#she knows there's a heir and knows its her full-blooded brother but that's it - no emotional connection so she doesn't care | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

weird-addiction · 9 months

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Savage Within

Pairing: House of the Dragon x Male!Targaryen!Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, murder, burning down an entire city, dragon death, threatening people, bloody duels, graphic descriptions, gore.

Being the first born of King Viserys was not easy, being the heir and prince of dragonstone, Y/n hated it. He was the first born son of King Viserys, older brother to princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.

He was three years older than his younger sister, making him already ten and eight years old, a dragon rider since he was seven years old. Trained in the art of the sword ever since he could stand, the responsibilities weighed down on him. He wanted to be free, not free in the normal sense, free in the mental sense of things. Y/n felt like he was trapped in his mind prison, the key burned away in his blood that was set alight by the dragon flame.

There was a side of him that could not be unleashed, if it did the end of days will arrive sooner then how Aegon the Conqueror dreamed of it.

The Red Keep was that he has known, he was born in these very halls, in the same birthing bed that his mother Queen Aemma has had multiple miscarriages and stillborns on. His father has always said when Y/n finally was brought into the world, his cries were all the Red Keep heard, when the midwife said it was a boy, Viserys cried happy tears as his wife held the babe in her arms.

Y/n had the natural silver hair and violet eyes of his Valyrian forefathers, as he grew into a man his hair got longer and eyes got sharper. Growing into a handsome prince, most of the ladies at court would chase after him, greater and minor lords would offer their daughters, nieces, sisters and cousins as his future wife.

He wanted nothing to do with them. Marriage. Children. A wife. His own family. None of it, he did not want any of it.

Walking to his mother’s room, he was in riding gear as he was going to the Dragon Pit after visiting. Pushing open the door, the room had incense burning, maesters, midwives all attending to the pregnant queen.

“Mother.” He called out as he walked over and sat down next to her on a smaller stool.

“Y/n. My beautiful boy. How are you? Are you going to go riding again?” She asked as she fanned herself.

“Yes, Seiphax has grown restless within the pit. I heard from the Dragonkeepers that they would cry out at night.” A smile adored his features, the carefree nature of his was on full display.

Y/n’s eyes fell to his mother’s belly, swollen with child. Aemma saw this and laughed. “Your new sibling will be here soon.”

“Mother, I worry for you. You keep on trying pushing out heirs, your body will be eventually destroyed, you cannot keep this up.” He said with worry. “Father already has me as heir, why does he need anymore children? Does he not know of your miscarriages?”

Aemma gestured for her son to come forward, putting a piece of hair behind his ear when he got close enough. “Queen Alyssa had nine children..” Y/n rolled his eyes and pulled away from her. “I know, you have told me that since I have not wanted to marry.”

“As queens, we have to do our duty to the realm.” Y/n crossed his arms before his eyes. “But mother…”

He shut up as he saw Aemma give him the ‘look’. Letting out a sigh before putting up his hands in defense. “Alright. Alright. I’m just gonna go…I will think about my marriage I guess.” Y/n turned and left the room, going to the dragon pit and mounting Seiphax.

Taking to the skies, getting as far away as possible from King’s Landing at the moment. If he was not heir, he would have already fled across the Narrow Sea and escaped and lived freely.

His dragon was the same size as Caraxes, if not bigger, its wingspan was bigger than the Blood Wyrm but its neck was not snake-like. The scales were a shiny black color, when the dragon first hatched his father had thought it was Balerion reincarnated.

Within the clouds, above all cities and the people, the wind that blew through his hair gave him the peace he wished he could have. Any other boy would love to be in his position as prince. He knew of what the smallfolk said about him.

The dragon sat in midair as it floated above the clouds. Y/n’s bond with his dragon was strong, sometimes even without High Valyrian, it was like his dragon could understand what he wanted to do.

Y/n was beginning to slip off the saddle, his dragon realized what he was going to. His body weight shifted all to one side and soon he was free falling to the ocean below. Seiphax flew after him, flying as fast as they could and eventually caught him on his back again.

“Just let me fall Seiphax…..” Was all he said before he took control of the dragon again and flew back to King’s Landing.

Landing back down at the Dragon Pit’s entrance, he got off as he soothed the beast. “Good to see you back prince. Your sister arrived not long after you left.” He walked over to the horse they had brought for him.

“Right. Let’s get back to the Keep before my father freaks out again.”

—-------------

Things have moved too fast for him, the tourney, the death of his mother and brother, his uncle getting exiled, his father getting remarried, Alicent getting pregnant, having a half-brother, Rhaenyra getting betrothed, the wedding leading to someone dying.

Time flew by and soon ten years had gone by, he was in the same if not worst state he was in before. His nephews and half-siblings have grown up now, all were now at least children that could understand the world that goes around them.

His uncle has married Lady Laena Velayron, giving him twin girls of pure Valyrian blood; Baela and Rhaena.

His sister getting pregnant again with her third child.

Everyone around him is getting on with their lives, but him, Y/n was heir, and yet he was still alone. Every time they talked about him getting married he managed to sneak away to the dragon pit and fly off into the skies, he would fly for hours and would not come back unless they dropped the topic on his arrival back.

This day, when he arrived back to the Red Keep he saw his sister walking the halls with a newborn in her arms. He saw his brother-in-law Laenor helping her as she had a limp, he went over and got her other arm.

“Sister, why are you walking? You should be resting after your labors.” His voice was laced with concern.

“The queen has asked for the baby.” Laenor replied, disgust written all over it.

“Again? Thought we were over this.” Y/n shook his head.

“That’s exactly what I said.” The other male said with a sigh.

Soon, they arrived at the queen’s chambers. Even Alicent looked shocked at Rhaenyra walking.

Y/n could only stand awkwardly to the side as he eyed everyone and practically everything in the room. His father walked in shortly after, but he could care less. He knew more than everyone else in this room, he knew it was all the Hightowers doing, he knew Alicent was the one spreading the rumors, Otto Hightower was the vulture he wanted to hunt and shoot through the eye with an arrow.

Alicent then came over to him. “Prince Y/n. Your sister has delivered another healthy babe, it is only a matter of time before you need heirs of your own. Me and your father can find you a suitable match..-”

Y/n groaned and rolled his eyes. “Stop. Your grace.” He began to turn away. Y/n gave a silent glare before leaning in and whispering into her ear. “I know you and what you are, a snake and a vulture on the throne. Once my father is gone and dead and cold in his grave, you will overlook me and my sister and install your own children on the throne. If your father did see me as the true heir, he would not have made you marry my father. He only wishes to see his own blood on the Iron Throne.”

Pulling away, a frown was on his lips. Alicent had an unreadable expression, she was stunned at first but then spoke up anyway. “I’m sure that is not what my father intended for my prince. You are the first born to King Viserys, you are the heir with no doubt.”

Y/n could only scoff as he decided to walk out of the room, going off to the dragon pit again as he wanted the comfort of his dragon.

His dragon has grown double in size, almost bigger than any dragon in the realm save for Vhagar. It was bigger than Caraxes, bigger than Vermithor, bigger than Dreamfyre.

Perhaps it really was Balerion again.

—-------------

Lady Laena has died to Vhagar, setting herself aflame by the dragon’s fire. Everyone was gathered on Driftmark to her funeral, the princes and princesses clearly seemed bored and did not want to be there.

Y/n stood next to his half-sister Helaena, he was her elder by many years, but Helaena thought comfort in him. Y/n knew she was a shy girl, and did not want to converse with others often. He saw Rhaenyra in the distance, he excused himself to go see his sister.

“Nyra…I know you want to see him.” He said, taking a goblet and filling it with wine.

“I do not know what you speak of brother.”

She was still trying to deny it, he knew this well. “I know how you look at uncle. You can’t fool me.”

He did not say anything more, he wanted to drink and get rid of this unnecessary stress. Standing off to the side as he drank, soon his half-brother Aegon spotted him. The boy came over to him, also holding a cup in his hand. “Drinking so soon brother?” The younger asked.

“I should be asking you that, though it’s not a surprise considering it’s you. Guess you take after me.” Downing his wine in one gulp.

“Guess I do, I don’t really see that being a bad thing.”

Y/n gave him a warning glare before walking away. His family has not been the same ever since Alicent married his father, and at this rate there was more infighting going on then Aegon’s conquest to conquer the Seven Kingdoms.

He walked away from the ceremony and to sanded areas of Driftmark. His dragon slept along and behind one of the hills, spotting it was easy as the black scales shimmered in the sunlight.

Seiphax growled as he sensed Y/n’s presence, nuzzling into his rider’s warmth as Y/n patted its snout and soothed him. Seiphax growled more, suggesting to his rider that he wanted to fly and stretch its wings. “I know boy, I’ll take you tonight. How’s that?” The dragon growled in delight at the question.

“Alright. I will be back. Right now I need to go….” He cut himself off, he felt a strong urge to do something.

“I will come back. Just rest for now, yeah?” He patted the dragon’s snout before walking away.

His hand on his sword, though there was no need to bring a sword to the funeral, Y/n does not part with his blade.

Y/n wandered for a while, he does not know where he went, he just knows he ended up in a forest. There was something pulling him here, and he answered the call.

The further he got into the forest, the pull began to get stronger. He got to an area where some people were gathered, it was there he felt it. He felt something pushing towards them, his hand gripped his sword harder than before.

“Kill..”

“Huh?” He heard a voice, he was sure of it.

“Kill them all..”

“What?” The voice was there, he could not have been wrong.

“Kill them and prove your worth..”

He walked closer to the gathered folk, seeing them up close, he realized who they were. They bore the sigil of the Hightower, wearing the green colors with pride, the tower sigil representing their power.

Seeing it made his blood boil.

“Do you remember the dress Alicent wore on your sister’s wedding day? It was green. What colors does the tower fire glow when Oldtown calls its banners to war?”

“Green..” His voice was laced with hatred. It was clear to him now what Alicent did when she wore such a dress. Queen Visenya should have burned the faith and the Hightowers down when she had the chance.

Unsheathing his sword, he walked, then it turned into a run then a full on sprint.

He plunged his sword into the first man, after that everything was a blur. He fully blacked out.

—---------

Vhagar had been claimed, but nothing was without a price. Prince Aemond has lost an eye, cut out by his own nephew Luke.

Everyone was gathered back to the main hall, Aemond was getting his eye stitched up after getting it fully taken out. Luke had a broken nose, the others all had bruises. Aemond was trying so hard not to scream, in the moment he wanted to hold his half-brother's hand, Y/n was the only one who did not judge him for not having a dragon.

“Jace? Luke!” Rhaenyra bursts into the room, going to check on her children.

“Where is my son? Where is my heir?!” Viserys shouted at the guards, the kingsguard could only look at each other as they knew not of where Y/n was.

“We have not seen him at the fight Your Grace, perhaps he was still in bed.” One of them said, unsure of his answer.

Viserys looked toward the kids, looking for some sort of answer to where his heir would be. Most of the children looked away, not knowing where Y/n was at all. All except for one, Helaena, but she stood still as she casted her gaze towards the ground instead. She was mumbling under her breath, but no one managed to catch what it was.

Aegon stood off to the side as he was drunk and asleep but then woken up by everyone else, he didn’t know anything and yet here he was standing here as if he was on trial for a crime. Aemond sat in the chair with only one remaining good eye, he also did not see his half-brother during his fight, or even when he claimed Vhagar.

Jace and Luke both looked away not knowing where their uncle was, Luke clutched onto his mother’s dress skirts and tried to hide behind her as much as possible. Jace just stood, his eyes anywhere but to look at his grandsire. Rhaenyra had a hand on Luke’s back as she tried to comfort him.

Alicent could only look away as she also did not know, she stood over Aemond as she tried to offer some sort of comfort to her son who had just lost an eye. Squeezing his hand in hers as they both stayed silent.

“Does anyone know where in the seven hells Y/n might be?!” Viserys shouted again, no doubt some of the kids flinched at his tone.

“Father..” Rhaenyra pleaded.

“The towers that glowed green, they would be engulfed in dragon flame..”

Helaena mumbled under her breath, the only person close enough to her was Aegon, but he only brushed it off as nonsense.

“So does no one know where my son is?” He looked towards his guards again.

“He was not in bed.” Aemond finally said. “I have not seen him since the ceremony.”

“When did you last see him, Aemond?”

“He was with Aegon.”

“Me?”

Viserys then turned to his second son. “And you boy? Where is your brother?” Aegon did not reply.

“AEGON! Your king demands an answer!”

“None of the children has seen him since the ceremony. Indulging his dragon I would believe, I saw him walk away.” Alicent finally spoke up.

“The towers that glowed green, they would be engulfed in dragon flame..”

Helaena continued to mumble.

“Send people out to look for him, check where his dragon is.” Viserys said to the guards as they bowed.

“Husband, Aemond has lost an eye! We can look for him in the morning, but his eye cannot.” Alicent argued, she wanted justice for her son.

“I cannot restore his eye, Alicent.” Viserys said sadly.

“Because it has been taken! He’s your son Viserys! Your blood!” She was on the verge of crying and shedding tears.

“My sons were the ones that were attacked and forced to defend themselves! If my brother were here he would say the same. Vile insults were levied against them.” Rhaenyra said, pushing the two boys behind them.

“What insults?” Viserys was now confused.

“The legitimacy of son’s birth were put loudly to question.” Rhaenyra chose her words carefully.

“He called us bastards.” Jace added, looking back at Rhaenyra.

“Wh-” Viserys was cut off as a guard came into the room, catching his breath as if he just ran a couple of miles.

“The Heir’s dragon…” He said catching his breath.

“What? What has happened to Seiphax?”

“The dragon was flying by itself! The prince was nowhere in sight!” The guard managed to say.

At that moment, before anyone could say anything about it, a loud roar could be heard from outside of the Castle. The roar was so loud it seemed like it shook the whole of Driftmark itself.

The room went silent, the adults took the kids to bed as the guards went outside and assessed the situation. Rhaenyra took the kids to bed, she looked over to Daemon and silently told him to bring her brother home.

—---------

A dragon with shiny black scales can be seen flying overhead of Driftmark, taking to the skies and disappearing among the stars. Its scales make it blend in perfectly.

Flying under the moonlight, flying over to the distant forest. It slowly lowered itself down in the middle of the forest. Folding its wings in and dipping its head down, a hand slowly patted him.

“It’s alright boy, you found me.” Seiphax let out a low growl, turning its head to the dead bodies that lay upon the grass and dirt of the forest floor, the blood slowly sinking into the earth below.

The dragon eyes narrowed at the dead, through his eyes, he was asking if it was his rider that killed them. And Y/n already knew. “It was me. I first thought they were fake and I had thought I had gone mad, but since you can see them I don’t know anymore. Maybe you can see them because we are bonded.”

He leaned his forehead onto the cold scales of Seiphax, as if telling the beast he was still alright. Y/n then pulled back and went to grab where his saddle was, getting on top and making himself comfortable before yelling out a single command.

“Dracarys.”

The dragon readied itself before spitting out its flames, burning the corpses of the hightower. Y/n watched as the banner of Oldtown fell, the red and yellow flames engulfed the green. However, the flames begin to change, they begin to darken, turning to a pitch black color.

Soon the flames came to an end, Y/n felt a sense of relief as he watched the corpses burn to nothing. The only thing left was a banner of a half-burnt Hightower banner, and the burnt grass below that has been scorched. “Soves.” Was the only word that left his lips, the dragon spread its wings out but not entirely, before taking off into the sky once again.

“I owe you this flight.” Seiphax let out a sound that sounded like he was laughing, which brought a smile to Y/n’s face.

They flew to a different mountain cliff, Y/n sat cross-legged as his dragon climbed over the top of the rocks behind him. He managed to get some sleep, just barely as they soon saw the sun rise over the horizon.

He has never seen a full sunrise before, not out in the wilderness where the nature of things go undisturbed. It was silent save for the sounds of birds and the wind blowing, nothing else was there to disturb him. There were no people, no family drama, no politics, no duties, no pressure of being the heir. He can just relax.

However, nothing ever lasts forever. It was not long until he heard the screech of the blood wyrm, telling him that his uncle was nearby and ready to take him home. Upon hearing the red dragon, his own dragon Seiphax climbed over the hill of rocks and also roared at it.

Daemon was taken back at how big his nephew’s dragon has actually gotten over the ten years, now it was bigger than any other dragon in the realm, it was bigger than Caraxes he was sure. In a few years it could even rival Vhagar.

“Nephew. Let’s go.” Daemon simply said. Y/n looked tired, but he only shook his head not wanting to move. “Everyone wants you back. Your father is worried.” Daemon said again.

“No.” Y/n said. “I hate going back. Everytime I go back, the snakes and vultures that rule within my father’s council only wish to see me fall! They do not care if I am the heir, they do not think I am ready to rule. They would rather have my brother because he has the conqueror’s name!” He yelled out, almost all of the pent anger from over the years.

Daemon got off of Caraxes and went next to his nephew, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Then prove it.” Daemon said.

“What?”

“I hate the Hightowers as much as you do. Only you and me and Rhaenyra see what they truly are. We are the blood of Old Valyria. Our ancestors were conquerors, we don’t wait until the moment. We take it, either if they are willing or unwilling.”

That moment, something lit up inside of the heir. If it was only a spark before, it had turned into a flame, a flame that cannot be tamed no matter how much you throw it at the tides.

—---------

Moving to Dragonstone with his sister and uncle may not have been a smart move, however, Y/n refused to stay at the court of green any longer. After Rhaenyra and Daemon married, he had hopped onto Seiphax and flew to Dragonstone by daybreak.

Little did he know how fast time moves, six years has passed, now returning to King’s Landing to defend his nephew Luke’s title as the future Lord of the Tides.

The wheelhouse went from the dragonpit to the Red Keep, and when it stopped Y/n mentally prepared himself as he stepped out after Daemon.

“Y/n Targaryen, First of his name, Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne.” They announced his arrival.

Once they went inside, he no longer saw the Targaryen sigils of the three-headed dragon. Instead it was all replaced by the seven-pointed star of the Faith of the Seven; the Hightowers have taken over the Keep that was built by their ancestors.

“I would say it is nice to come home, but I barely recognize it anymore.” He and Rhaenyra said at the same time, they looked at each before he nodded for them to proceed.

They walked the halls they had grown up in, the familiar hallways and corridors became weird and no longer felt like it was home. Their steps stopped as they reached the doors of the King’s chambers.

