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peterparkersnose · 9 months

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Spoil

pairing: Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen x reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: lowkey dark!aemond, alys river type themed, reader’s family gets killed, reader is a plaything, sexual themes and descriptions (not a smut), fluff at the end :)

a/n THAT GIF OML uuhhh this came to me in a fever dream apologies.

summary She’s his spoil of war, and his new found confidant.

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read time: 13 mins 26 seconds

A spoil of war.

Is the one thing you had been demeaned down to. From a visiting Lady to Harrenhal, a betrothed to one of the Strong sons, and now to nothing. A spoil of war.

The first time you ever saw him was weeks after the fateful night that your life collapsed. You still remember the cool breeze in your nightgown and the loose hair around your shoulders. How the moon shone so brightly, but only in the early evening before the fight began. Smoke then filled the air as your new home was captured.

And then they were gone.

The Blacks had just packed up everything and… left? The castle you once knew to be lively, despite its cracks, was suddenly sullen and empty. Few staff remained from the ones who fled. You clung to your betrothed along with the rest of his family. Life felt like a ticking time bomb.

It was midday when you heard the roar of the great dragon, Vhagar. A strange time to invade, but there wasn’t much to do. A glimmer of hope, you thought. A glimmer of hope.

Hope is only something a fool would believe in now, you truly believed.

The Strong family was rounded up by the one-eyed Prince. You had heard of him before and knew what the people whispered about him. Kinslayer. Evil. Egotistical. Irrational.

A plea for help, you thought. How foolish you feel now. The Kinslayer swiftly went one by one, killing every single last Strong, down to the grandchildren. All you could do was scream. Your betrothed was gone, and so was his family. The women and the children were all gone. And all that was left was you.

The worst death of all, you supposed. It was certain now, you were the last one on your knees pleading for your life. Perhaps in another lifetime, you deserved this. Watching your new family die one by one, knowing of your fate. As the Kinslayer approached you, his sword bloodied in his hand, blood splattered all over his armor, and his face, his white hair matted with the blood of your betrothed. His facial expression was unreadable as you stared him dead in the eyes. A soft prayer came from your lips as he looked at you like you were the most disgusting thing he had ever seen now, as a scowl moved to his lips.

His hatred for the Strong family was inconceivable. Why did such a man hate a family that much?

He stared you down, taking in every single inch of you. An evil snarl approached his lips as he grunted. “Mmm…”

“She’ll do.” he called out to a man in armor, an older one than the Prince and with Dornish features.

She’ll do? What in the Seven Hells is that supposed to mean?

The Dornish Knight took you by the shoulders and forced you off your feet and whispered into your ear softly as he was escorting you to horseback, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Just be quiet and listen. Pledge your allegiance to King Aegon. Then you’ll be fine.” His words were far from comforting as he intended them to be. Your betrothed blood was still fresh on your hands.

A war camp was your new home. One of the dirtiest places on earth, not for a Lady such as yourself. Men were constantly poking and prodding at you, calling and shouting at you all sorts of terrible names. When you first arrived, you were brought into a quiet tent away from the evil eyes of the soldiers. The Dornish man sat with you and spoke softly. He seemed as if he didn’t want to scare you, but he still did nonetheless. You pledged your allegiance to King Aegon and kept quiet, listening to the first piece of advice he gave you. He introduced himself to you as Ser Criston Cole. You feared for your life, and the only thing seemingly keeping it here was this Ser Criston Cole.

After a while, Ser Criston left you alone. And for a while, you sat confused as so many things were running through your head. Your cries continued as well did the trembles in your hands, the hands you couldn’t pull your eyes from as they were covered with your love's blood.

A maid who was silent the whole time came in with a tub and began to bathe you after you were alone for a while. Why? You had no clue. A bath did seem nice though, you wished to be rid of the horrors that painted your body. You cried as the maid washed you, traumatized by the events of that day. The clear water turned a murky brown as your old life was washed away. A new dress was gifted to you. One of a deep green and a sinch in the middle, tied with golden strings. It was long-sleeved and floor length, keeping you warm in the harsh, cold, rainy environment where the camp was located. And along was an optional green coat of fur, embroidered with beautiful designs. Something you would never normally choose, but there wasn’t really a choice. The dress was soft and felt a bit snug around your body, but you didn’t feel like complaining would be a good idea at the moment.

Your hair was combed by this maid as her quick hands moved through your locks. It reminded you of your old life and your old Lady maid. Who you thought must be dead by now. The soothing words of your old Lady maid calmed you for a bit, as you closed your eyes and pretended you were simply not there.

The maid dressed you and quickly left. You didn’t know the Dornish man was guarding this tent until the maid left, and you saw a glimpse of his armor from the flap of the tent that was exposed when she left.

Ser Criston returned and looked you up and down. It was not in a perverse way though, more of an inspection. Like you were some… some item being prepared. He sighed.

“He’ll be happy.” Ser Criston stated, crossing his arms.

“Who, may I ask?” you finally spoke.

“Prince Aemond.” Ser Criston replied, giving you one last look up and down. “He spared you for a reason, my Lady. You should be eternally grateful for him and his grace when it came to you.”

Prince Aemond? Having grace?

Ser Criston escorted you to another tent. The men whistled and whooped as you walked by, looking like a fresh piece of meat to the soldiers who hadn’t felt the touch of their ladies for weeks. Heat rose to your cheeks as you looked at your boots, praying this nightmare would end. But oh, it had just begun.

Prince Aemond sat in his tent. It was identical to every single one each soldier had on the outside, but on the inside, it was quite different. The delicately carved chairs and a large bed of hay with many pelts over it caught your eye before the Prince did. You didn’t even notice Criston leaving your side until you turned to speak to him, and he was gone.

He was sitting in front of the fire. His armor was gone, and his hair was cleaned. His stockings were hung by the fire as they seemed to be drying as he sat in a chair, not looking in your direction. You stood still, fear wracked your body as you tried to think of something to do. Should you speak? Just stand there? Wait for him to approach you?

“Come,” he said commandingly as he flicked a few of his fingers towards you, beckoning you over to his side. The Prince didn’t even look your way. His voice was much calmer than it was at Harrenhal. You listened, approaching him with hesitance.

He looked up at you, taking in your features with the same blank look as he did at Harrenhal.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked harshly as you stood next to his chair awkwardly. You nodded. “Mmm…” he hummed once again, moving his hand in a way to ask you to sit in the opposite chair. The chair creaked a bit as you sat, giving an unexpected chill down your spine.

“When I speak to you, you respond to me in words. No nods. Understood?” he scolded you, his tone of voice making you twitch.

“Yes.” you squeaked out, almost silently.

“Yes, what…?” Prince Aemond asked you, testing you to see your limits. “Yes, my Prince.”

“Good girl. You learn quickly.” he purred, standing up from his chair to approach you. You froze as he did, not wanting to mess up. This was your only chance at survival. The Prince circled you, almost as a lion did to its prey not once, not twice, but three times. You couldn’t meet his gaze.

“What is your name…?” he asked, now standing in front of you. You answered him swiftly with your name and your house.

“Your father bent the knee to the Princess Rhaenyra, is that correct?”

Your heart skipped a beat. He had? You genuinely had no clue, as you were already living in Harrenhal with your betrothed as the war broke out.

“M-my father, your grace, I have not seen him in many moons.” you quivered, your eyes fixated on the brick of the fireplace.

“But yet you are his kin…” Aemond sighed, picking up a lock of your hair in his hands. “Such a shame. Ironic, isn’t it? He had pledged his allegiance to Rhaenyra, and yet you are mine.” he chuckled. His laugh sent chills down your spine. You stayed silent.

“How old are you?” he asked, dropping your piece of hair and looking down at you menacingly.

“Twenty, your grace.” you replied hastily, afraid of his presence. “And I suspect you were betrothed to a Strong boy, is that it…?”

You nodded.

“Use your words,” he said demeaningly, his long lanky fingers meeting your chin as he pulled your sad eyes up to meet his gaze. “Yes, my Prince.” “Good girl.”

His words went straight between your thighs. “I think I’ll like you,” he says, letting go of your chin. Tears brimmed your eyes. “Do not worry. I will not touch you tonight.” he says somewhat softer, as he grabs your hand. You didn’t even realize they were shaking. “Touch me?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Oh yes. Don’t you understand what this is…?” he asked, making her feel like an idiot. The way he spoke was so demeaning, making her feel like she was the stupidest person alive. How had she not figured out what this was yet? “No.” she whispered. It was all making sense now.

“You are mine. Mine to do with what I please. My spoil, as some say. You will do as I say, won’t you?” he asked, letting go of your shaking hand. You felt like your tongue was numb as he spoke. No emotion was shown on your face as you felt him kneel down in front of you. He placed a hand on your thigh.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked after a while. You met his gaze as he looked up to you, he seemed like an evil spirit had possessed him. His face was different, his lips curled into a cruel smirk. You were speechless again. Aemond was getting obviously annoyed by your lack of response. “You should be,” he said, his grip on your thigh tightening as your breath quickened. “Tell me, my Lady. Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me? Be my plaything, my lover, my company… or would you rather join the Silent Sisters? I cannot kill such a beauty as yourself.”

His other hand moved to caress your cheek. He awaited your answer.

“I-I…” you stuttered. The Prince grew impatient. “Answer me, now!” he yelled at you. You finally cracked.

“Yes, yes, I’ll listen, I'm sorry.” you cried, cringing at the sudden raising of his voice. His cruel smile only widened. “Good girl.”

He was gentle to you at first, but every time after grew harsher and harsher. He often prided himself on seeing you at his mercy, his hand on your stomach as he fucked you slowly. He liked the way you muttered his name as he held you in his arms as you were about to reach your peak. He enjoyed watching you leak his seed out on your thighs as you rested in bed after a long night of pleasure.

Even if he was rough, he never treated you as his whore. He would often put your own pleasure above his, which was quite unexpected. In many senses around the camp, you were seen as his Queen. Even if that was far from the truth.

