#rhaenys lived au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

libraryoffandomsuniverse · 4 months

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Being Rhaenyra Targaryen's husband would include:

Masterlist

Okay this is my 3rd time uploading this, because tumblr was being a whiny bitch. This turned out much longer than I expected and I'm already planning on writing more in this au. I combined book and show canon, although I kept the Velaryons as black. I also renamed some of Rhaenyra's children and gave her 1 more.

This is not team green friendly or kind to Alicent. At all. Reader is a petty bitch who adores his wife and whose love language is murdering their enemies in various secret ways.

Warnings include murder, forced infertility (Viserys), Rhaenyra and Reader scheming for the throne.

You're the oldest son of Rhaenys Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon. Greatness is in your blood.

You're proud - how can you not be? You're the oldest son of the Sea Snake and The Queen Who Never Was, the heir to High Tide and the next Lord of Driftmark. You're the second rider of Silverwing, after Queen Alysanne. You are cunning and clever - everything your parents could wish for in a son. You have a lot to be proud of.

After fighting in the Stepstones and being knighted, you emerge as one of the chief candidates for Rhaenyra's hand.

The brothel incident still happens in this au and Rhaenyra still sleeps with Criston.

When your betrothal is announced, you both agree to do your duty. And although you aren't Daemon or Criston, you are still handsome and a warrior. Doing her duty will not be difficult for Rhaenyra.

You quickly fall in love, much to both your surprise. Rhaenyra falls first, your loyalty and ferocity in defending her sneaks past her defences.

You fall harder, her wit and hidden darkness, the type that matches yours, pulls you in. Her soul speaks to yours and feels familiar on some level.

By the time Jacaerys is born, you're incredibly happy and in love with each other.

Your darling boy is quickly followed by Lucerys, Baelon, Aegon, Gaemon and eventually (after a few years) your twin daughters Visenya and Aemma.

Your royal apartments are rarely quiet because of your children. They adore their mother's hugs, love to hang off your shoulders and follow you both around the Red Keep like little ducklings.

Being the best dressed couple in Westeros. Rhaenyra likes it when you match and often coordinates your outfits to do so. Sometimes it's matching her dress to your doublet, other times it's more subtle like you wearing ruby beads in your locs to match the precious stones in her bodice. It makes her feel like you're on a team and she knows you feel the same way, judging from the little smirk and raised eyebrow you give her when you see her and the maids going through your wardrobes.

You and Rhaenyra love to gossip together. It mainly happens in bed after you make love. She tells you the latest rumours her ladies in waiting told her and you reveal the scandals you heard from your manservant and squires.

You encourage her to be more visible to the common folk. You know that if she has their love, then any attempts to usurp her will fail. Your little family becomes regular fixtures in King's Landing as you explore the city and restart Queen Alysanne's charitable ventures. Rhaenyra starts heading sessions for women to raise any issues.

You know it's working when you hear people talking about the Realm's Delight and the Sea Dragon and praising your efforts in improving their lives.

The sight of you both racing your dragons high in the sky is a frequent occurrence. It started as a way to unwind after the small council meetings. As your family grew, your children joined in, strapped into yours or Rhaenyra's saddles. When they grew old enough and their dragons were big enough, they followed you on theirs.

Dividing your time between Dragonstone and the Red Keep, although visits to Driftmark are also regular events.

Laenor frequently pops in to visit and spoil your children.

Corlys and Viserys both compete to be the favourite grandparent, but you and Rhaenyra know that Rhaenys is the real favourite. For the sake of peace, you won't reveal it.

Despite Daemon and Laena staying in Pentos, you keep up a regular correspondence with them. You even arrange to meet in Driftmark with your children a few years into your marriage. Your children bond quickly, while the adults watch on and tell stories.

Being married to the heir to the Iron Throne isn't easy and there are many people who would see that Rhaenyra never becomes Queen.

As her consort, you consider it your duty to make the path easier for her.

Your first victim is Criston Cole. After murdering Joffrey Lonmouth, you expect him to get punished. The news of Queen Alicent accepting him as her sworn sword leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, particularly when you have to break the news to Laenor.

Along with your pride, one of your greatest attributes is how protective you are of your loved ones. Joffrey was Laenor's lover as well as one of your good friends.

It takes a little while to plan, but one day gossip erupts about Criston being found drunk in a brothel that's particularly debauched, even by the standards of King's Landing.

You seize your chance and tell your goodfather that perception is important, that such a knight like that cannot be allowed to guard the royal family, especially the Queen. Viserys ignores Alicent's protests and Criston is gelded and sent to the Wall.

Speaking of Viserys, you know that any sons he has will be pitted against your wife.

You also know that his health isn't very good.

You decide to help him by giving him a tonic that your mother swears by, along with some lotions and creams. "Two drops of this with your morning meal every day and you'll soon feel better, Your Grace," you persuade him. "And wouldn't it be wonderful if you could meet your future grandchildren?"

Your father told you once you could sell water to a fish, such was the power of your silver tongue.

Viserys' health does improve after taking the tonic and the lotions that are massaged into his skin fix most of his pains.

However you failed to mention that the tonic and lotion both have herbs which cause infertility if used over long periods of time. Your mother only uses the tonic, and does so sparingly.

Viserys and Alicent only have Aegon and Helaena as a result of your actions.

You and Rhaenyra work hard to charm lords and ladies to support your cause.

You go on progress across the realm, flattering and courting all the noble families you meet.

It quickly becomes known that to be one of Princess Rhaenyra's ladies in waiting is a boon for attaining a fortunate marriage. In turn, you surround yourself with ambitious lords and their sons who want to advance their own interests.

It's a delicate dance, but you were taught how to make alliances by your parents, plus your charisma and ability to speak to anyone makes you one of the most popular members of the royal family.

Any attempts Alicent makes to gain allies for her son are countered by you and she can't stand you.

She tried to make Rhaenyra bring Lucerys to her when he was born, but you shut that down. "I wasn't aware that the Queen was in such poor health that she couldn't come herself to meet the newest member of our family," you say with a mocking smile. "The King is already coming to meet his grandson and I'm sure he would wish for Her Grace to join him." The sour look on the Queen's face when she finally arrives, only to find Viserys holding your baby boy, is a sight you'll remember for weeks to come.

You're Rhaenyra's greatest weapon and she despises how popular you are. You weren't supposed to be this politically adept, your children weren't supposed to be that lovely and polite and Rhaenyra was not supposed to be the heir when Viserys already has a son.

She says so to Larys Strong, who decides to do something about it without telling her.

You survive the pathetic assassination attempt because of a loyal servant.

Rhaenyra finds out what happened and she is furious. When she finds out Larys did it? He's a dead man walking.

His body is found in a secluded corridor at the bottom of the stairs. It's fairly obvious that he slipped and fell in a tragic accident - the servants had only finished cleaning and polishing those stairs the day before.

You thank your wife for avenging you with a sapphire necklace and several rounds of insatiable sex that eventually results in your son Aegon being conceived.

Unfortunately Lyonel Strong takes this as his chance to resign as Hand and return to Harrenhall, something you and your wife are unhappy about. You will miss him and his unwavering loyalty and fairness.

You miss him even more when you find out Otto Hightower is returning to King's Landing to be Viserys' Hand again.

The return of her father emboldens the Queen, although you and Rhaenyra are more than a match for them, both during the Small Council meetings (which you are Master of Ships) and outside them.

Eventually though, you decide to take care of the problem, although your wife cautions you to be careful.

A year after becoming Hand again, Otto Hightower is dead. His health had been declining for some time, even before he returned to King's Landing, but the poison you'd had your spies slip into his furniture and clothing certainly made his end quicker.

You knew he had a food taster, so you had to be careful to make it appear natural. A quiet conversation with Daemon had pointed you in the right direction.

Although it appeared to be natural, you knew that Otto's last days were a living hell. A fitting end for such a man.

With his death, you recommended Viserys make Lyonel Strong Hand again or even name Rhaenyra to be the Hand, as preparation for her future role.

His decision to name Rhaenyra as Hand is one of the only good decisions he's made.

It gives her more experience in governing the realm, particularly when he starts to become more frail.

After several years of this, she is confident in her role. She will be a magnificent Queen and you're truly honoured to be her consort.

#not team green friendly #male reader imagines #black reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd imagines #rhaenyra targaryen imagines #my writing

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huramuna · 5 months

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wine red, tears gold - chapter 1.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 4.6k

aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.

this is for my 100 followers poll. it was supposed to be a oneshot but will be a mini series in 3 or 4 parts. this is my first time writing aegon and it will also be somewhat of a character study.

thank you for 100 followers and everyone who participated in the poll. love <3 thank you @randomdragonfires for beta reading, mwah mwah.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn

its been so long - the living tombstone • nobody - mitski

chapter specific warnings: awkward sex, p in v, virginity loss

Every day felt like a new restraint, a new button added to the collar choking around Aegon’s neck. He had done it– he had freed the realm of the false queen, his half-sister– and lost almost everything to do so. When did it end? When did he get to relax and run the realm as he saw fit, since they so intended to have them at the helm. He wore the conqueror’s crown, wielded his sword and bore his name and yet he couldn’t do as the conqueror actually did. Rule. He felt more like a dog than a dragon these days; but that was just a pattern in his life. They wanted him when they needed him and he was to shoulder their burdens as eldest son.

His grandsire kept breathing down his neck to secure another wife, another heir, another alliance brokered with another pompous house.

“Listen to me, Aegon,” Otto began, his fingers laced together as he sat at his desk. He had summoned Aegon to the Tower of the Hand– he was summoning the King, rather than the King summoning him. Somehow, his council had let Otto weasel his way back into the position of Hand, Aegon’s mother in tears, pleading for it. There wasn’t anyone else fit for the job since Criston had died– and he was never really fit for it anyhow. “We must move quickly to provide you with a new wife. The realm won’t remain stable if we tarry in producing an heir for the throne.”

Aegon sat in the seat across from him, feeling more like a child than a King. He twisted the signet ring on his pinky finger. “It’s too soon. It would be an insult to Helaena.” he replied, not looking up at Otto. Helaena had only passed a few moons earlier and the wound was still fresh for all of them. Aegon never loved her like a wife– how could he, they were too different, too young– but he cared deeply for her as his sister and the mother of his children. Even thinking about taking another wife this soon felt like a betrayal. He would be like his father then.

A small huff and a rustling of papers was heard– Aegon was still too distracted by his signet ring, the thin light filtering through the half drawn blinds, causing a small glint off of the bronzed metal. He didn’t want to look up to see the expression on his grandsire’s face, he knew it was one of disappointment. Aegon couldn’t remember the last time that someone hadn’t looked at him with contempt, disappointment, melancholy.