Y/n went over to his father, seeing him practically bedridden brought him a sense of sadness. He promises that he will burn House Hightower to the ground.

“Father, it's me. Y/n.” He spoke quietly.

“Y/n? Oh Y/n…my heir…” Was all Viserys could say before Y/n pulled away to let his sister take over.

“I’m going out.” He said to Daemon before he left, which Daemon gave him a nod to.

In truth, Y/n had no idea where he was going to go. He wandered around for a while trying to clear his head, but soon he found himself in the training yard.

He saw his nephews there as well, watching someone going against Ser Criston Cole. When the view changed, he saw the silver haired prince was none other than his half-brother Aemond.

Something was definitely going to go wrong.

During the council to determine Luke’s claim to Driftmark, halfway through King Viserys came in after all. Viserys deemed his grandson Lucerys the rightful heir to Driftmark and yet Vaemond would not have it, Viserys decided to also have Y/n say who he would pledge to as the rightful future Lord of the Tides.

“I would pledge to my nephew Lucerys Velaryon as the future Lord of the Tides, as the heir I will have him rule driftmark while Jacecerys will have a place in my court.” Y/n said with his head held high for the Hightowers to see, he has not even spit fire yet and they looked scared in the mere presence of a dragon. Scratch that, they were in a room of dragons and yet they were only scared of one.

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine! My house survived the doom! And a hundred tribulations besides! And I will not see it ended on the account of this-”

“Say it.” Daemon whispered as he nudged Y/n on the elbow.

“Her children are BASTARDS! And she is a whore.” Vaemond spat. Many gasped around the throne room.

“I will have your tongue for that.” Viserys managed to say as he got out the conqueror’s blade.

Y/n in one swift movement cut off the top of Vaemond’s head, just above where his tongue was. “He can keep his tongue.” He said, looking down at the corpse, before tearing his gaze to the Hightowers; especially Otto.

“Disarm him!” Otto yelled, but no guard dared to move.

“I am the heir, you have no say over me. No. Fucking. Need.” He wiped off his blade and sheathed it.

That was the first taste of fire the Hightowers got directly coming from Y/n Targaryen, it will surely not be the last that they see such flames.

—---------

The family dinner was a disaster, Y/n managed to break up the fight between his half-brothers and his nephews before it got even worse.

They left that night on dragon-back, getting away and hoping the drama between everyone would die down for a while.

Little did they know that Viserys passed away just as quickly, and soon the greens have taken advantage and have usurped the throne from the rightful heir and placed Aegon on the throne.

While Y/n was on Dragonstone, he had no idea of what had happened. Until Daemon came and told him.

Which led to this very moment.

Standing around the painted table, plotting the war to get Y/n back on the throne. While the men were all standing around the table, pointing out possible allies and places for resources if possible. Y/n stood next to his sister, unsure of what he needed to do, this is the worst he had feared of what was going to happen and now it has become reality.

“The greens also have dragons uncle, there has not been a dragon fighting another dragon since Maegor’s reign.” Y/n argued.

“We also have dragons. They have three adult ones by my count, we have Seiphax, Syrax, Caraxes, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, Meleys. Baela has Moondancer. There is also Seasmoke who is riderless, there are also wild dragons here on Dragonstone. We have over ten to their three, we easily outnumber them.” Daemon said, wanting to already have this war started.

“No.” All eyes turned to Y/n now.

“What do you mean Your Grace?” One of the Maesters asked.

“If we go after them with force, we will only come back with broken bones, injuries, burn marks and most likely dead dragons. I would not underestimate Aegon so easily.” Y/n spoke, focused on the map in front of him.

His eyes drifted to the end of the table, there was always one place that the greens would have control so easily, that place also had one more dragon.

“No one takes action unless I say so. Get as many allies as we possibly can, prepare the ravens Maester.” He said walking around the table, getting to the other end of it. The bottom of the map where the name Oldtown sat.

“We should bear those messages uncle.” Jace offered.

“Did you not hear what I said? I will be the only one taking action unless I give you permission. You need to stay here in case something goes wrong with me. Do you understand?” Y/n’s gaze hardened on his nephew.

Jace nodded at his uncle’s words. Rhaenyra on the other hand followed her brother out of the room.

“Brother, what are you doing? We can’t sit by and do nothing while Aegon sits on your throne.” Rhaenyra spoke quickly.

“Who said I’m doing nothing? The best way to handle such things is not to go after it with force, but rather use what we can to force it out. The greens will be on their knees begging for mercy after what I do.” Y/n turned away with a wicked smile.

Going to Seiphax, climbing onto its saddle that was just barely able to be put onto the dragon’s back, it seemed that the black-scaled dragon had once again doubled in size. It was almost as big as, if not bigger than Vhagar.

“Soves!” Seiphax took to the skies once more, this time it was not for anything nice.

They flew south for three days, before they finally got a glimpse of Oldtown from above. The city has not yet seen the dragon, but Y/n did not care as he began to fly lower and lower, until the entire city had the dragon’s shadow over it.

And that is when he heard it, the battle horn being blown. Oldtown has called its banners to war.

The fire of the tower had turned green, the banners of House Hightower rose as the armies formed quickly to defend its city. But what could they do against a dragon? Nothing.

Y/n’s target was not the city first, it was the Starry Sept. The place where the high Septon had once called his family 'abominations’. Queen Visenya was right, they should have burnt it down while they had the chance. Visenya had once said to King Aenys to burn it down and turn it to a second Harrenhal, well it was going to be just that.

Circling above the Starry Sept before he flew down quickly and yelled out a single command.

“Dracarys!” Seiphax complied with his rider’s command and began to set aflame to the sept, roasting whoever was still inside.

Y/n had Seiphax breathe his flames over the sept at least five times before he decided to burn the city; the dragon’s flames were no longer red or yellow, but rather the flames had turned black.

The burning of Oldtown as a whole had turned into a second Harrenhal, the city was engulfed in Seiphax’s black flames. Y/n had single handedly destroyed the entire line of House Hightower, as no one had managed to get out of the city under his eyes. The Hightowers all hid inside of their home, the dragon’s black flames engulfed them entirely and soon were nothing more than ash and bone.

What Y/n did not expect was another dragon meeting him in the sky, it was Tessarion and its rider Daeron Targaryen; the youngest son of Viserys and Alicent Hightower. However, Tessarion was no match for the powerful Seiphax.

Tessarion circled around the bigger dragon making it harder for Seiphax to catch him, but what Daeron did not know was that Y/n had no intention of backing down, Y/n’s goal was to kill the dragon.

Tessarion continued to circle the bigger dragon until Seiphax had enough and began to charge, turning its head to follow the smaller and its circling. The bigger dragon followed its movements before speeding up, its wings catching the wind as it went after Tessarion. Seiphax blew its fire towards Tessarion hoping to slow him down, the smaller dragon slowed down but Seiphax managed to catch up completely. Daeron managed to get his dragon to duck out of the way, but this only caused the dragon’s downfall.

When Tessarion moved away, Seiphax flapped its wings harder to speed up. Seiphax comes up on the right side of Daeron’s dragon before digging its teeth into Tessarion’s right side, the bite was not deep as Seiphax retreated its bite.

Only for Seiphax to rip out Tessarion’s right wing. The blue queen roared out in pain before it began to fall towards the earth. Daeron tried to hold onto the ropes of his saddle, but his grip slipped and began to free fall. Y/n had Seiphax fly downwards, the heir had managed to grab ahold of Daeron’s arm and pulled him up.

Daeron tried to kill Y/n as he pulled out a dagger and attempted to slice the other’s throat open. The older dodged out of the way and slapped the dagger out of his hands. “You do anything else, I will drop you. No one, not even your own mother will find your remains.” Y/n spat with a glare, looking over his shoulder.

Daeron could do nothing, his dragon had just died, he had no other weapon, Oldtown was burning, all of the Hightowers had died. There was no one to help him anymore, he could only do as his half-brother says and hope for the best that he does not die.

Seiphax flew back to Dragonstone in only two days' time, the dragon picked up speed and managed to get back early. The morning they arrived back, everyone had been awoken by the sound of wings flapping outside and a roar that shook the earth. Landing beside the castle of Dragonstone, Seiphax let his rider down along with his hostage.

Dragonkeepers and guards gathered around to see what had happened, many were shocked to see Prince Daeron covered in ash and soot, but was also surprised to see Tessarion was nowhere in sight.

“Your grace, what has happened.”

Y/n pushed Daeron to move forward as he got off of Seiphax. “I’ll explain inside. Put his hands in chains, he has already tried to kill me on my dragon.” The guards nodded and took Daeron away. Y/n gestured for the maesters to follow him inside.

Walking through the gates of the castle, he was greeted by different guards, servants and a very worried Rhaenyra. “Brother, what did you do? I just saw Daeron being taken away by the guards, did you go to Oldtown?” She asked, tugging on his sleeve.

They walked to the room with the painted table, where a bunch of lords and Daemon were present as well as his nephews. He waited for everyone to quiet down before speaking.

“Oldtown is in flames. The Starry Sept is burnt down, every member of house Hightower is dead within Oldtown. I have captured prince Daeron, for now he is our hostage. He is defenseless, he has no one to help him.” Y/n simply said. Daemon had a smile on his lips as he heard the words of his nephew.

Everyone around the table began to whisper, but no one dared to actually speak up against the heir, that is until Princess Rhaenys spoke up.

“Your grace, when I fled from the dragon pit I could have burnt them but I chose not to. Because that would have been the starting of a war, I would not have it start because of me. But now, Oldtown and the Starry Sept have been burnt, Alicent would not hesitate to come after us and burn us as well.” Rhaenys reasoned.

Y/n’s lips pulled into a wicked smile. “Why do you think I have Daeron?” The room was silent, all one could hear was the fire cracking.

“Alicent would be too scared to come after us, the only thing she can do is order Aegon around. But, if we have enough allies secured, and we have Daeron as a bargaining chip. She would not dare have Aegon hurt him. Once word reached to her Oldtown has been burnt to ash, she will know who she is dealing with.” The last part felt like spitting fire, the flame within has been caged for too long now he was letting it out.

“If the greens do decide to fight back? What then?” Someone asked.

“If they do decide to fight back, we still have enough dragons to outnumber them. Along with armies and allies, we can have every green’s head on a spike before the fucking moon turns.” Daemon said, his words made Y/n smile.

“We are Targaryens. If it is me who started this war, I will see it to the end. Descended from conquerors, we do not run from our fight.”

Rhaenyra looked to her brother and smiled, same with Rhaenys through her eyes said ‘you know the consequences’. Daemon smiled, Jace, Luke, Rhaena and Baela all looked at each other knowing they would win.

Everyone else in the room begins to plot their battle strategies, seeing which allies they have and who has been secured.

Soon enough, word had reached Alicent Hightower and her father that Oldtown had been burnt down. They say it was a black dragon that was as big as Vhagar that had done it, no one had made it out of the city.

Alicent already knew it was Y/n, years ago Y/n told her that he knew of her family’s intention, and now she was paying the price for not taking the words seriously. Days later, a raven arrived at the Red Keep telling Alicent that her youngest son Daeron was on Dragonstone being held hostage.

‘If you want your son back, dethrone Aegon and I will take my place as the rightful heir. I will spare your family, your children will have places in my court and no harm shall come to them. Make your decision quickly. Not much of my patience remains.’

That was what the letter wrote, Alicent did not know what to do. Y/n would not put her children to the sword if she surrendered, but Aegon was still on the throne and now he would not back down so easily. So, she merely told Aegon to go and speak with Y/n, bring Aemond if he wished.

A week later, Aegon showed up with Aemond on both Sunfyre and Vhagar. Y/n had been expecting them, and so Seiphax was behind him. The dragon was now seen as bigger than Vhagar.

“Brothers. Come to take back my hostage?” Y/n said in an unusual tone of voice.

“Give us back Daeron, and no one would get hurt.” Aegon spoke sternly.

Y/n let out a heartful laugh before replying. “Hurt me? Have you seen Seiphax? He could destroy you both! But enough about me, you would at least want to see Daeron right?” He gestured with his hand to bring him forward.

They made Daeron kneel as he was brought forward, Aegon and Aemond were stunned to see their brother in chains. “Let him go.”

“And you promise to dethrone yourself, Aegon?” The said male stayed silent. “No, I didn't think so.”

Meleys and Caraxes landed behind them. “So what will it be?” Aegon and Aemond both unsheathed their swords.

This battle went down in history as the one the bloodiest duels that ever happened during the Targaryen civil war.

Y/n Targaryen had managed to disarm both Aemond and Aegon before he injured them badly that they could not even move, one of Aemond’s hands had suffered so much damage that it would not stop shaking. When given the opportunity to pick up his sword again, the sword would slip through and his hand could not even lift it. Aegon on the other hand had both of his legs broken so he could not stand, but as Y/n claimed it so that ‘you may never go back on Sunfyre and fly again.’

Both of Aemond’s legs had also been slashed and stabbed as well, this was done because Y/n said it was ‘your consequence of following your brother.’

Their dragons did not have any easier fate.

Meleys had managed to injure Sunfyre and rip off one of its wings.

Caraxes had almost killed Vhagar if it wasn’t for Y/n telling Daemon to stop.

“It is Queen Visenya’s dragon, let it be. If it dies, it should die on Dragonstone, the place it was hatched.”

Both Aegon and Aemond had stayed on Dragonstone for a few days before they left for King’s Landing.

The smallfolk looked up and saw large shadows of multiple dragons; Seiphax, Syrax and Caraxes. Y/n, Rhaenyra and Daemon were back, Y/n had come for his throne.

The queen stood in front of the gates with Helaena, shielding her from the three that had just landed. Rhaenyra and Daemon had dragged Aegon and Aemond beside them, the queen was horrified to see her sons broken and hurt.

“Dethrone your son Alicent.” Bringing Aegon beside him and pulling him up as he could not stand, Y/n unsheathed a dagger from his belt and put it to the underside of Aegon’s neck. “Or I will do it myself.”

“Mother…please…” Aegon practically begged and pleaded to his mother that she do as his brother wanted. Alicent could only nod as she blinked back tears.

“Wait…where is Daeron?” She dared to ask. Y/n tilted his head as he sheathed his dagger.

“I am true to my word unlike you. He is safe on Dragonstone, after I am crowned he will be brought here. He will be properly taken care of.” He handed Aegon over to Rhaenyra as he began to walk inside.

Pushing open the doors of the throne room, the guards almost attacked him but then stopped as they saw their king in the hands of Rhaenyra not being able to walk, while Aemond was being held by Daemon who had Dark Sister strapped to his belt.

Walking up the steps to the Iron Throne before he finally sat down, he had got the throne but there was something missing. And he knew what it was.

Going down to Aegon as on top of his brother’s head was still the conqueror’s crown, taking it for himself but his uncle Daemon offered to crown him. Y/n nodded as he knelt down as Daemon put the crown up on top of his nephew’s head.

This was a temporary crowning as the ceremony will be the official one that deems Y/n king of the realm. But, Y/n had a reason he wanted the crown now.

“Bring Otto Hightower to me.” He said to the guards, Daemon glared at them which made them comply, but also because of their scared queen.

Otto was soon brought into the room, looking confused before his expression turned that into a scared one. “Your grace…” Was all he could say.

“Otto, you really are a snake. My father could not see it, but I surely can. Even from a young age I could tell all you wanted was your own blood on the throne. But look here we are, your grandsons barely able to move or even just stand.” Y/n said all with a wide smile.

“You got what you wanted, but why did you burn down Oldtown?! My family had no part in this!” Otto shouted back.

“Right, it wasn’t the Starry Sept that called my family abominations. It was not Oldtown that supported Alicent to do what she did. But, that was all in the past. The real reason?” Everyone waited for his answer.

“History remembers names, not blood. If this war was fought and we still won, it would be Aegon’s name that is remembered, not mine. I needed to do something I could be remembered for when I sit on this throne. I turned Oldtown into a second Harrenhal.” The wicked smile is not leaving his face.

Before Otto could even reply, Y/n had gestured for Daemon to put on his sword to the Hand’s neck. And with one hand gesture, Daemon slit Otto’s throat.

“Tell servants to clean up the mess. Take Aegon and Aemond to the maester to get treated, I have other things I must see to.” Was all Y/n said as he left the room.

Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at each other before nodding, they would go back to Dragonstone to prepare for everything else.

Seven days passed before Y/n Targaryen was officially crowned as the ruler of Westeros and of the Seven Kingdoms as a whole, they found a septon that had remained in King’s Landing to host it. Daemon may or may not have threatened him a bunch of times.

During the coronation, Y/n’s family all stood to the side. His half-siblings on one, while Rhaenyra and Daemon and his nephews stood to the other.

“Y/n Targaryen, First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

With that, the conqueror’s crown was placed on his head. Looking to the crowd as he unsheathed Blackfyre. The crowd cheered for him as they saw the rise of their new king. Daemon was now his hand and so was Rhaenyra, it was the only time in Targaryen history that a single king had two hand of the king.

Aegon and Aemond were given places in court as Masters of Whispers, Helaena became Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting, Daeron was with his brothers but he became a personal guard to court. To Y/n, they were still family and in their youth they had been friends at one point.

Alicent. She was basically on house arrest as she was not allowed to leave the Keep. Her children took care of her as she grew older.

Y/n never did marry. He refused to have children, and as he was crowned he made it so that his sister would succeed him if he died, and Daemon would be king consort alongside her. Then, Jacereys would take after her.

Aegon and Aemond never again flew on their dragons nor did they ever pick up a sword, but they knew they were already spared from their brother’s executioner. Same with Daeron as well. All three men knew they were already far from the flames of Seiphax.

The Targaryen civil war that would be known as the dance of the dragons would go down in history, however, the final act to end the war for everyone to remember is that Prince Y/n Targaryen burnt down Oldtown and the Starry Sept beyond repair. But also, he would be remembered for ending the entire Hightower bloodline single-handedly, turning that city into a second Harrenhal.

His dragon will also be remembered as they lived beyond the king’s years.

Seiphax; the second Balerion.

Y/n Targaryen would go down in history being remembered as a king.

His title?

King Y/n ‘two-faced’ Targaryen. First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

The unpredictable king. The virgin king. The second conqueror.

But one thing was for sure.

He mended House Targaryen so they forever stood strong.

Y/n Targaryen was the true blood of Old Valyria. Just like his ancestors, he was a true Targaryen.