He never liked it much when you spoke. He had no desire to know about your life, your dislikes, and interests, or anything remotely personal about you. He used you. He took and took and gave nothing in return, besides a mutual pleasure for each other. He took your company, as you would sleep next to him in his bed every night. He never held you or whispered sweet nothings to you as you fell asleep. He took your time, as you waited around for him all day. You had grown quite lazy and bored, with close to nothing to do. He took your worth. Yes, he didn’t treat you as his whore. But he would call you names that made you feel like one. You figured it made him feel better about himself, making you beg for his cock and calling you a slut afterward. Aemond would often tell you mid fucking about how beautiful you would look bearing his bastards. Or how good you looked with him buried inside of you.

Aemond had returned for the night. You had gotten used to the angry footsteps and the sudden whooshing open of the tent door flap when he would return from his days. You hadn’t seen him for five days. You heard of his return to the camp by a few passing soldiers and expected his presence in your chambers tonight. But tonight seemed different. It was eerie how quiet he was. He was usually eager to get his armor off and to fuck you, but tonight was more solemn. He angrily threw his eyepatch on the floor and kicked his armor. It startled you a bit as you watched him seemingly throw a tantrum. Mentally preparing yourself for a night of torture, you began your routine as you had in the past few weeks and began undressing.

“No,” he said, emotionless, not facing to look at you. You stopped. This had never happened. He took off his armor and set it aside, and made his way slowly to the bed in his underclothes. You sat on the bed, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t look at you. Aemond could sense your confusion and your uncertainty.

“Not tonight.” he said, his voice sounding weaker and weaker with each syllable. “Oh.” you said quietly, adjusting your nightgown back on comfortably. You sat in bed next to him.

He reached up a hand and took a lock of your hair in it and twirled it in his fingers. He hummed. You just looked down at what he was doing and watched his fingers, then looked into his gaze. He seemed to have revealed an emotion, for the first time in weeks. Sadness.

You wanted to ask what was wrong but decided to keep your mouth shut. He didn’t like when you talked.

He waited a long time before he spoke. He sat there, not moving, and seemingly staring into space. Groups of soldiers marched by, the only sound breaking the deafening silence between the two of you. You knew better than to speak.

“How has Hilda been treating you?” he asks quietly, still not meeting your gaze.

“Hilda?” you asked, confused. “Your maid.” he said annoyed that you didn’t know what he was talking about. His tongue had a sharp, defensive tone to it.

“Oh,” you replied, confused as to why he was making conversation. He never usually did. “She’s been kind.”

Aemond nodded. He was trying. So hard. He just didn’t know how to approach you with what he really needed tonight. Kindness was something he had not equipped in a while.

“Come,” he said, placing a hand on your back suddenly. You were hesitant. “I won’t hurt you.”

You listened to him and scooted over in the bed, lying next to Aemond as he wrapped his arms around you in a sudden movement. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and fear as he did, he pulled you closer to him. You had so many questions, questions you wished to ask and knew you couldn’t. And you stood still as touched you, confused as to what he wanted from you.

“Do you want me to embrace you?” you asked softly. He nodded, burying his head near your chest and the crook of your neck. You could feel his warm breath on your neck.

What the fuck was this…?

One of your hands wrapped around his head and cradled it as the other moved to his back and gave him some small circles with your fingers. He let out a long sigh.

He looked up at you as he rested in your arms. His eyes were wet and his face was one you had never seen before. Aemond seemed like a complete stranger at that moment. “Do you love me?” he asked her with a tired voice.

She most certainly did not. But that was not the answer he was currently seeking.

“I do,” she said, caressing the side of his face and moving stray strands of hair out of the way. He just held her tighter and placed his head back on your chest, his breathing becoming shallow as he tried to hold in the tears. You were so utterly confused. He knew she truly didn’t love him. But he needed to know if she was obedient enough to lie for him. To hold his secrets, to be an extension of just his thing to toy with. He needed somebody desperately right now, and the only thing he craved was touch. Touch and your attention. He didn’t love you and you didn’t love him. But it hurt nobody to just play the part they were supposed to that night. He was in need.

“I-I went to Rook’s Rest,” Aemond began to speak. His tone was different from his usual commands, he sounded scared. You had never seen this side of him before. She nodded, stroking his hair as he spoke. “My brother, Aegon, and I…”

You had never heard him speak of the King so informally.

“We fought our cousin Rhaenys and her dragon… and we won but-” his voice hitched. He was… he was shaking? “It’s okay.” you said softly, daring to speak as your lover shook in your grasp.

You knew tears were now falling down his cheeks but didn’t dare to say a single thing about it. You knew deep down, he was just a scared little boy. Aemond was only twenty as you were. His big persona of being a ruthless kinslayer was peeling back and he was revealing himself to you. It was something he never did, only in the solemn private moments with his mother years ago.

He had broken at the sight of what he was about to tell her.

“Aegon got hurt. Really bad.”

He was telling you confidential information about the King. He was trusting you. “I-I’m sorry.” you replied sincerely. His hands moved around your ribcage and the other snaked around your back. He felt the fabric of your dress and played with it between his fingers as he tried to calm himself. “H-he can’t walk and he’s burned terribly and he’s barely conscious, and his dragon is injured, and... You-you mustn't tell anyone.” he whimpered, his tone stiffening at the last sentence as his ramblings came to an end. “Never,” you whispered, combing through his hair with your fingers to try and calm him.

“I’m- they made me… they made me Prince Regent.” Aemond confessed as the words left his lips with a sour taste. You could tell he was terrified.

Oh shit.

Aemond in a sense, was King. She finally understood how dire King Aegon’s condition was and understood why Aemond had been acting so strangely that night.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you asked him softly, trying to look to the positive side. If the positive side even existed in this situation.

“No!” he seemingly barked at you suddenly, making you tense a bit. “I’m sorry…” he whispered, running his hand over the side of your ribcage and down to your hips. You had never heard this man once apologize for anything. He looked up to you with his red eyes as he craved your touch. You cupped his cheek, clearing the tears from his right cheek with your thumb. You knew he was afraid. Shocked. Terrified. And he was asking for you.

“I will pray for the King’s recovery, your grace.”

“Aemond…” he said softly. You were confused and he read it on your face. “When-when we’re like this. Don’t bother with the titles. I am just Aemond.”

You nodded.

“I will pray for the King’s recovery, Aemond.” you corrected yourself. “And that your reign may be successful.”

She kissed the top of his head. He held her close.

“Everything will be okay.”

He held you like that for the rest of the night. No violence. No sex. No words. Just you and him, in a moment where he could have his last bit of clarity before he had to put the mask back on and perform for everyone else in his life. He was quite thankful for you that night. Aemond wept quietly as you held the most powerful man in Westeros all throughout that night.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko

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mystcldydrms · 1 month

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you're rhaenyra's daughter. ever since birth, your future has been laid out for you. everything has been planned out. your betrothal to aemond had been finalised as soon as the two of you could walk. he has been a dear friend to you your whole life, although he had attacked your brother when he was younger. you have always been looking forward to your and aemond's wedding. but now everything has changed. the news that your betrothed had killed your brother tore you apart. there was no desire in yourself left to still get married to him. the only thing left inside of you was hate and rage. you confided in your mother, knowing she would be on your side. she immediately called off the betrothal, but unbeknownst to you, she already had another man in mind for you to marry. and it was none other than cregan stark.

this idea came to my mind today, and I'm not sure, but I feel like I'd love to write it. I just don't know if I can do it justice, but let me know what you think of it.

#hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon imagines #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #cregan stark imagine #aemond targaryen blurb #cregan stark blurb #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen headcanon #cregan stark headcanon

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inklore · 2 years

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Laur I see we’re talking Aemond and I need to join bc asdfghjkl that man had two minutes of screen time in the latest episode and he has me in chokehold already

like I’d push down my leo pride for him, let him degrade me, idec anymore

I just know he’s so thorough when it comes to fucking you, like deep and hard and with purpose, like that man fucks with his entire being ya know, I just, I need him I need him bad

asdfghjkl um yeah anyways hi ily and I hope you’re doing well🫣

pairing: king!aemond targaryen x queen!reader

warnings: eighteen+ content, p in v, deep penetration, porn with feelings, biting, scratching, everything is really brief.

etc: told myself i wouldn’t care nor did i care about this man and yet here i am thirsting over him like a fool lmaosks. i’m glad i’m not the only one thoughhh! ily and i’m suffering from this damn show but i hope you’re good bby <3

You’re his Queen and deserved to be treated—and fucked—as such. He likes when both of you are taking enjoyment in the part, it’s not just something he takes from you. It’s a pleasure you both receive, feel, love.

The time he takes to make sure you’re wrapping your arms around him to pull him to your chest, tightening your legs around his hips pushing your pelvis up into his so his cock runs over your wet cunt as you ask him nicely. Beg so sweet because you want him, not because he has to force it out of you.

You really want him.

As much as he does you.

Your body sings and trembles and reaches out for him. Your cunt taking him in perfectly, the stretch around his cock making you both sigh in relief. Feel almost high on him finally sliding home. From the push and pull of his hips as he encases you with his arms, as his mouth bruises yours with his—everything he takes he gives back.

Every hard thrust met with your nails digging into his shoulders; pain for pain.

Every dirty word spilling from his lips met with an agonizing cry for more from your lungs; ache for ache.

Every bite and hard press of his mouth met with your teeth in his bottom lip; mark for mark.

The only power he holds over you is in status, throne, name. A name you now share with him, a name you wear, bare with honor and grace. A name you’re proud to have and he’s happy to give.

Any other power is held in the mix of your shared breaths, moans, fingers intertwined—plans to rule, take, and claim side by side.

You don’t shy away and he doesn’t cower from you knowing all. Seeing all. Seeing him for who he truly is.

With your leg in the crook of his arm, bent just enough to have him going deeper into you, the slow methodical roll of his hips, the deep grunts against your tongue as you mewl and cry and he swallows it down—he fucks you until neither of you can breathe unless it’s from the others mouth. Your insides sore and raw and perfectly tender.

“Does my queen want another?” He asks when he’s made you come for the third time, the smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth nothing if not promising. For he’d give his Queen anything, she need only ask.

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen headcanon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon smut #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fic

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achaoticeternal · 1 year

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— 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗵𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗵

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

|| aemond, much to his mother’s delight, has fallen head over heels for a kind-hearted, devout follower of the Seven

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧ you were a daughter to a well-established Lord and family in Westeros, evening having to great honor to receive many lessons in a monastery

✧ you not only had a brilliant mind like the crone, a beautiful innocence like the maid, and the tenderness and warmth like the mother. but your aura also demanded the same respect as the father, the smith and the warrior

✧ your lord-father and alicent were close friends in court, so when he sent you to King’s Landing to learn from the greatest septas the faith had to offer, it was only natural that you be a guest of the royal family.

