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allkordelia · 2 years

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Do You Love Me

You were on the bed in daemon's chamber waiting for him when you felt a flutter in your belly, your hand moved over rubbing it feeling a bit out of it that this was happening.

You laid flat on the bed looking up at the ceiling, when daemon wanted you to come with him to king's landing from driftmark you thought it be an fun adventure being in a new place, staying at the red keep, getting treated like royalty, and having daemon's undivided attention.

It was one of those dreams you always wish will happen when you were a child, but in yours you never imagine the rogue prince take a liking to you of all people. You sigh thinking about how you got to this state of living with the targaryen prince, it wasn't a good memory to go back on but it did seal your fate with your lover in the end that made it worth it.

You were on the couch in dragonstone when your mind went to the past couple of months of you being with daemon, you hummed to yourself at the fun you had between the sheets and out of them you never wanted it to end. But, that feeling was shortly lived after weeks of staying in the red keep. He started confining you to his chambers while he was away doing his "duties", and when he finally got bored of his duties he took you away to dragonstone where he stayed with you for a month or two before leaving you there to your own devices.

He didn't even tell you that he was leaving until you found out when you saw him riding on caraxes from the balcony of his chambers, and when he finally came back he brought another woman with him with tan skin and dark hair. You remember waiting for him to come back to his chambers so you could demand to go back home for leaving you here all alone, it was nearing midnight when he walked through the door the first thing you grabbed was a book you brought from his huge library.

Before you got the chance to throw it he had you on the bed naked and fucked out of your mind to point that you forgot what he did to make you angry, after that night he didn't come back not until the next day and then he didn't come back the following day but he did the day after that so it took the seventeenth night since he got back for you to realized that he was jumping between you and the other woman. It was, mysaria, the name you come to found out as the other woman night today when you were waiting in front of the fireplace for your tea.

You twist and untwist the white curly streak that you got from your father around your finger as you stared into the fire, the knock on the door made you shoot up from your seat and hurry to crack open the door.

"Did anyone see you?" The older maester shook his head.

"Good." You opened the door wider seeing the white teacup on a small plate in his hand.

"You should give it a couple of minutes or more to cool down before drinking, m'lady." You nodded taking it from his hand looking down at the light amber liquid.

"Mind you, m'lady. Beware that this tea has very dangerous effects." You looked at the older gentleman frowning a bit.

"I'll take that in consideration, thank you have good night maester." The old man bowed walking away before you closed the door you looked up snd down the hall to make sure their weren't anyone spying on you.

You walked back over to the couch you blew on the steaming cup, the smell of honey and mint engulf your senses before setting it down on the table, you moved your hair from your face and behind your ear before grabbing the book next to you to past the time as you wait for the tea to cool down. As you were reading you heard the door to your chamber's open making you stand up and turn to see daemon, you moved to the side blocking the tea from his vision.

"Daemon." You said flatly.

"Issa jorrāelagon." He smiled moving his eyes all over you.

"Shouldn't you be with your other mistress night." He came to stand in front of you as his hands moved gently up and down your arms.

"I took her back to king's landing."

"Really? Does this mean you taking me back to diftmark." You asked trying not to sound too hopeful, daemon wasn't looking at you as he caress your collarbone.

"You want to leave me?"

"Of course not, but rather than leaving me here all alone you can take me back home...and come get me again once your finish with your duties." He laughed in your face as you said the most peculiar thing.

"So, you can start opening your legs for the sailors and knights...?" He said finally looking at her.

"I don't think so." He pecked you lips before trailing his kisses down your neck.

"I'm just saying–" he cut you off muttering into your neck.

"That's your problem. Your talking when you should be getting on your knees and pleasuring your prince." He hands were grabbing your backside as he leaves love bites on your neck, he tries to back you to the couch but you stumbled knocking against the table making the tea and small plate make a clanking sound.

"A bit late for tea, isn't it." He asked after catching you before you fell, you looked to see he was looking down at it with curiosity.

"Just something to help me sleep...you know how I am when I'm in a new place," you said you could tell he wanted to inspect the light amber liquid making you slide you hands from his arms to his abdomen to his get to his belt making you unbuckling them to draw his attention back to you.

" You should undress you smell." He turned his head back to you before letting out a pleased hum when your hand rubbed his cock through his pants.

"I thought you like my scent." He says taking off his leather jerkin tossing it to the side, only in his white tunic showing off his chest before he leaned his head against her own.

"Oh, I do...just not when it's mixed with another woman perfume." You backed up away from him before flopping on the couch.

"Is that a hint of jealousy, my love?" He asked staring down at you making you snort.

"please..." you muttered leaning your head back on the rolled arm of the couch, "...I have nothing to feel for such things as envy over who you fuck."

"So, you wouldn't care if i bring another woman back here?" You turned your head looking at him.

"No, it's your castle...you are the prince and future heir. I am your whore you do not belong to me so you can do as you wish. My only purpose here is to please and make you happy." You shrugged slightly as you watch him walk closer to you before kneeling down by your side.

"So, if I tell you stay here with me forever, will you?" He asked his fingertips grazed your expose legs and thighs.

"Yes." You answered feeling a bit of ill in the pit of your stomach, in the amount of time of being with daemon. His slowly started to becomeproprietorial over you to the point that you felt suffocated and it makes you mad that you couldn't really do much about it.

You couldn't tell him no because of his temper you know that daemon wouldn't put a hand on you, but there are other ways to hurt a woman without using violence.

"I'm pleased to hear that especially since..." he said softly trailing his kisses from side of your thigh up to your waist, "...I want to see your belly swell with my sons and daughters." He chuckled before peaking the top of your stomach causing you to tense up and sit up making him sit on his knees. You looked at him stunned at his words, he tilt his head to the side with a small grin making you scoff.

"Don't jest about something like that." You exhaled heavily.

"What? You do not wish to have childern, I mean I get it children can be such irritating creatures." His hands running up and down your calf and thigh while looking at you, you glanced at him before looking away into the fireplace.

"I do want childern...I just don't want them–right now." You said looking down at your hand playing with your ring.

"You mean you don't want them from me." You snapped you head him as he wore a serene look.

"I didn't say that–"

"No, but you were thinking it and it's okay." He said rubbing your knee making you bite the inside of your bottom lip as you felt relieved.

"The gods will decide when it's time for us to have childern, and until then we will have to keep trying." He gave you a placid smile before kissing your knee, making you let out a nervous giggle feeling that same dread creep up in your stomach again.

"...yea." you leaned forward grabbing the tea before you were stopped by daemon's hand wrapping around your wrist, a bit of fear shoot through as you looked at daemon as he took the cup of your hand.

He smelled it before he gave you a soft scowl getting up, "Daemon–" you started.

"Are you pregnant?" You looked at him for a minute.

"I don't know...I been throwing up all day." He look down at you with a narrow eyes before glancing down at him.

"Your lying again." You shook your head opening your mouth, " ...you know why I know your lying, because the maester told me you been visiting him for the past six days straight since I been back." You looked up at him with a wary look as you swallow thickly.

"Daemon–"

"Do you want to drink it?" He asked calmly.

"I-I don't–I–"

"It's a simple question, do you want it?" He said again looking down at you, you hesitated looking st him before glancing at the cup.

"Yeah, I want it." You whispered bracing yourself for his wrath.

"Ok." He held the cup in front of you waiting for you to grab it, you look at him curiously as you looked between him and the cup.

"Take it." He urge straighten his arm a bit towards you, you exhale feeling s bit shaky as you pulled your hand up to grab it only for it to be thrown at the fireplace. The cup hits the stone causing it to shattered and the liquid to stain the carpet, you looked at daemon as if he lost his mind as he gave you a curious look back.

"What the in seven hells, daemon? Are you mad." You stood up looking at him.

"I could be asking you the same thing, did you really thing I was going to let you kill our unborn son." He took a step forward only for you take a step back.

"Daemon, please. We can not have this child." You pleaded backing up as he walk towards you.

"We can and we will..." You stopped s good distance away from him as we stood behind the couch.

"I'm not having this baby."

"...you make it sound like you have a say, I am your prince you do as I say–"

"No!" You snapped.

"I will not raised your bastard, daemon. I will not give him the life that was burden upon me by my own lord father." You hissed, you told him this long ago about your father, you never mentioned a name but he knew and you told him of your life in the brothel with your mother and he told me about his own childhood.

"I'll marry you–"

"Please. How long will that..hmmm? Your just going to get bored and leave to found something better and when you do so will I." He looked stern at you taking a step closer but you stood your ground.

"Your not taking my son and if i have to I will lock you away in the highest tower I can found and have you remain there until our child is born."

"And then what? You gonna parade him around the royal court, they will not accept him as their own when they found out that his mother's a bastard whore."

"You can't be a whore if you only had one customer...which was me." He nonchalantly.

"Not the point I still worked in a pleasure house–" you dismissed his comment.

"As a cupbearer." He rolled his eyes closing the distance between you both as his hands went to your arm.

"I understand your concern but I want to have this child with you, I want to be with you." You shook your head in pain.

"For how long? I can't be stuck in this castle all alone with no help and have my child questioned if his father loves him or not."

"I will never leave your side or our child, I would rather burn than to be absent father," his hand grasped your face before leaning his head against your own, "I'll never abandon you or our baby I promise." You covered his hand with yours before nodding.

The door opened making you turn your head to see daemon, he was gone all night with his golden cloaks killing and maiming criminals. He eyes wondered around the room quickly before landing on you he smiled coming over to you, you moved away from to the other side of the bed as he tried to kiss you.

"Uh-uh stop right there." You put up a finger stopping him in his tracks as he went to climb on the bed.

"Your not getting in our bed smelling like a dead rat." He rolled his eyes backing up and moving his side of the bed and kneeling by side you.

"Can I atleast get a little peck?" He asked.

"No." You deadpan, "maybe if you change and take a bath, I considered it." You smiled mockingly.

"I can't have to attend the small council, my brother wishes to see me." He rolled his eyes leaning his head on the bed.

"Yeah, after the screams of your victims echo through the wee hours of the night, I'm not surpised." He hummed before getting up.

"Let's get this over with." He sighed.

"You have fun." He looked down at you with a look.

"No, your coming with I want you there when I announced our marriage to my brother." You gave a strain look a bit nervous, it been five months and daemon kept his word as he stayed by your side through the pregnancy. You be lying if you said that you weren't nervous anything can happen, and you mean anything as sweet as viserys is he is a bit dense and likes to listen to his hand rather than his own.

Nobody knew that you were with child when we arrived daemon made sure you went straight to his chambers unnotice, he wanted to tell his brother face to face rather than have gossip spread through the castle and spoil his plan. You had a cloak on hiding your body as you walked with daemon holding your hand, you walked in the room to found just three members of the council already here.

"Prince Daemon." They all stood up and bowed to him, no one looked your way as they took their seats. You wanted to stand near the window that overlooked king's landing, but before you could move Daemon pulled you to sit next to him making your nerves multiple with each step. Your free hand moved to your stomach when the doors opened reavling the king and his hand, you were such a nervous wreck that you couldn't even get up and so respect so you just looked down at your lap instead waiting for this to be over.

You were surpised that otto didn't say anything to your presents neither did the king, so the meeting begin and they discussed what happened last night. It seemed like time moved slow as they talked, you glanced at daemon who wore a bored looked as he listened to lord strong talk no wonder he hated coming to these meetings they were so fucking dull. You kept yourself from yawning for the fifth time already, how can anyone stand to listen to otto talk when all he been doing is countering everyones response while the king sat there like a statue.

"Now, that we got that resolved. Daemon. What did you wish to announce." Viserys asked looking over at his brother.

"That I have found a wife and she's expecting." He smiled widely looking at you before looking back at his brother, viserys along with the rest of the men looked stunned.

"O-oh, daemon. That's good news." He looked over at Otto a bit lost for words, before looking back at daemon.

"We will be getting married in the beginning of spring." You looked over at Otto who leaned forward with his hands in front of him.

"And may I asked, m'lady. What house are you from?" You swallow as everyone eyes were on you.

"She's doesn't belong to a house–"

"So, she's a commoner. What do your father do?" He asked.

"I never knew my father, my lord." You answered, "...what about your mother?" The king asked making you looked at him hesitated to answer.

"She was–She worked in a brothel back at diftmark, my king."

"Not only a commer, but a bastard one at that." Otto sighs glancing at the king who wore a small frown, daemon looked at Otto with a void look before turning his attention back to his brother.

"I wish to marry her and I want you there to witness it," the king looked conflicted before he can open his mouth otto spoke up.

"We have already arranged a marriage in The Vale with House Royce to lady rhea royce of runestone." Daemon scoffed.

"The Vale? In the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of women. I can assure you, the sheep are prettier." He said snarky glaring at Otto, you bite your lip holding in snicker.

"She is a good and honorable woman from a great house, while your..." Otto looked at you with disfavor causing daemon put his hand over his sword handle, "...paramour comes from no house has no titles, and fundamentally is a bastard and daughter of a whore. She and her unborn child will bring nothing but shame upon this house." You link your hand with daemon's hand from under the table feeling the rage radiating off him.

"Your words hold nothing to me, she is the woman I wish to marry." Otto rolled his eyes.

"Your grace–" Otto looked to king viserys but daemon cut him off.

"I could have stayed in dragonstone..." he said catching viserys attention, "I could have gotten married without your knowing I could have let you found out through gossip and hearsay but I didn't." Daemon confessed.

"I came to you face to face instead, out of my love for my family and for her. So, I ask you brother for your blessing to marry the woman I love." The men and you were taken back by daemon's words, no one ever heard daemon beg he wasn't weak like that but it seems for you he make a exception.

