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coffedraven · 9 months

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The tea is delicious here 🍵 I love seeing my girl going unhinged thank you

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my babies, I couldn't leave you on that cliffhanger for too long, I'm far too excited to pump out new chapters because I'm actually keen for us all to finish this series hehe! This one is a little longer because I combined two chapters into one and refuse to cut it down. Enjoy <3

Chapter 86: Favours in Shifting Tides

Lords and servants that morning were confused when they were greeted by the sight of the Princess, clad in only her robe, barefooted, storming through the corridors and halls of the Red Keep.

None approached you, watching as your hands were curled into tight fists as you stormed away from your wing of the castle.

You were furious, and a lot of the anger that kept curling its claws into your flesh was born from the dark whispers of fear in the back of your mind. Aemond was leaving you alone once again, and who was to say that Aegon wouldn't come back to your chambers once more?

Who was to say that he wouldn't come to redeem his ‘perhaps’?

What’s more, is that in your heated anger, you did not even ask Aemond for how long he would be gone. For how long he would be leaving you to protect yourself from his family, from his allies, from the court. From many people in the Keep who wished you harm. Who wished your family harm.

And now, to make matters worse, you were with child.

His child.

You found yourself at the Godswood, simmering with anger, and as your toes pressed into the dirt and grass beneath its roots, and your chest heaved angrily, a most spiteful and almost sickening thought came to your mind as you looked up into its bright crimson branches.

You wished you would lose the child.

To spite him.

To punish him.

But you knew, that it would be more of a punishment to yourself.

And yet still, that did not stop you thinking such a thought beneath the shade of the Godswood, wishing to hurt him. Wishing to punish him. Wishing to curse him with more losses than one.

More.

More than one.

And as if the Gods had heard your prayers, and your anger, and felt your rage, you remembered in your fury something that you had. Something that you could utilise. Something that you had been waiting for a chance to reach out and touch.

Something that came with risks.

But in this moment of hazed rage, it was worth it all.

You had an ally in the Keep.

It was not to the time nor the moment to use your star fruit pass to victory quite yet, but there were other means of helping yourself in the Keep. Others who were devoted to your cause. Others loyal to your Queen mother.

You thanked the Gods for hearing your anger, and moved away, storming back to the chambers, your steps faltering with uncertainty at the potential of Aemond still being in the chambers when you arrived.

But much to your delight, and also to your disgust, Aemond was nowhere to be seen.

He was gone to his whore.

Instead, there was a small piece of parchment, left atop the bare table for you, your name slopped in his rushed script. Angrily, you snatched the letter and stormed towards the fireplace, throwing it into the flames and watching in satisfaction as the fire devoured it.

You did not read it, nor did you wish to.

Fuck him.

You moved back towards the side table with great urgency, heat licking at the side of your face as you hastily grabbed the quill and ink pot, moving to sit down at the table. You laid the parchment flat, halving it in your hand with a satisfying rip.

Quill to paper, you wrote. And the more you wrote, the more anger you felt. The fire within was fuelled by Aemond's leave. By the pregnancy. By Aegon. By 'perhaps'.

By all.

You kept it short. You kept it sweet. And soon, you were blowing on the scratches of ink with impatient breaths, rolling it up and stuffing it into the pocket of your robe. You hastily moved the ink and quill to the side of the chambers, and tossed the unwritten piece of parchment that had been torn, into the fire.

There was to be no evidence of this letter.

When the maids came and brought breakfast for you, you had given them a tight lipped smile. It was tempting to ask for their help, but in reality, you did not wish to put either of the girls in more harms way than they already were. After they had dressed you and braided your hair, you had gently folded the robe against the chair beside the bed, waiting for the girls to leave.

And as soon as the door shut behind them, you had dug your hand into the pocket and stuffed the scroll into the breast of your dress, leaving your chambers with great haste as you set about your way back through the Keep.

Not once did you feel fear. Not once did you feel conflicted. Though there was trepidation as you came towards Lady Alicent Hightower’s chambers, Ser Criston Cole standing outside of her chambers.

