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#ywawm
myfandomprompts · 8 months
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You Were Always With Me | Masterlist [completed]
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Pairing: possessive!Aemond x Reader
Warning: Mature, smut, explicit, angst, blood, spoiler for Fire & Blood, fluff
Synospis: You are a lady from high birth, daughter to an important man of the court. You were raised in King’s Landing along with the Targaryen princes. You always felt close to Aemond, as you had much in common. But he always seems so inaccessible to you, particularly as he grew up. Now you make the decision to leave, and Aemond is not really happy about it.
A/N: Did a fic overhaul. To future readers, the beginning might seem a little weird, but it gets better, I promise.
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Chapters: [AO3]
(1) / (2) / (3) / (4) / (5) / (6) / (7) / (8) / (9) / (10) / (11) / (12) / (13) / (14) / (15) / (16) / (17) / (18) / (19) / (20) / (21) / (22) / (23) / (24) / (25) / (26) / (27) / (28) / (29) / (30) / (31)/ (32)/(33) / (34) / Epilogue
Annexes: (Bonus chapters) (1)
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[The ship in 5 Minutes]
Back to Main Masterlist
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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🍁=nsfw
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Ewanverse Headcanons
𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘
• Aemond Targaryen
🍁 All Aemond fic tracklist
🍁You Were Always With Me - possessive!Aemond x Reader [completed]
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Synopsis: You've known Aemond all of your life, but when war breaks and your House chooses a side, Aemond have no choice but to do everything in his power not to let you go.
To Risk It All - On Going [𝒜𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝓍 ���𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓇𝓎𝑜𝓃!𝒪𝒞]
• Tom Bennett
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🍁 Gone with regrets - Tom Bennet x Reader [In Progress]
You are a French girl that had the opportunity to teach in Manchester, and you had been lucky enough to be granted a bed at the Bennett’s place. [...]
𝕺𝖓𝖊 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖙 / 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘
• Aemond Targaryen
It'll Be History - [college!Aemond x Reader]
Dubious Headlines - [modern!Aemond x Reader]
[Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3]
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🍁 You Belong To Me Now - [darkish!Aemond x Reader]
🍁 Unhealthy Addiction - [dark/drugdealer!Aemond x Reader]
• Memorised - [Aemond x bestfriend!reader]
• Will (Salad Days)
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🍁 Is there anything left for us? - Will x Reader
[Part 1/ Part 2]
𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓:
Michael Gavey x Reader
Mentor!reader x Aemond Targaryen [Hunger Games AU]
Unhealthy addiction - part 2 & 3
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☆All of my GiFs are available under the tag #usermyfandomprompts or in my description.☆
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐
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Warning: Angst, spoiler for episode 10 (I promise there will be more Aemond after this chapter) (Part 1 - Part 3) Masterlist
Summary : You are content in Dragonstone, until the news of the King's death reaches the Fortress. You have no allies, and so you go to the only place where you don't expect to find him.
You were happy at Dragonstone. You were absolutely delighted by Rhaenyra's children, both old and young. The babes were incredibly sweet with everyone, and you felt the loving family radiating inside the castle walls, love that you did not feel in the Red Keep.
Jacaerys and Lucerys were both quite busy but they still found time for you, inviting you to some of their activities, tending to their dragons… You were intimidated by both Rhaenyra and Daemon, but it passed quickly as you remembered how considerate Rhaenyra was, and how much the Rogue Prince liked a good joke. The only thing unplanned was the length of your stay. You've been in Dragonstone for far longer than you and your father had intended, not for the displeasure of Ser Lorent Marbrand who was your only close family inside the great walls of the fortress. You had asked several months ago to extend your journey, and everybody had agreed. You missed your family a bit, Helaena and your friends, but you were dreading your return. The return to him.
You shivered from your thoughts as you entered the great hall. You had just come back from the library down one of the towers, having finished studying healing properties of seaweeds when you heard that the Princess Rhaenys had just landed in Dragonstone by one of the guards. You stumbled upon some lords and Daemon all standing around the table as you advanced further into the hall. Feeling like you were not in your place, you tried to sneak away as graciously as possible, maybe go to the beach where you knew the princes were sparring, but a horrifying scream froze you into place.
You rushed toward the screams, crossing the room and not bothering about what the Rogue Prince and the lords there might think. You found Rhaenyra in agonising pain, clutching her belly, maids feet away from her, as lost for what to do.
You ran to her, trying to steady her, "Princess, what happened? Why is this happening?" You knew it was too early for the labour to begin.
"King Viserys, my father, is dead," she announced through gritted teeth when she was able to look at you properly. You froze as she grabbed your arm for support. She cried of pain once more before keeping on. "Prince Aegon has been crowned today. In the Dragonpit."
You said nothing as images went through your head. The grief of the Queen, Aegon with a crown on his head before the people, swinging his sword above his head... His grandfather, protector and wife at his side, as well as Aemond.
Aemond who always found Aegon not fitted for the throne, but supported him nonetheless. Aemond who was fierce, wiser and more willing to be crowned, but always took his duty as the second son to heart, no matter his opinion on the matter. Aemond, who rose higher and higher as the years passed, surpassing his brother in everything aside from debauchery. Aemond, who was certainly standing at his side as his brother was crowned king, standing tall with his usual stance, arms behind his back, eye scanning the room.
You were not feeling well. All of the implications of such an event dawning on you. You were separated from your family, and you had no idea what would happen to them, as they have always been loyal to King Viserys, and always found Otto Hightower manipulative enough to achieve his dark schemes. And there you were, with the true heir to the throne giving birth month too early, and no means of action.
The new Black Queen gave birth to a stillborn, and was crowned during its funeral. All went fast. Lords were demanding war as Rhaenyra tried to slow them down, preferring diplomacy. When her sons volunteered to be messengers for the lords who had pledged loyalty to her, including Lord Borros Baratheon, you couldn't help but intervene. The Baratheons were some of your kin, your aunt married one of their lords and have lived in Storm's End ever since. So you required of the Queen to be sent there with Lucerys to be mainly an asset in the negotiation, but also because you wanted to be with your family in order to better step out of this fight. You wouldn't do anything until you had news of your father. Ser Lorent, ever protective of you, did not succeed in changing your mind.
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You learned that you were to fly on dragon back, and you weren't enchanted per say. You enjoyed flying, but the only dragon you have ever ridden was Vhagar, and there was much more room than Arrax offered. However, you arrived in Storm's End several hours later.
"It is best if I enter alone," Lucerys said at first. You wanted to argue but a roar echoed through the courtyard. You turned and saw Vhagar lifting her head above the walls. You swallowed.
He was here.
Part of you wanted to run into the hall, hoping he'd be right there, but the other part of you feared the moment you would see him. You could not allow yourself to give up all the hard work you had done while you were away from him. Not at a moment of such crisis. Your head told you to stay put, but your heart was longing for just a sight of him, a glance, a word.
You stayed outside as the rain started to pour and Lucerys entered the hall. Vhagar seems to recognise you from afar, as Arrax became more and more agitated. You tried to soothe him but you weren't his rider and failed to even approach him. You took shelter under the porch when the rain started to blur your vision. After a while, the doors opened again, the guards revealing a Lucerys as agitated as his dragon. You struggled to hear him above the loud thunderstorm.
"Y/N, you must stay! Find your aunt, I must warn my mother as soon as possible, it's-," he quickly looked at the doors behind him, tension emanated in waves from him, and you were starting to be scared. You wanted to know if he had seen Aemond, though you felt like you already knew the answer.
"It's too dangerous on dragon-back!" he continued over the rain, "I'll come back for you, meanwhile, if you have affection for my family, please try to convince Lord Borros to take our side!"
You wanted to argue once more. Too dangerous on dragon-back? You just arrived this way, why not depart the same way? He feared something, and you felt it. But how long will he be gone? What had happened? 
However, your wishes were becoming true: you were exactly where you wanted, you had the opportunity to stay away from the halls of Dragonstone where battle strategies were surely planned, as well as away from the halls of the Red Keep. Your desire to step away from the boiling conflict achieved. Although it seems here, in Storm's End, you were running toward another diplomatic disaster.
Lucerys hugged you briefly, at your own surprise. You reciprocated his affection before watching him speaking to Arrax and mounting him, flying away with haste. You looked over the wall. Vhagar was invisible to you now. Was Aemond gone too, or was it just too blurry for you to see?
You announced yourself, and the guard let you in. Lord Borros was surprised by your presence. You thought it best to exclude the fact that you came with Lucerys at first, because if you were right, the meeting between the Prince and Lord Baratheon did not go well. If you were to appear as a guest and not demand alliances away, it would be smarter. So you settled to only ask to see your kin.
At first, you dodged the questions of your arrival with ability, but when your aunt arrived you were finally able to relax. You learned that Lord Borros has refused Lucerys' demand to honour the oath his father made to the Black Queen, and that shortly after, Prince Aemond, who had arrived the day before, had demanded his eye in return for the harm he caused him all those years ago. You were expecting to see him appear in the hall at any moment, but you were told he left. To chase the younger Prince.
Panic took you at that announcement. You barely managed to admit that it was Lucerys that brought you here with the calm demanded of your position, and finally you were able to take your leave. Your aunt was glad to see you, but looked very worried. But it didn't matter. You wanted to rush outside and scream into the storm for Aemond to return, not to harm his nephew. 
You were useless, dragon-less.
Hours passed. You were settling in your aunt's apartments, tormented, the storm still raging outside. You thought you heard a roar several times over the raging sea, but you saw nothing from the window of your tower.
Then you heard it, a thud over the storm. Vhagar had landed. You rushed out of the room, and started to descend the many stairs that led to the great hall. You barged in. Aemond was standing there, soaking wet, head down, facing Lord Borros still seated on his throne.
"What happened out there, boy? What did you do?" he demanded.
Aemond was still staring at the floor, his expression was unreadable, but not for you. He didn't have his usual smirk, his eye weren't focused on his surroundings. You haven't seen him like this, ever. You dreaded what he would say next. You didn't want to hear it.
When the Prince looked up at the Lord on his throne, he let the silence linger a while longer before talking, "Lucerys Velaryon is dead. Slain by Vhagar."
The room went silent, and the world twirled before your eyes. Seconds later you were on your knees, clutching your chest for air, as cries of despair escaped you as well as a flow of tears.
"No!" You didn't hear yourself scream, but at that he finally saw you. You were there, on the floor, still wet from the weather, now surrounded by ladies of the court who tried to steady you. What in the seven hells were you doing there? You couldn't be, not now, not after what he had done.
His legs instantly moved toward you, he wanted to reach you, to touch you, "You murdered your own kin?" Lord Baratheon roared.
He stopped in his steps at the question, still too far from you for his taste. His heart was heavy. He didn't look away from you as he answered, "I searched for his remains, in vain," He was not sure if you were able to follow anything that was happening around you now, but his words were meant for you. "I never intended for it to happen. It was an accident."
The rooms filled with whispers, and after a deep breath, Lord Borros announced; "You are still our guest, my Prince. I expect you to honour the promise you made to me and my daughter, and my loyalty shall not falter."
You struggled to open your eyes, you had no idea of how much time had passed since you collapsed. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? When you came to yourself, you were still in the hall, people of the court looking at you and Aemond much closer than he was before. You didn't hear anything that was said, and the ladies around you finally managed to make you stand, your aunt among them, worry written all over her face.
The room was dismissed, your aunt immediately advised you to rest in her apartments, and Aemond who finally had the opportunity to come toward you, was afraid that you would once more escape away from him.
And indeed you were faster. Ignoring your aunt, you freed yourself from the hands keeping you steady and rushed for the door, to the rain. You needed air, and your heavy breathing didn't help calm yourself. He wanted to protect you, that is why he didn't take you on Arrax. And now he was dead. Because of Aemond, because of the man you always wanted.
You felt dirty, empty, and the pouring rain was hurting your skin. You felt something on your arm, almost like a caress, a hand grabbed your elbow for you to turn around. Silver hair entered your vision and you saw an eye watch you with worry. You escaped from his hold at once, and the next thing you knew, you had slapped him. 
He didn't say anything at first, slowly looked back down at you with a lazy eye. His silence was louder than the storm above your head and it annoyed you. It annoyed you and you were angry. So you began hitting his chest with your fists, repeatedly, weakly, almost screaming in rage. He didn't flinch, he let you harm him for a moment, eye boring into you before clasping your hands into his, putting a stop to your doings. You struggled, begging him to let you go, but he didn't. He pulled you close, waiting for you to calm down, to be still.
"You killed him... Your own nephew," you cried. "How could you...?"
He just stared at you, sadness filling his eye; "I never meant for it to happen," he stated.
You watched him, taken aback. He looked sincere. Or were you still this weak?
"Nevertheless, he is gone. Onlt the Gods know where he lies. And you didn't want this? I've been told you demanded his eye, I see you settled for far more," you said bitterly.
"What is done is done!" he said, angry now. "My mistake can never be redeemed as his own never was. My only solace is in the fact that I did not want this, Y/N," he shook your arms as he continued; "I don't care what is said about me now, but I never wanted for you to be in pain."
You barely held a sneer from escaping your lips; "This is all that matters to you? My pain? Then you should have thought of this years ago, before you-"
"You abandoned me!"
A loud thunder came at the same time. You were silenced by his words, your ears ringing from the pain. You were exhausted.
He took a deep breath and his voice became firm.
"You abandoned me. How long were you planning to stay away in that damn fortress? Months? Years? All of your life? The very castle I could not set foot into, and you never returned. Ravens forgotten, friends as well," he talked louder now, "Do you know how many times I thought about flying there to steal you away? You had no right, no right to go away like this. The thought of you, happy, away across the black water bay made me-," he stopped himself, and the next moment he softened your grasp on you, as his shoulders relaxed.
"Now it's different. You are to return to the Red Keep, with me. Your father misses you, it is long due you take your rightful place," he continued coldly, like he hasn't snapped moments before. 
You watched him with narrowed eyes, tears still coming down on your cheeks. You saw his eye look at your lips briefly, then back at your eyes. Even if you were momentarily taken aback by the movement, you let nothing appear as you slowly manage to free yourself from him. You gave him one last look, lifted your dress up and walked away. You needed to be alone, where he wouldn't be.
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-0- Part 3
@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 3
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Masterlist (Part 2 - Part 4)
Warning : Angst, fluff
Summary: After your confrontation with Aemond, you get sick and is to stay in Storm's End for now. His insistence in your care forces you to navigate the many feelings you are struggling to hide.
A/N: Short chapter but next one coming sonner than expected
The day after the dreadful events that occurred over the Shipbreaker Bay, you were stuck in bed, sick from the harsh weather you endured the night before. The apartments you were kept in seemed gloomy, for not the many comes and goes of your aunt, the maids and sometimes some Lords who were keen to check on your health. In reality, you knew they wanted to know what exactly you were to do now that Lucerys Velaryon, the boy you came with, was dead.
You mourned deeply, quietly. Ravens were sent to Dragonstone, but you were to stay here. You would honour the promise you made to your friend, and try to convince Lord Borros to keep his oath to the Queen. Although you were to stay in bed as advised by the maester, you preferred when visited, to be seated and able to make conversation graciously, even when it cost you your forces. Although you had claimed not to be able to swallow anything edible, some maids still brought you food early in the morning, and when you noticed what was on the plate, you forgot to send it back at once. Tea and cinnamon cake with cream, and you understood why the maids went against orders. You remembered better times in King's Landing and you smiled.
It was at dusk when you woke up from a restless slumber, and the figure sitting next to you started to move. Your aunt often came to keep you company at your bedside, knitting or else to pas the time. But as you adjusted to the light, you saw a purple eye looking down at you.
You straighten up in your bed, forgetting the fact that you were only in your nightgown. Seeing him after everything that was said last evening made you bitter. He must have felt your resentment because he fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably, unable to tear his eye away from you, none of you willing to let go anyway.
"You seem to be regaining some colours, my Lady," he said quite clumsily, eager to break the tension.
"No thanks to you, my Prince," You didn't really mean it, but you couldn't help from trying to fluster him. He only nodded gently, eye resting on your form, going silent.
And then you felt it, his grief, radiating through the distance that separated you and reaching you. You both shared it, even if his was overwhelmed with guilt. Both Aemond and Lucerys grew up together, when there was a time of childish innocence in the Red Keep, filled with games and complicated glances. Only after Driftmark has Aemond become fierce, unforgiving, but still, he grieved for his nephew, and you understood here and there that he couldn't show his mourning to the others. Only with you.
"...What happened up there Aemond?" 
The question left your lips before you could stop it. You spoke softly, and when he looked at you he only saw tenderness, encouraging him to confide in you.
"I chased him," he admitted, looking down only at his hands he anxiously fiddled with, unable to meet your eyes. "Vhagar grew restless and would not heed my command as she went for him. I believe... I believe Lucerys found himself in the same predicament as Arrax fired at Vhagar against his consent."
He stopped. You were petrified. Had it really come to this? A deadly dance of dragons, too young or too old to be properly tamed?
"Vhagar did not let this pass. I tried to hold her back, but she found Arrax above the clouds as he fled and..."
The end of this sentence died in his mouth and your hand reached for one of his, bringing it toward you on the bed. You still held his gaze when he finally looked up, surprised at your sudden touch. A sob escaped you as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb, sinking into the comfortable atmosphere of your shared grief. He watched your movement over his skin for a while before speaking again, sadness forced to be left behind.
"As soon as you feel better, I will take you back to King's Landing."
"So you wish to steal me away after all," you remarked.
His smirked resurfaced briefly as he continued. "Do you not wish to see your father again?"
You thought of your promise to Lucerys. And then you thought about what your father would say if you were to put yourself in danger when you didn't even know where he stood on alliances.
"How is he?" you asked, concerned. 
Aemond knew what you implied by your question as he now took his turn at caressing your hand. He knew that your father was loyal to King Viserys, and not to the Hightowers.
"I came to find Lord Donnel the morning of the death of the King. I knew he would not stand for Aegon. So I convinced him to bend the knee nonetheless. My grandfather was to gather the lords in order to make them pledge to my brother. I couldn't let your family become traitors, so for your sake, I went to him."
Darkness almost filled the room now in this already gloomy atmosphere. You heard waves from afar as you still watched Aemond as if you wanted to make up for all these months of distance at Dragonstone, far away from his warmth.
"He wasn't easy to convince," Aemond continued absently as he now intertwined his fingers with yours, "He was concerned for your well-being, scared you would be held hostage. He even dared ask me permission to join you, behind my mother's back. But only when I promised him to bring you back to him that he agreed to bend the knee and stay."
He looked up at you, his eye intensely focused on your expression now, "Thank you," you answered. 
Indeed, you were glad your father didn't follow his honour for once. You have heard what has happened to traitors to Aegon II from Princess Rhaenys back at Dragonstone. The fate of your family was not sealed yet, and your brother was too young to be enrolled in all of this madness.
Aemond was closer to you now. You looked at his eye patch covering his scar. You never saw what was underneath, because as you heard him say one day: he did not want to scare ladies like you at court because of his looks. You had laughed at the time and never dared to ask him to remove it. But now in the dim light of some lit candles and the feeling of his fingers over yours, you were tempted to reach for it and lift it up yourself.
With his free hand, he reached for a strand of hair resting on your shoulder, playing absently with it. It was a pleasant sensation, repressing your need to lean into the gesture. You both kept company to each other, and the warmness that filled your body as he was closer and closer to you was very much to your liking.
A servant boy broke the spell as he entered your room, and announced that Aemond was asked to meet Lord Baratheon for dinner. Aemond didn't move a muscle, obviously annoyed as he didn't even turn around to look at the intruder. The latter did not shy away, however, and continued to talk. "My Lord wishes that you spend some time with your betrothed, as he hopes the marriage to be held under two moons."
At this statement, Aemond's eye shot at you, tensing as his grip on your hand became more firm. He witnessed your reaction, and what he saw made his guilt greater.
Was Aemond to marry one of Baratheon's daughters?
Of course, you thought. Only this could the Greens offer to the Stag Lord, as Lucerys was already promised, and Lord Borros was too proud to be whistled away by only an oath his father did more than twenty years ago. You felt sicker somehow, silly as you hadn't even realised it could be a possibility. Aemond was free to marry, Alicent smart enough to use this to their advantage, and Aemond too loyal to refuse.
Your heart was getting heavier, your hand freeing itself from Aemond's as your eyes began to fill with tears. Again. You were sick of crying. You felt betrayed, but you couldn't do anything about it, it was you who chose to go away when you had doubts about the twins' father. You had no play in this.
The twins. You had almost managed to forget about it, in denial of the truth. But it all came back as a wave, and you felt like you were sinking, your hand covering your mouth as to steady yourself. You ignored Aemond as he said your name with a hint of despair in his voice.
"Please leave me," You managed to say through aching lungs, "Your host demands you, it would be rude to make him wait."
He watched you for a very long time, you felt like a prey as you tried to make your body as impassive as you could, not allowing the blond-haired prince to see anything other than anger, not even looking at him.
When another maid came to request both the servant's presence and the Prince's, only then Aemond turned away in great strides, taking a last look at you as he passed the doors.
You were alone at last, and despite the pain in your head, you stopped your tears from flowing, looking at the void, not moving a muscle for what seemed like hours.
Sadness engulfed you once again.
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You barely ate the day after, you had stayed up most of the night watching the moon over the sea. The last thing you knew, maids were in your room with the mission of dressing you for a visit. You understood the Lord of Storm's End himself was to meet you in your chambers.
Honestly, you felt better, but you avoided admitting it to your aunt because if you were allowed outside, you could cross paths with Aemond, or even one of Baratheon's daughters. You didn't know why you were behaving so unladylike, but in your grief, it didn't even matter any more, you just didn't want to bother.
Lord Borros was an impressive man, suited for battle, no doubt. When he went to sit across from you, you sat yourself after him and waited for him to speak, "From what I heard, my Lady, your father has recognised Aegon Targaryen as King," he stated.
You nodded as he continued, waiting to see where it would go.
"However I am to understand that you just came back from many months spent at Dragonstone."
You swallowed. So it was about your allegiance, the very thing that had you betray your loyalty for the late King, and your father's. "Yes my Lord, I was under the maester's care, as I am studying healing properties of plants and the volcanic terrain of Dragonstone submitted many more species to study."
He hummed quietly at that, seeming momentarily lost in thought.
"I thank you for your hospitality, my Lord, my aunt and your people have taken great care of me," you took the opportunity to say while he seemed to ponder something.
But he hummed again, and a flash passed through his eyes, "I understood that Prince Aemond was planning on taking you to King's Landing on dragon back."
You tensed. He said that, did he? You never really talked about this with him, and you sure were not eager to leave with Aemond now, after everything that has passed. You were mustering a response when Lord Baratheon interrupted you.
"He seems to spend a great deal of time with you."
"We grew up together,, it is only natural for a friend of the court to check on the health of his subjects, as it has been long since we've seen each other," you managed to say, more and more suspicious.
"Do you know he is meant to marry my eldest daughter?" he asked again. Not waiting for you to respond, he continued. "And yet I hear he spent the entire afternoon at your bedside yesterday."
You didn't flinch as you felt your heart thaw a bit of the ice you recently built around it. The thought of Aemond watching you asleep for a whole day, putting his duties aside came into your head in flashes. He indeed was there when you woke up.
"This marriage is a great arrangement, my Lord, I must congratulate you," you chose to ignore his last comment as you smiled. A fake smile, but a smile nonetheless.
The dark-haired man seemed to lose his patience and advanced in his seat toward you. "My court is very observant my Lady, and I will not have my daughter humiliated for rumours of disloyalty and non-allowed courtship."
His tone was harsh but clear. You stood tall in your chair, as to prove you did not fear him, "I believe I see now what your concerns are, my Lord, and I assure you, I have no wish to talk to or even see the Prince, for even his sight reminds me of the loss I have recently endured."
You were half lying. Of course Lucerys' death would not be as easily forgotten, Aemond's greed for revenge completely responsible, but on the other hand, you spending time with him yesterday sent mixed signals to any external observer. And to you.
However, Lord Baratheon seemed to take your last words as a promise, a promise to never deal with Aemond, and it was enough for him. At least as long as you remained here, you thought.
"You are welcome to stay here as long as you wish my Lady," he said right after as he stood up. You sighed with relief as you did the same.
When he left, you thought about your promise to Lucerys. If you were to stay when Aemond was gone, maybe you would be able to remind the Stag to honour his oath and fight for Rhaenyra. Although, after this encounter, the chances were greatly diminishing.
You settled yourself to think of a plan now, completely unaware that Aemond Targaryen had listened to the whole conversation, hidden behind the door. He had meant to come and see you, but as he heard his host’s voice from the inside of your room, he had patiently waited until he heard his name.
As he was now descending the stairs, he tried to control his emotions, his hurt, and not to remind himself of what you felt when you looked upon him. He felt his heart beat faster as he hoped his presence near your chambers would go unnoticed. But as he arrived outside, it turned out to be difficult. He felt his fists clenched at his side and his anger resurfaced.
You would not escape from him, not again.
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-0- Part 4
@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget @jeyramarie @ephemeralninon @mrswhitethornbelikov
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myfandomprompts · 11 months
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You Were Always With Me
[AO3] MasterList - Part 1
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
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Gif owner: @mcqraw Masterlist (Part 34) - (Annexe of the fic) [Ship in 5min]
Summary: Years later, and life still surprises you.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, + something but it's spoilandidontwanttoruinit
A/N: Yes, you read right. This is the end (or is it?). It has been one hell of a ride.
“What is this?"
You were in your shared chambers, having just discovered a brand new gift laying on the covers of your bed, unfolded as you approached it to examine it. As you took it in your hand, your expression shifted to one of disbelief when you understood what it was. 
Aemond had just entered, lazily closing the door with a little smile at your reaction as you now brandished your new gift in his direction, a hand on your hips, scowling. “I believe it to be a dress, dear wife,” he responded with a self-satisfied smile as he closed the distance between you, coming to touch the fabric you held gently. “Do you not like it?”
“It’s a dornish dress. Again . A black dornish dress, might I add,” you pointed out, unfolding the velvet. “It is exactly the same one as when… when I returned from Sandstone.”
“Yes I know, I chose it on purpose,” he simply answered, the memory of that intimate and frustrating  moment between the two of you in front of the fire lingering in the air, so long ago now. “I was quite fond of it, and I want you to wear it in my presence again. Besides, the weather here is mild enough for you to indulge me.”
He calmly parted away from you in order to discard some of his effects on the table near the window, as if asking you to change in the middle of the day was the most natural thing in the world. You narrowed your eyes when he finally leaned against the table and crossed his arms over his chest, expectant, smirking down at you. 
He was right, of course. Even though it has always been hot in King’s Landing, it was nothing compared to the southern temperatures, here, on the coast of the Whispering Sound, at Ivyhorn. Situated between Three Sisters and Oldtown, the castle was always sunny and only the fresh breeze that was coming from the sea could cool your skin. Ivyhorn has been vacant since the previous owners, some landed Knights from the Reach, had perished in the Dance, leaving this beautiful land to your family and Aemond’s as part of the term the Blacks had settled for. Since that time, you have learned to like the place, and so did Aemond, against all odds. 
But you weren’t complaining, it was a good place to live, and you liked the view. And of course, you could dress more lightly than in the north, even though Alicent would often cast a judgmental glare at some of the dresses Aemond would choose for you. But he would relish in your new looks, not missing any opportunity to have you to himself when you two would finally be alone. 
“Oh, is it one of those dresses you mean to shred as soon as the day is over?” you asked, narrowing your eyes playfully. “No point in giving it to me to wear it in the first place then, my Prince.”
He smirked at your remark. “Oh but there is. I will keep buying you dresses, thousands of them if need be, and I would never get tired of ripping them off of your body,” he said, pupils dilated and his tone turning more dangerous. Still he remained unmoving. “Shall we see how long this one lasts?”
His suggestion made you blush, your current golden and comfortable gown suddenly feeling too tight for your body as you shivered, and certainly not from the cold. He now felt too far for your taste, stubbornly frustrating you. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am pregnant,” you pointed out smartly, defying him over the fact that the dress would surely not suit you as well as it did before. But he looked unfazed at your remark, amused even.
“I did yes… Your point?”
You were a fool for believing that he would not be turned on by this, even for a second. During the time that you had been pregnant, Aemond was the happiest man alive, content to see you with the ultimate mark of his possession over you, and the prospect of yet another child in your belly. He liked everything about it: how your breasts changed, how your skin glowed, how your belly grew, how he could take care of everything you needed and most of all, the fact that you could not dress in corsets anymore, rendering your body more accessible to him. You also suspected that his absence during your pregnancy with Naerys weighed on him still, as it did with you all these years ago. This time, he would not be parted from you, even for an instant. And it was most evident here, in Ivyhorn, as he was looking at you with hunger, making you bite your lips in defeat.
Fine.
Without a word, you brusquely deposited the dress on the wooden chest next to you before unlacing your gown with expert fingers, not thinking about the fact that you wish he had done it himself, not willing to admit it even to yourself. You bore a hard and unyielding gaze that did not leave Aemond as the yellow fabric fell at your feet, and soon after, your shift and undergarment.
You saw his eye darken as it travelled your now almost naked body, unconsciously wetting his lips as he did so, but he still didn’t move an inch, patiently letting you grab his gift and put it on. Still defiantly looking directly at him, you swiftly rearranged your hair over the black velvet, leaving the skin of your slightly swollen belly visible, exhaling in a mix of excitement and irritation as you finished your task, arms falling at your sides.
You waited, staring at him, impatient to see what snarky comment he had in store for you, or what he would do, your skin hot already from his intense gaze. He looked at your form for a long time before pushing himself from the table, uncrossing his arms as he finally walked up to you, pupils blown.
“Mhhh… I’m afraid it won’t last long at all…” he said, eye on the way the fabric embraced your curves. He came to push your hair aside, revealing the sapphire necklace on your collarbone. “A shame. It is a good thing I bought five more of these.”
