#(and even then the question was if she had sex with daemon and the answer was honestly no and EVERYONE ELSE lied to alicent about that) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starogeorgina · 27 days

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𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚

Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole × reader

Warnings: Swearing, oral sex, fingering, titty sucking

1.02

It had been days since you left your quarters, and the feeling of isolation and loneliness was plaguing you while you got over whatever sickness you had. You spoke to Rhaenyra previously, and she assured you nothing was going on between her and Ser Harwin, that she merely invited him to her chambers so they could speak privately since he caught her in a compromising position with one of her most recent lovers, Lady Laena Velaryon. Which explains why Daemon would implicate your sister; his ego was bruised and he was mad. Lady Laena hadn’t ended their affair because she had been betrothed to another; it’s because she wants to be with Rhaenyra instead.

Although her confession made you feel ashamed for even doubting her, which was another reason you sought isolation.

You hadn’t seen your own lover or husband in just over a month. Harwin had returned to Harrenhal with his father the morning after you confronted him about why he was at your sister's quarters, and since he was vague, the questioning turned into a heated argument. And your father, King Viserys, had sent Daemon on some errand, which meant him leaving the keep.

You hear a knock at your door, and before you can call for it to be opened, someone enters your chambers. You raise a brow, seeing it’s Ser Criston instead of one of your handmaids. You hadn’t exchanged a word with the knight since you left his bedchamber after sharing a brief sexual encounter.

“Princess,” he bows.

“Ser Cristion,” you say, picking up your cup of wine and sinking down onto one of the plush red chairs. “What can I do for you?”

The knight begins to ramble some weak excuse on why he visited your private quarters when he had no business being there. You shut out his words as you focus on his gaze. The hunger in his eyes has caught your attention, as has the way he soaks up your appearance. The black dress you chose in the morning hugged your curves in all the right places, especially your breasts.

Ser Cristion didn’t come because he wanted to talk to you; he came because he wanted to fuck you.

“What is it you desire, my good knight?”

Standing tall, his eyes meet yours. “To please you, princess, That night we spent together, I focused only on my own pleasure and not on yours. I wish to rectify that.”

You don’t answer right away, deliberately leaving him hanging. When he takes a sharp breath, preparing himself for whatever you would reply, you slowly spread your legs open and bunch up your skirts, revealing your bare chest to him. Criston was a handsome man; his personality was questionable considering he was nothing more than a hypocrite, but who were you to refuse such an offer?

“You may please me with your mouth, but that is all.”

For a split second, you think Criston is going to leave when he faces the door, but instead of leaving, he locks it and then returns his gaze to you. You finish your wine as he kneels in front of you. He kisses your thigh, then moves his attention to your core and lets out an animalistic groan. Your eyes stay glued to him as he sucks on your clit, and your fingers tangle into his dark hair, keeping his mouth where it feels best.

You desperately wished it was someone you loved pleasing you, but yet here you are squirming around the tongue of a man you didn’t even care for, acting like a depraved whore.

—

The hour was late, and the sudden dip in the bed causes you to stir. Groggily, you rub your eyes, “Daemon?”

“My apologies for waking you, my love; I know the hour is late,” he shuffles closer to you in the bed. His bare chest is pressing against your back. “I was away much longer than I anticipated, if I had known—”

“I love you, Daemon Targaryen,” you whisper.

He seems taken aback by your sudden admission, and guilt swirls in your stomach. You had important information to tell him, but now wasn’t the time. Not when you were both exhausted.

“I don't deserve you, my sweet wife,” he says, pressing his lips against your bare shoulder. “But I'm never leaving your side again.”

—

“I was merely training him on how to please a woman properly.”

When neither of you could find sleep, you had a jug of wine and a platter of fresh fruit brought to your quarters. You now sit curled beside Daemon on one of the plush couches.

“Hmm, perhaps he won’t be such an insufferable cunt,” Daemon smirks before sipping on his wine. He found it rather amusing that you let Cole lick your cunny, but nothing else. “So... did you enjoy him tasting your sweet little cunt?”

“Hmm, I prefer your mouth on me.”

He pulls the thin fabric of your nightgown down low enough for your breasts to be exposed to him. Droplets of wine still linger on Daemon's lips when he takes your hardened nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he sucks on your flesh.

You giggle. “I’ve definitely missed you.”

Daemon moves his hand along your thigh, feeling the softness of your well-pampered skin beneath his fingers, before he reaches your wet core and sinks two fingers deep into your cunny. “I’ve missed you and your insatiable appetite. You’ve really got the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt.”

You moan at his words.

Greedily, he sucks on your breast while tapping at your clit with his thumb and spreading up his actions of sliding two fingers into your soaking core until the coil in your stomach snaps and his fingers are coated in your slick.

Smiling, you lean forward and nuzzle into his neck, his arms wrapping around you. “Hmm, I’m glad you are home; you have a task of the utmost importance to attend to valzȳrys.”

He rests his cheek against the top of your head while running his fingers through your hair. “And what would that be, ābrazȳrys?”

“You're going to need to find the perfect dragon egg to go in the cradle.”

It takes him a minute to process what you’ve just told him, then he smiles widely. “You are with a child?”

You place one of his hands flat on your stomach and say, “Yes, my love, I’m with a child.”

—

You nod your head and smile at the lords and ladies congratulating you. It hadn’t taken long for word of your growing family to spread around the house. Your father was ecstatic and insisted on throwing a grand feast to celebrate, which Daemon agreed to help organize. Rhaenyra had gifted you with the finest silk dresses to accommodate a growing body and toys for the baby. And all of the attention you received was a favorable distraction from missing Harwin so much.

When you reach the doorway to the library, you tell the knight accompanying you that he doesn’t need to follow you since nobody else has access to it aside from the royal family. Spotting the book Daemon intended to read to you next, you reach out to take it, but your arm is suddenly snatched.

A small gasp escapes your lips. “Ser Criston?”

Cristion’s grip tightens around your arm as he pulls you further away from the doorway room. With a devilish glare in his eyes, he asks, “Are you with the child?"

“Get your hands off me.”

You have been so busy since finding out you're pregnant that you haven’t even spoken with the knight since the night he came to your quarters. An unintentional slight on your end.

“Let go of me, or I will scream.”

He looks down at your arm to see how tightly he’s squeezing it, and let's go. “Are you with a child?" He repeats. When you don’t answer him, he takes your silence as a yes. “How far along?”

“That is none of—”

“How far along?”

Seeing the pleading look in his eyes, you sigh, “It’s been three moons since I last bled.”

His face falls.

“Criston…”

“Why?” he barks, and you immediately recoil. “Why did you need to drag me into whatever messed-up game you and the Prince are playing?”

“I will admit I made the first move that night, but you never turned me. And you are the one who tried to pursue me afterwards, so don’t play innocent.”

Cristion takes a step backwards, as though he's wrestling with something internally. He breathes angrily as his eyes move up and down, taking in the slightest swell in your stomach.

You clear your throat. “I know what you're thinking. That’s how long it’s been since we... Daemon knows.”

“And he doesn’t care?”

“No. He loves me, and he will love this child. His child.”

He remains silent as you brush by him. You were a fool for ever going to Criston that night, knowing how cruel he can be and how close he is to the queen. “I wonder how the king would feel if he heard his own precious princess wasn’t sure who the father of her child was.”

You laugh. “Why don’t you share that theory, Cole? I’m sure Prince Daemon would love to hear it.”

He glares at you.

“We all need to live with the consequences of our actions, and I have done things that I’m ashamed of, but if you ever utter a threat to me or my family again, nothing will be able to save you from the wrath of dragons. Do you understand?”

When Criston says nothing, you get the book for Daemon, and as you're leaving the library, you hear a muffled ‘spoiled cunt’ fall from the knight's lips.

—

Taking a deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose. Of course, there was a very slim chance that Daemon wasn’t the biological father of your baby.

Entering your quarters, you immediately notice something feels different—a shift in energy. You call out, “Daemon?”

He appears within seconds, his expression hard to read. He kisses your cheek and says, “There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.”

“Who?”

“Try as you might, you cannot hide anything from me,” he says quietly. “I sent a raven asking for his return.”

Your lips part slightly as the question of who he wrote lingers on your lips, but in seconds you turn a corner and come face to face with Harwin. Your eyes swell with tears.

He stands at attention, “princess.”

“Harwin…”

Husband - Valzȳrys

Wife - Ābrazȳrys

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bucknastysbabe · 2 months

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Rating: Explicit

Tags: Let's play who's the sidepiece?, Aegon has half of King's Landing and his sister has one (1) man, humor, strong themes of sexism/patriarchy/gender roles, infidelity but casual?, jealous jealous jealous Aeg, who is also a self-absorbed idiot, Aemond just wants peace, pnv!sex, Incest need I say more, manipulation, degradation, rough sex, oral sex (m!receiving), a bit toxic at the end but they do love each other.

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @fairysluna @valeskafics @dr-aegon @targaryen-madness @starogeorgina @lovelykhaleesiii @sugarpoppss2 @thought--bubble

Divider by @saradika

Aegon was suspicious. Sure, he fucked whenever and however he wanted. Regardless of outside activities, something was off in his meticulously planned life. Planned by others, of course, he couldn't give a rat's ass. The prince just had been wed to his sister, the less strange one. She was suspiciously…competent in bed. He could swear she was supposed to be a maiden. She was- bled during the bedding ceremony when he first fucked her.

But the way she rode his cock was good. Too good. Aegon knew he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Frankly, it was eating him up. She even gave fantastic head! Who the fuck had taught her that? He narrowed his eyes at her, the fellow blonde looking bored at supper.

Aegon took a swig of his wine, eyes dark as he studied her. Maybe if he looked long enough someone would jump up and act jealous. What if she was secret fuckmates with his nephew? Aegon had a vague memory of a sordid rumor regarding Jacaerys Velaryon's horse cock. He would kill himself, truly. He could imagine the letter, “Sorry mother, I couldn’t take that shame, yes I know I live in constant shame, but this was the final straw.”

His sister-wife was staring now. She raised a brow in question. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Aegon grumbled, “Nothing. Just looking. Can’t have a look, alright then.”

She scoffed, “You can look, but you’re looking as if you’re about to eat my face.”

Oh. Aegon blushed in embarrassment. He drank more wine, mumbling a ‘sorry’. He didn’t want to broach the subject at supper. The prince’s damn family was nosy enough as is, he didn’t need Aemond’s big ass nose in his ear. Or one of those frightful looks from Alicent. If Aegon got lectured by Otto or Criston he would consider stabbing himself.

Aegon mulled over what he should do next between bites of mutton. She obviously wasn’t going to the Street of Silk, because that was his domain. Someone would’ve peeped already. He reluctantly knew when Daemon was visiting. Every. Damn. Time. Why would Aegon want to hear about the fuckhead's potency issues?

Mayhaps he should get her on the cusp of orgasm and demand who her secret lover-teacher-whatever was. That seemed sound enough to Aegon. When he was about to nut? One could ask him anything, there would be an answer. The prince smiled enigmatically, laughing to himself.

To which his sister-wife said, “You’re acting strange tonight.”

Aegon cooed, “Sorry, just dreaming a bit.”

Under the table he put a lecherous hand on her thigh, squeezing over her soft dress. His sister blushed and squirmed, fork awkwardly clanking across the plate. The woman hissed, “Okay I get it!” She cleared her throat, ignoring any stares. Aegon smirked and squeezed a bit higher, plump lips splitting into a grin.

Aegon had immediately crowded her smaller frame in the bedroom, plush lips attacking her neck, impatient hands pulling at her dress. She moaned, walking backward into the bed, yelping when Aegon crawled atop. He murmured, “You looked ravishing tonight, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Uh, huh, the clasps you fool,” she groaned.

Aegon huffed, probably tearing the fabric as he separated the back of the dress. She began to shuck the dress off while he awkwardly pulled off his breeches. They giggled a bit making eye contact; Aegon unbuttoning his tunic and her unlacing the corset. Soon they were both naked, grinning and kissing, her soft skin rubbing against his.

Aegon grabbed her thighs, mouthing at a tit and playfully nipping at it. She squeaked, thighs tightening around his waist, throwing long blonde hair back. His wife cried out, “Aegon! Quit playing!” He pulled off her nipple, murmuring between little kisses, “Why, is the princess needy?”

He slipped a ringed finger between her folds, finding her wetter than expected. Aegon dipped into her cunt, laughing, “Ah she is, little whore.” The princess writhed a bit, leaning up to capture his lips, lapping into his mouth hungrily. The prince returned her eager movements, curling his fingers into her pussy, letting her ride his hand.

“Fuck, you’re a doll,” he swore, “Perfect.”

She whined and arched up into him, hips canting on his hand. Aegon used his other hand to play with her sensitive tits, thumb circling around a budded nipple. She shivered and cried his name again, a pretty blush diffusing across her pallid skin. The prince hummed “Are you going to come for me sweetling? So soon?”

“Ngh, please, yes Aegon!”

He sped up his movements, feeling her tighten and twitch, the princess on the precipice. Aegon moaned before gathering himself, his pulsing cock was scrambling relative coherency. As it did. He panted, “Gonna count down and I want you to let go okay? Then I’ll fuck your pretty cunt.”

She nodded with lidded eyes, mouth hung open. The picture of ecstasy. Aegon smirked as he spoke.

…10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

“Oh gods Aegon!”

“Who are you fucking!”

She writhed through the helpless orgasm, confusion evident on her twisting features. Aegon couldn’t help but throb AND be quite annoyed. He slurped the juices off his fingers, leaning back with a look. The prince was feeling sullen and not sure if he wanted to play anymore. His wife stared up at him and echoed “Who…am I fucking. What?”

Aegon pouted. This didn’t go to plan. He rolled his eyes and explained, “You excel, frighteningly so, at our bedroom activities. Yes, yes I know you were still a maiden at our wedding. But I am onto you, I don't know much but I do know about fucking, dearest."

“Are you kidding me? This is ludicrous Aegon!”

She had sat up now, crossing her arms, lips pouty. The prince stated as if it was obvious, “You know your way around a cock. Obviously, this comes with experience. I’ve bedded many a maiden and they usually just stare until you flip them over. So who’s the secret mentor?”

She scoffed in horror, cheeks reddening further, “I can’t believe this Aegon! You’re an idiot! I’m not fucking anyone else! Unlike you!”

“Lies you tell, no spring maiden has gargled my balls!” he accused, face growing equally red in frustration, ringed finger pointing at her.

His sister grew quiet, looking away. She mumbled “Fine. Do you want to know who it is so bad? This stays between us.”

Aegon nodded, impatiently gesturing for her to come out with it. She seemed to grow more uncomfortable. Then spit out a name so low and fast he couldn’t hear. Tonight might be the night he explodes. The prince groaned, “Oh my gods, just say it in a normal tone!”

“Larys Strong!”

What?

He burst into laughter. The prince guffawed, clutching his stomach, shaking with humor. She gaped “What? I’m not lying!” Aegon laughed some more thinking about the foot monger, he’s a bigger virgin than anyone in the keep. He breathlessly chuckled, “Good one, yeah right dear.”

She began to pull on her chemise, annoyed now. Aegon grasped at her thigh, pleading between fits of giggles, “I don’t know why you’re hiding this? I don’t care who you go and find pleasure with. Unless it’s truly Larys. C’monnnn love don’t leave.”

“This isn’t a laughing matter. You’re making up things. What if I’m just good at carnal activities hm Aegon? You're an ass!”

Aegon contemplated the possibility, “Sure, that could be true. Now stop being huffy and come here. I said I’d fuck your pretty pussy.”

She stared down at him before taking her chemise back off. The princess hissed, “You’re a right asshole you know that? You better fuck me good. Prick.”

Aegon laughed again, cheeks hurting from his fit of humor. He maneuvered her onto all fours, sliding his cock against her still-wet folds. He pressed kisses to her shoulder, nosing sweet-smelling hair. He placed a hand on her tight stomach, humming, “I’m sorry dear, I’ll make it better Hm?” He slid in, watching her pretty eyes roll up in her head.

Aegon still wanted to know who his sister was fornicating. She probably was still seeing this person. All he knew was that they resided in the Red Keep and certainly not Larys Strong. The prince had to open his mind to the possibilities of women too. There were many a pretty handmaiden who tended to his wife.

He frowned in thought, sipping his wine. Aegon sat next to his stiff bitch of a brother in the library of all places. Secretly, Aegon hoped the knowledge in the room would give him some magical foresight gift- but not that weird shit Helaena did sometimes.

His wife fucking a handmaiden- that felt too overt. He’d only seen his sister gag and moon over visiting knights and lordlings. Next to Aegon sat his irritated brother. Aemond was quiet, too quiet. He and their sister got along quite well? Aegon's eyes turned to his not-so-little brother.

“Aem.”

“Why are you speaking to me? I’m trying to read.”

“I have a question. That's why, you frozen-faced ass.”

Aemond picked his head up and glared, slamming his book closed. He huffed “What, oh, what, could your drunkenness possibly ask from me? No, I’m not covering your ass again.”

Aegon snorted. His brother was such a frigid quim. He acted like Criston Cole, peacocking around the place, chip on their shoulder. The elder asked “Look. I’ll just be blunt with you. Our sister, my wife. She is merely too good in the sack. Are you fucking her? Is she fucking you?”

Aemond’s jaw audibly clicked in annoyance. He struggled over his tongue, face red. The second son stood up, slamming his hands on the stone. He retreated with a swish of hair and growled, “Buffoon.”

Aegon called after him, “Your behavior has not marked you off my list!”

"Fuck you and your list! Drunkard!!"

Icy little prick. Aegon rolled his eyes, pondering on his next target. Perhaps Jason Lannister? He was wooing any Targaryen princess for his sons. Or possibly Ser Arryk, her sworn shield. Aegon would go to them next. Then maybe do a night check on Aemond’s quarters. His wife was busy with their mother all day anyway. How boring.

Safe to say the prince was still vexed. Jason Lannister laughed in his face and Ser Arryk was extremely confused. He replied in that dumb voice of his, “The princess and I? I’m not that simple your grace. Some of us Kingsguard do take our vows seriously, although I can’t say the same for others.”

He refused to elaborate afterward, Aegon throwing his hands up and moving to the next destination. While walking, he pondered Arryk’s words. Could it be another Kingsguard? Maybe Erryk? Criston had already used up his one allotted Princess fucking and it turned him sour. Erryk would stay on Aegon’s list, the other men too plain ugly or on Dragonstone.

Too annoyed to try any decorum, Aegon simply kicked Aemond’s door open. The younger prince squawked in shock, his hair flying around. Why was there a portrait of Daemon? Why was there another half-finished portrait of Aemond obviously in the same style? Aegon spluttered, “What the fuck? You’re so weird! Daemon? Blech brother!”

Aemond, hair tied back and wearing simple clothes smudged with paint— was positively furious. He hollered, “Get the hell out! I’m not fornicating with our sister! She’s your wife! Say a word of this and I’m making you a Eunuch!”

Aegon was booted out, literally, as in Aemond’s big fucking boot kicked him in the arse.

“Should’ve known. Weirdo,” Aegon grumbled.

He limped back to his quarters, dreadfully needing a sip of wine and someone’s lips around his cock. Today was dreadful. He actually tried to do something. Which trying was rare for him! The prince went to open his door, only to step back when Ser Criston exited.

He raised a brow. Criston looked at him blankly, dark eyes placid. Aegon asked, “What were you doing?” The Kingsguard scoffed, “Your sister was having a fit about a spider, I heard her yowling and killed said spider. Goodnight my prince.”

Aegon glared at the surly marcher, shaking his head and entering the chambers. He immediately went to the table and drank straight from the bottle, deep, deep pulls of relief. The blonde placed it down and sighed, turning towards his bed.

His wife sat there, eyes wide, wearing only her askew shift. Aegon bitched, “Oh. Nice to see you too. Maybe a ‘Hello lord husband, how are you?’ would suffice.”

The Princess’ cheeks were pink. He guessed from the embarrassment of having Ser Criston kill a small bug. Then explained again why Ser Criston had to kill a small bug. She mumbled, “Oh, sorry, I thought you were at the brothels.”

Aegon plopped down in a chair, grabbing the bottle. He whined, “Nope! Been trying to find out who your mystery lover is all day. No one wants to pipe up! I should’ve gone.”

She gazed downwards, biting on swollen lips. The princess stood up on shaky legs, making her way to Aegon and kneeling between his lax thighs. She hummed, tracing a finger up one, feeling the muscle twitch. His sister mused, “Can I take your mind off this mystery lover? You’re much more desirable to me. Don't they say the blood of the dragon reaches out to another?”

“Sure, definitely” he whined again. Aegon would pout this out, it was his specialty. He honestly was hurt, why couldn’t he know their identity? Sure he’d get jealous and probably ban her from seeing them but still! He was sad!

“Am I that unappealing to you?” he whimpered, tears pricking at violet eyes, frustration and self-pity leaking over.

She sighed heavily, wrapping her arms around his midsection. The princess laid her head upon his thigh and cooed, “No. You’re my husband, my blood, we are a union now. That partnership…started because I was afraid you would find me boring. So I wanted to know how to please a man.”

Aegon sulked and sniffled some more, taking another deep drink from his goblet. The familiar fuzz was coming along nicely, patching up his insecurities. But it was nice to hear her admit a smidgeon of truth. She kissed his leg and continued, “Aegon dear, have I not pleased you? It was a transaction between the person and me. They wished to make their identity a secret so as not to catch your wroth. I no longer see them like that. I hate that you’re upset, I did this for you.”

Aegon nodded, feeling a bit better. His sister was good. She easily melted his pouting protocol. The female Targaryen rubbed his thighs and moved her mouth to hover over his clothed cock, eyes looking up as she breathed, “Now baby, just relax and let me make this better, hm?”

He moaned softly as she mouthed over his swelling member, nimble fingers untying his breeches, other hand massaging the soft flesh and meat of his thigh. She eased Aegon’s cock and his sac out, groaning with a flutter of her long lashes. The prince squirmed a bit, breathing heavier, holding off a whine.

“Just you and me, sweet baby.”

She was increasingly convincing kitten licking the ruddy head of his prick like that. The girl’s dainty hand wrapped around his length, the other going to hold his balls, keeping them nice and compressed. Aegon’s back arched when she eased him into a silky wet mouth, tongue massaging the underside as his wife hollowed her mouth.

“Mmm,” she hummed.

Aegon responded with a noise he’d rather not dwell on. It was very…emasculating. Gods, she was so good at this. He needed to get over his qualms and just fuck her so good the princess wouldn't stray again. Good and obedient- all for Aegon. He eased her off gently, demanding, "Lay across the bed. Now."

Wide purple eyes stared at him. She murmured, "What? I- I don't need that, let me take care of you."

Aegon shook his head, grinning, the drink emboldening him. Something about Arbor Red made him impossibly aroused and giddy. He jerked his chin toward the plush bed and laughed. His sister got up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. She padded and leaned her body over the bed, long legs spread, chemise discarded to display her swollen cunt to him.

Aegon pulled off his breeches as he stalked over, eyes drinking in her pussy. He smacked a hand across her ass and grabbed the stinging flesh. He asked roughly "Did your mystery lover sneak out the servant's exit when Ser Criston heard your yowling?"

"Yes, yes! Sorry, fucking yes!" she shouted.

Aegon's face darkened at her puffy and slick cunt, obvious signs of someone having a feast down there. He ran the blunt tip of his swollen cock across her folds, groaning as he smacked her clit. The prince snapped "You're a goddamn lying slut you know that? A match made in heaven with me huh? Did Ser Criston walk in when you were getting your cunt licked?" He wound a fist in her blonde tresses, pulling it tight.

She shivered and shook her head, whining, "N-ohh, he didn't see!"

"Hm, sure, probably took a peak, the weird bitch. Whatever, I guess I'll have to fuck this person out of your mind? Or you're coming with me to the brothels sister dearest."

He slid into her tight hole, gasping at the ridges and warmth. Aegon tightened the fist in her hair. Maybe he'd fuck a babe in her tonight, then she'd be stuck in his quarters surrounded by maesters and tittering handmaidens. Eugh. Aegon huffed and fucked her at a brisk pace, his other hand smacking her ass every other thrust.

His sister-wife moaned, taking his cock like she was made for it. She fucked back onto him, back arched, tits bouncing. Her cheeks were delightfully flushed as she panted Aegon's name, eyes wet and wide. Aegon leaned over her form and growled, "Don't know who this fucker is but I will find out. He better know whose cunt this is, eh? Shout it, tell the whole goddamn keep who you belong to, sister."

Aegon relished in her little whimper, his fingers pinching her clit as he forced her hips up to drive into her good spot harder. He bit and lapped at her neck, hissing, "C'mon and say it or I'll lock your ass up here with no visitors. Just me and I'll get my fill, fucking snake." She blubbered, seizing around his cock a hair.

"Oh gods, please don't make me howl like that, Aegon, please!"

He fucked the princess rougher, holding her gaze with a tight grip around her chin. She bit her lip, eyes mournful before shouting, "Only you Aegon, I belong to you, yes big brother! Yes! I belong to my husband!"

Aegon grinned like the cat that got the cream. He cooed, "Good little sister, knew you still had it in you." He gripped her throat and refocused on fucking her until she cried. Aegon pinched and licked, played with her tits, circled her clit until she came all over him- yet the prince was still fit to go. Sweet sister was a mess now- covered in bites and hickeys, sweaty hair plastered to her neck. The younger blonde whimpered, "Aeg- Aegon, I- I can't possibly do this again!"

Her eyes were frantic, her cute body shaking and coming apart wondrously. Aegon hummed, "You will come for me again sweetling. I know you can, just whining on my prick like you were paid for it? Does he fuck you like this huh? Make you see stars?"

"N-noooo, only you!"

"Good girl, come on now, wanna feel that sweet pussy of yours cream around me one more time. Then I'll fill you up deep- maybe he won't come around when you are all ripe with," he punctuated his next words with thrusts, "My. Goddamn. Child."

The princess wailed softly, overused and overstimulated. She felt the crest of another burning orgasm flaring up and forcing red hot tears down her blotchy cheeks. It was intense and she cried harder when Aegon's thick seed stuffed her twitching cunt and womb to the brim. He seemed to be satisfied now, cooing at her, "There we go, ffuck, that's my sweet girl. See, don't need anyone else around now hm?"

Aegon wiped her gorgeous tears, smiling victoriously. She cuddled into his arms, letting her husband soothe and stroke her trembling flesh. He even hollered for a servant to grab some water. The prince murmured, "You did so good, such a good wife, yes, maybe just a bit of punishment does sweet sister well." He grew quieter and pressed a kiss to her soft forehead, "I love you, truly, for tolerating a failure like me."

She smiled softly and pecked Aegon's full lips, her own swollen from tonight. Aegon wiped her tears as she sighed, "I love you too Aegon. Buffoon you may be. I hope the seed takes. No more about mystery lovers. The whole keep has heard now sweetheart."

Aegon smirked, hoping every single soul heard.

One soul in particular did, his black gloves tightening in annoyance. He was down the hall before turning back and having to hear the heir...rudely fuck his sister-wife. With a growl and swish of the cloak, the true mystery lover was gone. She'd be back in his arms sooner or later. Aegon couldn't fuck him out of her soft heart.