#reader insert #male reader #🥀mukuro’s way #male y/n #house of the dragon x male reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x male reader #house of the dragon #targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader

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lya-dustin · 2 months

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The Last Wolf of Lankiveil

Part 2 of Queen of Light, King of Darkness ft the poll thanks to @jennathearcher @lady-phasma for the idea of the were-feyd fic

Taglist: @avidreader73 @emilykaldwen @cljordan-imperium @beebeechaos @dunefandomhub

Cw: murder, blood, lycanthropy

For all his reputation as a Beast and Count of Lankiveil, Glossu Rabban had not inherited their mother’s true nature thanks to their father’s wretched human blood.

Feyd Rautha had inherited more than just Onir Rautha's name, he had inherited his lycanthropy.

A true Beast, like those who ruled Lankiveil's icy lands before the Harkonnen's hunted them to extinction.

A shame his mother had to die to keep his true nature a mystery from his beloved uncle. As his mother’s son, Feyd will make sure her death wasn’t in vain.

The universe will be ruled by the last Wolf of Lankiveil.

And for that to happen, Paul Atreides and his wife, Feyd’s own sister-in-law had to die. He’d done away with Atreides’ pet and the bastard in her belly, and you deserved a gift as magnificent as the one you gave him that morning in Arrakis.

“We were hoping you could join us for a hunt in my son’s honor.” Feyd gives no indication of what he has planned for the Muad’Dib and the wife he refuses to even touch.

It is not that difficult; his wolf form could not be sensed, and he had received enough training to hone the abilities that would have created the Kwisatz Haderach. He can hide from their visions and escape their control completely.

“I am sure my wife longs to see her sister and our nephew again. We will be there, cousin.” Paul’s eyes hold some suspicion, but their alliance has chipped away at most of it. As far as his cousin knows, Feyd is a simple man with simple pleasures. Give him something to respect in you and a weapon in his hands and he will massacre entire planets in your name.

But the young baron is a father now and his perfect little heir can’t aspire to be his uncle’s heir when his lady mother is far more deserving of the Throne.

You, his Queen of Light, his Nurbanu, deserved the universe.

There is something other about him. Something related to his violent nature and the moon.

You had heard the rumors of the lycanthropy that plagued House Rabban, but one thing was hearing stories about the wolves of Lankiveil and another one was seeing her husband leave for a hunt on a full moon and hear a wolf’s howl unlike aby you’ve ever heard.

Irulan and Paul would be visiting some village across the forest that had myths of the Kwisatz Haderach they wanted to take advantage of.

You weren’t supposed to follow, you were supposed to stay home with Murad who would turn one year old tomorrow. But you wanted to confirm your suspicions.

You arrive at the village to find it in chaos. It had been destroyed as if something ravaged it and its people. Like a one man army.

“The Wolf of Lankiveil!” they shout in fear and adoration. “The Kwisatz Haderach has been destroyed!”

Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t hate your sister. She annoyed you and stood between you and your throne, but you didn’t hate her. And while you knew this day would come, you knew you would feel terrible for murdering her.

Feyd didn’t understand that part, he didn’t have a single positive memory of his brother nor any chance to be a friend to anyone.

You find the wolf at the edge of the village and you smile at the sight of him.

Your guards beg you to keep away, fearing what would happen if the wolf carried you off.

None recognize the blue human eyes in the wolf.

Your Feyd, your husband.

You believed yourself immune to him, that his violence would keep you from ever falling in love with him, but in the end he grew on you. Like mold on rotten fruit.

“So this is where you went off to, dear husband?” you ask the man beast covered in the blood of innocents.

Come with me.

No need to tell you twice. In a fluid movement you’ve gotten on his back and he takes off at breakneck speeds.

It is thrilling, to feel the icy wind around you as you use all your abilities to remain in place. You can hear his laugh echo in yours as you ride through the woods.

Not long after the wolf begins to shift, the fur thinning, the canine body losing its structure in favor of something human like and soon you arrive to his hideout clutching his back. You must look ridiculous piggybacking a bloody and very naked Feyd.

“Did you like your gift, wife?” his black teeth still have blood from where he tore apart his victims and the red staining his snow like skin paints a beautiful picture.

“How could I not, my baron?” you kiss his bloody mouth and show how much you love his gift, how much you love him.

Your daughter ,Asena Rautha, conceived that night, is born a wolf.

Just like her father.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x oc #space!nurbanu x feyd rautha #nurbanu corrino

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 4 days

Text

Blood Sport

Feyd Rautha x Y/N - drabble part 1 - 1K WC

Part 1 (you are here!)

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

Warnings: royalty y/n, space vampires (kinda?), if you speak Latin you might know some of these words, feyd being feyd, feyd realizing you are a bad bitch, probably some other shit I should mention but honestly this one is setting the stage, its the following fics that'll need warnings lol

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Your eyes were black. It was the first thing about you that Feyd noticed. Pitch black scleras with blood red irises that seemed to glow softly. You were draped in black with different shades of red peaking throughout your dress. Yet your eyes are what captured Feyd the most. Not the long, sharp nails. Not the jars of blood your maids were taking to your quarters. Not the fact that almost everything you were wearing could become an improvised weapon. No, your sharp eyes that were unreadable to him are what drew him closer to you. You kept your head high, unyielding to his imposing presence. Neither of you did anything but stare at one another, trying to analyze what you could from one another.

“The only child of House Cruor, Princess Y/N.” said the Baron from the throne in the Great Hall.

You and Feyd kept watching each other, poised like snakes ready to strike.

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“And why should I wed some priss of a princess?” Fedy spat as he looked on at the Baron, submerged in his black sludge bath.

“You are of age and Geidi Prime needs an heir. You are the only one who can give us an heir.” he answered as he smoked out of his pipe.

“What about Rabban?” Feyd said, gesturing to his brother.

“Because I’m going to make you Emperor. And the future Emperor needs an heir.” the Baron said, dismissing his eldest nephew. “He embarrassed this house. You need to restore House Harkonnen to its full glory. Full fear. So you will marry and you will do so without quarrel.” the Baron said without room for further question.

Feyd sighed. He shouldn’t be complaining, he really shouldn’t. Emperor - he could be the most powerful man in the Emperium. And whoever he would be married to would be Empress and would fill their days with something or the other. He would never have to see you if he were the Emperor. “Fine… find me a wife worthy of being my Empress.” Feyd said to him before walking away.

And oh did he. The Baron only sought out the most savage houses. Honorable but bloodthirsty just like the Harkonnens. He has to find someone Feyd couldn’t break. And so, he found you. The sole heir to House Cruor. A planet shrouded in darkness with only a red supergiant star bathing their planet in ominous red light. House Cruor was brutal. Their battle strategies, their fearlessness, their desire for power. It was a match made in hell. Even better, House Cruor were the last of the Sanguines; a powerful race that had once practiced blood magic. Their ways were unknown to the universe, similar to the Bene Gesserit, but they were incredibly strong, incredibly alluring, and incredibly ruthless. The Baron chose well.

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Feyd’s hand twitched, going to move some hair from your face. You instantly had the ruffles of your long sleeve drawn together and pointed at his throat, your fingernails coming up to defend yourself further. The sharp ends of each ruffle coming together made for several tiny daggers pointed at him, and your nails were more like claws. He retracted his hand slowly, once it was back at his side you retracted your dress and nails as well.

“This is who you picked for me?” Feyd asked, looking at the Baron and the Reverend Mother, “She can’t even talk.” He said looking at you, unimpressed.

“SPEAK.” Reverend Mother ordered you, using the Voice.

You smiled coldly at her after a moment of deafening silence. Feyd’s breath caught in his throat, he had never seen someone be unaffected by the Voice.

“She’s some kind of monster…” you heard one of the maids whisper from the corner of the room.

Your hand shot out moving in strange, hypnotic ways. The maid had no control over herself, she walked to stand in front of you before you forced her to her knees. The blood magic Feyd had read up on briefly before you arrived, could this be it? You kept your hand down, your powers gripped every molecule of her blood, bending her to your will.

“A monster? If I am a monster I would speak more softly. Monsters are dangerous. Ill tempered.” you said before raising her up so her feet hovered just above the cold stone floor.

The maids eyes held fear, tears streaming down her face as she waited for you to do something. For the first time, Feyd saw a brief smile grace your lips. Two fangs; a much desired Sanguine feature that had faded from the genetic line slowly. Yet you were graciously bestowed with them. Your smile faded before you tossed the girl to the side dismissively. You turned your attention back to Feyd who was looking at you with a heated gaze. A hungry one.

“She can talk. When she wants to.” you said to him with venom in your tone.

All Feyd did was smirk. You weren’t weak like he expected. He was going to have so much fun figuring out how you worked. You bowed your head to the Baron and a still stunned Reverend Mother. You were already proving difficult to control. They both needed you on their side, yet Feyd wanted you on his. You moved to leave the Great Hall, all the sharp metal bits of your gown dragged along the stone floor. Your maids followed behind you swiftly.

“Already holding knives to you… this will be a prosperous marriage indeed.” chuckled the Baron as he looked at Feyd.

Feyd’s eyes remained on the corridor, watching your frame get smaller and smaller as you walked away.

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Naboo's Note:

Did someone say cliffhanger to a possible series? No? Just me... well here it is guys and gals and nonbinary pals - SPACE VAMPIRES because the only thing sexier than aliens is vampires. That's a hill i'm willing to die on. Vampires are just unmatched. ANYWAYS - I love how this started so I will try to keep up with this but this will def be continued so look out for it! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO thank you for all the support!!!

#feyd imagine #feyd x reader #feyd smut #feyd rauth harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd x you #writing #house harkonnen #feyd rautha harkonnen #harkonnen #vampire #space vampires

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

The Impossible Choice (33)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, metion of underage sex, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Even when she was a child, Alys used to have dreams about a white-haired man, arriving on a huge beast the size of a mountain to change her life. Her mother did not know what moon tea was and did not know that she could remove an unwanted child.

She was therefore born as a burden and the unpleasant result of a brief affair between her mother Lena and her father, Lord Lyonel Strong. She bore the name Rivers, like any bastard child.

For as long as she could remember she had been haunted by dreams and visions which, as it turned out later, were reflected in the future. She saw a sheep with its throat cut in a dream, and the next day she found her mother, lying on her bed with her veins cut − from then on, she managed on her own.

She was always told by the men around her that she was beautiful, that she had gorgeous hair and eyes − she decided to take advantage of this. She lost her maidenhood at the age of thirteen with a guard who smelled of sweat and alcohol.

She remembered feeling immense pain and discomfort − she tightened her lips so she wouldn't start screaming. Afterwards, he gave her some coins and the bread that he had received for meal.

Her father used to send her some coins, but not enough. When he found out how she was making money, he forbade her to do so, putting her under the authority of the maester.

He began taking her to fields full of grasses and herbs, telling her about their properties and what could be made from them.

Alys then thought that health was a supreme value and if she learned the secrets of herbalism and disease, she would be a person who could not be disposed of or killed.

She would be indispensable.

She was not wrong.

She was never wrong.

When her father died in the flames, she felt nothing. She didn't regard him as a father, but more as her protector whom she served.

She knew that he was ashamed of her existence.

After his son, her half-brother Larys Strong took over, she knew that she had to act quickly. She saw blood in her dream, a rose bush without flowers, full of thorns − she knew what it meant, she knew that evil would come with him.

She avoided him as much as she could, hiding in the shadows, wrapping his guards and fellows around her finger. She saw the way they looked at her, knew what to do, how to make them want her. She didn't impose on them, merely showing them what they could have, her gaze was enough to make sure that they couldn't forget her.

When it became apparent that she was expecting a child, she wondered whether to leave it in her womb − she finally decided to let the gods make the choice.

When she miscarried after a few months, she did not even shed a tear − she thought, however, that her breasts were full of milk that was about to go to waste.

She became a wet nurse, sizing up some gold again. Her little fortune grew slowly, her tendrils tangled around Larys like a spider web.

Still, she dreamt of the white-haired prince without an eye. She had heard of him, about Prince Aemond Targaryen − she knew that he was ten years younger than her and she knew that they were destined to meet.

She saw herself stroking her swollen abdomen and knew that this was his heir, his seed.

And then, finally, each time she heard the splash of the water, saw his body sink to the bottom of the lake along with his great dragon.

She wondered what she could do to save him, why the man who was destined for her was also destined to die like this, before he even saw their child.

She felt nothing when word reached her that Prince Aemond had officially chosen one of Lord Borros Baratheon's daughters as his wife. She thought it changed nothing.

Marriage was a dry agreement between families.

Passion was something else entirely.

She became concerned, however, when she stopped dreaming about him from that point on − she prayed about it before going to sleep, but no vision with him, neither in the sun nor in the fire ever came to her again. After a few weeks she wept in despair for the first time, understanding that something had happened, that destiny had changed.

That the gods had intervened.

Her dreams of him were replaced by another, recurring one − she saw fire consuming fields and forests, destroying houses, burning people, unstoppable and uncontrollable.

Then she saw black clouds coming, the sky trembling, and a warm, gentle rain falling on the scorched, mutilated earth, bringing relief, its scent filling her lungs.

And then the fire came to her.

It began to burn the fields where she had gathered herbs, it burned the house of the people from whom she had bought milk, it burned the grove where she had prayed, leaving only dust and ashes. They brought her along with other people to die and then she saw him.

She felt her heart begin to pound hard as she saw his eye patch − he stood in full armour, sure, cold, unfeeling, fire bursting in his heart.

She stared at him as if enchanted, and when their eyes met and she stopped in front of him she knew that he felt something.

Their shared destiny.

When she heard that he was suffering from pains related to the eye that he now no longer had, she made an ointment especially for him and carried it to him.

She knew that this was her moment.

As she stepped into his chamber a shiver went through her − she saw his cold gaze drop greedily to her breasts, felt a squeeze between her thighs at the thought that he desired her. She knew he did; she could feel the tension between them in the air.

She was never wrong.

"I have brought an ointment to apply to your eye, Your Grace. One of the guards conveyed me you were in pain." She said, looking at him with a light, sensual smile. She saw that he hesitated and did not know what to make of her words.

Finally, however, he nodded, pulling his eye patch off, watching her closely. She approached him unhurriedly, placing the jar of ointment on the table, leaning over him. She saw his gaze escape to her breasts and smiled with satisfaction, feeling that as soon as she was done they would fuck on that table.

She removed a sapphire from his eye socket, which she gently placed on the cloth that she had prepared earlier. She put the ointment on her finger and began to spread it over his eye socket, glancing at it carefully, so as not to miss any wound.

She sensed, however, that something was wrong − he looked away from her and stared somewhere to the side, thoughtful, his eye red.

His thoughts had left her, but she didn't know where or why.

She pressed her lips together at the thought, feeling pain and a squeeze in her throat.

She had waited so many years for him, and he was thinking of someone else.

When she finished, she placed her fingers gently on his hand, wanting to remind him of her presence, but he flinched suddenly as if she had snapped him out of a trance and took his hand away, glancing at her warningly, his lips tightened.

"You may leave." He said, turning his head away, not looking at her.

She felt as if he had slapped her.

However, she did not show her distress.

Over the years she had learned to mask her pain and discomfort well.

"I could give you an heir, Your Grace." She said and saw him flinch all over, glancing at her in shock.

She was the only woman who could give him what he wanted.

Fire and darkness, the passionate, aggressive dance of their bodies, the struggle and fulfilment full of screams and moans.

She could have given him a child.

He looked at her, in his gaze no longer desire but a darkness that shocked her.

"You may leave." He said with emphasis, menacingly, low, so that she felt shivers down her spine. She swallowed quietly and bowed respectfully to him.

"Your Grace." She said softly, turned and walked away, closing the door behind her.

She was furious with herself, but she could not hold back her tears as she walked down the corridor of the fortress.

She had waited for him, waited so many years, seen them together flying through the heavens on his great dragon towards the sky.

She had seen their son.

What had happened?

She circled around him like a shadow, not intending to impose on him, wanting him to come to her himself, to break.

She could see that he was in a fury, on fire, that he glanced at her sometimes with a look that could kill and bring her to fulfilment at the same time.

He knew perfectly well what she could give him and some part of him wanted it.

However, she woke one night to hear a commotion outside her door, to hear someone whining and moaning. She left her chamber, going down the stairs barefoot, and that's when she saw them.

He embraced her, pressing her against the wall as if he wanted to devour her, her hands clenched on his hair and shirt, her legs wrapped around his waist, her lips parted sweetly, eyelids clenched in pleasure, sweat on their bodies.

She saw his hips move greedily inside her, saw her body shudder with each of his brutal, helpless thrusts, saw him whisper to her, panting loudly. She sobbed and squirmed at his words until she came at last, and he with her.

After that, they sank to their knees, stroking their faces, looking at each other.

Her Prince desired another.

He craved his wife.

She returned to her chamber, feeling only emptiness.

She lay down on her bed and gazed at the starry sky, knowing that she had nothing − the only purpose of her life was to wait for his arrival.

Without him she was just Lord Strong's bastard, a whore who no one would ever marry.

The next day she rose at dawn as she did every day, slowly preparing ointment for the burned wounded, moaning and wailing outside the fortress.

She treated everyone who needed it, not refusing to help anyone.

She shuddered when she heard that someone come inside and recognised the girl who had moaned in the Prince's embrace the night before.

His wife.

She noticed, surprised that she was not wearing an attire appropriate to her position − she looked like a boy, betrayed only by the braid woven from her hair and her soft, gentle face and girlish curves under her attire. She bowed before her, her expression calm and gentle.

"My Lady. What brings you here? I did not expect your visit." She said softly, wondering what she might have wanted.

She thought she had found out that she wanted to seduce her husband and had come to threaten her.

Women often did that, especially when she shared her bed with their husbands.

As if she was the one who had sworn allegiance to them.

"I’ve heard a lot about the Witch of Harrenhal. I would like to help you treat the wounded." The girl said lightly, walking through her chamber with a happy smile, looking around curiously.

This was not the answer she had expected and she felt intrigued.

She thought that she would play her game.

"Truly? That’s an amazing coincidence. I could really use someone to help me." She muttered low with satisfaction.

It was true that there was so much work to do with the injured that she didn't know where to put her hands first.

A helper would indeed be useful to her.

She took a wooden board out of a drawer and placed some roots and herbs beside it, placing a second knife next to it. She pointed with her hand to the place opposite her, and the girl approached, apparently waiting for her instructions.

