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patheticdarling · 6 months
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Consequences
Summary: Reader has been kidnapped by the Greens as payback for the murder of Ser Criston Cole. Now, Aemond, alongside the rest of the Blacks must plot to get her back.
Finale of the Traitors Series
Part I, Part II, Part III Here
Warnings: war acts/cussing/blood/sexual assault (implied & talks of r*pe)/kidnapping/crying/torture & injuries/incest/infertility/moon tea (iykyk)/arranged marriage/mentions of breastfeeding/VERY DARK & ANGSTY
Word Count: 6695 (it's a finale, it has to be long!)
*NOT MY GIF*
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Aemond awoke that morning to find his bedside empty, which was not unusual per se. He was quite used to you waking up earlier to go nurse the twins. Though as he dressed for the day, he half-expected you to return, so that you would accompany him to breakfast like normal.
However, the urgent knocking at the door, pulled him from his thoughts, "Enter," he answered as he finished dressing.
"My Prince," the guard bowed quickly, "Her Grace has called an emergency council meeting and requests that you make haste to the Great Hall."
Aemond nodded, "Has my wife been notified as well?"
"I beg your pardon, my Prince, but I cannot be sure," the guard explained, "But Her Majesty sent the Queensguard to gather all members of the royal family."
Aemond gave him another nod before the two made their way to Dragonstone's Great Hall. All the Lords and Ladies stood around the Painted Table, muttering amongst themselves. Aemond tried to push past the uneasiness he felt when the room fell silent upon his entry.
"Your Grace," Aemond bowed to your mother, "Apologies for not accompanying the Princess, I was not sure where-"
"Aemond," her voice a bit hoarse, "Something has happened."
The prince felt his stomach sink further, "Where is Y/N?" he asked with the silent hope that you'd walk in at that very moment.
"There was a message delivered earlier this morning," your mother's shaky voice explained. Maester Gerardys held a piece of parchment, the green Targaryen seal broken, as he began reading it over the table.
"To the False Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and all of the traitorous members of her Black Council. The Bastard Princess Y/N must answer for her crimes against the Crown. Including the murder of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Criston Cole. The Princess will be tried and if found guilty, executed on the morrow. Signed, on behalf of His Grace, King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm," the Maester concluded.
Aemond's jaw tensed and his fists balled. Anger seemed to be steaming off of him, like a dragon exuding smoke.
"What is to be done about this?" Luke spoke up.
Jace nearly scoffed at your younger brother's question, "They have our sister. I do not care what means they wish to justify, we will reign fire upon them and-"
"Jacaerys," your mother's tone stern.
Your older brother's jaw tensed, "My apologies, Your Grace. That was out of turn."
Eyes fell to Aemond, one of his hands already gripping the handle of his sword on his hip. His breathing seemed strangely even as he kept his gaze focused on the glowing King's Landing carved into the Painted Table.
"What do we believe to be the best course of action?" your mother addressed her advisors.
Before anyone could move to speak, Aemond turned to leave the Great Hall. That was before various members of the Queensguard took a step into his path.
"I will only say this once, out of my way," the first thing that had left his lips since learning of your kidnapping. All of the knights looked to their Queen for further instruction. Aemond's own head turned slightly.
"Where are you going, Aemond?" she asked.
Your husband turned around slowly, "I'm going to kill our brother."
An almost hushed gasp left the mouths of the Black council, "Aemond, you must know that is foolish," she began to argue, "You'd be slaughtered. And what good will that do Y/N?"
"I do not plan to act alone," his eye fell to your brothers, "The young princes will help me to escort her safely from the city."
Your mother moved to protest, already shaking her head adamantly, "No, they will n-"
"Yes, we will," Jace had already stepped up, joining Aemond's side as Luke trailed behind.
"Jace, Luke, this is far too dangerous," she argued, "You could be killed. All of you. I will not risk my children if I do not have to. Let me send Ser Erryk and the rest-"
"With all due respect, Your Grace, she is our sister," Jace argued.
"It has to be us," Luke finished.
Your mother closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh, "Fine. I grant you leave. Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys, your sole mission is to stealthly and safely extract the Princess Y/N from the Red Keep. Prince Aemond," she turned to address your husband, his face remained hard, "You are aware of your mission."
"Your Grace," the three young men bowed. The Queensguard stepped aside, allowing your brothers and husband to pass. Jace and Luke taking off to the Dragonmont first after exchanging their goodbyes with your mother.
"Aemond," she stopped your husband, "If you do this, may the Gods have mercy on your soul."
"While I appreciate the sentiment, it is not my soul you should pray for, Your Grace."
But even the mercy of both the old Gods and the new, would not be enough to save Aegon from his younger brother's wrath. Not after Aemond found out what Aegon had been doing.
"Now I can see why Aemond is so taken with you, sweet niece," Aegon snickered as he laced his britches back up, "Most women's bodies never look the same after having a baby."
You lay facing away from him, curled into yourself. The blood ran down your legs, staining the once-pale linen sheets as you let the tears fall across your cheeks.
Aegon knocked back another cup of wine as he finished dressing. He came around to your side of the bed, "Maybe if you're lucky, I'll put another baby in your belly. Wouldn't that be fitting? Bastards for a bastard," he pushed your messed hair from your face as you stared blankly ahead, "Ugh, you know you're dreadfully boring. I liked you better when I was fucking you."
"He's going to kill you," your voice cracked, raw from your screams.
Aegon rushed back over to you, tugging your head back by the nape of your neck, "What did you say?"
"He's going to kill you," you hissed, "Aemond," the letcher tried hard to hide the fear in his eyes, "You think that chair keeps you safe? After he finds out what you've done, there won't be a place in all Seven Kingdoms you can hide from my husband."
"You've never known when to keep your bitch mouth shut," he threw you back onto the bed, "My brother can try to kill me all he likes. It won't undo what's already done, will it?" Aegon cackled drunkenly, "Have the maids change the sheets. I want them fresh for when I return after supper."
And with that, he left you. In a ball of pain, tears, fear, anger, and blood. Locked away. And Aegon was right. Even if Aemond or your mother's council managed to save you, it wouldn't change what Aegon had done to you.
You couldn't be sure how much time had passed when you heard a soft knock on the door, "Y/N?" a soothing voice called for you.
You turned, sitting up from your fetal position on the bed, "Helaena, come in," you sniffled as you pulled on your nearby robe.
She gave you a pitiful smile, a tray of various articles in her hands, "These will help." Helaena made her way over to you, taking a small basin of warm water and a cloth, "May I?"
You nodded as she carefully wiped over the cuts that littered your bruised face and body. She was even more gentle when she wiped the blood from the inside of your calf, offering you the rag before she got higher up.
"Thank you," you muttered as you wiped the remaining dried blood away, wincing slightly.
Helaena extended two warm mugs to you, trading them for the red-stained cloth, "One is milk of the poppy to ease the pain and the other is moon tea to..." her voice trailed off as she rang out the bloodied rag instead.
You drank them both down quickly, handing her back the emptied cups, "I know what it is for. Thank you, Helaena." She set them both down and moved the tray off the bed.
"I am sorry," she spoke as softly as usual, "I hope you know that you do not deserve this, Y/N-"
"And neither do you," you finished.
Helaena avoided your eyes, "He is my husband and their King."
"But not your king?" she stayed silent, "Helaena, it is me, good sister. You may speak freely. You know I'd never betray your trust."
"He is a monster," her voice trembling as she spoke, "Mother said it was my duty to provide him with heirs. I've always wanted children. I tried. But the Gods will not allow it. And I cannot blame them. Why would they allow me to bring a child into this?"
"Oh, Helaena," you took her hands in yours, "I am truly sorry. I know you never desired to be married to Aegon. Had this all been right, you should have married Jacaerys. You might have even been happy. Surely happier than you are now."
"Do you miss your family, Y/N?"
A shaky breath left you, "Very much. I miss my mother and my brothers. I miss my step-sisters. My grandmother. Even Daemon," you laughed a bit before the sobs caught in your throat, "I miss my children. My sweet babies. I know they would love to meet their Aunt Helaena."
She smiled sweetly through her tears, "And Aemond?"
You nodded, sniffling as your own tears fell, "Yes. I miss Aemond. I miss them all. So very much."
Before the two of you could properly find comfort in one another's vulnerability, the chamber doors swung open. The Dowager Queen entered along with Ser Otto Hightower and Ser Arryk Cargyll.
Queen Alicent confused as to why her own daughter was with you, "My Queen," they all bowed to Helaena, "What are you doing with the prisoner?"
"Y/N should not be our prisoner. She is my sister. She is Aemond's wife, the mother of his children-"
"She murdered the Lord Commander, Your Grace," The Hand cut in, "And as for your younger brother, he will be dealt with when the time comes. Now, come along, my Queen. The accused must ready themselves for their trial on the morrow."
Helaena looked to you, apology and pity on her face, "It's alright, Your Grace. Thank you for your help."
"Good night, Princess," she curtsied, "The sapphire will shatter the ruby." It was never unusual for Helaena to give such cryptic messages and yet, you still only understood them once it was too late.
"Ser Arryk, escort Queen Helaena back to her chambers," the Dowager Queen instructed, "I need a moment alone with the Princess Y/N."
Ser Arryk heeded Alicent's commands and led Helaena from the room. Ser Otto exchanged a glance with his daughter before following the young Queen and knight. The door shut behind him as Alicent lingered about the room.
"I remember the last time the two of us were in this room, Princess," she spoke.
You refused to look at her, staring out of the windows at Blackwater Bay, "As do I, Your Grace," your hands falling to your stomach, remembering the sweet feeling of when it swelled with you and Aemond's babies.
"I have heard little about what became of my grandchild. I pray they are alive and well."
You tried to bite back the tears at the mention of your children, "Grandchildren," you corrected her, "Twins. A boy and a girl. Both healthy. And silver-haired, I know you tend to worry about things like that, Your Grace."
Alicent let out a small laugh, or possibly a scoff, "Even though we are the ones who carry and bore them, children do seem to have a habit of inheriting their father's features. What are their names?"
"Viserys and Visenya. For my Grandsire and baby sister. They were born on Dragonstone mere days after both their passings."
"Such a sweet sentiment. I hope to meet them someday," she muttered, "Princess, last time we were in this room, I offered you a deal, do you remember?"
This time you outright scoffed, "How could I forget? My life and the lives of my unborn children in exchange for bending the knee to Aegon and betraying my own mother."
"I would not have put it that way. But it does not matter now. Aegon is King and you are here just the same."
"What is your point, Alicent? Unless you merely came to gloat about how you've managed to tear apart our entire family."
"Tomorrow, your life seems to be up for forfeit yet again. So, I come to you with another proposition," your brow raised as she spoke, "The Hand thinks it wise to annul your marriage to Aemond, as he is a traitor to the Crown-"
"As am I, if you've forgotten," you interrupted, "I do not think you will find another lord who would take my hand. And my lack of virtue will definitely not aid in that."
"It is not a lord that we intend and I can assure you that your lack of virtue will not be considered a fault," she answered, your brow furrowed with her pause, "King Aegon."
You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it and yet you felt your heart sink at her unwavering demeanor, "You're madder than even I wished to believe."
The Queen Mother cleared her throat, "The King is in need of heirs. You have proven to be fertile enough to provide him with them. You said it yourself, healthy babes with silver hair. And that is exactly what His Grace requires."
You were in utter disbelief, "What of Helaena? You'd have me displace your own daughter."
"It is in keeping with Targaryen customs, is it not? Aegon the Conqueror took both his sisters to wife. Why should my son be any different than his namesake?"
"Your son is no conqueror," you spat, "You and that council of leeches have tried time and time again to break Aemond and me apart. What makes you think this time will be any different?"
"Because this time your life is forfeit, Princess. As is the rest of your family's," she explained, "If you are executed tomorrow, war is inevitable. Hundreds will die, if not thousands. Including your children and Aemond."
"You'd kill your own son and grandchildren? All for a wastrel who never wanted to sit the Iron Throne in the first place."
"I only do what I believe to be in the best interest of the Realm, Princess. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two about that, especially if you are to serve as Queen."
"You are not only mad but completely foolish if you think forcing me to marry Aegon will do anything good for the Realm. My mother, my husband, they'd never let it stand."
"As I told you once before, Rhaenyra will not attack the Capital with her daughter in it. Especially not if her only daughter serves as Queen Consort and if the Gods are good, not if she's carrying the future heir to the throne."
"Do you truly believe the Gods to be as foolish as yourself? You think they would allow me to bear that degenerate's children? Do you truly think I would allow myself to do so?"
"Aegon is our King," she refuted, "His Grace is to be spoken of with reverence. Carrying his children would be a blessing to not only you but House Targaryen and the whole of the Realm."
"You have always known what he is and you toil in his service anyway," the Dowager Queen stood tense at your words, both of your gazes shifting to the blood-stained sheets, "And even as a new mother, I can understand only acting in what you believe to be in the best interest of your children. But does that truly mean turning a blind eye?" you spat, slowly approaching her as she stood ridged, "There are a few things I wish for you to understand, Your Grace. I want you to understand that I will never marry Aegon. Understand that he has never been half-worthy of the throne he sits," mere inches kept you from her face as you lowered your tone, "And I want you to understand this most of all, that it was you who put him there. It is you, Alicent Hightower, who will be to blame when the entire Realm burns for it."
She fought the tears you watched brim in her eyes before swallowing thickly, "Have it your way, Princess. I have tried to be more than fair. May the Father and the rest of the Seven show you just mercy on the morrow. The maids will be in soon to change your sheets. I'd hate for you to sleep in such a mess."
