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#squirely musings
sqvirely · 3 months
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⚔️🏰 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖚𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖟 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕴 𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆 𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖐𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 🏰⚔️
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queenofvenicebeach · 4 months
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It's really heartwarming how John Squire praises Liam and his talents in all the interviews. I love how he says that Liam turns everything into something amazing and how he knew it would be great as soon as Liam got involved and how he said he only had some riffs, but as soon as Liam was on board, they turned into songs and he wrote them with Liam in mind
I mean we all know how great Liam is, but it's always good when John says it out loud as Liam really deserves to receive such kind words from his partner who is on top of that also one of his biggest idols
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apinchofm · 1 year
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Musings on Sophia Western - this precious bean!
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We are introduced to her as the legitimized daughter of a slave and Squire Western's eldest son.
We get her mother's name, which is rare in these dramas but demonstrates a willingness to acknowledge her background as opposed to whitewashing it away. She is aware of the violence that created her and the scene in which she and Tom discuss the complex feelings they have towards their fathers (neither knowing them) was great to watch because it demonstrated the complexity of Sophia's existence.
She is loved wholly by her grandfather and even her Aunt Western and she loves them back whilst also being resentful of her father who violated her mother and that's fine. The greyness for mixed characters in this time period
Also when her other aunt puts all that white makeup on her face but her skin colour and hair still reveal that she is black was so grim and very much shows the other side of her family in Lady Bellaston. She reluctantly accepts her as family but will do anything to make her miserable.
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mariedemedicis · 10 months
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I wonder what Beka’s like as a mom
Has Pierce mentioned if she’d ever return to Beka’s era?
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sumireviku · 8 months
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my hc is now that muse is 25 years old, based on absolutely nothing except for the tales series' refusal to have women older than that who aren't literal mothers of teenage protagonists
i mean muse is indeed the mother of a teenage protagonist, but she was also in stasis for 17 years so
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liroyalty · 1 year
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Me meanwhile remembering my collection of knights
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atangledfate · 1 year
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Squire Tangle of Camelot (Updated)
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Squire Tangle Head Canons
1: In an age before equality, Men had a free pass yet if a woman wished to take up a blade and stand as a warrior. She would be ridiculed or even ostracized. Because of this Tangle hides her gender behind her armor, and masquerades as male, despite disliking the idea of lying. She knows they would have shunned her or laughed otherwise. So she uses the name " Tangle " To hide the truth.
2: She fled her home of Spiral Hill, after her Uncle informed her she would be married in the following spring. Taking up her mother's spear, and some old armor she found in a chest. She fled her home to escape what she saw as chains. She would be free even if she could never go back home again.
3: Born Angela Hart, she comes from a small village called Spiral Hill, its far and out of the way and beyond recognition by most. Her family is of Welsh decent and you can sometimes catch her accent creep through despite her attempts to hide it.
4: Her weapon of choice is a spear, a weapon once wielded by her mother before she settled down. Her mother always claimed it had a special power, yet it always seemed to be a rusty old spear to Angela. It has a name, though she can't quite read it, do to all the rust though it has never broken despite all the punishment.
5: She is the Squire to Sir Percival, and travels with her where ever she goes. As Percival's Squire she is under the direct tutelage of Percival though all the nights lend a hand training her. Additionally Lamorak is often seen sparring with her, and the two are seen often enough sharing a drink as Tangle eagerly listens to his stories.
6: She dislikes Lancelot do to his rude mannerisms, and how he dismisses her at ever turn. He constantly tells her to Go Home, or that she's not good enough to be a Knight. She take sit hard and has developed a anger toward him---though she just wants to best him ONCE to shut him up! She still respects him, and follows his orders without question.
7: She has always had a fondness for other Women and finds them attractive like one might a man. But having grown up in a village where such thoughts were considered Sinful, she hides her feelings and, buries her frustration in a desire for battle.
8: She is good friends with Lady Bijou, a Noble in King Arthur's Court, Angela saved her from certain death by bandits on the road before she was a knight. Of not for her the good Lady would likely have perished or worse, and she repays that kindness as best she can and the two have become close since. She would go on to sponsor tangle for Knighthood for her heroic deed, despite backlash from her fellow nobles.
9: Tangle has formed a friendship with a local Thief named Robin, While she tries hard to get Robin to give up her life of crime. They have on many occasions shared a drink, or even faced an enemy or two together. Tangle thinks Robin has a good heart, even if she doesn't agree with her methods. She also might have a bit of a crush on her, but she is to ashamed of the emotions to ever mention it to anyone!
10: Angela is claustrophobic to the point of sheer Panic! She doesn't like to admit it and only Percival knows the truth of it. But she sees it as a weakness and is always trying to overcome yet it paralyzes her and reduces her to tears.
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ravensilversea · 10 days
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"Once he graduates, I'm done with squires. I'm bad for their health." - Seanan McGuire, The Unkindest Tide
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roseband · 8 months
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i think i've said it before, like 8 years ago though........ cause he hasn't played bass in 8 years and only got his current bass around 5 months back (i wonder if he sold the two moollons and his fender and squire, he talked about having to buy a new bass then)
but like pre-accident james played soooooo similar to wolstenholme, like the techniques he used, like even when he did funk covers he had the wolstenholme vibe,,, wolstenholme is the reason i bought my bass <3
he was suuuuuuchhhh a good bassist
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imxthexhandler · 1 year
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Send me a ✾ and my character will recommend a book to yours and why they think they should read it.
( @nytehavyn-circle)
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"I realize it is young adult, but I love this series. It is one of my favorites. It's just a really fun read."
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sqvirely · 6 months
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hwanchaesong · 3 days
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┗🖋️ Starry eyes lighting up the fire / The scorching palms of a squire / Ignites the sensations of ire / A storm, not in peace with a lyre ��
🎧: Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone- Fortnight
wc: 1.7k
genre & warnings: angst, sprinkle of fluff, smut, jay is rich and reader is an ave citizen, cursing, club and drinking, unprotected sex, overstim, creampie, mentions of forced marriage, etc etc mdni
a/n: this is a part of The Tortured Poems Department series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.
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"You alone?" a figure came up from behind you, snapping your daydreams.
"Oh uhm," you stuttered, not exactly a great talker, much less in front of an attractive man, "with my friends but.. it seems like they have found some men to go home with."
An awkward chuckle escapes you, and you almost wince with how unnatural you sounded, thankfully, the male is not a judgmental one.
"Well then, let me accompany you."
That was hours ago and now you're having your back blown by the rich, handsome man you've been conversing with back at the bar.
Face pushed onto the lush pillow of the luxurious bed of the hotel you're in, knuckles turning white with how you're gripping the silken sheets, and your muffled moans with the wet sounds of skin slapping echoed throughout the expanse of the room.
"That's my good princess, you take me so well." the man above you continues to harshly pound into your abused cunt, showering you with praise that had you reeling in pride and pleasure.
You had been going at it for three hours now, and he had made you cum for.. the nth time. You can't count anymore, if you're going to be honest.
He's so so good with his fingers, tongue, and everything. A stranger that you only met for tonight gave you the best experience you'll ever pray or wish for.
You mewled his name in a weak manner when he slows his pace down, a condescending smirk on his insanely attractive face.
"Close?" he asked and you can only nod meekly, he chuckles at you before manhandling you in a missionary position.
"Ja- Ah! Oh god! Slow down!" you cried out, arms flying on his chest when he suddenly bottoms out in your wetness and railing you to oblivion.
He started off sweet, he was basically making you comfortable until you begged for him to do more. So he did do more, and you can only blame yourself for biting more than you can chew.
You can complain all you want though, he's not stopping. Not when you're this dripping all over him, gripping him, oh, he knows you're loving this.
"Why would I slow down, babe?" he rasped, leaning down to lick a stripe of your skin on your neck, "I thought you like it better if it's rough?" he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your lobe.
"I-I, it was not hmpf-!" he cuts you off with his own mouth, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss, tongues out and clashing with each other until drool dribbles down your chin.
"No more explaining, baby." he mumbles against your lips, his thrusts are relentless throughout and it has you moaning in rapture.
He is so big and thick, he easily hits all the spots that most men can't even touch. The tip of his length scratches your cervix and it sends you into a frenzy.
You are nothing but a muttering hot doll in his presence, and it makes him smirk, the way you take everything that he gives you.
"See, you like this." he mused, furrowing his brows when he felt his high coming nearer, his hands reaching down to rub circles on your bundle of nerves, "Last one baby, you can do it."
He urges you to let go, and with one last thrust from him, you both came at the same time.
Heavy pants filled the room, and he pulled out of you with a grunt, followed by your whines when he inserted two fingers in your sensitive womanhood, pushing the mixture of cum back in your pussy.
"Jay.. stop it." you mumbled sleepily as he laughed lightly, licking his digits to clean the liquids and lying down beside you.
"Sorry, gotta make sure you'll keep all that in." you giggle at his silliness, peering at him through your lashes, only to see him staring at you intently.
"What is it?" you inquired, shutting your eyes when his hands rubbed your flushed skin, soothing the tense muscles underneath.
"I was thinking," he contemplates for a second, "do you want to spend your remaining two weeks here with me?"