“You must understand. You have a duty to the realm–”

“Fucking duty– don’t speak to me of it. I’ve done my duty for enough lifetimes. I let you put me on the throne and usurp my sister and look where that’s gotten us? Everyone is fucking dead, Otto. Jaehaerys, Maelor, Helaena, Aemond,” he paused for a moment, lifting his head up to meet the Hand’s gaze head on, “Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey– do I need to proceed? The majority of our bloodline is wiped out because of you and your ambition.”

Otto snorted, standing up from his desk slowly. He grabbed a decanter of wine, pouring them both a goblet. “You misunderstand. Everything I’ve done has been… for our family’s legacy– for the realm,” he placed the glass stopped back into the carafe, “Don’t you dare act as if I am not hurting for the loss of family– but war is war, boy. People die. It is unfortunate that… the ones close to us did. But we can’t live with our head in the clouds any longer, there is a realm to run and the crown comes with responsibilities. A wife and heir are one of those paramount responsibilities.”

“I have an heir. I still have one remaining child– Jaehaera is my heir. I deem it.” he spoke quickly, staring at the goblet of wine. He had reduced his intake of alcohol since the war ended– but the need for it was always there, always aching. He suddenly felt parched. Giving Otto a haughty stare, he took a sip from the glass, feeling his muscles instantly relax.

“Don’t be daft– have you so quickly forgotten what happened when the King last named a female heir?”

“It wasn’t that Rhaenyra was a woman, Otto. People would’ve learned to adjust if…” Aegon took another sip, clearing his throat, “If she hadn’t been infatuated with her freak of an uncle, you would’ve been able to control her easier, hm? It's always been you and mother behind the crown these past two decades– not me, nor my father.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Otto griped back, gripping his glass, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about. Rhaenyra–” he stopped, taking a breath, “Rhaenyra is dead. They’re all dead, you’re right. But there is still the whole of the Seven Kingdoms requiring a leader, especially now. A leader with a united front with a queen and babe. I won’t argue further on this matter.”

Aegon acquiesced. He would rather deal with Otto’s venomous viper tongue talking him into things he didn’t want to do now instead of his mother visiting him hours later in hysterics– he couldn’t bear it. Alicent was more of a mess now than ever. “Fine. I leave this in your very capable hands,” he stood up, swiping the whole jug of wine, “At least find me a pretty one.”

–

She was plain, unbelievably plain. Long, curled brown hair desperately in need of a trim, a poorly tailored dress that needed to be more fitted at the waist, stature too small and unremarkable to stand up to anyone of importance. Oh, and picked cuticles, the spots of red eking out from her nail beds. Mayhaps she and his mother would get along just jolly, then. She was to be his prospective wife and bear him more heirs. He wanted to shove it back in the council’s face and say he has an heir, his only living child, Jaehaera. Melancholy and withdrawn as she was, she was his heir.

The council disagreed, allowing Borros Baratheon to shove his last unwed daughter at him like a piece of meat that no one wanted.

Her eyes wafted up to glance at him, every move of hers uncertain, cautious. She was so deathly aware of each minute gesture, her posture having to be adjusted to straighten every few minutes.

Lyanna Baratheon wasn’t of prominent knowledge and reputation like her sisters, aptly named ‘the Four Storms’ – she didn’t remind Aegon at all of a stag or a doe, but rather something more diminutive and easily killed, like a prey animal. Mayhaps a rabbit– it would be an apt description, as she had giant eyes, brown –almost black– in their hue, a shiny glaze over them as she stared at the ground. Every so often, their eyes would meet, brown to violet, and she would look apt as Aegon thought she was.

A rabbit begging for its life.

Borros Baratheon stood beside her, murmuring something into her ear. He was a boorish oaf of a man who couldn’t even read– Aegon wasn’t the brightest star in the sky when it came to matters of literature, that’d always been his brother’s realm, but atleast he could fucking read. He thought it quite hysterical that his house sigil was that of a Stag when Lord Borros reminded him more of a boar. Mayhaps he should change it.

As he continued to whisper to his daughter, her expression went from sordid to panicked, then back to sordid. She wasn’t very good at masking her emotions– she would need to learn if she were to survive at the Keep. The tips of her fingers twitched slightly and she was obviously holding herself back from tearing into her nail beds.

“Lord Borros,” Aegon broke the tension, “Perhaps I should show your daughter around the gardens while you speak with my grandsire. We have the most beautiful gardens here and I’d imagine that Storm’s End wouldn’t have something quite as grand,” he glazed over Borros’ blank stare, “due to the storms, of course.”

Lord Baratheon adjusted his doublet, which was far too small for him— did the Stormlands not have a proper fucking tailor? — and nodded, “Yes, that would be amicable. It would do some good to familiarize yourself with one another before the wedding in a week’s time.”

Aegon’s throat felt parched. He knew that they were speeding things along but he didn’t anticipate it to be this fast. Grabbing a bottle of wine from a nearby servant, he descended back to Lyanna, intent on whisking her away as quickly as possible. Not because he found her particularly interesting, rather the opposite, but he needed an excuse to get out of the room. The insistent thrum of his pulse in his neck was all too loud. His arm looped under Lyanna’s, “Come, my lady,” he hummed, trying to seem like he was somewhat collected and kingly and not on the edge of chugging the entire carafe of wine and smashing it over the next poor fucker’s head. “To the gardens.”

He practically strung along the poor girl, who hurriedly agreed and tried her best to keep up. “Y-yes, your grace,” she mewled, her feet tapping on the ground at irregular rhythms as she hung onto Aegon’s arm, bouncing against the stone walkway toward the gardens, “King’s Landing is… very beautiful, my king– your subject must be very pleased.”

As they descended the cobbled steps down to the garden, Aegon eyed her warily, “Did your father tell you to say that?”

“N-no, not exactly–”

“He did. Anyone with half of a brain and a working nose knows that this accursed city smells of shit. You shouldn’t lie, my lady. You’re quite bad at it,” he took a small breath as he looked at her expression– the poor thing was on the verge of tears. “You will get better in time,” he continued with a slightly softer tone, “This Keep is full of great liars and you don’t seem… too much like your father. I am sure you will pick up quickly. How old are you?”

“Nineteen, your grace.”

Aegon resisted giving a derisive snort, instead uncorking the wine bottle and tossing the stopper into the grass, “You’re quite young, then,” he took a swig, feeling the bitter tasting liquid coat his mouth, “All the better for heirs. Or so I’m sure that we’ve both been told.”

In truth, some would consider her a bit late in age to be married– but Aegon didn’t care as long as he wasn’t robbing the cradle like his father did to his mother, or Daemon to Rhaenyra. He was twenty-six himself and tried to remember what he was like when he was nineteen; he couldn’t exactly pinpoint an exact memory. It was mostly a blur.

“I am… hopeful to provide you with many healthy heirs, my king,” she replied, her words sounding rehearsed. She is as poor of an actress as she is a liar, then. She paused for a moment, looking at her hands, “I… do not wish to replace the late queen, her grace, Helaena– I merely wish to fulfill my duty to the realm and my family– I am terribly… sorry to hear about Helaena, my king. As well as your prince brothers. War is a terrible thing.”

Aegon blinked profusely a few times. Her words after her pause sounded genuine– mayhaps she is capable of thinking for herself. She seemed… softhearted, even if a bit naive. He regarded the bottle in his hand for a moment, swishing it around. No one had really apologized to him for his losses– the enumerable amount of them he’s gone through these past few years. They all bowed their heads and wouldn’t meet his gaze, as if their blood was all on his hands. Mayhaps it was. He swallowed, his mouth pursed in a thin line, “... War is indeed a terrible thing, my lady.”

They walked for a few hours around the garden, talking about various things. Aegon still found her quite boring and uninteresting to look at– she wasn’t ugly by any means, and could be considered pretty, but she was just so terribly plain that it bored him to tears. Her speech was all faux and he tried to eek out any genuineness to her words through different subjects– all to no avail. It seemed the sore subject of Aegon’s family was the only thing to break her from her carefully crafted script.

Eventually, they parted ways– for the better, he thought. She was a fine match, a fine age, a fine vessel for his seed to produce a royal heir and whatever other innocuous thing his grandsire needed from him.

What a terribly dreadful life he’s let himself sink into.

That night, he drained two bottles of Dornish Red, falling much into the same state of mind he had when he was nineteen. Wandering to the Street of Silk, he whored and drank himself into a state of sloven mania.

In the midst of his drunken ramblings, he wondered if he could ever find someone who would truly love him or if his opportunity had already passed.

–

The wedding followed in the timeline that Borros and Otto had set– as quickly as possible. The council dipped into the coffers to make it happen, it was to be an extravagant event, a new beginning for the realm. Artisans, fine bakers and cooks were all hired to make the wedding a facet, stringing up red, green, yellow and black banners, making dozens of delicate pastries and even cooking six turduckens to line the tables.

It was all lavish and opulent– and Lyanna could not feel more out of place. The past week at the Keep had been a whirlwind of planning, gown fittings, flower picking. Her sisters were there in attendance, speaking up more than she on what to pick. It was fine with her, as she couldn’t bring herself to care for it. The gaudiness of it all made her feel ill.

She had only met with Aegon the one time, the first time. Lyanna felt she made a terrible impression— she was so nervous that day that she’d vomited twice that morning, all while her father screamed at her to get it right, to say exactly as he told her to. For the most part, she had done just that— played the perfect little puppet for him and said all those empty words that meant nothing.

She was meant to see Aegon at least three more times before the wedding, as there were a few dinners arranged between their two families. He had been absent for all, his mother citing that he was unable to attend for various reasons but nothing overtly specific.

Alicent Hightower was a nice lady— she was warm to Lyanna, talking to her at the dinners when no one else had bothered. She was the person who Lyanna felt most comfortable with in the Keep and was grateful that she was to be her good-mother. Alicent was a bit frayed at the ends from the loss of her other children; she was haunted, her eyes constantly red-rimmed and murmuring prayers under her breath.

The morning of the wedding, Lyanna was summoned to Alicent’s solar to get ready.

She knocked on the door, “Your grace— it’s Lyanna.”

“Come in, my dear,” she called out, a maid opening the door to let her in. “How are you feeling this morn?” Alicent was perched on the settee when Lyanna came in, and immediately rushed over to her, taking the young girl’s hands in hers.

“Quite nervous,” Lyanna responded, her hands quivering ever so slightly, even under the warm touch of Alicent. “May I speak plainly, your grace?”

“Of course,” she ushered Lyanna to the loveseat and had the maid pour them both tea, then promptly shooed her out. “It’s just us now, speak your mind, sweetling.”