✧ when alicent had introduced aemond and you, he took clear interest

✧ aemond noticed the pendant of the maid adorned on your neck, signaling your purity and virginity. he knew then and there you would do anything for your faith and to simply be a good girl

✧ often, he would invite you to attend his own private lessons - except for his high valyrian lessons, since those were sacred to the Targaryens - but you would join him for histories and even answer questions about his own house before he could so much as utter a word.

✧ he took notice to how you prayed before each meal and drink you took, before each lesson, before bed, while attending tourneys... he liked seeing you kneel in prayer and at night would imagine you kneeling before him like a God.

✧ soon, aemond made a habit of praying with you when your paths crossed. at meals, he’d clasp your hands together in prayer under the table. at festivals and tourneys, he’d come to you alone and take your hands in his and speak praise to the mother and the father with you.

✧ he used your prayer time as a way of become closer with you, to insert himself into your life — because while alicent raised her children in the faith, aegon had strayed to his promiscuity and his own father never thought much of it all. it gave him a release from the world to just pray with you.

✧ one day, after your lessons at the sept, he met you outside the doors, only to drag you right back through the great doors.

“my-my prince... what are you doing? we’ll be late to your histories lesson!” you spoke in a hushed tone, acknowledging the quiet in a hall of worship.

“i must confess before the seven... and you,” he explained which caused you to more willingly follow him while his grip still strong on your fore arm.

once at the altar, both of you knelt before the array of candles. both of you lit your own candles to call upon the seven. silence fell between both of you as you made your own prayers to the respected gods.

that was until aemond began to speak aloud, “Father Above, I beg your courage. Mother Above, I beg your kindness. Maiden sweet, I beg your virtue. All of thee to bestow upon me a love, a true and honorable love. The love of the girl who pray with me and i with her.”

your prayer was cut short as his words caught her attention, “aemond...”

“blessed be,” he finished before looking back at you, “my lady, i wish to pray at your side for the rest of my days. would you allow me such a courtesy, and even allow me to ask your Lord-father for your gentle hand?”

he extended a palm to you, asking for your hand if you accepted his proposal. with a smile, you gladly accepted such. with a finally prayer, he escorted you from the sept back to the Red Keep, doting on you while walking arm in arm.

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elaratyrell · 3 months

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Jealousy {Modern! HOTD x Fem! Reader}

Includes Aemond, Aegon & Jacaerys

*All images found on Pinterest* *Divider from firefly graphics*

Warnings: Darkish themes, possessive behaviour, fears of cheating, teasing, edging, public sex, hair pulling, Aegon gets handsy

*Not proof read*

Aemond

Aemond trusts you and the love that you have for him. If you manage to break down his walls, earn his trust and his love, then of course he's not going to doubt you and your intentions.

However, he still has his insecurities. You constantly assure him that he is the most handsome man you have ever met, but he still often views himself as a monster. He finds himself thinking that if you met someone who did not have his hang-ups, his scarring... if you met someone better, that love you have for him could be put into question. He didn't want to have these thoughts, but he couldn't stop it either.

Despite Aemond's rather stoic demeanour, he also has an incredibly volatile temper, one that can erupt to the surface at any moment. So when he sees some perfectly handsome guy with a great smile, a relaxed demeanour and two perfectly functioning eyes flirting with you, it's only a matter of time before he... snaps

He observes from a distance at first, watching how you react to the man's advances, straining to hear what he's saying to you, how he steps closer to you. If he lays a hand on you, Aemond will be at your side in an instant

As he watches the man's poor attempt at flirting with you, his frustration will grow, and he'll eventually walk over you both, standing behind you with his hands clasped behind his back, staring down the man with a burning gaze. If that doesn't deter him, he'll make several cutting comments about him, ignoring any disapproving frown you send his way. He'll intentionally refer to you as his girlfriend rather than your name, his chest pressed right against your back.

If your unwanted admirer still doesn't back down, well, prepare to be dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. Usually Aemond would prefer a little more privacy, he's not as shameless as Aegon and thinks of himself as having a little more self control, but when it comes to you? That all goes out the window.

He'll have you facing the wall, your palms pressed against the cool tiles as he hikes up your skirt and roughly pulls your underwear down to your knees, circling achingly slow circles on your clit. He wants you to beg for him, wants the idiot who flirted with you to hear you, to know who you truly belong to.

He'll draw you to tears with the number of times he'll draw you teeteringly close to the edge before pulling away, leaving you soaked with desire for him and pleading with him to give you that release you're yearning for.

When he's satisfied with your begging, he'll fist one hand into your hair, the other clamped down on your waist, holding you in place as he sheaths himself into you. He won't be gentle, thrusting into you at a relentless place, not bothering to cover your mouth to muffle the string of moans and gasp that'll slip through your lips as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, your scalp almost burning at grip he has on your hair.

His hold on your waist will be bruising, occasionally sliding upwards to roll a hardened nipple between his fingers through the fabric of your dress or downwards to toy with your clit again. When you eventually do cum, he'll hold you securely against him, revelling in the way you tremble against him, your body covered with a thin sheen of sweat, makeup slightly smudged and chest heaving with deep breaths.

He'll smirk, simply pulling your panties up and your skirt back down, lips tracing feather light kiss along your shoulder and up your throat before coming to rest against your ear. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks.

"Don't think this is far from over, love. I'm just getting started..."

Aegon

Aegon's jealousy stems from his insecurity of feeling unloved and unwanted his whole life. He was the fuck up of the family after all.

He doesn't think you can do better than him, he knows you can do better than him, that it was entirely plausible for someone to come along and sweep you off your feet.

He won't show these insecurities. Not in front of the other guy, that is. That's something to discuss with you later... maybe...

The length to which Aegon will go to deter this person will vary depending on how much he's been drinking. If he's feeling jealous, it's likely to be a decent amount.

If he's in the early stages of the relationship with you, he might try and little tit for tat, flirting with the first girl he sees and constantly looking over to see if you've noticed. It'll escalate into a fight, likely, one that he shrugs off to mask his fear of losing you.

If you're a little further into the relationship, he'll walk- or stagger- over to you, tossing an arm over your shoulders and pressing a rather over exaggerated kiss to your neck and cheek.

He'll get a little handsy, his hand grabbing your waist, your hip, your ass. He'll even grope at your tit if he's feeling shameless enough.

It'll likely escalate into a full on make out session in front of whoever's flirting with you, hands groping your ass as he pressed you against the bar counter.

His inappropriate behaviour and intoxicated state resulting in you grabbing his hand and dragging him outside to take him home. He's in no state to talk that night, but will be tugging at your clothes and pressing a line of sloppy kisses down your neck as you unlock the door to your apartment.

If he's drunk enough, he'll slur out his feelings, his jealousy, his insecurities. He wants to be loved, but he's never truly experienced it before.

Just stroke his hair and take care of him. He will still try to get handsy with you, creeping along your thigh and under your skirt.

Tomorrow, sit down and talk with him. Assure him that he's who you want, who you love, and that he's worthy of that. And hey, if it ends with you straddling his waist, your hips rolling against his and hands threaded through his platinum tresses as you show him how much you love him, what's he to complain about?

Jacaerys

Now Jace here is the one you need to watch out for the most. He trusts you completely, but that's not where the issue lies. Because while he's not as insecure as Aegon or as cruel as Aemond, but he has got a temper. And he's protective as fuck.

It borders on possessive, how he watches you like a hawk. In his mind, he watching out for you like your knight in shining armour. He doesn't trust the people here. What if he turns away and someone tries to take advantage of you?

He, like Aemond, may watch from a safe distance at first, but Jace lacks the patience to stand there idly, and he'll be beside you soon enough.

He'll glare at whoever's flirting with you, his jaw clenched and hands balled into fists.

He'll tell the guy to back off, to realise you're in a relationship. He won't be as cutting as Aemond with his words, he'll say it politely enough (at first), but there'll be a slight strain to his voice as he speaks through gritted teeth.

The best thing to do is take his hand in yours, or rest a hand on his arm. Your touch immediately relaxes him somewhat, reassuring him that you're there for him. It might also encourage him to try a little more to keep a lid on things.

He's the most likely to get physical against the other guy. You saw how he was with Baela and Aegon. He will swing a punch if the guy refuses to respect you, your boundaries or your relationship, and he won't hesitate or think twice about it.

Despite being the most likely to lose his temper, he's also the easiest to resolve things with since he's so secure with you. He doesn't need reassurance that you won't leave him, just that you're there for him in that moment.

You'll pull him away to somewhere more quiet and private so he can cool off. Even if he doesn't punch anyone, he's going to be riled up and needs to calm down.

As you hold him, your fingers running through his curls, he'll slowly relax. His breathing becomes less ragged, his trembling will cease, your touch calming him down.

He'll probably be the only one out of these three to willing talk about how he's feeling without being prompted into it by you. He promises that he'll try to keep a better control of his temper, and he will try, but it will happen again.

For now, the argument's settled, and he can enjoy spending the rest of his night with you, whether that's heading back to his place to enjoy it in privacy or head back into the party, his hand firmly planted on your waist as you hang out with Cregan or Rhaena and Baela, a small smirk on his face at his triumph over the stranger.

More often than not, you'll end the night pinned beneath him on the bed, your head thrown back in pleasure as he shows you exactly why you're with him, the flirtatious stranger from earlier all but a forgotten memory in your mind.

Tag List:

@watercolorskyy @jacesvelaryons

If you wanted to be added to the general HOTD taglist or taglists for specific character/s, just let me know

Masterlist

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spectorcomplex · 1 year

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aemond who always makes sure you’re on his right side even way before you were lovers betrothed so he can always look at you like at feasts he always asks his mother to seat you on his right at the table or even in front of him as a compromise if alicent is getting annoyed at the impropriety of how attached the two of you are at the hip but she eventually gets used to putting you and aemond together whenever a feast is to be planned and she even passes the knowledge to helaena or maybe even if you started out as rivals but aemond has this urge to always keep an eye out for you ‘for safety’ he says to convince himself but even a fool knows it stems from his desire to see the vision that you are and once you and aemond have been joined as one under the eyes of the seven and can finally sleep in one bed together he always always makes sure you are in his sight even in a sleepy lovesick haze

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen headcanon #aemond targaryen oneshot #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen angst #hotd #house of the dragon

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anangelwhodidntfall · 1 year

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Sweet Dreams: Aemond Targaryen

House Of Dragon Masterlist

word count: 900

description: Aemond offers a solution to your sleep problem.