With a wide smile, you turned and embraced him, catching him by surprise but he returned the hug nonetheless, covering you in his sturdy arms, "Thought you'd never ask."
---------------------------------------------------
"My fu-! Dear god." you were woken up rather abruptly when loud knocks resonated in your home.. newly bought home.
Life has been good so far. You got a new job in the suburbs, far away from the city but you like the tranquil vibes (and the pay is higher for some reason). You're finally out of your crappy apartment, your effort of saving money has paid you with a new house and lot.
You rubbed your eyes, standing from the sofa and subtly checking yourself in front of the mirror if you're presentable enough to entertain guests. Deeming yourself fine, you're good to go.
Upon opening the door, a lovely woman greeted you, offering you a freshly baked good. 'A gift for the new neighbor', she says.
"Thank you so much. You didn't have to go through the trouble." you muttered graciously, an appreciative smile on your face.
"No problem!" she laughs, extending her hand for you to take, "I'm Park Minhee. I live right next to you with my husband." she points at the large, mansion-like house beside your own average one.
"That's great." you accept the handshake, starting to grow fond of the kind woman, and it makes you think that her husband must be so lucky to have her by his side.
"By the way," she says in a hurried tone, "please join us for dinner later, I would like to introduce you to my husband."
"Sure!" you agreed without hesitation, making her beam with joy and when she ran off into their household, only then did you realize the repercussion of your impulsive decision.
You barely knew them and it feels like you're intruding!
You shake your head in disappointment, you have to work on that aspect of yourself.
Putting down the gift you had received, you realize that it was an apple pie.. his favorite.
You stopped yourself from thinking about him again. It's unbelievable, really, how he's still plaguing your mind and heart with the memories and feelings he left within you.
It was 2 weeks for fucks sake! Why is it so hard to move on from him? What kind of narcotic did he use on you that you're unable to forget about him.
Was it the way he touched you while his eyes speak millions of sentiments that words can't fully express it?
Was it the way he kissed you, fucked you, made you feel like you're the only girl that matters in the whole world?
4 months fucking months since you've last seen him and haven't been able to escape the loop of that fleeting 14 days of February.
You inhaled, burying the thoughts in your subconscious. You just have to give it some time, and slowly but surely, he will be nothing but a burnt ash of your cigarette.
---------------------------------------------------
Hell.
The dinner with the Parks was hell.
It was so fucking awkward you'd rather die because why on the damnest reason is he the husband, out of all people?
You had to act like everything was okay. The steak was delicious, the wine was magnificent, heck the interior of their home is superb except for the man of the house.
The relief is close, you'll be free from the restraints soon. You just have to hold it in.
"You are such a sweet lady!" Mrs. Park giggles on the sofa, clearly about to pass out because of the amount of the wine she consumed.
"Thank you for accommodating me tonight." you managed to give her a small smile, even if she can't see it, bidding them goodbye but then you went rigid when the wife sputtered her next sentence.
"Jongseong, would you be a dear and assist our guest on her way home."
You interjected, not wanting to spend more minutes breathing the same air as him, "Oh no, it's fine! I literally live right t-"
"I insist." the male voices out in a firm manner, leaving no arguments.
The older woman waves you two off, flumping onto the sofa to rest, and the hell part two begins.
It was quiet, no one dared to say a word until you reached the front of your house, and Jay has never been a man with a stitched mouth.
"It's good to see you again.. well, not like this but.." he trails off, finding the right words is difficult at the moment.
"It is," you turn on your heels to face him, "and it's good to know that you're living the best life."
He bites his lower lip, deliberating whether to explain himself to you or not, ultimately choosing the former.
"We were forced into marriage, just a few weeks ago."
Well, good to know that you weren't the other woman in the picture. That doesn't make the pain any less, though you are ready to put on your big girl pants.
Dead set on being mature in the situation, make your guardian angels proud of you once in a while.
"Jay, it's okay." you murmur, taking his cold hands in your warm ones, "Whatever happened there, stays there. Goodnight."
You didn't give him the chance to reply because if you hear his voice, you think you'll make a mistake that you'll regret later on.
Slumping down on your wooden door, a thud came out of it, you have to pull yourself together.
One day, greeting Jay while getting your mails would be possible. Chatting with him about the weather will be child's play. Watching his wife tend to their garden would be a daily scenery that you wouldn’t mind one bit.
Jay stayed outside of your home for a few more minutes, fighting his inner turmoil. The one that is urging him to be honest with you. The side of him that wants to explain everything after your fated meeting in the club. 
There were a lot of times where he tried calling you, but no courage came to him, the fear of your rejection was far stronger than any forces out there. 
You will never know how Jay loved you during that everlasting 2 weeks, and he will never know how your feelings for him lay waste in your heart.
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taglist:
@ramenoil @shakalakaboomboo
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bigchump1994 · 8 months
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The most toxic place on the internet is a thread on the McDonaldLand forum titled "No offense to Brad Lennon but Squire Fridell will ALWAYS be my Ronald"
Featuring no less than 25 doxxings, 47 SWATs and 12 counts of aggravated assault, the thread has faced criticism from Internet Historian Grunt Frumpler, who has been quoted saying "Those motherfuckers in McDonaldLand do not play around" (Frumpler et al. 'Musings on the McDonald's Wifi', 2018.).
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kckt88 · 4 months
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Breath Of Doubt.
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Summary:
Cerelle Lannister arrives at the Red Keep and immediately sets her sights on Aemond, determined to have him at all costs.
Vaeryna of course is having none of it and unleashes her inner dragon, determined to protect her treasure.
Warning(s): Language, Pranks, Violence, Threats, Kissing, Incest, Voyeurism, Smut - Lactation Kink, Daddy Kink, P in V Sex.
Word Count: - 4242
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
GREENS WIN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.
One Shot Take My Breath Away - Takes place six months after the birth of Aegar.
AEMOND X O.C
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.
Tag List - @snh96, @immyowndefender,
“Gods this is boring” moaned Jaehaeryn.
“Boy, that’s enough” snapped Aemond as the golden horse drawn carriage came to a stop inside the yard.
“Sorry father” muttered Jaehaeryn, subtly moving closer to his mother.
“What’s she even coming here for anyway?” asked Rhaegar.
“Beats the shit out of me” said Vharla shrugging.
“Language” scolded Vaeryna.
“Oops” squeaked Vharla.
“He’s got a point you know-why is Cerelle Lannister coming here?” asked Aegon the Younger.
“Scouting for a husband” mused Jaehaera.
“Good luck, half of the single lords that frequent the Red Keep are wrinkly old cunts”.
“Daenerys” snapped Aemond.
“Apologise father” replied Daenerys her cheeks tinged pink.
“Oh, you have no idea how much this amuses me” breathed Aegon.
“Glad it amuses someone” snarked Aemond.
“Uncle Aegon is single, and he isn’t a wrinkly old cunt” exclaimed Saeryna.
“I knew there was a reason I liked you” said Aegon.
“Shouldn’t have favourites” mused Aerys.
“I don’t have favourites-but if I did it would absolutely be Saeryna” laughed Aegon.
“You are the King-stop acting like a buffoon” snapped Aemond.
“Oh, Aemond remove the stick from your arse and lighten up” replied Aegon.
“Uncle is brave-I’ve seen lesser men almost piss themselves in fear from the look that father is giving him right now” mused Rhaegar.
“All of you quieten down-“ urged Vaeryna,
As the door of the carriage opened, Aerys let out a little gasp as Cerelle emerged from the carriage, her jewelled hand extended to the attending squire.
Indeed, she was rather beautiful, her golden hair shining in the sun, her elegant slim figure swathed in rich red and gold fabric. Her blue eyes sparkling like the rarest of gems from Tarth.
“Lady Lannister welcome to Kings Landing, I hope your journey from Casterly Rock wasn’t too perilous” said Aegon politely as he held out his hand in greeting.
However, she bypassed greeting Aegon and made a beeline for Aemond.
“Rude” scoffed Vaeryna.
“Pleasure to meet you Prince Aemond, I’m Cerelle Lannister”.
“Errr, pleasure to meet you my lady” replied Aemond.
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Cerelle Lannister's gaze swept across the crowded hall, where the flickering candlelight danced on polished armour and richly adorned gowns of other ladies in attendance.
The air buzzed with the murmurs of the guest courtiers as they revelled in the grandeur of the occasion, a feast held in celebration of some anniversary of the King.
Yet, amid the sea of faces, her eyes found him - Aemond, the enigmatic figure with flowing silver hair that cascaded down his shoulders like liquid moonlight.
Aemond moved with a graceful confidence, his every step commanding attention.
The scar over his face only heightened the allure, a testament to his bravery and resilience against the bastard strong boy who carved out his eye when they were children.
Cerelle's heart quickened as she took in the sharp features that radiated the ethereal beauty of old Valyria.
His presence was magnetic, drawing her towards him like a moth to flame.
Leather-clad and lithe, Aemond moved with the fluidity of a predator, his every movement deliberate and purposeful.
Cerelle couldn't help but be captivated by the way his attire accentuated the contours of his body, a display of strength and agility that hinted at a warrior's prowess.
Her breath caught as she observed the subtle play of muscles beneath the supple leather.
