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#daeron targaryen x y/n

omgkatherine01 · 1 year

Text

Moments to Memories - Masterlist

Summary: You're the oldest child of Rhaenyra and Laenor, however your true father was Daemon Targaryen. You are their and your grandparents' beloved child, and you had a very close bond with your youngest uncle, Daeron.

But it all changed when your uncle Aemond claimed a dragon.

Pairing: Daeron Targaryen x Fem! Targaryen reader

Warning: Childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, Incest (uncle/niece), smut, blood, death, Otto Hightower, Criston Cole, and Larys Strong.

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

Note: This is a requested story. Here

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 coming soon

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #prince daeron #daeron targaryen imagine #daeron targaryen #daeron x reader #daeron targaryen x reader #daeron targaryen x y/n #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #jacerys velaryon #luke velaryon #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #helaena targaryen imagine

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cambion-companion · 1 year

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tell me why i imagine sweet daeron having a little boy's crush on aemond's wife because she's so gentle and kind with him

i saw someone else's ask about how he wants to be just like aemond, not only out of admiration but because he thinks "if someone like aemond can get a wife like (y/n) then so can i if i'm like that!!"

and sweet boy copying his mannerisms, pulling her chair out at dinners before aemond can and even though the chair basically towers over him, she's coddling and gushing at how polite and thoughtful he is and he MILKS that

so it becomes a playful rivalry between aemond and him and she's just "it's like you're actually intimidated by your baby brother"

and aemond who's hiding a giant bouquet of flowers behind his back only to one up the little rose daeron gave you "absolutely not. me? be rivaled by the twerp? never-"

Hi!! Oh my god this is darling, I cannot wait to write for these prompts! Cute little Daeron is 4 years younger than Aemond...so we will say he's 15 during this. Adorable.

Aemond x wife!reader | Daeron learning from his brother | admiration crush | playful brother rivalry

"Thank you Daeron, you're so sweet!" You smiled brightly at the boy as he extended to you a bouquet of wildflowers. "Ouch!" A stinging sensation spread around where a sprig of green had touched your hand.

"Ah, stinging nettle." Your husband mused, eyebrow raised at his younger brother as you dropped the offending bunch of flowers to the ground. "An interesting addition, Daeron."

"Gods I am so sorry Y/N!" Daeron looked from your wincing face to his bouquet now scattered upon the stone ground in alarm. "I have gloves on...and a very mediocre knowledge of local flora it seems."

Aemond took your sore hand in his, placing a gentle kiss to where your skin was reddening and swelling. Daeron noted his brother's movements with a studious gaze.

"Let's get you to the maester, I'm sure they have ointment on hand for such an affliction." Giving Daeron one last severe look, Aemond swept you from the room, leaving the crestfallen prince standing alone chewing his lip.

Later that evening, your finger lightly bandaged and no longer hurting, you found yourself entering the dining hall on Aemond's arm.

Daeron took note of your entrance, waving to you enthusiastically and striding over, a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright? I truly apologize for my earlier blunder." He extended a single red rose to you, giving you a slight bow.

You took the delicate flower, trying hard not to let your amusement show, especially as you felt Aemond shift in annoyance beside you. "Thank you Daeron, that is very thoughtful. I am quite alright."

"No loss of limb yet." Aemond agreed, shaking his head at Daeron's earnest expression. "Though I cannot speak for yourself should you continue giving my wife flowers."

Daeron frowned only slightly before he gestured for you towards the dining table, sweeping your chair out from its place for you to sit. He bowed again as you carefully took your place, sinking into the welcoming cushion. You scooted forward as Daeron pushed you into table. He overdid it in his eagerness to help, and your midriff was pressed uncomfortably hard against the wood. You let out a slight "oof" as some air was expelled from your lungs and pushed back with your hands.

From your peripheral vision you saw Aemond take his brother by the scruff of his collar, forcefully seating the young man into his own seat and giving him a hard pat on the shoulder. "If you want to impress a lady, Daeron, I suggest resisting the urge to bisect her."

You hid your laugh in the goblet of wine you brought to your lips, pretending to take a sip as Aemond took his place beside you, his hand resting briefly atop your knee. "Did my oaf of a brother do any permanent damage?" He was only half-joking, the annoyance still evident in the timber of his voice.

"I may never recover." You jested, leaning into him slightly, turning your face to place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "He is simply trying to mirror what he sees you do for me."

"He's failing spectacularly."

"Aemond." You chided, taking a moment to make sure Daeron couldn't overhear. "He looks up to you. Clearly he wants to learn from you."

Aemond huffed, bringing his own goblet to his lips. He didn't answer you, seeming to sink into deep contemplation as he often did when something troubled him.

------

The next day was clear and crisp, the winter air still chill despite the shining sun. You descended a set of marble stairs to the room you usually took your luncheon in. To your surprise you found Daeron and Aemond within, deep in conversation with each other. Daeron was nodding and Aemond had his hands clasped tight behind his back. They ceased speaking as soon as you entered, looking almost guiltily at you.

"I hope you're not up to anything that will raze King's Landing." You teased, your skirts rustling as you moved toward the table.

You stopped, looking at the spread of food laid before you. It was all of your favorite things to eat and drink. A little sample of each treat you so adored. "Aemond?" You asked, not taking your eyes off the delicious array of delicacies.

"I arranged for your favorite foods to be brought up for your enjoyment." Your husband inclined his head as you finally looked at him.

"I brought some books I thought you'd like to read while you took your afternoon meal." Daeron volunteered, looking slightly guilty as Aemond shot him a bemused glare.

"That was so very thoughtful of you Daeron, thank you for thinking of me." You smiled graciously at the young Targaryen.

Daeron beamed.

You moved to Aemond, tilting his head toward you with a finger to his sharp jaw. "Thank you my dearest." You kissed him softly upon his plush lips. You moved your mouth to his ear, whispering so only he could hear. "Though you do not need to compete with your brother."

"Speaking of my brother." Aemond said loudly, turning to face Daeron, an impish smile on his curved lips. "I've arranged for you to meet with several ladies your age from notable noble houses this eve."

Daeron's face blanched. "I...meet...tonight?"

"Indeed." Aemond shook his head, chuckling. "You seem intent on practicing your courtship skills on my wife, it's only fair you get more experience with other women." He patted Daeron on the shoulder. "Though do try not to maim them too badly."

"I'd never!" Daeron spluttered, glancing at you guiltily. "Not on purpose!"

"Remember what I told you regarding..." Aemond started but Daeron waved him off.

"Yes, yes, no need to repeat it in front of Y/N." A faint blush painted the younger Targaryen's cheeks, causing your brow to raise as you looked inquisitively between the brothers.

"You're lucky Aegon hasn't gotten wind of what you've been up to." Aemond continued. "He'd give you unending grief."

"Helaena's given me some useful tips I think." Daeron looked at you. "She told me flowers and chocolates are a sure way to a girl's heart."

"Being interested in her and listening to what she has to say, what she's interested in, is also a solid start." You agreed, smiling knowingly at Aemond as his eye found yours. "Though chocolate does go a long way."

The three of you laughed, Aemond's arm snaking around your waist, pulling you against his side. Daeron watched each movement Aemond made around you with attention, his lilac eyes bright with interest.

"Don't go to Aegon for advice on women." Aemond warned suddenly, his face grave as he looked down at his younger brother. "And if he offers to teach you anything about them, you come to me instead. Understand?"

"Yes." Daeron nodded, looking mildly confused at Aemond's unexpected severity.

You squeezed Aemond's waist lightly, reassuring him with your presence. "All will be well. Daeron, you are a dashing young man who is sure to sweep the right girl off her feet in no time."

"Thank you, Y/N. I can only hope to be as lucky as Aemond."

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icarusignite · 1 year

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Hey,

Perhaps the second part could be about telling their parents that they want to marry each other and that the other women are told that he has chosen a Wife. Maybe Alicent and Otto has something against it. It would be cool to find out where all the letters went. Maybe Otto noticed how well his grandson and the reader understand each other and since he doesn't like Rhaenyra and her children, he ordered when the letters arrive in Oldtown to have them removed or something. Maybe the reader and Daeron could argue because she tells him that Alicent and Otto have always had something against her and her family but Daeron doesn't want to believe it because he loves his family. I just love drama. He could also says to her in anger that she and her brothers are illegitimate children, maybe he also says that in front of other people. But he wouldn't apologize at first and that makes her angry or something. But of course you can decide, it's just an idea.🫶🫶

I love your writing ❤️

Your reader ☺️

Like an old melody, my heart resumes | Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: So sorry this took a while. You asked for drama so here we are. I was listening to cinnamon girl while writing this so you can blame miss lana for the angst lol. Hope you enjoy <3

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Daeron x Fem! Reader | (angst, hurt/no-comfort)

When you and Daeron entered the main hall again, your fingers were entwined, and everyone could see the shift in your attitudes toward each other. It was evident by the smiles you kept sneaking each other.

"Are we going to tell them right now?" you mumbled nervously.

"Well, we have to so that these lovely ladies who have been gathered here don't hold out too much hope. After all, I am now a man spoken for," Daeron squeezed your hand, shooting you a wink.

"Yeah...but what if...,"

Daeron clicked his tongue, "No more what-ifs, my love. You're mine now, and I'm never letting you go."

A laugh burst out of you.

Approaching the grand table, Daeron's gaze sought out his father, King Viserys, who met his son's eyes with a curious smile.

"Father," Daeron inclined his head to show reverence.

"So my son, have any of the young ladies tonight captured your eye," King Viserys eyed your hand clasped in his son's.

Daeron took a deep breath, his voice filled with unwavering resolve, "My King, Lady Mother, I have chosen my bride, the one who has captured my heart."

Then he spoke your name, the syllables dancing upon his tongue, heavy with familiarity and tenderness. Your name was at home on his lips, in his heart.

The king's eyes twinkled with a mix of pride and affection as he sat up straighter, "Is that so?"

"Yes, sire."

King Viserys turned to you then, "And you, my dear, do you willingly accept this union?"

You turned slightly red, a fact that Daeron found adorable as he snuck a glance at you.

"Yes, Grandsire, I accept."

Queen Alicent, seated beside him, raised her eyebrows in surprise at the admission, but she smiled nonetheless, sharing a fond look with Rhaenyra at the thought of their children betrothed. However, Otto Hightowe'rs face immediately darkened at the news.

King Viserys, aware of the tension in the room, rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on the crowd.

"Lords and ladies, esteemed guests, I have joyous news to share! My son, Prince Daeron Targaryen, has chosen his bride, and I am delighted to announce their betrothal."

A collective murmur rippled through the crowd, curiosity and excitement filling the place. Then the hall erupted in a chorus of applause and congratulatory cheers, the sound echoing off the grand walls. Daeron exchanged a giddy smile with you, his eyes gleaming with happiness and relief, hand squeezing yours impossibly tighter. There was a bit of disappointed muttering from the various noble ladies who had hoped to ally themselves with the young Targaryen prince, but that didn't stop you from feeling safe within his hold.

King Viserys addressed the crowd once again, his voice carrying the weight of authority and affection, "Let it be known that Daeron Targaryen shall be united in marriage with my beloved granddaughter. May their union bring prosperity and happiness to our noble house."

Alicent, a radiant smile adorning her face, stood beside the king, nodding in approval. Rhaenyra, overcome with joy, moved to hug you tightly, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. Then she turned her attention to your betrothed whom she embraced just as affectionately. Your father on the other hand surveyed everyone's expressions and when he saw Otto's menacing glare aimed toward you, his jaw tightened, his grip on his goblet growing tighter as his eyes followed your movements protectively.

The rest of the evening wore on uneventfully. Although disappointed at their failure at securing a betrothal for themselves, the nobles were still eager to offer up their congratulations and remain on the king's good side. Eventually, as the hour grew late and the revelry began to subside as everyone retired to their respective chambers. You bid Daeron a tender farewell, still reminiscing about the dance you had shared only a short while ago, your first as his betrothed.

When you finally made your way to your chambers, tucked beneath the covers of your bed, you traced your fingers along your lips, still tingling from the kiss you had shared with your beloved earlier. Thoughts of Daeron filled your mind, and you couldn't help but smile in the darkness, feeling a little giddy.

You woke up the next morning, heart fluttering with excitement, eager to see Daeron once more. Your steps were light as you made your way through the corridors of the Red Keep, mind filled with plans of walking to breakfast with your beloved, relishing every moment spent in his company.

As you neared the entrance to the corridor leading to Daeron's chambers, a hushed commotion caught your attention. Curiosity tugged, and you couldn't resist the temptation to investigate. You tiptoed closer, careful not to draw attention to yourself, and discovered a partially open door through which voices drifted.

Peering through the crack, your eyes widened as you saw Otto Hightower, his normally composed demeanour shattered, engaged in a heated argument with his nephew, Lord Ormund Hightower. Their voices clashed in a crescendo of anger and frustration.

"Did you not do as you were told!" he bellowed.

"I did exactly as you said, Uncle. You told me to ensure that Daeron never got a single letter from Rhaenyra's bastard and I did. Do not blame me for your failed plans," Ormund returned just as heatedly.

"I did what I thought was best for the family. Daeron was supposed to focus on his duties, not be distracted by the words of that whore's daughter, and now all my efforts have gone to waste."

"The fault is yours. You could not keep an eye on him when he was right in front of you. For all the years he resided with me, he believed she had forgotten him, abandoned him in his absence."

"By the gods, how did this happen? How are they betrothed if you did as I commanded? Everything is ruined now."

You flinched at his words, eyes welling with tears. You quietly retreated from the door, footsteps echoing through the corridor as you grappled with your conflicting emotions. The letters you had poured your heart and soul into had been intentionally intercepted and it broke your heart to think of how hurt Daeron must have been in thinking that you had abandoned him. You made your way to breakfast alone, forgoing your initial plans.

As the breakfast hall buzzed with the clatter of utensils and the hum of conversations, your normally vibrant presence seemed muted. Even Daeron couldn't help but notice the change in your demeanour. Your eyes, which sparkled with joy the night before, now seemed dull.

Concern etched his features as he took a seat beside you near the end when the room had mostly cleared. Leaning closer, he whispered softly, "Is everything alright? You seem distant, not at all like yourself this morning."

You forced a smile, gaze momentarily flickering to meet his concerned eyes, "It is nothing. Just a restless night, I suppose. My mind has been preoccupied."

"You know you can tell me what's bothering you right."

"Yes. I know."

"Then what's wrong?"

You swallowed nervously, "Perhaps we might go somewhere else to speak of this. Away from prying eyes?"

"Of course. Anything."

As you both made your way to a more secluded corner of the space, your mind raced to figure out how you would tell him what you had found out earlier that morning. You wondered if you should even tell him but it was important that he knew the truth. That he knew that you would never have abandoned him willingly.

"So," Daeron raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his smile encouraging. "What's on your mind love?"

You took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact, and he stepped closer, finger brushing against your chin to tilt it up, meeting your gaze with unwavering intensity.

"I-uhm-there's something I need to tell you, about-uhm..."

"Go on."

"Right, yeah. So remember those letters I sent you, all those years you were in Oldtown?"

Daeron's expression shifted from concern to confusion, "Is this about the letters again? I am sorry for not responding to them, but I swear I never received them."

"Yeah, I know. I know you didn't receive them. That's what this is...I need to tell you something about your family?"

"My family? What about them?"

"The King's Hand, and Lord Ormund too."

"What do they have to do with the letters?"

"Lord Ormund intentionally kept them from you. He made sure that word from me never reached you. And it was under the orders of your grandfather."

Daeron's brows furrowed in disbelief, "You can't be serious. They would never conspire against us like that, against me. They love me. Lord Ormund is like a father to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration mingling with your determination to speak the truth now that it was out.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I swear I overheard them arguing this morning. They admitted to intercepting my letters to you, leaving you to believe I had forgotten about you."

"That's not possible. They wouldn't do that to me."

"But-but...I heard them with my own ears."

Daeron pulled away from you, his warmth leaving your side as he paced the room, running his hands through his hair in aggravation, "Well, you must be mistaken then."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"I-no...I don't know. All I know is that you must be mistaken. You have to be."

"Daeron, I'm not lying! I heard it with my own ears," the words stuck in your throat as you struggled to choke them out.

"Enough!" he thundered, his voice echoing. "I will not stand for any more slander against my family."

You flinched at the harshness of his tone and your lower lip trembled with the effort to keep the tears at bay, "I thought you trusted me."

"Not when you make up such preposterous lies and insult my family's honour!"

"There is no honour in keeping things from those you love. And I am not lying!"

"I will not listen to these baseless accusations, not from the likes of you!"

"And what's that supposed to mean? The likes of me?"

Daeron's expression hardened, his face reddening and his voice laced with frustration, "A bastard like you! What would you know about honour? What would anybody in your family know about honour, whores and bastards the lot of you!"

His words hung heavy in the air, silence enveloping the both of you as you simply stared at each other. The space the two of you occupied was not as concealed as you had first believed and several servants who were milling about stopped short at his declaration. The tears would not stay back, and now they ran freely down your face. Daeron winced at the sight of them, instinctively stepping forward as if wanting to comfort you. He raised his hands and then clenched them into fists before forcing them back to his side. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if to hold yourself together, to stop your heart from falling to pieces inside your chest.

"How could you...?"

"Listen-I..."

"No. No, I have heard enough," you gave him a tight smile. "I am glad you were honest enough to tell me what you really thought of me and my family. I appreciate it."

"That's not what I-"

"I am not finished...If that is how you really feel, perhaps I am not the person you should be marrying."

"What are you saying?" Daeron's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I am saying that you would not want me to taint your noble, honourable family's bloodline with my bastard-whore blood, now would you?" you let out a breathy chuckle. "Surely some of the ladies from last night's feast are still here, perhaps you might go visit your father and tell him that you would like to be betrothed to one of them instead."

You scrubbed your own tears off your face aggressively, taking in a deep breath. Daeron stepped toward you once more and this time you let him.

"Why would you say that?"

"And why would you say what you just did? Perhaps we both decided to let the truth of how we feel out this morning," you shrugged.

"That's not-" he sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are the one who started it. You are the one who came in here with your stupid petty arguments and accusations. I get it, you're upset that I didn't reply to your letters but blaming Lord Ormund for intercepting them is low, even for you."

"That's what you think this is about? That I'm upset with you for not responding so I'm making up lies to hurt you. Daeron, the last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt you, especially when I knew that you never could have gotten my letters. I just wanted to tell you so you didn't think I had abandoned you!" your voice came out broken and jagged.

"It still doesn't excuse the fact that you're blaming my family for something they didn't do!"

"I just-"

"Gods, I wish that you hadn't written to me. Maybe it would've been better if you really had abandoned all thoughts of me. I would have been better off without you and your lies!"

Daeron watched in horror as the words tumbled from his mouth. It was like watching himself in the third person. The person who was saying all these hurtful things to you, the one who was responsible for the startled hurt in your eyes, was a foreigner to him. His mind screamed at him to shut up, to stop speaking the awful things that kept falling from his lips as your expression grew more fragile. You had just told him that perhaps he should marry someone else and he was still insulting you instead of trying to make it better.

Why would I wish to be married to someone else? I am already betrothed to you. I don't want anyone else. I am sorry. Gods, I am so sorry. It just slipped out, and I-that is no excuse. I know it is no excuse but I am truly so sorry. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it.

Those were the words that rattled through his brain, the words he really wanted to say but the demon of cruelty had fully possessed him now and it was too late to halt its rampage or salvage the wreckage it had caused. To your credit, you let him finish his spiel and then watched him for a few more moments as he stood silently, waiting for your response, chest heaving with emotion.

"Say something already," he snapped.

Or maybe to you, it felt like a snap, because in his mind, he was still pleading with you.

You slapped him. His hand flew up to cradle his injured cheek, looking at you with tears in his eyes. There was something satisfying about that. About the way his cheek reddened and you swore you could see his heart breaking in the forlorn way he looked at you. Yes, it was satisfying indeed, after he had fully trodden on your heart moments ago with his heel.

"You called my mother a whore. You. Called. Me. A. Bastard. You called my siblings bastards," you punctuated each word with a stab to his chest with your finger and he flinched every time. "Maybe I should never have written to you after all."

"What?"

"You heard me. Perhaps you truly are better off without me and I without you. Perhaps we are not meant for a life together."

Daeron's lips turned downward and he nodded stiffly, "If that is how you really feel."

"It is clearly how you feel."

Something in his eyes screamed out an apology, something that you recognized because your next words addressed his unspoken apology and felt like they would crack his heart open and carve the marrow from his bones.

"I won't forgive you," you stated resolutely. "I will never forgive you. I fucking hate you and I never want to see you again."

Filled with equal parts fury and grief, you turned away, tears silently tracing a path down your cheeks. Several nobles gawked at you as you sped past them, blinking away your anguish. You knew the two of you had certainly made a scene and news travelled fast in the Red Keep. It would not be long before everyone will have heard of this spectacle and your broken betrothal would be the most talked of scandal for a long time to come.

You heard Daeron call out your name after you once more as your steps increased their pace, and with an aching heart you realized, your name no longer had a home on his lips.

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martelltyrellmont · 1 year

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ɢʟɪᴍᴘꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ

Summary: Where Viserys marries for the third time, upon learning that Alicent Hightower shows signs of Greyscale.

Part 2

My name is Arianne Velaryon, youngest daughter of Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys, Rider of Vemithor, third wife of King Viserys Targaryen, Mother of his last Son Daeron "the gentlest" Targaryen or also known as the Hightower bargaining chip or the treacherous whore

Note: two years older than Aegon, 13 and 14 years younger than Laena and Laenor.

Foreword

The Old, The True, The Brave.

Castle Driftmark - High Tide

2 years before

I could hear the waves crash against the rocks, in such a violent way that the walls rumbled, with my eyes half closed I knew what my destiny was, I was ready or I convinced myself that I was, exactly 8 moons ago the King had decided to marry again , the rumors pointed out that the queen had fallen from grace, she had Greyscale.

My father Lord Corlys offered my hand at minute one when the king announced his second marriage, as Aegon the Conqueror exercising the right to a second wife, until now I had been courted by the king, when announcing our engagement my family celebrated the victory, a victory to my base.

I always thought that I would marry someone Young, for example ser. Erryk Cargyll - a sigh took hold of my ribcage, lying on my bed, I only had the company of my lady Lina Mares.

