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myocsfanfictions · 1 month

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THE WRATH OF FIRE

House of the Dragon Fanfiction

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair were dark, but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen and her wrath was not different from the one that burn inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

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CHAPTER 2

Ysilla had been right. Her dragon had survived for the first weeks of his life, and it kept getting bigger. No one believed it, but he did, and the girl spent the majority of her time with her dragon.

Since it survived, her lady mother had agreed to make the Maester write to King's Landing so that the keeper of the Dragonpits could take a look at the dragon.

Soon, Ysilla found herself on a ship, cradling her dragon in her arms, heading to the Capital.

She had been when she was only two, or at least that was what her mother had told her. She had to go because her uncle wanted to meet her. But Ysilla had little memory of that. At that time, her aunt Aemma was still alive and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. But only some months after her visit, she had died, giving birth to her son.

Her aunt came from the Vale as well, and Ysilla would have liked to remember her. But she really couldn't.

"You'll be taken care of," she whispered to her dragon, caressing his head. He seemed to like her touch, which made her giggle. "You are a strong one," she said proudly as his tail circled her wrist and moved his black wings.

Ysilla arrived at King's Landing by ship in five days. When she could see the shape of the city, the girl ran to the front.

King's Landing was huge, and she could already see the Red Keep and the Septon of Baelon. It looked so different from Runestone. Her castle was set on the tall mountains, and it was smaller than the Red Keep.

When her ship arrived at the dooks, her eyes noticed a knight wearing the white cloaks of the Kingsguard. He was a young man, olive-skinned and dark-haired. For some reason, his features made her blush. Her mother didn't let her hear songs much; Royces were strong warriors, and in a hard land like her own, there was no time for stories. But the few that Ysilla had heard talked about beautiful knights, such as the one that was waiting for her at the docks.

"Princess Ysilla," the knight greeted her with a bow of his head, which she reciprocated, holding her dragon in her arms.

"Good day, Ser," she answered politely, feeling a faint blush creep upon her cheeks at the realization she had no clue what the knight's name might be.

"Ser Criston Cole, my princess," he said gently, "I'll be escorting you to the castle. The King is waiting for you." He gestured towards a big carriage. The girl blinked her purple eyes in amazement. She never used those in Runestone; her mother taught her how to ride as soon as Ysilla could. Even her ride to the port had been made on the back of her pony.

Ysilla nodded silently, ready to follow the knight, but she didn't miss the way Ser Criston's eyes lingered upon her dragon.

"He is good," she said, suddenly afraid that they didn't want her dragon to enter the carriage. "He always obeys me, I swear," she assured him.

Since her dragon was born, Ysilla has never separated from him. He has become a dear friend to her, and he was always with her.

"Do not fear, princess," he smiled down at her, "Shall we go?"

Sadly, the carriage had no windows. Ysilla would have liked to watch the busy streets of the city, but she could only hear the people outside. She could not understand any words; they were just buzzing. Riding on horseback to the castle could have been more entertaining.

The dragon in her hands moved, and Ysilla looked down at it. He was still trying to find a way to move as swiftly as possible, trying to put all his strength into his front legs. Sometimes, he hurt her with his claws, accidentally scratching her skin. But Ysilla was patient with him.

"How old is he?" Ser Criston Cole asked her. She knew he had seen her dragon's missing legs, as he had noticed her dark hair streaked with silver.

"Almost two months old," she answered, biting her lower lip, feeling a bit shy. "Ser Criston," she called after some moments of silence, "Is my father here in King's Landing by any chance?"

The knight shook his head, "I'm sorry, princess. Prince Daemon is still fighting on the Stepstones." She flushed with shame. She should have known, but she stupidly had hoped that maybe he would have came in King's Landing after hearing of her arrival. She had just being stupid.

"Oh, thank you." The little claw of her dragon trying to keep himself up made her look down so that their eyes would meet.

You are here, though, she thought, caressing its head.

Once they arrived at the Red Keep, Ysilla felt so small looking up at the stone that built the castle.

"Ysilla Targaryen," her presence was announced as she stepped down the carriage, helped by Ser Criston. On the steps at the entrance of the castle, Ysilla noticed a man with long silver hair wearing black and red vests. On his face, there was a short beard, and he was smiling at her. He was the King Viserys and Ysilla's uncle. Next to him a young lady, with auburn hair tied at the back of her head. Her hands were resting upon her swollen belly. She must have been the young Queen Alicent, her aunt.

"My dear niece," the King said, walking towards her with open arms.

"Your Grace," she knew how to talk to the King; her Maester had thought of her well.

"You've grown so much, my dear," he said, gently smiling at her. At that, Ysilla felt like blushing. She knew how she was supposed to talk to the King, but not so much to her uncle, so she decided only to smile.

"You must be tired," the sweet voice of the Queen got her attention to see her stopping next to her husband, "And hungry."

"You are very kind, my Queen," she spoke shyly, "But I'd like to ask you to make sure my dragon is healthy."

Both the King and the Queen looked at the little beast in her arms. And Ysilla noticed their eyes linger at on the dragon, searching for the hind legs.

"It is-"

"Strong," she spoke, interrupting her uncle, blushing, "But we do not have Dragonpit in Runestone."

"Then we should bring him to the Dragonpit," another voice said from behind the King. She was a pretty girl with long silver hair and a smile, dressed in a soft yellow gown. Ysilla knew who she was: Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the heir to the Iron Throne.

"You want to think about it, Rhaenyra?" Ysilla's uncle asked. The girl noticed the princess making a strange face when her father spoke as if she didn't want him to share words with her. But when Rhaenyra's eyes went back to Ysilla, she smiled again.

"Of course," she said, gesturing towards the carriage.

"He is so pretty," Rhaenyra told her once the carriage moved again to bring them to the Dragonpit. Then she frowned as she got closer, taking a better look at the hatchling. Ysilla brought him closer to her.

"Thank you, princess," Ysilla answered, waiting for a comment from her cousin. She knew she would; everyone did. Ysilla's mother was not even sure that he would have survived.

"How's he called?" The question surprised her. She was ready to answer any question about her dragon, but not that. Ysilla blushed.

"I still have not named him," she admitted, ashamed.

"And why is that?" Asked Rhaenyra curiously.

"No name fits," the girl answered, caressing the head of her dragon.

Rhaenyra smiled. "It will come," she assured her, "Give it time."

Ysilla looked up, her lips curling up, appreciating her cousin's words. When she did so, she noticed the neckless of smoke-grey steel with a deep red ruby in its center. It was shining brightly, even if there was not so much light inside the carriage.

"You like it?" Rhaenyra asked, touching the necklace with her fingers. Ysilla nodded shyly.

"It's Valyrian steel," her cousin said, and Ysilla's eyes grew large.

"Like Lamentation!" She exclaimed, remembering the Valyrian Steel sword that House Royce possessed.

"And Blackfyre, or Dark Sister," Rhaenyra said, talking about the swords that one Aegon the Conquerer and his sister-wife Vysenia possessed.

"Father wields Dark Sister!" She knew all about those matters. Ysilla loved Valyrian Steel. Rhaenyra chuckled, nodding her head.

"Exactly!" She exclaimed before touching the neckless once again, "This was his gift."

Those words confused Ysilla. Her father had given that necklace to Rhaenyra? Why? Perhaps for her name-day, no doubt. If not, why? But did her father usually give gifts on name-days? Ysilla never received anything from him, nor did she know. Or maybe he did!

He must have if he had given something to Rhaenyra, Ysilla though. Her mother probably never gave her presents because she was still a little girl of five—too young for such jewelry.

It must be it, she thought, looking down at her dragon when he moved in her hands.

The Dragonpit was huge. Set atop one of the hills of King's Landing. The Hills of Rhaenys, Rhaenyra called it. The main door of bronze and iron was so tall that Ysilla felt her neck ache when she tried to look up. The Dragonpit was the home of the royal dragons of House Targaryen. Ysilla looked at her dragon as they walked inside, wondering if he would have liked to stay with the other dragons more. Maybe, that was the right place for him.

The Maesters of the Dragonpit were like nothing Ysilla had ever seen. They spoke a strange language that she had never heard before.

"Do you know High Valyrian?" Rhaenyra asked from next to her. High Valyrian was the language that was spoken by the people of Valyria. But Ysilla did not know it. No one in the household was Targaryen. And her mother wanted to raise her proud and strong like the people of the Vale and Ysilla wanted to be. But a part of her wanted to be Targaryen. She was a Targaryen, and she felt ashamed when she shook her head, admitting that she did not know High Valyrian. Rhaenyra observed her for a moment before starting to talk with the Dragonpit Maester. The man spoke to Ysilla, who only frowned, but then Rhaenyra touched her shoulder with a gentle smile.

"He'd like to see the dragon," Ysilla held it a little more, knowing that she had to let him go. The man was waiting, but she could only focus on the dragon moving in her hands.

"It's going to be alright," she assured, looking at the purple eyes of the hatchling. You are a good dragon," she said before moving her arms so that the man could take him. He squirmed, complaining as Ysilla took a step back.

The man put the dragon on a stone table. The little beast had some difficulty staying still due to the lack of its hind legs. But Ysilla observed him proudly as he found his balance using his wings, his long black and purple neck standing eloquently as he got more confident.

The man started to talk, and Ysilla turned to Rhaenyra, who was waiting for her to translate.

"He is deformed," Rhaenyra said, "The hind legs had not developed. He should have been dead by now," Ysilla's heart beat fast, full of worry, "And yet he is strong." Rhaenyra added, "Strong muscles, strong wings. It is unlikely that he will perish." Ysilla felt tears in her eyes, "He is growing good for his age. He says it is a miracle."

"So he will be fine!" Ysilla exclaimed happily. Rhaenyra nodded her head with a happy smile. Then the man talked again, and Ysilla waited patiently for her cousin to translate.

"He needs to be watched over," she said, "If he survives the furst year of age, he will be fine."

Ysilla was so glad to hear, and after asking the permission to go to her dragon, she happily caressed his head.

"You are going to be fine," she assured him, "And we are always going to be together."

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thedeathofduty · 1 year

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Talisman

Summary: King Viserys I dies, sending the royal family and your own life into disarray. When Aemond is sent on his way to Storm's End and your betrothal is called off, the Queen promises to do right by you as soon as she is able. That night, your fears, memories, and insecurities get the better of you.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x UnspecifiedHouse!F!Reader

Warning(s): Very, very brief mention of sex

A/N: Thank god that more talented people than I have already gifed every second we've gotten of Aemond otherwise I would've had to put a super pixelated screenshot down there instead. How do you guys make these? Here's part two!

Queen Alicent had insisted on speaking to you alone, without even your father or the Lord Hand as witnesses, which set your already frayed nerves to what felt like their very breaking point. Your hands were clasped tightly together in your lap and still, you could not stop their trembling. The two of you were sitting in her chambers and her handmaiden was pouring the two of you some tea before quietly leaving the room. You had known, of course, that something was wrong. Just a mere hour ago, your father had been all but dragged from his study and corralled into the throne room with all the rest of the High Lords and Ladies. No matter how desperately you cried out, none of the knights of the Kingsguard would tell you where they were taking him or what was happening.

And now here you were, sitting across from the Queen who regarded you with kind, sad eyes. She had never looked at you like this before. "Lady Y/N," she started before clearing her throat and glancing down at the small cup in front of you, "please, before we begin. It will help with your nerves." You nodded quickly, grasping the cup in your hand and hissing when some of the tea spilled on your fingers as you brought it up to your lips. "I tell you this now with the utmost confidence in your ability to be understanding... and patient." You looked at her over the rim of your cup. She pressed her lips together, refusing to meet your gaze for a moment before closing her eyes and sighing deeply. "The King is passed."

"Wh-what?" Your cup clattered against the table as you clumsily set it down.

"Please," she murmured and you held your tongue. "He named my son Aegon as his successor and, though my father believes in the inevitability of war, I do not. I am trying my best to tread a different path, to do what needs be done without bloodshed. There is no reason why thousands should die, why the Princess and her family should suffer, why the dragons should be turned loose. Do you understand?" You opened your mouth, but she continued. "There is a better way, Lady Y/N. I can see the path towards peace so clearly now. But..." She sighed, pushing her own cup aside and reaching across the table to grab your hands. "Even peace is not without sacrifice. Have you seen Aemond today at all?"

"No, Your Grace. I tried looking for him, I was hoping he could lend me some clarity, but I could not find him." You had even gathered your skirts and run to the training grounds where Ser Criston usually was, hoping maybe he could tell you where to find your betrothed, but the area was deserted. That was where a guard had found you and brought you before the Queen. "Do you know where he is?"

"I do, yes." She sighed again, her eyebrows drawn together, looking like each word was cutting her tongue on its way out of her mouth. "Lady Y/N, you must understand. I hold you in the highest regard. I cannot think of a young woman more suited for my son. You are dutiful and kind. I know he was quite taken with you, but whether there is to be war or not, we must strengthen our house. We must forge difficult alliances to persuade the Princess Rhaenyra to accept this new order. Gods, do I wish it could be different. Would that I or any of my children had been married for love and not politics." Your breath hitched.

Your betrothal to Aemond had been announced only a few short months ago, but he had caught your attention the moment you entered King's Landing a year ago. You remembered everything your Lady Mother had told you back when she was alive about how making a man fall in love with you was almost like casting a spell. 'You have to bewitch him, be the very air he breathes,' she'd told you one night shortly after you'd bled your first moon. Back then you were unsure of what she had meant, but you accepted the bottle of lavender oil and rose petals she had given you then. Years later when you would sit and pretend to read at the edge of the training grounds under the trees there, you still wore it on your neck. It made you feel womanly and powerful and more confident than you really were. Eventually, he noticed you, too.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you looked out the window, wishing a stiff breeze would pick you up and carry you home. Surely, she couldn't possibly mean...

"Aemond is to be betrothed to one of Borros Baratheon's girls." There it was. You tried to tug your hands away, but she only held them tighter and stroked the back of them with her thumbs. "But I swear to you, Lady Y/N, that you will not be cast aside. I know of the affection you both had for each other and I am sorry that it must be this way, but I promise that as soon as the Princess accepts our peace terms, I will personally secure a betrothal befitting a woman of your station and quality. I swear this to you." She squeezed your hands again and you swallowed the burning lump of coal in your throat. When the two of you locked eyes, you weren't ready to see that they were just as tearful as yours felt.

"What will happen to me?" Your voice trembled and broke at the edges, your mind racing with images of yourself next to or beneath some old, perverted Lord. You thought you would be one of the lucky girls. How stupid you felt. Fresh tears sprang into your eyes as one finally fell.

"Nothing, my dear girl. You and your father will both be safe and well taken care of here." The Queen reached up and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, her eyes mirroring your own.

None of the people at court were even allowed to go to the Coronation. It was a pageant reserved only for the smallfolk, to make sure that they saw Aegon as their one, true King. You cared not for any of that nonsense, the politicking of it all, the "stinking, bloody outrage of it all", as your father had shouted at supper that night, slamming his fist on the table and forcing both your cups to spill. For once, you said nothing about his outburst, focusing instead on moving your food around on your plate until it was too cold to eat anymore.

"Queen Alicent told me she would find me another match."

"Another match," he scoffed, shaking his head, "What could be a better match than the Prince?"

What indeed.

You excused yourself early, leaving your father to puff and fume as uselessly as he wanted. He may complain within the confines of your four walls, but you knew he would never push for you and you could forgive him for that. He would never raise a hand to you and he loved you enough most days. On some of those days, you even felt sorry for him. He was all alone in the world, with only you for comfort and you were destined to leave him behind to start a family of your own someday.

As you lie in your bed that night, your eyes glued to the ceiling, you tried to quiet the drumming of your heart enough to find some semblance of rest. You had seen Aemond only last night and though you knew thinking of him was the last thing that would help calm you, you could do nothing to stop yourself. The apartments you shared with your father overlooked the gardens, a step up the ladder that Aemond had facilitated for you out of a desire to see you elevated to the status he'd said you deserved. Were you to lose even this now that you had lost him, too?

