#aemond
Text
The Fall from the Heavens (26)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: mention of sex, incest, smut, angst, swearing ]
[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard
Lady Strong Moodboard
Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard
Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
Jace remembered perfectly the day his little sister was born. Laenor had led him into his mother's chamber that day, holding his hand, saying that she was very tired and they couldn't spend much time with her − he had insisted on seeing her because he was delighted to finally have a sibling, a brother to play with and be friends with.
His mother, the future queen, smiled softly at the sight of him, her white hair loose and in disarray, her face red from sweat and exertion.
She held out her hand to him and he hugged her, peering curiously at the infant she held clutched to her chest.
"He's so tiny." He said in disbelief, brushing the baby's finger with his own − he smiled when he saw the baby's hand clench into a small fist with its quiet purr.
"She. You have a little sister." He heard his mother's amused voice; he furrowed his brow at her words and rose, angry and disappointed.
"− wait, comrade −" Laenor called out after him, but he refused to look at her.
She was a disappointment to him.
For the first few months, he had pretended not to hear her cries or squeals from their mother's chamber − even though Rheanyra had spoken to him and encouraged him to meet her, he had refused to do so, recognising that no little girl interested him.
"It was supposed to be a boy." He muttered regretfully while playing with his large, wooden, black dragon, pretending that the stacks of books were the great hills over which he flew on Balerion. His mother smiled at his words and combed her hand through his dark curls.
"That is what the gods have decided. She may be your future wife."
Jace put down his toy, looking at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.
"Am I going to have to kiss her?" He asked in disgust, recalling the stories Laenor sometimes read to him before bed, in which great knights freed beautiful women from the paws of monsters, only to fall in love with them later and be bestowed a kiss by them.
His mother smiled involuntarily.
"Don't think about such things until you're a grown man. No kissing for now." She giggled, pinching his cheek. He smiled lazily seeing her warm expression, the motherly love that beat from her.
That night he went to the chamber where she slept for the first time; he leaned over the cradle, glancing at her plump little figure wrapped in a white robe and a small headpiece. Her eyes opened suddenly and he was terrified that she would burst into tears − she, however, merely clutched her small feet and began to rock from side to side, looking at him curiously.
He smiled involuntarily at this sight and tickled her belly with his finger. Her squeal and loud giggle answered him, her eyes lit up in joy, her little body all the way up in euphoria. He laughed seeing this, repeating his gesture, thinking she was like a small animal, a puppy or a kitten.
He decided that at the end of the day she wasn't so bad and stopped pretending she didn't exist.
Until Luke was born he had treated her as if she were a boy, driving their mother to despair every time they both returned sodden with mud and sand after another battle with Aegon and Aemond.
He had always felt that his uncles disliked him, and even though they were of a similar age to him, he did not feel comfortable in their company − nor could he hide his jealousy at the sight of their snow-white hair, proof of who they were.
Looking at his father and mother, he could not comprehend why his hair was not that shade.
Rhaenyra explained to him that it was surely because of the Baratheon blood that also flowed through their veins, and although he was disappointed, the sight that he was not the only one, that his sister and Luke looked similar to him, comforted him.
The first time Aegon laughed sincerely at what he said occurred when he called his sister a hamster. The comparison came to his mind when she took air in her mouth and furrowed her brow − he uttered it thoughtlessly, and his uncle burst out laughing and patted him on the back.
"− gods, you're right − and those big eyes of hers −" He sneered, and although he saw that his sister lowered her gaze, embarrassed, he continued, eager to hear more words of praise from his lips.
"− she has just as much sense too −" He added, seeing his uncle throw him an amused, mocking look suggesting that he agreed with him.
He felt a squeeze in his heart when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his sister had turned and walked away, passing through the cloisters towards their quarters without even giving him another glance.
He turned around and noticed to his surprise that he was not the only person to notice her leaving − his other uncle, Aemond, led her away with his eyes and then threw him a look full of despise, from which he felt discomfort.
He pressed his lips together at the thought that he was the heir to the throne and, unlike him, had his own dragon.
Who was he to look down on him with such superiority?
He decided to remind him of that and share that thought with his brother.
Aegon's involvement in their little joke surprised even him − his uncle thought it was an excellent idea. He argued that his younger brother was too sullen and serious for his age, that he was sapient and could use a little lesson.
As he listened to Aegon convince him that they had found a dragon for him, as he saw the hint of hope and the shy, embarrassed smile of excitement on his uncle's face, he felt for a moment that perhaps they should not do this.
However, it was too late to retreat − Luke ran deeper into the cave, and came out a moment later, leading by a rope a large pig to which they had attached self-made wooden wings early on.
"Behold! The Pink Dread!"
He saw that his uncle froze and turned pale as they burst out laughing, swallowing this humiliation with difficulty − his eyes glazed over and reddened, his gaze again blank and distant.
He knew they had broken him.
That same day he mentioned it to his sister, and her reaction angered him.
"You are cruel." She said resentfully.
Which side was she on?
"He's forever looking down on us because he has white hair. He's constantly making excuses and bragging about what he's read in those silly dusty books of his." He snorted, playing between his fingers with the gold coin their grandfather had brought him from another of his trips overseas.
He blinked when his sister simply rose from her seat and walked out, leaving him in a state of shock and displeasure − he decided, however, that these were just normal female emotions and would surely pass her until supper.
He loved his father, but he also greatly valued and respected Ser Harwin Strong. He was a stocky, tall, handsome man who could fight very well. He often spoke to him or helped him practice by sharing stories of his duels in tournaments and hunts.
He thought then that he would like to be like him one day.
He knew that he was a close confidant of his mother and often saw them together, however, his father seemed not to mind, so he considered this condition perfectly normal and did not bother.
After a few weeks, the will of their King fell upon them like a bolt from the heavens, and their mother informed them of it during one of their suppers together.
"− your grandfather and our King has decided today that, to strengthen our lineage, we will betroth your sister to your uncle, Prince Aemond − let us raise our cups for this −" She said, glancing towards her daughter, his sister smiling broadly at her words, happy.
What?
"− what do you mean? − why? −" He asked, feeling discomfort in his stomach and a cold sweat on his back.
They wanted to gift him his sister as a consolation because he didn't have a dragon of his own?
"− your grandfather wants peace to reign in the kingdom after his death − such a marriage in his eyes will strengthen our family and our bonds between each other − of course, the marriage will only happen when your sister is of the right age −" She said calmly, looking at her daughter with tenderness, taking an unruly strand of her dark hair from her face.
"− did you agree? −" He asked his little sister in disbelief, and she nodded quickly, as if it was the happiest day of her life.
"− yes − I'm very pleased − I'm fond of our uncle −" She said quickly, putting a piece of roast on her plate, describing how worried she was that she would have to marry someone much older than herself.
He stared blankly ahead, clenching his hands into fists, bitter and disappointed.
Had she really never considered him as her husband?
After all, he was her elder brother; in their lineage such marriages were obvious.
He dared not, however, defy the will of the King himself.
His resentment towards his uncle increased with each passing week seeing that, against his wishes, he was not being harsh and unpleasant to his sister − on the contrary, he seemed to have softened in her company, his face, though still pathetically proud, also expressing curiosity and affection.
He felt rage in his heart at the thought that they could really have wished to bring about this marriage.
However, the cup of bitterness overflowed the moment he saw his sister kiss him.
They were both too certain that no one could see them − he watched them from the corridor through a window overlooking the library.
His sister was standing by the bookcase, saying something to him, and he stood up and walked lazily over to her. He rose on his tiptoes and apparently reached for a book that stood too high for her. She smiled broadly as he handed it to her, her hand traveling to his shoulder.
He swallowed hard as her lips pressed against his, and as soon as she pulled away, her uncle grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again, deeper and longer.
He fled to his chamber and burst into tears with rage, dropping all the objects standing on his table, disappointed and humiliated that although he was to become King in the future, someone else was taking away something that in his mind was his right.
He never wondered what kind of love he had bestowed upon her and whether it was the form of affection that usually bound married couples; he knew that he would care for her and be good to her and that was enough for him.
She was his sister and he would never hurt her.
She, however, looked only to her uncle and it was to him that she gave her heart and mind.
He didn't know what he felt when Luke slashed his face that night when their uncle stole Vhagar − horror, shame, satisfaction and relief all mingled in his mind into one.
On the one hand, he was overjoyed that he had taken back what in his mind should have been his, on the other he was embarrassed and distraught at the confirmation of his fears that had long smouldered in his mind.
It was Harwin Strong who was their father.
To his seed he owed his dark curls.
He was a bastard.
He tried to turn his thoughts away from considering what this meant for them, focusing on the fact that his sister would surely no longer want her uncle for a husband, and their paths would part.
This is exactly what happened.
Still, what he had planned did not happen, and his mother decided to change her plan and marry her off to their cousin, Lord Arryn's son, to strengthen her support in the North of the kingdom. Again, he felt a wave of disappointment, however, this time he was not so jealous − he knew that she had no love for their cousin and that he was certainly no threat to her.
"What's my little sister doing?" He asked with amusement, startling her completely, sitting bent over her desk − she quickly grabbed the parchment she had just been writing something on and tucked it under the table, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Are you writing a letter to someone?" He sneered, raising an eyebrow, standing over her with a smile. She swallowed hard and looked down, thoughtful.
"I write poetry. But I don't want anyone to read it." She muttered, and he sighed quietly and nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't going to force her to do anything.
"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach? It's beautiful weather." He encouraged her; she, however, shook her head, no longer bestowing a single glance on him.
"No, forgive me. I'm tired."
He pressed his lips together at her rejection, which he had faced again and again since they had moved to Dragonstone.
Even though he tried to get close to her, to understand her and comfort her, she still didn't want him.
He was ashamed to speak of his feelings with his mother or stepfather, much less Luke, however, to his surprise, his closest confidant turned out to be Baela.
"I don't understand her. It seems to me that she still misses him, even though he has certainly forgotten her by now. I have heard that he is a cold, vain, self-obsessed man. He's always been that way, treating her only as an object, a consolation prize. Now that he has a dragon he doesn't need her." He said angrily − his cousin sighed heavily at his words, looking at him with understanding.
"When people part in anger and don't close a chapter, it's hard for them to move on. Perhaps she knew him in a way that is unknown to us. He's always been withdrawn into himself." She muttered disapprovingly, fiddling with the wine cup in her hand, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing fire.
He smiled at the thought that he was certain she recalled the impetuosity with which her uncle had punched her in the face with his fist that night when he lost an eye. Baela looked at him, raising her eyebrows.
"What's that look?" She asked and kicked him under the table with her foot. He giggled at her reaction and shook his head, lowering his gaze to her fingers.
"I would have been better for her. I would have really cared for her. Maybe I wouldn't have given her everything she needed, but at least with me she would have been safe." He said with a tiredness from which his companion sighed heavily. He lifted his gaze to her as her hand grasped his and squeezed it.
"I know." She replied softly.
He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen as he saw her soft, misty gaze, feeling her warm thumb stroke his palm. He grunted as he felt his manhood pulsate in his breeches at the thought that, indeed, his cousin was a very fine woman.
He had always liked her sharp tongue and confidence.
