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divine-donna · 1 year

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Please could I request headcanons of the house of the dragon crew where a marriage is arranged between them and their childhood best friend who secretly likes them 💙💙

hi! of course you may. these took a bit longer because i moved back into my apartment for school. and requests will probably close within the next few weeks since this semester is going to be busy.

but please enjoy these head canons!

ser criston cole

ser criston is a lowborn man, thus the arrangement comes as a shock. because arranged marriages were very much a highborn thing. but considering your own background, coming from a lesser house that served as a vassal under house baratheon, it seemed to be the right choice. he wasn’t exactly happy considering that it would interfere with his oaths and duties. of course, his disappointment and coldness towards the arrangement, despite the fact that you two have known each other for years, made you upset. especially considering the fact that you have liked him for quite some time now. perhaps this is why so many marriages tend to grow bitter.

“of course i care about you (y/n), but don’t you think you deserve someone better? someone who has time for your marriage? i have oaths, duties to fulfill! i cannot get married if i aim to be a member of the kingsguard.”

daemon targaryen

marriage arrangements are pretty awful. daemon knows from experience. and despite the fact that it’s attached to you, a friend he considers dear, makes it even worse. arranged marriages are boring. domestic life never satisfied him. and he doesn’t believe that domestic life will make him more appealing. domestic life won’t give him the love he desires. part of him wonders why you agreed with this arrangement when you know full well his stance on arranged marriage. perhaps it may have something to do with the fact that you have fallen in love with him, that you want to scavenge what little of his reputation and honor he has. you were always his defender and viserys could only shake his head, advising you to not forget yourself. but you would never forget yourself nor daemon. daemon was part of you and you were willing to be the good spouse necessary to salvage what is left for him.

“it pains me to see you waste yourself over this marriage. we can simply leave. are you really satisfied being my spouse for the rest of your life, (y/n)? i care about you too much to subject you to such a miserable fate. you deserve better.”

rhaenyra targaryen

rhaenyra loves you, yes. she cares about you. you’re her best friend. or were. she hasn’t seen you for years. and this is the first time she sees you, when her father has basically sold her off to join you in marriage. nothing more infuriates her and makes her feel sick to her stomach. it hurts to see that rhaenyra is in pain, but a duty has to be fulfilled. your family wants a piece of the targaryen dynasty and using your love for the princess, as well as your connection with her, provided the perfect opportunity to sink their claws into the iron throne. you try to be as courteous as possible but rhaenyra is almost never around to talk to you. it hurts, causes your heart to shatter.

“i went flying on syrax tonight. i don’t necessarily love marriage (y/n). the idea of becoming like my mother...i do not want to entertain the thought and reality. and my father has signed away my life as if i was his chattel.”

alicent hightower

alicent mentally prepared herself for possibly being arranged to marry someone from a young age. but she especially prepared herself for a miserable marriage to a man that would not love her. so she was ecstatic when she entered the room and saw you. she could not ask for someone better! and of course, you were happy as well. you have loved her since childhood and to be able to marry her? well, it was your dream come true. it appears the gods have answered your prayers and finally granted you a wish.

“i must be honest, (y/n). i was nervous walking into that room. but my heart soared upon seeing you. i could not ask for a better partner in this world.”

aegon targaryen

to be bound to duty from birth is a miserable existence. and part of that duty is to marry. the claim for the iron throne is at stake and it is a necessity to arrange alliances ahead of time, even against his own will. his mother understood the bloodbath of westerosi politics and attempted to minimize her son’s pain with you. you became aegon’s buffer, if you will. there is not a single person who would deal with his remarks, deal with his drunken episodes, more than you. you were willing to take care of him and he would often wake up to you by his bedside. sometimes awake, sometimes asleep. and he felt guilty. extremely guilty. your family was the perfect pawn needed for the war of succession, to cement his hold on westeros and the iron throne. he knew you loved him. it was no secret. you were horrible at keeping your emotions in check. you deserved not to be his buffer. you deserved to be with him without any malice behind the arrangement.

“i cannot promise to fulfill my duties. not all of them anyways. the people expect certain duties from me. there is a target at my back. and you can leave any time you want. you don’t have to stay. but if you do, know that i love you and do not stay behind for me. i am already a dead man.”

aemond targaryen

aemond meant it when he said he would fulfill his duty. he was an honorable man. you know this from childhood and part of you wished that you two were betrothed. you would do anything for your best friend and you were so hopelessly in love with him. he didn’t realize it when he was younger, but aegon did. and aegon taunted you with remarks about how you two would never be together. oh how he was wrong. so wrong. aemond showed up at your house’s seat with a rolled up piece of parchment and a demand to pledge loyalty to aegon ii. of course, your family rightfully asked what was in it for them, especially because they kept their oaths and swore fielty to rhaenyra. a marriage pact. with (y/n). is what he said. and you swore your heart almost stopped. it was a tempting offer, but you begged your family to let you marry him. they were no stranger to your strong feelings for the one-eyed prince and it looked like rhaenyra’s faction would be defeated. so with hesitancy, they swear fidelity to aegon ii and aemond takes you back with him to king’s landing. his hold on your hand the entire ride is gentle and you notice the smallest bit of pink painting his cheeks.

“i apologize for the...suddenness of this arrangement, (y/n). i advised my mother to let me marry you and convinced her. not only is your house necessarily for securing allegiance, but i...have loved you for some time. there are few people who took care of me when i was younger. i wanted to pay my debt.”

helaena targaryen

many people would not want to marry helaena targaryen, believing her to be peculiar and already declaring her a spinster for her lack of interest in more domestic activities. you, however, love her for her interest. after all, she helped you get over your fear of bugs. you’ve been in love with her since. so when you were given the chance to marry her, you took it. helaena was surprised when her mother said your name and you walked in, pride ingrained within your posture. she couldn’t help but rejoice in private, for a miserable life of marriage would not be her future. instead, it would be with someone who cared for her and hugged her tenderly.

“please stay over tonight, (y/n). i miss your touch. it has been a long time since we have layed like this. your lap is still as comfortable as ever. i do not want this day to end.”

jacaerys velaryon

it’s important to have some sort of grasp on the houses in westeros. many of them swore fidelity, but rhaenyra knows how they really think of her. a woman sitting upon the iron throne is inconceivable. but she had a strategy and sent her son over with a list of demands, asking for fidelity from your family. your family was very influential and perhaps could sway the region to swear fidelity to rhaenyra. and she sent someone you have loved since you were a child: jace. you were surprised to see him in your home. but the offer was something that you had wanted since you were younger: marriage to him. you were ecstatic and so was your family, so of course they agreed. and when you met him later that night, he revealed that he was happy to be marrying someone he knew.

“most people tend to not meet their betrothed until their wedding ceremony. or a little before that. i have the fortune of being betrothed to you, to someone who accepts me as i am.”

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd headcanons #ser criston #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon the usurper #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #requests are open

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sleepparalysisdemon112 · 2 years

Text

Betrothal pt. 2

Pairing: Aemond x Y/n

part 2 to my drabble Betrothal

A/N thank you for the love on my last post, this is not very good and cri gy in some parts, but I hope you still enjoy, once more I am a new writer and simply testing things out, thank you! not proofread btw

Warnings: blood, violence, cringy writing, enemies to lovers, fluff close to the end smut in next chapter

Summary: You have officially married you enemy, now what?

The day of the wedding was one I dreaded entirely.

The week leading up to the wedding we barely spoke, the kiss was enough of a draining experience for a week's worth of socialization. Although something did seem to be different, very slightly, but different. His glares toward me were more of one of an acquaintance, unsure of the person, the loom you give when you are unaware if the person is friend or foe, and that was better than one of hatred.

On the day of the wedding, a feast was held once more all in good fun, with only minimal arguments and occasional violence in the swarm of dancers. The exchanging of vows was most definitely the most nerve-racking experience of my life.

