#house of the dragon angst
Text
Losing Dogs
Neither you or Aegon wanted to get married. Neither you or Aegon wanted to marry each other. But at some point, you figured you should make the most of what you had, and so you offer your husband a deal he cannot refuse.
Aegon Targaryen x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage/loveless marriage, smut (piv, virginity loss, rough/loveless sex) DD:DNE, alcoholism, violence, suicide/suicidal thoughts & ideation, mentions of domestic/child abuse, death, pregnancy/misarrange, aegon's mommy issues, insecurities, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: ... i had something to say about this fic but i forgot... maybe ill remember later???? edit: i did not remember. i thought of mitski while entitling this so go play i bet on losing dogs ig?
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @azperja @sloanexx @risefallrise
You don't know what you have until it's gone.
Aegon only truly understood what this meant the day he was married and he was forbidden to drink a drop of alcohol.
As if it wasn't painful enough that he was going to be married to a complete stranger from some house he's never fucking heard of, he was erratic and uneasy the whole day because of the withdrawal. He loathes the preparation, the ceremony, the fucking pageantry of it all.
He thinks it was worse that you seemed to be so chipper the entire time. You smiled with a halo, skin shining with the light. You also seemingly did no wrong, judging by the praises you received from his mother and grandfather. But, who was he kidding, of course they fucking loved you, they chose you to be his prison keeper.
You did not press him once, not when you were preparing for the ceremony, not when you were at the feast, not even after the Queen encouraged you to dance.
Anyone with eyes could see from how he slumped on his chair during dinner that Aegon would rather die than circle around the room to this grating noise echoing the room.
The band begins to play another song and another round of dancing ensues.
He stares at the food on the table. Oh, to be a suckling pig.
The relief that coursed through him when he could finally leave was enough to knock him out. Except, he really wanted, no, needed a drink.
He crashes on his bed, belly down, and reaches for the cabinet door on his bedside table. He feels for his bottle, hand knocking into the corners of the compartment, but he sits up when he finds nothing.
He growls in frustration upon realizing this was definitely his mother's doing. Thief!
"I managed a cup."
Aegon struggles to look over his shoulder from his position. He rolls on his back as you walk to the side of the bed.
He stares at you. You offer a glass holding burgundy liquid. Your voice is soft and kind as you explain, "your mother would suspect me if I took a whole bottle."
Aegon pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He gulps at the wine you were offering.
Sure, he may not be the brightest, but anyone could tell this scene was the epitome of ulterior motives. Aegon leans on his thighs, "why are you doing this?"
You stare a moment. You clutch the cup in both hands and examine it. Again, your voice is gentle, "you are clearly in torment. It hurts my heart."
His eye twitches.
I see. It seems you were a fucking saint.
Aegon rips the glass out of your hands, some of the wine spills over. He downs the contents in one go, then chucks the glass across the room once he finished.
He looks back at you, glaring with watery eyes. He was exhausted, he was angry, and he wanted you to know it. But you don't flinch at the sound of the glass breaking. You didn't flinch at all when he showed aggression. Why didn't you flinch?
You press your lips and sigh. You step towards him and reach out.
He nervously straightens up and tilts his head back as you approach. His breath hitches when your warm hand touches his cheek. He blinks rapidly.
"It's been a long day. Would you like me to help you change?"
Again, his eye twitches.
And then he realizes what you mean.
Ah. So, this is what you wanted?
He releases a breath, eyes lowering. Your face falls into a slight frown.
He thinks about it for a moment. I mean, sex was sex and he was game. It didn't matter how he performed, his completion was all that mattered, really. And you were pretty enough, albeit irritatingly good.
When you stroke his hair, Aegon pulls at your skirts, causing you to squeak and topple, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Your faces are inches apart. He pulls you down until you have no other choice than to sit on his lap.
You can smell the remnants of the wine he just drank on his breath. Aegon brings his face closer to yours, and you let out a soft 'hmp'. You mutter, "I gather you don't want to change, but want to get out of your clothes."
He narrows his eyes as you shift on his lap and undo the buttons by his chest. He mutters dumbly, "this is what you wanted."
With knit brows, you retort, "I've not yet told you what I wanted." You shift on his lap again as you peel his top off. Amidst it, he asks, "what do you want?"
You grunt after ridding him of his top. You fold it in your arms then set it aside on the bed. You turn back to him. Aegon's breath hitches when you fondle with strings of his undershirt. He watches your lips as you mumble, "I want you to give me a ride on your dragon."
He furrows his brows. But that's what he just said.
You stand, only to lift your skirt and take your place back on his lap. This time, you straddle him.
Aegon gulps, hands coming to your hips like a magnet. He feels you grind on him; shaky breaths leave his lips in response. His hands scratch up your back and a moan escapes him when your nails trace his collarbones.
"Allow me one trip on Sunfyre, and in return, I'll be your magic lamp," you whisper, taking one of his hands, bringing it to the side of your ribs, "you may rub me where you like-"
His heart skips when you kiss his cheek.
"-and I will grant you all your wishes."
Aegon ticks.
The next moment, he pushes you down on the bed. He doesn't bother getting either of you naked, nor does he prepare you at all in fact. Thankfully, you were already wet.
You don't have the opportunity to ask him to be gentle, to explain you were a bride after all, and it was your wedding night.
Aegon grips your skirts as he fucks you like he means to prove a point. He snaps his hips roughly into you to assert dominance, to exemplify control. Sure, you offered yourself to him, but he was the one doing the work, and you were the one beneath him.
In truth, the pace he set gave you more pain rather than pleasure. And with how pent up he was, the rough tempo he set burnt him out way too quickly before it could make any of you feel good. And when he begins to lag, you start to feel good.
You notice this change and rub your nose against his. He recoils, unused to affection when fucking. It snaps him back into an aggressive trance.
You yelp. Aegon convinced himself it was a sound of bliss.
You kiss his jaw and work your way to his ear, hoping to calm him down. He tenses at the feel of your tongue on his lobe. It stokes flames in his belly and makes him involuntarily roll his hips slower to focus on the attention you're giving. In return, his pace is just enough for him to hit that spot that makes you throw your head back.
Aegon is startled by the scratchy groan that leaves your throat. He finds himself lifting his head to spectate, but you pull him into you by the nape and groan, "like that. Please- gods - that feels good."
His brows tense and he rolls his hips again, finding the same reaction.
You wrap your arms and legs around him, uncaring of how hot and sweaty you were getting. In the heat of the moment, you reach for his lips, needing them, needing something to wrap your own on.
Aegon kisses you. He kisses you with a strange twinge in his chest. He kisses you until he has to pull away and reposition himself to catch his building climax.
In a second, he's back to his fuck-loving self, only self-serving and lustful. As he gazes upon your writhing body, catching the beads of sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face, and the way you chant his name as you part your legs for him, he's overcome by another spirit. To watch you break, to watch you coil and collapse around him felt just as urgent as his need to come.
And so Aegon rubs your clit and forces you to peak first; you do it so well he curses loudly and comes after.
He lays on top of you for a moment, the overwhelming need to be held ripples through his body. He recalls how his whores shoo him away after he's done fucking them though. Before you can cradle him in your arms, he rolls off you.
You close your legs and and watch him strip himself and sequentially change. You watch him get back in bed and bring himself underneath the covers. He goes to sleep.
He fucking goes to sleep.
You feel hollow after this, but tell yourself it's nothing personal. You repeat this as you, yourself, get up and change, sequentially sleeping too. Or at least you try. You have fight the urge to cry for hours before you do.
The next morning, you bring up dragon riding to Aegon, and disappointed as you are, you are unsurprised to find that he was unwilling to give you such a thing.
It was a plain thing you were asking for, you explain. And it's exactly why he doesn't want to do it. It's clearly some trick, something to trap him, something he's going to regret. It was probably some ploy orchestrated by his mother.
Oh gods, he thinks, it's worse. It's a bonding experience so you can make him into your puppet. Fuck. No.
So, he does what he does best, and makes an excuse, "I don't feel like riding today. I'm still exhausted from the festivities."
You purse your lips and nod, "that's understandable. Would you like for me to get you something?"
Wait. You weren't going to argue about him not keeping his end of the deal?
You seem to catch this, considering your response and the way you take his hand. You place his palm on your chest. He can feel your pulse quicken as you mutter, "I am your magic lamp, husband. I wish to please you. I will prove this until you trust me enough to grant me a ride on dragonback."
He narrows his eyes, "you would grant me wishes, all in return for a ride on Sunfyre?"
You smile softly at him, "in return for respite, yes."
He doesn't trust your smile.
"I want to visit the Grey Cliffs. I have for a years now. I went there once as a child and long to go again."
"Why?" he knits his brows at your explanation, "what's there?"
You lower his hand and rub his skin, "respite, my prince."
Aegon pulls his hand away.
Very well. If that is what you want, then he will wear your wishes dry until you find it no longer worth the trouble.
Aegon wishes on his lamp everyday, and his wife sequentially plays entertainer, jester, servant, and slave.
He makes you bring a bottle of wine with you everywhere, and pour him a cup when he wishes. He loathes how you seem unbothered by it. He loathes how you don't even correct a visiting Lord who mistakes you for a cupbearer and simply serve him some wine. The Lord is mortified when he realizes you are his wife, a fucking princess. Aegon hates how you tell the man you were unbothered because you spent your whole life being a cupbearer to your father anyway.
He makes you do trivial tasks as well, sometimes tasks meant for more than one person at a time, and yet you still manage to do them, annoyingly better than the maids. When he demanded you cook him a full course meal, you did so all by yourself, and had the servants looking at you like you were some goddess.
He ripped a hole in his clothes then made you mend it. You covered the hole so seamlessly that he poked a bigger one right in front of you. And even then you don't give him the satisfaction of getting angry. You tell him you will embroider something on top of the hole and he storms off. He overhears you telling the servants, who applaud your level-headedness, that you were used to angry men, because your father was just the same.
You use each of these moments to somehow tell him you were the perfect wife and he had to oblige your stupid request at some point.
But then he found your flaw.
Aegon asked you to play the harpsichord for him, and you told him you did not know how. The woman who knew all did not know something? He would then proceed to hang this over your head. When he asked you for food, he'd tell you how much better it'd taste if he had entertainment. If he asked you to do something physically taxing for him, he's say that he wouldn't have asked you to do it, had you known how to play his 'favorite' instrument. He would use this as the reason why he could never bring you to Grey Cliffs.
It was all fun and games, but then you had to snitch, hadn't you?
"What are you doing to that poor girl!" Queen Alicent barked, making his ears ring.
Aegon groans from where he lies in bed. His mother rips the blankets off him, making him wake in a sour mood.
"She is your wife!" Alicent yells, "not your slave! Fine, you wish her to do tasks for you, tasks for your betterment. But to insult her standing by treating her like a maid is beneath a prince, Aegon!"
Aegon feels his throat tighten at the sight of his angry mother's face, "she is my wife," he growls, "I do with her as I please."
She strikes his cheek.
Aegon's head whips to the side. He doesn't have the energy to look back at her.
"You will no longer parade her as a cupbearer. I will have it decreed you are not ever served a drop of wine if you don't."
Alicent leaves after this. Aegon's anger explodes when the door closes.
He screams and rips at his hair. He kicks furniture around and eventually drops to the floor, exhausted, furious, and hurt. This was all your fault.
He screams again and claws the tears on his face. He slowly exhales through tight lips. His cheek is hot with saltwater. Who was he joking, this was all him.
This was all Aegon's doing.
His breathing is impeded by snot. He walks over to his window and stares at the ground below. If he jumps head first, not even the best maester in Westeros could fix him.
Before he can lean on the ledge, he is paralyzed in his spot by the sound of the door opening.
"I did not know she would be angry with you," you say.
Aegon looks back.
You see his red eyes and wet skin. He is a mirror to your younger self. You feel sick to your stomach. You try to explain, "I only asked if she could find a harpsichord teacher. I did not realize she would take offense in wanting to learn to play for you."
Aegon's heart aches at your naïve response. You were a stupid, perfect wife, and he, a stupid, petulant husband.
"I'm better off dead," he mumbles, looking back out the window. The call of the fall felt inviting, "want to push me, wife?"
You don't respond.
Aegon looks back at you, and suddenly you're only inches away. He tries to evade you, but you manage to catch his hand.
"We could jump together."
"What?"
Your face is blank. You part your lips, and for a moment, your eyes seem desperate, but then it's gone. You sigh, "dying is quite lonely," looking down, "I could keep you company."
Aegon stares at you. Tears stream down his face. "You're mad," he sniffles, yanking his hand away.
He walks over to his bed and collapses on it. He wraps himself in a blanket and feels sorry for himself, and angry at you for suggesting such a thing. Even now you want to be perfect by dying with him?
"I am," you mutter.
Aegon watches as you walk over to him. You sit on the floor beside his bed and look at your hands as you rub them.
"I cannot play the harpsichord, because my father does not like noise," you explain, "I was not allowed to make a sound or else I would be punished."
Aegon covers his head with a blanket but keeps his face visible, "he beat you, didn't he?"
You look at him, eyes melancholy, but still, he is the only one crying, "he beat everyone."
Aegon does not respond.
"I can sing though."
His brow raises, "how can you sing?"
"I would practice whenever he was gone, and sing for my mother in secret. It made her happy... happy enough."
He knew there was more to this confession, but he was too tired to ask about it, too tired to shed more tears.
"Would you like me to sing for you?"
"No."
"..."
"..."
"Would you like me to hold you?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
You stand from where you sat and get on the edge of the bed. Aegon watches as you slowly lie beside him. You bring an arm over him and pull him close. Aegon closes his eyes as you bring him into your chest.
You hold him until he falls asleep. Later that night, he asks you to hold him again. He also asks you to sing to him.
Aegon nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso, digging his fingers between your flesh and the bed. Your hushed voice reverberates in the bedroom, the song you sing is haunting and soothing. The vibrations from your chest lull him to sleep. You feel wetness pool by your clavicle but you make no note of it.
Aegon asks you to hold him the next morning after breaking fast. He asks you to stay with him in bed and to sing to him some more. When you have to leave his side, he asks to join you and waits until he can have you in his arms again.
Aegon becomes your shadow, and follows you around, under the promise of getting to share in your embrace. As you read and review letters or ledgers, your seat becomes Aegon's lap. He sleeps against you while you work without a fuss, cheek pressed against your back, arms fastened around your waist.
Sometimes, he notices the line that forms between your brows while you read and at some point, asks about it. You explain what causes it, and he is unmoved, as he is uninterested in politics that stress you. But when you read out to him, he finds comfort in your voice and asks you to read some. He falls asleep to your calm droning of circumstances he could not care less about. He groans and groggily awakens when you stop. He mumbles against your skin that you continue, pleadingly so.
When you had to leave the Keep for business, Aegon insisted that he joined you. When you brushed his cheek and explained to him why he could not go and that you would not be long, Aegon pushed you away and stormed off. You left without him anyway, and the treachery he felt was so great, he realized then how he could no longer go day to day without you. What was there to do, if you were not there?
And so Aegon desperately rubs his magic lamp and wishes upon you.
He wishes that you never leave without him again once you return.
He wishes that you promise to no longer make plans without him.
He traps you beneath him on your shared bed and wishes to be inside you. He kisses you and wishes to see you completely bared to him.
Aegon's mind is dizzy as he gazes upon the glory of your skin. He kisses your thighs, your hips, your breast, your lips.
Aegon wishes to surrender to you. He wishes that you undress him then pulls you on his body like a blanket. He wishes to see you take control. He wishes to see you cast your eyes upon him and lay your weight on his body.
He wishes to see you use him, to take what you need from him, to pleasure yourself, and to make him yours. He squeezes your thighs desperately when you moan out his name. This was much more maddening that what he imagined it would be.
He wishes to feel you come undone around him. He wishes he could forever feel the pleasure he did when he comes right after you do.
He wishes to hold you after. And when he holds you, when you lay on his chest and kiss him there, he wishes to never leave this moment ever again. He wishes to sing to you like you've sung to him.
"What are your plans tomorrow," Aegon asks as he draws nothings on your back.
You lift your head from his chest. He looks at you. You smile, "whatever you wish them to be."
He rubs your back and smiles, "I wish to take you to the Grey Cliffs."
Your expression drops, "what?"
He raises a brow at your reaction. You shift on your place. You straddle him again.
He looks up at you, noticing the line between your brows. He rubs your thighs, "you've granted me all my wishes. It's time I grant you yours." He shifts on his elbows and sits himself up, "it's time you meet my mount and-"
"We don't have to," you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders.
Aegon examines your expression. He listens to you sigh.
"I'd like to keep you-- wish to keep you..." you correct yourself, pushing him back down.
He looks up at you, feeling your hands rake up his body.
"...just like this," you finish, eyes solemn, lips curving into a soft smile, "I've not felt a thing like this in my entire life."
Aegon takes one of your hands and places it on his cheek. He whispers it like a secret, "neither have I."
You lean down to kiss him, "I wish to keep like this."
He kisses you back.
He is blindsided by how his wishes come to bite him in the arse. It's all crashing down on him. Suddenly, he wishes he didn't actually do any of those things with you.
He most of all wishes he heard you wrong. He wishes you didn't repeat yourself when he stupidly said, "what?"
"I'm with child," you speak slower, less excited yet excited still.
Aegon wishes you didn't look so excited. He wishes he fucking pulled out, but gods, you felt so good-- you feel so good around him, he felt so good inside you.
He realized the next moment, it couldn't be helped. You were going to have to bear his kids at one point or another. He wishes you didn't have to. He wishes his seed wouldn't take completely. He wishes you don't take it to term. He wishes he won't have to be a father. Fuck.
He realizes he's been too quiet and you were waiting for a response from him. Your face began to twist. Your smile fades.
"Congratulations," Aegon musters. He feels like he swallowed a metal ball. His eyes wander to your belly. He mumbles mindlessly, "I suppose."
Your face falls.
Aegon looks back at you. Your face is devoid of any semblance of the glow it normally holds. You look sick. You feel sick.
"I see," you say, unintentionally allowing him to hear your voice break. Aegon's brows furrow at it.
He shakes his head, "you will be a great mother," he chuckles dryly, "you mother me so well."
You offer him a smile, but Aegon can see how disconnected it was from your eyes. You say, "thank you."
When you leave him after this, he wishes he hadn't said a word. He wishes he just left it at congratulations. He wishes he just pretended like the idea of having a child didn't mortify him and make him sick to his stomach. He wishes he wasn't so ill-suited to be a father.
Ageon no longer wishes for anything after this.
He no longer wishes to hold you, though he so badly wanted to. He no longer wishes to hear you sing, nor does he wish to hear you read to him. He no longer wishes to be around you, though his body urged him to follow you around like the lost soul he was.
He wishes he didn't wonder what you were doing at every moment of the day. He so desperately wishes to rid you from his mind completely that he drowns himself in his first and only true love, alcohol.
Fuck. He wishes he hadn't taken this route to his room. He wishes you hadn't taken this route to wherever it was you were going. He wishes he just turned around and fled like the coward he was, because then, you wouldn't have spoken to him.
"Husband," you curtsey.
Aegon stiffens and uncomfortably avoids your eyes.
You catch it, feeling your chest tighten painfully. You clear your throat and take a deep breath to steel yourself, "I thought you should know that I will be travelling."
Aegon looks at you.
"I have a ship ready and I'll be visiting the Grey Cliffs. Do not wait up for me."
His face falls. He opens his mouth, but doesn't have an opportunity to speak.
"I thought you should also know that I am no longer carrying."
His eyes widen.
"It's not an uncommon occurrence the first few months," you say simply, "I suppose the gods do not wish me to be a mother."
Aegon feels like a murderer. He wants to say something, to apologize, to comfort you, but he can't. He's too taken aback to do a single thing.
He turns into stone when you take his hand. You step forward and place his palm on your chest. Your heart is slow as you speak, "you won't have to worry about anything anymore, Aegon. Today is the end of our shared torment."
Aegon's stomach drops when you kiss him.
His eyes are glassy. You pull away before you can kiss him back. He wants to hold you, but the sadness in your eyes reminds him he is undeserving. You kiss his wrist, "goodbye, my love. I love you."
His heart thumps as you walk away.
Aegon is manic. He basks in the mess he's made and feels crushed by it all.
He finally acts after wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. You were long out of his sight by the time he started running. This is why he headed to the dragonpit and got on Sunfyre.
"WAIT!" he screams, just as your boat leaves the dock.
Aegon watches as you run to the edge of the boat. He lands Sunfyre and runs as far to the edge of the docks as he could.
"Aegon-"
"Take me with you!" he pleads, "let me be the one to take you to where you must go!"
You look back. The ship stops. The crew brings down a boat and on it, you are rowed back to the dock.
He crushes you in his arms once he reaches you.
"Aegon," you mutter.
"Forgive me," he shudders, "I... I wish you let me do this for you."
"Aegon," your voice croaks. You push him away, "go home."
His heart drops. He breaks away to look at you. Your words feel like a stab at his thorax. It was presumptuous of him to assume you'd want him back, but it doesn't kill him inside any less.
"I've come to realize this is a trip I must go on myself," you mutter.
He shakes his head, "no. Please." He motions an arm out to his mount, "one wish. That I grant you one wish before you throw me away forever is... is--"
Your throat constricts at his words. Tears rush down your eyes, "I'm not throwing you away--"
"Please," he squeezes both your hands in his, "please, let me do this for you."
The flight to the Grey Cliffs is quiet, save for the whoosh of winds and the roars of the golden dragon you both rode. You always imagined it would be freeing, but only now did you know how it freeing it truly felt to fly. You knew now you'd forever chase the euphoric crush of air against your skin.
Aegon, who sat behind you, looks at your form as you outstretch your arms and close your eyes. Your body presses against him, and in this moment, he is unable to hold back from wrapping an arm around you and sparing a kiss on your shoulder. You are snapped out of your trance because of this.
The Grey Cliffs are dark and gloomy when you get there. Aegon realizes when you land that it got its name from the weather conditions.