Her eyes were violet like mine, we shared almost all the characteristics of the same hair color, except that my skin tone was lighter than the rest of Velaryon and her bastards, she looked at me the same way I looked at her, her gaze reflected melancholy and anguish.— I heard the rumor that Lord Corlys rejected his proposal, being a lower house than yours, my lady, it is also said that for this reason I led him to want to be part of the royal guards

Lina sighed, but continued— look on the bright side both the king and queen are each sick, if you care about being with the king every night, I don't think it's like that, remember that Aegon spent 10 nights with Rhaenys for 2 that It was happening with Visenya. — but Lina forgot the little detail Alicent was sick. — On the other hand, my mother informed me that Princess Rhaenys, I ask that I accompany you as your lady-in-waiting in Red Keep — the white-haired woman took my hand. — you will not be alone and I doubt your parents will leave you alone in that nest of vipers as you call it.

Just smile. "Thank you seven, there's only one more detail left, it's awkward that my stepson and I are only two years apart, remember what he said when they announced our engagement." He let go of my hand and we both sat on my bed.

Yes, and it was very rude of hers.— We sighed.

I didn't know how to feel about it and the thing is that Aegon from what little I know him was right, "He's my age, how is that possible, at least 5 years older than me", I heard him roar, looking at my father with disgust and to his, if I could do that I would have done it too, that same day Otto Hightower congratulated me, his look was disappointed, it is not strange he practically took the place from his daughter who at that moment was her the only one looking at us was a look of complicity, sadness, desolation but above all fraternity, she was my age when she had Aegon, then Helaena and Aemond, both children congratulated me warmly and coldly, respectively.

»»————- -ˏˋ : ♛︎ : ଂ————-««

A week later…

After that day, my life went so fast that I didn't know what day it was, the wedding was fast, embarrassing and the tournament was the bloodiest so far.

Erryk did everything possible to ignore me, the person in charge of my security was the one at the request of my father, it is worth saying that he strictly prohibited me from talking about that guard and our old relationship, on the other hand Aegon is kinder and more understanding, I can't say much about Aemond who rarely sees us, Helaena spends it in my chambers, both the king and I are in separate Chambers, on the other hand Alicent had asked me to speak two days after the wedding.

Lina, walk faster.— my dress was blue with black, my hair was braided, revealing a braid that reached my thighs, a small tiara with a shell was on my head.— wait.— I exclaimed at the moment of this catch up with me.— I hate nerves.— I looked at both sides of the hall.— If he found out about Erryk and me?, will they think he is here for me?— My eyes showed terror or something like that because Lina placed her hand on my shoulder.

Don't say that even in a whisper.— she hugged me, to then look at that guard who was 6 steps from us.— the walls hear and can misinterpret your words.

We separated and continued walking more slowly and laughing on the tapestries, lina stayed behind and that servant from Dorne, guided me to where Ella was, Alicent was taller than me, curly hair, reddish, green eyes, you could tell she was always she had been so beautiful, my predecessor, she smelled of jasmine and vanilla, she also had a royal guard, being. Criston Cole, she had seen him a few days ago talking to Cargyll, they both stayed outside the room.

Darling!” she exclaimed as if she were his favorite person, we were two meters away, for obvious reasons.

I looked down when he spoke to me, I stupidly bowed. "My queen, how has she been?" .- Stupid, I told myself, you are also the queen.

You don't need to do that, we're both queens.— Then I turned my gaze to hers, I could only think, what concept she had of me, perhaps this invitation was because she liked me or simply hypocrisy.— Sit down, they're bringing you wine .

"Do not eat or drink what the Hightowers give you", my father had warned me, before leaving, and it was that he did not hurt to take care of his youngest daughter, especially when a rival member is a carrier of a lethal disease.

My parents were of Valyrian blood, therefore I was too, but even so they did not want to risk it, it is understandable my father had made trips to Valyria so carefully, that his stories left me Horrified. — How do you feel about your life at home? .

Sitting at that table, I looked at the tablecloth which had a tower with a flame embroidered on it. "Very good, well I guess." A nervous laugh left my mouth.

The talk continued like this until I saw a collapsed Alicent. "To be honest, I wanted to ask you a huge favor." I just nodded my head and she continued. "Could you take care of Aemond and Helaena? My sweet little man is just a child who needs to his mother, but as you know I have this disease, he is a quiet but withdrawn child, while Helaena, she is my sweet girl, she loves insects.— She was a mother who cared for her children, seeking help to raise them.— As you know, the king ignores them.

I've seen little, but yes.— I interrupted her, by mistake.

I just smile, continuing. "You'll realize that the king only has eyes for his eldest daughter and grandchildren, he has abandoned my children so much." He didn't know what to do, Alicent had started crying. "This is more." It is evident that he is going to abandon them one more time.— His hand was on his mouth and nose revealing wound marks, "like mine" I thought to my miasma.

Alicent, don't worry, I can take care of your three children, the best I can, if I were in your place I would also ask for the same thing.— She looked at me for the last time, gratefully, she called one of her girls to give the order to take all the things of her three children to the wing where the king had accommodated me, sixth floor to the left, one floor below her, but above Rhaenyra who ignored me, with her children, except my brother and her It is worth mentioning that we both had extremely different ages.— I promise to pray for them and for you.— “Too much confidence” I reminded myself and I remembered my mother's scolding about the confidence that I dream of presenting sometimes.

Thank you my sweet queen.— We both said goodbye.

»»————- -ˏˋ : ♛︎ : ଂ————-««

Eight months later.

A month after taking care of Alicent's children and Rhaenyra's protests at this, Viserys had requested that the maesters check me and that's what happened.

Congratulations my queen, you are pregnant. — Of course my son was not created out of love, but obligation, but that did not matter that I was so happy about it, the bells rang day and night for two days, my parents traveled more frequently, They didn't like my closeness with my stepsons, but they tolerated it.

This can benefit us. — my mother told me. — you will not make the same mistakes as your predecessor and this is a great advance.

— I looked at my stomach, caressing it. — I know, only Rhaenyra keeps pointing me out as a traitor. — The last few months I had noticed the change of the heiress towards me, especially in my state and how I became so attached to her younger brothers. - On several occasions, I had to scold Laenor's children, because they made Aemond cry, she claims that I don't have to interfere. - I was furious, exalted. - But she can scold them. - I closed my eyes remembering the A bad moment that he had suffered the previous day at the hands of his stepdaughter/sister-in-law. — Aemond, in any case, has no mother, he sees her sporadically, the three of them are helpless, how could he abandon them.

Motherhood leaves you very sensitive.— The queen who never was responded, we both knew that Laena and I were polar opposites and that was what my mother remembered.

The weeks flew by until finally, my baby was born, it was at dawn, Viserys was the first to take it, naming our son Daeron Targaryen.

Sorry for my English 😰

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muqingswife · 1 year

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how i think modern!aemond looks like

note: english is not my first language, im from brasil i speak pt br português brasileiro and im using the translator sometimes, sorry for my mistakes

lets goooo 😋

first off all, his family would remain a monarchy, maybe like danish royalty (i read somewhere that the Danish royals have more political power than the British royals or something like that, and i honestly cant think the Targaryens giving up any power that they could have) and here we DONT have incest (at least not the ones that would be shocking in our current society)!!!! read my thoughts below:

viserys didnt die yet and still being the king

daemon is viserys cousin so she can marry daemon with "no problem" and shes the heir of the iron throne

the line of succession to the throne would be: rhaenyra, jacaerys, lucerys, joffrey, aegon and viserys (idk whos the eldest), aegon, helaena, aemond and finally daeron

he knows he wont be king unless some catastrophe happens and kills his whole family but still a little bit jealous

aemond takes advantage of being the 9th in the line of succession, since he has very "few" spotlight on him, so he can live a normal life like all of us mere mortals

uses his prince title when needs something (that includes the girls 🤭)

think im done about the political part of his family so lets move on to physical appearance and hc about him and his relationship with family

aemond doesnt have long hair like in hotd, his hair is more like tom or billy (personally billy is my favourite)

ewan smile is so pretty i cant 😭

def wear an eye patch bc dont have one eye, obviously he dont lost his eye on a fight about claiming a dragon, but maybe he fell on a shard of glass or lucerys pushed him into a sharp rock which caused the scar and pierce his eye (my poor boy 😓)

ATHLETIC BOY!!!!! im talking about both body and style, ewan practically only wears adidas and aemond being a mama's boy, coming from two rich families buys everything that is adidas clothing

and you guys see ewan in world on fire and his new photoshoot like bro his muscles are heavenly 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 (só uma chance ewan, pfv 😭

aemond smokes A LOT, i mean aegon get drunk every week (if he doesnt do it every day 🤷🏻) and helaena has her bugs collection, so why he cant do something he likes and help him to destress?

for a 100% sure hes alicents favorite boy and daerons favorite brother

daeron probably just thinks his brother is the best in the world, the bravest, the most beautiful and everything a child can think of their big brother (he also thinks the scar on aemonds eye is really cool and when he was a child, like 4 years, he took one of his eye patches and put it to look like aemond

and about alicent, just look at their hair in hotd, those are the most hydrated hair of the entire series!!! ok joke, aemond was a quiet child, never gave her much trouble and was the first child she could call "her own child"

aegon would be to the realm if something happened to rhaenyra before she sire heirs and we all know how his temper is ☠️

helaena in my hc is autistic, some autistic people dont like other people touching them and helaena would be one these

as a child, she would reject alicents hugs and affections, in addition to being very difficult to communicate with her

contrary to all that, aemond was a perfect child, he would be glued to alicent 24/7, wanting her hugs, kisses and affection, his mothers affection.

she was his confidant when he was suffering and crying, she helped him with the school activities that he had difficulty, she was the one who stayed by his side in the hospital when he lost his eye

and aemond returned all the love his mother gave to him taking care of her and being the best at everything he did, just to make her proud of him

its aemond whos sitting next to alicent when she cries worried about being attracted to women and wipe her tears, she feels guilty for doing something that is said to be "wrong" in her religion (alicent para meninas, rhaenyra is her girlfriend canon

now leaving the sad mood aside lets go to more aemond's hc + dating hc

vhagar is aemonds lizard and she has a HUGE terrarium in his room with everything and more a lizard needs.

he is studying politics, international relations, history or philosophy in college

probably his girlfriend (me and you obvious) would be on one of these classes too or something like that

the BEST boyfriend ever, he is super respectful and treats his girlfriend like the princess she will be in the future when they get married

romantic dates would be to fancy places that nobles frequent, like operas and ballet but aemond would also take you to a museum, library, dinner at a super expensive restaurant you like and of course, skiing in the swiss alps

if you like a sport or did one, he would be super supportive and take you to every competition you wanted to see/gonna compete in

aemond would spoil you no matter if you have money or not

have you seen a prada bag online? it will be in your hands the next morning

did you make a comment of a swarovski necklace you saw at the mall? he bought the necklace and one more set of jewelry

are you undecided whether to buy a Chanel or Dior perfume? no problem, the two perfumes will be on your table when you get home

aemond would be very insecure about his scar and eye, and really wouldnt think himself worthy of you

but you are here with him to tell him how important he is to you, how handsome he is and how much you love him, when he heard you say that, all his insecurities would go away

and he absolutely LOVES that you touch his hair, massage, wash his hair and make mini braids on it

anything you do he loves 💗

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omgkatherine01 · 1 year

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Moments to Memories: Chapter 1 - The Start

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Pairing: Daeron Targaryen x Fem! Targaryen reader

Please comment, like and share ❤

You were born nine months after the wedding between Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne, and ser Laenor Velaryon, heir to Driftmark.

You were the only one born between Rhaenyra and Laenor to have the Valyrian silver hair and purple eyes, but many believed you had been Prince Daemon Targaryen's true born daughter with Princess Rhaenyra.

You were born in King's Landing, with a long feast in celebration, as you were declared Rhaenyra's heir, in spite of you also being born a girl, your mother, Rhaenyra, stayed with the believe that the first-born child should inherit the throne, which to your grandsire, King Viserys I agreed with.

In the eyes of Viserys I, the Heir was Rhaenyra and after her you, who would take the name Targaryen once you will ascends the Iron Throne, to the annoyance of the Hightowers and some Lords of the Realm, who wanted your uncle, Ageon Targaryen, to take the throne, since they believe he is the right heir.

For your celebration, your parents had gifted you a dragon egg, and hoped soon it will hatch so you could bond with it like your parents did with theirs. And it did, but to their surprise and Viserys, the male dragon that hatched turned out to be looking like Balerion, the Black Dread that Viserys rode when he was younger.

For the first time, Rhaenyra was worried about a dragon, she was afraid maybe he wasn't the dragon for her daughter, considering it's one of the most dangerous dragons that can't really be tamed. She was afraid you couldn't control that dragon, and you could get hurt, or worse, get killed.

However her worry disappeared as she was observing you bonding with the male dragon as the time went by. She still didn't let you be alone with the dragon, or let along ride him as he slowly grow large. But after your sixth name day, Rhaenyra change her mind about her daughter's dragon.

When you and your four year old brother Jace ran off to play with your dragon, Hellfyre.

The dragon was in chains inside the dragonpit, which was upsetting to you since you thought the dragons should be walking around there freely.

When you saw Hellfyre been patted by one of the Dragonkeepers, you and Jace were about to walk closer when you were stopped by Queen Alicent's Knight, Ser Criston Cole. "Princess. You and the prince shouldn't be here."

"We're allowed to," the six year old you said. Hearing your voice made Hellfyre look toward you, and to tilt his head.

"Not on your own," Criston said as he shook his head. "Not without your parents. Now, let's go."

As he tried to pull you and your brother out of the pit, Hellfyre heard the both of you protesting and trying to get away from the Queen's Knight, the dragon thought that his rider and her brother were in danger, so he broke out of his chains and flew to attack Criston.

However, after only giving the Knight a bite on his armored arm, the dragon was calmed down by only you when you spoke to him in the Valyrian language that your mother taught you. The Dragonkeepers managed to put the dragon back to his chains as the situation was explained quickly by you to the now pregnant Rhaenyra, Laenor, Queen Alicent and King Viserys.

"He could have killed him," Queen Alicent said as you all walked to the King's chamber. "That dragon should be killed."

"No!" You said as you looked at your grandfather with a worried look. "Please, Hellfyre was just protecting me and Jace! He thought we were in danger."

"That's true," Jace agreed.

"It was just a misunderstanding," your father spoke calmly as he looked from the angry Queen to Viserys as he sat down on his arm chair.

"A misunderstanding?" the Queen repeated as she looked at her husband, "You don't actually believe that."

"Calm yourself," Viserys said, "From what I understand, the dragon simply tried to protect the children because he thought they were in danger."

"Well they weren't," Alicent said, "What if the next time that dragon will harm our children."

"He won't," you said and looked from your grandfather to your mother with teary eyes, "Please, don't let them hurt him."

Your mother placed her hands on your shoulders as she looked at her father and the Queen, "The dragon is not a threat to any of our children. Yours and mine. He is bonding with y/n, and she is his rider, his instinct is to protect her. That's why he did what he did."

Alicent opened her mouth to argue but Viserys cut in, "All right. All right. I understand that." He looked at you and Jace, "But, no more going to the pit by yourselves, am I clear?" You and your brother nodded quickly. "All right then, you may go."

You didn't miss the glare Alicent send as you and your family started to leave the chamber. You didn't knew why your step grandmother hated your family so much, but you didn't dare to ask the woman herself. Instead you asked your mother, which she told you about the time she and the Queen were best friends before she married your grandfather.

You heard someone calling your name behind you, and you all turned to see your uncle, Daeron, running toward you.

He nodded to your mother, "Sister."

"Brother, are you alright?" your mother asked with a small concern frown as she looked at him up and down to see if he was hurt.

"Yes," he answered, "I just heard that something happened at the dragonpit with y/n."

"Everything's fine," you said and looked up at your parents, "Can Jace and I play with Daeron outside?"

"Of course," your father said as he smiled down at you, "You will be called when your grandparents arrive."

You smiled happily and looked at Daeron, "Let's go." Jace reached for your uncle's hand and yours and the two of you led him quickly to the doors.

Taglist:

@lady-targaryens-world

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #daeron targaryen #daeron targaryen imagine #daeron targaryen x y/n #daeron x y/n #daeron targaryen x reader #daeron x reader

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peterparkersnose · 3 months

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A Tale of Two Eyes

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: trauma, mentions of suicide, mentions of Helaemond, toxic marriage, reader has established relationship with Aemond and they have children, reader is pregnant, marriage of convenience, political marriage, arguing, undertones of an abusive relationship, selfish Aemond, hate on the Blacks (love Rhaenyra tho, just for the story themes)

a/n woah I wrote?!?! Happy birthday Ewan ily mwah

summary Aemond's son and heir just met the same fate as he did all those years ago with Lucerys.

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 10 mins 11 seconds

That afternoon was a blur. Everything for Y/N has moved so quickly, yet so slowly at the same time. She had asked Ser Criston to fetch her sons, ten-year-old Daeron and six-year-old Aerion, for dinner. They had been playing out in the courtyard for a few hours. She had her three-year-old daughter, Visenya, sat and prepared to feast for the evening meal. Visenya wiggled in her seat, anxious for her brothers to join her to feast. The morning was rough on Y/N, as she was currently seven months pregnant with her fourth child with Aemond. Visenya had been a terror as well, as she has now taken to escaping her caretakers and seeking out Y/N specifically. Y/N was speaking to Visenya, trying to distract her from her hungry stomach and practicing her vowels when her mother-in-law, Alicent, came rushing into the dining room. The Dowager Queen looked frantic as she quickly came to Y/N’s side.

“It’s Daeron,” she spoke, out of breath. “Daeron?” Y/N asked. Alicent motioned for her to follow her, as she did not want to alarm Visenya. Y/N immediately left Visenya with their nanny and followed her mother-in-law quickly down the castle halls.

“What has happened?” Y/N asked, holding her stomach with one hand and walking as fast as she possibly could. “Aegon and Viserys…” Alicent paused. The names of Rhaenyra’s last two surviving sons. They have always quarreled with her and Aemond’s sons, and now she truly feared the worst.

“They have taken Daeron’s eye just as Lucerys did to Aemond years ago.”

Y/N abruptly stopped in the hallway, grabbing the wall for guidance.

“Excuse me?” she blinked a few times, angered at her mother-in-law for just dropping this knowledge on her. For the sake of her unborn child, she tried not to let her emotions run rampant.

For her first child, her first son, heir to the Iron Throne, and the beginning of the new Targaryen age has just been permanently maimed or killed.

Aemond never attended dinners anymore. The man Y/N knew when they were first betrothed was long gone after the results of the dance. Aemond could barely deal with the grief of his siblings, niece, and nephews. Y/N had always speculated a secret love affair with her husband and his now-deceased sister, Helaena, but she never approached the subject. He was never the same after Helaena’s suicide. Aemond had been a broken man since, even though he was living out his dreams. He was now the King. The Blacks were defeated, only leaving Rhaenyra’s two legitimate sons with Daemon, as they were too young to understand the effects of what they were born into. Alicent took them in against her better judgment.

So now, he sat in his office alone like he did most nights. The candlelight was dim and his wine glass was almost emptied. He sat hunched over letters, writing them to various Lords around Westeros. Aemond often filled his time with work so he could escape the horrors of his true life. It was pitch black outside and pouring now, as it had been hours since dinner was supposed to have happened. He heard a knock on his office door.

“Enter.”

He didn’t expect his wife. He straightened his posture and took off his reading magnifier from the bridge of his nose. He took in her essence. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Their marriage wasn’t ideal, but she had been essential for the success of the Greens in the dance, as their marriage brought House Targaryen together with one of the most powerful houses in Westeros. Aemond took a deep breath.

“My lady wife–”

His words got caught in his throat when he saw the blood on her hands. “Is the child all right?”

Y/N nodded eagerly to assure him that this wasn’t a complication in her pregnancy. “What has happened? Is someone hurt?” Aemond eagerly asked, standing up from his desk and striding over to her. “I-It’s Daeron…”

“Daeron?” Aemond replied, relief running over him that the issue wasn’t the child. Yet he worried for his heir. Y/N was shaking, Aemond grabbed her hands. “You mustn't freak.” she asked of Aemond. His brows furrowed. “Calm yourself, woman. Explain what happened.”

“Him and Aerion… got in a scuffle with Aegon and Viserys.”

Aemond’s grip tightened on Y/N’s hands. If it weren’t for the grace of her and Alicent, Aemond would have had those two children’s heads on spikes before they were old enough to realize their parents' crimes. “What prompted the fight?” he asked angrily. Y/N shrugged. “That–that is to be determined. I don’t want you to freak–”

“Do not tell me what to do. What is of Daeron?” he raised his voice to his wife. “He–”

Y/N took a deep breath and paused. She didn’t know how to approach this with her husband correctly and not trigger him from his past. Her hand moved to her husband's cheek, her fingers moving over the strap of his eyepatch slowly. “Do you remember?”

Aemond scoffed.

“Of course, I remember. You don’t need to remind me.” his lips pursed as he closed his remaining eye momentarily and sighed. “Why is this relevant?”

Y/N had no clue how to tell her husband this. She was expecting him to have the same reaction she and Queen Alicent were having.

“Our son just met the same fate.”

Aemond pondered for a moment, then turned around and brushed Y/N’s hand off his cheek. He returned to his desk. He felt sick, he had to sit down. Aemond didn’t fully understand the situation yet but feared the worst. He was silent for a great moment, hearing a small sniffle coming from his wife brought him back to reality. “What happened to Daeron? Do you mean to tell me he’s lost his eye? Don’t tell me he’s dead…”

“He isn’t. But Viserys scraped it out like Lucerys did to yours.”

Aemond slammed his fist on the desk, making Y/N jump. Aemond seethed in anger, thoughts running rampant in his head. After a long pause, he spoke. “And did you tell my mother yet?”

“She is with him as we speak.” Y/N replied, anxiously waiting to see where her husband's emotions ran at that moment. “Where is Aerion? Is he harmed?” he asked of his spare, who could likely become his heir at any moment. “Aerion is fine just… traumatized. He tried to go after Viserys but Criston pulled him away when he got to the scene.”

Aemond seethed, then suddenly threw his wine goblet to the wall. It smashed and scared Y/N. “Aemond–”

“Send Daeron to my mother’s chambers. Tell her I’ll be along shortly, I have letters to write.”

He didn’t even look up at his wife as he put his spectacle back on.

“What?” Y/N held her stomach with one hand, the other on her hip. She was confused. “You’re returning to your work?” She didn’t even get another word in before Aemond snapped. “Send Daeron to my mother's room at once!”

She was utterly shocked. How could he? Work? His son needed his father. The only person who could relate and help Daeron through this terrible time in his life… and Aemond chose to work? “Your son needs you!”