"I prepare an ointment to help burns heal faster. I use it the most, so I have to prepare a new one every morning. This white root is a weeper, cut it into small cubes and then squeeze the juice out of them into this jar." She said calmly, pointing to the jar standing beside her. She nodded and got straight to work.

"What do they call you? I wouldn’t want to address you as witch. It’s impolite." She said lightly without looking at her, squeezing the juice from the root exactly as she should.

She thought that this girl was more than intriguing.

"Alys, my Lady." She said calmly and they spoke no more to each other.

She had thought that she would now be listening to a tirade about her husband or hearing stories about women seducing someone else's men and what befell them.

Nothing of the sort happened, however.

She was aware of the effect she had on her husband and was not afraid of any other woman.

Who could be a threat to her when he wanted her so much?

They spent the rest of the day among the wounded, applying a jointly prepared ointment to their wounds. They worked at a distance − she was quicker, so she did not wait for her, the prince's wife, however, did not seem to care.

She saw that, despite her discomfort, the girl showed compassion and concern for the soldiers, chatting to them, even bestowing a smile on them at times. She saw that she was dirty from dust and blood, all sweaty, locks of her hair stuck to her face − she thought, watching her closely, that she was not pretending.

The girl who had taken everything from her seemed so innocent.

She looked away, but then looked at her again, something about her attire caught her eye.

She saw that there were deer embroidered on both sides of her bodice.

The Baratheon family crest.

Strom's End.

Strom.

She pressed her lips together, swallowing quietly − it was only then that she understood the meaning of the dreams that had tormented her for the past nine months.

She was the rain that had put out the fire.

By arriving in Harrenhal, she had saved her husband from ongoing self-destruction.

She realised with both pain and relief that she was no longer haunted by visions in which the Prince was drowning together with his dragon.

He's not going to die, she thought.

She had done what she would not.

She soothed his anger.

She lowered her gaze, painfully aware that she had lost the moment the Prince had chosen her as his wife.

Slowly the sun began to set, so she approached her and informed her that they should eat something − she did not want her to faint because of her.

She knew that she would be met with the fury of her husband.

They sat down on the grass near the fortress a short distance from the wounded, and she took out a piece of bread, cheese and smoked ham from her pack.

"Forgive me, my Lady, this is not a lordly meal. However, I did not think anyone would be joining me today." She said, ripping everything in half and handing it to her in turn. The girl looked at her surprised, her eyes bright, her face gentle.

"We are at war and people are suffering from hunger. A meal like this is perfectly adequate." She said calmly, taking a piece of bread into her mouth without hesitation and biting into it without even croaking.

She knew she must not have liked it, but her behaviour impressed her.

She did not behave like the high-born ladies that she had the opportunity to meet.

They would never eat stale bread, sitting on the dirt with her.

"I imagined you differently, my Lady." She said with amusement, lifting her curious gaze to her. She saw that the girl was confused, feeling that perhaps she was mocking her.

"Indeed?" She asked lightly, trying to hide her anxiety, and she chuckled lowly, unable to contain herself, looking away.

"Yes. Forgive me for this boldness, but you are a charming being." She said lowly, pressing her lips together and looking at her fingers, smiling under her breath.

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly, turning her head away, looking far into the woods, clearly afraid that she would see something in her eyes that she might not like. Alys smiled, seeing this.

"You don't suit this place…" She began, and she looked at her, furrowing her eyebrows charmingly. "…but the fire has called to you, and the scorched earth can breathe at last with relief under the raindrops."

The girl froze completely, her lips parted in shock − she thought, as surprised as she was, that this was not the first time she had heard those words.

"What does that mean?" She asked quietly. She reached out to her with her hand, touching her cheek with her fingers.

It was as soft as she had imagined.

"It means that your husband is not going to die." She said calmly, and then the prince's enraged voice rang out, summoning his wife back to him.

She saw how violently he grabbed her by the nape of the neck, how he pressed his forehead against hers, how his nose traveled down her cheek.

She thought, shocked, that despite the aggression and darkness that filled his heart, he was tender towards her.

He let her go at last, walking away, leaving her alone.

And then all hell broke loose.

The girl whose soft skin she had just appreciated was lying burnt by the dragon fire that she had barely managed to extinguish on her − she watched helplessly as her skin clumped with the material oozing and bleeding.

She thought she should feel the satisfaction of her never being beautiful again, but she didn't.

"My Lady, we have to get out of here, please!" She said loudly, trying to lift her up − the girl sobbed loudly, rising from her knees and they both moved towards the woods.

They fell beneath the trees, a large red dragon burning everything around them. She glanced at her burn and touched it, she screamed in pain − she pulled a bottle from her pocket and unscrewed it, handing it to her.

"Drink, it's poppy milk. It will hurt." She said quickly.

She watched in disbelief as the girl immediately emptied the entire contents, trusting her completely − then her eyes grew misty, her body settled into a half-sleep, and she set to work.

She did everything she could to help her, but her wounds must have left scars.

Her body would never be the same again, she thought, looking at her thoughtfully.

She wondered if he would still love her when he saw her like this.

He, however, when the battle was over literally threw himself at her, falling to his knees beside her.

"− is she alive? −" He breathed out, trembling all at once with madness, terror, happiness and despair. She lowered her gaze, looking at her.

"− yes −" She said quietly, grabbing her wrist, checking her pulse. She felt his hand push her away violently with such force that she fell to the grass.

"− don’t fucking touch her −" He hissed, looking at her with hatred and a murderous rage from which her throat tightened.

His expression changed instantly to one of gentleness when he grasped her cheeks in his hands, as if he became a different person.

She had never seen anything like this before in her life.

"− why is she asleep? −" He asked helplessly, and she sighed quietly, rising to sit up, massaging his shoulder.

"− her attire melted to her skin − I had to clean the tissue, so I gave her poppy milk − I applied the ointment, but she’ll still have extensive scars − the gods are watching over her − the flame flashed across the ground right next to her −" She said calmly.

He pressed his face against his wife's neck, sobbed loudly and froze like that, breathing heavily.

She rose and walked away, allowing him to be alone with her.

He called on her only once afterwards, to show him how to apply medicine to her wounds.

When she unwound the clothes for the first time and he saw how her burned skin looked, he covered his mouth with his hand, his eye red and terrified, his throat clenched. She lowered her gaze at this sight, continuing her work in silence.

When she finished, she saw that he was stroking his wife's cheek, looking at her sleeping face thoughtfully.

"I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear you. I want to be unaware of your existence. If you ever touch her again, look at her, or speak to her, I will take your eyes out, rip out your tongue and cut off your hands." He said slowly, a menace and darkness in his voice from which her throat tightened.

"You may leave."

_____

Taglist 1

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darlingofvalyria · 9 months

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Your love is pure, beautiful and true. His is mandatory, optional and a duty. Yet you stay, because that is the tragedy of giving your heart to someone whose own is already in another's. A locked stepped stalemate where none truly get what they want.

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 598 ] | King!Aegon Targaryen II x Wife!Reader | part of elle's versions.

contains— angst. emphasis on the angst, hurt/no comfort, bits of smut ; lowercase intentional + arranged marriage, mention of former targcest (marriage to helaena), dance of the dragons canon happened, mentions of major character deaths - nsfw(ish): hints of marital obligation (trying for heirs) but no full sex scene - no betas.

a/n— comment, reblog, & like at will, huns! if i hurt you, pls know it was intentional mwahahaha

you had no allusions to what you were supposed to be, to do, as the king's new wife. the simplicities are bare, even a simpleton would understand.

you are a marriage borne from the ashes of the tragedy. you are the symbol of hope and peace. your marriage is the fodder, an heir its cannon.

you had no allusions, even your mother had spared you for the pretty lies. "war has torn this country in one ways to two," she murmurs, brushing her spindly fingers over your hair, preparing you, in more ways than one, to marry a king. in a few hours, you step out of these borrowed chambers to soon become a wife. "and with it, his family. wagging tongues can say the king never truly loved the queen, but they were blood sister and brother. there is care there. he had lost her through grief and rage, with it, his sons. his heir. you are a duty he must fulfil, like so many others. do not fall yourself into illusions, lest you hurt yourself."

you are a duty, you remind yourself as you stay precisely still, ram-rod straight spine as you fight every bone in your body to flinch as your husband, no, your king, orders the beheading of a lord, a black supporter until the very end.

you are a duty, you remind yourself as you pull your knees to your chest, shuddering under the weight of your loneliness. another night without your husband, without doing your duty as it is a difficult thing for him, to be with you. to have you. to be in this marriage. his whores, his paramours— they are a reprieve from the grief that still hangs, from the guilt, the anger, and from the betrayal of your own existence (to his wife? his sister? his dead children?).

you are a duty, you remind yourself, as the alcohol inside of him spills into you, his scent, his seed; as he clutches you close, loves you, fucks you,

you are a duty, you remind yourself harshly, sobs and anger silent inside your heart, as he kisses your head, his own mind already busy with his duties, unraveling from your warmth, from the love that has blossomed from your bossom and yearning for him— as he murmurs,

"have a great day with mother, hel."

and he pauses, back to you, the realisation spilling down his spine slower than yours; his, like thick molasses. yours, like ice directed to your veins. you are blowing fjords in the winters of winterfell. he is bubbling, molten fire gargling inside a dragon's stomach.

he pauses, the silence stretches.

"my apologies, my queen," he says, voice still and calm.

"'tis alright, my king," you say back, because that is your duty. you are wife to a king, not the owner of his heart. whether that died with the woman who flung herself off a tower, in the spilled blood of his sons, or in the arms of his paramours— it doesn't matter.

yours is his, sadly. you wonder if he knows. you wonder if he cares.

it doesn't matter either way. you smile despite him not seeing. despite him leaving. the realm exists, there are duties and there is a throne. your body has concave within itself, your chin to your knee, your breath a stagger through the emptiness of tears.

you are a duty he has finished off a list for the day.

you will come up again tomorrow until a maestre confirms the existence of a babe in your stomach, as all duties do.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fic #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii angst #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii fanfiction #hotd angst #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #hotd the greens win au #hotd modern au #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ elle's versions ˚

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 4 months

Text

Fire & Blood: Chapter 24: Time is a illusion (Dark Aemond x reader oc, x aegon ii ) 18+ minors do not interact and MAJOR BOOK SPOILERS/SHOW SPOILERS ATABF reader ocish she has a name its complicated

🔷Summary: After the events of Blood and Cheese and Rook's rest, you return to your husband and your king.

🔷Author's note: MAJOR book spoilers but not all that happens is canon.

🔷Wordcount:3187 (thats short sorry)

🔷Warnings: murder, mentions of toxic relationship, slight smut and BOOK SPOILERS also childloss and child murder targaryens commiting war crimes. war being war.

It seems that the days have become shorter or the nights have become longer. That, or you don’t have a healthy idea of time anymore.

Time, in a way, has become an illusion. Days may pass, hours may go, weeks end, months follow each other closer and closer up as if entangled in a dance. But you know the truth now: No matter how quick the time goes, it remains an illusion. A lie everyone tells themselves to feel better. ‘’It will pass.’’ Your servant girl said when she was braiding your hair.

You laughed at her words. What will pass, exactly? Pain? You have become used to pain, to grief, to feeling as if someone is suffocating you while in truth that is you, and you alone hiding your emotions. Pain does not scare you. It's familiar, in a way. You hold onto it. But the idea that it will pass, that one day you’ll be left with nothing but acceptance and an empty cradle? A half-burned husband that can’t give you anymore children and you, sitting on his iron throne because he can’t get up from the bed? That is what terrifies you. That one day this rage, this pain and hurt will be nothing.

That you will be nothing.

Months have passed since you last saw Aegon. The last time you saw him awake and well was long before the battle of Rook's rest and your pregnancy. You had his child warmly nestled inside of your womb where no one could hurt it. No soul dared to touch you as Aegon’s wife, safe be for the loyalists of Rhaenyra.

And that is exactly who killed your innocent baby, Helaena on her name day. You named her after the sister Aegon and Aemond shared, perhaps to mend the wound between the two of them, or perhaps to sway their mother to your cause, but whatever reason you may have had in the beginning didn’t matter so much in the end. Before Helaena would see her first morning sun, a dagger ended her life. An assassin’s blade.

You have been called forward now, to see your husband, your king and your longlife friend Aegon who has just awoken as a miracle from his comatic state. He got injured during a battle at Rook Rest, where he and his brother, Prince Aemond slew the traitor Princess Rhaenys and killed her dragon. You were at home, of course, heavily pregnant with his child that would end in a disaster as most things do.

Every instinct tells you to run far away from both Aegon and Aemond. One had captured you in a literal cage for weeks, months perhaps. The other crowned you without your consent, made you his wife for the world to see, and made you a target. Both were boys, once perhaps. You were a girl in love, perhaps. But boys become men, and love eventually dies. That is how life has been before you, why would it be any different now?

Your husband and your king stares back at you with living eyes full of admiration and joy. It is not joy, you notice. It’s something even more heartbreaking then that. He has that look most men have, when they think their wives have squeezed out a perfect heir that will save the husband from damnation. This is what they call ‘’Pride.’’

He is proud of you.

There used to be days you could never not look at the prince, his fierce beautiful eyes, short silver locks and out of this world beauty that was indescribable with any pencil this world and the next could offer. There were moments your daylight extended by seeing his face, as in a way, it protected you from the dark.

O, how you long for such simple times.

To be a girl again, with a book in your hands, smacking a hangover Aegon when Aemond comments that you should behave yourself.

‘’My love, my Brienne.’’ The King speaks, his voice a bit raspy but hearable. You faithfully accept his left hand reaching out to squeeze your fingers but your eyes are locked to the monstrous arm where metal and skin meet one another, and where the fire of a dragon made Aegon part man, part metal. You shudder to think of the nights you will spend sleeping and waking up, suddenly feeling that cold metal arm touch you.

There is joy and kindness, and hope and brightness in his eyes. Emotions you haven’t felt in months. Emotions you aren’t sure that are real now, or ever were real. Hope for fools, perhaps. Doom for nations, for certain.

Another matter, perhaps but it does prove your suspicion as to why every single soldier, every servant and Maester, Queen Alicent and even Prince Aemond left the room when you entered.

No one, not the coldhearted Green Queen, not the Terror of the Trident, not the fierce King’s guard or the all knowing Maesters had the guts and the balls to do what is now your task. No one informed him of the passing of your child. No one. That is now your task. The task of a mourning mother, a childless Queen and a shell of the person you once were.

Cravens, all of them be damned.

Aegon forces his hands on the wood of the bed, lifting himself up to sit so he may have some dignity while addressing you. You could not care if he was in a casket or lost all his limbs he could never lose his dignity. Your love is tested for him when you see him winch in pain as the poppy milk wears off, and you are for the very first time in your life unsure if your love is strong enough to face this.

It is not that he has lost his attractiveness. But it is that constant reminder, that constant bug flying in your face showing you how much pain Aegon is in, how much suffering he endures and who you should all blame for that. This war started the moment Aegon was born and it will end with the death of her.

Aegon pretends to not be altered by his new disabilities, by his new life. He takes a deep sharp breath revealing just how much this is killing him from inside out. A man like Aegon who prided himself with his beauty, with his grace and long legs…..

How much of that light will remain now that the flame has blown out, all that remains is shadow?

In his eyes realisation starts to form and you both come silently to the conclusion that life will be unlike anything it ever was before. It will heal this wound. A new scar will appear. But how much scars can a flesh handle before it starts infecting and begins to rot?

You rub your ring and watch Aegon for a while, your mind thinking of multiple ways to start the conversation, yet they all feel as cheap little lies as you try to hold off the inevitable. You rather watch your husband pass out and sleep than him sitting here awake and in a clear state of mind aware you must deliver the news now.

He knows you won’t speak. So he does. “You look well-”

Your snort interrupts him. Your hair has begun to grey and your skin is full of scratches and wounds where you keep peeling at, until it bleeds and spreads over your skin, just to feel something. Your eyes are darkened and hollow, as a starving girl. You don’t long for food. You long for justice. “I am not.” Is your cutthroat cruel response to his simple opener.

“You are not wearing your crown.” Aegon says, pointing with two fingers to your head. You don’t have the energy to wear the damned thing. It does not help that no one does what you want anyway. You are a Queen consort, not a King born from the womb of the former Queen. You needed Aegon’s approval for everything and while he would give you the world his council would rather see you die yesterday than tomorrow.

“Without you I am no Queen.” It is true. ‘’Your men treat me like an accessory. A fun little token playing dress up. I have been in power for months since you slept and not one time has my word been considered.’’

It is like a spell has been broken and a curse has lifted on Aegon as he slowly tilts his head.

“My son. I deserve to see him.” He says. ‘’I don’t know why you didn’t bring him. I don’t know why the servants told me he was asleep and I don’t know-’’

A cold idea creeps into your mind, as a dark seed has finally taken root and begins to spread its weed over your mind. ‘’What servants?’’ You ask, faking interest.

‘’The blonde new girl.’’ The king says. ‘’It is not important.’’

You sit down on his bed, breaking the distance between the two of you. You lock your hands into his own, feeling where metal and men meet, feeling where scars are appearing and wounds are healing. You owe him the truth. “It was a girl.” You begin.

Aegon’s brows nearly become one.

“It was?” You understand he must be disappointed.

You fiercely sit up.

“Yes. I named her Helaena. I know she's not what you wanted nor needed-” Aegon shuts you up with a kiss on your mouth, missing you by a inch as he stumbles over. He smiles, genuinely and happy when kissing you a dozen times.

And yet you deserve none of it.

“My Queen, my Brienne. Where is she? I must see her.” He rambles.

“Assassins came.’ You whisper in his ear. His smile vanishes within a blink of an eye and you see him figure it out on his own. Yet he plays pretend and dumb, a way he always protected his feelings.

“They were all killed. I'm unharmed.”

You wish it were guards instead.

“Helaena was not unharmed. They killed her. I watched them kill her, Aegon.” You break down, and you break down hard. You fall from your safe haven of mind and break, shatter and crumble to ashes as you let out the one after the other horrifying sob.

“I have been so alone these last few months. Aemond barely visited me. You were asleep. And my child, who I did not even deserve for the way I resented her early on for not being a son…” Your voice dies off as gasps and cries escape your throat; your vision becomes blurry with tears. “I can't do this anymore. I lost too much. I suffered too many losses. My mother, my father and my sister. And then you and my baby. I will never-” This is not going well. You struggle to breath and the pain on your chest increases.