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x sister!reader #aegon ii imagine #the very obvious sidepiece lmfao

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itsgameofthronesimagines · 1 year

Text

Strong Dragons (Part One)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Masterlist Here

Pairing: Daemon x Fem!Reader x Rhaenyra

Warnings: NSFW! 18+ only! Smut, mature themes and language, P in V, arranged marriages, unprotected rough/raw sex (wrap it before you tap it), virginity loss, incest, daemon growls (enough said), angst, mentions of period blood, infertility struggles, threesomes, etc. (I’m so sorry if I miss anything I’m just writing the warnings down as I remember them)

Word Count: 4,032

Summary: Lady Y/n is chosen by Princess Rhaenyra for some would say a dangerous, maybe even an impossible task... and it requires marrying her uncle.

Request by: @ivy-targaryen

Author’s Note: I just so happened to be writing a Daemon x Reader x Rhaenyra fic when this request came in so thank you so much for the added inspiration! For context, Fem!Reader will be a Strong for later obvious reasons, Rhaenyra is still married to Laenor, Daemon stays in King’s Landing and never marries Laena, so their daughters are never born (I’m sorry). This is a VERY long one (that is most definitely getting a second and third part cause this originally had over 10,000 words) so strap in and I hope you enjoy it!

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

"What troubles you?"

Lady Y/n, daughter of House Strong, looks up from her embroidery to locate the source of her brother's voice. Looking around the gardens, she found him walking towards her, stepping into the gazebo she had hidden in. She tilts his head up at him, "Do I look troubled?"

Ser Harwin Breakbones lets out a snort full of snark, "I hardly see a sour look like that on your face, sweet sister."

Upon mention, Y/n feels the furrow of her brow lighten, straightening her posture when she realized she had been slouching. Blinking rapidly to try and veil her brooding expression, she clears her throat and nods towards the nearest seat for her brother. When he takes up the invitation to join her, only then did she voice her worries, "... If you were given an impossible task, would you do it?"

Harwin's eyebrows furrow, an expression fairly similar to Y/n's. By all accounts, apart from their genders, they were twins, and Y/n is reminded of this as she watched her brother similarly shift in his seat before replying, "Awfully vague question. If you truly want advice from your brother, wouldn't you want to be a bit more specific?"

"If I wanted advice, I'd go to Larys," the quick remark forces out a snort from Harwin. Y/n faintly smiles before urging him on with a stiff nod, "Just answer the question."

Silence lingers as he ponders on said question. Harwin listens to the wind brushing through the vines that have climbed the pillars of the gazebo. He answers boldly, like the strong soldier he was, "Nothing is impossible. Not for me. Not for us. House Strong knows no task that is too impossible to accomplish."

Y/n looked back down at her embroidery to hide her disappointment. She was afraid he would say that, furiously pulling the needle and threading through the fabric. Despite hiding her emotions, Harwin took her silent response as a recoil, worrying him further as he leans closer to her, talking quietly in case the question was for a more personal matter, "Can I ask who gave you this burden?"

The needle paused in Y/n's hand, her eyes still examining her threaded pattern as she mumbled, "The princess."

Harwin's worry eases some, shoulders visibly relaxing under his armor. He smiles warmly with encouragement, "Princess Rhaenyra would not have asked... whatever-it-is from you if she did not believe you could do it. She's also smart. I don't believe anything's impossible for her either," when his sister remained unconvinced, Harwin reaches out to still her hand from stabbing her embroidery with the needle, "She is to be our queen someday, Y/n... Whatever she wants from you, as long as you are not to be harmed, I believe you should do it."

Y/n's shoulders rise and fall as she sighs through her nose, watching Harwin's hand before finally looking up at him, "She wants me to go with her if and when she leaves for Dragonstone."

Not a complete lie, but one nonetheless, and it only added to the weight already heavy on her burdened shoulders. Harwin's eyebrows furrow again, but more so in confusion, "And why is that such an impossible task?"

"... Convincing Father of it is one, and being unwed is another. I doubt Father would let me go if he intends on finding me a husband."

Ser Breakbones scoffs, "Father cannot deny the princess, Y/n. He'll have to agree if she asks you to go with her."

"But the King--"

"Princess Rhaenyra has the King wrapped around her finger. She will get her father to agree to this arrangement, and then our father will really have no choice."

He stands suddenly, remembering that he had the City Watch to attend to and he had only meant to bid his sister a good day. Before he leaves, however, he smiles down and pats Y/n's shoulder, "It's an honor to have the heir to the throne request your service. Politically, the relationship between our houses would strengthen if you choose to accept the princess' proposal. Give it some thought, sister. I know in the end, whatever you choose, I'll believe it to be the right choice."

~~~~~~~~~

Her brother wasn't at all helpful in her struggles, but Y/n had appreciated his words, nevertheless. She knew she wouldn't get his full support if he had known the full truth, but he had answered as she knew he would with what she had given him. That night, as instructed, she slipped into the secret passageways of the Red Keep. Following the drawings that were quickly scrawled onto a piece of parchment, Y/n wandered cautiously down the tunnels, avoiding any source of light she caught sight of. Eventually, she makes it to a small stairwell and climbs up, finding the outline of a door on the top of the stairs. Ignoring the dust and cobwebs, Y/n places her hands on the door and gives it an experimental push. When it didn't budge, she pushed harder, quickly catching herself when the door gave in.

She nearly stumbled into the chambers revealed on the other side. Looking around, her eyes widen in amazement to find herself in Princess Rhaenyra's chambers, the very same Targaryen who was watching Y/n expectedly from her seat next to the hearth on the far side of the room. When Y/n's gaze caught hers, the Strong woman straightened her posture, quickly brushing the dust off her skirt and bowing respectively, parchment paper still clutched in hand.

Rhaenyra smiled, amusement shining in her eyes unless Y/n had mistaken it for the fireplace reflecting off her violet orbs. The princess rose from her chair and slowly crossed the room to the other woman, hands clasped in front of her, "Find your way here well enough?"

"Yes, Princess," Y/n curtly answered. She was nearly startled out of her manners, however, when a large hand reached around her and snatched the parchment from her hands. Dark hair falling over her shoulder as she spun her head, Y/n nearly lost her bravery when Daemon Targaryen stood beside her, seamlessly emerging from the shadows of the room. The prince barely acknowledged her presence, staring down at the small map he had drawn for Y/n as it crinkled in his hands.

Finally, he looked up once Rhaenyra had joined his side, the two Targaryens both staring at Y/n with their matching eyes, looming over her with a fierceness so similar to a dragon. Daemon allows a small smirk to grace his lips, "Incredible architecture, wouldn't you agree?"

Y/n quickly nodded when she guessed that he was referring to the secret tunnels, now slightly shaking, "Yes, my prince."

"Maegor the Cruel had the secret tunnels and passageways built throughout the Red Keep back when he was King. They say after construction was finished, he threw a grand feast for the hands and minds behind the building process," Daemon took the parchment and held it over a lit candlestick stationed on a pillar beside him, watching the remnants of his maps slowly disappear into flames before freeing his hand off it and fixing his gaze back on Y/n. The young woman tried her best not to cower in fear as he took one step closer to her again, "And after three days, he had them all killed so no one but him would know how to navigate the tunnels and trapdoors."

A hidden threat, veiled by his intention. Y/n forced her hands to stay still by folding them in front of her body, unable to meet the prince's eyes when he stepped far too close to her, close enough to feel his breath on her face as she whispered, "I will not breathe of word of this to anyone."

Daemon tilts his head, smirking as though he was playing with his food, "And what made you think I would suggest such a thing?"

"Daemon," both his and Y/n's eyes remember Rhaenyra and look to face her. The princess appeared patient, encouraging her uncle with a brief nod, "I trust her."

Once her uncle had stepped away and dutifully stood at her side, Rhaenyra turned back to Y/n, thinly smiling, "Have you made a decision?"

"I have, Princess..." Y/n nods again, trying to catch her breath after Daemon has stolen hers. She basked in her personal space, able to think straight without the two dragons lingering ever so close to her. Taking a deep breath and regaining her courage, Y/n lifts her chin and turns to Daemon, "I will marry you. I will wed you and bed you. I will give you the children you and Princess Rhaenyra so desire and pass them off as hers with Ser Laenor."

Rhaenyra's eyes were the only thing to give away her relief and veiled excitement. Daemon, however, remained impassive, unwilling to share whatever emotions he was feeling with the stranger in the room he did not yet trust. He keeps his gaze hard, staring deeply into Y/n's as if trying to fish out a lie, "You understand that while you will be the one to bear them, you will not be the one to raise them. When they are born, you promise to not hold motherhood over them and entrust this to the Princess Rhaenyra."

It was not a question or a request, more so a demand. Despite Daemon's bluntness, Y/n nods obediently, "If that is the princess' wish, yes."

Rhaenyra glides over to the woman, gingerly taking her hands in her own. Y/n couldn't find herself able to stare directly into the princess' gaze and so glanced down at their conjoined hands. Rhaenyra's skin was fair and much paler than hers in comparison. Y/n had a few small scars littered over her hands from various stories of her childhood, while Rhaenyra's was visibly flawless, apart from the feel of her palms. They were rough, as Y/n observed, most likely from the use of dragon-riding.

Y/n forces herself to look up, only to be rewarded with a grateful nod from Rhaenyra and a kind smile, "Thank you, my lady. You have no idea how much this means to me."

~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Daemon approached the King and asked for Lady Y/n's hand in marriage. Viserys was delighted that his brother had found a new wife so soon after Lady Royce's death and after the scandal with Rhaenyra and immediately confided in Lyonel Strong for his approval. His Hand, of course, agreed to this proposal between his daughter and Prince Daemon and so a ceremony was quickly planned to take place within a fortnight.

Preparations were made and everyone appeared to be excited about the event, bustling about and whispering with joy amongst themselves. Many of the ladies of the court giggled and gossiped with each other, fawning over Prince Daemon and commenting on how Lady Y/n was incredibly lucky.

If Harwin had a suspicion, he never showed it. Instead, he congratulated his sister on her proposal and promised to be her ally against her future husband should she ever need it. On the day the ceremony was set to take place, Y/n found herself surrounded by maids and other ladies of the court as they helped her prepare for her wedding. Just as they had fully dressed her in a white dress filled with embroidered dragons in red thread, the doors of Y/n's chambers opened to reveal the princess and Ser Harwin. The ladies and servants all bow and made a quick escape when Rhaenyra asked them to leave. Once they were alone, Rhaenyra nodded to Harwin and fondly watched as Ser Breakbones crossed the room to gather his sister up in a tight embrace.

"You look beautiful," he compliments, petting down her hair while looking her in the eyes, "The princess wishes to do your hair, but I will be just outside if you need anything."

Y/n nods and briefly smiles in answer. Before she could even say a word, Harwin had left the room and closed the doors behind him. Rhaenyra waits a moment before joining Y/n at her vanity mirror, instructing the bride-to-be to sit down while she took a brush to her dark hair. The two women were silent for the moment as Rhaenyra ran the brush through Y/n's hair, time and time again until it felt like silk running through her fingers. Then, the princess moved on to braiding certain locks and forming a halo on top of the bride's head, similar to something a Targaryen would wear.

"I understand what we are asking of you is a heavy burden," the princess spoke gently, "And I understand it will be difficult, but I want you to know that I owe you my life for this. You have my gratitude and I will never forget this. You're a true friend to the crown. Daemon may say whatever he likes, but as for me, I still want you to be a part of the children's lives. To them, you will be a distant cousin and an aunt, but to me, you will be every bit of a mother to them as I."

Y/n doesn't nod in an attempt not to ruin Rhaenyra's work on her hair. The curiosity got the best of her as she opened her mouth, "How will we hide any pregnancy? Will we have a maester we can trust?"

"We have a plan," Rhaenyra doesn't elaborate beyond that, "And we will act on it once we are sure you are with child."

"Will Ser Laenor be in the know of it?"

She nods, "He knows."

"And he approves?"

"He does," Rhaenyra finishes the braids, her hands finding rest on Y/n's shoulders. The two women stare into each other's reflection in the mirror, a small shadow taking over the princess' eyes as she spoke, "We did try, you know. Many times, in fact. But nothing came of it. When I turned to Daemon for help... still, nothing happened. As the future queen, it is vital that I have heirs of my own someday. If I am truly barren, well..." she squeezes Y/n's shoulders, "At least this way, the children will still have Targaryen blood running through their veins."

Y/n bites her lip, not voicing what she truly thought to the princess. Daemon never hid his disgust for his first wife, Rhea Royce. Everyone heard him spit terrible things about her, darkly stating his wife to be 'his bronze bitch' among other profanities. With one look at her own reflection, Y/n wanted to flinch away at her Strong features. It didn't take a fool to know that Prince Daemon had a taste for women with silver hair, but not just any woman. Some speculated that Daemon had only ever loved one woman, and could never have her. All the lords and ladies in court looked no further than Rhaenyra herself, knowing that she could ask Daemon to take over the world for her, and her uncle would do so without question. Y/n had once speculated these rumors, and now her arrangement with the uncle and niece only confirmed it.

Finally, Y/n turned away from the mirror to look up at the princess with as much honesty as she could muster, "I cannot guarantee the children will have silver hair."

Rhaenyra faintly smiles, her hand hovering over Y/n's hair as if wanting to run her fingers through it, but wisely decided against it, "We will cross that bridge when we come to it."

~~~~~~~~~

The wedding went by quickly, Y/n could scarcely remember it whenever she looked back. The ceremony played out like a rehearsal, vows full of monotone and kisses exchanged in practice. The celebration afterward was one so grand that Y/n had a moment to forget her sorrows. The feast was large and not only was wine being served but also ale and mead as well. Y/n had her father to thank for providing her favorite drink, her cups mostly filled with a honey mead sent from Dorne. She danced her troubles away with anyone and everyone, but not her new husband. Daemon barely paid a mind to her, instead seating himself beside the King as they joked and laughed as if they were boys again. Y/n wasn't too bothered by this as practically everyone danced with her. Her father and Harwin were the first to do so, her younger brother, Larys, was unable to take part in the dancing. Members of the King's small council danced with her, and their sons. The Sea Snake himself, Lord Vaemond, and Ser Laenor all danced with her. With knowing eyes, Laenor passed the bride off to his wife once a new song began, and Y/n was too stunned to remember her manners as Princess Rhaenyra took her hands and led her into a lovely, slow dance.

"I suppose this makes me your aunt now, Princess," Y/n finds herself speaking her mind more than usual, her mead finally dulling her restless mind.

Rhaenyra huffed out a laugh, linking her arm through Y/n's opposite as they spun around each other in a circle, "It does, my lady. Although from this moment forward, I would like to call you a friend as well."

"Whatever you wish for, Princess."

The bedding ceremony was not as enjoyable as the feast, but suppose that is why Y/n drank many cups of mead before that. She was horrified at the idea of everyone in court watching her, including her brothers and father, but was relieved to learn that Daemon had forbidden the court to watch. Y/n will later hear that Daemon himself spoke to the King about this, stating that he had every intention of consummating his marriage with his second bride, seeing as she was the one he chose, unlike Lady Royce, and that there was no need for his brother to watch and make sure. The lords still brought the bride to bed and the ladies brought the groom, but there was no undressing or an audience during the consummation.

Well, all but one audience.

Later, after the lords and ladies had gone, Rhaenyra slipped into Y/n's chambers, undetected by anyone outside. She sat near the bed, watching with interest as Daemon stripped himself and his new bride down to their night clothes. Her face red with embarrassment, Y/n doesn't comment and instead turns her head away to observe the far wall of her room, nearly jumping out of her skin when Daemon pulled her nightgown up, exposing her naked form to the cool air.

Y/n's eyes screw shut and her entire body stiffens when she felt the tip of Daemon's erection run over her folds, barely giving enough time to prep her before he completely sheaths himself inside of her. It's tight and it burns, causing Y/n to throw her hand over her mouth to stifle the cry of pain forced out of her. Daemon lets out a small growl and doesn't give her time to adjust, moving back out of her only to slide back in. His hips meet hers once she's able to take him fully without much resistance, and yet all Y/n can do was either shut her eyes or watch the wall, wanting to hide her body and shame into the very mattress Daemon began to fuck her into.

"Relax, Lady Y/n," Rhaenyra softly soothed the woman, her voice closer than what Y/n remembered. Turning her head, Y/n found her now sitting on the edge of the bed, hovering over the newlyweds' writhing forms. Rhaenyra's eyes appeared curious, intrigued by whatever she finds when Y/n's gaze meets her. The princess leans forward and finds Y/n's hand, sliding her own fingers in between Lady Strong's, "If you relax your body, it will hurt less."

Y/n tries to listen and obey, taking a few shaking breaths to calm herself, despite Daemon's hips snapping harshly into hers, forcing her breasts to bounce. The slight friction of Y/n's skewed nightgown brushing over her nipples sends a chill down her spine, and for a moment she forgets the pain, shivering as her hand tightly holds Rhaenyra's, briefly forgetting her embarrassment. Daemon grunts at the feel of her walls tightening around him, ever so slightly, slick sounds now filling the air instead of raw, dry claps. For the most part, he had been focused more on thrusting instead of acknowledging his wife, keeping his eyes lowered as he watches his cock disappear into her wet cunt with each snap of his hips. He refused to watch Y/n as he beds her, more focused on his goal than on pleasure.

However, after a long stretch of time, the prince found it harder and harder to peak, desperate for release as he starts thrusting harder and faster. Y/n bites the inside of her cheek so as not to scream, forcing her eyes closed again to stop the unshed tears from falling. Daemon's grunts were less pleasurable and were more out of frustration, still avoiding his wife's face and body out of a stubborn will.

Rhaenyra can see the exhaustion on her uncle's face and so she takes matters into her own hands. Still hanging onto Y/n, the princess uses her free hand to cup Daemon's face, forcing him to look up at her. Daemon's eyes meet hers and she could see the lust for her pooling in his hard gaze. She could see his desire but also his frustration. Rhaenyra leans in and kisses Daemon, moaning straight into his mouth.