Aemond growled. “I’ll tend to him later. He’s going to survive, and I have work to do.”

Y/N was flabbergasted.

“You’re the only one who can help him understand. The boy is ten and just lost his eye! That is your son!”

Y/N knew she was fighting in a losing battle. But she had to plead for her son. He had been requesting his father for some time now. Aemond abruptly stood, walking to his door. He didn’t look at her once. “If you think talking to him will do him any good, I’ll do it. I’ll write my letters and come when I can,” he mumbled. When Y/N realized this was the best she was going to get, she decided to leave. As she was exiting the door, the child kicked in her womb roughly. She groaned and Aemond looked up to her, seeing her clutching her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said coldly. He watched her exit. She wasn’t expecting another word from him.

She could hear him before she saw him. Y/N entered Alicent’s chamber to see her son sobbing, clinging to his grandmother. Alicent brushed his hair softly with her fingers, her stare distant. Y/N could tell that Alicent had seen this story before, and she didn’t like the ending. The look of vengeance plagued the middle-aged woman's face. As Daeron heard someone enter the room, he spoke.

“Father?” Y/N’s heart simply broke then. Daeron was truly in a state of shock, he barely paid attention to anything but the throbbing sensation of the worst pain he had ever felt in his life on his face. “No, sweet boy. Your father…” Y/N caught herself. She couldn’t tell her son that his father refused to see him. No. It would simply break his heart and his spirit more than they already were broken. “I could not find him. The guards will notify him shortly when they find him.” Y/N moved to the bed, and Alicent moved so Y/N could comfort her son Daeron. Alicent gave her an honest nod and stepped into the hallway. Y/N embraced her ten-year-old in her arms, and he rested his head on the fleshy part of her arm. He was still holding a rag over his wound, so Y/N took the rag from his hand and switched it with hers so the boy’s arm wouldn’t grow tired.

“What happened to me, mother?” Daeron spoke softly. He tried to look up at her but failed to do so. Y/N held back tears. “It wasn’t fair, my love. Viserys will pay. I will make sure of it.”

Daeron shook in her arms. “I-I’m scared.” he admitted to her. A sob finally came from the boy again, and he stopped crying when she entered the room. He was trying to stay strong for his mother. He was already showing such promising signs of a good King, even at such a young age. “What will I do without my eye, mother? Do I still have a future, will the girls still like me? They’ll think I’m gross for sure, I just know of it–”

“My son.” Y/N cut off his rambles. “Of course not. We shall not worry about this now. You are a handsome boy, and already a great warrior.”

“But–” Daeron began again. Y/N shushed him. “No. Shh. You must remember your father has the same wound as you. And is he a great warrior?”

Daeron nodded. “And is he married?”

Daeron nodded again. “My sweet son, my heir. Do not worry. You will be the greatest Targaryen that ever lived.” Y/N spoke. She moved closer to her son. “Don’t tell your father or siblings I said that,” Y/N whispered, managing a small smile trying to bring some humor to the boy. He desperately needed it. But it quickly faded, as the child inside of her kicked again.

“Mother?” Daeron asked. Even in his pained state, he cared for his mother. What a good boy she had raised. “Do not worry. The babe is just wild during this time of night.”

Y/N ran a hand over her son's bloodied hair which had now dried. She held him close until he fell asleep. Aemond never came.

During the very early hours of that morning, Y/N had failed to find sleep. She paced her shared chambers with Aemond. He had yet to return. She grew angrier and more frustrated by the minute. And finally, as she was re-lighting the candles that should have been blown out hours ago, she heard the door of her chambers click open and then shut. She turned to her husband, who looked cowardly now, with an angered glare. “Where have you been?”

Aemond shrugged. Y/N scoffed. “Do not play this game with me right now.” Y/N approached him, he smelt of dragon sweat and the salty sea. “Did you just take Vhagar for a ride?”

Aemond sighed. “Yes.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the angered laugh. “You’re kidding me right now.” Aemond threw his boots from his feet against the wall. “I have my own ways of managing my–”

“Your son has lost an eye. Have you no heart?!” Y/N interrupted him. Aemond seethed silently, pausing. He then threw his jacket on the back of the couch. “I will see him in the morning.” Aemond answered tiredly. Y/N stared at him in shock. “I have no words for you.”

Aemond ignored his wife, moving to the closet. He changed into his nightly gown and his robe. He tried to get into bed, but Y/N was already sitting on the bed when he returned. “No. Not tonight.” she said sternly. Aemond scowled. “And why not?” Aemond asked with a sharp tongue. He was almost at his breaking point with her. Couldn’t she not understand his duties? His trauma from his past? How selfish of her…

“Why not?!” Y/N yelled “Your son has just been maimed for life and you refuse to see him! What kind of father are you?” This statement set Aemond off. All the anger, hurt, and hatred boiled over within him. He tried to keep it in for the sake that he did truly love his wife, but she failed to understand him over the years like this. Aemond took a deep breath. “Don’t you get it? I have been struggling for fucking years! Do you think I want to see my son, bloodied and broken as I once was at his age? No, you daft woman! I wish to be alone. You are incessantly bothering me and I am sick and tired of it!” he lashed out at his wife. Y/N sat in bed, tensed at his words. She didn’t know how to reply. The realization that the reason Aemond didn’t visit their son sank in; he simply did not know how to. “I cannot look at the mirror of my old self in him! For Gods sakes, he already is a copy of me! Now with this…”

Y/N took in his words. She saw him tearing up. “Aemond–” she attempted to speak. He cut her off. “I will have that child sent to the wall along with his blasted brother,” he spoke angrily. “Do not try to talk me out of it either. I am King and I have made my final choice. I have spared their lives when they should join their bastard brother Lucerys in Vhagar’s belly.”

“But your son–” “He will live. You cannot coddle the boy. He must grow strong.”

“How could you say that?” Y/N answered. Aemond shrugged. “My father did the same, and I will follow.”

Y/N couldn’t believe her ears. Viserys was a terrible father to Aemond and his siblings, favoring Rhaenyra. “You know damn well that if Viserys still lived, he would pardon Rhaenyra’s son and blame Daeron somehow–”

“THAT ISN’T THE POINT!” Aemond snapped at her. He knew how terrible Viserys was. He knew how damaged his father had made him. But he was the man he was now because of Viserys, and he would never be the same happy little boy he was before the loss of his eye. And now that the same had just happened to his son, his heir, he couldn’t deal. Y/N watched him in horror as he turned to violence, smashing one of the vases in the room. She held her stomach, fearing her husband in his rage. After Aemond realized what he had done and how he had scared his wife, he stopped. Aemond’s yelling turned into sobs. He collapsed on his bed. Y/N warmly opened her arms to embrace him, despite being terrified of him seconds ago. Aemond clung to her and her baby bump for dear life.

“I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry…” he whimpered, burying his face in the crook of her stomach under her breast. He was shaking. Y/N was too stunned to speak, but she spoke softly. “I know.”

She was furious at her husband. But the effects of the dance had ruined him. This wouldn’t have happened twelve years ago when they wed. They both had to re-learn each other–him with his trauma, her with her dedication to being a mother and a Queen. They struggled too often. But at solemn moments like this, when Aemond calmed down, they just held each other. The truth was, they were just two scared kids in this world. Thrown into the grasp of something neither of them wanted or intended. And that is how they stayed the rest of the night–trembling in each other’s arms, afraid of what the future held for them.

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howdoesagrapewrites · 6 months

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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈𝐕

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, again, Daemon is violent

Taglist: @faesspace

>Jacaerys had come to terms with his status as a bastard, even though it was never to be said out loud

>Laenor was still his father, even if not biologically, he was the men he called "dada" with his first words, and it would remain that way for the rest of his life

>This made him closer to you, your situation was different, as everybody knew you were a bastard, and you were not to inherit anything

>He felt like he had to prove people wrong about him, so he overexerted himself. There was little you could do to stop him, so you contented with staying by his side in the library, late at night, falling asleep to his voice practicing high valyrian

>In these nights, you likely had little Aegon or Viserys on your lap, because they'd cry until they were put to sleep only by your or their mother

>Jacaerys would revel in this image, you peacefully asleep, holding babes, your silver hair caressing your cheeks

>He could sometimes allow himself to imagine what if the children you were holding were his, if you could be his queen. If he could kiss you and rut against you, if he could suck your nipples until milk would come out

>But he was always quick to dismiss these ideas, you were forbidden fruit, and the last thing a bastard king needs, is a bastard queen. His mother had gone through hell and back to uphold his claim to the iron throne, and he would not disappoint her, no matter how desperately he needed you

>And even though, he was ashamed to admit it, he was scared of his step-father. There was one specific memory he would always go back to

>He was a young man, maybe a little older than you. And he had come to Dragonstone while you were in King's Landing with Rhaenyra. He had come bearing expensive gifts and displaying a beautiful crimson doublet with embroidery details in gold and plum

>He had spoken flowery promises of old alliances of his house with the conqueror, and Daemon's face was reflecting his achingly strong boredom and weariness, demanding him he speak whatever idiotic trade he had in mind. That's when the lord said he'd be "most delighted" to present himself as a suitor for lady Y/N. Daemon didn't respond, he let the awkward silence seat, he let him marinate in anxiety. He then took his dark sister and cut the poor boy's head off. He told his guard he'd be spared if he returned to tell the tale, that no one should try to approach his firstborn daughter.

>"Nobody likes a peeping Tom" he shouted to Jacaerys, who was hidden watching the scene

>He still sometimes thinks of how easily his head fell off his neck, how quickly it did

>So he knew Y/N couldn't be his, not now not ever. But he still hated to know there was one person that Daemon could not scare off

>Jacaerys felt lucky he could see your metamorphosis from a girl to a maiden in a first row seat, but this change meant that one day you'd leave, and he'd have to get a wife, a proper wife for a king

>But that person that was not scared of Daemon, also didn't have that problem. He was talking about Daeron Targaryen

>Despite the collective best efforts of the Velaryon brothers, you still talked to Daeron regularly, fortunately, not as much now that he was in Oldtown, but still too much for their liking

>Lucerys did not realize the puppy crush he had on you, thinking he just saw you as his older sister, but he was on board with anything that meant sabotaging your possible paramours

>So they were incredibly frustrated when they all had to travel to King's Landing, and Daeron was going to be there

>Lucerys used Daeron's presence to distract himself from the fact that his grandsire could die, and that that was the real reason why they were there, for him to inherit Driftmark

>This was the first time in years you'd actually spend time with Aemond, as you would avoid him everytime you visited

>Dagahrion was too large for the dragon pit, so he stays in a cave in Aegon's hill

>Alicent ran to hug you, Rhaenyra stood there, silently judging her

>When you went to see your uncle Viserys, it was heartbreaking, he called for you, and you kneeled at the edge of his face, so he could see you clearly. It took him some time to recognize you

>"Y/N... She's nothing but an infant, I know she must be playing, but I'd like to see her"

>You patiently explained, until he could remember you, you saw a lonely tear when the realization of your age, and the pass of time had hit him

>You got into an argument with your father when he accused Alicent

>"Can't you see she just wants to have your trust to whore you out to his depraved sons?!"

>"Are you one to talk about depravity, father?!" You shouted, offended and angry at him

>"I am one to talk because I know exactly what goes through the heads of men like that, and I know exactly the type of woman that bitch is"

>"What are you scared of? That someone might treat me like you did my mother?!" You are a dragon, and you spit fire. Your father goes quiet, not out of shame, but out of astonishment. He had waited so much time to see himself in you, he thought that your lack of ill intentions was what made you perfect, but it was not. Daemon would enjoy seeing more of this, after all, it would be laughable if an innocent, irreproachable maiden rode a dragon like yours

>Daemon smiled at you and left the room, leaving puzzled and embarrassed at your words

>Rhaenys and the twins were second to greet you, your sisters had missed you so dearly

>They excitedly spoke of all that happened, and how much they missed being with you, you spent an hour in the gardens before you were interrupted, to go to Lucerys' hearing

>After catching up, Rhaenys left you to have "girl time" with them, they hugged you once again, and you could swear Rhaena left a kiss on your collarbone, and Baela's hands wondered a little too low from your back to your tailbone

>The announcement of the marriages had complicated reactions, you could see it, but you were glad the family would remain together, strong

>You hugged Lucerys when Vaemond yelled for all the realm to hear of his accusations, and you saw your father smiling at you and Rhaenyra once he had sliced Vaemond Velaryon in half

>During dinner, you sat between Jacaerys and Baela

>You were pleased to share a table with your family, it had been so long since you last did

>Aegon's unsavory comments made you cringe, but you sweetly smiled when Jace and Baela defended you, Alicent and Daemon were glaring daggers at him

>When it was time for the toasts, you looked at Helaena with sadness, thinking of how miserable Aegon had made her

>You toasted to your uncle Viserys, Viserys the peaceful, who had earned his title as protector of the realm

>Aemond kept looking at you, you could not decipher his expression, what he wanted from you

>You danced with Daeron and Helaena, Rhaena then joined, with her pentoshi grace and coquettish moves, she had always loved dancing the most out of you three

>The tone completely changed once Aemond decided to toast to his nephews, the three strong boys

>Before Jace could go to punch him, you spoke up

>"Say what you mean, cousin" you taunted

>"It was but merely a compliment, don't you believe your step brothers to be strong?'

>"I believe my king ordered to cut off the tongue of everyone who would insinuate or reference the foul rumors spoken against your future queen and king"

>"That was the day I lost my eye, was it not, dear cousin?" He spoke with a voice that made you want to recoil, it was frankly disgusting

>"It was, if I were you I wouldn't want to become Aemond One Eye and no tongue" you could almost feel your father's approval as you spoke poison

>With all the noise and stress, you felt your knees start to fail, you could see Daeron was holding you

>Aemond walked towards you before being stopped by a punch from Jacaerys

>After seeing Jace come to you, you blacked out

>Of course your fainting was attributed to being a young maiden in the presence of violence, but you knew something was strange

>Though it ended in a bitter note, you knew your spell was beyond psychological, you felt sick, maybe it was the food

>The maesters said you were not fit for travel, nor boat less dragonback

>Daemon refused to leave you on King's Landing, trying to sneak your asleep body out of the castle to take you with him on top of Caraxes, but he was discovered

>When he inevitably had to go, he left you in Misarya's care, had you wake up and be unable to travel back to your family, she would be rewarded handsomely to take you to Dragonstone

>The night prince Daemon left, was the night Viserys the peaceful, first if his name, died

#dragon jaws #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere targaryens #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #daeron targaryen x reader #daeron targaryen #rhaena of pentos #Rhaena Targaryen x reader #Baela Targaryen x reader #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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fl3shm4id3n · 1 year

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𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓐𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓟𝓲𝓮𝓬𝓮

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

Tw: platonic, angst, child neglect, medieval themes?, underaged drinking , second child syndrome, mentions of marriage, some things may be repeated from other fics.

Author’s note: I wanted to do a fic of based on Targaryen! reader’s somewhat pov involving her and her relationship with Alicent.

You never understood why, why didn’t she love you. It felt as if she was forced into loving you. Ever since you had been brought into this world, your mother just handed you straight to a wet nurse. You and her never had that skin to skin contact all mother’s did with their children. Your siblings had that contact except for you.

As you grew up, you wanted to be with her, you wanted to spend time with your mother. You’d be the one to chase after her and hug her, but she never hugged you back, she just stood there, waiting for you to let go of her. As well as saying that you loved her, but of course, she never said it back.

She also could not bare looking at you, when she looked at you for a while, she’d turn away in displeasure as if she she hated you. Was there something wrong? Why did she not look at you with love the way she did with your other siblings.

You noticed how loving she was when it came towards Helaena, Aemond and Daeron. Aegon and you were the children that she seemed to despise out of the five of you. Alicent loved her three golden children more than the black sheep. That’s how you and your brother had grown a bond with each other.

Aegon had began to bring you along with him to a tavern one night, he thought that he should introduce you into the liquid that takes away once sorrows, alcohol. At first you didn’t like the sour and bitter taste of the liquid but it made you feel better after having many cups and cups of ale. That’s when you knew that alcohol will be the only thing to keep you happy.

That same night you had shed tears, you were thought to always keep in your emotions but tonight, you were no princess, you were just Y/n. You cried and cried until you no longer had tears in your eyes.

Since your mother had no interest in having a relationship with you, might as well do as you pleased. You began to have reckless behavior, such as swearing, having unladylike manners when it came to others, pestering the Septa when she came to teach you and your sister along with messing with the servants from time to time.

When it came to that, Alicent would call you out on your behavior along with your grandsire Otto. Majority of the time, you acted out is to get her attention. Once you had grown much older, she would not say one word to you unless it was a good morning, good after noon or a good night. She wouldn’t even talk to you during dinner, the only one you had talked to was your siblings.

What made her upset the most was when you had cut your hair like Aegon. She hated the fact that one you were acting improper and now you looked improper. She scolded you on how princesses must keep their hair long since it was the Targaryen thing, though your mother was no Targaryen, and neither was Otto.

The day that Daeron had left for Oldtown, she was sad, this made you wonder if you ever left somewhere far, would she be upset like she was with Daeron? Possibly not, you think she’d be happy with you out of the picture. You had mentioned to her your thoughts on going to see your Uncle Daemon and his family, but all she said was that you could do as you pleased. She didn’t even try to stop you or get you to think about it like she did with your brother.

Your grandsire had almost sent you away to some Septas to straighten you out, but you had threated that if they sent you away, you will do whatever it takes to bring their reputation down the mud, they took your threat seriously and they left you alone.

When it came to marriage, Alicent and Otto had tried to wed you to some noble from a noble house, but you had scared off every potential suiter. They still tried into getting you married to someone but again you scared them off again.

They just gave up, they gave up trying to basically send you away, just felt as if they didn’t need you at the moment but eventually you’ll come to good use.

The night Aemond had lost his eye, you weren’t there like everyone else, you felt as if you weren’t needed since you aren’t really important in that scenario. When you saw what the Velaryon boy had done to your brother, you didn’t really gave much interest. Of course your mother was upset that he didn’t get any justice, why wouldn’t she be? Luke had mutilated your brother’s organ. If it were you she probably wouldn’t care if you had lost an eye.

As you began to grow into a woman, now you noticed on why your mother could not bare to look at you. You did not have any of her features, but the features of the person she once loved dearly, your sister Rhaenyra. You shared her face structure, her nose, lips and the shape of her eyes. You both looked identical.

You might of got this trait from your father Visarys but who knows, you looked like you belonged to Rhaenyra, you looked as if you were her child instead of Alicent’s child. It would have been better that way.

You saw how your older sister treated her children, with love and had thought them with care. Meanwhile Alicent had treated you all not so loving but more like brainless puppets to follow her every command, she was only affectionate to her favorite children.

When the war had began to approach, now they needed you, they needed as many allies to help them protect Aegon’s claim. Why not offer your hand in marriage when it came to a very important house that will help them win the war.

Now that you were grown and full aware of the people you were surrounded with, your mother now wanted to have a relationship with you. You knew full well that she along with the help of her father, she’ll try and manipulate you into being on their side, to support a stolen claim.

Of course, you refused to be involved with her, you knew what your mother was capable off, she was capable of many things. Those being of murder, she may not be the one doing the killings but she sends out others to do her dirty work. Others can play the fool but you were not.

You still remembered the day of Aegon’s coronation, how she had tried to sweet talk you into supporting her along with beginning to act like a proper lady when it came to getting married.

What got you off guard was when she hugged you, she hugged you like you had hugged her when you were little, but just like her, you did not return the affection. Along with when she claimed that she loved you, you just stayed silent.

She never wanted you since the beginning, so why does she want you now? Of course, you were just another piece for her to use in her game.

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e1e4n0r5 · 5 days

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King!Aemond x Queen!Rhaenyra-Daemon Daughter teaser

You stared at your grandsire Corlys, incredulity marking your face. Was this honestly his plan? He genuinely thought that not only would it work but that you would agree to it? Agree to marry your kinslayer uncle Aemond and end this godsforsaken war?

"It's the only solution, Y/N," he chided, albeit softly. "There has been too much death, on all sides. The people of the Realm need a resolution, they need this war to end."

"So you think to marry me to the man who murdered my brother, my grandmother, and my father?"

"Have you forgotten how you killed my brother Daeron and his dragon?" Aemond challenged, speaking for the first time since the meeting gathered. Until then he had been sat silently in his chair, twirling the tip of a stiletto dagger into the wooden arm of his chair.

Corlys banged his fist on the table to silence your retort, though you had none. You did kill Daeron, burning him and his dragon Tessarion alive with your own mount, the fearsome Cannibal. In the heat of the battle, you had cried out, 'Dracarys!' and the smaller she-dragon and her rider, your own uncle, had been consumed by the flames. You had been so shocked that you hadn't been able to stop Cannibal living up to his name and consuming what remained of Tessarion. The sounds of your mount's teeth chomping down and ripping apart the other dragon still haunted you.

"Stop it, both of you."

"Lord Corlys is right," Alicent spoke up. "All of this quarrel must cease. You two are the only ones who can resolve the situation we find ourselves in now."

"Or - just as an idea," you started sarcastically, "I, as the eldest and sole-surviving child of the true Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, rule in my own name, as I should always have done."

"I thought your mother named Jacaerys as her heir?" Aemond taunted.

Your heart cracked. "My mother was giving birth to her stillborn daughter when she made that proclamation. She wasn't thinking clearly."

He scoffed. "Maybe she thought a bastard son would still have been the better choice over a bastard daughter?"

#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #angst

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icarusignite · 1 year

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An Eye for an Eye (part 24)

A/N: Gosh all this angst. I just wanna give my babies a fluffy chapter with some funky ballroom dancing and stuff T_T As usual, share your thoughts in the comments <3

Word Count: ~4k

All chapters: MASTERLIST

"Daemon wait!"

"Should we do it here or should we let our Queen witness his death hmm? Shall I start with his head or with his limbs? We could send his usurper brother his severed head and then bit by bit, the rest of him. First his legs maybe, and then his torso. And lastly, we shall send them his hands. Wasn't that what you brought back from Storm's End, Lucerys's hand?"

Daeron's eyes squeezed shut and Daenys felt sick at the reminder of Lucerys. She should have been angry but she only felt nauseated at the thought of dismembering Daeron.

"Daemon...please..."

"What is it my little dragon?"

"Let us not kill him just yet."

"What did you say," Daemon's voice was dangerously quiet and Daenys hurried to explain herself.