Once the vows, the kiss, and the finals of feasts were complete, we were left alone in our chambers for the night. I lay set up in the plush bed book in hand, I had not much interest in the text, my reading skills were not superb and the material was on older philosophies that had already been proven to be true in present-day times. I was cold but unable to bring myself under the blankets, my night dress a simple piece of silk covering the majority of my body.

When he entered the room, I cursed myself for not yet being asleep. “You are on my side,” he announced.

Without bringing much attention to his remark I responded, “I’m surprised you are not lurching at the very idea of sharing a bed with me,”

He only smirked, “Well, although you are not my most favorite of people I am not a man of dishonor, and as you are my wife I will accept what comes with that,”

I knew better, but I suppose since seeing him again and now being wed I simply couldn’t hold my tongue. I placed the book down on the wooden table beside the bed and sat higher up leaning off the pillows, “and why is that dear husband, why have you never liked me?”

He sighed and sat on the brown chair in the corner of the room, dismissing my question “As your wife, I deserve an answer Aemond,” I rose from the bed and walked over to his chair standing in front of him, as his eyes moved up to stare me down to up. At that moment I felt utterly bare.

“In our youth, I was never once rude to you until you were to me, I had never spoken a word of filth to you and yet you have always treated me with such hatred,” Aemond sat up from the chair causing me to step back, He only gave me one final look, and a simple swipe of a hair from my face before leaving the room, and leaving me in complete confusion.

—-----------------------------------------

The next day was, as usual, avoid each other unless it was seen necessary we were seen together. Later on the day, we are expected to be at the king's family dinner and dance, he stated it was simply for family bonding and to get to know all of the new people in the family.

The day went slow and when it was time for the dinner to begin everyone took their spots at the table and waited for the food to be presented.

I was sat next to Aemond and everyone else besides their husbands or wives. We ate, we laughed, we drank and most all was well, surprisingly Aemond gave me no fuss, he simply observed over the room as he usually does and I talked to Lucerys and Prince Daemond’s Daughters.

It was the dance that caused the chaos. All was well I danced with Aemond when it was seen fit and the rest of the time I sat and drank. It was until I noticed Aemond acting odd for an unknown reason he stood near the wall by the guards talking to Ser Criston Cole before I watched as another guard approached him and whispered in Aemond’s ear. I watched closely before seeing Aemond begin approaching a Lord I did not know the name of and pull out his sword, before swiftly slicing the throat of the man the blood of the man spewing everywhere before his body dropped to the floor.

I stood up from my chair in shock as many others gasped and the room turned to silence.

“This man was observed speaking filth of my lady wife for the third time tonight, and I shall not tolerate it,” Aemond announced to everyone around. Visery’s immediately called the dance to be over and gave an order for everyone to leave the ballroom.

—-------------------------------------------

By the time I was back in our chamber I was very aware of a feeling of nausea in my entire body, I paced the cold floor back and forth waiting for him to appear in our chamber.

When the door opened and a bloody Aemond hastily walked in and stopped on the account of my presence I began my rant, “Aemond do you have any idea what you just did?”

He slightly rolled his eyes and began to speak, “Yes, and I hold no regrets for any of my actions,”

“Was I supposed to allow him to say what he did about you, and not do anything about it?”

“We could have let him off with simple punishment, there was no need for an execution,”

“Believe what you choose dear wife, but I believe I gave him the appropriate punishment,”

“For someone who accuses me to hate me so dearly it almost seems like you do not,” I speak lowly, but he can still hear me. “My wife, I must admit, I have always shown coldness to you, but I do not hate you and I never will no matter how much I hate myself for it,”

I approach him slowly and stand chest to chest with him looking up into his eyes, “Why must you be ashamed to accept me?”

“Because in all truth you have always been better than me, you’ve made me weak and I couldn’t allow myself to be around you because if I did I feared you would consume me, and I wouldn’t be able to let go,”

I stood in shock and could only stare up at him.

#Aemond #aemond targaryen #Aemond imagine #Aemond drabble #Aemond fluff #Aemond smut #Aegon #House of the dragon #hotd #got #game of thrones #hotd smut #hotd imagine #got smut #enemies to lovers #smut #fluff #imagine #drabble

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chipotle-aristotle-sonz · 7 months

Text

The Plight of the First-born Son

Pressure doesn't always lead to the creation of diamonds. Or, in which Aegon is crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms. ----- “What kind of a brother steals his sister’s birthright?”

Dialogue from House of the Dragon and Fire and Blood by George R. R. Martin is used.

3.8k words.

Spoilers for future events in hotd!!!

Wow, what a depraved loser lol

Aegon's character is much more complex than it is depicted in the show (as of yet). So, as seen here, I have a headcanon that Aegon really tries to be a decent King until Blood and Cheese happens. I've also elected to ignore the moment when Rhaenys comes up through the floor on Meleys because wtf. So the beast Helaena is referring to is Aegon and B&C, and not the dragon Meleys.

@/joobobby on ao3!

---

“Aegon at first refused to be a part of his mother's plans to crown him, insisting Rhaenyra was heir. However, Ser Criston Cole, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, convinced him that should Rhaenyra take the throne, Aegon and his brothers would be executed. Eustace insists that only this persuaded him to take the crown.” (A Wiki of Ice and Fire)

Aegon lay there shrouded in darkness, drifting in and out of consciousness, his favoured Arbor red wine warming his belly and fogging his mind.

The shrine the prince was stashed under by the White Worm was uncomfortable, but he was too inebriated to care. It was better, safer than being in the castle. There, he was free of the eyes of his family, of his mother. There, he was free to drink himself to death; a sinful wastrel, shielded from his doom under the watchful and judging eyes of the Gods.

‘Their gaze still remains kinder than that of Mother’s.’

Just as Aegon was finally and mercifully granted his ever-desired peaceless sleep, he was ripped from the safety of his hiding spot in the Grand Sept by two pairs of hands.

‘It seems even the Gods cannot bring themselves to favour me.’

The stumbling prince, with a mind still heavily affected by his syrupy sweet poison, and eyes struggling to adjust to the light of the Sept, was held up and jostled about by the twins: Sers Arryk and Erryk Cargyll, Knights of the Kingsguard.

“Where is the White Worm?” The prince muttered with a shaky voice as panic began to settle in him.

“She sold you for a price,” one of the twins replied, struggling to keep him still. The drunkard was certain he was going to be sick if they kept this up. ‘Just keep me fucking still at least.’

“And why have you paid it?” Aegon said with a pained and slurred voice, his mind still far too sluggish and stuck on the betrayal. He needed to feel safe again, to feel some form of comfort. As the twins failed to answer, he began to wonder if a single soul was willing to favour him just once. Or if he even deserved to be favoured, protected.

“I want my mother.”

‘The mother who hates you, hits you, is disgraced by your very being, and claims that you are no son of hers?’

/////

As the two renowned knights dragged and pushed the future King through the great doors of the Grand Sept and to his fate, Aegon froze. The prince, who could barely stand on his own two feet in his current predicament, saw his golden opportunity to escape their clutches, in the form of none other than his mother’s two golden boys.

There, before the warring trio, stood the fearsome Prince Aemond “One-Eye”, younger brother to Aegon, and Ser Criston Cole of the Kingsguard.

Elation took over, and Aegon suddenly elbowed the twins, leaving them to Ser Criston. He fled, a crazed giggle escaping him as he zig-zagged his way down the steps and toward his freedom… Short-lived freedom.

‘Fucking Aemond.’

His younger brother, much taller than he, tackled him to the ground.

Aegon, still consumed by his fit of manic giggles, thought that this must look ridiculous to any onlookers. Two Targaryen princes, one to be crowned King and supposed to be the very image of power and royalty, rolling about on the ground, both trying to gain the upper hand. ‘Do I strike the image of Aegon the Conqueror?’

