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precious-little-scoundrel · 5 months

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My Mother’s Child

Fandom: House of the Dragon, GRRM’s Fire and Blood

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: im a sucker for any GRRM universe and setting but after the recent release of the trailer for House of the Dragon’s second season I can’t quite contain the muses. So here is my self indulgent spillage of thoughts i entertained while watching the first. Perhaps growing up obsessed with Greek Myths, Shakespeare Anti-heroes and Renaissance families took its toll on my moral fascinations but the minute I see a codependent dynamic in a brutally restricted society I go a little nutty on the psycho-analysis and then it turns to feelings and then it turns to fiction.

Timeline: I’ve entirely had my wicked way with events and outcomes, nothing is critically pertinent but Aemond’s time in the Riverlands is changed, the time of Maelor’s birth is fudged, Aemond doesn’t die but is recalled to be regent again after Aegon’s demise, I’ve really no clue which of the Blacks are alive but the gist of it is the war has gone in favor of the Greens for the most part and now Aemond can come into his Crafty Uncle Richard III Regent era while obsessing over his pretty mom. Cheers.

Authors Note: im in no way romanticizing or advocating for the universe typical incest, warped relationships, casual murder, deranged intentions or the dire outcome portrayed of a stunted mother’s dependence on her worrisomely dependable son. Not proof read, have mercy on my tired eyes. Specific warnings below the cut:

Warnings: 18+, dead dove do not eat -thematically disturbing. An exploration of Alicent’s dependence on Aemond during his regency and beyond, undertones of attraction on Aemond’s part and submission to him on Alicent’s, combined with their delusional domesticity by coparenting little Maelor may disturb some. There is some physical touch that Aemond makes weird, his impure thoughts that are blamed on Targaryen tendencies, his recollections of sleeping in her bed as a child, him fucking Alys Rivers and imagining his mom sorta? along with sending Alicent his cum stained letters, calling Maelor “their boy” as if they are his parents, open ending suggesting a potential escalation in the dynamic. I tried to keep this as in character as possible so these warnings sound far more stark and crass than I hope the actual fic reads

It was Aemond sent to fetch his wayward brother, it was Aemond relied upon to soothe his sister, it was Aemond who absorbed Ser Criston Cole’s teaching, it was Aemond who stood any chance of gaining Otto Hightower’s commendation and through it some crumb of praise for the produce of poor, weary, teary eyed Alicent Hightower.

It was little more responsibility for Aemond Targaryen to quickly become the closest thing his mother had to a bosom friend by the time of his maturity, easily adding so weighty a role to those he already held as Lord Regent, terror of the realm, kinslayer and learned heir. It came as naturally to him as had filling each of its predecessors.

Whatever hopeless compulsion, dragon bound and magic made, to be loyal to his family that already ran in his poisoned blood, it was only ever magnified by the sight of his mother’s dutiful martyrdom, year after year bleeding herself out -and all the while not a soul to staunch the wound but him. Surely her husband the King only made it larger with each neglect or attention he paid her, and Aegon had long since been the sour fruit of a painful initiation. Helaena for reasons as gentle as they were cruel could not bear her own mother’s company -nor was the realm that sweet daughter lived in that of the Seven Kingdoms, where Alicent spent her every waking moment dwelling on and maneuvering for her boy King. Helaena lived in dreams and lived to avoid dreams and all Alicent had were harsh realities and dreams so trodden under the march of time that they resembled very little to their former selves by the retelling.

Aemond lived in the bridge between the two women of his house. There were dear to him the cherished traditions of Old Valyria and also, there were crucial to him the pressing matters of harvest and uprising and famine and the throne of Westeros.

He too lived in the Seven Kingdoms, he was practically their king, and like the manner in which he had long led this family by innate authority, such a role came naturally to him, as did sitting by the hearth in his mother's antechamber each evening, a recreation of the way he had stayed with her night after night in the wake of Driftmark, and discussing with her the petitions of the day, outcomes whose decisions needed making before dawn and hopes for the future.

Aemond felt close to her then, and dismal though the Kingdom’s prospects often felt, between the two of them there was calm in these moments. For once in his life Aemond did not find himself chafing under its soothing influence, but instead he would match her in her reclining, legs spread wide in his chair and silver head tilted to rest on the gilt chair, their hands near to brushing and let the connection grow until he wondered if he too were a dreamer and could know her inner thoughts, know her bewilderment and also her relief when he took from her the weight of the day with his sober companionship.

It felt odd parting in the evenings after these talks, what had once been a ritual of her comforting his painful wound in his youth and holding him close through the nighttime terror now felt necessary to be repeated as cure from her own dejection. Only her last remaining grandson Maelor provided some support to Alicent, she herself a child grown old using her own children to soothe herself.

Aemond saw to it that Maelor was brought often to their evening chats, a docile boy with an intense interest in blocks, he was no distraction from their more weighty discussions but when the evening grew late and the moon high and Aemond’s better judgment waned at the soft sight of his mother’s tender form and unguarded appreciation for his presence by her side, there was Maelor to place in her arms in instead of himself, and there was Maelor to pat her arms and lay upon her breast and enjoy the uncomplicated devotion of a mother that Aemond had never known.

Perhaps if his father the King had even once played the role of father, Aemond would not have spent his childhood clasped to that soft bosom while pretending he were the one being comforted by it and not her. He was older now and he had read of such dynamics, he had read of myths and scandals, Maester’s studies of the codependent phenomenon that blurs the line between each familial role. Childlike herself, his mother deserved not another man to have designs on her but a child, a true child she could dote upon and cuddle at night and a good son to tell her,

“You are weary, come, I’ll walk you to bed. Nevermind his blanket, I have it.”

and so it was Maelor who lay with her, Maelor who delighted her, Maelor who took up the space that had last been Aemond’s under her left arm. Only Aemond now allowed himself the task of tucking the furs about them both and stroking the tear tracks off her cheek, leaning down to kiss her forehead as she had dreamed of her own father doing. And then, Aemond betook himself to his own chambers laden with her burdens and his own and fell into the bedding with pleasure in his heart at having been entrusted with the wearisome load.

It continued thus in a pleasurable routine until the Riverlands called for his attention. Aegon was propped up, scarred and dim, on his neglected throne and Alicent was made Protector of the Realm and immediately thereafter Aemond found himself in the courtyard, Vhaegar waiting for him to mount and lead the reinforcements.

As Aemond pressed his thin lips to mother’s forehead in farewell for the duration of a long campaign, little Maelor who was in her arms laid hold of Aemond’s silver locks and seized them tightly during the moment between mother and son, holding the prince hostage a bit longer, for a moment nearer,

“dada.” -the infant nephew babbled to his uncle Aemond for a kiss of his own and to judge by Alicent’s alarmed expression, Aemond’s enforced separation from this little family they had made of a year’s evenings could not have come a moment too soon.

It haunted him, that flash of horror on his mother’s face at an infant’s small confusion. It brought back a seething reproach against her for all the times she’d never understood him, all the times she had raged against his very nature as a Dragon, holding him up with disgust and pride all at once until his head spun with it and he had learned to dance to her every whim, now the devout follower of Old Town and now the noble Dragon whose rights were being denied.

But woe to him should he be one or the other when it did not suit her. She thought his innate longing for a dragon to be imbecilic when he was young and yet she glowed with pride when he called out those Strong bastards for being anything but pure blooded dragons themselves.

As always with her duty, she hated herself for its outcome yet chose to cloak herself in pride for her sacrifices. His very existence, those of his siblings too, was sacrifice, his very bloodline and nature was an abomination against her faith, his impulses were beastly however much he took her principles to heart, and his tastes remained strange no matter how stifled her own had long remained.

But she had made him. How dare she be repulsed by her own creation.

Prince Aemond’s ire burned through him and suited the needs of war far better than kinder feelings of pining for hearth and home, so he stayed angry with his mother at each hack and hewing of his blade, each swath of farmland he burnt and every ill organized column of traitor levys he annihilated.

Capable, he is the capable son and his mother writes to him thanking him for it and he crushes the missive in his hand before regret surges after and he strokes the parchment flat again on his desk with all the revernace of a lover for his beloved’s skin.

He is kinder the parchment than he is to Alys Rivers.

Alys who is older and smart and wicked, who never once flinches at his nature, who accepts the ruthless pace of his hips and the mauling of his mouth with her own vigor, Alys who he swears to himself is a wartime necessity, the humors most flow somewhere and if he is to bleed he must also spill and she is there and trustworthy and her aura reminds in the moments after pain, warm arms holding him tight on his right side lest he roll on his wounded eye in sleep. The eye does not throb in that raw way any longer, it is a dull and perpetual ache he can expect to remain with him for all time, but the longing for such comfort remains and he lays atop Alys’ matronly breast often for longer than his daylight-sobered self can countenance.

