#THE REVENGE DRESS OF HOUSE OF THE DRAGON | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pocketjoong · 3 months

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☾₊‧⁺˖⋆noctem⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 〘act 1, chapter 2〙

〘Synopsis〙『Your hatred of dragons is a hate born of witnessing their flames consume your village, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. The worst of all is the beast that haunts your dreams, the very dragon whose memory fuels a burning desire for revenge within you. But life has a way of unsettling even the most steadfast convictions. And when you stumble upon a truth that shatters the boundaries of your understanding, you begin to question the very essence of the world you live in.』

〘Pairing〙『Night Fury!Seonghwa x afab!Reader』

〘Genre〙『FANTASY, ACTION, SMUT』

〘Word Count〙『2.5k』

〘Chapter-specific Warnings〙『Based on How To Train Your Dragon. Canon-compliant violence. Mentions of dragons attacking the mc's village. Mentions of fire. Passing mention of injuries. MDNI.』

〘Banner Credits〙『@playmetheclassics』

please note: there will be NO taglist for this series

By the time you finish tending to the injuries of those who had been sent to the infirmary, the sun is rising in the distance. A weariness settles over you as you dress the wounds of the last person you have to tend to, and you look forward to the two weeks of peace after a dragon attack.

You rinse the grime and blood from your hands in the basin tucked in the corner before rushing out of the building. Relief washes over you at the sight of familiar figures at the edge of the cliff that overlooks the port. Even though they’re merely silhouettes against the morning light, you know each of them well enough to recognise them by their shadows.

As you move closer, you note that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Mingi, the village blacksmith, look battle-ravaged and tired. But they are watching the sunrise with content smiles. You approach them with a smile of your own, but you can’t help but scan their figures for any injuries that might need healing.

Amusement dances in your brother’s eyes at your worried expression, “I'm fine. Mostly unharmed save for a few small bruises and the soot lining my clothes.”

When you turn your focus to the others, you find them grinning back at you. “And you guys?”

“No open stitches or any new injuries. I told you I’d be careful,” Wooyoung declares, his tone light-hearted.

Mingi ruffles your hair while he offers his own reassurance, “I’m fine as well. I stuck to my workshop until the very end, only leaving when Yunho and Wooyoung needed assistance with the ballista.”

“Let’s go back home and get some rest. Wooyoung and I have a meeting to attend at the hall in a few hours,” Yunho says, leading you towards your home with a guiding hand on your shoulder. Mingi trails behind silently, waving in farewell before taking the dusty path to reach his house, which also doubles as his workshop.

You, Yunho, and Wooyoung share the house overlooking the village. All three of you moved here after losing your families to a brutal attack years ago. Despite being only a few months older than Wooyoung and barely a year older than you, Yunho seamlessly assumed the role of guardian for both of you. The weight he shouldered at the tender age of twelve, stepping into the shoes of a village leader after the tragedy, often made you feel bad for him. His duties far exceeded what any child should bear, but he bore them with a grace beyond his years.

The dream claws at your consciousness, a relentless reminder of the incident that tore through your family. You can handle the sympathetic looks of your fellow villagers, but the nightmares are another story. You hate them, for they persist, leaving you exhausted and weary even after a full night’s sleep.

You unlock the door, ushering the two males inside. As the door creaks open, the comfort of the space envelops you like a familiar embrace, and you can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves your lips.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You know you are dreaming, but the panic that grips your throat is a tangible force that twists your heart and leaves your hands shaking. It’s a suffocating reality that is too familiar, too hauntingly real.

Your surroundings are too hot, too bright, and suffused with smoke that blinds your vision. The orange flames dance menacingly in front of you, searing painfully against your skin. Your brain is screaming for you to do something, to move. But you are frozen in the face of danger and struggle to comprehend the unfolding nightmare.

There’s a presence beside you, but the ringing in your ears drowns their voice. Squinting through the smoke, urgency compels you to find an escape route. If you don’t move, you’ll be burnt to a crisp by the flames, and you won’t let a dragon be the reason you meet your end.

There’s no time to waste, you realise when there’s a crash in the adjacent room. The sound is what finally jolts you into action, and without hesitation, you grab the person next to you and bolt towards safety.