He had spilled inside of Y/n soon after that, the Lady Strong relieved for it to finally be over.

~~~~~~~~~

However, she quickly realized that it would be far from over. She had promised to bring forth a child for Rhaenyra and Daemon Laenor, and until she did so, she would have to let Daemon back into her bed. It's not as though Rhaenyra wanted Laenor to share Y/n's bed, although Y/n was sure that she was far from Laenor's fancy anyway, but Daemon was now her lawful husband, and a child from him would be perfect for Rhaenyra. Besides, Y/n was positive that Rhaenyra would prefer to have a child from Daemon over her own husband.

For several nights after her wedding, Y/n would be accompanied by her husband and her newly appointed niece. And for several nights, after Daemon was finished, both he and Rhaenyra would leave her chambers, alone and sore in her bed. The nights weren't so bad after a fashion, and perhaps that was because Rhaenyra made it bearable for Y/n. Every morning after, Y/n was visited by the princess, and a tray of food and drink would come with her. Y/n was surprised but also inwardly delighted by Rhaenyra's kindness. Both of the women broke their fasts together so much that it became a tradition every single day. It even came to a point where even if Daemon didn't bed Y/n, Rhaenyra would still visit with her aunt the morning after.

A month had gone by and Rhaenyra sat in her normal seat at Y/n's table, sipping on her morning tea while staring out the balcony. The peaceful silence that usually followed this routine visit was oddly charged and heavy. The princess sensed this, glancing over to Y/n only to find the other woman staring down at her lap as if in shame.

"What is it?" She found herself asking, although her stomach turned with the suspicion that she already knew.

Y/n looked up, sighing in exhaustion, "My flower came this morning."

Disappointed, Rhaenyra only blinks, nodding while setting her cup down, "I can't say I'm surprised. It was foolish to get my hopes up that everything would happen right away."

Y/n nods as well, although the lines on her forehead didn't go away. Rhaenyra wanted to reach out with her thumb and soothe it over but had to pinch herself in order to refrain from doing so. She watched Y/n's face continue to fall into despair, the Strong woman gulping down the soreness in her throat when she felt her eyes begin to water, "Am I doing something wrong, Princess?"

The weakness in her voice nearly shattered Rhaenyra's heart, for once unable to reply with all the things she was supposed to say. Instead, a fire raged within her belly, and with it revealed the dragon within her. Y/n didn't notice, but Rhaenyra felt a cloud in her mind as she reached over to take Y/n's hand.

"No, it's not you, Lady Y/n. It's not you."

She had an idea of who was really to blame for her aunt's distress.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So, uh... I'm DEFINITELY making a Part 2, whether ya'll like it or not. Hope you enjoyed!

Go to the Masterlist to see what chapters are posted!

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arabellasleopardcoat · 9 months

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Foresight (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: The only time modern reader actually uses her intuition and hits the nail right on the head.

Warnings: I barely know by now. Smut. Fingering. Oral sex (F receiving) Non-con/ Dub con. I mean, reader consents, but you have read this series. Pregnancy.

A/N: And… It’s a wrap, folks! My first series. Think of this as the epilogue. As always, you can shout at me in my asks.

Previous parts here.

There is a certain irony in this, you think. You were once someone of no importance in a world filled with millions of people. Then, you were a servant in the Middle Ages. Now, you are a Lady of a noble house, married to a Prince.

Yet, it’s the first time you are held in such a way. A slightly longer chain than the one for your wrists connects your ankles together. Despite being in one of the highest positions a woman could be in these times, you have never had less freedom.

Now it’s a new girl, delivering your food. No matter how hard you try, she never answers your questions about Mina or what is happening outside your rooms. You discover it is because she doesn’t have a tongue. And she is terrified of even looking at you, too. You wonder what Daemon has done to her.

Was she born like that? Did another Lord punish her? Or worse. Did Daemon take her tongue? Trying to guess what happened to her is good entertainment. Unfortunately, you soon realize it frightens her too much when you speak to her. You wouldn’t want to cause her a heart attack, and so, you have to quit it.

You feel like an asshole. But you are desperate for company, to get someone to speak to you. The hopelessness you first felt has started to feel much like realization. You are not leaving. You are stuck with Daemon.

To keep your mind occupied, you try to remember as many details of the time you are living in. You start with the cutting of tongues as your inspiration. Someone did something similar in the show. You didn’t pay as much attention to the story as you would have if you had known it was going to become your life.

But someone had. Surely. What was it, with Westeros, and the forceful taking of the organs? They cut hands, tongues, fingers, eyes. God.

If you remembered something else, it could be useful. Unfortunately for you, you had been too fixated on how hot some people looked to follow subplots. The exercise is useless, but you start writing what you can remember on parchments and hiding them from your captor.

You feel like you are going insane. The only thing you do is pace and read, pace and read, all day. Something is wrong with you. You feel strange, like you are wearing clothes a size too small. Uncomfortable. Cranky. Sensitive. Lonely.

You read once, that human beings have more needs than just eat, sleep and shelter. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. People need to own things, they need friends and intimacy, they need purpose. Otherwise, bad things happen.

Oh, but what? Could all your symptoms be explained by it? If you had a phone, you could look it up. Hell, even if it was the sixties, you could search it in a book. Not in the Middle Ages. Or well, Westeros.

You long for Daemon’s company. He comes every afternoon and sits near the fireplace. You talk to him because there is nothing else to do. From time to time, you repeat that you are not a dreamer. He laughs.

“You wouldn’t be this perfect for me if you weren’t.”

He is very cultured, and interesting. It's something you are desperately attracted to. It’s not only that you are now in what it’s effectively solitary confinement, no. Deeper than that. Just like Rhea, Daemon is one of the few people in the Runestone that can read. His mind is more open, he is less superstitious. Talking to him makes you less lonely.

There is no way you can rationalize it, though. What you are doing is wrong. It’s a betrayal to Rhea, to someone you loved more than you could ever love him. But you are weak, too broken down by grief and fear to oppose him.

You need someone to tell you everything will be alright. And Daemon makes sure he is available for the job. He fights off your loneliness when you ask him to.

Sometimes, Daemon sits next to you on the bed and talks about Valyrian history or traditions. His tone is soft, and calming. His face lights up when you show an interest in the topic or ask questions that prove you are following his monologue. It’s like seeing an entirely different man.

Before, you would have resented being babied in the way you are. Daemon treats you as if you were a little girl, one he entertains with tales and praises when she is good. Now, you crave the comfort of it.

You still bathe together. Daemon never touches you, though. Not after the night you tried to escape. Sometimes, he just looks at you. You sit there, basking on the freedom of being able to move without the cuffs. You are no longer embarrassed of your nakedness.

The chains frightened you, at first. You are not stupid. You are married to him, in chains and in a room bare except for the bed. What else would you think, if not rape? But Daemon was smarter than that. Insidious. Slowly, he had been coaxing you to let him touch you. At first, you squirmed like your pants were on fire when his hands were on your skin. Then, you had slowly come to accept it as part of your routine. And lately, to crave it.

He had been conditioning into it, you are sure. First, the offers to tend to your wounds, then, massages to your sore ankles and wrists. It was a merely chemical thing, you tried reassuring yourself. Your brain had come to associate endorphins with his touch, and so, like an addict, you sought more.

But you knew, it was no long now before you weren’t able to resist him. It was not a thing of physical strength. He wasn’t going to grab you and force you down. No. It was more complex than that.

Daemon had acquired himself a dreamer, according to him. He was not keen on alienating you, but seducing you. He intended for you to be the one to come to him. Worst thing? You were so touch starved, and so lonely, it was working. Stockholm syndrome, surely.

The next chain would be a child. It was the obvious thing to do, to keep control over the Vale and you. You would never leave if you were pregnant. What would you do, in your world, with a child that could potentially tame dragons and whose legal existence you couldn’t prove? It would surely be too late for abortion, and most probably, time would have passed. How to explain your disappearance?

And of course, there is the fact that your body is rioting against your brain. No matter the phase of your cycle, you are perpetually horny. The smallest of touches or looks make your mind spiral, you daydream about sex and feel the urge to jump Daemon’s bones almost daily.

Maybe there is some truth to whatever they are serving you. The milk and wine are always laced with spices, to make you more agreeable to his advances. At first, you thought it was silly, but by your current state, they seem to be working. You are desperate to be able to masturbate. But bound hands are not particularly useful. Besides, you have an inkling that’s not really what you want.

Every night before bed, Daemon takes the cuffs off and lets you walk around your room. You make small laps around the room, sometimes he tries teaching you the dances people do at feasts. Then, he gets you ready for bed.

Daemon rubs salve into your wrists and ankles. You don't ask him, but you know it has to have some aphrodisiacs on it. When his hands touch your skin, it feels electric. You knew aphrodisiacs existed in your world, even if they were fickle and old wives tales. But in a world where there is magic and dragons? Why not?

Even if not, the whole thing is an assault on your senses. The room filled with incense and candles, the baths, the soft silky clothes. The silence. Usually, when people are not busy enough, they get horny, right?

Perhaps it's the mirror. There is one placed in your room for baths, once you are not on suicide watch. You see yourself for the first time in months, and nearly don’t recognize your reflection. Your hair is longer, falling messily down your back. The sheer shifts you wear, specially tailored for you, make you look put together and sensual.

Collarbones exposed, accentuated hips, bare arms. Botticelli’s Venus comes to life. The image arouses you. You feel naughty in all the right ways, sexy, desirable.

Each night, Daemon’s hands rub the salve slightly higher. You find yourself yearning for his touch, anticipating the moments you will get with him. He massages your calves. Your forearms. He kisses your shoulders. You mewl, desperate. But Daemon doesn't do anything.

You share secrets like they are oozing out of your pores. Aemond's birth. Criston Cole and Rhaenyra fucked. Lucerys. Joffrey. Harwin Strong. Alicent and the rat looking man. Daemon dutifully repeats them to Viserys.

Were you meant to feel this way? You had never expected it, not in a million years. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff. Any second now, and you could plummet down. But what a fall it would be.

Tonight, he is on his knees. Despite being in a dominant position, sitting on the edge of the bed, you don't feel powerful. Daemon has a way of entering a room and just making anyone else fade into the background. He overpowers anyone easily, by sheer presence alone.

Daemon grabs your ankle and gently rubs at it, spreading the salve. He has said he doesn't want you to scar, or hurt. But your newest cuffs have padded interiors, making this whole act pointless. Neither of you voices it.

You shiver. His hands massage your calves.

“Daemon.” The first mistake. You have never, not once, called out his name before. It comes out soft and whiny, in a sweet whisper.

“Should I stop, dreamer?” He gives you a coy look, as his fingers go higher and higher. Ankle, calf, back of the knee. His hands are warm against your skin. Daemon seems to have a fascination with touching you. He cannot keep his hands to himself, no matter how hard he tries.

You say nothing. Daemon kisses your ankle, then your leg. He mouths along your knee. You feel so aroused, you think you are about to pass out. You shouldn’t give in, you know, you know. But it’s the sweetest torture.

He stops right above your knee, looking at you with mischievous eyes. You pant, looking at him like you are about to murder him if he dares deny you now.

“My poor little dreamer, have I neglected you so?” Daemon smirks, and parts your legs, making room for himself. “Don’t worry, we will fix this right away.”

“Stop it.” You mutter, but before you can start explaining to him why this is a bad idea, you feel a sharp sting on your thigh. You moan, feeling utterly confused. In your aroused state, the sting of the bite feels almost pleasant.

“It doesn’t sound like you want me to stop.” Daemon soothes the hurt with his tongue. He looks hungry, pupils blown and hair mussed just so. “Besides, I have been very patient with you, have I not?” His fingers dig in more harshly. He is right, of course. He could have fucked you already if he wanted to. It's not like anyone would come to your defense.

“You have.” You agree, shakily. His tongue draws little ribbons over your inner thigh. You cannot stop moaning, for some reason. And you are no stranger to sex, not as Daemon thinks. You were not a virgin when you got here. Despite knowing this screams of consent issues and that he is trying to manipulate you, you cannot help it.

You wonder how Rhaenyra and Laena ever stood a chance, being mere girls when they met him. If everyone told you this was wrong, but the first time he touched you felt this pleasurable, would you believe it?

No. You are more than enough proof of it.

“I will make it good for you, little one.” He kisses higher, this time. Along the juncture where your leg meets your hip. “It's a kindness most wives don't get.”

“I know, but…” You stop talking and melt into a sight when he rubs a finger over your labia, spreading the wetness there. You know if you keep talking, he will be able to hear exactly how much his touch is affecting you.

“I just want to look at you. And kiss you a little.” Daemon says, and his tone leaves no room for argument. His hands rub soothingly along the outside of your thigh. “I won’t take your maidenhead… Yet.”

Maidenhead. What’s that supposed to mean? You try to remember, certain that you have heard it before. Rhea mentioned it? Or was it the girls? Maidens. They called maidens women who were virgins. God. He thinks you are still a virgin.

He won’t fuck you, tonight. You hope that his plans for just touching and kissing include an orgasm because you feel like you will go mad if you don’t come tonight.

You could tell him the truth. But what would you gain? Daemon only believes what pleases him. You have told him time and time again that you are not a dreamer. You even tried telling him you were from the future. His words still ring in your ears.

“A world where men and women are equal? And there are no Kings? Oh, my poor confused little thing. You have been reading too much again.”

So telling him would be no use. He might believe it another attempt at getting him to let you go. Or he might actually believe you and try to eviscerate any previous lover of yours. Or gauge their eyes out. Perhaps cut a hand. That’s who Daemon is at his core.

No, it’s better this way. Playing along will get him to be gentler, and he won’t even be able to tell the difference.

“Won’t it hurt?” You ask, and it comes out just the right amount of shy to be believable. It’s easy, leaning on the lingering fear of the fact that this is Daemon you will be going to bed with. Your body reacts to him like it has never reacted to another lover before, yet you shouldn’t be doing this. He is skilled at it. Whoever he was fucking before, she has trained him well.

But now that you have allowed yourself to think, your hesitance takes hold. This is wrong, in so many ways. You shouldn’t be doing this. Yet, you want him so much, you feel like you might burst into flames if you don’t get him right now.

The lure of the forbidden, in all its glory.

“Not tonight.” He kisses your inner thigh, open-mouthed. You tense in anticipation. Daemon can be giving when he wants to be.

“I don’t want it to hurt.” You close your legs, trapping his hand between them. Your lower lip lightly sticks out, playing the part of the disgruntled little girl.

Daemon chuckles. One of his fingers rubs teasingly over your clit. Being a brat always seems to rile him up, and you feel smug at knowing him so well.

Oh, god. What are you even doing? Are you seriously contemplating ways of manipulating him during sex? You shouldn't even be thinking of fucking him. It's disgusting.

It’s not. Not when Daemon’s hands are on your thighs, not when his lips are on your skin. You are just too needy for it. Too many nights have passed since the last time you had been touched in such a way.

His hands knead into your thighs. The touch is greedy, possessive. He makes a tsking sound, and rubs a tight little circle over your clit.

“I’ll warm you up to it. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t… We really shouldn’t…” You plead, weakly. You are trying hard not to succumb to the pleasure.

“Why not?” He asks, pressing his finger over your hole and making you nearly sob in pure neediness. He is not entering, just threatening with it. Both holding you in place and feeling you flutter around him.

Daemon waits for your response, but when you don’t answer as quickly as he hoped, he starts sucking a bruise on your inner thigh.

“Because it’s wrong! You killed Rhea. You have no morals. And… Besides, it’s not me. I don’t want it.” You try to scramble away, suddenly regaining your senses. It must be the oils. Or the food. Or whatever he puts into your wine.

“Oh?” Daemon presses your hips down with an arm, and rubs around your clit again. He makes a show of taking his fingers away from you and admiring them in the light. Your arousal shines on them, sticky wet. “If you don’t want it, why are you dripping all over the bed? What is it, if not arousal?”

“The oils! The incense!” You complain. His hand, soaked in your juices, comes to cup your face.

“Oh, sweetling, no.” Daemon laughs. He presses his thumb on your lower lip. Despite your best judgment, you open up and taste yourself. “They are not meant to warm your blood. This is all you.”

Your whole body feels hot with embarrassment. He has to be lying. It can't be. You can’t be this… This… No. No. He has to be lying.

Daemon laughs even more at the face you make. He kisses your neck, then your collarbone. He pushes at the strands of your shift, kissing all over your breast. You feel too ashamed, still reeling at the realization that this is, in fact, all you, to push him off. You are the crazy woman who is begging to have sex with a killer.

He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking slightly. You moan, arching your back to offer more skin to kiss. Daemon does so, greedily.

He kisses your sternum, then your belly. He bites at the curve of your waist, making you squeal. His lips go lower, kissing over your womb. Then, your mound. And finally, your labia.

Daemon pulls your lips apart and gently nips your clit, taking it between his teeth. Despite how gentle he is being, you jolt. It’s too much stimulation at once, and it’s bordering on the painful. Yet, he shows he can read your body well, because he quickly recovers and chooses to kiss your clitoral hood instead.

You moan again, all high-pitched. The vibrations of his laughter feel very pleasant against your sex.

“That's it. Melt into it, little dreamer.” Daemon says, before going back to eating you out. This time, he sucks slightly harder. You tense in his arms. You can feel the pleasure rising and rising. Never has a partner driven you this fast towards an orgasm.

It's too much and too little.

“I… More, please.” You plead, petting his hair.

He gets up, and kisses you, for the first time in months. You sigh into his mouth. It's then that he pushes his finger inside of you. Immediately, you tighten and tense around him, all sense of embarrassment gone.

“This was just what you needed, wasn’t it?” Daemon whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe before speaking again. You buck your hips, trying to get him to move his finger. He complies, making a come and hither motion. His other hand rubs circles on your clit. “Yes, you needed someone to show you who you really were. My needy little dragon.”

You try to swallow down your scream, muffling it with your hand. The praise, mixed in with the raspy, hungry tone it's delivered in, makes your head swim.

“Come on, don’t fight it.” Daemon encourages, and bends down to take your nipple inside his mouth. It's enough to send you over the edge. This time, you actually scream, tensing under him. White, hot, blinding pleasure. And he strokes you through it, making everything more intense.

As you pant there, coming down from your high, it occurs to you to return the favor. It had been one of the best orgasms of your life, you wouldn't mind pleasing him in exchange. Your mouth watered at the thought of what else he could do.

You place a shaky hand on his thigh, but Daemon pushes it away, gently.

“You will learn to please me too, Wife. In time. But not tonight.” Daemon kisses your cheek, sweetly.

“When?”

“We have the rest of our lives to figure it out.” It’s then when it sinks in. Daemon is never planning to let you go. You start to cry. What have you done?

Daemon sighs. He starts rubbing soothing circles on your back, as if you were a child. That night, he stays. You fall asleep in his arms, warm and relaxed. For the first time in weeks, you do not dream of Rhea.

A few months go by. The season changes, from warm summer to harsh winter. And just as the season changes, so do you.

You wake in your chambers, the bed next to you cold. Your ankles hurt.

You put on a light dress, and go in search for your husband. As you pass the servants and guards, they give you respectful nods and greetings.

Daemon sits on the Iron Throne. Viserys’s health has been worsening, lately. He looks up at you, taking his eyes from the parchment he is reading. His eyes greedily trace your figure.

“I swear you get more beautiful every day.” He says, as you let your dress pool at your ankles.

“Everyday I look rounder, more like it.” You complain. At the door, the guards discretely look away. If you want to parade around naked, so be it. It’s up to them to avert their eyes, if they don’t want to lose them, Daemon has instructed.

No one dares oppose him. Not anymore, with you by his side. Viserys’s reign might just go down as one of the bloodiest in history, with how hard the two of them have been working to rid the realm of any future enemy of Rhaenyra.

He laughs.

“You do not. You look like my dreamer.”

You roll your eyes at him, cradling your belly. His breathing hitches, minutely. There is arousal in his expression, once again. The more obvious your pregnancy becomes, the more he wants you. Daemon likes how your body has changed, how there are stretch marks on previously smooth skin, how your breasts are fuller.

“My ankles hurt. Make it better?”

What was life before him? You can barely remember how you functioned before, having to make all the decisions and thinking. Trusting him is easier. Daemon loves you. He wants the best for you.

You don't hate him as much as you thought. You might even love him back. No. You love the pleasure he gives you, you are hooked to it. You need him like a heroin addict needs her next fix.

Before, you used to be a good person. You cared about others. Now, you care about yourself, the baby and him. In that order.

You had plans. You had a future, a career. Now, you live the day. If you think too hard about tomorrow, you feel like you can't breathe. So you don't. It's easier, this way.

Daemon likes you more like this. Not a little girl anymore, but a woman. One he molded into his perfect partner. Strong, but never stronger than him. Smart, but not enough to escape him. And a little broken. Still with a bit of fire, still a little rebellious. But never trying to get away.

He says you are more of a goddess than a woman. Special. Holy. Before, your courses aligned with the moon, your pregnancy timed just right. The baby should be here just when spring turns to summer. What could you be, if not a little goddess?

The mysteries of womanhood fascinate him. It’s made even worse with your knowledge of the future. He seems to think all you know about pregnancy is part of your powers as a dreamer. Once, you made the mistake of telling him the baby could hear him. Daemon has never skipped a day of talking to them since.

You barely think of Rhea, these days. Daemon keeps you away from Runestone and occupied with other matters. Matters that are much more pleasurable to think about than your past.

“Come, Lady Wife.”

And you do.

You wear other kinds of chains now.

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marvelcriminalhoe · 2 years

Text

Mavs Kinktober

Dark! Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen! Reader

“You look good with my hand around your throat.”

Warnings: This is a Dark! story, so 18+ only. Noncon. Incest (Uncle/Niece.) Age gap. Pervy Daemon. Creepy men. Forced touching. Grouping. Unwanted touching. Manipulation. Choking. Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it.) Damaging someone’s reputation (On purpose.) Talks of forced marriage.

AN: 3rd time posting because it just wont show up in the tags :/ Anyway stay tuned for more Daemon and the rest of my kinktober stories!

Word Count: 3,838

It’s tiering sometimes being a princess. Of course, you try not to complain, not wanting to burden anyone with your selfish thoughts, you definitely don't have it as your sister Rhaenyra, the heir to the iron thrown, but it’s still tiering. Having to constantly be regal and poised, having to converse with people that want nothing more than to use you to up their own status in court, having to entertain the hoards of Lords that want to marry you, only for power and your body.

Rhaenyra and you have always been close, only 2 years between the two of you, and you know far more Lords tried to gain her favor than you, but usually, when they would strike out with her, most of them would crawl to your side and try for the other princess.

Despite your closeness, you are very different. The main one being you’ve never understood the whispers of the dragons rage, not having experienced it like the rest of your blood, but watching your sister next to you, you only hoped you never would.

Your sisters rage only seemed to intensify when her betrothal to your cousin, Laenor, was announced by king father. She stormed out of the council meeting and you swear you could see actual smoke coming off of her. She protested, loudly, screamed and cried at your father. She didn't want to marry him, the only man she wanted to marry was the prince of the city, your uncle, Deamon Targaryen.

Rhaenyra had always sort of been infatuated with him. You could understand why, he was handsome, had that adventurous spirit your sister also carried, and was not a poised member of the court, something your sister loathed of all her other suitors.

She seemed to always over looked how controlling Daemon seemed to be. How dark his gaze was, the demons within his eyes always sending shivers down your spine when his purple orbs connected with yours.

Unlike your sister, you always tried to avoid him, which also always seemed to be hard task. Where you were, Daemon seemed to follow. If you were in the gardens, enjoying a nice walk, he would soon appear by your side, offering you his arm and taking the walk with you, no matter how much you protested wanting to be alone. If you were in the library, reading a book in the quiet, he seemed to know, seeking you out and ruining the silence with his deep voice.

Daemon just aways seemed to rub you the wrong way, his lingering eyes, his far too sweet touch. The rumors about him didn't help. The stories of his anger, his temper, only heightened your fear. You never understood Rhaenyra’s true fascination.

If you’re going to be wed to a Lord, you hope it will be someone kind, someone you can for a friendship with. Your sister did not seem to have the same sentiment.

Sadly, your sister did not get her wish. Your uncle, who's wife died a 4 moon turns ago, declined the offer to marry your sister, something that shocked everyone, aside from your father however, who seemed highly pleased with his answer.

If you were brave enough, you would have questioned him about why he would do such a thing, but instead, you gently excused yourself to follow your sister out, allowing her to cry on your shoulder while you tried consoling her heartbreak.

Two moon turns later, your sister, still forlorn, was dressed to the nines for her wedding. You complimented her dress and hair, trying to get a smile on her face, but her mood did not rise. Not while getting ready, not at the ceremony, and not even at the celebration feast afterwards.

You watched her most of the night from where you sat at the head table, her gaze locked on your uncle, who seemed keen on ignoring her completely. Calling out her name when she seemed to have enough of the festivities in her honor, you chose not to follow as she left the hall, instead sending a sympathetic smile to Laenor as he followed his now wife.

With your sister and her new husband gone, definitely not enjoying their marital bed, you are left alone, without a shield from the Lords visiting, and with Rhaenyra officially off the market, it will only be that more exhausting to try and fend them off.

Which is how you ended up here, trying to discreetly get out of a conversation with Lord Jason Lannister, the absolute bane of your existence. He is an egotistical man, but then again, most of them are. Lord Lannister just seems to always know how to trap you in conversation with him for far too long.

Just as you are trying, again, to excuse yourself, a voice from behind you seems to do it for you, “Lord Lannister, would you mind giving me a moment with my dear niece.” It was phrased as a question, but everyone knew it wasn’t one. Prince Daemon doesn't ask questions, only gives orders. You don’t hear what Lord Lannister says to him, turning around to face your uncle. He’s closer than you thought, or is appropriate, but that also doesn't surprise you.

Daemon is anything but appropriate.

“Uncle.” You greet, your voice coming out as more of a whisper when his purple gaze meets yours. This is the closest you've been to him since he returned to the castle, having been away for awhile. You've been successful in avoiding him, having your hand in a lot of the preparations for your sisters wedding, trying to make sure that despite her not wanting it, it would still be a day fit for the future queen.

Daemon returns your greeting with your name falling from his lips, almost in a mocking whisper to match yours. You take in his appearance. His pink lips painted with a smirk, his white hair now cut short and pushed back, a few stray strands falling in front. He is handsome, something everyone has always known, even you.

Just as you took him in, Daemon seems to have taken you in as well. His eyes, dark and enticing, trailing up and down your body, with a deep hunger, his tongue poking out to wet his lips, his hand reaching out to curl a strand of your hair behind your ear, his warm, callused hand resting a few moments longer on your soft skin than is proper, as he speaks your families mother language, “Ao jurnegon gevie, riñītsos.” Your heart speeds up a little at his words, You look beautiful, little girl, But he doesn't stop there, “Se olvie gevie riña isse se dārion.” The most beautiful girl in the kingdom.

You clear your throat, briefly blinking away from his stare before gaining the courage to look back at him, “I think that is insensitive to say, considering this is the future queens wedding.”

“And yet,” Daemon smirks, stepping closer to you, “It doesn't stop it from being true.”

When you were younger, you, like your sister, admired your uncle. He was always fun to be around, entertaining you with stories of his life, taking you on a ride with Caraxes before you were allowed to ride your own dragon, giving you gifts from his many travels all around. It wasn’t until you grew into womanhood when you started to drift away, being taught by your Septa after your first bleed that some men are not good men, even if they are good around you. You learned how to properly read people, how to know which rumors are true and which are not, and that is how you learned that your uncle, has never been who you thought he was.

Daemon Targaryen is a Dragon, through and through.

“It seems the feast has tired me out more than I believed, surely I should retire.” You find yourself trying to excuse yourself from the man, much like you do with the other men of the court that give off the warning bells in your head, “Sȳz bantis, kepus.” Goodnight, uncle.

Though, your escape is in vain, “I shall escort you to your chambers then.” Daemon offers you his arm. You open your mouth to protest, stating your guard can escort you, only for Daemon to intervene, “Who better to protect you than your warrior uncle, dear niece?” You didn't have an answer for that, making you be on a quiet walk down the halls of the castle, your uncle by your side. The walk to your chambers seemed longer tonight, a small chill in the air as you move, and you think your uncle is walking slower than normal to prolong the journey. A thought you let leave your mind the moment it enters, Why would he do that? It’s not like you’re even conversing.

Reaching your doors, you are surprised to see the entry way empty of a guards presence, making your frown. There is always a guard in front of your chambers, your father all but demanding it, over protective, especially after your mother died and your sisters adventurous ways.

“It would be very reckless of me to leave you unguarded.” Your uncle voices, drawing you back from the wandering thoughts of where your guard could be.

You send a small, forced smile up at him, “I am sure I will be fine until they return.” “Then I will stay until then.” Daemon responds, and you should have known he always gets what he wants. With a sigh, you walk into your chambers, only for your uncle to follow you in as well, you turn to face him, “Uncle?” “You don’t expect the Prince to wait outside, do you, dear niece?” He questioned sarcastically, walking past you and further into the room, over towards your fireplace, making himself comfortable on the couch in front of it.