He writes of her to his mother, to grieve her with his sin as much as not to withhold anything from her, he has not before and why should he now? Her reply is stifled and terse in regards to his admission, barely even a line and he must squint to decipher wether it pertains to the subject he is most anxious to hear from her about. But as he thumbs the well familiar scrawl of her pen he can imagine the set of her mouth and the pleading of her eyes, so different from true distress, no, instead it is the girlish patheticness she plays at, despite its lack of success all these years and how the same years have robbed her of the youthful vulnerability that once made men take notice of it.

Only Aemond remains affected by it, and he finds it so deliciously false that he teases it out of her as a treat for himself on occasion. Aegon may have it whenever he sees fit, though being a fool he thinks every crease to her forehead is that of genuine concern. Aemond’s knows her better than that, and sees her pouting eyes come through the written admonition to “keep himself in good company”.

He smirks at Alys when she enters his tent and finds him rolling up the motherly advice. He ploughs her atop the volumes of communication his dear mother has sent him during this campaign and the parchment he sends back to her with his report next morning is stained.

Aemond doesn’t need to hope that she smells his letters for sweat and smoke the same way he smells hers for rosewater and thyme. He knows she does, he has caught them under her pillow and in her pockets when returning to the Keep, time and again, without warning. He knows she prays for him to outlive them all and he knows she will kiss the stains she mistakes for tears. A holy horror fills him at the satisfaction that thought brings, and after it has taken root he cannot find it in himself to enjoy Alys’ cheerful vigor any longer or the dark appetites they once shared. She is too eager, she is too unabashed, there is too little shame for his taste.

Alys is a whore and Aemond longs for the droopy eyed piety of his mother’s face when he tucks her abed, the melancholy contentment of his dutiful care for her and the mislaid trust that she has domesticated her little dragonling to the faith of the seven, her plaint limbed trust that the Warrior and Mother would never meet in the throes of burning want that consume him.

When his task is done, or near to done in these rebellious lands, and a call comes of his brother’s failing health, Aegon mounts Vheagar a disillusioned man, flying high and away above the wreckage he has committed and leaving behind the last Strong bastard dead as promised.

Alicent’s son is a man fully grown when he alights in the courtyard, long limbed and toned from his wartime deprivations, the set of his jaw remains firm but his gait is looser, there is a confidence in bloom now that was only budding before he left. Alicent cannot hide her joy at seeing him again, her pace is faster than is strictly proper as she breaks ranks of the welcoming party to greet him -it is her right as reigning regent.

As his mother.

She clasps his hands and feels his strong fingers engulf her forearms, tugging her nearer in an almost playful fashion -the action suits his new demeanor of confidence but it hardly suits the action of a son greeting his mother.

“Muña,” his rich voice murmurs to her as he stares down at her with not a bit of the usual softening in his sharp features, his lips quirk and his eyes sharply plumb through the depths of her own, “I am come home, as you asked.”

Unnerved by his intensity, Alicent gives him a trembling smile, watery eyes darting from one dear feature in that ethereal face to the next -it is the war terrors, perhaps, that have him so ardent in his tone and grip, men often come back from battle strung taut.

“Then we are safe.” she sighs, meaning it for their family even as her own heart quickens in vague misgiving.

“Maelor?” he questions, not even bothering to ask after the current king, his blood brother, it is the infant he has already fashioned into a surrogate son that interests him now.

“Is well.” his mother glows at the mention of the babe, “Growing and talking more each week.”

“And his mother?” Aemond asks with a soft light in his face as he ducks to meet her eye to eye, and Alicent knows he does not mean the poor Helaena gone mad in the tower, he means Alicent.

“Well enough.” She insists with all the age-old weariness that suggests, and is meant to inform him, otherwise.

Aemond’s jaw ticks in recognition of the old habit, his mother lies often for so pious a woman and she manipulates even more frequently for so devout a defender of the truth. It is a child’s tactic and he knows it, and that fury over it that had filled him in his days in the Riverlands surges back in another form, he feels a superiority in that moment even as he is being played by her weary pout and soft hands.

It is a woman’s way of asking a man to carry her load, to disarm her of her duties, to take from her the pretense of capability and taste for ruling.

Aemond’s conflict for such a role died somewhere with Alys in the Riverlands, by his own hand, in his own bed, his mother’s last letter dancing before his sightless eye. It is with confidence and entitlement that he glides his hands down her shapely arms and takes her hands in his, weighing them between them as she watches in surprise. He thumbs over the knuckles before splaying them out in his much larger palms and running a forefinger over the mangled cuticles.

“Mmm, not well enough for my liking, judging by this.” he remarks and when she goes to snatch the evidence of her worry away he clasps them stronger until it is an undeniable struggle for her to take them back -one he denies with an iron grip and a patronizing smile that she has only ever seen Aegon receive from him. “Those days are over, munta, we will have peace and plenty now.” he drags her stiff arm through his own and turns them towards the entrance of the Keep, patting the sore fingers laying on his arm, “And I’ll have no more of…this.”

Dazed, Alicent allows him to lead her through the great doors and into the colossal tomb that has been her children's home, she stares up at the familiar face of her third born in the light of the grand hall’s torches and marvels at the comfort one existence can bring another. Just as she fears the firm hold on her hand and heeds the temptation she feels to obey a man child she should be governing. These thoughts are put to flight when Aemond halts and turns to her warmly, no sneer remaining and no cold authority left when he whispers excitedly,

“Will you take me to our boy?”

The instant awareness of his meaning, that he means his nephew, that he means her grandson, that he means the future king, that he means Maelor -it sickens her how natural her impulse is to smile back at Aemond’s oddly paternal expression, to lead him back to her antechambers and reunite the little family they made before the war called him and that witch possessed the son Alicent had so lovingly made pure and noble in her belly. It is balm to hear him grown and saying that they are one again, that she is paramount in his life once more, that together they have made something gentler and better than any bastard lovechild conceived in wartime.

“Come.” Alicent urges her son, taking his scarred hand in her soft one as she had a million times before to lead him to the Sept. Yet this time, Alicent leads Aemond to her rooms and the cradle of their future King.

#house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon #alicent x aemond #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #hotd alicent #queen alicent #alicent hightower #Alicent fanfiction #Alicent Hightower fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #game of thrones

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aemondsbeloved · 1 year

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I Would Die For You In Secret

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

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

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

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

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You cringed from your place in your family’s apartments in the Red Keep. You were grateful that your back was turned to Jace so he wouldn’t see your obvious guilt.

You forced a smile as you turned to face him. “Of course I have not been avoiding you.”

The lie came easy as had the company you had been secretly keeping. Upon your mother’s hasty decision, one Daemon had not so secretly loathed, to return to the Keep and remedy the tensions between the other side of your family, you now had a new secret to hold.

The type of secret even Jace would not forgive easily. Not when it was Aemond you visited it in secret. Especially not when before you left Dragonstone you had promised Jace that you would not engage with the Princes beyond social niceties.

“You were never one to lie before we came here. I wonder if that’s what has changed you.”

You scoffed with incredulity. “I have no idea what you speak of, brother.”

Did he know, you wondered. Did he know that you had gone to Aemond your first night here after he had ridiculed Lucerys? Did he know you had knocked harshly on his door that night, berating him for being cruel when the reason your mother returned with your family was to fix things? Did Jace know that thereafter you had formed a slow, strange friendship with Aemond? That because of you he had taken to ignoring your brothers, much to his mother’s pleasure.

Did Jace know even what Aemond did not, that you loved him to the disappointment to yourself?

“We used to tell each other everything when we were younger.”

“Yes and we are not children now.” You prayed you did not sound defensive.

He sighed, appearing less sharp and all knowing. “You could still tell me.”

His softer voice made you rigid. “Tell you what?”

“Of your affections. I would not tell mother or Daemon.”

You shifted, feeling more girl than a woman near grown then. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He smiled a little, throwing you off. “You have been different since we have arrived here. Surely there is someone who has caught your eye. I only meant to tell you that you can tell me. I’m your brother, after all.”

“Oh.” Your voice was small and you cursed yourself for it. Jace being himself would not force you to tell him you knew but a foolish part of you wanted to tell him that it was Aemond and that he was not so terrible.

“When we are at dinner you are always sitting there as though there is somewhere else you want to be. You are always looking for someone else.”

You were not so sure what to say to that. Maybe you could tell him without saying the person’s name. “There is… someone.”

“There is?” He smiled broadly and it made you smile slightly in return at his boyishness.

“Yes,” You said. “There is.”

“You sound quite taken with him.”

“It was hard not to be taken with him.” And it was the truth. When you got past the shell Aemond kept himself in there was a young man who was fierce and loyal, a true dragon.

“What is he like?”

“He is difficult sometimes but treats me with respect compared to no one else has before. He does not easily give his affection but when I am given his I want to covet it like a fine jewel.”

“What else?”

“He pushes people away but if he lets you into his heart, I find there is no other place so lovely as it is when I am protected and cherished by him. He is not like the knights in the books that mother used to read to me but I adore him still.”

“You sound very fond of him, sister” Jacaerys said but the tone was different, one you could not place. “Who is he?”