The relief when you escape the fire all but vanishes as the sight in front of you changes, and you find Yunho trapped in the claws of a massive dragon. His desperate struggle mirrors the fear etched in his eyes. The image shakes you to your core. It’s new, and you know why you’re seeing this: every time Yunho is out fighting the dragons during an attack, you can’t help but worry about his safety.

There’s a beat of silence as if the world has stopped around you before you jump towards the creature holding him hostage. But you’re too late. You meet the ground with a crash while the dragon takes off, taking Yunho away from you.

You jolt awake, your heart pounding so hard that you feel it wants to escape your chest. You’re covered in cold sweat, and you feel it trail down your back. You gasp for air, for the relief that comes with your lungs being filled with oxygen. Instinctively, you look down to check your hands, half-expecting to find the remnants of blood and soot on them.

Dazed and disoriented, you rise, stumbling towards the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, you wince at your wide-eyed and tear-stained face. You’re breathing fast, too quick to be considered normal. Staring at your trembling hands, you run them beneath the water before splashing the cold substance on your face.

Feeling a presence next to you, you turn around to find your brother gazing at you worriedly. But before you can ease his worry, Wooyoung walks in through your bedroom door, which is now wide open courtesy of Yunho.

“Is everything okay?” Wooyoung breaks the silence, voice is still gravelly from sleep. You feel bad for waking them up and worrying them like this, but right now, all you can focus on is the raging panic inside of you. “I heard you screaming, Y/N.”

You blink; your throat definitely feels raw, but you can’t remember hearing yourself scream.

“I think it was a bad dream,” Yunho mutters softly, eyes still trained on you.

Dream?

It’s almost as if everything falls into place when you hear Yunho’s words. You had the nightmare once again, the same one you had had since you lost your family during an attack when you were ten years old. With clammy hands, you tightly grip the bedside table in a futile attempt to steady yourself. Stumbling, you crash onto the floor as you try to calm your furiously beating heart.

Yunho scrambles to kneel next to you, brows furrowed in worry. “Y/N, breathe with me, c’mon. ’S okay, you’re safe.” You let him tuck you into his chest, the touch becoming an anchor to help you ground yourself. You breathe deeply, timing your breaths in tandem with Yunho’s. You remind yourself over and over again that he’s safe and sound.

“Was it the same dream?” Wooyoung’s voice is closer now, and you open your eyes to see him in front of you. You shrug as an answer to Wooyoung’s question.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you whisper apologetically, but they quickly shush you.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Wooyoung murmurs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as if he already knows your answer, “Or would you like to help me with lunch?”

“Brunch,” you declare, carefully disentangling yourself from Yunho, who has fallen asleep. Little snores leave his mouth, and you suppress a giggle. You grab a pillow from your bed, gently supporting his neck to ensure he sleeps comfortably even if he’s on the floor. Quietly, you follow Wooyoung into the kitchen.

“What are we making?” You question, standing in the middle of the room while Wooyoung rummages through the cupboards.

“How do omelettes and buttered toast sound? Yunho bought bread from the village baker last evening, and I’m sure we haven’t run out of the jam we prepared,” he stops his hunt and starts gathering the things needed for the proposed meal.

“We also have some leftover meat pie,” you inform him, fishing out the pie from the pantry and setting it on the table. Grabbing a large bowl, you crack some eggs while Wooyoung chops the vegetables, the two of you falling into rhythm easily.

Wooyoung reaches over to add the chopped vegetables to the bowl, stirring them with the eggs as you place two pans on the stove. Soon, you have two omelettes sizzling in unison. Carefully, you add different spices and ingredients to each one based on your individual preferences. Spotting extra vegetables, you throw them in a pan to sauté them while Wooyoung handles the omelettes.

“Wow,” Yunho walks into the kitchen, drawn in by the aroma of food. He peeks over your shoulders. “That’s a feast right there.”

Eventually, you and Wooyoung finish cooking and carry everything to the table with Yunho's assistance. The three of you happily devour the food, joking, teasing, and laughing between bites.