"He will be a valuable pawn. A hostage. Keep him here and use him to bargain with the Greens. Return him to them piece by piece if you wish but do not kill him now. It would be a waste. You have no idea how difficult it was to acquire him."

"What better way to strike a bargain than by giving that Hightower cunt her son's body. If Aegon abdicates the throne, perhaps we may be kind enough to deliver his brother's body so that they may give him a proper burial."

"It would look bad for Mother," Daenys continued frantically. "The Greens can claim that Luke's death was an accident, blame it on the weather or whatever pathetic excuses they wish to come up with. They had no witnesses. If you kill Daeron now, all of Westeros will know Mother had him slaughtered. It will not earn her more supporters."

Daemon narrowed his eyes at her, "Why are you so desperate to save his life?"

"It is not his life I care for, it is Mother's reputation. I do not wish to sully it. Trust me, he serves you better as a captive. If the Greens are ever able to take one of my brothers as hostage, they will hesitate to hurt them, knowing that a son of theirs is with us. If he does not prove useful I'll kill him myself, I promise."

Daenys could see the gears turning in Daemon's head. He was after all also a man of strategy. She just hoped what she had said made sense to him. Eventually, he nodded.

"Hmm, maybe you are right. I may have been somewhat hasty with my actions. I suppose we could keep the prince here as our guest. Perhaps that will convince his brother."

Daenys let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding but Daemon's next actions made her stifle a scream. He had raised his sword to the boy's eye.

"Should I take out his eye though? As payment for yours?"

"What? No!"

"Why ever not? It seems like such a terrible waste, you did say it was challenging to bring him here. Why not shed a little blood?"

"No Daemon. The matter of my eye is my quarrel with Aemond and him alone. I will deal with him myself. I do not need you to settle my debts for me. I wish to do it myself."

"Of course. How could I forget, you are just like me after all. Very well, you may make your own enemies bleed. But I will mark him as our hostage I think, and take a souvenir to send to his mother."

Daemon wrenched Daeron's head back and lowered the sword to his cheek, drawing a line in blood down to his chin. Daeron winced and his hand came up to cup his injured cheek. Daemon then grabbed a fistful of his hair and sliced it clean off. The young prince looked at him offended at the loss of his hair.

"Whatever did you do that for?"

"To send to your family of course. With a promise that if they refuse to surrender, the next time I send over something of yours, it would be a far bloodier affair."

Daeron scoffed, "Targaryen hair all looks the same. They are not foolish enough to relinquish the throne for a few strands of hair."

"Perhaps you're right, should I take a finger instead?" Daemon sneered. "Will that be convincing enough or will I have to take your face."

Daeron took a fearful step back, bumping into Daenys in the process. Daemon sighed and shook his head.

"He is your responsibility now Daenys. Get him out of my sight before I do take his head."

"Oh...okay."

"You should be grateful to my daughter here, for without her counsel I might have killed you as soon as I laid eyes on you. In a most painful manner at that," Daemon aimed a final menacing look at the young prince before leaving.

Daeron whirled toward Daenys, clenching his fist to hide the tremble in his fingers, "You think I'd be grateful to you? You're the reason I am even here. Do not think that you are a saint because you prevented my own uncle from killing me when it was you who delivered me to him in the first place."

"I do not want your gratitude you fool!"

"Good, you shall not receive it."

"Whatever...come now, I had the maids have a room ready for you."

"I am not going anywhere. You cannot make me."

Daenys sighed exasperatedly, grabbed ahold of his arm and started to pull him down the castle hallway, "You can come willingly or you can be dragged. Your choice Princeling."

Daeron glared at her viciously but begrudgingly followed, his arm still in her hold. On the way to his assigned chambers, their paths crossed with Daenys's favourite knight.

"Ah, Ser Atticus, just the person I wanted to see," Daenys smiled.

"Yes, princess? And oh, you did something to your hair?"

"Ah yes, I forgot, it's a long story. But I do have a very important task for you. Would you mind getting a maester? Bring him over to the room across from mine, as you can see our friend here is hurt."

Ser Atticus's eyes fell on the injured prince sullenly following the princess and raised an eyebrow in confusion, "And who exactly is your new friend princess?"

"This is Prince Daeron Targaryen."

"Oh."

"Yes, now please hurry with the maester. I would not want his wound to get infected. And if you could, ask the maester to bring along milk of the poppy. Plenty of it."

"Milk of the poppy? The prince's wound does not look bad enough to need that surely?"

"It is not for him, it is for me."

"Very well princess."

Daeron watched the knight depart, "My chambers are across from yours? What no dungeon?"

Daenys scoffed, "I'd like to keep you where I can see you. Plenty of opportunities for aided escape from the dungeons I'm afraid. And besides, I will not have it said that Queen Rhaenyra keeps her hostages in poor conditions."

"Oh like the fact that she kidnaps children from their homes is not bad enough?"

"What did I say about speaking about my family with respect? You may say what you want about me, curse me, swear at me, whatever, but hold your tongue regarding those I love or I'll cut it out."

"Those you love huh," Daeron mused sarcastically. "Does that include Helaena or my brother? Or was that all a lie too?"

"Do not speak Helaena's name," Daenys burst.

Daeron came to a halt and yanked his arm away from her.

"I will speak her name all I like. She is my sister. It is you who doesn't deserve to speak her name."

"I love Helaena..."

"No, you don't. It was all a lie. Tell me, was it easy pretending that you liked us, pretending that you enjoyed spending time with us when really you were just waiting for a reason to leave? Was it easy feigning love for us, being loved by us in return, and then betraying us like this?"

"What are you even talking about? It is not me who is the traitor."

"Forget it!"

"No, I will not. Have you any idea what your family has done? Your mother, grandfather, and brother plotted to steal my mother's throne. The crown that rightfully belonged to her. And Aemond murdered Luke."

"What...?"

"Oh yea, your mother didn't mention that in her letter did she? Aemond Targaryen and how he received the title of Kinslayer. Did she tell you how he killed my brother in cold blood?"

"No... she didn't... I had heard court gossip in Oldtown, but I didn't...I didn't think it was true. Aemond would never," Daeron's voice was soft.

"Yes he would, and he did. So don't you dare say that your brother ever loved anyone but himself and his petty desire for vengeance. And as for Helaena, if it ever came to it, I would protect her with my life. Do not ever question my loyalty to those who deserve it!"

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Enough! This conversation is exhausting."

Daenys tried her best to ignore Daeron's crestfallen expression, the cut on his face beginning to scab over slightly. In her rage, it was easy to forget that he was her brother's age. If someone ever spoke to Jace this way, she'd have their head. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. It had been a very long day, but luckily she spotted Ser Atticus coming down the hallway with a maester in tow. She tugged Daeron into his chambers and he followed without protest this time. Once inside, she sat him down on the bed just as the maester arrived.

"Princess. My prince," the maester bowed his head.

"Yes. Would you take a look at him, please?" Daenys requested.

The maester did not question Prince Daeron's presence in Dragonstone, instead choosing to approach him and gently prod the skin around his wound. As he cleaned the blood from his face, Daeron's hand clutched the sheets under him tightly.

"The good news is that it does not need to be stitched. The wound should heal well enough on its own, but there is the possibility of a scar. With a cut of this depth, it is hard to say."

Daenys's lips twisted into a wry smirk, "Welcome to the club Princeling."

The maester smeared some ointment on his cheek and pressed a square of gauze onto it to protect it from infection.

"I would prefer it if you...were discreet about his presence here. The Queen has not yet been made aware of his arrival."

"Of course princess."

"And the Milk of the poppy. Did you bring it?"

"Yes, princess... but may I advise that you refrain from taking it too often."

"Worry not. I only take it as necessary," Daenys took the vial from the maester and swallowed it all in one go.

The maester gave her a concerned look but eventually gathered his things and departed.

Daenys turned her attention to her sworn knight, "Ser Atticus, I'd like to request that you guard his room. You are the only one I trust enough for this. No one is to enter, and he is not to leave."

"Yes, princess. As you wish. Shall I station myself outside the door then?"

"Yes, if you would please. I'll be out in a minute."

Ser Atticus exited, and Daenys was left alone with Daeron. She tried to think of something to say, but she couldn't find the words. A part of her wanted to apologize, but her pride wouldn't let her. This was war. There was no space for apologies to the enemy during times of war. Nonetheless, she supposed it was unfortunate for him to be caught up in it like this. He was still a child, at least compared to her and that alone made her throat close with guilt. To drag another child into this awful war. But then again, children were perhaps the most common casualty in a war. An image of Luke flashed through her mind. Daenys decided that she would not let Daeron die. His presence here would keep the rest of her brothers safe and in return, she would keep him alive. He'd be better off if he bent the knee to her mother and maybe in time she would be able to convince him of that but for now, this would have to do. She caught Daeron casting a forlorn glance at the window and rolled her eyes.

"Oh no. I've had that window sealed off. I know better than to let you have access to an open one."

"...What if I need the air?"

"Considering the fact that your accommodations could have been a lot darker and in the company of the rats, I think you'll find the lack of air in here much more appealing."

Daeron looked away with thinly veiled disappointment, "What's going to happen to my dragon? You won't kill her will you?"

"We're not barbarians you know. Dragons are sacred."

"Oh...okay. Just, please don't hurt her. She wouldn't even be here if it weren't for me."

"Your dragon will be fine Princeling. You should worry about yourself."

"Oh right. I... I suppose I should be thanking you for earlier," Daeron picked at his cuticles.

Daenys shrugged.

"Why did you do it? Why bring me here at all then, if you weren't planning to kill me?"

"Make no mistake, you're only alive because your death would serve no purpose to us right now. You are to be a safeguard, in case your brother ever lays a hand on my brothers. Then I will not hesitate to send you back to him, drawn and quartered."

Daeron flinched, "Right yeah... I expected that."

Daenys turned around to leave but she was halted in the doorway by the young prince's voice.

"Why are you being like this? You used to be nice."

Daenys did not respond.

"Maybe you never used to be then. One cannot be kind one moment and not the next."

"There is no room for playing nice during times of war Princeling."

A part of her was in shock, at the venom that spewed out of her. She did not know where it was coming from but she thought it best to leave before she said something she'd regret and lose any chance of him bending the knee to her mother. He was a clever boy, and she hoped that he would eventually, even if it was only for his own survival. Daenys locked the door behind herself and handed the key to Ser Atticus who stood outside.

"Do not let him out under any circumstance. You are only to open the door in my presence."

"Yes, princess."

Daenys made her way back to her chambers where she found her mother waiting.

"Mother...er, Your majesty. What are you doing here."

Rhaenyra laughed, "So now I need a reason to see my daughter?"

"No, of course not."

"Oh by the gods, what have you done with your hair? And why are you dressed as if you're on your way to work in the kitchens?"

Reaching out to touch her scalp self-consciously, Daenys avoided her gaze.

"Daenys...."

"It is nothing. I was simply experimenting. If you don't like it...it will wash off in a few days."

"It is not that I don't like it. Come now, I have asked the maids to run you a bath. You simply must change out of those clothes," Rhaenyra wrinkled her nose.

Daenys rushed through the motions of cleaning herself, her mother waiting outside on her bed at her request. Once she had finished and dressed, she emerged, her hair still dripping wet. At the sight of her, Rhaenyra sighed and eased herself up from the bed. Daenys frowned at the effort it took her, it seemed as though she was still weak after the premature birth. Rhaenyra approached her and took her hands, seating her at her vanity.

"What are you...?"

"Shh, it has been a while since I have done this. Let me, please."

The protests died on her lips as her mother took her comb and ran it through her dark hair with unbearable tenderness. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly and Daenys's heart ached at the sight of it.

"Mother, are you alright?"

"No...yes...I don't know. I just missed you, that is all."

"I am right here Mother. I will always be right here."

"I know. It's just that...fate works in strange ways. When we left you in King's Landing after your wedding, I didn't realize just how much I'd miss you. I had never been away from you from the moment you were born and all of a sudden we were miles apart. There are things that I cannot do with the boys, things that I missed doing with you," Rhaenyra glanced at her fingers buried in her hair. "My only solace was that Visenya would soon be here so I would not be without a daughter for too long."

"Oh..."

"The gods took her away from me but brought you back. What a strange way of things."

"I am sorry Mother, truly."

Rhaenyra continued playing with Daenys's hair. She met her eyes in the mirror and gave her a tired half-smile. Then she lifted one strand and examined it closely.

"You know, I always did wonder, what you would look like. If you had the colouring of your brothers."

"I do not think it would make too much of a difference."

"Oh my darling girl, it would make all the difference in the world. After everything your brothers had to suffer through, after all the accusations and slander against them, I could not be more relieved that you had inherited my colouring after all. I could not bear it if you had to face that too."

Daenys reached up to hold her mother's hand, "I would have much preferred it if it was me though. I wish I could have spared them that."

"I know sweet girl, I know."

Rhaenyra's eyes fell on the sword that was propped up against the wall right next to the dresser.

"New sword?"

"Oh yes! It's Valyrian steel. Daemon gave it to me."

"Did he now, and what have you named it."

Daenys beamed at her mother in the mirror, "Queenmaker."

"Oh Daenys," Rhaenyra's eyes softened. "I truly wish this wasn't the way things turned out to be. I wish you would be able to just live your life unburdened by such troubles, peacefully with those you love."

"I am with those I love. There is no one I love more than you or my brothers. No one in the world."

"I do not doubt it."

"Mother, may I ask you something?" Daenys ventured carefully.

"Anything love."

"Is it possible...is it possible to love more than one person at a time?"

Rhaenyra chuckled, "Why of course. Why wouldn't it be? I love each and every one of my children, I love my people, and I love my husband. There are many many ways of loving someone and every person in your life requires that you love them differently."

"I see."

"You do not sound convinced."

"No...it's just that...sometimes I cannot help but..."

"I'm not quite sure I understand what you're trying to ask darling. But here is what I will say. Love has no range, it has no limitation. You may love whoever your heart desires."

Rhaenyra looked out the window at the dark sky and decided that some secrets were to be shared on nights such as this one. Her eyes grew misty and she leaned in closer, as to whisper conspiratorially into her daughter's ear.

"I myself have loved many people in my lifetime. I have loved your Aunt Laena and Daemon. I loved my childhood friend Alicent and well...you know about Ser Harwin. And loving each one of them has brought me its own heartache, and yet I still love all of them."

"All of them Mother? Even..."

"Yes, all of them. Perhaps the most maddening thing about love is that it does not simply vanish when the object of your affection hurts you, when they break your trust over and over. It is not something you can conjure and banish at will. It is haunting because you despise them for their betrayal while also mourning the person that you once cared for."

"There is no ridding it then?" Daenys's lip curled with disdain. "How troublesome. It would be better if I was simply not capable of love then."

"Oh dear, what has gotten you in such a mood? Why ever would you want to be devoid of love? It is a sign that you are still alive, that your heart is capable of beating for someone other than yourself. It is a most selfless emotion," Rhaenyra eyed her carefully. "As much as I want you to seek out your own happiness, I do want you to be careful. Seeking out happiness outside of my marriage proved to be most troublesome and it resulted in a lifetime of pain for my children."

"Was it worth it then?"

"I have you don't I? It gave me you and Jace and Luke and Joffrey. And it brought me joy, even if it was short-lived. Of course, it was worth it. But I do not wish for you to suffer the same trials I did. In the eyes of the realm and the gods, you are still...you are still married to my brother."

"I'd like to not be reminded of that, thank you."

"If there is another...another you wish to wed, I suppose you might consider an annulment..."

Daenys's face crumpled, "There isn't another. I don't think there ever could be another."

And then she was crying again, tears streaming steadily down her face despite her best efforts to hold them in.

"Oh my sweet girl, what's wrong?"

"Would you hate me, Mother? Would you hate me if I said that I...," Daenys hiccuped miserably, "that I could never marry another. That despite everything, I think I still love..."

Rhaenyra cupped her daughter's cheeks and tilted her head back to press a kiss to her forehead, the tears in her eyes mirroring her own.

"I could never hate you, my love. You are blood of my blood, a part of me. And besides, how could I fault you for loving him when I still love his mother? Perhaps such a fate is inherited, mother and daughter, doomed to love those who hurt us."

"It will not change anything. I swear it. If it comes down to it, I will not hesitate, even if I have to kill him. After what he did to Luke, I cannot let him live... and yet the thought of him dying is agony."

Rhaenyra pulled Daenys's sobbing frame into her chest, carding her fingers through her hair soothingly, "You do not have to prove your loyalty to me. There is nothing in the world I want more than your safety and your happiness."

"My happiness is in yours Mother, and I will do whatever it takes."

Daenys eventually stopped crying but she stayed enveloped in her mother's arms, feeling like a little girl once again. Rhaenyra rested her chin on her head, squeezing her against her chest so that she could hear the calming sound of her heart. Daenys's agitated heartbeat eventually slowed to match the pace of her mother's, their breathing in sync. Pulling back to wipe away all remnants of her tears, Rhaenyra kissed her cheek, right under her scarred eye.

"My brave beautiful girl. I am here if you ever need to talk about anything."

Daenys sniffled, "Yes Mother. I love you, Mother."

"And I love you."

Rhaenyra finished braiding Daenys's hair and reached for the black and gold ribbon on the dresser to tie it off.

"Oh this is a very pretty ribbon," she remarked.

Daenys's expression lightened, "It belongs to Lady Cassandra."

Rhaenyra watched the way the Baratheon girl's name rolled off her daughter's tongue, and the way her lips turned upward at a distant memory. There was something in her face that felt familiar.

"Remember Daenys, just because you love one person does not mean there's any less love to give to another."

_______________

Taglist (comment to be added/removed):

@m1tzifa1ry @blulemonades @bietchz @bugheadskid @applepyesworld @mrswhitethornbelikov @mysingularitybts @caspianobsessed @lotr-got @theekinslayer @vaf24 @feiwelinchen @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @hanabbrmpg @issybee0611 @lyannesworld @moni-cah @akinatrix @carryonmywaywardho @queenofbeingdepressed @cateyesinlove @frozenhuntress67 @bregarc @spicykimchii @stargaryenx @linevondensternen @koobratzy @nightmarematrix

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darlingofvalyria · 9 months

Text

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

"Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

"Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—" You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

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maidragoste · 9 months

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The Parent Trap: Chapter One

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.

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Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. and this does not follow 100% the movie.

Daeron tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing sideways at his nephew. Since he started the trip, Baelon had not said a word, revealing his bad mood. Daeron knew he wasn't the reason for the boy's anger but he still couldn't help but feel bad for him. Aemond was supposed to be the one to take Baelon to summer camp but at the last moment a work meeting came up that he had to attend, although Daeron doubted it because it's not like it was a secret that Aemond is addicted to work, so now he is in charge of being his nephew's driver.

“I'm sure your father is as angry as you are that he can't come with you,” he said in an attempt to start a conversation. "He told me that he will do everything possible to come look for you when the camp is over," he added, hoping that would calm the boy's annoyance a bit.

“He is a liar. He won't do it ”said the boy without taking his eyes off the window” He had already promised to take me. ”

Baelon was upset. Just days before he was excited because his dad had said that they would have a road trip like in the movies and that he would take him to an amusement park where he was on the way to camp before dropping him off. It was supposed to be their last outing together because they wouldn't see each other for weeks. Sometimes Baelon couldn't help but think that his dad didn't really mind spending time with him, that he only did it because it was his obligation. Every time he thought that he ended up thinking about his mom. He knew she was alive—not because of his dad, he never talked about her—thanks to his uncle Aegon. It's a secret but when he came to visit for his birthday he always brought gifts from his mother. The first time his uncle cut him off from the rest of the party and gave him a gift from his mom was on his fifth birthday. He had been so excited that he wanted to run and tell everyone, but before he could, his uncle stopped him and told him that he couldn't tell anyone, not his friends, not his family, not even his dad. that it had to be a secret between them or her mom would never be able to send her a present again. Baelon had never seen his uncle so serious so he complied. He kept the secret and he looked forward to each new birthday waiting to see what his mom got him. Lately, he had been wondering what it would be like to live with her. Sometimes he dreamed that the next time his uncle came he would bring his mother with him. Other times he imagined that his uncle would show up as a surprise while his dad was away and tell him to pack everything for him to take with her. But deep down he knew it wouldn't happen. His uncle never told him what his mom's job was but Baelon supposed her job was busier than his dad's and that's why he stayed with him instead of her.

“It was a last-minute thing,” Daeron said.

"It's always something," Baelon grumbled, crossing his arms and this time Daeron couldn't come up with any excuse to defend his brother. In his opinion, Aemond wasn't the best father but he wasn't the worst either… At least he was better than his father. Viserys barely remembered the existence of him and his brothers. He was sure the man couldn't remember any of his birthdays or say anything he liked to his children. Aemond knew his son's hobbies and despite not spending much time at home whenever he was there he gave Baelon his full attention. But that wasn't enough to reward the canceled plans or his lack of presence at some school events.

"Open the glove box" he requested and Baelon glared at him before reluctantly opening it. Baelon's frown was left behind and a smile appeared in his place when he saw that his favorite snacks and sweets were there. “Your father couldn't take you but he had already bought things for the trip. He also gave me the address of the park where he wanted to take you so we can still go there ”Daeron took advantage of a red light to ruffle the boy's hair

"Your dad loves you, kid, don't forget that"

Normally you wouldn't let Aemon ride up front with you, in the passenger seat, but this was an exception because you wouldn't be seeing your baby for weeks so you wanted to get him as close as possible before you had to say goodbye. You'd think you'd be used to this after all this was Aemon's third year going to summer camp but even so, you always had a hard time saying goodbye. You would miss him immensely. But he liked to go and you were not going to deprive him of experiences just because it was difficult for you to have him away.

"Promise you won't continue reading Harry Potter without me," Aemon asked and you looked through the mirror to find that Aegon, who was sitting in the back next to Joffrey, just like you was smiling. You two were happy that your son was growing up and wanting to have his own things but it was sweet to the heart to know that he still wanted to spend time with the two of you and the three share moments like family readings every night.

"Don't worry, we won't read a single chapter without you," Aegon said as he picked up the stuffed dragon Joffrey dropped again. The baby seemed amused to see his dad bend down to retrieve his toy "But we'll probably watch the movies."

Aegon had never really been in the habit of reading. He hated every time at school they forced him to read a book. He preferred a thousand times to see a movie before reading the book. That took less time. But he became interested in reading after the first time Aemon asked him to join you in reading to him before going to sleep. Books were something his godson liked—which Aegon wasn't surprised knowing you and Aemond were total nerds—and he really wanted to bond with him so he started reading the books Aemon liked only to have more topics to talk about with him. Aemon's excitement when he understood what he was talking about made him more than satisfied. It didn't take long for him to stop seeing reading as homework and he began to really enjoy it thanks to Aemon and you.