Aemond had arrived in a foul mood after the dinner with his family. Though it went against the rules of propriety, you knew your father was willing to bend or even break those rules for you, as he made clear when he allowed you to take Aemond's arm and lead him into your chambers. It had nothing to do with trust or faith and everything to do with status. Maybe some part of him even hoped the Prince had already deflowered you and you were with child so the Hightowers would have no choice but to go forward with the wedding. As you gently closed the door behind you, you felt... lucky, more than anything.

'What troubles you, My Prince?' You almost never called Aemond that anymore, except maybe in jest, but you had not seen him this cross in a while. He stood in front of your small fireplace with his back to you, his arms crossed over his chest and his head bowed. Every line in his body was taut as a bowstring and while you ached to reach out and smooth a comforting hand over his back, fear stayed your hand.

When he turned to you, there was a faint smile on his lips and he beckoned you over with a welcoming hand. 'I am not so troubled that you have to resort to naming me with titles, my love.' You sighed gratefully and leaned into him as his arm curled around you. The two of you stood there for a few moments and you finally rubbed your hand on his back like you had ached to just moments before. 'You see it, do you not? My nephews.'

You hummed, your mouth twisting in discomfort. 'Yes, they are...' You struggled to find the right way to phrase it. Imposters? Proof of the Princess Rhaenyra's indiscretions? Not of Velaryon blood? All true.

'Bastards.' He stepped away from you then, clenching his hands into fists. 'Unfit to rule over even a patch of rock in the Isle of Faces and yet one is to be King someday and the other Lord of the Tides.' One hand brushed against his eyepatch, his face souring. 'It is an absurdity. And I alone am regarded as the problem, for-for speaking the truth others so spinelessly ignore!'

'You know why, Aemond. Your father,' you paused and snorted, 'is hardly your father.'

'Even my mother stood against me tonight.' When he looked at you, you could see the sorrow in his shining blue eye and you could not stop yourself, you brought your hands up to caress his face, your fingers tracing his scar. You leaned up on your toes and drank his sadness from his lips as he gripped your waist so tightly, you thought he meant to breathe your soul in like it was a plume of smoke and vapor. 'Are you with me, my little talisman?' he'd asked as soon as he gave you a hair's breadth of space to answer him.

It almost hurt that he asked. Did he not know? But you understood how he liked to hear you swear your allegiance over and over again. 'I am with you, my love.'

To think that was only one night ago and now here you were, alone in your room with nothing but memories and your heart flying away to be claimed by some girl for the sake of a war that you had no personal stake in. Never had you thought you would be so lucky as to be allowed to marry for love, but for a moment it seemed that the Mother had smiled upon you with all her mercy and warmth, as your own mother no longer could, only for everything to be cruelly ripped away from you without even so much as a goodbye or an apology from the man who was to be your husband. You knew he loved you even if he never said those exact words aloud. It shined out of every inch of him like starlight. You had never needed to hear it until now.

Would he find the Baratheon girl he was to be promised to quite beautiful? Would she "bewitch" him too? Would she become his new talisman, the one thing he swore by for every scrap of fortune in his life? He used to tell you the gods had been kind enough to leave him with one eye so he could look at you. Would he tell her that?

You stomach turned as you imagine him and some other girl... together, in the way you had been craving from him for so long. You had never wanted anyone in such a way, had never even touched yourself until you met him. It was like he had lit a fire inside you and he was the only one who was meant to put it out. The gods are cruel.

You flipped over onto your stomach, listening to the wind blowing through the gardens outside your window. Though you longed for him, for his comforting words and loving embrace, even for his body in bed beside you, for once, just once, you also hoped that you would never have to see him again. The thought of seeing him like that, with a pretty little wife hanging off his arm, sent a wave of tears to your eyes. You were alone now. There was no need to hide from anyone and, even if your father was awake, he had never interrupted you when you were despondent like this before, not even after your mother's death. With the hope of lightening your heart's heavy burden, you unclenched and allowed yourself to sob into your pillow.

#mine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #aemond fic #this was actually supposed to be way longer but #i haven't written anything in a long time and i'm scared that if i try to bite off more than i can chew #we will all end up with nothing so here you go #bone apple teeth

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artzysyam · 7 months

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Frigid Nightmare

Snippets from @xysidhequeen AU. Based on the question about Jason comforted Danny after a nightmare...

Jason slumped back against the wall, his chest heaving as he drained a bottle of water mixed with ectoplasm. His training with Fright Knight was over, and it had been a year and a half since he came out from the grave, six months since he was knighted as Red Knight, four months since he discovered that Batman had replaced him, with mere seven months after his death.

The pain welled up in Jason's heart and soul - the same pain that had driven him to mow down the rebellion in another realm who dared to challenge Danny. Danny had seen him that day, standing alone amidst the demon corpses as their blood caked his human form. His eyes were raised to the sky, which burned orange from battle, and tears rolled down his cheeks unchecked.

Jason took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself not to be dragged back down into despair. The members of his newfound family tried their best to keep him in the present moment, teaching him how to allow himself to express hurt and anger without being punished for it.

Fright Knight's dark figure towered over Jason, his gaze unwavering. His deep voice rumbled through the room. "Are you well, my apprentice?"

Jason hesitated before responding, unsure of how to express what he was feeling. "I'm ... just reminiscing Frighty."

Fright Knight hummed in response and knelt down before Jason, his eyes softening with compassion. "As I said before, no one has ever been chosen as my apprentice before you, Jason Todd - King Phantom chose you, and I'll do my utmost best to ensure that you're strong enough to protect our liege."

Jason was warmed by Fright Knight's honesty. He knew from Jazz's counselling sessions that healing from trauma isn't linear - there will be highs and lows as well as scarring that must be endured. A wistful smile spread across his face as he thanked his mentor.

"You're welcome, my apprentice," Fright Knight replied, standing tall once again before saying something else - but a high-pitched screech cut him off. Immediately, Fright Knight summoned a flaming green sword while Jason stood up with gun in hand, prepared to jump into action against any incoming attack.

His heart thundered in his chest, his core aflutter with anxiety and panic as he remembered the last time Danny had one of these episodes. Dread clawed at Jason's stomach as he and Fright Knight raced down the hallway leading to their liege's chamber, only to be stopped short by a violent blizzard raging between them and their King.

"Our liege is having a night terror again, we need to get Master Nocturne now!" Fright Knight yelled over the roar of the wind, looking at his apprentice with worry in his eyes. Jason could feel his vision tinge green as something inside of him screamed for him to go check on his King.

"Fright. You go on and get Nox, I'll go in to see our king is safe!" Jason shouted back, before sprinting into the howling storm.

"Jason!!" Fright Knight called out desperately, but his apprentice was already lost in the turmoil of snow and ice. With an exasperated curse, Fright Knight summoned his mount and set off to find Nocturne as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile, Jason trudged through the blizzard with his toned arms raised, shielding his face and the red flaming sword in the other. His breath came in ragged gasps, pluming out of his mouth and nose like smoke from a dragon's nostrils. "Mom! Dad! Please, I'm your son!" Jason heard Danny's voice yelled against the howling wind.

"Don't ever call us that to our son's face, ghost!" Maddie Fenton's voice screamed back. Jason's heart sank as he recalled Danny's story of why he stayed in Infinite Realms. His parents had not taken kindly to his reveal, capturing him and nearly vivisecting him before his friends had saved him. The voices in the blizzard retold Danny's trauma again and again. "Dad! It hurts, Dad! It really hurts!"

The frigid air felt like razors on Jason's skin, but his rage and core urged him forward like an animal spurred on by instinct. He thought of Danny, his king, HIS. The memory of the day when he went on a rampage came to mind, but instead of pure rage taking over, it was a controlled fury fueled by an unwavering desire to protect what mattered most to him.

"Where is my son? You're not my Danny'o!" Jack Fenton's words ricocheted through the storm as Jason continued on towards the frozen door.

Finally, he reached Danny's room and Jason grasped Ifrit, his red flaming sword, tightly in his dominant hand. With a single, powerful thrust of the blade, the intense heat blasting from its edge shattered the frozen door open. As the shards of wood flew outward into the hallway, Jason saw Danny curled on his bed with his hands over his hair. Thankfully, his body wasn't frozen. The chill that radiated through the room was colder than anything within Far Frozen and made Jason shiver as he rushed towards Danny whose body jolted in response to his voice.

"Danny!" he shouted out, his core sending the wave of protection and safety to Danny, who winced from the shout.

Jason's boots crunched through the snow as he approached Danny, kneeling down beside him. He grasped his King's shoulder, his own warmth spreading into the coldness of Danny's body. "Danny," he repeated softly, and felt the tension in his King's body ease slightly.

Danny looked up, eyes widening in recognition and relief. "Jason?" he said, voice trembling.

Smiling reassuringly, Jason sent a wave of warmth and reassurance through his core. "I'm here, Danny. I'm here."

As if in response to their exchange, the blizzard outside ceased, and the room began to warm from within.

Danny inched closer to Jason, his exhausted body desperate for warmth. The embrace created a sense of safety as he felt Jason's toned arm tighten around him.

"Your parents?" Jason asked softly. Danny, too tired to speak, simply nodded in response.

"Do you want to sleep?" Jason asked, his fingers lightly stroking Danny's hair. He shook his head no and looked up at Jason with wide, pleading eyes.

"You're tired," Jason sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Danny's face. "Do you want me to stay with you so you don't have to be alone?" Danny nodded again, relieved that he didn't have to speak.

Jason looked to the far corner of the room and saw a small puddle of melted ice where the frigid castle had been moments before. The knight hoisted up the tall, lanky king from the floor and carried him towards his bed, cradling him like a koala cub as he went. As he was about to lay the king down on the bed, Jason heard his mentor and Nocturne enter the room.

"I see you handled the situation, my apprentice," Fright Knight said as they stepped into the doorway.

"Yeah... He got the nightmare of his fucking parents..." Jason replied, tightening his grip around the helpless king protectively as Danny clung to him. He fought to keep his composure, reigning in his anger.

Nocturne, the ghostly figure of sleep and dream, swept into the room on a midnight breeze. He cast his gentle spell of slumber onto the King as he lay in Jason's arms, and watched with fondness to ensure his ward was at peace.

"That should keep him tucked in for a few hours," Nocturne said before turning to Jason. "Do you need my assistance, young Knight?"

Jason looked down at the King, peaceful and unaware, and then back to the ghost. "Nah, I'm good," he sighed. "I just need some time to calm down." Nocturne nodded silently, before he dissipated into the ether like a whisper.

Fright Knight stood in the doorway, illuminated by the faint candlelight in the room. His helmet blocked the majority of his ghostly features, but Jason could still detect a hint of pride in his mentor's voice. He paused for a moment and turned his helmet to glance at Jason, then said, “Rest well and be proud of how far you come, Jason Todd.” With that, Fright Knight disappeared into the shadows, leaving Jason alone with his king in his arms.

Danny snuggled close against Jason and he felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. Rage coursed through him as he thought about Fentons - if he ever found them, they would fucking pay for what they have done to Danny. As Danny slept peacefully on his chest, Jason vowed to never let anyone hurt him again. He tightened his embrace around Danny and promised himself that when Danny needed him, he would always be there.

#the king and his red knight au #dcxdp #dead on main #jason todd #danny phantom #why my snippets ended up them cuddling in one way or another #they need a lot of hugs #tw nightmares #tw blood #not canon so don't take it as canon #snippets

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thesugarsoiree · 7 months

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Savior Of Dragons | CHAPTER TWO

The years had been kind to Y/n Cargyll. The beginnings of her plan had started beautifully. It took a few months to amass a full suit of armor alongside a helmet to mask her identity as a woman, but once it was done the real fun began. She trained by herself, along the part of the coast where no one bothered to go because no fish lived there. She watched the boys train in the courtyards and watched the knights battle at tourneys. She bruised herself, fought with herself, but she always picked herself back up again. For five years she repeated this, fixing her armor and sword until she looked on par with a real knight of the seven kingdoms. She practiced manners and other forms of weaponry, collecting skills as fast as she could think of them.

Finally, Y/n said goodbye to her parents and her little brother who was born a few months after she had ‘arrived’. At least they wouldn’t be alone, although Y/n’s father did slap her when she told them she was going to leave. She set out on her journey to Dragonstone, a young 17 year old maiden with the willpower only a dead woman could possess.

So now here she was, in her sixth year on this journey of a dream and finally at the gates of Dragonstone. The massive stronghold was a sight, obsidian spires entering the clouds and dragon heads snarling down at her. Gaggles of people swarmed into the palace with her, excited for the day's tourney. The town right below Dragonstone was affluent and the Targaryens enjoyed paying them tribute; almost as much as they enjoyed watching the tribute. There was a tourney every few weeks to entertain the royals and the people; knights fighting and dying for the pleasure of the future Queen.

Y/n had fought in two so far, succumbing each time. Since then she had gotten better armor thanks to her job as a different blacksmith’s assistant and she had trained under real knights while in disguise. This time, Y/n was sure she would win.

“Ah, the prodigal son returns?” She felt a clap on her back as she entered the knights tent, shaking her head with a laugh.

“And he is ready to win, Harlik.” Y/n smiled but Harlik couldn’t see it, the northern knight putting on his own helmet.

“Sure, kid. That's what you said the last two times.” Harlik laughed, walking with Y/n.

“I’m sure of it this time, I can feel it.” Harlik laughed harder this time, holding onto his metal covered stomach as he practically crashed into her.

“Oh! Is that so? Well then fuck this tourney because we already have a winner, Ser Alren Cargyll of Shit’s Bottom!” Y/n shoved Harlik off of her, sighing.

“Suck a cock, Harl!” Y/n tsked, and she would never admit it but she enjoyed the way Harlik treated her. It made her feel welcomed, a part of something, like she wasn’t just some rookie knight who mistakenly wandered into Dragonstone. Twice.

“Aye, if I had the inclination I would but seeing as a cunt is so much better, I’ll stick with them.” He mused, shouldering Y/n with a snicker. A horn sounded from outside the tent and the rest of the knights put their helmets on.

“Let the games begin!” Harlik shouted, the knights hollering back as they made their way to the different arenas. Some were wrestling, others were sword fighting, but the bravest were jousting. The jousting was watched by the nobles while the other fights were left to entertain the small folk. Y/n had wormed her way into the jousting pit after convincing Harlik to put in a good word for her the last time.

So now here she was on a black mare with a black lance entering behind her opponent onto the field. The crowd cheered as they entered, her opponent being announced as, “Ser Bronn Torrent of House Torrent!”, a real knight unlike Y/n. She was introduced as, “Alren Cargyll of Kingslanding!”, nobody in the grand scheme of things. That's what everyone thought, anyhow.

Bronn galloped his way towards the royal family, offering his lance to the Lady Rhaena Targaryen, her sweet smile a contrast to her fathers solemn demeanor.

“My Lady, I ask for your favor to get me through the many fights I am to face on this day.” He grinned, his helmet comfortably on his lap. Rhaena placed her favor onto Bronn’s lance, a ring of silver sea-vipers falling gracefully to its hilt.

“I wish you good luck, Ser!” She waved, Bronn rounding to his end of the field. Y/n slowly approached the royal family, looking at them through the gap in her helmet. Daemon Targaryen sat beside Rhaenyra, her three sons nearer to Rhaena as they watched with bated breath what Y/n was going to do. She raised her lance towards the Princess and heir, the woman she came here for, the woman she would fight for.

“My Princess, I ask for your favor so that I may serve you with your blessing, and win on your behalf.” She spoke, bowing her head low. Daemon glanced towards Rhaenyra, the woman smirking in beguiled amusement.

“You wish for my favor, fair boy?” Rhaenyra asked, the crowd growing quiet.

“I do, your highness.” Y/n swallowed down her fear, looking back up at Rhaenyra’s piercing violet gaze.

“Prove yourself. Win this first round against Ser Bronn and I shall give you my favor.” Rhaenyra sat straighter in her seat. She would not give her favor to any common boy off the street, especially one she thought would not survive past round one.

“As you wish, Princess.” Y/n bowed, steeling herself as the crowds roared to life again. Once her and Bronn were settled and had their lances ready the overseer blew his horn and their horses took off. Y/n steadied her hand as Bronn came nearer but it was futile, both of their lances only grazing each other while the crowd’s awe’d in disappointment. Get it together! Y/n scolded herself, Bronn’s shining blue armor like a target that haunted her eyes. Y/n didn't have the money like he did to dye his metals, she wore pitch black armor that melted into her horse's coat; barely glinting against the glare of the sun.