“I have to go into the forest to gather more herbs. It’s amazing how fast we burn through them after the attacks,” you sigh, already tired by the mere thought of having to haul a huge batch of herbs from the forest.

“Be careful,” Yunho warns you. “The forest is safe right now, but you can’t be careful enough.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure with a smile. “I’ve done this so many times.”

After bidding goodbye to the two males, you follow one of the trails behind your house that leads into the forest. You hum a small tune as you walk through the woods. Despite the village being attacked every fortnight, the forest is safe because the dragons avoid lingering for fear of getting captured. The chirping birds and the small animals frolicking around in the undergrowth lift your spirits. You take a deep breath, unable to stop yourself from breaking into a smile.

The sound of a nearby waterfall catches your attention, prompting you to change course towards the opening through the trees. However, you halt in your tracks when you spot broken trees and upturned earth, suggesting that something came barreling down from the sky.

The only thing that would crash down from the sky is a dragon.

Unsheathing your shortsword, you slowly approach an outgrown rock where the wreckage seems the worst. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before peeking to check if you’re right, only to hide behind the rock once again quickly. There, on the other side, is a dragon you’ve never seen before.

It doesn’t take a genius to identify it as a Night Fury, also known as ‘the offspring of lightning and death itself.’ The beast’s scales are pitch black, adorned with small horns that spike from above its eyes, down its neck, back, and tail, the tip of which fans out like that of a whale. Surprisingly, it doesn’t look as terrifying as its reputation suggests, resembling more of a feline than a vicious reptile. For being a dragon dreaded across the seven seas, the beast looks tamer than the ones you’ve come across over the course of your life.

Peeking from behind the rock again, you realise the dragon is tangled in rope. There are signs of struggle, showing that it tried but failed to free itself from the binds. As it seems to be asleep, you approach cautiously, awed by the sheer size of the creature. The dragon likely hears you because, even though it can’t move, one of its eyes opens, fixing a stare at you. It releases a warning growl when you move even closer, but you scoff, knowing fully well that it won’t be able to harm you.

“You know, you really look more like a cat than a dragon,” your tone is belittling as you tilt your head to meet the dragon’s gaze head-on.

The dragon emits what seems like a scoff, earning an eye-roll from you. “You should be nicer to me. After all, I could kill you, and then what would happen, huh? Your little family would find it harder and harder to attack us, considering that you’re the one who makes it difficult for us to bring down the rest of your kind.”

It hits you that this would be your first dragon kill, and for some reason, it gives you a sense of satisfaction. Eliminating the Night Fury is a step closer towards your goal to avenge your family and the countless others who were destroyed by these beasts.

Raising your blade, you look down at the beast with a blank expression. The dragon gazes at you with big, pleading eyes, its pupils round and sparkly like that of a cat. Your grip on the weapon falters, and sensing your hesitation, it lets out the most pathetic of whimpers.

“You have some nerve, really,” you sigh, the urge to harm the creature gradually ebbs away the longer you look into its eyes. It’s a living, breathing creature, and it goes against all your ideals as a healer to kill a sentient being. “First, your kind kills my family, then you guys literally cause so much damage to my village every time you attack, and here I am, wanting to spare you? Why can’t you be as ugly as a Gronckle?”

The dragon blinks at you in confusion.

“Stop looking at me like that!” You scold it, only causing the dragon to huff, this time in amusement. Sensing that you’re not going to kill it, the beast lets out another whine and closes its eyes.

Sighing once again, you use your sword to cut through the ropes, loosening the bonds that bind the poor creature. That is your second mistake because the moment it is free, the dragon lunges at you, pinning you against the rock as you gasp in shock. It growls at you, keeping you restrained with its claws.

“Oh, isn’t that just lovely?” you mock the dragon. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you can’t stop taunting it. “I save your sorry life, and you thank me by pinning me to a rock? Quite the peculiar way to express gratitude, I must say… and quite kinky.”

The beast regards you with a look of sheer disbelief, scoffs dismissively, and turns around to fly further into the forest. Only when it crashes into an outcrop of rocks, do you notice the unsteadiness of its flight.

Is it injured?