"Have you ever lain in bed with a woman?" She asked him suddenly, and he drew in the air loudly, shocked, feeling that his cheeks had certainly turned red with shame.
He didn't know what to answer.
He didn't want to humiliate himself with words that he had absolutely no experience in these matters knowing that she had a more liberated approach to these affairs.
Daemon, as her father, had expressed no dissent, so who was he to lecture her?
She sighed quietly, seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, and rose from her seat, turning her back to him, gripping the ties of her bodice with her hands.
"I need you to help me."
Baela was a calm and patient teacher − it seemed to him that she took great satisfaction in his lack of understanding of what she was actually doing to him as she sank down on his swollen manhood again and again with a moan of delight − her brown naked skin glistened wonderfully in the light of the blazing fire, her white curls falling over her shoulders in disarray, her full lips parted in obvious desire from which he felt his fulfilment approaching embarrassingly fast.
She made sure he didn't fill her with his seed, letting him instead come down on her abdomen with his low moan of pleasure, his length pulsating and twitching in her hand for a while longer. He licked his lower lip dry with emotion, looking at her in disbelief, a soft, shy smile on her face.
"− you're beautiful −" He whispered, and she giggled under her breath and kissed him in a way from which he felt hot in his heart.
She made him forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them, finding in her both friend and lover, the confidante of all his secrets.
She was not jealous of his sister − on the contrary, he had the impression that she understood the source of his anger and disappointment, herself having no intention of explaining to him what she was doing and with whom.
It seemed to him that their relationship and its freedom suited them both.
Of course, they both knew that in the end they would experience a marriage that would inevitably be purely political, and they understood what that entailed.
Then their grandfather was injured on one of his expeditions, and Vaemond Velaryon challenged his younger brother's rights to the throne of Driftmark.
Knowing the truth about his parentage and at the same time refusing to accept it, he became enraged, sad and depressed at the same time − Baela's words of comfort that they would find a solution and not allow themselves to be intimidated did not reassure him.
Once again, his uncle and his family were trying to take their inheritance from them.
His return to King's Landing was a shock to him; to his disappointment, he felt like an intruder there, and it seemed to him that was exactly how he was perceived by everyone.
He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his neck, his stomach twisting with discomfort when he saw his uncle in the distance, wielding his sword as if it weighed nothing, easily defeating Criston Cole, pressing its blade against his neck.
He was tall, muscular, his long white hair, proof that he was in fact a Targaryen partly tied at the back of his head with a black ribbon, his jaw long and sharply defined, his gaze wild and cold, terrifying.
He smiled mockingly at the sight of them, playing with the hilt of his sword between his fingers as if he wanted to devour them.
He felt ashamed at the thought that he was terrified.
And then his uncle spotted their sister in the distance �� his heart beat harder at the sight of their expressions.
It seemed to him that this reunion years later had caused them pain, as they both froze, breathing heavily, looking at each other as if there was no one else around.
His uncle hummed under his breath and turned away, nodding at Ser Criston, taking another swing with his sword.
Even though he hadn't cared what happened to her for so many years, even though he had humiliated her at supper by calling her Lady Strong, she had confessed in front of everyone that her place was with him.
He looked at her in disbelief, wondering what she was doing, why she had stooped to courting him when it was obvious that her uncle had neither respect nor affection for her.
After a moment, he heard his uncle's cold, trembling, deep voice.
"So it is decided, father. We will marry."
"How could our mother agree to this? How could she let her stay there?" He asked furiously, circling around his chamber in Dragonstone; Baela sighed heavily, turning her head away. She looked at him finally, hesitation in her gaze.
"I didn't tell you because I knew it would only enrage you and you wouldn't leave her alone." She said tiredly − he halted in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding like mad.
"You didn't tell me about what?" He asked dryly, frustrated and concerned.
Baela let out a loud breath, shaking her head. They were now betrothed, and although he thought they both seemed to have accepted their families' decisions with relief, he couldn't rejoice.
"My father told me that she had been sending him letters all these years. That the same night we arrived in the Red Keep she spent the night in his chamber."
He stared at her dully, feeling that it made him sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit, his face taking on an expression of disgust.
So she didn't write any poetry then, he thought with regret and pain.
"− how could she do this − expose our mother to humiliation and gossip −"
"Jace. She never stopped loving him. I think she's naive too, but you'd have to be blind not to see that she never really accepted it all. I don't know what I think about it myself." She admitted, running her hand over her face.
"You don't know what you think about it? I'll tell you. Our uncle will play with her and take advantage of her, and then he will put her up to ridicule and hand her over to us. He won't marry her." He growled angrily, burying his face in his hands, wondering how she could be so foolish, how she could believe that he had sincere intentions about her.
"The matter of succession is on a knife-edge. Perhaps our grandfather is right? A union between our mother and the Queen could really ease the situation." She muttered, clearly looking for anything comforting in the situation, which he completely failed to understand.
Had everyone around him lost their minds?
"My uncle who thinks we are bastards is supposed to alleviate the situation? He will never agree to let me sit on the throne and I am supposed to give him my sister?" He asked in disbelief; Baela tightened her lips at his words, frustrated.
"You speak of her as if she were an object. It's always been that way."
He felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine at her words, every muscle in his body tensing like a string.
"What do you mean?" He asked coolly.
Baela sighed heavily, clearly trying not to explode and form her thoughts so as to be honest but not cruel.
"You think she was born to fulfil your whims? That the fact that you are her eldest brother gives you precedence to lie in bed with her?"
He felt himself blush with shame at her question, shocked.
Discomfort and arousal surged through his lower abdomen at the thought.
"Do you think that's what I mean? I'm just trying to…"
"Yes, Jace. I've never witnessed you ask her how she feels, what she needs. I am fond of you, but you are a selfish boy, not a man."
He felt ashamed at the thought as tears gathered under his eyelids at her words, a terrible, cold shudder shook his body, his heart began to pound like mad.
You are a selfish boy, not a man.
Her words so offended him that he stopped speaking to her despite her pleas, and then the thing he feared most happened.
The King was dead, Aegon had stolen her mother's throne and his uncle had imprisoned his sister.
They had made a mockery of them.
He had been right all along, but no one listened to him.
"Forgive me, Jace." Baela muttered, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knelt beside him, sighing heavily, laying her head on his thigh, and he involuntarily stroked her hair, feeling superiority, feeling strength.
He was going to fight for his mother's crown and bring his sister home.
In order to do so, at the behest of their mother, he flew to Winterfell to ask Cregan Stark for his support in this cause, reminding him of the oath his father had taken before her.
The North seemed to him a beautiful and wild place, so far from what he knew − the snow-covered hills, the austere fortresses of dark stone, the robes that looked only grey, black or brown around him gave him a sense of modesty and space.
Lord Stark's nature appeared to be similar to his, and the few days he had spent in his company hunting and riding horses had actually made him feel good − he felt like someone worthy with him, a true heir to the throne, not a bastard.
It was this feeling that, seeing the young Lady Snow from afar, he allowed himself to be enchanted by her charms and lay in bed with her.
Like a real man.
When he arrived back in Dragonstone he learned that Luke had just returned from Storm's End and that he had seen their sister.
"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." Growled Daemon, shocked and horrified by his naivety, burying his face in his hands, unable to look at him.
"Daemon." Their mother rebuked him, all pale, her hand clenched on her womb. "What happened next?"
"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." His brother muttered, and he felt his heart stop, he and Baela looked at each other quickly.
She had tried to take her own life.
Because of this bastard, his sister could be dead.
His hands clenched into fists at that thought.
"And then?" Pressed Daemon in an impatient voice.
"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." He mumbled and he slammed his fist on the table, feeling fury and rage boiling up inside him.
"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He growled red with anger − Daemon threw him a single, drawn-out look.
"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He continued, pretending not to have heard his outburst.
"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." Luke said. Daemon sighed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on the top of the stone table, thoughtful.
"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."
Baela followed him into his chamber in an attempt to calm him down.
"How can he want to pact with that fucking traitor? His brother stole my mother and his wife's throne!" He shouted in her face − his betrothed dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness.
"Since he let them meet, maybe there is something to it. My father knows what he's doing, I trust him. I believe he will bring her home."
"You're naive. You always have been."
"And you're vain. You always have been."
He pressed his lips together at her words, feeling his heart pounding like mad, feeling like something was about to explode inside him.
"I met a woman in Winterfell who I took to my bed." He muttered finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
Part of him wanted to hurt her, and part of him wanted to be honest with her.
That was what they had promised each other.
Baela laughed at his words in disbelief and shook her head − he had a feeling he saw a shadow of regret in her gaze, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or because she understood why he said it now.
"If you wish, I'll relate to you how I spent my time in your absence, but I'm not sure you'll be able to look into this guard's face afterwards." She sneered, lifting her chin high, looking at him defiantly. He felt a wave of hot shame and anger surge through his body.
"After we're married…are you going to continue this?" He asked uncertainly and she cocked her head to the side.
"If you are not faithful to me, I will not remain faithful to you. You are dear to me, but don't think I will cry for you. Certainly not like your sister cried for her uncle. Part of me has always envied her that she experienced such a deep feeling in her life even if it burned her from the inside for so many years." She said with a kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his stomach, but he answered nothing to her words.
He knew that they did not love each other.
They were close and felt comfortable together, but they weren't mad about each other.
He believed it just had to be this way.
He waited impatiently along with his mother and the others gathered for Daemon to return from his meeting with their uncle, simultaneously terrified and angry that they were speaking with traitors instead of fighting.
When they heard the squeal of Caraxes in the distance his mother stood up, pale, holding her hand on her womb again, as if remembering the time when she had carried her only daughter under her heart.
His other sister had died before she was even truly born.
When Daemon stepped into the main hall everyone was already waiting for him; he sighed heavily, placing his Dark Sister on the table top, folding his hands in front of him, straightening.
"Your daughter married her uncle of her own free will. My nephew has conveyed to me that his brother-cunt will relinquish the throne he stole from you if it is your daughter's children and his who become heirs to the throne or, in the event they do not conceive a son, ours − Viserys and Aegon. He demands the exclusion of Jace, Luke and Joffrey from the succession." He said dispassionately. He looked at his mother seeing that she had run out of words.
"− mother − this is −"
"− leave us − all of you −" She ordered.
"− mother − this is my inheritance − mine −" He began, but felt Baela's grip on his arm.
"− Jace − that's enough −"
He sat in his chamber thinking only of the fact that his mother was just contemplating whether or not to agree to deprive him of his inheritance, to acknowledge that he was her bastard despite the fact that he was her firstborn son, despite the fact that Laenor Velaryon had acknowledged him as his heir.
"− Jace −" Baela muttered, seeing his condition.
"− leave −" He said. He heard her sigh heavily as she approached him with a rustle of her gown, kneeling at his feet.
"− Jace − I'm on your side − I always have been − don't you see me as your companion? − your friend? − your lover? −" She asked with a pained expression that startled him. He lowered his hands and looked at her − his palm rose to her cheek, which he stroked with a tender, slow gesture.
"− you resent me − you don't see me as a man, but as a child −"
"− that is not true −"
"− I don't want your pity −"
"− Jace −"
"− you were right − I don't want to frustrate you and I understand all the accusations about me that you've made − my whole life I've been trying to be someone I'm not −" He finally replied, his betrothed's fingers grasping his hand and squeezing it.