“I was hoping you disappeared,” drawled Aemond “One-Eye”, ever the good soldier and perfect son, tasked with the burden of searching for his drunken fool of a brother. ‘The pompous twat can’t even bring himself to look at me.’

“Is our father truly dead?”

“Yes. And they’re going to make you king,” he spat back, holding Aegon down with ease, his usually carefully coiffed hair unkempt. ‘Not so perfect now,’ Aegon thought, bitter and spiteful glee consuming him. And Aegon, ever the menace and in an attempt to escape him, spat in Aemond’s remaining eye. Cruel satisfaction took over as he heard Aemond let out a loud sound of disgust and annoyance, and he got to his feet. Yet again, in vain.

“Let me go!” He screamed and struggled against Aemond’s arms, desperation slowly overcoming him, “Brother!”

The prince could not stop screaming, pleading for Aemond to release him. ‘I cannot rule, brother, please! Surely you must see this too.’

“I have no wish to rule! I have no taste for duty, I’m not suited!”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” came his voice from behind him. And, in a frantic last-resort effort, Aegon whirls around in his little brother’s arms and grasps his face in his hands, cradling him and begging for him to see reason.

“Let me go, and I’ll find a ship and sail away, never to be found,” he implored, certain he resembled a madman. Aegon knew he had no real right to ask this of him. For the two Targaryen princes never really knew or understood each other enough for love to be felt. In truth, Love seemed to be a mere obligation for the Targaryen royal family. Alas, the first-born son was desperate. And he would plead to the little brother he could’ve adored for his freedom.

They remained like that for a few moments. ‘There,’ Aegon thought, as hope overcame him. There, as they stood and stared at each other, Aegon saw the seeds of temptation take root in his brother’s mind. Aegon could feel another fit of deranged laughter bubbling up inside as he saw the prospect of a new life start to take shape in his mind. A life free of his family and a life for his family, free of him. He watched with bated breath as the ever-dutiful son flirted with the alluring opportunity to have what he, as the second-born son, could never have; what he's always wanted. Power, success, and respect that he didn’t need to work tirelessly to gain… The Iron Throne practically in his grasp. ‘Let this be my gift to you, little brother. We were unable to find common ground growing up. Let this be proof enough that, if born and raised in different circumstances, I could’ve loved you as you were and are. You were always more suited for the responsibilities of being King… Even Mother believes it to be true… Perhaps I only ever envied you.’

But alas, it really did seem that even the merciful Seven could not bring themselves to shine their light upon the soon-to-be Usurper King.

Ser Criston Cole, victorious in the confrontation with the twins, approached the two princes, placing a hand on Aegon’s shoulder.

“The Queen awaits,” Criston said, ever Her Grace’s loyal lap dog. ‘Do you never tire of being my mother’s bitch, Cole?’

Aegon had to quickly compose himself as he felt a rapidly forming lump in his throat, “Rhaenyra is heir to the throne, not me, Cole. What kind of a brother steals his sister’s birthright?” he spat, the realisation that he would still be crowned making him pale. ‘Maybe if I throw up on them, I could escape. Tempting.’

“The kind of brother who would not wish for his brothers, sister-wife, mayhaps even children to be put to the sword, my Prince. The Bitch Queen would not hesitate to execute you all if it meant ridding herself of any challenge to her and her bastard’s succession. I am afraid you must come back to the castle, willingly or not. These are the Queen’s orders.”

And as all memories, ‘Or lack thereof’, of himself, his family and Rhaenyra came rushing to the surface, Aegon the Usurper found himself being guided by Ser Criston and Aemond back to the Red Keep. ‘She’s never truly liked us, that much is evident… Please, at least try to forgive me, sister.’

(Another relationship gutted by the cursed steel of the Iron Throne.)

/////

The rest of that fateful day was a foggy mess to Aegon. He could vaguely remember being force-fed some bread, and the rest of his memories are of him and Helaena just sitting in awkward, heavy silence, both preparing to meet their maker on the morrow. ‘Crowned King and Queen of Westeros before the eyes of thousands. Both not wanting the burden… Well, there is no telling or saying with certainty what Helaena ever wants; perhaps aside from more bugs to fill her collection and the void in her lonely heart.’

On the day of the coronation, Aegon found himself slumped in a carriage alongside his mother, the now-Dowager Queen Alicent, staring blankly at the bleak wall, hungover and ready to face his doom.

“Have the decency to look grateful. Do you know what has been done to give you this day?” Queen Alicent began, leaning over to converse with the son she loved dearly but could not bring herself to like, “In an hour you will be King.”

“And my father never wanted this.”

“That’s not true,” she sighed, sounding exhausted. (The cloak of righteousness weighs heavy on the shoulders and heart, Lady Hightower.)

(“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are.”)

“He had twenty years to name me heir and never did. Steadfastly, he upheld Rhaenyra’s claim,” he said, a disbelieving smile slowly making its way onto his face.

“He changed his mind.”

“No,” Aegon chuckled, unable to accept or begin to comprehend his mother’s delusions, “No, he could have but he never did. Because he didn’t like me.”

‘Because he really didn’t like me. Could never even bother to give me or any of us the time of day.’

Alicent at least had the decency to soften her gaze, a part of her well aware of Viserys’ lack of desire to bond with his children by her. (‘I could never be his first wife Aemma. You could never be his first-born Rhaenyra’), “And yet, with his final breath, he whispered to me that you should take his place on the throne.”

Aegon had to look away when faced with the absolute lunacy of her claim, still chuckling with unshed tears in his eyes.

‘He couldn’t even bring himself to feel a shred of worry when Rhaenyra’s bastard attacked Aemond and cut his eye out, Mother. Rather preferring to shout at Aemond and I for calling them bastards… which they are. We were yelled at, and the little princeling, Luke who removed Aemond’s eye, got nothing. You had to take justice into your own hands to protect your son from your husband’s idiocy. Do you not recall this, Mother?’

His train of thought was interrupted when Alicent offered him a box; inside, his father’s dagger lay on soft velvet, gleaming at him. ‘The dagger you grasped when you ran at Rhaenyra, demanding for the debt to be paid. To protect your golden boy.’

“Do not toy with me, Mother,” he muttered, a warning, a plea on his tongue.

“I speak the truth,” she whispered, begging for him to believe her.

(She had had enough of being made to look like a fool and crazed woman by her husband. ‘He spoke to me of a male babe, born to him, wearing the Conqueror’s crown. A babe I gave him. Not Aemma. Me.’)

With his mouth slightly agape, Aegon hesitantly yet gently took hold of the dagger, smiling in both disbelief and joy. The joy belonging to the young boy he mourned daily. The boy, greedy and eager to accept any morsel of his father’s love and acceptance offered to him.

The boy soon-to-be King was so elated and dubious, that he was unable to even fully listen to his mother’s ramblings about not ruling with cruelty and callousness, and sparing Rhaenyra. The obvious tension between their half-sister and their mother never went unnoticed by Aegon and his siblings.

(Alicent had often looked as though she had seen a ghost, the voice of a young girl expressing her desire to fly with her on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake becoming too all-encompassing.)

As she continued, a question, the question to end all questions nagged at him.

‘Before you charged at Rhaenyra in defence of your son, you slapped me and yelled at me for not being with Aemond, for not protecting him, when I was nowhere near the scene of the crime.

‘You grabbed my face and screamed at me that I was the challenge to Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne, simply by living and breathing. Simply by being born, by being alive.

‘You slapped me and claimed with certainty and scorn that I was no son of yours. I cried that I have always tried so hard, but I would never ever be enough for you or Father.’

“Do you love me?” He asked hesitantly, with unshed tears in his eyes.

And the first-born son waited with bated breath for his beloved mother’s reply.