Your brows furrow as a pang of worry pierces through your heart, but before you can act on it, the realisation of how late it it dawns upon you. You haven’t even started collecting the herbs you had ventured into the forest for. Deciding to return tomorrow to check on the dragon, should it still be around, you start the laborious task of gathering the herbs you need.

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gxthicwxrm · 1 year

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Let Them Know We Are Coming- Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Warnings: blood, angst, violence, murder, attempted murder, mentions of child loss and death

Summary: The reader has to fight for her and her son when revenge for Storm's End comes busting down her door.

Word Count: 1,787

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

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"There you go, my little fighter. Close your tired eyes." You coo, holding your bundled son, Eli, as he falls asleep. Gliding toward his crib, you stroke back his silver hair and smooth out his furrowed brows. A content smile forms on his face before you kiss his forehead and lay him on his bed.

Lingering, you watched your son rest peacefully, but flashes of Lucerys, Rhaenyra's second son that Vhagar killed, taint your thoughts. The pain Rhaenyra must've felt seemed unbearable to you. Unable to think about it any longer, you attempt to distract yourself by examining your and Aemond's shared bookcase, canvassing for a novel. Since having Eli, you've been unable to find time to read again, always caring for the babe, and you thought this was the perfect opportunity to start again.

After some time of looking and flipping through an assortment of books, you found one that piqued your interest and found a spot to read in a plush velvety chair before curling under a throw blanket.

Quickly, you find yourself consuming page after page, and before you know it, hours have passed, and the sun has set. Looking around, you stretch against the back of the chair and check on Eli before moving to put your book on your bedside table. Readying yourself for bed, you search through the wardrobe and lay out the ones you choose before stripping from your gown and pulling on the sheer sleeping dress you love. The cold fabric sends a shiver down your back as you hear the door to your chambers open. Assuming Aemond has come home from his meeting with Aegon, you continue to dress with your back facing him, waiting to feel his arms wrap around your waist with the sweet smell of embers and leather, but you aren't met with his warm embrace.

Suddenly, the air feels dangerous as you turn to face your guest. Your lungs grow tight when you see two men you've never seen before blocking your doorway. Your first thought was your son; he was asleep still in his bassinet behind the two men.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? The King will hear about this intrusion if you do not leave. I am warning you kindly." You attempt to make these men retreat from whatever they came here to do, but they don't budge.

Taking a step toward you, one of the men shuts off the door while the other reaches for you causing you to flinch away from his filthy hand.

"We are just here for the boy. A son for a son, that's all. No need to hurt anyone else. Just to pay the debt." The man's gravelly voice pierces your heart as he shares an evil smile. His words bring light to

"The King will not stand for this! Aegon will have your hands for trying to hurt his nephew if my husband and I don't first." You shout through your teeth; anger radiates from you as you start tipping back toward Aemond's nightstand. The glint of his blade shines from the light bleeding into the window. With your eyes on the man before you, you grab the metal, then wave it in front of you.

"There's no need for that. We just want the child. Grab him." The plump man says to the lankier one, causing the latter to move towards the crib. Instantly, you lunge toward the more petite man, taking him by surprise as you slice at his extended arm, causing him to pull back from the wooden bed.

"You won't touch him." You snarl at him with teeth barred as you let your blade reach for them with every movement they make towards you and the crib as you look towards the locked door, hoping for someone to hear your screams.

Unfortunately, the noise only alerted your son, who woke with a hungry cry, startling you and your intruders. His scream made you instantly turn to him, making sure he was okay, when you felt hands grab your arms, pulling you from your child.

"No! Get off of me! I will kill you! I will kill you for this! Get your hands off of me! Aemond! Help! Someone! HELP US!" You thrash in the skinnier man's arms and feel his grip on your struggle. Using that to your advantage, you wiggle around before throwing your head backward, cracking the man in his nose.

Letting you go, he walks backward, hands flying to his nose that's gushing blood down his shirt. Looking down at his bloody hands, his face twists before he looks up and glares at you.

"This wasn't personal, but you made it that way." The man says before trying to grab you. Pulling back, you realize you still have the dagger in your hand. Before you had time to realize what had happened, you heard a yelp and liquid dripping on your hand. Looking down, you saw your hand on the blade and the metal in the man before you. A gasp left your throat as you looked at the pain in the man's eyes. You've never killed someone before, never raised a blade to anyone. But, you would care for your child.