"You have my blessing."

"Your grace–" Otto said shocked.

"No, I made my decision." The king got up making everyone follow suit, he walked over to you grabbing your hand.

"Welcome to the family." He smiled making you shake his hand thanking him, he left with a brooding otto following after him leaving only you and daemon alone.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Like I'm about to be sick." You giggle nervously turning to him, " I can't belive he said yes." Your turned your head to the door where everyone left.

"My brother have a soft heart, one of his biggest weaknesses but also one of his redeeming qualities." His hand rested on your cheek making you to him giving him a teasing smile.

"So, you love me?" He looked down at you before shrugging with a thoughtful look.

"Maybe. Do you love me?" He asked, you made a looking as if you were thinking.

"Hmmm, I'm getting there." You smiled making him lean down and kiss you, but like before you dodge it having him kiss your cheek.

"Come on. You are I need of a bath." He hummed walking behind you with his arms around your waist.

"Will you join me?" He whispered near your ear making nudge him with your elbow slighly making him chuckle.

"I'll think about it." He hmmed again kissing your neck as you giggled echoed through the halls.

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justmymindandstuff · 5 months

Text

Promise - Jon Snow x Y/N (Reader)

Summary: You are a Lady from House Tully and Catelyn Starks ward. But you love her husband bastard son Jon and he loves you. Your relationship is a secret, but you don't care. But then Jon makes the decision to go to the Wall.

Warnings: implied first time, fluff, forbidden love

Words: 2.876

Gif not mine

English is not my frist language, so forgive me for my mistakes; not proof read.

You sit in the warm room and work on a handcraft. Sansa sits next to you and you both listen to the Septa's words. She explains something about housekeeping and numbers to you and Sansa, but you get bored and Sansa also prefers to concentrate on her stitches. Lady lies at your feet, her eyes are closed and she makes a quiet hum every now and then. Arya, fortunately for her, had hidden before the lesson with the Septa began. She's probably wandering around Winterfell or watching her brothers training with their swords. You are jealous of her.

"Septa, can you please tell us something about the Prince?" asks Sansa. Since Lord and Lady Stark shared with you that the royal party are one their way to visit Winterfell Sansa can only think about the golden Prince Joffrey.

"No, you have more important topics to learn my dear child." the Septa answers.

There's a knock on the door and Jon pokes his head in. Sansa rolls her eyes at the sight of her „Bastard-Brother“.

“Excuse me, Lady Stark sent me to get Lady Y/N.” You put your work aside and stand up.

"We will make up for the lesson." says the Septa.

"Of course." You say, but know you won't mind hearing such boring facts again. "Shall we go for a walk with Lady later?" Sansa asks. The Direwolf opens her eyes when she hears her name, but doesn´t move.

"Yes, I'll come straight to you after I've been to your mother." you answer. You are Catelyn Stark's ward, the daughter of a distant cousin of the Tullys. After your mother died giving birth to your brother and your father was called to Kingslanding by King Robert, Catelyn and her family let you in their house and raise you like you are one of them.

Jon closes the door behind you and smiles at you. You both walk through the corridors.

"Do you know what Catelyn wants?"

"Nothing. It was a lie. Do you really thought Catelyn will send me to get you?"

You laugh. "You can´t do things like that." you say but you smile. "It´s dangerous."

"Is it?" he asks, grabs your hips and press you gently against the next wall.

"Jon no." you giggle but then you grab his hand and kiss him, his grip at your hip tightens. Suddenly you hear steps, you and Jon jump apart and he takes two steps back.

"Because of you we will get caught." You say, Jon holds his arm to you, and you rake under it.

"You kissed me My Lady."

"I am sorry my Lord." Jons gaze is a bit sad now and he opens his mouth but you already know what he wants to say.

"I´m not a Lord.” You are faster than him and he smiles. “I know but I don´t care."

"Do you want to go for a ride?" he changes the topic.

"Of course."

"Good, meet me at the gates." Jon presses a light kiss at your lips and walks down the floor. You take a deep breath to calm down your heartbeat. Everytime you see him you have the feeling that your heart jumps out of your chest and in your stomach fly butterflies. You are madly in love with this man and you have the luck that he loves you too. You know it´s dangerous. He is a bastard and you are a Lady. Your Love is forbidden but you don´t care.

You walk through Winterfell, your home, to the gates. Ghost comes to you and nudges his snout into your hand. Behind the gates waits Jon with two horses. You take the reins from him and get on the horse. Jon also gets on his horse and together you ride off into the forest. It´s a bit cold, but you don´t care. You just enjoy the time you spend with Jon.

Jon stops in a clearing. "Let's take a break." You look at him a little confused, you two usually ride for hours through the forests around Winterfell. And it's usually you who ends up barely getting off the horse because your legs are stiff and hurt. Jon gets of his horse and comes to you to help you, but you don´t need his help. You jump from the horseback and land bevor your Lover.

"Not really Ladylike."

"Shut up Snow." you laugh, and he takes your hand in his.

"Usually, your word is my command." he kisses your hand. "But today I have to talk to you."

You look at him worried. "Something happened?" you ask. Jon sighs, taking your hand in one hand and the reins in the other. Then he starts walking, Ghost runs next to you. You're still waiting for an answer. "I spoke to father today. After the king came to visit, he allowed me to go to the wall."

You stop, forcing Jon to stop too.

"What?"

"It has always been my dream to go to the wall."

"You want to put on the black? You want to leave me?" you can´t believe what you´re hearing.

"No! No Y/N of course I don't want to leave you. But father says the king wants him as his hand. There is no other reason why he should travel north otherwise. And then I can't stay here."

"Robb wouldn't send you away."

"Of course not. But you know what Catelyn thinks of me, when father is gone it will only get worse and besides, what else do I have other than the wall?"

Tears come to your eyes. "You have me. But that doesn't seem to be that important to you." you pull your hand away.

"No! Y/N please. Listen to me okay. Please let me explain."

"What do you want to explain? Why you are leaving me? I don´t want to hear it." You say angrily, you don't want him to leave you. "You said you loved me!"

"I love you."

"You don't leave the person you love."

Now tears come to Jon's eyes too. "What choice do I have?"

"You can stay here with me."

"And then? Continue to hide? Continue to meet in secret? Secret kisses and always being afraid of being caught? In the worst-case Catelyn catches us and she will demand my head."

"No she won't! I'll explain to her that we love each other."

"You know her, she will not listen to you."

"Is that what you care about? Is it fear? Do you not want to see me anymore? But please, don´t leave our home."

"I love you! I can't even spend a day away from you without it tearing me up inside." He pulls you towards him and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is full of passion and love and you cling to him like you'll never see him again. You break apart breathless. Jon rests his forehead against yours and looks deep into your eyes.

“Please believe me that I love you and that I don't want to leave you. But I'm a bastard Y/N, there's hardly a place for me in this world. But I will have a place and a task at the Wall."

"I believe you. But I don't understand why you want to leave. You have a place in Winterfell. Your place is at my side. Isn't that enough for you? Am I not enough for you?"

"Of course." Tears run down your cheeks. Jon carefully wipes them away with his thumbs. “But we both know, someday you will leave Winterfell to marry some old Lord. And then I have nothing left. The Wall is my only way out, even if I have to leave you for it. It is better like this, for both of us.“ It feels like he's leaving you already “Please Y/N please don’t be mad at me and try to understand why I have to leave.”

"I'll try it."

"Let's ride back. You have a meeting with Sansa."

"Now I don't feel like walking anymore."

"I'm sorry. But I just wanted to explain my decision to you."

You nod and you head back to Winterfell. You stay silent the whole way back, you have a lot to think about. Shortly before you arrive, you part ways and you are the first to ride into the courtyard of Winterfell. Jon will follow you after a while.

Sansa comes towards you. "There you are." she calls. "We wanted to go for a walk."

"I'm not feeling so well, Sansa." you say, getting off the horse and walking past her. Sansa looks at you a little confused, but she doesn't say anything else.

Your thoughts revolve around Jon and his decision to go to the Wall.

You try to understand why he wants to leave. And even if you don't really want to admit it to yourself, you can understand his reasons.

You walk towards your room when Arya approaches you.

"Hello Y/N." Arya says happily when she sees you.

"Hello little wolf." You say, forcing a smile on your lips for her. "You weren't at the class with the Speta this morning."

"Yes, I managed to escape." laughs Arya.

"You shouldn't neglect your classes."

"I know."

"I won't tell your mother under one condition."

"What do you want?"

"Come with me and read something to me. You read so well, please Arya."

She rolls her eyes. She hates these things, actually she hates everything that has nothing to do with swords and bows. "Fine." she then agrees. The two of you make your way to your room, you take the book you are currently reading and give it to Arya. It's a silly fairy tale about love, but when Arya starts reading you close your eyes and imagine it's your story. Your love story with Jon.

And then the day comes. The worst day of your life! Today the royal Party will leave Winterfell and with them Lord Stark, Sansa, Arya and Jon. Originally you should travel with Lord Stark and his daughters to Kings Landing, but after Bran fell from a tower, you stay behind with Catelyn and Robb.

You are awake long before the sun will rise, but you couldn´t stay in bed. You get dressed and leave your room. You walk through the corridors up to Jons room. You are not often here, the danger of being caught is far too great, but today nothing matters anymore. You knock at his door, it takes a moment and then he opens the door. He stands in front of you and looks at you in surprise.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

You try to ignore his bare chest and step inside his room.

“I couldn´t sleep and I wanted to say goodbye to you. Before we doesn´t have time for us anymore.” Tears well up in your eyes. You had prayed to the gods that this day will never come, but now there is nothing you can do anymore than watch the love of your life leave.

Jon smiles at you. “I am glade, that you are here, but what if someone sees you?”

“I don´t care.”

“You should.”

“No. Everything I care about is that we only have hours left together.” You reach up to him and kiss his lips.

Jon kisses you back for a second, but than he pulls away. “Y/N.” he sighs and looks at you with sad eyes.

“No. I don´t want to be sad now. Please. We only have a few hours left together. I don´t want to waste them.”

Jon strokes your cheek and smiles. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. Forever.”

Jon kisses you again, you wrap your arms around his neck. Jon wraps his arms around your body and pulls you closer to him. The kiss is full of love and affection. You know he loves you and he know you love him. Even if your love is forbidden, even if everything speaks against your love. Nobody can take this away form you. Not a King, not a Lord or the Wall.

Your hands run over his bare chest.

His lips move to your neck, and you have to suppress a moan. His touch sets a fire inside you. You know this feeling, Jon has triggered this feeling in you again and again.

His hands roam over your back and then in front and over your arms. Jon pulls away from you, breathing heavily. His eyes sparkle and his lips meet yours again. Just for a second and then he pulls away.

"You have to go."

"Why."

"If you stay any longer, I can't promise anything anymore."

"I don't want you to promise me anything." you kiss him again, this time demanding and passionate. Your hands bury themselves in his hair and Jon groans.

"We can´t." He whispers against your lips and then kisses you again. His hands roam over your body and you get goosebumps all over your body.

"I know what you're afraid of, Jon. But don't worry."

Jon looks at you for a moment. You can see in his face that he is thinking.

And then he kisses you passionately. His hands are all over your body. You snuggle up against him and moan under his touch. "Are you sure?" he asks breathless.

"Yes. I've never been so sure."

You turn around, Jon kisses your neck as he undoes the laces of your dress. It falls to the floor and you shiver.

You've never experienced anything like what you had with Jon that morning. It was loving, tender and beautiful.

You lie together on his bed. The sun rises and you hear the first servants walking across the hallways. Jon’s hand gently strokes your bare shoulder.

"We have to get up." you say.

"I don't want this moment to be over."

"I don't want it either." You turn to him and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you Jon.” It's just a whisper in the room, but to you it means everything. No one can take your time with Jon away from you, even if he leaves you today.

“Y/N.” Jon's voice is suddenly serious. "I will travel to the Wall today and I will put on the black. But I want to promise you something. I promise you that we will see each other again." He kisses your forehead and now you can't hold back the tears. "Don't cry my lady."

"I'm trying My." you interrupt yourself. “My Jon.”

You stand next to Catelyn in the courtyard to say goodbye to the king and his entourage. And to say goodbye to Lord Stark, Sansa, Arya and Jon. You hardly dare to look Jon in the eyes. You try to hold back the tears, but you can't quite manage it. A few tears roll down your cheeks, but you can blame it on the fact that you're going to miss Sansa and Arya so much.

The royal party starts moving and Jon also turns his horse towards the gate. But before he leaves Winterfell he turns around again, and your eyes meet. You look into his eyes one last time. He nods slightly at you and smiles. It's a sad smile, but you know what it means. I love you and this farewell isn´t forever. You will see each other again.

The gates close and you stand alone in the courtyard, and for the first time since you have been in Winterfell, you are actually cold. For the first time in your live you feel lonely. Caytlin says something to you, but you don´t hear what she said. You turn around and run into your room. You lock the door behind you and fall weakly onto your bed. Tears immediately stream down your cheeks, and you feel like your heart is tearing apart in your chest. He is gone. He is really gone.

The cold wind blows around your ears and you pull the fur collar of your cloak further up. You take a deep breath and ride towards the gate of Castle Black. You stop just before the gate and get off your horse. Your steps slowly carry you forward.

“Who are you?” a strange voice came from behind the gate.

“Lady Y/N, from Winterfell. I want to see Jon Snow.” Your voice trembles, but you´re almost there. You´re almost with him.

It takes a short moment and then the gate open and you can step into the courtyard of Castle Black. A lot of strange man look at you. You look around nervously. Your hair is messy, and your dress is covered in dirt and the hem is soaked in blood. Robbs blood.