You took great interest in your hands as you stared down at them, anything to not look at Jace. He said your name with more firmness. “Who is he?” He repeated.

“Don’t make me say it, Jace. Please don’t make me say it.”

You never begged, even as a child. But your voice was smaller and pleading. Jacaerys was no fool and you knew him as he knew you. He had seen through you and you could do little as your secret came crumbling down around you.

“It can’t be him” He asserted. “You only spend time with us and Helaena. There is no possibility of it.”

Then you looked up at him, an open book. You saw the questions go through his mind— Why? How? When? If only you could answer them.

“Aemond?” Was his only question and you could hear the anger he was reeling in, the aggravation and disbelief, maybe even shame in you.

Your silence was his answer and he huffed like a dragon might and stormed out of the room. You did not even have the heart to tell him to stop.

The Gods had not been merciful to you as Jace had astutely avoided you around the castle for the rest of the day and you had learned you were to have a family dinner with your mother, Daemon, Daemon’s daughter and your cousins Baela and Rhaena,and your brothers.

That evening when you had gone to break fast with your family you had moved to sit by Jace but he had taken a seat further from you by Baela, not escaping your mother’s attention. Averting your eyes, you sat next to Lucerys with Rhaena on the his side whil ignoring the worrisome look he gave you.

After some silence, your mother asked you, “How did you spend your day, dearest?”

Your look at Jacaerys who only clenched his jaw and looked away, not going unnoticed by your family. Turning to your mother you forced a smile. “I spent some time with Helaena and her twins. We went into the gardens for a little while until Prince Aemond stopped by to see his sister.”

Rhaenyra smiled gently, greatly glad that you had taken to her request to mend tensions within the family. There was little doubt she was going to say something along the lines of how this made her pleased but Jace could simmer in his rage no longer.

“Prince Aemond stopped by, did he?”

Even Daemon raised his eyebrows at the tone.

You placed your cutlery down slowly. “Well yes. He is fond of his sister and her children. It is not so surprising that he might take some time to visit them.”

“Yes well you are very well acquainted with the Prince, are you not? You would know.”

“Jace” Your voice was a plea, leaning across the table. “Please don’t—“

“I can’t believe you.” His reply was a low, deadly tone. It was one that reminded you your brother was still a dragon, silver hair or not. “You should be ashamed.”

“Jace” Your mother reprimanded in a sharp tone. “Why are you speaking to your sister in such a way? Apologize.”

“I should not apologize. Not when she has been sneaking around with Aemond.”

“Is this true?” You heard Daemon asked and it was the first time he had not sounded angry, mainly surprised and perhaps curious.

It mattered not. So much for Jace promising to not tell anyone of your affections. Your eyes were bleary from tears and without thinking you pushed your chair back harshly and ran out the doors into the hallway of the castle, no longer being able to stifle the sob in your throat.

Picking up your skirts you ran with no destination in mind. You could only think of the hurt from Jace and how your mother would hate you now too.

The hands grabbing your arms stopped you in your disorganized running, making you stand still for a moment. “Y/N?” You heard Aemond’s voice, quiet and concerned.

Hastily you brought up your hands, wiping the tears so you could see your surroundings. You tried to apologize but your words came out thick and incoherent as another sob tore through your throat.

Then his hands were cupping your cheeks, wiping away the tears as you cried. He gently shushed you. As your sobs ceased, your body tired, his voice was gentle as he asked you, “What has upset you?”

You bit down the next sob that was climbing up your throat. “Jace is upset with me. He may never forgive me.”

His jaw clenched but he only asked you, “Why would your brother be upset with you?”

You gently pulled his hands from your cheeks. “He knows. He knows of our friendship.”

“He does not approve?”

You shook your head. “Of course not. And when he found out—“

Aemond was perplexed at your phrasing, like you had to confess something else. “Found out what?”

You swallowed the urge to tell Aemond that Jace was so upset because of your affections for him, not the friendship itself. “It does not matter.”

“Found out what?” He repeated, giving you a look that told you he would not let this go.

“No, Aemond. Do not make me tell you. If I tell you everything will be ruined and everything is horrid now because Jace—”

“What?” He asked more forcibly. “What did Jace say, Y/N? Tell me.”

“He wanted to know who I hold affections for, alright? And I thought I was being clever but I was a fool! He knew as soon as I described you and now he hates me and now you know which is terrible because I had no desire to tell you Aemond I—”

Your rambling was cut off by a pair of lips on yours, eliciting a shocked gasp from yourself before you melted into it, placing your hands on his cheeks now.

After a moment he pulled back and you could only look at him. Your perplexed stare was enough to make him smile at you.

This seemed too good to be true. The warmth on his face that seemed to be reserved only for you seemed out of place. “If you kissed me only to stop me from my rambling, I will loathe you for the rest of my days, Aemond.”

He chuckled. “I kissed you because it has all I have wanted to do for the better part of these past months.”

“Since when?” You asked, breathless.

“It has been a slippery slope since you knocked on my door telling me off rather crudely in the middle of the night, Princess.”

Your look was one of shock and of happiness. Feeling bold and even giddy despite your fatigue from the emotions that ran high from this night you feigned uncertainty.

“I might need another kiss, my Prince, if only to be sure that these affections of yours are genuine.”

You were gifted with another chuckle from him and you swore he was a different person when laughter escaped him. “With pleasure, princess.”

He swooped down, rather like the knights in the stories had done, and you felt light as air for a moment, transfixed on the feeling of his lips on yours.

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#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys x reader #hotd x reader

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luvtreides · 2 years

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hey babes!! i noticed ur a dark content blog, and was wondering if you would write for aemond? the reader can be from anywhere just not a targ, i’m tired of all the targ!readers :(( maybe betrothed!reader with aemond having slight yandere tendencies? thank you babes <3333

a/n ahhh!! i totally understand the whole targ!reader, there is only so much incest i can take before i’m out. also, this is short and sweet <3.

warnings slight yandere tendencies, enabler!reader, kinda smut.

He wanted to know what it was like to press his callous hands against your skin, teeth against the flesh of your neck, to see you wither and cry out from underneath him. To hear your voice close to his ear, fingernails digging into the flesh of his skin, and legs wrapping around his waist. You were a dream, the only dream, that Aemond found himself wanting to come true.

The betrothal of you both had been announced at a feast held by his father, welcoming your family into theirs with a happy smile and hopes of a bright future for the betrotheds and your family’s house. Your family was a lowly house in Crownlands, and Aemond wasn’t too sure why his father approved of the betrothal that his mother was so vehemently against.

You were quite the spitfire when railed up, and since you hated the court so much, your annoyance was always at an all time high. Aemond had quickly grown tired of it, and decided that he would have to simply take you everywhere with him. It was obvious your interests didn’t lie with powdered words and false laughs, but with exploring the city and watching the tiltyard. Both something he could provide.

Aemond had always been aware of his tendencies and faults, and he doesn’t quite remember when his possessiveness began, just that one day, he saw Cole speaking with you and it awoke something within him. He wasn’t naïve enough to think Cole wanted anything from you, and it definitely stemmed from his own feelings against his mother’s loyal hound. He led the two of you out of the tiltyard only seconds later, and his eye glared at Cole the entire time.

He knew it was getting worse when Aegon made a comment about your hips and bosom, and that had been the first time Aemond had ever put a blade against his brother’s throat. The fallout of the entire situation left him banished to his apartments for the next fortnight, and his weapons confiscated by the orders of his father.

He knew, sitting in his rooms on the sixth night, that he had a problem. A problem that he wasn’t willing to fix. Just six days without seeing your face, hearing your voice, left him angered beyond belief. Why should he be punished when his brother made such comments about his betrothed, his wife to be? Aemond cared not if his mother wanted him alive and well in order to usurp their older sister’s claim.

On the seventh night, when the guards began their rotation, Aemond snuck out. Quick down the stairs, and through long and winding corridors to reach the Maidenvault. Finding your rooms was easy, and slipping pass the dozing guards was even easier. And at last, Aemond laid his eyes upon your sleeping form once more. He stalked across the room, a hand reaching out to shake you awake.

“Wha— Ah! Wait — Aemond?” You gasp, eyes widening at the sight of him. “It has yet been a fortnight, what is it you’re doing?”

“I had to see you again, ñuha perzys,” He whispered, lowering to sit on the edge of your bed. “I fear I cannot go so long without looking upon your beautiful face.”

You raise a brow, “Tis only a fortnight. And, for good reason! You nearly killed your brother and—”

“For you, perzys,” Aemond cut her off, eye widening into something deranged. “I would kill everyone if it meant looking upon your face, hearing your sweet voice,” He trailed off with a faraway look for a moment, not noticing your look of disbelief and slight fear.

“You cannot mean that,” You insist. “You have only known me for five moons.”

Aemond gave a soft look, so uncharacteristic on his usual stoic face. “You understand me, ñuha perzys. You see me for who I am. You do not balk at the sight of my eye. You defend me when no one else has. Be it five moons or five years, I will do everything in my power to see you. Burn the world, if I must.”