"You can only see the first two" Aemon reminded him turning to face him seriously. The three have the tradition of first reading the book and once finished it would watching their movie. You hadn't finished reading The Prisoner of Azkaban yet so you were forbidden to watch the movies that follow Chamber of Secrets.

"Aemon, those movies have existed since before you were born and we saw them all when we were teenagers," Aegon said and he and baby Joffrey laughed at the boy's annoyed grimace.

"Don't worry, Aemon. I'm sure he doesn't remember anything. He barely paid attention when I made him watch the movies with me. He's just trying to annoy you" you said.

"In my defense, I was distracted by your beauty," Aegon said making you laugh.

Perhaps another child would be disgusted or uncomfortable that his parents were flirting in front of him but Aemon just looked at them curiously. He knew that they had known each other since they were very young, but he had no idea that Aegon seemed to have feelings for you since he was a teenager. He sometimes saw you and Aegon so in love and happy that he couldn't help but wonder how you ended up with his biological father before. It's not like you never talked about his father. He didn't know his name, you never called him by his name when you talked about him, but he knew some things like his father also liked to read a lot like him, that like him he practiced fencing when he was young, that he also had the light sleep. Baelon knew trivial things about his father but he didn't know anything about how your relationship with him was. Perhaps you had broken up with his father to be with his godfather? But that didn't make much sense to him because if it did he would have met Aegon sooner. He met his godfather when he was four years old, although he knew that Aegon had been a part of his life when he was a baby from the pictures in the family album that you showed him but something had happened in the middle so that you and Aegon stopped seeing each other.

"So what do you and Rickon plan to do this year?" you asked, snapping Aemon out of his thoughts. Wasting no time Aemon started talking excitedly about how this time he and his best friend would go hiking in the mountains.

Daeron parked in front of the camp cabins. There were already a lot of boys and girls. You could feel the excitement of everyone from the big smiles, the laughs, and the shouts. He hoped that Baelon's experience would be good and that he would be able to make friends. That something good would come of having him away from home. It would be weird these weeks without his nephew at home, surely it would be quieter. Vhagar would surely be depressed by Baelon's absence. He would miss it too. He had gotten into the habit of going to the park every afternoon to take the dogs out together and play ball—sometimes Adam and Nettes would come over too—then they would come home and watch silly reality shows while criticizing the contestants.

"Don't get in trouble, Baelon" he reminded his nephew and ruffled his hair again to the boy's annoyance "I love you"

"Dude, don't be weird. I had enough of grandma crying as if I were going to live on the other continent. I'll be fine” Baelon said before opening the door not wanting to see his uncle's face. He sighed and turned around again. "I love you too and I'm going to miss you," he said quickly before leaving to find his luggage. He barely got out of the car and grimaced when he began to hear the screams get louder.

Daeron hurried down to help him as he tried to ignore a boy's scream of “Aemon”. When he was removing the suitcase from the trunk of the car, a boy with dark hair and gray eyes appeared behind his nephew. He was tall though he didn't seem to be older than Baelon.

“Hey, Aemon, are you deaf? I was calling you” he said pouting. He didn't even give Baelon time to tell him that he was getting the wrong person when he took one of his platinum locks between his fingers. "Oh, you cut it off, I knew you were upset because Joffrey kept pulling your hair but I didn't think you'd do anything so drastic”

Baelon took the stranger's hand and pulled it away from his hair. He wasn't obsessed with taking care of his hair like his dad but it was rare for a stranger to feel free to touch him “I'm not Aemon. My name is Baelon"

"But you look just like Aemon" said the other boy with clear confusion "Why do you look just like Aemon?"

Baelon looked to his uncle for help, wanting Daeron to get him out of this situation, but Daeron seemed to be in a trance. For a moment he thought that his eyes were shiny but he dismissed it as a sun effect.

Daeron couldn't believe it. Aemon was going to be in the same camp as Baelon. At any moment he would arrive. He should be in a panic. He should be telling Baelon to get in the car to drive away because that's what Aemond would do. He should call his older brother. But he wouldn't do that. After years the twins had the opportunity to meet and he was not going to stop it. Baelon deserved to meet the rest of his family… But if he was there when you arrived with Aemon then you would be the one to leave. This couldn't happen. This was a unique opportunity. This one meeting could make life better for everyone.

“I have to go,” Daeron announced, slamming the trunk shut.

Baelon eyed daggers at him. He had just told him that he loved him and now he was leaving him with a complete freak, didn't he care about him? Definitely from now on Daeron was no longer his favorite uncle and when he returned home he would tell his grandma so that she would scold him.

"What's your name kid?" asked the adult looking at the boy with dark hair.

"Rickon" he replied, still without taking his eyes off Baelon. He wanted to touch his face to make sure it was real but he had a feeling that if he did then he would get hit.

"Baelon, you will stay with Rickon," Daeron ordered.

"What?!" Shouted his nephew with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

"Rickon, you will take Baelon to your cabin and wait until Aemon's mother leaves or whoever she brings him to introduce him to Baelon"

"Wait, do you know Aemon?" Baelon asked trying to understand what the hell was going on.

Daeron didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wanted to tell him that of course, he knew Aemon. He remembered how scared he was the first time he picked him up, he remembered how little Aemon used to fall asleep in his arms, how when he learned to walk he used to follow him everywhere, and how he loved to give Tessarion kisses. On his phone, he has a folder with all of Aemon's photos. Every time he saw them he felt like he finished seeing them so fast. He wished he had taken more photos… Maybe after this camp, he could get new photos.

"Rickon, don't let Aemon's family see Baelon" he asked ignoring his nephew's question "Enjoy the camp," he said and got into the car ignoring Baelon's protests.

Daeron felt bad when he started the car, if he had time he might have stayed to explain to Baelon or try to prepare him for this surprise but you could show up at any moment. He couldn't risk you seeing him and deciding to leave.

When he thought he was far enough from the camp, he waited for the next red light to take his phone and call Aegon. He had to ask his brother if he knew that Aemon was going to the camp and that was why he had told Aemond that he should take Baelon there or was it just a fluke.

Aegon never responded.

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martelltyrellmont · 1 year

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Glimpse of us part lll

Summary: Where Viserys marries for the third time, upon learning that Alicent Hightower shows signs of Greyscale.

Part 1

Part 2

Clarification: viserys is a respectful husband, to a certain extent but Arianne is a girl married to an old man & I don't think a girl would want to marry someone four times her age.

A few months passed, Daeron was growing very fast, only once in SEVEN months did his father go to see him.

Just once Lina, ONCE.— Frustration was getting more and more, the children were doing better than I expected, my only allies in the castle were Aemond, Helaena, Larrys and that's not counting the royal guard.— The other night , Aemond taught me strategies to be ahead of others.

Lina positioned herself in front of me making strange gestures.— Breathe, Arianne breathe, REMEMBER YOU ARE THE DAMN QUEEN.— She was on the right side again, we both intertwined our elbows.— Aemond is a very intelligent Child, but I can assure you that if if you become a friend of Lady Lannister you will have as allies her husband and her twin.- We walked along the bay, we both remembered home.- I will only tell you that the Lannisters are somewhat encimous, I am not saying it but other ladies.

It seems that Daeron thinks that Erryk is his father, every time he sees him he smiles. I looked at the horizon where the sun was at all it gave.

He only gave a slight laugh, since the bearded man was behind us. "He loves anything that comes from you, it's a pity that everything ends like this, haven't you thought about what you're going to do when the king dies?" - whisper.

No.- I changed my view to my feet.- It's something that should but I don't know, I suppose as Aemond says, the war will break out, nobody wants a woman on the throne and it's the same as my mother tells me, possibly I'll get married with a lord but I don't know, Helaena always mentions that I stay by her side." I sighed while frowning slowly. "Alicent sent me a letter last week, she says she's much better and she'll be back soon, something tells me that we'll meet We are going to unite at some point, we are both in the same thing.

Go who would say that your husband was a terrible husband.— he exclaimed, with irony.— I'm not surprised, the princess is Capricious, some servants don't tolerate her, the other night Jace changed his plate 3 times, both her children and she have a somewhat stressful character, they threw the food away.

Don't tell me, Laenor ignores me, he knows that I already know that they are not his children .- he couldn't use that word in front of Lina.- everything is overwhelming.

In the distance Aemond was playing with Daeron, lately he has been an older brother present, he did not care that Daeron had a dragon every time he cried, Aemond had been present, even when I was sleeping soundly at dawn, my right hand was Aemond.— You can say it, I'm Vaemond's bastard daughter.” Lina looked at me.

The only good thing that Vaemond has done.— she joked and it was true.— what are those two doing?

I don't know, but Ser. Criston wouldn't let a wave drown them, how is it with you? .- We continued talking about all of Kings Landing.

I thought for a while.— He is kind, very very kind, that bothers Erryk.— I put my fingers on my chin.— Yes, the other day when I was looking for Helaena, I had collided with Harwin Strong by mistake, due to a strange reason Cole was coming after me, he hurried to not throw me the impact, I guess something happened between him and her.

You suppose well. — If I didn't know Larrys, I would say that Luna would be the best for the small council. — According to some sources, he had something with the princess for that reason in the tournaments at your brother's wedding and she killed Joffrey.

Now I understand everything, I remember something vague about that week. - I shook my head.

Aemond ran with Daeron in his arms to where we were. "I think he's hungry." He gave me the little prince in his arms.

Thank you, dear.— He just smiled and stayed on my right side.—

I'm just here to help you.— She put her hands on his back and began to walk.—

That night was the second night that Viserys requested me in his chambers. "The king speaks to you," Lina exclaimed, coming in and waking me up.

A repulsive emptiness entered my stomach. "I don't want to, the last time I hurt myself." I closed my eyes sighing, I stood up slowly, Lina helped me put on the robe. "Take care of the princes."

You don't have to tell me, I'll take care of them here.” She gave me a crooked smile, while she put on my robe.

I walked slowly, until I went out into the hallway and saw Erryk, he seemed furious.—His highness.—I exclaimed, his hand was clutching that sword.

We walked a bit because halfway down the road I put my hands on my stomach leaning on the wall that was next to me.—Erryk, I don't want to do this.—I looked at him.—I'm only 17 years old and I'm the mother of a prince.

I hug myself and caress my hair. — It will only be a while, just a while, remember that time.

I hugged him and released him as quickly as possible, it was in a tournament in Harrenhall, only Lina knows that story, how the mermaid fell for the gentleman's charms, we fell in love the first time we met...

Cargyll encouraged me to continue, I closed my eyes upon entering that room.—My king?.—He was lying down, I swallowed saliva and lay down next to him.

I'm sorry I didn't call or see you, but being king is a tedious job,” he exclaimed, a fake smile slipping from my mouth. “Daeron is a charming prince.

Thank you very much his highness and I understand .- I put my hair behind my ear, about 39 minutes did not pass and the king was on top of me until a maid entered somewhat upset.

Excuse your highnesses but Prince Aemond suffered an accident and his arm hurts, it's purple.— Viserys immediately moved away from me, I just breathed in such relief.

Where is he? .- asked the king

With the maestres, but he is crying a lot and requests the queen.” He bowed and ran off.

I think it's better that you go see how my son is doing. He patted me and I left the place, without saying anything.

Erryk guided me to where that silver-haired Child was, when he entered the room, there was only him with the master, when he saw me he came out. — I think my plan worked.

He explains to me? .— I put my hands on my waist, trying to understand everything.

I heard that she didn't feel comfortable, so I devised a plan for her to get rid of my father for tonight.— He raised his shoulders and then lowered them.— Excuse me, Your Highness, but I tried to be in your shoes and since it must be difficult for you be with someone four times your age.

My generous Aemond.— This Child was smarter than he suggested.— Let's go to the cameras, but I think you should pretend that your arm still hurts.

That young dragon showed me to be the most loyal person to me so far, "more loyal than Erryk himself"...

Arianne, can I ask you something? .- the little Boy, took my hand the moment I left him in his bed.

What's wrong Aemond?... - I sat on the edge of his bed.

He cleared his throat, clearing his throat. "Have you been in love before you got married?"

I let go of his grip gently and smiled at him, I couldn't stop imagining another life, at that moment I bit my lower lip and looked at the window, you could see King landing. — Yes, my prince a long time ago… — I came back to look at his highness.

Could you tell me what happened to him?” —He was a curious child by nature.

I closed my eyes remembering everything that I had experienced.— Just because your majesty.— He teased a bit.— Everything happened so fast, his father had died and living on an island near Driftmark, two years ago my parents and I went .- I stood up from that place, now positioning myself on the right side of Aemond, lying a little on his bed while I caressed his hair, he was concentrated listening carefully.- what I felt when I saw him was inexplicable, I had never seen him and he He's older than me but only a year.—I bit my lip trying to remember, he was wearing a white cotton shirt, training, he felt the fury and frustration in every action.—He presumably didn't see me the day I came down from vermithor but yes the next day, he gave me a little tour of his castle, small very small but cozy, we went to the small town, he and his brother took me, they were sad but they promised to take care of me such a restless and exploratory girl, my parents I had been scolded and justly Reason, we were at a funeral, not a "normal" visit.— He shook his head, his violet eyes paid attention to all my gestures.— Time passed, he wrote me a letter, because he was very rude to me at that time and He apologized, that's how it started every day we wrote letters or poems. — a tear seemed to come out of my eyes. — but one day my father found a letter in which he said that we would both get married and run away to Yi Ti, he was very upset, His plan was always to marry your Brother and in fact that was the initial plan, until we were engaged for a few hours. I looked at the ceiling for a while trying not to cry. That day I hit myself, Erryk. Serious mistake Arianne .- He found out from Lina and sailed to Driftmark and requested an audience with my father which was denied, he returned two more times until months later he found out that I was already engaged to your father.- I looked at that child again .— That night he went up to my room from my window, I I had been locked up for days, it was very sad, we thought about running away at that moment but my father threatened him and me that if I left he would chain Vermithor and he knows that Vermithor and I have a very strong connection just like my mother and meleys.

Aemond was stunned.— my queen that is unfair.— I remove my hand that was still caressing her head.— I suppose that you and Cargyll were something and that Erryk is him.— here is Arianne's serious mistake.— her story is AES different To my mother's with Cole.—That confession left me in shock.—A large part of me is glad that she married my father because she is the best stepmother I have.—I smiled at her, those words were sincere.—But another knows that both my mother and you are condemned to a marriage without love and that is very sad and admirable because they fulfill their duty to the kingdom and their houses.

That purple-eyed Child culminated, a Daeron whimpering was heard leaving Aemond alone trying to sleep, the months passed and both Alicent and Aegon returned, she no longer had one ear and some parts of the skin were removed, on the other hand Aegon it was calmer than before, a few days after his return there was a big fight between Rhaenyra and Alicent about the incident of Jace and Luke locking Aemond in a closet..

What are those screams? .- He carried Daeron while Lina looked at that uproar.

She put her hands over her mouth. "The queen and the princess are fighting." I shook my head trying to make Daeron sleep, Erryk on the other hand was a few meters behind me.

I'll see what I can do.” I walked with Daeron in my arms… “Your Highnesses, everything in order?” They both fell silent when they saw me arrive, Alicent was accommodating her dress and Rhaenyra her hair.

DON'T MESS ARIANNE.— Rhaenyra exclaimed, shouting.— you're the least likely person that she has to get involved in this shameless

You don't talk like that to your stepmother.— The Hightower exclaimed angrily.— The one who should be ashamed is you and how you educate your children.

The discussion continued for a few more minutes, causing the king to call them on the spot, I didn't want to get involved realizing that Daeron was in my arms, that was the first of many fights that I witnessed by mistake...

#aemond targaryen #daeron the drunken #house targaryen #rhaenys targaryen velaryon #house velaryon #ser erryk x reader #aemond x fem!reader #alicent x reader #alicent x viserys #king viserys #viserys x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n

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yoonivy · 12 days

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my house of stone, your ivy grows (and now i’m covered in you); part 3.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, drama, angst, fluff, smut. it’s a y/n fic but no use of y/n. heavily inspired by taylor swift’s ‘ivy’.

When a fierce blizzard ravages the North, a certain dragon rider gets caught up in it and crashes onto Bear Island.

And right to you, the youngest daughter of House Mormont.

warnings. smut! loss of virginity, fingering, riding, creampie

wc. 16k+ 01| 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

––––

The private library in Maegor’s Holdfast is Prince Aemond Targaryen’s favored spot for solitude and peace. It is the one place away from all the noise, gossip, and politics in the castle; and he often finds himself there, reading whatever book catches his eye that day or quietly contemplating by the fireplace. The only person that keeps him company there is his sister, Princess Helaena, but that only happens once every blue moon. So it is usually only him and Snowball – a stray cat he had claim as his own only a year ago, finding the little fellow near the docks of Blackwater Bay and taking pity since he thought the cat to be a mirror of himself, with it’s pure white fur and one eye blinded from a street fight with another stray – and he likes it that way.

So why, oh why, is his usual peace in the private library being demolished when today is the final day he can have some time by himself before the festivities of his siblings’ wedding begins?

“This is going to be the worst week of my life!”

Aemond’s facial features slightly twitch in annoyance, but chooses to ignore his older brother, continuing to read the text he has in front of him. Or at least, trying to – Aegon has been whining for over half an hour already, and it is really hard to focus when a big man child is crying into your ear.

“So many beautiful women from all around Westeros have been arriving into the city, all so they can witness me marry my strange, little sister!” Aegon bemoans, actual tears falling from his eyes as he runs his hand through his hair. Aemond rolls his own, thinking about how Helaena is the one given the short end of the stick in the deal. “It is so unfair!”

“Now imagine how our dear sister is faring with this,” Daeron says with a snicker at his place by the window, scratching under the chin of the small cat he has tucked in his arm. “I highly doubt she is any more ecstatic at the prospect of marrying you than you are.”

Aemond grins at his little brother, adding on, “And I would even propose she has it worse.”

Daeron laughs hard, head knocking back, which could only mean he is in agreement. It has Aegon’s jaw dropping, looking between his two younger brothers, “How can you two be so cruel when I am already in distress?” Then he turns to Daeron, “Is this what they taught you in Oldtown? To disrespect your older brother?”

Daeron shrugs, throwing him a boyish grin, and Aegon heaves a bothered sigh as he slumps against the chair he is sitting on.

“You know,” Daeron begins, “I’m surprised our mother and grandfather even allowed you to put it off for so long. You and Helaena have been betrothed for nearly a decade.”

“And every single day I prayed to the Sevens that our mother would change her mind…” Aegon grumbles petulantly.

Aemond closes the book he has in his hands – clearly unable to read anymore – and tells him, “And each and every one of those prayers were completely useless. An annulment was never going to happen. Your marriage with Helaena is not only a way for our Targaryen bloodline and your inheritance to the throne to stay strong, but also so our mother would not have to agree to a betrothal between our sister and one of our bastard nephews. It is why mother sent an olive branch to our half-sister and rogue uncle and invited them to the wedding. It is purely just to gloat to Rhaenyra that she did not get what she wanted.”

Aegon rolls his eyes at Aemond – already knowing all that himself – and mutters angrily under his breath, “I detest this fucking political bullshit.”

Daeron shrugs again, returning to showering Snowball with affection. Their youngest brother is probably happy that he is a ward and squire of their uncle, Lord Ormund Hightower, over in Oldtown instead of being around here with all the drama.

Aemond, on the other hand, does not mind the intrigue of the court. Sometimes, he can even say he enjoys it. Besides, as heirs of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, he and his brothers should at least be knowledgeable on the affairs of the land that their father rules over – whether they like it or not.

“I know what you two can do to make it up to me!” Aegon perks up suddenly, obviously over talking about the previous topic. Grinning mischievously, he leans forwards on the table in front of him and whispers to two in the room, as if the walls had ears, “Tonight… We’ll all sneak out… Have ourselves a little party all throughout the Streets of Silk in my honor…” He lifts his brows a few times, “Huh, how ‘bout it, brothers?” Then he smirks at Aemond, “You had fun the last time, didn’t you?”

Aemond grimaces while Daeron questions in disbelief, “You actually went with him?!”

“Once,” Aemond answers, then sharply glares at his older brother. “And never again.”

Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes, once again slumping in his seat as he mutters, “What a bore.”

“Wow…” Daeron awes, walking towards Aemond and gently drops the cat in front of him, Snowball purring as soon as Aemond starts scratching near his ear. Daeron pushes aside the book Aemond had been reading and lifts himself to sit on the table. “I did not think you are one to let him coerce you to do anything, especially his stupid ideas… I’m a bit disappointed, Aemond.”

Daeron is obviously teasing, but Aemond shoots him a glare anyway.

Aegon is beaming again, amused, and laughs too. Truly a hurricane of different emotions – probably the wedding jitters.

“Hey, if it were not for my coercing and “stupid ideas”, Aemond would not have met that girl he is over the moon for,” Aegon says, still laughing. “The Northern bitch he is always writing his gay, little love letters—Eurgh!”

Aemond suddenly has him by the collar, cutting off his airway by how tight his younger brother’s grip is. The rage in Aemond is palpable, especially given how close their faces are, it’s clear to see. Aemond is seething when he spits out in Aegon’s reddening face, “I will have your tongue if you dare utter anything like that ever again, I don’t care. She is a lady of House Mormont and you will put respect on her name, or I’ll cut off your cock along with your tongue. Then we shall see if you will be having any fun on the Streets of Silk anytime soon.”

“Brothers, brothers…” Daeron tries to put himself between his two older brothers, pressing against their chest to push the trembling Aegon away from the furious Aemond. “As much as I think it is deserved, I do not wish to witness the heart attack that both our mother and father will have when they find out that their dear oldest son has been maimed and circumcised just days before his wedding.”

That has Aemond loosening his grip, letting Aegon fall back down unceremoniously on the chair. With his father’s deteriorating health, Aemond did not want to be the one to cause him more pain.

He sits back down too, trying to calm down as he ignores Aegon murmuring under his breath, “The Mormonts are hardly a house.”

“But tell me, what is the story there? Why did you fly North that day?” Daeron curiously asks, so used to his older brothers’ fighting that it does not even phase him. “You never did tell us.”

“Well, you see…” Aegon grins, still rubbing at the soreness around his neck before he starts the story. Aemond shuts his eye, choosing to drown his idiotic brother out to recall the time he told you himself.