They charged again and Y/n took a deep breath, closing her eyes and tightening her grip. She felt the impact of her lance on something hard, opening her eyes and looking back to see Bronn collapsed on the ground, his horse being wrangled by the tamers. He groaned, Y/n watching as he took off his helmet and called out for his squires. She silently cheered for herself, going back to where Rhaenyra sat and offering her lance again.

“Your highness, I ask again for your favor and one request. If I win all rounds of this tourney, I ask that you swear me in as one of your knights. I wish to serve and protect only you, my future Queen.” Y/n lifted up her eye coverings so that Rhaenyra could meet her gaze, the Princess looking down at the girl critically. The woman stood, taking out a ring of sweet-scented red and black roses. Rhaenyra tossed them onto Y/n’s lance, staying silent for a few moments.

“You have courage, asking for such a thing,” Rhaenyra congratulated, looking back at her husband who had not taken his eyes off of Y/n since she first asked for Rhaenyra’s favor.

“I accept. If you win against all of the opponents pitted against you I shall make you one of my sworn knights and you will be granted the ability to serve me.” Rhaenyra smirked, holding her hand out so that the crowd would quiet.

“We seem to have a brave boy in the ranks today! The rest of this jousting will be him against the knights of the seven kingdoms! Let the tourney begin!” The audience seemed to have no problem with this sudden change, screaming louder than Y/n had ever heard them scream before. She went back to her side and prepared herself, for this was going to be a long tourney.

Y/n, or as the crowds began to chant, Alren Cargyll was a force to be reckoned with. She had almost lost a few times but so far she had prevailed against each foe the Princess had pitted against her. In the current moment, however, Y/n began to doubt if she would win after all. Her and her final opponent, a six-foot-something knight from the Princess’ own guard, had knocked each other off of their horses and begun to fight on the ground. She had been handed a sword while her opponent took a hammer instead. Y/n was swift enough but he was well trained, it was to be expected. He had knocked her down multiple times but she always got back up before he could finish the job. Y/n hadn’t got too many hits on him yet, and her grip was beginning to become lax. She was beginning to become lax.

The screams of the crowd were mixed, some cheering for the man while others screamed for Y/n to get back up and fight. She rolled out of the way when he swung his hammer down, her head crashing against a pole that held up the jousting divider. Y/n barely had time to lift her sword to block his next attack, holding off the hammer mere inches from her face. Her opponent's helmet had come off ages ago but hers had yet to falter, his wild eyes and sadistic grin widening when her arms began to give out.

Shit. Was she about to die again? At a fucking tourney? Y/n gripped onto her sword harder, gritting her teeth as she did so. No, absolutely not. She was going to win, and she was going to save the entire fucking Targaryen family line while she did it. It was like a fire had been lit within her, Y/n kicking up her feet so that the man was tripped up. He faltered for a moment but that was all it took, Y/n tossing him over and throwing the hammer from his grasp. She took her sword and held it against his neck, panting as the crowd's ear splitting cheers rose for the final time that day.

Suddenly Y/n’s arm was grabbed and she was hoisted up, the overseer naming her the winner. Y/n stumbled her way back in front of the royal family, collapsing onto her knees. Only her sword held her up, Y/n’s head hanging low as she attempted to catch her breath. The crowd quieted and Y/n looked up to see Rhaenyra standing once more.

“May I present the newest knight of my guard, Ser Alren Cargyll!” The audience hoorahed, Y/n holding back tears.

She had done it. She had finally done it.

#x reader #x fem!reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #game of thrones #asoif/got #saviourofdragons

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jimblejamblewritings · 1 year

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The Dragon Heir | part 9.

Summary: What happens when King Viserys' only current heir is a choice between his twin daughters? The realm will not accept a woman but you have no care for what the realm thinks it won't accept.

Warnings: it's the game of thrones realm, and obviously incest comes with the Targaryen package but it still deserves a second warning. extra warnings because they are needed for this part — child death and violence.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x black!reader, Daemon Targaryen x targaryen!reader

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: Y'all I'm sorry for this one. It took me forever because I couldn't decide if I was going to follow canon of killing children when lucerys confronts Aemond or let the kids live. I'm so sorry for what y'all are going to read.

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

You adjusted the leather bag on your shoulder, lowering it so the twins could set down the plants they helped collect. Naelyra and Viserys were with you while Aerys was playing with his sisters and uncles.

All of the herbs on Dragonstone were finally collected, including the seeds so you could plant more. The supply was enough to last at least four months. By then the new seeds should have hopefully sprouted so you could keep giving your father medicine that wasn’t milk of the poppy.

You came back into the castle to see your other children run by you as you entered the main hall. Your youngest nephews stopped for a second longer than saying hello.

“Daemon is making us pack.”

“Good, you better hurry. Your brother has the right idea. The quicker you pack, the quicker you can go back to whatever you were doing.”

Lucerys and Joffrey groaned but continued heading to their rooms. Naelyra and Viserys tried to avoid your eyes so they wouldn’t have to pack either. It didn’t work for very long. You continued into the main hall. Daemon and Rhaenyra looked over at you when you set down your bag on the table. A big sigh escaped you.

“It might have taken some time but I’ve collected every herb. No more milk of the poppy for Father. My Joy, do you mind taking me tomorrow on dragon back? I’d like to head back to King’s Landing as quickly as possible.”

“That isn’t a problem.”

You looked at your sister. “Are you coming with us or staying until everyone is packed?”

“Someone has to watch our little mongrels. I’ll make sure we don’t take too long.”

Daemon made his way around the large table in the middle of the room. You could already see his hands reaching for you. His hands went to your waist at the same time that your hands went to his shoulder. Daemon kissed your cheek before kissing your mouth. He kept leaning over until you were bending a little. Looking at your lips and then your eyes, he gave you a smile.

“I know we’ve discussed it but I’ve been dreaming about our children lately. Would one more be all that bad?”

You laughed and gently pushed him. “Absolutely not. Are you not happy with the amount of children you have?”

Daemon pecked your lips as he helped you stand back up. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with more but I’m not the one giving birth.”

“I’m glad you understand that because I have a surprise for y—”

The three of you turned when Ser Lorent came down the stairs. Rhaenyra’s heart raced a bit when he said that Princess Rhaenys was at Dragonstone. You told the knight to let her in while you tried to calm your sister. Rhaenys either brought news that Laenor and Corlys had survived or they succumbed to their injuries and illness. You hoped it was only good news. Worry graced your features when Rhaenys entered the room. She wasn’t smiling.

“Are Laenor and Lord Corlys alright?” Rhaenyra asked.

Rhaenys took in a breath. “Viserys is dead.”

You, your husband, and your sister froze. Rhaenys moved closer to the table.

“I grieve the loss with you. He was a good man with a kind heart… There is more. They crowned Aegon as his successor.”

Daemon stood up straighter. “How did Viserys die?”

“I could not say. No one seems to know.”

“How long ago did he pass?” Rhaenyra asked.

“A day or two? I was locked in my chambers while they prepared for the coronation. It must have happened shortly after you left, they crowned Aegon yesterday.”

“Then he’s been slain,” Daemon said with certainty.

Rhaenyra looked over when you walked away from the table. Your face twisted up in pain. You took steps towards the fireplace, unable to do anything but just stare into the fire. Rhaenyra kept watching you as she asked her next question.

“They asked you to declare for Aegon?” Your sister’s head turned around when Rhaenys told her yes.

“I didn’t. I refused.”

Daemon’s jaw clenched before relaxing. “And yet you’re still alive.”

You slowly turned as you listened to her speak about the coronation. They had crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit, giving Rhaenys access to her dragon and a chance to escape. Your eyes drifted over to the bag of herbs you had finished collecting that morning still on the table.

“They crowned him before the masses?” Rhaenyra asked.

“So the masses would recognize him as their rightful king.”

“That whore of a queen murdered my brother and stole his throne,” Daemon said lowly. “And you could have burned them all for it.”

“A war is likely to be fought over this treachery. But that war is not mine to begin. I only rushed this warning to you out of loyalty to my husband and my House. The Greens are coming for you and for your children… Is something funny, Laelara?”

You just grabbed the bag of now-useless herbs from off the table. “Your House? Princess Rhaenys, this is your House too. Laenor’s sons are my nephews. Laena’s daughters take my husband’s family name. The name you were born with, Rhaenys. My name.”

“Don’t insult me, Laelar—”

“Queen Laelara. If you do not want to accept this House as your own then you do not earn the respect of calling me as if we are family. It is Queen Laelara or Y—”

“Mother!” Rhaena and Baela yelled as they came running down the stairs.

“Yes, my sweetlings?” you asked as you gave a pointed look to Rhaenys.

“The guards caught a man outside… wearing a Kingsguard uniform.”

You and Daemon wasted no time going outside, the others following behind. Soon most of the castle, the few people that actually lived there, were outside. Your guards were holding a man with long brown hair. He was kneeling on the ground. His helmet and sword were now in the dirt at your feet. The man looked up at you.

“I mean no harm.”

“Let him go for a moment,” you commanded your guards.

The man opened a bag that had been around him the entire time. You gasped at the sight of your father’s crown. The man, who finally gave his name as Erryk Cargyll, held it up. Daemon gently took it from him, just looking at it.

“I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife, sire no heirs and hold no lands. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor.”

Daemon turned around slowly, looking at you the entire time. The crown was set on your head before your husband kneeled. The sound of movement behind you made you look. Everyone was kneeling. You almost laughed at your own children who were surely too young to actually know what they were doing.

You made eye contact with Rhaenys who was staring at the entire scene in front of her, mainly at her granddaughters also kneeling. Slowly, she kneeled as well. You held a hand out to your husband. Daemon looked up as he took your hand in his.

“You know war better than I do. I don’t want us to fight. Is that possible?” you asked.

“If we have the right allies.”

The large table in the middle of the main hall was a map. The entirety of Westeros. Candles were lit and shoved into a drawer underneath the table, lighting the entire thing up. Swords were laid on a table at the door as more men came in. All of the castle stood in the hall, even the ones who didn’t fight. They waited for you to come in. Daemon stopped fiddling with the pieces on the table when you entered.

“Queen Laelara Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Your Grace,” he said with a bow of his head.

You moved to stand between you and Rhaenyra’s children, denying the cup of wine Baela offered you. Your eyes scanned over the table before looking up at your husband directly across from you at the other head of the table.

“Our current standing?”

“We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men-at-arms.”

“Not nearly enough.”

“Dragonstone is easy to defend. It wasn’t built for conquest. We have sent word to my men in the City Watch.”

“How many are loyal to you?”

“I cannot speak of the numbers. We should prepare for the smallest number.”

One of the maesters spoke up. “But we already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton. As well as Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon.”

Jace and Viserys moved Targaryen pieces to the lands where the Houses the maester said had lived. You pointed to where so your son could put one on the Vale.

“Our lady mother was an Arryn. The Royces may hate Daemon but the Vale is loyal to family. At worst, they won’t help fight. But they will not turn against us.”

The maester nodded. “Riverrun was always close to your father, Your Grace. With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I sent ravens to Lord Grover.”

You stopped Viserys from putting a piece down on the Riverrun. “He is a man easily swayed. I don’t want to consider him a surety and be surprised by betrayal later. Unless we can convince him of the strength of our position.”

“I’m going to meet him personally,” Daemon said.

“What of Winterfell?” one of the guards asked. “There’s never been a Stark who has forgotten an oath. And the Baratheons.”

“Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his oaths. He was always reluctant to bend the knee to a woman.”

One of the guards placed a Hightower piece over the Baratheons for good measure. You sighed.

“This still isn’t enough… Our enemies?”

No one was surprised at the mention of the Lannisters. Your list of enemies was less than expected but they had huge armies. The head of your Queensguard coughed.

“If I may speak candidly, Your Grace, your side has a power the world hasn’t seen since Valyria.”

“The Greens have dragons as well. Four of them.”

“But you have Vhagar.”

“And Aemond has her spawn who is undoubtedly bigger or nearing that size. And Vhagar is old. We should expect her to die at any moment.”

“They have four but we have Syrax, Caraxes, Meleys, and Vhagar. Vhagar is the only war dragon still alive,” Daemon started. “Not to mention the ones belonging to the children. Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, Moondancer, Sunfyre, Goldtear, and Valor. If Laenor is recovered enough, we have Seasmoke.”

“Tyraxes, Sunfyre, Goldtear, and Valor all belong to children under ten. They more than likely won’t fly without their riders and those four won’t be fighting.”

“We also have the unclaimed ones. They’re all here on Dragonstone. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless. You haven’t claimed a dragon, Your Grace. And not to mention the three wild ones. Grey Ghost, Sheepstealer, and the Cannibal.”

“The Cannibal?”

“He eats other dragons, there is nothing better than that.”

“And who is going to ride these creatures?”

“No one needs to ride them. Even without the children’s four dragons, we have fourteen to their four.”

“Thirteen. There would be thirteen dragons to their four.”

“Fourteen,” Daemon insisted. “Unless one of Alicent’s children can suddenly survive fire unburnt, you are the only Dragon alive. We don’t need riders to claim them, you just have to call them to attention.”

You motioned to the table. “Fine. But I don’t want to rely on dragons we aren’t certain of. I want to continue planning without them. Right now we have Caraxes, Syrax, Meleys, Vermax, and Vhagar.”

He nodded. “Five dragons. We still need a toehold large enough to house a sizable host.”

You smiled slightly when he tilted his head, basically asking you if he could go on. He was careful not to overstep. But you didn’t plan wars or battles. Your father had lived in a time of peace where he sent Daemon for small tasks that you never really learned about strategy.

“Do continue, King Daemon,” you said in High Valyrian.

His mouth opened slightly before he recovered. “Right, yes. I believe Harrenhal is where we should gather. Here, we can cut off the west and surround King’s Landing with dragons. Even with five, the threat is strong. We could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.”

Ser Erryk approached, tapping your shoulders. “Your Grace, they’ve spotted a single ship offshore, carrying the banner of a three-headed green dragon.”

Daemon immediately moved to grab his sword that was leaning against the table. “Alert the watchtowers. Take the children, Princess Rhaenyra, and Princess Rhaenys towards the Dragonmont.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You grabbed your sister’s arm before she could keep going. “If this is an attack, one of us needs to live another day. If nothing, for our children.”

Rhaenyra’s jaw ticked but she reluctantly agreed, going the other way while you and Daemon went outside. The two of you whispered back and forth with each other.

The guards were just a few steps ahead as they led you to the stone bridge that was the entrance to Dragonstone. You could see Otto Hightower in front of a bunch of Kingsguard men. He stood proudly.

“I come at the behest of the Dowager Queen Alicent, mother of King Aegon, second of his nam—”

“Spare me the names, Lord Otto. I understand what the title of usurper means.”

Otto ignored your comment. “I have been sent to deliver a message for Princess Laelara only.”

“It is Queen Laelara and if you can’t truly believe I am stupid enough to be alone with you and your guards. You can say whatever you need in front of my men or hand me something written and be on your way.”

“King Aeg—”

Otto stopped when a large roar pierced everyone’s ears. A blood red creature flew through the sky. Caraxes’ long neck was seen first before the rest of his body. He landed on the other side of the bridge, effectively sandwiching Otto and his men in between you guys. The man swallowed as he stared at the dragon before turning back to you. Daemon clicked his tongue and Caraxes settled. You pursed your lips.

“You were saying something, Lord Otto?”

“King Aegon in his wisdom and desire for peace is offering terms. Acknowledge Aegon as the proper king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne. In exchange, His Grace will keep your possession of Dragonstone to you and your children. Driftmark is still the possession of your nephew and first daughter.

“Your youngest children from you and your sister will be given place at the King’s court. The King’s squire and cupbearer. And finally, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.”

“Yet you have conspired against mine despite bending the knee all those years ago.”

“These are very generous terms, Princ—”

“Your Grace,” Daemon cut him off. “And I would rather feed my children to the dragons than have them carry cups and shields for your drunken, usurper cunt of a king.”