Aemond had taken notice of how tired you looked that morning at breakfast, and this wasn't the first time he had noticed it either since your arrival at Kings Landing almost a week ago. At first, he thought you were having trouble adjusting to sleeping in a new place but now he was beginning to think that something else was the reason.

After breakfast you made your way to the library, wanting to be alone with your thoughts while you read. You sat at the table reading "The Old Tales Of Valaryia" when your eyes started to feel heavy as the sleep you had been missing out on, was finally catching up to you.

Aemond was finally done with his duties that for once he didn't want to deal with today, instead more worried about you, he went to find you in hopes that he could talk about your lack of sleep and what was causing it. After talking with some maids, he found out that you were last seen in the library, and he made his way there. He walked in and immediately stopped in his tracks because there you were fast asleep with your head in your book, he had to admit you looked so peaceful right now but then part of him was worried about what could've happened to you in this state.

"Sweetness, sweetness." He said gently shaking you and watching as you started waking up.

"Hey, sleepyhead, when I recommended "Old Tales Of Valaryia" I didn't realize it would put you to sleep." He said teasing you as marked your page in the book before closing.

"I swear it's not the book, I'm actually enjoying it. I just haven't been sleeping that well since I got here." You said to him watching as a small smile appeared on his face.

"I'm glad to hear that. Speaking of your sleep habits, I could help but notice how tired you've looked that past week, do you think we could talk about that?" He asked as your eyes went wide not realizing that someone had noticed.

A couple of months ago, while your parents were away dealing with some business it was just you and your brother at your home when some of your father's enemies broke into the castle more specifically into your room, where they had tied you up and were planning on doing more to you until your brother arrived in the room scaring them off. It had traumatized you deeply as every time you closed your eyes you imagined the worst things possible.

Aemond noticed the shaking of your hand and the tear sliding down your face and wrapped his hand around yours making you look at him. It was then he realized that you had gone through something traumatic just as he did when he lost his eye.

"Sweetness, you don't have to tell me if you are not ready, but just know that my door is always open for when you can't sleep." He said.

"I couldn't possibly..." You started to say but he stopped you.

"I'm offering, I don't know what you went through but I do know going through something traumatic, I still experience some restless nights from losing my eye. So if you ever have trouble sleeping or want to talk, my door is always open." He said squeezing your hand and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you Aemond, that means alot." You said to him giving him a soft smile.

It took you a couple of nights to actually work up the courage to actually find comfort in Aemond when you couldn't sleep but after the nightmare, you woken up from, you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. You quietly made your way through the tunnels, towards his room as he had shown you a few nights ago and when you got there, you found him awake reading a book before lifting his eye to meet yours.

"I'm glad you came sweetness, let me just..." He said reaching for his eye patch not wanting to scare you.

"Please don't. I would like to see all of you, as you are seeing all of me right now." You said with your hands placed on his making his heart swell that you weren't scared of him right now.

"As you wish sweetness. Do you need anything?" He asked.

"Do you think you could hold me?" You asked nervously but being in his arm sounded really nice right now.

"Of course, would you like to hear about the book I'm reading right now?" He asked you as you got settled into his arms.

"I would love to." You said with a smile listening intently as he talked about it.

Aemond had been focused on his book and talking about it, that he didn't realize you had fallen asleep until he looked down at you and saw you fast asleep making him smile.

"Dōna dreams, issa jorrāelagon." He said pressing a kiss to your forehead.

#aemond targaryen support squad #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen headcanon #aemond the kinslayer

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idontgiveashitabouttourneys · 1 year

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Any headcanons for Aemond with a clingy s/o?

Aemond’s wife bursts into tears if she knows he’ll be away from her for longer than half a day. Often times Aemond just sneaks quietly in the mornings without waking her up, his heart breaking as he presses a soft goodbye kiss to her forehead. When he finally returns home, she instantly jumps into his arms, legs gripping at his waist as she holds his face and plants sweet kisses all over his cheeks, his good eye and his scar, Aemond cupping the back of her head and pressing her into an open mouth kiss, his grip on her tighter as she starts melting into his touch.

Aemond used to not know how to handle his wife’s ways of sticking herself to him whenever they were in public. Once, during a diplomatic feast held in honor of House Baratheon — a peace offer of sorts after he annulled his promise to wed one of Lord Borros’ daughters, his wife would not stop touching him. She was either caressing the back of his head, clinging to his bicep with her head resting on his shoulder, or running her hand innocently up his thigh, her chair scooted up as close as humanly possible to Aemond’s, the Baratheon lords and ladies feeling mocked thinking her affections were a gratuitous display meant to rub it in their faces that a Targaryen-Baratheon union was never actually in the books. That evening, once the noise around the table had heightened considerably, and prompted by multiple sour looks from his dear mother and Otto, as well as by Aegon’s impossibility to hold in his laughter at the sight of the two of you, Aemond turned to his wife grasping her delicate hands into his. Her happiness at the gesture was immeasurable, being none the wiser as Aemond let out a small sigh and asked her to tone it down with the touching or they could risk breaking a war right there in the ballroom. She took such offense at his words, that she could not even beginning to fathom what to say in response, as she just nodded, disheartened, tears stinging at the corner of her eyes. Aemond felt awful at his wife’s quiet and restrained demeanor during the rest of the night, his attempts to caress her naked shoulder in order to comfort her met with a recoil on her part. He knew he fucked up as he noticed the Baratheon lords drunk off their faces, not one paying them any mind anymore, one of Borros’ nephews, emboldened by several cups of wine, even going as far as to ask his wife’s hand for a dance. As he watched his Lady twirl and jump with a bear of a man’s hands on her waist, he felt his bile rising and vision blur around the edges, angered at his idiocy and shamed by his lack of appreciation for her love. When his wife returned to her seat, Aemond pushed his chair until it knocked into hers and kissed her where she stood, a hand griping her hair and pulling her head back so he could lay his hand on her collarbone. With the exception of a few stares and some hooting from Aegon’s direction, the rest of the feast continued peacefully, his wife returning to him to nest into his arms.

Following that evening, Aemond vowed to cherish his sweet wife’s affection whenever and however she wished to show it. In the privacy of their chambers he reveled even more into her gracious ways, for he never saw her as clingy as others might have put it, but rather as his savior that showed him how good it felt to be loved as such, seen as such, longed for, at all times.

Although Aemond never attempted another public making out spectacle again, he made sure to let his wife know, that if he could, he would never spend a second away from her, his worshipping of her happening with his mouth between her thighs, his prayers dutifully answered as she shouted for the Seven.

Note: Ok I don’t know if what I wrote works as headcanon, but I was nursing a cup of wine lol and once I started writing I got really into it. Hope you enjoyed!

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen request #hotd #hotd ff #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen headcanon #aemond headcanon

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writinggraveyard · 5 months

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❥⌈ Diagnoses of the Heart Masterlist ⌋

⌦Summary: Student loan debts, mother in an induced coma, no other family to rely on but herself. When options are running thin, sex work is the last and desperate choice she must make to ensure to keep medical payments afloat, until he becomes a sudden constant. Aemond Targaryen might just be her last hope to not lose the last person she holds dear. ⌘Rating : 18+ Minors DNI ⌦Story Type: Series ⌘Fandom : House Of The Dragon ⌦Pairing : Doctor!Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character ⌘Warnings : mentions and depictions of sex work, mental health exhaustion, {poorly portrayed} medical diagnosis, money trouble, p in v, mentions of drug use, family drama , soft dom!aemond

❥each chapter will hold their own warnings and have a more in depth list of what the chapter warning's intel.

⌈ ❥ ⌋ Index ⌈ ❥ ⌋

⇲Chapter one . . . ⇲Chapter Two . . .

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charlottesbookclub · 29 days

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which plants each of the greens would get from the plant shop where i work 🪴🌱🌿🍃

y'all i am so sorry for my sporadic activity on this blog and also for the chaotic jumble of fandoms i keep posting about with no warning 😭

so i was kinda into hotd last season, and with the new trailers coming out i was thinking about it again and this idea came to me like a revelation from on high so i decided to curse you all with these headcanons as well

for context, i work at a houseplant shop and was watering my own plants today when i was seized by the vision of which plant(s) each of the greens would get from the shop

i guess this is kind of modern au but not really?? like i guess i sort of envisioned it as the characters walking out of the world/canon of the show and into the plant store and so that's the characterization i went with idk

anyway sorry this is so chaotic – here are the headcanons:

alicent – def something pretty basic but classic like a pothos or a philodendron. a marble queen pothos would be especially appropriate, so honestly that's what i would probably recommend if she asked. is able to keep it alive just fine but i'm just not sure i would recommend anything too much more demanding – i just feel like losing a plant would be too demoralizing for her. also i feel like she would be one of those people who would come in and be like "i need a plant that filters air bc i need clean air in my living space" and i'd have to put on my best customer service voice/smile and be like "well actually ma'am that's all of them – that's kind of like one of their main things" lmaoooo

criston – i truly do not believe that my mans could keep a plant alive; i'm just not convinced of it. i think he'd get a funky spiky little succulent or cactus and it would be dead within a week and he'd come back in and i'd recommend a snake plant (very hard to kill) and then he'd kill that too 💀 but also i think he'd be sooooooooo in denial about it and always come up with a bunch of other things that must've happened to it

aegon – also cannot keep a plant alive but is painfully self-aware about this fact. would def be one of those people who comes in, walks right up to the counter and instantly says "i need a plant i can't kill." so i'd point him to the snakes and zz's and he'd get either a nice black coral or golden hahnii snake plant. the funniest thing about this is that i'm convinced that aegon's snake plant would actually survive and criston would be sooooo pissed about it. like he wouldn't water it for weeks, and then when he finally remembered to, he accidentally (drunkenly) watered it with wine and it still lived and criston was fucking livid about it

aemond – would for sure have more success keeping plants alive than aegon or criston. i feel like he'd try to start with something cool but tricky, like a complicated carnivorous plant, and after excruciating months of going back and forth with it, it kinda just gives up because he tries to do everything precisely by the book rather than reading the signs of the actual living plant in front of him. he admits defeat only personally – he tells everyone else that he gave to plant to helaena. he comes back for something a little easier and goes for a nice dracaena marginata (yes, he did buy it mostly because the name sounds like "dragon" and also because it was spiky and cool). he's definitely able to keep that one alive and it lives in the corner of his chambers and he's secretly very proud of his success with it. also he does not even let criston or aegon so much as look at it lmao

helaena – my girl could buy anything in the whole store and keep it alive 😌😌 she for sure likes the "weirder" plants and has a whole bog garden situation of carnivorous plants aemond is insanely jealous of this but never admits it out loud. she's very drawn to strange-looking cacti and succulents, and also fun little novelty plants like goldfish plants, string of turtles/bananas/hearts/pearls, starfish snake plants, etc. also, whenever she comes in she always buys all of the scraggly discount plants because she feels bad for them and nurses them all back to health. she has not lost a single plant yet regardless of the state it was in when she got it, and she doesn't intend to start any time soon 😌