"− that's what I mean − stop pretending − be honest with yourself −"
"− do you want me to be honest? − very well then − my mother has never asked my opinion on any important matters − Daemon treats me as if I am an imbecile and mocks me − I am both a first-born son and a bastard − my uncle wants to deprive me of everything, he wants me to be a nobody and why? − because when I was a child I gave him a pig? − god, I regret it, it was a cruel joke − I regret that he lost an eye, I regret that a dragon didn't hatch from his egg − but even if I had said that, what good would it have done − he would have laughed at me saying I am a weak cunt −" He muttered and burst out sobbing like a small child, hiding his face in his hands. Baela embraced him and cuddled his face into her oil-scented neck, stroking his hair.
"− I am grateful to you − I am grateful to you that you are honest with me − I am grateful to you that you have never lied to me −" She whispered and he wept softly, tightening his hands on the material of her gown feeling that the closeness of her body brought him solace.
"− I am grateful to you too − forgive me for not being what you deserve −" He mumbled, sniffling loudly, trying to calm the convulsions of his body and his ragged breathing.
"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for your forgiveness −"
When his mother came to his chamber that evening, he knew what decision she had made even before she opened her mouth.
"− Jace −" She began, and he turned his head away, panting with rage, burning tears of humiliation under his eyelids.
"− after all this − after all you've sacrificed − are you going to let them win? −"
"− how would I be a just Queen if I thought only of myself instead of the good of the kingdom? − any other solution will mean war with our own kin − is there anything else more displeasing to the gods? −" She muttered in a breaking voice in which he could clearly hear that she herself was suffering immensely.
"− you let them dictate their terms −" He said in disbelief, looking at her at last. His mother pressed her lips together at his question.
"− no − I intend to impose my own demands on them – none of them will be allowed to sit on the throne − none of them will wear the crown − they will be rulers-regents until their son, the rightful heir, is born −" She replied, forcing herself to be calm.
"− and if no son is born to them? − will you exclude me from the succession then? − your first-born son? −" He mumbled in pain, hitting his chest with his palm. Rhaenyra drew in air loudly, her eyes red from tears of pain and grief.
"− it's my fault − not yours − me and Laenor really tried, but −"
"− I don't want to hear it − I won't listen to it − why did you let me come into the world? −"
"− Jace −" She mumbled − he heard the rustling of her gown as she took a step towards him, but he held up his hand showing that he didn't want her to come near him.
"− I will leave Dragonstone to you − it belongs to me and I can give it to whomever I wish − no one will challenge your rights in this case, you will finally be able to live the life you deserve −"
"− I was meant to be King −" He hissed, and she swallowed hard.
"− as was I − but perhaps we are not meant to be − pride steps before a fall −" She said drily, her chin lifted high.
"− what does Daemon have to say in the matter? −" He asked lowly.
"− he is furious, but he will do as I command − just as you −"
#jace pov#jahaerys targaryen#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond#aemond one eye#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#hotd fanfic#hotd#hotd fanfiction#hotd fic#aemond fanfic#aemond smut#aemond angst#hotd angst#hotd smut#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#canon aemond#house of the dragon#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell smut#ewan mitchell angst#ewan mitchell fanfic#aemond x oc#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
If The Sun Ever Rises | Chapter 4
Chapter 4 | Right Where You Left Me
SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.
Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.
WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY; Slow burn, I think?
WORD COUNT | 3.4k
Text Divider by @saradika-graphics
The days passed by in a quiet, green haze.
The cave where she had been made to stay shouldn’t have provided her with as much solitude as it did, given her circumstances. But with each passing moment, she found herself healing, growing stronger, and seeing as clearly as the blue sapphire that now haunted her dreams. She embraced the quietness of it all, allowing her situation to wash over her as she came to terms with it.
She had run, and she hadn’t made it. The claw marks and gashes all over her form were definite proof. In these last few days, she had been too weak to move. She felt pain with every weak movement in her limbs, ensuring her captivity for a longer period of time. But in the time that had passed as she recovered, one thing was constant.
The nightmares, and him.
Night after night, she found herself ensnared in a labyrinth of nightmares, each more vivid and terrifying than the last. In the darkness of her dreams, the snarling beast lurked, its eyes gleaming with malice as it bore down upon her with relentless fury. She would awaken with a start, her heart pounding against her chest as she gasped for air, drenched in cold sweat. The cave around her offered no solace, its walls closing in like the jaws of the predator she’d been trying to escape in her dreams.
In her tired state of mind, she thought she had imagined his warm palm on her forehead, checking for a fever. Had she imagined his mumbled Valyrian whispers too? Ēdrugon sȳrī, mandianna, she had heard, his voice as mellifluous as the calm waters of the stream outside. [Sleep well, niece.]
She had always loved listening to him speak.
At first, his presence was a comfort, his soothing words a balm to her frayed nerves. He would speak to her in hushed tones, murmuring smooth Valyrian into her ears as she struggled to comprehend the light touch of his moving lips on her skin. And when words failed, he would hold her close, his arms a sanctuary against the dreams that threatened to consume her.
Nyke paktot kesīr, he would say. Ao sagon rūsīr issa. [I’m here now… you’re with me.]
But as the nights wore on, confusion crept into her heart, clouding her thoughts like a dense fog. His touch, once a source of uninhibited, fanciful love, now stirred something unfamiliar within her, a longing and heaviness that she could not name. She would lie awake, breathing and panting in the silence of the cave, her mind awash with questions that had no answers.
Was it his gentle touch that set her soul ablaze, or was it merely the anger at being ripped away from her beloved in the middle of the night? How did it come to this? How did he end up becoming the very safety that she sought to gain by running far and away from him? She could not say, and so she clung to him like a lifeline, seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace. What else could she do?
Those were the thoughts that consumed her as she sat up, her body sore as she grunted in pain. She sat up for the first time in what she assumed could only be days, and managed to stand up too. She braced herself with a hand on the slippery cave wall, her eyes landing on the mountain of discarded bandages - covered presumably in her own blood.
She closed her eyes shut and tried to get a grip on her surroundings once more - it seemed that no matter how many times she had tried, she couldn’t come to terms with being brought to the jungle by a man who made her heart rush to wherever he touched her - no matter his intentions to hurt her family.
Are you ashamed of me, mother? For wanting him despite it all? For never stopping?
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, determined to wrestle back control from the haunting memories that threatened to take her for all she was worth. At first, all she could hear were the echoes of that harrowing encounter - the guttural snarls of the boar and the piercing screams - both his and hers - that tore through the air.
No, no, no.
But she refused to let fear hold her captive any longer. Slowly, she forced her mind to shift its focus, reaching beyond the darkness that threatened to suffocate her. Gradually, the noises of her nightmares began to fade, replaced by the gentle sounds of the forest - the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the melodious chirping of birds, and the soothing murmur of the stream of water trickling nearby. Before she knew it, the water had called to her and she walked slowly before stepping inside.
The sting of the wounds from initial contact faded and gave way to a relaxing sensation that made her skin tingle. Her shift billowed in the water, and she let herself breathe before she lifted her head up to breathe. She kept up these motions until she raised her head up to find that Aemond had come back, from wherever he’d gone. His presence, though familiar, sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through her veins, stirring something deep within her.
His expression was one that she knew all too well; there was no mistaking the lust in his eyes as they simply stared at each other, unmoving. In the calmness of her mind, it was easy to forget the weight of their shared history, to lose herself in the fantasy of a time long before the war had torn them apart. Every stolen kiss, every tender touch—it all rushed back to her in a dizzying whirlwind of emotion, threatening to consume her with its intensity.
If she were to beckon him to her right now, would he come? Should she?
The question lingered in the air, heavy with anticipation and uncertainty. But before she could find the words to speak, he was the first to look away, breaking the spell that had held them captive. With a heavy sigh, she watched as he turned away, the distance between them stretching like an unbridgeable chasm. And in that bittersweet moment, she knew that some things were better left unsaid, some desires left unfulfilled. For as much as she yearned for his touch, she also knew the pain that lay in its wake—the shattered dreams, the broken promises.
One moment she wanted to see him die, and the next, her heart would tear itself apart with how much it wanted him. She hated this, not knowing how she felt about him.
But didn’t she?
He set up a fire and sat on a log, staring into the fire like it held all the answers. What did he hope to see?
When the water went from being calming to making her feel cold, she stepped out, damp clothes sticking to her form as she walked, resembling a Goddess come to life. She took her seat next to him, hugging her knees tight as she leaned forward to take in the warmth. She breathed in the smoky smell of the fire, goosebumps rising from the heat of the fire and his gaze, now focused on her.
“How long do you plan on keeping me here, uncle?”
Winterfell was beginning to feel less like a foreign land and more like a place she could learn to love and call home.
She had taken her time familiarizing herself with every nook and corner without intruding on what she wasn’t meant to see in her capacity as a guest. If the war ends in her mother’s favor, she knows she’ll soon be Lady of this castle - no longer a guest. She had walked around the gardens, taken her time with the Godswood, gone down to visit the kitchens, and strolled on the grounds countless times. She had made friends, people she loved to speak to and smile at every day; those who made this uncertain time much more bearable as she tried to push horrid thoughts about her family at war to the back of her mind.
And him.
Finding no answers to her confusions as to why Aemond would draw first blood by killing the brother of the woman he loved, her mind raced much too fast for her convenience. She knew why, though, deep down. She simply refused to believe it.
Believing it would mean coming to terms with the fact that he had given up on her. On them.
While she chose not to trust her mind, her heart was a lot more fickle. Lord Stark had been perfectly gracious and treated her with all the gentleness worthy of a Princess and a future wife. It was a calmer, happier, and much less doubtful relationship than the one she had with Aemond. It was steady, and it was hers now.
This would all be hers. Lord Stark would rule the Keep, and she would rule him. He was hers, and he made sure she had no doubts about the same.
The thought did not make her feel as bad as it used to. This would be her way of moving on with her life and doing her part to ensure her mother’s victory. Cregan brought her a satisfaction of doing things right that Aemond did not. She never had to doubt him or herself with this man. Lighter feelings of infatuation clouded her mind as she walked to the library, her purposeful stride taking her to where her future husband sat.
The scent of old parchment hung heavy in the air as she found herself closer to where he was, mingling with the subtle aroma of beeswax polish that adorned the wooden tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. At the heart of the library stood a grand fireplace, its crackling flames casting a warm glow that bathed the room in a soft, golden light. And right next to it, he sat in a wooden chair, elbow on the armrest as he held his face up by the chin. He looked worse for wear and dejected, and it pained her to see.
What was it about her that she only ever ended up with men who chose to brood like there was no tomorrow?
She stood by the arch, leaning to the side as she debated disturbing him when he seemed like he’d much rather be left alone. As she decided to step out and read while waiting for him to come out on his own accord, she heard his heavy voice call after her.
“Princess.”
“My lord.” She couldn’t possibly leave now, so she walked in, steps as quiet as the man himself. She took to standing in front of him, her figure forming a dark silhouette as she blocked the hearth from his view. He leaned forward and took her hands in his, and she was startled by how huge they were in comparison to hers. Aemond’s hands were beautiful in an obviously otherworldly Targaryen way, with nimble, dexterous fingers; Cregan’s were unabashedly huge and well-worked yet warm, just like him.