It was when he visited during the third anniversary of the night he had landed on Bear Island, the snow on the ground in abundance but not as bad as that first time. The two of you were trudging through it, hands clasped together to prevent the other from falling. Although the two of you were falling behind the group of woodcutters that you, Aemond, and your brothers were helping out to gather firewood for the upcoming week, in case a snowstorm hits. It had been a long day, both of you tired but happy of the hard work you had done. As the sun started setting, Aemond turned to you and questioned, “Have I ever told you why I ended up here all those years ago?”

As you kept walking side-by-side with your best friend, you shook your head. “No… but I have been curious. King’s Landing is awfully far from Bear Island.”

Aemond heaved a sigh, stopping at his track and it made you stop too, your hand still in his. He eyed you hard, a serious look on his face. “I’ll tell you if you promise you won’t laugh at me.”

Facing him, you took his other gloved hand, holding both now, and just as seriously as he was, you said, “I promise.”

“My older brother he…” Aemond took a breath, and you squeezed his hand in comfort, knowing every story he told about his older brother does not end well. He gave you a small grateful smile, before he started again, “Well, first of all, we were reading this story book — about different creatures, and the horrible things they do — and then we got to the story about giants. It absolutely terrified me and it caused me to have nightmares for days after that… Then he found out I–” His mouth snapped shut, frowning, “A serving girl told him what I had done, and he began to make fun of me. I tried to act brave and say it was a lie but he saw right through me. So he dared me to fly up North, go beyond the Wall, find a giant and bring him back the head. If I did not, I was a coward and he would tell everyone what I had done…”

Aemond’s lips were trembling when he finished the story, his eye was wet. Frowning, you reached up, tugging the corner of his mouth up with your thumb. “Your brother is the stupidest, dumbest, most idiotic person I know.”

Aemond laughed through his sniffling. “You’ve never met him.”

“I don’t have to. I just know,” you told him with a shrug.

Aemond smiled at that. “But doesn’t that make me even more of an idiot for trying to prove him wrong?”

You thought about it for a second, lips pursing to the side, then answered plain and simple, “Yes.”

His mouth dropped, and with a teasing, toothy grin you added, “But at least you met me.”

He was about to retort, but karma got you first, in a way of a snowball to your face by your brother, Jorah. You screeched as you wiped away the freezing ice covering your face, then screamed at the boy who was laughing, far ahead the two of you, “This is why Renee doesn’t fancy you!”

Thus started the Great Snowball War of Bear Island, the one that you and Aemond lost horribly.

Aemond huffs out a soft chuckle fondly at the memory, almost missing when his older brother says your name and continues with, “I actually cannot wait to meet her soon and see what all the fuss is about.”

Aemond snaps his attention on him. “What?”

“Your little Lady Mormont,” Aegon says so slowly, dragging each syllable like Aemond is dense. “She should be arriving in the city right now, with all the other Northern Houses.”

Aemond’s head shakes, disbelieving. “What are you talking about? House Mormont are never invited to these things. Believe me, I’ve tried before.”

“Yeah, well, when you are the oldest son of the King, what you want, you get,” Aegon says with a cocky shrug. But as Aemond continues to glare at him, calling his bluff, he sighs. “I asked our mother to invite them to the wedding. Told her it would be… nice, to do this for you. Since you have not seen her in years. I saw her write the invitation and everything. There is even already a chamber in Maegor’s Holdfast ready for her arrival.”

Aemond knows his brother well enough to know when he is lying or not, and so he abruptly stands, running to the door. As soon as he has it open with a swift kick of his pointed black leather boots, he takes off, Daeron watching with grand amusement and Aegon shouting after him, “You’re welcome, by the way!”

---

The small hall is already crowded to the brim when Aemond gets there. The new arrivals from the North easy to spot with their heavy clothing not suited for the southern weather. Among them, he sees someone familiar that has him smiling wide as he stride his long legs over to her.

“Lady Dorothea!” He calls out, and she turns around to face him with a smile of her own. Aemond had already had the pleasure of greeting your sister during her arrival a couple days ago with her Lord-Husband, Tobias Tully of Riverrun. He stands beside her now. Aemond bows his head towards him, “Lord Tobias.”

“My Prince,” they both answer back in respect.

“Did you know your sister is coming here as well?” Aemond asks Dorothea, which has her smile falling, confusing the prince.

“I–” Dorothea starts, but then sighs and smacks her palm lightly against her temple. “How did you find out?” It has Aemond frowning this time, unsure of the reaction. Then Dorothea chuckles. “My sister wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Oh… My brother told me. Just now, actually.”

“She’s going to kill him,” Dorothea murmurs in a low voice that only her husband and Aemond could hear. Aemond’s lips start tugging up into a smile, and even more when Dorothea further explains, “My sister, she was looking forward to just… spring up on you. She even wrote this… Really long and foolhardy letter to your Lady Mother, her Grace, about why she wanted to keep it a secret and begged your mother to keep it a secret as well. Imagine that? Asking the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to go along with your childish plans for… I don’t even know what,” Dorothea shares a laugh with the two men at her side, sighing at the thought of you. “Ah, my beloved little sister… How I do love her so…”

Aemond can’t help but chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Do you know when she’ll arrive?”

Dorothea exchanges a look with her husband, then tells the prince, “She’s already here, my Prince.” The news has him sucking in a breath, his gaze already searching around again. “I have yet to see her, but I’ve already met with my father just a bit ago. He is taking their possessions to the two chambers they’ve been graciously given, and my sister… Well, I would hope you know her enough to know exactly where she is.”

A secret smile is shared with him, and in an instant, Aemond knows precisely what your sister meant.

---

Unlike the usual stoic and aloof prince that the staff of the Red Keep are used to, they are passed by a hurried yet bright-eyed Prince Aemond. There is an out of the ordinary grin gracing his face, so handsome that as he weaves through the mingling guests, he turns the heads of every pretty woman he passes by, hoping to gain his attention with a bat of their eyelashes. But he does not even notice, not when his own eye is searching around for the one face he is longing to see.

As Aemond takes the now very familiar cobblestoned path to the Godswood, he catches sight of his twin cousins, Baela and Rhaena Velaryon, giggling together by the wisteria archways leading to one of the many gardens on the castle grounds. This could only mean that his bastard nephews are also running amok the Keep as well, but not even that can ruin his day… Because how can this day ever get ruined when as soon as he steps his foot onto the dirt ground of the Godswood, he has to suddenly stop short to catch his breath and calm his rapidly beating heart?

Clutching a hand over his chest, he feels that he has to. Like if he does not try to protect it, his yearning heart will shoot out of his body to lay itself down for the heavenly being in the lilac dress who is staring up at the great oak Heart Tree of the Godswood.

Although right in front of him, Aemond is still in disbelief.

Is it truly you?

He has dreamt of this a million times before – you, here, at his home, with him – but now that it is actually happening, he cannot even fathom it to be true.

Aemond watches as your eyelids flutter shut, a gentle smile on your face.

He wonders what you pray to your Gods for. All his visits to the Sept ends with him praying for your wellbeing and happiness – and more selfishly, for you to return his feelings. He used to pray for a taste of the crown on his head, but now he just wants you by his side, always — so is it really that bad?

The Targaryen Prince waits, giving you peace for your private moment, and only makes his move once your eyes flutter open. He keeps his footsteps light, so light that you are none the wiser he is by your side until he makes himself known, close enough that when he whispers your name, he can see the shiver going down your spine in delight.

Spinning towards him, you murmur his name just as tenderly as he said yours. It makes his heart ache; remembering how long it has been since he has heard your voice, seen your smile, and felt that feeling when you looked at him – like he is someone that can be revered and loved.

Then suddenly, your face is crumpling in mixture of a laugh and a cry, standing on the tip of your toes to throw your arms around him.

It catches him by surprise. But it seems he is not the only one — because just as he is about to return the gesture, you are springing back and away from him.

“I’m terribly sorry, I forget myself,” you apologize as you glance around, your cheeks burning up with embarrassment at your display in front of the many others that came to greet the Old Gods after their long travel – and towards a prince . They are probably wondering why a girl from such a small and insignificant house thinks she is so familiar with the prince to even dare look him in the eye, let alone touch him. How you didn’t even address him with his title as well. At that thought, you dip your head down and murmur, “My prince.”

You feel fingers grazing under your chin, gently coaxing you to tilt your head up. You are met with Prince Aemond’s soft gaze and a warm smile on his lips. He is breathtaking, and you can only think about how pretty he is. You stare at him in awe, lashes fluttering as your eyes take in all his beauty so greedily, tucking in the image of him in every corner of your mind for safekeeping.

Before you can even form any thought other than that, his arms are wrapping around you. So tightly that you could not jump away if you wanted to like last time.

You stand there frozen in place, feeling the curious stares of everyone around on you and your Prince. You can hear murmurings — whispers of his name, wondering who you are, and what the two of you are to each other. It should have you worried, how it might appear improper and scandalous in some way… But if your best friend did not care for their gossiping, then why should you?

So you let go of the worry.

You press your face against his chest, breathing him in as you hold him just as closely as he is holding you.

It felt so nice and right that the two of you stood there like that for what seemed like hours.

In reality, only minutes passed — and although still long, when the two of you did part, it truly did not seem enough.

“This is unfair… I wanted to be the one to surprise you, not the other way around!” You tell him with a playful pout, hoping it will hide the secret yearning in your heart.

Aemond’s perfectly straight and beautifully long silver hair swishes elegantly when his body shakes with laughter. “I’m afraid my older brother sold you out.”

“Your older brother… Prince Aegon?! How did he…?”

“He was the one to suggest to our mother to invite your family to the wedding.”

Your mouth drops in shock and it makes the corners of Aemond’s own tug up in a grin. “Believe me, I was surprised by his out of character thoughtfulness as much as you are.”

“Well if it were not for that and the fact that he is to be married soon, I would have had his tongue–” You catch yourself and glance around, hoping no one heard your treasonous thoughts uttered out loud. Luckily, no one did.

Aemond laughs again. It has been a while since he has laughed this much and he knows it is because of you. He always seems to be full of merriment whenever you are around. “Funny that, I had the same exact thought earlier.”

You share a smile with him, standing there and just happily basking in each other’s presence.

“It’s been too long…” Aemond says. Slow and carefully, he reaches a hand towards you, placing it on your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

You suck in a breath as you allow him, emboldening the prince. He has you glancing down to follow the way his thumb gingerly brushes across your collarbone, gentle yet firm. A familiar feeling of heat toils deep in your lower belly, one you have come to know whenever you have thoughts of Aemond when you are alone in the privacy of your bedchamber. You look up at him from your lowered lashes, “I’ve missed you too.”

As you stare into his eye, you can not help but remember how you would slip your hand under your covers, your unpracticed fingers in between your thighs as you sigh his name into your pillow. It is burning you up to be thinking of something so impure in front of the Prince — if you only knew he has had his own fair share of sleepless nights doing the same.

Aemond lets himself be selfish for a couple more moments, trailing his palm across and down your shoulder before he clasps his hands together behind his back. If he did any more than that, he knew he would have done something unbecoming for a Prince.

“It seems you intend to stay true to your family nickname…" he says then, full of mirth. "You are still but a little cub.”

You gasp, appalled. “I’ve grown!”

Aemond hums with a teasing smirk.

You straighten up your posture even more, holding your head up high, trying to convince him. “I have!”

His answer remains the same, a hum, and the infuriating (and begrudgingly – charming ) smirk still on his lips.

“It’s not my fault you grew so freakishly so, with your long, spider-like legs,” you grumble. And it is true. The last time you had seen him, he was only an inch or two taller than you. Now he has at least a foot over you. So much has changed, especially when the first time you met him, you were the taller one.

Aemond can not help but be amused at the petulant look on your face and repeats out loud your use of ‘long, spider-like leg’ in disbelief. He licks his lips as the smirk turns into a beaming smile.

“I apologize, my lady,” Aemond says, dipping his head in mock apology. “May I make it up to you by showing you around the Keep?”

Then he is holding his arm out for you to take. You narrow your gaze at him for a long second, letting him sweat. You notice the way he takes a hard swallow and thus, becoming satisfied.

Sighing dramatically, you lock your arm around his elbow, your hand holding onto his bicep, sticking close by his side. “I suppose that is the least you can do.”

Aemond is a very thorough tour guide. For every place he shows you, he tells you about the long history of it and the most significant events that happened there. If it were anyone else, you would surely be bored. But since it is Aemond, he has your rapt attention. Besides, it overjoyed you to finally be able to put a place for all the stories that Aemond has told you over the years.

The prince takes you everywhere in the Red Keep – the Sept, the White Sword Tower, the Maidenvault, the Great Hall, the rookery, the training yard, the private library, and all the other places that are not off limits.

He saves the dragon pit for last, being the furthest from the Keep.

“How are you feeling about the wedding?” You ask him, curious to know. You and the prince are still arm in arm as he leads you there, not at all in a rush and enjoying the leisurely walk.

Aemond shrugs nonchalantly. “It has been a long time coming. They’ve been betrothed since even before we’ve met. I think I’ve already come to terms with it.”

“Do you find it strange that your siblings are getting married?”

Aemond takes a moment before he answers, “I pity my sister, if that is what you are asking… But if it is because they are of the same blood… Well, I’ve told you about my many ancestors before, how they often married their own family to keep our bloodline pure for our legacy and to control dragons… And I must admit, there was even a time I had wanted for Helaena to have been betrothed to me instead—” He feels you stiffen slightly at his confession, “— Not that I felt anything romantically towards her in any way, but for duty and our birthright. And perhaps even to save my sister from the cruelty of our older brother. But now though…” he trails off, giving you a sidelong glance, “I am glad that the duty did not fall on me.”

You do not notice or feel his stare, deep in your thoughts and humming in contemplation at what Aemond just told you. Then finally, you say, “I could never picture myself marrying any of my brothers.”

Not only do you physically cringe, but the grimace of disgust that twists your features has Aemond laughing so heartily.

“Good,” he says plainly, after his laughter lets up. Then he clears his throat before asking, “And what of other suitors? Surely you have many…”

You snort at the notion, very unladylike. “You think too highly of me, my Prince. I have none at all… Although I do think that they are all too scared of my older brothers to even try to court me.”

“Good,” he says once again. You look up towards him and see he is staring straight ahead, a satisfied smirk on his face. You want to ask him what has him grinning like a cat who got the cream, but before you get the chance to, Aemond turns to you and announces, “We’re here, my lady.”

You look at the building you are approaching in awe, the immense structure with the dome-like roof unlike anything you have seen before. You truly are not on Bear Island anymore.

Aemond leads you inside, once again a walking history book. As you take in the information, you clutch onto him a little bit tighter when he takes you down into the dungeons. Though brave, you are not stupid, and you knew if you were to stray away from Aemond, there is only one dragon there loyal to the prince – the others would not be as kind. So you and Aemond pass by the others without giving them much attention, only catching glimpses of them. All of them big and mighty, and yet not nearly as immense or as ferocious as the dragon you have come to be so fond of.

Finally, you make it to the largest holding area of the dungeon, the mighty beast inside laying down, resting.

“I took her for a long flight just this morning,” Aemond tells you with a smile. Then he parts from you, striding to the dragon first. Vhagar perks up when she hears him call her name, though only lifting up her head minutely. He stands beside her, murmurs something in High Valyrian, and then turns his heel to look towards you. Folding his arms behind his back, he waits.

Now both their attention are on you. Cautiously, you approach the she-dragon, not knowing if she remembers you or not. She huffs hot air through her nostrils as you get closer, but does not move, only her pupils following you. When you make it to the prince’s side, he gives you a nod of encouragement.

You reach out your hand, softly grazing the scales on Vhagar’s snout. Immediately, the she-dragon starts to rumble. Her eyes shut, basking in your touch and purrs even louder, happy.

You exchange a joyful laugh with the prince. Aemond places his hand on his dragon just beside yours and leans to whisper hotly in your ear, “It seems I am not the only one who missed you dearly.”

You can not help but burst inside with happiness.

For the next couple of days, you and the prince try to spend every waking hour together. Since the attention is mostly on Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena, Aemond had less commitments he had to attend to, leaving him with more free time than he has had the past three years. But he does get pulled away from you sometimes. Like this morning, after breaking fast together at the garden pavilion overlooking the ocean, leaving you with his sister, Princess Helaena.

You did not mind one bit, you quite enjoyed the princess’ company. Her eccentricities remind you a lot of your brother, Jorah — who chose to stay home with Braeden and your mother.

Like Jorah, Helaena talks your ear off about various subjects you are not familiar with. It is as if they think that if they know it, you know it as well. Still, you try to understand, asking questions when you see fit. It does not make things any more clear, but they seem to enjoy it all the same, and it makes you happy to indulge them with their special interest.

But when you do find yourself understanding what Helaena says, you notice that the princess has quite a funny side to her. Her jokes are very understated but intelligent, and when it hits, she has you laughing out loud. Even the dutiful royal guard following closely behind you and the princess cannot help but chuckle a bit.

The princess is so sweet and lovely, and it makes you all the more sad that in just a couple hours, she will be forced to marry her crude older brother.

You have only had the displeasure of being in Prince Aegon’s presence once – and thank the Old Gods, it was a very brief encounter because that was more than enough. Your skin still crawls in remembrance of his crass words towards you and the way he looked at you like you were merely just a piece of meat. He was lucky that he was pulled away to meet with some important Lord, because if it were not his brother, Aemond, to punch his lights out – holding back, with the knuckles of his fists whitening at his sides – it would have been your brother, Forrest, who also heard the Targaryen Prince.

“What are you thinking of, enkelitsos?”

You snap out of your thoughts, turning to Princess Helaena with a smile.

“Hmm…? Oh, it is nothing…” You say, then you tilt your head at her. “What does that mean, by the way?”

“Enkelitsos?” When you nod, Helaena poses another question, “My brother has not told you?”

“No, he calls me it often yet keeps me in the dark.”

Helaena giggles into her hand that is not wrapped around your arm, then looks up at the clear sky, seeming faraway from you now. “When my brother disappeared that winter day all those years ago… I had a dream that he fell and met an enkelitsos, surrounded by shrouds of snow. When your father wrote us that first raven from Bear Island, I did not even know where my brother ended up, but I asked my father to send Aemond back my note asking if he has met the enkelitsos,” she looks towards you now, a peaceful look softening her face, “He wrote me back that he had.”

Then like her brother, that is all she gives to you, and you are still no closer to figuring out what that Valyrian word even means. You can guess, sure, but you would rather not. So once again you are just hoping it means something good rather than bad.

---

On the walk with the princess, the two of you somehow ended up at the training yard.

It is bustling there. The air is heavy with the stench of sweat and grime. All of the men busy with practicing for the upcoming tournament later at noon, in celebration of the wedding taking place right after.

You catch sight of Forrest surrounded by four men, always the life of the party as his boisterous laugh and vibrant way of speaking enraptures their attention. There is a silver-haired fellow with your brother that could only be the coloring of someone of Valyrian blood, but his back is turned towards you to know who for sure. You know it’s not Aemond – for you know the sight of your prince’s back better than you know the back of your own hand – and it is certainly not Helaena’s husband-to-be. He stands tall and regal; reminiscent of Aemond, but not Aemond.

Could it be Aemond’s younger brother, Prince Daeron?

You had not have the chance to meet the youngest and most loved prince. He had been savoring his time in King’s Landing with old friends he left behind for Oldtown, poised to head back with his uncle directly after the wedding feast.

Forrest then spies you from over the man’s shoulder, mouth spreading in a wide grin and jovially waving. “Little cub!”

It has the silver-haired man turning around, and you see it is not the younger prince at all. This one is older than Aemond and even Prince Aegon, with roguish good looks.

This has to be the King’s younger brother and Aemond’s uncle — the rogue prince, Daemon Targaryen.

He follows behind your brother and Willam Stark, with two dark-haired boys in tow. The sly smirk that graces his face as he regards you and Princess Helaena has your companion pressing against your side closer.

“The halls ablaze brings a ring of blue,” the Princess murmurs beside you.

You turn to her, confused. “What was that, my princess?”

Helaena shakes her head, just as Forrest steps up in front of the both of you.

“Princess Helaena,” Forrest bows so deep, his knee hits the ground. “Your presence must be the reason for this beautiful, clear sky.”

Though you roll your eyes, you are grateful that Forrest has a certain effect on people as you feel Helaena relax beside you. She even giggles, offering your brother a playful curtsy of her own.

“Aye, get up. Before they make you the jester for the feast tonight,” Willam Stark chides, lightly kicking Forrest’s bum.

Forrest stands, brushing off the dirt on his back and knee while throwing Willam a cheeky grin. “Doubt they will make the winner of the tourney the jester.”

It was Willam’s turn to roll his eyes, not bothering to give Forrest a satisfaction of a reply for his cocky statement. Instead, Willam turns to Helaena and offers a well mannered bow, “My princess.”

Then to you, he takes you in a short yet tender hug. You squeeze him tight. For how long you’ve known Willam Stark – the younger brother of the Head of House Stark, Cregan Stark – and how close he is to your two oldest brothers, he is like family to you now too.

“I’m glad your travels went well, my lady,” Willam says after the two of you parted.

“I’m sorry yours did not go as smoothly, Willam,” you say, frowning. The Starks just arrived a day ago when they were supposed to arrive even earlier than your family. A brawl at an inn they had stayed at, Forrest told you last night after he helped the Stark men settle in. “At least you are here now, and safe. My brother was absolutely miserable without you.”

“Do not stroke his already huge ego, little cub.”

Both you and Willam snap at him a, “You’re one to talk.” and a “Says you?” – respectively.

Forrest frowns deeply in mock hurt, just as someone comes in for his defence, “Even from the little I’ve seen Lord Forrest fight, I think his ego is deserved.”

“How you flatter me so, Prince Daemon,” Forrest says with a bright smile, making space for said prince and the other two behind him to join your little circle.

So it is him, you think to yourself as Daemon’s eyes find yours, a mischievous twinkle in them. From the little Aemond has talked about him, Aemond seems to respect the rogue prince as equally as he did not like him — both highly.

You are not one to let others’ opinion form yours (except maybe when it is towards Prince Aegon) but when you give Prince Daemon a once over, you cannot stop the scowl from forming on your face. Because when you look down, what you see wrapped around Daemon’s grip is an all too familiar sword, a bear head crafted of silver signifying House Mormont at the pommel. You glare at his hand, like the heat of it will make him drop the precious sword so you can catch it. But fire cannot burn a dragon, and so you chose to glare daggers into his eyes instead.