“What if someone sees you leave my chambers?” You don't want people getting any sort of ideas to spread rumors and tarnish your reputation.

Daemon quells your worries with a hearty laugh, “Is it a crime to want to spend time with my niece, who I have missed dearly on my travels?”

When you didn't move from your stunned spot by the door, he turns his head to you, brow raised, “Kessa ao daor join aōha kepa, gevie riña?” Will you not join your uncle, pretty girl?

You feel yourself flustered from his outward flirting, not used to such blatant compliments. Sure, you get the occasional one, but most are worried of being inappropriate and taken wrong, offending you, a princess, but obviously the city prince is not worried about such things.

“You enjoy reading, don’t you?” Daemon gestures to your stacks of books among the wall when you sit on the couch with him, keeping a good distance between the both of you. His question is not one you expected, but it leads you into a nice conversation with him about the things you've learned, making you relax the longer you are in his presence, not even noticing Daemon nearing you as the conversation goes on.

It’s not until he interrupts one of your retellings of Dragon History: Targaryen Riders, that you see how close you've gotten. Your shoulder brushing his, making you falter and tense up, “Your dress is very lovely.” His eyes are scrutinizing as he studies the layers of red and gold cloth adorning you. “Thank you,” You falter, not knowing if he actually means it, it’s always hard to tell with him. If he’s mocking you or being serious. 9 times out of 10 it’s the former, “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mmm.” Daemon hums, eyes slowly moving from up to your eyes, “I can see why. Though, I am sure the corset is dreadful to wear for so long.” You laugh lightly, he’s not wrong, “I have had plenty of practice.”

“Well, in the comfort of your own chambers, I am sure you can enjoy being out of the confines of such a foundation.”

His suggestion catches you off guard, making your eyes widen. Surely he knows how improper his insinuation is, even, and especially being, behind closed doors. But judging by how his eyes are glued to your covered chest, moving up and down more rapidly with every passing minute by the bubbling anxiety in your veins, he is completely aware. Your mouth goes dry, as you feel his warm hand gently caressing your skin, up your arm, over your clothed shoulder, to your back, where the laces of your corset sit.

“Daemon—“ You start, only to gasp as he skillfully undoes them. It shouldn't surprise you, you suppose, you’ve heard all of the rumors of him, he probably has plenty of experience with untying a woman’s corset.

“Just trying to get you more comfortable.” Daemon remarks, as if this is a normal situation. Granted, it is for him.

He doesn't give you time to reject, using both of his hands to unlace your corset, and the top of your skirt, forcing you to throw both of your hands up to hold your top in place, keeping your dignity, or whats left of it now.

“Stand up.” Daemon demands, making you shake your head, his voice growing more impatient, “Stand up.”

You do as your told, afraid of the repercussions if he were to be angered further, swallowing thickly as he uses his hands on your waist to turn you to face him, your skirt lowering slightly from you standing, being pushed down more and falling to your knees. You hear him hum as he grabs your wrists, forcing them down with tight grips, and making your corset fall the same way.

You feel embarrassed, not being able to look the prince in the eyes as he takes in your body lustfully. Your not bare to him, thankfully, but the small slip you wear under your dresses to keep from the laces rubbing your skin raw is as thin as one of your sleep dresses. Still, you’ve never been this exposed to a man. It’s indecent, and if someone were to know, were to find out, your character would be seriously tarnished. Ruined.

“Iā drēje jurnegon.” Daemon says, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to reach out to the slip, rubbing the silk between his fingers. A true sight.

You gasp as he pulls you forward closer to him, between his spread knees. You try to remain standing, but with another harsh pull, you fall on his lap, “Iā jaesa, drējī.” A Goddess, truly.

“Daemon—” You try to move off of his lap, his tight grip on your hips making you stay in place with a wince, a warning given no doubt.

“Let me enjoy the beauty in front of me.” He orders, his hands roaming your body. You jolt in shock as one of his thumbs rubs over your breast, your nipple hardening as he does it again. You feel tears pricing your eyes, but don’t try to pull away again, the bruises forming already from his angry hands keeping you complacent. “You have grown into such a beautiful lady over the years, forced me to watch you from afar. Teased me for too long.” A whimper leaves your lips and the first of the tears falls from your eyes when you feel the softest of caresses from Daemon’s lips touch your neck. The sound seemed to have broke any resolve he was holding back, if there was any to begin with, and your world spins as he flips you onto your back, him above you, making a home between your legs. The darkness in his eyes has you terrified as he looks down at you, but your reputation has you pleading with him, “Please uncle, Daemon— stop this.”

“Such a sweet voice,” He ignores your words, “Such a sweet girl.” He reconnects his lips to your neck, much harsher than the caress from earlier, “You taste just as sweet.”

You use your hands to push on his shoulders, but he drops all of his weight onto you, making your effort futile. You have no doubt that he is sucking and biting marks onto your neck, marks that you wont be able to hide or conceal, marks that will have rumors about your innocence roaming the halls of every castle in the seven realms.

“Stop.” You try again, but with the crack in your voice, sniffle of your nose, it is so pathetic.

Daemon listens to you however, tearing his lips from your neck to glare down at your face, moving one of his roaming hands to your throat, squeezing tightly, “You do not give me orders.” The sneer of his lips you've seen before, something he gives to his enemies, and somehow, that includes you now.

How you are the foe in this situation, baffles you.

More tears fall from your eyes as you wrap your hands around his wrist, trying and failing to pry it from your throat. His eyes zero in on his hand, contracting around your neck more, cutting off your airway completely. The sneer turns into a smug smirk, the glint in his eyes growing darker if possible, “You look good with my hand around your throat.” He draws his face closer, forcing a kiss upon your lips, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, as he huskily says between them, “You were made to wear my hand. Made for me to use.”

He removes his hand, having you draw in gasps of air, not realizing the tearing sound you hear is your slip until you feel Daemon’s tongue on your exposed breasts.

His sucking and biting borders on painful, but it doesn't stop the sounds from falling from your mouth, embarrassingly loud. The groan that follows from Daemon is sinful, as is the shock you receive when he grounds his hips into yours.

“Lvestragī nyke rȳbagon aōha dōna sounds arlī, ñuha jorrāelagon.” Daemon demands, Let me hear your sweet sounds again, my love, Grounding his hips against yours over and over, pulling the sounds from you, no matter how hard you try to hid them.

You whimper when he finally pulls away, out of relief or distress you aren't sure, but Daemon doesn’t completely get off you, instead undoing his trousers and pulling his cock free, you start to panic again.

“Daemon, don’t do this.” Tears falling freely down your face as you watch the prince run his hand up and down his hard, red cock. You’ve never seen one, and wonder briefly if all of them are this big, but you don’t get to have anymore thoughts as his cock brushes against the lips of your cunt, “Please don’t!” You try to sit up, only for one of his hands to find home around your neck again, squeezing enough to caution you into not moving again.

“Don’t play so innocent.” Daemon stares at his cock, running through your lips and gathering your wetness, “If you didn't want this, you wouldn't be so soaked for me.” He groans as he moves his cock to your opening, his head sinking in slowly, as his gaze moves to your tear stained face, “You want me as much as I want you, princess. Crave me as I crave you.”

Your sobs of pain and dread don’t discourage him as he continues to sink into you until his his naked hips are flesh against yours. The small shake of your head doesn’t stop him from believing in his words.

“How you've deprived me too long of your soft walls and sweet flesh. I’ll teach you everything about pleasure, eventually. ” Daemon waits only a second before pulling out and pushing back in, your legs wide around him, his eyes staring at yours, his hair framing his face, his hand still securely around your throat, “But tonight, I’ve waited too long. You’re mine. From tonight on I will not be deprived again.”

He moans louder as he speeds up his thrusts dropping his head down to your neck. You feel sick at the feel of him inside you, his hot breath on your skin, his moans in your ear. But what makes you feel the most ailing, is how good it starts to feel, your body betraying you the most in this affair.

“I feel you squeezing me.” Daemon groans, letting go of your throat to grope your breast instead, kissing up you jaw, “Let me hear you.” He murmurs, “Lvestragī nyke rȳbagon mirre lī gevie elēni.” Let me hear all those beautiful sounds.

His whispering in your ear and the skillful assault of his hands and hips has you whimpering. You can feel every inch of him inside you, a disgustingly pleasing thought as you allow for the pleasure to take over you, not having the strength to continue fighting. You don’t know how long you whimper underneath him until you’re crying out, reaching your peak, and coming around him, squeezing his cock as tight as he squeezed your throat earlier.

The action makes Daemon growl, “That’s it, love. Let me feel you. Feels good doesn't it?” He speeds up his thrusts, angling your hips to go deeper and harder against you, “My cock feels so good inside you, made to be inside you. We were made for each other.”

His lips crash against yours firmly, bruising-ly, his hips stuttering as you feel his cock throb against your walls, his cum coating your insides as he drops onto of you completely, chest heaving up and down.

The kiss turns soft as he seems to come down from his own high, pulling away to ogle you beneath him, spent from his intrusions. He peppers your face with soft pecks, not caring for the taste of salt as you continue to cry lightly. You whine as he pulls out of you, sore, but you're too exhausted to care about anything else. You feel yourself be lifted from the couch and moved to a soft mattress, your tired brain supplying it’s probably your bed. You hear the sound of clothes rustling, and someone stoking the fire, before the mattress and blankets seem to move, hands grabbing at your aching body and pulling you towards them.

“We’ll tell them in the morning.” You feel Daemon murmur against your temple, placing more soft caresses against you, “We’ll tell them your mine and marry you to me, as it’s always meant to be. Your reputation renewed.”

You whine, something that doesn't make sense. There are so many things you should say, that need to be done, your reputation completely tarnished now, innocence taken, even with talks of trying to fix it with marriage, a marriage you've never wanted with him.

A marriage he’s seemed too keen to have regardless.

“Shh, it’s alright,”Daemon whispers in your ear as he curls around your worn out form, you feel something hard probing your oversensitive area, but your exhaustion seems to only grow heavier, “Just going to keep me warm, nothing else. I’ll let you rest. I’m sure your guard is back from the errand he was running for me and your sounds are only for my ears right now."

You don’t protest his words, allowing darkness to consume you completely. Not as if you could protest. Daemon Targaryen is a dragon, through and through, and he always gets what he wants.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #house of dragon #house of dragon fic #daemon #targaryen #targaryen reader

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sollsmith · 2 months

Text

Fire in the Flesh

Chapter Seven

Daemon Targaryen x Original Female Character

Words: 5K

Warnings: mentions of abuse/injury, NSFW smut, fingering (f recieving), sex w/o a condom, taking of virginity, blood

Summary:

After five years at war in the Stepstones and the death of his first wife, Daemon Targaryen returns to court embroiling himself, and his niece and heir to the throne Rhaenyra, in chaos and scandal. Daemon’s actions cause Viserys to give him the one thing he has always wanted. A Valyrian bride. Just not the one he had in mind.

“Maybe we should put it up? In a braid?” She had suggested to Rhaenyra when they were deciding what to do with her hair, wanting the relief of it being lifted off her neck. She was uncommonly hot, and Daella was not sure if it was her lack of sleep or the much too hot bath that was run for her this morning by the random handmaid she had been offered by Rhaenyra for the morning.

“I don’t think that will work with the headpiece.” Rhaenyra replied, picking it up to inspect it, twirling it around in her hands, its embroidery casting shards of white light to dance over the walls of the room. “Besides, he will prefer it down.”

“Mm, down it is then.” Daella hums, rubbing lotion into her hands as she sits in the stool in front of the vanity. Rhaenyra comes up behind her, brush in hand, smiling softly, beginning to remove the strips of silk that were braided through Daella’s hair keeping her curls in place.

“We could do two braids at the side, keep it out of your face? I have a ruby clip that matches your necklace.” She offers, as Daellas' hair begins to pool around her. She had been letting it grow since the news of her betrothal had reached her and it now reached the top of her waist.

“That would be perfect.” Daella says softly. Rhaenyra watches her clearfully, running the brush lightly through her hair. She turns to Cassana, signalling her to go fetch the clip, before moving to lean in front of Daella, grabbing her hands in her own.

“Marra will come around. Give her some time.” Rhaenyra smiles softly.

“I’m about to do the one thing she does not want me to do.”

“Not by your own choice. She is worried about you, if anything this just shows how much she cares about you.”

Daella does not see anything for a moment, just simply rubs her thumbs along Rhaenyra’s hands. If it wasn’t for Rhaenyra, she would be completely alone. “You and Alicent never made up.” She points out.

“No, but that was a betrayal of her own volition.” Daella watches her tense slightly at the mention of her former friend. Rhaenyra gives her hands a small squeeze before standing and returning to Daella’s hair. “Your situation is very different.”

“Does she have a reason?” Daella can't help but ask one more time.

“For what?”

“To be worried about me?”

Rhaenyra laughs softly, shaking her head. It must be her at least the tenth time had asked this question, in various different forms, with each time getting her the same answer.

“My uncle is a lot of things, cold and cruel among them. But I swear to you, Daemon will not hurt you or cause you any pain.” Rhaenyra catches Daella’s eyes in the mirror. “Besides, he is completely enamoured with you.”

“We haven’t even held a conversation longer than ten words.” It was Daella's turn to laugh now.

“Words don’t mean a whole lot to my uncle.”

Daella legs are weak as she exits the oxcart that has pulled up outside the Dragon Pit. Her father clammers out behind her, waving to the crowds of small folk that have gathered to get a glimpse at their new Princess and bride of the Rogue Prince. He grips the back of her arm tightly.

“Wave, these are your people now.” He hisses. Daella raises her hand, smiling and waving softly. As she looks around, she spots Maelor standing at the foot of the steps. She has to stop herself from screaming and running to him, but does begin her dash towards him, ignoring her fathers demanding wishes to come back to him. She reaches him, wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him towards her into a hug.

“I told you that you would abandon me!” She says softly, teasingly.

“I did not abandon you.” Maelor shakes his head, offering her his arm as they run to make their way up the grand steps. “I was spending time with my betrothed. As you were, I heard.” He was smirking.

“Stop it” Daella giggles. “It’s been a nightmare. I only met him three times, two of which were by accident.” She whispers.

“And?”

“He was pleasant enough.” Maelor snorts at this. Daella shoots him a look. “Don’t you start too. I’ve already lost Marra to this nonsense.”

“You haven’t lost her. She spent yesterday evening crying in my chamber.” Daella shakes her head. Maelor pulls them to a stop once they reach the top of the steps. The large wooden doors of the Pit lying wide open, she can hear the people inside chattering amongst themselves, and a familiar figure standing just at the door. “She thinks you're going to have her shipped back to Volantis.”

“So I marry a man she deems cruel and now I am also?” Daella laughs, the notion is so insane to her she doesn’t have time to be offended by it.

“It’s Marra being Marra. Give her time.” Maelor says, his head turning to look over at the figure standing at the door. “You will tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Daella questions.

“If he hurts you.” Maelor whispers. Daella glances towards Daemon who is now watching them, not really listening to Maelor. “Do not let the next chapter of your life be the same as the first.”

“What?” Daella's head whips back to her brother. Maelor is staring at her, eyes glazed with tears.

“Marra told me. Her only chance before she got shipped off to Volantis I guess.” Maelor jokes softly. “You should have told me. I would hav-”

“There is nothing you could have done. He does the same to you. We both did what we could to protect each other from it.”

Maelor nods softly, pulling his sister in for a hug, gently placing a kiss to the side of her head. Daella savours the hug for a moment, before a voice causes them to pull apart.

“Princess? We are ready for you now.” A man in grey robes approaches them. Daella nods at him, before looking back to Maelor. He gives her a soft smile. Daella walks with the man towards the door, her husband to be watching. He is already dressed in his robes. Daella smiles at him as she approaches.

“Hello.” She says stopping in front of him. Daemon looks down at her, taking her in. Her dress was made of thin fabric, the expensive kind only found in rich markets across the Jade Sea. It was flowy and whipped magically in the soft wind. It was cut low, the red fabric sitting on her edge of shoulders, the bodice embroidered with gold swirls and dragons. The bottom of the dress was dipped in black, and gold jewels decorated her wrists, fingers and neck. She was the picture of the perfect Valyrian bride.

“Hello.” He says back, watching as her cheeks burn from his visual assault. The man in the grey robe approaches again, her robes in hand. She moves to allow him to place the robe on her, wrapping it around her before tying the belt and walking away. “Nervous?”

“A little.” Daella breathes, looking into the large pit that currently houses a couple of hundred men and women.

“Don’t be. No one in there matters but you and I.” Daemon says, his hand reaching out to grab the head piece from the robed man. “Let me.”

“That’s a brave thing to say about a room that houses the King.” Daella retorts as Daemon places the gold piece on her head. He laughs gently, leaning back to look at her.

“Vok.” He remarks, turning to face the door fully. Daella follows suit as an older man, dressed in a more extravagant embellished grey robe approaches them from inside the pit.

“ivestragī īlva rhaenagon, kessa.” He states, turning back around, he singles for them to follow him. “Māzigon.”

Daella and Daemon walk along behind the senior dragon keeper into the pit. The room goes quiet as they watch their prince and his to-be wife make their way down the aisle together. Daella can pick up on some confused whispering.

“Have they never seen a Valyrian wedding before?” Daella whispers. Daemon shakes his head. She was shocked. She assumed at least one of their ancestors would have married in this way. As they reach the end of the aisle she finds Maelor, standing with their father. She sees Viserys, sitting, not only with the Hand Lord Strong by his side, but along the Queen. It’s the first time Daella had seen her. She was young, and pretty, just as Marra had said. Her hand was resting on Viserys in a comforting way, and in that moment Daella saw her as older than both herself and Rhaenyra would. He felt a fleeting feeling of sorrow for her.

Her eyes then found Rhaenyra who was smiling brightly at her, Laenor and the Velaryons seated near her. She bows her head at Rhaenyra, before letting her eyes flicker around some more. She could not find her. Did she not show up?

“Behind, second row, to your left.” Daemon whispers, just as they reach the steps. Daella turns her head before she makes her way up to them, locking eyes with Marra. Marra smiles at her, a tight lipped smile.

She climbs the steps onto the platform, the large altar of candles taking up most of the room. She and Daemon stand directly in front of it, turning to face each other. The dragon keeper standing off to their left. He holds his hands up, and the doors of the pit are pulled closed, silence enveloping the room.

“Hen lantoti ānogar, Va sȳndroti vāedroma,” He begins.

Daemon is handed the small piece of dragon glass, he looks at Daella lips, hand reaching up to hold her head in his hands. He lifts the shard to her lips, softly cutting a small slit down the middle of her bottom lip. His thumb runs along her lip, collecting the blood that is slowly beginning to seep from it. His eyes now meet hers, as he lifts his blood covered thumb to her forehead and marks it with fire.

“Mēro perzot gīhoti, Elēdroma iārza sīr,”

Daella breathes in as Daemon moves to give her the shard indicating it is now her turn. She takes it from him, her free hand reaching up to grip his chin. She realises that that is the first time she had ever touched him. He has touched her, but she's never had her hands on his body. Unable to stop herself she gently strokes her jaw with her thumb, before raising the dragon glass to his lip. She makes the cut, lighter than she intended, but enough to collect some blood on her thumb, raising it to his forehead, marking him with blood.

“Izulī ampā perzī, Prūmī lanti sēteksi,”

She has to stop herself from correcting the mark as it begins to smudge, pulled from it as Daemon reaches for her free hand to retrieve the dragon glass shard. He turns his left hand palm up and holds it flat, slicing into it, cutting a long line along it. He holds it up, allowing the blood to pool in his palm as he hands the shard back. Daella takes it, softly slipping it into her left hand, holding her right hand just as Daemon had done with his left. It was then she realised how badly she was shaking. She placed the tip of the blade just under her index finger, trying to calm herself before making the cut.

Daella glances over at her father, who is now glaring at her. She is now aware that she is taking a long time. Longer than she should be, but before she breaks eye contact, she feels a hand reach under her flattened hand, grabbing her wrist to keep it still. Her eyes snap to Daemon who nods down at her hand. Daella lets go of the sigh she did not know she was holding, before cutting into her own skin.

“Hen jenȳ māzīlarion, Qēlossa ozūndesi,”

They move their bloody hands together, fingers wrapping around each other and blood flows to the ground beneath them. The dragon keeper moves forward, taking a piece of cloth and wrapping it around their intertwined hands, before shuffling off again. Daella’s eyes flicker back to Daemons, who are staring right back, a small smile on his lips. One only she can see.

“Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo”

A cup is placed in front of her, and Daella takes it, raising it to her lips, not taking her eyes off Daemon. She takes a small gulp of the wine that is housed within the cup, before handing it to Daemon. He does the same, raising it to his lips, eyes still trained on her, pulling their bloody hands closer to his chest. His thumb that was not encased in the soaked fabric was slowly rubbing her still exposed knuckles in comfort.

“Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.” The dragon keeper finished. That was the Daella’s favourite part of Valyrian weddings. They were short, but intimate in a way she could not explain. She smiles at Daemon, as his eyes flicker down to her lips. Daemon leans towards her, his right hand moving up to finger through her hair and pulling her head towards him. She lets him pull her towards him, head dipping down to meet his lips with hers. Daella leans up into it, eyes closing. It’s the first time she had been kissed. She can hear the crowd that has been watching them begin to clap and cheer, kiss marking the end of the ceremony. She pulls away for a moment, wanting to catch her breath, but Daemon pulls her back for another more intense one this time, his tongue running along her lip, hungry for the blood that still freshly seeped from her lip.

Daemon stops before the wooden door, hanging his head and sighing, collecting himself for a few moments. He had managed to avoid a bedding ceremony by having Rhaenyra sneak Daella out of the hall, before slipping out himself after. While Daemon was not necessarily opposed to bedding ceremonies, in fact he had partaken in a few himself, the thought of other men touching and stripping Daella disturbed him. He could picture it, her innocent eyes welling up with fear and tears as some old fuck from the Crownlands tried to get at her breasts or cunt, and he would refused to have the image shown to him in real time.

Daemon had spent a great deal of time battling with his affection for the girl he barely knew. It confused him deeply. He had assumed he would hate the girl, she would become a second Rhea, in both marriage and fate. But the moment her tear rimmed valyrian eyes had looked up at him in Mellos room mere seven nights ago, he had felt a shift. It wasn’t love, but an odd mix of aggressive lust and possessiveness that he had never felt for anyone before but Rhaenyra, and Daella was permitted. She was all his.

He pushes opening the door, stepping into the chamber, before turning to close it. He debates if he should open it and leave again. He didn’t consummate his first marriage, who will stop him from doing the same with this one? He makes the decision to lock the door and enter further into the chamber, moving towards the wine pitcher and cups sitting on the small table. He pours himself a cup, larger than socially acceptable and downs it.

Daella watches her new husband from the end of the bed. Her hands tucked under her thighs, and she had already indulged in her own cup of wine. He hadn’t even glanced her way.

“How is your hand?” He asks, watching as Daella slipped her still bandaged hand out from under the thigh.

“The bleeding has stopped. Mellos gave me some milk of the poppy to dull the stinging.” Daella answers, turning her hand palm up, showing off the clean white linen. It was her third of the evening, the others all becoming soaked with blood at various points throughout the feast.

“Good. Go easy on the milk.” Daemon instructs. Daella laughs internally at him, the strictness in his tone. Daemon must see this playing out in her head as he speaks again, “I do not jest Daella.”

“I know.” She says softly, smiling at him, going quiet again. Silence permeates the room. Daella takes to looking at the floor. They both know why they are here, what they are expected to do, but neither wants to bring the topic to the surface. After a while of uncomfortable silence, Daemon makes the first move.

“Maiden, I assume?” Daemon clears his throat while asking.

Daella looks back up at him and nods. She’s not sure, but she thinks she can see a flash of pity in his eyes.

“We don’t-”

“No. I want to.” Daella interrupts quickly, not letting him finish what she knows he is about to suggest. Daemon raises his eyebrows at the interruption, setting his cup down.

“He will want proof.” She whispers, looking down to play with lace that frills along her nightgown.

Daemon hums. He refills his cup, takes it with him as he positions himself in the soft plush seat that faces the bed.

“You answer to me now, not him.”

“I know, but he is still my father.” Daella sighs. “You do not know him, what he can be like.”

“I think I’ve made a reasonable assumption.”

Daella does not respond. She knows he knows. Whether he disagrees with him is another question that is currently unanswered. She began playing with the frill of her nightgown again, eyes lingering on her lap, the floor, anything but him.

She can feel it, his gaze, she can almost hear his thoughts. He’s deciding whether he wants to stay or leave. Stays, and he protects her. Leaves, and he abandons her. It feels like an eternity, waiting for him to make up his mind. She hears him lift himself from the seat with a small grunt. She can take her eyes off the floor as she waits for him to make his decision, his shadow coming into frame as he walks towards her. Daella breathes in softly as she feels his hand cup her chin, tilting his head up to look at him.

“What a brave little thing you are, hm.” He whispers, running his thumb along her plump bottom lip. “Do you know how it is done?”

Daella nods, eyes meeting him. She did. Her father had hired a woman from a pleasure house in Volantis before they left for Westeros to instruct the young bride in the "womanly" arts of love. Thankfully the woman had taken pity on her and had only explained how it was done in the kindest way she could.

Daemon is looking down at her, eyes taking in every fraction of her face. Her eyes are lighter than he first remembered them being, her soft cheeks tinged with a light pink blush, lips still rosey with whatever rouge Rhaenyra had applied to her this morning. She is perfect, he thought. He runs his thumb along her lip again, the cut he made earlier in the early process of healing, before softly pushing it into her mouth. Daella's brow furrows slightly in confusion.

“Bībagon.” Daemon instructs. She does as she is told, sucking softly on his thumb. Daella adverts her eyes to the ground, too embarrassed by the action she is doing to look him in the eye. Daemon keeps his eyes trained on her. Her cheeks now a darker pink, her lips glimmering with spit as she sucks his thumb.

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke” He says, using his fingers to tilt her head back up towards him again. Daella opens her eyes, his thumb pressing down on her tongue with just enough pressure to make her gag softly around him. A smirk dances along his lips before pulling away from her.

“Pirtir ilagon.” He instructs once again looming over her. Daella takes a small inhale of breath before allowing her back to hit the bed, legs still dangling off the edge. Her heart pounds in her chest as she waits for his next move. She flinches gently as she feels his hand run along her left thigh, running the expensive lace along his fingers. “Hakogon ziry bē toliot se gundja.”

Daella does as she is told once again, gripping her nightgown at the thighs and starts to pull it up, once halfway up her thighs she leaned up, allowing herself to pull the fabric under her ass and bunching it around her waist. She was bare underneath, the handmaid's Rhaenyra had required to prepare her for this moment, laughed at her when she went to put her underclothes on, giggling as they stated she would not need them. She instinctively begins to cross her legs, wanting to shield herself from him, but his hand catches one of her legs in the moment, pushing it back and wider so she was on full display for him.

“Ñuha dōna riñītsos.” Daemon whispers as his rough hand caresses her thigh that was still gripped in his hand. His hand is removed momentarily to take off his shirt and his hand finds its way back between her legs. His hands ran up and down her thighs, taking his time deciding what he wanted to do next. Daella lies motionless on the bed starting at the ceiling. The maids this morning had whispered all sorts of horrors that can happen in the marriage bed in her ears when the Princess was just far enough away that she would not hear.

It appeared Daemon had made up his mind, Daella letting out a small gasp when she felt his adept fingers slipping between her folds, spreading a slickness that she had not known had gathered there while he pawed her. His large hand moves up to press down on her stomach, making sure that she remains steady. He spreads her folds before dipping one finger into her waiting hole, letting out a pleased grunt at how wet she is for him. Daella’s hands reach to clutch at his arm, letting out a gentle whimper at the feeling of him opening her up.

“Sȳz riña.” He says, leaning over her body, his face coming to meet hers. He is leaning in close, eyes burning into hers, glimmering with mischief. He’s so close that their noses bump together. Daella’s breath hitches as he pumps his finger in and out of her, her back arching slightly and her hips grinding every so softly to meet his hand. It felt good, there was no pain as the handmaids had suggested, only a pleasant pressure that she wanted and needed more off. She moves her head forward to try and kiss him but he pulls away, her lips landing on his jaw.

He inserts another finger. The stretch burns slightly, causing Daella to audibly gasp. Daemon pauses his movements looking at her, the small noise that came from her giving him second thoughts. He begins to slowly remove his soaked fingers, but Daella's chest is heaving as she grabs his arm tighter than before wanting him to stay. So he does, burying his head back into her neck as he curls his fingers, dragging them along apart within her that causes her free hand to lift into his hair and a moan to leave her lips.

She can feel his lips against her shoulder, his slightly parted mouth breathing on her. Her hand runs along his short hair, stroking the silky locks softly. Her other hand finally lets go of the arm that is currently thrusting into her, resting it on his waist, feeling the distorted skin that littered the left side of his body.

Daemon’s thumb moves to her clit, softly rubbing, giving her that extra stimulation that causes the coil in the pit of stomach to tighten. Daella lets out a loud whisper, the hand in his hair clenching the silver strains in her hand pulling gently. Her other hand shoots from his waist, accidentally gripping his still raw shoulder. Daemon hisses at the sension, fingers and thumb working faster, the pain causing him to work faster. The coil within her finally springs free, back arching and toes curling trying to help calm herself down from the sudden burst of pleasure coursing through her.

“Dae-Daem,” Daella squeaks out, unable to finish her words, breathing erratically as Daemon continues to finger her through her orgasm. As he toes uncurl, hand loosening on his locks and back falls back against the bed, coming down from the high, her eyes open and realise her fingers were digging into his raw shoulder. Her hand immediately pulls away from the red skin, eyes widening with worry.