He helps you down and surveys the area, trying to make out which part of this drear land was so special to you that you wished to go here.
You catch his expression and squeeze his hand.
Aegon turns to you.
You give a solemn look, "the view is better on the edge."
Aegon strokes Sunfyre's cheek, commanding him to stay before you lead him by the hand to the edge of the cliff. Once you get there, he feels queasy looking down at the crashing waves far beneath him. In contrast, you seem comforted by the view. His brows furrow at the deep breath you give out.
When you look at him, his stomach feels it, the comfort you felt upon witnessing the violent waves. Whatever it was that compelled you to this place was the same force that compelled him to kiss you.
He reaches out for your cheek, his other hand coming to you back. He pulls you close. His heart twinges when you stop him from kissing you.
"Aegon-"
"Forgive me," he cuts, "I beg."
You gawk at him. He brushes your hair which was wildly flinging with the breeze.
"You must know by now that I am craven. I lack the spine and the wit to be of any use to you."
Your eyes water. Your lips quiver.
"I would be a hopeless father, worse than my own, no doubt."
"Aegon," you babble as sobs overtake you.
Aegon, himself, succumbs to tears. He wipes the ones streaming down your face before taking a breath, "but you made me feel a love I do not deserve."
You swallow a heavy lump in your throat.
"I love you," he confesses.
"No," you pierce his heart. You shake your head in disagreement, "Aegon, this is a mistake. Bringing you here was a mistake."
"No!" he blurts louder than needed, "this was a choice," he looks down, "I choose to rip my insides out for you to devour. I am miserable, much more in the heat of your hate, but most of all without you."
His downturned eyes land on your face when you grab his wrists. You croak, "I do not hate you."
Aegon is not relieved by the admission, but he chooses to believe you mean it. He smiles softly, "good."
"But I do hate this life I live."
He clenches his jaw. Of course you do.
"You saved me," you press a hand on his cheek, taking your turn to wipe his tears, "even if for a moment."
"I made you miserable."
You chuckle. The sound makes his heart skip.
"You filled my life with purpose," you smile softly, "even when you did not mean to."
Aegon knits his brows deeply and takes your hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses them.
"But accidents happen. You must remember that accidents happen all the time."
Aegon shakes his head, "this is not an accident. Believe me when I say I chose to do this, I- ... I choose to love you."
You sob and turn to your feet.
"Please... believe me."
You sniffle and nod, slowly looking up at him, "I believe you."
You lunge into his arms and seal him into a tight hug. He hugs you back like it's his only way of surviving.
A crack of thunder startles Sunfyre. He becomes restless and steals away Aegon's attention, panicked that he might flee and leave them here.
He pulls away and takes a step towards her. He holds your hand, urging you to follow, "we should go before it rains."
You hug him from behind and press your face into his back, "thank you for taking me on Sunfyre."
"It was a long time coming."
"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly. And now that I know how peaceful it is, I'm ready to fly one last time."
He turns to you as you slowly come to his side. You hold his hand. He looks at you as you turn to Sunfyre. He promises, "I will take you on dragonback as many times as you wish."
You smile, but your eyes are fixed on his dragon. You release his hand and wrap your arms around yourself, "he is beautiful. You must never tire looking at him."
Aegon gazes upon Sunfyre. He takes in his golden scales and has newfound appreciation.
You take a step back.
"He is. To be honest, it's been long since I, myself, took him out of the pit. He must enjoy this day as much as you do."
"Aegon, you must understand that what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."
Aegon turns to you. He watches you tighten your arms around yourself. You must be cold. He rubs your shoulders.
You shake your head and turn him back to his dragon, "look at Sunfyre."
He knits his brows, "I'm looking."
"For so long," you release him, "I've wanted to fly free, to find my peace here in the cliffs. This was before I even met you." You point at the golden dragon, "I choose to love you too, but accidents happen, like if Sunfyre were to fly away, and you were to be left here alone."
Aegon stares at his ride for a moment as you lower your hand. He tries to makes sense of your words, but he cannot for the life of him understand.
He sighs, "what accident? Why do you keep-"
Aegon is flooded by confusion when he turns and finds you nowhere behind him. A split second later, he lets a horrified scream and the fear that claws into him makes his knees buckle. He crumbles to the ground and crawls to the edge of the cliff. He screams so loud that Sunfyre roars back and comes towards him.
Aegon watches as the red seafoam bubbles at the foot of the cliff. He watches as the crimson waves slowly slosh back into its original tint.
Rain begins to pour, and his tears taste no longer salty.
Was this the flying you ached for? Was this the relief you sought?
When he returns to King's Landing, dripping wet, he breaks down in front of his mother, weeping as he clutched his skirts.
Queen Alicent is obviously disturbed. She instructs her servants to get his son a change of clothes and some towels. She looks down at him, "what's happened? What's wrong, Aegon?"
"An accident-" he barely manages to say, "there's been an accident."
"An accident?!"
Aegon's mind goes blank. A bitter taste
You don't know what you have until it's gone.
#aegon fanfic#aegon targaryen fanfic#aegon targaryen#aegon smut#aegon angst#aegon targaryen angst#house of the dragon angst#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon#aegon x reader#aegon x you#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen fanfic#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen x you#aegon ii fanfic
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(in the still of the night | aemond targaryen x strong! reader)
summary: the reader and aemond reconnect at the red keep after years of being apart. it is here the both of you reconnect with the reemerging memories of when the both of you were young. memories in italics.
warnings: mentions of death and murder, betrothal, sexual tension but no smut, yet. cursing?
word count: 3,835 words.
authors note: i do hope you enjoy reading this as much as i have had writing it. please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you do enjoy. if this does well i will make a second part that will be absolutely filthy.
it was odd to you. the memories that flooded to you so clearly as you walked down the halls of the castle. eyes catching the stained glass windows of dragons, carefully moving up the stone steps as you did as a child. you remembered all the times you tripped down them, bruising your knees chasing after the young prince's. you remembered of how you ran down the halls hiding from them. you remembered sneaking out at night to the kitchens and eating cakes in the gardens under the light of the moon with aemond until your eldest brother dragged you back to your chambers.
yet, it was now as you remembered how close you and aemond had been as children. your eyes catching the garden from within the castle walls.
"y/n! y/n, wait up." aemond's voice rang in your head. nothing more than just a whisper as the two of your crept through the halls. aemond in his sleep shirt and you in your nightgown. if the two of you had not been children the situation would have been frowned upon, heavily. for you more than him considering your status as a lady.
you bare feet slowed as you looked behind you. waiting for an out of breath aemond to catch up. the targaryen prince had been holding a napkin, the cloth tied shut, and his fist holding the knot tightly. aemond took your hand in his own once he reached you, pulling you with him now through the halls and into the gardens. your feet ran against the soft grass and under the godswood. you sat beside the prince, as your little fingers fumbled with the tight knot. aemond helped you untie it and slid himself closer to you. the both of you side by side and your little fingers were pinching at the lemon cake.
"i stole this at dinner," aemond informed you as he shoved some of the cake in his mouth.
"did anyone see you?" you questioned softly, filling your own mouth as you did.
"just aegon-" aemond stopped himself. the boy remembered of how aegon called him a pig for taking more. though, he knew not of the nights that he shared with you, and aemond simply told his older brother to fuck off. "but he doesn't know." aemond assured you.
"good, your brother likes to make the worst of everything. doesn't he?" you remarked rather casually- but aemond had stopped eating. your dark eyes looking up now with regret in your own words. you had known how his brother and his nephews would torment him. aemond told you, here in the gardens, when the both of you were alone. "aemond-" your voice soft, your hand going to meet his again to comfort him.
what little comfort you felt you could offer. you hadn't known it now, but it was the only comfort aemond had ever known.
"it would be different if i too had a dragon." aemond defended himself, his eyes saddened and he looked down to his lap.
"dragons aren't everything, aemond. i don't have a dragon and i'm-" you were trying to comfort him, but the boy was quick to snap again.
"you wouldn't understand y/n- you're just a strong." aemond snapped at you. you closed your mouth and looked away, aemond quickly realizing his mistake in snapping at you and his hands grabbed at yours again. "no, no, y/n. i'm sorry. i didn't mean it in that way" he pleaded with you. his voice near begging you to turn to look at him. his fingers placed at your jaw as you turned to meet his eyes. "i'm a targaryen. we're dragon riders; all of them are but me. and- and its not fair" aemond eventually crumbled. you recalled as tears had begun to run from his eyes. aemond fell into your arms and wept.
"i'm sorry, aemond. i am." you whispered in an attempt to comfort him. your arms wrapped around the crying boy and help him close, he would sniffle and eventually pulled himself together.
"i wish i could take you on dragon back with me. so that way you would understand." aemond pleaded.
"maybe one day you will," you smiled to him and aemond smiled back to you at the very thought.
the sweet moment between the two of you was short lived, as your eldest brother harwin came storming into the garden. you barely had a moment to scramble to your feet before he grabbed onto your arm.
"y/n, how many times have i told you not to be sneaking out with the prince after dark?" harwin questioned you. your face went pale as his dark eyes peered into your own. "keep this up and i'll tell father you need to go back home. to harrenhal." he threatened. you began to resist him, began to plead, but aemond would have none of this.
"ser harwin strong. you will let lady y/n go. your prince demands it." aemond's voice was weak but he knew what to say. harwin, however, looked to the boy debating on what to do. "unhand her or i will tell my mother what you've done here on this night" aemond threatened again.,
harwin let go of your arm in a bit of a gruff, "the king wants the both of you in bed. go on your way or i will tell father, y/n." he demanded. the two of you would run off to your own chambers. but it was far from the last time the both of you had snuck out.
you were only a babe when your father brought you with him to the red keep. his first daughter, the product of his third wife. lyonel strong the newly appointed hand of the king had hoped that the court of the red keep would raise his daughter well. that you would grow in the mannerisms of a lady. lyonel thought this was be good for you. but if he had known of what was to happen he would have never allowed your mother to carry you past the door.
it was there in the red keep that you were raised closely with the kings own children as well as the princess's sons. the seven of you were only children, but even then the tensions had grown. even though you were only a girl you could see it. though, the turmoil's of your life had made you long forget the ones held at the court of the red keep.
your eyes stared at the godswood, reminiscing when you hear someone summon you.
"lady tyrell, it has been too long since you've last visited the red keep." you heard a voice call from behind you, lady tyrell a name you never really adjusted too. behind you was the sight of the queen.
"you grace," you bowed before her, queen alicent. "that it has been," you smiled to her softly.
"you're not with your husband?" she questioned you, her own hands brought together.
"no. lord tyrell is resting from the journey. he does not do well in far travels. even in the carriage." you insisted, giving her a smile to which alicent nodded in understanding.
"well, i do hope you get the chance to properly visit with aemond while you're here. i recall the two of you were good friends all those years ago." alicent spoke very matter of fact, but the mention of aemond was enough to make you smile.
"yes. i recall the same," you hummed. "where is the prince? i do hope our paths may cross before I retire with my husband." you questioned alicent who could not resist the smile that fell on her pale lips.
"aemond? he's off with vhagar, of course." alicent was practically musing.
you never got the privilege to see aemond on a dragon. you heard word at high garden when prince aemond lost his eyes. when he claimed vhagar as his dragon. there had never been a smile on your face like the one you had that day. though, you wished the letter would have been from aemond. for reasons that seemed obvious now aemond never wrote to you and you were never allowed to write to him.
perhaps it had been more obvious to everyone, but the both of you that the two of you were smitten over each other at a young age. perhaps it was the fact you were children, or perhaps it was that each of you lacked the confidence, but neither of you were able to see it yourself. aegon would constantly berate aemond every time he looked longingly in your direction. "can't you be more obvious? looking at y/n like she's a dragon. like looking at things you'll never have?" aegon would taunt constantly. he would get close to you. his hands wrapping around yours as you played just to bother his brother.
but you had never seen it. now, you could look back on your time together and the feeling in your chest grew warm. though the feeling was quickly snuffed out by the reminder of your station. a married woman. your husband was many years your successor and the two of you were yet to conceive a child after all these years together. your marriage to him felt like torture as the years passed on. he was never specifically cruel or vile towards you, not in the way that you heard stories of men hitting their wives or calling them names. but there had been no love in your marriage and you knew that you never would come to love him. for when you looked into his eyes all you could feel was loss. perhaps things could have been different had your father not betrothed you so young.
even that night as you laid next to your sleeping husband under the canopy you were unable to find sleep. you had hoped the journey would be enough to make you rest and yet? your eyes continued to look at the black silk of the canopy curtains. you stood from the bed, pulling on a robe to cover your nightgown, and quietly left the bedroom chambers. you walked along the torches through the halls you would sneak around when you were a child. there was an uneasiness about walking amongst the castle this late. part of you worried that harwin would be around the corner ready to scream at you to go back to your chambers. another part of you feared your own father may come to question why you were out of bed. though, you reminded yourself that was not possible. if anyone were to come for you here it would be larys. your last brother. the one who summoned you and your husband to the red keep in the first place.
it was a cruel thought to think. but you often thought of what your life would have become if your father would have died after your betrothal. if larys would have allowed you to stay there, with him at the red keep. it was a bitter thought. wishing he had been dead sooner, and yet? you thought it often. you didn't want to. in fact you tried not to think of nothing at all. your feet reached the open gardens and you paid no mind to the bitter air that attacked your exposed skin. you tried to look at the godswood, at the flowers in the moon light. anything to not think about your father or harwin. however, at the red keep again the thoughts felt impossible to keep away. you could not begin but to remember of how you cried the day that you found out your father had betrothed you after lord tyrell's first wife had passed. you went crying from the room after begging him and pleading with him to change his mind. to reconsider. but your father had made his decision. he promised you that one day you would thank him for the position he arranged for you. a chuckled slipped your lips, wondering if the time to be thankful would ever come.
"still sneaking away from your chambers at night?" the voice mused on. it was familiar and you could not help the smile that flooded to your lips as your turned around to see behind. before you stood aemond targaryen. taller than you remembered, leaner, his hair long and a patch covering his eye. he had been dressed in black, from head to toe. aemond did not look as you remembered him to look. though you were sure you did not look as he had remembered you either. still, the both of you smiled to one another.
"aemond-" you cheered gleefully. you were quick to rush into his arms. it was not proper of either of you. both knowing anyone could see, that neither of you respected the formalities. that the two of you now stood in the gardens as you did when you were children. his arms wrapped tightly around the frame of your body and your face nuzzled into his chest. you would hold one another for longer than two friends should before creating distance again. you looked up at aemond's face and his eye had been on you and only you. "you've grown-" you remarked, the smile not fading from your lips.
"as have you, y/n" aemond spoke. he reached out, carefully. taking your hand in his own and beginning to pull you along with him gently. "come on, y/n. there's something i want to show you." aemond instructed you. there was a small part of you that knew you shouldn't go with him. that you were a married lady in her night clothes with nothing but a robe to keep your modesty. though you followed aemond, without a second thought. despite what you knew you did not hesitate as aemond led you through the castle and you blindly followed him through the red keep. down the castle stairs and outside beyond the castle walls.
"should we be here, aemond?" you questioned following him blindly into the dark.
"if i told you we weren't would you turn back?" aemond did not as much as look to you he only continued walking.
"never" you confessed.
"then, no. we shouldn't. but i've been waiting years to show you vhagar" aemond continued to lead you through the field but it was easy to see her. the sight of her was near frightening to you. involuntarily your body moved closer to aemond's, the sight of her was frightening, but aemond could not help but to smile as he watched you cower. "it's okay. she won't hurt you when you're with me. i swear it." he reassured you as he approached vhagar.
your eyes took in the dragon before you and aemond was quick to move to the netting that hung from her side. one of his hands gripping onto it as he once again pulled you close to him. "you trust me, don't do you?" aemond questioned his hand bringing yours to the rope.
"yes," you confessed near breathless. it was now that aemond helped you up the dragon's side. him behind you, arms wrapped around grabbing onto the net, as he helped you climb her. when finally up, one of his hands gently held your waist get onto the saddle. aemond quickly pulled himself behind you. both of his hands pulling you from behind in a way that your back was against his chest and his arms were wrapped around your torso as he grabbed the reigns of the dragon. this was the moment that aemond has always wanted to show you, and as vhagar took off he could not contain the smile that made his way to his face as he watched your first ride on a dragon. aemond would take you flying on vhagar, the wind in your hair as you screamed with joy. your robe no longer tied as aemond kept his arms wrapped around you tightly. where aemond took you was unrecognizable to you now. some distant place from kingslanding; perhaps you knew it when you were a child but you had known it no longer now. aemond was quiet at the two of you sat on the ground. his arms were still wrapped around yours and his eye had been looking to you.
"i have missed you, here. y/n . . . " aemond confessed as your eyes looked up to meet his. a soft smile glowing on your lips.
"as i have missed you, my prince" you cooed to him softly, sitting up so that the two of you could be face to face. there was a silence that followed. a feeling that did not go away and it strained your chest and weakened your legs. you felt it when he looked at you the way he did now. aemond's hand cradled your face, pulling you close to him by your jaw, and without asking he pressed his lips onto yours. you kissed him back, your soft subtle lips that fought against his own. his hand grabbing onto the neckline of your nightgown as he begun to pull at it, exposing the skin of your shoulder. the sudden feeling of your duty flooding you through the mess of passionate kisses the two of you were ingulfed in.
"wait, wait- aemond we shouldn't do this." you attempted to stop what was unfolding before you. aemond kissed you again, and once again you kissed him back. your eyes closed before pulling yourself from his lips again. a nearly impossible task. "no, aemond. i'm married. i have a husband-" you pleaded.
the very mention of your husband was enough to make his blood boil. his face went cold for a moment as aemond remembered when he had found out about your betrothal. you were only given a day to pack your belongings and leave for high garden.
aemond remembered how your father had pulled his sobbing daughter away from the prince. he too had been in tears at the announcement. it was the last time he had seen you. being dragged by your father as you sobbed. the image of you in tears stuck in his mind as the years passed. you hadn't known this; your father never told you, and aemond never got the chance to, but the moment your father dragged you away aemond went running in tears to his mother. the youngest born prince burst into her room and ran to her. alicent's arms opened immediately and frantically.
"what is it? what happened, aemond? tell me-" alicent went frantic. she had never seen aemond so upset before and she worried that someone had been hurt.
"he betrothed her- y/n. lynoel strong. he betrothed her to the lord of high garden. he- he-" aemond was sobbing and alicent's arms were quick to wrap around her son. she had known what everyone around the castle had known. if anything she was waiting for this day to come and she rubbed her sons back as he wept into her chest.
"oh, aemond." alicent sighed. the queen paused attempting to gather some kind of comfort for her youngest son. "there comes a time in every young girls life when she must be betrothed. to become a wife." alicent begun to give her speech but aemond begun to push her back his face now red and flushed with anger.
"mother. no- i'm not upset about her being betrothed. i just-" aemoond stopped himself for a second before finally letting it out. "she should have been betrothed to me! not some lord of high garden. a rose? we're dragons- why not me?" aemond was sobbing again. "is it because i'm not the first born son?" he questioned tears in his eyes again. "is it because i don't have a dragon?" aemond wept again.
"no no, aemond. that's not why, darling" alicent quickly tried to scoop up her son, but he pushed her away the moment she came in contact with him. "aemond, please- i know she is your friend-" alicent hardly got a chance to get her words out before aemond interrupted her again.
"she's not just my friend." aemond spoke up, feeling a need to make his message clear on how important this was to him. "she's the only person in this whole bloody castle who treats me like i'm not wrothless." aemond spat out through his own sobs. alicent looked with sympathetic eyes. unsure what she had the power to do and in turn, she caved.
"i will offer lord strong a marriage proposal for her hand in place of lord tyrell. do you understand?" alicent attempted to clean her son's face. aemond would nod finally accepting his mothers arms again.
alicent would make the proposal to lynoel strong. y/n strong and prince aemond targaryen, to be wed in a few years time. but your father denied it without consideration. he did not waiver. he did not even give her a reasonable doubt. instead, lynoel sent you away to high garden and you watched, weeping out of a carriage window unaware that aemond was even an option for you. aemond, however, had known that some day you would return to him. if it were by the hands of the gods or his own hand.
now you were in his arms and there had only been one problem. your husband. something aemond thought about long before you arrived. "y/n. your husbands dead-" aemond informed you, he did not waiver. not once as he spoke. a look of confusion consumed your features.
"aemond . . ." you trailed off in your own confusion. "what are you talking about?" you questioned him brows furrowed together.
"he's gone, y/n. dead. that fat fool was smothered in his bed." aemond informed you without mercy. without remorse. still you looked at him in confusion, horror- unsure on how to process what aemond was saying to you.
"aemond. did you- did you have my husband killed?" you asked bluntly. there had been no mannerism that could have asked what you were asking him now. what you had already known. aemond smiled.
"obviously. hadn't you wondered why larys requested that the both of you come to kings landing? come on, y/n. i know after all these years at high garden you haven't become daft. i never stopped thinking about you." aemond confessed, his hand returned to your jaw and gently pulled you in closer to him. eye to eye, nose to nose. "even the largest dragon in the world could not fill the hole that you left behind." he confessed, his breath hot on your face.
"say you'll marry me. we'll set things right. say you'll marry me and be my wife. marry me and carry my heirs. say it, y/n." aemond was practically pleading with you. but the pleading had not been necessary. aemond had you wrapped around his finger.
"i'll marry you-"
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond one eye#prince aemond#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x helaena targaryen#aemond targaryen one shot#aegon targaryen#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen smut#house of the dragon#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon angst#house of the dragon x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon targeryen x reader
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you tore my world in two
daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader
synopsis: giving birth to a targaryen child was never easy
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
you were writhing. your hands clutched at the bed sheets before you as another scream rippled from your throat. you didn’t feel anything that wasn’t the feeling of your body being torn apart.