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne. He wears the Conqueror’s crown, wields the Conqueror’s sword, has the Conqueror’s name. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him.”

You marched up to Otto and looked him in the eye. “You’re right. He wears the Conqueror’s crown and carries the Conqueror’s sword and even bears the Conqueror’s name. But what is my entire name, Lord Otto? I will allow you to speak informally this time.”

“Laelara Aegon Daeny Visenya Targaryen.”

“I bear the Conqueror’s name too. I claimed the dragon used by the Conqueror’s sister-wife, Visenya, when they first came to Westeros. A woman who Aegon respected and named a conqueror herself as she ruled with him.”

Otto swallowed when you pulled out your sword and pressed it against the side of his neck. You simply laughed when his guards pulled out their own swords but weren’t sure whether to move or not.

“A woman whose name I also bear and whose sword I have wielded since before my brother was even a thought in your seedy, conniving mind.”

“Aegon was crowned by a septon of the Faith and named in front of a crowd of thousands.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m sorry?”

“If he was named in front of thousands then certainly all of King’s Landing must believe in him and not me? Surely you and your men would have stormed Dragonstone and have us arrested or killed. So why haven’t you?”

“Because Aegon is a kind king.”

“No. Because Aegon is no conqueror. How dare you come to me with these terms? I want better. Tell the king that.” You sheathed your sword and walked away.

“Does that mean you are accepting?”

“I want better terms. Do not make me wait, send a raven in three days time with more than just a cupbearer for my children.”

“Yes, Princess.”

The men sheathed their swords. Otto watched Daemon grab your arm tightly. His jaw ticked as he glared at you. Otto couldn’t make out what your husband whispered in your ear. You yanked your arm from his grip.

“You swore allegiance to me and my decisions and you should do well to remember that.”

“Your decisions,” Daemon said just loud enough for Otto to hear. “They mean giving up. Do you truly believe Aegon will stay by his promises? I would never trust that if I was Viserys’ successor.”

“Then it is a good thing you were never even a consideration for heir.”

“You cannot bend your knee to the Hightowers. They’ve stolen your birthright from under you. Are you not angry?”

“Of course I am. Does that mean I should declare war because I’m angry? That isn’t Viserys’ dream.” You gasped when Daemon smacked you across the cheek. The guards grabbed him immediately.

“My brother was obsessed and blinded with his dreams and prophecies. Anything to make his reign not seem fruitless. Dreams didn’t make us kings.”

“If you touch me again, it will be the last thing you ever do. Do you understand me?” You turned and looked at Otto, trying not to cry. “I expect the raven in three days.”

“Princess, are you alr—”

“Three days.”

You walked away, the guards behind you carrying Daemon back to the castle. The doors to the castle were closed and a scout watched from the watchtower to make sure the Hightowers went home with all their men. Daemon was let go of by the guards. He immediately stood up and held the side of your face, examining one side of it.

“My Fire, are you alright? I didn’t hit you too hard, did I?”

“Do you think he believed it?”

“I think he will report it back to their council. If that bought us time, I’m unsure. I’ll tell the Queensguard to summon everyone for the meeting. Please find one of the maesters for your cheek.”

“I am fine, My Joy. You were very careful.”

Daemon peppered kisses all over half of your face. You pulled away from him slightly. He watched your face intently. You knew with war that you couldn’t keep secrets to yourself anymore. Aegon the Conqueror’s dream of ice and fire needed to be shared. Daemon squeezed your shoulders slightly.

“We cannot worry about that right now. But I promise we will figure it out once this war is over. We won’t be unprepared for whatever ice and fire is bringing.”

You nodded. Just to ease his mind, you went to find the maester before coming back to the table for the meeting. You sat in a chair at the head of the table, listening with great annoyance at the men arguing about what to do. You beckoned one of the attendants over.

“Where are my eldests?”

“Princess Rhaenys asked to see them.”

“And where is the princess?”

“She has been tending to her husband and son ever since the news of their fevers breaking, Your Grace.”

Ser Erryk stood to attention.

“The Lord of the Tides, Lord Corlys Valeryon. His wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, and their son, Ser Laenor!” he called out.

Everyone turned. Rhaenyra ran to hug Laenor, you followed close behind. The two of them embraced before pulling away. Laenor bowed his head to you.

“Your Grace.”

“Oh, come off it, Laenor,” you said as you pulled your cousin into a hug. “We’ve known each other since birth. I’m happy you’re alright.”

“Your Grace,” Lord Corlys said with a slight bow.

“Lord Corlys. Or should I say Hand of the Queen,” you said with a smile.

His eyes widened for a brief moment before bowing his head once again. He extended an arm towards the table and you nodded as you all made your way back to the center of the hall. Lord Corlys looked around.

He walked around the table. “These are your declared allies? Too few to win a war for the throne.”

“We are also looking at support from House Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark. Arryn is my mother’s House. Even if they don’t fight, we know they are not enemies.”

“Looking for support isn’t guaranteed support. Your father’s realm was one of justice and honor. The Hightower’s treason is not allowed to stand any longer. You have the full support of the Velaryon fleet and house.”

You and Daemon stopped looking at the table to look at the man. Lord Coryls grabbed a Targaryen wooden piece and placed it over Driftmark. He knocked on the table twice.

“I have heard you do not wish to fight.”

You shook your head. “I don’t intend to strike, not first at least. If war can be avoided it should.”

“You want to threaten?”

“Ideally.”

“Would control of the Stepstones aid in that desire?” Laenor asked.

Your eyes went wide. When Laenor and Corlys were hurt in the Stepstones, everyone assumed they had lost. To have control of the Stepstones was a major feat. You basically owned the Narrow Sea. Lord Corlys was ready to deploy his fleet and take control of all the shipping lanes in Blackwater Bay.

All travel and trade could be stopped from reaching King’s Landing. The Hightowers wouldn’t be able to give the people what they needed. They could only get that from your family. Rhaenys agreed to patrol the gullet herself with her dragon and make sure the rules were enforced. It was almost the perfect siege.

“We still need to surround the Greens and that requires more people. Even with all our dragons, the land is too vast and they only need to reach Shipbreaker Bay or further down to Dorne in order to evade us.”

“My uncle has always been a supporter of mine,” Rhaenys said. “A letter to House Baratheon is all we need.”

“I’ll prepare the ravens, Your Grace,” the maester said.

“We should do it.”

You looked at your eldest nephew. Jacaerys shrugged before nodding his head with more confidence.

“We should deliver the messages. You predicted only a couple of days before the Greens make their own allies and come back to us, Your Grace. That isn’t much time. On dragons, we’re faster… and more intimidating.”

Rhaenyra leaned over. “They would be more convincing.”

“Send us,” Baela said, adamantly.

“Alright,” you said reluctantly. “Where do we need to find allies?”

“House Baratheon, House Stark, House Arryn are major,” one of the men said. “Dorne has always been the most distant kingdom but the aid of House Martell would be helpful. The Iron Islands are Stark bannermen but always hesitant to fight in a war they don’t deem their own, some persuasion there might be useful.”

“The Greens have dragons and three riders,” Daemon said.

You nodded. “Both of us are vying for House Baratheon. They’ll send Aegon to try and intimidate because he is their king. The Greens also need Winterfell.”

“That means Aemond will be seeing the Starks.”

“I want you, Rhaena, to go with Naelyra and Joffrey to Dorne. The Martells will appreciate the trust of letting them see our youngest children. Baela, you and Viserys are going to the Eyrie. House Arryn is family. They are safe for you two.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Lucerys, I don’t want you anywhere near Aemond. You will deliver a message to Storm’s End.”

Laenor walked over to his son, putting both hands on Lucerys’ shoulders and smiling at you. “Lord Baratheon has many daughters, none betrothed.”

“Cousin, you are actually brilliant. Luke, you’re taking Aerys with you. Daemon, Rhaenyra, I’m asking you both to go to Riverrun.”

“What about me?” Jacaerys asked.

“Are you okay to go alone to Winterfell?”

“I would love to.”

“Then the matter is settled. But Jace, do not argue with Aemond if he is there before you. Your business is with Lord Stark only.”

Jacaerys reluctantly agreed. The children went to saddle their dragons or add extra rider straps in the case of Lucerys and Aerys while you penned letters. Nothing made you more nervous than sending the children. They were messengers so you shouldn’t have worried but you couldn’t help yourself.

While they got ready, Daemon left for the Dragonmont. He wanted to see about securing the unclaimed dragons and eventually tracking down the wild ones. The plan was to start with Vermithor and then move on to the others.

The children came by to receive the letters from you. You hugged them all and gave them kisses on the forehead. You bent down to your Aerys’ level.

“Be good to your cousin,” you said, giving him one more hug.

Lucerys complained when you ruffled his hair and kept hugging him much to his annoyance. You laughed as you pushed him away.

“Alright, go. I expect you back in the morning.”

“We won’t be late!”

Lucerys was glad you asked him to take Aerys and not Aerys’ dragon. It had started raining slightly and he honestly didn’t want to be responsible for watching another dragon. It was just easier if Aerys was with him and they both took Arrax. He hoped it would stop raining tomorrow.

Lucerys stopped, pulling Aerys’ hand back, when the doors of Storm End’s castle opened up. He didn’t see Aegon in the hall. It was Aemond. Lucerys tried not to look anymore as they entered. Maybe it would be fine. Aemond liked you. He called you Aunt Laelara even though you were his half-sister.

His entire plan fell through when Lord Baratheon requested the guards escort him and Aerys back to Arrax for their safety. Aemond wanted to fight. But at least he gave Lord Baratheon the letter.

As they kept flying, Lucerys thought they might have secured an ally. It helped offering the young prince’s hand in marriage for an alliance. Lord Baratheon seemed pleased at the notion, stating he would think over all prospects given.

Aerys screamed, making Lucerys look down. Far below Arrax was a massive dragon. Maemar. He tried to calm Aerys down as he soared higher. Arrax dipped through a small canyon that Maemar simply couldn’t go through. But the safety of the rocks didn’t last forever. Lucerys pushed his dragon to go higher and faster.

Maemar couldn’t be shaked. The dragon snapped at Arrax, almost catching the smaller one’s tail in his mouth. Lucerys shook his head as he directed Arrax to go back into the cliffs. His eyes scanned the canyon side to see if there was a cave. The dragon landed in the first cave they could find. With shaky hands, Lucerys took Aerys down from the saddle.

The younger boy hugged his cousin tightly, refusing to let go. Even when he fell asleep, Aerys was still holding on. Lucerys stayed up all night. His sword was out and pointed at the entrance of the cave in case Aemond decided to jump down from his dragon and come into the canyon. He thanked the heavens when the skies cleared in the morning.

“What are you doing?” Aerys asked when Lucerys dug through the dragon’s saddlebag.

He came back with some parchment and a fountain pen. “Aerys, you hold onto these. Hold on really strong. Okay? One’s for my mother and father, one is for your mother and father. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Lucerys put the materials back in the bag. He picked Aerys up and carried the boy back to the saddle. He didn’t strap himself in, only gripping the front of the saddle tightly. Lucerys nodded when Arrax left the cave. He had a feeling that Aemond hadn’t left the other night. There was no avoiding his uncle. Aemond was already awake. He started to walk towards Maemar.

“Wait!” Lucerys yelled.

Aemond turned his head.

Lucerys told Arrax to lower himself so he could jump down. He patted his dragon’s head. “Take Aerys home no matter what. Do you understand me, Arrax? Be calm and you will take Aerys home.”

The dragon blinked at his rider but seemed like he understood. Lucerys nodded before turning to face Aemond.

“You want my eye? You can have it, just leave Aerys alone.”

“He doesn’t owe me payment. You do. I’m even granting you mercy. You get to choose which eye I will take.”

Lucerys turned his head to one side, figuring he tended to look through field glasses with his left eye and taking the right would be better. Aemond whipped out his dagger.

The sound of metal scraping against its sheath caught Maemar’s attention. The dragon sensed its rider’s anger and spotted the weapon in Aemond’s hand. Maemar took the matter upon himself. A stream of fire left his mouth. Aemond stopped in his tracks, eye going wide.

“Lucerys!” Aerys screamed.

The fire subsided. Lucerys looked down at himself, shocked to still be alive. It was uncommon, even for Targaryen blood, to be a Dragon. It was even rarer to have two Dragons alive at the same time. Lucerys would have to tell you when he got back. But there were more pressing matters. Maemar opened his mouth again, gearing to blow another stream of fire. Lucerys began to run back to his dragon while Aemond ran to his own who looked like he was about to chase Arrax.

“No. No, stop, Maemar, stop!”

Lucerys felt the fire on his back. His heart started to race faster when Aerys screamed, fire reaching him and touching his skin. The older boy was barely on Arrax when he told the dragon to flee.

They had made it far through the skies without being followed. Lucerys tried to comfort Aerys whose skin was blistering and burning. Nothing gave the little boy relief. His eyes started to close a bit.

“No, eyes open, Aerys, keep them open. Faster, Arrax!”

You waited on the beach with Daemon, concerned as the morning grew into afternoon. Lucerys and Aerys should have been home by now. They were the closest to Dragonstone. Rhaenyra and Daemon had made it back in the morning. Baela and Viserys came back only moments ago. Jace wasn’t expected until tomorrow, the same with Rhaena, Naelyra, and Joffrey.

Rhaenyra and Laenor came out after making sure Baela and Viserys were inside the castle. The four of you tapped your feet on the sand and waited. Eventually, you all sat down and just watched the skies. It would be uncommon but there was always a chance that Lucerys chose to fly the other way and was on the other side of Dragonstone, slowly coming their way.

You shot up when you saw the shadow of a dragon in the clouds. Arrax landed, partially on the dry sand and partially where the water brushed past the very bottom of his legs. Lucerys unclipped himself and ungracefully slid off the dragon’s back. Running to him, you held his face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered over and over again through tears.

Lucerys unclipped Aerys from the saddle. Your scream made Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Laenor run. Daemon dropped to his knees, water soaking his clothes. Rhaenyra and Laenor stopped just short of being next to you, hands covering their mouths. Carefully, Lucerys set Aerys in Daemon’s arms before his mother and father pulled him closer to them.

Daemon reached for your hand but you moved away. He didn’t react, only holding his son closer and staring at the ocean. You walked away. Your gait looked like you could have been drunk as you stumbled farther and farther away from the castle. Tears blinded your vision and sobs escaped you. Your feet felt heavy as you kept walking. You didn’t even know where you were on Dragonstone anymore. Occasionally you stumbled but that didn’t stop you from trudging on.

Back at the castle, everyone was somber. Rhaenyra and Laenor had walked ahead of Daemon. Partially to get Lucerys back inside, partially to tell everyone what happened so they wouldn’t disturb you all. The attendants and maesters weren’t able to go near Daemon.

He insisted on preparing Aerys’ funeral himself. His other children — Baela and Rhaena finally coming back with Viserys and Naelyra — stayed in the room at his request. The door stayed open in case he needed anything but no one lingered in the large open room near the front of the castle in order to give the king his space.

Daemon carefully wrapped his son’s body, sniffling and trying not to cry very hard. He took the scissors and cut the excess length from the final strip. In the main hall, everyone stopped and looked towards the door when they heard Daemon scream. He threw the scissors at the stone wall, finally breaking down and letting tears fall. Rhaena approached her dad and put a hand on his shoulder. Daemon hugged her and Baela before letting them take Aerys. He immediately scooped up Viserys and Naelyra.

The tears were gone when he entered the main hall but everyone could tell he had been crying. He looked around for you but you were nowhere to be found. They started the match to the funeral pyre on the top of a hill with large rocks. Maybe you were already there.

It had been well over an hour and you were still stumbling through the sand. You felt something like warm air blow against your back and surround you. Slowly, you turned around. A massive dragon — one you somehow didn’t hear — was staring at you. He was crouched down, head on the sand.

The entirety of his body was covered in black scales. The horns on the top of his head were pointy and large. His green eyes stared into your own. And he wasn’t clean. The dragon looked rough, like a proper wild dragon in serious need of a bath. But he didn’t smell like dragon which you could only imagine was on purpose to aid in his sneaking abilities.

“Cannibal,” you whispered.