“Sorry, I-” She begins, but Daemon shakes her off, rising to his feet, looming over her once again.

“Shh, I'm fine. Do not worry.” He says as he pulls at his trousers. Daella lifts herself onto her elbows looking at Daemon's hands fiddling with his button. She had been told of the male anatomy, but had yet to see for herself, and was lying if she said she wasn’t curious. Daemon smirked as she watched her eagerly await what was shielded beneath.

He finally undoes the buttons, letting the black cotton drop to the floor and stepping out of them, his cock, thick and hard, bobbing as he does. Daella watches taking it in. She eyes the precum glistening at the tip of his bulbous head, the change of colour from pink tip to this pale veiny shaft, the large balls that hang underneath, nestled between the silver curls of hair. Daemon laughs at her face. It’s not one of lust or fear that he is used to, but sheer fascination.

Daemon says as he kneels on the bed in front of her, Daella wiggling back to ensure he had enough room. She says up on her elbows as she watches him, his hand moving back to her cunt, fingers collecting some of the ever growing wettest on his fingers, before pumping his cock a couple of times with the slicked up hand. Daemon moves forward again, positioning his knees in a way that makes Daella spread her legs a little further, before dragging his cock through her slick pussy, bumping his tip against the bundle of nerves that has her heart pick up once again.

He finally slips himself into her, a guttural moan coming from the back of his throat at the feeling of her warm walls engulfing him. Daella meets his moans as he slowly pushes deeper, with a slight burn of the stretch adding to the pleasure, and eventually, he’s bottoming out inside of her, and Daella’s nails are digging into his back, mindfully keeping them low, afraid of touching his still raw shoulder again.

Daemon thrusts slowly, one of his hands gripping her waist so that the tips of his fingers are digging into her ass. Daella’s mouth is wide open, as is his, lips brushing against one another as the moans come out breathy. His pace is deliberate, wanting to be gentle, but also hit a spot inside her that he knows will never leave her the same, the tip of cock nudging her cervix, making her cry out his name.

“Dārilar- oh gods.” Daemon cuts himself off into a whisper, finally allowing his lips to envelope hers, his hands pulling her hips closer, needing to be deeper in her tight, wet, and warm hole. He feels her walls tighten impossibly around him, and he feels his balls start to tighten along with them. “That’s it, what a perfect little sweetling you are. Taking me so well.”

Daella’s walls flutter at the praise, just on the edge of the coil in her stomach letting go once again. Needing her husband closer, her legs wrap around his waist, the new angle it provides, sending her over the edge, lips locking onto Daemon’s as she does so, muffling the moans that leave her month. Daemon continues to roll his hips, fucking her though her second orgasm of the night, his own high following once her body relaxed, grunting softly has he spills his seed inside her.

Daemon gives Daella a small kiss on the cheek, before slipping his cock from her and lifting himself off the bed.

“You did well.” He says softly, looking down at her. He reaches down to pull her nightdress back down, covering her up once again. Once he has it pulled down, Daella sits up, shuffling herself back to the top of the bed, back against the below. She is still blissed out slightly, but her eyes widen as she notices the streaks of blood on Daemon's cock and in his silver public hair. He hand shooks to pull up her night dress, hand moving to cup her core. She looks down at the milky liquid that leaks from her that is mixed with blood that collected on her fingers.

“It’s normal.” Daemon says he lifts a fabric napkin from the table, wiping her blood and slick from his cock, the blood staining it in light pink. “That’s how they know.”

“Oh!” Daella whispers, noticing the little red stains on the bottom of the bed where she once lay. Daemon walks to the side of the bed, taking the napkin on the clean side and slips it between her legs, wiping gently collecting his seed and blood.

He throws the bloodied napkin on the floor at the bottom of the bed, before reaching for his trousers and pulling them on. He picks up his shirt before turning to Daella who was watching him wide eyed in bed, hand still between her legs.

“Maids will be in to retrieve the sheets in the morning. They will most likely wake you. Get some rest, bath first thing in the morning.” Daemon informs her as he pulls on his shirt. He is leaving her. She wants to beg him to stay, but she knows it is common in Westeros for husband and wife to have different sleeping chambers. She nods at him. He smiles, a tight lipped one, before turning to leave.

“Sȳz bantis, ābrazȳrys”

Authors Note:

Please enjoy these beast of a chapter from me as an apology for it taking so long!

For the masterlist to this series and all my other fics click here!

Tag List: @ajthefujoshi @hangmanscoming @papichulo120627

You can add yourself to my taglist here!

#daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #matt smith #a fire in the flesh #daemon targaryen x original female character #fire in the flesh

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themotherofblood · 11 months

Note

Hello! If applications for the Bloody Baby series are open, can I ask for an evening of stories? They are all together by the fireplace and the baby asks about their past as she is fond of history. And at your discretion, sex during the conversation.

absolutely yes!! I’m gonna do smut on the next one :) on this one and focus on the fluff, mainly because your prompt will be great for answering some questions about our lovely vamp daemyra! What, How, When? Thank you for the request. Also Chanel exists in Modern! Westeros. Do what you will with that info hehe

Vampire!Daemon x fem!reader x Vampire!Rhaenyra

masterlist | bloody baby series | vampire au

Warnings: mentions of murder, anti!green, mentions of genocide and blood (obviously)

You groaned awake, hearing the birds chirp outside and rays of sunshine bleeding in your bedroom. You stretched out your legs, whimpering at the gentle sting that made itsself very apparent. Patches of bandages stuck to your right inner thigh and left jugular. One on your wrist that only stopped bleeding as of yesterday. You shuffled off the bed, the floor under your feet was warm (heated) as you padded your feet over to the bathroom.

Daemon had ordered the attendants clearly, while he does enjoy your figure prancing around in just a shirt, visually your little human body looked much stirring in the pretty dresses Daemon and Rhaenyra had filled in your closet to the brim. At first you would gawk, terrified at all clothes. You doubted even blood donation for money could afford you such labels. Your newest excitement however was realizing the entire collection of Chanel ballet flats just casually laying at the bottom of the shoe shelf. You had with much joy, slipped on the baby pink pair over your white socks and headed out to breakfast.

Their head housekeeper had informed you that they had not returned yet. Rhaenyra and Daemon had headed out to hunt, while they relished the taste of your blood on their tongue. They could only drain you (safely) so many times, leaving a few days to let you recover and replenish your blood before sinking their teeth in once more. Rhaenyra found it mildly discomforting to be around you while she was hungry, a craving is one thing— hunger is death.

You felt like a kidnapped princess stuck in a castle, very much like Beauty and the Beast but Rhaenyra and Daemon were anything but beasts. While there had been no formal rules around the palace, you never ventured around it much. The first few weeks your anxiety tore at your so hard, if you weren’t awake and servicing the two of them or being fed on. You were sleeping, heart heavy and away in a dream world. You wondered often, what they did about the life you came from?

Your halted progression to a university degree, your part time job at the cafè, your mother—you wondered if she tried to cash out your life insurance yet. Your friends, they might have been the only ones a little worried, it felt like a child being grounded, having all your technology away. There was a theatre, they told you about it and yet you were too afraid to touch it. This wasn’t your home.

Once you had very throughly enjoyed your breakfast of eggs on toast, you would have taken a right from the main corridor back to your wing, instead you walked forward toward the east wing. It felt intrusive to do so but your curiousity began eating at you, living in a palace built nearly a thousand years ago. Every trim on the ceiling had a story to tell.

What you stumbled across was a gallery, of small paintings to giant seven foot paintings, over time you had hunch of who Daemon and Rhaenyra were. Their names so prevalent in history, in a world ages ago when this continent was known as Westeros, if the books were true. You pitied them. There was painting right at the end of the corridor, perhaps the biggest one hung. The fine oil painting, aged and masterful.

You could recognize Rhaenyra in it, sat with a swaddled baby in her arms with Daemon stood next to her. Three boys of brown hair, two boys of white. Two dark skinned little girls and a boy stood next to Daemon and a little toddler girl on the floor. Dressed to nines in gold and fine gowns. Their family.

“Curious?” Daemon’s voice boomed from behind you, making you flinch.

You turned to him sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders as he approached you. “That- that’s you, isn’t it?” You asked. Daemon nodded, turning you back to the painting as he held onto your waist before turning your head to kiss your lips.

“That’s a lot of children,” you said as a matter of fact as Daemon resumed his daily need to suckle a bruise onto the crook of neck.

Daemon chuckled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as his nose took a long waft of your scent.

“Are they all yours?” your nosiness had you blurting your thought out. You bit your tongue the second you asked it. He nodded, “Rhaenyra birthed them all?” You eyes widened. “Bloody hell.”

Your horrified face was one of much amusement to Daemon, he knew of how little bloodline sentiments meant in this era. He wasn’t super keen into forcing one to have a child back in 120 AC, neither would he now if he could ever have them again. Your eyes squinted to read the little description etched onto the golden frame.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, Royal Consort Daemon Targaryen and their dragon seeds,”

From what you had read about the ancient great houses, they would rather jump off of cliffs than not come up with macabre titles to do with their house sigils. You giggled, dragonseed. A tad dramatic but that was the beauty and irrationality of history, everything was of honour and blood then it seemed.

“You called your children dragonseed?” There was knowing glint in Daemon’s eyes as he quirked up a brow.

“No—no?” disbelief, pure disbelief.

You shriek as Daemon bent down to throw your body over his shoulder. You knocked at your legs “Daemon I wanna know!”

He carried you all the way upstairs, instead of turning left to your rooms, he carried you to his. He dropped you down by the fire place when Rhaenyra was already sat with a book in her lap. You pouted and Daemon, cheeks full as Daemon dropped a thick blanket down where you sat you sat in already a pile of thick furry blankets.

“What’s going on?” Rhaenyra asked, petting your hair and looking at Daemon in a questioning manner.

“I wanna know if dragons were real,” you looked up at Rhaenyra, hope glimmering all over your eyes, a childish dream come true. She looked to Daemon with an odd expression before pointing at a cabinet by the window.

A temperature controlled cabinet with four eggs each on its five shelves, they were the biggest eggs you had seen. You crawled up to go look at them through the glass, eggs of red, purple, white and green. Mouth gaped upon in shock, immortal royalty was cool but this— you could scream from the excitement bubbling in you chest. A wide grin spread across your face as you turned to look at them.

“Silverwing was real!” You chuckled in shock, leg bouncing as the happiness radiated off of you “you rode dragons!” You pointed at them as you waddled over to settle yourself on Rhaenyra’s lap.

“Do you know which ones?” Daemon asked, the ends of his mouth slightly curled upwards. This is the liveliest they had seen you since the party.

You nodded like a teacher’s pet, answering correctly for a piece of candy. “You rode Syrax,” you curled further into Rhaenyra as she kissed your temple. “And you rode the red wormy thing,” you snapped your fingers in the air to try and remember it’s name.

“Red wormy thing,” Daemon repeated, highly amused that Caraxes’s memory would be watered down to a red wormy dragon from the furious behemoth he was.

“Yeah,” you mellowed, still unable to remember his name “he had a wormy neck and a deviated septum, like me.” you told them as if they wouldn’t know.

You looked to Daemon apologetically “but you already knew that…since you know. You rode him.”

“Caraxes,” he helped you “and I do agree, he was a Wyrm.”

“Damn,” you whispered under your breath “so you just had flying nukes for pets. That’s crazy.”

You settled in with them, still blurting out questions as they came to mind. No history textbook or books you found at libraries had this much details about the subject, the world still counted it’s years from Aegon’s Conquest but they were gods, myths and statues rooted at temples. They were real, tangible blood, you were sitting on one right now.

“If they hatch, what would you do? Over throw the government?” you mused “we could use a Queen, maybe get better healthcare, climate change sanctions, and an extra government holiday.”

This time Rhaenyra chuckled, shaking her head. They had thought of it, though Rhaenyra had given up on any hope of those eggs ever hatching. The last of blood magic destroyed taking down the Night King other than what created their immortality.

“We could go back to Dragonstone, preserve their kind this time around.” Rhaenyra said, pulling the blanket up your shoulders. You hummed as a reply, resting your head on her shoulder.

“Nyra.” You whispered. Rhaenyra hummed in reply. “Has my mother checked in?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes scrunched as she looked to Daemon and then down at you. She shook her head, after leaving a very colourful message on your phone after Rhaenyra had texted as you; about going away on a vacation. There was nothing. As a mother she once was, she never understood the callousness of mothers these days, having children move out of their homes and pay rent.

You closed you eyes, body already heavy from the story filled daze you were in. That and the hearth lulling you, you held no expectation that your mother would mildly care, if Daemon and Rhaenyra were to have killed you. You doubted she would have even noticed.

Just as Rhaenyra and Daemon had just each other, the possibility of you having just them grew each day.

Thank you for reading!! I’m having so much fun with this AU.

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Also lemme know if you wanna be added to a Taglist

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #vampire au #daemyra smut #daemyra vampire au #daemyra x reader #daemyra #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #vampire!daemon #vampire!rhaenyra

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axelsagewrites · 10 months

Note

Hey Sage! If you're taking requests, could i get a Dom! Daemon x poc wife reader, where they have a great relationship, but for some reason (maybe she just wants to tease him) reader is acting like a brat (maybe..she answers him rudely in front of Viserys or Otto) and Daem punishes her. With some spanking, shocking, degradation, marking, aftercare and whatever else you want, please?

Daemon Targaryen*In Charge

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Summary: reader decides to act out and Daemon reminds her who's really in charge (kinky sex occurs)

Word count: 3164

Warnings: Teasing, under table stuff, m receiving oral, hair pulling, p in v sex, nipple play, spanking, degradation, marking/hickeys, bratting, begging etc very kink sex smut 18+ (i think thats all)

A/N at end

Masterlist Here

High Valyrian translations Avy jorrāelan - I love you ñuha qēlos – my star Riñītsos – little girl

When you first arrived in Westeros the court was wary of you to say the least. It was rare enough for them to have the Dornish visit but you had travelled by ship with some of your family and allies from the far depths of Essos. It was all in aid to start trade relations with the silver hair dragon riders across the sea. When you’d first heard of these violet eyed silver haired people holding the dragon’s captive you had imagined them as sickly monsters lurching in the background. Daemon Targaryen was anything but a slimy beast.

Otto Hightower however was another story. To say you weren’t fond of him was an understatement. But during your supposedly temporary stay you managed to bite your tongue. Somehow. It helped that you were able to stare across the great table at Daemon. His long silver hair flowed down his back like the water falls back home. You had expected the lilac eyes to be unsettling but instead their violet hues just drew you in.

Unlike your companions you did not conceal your stares. While others cleared their throats and turned their eyes when Daemon looked lazily at them you stared back, the corners of your lips twitching. It was a silent flirtation, a competition even.

It was one of Daemons favourite things about you. There was a challenge in your eye, the same look caraxes used to give him. “Would you like to see my dragon?” he whispered in your ear, his chest pressed into your back as you both waited to exist the bustling council meeting.

“Only if I get to ride it,” you whispered back, the smirk evident in your voice. This was going to be fun he thought.

When the trade deals were almost over another question arose. What’s to stop one of you from backing out? What was the collateral? How could we trust these foreign friends? “Might I suggest,” Daemon drawled, his voice instantly hushing the bickering between the sides. “a marriage pact? It’s how we usually do these things after all,” he said, eyes flickering over to you.

The Westeros men were all content with the idea however your uncle had other thoughts, “We do not sell our women,” he spat across the table.

“Let’s hear him out uncle,” you whispered to the man, “After all if it’s how the Targaryen’s do it who knows? It might be a halfway decent idea,” you said, eyes glued on Daemon.

It didn’t take long for the decision to be made or for the match to be suggested. When your family rode east you stood to wave them off by Daemons side. It was the first any of them had seen of you both the last three days since you entered your new chambers after your wedding night.

While Daemon made for an excellent husband, showering you with gifts, passionate in the chambers, praising each of your features and keeping up with your wit, the other Westeros men left little to be desired. You knew it would take time to adjust to the new ways, but you hadn’t expected the rules to be so mind numbing.

Daemon was supposedly a rebel among these men but yet even he abodes by rules. Do this do that say this like this not this then otherwise you might as well have tried to eat his baby. Honestly none of the protocol made any sense. You had been in Westeros for a year now and everything with Daemon was perfect; apart from one little thing. You had the audacity to view yourself as an equal. Daemon insisted he valued your opinion and took it deeply to heart, but the other lords were beginning to take issue with your bold opinions.

Despite not wanting to hear your opinions you were still required to attend all council meetings as an ambassador. During one particularly long drawn out one where all the lords did was rattle off their idiotic ideas you began to zone out. Your mind wandered till it landed on the idea of your husband bending you over this table right now. The way his hands would feel as they-

“Are you alright my lady?” Otto Hightower interrupted right before the good part of your fantasy. You looked up, head tilted before nodding and assuring him everything was fine, “I know our talks can be a little bit…out of your area my lady,” he apologised with that stupid fucking grin.

Daemon shot him a deadly glare, “Thank you my lord,” you said with a sicky sweet smile as you placed your hand on Daemons leg. “Perhaps you could explain it for me,” your hand began to move up his thigh beneath the table as you spoke.

“Of course, my lady,” The Hightower smirked as he over explained a simple known fact, all while your hand crept further up Daemons leg. He was used to you trying to push your luck so was doing his best not to react but when your hand suddenly squeezed his crotch he swallowed thickly as his hand shot out to hold your wrist under the table.

Luckily for you no one had noticed. Yet. You squeezed his balls lightly over the fabric of his trousers as Otto drowned on now in deep discussions with Viserys. Daemon tried to move your hand, but it only made your grip tighten. If you hadn’t felt him harden in your hand you might’ve felt bad.

“What say you brother?” Viserys turned to a wordless Daemon who did his best to stutter out his objections. It was the first time Viserys had ever seen him at a lost for a words. You removed your hand silently, placing it back in your lap with a slight smirk as Daemon was finally able to speak properly.

Viserys had the lords vote on the issue. Daemon of course rejected the idea; Otto insisted it was the right choice. It wasn’t. however, 2 of the lords sided with him for some idiotic reason but the other two with Daemon. “You haven’t voted sweet sister,” Viserys said, causing all eyes to turn on you. during your marriage your new brother tried to be sweet and kind though it often came off as clunky and bumbling.

You glanced at Daemon who was glaring down at you when he saw the way your lips dragged up into a slight smirk, “Lord Hightower did make a very interesting proposal,”

“An idiotic proposal,” he cut you off, glaring at the smirking lord across the table, “We both know it will backfire,”

“Do we?” you asked, eyes only on Daemon who glowered down at you.

“We do,”

Your eyes stayed locked, his filled with the fire of a dragon while yours glinted with excitement. The rest of the room was tense as you drew out the moment before turning to Viserys, “I agree with Daemon,” you finally said.

Viserys let out a sigh of relief and nodded, “Okay good well the matter is settled…” he began to drone on when you suddenly felt Daemons fingertips digging into the flesh of your thigh. This was not going to be a short night.

“Care to explain what that little display was all about?” Daemon all but yelled after slamming the door to your chamber shut.

You ignored his yells as you sauntered over to sit at your vanity to remove your jewellery, “What display?” you asked, smirk lingering in your voice as you took out your earrings.

Daemon looked up, letting out a brief dark chuckle before marching over to you, “You know exactly what I mean riñītsos,” his hand shot out to grab your jaw harshly, forcing you to look up at him with a glare, “Are you that much of a whore you wanted me to fuck you in front of those old cunts?”

You took a moment to pause and stare into those rage filled lilac eyes, “Yes,” you finally replied, a smirk still etched on your lips, “It’s all I could think about,” you said, your hands going to his hips, pulling him to stand between your legs, “Fucking me dumb while they all watched,” your fingertips began to run along the edge of his trousers waist line, “I think I’d quite like that,”

“You think so?” Daemon asked, gripping your jaw tighter, “Wanna know what I think?”

“Not really,” you said, trying to pull his arm away but with no success.

Daemon grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand off his arm and pulling you to your feet, “I think I need to teach you are not such a brat,” He said, letting go of your wrist, pushing your head back before releasing you making you stumble back into the table, “Get on the bed,” he said but you didn’t move. Daemons eyes narrowed, “Now,”

“Or what?” you asked, unfazed by the wild stare in his eyes.

He all but growled as he paced over to you, grabbing your hair and forcing you to your knees, “Who said you were in charge?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but wince as his fingers tangled in your locks.

“I did,” you said with a grimace as your knees finally hit the floor, Daemons hand forcing you to look up at him.

Daemon laughed quietly to himself, “You really are a silly little whore then, aren’t you? A little whore who needs to learn” he said as his hands worked his laces, “Remember the word?” he asked as he was almost freed from his trousers, you nodded repeating the safe word you had decided on early into marriage.

When his cock sprang free of his trousers it was already hard and its tip an angry red, precum already coating the tip, “Open,” he said but you refused. That was till Daemon slapped your face causing you to gasp and your mouth to open. He quickly grabbed your face, shoving his thumb in your mouth to keep it open. “Im going to ruin this pretty little mouth of yours,” he said as he began to try pull your mouth open.

Finally, you caved, opening your mouth fully for him, your tongue waiting for his cock, “Look at you,” he said in a tone that made you think all was finally forgiven, for a moment. You gagged lightly when he thrust his cock into your mouth, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue, “Such a pretty little whore,” he said as he began to fuck your face.

You looked up at Daemon through watery lashes as you tried not to gag from his persistent pace. His face had contorted from anger to pleasure as his eyes scrunched shut and groans fell from his lips. His thrusts continued until you tapped his thigh, your throat unable to keep up with his pace any longer.

Daemon pulled out, a trail of saliva and precum dripping from his cock and around your mouth, “Not such a brat now is you,” he said as he moved his hand from your hair to your jaw, cupping it lightly as you regained your breath. “Still think you’re in charge?” he asked and all you could do was shake your head not as you gazed up at him. “Good,” he smirked, “Now strip,” Daemon said stepping back.

You shakily climbed to your feet, your knees aching from the hard floors. Your hands slowly began to work on the laces of your dress. Daemon was tapping his foot quicker the longer it took. Once the dress was lost you pushed it of your shoulders allowing it to pool around your feet, your shift coming off with it. your nipples hardened as the cold chamber air washed over them.

Daemon stepped closer, his hands trailing up your thighs to your hips, squeezing your waist before caressing your breasts, “What are you?” he asked as his fingers trailed gently over your nipples.

“A whore,” you said, gasping when he suddenly squeezed your sensitive buds, “Your whore,” you half moaned as he began to roll the buds between his fingers.

“That’s right,” Daemon said, his hands falling away making you whine, “Now be a good whore and get on the bed, like I told you too,” he said as he began to pull his own clothes off.

You nodded, quickly crossing the room to lay on the soft furs of your bed when you heard Daemon began to tut. You watched his slender frame as he sauntered across the room, his abs toned from his adventures, he truly looked like a dragon as he circled his prey. “I never said lay down,” he corrected. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you went to ask him what he meant but Daemon cut you off, “Hands and knees. Now,”

“But my knees hurt- “

“Im sorry,” Daemon said as he stood at the edge of the bed staring down at where you sat naked on the bed, “Did I fucking ask?”

You whined dramatically as you moved to your hands and knees, Daemon remaining quiet as you did. “Happy?” you asked sarcastically as you lay your cheek against the furs, your ass on display.

Daemon didn’t reply as he moved to kneel behind you, his hands rubbing your ass. His fingers squeezed your hips as Daemon took in the sight. you figured you had gotten off lightly so far but a harsh slap to your left cheek made you gasp. “That’s for not paying attention in council today,” he said, his hand rubbing the area to sooth the red mark.

Another slap rang across the room, “That’s for under the table,” another, “for your little display,” Daemon continued to list off your sins, leaving another slap with each crime he read off. Your ass was stinging by the end of his list, a bright red mark on your cheek.

Daemons hands moved from your ass to your hips, gripping them tightly before one of his hands moved to your shoulder to pull your back against his chest, “Have you learned your lesson?” he whispered, his breath fanning your ear.

“Yes,” you said quietly. One of his hands moved back to one of your sensitive buds while the other went between your legs. “I’ll be good,” You moaned as his fingers began to circle your clit.

“I don’t believe you,” Daemon purred as you felt his hard cock pressing into your ass, “I’m not done with you yet sweet riñītsos,”

Your soft pleads fell on deaf ears as Daemon let go of your sweet spots to shove you into the furs. Within seconds he had grabbed you by your hips to flip you on your back, his fingertips digging into your flesh. Daemons eyes roamed your body, and you took the opportunity to scan his; how his toned chest heaved, the wildness in his eyes, and how his painfully hard his cock looked.

Daemon crawled over your frame, your legs instantly wrapping around his hips as he lined his tip up with your entrance, “You want me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper. He chuckled when all you did was nod, “If you want me to fuck that pretty little hole of yours, you’re going to have to beg better than that,”

“Please,” you whined, your hands moving to hold onto his muscular shoulders, “I need you please just fuck me already I’ll be good I promise,” your whining intensifying as he began to rub his tip up and down your folds, “I’m sorry okay please just fu-fuck,” your begging was interrupted by Daemons sudden thrust, his cock hitting deep inside.

“You’ll be sorry alright,” he grunted between thrusts as he set a relentless pace. His lips feel against the skin of your neck, sucking dark spots into your sensitive skin, “Who do you belong to?” he asked as he moved to your collarbone.

“You,” you moaned as the headboard began to bang against the stone wall, loud creaks sounding through the room, “I’m yours,”

Daemon lent up to look at the series of dark purple marks on your skin, “Mine,” he growled, his hand moving to hold your throat, “My fucking whore,” he said as his hand slipped between your body to rub circles onto your clit which only made your moans increase as a knot began to build in your stomach, “Such a needy little thing,” he grunted, “so desperate for my cock,”

The knot in your stomach tightened as Daemon sped up his pace till his thrust began to hit a certain spot that made shivers go down your spine, your body tightening around his cock. “Please,” you whined as your orgasm threatened to spill over you.

“What’s that?” Daemon asked, “You wanna cum? You think you deserve to cum around my cock?”

“Yes,” your whine echoed through the room, “Please,”

Daemon lent down, placing a harsh kiss to your lips, “Do it then,” he whispered, his forehead pressed to yours.

His words sent tingles down your skin and soon the familiar feeling washed over your body. “Fuck,” he whispered as he felt you tighten around him. Daemon lent up and moved both his hands to your hips, lifting them up and holding them tightly before he lost control and fucked you mercilessly, chasing his own release. It didn’t take him long to spill inside you, squeezing his eyes shut as he came before almost collapsing beside you.

A few moments of silence past as you both regained your breaths, “Are you okay?” Daemon asked, panting as he turned to look at you. his eyes were soft, and a timid smile painted his lips.

“Uh huh,” you nodded yes, still staring at the ceiling seeing stars from crashing so hard.

Daemon rolled onto his side, brushing the hair out of your face, “You’re perfect, you know that right?” he asked, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Let me clean you up,”

“Wait,” you stopped him, holding his wrist gently, “Just lay with me, for a moment,”

“Of course, ñuha qēlos,” My star, he whispered, placing another kiss to your skin, “Whatever you want. Shall I call someone to draw you a bath?”

You nodded lightly as you shuffled into his arms, “Only if you join me,”

“Of course, I will,” Daemon said as his fingers gently stroked your cheek, “Whatever you want,”

You both allowed yourself to get lost in the silence as Daemon continued to press gentle kisses and light strokes to your cheeks. After a few moments you turned to him, “Are you okay?”

“Never better riñītsos,” he whispered back, “I’ll be back in one moment, let me up and I’ll organise that bath,” You allowed him to stand but then suddenly grabbed his wrist, “Are you okay?” Daemon asked, crouching beside you and stroking your hair.

“Avy jorrāelan,” you whispered.

Daemon lent over, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before standing again, “I love you too sweet girl,”

taglist: @clairacassidy @fan-goddess

A/N: okay so i dissapeared for a lot longer than intended lol. i got really bad writers block but im gonna try push thro it bc i do enjoy doing this stuff so this is a reminder to check in with yourself occasionally to try avoid burning out or doing too much at one time

#daemon targaryen smut #daemon targeryan #hotd daemon #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon headcannons #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #game of thrones smut #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader

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flowerandblood · 11 months

Text

Wicked prayers, sweet penances (6)

[modern! priest • Aemond x Strong • female]

[warnings: sex content, domination, religious guilt, incest, fluff]

[description: Aemond, a deeply religious person, enters the seminary, wanting to fight the thoughts, that have been poisoning his mind for years at the sight of his niece. He returns home as a priest, but the desire he has been running away from returns to him again. A story full of incest, sexual tension and religious guilt.]

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

_____

After they confessed their love to each other, their case was already sealed. If either of them thought the other was seeing it as a fling and fun, their doubts were dispelled.

They faced a situation where every solution was bad. They decided that since they are doomed to suffer anyway, they prefer to suffer together and enjoy each other as much as possible.

For some inexplicable reason, this was a relief to Aemond. When he asked her honestly how she felt about everything that was going on between them, she told him that she was terrified, but at the same time she had never gotten up in the morning with such joy before in her life.