She would learn to stop comparing them soon. It would not be long. Damned mind and heart, forever at war.
He’d had to execute a Night’s Watch deserter today - the Northerners pass their own sentences, she’d been told. “I heard you’ve had a taxing day. I thought I’d…” It seemed silly to her now to think her presence would lighten him up given the circumstances. She turned to look at the path she’d walked through, nervous at her thoughts of inadequacy as she thought of a suitable excuse to walk away without feeling embarrassed. But it seemed that there was no need.
“I killed a man today. Swung Ice heavy and clean into his neck… and now, I hold the most beautiful woman in the realm with the very same hands.” He talked as though he was speaking to himself rather than her - there was a certain absent-mindedness about him that endeared him to her - or was it his way of showing that his mind was preoccupied?
“Aye, good fortune is shining upon me.”
She smiled, never considering that her presence could bring about that level of comfort to a man who seemed much more put together than she. Her gaze was half-lidded as she looked down at him, his head leaning forward to rest his forehead upon their conjoined hands.
“What’s it like?” She regretted the words immediately after they tumbled out, knowing very well that she was throwing into his face the very subject that he probably wished to forget.
“Do you really want to know? It is a topic unsuited for a woman of your gentle nature, Princess.”
“If you want to speak, I want to listen.”
She did not miss his somber smile, making it clear to her that he appreciated her company more than he let on - for now, that was enough. “When men pledge themselves to the Night’s Watch, it is an oath for life. It is a matter of keeping your word, of honor. And when you’ve proved that your word means little and less, you’ve disrespected those you swore to protect. When this happens… as their liege lord, it is my place to punish them for it. It is not something I take pride in, but it needs to be done. One cannot put off justice for too long. Never.”
“Does it always have to be you swinging the sword?”
“Aye. ‘Tis only respectful to the man losing his life, regardless of his fallacies.”
She nodded, understanding his reasoning, and grateful that he’d seen fit to let her understand. Most would dismiss her, saying it did not fall under a lady’s purview - but he didn’t, and she appreciated that more than he knew.
For a moment, they stayed together in silence. He only got warmer with each passing moment, a feeling of comfort in the cold air that she’d grown accustomed to. “I am grateful… that it’s you,” she said. She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve by saying it, but she did anyway.
“I’m glad you’re happier, Princess. I…” She found doubt in his eyes as he debated whether or not to say the words, but she wordlessly encouraged him to go ahead by squeezing his hands in her hold. “Your brother told me that your loyalties are… divided; that you will need time to accept me. I am glad that you are.”
She tensed at the mention of her affections for Aemond, but she was quick to let it pass. She would not entertain her heart’s pull towards the man who killed her brother - she would not. Here sat a good man with the patience of a maester - she would learn to be worthy of his affections.
Almost as though he sensed her train of thought, he pulled her right back to where he was. “Princess?”
She smiled, a tired smile of resignation as she found herself grateful at the hand she’d been dealt. A time of war, where well-bred men were turned into murderers - and somehow, the Gods saw fit to give this good man to her. She was thankful, and by the Gods, she would learn to love him well.
“I’m happy too.”
“How long do you plan on keeping me here, uncle?”
She refused to look at him. Her eyes were trained on the fire, the blaze blinding her for a moment until she turned to look the other way to escape the heat-induced tears in her eyes. She felt the dampness of her form and clothes dissipate with each passing moment, and she let her throat bob as she allowed herself to calm down.
“As long as it takes.” His voice was devoid of any emotion at all, and she was struck by how hard it was for her to read him through his words - it wasn’t like this before. She used to be able to make out his emotions from the simplest of words or noises, but now it was as though she was made to face a stranger. But then again, she didn’t know this man. The Aemond she knew and loved was not battle-tested and war-worn; he was a scholarly achiever who took more pride in himself than his spoils. How could she understand him if she did not know him at all?
“And you see no other way to exact revenge? He’s…” The weight of her words overwhelmed her, and she could not bring herself to complete the sentence.. Here she was, abducted at night from where her mother thought she’d be safe, by the man whom she once upon a time believed would protect her - eventually, both Winterfell and Aemond had led to her current state.
“The war is over, uncle. The realm is slowly getting back up and the lords are working towards peace once more. Must you truly be so vengeful? Undo all the work that is being done?” The anger and tension was palpable, with her not being able to contain herself. The more she spoke, the more she knew that all of what he did was unnecessary - but then again, this entire Dance was unnecessary, was it not? “Cregan is good to me. He’s a good man and he cares about Westeros, he cares about making Aegon a worthy King despite all the poor child has been through-”
“No amount of goodness can change the fact that Cregan Stark did not pledge allegiance to the rightful king.”
“The rightful king? Grandfather declared my mother the rightful heir long before Aegon was even born -”
“Before he was born! When he was born, she lost every right to the Iron Throne. A much more sensible woman would have stepped away, but my sweet sister -”
“It was HER RIGHT!”
“It was never hers and it was certainly not yours or your bastard brothers' to claim!” With words exchanged and thrown at each other like weapons, her hands had been animatedly moving about as was her habit. But she froze at those last words. She knew very well that he had too, if the sudden hitching of his breath was any indication.
He wouldn’t apologize, that much she knew. He was much too proud and condescending about his otherworldly and striking Targaryen features to apologize to her - for she knew very well what she was, even if nobody else would openly admit to it.
A bastard.
Her mind was a mess as she looked at him, at a loss for words. The spell had shifted, they weren’t bickering as they used to any longer. In the silence, a moment suspended in time, she looked at him - really, truly, looked.
And there sat a boy. Not a battle-tested man who was now a hidden fugitive, but a boy. The boy that she’d known and loved. How much longer could they possibly hold on to grudges that neither had inflicted upon each other? The war had broken them, gotten them to drift apart - but where did it end?
Her heart ached as she beheld him, recognizing the boy she had once known beneath the bitterness and resentment that time and circumstance had piled upon him. The lines etched into his face told stories of battles fought and losses endured, but his eyes betrayed the weariness of a soul weighed down by burdens too heavy to bear alone.
He was tired.
He was depressed, hungry for revenge and angry, but in close vicinity, as her hand reached up to let her fingertips graze over his eyepatch, she could not help but think. This was her Aemond. She’d waited for him to take her away, and in a cruel twist of fate, they ended up here.
In the dim glow of twilight, her voice, a tantalizing whisper, wrapped around him like a spell. "I haven't ever seen you without your eyepatch. You never let me." Each word, a delicate lure, tugged at something deep within her; a longing that she had never quite moved on from, but scarcely dared to acknowledge in her time away from him.
If she leaned in just a bit more, she could kiss him. Would it be wrong to? Did he want her to? What was he thinking?
His hand closed around her wrist, holding her delicate touch in place over his concealed eye. With a weary exhale, he released a breath burdened with the weight of countless battles, etched into the lines of his weathered face.
How had she gone this far without him?
Before she let her fleetingly powerful feelings take over her, she closed her eyes and walked away. In the distance, a lone wolf's mournful howl pierced the tranquil stillness of the forest, making for a haunting melody.
NO TAG LIST. Follow @randomdragonfics and turn on post notifs for fic updates!
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen smut#ewan mitchell#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond smut#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen fic#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond fanfiction#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond targaryen x ofc#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen fan fiction#aemond fic#aemond#pro aemond targaryen#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen fanfiction#fic recs
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just a quick sketch I managed to do before work today. I'm always amazed how Ewan can look like a serial killer from horror movies from one angle, but also like the cutest man alive from another angle 😅 Love that duality; he was born to play complex characters! And he has intrigued us all with that line 😈
I’ve also changed his outfit a bit - it looked like he needed a cigarette and to undo a few buttons on his shirt 😙🔥
#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen#fan art#aemond#hotd aemond#house of the dragon#ewan mitchell fandom#ewan nation
121 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't Mess With My Mind Alternate Ending!!
Summary:
A darker alternate ending to Don't Mess With My Mind!!
AEMOND POV
Warning(s): Angst, Language, Hurt, Comfort, Drugs, Alcohol Consumption, Manipulation, Mentions Of Cheating, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), Unprotected P in V Sex, Confrontation, Violence.
Word Count: 2173
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
MODERN AU - AEMOND x Y/N - AEGON x Y/N
Inspired by the song: EMO - Don't Mess With My Mind.
Tag List: @immyowndefender, @zenka69, @iloveallmyboys, @summerposie, @namelesslosers, @dixie-elocin, @aemondsfavouritebastard, @toodlesxcuddles, @ammo23
Aemond was always the diligent and hardworking one, who poured his soul into his studies and career, striving for recognition and validation. Yet, despite his relentless efforts, he seemed to be forever overshadowed by Aegon.
While Aemond would often burn the midnight oil, Aegon indulged in the pleasures of life without a care in the world. His days were filled with revelry, his nights with debauchery. He floated through life with an effortless charm, surrounded by a constant whirlwind of parties, alcohol, and questionable women.
Aemond couldn't help but resent his brother's seemingly effortless success. It gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the injustice of the world. How could Aegon achieve so much with so little effort, while he, Aemond, struggled to make even a dent in the world?
Their relationship was strained, a simmering pot of jealousy and bitterness. Aemond harboured a deep-seated resentment towards Aegon, unable to shake the feeling of inadequacy that his brother's existence seemed to impose upon him.
Yet, beneath the layers of resentment and bitterness, Aemond couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that gripped his heart, his brother was free do to as he pleased without suffering the consequences.
Aemond was the responsible one the one who was expected to look after Aegon, the one who everyone relied on.
He was sick of it; he was sick of it all.
Aegon always got everything he wanted whereas Aemond was left with the scraps.
Even their own mother was blind to her precious darlings indulgences, content to look the other way whilst Aemond cleaned up after him.
Aemond remembered the first time Aegon brought Y.N back to their flat, she was such a timid little thing, almost like a mouse, not his brothers usual type at all.
But there was something about the way her eyes would light up when she smiled or the way she would bite her lower lip whenever she was reading.
It drove Aemond to distraction, never had he been so enamoured with anyone, not even his older ex-girlfriend who admittedly sucked his cock like a pro.
There were times when he would catch her looking at him wistfully from across the room and he would always wonder what she was thinking in that moment.
One day he caught her coming out of the shower with nothing, but a towel wrapped around her body and his cock responded in earnest.
That was the night he brought some big titted bimbo back to the flat, he closed his eye as he fucked her roughly from behind, imagining that it was Y.N who was screaming his name and coming on his cock.
Another night he brought home some demure brown haired whisp of a woman, who he fucked into the mattress, his face pressed into her neck envisioning Y.N as he spilled into the condom.
The red head he brought home, now she was a freak. Never had any woman asked him to do anal on their first go but he was more than happy to oblige, he even invited her back for another go, but she began to get a bit clingy afterwards and he had to bin her off before she got worse.
He even resorted to seeing Alys again in between his slut phase, he would go to her flat and listen to her harp on about stuff he really didn’t give two shits about, then he would bend her over whatever surface was the closet and fuck her hard.
But nothing compared to Y.N.
He was a man possessed; no other woman could satisfy the deep longing he felt, and sometimes his cock would only get hard if he fantasized about Y.N.