You open your mouth, closing it soon afterwards, at a lost for words. Then, then, you grace Aemond with smile that forced the sun to pale in comparison. You sit up properly, face to face with Aemond, and cup his cheeks with your hands. “If I wanted diamonds and gems?” You wonder.

“Then diamonds and gems you shall have,” He inched closer, allowing your hands to grip his and guide them underneath your silk smooth shift.

“If I wanted all the gold from all the Magisters of the Free Cities?” You pull yourself closer, lips close enough to touch his.

“The gold will be yours,” He murmured, lost in your eyes, lost in your silky voice and smooth flesh underneath his trailing fingertips. Your fingers guided his towards your wet cunt.

“What if I wanted the Iron Throne. Would you give it to me?” Your voice ended in a needy whimper, eyes resembling that of a doe’s, as if it were an innocent question. With no merit behind it.

“I’ll conquer the Seven Kingdoms as my ancestor had, and lay it beneath your feet, if you so much as ask for it,” He groaned when his fingers sank inside your dripping cunt, worship in his tone.

Your giggle turned into a moan, as he pushed you onto your back, fingers working in and out of your cunt. “I’ll hold —ah— you to that.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #tw.yandere

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sleeplessdreamer123 · 1 year

Text

Fanfic Idea! (Lucemond, part 3 of where Lucerys is dead, until he isn't)

Part 2:

Aemond thinks his nephew is strange, so strange in fact he was considering Lucerys either being a Dragon Dreamer, like his half-sister thinks, or someone having succumbed to madness, like his mother thinks whenever he writes to her about him.

Aemond would notice him talking to empty spaces, to the walls, to a tree, hells, he entered his room and saw him talking to the waters in his bath. He would then stop, as if waiting for a reply, before talking again.

Aemond says nothing to Rhaenyra, or to Rhaenys, or Corlys or any of them. He swore to Lucerys, and unless he believes that Lucerys would be harmed in any way (honestly, the way amount of times he hears Lucerys talk to the air makes him wonder if it could be considered an endangerment) he would not say anything.

He is having a bit of trouble with Lucerys. More specifically, his actions beyond speaking to an invisible audience.

Lucerys is odd in many ways, Aemond understands that it might be because he was dead for a few minutes, he might have lost certain thinking capabilities, because there is no other way in the seven hells to explain how Lucerys doesn't understand what he was doing to him.

It started small, Lucerys standing a bit closer to Aemond in certain times, usually after his "talks", as if something spooked him enough to seek Aemond's presence. Aemond can deal with that. After all, he was trained to grab Lucerys and shield him from any possible danger, so having Lucerys instinctively going to him would make his job easier.

Then came the unnecessary touching. One moment Aemond was standing guard behind him, the next second he would feel cool fingers grasping at his cloak, at his arm, at his hands, for no apparent reason. And the way he acts! He's always too close for comfort, face centimeters away from his own. Luckily he outgrew Lucerys enough so he won't be able to practically shove his nose so close to his cheek, (which was easy seeing as he was growing slower than anyone else). And his whispering, hells his whispering!

One moment they were walking along the hallways and the next second Lucerys would be pulling Aemond down and whispering orders. It was fine as a child, he would understand, but he's already almost a grown man, yet he still does it, whispering things in his ear, his breath so close to his neck as he warns him of another assassination attempt down the hall or to order him to capture some assassin dressed as a servant plotting to poison Lord Corlys.

It was uncomfortable enough in the earlier years, but now that he...knows more about himself...in certain terms...of enjoying goose instead of roast ducks...

And having the person of his desire being so close, so unaware that his mere touch was enough to send him reeling for days, well, he was glad he trained himself for self-control, despite Daemon teachings, telling him to do whatever he wished outside of guarding Lucerys (he doubts Daemon would allow him to do whatever he wished with his step-son, so he wisely kept to himself).

Lucerys might be the crazy one, but it was Aemond who was being driven insane. And gods is it hard to keep himself as sane as possible to act as a loyal guard. And the little brat doesn't know. He just doesn't know, and he intends to keep it that way.

Otherwise his half-sister would have his head, and his uncle, though favoring him from time to time, would gladly serve it on a silver platter for his sister to do whatever she pleases.

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

Hehehe, so this is back. Enjoy😁

#lucemond #aemond x lucerys #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #lucerys x aemond #aemond one eye #sworn sword Aemond #he is going insane with Lucerys being all touchy.#he just doesnt understand what he's doing to him

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onesapphireeye · 1 year

Text

dragon rider

You'd be lying if you said you weren't a massive fan of the rock group, The Valyrians. In fact, you did lie on your job application. Now, in your new position, you were their loyal servant in every sense of the word. Nonetheless, when their belongings start to vanish, Aemond begins to imagine you're the culprit and has finally caught you in the act.

modernband!aemond x reader.

warnings: NSFW. Not for minors. fingers in a v. use of she/her for reader. some cussing. bisexual reader. reader is a kleptomaniac.

nori says: i love you guys and i love that you loved my band au edit!!! this is not beta read. xoxo

word count: 1,670~

"You've really got to be joking." Rhaena's angelic voice cut through the air, and you looked from your feet to the pile of odds and ends gathered around your backpack. "Stealing is one thing, but the things you chose are plain weird."

"Stealing is wrong, no matter what you take," Helaena chided from the doorway. "I understand wanting trinkets, but please stop."

"She can't stop. Look at all this shit—you're a fucking pervert." Baela muttered. You couldn't find a way to disagree.

Your backpack was stuffed with an eclectic mix of their most personal possessions. It started with an innocent intention—to return Hel's ladybug scrunchie that you'd seen her leave behind in the dressing room five cities ago.

But then, you saw Rhae's lip gloss laying on a counter and couldn't resist taking it. You remembered watching her apply it, in that slow sexy way where not a spot on her lips wasn't shiny, and went back to the hotel and practically made out with the wand.

Baela's favorite bra had been the riskiest thing until today, your heart beat rapidly every time you heard her complain to the stylist about how it had come up missing. You liked to wear it as you finger fucked yourself, imagining her arms were the ones wrapped around you.

There were other things too.

Thank you cards meant for other fans, a pair of socks, earrings from all of them, Baela's gua sha roller, Helaena's set of butterfly hair clips, Rhaena's colored pencils and a sketch pad... Even a used compostable coffee cup.

You had collected so much from the girls. You didn't want to forget how special they had made you feel when this job was over. They had been so, so good to you, including you in everything, making you feel less like a lackey and more like one of them. You had gone above and beyond being just an admirer, you were obsessed. You wanted that feeling to last forever.

"We don't have time for this!" Baela shouted, "I want everything that you took back and you better be cool about it. I don't want any Yolanda Saldívar shit happening."

"Baela!" The other two girls tried to reign in their drummer, but she was adamant.

"No, don't Baela me! Clearly she's insane and out of line." You watched the girls' feet walk out of the room and winced when the door slammed behind them. Thankfully, they took it better than you expected and, most importantly, you hadn’t been fired yet.

You were about to go for your backpack when you noticed Aemond was still in the room. He snagged it up and began to rifle through your treasures. Your eyes finally lifted from the ground and you frowned at him. You sighed in annoyance when he pulled out the pair of underwear you had managed to get from Rhaena today. He gave a quizzical raise of an eyebrow and a smirk etched onto his lips, but he didn't seem to be judging you and that made the hair on the back of your neck raise in a pleasant way.

"What did you take of mine?" Aemond spoke for the first time since he had called the girls in here after catching you zipping up your back pack. You had seen him watching you for the last few days, but the thrill of taking something new outweighed your sense of self preservation.

In truth, you hadn't taken anything of Aemond's. He had been your reason for applying for this job in the first place, but you came to realize that his blasé blah stage persona was real. In the beginning of the tour, he had been... well you couldn't quite say warm, but he had been warmer toward you. Now, he was all stares and silence.

His eyes seemed to be constantly on you, he'd linger around and watch, but you did whatever you could to try to put him in awkward circumstances. Like bending over for too long and then glancing over to see if he was peeking up your skirt. The answer was always yes, but he never looked embarrassed when caught.

"Why would I take anything of yours?" You gave him a smile that was all teeth and more of a snarl. You had long ago dropped the shy girl act you put on for the others. He wasn't nice to you, so fuck him.

"Do you think I'd want to remember you, Aemond?" You heard him suck his teeth and watched as he dropped the backpack to step closer to you. He was so tall, looming over you, but you didn't back down. Instead, you matched his gaze with your own heated intensity. "Or are you just upset I don't get aroused by the thought of you?"

His eyes glowed with something that made you think you misread his previous intentions. Maybe he hadn't been acting nonchalant? Maybe he genuinely wanted you?

You decided to test your theory.

"Poor little neglected, Aemond. Upset the crazy girl didn't take anything from him?"