And with that, the Queen Mother left you. Your hands shook and before you knew it, you were tearing the messed bed sheets apart yourself, broken sobs clawing out of your already raw throat. Your chest heaved as you stared at the tattered bed before your knees fell weak and you collapsed to the carpet-covered stone. What was to become of you now?
You weren't sure how you managed to soothe yourself enough to find sleep. The Dowager Queen had commanded that you be bathed and the room rectified for His Grace. And now you were just as you were earlier that day. This time, nobody to help you clean yourself after as you lacked the strength to do it yourself.
"Sleep in it," Aegon had drunkenly mocked as he redressed, "It'll remind you how lucky you'll be to carry my heirs, Princess. Or should I say, my Queen?"
Your body snapped awake when you heard one of your chamber doors creak open as the dim light from the hall illuminated the room. Your body was ridged as you prepared yourself for the struggle yet again. You felt the bed indent behind you, it was odd for Aegon to go about it this way but you thought it best to stay as quiet as possible.
Suddenly a large hand came over your mouth and you did not hesitate to kick, flail, scream, or scratch your attacker. Your tangled hair obscured your eyesight as you fought blindly.
"Get off me!" you cried, "Stop it! Please, no!"
"Shhh, ñuha jorrāelagon, it is me," your body ceased at the familiar tones. A soft touch pushed the hair from your eyes and a sharp gasp left your lips as you were met with the sight of an eyepatch and a soft lilac eye. My love.
"A-Aemond," your voice trembled. Your hands moved to hold his face, tracing the sharp features, "Is that truly you? This is not a dream. A figment of my imagination, perhaps."
He met your hand on his face, "No, my dear wife. I am here. I came here for you."
You should have felt relief at his words but all you could manage was shame. You pulled yourself from Aemond, retreating into your designated fetal position.
"Y/N? What is it?" he reached out for you once again.
"No," you stopped him, "P-Please, do not touch me. I can barely stand you looking at me."
Aemond's brow furrowed before finally taking in your disheveled state. Your hair tangled and damp with tears and sweat. There were gashes all throughout your nightgown. Cuts and bruises decorated your body. And finally, the blood. The blood that stained everything. Your nightgown, the sheets, your legs. He had seen enough of Aegon's previous serving girls, other lowly girls from around the castle, even Helaena. There was no saving Aegon now.
"Y/N, did he-" Aemond could barely bring himself to say the words, "Did Aegon do this?"
You answered first with a sob, "I begged him to stop, Aemond. You must believe me, I did not want-"
"Shhh," he moved to hold you before pulling himself back as you flinched again. His heart breaking, "Of course, I believe you, my love. And I'm sor-"
"Please do not say you are sorry," you cut him off, "That is the last thing I want to hear. Just please promise me it won't happen again. I-I can't go through that- I won't."
"Y/N," Aemond merely placed his hand near you, careful of his movements, "I swear by the Old Gods and the New, he will never lay his hand on you again." Or anyone ever again, once Aemond was through with him.
A wave of relief washed over you as you finally managed to let your hand intertwine with Aemond's. That familiar sense of security enveloping you once again.
"I hope I can assume you have a plan to get us out of this rat's nest of a Capital?"
Aemond nodded, pulling a cloak from behind me, "Put this on. Your brothers are waiting for us."
"My brothers?" you questioned, a tug at your heart at their bravery and dedication to you.
You finished tying the cloak around you before taking Aemond's hand as he led you through the secret passageways that ran through the Red Keep. Finally coming out of the back of the castle onto one of the beaches that surrounded it. Jace and Luke standing beside their own dragons as well as Vhagar and Seasmoke. How they managed to sneak four nearly-adult dragons into King's Landing was a mystery to you.
"Sister! Y/N!" they both turned, running to you, arms open.
Aemond stepped in front of them as you stood ridged, "Slowly, boys." Both of them exchanged concerning looks.
Jace's fist curled around the hilt of his sword at the realization of why Aemond had stopped them, "He did this?"
Aemond gave a quick nod as you looked away shamefully, "And he will be dealt with accordingly."
"I'm coming with you," Jace stated, "Luke, you and Y/N fly back to Dragonstone. Mother will be expecting you."
"Go where? Jace, what are you talking about?" you questioned.
Aemond turned to you, taking your hands gently again, "You are safe and that's all that matters. Now, I need you to mount Seasmoke and fly home."
"I will. Once you do the same with Vhagar and Jace with Vermax."
"I cannot come with you this time, ñuha jorrāelagon." My love.
Tears brimmed in your eyes as you came to understand what was happening. Aemond could not let what Aegon did stand. The threat you had made to the drunken usurper had come to fruition.
"Gaomā daor emagon naejot gaomagon bisa, Aemond. Kosti jikagon lenton. Kosti sagon lēda īlva riñar. Kostilus, ñuha jorrāelagon," you pleaded with your husband. You do not have to do this, Aemond. We can go home. We can be with our children. Please, my love.
"Nyke daor shijetra ñuha lēkia syt bisa. Ziry gaomas daor gūrogon ziry. Ziry ōdrikagon ao," Aemond slowly and gently took your face in his hands, "Aegon must face the consequences of his actions. I must kill him." I cannot forgive my brother for this. He does not deserve it. He hurt you.
"Aemond, if you do this, they'll-"
"Kill me," he finished, "I know."
"And you are just accepting of that? You are just accepting that you are abandoning me? Abandoning our children? Our family?!" your voice cracked as it rose.
Your husband let out a trembling sigh, "I am your sworn protector. That means I swore to rid the world of those who would bring you harm. I do not intend to abandon you, my sweet wife. My priorities were to get you out safely but to also ensure that my brother faces the dire consequences of his actions."
Arguing was pointless, Aemond's mind was made up. But that did not mean you could not try, "As my sworn protector, you made an oath to always be by my side. And our children's. And while I know your mind is set. I just ask that you promise me that you will try," his brow quirked at your request, "That you will try your best to return to me. To return to our babies. Promise me that you will try not to die, Aemond."
He took your hands in his, bringing them softly to his lips, "I promise, my love. For you and our children, I will try."
You wanted nothing more than for Aemond to wrap you so tightly in his embrace and never let you go. But another part of you could hardly deal with his hands intertwined with yours. And Aemond knew this, which is why he pushed no further.
"I love you, Aemond."
"And I love you, Y/N."
"Y/N! Aemond!" you turned to see Jace pointing up at the Red Keep, Aegon's knights marching about, looking for you.
"You must go," Aemond pulled you over to Seasmoke, aiding you as you mounted his back, "Tell our children I love them."
"You will tell them yourself," you stated. Aemond gave you a soft smirk before kissing your hands once again. Jace waved him back to the tunnel before the two of them disappeared into its darkness.
The commotion from the castle stirred the dragons, "Sagon gīda, Seasmoke," you cooed at your dragon. You turned to your younger brother as he finished mounting Arrax, both of you signaling your readiness. Be calm, Seasmoke.
"Down there!" you heard a voice call from one of the cliffs. A small army of guards rushed down to the beach.
"Go, Luke!" you called to him, the panic in his eyes growing as he took flight, "Sōvegon!" Seasmoke took to the air just before the guards were able to circle you. Fly.
The beaches of Dragonstone had never looked more welcoming as they came into view. The usually burnt smell emitting from the Dragonmont was enough to make most gag but right now, it filled your nose like the scent of fresh lavender oil.
"Y/N," Luke approached you wearily as you dismounted from Seasmoke, "A-Are you alright?"
You nodded as the tears brimmed in your eyes at the relief of being home and safe, "Thank you, little brother. I owe you my life."
"You're my big sister," he smiled softly, "And I know you would have done the same for me. Would you like to take my arm? I can escort us to Mother."
That heaviness in your chest dwindled a bit at your brother's sweet gesture as you wrapped your arm in his, "Thank you, Luke."
His eyes fell sad at the bruises that littered your arm, "I can fetch Grand Maester Gerardys afterward if you'd like."
You said nothing but nodded as you continued up the steps and through the halls of the castle. You arrived at the Great Hall, entering the relatively empty room. Only most of your immediate family seemed to be present.
"Prince Lucerys Velaryon and Princess Y/N Velaryon!" Ser Erryk announced quickly, a slight smile on his face at the announcement of your return.
Your mother turned quickly, an alleviated smile spreading across her face as she rushed to you, "Y/N!" she wrapped her arms around you. As much as you hated the idea of being touched by a man, nothing could have eased you more than your mother's warm and protective embrace.
"Mother," your hands clinging to her dress as you both sobbed into one another.
She caressed your hair, tucking it behind your ears, "Oh, my sweet girl. My beautiful princess," she cried as she caught sight of your cut lips and bruised neck, "I am so sorry this happened. And I promise you, they will pay for what they have done."
"Aemond and Jace are making sure of that," you muttered.
"Jace?" she questioned before her eyes moved to a guilt-ridden Luke, "Your brother went with Aemond?"
Luke nodded hesitantly, "Please do not be angry, Your Grace. Jace only did what he thought was right-"
"He deliberately disobeyed me!"
"You said it yourself they must pay for what they've done! Aegon hurt Y/N! He rap-"
"Lucerys!" you cut him off, preventing him from revealing what Aegon had actually done to hurt you, "That is enough."
Your mother's ridged at her assumption of what Luke would have said had you not stepped in, "Y/N, what did they do to you?"
You refused to answer, instead staring her down with your tearful gaze and heavy breaths. This gave her more time to take in your extensive injuries.
"Luke, find Grand Maester Gerardys," her eyes never leaving yours as she delved out instructions, "The rest of you, leave us. We will reconvene later."
"At once, Your Grace," various agreeing statements came from everyone as they exited Dragonstone's Great Hall.
Your mother's breath trembled as she took your hands again, "You do not have to speak if you do not wish. I am only going to ask you this once so we may proceed forward with the same knowledge of what happened to you there." She swallowed thickly as the tears fell down both of your eyes, "Did Aegon rape you?"
And the answer to that very question is what led your husband and elder brother to find themselves creeping through a hidden doorway into Aegon's chambers.
"The guards are busy looking for her," Jace whispered over to Aemond, "We should have plenty of time."
"Mmm," Aemond grunted in return. Aegon was passed out, an empty wine goblet looking as if it had fallen onto his floor. Knowing that Aegon could sleep so soundly after defiling you made Aemond's blood boil. The rage coursed through him as he snatched his older brother from his sleep.
"Huh?!" Aegon grumbled, "Aemond?"
"Hello, big brother," Aemond practically growled. Aegon moved to yell before Aemond clamped his hand over his mouth, "If you so much as make a sound, I will cut off your cock and shove it down your throat before your guards even have time to make it through the doors. Am I clear?"
Aegon huffed before nodding his head, "I see you brought along our Strong nephew. It is so good to see you, Jace. Been a long time, too long really."
Jace finished barring the door, "Uncle. I would not be too happy to see me if I were you."
"And to what do I owe this little surprise visit, Brother?" Aemond only glared at his brother, "Oh, it is not me you wish to see, is it? The Princess Y/N-"
Aemond's hand came across his elder brother's face before taking him by the collar of his shirt, "You dare speak her name? After what you did, you dare-"
"It was only a bit of fun!" Aegon giggled, the wine still having a very obvious effect on him, "You have really got to learn to share, little brother. Keeping a woman like Y/N all to yourself? Well, it's just not fair to the rest of us."
Another blow to Aegon's now bloodied face, "I have never known you to be a wise man, Aegon. But only a fool would do what you did and expect to live long afterward. A debt is owed."
"You do know you will die for this," Aegon muttered.
"You're older, it is only right that you are first," Aemond answered as he pulled his dagger from his belt.
Back on Dragonstone, most of your outward problems had been remedied. The Grand Maester had ensured you that the bruises would fade soon, he had also sewn your bigger cuts and put a soothing poultice over the smaller ones. Your mother and he both instructed the kitchen servants to bring you milk of the poppy when you wished to sleep.
And now you were to finally be reunited with your babies, "They've missed you. I can tell," your mother explained as she escorted you to the nursery.
"It's been less than three nights without them and I still felt as if I would burst into flames," you explained.
Small laughs were exchanged between the two of you, "Your Grace, Princess," one of the maids greeted you, "The babes are in their cradles. Though their next feeding is soon, I can return whenever it pleases you."
"That will not be necessary," you answered, "I will continue feeding them myself as I did before."
"Y/N, you are still recovering," your mother tried to intervene, "I'm sure, she would not mind-"
"As I said before, I will feed my babies."
The wet nurse turned to your mother who gave a curt nod, "As you wish, Princess. Your Grace," she curtsied before leaving the nursery.
You had walked over to the cradles. Your two sweet babies cooing and wriggling about. A smile spread across your face as you took each of them in one arm.
You winced a bit at the added pressure to your bruises, "Careful," your mother moved to take your son, "Here, let me-"
"I'm fine, Mother," you snapped, turning away, "I'm sorry," you sighed, "I know you only mean well. I just need to take care of them. On my own, please."
"I know, my love," she sighed as she pushed your hair from your face, "When you and Jace were born, I hardly let anyone near the two of you. Your father was the exception, most of the time anyway."
"Which father?" she shot you a discerning look, "I am a grown woman, Mother. Not a child. Besides, it is just us. We may speak the truth as we both know it."
Your mother sighed, "Both," she chuckled slightly, "Laenor, Harwin. They both wanted to be involved, a rarity in men nowadays, let alone almost twenty years ago. But I could hardly bear not having you in my arms. I had to protect you. So many people knew the best way to hurt me was to hurt one of you. I could not let that happen. You two were all I had before the rest of your brothers."
You swayed with your own babies, "I love you, Mother. And I can only hope to be half the mother you are."