“You still have me.” Aegon mutters, holding you as well as he can. Yet the moment you see his melted arm, you begin to panic again.

“Aegon, can't you see? Whatever we had, whatever was growing between us: We will never have it back the way it was. I can't find myself. I am lost in a darkness where I can't seem to find light, no matter what way I turn.”

“Then let me help you-” He whispers, no begs, commands and yet wishes in the same sentence. ‘’Please, Brienne. You know I have loved you. More than I have loved everything. I would set this world on fire to see you smile, and I would snuff out every bit of light if the dark brought you comfort, my love.’’

“I don't want to find the light, Aegon. Not anymore. I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Your Queen, your lady wife and your love. You took a vow without me knowing so, but you promised to protect and honour me.’’ You tell him.

“I did.” He mutters, staring at the ring that once belonged to his father. When he finally looks up there are tears rolling down his cheeks as well.

Your plan might be cruelty. Your heart will never be pure after this. But honestly: Who cares about purity, who cares about justice, for it has become clear that this world does not. The gods keep laughing at your attempts at goodness, and you have been far too kind with the struggles they have given you. “I want you to get on Sunfyre. I want you to mobilise your army. And I want you to burn everything that even dares to blink in the direction of that whore's Castle.” You vow. At first you see him tear up. Then he silently cups his own face with his hands, crying as he doubles over on the bed, clutching you so tightly you are sure his nails are digging in his skin.

“...Aegon?” You ask.

“Sunfyre…” He begins with a heartbreaking sob. “He'll never fly again. One of his wings got ripped off his body. He'll never fly. Neither will I.” You understand the truth of this horrendous discovery. Your husband lost his beloved pet, and you just lost another great way of destroying enemies. Your husband started this war with Vhagar, Dreamfyre, and Sunfyre under his command and now only Vhagar is in state to ride to battle.

Aegon needs you. But you can’t be what he needs. Not anymore.

“I can't stay with you.” You tell him before pushing him off your body. And as a coward, you run away from him, your royal duties and the looming dread of destiny.

“Brienne! Come back…” his shouts are ignored.

You don’t come back.

—-----------------

The next time the doors open in your face, you are standing in front of Aemond Targaryen’s bedchamber. You have been here various times yet this time might be considered treason. Aemond is surprised to see you, yet lets you in. You follow him closely, shutting the door shut behind you.

Prince Aemond has never made a secret of his love for you, and you know it is burning brightly still. ‘’How was my brother?’’ He asks.

‘’As a corpse brought back to life.’’ You respond, looking at the flames in the fireplace, licking at the wood, destroying it.

Aemond crosses his arms, offended. “You don't find him attractive anymore, is that it?” You laugh. You wish it was that simple.

You sit down in his chair, ignoring the looks he gives. You are the Queen now. “I sometimes wonder how I came to think you were a clever man, so blinded you often are.”

“I watched my husband go from a healthy man to a broken soul with a metal arm in months and saw my daughter die in front of me. I wish it was as simple as not finding him attractive.’’ He still looked so beautiful. Your Aegon. Yet so broken.

You notice that Aemond has taken a seat next to you. ‘’I am sorry, Brienne. I am sorry for ignoring you. I didn’t know what to say after you lost Helaena. It all felt like nothing was good enough.’’ Such funny creatures, humans be.

‘’Anything would have been enough.’’ you confess. Anyone would be enough. Anything is always better than silence. ‘’Yet, i appreciate your honesty.’’ You reach out for his hand but he pulls away as if he burned himself.

‘’What do you want from me, my Queen? The hour is of the owl. You should not be here given our history.’’ History is such a funny thing. Only survivors will determine what is true of it.

You must feed the dragon, awake the monster and pull its reins once more.

‘’Remember when those men in the woods, tried to rape me? Remember how you burned them all? How we burned that city together?’’ You also had sex with him afterwards, good sex, one of the best times in your life with him.

You smile. ‘’I want to relive old times. I heard that the woman who calls herself queen is from the Vale. I heard it has lovely woods and delightful servants that will scream once you blaze them.’’

As if on queu, a servant appears from behind both of you, clearly clutching Aemonds sheets around her body while she makes a curtsy at you. You feel many confusing emotions. You feel shock, rage and jealousy. Yet you are married. You are happy with your husband.

Am I happy or am I surviving?

It’s the same blonde bitch that lied about your daughter being a son and being alive. You trap her easily, the sheets falling from her body. ‘’I was hoping to see you.’’ You tell her, hissing as you become a bit unhinged. She eyes you with big eyes.

‘’The Queen told me to lie! She said it would break the King’s heart to know you delivered a failure!’’ She cries for mercy.

‘’Brienne,’’ Aemond mutters. You don’t listen. ‘’I will come with you. Just let her go. I was lonely and it was a mistake and it won’t happen again.’’ You know he is lying. It will happen countless times again, and every time is one too many.

You fall back into Aemonds arms as the girl tries sneaking past you both. When she puts her clothing back on, a single sapphire falls down from her pocket. You and Aemond both watch as she becomes as red as tomato, clearly caught red handed. ‘’Y-your grace. I am so sorry. The war has been starving my family. Prince Aemond has many sapphires, I never…’’ You feel compassion grow, finally.

You feel like yourself again.

Aemond huffs. ‘’You dare try to steal from our Queen?’’ He asks advancing. You know that tone. You don’t pick up on it until it is too late, and Prince Aemond has captured the thief by his window. You can only utter a word before he pushes her outside of it, and you hear her screams as she falls to her death, her remains shattering around like an artistic painting.

Your breath is racing as Aemond advances with a smirk, cupping your face lightly as you try to become the cold queen again. He grins, giving you a soft kiss on your mouth gently bending your face so he may have another taste, and another…and another. ‘’My little bee.’’ He declares. ‘’I see you are still in there, somewhere. I will burn our enemies together with you, and in exchange you let me feel what I wanted to feel for months now. Do we have a deal, or shall I tell the king-’’ You don’t let him finish his threat before your mouth finally finds his again, your hands already tugging at his eyepatch. Aemond groans in response and picks you up by your hips, carrying you to the bed.

You watch the ceiling as the one eyed prince fucks his troubles and your own away.

And soon?

Soon you’ll destroy Rhaenyra.

The same way she destroyed you.

A/N.

I really think Brienne is projecting too much on rhaenyra and not enough on her business with aemond/aegon and whatever the heck is going on at the red keep, who keeps letting these assasins in smh.

Anyway: thank you for reading!!:)

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g-on-ef · 6 months

Text

THe heART was BuILd to BrEak

Summary: Brandon King the only male omega among a family of alphas because of his status his older twin brother Landon King is overprotective and controls everything he does

Nikolai Sokolov a true blood alpha and heir to the Russian Mafia Nikolai is dangerous murderous everything Brandon was taught to stay away from

And yet when Nikolai catch a small glimpse of the omega he becomes obsessed with him and will do anything to have him by his side including kidnapping...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: okay so I know I said I was gonna update this on Friday ie tomorrow but I couldn't wait so here is my nikobran fic and I hope you guys like it ^^

*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 1: ThE oMEga PRINCE

In a family of alphas Brandon shouldn't be surprised to have an overprotective grandfather, father, uncle, brother and cousins and yet being locked in his room on a Saturday night for the fifth time in a room continues to surprise him.

Being born in a family of Alphas can have its perks being the only male omega in a family full of alphas not so much.

Especially when that family was the King Family.

A family full of powerful individuals who rule England with an iron fist a family that is ruthless and will do anything to stay on top.

Whether it's murder, kidnapping, extortion, there was nothing the King Family would do to stay on top.

They will also make sure to get rid of anyone that threaten their family especially their only male omega family member.

Locking him away so he wouldn't go to a party Ava Nash invited him to was a sure to keep him from interacting with alphas that wanted to get in his pants.

Brandon groan as he laid on his bed and stared at his ceiling.

When Ava invited him to a party he was excited to go he never been to one {seriously he's 23 and he has yet to be at a party} and knowing he was going made him feel giddy inside unfortunately Landon caught wiff of it and found out that the party was being held at some mansion that was own by some alphas known as the Heathens Landon not only put a stop to it but almost torn Ava a new one.

If it wasn't for Eli {Ava's mate} stopping him Landon would have done some serious damage to Ava's self esteem and no one needed to see her cry and get drunk off her ass because she couldn't handle being called out on her bullshit.

Brandon hated this, he hated that the only reason Landon was overprotective was because he saw Brandon as something that was weak and fragile.

At first Brandon thought Landon only saw him as spare parts something he could easily dispose of but than...Landon showed his true colors, showed Brandon that Landon genuinely loved the omega and refused to let anyone hurt him...their parents included.

It's why he tried to not get to angry with him whenever he used his alpha command on him {which he hated} and tried to see his point of view.

A small ping caught his attention.

Brandon grabbed his phone and saw he had a message...from Jayden.

The omega blushed a little ever since they were little Brandon has had a crush on Jayden Adler the alpha was like a prince and treated Brandon as an equal.

Okay maybe not but he treated him better than Landon did.

Jayden 💖: Hey :)

Brandon smiled as he typed back

Brandon: Hi :)

Jayden 💖: what are you doing?

Brandon: stuck at home -_-

Jayden 💖: that sucks :/ wanna hang out?

Brandon stared at the message, Jayden was inviting him to hang out?

It's been a while since he went out and his family {including Landon} trusted Jayden so it wouldn't be a problem.

Smiling Brandon texted him back,

Branon: yes I'd love to ^^

Jayden 💖: awesome ! Pick you up in 10

Brandon squealed as he got off his bed and began to get ready maybe his Saturday wasn't ruined and he would get to spend it outside his home but he gets to spend it with Jayden. Nothing could ruin this day.

Little did Brandon know he shouldve stayed home he should have rejected Jaydens invitation maybe if he did he wouldn't have capture the attention of a monster...one that will gladly do anything to keep him by his side...

A/N: well love it hate it tell me what you guys think ^^

#nikobran #the heart was built to break #nikolai sokolov #brandon king #nikolai x brandon #brandon x nikolai #fanfic #my writing

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ddarker-dreams · 4 months

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HWR question!!!! I’m curious what the dynamic was between Victor Avalor and Anastasia’s mom when HWR reader was growing up. Was it an arranged marriage situation? Did they genuinely love or at least like each other? Maybe it was one sided??! I must know 🙏

blessed anon ,, i'm grateful for the chance to talk about victor and dinara. their dynamic goes on to majorly influence the type of people estella, HWR reader, and become. for better or for worse. mostly the latter. i intended to reveal more about their history in bloodlines, but since that series is on a hiatus, i'll go into it here.

for some background: victor was the second son of leonid avalor, the obdurate patriarch who shaped much of survosia's future. leonid focused his attention on his first son, who, by birthright, would be leonid's true heir. victor silently simmered in resentment during his early years. he had a keen mind for business, politics, and management. what he lacked was charisma, an area his brother excelled at.

he was able to stomach perpetually living in his brother's shadow until he met dinara in his early 20s. dinara was a singer of recent renown. she accrued notoriety following the release of a single, and at the height of her popularity, was a household name throughout the country. she performed at a soirée victor happened to be attending. her velvety voice, beauty, and demure personality had him enamored. he chased every opportunity to interact with her. she took kindly to his affections. the only person within her entourage who discouraged the relationship was her bodyguard, xue ya, who left meteor city in search of a better life overseas.

leonid refused to endorse their relationship, much less a marriage. it was at that point victor realized what he subconsciously knew all along. if he ever wanted his ambitions fully realized, he'd need to be the only living person holding the avalor name. no one would hold any authority over him.

and so a 'terrible tragedy' was orchestrated that eliminated his father, mother, and eldest brother from the picture.

dinara continued to discount xue ya's warnings. getting involved with the avalor family meant entering a life she wasn't raised for. she wasn't a fighter and didn't have a strong constitution to begin with. she didn't learn this until much later, but it's possible for those who have corrupted blood, even in an inactive state, to suffer the harmful effects. a strong affinity for nen helps prevent this slow bodily deterioration. when dinara used her hatsu, she lacked the mastery necessary to simultaneously suppress corruption and maintain her aura.

their marriage wasn't perfect. dinara couldn't have possibly fathomed the full extent of the avalor family's malfeasance. spying, subterfuge, blackmail, racketeering, murder; the list went on and on. the six major families were always locked in a power struggle. victor managed to claw his way up over a mountain of corpses. still, he never did his wife harm, but didn't make an effort to hide his immorality either. especially when it came to his designs for their children. the first born would be raised to win the hearts of the nation; the family's face. a star that shines blindingly bright. and in its shadow would be the second born, the family’s executioner, who’d dirty their hands.

instead of stoking tension between them as his parents had, victor wanted to instill an unshakeable bond between the two. the birth of their third child — ash — was actually unplanned. hence ash being less involved in the family’s affairs.

in short, they did love one another, although there were times they wish they didn’t.

#hell within reach #answered #Anonymous

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nocasdatsgay · 5 months

Text

The Price You Pay For Power Ch. 1

An ACOSF AU Neris Fanfic

Summary: Eris revises his bargain with Rhysand: Nesta for Autumn Healers. He agrees and Nesta is sent to Autumn under the guise as Eris’s new bride in order to assist with removing Beron for good. Now she has to navigate a new court and also decide just how much she will trust her new husband.

Author’s Note: I did it. I started it. CWs are posted under the read more. Full list on AO3; more will be added as story progresses as needed.

AO3 Link | Master Post | Ch. 1 Under Read Below

CW: Brief Flashback to a Vanserra Brother’s birth and Lady of Autumn’s (basically) C-Section.

*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rhysand’s patience was already at its limit when Eris walked into the office down in Hewn City. An impromptu meeting, requesting only Rhys’s presence. He didn’t hide his annoyance at the Autumn Heir while those amber eyes raked over him.

“You look awful,” Eris flung his hair back over his shoulder with a quick turn of his head. He sat in the first chair closest to the door.

“I don’t have time for your smart mouth,” Rhys growled. “Cut the bullshit and tell me what you want. Or get out.”

“I think it’s time to take out my father.” Eris replied, back straightened and staring at Rhys. “He’s been visiting the continent more. With his alliance to that human crone, things are about to get very complicated.”

“We already have a bargain.”

“And I’m calling it. I want Nesta.”

Night fell off of Rhys as his anger mounted. “No.”

“Just until my father is dead.” His eyes rolled and leaned on the arm of his chair. “So dramatic. We smuggle her in under the guise that she accepted my proposal. She helped kill the King of Hybern, she can help kill Beron. She will be safe, my father is terrified of her.”

“No.”

Eris studied him. “I’ll give you anything you ask.”

“You have nothing I want.”

“Not even, say, skilled healers?”

Time stood still for a moment. Rhys knew he gave himself away with silence. But there was no possible way for Eris to know. No one knew but the inner circle.

“Why would I need healers?”

“You’re not as discreet as you think you are.” Eris smiled wickedly. “There’s something wrong with the babe in your mate’s womb.”

In a blink Rhys was across the table, yanking Eris from his chair by his neck. Darkness filled the room while he held him by his throat against the wall.

“What do you know?” He said through gritted teeth.

“You’ve been searching Prythian for anything and everything to do with birthing children with wings.” Eris didn’t bother to pull at Rhys’s hold. He choked out, “our healers can perform the process to remove the babe safely that you’re looking for.”

Rhys’s eyes were fully black, his grip tightened. “How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“Put me down and I’ll show you.”

Rhysand debated snapping his neck. But a part of him wanted to see. If he could save Feyre- he dropped his hold, letting Eris sputter and cough.

“Show me. Now.”

Rhysand reached into Eris’s mind and clawed hard at the wall. In a moment he was let in.

“The babe is stuck,” a healer- Edith, Eris’s mind supplied, said.

She pulled out her bag and through Eris’s eyes he heard him say, “you can’t.”

“I know what I’m doing boy. Stand back and let me save your mother.”

It was indeed the Lady of Autumn lying on the bed, pale and unconscious. Eris’s mind supplied that the babe stuck was the second youngest son, Leon. His twin had been born without issue but he was not head down. She had also started bleeding profusely. One of the other healers handed Eris his wailing brother.

“Why were you there?” Rhysand asked.

“They called for my father but he couldn’t be bothered.” Eris replied. “Keep watching.”

While Eris held his brother, Edith shook the lady awake. She forced her to down two potions. One was for pain, the other for blood loss. The other healer ripped open part of her gown, baring her rounded stomach. Rhys held his breath while he watched them cut her open carefully and extract the baby. More wails filled the room and Eris had put his other brother in a cradle to be handed the second bloody babe. Rhys nearly fell to his knees. They worked quickly, patching up the wound and pouring a tonic on her stomach to seal it. The lady was awake but showed no signs of pain.

She looked at Eris. “Let me see my babies.”

Rhys pulled out of his mind, nearly stumbling. Eris only watched him, waiting.

“You’ll swear them to secrecy.” He felt like his breath was getting away from him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “We will make another bargain. Nesta will help you kill your father under the guise of accepting your proposal. In return, your healers will look after Feyre.”

“I know my father and he will push for a real marriage. I will delay it as much as possible but if I cannot, I will annul it but only at her request.”

“You will annul it,” Rhys growled out. “Whether she requests it or not.”

“You never know,” a ghost of a smile graced his lips. “She may like being married to me. Better than that oaf of a general.”

Night started to pour from Rhys again. “Stop testing my patience.”

“Fine,” Eris held out his hand. “We have another agreement.”

Rhys gripped his hand tight and magic washed over them both. He felt the tattoo from the previous bargain change.

Eris pulled his hand back first. “I want her to be brought here tomorrow. I will come and retrieve her.”

“I’ll bring her to the palace. Now get out of my sight.” Rhys said, throwing out his hand in dismissal.

The moment he felt Eris leave, Rhys sat at his desk and wept. Part of him felt it was too good to be true if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. He could finally save his mate and his baby. He just had to break the news to his brother what it cost him.

—

Nesta didn’t know what to expect when she was summoned to one of the study’s in the house of wind. When she went to leave the library, Clotho had a message for her to meet Rhys in the far end study. She steeled herself before entering, not bothering to knock.

The room was small, just a bookshelf to the right and a few plush red chairs near a window. The only tables were small side tables. A rust oval rug laid on the floor. She stood in the middle of it.

Rhysand was sitting in the left chair and did not look at her when she entered. He had his leg crossed over his knee and a stack of papers in his lap. She almost cleared her throat to get his attention but he finally spoke, still not looking up.