Some nights he would hear Aegon fucking her, his brothers groans of pleasure sickening him to his stomach as he never once heard any of hers.
A woman like that deserved to be worshipped, she was a kindred spirit that needed releasing from the prison of his brother’s lacklustre affection.
He couldn’t sit idle anymore, he had to do something, he wanted Y.N and he was determined to get her, by any means necessary.
He just needed his brother out of the way first.
Aemond really did have to thank Sara the next time he saw her, his plan had worked out perfectly.
Initially she had been hesitant to agree, but the generous cash donation to fund her secret drug habit was more than enough.
It wasn’t too difficult to get hold of his brothers phone either to text Y.N and ask her to come over so she could catch his brother in the act.
Plying the wastrel with alcohol hadn’t been too difficult either.
Admittedly his arrival with Alys had been purely coincidental, but it worked out perfectly, nonetheless.
After he had sent Alys packing, he made his move.
Initially he had expected Y.N to be a bit more resistant to his offer, but she readily agreed and his cock responded in earnest.
The feeling of Y.N’s lips on his was better than anything he’d ever imagined, the noises she made when he devoured her pussy like a starving man would linger with him for the rest of his days.
He loved eating pussy, something his previous partners were ever grateful for, but nothing compared to Y.N’s she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.
Even the feel of her tight, wet heat wrapped around his cock was everything he’d ever dreamt of, he never wanted to be anywhere else, and, in all honesty, he had never come so hard in his life, rope and after rope of his seed, coated her insides and the sight of it dripping from her drove him feral with need.
There was a small part of him that had thought once he fucked her that would be it, his desire for the forbidden fruit would be sated and he could move on.
But it wasn’t, if anything it made him crave her even more.
He didn’t want to let her go, she was his own personal drug, he was addicted to her, and he would often indulge in his habit.
They would usually met up at her flat, she lived alone, so it was easier to fuck her over every surface and not worry about anyone walking in on them.
He was ravenous and unrestrained in his taking of her.
His little mouse would let him fuck her in anyway he wanted, it was as if she needed it as much as he did.
He would on occasion bring her back to his flat, careful of course of avoid Aegon, the idiot hadn’t realised that she’d caught him with Sara, and he would often complain that Y.N wasn’t responding to his calls or texts.
It gave Aemond a sick twisted sense of satisfaction after his brother would lament his lost relationship and then Aemond would proceed to fuck Y.N in the next room.
Once he had her pressed against his door with his cock deep inside her as his brother was on the other side complaining that he was making too much noise.
Gods how hard he fucked her that day, her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her.
His loud groans of pleasure echoing around his room.
He even dared to fuck her in Aegon's bed once, initally she had been hesitant but he feasted on her delicious cunny until she could no longer stand and he had pressed her face into the mattress, digging his fingers into the flesh of her hips as he thrust his cock inside her.
The day he realised that he was completely in love with her was when they were laid naked with one another, their sweaty limbs entwined as she leaned over and pressed a series of gentle kisses to the scarred side of his face.
She called him beautiful, and she made him feel special, he never wanted to let her go.
However, his glee over successfully getting the girl was short lived, when he was cornered by Aegon one day, his brother was elated that Y.N had seemingly agreed to come over and talk.
Aemond was livid, she belonged to him, and he would not have her getting back with his cunt of a brother.
As it turns out Aegon had promised Y.N that he had given up drinking and was attending regular A.A meetings, which was a blatant lie. The stupid twat actually thought that was the reason why she’d ended things.
So, in order to stir up a bit of trouble, Aemond periodically spiked his brother’s drink with vodka throughout the day and when Y.N finally came over, Aegon was passed out in his room.
Of course, he was there to provide comfort and inevitably Y.N fell back into his arms.
In order to ensure Y.N and Aegon did not in fact get back together, Aemond began poking holes in the condoms they used and in retrospect it was a bit drastic, but he was desperate.
After everything he’d done to get her, he wasn’t going to lose her now.
So, he made every effort to fuck Y.N as often as he could, sometimes he even managed to fuck her raw a number of times.
Eventually she came to him in tears and told him she was pregnant.
He pretends to act shocked at first but then he embraced her and promised to support her in every way he could.
Y.N decided to keep the baby and Aemond decided it was for the best that they move in together, which would mean revealing their relationship to Aegon.
Aemond relished in Aegon’s horror when he found out, they even got into a fist fight, but as Aegon spent most of his days drinking he was no match for Aemond who looked after himself with regular work outs and a proper diet.
Y.N begged them to stop acting like children, she screamed at Aegon about his cheating and then she fled the flat in floods of tears.
Aemond chased after her, and spent over an hour at her door pleading to be let in before she eventually caved and let him in.
He spent the night fucking her into exhaustion, not wanting to leave the warmth of her body.
She was his home, his escape and he was determined to keep her.
He moved in with her not to long after that, his mother was furious, and she raged at him for hours on the phone until he hung up on her.
Of course, Aegon had gone crying to mummy but there was nothing either of them could do now that he’d finally got what he wanted.
He’d got the girl and now she was carrying his child, the only thing left to do was make her his forever and ask her to marry him.
Which he did and Y.N happily accepted; she wept tears of joy as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Their wedding was small and elegant, Aemond couldn’t stop smiling as Y.N walked towards him, she looked spectacular in her dress, and he couldn’t wait to tear it from her body later that night.
Aegon had brought along a date, but he never once offered her any attention besides the odd grunt here and there.
Aemond delighted in the forlorn look in his brother’s eyes as he watched the ceremony.
His wedding night was bliss, he spent the night worshipping his wife’s body, marvelling at her stomach swollen with his child.
Yes, HIS child. HIS seed. HIS legacy.
He couldn’t wait to taste his wife’s mothers milk; he knew she would be a fantastic mother.
As the pregnancy progressed, Aemond was the perfect partner, rubbing her aching back and swollen ankles.
Life was perfect, and not even the reappearance of Alys could dampen his mood, as he bumped into her one day whilst he was picking up Y.N’s favourite pastries.
His ex tried to tempt him, but he declined and relished the look on her face when he confirmed that he was a happily married man with a child on the way.
He certainly hadn’t put all that effort in to claim Y.N as his, only to have someone like Alys try to ruin it for him.
So, he walked away and never gave her a backwards glance.
Aemond had a lot of days in his life that he believed were some of the best in his existence, but the day his daughter was born surpassed them all.
As he held her in his arms, everything he had done to get to this moment had been worth it.
He once contemplated telling Y.N the truth, but he eventually decided against it, as he couldn’t risk her leaving him.
No, he would keep it too himself and live his life with Y.N, their daughter and any other children they would be blessed with in the future.
Of course, one wasn’t enough and as soon as his sweet wife was sufficiently healed, he would wait patiently for her to welcome him into her body again and he would fill her with his seed.
He would ensure she was dripping with him, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before they welcomed another child.
His pretty perfect girl. His little mouse. HIS wife. HIS. HIS. HIS.
FOREVER!!
A.N - This was actually the original ending to the series, but it didn't feel right, so I ended up changing it.
I do prefer how I did end the series and releasing this was just a bit of fun and to see what the readers would think and which ending you guys preferred?
Many Thanks :-)
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#hotd fanfic#aemond fic#hotd fic#aemond one eye#aemond#aemond smut#aemond x reader
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
prince aemond targaryen x gilded lily - cults.
#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#aemond the kinslayer#house#house of the dragon#hotd#got#game of#game of thrones#mine
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aemond killing off House Strong like:
#house of the dragon#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#house targaryen#hotd season 2#hotd#hotd s2#asoiaf#got#hotd meme#prince regent aemond#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#hotd aemond
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love, Peace, and War
[requested : @immyowndefender]
“Will you do one where reader lives and shoves both Alys and Aemond into a burning pyre along with the rest of kingslanding or at least one where she makes Aemond her bitch?”
Whispers of another woman keeping his bed warm have swarmed y/n since he left for Harrenhal. He had supposedly missed her, she now believes it to be simply guilt, coming home despite orders from his king and making love to her until the early morn. Something had seemed off that night, and she wanted to question it, but she was simply happy to have her love back in her arms. However, now he seems to only be trouble. Both of their sons lie dead and wrapped in the finest cloth on a pyre. Vhagar rumbled from her perch, seemingly annoyed. Y/n took one last look at her boys and looked Aemond in the eye with a depressed rage. He only looked at her with remorse. For their sons? For possibly ruining her by sleeping with another woman? She didn’t know, nor did she care.
“Dracarys”, he spoke loudly to Vhagar. Warmth kissed y/n’s cheeks, almost drying her tear stains. “Goodbye my little dragons, protect each other, my strong boys”, she whispered. Y/n turned and walked to her horse, not acknowledging Aemond or his family. When they traveled back to King’s Landing, y/n rushed to her chambers with her maids in tow. “Lyliana, fetch some wine. I’d also like a bath.” Both girls got to work, Lyliana fetching the wine and Alessandra starting to warm some water. Y/n glanced to her bed and saw a plush toy shaped like a dragon sitting next to her pillows. She can’t cry anymore, she’d lost all of her tears. “Shall I help you undress, your grace?”, Lyliana asked softly, knowingly.
Y/n nodded and proceeded to be undressed with delicacy. Sitting in her shift, both girls started to braid her hair and wrap it like a crown to not get it wet. Y/n asked, “Do you think they’re alright?” The girls glanced between one another, Lyliana answered, “They have each other, your grace, that is all we could hope for.” Y/n nodded and stood. The water was warm, something she needed after a while. Her muscles had been tense after what she’d been through. “I will fetch more oils, your grace”, Lyliana spoke after looking at the selection. Alessandra spoke quietly, “I lost my boy in the fall”, she paused her words and focused on scrubbing the dried blood missed from under the princess’s fingernails. “What did he look like?”, y/n asked. “He had these big brown eyes that were so curious of what was happening around him. He barely stayed asleep, I believe he thought he would miss something”, she smiled with a small laugh, “His hair was black like his father’s and thick. He had this freckle under his chin too. My mother always told me freckles were angel kisses.” Y/n and Alessandra sat in a comfortable silence, only the water could be heard.
Lyliana returned with the oils and assisted in finishing the princess’s bath. When she had emerged from the water, there was a knock at the door. Lyliana answered the door only through a crack, as y/n was in a state of undress still. “Prince Aemond”, she bowed, “Your wife isn’t dressed yet and doesn’t wish for any visitors.” Aemond didn’t listen and entered the room, “Y/n.” “Ladies, you may go for the night”, y/n released the girls, having now been dressed in her nightclothes. She looked at Aemond standing in the middle of the room. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I am the reason our sons are gone. I just- I can’t have you not speaking or even looking at me anymore.”
She poured herself some wine and sat in a chair, “That is what we are doing now, isn’t it?”
Aemond got on his knees at her feet and placed his arms around the small of her back, “Y/n please, you do not have to forgive me, but please don’t do this.” He buried his face into her thighs.
Y/n looked at her cup, not once acknowledging his proximity, “How’s Alys?”
Aemond raised his head, “What?”
“The girl from Harrenhal. What did they say she was? Some wet nurse to her brother?”
“How did yo-”
“I didn’t know you had a thing for bastards. Thought you always hated them, especially if their roots were from Harrenhal”, she paused for a drink, “Was she your spoil from war?”