‘Please. I implore you, say, “Yes, of course I do. You are my son. I love you. I am sorry.” Please, mother.’

“You imbecile.” (‘Yes, of course I do. You are my son.’)

(Love is the death of Duty, and Duty is the death of Love, Lady Hightower. Which do you favour?)

/////

The Dragonpit was cold, dark, and damp, the familiar setting did nothing to quell the dread in the spouses' hearts. Helaena had ridden with Otto and Aemond, and there she stood stiffly next to Aegon, her brother-husband, nervously fiddling with her hands and picking at her skin.

Aegon, though experiencing the sinking feeling of unease, was distracted from descending into further madness by Helaena’s mumblings of, “Beware the beast beneath the boards.”

When he had the patience for her (‘and for life without the sweet release of alcohol’), he would oft wonder what she saw in these times. ‘Can anyone help? Do you experience clear visions? No, if you did, you would make more sense. You would turn it into advice and not pathetic and unsettling mumblings.’

(Helaena could hear the screams of hundreds, of thousands. Men, women, and children. She felt paralysing grief, pain, and anger. She could see and taste red, blood, ‘Too much blood’.)

The siblings were both startled out of their thoughts by the sound of applause, swiftly followed by trumpets, the piercing sound cutting through the air and drawing blood. Helaena let out a small sound of displeasure before covering her ears, and screwing her eyes shut. They had heard the faint echoes of their grandsire’s booming voice, Otto Hightower, speaking to the thousands of smallfolk crammed into the Dragonpit; readying them to welcome their future King and Queen Consort.

The murmuring and the shuffling heard were sign enough for Aegon to quietly whisper to his sister that they were required to walk (‘To our deaths’). Helaena let out a shaky breath, before turning towards her husband.

‘My troubled sister, my beautifully sad wife, the mother to my children, my burden, and my could’ve-been pride and supporter.’

(‘My troubled brother, my drunken husband, my tormentor, and my could’ve-been love and supporter.’)

The two Targaryen royals stared at each other, their flaws of no importance at that moment. Helaena tentatively grasped his shaking hand with hers.

And together they walked to the executioner’s block, through the carefully choreographed archway of swords, with tears in their eyes and resignation written on their faces. Helaena tilted her head downwards, staring at her feet, desperate to ignore all the eyes on her, and Aegon held his high, staring at his family standing on the platform. Gods on a pedestal.

Aemond: the rigid and unmoving soldier and striking the image of the Warrior, face set in stone and gaze soft as he stared at Helaena. ‘Ever the fierce protector, never acknowledged for it’.

Mother: pious, proud, and perturbed.

(She could hear the voice of a young girl expressing her desire to fly with her on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake.

‘My children… This is for you.’)

Grandfather: cunning and victorious; a second son awarded the Iron Throne. A Hightower gifted Targaryen greatness.

Helaena felt sick; Aegon’s tears had long fallen. The Usurper held his head high, staring at his family with both a wild anger and a fierce determination to make them proud.

“It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this: a new day for our city. A new day for our Realm. A new King to lead us,” Otto’s voice boomed, a sick and poisonous pride in his eyes. Aegon and Helaena had finished their walk, finally reaching the platform after what seemed an eternity.

The Dowager Queen placed kisses upon their foreheads. (May the Father judge you justly and protect you: his children. May the Mother guide you, shield you, and love you.) Otto nodded to his grandson and placed a comforting hand on his granddaughter's shoulder. Aemond stared as Helaena flinched. (‘She does not always welcome physical contact. Leave her be.’)

As Aegon knelt before Ser Criston, he was struck with the sudden image of his head meeting the sharp edge of Criston’s sword. ‘Executed before the masses and the eyes of the Gods for being a depraved, drunken lecher and an undeserving fool.’

“The crown of the Conqueror passed down through generations. Let the Seven bear witness. Aegon Targaryen is the true Heir to the Iron Throne,” shouted Criston, placing the black crown adorned with rubies upon Aegon’s head with the blessing of the Septon.

Alicent Hightower crowned Helaena with a similar yet smaller circlet of dark metal and blood-red rubies and gifted her with another kiss on her forehead after hearing her low ramblings of, “Beware the beast beneath the boards.” (‘You are beyond my understanding, sweet girl.’)

The spouses stood together again, and Aegon noted the sad and apprehensive look on his wife’s face as they looked to their family members to bow their heads and accept them as their new King and Queen Consort. Her mutterings were becoming more frequent, and her nails were practically ripped of their skin.

“All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, and Her Grace, Helaena, Queen Consort, and Lady of the Seven Kingdoms!”

Aegon and Helaena slowly turned, rigid and separate as Otto Hightower announced them to the smallfolk. The bells chimed. ‘The bells of The Stranger, the call of Death.’

“Aegon the King!” bellowed Ser Criston, bowing his head.

Heavy, suffocating silence ensued, the stuffy air in the Dragonpit making it hard to breathe. He could feel Helaena growing restless next to him. But then… applause.

Wild applause broke out, and cries of, “King Aegon!”, “Queen Helaena!” and, “Long live the King!” could be heard. Aegon found himself shocked but exhilarated. The cries, the smiles, the tears, little children perched on their parents’ shoulders and waving to royalty. ‘This… this is what it feels like to be loved without expectations, without regret, anger, sadness, or fear. Without conditions to be met. They don’t know me and they love me for me.’

Aegon made a show of unsheathing the Conqueror’s sword, Blackfyre, and raised the mighty weapon, a small smile grazing his face and his confidence growing. He almost felt drunk. ‘Maybe I can do this... I will try. I will try to do good by you’.

The last piece of the puzzle was grasping onto Helaena’s, his Queen’s, hand and raising it up high. The applause and cheers only grew in grandeur, much like him. ‘Forgive me for the sudden contact, sister, but they love you.’

(‘Beware the beast beneath the boards.’)

(Aegon, the beast, ripped from beneath his shrine and to be marched to the executioner’s block.)

/////

Her crown was removed with shaking hands and placed on the table with a loud clunk. Helaena, his Queen, looked at the cursed circlet with apprehension and resignation. ‘She has accepted her lot in life,’ Aegon mused, trying not to feel irritated by her continued ramblings, ‘She does not yet understand this blessing, but she will, in time.’

(Helaena could hear the screams of hundreds, of thousands. Men, women, and children. She felt paralysing grief, pain, and anger. She could see and taste red, blood. ‘I have usurped my sister’s throne… Beware the beast beneath the boards. Beware the beast that roams the skies. Beware the beasts that maim, hurt, and kill. Dragons of flesh. The flesh of dragons. Death’s Dance is relentless and unkind.’)

After the coronation ceremony, the newly crowned King and Queen mounted their dragons, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre, and flew circuits around the city of King’s Landing, to show the smallfolk who couldn’t be crammed into the Dragonpit that they had a new King to lead them.

Now, there they stood, in their chambers, staring at the weighty crown and what it represented.

One believing it to be a gift, the other a damning curse.

After a while, Aegon finally realised that her mumblings were only getting worse with her distress. With a sigh, he said, “I know what we can do. We can go to the nursery and stay with the children. They always make you feel better,” with a small smile, feeling as though he were speaking to a child. His mother used to pull him and Aemond aside when they were younger, telling them that Helaena’s mind doesn’t work in the same way as theirs. (“Tread lightly, little ones. She isn’t to be blamed for speaking in riddles”).

In truth, Aegon had never been quite patient with her. But it was a time of new beginnings. ‘I will try. I will try to do good by you, sister.’

“Let us see Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor. They will love to see their mother,” Aegon the Usurper said softly. When she raised her head, a moment of fleeting sadness crossed her face before she regained her spark, a smile grazing her face and her murmurs growing less frequent. Unsure of himself and in unfamiliar territory, he tentatively cradled her face, wiping some drying tears from her cheeks. ‘My beautifully sad wife. You do not yet understand this blessing, but you will, in time.'