He grabbed your lower face with one of his large hands, the studded rings on his fingers were warm and pressed into your skin ever so slightly. "There's nothing little about me, Sweetheart."

Aemond's thumb came to trace your bottom lip and you bit it playfully. His eyes watched in fascination as you sucked it into your mouth. "Your mouth is as naughty as your thoughts, huh?" he said as he pushed it deeper, so that all you could do was moan in response.

He pulled his finger from your mouth, only to lean down and replace it with his tongue. Your body reacted to the sensation with a moan of pleasure. His hands moved to your hair, gently pulling it as he kissed you.

You both stumbled backwards until your back hit a wall. He continued to kiss you hungrily, as if he couldn't get enough of you. You opened your eyes to find him watching you intently, and let out a small groan.

Aemond finally broke away from the kiss and looked at you with burning desire in his eyes. "Do you want to remember me?" he asked hoarsely. Without waiting for a response, he hurriedly tugged at his shirt until it was off and tossed away across the room. You gasped at the sight of his bare chest, admiring the hard planes and curves of muscle beneath the smooth skin.

His hands came up to cup your face, and he stared deeply into your eyes before leaning down to press feather-light kisses along your jawline and neck. Your breathing was so loud that it filled the entire room as electricity seemed to travel through every nerve ending in your body. He grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it above your head as one of his legs came between yours trapping you against the wall.

"Say yes," he murmured huskily against your ear before pulling away just enough to look into your eyes again.

"Yes," you nodded vigorously, feeling yourself grow more lost in him with each passing second. "I want to remember you."

He spun you around in a swift and graceful motion, taking you by surprise. Only then did you notice that Aemond had backed you up to the large mirror wall in the dressing room; and you found yourself staring into your own reflection.

You could feel his breath on the back of your neck and it sent a shiver through your body. His hands moved up and down your torso as he held you tight in his embrace, and his lips found the nape of your neck and kissed it lightly.

He started to move his attention lower, squeezing and caressing your hips and ass. You felt your body responding to his touch, and you found yourself pushing back against him as he continued to explore.

There was a mounting pressure between your legs, as Aemond's fingers pulled the bottom hem of your mini skirt up and moved your underwear to the side. He brushed against your clitoris, eliciting another moan from your lips. His other hand massaged your inner thighs, and you could feel yourself getting wet.

He leaned in closer to whisper, his voice low and full of desire. "Yeah, I'll give you a reason to want to remember me." The words sent excitement coursing through your body and you pushed back against him harder, wanting more.

He seemed to understand what you wanted, as he alternated between soft caresses and firmer strokes around your clitoris, teasing it until it was hard and swollen with desire. You were so close now that you could feel your legs trembling as he continued to stroke you nearer to the edge.

The sensations were overwhelming, yet still not enough.

"Aemond," You whimpered out his name. He moved further down and began rhythmically rubbing around your entrance before slipping a finger inside of you.

When you were slick and ready, Aemond added another finger and then another, stretching you wide open as he pumped his hand into your sensitive flesh. You felt yourself beginning to spiral out of control as he moved his fingers in and out of you faster and faster.

You could feel the pleasure radiating throughout your body with every thrust, and you could see your fucked out reflection in the mirror.

Finally, you reached the peak of satisfaction and let out a loud gasp as an intense wave of euphoria swept through you. Your eyes closed in ecstasy. Your body throbbed and your head spun as Aemond continued toying with you until you were completely spent.

As he pulled his fingers out of you, you felt yourself melt against him, exhausted and in awe of the experience you had just shared. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you through the mirror with a satisfied smirk. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and stepped back.

"You're fired."

#norimadeit #my prince #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #hotd imagine #modern aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond smut #he has both eyes okay #dragon rider

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earenwen-leafwhisper · 10 months

Text

Cinderella

"Illustration draw my me"

---- Masterlist ---- Rules for request ----

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x chubby Fem reader

Abstract: A young woman from an archipelago allied to Westeros, did not think that fairy accounts exist or even suspected the charm of a prince.

Author’s note: the release of this One-shot took time because I had to finish the illustration first, I want to thank @avalyaaa who very kindly, saw the sketches for the illustration and encourage.

Trigger Warning : English is not my mother tongue.

---

The kingdom of Y/k/n was located in the west of Westeros, beyond the sea, an island archipelago formed the kingdom, this one was prosperous for several centuries, this prosperity, came from fertile agriculture, from the extraction of ore in long seams in the mines.

The people respected their rulers, for they managed to keep peace with the other kingdoms. Exchanges of food, materials were customary, several lords of Westeros, had united some of their children girl or boy, with merchants or nobles of the kingdom of Y/k/n, perpetuating the peace agreements, hard won.

During the conquest of Westeros, the king of the time allowed people to take refuge from the conquest of Aegon the conqueror. Let it be nobles to peasants. At a time when circular rumours about the possibility of a future war against the monarch Targaryen, the king who although loyal to his kingdom, signed a non-aggression pact between the two kingdoms, he did not want his people to perish in bloodshed and fire. The archipelago retained its sovereignty, remaining an independent kingdom but ally of Westeros. However no marital union was declared, dragons were not allowed to fly around the archipelago, defences made up of various weapons some were throwing heavy projectiles into the sky were a reason alone.

As the centuries passed, peace endured, exchanges continued, the shadows of dragons roamed the sky in the distance, children’s dreaming of theim.

King after king, the people listened and followed their monarchs, looking in the distance at the castle, built on the largest island of the archipelago, its white stones were embedded in the mountain and reflected the light of the sun.

In this castle lived, king Y/f/n was a fair man and concerned about the people, he tried to keep a cordial understanding with Westeros, meaning that his people did not pay the price.

This king was a widower, from his first wife he had with his wife a daughter, whom they named y/n. Although he was a good father, he thought that the love of a mother was indispensable to the happiness of his daughter. He chose a noble woman born on the archipelago, she was recently widowed, and already mother of two daughters, Karoline and Melina, who was the same age as Y/n.

If this second marriage went smoothly, the people happy to have a new queen, it was only at the premature death of the king, that the true nature of his second wife revealed.

She was a cold, calculating and cruel woman, madly jealous of the kindness and attention that Y/n drew around her, the people worshipping their princess and future heiress, but above all she was determined to put the interests of her two female manipulators daughter first.

Over the years, the castle fell into ruins, the new queen regent had nothing to do with the castle, the money of the royal family was squandered to satisfy the whims of the two girls, whether in expensive dresses, fruit to carry from Essos, boat trips to Westeros to try to get them married to a noble house. Y/n deceiving and humiliating at a young age was relegated to the role of servant in her own kingdom. The people no longer heard of her, the queen having declared that their princess was sick and could present herself before them, only vile lies on her part. The last raven from the Targaryen came to leave a message of condolence and then no more news. In spite of this Y/n remained gentle and kind. Knowing that one day the truth would come out, that the world could not be gray and gloomy. She kept the secret hope that her dreams would come true and that her family’s honor would rise from the ashes.

---

The stones once covered with frescoes, were not renewed, leaving the walls to suffer the weather and become gray again. Most of the windows overlooking the kingdom, had their heavy curtains pull, preventing the light. Only one window had no curtain, it was the highest window of the castle, one of the towers of the keep. The light slowly entered the doorway of the window, lighting a small room, advancing minutes after minutes towards a sleeping young woman. The open window allowed the singing of the birds to echo, gently awakening the young woman.

She opened one eye gently, looking around her, and breathed a sigh, reminiscent of the dream she had just had. It stretched out with a few movements, while rising, looking at the window, observing the sky of a clear blue, where no clouds were visible.

“A beautiful day is coming,” she thought.

The young woman put her feet on the ground, slowly remembering the tasks of her day. The room which was the bedroom of the young woman was the smallest room of the castle, made of brick wall covered with white paint yellowed by time, of a floor of oak wood, which was lightened by the sun. From a single window open to the outside of the castle. In one corner of the room was a bed that took up much of the space, a small bedside table where a candle was placed, a closet that looked more like a broom closet closed by a wooden door, on a small shelf, there were two frames in which portraits of her parents were placed. On the other side of her room, there was a screen of his favorite color inherited from her mother. A copper soup bowl that served to hold the water for his morning bath and a boudoir.

At the first blow of bells, she began to prepare herself, quickly spanking her toilet before dressing up and hanging her apron around her neck and her plump hips. The young woman looked in the mirror to make sure that her outfit was properly fitted, she could see her hair y/h/c stylized in a way that her hair would not interfere with her future tasks. Her dress in earth tones, was well placed, the strict cut did not allow the birth of a possible neckline, this outfit was made only for work and nothing else. It changed a lot of the dresses the young woman wore as a child. This young woman remembered pretty dress in Y/f/c color, where beads and small stones were embroidered, but remembering seemed very distant. Just like the memories of her parents before her mother-in-law arrived. The life of a princess no longer existed.

---

Y/n went down the many steps that made up the stairs of the tower, passing through several rangers of stairs, corridors and the inner courtyard of the castle, going towards a dark wooden door and worn out by time, taking it towards the sub-floors where kitchens were installed.