“Y/N.” his voice flows through you, you turn around and looks at him. Jon comes down the stairs and runs across the yard to you. Before he even reaches you, tears are running down your cheeks. Finally, he wraps you in his arms again. You take a deep breath. His scent, so familiar and yet so strange, envelops you. For the first time since you left the Twins you feel safe.

“Please never leave me again.” You whisper in his ear.

“Never. I promise.”

#Jon Snow #jon snow x reader #Jon Snow x Y/N #game of thrones #stark family #jon snow fanfiction #house stark #Catelyn Stark #catelyn tully #sansa stark #arya stark #robb stark #winterfell #asoiaf #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #the wall

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linaartsblogsworld · 18 days

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The Last Targaryen Dragonrider King, Aegon III and his baby Dragon StormCloud commission 🥺🖤

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targaryennumberonelover · 1 year

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Betrothed.

Summary: In which reader is from the north (house Glover), but is betrothed to Daemon, and is annoyed of the southron ladies at court, and gets very excited to see Cregan Stark when he visits from the North as it reminds her of home. Reader spends a great deal of time with Cregan, who is a very pleased guest, almost completely ignoring her betrothed. This prompts Daemon's jealousy, because who else can have you but him?

Notes: This wound up being fairly vanilla. Also my first proper, non-crack fic. Also my first time on this app + first time writing Daemon; so yay! Big milestone. Saw some other stories on this app and got inspired (+love the font). Idk how to write short stories, so girl is long + very loosely spell/grammar checked (should be ok but some parts might be odd). I personally love the northern reader concept lol, hope y'all enjoy.

Warnings: swearing, canon-typical misogyny, Daemon Targaryen (man needs a whole warning, bffr)

In Deepwood Motte you detested late summer snows, they ate away the summer of your early childhood. You always envied Winterfell for the boiling water that runs through the castle walls; and rejoiced each time your house stayed as guests there. What you had envied most, as a babe, was warmth of the south. Now, however, that you had arrived in the southron lands, you missed those late summer snows terribly.

The south was unbearably hot, you'd have servants delivering you iced milk each day, and too often would you remind them to keep it unsweetened. The heat was not half as over bearing as the ladies of court and all their gossip. Back home, there was scarcely any gossip or other wasteful activities. You spent your youth being educated by the septa, learning the lady ways, and once you came of age, you spent your time putting those ways into practice.

The southron ladies always bragged of their luxuries, which were considered nonsensical in the north, their sweets and silks and careless grandeur. It was draining, sickening, even. Even ever modest Queen Alicent, soon to be your sister by law, would agree with the court ladies when they offered you a sweet as though it was an thing utterly unknown to your northern self, and on occasion would ask you to try a tart or cake she enjoyed.

The only person's company you could find peace in this blasted place was your betrothed, Daemon Targaryen. He was not overbearing, was not mocking of your northernness, but rather found common aspects in your values. Often, you two would walk together, and when there was a moment of respite from both of your busy schedules, he would take you to the skies on the back of Caraxes. You'd even visited Dragonstone, once, but most briefly.

Today was no different. The summer sun bore down over King's Landing, and despite the lush shade provided by the garden plants and sandy canopies that were stretched over head, you were hot. Despite the thick honey, you sipped on the iced milk gratefully, and made a mental reminder to gift the poor servants who fanned you generously later.

"These cakes are quite nice," one of the southron ladies said, sliding over a plate full of thick, layered cakes that smelt so strongly of sugar you might've smelt them when Daemon offered you a ride on Caraxes, leagues in the sky. You'd much rather be on Caraxes, with Daemon holding you close, leagues in the sky rather than here. You wished he would come and save you, but alas, you were stuck between a rock and several smothering southerners.

You smiled politely and took the smallest bite of one. "You're right, my lady, these are quite... tasty." You lick your lips, and are momentarily forlorn when there's nothing unsweet to remove the thick taste from your mouth.

Another southron lady seems to remember something, and rushes to finish her bite, fanning her hand in the air to invite our attention to her. "Have you heard?" She asks once she has swallowed, "lady [name], this would be of great interest to you, the good northfolk, like yourself, are coming to the Keep for a visit."

Despite the almost taunting way she says 'northfolk,' you find yourself intrigued. "Which house?" You ask, and your curiosity is not unheard. They seem to hold back snickers as another one of the ladies reply.

"The House Stark, and their party." She says, smugly, though you are lost as to why. It baffles you further how they regard the Starks, the wardens of the north, so casually. Did they not realise that every northern house beyond the neck swore their fealty to the Starks? The negative thoughts do not linger long, for you can't help but be excited at the thought of seeing Cregan Stark once more. In your childhood you had become acquainted with him, and his lord father offered your father a place on his table on several occasions, and later on he did the same.

You smile, widely, and ask, "do you know when they are to arrive?"

The southron ladies seem to look amongst each other for a moment, and it is Queen Alicent who replies from behind us. "They are to arrive on the morrow, Lady [Name]." You did not notice her arrival, and all seem to turn and stand to greet her.

"Queen Alicent," you exclaim, rising to bow to her. "I must excuse myself, I'm afraid I must prepare to see my fellow northfolk. I must catch you at court later, your grace." You give the ladies of court a small nod, before slipping away the way Alicent had came, glad to find respite from the suffocation of court.

The following morning you had dressed more northernly than you had in your entire stay here. You wore a gown with grey over white, with slim fur trimming, little enough that you wouldn't boil. It felt pleasant to be wearing northern colours once more, over the golds and silvers and silky things the south fashioned themselves in. You even found an old pin with the gauntlet of Glover on it, and wore it most proudly as you broke your fast with the court ladies. It was boring and tiresome, as it usually was, but you braved on without complaint and with a smile until, finally, the word came the Starks had arrived.

It took you little time to find yourself in the vast throne room, standing happily by Daemon, your sweet betrothed, awaiting Cregan Stark and his party. It had been nearly two years since you had last seen the Lord of Winterfell, never finding cause to visit before your betrothal, and finding it impossible to do so after.

"Eager, are we?" Daemon hums, noting your excitement. You do not make it difficult. You're practically jumping up and down in anticipation.

You look up at him with a small chuckle, "yes, I'm afraid so." You say, looking down the length of the throne room, a tad disappointed when there are no northerners marching down the hall. "Whilst the south has it's certain... qualities, it has been difficult not to miss the north."

Daemon only chuckles, seemingly amused by both your enthusiasm and desire not to offend any southerners by your distaste for their society.

When the Starks arrive, murmurs flutter around the hall for a moment, then spread madly like wildfire. They come down the hallway, proud and honourable as the Starks are, and bow down to their king and his new queen. There are compliments exchanged, and brief conversation, all the while you're teetering away, waiting for a moment to greet Cregan Stark; when it finally comes, it feels like you are back home.

"It is good of you to make the trip, Lord Stark," you smile as you speak, "not only for the court, but for myself. It may be selfish, but I've been missing the north terribly."

Cregan laughs, lightly so, at my comment. "And the north as been missing you, Lady Glover. Your house is morose without you, and Deepwood Motte emptier than ever. It is a shame you are not to return, you'd make a fine lady for the north."

You let out a laugh at his words, and speak, almost bashfully, "you are too kind, my lord. I am sure my family is doing fine with out me. I would love to return, alas, my place is in the south now."

Cregan lets out a long sigh, and rests a sympathetic touch on your arm. "Alas indeed, but if you ever feel inclined to visit, both Deepwood Motte and Winterfell would be more than glad to take you." He offers, and you smile warmly up at him. You have missed the north grievously, and it brings you deep comfort to speak with a northerner, and to see the direwolf of House Stark, the embodiment of the north, in plenty now.

"It would be good to have another northerner to keep me company, show me the ways of the south... if you would be so kind, my lady?" Cregan asks after a moment of respite, and you are to kind to decline, too glad to have another north soul to save you from the court ladies to say no.

So, you give him your prettiest smile and say, "of course, my lord. I'd be honoured."

Perhaps it was the way he spoke to you, how he called you a lady for the north, never of the north, the sly remarks he would make about the south, of how utterly glad and honoured he would be to take you in the north. Perhaps it was the light touches he placed on your arm, your back, and the way you returned them so innocently. Or, perhaps it was the fact that for the last two day's he had been in King's Landing you had utterly ignored him that made Cregan Stark not sit right with Daemon Targaryen.

More than once he'd clenched his fists and gritted his jaw and ignored the way you two laughed together, the obscene amount of time you spent together. How interested you had been in his gnarly, overgrown dog that slobbered after him everywhere he went. Daemon was left baffled, why would you want a dog when you could have a dragon? He couldn't understand your obsession with the Stark boy, and watching you ignore him and give into the flirtatious prick made him angrier than words could explain.

He didn't know how often his hand strained around his cup until his knuckles went white, or how often he took long sips of his wine to keep himself from saying something that would ruin your happiness. It was the only reason he put up with the ugly cunt as he flirted with you, took advantage of your innocence. He'd longed to kill him, but seeing you more content at court than ever before had prompted him not to.

His patience was wavering thin now, as the two of you sat together, ate together, practically glued at the hip as you laughed over something trivial. Jealousy burned in his stomach, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

And when the feasting was over, and it came time to dance, he wanted to slam his fist down when the bastard stood up before you. "Your hand, my lady?" He asked, with a gross smirk he was sure you'd perceive as a kind smile. "For a dance." He adds, and it is like a cruel taunt directed to him. Did the boy not know you were betrothed to him? That you were happy with a prince? That you didn't want a little lordling instead?

"Yes, of course," you agree, ever glad to indulge in his northernness. Daemon feels his nails dig roughly into his palms as he clenches his fist, and he doesn't care if he draws blood. All he can feel is horrible, terrible jealousy. You were his betrothed, his and his alone. Who did this winter cunt think he was?

He might've ripped off the bard's head for playing such a jovial tune. He watched as Cregan's hands gripped your waist and twirl you around the room. He reached for his goblet and tilted it it back into mouth, and when it emptied, he jerked over a serving girl and had her fill it to the brim. He'd drank overmuch already, but it was all he could do to not knock that poor boy to his feet like the dog he was.

His eyes remained fixed on you like a predator to prey. He watched as the bastard spun you into the crowd, as he lifted you by your waist, at the wide grin on flashing on your lips. Your pretty lips that were meant to be his, and his alone. He took another long sip from his cup. Through the gowns and the jewels he watched you with the ugly winter dog.

And, when Cregan Stark dipped his head down and whispered something to you, too close to your ear for his liking, making you through your head back in laughter, Daemon had enough. He stood up, his movements too sharp, sending his chair scraping behind him. He navigated his way through the heart of lords and ladies, past some drunken fool lifting a serving girl and spinning her in the air whilst the tray she carried clattered onto the ground.

Soon enough his hand found it's way to your shoulder, and held onto you a little too tight as he yanked you away from your dance with the winter boy. "You don't mind if I share a dance with my betrothed, do you, lordling?" He asked, his tone curt; he saw no reason to give this bastard any respect. Trying to steal his own betrothed from right under his nose. No, he would not have it.

His eyes seemed to squeeze with delight and his smirk widen as he watched Cregan's face twitch. "Of course, my prince," he says with a smile, and a short bout of laughter so fake Daemon might've puked. "I do hope you enjoy your time together." The winter dog says, and lift's up his betrothed's hand and gives it a disgusting kiss. The nerve.

"Thank you," you murmur, ever the sweetheart, as Cregan Stark finally takes his leave. You watch after him as he disappears into the crowd, as Daemon's grip on your shoulder holds you tight against him. Once the Stark boy is well and truely gone into the mass, he releases you momentarily.

When you dance again, it is him gripping your hips, it is him picking you up and twirling you around the room. Exactly the way it should be. "You seemed to be enjoying your time together," Daemon croons, looking down at your face with devilish eyes. There is anger in his voice, but it is swallowed up by his affection for you.

"Yes, I suppose I was." You say, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. "IT is nice to have a break from the southron ladies, to have a friend who doesn't mock my northernness."

Daemon's eyes narrow, and he lets out a short hum, his head tilting to a side as he watches you. "I think the little lordling wanted to be more than just your friend, sweet thing." He murmurs.

Your soft expression furrows into one of confusion, and you let out a slight scoff. It's almost amusing how disbelieving you are that pissy lord of the north took an interest in you. "Lord Cregan is merely a friend, I assure you," you say, ever innocent in your ways.

"Oh, my sweet thing, you can not be so naive. Surely you've seen the way that dog eyes you," he says, shaking his head, "it's disgusting, frankly."

You laugh nervously, your head swishing back and forth in denial. "He would never, he knows I am betrothed. I haven't shown any interest in him, regardless." You argue. It's almost frustrating how you jump to defend the boy's actions, but he can not blame you. The ladies of Westeros are often too sheltered, made to think every lord is a gentleman. Sure, you knew of whores and cunts, but Daemon found there was much your sweet, trusting nature kept from your grasp.

He runs a hand gently down your cheek and offers you a kind smile. "Oh, my princess, your betrothal only makes you want him more. Do you not see the strays that sniff under the tables for food just beyond their reach? It matters not if you'll have him or not, he wants you the same." He coos, tilting your chin up to look at him. "The mutt wants something nice to warm his tiny little cock, and what better than a prince's wife?"

"Even if what you say is true," you pause for a moment, perhaps you're contemplating the truth of his words, or uneasy by his vulgar language. With a weak smile but a firm gaze, you finish, "I would never entertain his desire."

Daemon smirks at that, "of course not." He says, proudly so. "Why walk a bitch when you can ride a dragon?"

