponent doing the same. Time seemed to slow as the poles crossed each other and crashed wood against armour, shattering into splinters.

The air in your lungs exploded from you as you jumped to your feet and rushed to the rail to see Aemond still atop his horse. His opponent was sprawled across the sand but Aemond paid him no mind as he circled back to the rail where you waited and pulled his helmet from his head before shaking out his long hair that was mussed up.

“Is your heart still in your chest?” Aemond asked as he looked up at you, amusement teasing a smirk on his lips.

You pointed to yourself and curled your fingers over your face before pointing to him, his lips parting with a laugh that shook his shoulders.

“Why are you mad at me? I won.”

Waving him off, you noticed the next opponents were arriving to request their favours and he shot them a dirty look as they interrupted you.

“Meet me in the library.”

You nodded and moved away as two ladies reached the railing, missing the smile Alicent had after watching the interaction.

The tourney would continue all day so it was no surprise to find the athenium empty when you arrived and took a seat on the plush settee. The stained glass windows cast a colourful shadow across the stone floor and you reached into your pocket for your notebook and coal to capture the image.

You were just finishing with the shading and smudging the shadows onto the parchment with your fingertip when you felt the air shift around your face. A smile was already pulling on your lips when you looked up to find Aemond dressed once more in his finery and his hair still damp from bathing. The citrus tart of his soap teased your nose and you reached for him as you closed your book.

He let you pull him onto the cushioned seat beside you and chuckled to himself as you ran your hands over his fitted shirt before he caught your hands. “I am unharmed.”

You narrowed your eyes at him until he released your hands to continue to make their own assessment. When you were satisfied that he was not just trying to placate you, you shuffled closer and slipped under his arm that he opened for you in invitation.

While waiting for his arrival you had been wondering how you could return the gesture he had made for you in front of the entire city and he could sense your unrest as you shifted in your seat. Unable to look him in the eye, you grabbed your notebook and placed it on his lap.

His fingers traced your jaw and turned you to face him so you could see what he had to say. “Are you sure?”

You nodded before you lost your courage and he carefully opened the bound covering as if it were an invaluable, fragile piece of history. He treated it knowing how you cherished it.

You did not look to see what pages he perused, some drawings and some snippets of passing conversations, but instead watched his reactions. With each turn of the page you knew what he would find and your nervousness grew. The drawings of Red Keep and the Royal Gardens would soon change and he would see himself through your eyes.

It had not taken long for him to become your muse, in fact in the last few months it had become an addiction. There was not a day that passed where you didn’t want to capture his likeness, sometimes it was when the sunlight caught his hair or the smile that he reserved just for you.

His lips parted with surprise and you knew he had reached the moment you had first given in to your desire and drawn him content in the gardens. Your palms turned clammy and your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest as he turned each page until he reached the last and closed it.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he turned to you and you saw his eye shimmering with unshed tears. Of all the reactions, that was not one that you could have expected. Aemond was always so collected and cool until you had peeled back the layers of his self-protection but this was the last mask to fall away.

You reached for his cheek, cupping the warm skin as you wiped away the single tear that escaped before he closed his eye and leaned into the touch.

“Thank you,” he said as he opened his eye again, blinking away the rest of the tears before they could fall. “No one draws my eyes.”

You frowned at the statement and he sighed from the heavy breath of air that brushed over your skin. “The artists who take our portraits do so from my right, this,” he tapped his leather eye patch, “makes them uncomfortable.”

Tears welled in your own eyes as you saw the pain he still felt though the wound had long healed. Though it was compromising, you rose to your knees and straddled his legs, shock flitting across his face before fear seeped in as you reached for the leather patch.

“It is not pretty, milady.”

You circled your palm over your chest and you thought he would deny your plea for permission as he pursed his lips but then he bowed his head with a nod.

His eye stared intently at you as you traced your finger over the leather that had been warmed by his body heat. The smooth material was softer than you thought it would be as you eased it from his head and bared his scar for the first time. Your breath rushed through your parted lips as you saw the crude line that had carved through his eyebrow, down his eye and across his cheek.

He turned away and your heart clenched as he hid himself from you but he had to know, it wasn’t the scar that caused your reaction, you were horrified at how he had been hurt so badly. Cradling his cheeks in your hands, you gently guided him back to you but still he refused eye contact.

There was only one way you could show him how you felt and your stomach fluttered at the thought as you pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his cheek, just below the scar. His breath warmed your shoulder as he shuddered beneath your touch and you kissed him a little higher, grazing the skin that changed from smooth to raised. The tension in his shoulders relaxed with each soft kiss and when you pulled back you were able to admire the sapphire that replaced his missing eye without him turning away.

“Are you not repulsed?”

Your brows knitted together in confusion as you shook your head and stood up, instantly missing the warmth of his hands where they had rested on your hips. He watched curiously as you grabbed your notebook from where he had placed it and fished your pockets for the coal. Though you wanted to sit close to him it was not the right place for what you wanted to do and so you took a seat on the settee opposite.

Not liking how far you were away either, he tried to stand and join you but the stern finger you pointed at him had him sinking back into the cushions while you found a blank page. He remained still as you captured his likeness on the page and the colourful shadows of the stained glass window reached his hair.

You knew of merchants that could recreate colours with ochre and malachite collected from Essos but even with your family’s wealth the rare minerals remained out of reach. You were left with the common sticks of coal and on your name day you often received the finer illustrator of graphite.

Satisfied by the portrayal, from the long strands of hair that were now dry to the strong jawline that had felt better than imagined in your hands, you rose from the chair. Aemond welcomed you back into his arms and eagerly looked at the page that was still open. His throat bounced with the swallow he took and you chewed on your bottom lip as you waited with bated breath.

He turned slowly so you could see his lips before he spoke, “This is how you see me?”

You looked at the picture and smiled at the face of a confident, handsome young man as he faced the world without having to hide. Looking back at Aemond, you placed your hand over his heart and nodded.

His arms pulled you closer as he dipped his head and your body trembled in anticipation. Every nerve ending flared to life when his lips caressed yours ever so softly and your hands tangled in his hair as you returned the kiss with more force. You could feel his smile against you before he gave you what you needed and deepened the kiss, stealing your breath until you broke away feeling lightheaded.

His thumb traced your tingling lips as you slipped back into the seat, tucked under his arm, and you saw his kiss-swollen lips. You imagined yours looked the same and heat flooded you with the thought of being caught in the compromising state. A sliver of panic grew in your chest, if rumours spread then you would be shamed from your family so you scampered from the chair and brushed your hands over your skirts.

Alarm erupted from Aemond at the sudden change and he watched you right yourself, hurt haunting his blue eye before he too rose. “Please do not regret what we shared.”

You froze, your jaw dropping at what he had mistaken your fear as and against your better judgement, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his narrow waist as you shook your head. He curled himself around you until you felt entirely enveloped by his arms and his scent as he buried his face in your neck.

Pulling away reluctantly, he took your hand and placed it on his chest so you could feel the thunderous beat of his heart as it raced. “This belongs to you and I am yours if you will have me.”

His face blurred as tears welled in your eyes, the fierce nod of your head sending them cascading down your cheeks until he wiped them away with a proud smile.

“I thought of another sign,” he said as he lifted his right hand up so his palm faced you before tucking his middle and ring finger back down. “When you see this, know that I love you.”

You raised your own hand and watched his tremble as you admitted what had been growing with each passing day since that first walk in the gardens. I love you.

Click here for part two.

#aemond targaryen x reader

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