Running from a wild dragon was not a smart idea. Standing still and letting yourself get eaten by a dragon was also stupid. Cannibal roared. The deep cry was near deafening. You screamed back at him, not nearly as loud. The roar turned into a loud sob as you dropped into the sand. You clutched your chest and tried to keep breathing evenly. He closed his mouth and settled into the sand, almost confused at your actions.

You stared at horns that outlined the side of his face. They were in the same spot near the back of the head like your dragons. But his horns weren’t straight and going backwards. They faced forward and curved like elephant tusks. The dragon didn’t move, continuing to just stare at you. Your eyes narrowed and you started to shake slightly. You regretted ever letting Aemond have his pick of Vhagar’s eggs. The Greens would not be allowed to continue living with this injustice.

Pulling your dagger from its sheath on your hip, you cut your arm — right under the scar from Alicent’s cut years ago. You dipped your fingers in the blood from the cut and extended them towards the dragon.

He shifted his head but didn’t pull away completely. And he didn’t roar. Blood streaked over his mouth as you wiped it on him. His tongue darted out just a little bit. You put your foot on one of the curved horns. Cannibal let you walk along his horns until you were looking directly into his eye. He huffed. You continued up until you were sitting on his head, between two large pointed horns. You held onto the small spikes.

“Cannibal… Soves.”

The dragon took off, forcing you to clutch the small spikes even tighter. He was faster than you had expected for his size.

At the funeral pyre, the entire castle gathered to pay respects. Some stood in silence while others made plans to strike. Aerys’ death wouldn’t go unanswered. Daemon looked away from the pyre when two of the Queensguard men approached. He propped Viserys and Naelyra back up on his hips and walked towards them.

“We can’t find her, Your Grace. Dragonstone is still being searched but it’s like she’s vanished. Vhagar and Caraxes are still here.”

Daemon held his young children tighter. He looked around, unsure of what to do. He wanted to go look after you himself. But he didn’t want any of them — not even Baela and Rhaena who weren’t babies anymore — out of his sight.

Rhaenyra and Laenor approached him. They extended their arms and patiently waited for Daemon to let go of the twins. He hesitantly put his kids in their arms. He didn’t even get the chance to make a step when the entire sky went dark.

Everyone ducked at the massive creature they could now tell was a dragon. The wings flapped but it seemed like no sound was made. Even when it landed, the ground didn’t shake. The large dragon settled itself on the rocks. It wasn’t Vermithor who Daemon had seen days ago.

It wasn’t the other two unclaimed dragons that flew around Dragonstone. Every person there knew it was a wild dragon. Based on its size that barely overtook Caraxes, it was the Cannibal. They looked from the shadow night dragon to the blood wyrm. Cannibal didn’t seem to care about Caraxes at all.

Daemon approached cautiously, more than relieved when he saw you slide down from the back of the dragon. He pulled you into a tight hug. He shook his head when you thanked him for handling the funeral. You buried your face in his chest.

“I can’t do it,” you whispered.

“Caraxes, Dracar—”

Daemon paused. Goldtear, Aerys’ dragon, had settled onto the pyre and wrapped his body around the dragon. Goldtear wouldn’t budge no matter how much they tried to push her away. The dragon roared and Caraxes responded. Without any command from his rider, the dragon spit fire.

Goldtear gave a single cry before settling down, opening her mouth to receive the fire easier. You turned your head just enough to see the orange fire burn until nothing but ash remained on the pyre. The wind blew the remainder away, letting the part of Aerys and Goldtear still left on the earth take their final resting place in the ocean.

You and Daemon walked towards the pyre, kneeling down at it and praying to the gods of Old Valyria. Everyone else began to walk away and give you some space. Even your Queensguard moved farther away to where they could see you but not the other way around. You finished your prayer, looking up at the sky and screamed. Everyone walking back to the castle ducked at the deafening dragon roar. They looked behind them to see the Cannibal and green flames leaving his mouth.

(part 10)

THIS FIC TAGLIST:

@simbaaas-stuff @sazifer @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @queenies1x1 @avadakadabra93

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107 @i-have-no-life-charlie

#house of dragon fic #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fic #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #targaryen!reader

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earenwen-leafwhisper · 1 year

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Request Aemond Targaryen x chubby reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x chubby female reader

Abstract : Just Aemond being smitten by his futur wife

Disclaimer: this is the first time I write for Aemond so he can be a litle out of character. ( I’m watching House of the dragon again, so if I write for Aemond again, I’d probably write more easily) and English is not my mother tongue.

Aemond had always lived in the shadow, the shadow of the Tragaryen family and the shadow of his brother who would ascend the throne. He liked to think that it would satisfy him throughout his life. Although he found that Aegon would not make a good king, he would never be even if he forced himself.

Aemond always felt the most Targaryen, having had to fight harder than Aegon to whom everything was already due. He rode Vhaegar the greatest dragon living in Westeros, learned High Valyrian and so many other things.

He did not think that something could be missing, something so simple and complex at the same time. Once he became an adult, he understood it.

As the state of health of Viserys deteriorated and succession approached, the weight of alliances was to be tested, alliances led by force were not the most enduring, but those of more solemn unions lasted longer.

Missives had been sent to the noble and less noble houses furthest from the capital, those which had through the houses more important view imposed the choice of Rhaenyra as their queen. In his messages, he talked about marriage, whether it was with Aemond or one of the children of Aegon if the descendants of the houses were too young for a marriage. They would stop at nothing to secure Aegon’s ascension to the throne.

Several messengers had come to express the disagreements of the families they served. Other families, the less noble and most inclined to alliances had made the way.

For several months, young and old women, different from each other, were presented. Alicent ordered Aemond to be courteous with them, to be the most pleasant. Thing on the other side, the same instructions don’t last to be asked. One of the first lady was so intimidated by the prince that she dared not look at him, another much older than him had already married, and told him about her own first marriage rather than trying to get to know the prince.

The days were passing, the number of ladys was getting smaller and smaller, Aemond was tired of all this masquerade. The last one on the list, it was an update of the lover who was shaken by the very moment when they were alone, jumping around his neck, he had to fight to take her down and order a knight to take her out.

The same evening, a small carriage, simple, arrived in the courtyard of the castle, a small coat of arms Y/h/c was painted there. The members of the Y/h/n family, not wanting to disturb the royal family at such a late hour, asked to be taken to their quarters and only to warn them to arrive.

At the same time the Targaryens, took the meal in «family» so to speak, Viserys rested time although badly in his room, Aegon was drunk, Haelan in his own thoughts. Alicent worried about the future of his children, Otto spoke to a servant who had arrived a few minutes before. To finish Aemond, turned to the slightest suspicious noise, the image of the hysterical young woman came back to him and a chill crossed his back.

It was not until the next day that Aemond was freed from this fear. When he met Lady Y/n Y/h/n.

Their first encounters were framed by their respective mothers. The young woman’s mother was one of Alicent’s lady in waiting when she was pregnant with Aegon. Aemond posting back, looking with her purple eye Y/n, how, she remained silent watching their mothers talk. A sweet smile on his lips, he surprised himself to look away when she looked at him, his heart pulsating.

Y/n approached Aemond, neither too quickly nor too slowly or fearing to be in his presence, she was natural.

“It seems to me we haven’t introduced ourselves yet.” Y/n spoke in a soft voice, like when one person was talking to another scared.

Aemond looked at her from the corner of his eye, it was rare that anyone spoke to him in this way, his own mother had not used her tone of voice for as long as he remembered.

«I am Y/n of the house Y/h/n» She nodded slightly.

“Aemond…”

“I hope this day goes well.”

Aemond was astonished that the round young woman was gentle with him, looking at him even in «the eyes» and did not seem to be disturbed by the vision of his scar.

They sat in one of the corners of the room, chatting, Y/n asked him what he liked, what he thought of castle life, she was interested in him, and every question he answered Aemond asked Y/n the same question, or one that looked like it. He enjoyed learning about the young woman’s life.

The day passed quickly, too quickly for them. Aemond offered to escort Y/n, something in him didn’t want them to leave so quickly. He wondered when the door to Y/n’s room closed before him, what happened to him.

The more time passed, the more he found himself dreaming of the young woman, of wanting to be at her side. Every morning, he found her in the gardens, greeting her, at the time of the meals their mothers had made them sit next to each other. Aegon was happy to make fun of his brother, of how he behaved in the presence of Y/n. Aemond tried to remain calm in front of his brother, but Aegon’s taunting towards the weight of the young woman boiled Aemond’s blood. Aegon did not spank him with the intention of hurting the young woman, from the little he had seen her and talked with her, he had learned that royalty did not interest her, that she had come, because it was an opportunity for their mothers to see each other again. If he was teasing Y/n, it was to annoy Aemond.

More than once Aemond had found himself clenched fists, watching Aegon with his one eye. If they weren’t brothers, Aemond wouldn’t have been so held up.

It took only a month for their future marriage to be announced, ensuring a covenant that Alicent welcomed with open arms. For the house Y/h/n although native of Westeros it was established far from the continent since the conquest of Aegon the conqueror, having their own fleet of ship, marching and war, their own army. Relations between Westeros and this family remained courteous through their exchange of goods. But if a war were declared nothing would have prevented the whim of a future queen or king to want to conquer their lands. Now with the future marriage of Aemond and Y/n, this uncertain future became clearer.

Everyone liked to say that of the two future spouses, the most nervous was Aemond.

He had never felt such emotions in the presence of anyone. The only cloud on the horizon was not due to Y/n, but to himself.

Several months had passed, their bonds were forged from the hardest of metals.

Aemond was on Vhagar’s back that night, trying as much as he could to persuade him not to think about it. But Y/n had never seen a dragon since arrived, Aemond had asked Y/n to wait for him near the area where Vhagar was resting.

He came out of this trance when he felt Vhagar preparing to land. When he looked towards the ground, he saw Y/n with a guard, they were waiting in the background, the young chubby women, looking towards the sky. If he could be by his side at that time, he would see his eyes peeled and gleaming with the dragon’s vision.

At the moment when Aemond landed on the ground and saw Y/n a weight on his shoulders gone. Vhagar looked at his dragon boat, before observing the young woman. She uttered a dull roar, as if she had understood why Aemond was so nervous.

The guard left for the Red Keep, the moment he saw the two future spouses going off arguing among themselves, not paying any attention to him. Or even ordering him anything.

Y/n had placed his arm around Aemond’s, resting his head on his shoulder, they walked in silence, observing the starry sky. Aemond sighed, stopping their steps.

“Y/n… I didn’t tell you everything about myself”

“It’s nothing, we all have our little secrets.” Y/n was trying to comfort the young prince.

“Mine is not the size of a dragon.”

Y/n was intrigued, she calmly waited for Aemond to find his words. She put her free hand on Aemond’s chest, smiling gently.

He did not understand how Y/n, the sweet and busty lady, could accept to marry him. How she could make him feel both strong and weak, weak in the face of this fear that she would reject him for his missing eye.

“When I first rode Vhagar… that night I lost my eye.”

“Your mother is vaguely alluding.” Y/n’s voice was just a whisper.

“I fought with my nephews, after the insults…I had my eye punctured during our fight.” Aemond put his hand on his eye patch. “Since…I….”

Y/n put his hands on Aemond’s.

“You don’t have to do Aemond, you’ll do it when you’re sure.”

“I’d feel better if you knew everything.”

He removed his eye cover, revealing the stone placed on the spot of his missing eye, he closed his valid eye. Waiting for the reaction of Y/n, hoping that she would not react like the other young women of the court, although in his heart he knew that she was different in many ways.

Y/n observed the Sapphire, bursts of light passed through it and bounced, she could see the faint reflection of the stars. She stepped back, observing the face of Aemond, how his lips were pinched, how the smile he wore beside him was faded. She placed her hand on Aemond’s left cheek, caressing the contour of her scar with her thumb.

“You are so beautyfull.” His voice was just a whisper.

Aemond thought he had imagined, but when he felt Y/n’s lips resting on his cheek he opened his eye, looking at her surprised, stunned.

“It only increases my love for you.”

"Do you love me?" Aemond was surprised.

“Of course, idiot, I would never have agreed to join you if I didn’t.” She laughs, not to make fun of him, but of this situation.

Aemond stared at her, feeling light for the first time in his life. He smiled and kissed her. It was not a gentle, light kiss that anyone would imagine. But a kiss filled with frustration, envy and love, when their lips are connected, their teeth didn’t hit each other hard enough to hurt them.

If Aemond was sure of anything in his life, it is that he would do anything for her, if he should take the throne in her brother’s place he would make her his queen. Nothing and no one could separate them.

#request #First try #aemond x reader #Aemon targaryen x reader #Aemond x chubby reader #Aemond Targaryen x chubby reader #House of the dragon x reader

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thedo0zyslider · 2 months

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Knightly Training - 6K Words

Fwhip, a knight of the kingdom, is assigned to train a new recruit. it leads to a lot more things than either of them expect, really.

A03

Fwhip, a fairly young man with ginger hair and a tall frame, as well as dragon wings plastered to his back, has been a part of the royal knights for almost five years now. He joined when he was barely eighteen, and currently had no intention of leaving. He quite liked his job, and was always trying to climb the ranks in any way he could. Achieve more things, increase his wealth. He was ambitious like that, people would often say. Whether that was to his own good or detriment really depended on the situation.

Eventually though, the ambition would pay off. Just like the ginger assumed it was always going to. But, it didn’t pay off in the way he, or anyone else, expected. No, it did quite the opposite in fact. But the ginger would be the last person to complain about the outcomes.

One day, Fwhip is requested by the head of the knights to do a new job. They say he is picked because he is very skilled, which the ginger knows to be true, and because he can work well with others. Despite his quietness and sometimes rude demeanor he could boast. He is asked to train their newest recruit, a man with barely any skill under his belt. And Fwhip accepts the offer, knowing he would be a fool not to. Doing it instantly elevates him to a higher standing than he is currently, so it seemed like a no brainer to say yes.

Little does he know, when he walks down to meet the knights newest member, is that that day will be life changing. For him and the man he meets near the castle gardens, a man dressed in well made clothing and with a pose that suggests his near anxious demeanor being in such a new and formal environment.

The new recruit walks in and he looks…. promising . A little scrawny, maybe from a family a little poorer than Fwhip’s own, but there is potential behind his messy blonde hair and wide brown eyes. He’s got a good frame, and some muscles already. Fwhip can work with that just fine, even though the avian wings he has might get in the way. But the ginger himself is a dragon, and has experience dealing with that sort of stuff.

The man introduces himself as Jimmy, from another family of decently high standing, much like the gingers own, and then the two of them get to working together. After the newcomer gets a quick tour, of course. Wouldn't want him getting lost trying to find his new bedroom in the estates, after all.

The first lesson, which happens later that same day, goes better than expected. Fwhip was anticipating that he’d have to repeat even the most basic of moves over and over again to his new winged friend, but Jimmy picked up on things fairly quickly. Despite his decently frequent amount of ditzy moments, some of which were probably played up for laughs, there was a smart brain under all those pretty looks.

Fwhip smiles as Jimmy gets yet another technique down pretty good on his first few tries, and knows this job is gonna be a lot more fun than he first thought. The dragon quite missed having a sparring partner, he had to admit. So maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all.

Maybe his life would finally be going somewhere good.

______________________________________

Over the next few months of training, Fwhip and Jimmy become closer. The ginger didn’t know what to expect of their relationship, since this is his first time as a trainer. But he was not all that against the friendship that was starting to blossom during their sessions. It’s nice, finally having a friend around his own age in the knights. One who was willing to talk about something other than business and alcohol or bitching about their wives. It was certainly better than the consistent loneliness Fwhip had settled with before.

The two men started to learn more about each other too, and it turns out they have a lot in common. For one, they both had sisters. Jimmy’s sister, Lizzie, was the older one, while Gem was the younger of her and Fwhip. Sisters who were not very lady like as well, as people liked to point out frequently.

They learn that both of them are unmarried as well, and should probably be searching for a wife. Though if he’s honest, Fwhip isn’t very interested in finding a wife. Not in that way, no, no, no. The ginger absolutely liked the opposite sex. He would just rather find a good woman he liked rather than buy the next young and pretty thing; like a good portion of men seemed to do. Also Gem would have her gripes if he did the latter, and her gripes were always really annoying. Jimmy, on the other hand, is a little younger than him, meaning the pressure for him to wed is slightly less. The avian seems more concerned about his knighthood than a woman right now, something Fwhip applauds. That’s a good quality to have indeed.