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toxxicwrites · 1 month

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The Bronze Dragon- HOTD Fanfic- Oc x Aemond Targaryen- Part 1- Introduction

The runestone castle echoed with the laboring groans and screams of Rhea Royce, its ruler. In a chamber room, the lady lay in the middle of the bed, a flurry of maids around her attending to any need. Rhea cried out again, her face scrunched up in pain, dark brown hair sticking to the sweat of her forehead. She squeezed the maid's hand beside her for comfort.

It should be my husband at my side. Rhea thought. But the rogue prince daemon did not participate in his marital duties besides their night of consummation, which now caused her even more pain as she tried to push out the stubborn bronze-dragon child.

“One more push, my lady,” a soft-spoken maid said, using her towel to dab the sweat off her lady's head. Rhea gritted her teeth and nodded. One more push. The babe came out screaming as the maids quickly attended to it, bundling the raging creature into their towels. Rhea let out a sigh of relief, completely exhausted from the almost 48 hours of continuous labor it had put her through.

A maid smiled, holding the bundled figure, “It’s a girl, m’lady.”

A girl. Rhea let a smile grace her face, and despite her exhaustion, she held out her arms.

“Bring her to me.”

The screaming infant girl was placed in her mother's arms and quieted at her touch. Rhea looked down at the babe, noting the white whisps of hair on her head. She frowned until the babe opened its eyes, revealing the same warm brown that her own eyes held. A girl with her brown eyes. A girl was no heir, therefore Daemon wouldn't want her- the babe would be all hers. Her smile deepened at the thought.

“I will name her Visenya,” She declared. This girl would be a warrior, just like her namesake, and Rhea couldn’t help but be filled with pride in her creation.

“I will inform the prince, m’lady.”

Rhea chuckled, “Don’t bother. He won’t care unless it's a boy.”

The maids bristled, but Rhea didn’t care.

“Visenya,” She repeated, staring into the warm brown eyes of her daughter,” the daughter of runestone.”

Growing up in the Vale was peaceful. Away from the bloody politics of kingslanding, it provided a secret paradise for the young daughter of Runestone—Visenya Targaryen. At the moment, she played under the blue sky with other children of the palace, mainly the children of the maids, as she found the noble kids to be absolutely infuriating with their constant complaints and upturned noses when she suggested they play fight, which was just what she was doing now. Visenya, now a small girl of eight, held a stick in her hand, standing atop of a small rock, with her white locks flowing freely in the wind.

“I am Aegon the conqueror,” she declared to the two commoner boys who watched her. “And you will surrender or feel the wrath of my dragons!”

One boy laughed, his freckles moving as he did, and cried out, “Never! Castle Harrenhall is impenetrable!”

The boys held up their matching sticks, and Visenya jumped off the rock, roaring as she did.

“Tis no match for my dragon!” She dropped the stick and mimicked the roars of a dragon as she chased the giggling boys around the grassy hills.

Visenya sat on a small stool in her chamber as her mother hummed, combing her hair illuminated by the firelight. Visenya leaned back closer to the comfort of her mother's touch as she placed the brush down, running soft fingers through her scalp.

“Mother?” The girl asked.

“Yes, dear?”

The girl paused, now unsure of her question.

“Will my father return soon?”

Rhea’s fingers paused.

“I do not know my sweet,” She sighed. Visenya turned around to face her mother.

“He’s fighting the triarchy at the stepstones now, right?

“Yes… he is.”

“Is- is my father a warrior? Like Visenya?”

Rhea placed her hands on the girl's shoulder, her brown eyes staring at her white-haired daughter, looking into the same brown eyes. It was selfish, but she was glad she shared her eyes and not those of her father.

“A warrior,” she began, “Is someone who fights for what is right and holds loyalty to their family. Visenya, your namesake, fought alongside her sister and brother. Now she was a true warrior just like you will be my sweet.”

The small Visenya frowned slightly as her mother kissed her head. One thought ringing through her head. My father is not a true warrior.

“Now, would you like a story before bed?”

The girl smiled, worries dispersed.

“Yes, please. Can you tell me a story of Visenya?”

“Of course, my sweet.”

Daemon Targaryen, the false warrior, did return. It was a day just like any other at Runestone. Visenya sat with a lady, sewing a part of a dress under her tutelage. The lady of Runestone was out hawking, promising her daughter she would return for supper. She returned in chaos as Visenya watched her mother's limp, bleeding body be carried to her chambers by a white-haired man who was later revealed as none other than her father, Daemon Targaryen. Her mother's chambers were locked for Visenya, and she hid outside as physicians entered and left, expressions always grim and hopeless. Her father was nowhere to be found, not that Visenya looked for him, too occupied with guarding her mother's chambers and prying for any information on her condition. She heard the whispers, too. Of the coincident return of her father, having run paths with his lady wife, and then her subsequent injury, which rumor led her to believe was far from an accident. After all, the rogue prince held no love for the lady runestone and kept his mistress in Kingslanding in open defiance of their holy union. For nine days, her mother fought between the gates of life and death. Daemon never visited. Finally, on the ninth day, she arose. Visenya rushed into her mother's chambers at the news, finding her standing on the balcony gazing at the scenery of the vale.

“Mother!” the girl cried out, latching her arms around her waist with an iron grip. She began to cry, now within the warmth of her mother after what had felt like so long.

“Shh, I know, my sweet, I know.”

“They-” the girl choked out between sobs, “they said you wouldn’t make it.”

“But I am here now, my sweet. I am here now.”

An hour later, she was dead.

#hotd #house of the dragon #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targareyn x reader

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chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct · 1 month

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The Maiden and The Stranger

Also I kinda imagine The Stranger's face blurs when she moves

The inspo:

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alaeyne-the-cruel · 3 months

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Rhaenyra, the Bastard of the Vale.

By Zacckiell

From Sunrise and Moonlight, a Bastard and Usurper Rhaenyra AU.

#asoiaf #asoif fanfic #dance of the dragons #hotd #sunrise and moonlight #rhaenyra targeryan #bastard rhaenyra #usurper rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemyra

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sansas-amythest-hairnet · 10 months

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Princess Sansa Greyjoy and Lord Reaper Theon Greyjoy at the presentation of their first child, Florian Greyjoy the future Lord Reaper of the Iron Islands. Her brother King Robb Stark and the Queen Margarey Tyrell were present, it was the first time in centuries that a King visited the Iron Islands for reasons beside revolt, marking a new age for relations between the North and the Iron Islands.

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arabellasleopardcoat · 9 months

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Eyes wide open (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: As you settle into life as a married woman in Westeros, you try to escape and outsmart Daemon. It goes as well as one could expect.

Warnings: Kidnapping, forced marriage, violence, starvation, torturing (Not the reader, at least physically), gaslighting. Very much housewife kink.

A/N: I think you are not going to like this. Might be too much. If you think I missed a TW, please tell me.

Check the previous parts here.

It's not a fun affair, your wedding. Nor does it have many guests. There is a Septon, and Viserys. You would like very much to claw his eyes out. You are not sure if he is a guest or acting as another officiant, but you despise him.

Perhaps a witness. Who knows? Not you. You were not the most observant person on the planet, as the last few months had shown you.

Daemon waves over to some people entering the throne room. There are two young girls, and as they approach, you realize one is Alicent and the other Rhaenyra. In between them, probably to ensure the peace, stands the man from before, the one that tried to help you. Not the young one, the other. The one who was Hand.

Alicent carries a silver haired baby, perched on her hip. You wonder which one he is. The eldest? Maybe? The drunken one.

How disgusting can men be? Really. As Alicent comes closer and closer, the more she looks like just a young girl. Rhaenyra it’s not much older, either. Viserys deserves every second spent in suffering from his illness, marrying hid child's friend. Alicent regards you with sad brown eyes, no doubt pitying you. There is nothing she can do for you, though. Not at this time.

Perhaps you are judging him with modern morals, and she was not as shocked by it as you were. She probably expected it, considering medieval girls married young, and medieval men often did not. Yet, you cannot help but be angry in Alicent’s name. Here is another woman, like Rhea, like you. Trapped into marriage to a monster.

You want to scream and scream and never stop. Until your throat is unable to make more sounds, until you cough up blood and choke on it because surely, it is a better fate than this. A world without Rhea. You open your mouth, turning towards Daemon. A hand on your shoulder it’s all it takes for you to shut up.

Your experience in the throne room showed you all you needed to know. The more barbaric parts of Westeros, the ones that Rhea had shielded you from. In her castle, she did as she pleased. She was a married woman with an inattentive husband in the Middle Ages. Rhea had much more leeway than others.

In the end, what you had liked about Rhea had been that life with her was similar to modern life. Or what you think life must be like for aristocrats in the twenty-first century, only without phones and the Internet. You wouldn't know, having been middle class all your life. But if you closed your eyes, you could pretend you were back where you belonged. Rhea was as free spirited as any woman from your time, if a bit conservative. You never understood why she feared her husband.

Now you did.

Daemon had frightened you. It was just starting to sink in how much power he would have over you now. You were little more than property, and he had a right to discipline you as he saw fit. To take you as he saw fit. After all, marital rape here was no rape.

No one questions that you are being hand fasted with still cuffed hands. Rhaenyra glares daggers at you and at her father, no doubt hurt because of her crush on Daemon. How you long to have access to Wikipedia to see when she falls for Harwin Strong and stops hurting.

You can't make up your mind about if she is a victim too or not. Daemon has groomed her into wanting him. That doesn't seem right. There is no doubt in your mind about it. Her treatment of Alicent could be justified, too. In an internalized misogyny kind of way. But wouldn't that be taking away her agency? But judging Alicent as a victim only… Isn't taking away her agency too?

Can you truly judge them with modern standards? You never spent much time thinking about the ethics of fictional characters. You surely would have been more concerned if you knew what was going to happen.

Too in your head, you barely notice when it's time to say your vows. Daemon, ever dutiful, reminds you of it by unsheathing his sword.

Someone, probably Alicent, gasps. Then, she goes quiet. You repeat your vows, glaring at Daemon the whole time. You would find a way to escape. This was only a temporary setback. And he would hurt, the asshole.

You ignore the voice in your head that tells you it's no use. Not when you have already failed at step one. You have spent a year searching for a way to go back to your world, and have made zero progress. If you run from Daemon, what would you even do? If he found you, no Lord would deny the Prince his wife. He would just have to talk to the liege lord in charge of wherever you are hiding and ask you to be handed back.

Daemon leans in to kiss you. As soon as he is close enough, you bite with all your might. The coppery taste of blood doesn't dissuade you. You keep at it.

“Should have expected that.” He mutters, through a mouthful of blood. His lips don't leave yours. “You Royces are hostile environments.”

Despite being hurt, Daemon keeps kissing you, moaning into your mouth. You are uncertain if it is pain or pleasure. Disgusted by the thought, and the hungry way he licks into your mouth, you stop. He gives you a big grin and kisses you again, biting into your lower lip until he draws blood, too. You yelp, trying to push him off.

“A true Valyrian, this one.” He boasts, grabbing your waist. Viserys and Rhaenyra look transfixed by what just happened. Apparently, something on yours and Daemon's blood stained faces is of significance to them.

Alicent and the man look at each other. Suddenly, baby Aegon gives a tiny, uncoordinated clap. The rest of the guests follow, and you beg to the skies for patience and fortitude. It seems you will need it, with these in–laws.

The cuffs never come off. Daemon shoves you in a room. Feeling oddly like the ghost of the wife in the attic, you decide you need to plan. You have little to your advantage, here. Your hands remain bound, and there is nothing to use as a weapon.

Your head hurts. You have cried too much. First, mourning Rhea, then pitying yourself. No more. You have read enough novels and watched enough awful movies to know how this might end if you succumb to weakness. This is not a love story, and you won’t develop Stockholm syndrome. You refuse.

You will keep repeating this phrase to yourself in the days to come. Feeding your anger, your treatment is not bad. It’s probably a bad idea to alienate your captor, but you decide to go on a hunger strike. Despite how hungry you are, not having eaten since the day Daemon arrived at the Vale, you do not trust him to not drug you or poison you.

He might think you valuable, but he is also known for being a rogue. He might change his mind at any moment. If it were up to you, you would not drink water, either, but you know you can’t survive without it. So you drink as little as you can. It also saves you from the indignities of not having the privacy of a bathroom.

Daemon comes to you on day six of your hunger strike. You are weak as a kitten, and half delirious with thirst. You have lost quite a few pounds. Your head hurts, you are dizzy, you want to go home. Never had you been as starved as now, or as dehydrated. Modern life meant you went hungry to bed, sometimes. Either for your financial situation or because of diet culture. But you had never felt as weak. One thing was skipping a meal, another refusing food for six days.

He enters the room with another man, one that wears noble clothes, but you have never seen before.

“… Not eating. Nothing. And barely drinking water.” Daemon explains, approaching the bed. Too weak to really fight him, you conform yourself with sitting up. As you are, you cannot be any kind of serious resistance. It’s the first time he has seen you since the wedding and by the look in his face, you look terrible. “Cries in her sleep, too.”

The other man approaches you. He reaches a hand towards you, and you scream, backing up quickly and nearly falling off the bed. You don’t know who he is, but you know you don’t want to be touched. Panic bubbles up in your throat. Bound hands. No escape, no way of fighting back. Is he here to hold you down? For Daemon to…? The thought is too horrible to finish.

You scratch at the man’s face, trying to aim for his eyes. This close, you can tell he is older both than Daemon and you. He looks kind. But looks can be deceiving. You resume your efforts, as the man screams, and you feel blood under your fingers.

Daemon grasps at your shoulders, but you only trash more. It’s a weak attempt. His arm wraps around your waist, firmly.