She told him, that she thought what she felt for him was worth whatever punishment she would receive. If at first she felt a little ashamed of her behavior, there was no trace of it now.

After that conversation, they started kissing again. Aemond didn't even pull his cock out of her, and after a few minutes he came inside her again, whispering in her ear that he couldn't live without her.

They realized that one mistake of theirs would cost them everything, so they were very careful not to meet in public. His niece did not approach him in church, even though his parish priest knew she was his family and often invited her for tea. She always refused.

Viserys's 70th birthday was approaching, which he organized at home, but grandly and with pomp. He invited his whole family. They both wondered how they should behave around the family. They wrote about it the evening before the event.

Persephone: Maybe it's best if we pretend you're still not talking to me? The sudden warming of the relationship can cause a lot of questions, and yet no one knows that we have been dating since my mother's wedding.

Aemond sighed softly as he stared at the screen of his phone, his back against the wall. He had to admit it sounded reasonable. He was afraid something in his eye would betray him.

He feared Aegon the most. At the wedding, he'd already noticed that he was watching her. He had to be very careful around him and refrain from any kind of glance in her direction.

Hades: You're right, that will be the best solution. Do you think we should say hello at the beginning?

He sent a message, and a moment later his phone showed that he had received a reply.

Persephone: I don't know. We can make it, so that I come to you and say hello, you answer me and we go our separate ways. That's probably the most natural thing to do. Will you stay home tomorrow for the night?

Aemond pursed his lips. He wondered what was on her mind.

Hades: I haven't thought about that yet. Maybe. And you?

Persephone: Me, Luke and Jace are definitely staying, because there won't be anyone to drive, while my mom and Daemon are drinking too. It's already arranged with grandpa.

Aemond had to admit that the idea of spending the night with her was tempting, but he feared they were putting themselves at risk. He thought hard, analyzing everything.

Hades: We'll see how it goes, my love.

***

The next day, Aemond arrived home in the afternoon before the party was scheduled, because his mother had asked him to bring a few things - wine, flowers and a cake ordered especially for the occasion. Even though he was nervous, he was also happy that he would be able to spend the whole day with his niece.

As he entered the house, he saw Jace greeting his mother. They just looked at each other, Jace said a quick "Hello", to which Aemond replied the same. He headed for the kitchen, to put the things Alicent had told him to bring. His mother followed him, thanking him for his sacrifice.

When he entered the room, he saw that his niece, Baela and Helaena, were standing at the counter, talking cheerfully about something. When they saw him, Beala and she fell silent, his sister looking at them uneasily. He tried to keep his usual cold expression, but he didn't seem to be able to hide the twinkle in his eye at the sight of her.

"Hi." She said with an uncertain smile, her gaze warm. Aemond was silent for a moment, looking away so as not to look at her.

"Children, when will you finally start talking to each other?" Alicent asked, looking from him to her, making them both give her a shocked look.

"After all, you were inseparable as children. Forgiveness is very important, Aemond, whatever happened between you two, you should know that." She said clearly impatient with their behavior, which had been going on for years.

His niece shifted uneasily at the counter, suppressing the smile that pushed across her face as she looked at him defiantly. He thought he'd gladly slap her ass for making those faces. He cleared his throat, unpacking the wine onto the counter.

"I know, mom." He said calmly.

"Please, clear it up in front of us. I want everyone to be happy at dinner, and no one to have any misunderstandings or arguments behind their backs." She said, folding her hands in front of her, looking at them expectantly.

Aemond pursed his lips, wondering what he should say, completely taken aback. He saw his niece staring at him in horror, wondering if he would be able to think of anything fast.

After all, he couldn't admit that he hadn't spoken to her all these years, because he had discovered that he had fallen in love with her. He thought for a long moment, but on the outside it looked like he couldn't articulate the thoughts, that were in his head.

"After the accident with Luke, I wanted to take it out on you, for what happened to me. For the fact that it was your brother's fault. I wanted you to choose me over him, and you didn't want to take sides." He said finally, his jaw clenched. He thought, surprised, that it was partly true. He loved her and felt betrayed.

He saw her blink, feeling that he hadn't completely lied. She pursed her lips, looking at him in pain, apparently not realizing until now that he felt that way. She swallowed loudly.

"I… had no idea what to do then. I was furious with Luke, I didn't speak to him, but he was crying so hard. He's my little brother. I couldn't leave him. Or you. But I understand your anger, and I'm sorry that I let you down in some way then." She spoke honestly, with a slightly trembling voice.

Everyone around them looked at them in surprise, wondering what to do next. They didn't know what to do either, they turned away, ashamed. From the side it looked surprisingly natural, as if such a confession left them at a loss as to what to do with themselves. Alicent squeezed her son's arm.

"I'm proud of you two. I hope you're both feeling a little better."

After this short exchange, slightly embarrassed, trying not to look at each other, they helped the rest to set up food and drink. There were two tables in the living room, joined together to form one long table. No one was assigned a seat, everyone could sit wherever they wanted.

Aemond decided to stay away from her as much as possible so as not to tempt himself or her. His niece sat down with Baela and Rhaena, they were chatting cheerfully about something, apparently something related to their University.

Everyone stood up and sang a loud "Happy Birthday" as Viserys entered the room. He already had trouble walking and was practically bald, but fortunately he was under the care of good doctors. He still had many years of life ahead of him, under the care of his devoted wife, who made sure he took his medication on time.

Jubilarian sat down in the middle of the table, next to him sat his wife. Everyone took their seats. The only person who was late was Aegon. Aemond saw his mother lean out, looking anxiously down the corridor.

Half an hour later, the door opened. Aegon entered the house, kicking off his boots, greeting loudly. Aemond squeezed his eye shut, hearing at once that he was drunk. He got up quickly and go out to meet him, to see what condition he was in. He staggered slightly, his eyes amused and misty. He smiled and stretched his arms out wide for a hug.

"Brother! I have returned as the Prodigal Son!" He called out and laughed.

Aemond stared at him in disgust. He prayed for him every day, but deep down he knew it would take a miracle for him to stop drinking. After a while their mother joined them, the voice of conversations from the living room could be heard in the background. She dropped her hands helplessly, shaking her head.

"Aegon. It's your father's birthday. You promised me!" She spoke softly, painfully, not wanting anyone to hear. Aegon shrugged.

"I feel good. I'm in a fantastic mood. I don't understand, where is the problem?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, wanting to enter the room, but his mother stopped him.

"Go upstairs, take a shower, take a quick nap and come downstairs. I'll tell your father you don't feel well." She said quickly. Aegon laughed.

"I said I felt great. Are you deaf or what?" He asked in frustration, yanking her hand away as he went to greet the guests. He congratulated his father loudly on his birthday and started hugging everyone in turn.

When it came time for his niece, he looked at her appreciatively as she stood up to hug him. He hugged her tightly and she laughed, saying it hurt.

"You look beautiful, niece! Are you talking to my stupid brother yet? He's been staring at you the whole wedding party. I think he wants you." He purred softly, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Several people turned to face them, she and Aemond looked at each other in horror. They looked away quickly, red and humiliated. Alicent looked at her son enraged.

"Aegon! What kind of comment was that? What's wrong with you!" She asked, shaking her head.

"What? I know that in your eyes he is holy and I am divine punishment, mother. But the priest also has his needs, right?" He asked, clearly amused by the commotion he had created. Daemon watched him, he was stretched out in his chair.

"Careful now. One more word and we'll go to the kitchen and I'll cut your fucking tongue out." Her stepfather told him, looking at him calmly and menacingly at the same time. Aegon looked at him defiantly.

"He's been in the family for a few months now, and he thinks he's going to be in charge here. You're a guest in my house." He said pointing his finger at him.

"In my house." Viserys said, rising from his seat. "In my home, Aegon. Please, leave. I don't want to see you here tonight. Go to sleep in a brothel or some other place where you'd rather be, than with your family." He said tiredly.

Aegon pursed his lips, pale, furious.

"As you wish, father. I don't give a shit." He said, turning tensely, quickly putting on his shoes and leaving, closing the door with a loud slam.

Aemond felt his heart pounding hard. His mother was talking to him in a reassuring voice, but he was watching his niece, who was shaking all over, crying, Beala hugging her comfortingly. He sat down quickly in his seat, taking a sip of his wine.

He and she looked at each other quickly. He could see, that she was as scared and devastated just as he was. She sat down in her seat, still shivering slightly. He didn't know what was worse - that his brother said it out loud or that what he said was true.

Everyone returned to normal conversation, but the atmosphere was uneasy. Aemond watched as his niece got up, all pale, saying she was going to bed early.

She made her way up the stairs without giving him a single glance. He looked down, thoughtful. He stood up suddenly, his mother gave him a questioning look.

"I'll talk to her." He said calmly. She nodded understandingly and squeezed his arm.

Aemond climbed the stairs. He knew that she occupied the same room as when they were children, and she stayed with them during holidays and weekends. He knocked softly on her door.

There was no response, so he went inside. She jumped up, startled when she saw it was him. Her cheeks were still red from tears, she was crying again. He closed the door behind him, turning the key in the lock.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, scared.

He didn't answer, he just walked over and sat next to her on the bed. He pulled her to him, embracing her tightly. She immediately hugged him, pressing into him like a pillow, and cried into his chest. He stroked her head steadily, neither of them speaking for a long moment.

"You shouldn't be here." She said in a low, weak voice, sniffling. He kissed her hair tenderly at her words, pressing his nose into it.

"I told my mother I'd go talk to you." He said calmly, his thumb stroking her cheek. She looked up at him, their faces millimeters apart. His hand traced over her skin subtly and gently, making her shiver.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked softly, his voice trembling slightly. "Do you want to end it?"

She stared at him in horror, her mouth slightly parted, trembling. She sucked in a breath.

"And you?" She asked softly, her voice breaking slightly.

He looked at her in pain, not knowing what to say. His heart was constricting unpleasantly, he felt a stab in his chest. He had lied to her once before and hadn't seen her in years. He thought he was telling the truth this time.

"No." He said quietly, embarrassed and desperate for his attitude.

He moaned in pleasure, as her lips pressed against his in a greedy, desperate kiss. Their mouths caressed each other fast and hungry, with the wet, loud sound of their saliva.

He looked at her pleadingly, as he saw her quickly undo his pants. He couldn't say no, he needed it as much as she did. He helped her take off her panties.

She rose, straddling him and sat on him, pushed herself onto him slowly. They breathed into each other's mouths, their foreheads pressed together tightly, staring at each other helplessly.

She began to rise and fall on his cock, thrusting him into herself to the end, both of them gasped with delight, feeling this kind of closeness.

She started to move fast and aggressive on him, moaning softly, his hips responding brutally as they fucked, holding their faces together. They both panted quietly, trying not to make any loud noises.

"I love you." He whispered helplessly, looking at her beautiful face, red with tears. He knew it was all his fault. "I love you so much."

His niece kissed him deeply, passionately, squeezing his hair, pressing his face to hers.

"I love you too, uncle." She whispered into his mouth between loud, wet, dirty kisses. Her hips moved fast against him, his cock thrusted deep and hard into her, throbbing and swollen.

They flinched and stopped moving, when they heard someone come upstairs. After a second they heard a knock on the door. His niece wanted to get off him, but he wouldn't let her, holding her tight.

"Everything's all right?" Alicent asked in the hallway, obviously taken aback by the whole situation.

"Yes. We're talking." He said calmly, stroking her buttocks steadily. Her hazy eyes stared at him with horror and admiration at the same time. "Give us a moment."

"Yes... yes, of course." She said calmly. After a moment they heard her footsteps on the stairs.

It wasn't until they were sure she was gone, that Aemond turned her onto her back and began to fuck her with all his strenght, covering her mouth with his own hand.

They fucked like animals and their orgasm was animal too - hard and aggressive, flowing through their entire bodies. They stifled groans of pleasure, writhing beneath each other in fulfillment.

Aemond stared at her, panting softly. He knew that from now on, something would change between them.

"I want you for myself."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @letmeloveyouuuu

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kimi240302 · 1 year

Text

Bad Idea

A/N: As always, a warning. English is not my native language and I use an app to translate my stories into English.

Summary: Y/N hates her uncle Aegon and tries to avoid him. However, he has other plans with his niece and does everything to make her his. Aegon has only forgotten that Y/N is not the innocent little girl everyone believes her to be.

Aegon Targaryen x niece!reader

Words: 3.2k

Main Post / House of Dragon Masterlist

This is the second part to Mind Games

Aegon does not force woman to have sex in this world!!!!!!

18+ I am new to the whole smut writing so please be nice

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" Desire brought them together

love kept them together"

- Me

Before any more questions could be asked, Y/N jumped up. With that, everyone's attention fell back on her. "I forgot that I was going to fly out with my dragon today." Without waiting for anyone's answer, she was gone.

" Is everything okay with you?" Daemon eyed his daughter with a raised eyebrow. Looking up from her breakfast, Y/N blinked several times. " Yes. Why?" Before her mother, who had been watching her daughter the same way, could say anything, the door to the room opened. " Good morning family." Sang Aegon literally. Everyone paused in their actions and looked at Aegon in confusion.

" You know brother, this is breakfast, not dinner?" Aemond watched Aegon sit down next to their mother with a grin and put some food on his plate. " I know dear brother and?" Alicent looked at her son dumbfounded.

" You're usually too drunk to attend." Daemon interfered. Aegon, playfully hurt, put a hand on his chest, " You wound me uncle." The king gave a snort, which Aegon ignored. " In fact, I didn't take any alcohol yesterday, so I thought I would join the family breakfast." " What managed to keep you away from wine uncle?" Jace looked at him with interest. " I discovered something with more flavor." He grinned and glanced unnoticed over his cup at Y/N. She slumped a bit more in her seat, which did not go unnoticed by Aemond.

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It was getting dark, which meant she had been on her little island all day thinking. Aemond also stood up. "What doesn't change Y/N?" "Aemond I will be queen someday and I need someone at my side who can rule seven kingdoms with me. Aegon is not even able to get his own life under control." She took a deep breath." Means no matter what my feelings towards him are, I need to marry someone who can take responsibility soon and it won't be Aegon."

" For someone who didn't want anything from my brother, your teeth sure marked him up pretty good." Rolling her eyes, the young Targaryen continued to stare out over the sea. " I regret showing you my sanctuary." She grabbed a handful of sand and let it slip through her fingers. Aemond sat down beside her.

" What happened? Did Aegon-" Y/N interrupted him. " No. You know better than anyone, he wouldn't be alive." Nodding, he muttered, " If not from your own hand, then from your father's or mine or your mother's. I think the list would be long." Lost in thought, she nodded.

" I don't know why I let it happen Aemond really don't." Y/n was disappointed in herself. Aemond gave a soft thoughtful sound. " Maybe because you like him more than you want to admit?" The younger Targaryen closed her eyes. "Maybe." Aemond looked at her in surprise. " But that doesn't change anything." Y/N stood up and patted the sand off her pants.

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Aemond reached out and grabbed his niece's upper arm as she tried to turn away. He pulled her towards him and exhaled in annoyance. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you won't find anyone who adores you as much as my brother does. Likewise, you won't find anyone who has as much value for you as Aegon." " Not everyone is lucky enough to marry the person they love, like you!" She snapped out of it and literally stomped in the direction of her dragon. " You are right not everyone is that lucky and I know you helped make this possible for me." Confused, Y/N stopped and turned to Aemond. " How do you know that?" Aemond chuckled softly. " I know many things dear niece." He stopped in front of her. "I know that you talked to my father and made it clear to him that Heleana and I really loved each other and so the fate of us had turned. I have the wife I wanted and children with her. You have already given me my future place as your hand, haven't you? With this you allow me to be one of the most powerful men and a good role model for my children." Annoyed, she nodded. Of course Aemond knew that she wanted to make him the queen's hand.

" Then you know I only want the best for you Y/N. Take my advice as your future closest advisor and don't waste the love for my brother. The country needs not only a strengthened regent but also a happy one!" Y/N nodded thoughtfully. " Aemond no matter what I will do. Aegon doesn't want the title of king." " Good thing he is only Consort and not the person who has the say. Otherwise I would never have opened my mouth, but would have looked for you a husband."

Laughing, Y/N boxed Aemond against his shoulder. What this perceived only with a grin.

" Mother will kill me if she catches me now!" It was pitch dark by now. Aemond and Y/N were standing in front of the castle, thinking how to get in without falling into someone's hands.

" Let's take the passage around the back. No one knows that but us and it leads directly to our own respective rooms." Aemond pointed to the back of the castle where the entrance to the tunnel systems was.

In the middle of the many tunnels, Aemond and Y/N had separated because they had to go in different directions. With her hands out to the side, Y/N made her way along the walls. She paused, however, when her right hand accidentally pushed open a door that was slightly open. Y/N's heart quickened. Not knowing exactly whose room she was standing in front of, she was worried that she was about to face her father or mother and get the telling off of her life. But Y/N heard something else.

She felt her whole body tense up. " Why do I have to catch him every time he…." Aegon's voice interrupted her quiet outburst of anger and Y/N's eyes widened at the sight presented to her through the crack of the door.

" Stay down!" Aegon pushed the blonde haired girl's face into his mattress as he thrust into her from behind. The young woman tried to hold on everywhere, but Aegon didn't even really let her breathe or moan out loud.

The Targaryen closed his eyes as the images of his niece came back to him. Sprawled naked before him on her bed, her face twisted in pure pleasure, the feel of her skin under his fingers, and the taste of her. " Y/N!" He moaned freely. After all, the one below him was one of the whores he regularly had come to the castle and he paid her to help his imagination along.

" You can go then." Aegon's voice was cold. It brought the young Targaryen out of her thoughts. Y/N immediately turned around and literally ran into her room.

Startled, Y/N held her breath as she listened to her uncle repeat her name over and over as his movements quickened. The silver-haired girl wanted to turn away, to just leave, but she couldn't tear herself away from the sight of her uncle.

Even if she didn't want to, Y/N couldn't stop her thoughts. She imagined how she would be the woman under Aegon. Which brought back memories of his hands on her naked skin and his tongue exploring her body. With her teeth clenched tightly, her hand went into her pants of its own accord. Slowly her fingers began to circle on her bundle of nerves as Aegon's voice rang out again, moaning her name. This went on for several minutes until Y/N's legs began to shake as Aegon literally screamed her name out loud like a prayer and came inside the woman. Unknowingly, he helped his niece reach her climax at the same time. With a suppressed moan and a guilty conscience, Y/N had to stop herself from falling to the floor of the tunnel.

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Y/N had avoided Aegon like the plague. She had surrounded herself with her studies, resumed her combat training, and locked herself in her study. Where she even slept. Y/N couldn't stand the thought that Aegon was one room over, again screwing someone who wasn't her, but moaning her name in the process.

" You are avoiding me!" Aegon had moved to stand in front of his niece's desk and looked down at her seated form. " Before you complain again, I knocked on the door of your study. You just didn't listen."

At the sound of Aegon's voice, goosebumps formed on Y/N's skin that she neither wanted nor could keep down. She closed her eyes for a moment to get her breathing under control.

Opening her eyes and looking stubbornly at the parchment in front of her again, she tried to ignore his burning gaze. " No, I just don't have time for you." Aegon chuckled quietly. " What are you doing here Aegon?" Her uncle leaned down, propped both palms on the massive desk and tilted his head.

" To see if my favorite niece is still alive. You've been in here for days." The silver-haired Targaryen looked up to reply, but that was her downfall. When her eyes fell on his lips and the hungry expression in his eyes, her body tensed again.

With a quick movement, she stood up, turned away from him, and stood with her back to Aegon, at one of the many windows.

Her uncle followed hers and stood right behind her. Aegon placed one arm against the wall next to the window, the other on her hip. His head buried in her open hair, where he breathed in her smelling of roses. " How long are we going to do this stupid back and forth game?" The hand that was on Y/N's hip slowly moved up her back until it reached the hair at the nape of her neck. There Aegon brushed Y/N's hair out of the way, put his hand back on her hip and let his lips meet the now exposed skin. Y/N moaned out as Aegon applied more pressure to her hip, pressing his body closer to hers. Her hands went to the windowsill in front of her where she tried to dig in. She felt Aegon applying more pressure with his hips with each additional kiss on her skin. Y/N could feel his cock getting harder and harder.

" Aegon!" Y/N turned to him. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away from her a bit. With an annoyed sigh, he let go of her. But before Aegon could say anything his niece interrupted him. " I will not sleep with you Aegon!" " Why not, you want it too?!" " Because I'm not one of your sluts for one night! Even if you like to pretend that they are me." She didn't want to say the last, but Y/N couldn't stop it anymore. Aegon's head cocked to the side. " Where from?" " Does it matter?" " Y/N, first of all I want more from you than just one night and…" " What exactly do you want Aegon?!" Her uncle's hand tightened on the wall next to her. " You as my wife! Even though I keep finding that you drive me crazy!"

Surprised, she looked at him. " What?" " You heard me right. I want to marry you." "With me comes the throne you hate so much." Amused, Aegon expelled air from his lungs. " You sit on the throne as queen and I serve the queen as her devoted husband. My butt will never feel the throne, unless you want to ride me on it. I would have no objection to that then." Annoyed, Y/N looked at him.

Aegon looked deep into his niece's eyes, "Iksan aōhon se nyke va moriot emagon issare, ao sepār emagon naejot finally mazōregon nyke hae bona (I am yours and I always have been, you just have to finally accept me as that.)" There was a brief silence and Aegon feared Y/N would send him out. But she leaned towards him, his gaze fell on her lips and as his niece closed the last few inches between them, he kept his eyes open for a few more seconds to look at her closing eyelids and to be exactly sure. That if he closed his eyes, she would not simply disappear.

Y/N wrapped her arms around her uncle's neck and pulled him even closer. Aegon meanwhile placed both hands on her hips and squeezed gently. He would wait to see how far Y/N would go. What surprised Aegon even more then were the next words Y/N spoke.

"Jaelan ao uncle ( I want you uncle)!" Murmured Y/N without opening her eyes after they broke away from each other for air. She nipped at Aegon's lower lip, then opened her eyes after all to see his reaction, blinking innocently at him through her eyelashes.

Aegon looked down at his niece, searching for doubt and uncertainty in her gaze. But was confronted with his niece's almost burning lilac eyes. Tightening his grip on her hips, he pushed her backward against the wall and let his lips slam down on hers.

"Before we go any further…", Y/N squeezed harder with both hands. Aegon got wide-eyed and wanted to protest, which turned into a moan. " No more sluts. I'm the only woman in your bed or I'll make sure you won't be able to bed anyone anymore. Do you understand?!" Aegon just nodded and tried to move his hips faster as his hands buried themselves in Y/N dress. His head lowered to her chest as his moans grew louder. She took her hand away from his cock and pulled it out of his pants. The hand on his neck squeezed a little tighter. " I asked you a question Aegon!" Swallowing he looked at his niece again. Aegon wondered when he had lost control and Y/N had taken it over. But if he was to be honest with himself, he enjoyed it. " You are the only woman in my bed and in my life… My Queen."

Aegon lifted his niece by her thighs and carried her to her desk. Without thinking twice, he threw everything down and seated her on it. Immediately she spread her legs to let him between them.

" Tell me to stop, I'll do it and we'll wait until the wedding night…" Laughing, Y/N looked at him. One of her hands moved from his shoulders , right into his pants and grabbed his now hard cock. Slowly she started moving her hand up and down. Aegon almost choked on his own spit as he groaned in surprise.

" I thought you were always the innocent one of us all." His voice was no more than a whisper as he began to thrust his hips towards Y/N. Grinning, she shook her head. Her free hand went to Aegon's neck and squeezed a little. Immediately her uncle moaned loudly, which only increased Y/N's grin. For she knew right then that she had her uncle at her mercy.

Y/N's lips touched his again and her hands started to unbutton his top, which ended up with his pants in some corner of the room. Aegon grabbed Y/N by the waist and lifted her off the desk. Surprised, she cried out. " Aegon, what are you doing?" He turned her around and began untying the strings that held her dress in place.

Every inch of newly exposed bare skin, at her back he blessed with a loving kiss. Groaning, Y/N stretched her back and propped herself against her desk. When Aegon had worked his way through the many layers of Y/N's clothing and she stood naked before him, he turned her around by your shoulders. Again he let his gaze slide over her body. Aegon had to grin, because he just realized that this body would be his for the rest of his life. His to touch, his to admire.

Y/N looked closely at her uncle, placed her hand on his neck and pulled him to her again. Aegon bent gently down, placed his hands on his lover's thigh a repeated time and lifted her up. As he did so, they both moaned into the kiss. Aegon turned to face the couch and sat down with Y/N. Looking down at him from above, she grinned. " So you like it when the woman is in control?" Y/N put her hand around his neck again and squeezed. Aegon moaned as his hips moved up and hit Y/N's now wet pussy. Barely noticeable, she flinched and moaned out. " Only you my queen!"

Y/N lowered her lips to his. Ran her fingernails of her free hand over the skin on his chest, all the way down between the two's bodies. Aegon's grip on her hips grew stronger and she was sure in the morning his handprints could be seen. She grabbed her uncle's cock and held it tightly so she could lower herself onto him.

Aegon let go of her lips and moved to her neck to her breasts, where he took one nipple in his mouth and sucked on it while one hand massaged the other breast.

" Aegon!" Y/N had settled completely on top of him. He released her breasts and looked at her with lust in his eyes. " I like the way my name falls from your lips." Y/N rolled her eyes and began to slowly move up and down. Aegon's hands again found hold on her hips where he helped her find the right rhythm. His lips quickly found their place back on Y/N's breasts as he moaned her name over and over.

The silver-haired Targaryen picked up her pace, burying her hands in her uncle's hair as she did so. She pulled on them so that Aegon had to look at her again. Their lips met again.

" Who do you belong to?" Y/N's grip tightened in Aegon's hair and her gaze intensified. Aegon moaned out and noticed that his cock got even harder and started to twitch slightly. Which caused Y/N's walls to tighten around him. " Only to my queen! Only you!" Y/N sped up even more and Aegon tried everything not to come immediately.

The young Targaryen leaned forward to his ear. " My good boy!" Aegon groaned loudly and arched towards her. He knew he should be embarrassed, but he didn't want to hear anything but just that. So he nodded and pulled her to him for another kiss. His fingers placed Aegon against her bundle of nerves and massaged it.

" By the gods… Aegon right there!" He intensified the pressure and quickened his pace. " Aegon I…" He just nodded and noticed how they both climaxed together.

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

Exhausted, Y/N let herself sink against Aegon's body. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss on her forehead. His cock was still deep inside his niece, but neither of them wanted to move right now.

" What else did I want to tell you dear niece." She whimpered slightly. " What's next?" " It is still not proper to watch others, especially not through a crack in a secret door." Aegon immediately noticed how Y/N tensed. Which elicited another groan from him and her. Y/N rose slightly to look at Aegon. When she saw his self-satisfied grin, she knew she had to do something about it. Again she began to move her hips painfully slowly and came close to her uncle. " It's also not proper to moan another woman's name and try to copy her look!" Aegon was about to say something, but Y/N grabbed his neck with one hand and his hair with the other. " I think I still have to teach you that!"

A/N: what do you think of the story?

I'm about to do a series for AemondxreaderxAegon, if you want to be tagged feel free to write me. Otherwise I wanted to open my request, so if you want a story or just have ideas. I have an open ear

@tvrgvryen @dreamtogether2000

@afro-hispwriter @lili-flower03 @solacestyles

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x oc #aemond hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #hotd smut #house of the dragon headcanons #house of the dragon x reader #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower

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pessimisticpigeonsworld · 1 month

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In your opinion, what is rhaenyra's best relationship (love relationship) ? Cole, harwin, leanor or daemon?

So I'm a bit biased in this question anon. I'm a diehard daemyra shipper, so my answer is going to be Daemon lmao. I will try to defend my position though.

Criston Cole wasn't a very good relationship, both logistically and in practice. Rhaenyra may have been attracted to him, but I think she enjoyed his company in more of a friendly light. If she had not been drunk, I don't think she ever would have slept with him. She valued him, definitely, but she wasn't interested in an actual romantic relationship, which is understandable. In the book, if the two did end up having sex, it was definitely a grooming situation, since Cole was her sworn shield since Rhaenyra was eight.

With Harwin, I don't doubt that there was affection if not love there. The two had had a sexual relationship for almost ten years by the time of his death. However, I think it was born out of necessity. Rhaenyra needed heirs and Laenor couldn't give them to her. Harwin was a willing partner, who she could trust to not betray her. I like Harwin, but I don't believe this was the most fulfilling relationship for Rhaenyra. She was still restless and desired something other than what she had. In the book, we know even less about their relationship, but I think it may have been similar to the show's portrayal.