Aemond brought his head up to look y/n in the eyes, “Tell me, Aemond, was she any good?”
He stood up now, stumbling over his words like a child caught. “Well?”
“No, she never could compare. I was so alone and lost, I-I lost myself to weakness. Please, my love, I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well you did.” A knock could be heard through the thick air, “Come in.”
A man who looked very much like the prince without the Targaryen features entered the room, “Your grace”, he bowed, “Your spoils.” A bag was handed to the princess, glancing inside she was hit with the stench of death. “You may go, Alfred.”
With her back to Aemond she stated, “A parting gift for you”, she turns and hands him the bag. “I will be going home for my brother’s coronation. I won’t be back.” She walks out of the room to the maester’s. Aemond slowly opened the bag and found Alys River’s head inside, devoid of color. He threw it, landing on a dresser, and poured himself some wine. His movement erratic, he didn’t know what to do, so he drank and went to the training yard to get his frustrations out. Y/n had traveled to Dragonstone before returning home. She spoke with Rhaenyra of how she was the true queen, and the world was lied to for a selfish man’s gain. How Delbore would support her claim if called upon. Then they spoke, not as queen and princess, enemies, or friends. They spoke of their sons, what she would do when she goes back home, and revenge.
Before she boarded the boat, she turned to Daemon and Rhaenyra, “Kill him. Make it painful.” She looked into Daemon’s eyes, and he nodded to her. She smiled softly and set sail for home, for peace. Her kingdom was never called upon.
The Targaryen’s had seemingly forgotten of the princess. Until one day, she sat in the gardens with her sister-in-law and queen of Delbore having tea. “Princess y/n, a letter has come for you”, a servant girl spoke like a mouse. “Thank you, dear”, y/n dismissed her. She noticed the black Targaryen seal on the scroll and took a deep breath. The queen placed a hand over hers and smiled gently. The words she had hoped to hear for months, almost a year now. Aemond is dead. In black ink, the details of how he had received his dues. Daemon had sacrificed his life in killing the prince, leaving him with a sword through his eye. Time went on and Targaryens died like flies. Y/n, however, flourished on Delbore Isle. She took another husband. A sturdy but soft man who loved her truly. He never left her side, even during the birth of their daughter. Y/n had finally found peace.
Taglist : @watercolorskyy
Masterlist
#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond the kinslayer#hotd aemond#aemond fic#aemond x reader#aemond x you#Aemond smut#Aemond brainrot#Aemond targaryen brainrot#aemond targaryen fanfic#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond targaryen fanfiction#prince aemond targaryen fanfiction#prince regent aemond targaryen#prince aemond targeryen fanfic#aemond x y/n#the one eyed prince
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
modern Aemond headcanons ⊹₊ ⋆
I HAD A VISION
this one is born to succeed
his either into fencing or calisthenic, possibly even both
listening to classical music while studying
and he’s studying a lot, may I add
also, he’s reading a lot too, is a slut for Dostoyevsky
Crime and Punishment has a special place in his heart…
enjoys self-help books for personal development
something like atomic habits, 48 laws of power etc.
wakes up early, follows a productive morning routine
admires Machiavelli and Johan Liebert
has led lights in his room
and as we are talking about his room let me say it’s immaculate
Aemond's a history buff
enjoys discussing politics and philosophy especially
the Borgia family intrigues him deeply
perfectionist in various aspects, well organised
not a fan of going to the cinema
either avoids social media entirely or has accounts but rarely use it
has his !emo boy! moments here and there
likes to play knife game
speaks more than one language for sure
write from time to time, usually some thoughtful essays
listens to $uicideboy$ and phonk when he feels super edgy
is stargazing in secret
actually he’s quite sweet if you get to know him more
but it’s hard to get to know him more… :(
he wishes for someone who would understand
his day is incomplete without unhealthy amounts of coffee
helping Aegon do his homework even though he’s younger
genuinely likes spending time with his mother, they talk a lot and go on coffee dates
frenemies with Luke...
has soft spot for Helaena, would do anything for his sis
drives Helaena to her therapy sessions, always, without fail and never complains about it
likes the idea of stoicism but lack the patience, gets a little bit to silly sometimes…
wearing black (well, isn’t that obvious?)
is rocking that adidas black set look
or dark leather jacket with straight pants…
his hair is his crown, he puts much effort into it even though he denies it
Aegon teases him about it without no end
favours Calvin Klein boxers, wears them on a daily basis
plus points if wearing cool rings
#hotd#hotd aemond#prince aemond#hotd headcanon#hotd headcanons#hotd helaena#hotd aegon#hotd alicent#house of the dragon#house of the dragon aemond#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#modern aemond#modern hotd#modern targaryen#house targaryen#aemond headcanons#aemond#prince aemond targaryen
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
#it will pass#lol#had to do this mene#thought about it right away when i saw these scene#aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd memes#hotd meme#aemond meme#house of the dragon meme#alicent meme#alicent
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Mother Knows No Bounds
prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader
technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 5.7k+
note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote
warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother.
descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?
please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content:
descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.
you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!
The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.
Women skinny dipped.
Children ran around without their clothes.
Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.
The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.
The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.
It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.
For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.
Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.
You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.
21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.
Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.
However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.
The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.
The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.
Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.
Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.
Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.
Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.
You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.
"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."
"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.
"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"
"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.
He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"I've asked you why."
"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."
"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.
"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."
Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."
"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."
Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."
"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.
"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.
"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.
"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."
You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."
You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.
When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"
"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."
"Mother, it's too hot for - "
"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.
"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."
"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "
"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."
Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."
So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.
Sweat bulleted on brows.
Pale cheeks flushed with heat.
Legs started to shake from stress.
Clothes dampened and clung to skin.
You were all of the above and then some!
The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.
Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.
Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.
Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.
This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."
"What 'bout the li'l one?"
"Pardon?" Otto blinked.
"The Queen's last son?"
"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.
Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...
"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."
"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.
"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."
"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.
"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."
Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.
The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.
"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."
"We're almost done - "
"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."
You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.
The hall was too hot.
Stifling hot.
Suffocatingly hot.
Stuffy sort of hot.
Overwhelmingly hot.
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!
Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!
So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!
However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.
"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"
But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.
"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"
"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.
"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"
"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.
"What happened?" Otto demanded.
"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."
"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."
"You saw the Grand Maester?"
"We did."
"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.
"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.
When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.
When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"
"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"
"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.
"Mother didn't demand you stay?"
"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."
"He was?"
"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.
When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.
The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.
He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.
You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.
Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.
"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.
"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."
"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.
"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."
Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."
With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."
"I-It was a girl?"
"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."
"But my body - "
"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."
"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"
Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."
"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."
"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."
When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."
"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"
"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"
"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"
"How was I to know - "
"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"
"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."
"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."
"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"
"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.
"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."
It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.
Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."
Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."
"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."
"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."
"Just lay with me," you requested.
He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."
"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"
"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."
Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."
"I do not deserve a woman like you."
"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"
His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."
A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.
You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.
You didn't move, staring into the flames.
Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.
King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.
For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.
requesting rules and masterlist
HOTD masterlist
#aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#hotd aemond#aemond the kinslayer#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen x f!reader#hotd#hotd imagine#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen angst
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Moonlight
Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader
Warnings: childbirth (no detailed description)
Summary: Aemond loves his little wife, so naturally, when you give birth to your first son, Aemond falls in love even deeper. However, when a simple refusal of his breaks your heart, it will be difficult for him to win you back.
It was hard to keep you close. You were much like Aemond, a true fighter. You had a fire in you which couldn't be questioned. A fire towards him, pure love. And now, fire towards your son.
Aeren was only born a week ago, yet you protected him fiercely like a dragon.
And you refused to let the small child out of your hands.
When Aemond was allowed in the room, he saw the blood, he heard your screams and many times, he wanted to barge in but he knew he couldn't.
So, once he was allowed in, someone informed him that it was a boy and that you were in bad shape.
Aemond could see it, you looked beyond tired, yet you smiled.
But your smile didn't last long.
Aemond refused to hold his son.
"Give him to me." he heard your voice as he looked from the woman holding his son to you. You looked angry. Way too angry.
It was too late when Aemond realised what he had just done.
He refused to hold his own child.
And since then, you didn't speak a word to him.
You slept in a different room with your baby, sometimes, late at night, he heard the cries. He wanted to get up and go to you but he couldn't, his guilt was overbearing.
"You should put a leash on her, brother. If I had a wife like that, she wouldn't be sleeping in another room." Aegon taunted his brother daily.
One day, you were in the gardens, walking with your son in your arms when Aegon spoke up.
Aemond never heard his brother speak with such longing.
"I truly wish she was mine."
Aemond looked at his brother who was watching you.
"But she's mine." was his simple and firm reply.
But you truly weren't.
You used to be, now, you just sat next to him during dinners.
One night, you excused yourself, and he followed you.
In an empty corridor, he spoke up.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he knew why. He very well knew why.
"I'm sorry, My Prince." you turned and looked at him. "I believe you are mistaken. I'm not avoiding you, I just hate to see the disappointment on your face." this surprised Aemond. "I gave birth to a child you refused to even look at. I loved you, Prince Aemond, I truly did. But I love my child more. And if you cannot look at him, you won't get to look at me. Fill your bed with whores for all I care. Goodnight."
"You are mistaken." he said, not letting you leave, but you did grab the handle. "You-You were in that bed, crying, screaming and bleeding for hours. I couldn't do anything. And when they let me in, the blood... so much... they told me you were weak, you survived but you needed a lot of rest. How-How could I hold my child when the love of my life almost died? How could I look at him when I was worried to even look at you? I feared you would die giving birth. I was shaking. I feared losing you and my child. That is why I didn't hold him. I was scared." you stood there, your hand on the door, you looked away from his eyes.
"Then you could have just fucking say so, Aemond! For fucks sake!"
"That is not very lady-like."
"FUCK lady-like, you made me believe you hate me and our son! I believed I disappointed you since you wanted a daughter."
"I said I would be happy either way. My emphasis was on a girl because I feared if you had a daughter, you would see that as disappointing my bloodline."
"You are fucking terrible at communicating." you opened the door and walked into the huge room in which you stayed the last couple of weeks.
Aemond followed you, and watched as you walked over to the small bed and picked up your son. "Next time, you should just tell me. Letting me assume things clearly don't work out."
"Of course." a small smile found its way onto his lips, next time, it was the promise of a future, a promise of more, something he could work towards. He walked over to you after closing the door. "I wish to hold him." you handed him the small child who didn't even stir in his sleep. "Aeren you named him I recall." Aemond's attention was now fully on his son as you decided to leave the two alone after watching them for a couple of minutes.
You got changed and when you arrived back, Aemond was sitting on the bed, his son on his chest.
"Some nights I heard his cries. It broke my heart but I broke yours far more. I apologise for not being clear and for causing you pain. I am truly sorry."
"I'm sorry as well. I should have asked." you said as you sat down next to him. "I will have to feed him soon."
"I will stay here with you."
You smiled as the moon shined through the window, illuminating the room a little more, helping the fire so you could see your husband's face.
"I love you so much Aemond."
"I love you too, My Queen." you giggled, moving closer to him as he leaned down to kiss you.