Cerelle's pulse quickened when she saw Aemond lean over and place a gentle kiss on the cheek of his wife.
Cerelle in her youth had heard of Vaeryna, the silver haired dragon who had sold herself to her enemies and married the man responsible for the deaths of her brother and father.
It often intrigued her, what sort of woman would do that, but then her reasons were made clear when it was revealed that her brother Aegon the Younger was still alive, despite the entirety of the realm believing he perished alongside his brothers in the gullet.
Cerelle actually admired Vaeryna for that, it showed her strength and determination, a true reflection of house Targaryen.
But upon seeing Aemond, Cerelle completely understood the unspoken reasons for Vaeryna’s motivations. She really couldn’t blame her for spreading her legs and birthing the prince’s many children.
His silver haired babes were a testament to Aemond’s virility and fertile seed and Cerelle couldn’t help but feel flustered at the thought of Aemond stuffing her with his cock and breeding her.
His wife should have been a deterrent, a signal to retreat from the allure of forbidden desire. However, Cerelle's determination burned brighter than ever.
Vaeryna, was a mere obstacle in Cerelle's pursuit. Their union did little to extinguish the flames of longing that now roared within her.
Cerelle's ambitions knew no bounds, and the thought of a marital bond meant nothing in the face of the irresistible connection she felt with Aemond.
Undeterred by the constraints of societal norms or the sanctity of marriage, Cerelle set her sights on Aemond with unwavering resolve.
The glint of determination in her eyes mirrored the gleam of silver that adorned Aemond's hair and no matter how much she admired Vaeryna her existence quickly became inconsequential in the grand tapestry of Cerelle's desires.
She planned to move through the courtly intrigues with a grace that masked her audacious intentions. Cerelle knew the art of subtlety, weaving a web of subtle glances and discreet encounters, all aimed at ensnaring Aemond's attention by any means necessary.
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Cerelle Lannister observed silently as Aemond engaged in rigorous sword training session in the castle yard.
The sunbathed the training grounds in a warm glow, accentuating Aemond's silver hair and his lithe and powerful frame moving with a grace that only a seasoned warrior possessed, each motion deliberate and precise.
As Aemond practiced his swordplay with the oldest of his sons, beads of sweat formed on his brow, glistening like diamonds against his pale skin.
Cerelle's blue eyes followed the sinuous lines of his movements, appreciating the fluidity of his actions. The intensity of the training session accentuated the contours of his muscular physique, captivating Cerelle's attention with each powerful swing and deft manoeuvre.
Cerelle found herself entranced by the sight of Aemond's dedication to his craft.
 His focus was unwavering, and the sheen of sweat highlighted the exertion he poured into every strike.
Aemond's dedication to his training only heightened his allure in Cerelle's eyes, and an admiring smile played on her lips as she absorbed the captivating display.
The distant clang of swords echoed through the yard as Aemond sparred with his son. Cerelle couldn't help but admire the way he effortlessly dominated the practice, his movements a dance of skill and strength. A subtle sense of longing crept into Cerelle's gaze, and she marvelled at the allure of the warrior before her.
Aemond's silver hair caught the sunlight, creating a mesmerizing halo around him as he continued to hone his swordsmanship.
Cerelle, hidden in the shadows, allowed herself a moment to appreciate the beauty of the scene.
The contrast between the fierce determination etched on Aemond's face and the grace with which he moved stirred a potent cocktail of emotions within Cerelle.
As the training session progressed, Cerelle remained captivated by Aemond's every motion, savouring the sight of his athleticism, strength, and the sheen of sweat that clung to his form.
A subtle smile played on her lips, aware that the next time they spoke, the image of Aemond in the midst of his training would linger in her thoughts, fuelling a newfound admiration and perhaps sparking something more.
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Vaeryna felt the subtle tension in the air whenever Cerelle Lannister was near.
The sly glances, the lingering touches, and the carefully chosen words—all seemed orchestrated to seduce her husband, Aemond.
Vaeryna was not blind to the game being played, and it fuelled a storm of emotions within her.
In the quiet moments of the night, Vaeryna found herself reflecting on the delicate balance of power within the social web of the court.
Ever ravenous for the whispers of scandal and salacious behaviours they could use for their own amusement.
Cerelle’s visit to the Red Keep was only meant to last a few weeks, but the visit had been extended in the hopes that Cerelle would be successful in finding herself a husband.
Technically she had been successful and had indeed found herself enamoured with a man who was no doubt the fantasy of most women that caught a glimpse of him, but he was married, and his wife was no slouch.
She was not only a dragon, but the daughter of Daemon Targaryen, whom she embodied not only in mind but in soul and every time she saw Cerelle giggling at Aemond or batting her eyelashes at him, she found her fingers itching to swipe the dagger from Aegon’s belt and skewer the nasty little tart with the pointy end.
However, Vaeryna tried very hard to restrain herself and maintained a calm and dignified facade but beneath the elegant exterior, Vaeryna harboured a storm of conflicting emotions—anger, jealousy, and a determination to shield what was rightfully hers.
Her children however were another story.
Saeryna had spent hours searching for spiders in the gardens only to release them in Cerelle’s chambers, her screams of terror echoing around the Red Keep as Saeryna smiled innocently.
Aerys worked in tandem with Jaehaeryn to swap Cerelle’s fancy bathing oils with stinky pond water and Caelee even helped herself to Cerelle’s pretty powders and used them to paint pictures for her Kepa (Father).
Vharla unstitched the seams of Cerelle's dresses which resulted in a rather embarrassing incident in the gardens with Cerelle being left red faced after her dress all but fell apart leaving her in nothing but her underclothes.
As it turned out Aegon was behind the entire thing, as he was advising the children on what to do and he took great pleasure in the chaos they were causing.
He had taken an instant dislike to Cerelle and was determined to see her suffer for her rudeness and blatently obvious disregard for Vaeryna who Aegon was absolutly NOT in love with.
Vaeryna of course pretended to be scandalised when Saeryna was caught putting worms in Cerelle’s hair, but it was rather endearing that her children had made some unspoken agreement with their uncle Aegon and united against Cerelle, determined to punish her for what she was doing, and it was amusing to see their sweet little faces a picture of pure innocence as they were scolded by Alicent for their behaviour.
The one thing Vaeryna was sure of was Aemond, her husband, was a man of unwavering loyalty and moral integrity.
She knew him well enough to trust in the strength of their bond, convinced that no external charms or temptations could sway him from their shared commitment.
Despite this confidence, the mere fact that Cerelle Lannister sought to weave her subtle web around Aemond was an insult that stung.
The insults were not in the fear of Aemond succumbing to Cerelle's charms, but rather in the audacity of the attempt itself.
It was a slight to their marriage, a challenge to the sanctity of their love, and an affront to the trust they had painstakingly built over the years.
Vaeryna found herself grappling with a mix of emotions—anger at Cerelle's audacious advances, frustration at the need to defend what should be unassailable, and a deep-seated hurt that someone would dare to undermine the sacred connection she shared with Aemond.
Ultimately her thirst for retribution eventually prevailed and she made a vow to herself that when the opportunity presented itself, she would deal with that horse haired slattern if it was the thing she ever did.
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The Red Keep was ablaze with light and merriment as the realm gathered to celebrate King Aegon's name day. Banners of House Targaryen fluttered in the breeze, their green and gold scales catching the glow of countless torches that lined the courtyards and corridors.
The air was filled with the fragrant aroma of roasting meats, and the joyful sounds of laughter and music echoed through the throne room.
The throne room was adorned with elaborate tapestries depicting the storied history of House Targaryen. Long tables stretched across the room, groaning under the weight of lavish feasts prepared for the occasion. Golden chalices and plates adorned with dragon motifs sparkled under the soft candlelight, casting a warm and inviting glow.
Nobles from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms mingled with knights, lords, and ladies, all clad in their finest attire. The clinking of goblets and the melodic tunes of harps and lutes filled the air, creating an atmosphere of revelry befitting the celebration. Courtiers in richly coloured gowns and doublets danced gracefully to the music, adding a touch of elegance to the festivities.
In the centre of it all stood King Aegon, resplendent in regal attire befitting his station. His silver hair gleamed in the light, and the crown of the conqueror sat proudly atop his head.
Aegon received well-wishers and gifts with a gracious smile, acknowledging the love and loyalty of his subjects.
The people of the realm still buzzing from the spectacle of the jousting tournament that been held earlier in the day in honour of the king's name day, where knights in gleaming armour clashed with lances under the watchful eyes of the cheering crowd.
Of course, Aemond who claimed he didn’t give a shit about tourneys, entered and won.
Relishing in the cheers for his victory as he crowned his wife Vaeryna the queen of love and beauty. Her sweet smile as he placed the wreath of flowers upon her silver head and her gasp of surprise as he hauled her over the wooden fence and kissed her deeply in front of the realm was endearing for all too see.
Except for Cerelle of course who was seething with envy. Her attempts to tempt Aemond were proving fruitless, and his children with his silver haired bitch of a wife were monsters who needed hard lessons in discipline and the King was no better aiding those little shits in their pranks was truly poor form.
No, she needed to increase her efforts in tempting Aemond, she wanted him and by the gods she was determined to have him, so she donned her most daring dress and joined in the celebrations for the King’s name day.