(‘Beware the beast beneath the boards.’)

(Blood and Cheese, one a butcher, the other a ratcatcher, familiar with the secret passageways and tunnels of the Red Keep. Together, ordered by Daemon Targaryen, they were to slay six-year-old Jaehaerys, King Aegon’s and Queen Helaena’s first-born son, in retaliation to the Prince Lucerys' death at the hands of Aemond Targaryen.

A Son for a Son.)

–

(The only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon was itself.)

#house of the dragon #hotd #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic

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crimsonbastard · 10 months

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The Duality of Targ Stans:

#anti team black #anti Targaryens #anti maegor the Cruel #ser criston cole deserves better #ser criston cole #anti targ stans

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xxpeppermintxx109 · 1 year

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This new chapter mint..omg. i have thoughts and feelings.

My baby boy snapped. All those conflicting, big emotions for so long, for years! All the religious guilt over his love and relationship with her, the torturous terror of her collapsed bleeding on the floor possibly to die, to be lost before he even had a chance to live with her, before she even had an opportunity to live for herself. Betrayed and poisoned by her mother's enemies through no fault of her own, a woman who never had and never would hurt anyone. How was Aemond supposed to not snap under all this pressure that had been building for so long? How could someone try and hurt so maliciously and so intentionally someone so good, someone he loved, someone innocent, one of the people -very few people- in the world that Aemond allows himself to be vulnerable for? And after all the fight he put up trying to bury his feelings and refuse his want for her? Only for her to be hurt so just right when they both made the choice for themselves, to be together so bravely and put their love first? And then someone dares gloat about poisoning her? About her being a bastard? A whore? What a blasphemy! Of course Aemond pulverised his face.

Nobody knows how much those accusations hurt her! What being called a bastard does to a person, especially one so sensitive as her. To be called a whore when you've only shown your love to one person, a pure, earnest, honest and wholehearted, innocent love. To have that soft and personal truth turned into a mockery? By her would be assassin?

Aemond snapped. He deserved it. He earned it. It was not a smart or political move but love and interpersonal relationships rather rarely abide by such rational rules.

This chapter was all heart dude.

And the study if you will -i do- of fatherhood and fatherly figures?

Soft and excitable and fun Laenor. Her father as she knew him her whole life.

Soft spoken, steady and present Harwin, spending time with his true daughter, the only girl he ever had so different from his boys but worthy of so much love all the same.

Love grows. Love always grows. Love doesn't end or run out. Of course they're all her fathers, why, she loved them all as such.

Viserys enjoying her company. Yet another father -now as a grandfather unburdened by the anxieties of having heirs and sons-.

And the parallels between Aemond and Criston. Cole thinks himself valiant and self-righteously believes his murder of Ser Joffrey to be pure and called for. His slight against Cole at that vulnerable state was enough to grant him death. Aemond however acted out of love for another, not our of scorned pride or feelings of rejection and jealousy.

Criston thinks themselves to be in similar situations though Aemond is handling a whole other beast.

Criston thinks Aemond delusional and under some spell, acting irrationally. I would argue -murder and feral rage aside- that this is one of the most earnest displays of Aemond's true self that Criston has witnessed in a while. This is that protective part of him, what he was brought up to be. A protector to his family, devout to his beliefs, in service of those who need him, just and fair and capable.

Criston doesn't much know Aemond only the aspects he was trying to impress upon him growing up when they are reflected back. But this he cannot understand because he fundamentally sees Shaera as lesser, as the truth to Rhaenyra's infidelity and lack of morals and cunning and cruelty.

Also, Aemond observing what a healthy or I should better say more open mother- child relationship is, is heartbreaking. The way he is intrigued and confused by the openness, the freedom of expression, the physicality of Rhaenyra's relationship with Shaera. By the open affection and softness and ease between them. That boy deserved so much and Alicent deserved an environment in which she could give provide it to her children.

Also Aemond being told by Aegon that his egg would never hatch. It being said probably often enough and with the authority of the older, wiser, adored and respected brother. He just straight up believed it. What did that do to a young boy who is simultaneously being told that becoming a dragon rider is his birth right and destiny and duty?

That just by being a Targaryen he is entitled to his dragon but also His egg will never hatch... By his older brother who has already by that point I'm assuming claimed Sunfyre.

And to see the only other person dragonless being his -according to adults- worthless niece? She is a bastard after all, she isnt a Targaryen. No wonder Aemond looks so conflicted around her. So frustrated. He is also projecting his frustration with himself onto her while also not really disliking her. They are children, they grow up together. Children aren't mean. They aren't hurtful. They learn how to act like it and by the time they're adults they've become it eventually.

But at that point, when they're both so young and so... they're just learning what's what in the world around them. Their dynamic is so tense from the beginning exactly because of that! Adults stop letting children down challenge.

And also! A girl unworthy etc etc gets more love that he ever did? She gets affection and soft touches and sweet words and laughter and fooling around with her mother? Why isn't he? Isn't he trying enough? What is he doing wrong? He is the one who is supposed to be worthy of things. Why must he try twice as hard to get half as much? Poor Aemond.

And he overcomes all that, he finds his way to her, he loves her, he adores her though he cannot name it yet. He is all in for her. AND TO HAVE HER TAKEN AWAY? To have her hurt!??! In such a craven manner by his own family's hand, (pun intended). By the people who's expectations he has been exceeding for his whole life, whom he lives to serve alongside his Gods. His Gods who btw teach the correct message it just gets twisted and fucked by the prejudices and the societal norms of his time and ofc by the deep rooted animosity amongst their family.

My boy snapped and he deserved it.

Mint... Bless you.

Bestie, this is absolutely beautifully written and so on point. I’m just gonna leave this here for everyone to read because it was so incredible <3

#green lies black hearts #greenliesblackheartswip

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mrstabbymcshooty · 6 months

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HotD thoughts.

If I had to pick between team black and team green I’m picking team black.

In reality I’m team everybody sucks.

HOWEVER

You can be team Black and also team:

Alicent deserved better.

And

Rhaenyra sexually assaulted Ser Criston Cole

#misty speaks #house of the dragon #team black #team green

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house-of-daenerys · 2 years

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Rhaenys & Rhaenyra

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aebi12 · 1 year

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Sinful Desires - Chapter 10

Alyssa loses count of the times she sings for him.

When her mind cannot remember any more songs and her throat is so dry from not stopping, she starts telling him stories. Despite the years that have passed, she still remembers his favorites, so she narrates them in a low voice, trying to remember the exact events about the Age of Heroes and the strange legends of the children of the forest.

Her persistence seems to have a positive effect on him because he has long since stopped writhing in his bed and, when Alyssa places her hand on his forehead, his skin no longer feels febrile. Relief floods her body as she wipes the beads of sweat from his face and a thank you to the gods escapes her lips.

Alyssa gets out from the bed and sits in the chair where she had found Helaena several hours ago. The candles and the fire in the fireplace have almost gone out, causing the room to be bathed in a dim light that makes her feel sleepy, and she fights the urge to close her eyes and sleep. She has to resist. She has to stay awake and continue to care for Aemond.

The princess drinks some water, clears her throat, and fixes her gaze on him again, the feeling of vulnerability he projects engulf her once more. For an instant, Alyssa sees before her the boy he used to be. Young Aemond, with his determined and arrogant manner, wearing his regal green robes and projecting a strong and unperturbed appearance to all.

But not for her.

Alyssa still remembers his shy smiles when she surprised him with some stolen snack from the kitchens, she also remembers the books he had read to her when she told him she wanted to know more about the history of the seven kingdoms, she remembers the times they had thought about the names they would have given their dragons if their eggs had hatched.