#please excuse the absolute chaos of whatever these are 😅#charlotte rambles #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon headcanon #hotd headcanon #alicent hightower #alicent hightower headcanon #criston cole #criston cole headcanon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen headcanon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen headcanon #helaena targaryen #helaena targaryen headcanon

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mystcldydrms · 6 months

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just imagine ...

you're laying in bed, your baby next to you in its crib, a dragon egg right beside it. a bright smile graces your lips even though you are exhausted. your baby is only a few weeks old, and the nights are short. it wants to be fed, and you understand that it needs to grow, however, you are tired most of the time. lucky for you, you have your husband, aemond, who just happens to walk into your chambers. he is everything you ever hoped for, a phenomenal husband, as well as an incredible father. as soon as the two of you knew that you were pregnant he made sure that your child had a dragon egg. you know that he would do anything for you and your baby. he lays down right next to you, his arms wrapping around you as he takes a quick glance at your child, who is sound asleep. "hello, my love.", he whispers in your ear before he presses his lips softly against your temple. you make yourself comfortable in his arms, your eyes closing almost automatically from exhaustion. aemond can't help but chuckle softly as he notices the way your body relaxes against his. "sleep tight, beautiful. I'll wake you up if our baby needs you." oh, yes, you are one lucky woman.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen blurb #aemond targaryen headcanon #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen fic #hotd imagines #house of the dragons fanfiction #hotd x reader

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tenseoyong · 1 year

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I am putting my ass in the line here to go on and say that aemond gives the best hugs.

without a doubt

aemond isn’t the most physically affectionate person, that much is known. getting a gentle hand on the arm is the most extreme he’ll tend to go for.

an aemond hug is a rarity—and it is treasured.

the blood of the dragon flows through aemond—and he burns hotter than any fire man could make. his embrace could fight off frost bite if he’d be kind enough to offer it.

he’d hold you as if he was single handedly protecting you from the entire world—pressing you tightly to his front. one arm wrapped around your lower back to hold you to him firmly while the other tenderly holds the back of your head, fingers fanned out to gently stroke your hair as he tucks you under his chin.

and when he finally releases you, he places the softest, barely felt kiss to your forehead.

i need an aemond hug or ill combust

[ masterlist ] [ requests ]

ask to be tagged~

#hotd #hotd headcanon #hotd imagine #aemond targayen #Aemond Targaryen headcanon #aemond Targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #headcanon #shorts #x reader

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peterparkersnose · 9 months

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man just imagine the look on his face and the shock on the day Aegon realized that Aemond was finally taller than him.

#peterparkersnose #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen headcanon #aegon targaryen headcanon #house of the dragon headcanon #game of thrones #ewan mitchell #tom glynn carney #targaryen #i just know that aegon is bothered that his little brother is taller than him #man has to be like 5’6 and aemond has to be like 6’

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bonesofapoet · 1 year

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the shadow’s crown

[aemond targaryen x you] (non targaryen reader)

author’s note: this man is single-handedly ruining my plans of finishing all my wips this month for nano :) language

word count: 643

In a long forgotten tower, two lone figures contemplated a tear in the fabric of their lives.

They lounged on a narrow staircase, dirty and crumbling with age. Dust motes drifted through the air from abandonment. Honey gold streams of sunlight illuminated the floaters through two cloudy window panes above them. It was a challenge to make out what the design in the stained glass used to be, through the grime. Cracks spiderwebbed from a single focal point where something smashed through it long ago; yet this accident is what provided them with the most light.

Silence, heavy with reality painted the air they breathed. It was a discomfort. It was a wakeup call. It was the only moment they could slip away like this, for a while.

A sigh escaped your lips, shaky with the weight of a life forever changed in an instant - though not for the better. You began to wonder if anyone's life changed for the better, anymore. Maybe someone, somewhere, was draped across another set of stairs in another far off place with their lover, like you did now. Only it wasn't the fate of the realm they were contemplating, but something lovely. Something kind. Something worth celebrating.

"Aegon is going to be king."

It felt like a sin, to speak the words aloud.

"Yes."

A pause.

"Your idiot brother -" you cut yourself off, upon feeling Aemond tense - hardly noticeable, had he not been stretched on the stone before you, chest pulled back against your own. His fingers began to toy with your hands clasped around his waist. "He wouldn’t find his own cock if it wasn't attached to his body."

The tension in the stairwell lessened at your jest. It became less frigid, less ominous, when the prince himself gifted you mercy wrapped in a silver bow. Effortless laughter sung through the darkness and brightened the sunlight illuminating the gloom’s restless cage. Though short lived, and quiet as it was - it was a moment you would come to cherish. This moment was now imprinted upon decaying stone, the song of the prince's laughter to live on in this disrepair forever.

"Be that as it may," a trace of lightness remains in his words. You feel idle patterns drawn on your leg, tension slowly easing with Aemond's hushed words. "He will sit the Iron Throne with mother's guidance, and we will all bear witness to the fool emboldened with power from a kingdom he doesn't want."

Bitterness poisons the air once again. Aemond relaxed farther into you, safe from listening little birds here. No one knew about this place. No one knew this is where you came, when life grew heavy with the burdens of living.

Another pause.

Carefully crafted, should have been the words that fell through your lips - except times are desperate now, and you and Aemond had never hid behind the games of court. Not with one another.

"It should be you. The realm would thrive under your rule. You're the one guiding your family through the dark with the Queen."

Aemond hums. The drawing on your leg ceases, replaced by a palm sliding up your thigh to give a gentle squeeze.

"Desire for a crown has plagued your mind, has it?"

It's unexpected, the laugh abruptly rolling off your tongue. It's a sweet sound, your laughter. Familiar. Warm. Aemond allows himself an easy smile in the dark.

"Absolutely not. You know I have no lust for the weight the Queen carries. Besides -" your hand rests upon Aemond's, his thumb absently stroking your thigh. "I enjoy our life together with little more than what is expected of us."

Lips brush his cheek. Aemond leans into your touch, head tipping back with the intent to kiss you properly, before duty beckons him back from this moment held out of time.

It's gentle, when his lips meet yours. Hands intertwined wherever they lay, reassurance gliding silently from skin to skin. A moment belonging to you and Prince Aemond alone; a balm over old wounds that may reopen anew.

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen headcanon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen drabble #ewan mitchell #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #kas writes

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spectorcomplex · 1 year

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love and war ↝ aemond targaryen x reader

you treat marriage as if it is war. who’s to say it’s not?

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!velaryon!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: cursing, targcest, reader is rhaenyra and laenor’s daughter but there are no physical descriptions. my first hotd fic pls be kind

word count: 5k words

my masterlist

You should be mourning. Truth be told, you were— an aching sadness that left you hollow as the adults paced around the room, grief heavy in the air with the loss of your Grandfather, the King. But the fear swirling in your gut overpowered sadness.

You were not oblivious to the opinions of the court, even if you yourself were not involved in it as much. Your mother’s rule has been challenged enough even when the King was alive and now the long awaited storm brewing from before might finally arrive to blow your family over.

Your mother is a strong woman, a true protector of the realm, but as you glance over at where she is stood by a window next to Alicent Hightower as they engage in a hushed conversation, you know that everyone, even her, is nervous for how the kingdoms may react to a woman ascending the Iron Throne.

She sent you and your brothers to your chambers after the funeral, heavy lidded and shoulders drooped, unfit for a royal, but she was not the Queen in that moment, but rather a grieving daughter. You hugged her good night and kissed her cheek as you often did as a child in her arms.

Sleep did not come to you yet and a history book written in High Valyrian kept you company. Until a knock echoed.

“Princess? I’m sorry to wake you but the Prince Daemon requests your presence,” The voice came from the guard stationed outside your door.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It was too late in the night and what would your step-father want from you at this hour?

Thankfully you had not changed into your night dress yet, still clad in your funeral attire, a high-neck black dress that had faint embroideries of dragons on the hem of the floor length skirt. Your heart grew heavy as you remembered the tales from your childhood when Viserys had time to indulge your requests in knowing more about Balerion.

The guard escorted you to the council chamber and you finally had a sense that this was an emergency meeting regarding the Crown.

“Sister,” Jace greeted you by the door. You glanced behind him to see your mother seated at the head of the table with a glum expression.

The sight of Queen Alicent in the room was no surprise to you, she was constantly in the presence of your family after she and your mother had rekindled their friendship. What did catch you off guard was the presence of her son, your uncle, Aemond. He was the only one of Viserys’ other children present in the room.

You wondered if Aemond too was feeling grief for his father but there he was seated, proper posture and a stoic face, the candlelight casting a sharp shadow over his features. The complete opposite of your plump cheeked younger brother Lucerys, who was slouched and yawning in his seat.

Jacaerys helped you into your seat and looked equally unnerved as you, though you were not sure if the reasons are the same.

Daemon entered after a few minutes of silence. You noted that only family was present in this room.

“Daemon, what is this about?” Your mother asked with a sigh.

“The coronation is tomorrow,” Daemon began to explain but your older brother interrupted with a scowl on his face.

“Exactly, which is why the Queen needs to be well rested for the ceremony,” Jace had been standing up to your step-father a lot more recently and you admired his ferocity.