You two kissed in the moonlight until your son made it clear that he was hungry.
It all made you look towards a better future.
Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
#aemond#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen imagines#fanfiction#x reader#x female reader#aemond x you#aemond targaryen fic#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon imagines#house of the dragon x reader#game of thrones imagines#game of thrones#game of thrones au#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x you#house of the dragon aemond#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon aemond x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweet Nectar // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader
Summary: Aemond feels ever so slightly jealous when he watches his wife feed their babe, he'll have a taste for himself tonight.
WARNINGS: mdni, afab!reader, lactation kink, breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, reader is already a mom, breastfeeding, aemond craving the good old tiddy milk, tiddy sucking, teasing, biting, nipple play, aemond is so down bad for the milkers. + not proofread.
WC: 2,078
A/N: I suddenly got the urge to write this I'm not kidding 😭😭 // diviver credits to @cafekitsune
You coo softly while gently rocking back and forth as the small babe in your arms begins getting fussy in between your arms, you pat her gently and reassure the fussy babe, while caressing her cheek.
“Are you hungry, my dear?” You ask her as if she'll respond verbally, a small croak leaves her throat before she coos, stretching her tiny arms and placing it upon your breast as a way to answer your question. You chuckle at her action before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Shall I take her to the nursemaid, princess?” The maidservant allotted to you questions, putting your comfort as a first priority, you shake your head, “No need, I shall feed the babe myself.” You reject her politely, “Can you undo the lace?” You ask her, and she nods, her fingers making quick work of the lace that's holding the top of your gown together, you pull the material down — along with your chemise — just enough for one of your breasts to be exposed but cover everything else.
You hold the baby in a feeding position, and she immediately latches onto your nipple, suckling as she makes soft satisfied noises, as her hunger is being satiated. You giggle at her cuteness and watch as she closes her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.
The door to your shared chamber opens and you lift your head up to see Aemond, carrying a bunch of scrolls and books in his hands, he sets them down on the nearby table before turning his attention to you. “My prince.” the maidservant greets and Aemond nods, “Prepare a bowl of water and a rag, after that, leave us alone.” He commands her and she bows, swiftly beginning to do what she's been told. After the maid leaves the bowl and leaves, Aemond quickly begins to retire for the night, undressing himself, usually, he would call in a manservant or you would help him, but he cannot call the manservant when you're breastfeeding, and neither can you help him because of that.
So he does it himself, after undoing his upper garment, he wears nothing but his white plain transparent tunic and breeches ; that are more suited for sleepwear, loose and thin. Aemond later washes his hands and forearms thoroughly, ridding them of any kind of dirt before making his way to you.
“How was your day, Husband?” You ask him, watching as he comes near and stands next to you, staring at you for a second before sitting down beside you. “Hm, t'was decent, what about you?” He asks you, his gaze dropping down to your chest. “It was good, I did not wish to partake in any social meetings today, but rather decided to spend it with her.” You look down at your child who is now sleeping. Aemond hums before he lays his head on your shoulder getting comfortable in your presence enough to express his desires.
“I want to have my wife tonight.” He mutters, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck as his gaze remains fixated on your chest while he rests his hand on your thigh, slowly drawing imaginary patterns on it, indicating what he wants. Your face heats up at his implications, “You will, husband, let me call the servant and have her taken to the nursery for tonight.” You reply to him, slowly pulling her away from your breast and covering yourself up.
“I will call for the servant.” He offers, hoping to help you out and you nod, he opens the chamber door stepping out and turning to the guard before asking the guard to fetch a servant, to which he immediately obeys and goes to get one. Aemond gets inside, making his way over to you before he takes your child from you and hands her over to the servant who had entered the room just then. “Take care of her for the night in the nursery, should there be any news that she was hurt in any way, I will cut off all of your limbs.” He threatens to which the poor servant just nods her head in fear assuring him that no harm would occur to your child, and then she takes her away.
The door closes and Aemond secures it tightly so it doesn't open upon impact. And all the while Aemond was talking to the servant, you had quickly gotten undressed and were now sitting in your chemise, putting the gown that had fallen to the floor away.
Aemond goes straight to the bed and sits on it and you watch as he removes his eyepatch, placing it on the table next to the bed before he turns his attention to you. He looked so ethereal when he was staring at you, his sapphire glinted as the fire from the chambers reflected off from it. “Come.” He commands and you slowly make your way over to him, now standing in front of him.
He looks up at you the tension thick in the air as his eye is filled with pure desire for you. he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest and pulling you, this causes you to stumble and lose your balance which he takes as an advantage to pull you onto the bed with him, flipping you over and getting on top.
His hair curtains around your face as he stares at you, his eye moving back and forth between your own, taking in your beauty. You raise your hand and gently tuck his hair into his ear before caressing his cheek, “You're so beautiful.” You hear him say and you smile, “I could say the same about you, husband.” You respond, He gives you a small smile before tilting his head slightly and connecting his lips to yours.
His lips felt soft against yours, you reciprocated and kissed him back. You felt the heat bloom in your core as he slowly grinds himself against your lower abdomen while kissing you. He slowly slides his hand against yours before intertwining your fingers with his. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, allowing him to deepen the kiss which resulted in him humming in satisfaction.
He pulled away shortly after, panting for air, his kisses then trailed down towards your neck, he pecked and nipped at the skin of your neck, leaving bite marks as a way to mark you as his, he untwined his hand from yours to pull down your chemise, causing your tits to spill out of their confines.
He presses kisses down to the valley in between your breasts before he stays there for a while, “You know, I'm jealous—” he begins, his other hand coming up and gently fondling with your breast, “— that our daughter gets to have these whenever she wishes, meanwhile I'd have to wait until night.” He whines slightly, his thumb pressing over your sensitive nipple making you gasp slightly.
He decides he doesn't want to waste any more time and immediately wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling and suckling on your breast like a babe, he swirls his tongue and flicks it up and down the bud, Aemond hums in satisfaction when he feels the taste of your milk in his mouth.
He squeezes and fondles your other breast, rolling your nipple between his index and thumb finger and pulling meanly on it. Your breathing becomes shorter and faster as you begin to get aroused by his ministrations which prompts you to rub your thighs together trying to ease the throbbing between your legs with some friction.
It doesn't go unnoticed by Aemomd, but he instead focuses his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions and drinking your milk selfishly for himself, his teeth grazes against your bud and you wince slightly at the burn it causes only for him to bite onto it, making you whine and squirm before he sucks on it again as a way to soothe the pain he just caused. He pulls away with a wet pop and you take notice of the milk that's dripping from the side of his mouth and down to his neck which was such a perverse sight, yet you couldn't help make you feel more aroused so you guided his head back to your breast again.
And so he took your breast in his mouth once again, drinking all of your milk up you moaned in pleasure as his tongue flicker up and down your bud. You whimpered because you are sensitive from earlier feeding.
You felt him humping against your thigh as he tried ease the tension between his very own legs, he let go of your breast, unable to hold himself back anymore, he sat straight up and began to slip down his pants and take off his tunic, you did the same with your chemise, discarding it and throwing it someone to the side of your chamber.
He spreads your legs wide and lines his cock against your entrance slowly pushing it in, this causes you to tremble in excitement as his cock stretches you deliciously, you let out a gasp once he is fully settled. He lifts your hips off the mattress, holding you by your thighs as he slowly begins to move.
His thrusts were slow at first, almost as if he's teasing himself until he begins to pick up on the momentum, thrusting his hips back and forth, he begins to pick up the speed quite steadily.
You grind your hips to match his rhythm as your body jolts up and down the bed, your tits bouncing as a result, the moans of his name leave your lips like holy chants, “Aemond— oh fuck– right there– Aemond—!” all the while his tip is continuously hitting that sweet spot of yours, he grips one of your breasts and stares at it intently, “They look so good when they're swollen and full of milk.” He refers to your tits, he squeezes your tit slightly and watches as droplets of milk begin oozing out. “Oh gods— you're still full– fuck.” He quickly shifts his weight, dropping your lower body down onto the mattress and leaning forward to take your breast in his mouth while he fucks you.
“Seven fucking hells–— I don't think I can ever get enough of this ; perhaps I should keep you pregnant constantly, Yes? So your tits are always full of milk, for the babe” he grunts, his peak nearing as he mouths at your nipple. “And for me— ” His thrusts become more frantic and desperate, “You would like it wouldn't you? I know you would. You'd love to be full of me— I can only imagine how gorgeous you'd look, constantly waddling around while carrying my child— Answer me.” He growls. “Yes yes yes yes! yesyes! Aemond! I'd love it so so so much please please—” You babble as you feel your peak nearing. “Good girl— fuck!” He moans as he peaks, and your babbling is cut short as you gasp because you too reach your high right after him, the pleasure explodes inside you like a volcano, slowly seeping and coursing through your veins, you feel hot, warm, cold, suffocated all at the same time due to the intensity of the pleasure.
Aemond slows down his thrusts before fully stopping and pulling out, he watches as your cunt pushes out his spend to which he tuts disappointedly at before scooping it up with his finger and pushing it all back in.
“Here I am; planning to keep you full of my child and yet you're here denying it? Such a disobedient wife.” He slaps your clit as a punishment making you whimper, “I apologise— t'wasnt my intention.” You reply, breathlessly and he hums.
He lays down next to you, catching his breath along with you. You watch and his hands rests on your lower abdomen. He grabs you by your hips and turns you around to face him before he grabs the sheets and throws them over you both before pulling you close, your breasts pressing up against him, and the milk transfering over to his chest, making it sticky.
“Aem— it's messy.” Your voice comes out slurred and Aemond simply hums, “Let it be.” He hugs you even tighter, and you sigh, before wrapping your arm around his waist, hugging him back and you both slowly drift off into sleep.
— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond smut#aemond targaryen x reader smut#aemond x reader smut#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen x you#x reader smut#x reader#reader insert#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond x fem!reader#aemond
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
@_makinggold on twitter
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
CAN YOU STAY UP ALL NIGHT?
Part 1
Dad!Aemond x niece!Reader
Even after the babe had settled, you didn’t find any sleep. And while your breasts hadn’t felt too uncomfortable back then, they did now. They were heavy, hard to the touch and full of milk, desiring relief from their overstuffed state.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, lactation kink, hand job, lactating, pregnancy, female reader (mention of her eye color)
WORDS: 2.5 K
NOTES: This kinda is the part 2 to Serenity. Can be read as standalone, though! Thanks to @black-dread for allowing me to use your gif! 🤍
There were not many things you envied Aemond for, but his ability to find sleep just mere minutes after cradling your crying son until he had settled certainly was one of them.
Since you had refused to take advantage of a wet nurse, despite everyone around you, including your husband, urging you to reconsider your decision, your days had turned rather strenuous and tiring, and being five moons pregnant wasn't making it easier.
But you and him had made an agreement once he noticed the toll it all took on you. Whenever his days were filled with princely duties, leaving the care of your son to you and your maids only, he stepped in to handle him when he arose during the night. The feeding was left to you, of course, but the more demanding part was in his hands.
Besides your son's inability to fall asleep other than in your or your husband’s arms, he was not too fussy. This night was different, however. After what you assumed to be his last feeding for the night, he didn’t settle, and didn’t fall asleep. It took Aemond at least an hour of rocking, humming and singing to calm the crying babe, until he eventually was allowed to lay him down to sleep in the cot in his adjoining chambers.