If Daemon is confused or startled by the fire in your eyes, he does not let it show, the infuriating smirk still plastered on his face.

“I should give this back to you, Lord Forrest,” Prince Daemon says, handing over the Valyrian steel sword that had been in your family for generations back to your brother. “It is something treasured that should not be touched just by anyone.” He winks your way as he teases, “Isn’t that right, Lady Mormont?”

As you watch Forrest slide the sword back into its sheath by his side, you say with narrowed eyes now directed at your brother, “When Braeden passed over his inheritance of Longclaw over to you, he entrusted you not to just hand it over to anyone, all willy nilly… Even if it is towards a prince.”

Forrest huffs, clearly embarrassed to be scolded by his little sister in front of a group of people he respects. “Oh, come off it, little sister. Prince Daemon was merely looking. He has a Valyrian steel sword of his own, he does not need mine.”

Daemon chuckles. “You never know. Perhaps I may need it in the future.”

You glare at him again, not quite sure if he is joking or not. Forrest, on the other hand, takes it as a playful jest and laughs foolishly.

Once again, Helaena murmurs so quietly the strange phrase she had said before. The halls ablaze brings a ring of blue. Daemon overhears, titling his head in confusion at the young princess.

“How rude of me. My darling niece, I've not even greeted you — and on your wedding day,” Daemon says, taking Princess Helaena’s hand and places a dainty kiss on it. “Please forgive me.”

“It is alright, kepus,” Princess Helaena forgives, but she says it to the ground and is quick to snatch her hand away.

That is when you feel the weight of someone’s stare, and when you look, you lock eyes with the taller of the boys beside Prince Daemon. He jolts, his face turning red as he looks away – at the sky, the others around, the ground, everywhere, but on you.

He is quite handsome. You feel your cheeks heating up as well. You are not used to male attention, so when you get it, you do not know how to act. You wonder which House he is from–

“I hope today treats you well, Princess Helaena,” the younger and smaller of the two dark-haired boys says.

Helaena smiles, genuinely this time. “Thank you, Lucerys.”

That has you stilling, hearing the name. The boy looks so sweet, so young, so innocent, and yet… and yet..

“I also hope the same, princess,” the older one says to Helaena, and she nods sweetly to him. Then he takes a breath, puffs out his chest, and then turns to you with a boyish smile. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Mormont. I am Jacaerys Velaryon, but those close to me call me Jace.”

You felt traitorous, finding attraction towards the man who had a hand in traumatizing your best friend – the person you secretly claim to love – and left him blind in one eye. Even more so when he offers you his hand and you take it without question.

Then, as he keeps his gaze on you from under his long and dark lashes, he brings your hand up slowly towards him, has you sucking in a breath as his lips—

An ironclad grip wraps itself around Jace’s wrist, freezing you both in place before his mouth can touch your skin. You glance to your side and gasp, meeting Aemond’s furious face, nostrils flared and mouth pulled back in a sneer. His glare is not on you, but on his nephew, and yet, you feel just as ashamed.

“He was just introducing himself, nephew,” Daemon says with a huffy laugh. “No need to get your smallclothes in a twist.”

If Aemond heard him, he does not show — choosing to tighten his grip harder, making Jace wince in pain as he drops your hand.

Aemond does not take his eye off Jace when he grabs for your hand and wraps an arm around his sister. “Come, my mother is looking for Helaena.”

Then he takes the two of you away, the stares of the men left behind burning your back.

After taking Princess Helaena back to her solar to get ready for the festivities of the day, Aemond whisks you away to the private library he calls his own. The whole time though, he did not speak one word to you, fuming and brooding to himself.

And in this room, where the two of you are alone, he keeps it up. Still fuming and brooding as he stands by the hearth, staring at the fire he had just kindled.

You watch him from where you are sat on the floor, back against the wall and the cat you had helped name sleeping peacefully on your lap. Having had enough of the silent treatment, you thump the back of your head against the wall and say out loud, “You’re angry with me.”

The silence is even more deafening now that you tried to break it. Aemond lets it simmer for a while. Then finally he answers, clipped and short in tone, “No.”

He cannot even look your way when he says it. So how are you supposed to feel?

You are about to voice out this concern but then Aemond starts speaking again, “I’m angry with myself… for letting them get so close to you.” The fist he has clenched on his side hits the wall suddenly, startling you. “His filthy mouth almost touched you!”

It makes you frown, this side of the Targaryen prince. You don’t see it often, but when you do, it scares you sometimes. “Aemond, you’re being ridiculous. He was just being respectful.”

Aemond huffs out a mirthless laugh, finally turning towards you. “If you think he was doing that out of respect then you are more naive than I thought. Perhaps you are also blind to the many suitors I know you have, if that is the way you think.” He grins sardonically, aiming to be cruel and mean. “Although I did not think you would be one to fall to your feet for the lackluster charms of bastard boys.”

You hold his gaze, yours getting blurry with tears. Though before he can get the satisfaction of seeing a tear fall, you look down, threading your fingers through Snowball’s soft fur to help with your feelings of hurt. “That was mean, Aemond.”

Towards me and your nephews , you wanted to say. You know that Aemond has very valid reasons for his hatred towards his nephews, but you remember what your father had said before — holding a grudge leaves nothing but more pain in its wake, poisoning your own soul . It was a lesson for Jorah and Forrest, after another tiff between them, but it stuck to you too.

But you hate the way your voice had trembled when you spoke earlier, so you let it lay in your mind.

You hear Aemond sigh, then there is a shadow falling over you. You look up just as he starts to bend down, both knees on the ground to level with you. His face sullen, and sorry.

“I…” He takes a swallow, looking down at his hands he had on his lap. “I apologize deeply… for snapping at you when you did not deserve any heat of my ire. And for whisking you away in here without even asking… If you want to leave and go to the tourney instead, I will not stop you.”

You press your lips together, head shaking. Snowball is blinking up at you, awaking from his slumber, stretching his limbs in a yawn before curling up again, purring loud. You start to stroke his fur again as you tell Aemond, “I am content right here.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure Forrest would want you there, cheering for him.”

Smiling, you hum, “I’m sure he does… But I’ve spent my life watching him train all the time. It has become a bore. I do hope he wins though… he is determined to prove to Willam that he is the better warrior out of them…” You sigh, chuckling to yourself. “Those two are always butting heads… and swords.”

Aemond huffs out a laugh, smiling at each other, as if sharing a silent secret.

Then you take his hands from his lap, holding it in yours. It forces him to gaze into your eyes, his own violet eye sheepish. It is that soft look of his that has you confessing straight from your heart, “I did not come to King’s Landing for a tourney, or a wedding, or anything or anyone else.. I came to King's Landing for you, Aemond Targaryen. My best friend.”

Then you pull one hand away from him to pat the floor beside you, inviting him to sit with you.

“And I intend to spend all my time here with you, whether you like it or not.”

Aemond exhales a shuddering breath, as if he had been holding it the whole while you were speaking, then nods before he crawls and takes his place by your side, his hand still holding yours.

From your other side, you pick up a book on the floor, the one you had picked out earlier from a shelf when he was all taciturn and morose, and hand it over to him.

His eye widens as he recognizes the cover, “This is…”

You grin at him. It is his favorite book. One that he talked to you about often but could have never brought to Bear Island because of how big and heavy it was. He had told you many times over the years that once you visit him, he will read it for you, over and over again, until you have it memorized, until you are sick of it. So…

You lean close to him, whispering so soft yet he feels the tickle of your breath on his lips, “Can you read for me, Aemond?”

Aemond wets his lips, glancing from your pretty mouth to your big doe eyes, not knowing he had been leaning closer and closer with every passing second. Just when you were about to flutter your eyelids close, Aemond catches himself and moves back, smiles your way, tender and true.

Although a bit disappointed, he has you humming sweetly as you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder and pulls you tight towards him, getting comfortable in each other's company — like the two of you are little kids again in the common room of Mormont Keep – and he opens the book and reads.

It was impossible for Aemond to not lose track of time when your head is on his shoulder, your light laughter and clever commentary like music in his ears, and your heartbeat beating like one with his, lulling him deeper and deeper in that dreamland you two had created in the privacy of that library.

As the sun outside starts to set, the fire burning in the room gets brighter and brighter — but it is Snowball’s whining for food that has Aemond realizing that it is late. Really late.

The tournament is surely over and the wedding—

Seven hells. The wedding.

Aemond shakes you, stirring you awake from the sleep you had just succumbed to moments ago. He feels awful for it, wishing he could just let you rest on his shoulder like he wants to, but he has a duty to perform. Always the good and honorable son.

You don’t protest or whine, grasping the situation quickly, and he takes your hand to pull you up, taking off with one another.

Luckily, the two of you manage to make it to the Great Hall in time.

You catch sight of your brother-in-law close to the back, towering over the other guests, and you easily weave through the many bodies to slip beside your sister, her grin wide and happy to see you as she pulls you close with her arm around your hips.

Aemond, though, strides confidently down the middle of the hall, no one the wiser that he is late with how sure he carries himself. Except for his older brother, already standing in his place and waiting for his bride-to-be (wiggling his brows at Aemond when the younger passes him by, slyly making a gesture with one hand making a circle with his fingers and the other has two straighten out, pushing them towards the other) and his mother (clearly disappointed in Aemond’s unusual tardiness and confused as to why he wasn’t wearing the formal clothes she had his chambermaids lay out for him) — both to which he ignores, to take his place beside his younger brother, Daeron.

It is good that Daeron knows the time and place when to tease, can gauge how people are feeling, and so he just grins placidly at Aemond, before both their attention towards the opening of the huge double door of the Great Hall, the wedding about to begin.

---

The wedding was beautiful. Well, as beautiful as a loveless marriage between two siblings could be. Aegon was completely out of it, not bothering to hide how bored and listless he was, and Helaena was meek and quiet when she repeated her vows.

As Aemond watches them walk back down the long hall together, he cannot help but feel pity – for the both of them.

Yes, Aegon may be a twat but it must be a terrible weight on his shoulder. That ever since he was young, this was what he was destined for, out of duty for his family and the crown. Perhaps it is the reason he grew up to be so horrible, why he drinks, why he is the way he is.

And Helaena – sweet and dear, Helaena – could have had a pick of anyone she wanted, but here she is, stuck with her rude and crass, older brother.

As the crowd starts to disperse, Aemond stands there, thinking about you. How you and him could have a wedding ceremony just like this when he finally tells you how he feels for you. It will be even more grand and gorgeous because that is what you deserve, and because he loves you.

Or… Would he also be forced into a political marriage, to create a stronger alliance with some House that would never feel like a family to him like yours have? Forced to wed someone he does not love, while you slip through his fingers, married to another?

He swallows the lump in his throat, shaking away the dreaded thought.

Aemond’s eye searches for you now, knowing one look at you will bring him back to the library, bring him back that peace of mind you and him created in there, away from all this. He thinks he spies you near the back, but he quickly loses sight of you in the masses of guests heading out the Great Hall to get ready for the celebratory feast.

Though before he can move to really look for you, his mother grabs his arm and leads him to the back doors of the Great Hall, chastising to get properly dressed. Aemond looks back over his shoulder and sees the hall almost completely empty. He frowns, guessing he’ll have to wait to see you again.

---

After the wedding ceremony, you head back to your guest chamber, the swarm of guests leaving the Great Hall did not allow you to do anything else. Your sister accompanies you so the two of you can get ready for the dinner celebration together.

Dorothea has you sitting at the vanity, brushing careful strokes into your hair, making it shiny and pretty for the night. Your eyes are closed, humming in content. You miss this, it is like when you were little girls. You’d put up more of a fight back then but now…

Opening your eyes, you place a hand over Dorothea’s, stopping her mid-brush to find your gaze through the looking glass in front of you. “Come back to Bear Island with us. It’s been awfully lonely without you around.”

Dorothea looks down, hiding her smile, putting the hairbrush down to start braiding your hair in the way the pretty ladies in King’s Landing do. “I never thought I’d hear this from you. You’ve always been closer to our brothers than with me.”

“That’s not true!” You protest, shaking your head. Dorothea tuts and forces you to still. “I may jest with them more, but you have always been my favorite.”

Dorothea chuckles at that. “You are awfully bold tonight.”

Pouting, you whine in a way that only a little sister can get away with, “Can’t a girl just say what is in her heart without being questioned so much so?”

“Then tell me… Have you told the prince how you felt about him?”

This time, it is you who looks away from Dorothea’s gaze through the mirror. “I did not come here to burden him with my feelings.”

Your sister sighs. “You will not be burdening him with your feelings. Don't you see the way he looks at you?”

You bite down at your lower lip, not sure what hurts more – how your sister is pulling your hair back so tight that your face stretches with it or the hollow feeling in your chest. “I do… but… you were at the wedding. The princess and prince hold no love for one another, not even familial love… And Aemond… he is also the son of the King of the Seven Kingdoms. In line for the Iron Throne… We— it’s not a match, the two of us. As much as I want it to be.”

Dorothea frowns, letting your hair free to walk around you to kneel in front of you. She takes you by the shoulders to make you look her in the eyes, properly this time. “Don’t say that, little cub.”

You sniff, holding back the incoming tears. “Our house… it’s… We’re not…” You lick your lips, trying again, “What will they gain from letting Aemond marry me?”

Dorothea squeezes your shoulders in reassurance, then says, “They will gain a wonderful daughter-in-law. One who is smart, and strong, and stupidly stubborn, but lovable nonetheless. One that adores their son so much and looks at him as if he puts the stars in the sky.”

You manage to smile at her words, albeit one that is watery and sad.

“I don’t think that is enough,” you whisper to her, voice trembling for the second time that day.

Dorothea purses her lips together. Her silence an admission that you may be right.

---

When it came time to head to the Queen’s Ballroom for the wedding feast, it is like you and your sister did not have that talk at all, laughing together as you walk hand-in-hand. Following behind you two are your Lord Father, Lord Grover Tully, and his two grandsons, Elmo Tully, and Dorothea’s husband, Tobias Tully.

You are so content with your sister’s company that you do notice all the handsome lords that make eyes at you when you pass them by. Instead, you are more entranced by the delicious food filling the many tables, taking your pick and then offering a piece to your sister and father whenever you find something so mouthwateringly good.

You were in the process of popping a stuffed olive into your mouth when someone chose to slide up behind, shouting your name and startling you to choke on the darn thing.

“You idiot,” Dorothea hisses at her twin brother as she pats on your back to aid dislodge the olive stuck in your throat.

“I’m sorry, I did not– Are you alright, little cub?!” Forrest exclaims with worry, smacking his palm on your back as well. Finally, you cough out the olive, and thank the Gods for Dorothea, as she slides a small plate in front of you – making the sticky and wet olive fall on it instead of in your hand.

While Dorothea berates her twin, Forrest keeps asking if you were really alright. You wave him off with a laugh.

“Are you sure? Really sure?”

“Yes, Forrest. I’m quite sure,” you say once more with a playful roll of your eyes.

“Good,” Forrest sighs. “I was quite worried… Also for the fact I didn’t see you at the Tourney.”

“I was… Elsewhere. But I heard you got second! Congratulations!”

Forrest pouts now. “Thank you, but… I wanted to ask for your favor. I had to settle for Dorothea’s and I think that is why I did not win.”

Dorothea glares at him and snaps, “I can hear you, you know?”

Forrest throws a cheeky grin her way that has her eyes rolling, turning her attention towards her husband instead.

“But are you sure you are alright?” Forrest asks as he takes a careful hold of your hands, voice low and firm so only the two of you can hear. “I’m asking seriously this time… That scene in the training yard with Ae and his nephews… I’ve never seen him like that before.”

You squeeze your brother’s hands reassuringly. “It is alright. He has apologized.”

Forrest hums, frowning, but takes your word for it. Then he straightens up, happy-go-lucky Forrest again. “Then will you join me to sup tonight? Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra asked me to their table. They were quite impressed with my skills at the tourney. And well…” He whispers the next part, a teasing smirk on his lips, “There is a certain Velaryon boy that was quite taken by you, and they want you to join them as well.”

Before you can even accept or refuse, Dorothea nudges Forrest aside to wrap her arm around yours, as if to claim you for the night. “Nuh-uh. Our sister is to sit with me and my Lord-Husband tonight,” then to you she asks giddily, “Do you remember Jeremy Strong? Ser Fallon Strong’s second youngest? Well, ever since you visited Riverrun for my wedding, he had been asking about you and well, before, with the whole… situation, I let him down easy. But now after our talk…”

“A Strong? Over a Velaryon Prince for our lovely sister?” Forrest scoffs quietly. “You are a terrible matchmaker, Thea.”

“Titles and Family Names should not matter. What matters is a good man. You should know that, dear Forrest, with all your canoodling with the Stark —”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you both–” Your father cuts in, smiling fondly at his children before standing at your side. “But our little cub and I have been formally invited to dine with the King and the Queen tonight… And that is an invitation we simply cannot refuse.”

Then without another word, your father takes you by the arm, leading you away from your siblings that are as dumbfounded as you are.

---

Aemond is running late again. So late, in fact, that his mother has Daeron knocking on his door to chaperone him to the feast.

It puts Aemond in a foul mood. Or perhaps, fouler than the one he was in before, when he was all alone in his bedchamber, stewing in dreadful thoughts about the future – the reason he is running late in the first place.

Aemond waves off Daeron in a way that could also be interpreted as a more polite way of Aemond flipping him off. The youngest prince just shrugs, and follows closely behind his older brother as they make their way to the ballroom together.

Aemond thought that maybe once they reach the ballroom that he’ll be free to mingle, be free to find you. But of course it cannot be that easy, because what they find when they arrive is Ser Criston, waiting for them near the entrance of the ballroom to lead them straight to the main table of the room.

With not many options on where to sit now that almost all the guests have taken a seat at a table, Aemond plops down on the chair beside his mother, all sulky and surly.

Aegon is to his right, takes one look at the One-Eyed Prince’s face and laughs, hard – clearly already in his cups. Aemond simply shifts his body slightly more to the left to ignore him.

Only two empty chairs remain at their table beside Prince Daeron, who is sitting directly across Aemond. At first, Aemond thought it would be for his half-sister and heir to the throne, Princess Rhaenyra, and her uncle-husband, Prince Daemon, but he spies them at another table with Rhaenyra’s bastard children, and Princess Rhaenys and her granddaughters. It was probably by his mother’s arrangement to not sit them at their table — if it were up to his father, they would be by his side. His mother – though petty at times – would rather not ruin her two beloved childrens’ wedding day and end it with another huge family feud.

So who would be sitting on those empty chairs? From looking around, Aemond sees all his immediate family already sat. Could it be for the twin knights, Ser Arryk and Erryk Cargyll, the former being the champion of the Tournament, or maybe –

Suddenly, the Queen rises, beaming with joy. “Our guest of honor! It is lovely to see you two!”

Aemond glances over to who his mother is speaking to and what he sees has his eye widening, body moving on its own as he is standing up too.

Because it is you, standing right there at the other side of the table beside your father, and looking like an absolute daydream in that dress — no, the dress, the one he gifted you for your sixteenth name day.

Aemond had often dreamt about you wearing the cream colored dress ever since he got a look at it – how lovely the color would look against your skin, the way your dainty collarbones and shoulders will be on display due to the off the shoulder sleeves, and the elegant way you would move around him in it.

But, as you often proved, dreams could never compare to the brilliant reality of you.

He can’t keep his eye off of you. You have completely stolen his breath away — and his heart, once again.

He can tell you were very nervous, with the way your fingers twist together in front of you. But then your eyes meet his and you are exhaling out air as you stand up a little straighter, more sure of yourself.

Aemond smiles to himself. It is nice to know that he gives you as much ease as you give him.

“Sorry for the tardiness, your Grace,” your father apologizes, bowing his head at the Queen and the King.

“It’s alright, Lord Mormont,” The Queen shakes off with a kind smile. “The invitation was quite last minute, so I thank you for gracing us with your presence.”

Then she puts a hand on Aemond’s arm, a gesture for him to stay put, before she rounds the table to greet you and your father.

Queen Alicent talks to your father first, thanking him once again for taking care and bringing back Aemond safely all those years ago, and for always welcoming him to your home. Then King Viserys pipes up from the seat over where the Queen had been, too weak to stand up to greet your father properly, but your father leans over the table to shake his hand, and they start to converse as if old and very close friends.

That has the Queen’s attention flicking to you, and she smiles at you in a way that seems like she is about to burst into tears. Then you are being pulled into her tight embrace.

“It is so wonderful to finally meet you,” the Queen says softly into your ear. “Thank you for being such a good friend to our dearest Aemond.”

Alicent pulls back, but her hands are now on your arms. “I have heard so many wonderful things about you.”

You glance down bashfully. “Thank you, your Grace. I heard many a great things about you too.”

Neither of you hear Aegon’s comment, “Well, of course. Aemond, the mommy’s boy,” or how said ‘mommy’s boy’ kicks his shin from underneath the table.

Alicent then looks you over. Even if her stare is anything but scrutinizing, you still felt very self-conscious. The Queen is the very definition of perfection, and you cannot help but think of all your flaws in that very moment. Is your hair all in place? Is there food stuck in your teeth? What will she think about that scar you have on your arm from sparring with Jorah when you were young?

“You are such a darling girl,” Queen Alicent declares. “So pretty…” She then gasps, “Is this the dress Aemond and I have gotten made for you?”

You nod in confirmation. “It is. Thank you graciously, your grace.”

Alicent sighs, head shaking as she smiles at you and squeezes your arms. “Lovely…”

Then she breaks away fully, gesturing at the empty chairs for you and your father, “Come, sit! Sit!”

And when you take a seat, that is when Aemond finally sits down too.

You share a smile with your best friend, before turning to your left to greet his younger brother. Prince Daeron gives you a handsome grin and takes your hand to shake. But before you can take your hand back, he leans in close and murmurs hotly in your ear, “I would kiss your hand, but I heard whispers about what my dear brother did earlier to our nephew… And I’d rather keep my head, no matter how absolutely divine you are.”

You are a flush when he pulls away, the youngest prince silently laughing to himself, and your prince at the other side of the table narrows his eye in question at the exchange.

The main course of the dinner arrives and soon the Queen’s Ballroom is alive with joyous laughter and utensils scraping on plates. You are slow to eat and drink, afraid if you are not careful, you will stain your pretty dress with something you cannot get off of it. This also means you are a lot more sober than anyone else around you – even Aemond, who does not drink much or often.

He is so relaxed and happy, often looking towards you with that sweet smile on his face.

From beside him, his mother seems quite tipsy as well. She is staring at you, her chin in the palm of her hand.