The sun begins to rise and the princess is lost in her memories until the door is flung open and Alicent Hightower enters the room. The young woman stands up immediately and the expression of astonishment on the Queen Mother when she notices Alyssa's presence is even comical for a few seconds.

"In the Mother's name, what are you doing here?" she demands to know as she strides over to Aemond's bed. The queen continues with her questions without giving her time to answer, “How did you get in? What have you done to my son? Ser Criston!"

The new lord Commander of the Kingsguard instantly enters upon hearing Alicent's panicked voice. The knight has one hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend the queen immediately. For some reason the image transports her to the night Aemond lost his eye, specifically to the confidence with which Alicent had invoked the safety of her sworn sword and the determination Ser Criston had shown at all times to protect her. Alyssa smirks at the memory and a smug little noise that the queen interprets as disdain escapes her throat.

"You have the nerve to mock after what you did to the prince" exclaims the woman

"I did nothing to him that he did not deserve", Alyssa says, unable to contain her temper. Ser Criston takes a few steps towards her and she steps back before saying quickly, “I came here to take care of Aemond at Helaena's request. You should call your maester, the fever has passed and I think he is better”

Alicent stops watching her and focuses her exam on her son. Aemond continues with his eye closed but his breathing is even and his mien looks noticeably healthier. Alyssa insists, “I have been here since nightfall, I have had a hundred chances to kill him, but I did not. That is not my intention"

"Ser Criston, call maester Runciter" she finally orders after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Is it wise, my queen, to leave you here alone with the princess?" Cole asks.

Alicent looks at the knight and nods resolutely, “I can control the princess if I need to. Besides, Ser Arryk is at the door in case she has any tricks” she says the last thing looking at Alyssa, who bites her tongue to avoid responding as she would like.

Ser Criston abandons the room and Alicent leaves Aemond's bed and walks over to where Alyssa is.

"Why are you here, princess?"

“I already told you, your grace. Helaena asked me to take care of him."

"Yes, my daughter had the impression that your closeness would help him in some way"

Alyssa doesn't know what to say to that so she just stays quiet until the queen speaks again.

"Were you watching his sleep all night?" she asks after examining her face

“I sang for him too,” she admits.

"Prince Aemond doesn't like songs, he didn't even like them when he was a boy."

Alicent sighs, tilting her face back toward her son's bed, and an unfathomable sadness settles in her expression, which throws Alyssa off balance. While looking at the queen's face, which shows deep circles under her eyes that denote her tiredness, the girl has the impression that this is the first time she has seen Alicent as a real person because, despite having known her all her life, the queen has always been an aloof, authoritative figure, a name spoken without affection by her mother and stepfather... but she has never been what she sees now, a woman, a mother who seems on the verge of collapsing with worry.

"I feel that I owe you an apology," she says without thinking, "I did not intend to hurt Aemond." Alicent observes her again, her eyebrows raised and her expression of distrust clearly let the young woman know that the queen does not believe in her words. She sighs, frustration arises inside, the need to justify herself is stronger than her, causing her words to come out in a rush, "I lost control for a moment. I am not a violent person, I would never hurt someone intentionally, but the impression on what happened with…” Alyssa shudders and shakes her head. She can't think of him. Not now, "The news I received caused me a great pain and shock and it was horrible what I did and I am deeply sorry"

Alyssa looks down for a moment, fighting the desire to shed the tears that flood her eyes. When she finally calms down, she breathes deeply and faces the queen, meeting once again with Alicent's sad look and, for a moment, she has the impression that the woman is not really looking at her, but it seems that she is lost in her own world. Alyssa only observes her until the queen leaves her trance and fiddles nervously with her rings.

"I'm sorry too, princess. It was never my intention for things to get to this point. I tried to find a peaceful solution, to deliver terms that your mother would be willing to accept, but…” Her gaze returns to her son's bed. She doesn't need to finish speaking because Alyssa understands. Any chance of peace was gone the instant Aemond had killed her brother.

The maester interrupts the silence in which they had been sunk when he rushes in. Ser Criston enters after him and his gaze falls on Alyssa, but she ignores him and follows the maester, who approaches Aemond after greeting the queen.

"How is my son?" asks the queen, moving away from the young woman.

“The fever has gone. The prince looks better, his body seems to be healing as expected."

Alicent breathes a long sigh of relief as she slumps back into the chair. The maester proceeds to remove the bandages from the wound to change them for clean ones, but the queen stops him.

“Ser Criston, make sure the princess returns to her chambers,” Alyssa wants to protest, but she continues, “You've already been here all night, there is nothing more you can do for him. Furthermore, it is not proper for a young maiden to be alone in a man's room."

Alyssa blushes violently at her last comment and is inwardly grateful that the room isn't totally bathed in clarity.

“Princess” Ser Criston approaches her and Alyssa knows better than to resist.

Besides, Alicent is right, her task there had already been accomplished. The young woman casts one last glance at Aemond before following the knight out of the room.

***

She is not exclusively confined to her rooms.

Alyssa can visit the gardens, library, or throne room if she so wishes.

Or at least that is what Helaena tells her the afternoon she goes to visit her to thank her for watching over her brother's.

“He woke up a few hours ago and the first thing he did was ask for you,” her aunt tells her, “He meant to get up and come to you, but our mother did not allow it. The maester gave him more milk of the poppy and now he sleeps again."

Alyssa just nods at all this information and if Helaena expected it to cause something in her, she is disappointed when she notices her niece's blank look.

The truth is that, having returned to the solitude of her confinement after being expelled by the queen from Aemond's room, Alyssa had practically collapsed from exhaustion on her bed. The emotions and physical exhaustion of the previous nights had drained her of energy and she had sought refuge in her sleep.

But this refuge never came.

If the princess managed to sleep it was only for a few minutes and she always woke up more tired than she had been before. Her dreams were plagued by her memories of Luke, their shared moments from childhood, their last conversation... Alyssa would wake up with tears in her eyes and pace endlessly around her room until she came back to the bed and the nightmares continued to plague her.

The truth is that she doesn't feel entitled to mourn her brother.

Alyssa thinks of her family on Dragonstone. She thinks of her mother, who had endured the loss of baby Visenya with great difficulty. How had Rhaenyra reacted to learning that her Lucerys, her favorite son, was no longer in this world? Without a doubt, her mother must have been in deep pain. And Jacaerys…did Jace already know that his beloved brother had died? Jace, who had spent his entire life taking care of them both. And poor Rhaena…

All of them can mourn Luke's death.

But not her.

Because guilt washes over her every time, reminding her that it was her lover who ended her brother's life. The lover she had spent the whole night taking care of, doing her best to keep him from death. When guilt invades her and her pain and emotion overwhelm her, when fear and uncertainty for her future come back to torment her, she only manages to press her nails on her wrists and find relief in the sensation of physical pain. The stings and aching from her open wounds are like a ground wire, allowing her to breathe and providing brief relief. Not that she deserves to feel that relief.

"The servants say you are not eating well," Helaena continues with a voice that denotes the concern she feels. Alyssa watches her face, the frown and sorrowful blue eyes of hers.

The princess shrugs, not knowing what to say. The food does not appeal to her. She knows that she should try to eat, but everything tastes insipid to her. Helaena gives up after a few minutes of silence and leaves her room after giving her one last sorrowful look.

Alyssa goes to her place by the windowsill and returns to her vicious cycle of despair, pain, and blood. There the servants find her at dusk when they enter with a tray of food and help her remove her dress to put on her nightgown. The young woman winces as the fabric of her dress brushes against her bruised arms and the girls look at her wounds and then at her with sadness in their eyes but without comment.

Alyssa does not care too much. She does not have the strength to pretend to be okay or to hide the damage she's caused. She just wants to be alone

***

"How long have I been sleeping?"

Maester Runciter is cleaning his wound, a clean cut already looking rose-tinted, “A few hours. You needed to rest"

“I have rested enough. Finish quickly with that for I have important things to do"

“Surely, it can wait, my prince. You were unconscious for two nights, you have to be patient."