Daemon glared back, “There’s already whispers. Unsatisfied, doubtful, craven Lords who may not fully cooperate in this reign.”

You could only frown. This exact scenario was what plagued your thoughts ever since you learned of the King’s passing. No one expects the passing of succession to go smoothly, but to be interrupted so soon?

There was a purpose as to why Daemon called this meeting; why only family was present. You racked your brain as to think of a way to help but none came to mind. You were a second child whose influence came in the form of what your dresses looked like instead of what you have to say.

“We need allies.”

All eyes turned to look at Aemond. His voice made it clear that he was speaking a matter of fact.

Your step-father looked hesitant to address the younger prince but this was no time for revisiting petty prejudices of the past.

“Precisely,” Daemon nodded. “And if I recall correctly, you’re already in the talks of a marriage pact to Storm’s End. We would have sent dear Y/N but there are no sons there to vie for her hand.”

The first part of his sentence went over your head as your nose flared in offense. “Is this why I was summoned here? To be shipped off to spend the rest of my life being miserable with some stupid Lord?”

“Watch your mouth,” Your mother finally spoke, though her words were not what you hoped for. You looked at her in despair and you were met with pity.

“I get to have a say how my life goes,” You stand up, furious. “I am a princess of this realm!”

“This realm you speak of will descend into chaos if you refuse to help your mother.”

His words were carefully curated, constructed together to hit the tender spot in your heart reserved for your mother. You were already defeated in the matter of your liberty despite your stubbornness to pursue an argument.

“I can help in other ways,” You said.

“How? By the way of the sword?” Daemon’s nature was to always pick a fight and even his children were of no exception.

“No need for violence all the time,” You match his scoff. “Diplomacy is an option and—“

“And diplomacy is to secure good relations with others, like marriage,” His tone was nearing a growl and you did not want the already exhaustive night to take a turn for the worse.

“Alright,” You clenched your jaw. “For my mother—for my Queen.”

You looked at her, a glint of what you hoped was admiration shining in her eyes. She mouthed a thank you.

Curious eyes followed you as you approached a guard stationed by the door. He nodded at your request and quickly returned to you with the item at hand.

You unfurled the map of Westeros on the table.

“Only if I get to choose which Lord I will be betrothed to,” You said. “It must be a very strategic alliance that will greatly benefit the Crown if it will cost me whatever joy I have left in this life.”

As everyone peered at the inky outlines of the seven Kingdoms, a rogue stare strayed from the map and settled on you.

“You look ready for battle, my Princess.”

Your uncle’s whispered quip startled you so much that a breathy laughter escaped your lips. His sour relationship with your brothers had strained your own relationship with him. As children you would even play games of chasing each other when your respective lessons were done for the day. A few hearty laughs were shared if you saw Aegon stumble down a set of stairs, both too young and naive to know about the sensation of drunkenness.

But now, years after the incident that forever changed the dynamics within the family, he seemed like a stranger. The boy you knew was gone and in his place stood a man with the mind of a scholar and the skills of a knight. You swallowed as your gaze met his.

“Is marriage not war, my Prince?”

His lips raised imperceptibly but you caught it. Though, you wish you hadn’t as your heart defied logic and started to race.

“Well?” Daemon’s voice sliced through the tension and even if he was irritating you, you were relieved for the interruption.

Your nimble finger pointed south. “There is a Martell son. Though they would see right through us if I was offered up to him. But if they did choose to look past that, we may even have the chance of strengthening the bond with Sunspear.”

“Wait-wait,” Alicent spoke, her motherly gaze meeting yours. “No need to treat this as if it were the Stepstones, sweet girl. We can arrange a tour and maybe a love match may—“

“With all due respect, Your Grace, but a tour requires weeks of planning for travel on all parties,” You gave her a grateful smile. “We do not have the privilege of time on our side regarding this matter.”

You were not the closest to Queen Alicent after all these years of animosity, but you could tell she was trying and these were her true colors that your mother cared for when they were young.

“And a love match is—“ You frowned. Even if marriage had always been a distant thought in your mind, you had always hoped that you would marry the one you love. But having that in this world is much rarer than dragons who breathe blue fire.

“A love match is not possible,” You breathed out. You cast a glance at Daemon, who was nodding in approval. You were on the path of making right decisions until your eyes landed on Aemond across from you and the mistake was letting his already-there stare have feelings rise within you.

You only shook your head before pointing back at the map.

“This one also seems feasible,” You say as you circled the shape of an archipelago with your finger.

“The Iron Islands, sister?” Lucerys, who had been awfully quiet for quite some time, finally spoke.

“I’m a Velaryon,” You spoke with pride, though a distant sadness ached at the memory of your late father. “And you, dear brother, are heir to Driftmark. Our family can have control over the great fleets in both seas surrounding Westeros.”

Mumbles of approval filled the air and you thought that, this is it, you’ll officially be surrendering to the water in which you came from.

“A Greyjoy?”

Prince Aemond is awfully opinionated tonight, it seems, and your fatigue was morphing into irritation.

“Is there a problem with them, my son?” Alicent asked.

Aemond scoffed, “The only eligible one for the Princess Y/N to marry is skilled at sea but useless on land.”

“What seems to be the problem with that?” You asked, always having had admiration for the skills it requires to be great in ships. Traces of the fond memories of your father and grandfather’s lessons.

But even if you were the one that spoke, Aemond refused to look at you. His gaze even seemed directed at your parents.

“The Greyjoy son is even more bunglesome than the lowliest tourney knight,” Aemond explained, voice cool and turned your temper to flare. “How will he protect his wife? With a knotted rope perhaps.”

And the most unexpected happened, both your brothers laughed at the remark. It was a sight from your childhood years that you never thought you’d get to see again. You elbow Jacaery’s side.

“As much as I would hate to agree with him,” Jace whispers in your ear. “He does not lie, sister. I’ve sparred with the Greyjoy boy before.”

“Well,” Your mother spoke, voice commanding the attention of the room. “We keep our options open.”

You sigh quietly, eyes starting to droop and eager to get this meeting over with. But you were determined to secure a stable turnover from King Viserys to Queen Rhaenyra.

“Alright,” You cleared your throat, feeling warmth slowly flood your cheeks as your finger pointed upwards of the map. “The North.”

“Not just the North, I think,” Lucerys piped in, a familiar mirth in his eyes. “You want to be Lady of Winterfell.”

“I do not!” You really wish you had composed yourself instead of succumbing to your sibling’s teasing because now all attention is on you. Except one, as you see in your periphery.

“Cregan Stark,” Daemon hummed in contemplation. “Not an awful choice.”

That’s basically a seal of approval coming from him.

“There’s no sense to a marriage pact with them. Northerners are honorable people, they won’t break faith to Rhaenyra even in doubtful times,” Alicent offered.

The conversation was slipping from your control and you need to grasp it back for this was your freedom as a woman at stake.

“Still wouldn’t hurt to have the largest region in Westeros, your Grace,” You said. “Plus, he is Jacaerys’ friend and I’ve met Cregan on quite a few occasions. He is… a gentleman.”

“You think he’s handsome.”

Oh, you were definitely going to smother your brothers in their sleeps tonight.

“He is smart,” You backtracked, the same rogue stare from earlier now back on you and burrowing deeper under your skin. “Already groomed to rule over his lands.”

“Alright, we start with the Starks,” Your mother said, the back of her hand rubbing over an eye. “His father will be at the coronation and if we’re lucky, Cregan will also be. But for tonight, we will all get rest.”

That would probably be your favorite order from the Queen.

“I am to fly to Storm’s End the day after tomorrow,” Aemond’s deep voice was like the thunder in the place he was to visit. “Your Grace.”

To anybody else, they would not be able to catch the subtle look of surprise on your mother’s face, but you could tell because you were probably mirroring her right now. Your uncle Aemond’s disdain for your side of the family had never been in question. To address your mother like that even if he’s made it so perfectly clear that the inheritance should pass onto Viserys’ sons was worthy of suspicion.

“Alright…” You saw your mother hesitate, “Brother. Good night, my family.”

That last interaction was what made you so sleepy at the celebration after your mother’s coronation for it kept you up the night before. You were restless after the cordiality your family presented each other and every now and then you think you’re a fool for hoping it would last for a long time.

But you were lying to yourself. You knew damn well the presence of Prince Aemond was what had you twisting and turning in your sheets. Your annoyance towards his incessant need to tap his fingers on the table, smug smirks, and opinions on your future marriage was a way to cope with the wave of nostalgia you felt every time you cast a glance at him.

Aemond had always known how the royal family is above others, even back when he still had both eyes and a childish grin. His words tonight reminded you of the time when you were seven and Aemond nearly growled at the Baker’s son who gave you a plucked flower from outside the castle.

You however found sleep after a few tears dropped at the loss of those innocent days, letting go of the prospect of Valyrian Dragonglass and finding marriage in another House.

—+—

Some Lords were confused at the serious faces of House Targaryen. Most of them were rowdily whooping and clapping after the coronation. But being a royal of this realm meant you had to be smart in assessing a massive gathering of all the nobility in Westeros.

Daemon had reminded the family in the morning to be wary of the doubtful Lords he had mentioned the night before.

You all had a better look at the attendees at the celebratory feast Alicent insisted on having in order to ‘lighten spirits.’ To no one’s surprise, the Martell son was nowhere in sight.

You sighed from your place at the table that was raised on the dais, overlooking all the nobility starting the night with wine filled cups. You grimaced as you heard your Uncle Aegon’s slurred words start already.

The poor dress that was custom made for you is currently suffering from scratch marks from your anxious fingers. The Greyjoy table was full of men who looked older than your own parents and the aforementioned weakling in swordsmanship is nowhere to be seen.

“Good eve, Princess Y/N. You look beautiful tonight.”

You startle as you see the Greyjoy you were looking for by the other end of the table.

“Just tonight, Sir Rickon?” You jest like old friends even though you knew nothing but his name and status.

He didn’t seem to think you meant no harm as he started stuttering, “No-I- you look beautiful all the- I’m terribly sorry.”

“I only jest, my Lord,” You say through gritted teeth and muster a convincing smile. Though your snickering elder brother at your left was seeing right through it.

“Yes, alright,” Rickon clears his throat. “May I dance with you, Princess?”

You sigh, the sound thankfully lost in the noise of the hall, and nod. You grabbed his outstretched hand, calloused and littered with small cuts.