“Five?” you said in disbelief, putting your hands on his forearms as he took hold of your waist. “Surely you jest.”
He brought you closer, burying his nose in your neck as you felt his already hardened state press against your hips. “Does it feel like I’m jesting?” he whispered, processing to trail kisses from below your jaw to your throat.
You could not help but close your eyes and sigh at the sensation, your hand going straight to his hair as he traced his kisses down to your collarbone, his hands gripping the black material of your dress tightly, fingers grazing your uncovered skin.
“No…” you conceded, glad that he was holding you as you felt your muscle going mellow under his touch. “But I was on my way to the sept, in truth.”
He groaned. “Prayers can wait, and so can my mother,” he said as he brought his mouth to yours. “You are not leaving this room until I say so.”
“Until this dress is ruined and shredded to pieces, you mean?”
“Mhh…” was his only response before you found yourself engulfed in his heated kiss, surprisingly soft compared to the way he held on to your waist, one hand coming to cup your breasts before tugging down your dress down your shoulders.
You gave his passion back tenfold, tongues clashing and soon you felt yourself being pushed into the mattress with your elbows as only support, Aemond’s hands lowering you down gently before sneaking under your dress to travel from your breasts to your belly with agonising slowness.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look, round with my child inside of you?” he huskily said, his tongue hot on your skin as he reached the pulse point on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.
“Only…” you began, inhaling sharply when you felt him pull your skirts up and his hand grip your thigh. “A ridiculously numerous amount of times.”
He hummed again, lifting himself up from your body to get on his knees at the end of the bed and take hold of the fabric that covered part of your stomach to pull, the sensation of his breath so close to your inside eliciting chills on your skin. “Make it one more time then.”
You watched as he kissed the inside of your left thigh, trailing up before parting your legs wider, making you grip the sheet beneath you. He took care in meeting your gaze, licking his lips with a grin, enthralled with the way you looked, trembling in anticipation under his touch before slamming his mouth on your core. He did not miss the way your jaw dropped and you mewled, lulling your head back as he did so. 
The sensation of his tongue on your folds was already so exquisite that when you felt two fingers slide into you, you could not help but arch your back slightly. Aemond’s hold on your dress hardened instantly, pulling so you could not move. “Lay still, wife, or I will have no choice but to strap you with your own gift.”
The thought made electricity go through every nerve in your body and you whimpered, action not lost on Aemond who smiled before resuming his ministrations. Seeing you obey him, he detached one of his hands from your belly to reach for yours on the sheets, intertwining his fingers with yours tightly.  
Three knocks on the door made you gasp.
“Fuck-” Aemond groaned irritably, squeezing both your hand and your dress harder as he parted his mouth from your core with an obscene sound. “Leave at once or lose your hand!" he screamed to the door as quickened voices filtered through it.
You had frozen in your position, eyes on the wooden door and hoping that they would be fast gone as you clutched Aemond’s hand, heart beating and a desperate whimper stuck in your throat at the loss of his touch on you. You could hear voices beyond the door, rapidly hushered, like alarmed whispers. They did not depart and you were able to hear some of what filtered through it:
“… heard that? I beg of you… only make them angrier,” was all you could gather as Aemond clicked his tongue in annoyance. But you had grown curious of the voices, suspicious as to why people would have an agitated conversation outside of your quarters in the middle of the afternoon. Aemond groaned loudly when you stood up, reluctantly letting you go as you rushed to the door to open it, determined to find out what it was about.
A maid and Septa Talla were standing there, evidently in the middle of an argument, and the maid froze when she saw you appear. The Septa however, bowed her head in greetings before lifting her chin high.
“What is it?” you demanded, glancing between the two with narrowed eyes. You heard Aemond coming behind you and given the frightened look that appeared on the young maid’s face, you assumed that your husband was seething with anger for having been disturbed during one of his favourite activities.
“It is Naerys, my Lady. She escaped from her lesson.”
You frowned. “Yes, it is hardly the first time,” you blatantly said, knowing full well that Talla was not the most encouraging teacher in the Seven Kingdoms. “I’m sure you will find a suitable punishment for her actions without our help.”
The maid was now looking at her shoes, anxious as the Septa took a deep breath. “Yes my Lady, but I’m afraid that I have been unable to find her.”
You saw the maid close her eyes and hold a breath. “What do you mean you can’t find her? Have you even sent for her?” you asked, her voice a little higher. 
“Yes we did, but it has been an hour and...”
Aemond was out of the door in a split second, making both women take a hasty step aside as he walked straight down the corridor.
You had a hard time catching up with him, Talla hot on your heels as you followed Aemond’s fuming strides downstairs and into the inner garden where your son Aelar was playing under the close watch of Ser Marston.
“Aemond, wait, she could only be hiding,” you tried, desperate to level with him with your short steps.
“I don’t care, we were very clear, she is not to be taken out of sight,” he fumed as he barked at the surrounding guards to look for his daughter at once. “Why did you let her out of your sight?” he snarled, turning to the Septa who had caught up with them.
Talla took a deep breath and tried to remain as composed as possible. You admired her, she was one of the only members of the castle staff that did not fear Aemond completely. But you would not let her indulge your husband in his bubbling fury, instead scooping Aelar in your arms as you chimed in.
“She cannot have gone far,” you assured, smiling at Aelar happy to see you. “We will find her.”
Saying the words, you could not help the mild panic that filled you, and you knew Aemond felt the same way, maybe even stronger. But you were better at hiding it. Aemond was very attached to Naerys, his protective nature and paranoia he felt toward you applied to your children tenfold, and the memory of Naerys being abducted was always looming over the both of you. All of the available personnel of the castle were soon ordered to look for her if they didn’t want Aemond to cut them down. 
Half an hour later you found nothing, and Aemond was starting to be so tense that you feared that he would kill someone. He would not even let Aelar out of his sight as you walked the outside grounds in your search.
“Naerys!” you called, your voice echoing against the cliffs of the bay below the fortified walls. Aemond began to walk toward the edge of said cliff, silent and eye scanning the surroundings when you saw him still, turn and look in the opposite direction, over your shoulder.
“Something is wrong with Vhagar,” he stated blankly before he strode off past you and began his rapid descent toward the beach where his dragon often rested. You had no time to be amazed by the inexplicable and magical bond that linked Targaryens to their mount as you followed him closely.
With your son in your arms, you had to watch your steps more carefully than Aemond and you did not notice him starting to rush to the beach at a faster rate. When you finally looked up you understood why.
Vhagar was there, at her usual place, but she was not alone. A magnificent blue dragon that you had seen only on rare occasions was next to her, her head lowered at something on the ground as Vhagar squealed, her eyes locked onto her new companion.
Dreamfyre, the late Helaena’s dragon, had not been seen since the rebels' attacks on King’s Landing all of those years ago, when Naerys was still in your womb. Aemond had distanced himself from you, running at Vhagar and toward his beloved daughter whom you finally spotted, placed between Vhagar’s protective posture and Dreamfyre’s curious eyes, advancing on the latter.
“Naerys! Do not take another step!” you heard Aemond yell as you caught up with him. Vhagar moved to stand behind her rider as she continued to watch Naerys' approach on the blue dragon, fascinated. You stood between Aemond and his mount, your heart beating fast.
“But father, look! It is a blue dragon! It just landed here to greet Vhagar!”
“Naerys, please stop and come back,” he implored, not willing to approach the now wild dragon closer in case it would startle her. However, the already closeness in which your daughter was with the beast had Aemond pause and watch how Dreamfyre only peered boringly at her.
You watched, amazed. “By the Mother, is that…”
“Dreamfyre,” Aemond finished for you. “She has been missing for years.”
“Aemond, we have to get her out of there!”
Aemond reached for your arm over Aelar and caressed it without taking his eye off Naerys who kept advancing toward the blue dragon. “I… I think it is alright. Vhagar would not be as calm if there were any danger. You know how protective she had been of her.”
“But Aemond she is only a child, surely she…”
But you went silent as Dreamfyre suddenly shifted her neck towards your daughter, making both you and Aemond jolt. But the she-dragon purred as she pressed her snout against Naerys' tiny raised hand, her hair wavering at the strong breath of the beast, making her giggle.
“Did our daughter just… bond with Dreamfyre…?” you said in disbelief, appalled and watching as Dreamfyre turned her head to look more closely at Naerys.
Aemond did not answer right away, too amazed to let the words out of his mouth. “I… don’t know. She would have to ride her to be certain.”
You indignantly looked at your husband, mouth agape as you considered the matter very dangerous, but Aemond only squeezed your arm reassuringly before letting go of it and walking closer to Dreamfyre, making Vhagar squeal slightly.
“Dōna, do you remember the words I taught you? In High Valyrian?”
Naerys turned her head at her father, happy as she touched the scales below Dreamfyre’s nose. She thought it over.
“Uh, some of it. I know Draca-”
“No! No dōna, I know you know that one but we will try something else, alright?” Aemond said as he raised a hand to make your daughter listen. “Do you remember the command I tell Vhagar when I want her to pay attention?”
“ Lykiri !” she proudly said, making both Vhagar and Dreamfyre tilt their enormous heads. Both you and Aemond watched how the blue dragon looked at her with burning and curious eyes.
“Yes, very good. Could you repeat it to Dreamfyre?”
“Dreamfyre? Is it its name?” she said, looking back at the dragon in awe. “I like it. Lykiri!”
Dreamfyre took a step back and bowed her body lower, abandoning all of her menacing posture from before. Aemond turned his head at you, sharing a confident look with your widened one.
“Very good. Now do you remember the word for ‘flying’? Can you say it to her?”
Your daughter thought hard, before raising her finger in the air.
“Yes! I remember!” she said brightly before taking a step back as well and inflating her chest, ready to yell. “Soves! ”
Dreamfyre titled her head again but did nothing else, and you felt your heart drop into your chest as you already pictured the worse, taking a few decided steps towards your daughter, but Aemond remained calm, extending his hand to stop you.
“No, you don’t move,” he commanded you, pointing to the spot below Vhagar’s wing, where you would be protected. He reported his attention to his daughter. “Sȳz, dōna. Now try again, try calling her name,” he said in an encouraging voice.
Naerys looked at both of you before staring back at the she-dragon, looking at her like she was a huge wall that would not budge and desired nothing more than to move it. “Soves Dreamfyre, soves!”
This time Dreamfyre raised herself of all of her might, making Naerys step back a little and Aemond completely take you out of the way protectively. She then flapped her wings once, twice, and a few heavy steps after she was in the air, making Vhagar flap her wings as well in approval as she watched the dragon circle in the sky above them. Naerys was giggling, not tearing her eyes from the beast as you rushed at her side to pull her against you.
“She is so beautiful!” she said against your belly as Aelar was also watching the dragon with amazement.
“Naerys, do not ever go to a dragon you do not know! You could have been-”
Aemond’s hands went to rest soothingly on your back before crouching to level with his daughter.
“My brave little Naerys., he said before scooping her into his arms. “You might be even crazier than me,” he smiled, his expression so proud that you could not help but smile at the sight as well. Dreamfyre roared as she circled closer to the ground.
“Aemond, this was dangerous,” you weakly scolded.
“I know,” was his only reply, a huge smirk on his handsome face making you escape a laugh.
“Can we keep her? Like Vhagar?” your daughter asked, looking between the both of you.
You both exchanged a look as Dreamfyre landed roughly near her eldest.
“Yes, I think that would be fine,” you said, caressing her face fondly. Aemond dropped her carefully on the ground to let her run toward Dreamfyre again, under the scrutinising gaze of both her parents. “She is only six…” you breathed.
“Yes. It might be the earliest bonding to an already hatched dragon since Aegon the Conqueror.”
You both watched as Naerys entertained herself in roaming her hand all of the length of Dreamfyre’s neck and back.
“Aemond, I am warning you, that if I see her on her back and in the air before her tenth name day, I will confiscate all the dragons. Even Vhagar.”
“Mh. This is quite unfair. The bond between a dragon and a rider is too strong, if she wants to ride, she will, and I won’t be able to do much,” he said with a teasing smile on his face at your threat. “Besides, she had flown for the first time when she was only three months old.”
“On Vhagar! With you, an experienced rider who knows how to fly! Not…”
Aelar babbled in your arms, and Aemond stepped behind you in order to wrap his arms around you both, resting his chin on your shoulder. Exactly like the first time you had been on Vhagar with him. “Nothing will happen to her, I promise. Look at her.”
Naerys was now seated in front of Dreamfyre who was resting her head on the ground, her snout stroked by her new rider, purring.
“If Vermithor comes next, I swear I will not let Aelar out of my sight,” you announced, stroking your son’s hair. You then listened to Aemond ask his son about which dragon he would like best, and you knew he was doing this to tease you.
You smiled nonetheless.
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Here is a wonderful fanart by @cyeco13 of this last scene! (or almost). She is absolutely fantastic at Christmas gifts and is so very talented. It must have took her days to do the Dreamfyre but she still did it! I cannot look away, the art is so pretty. Thank you so much!
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Put that fan art from @jinniwiin on Twitter too because I find it is one of my favourite and suits Aemond and Naerys in my head.
Check out Annex chapters for more on this fic (1)
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So, here it is.
I specifically wanted to say that very early on I figured that it would be hella difficult to write a happy ending with both Aemond not dying and the Blacks 'winning' at the same time, and it has been difficult. Turns out I found something, but I am not happy with the logic of it (I like to do things canonical (sort of) so even though I’m happy with what I’ve wrote relationship wise and epic wise, the ending it a little far fetched politically, but meh, I enjoyed it, and I hope you guys did too.)
I’ll also say that the story would have deserved to be longer, after Alys especially, but unfortunately I have to focus on my work now, hence the “rushed” ending.
Next time, I promise to do better, even maybe wait for season 2 so I have more ‘information’ to write a good fic about. Yes, I’m never letting Aemond go. EVER. This guy won’t die by my hand I assure you (looking at you Miguel.)
Don’t forget to check out my other works! This is not over.
And thank you for reading. So much. Your reactions were everything. I’ll be happy to answer any question you have, don’t hesitate to spam the ask box.
Love you all. And especially @babyblue711, thank you so much for you support, as well as @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan who I won't be able to thank enough. And everyone of you. I mean, it was everything. Thank you.
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@let-love-bleeds-red@crazylokonugget@jeyramarie@ephemeralninon@mrswhitethornbelikov@dudfahsn@missusnora@queenofterrasen418@honeytrapsblogp-graham@heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88@ivartheblessed@xceafh@bubbletae7@omgkatherine01@tzipora-art@signyvenetia @ml0103 @nsainmoonchild @lonadane @skythighs@bietchz@samnblack@mariaelizabeth21-blog1@projectcampbell @ripdragonbeans @caribbeangal@polireader@zillahvathek@moni-cah @literishdegree99 @a-beaverhausen @thekinslayer @maniccrystalhippie @princessofdarkwinter @isaxbella749@claudie-080102@ebaylee422@hydrationqueensworld@crumblychunksofheaven@officiallyunofficialperson@grungegrrrl@stargaryenx @dark-night-sky-99 @notanenthucutlet @saeselkie
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔
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Summary: You finally depart for King's Landing. What waits for you is uncertain, except for the fact that you are completely taken with a certain Kinslayer.
Warnings: Fluff, angst. Masterlist (Part 5 - Part 7)
It was cloudy, still dark since the storm passed hours ago. Vhagar just awoke and was as hasty to leave as you were.
Only Lady Cassandra, her younger sister, your aunt and the maester were present, others too scared to approach the she-dragon or too early for them to be even up. Aemond had managed to advance your departure and a maid had come to fetch you at dawn. You learned that Lord Borros and Aemond had briefly talked, announcing his sooner leave and surely exchanging cold courtesies. The Lord had no desire to attend their outrageous departure.
You hugged your aunt, thanking her for everything, and you smiled down sweetly at the youngest Baratheon who was mesmerised by Vhagar. She was the nicest, you thought, and you shared with her your hope to see her again as she shared hers as well, waving her tiny arm to you when you walked away toward the scaled beast.
Aemond was conversing with his betrothed, taking much too long for your taste to say goodbye. You tried not to see her arm snaking up around his upper arm and his mouth kissing her hand that had been on the most intimate part of your body only hours ago, before he finally turned away from her. Walking towards you, he helped you up first on Vhagar, her height being a real challenge for you, then got up next and settled in front of you after making sure you were well strapped. He said no words as he commanded his mount to take off and you were shaken up upon the air. 
You felt troubled. The last time you had flown, it was on Arrax. Harmful feelings came back at you, unsettling. You were now on the back of the beast who took Lucerys' life, starting a civil war that you were diving directly into.
Moreover, you felt insecure. Physically. Behind Aemond you were barely holding on the wooden hooks of the saddle, and each flap of a wing made you feel like you would fall at any moment directly onto the sea. You struggled to keep still as your muscles started to become sore because of your efforts. But you shall hold on until the end.
Aemond's silence troubled you too. But you did not have the time to think about that because you felt Vhagar lose altitude and soon you were landing on a rocky cliff, Storm's End away from view. What was happening?
Aemond let go of the reins and turned to you, started to untie the straps that kept you on the saddle hastily.
"Finally, some peace. Let's stop this farce and come on the front," he said, untying the last rope above your thigh.
"What?" you said, bewildered. "You made us land so I could exchange seats with you?"
You were ignoring the fact that it was also the first word he has said to you today.
"You will be much better in front of me. Decency had me put you behind for all of those lords not to be offended, but this is ridiculously dangerous. At least once in King's Landing, no one will dare to utter a word. Now come on, get up," he said, extending his hand to you.
You only crossed your arms in defiance. You would not let him be right in implying you were not capable of enduring a rough ride, even if you had believed your end near a few times over the last minutes.
He sighed at your reaction, dropping his hand in exasperation.
"Always so stubborn, are you?" he said tauntingly. "Do not tell me you feel comfortable there, I could almost feel you cringe in anguish behind me."
You lowered your eyes in defeat, untying your arms. Yes, you would feel safer, so you took his again extended hand and got up, walking around him to reach the front.
Vhagar shifted abruptly, and you lost balance, only Aemond's shooting hand at your waist preventing you from falling. You felt your cheeks turn red at the touch and tried to hide it at once, but failed.
You settled on the front saddle, curious as to why Aemond hadn't even moved, that's when you understood that he just intended for you to take place directly against him, squeezed within the short space of the saddle. You felt your cheeks turn hot again as his arms came at your sides to grab onto the reins.
But he didn't take off. You didn't know why he chose to stop but you felt his hair tickling your shoulder and you became very aware of his closeness. His nose touched the side of your neck and you jolted at the touch.
"I'm sorry," he said.
At that, you frowned and proceeded to turn fully toward him, with difficulty you might add, because you were so close that you did not have enough space for your movements anyway.
"What are you apologising for, Aemond?" you asked, more lost than before.
He was watching you with a serious look, almost sadly.
"For everything you've been through, what I have put you through Y/N. I know how you feel when you look at me. I heard you say it, you feel the pain I brought upon you. The grief," he confessed, looking down.
Your heart softened at the confession. However you also felt anger, anger at the fact that he was torturing himself for something you didn't mean. You weren't ready to admit it fully, but you sure would make him understand that you would not allow him to see himself as a monster. Because to you, he never has been.
You grabbed his arm at your side and squeezed, urge written over your face.
"Aemond, whatever you heard me say to that man was a lie, to protect myself. I would never-" you stopped, emotions starting to take the better of you. "I would never make you feel this way, not with me. And I assure you that you have no idea how I feel when I look at you."
His eye shot up at yours, suddenly filled with interest. You haven't meant for those words to leave your mouth but anger got the better of you.
"I don't?" he asked, the ghost of a grin on his lips. You turned over, your back to him again, and sighed, muttering a response.
"No. But I'm sure you'll know one day."
This day would be the day you fully admit your feelings to yourself, but this day was not today.
"And what if I know already?" he said softly.
Your heart jumped in your chest, and you felt his hand grab your chin, turning your head on the side and he kissed you.
It was incredible. It has nothing to do with the feverish kisses from the night you spend together. This one was full of emotions, full of meaning, as if all those years you spent together, growing up together, even growing apart, was flowing through it. You only felt him, all of his guilt, his insecurities, his anger and will. But you also felt his pride, his loyalty and his affection.
You also hoped he felt it too. Felt your affection, your desire, your want of him, your tenderness for him.
The kiss lasted for a delightful eternity. You didn't want it to end, but when it did, it left you with a lightness in your heart you couldn't describe, and you didn't detach your eyes from him, too keen to look upon his features until the end of your days.
"Are you scared?" you whispered. His eye went to your lips briefly, as to make sure you talked, leaving his blissful trance.
"Scared?" he asked, confused.
"To return to King's Landing. To confront your family about... everything that happened."
He took a breath and nervously moved in his seat, his head then went to rest on your shoulder, lazily. You were beginning to think that this stop on the cliff was not only a reason for safety settings. He was reluctant to return, you felt it.
"I will be alright. What is done is done, now we must prepare for the future and hope my brother will be suited to the task," he said against your ear, but eye staring at the distance.
You nodded in silence, unsure of what to say. He deposited a kiss on your neck and proceeded to strap himself in his seat before commanding Vhagar to finally head for home.
It was much better. Holding on to one of the wooden sticks for support and Aemond's strong presence holding you from behind. The flight turned out pleasant, and you wish it had lasted longer, because soon the Kingswoods were in sight, telling you that the red city soon will appear.
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Vhagar landed in the courtyard of the Dragonpit, merely too big for it already. Dragonkeepers were approaching her and Aemond lowered himself into the ground before extending his arms to help you down as well. You still felt overwhelmed by the flight and you asked yourself how Aemond managed to ever leave this sensation each time he dismounted his dragon.
Criston Cole, the Commander of the Kingsguard was the first to meet them, or rather, Aemond, as he cast you a curious side look when your feet touched the ground.
"My Prince, I am glad to see you. I was asked to tell you to meet the King and the Queen Mother as soon as you were to arrive," he said.
Aemond only let you go when he was sure you were alright and looked at the knight, nodding. You knew he dreaded it, even a little: the long due reunion with his family.
He strode after Cole, his usual menacing demeanour restored, but you didn't move, unsure of what to do. You were not really involved and you didn't really like Criston Cole, his sadly known bursts of anger made you uncomfortable. However when you saw Aemond stop in his steps and glancing aside, seeing you not following, you began to walk to him when his expecting glare reached you, like a silent command. You did not acknowledge Cole's annoyed look, but you were sure Aemond did.
The trip to the Red Keep was uneventful, the carriage silent, Criston stiff as a board on the side, Aemond, elbows on his knees and deep in thought. As for you, facing him and sharing his anxiousness, you had no choice but to stay silent. The white Knight was one of the only people Aemond would drop his hard façade in front of it seemed. You, of course, included.
When you set foot into the front yard of the Keep, you first saw the Queen, impatiently waiting for Aemond to appear, and next to her your father smiling at you. You bowed quickly to the Queen who barely acknowledged you before going to your father who embraced you tightly. You saw from your peripheral view Aemond glancing at you briefly, almost missing the nod he gave your father, before following his mother inside.
Once in your apartments, your father spoke to you in all seriousness, asking you details about Dragonstone and Rhaenyra's reaction, and you tried to remember as much detail as you could. You told him everything, from Rhaenys' arrival to your departure from Storm's End, leaving the part where you have been with Aemond.. Then he told you everything, from the death of the King to the news of Lucerys' death. You noticed that he didn't mention his talk with Aemond about your return and his allegiance.
He told you of his plan, to find a way home to the Westerlands and to withdraw in your House's seat at Deep Den, waiting to see where the war would lead and take, if presented, the opportunity to support the Black Queen. In his mind, the Greens were losing, having not enough dragons, and greater houses standing behind Rhaenyra. You knew he wanted to protect your House, to protect you, avoiding being labelled as traitors if the Greens were sure to lose, but you hated the idea. You didn't want to talk about that future, a future where Aemond would be sent to prison, or rather, put to death, labelled as a traitor. It was an unbearable thought as you tried to listen to your father.
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The day passed, finding your habits again inside the court. You didn't see any members of the royal family for two days. Even your father was busy in strategic meetings when he was not locked up in his office.
The second evening, a servant came to your door as you were conversing with your father and requested that you meet Prince Aemond at dinner. There was no mistake in your father's worried feature as he sent the servant away, claiming you were not feeling well and that you could not attend. You argued furiously with him, but he didn't want to hear a word. "You cannot indulge him like this! I'm sorry darling."
You believed him sincere, but you realised that dealing with Aemond in the past had been a great sacrifice for him, and you hoped that rumours that emanated from Storm's End had not reached your father's ears yet.
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Aemond was fuming when the servant gave him the news. Were you ill again? Since you came back, he didn’t have any opportunity to see you, even from afar. It annoyed him greatly, he was content in managing the coming war in counsel, eager to prove his abilities to the Kingdom, but he missed you.
Aegon chose that moment to erupt in the room, and took place beside him in front of the fire. Aemond sighed in annoyance.
"There you are brother! You left so quickly after the meeting, it was like you were chased by a demon," he said.
Aemond hummed, staring at the fire. He wasn't in the mood to talk, even if his brother surprisingly wasn't as drunk as usual, though it was already dark outside.
"I thought you liked planning the death of thousands of soldiers on the battlefield! Good work today by the way brother. The Blacks will be vanquished!" Aegon said as he raised his fist in the air.
Confronted to his brother's silence and inaction, Aegon chose a different strategy, a grin forming over his lips.
"I heard interesting rumours about you and a certain lady brother. Anything to confess of your stay in the Stormlands? Apart from the glorious death of our strong nephew, of course."
Aemond looked at him wide eyed as Aegon continued.
"I mean, I don't blame you. The Baratheon girls are not known for their beauty, and Y/N is definitely much better-looking than any other women inside of the Red Kee-"
"Careful brother, you have no idea of what you are talking about," he interrupted coldly. The last thing he wanted was to draw his brother’s attention to you.
“What's the matter? Did her father Lord Donnel scare you? He obviously doesn't regard you in high esteem, but I would have thought you more cunning." 
Aemond sighed again. Yes, her father was very protective of her it appeared, as Aemond learned that he had refused many proposals of marriage without your knowledge, and was now very keen in keeping you close. It was one of the reasons Aemond didn't ask for your hand all of these years ago, this and the fact that he did not find himself worthy of you at the time.
Now it was different, and Aemond felt that everywhere you'd go, your father would follow now.
"It's none of my concern. Lady Y/N cannot be married at this time as House Lydden cannot start to make alliances in times of war such as this. It would be too high a risk for her Lord Donnel to take, without mentioning the wrath of Casterly Rock," Aemond concluded. 
“So I am to understand that you triggered Lord Baratheon's wrath in neglecting his daughter over our delightful Y/N because you wish for her to stay unmarried?" he looked at his brother warily. "A shame. If I had been in your shoes, I would have gone for the both of them."
Aemond wanted to strangle his brother, but he stopped himself from doing so, rather finding his composure in the observation of the dancing flames before him. Aegon was disappointed.
"Well, you are no fun tonight. I will let you to... whatever you are doing and find me a girl to keep me warm."
And Aegon left, leaving Aemond’s murderous eye as he was furious at the treatment he imposed to his sister-wife. But his thoughts soon went toward you as he relaxed in his chair.
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Days passed again, and you were finally allowed to see the royal twins in their apartments, under the watchful care of Helaena who was so glad to see you again. The twins had grown since you last saw them, and their eyes were full of curiosity, looking at you as if they saw you for the first time.
You spend the afternoon at Helaena's side, talking about Dragonstone volcanic terrain, the winds, the sea, the court at Storm's End and the description of the Baratheon's daughter, as Helaena was now curious about her future sister-in-law.
"You will like her, your Grace. She has a happy temperament and I heard that she likes children very much," you said, hiding your bitterness behind your smile.
"Oh but you are too! I've never seen the twins so engrossed with someone before! They like you," she stated. "But tell me, how did my brother treat her? Did he spend time with her?" she asked.
"Well, I could not tell your Grace, but I know they seemed to get along and even went flying on Vhagar at one time," you replied.
Helaena seemed content with her brother's behaviour and went back to caress Jaehaera's hair who was sitting on her lap. But her expression turned sad all of a sudden.
"I fear I will never have the chance to see her become my sister, however, as she will never make it," she said very softly as only speaking to herself.
You started to ask what she meant by that, but Aegon entered the room at the same time. You hid your surprise as it was the first time you saw him in the presence of his pretende-, of his children, you corrected yourself.
"My dear wife. I am glad to see your dazed face today as this afternoon meeting was exhausting. Mother is truly on edge," he said as he went to pour himself a glass of wine.
The twins looked at him curiously, not saying a word. Aegon said hello to them before landing his eyes on you, acknowledging your presence.
"Lady Y/N!" he smiled. "What a pleasant surprise, I do not believe we've seen each other since your arrival from the Stag's nest."
You got up and bowed politely, returning his smile. "I do not believe so, your Grace."
He glared at you with interest for a moment and went to sit next to you, Helaena busy attending to her daughter who had started crying.
"Was your stay pleasant? Did you witness my nephew feeble attempts at a futile alliance?" he asked bluntly. You felt disgusted by his words, but you held your head high.
"No, I didn't. And my stay was too short to enjoy your Grace," you replied.
He hummed at that. "Then maybe you did enjoy other things? Unacceptable things perhaps? For I know you long for them, I’ve been told."
He watched your entire body with lust in his eye before looking at yours again, waiting for your reaction.
You were lost at words. What did he mean by that? Surely...
No, Aemond was not the sort of man to sully your reputation alongside untrustworthy depraved men like Aegon, and you knew they weren't as close. So you chose to look confused.
"I'm not sure I understand your meaning, your Grace. But I assure you that apart from my aunt, nothing gave me comfort in the stag's castle. I fell ill and would not go out often, and it was rather a sad place for me."