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“Are you really that dense brother-“ snarked Aegon as he took a large sip of wine.
“What are you bleating about now?” snapped Aemond.
“Cerelle Lannister-the lingering looks, the not so subtle touching of your arm when she's talking to you. Brother-your wife is seconds away from kicking the shit out of her and whilst I will shamelessly enjoy such a spectacle, I doubt her morbid cunt of a father would, so you might want to put a stop to whatever fascination Cerelle has with you before blood spills” replied Aegon.
“There is no-“
“You only lost one eye, surely you’re not that blind, the girl is desperate for your cock-“ muttered Aegon.
“Well, she can remain desperate-"
“Listen to your big brother-you’ve only bedded what two women?” said Aegon.
“Three actually”.
“Three? Who was-oh yeah Alys that old whore from Harrenhal, I forgot about her” said Aegon.
“Hm”
“Well, that’s beside the point-I’m more well versed in the ways of women than you are, and I can tell you now that there are some women who don’t take no for an answer and when they set their sights on something they will do whatever it takes to get it” replied Aegon.
“Are you saying that I’m in capable of defending myself against unwanted attention?” asked Aemond, feeling a little insulted over his brothers insinuation.
“In a word-yes I am. That Lannister bitch has had you in her sights since she first arrived here and whilst you remain blissfully unaware-your wife does not”.
“What has Vaeryna said?” questioned Aemond.
“It’s not what she’s said brother, it’s what she hasn’t. No woman ever wants to see another woman pawing at their husband” exclaimed Aegon.
“Do you think Vaeryna will do something?” mused Aemond as he looked over at his wife who was indeed glaring at Cerelle.
“You do know who your wife is right? Whilst Ryna might be a woman, she’s as fierce as any dragon that ever existed, and a dragon will protect what they consider to be theirs-if Cerelle continues playing with fire she’s going to get burned” warned Aegon.
"Oh, for the love of seven" uttered Aemond as he spotted Cerelle walking towards him.
“This isn’t going to end well” urged Aegon grimacing.
“Aemy-I had thought you would ask me to dance” giggled Cerelle.
“I’m not much of a dancer my lady” muttered Aemond.
“That’s not true-he dances often with Vaeryna-you know his wife” said Aegon through gritted teeth.
“Oh, Your Grace, a man may dance with others if he so wishes” said Cerelle her voice mockingly sweet, the underlaying meaning of her comment lingered in the air.
“Not this man” whispered Aemond as he tried to move away from Cerelle.
"Oh, just one dance my Prince" exclaimed Cerelle reaching for Aemond's hand.
"My lady I really must protest-" retorted Aemond moving his hand away from Cerelle's grasp.
"Just one dance-surely you won't begrudge a lady-"
"Oh shit-" muttered Aemond.
“-I bid you farewell Lady Lannister-it was nice knowing you” exclaimed Aegon raising his goblet in a mock toast as Vaeryna came up behind Cerelle and seized her by the hair, dragging her away from Aemond who couldn’t help the surge of arousal that shot through him at his wife’s possessive display.
The fierce determination in her amethyst eyes as she spun Cerelle around and slapped her hard across the face.
Her face twisted with fury as she stood over the shaking form of Cerelle.
“You even dare to approach my husband again and I’ll knock your teeth out-I’ll slit your throat from ear to ear-I’ll rip your fucking face off-AEMOND PUT ME DOWN“ screamed Vaeryna.
“Take it easy there Issa nēdenka zaldrīzes” Aemond as he wrapped his arms around Vaeryna and hauled her away from Cerelle (My fierce dragon).
"No-she laid hands on you; I won't have it-she dares to think that she can take what is MINE" snarled Vaeryna as she struggled against Aemond's grip.
"Nothing to see here-" urged Aegon waving his hands in the air, as he tried to stifle his laughter.
Aemond dragged a furious Vaeryna from the throne room and hauled her against the wall, his arms pinning her body against the cold stone wall.
"Calm down-" urged Aemond.
"Don't tell me to calm down-she's been pawing at you for weeks and I can't stand it any-"
Vaeryna gasped as Aemond surged forward and pressed his lips to hers in a brutal kiss.
“Do you trust me ābrazȳrys” asked Aemond (Wife).
“You know I do” replied Vaeryna breathlessly.
“In that case I may have an idea to stop Cerelle’s pursuit of me-so would you do me the honour of meeting me in the library in half an hour” said Aemond.
“Ok” muttered Vaeryna feeling a little uncertain.
“Don’t worry Issa gevie perzys. Just make sure to wear something less constricting” replied Aemond as he turned on his heel and walked away (My beautiful fire).
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Cerelle stared down at the hastily scribbled note and smiled. Aemond had asked to see her, mayhaps he was going to apologise for his clearly deranged wife’s violent behaviour, or he had finally realised their connection and was ready to give in and reciprocate her affections.
Admittedly the library was an odd place to meet, but it didn’t matter.
The moment she had been waiting for was finally upon her and Cerelle was determined to enjoy every single second of it.
As she approached the ornate double wooden doors, Cerelle took a deep breath to steady her nerves before a guard wordlessly opened the doors for her.
The library was almost shrouded in complete darkness save for the few lit candles, giving it an almost eerie yet romantic glow.
“Aemond” called Cerelle.
But no answer came and after a few minutes, Cerelle’s attention was drawn to what sounded like a breathy moan coming from between the bookcases.
As she moved through the labyrinth of tall bookcases, the sounds of moaning grew louder.
Cerelle stood stunned as she spotted Aemond, half naked with his breeches sitting low on his hips, his head pressed into his wife’s neck as he pounded into her.
“N-Nothing and no one compares to you” growled Aemond bracing his hand on the bookshelf as he brutally snapped his against Vaeryna’s.
He was so deep inside her that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.
“Aemond” gasped Vaeryna her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
“That’s it ābrazȳrys, take every fucking inch of me-let me fill your sweet cunt” (Wife).
“Oh, please Valzȳrys. I want it. I want all of you” moaned Vaeryna (Husband).
“FUCK” roared Aemond as he hauled Vaeryna away from the bookcase and placed her the edge of a desk.
“Yes-Yes Aemond, Oh gods” breathed Vaeryna.
“I fucking love you-I love you so much” growled Aemond his eye finding its way to Cerelle who shivered as he smirked at her, the sapphire nestled in his eye socket glinting in the candlelight.
Aemond continued to stare at Cerelle as he mercilessly fucked his wife, filling her over and over again with sharp penetrating thrusts.
The muscles of his chest and abdomen flexing as he moved with a brutality that Cerelle had never seen before.
“Aemond-yes, right there. Don’t stop-don’t stop” cried Vaeryna the tears running down her pale cheeks.
“That’s it Issa jorrāelagon. Come on daddy’s cock” rasped Aemond (My love).
Cerelle couldn’t help the flare of arousal that shot between her thighs when Aemond lurched forward and wrapped his lips around one of his wife’s erect nipples.
Suckling greedily and he reached down and began expertly circling her pearl with his long fingers.
“AEMOND” screamed Vaeryna her entire body seizing before going slack and pliant.
“FUCK-I’m going to come-“ groaned Aemond.
“I want it-fill me with your seed Issa dārys” gasped Vaeryna (My King).
“FUUUUUCK” roared Aemond, his head thrown back as his rope after rope of his seed spilled inside his wife’s cunny.
“Aemond” breathed Vaeryna as her husband collapsed on top of her.
“I love you so much-“ replied Aemond.
“-And I love you” whispered Vaeryna.
“I never want you to doubt my love, no one will ever compare to you-my soul mate”.
“Issa idañnykeā perzys” muttered Vaeryna (My twin flame).
“I see that our observer has fled” said Aemond staring at the vacant space that Cerelle had occupied mere moments ago.
“Husband” breathed Vaeryna as she slid her hands into his long silver hair and pulled his face towards hers.
“Wife” replied Aemond as he pressed a kiss to her soft lips.
Vaeryna gasped as felt her husbands cock hardening inside her.
“I think I need to have you again” moaned Aemond as he withdrew his cock from his wife’s cunny until only his tip remained and then thrust forward again.
“You may have me as many times as you desire my love” exclaimed Vaeryna.
“Hm-” sighed Aemond his tongue licking at the seam of Vaeryna’s lips.
His plan had worked perfectly, Cerelle wouldn’t be a problem anymore. She had seen for herself the passion and love that Aemond and Vaeryna had for one another, what a silly lion she was to even think that she could come between two dragons.
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As they watched the golden carriage depart the Red Keep, Vaeryna couldn’t help but notice the sly smiles plastered across Aegon and Saeryna’s faces.
“-And what are you two so happy about?” asked Vaeryna.
“We may or may not have left a little going away present in the carriage for the Lady Lannister” said Aegon shrugging.
“Dare I ask-“ mused Vaeryna as a loud shriek echoed across the courtyard.
“I guess she found the slugs” laughed Aegon.
“Or the maggots” replied Saeryna.
“I thought we agreed on slugs-where did you get the maggots from?” asked Aegon as he lifted Saeryna into his arms.
“Found them in the Maester’s room and then I put some in a jug and poured them in a cushion in the carriage” replied Saeryna.