Aemond wants to tell the maester that he can save his advice for whoever really wants to listen, but he prefers to keep quiet. If he is too eager to get out of bed the man will surely alert his mother, who will once again prevent him from visiting Alyssa.

The first night after waking, Aemond had agreed to drink the milk of the poppy out of consideration for Alicent. The queen had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown during the couple of nights he'd been unconscious, Cole had told him, and she still seemed very distraught despite the fact that he'd woken up, so he'd preferred not to upset her too much and had agreed to rest.

But he could not continue in bed. He had to talk to Alyssa. He had to explain to her what had happened, he had to tell her that…

What exactly was he going to tell her? Would he dare to be honest with her? To admit that Vhagar had gone against his orders and acted almost on her own? Would he tell her that he was sorry for her brother? Would he confess to her the fear he felt at the thought of her not forgiving him for what he had done? The brief confrontation they had had in the throne room was still on his mind. Alyssa had refused to be close to him and had looked at him with such contempt in her eyes that his despair had been endless. Perhaps that was why he hadn't noticed the moment when she had snatched the knife from him. "You killed half my soul," she had told him. And she had announced her intention to take revenge. Not that he reproached her or held a grudge against her for it. Aemond, to tell the truth, was grateful for the injury she had caused him. He would endure every blow she directed his way until her thirst for revenge was satisfied and, perhaps, she could forgive him. Maybe that way, they would find peace together.

The maester helps him put on a clean chemise and his mother enters his room, followed by a maid with a tray of food that she places on the table.

"Aemond" his mother gives him a soft smile as she walks towards the bed

“Mother,” he replies, unable to help but feel the satisfaction of receiving Alicent's visit, “It is late. You should be resting now"

"Not yet" she looks at the maester, "How is my son?"

“The wound has healed, Your Grace. The danger has already passed”

"I'm relieved to know that" his mother's smile widens a little more and Alicent takes Aemond's hand in hers, "The prince will heal completely then"

“Indeed, my queen. Soon the prince will be able to return to his normal activities and perhaps visit his dragon”

Aemond doesn't miss his mother's reaction when the maester makes the comment about Vhagar.

“In due time, maester. My son still needs to rest" replies the queen standing up and walking towards the table to take the tray of food, "Thank you, maester, you can leave us now"

Runciter does a little bow before leaving. Alicent walks back to the chair and places a napkin in her son's lap.

"What did the maester really mean by mentioning Vhagar?" asks the prince immediately

"It was just a comment, Aemond, it is nothing that…"

"Mother" he presses

She makes a face before huffing and speaking, “Vhagar has been restless these past few days. The keepers of the dragon pit tried to appease her, but were unsuccessful."

Aemond knew the poor men would stand no chance of calming his dragon, who had spent too long exiled and far from the dragonpit to learn to obey them, "Where is Vhagar now?"

“Flying over the Blackwater. She has not stopped releasing flares since you were injured,” she sighs, ““She sank two ships heading towards Essos”

"I'll visit her tomorrow," Aemond says, internally feeling pleased to know that his connection to the dragon is still present.

“I wish you wouldn't, Aemond. You are not well yet, you must…”

He interrupts her once more, "Did you hear the maester, I am fine." Alicent doesn't reply, but he knows she'll probably insist in the morning. “I am also capable of feeding myself,” he adds when his mother reaches out to him with a soup spoon.

"Let me, please"

Aemond does not protest again and allows his mother to take care of him that night. He cannot avoid, however, his curiosity. He has spent five days without news of the kingdom and he needs to know the situation in which his family is.

"Has there been any news about the war?"

"We are not at war," says Alicent as she moves uncomfortably in the chair. At the look her son gives her, she adds, "At least not yet"

"Mother"

"Nothing has happened since you were hurt, if you want to know"

"But there must be ..."

"It wouldn't be your business anyway," she replies curtly.

Something stirs inside Aemond. His mother avoids his gaze and the prince has the bitter feeling that he has lost Alicent's trust. She had always been very honest with him, perhaps too honest, always trusting her worries on his shoulders ever since he had grown old enough to understand the dangerous context surrounding his family and his heritage.

"Mother, I know that I was reckless and negligent," he begins, the need to prove his value to his family rising in him again, just like when he was a child who felt insufficient for not having a dragon to validate him, "I acted in a way that does not correspond to the way you raised me and I endangered our family. I am aware of that, but…”

“Aemond, stop.” His mother places her hand on his again and stares at him, “I won't pretend I am not…upset by what happened to princess Rhaenyra's son. But I do not doubt your loyalty to this family or to your brother's reign. I only wish things had happened differently."

Me too, he wants to say, but he just nods and his mother pushes the tray away after deciding that he's had enough to eat, " Anyway, I'd like to know what's going on, that is all."

Alicent shrugs before responding, “We have not received a response from Rhaenyra regarding the terms offered for her to desist from her claim to the throne. Not that we were expecting one."

“And hasn't his side attempted any action yet or…?” he leaves the thought in the air

"We only know that she collapsed after finding out what happened with her son" she lowers her head and begins to play with her hands, hurting the skin around her fingers, as she always does when she is anxious or worried.

"Did she say anything about the princess's situation?" He asks while he gently takes her mother's hands among his, preventing her from continuing with her nervous action

"The princess" she sighs and sits down again, "No, we have not received any demand from Rhaenyra about her daughter. Most likely, she does not know that Alyssa is here. Lord Larys says Aegon captured her on the way to White Harbor. Maybe the news has not yet reached her"

Aemond is surprised at what his mother tells him. His half -sister surely had spies in court, the news must have already reached her, the silence about the kidnapping of her daughter is most suspicious.

"My niece is a valuable hostage, I hope she is being treated according to her position" he says trying to sound nonchalant.

Her mother rests her brown eyes on his and Aemond thinks he recognizes suspicion in them, but the feeling quickly passes, “She hasn't been mistreated, if that's what you mean. She remains confined to her rooms and refuses the attentions of your sister."

Alicent presses her lips together in a thin, taut line that shows her clear disapproval of Helaena's attempts to be civil with Alyssa, but Aemond lets the gesture go, making a mental note to thank his sister for being nice to his princess.

"Are you relieved to know that?" asks his mother taking him out of his thoughts

"What do you mean?"

His mother shoots him an exasperated look, “Do not treat me as a fool, Aemond. The girl was watching over your convalescence all night and you did not stop calling her in the midst of your unconsciousness"

Aemond feels the color come to his cheeks and refuses his mother's piercing gaze as he tries to compose his expression so as not to show the emotion that overwhelms him knowing that his princess was with him.

Not that he hadn't suspected.

Although he did not remember anything specific after passing out, inside him the feeling of having been lost and wandering aimlessly remained. But he had heard Alyssa's voice. Aemond believed it had been his imagination, his memories of the times she had sung to him under the weirwood, but perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps it was her voice that brought him out of that state.

“I like to think that she was here motivated solely by the guilt of hurting you,” Alicent continues.

No, it couldn't be just that, could it? Aemond's stomach clenches at the thought and he dismisses it. No, Alyssa had been with him because she still cared about him. It had to be that the reason.

Alicent sighs, defeated and aware that she will get no answers from her son, “Be prudent, Aemond. It would not be appropriate or wise to let yourself be guided by your desires."

"Mother…"

"Sleep now. It is too late already"

Without telling him more, she places a kiss on the forehead of her son and leaves his room.

***

Aemond wakes up at dawn.

With great care and not without pain, he manages to stand up and get dressed, taking care not to open his wound by making any sudden movement. Fortunately, his bandages remain clean and he takes that as a good sign as he walks towards the door. Each step is difficult at first, but soon years of physical training and endurance take over and he is able to walk almost normally.