In the kitchens, the few servants always at the service of Madame and her daughters, set to work. All had known Y/n’s father and supported the young woman, knowing that the situation was complicated and their uprisings would have led to more trouble for Y/N.

It was with a smile that the young woman arrived, she greeted the servants present, wishing them a good day, before preparing the morning meal of the animals who lived in the enclosure of the castle, including the preparation of the grain for poultry, hay for cows and horses, taking time to fill the dishes of stray dogs and cats passing through the castle, but who were each time hunted by her mother-in-law, the said woman loved very little, and pets were not a part of it.

The servants had orders never to help Y/n in her chores, whatever the difficulty, because Madame was watching over the grain and had ensured a great punishment. The few who rebelled in the early years had ended up whipping blood, others were locked in the castle dungeon. The servants present watched Y/n place the food bowls in a large wicker basket, taking it with one arm and catching a large, heavy bag of grain on her opposite shoulder, the servants, every day had to see the young woman although robust bend under the weight of successive sacks, bales of hay and mockery of the people who were to be her family.

One of the remorseful servants began to heat the water for the tea of the dreadful mother and daughters sleeping upstairs. Screams call the young woman, was about to begin.

When Y/n entered the kitchen, she saw that all she had to do was pour the hot water and take the hot buns freshly bought by one of the servants in the city. She silently thanked her friends, and began to finish the preparations, not noticing a cat hanging around the silver cups filled with tea, as the whisper-like cries began to reason in the empty and dusty halls of the castle, distracting her.

---

Y/n crossed the kitchens, exited into the inner courtyard, to climb endless stairs and walk through many corridors, the trays place on his arms.

Melina preferred not to be awakened before her servant arrived to dress her, so her tray was left at the entrance of her room. Karoline, wanted to leave her tray in her room, her hot tea, while she took her morning bath. As for Madame, she wanted Y/n to put her tray in her room on the desk where she had to leave scrolls devoured by moths.

Everything was in the best of worlds, all seemed satisfied with the service.

It was without counting, a shrill cry, which made the windows tremble, slightly out of their hinges.

“Oh no…”

Heart pounding, hoping to have imagined having heard this cry, Y/n did not move from the stairs. Her hands trembled, her breathing accelerated, a fear she knew all too well, swelling in her belly.

She saw Madame’s daughters running near, from the corridors of their apartments, one of them half dressed, her servant running to destroy her, holding the ties of her dress. The second arrived barefoot, lifting her dress to her knees not to trip over the bottom of her dress. Their eyes crossed Y/n’s eyes, silently accusing without knowing the reason for the screaming, the young woman. They plunged into their mother’s chambers, worried about their mother’s cry. The ears of Y/n whistled, she felt that a punishment would fly against her.

"Y/N! Come here now!"

She felt her feet moving without even having the desire to advance, going up the steps as slowly as possible, walking the few steps that separated her from the dark room of her mother-in-law.

To say that Madame’s room was dark was an understatement, no light entered except the light of the hallway, hiding at the bottom of her bed, only the reflection of the light in the old woman’s eyes showed her presence in the room. The daughters were sent out, and although they were not satisfied, she did what their mothers ordered, for even they feared the matriarch.

“You started to hide things.”

“Madame, I don’t know what's...”

“Silence! You know exactly what you did.”

“I don’t know, I swear, I made your tea like every day…”

"Enough! I know you’re lying, you never loved me, you want revenge. I understand, but I’m the only family you have left, understand the good. Without me you have nothing!”

“Yes Madame…”

“To punish you, you will be deprived of food, let it be a lesson, and maybe it will help you lose weight.” said Madame with a smirk.

With her heart hurting, Y/n had to bow slightly to her mother-in-law, as she had violently taught her, at least this time, the punishment was not directly physical.

The day must have been beautiful, quite the contrary.

---

Y/n climbed the water from the well of the great court, when she saw a Herault, wearing a black tunic, on which was placed a armor, pass the guards and the great door that separated the castle from the people.

Surprised she looked at the man walking towards the great gate of the castle, knowing that she was not to interfere at all with Madame’s business, she filled a bucket of water, and left with it in the direction of the large basin where the washers washed the linen.

The song of the birds, like sweet music, reasoned in the gardens on this sweet spring afternoon. Although the archipelago was in temperate waters and the sun was mild. It was always more pleasant to wash the laundry in a warm water by the heat of the sun, than under the cold wind in the late afternoon, where the water is so cold that at the end of the chore, the fingers were so cold, that they became numb.

The washers were squatting around the basin, dirty laundry was placed in large wooden basins, a smell of plants, flowers and soap emanated from the water, many of the women sang songs that had been passed on to them by their parents or other servants. Others talked about their other chores, or the actions of Madame and her daughters.

Y/n placed her water seal next to the eldest of the washers, the old woman’s back was bent under the weight of years and arthritis, preventing her from lifting too heavy objects. She stayed a few minutes with them, participating in the conversations more or less silently.

It was only at her call that Y/n stopped talking.

"Princess! Princess!"

It was Foulques, the old maester who had seen her grow up.

“We received a herald from Westeros. The Targaryen seal the scroll. It’s for your family.”

Foulques, put with his trembling hands, wrinkled skin and moles appear, the parchment in the hands of Y/n.

Y/n looked at the parchment with hesitation, although she wanted to read what was written on it, it had worked for a long time since the last message.

"Have you told Madame?"

Several washerwomen spit on the ground to mention the dreadful woman.

“No princess, it makes more sense to me that it should come back to you.”

“You’re well aware of what would happen if she found out?”

“Yes, but if someone could help you in your situation, they would definitely be the most powerful family in Westeros.”

Her desire to read the parchment was powerful, but her fear of Madame’s blows was much more powerful. It was against her heart that she had to convince the maester to warn her mother-in-law, finding as a compromise that she followed him in the throne room.

---

Y/n followed the maester in the direction of the great throne room where Madame was, the great room was originally decorated with gold and jewels, large tapestries telling the royal story, while celebrating the ingenious talant of the guilds of the archipelago. Madame dressed in a long black dress, from the collar up to below her chin, sat on the throne, dictating orders to servants, in a room now covered with spider’s web on the high ceilings, where the tapestries were torn off and the walls crumbled.

“Madame, a messenger from Westeros just dropped off a scroll.”

"Give me this!"

Madam, raised her left arm in the direction of the young woman, making gestures of the hand to encourage Y/n to approach. The parchment was plucked from her hands, when she was reachable, the daughters of Madame, who were present at their mother’s side, approached her, also wanting to read the parchment.

"Listen! The king and queen of Westeros, decreed the preparation of a great ball! All the young women of good families are invited. This ball is being announced for Prince Aemond Targaryen to find a bride.”

"Oh that’s fantastic!" said one of the first girls.

"I would be a real princess," said the second, beginning to dance clumsily.

“That means I can participate,” says Y/n.

“What do you mean? With rags? You saw how fat you are, I’m sure the prince won’t even notice you.” Both girls were annoyed.

“After all, I am of this family. You said it yourself. I am of noble birth. I am also a guest.” Y/n no longer paid attention to the mockery of her sisters-in-law. Look into the eyes of her mother-in-law, with her head held high.

"Enough! You can come." Madame had spoken, her daughters were beginning to contradict her. “As long as you finish all your chores before we head to King’s Landing.”

"Thank you Madame."

It is joyful that Y/n left the room, setting off in the direction of the tasks assigned to her, not paying attention to Madame’s smirk.

---

The trunks were prepared, the carriage repaired and cleaned. Y/n stood by her little trunk made of wood and leather, she was of medium size, lying down she reached her knees. The trunks of her in-laws took up much more space, the girls each had two large trunks only for their dresses, not to mention the smallest for the underwear, stockings, shoes and accessories. Her mother-in-law took only a large trunk where her belongings could return without difficulty.

The trunks were attached to the carriage, failing to fall more than once on the way from the castle to the port.

The windows of the carriage were obstructed, Y/n sitting opposite her from her in-laws, had to restrain herself from moving the small curtain from the window to her left, it now did what seemed to her an eternity that she had not seen the streets of the city and its inhabitants, she wondered how the children she played with as a child had become, whether they were married, had children, whether they still lived on this island. But though the desire to know all this burned within her. The cold, calculating look of her mother-in-law gave her chills, she watched.

Y/n including directly what was hidden in the eyes of the people, going up into the boat by a bridge away from the eyes, she had to sleep near the goods, away from the eyes of the passengers. Although she was sad about the fate reserved for her, an anger was born in her, more and more noisy, screaming that she had to free herself. But each time, she convinced herself that it was not the right time, once she arrived on Westeros, she could think about it.

The vessel was making the longest voyage, Madame having ordered the captain to dock directly at the port of King’s Landing, wanting a grand arrival for her legitimate daughters. From two days of sailing and a week to travel Westeros in a straight line, it lengthened by one more week, skirting the coasts of Dornes, deviating from the path, classic to avoid corals and bottom too low to sail in peace, fortunately avoiding very frequent storms along the way and having a very favorable wind to the chosen path.