You had nursed your son for a little longer than usual, your breasts being full enough to feed at least two babes at once, and even though it had brought you a great sense of relief, his wailing had seemed to trigger the release of more milk – regardless of your son being full and not needing more.
Even after the babe had settled, you didn’t find any sleep. And while your breasts hadn’t felt too uncomfortable back then, they did now. They were heavy, hard to the touch and full of milk, desiring relief from their overstuffed state.
You had tried to stay quiet, not wanting to rouse your sleeping husband, but you couldn’t stay quiet for any longer.
Shifting your body to get more comfortable in bed, gently massaging your breasts through the now dampened silk of your nightgown, it were your quiet moans and whimpers that caught Aemond’s attention in the dead of the night, rousing him from his slumber. He rolled over, his eyes opening languidly as he looked up at you.
“What is wrong?” he asked, his smooth voice rugged with sleep.
While the relationship between you two hadn't been shaped by mutual love and respect in the very beginning, arranged as a way to make amends after he had lost his eye at the hands of your younger brother, you had figured very quickly that Aemond was mesmerized by your body, more specifically your breasts. He might have despised you for the actions of your kin, but the effect your body had had on his hadn’t gone unnoticed by you.
Whenever he had been in your presence, his good eye had flickered down to the swell of your breasts, followed by a blush that not only covered his cheeks, but also ran down his neck and seemed to settle between his legs, prompting him to shift his weight from one leg to the other. Every time.
And even when he had bedded you before you were with child, he had always paid just a little too much attention to your breasts. The second your small clothes had hit the floor, his fingers were on your little buds, rubbing and pinching them to full hardness that allowed his lips to wrap around them.
Your breasts had grown generously throughout your first pregnancy, forcing you to scold him each time he teased them, because with the fullness also came the sensitivity. And for the remainder of your pregnancy, Aemond wasn’t allowed to touch your breasts as roughly as he would have liked to, resulting in him being quite moody and grumpy.
But ever since your son was born, those raging emotions had turned into an obsessive infatuation, fed by your breasts swelling to ridiculous proportions once you started to nurse the babe, producing enough milk as if your body meant to provide for five children.
No matter how bewitched he was with your breasts, the care and concern he had started to show towards you after the difficulties of your pregnancy were something you couldn’t hold against him.
So, it was no surprise he was wide awake at the display of your discomfort, the tiredness long gone.
Aemond leaned over you to peck your lips, his right hand pulling down the sheets and resting on the swell of your stomach, gently bringing you closer to him. His eye briefly flickered down to your bump, feeling your unborn child kick against his palm.
“Is it the babe?” he asked, gently rubbing your bump while his other hand slightly tugged your nightgown down your shoulder to press a kiss to your exposed skin. “It appears to be just as fussy as their older brother.”
You sighed with a shake of your head, flashing him a forced smile. “It is the soreness that robs me of my sleep, not the babe.”
His gaze trailed from your face down to your full breasts, the dampened spots in the front of your nightgown just as visible in the dim light of your marital chambers as his lust blown eye. The beautiful lilac hue you both shared was fully eclipsed by black, and even the sapphire he wore appeared to be a shade darker, whereas that was merely the doing of the shadows.
“I could be of assistance, you know,” he offered quietly, his voice thick with arousal. A faint blush spread across your cheeks, feeling the heat rise inside of you.
The question brought you back to the first time he had helped you with the tension, the sight of him looking up at you with the remnants of your milk trickling down the corners of his lips and chin etched into your memory, and sending heat straight to the apex of your legs.
There was no need for you to say anything, just watching you shift in your place with your hands already undoing the tie in the front of your nightgown was all the confirmation Aemond needed.
His hands stopped yours, peeling them off your body to place them on your sides. His large hands found your breasts, cupping them through the fabric, and starting to knead them gently. A contented sigh left your lips, sinking further into the pillows, and Aemond’s warm embrace.
He leaned closer towards you, his mouth on a level with your ear, and allowing you to hear and feel his heavy breathing. “Every night I have to watch you feed him, but I am feeling rather hungry myself,” he rasped, causing goosebumps to prickle on your skin. “One might even say I am starving, my dear.”
Your back arched into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensations washing over you at once. “Oh, yes?” you sighed, licking your lips and gazing at him with half-lidded eyes. “Then I suggest you take what you desire, husband, I would not want you to starve.”
Even through the fabric of your nightgown could you feel the warmth emanating from his palms, dancing along the sensitive skin of your hardened buds. Aemond undid the tie fully, unfolding your shift, and exposing your full breasts to the chill air.
Drawing in a deep breath at the sudden coldness surrounding your breasts, you gazed up at Aemond, who was towering over you now, his mischievous gaze solely focused on your full breasts. Looking down at them, you noticed what had caught his attention. A few beads of your milk had oozed out your darkened buds at the stimulation, trickling down the curve of them, and proving to be a sight to behold for your husband.
“Skoros issi ao umbagon syt?” you teased, the High Valyrian slipping smoothly past your lips. What are you waiting for?
Cupping your breast again, he dragged the pad of his thumb over your bud in a way that had you inhaling sharply, gathering some of your milk to bring it to his lips and clean it off of your essence, tasting you.
Aemond hummed, licking his lips as if he had tasted the finest Arbor. He tipped his head forwards and engulfed one of your buds with his lips, his tongue swirling around it, while one hand fondled the other breast.
The moment he started to suck had you whimpering, slightly hurting at first. But the pleasure and relief it already brought was far too good for you to resist. It was not more painful than the countless times your son had decided to clamp down on your flesh while nursing, and you could tell that, even though he was hungry for you, Aemond tried to be gentle and careful.
Each suck of him had your stomach tingle with desire, and, while one of your hands cupped your bump, the other entangled into his silver tresses, smoothing it, and causing him to relax even further.
Your breathing was shaky, interrupted by heavy pants and quiet moans leaving your lips. Milk dribbled out of your other bud as he pinched it between his fingers, rolling and squeezing it, and prompting a haze to cloud your mind.
But it were not just your sounds that spurred you on. His soft purrs vibrated against your flesh, adding to the burning sensations coursing through your veins.
When he released your bud with a lewd pop, the sight he blessed you with almost had you moaning – if it wasn't for your bottom lip to be caught between your teeth. His lips were slightly swollen from the sucking, and beads of your milk were seeping from them, trickling idly down his chin.
“My hunger for you is as insatiable as it is undeniable,” he rasped, dark blown eye fixed with yours. His words almost made you feel shy, wanting to hide away from him. But with his warm hands on you, and the feeling of his lips still lingering on your body, the comfort it granted was just too much to pull away.
You whimpered quietly, not one coherent thought prominent in your mind. Aemond chuckled, and positioned himself, so his mouth could pay attention to your other breast as well, careful not to put any of his weight on your swollen belly. Crawling between your parted legs, he lay down on his other side, one hand on your bump.
He bowed his head forward and pressed soft kisses to your hot skin. A gentle bite to your hard bud had your back arching again, all but shoving it into his mouth as your grip on his hair changed to tug him down, causing him to grunt in surprise. Doing just what he had done to the other before, Aemond started to suckle on your breast, granting you even more relief.
With the proximity, you felt a hardness press to the outside of your thigh, growing more apparent when he began to rut his hips against you.
You snaked a hand between your bodies, starting slowly by rubbing his thigh in circular motions, before pushing your fingers underneath the waistband of his underclothes, grasping his stiff member. Your fingers must have been cold or just surprised him, because his hips stuttered slightly at the touch, almost as if he hesitated to continue.
He nipped your bud, the rest of his body going rigid with the sudden pleasure you brought him. Stroking your hand up and down his cock, he was quick to melt into your touch again. It appeared that your hand tugging on him had him growing ferocious, almost as if it encouraged him to suck every last drop of milk out of you.
Every time your hand slid up and down his length, getting soaked by his own juices leaking uncontrollably from his slit, Aemond pulled you unintentionally closer towards his body with his arm around your waist.
He could not stop moaning and grunting against your flesh, rocking his hips into your hand whenever you tugged on him a tad too slowly to his liking.
Pulling back, he watched you with parted lips as you brought your hand up to your mouth to spit into it, using your saliva to move your hand along his cock with more ease.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, almost mesmerized by the bold action.
He dipped his head forwards again, trying to pick up where he had left. It caused you to pump his cock with desperate vigor, using the movements to keep yourself grounded.
With how violently his cock throbbed in your grasp, his grunts and groans growing in volume, you figured he was close to reaching his peak, igniting a fire in you. You tugged on his hair rather roughly, causing him to graze his teeth along your bud to elicit breathy moans and whimpers to slip past your lips.
“Peak for me,” you pleaded through your own pleasure, the fullness of your breasts long gone and replaced by sheer relief. But it wasn’t only about your own pleasure anymore.
With the pressure inside of him rising, Aemond had stopped suckling on your breast. Instead, he just mouthed along your flushed flesh, nibbling on your skin and leaving little marks in his wake, staking his claim on you, as if the child growing within you was not enough already.
Tugging on his hair once again, you pulled his face up to yours to devour him, the kiss being all teeth and tongue with a passion unmatched. You could taste your milk on his tongue, causing you to moan.
“Gods, I– fuck,” he groaned against your lips, heralding his peak.
You felt his warm spent on your hand even before his hips started to eagerly chase the pleasure, and his cock started to twitch, your hand pumping him through the high. Aemond grunted and groaned against your lips, the sounds eagerly swallowed down by you until he eventually came down to rest in your arms.
He tipped his forehead against yours, humming when he was finally able to make use of his senses again. “How do you feel?” he whispered, kissing you chastely. “Or shall I continue to ensure your complete relief?”
You didn’t even have time to answer before he trailed his hand from your breasts over your bump down between your legs, cupping your mound over the skirts of your nightgown. Your breath hitched in your throat, yet you parted your legs to grant him even better access to your clothed cunt.
You released a quiet moan, the tiredness completely forgotten. “I do not believe I could stop you if you decided to relieve me once more,” you teased, brushing his hair out of his face while your other hand rested on his cheek. You dragged your thumb over his lips, half-lidded eyes looking up at him with a spark of admiration flickering in them.
“You are insufferable,” you mused, a soft smile on your lips, “but you know I would never turn you down… just to ensure my problem is completely relieved.”
Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @connorsui
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#house of the dragon aemond#hotd smut#aemond smut#aemond#aemond stannies#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x you#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon fanfiction#ewan nation#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfic#hotd imagine#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#hotd x you#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon imagine#aemond x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
EVERY EWAN MITCHELL ROLE — Aemond Targaryen in House of the Dragon (2022-present)
#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd#hotdedit#aemondedit#aemond one eye#prince aemond#aemond#hotd aemond#asoiaf#ewan mitchell edit#ewanmitchelledit#dailyhotdgifs#gameofthronesdaily#hoosbandewangifs#everyewan
817 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
golfjournal
Golf Journal
faeridollz
୨୧ ׅ꒷ ִ ࣪࣪ 𝐟𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐳
runningbakergirl
Elisa M
semparinvictus
Into the Deep End
santokh9-blog
Untitled