“Seven Hells.” The older man mutters. You have managed to lift skin around his forehead, three clear impressions of scratches marrying his face. With Daemon holding you firmly down, the man presses down on your stomach. Then, over your womb. He examines your face attentively as he does so. You snarl at him and try to kick him off. Daemon’s grip gets harsher.

Is he going to sell you now? Is the man checking you over because he is a potential buyer? You would rather not be sold, and so resume your trashing. People trafficking was bad in your time. It’s even worse now, with no laws to defend you. You could become a slave, or worse.

The man, the slave trader, tries to check your teeth. You bite down on his fingers hard.

“Your wife appears to be fine, physically.” The man finally says. A doctor? Healer. Physician. Whatever they call them here.

“Fine?” Daemon asks, tone absolutely enraged. “Fine! She is starving to death.”

“Her ailment is not physical. It’s grief and rage.” The healer, as you have now decided to call him, answers in a soothing tone. You wonder if he was chosen to visit you for that reason. Both you and Daemon must be maniacs in his eyes. You can’t bring yourself to care.

“I see.” Daemon says, tone dangerously low. Then, he grabs you by the cheeks and forces you to look at him. “What do you think you are doing, refusing food? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

You grin at him as best as you can with him squeezing your face. He makes a frustrated noise.

“It’s called a hunger strike.”

“Strike? Strike?” Daemon shouts, shaking you harshly. You let your body go lax, hoping it makes you less dizzy. You feel like you might pass out. “What in the world does that mean? You little…”

“My Prince…” The healer sounds concerned. “She looks like she is about to throw up.”

“Hell if I care!” Oh, it seems like you really angered him, you think to yourself. The thought feels distant and cloudy. Your vision starts to blur. Are you about to pass out? A sharp sting to your cheek brings you back to your senses. You blink, trying hard to focus. What have you done to yourself? Daemon has his hand raised, as if about to slap you again. The healer is making distressed sounds. “Listen to me, little brat. You will drink your tea and eat, or else I will force food down your throat until you choke.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. You start shaking your head.

“Broth. She will have to have broth, if you want her to be alright. Her stomach will be unable to handle more at first. We can lace it with Milk of the Poppy.” The healer says, in a low voice. It’s clearly aimed at Daemon, but you sit up straighter. You recognize that name. It was something like an opioid, right?

“No, no. That's a sedative. No. I don’t want it. You will poison me.” You start tearing up in sheer terror. Panic is choking you up, making you unable to think clearly. Daemon laughs, humorlessly.

“That’s the problem?” Daemon’s voice is harsh and loud, making you wince. He grabs a carafe of water sitting on your table. He takes a big gulp, making sure you see. Then, he passes it to you. His hand goes menacingly towards his sword. With no other choice, you drink. That’s how your hungry strike ends. Defeated not even a week in.

It takes you a few days to go back to your previous strength. Daemon’s visits become more frequent. He eats with you twice a day, always tasting before you the nutritious broths and milk glasses you are given. With no excuse and under his watchful eye, you have to eat.

As you recover, you get the strength to explore. Your new rooms were not bad. It could even be called a vacation. You didn’t have this, with Rhea. You had had a nice room for a servant, which was in reality a normal room for a person of the twenty-first century. A bed, a small table and a chair. With a window because you had told Rhea you were unable to stand closed spaces.

This room was not like it. There was one window, high enough for you to need a chair to reach it. You had no chair or table, only a bed. The bed was comfortable enough, the room spacious. It allowed you to pace a lot. You had books on Old Valyria, written in High Valyrian. If you thought Middle English was hard, it was because you had not met this terrible language.

You were determined to crack it, though. If High Valyrian was the Westeros's equivalent of Latin, perhaps you could find something more about how to get back to your time. All books of greater knowledge had been written in Latin, that you knew. It had been the language of intellectuals. Perhaps High Valyrian was the same.

It provided a good distraction, seeing as the room was bare aside from the bed and stack of books. And… Well. The candles. It looked more in here like the altar of a church, with how many there were. There was also incense, always burning. Perhaps as a way to amplify your powers because you had not seen anything like it during your year in Westeros. You wondered how much it had cost.

Your powers. Good God, what a joke. You had tried telling Daemon and Viserys, but it was no use. At most, they patted your head and said the poor little dreamer was confused with so many visions of the future. No one would listen to you.

Both of them seemed to think there was something sacred in you. Daemon had gotten you new clothes, thin white shifts. To you, it looked like a sluttier version of a roman toga.

“As the priestess of Old Valyria used to wear.” Daemon had proclaimed, proudly. You had rolled your eyes, but you were soon wearing them. Your clothes just got too dirty to stay in them, and the silk felt cold and soft on your overheated skin. Allowed only one bath per week, there is not much you can do about your cleanliness apart from changing clothes.

It takes time, getting used to your own skin again. After a year of nearly wearing as many layers as an onion, you were back to simpler clothes. No undergarments had been supplied, but you couldn’t stand the feel of your dirty ones, too worried about getting a UTI and dying because there were no antibiotics here.

Daemon visits you daily. He sits there and stares, fascinated by you. As if you were an exotic animal. It’s one of those days when you speak your first word to him. It’s difficult to build the courage for another escape attempt.

“I was wondering if I could have some ointment for my wrists.” You say, very quietly. He is sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at you with absolute fascination. It’s a bit creepy. “My Prince.”

That’s what you have heard other servants call him. You are uncertain if you should do as Rhea did and call him husband. Both of them had had rather creative nicknames for each other and so, whatever protocol they used might be incorrect.

Rhea. Poor Rhea. You don’t want to share her fate, but you would rather not surrender to Daemon either. You feel guilty for even thinking about it.

Rhea appears in your dreams, every night. Her laughter, her voice, her corpse. Did he cremate her? Bury her? You can’t remember, and no one has told you. You wish you could visit her resting place, perhaps leave her flowers. Maybe get her advice. You miss it dearly.

“What's wrong with your wrists?” Daemon steps towards you, and you flinch. His past treatment of you is still too fresh. He is a ruthless man, you remind yourself. Play nice.

"They are sore.” You try to look relaxed, forcing the tense line of your shoulders to drop. Relaxed. Nice and pliant, for your psycho husband. Polite, and just the slightest bit whiny. He fetishizes immaturity, you remember. Younger girls. Laena and Rhaenyra both were. “I have been chained up for days. I don't want the cuffs to cut my skin, I might get an infection."

He takes your wrists in a very gentle grip. You don’t know why, but his hands on the cuffs make you start to tear up. Too much. You are overwhelmed, suddenly. It’s as if the grief has come crashing down all at once.

“You hurt yourself.” Daemon says, looking at your wrists from all angles. There are raised lines on them, from all the tugging you and him had been doing. “I’ll get you softer ones.”

He brushes a thumb over your cheek, and you sob even harder. Daemon does not seem bothered by your fear or your tears. No. He presses his wet thumb to his lips, as if he is barely conscious of it. It sparks an image in your mind. Under him, crying, his lips drinking up your tears.

You shake your head, as if you could vanish the image from your mind. You need to be on your best game, tonight. Head clear and not scared anymore. Fear clouds the mind, and you can’t afford that if you hope to deceive him.

“You don’t want softer cuffs, Dreamer?”

You don’t answer. You give a tiny sniffle.

“I… I miss my sister. I miss my home.” You look up at him, with a tear stained face and big sad eyes. Daemon brushes your cheek, again. “I want to go home.”

“You have to be calm, little one.” He whispers, kissing your forehead. You feel cold all over, as if submerged in a pool of despair. Focus. You need to focus because you can tell he is close to breaking. You need to take a mile when he gives an inch if you want to survive.

“I wish to go home.” You repeat, starting to pout.

“This is your home now.” Daemon kisses your cheek, softly. You whine, low and sad. All bratty princess. You hope he falls for it. Daemon’s non-existent brows pinch together. Hook… Line… “What about this? If you are good, and share a useful secret with Viserys, we can go back to Runestone.”

Runestone! Finally, finally. To be near Rhea and perhaps the chance to escape. You have him. You have him by the balls, and he doesn’t know it yet. Fool.

“I’ll try, husband.” You force yourself to smile, as if you were the happiest girl in the world. He looks pleased.

You wait a few days to drop the bomb on Viserys. It would do no good, if you share all your limited knowledge of the Dance and end up losing what little leverage you have. It wouldn’t be good, either, if Daemon thought you could summon visions at a whim.

“Alicent will misunderstand your words, and Otto will take advantage of it to place Aegon on the throne. He will grow into a fine drunk.”

As Otto Hightower falls, you rise. It feels like a dirty thing to do, but you want to go back to Runestone more than anything. You know the terrain there, you could have a chance at escaping. From what you remember, Otto’s only sin had been being too ambitious and pimping Alicent out. But he is Daemon’s enemy, and if you drag him down, it pleases him. A pleased Daemon is a better Daemon. He gets sloppy when he is smug.

Daemon has no choice but to take you back. Dreamers must be kept calm and cared for. And you would be very upset if he goes back on his word. Your power could wane. You make sure this is clear to him.

It’s back at Runestone he makes a mistake. He has had the guards that opposed him replaced. But he has given no thoughts to the servants.

Mina is the one assigned to serve your food, out of all the kitchen girls. Perhaps Daemon handpicked her because he thought her easy to intimidate after their first meeting. Perhaps it’s just sheer luck.

“He has ordered for you to have a special diet, milady.” She explains, as she places a tray down by your bed. You have yet to acquire a table, Daemon thinking it too much of a risk. He has no idea.

“Mina, I’m not…” You hurry to correct her. You would never want to be called by Rhea’s title. It feels like disrespecting her memory. And it’s strange, too. To be treated with such deference. Not even in your time had anyone treated you as if you were royalty.

Had you pulled a similar stunt as you did with the healer with a doctor, you would have probably been institutionalized. If the doctor didn’t press charges for assault and battery first, of course.

“Not a Lady? You own this castle. That man might be parading around like a peacock, but I much rather serve you.” Mina says, sitting on the edge of your bed. She is not meant to, but neither of you care. This is the only normal conversation you have had in nearly a month.

“What’s all this about?” You point at the tray, when it’s clear you won’t be able to convince her. It’s filled with a strange array of food. Used to your broths and cups of milk, and light soups and bread, you wonder what this is all about. There is a cup with warm milk, as always, but this time smells of clover. There are also eggs, and seafood.

“They are meant to stir desire and aid conception.” She points to each item. “It should all be eaten warm, or so Thea says. Else it will cool you.”

“I think I will never…” You start saying, but Mina grasps your hands, urgently shushing you. Her jaw jutts towards the door, seemingly aware of something you are not. Heavy footsteps. Boots. They pause at your door, before resuming their path.

“Don't say that. Don't. We might joke around about it, but he always gets his way. Men like him, they don't know how to lose.” She whispers, urgently. Trying to look out for you. You think of the possible consequences of saying such a thing in front of Daemon. It’s not a pretty picture.

“They really don't.” You agree, sadly.

Daemon does not know how to lose. That much is true. But neither do the two of you. It is only a week before Mina slips you the key to your room, taken from an unsuspecting guard.

It’s not easy, waiting for the right time to use it. You have to do it before breakfast is served, so no one notices the key to be missing. Acting too soon means endangering Mina and you.

The hour of the witch, then. Fitting. These people actually believe there might be ghosts roaming the halls at three am. With your white shifts and chains, you could pass as one if not looked at closely.

When the sky looks dark enough, you open your door and run. Runestone is silent, in the quiet of the night. Servants would rise at the first rooster's crow, you know because you used to, the first days before meeting Rhea. You make sure to stick to their passages and corridors, and not the main ones, less some guard is still roaming the halls.

It feels like an eternity, the time spent running as silently as you can. Your pulse pounds loudly in your ears. When you finally exit the castle, you nearly sob in relief. It’s astonishing that no one has caught you yet.

Now comes the hard part. You have to find a way to get out of the Vale, fast. Somewhere far enough that Targaryen influence will not touch you. And get rid of the cuffs while you are at it.

Rhea had a hunting lodge, on the edge of the grounds. There she kept all sorts of weapons and knives to skin animals with. Perhaps something there can be useful to break your chains and protect yourself while on the road. You decide to head there, but do not dare take the path, afraid of discovery.

The moon shines brightly, the sky clear. It’s a good night to escape because you can actually see where you are going. You know the forest, having rode with her many times through it. Even if you found hunting disgusting, Rhea liked to take you with her. If you go through it, you could get where you need to be and avoid the path.

You give yourself a silent pep talk, reminding yourself that at least the grass and moss will be gentler on your feet than the earth. You try to ignore your doubts about if you will actually be able to get there, reminding your way in the middle of the night.

As soon as you could, you were so getting shoes. A sudden, shrill screech makes you rush into the forest, hoping the darkness conceals you. You know that sound. Caraxes. He shouldn’t be here. The dragonpit Daemon had ordered to build for him is on the opposite end of the grounds, to avoid him setting the whole forest aflame.

It can only mean two things: He either escaped or Daemon took him out for a ride. Neither are good for you.

You pray to whoever that’s listening to cloak you, let the darkness be enough to be kept unseen. Your heart beats even faster, muscles tense and ready to dart away. Ducking behind some bushes, you try to muffle your breath with your hands, silently starting to cry.

It’s not quiet enough. The tree next to you catches fire, and you scream. You were so close! So close, you could almost taste freedom. And it was taken away from you, again.

“Ah, Wife! Come to lure me back to bed?”

You shiver. Daemon urges Caraxes to fly lower and extends a hand in silent demand. He can’t actually land here, not without ruining half the forest. But it’s clear what he wants.

Is there something more terrible than being forced to climb back into your captor’s arms, with bound hands? You don’t dare ask. But probably. You don’t want to know what he will do to you in punishment.