---

The grand entrance if desired was unfortunately for them, foil by a natural element. Rain.

The voluminous robes of the sisters-in-law were waterlogged, preventing them from walking without tripping because of their weight. Madame fulmina, the few people present of several mestres began to mock her daughters. Seen from the corner of the eye, Y/n go discreetly in the direction of the coach charter to bring them to their Inn.

Oh yes an Inn and not apartments in the Red Keep, the delay taken by the change of route made them arrive last. Relegating them to the same level of noble houses and poorer than others.

---

The inn was dark, but welcoming, much more than the corridors of the archipelago’s castle, less dusty, there were more candles to light the place despite the lack of windows.

Madame asked for the most remote room for Y/n, asking in a dry tone of voice, that no one be in contact with her, forbidding her any visit of the city, even accompanied.

The room of Y/n was for what we can say spartan, a bed with mattress made of straw, a small window turn towards the castle, walls of torchis crack a wardrobe to the door brinquebalante and to fill it all, a very strong smell of enclose. The place seemed more like a prison than a room.

---

The first few days, Y/n keep, day and night, the small window open to help her get rid of the ambient smell, she dared not remove her clothes from her trunk, prefer to leave them in safety, taking only when appropriate clothes.

From her window, she could see at times dragons flying around the castle, from one huge, much larger than the others, that she wondered how it had reached such a size, was it due to its food? Imagining the quantities of meat she had chills in the back, an army would not have been enough to feed the beast.

The day of the ball was approaching, as was her nervousness. Was she going to live up to the event? Could she participate without an intervention of her mother-in-law? How was the prince? She had no idea, but kept the hope that for one night she could be who she was, a princess and not a servant.

---

At sunset, on the night of the ball, Madame had allowed Y/n to leave her room, but had not allowed anyone, to the point of paying the employees, to help the young woman prepare. But his attempts to prevent a young woman from participating in the ball were null.

As Y/n walked down the stairs, she realized that her plans were being undermined.

The young woman, even without help, had managed to put on her dress. It was Y/f/c, the latest fashion in the archipelago. A soft neckline underlined the young woman’s chest. Her make-up was light due to lack of materials and her desire not to resemble her sisters-in-law’s one-layer make-up reminded her of the gesso layers used for paints.

Her sisters-in-law were furious, for although the young woman was rounder than they were, a sweet aura emanated from her, an elegance they could not achieve. Both began to complain when their mother approached Y/n.

“Beautiful, it’s true, this color suits you.”

Madame walked around Y/n watching her with disdain from head to toe.

“Well, let’s go.”

A weight on the shoulders of Y/n withdrew when she left the inn. The biggest had just passed, she had no longer crossed her fingers for the journey to go awkward.

This was without counting on her sisters-in-law.

All four had to walk in the alley where the inn was to take the carriage in the main street, other coaches were placed in the alley, but had blocked each other, as it was narrow, If the one at the entrance didn’t move, neither did the others.

The day before, the rain had once again fallen on King’s Landing, The cobblestones were wet on both sides of the road, large puddles of water and parchment mud parched the alley.

Melina and Karoline complained about the humidity, explaining to their mother that their dresses would be destroyed by the mud.

“You don’t have to walk on the pavement, you’re not commoners, the mud isn’t for you.”

Her two daughters looked at each other for a few seconds before turning in the direction of Y/n. The young woman did not pay attention to her in-laws, preferring to observe the city, the people she met, smiling at the children.

All of a sudden, Y/n felt hands resting on her back, pushing her forward, she tried to catch up but the slippery pavement made her trip, in a fragment of a second, she found herself lying face down in the mud. Her ears were buzzing, her heart pounding, she thought her blood was freezing. Trying to get up, she felt a small pain in her hands, they were scratched due to the fall. Two laughs were quickly heard, which was the only laughter she heard.

"Oh, poor Y/N, you are relegated to your rank," said Melina in a mean voice.

Y/n got up with difficulty, the bottom of her dress was torn during her fall, mud covered her face and her clothes deformed by the weight of water and mud. Her hands were shaking, her breathing rampaging.

“You’re not going to go with us looking like a sow, go back to the inn, we’ll discuss this when we get back.”

Madame with a mischievous smile began to walk in the direction of the carriage, her daughters following her closely. A few passers-by approached Y/n wanting to know if she had hurt herself in her fall. But all that Y/n could do with the feeling of betrayal was to flee. Her steps carried her to the sandstone of the wind. Passing through different streets, small and large, taking her to one of the gates of the city walls, she passed it, not paying attention where she was resting only well away from the ramparts.

If anyone could have said the place was dangerous, Y/n would not have listened to them as she was devastated.

---

Y/n collapsed on the ground covered with dead leaf, breathless and exhausted.

As the sun set, she paid no attention to the animals present, nor to the sounds they made.

“Honey, it’s gonna be okay.”

Y/n raised his frightened head and looked, the woman standing in front of her, this woman wore thin wings almost transparent in the back, a long hooded dress of a blue king, which hid her white hair for the most part.

"Who are you?"

The old woman kept a warm smile on her lips.

"A fairy?"

"Ah? Dragons can exist and not fairies?"

“Oh forgive me…”

“Don’t worry, I know this is new to you.”

The fairy asked her why she was in such that state, as the story progressed, the fairy, gnashed her teeth. The young woman might have believed that flames appeared in the woman’s eyes.

“We’re not going to let them win! I’m going to let you go to the ball.”

“I don’t want to go anymore… What’s the point?”

“Oh dear child, there’s so much more you can imagine there.”

The fairy godmother began to look around her, seeming to be looking for something. The fairy began to think several minutes before raising her right hand in the air.

“What do we need… Oh yes I know! A carriage!”

Suddenly, roots began to grow and move towards the fairy, taking with them pieces of wood, iron and plants. Under the fairy’s enchantment, the pieces of wood and metal began to fly, gathering, a carriage beginning to form before her eyes, the plants were used to plug the places that were not comparing wood and metal, slowly solidifying, forming vegetal forms accentuating the basic structure before the eyes of the young woman, adorning herself with the coats of arms of her family, wearing colors and gilding. At the same time, squirrels began to fly, gradually turning into four dashing horses. A fox began to fly in the direction of the carriage, its hairs began to change shapes and color, the animal gradually transformed into a man wearing a tunic with Y/k/n coats of arms, he became the coachman. A last animal, a greyhound also began to fly away, grow, and the hairs transformed into a human in the same outfit as the fox, he became footman.

Y/n was blown away, she thought she had gone crazy or fell asleep, dreaming everything that was happening. Although she thanked the fairy, she was still not sure if she wanted to go to the ball. Or even if she could trust that person. The fairy noticed the young woman’s outfit, it is ruminant that she transformed the clothes of Y/n, these transformed into an elegant dress Y/f/c, with advantageous neckline without being provocative, it was not typical of the archipelago.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfect for this event.”

Y/n looked at her feet when she felt light tingling at her feet. She saw beautiful glass shoes, pure sapphire blue

The young woman had learned many years rather than that everything had a price, and all this, had to be of a gigantic cost.

"I... I cannot accept all this. I don’t know if you are really a fairy and not a witch in disguise. Everything at a price, and I’m afraid it will be more than I can offer.”

"You are destined to be taller than a mere servant, and you know this very well in the depths of your being. You’ll understand later, now go to the Red Keep, your destiny awaits you.”

The fairy gently took Y/n’s arm helping her to get into the carriage. Closing the door, she spoke again.

“But be careful, because at the twelfth bell, ringing midnight, the spell will be broken.”

Y/n looked at the woman, understanding that this was to be part of the price to be paid, and kept the warning in mind, she wanted to ask questions but was stopped, the carriage starting to set out at the time the missing fairy.

---

At King’s Landing, the ball festivities were in full swing. Street shows were held, a parade of young women also animated the life of the city. One after the other, they were heading towards the Red Keep. Day after day, the number of girls did not decrease.

Alicent was beginning to lose patience, his second son had to find a wife from whom the family had armed forces in sufficiency, and from power on Westeros could tip the advantage for his children, in case of open conflict with Rhaenyra. Otto was placed next to his daughter and told her that the best solution would have been to choose an arranged marriage rather than letting the prince choose.

For several hours the noblest young women had presented themselves to the prince, but Aemond had little interest in it, feeling his boredom rise in him. Alicent was getting more and more annoyed, the incessant words of her father did not help her.

On the announcement of young women arriving from a country allied to Westeros, Alicent looked, seeing two young women, at the makeup more than outrageous. Aemond’s only valid eye was more than frustrated.

“Lady Karoline and Meline de (name of their mother), adopted daughters of the deceased king of the kingdom of Y/k/n.”

Otto hearing the name of the kingdom and seeing the young women told himself that they looked nothing like the girl she met a long time ago on a trip to strengthen connections with the Y/h/n family.