“Have you sailed recently, my Lord?” You asked as the two of you got into position.

Rickon’s face seemed to lighten at this and you put all your Velaryon knowledge to the forefront of your mind.

“It has been two moons since then, Princess, we traveled to King’s Landing by road,” He explained.

That was pretty much the meat of your conversation with Rickon Grayjoy. He was an average dancer and a worse conversationalist. Not good for diplomatic relations.

Dornish wine had never been as appealing to you as it is now. As soon as the music ended, you rushed back to the family table and grabbed a goblet for yourself with enough quickness to even surprise your drunkard Uncle Aegon.

Unbeknownst to you, another uncle was watching warily.

“Slow down, niece,” Aemond’s voice broke through the noise of the hall.

You only roll your eyes and stumble back to the dance floor. Though you do get a sense of deja vu at Aemond’s words.

These were the times in which a listener would find this memory hard to believe to be true. Too fictional to believe— as if it is meant to be a story immortalized on a tapestry. A speck of a memory that is so different from how the Targaryen family is with each other now. But you remember; girlish giggles and scuffs of shoes echoed throughout the stone walls of the Keep.

You were summoned to the Dragonpit to start learning how to command your young dragon. Love for books had nothing against your excitement when Ser Harwin called for your attention. Your Uncle Aemond was in the library with you, equally enamored with his book about dragons of Valyria and you asked him to accompany you as to see the real thing compared to illustrations on paper.

“Slow down, Princess!”

You only snickered at Aemond’s warning. He only had a few years ahead of you and thought his prepubescent voice could scare you into submission.

Despite being born and raised in the Keep, you have not yet developed muscle memory for every crevice in the castle and your foot slipped on a crack in the pavement.

You plummeted to the ground, though your hands reached out to stop your face from colliding with the floor. Tears immediately flooded your eyes as your palms skidded on the gravel, following a sting and warm wetness which was most likely blood, and an ache surged in your twisted ankle. Stubbornness ran thick in Velaryon blood and you refused to cry in front of any of the boys but the pain was too much to hold it back.

‘What did I tell you?’ You expected Aemond to say with a disappointed tut. But he only knelt next to you, brows furrowed as he helped you sit upright and inspecting your bloodied hands.

He had one arm tucked under yours as he patiently helped you walk back to the main grounds of the Red Keep in which he then barked at Ser Criston to fetch a maester to tend to you.

Aemond sat next to you and rested a gentle hand, still free of callouses from handling swords, on your forearm as the maester applied ointment to your scratched palms.

He never told you how much it stung when you didn’t do the same for him on that fateful day in Driftmark.

“Princess.”

The firm voice broke you out of your wine-induced memories.

“Lord Cregan Stark,” You curtsied.

The smile you greeted him with was genuine compared to Lord Greyjoy. Though the conversation from last night put a falter in your grin.

You wanted to see Cregan as a friend, build a relationship on a foundation free of ulterior motives. But the plans made are needed to be put into motion to truly secure Queen Rhaenyra’s reign.

“May I have the pleasure of dancing with you?” He asked and you wordlessly nodded as you felt the warmth flood your cheeks. Though your recollection of that day in your childhood added to the dizziness from the wine.

Cregan was an excellent conversationalist, complimenting your dress and hair and still managed to verge into topics deeper than surface level small talk as you twirled to the music. He would make a good husband, you think. Though your heart dropped for a split second that this would not be a true love match if a wedding was to happen. He would be a good ally.

“Have you caught up with Jacaerys yet?” You inquire, looking him in the eye to keep his attention.

He started to answer enthusiastically and despite how much you complimented him the night before in front of your closest family, you could not fully appreciate Lord Stark and despite trying not to, you found yourself comparing him to the one eyed prince.

“…Like a brother to me,” Cregan finished with a smile.

Your eyes flickered to his mouth before returning to his sparkling brown eyes. He would make a good husband, you repeat in your head. Dark features and lips chapped from the harsh winds of winter.

“That is good to hear,” You nod, switching to diplomatic mode immediately. You had to seal this partnership tonight. “That our families have a bond with each other.”

A look of knowing flickered in Cregan’s eyes, almost as if he knew what you were insinuating or about to propose.

Cregan leaned in, too bold a move for a public dance between a Lord and a Lady, “Yes. A bond.”

Your breath hitched at his actions.

Someone cleared their throat and you nearly jumped in place.

“Lord Stark, would you mind dancing with the Lady Floris Baratheon?”

You huff when you turned in Cregan’s hold and saw Aemond standing there next to the two of you, lips in a fine line. Said Lady Floris was next to him, almost looking defeated. You had to hold the urge of cursing Aemond out. What he said was not an offer but a demand.

Cregan did not look phased but still obeyed the Prince after bowing, “I’d be honored to.”

When the dark haired pair drifted into the rest of the dancing crowd, you scowled at Aemond.

He was not bothered by this and placed a firm hand on your waist. You gulp.

“What are you doing?” You hiss. A defense mechanism to emotions beyond irritation towards the Prince swaying with you.

“Flirting is beneath you, niece,” He says in that low voice of his.

“You know my intentions with Lord Stark and why,” You answer, the grip you have on Aemond’s leather clad shoulders turning tighter in aggression. “And you should be with the Lady Floris to finally get Storm’s End’s approval.”

Aemond only hummed as he spins you out and pulls you back in, “I’d rather pluck my other eye out than to have Borros Baratheon as my father-in-law.”

As if on cue, the raucous laughter of the Lord of Storm’s End echoed in the hall. You both grimace.

“Then who do you wish?” You chuckle, though not lightheartedly. “Daemon?”

You scoff after saying your step father’s name. It was evident how much Aemond idolizes him despite his denial. All from the hair down to the ego.

Your knees weakened when Aemond didn’t look phased by your jab, he even rather looked amused and that was a dangerous thing.

“What are you saying?” He smirks and your blood runs cold when realization crept in.

“I only meant Baela or-“ You stutter.

“Who are both already betrothed to your brothers.”

Damn it! That smug smirk only seemed to grow wider and you swear you growled under your breath. You redirected the conversation.

“You have a choice, I do not,” You start. “I do not understand why you would say yes to a marriage pact when you could just forge an alliance over a goblet of wine.”

That seemed to put Aemond back into his stoic self. Despite the silence, you know he was forming an answer in his head.

“I have to protect my mother.”

Your cold facade melted a little bit. You understood where he was coming from with this.

“I do too,” You answer, making sure your voice was not as confrontational as it was a few seconds ago.

“You do not understand to what extent,” And with this, Aemond completely lets go of you even though the music was still playing.

He leaves you on the dance floor and you hate how it left you with a tinge of sadness.

But like children, you follow after him to pester more about his thoughts. This was how it was back then, you knew Aemond had the tendency to conceal his words but with a little push, he’d spill. Hopefully it will still work.

You follow him to the dark corners of the hall, ignoring the inquisitive stares of the others.

“Then make me understand,” You say. “Aemond.”

He only stops at the soft whisper of his name. Though he keeps his back to you, this does not deter you from moving closer. You knew he felt you, a tenseness in his body that an untrained eye wouldn’t notice. But this was Aemond, you just knew.

“It is not their loyalty to the Crown that is in question. It is their worries that there will be a civil war.”

He let you sit on the words. Aemond never underestimated your intelligence; he may have thrown shallow insults ever since the rift between your side of the family and his but he never doubted your intellect.

You sighed as it hits you. The atmosphere has now changed, yet you both are still players in the big picture. Even as royals, you are pawns in this game and the name one carries assures your survival. The loyalty to Targaryens is undeniable so now, who knows what they will do to a Hightower?

“Viserys is no longer alive, she is not Queen anymore,” He continues.

The son who took up ensuring the family honor. The eldest was never to be relied on and Aemond had made sure to be the child that would protect his mother. Rhaenyra was lucky to get sons and a daughter that will put her honor in mind before they act but the former Queen was not afforded that luxury.

Alicent was never the warmest towards your family, but she was faithful to duty and did her best to ensure the family survives especially in the final days leading to her husband’s death. Even through conspiracies and whispers, she focused on keeping her children well without subconsciously excluding you and your brothers.

This is what Daemon was pushing you for. Duty. To do right by your house and protect it to the death. You understand now.

Aemond is not the type to believe in baseless rumors. He approaches the thoughts of those fellow politics with a clear head and if this is what he deems as important then you’ll defy your side’s expectations and stand with him.

“We are Hightower and Velaryon,” You say. “But most importantly we are both made of fire and blood.”

He turns to you then. Once again, torches illuminating intimidating features. Lilac eye glowers at you but you stand ground. Like you said, the same magic swirls in both your veins.

“I understand,” You continue in his silence. “I understand what we need to do whatever it takes for the blood of Old Valyria to endure.”

Alliances with other regions would be great, but if Aemond’s word was to be trusted you know that it is not enough. Banners will be raised behind two women who have no intention of fighting because of men’s beliefs. You will not let this tempest sink your family under.

In order to protect the most important people in your life, enemies must be slain. A marriage bound by love is a rare gift— but a marriage for duty is a weapon.

Aemond shakes his head at you and despite the pull, you resist from having your shoulders drop in defeat. Your mother may have been called the realm’s delight as a little girl but she now sits the Iron Throne and it is inevitable for her to be called a cunt by those who refuses her reign.

“I know what must be done,” You take a step forward toward Aemond. This is it, he could either make or break a pact that will ensure House Targaryen’s stability and hold on the realm. The tension between these stone walls could rattle a dragon. But never the two of you. “Do you?”

“You know damn well,” Aemond whispers. You’d be a fool to deny how he’d look at your lips just then.

You raise your chin, “Pār gūrogon issa naejot zaldrīzesdōron se mazverdagon issa aōha ābrazȳrys.”

Then take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife.

aaaa hope you enjoyed! reblogs and comments are appreciated :) i’m not the biggest expert on asoiaf lore but im really spiraling into learning about it lol but pls feel free to drop a message anytime!

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calummss · 2 years

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Love Resembles Misty Dream | Aemond Targaryen

masterlist

summary: as daughter of the hand of the king, not everything comes to you. aemond and you are madly in love, the only problem? there is a slim chance of getting married. it seems the old and new gods have not decided your fate just yet

pairing: fem! reader x aemond targaryen

words: 2.3k

a/n: wrote this bc i only found smut and we need fluffy aemond fics. this aemond is written canonically, but he would only act like this for that one specific person, no one else. i also changed the timeline slightly so that otto was disposed of after alicent gave birth to aemond. okay enjoy

‘Dragonpit after sunrise. I’ll see you then my love.’