He opened his mouth to reply but Jaehaerys' tug on Aegon's pants made him stop, demanding attention, holding a doll to his father. Aegon grimaced at the sight, unsure of what to do. You watched the action with narrowed eyes, Aegon's failure to be a father so obvious before you now. But he surprisingly took the child into his arms, even if the King was clearly uncomfortable.
Now that you saw them next to each other, you saw it, the similarity in their features. You could still see Aemond's similarities in Jaehaerys, but it was less obvious now than before, making you doubt your previous conclusions you had drawn all of those months ago about their true lineage. But you couldn't be sure yet.
A violent wave of anguish hit you like a wave at the thought and you now felt the desire to flee the room. But Aegon, after boringly watching his son play with his doll, decided that it was time for him to leave, finished his glass in one gulp and departed. You sighed in relief as you took Jaehaerys in your arms to soothe him.
Helaena was at your side once more, expression so sweet you were unsure she had even noticed Aegon’s visit.
"I hope they did not take after Aegon's character, for I know him to be cruel sometimes," she said sweetly, stroking the other twin's hair.
"I'm sure they will be alright, your Grace," you said tenderly to her.
"Maybe some of Aemond's thoughtfulness will pass onto them," she kept on, voice hopeful.
You turned fully at that, your interest at a peak as your heart beat harder in your chest.
"Do you mean... Is Aemond..." you stopped yourself in time, recovering your calm demeanour to choose your words more carefully. "Is Aemond close to the children?" you decided to ask instead.
"He takes very good care of them," she smiled softly. "Sometimes I wish he was their father for their real one is not very loving."
She had said that as a whisper, like she again talked only to herself, but you heard her, your heart lightening, all of those months of doubts leaving you all at once. You took her arm.
"I do believe that children are to grow alike those they spend time with, so you see, they will be alright,” you said, truly happier than you have been moments ago.
She looked at you pleased, before starting her quiet rant again.
"His own children will be loved, I know it. For I also know that they will be neither fully black and red nor black and gold," she mysteriously said.
You didn't understand what she said, and you weren't able to ask her the meaning of her words as the maids came in to prepare her for supper. You said her farewell and went back to your chambers, your head full of thoughts.
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-0- Part 7
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
Text
𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖
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Warning: Possessive behaviour, smut, explicit Masterlist (Part 7 - Part 9)
Summary: A feast is held, and you find yourself in a difficult predicament as Aemond reveals to be very... himself.
Your dress was not the most beautiful you owned, but it was still a pretty one. Green, bare shoulders and long sleeves embroidered with your house sigil, a silver badger surrounded by brown threads, the rest of the green merging into your dress. You certainly will be blending in among the expected sea of green clothes at the event tonight, but you liked it.
You were seated at a long table alongside the counsellors' families, your own father and brother two places away from you, as the King's table was raised above the others at the edge of the room, presiding over everyone else.
Aegon II was already seated when you arrived. He seemed tired, his usual dark eyes were even darker and his movements were slow. You almost went to him to congratulate him on his victory and to wish him a quick recovery, but refrained yourself as you were unsure of Aegon's mood, considering his reputation. You would not risk it for now.
His mother and sister wife were at his side, Otto Hightower standing not far from there and talking with whom you knew were Larys Strong and another Lord you assumed to be a recent addition to the Greens.
You searched for Aemond across the room, but you saw no traces of him. People were dancing and conversing happily for the time being and so you went to talk to ladies of the court you knew, under your father's watchful eye.
At one point you were so deep in conversation with your friends about tales of the battle that had recently taken place in the Riverlands, eager to finally hear more about it, that you didn't notice Aemond entering the hall and stop at the nearest pillar, instantly landing his gaze on your form as if you were the only one in the room.
Unlike your failed attempts to notice him before, Aemond certainly could not miss you. You were beautiful, and your dress made him smile proudly. You were harbouring his colours, your hair was finely braided and the sight of your skin that was not hidden by the cloth did things to him that he wanted to explore later that night.
Otto Hightower called for an honorary speech soon after, so you returned to your seat with the other guests in order to hear the King who would speak afterward, but you heard nothing of what was said, rather you didn't listen to a word. Once settled in front of your plate you eventually noticed Aemond already placed next to his grandfather, glaring right at you. You froze as you saw him give you a satisfied smile, so wide that you even thought he was laughing, your heart making leaps in your chest. He didn't let go of your eyes until, still frozen and unable to react to this, you averted your eyes from him and tried to look interested in Aegon's words. He would not like that, you thought, being ignored.
When Aegon's speech received rounds of applause and everybody began to eat and drink, you risked a glance at the Prince, who was, of course, still staring at you, although his smile had disappeared.
Thinking back to your realisation of the last days, on how you would handle your feelings for him, you congratulated yourself in managing to not stare back and just ignore him. At least you thought you were, because your eyes seemed inexplicably drawn to him every two minutes.
Cups and plates were emptied and refilled, while the guests began the traditional dances in the middle of the room, sometimes even waltzing alone in a corner. You spent a nice time despite your anxiety at the feeling of Aemond's eye always on you. As you were watching the dancers quietly, you felt someone take the empty seat beside you.
"I did not see you dancing my Lady."
Addam Vance, stunningly dressed and a smile on his face, looked teasingly at you, cup in his hand. Happy for the distraction, you answered laughing, wine also in your system.
"It is because no one will see me and people would step on me at every move!" you said over the music. "You see, I wear green, thus it makes me invisible among all of those performers." 
He laughed at that.
"I see your point," he said, looking at the green mass on the dance floor. "It seems fashion is risky for a lady such as you, but rest assured, I will not let anyone step on you for your dress is the nicest one I've seen thus far."
You blushed, although you were sure it wouldn't be noticeable because the wine already reddened your face.
"You didn't dance either, my Lord. Are you perhaps only skilled with a sword?" you asked playfully.
"Ah, I fear that my inaction is only the consequence of my lack of a partner, as I am neither married nor in courtship," he sighed, glancing at the room as if to point out its uselessness.
"I do not doubt for a moment you'll not find a lady to please tonight. Most of them are waiting all year for this sort of occasion!"
"And what about you?" he asked, more serious.
"Me? I only dance when I'm forced to," you joked. It's not that you didn't enjoy dancing, it's just that you didn't like the attention.
"Then I shall force you if I may," he concluded with a sweet smile. "Would y-"
"Lady Y/N."
You turned at the newcomer and stopped laughing.
Aemond was standing behind Addam's chair, an unreadable look on his face. He only watched you for the shortest moment before staring straight at Addam, taking his place between the two of you.
"And... I do not believe I've met you," he said in an exaggerated politeness.
Addam seemed taken aback for a while, surprised at the sudden interruption.
"Addam Vance, son of Denys Vance," he introduced himself, as Aemond kept staring at him. "I fought with you in the Riverlands, a glorious victory."
"Yes. Vance of Atranta. The Vance of Wayfarer siding with my traitor of a sister, correct?" Aemond said as if talking about nothing but the weather.
"Yes, we could say that House Vance is as divided as House Targaryen," Addam stated, lightly enough not to appear offensive.
Aemond seemed to consider if Addam was serious for a while, daring to say such things in front of him, but you saw his usual grin appear, the one he used when he was being cruel, and you swallowed.
"Indeed," Aemond spoke. "And what of you, Addam Vance of Atranta, are you proud of your House deeds in the battlefield? I heard your father did a great job in safeguarding the provisions."
You tensed, and so did Addam. You did not know Addam's father's reputation, but you were sure that Addam took Aemond's words as a provocation on a certain level. However, you saw him handle the pressure surprisingly well.
"It was not our main task, but I don't expect a dragon rider such as you to be aware of the footsoldiers movements my Prince, as you were so high up in the sky during the battle."
Aemond's nostrils flared slightly, and you felt like you should make your escape from the conversation as soon as possible. You began to shift in your chair when Aemond answered, still harbouring the shadow of the cruel smile.
"I do not believe you were enough forth in the battle to see me land and fight among my men, only departing when my brother's dragon was under attack, Lord. " He emphasised the last word strongly, a menacing glow in his eye.
"I fear that speaking of such matters is making me dizzy," you chose to interject suddenly, faking a laugh and directing your words at Addam in an attempt to stop him from taking the conversation further. "Perhaps a dance would make me feel better!" you concluded as you stood up, attempting to do just the opposite and leave the two men to maybe join your lady friends who were looking at the cakes not far away from you.
"Actually, this is exactly why I came," you heard Aemond said, his lips curving, stopping you from walking away. "May I have this dance, my Lady?"
You stared at his extended hand for far too long, and when you looked upon Addam who was clearly annoyed at the Prince now, you took the latter's hand. You let him take you far from Addam, relieved that these two were now at a safe distance from one another.
When your hands parted to bow to each other, beginning the dance, you realised that you were finally seeing him properly for the first time since your time in the garden. You felt your body warm up as your bodies turned around each other in graceful movements, mirroring the other guests on the dance floor, his scent overwhelming you.
"I would never have thought green would suit you so well, my Lady," he lied as you met your hands in the middle before stepping away again. You scoffed.
"Surely you don't intend to comment on my clothing while there are better and more interesting things to be said."
"I find the state of your wardrobe quite interesting if it allows me to see more of you," he retorted as you passed by him and felt his finger graze your shoulder momentarily.
"You've already seen much of me, my Prince," you whispered, and you felt out of your bounds, but it was fun as you saw Aemond's eye shot at you at your words with a wide grin. "But I certainly did not see as much of you."
He made you twirl, and you rested in his arm for a short time as the music shifted to a slower rate.
"It can be arranged, you will not find me arguing over this matter," he said, his eyes looking down at your lips and your form before meeting your eyes again and turning around you once more in rhythm.
"It depends. Do you plan to leave often without telling me of your state as you come home from battle? At least I am glad to see you unharmed, I could not be certain you see. From your absence," you accused, not teasing any more. He was less joyous as you kept on.
"You leave for days and the first thing you do is interrupt the loveliest conversation I've had for a while and show rudeness to one of your allies." Aemond's eye lost all of the amusement it harboured a moment ago, only to be replaced by a deadly stare.
"Indeed, my absence surely was a mistake, as I find you ignoring me plainly and then talking to a runt who would not survive more than ten minutes on the battlefield," he said through gritted teeth, his dancing movement forgotten. "Is he courting you?"
You opened your mouth in shock, aghast at his words. You stopped in the middle of the dance floor as well, making the other guests bump into your form, but you didn't care.
"Does it matter? As a woman I am expected to marry and bear children. To him or another, would it be any different?" you replied as anger emanated from you. You hadn't thought about marrying Addam but now it seemed very plausible, he was a very respectful man.
Aemond had closed the gap between you in one step and had grabbed your wrists so strongly that you feared he would snap them. He was furious, and somehow you felt proud that you managed to rile him up like that. However you were already regretting it.
"It does matter. You are not just anyone, you cannot marry to this sort, I will not have it," he said dangerously low, his breath hot on your face. "You will never be his."
"Who will I belong to then, if not this sort?" you said in defiance.
You felt him tense, his gaze lowering to your neck and lingering there for a long while. You could feel him struggling with his emotions.
"At least I would choose this betrothal, and not be bound to someone only for political reasons," you continued, deeply implying his own situation.
Aemond was recovering his senses quickly at your provocative words and you felt his anger grow wider, only to be saved by the music who had stopped to allow the guest to take a rest in the dance still happening around you.
Aemond, not covered by the music and the crowd any longer, was forced to let you go as the dance floor emptied. You massaged your wrist unconsciously, making his purple eye look at your gesture and his features softened a little. But you just stared furiously at him and turned away, leaving him biting his cheek in frustration.
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You went back to your seat for the rest of the evening, carefully avoiding the royal table and always ensuring you were not alone. You felt uneasy because now your father was constantly watching you with a side eye, but you stayed patient, eating the cinnamon cake you've been served and listening vaguely to the conversations.
Addam was nowhere to be seen, even Hugo had seemed to disappear from the hall, and you wondered where they went. You were almost tempted to take a walk around the castle grounds, maybe you'll find someone to talk to outside of the loud room.
"Poor Helaena," you heard your friend say.
"What?"
"The King is so drunk that I would think the wine cellar empty by now. Helaena just retired, it seems, she appears to have one of her episodes, seeing the King in this state. I just saw her leave."
You glanced at the door and started to worry. What if she had no one to take care of her, having escaped without anyone but your friend's notice. Sometimes she struggled so strongly to breathe that you feared for her life. You should go after her.
So you left the table and passed the doors to the inner courtyard, the moon shining on the sleek stones, but you saw no one. You shall begin your search on your way up to Helaena's chamber, hoping to find a maid on your way to inform her of the Queen's predicament.
When you made it to the first floor, you felt a hand grab your side and you screamed, if not for the hand on your mouth blocking any sound from escaping. You were shoved against a wall, and Aemond's eye appeared in your vision, waiting for you to calm down. You tried to hit him as hard as you could at the realisation of his doing, and he was forced to remove his hand from your mouth in order to stop your punching.
"Aemond you-!" you said as he took hold of your wrist again, pressing you into the wall further to prevent you from moving. "I almost went into shock!" you reprimanded him, still furious.
"Sshhhh. Be quiet," he commanded, and you could not see his eye in the dark, only discerning his aware features.
"You expect me to be quiet? After acting this way with me?" you kept on, but he suddenly took your chin roughly and repeated.
"Be. Quiet."
You silenced yourself instantly, the force of his command and his touch like a switch that turned off your boldness. As he considered that you would obey him after a while, he took your elbow and led you to an empty room, only letting you go in order to close the door behind you. You stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed.
"What are we doing, Aemond? Is this your way of apologising for your behaviour? If so, you are failing, your actions already speak loudly for themselves," you said harshly.
He took a deep breath and walked slowly toward you, stopping before he could get too close.
"You are the one who should be apologising, as you are the one who is making me so infuriated that your behaviour could make me forget all about honour," he stated, attempting to control his voice.
"I did no such thing. It is your jealousy that is making you behave like a proper idiot. Am I acting the same way when you are the one who is actually getting married soon?" you exclaimed.
His fingers curled slightly at his side like he was unsure of what to do. You uncrossed your arms and took a step forth.
"This is wrong, Aemond. Whatever this is. Lady Baratheon is due to arrive in a week short and I will not be the one to cast shame on my family name," you said, and you struggled to prevent tears from coming into your eyes.
"Stop this. I know you are not being honest, you don't want to say those things. You don't believe in them."
His face was a mix between anger and resignation as he said that. You kept on.
"It is only a matter of time before-"
"I said stop," he repeated, more violently. "I will not hear this. I will not hear of marriage, of honour, and I will not hear about this dull boy ever again, and of you refusing me, do you understand?" He had advanced on to you in this short time and was now pulling you close, your chests colliding and his lips inches from yours, his scent invading your senses.
"Because you are mine Y/N," he whispered into your lips, grabbing the side of your head.
His tone was threatening, but his touch was soft, and you felt yourself surrender to him at once, unable to refuse him.
" Yes," you said in a breath, closing your eyes and sending everything you stood only moments ago to hell, completely lost and overwhelmed by his presence.
You grabbed his shoulders as he kissed you the next moment, slowly as first, then harder, his hand digging into your hair as he pulled, a moan escaping from your mouth at the gesture.
"Mine," he said while he made you back up against the furniture behind you, making you slam into it in a thud. He worked his tongue over you, entering your mouth and devouring your neck as his hand began to undress you. You felt his manhood hard against your lower half, causing you to arch your body unexpectedly, making him groan of surprise into your ear.
After a while he grew more frustrated at your dress, unwilling to come off, so he grabbed his dagger at his belt and cut it open, ripping it over the front, making you gasp in shock. The cloth unceremoniously fell at your feet and your surprise over the cold feeling of the blade between your breasts was soon replaced by pleasure as he began his ministrations on your chest, the weapon thrown next to your dress on the floor.
You tried to unclasp his jacket as well, so you could touch his skin, feel his warmth. But you were struggling in your haste and you felt flustered, his movements preventing you from properly undressing him.
"Aemond-, I want you, please..." you moaned, and he came to a stop, pulling back up to face you, his mouth slightly open, if you were correct, in surprise. Pure lust was emanating from him now, and you felt overwhelmed by the feeling of him, waiting for him to act.
"What did you say?" he asked in a husky voice, and it was suddenly easier for you to answer.
"I need you, Aemond. Please, just-" you whimpered. He watched you for seconds longer, like he couldn't believe what you had just said and when his lips finally crashed onto yours again, your hands directly went for his belt.
He groaned at your touch and didn't leave you any space to continue as he lifted you from the floor by your waist and carried you over what you gathered was a sofa that you have not noticed before. He looked at your naked form while he was getting rid of his layers, and you couldn't help but sit up to help him, resuming your work over his belt.
The next thing you knew, he was on top of you, breathing heavily, his bare skin against yours, and you felt your inside throb in expectation.
"Fuck," he groaned, biting the skin over your collarbone and sucking it lightly. "Do you want this?" he pressed his shaft against you. "Do you want to feel what it's like? So soft and responsive..."
You let a whimper escape you as he put his hand over your parts, drawing slow circles over your sweet spot.
"So ready... Would the runt make you feel this way? I doubt it, I'm sure he is so ungifted by the gods that any woman he will bed won't be able to reach even the half of what I will make you feel," he said mischievously, grinning and panting as he rubbed his fingers over your wetness more quickly.
And you believed him. Surely no one else than Aemond was as good, and at this moment you wished for nothing else but for it to last.
You arched your back against him as he reached a sensitive spot, and he began to like what he was seeing and hearing, far too much. He just kept going, tracing kisses from your ear to your shoulders, leaving love bites all over your skin.
"Aemond, please, I need this," you confessed within a desperate moan, and he groaned in response, positioning himself over you as he put his arms at your sides.
"Don't move, love," he commanded as he lowered himself onto you.
When he entered you you felt uneasy at first, but because he was watching you so closely, inspecting every move you made, you soon felt like you needed more, and began to move as well.
Aemond didn't expect this and hissed loudly, digging his head into your neck at the action. "You're going to be the death of me," you heard him say, so low that you almost didn't catch it.
He stayed still for a moment, unable to move as you were the one shifting into a more comfortable position, as if he was trying to take control of himself. Then he lifted his head, kissed you deeply and began to thrust, slowly at first, making sure you responded well to the movement of his hips, then he moved faster and faster.
From that moment you didn't register anything any more, just knowing that you had to keep quiet and that Aemond was everything that you needed right now. He kissed you harshly, swallowing your muffled moans as you tried to hold yourself a little longer, but it was becoming more difficult as Aemond went on, hitting every good spot inside of you. Then you finally reached your release, your insides clenching around him as he followed you shortly after, biting the skin where your neck and your shoulder met in an attempt to keep his pleasure quiet.
You felt utter bliss at first, Aemond limp body over yours, keeping you warm as you caressed his back tenderly, panting. Then you felt dirty and panic slightly came, as you realised that he did not withdraw. He felt you tense and looked at you curiously, stroking your hair.
"What's wrong?" he inquired, brows furrowed, and the last thing you wanted to see was hurt in his eye. So you smiled softly as you replied.
"Nothing. I wish this moment could last forever," you said as his hair tickled your face.
It was far from a lie, you did wish this, and you decided that the issue of being with child would be dealt with later.
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-0- Part 9
@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget @jeyramarie @ephemeralninon @mrswhitethornbelikov @dudfahsn @missusnora @queenofterrasen418 @honeytrapsblogp-graham @heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88 @ivartheblessed @xceafh @bubbletae7 @omgkatherine97 @tzipora-art @signyvenetia @ml0103
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
Text
𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕
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Warning: Slight explicitness Masterlist (Part 6 - Part 8)
Summary: You find your old habits in the Red Keep, although war times are making your life quite difficult as Aemond possesses the most fire power.
A/N: This story will be spoiler free of the Dance for now on, as I have not read the books.
You woke up with the news. Aemond and Aegon were to fly off to war within the day, to join the army that had been sent in advance to the Riverlands where the Black Queen tried to surround the Crownlands.
So you were up early, having dressed up alone and your feet leading you to the training grounds, an old habit you had while growing up in King's Landing. You would always venture to where Aemond was at the time, eager to see him spar, excelling at him as he grew stronger and fiercer. It had been a pleasure of yours once. 
And today did not disappoint.
At last you saw him, and this for the first time since your arrival from Storm's End, his silver hair flowing around him as he swung his sword at three men he kept yelling at, evidently very upset. You wondered what made him so angry as you watched him strike blow after blow, a way of externalising his anger, you thought. But seeing him like this, chest heaving as he got the upper hand on his opponents, was enticing, and you couldn't help but think about the night you spent with him at Storm’s End.
Since this night, your sleeps have been restless, overcome by dreams of his touch, the sensations he gave your skin, and by the way he made you see stars, only to wake up in your bed alone and feel empty again. You realised that you missed his presence dearly. During those sleepless nights, you had even tried to reproduce what he so easily managed to do to you back in the stormy chambers, but it wasn't enough. He was. So you grew more frustrated as the days passed, unable to focus on a mere task. And now he was there.
From your position on the balcony above the training ground, you thought yourself far enough not to draw attention to you, but you ended up being quite wrong.
Aemond, like attracted to something he couldn't see, had raised his gaze up toward you and froze on the spot for a while, giving one of his opponent’s the opportunity to strike. Aemond managed to block the blow swiftly at the last moment and send the man on the ground with a grunt.
You swallowed nervously as you now saw him throw his sword away and take great strides toward you, locking his eye with yours as he reached the stairs. Seconds after that, he was facing you, his gaze so murderous that you felt forced to take a few steps back. 
He came very close to your body as murmurs started to rise from the fighting pit at the Prince's sudden departure. Now inches from you, his wide eye frantically searching yours, your throat felt dry, unable to say a single word.
"I've been looking for you, my Lady. Sent for you. But no responses," he said, tone dangerously low. "Do you find it funny in some way? Hiding from me like you did?"
You found this unfair. Not being able to see him was not entirely your fault, as you did go to your usual places around the castle, without mentioning your father's refusal and the fact that Aemond was rather busy in meetings and war preparation. But you were certainly not ready to say that to him, as his body currently screamed for violence, his breathing still heavy from his fight.
"I did not know where to find you, my Prince," you lied. "And no urgency led me to seek an audience with you of late," you managed to say without a flicker in your voice.
This was less of a lie, but you couldn't exactly reveal that you were aching for his presence every single day you walked on this earth. And most concerningly, every single night.
Aemond inhaled sharply at your answer. It was like you had slapped him, and you had no choice but to stand your ground as he took a step closer.
"And what of my urgency? Are you telling me that you are indifferent to it?" he whispered, his breath on your cheek.
Flashes of him between your parted legs and your own failed attempts during your lonely nights came through your mind and you closed your eyes briefly to chase the image. He didn't miss the shiver that roamed your entire body and when you opened your eyes again, you saw his devilish grin appear.
"Ah... Here we are," he said mischievously, and you were sure that something in your eyes shifted, the sign of both your shame and desire.
You sensed a presence near you and you remembered that you were not alone. Two nobles had walked past you on the balcony, glaring at the both of you. Aemond seemed to remember himself as well as he reluctantly put distance between you, waited for them to disappear and gently pushed at your waist.
"Walk with me," he commanded, looking around at the crowd below in the training ground as if he desired nothing but to annihilate all of them.
So you followed, walking side by side at a respectful distance until you reached the gardens at the seaside. The walk was silent, Aemond looking straight ahead, tensed, and you felt compelled to talk, at least to ease the evident tension.
"I've visited Helaena recently, and the children," you announced. "They grew up fast, I even found them to be looking up to their father as they demanded his attention quite sweetly."
At this moment you thought about telling him the reasons you had left all of these months ago to Dragonstone, on false pretences, that now you believed him. You wanted to apologise about not trusting him, in not thinking the twins weren't his, and that it was why you had abandoned him. But you found it unwise at the moment, watching his jaw clench at the mention of Aegon.
"Am I to understand that you saw my brother of late?" he asked.
"Yes I did," you replied, happy to make him say something, anything. "He even showed interest in my stay in the Storm's Lands."
You didn't know why you would say that to him but it seemed to have an unexpected effect.
"I don't want you to be near Aegon again," he deadpanned.
"I beg your pardon? I can't possibly promise you th-"
"Since he became King, he tends to be rather discourteous and forgets himself easily. Even more so than before. It would be unfortunate if I was to be labelled a Kingslayer as well as a Kinslayer."
At this moment you understood that he had chosen to own it. The death of Lucerys. Even though you knew of the guilt he had confessed to you at Storm’s End, here in King's Landing, this incident was viewed as the inevitable consequences of Aemond's short temper and cause of the ongoing conflict. The realisation made you pity him. You never imagined how much Aemond was concealing to the court, to his family.
But for the moment, you sent frantic looks around you, concerned at anyone who could have heard him.
"Aemond! Don't say things like that!" you scolded, glancing around as you entered a more secluded area, and you were surprised to discover an amused look on his face, apparently finding your panicked state quite funny.
"Always so careful," his smile grew wider as he pulled you further into the ivy-covered ruins you were in and before you knew it, his lips had crashed on yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other on your waist, the kiss surprisingly soft considering the many moods he demonstrated since he left the training grounds.
You put your hands on his chest as you gasped for air, looking up at him.
"We shouldn't do that... Not right before you are to leave me, flying straight into battle." You gave him a desperate look. He only sighed and started to play with your necklace.
"It'll only be for several hours," he told you. "Vhagar is the mightiest dragon there is, I will be back before you know it."
"But I'll still worry. This is only the beginning and none of us has seen war yet. So many things can go wrong and I cannot stand the thought of you not coming back," you admitted, unsure of why you were so honest at this moment. You felt one of his fingers graze your cheek.
"Then trust me. Have faith in Vhagar, have faith in me," he said with watchful eyes. "No harm will come to me as I promised no harm will come to you."
You nodded weakly, wanting so dearly to believe him as he put his forehead against yours softly.
"And I find your worry rather appealing my Lady," he continued, amusement filling his voice again. "Is it that you are so enthralled with me that you don't want me to leave your side?" he said jokingly, but you didn't enjoy it as much as him, images of Cassandra flashing through your mind, the woman that ought to be at his side one day.
"Do not jest about that Aemond please," you answered, but he was half listening, taking hold of your hips and bringing you closer in a swift movement.
"And as for this..." he said before pulling you into a kiss once more, his hand taking hold of your chin softly. "I would do it at any moment, even if I'm flying into battle, as you put it."
His confidence made you forget the thought of Cassandra and you were soon lost in his gaze, the lilac of his eye casting a sort of longing you’ve never seen in Aemond before. But the moment passed as he kissed your forehead in goodbyes and turned away, watching him leave the gardens, believing that it was not, indeed, the last time you saw him.
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You spent the afternoon between the library and your father's office, until you decided that you should do something about the stress your body was suffering from. Vhagar and Sunfyre had gone since noon, and dread was now your constant companion. So you decided to visit someone who would share your anguish, and went to Helaena's.
On your way there, you heard muffled crying coming from another corridor. Following the noise, you found a boy, no more than ten years of age, crouching on the floor, head in his hand, hiccups escaping him as he cried.
"There my child, why are you crying?" you said as you extended your hand to his shoulder tenderly, making him look up at you.
"It's- my doll," he stuttered through sobs. "Another boy hid it because he thought it was funny, and when I went to look for it I-, I got lost."
"What is your name?" you asked, smiling sweetly at him. He reminded you of your brother, even if he seemed much younger than him.
"Hugo," he replied. "I am Hugo Vance of Atranta."
"Well Hugo, do not worry, I've lived here most of my life and I know my way around better than the maids. We will find your doll and you'll be returning to your family in no time, agreed?"
Your warm smile seems to soothe him as he looked at you like you were the saviour he was looking for. He nodded, stood up and took your hand as you led him through a well-known hiding place where you used to hide Aegon's belongings with Aemond when he was insufferable to him as a child. You were sure that the hiding spot was still quite popular among the next generation.
And you were right. The doll was found and Hugo, in his happiness, talked all the way to the guest wing where he resided. He thanked you and gave you a warm goodbye before disappearing.
Thanks to him, you had managed to take Aemond off your mind, but it came back quickly as you walked towards the Queen's apartments once again, only to find them quite crowded.
Helaena welcomed you warmly, happy to see you, while intendants and maids were faring around the room, the twins playing with the nurses on the ground. You went to sit next to your friend to greet her, only then noticing the Dowager Queen, Alicent Hightower, looking out of the window, clearly anxious and waiting for her sons to return. You tried not to acknowledge her as the intendants kept bothering her with matters you had no interest in, staying near Helaena the whole time and attempting to escape the uneasiness you both felt considering the circumstances. It worked quite well until you felt the presence of the older Queen coming to sit across from you.
During your childhood, Queen Alicent seemed quite happy with the friendship you had with her children, surely content that they were spending time with others rather than with Rhaenyra's children. But it has been years since she smiled at you, her newly found religious faith and duties making her more and more distant. And now you felt troubled as she gave you side glances that you found it difficult to ignore.
"Do you pray, Lady Y/N?" she asked you, surprisingly taking interest in you.
"I do your Grace. Especially now," you answered simply.
"It is a hard time indeed, my sons are out there fighting, and all that we women can do is pray for their safe return and hope that what we have accomplished is enough," she said religiously. "Is it not quite unfair to be limited by our position when we surely could do much more?"
You nodded, rather agreeing with her, but staying silent before the Queen's strong gaze, however, until an intendant came and requested her attention.
"Your Grace, we have received the list of items requested by Lord Baratheon, regarding the wedding of his daughter to Prince Aemond." he said, presenting a piece of parchment. "You are asked to review it before we may begin preparation soon."
Alicent sighed and took the paper, but you didn't miss the way she glanced at you, analysing your reaction. You let nothing appear as your heart began to beat faster in your chest.
Soon, Aemond will be married to a pretty black-haired girl, and there was nothing you could do about it, more than you already had against your own accord in fact. The thought made you so infuriated that at this moment you feared the Queen would see, but nothing happened.