They also learn that each of them had lost their parents early, one of the seemingly many similarities between them. Each man says they are sorry for the others loss, the quietly and somberly move on from the painful topic. It seems like the best they can do, for Fwhip is sure talking about it is just as painful for Jimmy as it is for him.

His friendship with Jimmy feels a lot….deeper than his friendship with other people. A lot more personal. Like he could tell the blonde anything at all, and he would listen without complaint. Likewise, Fwhip feels like he could listen to Jimmy ramble for hours upon hours and never once get bored of it. His voice was just so nice and….enchanting, if he dared to say it.

They two or them often walk back from their training session together, chatting up a storm until they had to separate, or one of them was needed elsewhere. Today is going to be no different, another one of their personal conversations having started at the end of the training session. Those were always the ones they spent the longest on, which made the walks back to their respective chambers longer. Especially because their rooms were not anywhere near each other in the estate.

“So,” Fwhip asks, the two of them walking back to their chambers for the night a little earlier than normal, shoulders almost bumping as they do so. But not quite brushing yet. “Why’d you want to be a knight?”

Jimmy hummed thoughtfully, as if he had to consider his words before answering. “Well, my sister always protected me. Did things women aren’t supposed to do so she could do it. I wanna repay her for all that, and do the protecting this time.”

“Doesn’t she have a husband for that?” Fwhip asks, not meaning to sound condescending when he does. He is just asking out of curiosity, nothing more and nothing less. He thinks Jimmy’s sister is a lot like Gem, actually, in some ways at least. Which is a pretty admirable quality, if you asked him specifically. Other men probably wouldn’t think so.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t mind. He actually wanted me to be a knight.” Jimmy says with a shrug. If his family encouraged the avian’s choices to be a protector, then that was good. He was glad his friend had such a supportive family, in contrast to his own….less encouraging ones.

The blonde fixed his wide, curious eyes on his companion when his story was over. He tried not to feel too awkward and observed under it. “So, why’d you join?”

��Well, I really wanted to invent things, but that didn’t work out.” Fwhip responded, a sad and almost wistful smile appearing on his face. “Now I’m just trying to help my sister become a wizard any way I can.” He feels like he needs to do that last bit, mainly because Gem wants to be a wizard so badly. And she’s smart enough for it too, and would be damn good at it. But their uncle, the one who had gained custody over them, would not let her. And she could not go against the man of the house. So Fwhip was doing all he could with the power being a knight gave him and his family members, all to help his sister's dream become real.

“Do you still invent?” Jimmy asks, his interest clearly piqued by that little detail.

Fwhip felt a small smile stretching across his face, sensing that they had moved even closer as they talked; their shoulders now truly brushing. “On occasion, yes.”

“I’d like to see one, one day.” The avian says sincerely. It takes Fwhip off guard a little, that someone actually wants to see his inventions. No one, other than Gem when she had the time, ever really seemed to care about his craft. Not like he did, anyways, or at all.

“Well, okay then. Just be prepared to wait a while.” The dragon smiled, hoping the amount of joy he felt was reflected in his gaze. “I don't get much time to myself you know.”

“I know!” The blonde hums, still fixing him with a smile that never seems to disappear and wide brown eyes. Ones almost like a baby birds or cows. Fwhip felt bad, that he couldn’t show Jimmy something he so clearly wanted to see. But that smile and those eyes made him feel like everything would be okay, and that he could take all the time in the world, and the blonde would still be waiting for him.

He wished Jimmy would look at him like that more often…

______________________________________

Not even a week later, Fwhip has a small little thing to show his trainee. Maybe the others' interest in his hobby had been his one motivator. Maybe he really, really wanted to impress the blonde. Whatever the reason, his first project in a while was done, and he had someone to show it off too.

It’s pretty late in the day when he musters up the courage to go and tell Jimmy. So the ginger finds himself knocking on the avian’s door, not sure if he’s even in there. For all he knows, his fellow knight could be Lord knows where in town right now, doing who knows what. Maybe he’s not even in his room, maybe Fwhip just knocked on an empty door and looks stupid-

To his mild surprise, Jimmy does in fact open the door. The avian looks understandably surprised to see him, but happy at the same time. “Oh, hi Fwhip!” He says, and the dragon thinks that smile could light up the whole world if it tried. “Do you need something?”

“Yes, actually, I have something to show you!” He exclaims, hoping he doesn;t sound as anxious as he feels, that his heart isn’t beating loud enough to be heard by the other. “I um, left it in my room though.”

Jimmy’s smile doesn’t waver, even as he steps out into the hallway, and shuts the bedroom door behind them. Fwhip tries to ignore how close they’re standing now, and any urge to do anything. “That's fine! I don’t mind walking over.” “Good, good. C’mon then.” The ginger mumbles, and begins to lead Jimmy towards his bedroom. It’s a decently long walk, but the avian relatively knows the way. He didn’t really need to be led there, but the avian lets himself be led anyway. He seems happy to just be walking next to his friend…..happy to spend time with him. And Fwhip is happy to be around him too….way happier than he ever expected to be.

The comfortable silence between them is very loud, even with the dragon’s near constant overthinking of the situation. Of how he was leading the guy back to his bedroom to see something, and whatever implications that may have. He certainly could have phrased their initial conversation a lot better, that’s for sure, even if Jimmy wasn’t thinking of anything like that at all.

Safe to say, the dragon is very glad when he finally reaches his own bedroom door, and is able to lead his fellow knight inside. Jimmy follows him quietly, and takes a quick scan of the dark and rather brody bedroom before saying anything.

“Your room is really nice.” He compliments, looking at the small sword and dagger collection hanging on the dragon’s wall. A collection he hopes to expand very soon.

“Thanks.” Fwhip mumbles, feeling himself smile like an idiot at such a small thing. He found he did that a lot around Jimmy, actually, smile at all the small and untimely meaningless things he did; like the ginger was starstruck or something stupid like that.

“...What did you want me to see?” Jimmy hums, glancing around the room curiously, as if he could find it by doing just that. As if a gift would be left out in the open like that. The silly birdie.

“I, um, I made an invention to show you, actually.” Fwhip says, moving over to the nightstand beside his bed. He pulls the small contraption he’s made out from the drawer, it’s temporary hiding place since the device had been done. He places it down, and then blocks the nightstand with his body. So there can be a grand reveal, of course. All his inventions deserve one, no matter how big or how small they may be, or whatever purpose they serve. They are made by him , after all.

“Really!?” Jimmy gasps, sounding much more excited than he had been before. Fwhip thinks all of this is worth it so far, just because he got to see the blonde’s eyes light up and sparkle all pretty like.

“Yep! Made it just for you, actually.” Fwhip said, feeling a light flush start to creep up his face. For whatever reason. After a small pause, he added onto the statement. “Plus it felt good to use my hands again.”

“Oh!” Jimmy exclaimed, sounding surprised yet also touched. Like no one’s ever done something like this for him, like this is a special occurrence. Fwhip briefly wonders if he should be making even more trinkets after this. “That’s really sweet!”

“Don’t mention it.” He muttered, the tips of his ears now dusted in pink. Which is strange, the knight is usually not an easy man to fluster. “Erm, here it is.” He moves away from the nightstand, so Jimmy can see his gift. He’s…still nervous if the other will like it or not, and quickly prepares himself for the incoming possible rejection.

Jimmy looks at the thing, a small creation that is only able to spin and move, his eyes wide. “Fwhip this is really impressive!” He squeaks, bending down slightly so he can properly test the thing. The avian’s eyes are full of wonder as he watches it spin, and walk a few inches across the wooden table. Fwhip thinks that he’s never looked cuter than he does right now.

“It’s just a small little thing-” He mumbles, not really seeing any need for such fanfare. He would have made something much better, if he had access to more materials, and the dragon knows it. His friend however, apparently thinks otherwise.

“It’s still really good!” Jimmy insists, sounds so…so happy as he looks at the thing. So happy and genuine, like this is the best thing he’s ever been gifted, and will ever be. Like that dumb little invention means the whole world to him. “I love it, thank you “ His last words are a lot softer, warmer, and the ginger thinks he melts a bit upon hearing them.

“Your welcome..” Fwhip mumbles, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. He watches Jimmy mess with the creation made just for him, and knows that all this was worth it. All the anxiety and awkwardness is worth it if he gets to see this man happy.

______________________________________

Not even a week later, the two of them have another big moment. Like, really big, bigger than even the little invention stunt. The biggest and most impactful one to happen between them ever in their lives, probably.

It happens at one of their next sparring and training sessions, right at the start of it. They don’t even train much that day, actually, because what happens sends both men into wildly different mindsets. And neither of them are the fighting kind.

They arrive at the training room together, then separate a little so they can slip the armor sets they have on. Like they do every time, during every teaching session. The training armor isn’t quite as heavy as the real stuff used in battle, so Fwhip finishes early, just like he does every time. The dragon waits for Jimmy to emerge, leaning his sword against the nearest wall as he does so, and is met with a familiar sight when his friend finally emerges back out into the main practice area.

The avian has his armor on a little incorrectly, probably having struggled putting it on around his wings again. It was pretty hard to get used to that, Fwhip knows that fact from personal experience. Even today he still has moments where he fails to do it properly, even if they are rather rare.

“Here,” Fwhip says kindly, taking a few steps closer. “Lemme fix your armor.”

“Okay.” Jimmy responds, letting the other knights approach him. Fwhip feels suddenly….anxious, maybe a little awkward as he reaches the avian, and goes to fix his armor. He thinks it's the thought of him and Jimmy touching that seems to, dare the ginger say, fluster him so much. Even though they’ve done this before, today is somehow different. Regardless, Fwhip does what he said he would, and adjusts his friend's armor.

He thinks the avian’s breath hitches when he adjusts the breastplate around his wings, and wonders if they both feel the same about this. He puts the pauldrons in their proper places as well, and tries not to think about the eyes that are curiously watching him. Fwhip feels himself flush, and doesn’t meet Jimmy’s gaze when he goes to fix the crooked helmet.

“Let’s get started.” He says, moving away. The dragon walks back across the room, going to grab his sword for where he left it. It’s better to start this training now, in his opinion, before the day gets even more awkward. There’s a small mumble of agreement, and when he turns back around the blonde seems to be acting normal. He already has his sword ready, too.

“En garde!” Jimmy says, pointing the sword out towards him and his voice echoing across the room slightly.. There’s a stupid little smile on his face, one that Fwhip finds secret endearing. Only secretly though.

“That's for fencing, not knights.” The ginger snorts in amusement, lifting his own sword up in response. He feels like this session will be an especially good one today.

“Close enough innit?” Jimmy shrugs, already watching the other man's every movement. Just like he had been instructed to.

Fwhip snorts again, charging forward to make the first move of their sparring session. “I guess. Except in fencing you're not supposed to impale someone.”

“Like I said, close enough!” Jimmy yelled back, dodging his blow with ease. Because that was an easy move to dodge on purpose. Fwhip wasn’t one to waste all his good moves early on, after all. He put on a show when he fought, especially in these training sessions.

Especially for Jimmy.

The spar goes a lot like they normally do. The two men are evenly matched, while the ginger slips in lessons and advice between banter and kicking his trainee’s ass. Though today something in the air feels different, and Fwhip can not pinpoint why. Maybe it is from their strange tensions from earlier, maybe it is from something else. Regardless, the dragon doesn’t have time to focus on that. Jimmy had just gotten a great move in, actually managing to strike at his armor and make the metal clash. He took a step back in momentary surprise at that, a pleased grin starting to stretch across his features.

“You’re getting good at this!” Fwhip says, feeling a bead of sweat drip down his brow. His student has shown a lot of improvement in the four months they'd been working together. He's pretty impressed by it, and incredibly proud.

Jimmy grins, clearly pleased by the praise, and takes another stab at him. “Good enough to beat you?”

The ginger seems to consider it for a moment, blocking the attack again. “Hm, fat chance!” He exclaims, and manages to successfully unbalance his opponent. It’s the first time he’s been able to do so in a while, and triumph floods him as Jimmy stumbles.

But the avian is skilled now, and knows not to let an enemy get him helpless on the ground, especially if he lands painfully on his wings. Something Fwhip had taught him early on. So instead of just falling, he kicks his leg out. The metal of their armor collides with clashing sound, and Fwhip makes a sound of surprise as he too is unbalanced and sent tumbling downwards with his trainee.

He lands with an oof , catching himself on his hands. Jimmy makes sure the fall is not too hard on his back, just like he had been taught, and hits the ground under the ginger with a similar grunting sound. Fwhip blinks down, flustered as he realizes what pose they have ended up in. Jimmy is pinned under him, their bodies pressing together in multiple points, and their faces closer than they have ever been. It’s quite the breathtaking situation, if he has to be honest.

Lovely brown eyes stare back up at him, and the dragon thinks he’s going to die .

“Hey.” Fwhip mutters, very aware of the position they’re now in. And how horrible it would be if someone walked in. Two men are not supposed to be.… posed like this. Especially not ones of their status.

“Hey..” Jimmy whispers back, his eyes darting around the ginger's face wildly, like he doesn’t know where to rest them. “Pretty close there aren’t you?”

“Heh, yeah…” The dragon mutters, feeling like something is pulling him downwards. Like he wants to connect the admittedly small gap between them. The rest of him screams not to, that the action is wrong, that he has been told not to. That it is sinful.

“Is it wrong for me..” Jimmy mutters softly, the same internal turmoil clearly flashing across his face. Fwhip is glad they're on the same page about that, at least. “...To want to do something more right now?”

“I’m not sure…” He says, seeing how they are now just inches apart. The part of him that says not to is very loud, but the desire and want is louder. It’s stronger and telling him to get it over with already. Yet he is still hesitant. “I think I want it too.”

Thankfully, Jimmy makes the decision for him. “Say no and I’ll stop.” He mutters, and finally brings their lips together. The feeling is magical, like nothing he’s ever experienced. The voices in Fwhip’s head finally quiet, and all he can focus on after a second is the way Jimmy lips moves against his, and the way an armored hand holds his cheeks as gently as possible and keeps him there.

There is no saying no, there is no stopping. Even when the two men finally pull away, Fwhip just wants more. He wants to give into his desires oh so badly. Thankfully, the same look is reflected in the avian’s eyes, and it’s not long before he’s fully pressing the birdie to the ground hungrily. Though he still waits for his partner to initiate their next series of kisses.

Jimmy leans up to kiss him again, more passionate this time. Fwhip keens into it, letting himself get lost in the feeling and the taste of it all for just a few moments. Lord he had wanted this so bad, and for so many months too. Their lips connect again and again and again, until both of the knights are panting and breathless and getting far too heated for the near full sets of armor they are both wearing.

They pull away after what feels like an eternity, and go to slip their armor off. Fwhip finds his eyes trained on Jimmy the whole time, unable to look away. He knows he’s not quite satfisted that urge in him yet, to kiss his friend stupid. So when they are back in their normal clothes, he is quick to press Jimmy into the seat in the changing room, and resume their earlier activities.

Fwhip quietly connects their lips again, shifting so he is in Jimmy’s lap. The avian lets him, doing so almost happily. The ginger really hopes the door is locked behind them. Because he doesn’t want to just feel the kiss this time, he wants to feel everything. The flush of their bodies against each other, the warmth his friends always emits, the way Jimmy’s hands feel when they hold his cheeks and the back of his neck, the way wings envelop him softly. Everything .

They break apart and then connect again, leaving no space between them. While Fwhip focuses on the feeling of the kiss, and the joy he gets from it; Jimmy focuses on advancing this. Focuses on getting handsy. Slim fingers ghost over the velvet of his wings, and Fwhip gasps into his friend's mouth. So Jimmy keeps doing that, keeps massaging his wings, until the other knight is basically putty in his hands.

They pull away after what feels like an eternity, both men panting heavily. Before Fwhip is able to leave the avians lap, a small hickey is quickly sucked into the side of his neck. Right where all his clothes will cover it, thankfully. He shivers at the feeling of it, and misses Jimmy’s lips when they leave his skin for the final time that day.