Your heart fluttered in excitement as you read the letter, written with the black ink you came to know so well. You have received similar scrolls over the years, yet every time the words swirled around your mind, you could feel your heart beating faster. It was a reminder that even after all these years he still made you nervous; excited; over the moon. You knew it was love by the way you felt, and knowing him, he loved you so much he would start a war over you.

The light of the moon did not seem to want to leave the dark sky anytime soon. Only the flicker of a candle lit up your chamber, illuminating orange between the misty air.

You stroked the parchment with your thumb, the other hand hidden under your head as you waited for the sun to rise.

Your father was a guest at the court, turned Hand of the King when Otto Hightower had his position taken from him. Days at court were boring, considering that there were barely any girls at court your age with the exception of Princess Helaena Targaryen. But her brother Aemond was who took your interest. You had observed him the first few weeks and noticed he was bold, wild, willful, hot-tempered and unforgiving. He grew up to be a proficient and dangerous swordsman. He had a weird calmness to him which made him scary to most, but somehow you had befriended him. You knew how odd that was when people started to stare at you, following the news of the “Prince’s First Friend”. Ridiculous title if you were asked. One particular night he had accompanied you through the gardens and when no one was looking caught you by surprise, sneaking a kiss on your lips as you had stared at the ground seconds before. Aemond loved the risk of being with you, but also grew tired of it at the same time.

When the moon did decide to disappear you wasted no time. Your handmaiden helped you braid and tie your long silky hair, helping you into your pink dress that was your favourite. You were grateful that the castle was not yet awake with the exception being the household personnel tending to breakfast, cleaning and whatever else had to be done by the time the King would awake.

The halls were empty, your shoes gently echoing against the harsh stonewalls trying not to cause a racket that would lead its way back to you. Finding your way out of the Keep and covering yourself with a cape, you started heading towards the Dragonpit. Walking past the drunks and unconscious men that belonged to the smallfolk, made the sweat in your nape roll faster. The winds felt exceptionally cold that morning, as did the narrow streets seem to have shrunken the last time you traveled the way. Small but fast paced steps had you standing in front of the Dragonpit quicker than last time.

The Dragonkeepers were the one thing you hated amongst the sneaking around. Any sound, any movement, any sense to be alarmed, and they would swing their swords, find you and send you back to the Red Keep, telling your father of your shortcut adventure of the early morning hour. Luckily they had never been aware of you until now.

Flattening yourself against the rough stones of the building, you slid against the wall, carefully getting past the four guards that were deep in conversation. Clenching your teeth, you detached yourself from the wall and headed towards the basement that led you to the individual caves the dragons were held in. Small torches lit the wet structure, shining in the light. The wind breeze blew your face softly, your hair moving away from your face as you got closer to the entrance.

‘Aemond.’ You whispered as quiet as you could, not to wake the dragons or to alert the Dragonkeepers of a break-in.

The heels of your shoes left an echoing click in the air, but Aemond was nowhere to be seen.

‘Aemond.’

Suddenly someone grabbed you by your side and pulled you in against one of the cave walls.

‘Aemond.’ You smiled, greeted by blond hair and a blue eye, one hidden behind the black eyepatch.

Aemond pulled you into his embrace, so tightly it felt like he was craving your touch more than was humanly possible. He rested his forehead against yours, smiling ear to ear before lowering his head. Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees got weaker. It wasn’t the first kiss but Aemond’s presence made you nervous like a little girl. Your whole body tingled, the movement of his chest coming closer, as his arms wrapping even tighter around you felt forbidden. Your chest filled with air as his lips brushed against yours; softly, delicately, like you were a porcelain figure, a crack away from falling to pieces and being broken forever. You could only focus on how soft he felt against your mouth, how addictively he invaded all your senses. He kissed you long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin, and the smell of your perfume that would linger far after you had gone. His lips were soft and his tongue as wet as water. Aemond gently grabbed your chin, slowly pulling back from the kiss, deep down not wanting to break apart from you.

‘I missed you hm,’ His deep voice mumbled against your lips, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheek, holding your face close to his. ‘So much.’

You placed your hand over his, also rubbing against his skin. ‘I missed you too.’ You kissed him one more time. ’But we can’t stay here.’

‘Hm.’ Aemond slightly smirked before grabbing your hand and pulling you further down the caves.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Going to take Vhagar for a ride.’

‘Really?’ Sound of surprise coated your question.

‘I was reluctant to let you ride on her, my love,’ Aemond’s arm pulled your shoulder closer to his side. ‘But I know you love dragons and desperately want to ride one so why not be the best-only-boyfriend you have and let you ride with me.’

Your stomach churned in excitement and nervousness as you were finally confronted with one of the biggest dreams you had ever had. Vhagar was the biggest dragon amongst all living and a giant compared to you. Aemond made the mounting of the animal look so easy and graceful so that when it came to your turn to climb onto her back you lost your balance a few times before taking Aemond’s hand which pulled you up and swung you onto the seat in front of him so that he could ensure your safety at all cost.

‘Hold on tight.’

‘Where are we going?’ You turned your head back but Aemond already uttered the words ‘Sōvēs’, and Vhagar started to move, making loads of noise. Her walk was like an earthquake, the flapping of her wings like thunder.

You held on tightly, your hands hurting from the amount of pressure. Aemond’s front was pressed to your back, his hands holding on to the rope in front of your stomach making you feel a little less anxious, yet it was still your first time on a dragon and you could swear you could feel your heartbeat outside of your chest.

There was a remote island just off the coast off Dragonstone. No one ever went there so it had become a sacred hideout. The island was big in size; sand, mountains, stones, all making up the solid ground.

You were laying in the sun, the warmth of the rays making you take off the cape. At the same time you felt a different warmth against the skin on your neck, slow wet kisses going down to your collarbones where his fingers played with the hem of your dress. Using your index finger, you pushed his chin up so he was looking at you and locked your lips with his. Again and again he invaded every corner of your mind and all your senses, his slow passionate kisses turning hungrier.

‘We can’t,’ you pushed Aemond’s hand from your chest, disappointment coating your words. ‘It is too big of a risk to take. I would rather just stay here and be able to kiss you as much as I want to then to be banned from court and seeing you with someone else.’

‘I do love you, Y/n.’ Aemod said, his fingers tangled in your hair as you rested your head on his chest, feeling it rise and fall as you enjoyed each other’s company under the old blooming tree.

‘I know that Aemond.’ You absentmindedly traced circles on his abdomen.

‘I will make sure that I am to be your husband. And if you are to be with child, I will make sure that that child is from my seed and my seed only.’

‘Aemond—‘

‘I know you don’t wish to have a lot of kids,’ he repositioned his head so that he could stare at your face, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, ‘however if you are to be my wife we will have to have one child to make sure our succession is secured.’ Aemond smiled genuinely. ‘I do not ask for more than just one. That is all you have to do, my love. After that, all my love and devotion will be to my wife,’ He inched closer. ‘Our child and our marriage.’ He locked his lips with yours as he mumbled the last words.

‘One might think this is a prayer.’ You grinned up at him, your heart full of warmth.

‘Hm, maybe it is.’

‘You are aware that there is a slim chance we are to be wed, Aemond, right?’ You shifted uncomfortably, pushing yourself up against the tree.

‘Yet my father is a king and you can find me to be very persuasive.’ He smirked.

‘I know.’

‘Now,’ Aemond adjusted himself to lie down comfortably, closing his eyes as he relaxed beneath the sun. ‘Let us just rest here. We can’t be gone for too long.’

When you returned from your morning trip, you saw that Aemond was immediately approached by one of the King’s Guard to whom he followed inside.

Must be important.

You ignored the scene you had witnessed and headed towards your quarters, having no further duties for the day.

‘M’lady’, a guard strutted towards you as soon as you walked through the hallway that led to your quarters at the end of the hall.

‘Ser Criston Cole, what a surprise to see you here, tucked away from kingly duties? What is it you need from me?’

He returned a blank stare. ‘Your father the Hand awaits you in his study about an urgent matter that requires you to be present right this second.’

‘In the name of the Old and New Gods why the fuck would you wait for me to climb up all these stairs to send me back down again, Cole.’ Your voice echoed through the halls, your feet already picking up pace to run down the very steps you had just ascended.

The stairs felt like they never ended. Every time you were done with a staircase a new one appeared in front of your eyes, slowly making you run out of breath as you raced towards your father’s study.

‘My darling daughter,’ your father greeted you as soon and you entered the room, huffing desperately for air.

‘Ser Criston just told me you needed to see me.’ You coughed mid-sentence. ‘Urgently.’

‘Well, yes. You see the news came…rather unexpected without being able to have some sort of say in it. However I do not feel to cause a scene since the recent agreement made is nothing but a good arrangement.’

‘You lost me.’

‘You are to marry the Prince Aemond this summer.’

You stayed completely silent.

You pinched yourself good to make sure that if this was a dream you would wake up, but everything stayed the same. You were still in that room with your father, him now growing more concerned about your quiet state.

Without thinking further you rushed out of the room, hearing your name being called after but you only had one thing on your mind; find Aemond.

Back on your feet you started picking up speed again. This time there was joy in the run. You had to find him. Every second felt like your heart was about to explode. When you rounded the corner in front of the throne room you could see Aemond stopping in his tracks as soon as he saw you. He had also run.

His small smile from across the room shined brighter than any light that had casted above the halls. You crashed into him, arms flung around his neck as his arms snuck around your waist and pulled you into his embrace, his face hidden in your neck as he spun you around in circles.

‘So I can finally call you ‘my love’ out loud hm?’

‘Please,’ you whispered, closing the gap between you once more, no longer having to hide from everyone.

‘Kiss me.’

‘I could never deny that order, my love.’

Your bodies pressed together against each other heatedly, tighter than ever before, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together. You could taste your shared breath, feel the thud of your combined heartbeat as you breathed him in like he was your air.

‘It seems as though we are getting that child of ours afterall, hm?’

‘Only one.’ You giggled against his lips.

‘One is all we need.’

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