The dark haired knight gazed at you in confusion as you made your way towards him, holding your hands delicately in front of you. You did your best to give him a sheepish and almost shy expression, playing up the act of embarrassment and nervousness.

You needed to look defenceless.

You needed to look doe-ish.

Innocent.

A weak woman.

“I need to speak with Alicent.” You spoke softly, twiddling with the ring upon your finger, spinning the dragon and ruby around in a circle in mock anxiety.

Ser Cole did not respond to your request, deep brown eyes still on you as you shifted from one foot to the other.

“Please,” You begged, the word feeling bitter on your tongue, “I don’t know who else to turn to.”

Look innocent.

Look lost.

Look weak.

Ser Cristons eyes roamed you again, clearly sizing you up for any potential of danger before he knocked upon her large wooden doors. A soft “enter” came from within, and the Ser Cole went in first, stepping through to announce you to the Dowager Queen.

You took a steadying breath, anger still beating in your heart like a drum as you took a step inside, looking down at the floor in a small bow. When you rose your head to meet her, you saw that she was seated at her own table, eating her breakfast.

“Princess,” Alicent looked surprised by your presence, “I was not expecting your company this morning.” She cocked her head, clearly uncertain of your visit.

You wrung your hands together in front of you as you looked down again shyly, “I’m sorry, Your Grace, I-“ You paused, “I wasn’t sure who to turn to.”

Alicent blinked at you, lifting her napkin to her lips delicately as she beckoned you over with a flick of her wrist. You turned your head to look at Ser Cole, who’s hand was on the pummel of his sword. Alicent stood from her spot at the table and moved to sit atop a large green chaise before her fire, another seated opposite, opening her arm to show you where to sit.

You moved across the room, glancing once more at Ser Cole shyly as you sat opposite her. You wrung your hands in your lap as you let the room bask in uncomfortable silence. Alicent dipped her head towards you, to show you that you may speak.

Bitch.

“You’re a mother.” You all but blurted, looking back at Ser Criston, who stood close by to Alicent.

The Dowager Queen looked at you oddly.

Swallowing, you placed a hand atop your belly, no real sign of life there besides the tiniest of bloating, “And I am to be a mother too.”

You played up the act by smiling down at your stomach, before you looked back up at Alicent, who seemed to have relaxed at your words. The older woman clearly knew where this conversation was about to go, though her guard was still up.

You sighed heavily, wringing your hands back in your lap again, falsely picking at the skin around your nails, in a way you had watched her do countless times, “I know that we have not seen eye to eye.” You paused, watching as her brow twitched, “Nor do I expect us to. But,” You took a pausing breath, watching as the room stilled with tension, “I don’t know who else to turn to.”

You looked back down into your lap as Alicent shifted, straightening, adjusting herself against the green and gold pillows that were propped behind her before leaning forward, her head cocked as she tried to catch your gaze.

“What is wrong, Princess?”

“I am- frightened.” You hesitated, pulling a piece of skin from the nail, watching a small bead of blood rise to the surface. You bit the inside of your cheek as you fought with the anger inside of you, trying to focus on your fingers instead.

The older woman said nothing as she allowed you to continue.

“It all seems so… foreign. I-“ You looked up at see Criston Cole’s brow furrow, standing behind Alicent as he watched the two of you.

Cunt.

You shifted in your seat, looking down and up more than once before you moved yourself to the edge of the chaise, leaning forward to whisper, “There are… changes in my body.”

Ser Cole’s eyes finally lifted away from you, his armour shifting as he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Alicent seemed to understand your unease, and even sympathise with it. She turned her head, her soft curls spilling over her shoulder as she looked to Ser Criston Cole, “Thank you Ser Criston. I think the Princess and I should have this talk in private.”

The knight looked at the both of you, before bowing his head, turning on his foot to leave the chambers, his white cape swaying with each step before it disappeared from sight, the door shutting behind him softly.

You did not know that getting Alicent alone would be quite so easy.

“Helaena came to me when she was first with child.” Alicent reminisced, “It is nothing to be feared.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, “I don’t know what to do or expect. The Septa had told me once, but nothing but tales of birthing, and pain, and,” You swallowed thickly, “Blood. But there are changes in my body, my bleed has not come for some time, and I find even my moods have changed.”