The scandal rises all the castle. Confused servants and guards pour out of the rooms to watch the ruckus occurring in the dining hall. You feel absolutely humiliated, in the sheer shift, barefooted and dirty, while Daemon scolds you as if you were a child.

“What in the Seven Hells were you thinking?” He shakes you, roughly. For a moment, you fear he might kill you right there. You look at the crowd of servants and shrink into yourself. Daemon follows your gaze.

“Ah.” He pulls out a chair and pushes you to sit there. You go meekly, too embarrassed to drag it further. You feel like you stink of failure. Slowly, with each thwarted escape attempt, hopelessness is starting to take hold of your heart. “I suppose I can't blame you, for taking an opportunity when it arose. Question is…” Daemon pulls another chair and straddles it backwards, perching his chin on the backrest. He glares at the servants. “Who allowed it?”

The servants stay in silence. You close your eyes fearing giving Mina away. No one speaks for a long while, all of you frozen in the face of Daemon's rage. His chair creaks when he gets up. You keep your eyes firmly closed.

There is a sudden weight in your lap. You open your eyes and there is Mina's terrified face, looking right into yours.

“I have found a traitor. Do you know what happens to traitors here?” Daemon asks you. Your eyes widen. You shake your head. “Oh, I think you do, Lady Wife. But I will be merciful. After all, she is your little friend.”

He gestures for a guard to approach. The man does, and Daemon whispers something in his ear. You look at Mina, still on your lap, whose lips are silently moving. Praying. You squeeze her hands. She squeezes yours back. She can't see that the guard has returned with a whip.

You try to say something, but Daemon is faster. He cracks the whip against the back of her nightclothes, which do little to soften the blow. Mina's eyes widen, filled with tears, and she screams loud and shrill, nearly falling off from your lap.

“I'm thinking… Fifty?” Daemon smirks, raising the whip again.

“Daemon, please.” You beg, as Mina desperately clutches at your shoulders.

“I'm not really in the mood to listen to you.” Daemon brings the whip down again, making Mina scream. Oh, how you regret now trying to escape. You should have never tried. “Next time, do not be so familiar with the help.”

The next time he hits her, it's you who starts crying. Mina shakes her head and pinches you, but you still beg.

“Daemon, please. Please, no more.”

He ignores you, cracking the whip again. You scream with her. The coppery scent of blood fills your nostrils, and you know he has to be hitting the same spot on purpose because there is no way he is drawing blood this soon without being cruel. The next time the whip goes down, you throw both of you on the ground, trying to protect her from more hits. The whip hits you around the shoulder.

“You just never learn, do you?” Daemon pulls you off Mina, kicking and screaming. “Willing to do anything to protect this whore who has done nothing to help you.”

“Please, please. I will take it for her. Please, she only got me the key, surely that's not…” You keep on pleading because while you might not have known Mina a lot, it was a horrid thing, watching someone be whipped because they tried helping you. Her only crime was trying to do the right thing, when no one else dared to. Bravery.

“Oh? You wish to trade places? As if you were some worthless little whore?” Daemon taunts, still holding you in his arms.

“Daemon, please.”

“You are my wife. Perhaps once you were to be a worthless little whore. But you are mine, now.” His hand brushes the curve of your neck. A threat and a caress, all rolled into one.

“Something else! Something else! We can negotiate, please.” At this point, you would agree to anything, desperate as you are to save Mina’s life.

His eyes glimmer. He has what he wanted.

“Put the girl in the cells. I will see to her in the morning. Right now… I have to tend to my wife.”

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon x oc #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #divine intuition series #also known as cristi angers her followers part 2 #asoif fanfic #daemon targaryen x y/n

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bugshideaway · 8 months

Text

｡⁠.ﾟ the green queen ⊰⁠⊹ฺ

｡⁠.ﾟ alicent hightower ⊰⁠⊹ฺ.

by: bugshideaway

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allkordelia · 3 months

Text

Keep Me Near Your Heart XV

"How's anyone seen, Daeron." I ask walking up to the table for breakfast, " I went to fetch him for breakfast, but he wasn't in his room." I look at Aemond as I stood beside his chair, his hand comes up to rub circles on my growing belly as he admires it with a smile.

"He's probably in the courtyard with Ser Cole," I frown at the mention at the knight, Aemond knock his hand against the chair next to him before pulling it out, "Come sit, my love." Aemond drag his hand down to tap the seat, I move from his other side to take the seat next to him.

The servants were quick to fill my plate with food before stepping back, Aemond move his hand from the table to put his hand on my stomach, his hand miss a few inches making me grab his hand and place it where he wanted it to do. Aemond's hand rested on my belly, the low chuckling from across the way made me look up with a death glare, Aegon swallow down his laughter when his eye connect with mine.

He looks away from me as he hide behind his cup, I roll my eyes and sat back in my chair.

The arrival of the babe was just a few weeks away, I would be happy about finally meeting my sweet child if it wasn't for the fact that the queen thought it be a good idea to send invitations to everyone in the family to come celebrate the arrival of the babe. I am still conflicted about having to see my mother and aunt after nearly a year of not talking, my mother I don't really care about but I am afraid of dealing with rhaelle since I promise her I write her every chance I get.

The sounds of the door opening from behind made me turn, Daeron stalk in with a upset look and not too far behind was Alicent and her trusted knight, Ser Cole, I watch as he pulled out a chair next to Aemond and cross his arms. I eye Daeron curiously before glancing at Alicent as she take her seat at the head of the table, she had a neutral look on her face as she got settle, I take a quick glance at Ser Cole before looking away.

It was quiet as we ate, only the sounds of forks scraping against the plates and the soft muttering from Helaena was the only thing that filled the air. It felt intense. I look at Aegon to see him eyeing Daeron, I squint before shifting in my chair making it creak.

"Is something wrong?" I look up and look at Alicent as she lean forward with her hand folded under her chin.

"N-no, just...trying to get comfy." Alicent hummed before leaning back and snapping her fingers.

"Go fetch the princess a more comfortable chair to eat in, please." Alicent commanded, but I spoke up stopping the servant from moving and alicent to look back at me.

"It's fine. I just need to stretch my legs," I lean forward a bit to look at daeron who was glaring at his food, "Daeron, do you wish to join me--"

"No." He bluntly said catching me off guard.

It was out of character for daeron to refuse to accompanying me, he usually be very happy to join but his harsh tone took me by surprise.

"Daeron." Alicemt called sternly, I glance at her as she gives a look to her youngest.

Daeron sigh with a growl and turn his head towards me, "Thank you for the offer but I must decline, jaenara." I frown.

"Are you sure--"

"Yes, I'm sure why wouldn't I be." He snapped, I gape at him taken back, "Can you leave me alone already." Aemond glare at him.

"Watch how you talk to my wife--"

"Shut up." He snapped again looking at his brother.

"Daeron!" Alicent hissed.

Daeron snap his head at his mother, he saw the look she was giving making him growl again and scoot his chair back.

"I'm going to godswood, no one bother me." He snips talking away from the table, I could help but stand and watch him leave the hall.

"What was that about." I ask to no one in particular as I stare at the door.

"He's just...moody," Alicent started making me glance at her as she sip from her cup, "All boys act like that at his age," I put my hand on my stomach with frown.

"I think you meant to say brat, mother." Aemond states looking at his plate as he stab his eggs, "A bit of discipline can fix that." He added.

"Your brother doesn't need any discipline, aemond. His just a child, if I remember you were the same when you were his age." Alicent took her cup again to put it to her lips as she looks at her son.

"Yeah, that's because someone took my eye out." He replied before shoving food into his mouth.

Alicent swallow her wine before clearing her throat and remaining silent, I look at aemond as I put my hand up to scatch at the back of neck near his hair making shudder slightly. His hand went to my lower back, rubbing it in a comforting way.

He thinks we are good, that our marriage is saved and secure. I thought it would be hard to pretend to love him again, but thanks to aemond and the baby inside me, it was easy for me to get my way nowadays.

"What was that, Aegon?" I snapped back to the present and glance between Aegon and Alicent as she stare at her with stern look.

"Nothing, mother. I do not know what I am saying I'm a bit drunk." Aegon replied with a small smirk as he swirl his wine in his cup.

I furrow my brows and look at helaena as she look at aegon with a sad frown, I tilt my head slightly trying to figure out what just happened.

"Hela." I called making the young princess look at me with wide eyes, "Do you wish to go for a walk with me?" Helaena gape for a second before closing her mouth and nodded, I smiled and held out my hand making her get up.

She took it and walk around the table to link our hands, I look at aemond as he wipe his mouth with the cloth.

"I'll be back in a few, husband. Do not forget that we going to visit the younglings later." I said pointly making him look up at me with a small smile.

"Of course, my love." I hum before binding down to kiss his cheek, he turn his head instead to capture my lips.

I pulled back smiling before stepping away from the table, helaena and I walk towards the double doors, I heard talking once we close the door. I didn't need to stay to hear what they were saying, if it was about daeron she will found out why the young boy has been in such a moody.

We walk through the garden hand and hand, I gaze at the different colors of flowers as helaena stare off in her own head.

"Helaena." I called as I stare at a bed of black locusts, I look at her just as she looks at me, "Have you notice something is bothering daeron, he seems highly upset about something." Helaena glance away with a look that told me all I needed to know, "....Helaena." I drawl out with a look, helaena looks back at me with a meekly look.

"...the dragon has been strip of his wings, he lives in turmoil...no thanks to the wolves." I furrow my brows and tilt my head at her words, it was always hard to understand helaena's riddles as a child.

Even now as a adult it's hard to understand what she is saying.

"What does that mean?" I asked stopping in our tracks, helaena looks unsure as she averted her gaze.

"...you must seek him out to understand." She whispered looking back at me, I frown for a moment before nodding my head.

I loop my arm through helaena's arm, we continued our walk through the garden. My thoughts go to daeron, the way he acted at breakfast and the way Alicent was acting towards Aegon, it obvious they hiding something and I rather not wait to found out.

「 ⊹₊♚₊⊹ 」

Godswood was empty. After escorting Helaena back to her chamber to attend to her children, I came to gidswood in hopes to find daeron, so we could talk. I look around as I walk further towards the tree, once under I heard sniffing, I walk around the tree only to found no one. I frown before I heard rustling in the trees, u look up and through the branches and leaves I could see daeron hiding up there.

"Daeron? What are you doing up there, get down before you hurt yourself." I move around to get a better look at him, he glance at me before quickly turning his face to hide.

"Leave me alone." He voice was rough as if he been crying.

"Daeron, what's going on." I ask looking up at the tree, my hand went to my belly feeling anxious at how high he was.

"Go away." I sigh desperately looking up at him.

"Please, Daeron. I only came to see if you were okay."

"I'm fine! Are you happy? Now, leave me alone." He snapped causing me to look up at him sadly.

"Daeron, please come down, whatever is on your mind we can talk–" Daeron turn his head to look down at me with a scrunch up red face.

"I don't want to talk you, or anyone at that matter." He hissed every word filled with vemon, "So, fuck off." He added turning away again.

I huff through my nose looking up at him, I look at the tree for a minute before stepping towards it and getting on my tippy toes.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"If you won't come down and talk, then I come up." I said holding on to the tree before lifting my foot to try to climb.

"Jaenara just leave me alone, and stop that! Before you hurt yourself." I shook my head as I boost myself up as I grab onto the branch before pausing to look up.

"I'll stop if you talk to me." Daeron's eyes held so much conflict that his silence made me move again, I gasp when my foot slip but lucky enough I was still holding tight on the branch.

"Jaenara! Stop it. You going to hurt yourself and the babe, do your being stupid." I let out a breathless chuckle.

"Well, I do stupid things for the people I love, I don't know what to tell you." I utter but by the way daeron was silent made known he heard me, I yelp sliding down the body of the tree to land on my butt, "...ow." I mutter, I heard daemon gasp and call my name, the sound of rustling made me look from me rubbing my bottom to daeron getting out of the tree to come to my side.

"By the gods, jaenara. Are you okay?" He asked worried making me give him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine just fell on my butt." Daeron grabbed my elbow helping off the ground, I brush off the dirt from my dress before looking at daeron, "Daeron, I'm sorry..." The young prince look at me with a mixture if confusion and shock, "...I know I put you in a situation you didnt want to be in, but the way you been acting has me worried about you." I confess.

Daeron looks down meekly with a defeated look, "You know whatever it is that is bothering you, you can tell me right. You know I will not judge you." Daeron sniffle moving his hand to wipe his nose on his sleeve.

"But, you will be angry with me." He utter making me give him a look.

"I can never be angry at you, nothing can make me mad at you." I reach my hand to touch his cheek only for him to flinch away, I frown at the way his eyes welled when he look at me, "...Daeron, whatever it is I promise you on my aunt and everyone I love life that I will not be mad at you...never. You mean too much to me for me to ever hold any anger in my heart for you, so i ask again, please tell me what is wrong. " Daeron's chin started to wobble a bit along with his bottom lip, before I knew it he throw his arms around me and sob.

The sound that came from my uncle broke my heart, it felt like someone was squeezing it making it hard to breathe. I slowly wrap my arms around him, my hand move to massage his hair as he cries.

"...I-I didn't want to go...b-but aegon made me," Daeron wept, "...I'm sorry, jaenara...I'm so so sorry," My head was spiraling to what he was apologizing for, and as I sense a feeling in my gut that made me hold Daeron to me tighter.

My mind goes to aunt rhaelle and uncle daemon, a memory that I don't remember played in my head and soon a feeling of anger spread through my body.