The walk back to their chambers is the closest they’ve ever had. Fwhip is glad it's dark out already, and no one is around, because their hands are intertwined and they almost kiss about five different times. Jimmy bids him a sickly sweet goodbye when they get to his door, and the ginger cannot help but swoon over it.

Back in his own quarters, Fwhip finds himself pacing.

What they had just done today was dangerous, for both of them. He’d never seen anyone punished for this type of behavior himself, but he knew what the punishments could be. It was anything from being disgraced to burning, depending on what act you partook in. Fwhip’s pretty sure what they had just done wouldn’t get them the worst punishment, which was for sodomy, but it wouldn;t get them the easiest one either. If they didn’t just charge them with sodomy anyways. And their money couldn’t buy them out of it either, if anyone ever knew.

And no one will ever, ever no. For his sake, but mainly for Jimmy’s. He’ll say he forced the avian into it, if anyone ever asks. He will gladly burn at the stake for the sake of his friend.

Maybe being so ready to die for Jimmy makes them more than just friends….maybe it’s nothing, maybe no one will ever find out. Fwhip sighs, and assumes he’ll just have to find out where this goes.

______________________________________

Fwhip does not want to attend church the following Sunday after the kiss. But he has to, for it’s illegal to skip the service. And he likes having a good name amongst his peers and fellow townsfolk. And the lot that choose to not attend church do not have a very good reputation, not in the slightest.

The statue of their god, Aeor, looks down at him as he walks past it. He feels like scorn and disappointment is shining in those stone eyes. Fwhip talks to his elven friend, one of the custodians and son of the pastor, and feels like he is not worthy to do so. He wonders what his blue-haired friend would say if he knew what the dragon had done just days before.

He attends the service and feels like an imposter. Like he is not supposed to be in that building. He feels his sins crawling up his spine, weighing him down so much that he might as well sink through the floor. Or, well, things he was taught were sins.

Jimmy made him nothing but happy so far, and that couldn’t be a sin. Aeor would never punish someone for happiness!

Would he…?

Instead of pondering that thought, Fwhip tries to focus on what the preacher is saying. When that doesn’t work, he starts to sneakily glance around the room. He needs something else to focus on, something that isn’t himself and his bone crushing guilt that never seems to waver, no matter how he tries to rationalize it.

And well, his eyes land on Jimmy, sitting with his family across the building and Fwhip can’t help but admire him. And how pretty he looks; how the sunlight falls on his face through the stained glass windows and makes him look almost ethereal. Like he was sent from Heaven himself. Honestly, the avian might as well be, with just… everything about him and how he is.

They have been distant for the past few days, even at the makeup training session the day after they kissed. It seems neither men knew how to breach the topic, or be close like they used to be once more. If the ginger had been left desperately longing for the touch of another man again, well that was between him and Aeor.

Yet Jimmy looks over, able to feel his staring, and it is that moment when they become close again. The avian meets his eyes with a small, hopefully smile, and the dragon just knows he can’t let this one get away from him. Certainly not over a kiss, either.

After the church service, Fwhip finds himself in Jimmy’s room for the first time. He knows how he got there, but everything feels like a blur. All he remembers is walking back home with the avian, and as soon as they were alone, Jimmy had grabbed his hand and hidden them away where no one else could see.

When their lips connect once again, it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels so, so right. Maybe a little distasteful, for doing something like this on the sabbath day, but still so right. So much so that they kiss again and again and again, and do so all night long for all Fwhip knows.

When the two knights wake up next to each other the next morning, they both silently agree not to talk about it. The ginger just slinks back into his own chambers, guilt and joy both running through him rather violently, and they don’t bring it up for a good while after that.

He doesn’t think either of them know how to.

______________________________________

They finally have a conversation about it a few weeks later, after yet another training session, when they are both tired from a long day's work. Jimmy is getting close to the end of his lessons, and Fwhip wonders what will happen when that day comes; and if they will ever see each other afterwards. He wonders what he’ll do with himself if it comes to that. (Probably nothing good, if the ginger is being honest.)

The two of them are in Jimmy’s chambers today, lounging on the bed together. The blonde lays next to him, a hand resting on Fwhip’s thigh as he reads. The ginger is doing his own thing next to him. Well, he’s trying too. He hadn’t been in the right headspace to tinker like he wanted too, so Fwhip had been able to do nothing but let his mind wander. And the knight had a lot of troubling thoughts he was trying to avoid pondering on.

There’s a lot of silence and unanswered questions between them. Things they want to say, but neither will. The dragon feels like he’s gonna suffocate in the silence if he sits in it for any longer.

“You know we shouldn’t be doing this , right?” Fwhip muttered, glancing down at the hand idly resting on his thigh. Jimmy turned, so they were no longer laying so close. Instead he sits up, so the two of them are face to face once more. For once, a smile is not on his friend’s face, and it bothers him like nothing else.

“I know.” The avian said carefully, now looking him in the eyes, as if he were staring directly into Fwhip’s soul. It was almost like he was scared of where this was going. “I know they say it is a sin.”

“Then why-” Fwhip starts, but whatever he is about to say is lost to time as Jimmy quickly cuts him off. It’s probably a good thing he did, the ginger was probably just going to hurt him with whatever statement he wanted to make. Whatever dumb question he wanted to ask.

“Because it doesn’t feel sinful to me, it feels right.” The avian says, softly cupping the other's face in his hands. Like he was the most precious thing in the world. “And because I love you.”

Fwhip feels himself start to choke. He feels like he’s being broken into a million pieces, all with three little words. “Jimmy…”

“I don’t care what they say, because I love you. I want to be with you.” Jimmy says, sounding so sure of himself. The look he fixes the ginger with next is sweet, enough so to melt even the toughest of hearts. “Do you….want that?”

“Yes, I want that.” Fwhip nods, finding he had to think for a minute, to consider everything and all the consequences of this. Even though the answer should’ve been the most obvious thing in the whole wide world. “I want you.”

“Then you can have me.” Jimmy mumbles, and moves their faces closer. Fwhip wants to, but he can’t kiss him, not yet anyways. He needs to ask something first.

“This’ll have to be….secretive, you know that, right?” He mumbles, failing to hold back a smile when their noses bump, and just Jimmy in general, honestly. The avian is far too cute for his own good, especially when he’s being all nice and sweet like this.

“It’s like I said, I don’t care.” Jimmy repeated, moving so he could run a few fingers through his friend’s rather messed up hair. The dragon felt himself lean into the touch without a second thought. “If I can be with you I don’t care.”

That is enough for him, and Fwhip feels like he can close the gap between them now. Jimmy returns the kiss with a pleased sigh, like he’s been wanting this for weeks now. Realistically, he probably has. Though this kiss tastes sweeter than all the ones they’ve had before, and Fwhip finds himself relishing in it more than ever.

“I love you, too.” He mutters against the other’s lips. Jimmy smiles, mutters something about them being partners now, and kisses him sweetly again. Fwhip kisses him back, and knows that he would rather be in no other place than this right now.

______________________________________

The years go on, slowly but surely. Everything around them changes, but Fwhip and Jimmy do not. They work closely together, even after Jimmy’s training is over. They keep meeting in secret, having late night talks, and seeing each other in ways most people would be appalled by. Not that Fwhip cares much, as long as he can keep his little birdie close to him, he will be okay.

Eventually, they are forced to marry. It keeps the rumors at bay, and keeps them in better standing with people. Not that the women they marry are interested in anything else, the two only doing so to save themselves from social disgrace and please their fathers. Jimmy is married to a sweet fae girl with brunette hair, and a fondness for pink and flowers. She seems more interested in another man with an affinity for thievery, plus a short and sweet gnome woman she often had tea with. Not that Jimmy minded much. The two of them were more friends than a couple, which worked perfectly well and fine.

Fwhip was wed to a blonde maiden with his shared love for inventing, and who was as quiet and aloof as he was sometimes. They bonded over their shared love of creation, and how their passions had been shoved to the side seemingly forever. And that was that. She didn’t seem very interested in the romance department period, no matter what gender would approach her with a cheeky flirt. Each couple lived in relative peace, the only criticism being the lack of children, something that gradually slowed as they all aged.

Jimmy and Fwhip remained close, very close through the years. And since their wives and them preferred to be separate rather than together, it gave the little couple a lot of time to waste in each other's company. They spent more nights in each other's beds than their own, cuddles exchanged and lips pressed together softly, a secret for them only to keep. Each knight wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of them will go down in history as some of the best, most skilled knights the kingdom has ever hosted. A mentor and his trainee, who he did a splendid job with. Some splendid he went on to be the top recruitment and training officer, and impressed every other night that had once been socially above him. The best of friends, Fwhip and Jimmy were called, nothing less and certainly nothing more. No matter what anyone at the time will think otherwise.

And as the scholars write that, they will lie away from anyone the church binds them to, content as they share easy kisses over drinks and loving touches when they wake next to each other, and when they share the intensity and excitement of all those knightly duties.

Something for only them, to share, and only them to hold, history be damned. A love that will be carved into nothing but the gifts and looks they exchange, for no one else's eye but their own. A love that history will love to hate, but will taste sweeter than anything else in the world.

Something precious only for them to know, as it was always meant to be.

#ron.fic #ron.writing #jimmy solidarity #fwhip #fwhimmy #empires smp #empiresshipping

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wri0thesley · 2 years

Note

Sometimes i wish that darling had successfully escaped. But then how genshin men would suffer after this? I'm pretty sure yan Kaeya would be hella angry for abandoning him or how Diluc would make LITERALLY a whole group of detectives or something but didn't contact the knights of Favonius...

OOH. well. obviously, by virtue of being yanderes, they are not going to let you go so easily; and some of them would certainly take it . . . worse than others.

ft: tighnari, diluc, ayato, zhongli, childe

tighnari would take it horribly. fennec foxes mate for life; he chose you for the rest of his life. part of his yandere inclinations are because you wouldn't truly understand how heart-wrenching and soul-destroying it would be for someone of his species to watch his mate - the love of his life, his soulmate - leave him. he gets . . . despondent. honestly, half of gandharva ville's forest rangers are out looking for you to drag you back to him - they not only don't believe tighnari could do something so awful, but they're more likely to blame you for running away.

diluc takes it horribly too. he's already a vigilante, but with you gone, he's probably out every night desperately looking for you. calling in every favour he's ever been owed, listening to every piece of gossip, getting in contact with his old intelligence agency . . . diluc won't believe you've done it on purpose. he's keeping you safe - so, without him, the only option is that you've been taken by someone untrustworthy and you're in danger. at least when he gets you back he'll be too relieved to properly punish you.

ayato takes it reasonably well on the outside; he calls in the shuumatsuban and tells them to find you at any cost, and keeps his face polite and his smile serene. inside, he's raging - but he's a master at playing games to his advantage. he knows you'll be found - and when you're back in his clutches, there'll be hell to pay.

zhongli also takes it reasonably well - at first. it's only when he's alone he lets his full rage out; dragon nature angry that his greatest treasure has been stolen, hands shifting into claws as he resists the urge to call forth pillars and shatter every stone and rock in sight. if you're extremely unlucky, this emotional imbalance on a man normally so stoic might help the erosion along a little . . . and then, the man who finds you and drags you back to his nest home is far more morax than zhongli.

childe is incensed; rages and growls and starts fights with anyone who may have seen you or who didn't manage to keep you under control. he doesn't care about how much he hurts them, how much blood is spilt - they are keeping you away from him, and that's simply inexcusable. he will hunt you down mercilessly; and when he's found you, he'll insist on a little battle to work out his aggression. the battle will almost certainly end with you slung over his shoulder, the victor, as he forcibly drags you back to your prison with the abyss still raging in his eyes. you're not going to be able to sit down for months.

#yandere for ts #not sfw text #genshin impact posting #nat.txt

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damn-stark · 1 year

Text

You’ll be in my heart

Takes place between part 6 & 7 of The Lion and The Dragon

A/N- I will gladly do more one shots for this series so if you have any requests send me to me

Warning- Talks of baby stuff & birth, FLUFF!!!, forced marriage.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x fem!Lannister reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“…It is really not so hard…”

She says with so much ease.

“…my mother was with me the entire time. Perhaps if you ask she can accompany you as well,” Helaena continues to say. “Or I can.”

You look away from the flowers and offer her a sweet smile. “You can?” You probe.

Without hesitation Helaena nods in agreement. “Of course.” She smiles but avoids meeting your gaze. “You are my sister. That is what they do.”

You draw in a small breath and drop your gaze to smile down at the cobblestone ground. The smell of roses, grass and salt from the sea dance in your nose in the meanwhile, but quickly gets exhaled as you let out a small relieved breath of air.

You would have asked her if it hurt terribly, but you knew birthing wasn’t a painless thing, so it would be a stupid question.

The other question you had lingering in your mind was one not so easy to answer, or think of, but you had the need to ask out of fear….

“Will I…”

Yet before you could actually finish asking your question you quickly cut yourself off as you feel something hitting the inside of your stomach. It’s a painless action, it feels more so like a flutter more than anything, but it still feels weird, something you haven’t felt before.

“Oh,” you gasp softly and stop walking. “Oh.”

Helaena stops and looks back at you in confusion. “What is it?” She asks. “Are you all right?”

You swallow thickly and point at your belly. “I think…something is happening. Inside.”

Helaena’s eyes fall to your belly for a moment to try and think of what you meant. And that’s when she understood your panic and walked over to you to feel your belly for herself.

“It's just the babe,” Helaena assures. “She’s kicking.”

She?

She probably meant nothing by it.

“It’s the first time I assume?” Helaena asks and giggles softly.

You glance down at her hand still on your belly and nod as you feel it again. “Yes. It’s…the first time.”

You’ve always known baby’s kicked and moved when in the womb, you’ve read it, heard it from other people, but one thing you never got to hear was how it actually felt. You were never close to your stepmother so when she was with child, you never bothered to ask her. And your mother, well, she might have told you a story about when she was expecting you, but those memories aren’t something you can’t recall anymore. So this feeling you felt inside was just a surprise.

“Soon,” Helaena continues and pulls her hand away. “She’ll kick a lot stronger. And move around more, she’ll make you uncomfortable, but it is a good feeling. Or so my mother says.”

You hum and look up at her, and that’s when it hits you, the thought of Aemond. He’d want to feel too. He’d want to know. Your relationship may still be getting stronger and more developed, but you can’t rob him of that option. Besides, he’s already been so caring these past couple months that you have been with child, feeling the baby kick would probably make him happy.

“Helaena,” you interject with a smile. “I am going to find Aemond. I want him to feel too.”

“All right,” Helaena agrees without protest. As if she expected it already. “I will stay here for a few more minutes.”

You nod softly. “Okay,” you whisper before you walk back and turn on your heels to begin striding back in the castle with excitement.

Yet the more you thought of sharing the moment with Aemond, the more excited you became so soon striding turned to running.

You ran past Knights, Lord and Ladies, you swerved past servants, and even rushed past Ser Erwin, who didn’t even have the time to ask what had you in such a hurry, nor did you bother to stop and talk with him, you just ran until you reached your shared quarters, and barge in with a beaming grin.

“Aemond,” you blurt whilst you see him crouched over his desk.

Said man lifts his head off the book he’s reading and looks back in confusion. “What is it?” He asks softly, and then studies your body. “Is something wrong?”

You shake your head between your pants and close the door before you approach him with the same grin.

“It’s…the baby. The babe kicked,” you share between pants.

Aemond glances at your belly and doesn’t move. He doesn’t stand up, he stays quiet and watches as if he would be able to catch something happening from where he sits.

“I think,” you add teasingly. “The babe might be too tiny to be able to kick that hard. Don’t you think so?”

Aemond hums and then looks up to meet your gaze, and that’s when you see it, the slight panic in his eye. It makes you smile wider before you grab his hand.

“It’s all right,” you assure him softly. “Feel it. The babe was just kicking. They’re going crazy in there.”

Aemond stiffens, you can feel it under your grasp, but he doesn’t pull away, he lets you place his palm on your belly, he lets you move his hand over your belly until you place his palm where you felt the baby’s kick.

However, when he has his hand on the spot, the baby stops kicking.