"You are already better, sweet girl," she caressed your face, "These two have no idea how lucky they are to have you for a mother."
Gazing down at your silver-haired babies brought your mind back to the man they had inherited it from. And your chest grew heavy at the possibility that you might never see him or your twin brother again.
"But they need their father," your voice strained, "I was lucky enough to have Harwin and Laenor for as long as I did. Even Daemon. I cannot imagine if my babies were to never experience that."
Your mother moved to speak, "Y/N-"
"He has to come back," you cried softly, "I cannot do this without him. I just-"
"Your Grace!" the wet nurse had burst through the doors, "Princess, I-I apologize for the intrusion but-"
"The Princes have returned!" Ser Erryk followed into the nursery, his chest heaving as he spoke.
"The Princes?" Ser Erryk nodded at your mother's question, "Gather everyone in the Great Hall as fast as you can," she turned back to you, "We must go."
You nodded, giving each of your babes a hastened kiss on the head before handing them over to the wet nurse, "I shall return."
Your mother and you hurried to the Great Hall. The various members of her council stood by anxiously. You scanned the room and your heart nearly skipped a beat at the sight of your husband and brother. You ran over to them, embracing Jace first.
"I'm so happy you are alright, big brother," you sighed.
Your brother gave you a soft smirk, "It is so good to have you home, Sister, where you belong."
"Aemond," you finally turned to your husband, taking his chiseled face into your shaky hands, "You kept your promise."
His hands fell over yours, "Of course, I did. What would I do without you and our beautiful babies?"
Gazing at your husband allowed you to finally take in his tattered sight. His hair was frizzed, blood smeared on the leather of his clothes, and yet he seemed to be unharmed.
"What happened?" you asked, "Is he-" your voice caught in your throat at the mere thought of Aegon.
Aemond nodded at you before turning to your mother, "Our usurper brother is dead. I imagine the Greens will be on Dragonstone's shores in mere hours."
"Their cause is lost. Are they truly so opposed to my ascension?" your mother asked.
"Alicent Hightower gave the king three sons, Your Grace," the Sea Snake answered, "And not once did your father waiver on you being his appointed heir. She and Ser Otto are far too scorned to give up now."
"Lord Corlys is right," Daemon stepped in, "Aegon's death is merely a further justification of their Rhaenyra the Cruel narrative. We must prepare for war, Your Grace."
Aemond's hand clutched yours as all eyes fell on your mother. Her jaw clenched as she looked around the room, fighting the tears as she looked at you and your siblings.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, "Let us prepare then."
The plan was set. Everyone knew their duties, their missions, and goals. But now they were no longer hypotheticals, they were happening. In real time.
You walked into your children's nursery, standing over their cradles as they slept soundly. Their frail chests rising and falling with their small breaths. The shuffling of armor pulling you from them.
Aemond stalked into the room, his hair tied back and his armor fastened against him. He joined your side at their cribs.
"It seems we spend more time saying goodbye to them than anything else," he spoke softly.
A slight chuckle left your lips, "It's just not fair."
"No it isn't," Aemond agreed.
"My mother was telling me about how protective she was over Jace and me when we were born. She said so many people knew the best way to hurt her was to hurt one of us," you stroked the soft silver fuzz on your twins' heads, "I usually don't like to admit when she's right," you both chuckled, "Our greatest weaknesses."
You felt Aemond's hand take yours, "And our greatest strengths."
You sighed, smiling up at your husband. His usual stoic exterior was soft as he smiled back, "Avy jorrāelan, Dārilaros Aemond." I love you, Prince Aemond.
Aemond kissed you softly, longingly, all his love pouring through. You pulled back, resting your foreheads together, "Avy jorrāelan, Dārilaros Y/N." I love you, Princess Y/N.
The bells of Dragonstone rang and you could hear the clamoring happening just outside. Neither of you wanted to move, neither of you wanted to accept the reality you were living.
One of the wet nurses entered, "Prince Aemond, Princess Y/N," she curtsied, "I've come to escort the children to the keep safe."
You both nodded, each of you taking a swaddle into your arms, careful to mind the armor you wore, "Goodbye, my sweetlings," you kissed their heads, tears staining the cloths they were bundled in, "I love you."
Both of your hearts sank as you handed the babies over to the young girl. No pain could ever compare to the idea of something happening to you or Aemond, something that would prevent you from watching your precious children grow. No pain except for someone hurting them instead.
"No one is ever going to harm them," it was as if Aemond read your mind, "We will see them soon."
You had just finished mounting your dragons. Your hand curled around the hilt of your sword, "Let us ensure it."
You exchanged small smirks with your husband before commanding your dragons to take flight. Ships, men, fires, dragons. Dragonstone had turned from a piece of Targaryen history to a Targaryen war zone. And now it was your turn to fight for everything you held most dear.
"Dracarys!"
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patheticdarling · 8 months
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Doubt
Summary: We all know how it went last time Steve fell in love, well everyone except Y/N, hence why she had no issue confessing her feelings to her boyfriend. But Steve’s anxiety has a habit of getting the best of him. 
Warnings: angst/relationship doubts/fluff/cussing
Word Count: 852
*NOT MY GIF*
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  “This is fucking insane,” Steve muttered as the two of you took your shift of watching Max for a portion of the night.
  You shook your head, “Poor Max. I can’t imagine how scared she must be. If we weren’t here, who knows-”
  “But we are here,” Steve reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.
  You exchanged small smiles as you laid your head on his shoulder. The two of you sitting in the comfortable silence as you looked over all the sleeping kids. 
  “Steve?” you whispered.
  “Yeah?” his voice low.
  You let out a soft sigh, “I love you.”
  Even if your head hadn’t been on his shoulder, you would be able to feel how tense Steve became at your words. And when another moment passed and he hadn’t said anything back, your heart sank to your stomach. 
  “I-I,” you struggled to figure out what to say next, “I’m sorry.” Before he could stop you, you were halfway up the basement stairs. 
  Steve tried to call out for you, causing some of the kids to stir a bit which made him quiet back down. He wanted to punch himself in the face for his reaction. He knew how he felt, why couldn’t he just say it?
  You found yourself seated on the front porch of the Wheelers’ house, small tears streaming down your face as you tried your best to cry quietly. 
  “Y/N?” you looked up and saw a very tired Robin with a blanket wrapped around her. 
  You quickly attempted to wipe away your tears, “Oh, hey, Robin,” you gave her a half-hearted smile, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
  “Nah,” she shook her head as she took a seat next to you, “Dustin’s snoring,” a small chuckle leaving both of you, “What’re you doing out here? And why’re you crying?”
  You let out a shaky sigh, “I told Steve I loved him.”
  “Oh,” she exclaimed before a smile spread across her lips, “It’s about time, really. I was wondering when one of you would finally just use the “L” word-” 
  “He didn’t say it back,” you cut her off, “You should’ve seen the look on his face, Robin. You would’ve thought I told him I was cursed too.” The tears built in your eyes again, “I thought he felt the same way. I thought he loved me. But I was wrong. God, I feel like such an idiot.” 
  “Hey,” she strung her arm around you, “You are not an idiot. Steve might be though. He does love you, Y/N. I know he does.”
  “Then why couldn’t he say it back?” you cried softly. 
  Robin sighed, “Y/N, how much did you know about Nancy and Steve’s relationship?”
  “What?” you were so confused, “Only a bit. I just knew they dated for a few months before they broke up and she got together with Jonathan.”
  “That’s the short version anyway,” Robin explained, “What drove their breakup and sort of pushed Jonathan and Nancy together was something a bit deeper.”
  “What happened?” 
  “Nancy didn’t love Steve. In some drunken stupor she basically told him that their whole relationship was bullshit and that them being in love was bullshit too,” your heart broke for Steve, knowing exactly how he must’ve felt, “The next day or something when Nancy was sober, Steve asked her if she loved him, and Nancy didn’t say it back. Then some time later, she ends up with Jonathan and you know that those two are definitely in love. Bottom line is, I think Steve is just scared that if he tells you that he loves you, you’ll end up thinking it’s all bullshit too.”
  You let out a heavy sigh, “I could never think that, Robin. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know that.”
  “Me neither,” a voice came from around the corner, Steve appearing in front of you and Robin. 
  She looked between the two of you, “Well, I think I should head back to bed,” she gave your shoulder a squeeze and a small smile before heading back into the house. 
  “I’m so sorry,” he muttered. 
  “Steve, you don’t have to-”
  “No, Y/N,” he cut you off, “Robin’s right, I’m a complete dingus. The only reason I couldn’t say it back was because I was terrified. Terrified that it was too good to be true. Terrified that the minute I told you how I felt, you’d leave. And if I lost you,” Steve choked back sobs, “I-I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t risk that.” 
  You brought your hand to his stubbled cheek, pulling his teary gaze to you, “I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise you.”
  Steve didn’t hesitate to pull your lips together, he had never felt safer than he did in your touch. Tears of relief leaving his eyes as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. 
  “I’m so sorry. I love you, Y/N. I love you. God, I love you so much,” Steve uttered and repeated like a prayer.
  You nodded, laughing with relief as the tears dried, “I love you, Steve.”
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patheticdarling · 8 months
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I am not meant for casual. I was born for soul crushing devotion.
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patheticdarling · 8 months
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The purest form of love is consideration. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel. Pays attention to detail. Holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you. In any bond, how much they care about you can be found in how much they consider you
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patheticdarling · 8 months
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Mad With Grief
Summary: Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon swore to avenge their son, Prince Lucerys. An eye for an eye. A son for a son. And now Prince Aemond and his sister-wife had to make the preparations for their eldest son's funeral.
Warnings: death/blood & cheese/mourning/death of a child/funeral/crying/depression/incest (Targaryen)/oc children of aemond & reader/suicidal undertones/possible hotd season 2 spoilers!
Word Count: 1861
*NOT MY GIF*
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You could not begin to describe the feelings that lingered throughout your body. It seemed as if your soul was detached from your physical being and now you were just a shell of a woman.
"There we are, Princess," your handmaiden finished applying your makeup. You struggled to move your eyes to the mirror in front of you. She had applied a generous amount to brighten up your colorless face, "As beautiful as ever."
You swallowed the lump in your throat, "Thank you," it was barely audible. "That'll be all for now."
She gave you a quick curtsy before gathering the mess and leaving the room. As soon as the door shut, you could no longer hold back the tears as they came pouring down. The sobs followed soon after and you had no care to conceal them.
It was said the night your son was slain that your cries of anguish shook the very walls of the Red Keep.
"Who are you?" you demanded. You didn't recognize the two men before you, instinctively shielding your children with your own body.
"Debt collectors," the smaller of the two men spoke up. "An eye for an eye, a son for a son. We only want the one, t’ square things. Won’t hurt the rest o’ you fine folks, not one lil’ hair. Which one you want t’ lose, Princess?"
All of the hairs on your body stood on end when you realized just what the men meant. Your husband had killed Lucerys and now, a debt was owed.
"No," you shook your head profusely as you pushed your eldest son behind you, your two younger children bundled in your arms, "Kill me instead. Please. I beg you. Don't hurt my children."
"A wife's not a son," the bigger man grunted, "It has to be a boy."
"Please," you continued to plead, your older son weeping as he clutched the skirts of your dress, "Not my boys. Rhaenyra would not want this. She has always been merciful, please."
"Your sister, the Queen, has lost far too much. Her father, her baby, and now her son. By your husband's hand, might I add. I don't think mercy is an option any longer." the smaller man explained.
"It was an accident," you muttered, "A horrible, regrettable accident. My husband may be guilty, yes. But my children are innocent. Please."
"We don't want to hurt you, Princess. But a debt is owed. Besides, you'll still have two more when it's done," the man used his blade to elude to your children, "So, I suggest you make your choice before we kill all three of them."
You fell to your knees, there was no way out of this. One of your boys had to die or you'd lose all three of your children. You looked at each of your sons, caressing their silver locks. You would never forgive yourself for this. "Mummy loves you."
You kissed the head of your youngest son before shakily handing him over to the men, sobbing as you watched him mockingly rock the year old babe.
"You hear that, little boy? the small man whispered to your son, "Your momma wants you dead."
And before you could register the evil grin he exchanged with the larger man, his blade had already murdered your elder son. You felt your heart stop beating before the most Earth-shattering sob left your lips.
Everything after that shifted into a gut-wrenching blur. You could not manage to feel anything other than pure and utter grief, like a dagger was constantly being driven through your heart with every breath you took. You could not bring yourself to eat, drink, or even bathe. Your mother, the Dowager Queen, urged you to stay strong for your remaining son and only daughter. But how could you even bear to look at him? You had named your year old son to die.
You had not seen your husband since. Part of you wanted what every woman wanted from their husband in times of grieving, a shoulder to cry on and a place to feel safe. And part of you couldn't even stomach the idea of seeing him, of knowing that he was partially to blame for the loss of your son.
A soft knock came to the door, "Y/N?" your mother's soft voice called into the room, she let out a heavy sigh at your sobbing figure, rushing over and wrapping her arms around you.
You fell into her touch. You never had the best relationship with your mother growing up but she loved your children nearly as much as you and Aemond did. It was her who looked in on your babies everyday since.
"My dearest girl," she sniffled as she stroked your hair, "Shhh, it's alright. I'm here."
"I cannot do this, Mother," you cried, "I-I cannot say goodbye to him so soon."
"He's in a better place, Y/N," she tried to soothe me, "Somewhere safe, where no one can ever harm him."
"They already harmed him. And I could not protect him. My husband was not here! I was alone-"
It was as if your words held magical intent within them. Your breath hitched in your throat as your husband walked into the room. Your mother helping you both to your feet.