"It's alright, daeron." I rub his back, "...everything's going to be alright, sweet boy." I whispered burying my face in his hair before kissing his hairline.

「 ⊹₊♚₊⊹ 」

I watch Daeron's sleeping form in my bed, once we came back to my chamber, daeron finally explain what been eating at him. Once he was finish, he went back to crying and I held him as he did, I didn't know what to do but sooth him and assure him that I wasn't angry with him. I shook my head and pushing those thoughts aside hearing the a gentle knock at the door.

I turn around and opened the door to see Enith, she smiles at me and I return the gesture. I step aside and she walked in her eyes going straight to daeron, i could see in her eyes that she was confuse and worried to see Daeron here.

"I must go." I said making Enith turn her attention back to me, "I'll won't be gone long." Enith frown a bit.

"Where are you going?" She asked, my eyes bounce over to daeron before going back to Enith.

"To have a little talk with aegon." I respond, "If he wakes tell him that I'm running a errand, okay." Enith's brow twitch before nodding her head, I smile at Enith before turning on my heel.

I close the door behind me and make my way down the corridor, I half expected Enith to stop me, to talk some sense to me. I know she knows that something is wrong and that visiting Aegon is out of character for me, I wonder if she knows about what happened to daeron with her witchy powers.

I turn the corner before stopping when I see Aemond coming down the hall, it took a moment for him to notice me and he smiled my way.

"My love, I was just about to come see you...." He smiles widely, I glance around thinking, if aemond founds out I was going to see Aegon. He definitely would stop me, but I can't let aegon's action go unpunished nor can I let aemond take care of it.

I have no doubt he pick his brother's side over thus.

"Jaenara." He called softly standing in front me, I look up at him as he stare down at me with curious expression.

"Sorry, my love. What did you say?" I ask moving around, he follow suit and walk beside me.

"I was thinking about names for the babe," he says, I hum telling him to continue, "I have two I wish to name our boy, the first is Alaric a masculine name from my mother. She says it means all powerful ruler." I glance at him as he grins, I refrained from rolling my eyes, there was no way in all seven hells I was naming my boy after that fool wench.

"And the other one." I ask.

"Maegor." I stop and turn to him with a look, "...I know but I doubt our son will end up like maegor the first, and beside I think he can give different meaning to the name. Imagine, he could be maegor the clever or maegor the righteous." He smirk at the thought, I could only hum in response before continue on my way.

It was quiet between us, my mind was wielding on what I was going to do once I get to Aegon's chamber. I was stomp. I didn't know why I was doing this or why I was making it into something more than what it was, maybe I wanted to show daeron that I cared and that I am with him. Something in the back of my mind was telling me how stupid it is to confront aegon about taking daeron to the brothel, he was a boy, I understood that men should know what to expect during their consummation. But, the way daeron was acting says there was more but he was still afraid to tell me, and something deep in my gut told me that I had to do this. That I had to protect him.

I was brought back to the present by Aemond's hand on my wrist stopping me from going towards Aegon's door.

"Why are we visiting Aegon." Aemond ask looking at me.

"We're not. I am." I replied moving to step forward only to be stopped again.

"Why." He demanded making me give him a look.

"I have something to ask." I said with a edge in my voice to show aemond I wasn't in no mood for him or his jealousy.

"What about?" He asked again with a annoyed look, I glare at him before I could tell him none of his business.

Aegon's door opened making us look over, a servant with wild red hair appeared with a tray in one hand. She look at us in shock before fixing her face and averting her eyes, she bow towards us acknowledging our presents before swiftly stalking away down the hall leaving Aegon's door open. I slip my from Aemond's grasp and he called my name as I walk into the room, I stop a few feet away from the door as I scrunch up my nose at the odor in the room. It didn't take long to realize what just occur in here, I look over at aegon as he stood at the table with a cup in his hand wearing nothing but his trousers.

I cleared my throat catching Aegon's attention, he grin and open his arms to me.

"Neice, what do I owe you and my one-eye brother visit." He ask pulling out a chair and taking a seat, I glare at him at the insult towards aemond.

"Always nice to see you sober, brother." Aemond replied from behind me as Aegon grab a apple from the bowl in the middle on the table before biting into it.

"Oh, Aemond. You know I only jest, little brother." Aegon smirk.

I heard Aemond growl making me step forward catching Aegon's attention, "Apologies for the intrusion, uncle. But, I hoping you can shed some light on something for me." Aegon look at me surprised before he nodded his hand.

"Alright." He sat up straight in his chair with his leg resting on his thigh.

I gave a breif smile before speaking, "Daeron has told me on his and yours visit to the brothels in fleabotton..." Aegon raise his brow before a grin cross his lips.

"And you wish to visit, sweet neice. I am flattered that you wish attend with me, I am sure I can find a man there who be happy to fuck your flower...even with your predicament. " He glance at my stomach before looking at me, I scoff in disgust.

"That's not--"

"I always knew you were a cuck, brother." Aegon spoke over me to look over my shoulder at his brother, "He used always peek inside to watch me, the little freak." He chortle before looking back at me.

My brows twitch making my mind wonder for a moment before I shook my head, "What happened at the brothel?" I said cutting to the chase, aegon grabs his cup before stopping it near his lips.

"What do you mean? It sorta obvious what we did there." He says, I furrow my brows as aegon drink from his cup.

"What did Daeron do there?" I asked wanting to clarify on what daeron was doing.

Aegon look at me before looking at his brother who move to stand next to me.

"Is the pregnancy getting to her brain already, brother. Or is this what you been complaining about to mother about." He said making me clench my jaw.

"I have no idea what your talking about, jaenara let's go so we can leave my brother to drown in his cup in peace." Aemond turns to me touching my arm but I ignore him as my patience

"What don't you just come out and say it," I snap crossing my arms over my chest, aegon narrow his eyes at me as if trying to figure me out.

"Why do you care?" He asked.

"Because something happened and I want to know what it was." I shouted.

Aegon gave a eyeroll before draining his cup before slamming it down on the table, "It simple, neice. I took Daeron there to make him a man, and last I remember he left satisfied." I eye him.

"I beg the differ." Aegon scoff before looking away from me.

"You know brother I use to envy the fact that you got our sweet neice while I got stuck with helaena," Aegon sneer, "But, now I see that the gods where on my side by sparing me eternity with her."

"Well, your not a gift from the gods either Aegon," I snark back making him snap his eyes at me with a glare, "All you ever done is drink and fuck your way through life‐‐"

"And I will die a happy man because of it, neice." He grins.

"Yes, a happy and deserted man surrounded by nothing but whores who wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire." Aegon smile falter to angry frown.

"Maybe, but atleast I can count on a whore to shut her mouth and take my cock."

"Is that why you like them more, uncle? Because unlike the ladies in court or the servants here, they would rather slit their throats than be touch by a foul thing like you." Aegon grits his teeth.

"You little wh--"

"Alright, that's enough." Aemond shouted as he move to stand between me and aegon, he turn to me with a look, "Jaenara, we're leaving. Whatever this is doesn't concern us--" I snap my gaze to ae.ond.

"If not us than who then." I snapped angrily, aemond looks mildly taken back, "Are we really going to ignore that he took a child to a brothel, and allow him to have his virtue taken from him without a second thought." Aemond was silent at my words.

Aegon let out a snicker making me look at him, "Virtue? Is that what he got that from...you?" Aegon let out another snicker making me grow angry, "All that talking about waiting until marriage all came from you, gods I would have thought your marriage with my brother would have taught you something, stupid girl." He smirk making me rise my chin with a stern look.

"I learn a lot from my marriage, including how to rise above insufferable people." I spat, "That what makes me better than you and your mother, and that is also why daeron will always be better than you too." Aegon's expression was cold and hard.

I turn my back to him feeling proud to make him feel as low as he should, aegon was nothing but a arrogant and spoiled, no thanks to his mother and grandfather.

"That fucking prat is not better than me, his a craven who couldn't stop crying throughout the whole thing like a baby." He snapped angrily, "And then ran off sobbing like a little girl who got her favorite gown ruined, I am way better than that whimpering little shit." Aegon spit out making me turn to him, he was standing with his hands in fists and his wife twisted.

"He was crying?" I whispered.

Aegon looked just as equally taken back by his words than me, he stuttered for a second before getting the words out.

"...w-whimpering, he was whimpering--"

"And you didn't think to stop them." Aegon wore a look before shaking his head as a scowl return to his features.

"There was nothing to stop he was moaning...he was enjoying himself." Aegon sounded almost like he was defendeding himself, I couldn't help but look at him a certain way making him take notice and snap, "I dont have to explain myself to you, if daeron wanted to stop he would have. But, he didn't. He liked it--"

"How can you be so sure." I blurted, "You said he was crying and that he ran out, did you go look for him to see if he was okay?" Aegon stay silent, "Did you really think he was enjoying himself--"

"Aemond did the same thing, and he came back the next day and got his cock sucked." Aegon said exasperated, I look at him in disbelief.

"Did daeron come back the next day, aegon?" Aegon was silent once again, a feeling in my stomach made me feel sick making me place my hand on top, I couldn't help but glance down at my belly and wonder what I would do if that happened to my baby boy, my flesh and blood.

"It was nothing...he was exaggerating." Aegon finally utter, I look at him with a disgusted look.

"If it was helaena in his place would you think she was exaggerating," Aemond and Aegon looked at me with a mixture of emotions that she could only describe as anger and fear, "What about your little boy, jaehaerys, would you think it was nothing if daeron dragged him into one of those places and ignore his cries. Would that be nothing, uncle." Aegon turn his head with conflicted look, I blink trying to get rid of the hot tears, "No child should to have to go through that, and no parent shouldn't have to watch their little boy have the light snuff right out of them." Aegon bowed his head as his lip twit into a snarl.

"Get out of my room." He demanded not looking up.

I turn on my heels without a word or fight, I left the room leaving aegon and aemond in the uncomfortable silence. It wasn't long before awmond catch up with me, he grab my elbow stopping me in the hall, I face him bit didn't look at his face but rather his collar.

"Are you okay?" He asked, I furrow my brows before straighten them to look up at aemond.

"I'm not the one you should be asking that to." I replied with a dry tone, aemond nod looking embarrassed and went quiet.

I look down as his hands slide down my arm to grab my hands after a moment of silence between us, he let out a deep sigh, "What do you want me to do?" He asked as if wanting to know what his next order was from me, I look back up at him with a confuse and unsure look.

A devious thought crossed my mind, I was hesitant for a second contemplating if I should say it out loud or not. But, the words aegon said not too long ago played in my head like a taunt, and my anger once again flared.

"I would like you to found out what brothel aegon took daeron, and set fire to it with those whores inside." The words came out steady and clear, my words didn't mush together or come out shaky. It was clear what I wanted, aemond pulled me close so he could rest his chin on top my of head as he hold me.

"I'll do." He whispered, "I'll do anything for you, anything."

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chiaracognigniart · 4 months

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Six Fanarts challenge, round 3:

🐉Rhaegar Targaryen🐉

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linaartsblogsworld · 3 months

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Helaena Targaryen and for #TeamGreenweek on Twitter

#helaena targaryen #artists on tumblr #artwork #digital artist #house targaryen #team green #my art #art #house of the dragon #asoiaf #advertising #asoif fanfic #succession #daena targaryen #hotd helaena

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crownedtargaryen · 1 year

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cruel summer. - modern!jacaerys

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4 pairing: modern!jacaerys x modern!stark reader (a/n): this chapter includes semi-one sided love and sexual relations. while I was writing this i was feeling incredibly disgusted with my writing, so I apologize if it isn’t at its best. rating: NSFW 18+, this chapter has smut. proceed with caution. prns: she/her all notes are appreciated. words: 1.5k tag list: @hopelesswritergall @twizzy123 @howyouloveyourdragon @fairysluna @daenerysapologist @clairacassidy

The weekend passed faster than I had hoped. I spent my days wallowing in self-pity and isolating myself from family and friends, praying to cope with the trauma I'd faced the night prior.

The night before school started back up, a soft knock came on my door. I murmured weakly, the door opening slowly.

"Little wolf," I hear my brother Cregan's familiar voice. I peer from under my sheets, looking at the scruffy brunette. My eyes trail him, comforted by his company, but then I see my brother, Robb, enter shortly thereafter. I miss them dearly. They were always protecting me from harm. It was obvious they were unaware of Aegon's actions at the party, only seeing the video and the circulating rumors on social media. I ignored my socials at this time, not wishing to occupy myself with things that would worsen my mental state. "We brought food… Just know we're here if you need to talk, okay?" Cregan says softly, making me smile at him.

Robb looks to me, then to Cregan, almost pleading to ask a question. The older nods to the second oldest, who moves next to my bed and gently takes my hands into his, looking into my eyes.

"Jacaerys didn't touch you did he?" Robb says, as I widen my eyes. "I'll rip the kid to shreds if he did. I swear it." His tone is cold and dominating, making me shiver and shake my head no. Robb relaxes at the confirmation, and Cregan as well.

"No, Jace helped me get out of the situation. Aegon, the Targaryen party animal, tried to… Tried to ravish me," I feel tears dance in my eyes, Robb's relaxation morphing into anger and frustration, Cregan standing stiff and clenching the plate with a death grip behind him. I hiccup, covering my face in humiliation. It's a few moments before muscular arms wrap around me from either side, a large hand on my back and rubbing in a soothing motion. A weak hiccup erupts from my hands as I peek out. Robb is on my left, his arm around my waist and kissing my head comfortingly. To my right, Cregan holds my upper body and rubs over my back, softly shushing me. At this moment, I feel grateful and safe. Cregan speaks up. "He won't see the light of day tomorrow, I promise that much. No one messes with you and gets away with it," he whispers, kissing my temple and humming a soothing tune. I couldn't help but smile, relaxed knowing my siblings loved me so much.