“Nesta.”

“Rhys. You summoned me?” She crossed her arms across her chest.

“I did.” Rhysand did not look her in the eye. He sat his papers on the side table and moved his leg. He put his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. “I’ll get to the point. I need you to accept Eris’s proposal.”

“Excuse me?”

When Nesta danced with Eris in Hewn City, she knew of his proposal. She even debated accepting it on her own. But to be told she didn’t have a choice?

“You will marry Eris.” He acted as if she had not protested. “You will help him obtain the throne with your powers.”

A flash of anger rolled through Nesta. “You cannot ask that of me.”

“I can and I will.” He said coldly. He still did not look her in the eyes. “There is no debate this time.”

“What about Cassian?” She narrowed her gaze at him. Cassian was his brother. He cared about him more than her.

“Cassian will get over it.” Nesta felt like she had been struck. Rhysand finally looked up at her, tears in his hardened eyes. “It’s to save Feyre, Nesta. Eris has promised me healers in exchange for your hand and aid. Healers who have dealt with difficult births before.”

“How do you know he isn’t lying?” Her breath quickened and the feeling of betrayal washed over her. Her arms fell to her side.

“I’ve seen it. With my own eyes. They extracted a babe from a female and they both lived. Feyre and the baby will live, Nesta. All you have to do is be selfless for once in your life.”

“After the baby is born? Can I come home?” Rhysand did not answer her. “What are you going to tell Cassian?”

“I’ve already told him.”

Nesta shook her head. “He would never allow this.”

“Go ask him yourself.” Rhysand’s stare turned colder. “He agreed to save Feyre. You’ll be sent to Autumn tomorrow. I suggest you pack your things.”

“I will not go.”

“You will,” night flared around him, his violet eyes flashing. Then he reigned it in and leaned back in his chair. “You’re dismissed, Nesta.”

“I want to speak to my sister.” A last ditch effort on her end. “Feyre won’t allow this.”

“You will not say a word of this arrangement to Feyre,” Rhysand’s voice was laced with a command that washed over her. “You will not give her added stress.”

Angry tears welled in her eyes but she held her chin up. Fine, she thought. She would find Cassian. He would make Rhys see reason. Chin still high, she turned and left the study. She went to the kitchen and found Cassian sitting at the table, head in his hand. When she entered, Cassian glanced over at her before looking down at the ground.

“He told you?”

“Cassian, you can’t allow this!” He refused to look at her. “Cassian!”

“It’s to save Feyre and the baby, Nes,” his voice soft, almost a whisper. He still wouldn’t look at her.

“There are other ways,” tears filled her eyes again.

He shook his head. “The agreement has been made. Rhys gave an order.”

“Then fight it.” Fight for me, she wanted to add. He remained silent. “You’ll allow him to marry me to a monster because of an order?”

“I trust Rhys,” Cassian finally looked her in the eyes, his gaze hardened. “It’s to save your sister, the baby, and Rhys.”

“What about me?” She yelled, pointing her own finger at her chest.

“Not everything is about you, Nesta. This is life or death. Do you not care if Feyre dies?”

Something snapped inside her. It was possible the disbelief that he thought this plan would work. It was partly because after everything- after she opened herself up to him, he so easily tossed her aside for Rhys. Tossed her to the wolves because his High Lord said so. If he would harden his heart like this, then so would she. She steeled her features and stiffened her back, holding her head up high.

“You’re right. I’ll go pack my things.”

Each step as she turned and walked out of the room, she chanted in her mind for him to chase her. To change his mind. To prove her wrong. To choose her. She reached her room and when he did not follow, she shut the door and locked it. She willed the house to not allow him in, not that he would try. She barely made it to the bed before collapsing in a sob.

Next Chapter

#the price you pay for power #Neris #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acosf rewrite #nesta acotar #Chapter 1 #I told y’all you wouldn’t like what i had to do to get her out #I hope y’all like it y’all really hyped this up

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horizon-verizon · 3 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/iscend-phines/751334706465947648/bookdaemon-would-never-he-was-a-somehow-worse?source=share

Daemon is not a pedophile or a groomer in Fire and Blood. You have to review your definitions after a while.

And sorry, but the fact that there was domestic violence in the feudal era in no way justifies adding it into a series that adapts source material already rife with violence against women in the first place, including for the affected character of Rhaenyea.

Why add domestic violence when there isn't any in the source material ? What's the point ?

GRRM has already written about other relationships with domestic violence. So why add domestic violence where there was none AKA Daemyra ?! What's the fucking point ?! Not to mention that Rhaenyra already experiences various realistic violence in her own story. No need to add domestic violence to all that if it doesn't serve the story.

And I remind you that not all men, even in feudal times, were necessarily violent with their wives. Throughout history, good men and their wives have always existed.

So the excuse of “realism” to justify the fact that Daemon is violent with Rhaenyra they can kick it in the ass.

GRRM has written stories of domestic abuse before. Do you want to read this ? Well go read that. Or did the producers want to adapt that ? Well they just had to adapt another GRRM story ! Same if they wanted romance between girls ! GRRM wrote about it ! No need to invent Rhaenicent !

And yes, the show is trying to make Alicent look better ! Alicent wasn't a victim in the book, and she wasn't that young. What do you call it other than trying to make his character more likable for the audience ?!

And no, the producers don't understand anything about what they are adapting. They're not even able to admit that the entire central conflict is based on pure misogyny and tries to send the message that not everyone, including Rhaenyra, is apparently evil. That's not what dance is about. So sorry, but yes, if you are not capable of understanding the basic message of a work, then you do not understand anything about it in its entirety either.

Alicent stans disgust me deeply.

Crazy thing is that they could have made Alicent have a line of relatibility by just fully acknowledging that Dance was about misogyny instead of just about "the two sides are bad, full stop, no one is the aggressor to each other but rather both are to the realm".

How? They could have given us a backstory of Alicent as a normal noble girl with very strict, sexist father ands brothers, dead mom, and her quietly hoping to gain some prestige and power on her own. growing jealous of Rhaenyra being "handed" power or confidence or an "opportunity" after having married Viserys and become her stepmother. Show a pattern of this sort of jealousy. Instead it's this too-sheltered girl who doesn't know how to manipulate people or even try to to get them to do what she wants. How cunt would that have been?

As for Daemon, I think that, yes, why bother including a horrible thing that doesn't exist in canon?

P.S. I mean, the show makes it clear that Rhaenyra's doubted bc misogyny, but it doesn't really hit bc they can be more blatant with it. Felt too polite for a medievalesque world where a girl is finally heir.

#asoiaf asks to me #daemon targaryen #daemon's characterization #fire and blood characters #hotd characterization #alicent stans #asoiaf gender violence #alicent's characterization

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dreamerwithapen1 · 2 months

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For The Realm + Season 2

Battle is all that Aeron Targaryen has ever known. His entire life has been devoted to the defense and protection of his family and his kingdom, and he expects that he will one day die for it as well. He just never imagined that that day might come so soon- and that it would be his own family that he’d be fighting. But he will not falter. He will cut through them as he had with everyone else that had ever stood against him, and he will not stop until his kingdom is safe and under control of its rightful ruler once more- no matter the cost.

Targaryens are closer to gods than to men. Her brother would tell her otherwise, but Aelora Targaryen knew it in her bones to be true. The dragon’s blood set them apart and raised them up. They were made to conquer and to rule, and she will let no one take that away from them, least of all Alicent Hightower and her family. With the support that she and Aeron have slowly accumulated over the years, she will march against the usurper and strip him of all that he holds dear until all that remains are his ash and bones.

Having relinquished his title as heir of Winterfell and married into the volatile Targaryen family, Edric Stark finds himself thrust into a war that he fears will tear the realm apart. On the orders of Queen Rhaenyra, he, along with the young Prince Jacaerys, travel to the North in the hopes of gaining the support of Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell- and Edric's younger brother. Though their parting many years ago was tense and full of anger, Edric is willing to do whatever it takes to mend their relationship, for he knows that with the North standing behind them, no one could stand against them.

While content in her new life with Daemon and their daughter, Vesta, on Dragonstone, Edith Hightower can't deny the part of her that she left in King's Landing with her daughter, Eda- a feeling that only gets stronger as the war continues to grow more brutal and bloody. But despite her conflicted emotions, she doesn't let it stop her from calling on old oaths and blood ties in order to further strengthen Rhaenyra's claim on the throne. And she can only pray that the choices she has made don't bring about horrific consequences for the daughter that she left behind.

Forever Tag: @darknightfrombeyond @arrthurpendragon @foxesandmagic @bravelittleflower @darkwolf76 @stareyedplanet @thophil2941btw

For The Realm Tag: @misskatiewrites @acegirlsjustwannahavefun @theskyisbrighthere @stargaryenx @roguephoenix1

#ocappreciation #fyeahhotdocs #fic: for the realm #ch: aeron targaryen #ch: aelora targaryen #ch: edric stark #ch: edith hightower #hotd oc #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon oc #house of the dragon fanfic #oc x oc #daemon targaryen x oc

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jadeyarts · 7 months

Photo

you know what Novelmore fans need? headcanons about the main characters’ absent parents, obviously. so here we go.

Arwynn’s mother, Queen Llewella:

since John is an English name but Arwynn is a Welsh name I decided that clearly Arwynn’s mother needed a Welsh name too.

late wife of King John, she died about a decade ago. Arwynn’s memories of her are fuzzy, but he resembles her in a lot of ways.

John had lighter blond hair than Arwynn, so I thought it would make sense for Llewella to be a strawberry blonde.

I haven’t decided how I think John and Llewella would have gotten together - it was either an arranged marriage that worked out well enough for them, or he had some kind of dramatic Married A Peasant For Love arc decades ago.

Brody’s mother, Captain Barabal:

Brody is a Scottish name, but Bayron is ... apparently the Spanish form of an English name? so mom gets a Scottish name!

his birth was a strategic political arrangement - his mother is loyal to Lord Bayron, but the two were never married. he was born out of wedlock and is only tolerated as much as he is by virtue of being of noble blood and the only heir to the throne.

since Brody’s description on the playmobil site said he’d been travelling between kingdoms before the plot begins, I thought it’d be fun if his mom was a privateer and he was on her crew. he doesn’t receive parental affection from her, but she does pay him more respect than Bayron does - she doesnt treat him like a son, but recognizes that he could potentially become her future boss so she’s more strategic in how she treats him. mostly she tries to keep him busy and out of her hair.

Gwynn’s parents, Geoffrey and Bronwen Greystone:

in the show Gwynn’s uncle is named Bran while the figure of her uncle in the toyline is named Geoffrey. these are based on the show, so I’m using Geoffrey as the name of her dad.

uncle Bran is credited as Lord Greystone so that means he should be Geoffrey’s brother? but since Bran is a Welsh name while Geoffrey is a French name that was converted to English, I like the idea that theyre from two different cultural backgrounds + Bran is Gwynn’s maternal uncle. so mom gets a Welsh name :P

anyways Geoffrey is probably still alive, just living out in the wilderness. I get the feeling that Bronwen is... Not alive, though. Gwynn seems like someone who was heavily influenced by being raised as a woman without a female role model of any kind.

won’t lie to you - I based Bronwen on Snow White (iirc Gwynn means white) while I based Geoffrey on the Huntsman. not for any reason other than I felt allusions to either or both would fit Gwynn, in particular - its just to tie them to her, thematically! :P

Dario’s parents, Ser Claudio and Monna Annabella da Vanci:

Obviously the character with an Italian name, based on an Italian historical figure, is going to have parents with Italian names.

This means that Dario’s full name is actually Dario di ser Claudio da Vanci (meaning “Dario, son of Claudio from Vanci”)

Claudio, naturally, was the son of Dario the first - while he was a talented engineer and inventor like his father before him, he was more passionate about sculpting. He became well-renown for his sculptures, and was often commissioned by King John.

since Dario II is the last of the da Vanci family, we know that Claudio and Annabella must both be dead - or at least Claudio is. Annabella theoretically could still be alive, but likely would have remarried into a different family and become a little distant if so.

Claudio’s design is based on paintings of Leonardo da Vinci, somewhat, while Annabella’s design is based on the Mona Lisa.

Faylinn’s parents, Archer and Nadiye Fletcher:

uh... the thing is, Faylinn isn’t a name I can find previously documented use of, but there are the similar names Faelin, Faelynn, and Faylene. All English. so dad gets an English name. but Faylinn's outfit seems to take inspiration from a different culture, and to me it resembles Ottoman-era Turkish traditional clothing. so her mom gets a Turkish name.

currently thinking Nadiye was a merchant from a small community at the edge of Sal’ahari Sands. she traveled to Novelmore to sell her wares, until she settled down with Archer. she still sells homemade textiles and pottery, but no longer needs to travel such long distances to make a living.

Archer, obviously, being an archer. Faylinn was likely taught how to use a bow and arrow by her dad, given the circumstances...

#sketch #playmobil #novelmore

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bvidzsoo · 1 year

Text

Pure-blooded (Part 2)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: the use of the word ‘bastard’, nothing else so far

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x oc

Word count: 8997

Summary: A story about a girl called Vaella Velaryon, who after more than six years, returns to King's Landing due to her brother, Luke, being questioned about his right as heir of Driftmark, and she meets Aemond. A changed man. A vicious man who is set to have his revenge, unknowing that Vaella would do anything for her family.

A/N: well, well, well...I outdid myself on this one, this part wasn’t supposed to exist, but my bestie asked me to write of the siblings bonding time so uhm- this part happened. Next part will have some violence, so get ready for that, and also I will only post it next week because this week will be busy for me. If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! I hope you enjoy this part and don’t be shy, share your thoughts with me, I love reading them! Happy reading now!

Taglist: @depressedperson88

↳Previous Part

The siblings had made a ruckus in the kitchen of the Red Keep as Vaella and Luke ran around, clumsily each grabbing a bowl to fill with the snacks they stole. Jace remained in the doorway, holding the door open for his siblings, as they avoided crashing into anyone and tried to escape the chef’s angry hands trying to grab at them. Vaella was laughing loudly as a servant tried to grab at her, but she swiftly ducked and slid towards the door, shouting at Jace to open it wider as Luke came running behind her with a scared expression as he was being chased by a very angry chef, who was holding their butcher knife. Once the siblings were out in the hallway, their blood cursing with adrenaline, they glanced at each other before running for the dragon pit to mount their dragons with all the snack they had. They were loud as they dodged everyone in their way, not even bothering to apologize when they ran into a lady and almost made her topple over. They didn’t care about the judgmental looks from those who recognized who the they were, their only goal was to get to their dragons before their parents would be alerted of their mischievous deeds. Back at Dragonstone, the servants and chefs, stopped saying anything to their parents after a while as they realized the children only did this to break free from their crushing roles and earn a little freedom over their actions. Of course, Vaella was the one who initiated this little tradition of theirs, and as Jace and Luke were really young when she convinced them to join her, they absolutely loved the idea, and begged their sister from then on to steal snacks and ride their dragons to the island twice every week.

They arrived to the dragon pit quite quickly as they were running, weaving through the people with laughter escaping their lips. There, they tried to catch their breaths before searching for their dragons. A big grin broke out onto Vaella’s lips when she spotted Silverwing and she rushed up to him, petting its scales around his neck. Her dragon let out a low grumble of appreciation and allowed Vaella to mount him. She secured the bowl between herself and the edge of the saddle and instructed Silverwing to walk outside and then take its flight. The take-off was always a bit shaky and harsh for the two of them, but after a while, Vaella got used to it and learned to brace herself tightly against her dragon’s saddle. She almost flew off once, a long time ago, when she was just a little girl. As her dragon rose towards the white clouds, Vaella looked down and admired the people and constructions getting smaller and smaller. When she arrived to King’s Landing she didn’t have the opportunity to admire the landscape as she was full of fury and was only concentrating on landing as fast as possible at the Red Keep. But now, she allowed herself to relax on Silverwing as she straightened her back and gazed around her, waiting for her brothers to show up. And soon, one by one, Luke on Arrax and Jace on Vermax, they appeared on Vaella’s sides, keeping a safe distance between their respective dragons. Vaella grinned and waved at her brothers, who did the same, and motioned for them to follow her. She had the route to the meadow engraved in her memory and couldn’t wait to get there. She had missed it. Silverwing rose higher up in the sky, letting out a loud screech as he realized too which way they were going. Vaella smiled and patted the dragon’s scales, muttering to him ‘Sȳz valonqar’ (good boy). Her brothers were hot on her tail, and she heard laughter from behind as Luke’s dragon playfully flew over and then underneath Jace’s, playing with Vermax in the air. Jace laughed as well, but kept Vermax focused on following Silverwing as he promised his dragon that he could play with Arrax once they have landed. Silverwing suddenly changed direction and started plunging towards the earth, the wind hitting Vaella’s face harshly, but she was used to it. Silverwing enjoyed plunging towards the earth when he had to land, despite scaring his rider to death more than once before. Vaella hated it at first, and realized her dragon was only doing it because he could feel her fear through their bond, and so kept on doing it, until they both became used to it and started genuinely enjoying it. Arrax and Vermax followed Silverwing closely, however, they were careful in their descend as Jace and Luke watched their sister horrified, never having seen Silverwing do this before. They thought he had gone mad, that is, until, he suddenly opened his wings and started graciously floating towards the earth. Luke cradled his own bowl close to his chest as Arrax let out a shriek, landing first in the meadow. Its tail brought a few trees down, making the earth rumble, as Silverwing and Vermax followed suit in landing, but somewhere where there were no trees. Vaella started laughing as she watched her brother approach them with an embarrassed expression, and Jace wasted no time in starting to tease him.

“Look at you!” He exclaimed, jumping off his dragon and running up to Luke, “Eager to land first, eh? That is what happens when you get greedy—”

“I was not being greedy.” Luke snapped, and shot Jace a glare when his big brother tried to ruffle his hair, “And help Vaella down, her hands are full.”

Vaella chuckled as her brothers turned to look at her, making Jace take off towards her, to take the bowl full of snacks from her hands. Vaella carefully got off from her dragon, who helped her with its wings.

“Nyke jāhor ivestragī ao klios tolī īlon tegon rȳ se mele lua.” (I will let you fish after we land at the Red Keep.) Vaella whispered to her dragon before turning to smile at her brothers, “The meadow is all ours!”