Alicent gave you a small nod, and even offered an even smaller smile, “When I carried Aegon inside of me, I found that my body knew almost immediately what to do. And whatever I did next was instinctual. The Seven will guide you, and you will know what to do.”

You nodded looking down at your hands, thinking of how to ask what you were here for all along.

Alicent however, spoke before you had the chance, “We should have the Maester take a look at you, just to be sure. Then we can figure out when we should be expecting the babe.”

She promoted it herself.

Stupid cunt.

You looked down shyly in your lap again and nodded, neck feeling as though it would snap from the amount of shy looks you had given your lap, and hoping the blush on your cheeks from your rage looked as though it was from meekness instead. Alicent stood and walked towards you, her presence towering and looming, almost threatening.

Was this what it was like for Helaena?

Then the Dowager Queen did something that you had not expected. Your mothers once closest friend, lifted an uneasy hand and placed it atop on your shoulder in an attempt of comfort. And you let her. You turned your head to look up at her and smiled. Alicent gave you a crooked one back before speaking again.

“Come, I will have one of the Maester’s sent to your chambers.”

But there were more than one Maester who served the Queen, and suddenly you began to panic.

“Please, Your Grace,” You grasped the hand that had not left your shoulder, before you took it away from her awkwardly, fingers twisting in your lap, “Can I have the Maester that tended to my wounds?”

Alicent’s once warm expression flittered and faded, and suddenly the Lady Alicent Hightower looked at you with suspicion.

You needed to think fast.

You looked down again, fiddling with your fingers, imitating her nervous habit as her eyes flickered down to watch them.

“He has seen me… compromised before. I don’t wish to have any more eyes upon my body than my husbands. After Aegon-“ You stopped yourself and breathed a shaky breath, which was not at all faked, “I know it is stupid-“

Delicate fingers squeezed reassuringly atop your shoulder, “Not stupid at all, sweet girl.” She reassured you with a soft voice. Though her face still looked unsure.

“My scars are hideous,” You spat softly, “I don’t want people to see what I am. I don’t want people to mock Aemond for my deformity at Court. I want to be good to him. I’m to have his child, and he has been good to me. So good to me, Alicent. It is more than I deserve.” Lie, “Our marriage is sacred, it was done under the eyes of the Seven and the Old Gods. I am his, just as he is mine. And I don’t want anyone else to see me but him, or those who have already. I know it is a lot to ask, Your Grace, but I want to respect my husband and the vows that we made to each other.”

The Dowager Queen smiled at you, her hand coming to brush against your cheek sweetly, as if proud or relived by your words, “Aemond would appreciate your devotion and duty to him. I will send for the Maester who attended to your wounds.”

You smiled at her softly, the wringing of your hands stopping, “Could you please ask him to bring me some more of that cream? I know my side has healed now, but sometimes it itches and twinges, and there was something in it that always soothed my skin.”

Alicent’s face relaxed and you felt yourself relax too.

“Of course. Now, let’s get you to your chambers.”

You were escorted to your chambers by Alicent as she sent Ser Criston to fetch the Maester, telling him to bring the old man to your chambers. As you walked with Alicent, you suddenly become nervous.

Was she to watch over this?

Was she to be in the room this whole time?

Alicent’s steps were slow yet determined, no rush in her pace and an air of authority that seemed to come to her forcefully. Likely due to being crowned Queen at such a young age. To have been tossed from Lady Hightower to Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. To have the Court and nobles shift their perception around you would have been a shock. But something that Alicent had carried well. For the most part.

Though she walked with you, she was a mere two paces ahead, she was leading you. There was no illusion that the two of you were equals, nor was there any illusion to the Lords and Ladies who passed you in the Halls that you were more than a Princess and her mother-in-law.

When you had arrived to your chambers, the knight at the door had straightened himself, more than you had ever seen, and reached for the door with a stiffness in his bones. Alicent had let herself into the chambers before you, and you had followed closely behind.