You wondered if she had got wind of the rumours that emanated from Storm's Land about you and her son, if she believed them. But you said nothing else of all of the afternoon, avoiding the Queen's gaze before retiring to your chambers for the night, more lost at your feelings than you thought you would ever be.
Whatever feelings you were harbouring for him, for the man who would soon marry to a woman who will give him sons, they were meaningless. You would not stand to be the girl who was infatuated with a married man, to your childhood friend, you owed it to the realm. However, the pain you felt in your heart at the realisation told you that you were incapable to suppress those feelings any more, you were in too deep, years of affections now shifting into more and hitting you like waves. Escaping, like you did all of those months ago with Dragonstone, would not work. Nothing would work. So you were doomed to suffer in silence, and keep your head high as you would watch him being pulled away from you.
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It was the next day, after an agitated night filled with dreams of Aemond falling in battle that you learned of his return.
You were having tea with other ladies of the court when your father entered and informed you of the dragons' return. You stood up immediately in relief and excitement but the tensed feature of your lord father made you stop: Aegon had been injured, and was now under the close care of his family and the maesters. It appeared that the Greens' army had been victorious, however, but all that mattered to you is the relief you felt at their return.
But you didn't see Aemond for another whole day, only hearing rumours of Aegon being out of danger as he slowly recovered, but you grew more frustrated as no new information reached you. You didn't even have the details of his predicament, only that he could not make any public appearances of yet.
Another day passed, and you became more upset, unable to admit to yourself why. Aemond surely was not prevented from making public appearances, and yet he was nowhere to be seen.
One night you saw Vhagar flying around the castle briefly and disappearing behind a cliff along the coast. You wondered if Aemond was with her at that moment. It didn't soothe you in the slightest.
On the third day, you heard that a feast was to be held, in honour of the recent victory in the Riverlands and to the renewed health of the King. You were apprehensive for the festivities to take place.
"If I may, my Lady!"
You were on your way to the Weirwood Tree when you heard someone call you. When you turned you saw a young man walking toward you, tall, black-haired and green-eyed. He was easy on the eyes, you thought as he levelled with you in the corridor.
"My name is Addam, Addam Vance," he said as he bowed slightly. "I am glad to finally meet you, as I heard much about you. I believe you have met my brother."
You stayed silent, taken aback by the sudden encounter.
"Hugo," he continued as you said nothing. "You helped him find his doll?" he smiled.
"Oh yes! My apologies." You now saw the resemblance between the two brothers and were relieved that the one before you did not take your silence as ill-mannered. "He is a sweet boy, I could not have let him in this state," you assured warmly.
"Of course, I did not doubt your kind character when he told me that "a beautiful nice maiden" had helped him during my absence," he said with a grin. You felt your cheeks warm up a little at that. He kept on.
"My apologies but, even as I know of your virtues, I do not know your name," he said kindly.
"Oh, I am Y/N, Y/N of House Lydden," you bowed gracefully as you introduced yourself, and he stared at you, not missing a beat of your movement. When you straightened up again, you were curious.
"You said you were absent. Were you in the Riverlands perhaps?" you asked, titling your head to the side.
"I was, my Lady. My father in his loyalty and that of my House, came to fight for the King, and so did I. We've only just returned this morning after days of march."
"By the gods you must be exhausted!' you exclaimed. "I am glad you returned unharmed, my Lord. I'm sure you are looking forward to the victory feast tomorrow as well."
"It will be rewarding for sure, but only a brief distraction, as the war is not over unfortunately. I fear that all of this could have been avoided, but here we are, our only solace is in hoping that all that bloodshed will soon be over." He stated wisely. You smiled, agreeing with him, impressed by his maturity.
Seconds passed where neither of you spoke, only gazing at each other before Addam eventually broke the silence.
"I will leave you be my Lady, as I do not wish to keep you with boring stories of war," he shyly laughed as he took your hand and kissed the back of it. "But I hope to cross your path again soon."
And he left. You did not know what it was, but there was a shift in the atmosphere you did not notice until he was gone. You breathed and resumed your walk, thinking about House Vance.
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Aemond finally landed, Vhagar roaring under him as she lowered her wings on the ground.
It has been days since the battle in the Riverlands and yet he did not have a moment of peace. Upon his return and due to Aegon's injury, it was decided that watching the ship movements between the Gullet and King's Landing was of the utmost importance. And because he was the only one able to fly now, he had been sent above the Bay, surveilling the waters and soaring through the sky. The few times he was back in the Red Keep, it was only for his mother to drown him under matters he did not care about, her worried state always growing more and more now that Aegon was injured. As much as he liked his mother and the war councils, he wished that he could all send them to hell and do as he liked, as he was the only one that could, in his mind, do what it takes to win this war, the only one capable.
But Aemond understood the meaning of duty, and like his mother, understood that he was to do his best to protect his family and the realm.
 So he indulged them, even agreeing to this ridiculous marriage arrangement. If ever the Baratheons were stupid enough to stand along the side the Blacks, Aemond would have burned Storm's End right away, and be done with it. But it was not the way his family planned things. Instead he would wed, in exchange for loyalty. If there was one thing Aemond was familiar with, it was sacrifice, having experienced it first hand when he was ten. But as more time passed, the more he told himself that this marriage was the last thing he wanted. 
Because it would mean that he could not have you completely.
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-0- Part 8
@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget @jeyramarie @ephemeralninon @mrswhitethornbelikov @dudfahsn @missusnora @queenofterrasen418 @honeytrapsblogp-graham @heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88 @ivartheblessed @xceafh @bubbletae7 @omgkatherine97 @tzipora-art @signyvenetia
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
Text
𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓
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Warning : Angst, smut Masterlist (Part 4 - Part 6)
Summary: This is your last night at Storm's end before your depart for King's Landing. To be truthful, you haven't expected it to go smoothly anyway. Aemond is an unpredictable man, and you'll have to start to get used to it.
You were invited to dinner with Lord's Baratheon's family for your last night at Storm's End before your departure, or rather, Aemond's departure for King's Landing, as his status forced Lord Borros to throw a feast for his guest of honour. And to his greatest dismay, he has been obliged to invite you as well.
You were seated rather far from Aemond, who was placed between his betrothed and Borros Baratheon, himself placed next to his wife and others you did not know. As for you, you were on the side, next to your aunt and the youngest Baratheon's daughter, placing the four sisters between you and Aemond, who was for the moment intensely looking at his cup, body slightly turned your way.
You were uncomfortable, as Lord Borros unhidden dark glare toward you and clearly indicating that he was still not happy about the idea of you riding with his daughter's future husband, and you suspected that what transpired between Aemond and yourself in the courtyard earlier had reached his ears.
So you made yourself discreet, and didn't talk much through most of the diner, the Baratheon's daughters clearly the most talkative, all except the youngest next to you. But it didn't prevent you from hearing everything Cassandra, the eldest, had to say to the assembly when she was not whispering into Aemond's ear.
"It was positively exhilarating! Vhagar is such a huge beast, it feels like you own the whole world when you are up in the sky!" Cassandra was happily moving in her seat, her eyes proud from the memory of Aemond taking her for a ride on Lord Borros' suggestion this very day. "I long to see my sons riding dragons as well when their eggs will have hatched!" she continued, her other sisters listening with envy.
Aemond next to her, only bore a polite smile as the conversation continued around him, seemingly still taking more interest in the patterns of his cup. He hasn't said much, at least that you could hear. He sometimes answered the Lord Borros’ questions about his dragon or about other subjects, and sometimes approached his future bride to answer one or her many whispered questions, her hand touching his arm each time they talked.
It was the first time you saw Lady Cassandra. She was lean, pretty, young, and she clearly was eloquent and quick-witted. All qualities that would fare well in the Red Keep, you thought. However, you were already sick of listening to her, bragging about Vhagar and her time with Aemond, of how she would be in her element as his wife and always bringing the subject of the ceremony as soon as a silence needed to be filled.
You quickly realised that you hated where you were seated, because you could see the couple much too clearly for your taste, as well as being very close to the other sisters, and you could feel their curious glares at you, judging everything you did.
"I heard that Rhaenyra gave birth to a deformed stillborn!" said the second sister. "People say she is cursed. What do you think my Lady? You were present when she went into labour, were you not? Was it truly deformed?"
She had to speak loud enough for her voice to reach you clearly now that she was addressing you, her quiet sister separating you not bothering her in the slightest.
You tried to calm your nerves as memories of Rhaenyra screaming in pain came back to you. Some people around you were waiting for your response with interest. 
"I do not know my Lady, only that the grief of losing a child must be beyond any pain I know," you said coldly, the implication of your words heavy around the table as some people glanced at Aemond. "And I do not believe in curses."
You held your gaze to the sister who watched you with a slight grin, then you dared to glance at Aemond, only to find him with his eye already on you. You quickly resumed looking at your plate.
You were perfectly aware of the fear that surrounded the ‘Kinslayer’ curse. You had no care for it.
"The Black Queen sure wears her name well," stated Lord Baratheon who has heard your reply and chose to ignore it. "Darkness would surely fall on the Seven Kingdoms if a woman was ever to rule it."
You ticked at the comment as conversations carried on this new subject. You retreated in your silence when you felt something softly pulling your sleeve.
"Is it true that the Princess Rhaenys escaped on the Red Queen during King Aegon's coronation?"
It was the youngest Baratheon girl, her voice as quiet and sweet as her eyes, evidently eager to talk more about dragons. You smiled, you were the same at her age.
"I did not witness it with my own eyes, my Lady, for I was not at King's Landing at the time. But I saw the Princess arrive triumphantly at Dragonstone on Meleys, the very image of the fierce wife of Aegon the First himself," you said tenderly as her eyes widened in amazement, glad that you found someone to talk without feeling constantly put to the test.
"I was there," you heard Aemond said amidst the other discussions still going on around you.
You weren't aware that the Prince was listening to your conversation, as far as he was from you. But the interaction instantly took all of the sisters’ attention as they looked between you and Aemond.
"Rhaenys burst into the Dragonpit on dragon-back, killing many subjects of the King in the process, not caring one bit for the consequences of her deeds, and threatened us during a royal event, me and my family," he said as to defy your claim, looking right at you. 
You swallowed.
"Maybe both the Princess and her dragon did not appreciate being imprisoned for days when the Princess's cousin had just passed away, an honoured guest in your home. Would you not have done the same if you were separated from Vhagar, my Prince?" you managed to answer, sounding more annoyed that you wanted to appear.
Aemond hummed, grinning slightly as he put his cup down before him. "Are you implying that I would murder innocent bystanders for my own personal reason, for the sake of my dragon and because of my rank? I am not that cruel."
Somehow his words sounded false, but you were both in a game, and you were losing.
"I beg to differ on that matter," you replied. "But I would not sully your good name under our host's roof, for surely he does not want to witness your cruelty, only use your name and title to break an oath for the sake of his daughters while you indulge him."
The table went silent. You realised what you had said too late, not even knowing why your mean words were aimed at Lord Baratheon as he sent you a terrifying glare, clutching on his cup. You shrank in your chair as your aunt lowered her head, bracing for the storm.
"How dare you, young Lady, insult me and my house, when you have done nothing but betray your word and cast shame on my family!" he yelled. "Do you not think I know that you came as a messenger for the false Queen? The Crown could have your neck for that, you'd be well to remember your place!"
Aemond jumped on his feet, all your previous spoken battle forgotten. Although you couldn't see his face, his stance screamed for violence and all eyes were turned to him as he now stood, looking down at Lord Borros with a deadly glare. The latter’s expression passed from fury to careful anger, and began to stand up slowly, almost coming to the same height as Aemond as the two men stared at each other tensely.
"I would be careful boy, you are a royal guest here, but your manners of late has been nothing but disrespectful," Lord Borros said through gritted teeth, trying to remain unfazed by Aemond's surprising reaction. But the Prince spoke nonetheless.
"I would only remind you, my Lord, that this is no proper way to treat a lady, especially Lady Y/N who was obviously forced to do as told by my traitor of a sister... Your anger is misdirected, if you wish to blame someone, blame me for not having her removed sooner from your home." His voice was menacing, and you shivered.
Lord Baratheon didn't take the Prince’s statement as sincere, without even mentioning that he had just been insulted, and you saw him grab the hilt of a dagger at his belt, his jaw tense.
You clutched the arms of your chair in anticipation, waiting for their next movements, but you saw Lord Borros' wife grab his elbow in an attempt to soothe her husband. Aemond for his part, hadn't flinched, and you guessed that he was only glaring at the Lord in defiance, eye wide in focus and anger.
Lord Borros finally let go of his dagger. "You are to marry my daughter under the next moon my boy, this is the new agreement, make sure not to forget it."
And he stormed out of the room, leaving his many guests to finally relax from the tense atmosphere. You didn't move as you watched Aemond turn, seemingly regaining his composure, take Cassandra's hand to deposit a kiss on the back of it before departing from another doorway. You were sure that he had quickly glanced at you before leaving the table, and you prayed that he didn't see the pang of jealousy displayed on your features.
For the rest of the dinner, you felt every eye on you, making you desperate to retreat to your chamber, to leave the very castle, even. Your salvation came under the form of a message that had arrived by raven. The parchment was sealed with your House's emblem, a badger, and so you were able to excuse yourself and leave the room.
The message was from your father.
"My daughter,
I learnt recently that you were at Storm's End and unwell. I do not understand why you have travelled this far, but I hope that you are feeling better as you receive this message. I wish to know by return of raven when you are to come back to King's Landing, to us, as Dragonstone is now a dangerous place to be. Finally, daughter, I would advise you to mind the words you say in court, as I know you are always eager to put honesty above all other matters. However, this is not the wisest course of action currently. Especially given your current entourage.
Long live the King, love, your father.
You folded the parchment in one of your dress's pockets, and lied on your bed. He had signed Long live the King , an obvious reminder that no matter where his loyalty truly laid in regard to the true heir, caution was now of the highest importance. You would follow his advice, and you were glad to have in your possession a piece of your family among this unwelcoming place, especially after tonight. You could see him tomorrow, you thought, in person, if Aemond would really follow his plan and bring you back with him. You smiled as you already felt lighter about your future ride on Vhagar. You couldn't wait, you admitted, and you didn't want to confess why.
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You couldn't really sleep that night, too riled up from the many emotions you had to go through today. You settled to read a book near the fire, finally enjoying some peace before you heard a knock on your door. Cursing internally, you grabbed a cloth to cover yourself, your nightgown a little too revealing for visitors and went to open the door.
He was standing there, tall, fully dressed. He didn't wait for you to welcome him as he walked straight inside, passing by you and heading to the middle of the room.
"Are you prepared to leave?" he asked.
You watched him, astounded as he turned to you in his usual stance, hands behind his back.
"W-what?" you only managed to say, your hand still on the doorknob.
"Did you pack your belongings for our departure?" he repeated. 
You still didn't understand the sudden intrusion. It was highly improper for him to even be here, the dinner still on your mind. You were not sure that you could survive another of Lord Borros’ outbursts.
"I only came with very little, so I do not have to pack really but-"
"Perfect," he interrupted. "I spent the last hours in thoughts and have concluded that it would be better if we were to leave as soon as possible."
"You mean now? Tonight?"
"Yes."
Silence.
"Surely you jest Aemond. It's the middle of the night and it's pouring outside, without mentioning the storm!"
"Vhagar has seen worse. And you should trust both of us to find King's Landing as if we were in daylight," he said proudly. 
What was with him? He was not thinking clearly.
"What about Lord Borros? What about your duty to your betrothed? I do not feel comfortable with this. Surely you cannot think about flying ahead of what has been settled without notifying the court, this is not how it is done!" you tried to reason.
"I don't care!" 
The next moment, he was on you, so fast that the door you were still holding open closed with a loud slam behind your back by the force of both your bodies colliding.
"I don't care, and neither should you! They have been nothing but cruel to you! You have no idea what they all say about you when you are not in the room and they think I am not listening, depicting you as what you are not. I grow tired of feeling like ripping the throat of everyone around me in this damned court. Restraint is exhausting..." 
As he said this, his eye went to your lips and stayed there. You could feel his hand squeeze your waist as you processed what he had said.
"What do they say about me exactly?" you asked, curious, your voice a mix of pain and anger.
He looked up at you before speaking to you like he would to a child. 
"They think you are a curse, given to you by your time at Dragonstone, perverted by the Black Queen. They say you are the reason I do not spend time with my betrothed, among other things."
You watched him with hurt. Of course they thought that. It wouldn't surprise you if the realm was to whisper about the possibility of you being the Prince's paramour in no time, maybe assuming you had been for years even. After all, you were still unmarried, your father too picky in the choice of finding you a husband even though your House was not the wealthiest of the Westerlands.
"Maybe I'm so irritated because they are right to some extent," he whispered when you didn't answer, putting a strand of your hair away from your face.
"My reputation is ruined, Aemond" you said, a tear appearing in one of your eyes. Nothing you'll ever do will ever erase that."
"They are nothing," he kept on. "When you'll be in the Red Keep, nothing will harm you, not even their meaningless words."
He was caressing your face, tenderly, wiping away the tear that fell from your eye. He was right, you shouldn't care.
"We shouldn't leave now, Aemond. This is folly, even if I hate it here, it would worsen our situation."
You grabbed his elbow in an attempt to weigh your words to him. He looked disappointed at them, even if he did expect them.
"I heard you received a message," he inquired.
"From my father. He is expecting me, it seems."
"And rightly so. So why make him wait, hm?"
The sound he made resonated deeply into your being, giving you goosebumps, almost faltering your focus. You glanced at the window, the storm had passed, and the moon was high, radiating its light onto the sea, a good weather for flying. Still you wouldn't yield.
"Aemond...-" you began, fully intending to make him see reason again.
"Raah," he groaned, head falling down over your chest, and hand onto your shoulder. "Why must you always go against me, always so stubborn..." he said as he lifted his head again, shaking it slightly in disapproval.
You watched him, amused by his reaction and almost proud of your character trait's effect on him. Your smile seemed to soothe him as he cupped your neck with his hand that left your shoulder, a grin on his face.
He was greatly enticing, in the moonlight now filtering through the glass. His lips seemed soft, and you felt your heart beating faster. Oh no, you thought.
Your eyes on his lips was enough to shift the atmosphere completely, making you more flustered than you have ever been. He placed his forehead against yours, his breath on your lips, so close they would touch if you moved by only an inch. You shot up to his eye, a fire burning inside it.
"Tell me that you want it," he exhaled, eyes closed. "Tell me that you desire it too."
You struggled to breathe, he seemed to have taken your very being hostage. Your lips apart, you waited for your words to be able to form again, but your arms moved on their own as you put them around his neck and pulled him closer, pulled to him by a force you failed to understand.
Then his lips crashed onto yours. His hand at your waist squeezed so hard it made you wince, but you didn't care, you needed it. His scent invaded your senses as his skin was as hot as burning fire, alike to yours, pressing against each other. He tasted so much better than you ever dreamt of, it sent your head spinning, your shame forgotten.
You moaned as his kiss was turning into a more heated and passionate one as seconds passed, he groaned in frustration when you felt his hardness against your belly.
He kissed you more and more roughly as you allowed your hands to pass through his hair, touching the softness of it, even daring to pull it a little. He groaned at that and left your mouth to kiss your jaw, throat and neck, licking his way down.
"You smell so good, gods you feel so good Y/N," he said in a trembling voice. His tongue was where your neck and shoulder met, kissing it hard, biting even. You didn't mind, it was exhilarating. 
You whimpered when one of his hands struggled with the fabric hiding your chest, warm hands at the base of your neck, squeezing it lightly as he tried to untie the laces of your front.
"Aemond that's-" Good, you wanted to say, but he prevented you from finishing your words, convinced you were going to resist him in some way, so he pressed his knee in between your legs, making you gasp hardly as he pressed against your sensible part.
He watched your reaction with a satisfied smirk, taking the opportunity to speak over your mouth.
"What is it, my Lady? Is there something you want to say? A complaint perhaps? Or did you wish to say how much you like it."
You whimpered again, feeling your heart throbbing against his knee, and you felt his smile through the kiss he gave you as he kept on his ministrations on your laces, satisfied by your silence.
He cupped your breasts, finally able to touch them as he liked, squeezing and caressing them as he once more kissed the base of your neck, getting closer and closer.
You fidgeted a little on your position, causing your middle to flatten against his knee again and you hissed at the unexpected pleasure, cursing at your movement and holding on to his shoulders for dear life as you couldn't help but dig your nails onto the fabric of his clothes. You suddenly hated the many layers he wore, your fingers wanting to feel more of him.
"Ah..." he breathed against your breast, voice low. "Eager already are you? That's good, but I wish to take my time with you Y/N. I have waited all of these years, I can wait a little while longer.”
You whimpered again. Yes .
"I thought-" you hissed as he bit your nipple. "I thought we were in a haste to return to your family."
"Surely you cannot travel in this state," he replied. "Look at you, so gorgeous and needy..." he growled. "I have to take care of you first."
This thought made you weak, his knee now departing from between your thighs. He then proceeded to press himself against you as you closed your eyes, taking pleasure in the sensation.
You felt one of his hands rest on your stomach before absently making its way down, reaching your middle. He growled against your skin as you tensed at the touch.
"Fuck." His hand was now touching the warm and now damp fabric of your gown, discovering your arousal.
His swearing and the position of his hand would have shocked you if you were in any other predicament. Only you realised that you liked it very much with that specific voice of his, as you didn't often hear him swear in your presence. I suited him.
"I'm sure you taste so sweet Y/N, would you like me to taste you?" he asked, in the process of lifting your gown to your thigh and his palm was soon on your warm skin. You gasped.
"You can't even imagine the many nights I spend thinking about you in this way, and now you are everything and more than I hoped," he whispered, his fingers pressing against your inside. His eye went from lazy arousal to hot desire in a matter of seconds, as he stared at your features now completely at his mercy.
You wanted to reply, tell him that he was not alone, but you couldn't, your pride and playful tendency telling you that it would be better to make him beg for you to admit it.
Pure lust showed from his face now, and he began stroking your sensitive spot, pleasure eliciting sweet sounds from your mouth. Suddenly he stopped, took hold of your leg under your knee and put it over his hip. You held on to his shoulder at the change of position when he lifted you up from the floor, carrying you easily.
The loss you felt as he removed his fingers was quickly replaced by his hard state pressing against your soft one as he carried you over to the bed, his tongue lashing into your mouth in the process, and laid you down on the sheets, his body over yours.
It was now easier for him to hold up your gown even if he really wanted to rip it apart, stopping himself for your sake, rather sliding a hand beneath it to caress your belly and finding his place once again between your thighs. His breath was heavy as he watched you arch your back when he finally put his fingers inside of you.
"So tight..." He thrust his fingers again, making shameful sounds resonate through the room. He rested his head on the inside of your neck, glancing at you sideways. You were loudly moaning now, and you worried that you were to be heard outside.
"Gods Aemond I-" you gasped as you felt his fingers hit at the right spot over and over, making you pull his hair in despair. "I need-, I need more."
He chuckled next to your ear, visibly more than delighted that you fulfilled his deepest wishes. You at his complete mercy. But you were not quite there yet.
"It's not very lady like to demand such things without any manners, love. I should be asked properly," he replied, not stopping his movements inside you. You sighed in despair as you considered indulging him, begging was not something you usually did. But his thrusts were making you crazy. So you said it.
"Please Aemond," your voice trembling as you said his name, arching your head back, enjoying the sweet sensation of building pleasure. You reopened your eyes just to see him with an indefinable expression over his face, something between the most menacing stare you’ve ever witnessed, and absolute satisfaction. He then moved his body down from you, levelling his head to the spot between your thighs. You ached in anticipation. He rubbed his thumb on your sweet spot at first, too slowly for your taste, before flattening his mouth on your wetness.
You screamed loudly, and your hand shot to your mouth to stop other sounds from escaping it. His tongue hot against your folds, he was holding on to one of your legs tightly, sure to leave a mark on it later on. You didn't know how much time had passed since this moment, only that you were unable to properly register anything else than the pure pleasure you felt at Aemond kissing you this way. You only knew that at one point, you had put your hand into his hair, grabbing it, and that the other clutched so tightly to the sheet underneath you that you feared you would rip it apart.
At some point Aemond sucked, hard. It was too much, you were close, and your back arched so much that he had to force his hand on you to keep you still. He glanced at you when your moans were beginning to sound more desperate, taking in your sight as you struggled to keep quiet. He kept on his ministrations, devouring you as his fingers found once again their way inside you, and your muscles began to tighten around them.
Pleasure overcame you, your release left you panting heavily. You felt over sensitive as Aemond rubbed your sweet spot softly one last time. When you looked at him, he was already looking intensely at you, lust in his eye, as he had not missed one piece of your expression when he contented you. He licked his lips as he came to rest beside you on the bed, kissing you, your taste still on his mouth.
"You taste so good I would have you attached to this bed all night if I could," he said in a low voice, putting your hair aside from your neck to grant him access. Your breath evened as you find the ability to speak again.
"Would it be so bad?"
He smiled at that, one hand reaching to rest on your stomach.
"Unfortunately, this is not the right place to entertain such thoughts. But soon, maybe," he said mysteriously. You began to shift toward him, curious of what he would do now, his arousal still evident when you looked at his lower half.
But he unexpectedly got up and walked toward the door, leaving a cool sensation as his warmth left you.
"I will let you rest," he said, reaching for the door. "We depart as soon as the sun is up."
When the door closed, you felt the gloom of the quiet room again, engulfing you. You almost felt disappointed, he had put your pleasure over his, at least that is how you viewed it. You shivered, your heart still beating fast.
Soon sleep took you. You were soon to depart, rest will do you good.
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-0- Part 6
@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget @jeyramarie @ephemeralninon @mrswhitethornbelikov @dudfahsn @missusnora @queenofterrasen418 @honeytrapsblogp-graham @heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88 @polireader
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
Text
You Were Always With Me | Annex One-Shot
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Aemond x wife!reader
Summary: Years after the end of the Dance, life goes on with Aemond.
Warnings: vaginal, fluff, pregnancy/labour, light angst, explicit
Note: Is set after epilogue, spoilers for ywawm but if you don't plan to/haven't read it can be read as a one-shot. Masterlist
You swore you could hear it. The faint cracking.
It began to drive you crazy, it was not coming from the hearth, the incandescent ambers casting slim light on the stone tiles of your bedroom, because the fire had died hours ago.
From your position on the bed, you could only stare at the windowed side of the room without  moving your body too much, your swollen belly forcing you to remain annoyingly still at night, and you peered at the big windows at the end of the room where the moonlight filtered. Nothing indicated that something was ablaze anywhere outside either.
Still, you heard the cracking sound.
It was like it had woken you, putting you ill at ease as you looked around your bedroom with your eyes wide open, the chill air of the night making you shiver as you heard an owl hooting outside. At least, it changed from the loud roars and flapping of wings of both Vhagar and Dreamfyre when they decided to go for a nightly hunt. On this night, all seemed calm. 
Except from the cracking.
It was becoming louder by the minute, faster, like something shaking. When you shifted in your furs with the intention of getting up roughly you felt the pooling heat that was Aemond’s hand on your body, resting on the curve between your breasts and your belly, making you hesitate. When you turned to look at him, all you saw was his peaceful pale and fair face turned toward you, his eyes closed and relaxed as he breathed quietly.
Your husband had been there every step of the way, and you were utterly grateful that he had never swayed away from you, always watching over you like a lion would watch over his mate. Or a dragon, and this even in sleep.
The cracking kept on, and after caressing your husband’s hand with your palm you gently set it aside, careful not to wake him up as you lifted yourself up from the mattress and got out of the bed with difficulty. 
The sound was coming from the study, where a bundle of linen that was meant for your soon-to-be born baby was put in a ball, and where the dusk coloured egg was laying. 
You saw it twitch a bit, and your jaw dropped open at the understanding that the egg was seemingly hatching. When you approached it, a louder crack echoed from it as it shook harder, but you had no time to register it as a pang of pain shot in your belly.
You muted a huff of pain as you put your hands on your middle, staring at the ground and holding your breath for the second ache that came through you as the egg cracked again. A third and a fourth stinging ache came a few seconds apart and at the fifth you could not stop the hurtful sigh that escaped out of your mouth.
Aemond’s eye shot open.
“What is it?” he instantly said, alert and lifting himself up, looking around the room with a wary eye before laying it on you. “What are you doing up at this hour? Y/N?”
“I think-” you panted, trying to steady your breath as you acclimated to the new contraction, “I think the baby is coming.”
Aemond was on his feet in a second and rounded the bed to be at your side, taking hold on your shoulders to support you, the feeling of his hands on your skin bringing you slight relief.
“Very well, I’ll get the midwives. Breathe Y/N, everything will be all right.”
He guided you to the chair just in front of the bundle where the orange and golden egg laid, kissing your temple quickly and he left your side, opening the door to your bedroom to shout an order to someone outside before coming back to kneel in front of you. 
He had a wild and worried look on his face, and you could not help but take his hand to reassure him that you were fine. Aemond was strong, but one thing was certain: he hated seeing you in pain, and whenever you went into labour, he was always scared that what had happened during your first pregnancy would occur, or worse.
He palmed your hand inside both of his and you smiled at him. Then a stronger contraction washed over you and you decided that you needed a distraction as the cracking sound continued. 
“Aemond… The egg…”
He followed your gaze directed at the table before laying his eye on the linen. It stayed there as he slowly got up to have a full view of it, his face expressionless.
“How…” He began, but he didn’t have the opportunity to go on when after another crack, a single piece of shell fell from the egg and you screamed in pain, redirecting Aemond’s gaze on you with worry.
Then the midwives rushed into the room among your wails and Aemond’s hand never left yours throughout the night. 
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Naerys and Aelar had already a plethora of names for the new dragon, but Aemond had stated that it was for Maenor to name, and that he shall remain nameless until then.