The two boys cheered as they started running around, the tall grass reaching their knees in some areas. Vaella watched them with a small smile on her lips as she let her hands run along the grass, feeling finally content and at ease. Being back at King’s Landing brought back many pleasant and unpleasant memories. She didn’t feel safe here. She was exposed to the family who wanted her head and her mother’s, and because of this, she had to be on high alert all the time. She was used to this as she is a soldier, but even they get tired after a while. It was mentally draining to her, and all she wished for was for the trial to be over, with Luke’s heritage being reinforced, and her returning to Dragonstone before flying off to Pentos. She hadn’t been home in over a moon, which felt like an eternity to her. She wished to spend some time with her mother, possibly be there for her when she’d give birth to her baby sister.

“Did you seriously not grab even one bar of chocolate, Luke?!” Vaella was brought out of her thoughts by Jace’s loud voice. The two brothers had plopped down onto the ground where the grass didn’t reach their knees, with hopes that it wouldn’t poke their eyes out.

“I wasn’t really looking at what I was taking, Jace—have you seen the chef chasing me with a butcher knife?!” Luke exclaimed outraged, making Vaella chuckle as she sat herself on the ground, looking at her two brothers with amusement on her face.

“I managed to grab some—” Vaella’s lips curled up in amusement as she leaned forward her own bowl, trying not to laugh, “peas. That can be a very healthy snack—”

Jace’s loud groan cut Vaella off and she rolled her eyes, grabbing a pea and throwing it at her ungrateful brother, “Luke is right, we didn’t have the opportunity to look at what we were taking, really. Those people were chasing us as if we were some animals.”

Luke started nodding with a pointed look at Jace as he started munching on some biscuits. They still managed to grab some good snacks, which weren’t peas, and Jace sighed, finally settling on a banana. Vaella had grabbed it by accident while aiming to take the chocolate bar, but the servant yelling at her had distracted her.

“Tell me, brother…” Vaella trailed off with a mischievous look on her face as she eased her hand inside the pocket of her pants, “Were you craving some chocolate?”

Jace’s face lit up as he forgot about the banana he was munching on and nodded his head eagerly, “Well then…have some.”

Vaella pulled her hand out of her pocket, holding two bars of chocolate. Her brothers eyes lit up as they both leaned forward, grabbing the chocolate from Vaella, as if their lives depended on it. She laughed quietly, shaking her head at them, as she grabbed Jace’s half eaten banana and took a bite of it.

“These are from Pentos?!” Luke exclaimed excited as he undid the wrapping of his chocolate. Vaella nodded her head and Jace gave her a big smile before devouring his chocolate, looking as if he had just eaten the best meal of his life.

“I had no idea you two loved chocolate so much.” Vaella scoffed as she looked at Luke, who had a little chocolate in the corner of his mouth, making Jace snicker at him.

“The chocolate you bring from Pentos is always tastier than the one the chefs make at Dragonstone.” Jace said as a matter of fact, and Vaella shook her head, glancing back at her dragon as he let out a loud sigh. Her dragon had curled up and laid on the ground, resting, as his eyes found its riders. Vaella smiled at him before looking around, seeing that Arrax and Vermax had fallen asleep, despite being in a playful mood while they flew over here. She wasn’t surprised that even their dragons felt tranquil in this little meadow. She had once fallen asleep, and if it wasn’t for the rain, she probably would’ve spent the night here, scaring her mother and father, Laenor, to death. Viserys would catch her flying away on her dragon more than once, and each time he inquired where she went, Vaella would just give him a cheeky smile before telling him that it was a secret and maybe one day she would show it to him. Now, knowing that he was sick and nearing the end of his life, she wished she could take the King here, offer him a little peace and freedom. Free from the claws of those monsters, the Hightowers.

“Sister,” Jace lightly touched her knee to get Vaella’s attention, “will you tell us of your time spent at Pentos—”

“Did you partake in another tourney?” Luke cut off his brother, eyes wide as he leaned forward. Vaella grinned at her brothers before leaning back, resting on the cold ground. She let her hands touch the grass, taking in the energies nature had to offer to her. It was so pleasant.

“Unfortunately, Luke, I could not partake in a tourney once again. They had caught onto my shenanigans, I’m afraid.” Vaella answered her brother with a chuckle, making the boy pout. Out of curiosity and boredom, Vaella would disguise herself as a man and take part in the tourneys organized in Pentos. She had skills, she was an excellent swordsman and she could ride a horse almost as well as her dragon. She would lie of her true nature, make up a name of a lord who lived in a small province close to Pentos, and thus charm all the ladies and anger all the lords and knights partaking in the event. There were times when she’d win and there were times when she’d lose. But each time she’d have ladies swooning over her by the end of the day, forcing her to reveal her true nature. The shock on their faces once she took her wig off was always amusing and it brought a sense of satisfaction to her. Rhaenyra was informed of her daughter’s questionable deeds as one of her knight’s was at Pentos during one of the tourney’s, and she couldn’t help but receive the news with laughter and a shake of her head, unsurprised of her daughter’s antics. After all, she was a younger copy of her late husband, Daemon, and she didn’t have much control over what her daughter did or didn’t while staying at Pentos. Rhaenyra trusted her that she wouldn’t do anything too stupid, thus, she wrote back to the knight, asking him to let her daughter be. Many lords egos and dignities’ had been hurt when Vaella disclosed her true self, starting small altercations, in which she gladly partook, knowing very well that no man had succeeded in defeating her. Well, besides her father, Daemon, who had taught her all of his knowledge. She had to yet defeat him; Daemon was waiting for that faithful day as well.

“Then did you partake in any adventures?” Jace asked eagerly, grabbing some peanut from Luke’s bowl. Luke and Jace were a bit disappointed that their sister had nothing funny to share connected to tourneys, they always looked forward to hearing about her tricks.

“I’m afraid not, brother,” Vaella smiled, closing her eyes as she stared up at the light blue sky, “My time spent at Pentos was rather tranquil and mild, compared to how I would usually spend my time there.”

Jace and Luke sighed in disappointment, sharing a glance, before following their sister and laying down onto the grass. Jace was a bit fidgety at first, scared of ants crawling onto him, but Luke found himself enjoying such mundane activity. He loved going to their secret little island, hearing the waves crash against the shore as he stared up at the blue clouds, but this meadow was a nice change. The quiet around them was surprisingly relaxing and he couldn’t help but relinquish in all the wild flowers around them and their scents as the breeze carried it to their noses. Luke could see himself coming here often if they were to live at the Red Keep. But he knew that would not happen anytime soon. And even if it did, that meant that his grandsire would be dead, and his mother would be Queen. He wanted that, he really did, but it made him so nervous when he realized he’d have to live here, with his uncles and their family. He knew the bad blood would never end between the two families, and it only brought a sour taste into his mouth, as he remembered the hearing would be tomorrow. Just a fool would believe the Hightowers would take their side. Luke knew, for certain, that his right as heir of Driftmark would be reneged tomorrow. He felt sad, perhaps he should’ve felt more outraged and angry, but he knew he wouldn’t be a great leader of the fleet. He tried to be brave and stand up to Ser Vaemond’s accusations, but after all, he was just a scared boy.

“I miss Ser Harwin Strong.” Luke found himself suddenly saying, lips in a tight line, as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. Jace and him weren’t stupid, they knew who their true father was. They never dared saying it out loud, because it would just prove what everyone else was accusing them of. They loved Laenor Velaryon, but Ser Harwin had done more for them, than their alleged father had. They couldn’t help it but miss Ser Harwin from time to time. Luke’s words made Jace tense up and he glanced at his younger brother, debating whether he should kick his foot or crack a joke and deviate from the subject, but Vaella beat him to it.

“I miss him too sometimes.” Vaella admitted out loud with a quiet sigh, opening her eyes to gaze at the white clouds. The sky was so beautiful today. Despite Ser Harwin not being Vaella’s father, he played an important role in her life. He protected her and kept her away from harm as a little girl and even taught her a little combat, fearing that she would have to protect herself if he weren’t to be around. As the years passed and she grew, her fondness for Ser Harwin only solidified as she saw how ferociously loyal he was to her mother and how good care he took of her brothers, and herself. On days when they had to stay inside the castle, Ser Harwin would play hide and seek with them, and sometimes, when it was late in the night and she couldn’t sleep, she would go to him and ask him to play dress up with her. Ser Harwin was quite surprised at Vaella’s request, but once agreeing to play with her, he was surprised of how much they found themselves laughing as Vaella tried to force Ser Harwin into a few of her mother’s clothes. Of course, Princess Rhaenyra started to catch on when her dresses in the morning would be misplaced or even torn in places, so she decided to follow her daughter and Ser Harwin one evening, only to find them laughing as Rhaenyra’s delicate dress only fit over Ser Harwin’s armored leg. She watched the two people with love in her eyes before turning around and returning to her chamber, content that her daughter and secret lover were so fond of each other, cradling her baby bump, as Jace was close to being born. Rhaenyra knew then and there, that Ser Harwin Strong will make a fine father.

Jace cleared his throat as he sat up, looking at his siblings with a frown. He didn’t wish to speak of Ser Harwin, finding it hard to speak of his dead father. He didn’t hold any resentment against him, but he wished Prince Laenor was his true father, then so many conflicts could’ve been avoided, “I saw uncle Aegon today, before I went to find Luke to head to the courtyard…”

Jace’s voice was loud as he trailed off and Luke winced, glancing at his brother, “Was he as cruel as Prince…Aemond?” He found it difficult saying his uncle’s name after today. He couldn’t lie, Aemond frightened him.

“I would not know,” Jace shrugged and tore a red wild flower off, “I only saw him from a distance, but apart from his obvious growth, he didn’t seem like he had changed much.”

“Why? Was he carrying a jug of wine?” Vaella mocked, as Luke started giggling before he sat up too, stretching his arms over his head. He was craving some grapes and was glad when he saw some in his sister’s bowl. Jace shook his head with an amused grin before tearing off another wild flower, a yellow one this time.

“Ye, he was holding something, ‘though I did not see what.” His answer made his siblings chuckle as they shook their heads. Apparently, Aemond was the only who had changed, and maybe Haelena, but they didn’t have the chance of meeting her yet.

“So,” Luke muttered, chewing his grapes, “Aegon seems not to have changed, but Aemond—” He shuddered as he said his uncle’s name, making Jace’s face instantly darken. He knew Prince Aemond represented a threat to them, his mere presence frightening.

“Uncle Aemond had always been a scared little boy, who would not stand up for himself, and just because his physique has changed, you shouldn’t let yourselves be intimidated by him, brothers.” Vaella’s tone was hard, and her brothers glanced at each other unsurely, before looking back at their sister.

“Yes, but—” Jace had gulped as his eyebrows furrowed, “you have seen him, Vaella. He’s—he’s looking—”

“Vicious.” Luke cut his brother’s words off, “And vile. And he hates us, sister, had you not seen the way he was looking at us? I do not think we should provoke him or anger him—”

“Oh, please,” Vaella has had enough of her brothers whining as she sat up, glaring at them, “Aemond is nothing but a man with a harsh exterior who still goes running to his mother, crying about the people who dared wrong him.”

Jace didn’t want to argue with his sister that her words weren’t quite accurate, and so, felt hesitant about speaking up. It was very obvious that Aemond had changed and wasn’t what he once was. Luke glanced at Jace with uncertainty before daring to open his mouth, “Princess Vaella, I think…I think you should be careful. Around uncle Aemond, I mean, I think, and Jace does too, that it’s best if you just…keep your head down while we stay at the Red Keep.”

Vaella scoffed and looked away from her brothers, shaking her head at them. Nobody could convince her that Aemond was the vicious man he seemed to be. When they were children, and before Alicent could get to her sons with her vile words, her and Aemond would stay in the library and read together fairytales of far-away lands. Each time they would finish the bedtime story, Aemond would sigh and whisper to Vaella that once they grew up they could go and live in a castle on a mountainside with their dragons, if his had finally hatched too. Vaella scoffed at the memory, flashes of a tall and dangerous looking Aemond invading her thoughts. He was different, she could tell, but she refused to acknowledge it just yet.

“Say what you want to say, brothers, you are free to speak your minds, but I shall never bow down to the Hightowers, no matter who tries to make me—” Vaella’s words were cut off as a dragon’s loud screech alerted them, making the siblings dragons stand up and look up towards the sky as if they sensed danger. Vaella, Jace, and Luke were on their feet, bowls abandoned as they rushed to their dragons, holding them and keeping them still. Vaella held the side of her dragon’s face as she looked up into the sky, gulping when she spotted the enormous dragon flying above them. It was Vhagar. And if Vhagar was here, so was Prince Aemond. Jace and Luke realizing the same looked at Vaella alarmed, unknowing what would be right to do.

“īlon umbagon syt zirȳla naejot henujagon.” (We wait for him to leave.) Vaella spoke up with authority, as her eyes remained glued to her uncle’s dragon, “Pār īlon return.” (Then we return.)

And that is how they proceeded. They waited for their uncle to be gone before mounting their own dragons to fly back to the Red Keep. Not wanting to ruin the lovely time they spent at the meadow, they continued to joke on the fly back and decided to race each other, curious to see who’s dragon would get faster to the dragon pit. Arrax was a fast dragon, so it wasn’t a big surprise as Luke beat his siblings to it and Jace had a feeling Vaella just let them win as he arrived as second on Vermax. And Jace was right, Vaella’s mood had been ruined the second they started talking about Prince Aemond, but she tried to hide it as she suggested them racing. However, Silverwing sensed her tenseness and took it easy, floating above the clouds and offering her a sense of calmness before they would land. Vaella instructed her brothers to wear the hoods of their cloaks as night was slowly falling, and she didn’t want any incidents as they had to weave through the people of King’s Landing before getting to the Red Keep. Vaella had her hood up as well, and despite wanting to blend in, it was only bringing attention to them. She wore her burgundy cloak for a reason, but sometimes it did not offer her the camouflage she needed. As they neared the entrance, two guards stepped forward and denied them access, that is until Vaella took off her hood, revealing her platinum blonde hair. The guards bowed their heads and wordlessly opened the gates for the siblings, Jace and Luke lowering their hoods as well as they waltzed inside the courtyard, lords and ladies glancing at them as everyone was headed inside the castle, the cold breeze of the evening drawing people inside their warm chambers. Jace and Luke were snickering about something behind Vaella, not paying attention to her nor towards the stairs, where their step-father, Daemon, was standing with his hands resting on his sword, legs crossed and head lowered as he watched Rhaenyra’s children approaching him.

“Father.” Vaella abruptly stopped, having held eye contact with Daemon the second they entered, making her brothers run into her back. Jace groaned and was about to inquire Vaella why she’d stop, but Luke nudged his shoulder with a panicked expression. Jace looked ahead and instantly tensed, watching an unamused Daemon slowly approaching them.

“Princess Vaella, Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys.” Daemon drew out the names of the children standing in front of him, backs straight and head held high, but Vaella was the only one holding his eye contact. Daemon tried not to smirk at his daughter’s defiance and show of power.

“Prince Daemon.” Luke and Jace had finally found their voices, once Daemon stood in front of them, both of them looking at the ground.

“Do you have no consideration for your mother’s well-being?” Prince Daemon’s voice was harsh as he scolded the siblings, “Disappearing from a place, without a word to your parents, in a land which does not favor us is rather foolish, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Vaella agreed, breaking the eye contact as she lowered her eyes to the ground, “I apologize, my Prince, it was my idea to take our dragons and fly for a bit—”

“Yes, I was not expecting it the other way around, Princess,” Daemon sighed and let his eyes rest on Jace and Luke, “I was told you raided the kitchen—”

“That was my idea, my Prince.” Jace tried to cover for his sister as he averted his eyes from Daemon, embarrassed, but also scared.

“And it was my idea to fly out to this meadow not far from here—”

“Luke!” Vaella snapped and glanced back at him with a glare, telling him to shut up. Only Rhaenyra and her knew of that place and she showed it to her brothers because she trusted them. She did not wish for her father to know about it. Luke smiled at her sheepishly and looked at the ground when Daemon chuckled.

“I know of that meadow, daughter, who do you think showed it to your mother?” Vaella’s eyes snapped back up at her father and she tried to hide her surprise. So all this time, both her mother and father knew of it. It made Vaella wonder how many times they visited that beautiful place.

“Well,” Vaella cleared her throat and glanced at her brothers before looking back at her father, “We apologize for disappearing unannounced, it was foolish of us.”

“Yes, very well,” Daemon nodded at them and sighed, placing his hands on his hips, “Now go and announce your mother that you all are back so that she stops worrying, quickly!”

Jace and Luke nodded eagerly, glad that they wouldn’t get punished, as they ran around Vaella and Daemon, stopping to wait for their sister at the top of the stairs. Vaella was about to walk away as well, but Daemon raised his hand, stopping her.

“Not you, Princess, we haven’t trained together in long.” Daemon said with a smirk and Vaella chuckled, looking at her brothers before waving.

“This late, father?!” Jace whined, wanting Vaella to go with them to their mother, knowing well that Rhaenyra wouldn’t shout at them if Vaella was there to mediate.

“ȳdra daor mazverdagon aōha muñnykeā umbagon syt longer, ziry jāhor mērī jiōragon madder.” (Don't make your mother wait for longer, she will only get madder.) Daemon sounded amused as Luke sighed and took Jace’s arm, quickly running inside the castle, not wanting to prolong their mother’s worry. Vaella chuckled at her father’s words and unclasped her cloak, the evening’s cold breeze getting to her. Daemon twirled his sword around as dusk settled on the kingdom, already wearing his armor. Vaella and him moved to the side of the courtyard to stay out of other’s way as they would train. Vaella went and grabbed an armor fit for her and put it on, getting familiar to the feel of it, as she unclasped her own sword from her hip, gripping the handle tightly in her left hand. She went and stood in front of Daemon, leaving a respectable space between them as Daemon started walking around her, yet Vaella stayed unmoving. She concentrated hard, listening to each of his father’s steps as he was behind her, and abruptly turned when she heard the slash of a sword in the air, rising to strike down on her. Vaella had her own sword up, blocking her father’s sword as she drew in a deep breath, striking once and twice, making her father step back in retaliation. Daemon smirked at her aggressivity and nodded his head at her, showing appreciation for her moves. Vaella paid it no mind as she jumped forward, bringing her sword towards her father as she attacked him this time, bringing vicious jabs against his armor with her sword. Daemon knew she was just playing around with him, having taught her that himself, so he started advancing on her, trying to sway her focus as his sword was blocked by hers again and again.