She took in a deep breath, "I'll go see if the carriage is ready. Ring the bell if you need me," she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before moving to greet Aemond with a quick kiss on the cheek.
Your eyes remained locked with his until the minute the door clicked shut and suddenly you lacked the strength to stand once again. Your knees hit the floor as you broke back into sobs.
Aemond dropped everything and rushed over to hold you, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry," he muttered over and over again.
You couldn't help but cling to him, the contempt you held falling as you grieved your child together, "My sweet boy. My first baby boy."
"I will avenge him, I swear this to you, my love-"
"Avenge him?!" you nearly pushed him back and onto his ass as the blame you placed on your husband returned, "Your vengeance is the reason why Rhaenyra wanted one of our sons dead in the first place!"
Both of you now rose to your feet, "I told you it was an accident. I lost control of Vhagar and-"
"And now our son is dead," you concluded. Aemond's jaw clenched at your words. "Did they tell you what they made me do?"
"Y/N, we don't have to discuss this."
"Did they tell you, Aemond?" you reiterated, Aemond softly shook his head at your question, "They made me choose. Choose which of our sons to die. They said there was a debt to be paid. I begged them to kill me instead. But Rhaenyra wanted a son. Said they would kill all three of them if I didn't choose." Tears fell from Aemond's remaining eye as you continued to speak shakily, "And I named Jaehaerys. Our sweet baby. I thought perhaps he was too young to understand. And Viserys-" your voice caught in your throat at the mention of your late son, "He is our first son and the only heir until Helaena gives Aegon a son. And they butchered him like a sheep for slaughter."
"I never meant for any of this to happen, Y/N. And I will never forgive myself for letting them hurt you or our children."
"I have not been to the nursery since," you ignored his apologies, "How can I mother a child that I was willing to sacrifice? I shouldn't even be allowed to call myself a mother after what I've done."
"Y/N, you are the best mother and our children, they need you. Nobody else could raise them as admirably as you have."
You just shook your head as the bells of King's Landing rang in the background, "We must go. The funeral is starting."
Aemond tried to reach for your hand, "My love, we do not-"
You simply pulled away, not saying another word as you gathered yourself, ringing the bell for your mother and maids to return.
"Are we ready?" your mother asked, you simply nodded before taking her arm.
"Y/N, please," Aemond tried yet again to pull you back to him.
"Aemond," your mother cut him off, "That is enough. We must all be going now."
You could not recall the events of your son's funeral. Not the precession, the burial, the speeches, or even how you returned to the castle after. It felt as if it all took too much effort. Your children were your only reasons for living and yet you couldn't even bear to mother them as you wished. Because wanting was too much. You felt you didn't deserve to want any longer. Living was too much effort.
"Y/N!" your husband's horrified tone rang in your ears. Your mind finally registering what your body had done.
As you looked down at the perilous fall to the spikes that decorated the fall from the Red Keep. Your toes basically hanging off as you stood on the ledge.
"Please, darling," Aemond quietly begged, "We need you. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, they need you. I need you."
Matching streams of tears ran down both you and Aemond's cheeks. This is what it was to be mad with grief. To be so heartbroken that you cared so little about living.
You were sure the rest of your family was grieving your son as well. But not like this. None of them could even begin to fathom the thoughts or feelings you had, or did not have any longer.
"Y/N, please come down from the ledge," Aemond sobbed and begged. You had never seen him so broken, so fearful. And it might've been at that moment that you realized that Aemond might have been the only person in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms who shared in your despair. Strangely, that relieved you. To know you were not alone in your mourning.
Slowly and with Aemond's muttered encouragement, you stepped down and back onto the floor of your bedchamber. Aemond did not rush to put his arms around you or even rush over to you at all. He took quiet and calculated strides, the anguish that had built in his body at the thought of losing you, seemed to melt away with each step.
Though the tears still poured from both of you as he gently cupped your face in his hands, "I'm sorry, Aemond. Truly, I-"
"Shhh," his voice shook under the softness of his tone. Aemond softly pulled you into his embrace. His sobs muffled in your silver locks and yours muffled in his dark-green clad chest. The two of you gradually sinking to the floor, never loosening your grip on the other. The two of you quietly afraid of what might happen if you let the other go.
That maddening grief settled for a moment.
"We will avenge him."
Before taking over once again.
388 notes · View notes
patheticdarling · 10 months
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patheticdarling · 10 months
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one day you think: I want to die. and then you think, very quietly: actually. actually. I think I want a coffee. a nap. a sandwich. a book. and I want to die turns day by day into want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friend, I want to sit in the sun, I want a cleaner kitchen, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else. I want to live.
- via duckbunny
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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What Had to Be Done
 Summary: Reader and Aemond's new family is safe but for how long? The Greens are still plotting but Queen Rhaenyra is trying her best to avoid war at all costs. They must all figure out what must be done next.
Part III of the Traitors Series
Part I Here & Part II Here
Warnings: mentions of war/cussing/mentions of breastfeeding/knives & swords/injuries/blood/threats/dragonfire/death (non-canon)/ALL RIGHTS TO HBO/part 4...
Word Count: 6640
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     "You should remain abed, Y/N," your grandmother urged as your handmaidens helped you dress.
     You shook your head, "I've enjoyed my respite for long enough. My mother needs me. Daemon's temperament has only gotten worse since she let my husband stay. He's only going to keep pressuring her to pursue war."
    "What of your babies?"
    "My babies are perfectly fine," you finished lacing up your dress, "I'm still a princess and I have royal duties that need attending to."
   "Your husband has been sitting in on the council meetings, can he not just relay the information to you?"
    You chuckled as you took her hands, "Grandmother, I am well. And not only do I want to join in on the council meetings but I am needed to. So, I beg you, stop your worrying."
    She let out a sigh as she nodded, "As you wish. But if you feel tired or anything-"
   "Grandmother!"
   "Fine," she laughed a bit, "I'll stop. Take my arm and we can go together."
   You smirked at her a bit before taking her arm as the two of you headed to the Great Hall.
    "I meant to ask, Grandmother, how is the Sea Snake?" you asked as the two of you walked down the halls of Dragonstone.
    Just as she was going to answer, one of the servants ran up to the two of you, "Princess Y/N, Princess Rhaenys," he hurriedly bowed, "The Sea Snake, he seems to be regaining consciousness."
    Your grandmother's face beamed, "Go, Grandmother," you nudged her, "I can manage."
   She kissed your cheek, "If there's news-"
   "You'll let us know," you finished, "Now, go!"
    She quickly disappeared alongside the servant down the other end of the hall. You smiled to yourself at the hope of your grandsire waking up and being well. Your grandmother had only ever left his bedside to check on you or your cousins. She needed the peace of having her husband back, especially after all she had suffered. 
    "I should not say I am surprised to see you without an escort," you turned to see your husband with a quirked brow, "You never have taken my advice."
    You chuckled a bit as you approached, "That is because I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
   Aemond placed his hands on your waist as he kissed the top of your head softly, "However, as your husband and sworn protector, it is my royal duty to escort you to this council meeting."
   You took his arm, "Well, if it is the Queen's orders. And Gods help anyone who were to ever plan to defy those."
   The two of you arrived at the Great Hall, a majority of the council already there and discussing amongst themselves around the Painted Table. You greeted your mother with a curtsy and a bow before joining your brothers.
   Tensions were still present a bit but all of you had agreed to put it all behind you. Not for one another's sake but for your children's sake. Your brothers and cousins were their uncles and future aunts. Aemond was their father. All of that ranked above any childhood quarrel, no matter how deep the wounds cut.
   "Brothers," you nodded.
   Jace gave a curt nod, "Sister," he turned to Aemond, "Aemond."
    Aemond relaxed his tense jaw, "Jace," he turned to Luke, who had yet to make eye contact with your husband, "Luke."
   "A-Aemond," Luke stuttered as his eyes finally met Aemond's, "Sister, you're looking well."
   "As well as I can after just pushing two humans from myself," you joked.
   They all let out soft chuckles, "How are my niece and nephew?"
   "Sleeping. Milk drunk as the handmaidens like to call it," you smiled, "They seemed to have inherited their uncles' appetites."
  “They’ve got to eat so that they may grow to be formidable dragon riders someday,” Luke smiled. 
  Everyone continued to bicker around the Painted Table. Though your mother sat quietly, away from the commotion. You were about to move to speak with her when Ser Erryk began an announcement. 
  “The Lord of the Tides! Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen,” your grandsire hobbled down the steps on his cane, your grandmother by his side with Baela and Rhaena following. 
  “My lords,” your grandsire greeted as your cousins moved to stand by your brothers’ sides. 
  “Lord Corlys,” your own mother greeted, “It brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again.” 
  “I’m very sorry about your father, Princess,” he answered, “He was a good man.” There was a slightly awkward silence as Lord Corlys took in the room, “Where is Daemon?” Until then, you had not even taken note of your stepfather’s absence. 
  “There were other concerns which demanded the Prince’s attention,” your mother answered.
  “Mmm,” Lord Corlys grunted as he moved closer to the Painted Table, using his cane to point at the figurines on it, “Your declared allies?” 
  Your mother stepped closer to the table as well, “Yes.”
  “Too few to win a war for the throne,” your grandsire explained. 
  “Well, we would also hope to have the support of Houses Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark-”
  “Hope is the fool’s ally,” Lord Corlys cut in.
  “Both Arryn and Baratheon share blood with my house. But all of them swore oaths to me.” 
  “As did House Hightower, if I remember,” your husband stiffened at the comment as some of the lord's eyes flashed to him. You quickly took his hand, feeling him relax at your touch. 
  Your mother was quick to answer, “As did you, Lord Corlys.”
  Your grandsire’s eyes lingered on your brothers and cousins as they stood side-by-side. Even giving you and Aemond a curt nod as well. 
  “Your father’s realm was one of justice and honour. Our houses are bound by common blood and common cause. This Hightower treason cannot stand,” again Aemond’s hand tightened around yours, “You have the full support of our fleet and house. Your Grace,” your grandsire bowed.
  Your mother’s face looked the most hopeful it had been in days at Lord Corlys’ words, “You honour me, Lord Corlys,” she turned to your grandmother who gave her an approving smile, “Princess Rhaenys. But, as I said to my bannermen, I made a promise to my father to hold the realm strong and united. If war’s first stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand.”
  Your grandsire raised a brow, “You do not mean to act?” 
  “Taking caution does not mean standing fast. I wish to know who my allies are before I send them to war,” she explained. 
  Lord Corlys took steps around the Painted Table, “The consequence of my near-demise in the Stepstones is that we now control them. I took care to fully garrison the territory this time. A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be in place in days, if not already. The Triarchy have been routed. The Narrow Sea is ours. If we further seal the Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King’s Landing.”
  Your grandmother stepped in, “I shall take Meleys and patrol the Gullet myself.” 
  “When we drain the Narrow Sea, we can surround King’s Landing, lay siege to the Red Keep and force the Greens’ surrender,” Lord Bartimos explained. 
  “If we are to have enough swords to surround King’s Landing, we must first secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm’s End.” 
  “I’ll prepare the ravens, Your Grace,” the Maester nodded. 
  “We should bear those messages,” your older brother spoke up, “Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they’re more convincing. Send us.” 
  “The Prince is right, Your Grace,” Lord Corlys agreed. 
  “Wait,” you had stepped in, “The Greens are working a similar approach. We must consider their plans as well.” 
  “And what are these plans, Princess?” your grandsire asked. 
  Aemond stepped in, “My mother had planned to send me as an envoy, with the same ideas as Prince Jacaerys. My brother’s council had planned to annul my marriage to Princess Y/N and extend my hand to one of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters. He has four, all of them unwed. I abandoned those plans and came here, out of the loyalty and love I bear my wife.”
  “So, you are a traitor two times over?” your grandsire quipped. 
  “My husband was given a choice just as I was,” you had stepped in, “It may have taken him longer, considering he had to betray his entire family, including his mother who is only truly guilty of protecting her children and wanting best for them, just as my mother has always done for my brothers and I. He also had to abandon his sweet sister who has not only been there for him but for me as well and did not desire to see her husband on the throne anymore than any of us here,” Aemond placed his hand on your shoulder, ceasing your rant, “But at the end of it all, my husband chose to side with me. And swear to my mother as the rightful Queen.”
  Your grandsire sighed, “My apologies, Prince Aemond, and you as well, Princess Y/N,” attention now turned back to your mother, “What is to be done about this, Your Grace?”
  She took in your brothers and you knew what was going through her head. Jace and Luke were once her little boys and now she had no choice but to look at them as the honourable and brave men they had become. She had to look to you and no longer see the sweet little princess she had raised but a fiercely loyal grown woman. 
  “Very well,” she finally spoke, “Prince Jacaerys will fly north to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the north,” her eyes could not help but soften at your sweet younger brother, “Prince Lucerys will fly to the Eyrie, to see my mother’s cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn. And Princess Y/N will fly south to Storm’s End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. Prince Aemond, you will accompany her. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore. And the cost of breaking them.” 
  The meeting was adjourned as all of you gathered to leave. But before you could leave the Hall, Aemond had asked for an audience with your mother. 
  “Your Grace, I do not think it wise to send Princess Y/N on this mission,” he explained. 
  “Aemond, what are you talking about? I am perfectly capable of-”
  “Lord Borros is an extremely proud and stubborn man, Y/N. He may see us arriving together as an insult.”
  “We should take it as an insult that we have to remind these lords of oaths they swore as if they are toddlers needing discipline,” you argued, “Little Aegon and Viserys listen better than most of these insufferable-”
  “That is enough,” your mother cut in, “Prince Aemond, I understand your concern and I appreciate the care you have for my daughter. But sending the two of you together proves our strength. House Targaryen needs to be united during times like this. If the Lords of the Realm see that even Prince Aegon’s own brother is sworn to our cause, they may see why ours should be the one they back. Do you both understand?”