"Cheese!" You hear the other man yell before running towards his partner, who stumbles into his arms. Cheese slumps to the ground, holding his wound while the other man looks up at you.

"Blood, finish it." Cheese mumbles, blood coating his bottom lip as he coughs. Silently, Blood stands to his feet before pulling out his knife.

"I will have that boy's life. If that means collecting yours first, I am sure they'd be fine with that." He declares. Twisting your blade, you ready yourself for his attack. 'There will be a song about the day I died protecting my children.' You joked coldly to yourself.

Blood moves towards the crib, making you tackle his side, throwing him into the dresser adjacent to your child whose wails echo around the room, melding in with your own as Blood's fist collides with your face. A crack follows a rush of pain that comes from your nose. Despite the pain, you reach out and slash his side twice, waving the more miniature sword in front of you.

"Oh, you bitch!" He screams as his dagger reaches for your abdomen, slicing the flesh under your robe as you jump back. You feel a trickle of wetness dance down your side but fight against the pain to jab Aemond's knife into the man's chest before pulling back. The intruder holds his chest, blood seeping past his thick fingers as he stumbles against the dresser.

Slumping against the wood, the color drains from the man as his partner has already grown cold. Heart still pounding in your chest, you go to your child, grabbing him with blood-drenched hands. Holding him, you lean against the wall and slowly allow yourself to fall down the stones, exhausted, softly cooing to your no longer crying child.

Suddenly, the doors swing open, and you are ready, blade extended, curled around your infant, prepared to kill the first man to walk in, but stop short when silver hair comes into view.

Aemond pushes through the doorway but stops quickly when he sees the state of you and the room. His eye finds the two men lying on the floor, one still breathing. Grabbing the live man's head, Aemond makes the man face him.

"Who sent you? Tell me before I take your life!" Aemond's hands grip the man's throat as the man grins.

"The Queen. A son for a son." At his words, Aemond grabs his knife from his waistband and slices the man's throat before stabbing the man known as Cheese in the eye. Turning towards you and Eli, his features soften as he dashes to your spot on the floor. His eye examines you, seeing your bruises, the gash on your arm, and blood smearing across your skin.

"Are you okay? How is Eli?" Aemond reaches for you and your son as you open your arms for him. Breathing in his scent, tears fall down your face as you smell the man you thought would have to find you and your son, the man you loved more than life.

"We're okay. It's okay." You held strong before Aegon and the guards, unable to let the fear go, still ready to fight if needed, but these men were no threat to you. You were their family as much as you were Aemond's.

"Dear sister, they will pay with their lives for this attempt. You have my word." Aegon speaks as his hands hold your shoulders. His words are solid and firm, anger creeping into his tone. With a kiss on your cheek and a nod to Aemond, Aegon goes to leave.

"Have their heads sent back to Dragonstone. Let them know we are coming for them." Aemond demands that Aegon turn to his younger brother considering the choice before nodding. Once the room is empty except for the three of you, you let your tears fall down your face as you lean into Aemond's chest. His arms wrap around you while he kisses the top of your head.

"I am so sorry I was not here to stop this." His voice breaks as he looks around the room before petting Eli's head. A spot of dried blood in his blood hair stops Aemond. He has to remind himself not of his son's blood but a reminder of what Aemond's son had to endure while his mother almost died.

"Aemond, all that matters is you're here now." You reassure him, stroking down his hair before leaning your forehead to his, closing your eyes." I love you, Aemond Targaryen." You pressed a kiss to his lips before he could reply. His hand cupped your face as you pulled away. "I love you more than words express, my dear wife."

All you wanted was for your family to be whole again, and now it was, even if you still felt their skin on yours, their blade to your skin, the threat they posed to your child.

Rhaenyra wanted you to understand what it felt like to be without your child and feel that pain. In a small way, you did, and it made you hurt for her and understand to a level the loss, pain, and helplessness she felt when your husband's dragon killed her baby. But, when you look at your family and feel the rage that drove you to kill these men to protect what was yours, all you can think is she will burn for what she tried today.