Joanna and Amala were in the room tidying, and at the sight of the Dowager Queen in your shared chambers, their eyes had widened and they had bowed at the hip to her, clearly not expecting such a visit. Alicent had dismissed them with a quiet, yet polite command, and both girls had bowed towards the two of you as they left the chambers.

The auburn haired woman looked about the chambers, her eyes roaming over the bed, to the table that was now stacked with a pile of tomes, to the side table where the quills and scrolls were sat. Her strides were purposeful as she moved across the chambers, seating herself atop the chaise where you usually sat as she waited.

An awkward sort of silence curled around both of you, the only sound the crackling fire behind her. You stood at the entrance of the chambers as she watched you expectantly. Taking the hint, you moved to sit beside her as you waited for the Maester to arrive.

“You said he has been good to you?” Alicent broke the silence.

He has fucked a bastard into his whore.

He has raped and defiled me.

He has humiliated me.

He killed my brother.

But he has been kind to me.

“Yes, Your Grace. He tends to my every need with unwavering devotion. You have done well to raise him as you have.”

With an anger that could scorch the world.

Jealousy that could kill.

You hoped.

Alicent gave a small nod, hands stiff in her lap as she thought of what next to say. As her mouth parted once more, the doors to the chambers opened and she swiftly shut her lips. The old Maester entered the chambers, a satchel at his side.

The man bowed as he looked at Alicent, “Your Grace, you have summoned me?”

Alicent stood, hands still at her front, “The Princess is with child.” The Maester’s eyes flicked to yours, a flash of disbelief moving across his face before it was schooled with a sterile expression of a Maester, “We need to ensure that all is well, and have you answer any questions that she might have.”

The grey man nodded as he came further into the chambers. He moved towards the table, shifting the pile of tomes to one side as he placed his satchel atop, slowly pulling out its contents. He did it with a slowness and precision that was well practised and almost instinctual.

“When was your last bleed?” The Maester asked, pulling out a chair at the table for you to sit at.

You stood and made your way across the chambers, Alicent following closely behind, “I’m unsure. Two? Maybe three moons ago?”

How long had it been?

The Maester hummed nodding his head as you moved to sit down, “And when did you notice the changes?”

You thought for a second.

When had you noticed the changes?

The library? When Aemond’s hands atop your breasts sparked pain?

When you noticed a swell of your breasts?

Your moods?

“Perhaps a moon ago? It’s hard to say. I wasn’t expecting-“ You stopped yourself, “I didn’t know what to expect.”

The Maester turned to face his back towards Alicent, his cool eyes dancing over you in concern, you gave him a small, reassuring smile.

“And have you had any changes to your appetite? Your moods? Desires?”

The last question caused you to grimace, your eyes flicking towards the Dowager Queen who shifted awkwardly atop her feet. You blushed heavily as you looked down into your lap.

You needed to get alone with the Maester.

“Were you trying frequently?” The Maester pressed, “Do you have an idea of when conception could have been?”

You looked at Alicent shyly, hands twisting in your lap visibly. Alicent stepped forward again, cheeks a rosy red like the bushes in the Gardens, or perhaps the leaves from the Godswood, and placed a hand atop your shoulder, “I will give you some privacy. I will be at the door if you need.” With a reassuring smile, she left the chambers for you to be alone with the Maester.

When the door shut closed, the Maester’s demeanour changed, and a sense of panic consumed him.

“Were you drinking the tea each day?” He whispered, eyes searching your face as he rifled through his satchel.

“Yes. I think. I don’t know.” You told him truthfully.

“If I was to give you another dose, it may not work now. It would have to be stronger than the small ones I had been giving you. They were supposed to be preventative, so it wouldn't harm you-“ He rambled, “Your mother is-“

“Please.” Your hand grasped his, stilling his movements and words, “It’s ok. I have made my peace with it. And so must you. Plus, they would become suspicious if I did not fall pregnant for much longer. Our time has come, and there is no running from it.”

The Maester breathed through his nose and nodded solemnly, removing his hand from the satchel and reexamining the ones he had brought out already. A familiar container seated atop the table.