Laenor was definitely not a true romantic partner. The two may have had sex in the show, but their relationship was more of a co-parenting friendship. Neither of them wanted to be married, but they both respected each other and wanted happiness for the other. I really liked their friendship from what we saw in the show (even though I don't like how they changed Laenor's death), but yeah, it wasn't romantic. Same with the book, they were purely platonic, and it's not even confirmed that they slept together.

As for Daemon, I think it's a little unfair that the most we get to see of their relationship is it's most tumultuous time. From the snippets we see of it before the Greens usurped Rhaenyra, they were both very happy. In this world of magic and dragon bonds, I kind of believe in soulmates, so that's how I interpreted their relationship. Rhaenyra seemed the most at peace during this marriage before the war. As for what we see in episode ten, I think part of that was OOC, namely the choking scene. Even the actors were confused by that, and I think it was written purely because Hess has this deep dislike of Daemon for some reason.

In the book, Daemon and Rhaenyra have more time together pre-war, ten years to the show's six. The two of them are extremely compatible and support each other. Daemon was written by GRRM to be Rhaenyra's husband and one of his favorite parts of Daemon's character is his love for Rhaenyra. Their relationship during the war starts out strong, both of them agreeing to seek out peaceful surrender from the Greens before going to war. Daemon sends out B&C to avenge Luke in major part because of how his death hurt Rhaenyra. It does fall apart, mostly due to the stress of losing so many children and their prolonged separation. However, Daemon's final act is killing the biggest threat to Rhaenyra's troops in a final act of devotion to her.

So yeah, anon, I'm going with Daemon. I know there are other interpretations of their relationship, but this is mine.

#rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemyra #house of the dragon #asoiaf #criston cole #harwin strong #laenor velaryon

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emaistome · 5 months

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Many people consider that Alicent Hightower as a character doesn’t have agency, calling out a supposed misogyny from the show runners. At the same time, they scrutinize and vilify everything she does and considers her as the most morally corrupted character in the entire show while men like Otto, Corlys, Viserys, Daemon and Aegon do things that Alicent wouldn’t even Imagine doing. So my question for today is who are the real misogynists?

Alicent Hightower is definitely not the most consistent character of House of the Dragon, consequently she is the most hated, but on the other side, and she is the most complex among the female ones to a point where it is often very difficult to understand her. But why is it so hard to understand her motives?

Alicent in the book

My first answer would be that it’s due to the huge differences between her characterization in the source material, Fire and Blood, and the TV series adaptation. In Fire and Blood, Alicent married Viserys at the age of 18 and likely seduced him because he was a puppet, while on the other side Rhaenyra was 8. When Alicent gave three sons to Viserys and he decided to still keep Rhaenyra as heir, her somewhat amicable relationship with Rhaenyra vanished, instead she started resenting Rhaenyra, and it never stopped. When Rhaenyra became old enough to get married Alicent proposed her first born son Aegon as it was the tradition in House Targaryen to marry brother to sister, but Viserys refused, stating that Alicent only wanted her blood on the throne. Their relationship became even sourer, to a point were Alicent demanded the eye of Lucerys Velaryon, in exchange for that of her son Aemond who lost his eye to the same Lucerys Velaryon, because he called Lucerys a bastard. In defense of her son Rhaenyra asked to torture Aemond in order to know why he called him a bastard. But in the end Viserys ordered that Rhaenyra leaves Kings Landing after that incident, and married Aegon and Heleana, his oldest children by Alicent to each other.

When Viserys died, Alicent let Viserys’s body rot for days and took an active part in the usurpation of the throne, stating that Rhaenyra’s sons were bastards, and that her son was the rightfull heir to the Iron Throne. Criston Cole found a reluctant Aegon and convinced him to usurp the throne, he crowned him, while Alicent placed her own crown on Helaena’s head. She also convinced Aegon to try to make peace with Rhaenyra instead of going to war. The most widely spread interpretation of Alicent in Fire in Blood is that she was a stereotypical evil, selfish, manipulative and self-serving stepmother, and Rhaenyra was her total victim. In the manner of Lady Tremaine and Cindrella.

Alicent in the Series

In the Show, Alicent was aged down to 14 when she married Viserys and this marriage caused her to lose her friendship with Rhaenyra who was aged up, to also be 14, because Rhaenyra was already the heir and Alicent would just bring other claimants to her throne. Alicent didn’t love the king and married him only for duty, she supported her husband who was a decaying man, had children and sex with him, even if she never wanted it. Alicent actively supported Rhaenyra as queen, until Rhaenyra lied about her virginity, and Alicent was convinced to prepare Aegon to rule by Otto otherwise her children would simply die. Years after, Rhaenyra made bastards and proposed Alicent to marry her daughter to the oldest one of them, but Alicent refused, and married Aegon to her daughter instead. Alicent and the people who supported her made Kings Landing a hell to Rhaenyra, enough for her to leave Kings Landing and hide at Dragonstone. Alicent had strained relationships with Aegon and Helaena, but everything with Aemond seemed to be fine, until he lost his eye to Lucerys Velaryon, for calling him a bastard. Rhaenyra asked to torture Aemond to learn where he heard of the bastard allegations and Alicent claimed one of Lucerys’s eyes in payment for that of Aemond. When Viserys refused, she lashed out asking if all the things that she had been doing for House Targayen for years had only been free labour, and Rhaenyra told her that she went too far, but she slashed Rhaenyra in the arm.

Years after this incident, Alicent ruled in the place of Viserys because he was sick, Aemond became a brilliant fighter, while Aegon was a sex offender, and she hid it for him by paying his victims. With her allies she tried to take Driftmark from Lucerys Velaryon, in favor of Vaemond, Corlys’s brother, this tentative was prevented only because Viserys miraculously rose up from bed to defend Rhaenyra. Later that day Alicent and Rhaenyra reconciled after Rhaenyra showed gratitude for all the years she spent taking care of Viserys, and Viserys made a speech about how he loved all of his family.

Viserys died in the same night and Alicent misinterpreted his last words and thought that he wanted Aegon to be named king. When Alicent went to the Small Council she realized that her father was planning to put Aegon on the throne without her, and wanted Rhaenyra to be dead. Alicent took control of the coup and ensured power over Aegon trying to convince him to not kill Rhaenyra and send peace terms instead.

Alicent and Cercei

Many people would say that she was only a helpless victim with no agency in the show, while blaming her for everything that happened. Looking at Alicent in the book, it is easy to assign her a personality similar to that of Cercei Lannister. She hated a young girl, and wanted to usurp a throne, she was a bitter queen consort and its pretty much everything. But the parallel between Alicent and Cercei is more subtle in the show, because they both suffered from misogyny and ended up oppressing women around them in the same way that they were themselves oppressed. Tywin made Cercei feel inferior due to her gender, and married her to a violent misogynistic man, and Cercei did the same to Sansa. Alicent on the other side married Viserys for duty, and had non-consensual sex with him, and children that she never wanted, in return Alicent did the same to her daughter Helaena by marriying her to Aegon who didn’t love her and is also a sex offender. Both ended up upholding the feudal system in the exact same way that it made them each unhappy and bitter. And in Alicent’s case it’s worse because she did it to her own daughter whom she loves.

Alicent and Sansa Stark

People still claim that she has no agency, and compare her to Sansa Stark. However, Alicent and Sansa are hated for absolutely opposite reasons, but both are for sure given the responsibility of things that are simply out of their reach. Just like Sansa Alicent was an idealist when she was younger. But unlike Sansa, Alicent was aware of the world around her and most of the time she knew the consequences of her actions. Alicent knew that if she married Viserys she would essentially betray Rhaenyra, but she did because that’s what her family wanted from her. Alicent knew the consequences of supporting Rhaenyra after the brothel affair but she decided to support her because she was her friend after all. Unlike Sansa, Alicent did got a bit of autonomy, she sat in small council for meetings, took care of Viserys and, married her children to each other, she made Rhaenyra flee King’s Landing, almost took one of Rhaenyra’s biggest allies away from her, took control of the coup from Otto. And on top of that she raised three children almost like she was a single mother. While Sansa, so far in the books is a prisoner who slowly learns about the world around her. People complain about Alicent having no agency while there are a couple of things that would have been different if it was true. Like the betrothal between Jacerys and Helaena would have made Helaena a prisoner in Rhaenyra’s side, and she is partly responsible for the way her children ended up being, considering her parenting style. I mean Aegon didn’t even want to be king. So Alicent is definitely not a silent character in the show. And her actions are definitely not without intent and consequences. I think that the readers of Fire and Blood refuse to admit that even in the book Alicent endured her marriage to Viserys like a convict endures treadmill simply because Viserys refused to name Aegon heir, putting her children and her in real danger. Thus they come up with absolute garbage think pieces as Alicent had a happy marriage with Viserys, or that Viserys loved Alicent, or that Alicent had a lot of agency despite the fact that she only wanted one thing, which was the right of every noble woman at the time but never getting it.

Alicent and Margaery Tyrell

The book version of Alicent Hightower is similar to one character in the A song of Ice And Fire universe and it’s not Cercei, it’s Margaery Tyrell. Alicent and Margaery Tyrell have in common their position in the stories as girls who had to seduce kings in order to become queens and advance their positions. People in their entourage can see them as evil women who are reaching for power, like Cercei saw Margaery as an opportunist. In the show we have the point of view of Alicent, but in the book we have no idea of what she thinks of her marriage to Viserys, we only can project things into her and we know that she turned bitter once everything went wrong and committed usurpation. And we have no idea of how Margaery Tyrell feels about her situation. The book version of Alicent simply seemed to go along with everything that would have benefitted her family, as she was probably groomed to behave that way, just like probably Margaery Tyrell. But this works only for Alicent as she is presented in Fire and blood.

Alicent Hightower and Catelyn Tully

But the way Alicent treated Rhaenyrain the book, even if we don’t have precise informations about it made many people think that Alicent was a kind of diluted version of Cercei. But when it comes to cruelty and selfishness Alicent and Cercei simply don’t play in the same league. So the most likely answer is definitely Catelyn. Because Catelyn hated Jon for the same reasons Alicent started antagonizing Rhaenyra. Both Jon and Rhaenyra were threats to Catelyn and Alicent’s children claim to their father’s seats. Jon is the bastard of Catelyn's husband, and he might challenge her children’s rights to their father’s seat. On the other side Viserys named Rhaenyra heir, when Aegon, had a claim, that every Targaryen ruler up holded, in line with thousands of years of Andal customers, and the ruling of 101.

Most people don’t make the link because Jon is a boy and Rhaenyra a girl.

Both Catelyn and Alicent have serious historical events to justify their fears, mainly the Blackfire Rebellions and the succession crisis of 101.

Both Catelyn and Alicent don’t hate the children for who they are and out of pure spite, but because of the danger that they represent. Alicent had a good relationship with Rhaenyra, until she realized that Rhaenyra was becoming a threat to her children’s claim. So within a medieval context you can understand how the presence of Jon in Winterfell and keeping Rhaenyra as heir can be seen by their stepmothers as slights.

Alicent Hightower and the human heart in conflict within itself

In the show it wasn’t the same thing. Alicent was in fact the character who was confronted to dilemmas the most throughout the series. From the beginning she had to choose between her family, that was her duty and Rhaenyra who was the only friend she had, and the most beautiful thing that ever happened in her life, and she had to make the choice multiple times over the course of the season, it became even more difficult when she had children and those children, especially Aegon becomes everything she will ever achieve in her life, because they were everything feudality permitted her to be. So it’s weird to admit that Alicent in the book was that much of a great character when she’s just an ambitious woman, with understandable motivations.

Why the evil stepmother trope doesn’t work

I don’t have much struggles with the show changing this character and erasing the evil stepmother side of Alicent, because it brings nothing good to the story, and the themes of the show. The dance of the Dragon was a situation showing how a feudal system would prefer to destroy itself instead of letting a woman get power, and somehow the antagonist was another woman, the story feels like it was making Alicent responsible for all the time the Targaryen messed up with their own succession laws, and made the most misogynistic choice every time they had to choose a ruler. So by presenting Alicent as the head of the coup, the story does not only present the antithesis of what it’s trying to tell, which is that misogynistic men don’t like to be governed by women. It also presents Rhaenyra and Alicent as rivals, who were both vying for the attention of people at court. When in fact Rhaenyra had always been loved by everyone, and had an okay relationship with her, until Alicent had other viable heir for the Iron Throne. This trope also blames women for not being perfect victims, like everyone does to Alicent. She shouldn’t be criticizing the Strong boys and calling them bastards as if she was the one responsible of their existence. She shouldn’t slash Rhaenyra even though Rhaenyra asked to torture her son, she should let her daughter marry a bastard even if it would be dangerous and so on. In fact some people completely erase the real social context that inspired the series and the well presestablished lore within the story. Because it serves the demonization of Alicent.

Lastly this misogynistic trope had been used quite a few times in the A Song of Ice and Fire universe with Catelyn, Cercei, and Lysa, and it became redundant. People who miss this characterization of Alicent don’t care about Alicent as a character, because it simply offers less room for depth. They also don’t care about women’s rights, they care about Rhaenyra being Alicent’s helpless victim in the book. And it not as interesting as the friendship between Alicent and Rhaenyra.

Conclusion

Some of the readers of Fire and Blood literally erases all the cultural bias that the Westerosi society has against women, especially in relation to power in order to make Alicent more of a villain. It is not far fetched assume that given how the hierarchy of Westeros works the power of women were greatly reduced in comparison to what we see in the pages of the dance.

So people who constantly complain about Alicent were the same who hated her and never really cared about her agency in the book because she was likely no more than a very well groomed girl for the service of her family, and how realistic it looked. But only about how much pain she could bring to Rhaenyra. Complaining that she should have been a copy of Cercei, when the character in the show had simply more layers of tragedy, and is more fleshed out.

While in the book Alicent is only an ambitious woman who wanted power in the show she is a woman who tried her best to do what she considered as good thing in a system that had always been oppressive towards women. And when it didn’t work out like the system told her it would be, she turned bitter. Alicent has similarities with Cercei in the way that they uphold the system that caused them the most harm in order to survive, and just like Sansa she is taken responsible for things she doesn’t control, but she had much more agency than Sansa who was a captive while Alicent was a queen. She had similarities with Margaery because they were in a similar position as women who had to seduce kings to gain power. Lastly the bad treatment Rhaenyra received from her is a like to that of Jon by Catelyn Tully. However Alicent is different from them all because she despite perceiving herself as self-righteous and dutiful, she ended up hurting the people she loves the most, her children, and Rhaenyra, and I know that a lot of you might hate it but she is also a hypocrite, as many religious people often are. And I understand why it happened. Alicent in the show is simply better than Alicent in the book, because they showed us how women can be brainwashed by the system they live in, instead of the misogynistic tale of the woman who was overreaching for power and destroyed an entire country, in the process.

#alicent fanart #alicent hightower #team green #aegonii #Viserys #criston cole #alicent x criston #cercei Lannister #sansa stark #margaery tyrell #catelyn tully #evil stepmother

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 4 months

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A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 14

Chapter 13

Ciri laid in the tub, steam rising from the water, which worked wonders on her aching muscles. The water itself was scented with special oils which were meant to help her relax, but given the situation she was in right now, relaxing was nearly impossible right now.

After the young girl had disclosed to the king, prince, princess, and small council who she really was, there was silence followed by a short uproar by the council.

Some had questioned if Ciri's claim was true, and thought her as just some common girl in rags, others believed she was who she said she was, but then became concerned if word got out that the royal family was now hosting Ciri when there were people out there who were looking for her.

Viserys luckily shut down the commotion with a single word. He ordered the council out of the throne room and had you, Ciri, and Aemma shown out to your rooms. Daemon stayed behind, mostly likely to get scolded by his brother, and Daemon meanwhile would try and persuade Viserys to proclaim Aemma true born so she could bare the Targaryen name.

As soon as Ciri was shown to her room, the servants came later and prepared her a bath. Despite being in a foreign land, this aspect of life was still familiar to the girl.

In the present, Ciri laid in the tub, grateful that she was able to get cleaned. She fully submerged herself into the water and stayed there until the need to air was too great. She popped her head up to the surface, taking in a deep breath before leaning back.

She heard the doors open, but she didn't think nothing of it, assuming it was the servants coming in to bring extra towels.

"Princess Cirilla?" Ciri flinched, hearing that voice call her name. She recognized it to be Rhaenyra, "May I come in?"

Ciri thinks about it for a moment before making her answer, "I guess that would be okay." Ciri wasn't all that shy about being naked in front of others of the same sex, and even if she was, the water was blurred enough to shield her from view.

Rhaenyra walks in, a plate of fruit in hand, "the servants were bringing this when I decided to visit," she explains, taking a grape and popping it into her mouth before placing the plate at the table by the tub.

"Thank you," Ciri nods, reaching to take some fruit herself. There was some awkward silence after that. Ciri was new to this whole place; she didn't know what to do or what to say. She must've made an impression though if the king's daughter wanted to come visit her at this time of day.

"I uh, had to wait for the water to cool a bit before I got in," Ciri admits, "do they always make the bath water this scalding hot?" "Force of habit I'm afraid?" Rhaenyra admits, "dragons prefer heat."

"I'm not a dragon," Ciri mutters, more to herself, though Rhaenyra heard it, "I'm a lion cub."

"You grandmother is Queen Calanthe, right?" Rhaenyra asks, "the Lioness of Cintra?" "Yes she...was," Ciri nods, sadness in her voice from re-living that particular memory. "Oh, I...I'm sorry, " Rhaenyra says when she takes notice, "I didn't know. I heard what happened in Cintra...with Nilfgaard...but I didn't know how bad it was."

"My grandfather died in the battlefield," Ciri explains, "my grandmother died during the siege; she was already gravely injured from fighting during the initial battle-" "You grandmother fought?" Rhaenyra asked, "she wore armor and everything? Carrying a sword?"

"She did," Ciri nods, "She could wield sword as well as any man. Very few men actually ever bested her in combat." Rhaenyra smiled to that, "I wish I could learn to wield a sword. My father won't allow it. I don't know why, my forebear Aegon the Conqueror, his wives were warriors themselves; they were skilled sword fighters in their own right."

"It sounds like you admire my grandmother," Ciri notices.

"I'd like to think of her as my inspiration," Rhaenyra admits, "for when I become queen."

Ciri looked at the Targaryen princess in confusion, "my father named me Heir to the Iron Throne months back," Rhaenyra explains, "it happened shortly after my mother passed." "I'm sorry to hear that," Ciri says, "I never got to know my own mother, she died when I was still a babe. You must miss her dearly." "Yeah, I still do," Rhaenyra nods, "it hasn't been easy, even less after my father decided to marry my friend."

"Oh...so the woman that was next to your father was..." "Alicent Hightower."

Ciri nods; she had taken notice there was tension between those two back in the throne room earlier. At first, she would've chalked it up to tension that came between a girl and her new stepmother, but she didn't know those two were friends before that. It must be quite an awkward situation.

"Do you think, you'll still be heir, even if the new queen ends producing male heirs?" "I will be," Rhaenyra insists, "my father swore that I would, no matter what."

"Is there another reason you came to visit?" Ciri asks, "while I'm bathing of all things?" Rhaenyra couldn't help but laugh a little. "Well," the Targaryen princess answers, "since you'll be staying with us for the time being, I was hoping we could be friends."

Ciri regarded Rhaenyra with intrigue; the silver blonde princess was a few years older than her, and despite how she felt about the princess's uncle, there seemed to be a kindred spirit among the two.

And even if she had you, Ciri knew she was going to need a friend who knew this place if she was to survive and protect Aemma. "I would be honored to be your friend, princess," Ciri answers, "assuming His Grace allows me to stay."

Rhaenyra smiled at that, "if he doesn't, I'll change his mind. I don't imagine my father would be callous enough to toss you back to the wolves."

----------meanwhile in the small council chamber-------

"With all due respect, your Grace, this girl cannot be allowed to stay here any longer then she needs," Otto states.

Since the start of the meeting, the small council had been bickering amongst one another about little Ciri remain a guest under the king's roof.

"So you would have me cast this young girl out," Viserys counters, "thrown back to the place she was held captive in perhaps?"

"Of course not," Otto says, "but she certainly not stay here."

"She is the princess of Cintra," Lyonel Strong speaks up, "If the tales in the Continent are to be believed, she was the sole survivor of the siege by the armies of Nilfgaard. To survive that along with being held captive by a pack of mutants, she's been through a lot."

"Armies that are still looking for this girl as we speak," Corlys adds.

"What could they possibly want with the likes of her?" Mellos frowns. "That...is not known," Corlys admits, "but since her grandmother had reportedly perished in the siege that makes princess Cirilla next in line to inherited the Cintran throne. One could only assume Nilfgaard means to capture her so as to further secure a claim to those lands."

"All the more reason that this princess must be sent away," Otto says, "if foreign powers across the sea discover we harbor their highly sought after treasure, they may have cause to lay siege to King's Landing."

"You speak of the girl as if she were an object to possess, not some girl who's probably been through more then any of us could ever imagine," Corlys argues.

"She is a pawn in a foreign game we have no business getting involved in," Otto argues back, "the longer this girl stays here, the more we risk putting the peoples lives in danger should Nilfgaard come looking for her."

"if you ask me, I think Prince Daemon knew who she was this whole time," Otto continues, "probably brought her here to cause trouble." "Daemon has assured me he did not know of Cirilla's true identity before he brought her to King's Landing," Viserys assures, "I see no reason why he would lie about that."

"What would the prince even hope to gain by provoking conflict with Nilfgaard?" Lyonel asks. "What other reason then for glory?" Otto points out, "abduct the girl, bait their armies to come this way, all to come out of it as a hero for the people to see?"

"Enough!" Viserys shouts, bringing the room to complete silence, and receiving the council's undivided attention, "regardless of the circumstances of how and why Cirilla was brought here, she is a guest in my house, and will be treated as such. As far as we know, no one outside these walls knows we are hosting the princess, therefore, I see no threat from powers outside Westeros."

"Your Grace-" "Princess Cirilla will remain here for the time being," Viserys states above Otto, "I will not cast her onto the streets or anywhere else to fend for herself just because of the remote possibility of conflict with an outside threat. That is final."

Otto was left with nothing else to say; clearly the king was not going to change his mind on his matter. Now the Hand was wondering if he would convince Viserys to change his mind on the next matter, "very well," he says, "and what of the other girls you currently play host to? Daemon's whore...and his bastard?"

While the small council argued over this next sensitive subject, unknown to them, Daemon was listening in on this part of the conversation.

The prince wanted to make sure that whatever arguments were going to be made, Viserys would make his decision that would be in Daemon's favor.

If it wouldn't be the case, then Daemon would do everything in his power to make his brother change his mind.

But considering you had named his daughter after the late queen, Daemon wasn't too worried.

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

Meanwhile you were holding onto Aemma, rocking her as she started to fall asleep.

After the council had been dismissed from the throne room, you were shown to your old rooms. Not much had actually changed, except the stuff you left behind had been removed.

Some time afterwards, several nurses had come to attend to Aemma while servants came to prepare your bath. You were a little surprised they would go to this much trouble for a bastard born baby, but apparently it was on Daemon's orders.

You were hesitant to leave Aemma in the care of strangers, but the bath did sound enticing and if anything you at least trusted that Daemon wouldn't put his daughter in harm's way; if anything he would've taken precautions to avoid that.

Aemma fussed though the moment you handed her to one of the nurses. She continued to cry as they took her away. You felt guilty, but you turned to the tub and undressed so as to clean yourself.

At least the servants were nice enough to bring food while you bathed.

They were also nice enough to leave you alone, which gave you enough privacy to cry your eyes out; something you didn't have the luxury to do since arriving in King's Landing, since being taken away from Kaer Morhen and from Geralt. You were ripped away from the life you had built for yourself and for your daughter, back to the place you were trying to keep Aemma away from in the first place.

Now that everyone in the Red Keep knew about Aemma, it was only a matter of time before the political games started, games that would use put your daughter in the center as a pawn, especially if Viserys had her proclaimed true born.

At this moment, this castle, despite its comfort, was feeling more like a prison compared to Kaer Morhen.

You needed to somehow get away, get your daughter away from all this. And Ciri too; who knows what kind of drama the small council would try and get Ciri involved in should they decide to for whatever reason to make Ciri a pawn in their games.

When you finished bathing, you got dressed and went to Aemma's room. A nurse had been holding her, apparently trying to get her to sleep, but the girl had been screaming and crying the whole time you were gone.

Much to the relief of the poor woman, you took Aemma and started to rock her; the babe calming down almost immediately.

As she started to fall asleep, you kiss the top of her head and sing her a lullaby.

There once was a lord in dark woods

Wearing a strange silver band

Around his hand

The band was charmed with ore from stars

Bidding all monsters away

Away

On that quiet eve

Among these trees

A bandit slew the good lord

Stealing that band

Off a dead man's hand

For the bandit also feared

Monsters.

"Quite a morbid tune from someone such as yourself, Little Lark," you hear Daemon's voice.

You sigh, turning around and holding a sleeping Aemma tight as you face the man who had stolen you from the safety of your old life and into the jaws of a new, dangerous life.

Chapter 14.5

Masterlist

#ciri #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower #corlys velaryon #viserys targaryen #daemon #daemon targaryen #hotd #the witcher

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horizon-verizon · 27 days

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I’m not sure if you’ve answered this before but I’d love to get your perspective of what you think might’ve happened/how Alicent would’ve reacted if Rhaenyra had told her what had happened with Daemon in the show?

She would have been horrified and told Otto, specifically in the circumstance of Otto going to tell Viserys. Maybe berate Rhaenyra for it before she went to Otto. Or, more likely, she'd tell both men, Otto first and then Viserys. Why Otto first? If she has some hesitance-- bc she genuinely doesn't want Rhaenyra to get angry with her, or she worries Viserys will be upset with her, or/and she doesn't want to become the "cause" of further friction between them--to see how he will direct her into how to approach Viserys with this information.

Point is that she definitely blabs; she's never going to keep information about something she thinks will destroy or severely disrupt the plans of these two men, plans for Rhaenyra's future and marriage. And she won't respect Rhaenyra or see her the exact same way she had been for however long because for the past 3-4 years she's been in her apologetic & attempting-ly conciliatory mode towards Rhaenyra so seeing Rhaenyra break such an integral rule of female sexuality just, in turn, breaks her wall of tolerance. On her end, it looks like Rhaenyra is totally unappreciative of her efforts to "understand" and grow a new "friendship" based on their stepmother-stepdaughter relationship. She thinks Rhaenyra will not properly reciprocate her efforts by submitting to this point of the status quo, of disobeying her father Viserys when she has her entire life as never felt she could disobey Otto // when she has "dutifully" followed every order her father gave her as "good" daughters do. Many tg cite that she feels like she should be "rewarded" for giving Viserys sons. I think that for the pain--emotional and physical--she gets in this marriage must mean or convert into her having the proper authority of a Queen Consort.

Daemon, as both characterized by his mortal enemy/her father, Otto, is as she said in that episode, a man "without limit", so for Rhaenyra to be her sexual partner of all men is also to make Alicent think she has either also become a person "without limit" or to motivates her into believing that she never really knew who Rhaenyra was. It's not to say that if it were some rando or if Rhaenyra had just told her it was Criston that Alicent wouldn't go to either Otto or Viserys (because the premarital sex is still a rule for women and girls that Alicent expects all noble women & girls to follow). It's that that it is Daemon that makes it worse, and even WORSE that it is Daemon instead of Rhaenyra stopping them before they can go further that will anger Alicent more. If it had been Rhaenrya stopping Dameon and showing some sort of regret as she says in episode 4, Alicent might be tempted to ask for a lighter punishment or treatment but still think that that punishment was only Viserys' right to exercise on Rhaenyra & for Rhaenyra to "properly" learn her lesson. If anything, it's likely that she'd think she's "saving" Rhaenyra by making sure Viserys knows and punishes her and exiling Daemon/separating Daemon & Rhaenyra.

Yes, Alicent appeared to have liked Daemon's attention back in the epi 1 tourney on Daemon when he asked for her favor, but it's been 3-4 years since then and it's possible Alicent has emotionally distanced herself from him in her marriage or repressed such feelings enough to sufficiently demonize Daemon. Or she's been swamped in screaming children. But of course, HotD doesn't really answer this question bc of the jump cut between epi 3 & 4, so this is my conclusion made from looking at her life in those episodes. Criston, Alicent makes the execption for because she sees his violence as protest and pain from Rhaenyra's daring manipulation. Criston trying to kill himself is really where she'd think he's worthy of being "taken in" again. And bc she feels she needs him, is rehabilitating him, is participating in his redemptive path while also feeling he has redeemed himself already. Likely also rationalizing that she needs him to protect her as she tries to get Rhaenyra replaced. So Criston, rather than Daemon, gets her benefit of the doubt or grace.

Which is why I will never understand this relationship or how it came to be. HotD has not sufficiently given us reason to think these two are or ever were friends or close -- ex. when Rhaenyra is just NOW learning that Alicent prays to her mother for self-soothing (epi 3).