Vella and Daemon were fierce soldiers who had no problem playing with their adversary before gaining the upper hand and striking down on them. Usually their trainings would stretch out as they both took their time to attack, and tonight was no different. The courtyard was lit by torches as their swords clashed against each other, a few lords standing in the balcony, watching the father and daughter duel, as sweat covered their foreheads. Vaella was panting hard, her arms burning from the constant brute force she was using in her try of disarming her father, but it was futile. It seemed as if Daemon somehow always gained the upper hand and defeated her. It frustrated her, she wanted to show her father that she was capable of taking down anyone, but perhaps that day hasn’t come yet. With one blow, Vaella’s sword lay on the ground as Daemon had his pointed at her neck, chuckling when he saw his daughter’s fuming gaze staring daggers at him.

“You had gotten better, Princess.” Daemon said as he lowered his sword and picked up hers, handing it to her. Vaella took it with force, strapping it onto her hip as she sighed.

“And yet I wasn’t able to disarm you not even once, father, and we’ve been out here for hours.” Vaella voice was quiet as she undid her low bun, setting her hair free, as it reached the middle of her back. She had rather wavy hair and it got frizzy after wearing it in a bun all day, but that was her go-to hairstyle as it was easy to move around and fight, if needed.

“Do not fret, Vaella, you learn very quickly,” Daemon tried to reassure his daughter, “You picked up three new ways of attack tonight, daughter, you are good.”

“Good isn’t enough.” Vaella snapped as she helped her father undo the bindings of his armor, “I need to be excellent.”

“You already are.” Daemon whispered as Vaella stood in front of him. Her eyes found his and she looked away, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Despite Daemon not being around while she was a child, after her parent’s marriage, they had gotten close very quickly. It didn’t come as a big surprise as Vaella knew he was her real father, she yearned to know who he truly was. Rhaenyra had told her many stories of Daemon while she was growing up, and as a young girl, she had been so curious of this mystery man. Finally meeting him at Laena’s funeral came as a shock. Vaella could still remember the knot in her throat and her lungs refusing to take in air when she was forced to greet Daemon by her grandsire. Daemon’s eyes had widened, just slightly, but Vaella had seen it. Rhaenyra was biting her lip as she watched the exchange, and quickly fled the scene when Daemon turned to face her, face littered with a million of questions.

“You are Rhaenyra’s firstborn child, yes?” Daemon had asked Vaella once her mother departed, and she gulped, yet managed to hold his cold gaze.

“Yes, Prince Daemon.” Vaella had answered him, voice hard before she walked off, not knowing what to do with herself, until she spotted her brothers with their cousins. She decided to join them and share her condolences with the two girls, who were quietly crying into Jace and Luke’s shoulders, the boys awkwardly trying to comfort them. Daemon stood shocked as he watched the little girl, Rhaenyra’s firstborn, joining his daughters from Laena, and couldn’t help but think, how neither one of his daughters resembled him as much as Vaella did. His heart clenched and he knew he had to talk to Rhaenyra, ask her what was suddenly eating him alive. Vaella watched as the mystery man, who she looked so much like, stormed off, no surprise, to find her mother. Suddenly, in the young girl’s mind, everything started making sense. Why everyone looked at her with so much spite at the Red Keep whenever she said something harsh. Why people would whisper ‘bastard’ behind her back as she walked by them. And why, sometimes when the King would get drunk, would cup Vaella’s cheek and whisper Daemon’s name to her before stalking off, leaving her so confused. It all made sense now, and she couldn’t stop the few tears escaping her eyes as she hugged her two grieving cousins, offering them support like her brothers had done.

“Vaella, you are a woman like none other,” Daemon spoke up, bringing his daughter back into the present, as he took his armor off, “And you resemble your mother so much, the new and old Gods have truly blessed you—”

“Yet I don’t resemble her enough that people wouldn’t whisper bastard behind my back as a little girl growing up in this castle.” Vaella didn’t mean to be harsh, but she couldn’t help it. Being back here aggravated her, made her feel things she had been repressing for so long. She loved her father and mother, but she resented them for hiding the truth from her, for letting her feel confused for so long. She resented Daemon for not being there for her when she was scared, and had nobody to go to, a man, who would protect her. Prince Laenor was never there when she needed him most and in a perfect fantasy of hers, she imagined Daemon always being there for her.

“If I had known—if Rhaenyra would have told me, you know I would’ve been present in your life since the beginning—” Vaella cut him off with a loud sigh, looking above them, spotting the curious looking lords in the balcony looking down at them. They were talking quietly, but she was paranoid.

“But that wasn’t the case, father, and we can do nothing to change the past, we must accept it and move on. I’m trying to do just that, you should too.” Vaella’s words were firm as she stepped back from her father and started undoing the added leather for protection on her calves.

“Of course.” Daemon muttered and glanced up at the curious lords, sending them a glare before looking back at Vaella. They couldn’t have much privacy at this damned castle.

“Nyke gīmigon skoriot aōha pazavorve lays rȳ.” (I know where your loyalty lays at.) Daemon spoke up in High Valyrian, making sure no one but just the two of them would understand, “Yn nyke līs epagon lo ao jāhor nykeōragon ondoso aōha dāria daor matter se situation se outcome.” (But I must ask if you will stand by your Queen no matter the situation and outcome.)

Vaella stiffened and straightened her back, looking at her father fiercely, “Ao should feel ashamed asking such mirre hen issa!” (You should feel ashamed asking such thing from me!) She didn’t mean for her voice to raise, but she was outraged by her father’s foolish question.

“Rhaenyra iksos se mērī dāria nyke jāhor mirre support.” (Rhaenyra is the only Queen I will ever support.) Daemon saw no hesitation in his daughter, heard no hidden motives in her words. He knew he could trust her, but he needed to hear it. Nothing was certain anymore, and he couldn’t fight a war alone, without her on their side.

“Nyke feel ziry isse ñuha bones, tala, iā vīlībāzma iksis brewing.” (I feel it in my bones, daughter, a war is brewing.) Daemon sighed out, shaking his head as Vaella took off the other leather from her calf.

“Pār īlon kessa vīlībagon ziry.” (Then we shall fight it.) Vaella held her head high, bringing a proud smile on Daemon’s lips, “Se ērinagon ziry.” (And win it.)

“We shall.” Daemon repeated and walked up to his daughter, grabbing her shoulder. She looked at him with tired eyes, feeling her body begging her to take a hot bath and rest, tomorrow would be a straining day. Daemon smiled at Vaella before leaning in and kissing her forehead, wishing her good night, and departing to his chamber to rest for the night.

Vaella heaved a sigh and threw her leather protectors onto the ground roughly, pulling at her own bindings with no patience, wanting to be out of her armor. She didn’t care if the lords were still watching her, she was a soldier, not a gentle lady like those lords were used to seeing and being with. So, with a harsh tug, Vaella took her armor off herself and let it fall to the ground, making it clatter loudly. She couldn’t help but sigh out in relief, finally having the added weight off her, her muscles sore as she hadn’t fought in long while wearing armor. She had started mumbling about how Daemon kept her out here for too long, and now she couldn’t go apologize to her mother for going away unannounced, unaware of the approaching footsteps from behind her. She looked around, searching for her cloak as she wouldn’t leave without it, and the cold breeze of the night was making her sweaty skin shudder.

“Shouldn’t a princess be in her chambers at such late hour, niece?” Vaella went rigid as she stood up straight, recognizing the voice, and she turned around to face her uncle. Aemond was standing tall, not too far from her, as he took in her form, realizing she was wearing the same clothing from earlier today when they had seen each other for the first time in so long. Vaella didn’t wish to answer him, instead stared him down, making sure to glare at him, only amusing Aemond as her face wasn’t very clear due to the night, the torches weren’t strong enough to lit up well the courtyard.

Turning her back to him and snatching her cloak, finally having found it, she snapped at her uncle, “I was out training with my father, uncle.”

Aemond just hummed and watched her fumble with her cloak as she threw it around her shoulders, securing it around her neck. The deep burgundy of her cloak was irking Aemond’s eye as he looked back at his niece’s face, finding nothing but defiance on it. It made him smirk, he rarely met women who didn’t cover before him, frightened out of their minds, and actually held his gaze without ogling at his eyepatch. And why would Vaella do that? She was there that night, she saw it all, she saw him freshly wounded, and even dared to scream at him that he deserved it for trying to defend himself against her brothers, who had ganged up on him. It made Aemond’s blood boil as he let the memory overtake him.

“One last fight before you depart to your chamber, Princess?” Aemond’s lips curled at the ends as raised his right eyebrow at Vaella, watching her every move, analyzing her every reaction. Vaella sucked in a deep breath, suddenly her heart beating quickly at the question. Her muscles were burning, her arms barely able to raise after the hours she had done training with Daemon. She wanted to say yes and punch that smug look off of her uncle’s face, but as a well-mannered princess, she had to decline. It was unacceptable that she was out here, unchaperoned by one of her guards, despite not needing one, so late in the night. While she was with her father it was alright, but the lords still haven’t gone from their balcony, finding this exchange more intriguing than the training with her father, waiting to spread gossip the next day. So no, she had to say no.

“Good night, Prince.” Vaella slightly bowed her head as she brushed past Aemond. Despite there being plenty of space, she wanted to show him that she wasn’t afraid of a little challenge, she just had to protect her own image while at the Red Keep. Wouldn’t want to add fuel to the already lingering fire.

“Sepār hae ēdan suspected, ao ābrar jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon se challenge īlva vali, yn gaomagon ao mirre drējī iōragon bē syt yourselves?” (Just as I had suspected, you women love to talk and challenge us men, but do you ever truly stand up for yourselves?) Aemond’s words made Vaella stop so fast that she let out a quiet groan, her muscles straining. Her ears started ringing as her uncle’s words replayed in her mind, but she had enough self-control to will herself to move again.

“Iksā dekurūbare qrīdrughagon kesrio syt iksā zūgagon. Ao gīmigon nyke would defeat ao, niece.” (You are walking away because you are afraid. You know I would defeat you, niece.) Vaella tried not to see red in front of her eyes, but couldn’t. Not when Aemond was disrespecting her so casually and plainly. Her feet stopped and she took in a deep breath, feeling her chest rise and then slowly fall, as she let out that breath.

“Iksan daor zūgagon!” (I am not afraid!) Vaella couldn’t control the volume of her voice, she made the lords jump in the balcony with her loud shout, as she stormed back towards her uncle. He stood his ground, eyebrow raised as he watched his niece amused, suddenly red in the face after being accused by him of cowardly. Apparently, he still knew what to say to make her tick. Vaella had changed, but apparently, her temper and ego hadn’t.

“Se kesā sagon begging nyke naejot keligon.” (And you will be begging me to stop.) Vaella’s voice was grave as she stood, squaring up her uncle, staring up in his eye due to their close proximity. Aemond suddenly became serios, reaching up to undo the binding of his cloak.

“I take it we will fight then, niece.” He whispered, voice low yet so mischievous and challenging, it drove Vaella mad as she was fuming. She knocked her shoulder into his as she went back to her previous spot, where she had been searching for her cloak, and unclasped it, letting it fall onto the ground. She grabbed the hair tie off her wrist and messily tied her hair in a low bun, strands of hair sticking out in all directions, some didn’t even make it inside the bun, but she didn’t care as she drew her sword from its socket, holding it pointed towards Prince Aemond. He had abandoned his cloak as well, his own sword in his hand, as he came to stand in front of Princess Vaella.

“Will you not wear your armor, dear niece? Aren’t you afraid your perfect, fragile, skin might be cut—”

“I have fought battles without wearing armor, uncle, and I came out unscathed.” Vaella laughed, sarcasm dripping in her voice, “You should be the one afraid for their fragile, human skin.”

“You are forgetting I am a Targaryen myself, Princess.” Aemond snapped at the obvious jab of Vaella’s, wishing to slash her throat, but so far, they had been circling each other only, undecided who was the prey and who was praying on them.

“Half Targaryen, Prince.” Vaella’s voice was loud as she made sure even the lords would hear her and she could hear them whispering, oh, how sweet the gossip tomorrow would be, she couldn’t wait. Aemond had seemingly had enough of Vaella’s taunting and decided to strike first, aggressively and merciless, as his blow sent Vaella stumbling back. His force was amazing, Vaella imagined he was weaker as his tall, lanky body seemed to have less force than the actual he had in himself. She braced herself, willing her mind to ignore the burning of her muscles as adrenaline started rushing through her, making her smirk to herself. She saw Aemond trying to land another strike, so she jumped first, raising her sword and bringing it down on him, making Aemond hiss as he barely was able to deflect her blow. Vaella chuckled and bowed her head in a mocking apology, making Aemond strike again harshly, aiming for her legs, trying to throw her off balance. But it didn’t work as Vaella blocked each and every of his attacks, their swords clashing against each other loudly as both of them were grunting due to the force they were putting into the fight. And so, it was established, Aemond was the one who attacked and Vaella was the one who had to defend herself, from time to time, gaining a bit of advantage as she managed to corner Aemond with her strong blows, yet never managed to disarm him. It was becoming tiring and Vaella was starting to get frustrated as all she wished for was to fall into her puffy bed and let her body rest, but when Aemond managed to slice the sleeve of her shirt, it snapped her back from her body’s wants, and broke her patience. She was done playing the victim, defending herself from his ruthless blows. She took charge, going at him, and striking him from each and every side she could, twisting her body and making Aemond defend like he has never before. His long hair was getting in the way of his good eye as Vaella kept circling him and attempting jabs at him, and he was growing frustrated, wanting to disarm her to prove his point to her. But Vaella was just not letting him gain advantage and he could help but let out a frustrated cry as he jumped forward, making Vaella retaliate, as she didn’t see his sudden, stupid, attack coming. And because she was taken off guard, Aemond managed to knock the sword out of her hold, making her hiss when her wrist suffered the strain of the blow. He didn’t just knock the sword out of her hold, but ripped it out. Their chests were rising and falling quickly, both of them sweaty, and out of breath as they gazed into each other’s eyes, waiting for the other to make the next move. Technically, Vaella had lost, but Aemond wasn’t making the final move, as if he couldn’t actually believe he had won. But he had, in his mind, at least. And with a smug smirk, he allowed his body to relax as he slowly started raising his sword from the ground to point it at Vaella’s neck. But this was exactly what Vaella was waiting for, and she almost laughed when in a swift movement, while raising her leg to knock it into Aemond’s wrist to knock his sword out of his hold, she also went and grabbed the dagger hidden inside her boot. When Aemond’s sword clattered to the ground he had no time to feel shocked or try to even retrieve it, because he found himself tackled onto the hard ground, grunting as the back of his head collided with the sandy concrete. He looked up at his niece as her body pinned his down against the ground, legs around his hips as she pushed all her body weight on him, and he gulped. This was something new. He had never been put down by a woman, let alone a light one as his niece, who had him struggling to stand up, yet couldn’t. His fidgeting came to a sudden stop when Vaella’s dagger was pointed against his neck, lightly pushing against his skin. He let out a breath, looking up at the Princess with an almost defeated look on his face. Vaella, well versed in hand-to-hand combat, knew how to keep a man pinned against the ground, and made sure she left no options that could help Aemond get up and continue their fight. Now, Vaella was the one who won, Aemond didn’t have a second weapon like she did. The fight was over. Won by her. She gazed into Aemond’s eye with smugness, pressing her dagger a bit more into his skin, raising her eyebrows at him.

“What do you say, uncle—” But her words got swallowed, when Aemond suddenly pressed his neck against her dagger, scaring her that he was trying to slice his own neck, making her draw it back just slightly, offering Aemond a small opening so that he could grab her other dagger out of her boot. Before she could register what had happened, she only felt her other dagger being pulled from her boot and she had her own dagger pressing against her neck, Aemond being the one with a smug smirk on his face this time. Vaella couldn’t mask her shock as her eyes ran all over Aemond’s face, trying to think of her next move, what she should do. However, she made the mistake of softening her body, not pressing Aemond against the ground with all of her weight anymore, offering him the chance to move around freely. And so, Aemond decided to sit up swiftly, holding Vaella close to himself by her middle, as they had her daggers pressing against each other’s throats.

“I say it’s a draw, niece.” His voice was low as he breathed out his words, the two of them so close they could feel each other’s breaths on their faces. Vaella’s mind had gone blank, she felt like she couldn’t breathe or think all of a sudden. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t help but notice how firmly Aemond was holding her against himself, how she felt his thighs tensing underneath her, how her eyes were suddenly on his curled lips. No, she must’ve been losing her mind. Aemond tried to ignore how Vaella seemed to fit so well against his body and in a different scenario, they could’ve been snuggled up against each other like this. But Vaella finally caught herself and snapped out of her traitorous thoughts and drew her dagger back from Aemond’s neck, scurrying up and as far away as possible from Aemond. She refused to acknowledge all the thoughts that had just ran through her mind while she was sitting on top of him, she refused. It never happened, or else she’d hate herself until the day she dies. Aemond suddenly seemed to be robbed of the warmth he had been feeling prior, making it realize that it was Vaella who had been emitting it. Just as he had looked up at her, he saw a hand offered for him to take. He grabbed onto Vaella’s hand, who helped him up wordlessly, both of them trying to ignore the firm grip they seemed to have and their bodies reactions to it. Vaella quickly let go of his warm and large hand once Aemond stood on his feet. Aemond couldn’t help but notice his heart racing as he had felt Vaella’s soft skin against his battered one.

“Your daggers have been nicely crafted,” Aemond found his voice as he looked at his niece’s dagger, inspecting it closely. Of course, it had the emblem of the Targaryen’s on it and the handle was decorated with three blood-red stones, “Small, sharp, and vicious.”

Vaella knew he was talking about her daggers, but couldn’t help think he was describing her. She wasn’t small, however, maybe once had been, but once she grew she towered over most men, only the really tall ones could look down on her. And it just so happened that Aemond was almost a head taller than her. She refused to look at him as Aemond handed her dagger back, searching her face to see a reaction or something, but Vaella had blanked. All she wanted to do was lay in her bed and forget that this whole fight even happened. Once both of her daggers were in her hands, she grabbed her sword and walked up to get her cloak, but didn’t bother to put it on, as she stormed past her uncle, making sure to keep her distance as the feel of his body was still fresh in her mind.

Aemond grabbed his own cloak and gazed after his niece, securing his sword against his hip as he took off towards the city, needing to blow off some steam. Her soft skin forever engraved inside his mind.

↳Next part (to be posted)

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