“I-I am afraid that… Aegon will not like me. I fear I didn’t make a good first impression— he seemed quite bored of me.”

Alicent took a sip of her tea, giving a small sigh. “I will do you the favor of not sugarcoating words and speak plainly like you have done with me. Aegon will not like you,” she pursed her lips into a thin line, twisting the signet ring on her finger, “Aegon is a creature of debauchery and sin— and you are a good, pious girl. You are like oil and water.” her brown eyes met Lyanna’s, her expression softening. The two women had a fast camaraderie, praying together each morning in the Sept. “You… may not love him, or even like him— but there is a duty upon you to fulfill. It is a burden we carry as women, my dear. We are always behest to the men in our lives,” she stopped, her eyes glazing over with a far-away look, “I don’t mean to be discouraging. You are a… good hearted young woman and I believe you can channel that into something positive as the Queen.”

Lyanna felt her stomach quivering at Alicent’s words, her skin flushing. “I… appreciate your plain speech, your grace. I just… do not wish to displease him.”

Alicent’s mouth twitched at each end as if she were mulling something over. “It will be hard to please him, my dear. You are nothing like the women that usually please him,” she wiped a hand down her face, “You remind me so much of myself, Lyanna. Pushed into something you are… ill-suited for. You’re a sweet and kindhearted girl and I don’t wish for you to tear yourself apart on the inside and feel as if you’re not good enough for him– you are, you are too good for him, too pure, too-” Alicent took a measured breath, “You are not what he wants and you never will be, my dear. It will do you well to know that now rather than years later. There is always someone else in their eyes– women like you and I do what we can. I pray you will find things that keep you happy.”

Lyanna picked up her tea cup with trembling hands, taking a sip. There seemed to be more to Alicent’s words than them just being about Aegon– but she didn’t want to push it. Dipping her head, she thanked her good-mother-to-be once more.

–

“Wake up, wake up!” a voice boomed, rousing Aegon from his haze as a carafe of cold water was poured on him. The girl latched to his cock like a leech let out a shrill scream and scrambled away.

“Fucking hell– who the fuck?” Aegon slurred, blinking profusely half a dozen times before his vision came into focus. It was one of the Kingsguard, one more behest to his grandsire than him– and his grandsire, Otto, who had the now empty container of water in hand.

“Wake up, you ingrate,” Otto growled, grabbing his grandson by his collar, hoisting him up onto his feet, smacking his cheek gently. “Your wedding is in two hours and you’re passed out in a whorehouse. You’re the king, for the Seven’s sake– I thought you left this debauchery behind, atleast have your whores at the keep instead of being in these pits of sin.”

“You can put a number of different hats on a bear, you know,” Aegon slumped against the wall, “Many kinds of hats; a hood, a felted dante, a linen coif, a cowl, a straw hat, a jester’s garb– heh, that’d be quite funny–”

“Is there a point to your drunken babbling, Aegon?”

“Yes, ah– you can put many types of hats on a bear and change its look but at the end of the day, its still just a fucking bear,” he straightened out his stained tunic, “Point being– you can stick a crown on my head, put a sword in my hand and put me through a war to keep me on that fucking throne but guess what, grandsire, I am still just a bear at the end of the day.”

Otto stared at him, brow furrowed. “You aren’t a bear, you’re a dragon and a king, so act like it. You are getting married in two hours and you look like a sloven mess. You’re lucky that Borros is as blind for power and recognition as he is or he would take his daughter back to Storm’s End and you’ll be stuck with the next best choice.”

“That boring rube of a girl was my best choice? I must be fucked, then, either way.”

Otto and his Kingsguard dog dragged Aegon back to the keep, and observed while maids scrubbed him clean, red and raw. He was put in a nicely fit green suit, his House cloak strapped to his shoulders. It was a whirlwind of events that led up to the doors of the Sept being opened and Aegon ushered in.

His stomach churned and he felt sixteen again, forced to wed his sister. He remembered being hardly conscious throughout the ceremony, fumbling over his cloak and practically smothering Helaena in it.

He looked down the aisle at Lyanna, who was dressed in a pale yellow dress with long, flowing sleeves. She had a high collar with black lining and antler embroidery all over the garment. It was actually well fitted this time, likely thanks to his mother, and it turned out she actually had a figure, with plush hips and a well-endowed chest. Her brown hair was half up, half down with an assortment of intricate braids– it reminded him of how Rhaenyra used to wear her hair and he wondered who thought to style it like that, and he wondered if he was the only one who noticed.

As he walked down the aisle, he saw his mother in the front row– she was crying, thumbing a pendant in the shape of a Seven Pointed Star.

The ceremony was a blur to him, as he put the cloak over her shoulders and sealed their union with a kiss– a chaste one. She tasted like lavender tea. As he pulled back, he noticed that her eyes were rimmed with tears, and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his own eyes.

The feast was much the same, as he drank himself into a numbing stupor. He only had one moment of clarity, as some of the rowdy guests began to poke and prod at Lyanna, talking about the bedding ceremony. She looked visibly uncomfortable, picking at her nail beds under the table. Something about the sight of her discomfort and pain stirred something in Aegon that he couldn’t name– maybe he was feeling sentimental from the alcohol, but a surge of possessiveness flowed through him. He wasn’t known to be possessive, much the opposite in fact. But the egregious actions of these men pawing at his wife– their fucking queen, mind them– making disgusting insinuations. If she were a whore, it’d be different– but she was so… innocent, so coerced in all of this just as he was, it felt wrong.

Aegon snapped, slamming his cup down, “There won’t be any fucking bedding ceremony,” he growled, “My wife and I will be retiring to our chambers– alone. And if… any one of you lays another paw on her, you will lose it.”

Lyanna stared at Aegon, those huge brown eyes wide. Her lips were parted slightly as he once again strung her along the halls to his– no, their– chambers. She was shaking.

Once in their chambers, he let go of her, uncorking another bottle of wine and taking a swig. “I presume you think that this is where I will fuck you, hm? Stick my prick in you and make an heir and we will all live happily ever after like a child’s storybook.”

Lyanna stared down at her feet. “It… it would be… the duty of husband and wife to consummate–”

“Fuck duty! I’m not going to fuck some weepy eyed maiden because my old fuck grandsire said so. I don’t have need of you in that way.”

Her hands were trembling as she unlaced the back of her dress, her movements autonomous– she was doing what she thought she should be doing in this situation. She began to undress, slipping her gown off and leaving her in her silken shift, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The sight of her body, soft, stirred something within him for a moment, like a spark trying to ignite kindling.

“We don’t have to do this, Lyanna,” he murmured, using her name for the first time. He put down the wine bottle. “We can wait.”

“N-no! Please, I want to– please,” Lyanna whispered, practically pleading for it, as if she wanted to get it over with. “Please.”

Aegon rubbed a hand down his face. “Get on the bed then. Lie on your stomach.”

She did as she was told, laying flat on the bed on her stomach. She clutched some pillows as a lifeline.

He knew he should warm her up, he knew that they should want to touch one another, he should want to see her face– but he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, or touch her for longer than was necessary. He barely shimmied down his trousers before he began poking at her entrance with a half-hard cock, partially trying to give her a moment to get used to the sensations, and partially trying to find where he was supposed to stick it– he knew, of course, he’d fucked his way through King’s Landing and then some, but he hadn’t fucked many maidens, and especially not when he was blind drunk.

Eventually, he hit home and slid into her, his movements slow at first. He could hear her whimpers and knew they weren’t of pleasure. It reminded him of his wedding night with Helaena where they’d both cried– all the memories of that night came flooding back, causing him to falter.

Lyanna looked back at him, her eyes puffy and red, “I-Is it over?”

Aegon swallowed sharply, cringing as he stared at her. The moment of arousal he had– purely from stimulation alone– was gone now, his half-hard erection deflating completely. “Fuck– yes, it’s over.” he didn’t have the heart to tell her that it in fact had hardly started before it was over– and not in the good way. He pulled out of her, taking in a deep breath as he walked to the water basin and soaked a cloth with warm water, offering it to her. “Wipe yourself– it will help with the… pain… and blood.”

She took the cloth, wiping away the remnants of their half-fulfilled consummation. “I-I’m… sorry,” Lyanna whispered, sniffling, “I know I am not what you want.”

His mouth was pulled into a thin line as he turned away. “You’re right. You aren’t.”

They fell into bed next to each other and Aegon’s mind was swimming as he tried to sleep. He didn’t know what he wanted. He never wanted any of this– he just wanted to be a kid again with no responsibilities, with all of his siblings, even Rhaenyra– he would’ve… he would’ve been nicer to all of them, he wouldn’t of picked on Aemond, he would’ve gotten to know Rhaenyra better, he would’ve played with Helaena’s bugs, he would’ve taught Daeron all of the secrets of the castle. He would’ve told his grandsire to fuck off when they were to crown him and had Sunfyre char him to a crisp and given the crown to Rhaenyra.

He would’ve been loved then.

He just wanted to be loved.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #wine red tears gold

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in-my-feels-probably · 2 years

Note

It's Aemond Targaryen you asked, it's Aemond Targaryen we give (and sorry because this is going to be long 😅)

Ok, ever since I read this au where Meraxes wasn't killed and lived until the Dance made me think that she'll def be bigger than Vhagar (since it's established in the books that Meraxes was bigger than Vhagar during the Conquest) this made me think, what if Meraxes, due to her size and her headstrong and tenacious personality, became like a wild dragon and stayed hidden somewhere in Dragonstone after Queen Rhaenys's death because no one is worthy to become her new rider.

Since Meraxes decided to stay hidden, most people over the years believed she really died, until she was discovered by (Y/N) months after her mother Rhaenyra and Daemon's wedding. (Y/N), believed to be Queen Rhaenys I's reincarnation for having the Targaryen looks and personality despite being Jacaerys' younger twin, became worthy to Meraxes and bonded with her to become her rider.

The Blacks knowing that Meraxes will be of great asset to their side decided to keep her a secret and still made everyone in the kingdom, especially the Greens, believe that (Y/N) still doesn't have a dragon. So IMAGINE Aemond's shock when Meraxes and (Y/N) came to Lucaerys and Arrax's aid on that night at Storm's End, saving Luce and arrived at Dragonstone alive. Imagine the shock of the Greens that the Blacks have Meraxes that's bigger than Vhagar on their side, and imagine what Aemond would feel that his precious little niece since he has been pining for her for years.

Doomsday

Hi! This is so long, I’m so sorry. I just had so much to say, I probably should have made this multiple parts. Oh well, I wanted to get it out anyway. I changed a few parts of your request, but nothing major. I hope everything I added is ok, and that you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!

(Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of death, kinda targaryen incest, swearing, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Your relationship with your family was most definitely an interesting one.

Being the sole daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you had many eyes on you. Especially because you were the only one of her children that resembled her looks. She did eventually have children with Daemon that got the Targaryen features, but for a time, you were the only one. Which was particularly odd, considering you were twins with Jacaerys, who looked nothing like you.

Many speculated that you were a child from another, that Rhaneyra took in as her own. Others suspected that you were her only true child she had with Laenor Velaryon. There were even whispers of you being a reincarnation of past rulers, including Queen Rhaenys.

Your parents never addressed the silly claims, only ever raising you as a Targaryen and a Velaryon. You were to hold your head up high, just as your Mother did.

Growing up in King’s Landing, there wasn’t much you particularly enjoyed doing. The city wasn’t to your taste. Your brothers and your uncles regularly trained, which you occasionally looked in on to fill the time, but you hardly ever joined yourself.

Being Rhaenyra’s daughter, and the supposed daughter of Laenor, there was a certain expectation that you train as well alongside your brothers as well.

However, your family had lots to say about it, especially Aegon. To avoid the harassment, Ser Harwin offered to train you one on one. Ser Criston, biased towards your uncles, made training a very unpleasant experience, and Ser Harwin took it upon himself to make sure you received the same training as your brothers did. You suspected your Mother had something to do with it, but Ser Harwin never made it seem like he was acting on her request. He was always kind to you, which was one of the few perks to living in the capital.

Occasionally, Aemond would join in on training with you. Your relationship growing up with Aemond was interesting, to say the least. One of the other few perks of living in the city. As children, you bonded over the fact that neither of you had dragons, despite both of you being given dragon eggs when you were born. They never hatched, which Aegon enjoyed taunting you both to no end about.

Your brothers weren’t as cruel, but they joked with you as well, as young boys tend to do. Jacaerys, your twin brother, often tried to console you about it. Sometimes, he’d let you fly with him on his dragon, Vermax, who seemed to sense how close you were with his rider. As nice as Jace would try to be, he also lived to tease you, as any brother would.

“You’ll have a dragon one day,” he’d tell you. “Besides, it’s only fair, Y/N. You got the silver hair. You're the spitting image of Mother.”

You’d scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him. “I’ll trade you for a dragon.”

“Then who would keep Aemond company while the rest of us are out flying?”

You remembered the day your brothers and uncle decided it would be funny to tell Aemond they had found him a dragon, and instead brought a pig with parchment wings glued to its back out of the dragon pit. His Mother told him to forget his incessant obsession over having a dragon, but he just couldn’t let it go.

You found him that evening, stalking around in the courtyard, pouting. When he heard you approach, he sniffled and quickly wiped under his eyes, but he knew you had caught him crying. You told him there was no shame in it, and that he did not have to hide that part of himself to you.

You had sat down, patting the spot on the ground next to you. He relented, taking his place beside you. You sat in comfortable silence, something you often did together. Aemond was never a man of many words, but he was especially quiet in times like this.

“We will have dragons one day, Aemond. I know it. It does no good to dwell on it now. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing your tears. Tell me you know that.”

He turned to you, offering a small smile. “I know.”

He didn’t really believe it himself, but somehow, he knew you were right. You were never able to lie to him, and so he knew you were only ever speaking the truth. And if you believed, he believed it too. Your faith was good enough for him.

Aemond was always good at comforting you, too.

When you heard news of Ser Harwins death, you were near inconsolable. While you understood the rumors around your family, and you knew in your heart that there was great potential for the man to be your Father, you publicly grieved anyway.

Aemond threatened to take the tongue of any man who teased you about it.

—

As you got older, you saw less and less of Aemond. The night Lucerys took Aemond’s eye, defending his brother and Daemon’s daughters, you didn’t exactly take his side. If there was one thing you were, it was loyal to your family. As much as you loved Aemond, you wouldn’t take his side if you knew in your heart that he was wrong. You had told him how you thought him claiming Vhagar was unfair, and that it wasn’t his right to do so. Still, that made it no easier to see him hurt, and permanently scarred. You knew it would leave him vulnerable to torment.

That night, Alicent attacked your own Mother.

An eye for an eye.

You weren’t having it. Just as fierce and brave as your mother, you stood in front of Luke and Jace, trying your best to protect them. Rhaenyra took a knife for it, and it was the final blow that wedged its way into the middle of your family, dividing the two sides.

The Greens and the Blacks.

Alicent wouldn’t allow her sons to be around your brothers for longer than absolutely necessary. By association, this included you too. In your later years, you came to understand why Alicent did all that she did. She just wanted her family safe, and she did what she could with the cards she was dealt. But that didn’t mean that you were happy about it, and you spent what little time you had left in the city trying to make amends with Aemond.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t that upset. The night he was hurt, you had snuck to see him. You profusely apologized, swearing that you never meant for any of this to happen. He had stopped you, sounding much wiser than his age.

“I understand, Y/N. They’re your family. I would never ask you to give up your loyalty for me.”

If only he knew just how much you cared about him, and how you often worried that one day, you would be asked to give it up for him. You could never stomach the idea of truly letting him go.

At the time, you didn’t know what to say. He was being suspiciously kind, especially after all you said to his mother in your brother's defense.

“It is a trade that I can bear, Y/N. An eye seems a small price for the largest dragon in the world. You were right in the end.”

“I really am sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I’m grateful you understand,” you muttered, gently taking his hand in yours. You slightly grinned. “And of course I was right, I always am. I’m happy for you. Truly. Maybe a bit jealous, but truly.”

—

In the following years, you spent most of your time with your family on Dragonstone.

Sometimes, Aemond would write letters to you. It warmed your heart to know he still thought of you. He had matured immensely since you left. You heard tales of him, of the mysterious young Prince, rider of Vhagar, distinguished swordsman. It amused you to think of him in that light, when you could still remember beating him in duels as children and watching him complain to Ser Criston.

When your grandsire, King Viserys, was said to be very ill, your Mother decided it was finally time to return to King's Landing.

It was good timing, since Rhaenyra would have the opportunity to introduce her youngest children to her Father, as well as inform him of the marriage pact between your brothers and Daemon’s daughters. It was also an opportunity to challenge Vaemond for Driftmark, which your Mother believed to be rightfully Lucerys’s. Rhaenys had a soft spot for you, and a respect for Rhaenyra, and your family knew she would eventually back you all and vouch for you to the King.

Upon arrival, Alicent greeted you. Daemon, able to see through her antics, had little patience for her speeches. Unlike him, you could see that she was trying her best to mend the family, if not for herself, then for her husband, who greatly desired it.

She directed you to where Aemond was, so that her and your Mother could catch up. You found him in the courtyard, silently watching the ships in the harbor. Vhagar could be seen across the water, soaring through the sky.

You had grown into yourself since the last time in the city, but it was nothing, compared to Aemond.

He was tall now, much taller than you. His hair was long, a shining silver, tied back out of his face. He carried himself like a warrior, with his head high. He was always a rather quiet person, but now his silence only added to his reverence. He wore an eye patch, covering the eye he lost. Even from a distance, you could see the slightly raised scar, which healed with a silver hue.

You had almost forgotten how handsome he was. He really was beautiful.

You couldn’t help yourself from smiling. You cleared your throat, alerting him of your presence.

“Are you going to stand there all day, or am I expected to just hug myself?”

He smiled, a genuine rare smile. His voice was soft. “Y/N.”

Aemond, just as he wasn’t a man of many words, wasn’t a man accustomed to touch. He rarely ever sought out your touch, or anyone’s touch for that matter…it was only when he was really upset, and it was all that could pull him back from the brink. But this time, he opened his arms, hoping that you’d be just as excited to see him as he was to see you.

You laughed, a bright sound that warmed his heart. You rushed over to him, securing your arms tight around his waist. You pressed your cheek to his chest, relishing in his hold. He was warm, and familiar.

“Look at you,” you murmured into his chest.

“Look at you,” he replied, leaning back to get a better look at you. “How have you managed to get even more beautiful since the last time I saw you?”

“Oh, hush. You’re one to talk.” You grinned.

“I’m glad to have you back. Finally, someone worth talking to. No one around here is capable of holding a halfway decent conversation.”

You shook your head, teasing. “Don’t exaggerate. You don’t like talking, anyway. I bet you were glad to see me go. ‘Finally, some peace and quiet.’ It’s a wonder I’ve put up with you for as long as I have.”

“Alright, alright. Truce. Come, Helaena will be happy to see you.”

You smiled, following him, but then groaned, realizing. “Please tell me Aegon isn’t around. I’d rather not spoil my day within minutes of my arrival. I cannot be held responsible for my actions if he bothers me. Surely, your mother would understand. You are the favorite, after all.”

Aemond hummed, chuckling. “Don’t push your luck.”

—

The day had turned out to be quite the series of events. You, amongst many other things, bore witness to Daemon beheading Vaemond Velaryon, in defense of your Mother. Vaemond had called you bastards, and Rhaenyra a whore.

If Daemon hadn't done something about it, you would have. You didn’t take kindly to insults towards your family. While it was true that your brothers bore no resemblance to their father, you didn’t let that get in the way of defending them.

To tell the truth, you harbored no great affection for your Father, Ser Laenor. He was a kind man, even kinder for fathering children that were not his, if there was to be any truth to the rumors. He loved you, as any father would, but he never made any attempts to strengthen yours and his relationship.

Your Mother told you it was because you resembled the Targaryens. Your spirit reminded him of his sister, who he greatly missed.

When he “passed,” and Daemon married your Mother, you were happier for it. You always enjoyed Daemon’s company, and of your siblings, he seemed to prefer you. He had no shame in hiding it. He was infinitely better at fathering girls.

You were happy to have Rhaena and Baela at your side during your time at Dragonstone, as well as Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys, who often visited.

You had a great love for the Blacks. You were extremely loyal to them, and when they were threatened in court, you stood by Daemon's side without so much as flinching.

Helaena gasped and turned away, shielded by her mother, even Aegon taking a step back. Aemond just watched, slightly bewildered, but intrigued.

He met your eyes across the room, and your face was stoic. Brave. He had always liked that about you.

That night, the King ordered that the family dine together, united as one. It went about as well as could be expected with all the estranged family members in one room.

You had grown quite fond of Daemon since he had married your Mother, and you shared an amused glance across the table as Alicent said a prayer before the meal.

You looked over towards Aemond, to see if you could catch his gaze, but he had his eyes dutifully closed. Whether he was actually praying, or just attempting to appease his own mother, you did not know. Still, you’d have to tease him for it later.