Your children had been disappointed, but they were too enthralled in their new brother and the sight of a baby dragon to complain, and you have to admit that you, too, had never seen a dragon so small, Vermax and Arrax were already big when you met their riders at the time, and you were fascinated by the golden and orange shade of the tiny little scales of this new one.
But not so much by his already sharp fangs, or by the way the spikes on his back deployed whenever a new servant would approach the crib of your one-year-old son, hissing them away.
But he did not spend all of his time with your baby, to your relief. Naerys had introduced him to Dreamfyre once, under the watchful eye of Aemond who recounted you later how the little twilight shaded dragon had tried to breathe fire at his mother’s snout, and you laughed as Aelar tried to take Maenor from your arms to soothe him, sweetly claiming that he managed to calm him far better than you.
The fact that an egg had hatched during the labour of its new rider was unheard of in the history books, the egg initially meant to be placed inside your son’s cradle at birth, Aemond keen on tradition now that he disposed of two new ones, seeing it as a sign. But his pride when it hatched as you screamed his son into the world was such that he would allow the tiny dragon to sleep with Maenor even during the night, something that you evidently were not too fond of. Once, when you were breastfeeding, the dragon had clawed his way onto your shoulder to look at the baby and with a squeal, had started nibbling with your tiny extended son’s hand. You had instantly jolted in your seat, afraid that he would make him bleed but as Maenor started to laugh, you relaxed, realising that even though the dragon’s teeth were sharp, it never pierced the skin, no matter how soft Maenor’s was.
Late at night, when you and Aemond were alone, you would express your anguish at the fact that with now not one, but three dragons in Ivyhorn, the risks of an accident occurring had improved drastically, making you even regret not having dragon keepers in the south to keep them tamed. But Aemond had had the decency not to chuckle too strongly and proceeded to assure you that nothing would happen to you, him, or any of your children. He kissed your fears away that night, telling you that he had it all under control and you believed him, your trust in him, his confidence and the way he had always protected you being everything that you needed.
A dragon, Aelar had none, however. From the two eggs of Dreamfyre’s clutch had been two eggs, one had been given to Aelar, an emerald grey egg that, to this day, had remained still.
But it apparently didn’t bother him this much, as your first-born son had something else in mind.
“But why can’t Naerys fly me there? This way it would be faster!”
“It is impossible, I have told you before, Aelar, we are not allowed there. Not yet at least, I am sorry.”
“When will we be?” he asked with imploring big lilac eyes, the way they grew wider, reminding you of your husband for whom you would be glad for his presence right now.
But for now it was just you as you hesitated to answer his question. “In a few years maybe. But nonetheless, you will not approach any dragons there, is it understood?”
“But he calls me mother! He is all alone! Father understands.”
“Vermithor is not calling you, there are plenty of other dragons with him!” chimed in Naerys who dropped her knitting on her knees to contradict her brother, “You are just jealous because mine came to me on its own.”
“Naerys, please behave, we’ve talked about this,” you scolded, but Aelar was not the type to cower under his sister's teasing.
“And yet you don’t ride her! Ha!”
Naerys only pouted and looked at you with a saddened look. At eight, you were still wary of letting her ride Dreamfyre, although you suspected that Aemond had allowed her without your knowledge once or twice, for she did not ask about riding as frequently as before.
You sighed before ordering Aelar to drop the topic. “Either you settle down, or I will ask the Septa to read for you instead of me.”
Both children sat back in their chairs with scowls on their face, not wanting to miss the opportunity to be with you and hear their favourite stories. 
“Why is it not Father reading to us?” voiced Naerys.
“You know why, because he is taking part in a hunt.”
“He hates hunting,” pointed Aelar out.
You nodded with agreement. “Yes, I know he does. Still, he has not returned yet. I am sure he will be happy to read you the rest when he comes back, I promise. For now you have me.”
As you read the story, something you had dug up in the library that was neither history nor anything too boring about the Houses of Westeros, Aelar’s voice interrupted you after a while.
“Mother, why do they call you the Stolen Jewel?”
You let the last words you were reading linger on your lips, looking at your son like he had uttered incomprehensible words. “Where did you hear that?”
“I heard some of the guards speak about it. Those who were from grandfather’s delegation.” he answered without any hint of shame in his voice.
Your father, Lord Donnel Lydden, had come to visit you for a whole month weeks ago, bringing with him your family as well as a cluster of Lydden and King’s Landing guards alike for protection.
“I am sure you misheard. They clearly talked about a robbery or such, I am sure,” you lied, trying to not let your surname be known to your children.
“No, he was talking about you. I know because they mentioned father too.”
You closed your mouth, feeling trapped as you nervously played with the corner of your book, sensing the curious gaze of both of your children on you.
“Has it something to do with that necklace you always wear?” asked Naerys. “The one that looks like father’s other eye? Did you steal it?”
You softly chuckle at that, closing the book on your lap and reaching for the sapphire around your neck, caressing it pensively.
“No, I did not steal it,” you laughed. “It was indeed a gift from your father.”
“Was he the one who stole it then?” Pressed Aelar.
You internally sighed.
Very well then.
“No, he did not. You were right, I was called the Stolen Jewel for a time, but it did not last, and it had nothing to do with gemstones, but all with your father.”
“Why is that?” asked Naerys as both children were now hung at your every word. “What does it have to do with you?”
“It’s because… he stole me, I suppose,” yYou stated, earning two pairs of eyes growing wide as you shrugged.
“You? But why did he have to steal you?'
“It is… complicated. I was not always meant to be with your father,” you smiled fondly at the sour memory.
“But he told us that you loved each other since you were children,” protested Aelar.
“We did. But as you know, a conflict occurred in the realm, and everything did not go as your father had planned. So he did what he knew best: make what he desired happen, regardless of whatever people would say. And so he took me away.”
You paused as you watched both Naerys and Aelar look confused before the latter spoke again. 
“Were you lost?”
“No, idiot,” chimed Naerys. “He obviously took her away from someone, didn’t he mother?”
“Don’t call your brother an idiot,” you pointed at her. “And yes, he did. He flew on Vhagar and just came for me, ‘stealing me away’ against everybody’s opinion.”
From the look on your daughter’s face, you knew she was about to say something along the lines of “It is so romantic” and you would not have contradicted her, not willing to tell your children the darker side of the story.
“But why did he have to steal you in the first place? Where were you?”
You bit your lip, not wanting to tell the tale of the Qorgyles and their dark fate, or how your husband had suffered heavy loss during that span of time, willing to spare them from this past story. In any case, the three of you were so enthralled in the story that neither of you had noticed the fourth person leaning against the frame of the wooden door behind you, not missing any piece of your tale.
“I was… betrothed, to someone else. Before your father. But now you know why it did not pursue.”
“Were you sad?” Naerys asked naively, and you swore you saw her lips tremble slightly.
“For a time maybe,” you admitted, fidgeting in your chair as you recalled the fear you felt when you learned that your House had been put under siege by Aemond’s order. “But my sorrow was not for the loss of the man I was meant to marry, for I did not love him as I did your father.”
“How come you did not marry father in the first place then? Why did he have to come for you? I thought he was the son of the King,” remarked Naerys again, and you arched a brow at her intelligence.
"Yes, the brother of one too!" added Aelar.
“Being royalty does not grant you freedom of choice Naerys, especially in times of war.” you flatly explained. “As a matter of fact, your father was also betrothed to someone else at the time, someone he did not choose. So we both were in rather difficult predicaments, all for the sake of duty." 
You tried not to recall how your heart felt at the news of his early betrothal, as well as withdraw the image of any dark haired woman that had crossed his path from your mind before paying attention back to your children.
“What you must understand, my dearest, is that…” you began as you leaned forward on your chair to be closer to them. “Your father has always put his family first, as he would do with you now. He and I have and had that in common, and I suppose that we both had to make choices during these difficult times, even though it was breaking our hearts. But in the end, your father fought for me, and we were able to be together, despite the circumstances.”
Your words created a silence between the three of you, your children muted in their confusion and deep thinking, and you felt the need to reassure them, to tell them that nobody had, of course, truly forced you, that you believed it was meant to be.
You would always have chosen Aemond.
“And I am glad he did. Because otherwise, I wouldn't have had you,” you smiled, pinching the cheek of Aelar that was closest to you, making him giggle and Naerys smile warmly as the tension broke.
The fourth person, who had quietly listened to you explaining the setbacks that occurred for him to finally have you, by pure boldness and determination, decided to make himself known at last.
“And what of me, wife? Are you not glad for my presence?”
Aemond’s voice warmed your heart as you smiled to yourself, your son jumping on his feet instantly.
“Father!” he said as he ran into his arms, his size only allowing him to wrap his arms around his father’s long legs, dirty from the hunt he just returned from. Naerys followed closely behind with burning questions.
“Is it true you stole mother from someone father? Because you loved her?” she asked with a glint in her eyes.
“Yes, and that you flew on Vhagar to scare the lords that had her?” Aelar added with unhidden admiration.
Aemond laughed before scooping his son in his arms with a sigh.
“Yes, I might have, but I truly was left with no choice, your mother kept escaping me. And I’ll have you know, byka vīlībāzmio, I don’t need Vhagar to take back the woman I love from wretched low lords.”
“Aemond…” you scolded as he came to your side with a smirk, and you could not help but give him a smile back, blushing.
“I will certainly not apologise for what I have just said,” he added, kissing the top of your hair before taking place on the chair where Aelar had once been, putting him on his laps.
“Can you tell us the story Father? Did you have to fight for mother?” he asked.
“I did, and I would do it again-”
“I think this will be all for this evening,” you interrupted, giving your husband a warning look. “You had your answer, learning why I was called the Stolen Jewel, as it was only a moniker the court gave me at the time. Mystery solved.”
“Your mother is right, you’ve heard enough. And as pretty as she is compared to the most magnificent of gemstones, you’ll refrain yourselves, or anyone to call her like that. Understood?” 
“But I want the whole story! Mother didn’t even finish the book and this is far more interesting, please father? Mother said that you would read to us,” Naerys implored, perfectly aware that if she was to keep both her parents in the room with her under any reason, she could still question you about the Stolen Jewel as much as she liked.
Aemond exchanged a look with you, silently asking if that would be all right. You did promise them after all.
“Very well,” he exhaled with a smile before opening the book you handed him and began to read. 
His soothing voice eased both you and your children in a comfortable state. They even stopped asking questions about who Aemond was betrothed to when he kept calmly dodging all of them, seeing that it was no use. 
Nevertheless, even though you tried to focus on the words that rolled off his tongue, you could not help but sometimes stare as his lips moving softly as he read, or at the way his fingers turned each of the pages with dexterity. The sight took you back in far away times where you two would read to each other under the shade of a column of the Red Keep. You were both children at the time, but it did not prevent you from finding him beautiful, almost unreal as you tried to suppress the feelings you had for the prince back then, perfectly aware that your friend would never marry to a low Westerlands' lady. 
Then you looked at Aelar whose gaze was lost in the void as he listened to his father, comfortable on his laps, and at Naerys, who was rolled into a ball in the chair, as focused on her father’s voice as her brother, both of them calm at last.
“It is all for tonight,” Aemond’s voice came to snap you out of your reveries as he closed the book in a thump after a while.
“No, I want the rest!” complained Aelar as he looked up at his father.
“Can I ride Dreamfyre?” Naerys chimed in instantly.
“Non” both you and Aemond said in unison. “Go to your room to prepare for supper, you are to have dinner with Alicent tonight,” you finished.
“But why can’t we stay with you?”
“Because your grandmother requested to have you all for herself, and you will indulge her.” Aemond answered as he stood up, deposing Aelar on the ground and walking toward the shelves to put the book away.
“Besides, she would be willing to tell you all of the stories you want, I’m sure,” you told them with a malicious glint in your eyes, knowing exactly how to convince them. “She knows a great deal. She was the wife of the King after all.”
Both children looked at each other with delight before embracing you and running out of the room to prepare for supper. As you sighed in satisfaction, you saw Aemond walk close the door behind them while you tidied what your children had left behind.
You felt little guilt at the thought of imposing your godmother to very curious and hungry children, trusting the previous Queen to deal with them with ease.
“Are you to have dinner with me tonight dear wife or do you plan on inviting some Lady I have no care for as company again?”
“I would never. I crave for some alone time with your husband, I have missed you today,” you answered playfully, not looking at him as you put away the broderies of your daughter and lit some candles. Aemond had walked up behind you, waiting for you to finish.
“Hm. How come the subject of your moniker reached the ears of our children exactly? I do not like people talking about you that way still now.”
“They heard it from the guards. Don’t worry, I doubt they will hear more about it,” you said as you came to face him, your height difference making you raise up your head at him. “How was the hunt?”
“Boring,” he answered as he grabbed your waist to pull you closer gently. “What guards?”
“My father’s,” you answered, putting your hands on his shoulder as you started to massage the spot near his collarbone with your thumbs. “Let us get you out of these dirty clothes, shall we?”
A smirk appeared on his lips as he watched you unclasp his shirt, the subject of the nickname he still muttered in your ear when you two were alone deep at night forgotten. He groaned when you left his embrace to take some of his dirty layers away.
“Shall we take you out of yours too?” you heard him ask near your ear as he was quick to follow you near the window, flattening his hands on your belly as he inhaled your scent, his nose trailing along the skin of your neck.
“My clothes are perfectly fine. But I’m not against it,” you answered, feeling a familiar heat emerging inside of your stomach as he kissed the junction at your neck and shoulder. You had to force his hands off your middle in order to turn around.
“You smell wonderful, wife,” he whispered as you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, your fingers finding their way into his hair and his hands pressing against your shoulder blades with soft strokes. When you parted for air, you kept your lips close to his, slowly sliding his eye patch off his left eye. 
“Were you aware that  your son thinks Vermithor calls for him?” you asked after you let the leather patch fall on the floor and began tracing a path from his jaw to his neck with your fingers, enjoying his warmth. You could never grow bored of this, every minute with him precious to you.
“Yes,” he replied as he looked at the way your skin was slowly changing shade, turning darker, more delicious. “Why, do you not believe it possible?”
“I wouldn’t know,” you sighed heavily as he lowered his head in order to gently suck at a point below your ear. “Did Vhagar call for you?”
“It is more complicated than that,” he said in a breath that died on the skin of your neck as your fingers traced the muscles of his torso. "I just knew I had to go to her, no matter what.”
“He thinks he ought to go to Dragonstone, to ask Daeron to take him one day. To find him himself,” you explained, feeling his hands take hold of your hips to pull you closer, realising that he had unlaced the back of your dress without your notice while he has kissed you.
“Then he shall,” He claimed, one of his hands coming to stroke the side of your cheek as the other travelled all the way up from your hip to your shoulder, tugging at the fabric of your dress to let it fall off to your waist.
When you met his hungry gaze, dark pupils obscuring the lilac of his eye, you shivered. “If my son wants to have a dragon worthy of his blood, of our blood, then he will.”
“Aemond…” you said as you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his touch, igniting fire on your skin. “I don’t think-”
“Shhh,” he said against your lips as he came to kiss you again, silencing your complaint. “Nothing will happen to him, and he will have what he wants.” he assured, the hand that had been on your shoulder now cupping one of your breasts, pressing lightly. “Do you trust me?”
“Always.” you answered without hesitation, opening your eyes to see his shirt finally come off.
“Do you trust me to protect you from harm?”
“Yes.” you stated again, barely able to refrain a whimper from escaping your lips as his tongue ran from your mouth to your neck, creating a familiar heat between your legs. 
He kissed the line of your jaw with a hum of satisfaction before abruptly taking hold of your waist and yanking you around, fingers coming to wrap around your throat without force.
“And do you feel me?” he said huskily against your ear, the tip of his nose now brushing your jaw from behind. “All of me?”
He had flattened his hand on your stomach to keep you flush against him, and as you breathed together, you could feel his erection pressing at the top of your ass.
“Yes.” you repeated as you tried to turn your head to meet his lips again, desperate to taste them.
“Good,” he growled as he finally pulled you into a kiss, twisting your neck so his tongue could explore your mouth completely. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
Once you began to voice your pleasure with faint moans, Aemond’s struggle grew larger and you felt his hand roam your body at an impatient pace, eager to feel your skin under his palm and pressing your closer against his arousal. When you squirmed against his hips he gently bit the inside of your neck in reaction, and you saw an opportunity to lower your hands between your two bodies and reach for the bulge in his pants, eager to have him in your hands.
“I need you, Aemond,” you pleaded as you palmed his length, your body twisted in an uncomfortable angle so you could look at his flushed cheeks and lusty eyes certainly mirroring yours on his beautiful face, his lips parted in pleasure as you began to stroke him. “Please take me.”
He brought his head back with a blissful grunt before coming back to grope your breasts in his hands and kissing you so you could swallow his own moans. “I would do anything for you, Y/N. Anything. You just have to ask.”
With that he tugged at the remaining layers that had fallen at your waist and when it fell down to the floor in a puddle, you heard his belt falling down as well. You felt him place himself near your entrance as your hand retreated back on the edge of the window in front of you to ground yourself. You would surely have fallen if it wasn’t for his hand strongly holding your stomach.
He slid his member between your slit once, twice, moistening it in your wetness, teasing you, and the third time your strangled moan elicited a laugh from him. You grunted in embarrassment before reaching for his forearm behind you to link you to him, to pull him closer.
“Would you be glad to carry a fourth child for me, wife?” he said, sliding it a fourth time as he buried his face in your neck again, licking the sweet taste of your skin, lifting his head to observe each of your spasms and the way your eyes fluttered as he kept on teasing you. “Would you do that for me? I don’t think I will ever have enough from filling you up.”
His words made you moan despite the aching emptiness you felt inside of you, eager to finally have him fully, but you nodded through it nonetheless, squeezing his forearm for dear life as you could feel his heartbeat in his chest flushed against your back, his mouth nibbling at your ear.
He groaned in satisfaction before trailing his hands down to your hips and finally helping  himself into you. The feeling made you both hiss in a united breath before you found his mouth again to kiss, and you moaned against it when you felt him move.
You heard him curse under his breath as you tried your best to meet his thrusts, all the while sliding in and out of you at a steady pace. His face did not leave the side of yours, looking at you whimpering and knitting your brows together in pleasure as you felt your orgasm creeping on slowly. You knew he was purposely making it last so he could keep on muttering praises into your ear, the look on your face exciting for him as he panted against your skin.
“Come on, that’s it, my love. Moan for me, show me how you belong to me.” He groaned through his own pleasure, his fingers digging at your hips, surely leaving bruises there as he kept you flush against his chest. You angled your body so you could take more of him, whining when you became unable to sustain your position and had to lean forward in order not to crumble.
“I got you,” he whispered gently as he lowered himself with you, his hair falling down over your shoulders as he put a hand on your ribcage to steady you, keeping you from falling.
“Aemond, please…” you pleaded, the noises you were making delicious for his ears, each of them perfectly in rhythm with his movements, telling him exactly what to do.
“I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer…”
As he said that his other hand came to press around your throat gently as his hips began to pound into you at a faster pace, and you had to bite your lips to sustain the aching pleasure that his thickness created inside your core, and you both panted as you felt his ragged breaths on you, sucking and kissing your neck.
“Let it go, all for me. Come on, my love.”
A hand came to play with one of your breasts as he tightened his grip around your throat, and it became too much. Several back and forth movements against your sweet spot and you stopped breathing, waves of pleasure taking hold of you as a strangled moan left your lips, instantly swallowed by Aemond who turned your head to meet your mouth hungrily.
Your walls clenched around him and several moments later you felt his release spill inside of you, and it was your turn to catch his lips in order to kiss him as you moved against him through his bliss to make it last as you slowly came down from your own.
When you both stopped moving, panting and sweating, you angled yourself so you could kiss his exhausted state again, from his temple to his jaw that was resting against your shoulder, and when he slid out of you to let you turn around with a hiss, you busied yourself in kissing the length of his neck like it was the only thing preventing your wobbly legs from falling apart.
“Already exhausted, husband?” you taunted against his skin, and he let out a chuckle.
“Never.”
His sly and slightly fatigued smile made you pause and you laughed in turn. He caressed your shoulders and slid his hands down your arms before lowering himself on his knees and kissing his way down to your stomach, stopping there.
“Were you honest? About another child?” he asked, eye hopeful as he let go of your hands to flatten his on your belly under your confused gaze.
“I would have all of the children you want, Aemond, I will never stop loving what is ours,” you assured, your brows slightly furrowed.”Why?”
He rested his nose against your stomach in hesitation as you passed your finger through his hair. He looked up at you, expression unsure now.
“I know how dangerous and unpredictable delivering a child can be. As much as I would love to have all of the children you can give me, I could not bear to lose you. To live without you after it. It's important to me that you know that, regardless of what I ask.” 
This thoughts had often clouded his mind during the years you gave him a family of his own, but the truth was that if he was to lose you because of that, he would be unable to take revenge on anyone, because he would blame himself.
You felt his arms wrap around your hips as you looked down at him pressing his lips on your stomach with affection.
“I know the first pregnancy has not been easy, that you even feared for me. But the ones after that were fine, and I trust that they all will be. Although I admit I do not enjoy being with child every day that the gods make, it is nothing compared to the joy I feel when I meet the eyes that we brought to the world, and the happiness in yours.”
You felt him smile against your skin and you gave in the urge to lift his chin up with your fingers. He followed it and stood up, kissing you gently.
“My wonderful wife.”
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Took the liberty to reinstitute the original tag-list. (Bonus chapter here)
@let-love-bleedsred @crazylokonugget @jeyramarie@ephemeralninon@mrswhitethornbelikov@dudfahsn@missusnora@queenofterrasen418@honeytrapsblogp-graham@heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88@ivartheblessed@xceafh@bubbletae7@omgkatherine97@tzipora-art@signyvenetia @ml0103 @nsainmoonchild @lonadane @skythighs@bietchz@samnblack@mariaelizabeth21-blog1@projectcampbell @ripdragonbeans @caribbeangal@polireader@zillahvathek@moni-cah @literishdegree99 @a-beaverhausen @thekinslayer @maniccrystalhippie @princessofdarkwinter @isaxbella749@claudie-080102@ebaylee422@hydrationqueensworld@crumblychunksofheaven@officiallyunofficialperson @grungegrrrl @stargaryenx
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟐
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Summary: Your life is threatened by Alys, and you see Aemond fading away. What will you do?
Warnings: angst, mention of blood Masterlist (Part 31 - Part 33)
A/N: I apologise for the wait,I have been dealing with things on my own, and it's not fair to you that I slowed down so close to the end. You will find this chapter unbalanced, I’m not very happy with it but hope you’ll enjoy it all the same.
You knew your father had been angry of late, and that it had nothing to do with the upcoming peace council, but everything to do with you, or rather, with Aemond.
The Prince had a beautiful daughter you have given him, yet he had never seen him in her company once. He had a wife that had fallen ill, yet he had not inquired about her. But what irritated him the most was the rumours, the looks, and the dishonour over the fact that a wet-nurse spent this much time with his daughter’s husband. It was bringing shame to his family, his house, to you.
He had said nothing out loud, or in public for that matter, but all the Greens knew, but did not act. All the efforts were concentrated on the fragile peace that had been so hardly won and was close to its outcome, shoving every other matter in the background.
However, matters of the war were not what you cared for at the moment, the pain in your chest and the blue spots you had started to appear in your vision the second Addam had forced you back to your tent after your encounter with Alys your utmost concern. Nonetheless, you still had to act.
But what could you do?
“I need to talk to him, reach him somehow. She wouldn’t let me, it had to mean that she sees me as a threat, and that there is hope,” you said with difficulty, trying to ignore the way the pain in your lungs shortened your breath.
“There is, but I fear that it is too dangerous, my Lady,” Addam pointed out, lowering you gently so you could sit on a cushioned stool. "You are in no state to act at the moment, you need care. Rest. The Gods know what spell she has inflicted upon you.”
“But what would you have me do, Addam?” you said in frustration, unsure of how much your friend had heard from your conversation with the witch. “I can’t rest and let her threaten me, threaten my family and most of all let my husband under her care while she… she…”
Addam’s walked closer as you struggled to say the words, understanding how hard it must be for you, to feel helpless and alone.
“I won’t risk your health or your life,” he said firmly, before his tone became bitter. “Witches are not to be played with. I know of it first-hand.”
You raised a curious gaze to him, sensing his… regret?
“What is it that you know?” you asked, careful, and you saw Addam hesitate.
“I… come from a land where old traditions, traditions that were here before the Targaryens came have remained. Some of the ways of the Andals and the First Men are not lost here north of the Stoney Sept,” he began, drawing all of your attention to his words, and away from your pain. “I have heard of a witch in Harrenhal, but I only assumed that she was long gone, tales of her craft spreading around since before I was even born. With all of what happened here, I did not expect to find one so close to the nobility, even less to act among them with such impunity.”
You frowned, both in frustration and in pain. Addam’s resentment was clearly palpable.
Good, you could use it.
“However deep a wet-nurse is with some Lords of the Riverlands, I will not sit idly by and let her manipulate my husband. I simply cannot.”
“My Lady, you should not take it lightly. Witches gain loyalty from the people around them through their skills and services, they inspire fear among the common folk, wariness. This is how they make people owe them. We will find very little support if we wish to fight her, none from her peers at least.”
“So what do you propose I do?” you inquired louder than you had meant, making him arch a brow. “I have nothing. No powers, no magic, no ways of tricking her as she did with me. No knowledge of her craft...”
“But I do.”
And then he told you about his mother, how she had fallen gravely ill when he was only a boy and the maesters had remained inefficient, only for his grandsire to call on a woodwitch of the Whispering Woods to treat his daughter, desperate. It had angered his own father, Denys Vance, who had no trust in witches and their reputation, and even less in those that were rumoured to practise blood magic.
“My mother survived, but she became only the ghost of herself. Later, my grandfather began to fall ill and died a short while after. It was so sudden, my father did not hesitate to accuse the witch for this disaster, executing her before she could do us more harm, blaming my grandfather for his eagerness to save his daughter. Even in death."
Then Addam said something that made you fear for your husband more than for you.
“My father believes that if blood magic is used, you still lose in the end. Even if somehow you have a glimpse of what you wanted. It is a curse, something only bloodmages of old had managed to master, or so they said they had,” he had continued, stern and in contemplation.
“I am… so sorry Addam. I didn’t know any of that.”
“My father did well at hiding my grandsire’s actions,” he stated, eyes drifting to something you could not see. “He had heard of this 'witch of Harrenhal’, one people around were loyal to, and did not wish to anger her. So he kept it quiet.”
“You mean…” you asked, name lost on your tongue, bitter.
“Yes. I believe we have found our witch. Hidden among lords and babes. This is why I cannot let you endanger yourself if she has you as a target as well my Lady. She had partisans here, people that are obliged to her. She may not have deceived Daemon, but she apparently found other ways to achieve her misdoings after this time."
Your head painted you again, your vision becoming blurry from time to time. You would not be intimidated by this, whatever threat loomed over your own life.
“You sound like I should remain inactive, that I have already lost. You know that I won’t settle for that,” you assured gently, ignoring how the prospect of not succeeding sickened you more than you already were.
Addam bit his lips, pondering as if he regretted disappointing you. But Addam’s weakness for you was greater than his common sense.
“I apologise, I did not mean to make you lose hope, only to preserve you from magical demise, but I now realise that unless something is done, far worse might happen, and not only to you,” he stated, maintaining your tiring gaze. “I will help you. I only heard part of your conversation with the woman, and for now, you must tell me what happened. She spoke of magic having a price, that you had granted the Prince a longer life. What does she mean by that, my Lady?”
You told him everything, from your first encounter with her, to the eye-patch, the ritual, and about your suspicions about the vials, of the way Aemond had been distant the moment you had approached him on that cursed field. How the witch had threatened you and assured you that you had played a big part in your husband’s recovery, even though you hadn't known it was at your own expense.
When you ended your story, Addam did not even let you a moment to breathe, starting to pace around the room agitatedly. 
“She talked of visions, dreams? Of the Prince taking the throne for himself? Surely it would put the peace at risk.”
You nodded, feeling like vomiting, one hand on your stomach. You told yourself that it did not ache for you, but for Aemond.
All for him.
“Where is your daughter at the moment?” he continued, abruptly stopping his pacing to look at you.
“She… is with Queen Alicent,” you answered faintly, confused at his question. Addam approached you once again, sitting on the stool before you.
“My Lady. With my little knowledge of bloodmagic, and I believe that this is what Lady Rivers uses under the cover of nursing and healing, I think that her goal is far more dreary than I thought at first.”
“Whatever do you mean, my Lord?” you spoke, starting to grow very worried since your daughter had been brought into the conversation.
Addam paused, mustering his words as if he was delivering you terrible news. “Blood magic is not only about using blood for spells and rituals, but using a great amount of it. The more blood they have access to, the more powerful they will grow. Only, not that many people are willing to give away their blood, and in the same way, witches do not settle for any kind of blood.”
“But…” you started, remembering that night. “She did not have any. Not Aemond’s at least, she only took an item that belonged to him…”
“But I believe that she did my Lady,” Addam said mournfully, still careful with his words. “Tell me, in Essos, before the Doom, who were considered the most powerful, what blood was regarded as strong, magical, even?”
You widened your eyes in slow understanding. “Valyrians…” you whispered, unconsciously. “It is said that a single drop of blood of Old Valyria is more powerful than any others.”
“Indeed my Lady. You might know even more than me on that matter. House Targaryen’s words are Fire and Blood, both magical ingredients. Powerful in the hands of a woodwitch.”
Then it hit you.
“Naerys! She had her for days, cared for her…”
“Yes. I believe that it is how she had performed the ritual, using Targaryen blood to bind the Prince to herself. Daemon Targaryen would not bleed, not until he would battle, and once he did, he died. On her volition, that is.”
Your heartbeat quickened in your chest, hard. If that wet-nurse had hurt your daughter, she would gain more than your wrath, she would have the whole of House Lydden’s too.