“And what are your symptoms? Are you sure?”

You nodded your head, “I have not bled, and my breasts are sore and swelling.”

The older man let out a deep sigh, pushing towards you some bottles, “These may help you if you get any sickness. Some women become sick when with child. I have crushed ginger root, chamomile root and liquorice root, it can help settle any stomach ailments.”

You nodded your head as he began to explain the different vials and containers, all to assist you along and to use in case of any ailments and asking which ones you may think you might need. Though as he was explaining, and the longer he looked, he reached back into his satchel, ripping a tiny patch of material back that had been falsely stitched, and inside was a tiny glass tube.

A dark and long root, that was curled around itself sat inside the vial.

“‘The Herb of Grace’.” The Maester uttered, leaning forward to slip the vial up your sleeve, reminding you of the other hidden belonging in your gown, “Ruta is a powerful plant, if you wish to end what ails you, eat it all. I cannot guarantee your safety after, but it will kill the child.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, before pointing at the cream, “Is this for my scar?”

The old man nodded, handing it towards you.

“Does it still cause pain?” He asked, the Maester’s inquisitive and healing front coming back.

You nodded, “At times it twinges, more itch than not. But others it causes a striking pain, especially when touched or knocked.”

The man hummed, “That can be normal with scars like these. Aemond still feels phantom and ghostly pains, as I am sure you have figured out.”

You placed the tub on the table, looking to the door again, before back at the Maester in a hurry. You leant forward, hand coming up to the breast of your gown, digging your fingers beneath the surface as you fished the scroll from within.

The Maester watched you with furrowed brows as he nervously looked to the door and back.

“We don’t have much time, but you told me once I had allies, and now I need one more than ever.” You thrust the parchment into his hand, closing his fist around it hastily. His eyes searched yours, a moment of fear settling over the two of you.

“I don’t call for help here yet, but when the time comes, know that I have other means of gathering it. But this I must beg of you,” Your fingers tightened around his hand in a way you knew would be painful, your knuckles turning white, “Send a raven to my mother and father. Give them this.” You squeezed his hand.

You begged him with your eyes, pouring every ounce of desperation into you that you had. The Maester stayed quiet as he looked at you, hand still in yours, the parchment scrunched in his palm.

With a tension that did not leave his shoulders, he gave a small, almost missable nod, taking his hand back from yours as he tucked the paper into his belts, hidden away from sight. Relief washed over you, and you felt tears rise into your eyes.

You blinked them away quickly as you thought of how compromising it would be to be caught in such a way. You watched as he stood slowly, putting in unused vials back into his satchel, bringing it to his side. You stood to join him, looking into his eyes.

With a deep breath he spoke one last time, “Without a doubt, you are with child.” Another breath, and another hand atop your shoulder, once where Alicent’s had been, “I’m sorry.”

The Maester pulled away from you, moving towards the chamber doors as he pulled them open. Alicent thanked the Master at the door, the both of them discussing the care that would be needed as you moved to sit back at the table, looking at the many vials that he had left for you.

‘Sorry.’

But you weren’t.

Alicent had stayed with you for a moment more, as you told her of what the Maester had left you, pointing to the different vials and cannisters, carefully hiding the bulge in the wrist of your dress where a last and final, more sinister vial was hidden. By the time you were done, you felt fatigue bite at your heels, and so you begged to be excused, wishing to lay down. Alicent seemingly understanding the emotional upheaval of the day, left you to your privacy.

When the door shut behind her, you moved, and with gentle hands, you placed the tiny vial behind the large wooden wardrobe near the bed, wedging it between the wall and itself. Flopping yourself down, you laid atop the bed, a long smile winding on your cheeks.

On the piece of paper given to the Maester, was a letter written in High Valyrian.

��Mother and father,

I am doing as good as I can be in this vipers nest, and the tides are beginning to shift. I ask of a favour, and one you must not refuse. There is a woman, Alys Rivers, a Strong bastard who resides in Harrenhal. She is a danger to us all. A witch, they say. And a paramour to my husband with child. A sure danger to me.

See to it that she is no longer.

Yours,

Zāldritsos.’

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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