“the child-“ your midwife panted as you felt her hand, “finally!” she shrieked, and the need to push arrived again, and you screamed, heavily as you cried.
daemon was watching you from the doorframe, he was frozen with shock as he watched you, his heart pounded in his chest as he watched you cry.
the baby made no noise as you finally birthed it. a slap on the back of the baby’s chest was heard but no cry. your face was wet with tears, your brow drenched with sweat. your blood was falling onto the floor in puddles, red, sorrowful puddles.
daemon couldn’t take his mind off what he had done to you, what this child brought onto you. now the child couldn’t even give his own mother the decency of crying, a reward for the price you had paid.
you beckoned daemon to look at the child, your eye lids were slowly wavering, you started to feel the heaviness of your body, and you felt yourself slip off the edge of the bed.
daemon ran towards you, his arms catching you before you hit the stone cold floor. you were light as a feather, blood still pooled from between your legs and your skin was colorless, even your white hair was graying. he was watching you die, he was holding you as you were dying.
you awoke slowly. your eyes were crusted shut, your body felt tight and you felt this emptiness within you. you could barely see the light in the dark room, a small candle lit beside you. a lady walked up to you, and you recognized her suddenly, “my lady.” she greeted you, a smile of joy mixed with relief evident on her face as she saw you. you managed a smile, and you drowned out her voice as she called for the others, and you tried to recollect your memory.
“my lady.” a voice called to you from the door and you turned, watching a small bundle move in the hands of the nurse. your heart jumped with joy as you saw your child, “a boy.” she told you, and you couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you picked the child into your arms.
“where is she?!” you heard shouts coming from down the corridor and you immediately recognized them.
“daemon?” you called you, and the nurses jumped back slightly as he burst into the room, his face was covered with dirt, and he smelled of dragon.
“daemon.” you cried, happy to see your husband, and immediately he embraced you, gently as you whimpered slightly.
“i was so afraid..” he paused, and swallowed thickly, “you tore my world apart when we first met, and you tore it completely to shreds last night.” he kissed your forehead and noticed the little baby in your arms, “i didn’t know what to do..” his voice trailed off as he looked at you, and the relief in his face was truly heartening.
“i love you so much, my love.” he kissed your forehead, again, repeatedly to show his love, “more than you’ll ever believe.”
the baby cried before you could respond, and you cooed, happy to hear the noise you so desperately fought for.
#daemon targaryen angst#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen fluff#house of the dragon angst#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fluff#daemon targaryen smut
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House of the Dragon Masterlist
Updated House of the Dragon Masterlist, all the links should be working now. (Ps. it's mostly Aemond)
You can find my MAIN Masterlist here.
Last Updated: 3-28-24
"Exhausting, wasn't it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are."
-ALL WRITING IS AT A PAUSE BUT REQUESTS ARE OPEN!-
-Aemond Targaryen-
Blood of My Blood - - Part 2 - - Part 3 - - {Finished ;) }
Kin of Mine - - Part 2 - -
Salt The Earth Behind You - - And Let The Blood Bind You
Mistaken Hatred
Silent Heartbreaks
The Marriage
The Deal
Willing
Nightmares
The Court - - The Absinthe
Did You Hear The Rain?
You Might Be Sleeping
The Summoning
Love Story
Dancing With Your Ghost
Everyone I Love Is Dead
Tear You Apart
Me & The Devil
The Great War (Midnights Album Event)
All Hallows Eve (2023 Halloween Event)
Rubies Hidden With Blood
-Daemon Targaryen-
Simplicity of the Winds
-Rhaenyra Targaryen-
Faith in the Sword
#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen angst#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen imagine#daemom targaryen#daemon targaryen#daemon x rhaenyra#daemon targeryan#daemon x reader#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen smut#house of the dragon#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon angst#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house targaryen#aemond targaryen fluff#aemnd targareyn smut#aemond targaryen angsr#aemond targaryen possessive
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Forever and always.. or maybe never.
Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader
Hanahaki Disease!AU
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.
Summary: Some say that you cannot die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity.
❗️TW❗️: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints to infidelity, mild mature scene, violence, character death, angst
(A/N: Hello, this is my own take on Hanahaki's disease with Aemond! Feel free to comment your thoughts, I am always open to criticism and feedback! I hope you enjoy!)
Word Count: 3.3K
Your love for Aemond hadn’t always been unrequited. At least you’d like to think it wasn’t. Both of you had grown together in the red keep as children. The two of you read together, ate together, and overall grew together. Aemond was your best friend before he was your betrothed. Whenever his mother was busy, it was your side that he clung to. The two of you were so attached at the hip that Alicent even took you to driftmark with them. You and the beast that came with you of course. No one really knows how you stumbled upon a hyena pup, nor how you tamed it to your side as a child. Nevertheless, they never forbid you from having it. If the Targaryens could have their dragons, and the Starks their dire wolves, then certainly you could have the tricky little beast that you insisted on calling Lark. In some ways, Alicent was thankful that you insisted on keeping it. After all, it was your hyena that stood between Aemond and the other children on that fateful night in driftmark. The beast had acted as your legs and ran faster than you could to reach the devastating brawl before you. Despite Aemond’s wails of pain, Lark refused to let the guards come too close. Only when you arrived did she move aside. Regardless of being young, that was the first night you realized your feelings for Aemond Targaryen. The very sight of him bleeding and broken struck you so deeply that you felt as if you had been maimed too. Alicent had noticed the change as well as she watched you stand by her son's side whilst he received stitches. Her dark eyes gazed deeply at how tightly you held Aemond’s hand, as if he would disappear. Aside from her, no one had ever loved her son this passionately, not even his own father.
“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.
“ Was the blade of your son’s knife not enough sharpness for the night?” All eyes turned to you in surprise. You had never been known to speak out if it did not benefit you. Most of the time you were seen standing to the side, watching while others tore each other apart. Aemond could always see past it, see your true intentions. He knew you were studying how different people fought and where their weak points were. You had been around the red keep long enough to know that Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra’s soft spot, and tonight you planned to use that against her.
“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything.
“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond.
“ You dar-”
“ Enough! My son has lost an eye and now you insist on arguing with a young girl?” Alicent moved up next to you, a hand on your back in support. She knew how terrifying it was to stand alone in a room full of adults scrutinizing you. That’s how her wedding felt after all. The queen’s hand never wavered through the interrogation of the green children. You held Aemond’s hand and she held you. Until things escalated that was. When the queen rushed towards Rhaenyra you stepped in front of Aemond. Shielding him from the sight of his mother in the midst of such violence. All Aemond could see in the midst of chaos was you, and all you could see was the river of blood on Rhaenyra’s arm. Little did you know how familiar you would be with crimson rivers in due time.
It was shortly after that night when your betrothal to the second son was announced. Alicent assured that it was needed to form an alliance between your family and theirs, when in reality it was a match made to ease the worried queen’s heart. In her eyes, no one else was a better match for Aemond than you, and for the longest time, you believed her. Oh, how foolish you were.
Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love.
“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder.
“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.
“ Then I fear I must inspect it. Wouldn’t want my future wife to be keeping secrets from me.” You recognized the playful jest in Aemond’s voice and wasted no time in rushing up from the bench.
“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind.
“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book.
“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck.
“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!”
“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught.
" Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually.
The two of you were married when he was seventeen and you were sixteen. Your union was repeated twice over. Once in front of a sept full of people, and then in the tradition of old valyria. Aemond wanted reassurance that you would never part from him. Your marriage fueled two more years full of what was now mature love.
The edge of your teeth pulled at the pillow of your bottom lip as you stared at the dark oak door. The sound of jeering men swarmed your thoughts and threatened the bile at the back of your throat. You tried to hide your discomfort for Aemonds sake, but he was keen to your reactions by now.
“ Do not fret, my love, I will not let them hear your noises. I would never let them hear what is only meant for me and you.” Aemond spoke lowly, using your hips to turn you towards him and away from the door.
“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”
“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it.
“Aem-” You sighed contently.
“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.
“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck.
“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you, my love. I always will.” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did.
You never would’ve thought that you could fall deeper in love with Aemond Targaryen after that night, but nine months later proved you wrong. The sight of him by your side as you delivered your son set permanent hearts in your eyes. He had not cared for the blood or screams, only you and the babe. The babe who he later named Aemys because it was as close as he could get to amethyst, your favorite color. Every little detail of the things he did revolves around you. That’s what fueled your denial the first time you coughed up blood.
Your eyes stared hard at the bloody petal laying in your palm. Had that come from you? You had read strange tales of those who bled flowers, but you believed it only to be fiction. Surly your blood would not change at the ripe age of ten and nine.
“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you.
“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you.
“ Blooming blood blooms a burial.” This time Helaena was focused on you as she spoke. Her eyes filled with unknown sorrow. You left Aemys to play with his cousins as you rushed to the library. No one else was there to question your sanity as you pulled book after book from the shelf to find the old dornish fables that lay hidden among them.
“Hanahaki..”Every word, every page, and every definition seemed to tear you apart further as you read. No other condition led to flowery bile except for this one. Aemond loved you though. How could this be possible?
Your thoughts would be answered two morrows later when Aemond returned from his siege of Harrenhal. Everyone had expected to see him arrive on dragon back alone, certainly not with a strong bastard. A gorgeous strong bastard at that. You felt your chest tighten as you gazed upon her dark flowy locks and enchanting eyes. Oh by the seven, how could you spite him for loving someone like her? If circumstances were different, then perhaps you too would fall under her spell. It wasn’t until you saw the way she clung to Aemond’s arm that the coughing fit started. This had to be it. What else could it be? Aemond hated physical contact with strangers, yet he let a previously unknown wetnurse cling to him like a paramour. The harder you thought about it, the harder you coughed. The fit only resulted in a petal or two, but in time that would grow. The longer Alys rivers stayed, the worse you got. Both you and the universe could feel Aemond straying from you, even if he spoke differently.
“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner.
“ You do not see the things I see, Aemond. The way you defend her, encourage her, look at her…all in the way you used to look at me-” It took effort to fight down the sickness as you fought. It had been months, but you made no move to tell Aemond, you couldn’t.
“ I do not love her as I love you-”
“ Yes, but you love her!” You cried in outrage, gripping the wall near you for support. Everything became so out of focus as you spoke the words. It was the first time you had ever admitted it to yourself. The dew of brick cooled your skin as you leaned against the wall. Your body trembled with deep echoey coughs as petals tore their way up your throat.
“ I did not mean to make you sick, dear wife” Aemond spoke softly and simply. Wife. He had never called you that before, not even on your wedding night. It was always my love or Ñuha prūmia. How ironic for him to call you his heart when sooner or later he would be the reason yours cease to beat.
“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.”
“ As you wish.” Aemond’s bow before he left was the final straw to crack your heart open. Why must he be so formal when you stand dying a few feet away? How can he not see how badly you suffer? Were the shadows beneath your eyes, or the crack of your lips not big enough clues for him? Would you need to be dead for him to finally understand?
Unfortunately for you, that’s exactly how it was going to be. Everyone else around you had begun to notice the shift in your behavior. The fatigue, the paleness, and the emotions. Alicent first noticed it when she sat in the nursery with you, Helaena, and the children just after supper. She saw the way your eyes refused to leave Aemys as if it would be your last look. The way you held him was the same way she held Aemond when he lost his eye.
“ He’s a clever boy.” Alicent smiled as Aemys recited a word back to one of his cousins.
“ That he is.” You agreed, melancholy ghosting your lips. It hurt the queen to see you this way. You were a part of her almost as much as her children. You came to her as a child she was not forced to love nor conceive. Yet you wormed your way into her heart as if she had carried you. The sight of you so sickly and sad tugged at Alicent’s heart.
“ You’re sick, are you not?” Alicent proclaimed in observation rather than a question.
“ Mhm, In a way I suppose I am.” You hummed out softly. It had gotten to the point where it was hard to speak most days. The petals had begun to come up in thick, dry heaves, with occasional thorns that tore at your throat.
“ Have you told Aemond?” The queen inquired.
“ Aemond is the reason I’m sick in the first place.” You grumbled before sighing in defeat, “ Or I suppose it’s more of my fault. I was foolish to think he would ever actually love me.”
“ You don’t mean-” Alicent’s soft words trailed off abruptly. Alicent Hightower was no stranger to the hanahaki disease. She too had suffered through it once. Except she learned how to get around it.
“ I do.” You answered simply, with no trace of sadness or indifference.
“ There are ways around it my d-”
“ Such as forgoing my love for Aemond, I know. I could live a long life if I cast aside every loving memory I hold of him, but alas it is not that easy. I have tried, if that brings you any comfort. In the midst of the night when my eyes are swollen from tears and the blood in my throat is so thick I cannot breathe, I have tried, and I have failed.” Alicent’s eyes well with tears as you speak, almost as if she’s dared to imagine you in such dismay. You reach out to soothe her hands comfortingly, but she grips onto yours tightly instead.
“ It is not easy, but you must keep trying.” Alicent urges, a wobble to her voice.
“ There is no reason for me to put myself through the agony of erasing my happiness when I am already in physical torment. The sight of Aemond is the very reason I wake up every morning. Hearing his laugh, seeing his smile, and feeling his warmth are all things that have kept me going. Forgetting those would be forgetting myself.” You reason, a wisp of remembrance in your eyes.
“ If not for yourself, then for Aemys” Alicent argues.
“ Aemys is one of the reasons I have chosen to give up. Every time I look at him I see Aemond. They are alike in everything but the eyes. The mere sight of that boy reminds me of the night he was made, of the love and passion Aemond had for me. Yet he no longer holds in regards to me. I would rather Aemys hear stories of his parent’s love than grow up with two plain parents.” The child in topic bursts into giggles a few inches away, stealing your attention from the queen. Your eyes crinkle with happiness and you move to turn towards him, but Alicent holds firm.
“ Aemys needs his mother.” She argues once more.
“ He does not. Aemys will have a loving father and grandmother by his side. Alongside his aunt Helaena, Uncle Daeron, and three beautiful cousins. Even Aegon cares for the little rascals’ life.” You chuckled.
“ That is n-”
“ Please, I have made my choice. I appreciate your council, but it is too late. I fear after I lay my son to sleep, it will be my last night alive. I thank you for all the love and comfort you have given me in my lifetime. I love you, mother.” You pressed the meat of your cheek against Alicent’s hand in farewell before standing.
“ If you’ll excuse me-” As you stood to retrieve your son, Alicent excused herself from the room hastily. Never did she think she would find herself running through the castle’s corridors, but yet here she is. Alicent’s heels had been long forgotten and the emerald hem of her dress dragged upon the stone as she made haste to the library, where Aemond would be.
“ Aemond! Ae-” The frantic shrill of the queen mother’s voice echoes throughout the shelves.
“ Mother?” Aemond calls out, emerging from a row with a disheveled Alys in tow, “ Is something wrong?”
“ You hide away fondling a wet nurse while your wife withers away! Have I truly raised you this way?” The despair in Alicent’s voice takes Aemond by surprise. He reaches out to hold her arms, but she pulls away.
“ She is not withering away, mother. She has assured me that it is just a small cold.” Aemond speaks calmly, in hopes to ease his mother’s franticness.
“ A small cold!? She has every sign of hanahaki disease and you have not suspected a thing?” Alicent refuted.
“ Because it is not possible! I love her!” Aemond snaps.
“ Not enough!” Alicent sighs, “ In no world should I have had to be afraid of letting her go in fear that I would not see her again. She has accepted her death, Aemond. How far out of love have you fallen with her to the point where your wife greets death openly?”
Aemond doesn’t bother with a reply because he’s already on his way out of the door. His pounding steps reverberate through the empty halls and the tremble of panicked breathing surrounds him. Fear nearly eats him alive as he reaches the door to your marital chambers. Never has he been terrified to open those doors to the sight of you. He had never once feared finding you dead, but now he has. Slowly but surely, Aemond pushes the giant oak open. He spots you knelt on the balcony in your nightdress, looking up at the stars. Lark lay whining at your side until she hears Aemond shuffle forward. Much to Aemond's surprise, the hefty beast that once worshiped him as you did, bared its teeth to him.
"Please.." Aemond wasn't sure if he was pleading to Lark to let him pass or to the gods for your life. Either way, the Hyena was the first to answer him. Lark moved aside slowly so that Aemond may pass, but still kept defense from a ways away.
“I-” Before a word can even escape his lips, you’re lurching forward. Aemond rushes forward and sinks to his knees to hold you. The convulsions of your stomach can be felt as he circles your waist.
“ I’m so sorry, my love, please.” The cold wash of fear grips his spine as blood and flowers paint the floor. He has no idea what to do. You’re not saying anything or doing anything to cease the onslaught of terror, yet you’re not pushing him away either. On the contrary, you’ve tangled your fingers with the hand he has over your stomach.
“ I love you. I’ll always love you.” Aemond croaks helplessly into your hair as you lean back against him. It’s too late, you had once said. It seems that the universe had agreed. Your breathing rattled to a stop and the grip of your hands weakened. “ I love you. Forever and Always. I promise.” Aemond whispered, pressing a salt-soaked kiss to your temple as he felt your heart slow. The thump that once echoed through your back onto his own heart stuttered to a stop, and with it so did Aemond’s world.
Part 2
#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon#house of the dragon angst#aemond targaryen angst#angst
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#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon x reader#daemon x rhaenyra#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x female reader#daemon targeryan#daemon targeryen x reader#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#matt smith#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen x y/n#house of the dragon angst#house of dragons#house of the dragon headcannons#house of the dragon#house targaryen#game ofthrones fandom#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones
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Hi! Saw you were looking for hotd requests.
How about arranged marriage au with Daemon x fem!reader. They have 1 or more kids but Daemon doesn't seem to like her. After an attack on her and the kids (she's a trained assassin/warrior), he realizes how much she does for them. Maybe she goes unconscious for a few days and Daemon has to look after the kids.
Ignore this if you don't want to do it! But thanks and have a good day!
Hello! I am so sorry for the late reply!! I did a few changes, I hope you don't mind. I plan to use this prompt for Aemomd and Aegon as well. However I hope you enjoy!!
Fire Like A Targaryen
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Wife!reader
Warning: blood, assault, mentions of rape and murder, angst
Word Count: 1,907
Masterlist - Part Two
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You drums you fingers against your swollen belly, feeling little feet meeting the flesh beneath your hands. "Hello, my little love." You hum to the unborn baby that dances in your stomach while the baby's father disappears somewhere, surely his doting niece following closely behind.
You have been married to Daemon long enough to know the feelings he has for his niece, even if he doesn't realize himself. His neglect of husbandry duties always increased as we spent time in King's Landing, nearing the Princess of Dragonstone. However, you didn't blame your husband's inability to love you, on the Princess or even her lover. Sometimes people just don't love each other.
Giving up long ago for his affection, you decided to make the best of your time with simple pleasures: reading in the garden, learning to cook with the maidens, painting with the richest of colors. Quickly, you adapted to the riches of the Targaryen's royalty which dulled the ache you felt for her husband.
The night of the wedding, the pair never consummated the marriage, it left you feeling like a pawn in a game. He stumbled in drunk, tripping over his feet before dragging himself up the bed, practically crawling towards you. Unable to deny your growing love for this mess of a man, you reached your hand out and guided him towards yourself.
Slowly, he looked up at you before clasping your cheeks in his hands, pressing his cold lips against your warm ones. Hungrily, his hands fly to your sides and pull you against his bare chest. Moaning into your kiss, both sets of hands begin exploring each other. For once, you felt at home, like this was how the two of you were supposed to be, together. However, your bliss died when his lips whispered one that was far from your own.
"Oh, Rhaenyra!" He mumbles into the flesh of your neck, leaving little bruises training down your chest as he moves towards your breast. His words crash around in your head as you lay beneath Daemon who finishes and falls asleep beside you, wordlessly.
Despite the pain of that night, you gained motherhood. Daemon was happy to be a father, scared but happy. He never told you, but you could tell when he'd ghost his hand over your bump or give you an extra piece of bread with dinner. He even held your hand during the birth of your daughter, Alysannne. He may not love you, but he loves his child. Although, a small part of you wished this child would make him love you. You were naive to think Daemon would ever love you.
But, years have passed since your daughter was born. Alys is five, running around her father as he brushes Caraxes in the Dragonpit.
"Mommy!" Her tiny voice echoes on the stone walls once she sees you walking towards herself and her father. Looking up, Daemon's eyes meet yours, offering a small smile before turning back to the huffing Caraxes.
"Hello, my little one. What are you doing out here? Look at you, you are all dirty!" You pick at your daughter's ripped gown, covered in soot.
"We were playing with Caraxes! Daddy said he'd let me fly with him!!" The little girl runs between her parents and the Blood Wyrm, kissing the dragon's cheek as she pets him.
"Well, she is her father's daughter." Daemon chuckles, putting his hand on the small of your back as Alys dances around in front of you, twirling her ruined skirt. Affection from him was no longer rare but quick. His thumb caresses the exposed skin of your back, soothing the pain of carrying a child. His unused hand finds itself cupping your belly.
"How has he been treating you, today?" Daemon's smooth voice steals your attention from the girl before you. Looking down at his hands, you rest yours beside his but he moves, so his fingers are right over yours.
"He's been good. Hasn't been kicking me a ridiculous amount which is a new change of pace." Your attempt at a joke brings a smile to your husband's face who kneels down before you and kisses your clothed belly, much to your surprise.
"Be good for your mother. Cherish her, my little Dragon." He whispers, but you were still able to here his words. Standing back up, he cups your face.
"I'm going to take Alys flying before she makes Caraxes eat me. He listens to her more and more these days." With a peck on your cheek, he's running towards his daughter and his dragon.
"Don't forget Alysanne needs to bathe before dinner with your brother. She may be a dragon but she will not smell like one." You call them, laughing at your own words.
"Yes ma'am." Daemon smiles at you before telling Caraxes to fly,just streaks of red melding into the blue sky above.
Waiting for your family, you sit in your chambers, rubbing oils on your stretched belly while the water for Alysanne is being gathered by your maids.