“A-A cushion” exclaimed Vaeryna.
“Don’t worry mama. I left the zippy part open” shrugged Saeryna.
“Gods I love this kid” laughed Aegon.
“I thought I was being nice leaving her presents, not my fault she doesn’t like them”.
“Spoilt bitch” muttered Aegon as Saeryna nodded quickly.
“I’m not going to get into trouble am I mama?”
“No, my sweet you’re not. In fact, I must insist that you receive a reward, how about a new doll or a new dress. Perhaps both?” said Vaeryna smiling.
Saeryna giggled sweetly and pressed her face into Aegon’s neck.
“You know I pity the fool who dares try to court this little one when she’s of age” said Aegon.
“You and me both”
“Is everything ok?” asked Aemond curiously.
“Everything is perfect my love” replied Vaeryna as she took her husband’s hand and headed back inside the Red Keep.
As Vaeryna gave one last fleeting towards the golden carriage moving rapidly away from the Red Keep, she couldn’t help but wonder if Cerelle would ever dare show her face again.
Probably not if her children had anything to with it. What treasures they were.
All eight of them, mayhaps even nine as the moontea Vaeryna had requested that morning had remained untouched in her chambers.
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Wrap Around Pt.1
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Pairing(s): Oberyn Martell x Martell!Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand
Warnings: siblingxsibling implied, longing
Words: 2033
Summary: Oberyn was beside himself at the return of his baby sister (y/n). For a year she had been off in Essos, experiencing the rest of the world outside of the safety of Sunspear. Now she was returning to Dorne. Returning to Oberyn.
PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE WARNINGS/TAGS
Part 2   Part 3   Part 4
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“Her ship still isn’t here yet?” Irritated, Oberyn makes the servant squirm uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. Normally Oberyn was quick to please and in a jolly mood. There was none of that.
“No, your Grace. Her ship seems to be lagging.” He awkwardly informs the Prince of Dorne.
Near the archway of his chambers, Ellaria was lounging on a long, cushioned bench. She watches as the poor boy flees once given permission by Oberyn. “Calm down, my love. The ship will get here when it gets here. You yelling at squires won’t make it sail any faster.”
His brow was tense on his handsome face. “I haven’t seen my baby sister in a year. I need to see her face. It’s been far too long.”
Ellaria coles and rises, her robes flowing after her as she glides over to Oberyn. Hands smooth out Oberyn’s knotted shoulders. (y/n)’s initial departure had been hard enough on Oberyn. For days after Ellaria stayed by his side as he longed for his sister. Now that she was returning, he was once more growing impatient on her arrival.
She kisses the length of his neck, feeling his form relax under her touch. “You know how arduous traveling by sea is. The wait will be worth it once you see her.”
Closing his eyes, Oberyn sighs and allows Ellaria to lead him to a chair. Dutifully pouring him a goblet of rich Dornish red. Dark as blood but oh so sweet on the tongue.
He should have never let (y/n) leave for Essos. She claimed that she wanted to see more of the world and since she was not allowed to go to Westeros on her own (Oberyn had already lost one sister there, he wasn’t going to lose another), her brothers relented. Giving her a ship to Essos was safer than having her travel in Westeros where Lannisters and Tyrells could easily prey upon her. For so long after Elia’s death, Oberyn kept her safe in Dorne. No one would dare to take his young sister from their own home. (y/n) wanted to spread her wings though. Too headstrong to be tethered down. She was not delicate like Doran and Elia had been. There was venom in her, a will that couldn’t be broken, nor did Oberyn ever want to. He loved (y/n), faults and all of her fire.
“If she comes back with a boy, you must promise not to hurt him.” Ellaria suddenly muses while petting his dark head.
The thought hadn’t even occurred to Oberyn before. (y/n) was of perfect marrying age and much like himself had a healthy carnal appetite. What if she had decided to bring someone home? Perhaps when she visited Trystane in Norvos where his mother lived their nephew might have introduced her to someone. A beautiful foreigner that peaked her interests enough for her to want to bring them home. It made Oberyn’s stomach drop.
“Then the boy must be ready to prove himself. No man is worthy of my sister if they are not prepared to fight me.”
Ellaria knew that there was more to it. Expert hands fann on his broad shoulders and begin to knead them. “Even here, feelings like that are looked down upon.” They never spoke about it. Hardly brought it up because of the sadness that followed. Incest was rife in Westeros, but never in Dorne. Have a lover, even two if you like, but it could never be a sibling. That was the one taboo everyone agreed upon. It was viewed as unnatural, even damnable. And perhaps another reason why Doran was willing to give (y/n) her own ship to travel for months at a time. He saw what Ellaria did: a brother who loved his sister too much for comfort.
Not saying anything, Oberyn gingerly grabs one of Ellaria’s hands and pulls it down so that he could kiss her smooth knuckles. “I just want to see her.”
Off in the distance they could hear the low blow of a horn. Oberyn was on his feet in seconds, a big grin plastered on his face making him look ten years younger.
“She’s here!” **
Your heart rattled the cage of your chest once you caught sight of land and the shining top of Sunspear’s palace, even the looming vegetation of the Water Gardens could vaguely be seen.
The warm Dornish breeze kissed your face, welcoming you back home. Although you had fun during your solo journey, you sorely missed Sunspear and all the people that lived there. You wondered how much your nieces had changed, if they even did at all. Arianne and Tyene had been close companions to you growing up. The three of you spent your early adolescence playing in the Water Garden and flirting with whatever poor boy got stuck in your alluring trap. You loved Oberyn dearly, but you could never have fun with the opposite sex when he was around. Entangle yourself with another woman? Sure, go for it. But if Oberyn caught a whiff of a male scent, he was right there to scare them off. Being with your nieces did a lot of good for you as you were allowed to escape Oberyn at least for a few hours.
You smile to yourself when you think of your possessive brother.
Retrieving a piece of cloth that was normally tied to your wrist, you press it under your nose. After so long it still smelled like Oberyn. Before leaving for your first stop, Lys, you had snuck into Oberynb’s room and cut a strip of fabric from one of his shirts. A token to take with you, for even though he chased all the boys away, Oberyn was your favorite person. More than Arianne and Tyene. More than your older brother Doran. He was your light. When Elia was murdered, Oberyn slept in your room every night because of your haunting nightmares. He pressed you close to his bare chest and you drowned yourself in his calming scent. Cloves, spices, and a bit of natural musk was your security blanket.
The sway of the ship brought you back.
You’d be seeing him shortly. You let go of the scrap of cloth, ignoring it as it fell to the ground. There was no need for it anymore. You were home.
“(Y/N)!!”
Even through the shout, you knew who it was. The closer you got, the more you could make out Oberyn at the dock; hands cupped around his mouth as he called out to you. Two armed guards stood sentry behind Oberyn and Ellaria. Of course they would be the first ones to greet you.
Leaning over the side, you call out “OBERYN!!”
Then, to the deckhands utter shock, you did the unthinkable. Getting up on the ledge of the ship, you dove into the sparkling water below. Their screams were drowned out once the water enveloped you. Breaching the surface, you swim over to the dock’s shore where Oberyn was running to.
“You crazy girl!” Oberyn was laughing as he helped you up and out of the water. His own trousers getting wet in the process but neither of you cared. He grabbed onto you for dear life and nearly suffocated you in his embrace. That’s when you heard the delighted screams of your nieces running into the water as well. Arianne excitedly skipped in, her dress skirts immediately getting wet. Tyene was a little more hesitant than her cousin but lifted up the hem of her dress and waded in. While Nymeria was close behind Tyene, Obara and Ellaria chose to stay on shore.
Even though saltwater stung your eyes and soaked into your clothes, you had never been happier. In the arms of your family you felt secure and loved.
Being drenched from head to toe made the way back to Sunspear’s palace a little uncomfortable, but at least you weren’t the only one. Nymeria had charged in, knocking all four of you into the water. Oberyn’s long hair was dripping as was Arianne’s. The way back, Tyene sulked over her wet attire; silently shooting daggers over at her half-sister.
Before facing your brother Doran, the reigning Prince of Dorne, you desperately needed a bath and a change of clothes. Being in that state was okay when it was in front of Oberyn, not the eldest child of Prince Egemen and Bahar Martell. Even if he was your brother, you still had to appear proper in front of the ruler of Dorne.
Departing from your welcome wagon, you were taken for your required bath. It felt like heaven to slip out of your soiled garments and into the steaming hot water that the maids had quickly supplied for you.
Sprinkling small jasmine flowers into the water made the floral scent begin to rise and fill your nostrils. As fun as your travels had been, this was your home that you had missed.
Hadiye, a hand maid who had been with you for years, goes to answer a knock at your washroom door. You could hear her quiet protest. “Prince Oberyn, your sister is almost done with her bath.”
Quite easily, Oberyn pushed past her. “That’s alright. You forget that (y/n) and I used to bathe together as children. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Besides, I want to hear of her adventures in the vast land of Essos!”
Gawking at the prince that was now striding over to your massive tiled tub, Hadiye looks to you and Melisa who had been lathering your hair with essential oils at the time of Oberyn’s disruption. Melisa, who was lower in rank than Hadiye, takes a step away from you and bows in your brother’s presence.