“She used her blood… My own daughter’s blood, so she could take my family away from me? I…” you said in disbelief, finding it hard to contain your anger, but you had to remain calm, to think. “But why not keep her? She gave her back to me. Why not use her blood again?”
“I believe it to be a matter of purity. She had both your blood, father and mother in one, and she made sure to use it to her advantage, without your knowledge. But it would not be enough for her. Even though your husband is the product of two different Houses, he is closer to the blood of Old Valyria than your daughter is, purity being a proud tradition within House Targaryen,” Addam stated wisely. “Moreover, Aemond Taragryen possesses something your daughter does not have.”
You were watching him intensely, impressed by his intelligence and deduction. You pictured the boy, crying for the loss of his mother in Atranta, an experience so unfair that his anger had been directed on one thing only, exactly like his father was: on the author of his mother’s and grandsire's demise, a blood witch. If you had experienced that kind of loss, surely you would have done everything in your power to learn what you could about what had brought you such sorrow, to ensure that it would never happen again.
“Magic itself, in his truest form,” he continued, answering his own question. “Dragons. You see, war and death have potential for magic, one that witches can use, but what is potential when you can have the most powerful magical beast in the world?”
“Vhagar is bound to Aemond,” you stated, almost in disbelief. “She is an intelligent creature as well, and she is no slave. I doubt that she will be able to even approach her.”
As you said that, you pictured Aemond bringing Alys close to the green-scaled dragon, dragging her by the hand as Vhagar cooed, as she had done with you. Shivers dressed your skin again, and with a throbbing pain in your stomach, you felt something wet come out of your nose once more. You grabbed a cloth immediately to wipe it, seeing blood when you looked down at the fabric.
How in the Seven Hells would you be able to come up with a plan in your state?
“She does not need to, for only the mere presence of a dragon, born in the depth of the Fourteen Flames, cared by bloodmages of Old Valyria, is magic, pure. I cannot be sure of what her craft allows her to perform with such creatures, but the prospect of war alongside a Targaryen is an explanation to her deeds, her greed.”
You tried to breathe properly, all of the things you had just discussed sinking in.You felt like you had little time, and fewer options. If you could not reach Aemond, maybe a more drastic solution would work, even if it iced the blood in your veins.
“Then I know what I must do,” you stated, the firmness of your voice barely overcoming the shakiness of your breath as you pushed yourself up. “Or I least try to do. She wants blood to flow, maybe I’ll give it to her.”
Addam saw the darkness in your eyes and realised what you meant instantly, trotting toward you.
“My Lady, this is too dangerous, we’ll find another method, the vials… My Lady?”
You felt like your body was waging war against your thoughts, your murdery intentions, failing you as you tried to reach the entrance of the tent.Your head first started to throb violently, and each breath you took was fire in your lungs. You felt your body fail you, battling against your intentions as you clutch your chest and faintly heard Addam calling you.
Then your vision went black.
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Aemond’s mind was focused on only one thing this morning, only one purpose. It was magnificent, and the only thing filling his spirit. He could see it, touch it as if it was real.
Today would be the day he would claim the Iron Throne.
He would show them all, show to all those lords and ladies of the realm that he was born for it, raised for it, and suited for it. Above all, he was meant for it, body and soul, and nothing could impede his plan now, he was certain, for Alys had seen it, and something inside him knew that she always saw true.
He would rule the Seven Kingdom, and curse those pitiful lords that believed that peace was an option.
He could picture, landing on Aegon’s Hill, like the Conqueror himself, force his way in, put Baela and Rhaena Velaryon in a cell, a long due punishment for instigating the fight where he lost his eye all those years ago, and claim the throne. Then he would lock the city and gather those loyal to him, before flying back to Harrenhal crowned with Valyrian steel and make them bend the knee.
For now, he took his first steps outside since he had been stuck in that cursed tent for days, courtesy of the Rogue Prince for almost cutting him in half.  But now he was strong, not even feeling the wound at his chest any more, only the scared looks he was earning from the people outside finally seeing him free, standing tall and proud at the entrance of his previous prison. He was stronger than ever, and he understood why they all looked down as he passed. They were right to fear him, because he had been the one that ended up cutting the Rogue Prince in half.
He wondered why he had been this blind before, why he had settled for peace once,considered it back when he thought his armies too thin, too famished, and their dragons too few. But it did not matter, now he would claim the throne, surprise all those pitiful High Lords that believed him weak and show them what it is to rule as a true Targaryen.
But for now he would tell no one, for the only master of his destiny was him, and it was near. Lady Rivers had seen far and true, all that would come to pass, all that he will be, all that he desired.
He felt her hand snake around his arm at his side, like a reminder that he had only some steps to take and the realm would be his.“How are you feeling, my Prince?” she asked, her voice honey in his ears, her tone of adoration vibrating to his core.
“Fine,” he stated, looking straight ahead where the melted towers of Harrenhal loomed over the camp, remnants of what happened when lesser lords tried to cross Targaryens. “Let them brew some sort of peace. Soon they will see.”
Then he turned around and went straight to the direction of the form of Vhagar laying near the trees at the other side of the camp, her wings the only thing he could decipher over the tents ahead.
Alys Rivers, the wet nurse he had spared all those moons ago, walked at his side, the first and truest of his devoted followers.
He grunted when Ser Cole made him come to a stop in the muddy path. Vhagar was within reach. His glory.
“My Prince, glad to see you this strong looking,” he announced after a slight bow of his head, coming to rest his hand on the hilt of his sword, but his expression was nothing but relaxed.
“Would you have expected otherwise?” Aemond asked, chin high but the ghost of a mocking smile on his lips.
“Of course not my Prince,” the Knight answered, a flash of pride passing through his eyes at his reply, but he still bore a stern expression. “I came to meet you, I’m afraid I bring ill news.”
Cole glanced at the woman at Aemond’s side, his already dark eyes turning even darker, and Aemond began to lose his patience.
“Speak then,” he snapped.
“Your wife, Lady Lydden, had just collapsed, her condition had worsened it seems. The maesters are tending to her but they are unsure of what plagues her.” Cole finished quickly, as if expecting a surge of irritation from the Prince at any moment.
Only, Aemond did not feel irritation. In fact, he had not even been informed of his wife’s condition beforehand, not aware that there was anything to worsen in the first place. What he felt, however, was a pang somewhere inside of his body, something travelling through his blood, the flow of the warm liquid trying to whisper unshaped words to him.
But the murmurs quieted quickly, replaced by the grip of Alys on his arm, and his senses came back to him.
“Hm…” he let out, looking at Cole unphased before addressing him. “Take care of it, and next time be faster in your information delivery.”
Aemond strode away, passing by the knight to make his way to his mount, where he was truly needed. Meant to.
“Will you not go to see her?”
Cole’s voice was a little too bold to his taste. It was not a way to speak to a Prince, even less to a king. So why did his words sound so true to him? Bitter? He turned slowly, assessing the knight who bore a dismayed look.
“I’m afraid the Prince has other matters to attend, Ser Knight,” spoke Alys, drawing Cole’s gaze to her, and it lingered there for so long that Aemond thought he was debating whether he would let her speak to him that way or arrest her.
Apart from his mother, Aemond had not always been sure if Cole truly regarded women as 'an image of the mother to be spoken with reverence', as he had once put it. His mentor reported his attention back to him. "My Prince?”
Aemond was about to agree with the black-haired woman, but from afar he glimpsed the shape of a man he instantly recognised coming out of a tent displaying the Lydden coat of arms and froze.
Addam of fucking Atranta.
He felt Alys pull on his arm a little, encouraging him to continue their walk to his undeniable glory, but she was a mere force to his will, unable to stop him as blood rushed uncontrollably in his ears, even though something inside of him screamed for him to follow her.
But right now he felt like fighting, fighting him, without really knowing the reason, like a faint memory in his mind coming back to poke him. His steps led him straight to your tent, making Alys lose the grip on his arm in the abruptness of his movement, Cole hot on his heels as he walked toward the Vance Lord.
The latter was conversing with a short priest with a seven pointed star sewn on his robes, and the lord, sensing his approach, reciprocated the dark look Aemond was already bearing, not sparing Alys as he saw her trotting behind him. He could already feel the vile words on his own tongue, ready to be spoken to the boy he barely tolerated, but he was stopped.
“Thank you Ser Criston,” he heard his mother say as she exited the tent with a little smile, happy to see her son. “Lady Rivers,” she curtsies briefly when she saw the wet-nurse, the one who had tended to her son so carefully.
However, Aemond, who had managed to put Addam in the back of his mind, saw no warmth in her eyes. Instead she reached for Aemond’s hand, the one that had not been captured by Alys as soon as she had caught up with him after his striding. “I sent for you as soon as I heard. I am so sorry Aemond, nothing we do seem to work with her, it is this dreadful place…” Alicent continued, squeezing his hand lovingly. “But please come in.”
Aemond froze again. He didn’t know why, but as he slowly came to the realisation that you were behind those drapes, he found himself more unsure than he had been in the last few days, since he had been granted a glimpse of his destiny by the woman who had saved his life.
Why did he fear now?
But he followed his mother inside nonetheless, mouth closed and lips in a thin line, leaving no expression appear on his face. He recognised the maester that had been so useless for him lately standing over the bed, next to Lord Donnel and a maid who were rearranging the vials the maester kept using. When he caught the eyes of Lord Donnel Lydden, your father, he saw him flinch and his expression harden, but he stepped aside like the rest of them when Alicent announced him, letting a husband come closer to the mother of his child.
You were lying under the furs, face evidently in pain as your skin glowed with sweat. Your brows were slightly knitted, and you would move from time to time, wince or breathe sharply. However, your eyes remained closed, unresponsive, far from reach. Something inside of Aemond boiled, but he shut the feeling down. These kinds of reactions were futile right now. Surely they were.
However his fingers reached for your side without his permission, and the familiarity he had not felt since too long came back at your touch, like it had been erased but still remained somewhere, ready to wake. His state of daze and contemplation as he looked down at you was broken by the new light that came through the opening of the drapes of the tent to let pass Addam Vance and the priest, realising that he was watched by the few people around and that Alys had found her place next to him once again, hard features on her face.
He found her much more tense than ever, but it was nothing compared to how tense he found himself to be, particularly seeing a low lord enter his wife’s quarter without shame, as if it was natural for him.
But then Alys squeezed his forearm gently, the one that was touching your skin so tenderly, and images of him on the throne flashed through his mind. He would have to indulge the people around him for now, to put on a good show.
“What is with her?” he asked, tone flat, already thinking of his flight to King’s Landing. 
“Her collapse must stem from an extreme state of fatigue,” the master answered him, solemn expression on his face. “Her slumber is now due to the herbal concoctions I have provided her, but none of them seems to have any effect on her affliction.”
Aemond repressed a scoff. If there was one soul here that was competent in healing people, it was not this old man, but the woman standing next to him.
“Can nothing be done?” he found himself asking, face slightly turned toward Alys so she would know he was directing his question at her as he kept his gaze on your suffering face.
He was sure that, even from his position, he had seen something red flash through her eyes, even though he was not looking at her. But he heard her inhale and came closer to you after a while, taking your hand and examining you briefly.
He did not miss the way Vance had moved forward either at Alys Rivers’s contact with you, as if ready to pounce. Aemond raised his gaze at him to see him bite the inside of his cheek, his gaze fixated on the wet-nurse.
Aemond felt uncertainty come back, like a foreign sensation.
“Nothing,” Lady Rivers declared, putting back your furs higher on your chest. “Her sickness is her own, she must fight through it on her own as well.”
They all looked up at Aemond, expecting to see his face decompose but they saw nothing of the sort, instead they narrowed their eyes in order to better hear what the woman was now whispering in his ear.
“My Prince, we must go now, we had delayed for too long,” she murmured inside of his neck, and he nodded, taking a little too long to withdraw his gaze from you for his taste and turning to leave.
But Alicent, who had been the closest to them, had overheard.
“Go where?” she asked, voice high and eyes searching for his. “Are you leaving? Has something happened?”
All looked at him now, Addam particularly decided not to give Alys any rest, and he almost felt trapped. Almost.
“This is no concern of yours. I will be back in a short time, and we will be all celebrating.”
And like this he was out of the tent, feeling Alys relax at his side, determination in his heart.
“Prince Aemond, a word?”
Aemond gritted his teeth as he was reluctant to turn around, to indulge the boy that dared address him. But he did, finding himself amused at his boldness.
“Certainly,” he voiced as he advanced toward one of the brazero next to the tent.
“Alone,” the lord demanded, eyeing his seer clutched at his arm, and Aemond was almost tempted to make him understand his disrespect by burning him to a crisp by Vhagar, if his own gaze did not have that effect before he would have the chance to.
But he chose to allow him that request, now intrigued at his courage, his irritation quieted by his sentiment of power. If the boy had the wits to stand before him alone, to fight him, Aemond would be the first to draw blood, and glad to. Man to Man.
“Addam Vance of Atranta,” Aemond greeted sarcastically, after leaving a frustrated Alys behind. “Always avoiding battles I see. How’s your brother?”
Aemond knew perfectly well that his brother was still in the hands of the Wayfarers, another branch of the boy’s family, provoking him on purpose with that cruel smile of his.
“Better than your wife, I assume.”
Aemond’s smile instantly disappeared. He had not expected that in the least, and he wondered who of the two of them was angrier at the moment. He could feel the way his fingers itched for his blade.
“Will you not stay beside her?” he continued, not impressed by the way Aemond’s eye shot daggers at him. “Do you not see what is happening?”
“Why do you care?” Aemond asked coldly, shortening the distance between his fingers and the dagger at his belt. “She is not yours.”
“If she is yours, as you so claim, you should be able to see the plague that is inflicted upon her. To understand.”
“Please refrain from speaking like a child with half-formed sentences," he accused, still furious, but the damn doubts of his finding their way to his head again. Why could he not focus? He had to concentrate, his destiny was so near, Alys had promised him.
The young lord dared scoff, glancing at the answer to all of his desires behind Aemond, like she was nothing but a low woman.
“You truly are blind then, if you truly cannot see, or are so lost and deep into the lion’s den that you cannot reach the light any more,” Addam said with disgust, eyes digging into Alys. “I assume that you must have important matters to do with your new acolyte, if you are this eager to abandon the mother of your child to perish. Very worthy of you, Prince.”
Aemond stepped into the Lord’s personal space in a flash, towering over him and holding the steel of his dagger he had drawn with dexterity between their two faces.
“Careful, Vance, or I will have more than your tongue. You have played around with Y/N long enough, and only for her sake have I allowed it. Do not play with me too or I swear you will have what is coming for you.”
Addam had jumped at the sight of the dagger millimetres from his skin, but now that Aemond had threatened him and that they both heard Alys come closer, alarmed by Aemond’s sudden outburst, the lord had nothing but loathing on his expression, not an ounce of fear left. 
"Open your eyes, and maybe you will see, even with one eye. I am not the one playing you,” he said with disdain as Alys came to pull at Aemond’s shoulder, giving Addam the opportunity to free himself from him and take a few steps back. “Maybe it will be for the best if you leave after all, far away from her,” he said, backing away from them.
“You truly don’t deserve her,” he spat at last looking at Aemond dead in the eye before turning away and returning under the tent.
Aemond felt awful, torn between following him and spilling his guts onto the carpet of the tent or giving in to an urge within himself he could not grasp the meaning of, the same one that had been bothering him since he came out of his own tent earlier.
How dared he? And why did he feel like his muscles were not obeying him?
“Aemond, look at me,” he heard next to his shoulder, the voice of Alys drawing his gaze away from the spot Addam had disappeared to and into her eyes. “Leave him be, he is not worth it, he is nothing, only a boy ignorant of what is to come,” she said, words firm and true. “You, on the other hand, is everything, and he will see it. Soon, they will all witness. You know what we must do." 
Aemond looked into her eyes, hoping to find the grounding he was desperate for, maybe see the visions she promised him in those green irises. But as he looked, he could only notice how different her eyes were from yours, colder, unreachable, with a hint of black yours did not possess.
No. He had to concentrate.
“I know,” he finally spoke, voice hoarse as he sheathed his dagger at his belt and found his way to Vhagar again, feeling his anger deflate as Alys walked beside him.
Why was he still so upset?
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No one was around but the few soldiers that Vhagar had grown accustomed to, but they departed as soon as Aemond passed near them, eager to step away.
Being close to his dragon again felt like breathing was easier somehow, like being reunited with a part of himself, gazing into her yellow eyes for the first time since his trial with the Rogue Prince, and when he touched her snout, smelling the flaming air she breathed out, he could feel the power, the glory, his destiny within reach.
But he could also feel the uncertainty, the sadness, echoing within his own blood, for Vhagar and himself were one. He also felt wariness, as well as a strong feeling of loss, one he had previously associated with being apart with his dragon, but the feeling in his blood told him otherwise. He couldn’t decipher what, and he took a moment to truly sense her. 
Could these feelings be his own?
He had almost forgotten about the woman behind him, still several steps away from Vhagar’s long neck as she watched with awe the most beautiful dragon in his eyes, the mightiest of all, his ally. Vhagar had now set her big eyes on Alys, and he felt the emotions from before enhance. He let the green dragon show a single menacing fang to Alys before grabbing her hand and flattening it on the spot below her eye, keeping it there under his palm. Vhagar let out a strangled sound, but put away her fang at last, eyeing her rider who was content to have the wanted effect out of her.
Alys’s eyes were wide with excitement, and Aemond could even see satisfaction in her expression. He observed her for a moment before letting his thoughts fly out of his mouth, the presence of Vhagar giving him somehow more poise with her than he usually had. 
"What did you mean when you said her sickness was her own? What plagues my wife, Alys?”
The woman turned her head toward him, letting her hand placed on the warm scales of Vhagar fall at her side and the creature instantly shifted in order to face them, not liking having them on her weak side, growling.
“I only meant that nothing can be done, even from my hand. Do not let her cloud your path, this is only the order of things, my Prince. You are above it all." She assured, taking both of his hands, as if her words were supposed to make sense.
“You are the most capable healer I have met, the ‘order of things’ does not frighten you. Yet, you assure me that your powers are useless?” Aemond tried again, without really knowing why. He had been told you needed rest, and Alys had done the same. So why did he feel the need to insist?
She looked at him with pity, as if he was a child asking for something impossible. “Nothing, except for nature to do its work, in the same way that you are meant to sit on the Iron Throne and rule, Aemond. You of all people know that sacrifices must be made to reach what others desire.”
Vhagar emitted a low growl beside them, Aemond feeling himself frown at her words, uneasiness flowing through him as something in his mind stirred.
Leave.
“Sacrifices? I have sacrificed enough. My brother, my sister, my blood… I am entitled to the throne, nature has nothing to do with it, only my will and your visions. I will not let it take from me again.”
He was beginning to be very annoyed by the way his mind worked at the moment. All he had to do was mount Vhagar and take King’s Landing for himself, and he would have all that he has ever wanted.
Didn’t he?
“Not all is set in stone, my Prince,” she said, coming to place a hand on his cheek to caress it. “But my visions are true. Do not let your efforts go to waste, our efforts, we must choose our fights and they are not here, where your family tries for peace, but in King’s Landing, where your ancestors claimed the land and ruled it as their own for the first time. Isn’t that what you want?”
Aemond reached for her hand on his cheek, more as a reflex than a need for touch, and Vhagar rumbled again at the same time his throat turned dry. He hated that feeling of doubt, the sense that a fear he was not in control of had taken hold of his body, and the way he could not withdraw his eyes from Alys’ enticing ones, searching for something he could not reach in her words.
You don’t deserve her.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, tone harder, less forgiving. “You know more than you claim to, do you not? Otherwise, you would not have talked of sacrifices when I talked about my wife.”
Aemond saw slight alarm pass into her green eyes at his words, taking a step away from Vhagar in the process before eyeing the beast warily, as if she was seeing it for the first time, surprised. She, however, quickly recovered, putting her hands on his chest gently, but it was too late, Aemond had seen, and he could feel his blood whisper to him again.
I am not the one playing you.
“Aemond, my Prince, you are the heir to the throne, the only one worthy of-”
He caught her wrist placed on his chest and squeezed, just enough so that she would hear him properly this time. Her eyes went dark in a flash, before turning into that panic he had a snippet of earlier, pupils searching his frantically, and Aemond could almost see the gears turning in her head, looking for something.
“You have visions, dreams,” he kept on, the feeling in his guts becoming stronger as minutes passed, leaving a sour taste on his tongue, the comfort he had felt with her in the last few days fading away. “Tell me what you saw, and don’t lie to me.”
You don’t deserve her.
Aemond saw her confidence drop for a fleeting moment, saw how her brows knitted together, as if suddenly realising something.
“My Prince, did you take the medicine I gave you last night?” she asked, and Aemond refrained a scoff, irritation growing inside of him at her reluctance to answer his questions.
“Why would I? I have no need for it any more, traces of what my uncle did to me are gone, I am strong again.”
Now he could clearly see it, how the black-haired woman bit her lips, evidently at unease, and Aemond had never seen her so unsure. He, on the other hand, sensed his doubts falter.
I am not the one playing you .
“This was a mistake. You still need them, even though you have gained your strength back,” she stated, finding her sweet tone again. “Please my Prince, you must drink-”
Vhagar breathed steam behind her as he abruptly took a step closer to her, her sentence dying on her lips as he towered over her, not liking the way she was commanding him. “Answer my question.”
He had talked so low, so close, that he could see her expression still and her jaw clench in frustration, disappointment apparent on her features. But he saw it quickly shift into resolution as he bore his flaming gaze into her own, awaiting her answer. Then she did something he did not expect. 
Helped by his grip on her wrists, she pushed herself on her toes and kissed him, her mouth entrapping his lips as he let her go in shock and bewilderment, feeling her now free hands slide behind his neck to force him down to her. His own mind was blank for a moment, her lips moving against his unmoving ones as he tried to find his senses again, taken aback by the woman who had promised him so much, saw so much, for him. But he took too long, and while he felt her fingers tangle in his hair, desperate for more, he sensed her teeth trapping his bottom lip, and bite. Hard. Like out for blood.
He grunted and instantly recoiled, bringing his fingers to his lips at the stinging pain, wincing as he made sure that he was not bleeding. Alys was not letting him go, eager to reiterate the experience, her breath hot on his skin, and he inhaled sharply, grinding his teeth. One of his hands had levelled with her neck, fingers wrapped around her throat, squeezing, but still gentle.
For now.
You don’t deserve her.
She didn’t gasp as she felt his hold on her, but her gaze was still on his now swollen lips, disappointed to not find them reddened with blood.
“Enjoying yourself, perhaps?" he said, furious. "My patience is running thin Alys, and I don’t like people taking liberties with me,” he seethed, tone cold as ice as he kept his face at a safe distance from hers. “Now tell me what you saw.”
Her eyes closed momentarily, bracing herself, and he was tempted to let her go, but she had crossed a limit with him, and he could feel his blood running wild in his veins, as finally awake. The heat from Vhagar’s form comforting him in his anger, his certainty.
You should be able to see the plague that is inflicted upon her.
“I saw you on the Iron Throne…” she whispered raggedly, and Aemond guessed that his fingers would mark the skin of her throat. “I saw your sword red with the blood of your enemies, I saw your dragon flying over the land like a sigil in the sky."
“I know all that already,” he snarled, taking a step forth. “But at what cost? What are you not telling me, Alys?”
She wetted her lips, and Aemond knew she thought about kissing him again, the glare in her eyes unmistakable. He squeezed harder, drawing her eyes on his once more. Vhagar menacingly stomped a claw of her wings closer to them, and Alys visibly swallowed.
“I am devoted to you Aemond, and I would do anything for you. And I have,” she breathed, hands wrapping around his wrist at her throat, the other travelling to take his free one. “Your path has been cleared, and the ones who love you have made their choices. It is too late now. I am yours, always.”
Aemond felt his grip falter as he processed the words, your illness appearing less and less natural with each of her claims.
Deep into the lion’s den.
“What did you do…” he said in disbelief, his eye widening as she looked at him with renewed confidence, bringing his hand to her chest.
“You know of my powers, my Prince. I removed all of the obstacles on your path to glory. Why do you think Daemon Targaryen wanted you dead at all cost? Because he knew what you were, what you were meant to be, and was afraid. So I ensured his death, and that no harm would come to you, by any means necessary.” She was slowly unclasping his fingers from her throat as she sweetly talked to him. “And I am not afraid to do it again, all for you.”
He could sense Vhagar restlessness beside him, but he only stared at Alys with dread, feeling her heart beating beneath his palm she had placed on her chest. His blood was running wild again.
You truly are blind.
Then he watched as she slowly drew a knife from her skirts, and brought it to his other hand, inches from his skin.
“If you let me, I can do so much for you. Let me perform my craft, and you will have all of your enemies suffer and fall. Do not let your wife’s sacrifice be in vain,” she coaxed, the blade of the knife coming closer to his skin. “Give in to me and be the most powerful man in all Westeros. Create a dynasty that competes with Aegon the Conqueror.” 
Aemond snapped out of his trance as quickly as he was to draw his own dagger, making Alys’ knife fly away from her hand before it could be tainted with any of his blood.
“Heal my wife, and I will forgive what you call ‘necessary’,” he snarled, his blade pressing to her throat. It was an admission, that it was her doing, and it made him burn inside. 
Still, her chin was high, unimpressed. “I told you, it is too late. The board is set.” 
“I don’t believe you.”
They watched each other for a moment, all of the events of the past few days passing between them, how Aemond had put his trust into her hypnotising green eyes, letting them make their way into his soul. How her visions had made him realise his worth, so evident to him at the time, her words music to his ears. But mostly, how he had forgotten his duty, his family, his wife and daughter.
No more.
“If you choose her, you won’t sit on the Iron Throne. If you choose her, you’ll dishonour your brother, your sister, your ancestors. You have put your trust in me this far, and I did not fail you. I won’t stop what I have begun, and you have no desire to do so either, I know,” a smile crept on her lips. “What will happen to your family if you let those Lords decide of your fate in the name of peace? If you don’t fight? You are Aemond Targaryen.”
“I’ll protect them, as I always did,” Aemond responded in coldness, breathing on her temple. “Protected them from those who wish to harm my blood, and from those who intend to wield it as their own. And especially,” he paused, taking a step closer to her, the steel of the blade painfully immobilising her. “From those who underestimate it, and by extension, me.” Aemond saw her swallow, making him smile. “Do you really think I need you?” 
“You do,” she answered, her eyes cold, bored even. “You need my visions, my Prince. You are linked to me.”
Aemond’s smile widened, bringing the point of his dagger closer to her carotid. She didn’t know him, she never had, her confidence was nothing but delusion, that would soon crumble under his foot. Now, in the enormous shade of his most trusted ally, he understood, and saw clearly.
“Unlink us then,” he simply said. “Or would you rather have Vhagar do it?”
The woman’s face finally displayed fear, her eyes widening slightly as she glanced at the dragon behind her, fangs out as if waiting for the signal.
“Make me yours,” she said defiantly after pondering her next lies, pushing the blade against her throat and reaching for his forearms. “Make me yours and you will never need anyone else again."
The quickening of her pulse and faint pleading in her voice made Aemond cruel and satisfied smile reappear, acknowledging her fear and most of all, her deception. “So if you die, so does your magic,” Aemond concluded wickedly, and he saw how hard she tried to hide her surprise at the discovery of her secret, mouth opening as she finally drew her last cards.
“I will give you sons. Targaryens that will rule and keep your power strong.”
Aemond inhaled sharply, tired at her incessant game. “I have no need for a breeding mare, my children will be legitimate and from the woman I have chosen. Now, heal that woman, and I’ll spare you, for your visions might still be useful for me.” 
“She won’t give you children, she is useless to you,” she stated, her lie making him furrow his brow and flare his nostrils. “Make me yours, and she won’t suffer. Make me yours, and I’ll serve you, Aemond.” 
Aemond thought about snapping her neck right here and there, her calculating gaze when talking about you making every muscle of his body tense with violent intent. But as he observed her, something in his blood called him to calmness, to trust his newly retrieved instincts and he found himself relaxing, exhaling as he stepped away from the witch. She seemed surprised at the sudden coldness his departure caused to her body, her neck free of his blade which had almost drawn blood, and she slightly frowned, watching him step away further.
Maybe he had felt tenderness for her, once. Likeness, or something more primal, but as he recalled the last few days he had spent with her, all he could feel now was disgust, guilt, betrayal. What had he done?
“Give me one good reason not to kill you, Alys." His voice was strained, almost sad, his anger gone with what he was about to do. He would grant her one last chance, for everything she had done for him. How she had forced her way in his soul for the briefest of moments. 
The woman before him lost her puzzled expression instantly, realising that she was standing between Aemond Targaryen, on whom she had no hold on to any more, his blood away from reach as her blade laid in the grass, and the mouth of the most ferocious beast alive, ready to breathe fire at his command.
“Aemond, if you lose me, you lose everything," she panted, fingers curling as she tried to move toward him. "You will always feel that emptiness, that missed opportunity. You need me, and no one else. Make me yours and I’ll ensure your wife won't die."
Aemond stared at her from a distance, the grip on his dagger becoming stronger as his mind, now his own again, ran wild. All he wanted now was to retrace his steps, to find you, to smack the boy that had made him realise his mistakes in the face, even. But not King’s Landing, not Alys. Never.
His next words came as a hoarse whisper.
"I don’t believe you.”
Vhagar snarled behind her, and without any command from him necessary, Aemond turned away and let the other part of his soul do what he could not, muting the screams from his mind.
When he reached the tent, minutes later, he felt whole again.
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-0- Part 33
Thank you so much @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan for beta reading
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔
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Summary: Dinner is served. And Aemond has his mind set on torturing you.
Warning: Smut, angst, horniness in general
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, I have decided to post tomorrow a short one as well as an apology for my absence. Enjoy!
Masterlist (Part 15 - Part 17)
Aemond clearly remembers the day he fell in love with you.