Grabbing a book from Daemon's bedside table, you absently flip through the pages; glimpses of words and stories fly by along with the pages.
A creak of the door alerts you, bring you to your feet as you cover your stomach with the slits of your gown.
"Mommy! We flew so high!" Alysanne pushed the door open enough to slide between the wood, running to her mother's side, a severant boy coming in behind her with two buckets of hot water. Alysanne leans into your side as you take in the dirt covering her face.
"Oh, my little girl, what did they do to you? Did they roast you?" You giggle, tickling at her sides. The servant moved slowly beside you as he filled the white tub.
"No, I roasted them, mwah ha ha." She laughs, stomping and pretending to breathe fire as she runs around you in circles.
"Okay my dragon rider. It's time to bathe. Come on." She taps her daughter's shoulders, moving her towards the steaming bath. Looking towards the lingering servant, Y/N felt bad dismissing him but was cautious why he was staying so long.
"Thank you, sir. Your kindness won't be forgotten." You turn towards your child and still feeling the man in your room, pull the curtain around the tub closed, canceling your still clothed daughter. She was eerie of this man in their room, unsure what to think of him.
Slowly, he straightens to look you in the eye, a cold shiver runs through your body as you see the glint of a dagger in his hand.
"No! Guards! Daemon!" You shout as the man lunges, knife pointed towards your belly. The man kept coming at you, backing you in the furthest corner away from your daughter, who peeked from the curtain. Moving to run around him, his arm grabbed you by the stomach and shoved you down. Flying backward, your head hits the ground, a loud crack echoing through your mind as you look around for a weapon. The man is stalking you while you try to move toward the bed across you. You knew Daemon kept a dagger under the left-hand side of the mattress. If you could just get to it, you could save your children's lives.
The sound of glass breaking stops you and your attacker, both looking toward the direction of the crash. The tub.
A fear like no other took over you as the man started towards your daughter's hiding spot. Reaching for his legs, you try to pull him down, screaming but to no avail as he kicks you. One landing in your swollen belly, making black dots cloud your vision. Wetness trickles down the side of your face, but you keep dragging yourself behind this man, desperate to stop him from hurting your child.
Using the table nearest, you pull yourself up and grab Daemon's letter opener. This man would not leave this room alive; you'd make sure of it even if you died trying. The man throws open the curtain but pauses. Creeping behind him, you see Alysanne isn't behind the curtain anymore.
"Where is she?" The man asked himself. He turns, locking eyes with you before grabbing you by your hair and pulling you to your knees. "I said," Where is she? You dumb bitch!" He goes to smack you but stops as you shove the letter opener into his hand. Letting you go, you drop back down before dragging yourself to your feet.
"You fucking cunt! I was going to let it be quick, but now you will watch me rape your little girl and slit her throat before I do the same to you." He spits, pulling the blade from his hand and coming at you. His words once would've made you cower and hide, but now light you up like a flame. A fire burned in you to keep going and fighting despite the pain radiating over your body.
"You won't lay a finger on her. Over my dead body." You knew this would be a fight you'd lose. You have no weapons, training, or husband to protect you. It was up to you to protect these children, and you would do it even if it killed you. The Man grabs at you again, but you slap, scratch, and claw at his face this time. His hands find their way around your throat while yours dig into his eyes, a gut-wrenching scream comes from the man as he yanks away from you, but you don't stop. Lunging at him, you push his body against the tub, hitting his head before you wail on his chest, tears flowing down your face as the man beneath you go limp.
A scream of frustration leaves your throat raw as the adrenaline leaves your body.
"Alysanne? It's okay to come out now, darling. It's okay." Your thoughts cleared. Where is your daughter? Stumbling off the man, you pull yourself up and turn, trying to find your daughter, when suddenly she slides from under the bed, rushing to your side.
"M-mommy! I thought, I thought he was-"
"Shh, it's okay now. Everything is going to be okay." You hold her to your chest, trying to soothe your nerves. The door swings open to your relief, and Daemon rushes in, sword drawn with the Gold Cloaks rushing in behind him.
"What happened? Are you okay? Alysanne? The baby?" Daemon's questions shoot at you, each before the words can find you. Staring up at him, blood smeared across your face, bruises forming, and tears filling your eyes. Daemon has never seen you like this and never plans to again.
"Mommy killed the bad guy. He tried to hurt us, but she saved us!" Your daughter summarizes to her father, who turns to his wife, shocked, before pulling her and her daughter into his arms, kissing each other on their foreheads. He always thought she lacked the fire a Targaryen has. But at every turn, she has proved him wrong. Not only did she give him a dragon and another coming, but she became one in the process.
#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen angst#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon targaryen fanfiction#daemon targaryen fic#house of the dragon angst#house of the dragon imagines#house of the dragon x reader#hotd x reader#hotd x you
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Sweet Sixteen II; Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!OC
To be a father is to live and sacrifice. What would Daemon live to sacrifice? To leave behind and never return to--to never regret with second thoughts. The answer: his last daughter.
Warnings: cannon divergence; paternal anger; father angry towards daughter; hints of paternal violence; hints of violence; choking; heavy angst; manipulation; hints of sex; highly emotional.
Notes: Apologies for the long wait, life hit me like a truck. If you liked this or wished it to be edited up or down, please tell me! This is a heavy read (it was a heavy write for me) but I hope you all enjoy this!
Long chapter ahead!
The summons arrived on a cool morning on Dragonstone. The raven knew all were fast asleep sole for one. Cold air rushed through Daemon's nose and up to his mind as he stood next to an open window. A knight had just left his quiet chambers, leaving him in a robe with a sealed letter in hand. Daemon was written on the cover in fine letters. Each letter was straight, curved in the right places, and perfectly in line with the one before and after.
It hadn't been long since he received word from his brother, or in this such a case, his court. It had actually not been long since he last visited King's Landing. He could count by hand the weeks that passed since he last roamed his former home. The king's second daughter, Helaena, was betrothed to her older brother Aegon and as a good tiding for the girls in the family, the king invited his nieces for some bonding with the dreamer girl. Daemon was surprised Viserys held the dear such an occasion, but his eyes felt the ink's deeper meaning just from the greeting.
Dearest brother...
A preparation. A warning. Daemon wiped his nose before he moved to the next line. The hallways of Dragonstone were quiet and the children were slumbering away in their chambers. His wife lay in their bed, under the sheets and furs to keep the breeze from fanning her skin. Daemon needed the fresh morning light to read the letter clearer, to see all the meanings within the lines. His hand gripped the parchment the further his eyes descended, burned brighter as he pulled apart double meanings and hidden phrases. He glazed past the introductions and greetings and dove to the heart of the letter--the biggest paragraph of them all. His breathing grew ragged when the mention of her spilled across the letter.
....The Princess Helaena requests the presence of Lady Saela Targaryen as a lady-in-waiting for her highness court. The Princess recounts fond memories she shared with the Lady and wishes her sweet presence in her everyday to be permanent. All servants, dressings, and accommodations lay prepared for the Lady's arrival....
It was a surprise. A bold move, Daemon complimented with raised brows. But it involved his daughter, his youngest daughter. Saela was still a child hiding behind her sister's shadows, lapping against her cousins' steps, and a growing woman. From what the Maesters whispered and he forced from a handmaid, she just flowered. Daemon crinkled his nose at the thought.
Why demand his youngest child among his three?
The letter, no, the summons demanded Saela's presence in the next seven days. It emphasized the great joy and happiness the princess Helaena would feel to have her favorite niece by her side. No other daughter was to attend on her behalf.
Bullshit.
A croaky laugh cracked through the room. Daemon's chest rose with sputtered laughs and his fingers pinched his alert eyes. A wry smile stretched the corners of his lips upwards. It was too late for him to switch out Saela for one of her sisters. The days where the girls could switch places and act as the other passed long ago; the twins even grew into unique features that stood them apart from each other.
Not Helaena. Daemon shook his head. That girl could not craft such a demand. The queen.
When Daemon visited last, his daughters joined him. The three-and-a-half day travel on boat was the same duration of their stay. While the girls bonded over tea, gowns, and childish talks, Daemon joined his brother every second he could. In his free time, which was limited, he would peek into side rooms, the gardens, or separate chambers to check on his daughters. Three times out for five, Daemon spotted Saela attached to Helaena's side while Alicent loomed over them. A whisper past Baela revealed the Queen had requested all of Saela's time that day and the previous.
"She calls for her after breaking our fast." Rhaena confided to her father on their third morning. She had just caught him before he departed for a meeting. Her speech was breathy--she ran--and her eyes bled into his soul. "And she just watches her."
Daemon hadn't much time to think about Rhaena's words before he marched into the council chambers. Men dressed in their house colours either stood around the table or sat waiting for their cups to be filled. Deep laughter rolled from one fat lord as he motioned to the King with his head.
"The boy is of age, isn't he? Aegon, isn't it. It is about time he takes a wife."
"And who would that be?" Another lord across the fat one asked. Daemon marched closer to hear their voices clearly, but halted when he heard names drop against the table.
"To keep the blood pure, won't his sister be the best choice? Or how about his cousins?"
It was then when Viserys realized his brother's presence and what the lord to his far right was talking about. The King didn't need another second to decipher the emotions across his face--anger, confusion, dying tolerance. Marrying off one his daughters could help their sad hearts after tragedy, but by the look of their father, Viserys knew not now, or, now ever. With a wave of his hand, he shushed all talk. He didn't a man leaving his a broken nose, animosity for a Targaryen, or dead.
When Daemon found his daughter later that day, the queen stood behind her with arms wide and eyes twinkling.
In his room with the letter, Daemon had time to think whilst Rhaenyra kissed him on the shoulder. Did dawn pass by so fast? The prince casted a glance to his wife skimming her eyes across the letter. The furrow of her brow marked she got the same place to.
"Are you going to do it?" Her brows raised in question. Are you going to send your youngest child to a den of vipers?
Daemon let his mind wander into dark clouds at the thought of leaving his daughter here. Laena left him with three children--girls, the realm's mightiest tools in times of diplomacy and wagers. Were he to leave one under his brother's nose, Sweet Old Saela, no one would blink an eye. She was the sweet, quiet child. He already has twins, leaving him still with the weight of raising girls. Saela was the perfect child, always abiding to rules and governance. Slip her a note on what to do, the girl will be a man's best soldier. Whisper her a scolding and she will bend her every value not to mess up again. Hells, when he begged his daughters to stop crying at a dinner one evening, Saela never talked for the rest of the night.
A soldier?
The fact Rhaenyra has a younger living brother threatened her established claim as heir. No one had to say it out loud: a son was all the king wanted, and even if his daughter stood in line behind him. A son would rally much more support than a woman with the Conqueror's crown.
Daemon cocked a brow. Saela could be his soldier, his extra eye in the Keep. While he converged his forces on Dragonstone, Saela would stay there, cozying up with his brother's wife. She was never the girl who liked rolling in mud or dallied in listening to Council meetings. No, she deserved the best linens and gowns and court. The girl could act as his extra pair of personal eyes and ears. She could get under her skin, worm her way into her mind. The prince knew no one stood a chance against his daughter's smile. She inherited from her mother. With Saela submerged into the Green mess that spilled across his home, Daemon needn't worry about a thing.
Saela would be his perfect soldier.
"I will." Daemon nodded. Rhaenyra peeked at the glint in his eyes.
That night following dinner, Saela cried at the news, but nevertheless prepared for the trip. Her sisters begged for her to stay, but as Daemon predicted, Saela took on her mission without complaint with an I will be fine. In their last pure moments together, Daemon prepared his mighty soldier for the battle she would face ahead. He knew she was prepared. Her emotions were in check beyond her years and she hadn't lived in Dragonstone for too long to grow too attached to the palace or its grounds. Unlike Baela or Jacaerys who obsessed over flying, Saela was a novice in comparison to them--her dragon had barely hatched and refused to show signs of flight.
The skin of a father was shed for Daemon to bare the armour of a soldier. For hours past the hour of the owl, he drilled passages and commands to Saela--from dining, to walking, to presenting her head. She was going to leave her home a measly girl and enter the capital, her arena, her battlefield, as an armed soldier and mighty weapon.
And a soldier Daemon saw his Saela become. When she greeted them for their tea, she stood tall, unwavering under his eyes, and proud. She nearly resembled the frigid woman Rhaenys became. Whenever he caught sight of her, Saela was the paradigm of his success--of her upbringing under him, trained knowledge of note-passing, and dining with the enemies. Daemon knew out of all his daughters, Saela won't crumble easy.
She overcame her mother's death faster than her sisters and won't let a thing brother her. To Daemon, she was mentally stronger in keeping her emotions and personal life out of politics or power moves.
His girl even overcame the disaster that was that dinner announcing new betrothals. Whereas Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Baela sprung for Aegon and Aemond, Saela was quiet. Like he, she calculated the scene next to Helaena. But where she had gone with her aunt, Daemon had not the slightest clue. The cool ocean air fanned his skin while he walked through the exposed halls of the Keep. The wine, unbridled emotions, and lack of sleep for some riled everyone out of the dining hall to separate corners of the castle. To keep his mind at peace, Daemon walked the paths above the garden to feel the clouded moonlight fan him.
Rhaenyra, before he departed their chambers, planned to cut their trip short and haul the family back to Dragonstone the following morning. The short notice gave him little time to make sure Saela was all right. Rhaenyra knew better. To make sure her allegiance is all right, to her, or her father.
"Where is my daughter?" Daemon asked a passing knight. His voice rose barely above a murmur. The dark-haired man shrugged his shoulders and tumbled out an I'm not aware.
After their meals, it was their own tradition to find each other hiding in secret passages. It was a game Daemon introduced to Saela a random night. (He and Laena had argued over something trivial and he was bored for once). One night each, either he or Saela would rush out following their meal and hide in any place that would fit them. Spots ranged from false walls, behind hanging banners, inside knights armours, to underneath the biggest skirt one could find. Every time an argument broke out or someone got in trouble and just breathing was a challenge in the hall, Daemon and Saela would whisk themselves out to play their game.
The idea Saela was playing again struck something cold and dull in Daemon's heart. She had escaped under his nose and was hiding all-too well.
To a passing handmaid, he asked the same thing. Two girls carrying basins of water quickly shook their heads. "If not in her chambers, she must be in the gardens, my prince."
Daemon hadn't bothered to give the servants another word before he marched to the nearest staircase. He had just descended the stairs when he saw her. Saela's head and her tightly-wound bun of silver curls rested on the shoulder of a woman. No, a handmaid. Two walked on either side of her, locked in arms with their backs to him. His practiced steps were silent against the stone path. Even though his daughter and her servants were several paces ahead, none would hear him.
So, she's not playing the game, but going for a walk.
In his silence, Daemon planned what to say. Hello, dear daughter. My good soldier. Have you kept those notes from years ago? Where I told you to watch and listen?
A wry smile cracked his face as he practiced. "I hope all is, my good daughter--"
"Stop."
Daemon froze.
"What is wrong with you?"
Saela had turned a corner before speaking to someone. The prince rose a brow as he prowled to the corner. He was about to step out and draw a weapon at the sound of a threat, but he quickly retreated.
"You just had to open your mouth? The boy is ten-and-five, a child!" Saela's voice seethed. Daemon narrowed his brows when the voice spoke clearer. Louder. It burned his blood when he matched the tone and depth of the man Saela talked to.
"He is a fool and a bastard." Aemond scoffed. Daemon didn't have to see his face to calculate the prince's anger.
"A boy, Aemond! He is a child, a fool, nothing he speaks is serious. Why did you let that...Lucerys get to you like that?"
Saela raised her voice before covering her mouth. Aemond's frame hid the girl from Daemon's sight, but he could see the One-Eyed cradle his daughter's face. In plain sight for anyone to see were Saela and Aemond talking like lovers. It took every muscle in Daemon not to laugh, or to scream. The glances Saela failed to hide at dinner made sense. Her hidden smile behind her cup. The twitch in her lips.
Why? Daemon asked himself, both to why Saela's and his own actions. Why did she react to Aemond like that and why didn't he confront them? Why was she allowing him to hold her, to whisper to her, to invade her space and not--
"The dinner..."
Daemon hadn't meant to whisper out into the night, but light clouds of his breath floated in the air above his lips. His mind pulled him back an hour ago, before the mess of drinks spilled and food wasted his brother left behind. Saela and Aemond watched each other lasciviously across the long table. Over their cups, as they cut their food or talked with the person on their right, they somehow managed to eye the other down. To calm his mind from jumping from his skull, he fooled himself into not believing what he saw. But he was a boy once--a man now--and could pick at the signs of lust. As he drank wine to calm the storm in his mind, Daemon could see Aemond undress his daughter with his one eye; he licked at her exposed chest and laughed at her open neck. In the moments he felt like hurling his meal or flipping a table, Daemon drank himself silly.
The drunk he wished for pooled to nothing now.
"What can I do to make it up to you, hmm?" Aemond hummed against Saela's skin. Although Daemon looked at the pair, his mind buffered in registering their actions. The fact Saela smiled as Aemond frisked his hands around her was like a dart to his glass mind.
No. Daemon looked away. Saela wouldn't allow herself a second to fall for a man like that. A crippled second-son would do nothing for Saela. She deserved someone stronger, fiercer, and--
"You don't get to kiss me."
Daemon straightened at his daughter's words. Kiss? Who is his daughter kissing? When he peered around the corner, his body tensed. Aemond had Saela pinned to the Keep's cold walls with one hand on her cheek and the other caressing her thigh. The handmaidens backs faced him, allowing him total freedom to see Aemond fondle Saela's skin between her legs. Although she disallowed Aemond entrance into her with her words, her hands toyed his hair and her lips ghosted his red cheeks.
"Do you know how much stress I've dealt with by myself?"
Saela's voice went soft, but it ached with raw pain. She spoke only for Aemond to hear. The prince muted the racing of his heart to hear his daughter's confession, but all he could see were her lips flapping and hear the tough drags of her nose. Whatever Saela revealed to Aemond warranted her a kiss. The sound of lips smacking made Daemon cringe. He slammed his back to the wall. Between the wet kisses, pants, and shuffles of fabric, Daemon picked up a few words and phrases.
"....Ilaena was horribly, sick, Aemond." Another kiss. Daemon noted the hard knot between her brow.
"..red in the face.." Kiss on the neck.
"...you didn't bother asking if she..." a loud moan soared from her lips. "Helaena and Alicent were the only ones to..."
The unbuckling of a belt and light laugh set Daemon off. "I'll make it up to you, my love." The One-Eyed Prince laughed in the night. In the dark, he saw red. The raging thump of his heart broke his eardrums, muting him to the moans around the corner. It took everything in him not to spear Aemond with Dark Sister. The sensual cry from Saela chased the prince away.
His boots stomped holes into the ground as he marched down the hall. If a knight or simple handmaid crossed the wrong path at the wrong time with him, their shoulders bore wounds of their collision. Daemon couldn't care less about a whining annoyance. All he could focus on were the shadows he saw dance outside; their hushed voices, kisses, and pants fogged his mind harsher than any storm. This itself was a storm, the hardest he faced both on land and on dragonback.
No guard stopped Daemon from pushing his way into Saela's bedchamber.
He waited. Without making a sound, or even a breath, the bedchambers were lifeless. It was like Daemon never stood in the middle of it all. Proof of his existence was the fire. The fact he could feel it proved his life at that moment was true--that what he witnessed was true. The crackling of wood reminded the prince his hearing was perfect. It told his mind he could not misjudge a thing, even if wished it was wrong.
Daemon's eyes glossed to life when the door opened. The hushed giggling erupted into frigid gasps. Saela must have jumped when she noticed him.
"Wait here," she said to two other voices.
"Leave." Daemon commanded. The hand holding the wrist behind his back clenched his skin worse than any chains or armor. The figures at the door made no move to leave. Either they were confused or they wished to meet his blade.
"I said leave."
"No, they can stay." Saela whispered something to the women. Palina, Arah. The names echoed in Daemon's mind. It dawned on him when he finally recognized who they were. In a letter addressed to him right after Saela settled into the Keep, she told him of the handmaidens assigned to her.
Palina and Arah are at my beck and call...it is fun having maids at your command. Now I know how you feel with your soldiers.
The same handmaidens she wrote about years ago were still at her side? Daemon lodged the thought deep into his skull. His shoulders squared straight when he stood tall. He hadn't turned around, but could see and feel the contemplation dancing on the women's faces.
"Defy me again and I'll slit your throats. Leave."
Not even the fire could cool Daemon's skin when the moans and kisses echoed in his mind. His lip curled at the smacks he heard, at the licks and spits he could feel across his skin. The slam of the chamber doors reaped the man from his nightmares.
"You didn't have to chase them away like that. They are loyal servants." Saela sighed before moving towards her father. He heard her smooth down her gown, probably rumpled from the mess she was in. "I wasn't expecting you so late, father. Is there something you want to talk about?"
Daemon needed time to breath. His back heaved with a heavy weight and his mouth dried before he could speak.
"Where were you?"
"For a walk. Did you want to come along--"
"With whom?" Daemon heard Saela move. Side steps, a nervous dance. She rubbed her hands against her gown with a long breath.
"With Palina and Arah--"
"You call your servants by name? What are they, your friends?" The shadow haunting Daemon's frame reigned over Saela's against the stone wall. The flames from the fire could be his own, heaved from his tongue.
"They are lovely girls, father. We are not far in age--"
"Do you think me a fool, Saela?" Daemon moved to feel the fire against his back. His head teetered down while his gaze bore to the left at his youngest daughter. "Why would a lady like you go for a walk at this hour?"
Saela's chest rose high. The chain around her neck tightened. It was a rope of Daemon's lashes tightening around her neck. Slowly and steadily did it rise to choke her.
"T-that is what--"
"I know you are smarter than this, Saela. Why would you do this to yourself?"
The tone in the prince's voice fell to a sympathetic level. He sounded sad, mournful, even. His shoulders fell when his body finally turned to face his child. He wanted her to see him downed, to see his pain. He wanted her to know he knew and she could do nothing but admit it. He wanted to hear it from her.