Your Mother announced the betrothal of Jacaerys and Lucerys to Rhaena and Baela. The news was taken surprisingly well across the table, and you smiled fondly at each pair, truly grateful to see them all happy. Even more so grateful that you were finally getting true sisters.

Aegon, being the bastard he is, had to spoil everyone's fun. You supposed he couldn’t help himself, it was in his nature to be a perpetual nuisance. Still, that fact didn’t make him any less insufferable.

You only heard the tail end of his words to Jace, not only embarrassing you brother in his attempt, but your soon to be sister in law.

“Hold your tongue, Aegon. It would be a shame to see you lose it.”

Aegon grinned, narrowing his eyes at you. “Always a pleasure, aren’t you?”

You were sidetracked by the King congratulating Luke on his inheritance of Driftmark. The toast was short, once again interrupted by Aegon antagonizing Jace.

Jace clenched his jaw. “I believe my sister told you to hold your tongue. Are two warnings necessary, or are you just that daft? You can play the jester if you wish, but you will hold your tongue before my betrothed.”

The King stood, expressing his sorrow to see his family so estranged. He removed his mask, giving you a view of his decaying face. You fought to keep your face steady, not wanting to offend him. You watched with respect as he did his best to stay upright, and instill the importance of message to you all.

“Set aside your grievances. If not for the Crown, then for the man who loves you all. So dearly.”

You looked around the room as Alicent helped him sit, watching everyone’s faces. No one could seem to make eye contact, staring at their plates. Suddenly your Mother stood up, raising her cup. The King’s words seem to inspire a round of toasts, all of which struck you. Knowing the history of your Mother and Alicent, you felt a twinge in your heart at their words, smiling as you watched them commend each other.

Of course, the peace only lasted so long. The revered toasts game to jokes, blows to blows. Aegon angered your brother, who stood to look Aegon in the eye. At the intensity of the stares, Aemond stood as well, staring them both down.

Rolling your eyes, you cleared your throat, ever so slightly. Aemond caught your glare, and decided to sit, rather than endure your wrath. Jace and Aegon took it as their cue to follow, sitting and half heartedly making up, at least as cordially as they could without hitting each other.

Helaena stood, and as much as you loved her, you rolled your eyes, thinking that you couldn’t bear another awkward toast. To your surprise, although you don’t think she intended, she took a dig at Aegon, wounding his pride.

To your amusement even more so, when the harpist began to play, Jace asked Helaena to dance, who gladly accepted. The peace was once again overlooming, if only for a moment. Seeing your family smile brought a smile to your own face. You laughed as you watched Jace and Helaena dance, if you could even call it dancing. Your Mother’s laugh was bright, warming your heart. There was nothing more in the world you enjoyed more than seeing her happy.

When the King groaned in pain, and was carried off by his guards, you knew it was the end of the peace. He was holding you all together, and without him, it was bound to crumble.

The final straw was the roasted pig, placed in front of Aemond on the table. You covered your mouth with your hand in realization, silently willing him not to react. You weren’t so lucky, because Luke snickered, and Aemond, never the one to let his pride be wounded, stood up for the final toast of the night.

“To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…strong. Come, let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”

You finally stood, giving him a look of warning. “Aemond.”

Jace squared his shoulders. “I dare you to say that again.”

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

“Aemond!” You said louder, but you weren’t quick enough.

Jace quickly walked over, swinging and punching Aemond in the jaw. You gasped, although you did nothing to stand in the way. Aemond pushed Jace to the ground, guards suddenly filing in. You only stepped in when Aegon grabbed Luke, who was trying to come to his brother's defense, and pressed him to the table, holding him still.

“Unhand him or lose that hand,” you said, picking a knife up from a stray plate.

Reluctantly, Aegon let go, and you pulled Luke into you, pushing him towards your Mother. You whipped around the table, moving next to stop your twin, but Daemon had beaten you to it. He held him back as you came to step beside him, and you overheard Aemond’s words to his mother.

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of this family, Mother. Though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

Your Mother ordered her children to go to their quarters, but you remained by Daemon’s side as you watched Aemond stand opposite of you.

Aemond looked at Daemon, not necessarily willing to challenge him, but then he looked at you. He saw your face, riddled with anger and disappointment, and finally chose to step down, turning and walking out of the room. He didn’t look at you as he left. He walked straight past you, so close that all you had to do was reach out and touch him, but you didn’t.

You let him go.

As people began filing out of the room, Daemon turned to you. “You should have hit one of them. Gods know the bastards deserved it. I would have approved.”

You nodded, still seething. “There’s still time for it, I assure you. They’ll wish for it when I’ve finished with them.”

“I’m proud to call you my own.” He smirked at you, patting your shoulder before walking out of the room. “Make it hurt, darling.”

Your Mother and Alicent were all who were left, except a few guards and servants. You suddenly felt the urge to cry, and you rushed over to your Mother, nudging into her side. She ran a comforting hand through your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I think it’s best we go back to Dragonstone, my love.”

Alicent shook her head, taking your Mother’s hand. She placed her other hand on your arm. “Please, don’t go. You’ve only just arrived.”

Rhaenyra nodded, sighing. “Let me see the children home. I’ll come back on dragonback.”

Your eyes widened, and you turned to her. “Mother, you can’t come alone, not in your condition. I can see everyone home, or I can come back with you.”

She shook her head, cupping your cheek in her palm. “No, love, I need you with your brothers. You’re the only level headed one out of them all, including Daemon. I want to know that you’re safe, that you’re all together. Say your goodbyes.”

You wanted to argue, but you just nodded in defeat. You looked to Alicent, who gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

“Helaena will want to say her goodbyes. She’s been dying for you to meet the children. And Aemond…I know he acted tonight without cause, and I will not defend it. But please, let him see you off, too. He sulked for a month the last time you left. He’s too prideful to come to you himself, and he knows he’s angered you. I won’t blame you if you don’t say goodbye, but I’m urging you to. You know where he’ll be.”

You nodded. “Of course, Your Grace. He may have made a fool of himself, but I know I can persuade him to apologize. I’ll say goodbye to both of them, I promise. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Alicent smiled at you with a genuine fondness. She turned to your Mother. “You’ve raised a fine daughter, Rhaenyra. She’s just like you.”

Your Mother smiled. “Yes, I’m very proud. I don’t know where she gets it all from. Go ahead, say your goodbyes, my girl.”

You nodded at them both, turning to leave the room. You knew where Aemond would be, it was where he always went to sulk.

Sure enough, you found him up on the hill just outside the dragonpit. Vhagar was too large to stay in the pit, so she slept outside when she stayed close to the castle. Aemond always went to the pit, standing on a perch that overlooked the hill so he could watch Vhagar.

You supposed it was because, while Aemond was a very independent person, he didn’t truly enjoy being alone. With Vhagar nearby, he could still feel like someone he connected to was closeby, without ever having to go to another person and face the risk of embarrassment.

When you still lived in the city, half the time, he’d choose to come to you. The other half, this is where he’d be.

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself not to shout at him. It wouldn’t accomplish anything, and it would only cause him to sulk further. You could see his shoulders square, and his body tense. You hadn’t made your presence known, but he had picked up on it anyway.

“If you expect me to show you pity, you have the wrong idea. Do you want to tell me what that little performance was?”

He said nothing, but you could see him flex his hand, balling his fingers into a fist.

“I suggest you speak now because I will be gone by morning.” This got his attention, and he turned his head just enough that he could see you. “What?”

“Mother has ordered we go back to Dragonstone,” you informed. “I tried to get her to let me stay, but she wouldn’t hear it. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Aemond hummed, his eyes cast to his feet. He just nodded, turning back to face Vhagar.

You scoffed. “Really? You have nothing to say to me? If you let me leave now without an explanation, don’t bother sending a raven because I won’t receive it. So, what will it be?”

He turned around to fully face you, taking a step forward. “I…I’m sorry.”

You raised a brow. “Sorry? You’re sorry? It was one dinner, Aemond. Surely you could have made it through without adding any more fuel to the fire. I understand your resentment towards my brothers, and I know Aegon was no help, but for fucks sake. You had no right.”

“Jacaerys insulted my family!” Aemond said, taking yet another step towards you.

You took a step forward, shortening the gap between you both. Your eyes were full of anger, your voice bitter.

“No, Aemond, no he didn’t. Your brother made snide remarks, not only to Jace, but to my soon to be sister, and Jace stood up for her. If Aegon is who you are offended on behalf of, you have misunderstood who your true family is. You, however, insulted my family. Belittling my brothers is one thing, even I do it when they’re being uncivil. But they did no such thing.”

Aemond wouldn’t meet your eyes, looking down at the ground.

“To question their legitimacy in front of the entire family, and in front of the King no less, is to question mine. Or have you forgotten I’m a so-called Strong, too? I may not have the looks, but I am every bit of his child as my brothers are, if you truly believe it to be so. I will not have you think any less of me because of it.”

He met your eyes at the accusation, his face softening. “Y/N, you know I would never question that about you–”

“Do I, Aemond? Do I know that? Because you seemed pretty content to do so tonight. Hear me when I say this, I can’t be more clear about it. I don’t give a shit who my real father is. I would be just as proud to call Ser Harwin my father as I was to call Ser Laenor my father. Just as I regard Daemon as my father. The truth of it matters not to me, and it shouldn’t to you either. Do you think of me less because of my parentage?”

“No–”

“Then why question it? Why, in an effort to humiliate my brothers, would you drag me into it? What purpose does it serve you?”

Aemond nodded ever so slightly, his shoulders slumping. Reluctantly, he reached for one of your hands, and you begrudgingly accepted.

“I know. I acted on impulse, and I didn’t think–”

“Exactly, Aemond,” you said, although you didn’t let go of his hand. “You didn’t think.”

“I’m sorry.” You felt him squeeze your hand ever so slightly. You squeezed back.

You brought your other hand up to cup his chin and turn his head to face yours. You held him still, so he had to meet your gaze. Your voice was soft.

“Answer me this, then. I know you have no great love for your own father, and that is understandable. If you discovered that he wasn’t your true father, tell me in truth, would it really matter? Because if it doesn’t, why should mine? Does my parentage really matter that much to you? Or any of my family’s, for that matter?”

He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t matter. It is no one’s fault what family they’re born into.”

“Exactly. Blood isn’t what defines a family. Your family is who you choose it to be, and the rest doesn’t matter. I don’t give a shit about blood. My Mother is my family, Daemon is my family, my brothers and their betrothed are my family.”

You intertwined your fingers with his, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “You’re my family, you insufferable idiot. You, and Helaena, even your mother. And that is enough. That is who I pick. Are you hearing me?”