He waves them off. “You two may leave. My sister and I have much to catch up on.”
From her nervous glances at you, you assure the women that it would be alright. Before you left, this had been normal. Oberyn barging in on you as you bathed so he could keep you company and talk. Still, you knew how much this fact made others uncomfortable. “Go on. Let Prince Doran know that I will be ready in a little bit.”
Obedient Hadiye bows and ushers Melisa out.
“Such fretting hens.” Oberyn clicks.
“They surely haven’t changed one bit.”
Finally the two of you were alone. Releasing a sigh as he gets down on his knees, Oberyn sits on the floor; back leisurely pressed against your tub. Of course he never looked directly at you while you bathed. That would be inappropriate.
“So tell me of the year I have missed out on.” **
He had hoped things would be different once (y/n) came home. That her and Oberyn would stop tip-toeing the line of being inappropriate with each other. Yet his retainer had just told him what Hadiye had relayed.
Prince Doran purses his lips and runs a hand over his brow. They had always been too close, even before Elia’s murder. Elia had fretted over the relationship her younger siblings had. She wanted (y/n) to be married as soon as possible, preferably to a Dornish lord so that (y/n) would not have to suffer in a foreign land. Doran knew better. If he were to marry off (y/n), Oberyn would bring upon the apocalypse. Many times he had stated that no man could take (y/n) unless they defeated him in combat. Which more than likely meant Oberyn would kill any potential suitors.
What to do about them was becoming quite a problem for Doran. No young lord wanted to risk their life in order to claim (y/n). His father had taught all he may need to know for ruling Dorne, except for this. Times like this made him miss Elia. Under her care, Oberyn and (y/n) were more docile. Oberyn kept his possessiveness at bay while (y/n) kept her encouragement to a minimum. They clung to one another furiously after Elia’s premature demise.
Even with his paramour, Ellaria, Oberyn kept a tight grip on (y/n) and vice versa. Like snakes entwined in their mating dance.
He feared for his younger siblings. Their attraction to each other would ruin them.
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notyour-valentine · 2 years
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Dragon's Blood II ~ Aemond Targaryen x Rhaenyras!daughter
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[Navigation] [Moonboard Masterlist] [House of the Dragon Masterlist]
All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.
Summary: Once in King's Landing, she has a score to settle with Prince Aegon and Aemond has a toast to make( ~ 1x09)
Note: Loosely connected to this moonboard of mine. There will be a Part IV
Warning: sword fighting, mention of blood and injuries, smut, mention of war and death. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)
Wordcount: 5539 words
Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part IV
Part II
Previously
She did not share Jace’s or Luke’s memory from those bygone days and so she did not join them as they ran around the courtyard in excitement, retracing the sights of their old adventures.
Instead, her eyes were focussed on something else, or rather someone else. At least, until the sun darkened when his tall frame let shadow fall over her. 
“Where’s Syraxes?”, he asked as he leaned against the wall beside her. 
He smelled of sweat and leather, and a little bit of dragon. It was a scent she was all too familiar with.
“We came on ships.”, she explained, unable to hide her disapproval. 
Her confession made his eyebrow rise. 
“Preparing for your wifely duties?”, Aemond wanted to know. 
That again, she thought as she fought the desire to roll her eyes. 
“Daemon is still negotiating.”
“For which price to whore you out?”, he asked under his breath. 
If he had meant it to sting, he shouldn’t have struck with a dulled blade. 
“The fate of a Princess.”, she retorted. It was hardly anything new to her, nor was she oblivious to the duty her position required.
His hand found her waist as she tried to move away, holding her back. 
“There is an armoury room,”, he mused, his lips coming dangerously close to her ear. “It’s deserted this time of day.”
She hummed softly before turning to meet his piercing gaze. 
“I’m afraid, it will remain that way a little while longer.”
With that, she twisted out of his arm and reached for a practice sword, swishing it through the air to check the balance and weight. 
“You want to spar?”, Aemond asked curiously, crossing his arms over his chest. "Here?"
“Oh indeed.”, she said with a smirk, taking a few steps back before turning her back to him, pointing her sword at someone else. 
“Uncle!”, she called out to Aegon, who had only just arrived, offering her brightest smile. 
“Would you do me the honour?”
Usually the laughter from the men at arms, the knights and squires would have set her blood to boil but now it only ever made her smirk.
The more, the merrier. After all, why put on a show if there was no one to watch?
“You?”, Aegon asked, laughing squires at his back. 
“What are you doing?”, Aemond hissed. 
She let him hold her practice blade as she reached into her pocket to fish out a ribbon to toe her hair back. 
“Funny thing, Aemond.”, she told him, “one of your serving girls asked my mother’s maid if they have to fear Prince Jacaerys the same way they have to fear Prince Aegon.”
She turned to face him to be able to see his every reaction. 
He gave her nothing. No confusion. No surprise.
So she knew all she had to know. 
Tasting venom on her tongue, she nodded before taking the sword from him and facing Aegon with the sweetest of smiles. 
He had been joking with his men, she knew, and strode towards her with nothing but confidence, looking her up and down. 
“You want me to teach you about swordplay?”, he asked, “Well, who could say no to that? I am an expert in that regard."
More laughter rang out, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Jace flush with anger. 
Don’t worry, she thought, we’ll be the ones laughing soon. 
He took his own practice sword and positioned himself. 
“The key,”, he began, explaining loudly, “is not to give away when you will strike.”
The emphasis he put on his hip as well as how low he held his sword made a mockery of the practice yard, earning roaring laughter from his men.
“Like this?”, she asked, leaping towards him. 
He brought his blade up just in time to deflect her strike to his shoulder, but the unanticipated force sent him stumbling back. 
This time, she let him catch his balance. 
“You are a good teacher, Uncle.”, she mused as she stepped back, smiling. “Why don’t you attack? I hear you’re quite good at it.”
His lip twitched as he tried to strike. 
She blocked it with ease, ducked away and struck the back of his leg, forcing him to take a knee. 
Lucerys’ laughter rang out through the yard, cutting through the stunned silence. 
She had her back turned to Aegon, but in the shiny armour of Ser Harrold she could see his every movement, and even the flashing anger in his eyes. 
He ran at her, sword in hand, while Jace cried out to warn her. Now it was her that took a knee, making him strike air. Since he had passed her, it was all to easy for the flat of her blade to crack over his backside, making him crash to the floor. 
Lucerys howled, while the rest of the courtyard was reduced to shocked gasps and murmurs. 
Aegon scrambled back up again and charged. She jumped away and grabbed his arm, twisting it and pushing him away. 
Even more enraged, he came at her again, she blocked, parried and struck, her sword cracking against his hip with such force the onlookers groaned in sympathetic suffering. 
His face was as red as his backside promised to be as he charged at her again,, but an angry fighter was never a good one. 
Three more strikes did she block while she made sure to strike his hips and thighs at any given chance. Which was every chance. 
Aemond really hadn't lied when he told her he was a poor swordsman.
Another blow sent him to the ground again, as she, after a clinch, rammed her elbow into him and pushed him off with ease. 
“Enough!”, a voice cut through the yard. 
She saw Ser Criston Cole soldiering towards her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back. 
“I had thought you had a master at arms on Dragonstone, not a racketeer who never heard of honour to teach you the art of fighting!”, he snarled, his face mere inches from hers. 
His grip tightened until he cut off her blood flow, but she only ever met his gaze. 
“They teach fighting. In battle, there is little art to it. You ought to know that, Ser Criston.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see her brother’s bemused faces. 
The knight looked down at her with nothing but blatant disgust.
“It is unseemly for a woman to spar!”, he snarled. 
“I am not just a woman, Ser.”, she reminded him with the sweetest smile as she reached out to pluck a piece of dust from his beard. “I am a dragon. Those measly rules don’t apply to me.”
His fingers closed around her wrist as if her mere touch burned him and brought it down with such force, she feared he might break it. 
“Oh they do, girl!”, he snarled through clenched teeth. “And I will make you will subject yourself to them!”
The disrespect made her laugh in shock. 
“Ah you will make me?”, she hissed. “Would you like to try at where your Princeling had failed?”
“A woman has no place on the sparring yard.”, he snarled and pushed her away. 
Oh I’ll show you your place.
She was twisting her wrist to free itself from the pain as she closed her fingers around the practice sword a second time. 
Only this time another, gentler hand closed around hers. 
“Don’t.”, Jacaerys whispered. “He’s not worth it.”
Lucerys ran at them with wide, sparkling eyes. 
“You destroyed him!”, he insisted. “How did you know to do that?”
“Yes, how?”, Jace asked, suspicion in his eyes. 
“Practice.”, she said, making a point of not searching for Aemond who had watched their every move.
“As much as I enjoyed that, now we will look like fools compared to you.”, Luke said with a sigh.
“Aegon won’t be able to pick up another sword today. I wonder if he will even be able to sit. And Aemond won’t spar you.”, she insisted. “Train with Ser Harrold.”
She sent them off with a slight shove and put her own practice sword down. 
“Won’t I?”, mused a word from the shadows. 
“No you won’t.”, she said sharply, earning an amused hum.