"Why would allow someone like that to do that to you?"
Saela felt her eyes sting. Her father had that power over her, hurting her eyes before anything else. It was only him that could make her cry before she felt the heavy pain in her chest. It was only Prince Daemon that scared her so much she couldn't breathe.
What he said tore through her. How could she let him do that to her? The Heart of the House, her uncle, the king, would call her. The sweet Heart that everyone adored, everyone thought pure, allowed something so vile inside her. She allowed herself to be tainted by a dark hole everyone tried to cover, to shield--no, to ignore. The last of Prince Daemon's daughters, the girls that would honor their father with honorable acts, was the most dishonorable of all.
All those thoughts swamped Saela's mind until she was breathless, crying mess. Her father was a blur of black leather and silver details, a monster she couldn't understand nor defeat. Saela could only bare herself honestly in front of the soldier that stared her down.
"How old?"
"W-what?" Saela was breathless, her voice airy and shaky. Faith in her voice crashed to the ground when Daemon towered his head over her own. She had to brace her muscles to not let her body drop.
"How old were you when he--"
Daemon bared his teeth. He couldn't finish the question nor formulate the words on his tongue. Claimed you. Fucked you. Took advantage of you. Tormented you. The words spat around in his mind, assaulting him from all angles and it could have made the man sick. But he stomached it down and shook his head. As a father, the thought of asking his daughter when she was deflowered sickened him. Why should he, a man of his stature, ask a lady--his daughter, at that--such a question?
"How old were you, Saela?"
The way Daemon spoke her name scared the girl into confession. It was fatherly, courageous, or kind. It reeked of grimace, of...of disgust.
He thinks me disgusting.
The girl silently balled as she answered. "Three-and--" The deep chuckle Daemon let out from the depths of his throat silenced Saela's whispered words. Of every conversation she imagined, this way, this manner, never came to mind. Saela never wished to spill her life's truths and secrets to her family like this, shrunken in a cowardice, crying mess.
"P-please father, don't--"
"Don't what? Don't kill him?"
"Please, no!" Saela screamed. Her watery eyes noted her father's light touches to Dark Sister. She knew her shaking bones and crumpled gown were Aemond's only defense between life and sudden death. "Please, don't hurt him."
"Why? Do you love him?" Daemon to hear it. Hear the name. Hear her guilt.
The mind of the Targaryen girl spiraled. After everything--her new life in court, building a new life with her cousins, growing close to allied and enemy houses, building her own life--it came crashing down in one night. No lie, no distraction, no escape was offered to her.
"He is using you, Saela, for his own selfish needs. He does not love you, no one here does. No one will ever truly appreciate you here."
Saela's fingers dug themselves into her sleeves. Spools of lace trickled to the floor as she cried. No one will ever truly appreciate you here. But they do, Saela yelled at herself. When her one and only family left her in King's Landing she visited a handful of times, Helaena, Alicent, Aemond, and even Aegon took her in as family. Come nights she dreamed of her mother's vanishing hand, Alicent was there to rub her back and sing her songs. Come days she missed dragon riding with her sisters or walking the mountains with the Velaryon boys, Aemond and Aegon joined her without tell.
Daemon watched time pass through his daughter's eyes and he shook his head. "Do you truly believe they love you?"
"W-why would you...?" Saela couldn't lift her head.
Were all the times she spent dancing, embroidering, reading, sleeping, and playing with Helaena and Alicent a lie? No. They love me. Helaena and Alicent replaced the times she lost with her sisters and mother.
And Aemond. O, the prince was her shield from days she remembered horror times. He was the saving hand that pulled her from nightmares--when she lost her mother and the brother she never got to know. He shielded her from nightmares and dances of attitudes. Aemond was still the boy she found in the library in Driftmark that would listen to her ramble--still the boy that protected her mind from thoughts of darkness and doom.
Aemond was the bed her tightened heart and head could explode on.
"I...I..."
"What, Saela?" Daemon narrowed his eyes. Past the tears, tear stains, and messy hair, he could see growing fires in his daughter's eyes. They were flames of resolve and passion. They were flames he had to snuff out. "Don't you say--"
"I love him, father. I love Aemond and you cannot do a thing about it."
She said it. Silence fell between the pair. A mixture of sneer and grin crossed Daemon's face. It resembled a dragon's smile before it devoured its prey. The look on her father's face revealed the rage he didn't shame himself in hiding. Saela caught the lighting of a wildfire when she caught her breath. It was too late.
"I...no..."
Saela felt her heart beat slower and slower. I said it and Daemon waited for me. Her body didn't realize it shook in the presence of dragon's flames. She shook her head before she could say another word.
"You love fucking Aemond Targaryen?" Saela jumped at the tone of her father's voice. "Why? Because he's your cousin? Because he fucks you in the garden for everyone to see?"
He saw. The girl's stomach dropped. Everything she's done in the past years to perfect her secret were ruined once her family came back into her life. The shell Alicent crafted around her, for her, as a second mother, cracked with every yell Daemon released. Then something festered within her. A toil of anger and resentment. How dare he lie to me? Her life was perfect. Walks with her cousins were always lovely. Long walks with her uncle where they talked about everything he could remember filled her life's missing gaps. Only now that her sisters, father, and step-brothers enter her home, her life, everything she's created is slowly come to ruin.
"Tolī mirre eman gaomagon..."
Saela closed her eyes with a long sigh. Her hands covered her face as she shook her head. Daemon stepped closer to hear her words, but she side-stepped him to pace her room.
After all I have done.
"What?" Daemon cocked a brow. His shoulders twitched.
"So now you care about me? Now, after all these years, you think to care about what I'm doing or who I'm with."
As Daemon peered over his daughter, he lost sight of her. Yes, she stood in front of him, but she wasn't crying or apologizing like she always would have. This wasn't the Saela who would wipe her face and vow to never disobey her father again. No, the woman in front of him bore tears of anger. The previous knot between her brows fell and she stood tall to match his height.
"In this house, these people were the only ones to stand by my side. I know they care about me--"
"I am your father, Saela. I know they don't care about you--"
"Shut up!" The girl screamed in defiance. It was a child's way of building their truth, but as an adult, Daemon could crush it. He saw the plans in her mind race when she shook a hand.
"I said not a word when you married Rhaenyra. I said not a word when you took in Jace and Luke and Joffrey as your own. I was the nice daughter and accepted them as my brothers."
"This has nothing to do with--"
"I said nothing when Rhaena cried to me saying you ignore her! I said nothing when--"
"You are not listening, Saela!" Daemon marched forward. His chest bumped the woman back, but she didn't stumble.
"I didn't say anything after mother died and you married her--"
"He is your cousin!"
"And she is your niece!" Saela screamed. Sweat crawled across their skin in the room. Be it fatigue, wine from earlier hitting them, or unresolved tensions from the years, neither Daemon nor Saela took a step back.
"Have we not fulfilled our family's fucked-up customs?" Daemon lowered his chin at the exasperated sigh. He leaned his head forward so his eyes could level Saela's wide stare back at him. Her body didn't shake anymore and if he didn't seethe in a cloud of anger, would have admired his daughter for the strength she carried. "You settle your cock deep into your niece's cunt while I warm up by cousin's bed. We are pure-blooded Targaryens, father--"
"Shut your mouth."
Daemon hadn't raised his voice, but the bass of his tone silenced Saela. Her mouth wavered shut, but her eyes burned with thousands of unsaid words. A scratching quiet surrounded the pair, forcing them for words. The crackling of the heat had died in comparison to their ferocity.
Saela cracked an odd smile before she bowed her head. When she looked up, it didn't reach her eyes for miles.
"Was she not eight-and-ten when you claimed her in a brothel?"
Red burned in Daemon's eyes. All he saw was blood rushing through his vision.
"Aemond had the dignity of a man to fuck me lovingly in his chambers."
Daemon's blood boiled higher than any power. No wine or ocean could muddle or cleanse his brain. HIs mind didn't react to his body moving across the cold floor. The prince's eyes were nothing but drops of black as they stared down at Saela choking. His grip around her throat was loose enough for her to breath freely but tight enough his fingers brushed each other around her neck. His other hand was raised but frozen in the air.
When Daemon blinked next, Saela was crying and his hands dropped without question. In front of her was a dragon, not a man. Heat of dragon's flame burned around her neck so much, she cringed at the burn, then laughed.
What stood before Daemon wasn't his daughter. It was a creature from another world. Possessed, a Maester would say. Magic, a skeptic would claim. This is not Saela. Daemon's brow fell, his heart dropped, and corners of his mouth ached. His daughter that would laugh at his failed jokes and dance with her sisters whenever she could was gone. The person before him had her face, but not her soul.
"You are no more clean than I am, father."
In slow waves, the girl walked away. Backward steps forced him to watch her face morph from laughing to a blank slate. Step. Step. Step. Her hands braced each furniture she bumped into, but she never turned away. Slowly, slowly, creepily, Saela's face turned again and Daemon could see her return. The dying flames calmed her mind to understand the madness she unleashed in her chambers. The wandering of her eyes and quick rise of her chest simmered whatever heat and anger she reached for. Before she could fall onto the couch, Saela whipped around to wipe her face.
It was now Daemon remembered he was a father. Her father.
"Who is Ilaena?"
Saela stopped short of the door. Daemon let his arms hang by his sides after relaxing his shoulders. He hadn't realized the knot he forced his body in until he felt like melting into a pool of body mass. Daemon asked again when silence was delivered with his daughter's back.
"A-a friend." Saela drew back snot.
The lie was a thick as a morning yawn. Daemon heard the gasp she let out when he spoke the name and could hear the hesitance Saela spoke with.
"Iksan aōha kepa." I am your father.
A reminder to them. Second by second, Daemon's voice warmed to the tone he always spoke to her with. It was like the dragon from before never existed, never threatened her. He spoke like he was never disgusted by her.
“I am a father and husband, Saela. Who is--"
"Some call her a whore." The little voice trembled. It was muffled between Saela's frame and the thick doors, but it bounced to Daemon's ears.
"The Lannister's say the vow to Rhaenyra wasn't made by them...House Wylde would suck a man's cock if anything..."
Saela sniffled, but the end of her words hinted at a laugh. Her voice no longer had the edge from earlier--the venomous bite Daemon worried he would catch. It resembled the call of a small child who raced for her father. The girl reached up as she spoke, but could never reach the hand that pulled back from her.
"But it's Otto who, who masters everything."
The heavy chamber doors slammed behind Saela after her confession, leaving Daemon in her cold chambers. In the dim silence, his body melted to the floor. The girl he hugged tightly years ago that one fateful night was unrecognizable just now. The sweet child he sent instructions and guides became something he never imagined. Saela became a soldier--a woman obedient to order, instruction, and command. She now joined the war that consumed their family but Daemon wasn't sure which side she fought for.
His Sweet Saela was a girl no more, but a woman cracked, and soldier worn.
Taglist: @malfoycassimalfoy
#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen x targaryen!oc#aemond targaryen x saela targaryen#house of the dragon x oc#hotd x oc#hotd angst#house of the dragon angst#sweet saela#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd fanfic#aemond targaryen x reader
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(Y/N) joining Aemond and Helaena on the park bench : what are we staring at?
Aemond : Him.
*looks at aegon in the distance*
Helaena : He's been trying for five minutes.
Aemond : He doesn't know how to tie shoe laces...
Helaena:
Aemond:
(Y/N):
Aegon:
Helaena: ...He's crying...
#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#house of the dragon imagines#aemond oneshot#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen fic#hotd imagine#hotd imagines#house of the dragon imagine#ewan mitchell#foryoupage#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfic#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon angst#aemond fic#aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader#fic recs#incorrect quotes#incorrect house of the dragon quotes#blurbs with tae#aemond targaryen blurb#aegon targaryen#aegon x you#king aegon
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SHORT HAIR SUITS YOU – D.T. x FEM!READER
fluff, smut. english isn't my first language 🫶🏻
"Gods be good." You closed the book that was resting on your legs once you saw Daemon entering your chambers. Covered in blood that you prayed to the Seven it wasn't his. You got out of your warm bed, stood on your feet, and approached Daemon. He stepped back when you tried to cup his cheek, that gesture made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Is that blood yours?" You asked while you analyzed his face, looking for any wound or any sign that let you know that he was hurt. His silver hair was soaked in blood, his garment too, but Daemon shook his head, and you let out a sigh of relief. He finally ended the Crabfeader, you were gonna be able to have your husband back. You checked his clothes asking yourself why the hell he didn't wear armor to combat, and why the hell didn't wait for Viserys' men. Your back tensed when you found half of an arrow stuck in his chest, really close to his armpit. Did he fly all the way here with that in there?
"Ser Criston." You walked past your husband, out of your room, and quickly got the knight at your door's attention. "Could you call the maids, please? I need them to run a bath for prince Daemon. Oh, and we will need Grand Maester's assistance as well." The knight nodded, and left.
You got in your chambers again and helped Daemon with his clothes. He was trying to do it by himself but the obvious signs of pain on his face and the hisses escaping his mouth moved you to help your husband. You undid his belt, and Dark Sister fell to your feet from around his waist. Before you helped him to sit down on your bed, you took his trousers off, and you noticed that he had another wound a little below his knee. For the shape of it, you would say that it had been another arrow as well.
"You want to do it yourself?" You asked him. The arrow remaining stuck in his chest needed to be out so could keep undressing him. Daemon shook his head.
"You do it." The prince said, and he bit his lower lip down, closing his eyes. His head rested on your belly as you firmly grabbed the piece of wood. "Take a deep breath." You recommended him and he did as you said. When his lungs were filled with air, you pulled out the arrow. A shiver run down your husband's spine but he didn't complain, not even a groan left his mouth. A little bit of blood came out of his wound, staining your nightgown that was already ruined because of Daemon's hair against the fabric, but you couldn't care less.
As you both waited for the maids to arrive, you stayed in that position as you caressed his long hair. Finally getting some rest after days.
Then you carefully removed every layer of the clothes he was wearing from his body. The maids were already in the room, getting the water ready for the prince. "Oh, Daemon." You swallowed nervously and you could hear a stifled whimper from the maids when you discovered prince Daemon's chest. He had two open wounds, the one the arrow that was stuck in him did, and another one on his lower abdomen. His skin had bruises everywhere, but it was even worse around his wounds. They were covered with dry blood, the colors purple, black and red decorated his white skin, and it didn't look good.
The maids left and it was just you and Daemon in the room. The prince walked naked to the bathtub. The windows of your chambers were getting foggy as the smoke came out of the water. Daemon slid into the bathtub, letting the hot water cover his whole body and feeling all his muscles relax. You grabbed the sponge and you knelt next to the bathtub, dipping the sponge in the water. You felt your hand burning, You could be the wife of a dragon but you were still sensitive to these things. Daemon hissed and you apologized when you started rubbing his chest, careful to not touch his wounds.
"Why didn't you wait for King Viserys' aid?" You rubbed the blood out of his neck and Daemon just looked at you with his eyebrows raised. You pressed your lips together and nodded. No words were needed, but you still thought that it had been a dumb move to not wait, yet you were so proud of your husband for what he just did.
You cleaned his face, his white skin returning to its normal color and then you focused on his hair. It was so long, probably the longest you can remember Daemon having it. You started by undoing his braid and then you asked him to sink his head into the water so you could wash the blood away. He felt in heaven, this was why he did not let himself be killed at the Stepstones. He didn't need titles, he didn't need his brother's aid, he didn't need the Stepstones, he just needed you brushing his hair while humming a song to him. Daemon could die at that moment.
"Your hair is really long. I shall braid it again once your wounds are treated." You kissed one of his temples once you were done with his hair and you stood on your feet. You helped the prince to get out of the bathtub and you moved behind him to cover his body with a towel. His back had big bruises all over it and you could guess it hurt badly when he hissed after the fabric fell on his shoulders You apologized right after and Daemon turned to look at you. His facial expression was soft, his eyes were kind and he looked at you with hope because the night he left for the Stepstones, Daemon thought it would be the last time he would see you. The prince held your chin up between his thumb and index fingers and he attached his lips to yours. His shoulders relaxed and both of his arms traveled down the length of your body to hug it against his while your lips moved together.
"I fucking missed you." Daemon groaned against your lips and you hummed, agreeing with him. Your husband's hands were already working on the back of your dress when the Grand Maester knocked on the door of your chamber. Daemon's kisses moved from your lips to behind your ear. "Don't." He murmured and bit the lobe of your ear, making you whimper. You placed your hand on his abdomen, feeling the blood running down it and meeting your fingers.
"Daemon, you're still bleeding." His kisses on your neck didn't stop because he didn't care about what you were saying. You had to bite your lip down to stop yourself from moaning. "Come in!" You said loud enough for the Grand Maester opened the door right after. Daemon's kisses stopped immediately, his forehead resting on your shoulder, defeated. Your hand went to caress his hair as you giggled at his reaction. Daemon sat on the bed again and took one of your hands between his, playing with your fingers and kissing your knuckles while the old man treated his wounds. If it had been you in Daemon's place, you would have been crying and panicking all the time while the Grand Maester poked at your wounds, trying to find any more pieces of the arrows, cleaning and removing the hard sticky mess that formed on the surface of them. But it was Daemon, and he didn't like to show any weakness or any sign of pain. Sometimes he would squeeze your hands, other times he would hiss, closing his eyes shut and then opening them again, sending deadly glances to the old man. Your kisses on the back of his hand stopped him from picking up Dark Sister from the floor and do only the Gods know what to the maester.
"I'll be right back." You announced him and Daemond let himself fall backward, completely defeated on your bed as he nodded. You accompanied the maester outside of your chambers and closed the door behind you. The Grand Maester told you how to take care of Daemon's wounds and to not allow him to tear out the stitches. He had done it before, thinking that his wounds would heal on their own, and of course they did not. You understood and quickly got back inside your chambers.
You let out a sigh after seeing what your husband was doing.
"I really liked your long hair."
"I liked it as well."
Daemon was in front of your full-length mirror, completely naked and with the Maester's scissors in hand, giving his beautiful long and silver hair some deadly cuts. "Let me help you. You will completely destroy your hair." Daemon was way taller than you so you had to grab the chair at your desk for the prince to sit down and be within your reach. You didn't ask him why he did it but the short hair made him look different, more mature, as if he was trying to escape the Rogue Prince. Maybe that was the image he wanted to give to his brother now that he had finally taken the Stepstones.
You couldn't save the lenght of his hair because he had already cut some locks of hair really short when you decided to intervene before it got any worse. The new haircut fit him better, the short hair sharpened his features but at the same time made him look softer. Of course, you would never say that to him because he would go crazy. "Handsome." You stated once you were done. You moved between the prince and the mirror and using your thumb and index finger to hold his chin, you made him look up at you. You fixed his hair as the prince's eyes looked at you with pure adoration. Both of his hands caressed your hips over your nightgown. You enjoyed his gentle touch until his fingers started to clutch at the thin fabric covering your body, slowly revealing your legs to him.
"You must rest." You said, knowing his intentions.
"Haven't you missed me? Because I fucking have." With the skirt of your nightgown completely clutched in between his fists, he pulled you closer to him, almost sitting you on his lap. "You were on my mind every single day... and every single night." Daemon looked up at you, dutifully. "You were all I could think about on the battlefield. About being between your legs again and how wet you'd be when I told you that we had taken the Stepstones." Daemon got up from the chair slowly, his hands sliding your dress off your body at the same time and you didn't resist him undressing you. If you left out the fact that he came home covered in his own blood, he would have been right about what would have happened when he told you that they had won. But his words at that moment were doing the same effect.
Your hands dug into his short hair once he connected his lips with yours. The pulls from your fingers on his scalp were softer when he had long hair, but now his hair was short enough to make him groan against your lips every time you pulled from his hair. Daemon walked you to the bed, his hands never leaving your waist as he carefully laid you on the mattress. He held his weight using his hands on both sides of your head, his hard cock pressing against your belly. Your lips were swollen once Daemon finally moved from them to focus on your neck, making you squirm under him. Your hands traveled down all his back, being really careful with the bruised skin under your fingers, feeling his muscles clench under your palms, until you got to his ass. Daemon's tooth brushed against your neck as his lips sucked harder on the soft skin of it after your hands squeezed his butt.
The prince's hand moved to cup one of your breasts, the whimper you let out sending electric waves down his spine. Using one of his legs he parted yours even wider, the firm holds on his cock helping him to rub his cock up and down your slit. As much as you wanted to hook your legs over the swell of his ass and let him fuck you so hard that the morning after you would have people questioning if you were okay, as much as you wanted to feel his hips slamming into you and he his hands digging into your hips from holding you in place, Daemon was hurt, so the fewer efforts he made, the better for his recovery.
"Let me do it."
And Daemon didn't object. He took your place but instead of lying on the mattress, Daemon sat with his back against the wall so he could have a perfect view of you. You used one of your hands to steady yourself on top of him, and with your other hand, you grabbed his cock by the base of it to help you sink it inside you. Daemon opened his mouth in a perfect 'o' form, letting out a moan and sinking his nails into the flesh of your waist. You let your head fall backward and bit your lower lip, being careful to not press onto Daemon's wounds with your hand on his abdomen.
You started by rolling your hips, feeling his dick brush the deepest places inside you. The sex with Daemon had been always amazing, even when you two weren't married, but you could count on the fingers of one hand the times he let you ride him, and when he did, it was basically him bucking his hips upwards, and taking the lead. He just loved to be in charge, taking you from behind while his fingers work on your clit and he mumbles the dirtiest things in your ear, having your legs over his shoulders as he pounds into you, even sitting on your dressing table and having your legs around his body and your nails scratching down his back.