He nodded, face softening, his shoulders relaxing. His voice was quiet. “You’re mine, too.”

“Good,” you nodded, pulling him along with you. “You’re going to come with me to apologize to your mother, Gods only know what she must think of me and my brothers now.”

“She likes you. She smiles when I mention you.”

You grinned to yourself, tugging him along. “Fine, we can do that later. But we are going to say goodbye to Helaena, I have yet to meet her children, and I won’t leave here without doing so. I feel so bad for her, cooped up everyday with no one to talk to. Promise me you’ll be with her more. I know she’s lonely. Promise me.”

“I promise, Y/N. But why am I coming with you to say goodbye, I am not the one leaving.”

“Because…I don’t want to leave you alone just yet. I’ve only just arrived, and now I will be without you again. I’m taking all the time I can get…and, in the event that we run into your brother, you will be here to stop me from doing anything rash, like maiming him, or possibly killing him, I haven’t decided yet.”

You could hear him chuckle, knowing from the sound of his voice that he was smiling.

“That’s my girl.”

—

You left the next day, as did your family. It had been difficult to leave some of them behind. You knew in your heart that you wouldn’t see the King again, his health declining as rapidly as it was. You heart ached to see your Mother leave, just after it seemed like her relationship with Alicent was beginning to mend.

It hurt your heart even more so to leave behind Helaena. She cried when you told her, upset to see you go after you had only just arrived, and you comforted her as best you could, visiting with her and her children. You left her room nearly in tears, begging Aemond to pay more attention to her, to make sure she and her children were happy, and away from Aegon’s influence.

A promise is a promise.

He agreed, holding you close. He didn’t say much, just keeping you by his side for as long as he could. In the end, he saw you off with your family, promising to write. You asked him to visit, if he was able. After all, he had a dragon now, he could go wherever he wanted. He said he would try, and you said nothing else about it.

He didn’t actually say the word ‘goodbye.’ You supposed it may have been too difficult for him. You most certainly were having a hard time with it, so you didn’t say it either. You just promised that you would see him soon.

If only you had known how soon it would be.

In less than a month, your life had changed drastically.

Within a fortnight, once you had settled back home, Daemon heard rumors of a rogue dragon, hidden away off the coast of Dragonstone. Her description matched that of Meraxes, a dragon thought to be dead. The last to claim her was Queen Rhaenys, sister and wife of Aegon the Conqueror.

Meraxes was said to be even bigger than Vhagar, only second to Balerion, who had died years before. If it was true, and Meraxes really was alive, the Blacks had a chance to claim the biggest dragon in the world.

With all of your brothers having already claimed a dragon, and you still without one, Daemon decided she would be yours to claim, if she chose you.

You were shocked when he told you, but you went with him willingly to the cave she supposedly dwelled in. You rode on the back of Caraxes, fighting the pit in your stomach as your feet left the ground. You had been on dragonback before, but to know the next time you mount a dragon it may be your own, it had you frazzled.

“I believe it’s time you had a dragon of your own, don’t you?”

“What if she doesn’t choose me? What if she isn’t even real?”

He shook his head, grinning at you. “She’s real. And she’ll be yours. I can feel it.”

When you made it to the cave, Daemon walked with you as far as he could go. He stopped at the entrance, handing you a torch.

“It’s up to you now. Do me a favor, come out of there unharmed. I couldn’t handle your Mother’s wrath if I went and got her only daughter killed.”

“I’ll be alright. You don’t sound too worried, Kepa.”

Father.

He smiled, a genuine smile. “Go on.”

Once in the cave, it took you a few minutes to get your bearings. You grew a little anxious, but you swallowed your nerves, continuing on. You were going to do this for your family. You were going to do this for yourself. You let out a low hum, signaling anything inside of your presence. You walked for a little while longer, before you heard a low rumble, humming back to you.

You turned the corner, and sure enough, there she was. Glowing gold eyes and silver scales. She was beautiful.

She sniffed the air, opening her mouth, a shrill roar coming from her throat. Heat filled the room as she widened her jaws, and you could see the ball of fire at the back of her throat.

You held your hand out, calling out to her. “Kesan gaomagon ao daor ōdrikagon.”

I will do you no harm.

“Nyke iderēbagon ao, Merakses. Gaomagon ao iderēbagon nyke?”

I choose you, Meraxes. Do you choose me?

Meraxes hummed, inching closer to you. You held your breath and her snout came inches from your face, her teeth bared. You looked up into her eyes as she narrowed hers at you, staying still.

You took a breath, closing your eyes. You held a hand out straight in front of you.

“Iksi mēre isse keskydoso. Lentor.”

We are one in the same. Family.

You opened your eyes as you felt her nudge her snout into your hand, her breath hot on your hand. You smiled, excitement bubbling in your chest.

“Good girl, Meraxes.”

“Ivestragī īlva jikagon ūndegon ñuha kepa, Merakses. Rȳbagon naejot nyke.”

Let us go see my Father, Meraxes. Listen to me.

You climbed up her back, settling with your legs wrapped at the base of her neck. You leaned forward, gripping the spikes along her spine.

“We’ll have to fit you for a saddle and reigns, my girl. Obey, now. Jikagon.”

Go.

She stood, racing for the entrance of the cave. You grinned wide as you felt the wind through your hair, laughing as she breached the entrance. Meraxes soared into the sky, looping around the tops of the trees.

You saw Daemon on the ground, cheering.

“Get Caraxes, Daemon! I’ll fly the rest of the way on my own,” you shouted down.

You soared off towards Dragonstone, knowing Daemon wasn’t far behind. You couldn’t hide your smile as you flew up through the clouds, holding tight to Meraxes. When you finally reached Dragonstone, you landed atop the hill. You climbed down, walking around to face Meraxes.

“Jikagon, ñuha riña. Sōvegon. Ao gīmigon skori naejot māzigon arlī naejot nyke.”

Go, my girl. Fly. You know when to come back to me.

You ran a hand along her cheek before stepping back, and Meraxes took off into the clouds. You waited for Daemon to return at the edge of the castle, and grinned as you saw him and Caraxes break through the clouds. He quickly dismounted, letting Caraxes go, before rushing over to you.

“My girl,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “I knew she’d choose you.”

You smiled, hugging him back. “She’s incredible. I can’t believe it. Thank you for taking me.”

“No child of mine will be without a dragon. Come, let's show your Mother I brought you back in one piece.”

You nodded, following him into the castle. On your way to your Mother’s chambers, you passed Jacaerys. He ran up excitedly.

“Is it true? Is she real?”

“She’s real. And she’s mine.”

Jace laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “I told you that you’d have a dragon one day! Vermax always liked you. Even Vhagar liked you. Of course Meraxes would.”

“There’s time for celebration later, children. Come, Y/N.”

You nodded, waving to Jace, before following Daemon to greet your Mother. He held open the door for you, and you stepped in to see Rhaenyra sat at her table, holding baby Viserys. She turned as you entered and smiled, handing Viserys over to Daemon.

“You did it, didn’t you?”

You nodded, unable to contain your excitement, and your Mother laughed, that warm laugh that would comfort you in the darkest of times. She pulled you into her and you settled into her arms, resting your face in the crook of her neck. She cradled your head with her hand, holding you tightly.

“My sweet girl,” she pressed a kiss to your head, smiling fondly. “I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“You’d think she was Queen Rhaenys herself, with how she rides,” Daemon said, grinning at his girls.

“We must celebrate. Luke has been asking for you. I think he was more excited than any of us.”

“He just wants to brag,” you laughed. “No doubt to the Greens. I don’t think I want to tell anyone else about Meraxes, not just yet at least. I’d like it to be a surprise.”

Daemon laughed, patting your shoulder. “And what a surprise it will be.”

—

The next morning, you were awoken by your Mother’s screams.

You rushed down the hall to see your brothers.

“What is going on?”

Jace stopped you from entering Rhaenyra’s chambers. “Mother has begun her labors.”

“What? She isn’t far enough along!”

“I know! But you must calm down. I was asked to collect you and Luke, we are to report to Mother, she has asked for us. Daemon is in the throne room, all of the Lords have gathered. I am to report to him afterwards. Something has happened, but we must remain calm, for her and the babe’s sake, alright?”

You took a breath, nodding. You grabbed Luke’s hand, who was wide eyed and scared. You let Jace lead you in.

Your Mother was in nothing but her blood covered shift, hair wild as she clutched to the beam on her balcony. She was groaning in pain, bent over as she tried to steady herself.

“Mother?” Jace asked wearily.

You clutched Luke to you, grasping the back of Jace’s elbow with your free hand.

Your Mother turned to you. “Your grandsire, King Viserys, has passed. The Greens have repudiated the succession and claimed the Iron Throne. Aegon has been crowned King.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you let go of Jace to bring a hand up to your mouth. How could this happen? In such a short time, how did it all crumble? Did anyone do anything to stop it? Did Aemond? Your stomach turned at the thought.

“What is to be done about it?” Jace asked.

“Nothing, yet. Jacaerys, whatever claim remains to me, you are now its heir. Naught is to be done but by my command.”

Jace nodded, and Luke and him left the room. Your Mother groaned in pain, doubling over.

“Mother, I will be right back, I promise.”

“No, Y/N–” “I will not hear of it! I will be by your side! I will return in a moment.”

You willed yourself not to cry, stepping out of the room. You followed Jacaerys’s steps, marching into the throne room. You spotted Daemon, stepping past Jace.

“What has happened? Why has Mother begun her labors, it is far too early. And who let that fucking bastard sit upon the Iron Throne?”

Daemon sighed, walking over to you. “Calm down–”

“I will not! Mother is alone in there while you’re out here plotting a war. I understand the importance, but by all accounts, she is now the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Should we not wait for her word?”

Jacaerys nodded. “My Mother has decreed no action be taken while she is abed.”

“It’s good you’re here, young Prince. You’re needed to patrol the skies on Vermax. Y/N, Meraxes would be–”

“Did you hear what we said?” Jace asked, standing by your side.

Your Mother screamed, and you shook your head, turning to go.

“Tell no one outside of this room about Meraxes, I won't have the Greens know of her until she becomes of some use to us. Settle this amongst yourselves, I won’t leave Mother alone for another minute. And for fucks sake, please swallow your pride and do as she asks. No, as she commands. She’s your Queen, now. Act like it. Jace, I trust you can handle this.”

He nodded, and you turned to the other Lords, then to Daemon.

“I am asking that you give me the afternoon, so we can see to it that the Queen is safe. Trust me, I will stand by you as soon as this is over. You will have me and Meraxes. Heads will roll.”