While Alicent sighed more than hopeless about the situation, Otto began to speak to her.

"What did you think? Having a prince of Targaryen blood as an ally would bring many people. And then do you think that at the corner of a corridor, a young woman would arrive and attract Aemond’s gaze?"

Alicent looked in the direction of his son, seeing him walking towards the big door, pushing the two dreadful young women on his way, spanking them with screaming voices. Intrigued, she stared at her son, avoiding looking away at the arrival of an alcoholic Aegon.

Aemond, on his side, had seen a round young woman who seemed more beautiful than any jewel of Westeros, arriving. She was about her age. She seemed lost and alone in the castle, something in her attracted him and he did not understand what was, he must have known.

Alicent saw her son approach and finally land a young woman, and ordered the guards to prevent anyone from disturbing the prince.

“Oh, this is getting interesting.”

“Aegon. Don’t bother your brother.”

“He has so much to learn.”

“Listen to your mother.”

Otto looked at Aegon, knowing that arriving at a certain number of jugs of wine, he could become a pleasure for his brother. A maester discreetly entered the great hall, heading towards Queen Alicent. The maester explained that the king had asked for it, she asked Otto to take care of everything. Let nothing happen to the prince and the young woman.

---

It was with a mutual charm that the two young men began to approach, the fact that Aemond was one-eyed did not put off Y/n. Oh no, an almost bewitching charm took away the young man who had accosted him. It is almost hypnotized, that both began to discuss, forgetting both being of royal birth, the musicians present began to play their music, taking with her, the guests, Aemond, extended his hand towards the young woman, Although he did not like the idea of dancing, his mother the queen had told him enough, that certain protocol had to be respected, the dance was part of it. Y/n saw the outstretched hand of the young man with the long silver hair, the heart palpitating and a feeling of warmth rising in her, Y/n accepted, secretly hoping not to have forgotten the dance lessons she had when her father was still alive.

---

When the young couple moved through the castle to the gardens, then outside the castle enclosure, skirting the niche of Vhaegar, the guards remained close, not too close to avoid disturbing them but enough to prevent anyone from bothering them.

Vhagar, on her side, watched her master walk alongside a young woman, first of all awakening to the slightest risk that could happen, and she realized, seeing the gestures of the two persons, that nothing was going to happen to Aemond, She had seen it many generations before.

The stars illuminated the sky, giving a heavenly atmosphere to the evening.

---

It was without realizing that the first sounds of bells began to ring. If the first two Y/n did not pay attention, she began to panic.

“Oh… I can’t stay…”

"But why?"

“The prince…I didn’t see the prince.”

“So you don’t know…”

Other bells resounded in the city. Y/n started running towards his carriage, shoving the guards in places, narrowly avoiding getting caught by Otto who, just a moment seemed to recognize the young woman.

Running down the stairs, avoiding falling, she lost one of her glass shoes, but time was running out and the guards and the king’s hand would chase after her.

Y/n barely got into her carriage when a guard was about to grab her by an arm.

All the horsemen brought by Otto chased the carriage in the colors Y/h/c. All saw the rear that it the bells sounded the closing of all the doors of the city walls. When Otto saw the doors closed and realized that the young woman had no way to escape, but was stunned, as she was turning through one of the streets taken by the carriage, there was nothing left but wooden planks, plants and metal, lay on the ground, walking down the street, he didn’t see a living soul.

---

Y/n did not know how she did to be back in her room of the inn, when she woke up, her dress had disappeared, she first believed in a dream, but when she placed her feet on the ground, she felt that one of her feet was wearing a shoe, a blue sapphire shoe. Realizing that the night had indeed taken place and that she had indeed met her beautiful stranger, hiding the shoe, she heard her sisters-in-law arrive, their nauseating mockery, audible through the door.

"So how’s spending your night alone here?"

“Calm… Did you meet the prince?”

«Of course what do you think» Karoline was bitten alive, always humiliating the treatment received by the prince.

“He spent most of the night wooing us.”

Y/n could recognize the lie in the voices of her sisters-in-law, she could not ask them any more questions, Madame went up the screaming stairs.

“My children! I have a great announcement for you!”

The three young women turned in the direction of the door which opened with a bang, Madame entered, her hair ruffled gave her a look of a person not virtuous.

“A castle announcement has been made! The King has decreed that all the young women of King’s Landing go to the castle. They are looking for the young woman who took the prince’s heart. “ She glanced at his daughters. “Get ready, be presentable, we’ll leave as soon as possible.”

Y/n the throbbing heart did not believe his ears, the prince was looking for a young woman, maybe she could find her stranger in the castle. Lost in her thoughts, she heard that at the last moment the door closed in a cloud of dust.

“I will release you once one of my daughters has married the prince.”

Y/n approached the door, grabbing the clink wanting to open the door but encountering only resistance, the young woman began to scream and beat at the door. Asking to be released. But no answer.

At the entrance of the inn Madame”paid the employees, to keep her locked up, ordering them not to let anyone help Y/n.

---

In the castle, the servants and knights walked the corridors quickly, all the young women came one after the other, since the announcement, whether it was from the commoner to the young noble woman.

The king was not present in the throne room, the shoe was placed on a cushion in the colors of the Targaryen, in the center of the room, Aemond was standing surrounded by Aegon, Helaena, Alicent and Otto. He could recognize the young woman he was sure of, but the shoe test only confirmed more officially the refusal of the prince.

Otto Hightower, who thought again and again how the young woman could disappear, raised his eyes in the direction of the great door and was greeted by the most disastrous vision he could see. An old sour woman and two young women who unfortunately would be more likely to find love with the local blacksmith than with Prince Aemond.

“The King decreed that all young women to be married should try the glass shoe, in case the shoe is in the right size, the Prince will marry the young woman, which will make her Princess Targaryen.”

These words were repeated to every young woman.

It was with a sigh that the royal family saw, the young women began to fight to proclaim that the shoe was theirs, without thinking that a charm was spelling the shoe, preventing anyone from wearing it, igniting the feet, or shrinking on the feet of all young women who were not its owner.

---

Y/n locked in her room, screaming and drumming at the door, seeing that no one was going to help her, she looked at the small window, she was too small for her to pass but maybe by luck someone was going to hear her.

In the alley, knights walked through each building, forcing all the young women out, forming lines of people.

Criston Cole, who led the search, saw a knight approaching while running.

“Sir, a young woman screams for help in an inn, they refuse to let her out.”

Cole frowned, ordering the knight to guide him to the inn. Crossing the streets, Criston heard the screams of a young woman, he started to run, the order was to give that all young women be introduced, no one will go against the throne.

Employees seeing guards approaching the castle began to wonder if letting the person be locked up was always a good idea. Seeing that no one was moving, Criston passed over the employees, the knights holding them in the entrance, going up the steps, he looked for where the voice came from. Continuing up the steps he finally saw an isolated door, the cries came from there.

In decided to break down the door, giving several blows with force, fortunately, the door in poor condition did not last long. The door came out of its hinges and fell to the ground. Y/n remained silent, seeing a knight at the entrance of his room.

"Are you all right?"

Y/n shook hrr head, having lost her words, now everything was fine.

---

By nightfall, the crowd was only beginning to fade, hoping to find the young woman as well.

Only three people remained, although the shoe test was disastrous for them. What annoyed Alicent, so much she wanted to see them flee the castle.

At the level of the large gate she could see Cole enter, the search had to be completed. He approached the queen.

“Majesty, the search is over, we found a young woman locked up and brought her here.”

When Y/n entered the throne room, Aemond recognized her directly. Madame, I recognized her too, quickly.

“Oh it’s nobody, just our servant.”

"Why did you lock her up in this case?" Alicent looked at the frightening woman with a questioning look.

“I am not a servant. I am Y/n Y/h/n, true heiress of the Y/k/n. kingdom.”

Alicent looked at Otto for confirmation of the words spoken by the young woman in front of her. He reflected for a moment on why her face seemed so familiar to him. He confirmed with a gesture of the head.

A servant took the pillow where the sapphire shoe was placed, wanting to get closer to Y/n. Madame with an unfortunate little movement of feet, made the servant trip.

The shoe burst in contact with the ground, Aemond looked with his only eye at the old woman, her blood bubbling in her veins.

“I have another one.”

The royal family looked at the plump, surprised young woman, Y/n out of a pocket of her apron the shoe identical to the previous one. And help a servant get her off.

There were no flames or shrinkage, the shoe fit perfectly. His mother-in-law began to threaten Y/n, forgetting the Targaryen and Hightower present.

"You little bitch! How dare you? When we return to the archipelago, you will be entitled!"

Aemond stood between Y/n and the mother-in-law, staring at the woman. Under the orders of Queen Alicent, guards led Madame and her daughters into the dungeons. He was spanking later, the time for discussions was passing, the next days were going to be charged, for the moment, Y/n had to rest from the screams, the dirt and the threats. Oh Aemond wasn’t going to pass that.

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