“Maybe try saying something,” you whisper.

Aemond let’s out a soft sigh and shifts in his seat whilst his licks his lips and leans an inch forward.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t speak. He just waits.

“I do not feel anything, maybe later,” he adds as the baby remains still.

He’s about to pull his hand away, but in that exact moment there it is again, that flutter, and Aemond feels it because his eye widens and his mouth slightly goes ajar out of shock.

“You felt that?” You ask happily.

Aemond meets your gaze and the corner of his lips twitch to a smile before he stands up from his chair to then crouch down in front of you and place both hands on your belly.

The baby keeps kicking, making Aemond smile wider.

“I think they know,” you say. “Don’t you, Little one? You know your father is here?”

Aemond offers you a smile and then presses his forehead against your belly. “<My little delight,>” he whispers against your belly, and that only seems to encourage the baby more. Aemond feels it and chuckles.

You watch the interaction with a beaming grin and place one hand on the back of his head to gently caress his head. When he feels your touch however, he pulls his head away to look up at you. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you with this soft and enamored look.

His gaze lingers for a moment before he stands up and grabs your cheeks to cradle your face.

“I thought of names,” you share quietly.

Aemond hums and lets you continue.

“If it’s a boy, Aemon,” you giggle, and he just sighs over the fact that it’s almost like his name. “And if it’s a girl…well I thought I would let you choose.”

Aemond begins to smirk. “Okay.” He scoffs softly. “Well. If it is a girl…how about, Visenya? Just like the Warrior Queen you’re so fond of.”

He remembered.

“Visenya,” you repeat it with a smile. “I love it.”

Tagged: @winter-soldier-101 @whateverooooooo @xcharlottemikaelsonx @blue-serendipityy @aistheamazing @lawlerek @hydrationqueensworld @out-of-life @claudie-080102 @ameagrice @stargaryenx @joniinoj @mvrylee

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flowerisevil · 2 years

Text

MAD DRAGON | Harwin Strong x OC! Targaryen

this is not proofread im sorry

summary: in which Harwin tried to get the attention of the only and only Tatria Targaryen the second born of Viserys and late Aemma Targaryen.

A/N: this is my first fanfic so sorry if it's shitty also English is not my first language so excuse my wrong grammar, I think its kinda long so sorry if it bored you😭

words: 2k+

"Father please, you told me as long as I will help you at the court you wouldn't wed me to anyone then why are you doing this?" The second born princess" yell echoed throughout the room his older sister Rhaenyra tried to stop her from fighting with their father but the princess didn't listen to her.

"I know my dear but you can't live your life always at the court, you have your duty and it is to be wed to a man," Viserys said in a calm voice, after all, he understand why her daughter is acting like this she was in pure shock.

"Was that really the reason? or perhaps I have no use in your eyes anymore because Rhaenyra is now the new heir" Viserys and Rhaenyra looked at her in disbelief.

Ever since the princesses were kids the Tatria never showed any signs of jealousy towards Rhaenyra she already knew that she will be the heir to the Iron Throne that's why she just decided to help at the court as much as she can, she helped them transfer some products from Driftmark help her father with the councils she did everything so she wouldn't lose her use in this kingdom.

"You off to marry me to some creepy old bastard king, because if Nyra became the heir I will have no use anymore!" the princess yelled again.

"Tatria, let's not argue now there will be a feast happening for your brother-" Viserys was cut off when her younger daughter slammed her hand on the table in front of him.

"No, I want to know why you're suddenly doing this to me. I've been a good daughter to you! following your orders and sick rules! I do everything you told me to do!" she swallowed hard she feel that she can't form any words anymore without shaking.

"then be a good daughter and obey me! be a good daughter like your sister and have some use!" Their father snapped, and she leave the room with tears streaming down her eyes.

After three years of being a good daughter to her, this is what she will get? she will never let herself be trapped in a loveless marriage.

The young Targaryen was walking down the halls when an arm snaked around her shoulder she turned around and saw her older sister behind her was her knight, Ser Criston Cole.

"I'm sorry about earlier Nyra, I just can't stand the idea of a forced arranged marriage" She started and looks down at the floor while they were walking, she did feel guilty about her sudden burst out she could've handled it better then maybe her father wouldn't shout at her.

"You really do care how will father see you do you?" Said Rhaenyra she feels like her sister could hear her thoughts.

"Being a Targaryen is all I have Rhaenyra I'm no future queen like you in no time I will have no use anymore so having a good image in our father's eyes is a really big thing to me" Rhaenyra looked at her as they rode their horses.

Tatria's horse runs faster than them she is a skilled rider having to travel to different places gave her the benefits of being a great horse rider but that doesn't mean she's not also a great dragon rider, at a very young age her eggs didn't get to hatched no one knows why some say maybe she isn't destined to be one even their parents thought the same but the young princess don't believe them so when she turned 6 she tried to claim one of their old dragons Icaras everyone was shocked and worried for her when she landed in front of the castle while riding the big dragon.

Rhaenyra can see her sister's potential and how special she is some might not notice but she is very smart, she's a fast learner unlike her who is a slow learner, Tatria learns new things every month studying various languages, cultures, and such. She knew their father can't stop her from whatever she is planning no man can stop her after all a mad dragon cannot be tamed.

Tatria stopped in a forest to calm herself nature always makes her calm the sound of the birds made and the smell of fresh air is enough to ease her anger.

"no use" she chuckles passionless, her small smile faded when she heard a growl she looked around and saw a huge boar preparing to attack her, she tried to ignore it thinking it wouldn't hurt her but she was wrong it chase her and she ran.

fuck! how could I forget my dagger right now?

"Shit!" she shouted when it catches her and hover on top of her she tried to pull away but it keeps on scratching her dress she was holding its mouth to keep from biting her while trying to grab something she can defend herself with.

Finally grabbing a stone she almost dropped it when the boar bites her arm and shoulder tearing that part of her dress too, she held the rock tightly and slammed it on the boar's head, it dropped beside her she keeps hitting it until it wasn't breathing anymore.

"you will make a great gift for my brother" she laughed and looked for a stick where she can put the boar after she finished her small gift she rode her horse and go to the feast.

She finally arrived at the feast she walked around blood dripping down her broken dress the bite mark on her arm and shoulder was visible but she paid no attention to it, everyone was looking at her but didn't care.

"stop that" Harwin looked at his brother who was now glaring at him.

"stop what? " he answered while peeling off the skin of the rabbits.

"stop lusting over the princess" Larys his brother said not looking at him.

"She's just very amazing, seven hells I would do anything for that woman" Harwin sounds like a little boy, Larys made a face.

"She's crazy and a pain in the ass, some knights say that even the King can't tame her, she is reckless" Larys looked at Tatria she was looking for her family.

"Look at her, she doesn't look like a princess" Larys added.

"Yeah but she's hot" Larys rolled his eyes at his brother's answer.

"Don't tell me I didn't warn you, some say she's very fond of men who will submit to her" Larys smirked and leave his brother to grab more coal.

He watched her walk with the boar in her bare hand he needs to consult a maester and see what's the problem when him, and why it turns him on with this side of her, this is not the first time he feels like this towards the young princess.

Way back before when Tatria caught some guards trying to steal some of their products he remembers her pulling her sword and pointing it at the thief's neck.

"Those products you're stealing are for the people in my kingdom so I suggest you let that go or the only thing that will come back to your families are your heads" that's the exact words you said to them, everyone working for you knows how much you hate injustice.

"Harwin the goddamn rabbits!" He's brother shouts at him.

Tatria's attention was caught when she heard a shout when she looks at it, she saw Larys Strong talking to a guy he looks familiar but she doesn't know his name.

"Tatriea! Where have you been?" Alice her best friend slash her new stepmother and immediately ran to her, They are still friends even though she married her father she understands her as also a woman fighting to survive a patriarchial society she understands her.

"I'm great do not worry I have a gift for Aegon" Tatreia smiled and show her best friend the boar. It was a genuine smile Tatreia rarely smiles only when she accomplishes something she wants.

"You could've gotten yourself killed!" Alicent was worried she already felt there was something wrong the moment Rhaenyra came without you and when she heard that you and your father fought.

Someone pulled Alicent away from Tatreia it was her sister, Rhaenyra looked so worried and when she saw the bite marks on her sister's body she instantly panicked.

"Call the maester! get help my sister is injured! " Rhaenyra yells some knights tried to hold her but Tatreia refused.

"I'm fine, I want to give this to father a peace offering," She said and walked over to her father but Otto Hightower blocked her.

"Princess I think you should stay away from the King first you caused a scene here you should go to the tent and clean yourself" He whispered at her, Tatreia's eyes shut when Otto put his hand where the bite was a squeezed it. He and Otto never really get along after what he did to Alicent her hatred towards him just got worst

"Get out of my way," she said but Otto still push her away it was a soft push no one would think that he is intentionally hurting you.

You held his hand where he place it on your shoulder and took it off you "I will leave whenever I want, I'm not going to ask again Get. Out. Of. My. Way. " Tatreia moved forward and bumped Otto's shoulder.

She goes to his father and sends him a small smile.

"I came here to gift my baby brother, In Vale, it's lucky for babies to be gifted by wild animals and turn their fur into some apparel" Viserys looked at the boar his daughter was holding.

He knew its a peace offering not wanting to fight with her anymore he smiled at her and gave her a small nod.

"Thank you, my daughter, you can give it there to Ser Larys Strong he will take care of it" Tatreia nodded she went beside her father a give him a peck on his right cheek giving him some bloodstains.

"Now where is Larys Strong?" her smile has now faded finding the guy her father mentioned.

On the other hand.

"Come on brother! Just introduce me to her please I'm begging you" Harwin beg to his brother he knew his brother knew the princess he works for her before.

"Why me? I can't even talk to her without stuttering! I'm sure father could help you with that" Larys shrugged him off

He was about to beg again when the princess approached them, they both looked at her at the same time.

Harwin examined her, her dress has scratches like a lot you can see her arm that has a bite, and her shoulders god he can see her collarbones, her white hair that was covered with blood, and her face too.

He snapped back when the princess throw them the boar it was heavy, how did she manage to carry this?

"Father told me you will take care of that, Larys Strong right?" Her low and raspy voice and her strong valyrian accent are also visible when speaking.

"Yes, princess anyway this is my brother princess" Larys voice was trembling. Tatreia nod acknowledging his name.

"Tatreia the maester is here, he needs to look at your bites" Harwin tries his best not to show annoyance when they're interrupted but he can't do anything about it the princess needs to be healed.

"Nothing to worry sister" Her deep chuckle sounds like music to Harwin's ear.

Tatreia wrapped her arm around her sister's shoulder, Tatreia is younger but she's quite taller than Rhaenyra.

"Brother you're drooling" Larys teased him he push him away because of annoyance he didn't even introduce him properly.

"Fuck off"

Tatreia took off her clothes the maester looked at her bleeding arm and shoulder the only people in the tent were her, Rhaenyra, and the maester.

"The bites are a bit deep princess but they will heal soon when the wound close I suggest you apply this so you wouldn't get any scars from it" The maester suggest as he gave the princess a small circular container but Tatreia only refused.

"No, I don't need it maybe a scar would look good on me," she said Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and sit beside her.

"Men wouldn't like women who have scars," Rhaenyra said.

"Well if men don't want them maybe women would" she advised and teasingly raise her eyebrows.

Tatreia was always open to Rhaenyra about her preferences as she said before "who cares if it's men or women as long as it can give you pleasure why reject? "

"Whatever you say, anyways have you seen how Harwin looks at you?" Her eyes squint to what her sister has told her? Harwin?

"Who is he?"

"Seven Hells you were just talking to her earlier! Larys' brother Harwin "Breakbones" Strong" Rhaenyra opened a bit their tent and pointed at the man she called breakbones.

"oh sorry I forgot," she said, they stayed there for a while as soon as Ser Criston came and hand Tatreia her new clothes to wear, she wear them immediately and go outside.

She walked between Alicent and her father she asked permission if can carry baby Aegon, and Alicent allowed her.

"he seems to like you, look," Alicent said, Aegon was nuzzling inside your neck.

"Rhaenyra, come here look at your brother" Viserys invited her but Rhaenyra refused instead she told their father that she was tired and will go home.

"She just needs time, father" Tatreia explained earning a small nod from her father and a smile from the queen.

She knew Rhaenyra is having a hard time accepting everything after all Alicent was their friend and marrying their father after their mother died was her last straw, Rhaenyra also knows that Aegon might get in his way of inheriting the Iron Throne.

Days passed after the feast she and Viserys never opened up about the marriage as much as possible and proceed to go back to normal.

Tonight she goes with Ser Lyris to visit the City, this will be the first time she will visit their city she did once visit it but not the whole city her father forbids her from going in the city without any guards with her even now.

"The King told me to look after you princess, wherever I go you must be there too, trust me, princess the city is more dangerous at night," Ser Lyris said to her.

"Women are never safe, Ser Lyris," Tatreia said and walked past him.

"This kid is much worse than I thought" Lyris whispered to himself though he meant it not in a bad way, not in a good way either she doesn't hate the princess why would she hate the princess who helped them when they were in so much need

They arrived at the quarters of the City Watch everyone stood up when they saw the princess, confusion filled their faces, confused about what is the princess doing there.

"The King ordered starting now all of us will help Princess Tatreia in her work you will oblige everything she said," Lyris told the guards they all bowed to her, and she took off her helmet and her white hair revealed tied in a low ponytail.

"I'm sorry to disturb your knight but there are new products from Driftmark and Runestone that will be transferred here tonight and my men cannot bear all this, so I need your help Lord Royce and his ship will drop in the port and so is Laenors" she explained everyone is listening they wouldn't want to anger the princess.

After explaining they all traveled to the port to get the derivatives while riding her horse she notice a man knocked off his horse, and she immediately went to him and helped him stand up.

"Are you alright?" She asked she take the fabric from her pocket and helped the man wipe off the blood on his nose.

She looked at him and big seductive eyes meets her she couldn't tell if the man's eyes were brown or deep blue because of the night, but he looked familiar.

"Ser Strong right? You're Lary's brother?" the man nods he's still looking at her.

"You can ride with me I think you broke your nose, Ser we need to get you to a healer" she helped him stand up and go to her horse, Tatreia felt Harwin's arm around her abdomen she gulped and try to brush off the tingling sensation in her stomach.

"Maester, please check on him" Tatreia yells and she lay Harwin on the nearest bed.

She pulled back as the healer tries to check on him, she was just watching them check on him and when they were done the maester talked to her, he said it was nothing serious.

"Breakbones is used to this kind of accident," The maester said before leaving them. breakbones?

"How are you feeling?" Tatreia sat beside his bed.

"I'm okay now, I'm sorry for bothering you princess" he apologized, he can't even look at the princess without getting embarrassed.

The wound didn't hurt he had experience way worse but when Tatreia offered her the ride he took it as an opportunity now he's guilty because instead that the princess being in the port to talk with her partners she was stuck here with him.

"Nothing to apologize for, I'll just send a raven to Lyris that I cannot come tonight, I must stay here the maester can't look after you tonight he's child is also sick" The princess explained now he felt more guilty.

"You can go now, princess" Harwin insist.

"No I want to make sure myself that you're okay I can go there later" Harwin didn't fought with her anymore after all the Princess doesn't take no for an answer.

Tatreia just sat beside her reading the book the maester left and sometimes she would look at Harwin to check him but she would always catch him staring at her.

"you know it's rude to stare, Ser Harwin" Tatreia said without looking at him.

"So tell me do you fancy my sister?" Harwin's eyes widen.

"Princess?" Harwin asked

"I'm sorry I don't know how to start a conversation" The princess said and stood up, she already forgot what her older sister just told her earlier at the tent.

"I'm leaving now Ser Harwin, I'll go back tomorrow" She bow her head a bit and pat the knight's shoulder.

As soon as the Princess left the room Harwin released the breath he's been holding.

"God, she's truly a goddess" Harwin sighed all night Tatreia's face wouldn't leave his head and it makes him hard to sleep.

"Fuck sleep Harwin!" he said to himself.

A/N: I hope you liked it im sorry if its so long.

#harwin strong x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #criston cole x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #daemon targeryan #ser harwin #rhaenyra targaryen

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