You walked out of the room, rushing to your Mother’s chambers. You pushed open the door, brushing past the handmaidens gathered in the corner.

“Princess, let us help you,” one of them begged, holding back tears.

You went over to your Mother who was squatted by her bed, holding onto the post. “Mother, you’re going to let me help you.”

She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. She groaned, clawing at her thighs. She moved to rest on her knees, and you held her forearms, steadying her. The handmaidens were pleading with her to let them help.

“Mother, if you won’t accept theirs, you will accept mine. I was here for Aegon and Viserys, I will be here for this babe, too. What do you need?”

She leaned her forehead to rest against your shoulder, gripping your forearms as you held her up.

“Make it stop!”

You felt tears well in your eyes as you ran a hand through her hair, pressing your other to her stomach.

“Rest on your knees, and push. You’re doing so well.”

She cried out, and a gush of blood fell to the floor below, pooling around her thighs.

“Please, help hold me up.” You nodded and moved your hands to her waist, moving her weight to lean against you. You grimaced and turned your head as she groaned into your ear, reaching down to try and pull the baby out herself. With a final push, she slumped against you, and you scrambled to catch the baby as it slipped out.

Your Mother fell back to sit, and you steadied her as you moved to her side, now facing the handmaidens as well. You looked down to see a pool of blood, with your baby sister resting in it. The baby looked closer to a dragon than she did a human, her body scaly and her features morphed. You looked away, squeezed your eyes tight and took a breath, settling behind Rhaenyra so she could relax against you.

You could hear the handmaidens cry as your Mother picked up the baby, cradling it in her arms. A sob passed her lips, and you finally opened your eyes, leaning your forehead against her shoulder.

“She’s beautiful, Mother. You did so well. Visenya was the name you picked if it was a girl, wasn’t it? I think that suits her.”

Your Mother let out a wail, pressing her face into your neck. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, gently swaying her back and forth. You could see Daemon enter the room, and you looked up at him in despair.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured, clutching your Mother tight. Daemon bowed his head, hiding his tears. He quickly left the room, leaving you with Rhaenyra.

She wouldn’t let you in the room with her and the Silent Sisters. You begged her to let you stay, but she wouldn’t relent. She could barely speak without crying.

“I cannot allow it, my love. You’ve done more than enough for me. But I have to do this on my own.”

You nodded, respecting her wishes. You found Daemon later that day, on the beach. He had fallen to his knees on the shoreline, his head bowed low. He had silent tears, running down his cheeks. You approached him, crouching down next to him. You had blood staining the bottom of your dress, it clouding the water where you sat.

You gently laid your hand on his. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have done something.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “...Was it a girl?”

“It was,” you smiled sadly. “Mother said you would’ve called her Visenya.”

Daemon nodded, resting his head on yours. You could feel tears land in your hair. “I am lucky enough to have one remarkable daughter. You’ve done more for your Mother today than any father should ever have to ask of his child. I’m glad you were with her, when I couldn’t be.”

That evening, you held a service for your baby sister. A funeral pyre was lit for her. Within hours, Lords had come to your Mother’s support, and she was formally crowned Queen in front of the masses. You and all your family, the Blacks, as well as the Lords and knights under your command, bent the knee and swore fealty to her.

That night, you stayed by your Mother’s side for as long as she would allow you to. She held you close, cupping your face in her hands.

“I am so proud of you, sweet girl. Thank you for today. I don’t think I would have made it through without you.”

After you left her chambers to head to your own, your brothers stopped you, and made sure you were alright. Luke hugged you tight as Jace laid a hand on your shoulder.

“We heard what you did for Mother today. I can’t imagine it,” Luke said into your shoulder.

You shook your head. “You both were very brave today, too. You took charge, spoke for Mother when she couldn’t herself. I know it was scary, but you handled it well. You’re going to make fine rulers some day.”

—

The following days were spent planning for imminent war. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys assisted, offering their fleet and dragons as help. Lords around the realm either staked their claim of support, or backed the Greens.

Otto Hightower came to give Aegon’s terms. Among making your brothers shields and cupbearers, he proposed that you live out your days as a servant as well, and one of his choosing. It took all you had left in you to not call Meraxes and burn Otto to the ground, and tell Aegon to take his terms and cram them down his throat.

Your Mother told him that she would have a response for him the following day, much to Daemon’s displeasure. As much as you would have enjoyed watching Daemon take Otto’s head, you were completely loyal to your Mother, and would stand by her in every decision she made.

When making battle plans, your Mother knew she had to get word to the pivotal Lords of the realm, before the Greens sunk their claws in themselves.

Any love you had for the Greens had died along with your baby sister. While you were sure Helaena and her children were innocent in the matter, the rest of them were to blame. Yuu found it hard to believe some of them could have stooped so low. Aegon and Otto made sense, but the rest of them you didn’t understand. You didn’t know how Aemond was involved in all of it, but you knew he did nothing to stop the betrayal.

As far as you were concerned, they could all burn. Princess Rhaenys would have done the realm a favor if she had just burned that little bastard to ash in the dragonpit when she had the chance.

As a way of moving the plans along faster, your brother made a proposal.

“We should bear those messages. Dragons can fly faster than ravens, and they’re more convincing. Send us,” Jace said, standing next to Luke.

You looked across the table to your Mother, watching her contemplate.

“The Prince is right, Your Grace,” Lord Corlys added.

Heads turned to look at your brothers, who stood next to their betrothed. Your Mother finally relented, nodding.

“Very well. Prince Jacaerys will fly north. First to the Eerie to see my mother’s cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the north. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm’s End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. We must remind these Lords of the oaths they swore, and the cost of breaking them.”

Your Mother looked at you, offering you a smile. “Princess Y/N will remain here for the time being, and will assist if necessary. I expect Meraxes will be needed in the near future, and she will serve us much better as a surprise for the Greens. The Princess will stay to help decide when the best time for that is.”

Everyone nodded, knowing their positions, and dispersed to do their duties.

Hours later, your brothers, as well as Princess Rhaenys, were ready to leave for the skies. You stood by your Mother as your brothers approached, each being handed a scroll with a message from the Queen.

“If you take this errand, you go as messengers, not as warriors. You must take no part in any fighting…Cregan Stark is closer to your age than mine. I would hope that as men, you can find some common interest.”

Jace nodded, taking the scroll from her. “Yes, Your Grace.”

She turned to Luke, handing him his scroll. She offered him a smile when she saw his uneasy face. “Storm's End is a short flight from here. You have Baratheon blood from your grandmother, Rhaenys. And, Lord Borros is an eternally proud man..he will be honored to host a prince of the realm, and his dragon. I expect you will receive a very warm welcome.”

“Yes Mothe–Your Grace,” Luke said, taking his scroll.

You smiled at him, bringing him into a quick hug. You turned to Jace, who opened his arms for you. You hugged him tight, before stepping back to your Mother’s side.

“If either of you do something stupid and make me come save you, I will wring your neck. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy taking Meraxes, but I would hope my first time flying with you wasn’t to save your ass. Both of you do me that favor, please.”

Your Mother laughed, your brothers smiling. “I wouldn’t have put it in those words, but yes, you’re right. Listen to your sister, my boys. Go to it, then.”

Within the hour, your brothers and grandmother had taken to the skies, soaring over the water until they were specks on the horizon.

It was the first evening of peace in a while. You sat with your mother, and baby Aegon and Viserys, who were babbling to each other in broken Valyrian. You would have your Mother all to yourself for the next few weeks, content to be by her side whenever she needed you.

Something had been bothering you for weeks now, ever since you left King’s Landing. You had yet to find the right time to bring it up, but now seemed as good a time as any.

“Mother?” You asked, getting her attention. “I have something to ask.”

She nodded at you, waiting for you to continue.

“I am aware the timing couldn’t be any worse, but…I’ve been thinking. I know you don’t truly want a war. And I think, the path that would have the least resistance, is a marriage pact.”

She raised a brow, setting her hand on yours. “A marriage pact? Between who, my love? You?”

You nodded. “I am of age, and Luke and Jace are betrothed. I think it would be easier and less divisive to the family, if we were to offer my hand.”

“To whom?” She asked, and you fought the heat creeping to your cheeks. She gave you a small and knowing smile, squeezing your hand.

“I see. Don’t worry yourself with the matter, love. It is a conversation for later. I won’t ask anything of you unless it is entirely necessary. Just rest, for now.”

You nodded, settling into your seat.

Of course the peace had to be disturbed, as it inevitably always is. You supposed you knew it wouldn’t have lasted. You had had a pit in your stomach from the minute your brothers left on dragonback, and it finally was catching up to you.

Daemon rushed in, searching for you. “Meraxes is on the hilltop.”

Your Mother quirked a brow. “So? Doesn’t she spend half her time up there?”

“Not like this,” Daemon said, looking at you. “She’s restless, irritable. She seems like she’s looking for you, Y/N. You know that dragons are connected to their rider, and they can feel when you’re in distress, just like you can feel when they’re in distress. So tell me the truth, do you feel something right now?”

You felt your stomach drop at his words, and warily nodded. Your Mother sat up straight.

Daemon took your hand, getting your attention. “Tell me now. What are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I’ve had a pit in my stomach since the boys left. I thought I just missed them, I couldn’t pin the feeling down as worry.”

“But not for your grandmother? Just for the boys?” He asked.

“No, not her. It was after seeing Luke, he seemed nervous. But he ought to be, it’s his first time without guidance, he’s doing this alone.”

“Y/N, listen very carefully. I need you to focus hard. What does Meraxes know that you don’t? What has she seen that you haven't?”

“I don’t understand–”

“Focus, my love, please” your Mother said, taking your other hand. “Are the boys in danger?”

Your heart ached for your Mother, knowing she couldn’t bear to lose another child. You closed your eyes, thinking hard. You let your thoughts wander, feeling your connection to Meraxes. Suddenly, you opened your eyes, gasping.

“She saw Vhagar. She must have flown near Storm’s End. Aemond will be there by the time Luke arrives, he may already be there.”

Your Mother put a hand to her stomach, like she was going to be sick. “Oh, Gods.”

Daemon squeezed your hand. “You know him better than anyone. Would he truly hurt the boy?”

“Are we willing to risk it? I want to say I don’t think Aemond is capable of doing it, but I didn’t think he was capable of standing by while his brother usurped the throne. I’m going.”

You turned to leave the room, but your Mother stopped you.

“Wait! You don’t know what you’re walking into. I will not risk two more of my children.”

“Mother, please trust me. I will be fine. Meraxes won’t let any harm come to me. She is the biggest dragon in the world, even Vhagar doesn’t stand a chance against her. If Vhagar is truly what has Meraxes so unsettled, then I’m going. I won’t risk Luke not acting on a feeling.”