#asoiaf asks to me #alicent hightower #alicent's characterization #hotd characterization #hotd episode 4 #rhaenicent

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aphrodisiac-siren · 1 year

Text

Innocence- Aemond X OC

Summary: War is an ugly thing; Something that is common knowledge to all and yet something people resort to anyway when conflicts arise. It was not something Eirlys Velaryon wanted though, nor what Aemond Targaryen wanted as well. It was a war they were dragged into, and suffering they had to endure for crimes they were innocent of.

Warning: non-con sex, under-aged intimacy.

Masterlist

Part 2

It had been a few days since the incident at the training field and the tension among the boys hadn't died down completely yet.

Even as their families had all gathered together to mourn the death of Daemon's wife, lady Leana, the young princes couldn't find it within themselves to set aside their dislike for each other, doing everything they could to avoid any conversation.

"If Eirlys turns out like our sister, I will lose all hope in this world" Aegon commented to Aemond who watched the two girls talking a few feet away from them.

Helaena was admiring a spider, occasionally stating a few informative things about the arachnida while Eirlys leaned away from the eight legged creature, slightly terrified and not wanting to be in close contact with it.

"What's the point of having a pretty face if you're constantly mumbling things that don't make sense" Aegon continued with a smirk "what good is a mouth that talks about nonsense instead of being put to other good use"

"What are you saying?" Aemond asked, clueless as to what his brother was trying to say.

"Gods you're so stupid" Aegon muttered under his breath before taking another sip of his wine "do you not have certain thoughts about her, Eirlys?"

"Well she is my betrothed" Aemond obliviously answered, not knowing the lewd context with which his older brother was questioning him "of course I think about her, she's my closest friend"

"With a slow brain like that it's no surprise she's your only friend" the older boy rolled his eyes at his brother's obtuse response "now excuse me, I need more wine"

Aemond looked back at his older sister and his friend, slightly unsure of what they found so fascinating about that spider.

Slowly, each one of the family members headed inside as the servants busied themselves to light the candles to illuminate the castle after dark.

"Princess Eirlys" he called out, using his formalities to address her while in company of other nobles "a word?"

"My prince" Eirlys followed his lead to the stone ledge of the little balcony that overlooked the waves meeting the sand on the beach.

"Do you want to accompany me on a stroll?" Aemond asked, his gaze fixated on the sandy dunes in the distance "just a along the shoreline and a little further away from the beach"

"Right now?"

"Yes, just the both of us"

"We aren't allowed to leave the castle during the day unchaperoned" The younger girl reminded, keeping her voice down "let alone going out by ourselves after dark"

"Fine" Aemond sighed, slightly disappointed "I'll see you inside after supper"

"Don't be away too long" the princess gave him a gentle smile.

"I won't"

Aemond never met Eirlys after supper, he'd not even returned as soon as he'd promised.

The princess had waited up for him in their old nursery, which was now used as Aemond's youngest brother's; Daeron.

She read a few books to pass the time and tried to work on her valerian until it was time for bed.

The princess had barely gotten a few hours of sleep before she was woken up by Halaena, informing her of the queen's wish for them to be present in the King's old study, which was now nothing more than a gathering hall.

The girl sleepily got out of bed and put on her dress robe as she followed the older girl out her chambers.

Even at this late hour, Eirlys noticed the castle was awake. She was half expecting for someone to inform her of an attack, because of which perhaps they'd woken her up to seek refuge in the one of the bunkers beneath the red keep.

Upon the girls' arrival, one of the King's guards opened the doors for them, allowing them to enter before shutting the doors once again.

Eirlys took note of her Queen Alicent sitting next to a maester who was probably tending to someone. His back faced the princess, shielding whoever was sitting in front of him. The girl also noticed her brothers standing near the far end of the room alongside Baela and Rhaena, who all looked like they'd gotten into a scuffle.

The princess left Halaena's side to go and ask her siblings what had happened but a much gruesome sight had captured her attention . Her fast paced steps halted to a stop when she laid eyes on Aemond, who's face was covered in blood, his left eye now stitched shut and the skin around it blistered and swollen.

The boy quickly tried to turn away, not wanting her to see his face with the way it looked now but the maester held the boy's jaw in place while he continued to sew shut the wound.

"What happened" she gently held the boy's hand, loosely sliding her fingers under his palm that rested on the armrest of the chair he was sat in, afraid that she might inflict more pain on his already bruised knuckles.

Aemond simply winced in pain as his hand squeezed hers unconsciously, not quite able to respond to her just yet.

"Were they attacked?" The girl sweetly asked the queen, the genuine concern she felt evident in her tone. She bent on her knees, resting her chin on the armrest so she could get a better look at the maester stitching the wound.

"Yes, he was" the woman responded, emphasising that it was solely her son who was entitled to the sympathy Eirlys was showing "it will heal will it not maester?"

"The wound will heal" the old man assured as he tended to the injury "but I'm afraid the eye is lost your grace"

Aegon made his entrance, half asleep or perhaps half drunk, it was hard to tell.

He yawned as he stumbled a few of his steps before standing by his mother's side.

Alicent's emphatic expression quickly transformed into that of rage when her gaze shifted from Aemond to Aegon. She slapped the boy hard across the face, catching the young princess Eirlys by surprise who flinched at such a harsh gesture.

"Your brother has been brutally attacked while you were away drowning in you cups" the queen snapped at a very surprised and slightly clueless Aegon "when will you learn to be responsible over a good for nothing drunk"

"Jace, Luke?" Rhaenyra ran in with Daemon who stayed at the doorway. She ran straight to her sons to examine the injuries.

Eirlys' grandparents also joined the rest of them, concerned about Baela and Rhaena.

King Viserys was the last to arrive along with the commander of the king's guard.

Rhaenyra looked toward her daughter, to inspect of any injuries. Her gaze stayed fixated on her as if she were making sure her daughter was truly fine, to which Eirlys responded to by walking toward her mother so she she could assure her she was unharmed.

Aemond slowly let go of her hand as the princess walked away from him, hoping that she would stay by his side instead of going to stand with her brothers.

The king was not pleased about their entire mess of brother against brother, blood against blood.

"What exactly happened here" the king demanded.

"They attacked me!" Aemond yelled from across the room, turning to look at his nephew. He momentarily glanced at Eirlys to let her know it was them who had started all of this.

"He attacked Baela" Luke argued.

"...broke Luke's nose"

"You punched me"

"That is a lie"

"He stole Vhagar!"

"You think my son's telling the tale?"

Everyone began to yell, eager to be heard over the other, creating quiet the commotion.

"It was an accident" Rhaenyra tried to defend her son.

"An accident? Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush to kill my son" Alicent raised her voice, not at all willing to hear anything from the princess.

"It was my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves" Rhaenyra stepped in front of the three kids "vile insults were levied against them"

"What insults" The king questioned.

"The legitimacy of my son's birth was put to question"

"He called us bastards" Jace softly said from behind his mother to which Aemond looked away quickly to hide the smirk creeping to his lips.

"My sons are in line to inherit the iron throne your grace" Rhaenyra stepped closer to her father "this is the highest of treason. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned over where he heard such slander"

"Over an insult?" Alicent sighed with annoyance "my son has lost an eye"

The king ignored her before turning to Aemond.

"Aemond" he spoke sternly "where did you hear such lies?"

The boy's gaze shifted from the king to his mother. But the prince knew better than to blame her in front of everyone and add to the mess that was already at hand.

"It was Aegon"

"Me?"

Viserys was on the brink of losing his temper and it had become evident. He wanted answers and was getting no where.

"You, boy, where did you hear these lies?" He asked only to be met with silence. By this point the king was furious "Aegon! Answer me!"

"We know father" The boy meekly replied "Just look at them"

Aegon didn't really care much about them being possibly bastards, he'd grown rather fond of their company. Yet in that moment he couldn't deny the obvious truth.

"Let me make this quiet clear, anyone who dares question the birth of Rhaenyra's children, should have his tongue removed" The king looked around, making it quiet evident that he was being serious "this terminable infighting must cease at once, your king demands is! Now, you will all make your peace and put this behind us"

"That is insufficient" Alicent walked away from her son "Aemond has been permanently damaged, goodwill cannot make him whole"

"I know" the king sighed "but I cannot restore his eye"

"No because it's been taken"

"What would you have me do?"

"There is a debt to be paid" she coldly responded "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return"

Eirlys looked up at the queen in shock, not expecting her to resort to such a drastic judgment.

"My dear wife.." Viserys tried to reason with her.

"He's your son Viserys" Alicent's voice cracked "your blood"

"Do not let your temper to guide your judgment" The king warned, not siding with his wife on the solution she'd suggested.

"If the king won't seek justice then the queen will" Alicent's voice grew harsh "Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon"

Eirlys pushed Lucerys behind her and while Rhaenyra held her hand.

"you will do no such thing"

"You can choose which eye to keep" she turned to address the younger boy "a privilege he did not grant my son"

"Alicent" The king called out, his patience running thin "This matter is finished"

The queen did not seem too pleased about his disinterest in his son being maimed and for being told off in front of everyone. She swiftly reached for the Valyrian steel dagger strapped to the king's side, quickly unsheathed it before marching upto Rheanyra.

"Mother!" Luke called out, alarmed as the princess turned around to hold the arm the queen had the dagger in, away from her.

It was chaos unleashed again. The guards rushed to separate the two while Criston was making his way toward Alicent only for Daemon to stop him.

"You've gone too far" Rhaenyra struggled to hold Alicent's arm away from her.

"I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law while you flout it all to do as you please" Alicent's voice faltered "Where is duty? where is sacrifice? its trampled under your pretty foot again" she went on "And now you take my son's eye and even to that you feel entitled"

"Exhausting wasn't it?" Rhaenyra spoke calm and coldly while she did her best to maintain a certain distance between her and the queen "Hiding under your cloak of righteousness? Well now everyone sees you as you truly are"

Alicent had finally snapped after years of growing hatred and frustration. She brought down the dagger and sliced the princess' arm from elbow to wrist before the two were finally pulled away from each other. She let the dagger fall as she looked around to take in people's expressions, most of who had started to think she was going mad.

"Do not mourn me mother" Aemond's voice broke her out of her daze "it was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye but I gained a dragon"

"This preceding is at an end" the king stated before walking away, completely tired and annoyed.

The morning after was just as glum and tense.

The servants in the castle had all heard of the event that took place and each tried to sneak a glance at the wounded prince, treating him like some sort of spectacle up for display.

Aemond hated it, both the stares and how he looked now.

"It'll heal" Eirlys tried to sound enthusiastic as she reached for his hand to offer some solace "it may take a while but-"

The girl had decided to visit him, despite her brothers asking her to just leave him be. And as much as she loved her brothers, she loved her friend Aemond as well and wanted to see how he was doing after being badly injured the night before.

"I won't Eirlys" Aemond sighed "I've been maimed for life"

"Aemond-"

"I'm sure you don't wish to marry me now" he looked down at their hands, observing how cautiously she was holding on to his "I look hideous"

"No of course not" the princess responded, the thoughts never crossing her mind. She was filled more with concern over anything else when she first saw him. And even now, all she was worried about was how painful it must be for him to endure all of it.

"I wish you hadn't called them bastards" she softly muttered as she gently traced his knuckles with the tip of her finger "you promised you wouldn't say it"

"I promised I wouldn't say it around you" the boy clarified "they accused me of stealing a dragon. How do you even steal a dragon? You claim one, and if I wasn't meant to ride Vhagar, I'd be burned until I was dead"

"You didn't have to chose a dragon that belong to the girls' late mother" Eirlys tried to explain "and then proceed to be rude about it"

"Your brothers really have a knack for turning the story around in a way that makes me the villain" the boy scoffed in disappointment "and you just take their word for it"

"But-"

"I've just claimed myself a dragon" he went on "the largest one alive. Couldn't you be a bit happy for me?"

"But they're not the only ones at fault here" she spoke "if you'd been nicer-"

"If I'd just done this or just done that. it's always my fault isn't it?" he snapped, his voice starting to falter with each word as a wave of emotions washed over him "I've just lost an eye and been blinded permanently and yet you still find reason to vouch for them. When will you start to look at things from my perspective? How I'm the one they tormented for never having a dragon, something clearly out of my control. How I'm the one they bully for it, how I'm the one who has lost an eye"

Aemond looked away and covered his face with his hands as tears began to stream down his face, his shoulders shaking as a result of his crying.

"W-why won't you ever stand by me l-like that" he managed to ask in between his sobbing "you're supposed to be my f-friend, you know that I w-would defend you"

Eirlys felt her heart clench.

She'd never seen Aemond lose his composure and cry before. She nervously wrapped her arms around him, afraid that she might hurt him if she hugged him too hard.

"I'll always stick by you" she sadly told him as he leaned against her, melting into the hug while he continued to cry, unable to bottle his emotions any longer "you know that"

"Then for once, believe me. I was the one who was attacked first" he told her, his head leaning on her shoulder "I only acted on it after it, I swear this to you"

"Alright, I believe you" she gently squeezed his shoulder as a way of assurance.

She held him in a close embrace until he stopped crying, wiping away at his tear stained face before he cleared his throat.

"Do you want to know about how I claimed Vhagar?" He sheepishly asked as he sat up straight, but still refusing to fully look at her to avoid the princess seeing his face.

"Tell me everything" she eagerly responded, leaning forward slightly in anticipation for Aemond to tell her about how he'd finally got himself a dragon.

The princess patiently listened, quiet invested in his story of how she was hostile at first but then let him climb into the saddle, following his command to take flight.

He gushed in excitement about how the rush of adrenaline filled him as he soared amidst the closed while the cool night's breeze blew against him. How he'd almost fallen out the saddle and how despite it being his first time flying a dragon, he managed to somewhat learn how to manoeuver the large beast by himself.

"Perhaps one day we could fly together" he suggested "when I'm fully trained with how to control her"

"Me? Fly Vhagar with you? I don't think Ember would like it very much" Eirlys informed, referring to her dragon "and I doubt Vhagar would either"

"Oh nonsense, if I like you, so shall she" he tried to assure her "besides, it'll be just one flight. What could go wrong?"

"A lot of things apparently"

"You'll be fine" Aemond waved her off "just trust me"

"Oh I trust you" the princess gave him a look with equal measure of uncertainty and mischief "I don't trust Vhagar"

"She'll warm up to you" he simply stated with a confident puff of his chest "I know she will"

Aemond and Eirlys continued on their little debate about Vhagar. Eirlys smiled subconsciously as she looked at Aemond enthusiastically rant on and on about the dragon. She was happy that at long last, Aemond had no reason to feel exiled.

The news of Laenor's death came as a shock to the young Eirlys.

The girl was informed of her father's passing a few moments after she woke up and the rumours had already begun to spread, saying that the princess Rhaenyra played a part in ordering the death of her husband.

Eirlys was not one to pay much heed to servants' gossip but when her mother informed her of her decision to leave for Dragonstone and wed Daemon, the young girl began to have her doubts.

Since Eirlys was betrothed to the young prince Aemond, she was to stay at the Red Keep, as queen Alicent's ward.

Eirlys did want to be with her family to grieve the loss of her late father, but duty came before all else and the princess wasn't left with much of a choice with regards to where she would take residence.

Aemond did try to offer some consolation but there was nothing he could possibly say that would provide much comfort to a person who'd just lost their father.

In the days that followed, he tried to provide some distraction to keep her mind preoccupied from the grief. He'd help her with her valerian, ask her to watch him train with Vhagar and on some occasions, had her take lessons in archery along with him.

Aegon did try to be of some help as well but his only solution was to drink wine and Alicent did not approve of his ideas.

Halaena sometimes sat with the girl during the late hours of noon to teach her embroidery, something the younger girl was not as good at; as they watched Dareon play with his toys.

It had been a few years since Eirlys had said goodbye to her family. She was fourteen now and had gotten some what accustomed to living without her mother and brothers by her side.

She was presently sitting in Aemond's chambers, the both of them reading a book.

"Z-zirila iemny maz-verdatan leda zihon riña" Eirlys struggled to read the text, pronouncing a handful of the words incorrectly.

"Zirȳla iemny mazverdatan lēda zȳhon riña" Aemond repeated, emphasising on the words she'd mispronounced "it means her belly swelled with his child"

"Oh" she simply stated before she paused for a few moments, her mind lost to her thoughts.

"How does one come to be with child?" She asked, completely clueless "I've heard they have to kiss-"

"No," Aemond looked at her like she was daft "I overheard someone say they have to sleep together"

"How does that even work?" Eirlys tilted her head in confusion.

"I don't know" Aemond shrugged, now slightly intrigued by the discussion "I suppose they have to sleep in the same bed and then on the morrow the woman will be with child"

"But that's-" the girl huffed in annoyance "what if you're in the woods or someplace else and it's cold, and you have to hold the person next to you for warmth to fall asleep? I don't want to be with child just because I was cold"

"But if you're in the woods you won't be asleep on a bed silly" the prince quickly responded.

"Why does a bed play an importance?"

"Like I said, I don't know. I just heard one of the servants say something like "he took her to bed and they slept together a few nights after as well" when they were talking about that wet nurse who got pregnant"

"Your mother must know" Eirlys asked hopefully "I mean she's got to, she's had four children already"

"I am not asking my mother this" Aemond rolled his eyes "you ask her and then tell me"

"She's your mother" Eirlys argued "you do it"

"Well I won't, let's find someone else who'd know"

"Aegon might" the princess stated, as she closed shut the book, no longer interested in learning the language momentarily.

"Aegon?" Aemond's expression switched from interested to disappointed while he picked up the book and stood to go and put it back on the shelf "he's an idiot, all he does is drink wine and sneak out the castle after dark"

"And he's older" Eirlys tried to persuade the boy as she walked toward him "he must know. Just ask him about it, doesn't hurt just to inquire"

"Alright" Aemond sighed in defeat, not really knowing who else to ask.

"Aemond?" Eirlys called out, another question coming to mind "if a kiss doesn't leave you with child, why do people do it?"

"I think people who are close enough who want to deepen their bond do it" he tried to think of a reason "probably just a show of affection"

"Well, we're close" she looked down at her hands on her lap "and we've never..."

"Hmm, I suppose we haven't" Aemond recalled, as he nervously glanced at her "d-do you want to, perhaps try?"

"I don't mind" Eirlys innocently shrugged as she turned to look at him.

The two of them nervously leaned in, eyes fluttered shut.

"Wait" Aemond softly called out as he quickly opened his eye, Eirlys doing the same "where do I put my hands?"

"I- i don't know" Eirlys answered as she too suddenly felt it awkward having her arms just dropped at her sides "should we just hold hands?"

The boy held both her hands in his, her palms facing down and his facing up, similar to how one would hold their partner's hands while they recited their vows at their wedding.

The two once again closed their eyes and leaned in, Aemond gently pecked Eirlys' lips before they both pulled back.

"Is that it?" She asked, not sure what to expect in truth.

"I uh" Aemond nervously rubbed the back of his neck "I thought it was alright, don't see the fuss about a kiss like the way they mention in books"

"I know" Eirlys agreed "it's just... so simple"

The two of them didn't really think much of it later, not really expecting it to be so bland. They quickly began talking about something else, the topic of kissing slowly losing their interest.

"I was thinking about getting a jewel in place of the eye I lost" Aemond told the princess as he pointed to the eye patch he had begun wearing.

"Really? That'd look amazing"

"I know" he smiled, proud at the little idea he had "I was thinking of which one though, perhaps an emerald?"

"No, too much green" the girl disapproved as she remembered the green vests he so often wore "how about a sapphire instead?"

Aemond and Eirlys had decided to spend the day by taking a stroll through the gardens.

It had been a couple of days since their first kiss, that neither of them even considered as their first since it was just an innocent peck that didn't really bring much of a change in their relationship.

Aemond had got the jewel Eirlys had suggested fitted into the empty socket just that morning and had decided to retire the eye patch for the day, eager to show off the vibrant blue sapphire.

"It feels a little weird" he told her as they walked on the pathway next to the bushes, referring to the sapphire "but I like the way it looks"

"I told you the sapphire would suit you well" she smiled, taking credit for it "did you have that conversation with Aegon?"

"No" the boys huffed as he recalled their curiosity regarding how a woman came to be with child "I haven't been able to ask him about it yet"

"You're stalling" the girl threw him a nasty look "I tried asking one of my handmaidens but they refused to tell me"

"What about Helaena?"

"I asked her last night after supper" Eirlys told him "but she responded with a rather complicated statement that I could not decipher"

"Ah yes, my sister has a tendency to speak in riddles sometimes" he heaved a sigh "wonder why she does it"

"She's been helping me lately with my embroidery though" the girl pulled out a handkerchief that was tucked away in her dress sleeve "look"

Aemond gingerly took it from her grasp as he examined the embroidery on it that Eirlys was so eager to show him.

"Well that's a nice um" Aemond struggled to figure out what it was exactly that she'd tried to design with the colourful choice of threads "do you wish for me to be honest or should I instead reward you with false flattery?"

"You're such an arse" the princess snatched the handkerchief back from his grasp as Aemond chuckled at her gesture "those were supposed to be tiny butterflies"

"Emphasise slightly more on the word 'supposed' my lady" the boy grinned down at her "so here's another thing you can add to the list of things you're not good at apart from high valerian"

"I hate you" Eirlys grumbled as she quicken her pace and walked away from him.

"Hey-" the boys laughed as he jogged up to her "you know you love me"

"Qogralbar hen" (fuck off) Eirlys snapped at him.

"Impressive" Aemond grinned, annoying her even further with that shit eating grin of his "is that how you speak to your future husband, princess?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't be such a nuisance to your future wife, my prince" Eirlys side eyed him.

"This is going to be one of those marriages, isn't it?" the prince chuckled at the thought "where we're constantly bickering playfully amongst each other that others might mistake for enmity"

"Oh please, this isn't playful. I quiet genuinely hate you" Eirlys jested as she tucked away the handkerchief "one day I'm going to feed you to Ember"

"No, I'm going to feed you to Vhagar" he corrected.

Aemond found it amusing watching Eirlys get annoyed at the things he said just to poke fun at her. He found it even more hilarious when she, in that annoyance, came up with more insults to hurl at him.

Once they were bored of the view the gardens provided and the repetitive sarcastic mocking, the two of them decided to head back to their chambers for the evening before it was time for their supper.

Aemond walked Eirlys to her chamber, trying his best to not poke fun at her.

"I'll see you after supper?" He asked as he held the door open for her "Dareon's nursery"

"Weren't you supposed to talk to Aegon" the girl reminded.

"Fuck" the prince grunted in annoyance, not really wanting to be the one to ask "he's just going to call me an idiot for not knowing. Can't you ask him?"

"No, I cannot" Eirlys sweetly smiled just to tick him off "ask him tonight and then tell me on the morrow after we break our fast"

"The things I do for you" Aemond rolled his eye.

"I agreed to marry you" Eirlys jabbed a finger at his chest "I think at the very least you could ask your older brother a simple question"

"Then don't marry me" the boys shrugged.

"Alright" Eirlys responded nonchalantly "but first go and talk to Aegon. There's no way out of this for you"

"I hate you" Aemond looked away.

"You know you love me" Eirlys quoted him as she leaned forward, placing a hand on his chest before she gently kissed his cheek "I'll see you on the morrow"

Aemond sighed as a small smile graced his lips. He turned around to walk back to his own chambers once Eirlys had shut the doors to her own.

The two of them had been the closest of friends ever since they could remember. And even though she'd never kissed his cheek before, the innocent gesture wasn't much of a surprise. They had grown so close over the years that by now it was almost natural with their increase in age.

The young prince found himself smiling as he walked all the way back to his quarters, suddenly unsure why that tiny little gesture of her kissing his cheek made something momentarily flutter in his chest.

As expected, Aemond was met with the usual teasing and insults when he asked Aegon about the question both him and Eirlys were curious about.

"You are so stupid it physically hurts" the older boy exaggerated "honestly, am I supposed to believe you are my brother?"

"Are you done making a fuss about it?" Aemond sounded annoyed "or are you just going to keep at it instead of actually telling me"

"Hang on" Aegon held up a finger to silence his brother as he chugged down an entire goblet of wine "I'm going to take you someplace-"

"No that's not-" Aemond sighed as he looked at his brother "I don't want to go on a little trip with you, just answer what I-"

"You'll see for yourself" Aegon smirked as he rummaged for something under his bed before standing up again and tossing some old clothes to his brother "wear this"

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see"

Aegon snuck out the castle, this time taking his little brother along with him. He carefully managed to sneak past the guards, having done this many a times before.

The prince walked through the now-very-familiar city streets, knowing every turn and alleyway by heart.

He walked up a few stairs and through some narrow lanes until he reached a street lined with half naked women, eyeing everyone passing by and calling after them in an attempt to seductively lure them.

"Where are we?" Aemond nervously asked as he inched closer to his brother.

"A whore house" Aegon casually responded "this one is of my favourite establishments"

"I don't think.." Aemond trailed off as he clutched his older brother's cloak "we should go back"

"You're six and ten brother" the older prince slapped his brother playfully on the back "it's about time for you to be as educated as I am"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Aegon didn't respond.

He simply walked toward the door of the house, swinging in open and pulling his brother along with him.

Aemond could practically hear his heart pounding against his chest as he followed his brother through the dark hallway preoccupied by people who were pressed up against each other, moaning profanities that echoed throughout the narrow space.

"Prince Aegon" a woman smiled at the boy "I see you've brought company"

"Ah yes, this is my little brother" the prince pulled Aemond forward "it's his first time so send him someone who's patient enough to show him the reigns"

"Mhm" the older woman eyed the young boy up and down as she looked behind and yelled out someone's name, probably the whore who'd serve as his entertainment for the night.

"You wanted me to answer your question didn't you?" Aegon smirked as he handed the lady a handful of gold coins "time to get it wet"

Aegon ran off to find a girl to pleasure himself with while Aemond was guided to a room.

To say the young boy was nervous as he was shoved into a room with a naked woman awaiting him would be an understatement.

The boy stood frozen as she took her time undressing him, muttering things like "it's alright" and "calm down" as she guided him to the bed to teach him the things a man was supposed to do for a women in bed, which in turn answered the question he'd been curious about regarding pregnancy.

About halfway through, Aemond shoved her off him, making haste to grab his clothes and to dress himself, quiet eager to leave and uncomfortable with the places of himself her hands and mouth had explored.

"Where are you going my prince?" The lady asked, surprised that one of her customers wasn't satisfied with her service, ignoring the fact that Aemond was still only a boy.

The prince did not bother to answer her question.

He ran out the establishment and made his way back to the castle, using the same route Aegon had used earlier and one that Aemond was surprised he remembered so well.

Upon his arrival, Aemond rid himself of the rags Aegon had given him and wore his usual attire.

The young boy's mind was muddled up from the events that took place. The things he saw, the things he experienced, the things the whore told him.

He felt so sick, disgusted even.

He never wanted any of this, and in that moment he regretted even going to Aegon for answers. His mind was replaying everything all over again as his heart continued to pound against his chest.

He aggressively shoved open the doors and ran to the only person he felt safe with.

Not caring that the hour was late, he knocked loudly against Eirlys' door.

The princess took a few minutes to get out of bed and answer whoever was on the other side of the door.

"Aemond?" She called out sleepily as she rubbed her eyes "what's wrong?"

The boy opened his mouth to talk but wasn't sure what to say. There was no way in seven hells he was going to tell her whatever just happened.

Unable to communicate what he was feeling, he just hugged her, still trembling; something that Eirlys noticed.

"What happened" she asked again with an undertone of concern as she wrapped her arms around him.

"I can't be alone right now" the boy's voice faltered "can I sleep here?"

"Of course"

Eirlys grabbed a pillow and a blanket and placed it on the little mattress by the window.

"You can have the bed" she sweetly told him "I like the night sky anyway"

"No it's alright, we can just share" Aemond took the pillow from her hand as he crawled into bed.

"But" Eirlys recalled what Aemond had told her a few days ago "if we sleep in the same bed then I'll get-"

"You won't" the prince quickly responded, knowing exactly what she was referring to "I uh, I was wrong about that"

"Oh" Eirlys slowly walked to her bed and sat on the edge "did you ask Aegon?"

Aemond was reminded yet again of the place he was taken to by his brother and quickly cleared his throat to break the long silence.

"I did"

"And?"

"I really don't wish to talk about it" he told her, his voice almost pleading "please"

The girl sensed a certain discomfort and didn't pry any further. She silently got under the covers and adjusted her pillow.

She leaned in to kiss the boy's cheek as she said good night but Aemond responded by quickly flinching away, taking her by surprise.

"What are you doing?" He asked, sounding almost terrified.

"I-I was only kissing you goodnight" Eirlys tenderly told him, feeling suddenly shattered by his response.

"Oh" he muttered "I see"

She didn't lean in a second time to kiss him and instead just rested her head on her pillow.

Aemond rolled to his side so that his back was facing her as he shut his eyes, desperate to fall asleep so that he could be free from his thoughts.

The boy finally drifted off into a dreamless slumber, while he tightly clutched his tear stained pillow.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #tom bennett #world on fire #aemond #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond headcanons #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #daemon targaryen #daemon smut #aegon targaryen #aegon smut

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