“I apologize, Lady Mormont, I can’t seem to stop myself from looking at you,” Queen Alicent confesses, head tilting with a sigh. “You look even more gorgeous than that stunning painting Aemond has of you in his –”

“Mother!” Aemond sharply barks, the tip of his ears immediately burning bright red.

Maybe you are not as sober as you thought, because, what?

“Painting…? What painting?” You ask, confused.

Alicent is silent now, realizing she had blurted out something her son did not want you to know.

“Oh, right! That one!” Aegon exclaims, as if suddenly remembering. “The one that Aemond surely jerks it—”

The oldest prince groans, doubling over. The one responsible does not look sorry at all but just miserable now, his fingers pressed to his temple.

Luckily for Aemond’s (and Aegon’s) life, your father had gotten up moments before to chat with Forrest at his table.

“It is quite life-like!” Princess Helaena gleefully adds on from beside her brother-husband. “It looks exactly like you!”

Befuddled even more, your brows crease closer together. You try to get your best friend’s attention to make things a bit clearer, “Aemond..?”

But the one-eyed Prince is so embarrassed that he refuses to acknowledge you — leaving you in turmoil for the rest of the dinner.

---

Even when the plates start getting cleared away, Aemond still does not say one word to you.

Prince Daeron tries to ease the tension, making small talk with you about things that his brother could easily input a thought or two in. But Aemond doesn’t take the bait, not even then Daeron kicks him from under the table.

Although Prince Daeron is quite nice to talk to, you still felt very out of place – especially with how Aemond is ignoring you.

Every passing second, your smile feels more and more forced – until you cannot do it anymore, choosing to stare at your hands on your lap instead, making yourself small.

Seeing you like that has Prince Daeron huffing and shaking his head at the stupidity of his brother, and he decides to take matters into his own hands. He stands then and turns towards you, “Lady Mormont, will you honour me with a dance?”

With his jaw clenching at the question posed, Aemond feels your gaze turning to him, but he keeps his steady on the wall. You stare at his profile for another moment or two, then resign yourself to the fact that you are not going to get anything out of him – maybe not even for the rest of the night. So with a tight smile, you take Prince Daeron’s hand. “Of course, my Prince.”

As the youngest prince leads you out to where the other guests are dancing, Prince Aegon laughs out loud when Aemond furiously inhales deeply. “Seven hells, you’re an idiot.”

And for once in his life, Aemond thinks that Aegon might be right.

---

Aemond is watching you now, once again cannot take his eye off of you.

How can he when you are laughing so prettily, smiling freely, spinning around and around, and enchanting everyone with every twirl of your dress?

But he can’t even bring himself to find a little bit of joy for your happiness, not when the ones giving it to you are the admirers after admirers asking for your hand to dance, tripping over themselves to have even a morsel of your precious time.

Aemond is wild with jealousy, seething as he has Ser Criston murmuring in his ear who each one was.

Lord Thorin Tyrell. Ser Jonas Lannister. Lord Thomas Vance. Lord Alwyn Swyft.

And the one who currently has his arms around you now, making you beam from ear to ear, is Lord Jeremy Strong .

It’s nauseating, but at least it is not that bastard, Jacaerys. He has noticed his nephew making eyes at you all night. But he might not be as daft as he looks because he keeps his distance. Maybe what happened that afternoon still burned in his mind.

Good, Aemond sneers in his head, glaring at where Jace leans against a bannister, moping.

That is when Aemond realizes he is doing the same pitiful thing.

Feeling sorry for himself as he lets others get what he wants. It’s pathetic.

Having had enough, Aemond stands and straightens out his cufflinks before stalking his way to you.

As he gets nearer, he overhears the conversation you are having with the Lord leading you around the dancefloor.

“I did not mean to offend you, Jeremy. If I had known you were the one that made the dish, I wouldn’t have—”

“Wouldn’t have… so blatantly said it was revolting in front of me?”

“That was not the word I used! I just said it was bad!”

“Well, if it pleases you to hear, my Lady… I, uh, have gotten better at it.”

“...Truly?”

“Don’t– Don’t look so doubtful! Maybe I can, um, show you some time, how does breakfast–”

Aemond has to refrain his eye from rolling. Instead, he takes an interjecting step towards the two of you, his looming presence intense enough to halt you completely from moving even an inch.

When your eyes round at him, he simply smirks. “Lady Mormont, I believe I am owed a dance.”

You glance at Lord Strong, smile apologetic as you take your hands off him, a faint thank you for the dance out of your lips.

Aemond does not even spare a single glance at your partner for the whole interaction, his eye only on you. He hears the Lord murmur a low my prince out of respect, but Aemond doesn’t acknowledge it, just overtakes the Lord’s place in front of you, placing his hands possessively on your hips.

Although you put your hands on Aemond’s arms – thus accepting his invitation to dance – your gaze follows the retreating back of your previous dancing partner, a frown worrying your features. Then your fierce glare is on him, “That was pretty rude of you, don’t you think, my Prince?”

He should be happy that’s what he got out of me after he dare thinks he could just court you so easily at my home, in front of me, Aemond thinks uncivilly , Vhagar is itching to burn something alive.

But it would be unwise to say all that out loud, so he just presses his mouth together and holds his chin up a little higher, as if to let you know that what he is going to say next is not at all genuine, “I apologize for my very impertinent behavior towards Lord Strong. It shall not happen again.”

Your look of exasperation does not falter, but you do not move away, not even when Aemond pulls you to him a little more closer.

“I do also apologize though, for how I treated you at the dinner table,” Aemond murmurs, this time sincere. He takes a swallow, frowning. “I was… uncomfortable with some things that came to light. I could not face you to preserve my own selfish pride, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

You cannot help it, you are too soft for him. Your anger just dissipates away. Your hand skims down his arm, comforting him as you sway slowly together with the music from the band, “You’ve been apologizing to me quite a lot today, my prince.”

Aemond hums, head bowing low, his breath tickling your cheek when he speaks, “I intend to make it up to you, enkelitsos.”

From beneath your lashes, you peer at his hungry gaze, your nervous voice shyly asking, “And how will you do that, my prince?”

And again, as if gravity is simply forcing the two of you to each other, the distance between you and the prince closes in more.

Too close to be appropriate in a hall full of nobles, with eyes that see and mouths that talk.

From the main table, Queen Alicent is one of those eyes and mouth. Fondly, she leans to her husband to comment, “Aemond looks so smitten.”

But beside the jovially laughing King, the man with the gold hand pinned on his chest watches too – disapproval strong in the lines of his face.

---

With the Bedding Ceremony underway, it is easier for Prince Aemond to sneak you into his bedchamber. Still, if the two of you were caught, the punishment will be harsh. But he has one goal in mind and he intends to see it through – to show you the painting that caused quite a stir at dinner.

“I promise you it is not as strange as you think it is,” Aemond says, his hand holding yours as he leads you carefully yet swiftly through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast.

You huff, pressing your back against the wall when Aemond does, watching as the prince peers around the corner. “Do not put words into my mouth, Aemond! I do not think it is strange. I just want to know what it is!”

“It’s–” he stops, then he is tugging you to move again, across the hall and into a door that leads to a stone staircase. As you climb the steps with him, Aemond continues, “Well, you’ll see soon. We’re almost there.”

Your heartbeat is beating so fast at the thrill of all the sneaking around. But as exhilarating as it is, you were delighted to finally be pulled into the safety of Aemond’s bedchamber, to allow the pulsing in your veins to finally calm and to breathe normally again.

Or at least you try… Because it is then when it comes to you that you are in Aemond’s bedchamber, alone with the prince.

You don't know how you do it, but you are the perfect image of serenity when you glance around the room to take everything in.

Nothing there was really surprising to you. He keeps his own bedchamber the same way he kept the guest chamber that is his in Mormont Keep – pristine, and not a thing out of place. But there are things around that make your heart sing with delight – the little gifts you and your family have given the prince throughout the years.

The long black leather gloves that Jorah made, with an embroidered red of the House Targaryen sigil by you on the cuffs, hanging on the handle of his armoire. Wooden Cyvasse pieces crafted by Braeden on a fancy marbled Cyvasse board — reminding you that Aemond still hasn’t beaten your oldest brother yet. The leather ball by the foot of his bed, the one that he kicked in the goal and earned a victorious win with Forrest in a game of mob football with the other kids on the island. A very amateur drawing you made of you and him riding Vhagar in a golden frame on the bedside table. A leather bound journal on his desk, gifted by your mother and father, looking well-loved and well-used. And many, many more.

He keeps it intertwined with his other things, as if they are as precious as the golds, jewels, and all the other clearly more valuable items he has.

And that is when you see it, hanging on the wall opposite of his bed, surrounded by the golden ornate frame, is you — brought to life on a canvas by talented strokes of rich oil paints.

“This… Dorothea painted this,” you inform Aemond – who stands in the center of the room with his hand nervously clasped behind his back – as if he already did not know.

“Yes, she did.”

As you continue to stare at the painting in disbelief, you start to recount, “I… I remember this day so clearly. She made me sit in her room for hours and hours – seven to be exact. Believe me, I counted. And then after she was finished… The next day, it was just… gone . I was mad at her for weeks. I couldn’t believe how she wasted my time, and she cannot even explain how it disappeared. But now—” You look at him, a mirthful smile on your lips, “She sent it to you.”

Aemond nods slow, taking steps to meet you by your side. “When I couldn’t travel to visit you, I was slowly succumbing to a state of dep—” he clears his throat, and tries again, “Deep discontent. I just wanted to see you, but I could not. So I sent Dorothea a letter in hopes that she can provide me with a picture of you. I just wanted something small but what she sent back was… Well, I am grateful, but I asked her not to tell you about it. Not even the part where I wanted a picture in the first place.”

“Oh Gods,” you mutter, slapping a palm on your forehead. You remember that too. When you start to laugh, Aemond looks down at you with confusion.

“I thought you were writing those letters to Dorothea because you were courting her,” you say in between fits of giggles. So all those days you spent crying in bed were all for nothing? How your heart only truly mended when you watched Dorothea make her way down the aisle because that means that Aemond could not have her anymore? You feel so utterly silly.

There is a grimace on Aemond’s face that makes you laugh even harder. “She was so secretive with them, so I did not know what else to think!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Aemond says, as if you are offending him. “I could never look at Dorothea in that way.”

“And why not? ” Now it’s your turn to be offended, on behalf of your sister. “Everyone is in love with Dorothea! She’s so pretty, and clearly very talented, and so polite, and—”

The way Aemond takes your hands in his has you shutting up your prattling.

The prince shifts closer, your hands intertwined together over his heart, his gaze heavy on you as his forehead press against yours.

“Because I…” he breathes, and his mouth – his sinfully alluring mouth, crafted so prettily by the Gods – so close to yours, only breadths away. It is hard to tear your attention away from the way his tongue peeks out of to wet his lips, but you do, only to witness the beauty of his violet eye just as he confesses, “I’ve only ever had eyes for you.”

And you don’t even know who makes the first move. It might have been you. It might have been him. But his mouth is on yours, and yours are on his, and that is all that matters.

Aemond’s lips are as heavenly as you dreamt them to be. So soft yet firm, and he knows the right pressure to apply with them to have you moaning against his mouth.

You feel his smile, and he murmurs how delectable you are before his tongue laves along the seam of your lips, asking for permission. You give in to him, also craving for more.

As the kiss deepens, you pull your hands away from his to wrap around his strong shoulders, and he places his own greedy on your hips, gripping tight onto the willowy fabric of your dress. You feel like you should be embarrassed about the needy, whimpering sounds you are making, but you’re not.

Aemond starts moving now, pulling you back with him, though his hungry lips stay attacking your lips. Although your own kisses are unpracticed, it fills you with some strange sort of satisfaction that you have the prince panting in your mouth, desperate for more. His mouth so hot you are getting delirious.

“Aemond…” you gasp, so sweetly, when you part for an intake of air. The prince growls, nipping along the underside of your jaw. “Please…”

You don’t even know what you are asking for.

He turns you around, so sudden it has you gasping and grasping onto the footboard of his bed. His lips are quick to latch back on your skin, mouthing down the side of your neck while his fingers unties the lacing on the back of your dress. With every undoing of the silk ribbon, the bustier gets looser, causing your breast to spill out, the heat of Aemond’s palm on one of them without a moment’s delay, squeezing.

Your whole body is lit ablaze, burning hotter and hotter as more and more of you is becoming exposed to Aemond’s eye as your dress starts to fall – his mouth now kissing down your spine, following the fabric down – and drops onto a heap on the tiled floor.

Then Aemond is straightening up, his hands tender on you, skimming across your shoulders, putting your nerves at ease under his touch.

“Gevie… ” He whispers hotly in your ear, his fingers now in your hair, undoing the braids and letting the strands free. You know that one, gevie, a word he taught you after you had wanted to compliment Vhagar.

Beautiful .

Your eyes flutter shut, humming under his gentle ministration.

And that is when you feel him, hard, pressed against your lower back, rubbing onto you. You bite down your bottom lip, suppressing a wanton moan.

Once he is done with undoing all the intricate braids in your hair, he is turning you around again to face him, this time more gentle. You are a flush, his eye roaming on your bare body – completely and wholeheartedly just for him.

You don’t know how or why, but you don’t feel self conscious at all under the heated gaze of your prince. If anything, you might be bolder, standing on the tip of your toes to press another desperate kiss on Aemond’s lips.

“I want you so much,” he tells you; voice low, breath heavy, and eye full of lust.

Your lashes flutter at him, smiling wide as you cannot contain the happiness inside from bursting out. “And I want just as much. Perhaps, more.”

He takes your hand, his grinning lips grazing the knuckles. “I don’t think that is possible.”

Then he leads around to the side of the bed, lays you down with such care, your head landing gently on the rich duvet. He does not join you, not yet, still standing beside the bed frame.

You call for him, desire burning between your thighs.

What is he waiting for?

You sit up your elbows to watch him, watching you as he wordlessly unfastens the sashed belt around his waist and unbuttons the form-fitting leather tunic he is wearing, stripping both off unceremoniously. Your mouth gapes open at the sight of his marbled and broad chest, marveling at how gorgeously toned it is, defined by years and years of special training.

There is a cocky smirk on his lips as he starts to unlace his breeches. His ego inflating as you eye the thickness of him with a hard swallow. He takes himself in his hand while he kicks away the rest of his clothes – now as naked as you are.

He crawls onto the bed now, his knee sliding in between your thighs, his mouth on yours again – he simply cannot get enough.

You cannot not think straight, you need him so much it makes you dizzy. You need to ground yourself, so you touch his chest, feel the solid planes of it, his heartbeat beating fast underneath your palm. It makes you feel so safe. Aemond makes you feel so safe.

Aemond’s hands are roaming too, worshiping every inch of your body as if you are the altar he prays to. Fondling your breast, tweaking your nipples until they harden, clutching at your hips and your thighs so hard that it will leave bruises… And then his fingers – your heartbeat speeding up so — his fingers trail along the juncture of your thigh, so close to where you want him most.

You moan wantonly, throwing your head back and baring your neck for him. Without even noticing, you also part your thighs further apart, allowing him easier access.

“Needy ,” he tuts with a huffed out chuckle, teeth biting to leave a mark on the underside of your jaw. Aemond looks down to where his hand is, exhaling out a shaky breath as fingers slide closer to the dewy folds of your precious cunt. He groans when he finds you dripping wet, and it’s because of him. All for him. “So bloody needy.”

His fingers make a mess of you, rubbing so firmly yet tenderly at your sensitive clit. You’ve done this to yourself before, but somehow the way Aemond does it feels different. Better . He has your hips moving on its own, your mouth crying out his name, and your cunt clenching, begging to be filled.

Then a finger starts to press inside you — thicker than your own, thicker than what you are used to.

Aemond sees how you squeeze your eyes shut, and he stills. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes flutter open to Aemond’s face of concern, and you quickly nod, clutching a hand on his arm. “Yes, please keep going.”

He watches you carefully for a moment, to make sure this is what you really want. When he deems your words true, he starts to move his hand again, his finger slowly sliding in and out of your entrance, coming out wetter and wetter each time. You start to pant softly, licks of pleasure rolling through you.

He eases another digit in, scissoring the two apart inside of you. You bite your lip, hips lifting off the bed at the slightly uncomfortable feeling. But it doesn’t take long for the fuzzy, good feeling to take over you again. So much so that when he presses his thumb on your clit again, you start to tremble, whimpering as you peak for the first time, your sweet juices spilling over his fingers and onto the sheet beneath you.

“You’re so good for me, enkelitsos,” your prince praises, has you preening underneath him as he places a kiss on each of your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and your lips. He then sits up on his knees, palming his hard cock again. Still trying to catch your breath, you watch in fascination as he spreads the precum beading at the tip along the rest of him. “Think you can take me now?”

Although extremely nervous, you find yourself nodding at Aemond.

You have had lessons about this before, about the deflowering, from your mother, your septa, and even Dorothea, but never in great detail. You do not know what to expect.

But what you do know is that Aemond will treat you right.

He bends over you, one hand gripping his cock while the other is beside your head, pressed against the bed to keep him from falling on top of you. He teases the tip of him on your still sensitive nub, making you shiver, sliding himself up and down along your folds to build up anticipation. But his set on torturing you has the same affect on himself. Not when you feel so warm and good and was so tight around just two of his fingers.

Aemond curses under his breath, unable to put it off anymore. He guides his cock to the entrance of your cunt, pushing inside with a low, impassioned groan.

You are so bloody tight, it feels too good. But he knows you need to adjust to his size, the rapid clenching of your walls letting him know you are trying to get used to his cock.

He sees you blinking away the tears. It hurts, but not as much as you thought it would.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Aemond murmurs as his head falls, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, finding comfort there as he inhales the scent of you.

And in that moment, you knew you are so full of love for him, snuffling as you nudge your nose into his hair. “I’m ready, Aemond.”

He peers at you, his hand finding yours, intertwining together as he starts to move.

He fills you to the brim in one slow thrust, hilting as his hips knock against yours. You are stretched tight around his throbbing cock, the pushing and pulling building up something fierce inside of you. He buries himself deep inside, over and over again, slamming into you like a man possessed.

The heat of his mouth is burning like the dragon he is, open above yours, hovering and close enough to touch, but they don’t — only moaning your passion for each other.

He pulls you up suddenly, still deep inside you. Has you sitting on his lap, hands gripping on your hips as he makes you move, making you bounce on his cock. He sets the pace, and you are completely under his control, letting him with no regret.

“Ae!” You cry out, feeling him hit so deep, the head of his cock probably already breaching the deepest parts of you. Your arms are wrapped tight around him, tears streaming from your eyes, all out of pleasure and none out of pain.

“Peak for me, my love,” Aemond demands, an animalistic growl rumbling his throat. “Come all over my cock as I spill my seed inside you.”

And you do. Breaking again just as his cum fills you up, just like he promised.

He kisses you deeply one last time before you are both flopping on his bed, completely boneless and aching with exhaustion.

You lay there for some time in your lover’s embrace, completely content in the silence save for the evening out of both your heavy breathing.

Is it possible to be this happy? You must have saved a million lives in your past life for just this moment. You cannot believe how lucky you are to fall in love with your best friend.

To have someone you love everything about.

“Eye…” You say softly, but it still breaks the quiet between you. Aemond hums in question, his fingertips absentmindedly trailing over your skin, just to feel you. You roll to your side to look at him, his hand gripping your hip when you do so. “Eye… you only have an eye for me. Earlier you said eyes , during your confession. But, you only have one …”

That has Aemond spluttering, mouth opening and closing in sheer disbelief.

And then he is laughing, fingers digging into your sides, tickling you into a fit of giggles. “You cheeky, little…”

As you two laugh, you grab onto his face to press a sweet kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he is not laughing anymore, and neither are you. You lick your lips, staring into his violet eyes, “But this one eye.. It is the beautiful eye I fell in love with… When you opened them to look at me that first night.”

Aemond’s eye waters as he lets out a shaky breath, pressing a kiss on your inner wrist. Then his hand is moving behind his head, unclasping his eyepatch.

It has you holding your breath. You have not seen Aemond without his eyepatch since the first time he landed on Bear Island. So why is he now taking it off?

As Aemond lets it fall onto his hand, what you see has you gasping softly.

For it is your sapphire there, taking the place of his missing eye.

You reach your hand up, running your thumb tenderly along the bags underneath it. Aemond hums happily, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.

“I keep it here because I… I always want you with me,” he declares. “The woman who has my heart wholeheartedly and for evermore.”

You say his name, so full of fondness. He kisses you fiercely, puts all his feelings in it that he cannot put into words anymore.

“I want to be selfish now,” you say against his lips, already dreading the thought of leaving him in the morrow. “I want you to write to me everyday. I do not even care if you have nothing at all to say.”

“I will do that, enkelitsos. And many more.”

“Like what?”

Aemond simply smirks, before he is descending kisses down your body, your hand threading into his hair and pulling as his tongue spreads over you.

---

Prince Aemond sends you off a day later with a tight embrace – stealing your kisses in every shadowed corner of the Keep as the two of you made your way to your father waiting at the gates – and you are barely even out King’s Landing but he is already in his bedchamber, writing you a raven that will be waiting for you when you arrive back home. He will keep good on his promise, writing to you every day. Greedy to steal more of your heart with every prose he writes about how much he loves you, how he cannot wait to see you again, and more salacious things that will make your whole body heat up.

With the first letter done, he makes his way to the rookery.

When he steps inside, he almost collides into the Hand of the King, his grandfather, Otto Hightower.

“My apologies, grandfather,” Aemond says, stepping aside to let him pass.

“It is alright, my prince,” his grandfather says, about to take his leave.

“Important business?” Aemond cannot help but ask, stopping the Hand on his track. He does not see his grandfather at rookery much — or at all, if he thinks about it. He usually has his serving boys deliver his scrolls to the rookery Maesters. So whatever he is here for is probably important enough for him to hand it off himself.

“Yes, you can say that…” Otto says with a stiff smile, glances over his shoulder and giving the Maester a solid nod — a silent understanding between them. He then pats his grandson’s arm before walking out the open door.

Aemond is used to his grandfather’s taciturn ways, so he lets him be, turning to the Maester with a grin. “A raven to Bear Island, if you have the time.”

---

Aemond waits, and waits, and waits. Several moons pass, many letters written, and the couriers traveling back and forth… Still, he gets nothing back at all from you.

And so like the harsh temperament of the North, he fears you have completely iced him out of your life.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd #aemond #aemond targaryen

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