“Y/N–”

“I hope to the Gods that I am wrong, that Aemond has not fallen so far. But if he has, I am all that would stop him. Luke and Arrax need me. You said that I am to remain here until Meraxes is necessary, and now she is. I would rather expose Meraxes to the Greens than regret hiding in the shadows. I will be back soon, Mother, I promise. And I’ll have Luke with me.”

Your Mother sighed, gripping your hands in hers. “Y/N–”

“Please,” you interrupted, squeezing her hands. “I can do this.”

She choked back a cry, pulling you into a hug. “Alright, fine. But be quick about it. You turn back at the first sign of danger. Get in and get out, don’t antagonize Aemond. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you nodded.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Daemon asked, a look of worry set on his face.

You shook your head. “We can’t risk anyone else, and the Queen is the most important thing now. I’d rather have you by Mother’s side than with me. I’m praying that this is just a feeling, and that I’m wrong, but if it’s not, I won’t risk you, too. I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll be back soon.”

You pulled the both of them into a tight hug, before marching out of the room. You ran to the hilltop, approaching Meraxes. She had yet to be saddled, but you had no time to change that.

“It’s time to go, my girl,” you called out as you climbed up her wing and onto her back. “Sōvegon!”

Fly!

Meraxes took to the skies, soaring into the clouds. You gripped her tight as you clung to her, willing her to fly as fast as she could. With her size, it would not take long to reach Storm’s End. Hopefully, you’d arrive soon after Luke.

You tried not to think about all the horrible possibilities as you brought a hand up to shield yourself from the rain. You could hardly see, but you shook your head, blinking back tears. You were going to make it in time, and Lucerys was going to be fine.

By the time you reached Storm’s End, Luke and Arrax, as well as Aemond and Vhagar, were nowhere to be found. You looked around in confusion as you circled the castle, before directing Maraxes to fly upwards. Maybe there’d be a better look from above the rain clouds.

As you reached the top of the clouds, you scanned the skies for any sign of movement. Suddenly, a dark figure passed below you.

Vhagar flew through the air, Aemond mounted on her back. “Daor, Vhagar! Rȳbagon naejot nyke!”

No, Vhagar! Listen to me!”

You heard a dark rumble below, followed by a cry, and you finally spotted your brother just ahead of Vhagar, scrambling to get away.

You panicked, swooping down. You had hoped to manage somehow catching up to Luke before he arrived, turning him back so Aemond never saw Meraxes. But seeing Vhagar fly recklessly, her jaws open, and Aemond doing nothing to stop her, you knew you had to step in.

“Dracarys!” You screamed, pointing Meraxes towards Vhagar. You knew it wouldn’t stop her, but it would at the very least distract her. Meraxes breathed fire, cutting Aemond off from Lucerys.

“Keligon! Dohaeragon aōha āeksio!”

Stop! Serve your master!

Aemond looked to you in shock as you flew between Vhagar and Arrax, blocking Luke and Arrax from view. Vhagar tried to go around you as Aemond desperately pulled on her reigns.

“Keligon! dohaeragon aōha āeksio! Submit, Vhagar!”

You are not her equal.

Meraxes roared, spreading her wings to their full span. Her eyes were blazing, her teeth bared. She was showing her dominance, and Vhagar seemed to recognize her ancestor. They had flown together in the time of Aegon’s conquest, siblings being their riders.

Now, they were at odds, just as their riders were.

You turned to Luke, who had just narrowly escaped death.

“Go home, Luke! I will not ask again.”

He shook his head. “I won’t abandon you.”

“Lucerys, please! I’m begging you. Go home, now! There’s no time for this. I love you. Arrax, henujagon! Jikagon arlī naejot Zaldrīzesdōron. Obey!"

Leave! Go back to Dragonstone.

Meraxes roared, a sound so loud it seemed to vibrate the very air itself. Arrax submitted, turning and flying in the opposite direction, taking your brother with them. With Meraxes blocking them from Vhagar’s view, they escaped.

You kept your brother guarded, Meraxes reclaiming dominance over Vhagar. She finally submitted, going still. Aemond relaxed his hold on her reins, his eyes wide as he watched you command his dragon.

You felt nothing but rage as you hovered in the air, glaring daggers at Aemond.

“Have you lost your fucking mind? He’s my brother! My baby brother, and you were just going to murder him in cold blood? Take on the title of kinslayer? How far you have fallen, Aemond. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Aemond shook his head, still bewildered, staring at Meraxes. “H-how–”

“Meraxes was still alive, in a cave off of Dragonstone. I claimed her. She’s mine now. Tell your brother he should be scared,” you said, turning to follow your brother.

“Wait!” Aemond called, and you reluctantly listened. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him. Vhagar, she wouldn’t listen to me. I couldn’t stop her.”

“But you chose to chase Luke, did you not? Taunt him? Was it worth risking his life? You’re so lucky I arrived in time. I would never have forgiven you if you got him killed. I can hardly stand looking at you as it is. Tell me, was the King’s body even cold before your little plot to crown Aegon was put into motion?”

Aemond looked desperate, shaking his head. “I had nothing to do with that, you know I wouldn’t wish it. I despise my brother more than anyone.”

“And yet you did nothing to stop it. Are you going to look me in the eye and tell me you did your best to prevent it? Because if you did, it would be my Mother sitting on the Iron Throne, not that usurper bastard.”

He was silent, knuckles white as he gripped the reins.

You almost laughed, scoffing. “Nothing to say? Your actions today could have single handedly started an all out war. My Mother may be considering civility, but if she lost yet another child because of your selfishness, your betrayal, it would have been the spark that ended in cities drowning in blood. And it would have been all your fault.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed. “Another child? You cannot mean–”

“Yes,” you said, your voice dripping with venom. “Your mother’s betrayal nearly killed my Mother. She lost the baby…a daughter. Visenya.”

His face softened, and you willed yourself not to cry. Despite your anger, you still cared for Aemond, so deeply. It hurt, seeing him look at you with such gentleness. It hurt to still love him. Your chest was tight, your heart in your throat, and an immovable pit in your stomach. What you would have given to turn off your feelings for him at that moment.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Truly, I am. I never wished for this.”

You furiously wiped a stray tear, shaking your head. “I don’t want to hear it, Aemond, I really don’t. I can’t even stand the sight of you. Gods, to think…to think that I…”

“That you what? What, Y/N?”

Your face was cold. “To think that I was going to ask my Mother for a marriage pact, to offer to the Greens. As much as I hate you all for what you did, I couldn’t bear witnessing your deaths, all over a fucking throne. I was going to ask, so I didn’t have to see any more of our family caught in the crossfire.”

“A marriage pact? Surely you cannot mean you’d practically sell yourself into a loveless marriage just to appease my brother. To whom? To whom would you ask?”

You nearly rolled your eyes at his obliviousness. “To you, you fucking idiot. Would I ever choose anyone else?”

His eyes widened at your words, shock evident upon his face. “Me? Why in Seven Hells would you ever pick me?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” You asked. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Now he was getting angry, too. “I should say not? But do enlighten me. Why me, not anyone else?”

You nearly screamed, you were so frustrated. “Because I fucking love you, you complete and utter fool! You, and no one else, despite my best interest.”

You brought the heels of your hands to your eyes, covering them. Your voice was much softer now.

“It’s always been you. Don’t you know that?”

Aemond was in shock now, his jaw slack. He felt his heart pound at your words, watching the girl he had loved for so many years, practically offering herself up to him on a silver platter. He felt sick to his stomach.

“No,” he shook his head. “Not like that. I will not have you like that, only in it to protect your family from further harm. I will not allow you to bind yourself to me.”

You felt a sharp twinge in your chest at his words, not meeting his eyes. “I am not enough for you, then? You couldn’t find it in yourself to settle, if not for me, then for the sake of our family?”

“Settle?” He asked, exasperated. “How could you think that? Have I not made my affection for you abundantly clear over the years? You, Y/N…are more than I will ever deserve. There is not a man in this world worthy of you.”

He nearly laughed now, shaking his head. “Do you really question that? Of course I love you, too. Which is why I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

“It is not your choice, Aemond! It’s mine. And I choose you. I always have. Do not mistake the loyalty I have for my family as contempt for you. This was no one’s decision but my own. And yes, you’re right, if it is what prevents our families from further conflict, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I would have asked one day anyways, regardless of if this happened or not. You’re my family, too.”

“Then let’s ask,” he said, his voice soft, causing you to meet his gaze.

“What?”

“Let’s ask our mothers. Surely it is the best course of action. I love you, and you say you love me. If it is really true, what other choice do we have? I can think of no better proposal to return to my mother with. Our family cannot truly be at war, if we bind it further with a betrothal. What’s the worst that can happen?”

You shook your head. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I am! I’ve been waiting to hear you say those exact words for years. This is not how I imagined it to be, but I imagined it, no less.”

You were quiet for a moment, staring at him. You narrowed your eyes.

“I’m still furious with you. This changes nothing. You still betrayed me.”

“And I will spend a lifetime trying to make up for it, if our mothers allow. I know I hurt you, and there aren’t enough words I could say to tell you how sorry I am. But, please, let me try. Let me do this for us.”

Your brain was screaming, trying to tell you how irrational you were being. But your heart was aching along with it, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man you loved. You sighed, your voice thick with emotion.

“Fine. Ask your mother, and I’ll ask mine. But this is your one chance, you won’t get another. Aemond, if you so much as think of pulling something like this again, that’s it. I’ll never forgive you for it.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. I love you, Y/N. And I promise, I will spend every day trying to show you that.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, your heart aching at his words. “I love you, too. So much. Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t. I promise. Go, tend to your brother. Tell your mother, and I'll tell mine. We can do this.”

You nodded, brushing the tears off your cheeks. Aemond gave you a small smile, filled with awe and adoration. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’ll properly introduce you to Meraxes when this is over,” you said, smoothing your hand down her spine. “I think you’ll like her.”

“If she’s anything like her rider, I’m sure that’s true. Go now, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.”

You nodded, tugging Meraxes to turn around. She roared, acknowledging Vhagar, before turning to fly back in the direction of Dragonstone. Vhagar turned as well, now facing the way to King’s Landing.

You both flew in opposite directions, silently begging the Gods to show mercy on you both. You didn’t think you could handle another heartbreak if this went wrong. All you could do now was cling to Meraxes, and hope that your love for Aemond was going to be enough.

If your luck was half as good as you and Aemond’s love for each other, it would be.

—

A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry this took so long, and I’m sorry about how long it is, I got carried away. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think.

#house targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #games of thrones #game of thrones imagine

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