  You had both never considered just what your marriage meant. How great a deal it was for Aemond to swear fealty to your mother and proclaim her as the rightful heir. It made the Greens’ whole ploy look hopeless and it took away two of its greatest weapons, Aemond and Vhagar. If war were to start, the Greens’ dragons wouldn’t have a chance.
  “I only mean, Your Grace, that the Princess has just given birth mere days ago and I do not want her to go if she does not feel str-” Aemond stopped his explanation. The word he almost let slip is one of the many reasons for why this war was even afoot. 
  You let out a deep breath, “Mother, might we have a moment? There is something I must discuss with my husband.” 
  She nodded, “I expect to see the both of you and your brothers before you depart.” 
  “Yes, Your Grace,” you both nodded. 
  “Come along,” you linked your arm with Aemond’s, walking with him along the halls of Dragonstone. 
  The two of you stopped at the doors to your children’s nursery, you dismissed the maids so that it was just the two of you. Both of the babes fast asleep in their cradles. 
  You poured yourself a glass of wine before taking a seat in front of the crackling fire, “I want you to tell me the truth.” 
  “What do you mean?” Aemond asked as he joined you.
  “I want you to tell me the true reason why you do not want me to go with you to Storm’s End, Aemond. And please spare me the concerns of the aftermath of childbirth, I am more than aware of them myself.” 
  He sighed but kept his gaze fixated on the fire, a moment or two passed before he finally spoke, “We have both suffered loss after loss. Viserys, your sister, your father, Lady Laena, even Ser Vaemond. All of us. The blood of Old Valyria. The most revered people in all of Westeros and still, death came for us. Just as it does for everyone else.” 
  “Aemond-”
  “We have both mourned far too much, Y/N. And if anything were to happen to you or the children.To our family. I-I would never forgive myself,” his voice shook as he continued, sniffling a bit to mask the tears, “I know you are strong and I do not mean that as I once did. It is not a word that I use out of pettiness or spite but of one of admiration and respect. What I mean is that you are far stronger than I have ever been or ever could be. And it is I who does not know if I truly have the strength required to do this.” 
  You wiped the tears from your eyes as you stood up, Aemond’s face lowered at the ground as you knelt in front of him, taking his chiselled face into your hands, “The two of us have overcome more than most other marriages, I can assure you, and we have always come out better for it. That is because when one of us lacks something, the other is there to fill that space. When I was in labour with the twins, you were there to give me the strength that I believe I lacked. And my dear husband, I shall do the very same for you. I will be strong enough for the both of us just as you were.” 
  Aemond took your hands from his face, guiding the both of you to stand, “Ao kessa dōrī qringaomagon naejot amaze nyke, ñuha ābrazȳrys.” You shall never fail to amaze me, my wife.
  “Sȳrī, emi jiōraton naejot gaomagon bisa dīnilūks interesting, gaomagon īlon daor?” you smirked. Well, we have got to keep this marriage interesting, do we not?
  Aemond’s hands fell to your waist, pulling you closer as your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, “Avy jorrāelan, Dārilaros Y/N.” I love you, Princess Y/N.
  Your lips finally met his as your fingers intertwined with his long silver locks, pulling him even closer, “Se Avy jorrāelan, Dārilaros Aemond,” you muttered as the two of you pulled back. And I love you, Prince Aemond.
  Before the two of you could exchange another passionate kiss, slight coos came from the two cradles, “Looks like they’ve awoken just in time to say goodbye to us.” 
  Aemond smiled at you, “Well, we must not keep the Prince and Princess waiting.”
  The two of you each cradled one of the babes in your arms, rocking them softly back to sleep, “It is a wonder why children decide to inherit their father’s features as opposed to their mother’s. I mean we do carry them around for nearly nine moons. You would think they’d show some sort of appreciation.”
  Aemond let out a soft chuckle as he continued to rock your daughter, “Seems as though you may be projecting, my love.”
  You rolled your eyes at his teasing, “Just a bit. It certainly would have saved my brothers and I from a rather comment-filled childhood if we had inherited my mother’s features. Though I cannot say the same for you and your siblings.”
  “Though our children did inherit their mother’s unimpeachable beauty,” Aemond smiled.
  You blushed a bit as his comment, “This will be our first time away from them. I can already feel how much I am going to miss them.” 
  “As can I,” Aemond agreed, kissing your daughter’s head. 
  “I fear if we stay much longer, I won’t be able to leave them.” Aemond nodded as the two of you placed them back into their respective cradles, “Goodbye, my darlings.” You each gave them a kiss on their silver-fuzzed heads.
    The two of you quietly exited the nursery, preparing to meet your mother and brothers to exchange more farewells. You found your mother looking over the walls of Dragonstone alongside Ser Erryk. The sun setting on the horizon as the salty air grew cooler. Your brothers joined not too long after you and Aemond. 
  Your mother turned from the ledge, three scrolls of parchment in her hands, “It’s been said that as Targaryens, we are closer to Gods than to men. And the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But, if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms, we must answer to their Gods. If you take this errand, you go as messengers...not as warriors,” Luke flashed his worried eyes over to Jace, who tried to stand stoically, “You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now under the eyes of the Seven.”
  Luke was quick to put his hand on the book that Ser Erryk held, “I swear it.” 
  Jace hesitated for a moment before following suit, “I swear it.” 
  You and Aemond did the same, “I swear it,” you both uttered. 
  “Thank you,” your mother nodded to Ser Erryk who took his leave, “Cregan Stark is closer to your age than to mine. I would hope that, as men, you can find some common interest.” 
  Your mother handed Jace one of the scrolls, “Yes, Your Grace.”
  She gave him a small smirk before turning to Luke, “Lady Jeyne is cousin to your late grandmother and has always been one for supporting a woman’s right to rule. I expect you will receive a very warm welcome.” 
  “Yes, Mother. Y-Your Grace,” he corrected himself as your mother gave him a reassuring squeeze. 
  You stepped up, “Storm’s End is a short flight from here. You have Baratheon blood from your grandmother, Rhaenys. And Lord Borros is an eternally proud man,” she spoke with a slight sneer, “He will be honoured to host a princess and prince of the realm...and their dragons. You should also expect a kind welcome.” 
  “Yes, Your Grace,” you both nodded. 
  Your mother took you all in for a moment, a slightly proud smile on her face, “Go to it then.” 
  “I’ll meet you in the Dragonmont,” you excused yourself from Aemond’s side, “Your Grace?”
  Your mother stopped, “Yes, Princess?”
  You glanced over to Ser Erryk who nodded before walking off a few feet. You did not hesitate to throw your arms around your mother, “I know it is most improper but-”
  “Shh,” she hushed you, “It is alright.”
  You pulled away, letting her hold your hands tight, “Will you look after them while we’re gone?”
  She smiled, “It is not even a question, my sweet girl. But it is only a temporary situation. I expect you and Prince Aemond back as soon as possible. Or I shall fly to Storm’s End myself.”
  You nodded, “Of course, Your Grace.” 
  Your mother kissed your cheek, “Be safe, my love.”
  You met with all the others at the Dragonmont. You approached Rhaenys as she readied Meleys for their trip. 
  “I wish you good fortune, Princess Rhaenys,” you smiled. 
  She did not hesitate to pull you into a warm embrace, “No matter what anyone says, you will always be my granddaughter.” 
  You wrapped your arms tightly around her, “I hope to see you soon, Grandmother.”
  She gave you a reassuring nod before you walked to your brothers as they readied their dragons as well. 
  “I do hope you two can manage to stay out of trouble,” you teased. 
  Jace smirked as he adjusted the straps of Vermax’s saddle, “I don’t know how we’ll be able to do that without you talking us out of it.” 
  You all laughed, “Be safe,” you squeezed Luke’s arm, “And smart. Use those princely charms to your advantage.” 
  “Safe travels, Sister. Let us all hope to return with good news,” Luke smiled before embracing you quickly. 
  “I shall see you soon, little brother,” you kissed the side of his head before pulling away, “And you, Brother. I shall not bother the future heir to the throne with something as childish as a hug, he is far too stoic,” you teased.
  Jace shook his head before pulling you into his embrace, “Not when it comes to my family. Goodbye, little sister.”
  “Only by five minutes,” you winked as the two of you pulled away. 
  You waved to your brothers one last time before all of you finally mounted your dragons. Leaving the Dragonmont one by one as you all took to the sky. There was a deep growl as Seasmoke rose into the air. Aemond already seated on Vhagar as they circled above Dragonstone. 
  “To Storm’s End,” Aemond yelled from the back of the great dragon. 
  “Race you,” you smirked before flying off. You heard Aemond let out a curse in High Valyrian before following after you. 
  Storm’s End really did live up to its name as thunder and lightning cracked in the skies. Vhagar was much too big to be landed within the castle walls so you and Aemond elected to leave the dragons just outside of them. 
  The two of you approached the guards at the front gate, “I am Prince Aemond Targaryen and this is my wife, Princess Y/N Velaryon. We bring a message to Lord Borros from the Queen.”
  They gave a quick bow before escorting the two of you inside the castle. The guards led you to what you assumed was the Great Hall of Storm’s End However, it shocked you to see Otto Hightower as well as Ser Criston Cole already standing by Lord Borros as you entered. 
  You squeezed your hand against the arm you had linked with Aemond, “Seems, someone else was sent in your place,” you whispered. 
  “Mhm,” Aemond grunted. His grandsire raised a brow and sported a slight smirk at the two of you. 
  “Princess Y/N Velaryon, daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, and her husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen,” one of the Baratheon guards introduced. 
  “Lord Borros,” you approached, “I brought you a message from my mother, the Queen.” 
  “Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King,” Lord Borros explained as Otto Hightower smirked proudly, “Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.” He laughed mockingly, “What’s your mother’s message?”
  You said nothing as you handed the scroll to one of the guards, “I would think you should speak to your Prince and Princess with more respect, Lord Borros,” Aemond nearly scoffed. 
  “Lord Borros is our host,” Otto Hightower stepped in, “Should he not be treated with ample respect in his own home?” 
  Aemond moved to respond before you stepped in, “Apologies if my husband or I have offended you, Lord Borros,” he just grunted in response as the guard handed him the scroll, “As for you, Ser Otto, I think it’d be best if you only spoke when spoken to.” 
  “That is the Hand of the King, Princess, and you will address him as such,” Ser Criston uttered. 
  You kept your hand on Aemond, “Oh, is he? Without that shiny pin he usually wears, I was not so sure. Thank you for the clarification, Ser Criston. But as I was telling Ser Otto, I suggest you only speak once spoken to.” 
  Ser Criston cursed under his breath before Otto stepped in front of him, “That is enough,” Lord Borros interrupted as his Maester had finally arrived, he quickly read over the parchment before leaning over to whisper to his lord, “Remind me of my father’s oath,” the man all but growled, “King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will your brothers wed, girl?” 
  “You will address my wife by her proper titles, Lord Borros. I will only remind you of this once,” Aemond quickly corrected him. 
  You did not give them time to quarrel, “My lord, my elder brothers are not free to marry as they are already betrothed. My younger brothers are merely eight years and younger. We cannot offer you a marriage pact as of right now but we might-”
  “So, you come with empty hands,” Lord Borros scoffed, “It’s a funny thing. Prince Aemond, I had actually been awaiting your arrival rather than the Lord Hand. There was word that there was plan to annul your marriage to the Princess Y/N so you’d be free to marry one of my daughters.”
  Aemond shot a deathly glare to his grandsire, “A choice I would have never made, my lord. And with that being so, I assume my grandsire offered you my younger brother, Prince Daeron’s hand in my stead.” 
  “That he has. Your brother will have his choice of any of my daughters.”
  “I see. And you do understand that my brother is the third son. Set to inherit next to nothing. And if your goal is to provide an heir for Storm’s End, you do understand that even if my little brother were to sire a son from one of your daughters, they would bear the surname Targaryen. Storm’s End would no longer belong to the Baratheon name. Or there would be a fight for the succession. Either way, Baratheon blood wasted.”
  Lord Borros’ lips curled at Aemond’s words, “Go home. And tell your mother, Princess, that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.” 
  “We shall take your answer to the Queen, my lord,” you gave a curt nod before you pulled Aemond to follow you outside. 
  “At least your younger brother will be doing his duty and marry a true-born lady of the Realm,” Otto uttered as the two turned to leave. 
  Aemond’s hand curled around the hilt of his sword, Ser Criston and Otto Hightower doing the same. You followed suit as you tried to pull Aemond back. 
  “I dare you to say it again,” Aemond grunted as he stepped past you, nearly charging towards his grandsire.
  “Do not threaten the Hand, my Prince,” Ser Criston stepped up. 
  Aemond nearly towered over the knight, “We both know this would be little challenge for me, Cole.” 
  “Not here,” Lord Borros tried to intervene. 
  “Aemond, we swore we would not fight,” you approached, “We came as messengers, not warriors.”
  “Listen to your bastard wife-” Aemond did not let Ser Criston speak another word, he drew his dagger so fast that nobody had time to stop him before it was pressed to Ser Criston’s throat. 
  “I warned you,” Aemond spoke barely above a whisper, “Your last words will be an apology to my wife. Then I shall slit your throat to the bone and-”
  “Not in my hall!” Lord Borros’ voice boomed like the thunder outside, “You all came as envoys. I’ll not have bloodshed beneath my roof. Take Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N back to their dragons. Now.” 