At that time he was surprised that he had not realised it sooner. It was long due. But it didn’t prevent him from feeling scared.
It was a rainy day over King’s Landing, you were both teenagers, and unfortunately, so was his brother, already a lazy and sulky drunk, and he was attending the same classes as him, private lessons from the royal maesters.
You were not able to attend those classes, at Aemond’s greatest dismay, so he had to endure those time with an old man and his snoring brother next to him. Aemond did not even bother waking him up any more.
On this day, when the lesson ended, Aemond’s recent talk with his mother about Aegon’s incapacity to take his education seriously rang in his ears, making him stop in his tracks when he was eager to leave and search for you in the castle grounds. Now he was guilt-trapped, his mother would have wanted him to take care of his brother, so Aemond tried to wake him up to make him at least do the assignments the maester had just given them. It was better than nothing.
“Aegon, wake up. You slept during the whole lesson. Mother will be mad.”
Aegon shifted and mumbled something under his breath, his head resting inside his arm, hair dishevelled all around him. Aemond tried to shake his shoulder.
“Aegon you… Get up!”
Aegon’s head rose from the table this time, eyes half-closed, looking weakly at his brother as if he was a vulgar insect.
“Leave me be. You don’t have to be a suck up to mother all of the time. You are worse than father, weak and always following her around. It’s pathetic. If you were able to talk to other women than the ones of our family, you would know.”
And he once again fell into slumber, snoring louder than before.
Despite his young age, Aemond took his brother’s words harshly. He did not care for women, and he was sick of his brother’s late teen desires that reflected poorly on their family’s honour. His brother was an idiot, and so was his father.
Fuming, he fancied hitting his brother for a while, but his thoughts were interrupted by a shuffle sound coming from behind him.
You appeared from behind the shelves, obviously proud to see the surprised look on his face as he watched you come toward him, a finger on your mouth to keep him quiet.
He watched you as you crept towards Aegon on your tiptoes. With expert hands, you rolled a piece of parchment and dipped it in the bottle of ink lying next to the Prince’s arm, and proceeded to spread it on his face, hair and hands, sometimes drawing comical patterns on his skin. Aemond tried to stop you, too afraid of what punishment you would face for such an affront, but you prevented him from doing so with a reassuring smile. You then reopened the parchment, took a quill and drew a badger laughing. You then took his hand dragged him out the room.
“Who is pathetic now?” you gloated at him once outside with a wide smile on your face.
“What were you doing in here?” Aemond asked, still stunned by your presence and a little admirative.
“Well… I have missed you in the garden with Helaena this afternoon and besides, you know that I have always wanted to follow the lessons you and your brother are taking… So I figured it would do no harm if I listened in. Without anyone noticing!” you proudly said. Aemond knew how much you liked instructing yourself, as it was what made you strong against other people at the court. And you had said that you missed him, his heart warming up at the thought.
“Yes but… Why did you do this? To Aegon? And why did you draw this on the parchment?”
“I did not like how he talked to you, a little prank will do him no harm. And as for the drawing, I could not let you take the blame, could I? I’m not afraid of a little punishment,” you said, as you took his hand once more affectionately.
This was then that he realised that he was dearly in love with you, had been for a while. He loved you, you were the girl he thought about when you were away from him, and you were the girl he wanted to be closer with even if you were in the same room. And as years passed, not confessing anything of it to you, puberty hit him hard, and he understood that he did not only want your closeness, but you in your entirety. He would be devoted to you, he wanted to make you happy in every way possible, because you deserved it. But as he grew up and his feelings felt more tangible than before, Aemond grew scared as well, dark thoughts darkening his mind: you did not deserve him, he was not enough.
He was the second son, the little one, but even as he trained harder and harder, focusing on sharpening his skills over the years, he was still convinced that he would never be worth it. He even managed to convince himself that he got over you for a time, ignoring the flutter in his chest each time you smiled, joked, or when he saw the way your eyes filled with pain as you sympathised with what someone had just said to you, compassionate. But he was deluding himself. As you both matured, you became less friendly to each other, more polite, a result of his restrained behaviour around you. But he still couldn't let go, you were in his thoughts, on his skin, in his dreams. Everywhere.
And now everything had changed. Once you were gone for Dragonstone, for months, something in him snapped, and as his anger toward the Blacks grew, so did his determination. And now, he knew that he would not rest before he had you completely to himself, like he had dreamt of.
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You were more than anxious. It wasn’t enough that you had to endure the many judgmental eyes of the castle all day long, but now you were forced to sit among them for a whole entirety of dinner.
You had learned that beside the royal family, the most prominent members of the Greens would be present as well, and when you entered the dinner hall at the requested time, it was clear that you did not have your place here.
Near the great table was were standing Larys Strong, the master of whispers, Tyland Lannister, master of coins and Jasper Wylde, master of laws. However there were several you did not recognise, and you were glad that you did not have to introduce yourself as everyone seemed happy to ignore you. Only Aegon was absent, his injuries rendering him too weak to even move.
The only familiar face you were glad to see was Helaena’s, who greeted you with wide arms and led you to sit next to her, inquiring happily about your health and your time in Dorne with genuine curiosity. You were happy to oblige, answering her questions as you did not have any occasions to speak of your travels of yet, and you felt that this dinner might not be so horrible, if not for the newcomer that placed himself between you and Helaena.
Aemond had come to his sister, first asking her about her afternoon flying with Dreamfyre, visibly content that Helaena had enjoyed herself for a while, far from the concerns Aegon’s affliction was giving her. He then turned fully to you, his eye scanning your form, bowing his head in order to place a kiss on the back of your hand.
“You look dashing in blue, my Lady” he simply stated only for you to hear, making you blush a little as you mumbled a thank you in return.
You didn’t know why you felt that flustered right now, maybe the memory of last night was still fresh in your mind.
You tried to keep as composed as possible when you saw him sit in the chair beside yours, placing himself at his rightful place at the centre of the table, next to his grandfather and keeping you on his good side.
You wondered if the reason for his invitation to such a crowded dinner was a way of displaying you so close to him, for everyone to see, and if it was his way of punishing you, as he had said. At this moment, you certainly did not enjoy the looks the assembly gave you when they saw you seated next to their Prince. But as soon as he sat, everybody did the same, taking place around the table in a racking of chairs, pretending to not pay you any mind.
You tried to make yourself as little as possible while the food was served, not wanting to draw any attention to you as you politely conversed with Helaena, sometimes listening in to the conversations of others. You also made a point in ignoring the man next to you, trying as hard as you could to not notice his every move, every slight change of expression, and every glance he made your way.
The dinner went quite smoothly as you managed to hear more about the affairs of the Kingdom, explaining the absence of some members at this very dinner, as well as the presence of others. You learnt that Criston Cole, the Commander of the Royal Guard, was currently leading part of the army into the Crownlands borders, while the Lords and Ladies you did not recognised were none other than Ormund Hightower, Lord of Oldtown, who was seated between his uncle, Otto, and his wife, a Tarly born. In front of them was placed Lord Redwyne from Arbor, a Bannerman of the Hightowers and close friend to Ormund. Both of them had joined King’s Landing in order to counsel and place their armies in strongholds along the way, strengthening the Green’s grip over the land.
As you listened to Helaena speaking in riddles again during the third course, nodding in agreement, you realised that it was becoming more difficult to ignore Aemond as he was pretending to listen to what was said around the table, sometimes taking part in the conversation. But the sensation of his gaze lingering on you at times clearly indicated that he was not interested in what Lord Ormund had to say in the slightest.
He didn’t even look at you as he spoke, playing with his glass.
“Was my bed to your liking, my Lady? Did you enjoy the cake as well?”
You bit your lips, bracing for what was certainly coming. “I did, thank you, even if that is the only enjoyment I had the pleasure to experience on this dreadful day,” you said, not looking at him either, rather watching Tyland Lannister cut his chicken with great difficulty.
Aemond turned his head, musing over something. “Surely that is not right, I see that the dresses I had sent to you are fulfilling their role. Quite well, actually.”
“Well, I could not exactly come without one, my Prince. I am unsure of the reactions I would have received otherwise,” you said, flattening the folds of that very blue dress you secretly adored.
You didn’t see it directly but Aemond’s eye flashed in amusement and a smirk appeared on his face. The thought of you without a dress at dinner apparently pleased him.
Your unheard conversation was interrupted, however, by Lord Redwyne who required Aemond’s attention, and you resumed eating what was left in your plate, enjoying the warm feeling you felt at the short exchange you just had with Aemond. You didn’t know why, but when he was not looking, you couldn’t help but glance at him, his jaw, his composure, his always scanning eye making his profile justice. It was unfair, how handsome he was, his hair well groomed and his sharp jaw, clenching when he didn’t like what he heard but not letting anything appear to others.
You blinked when you realised that it would not do. You could not allow yourself to get caught gawking at him like that. So you kept your head straight ahead, controlling the blood coursing through your veins.
You were brought out of your reveries by Tyland Lannister’s loud voice, narrating one of the many stories where his brother had made a fool of himself, this particular occurrence taking place during a hunt at Casterly Rock. As he told the tale, however, he quickly changed the course of the subject toward more idle matters that you did not appreciate at all.
“I believe that he had the idea in mind to impress a young lady, thinking that bringing back a legendary animal would do the work,” he spoke, laughing at the memory. “But from my own experience, women are not impressed by such proud acts, they require less grandiose ones as their understanding of what makes us men remains small.” He now harboured the face of one that had infinite knowledge of philosophy. “As I told him, some pearl or a new dress to wear would have been largely sufficient! I know it to be true for I used this myself quite often.”
You saw Alicent tense a little, eyes lowering on her food as she stabbed her chicken a little too strongly with her fork, whilst the other Lords wore an embarrassed smile. Aemond was staring straight at him, a smirk still on his face as if enjoying the foolishness of his master of coin, the latter seemingly happy of his little tirade.
“I am certain that your charms make us women, fall for you as soon as you open your mouth, my Lord. And I have no doubts that it must overcome the fact that you speak of them as if they are not even present, in addition of making us appear like we don’t have any education,” you said, not having any of it. “I shall think of you when I look upon all of the pearls I have been offered, maybe I will finally figure out their use, for I have a small understanding of grandiosity.”
You knew it was bold, but you considered that nothing worse could happen to you, you were already a pariah, one more snide comment to a man that took the other sex for granted would not do you any harm. If anything, it made you feel better.
A chain reaction occurred at the table, everybody looked at you in turns, surprised to hear the sound of your voice, some lords, especially Otto, lingering far more than necessary on you, a dark look in his eye. Helaena was discreetly repressing a laugh as Alicent clearly looked at you with something that resembled a smile. But Aemond bluntly chuckled at your words, not hiding his grin in any way, stopping only when he saw the disapproving look on his grandfather’s feature.
Tyland Lannister had dumbfoundedly looked at you for a while before clearing his throat and resuming ignoring you again. You were certain that he did not grasp the meaning of your words and you thought it for the better. Then you risked a glance at Aemond, only to find him already looking at you with what you recognised as pride, a smirk still displayed on his face. You weakly smiled at him before deciding to make yourself small once again.
Fortunately, it was quickly forgotten as the conversation shifted, thanks to Lord Wydle, toward the subject of some dispute that had recently occurred between members of the Guildhall of the Alchemists. You found interest in the topic until you felt something rest on your thigh, making you drop your focus completely.
You froze as under the table, Aemond’s hand gently laid on your dress, his thumb caressing the fabric. You looked at him, instantly reaching for his hand by reflex, taken aback by the sudden touch.
He was not looking at you, but when he felt your hand on top of his, he instantly trapped it in order to intertwine your fingers between his, joining your hands. He looked at you with a wry smile as you parted your lips to say something, his fingers grazing your palm. But no words came out. Then amidst the flowing conversation around you, he simply resumed paying attention to his guests as if nothing was happening beneath the table. It unnerved you, the way he acted so casually.
You enjoyed the feeling of his touch for a while, not caring if someone would notice as you barely paid attention to what was said around the table, Aemond apparently comfortable in just caressing your skin with his thumb. You felt electricity coursing through your body, welcoming the touch. However you thought it wrong after a while, being that much starved touch would not do you any good. So you forced yourself to let go of his hand and reached for your glass, drinking its red content and feeling its warmth pass through your throat. A small consolation.
Aemond’s hand froze on your thigh as he felt you leave his touch, but did not move. Instead it proceeded in caressing it back and forth, as if he had done it all of his life. It felt so familiar but yet you felt overwhelmed by it.
You had seen his jaw clench when you had withdrawn your hand but he was still paying you no mind, talking to the rest of the table as you gradually felt his hand squeeze your thigh harder and going higher, his fingers making their way between your legs.
“Aemond, what are you doing?” you harshly whispered when the attention was not on him any more, giving you the opportunity to talk to him as discreetly as possible.
“What I wanted to do since I sat next to you, and that you have put this fool in its rightful place. Right now, you have all of my attention Y/N,” he replied, malice in his voice. You breathed sharply as he went higher, now inches from where you shamefully wanted him.
“Is this your way of punishing me? Was this invitation not torture enough?” you asked, trying to move as little as possible as you put your hand on his arm, squeezing in an attempt to still his movements.
He clicked his tongue and leaned towards you, whispering into your ear. “Trust me, if I was punishing you, you would know.”
You felt your whole body tense at his husky tone on your skin, his touch on you not helping soothe your nerves in the slightest. You wanted to stop him, but you felt that if you did you would die. Or something close to it.
You swallowed as he pretended to ignore you once more, while continuing his ministrations on you, now pulling up the blue silk of your dress in order to reach the undergarments, leaving only one layer between your bare skin and his palm.
You gasped when you felt his warmth pass through the fabric and you were amazed at how he appeared as if nothing was occurring between you two at this very moment, his face calm and composed, a faint curve of his lips as only indication.
But his expression changed when his fingers crept into the slightly soaked fabric of your dress between your legs, his jaw clenching and biting his lips at the new feeling, sending blood into his lower parts. You had to lower your head in order to hide your face and flushed cheeks when he pressed further into you, asserting the level of arousal you were already in with his fingers.
Because he could not properly reach the spot he longed to touch due to the remaining layer and your legs squeezing together in tension, he proceeded in tracing large circles on the inside of your thigh, inches from your softness. You knew he was patiently biding his time, waiting for you to snap, part your legs further and grant him access.
And you did when you felt him grip the fabric of your underdress hard, as if he wanted to rip it off, and you brutally sat straight when you felt a finger press against your folds. He only smiled as you tighten your grip on his arm while your sudden movement had earned suspicious looks from the guests who sat the closest to you.
You smiled weakly at them in a reassuring look before pursing your lips together and letting go of Aemond’s arm under the table to not appear suspicious. He waited for you to settle down again before resuming his unfairly satisfying movements between your legs. You cursed under your breath when you felt something in you snap. You did not know how much longer you would remain silent if he continued to shamelessly touch you like that.
And it did not fail. The pace of his ministrations so agonisingly slow on you, you felt something strong starting to build up inside of you and you could not stop the whimper that escaped your lips, drawing all eyes upon you at once. You immediately simulated a cough, feigning to choke on your dessert as you took several sip of your glass for good measure. Aemond’s touch had stilled, an audacious arched brow over his eye even if he knew full well that he was responsible from your abrupt outburst.
“I apologise, my Lords, I think I will retire. I need rest,” you weakly announced, clearing your throat as you bowed to the assembly and bid goodbye to Helaena before departing.
You did not see the look Aemond gave you as you dared escape his presence, watching you disappear though the door. His jaw clenched, drumming his now cold fingers on the table. It was far from over.
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-0- Part 17
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
Text
𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏
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Warnings: possessive behaviour, talk of violence, angst
Summary: The Red Keep is facing a crisis, the royal family is busy taking care of things while Aemond creates havoc again.
A/N: It has been a little slow lately but I promise the tea is coming. Masterlist (Part 10 - Part 12)
It was bad, you heard. Over the night half of the Green fleet had been sunk by the Blacks on the Black Water Bay. Now the remaining navy was returning to King's Landing and a strategic meeting was to take place this afternoon.
Your father attended while you were tasked to accompany Helaena and the children to the Great Hall where an announcement of the King was to be held afterwards, a gesture meant to reassure the court's minds.
Aegon seemed to have fully recovered from his previous wounds, his speech was brief and firm, speaking of retaliation over the Blacks' attempts at pushing into the Bay. He next resumed ignoring his wife and children as was his habit, asking for a cup to the nearest servant he could find while the other lords spread all over the great hall and the annexe to converse about the recent events.
You managed to make your way across the crowd, following Helaena who was stopping each time a lord showed interest in the new heir, greeting him and his mother with respect, while you held his sister Jaehaera in your arms slightly behind, followed closely by the midwives who were keeping a close eye on the twins.
"You are really good with children."
Addam was smiling at you, looking at the girl who was now playing with your necklace.
"Quite the opposite, this is the twins that are really good with me," you smiled in return, taking Jaehaera's hand to shake it in a tender manner. "They are a delight when they want."
"And the other times?" he asked, playfully.
"The other times apparently occur when I am absent. Maybe there is something to conclude in this as I always find them happy in my presence," you bragged.
You have not seen him since the day before, when he had left you in the gardens after your talk. However, your father had not spoken a word to you of the entire day, therefore you were still in the dark regarding what had been agreed between them. You were about to ask but Jaehaera cooed and drew both your attention back to her, letting the question pending.
"We are to depart soon." Addam stated firmly. "My House was assigned to hold the harbour if Duskendale as long as possible and protect the population there. I am to lead half of my father's forces once we make land."
"Oh I see... Do you know when you will be returning?" you asked, a little disappointed at the news.
Addam sighed knowingly. "Unfortunately, I fear that we might hold our position there for a while. The ships we lost tonight are restraining our movements and it now takes longer to move our troops."
Helaena called your name at that moment, so you were forced to excuse yourself to Addam.
"It is quite alright. In fact, I should go to the aid of my father who is now discussing with yours about the proposal I made him yesterday, after our talk," he smiled, a happy glow in his eyes. "I believe he intends to further convince your father of the fine match you and I would make."
You couldn't help but smile in surprise as you precisely noticed your father standing in a circle with both Denys Vance and little Hugo, the Lord speaking with your father in a passionate manner. You wished you could go to them but your duties to Helaena didn't leave you time to linger as you bowed to Addam in haste and made your way to her, hoping that your father would make the right decision for you.
Over the night you had realised that Addam's proposition would not please your Lord father, considering that House Vance of Atranta was not fighting for the side he secretly supported. However, his desire to avoid drawing attention to him might force him to make drastic choices about your betrothal, even marrying you to a Green. You will see soon enough.
Wine was served to the assembly as ladies and lords were conversing here and there, sometimes about the close victory over the cursed Queen and sometimes of the glory of King Aegon. You and Helaena made your way across the hall, often stopping to greet some ladies you more or less appreciated, and finally heading towards the open courtyard where most of the crowd had spread in order to enjoy the cool air, the twins following close by with the help of the midwives.
As you were taking in the outside atmosphere of the afternoon, you suddenly sensed Helaena stop in her tracks and harden her grip on your intertwined arm, her face becoming anxious. You knew that look, it was the one she harboured when she was... sensing things you couldn't, things nobody around her understood.
She didn't let go as you inquired about her well-being, answering you only with silence, eyes looking straight ahead of her. When you decided to follow her gaze, your heart skipped a beat.
In one corner of the courtyard was standing Addam, back turned toward you as he talked to none other than Aemond. The Prince was standing not far from Otto Hightower, and was visibly more interested in staring daggers at Addam than taking part or even listening to the conversation his grandfather and Denys Vance were holding.
You couldn't hear any words exchanged between them due to your far position, and Helaena's stiff body was preventing you from moving. You heard her whisper something in an agitated manner but you didn't have the chance to ask her to repeat as you couldn't detach your gaze from the two men, definitely feeling uneasy.
Aemond was now harbouring his cruel smile you knew so well, and you feared for the worst. You saw Addam rest his hand anxiously on the hilt of his sword hanging at his belt as Aemond smiled wickedly, obviously enjoying Addam's reaction to words you could not hear. You swallowed as you took a step forward, ignoring your friend's panicked look as you focused and managed to hear Aemond's words from afar.
"... I am only sharing my concern for your well-being my Lord, as you have taken part in only one battle before. It would be unfortunate if you were to fall, many ladies, I'm sure, would be very upset."
Aemond's voice was calm as he watched Addam's anger beginning to surface, unphased by whatever was happening around them.
"It is kind of you my Prince but do not worry, I trust my men and they trust me. What little experience I might have, it will not prevent me from leading our armies to victory, as my father finds me fully capable."
"Oh I do not doubt your father finds you capable of ordering your men to go to their death while you are hidden comfortably behind two rows of archers. It does not require much swordsmanship after all, as I am sure you lack of it."
Addam's ears were becoming alarmingly red, you saw his grip tighten around his sword at the clear insult.
"At least I am with my men, not miles above them, arriving and departing as I please like one would come to a party. Maybe my Prince should sell his armour, as he has so little need of it."
Aemond nostrils flared and his smile disappeared at once, replaced by a dangerous glare in his eye. His hand shot to his dagger to draw it expertly, startling both you and Helaena, apparently the sole witnesses of the scene.
"If my Lord doubts of my courage and ability, I would be glad to demonstrate my skills, right here and now, if you only dared to take on the challenge," he had talked louder, in threatening defiance.
You sensed Helaena pull your sleeve slightly as you took a step closer to them. Addam had straightened and you feared he would take the bait, knowing full well that Aemond did not lie about his ability, and you did not have the slightest idea of how Addam would fare in a one-on-one combat.
"That is enough!" Otto Hightower said as he was finally made aware of the conversation going on between the two young men, half of the eyes of the courtyard were now on them. "I will not have rivalry between allies at times such as this! Stand down, Aemond."
But the Prince continued to stare at Addam while the latter slowly let go of his sword, his own father urging him to calm down.
He finally excused himself to his father and the Hand before turning around and taking his leave, visibly still upset but willing to put distance between Aemond and himself.
He passed near you on his way out, stopped in his steps to promise you to visit before his departure to Duskendale, kissed the back of your hand and left. It was there that Aemond noticed you for the first time, realising that you had witnessed the whole scene and that the boy he just confronted had dared to talk to you, even touch you.
His look became much more murderous than before, now hesitating between chasing Addam and kill him right now or make him beg for mercy in front of everyone, not having a care in the world for the consequences.
However you only served him an indignant look before taking Helaena by the elbow and leading her back inside, wanting to escape the multiple stares the crowd was now giving you.
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Shortly after, Helaena has been asked away by Alicent, and so you were left alone, wandering the hall in search of faces you knew. You found your father, who was much more agitated than usual to your taste, and you wondered if it was the coming of the Blacks that made him this tense. You didn't have the chance to ask him anything as he quickly ordered you to attend your afternoon studies in the library, making you leave the great hall. You refused for a while, asking about House Vance's proposal, not wanting to leave until you knew more about the life decision your father was making in your stead.
Not wishing to make a scene, he led you to a quiet corner of the room, and announced you that he had no intention of marrying you to Addam, as he had already made commitments to House Qorgyle, the Scorpions' House remaining the most secure choice of betrothal, and for you.
You weren't able to say anything else as it dawned on you that you might be doomed to suffer the harsh weather of the desert for the rest of your life. At least with Addam, you would've had the chance to stay here, in King's Landing, near your father as long as the war kept on, but your father's desire to put you away from harm was undeniably greater than his own discretion. You could not fight it, not in your current situation.
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Your mind was blank as you entered the library to pick a book or two, settling on a table to pretend to study as your breathing was becoming more and more unstable. You were glad no one had chosen to enjoy the quiet atmosphere of the library, leaving you alone in your thoughts and distress, the others certainly too busy worrying about the ongoing conflict beyond the castle walls.
You felt stupid, how could you have believed that marrying Addam would be a possibility? Your father was a man of his word, and if he had decided to marry you to House Qorgyle behind your back, it was for a reason. Because you would have refused. The only way you could escape this now would constitute a drastic idea, either running away or to lose your honour in some other manner, both ideas being the last thing you wanted.
But what had happened to you? Barely a month ago, you were a girl who wished to return to her House, to the Westlands, your true home, taking your family with you in order to distance yourself from the war and the inevitable bloodshed. But all you had managed to do was to be brought back by Aemond of all people and put right in the middle of the most wanted place in all of the Seven Kingdoms, the ultimate prize, the Iron Throne. 
And now, you didn't want to leave. What changed so much that you desired to stay in that place and wish that your father was not so loyal?
You sighed and took your head in your hands. You knew why and you didn't want to admit it, now that the prospect of staying close to him diminished as more time passed. Aemond was the reason. He was the object of your daily and nightly thoughts, the reason you hated this place and the reason you loved it, he was why you wanted to run away, even if it was to someone you didn't know, and why you wished your father was Green and immoral, like most of the Lannisters' bannermen, just so you would not have to choose.
You heard the door open and close, and when you turned to see who entered the quiet place you stood to your feet at once, Aemond advancing toward you.
"How did you find me?" you asked, unable to hide your surprise.
"This was once one of your favourite places growing up," he simply said, his lips curving at the memory. "Mine too. It was the only place I could watch you without being scolded."
You felt your cheeks warming up and you grew too anxious to talk.
"Aegon and I are departing in an hour with the rest, we are to prevent any ships from advancing too far into the bay," he said following your silence but not leaving his eye from your form. He was stalling.
"I see. Take care not to take allies for enemies then, you seem to have difficulty telling them apart these days." You really shouldn't taunt him, but you could not help yourself, your restless state of these last few days taking a toll on you.
But his face remained unreadable. "I am sorry you saw this, it was certainly not for your eyes to witness," you snorted.
"And to whose eyes then? The whole court’s? If your aim was to humiliate innocent men under your roof you are quite succeeding, me being a witness or not."
You didn't know why you were so angry with him, but you didn't like his previous behaviour, and you were tired. So tired.
"This boy is nothing but a low Lord who sees himself as the next hero of war, who pretends to have seen battle while he did nothing but send his men to their deaths," he said loudly, and you realised that he was making great efforts not to let his anger burst out. "He is a boy who takes pride in reaping the accomplishments of others."
"How so? Did he steal something from you, accomplishments? Vhagar perhaps?" your voice was humourless. "Now that I think about it, I can see her bowing to a boy like him as she did with you."
Aemond narrowed his eye.
"Do not, mock me," he said warned. "He thinks he has the right to claim what's not his. However it seems that you have the final choice. So what will it be? Qorgyle? Or Vance of fucking Atranta?" he said, letting his furious tone out.
"How do you-?"
"It does not matter how I know. You do not get to defend him whilst he tries to steal what is already taken."
"So this is what I am? A fruit to be reaped by the first who lay hands on me?" you said, not expecting this turn of conversation and attempting to remain unemotional.
"You are mine. I told you as such. No lords of other Houses have a claim on you and you should understand that, as your father did."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I am the only reason your family was not hanged the day my father died, you and yours might do well to remember that!"
You gasped silently at his words, feeling tears forming into your eyes.
"Do you hear yourself? What gives you the right to say such things? My father only wishes for me to be safe and sound when you, on the other hand, only acts as if everything was own to you! I cannot do this any longer!"
"Because your solution is to run to the arms of this boy for protection? Or another nameless lord who doesn't deserve you?" he had closed the gap separating you and you were stuck between him and the table. He inhaled sharply as you said nothing, too taken aback by his words. "On second thought, you did good in securing two choices of marriage, as for when I murder the first one, you will already have a second to comfort you before I take him from you as well!"
You were shocked. You knew deep down that he didn't mean it but it frightened you nonetheless. Or were you afraid because you believe him capable of such actions after all?
"You are mad Aemond! Why do you say such things to me? You of all people should understand my situation! I am to be married, as you are too, we cannot stop this, this is not up to us, not any more."
"It could be! It could be if you married me," he finished in a whisper.
You looked at him, dazed. It sounded so sweet to your ears, but at the same time it made your heart ache."Aemond this is too late, you know it is." You let your words sink in as he looked at your neck, barely containing his previous fury. "You broke my heart."
You had talked only in a breath, voice breaking. You weren't even sure that Aemond had heard your admission until you saw him stare at you with a look on his face that you did not recognise, a mix of stupor and guilt. You didn't want to witness this.
"I think you should go," you said in a breath.
Your voice was weak, and you lacked the force to even cry, although you wanted to. He raised his hand to you, touching your cheek as to prevent tears from falling, but you refused to lean into his touch. Outside loud voices were heard, people were preparing to leave for war, it was time. You didn't want to. You regretted what you had just said already. You were so very tired.
Aemond blinked, as if exiting a trance state. He tilted his head to the side, as made aware of the voices outside at last. You saw his pained expression being replaced by determination as he looked back at you.
"We'll see."
And with that he turned away and left, his warmth leaving your cheek, and when the door closed tears finally fell
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-0- Part 12
A/N (Addendum): You are in luck, I was in a writing mood and let me say that you are not ready. Jealous Aemond stans: hold on to your seats. Fluff stans: I do not forget you.
@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget @jeyramarie @ephemeralninon @mrswhitethornbelikov @dudfahsn @missusnora @queenofterrasen418 @honeytrapsblogp-graham @heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88 @ivartheblessed @xceafh @bubbletae7 @omgkatherine97 @tzipora-art @signyvenetia @ml0103 @nsainmoonchild @lonadane @skythighs @bietchz @samnblack @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @projectcampbell @ripdragonbeans
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
Text
𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟒
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Summary: Council is in session.
Warnings: angst, fluff. Masterlist (Part 33 - Epilogue)
A/N: I mingled with the canon age of some characters, especially the younger ones. For scenario purposes. Hope you understand/don’t mind.
The sooted and melted black walls of Harrenhal were suffocating as you entered the Great Hall where the peace council will be held. Many lords and most important nobles or the realm were already there, seated or walking around, talking in hushed tones as you looked around for anyone familiar, Aemond close behind you. 