His chest heaved as he gasped for air when instead of rolling your hips, you bounced on his dick. Daemon couldn't help but move his hands to your hips to help you go up and down his cock. Your moans muffled and died onto the skin of his neck as the muscles of your thighs began to burn. He really tried to let you have your way with him, set the pace and guide him, but he had missed you so much and you needed to feel him closer. Every time he leaves your side, you don't know if you'll ever see him again. Daemon leaned to trap your lips with his as he couldn't help but buck his hips upwards, meeting yours. "It's fine. I've got you." Your husband mumbled in your ear and right after he started kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear. You knotted your fingers into his short hair while you rolled your hips adding more pleasure to Daemon's thrust.
He didn't care about the pain as long as it was accompanied by you clenching around him. You moaned his name, feeling your throat go dry as your legs closed and shook, stopping him from thrusting into you anymore. Daemon came inside you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder but still holding you in place so you won't waste a single drop of him.
"We will fly tomorrow morning to the Stepstones." Daemon continued kissing your neck while you both came down from your highs. You knotted your fingers into his hair and used that grip to pull him closer to you as you hummed feeling his lips working on your neck.
"We?"
"Yes. They will name you Queen of the Narrow Sea."
#house of the dragon#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon fluff#house of the dragon angst#hotd x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen fluff#daemon targaryen angst#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen scenario#daemon targaryen x fem!reader#daemon targaryen reaction#daemon targaryen x reader#game of thrones#game of thrones smut#game of thrones fluff#game of thrones angst
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Traitors
Summary: Princess Y/N Velaryon has now been confined to her bedchambers as preparations are made to crown Aegon II as King. She is given the choice to betray her mother and family or her husband, Prince Aemond.
Warnings: mentions of death/incest cause of marriage (established relationship with rhaenyra & laenor/harwin’s eldest daughter)/cussing/crying/arguments/pregnancy/marriage strain/break up?/ANGST/part 2...possibly?/ALL RIGHTS TO HBO
Word Count: 3530
*NOT MY GIF*
You were woken by the sounds of jingling keys and voices outside your door. You were quick to get out of bed, going over and rattling the locked knob.
“What is the meaning of this?” No answer, “I demand you unlock this door.” Again, nobody said anything. You could hear the armour of the guards shifting as they stood in front of your door.
More voices came from your window, you peered into one of the courtyards of the Red Keep. All the servants and workers rushing around. Something wasn’t right. You had even finally taken notice that Aemond was not in your bed. His sword and other weapons gone as well.
You paced around your room for what seemed like hours. You tried to distract yourself by getting dressed, doing your hair, and even tidying up your bedchambers. Yet, you still continued to ponder all the reasons there would be to keep you confined to your rooms like this.
You sat at the window before the door squeaked open, your mother-in-law, the Queen, stepping in, “Good morning, Princess Y/N.”
You took note of her rather glum demeanor but your frustration still got the better of you, “Good morning?” you scoffed, “I’ve been locked in my chambers for Gods know how long and that’s all you’ve got to say to me?”
“Apologies for the lack of decorum,” she sniffled a bit.
“Has something happened?”
“The King,” she stifled a bit before collecting herself, “he has passed.”
Your chest welled with sorrow at the news of your grandsire’s death, “How? When? I-I just saw him at dinner. How could this…” your voice faded as you let out soft cries, falling into a nearby chair.
The Queen rushed over to you, taking your hands in hers as she knelt beside your seat, “I’m so sorry, Princess,” she comforted you, “I loved your grandsire, more than-”
Your mind finally caught up, “Wait,” you loosened your hands from hers, “But what does that have to do with me being locked in my room? And where is Aemond?”
Alicent stood back up, “Aemond is out with Ser Criston at the moment.”
“Doing what? Where?”
“Royal duties that needed attending to in the city. He is well, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“What I’m really asking is what in Seven Hells is going on?” your tone louder than before as you sniffled, “Why are Aemond and Ser Criston gallivanting in the city?”
“Those matters are between the Prince and me.”
You rolled your eyes at her explanation, “Does my mother know about Viserys’ death? Has a raven been sent to her?” Alicent swallowed harshly at your questions, “Your Grace?”
“Princess Rhaenyra will be notified in due time-”
“Due time?! Her father is dead. She is to become Queen. My mother needs to know,” you erupted from your seat, “And what of my grandmother? The Princess Rhaenys. Where is she?”
“The Princess Rhaenys is in her chambers as well. Hopefully thinking over the offer I have given her.”
“Offer? What offer? And what of our dragons?”
“Princess Y/N,” she took your hands once again, “Your Grandsire, my husband, confessed something to me before his passing.”
“W-What?” your brow furrowed at her words.
She cleared her throat, “He said he wished for Aegon to be King.”
You ripped your hands away from her, “What? What are you talking about? King Viserys has never once swayed from having my mother as his heir. And now you’re saying that just before he died that he said he wanted my uncle to succeed him?”
“It is the truth. Believe it or not. I would not lie about-”
“He is your son, Alicent! Ever since he was born, you and your father have been trying to get him installed as heir. And now that my grandsire can no longer defend my mother’s claim, you plan to usurp the throne for him.”
“It was your grandsire’s dying wish, Princess. I am doing this to honour his memory. And I am asking for your support.”
“You are asking me to betray my own mother? My entire family. So that your son can become king.”
“They are not your entire family. You have Aemond and your baby,” she nodded towards your swollen belly, your hands instinctively wrapping around it, “If we have your support, it might help in getting Rhaenyra to bend the knee as well. That is also why we must keep your dragons.”
You shook your head, “This is treason. And I will not be used as a bargaining chip for your political schemes.”
Alicent scoffed, “What do you think your marriage to Aemond is, Princess? I only agreed to the match because it’s what Viserys wanted and because it was supposed to help bring our families back together, to amend those grievances.”
“And yet, here you are, making your plans to steal my mother’s throne. Every grievance in our family is no one’s fault but yours and your power-hungry father’s. My grandsire was a kind man with a gentle heart and you are destroying his memory. Get out.”
Alicent let out a heavy sigh, “I will leave you to ponder your decision, Princess. Ring the bell when you have your answer.”
And with that, the Queen left your chambers. You scoffed to yourself, thinking how could one person have so much nerve? And now you were a prisoner in what was supposed to be your home.
Hours seemed to pass once again as you pondered all of your thoughts. Thoughts on how to escape. Thoughts on where Aemond might be. Thoughts on how to get to your mother and family. All thoughts were interrupted as the bedroom door creaked open once again.
You looked up from the book you had been reading, “Hello, my love,” your husband smiled at you, his hair slightly tangled, looking as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle.
“Aemond,” you rushed over to him, letting his long arms embrace you. You couldn’t help but cry softly into his chest, “Viserys, he’s-”
“Dead,” Aemond finished, “I know. I’m sorry I was not here to grieve with you.”
You pulled away, “Your mother said you were out in the capital with Ser Criston. Though she refused to tell me why. And what’s happened to you?” Your hands softly caressed his mangled hair and reddened face.
“She sent us to go find Aegon. To bring him back here for his coronation tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning?” you scoffed, “I have to give your mother credit. Her schemes work fast.”
“It is not a scheme, Y/N. Aegon is the rightful king, it’s his birthright.”
“Please do not tell me you’re actually supporting this usurping of my mother’s throne?”
“Rhaenyra cannot rule the Seven Kingdoms. War will ensue if she were to wear the crown.”
“And it won’t if Aegon is crowned instead?” Aemond didn’t answer, “Aegon is not fit to be king, you know that better than anyone. And my mother nor Daemon will ever bend the knee to him. Nor will my brothers, which you know.”
“They will have to or be branded traitors to the realm-”
“Your mother and her father are the traitors! So is everyone else who is complicit in Aegon’s ascension,��� you argued, “King Viserys named my mother as his heir and did not waver from that for the past twenty years that Aegon’s been alive. Why would he have now?”
“Perhaps he realized the importance of tradition. And why putting Rhaenyra on the throne would be a mistake.”
“Oh, Aemond, please! Do not spout to me the importance of tradition. The King’s word is law.”
“And the laws and traditions say that the King’s firstborn son is-”
“Firstborn child,” you corrected him, “The laws and traditions say that the King’s firstborn child is the rightful heir. And that is my mother. Not Aegon. Even so, Viserys named my mother as his heir. Lords of the Realm swore oaths to her claim. Your mother and grandsire included.”
“Stale oaths, Y/N,” Aemond explained, “Those lords only did that to keep the King’s peace.”
“And whoever chooses to follow Aegon is no longer doing their duty of up-keeping that peace. The minute they put that crown onto his head is the minute they are declaring war against my mother.”
“Not if you bend the knee,” Aemond took your hands in his, “Rhaenyra will not attack the capital if her daughter is in it. Her grandchild as well.”
You snatched your hands from him, “You sound just like your mother,” you scoffed, “I am not a political pawn, Aemond. And I will not be kept hostage in my own home.”
“Y/N, that is not what I meant-”
“What else could you have meant, Aemond? I will not betray my mother nor will I allow you or your mother to paint me as a traitor for the sake of some power-hungry grudge that you all hold against mine.”
Aemond let out a harsh sigh, “Y/N, please. This isn’t just about your mother or mine. This is about us and what will happen if you do not bend the knee. We will be separated. Torn apart by a war that is not our own. Please, my love,” he took one of your hands while the other fell to your bump, “I do not want to lose you or our child.”
Your breath quivered as you met his gaze, placing your hand on his cheek, “And I do not want to lose you either.” Aemond’s demeanor eased at your words, “But I will not betray my family. I will not bend the knee to anyone but my mother.”
His jaw tensed, “You are choosing to break us apart then.”
“No, you are choosing to break us and the rest of the realm apart. I can assure nothing but destruction and loss will follow if Aegon is crowned. Aemond, you must realize this.”
“I realize that my wife does not understand the importance of up-keeping traditions and laws. Aegon is my brother, Y/N. You should not expect me to betray him.”
You scoffed, “But you expect me to betray my mother.”
“I expect you to do your duty to the Realm-”
“I am!” you shouted, “I have always done my duty to the Realm! I have always done my duty to my family. I have always done my duty to you. But what you ask is not duty. It is treason.”
Aemond just shook his head, “I am not losing you. Or our child,” he grabbed his sword from the side of the bed, strapping it to his waist once again.
“Aemond,” you grew worried, “What are you doing?”
“You do not wish to see them put the crown on Aegon’s head. That’s fine. You will stay here until the ceremony is finished.”
Aemond swung the chamber door open, you didn’t even realize what was happening fully until it shut in your face. You pounded against it as you heard the lock click.
“Aemond!” you cried, “Aemond, do not do this!”
“It is what has to be done, Y/N,” he spoke from the other side of the door, “I will not lose you.”
“Aemond, please,” your voice quivered.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice barely above a whisper before clearing his throat, “I will return when the ceremony is complete.”
That was the last you heard from him followed by the fading sounds of his boots on the cobblestone. In one fell swoop, the Greens had managed to destroy one of the best parts of your life because of their constant thirst for the crown.
You lay in bed for the remainder of that night, tears staining your pillow and deep sobs erupting from your chest. Though somehow, you had managed to find some sleep. But the sounds of some sort of scuffle outside of your room woke you up.
Ser Erryk Cargyll entered the room alongside your grandmother, “What’s happening?”
Your grandmother had a cloak over her, “Y/N, we must go now.”
“With me, Princess,” Ser Erryk extended a similar cloak to you.
You quickly threw it over yourself before taking your grandmother’s hand and following behind the two of them.
“Grandmother, what’s going on? Where are we going?” you panted as you all hurried through the Red Keep. Your breath nearly ceased as you saw the hanging body of Lord Caswell in the courtyard. You don’t know what could have warranted such a thing, he’d been kind to you growing up in the castle.
“We are getting you out of this city,” Ser Erryk answered.
“What of our dragons?” Rhaenys asked, “I won’t leave Meleys.”
“And I won’t leave Seasmoke,” you cut in.
Ser Erryk gave you both looks of pity as you trudge through the crowds of people in the city. City Watchmen were ushering people every which way, all three of you getting mangled in the crowd. Though your grandmother kept a tight grip on you, Ser Erryk was pushed ahead.
Your grandmother tightened her grip on you, “Do not let go of my hand, Y/N.”
You nodded as the crowd continued to push you forward. You looked up to see where everyone was going, seeing the Dragon Pit in the distance. You exchanged a knowing smirk with your grandmother. Aegon was to be crowned in the Dragon Pit.
The two of you had finally reached the Dragon Pit, Ser Erryk still lost somewhere in the sea of people that crowded into the building. You saw your family-in-law standing on a platform in the middle along with the High Septon and Ser Criston Cole. Aemond stood stoically, Helaena looking uneasy while your mother-in-law and her father only stood pridefully.
“People of King’s Landing,” Otto Hightower spoke up, “today is the saddest of days. Our beloved king, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead.”
Murmurs spread through the crowds at the news. Alicent looking melancholy, you weren’t sure if it was genuine or not. You looked at your husband, still standing statuesque. It broke your heart to see him up there. To see him so complicit in breaking apart everything you had built together.
“But it is also the most joyous of days,” Otto continued, “for as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish: that his firstborn son, Aegon, should succeed him.”
The satisfaction in his voice nearly made you ill. The applause that erupted from the crowd hurt you even more so. You knew not everyone was in favour of your mother becoming Queen but did it truly take so little for everyone to turn against her?
Just then the City Watch and other members of the royal guard filed into the Dragon Pit. Pushing through the crowds and creating a path from a side entryway of the Dragon Pit to the platform where the Greens stood. Trumpets were blown before the City Watch presented their swords, holding them high and forming a tunnel. Aegon stood at the end of it, your grandsire’s dagger on one hip and a sword on the other.
Aegon began to walk through the makeshift tunnel as the guards lowered their swords as he passed them. Everyone in the Dragon Pit practically held their breath as he walked through the crowd.
“They gave him Blackfyre,” your grandmother whispered over to you.
Your eyes fell to the large Valyrian steel sword that rested on your uncle’s hip as he walked, “Aegon the Conqueror’s sword.” It made you uneasy to see such a powerful weapon in the hands of an ingrate like Aegon.
“It is your good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this:” Otto started up again, “a new day for our city, a new day for our realm. A new king to lead us.”
Alicent stepped to greet Aegon with a kiss on his forehead before guiding him to the High Septon. You and your grandmother continued to watch as Otto instructed Aegon to kneel before the High Septon.
You felt your grandmother’s hand on yours, “Come, Y/N.”
“Where are we going?” you whispered as she pulled you along through the crowds. The High Septon’s words faded as you got further away from the platform.
“We are getting the dragons and we are leaving,” she answered hastily as you ran through the dark tunnels beneath the Dragon Pit.
“Wait,” you stopped dead in your tracks, your grandmother’s hand slipping through yours.
“What?” she looked over you worriedly, “What is it?”
“Aemond,” you answered softly, “I-I don’t want to leave him.”
“Y/N, you are Rhaenyra’s firstborn daughter, a challenge for the throne. Your child as well. Do you truly think the Greens will let either of you live?”
You shook your head as tears fell onto your cheeks, “Aemond would never. He-”
“It is not Aemond that you should be worried about. It is everyone else. Aegon, the Queen, Otto Hightower,” she took your hands into hers, “You and your child are no longer safe here in King’s Landing. We must get to Dragonstone. We must warn your mother and Daemon. They are all in danger.”
You knew she was right. Aemond would try to protect you. But for how long? What happens when he’s sent off as an envoy on behalf of his family? Who would protect you and your child then?
“Fine,” you nodded, “You’re right, Grandmother. We need to go now.”
She stroked your cheek, “I’m sorry this is how it has to be, sweet girl.”
Your hand fell onto hers, “As am I. But we must go.”
The two of you went off to where both dragons had been nesting. Seasmoke growled as he woke up.
“Shhh,” you purred at him. His growls turned to deep coos at the sound of your voice, “Sȳz valītsos.” Good boy.
You stroked the side of his large head, continuing to soothe him in High Valyrian. You carefully climbed up his side and onto the seat on the top of his back. You could hear the ceremony continuing.
“The crown of the Conqueror passed down through generations,” you heard Ser Criston’s voice, muffled by the cement above you, “Let the Seven bear witness: Aegon Targaryen is the heir to the Iron Throne.”
There was some sort of pause before the High Septon began to speak, “All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!”
Your face curled in disgust at all the titles having been bestowed upon Aegon. He never deserved to bear them nor had he ever shown any interest in doing so.
The bells of the city began to toll, “Aegon the King!” Ser Criston cried. The crowds of citizens erupted into cheers and applause. How could they cheer for such a lecherous man?
Your thoughts could hardly register when you heard the harsh roar of Meleys and the crumbling of the stone above you. Meleys broke through the floor, terrorizing everyone in the Dragonpit. Seasmoke crawled to the top as well, roaring deeply. Both dragons stomped through the clouds of rubble.
They both finally settled as Seasmoke growled deeply at the Greens while Meleys moved slightly closer to them. The Greens stood petrified by the fear of you and your grandmother’s dragons. Alicent pushed Ser Criston to guard Helaena while she stood protectively in front of Aegon. Aemond tried to stand bravely, staring down the dragons in a futile attempt.
You looked over to your grandmother, unable to read her face as Meleys continued to approach the Greens, “Grandmother,” you called to her, soft pleas in your eyes. She looked at you, letting out a sigh as she turned back to the Greens. Alicent closed her eyes, preparing for your grandmother to utter the word that would have ended them all.
Your eyes fell on your husband, his gaze already fixated on you, “I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered back, biting back tears. You closed your eyes as well, trying to ready yourself to hear the cries of burning people. But your hands quickly flew to your ears as Meleys let out an ear-piercing shriek.
Your eyes blinked open, the Greens were unharmed other than looking completely terrified. Your grandmother looked over to you, giving you a slight smile before patting Meleys who turned and flew out of the Dragonpit.
You turned back one last time, looking at your husband, his face begging you to stay. But you both knew that wasn’t a possibility anymore.
“Soves,” you whispered to your dragon. He turned and quickly flew out of the Dragon Pit. You looked back to see the doors to it shutting completely.
You looked at the sky and clouds that now surrounded you. It should’ve been a joyous feeling, to have finally escaped what could have been a dire situation. But all you could think about was the look on Aemond’s face. His entire demeanor begging you to stay. And you left him all the same. You might not have betrayed your mother. But you were still a traitor in an even worse way.
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond one eye#prince aemond#aemond fanfiction#hotd aemond#aemond targaryen angst#aemond x y/n#aemond imagine#aemond x velaryon reader#house velaryon#velaryon reader#house targaryen#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#house strong#aemond x strong reader#angst#house of the dragon angst#aegon targaryen#rhaenys targaryen#alicent hightower#helaena targaryen#otto hightower#ser criston cole#the dragonpit#meleys#seasmoke#dance of the dragons
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Do you love me
Afterwards:say you love me , part 3 or something like that ?
Warning: Disturbing themes,Depression, miscarriage, character death,bad writing…
English is my second language
GIF NOT MINE. If it's yours, please come claim credit or let me know if you want me to remove it
Notes: Just me enjoying Aegons suffer. Really I like tragedy.
The only daughter of her mother Rhaenyra, the apple of the eye of the house Velaryon , the realms beauty , the pure , perfect , loved by all and more these were the adjectives that defines y/n Velaryon.
For Aegon, she was his sun. With Her warm smile and her gentle behavior that warms his heart, his hope light.
He shouldn't have loved someone as ugly as himself and a pure beauty like you, but his greed was getting in the way. He liked the way you warn them when he and your brothers when bully Aemond because that was the only way he could talk to you. He was jealous of the attention you gave your siblings,Aemond and Helaena. He just wanted you to look at him, talk to him, dedicate yourself to him.
Then something happened that he couldn't believe. The gods he doesn't believe in must have taken pity on him because his father, Visersy, proposed a marriage proposal between you and him to prevent tensions between blacks and greens. Aegon agreed without hesitation, and you accepted for your family. He confessed to you on your wedding night.
-
“I love you”
He looked at you to see your reaction. He saw your gentle smile warm eyes. Then you spoke
“Me too. I love you “
-
Your marriage wasn't so bad after all. Although you didn't see your family very often, you were not alone and your beloved husband, Aegon, would not have left you alone for a moment. Although Aegon was the happiest in marriage, Alicent was as happy with it as her son. You took such good care of her son. Her son had changed his drinking habits a little bit, he wasn't drinking as much as he used to, he was cleaner thanks to your efforts. He hasn't been interested in prostitutes at all since you got married.
Aegon was happy. Everything was going perfectly. He loved you, you loved him, and you were pregnant. Sometimes Aegon thought he was dreaming of a perfect life that couldn't be real...
-
Then you got the news that ended your perfect life.
“Lucersy Velaryon is dead. At Storm's End-"
When you heard the news, your head started to spin. ‘Is my brother Lucersy dead? No it can't be' then your eyes went black and you passed out.
-
Nothing has been the same since that damn night. You were unhappy. You didn't want to do your daily activities such as eating or walking. The only thing keeping you alive was the child in your womb. This did not go unnoticed by Aegon.
-
You were getting ready for bed. You were combing your hair in front of the mirror. Then you saw a familiar silhouette behind you and your husband hugged you from behind.
"What's the problem?" ' Aegon asked, his voice a little twisted.
"What are you trying to say" you didn't look at him.
“Then why are you in this situation!”
Aegon turned your face to him. He saw your eyes, those eyes that were once filled with happiness were now filled with sorrow.
“I love you, you know that… do you love me?” ' asked Aegon.
“I love you, but my love for you is not strong enough to cover my brother's death, this war, this grief.”
Aegon hugged you. This is how the night ended.
-
Aegon thought it couldn't get any worse, but after the miscarriage, you seemed completely dead. Just thinking about that moment was enough to have a nightmare. You screamed desperately in tears on the bloody sheets on the bed… Aegon felt awful. His sun, his only lover, was fading . Your eyes had lost the light of life, you weren’t eating or drinking. And he couldn't do anything as your husband.
One night Aegon did something he shouldn't have done, drank more than usual and said things he shouldn't have said while drunk.
-
“I'm sick of this mourning! You are my wife! Take care of your husband! After all that hard work for you, this is the reward! I wish you were dead so you wouldn't bother me so much"
“…”
When Aegon looked at you, he instantly regretted his words.