The next morning, I grumble and lazily tumble out of bed, dressing and applying the bare minimum of effort to my look. Half asleep, I grab my phone and bag, hearing my device ding with a text notification. I open it, eyes narrowing as I try to rub sleep away. Was I hallucinating? Jacaerys texted me.

Jacaerys 😐

Hey, try not to forget my jersey. I need it for practice today.

Disappointment floods me as I skim the words, rereading the message in hopes they will change into something different. Something sincere. I leave him on read, grab the jersey, and storm to my vehicle. I get inside and throw the top into the backseat carelessly, forgetting about it as I travel to the hell we call Iron High.

Upon my arrival, I hurried to my first-period language class, trying to ignore those who stare or murmur at me. My stomach churns, overhearing words such as whore, slut, or foul insults and jabs at my looks. I feel like I could throw up from the pressure inside me. I storm into the classroom and lock eyes with Jacaerys who is sitting in his assigned seat, incredibly early. Fuck. He's right next to me, and it makes me feel even worse.

I ignore him, sitting down and taking out my textbook, feeling his eyes scanning me expectantly. I turn to him, my brows furrowed. "What?" I snap, seeing the surprise on his face before he speaks up. "Did you bring my jersey?" Jace asks softly, anger boiling inside me. All I do is nod, looking away from him. It's silent for a brief moment before he speaks again. "So? Can I have it?"

"It's in my car. We can get it at lunch," I snap, avoiding looking at him. He says nothing else the entire class period, not even when we leave. He walks off to his next period as if I'm not even on his radar. I know he's staring at me, but he's too afraid to speak up.

I go to my car once lunch comes around, seeing Jacaerys waiting anxiously in my vehicle. The smile on his face when he sees me makes my heart flutter despite myself. I nod to him, trying to hide these feelings, and open my car door, bending over and grabbing his jersey from the floorboard. I slip out, straightening myself and turning around. I'm shocked to be face to face with Jace, who looks at me softly.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, twinging my heart in desperation. "I've been trying to get you out of my head, to give you space… You've plagued all my senses, I can't stop thinking about you. I-" he inhales sharply, and I notice he's looking at my lips. "I regret not taking you as mine when I had the chance."

That's all he had to say. In a moment his lips are on mine, my arms circling his shoulders and behind his neck, tangled in those messy brown locks of his. He presses close, groaning almost anomalistically into my lips, his hands on the small of my back. We move backward into my car, Jace on top of me as his hands trail up my shirt, but he stops himself.

"Can I?" He asks softly, looking at my shirt. I consent softly as he slams the car door shut, taking my keys from my hand and turning on the vehicle and its AC. He slips his hands under my shirt. He moves back in, lips clashing against mine as he grinds his clothed cock against my mound, making me whimper in delight into his mouth. His large hands slip my shirt over my head, throwing the clothing onto the floor and his eyes widen at my lack of a bra.

"Gods you're beautiful," he whispers in a breathless voice, feeling him twitch in his pants. I chuckle softly, moving his shirt off of him as he tugs my pants off swiftly with my underwear, admiring my bare form in awe. I move in to kiss him, but he stops me. "No." He says sternly, making my heart drop for a moment. He grabs his jersey that I had forgotten about, slipping it over my head and biting his lip at the sight. "I'm gonna fuck you senseless." He whispers, moving in and kissing down my neck, leaving messy bites as he clumsily takes off his pants and boxers, his stiff member taunting me with its size. When I moan his name, it twitches enthusiastically, dripping from the tip. I tilt my head back, feeling his long and thick fingers prod my hole before pushing inside, his palm rubbing my bud as I tremble in delight, his pace relentless and exciting. I hadn't felt pleasure in months, so I was hypersensitive and ready to make a mess of myself. "Good girl. Such a sweet little pup for me." He whispers, nipping my earlobe and his fingers caressing a sweet spongey spot inside me that makes me positively squeal, thighs trembling as I cry out his name in pleasure. His breath is hot against my neck, his free hand stroking himself at the same rate he pounds me with his hand. I notice this stopping him at my edge.

"Fuck me," I demand, my eyes now lidded and lustful. I watch his eyes widen, questioningly. "I'm on the pill, Jace. Please. Don't make me beg." I pant out, watching as he quickly nods and pulls his fingers out, teasing my entrance with the tip of his shaft. This makes me whine and push forward, forcing his whole length inside. He lets out the most pitiful whimper I've ever heard from a man, gripping my body and clawing at my back. I pet his hair, panting and whispering for him to move. He nods quickly, pushing in and out slowly, then picking it up. I look up at him, sweat dripping down his toned and muscled arms, his gaze lustful and admiring my face, not even paying attention to my body. His hand trails down to my bud, circling it as he pounds me senseless as I close my eyes, screaming his name for everyone to hear, his moans sending me over the edge as he grunts my name into my neck and bites down like an animal. I'm blinded by a wave of white, pulling him in as he buries deep inside me, bursting into my cunt with soft pants and weak groans. He can't say anything, just embracing me and panting against my skin.

Well, today didn't turn out as I thought it would.

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toxxicwrites · 28 days

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The Rogue Princess- Full Chapter- Part 1- HOTD- oc x aemond targaryen

It should be my husband at my side. Rhea thought. But the rogue prince daemon did not participate in his marital duties besides their night of consummation, which caused her even more pain as she tried to push out the stubborn bronze-dragon child.

A maid smiled, holding the bundled figure, “It’s a girl, m’lady.”

A girl. Rhea let a smile grace her face, and despite her exhaustion, she held out her arms.

“Bring her to me.”

The screaming infant girl was placed in her mother's arms and quieted at her touch. Rhea looked down at the babe, noting the white whisps of hair on her head. She frowned until the babe opened its eyes, revealing the same warm brown that her own eyes held. A girl with her brown eyes. A girl was no heir; therefore, Daemon wouldn't want her, and the babe would be all hers. Her smile deepened at the thought.

“I will name her Visenya,” She declared. This girl would be a warrior, just like her namesake, and Rhea couldn’t help but be filled with pride in her creation.

“I will inform the prince, m’lady.”

Rhea chuckled, “Don’t bother. He won’t care unless it's a boy.”

The maids bristled, but Rhea didn’t care.

“Visenya,” She repeated, staring into the warm brown eyes of her daughter,” the daughter of runestone.”

Growing up in the Vale was peaceful. Away from the bloody politics of kingslanding, it provided a secret paradise for the young daughter of Runestone—Visenya Targaryen. At the moment, she played under the blue sky with other children of the palace, mainly the children of the maids, as she found the noble kids to be infuriating with their constant complaints and upturned noses when she suggested they play fight, which was just what she was doing now. Visenya, now a small girl of eight, held a stick in her hand, standing atop a small rock with her white locks flowing freely in the wind.

“I am Aegon the conqueror,” she declared to the two commoner boys who watched her. “And you will surrender or feel the wrath of my dragons!”

One boy laughed, his freckles moving as he did, and cried out, “Never! Castle Harrenhall is impenetrable!”

The boys held up their matching sticks, and Visenya jumped off the rock, roaring as she did.

“Tis no match for my dragon!” She dropped the stick and mimicked the roars of a dragon as she chased the giggling boys around the grassy hills.

“Mother?” The girl asked.

“Yes, dear?”

The girl paused, now unsure of her question.

“Will my father return soon?”

Rhea’s fingers paused.

“I do not know my sweet,” She sighed. Visenya turned around to face her mother.

“He’s fighting the triarchy at the stepstones now, right?

“Yes… he is.”

“Is- is my father a warrior? Like Visenya?”

The small Visenya frowned slightly as her mother kissed her head. One thought ringing through her head. My father is not a true warrior.

“Now, would you like a story before bed?”

The girl smiled, worries dispersed.

“Yes, please. Can you tell me a story of Visenya?”

“Of course, my sweet.”

“Mother!” the girl cried out, latching her arms around her waist with an iron grip. She began to cry, now within the warmth of her mother after what had felt like so long.

“Shh, I know, my sweet, I know.”

“They-” the girl choked out between sobs, “they said you wouldn’t make it.”

“But I am here now, my sweet. I am here now.”

An hour later, she was dead.

Runestone was dark and gloomy that morning as a storm brewed in the clouds on Rhea Royce’s funeral day. Inside the castle, a small procession was held. Close family, friendly lords, and ladies attended, all adorned in black, watching the small girl beside the pyre with pity. Visenya didn’t cry. She stared blankly at the stone painted with eyes that covered her mother's warm brown ones. Her own eyes were red and puffy. All her tears had dried out the day before as the servants had to drag her away from her mother's body when she had suddenly fallen limp as they walked through the halls. Her screams had echoed through the halls that day. Now, she stared from underneath her black veil, unable to tear her eyes away. As a white-haired figure arrived, the quiet progression was suddenly filled with whispers and gasps. The rogue prince, Daemon Targaryen, observed the surroundings, unfettered by the whispers and stares that followed as he stood next to Visenya. She finally looked up from the painted eyes at the man beside her. Her breath stilled as he looked down at her, giving a slight nod. Her stomach clenched.

“Visenya,” he acknowledged with a slight nod. She didn’t respond, her grief all too consuming to even register the flames of rage that licked deep inside her. When the whispers died down, her mother's cousin, Gerold Royce, spoke a few words during the funeral, but Visenya didn’t hear them now, staring at the man who had fathered her. A false warrior- a murderer, the whispers said. She watched the rogue prince as he made his way to her mother's body, placing a candle beside it as the others had done when the speech was over. She went after him, placing the glowing candle down. She reached out to touch her mother's hair one last time. The pangs of grief made it hard to breathe, and she thought she would drown in it all. Everything had changed. She looked over to the rogue prince, his countenance one of boredom. Everything had changed because of him. The day she made a vow to her mother. She would avenge her, the mother who stayed with her through nights filled with terrors, cleaned her wounds, brushed her hair, and told her stories of faraway places and times. She would avenge her - no matter the cost.

“I do not wish to go with him.”

The maid sighed, pity filling her at the young girl's state before her, her small lip quivering and brow furrowed as she looked up to her pleading with warm brown eyes.

“I know, but he is your father, so you must.”

“He is not my father,” Visenya whispered, looking down at her hands instead of the pity-filled eyes.

“Visenya…”

“No!” She yelled out, rage and grief lashing out, shocking the maid as she took a step back.

“He is not my father! He is a monster—everyone knows it.” The young girl sobbed as she ran past the maid outside of her chambers. She had to escape from all of them. The maid called after her, but she continued running, tears streaming down her face. She ran through the now colorless halls until she reached the stables, where her mother’s horse stood. She raised her hand to the dark brown steed, neighing softly as it nudged against her hand.

“I know,” she whispered softly, resting her forehead on the steeds. “I miss her too.” The sound of her name urged Visenya into action. Struggling, Visenya managed to climb her way atop the horse. The Runestone castle was in chaos. Guards searched the premises, finding no sign of their lady’s daughter, much to the anger of Daemon.

Inside his chambers, the rogue prince paced back and forth as a guard kneeled before him, flinching with each sharp movement he made.

“Where is she?” Daemon spat, glaring at the shaking guard.

“My lord, we are looking for her at the moment. She could not have gone far-”

“She is just a little girl! How incompetent are the vale guards?” The guard stumbled for a response but was interrupted by another man frantic as he spoke.

“The late lady’s horse is gone, my lord.”

Daemon’s expression darkened, and the guard's faces fell. Then he laughed.

“It seems the girl takes after her father.”

The guards exchanged an uneasy glance.

“Go.” he said, waving his hand, “I will find the girl.”

The sun had set about an hour ago. The evening sky set upon a dark blue mist in the Vale, illuminating the high mountains and the small figure and horse that sat by the glistening water, rushing by in a small river. Visenya sat by the water, observing the scenery, rolling grassy hills that merged with the rocky mountains, touching the clouds. The soft hum of insects on the riverside and the scent of wet soil permeated through the air. She thought it would be her last smell of fresh air before Daemon dragged her to Kingslanding, where the smell of peasants, sewage, and rotting seaweed would fill her senses instead. Resting her head on her knee, she looked out and thought of her mother, whom she would never see again. And all her remaining family, Gerold, a man like a father to her, and the serving boys she would play with. The castle which was supposed to be hers would never be. The castle she walked through with her mother, hand in hand as she promised her it would all one day be hers, grassy plains, rocky mountains and all. A paradise she had been ripped from too soon.

The sound of flapping drew her attention upward. Visenya quickly wiped a tear she hadn’t even noticed as it dripped down her cheek. A dragon. Black, scaled, and large enough to trump her wildest imagination, she couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. Her stomach twisted when she realized what it meant. With a roar that shook her bones, the dragon swooped down a few yards away, revealing its rider- her estranged father. Her mother's horse neighed loudly, backing up and running into a trot.

His expression was neutral, and Visenya felt the same white-hot rage bubble inside her. Visenya’s eyes burned as he dismounted. He walked toward her, and she didn’t move. When he reached her, Visenya finally spoke.

“Why?”

Daemon’s brow raised, “Why what?”

“Why do you want me now?”

He paused for a moment, “Because you are a dragon.”

Visenya looked up at the man, finding sincerity in his eyes. She would have to be strong. The young girl thought like her mother had taught her. She closed her eyes, imagining her mother’s limp, bleeding body. She then imagined rendering the rogue prince to the street. Bleeding and dying at her own hands. I will avenge you, Mother.

“Now,” he began slowly, “Would you like to ride a dragon little one?” He held out his hand, and she took it. Her fate now sealed in a bloody tale of revenge.

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