Ser Rickard Thorne is visibly surprised to see him standing by the door and hastily offers him his arm to recline. Aemond declines the offer.

"Should I call the queen, my prince?"

"I have matters to attend to that do not require my mother's attention" when the guard seems to star to reply, he adds, "Follow me if you must, but for your sake do not interfere with what I am about to do."

The guard nods and lets Aemond go, who moves slower than he would like until he reaches Alyssa's rooms. The palace is still absolutely silent and he does not run into any servants, however, there is a guard guarding his niece's door.

"Leave us, Ser Arryk," orders Aemond.

The young guard knows his prince well enough to try to talk him out of it, so he steps aside and wanders down the hall. Aemond knows that Ser Arryk is more loyal to his brother than to him and that he probably would be prying about his visit, but he doesn't care for now.

Aemond pushes the door open and enters the room, trying not to make too much noise, but his slow, heavy progress gives him away.

Helena? Is it you?"

“Not Helaena, I am afraid” he replies finally entering Alyssa's field of vision, who is sitting by the window, still wearing her nightgown and her messy hair falling freely down her back.

Alyssa's heart skips a beat at the sound of Aemond's voice. For an instant she believes that her mind is playing tricks on her so she stops looking at the courtyard of the fortress and turns her gaze in the direction of the voice, running into the tall figure of the prince, who walks awkwardly towards her. Her eyes drift inevitably to his stomach, to where his wound should be, now hidden under his layers of clothing. Aemond should have healed well if he could now walk without help. Alyssa experiences a brief sense of relief at the thought, before the little voice in her mind reminds her again that he is her enemy.

Aemond watches Alyssa's expression go from incredulity to concern and disdain in seconds. The fear of her possible rejection assails him again.

"Have you come to collect the debt?" she asks in a lethargic tone

"Debt?"

“For hurting you,” Alyssa specifies, “Is it time to pay for my daring in hurting you? Am I to return to the dungeons?”

Aemond does not know what to say, dungeons? A few seconds pass before he responds, “No, of course not, do you think I am here to hurt you? Do you think me capable of that?” His voice transmits his disbelief and pain at the possibility that she thinks that he seeks to see her suffering

"Do not even try," Alyssa replies.

"Try?"

"Do not try to act like you are hurt by the suggestion I just made," she says in a dismissive voice, "Do not try to act like you care about me."

"Please let's talk"

"Leave," she says quietly as she turns her face back to the window.

"Alyssa, please let me explain."

"I do not want to listen to you. I do not want to be near you. I am a prisoner here, I know, but I am not forced to bear your company. Leave this room” despite the harshness of her words, her voice breaks.

And so Aemond's resolution.

“Do you really want me to go away?” he dares to ask her

The audacity of his question ignites the rage inside her. Despite having spent another restless night and feeling her strength slipping away, Aemond's question manages to prompt her to get up from the window resolutely and stride over to where he is with the intention of physically hurting him again.

“Did you expect another reaction from me? Did you think I would run into your arms and thank you for killing my brother? I do not think you are stupid enough to entertain such hopes or consider me magnanimous enough to simply overlook your transgression."

Aemond staggers and nearly loses his balance under Alyssa's furious fists attack, but he does not try to stop her. He knows well that this was a possibility. He also knows that he deserves to take her hits and that she needs to release what she has inside of her.

The girl punches his chest and shoulders, trying to put all of her strength into each of her rounds, looking to hurt him, though it doesn't seem to have much of an effect on him. At some point during the outburst she starts to cry and air begins to escape from her lungs.

Not now, Alyssa thinks desperately as her ears cloud with the familiar ringing and her head spins. The feeling that her heart is going to burst and stop suddenly overwhelms her, so she tries to take breaths to calm herself, but it has no effect. Alyssa looks at her trembling hands and brings them to her wrists, seeking safety from the pain, but bigger, stronger hands take hers. Alyssa does not protest, she is not in any condition to do it, she just allows arms to wrap around her waist and her forehead comes into contact with something hard. The princess tries to breathe once more and this time a smell of musk and wood reaches her. The scent is familiar and she is immediately comforted. The girl closes her eyes and continues to breathe, the feeling of nausea slowly disappearing as well as the tremors in her hands and her heart beats again in a regular rhythm.

The door to her bedroom opens and Alyssa opens her eyes. Two maids carrying a dress and a tray of food enter, but stop abruptly as they take in the scene before them. The princess is then aware that she is in Aemond's arms, that her head rests on his chest, and that they are in dangerous proximity.

"Put those down and leave immediately" he orders, furious at the interruption.

The maids curtsy and hurry out, closing the door behind them.

Alyssa pushes Aemond away from him, walking to the other end of the room. The anger has disappeared and the shame has settled in her, she cannot face him yet so she remains with her back to him.

"How did you get those wounds?"

“They were courtesy of your brother,” she replies after clearing her throat. She knows that, despite the days that have passed and the maester's ointments, her face still looks bruised, as does her throat.

Aemond suppresses a curse and balls his hands into fists. He is going to have a very serious talk with his older brother, but that is not what he is worried about right now, "I am talking about the wounds on your arms."

Alyssa ignores his question, "Leave, Aemond, I want to be alone."

He sighs, "Let me explain, please."

"Explain," she lets out a humorless laugh and turns to him, "Are you going to tell me the details of how you murdered my brother?" There had been a time when she had wanted to know exactly how things happened in Storm's End, but now her curiosity has been quenched, "Go away, Aemond, let me mourn my brother in peace."

Aemond owes her at least that much. The prince turns, ready to leave, but he has one last question.

"My mother told me that you took care of me all night," he asks turning to her.

"At Helaena's request"

“You sang for me,” he says in a low, melancholy voice. The princess bites her lip hard, how does he know that? Had Alicent told him? Alyssa doubts it. As if he could read her thoughts, he adds, "I heard you sing to me in my dreams."

Alyssa doesn't quite know what to answer, so they stare at each other for a few long seconds until she speaks, “You don't deserve an apology from me, I do not mean to give you one, but I will say that I was wrong to hurt you. I found no satisfaction in hurting you and taking revenge did not bring my brother back."

Aemond nods slowly after hearing her answer. Alyssa had always been a much better person than him, he knew that well. His Alyssa was light to his darkness and even though he had hurt her greatly, she had shown her kindness by taking care of him. Even though her actions were merely guided by her guilt and the realization of that hurt him, it felt good to know that part of her was still there.

The prince starts to walk towards the door, but she calls his name.

"Aemond, there is something I want to know" the anxiety and pain is reflected in her eyes, "Did you feel good after killing him? Did it feel good to finally get your revenge after all those years of waiting?”

Her question throws him off balance because, honestly, Aemond doesn't quite know how he feels. He knows that he regrets chasing Lucerys after leaving the castle, he knows that he should have been able to fight his temper, but… was he really sorry for his nephew's death?

Aemond is saved from answering because for the second time the door opens and Helaena enters the room with Ser Arryk. The gentleman tilts his head, noticing that Alyssa is still in her evening clothes, and focuses his gaze on Aemond.

"Sorry to interrupt, my prince, but the king orders the princess to go immediately to the throne room."

“Thank you, Ser Arryk,” Alyssa replies. The knight bows before leaving and the princess looks at Helaena, "I suppose this has to do with the absurd announcement he made the day he brought me to the fortress."

"I'm afraid so" sighs her aunt

Alyssa nods. Aemond looks at the two women, visibly confused, “What announcement are you referring to?

The princess raises her eyebrows at him, “Didn't they tell you? Your brother intends to take me as his second wife."

For the first time in days, Alyssa feels a surge of joy and satisfaction as she watches Aemond's horrified and furious expression as he hears what she has just told him.

_________________________________________________

Read on AO3: Sinful Desires by Aebi12

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer #ao3 fanfic

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