"I am sorry. My tongue slipped. I love you I'm just a little tired so-"
He desperately hugged and kissed you.
"You love me don't you?"
“…”
This time you didn't answer, only your silence spoke. The night passed as quiet as the pre-death silence, save for Aegon's sobs and tears.
In the morning the whole court was awakened by Aegon's screams . When Queen Alicent entered the room, she found her son hugging tightly his wife with bloody hands. Aegon's only wife had committed suicide.
-
“Please open your eyes Y/n! I didn't mean it like that. I was drunk. Please do not leave me!"
Alicent was heartbroken at the sight of her son's desperate begs over his wife's body.
“Aegon she is dead” Alicent held out her hand to his son but Aegon slapped it harshly.
"No!" He said, hugging his dead wife's body tighter.
“Get out! Get out, I don't want anyone! Get out!”
-
No funeral was held Aegon was adamant not to give his lover's body. For the first two days, Aegon did not leave his chamber and did not let anyone into . On the third day, he was allowed to enter the chamber and was smiling. Alicent was horrified to see her son in this state.
“Aegon you-this-” she pointed to the dead woman.
“Oh mom it's okay my wife is just a little tired. She needs a rest.”
“Rest?! Aegon, this girl is dead!”
Aegon's smile dropped. He approached his mother.
“I think you misunderstood . She just needs a rest. Do you understand mom. Now cancel the funeral preparations, they are really getting on my nerves"
#yandere house of the dragon#yandere house of the dragon x reader#yandere hotd#dark hotd x reader#dark house of the dragon#yandere house targaryen#yandere aegon ii targaryen#yandere aegon targaryen x reader#yandere aegon targaryen#yandere aegon the usurper#dark aegon ii#dark aegon targaryen#hotd fanfic#hotd angst#house of the dragon#dark hotd#house of the dragon angst#aegon targaryen#aegon ii#aegon x reader#aegon the usurper#aegon targaryen fanfic#hotd#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#tw: toxic relationships#yandere
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pretty when you cry
aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader
synopsis: sneaking into your brothers chambers has sickening consequences
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aemond was pounding into you with alarming speed. his taut body was hot against yours, and his slender fingers were gripping the skin of your thighs. he was moaning in your ear, you trapped underneath him, you were clawing at the bedsheets.
“aemond,” you mewled, struggling for release from his relentlessness.
aemond hissed, “shush, i can’t concentrate..” he was steadily focused on not finishing early, he was bent on making you squeeze the cum out of him, but out of your own release.
aemond flipped you over suddenly, and you were disoriented, even as he filled you up again, aemond was now over you, his face dangerously close to yours.
he was groaning now, shaking impossibly as he rutted into you.
as you felt the pressure building, you heard the chambers doors open, a huge and heavy creak was heard, just as a flash of silver hair was seen. you blinked, hoping your eyes had deceived you.
aemond didn’t even notice, all he was focused on was your cunt, and the way you felt full of him.
aemond squeezed your breast, his fingers gripping your nipples tightly, he pulled as you groaned with pain.
“aemond,” you moaned, and you let a hand fall down to his back, pulling him in for more, “aemond!” you screamed just as you came, you clawed at the skin on his back just as aemond came too.
you both looked into each others eyes, you into his eye, smiling, until you saw someone creep over aemonds shoulder.
aegon clapped his hands together, slowly and with a sick smirk.
“what a show!” he chuckled, “sister,” he looked at you, your face covered with sweat and flushed, you looked away in shame, “brother.” aegon looked at aemond, eyebrows raised.
“i’m going to assume that no one has any idea of this..arrangement?” he pondered a thought in his head, just as aemond pulled out of you.
you were bare, wet with slick and fluids, aemond closed your legs as he shucked on a robe from the floor.
aegon looked you over and shrugged, “i won’t tell if you open up.” aegon crawled onto the bed and you felt him pull your legs open. you watched him carefully, aware that aemond was staring at the sight of the two of you.
aegon pulled you up by your legs, letting them rest on his shoulders as he sucked at your cunt. you were surprised at the pleasure, struggling to be quiet, aegon did something to you that left you moaning loudly.
aemond made you scream, but aegon was on the verge of making you sob.
you squirmed under him, but aegon held you down, his eyes looked up at you, his mouth full of your juices, and aemond’s cum.
aegon sucked like a starving peasant, and you shuddered as you came right onto his tongue.
aemond pulled aegon back and shoved his cock right in you.
you were still shaking from the last orgasm, and aemond was irritated at having his older brother basically show him up. clearly, one eyed aemond wasn’t having it.
aegon smirked at you but your eyes were too busy rolling into the back of your head.
“fuck her like you mean it. or i will!” aegon egged his brother on and just as aemond had listened, aegon shoved him out of the way, “move. i’ll show you.” he muttered, taking his cock out, he spat on it once before shoving it into your cunt.
you moaned loudly, aegon felt different to aemond. aemond was long, slender, but what aegon had was girth, girth that made you feel like you were being torn in half.
“fuck!” you screamed, the nerve of aegon to quicken his pace was irritating, but so pleasureable.
aemond was getting agitated, annoyed that you were being fucked to tears by his brother, he got under you, and shoved his cock in your other hole.
you hadn’t toyed with that hole yet, but as aemond slammed into you, you felt the tears spill onto your cheeks as you screamed bloody murder.
aemond and aegon both laughed together, “look at her,” aegon muttered as he thrusted, aemond following his lead, “so fucking,” he thrusted, “full of cock,” again, “it hurts.” and he quickened now.
you were on aemond’s chest, and you bit your lip as he rutted into you.
aemond squeezed your leg, “you look so pretty when you cry.” he whispered. you sniffled just as another tear slipped down your cheek.
“aegon,” you cried, “please..” you couldn’t even form the words as you came, shaking violently in between them, both brothers were chuckling at the sight of you blubbering, and crying, stuffed full of cock.
aegon slapped your face lazily, “stay with us,” he grunted, “be a good girl now.”
aemond slammed into you, and you shrieked again, earning another slap of encouragement from aegon.
“don’t think this will be over soon.” one of them warned, but you were so dazed you weren’t sure who.
#house of the dragon#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon angst#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader#aegon targaryen x y/n#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon x you#aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader#aemond targaryen smut#aegon targaryen#aegon targaryen smut#aemond fluff#hotd smut#hotd angst#hotd x reader#hotd imagine#hotd aemond
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Rubies Hidden With Blood -Aemond Targaryen
Authors Note: Hello, thank you for the patience while I am on a writing break. I’m still trying to figure out life and how to fix it, but I channeled some of the pain and anger into this and I hope you like it . I hope you are all staying safe and healthy out there in the world - Ultralightpoe
Warnings: mentions of executions, adultery, foul language
Word Count: 4996
MAIN Master List
Description: Inspired by Anne Boleyn and Elizabeth. (INSPIRED. You are not either of them you’re a character inspired by them)
(Thank you for the gif @onemillionyous )
x Enjoy! x
To Anne Boleyn, who spent the last month of her life preparing for the rest of her daughters life to the best of her ability. Every stitch and warning given was noticed.
And to Elizabeth, who spent the rest of her life hiding footprints for her mother in a home that had tried to strip her memory.
To the bond of the two, never truly understood.
-
You stood, stiff and freezing in the cold weather, on the very steps your mother walked up the day she was executed. A message you were very sure your father intended, one that you would not cave into.
Verlain, your fathers hand, stood to your right with a grim expression as he did his best to stop looking to the stained spot at the top of the steps. Where her blood had leaked down, seeping into the stone in a mark that would be there forever. It would be centuries before her death would be forgotten, a fact that sent a wave of nausea through you, gripping you in its fierce hold as you tried to inhale some fresh air. Fighting to keep the tears welling in your eyes at bay as the corset constricts against your ribs.
Breathe. Keep your wits about you.
“Are you feeling alright, your highness?” Verlain asks, eyebrows pinching together as he watches your hand slide across the front of your dress, as if you could ease the ache in your ribs and lungs from rubbing it. His tone slips at the last two words and you have to bite back the bitter laugh, not willing to risk your breath on it.
A moon ago you had been nothing more than a bastard to this court, upon his orders. Anyone within earshot of his majesty knew that the forsaken daughter of the castle whore would be painted a bastard the rest of her life.
The second her body had been carted off he had your handmaiden pack you up, sending you both to an estate far off, so that he would never have to look upon your face again.
“You haunt me! You plain cunt! You HAUNT ME!” He had yelled the day you begged, the day you crawled to your knees begging him to keep you. Of course you haunted him, you had her face. And whether he had to look upon you or not you were sure she haunted his every move.
She surely hadn’t visited you since she passed. There were no ghosts in the offwood estate. This castle, however, had more than you could dare keep track of.
But you hadn’t seen her. Whether you should be thankful for that had yet to be seen.
“Princess?” Verlain asks again, taking a step up, getting closer as he extends a hand to you. “Prin-“
“Don’t call me that.” You sneer, slapping his hand away from you and readjusting the veil that covered your face. Even with your back turned to the spit you could still see her blood on the stone, gulping quickly. Don’t look. Don’t. Look.
But Verlains eyes cast behind you to the stain, his neck showing an audible gulp before he guiltily looks back to you. “Princess, I never got to speak with you after-“
“I’m not your princess.” Your tone was cold, and you made a show of shooing him away. “And you should mind yourself, Lord Verlain. If his majesty catches you this close he might think ill of the intent.”
Verlains face pales, the man stepping back so quickly he nearly slips on the steps before turning back to the courtyard below, fixing his embellished attire.
You missed being a bastard. A bastard would never be sold off like this.
There was a war brewing, and many of the kingdoms were beginning to panic for alliances, this kingdom included. And there was one ally that everyone wanted, the seven kingdoms. Westeros. For there was truly no war that could be won against them.
You’d never seen a dragon, and if this was any under circumstance you would be excited. But this was your very own death march. Or as your mothers own prophet had claimed “you’ll earn your mothers reckoning.”
There was an ax somewhere out there with your name on it….. or maybe the jaw of a dragon ready to chew you up.
Before you could much more on it a firm grip snatches the back of your neck, pulling a gasp from you as it pulls you to them aggressively, the smell of wine filling your senses. “You step a foot out of line today and I’ll have your head just like I had your fucking mothers. You hear me, bastard? I’ll spike in on a fucking post.”
You can only nod, afraid that if you give a verbal response you might whine in pain, and you refuse to show him that weakness. He takes your response, letting go before moving to speak with Verlain as your older sister and little brother stand off to the side.
The best way to secure an alliance was through marriage. Your older sister couldn’t be married off since she was already married to a lord, and your younger brother was the heir to the kingdom, not to mention the Targaryens didn’t have many girls to marry off.
But they had Aemond Targaryen, the rumored demon of Westeros, with one eye and the largest dragon.
So you were renamed a princess, one that would be able to marry a prince.
Princess of whores being married to a prince of monsters. If your mother could see you now.
Bile rises up your throat as the memory of her face flashes through your mind, your eyes once again welling with tears. Stop thinking about her. Stop stop stop stop stop.
The heavy sound of thunder pulls your attention, blinking slowly as you try to peer through the veil to see the storm on its way, only to see clear skies. Confusion fills you as your brother gasps loudly, and then you see them, a hoard of dragons filling the skylines as their wings flap in unison . Not thunder, dragons.
Nausea fills you once more, and yet your mouth goes dry, fists clenching into the heavy skirts of your dress as you spot the older dragon riding in the back, a blur of long white hair flying with it.
And you know without a doubt, your future husband has arrived.
-
“Listen to me.” She sobs, falling to her knees before you as you cry out, the banging on the door scaring you even more than her tears. “You need to listen to me.”
“Where is papa?!” You scream, your mothers handmaidens rushing around the room as she pulls your face closer to hers by the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together.
“Listen. To. Me.” She seethes, wiping your tears with a swipe of her thumb. “Breathe. Keep your wits about you. I need you to remember that these people are not your kin. They are not yours. They will not protect you.”
“Mama-“
“And your father is not- do. Not. Trust. Your. Father.”
“Mama please-“
“You need to remember to breathe. Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And?”
“Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And…. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken. They cannot break me.”
“Good. Good girl.” She sobs, reaching to kiss your forehead, her lips holding there for a long moment as the door to your mothers apartments break open and the guards storm in.
The handmaidens pull you back quickly, right as your mother shoves something in the top of your dress before they are on her. There is no gentleness in the way they grab her by her hair and drag her out, and there is no gentleness in the grip the handmaidens keep on you as you claw and bite to get to her.
By the time they are out of sight there is nothing left but her shoe that had fallen as she was dragged out, and what she had hidden in your dress.
Your mother had been taken.
-
Aemond was sick of the wind, a feeling he never thought he would get and yet it has arrived. He was ready to land, get a break from the beast below his thighs and have a meal that hadn’t been dried and shoved into a satchel last week.
His mothers boat stayed below them, his eldest sister's dragon taking the lead of their travel in the front as his uncle stuck to her right. Aegon, a spoiled brat through and through, was left in Kings Landing to act as King Regent as Rhaenyra traveled with them.
Helaena and Jacaerys keeping him in check.
But his brother had gotten under Aemonds skin just fine before they left, whispering rumors about his future bride in drunken slurs that made him both angry in a protective manner and angry in nervousness that the whispers might be true.
“They passed her mother around the court like a toy to their whims, and when she was used up they killed her and replaced her with her daughter. You’ll get nothing but a rag dear brother.”
The kingdom they flew to now had always been secretive within itself, and word rarely left it’s shores. The only thing anyone really knew is they had an army of soldiers that had yet to be conquered, who wore gold armor and spoke in ancient whispers.
He is snapped out of his haze as Rhaenyra signals to land, and Aemond takes a moment to rejoice in the feeling of his feet on soil, focusing on that the entire hike up to the castle with his mothers arm now looped into his as Vhagar and the ship are left at the docks.
“Don’t be nervous.” Alicent Hightower whispers, reaching a hand to swipe at his cheek, humming in discontent before licking the pad of her thumb and swiping his cheek once more. He groans, trying to pull back.
Even if she meant well he knew his mother never understood how painful the skin near his eye was. The scar was always pulling and swollen, not to mention how hard the eye was to clean if the patch moved even the slightest bit.
“I hear she’s beautiful.” Lucerys offers, keeping close to his own mothers side. “You saw her painting!”
Indeed Aemond had, and like a lovestruck fool he had stared at it for hours until it was time to go. The very painting now sat in his chambers, waiting to be hung for after the wedding…. If there was to be a wedding.
His chest tightens as the castle steps come into view, multiple figures dressed in their finest clothes standing among them.
In the front, in the most ridiculous frille of red and gold, stood the king. A smug smile laced on his features as an overly large crown stands on his head. Beside him with her arms crossed primly was a younger woman, wearing a smaller tiara of red rubies and a busty gown that he was sure Aegon would have leered at, smiling from ear to ear.
The king and his 5th wife then, and behind him a bit to the left on an upper step, had to be Verlain. The hand to the king.
Two more figures a bit further up, one clad in a light blue dress, rubbing at her stomach softly as she watched with nothing more than a nervous expression. Making eye contact with Aemond for just a moment before her face goes red and she looks away, disgust at himself rising in his chest.
What will my future wife think? He wonders, panic clawing at his throat. Will she refuse me? Will I truly be so ugly?
Before he can take a closer look at the boy beside the pregnant woman he looks over to…. You. Standing a little further to the right of the rest, obviously not really knowing where else to go, with a veil covering your face and wearing a gown of black and red. The long petticoat skirts held within your hands, the long bell sleeves barely covering your hands and the cape connected to the back of the dress making you look every bit pristine.
The first thing he notes is the lack of jewelry. No rings, no crown or tiara, no bracelets. An odd thing since the rest of your family was completely adorned with anything they could find.
“Queen Rhaenyra.” The king smiles, bowing his head the slightest inch, a fact that has both Aemond and Damon straightening. A slight to Rhaenyra, he was sure. “And her traveling companions. We welcome you.”
Aemond risks another look to you as Verlain extends a hand to help you descend the stairs. He can’t hear anything of what anyone is saying as he watches you, heart thumping through his chest at your every movement.
“-and this is my daughter.” The king mumbles out, his tone tightening at the phrase daughter as you bow gracefully, neck going low as you curtsy need to Rhaenyra then greet the rest of the party in correct order. Before he could say anything you lift the veil and his breath catches.
The oil painting did you no Justice. And within moments he found himself yearning to trace his fingers over your cheek as he had done to the painting to see how the softness would compare.
“And this is my brother, Aemond Targaryen. First of his name, rider of the great Vhagar and-“
“It is an honor.” The king interrupts Rhaenyra, your cheeks tinging with blush as your jaw tightens. You must know your father is being disrespectful then, and at least one of you has the decency to be embarrassed.
“As much as I love flattery,” he begins, not tearing his eyes from you. “I’d prefer if you showed my sister more respect. Last person to disrespect her so had his head sliced through the middle.”
Daemon has the audacity to check his nails for dirt as Rhaenyra sends him a knowing look, his mother tightening her hold on his elbow in approval before moving to you.
“It is an honor to meet you.” She holds out both hands, which you calmly place your own above as you watch her, and Aemond sees the skepticism glint in them. The narrowing of them as your nose scrunches. “Your beauty was surely understated. Don’t you agree Aemond?”
“Indeed. But to be fair I don’t think any painting or letter would ever do you justice.” You don’t say anything, merely bow your head in feigned shyness while the crowned woman behind you speaks up.
“They say she has her mothers complexion.” She giggles loudly, and your spine tightens quickly. “May the child be blessed with the one good thing about her-“
“You’ve had a long journey. I’m sure your hungry and we still some final touches on this alliance. I trust you find my daughter to your liking?” There that tone is again, like he is disgusted to call you his daughter.
“Of course. We accept the marriage proposal, let’s feast and forge out the rest of the details.” Rhaenyra nods, allowing Daemon to help her up the stairs as the king leads them inside.
Aemond is torn between offering his mother his arm or you, desperate to touch you but not wanting to seem like the type to leave his mother.
Lucerys is there, offering his arm and drawing the first actual smile from you, a wave of anger filling Aemond at the sight. “Might I escort you to dinner?”
“You may escort me up the stairs, but unfortunately it would be improper for me to join dinner.” His mother snaps her attention to that, watching you as closely as Aemond already had been while Lucerys leads you up the steps.
They both watch as you look in the opposite direction of where you are walking, keeping your face turned away from one particular spot.
“Is that…. Blood?” His mother gasps, and Aemond can do nothing but stare at the large stain of it, blinking slowly as the sun hits the dial at the top of the staircase.
It was clear that this had been set up as a stage at some point, the message still stained into the earth.
He doesn’t answer his mother, instead he helps her up the steps as he follows the rest of the group.
-
He was angry. It was the only thing he could register, the anger. The rest of it was numb, the blade that took his eye had made sure of it. No love, no happiness, no remorse. He just felt anger.
It burnt through his throat until he had no choice but to scream, tore through his chest like acid as he raged to relieve some of it, his sword swinging at anything he could.
The posts on his bed were the first to have been attacked, the broken canopy it once held brutalized and torn in the corner. The desk was next and he even took a hot poker from the fire to shatter the mirror in one swift move.
Every move was sheer force, every yell was an attempt to ease him, every slam of his fist and kick of his feet an instinct he could not fight.
Where was the justice?
People avoided looking at him now, whispers following him everywhere he went. Females outwardly laughed and gasped at him, acting as if he was a demon that had clawed from the shadows.
“Aemond.” Alicent tries, her hands folded against her dress as she watches her son rage within the walls of his room, feeling useless. He was in pain and there was nothing she could do. “Aemond please.”
“I DONT WANT TO BE HERE! THEY THINK IM A MONSTER!”
“Aemond-“
“KILL ME! KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME!” He rages, picking up the sword once more as she takes a step back, the tears falling from her eyes. She knows he would never, he was forged from steel itself, but the fear consumes her as she calls for Cole. Sobbing.
“Help him.” She pleads, hearing the old dragon roar in the distance as Aemond shatters under the pressure.
“It hurts.” The boy sobs, falling into the glass of his once mirror. “It won’t stop hurting!”
Cole nods, without a word he heaves the boy up, dragging him out and across the glass until they clear the room. His grip is brutal, even Aegon tries to stop them when they pass him in the hall.
“Where are you taking my brother?” He snaps, standing straight, the soberest Aemond has ever seen him.
But Cole doesn’t answer, and when Aemond trips the armor pinches into his skin as he is hefted back up until they make it to the training yard.
“You want to die? Earn it.” Cole snaps, picking up a sword. He doesn’t warn his strike, Aemond barely has a second to dodge as the blade swipes at him, falling to the mud quickly.
The wetness of it seeps into his clothes, staining them as his fingers dig in to crawl to the weapons to defend himself.
He remembers the feel of the earth in that moment, latching on to that anger once more as he stands to fight.
-
You weren’t allowed at the feast, a fact that Aemond finds suspicious as his Uncle moves around the room with his hand on his sword ready for an attack, making eye contact with each servant there. Everyone was on edge, this entire ordeal one that screams trap.
“Might I ask why the bride will not be joining us?” Rhaenyra breaks the silence, fixing herself in the chair given, nodding to the rest of her party to sit as well.
“After the events of her mother…. It’s better if she doesn’t join us.” The king answers, casting a look to Daemon. “She mourns her mother. Taken too soon from an illness.”
The air around them turns pungent, the sign of a lie fallen flat. Lucerys casts him a side look, his thick eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the king raises a glass to toast.
“To the blessed union of our families.” Everyone raises their own glasses before taking a sip, but not Aemond, he sets his glass down and looks around the room some more while the conversation is struggling to be picked back up.
“Those are lovely pearls.” Alicent tries, doing her best to ease some of the tension.
“Oh thank you.” The young queen giggles, leaning forward. “It’s out of fashion out here ever since-“
The king slams his hand upon her own, a bang emanating from the wood. She flinches, but tries to smile through it and Aemond feels a rage fill him as he imagines you having to do the same thing before. Is that why you chose not to eat with them?