The first thing you noticed was Addam’s absence. Your friend had come to visit you after your awakening the day before to announce his departure. His demand, with the support of your father, had been granted by the Blacks regarding the restitution of his brother, and Addam was to be instituted Lord of Atranta in lieu of his late father, the Wayfarers ordered to leave the stronghold vacant as an act of good faith for the upcoming peace treaty. You have been glad to see him but the conversation has been shortened by Aemond’s immediate request to talk to him in private, away from your ears.
Upon their return, you noticed that you had never seen them so calm, an odd occurrence for them as they often did not see eye to eye when in each other's presence. Only a slight tension could be felt when Addam kissed your hand goodbye. When you tentatively asked your husband what they had talked about, he only dismissed you and proceeded to take you in his arms, a gesture he seemed to do more often than before. So you did not insist, thinking that it was maybe for the best, as much had happened during your involuntary absence. 
The second thing you immediately noticed as you entered the hall beside Aemond, was the whispers his presence elicited. Most of the lords present were not aware of your husband’s recovery, and had not expected him to be present for this council, both scared of what he might say and of him. Most of them considered the Kinslayer unworthy to have a voice in the upcoming parlays, and the dark looks they sent him were very well returned by the man in question as all lowered their gaze when he stared back.
You knew Aemond was only here to protect his family’s interests, very well aware that nothing he would say would please his great cousin or his mother as it would jeopardise the peace, but it did not prevent him from thinking that this whole debacle was some enormous sham.
“I’ll be right behind you,” you whispered to him as you spotted the withdrawn benches meant for the audience to witness the session against the wall, where your place would be, behind your husband and father. Aemond did not let go of your hand. 
"You shouldn't even be here," he whispered back, making you stop in your tracks so he could look at you. “You should be resting.” 
“You should as well. And I would never miss this. Not when there is so much at stake.” 
"Mh,” he voiced, glancing around the room with a dark eye, his shoulders tensed from his repressed loathing of the people seated across the room.
The Blacks were for the most part, already seated at one side of the stone table. Rhaenys was looking regal next to her husband, Corlys Velaryon, himself seated next to Cregan Stark who was talking to a black-haired woman you knew to be named Alysanne Blackwood, known as “Black Aly”.
You recognised a few others, namely Lord Tully, Manderly, and a few Rivermen lords whose name you did not know, next to envoys from Jeyne Arryn, Royce, Tarly and a few other sent to attend in stead of their liege. Behind them you recognised Ser Lorent, standing tall in his armour, and you wondered what your mother would have said, seeing her cousin still loyaly defending the honour of the Black.
But it was the man he was standing so close to that drew your eyes, for Jacaerys Velaryon, macabre looking due to his only recent release a week ago, as part of the prior terms for the treaty, was seated next to his grandmother, hard gaze looking around. Your father had been keen to release him as early as possible, assuring that it would show their dedication in ensuring peace at all cost to the Blacks. You knew Alicent had vaguely protested, but the rest of the Green lords had agreed to it, eager to not see their armies reduced to dust before peace could even be addressed.
You stared at him, hoping that he would look back and see the faint smile you were giving him, for he had been your friend once, and even though you had been on opposite sides, you still held him in your heart, as Lucerys was. Joffrey was not present, but you wish you had been able to see him as well, memories of your time in King’s Landing and Dragonstone with them not easily forgotten.
But he did not meet your eyes as you felt Aemond follow your gaze next to you and still. He was then quick to press his hand to the small of your back to push you forward, dark jealousy emanating from him even though you were completely and utterly his. 
From your seat behind the row of Greens were Lords that included your father, Jason Lannister, Adrian Tarbeck, Ormund, some Greyjoy and Redwyne envoy, as well as Alicent flanked by Ser Cole, mirroring the stance of Ser Lorrent at the other side of the table, and you realised how high the tension was. You were doomed to stare at the nape of your husband, seated next to his mother with threatening calm, while the maester that had been chosen to state the terms of the treaty officially began the session.
For the most part, it was boring, the terms agreed upon preliminary to the sessions stated one after the other, mostly regarding the restitution of lands or castles to some of the defeated party, and reparation for the damage caused. You sat through it in silence, witnessing the occasional interjection from Corlys or Jason Lannister. But it all went rather smoothly despite the palpable tension until the topic of the ruling of the Seven Kingdoms came.
“...and as agreed with prior debate, both sides have recognised Jacaerys Velaryon, son of Rhaenyra Targryen and Laenor Velaryon, as heir to the Iron Throne and King of the Seven Kingdoms…”
You saw Alicent scratch the skin of her fingers in frustration and Aemond's neck tense, although his hand was still leisurely drumming the stone of the table. Some Green partisans next to you whispered in indignation.
“May I ask what becomes of Daemon and Rhaenyra’s spawns? Aegon and Viserys Targaryen ?” asked one of the Greyjoys, earning a few nods of approval from some Greens who would consider the two more legitimate to the throne than Jacaerys, the name “Strong” resonating within the walls of Harrenhal with strength.
“They are away and well cared for. They shall inherit Dragonstone as soon as they become of age, and assist their family in royal matters,” answered Lord Tully calmly.
“Dragonstone should be given to Viserys’ direct descendants, Targaryens with dragons, not dragonless children,” spoke Jason Lannister, earning a dark look from both Lord Ormund and your father at his side.
“I’m afraid that will not be possible, my Lord,” replied Corlys with icy calmness, although his tone indicated that your side was in no position to make any demands.
The mention of Aemond and Daeron’s inheritance had turned some curious heads towards the former. Still, your husband said nothing, the ghost of a dangerous smile dancing on his lips as the tension heightened around the hall.
“I understand how precarious the predicament is, and for that peace to endure, we must make concessions, in order to avoid future bloodshed, to not reproduce the mistakes that had been made,” Cregan Stark strongly stated, silencing the whispers around him and making Alicent inhale sharply. “The bond among the House of the Dragon must be reforged, and thus alliances shall be made.”
Rhaenys nodded before speaking in her turn. “I have two granddaughters. One is already married and meant to be Queen, however, Rhaena Targaryen shall be a great match for one of the Dowager Queen’s sons.”
It was Ormud who spoke first.
“I can envision Daeron Targaryen’s betrothal to Rhaena Targaryen, and for this, we are grateful. However, we have come with another proposition that we could agree on.”
All looked at him with interest as he glanced at your father and Alicent, but the latter had her gaze lowered on the table, eyes in the void. Ormund cleared his throat as Aemond finally turned his head toward his great-cousin.
“I suggest that Jacaerys Velaryon’s first born shall marry one of Aegon’s twins, Jaeaherys or Jaehaera. This way, the bonds of the two families shall forever be intertwined.”
There was a short silence, then whispers filled the room again as a frowning Lord Manderly addressed Ormund.
“We were not aware that the usurper’s children lived. They have been lost and unheard of since the sack of the capital. Why have you not come with this information in the preliminary council?”
“I assure you my Lords that the information had been retained only with the better of intents, for we did not wish to jeopardise the peace in any way, bringing forward facts that you would consider as a threat before the appropriate time,” your father replied, the way he spoke with dexterity making every Black settle down. 
“Ha!” laughed an angry-looking Riverman, looking between your father and Aemond. “I see that Hightowers and their tricks never end. The twins live much older than the unborn heir they are to marry, and already their claim to the Throne seems assured. I have almost expected the Kinslayer to marry his daughter off instead. Very convenient indeed.” 
“Settle down my Lord, or I will have you removed from the session,” demanded Rhaenys, whose eyes had not left Ormund. “This is an alluring proposition, one I see nothing against. It shall be discussed further among us.”
She glanced at her husband who only gave her a look of approval, as did Cregan, who had always been the first to throw agreements that could prevent Targaryens to put the realm to the torch, and could only express his blessing. All from the side of the Green relaxed, with a few exceptions.
Then ensued several betrothal propositions, among which, Joffrey Velaryon, who had hereby been stated as the next heir to Driftmark by his grandfather, would be married to one of Lannister’s four daughters, the Lord most happy to finally marry his blood into royalty.
“Our only demand is for the twins to reside at King’s Landing, over our supervision, until we know of the gender of the heir. After which the other shall be sent as a stewart to one of the great houses,” Corlys’ demand was most vehemently opposed by Alicent, but after a few points made at each other, it was agreed that the other twin shall be sent to Oldtown, where their family resided.
“This is not enough,” spoke the angry looking Riverman again. “One child shall not repair all of the damage that had been done by the fires of dragon riders during the conflict. The Riverlands were torched, hundreds died. What stops them from reiterating their actions with only one child in King’s Landing under the Crown’s care?”
Several lords nodded with force, and you felt your heart quicken in your chest.
“He is right. The two princes are a liability, and their crimes are great,” added the envoy from the Eyrie. “They ride dragons, one of them being the largest alive, the other as big as Syrax. We cannot let this be tolerated if peace is to be enforced.”
Aemond hadn’t moved, but you could feel his eye digging into the skull of the envoy. All the room seemed to grow uneasy at the same time, the burning subject of what should be done with the Kinslayer finally put forward.
“Nothing of the sort will happen,” assured Ormund, aware of the many scolding eyes directed at him. “What happened in the Riverlands had already been assessed, and reparation shall be applied. It was war, my Lords, and war causes awful acts. In that, we are all guilty around this table, as I am sure you will concede.”
“It still does not suffice,” replied the lord at once, scathing. “Unless he is put in a cell or executed, we cannot predict what the Kinslayer might do. He is known for his rash actions, had put ablaze the Riverlands and yet he sits at this table.”
Silence followed, as all held their breath for Ormund to speak, or something to happen. The atmosphere shifted inexplicably as silence lingered, and it was when you glanced at your husband that you understood why. Aemond had stopped drumming on the table, instead straightening up in his chair, as if ready to stand up.
When he spoke, his tone was sharp, taunting. “Very well observed, I am here, aren’t I? Listening quietly to your pitiful attempts to avoid the realm to tear itself apart, bargaining my family and taking titles. Still, I did not argue, so I advise that you hold your tongue before suggesting my demise or interpret my intentions. I would not want my rash actions to emerge.” 
His words had an instant effect, some lords turning slightly pale and others seething in their seats, not comfortable with the idea that none could stop Aemond Targaryen and Vhagar if they wanted to, his current collected demeanour held by a thread that this Lord kept tugging at.
“That is most right, you had said nothing,” the Lord pointed out, unphased. “We have not seen you take part in this council nor do you seem to believe that your crimes shall go unpunished.”
“Let us not be sidetracked here,” chimed in Ormund before Alicent could. “There is nothing from our part that would endanger the very essence of what this council is trying to accomplish.”
But Aemond was smirking.
“You speak of my crimes, but I don’t see you taking any actions regarding the murder of my brother and grandfather in cold blood,” he said, anger nagging at the surface.
“The assassins were employed by Daemon Targaryen and him alone,” interjected Corlys with a dark eye directed to the envoy of the Eyrie, urging him to calm. “And he had already paid the price for this choice, as you well know.”
“That might be the case, but the Qorgyles didn’t,” retorted Aemond, his resentment towards Sandstone still burning strong. “We all here know the truth about their involvement.”
“The Qorgyles are a Dornish house, thus falling under the jurisdiction of the Martells, who had chosen to remain neutral throughout the conflict, and wish to remain so. No measure shall be taken in their stead, they will deal with their bannermen on their own terms. This is not our place.”
Aemond had lost his smile, replaced by a clenched jaw and a cold rage he was struggling to maintain. “Then I suggest that they be quick about it, otherwise I might fly there and render justice myself,” he threatened, but proceeded to only stare at the opposite side as faint gasps travelled the room at his words.
“Here! This is what I am talking about,” exclaimed the Riverman before turning to address the entirety of the room. “Tell me, my Lords, what prevents him, a hot-blooded Kinslayer by none but two occurrences, from riding the most dangerous dragon in existence and 'render justice himself' as soon as this council is over?”
As words of approval erupted around the room, Alicent had opened her mouth to retort, mirrored by Rhaenys who intended to reiterate her threat to have him removed from the hall. But a powerful roar echoed from the outside and everybody stiffened, listening to the sound reverberating through the walls. Aemond had found his seething demeanour again, no longer leaned in his chair but instead ready to stand up, his dark eye solely directed at the Lord who had spoken. When the roar died in the air, a cruel smile had appeared on his lips. 
“Frankly, my Lord, nothing.”
Gasps and horrified comments erupted around the room, the menacing tone with which Aemond had spoken making Alicent feel the need to put a soothing hand on her son’s forearm. But your husband only laughed and looked around the chaos as if it was the most amusing thing he could witness.
“This is outrageous!” came the voice of a noble from the Blacks side as well as several others that shouted similar statements.
“He has a daughter, does he not?” exclaimed one of them. “It might be a fair bargain to have her in King’s Landing, with the royal family. Put her in fosterage, make her a companion, have her under the Crown’s watch.” 
Aemond instantly stiffened while you fought the urge to stand up as well.
“Leave my daughter out of your machinations,” snarled Aemond, clearly fuming as panic overtook you. “She will be the servant of no one, and certainly not for my nephews and their offspring.”
“Perhaps you would have her marry the next heir instead?" retorted one of them in laughing disbelief. "Was that your plan all along, to put your lineage on the throne?”
“That is enough,” came your father’s strong voice, making most of the head turn to him and preventing Aemond heaving in fury next to him to reply. “My granddaughter shall take no part in the negotiation as she had already suffered at the hands of the Rogue Prince. I do not take you, my Lords, accountable for it, for I am aware that it was his actions and his alone. In return, I only ask of you to settle to the terms we agreed upon,”  he said, glancing at Aemond who was ready to cut the next one who would speak of his blood, hand at his belt.
You almost expected for the lords or your husband to resume the fight, their feud far from completed, but a frustrated sigh travelled the room and Cregan took on speaking. 
“We do have to assess the fate of the late King’s progeny, my Lords, as well as his widow’s, as I am sure you realise,” he said, taking care in ignoring Aemond and looking between Lannister and Ormund. “Due to the outcome of this conflict, we cannot let the Higtowers and two dragon riders anywhere near the Crownlands. We must act accordingly.” 
Jason Lannister as well as his bannermen and your father nodded in defeat, while Alicent and Ormund fell into silence. But as talks of exile, being sent to the wall, army requisition or even imprisonment was discussed, you only half-listened as you found your gaze transfixed on the silver-haired man a few feet away from you.
You knew Aemond to be resilient, never yielding, and you wondered what his current cool demeanour meant for you. He had assured you that he would rather live than die fighting, but you had never envisioned what it meant for his legacy, for your daughter. It felt like nothing would ever be enough, not for her.
“Is that is to be the case,” replied Rhaenys to the argument you had not followed. “If this council only settles to confine the Hightowers within the borders of the Reach, alienating the previous terms of the negotiation, then we must make another demand.”
Lannister, who bore a sinister expression, addressed her. “And what do you propose, Princess?”
“For one of you my Lords, to be granted a place at the council.”
Lannister made a faint strangled sound. “I believe that my brother’s place in the small council as master of coins is still assured? Or has it changed?”
“No it hasn’t, my Lords, however, Lord Lydden would be a fine addition to the King’s council, wouldn’t you agree?” 
You straightened up in your chair at once, noticing how Aemond had done the same and was now glancing at your father who cleared his throat before talking.
“I am flattered, Princess, but my duties and the health of my wife concerns me greatly. I am afraid that I will have to-”
“Your family are most welcome in the Red Keep, my Lord, as will you. Your wife shall have the best care there is. I see no issue on the matter here,” Rhaenys stated, and when she made the most fleeting glance at Aemond, you, as all those on your side, understood.
The presence of your father at King’s Landing was the only solution they had come up with to keep Aemond Targaryen from acting against them if he ever wanted to. Vhagar was untouchable, as were you and his family, and having any Hightowers in the capital would not benefit them in any way. So instead, they would have Daeron and your father at court, hoping that would be enough.
As you glanced at Aemond, you could see how his shoulders moved with each breath he took, but still said nothing as your father stared back at Rhaenys before nodding in defeat. “Very well, Princess. I thank you for your proposition.”
You thought about your brother, who was once again abandoned as Lord of Deep Den, and about Daeron, once again separated from his family for the sake of peace, mostly a way for the Black to have both Vhagar and Tessarion apart.
The session dragged on for an hour more without any skirmishes and when it ended, you directly came to your father.
“Do not worry for me. All will be well,” he assured as he took you in an embrace while you felt Aemond approach at a respectful distance. “What matters is that your mother, brother and you are left in peace, as well as our House.”
“Still, I cannot help the feeling that all of it is my fault,” you replied, glancing up at him from your position against his chest. “I am sorry.” 
“Oh but you are wrong, Y/N.” he said before bringing his mouth to your ear so that no one would hear you. “All is as it should be, the true heir sits on the Iron Throne and the fighting has stopped. I, for my part, cannot help the feeling that my role with the Greens has accelerated this outcome, and all thanks to you, my darling.”
You smiled at him, realising that when your father had abandoned his allegiance to the Blacks for your sake once, he had not forsaken his honour, and his duty towards the realm.
He would be a fine addition to the council indeed.
When he departed, passing next to Jacaerys with whom he had a rapid word with, you felt Aemond’s hand snake up around your waist to drag you out of the hall.
“Your father finally gained what he wanted, it seems,” he stated as you reached a less crowded area within the castle.
“You know it to be untrue. He only did what he had to, for the continuation of what he has worked so hard for to endure,” you replied, glancing at some Blacks who were eyeing Aemond with indignation. But he had no care for it.
“Mh. I guess I should be grateful. He was much more efficient in defending my own daughter than I was,” he said bitterly, and you glanced back at him, eyes widening slightly.
“She won’t be taken away from us, will she, Aemond?” you asked, searching for reassurance.
“Of course not,” he replied, taking hold of you so he could kiss your forehead, and you melted into his touch. “I won’t have you, her or my mother out of my sight anymore, they cannot reach you while I am here.”
You closed your eyes, enjoying the warm feeling his words were giving you, his strength radiating through your very being.
You slightly parted from him. “What happens now?”
Aemond only smiled at you.
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-0- Epilogue
I am forever grateful to @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan for beta reading (even though I apparently manage to be alright this time)
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myfandomprompts · 1 year
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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟑
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Summary: Nothing burns better than dragonfire, and nothing last better than love.
Warnings: angst, fluff. Masterlist (Part 32 - Part 34)
When you came to, it was to the sound of tweeting and faint shouting from outside. You blinked, eager to see but your vision was blurry, and you could only rely on your hearing and touch to tell you that you were in your bed, in your tent. Again.
Your head throbbed, making you light-headed, but you could feel that your body was hurting less than you remembered it to be. Nonetheless, you winced in pain as you shifted in your furs, and brought your hand to your temple in a hiss. But another hand beat you to it, gently pressing against your forehead to assess your body temperature, a shush uttered close to your ear as you blinked the blur away. You would have recognised the familiarity of the touch anytime, Aemond’s way of eliciting chills over your body whenever he was near indication enough. When your vision cleared, you saw him, sitting on a chair next to the bed, observing your traits with a concerned eye. Naerys was in his arms, wrapped in linen.
You watched the sight endearingly, still a bit dizzy from your slumber and fever, but when you met Aemond’s amethyst gaze you remembered. Threats, loneliness, blood, falling, then nothing but blackness. 
Aemond must have seen the growing panic in your eyes because he parted his lips and brought his hand to your forearm in order to steady you.
“How long?” you sharply asked as you straightened in the bed, looking around with wide eyes.
“Shh…You are still recovering, you must lie still, Y/N.”
Hearing his voice was warming, comforting, but you could not let it affect you.
“How long, Aemond?” you stressed, choosing to stare at him instead of scouring the room for something, anything.
He sighed, his serious eye not leaving you. “A day and a half.”
You sharply inhaled, visualising in your head all of  the things that would have occurred while you were sleeping in the dark, unable to reach for your husband. To fight Alys. To act.
But as you scrutinised every crook and cranny of the tent, ready to stand up at any movement, it became evident that you were the only ones present in the room, and you felt your concern inexplicably heighten. You reported your gaze at Aemond who was intensely observing you, the words he wanted to say stuck in his throat.
“Where is she?” you asked, voice shaking despite the coldness in your heart.
“She is dead.”
Your breath hitched at his statement, his expression hard as he held your gaze, patient, but you could see his exhaustion on his pale face.
“I don’t understand… How-” you breathed.
“Vhagar. She took care of it.”
Silence filled the room, feeling the heavy atmosphere around you while you sensed your fever inexplicably lowering. You were unable to tear your eyes away from him, to examine him, to assess if the man you had in front of you was the Aemond you knew, or was still the man who dismissed you not so long ago with such harshness. All of this because of your mistakes.
“Give her to me,” you demanded, shifting your position on the furs and extending a weak hand toward the bundle in Aemond arms, the need for your daughter the only thing you were certain of at the moment.
He seemed to consider it for a minute, lowering his head to gaze down at Naerys, but after a trembling sigh he reported his gaze to you, eye burning with emotion you could not decipher. “Y/N… I-”
“Please Aemond, I wish to hold my daughter,” you pressed, trying to keep your voice from shaking.
Aemond bit his lip, but dared not to talk further as he slowly did what you asked, handing you Naerys. Once she was in your arms, you instantly got out of your bed and walked near the table, away from Aemond as you gazed down at your daughter’s violet eyes, determined to not let her go.
You heard Aemond shoot up from his position to follow you. “Y/N, please, do not walk away from me-”
“What are you doing up?” Alicent Hightower asks from the threshold of the tent as she appeared. “You should be resting! Why didn’t you send for the maester, Aemond?”
You felt him tense in frustration behind you at the interruption as you looked at the Dowager Queen, her eyes watchful but happy to see you healthy.
“I am perfectly able to know when my wife is in need of a maester. Leave it to me to care, mother.”
Alicent gave her son a scolding look before nodding. “Well, at least I am glad to see Naerys elsewhere than in your arms. He would not let go of her lately, not even handing her to me,” she then said in your direction, and you instantly turned your head to Aemond, feeling something in you softening.
Maybe it was the way you both looked at each other, both standing up unmoving in the middle of the tent, the atmosphere thickening, but after a while, Alicent felt obliged to clear her throat. Aemond did not stare away.
“I will warn your father of your awakening as well, Y/N, he will be here with the maester shortly,” she announced, advancing towards you. “How are you feeling, my dear?”
“If I may, I would like to be left alone with my wife, please,” Aemond said, still eye still on you.
“Of course, but she must be consulted by the maester first-”
“No.” Aemond abruptly said, leaving both you and Alicent to stare at him with shock. “Leave. Please,” he added more softly, realising how harshly he had talked to his mother.
Alicent lowered her gaze and nodded, knowing full well that her son would not take her insistence kindly if she did so. “Very well. Make sure she drinks what she needs.”
When you were once again alone, you realised that you had not moved from your spot near the table, nor even spoken a word. However, Aemond had walked toward you in two great strides, coming to stand a few feet away from you, not wasting time.
“Y/N, I will not leave this tent until you understand how I feel. I need you to understand.”
You felt something in you twitch. “I thought I couldn’t. That I have never been able to. That is what you told me.”
The bitterness in your voice made him flinch, but he would not back down. He needed to say his piece, even though he would have difficulties expressing it. He was not good at this sort of thing, but here and now, it was necessary.
“This is untrue, you know it is. You are the only one that has ever been able to see me as I am. I am sorry that I made you feel otherwise.” 
You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling Naerys move in your arms, cooing, and you realised that you were neither angry, nor sad, but something in between. Whatever it was, it prevented you from looking at the man you loved dearly, too scared that you would come undone in front of him.
“Please look at me.”
The distraught in his voice made you close your eyes in an ache, your feelings too overwhelming to handle. But then your chin was lifted and you were forced to open your eyes, directly meeting his amethyst one.
“I would never have acted the way I did if I knew what would have happened to you. You must believe me. I realised it too late, and I will never forgive myself for it. I fear I will pay for it for the rest of my life."
You felt tears well up into your eyes but you refused to let them free. Instead you got lost in his gaze, what you called home, what felt like home, what you could never live without.
It was uncanny, the way you loved him, how it stuck to your skin and your soul, unable to let go. How your very being was at his mercy, even though you had doubted it these past few days. It had not been the first time.
Still, you would never let him go.
“You said you wanted glory, the Throne… I know that in your heart, you had always desired it.”
You saw him swallow, but Aemond’s eye searched yours like they were the only thing existing on this earth.
“I will not deny that I did not see myself on the Iron Throne once, but much has changed since then. I have been blinded by promises and my rage, letting them rule me and make me vulnerable. I won’t let that happen again.”
You repressed a shiver as you felt his thumb caress your cheek, losing yourself in the touch. “I don’t want you to be unhappy…”
“I am not,” he hastily said, coming to cup your face urgently with both hands. “How could I be when I have you?”
You pressed your hand against one of his, briefly leaning into his touch, your heart pacing in your chest. You had to get rid of your doubts, whatever it took. “Why did you spare her? Back then, when you took the castle?”
You had spoken the words as if afraid to tell them, and Aemond’s gaze faltered as he felt a sour taste in his mouth.
“I thought I needed her at that time,” he replied. “That her visions would allow me to protect my family, to stop the Blacks from taking you away from me. Never did I expect her to fall into Daemon’s hands, the threat they represented to become real.” 
The mention of the Rogue Prince left a chilling sensation between the two of you, but it was quickly replaced by how warm his fingers were on your skin. It gave you life. You surely have been dead for the past days.
“I thought you were going to perish that day, on the battlefield,” you whispered, blinking. “It was the very thing I have always dreaded, you fighting to your death, and there you were, duelling with the man who had taken our daughter… I was so scared Aemond.”
This time, you were unable to stop tears from rolling down your cheeks, meeting Aemond’s fingers there as he instantly wiped them away.
“I did what I had to. I would never have been able to escape him. I couldn't,” he said, his breath soft on your skin as he talked in a hoarse whisper. “See what he did to us? I had to act.”
You stared at him, feeling the weight of his responsibilities on his shoulders as he spoke, and then the words that weighted your heart finally came out.
“I blame myself, Aemond.” you finally  admitted, your voice barely audible. “I am the one who struck a deal with her, because I was scared to lose you, and I could not let that happen. I made this choice, because if you died, I would have followed without hesitation.”
You saw him part his lips in mild shock, and you felt his grip on you harden. “I don’t care about what you did or did not do, but I won’t have you talk about you dying. Not when death flew so close to you and our daughter and I was not there for you. I will not.” 
“How did you break away from her?” you asked eagerly. “How did you manage to fix the mistake I’ve made?” 
“You are not responsible for this, do you hear me?” he said with an imploring tone, but you knew you would never truly believe that.
“Tell me, Aemond.” 
He frantically searched your eyes, briefly glancing down at your tear before sighing. “She grew too greedy, too confident. She underestimated me, and my love for you. That is all you need to know. I promise that she had what she deserved. I will not fail you again, I promise.”
He could not speak of how Addam Vance had pushed him to the edge, or how Alys had underestimated his link to Vhagar as well as his own blood, Targaryen’s blood not so easily manipulated. Because all that mattered at the moment was that you understood how much you were important to him, how much he needed you. So you would give him the forgiveness he desperately needed. 
“I tried to come to you. I did,” you kept on. “I swear I tried, but she wouldn’t let me. You were so distant, and I-” 
He wrapped his hand around you, pressing you and Naerys against his chest. “It’s over. None of this will ever be known. I just want you to be fine and breathing, and away from here as soon as possible.”
You could not repress a smile at the way his body made you feel safe, and it almost felt like nothing had happened. You would have stayed in this position forever if you could. But after a comfortable silence in which you leaned into each other’s embrace, you felt the weight in your heart come back, and you swallowed.
“Aemond… I do not think that I want to know, not really, but I feel that I could not live peacefully if I didn’t,” you spoke, making him turn his head to you, but you could not bring yourself to look at him.
“Did you…” you closed your eyes, bracing yourself. “Did you and Alys…?”
“No,” came his curt response, bitter. “She only made herself important to my eyes because of her visions. Nothing more, I promise you,” he kissed your temple and you felt the weight of your heart fly away, because you knew you could trust him completely. “If anything, it made me realise what I suspected for a while now.” 
You did not wish to hear more about his time with the witch, but you were curious nonetheless.
“What?” you asked when he did not continue.
“That you have given me a reason to live rather than die fighting, even though I kept losing, even though my desire for revenge grew as more time passed. You are what I always wanted, because you were always with me, Y/N.” 
He could see you were speechless when you raised your head to look up at him, lips parted as you met his warming eye. Then you said nothing, he took that opportunity to bring your mouth to his, giving you a tender and meaningful kiss that he made last delightfully before parting for air.
“What you did, coming after Daemon alone?” he said, eye digging into yours as he brushed your lower lip. “Don’t ever do that again. I was terrified that I would lose you both. I know what you tried to do, exchange your life for hers, but by the Warrior Y/N I would have let me die on that damn field after having ripped Daemon apart if something had happened to you."
You shuddered as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Never again, do you understand me?”
You nodded, still unable to form the words you wanted to say as you melted against his touch.
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-0- Part 34
Thank you so much @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan for beta reading
@let-love-bleeds-red@crazylokonugget@jeyramarie@ephemeralninon@mrswhitethornbelikov@dudfahsn@missusnora@queenofterrasen418@honeytrapsblogp-graham@heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88@ivartheblessed@xceafh@bubbletae7@omgkatherine01@tzipora-art@signyvenetia @ml0103 @nsainmoonchild @lonadane @skythighs@bietchz@samnblack@mariaelizabeth21-blog1@projectcampbell @ripdragonbeans @caribbeangal@polireader@zillahvathek@moni-cah @literishdegree99 @a-beaverhausen @thekinslayer @maniccrystalhippie @princessofdarkwinter @isaxbella749@claudie-080102@ebaylee422@hydrationqueensworld@crumblychunksofheaven@officiallyunofficialperson@grungegrrrl@stargaryenx @dark-night-sky-99 @notanenthucutlet @saeselkie
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