“Aemond, they are just boys.”
“Jacaerys is your elder.”, he reminded her. 
“They can't match you with the blade.”, she said. "You know that."
"And you knew Aegon was no match for you and yet you sought to humiliate him in turn."
She huffed as she met his gaze, wondering if it was a hint of anger or a flash of pride she saw in it.
"He deserved it."
~
There was something soothing about watching the steam rise from the bathtub.
The maids had warned her that it might be too hot, but what was mere heat for a dragon like her? 
Either her bath water had to be scalding or icy cold like the salty sea on the shores of Dragonstone. 
And so she had asked the serving girls to keep preparing hot water. By the time they had carried it to her rooms to add to her bath in intervals to prevent a drop in heat. 
So it was no surprise when she heard the door open and close again. 
Only then, she didn’t hear any further steps and so she turned, water splashing as she moved. 
Aemond was leaning against the door, a slight smirk on his lips as his gaze travelled from her surprised face to her chest. 
Rolling her eyes she settled back down again, letting the water come up to her collarbone. 
“You’re not supposed to be here.”, she remarked dryly. 
“Well you are in my home.”, he argued.
She could hear his heels drop to the cold ground one by one as he made his way over to her. 
“If they saw you, you’d cause a scandal.”, she sneered, but she knew he wouldn’t care about that, so she added a little extra just to rile him up. “What would your poor mother think? And your darling High Septon? Since you’ve practically turned this place into a sept, would fucking me here make it even more sinful than it already is?”
He hummed as he sat down on the edge of the tub, letting his hand trail through the water. 
“No one saw me.”, he simply said, not giving her the anger she wanted. “There are a thousand secret passageways in the Red Keep.”
“Thank Aegon.”, she mused, and the hundreds of architects, workmen and builders whom he fed to Balerion once they were done. 
She leaned forward and inhaled, smelling soap and clean clothes. 
“You’ve already bathed.”, she remarked. 
“Would you rather I come to you reeking of the sparring yard?”, he asked. 
She didn’t respond directly, but he still smirked.
“You could have joined me. In warm water for once.”
Aemond hummed the way only he could hum, as he began to undo his buttons. 
She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. 
Occupied with her own thoughts, she took her eyes off him (and because she didn’t want him getting too full of himself) and so was caught unaware when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her forward until she crashed into his leg, but he only ever dragged her up further until her lips were inches from his. 
It left her startled and breathless and she had to clutch his thigh for support as not to fall. 
“I should cut it all off.”, he sneered almost angrily. 
His breath was as hot on her lips as the steam of the water was, but she was focussed on the fire in his gaze. 
“I’ll cut it off before I let some grubby Essosi fingers touch it.”
It made her laugh and although his grip still kept her head in place, she traced her fingers up the inside of his thigh. 
“Do that,”, she warned him under her breath, “and I will cut something off that won’t grow back.”
He inhaled sharply as she began to stroke him through his trousers, knowing they were growing tighter by the second. 
His grip on her hair loosened slightly and she moved down in the tub, resting her head against his knee while her hand kept moving up and down on the wrong side of his trousers. 
“Besides,”, she mused, batting her eyelashes at him. “No one would miss it more than you.”
He'd pull it, clutch it, bury his face in it, wrap it around his hand and hold her close, only to then brush it out and braid it for her with more patience than she ever had.
With that, she moved away, leaning against the back of the tub feeling pleased at the sight of her handiwork. 
Aemond inhaled sharply, as if weighing his options. 
His pride or her body. 
He gave her a glare as if she had insulted him and stood, but his hands moved to the laces of his trousers and she knew she had won. 
~
Aemond had made her so late that her hair was still wet by the time they had dressed her, in a black gown bejewelled with rubies to match those decorating her hair. 
She looked beautiful, yes, like a proper princess, or a prized cow, both at court and at dinner. 
By now, King Viserys had become a stranger to her, but when he smiled at her, she smiled back. She loved him for her mother’s sake. 
But nothing made her smile more than seeing Aegon’s limp. 
Jace proved every bit the King he would one day become as he responded with nothing but courtesy, to them, and then when Aegon thought to bother Baela, a far better man when he asked Helaena to dance. 
Aegon drank and drank, unable to lift his gaze, while Aemond watched them like a hawk. 
“I know a place from where you’d get an even closer look at my brother.”, she teased, making him glare at her. 
“Or are you too afraid we’ll embarrass you in this kind of spar too?”, she asked, nodding to Aegon. 
Without another word, he got up, pushing his chair back with a screech as he grabbed her hand. 
“If you want something,”, he hissed into her ear as they took their positions not far away from Jace and Helaena, “ask!”
But where would be the fun in that?, she thought.
The song they played, a  four-step, which meant that it could be danced by two couples as well as one. It was Helaena that initiated it. They stood across from each other, moving to one side, then the other, a step forward, two steps back. 
Then it was time for the men to release them as Helaena and her met in the centre, their palms touching as they circled around each other. 
She was beaming from ear to ear, as her skirts swirled with their turn for the other direction.With that, they returned to their respective partners, stopping in front of them.
“She seems to enjoy herself.”, she told Aemond. 
“She likes to dance.”, was the only reply she got as their hands touched in the space between them. 
“So here we are.”, she mused as he spun her under his arm before dropping his hands to her waist and lifting her up at the same time Jace lifted Helaena. “Us two, the only spinsters.”
He glanced down at her. 
“Until you are sold off.”, he snarled. 
“For the high price of a fleet and prosperous trade. I can live with that.”, she insisted. Either she’d marry Jace, or she’d be married off for the security of Jace’s kingdom. 
“Dragons are worth more than ships.”, he reminded her as they swayed from side to side again. 
“But worth more than peace?”, she asked, so close she could smell him, his rough, calloused hand holding her own and his lips - Suddenly her throat felt thick and she glanced down. “Let’s not talk of things we cannot change.”
“You’re not married yet.”, he reminded her as his hands went to her waist once more. 
“Do you plan on stealing me away?”, she asked just as she took her place at his side, ready to approach Jace and Helaena once more. 
“Can’t steal something that already belongs to you.”, he argued, not minding that they were so close both of their siblings could hear. 
Her answer had to wait until they stepped back once more.
“I don’t belong to you. Or anyone, but if it were up to me-”
“Uncle!”
Lucerys voice cut through the music as he stood, his eyes locked on Aemond. 
“They’ve brought something for you.”
She followed his pointed finger to the tray that had just been brought in and her heart sank. 
“Aemond!”, she hissed under her breath but he left her standing as he strode towards the desk. 
His eyes meeting Luke’s, he seemed to consider for a moment, before taking his goblet in his hand, but when he spoke up, his voice was calm. 
Yet she knew better than to trust it. 
“A final tribute-”, he said, his gaze locked on Luke. “To my nephews.”
The music stopped completely to let him speak, as he made sure to look at each in turn.”
“Jace, Luke and Joffrey - each of them handsome, wise…”
He lingered, as they all held their breaths, as if he savoured the taste. 
“Strong.”
“Aemond!”, his mother hissed, but she inhaled sharply, feeling her hands clench into fists but he ignored them both. 
“Let us drain our cups,”, he announced loudly, “to these three Strong boys!”
Aegon was only too eager to lift his, but her head snapped around as she heard Jace’s voice crack like a whip.
“I dare you to say that again!”, he demanded, squaring up to Aemond without a trace of fear or intimidation in his eyes. 
“Why? Twas only a compliment!”, the taller man insisted with a smirk.
How she wanted to strike it right off his face. 
“Do you not consider yourself Strong?”
Jace beat her too it, his fist colliding with his jaw and snapping his head around. She was already halfway there when out of the corner of her eye she saw Aegon grab Luke by the back of the neck and slam his face into the table.
In the blink of an eye, she felt a fistful of his icy blond hair in her grasp and tore him away, spinning him around and burying her knee in his stomach.
“Pick on someone your own size!”, she snarled at him as he groaned in pain, more than happy to continue what she had begun in the sparring yard. 
“Enough!”, she heard someone cry as she saw Jace fall back, Aemond towering over him, his goblet still in hand. 
His mother grabbed his sleeve. 
“Why would you say that? In front of these people?”, she insisted. 
In front of me.
She missed the first part of his response as Daemon grabbed her by the back of the dress like a cat picking up an unruly kitten, pulling her before the guards could. 
He pushed her away from Aegon without much effort, shoving her in the space between Luce and Jace. 
“Although my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs!”, Aemond finished, making Jace’s cheeks flush in anger as he was ready to lunge at him once more. 
“Ah!”, Daemon said, his finger raised, stopping him before he could reach Aemong. 
He was first staring at Jace, then her, and finally Luke.
They understood but he made sure, staring them down until they had all taken a step back, his finger still raised before he turned. 
“Go to your quarters!”, her mother ordered, “all of you! Now.”
She looked to Jace, who only began to turn when Rhaena, holding Baela’s arm in one hand and Joff’s hand in the other. 
Her still waited at the door, seeing first the girls and Joff out, the Luke, who glared over his shoulder and finally her. 
She could feel his silent rage, burning to match her own. 
They shared that, the anger, the desire to fight, to fight him if need be.
But he did not share her betrayal. 