  You nearly thought Aemond would still slit the knight’s throat but you knew he honoured traditions such as guest right as he spun the blade back and sheathed it onto his side. His body became slightly less tense as he linked your arms once again, ready to follow you out.
  You stopped before completely leaving the hall, “We shall expect a proper answer from you on the morrow, Lord Borros. My mother has set her terms as cordial as she could,” you explained, “But if you betray the House of the Dragon, you will pay in fire and blood.”
  The lord let out a huff before you and Aemond turned to leave. Ser Otto and Ser Criston both scoffing under their breath. Rain was now pouring down in gallons, the roars of the dragons barely audible above the storm. 
  “Are you mad?” you scolded him as the two of you trudged through the rain, “We promised my mother that we would not engage in anything like-”
  “I will not apologize for defending my wife’s honour. Especially by someone like that insufferable Cole,” Aemond spat.
  You stopped under a covering, the dragons roaring growing nearer, “I do not expect you to apologize. And I am not angry with you for why you did what you did. I just want you to realize that we are trying to do our duty, as my mother wanted us to. Without bloodshed.” 
  Aemond shook his head as he cupped your face with his hands, “This is war, my love. We may put off the bloodshed as long as we can but it will pour nonetheless.” 
  “My dear husband, you-” Suddenly a harsh shriek came from one of the dragons, “Seasmoke!”
  “Vhagar!” You and Aemond wasted no time as you ran towards them, nearly slipping due to the heavy mud. You could barely see the large beasts before a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, Seasmoke let out another ear-splitting roar that nearly overpowered the booming thunder. Ser Criston had driven his sword into the side of your dragon. 
  “You fucking bastard!” you were quick to draw your sword as you rushed towards the knight.
  Ser Criston had a smug grin on his face as he ran to meet you. Your sword clashing with his first, “Calling me a bastard, Princess? Humorous, don’t you think?”
  You nearly growled at his words as the two of you continued your fight, “You’re going to die for this, Cole.” 
  “Then I shall die proudly, knowing I was the first in this war to kill a Black dragon,” his comment had you seething with anger. So blinded by fury, it gave him the opportunity to slice your sword arm. You let out a hiss before he knocked you off your feet, he stood over you, turning his blade over in his hand, “And so will you,” he pulled back as you closed your eyes, preparing for the blade. 
  Your eyes shot open at the sharp cry Ser Criston let out instead, Aemond had cleanly cut the back of one of Ser Criston’s legs, forcing him to his knee. 
  “Are you alright?” he helped you from the ground.
  You groaned a bit, “I’ll be fine.” Aemond inspected your wound before kneeling and cutting the end of your dress, taking the cut fabric and wrapping it around the cut.
  “We’ll have the Maester properly see to it as soon as we get back,” Aemond reassured you, kissing your head.
  “Thank you, my love,” you gave a small smile.
  Ser Criston scoffed as he struggled in an attempt to stand, “Disgusting.” Aemond wasted no time in cutting his other leg, the knight tumbling down. 
  Aemond wiped his dagger on the end of his coat, “I told you that a fight would be little challenge, Cole. And so you went for my wife instead. Tsk,” your husband shook his head, “A foolish mistake on your end, I think you can agree.”
  Ser Criston’s chest heaved as he tried to conceal his wincing, “I-I once thought you an ally, my Prince. A friend even,” he grunted as he continued to speak through the pain, “But now I see, your cunt of a wife has you in an even tighter grip than we all thought.” 
  Again, Cole found Aemond’s dagger pressed against the skin of his throat, “I could kill you for saying that.”
  “Then do it,” the knight hissed.
  Aemond let out a light chuckle, “Unfortunately, your fight was with my wife. She has the final say on what happens to a craven like you.” 
  You lifted a brow at the knight, “Not so smug now, are we?” Ser Criston simply sneered at your words, “You know what, Husband?”
 “Yes, my love?” Aemond kept the dagger to Cole’s throat.
  “It has been a while since either of our dragons have eaten a knight,” you smirked, “And after all they’ve been through, I think they deserve a reward.” 
  Ser Criston tried to hide the fear behind his eyes, Aemond smirked as well, “Excellent idea. Get up,” he practically dragged Ser Criston to where the dragons were. You went to Seasmoke’s side, he seemed to check in on your wound as you did the same. 
  “Dragon-hide is a lot harder to pierce than you’d expected,” you chuckled. He had barely broken the top layer of skin, only causing a bit of discomfort to your dragon, who growled deeply at the scent of the knight’s blood, “Besides, Seasmoke is already a tough dragon as is.” You stroked his scales. 
  Aemond threw Ser Criston to the ground in front of Seasmoke, “I think Seasmoke deserves this one all to himself. I’m sure Vhagar won’t mind.” 
  “Y-You’re just like your mother,” the knight grunted.
  You smirked, chuckling softly, “If it were anyone else telling me so, I’d take the compliment graciously. But coming from you-”
  “The two of you. Spoiled cunts,” he spat. 
  You smiled at your husband, as Seasmoke growled and hissed at Ser Criston, “I’m glad you’ll die knowing you were the first man in this war to be killed by a Black dragon.” 
  “You bast-”
  “Dracarys,” you instructed. Seasmoke wasted no time in coating the knight in dragon fire. Ser Criston screaming as they consumed him before the only sound left was the heavy rain and Seasmoke pulling the burned body apart and devouring it. 
  “So much for avoiding bloodshed,” Aemond teased as Seasmoke finished up the last of the burnt knight. 
  You chuckled a bit, “Not my fault. Ser Criston has never been the biggest fan of mine.” 
  “If the rumours hold true, I’d say it’s because you look a bit too much like your mother.”
  “Cunt-struck men,” you scoffed.
  You suddenly found Aemond’s hands pulling you in from your waist, “We’re not all bad.”
  The two of you smirked at one another, “I suppose not.” A small but fiery kiss was exchanged before the two of you mounted your dragons. Aemond helping you onto Seasmoke’s back so as to not further anger either of your injuries. 
  Landing back on Dragonstone, you took note that you were the first to return. Feeding the dragons extra rations before heading into the castle. Your mother greeted the two of you eagerly. 
  “Y/N?” she nearly ran to you, examining your arm, “What happened? Are you both alright?”
  You gently removed yourself from her grip, “I’m alright, Mother,” you gave her a reassuring smile, “But we have news.”
  “W-What is it?” she asked, worry in her voice still. 
  “Negotiating with Lord Borros proved to be a bit more difficult than any of us anticipated,” you began to explain. 
  “Did he reject our terms?” your mother asked. 
  You let out a sigh, nodding, “Yes, but that’s not all.” 
  “It seems the Greens did not mourn the loss of Aemond and Vhagar for long. Otto Hightower and Ser Criston Cole were already there when we arrived. They had apparently come with a marriage pact, promising Prince Daeron to any one of Lord Borros’ daughters that he desired.” 
  “And Lord Borros thought their offer the better one?”
  Aemond nodded, “Yes, Your Grace. However, we told Lord Borros the truth of the matter. My brother’s council is not to be trusted. Upon leaving, the Princess saw it fit to give the lord till the morrow for a legitimate answer lest he be answered with the true and unforgiving nature of House Targaryen. My grandsire and Ser Criston thought it wise to make comments about not just the Black Council but personal attacks towards the Princess and I. We still continued to uphold the oath we made to you, my Queen. But as we made way to the dragons, Ser Criston had driven his blade into Seasmoke.” 
  “Gods,” she gasped, “Is he-”
  “Seasmoke is perfectly fine. Ser Criston underestimated the strength of dragon-hide,” you explained, “However,” you hesitated.
  “Did something else transpire?” your mother asked. 
  “Seasmoke is my dragon, he protects me. And as his rider, it is my duty to do the same.”
  “What did you do, Y/N?”
  “Your daughter only did what was necessary, Your Grace,” Aemond interjected, “And if we are speaking technically, she wasn’t the one who killed Ser Criston.” 
  “Killed?! You were to avoid bloodshed. You swore an oath-”
  “I was protecting my dragon! Ser Criston attacked the both of us. I had no choice, Mo-” her stern gaze made you quick to correct yourself, “Your Grace. I believe you would have done the same had someone attacked Syrax. Just as Jace or Luke would do for Vermax or Arrax. Or Baela with Moondancer. Or Aemond with Vhagar. All of our dragons would live or die for us. Why should we not do the same?”
  She gritted her teeth before letting out a heavy sigh, “I suppose I can see your point, Princess,” you sported a relieved look, “However, you still disobeyed your Queen’s orders. The two of you are to stay here, on Dragonstone. Lord Borros has received our message so there is nothing more for the two of you to do. I suggest you take this time to spend with your children. The first stroke of war has been cast. Our time together is even more limited than before.” 
  You both gave curt nods, “Yes, Your Grace.” 
  Your mother grabbed your hand quickly, turning you back toward her, “And see to that wound,” her voice sweet, “I’ll have the Dragonkeepers see to Seasmoke’s as well.”
  You exchanged soft smiles as she gave your hand a final squeeze before you left to follow after Aemond. The two of you decided to heed your mother’s advice, first visiting the Maester so he could tend to your cut before making your way to the nursery. 
  “You three were all I thought about when he stood over me,” you muttered softly as you rocked your daughter in your arms.
  “How do you mean?” Aemond whispered, his brow raised. 
  “When Ser Criston stood over me, his blade mere inches away from my heart. And all I could think about was who was going to take care of the three of you if I died?”
  “Y/N-”
  “I thought I was strong enough to do this but,” your voice cracked as the tears welled in your eyes, “How could I be so selfish?”
  Aemond let out a deep breath as he brought you into his embrace, “My love, you left to go defend this family. To defend our children. And you nearly sacrificed yourself to do so. I have never met anyone as selfless as you are, Y/N.”
  “We cannot protect them forever, Aemond,” you sniffled. 
  Your husband wiped your tears away with his thumb as he cradled your face, “Then we will die trying.”
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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part 3 of “traitors”!!
hi my loves! i just wanted to let you all know that a part 3 to the “Traitors” mini-series is currently in the works!! & i am making this post for any of you who might like to be added to the taglist for it :) so feel free to interact with this post in anyway & also, if you have any suggestions for what you’d like to see in part 3, message me! some of you had really great suggestions last time. hope to hear from you all soon <3
Part 1 Here: Traitors
Part 2 Here: Decisions
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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Hi thank you for the link 😊 every time I reblog it it doesn’t appear in my page also I look it up in your page and it’s not there
it seems that Tumblr put a "Community Label" on Decisions but i did ask for a second review because i did not think that the post had anything overly explicit and i provided warnings for the possible triggers. so we'll see what happens. but hopefully adding the link to these question & answer posts will help. thanks so much for letting me know!
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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Hi is Decisions part 2 of traitors?
hi love ! yes it is :) i’ll add the link for you here & i hope you enjoy !
Decisions
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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Hi, I'm totally new to your blog, but would you be able to add me to the Traitors taglist? I love HoTD content, and this was recommended for me when I open up Tumblr, and now I'm hooked!!
hi love ! of course, i can & i’m really happy that you enjoyed it :) i believe i added you to the Part 2 taglist ! lmk if it works !
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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Decisions
Part II of Traitors
  Summary: Princess Y/N Velaryon & her grandmother, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen have now successfully fled the capital and have just landed on Dragonstone to warn her mother, Queen Rhaenyra, of the inevitable war to come. Princess Y/N is faced with the toughest of decisions. 
  Warnings: ANGST/switched povs (aemond’s + reader’s)/cussing/crying/swords/pregnancy/mentions of miscarriage/childbirth/talks of war/burning bodies/ALL RIGHTS TO HBO…possible part 3 👀
  Word Count: 5770
*NOT MY GIF*
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*Y/N’S POV*
   The two of you had made it to Dragonstone safely and quickly. Luckily, the Greens were too busy readying everything for Aegon’s coronation that they hadn’t been prepared for a stunt like the one you and your grandmother pulled. You should’ve been happy as you dismounted Seasmoke, your feet landing on the soft sands of Dragonstone’s beaches. 
  “Are you alright?” your grandmother asked, rushing to check you over. 
  You pulled your hands from hers, “I’m fine.” A lie. You both knew it. You had just abandoned the love of your life and it wasn’t even your choice.
  She pushed your hair behind your ear, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. If it could be another way-”
  “But it cannot,” you cut her off, “Let us go. I’m already dreading telling my mother the news.”
  Your grandmother sighed, “Which do you think will upset her more? That her father’s dead or that her stepmother and siblings have betrayed her and usurped her throne?”
  “Gods be good,” you muttered as the two of you began your climb up the long steps of Dragonstone. Your swollen feet would’ve given out had it not been for your grandmother lending you an arm. 
  It had been a while since you’d been to Dragonstone, your mother had taken all of you there to live shortly after Joffrey was born. You had returned to King’s Landing for your wedding when both you and Aemond came of age then you didn’t see your mother until just recently when she came to defend Luke’s right to Driftmark and simultaneously announced your two eldest brothers’ engagement to your younger cousins, Baela and Rhaena. It almost seemed foreign to you even if you had spent most of your early childhood here. 
  “Princess Y/N, Princess Rhaenys,” Ser Lorent greeted you, “We weren’t expecting you. And on dragon back no less.”
  “We need an audience with Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon immediately. It is a matter of extreme urgency,” your grandmother explained. 
  He gave a curt nod, “Follow me.” He led the two of you through the gates as you waddled and held close to your grandmother. He stopped before a set of doors, “One moment.”
  Ser Lorent slipped into the room. You waited for a few moments before he returned, “They’ll see you now.” 
  You followed him once more into the Great Hall of Dragonstone, “The Princess Y/N Velaryon and the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.”