“Pearls are…. Out of fashion out here.” Your sister fills in the silence, “the woman at the court tend to avoid them.”
“Speaking of.” Verlain smiles. “I have some things packed and ready to be transported. Gifts from the royal family to yours as a part of the arrangement. To be presented on the wedding day.”
“I just hope there will be room for all of us aboard that ship of yours.” The king smiles, though Aemond sees right through it.
“I can assure you it’s quite big. What a lonely ride it was here, while the others rode dragons. I am looking forward to the company on the way back. I do hope the bride fares well in the sea.”
“I believe my sister to be excited for it.” The pregnant once smiles, the first real smile from this table.
Aemond says nothing, picking up his goblet and draining the liquid in one easy go. Even the wine here tasted shit. Lucerys laughs under his breath when a pig is set on the table and when Aemond turns to glare thinking the jest is to him he finds that the young queen was using her cutlery to check her appearance.
He leans closer, Lucerys following his lead. “I hope that my future bride is not too attached to her family. For if I have to spend a second past the wedding with them I might just-“
Alicent slaps his shoulder quickly, making him sit up as Lucerys snickers. Whether he got to finish his sentence or not the message had been delivered.
-
She spent the last month of her life trapped in a tiny room, with nothing but a bed and a small window barred to keep her in. Her chamber pot was changed once a week and she was allowed one handmaiden.
But she tried not to let it craze her, pouring herself into preparations for the future ahead of her. Everyday followed the same routine.
In the morning she was brought to a chapel within the castle where the minister would pray with her, and every morning he would ask her if she had any sins she’d like to pray forgiveness for. She never did, for she remained adamant that she did nothing wrong. And she could withstand the scalding look the man gave her each time for his opinion did not matter, she knew her truth.
She spent the days seeing, ordering dresses and adjusting them. Day after day. Ordering dress after dress, a small gift her lord husband had allowed her. If she were to die then at least she would die well dressed.
But the dresses weren’t for her, she didn’t pour over every stitch for herself and she didn’t hem each one to perfection for her own vanity, for she knew the second this was over for her that her daughters life would be ruined.
She would prepare as much as she could for her daughter, she was a mother and she would not fail her even in her last moments.
Meanwhile you begged and pleaded for her back, crying into your sisters arms as she held you, rocking you back and forth.
Your father hadn’t come to see you since she was taken, and you weren’t allowed at court, soon enough even your sister was denying visits. Left alone with your handmaiden until the fateful day.
Verlain, one of your fathers men, came to the door and excitement filled you when you saw him. He had always been so kind and often stole sweets for you when no one was looking, but that morning he didn’t smile.
“I thought she might want one more friendly face with her.” He explains to the handmaiden, who has tears in her eyes as she nods. She pulls you away and prepares you, lacing your corset and dressing you in black before taking your hand and leading you through the halls.
“Are we going to see-“
“Shhh. Don’t say a word.” Verlain warns, trying to keep his voice soft. “Not today little lamb.”
You nod, reaching to grab his hand as well as they lead you to the courtyard. You remain in the back, with a good view of the steps, still holding both their hands.
Your mothers group of handmaidens stood to the side of the steps, all looking worried and most with tears falling down while someone hisses at Verlain.
“You brought her kin?!”
“The king demanded she be here.” Verlain answers back, something like grief crossing his face. “To witness.”
And witness you did.
You remember it well, the silent scream that clogged your throat and the way you tried running for her. You had fallen when Verlain pulled you back, your fingers digging into the mud as you tried to crawl to her with all your strength as the blood poured down.
After you had been dragged, kicking and screaming, to your chambers you’d been thrown in by the guards. The first person allowed access to come and see you had been your mothers main handmaiden, one you hadn’t seen at the execution, who you would later learn had reported your mother falsely.
She did not hug you, she did not coddle you. The only thing she asked was “your mothers necklace? Have you any idea where she hid it?”
You told her no, still crying, feeling betrayed.
She left soon after.
A week after that you were forced to kneel before your father as he stripped you of your title and your lineage. “You are her daughter and nothing more. A bastard in the eyes of the faith and the crown.”
You sobbed and begged him not to, crying over and over “papa!”
He screamed at you, slapping you across the cheek so hard you sprawled across the stone.
That night, your last night in the castle, you sat by a singular burning candle as an unknown phantom gently traced the bruise, singing softly to you as you waited for your mother to appear to you.
If there was anyone who would use your gift you were sure it would be her.
But she never came, and you were sent away, and soon the castle was scrubbed of her memory.
-
Your last night there was spent exactly the same as years ago, a fresh bruise adorning your cheek from your fat- his majesty, and you sitting by a candle and waiting for her. Silently pleading for her ghost to appear.
“Come on mother.” You whisper, waiting. “Just one more time before I meet you in the afterlife. Please.”
She does not show, and when the sun begins to rise you are escorted from your rooms down to the docks were your luggage was being loaded.
“Is this all you have?” Lucerys, the name he introduced himself with yesterday, asks and you nod.
“Not much is provided for Basta- for brides to be.” He takes your lie, smiling before you curtsy and allow him to run and catch up with his mother and father.
“I hope you will be okay with entertaining my mother for the journey.” An even voice fills the silence, your heart lunging through your chest as you turn to see the prince. You thought he was gorgeous, desperate to reach a hand out and see what was under the patch.
You refrained of course.
He, however, seemed unable to control himself as he brought a hand up to the bruise on your cheekbone. His fingertips tracing over it ever so lightly.
“How does he have black hair?” You ask, desperate to get the topic away from your cheek before it can even start.
“It’s…. A long story.” He huffs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Might I escort you to your chambers on the boat.”
He holds out a hand for you to take, and for a moment a pitch of fear fills you. Don’t look don’t look don’t look.
But you can’t stop yourself from turning to those steps, and seeing the blood among them for the last time. Once you’re gone that’s all that will be left of her memory, and that tears a hole through your soul.
She shouldn’t have to be alone here, but you were sure that you would find her soon enough, there was no way you would ever survive the Targaryens. It was the only reason your father would ever bother to accept this at all.
So, ignoring the white haired god beside you, you turn fully to the steps and bow properly. “Until we meet again.”
Your tears sink into the dirt, in the exact spot you once crawled, and when a breeze hits your cheek you can do nothing but lift your head to see her. Standing at the top of the steps, bowing back to you.
Tears fall quicker, and your throat stings from it as you turn to grab the princes still outstretched hand, and as the last remnants of the second queen fade the last memory of her is lead away to the docks, clutching the lost necklace tightly in the pocket of a dress she once sewed.
And you know, that just as your mother once did, you would meet your fate with your head held high.
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. They cannot break me.
But you hadn’t quite known what Kings Landing had in store for you, no one had expected it really.
(It's been a minute since I wrote something like this and this is the first time in months that writing hadn't felt like a chore. I hope you enjoy it!)
Part 2.... maybe?
#aemond hotd#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen possessive#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen is back#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon angst#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon imagines#house of the dragon
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Forever and always... or maybe Never (Alternate Ending #1)
Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Hanahaki disease!AU
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.
Summary: Some say that you can not die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen, begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity. Will Aemond have enough time to save you, or do you have to save yourself?
TW: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints and mentions of infidelity, mild mature scene, angst, I think that's all of them??
(A/N: Hello, I meant to post this a while ago, but I was struggling to get it to turn out the way I wanted. Even now I'm not sure if I 100% love it. Nevertheless, I give you one out of two of the alternate endings. It may seem similar in the beginning, but small details have changed in the first half, and then the second half is completely new! I would like to state that in no way, shape, or form do I think forgetting things heals wounds. With saying that, the reader does forgo her love for Aemond in attempt to save herself, but in a different way. A way that still keeps Aemond in the loop but makes him suffer. I hope you all like this better than I do. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs, I truly love to see them! Anyways, enjoy!)
Word Count: 3,435
Taglist: @libdarkheart (It's been a hot minute so I wasn't sure who else wanted a tag for the alternate endings)
Your love for Aemond hadn’t always been unrequited. At least you’d like to think it wasn’t. Both of you had grown together in the red keep as children. The two of you read together, ate together, and overall grew together. Aemond was your best friend before he was your betrothed. Whenever his mother was busy, it was your side that he clung to. The two of you were so attached at the hip that Alicent even took you to driftmark with them. You and the beast that came with you of course. No one really knows how you stumbled upon a hyena pup, nor how you tamed it to your side as a child. Nevertheless, they never forbid you from having it. If the Targaryens could have their dragons, and the Starks their dire wolves, then certainly you could have the tricky little beast that you insisted on calling Lark. In some ways, Alicent was thankful that you insisted on keeping it. After all, it was your hyena that stood between Aemond and the other children on that fateful night in driftmark. The beast had acted as your legs and ran faster than you could to reach the devastating brawl before you. Despite Aemond’s wails of pain, Lark refused to let the guards come too close. Only when you arrived did she move aside. Regardless of being young, that was the first night you realized your feelings for Aemond Targaryen. The very sight of him bleeding and broken struck you so deeply that you felt as if you had been maimed too. Alicent had noticed the change as well as she watched you stand by her son's side whilst he received stitches. Her dark eyes gazed deeply at how tightly you held Aemond’s hand, as if he would disappear. Aside from her, no one had ever loved her son this passionately, not even his own father.
“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.
“ Was the blade of your son’s knife not enough sharpness for the night?” All eyes turned to you in surprise. You had never been known to speak out if it did not benefit you. Most of the time you were seen standing to the side, watching while others tore each other apart. Aemond could always see past it, see your true intentions. He knew you were studying how different people fought and where their weak points were. You had been around the red keep long enough to know that Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra’s soft spot, and tonight you planned to use that against her.
“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything.
“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond.
“ You dar-”
“ Enough! My son has lost an eye and now you insist on arguing with a young girl?” Alicent moved up next to you, a hand on your back in support. She knew how terrifying it was to stand alone in a room full of adults scrutinizing you. That’s how her wedding felt after all. The queen’s hand never wavered through the interrogation of the green children. You held Aemond’s hand and she held you. Until things escalated that was. When the queen rushed towards Rhaenyra you stepped in front of Aemond. Shielding him from the sight of his mother in the midst of such violence. All Aemond could see in the midst of chaos was you, and all you could see was the river of blood on Rhaenyra’s arm. Little did you know how familiar you would be with crimson rivers in due time.
It was shortly after that night when your betrothal to the second son was announced. Alicent assured that it was needed to form an alliance between your family and theirs, when in reality it was a match made to ease the worried queen’s heart. In her eyes, no one else was a better match for Aemond than you, and for the longest time, you believed her. Oh, how foolish you were.
Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love.
“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder. He set the lilacs he had brought with him beside you on the bench.
“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.
“ Then I fear I must inspect it. Wouldn’t want my future wife to be keeping secrets from me.” You recognized the playful jest in Aemond’s voice and wasted no time in rushing up from the bench.
“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind.
“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book.
“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck.
“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!”
“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught.
" Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually. Aemond had let you down so that you could turn to face him.
The two of you were married when he was seventeen and you were sixteen. Your union was repeated twice over. Once in front of a sept full of people, and then in the tradition of old valyria. Aemond wanted reassurance that you would never part from him. Your marriage fueled two more years full of what was now mature love.
The edge of your teeth pulled at the pillow of your bottom lip as you stared at the dark oak door. The sound of jeering men swarmed your thoughts and threatened the bile at the back of your throat. You tried to hide your discomfort for Aemonds sake, but he was keen to your reactions by now.
“ Do not fret, my love, I will not let them hear your noises. I would never let them hear what is only meant for me and you.” Aemond spoke lowly, using your hips to turn you towards him and away from the door.
“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”
“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it.
“Aem-” You sighed contently.
“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.
“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck.
“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you. Starting small with the way you love lilacs and stretching all the way to how you separate the food on your plate. I would never forget anything about you, my love” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did.
You never would’ve thought that you could fall deeper in love with Aemond Targaryen after that night, but nine months later proved you wrong. The sight of him by your side as you delivered your son set permanent hearts in your eyes. He had not cared for the blood or screams, only you and the babe. The babe who he later named Aemys because it was as close as he could get to amethyst, your favorite color. Every little detail of the things he did revolves around you. That’s what fueled your denial the first time you coughed up blood.
Your eyes stared hard at the bloody petal laying in your palm. Had that come from you? You had read strange tales of those who bled flowers, but you believed it only to be fiction. Surly your blood would not change at the ripe age of ten and nine.
“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you.
“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you.
“ Blooming blood blooms a burial.” This time Helaena was focused on you as she spoke. Her eyes filled with unknown sorrow. You left Aemys to play with his cousins as you rushed to the library. No one else was there to question your sanity as you pulled book after book from the shelf to find the old dornish fables that lay hidden among them.
“Hanahaki..”Every word, every page, and every definition seemed to tear you apart further as you read. No other condition led to flowery bile except for this one. Aemond loved you though. How could this be possible?
Your thoughts would be answered two morrows later when Aemond returned from his siege of Harrenhal. Everyone had expected to see him arrive on dragon back alone, certainly not with a strong bastard. A gorgeous strong bastard at that. You felt your chest tighten as you gazed upon her dark flowy locks and enchanting eyes. Oh by the seven, how could you spite him for loving someone like her? If circumstances were different, then perhaps you too would fall under her spell. It wasn’t until you saw the way she clung to Aemond’s arm that the coughing fit started. This had to be it. What else could it be? Aemond hated physical contact with strangers, yet he let a previously unknown wetnurse cling to him like a paramour. The harder you thought about it, the harder you coughed. The fit only resulted in a petal or two, but in time that would grow. The longer Alys rivers stayed, the worse you got. Both you and the universe could feel Aemond straying from you, even if he spoke differently.
“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner.
“ You do not see the things I see, Aemond. The way you defend her, encourage her, look at her…all in the way you used to look at me-” It took effort to fight down the sickness as you fought. It had been months, but you made no move to tell Aemond, you couldn’t.
“ I do not love her as I love you-”
“ Yes, but you love her!” You cried in outrage, gripping the wall near you for support. Everything became so out of focus as you spoke the words. It was the first time you had ever admitted it to yourself. The dew of brick cooled your skin as you leaned against the wall. Your body trembled with deep echoey coughs as petals tore their way up your throat.
“ I did not mean to make you sick, dear wife” Aemond spoke softly and simply. Wife. He had never called you that before, not even on your wedding night. It was always my love or Ñuha prūmia. How ironic for him to call you his heart when sooner or later he would be the reason yours cease to beat.
“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.”
“ As you wish.” Aemond’s bow before he left was the final straw to crack your heart open. Why must he be so formal when you stand dying a few feet away? How can he not see how badly you suffer? Were the shadows beneath your eyes, or the crack of your lips not big enough clues for him? Would you need to be dead for him to finally understand?
Thankfully, the universe wouldn’t let you go that easily. Nor would it let Aemond leave your mind. You had tried it all, from no longer dining with him to pretending he no longer existed. However, it seemed that for every step you took away from him, he took one closer to you. Perhaps it was stupid to think that you could attempt to forgo your love for him in the first place.
“ ābrazȳrys. Ābra-” Aemond’s voice broke you from your thoughts. Bringing you back to chilled window of the library where you sat. Not that the chill affected your ailing body any.
“ How late has it gotten?” Bleariness dripped from your eyes and onto the pages of Aegon I’s story as you came to reality once more.
“ It’s nearly dusk” Aemond chuckled, “ How has the conquerors story gotten you so entranced when you’ve read it nearly a thousand times before?”
“ It’s practically a new story when you read it from a different perspective. I use to only ever understand it from Rhaenys’s point of view, but now-” You swallowed hard, not caring to finish your sentence.
“ ..but now? Whose eyes do you read through this time?” Aemond prompted, reaching to brush a stray hair from your forehead. You flinched away from the comfort, disgusted by the possibility of where those hands had been. If Aemond noticed the reaction then he did not comment on it. Perhaps out of fear that it would start an argument.
You looked back out the window, “ Visenya's. Though I suppose she didn't have as many qualms with her lifestyle as I do.”
Aemond stiffened, “ I don’t see how you would relate to Visenya. Perhaps your bravery is similar-”
“ Visenya was Aegon’s first wife. She bore him a son and then his attention was mainly focused on Rhaenys. For every night he spent with Visenya, he spent ten with Rhaenys” You turned to direct your eyes to his, “ I relate to Visenya in almost every aspect now.”
" I'm not sure I know what you're implying, dear wife" Aemond's eyes narrowed. You hummed in disbelief, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Perhaps you were tired of keeping quite about his affairs.
" You should know. After all you are the Aegon in my story and your dear Alys is Rhaenys" There was no venom in your voice, why would there be? You had long since come to terms with the fact that spite wouldn't cure you.
" That's what your upset over?"
"I am not upset, Aemond. I am in fact long past being upset." You shrugged, " Turbulent emotions will never heal the damage you caused, so why would I waste my time on them?"
" Damage? I have done nothing but love you?! Have you forgotten all of our escapades from the last two months? The library, the council room, the gard-" Aemond's words quickly died when he saw how you recoiled with each place. Realization crashed into his like an icy tidal wave. It was never you. This whole time, he had been making love to Alys and not you.
You had to fight to keep your steely composure and not wretch all over the library floor, " Do I mean so little to you, that you can not even tell whether or not I'm the one you're holding?"
Aemond paled, "Witchcraft. She had to of put a spell on me. I would never-"
Aemond caught your arm when you moved to walk around him, but you refused to hear his excuses," It no longer matters. Your realization has come too late."
" Too late? You talk as if you've asked the king for an annulment"
You let out a hearty laugh, one that might've made Aemond think you were crazy, "Annulment would've been merciful. Anything besides the path I've chosen would've been merciful."
" What are you talking about? What have you done?" Aemond inquired.
" What have I done?!" Your body tremored with laughter, " Perhaps you should ask yourself that question. Better yet ask yourself that question when your tongue is down Aly-"
Aemond watched in horror as your mocking laughter turned into a coughing fit. One that resulted in the bloody flowers that haunted your every waking moment. Aemond's trembling hands latched onto your arms quickly as you began to sway. It wasn't until Aemond pressed his lips to your chilled forehead that the petals ceased. His affection was a momentary bliss that swept the chronic darkness back under the rug in your mind, but moments don't last forever.
Aemond pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you."
"You're the reason I'm like this." You scoffed, still resting against him.
" Then let me fix my mistakes-"
" You can not love someone back to life, Aemond. I will fix this myself." Your tone held no malice towards him, rather exhaustion. The last wave of sickness had taken quite a bit from you. Nevertheless, you were strong and independent. You needed to prove to Aemond that you did not need him to save you.
" I shall retire to my personal chambers tonight. Fair well, dear husband." Hearing you say 'husband' rather than ñuha zaldrīzes, My dragon, felt like a hot lashing to Aemond. Even when the two of you fought he was always 'your dragon', but perhaps this was your way of punishing him.
" Fair well, Ñuha prūmia" My Heart, and boy oh boy did your heart stutter upon hearing that again. Regardless of the feeling in your chest you kept walking until you were out of the room. Leaving Aemond to stand in the mess of your blood. In another life that would've been the last time Aemond saw you, but something had changed.
Aemond realized weeks later that it wasn't something that had changed, rather someone, and that someone was you. Your smile had begun to come back, as had your laughter and spirit. If only he knew how many sleepless nights and burning tears you had to fight through to get those things back. Part of Aemond held hope for a moment that he had a helping hand in it. Oh how asinine he was. He should've realized that you only begun to improve after avoiding him. That your eyes would never meet his. Not even now as the two of you occupied the gardens alongside Aemys and the ever dutiful Lark. Aemond had seen the hyena in the shadows quite a bit lately, watching his every move. Almost as if the beast was your eyes.
Your giggle caught him off guard as Lark took a bundle of grapes from your hand and dropped them into Aemys's little lap, "Lark, you traitor! I knew you first!"
~ " Traitor." You had grumbled with a hidden smile as the Hyena trotted over to the pair of you casually. Aemond had let you down so that you could turn to face him.~
Aemond now wishes he would've held you a bit longer, a bit tighter, but we don't all get what we wish for. He knows that you most certainly didn't, and he is the one to blame for that.
" You said the same thing to her all those years ago when she chose me over you" Aemond chuckled, moving to crouch beside you.
You looked to him with genuine confusion clouding your eyes, " I don't remember that?"
"What?" Aemond felt his world stop for a moment.
" I only remember you telling me that you must inspect my journal to be sure that your future wife wasn't hiding any secrets" Your eyes had never held anything other than love for Aemond, but now he couldn't detect anything other than curiosity and confusion.
" Alright...how about our wedding night? What do you remember of that?"
You tilted your head in thought before speaking, " We performed our duty, I know that much."
Aemond felt his throat close up. You had done the exact same thing his mother had done when she dealt with Hanahaki's. Willingly letting go of any memory that pertained his love for you as a way to ease your symptoms. There could be no unrequited love if you didn't remember why you loved him in the first place. In your eyes your friendship had ended long ago and been replaced by a political marriage.
" My love.."
"Hmm?" You peered up at him with a newfound clarity that he couldn't bring himself to destroy. Aemond knew he would have to fight to get things back to the way they used to be. Aemond would have to earn your love and affection. Honestly, it was the least he could do after how he took it for granted mere weeks ago. The journey from friends to lover would have to be rebuilt, and Aemond was willing to do whatever he needed to. He would start in the only way he knew how.
" Would you like to see the lilacs?"
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen angst#aemond x reader#hotd#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon#house of the dragon angst#angst
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#matt smith#daemon targeryan#hotd daemon#daemon targeryen x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen x female reader#daemon x reader#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#daemon targaryen x you#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon headcannons#house of dragons#house of the dragon angst#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon#house targaryen#hotd x reader#hotdedit#hotd fanfic#hotd fandom#hotd#game ofthrones fandom#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones#game of thrones imagine
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