There were yet marks on her body he had made, the grip on her hips, the mark of his kisses. And now the sweet sting of passion felt like bite marks from a venomous snake and it was from them, that she could feel the poison seeping into her with every step. 
It made her want to scream, to claw at them, to cut every memory from him out of her mind and body, to burn it away with Syraxes’ fire or to drown it in the Narrow Sea. 
Fire, blood and the salty water would wash her clean of him. 
And yet her anger was drowned in her pain, in the piercing ache she felt in her chest with every breath she took.
Jace's hand found the small of her back as he inhaled sharply.
"And to think Mother was considering to give you to him.", he whispered, his voice so low only she could hear.
~
Jace, Luke and her had received a scolding from their mother until their ears rang. 
Today of all days. 
It was to make peace. Why did you have to fight? 
But it was disappointment more than anger. 
They should have stood above it, their ambivalence would have made him look the fool and now they had given him just what he wanted. 
If only her mother knew the truth of the words she had spoken. 
In her mind, they were both toying with each other in equal measure, but what if she had been dancing to his tune along? What if she was lost on this path he had led her on?
You gave him just what he wanted. 
She had done so, over and over again. Here, on Dragonstone, on their little island. 
So her defeat was a heavier to carry as she made her way back to her bedroom, sending away the serving girls and staring into the darkness of the room, illuminated only by a crackling fire. 
The girls hadn’t gotten to lighting the candles yet. 
For how long she just stood there, she did not know, but she spun as soon as she sensed movement from the darkness, pulling out the dagger that was hidden in her sleeve.
“You can put the blade away.”, said the last voice she wanted to hear. “It’s only me.”
“Only reason to keep it drawn!”, she snarled. “Get out!”
He stepped out from the darkness, his hands at his sides and said her name as if he hoped it were a spell he could enchant her with.
“I said get out!”
“I know you’re angry-”
She grabbed one of those idiotic seven pointed candle sticks and flung it at him with full force, candle and all. 
He ducked and it crashed to the floor behind him and Aemond turned to see whether it had shattered or not.
So he barely saw the second candlestick coming in time. 
Cursing under his breath, he crossed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist before she could hurl a third in his direction.
Pushing her up against the wall, he twisted both candle and knife from her hands, kicking them away, as he said her name once more. 
“Get out!”, she snarled, trying to kick him, but he stood so close she couldn’t gather momentum. 
“I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
She turned her head away until her cheek was pressed to the cold stone to be away from him. 
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”, he admitted, taking a step back.
She almost laughed at him.
“You knew exactly what you were doing!”, she snapped, using her newly reached freedom of movement to slap him. 
He let her.
But once his head was facing her again, he seemed unmoved. 
“Lucerys -”
“Lucerys is a boy!”, she snapped, not letting him finish. “It has been years, Aemond. Let it go!”
He always had such a keen memory when it came to that joke, except the fact that it had been his own brother who had had the idea. 
Aemond scoffed and shook his head. 
“You always take his side.”, he spat as if stating a crime she had committed. 
“Of course I do. He is my brother. My little brother!”
She could see his jaw muscles working in silent rage and shook her head in disbelief. 
How could he ask for loyalty now? After what he had done? After Aegon had attacked him? A man twice his size?
“One minute you wish to steal me away from marriage, the next you call me a bastard-”
His hand grabbed her arm, stopping her pacing. 
“I didn’t call anyone anything!”, he reminded her, as if a technicality would absolve him. 
She faced him headon, glaring at him with nothing but rage and disgust in her eyes and her voice trembled with suppressed anger. 
“If they are bastards,”, she hissed through clenched teeth, “So am I.”
Aemond swallowed hard as he weighed his words. Still, he refused to relent.
“You are not a thief.”, he argued. 
“A thief?”, she demanded to know, his words only ever stoking her rage. “And pray tell, how are Jacaerys and Lucerys thieves? They are my mother’s sons!”
“They aren’t trueborn!”, Aemond argued. “You know it too, I know you do!”
She had bit back a chuckle while he had acted so prim and proper at the dinner, praying, but it wasn’t funny anymore. 
Someone must’ve had a better aim with those stupid seven-pointed star candleholders than I did. 
“They won’t inherit the Iron Throne because of Laenor Velaryon.”, she reminded him. “They inherit it because of my mother. Your future Queen!”
Aemond chuckled, shaking his head and making her want to strike him.
Mocking her brothers and now insulting her mother?
She felt like she would explode with rage, when she heard the door handle click. 
Giving Aemond a shove, half in the hope that he would fall, hit his head or break his arm, she rushed towards the door before it could fully open. 
She imagined the guards, some servants, her mother, Daemon or Jace - but it was neither and so she fell to her knees.
 “Aegon!”, she gasped, all traces of anger disappearing as she saw the tears on his cheeks. 
“Sweetling, what’s wrong?”
He was in his nightclothes, clutching the blanket in his hand. 
Instead of responding, he buried his face in her lap and sobbed. 
“Oh my love!”, she whispered as she reached for him and lifted him up, her hand on the back of his head as she began to walk back and forth with him in her arms, as his tears began to soak her dress. 
With one glance, she made sure that Aemond was hidden from view, before sitting down on the edge of her bed and placing him in her lap. 
He only ever let go of her reluctantly and she began to wipe his tears away as his fingers grabbed her dress for good measure. 
“What happened?”, she asked. 
His lip began to tremble. 
“I couldn’t find anyone.”, he whimpered, unable to meet her eyes. “You were all gone! All of you!”
With that, he flung himself at her again, his head hitting her chest at full force. 
“Sweetling, we were at the feast. You know that.”
“You were gone!”, he insisted. “I was looking for you and you were gone. You were all gone and you left me alone!”
She held him until his sobs had turned to hiccups and whimpers before trying to meet his eyes again. 
“Come now, Aegon!”, she asked softly, “look at me now.”
He tried to avoid her eyes and so she lifted him off her lap and crouched down in front of him, looking up at his violent eyes as she cupped his face. 
“It’s alright.”, she assured him, her thumb stroking over his damp face. 
“It’s not.”, he argued. “I want to go home.”
“We’re going home!”, she promised. “
“Now?”
There was such hope in his voice, it hurt her to shatter it. 
“Not now, no. But tomorrow. Just one more sleep.”
He sniffled before laying down on the blanket. 
“Can I stay with you?”
She smiled softly as she ran her hand over his hair. So soft. So pale.
“You can’t.”, she said softly. “I’ll take you back to your nursery.”
“I don’t like it there! The walls…they are wrong. They’re scary.”, he confessed. 
For a moment she considered, but then she lifted him up in her arms. 
“I know, Aegon.”, she promised. “And that’s alright. Everyone is scared sometimes.”
“Everyone?”
She nodded.
“But you can be brave too, can’t you? My little dragon.”
That made his lip twitch into the hint of a smile. 
“And besides, you’ve got Viserys with you. Even you are a bit scared, you two can be brave together.”
She leaned her forehead against his.
“I promise.”
“I’ll be braver with you!”, Aegon argued, his hand clinging to her dress once more. 
She kissed the top of his head as she opened the door once more, carrying him back to the nursery.
It was nearly half an hour before he was settled, only falling asleep after she had sung him a Valyrian hymn, and she returned to her chambers.
Aemond was sitting just where she had placed Aegon to sooth him. 
“You’re good with him.”, he said softly. 
“He is my little brother.”, she said, too exhausted to fight.
Nothing was as draining as watching her little brother’s sorrow. 
“Yes, I know.”, he said defeat in his voice.
 He stretched out his hand and lifted his eyes, both violet and blue, in a silent plea as he stretched out his hand.
“I’m sorry.”, he said. 
She hesitated for three heartbeats before swallowing hard and crossing the room. 
Leaving his hand where it hung, she stopped to stand right between his legs and cupped his face, letting her thumb brush over the scar on his cheek. 
“Do you want to hear the truth, Aemond?”, she asked, though why she did not know. 
Perhaps the hour was too late or too early, perhaps Aegon’s tears had softened her resolve, perhaps the blow he had dealt her at dinner made her bleed out to the point of delusion. 
Perhaps she was just too tired or perhaps this game they played had gotten too complicated for her. 
Perhaps she was ready to end it, even if it meant losing. 
He looked almost frightened.
“If there is a choice, or even the hope of a choice, I would always choose you.”, she confessed, letting her thumb trace down to his lips.
Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena would hate her for saying that, and she could only guess what her mother and Daemon would think. 
His hand found her waist as he leaned his head against her chest, holding her tight. 
She allowed him, and let her hand find the back of his head as it had found Aegon’s earlier, stroking over it.
It would have been easy to stay like that, to hold him and let him hold her, to melt into his arms, his embrace, his body, to have his lips coax away the pain they had dealt her earlier. 
No, she reminded herself, not just her, but Jace and Luke and Joff, and her mother too. 
“But when it comes to my brothers, there is no choice.”
End
~
Part III
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!
Tagging a few people who I think might be interested in the sequel:
@sanzyfavbitch @luthientinu @unnamedm @janelongxox @crazylokonugget @sarcasticsweetlara @anditsmywholeheart @tinydramatist @sleepy0nez @words-way-of-life @redpool @c-chann
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