  “Y/N,” your mother beamed at you. You practically ran into her arms. You laughed as your swollen bellies collided a bit, “You’re glowing. Motherhood becomes you.”
  “You as well, Mother,” you smiled back before letting out a soft sigh.
  “Princess Rhaenys,” she greeted your grandmother, “Might we hope for news of Lord Corlys’ recovery?”
  “Viserys is dead,” she replied rather bluntly. 
  “Grandmother,” you snapped at her slightly. 
   Your mother’s welcoming grin had fallen as Daemon’s head whipped around, “I grieve this loss with you, Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father, possessed a kind heart,” your grandmother walked closer, “There is more,” your mother’s hand tightened around yours as tears built in not just her eyes but yours as well, “Aegon has been crowned as his successor.”
  A soft wince left your mother as she dropped your hand to cradle her stomach slightly, “They crowned him?” her eyes nearly vacant as the tears slid down her cheeks. 
  “How did Viserys die?” Daemon asked as he leaned himself and Dark Sister against the Painted Table. 
  “I could not say,” Rhaenys sighed.
  Your mother’s voice quivered, “How long ago?”
  “A day past, perhaps two,” your grandmother answered, “Y/N and I were made prisoners in our quarters while the Queen made her preparations.” 
  “Viserys has been slain,” Daemon asserted. 
  “Alicent demanded you both declare for Aegon,” she looked between you and your grandmother. 
  “She did,” your mother’s brow raised at your grandmother’s answer. 
  “We refused her,” you cut in.
  “And yet you are alive,” Daemon had a teary glare set on the two of you. 
  “The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit,” Rhaenys explained. 
   “We witnessed it ourselves just before we fled on Meleys and Seasmoke,” you continued.
  “They crowned him before the masses,” your mother’s voice filled with agony as her hand clutched the end of the table. 
  “So that the masses would see him as their rightful king,” you clarified.
  Daemon’s voice full of anger, “That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne. And you both could have burned them all for it.”
  “A war is like to be fought over this treachery, to be sure,” Daemon nodded slightly with a grunt, “But that war is not mine to begin. Nor is it Y/N’s. I only rushed this warning to you out of loyalty to my husband and to my house.”
  “The Greens are coming for you, Mother,” you added, “And for my brothers and for me and my baby.”
  “You should leave Dragonstone at once,” Rhaenys turned to leave.
  Tears fell from her eyes before a sharp gasp left her mouth, one of her hands clutching her belly and the other on the table for support. All of you turning to her, concerned. 
  “Mother?” you put your hand to her back as she keeled over, “What is it?”
  She quickly folded up the ends of her dress, sticking her hand up the ruffles. A soft gasp left your mouth at the sight of her bloodied fingers, “The babe is coming.” 
  “Maester!” you cried out, “Get the Maester! Now!” The guards in the hall rushed out, Daemon and you moved to support your mother. The Maester met you outside of her chambers. 
  “We’ve got her,” he reassured you. 
  “Mother, are you sure-”
  “Get out!” she practically shrieked. You and Daemon were quick to listen and scurried off. 
  “Where are my brothers?” you asked him, practically running to keep up with him as he stormed through the halls. 
  “Your grandmother has already gone to fetch them from the beach,” Daemon’s voice curt. 
  “Daemon,” you stopped him, “There was nothing we could have done.”
  “Don’t,” he cut you off, “Rhaenys, I understand. She’s never been the biggest adversary to your mother or to me. But you? They stole your mother’s birthright and you just let them-”
  “I did not! I was made a prisoner. The Queen only kept me alive so she could use me as a political bargaining tool to get my mother to bend the knee! And yet I refused her even when she assured me that no harm would come to any of you if I bowed to Aegon.”
  Daemon scoffed, “The One-Eyed Prince must really have you wrapped around his finger.”
  “I beg your pardon?” you hissed, “Do not speak of my husband in-”
  “Your husband is a traitor. And do you know what happens to traitors, Princess?” your jaw clenched at his words, “They die. Screaming.” 
  “My husband had no choice, just as I did,” you spat.
  Daemon scoffed, bordering on a chuckle, “You just keep telling yourself that.”
*AEMOND’S POV*
  “Aemond, please, stop pacing,” Alicent groaned, “Drink some water and-”
  “Water?” Aemond scoffed, “Will water bring my pregnant wife back to me, Mother? Will water ever convince her to forgive me? Or me to forgive her? Tell me, Mother. Will it?”
  Alicent sighed, “I only meant that you need to ease your mind, darling. Your grandfather has already gone to give Rhaenyra the terms of surrender. No harm will come to any of them, especially not to Y/N.” 
  “You don’t know that,” he shook his head, “She is going to be surrounded by people who only thirst for the throne, no matter the cost. It was my job to keep her safe and now I cannot even do that. My child will be fatherless and-”
  “Your child will not be fatherless because they will have a father,” the Queen Mother cut in as she took her son’s hands in her own, “You will be there to father your child, Aemond. Rhaenyra will agree to Aegon’s terms because it is the best thing for the Realm and all will be as it was.” 
  Aemond’s hands fell from his mother’s, “It will never be as it was. My wife and child are lost.”
  “That’s not true, Aemond,” Alicent sniffled.
  “It is, Mother. I will have to learn to accept it. Live with it. I have duties to this family and I cannot allow my judgment to be clouded.”
  The Queen Mother was taken aback by her younger son’s words. She had never seen Aemond happier than when he was with Y/N and she nearly wept tears of joy at his excitement to become a father. But that light in his eyes was dwindling and it broke her heart to know that she was partly to blame. 
  She cleared her throat, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes, “We need to send terms to the larger houses first. Stark, Tully, Baratheon. Lord Borros Baratheon seems an ideal man to-”
  “I will fly to Storm’s End myself,” Aemond cut in, “Lord Borros has four unmarried daughters. We could promise Daeron to at least one of them.”
  Alicent nodded in agreement, “Yes, we could. But Aemond, I only want you to go if you feel-”
  “I leave on the morrow,” he answered quickly before leaving his mother’s chambers. 
  The One-Eyed Prince had chosen to stuff his feelings away, not only from others like his mother, but from himself as well. Aemond had forced himself to face the belief that he would never see his wife again, would never kiss her or hug her. And that his child would never meet him and he’d never get to hold them or watch them grow. His entire heart was gone.
*Y/N’S POV*
  The wind carried off the dark smoke of the funeral pyre. You wept softly with your brothers as the flames cradled your late baby sister, who your mother had lovingly named Visenya, after Aegon the Conqueror’s fierce sister-wife. 
  “This was not supposed to happen,” you sniffled.
  Your twin brother, Jacaerys sighed, “No, it wasn’t. First, they killed Grandsire and now our sister. The Greens will pay for this.” 
  “Jace,” Luke whispered, “Not here. Not now.” 
  The attention was drawn away from the funeral pyre as a member of Viserys’ former Kingsguard approached your mother. He removed his helm, revealing Ser Erryk, your saviour back in King’s Landing. You turned to your grandmother who already held a small smirk on her face. 
  Ser Erryk removed your grandsire’s crown from his bag and knelt before your mother, “I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength and give my blood for hers,” he began to recite the Kingsguard vows as Daemon took the crown from him, “I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honour,” Ser Erryk finished. 
  Daemon approached your mother before gently placing the crown onto her head and falling onto his knee, “My Queen.” 
  The rest of you followed suit, slowly bending the knee to your new Queen. You held Joffrey’s hand as you guided him down with you and your older brothers. Everyone was then instructed to gather in the Great Hall to await the arrival of your mother. You elected to walk alongside your brothers and cousins. 
  “She was born to wear that crown,” you spoke proudly.
  Luke smiled slightly, “Grandsire would have been proud.”
  “Not if what the Greens claim is true,” Jace scoffed, “He would have rather seen Aegon bearing it apparently.”
  “Jace,” you snapped at him, “Our mother is the rightful Queen. No one here thinks otherwise. The Greens will be dealt with when the time comes.” 
  “And what of your husband, Y/N?” Rhaena had cut in.
  You had not thought about Aemond after the events with your mother, “I am not sure, Rhaena. What happens to him will not be up to me but to our Queen.”
  “And what if she wants them all dead?” Baela asked, “That seems to be the customary punishment with traitors. Aemond is a traitor, is he not?”
  You swallowed hard as you fidgeted with your wedding ring, “I know you’d all prefer it that way,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes, “Aemond, good and dead. Vhagar free for Rhaena to claim, as it should have been, right?” They all stood silent, “I know you all hate him and I know you all have good reason to. But he is still my husband. The father of my child. And the man that I love. So, my apologies if talk about murdering him does not bring me as much joy as it does to you.”
  “Y/N, that is not-”
  “It’s alright, Luke,” you cut him off, “I do not wish to discuss it further. It is time for us to hear from our Queen.” 
  You turned, walking ahead of them towards the Great Hall. The rest of the lords and ladies congregated around the Painted Table as it lit up in all its glory. Rhaena had become your mother’s designated cupbearer and waited near the top of the table, Baela joining your grandmother’s side while you and your brothers walked to the far end of the table. 
  Your mother, accompanied by some of her Queensguard entered the room as Daemon moved to introduce her, “Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” All of us bowed to her, “Your Grace.” 
  Rhaena approached her, “Wine, my Queen.”
  Your mother kindly took the goblet, “Thank you, Rhaena. Come,” she nodded for both your cousins to join at the table. There was a slight awkwardness that filled the air as you all stood around. Your mother looked uncomfortable, “What is our standing?” she asked. 
  “We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men at arms,” Daemon answered, “Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves a lot to be desired. We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I’ll have some support there, but I cannot speak to the numbers.”
  “We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon,” the Maester explained as Jace placed the pieces onto the table. 
  “My lady mother was an Arryn,” your mother pointed to the Eyrie on the table, “The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin.”
  “Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, Your Grace,” the Maester noted, “With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I’ve already sent ravens to Lord Grover.”
  “Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed,” your mother huffed, “He will need to be convinced of the strength of our position and that we will support him should it come to war.”
  “I’m going to treat with him myself,” Daemon answered. 
  “What of Storm’s End and Winterfell?” Lord Steffon Darklyn asked. 
  “There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath. And with House Stark, the North will follow,” Lord Bartimos Celtigar answered him. 
  “Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father’s promises,” your mother declared before turning to your grandmother, “What news from Driftmark?”
  “Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone,” Rhaenys answered.
  “To declare for his Queen,” Daemon interrupted. 
  “The Velaryon fleet is in my husband’s yoke. He decides where they sail,” she rebutted.
  “We shall pray for both you and your husband’s support,” your mother stepped in, “Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake’s return to good health. There’s no port on the Narrow Sea that would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet,” she turned back to the table, “And our enemies?”
  “We have no friends among the Lannisters,” Daemon explained, “Tyland has served the Hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet.” 
  “Without the Lannisters we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth,” your mother concluded. 
  “No,” Daemon was quick to disagree, “The Riverlands are essential, Your Grace.” 
  “Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace, but talk of men is moot,” one of the lords spoke up, “Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons.”
  Your mother was a bit stunned at first, “The Greens have dragons as well.” 
  “They have three adults, by my count,” Daemon was again one of the first to speak up, “We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys,” your grandmother scoffed under her breath at the mention of her dragon, “Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Your daughter has Seasmoke. Baela has Moondancer.”
  “Daemon, none of our dragons have been to war,” your mother argued.
  “There are also unclaimed dragons,” Daemon ignored her as he continued, “Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.”
  “And who is to ride them?” your mother asked. Oddly one of her messengers rushed up the stairs, Ser Erryk going to meet him.
  “Dragonstone has thirteen to their four. I also have a score of eggs incubating in the Dragonmont,” Daemon continued, “Now, we need a place to gather, a toehold large enough to house a sizable host,” he placed a piece down, “Here, at Harrenhal. We cut off the west, surround King’s Landing with the dragons. And we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.”
  Your mother’s jaw tensed at Daemon’s attitude before Ser Erryk interrupted, “Your Grace, a ship has been sighted offshore: a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon.”
  Daemon was quick to move, “Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies,” he snatched Dark Sister from the table. The guards, your mother, and Daemon went to go meet with whomever washed up onshore. You knew Aemond had not accompanied them, he would’ve rode in proudly on Vhagar. 
  You were sitting in your chambers, reading an Old Valyrian story and humming softly to your bump, “Ahem,” you looked up to see Jace and Luke standing in the doorway, “May we come in?”
  You nodded, “Yes,” placing down your book and standing from your seat, “What is it?”
  “We just wanted to apologize for earlier,” Luke answered, “We should not-”
  “Not we,” Jace stopped him, “Me. I know what you did couldn’t have been easy, Sister. And I apologize for my lack of empathy. I should have been more understanding of your situation.”
  You sighed, “It’s alright. I know your past with Aemond is not a pleasant one,” Luke shifted uncomfortably, “But it is the past. We have grown. We’re not the same people, we’re not children anymore. And whatever is about to happen to all of us is larger than some childhood quarrel. I just want you to both understand that.”
  “We do,” Luke nodded, “I’ve wanted nothing more than to put all that ugliness on Driftmark behind me. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did and I know Aemond won’t either. But, that does not mean we should dwell on it. He is my brother-by-law and the father of my future niece or nephew.”
  “You’re a good man, Luke,” you smiled at him, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze. 
  “Man?” Jace chuckled, “He’s still a boy.” You both rolled your eyes at his lame teasing, “But, he is right. We care about you and the baby far more than some fight from years ago.” 
  You reached over and gave his hand a squeeze as well, “Thank you, brothers. This talk meant a lot to me.”
  “You’re our sister, Y/N. We love you,” Luke smiled softly. 
  “I love you both,” you hugged them, “I just wonder what the next step is.”
  “As do we,” Jace agreed, “The Greens are wise enough to know that they are outnumbered when it comes to dragons. Ships are another thing. Without Grandsire’s fleet, we’re left to whatever men we have on land.” 
  “Grandsire is a loyal man. House Velaryon is not fickle,” you explained.
  There was word that your mother and Daemon had returned from their meeting with the Greens. Otto Hightower, himself, had presented Aegon’s terms of surrender to your mother. All the lords who backed your mother continued to argue back and forth on what should be done next, Daemon and your mother especially bumping heads on the matter. Your paternal Grandsire, Lord Corlys, had finally landed on Dragonstone but he was still weak and needed his rest. You opted to walk the halls of the castle in an attempt to ease your own worries. 
  “Y/N,” you turned to see your mother walking towards you. 
  “Mother,” you greeted as she joined your side, “How are you? Is Daemon-”
  “Fine,” you could always tell when she lied but you decided not to push the matter further, “And Princess Rhaenys is with Lord Corlys as we speak,” she stopped the both of you, taking your hands, “How’re you, my sweet girl? I feel that with everything that has been happening, I have neglected to check in on you and your condition.” 
  You caressed your belly, “I’m alright. Just a lot on my mind, I suppose.” 
  “That is understandable. You have been through quite a lot in the past few days. But,” she moved to pull something from her pocket, “Perhaps this will help put your mind at ease.” she extended a letter to you, the Targaryen wax seal still unbroken around it, “Otto Hightower brought it with him. He told me that it was for you, from Prince Aemond.” 
  Your breath caught in your throat, “Aemond?” you practically choked out as you stared at the letter in her hands, “Did he say anything else? What it might be about or-”
  She shook her head, “Only that it be delivered to you directly and urgently.”
  You fidgeted with your wedding ring, wondering whether or not you should take it, “I..” you could barely find your words. 
  “Y/N,” she took the ringed hand you had been fidgeting with, “Take it.”
  “But, what if he wants me to come back? Or worse, what if he never wants to see me again? I-I wouldn’t know what-”
  “You won’t know what to do until you read the letter,” she cut you off, “So,” she placed it into your hands, “Go to your chambers. Read it. Then decide.”
  You nodded, “Yes, Moth- sorry. Yes, Your Grace.” 
  She caressed your cheek, “I am still your mother. Doesn’t matter if I wear a crown or not,” she kissed your head, “Now go.”
  You let out a deep breath before heading towards your chambers. Shutting the door behind you as you finally broke the wax seal and unrolled the parchment. Immediately recognizing the neat cursive that he had always worked so hard to perfect because “how will I ever be taken seriously if I write like a seven-year-old?”
My Dearest, Y/N,
I know you little thought to hear from me. I little thought to even be writing this letter in the first place. However, I knew I needed to because there is so much I need to say. 
I miss you, my wife. My true family. And I know you could probably never bring yourself to forgive me and I cannot say I blame you. I know my decision broke your heart just as yours did mine. I should not have made you choose. And I know we are both in an impossible situation. But I believe I may have found a solution to these problems. 
Tonight, at the hour of the wolf. Meet me on the far side of Dragonstone, away from the guards and the castle. Come alone and tell no one. 
All My Love, 
Your Husband, Aemond
  You continued to re-read it as hundreds of questions flooded your mind. What did he mean by solution? What if this was some sort of trap set by the Greens? What if this wasn’t from Aemond at all? And none of them could be answered if you didn’t listen to the instructions. 
  Even if you told your typically understanding family, war was afoot. Even if your mother trusted it, Daemon would never. He’d go to meet Aemond himself, Dark Sister in hand. Telling anyone was not an option. Once again, you had no choice. 
  The darkest time of night came faster than you would have hoped for. You paced your chambers for quite a while, spinning your betrothal ring over and over as you did. You nearly jumped whenever you heard guards or servants pass by your door. And before you could think twice, you had thrown on your cloak and boots before walking out of your chambers. 
  You tried to conceal your face with your hood as you hurried through the empty halls of Dragonstone. The sound of your heels against the cobblestone echoed throughout them. You continued a quick pace, well as quick as you could go at nearly eight months pregnant. 
  “Y/N?” a voice called from behind you.
  You turned to see your mother, “Mother,” you gave her a nod, “Good evening.”
  She raised a brow at you, “Where are you off to? It is quite late.”
  You stuttered a bit before finding your words, “I was just going on a walk. It has been quite hard to find sleep in these last few months of pregnancy.” 
  She smiled softly, “It was the same for me when I was pregnant with you and Jace. I suppose it must be first-time mother worries and such. Would you like me to ring for a servant? Perhaps they could give you something to help you sleep.” 
  You shook your head at her offer, “It’s alright. I’ve found that evening air has been the best remedy thus far.” 
  “Alright,” she nodded, “Be careful. Be sure to find sleep at some point. There is another small council meeting tomorrow and your attendance is needed.”
  “Your Grace,” you smirked as you curtsied. 
  “Good night, sweet girl,” she smiled before turning to her own chambers. You waved her goodbye before continuing on your mission. You had elected not to take Seasmoke, worrying that you might wake someone. The air was crisp and cool as you trekked to the other end of the island. When you had finally made it to your meeting place, the breeze from the ocean was salty as it hit your face and tousled your hair, your fingers twirling your ring round and round.
  “You never could break that nervous habit,” his familiar tone practically rang in your ear. 
  You whipped around to face him, “I-I was not sure what to expect. Part of me believed this to be some sort of trap. I’d be a fool not to be nervous.”
  He let out a low chuckle as he finally stepped into the moonlight, “You know me well, my love. But I assure you, I am not here to trick you.” Aemond stalked closer to you, one of his hands slowly taking yours while the other rested on the curve of your bump. 
  “Then why are you here, Aemond? Surely, it is not to back my mother’s claim or convince me of your brother’s.”
  “I am to take a new wife.” At first, his words seemed to be in some foreign language. That was the only possible explanation your mind could muster before they finally sank in.
  “W-What?” your voice shook, a combination of anger and sadness. You tore away from his touch. 
  “My brother’s council speaks of annulling our marriage and betrothing me to one of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters, so that we may ensure the loyalty of Storm’s End. I am to fly there on the morrow to present the terms to Lord Borros in person.”
 The tears welled in your eyes, “And you are telling me this, why?” You did not give him the time to answer, “Did you truly need to hurt me even more? Why not just drive a blade through my heart and be done with it, Aemond? I would rather be dead than live just to see you be given to someone else!” you sobbed, “I-”
  Your voice faded off as a sharp pain hit your abdomen. A tightening cramp-like feeling making you gasp and nearly keel over. 
  “Y/N? What is it?”
  “The babe...” you grunted between words, trying to catch your breath, “The babe is coming. Now!” 
  Aemond did not hesitate to scoop you into his arms, the pain of your contractions distracting you from just how fast he was running. 
  “Stop there!” Ser Erryk tried to step in front of Aemond. 
  “Princess Y/N is in labour,” he huffed, “You must let me pass.”
  “Prince Aemond, you helped in the usurping of the throne. I cannot allow you-”
  “Seven Hells, just let him in! We can deal with all this political horse shit afterward!” you cried. 
  Ser Erryk seemed taken aback, “Y-Yes, Princess.” The guards finally stepped aside as Aemond carried you through the halls, finally arriving at your bedchamber.
  “Get the midwives and the Maester now!” he barked his instructions at one of your handmaidens. 
  “AHHHH!” your screams practically shook the walls of the castle. Nearly all of the staff questioned Aemond’s surprising presence in the room but were too focused on your labours to pay attention for long. 
  “Y/N?!” your mother’s voice trembled with worry as she entered your room. 
  “Mother,” you called out for her, shakily raising one of your hands to her. 
  “I’m here, sweet girl,” she quickly took your hand, sitting at your side, “I’m right here.” She had been too consumed with you to even note Aemond’s presence on the other side of the bed, “What in Seven Hells is he doing here? Guards!” 
  “No!” you stopped her, “I-I want him here. He...Seven Hells...He needs to be here. Please, M-Mother.”
  She nodded hesitantly as she stroked back your hair, “Alright, Y/N.” 
  “Push, Princess,” one of the midwives encouraged, “Push!”
  “AAAGHHHH! FUCK! AHHHHH!” you screamed, pushing with all your might. 
  Hours and hours seemed to pass and still, your baby was not here. Sweat dripped from your skin as you tiredly clung to Aemond and your mother. 
  “I-I can’t,” you whimpered, “I’m...exhausted.” 
  “The child is close, Princess,” the Maester reassured you, “Just a few more-”
  “I cannot!” you exclaimed, panting as your head lolled over to Aemond, “I’m sorry.”
  He shook his head fervently, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
  “But I do, A-Aemond. I could not be the wife you needed. I can’t even birth our child. I-It’s no wonder you will be taking a new bride.” 
  “You are doing what?” your mother glared at him, “Do you truly think you could just make a fool of my daughter? Of your child? Of our family? I could have your head-”
  “Your Grace,” he stopped her, “I have no intention of annulling my marriage to your daughter or make a fool of anyone of you especially not Y/N or my child.”
  “B-But you told me that...”
  “I told you that my brother’s council desires this. I do not desire being married to anyone but you, my love.” he corrected, “Iksā ñuhon hae iksan aōhon.” You are mine as I am yours. 
  Aemond pressed his forehead to your damp one, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you.
  “Avy jorrāelan,” I love you. “Now, push. Our child is nearly with us.” 
  You nodded as you took in a deep breath before resuming your labours. Your nails dug into both your mother and Aemond as you pushed. A sudden relief overcame you as the soft cries of your newborn filled the air. 
  “A girl,” one of the midwives announced, “As healthy as can be. Praise the Mother!”
  Smiles filled the room as they handed the infant to you, “Y-You’re so beautiful,” you cried. But before you could truly enjoy the moment, there was some sort of pressure from between your legs. You assumed it was the afterbirth as you pushed again. 
  “There is another babe,” the Maester frantically answered as he resumed his work. 
  “Another b- AHHHHH!” a final scream before those soft whimpers filled the room once again.
  “This one’s a boy, Princess,” the midwife smiled, “Just as healthy.”
  They handed Aemond the squalling baby boy, “Seven Hells.” 
  Your mother kissed your forehead, “Well done, sweet girl. They’re beautiful.” 
  You sighed contently, “Mother, I have something to ask you.”
  “Anything,” she smiled. 
  “I think I want to name her Visenya.” 
  Tears fell from her eyes, “It is wonderful. Just wonderful,” she sniffled, “And for the boy?” 
  “Viserys,” you answered, “After Grandsire.”
  “My dearest girl,” she sniffled, wiping her tears as she stood from the bed. 
  “What do you think?” Aemond had hardly pulled his gaze from your children.
  He let out a content sigh, “They are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. Absolutely perfect.” 
  And that’s what that entire moment should have been. Absolutely perfect.
  Your mother had rejoined your side, Daemon accompanying her this time, “I’m sorry but I must insist that Prince Aemond is removed from these chambers and brought to the cells to await proper questioning.”
  “Mother, please,” you begged as the midwife took your son from Aemond while Daemon went to seize him, “Daemon, no!”
  “I warned you, Y/N,” Daemon spoke, “This is how it has to be.”
  “No, it is not,” Aemond finally cut in.
  “You betrayed your Queen,” Daemon scoffed, “You committed treason. And now you must pay-”
  Aemond fell to one knee, pulling his sword and raising it towards your mother, “I pledge my sword and my allegiance to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” He stood again, sheathing his sword, “I love your daughter, Your Grace. And if bending the knee is all it takes to prove my loyalty to her, then I will do it. And whatever else I must to ensure that I never risk losing her again.” 
  You bit back tears as you rocked your children. All eyes fell to your mother for the final decision, “Very well. Prince Aemond Targaryen, you are hereby the sworn protector of Princess Y/N Velaryon as well as her children Princess Visenya Targaryen and Prince Viserys Targaryen, and any future heirs she may bear. By order of your Queen.” 
taglist:  @hydrationqueensworld, @lelerzzz, @warmness0ul , @narwhal-swimmingintheocean, @ivy-targaryen , @bubblebuttwade , @multitargaryen, @lothiriel9, @andmyannabellee , @imaslutforsstuff , @msmarvelknight , @paprikaquinn , @stargazingwatercolouredbeing , @oh-thats-cute , @minttea07 , @iiamthehybrid
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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your posts aren’t letting me comment 😅
i just realized my settings were set all weird so i believe i fixed it. apologies to anyone who ran into a similar issue!! & if there are any other issues, feel free to message me :)
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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author’s note!
hello my loves! first off, i’m so sorry for not being able to reply to each & everyone of you right now (i’ve had a really busy personal life lol) but to address the most important thing, a part two to Traitors is currently in the works! & i’m also compiling the taglist so if you would like to be added, feel free to MESSAGE me directly or COMMENT on this post. i’m so happy to read all of your feedback & ideas, i would love to hear as much as possible (this goes for every piece i do). i really appreciate your guys’ patience :) judging from how part two is going so far, it may also need to roll over into a part three as well. who knows? this may become a mini series on my blog. again, so much love to all of you! & i hope you all have a wonderful holiday <3
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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I loved traitor! It was really good, I would love if u added me to the taglist :)
i would love to! thanks so much for being so supportive :)
again, anyone can feel free to ask to be added!!
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patheticdarling · 1 year
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hi my loves! if any of you would like to be on the taglist for Part 2 of Traitors then please comment below and/or message me so i can add you :) 
& as always, if you have any suggestions for Part 2 or for any future writings i might do, feel free to message me!
happy holidays my loves <3
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