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Thank you for your time and for reading my work! I hope you enjoyed it!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon imagine #aemond targaryen x you

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sasami-san · 6 months

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#black sails #there's so many moments that shook me to the very core #no other show makes me this insane haha #john silver #captain flint #miranda barlow #miranda hamilton #max black sails #eleanor guthrie #charles vane #anne bonny

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ozai-the-bonsai · 2 years

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Tame the Dragon

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!reader

Summary: After Daemon returns from Stepstones, he takes a fancy to you. Enjoying the excitement Daemon’s interest brings to you (and also wanting to take revenge from your mother), you decide you want to play with fire.

Warnings: I’m not a native English speaker, no smut in this part but rather dirty thoughts, strong language, incest, I used an online translator for High Valyrian

A/N: I am planning to write 2 parts (or maybe 3, depending on how long the second one gets). The first part is more of an introduction to build up the tension between Daemon and the reader.

|Part 1|

“This is wrong.” You whispered; however, the fact that you were short on breath wasn’t helping the situation at all. As his soft lips met the sensitive skin of your neck once again, you pressed your lips against each other to silence the moan that dared to escape.

Daemon breathed against your neck as he spoke. “Why would it be?”

Your pale, violet eyes found that of Daemon’s, which were darkened with lust, as he raised his head from the crook of your neck. “You are married,” you spoke quietly, “and I am to be married.”

With a careless manner, Daemon shrugged. “Marriage is just a political arrangement,” he said and let his right hand slide under the skirts of your dress, causing you to gasp as his fingers began to draw circles on your inner thigh. “We can still do what we want,” placing his left hand around your waist, Daemon pulled you against him so that there was no visible distance left between you two, “fuck who we want.”

A loud thud coming from outside woke you up, the sleeping Princess, from your sweet dream. As you slowly pushed yourself to seated, it took a while for you to realise that it was just a dream -all of it. However, you could still feel the ghost of Daemon’s lips on your neck, and the throbbing between your legs was just as real as it was in the dream.

“Fuck,” you muttered while you ran your fingers through your silver hair, which was damp with sweat. You hated yourself for feeling this way, but your disappointment could not be put into words -you were disappointed that it was all just a dream.

Even the slightest thought about the Rogue Prince made your skin burn, you could feel the flame of desire growing inside you.

Ever since he had returned from Stepstones with a crown on his head, you kept finding your looks lingering on his face, rather on his lips to be more precise, dangerously long enough for anyone to notice if they paid enough attention.

However, Daemon wasn’t helping you either.

You shook your head as you muttered to yourself. “He started this in the first place.”

[Flashback]

You have always had a special bond with Caraxes, even though you had your own dragon. The first time you have ridden a dragon when you were little was with Uncle Daemon on Caraxes, and ever since that day, you have been spending some time with Caraxes, occasionally, whenever Daemon wasn’t around.

“You may wait outside, Ser Ryden.” You told your guard with a warm smile on your crimson lips. “You know that Caraxes means no harm.”

Ser Ryden was, as always, not comfortable with leaving you alone in the presence of Caraxes; however, he had known you long enough to realise that arguing with you would not change your mind. Hence, he nodded and stood guard outside as you walked towards an old friend of yours.

In fact, it was expected for you to be outside at that moment, alongside the other members of House Targaryen, celebrating the victory of your uncle. You knew very well that your absence would not go unnoticed, especially by your mother -Delaena Targaryen, the lady wife of Prince Baelon Targaryen -the late brother of King Viserys and Prince Daemon. Being the youngest of his brothers, your father had been the first to pass away when you were two-and-ten.

You have never had the best relationship with your mother and after your father’s death, you two have grown farther apart. It bothered her to the core that you were, to her dismay, very much like your Uncle Daemon and the more you grew, the more reckless and freer you have become.

Lately, she had been having far too many difficulties trying to keep you on a leash and as the final solution, she had decided to wed you to Jason Lannister -or Rhaenyra’s leftovers.

As you laid your left hand on Caraxes’ head, a soft smile formed on your lips upon feeling the familiar warmth flowing into your body from Caraxes. “I have missed you, too, my friend.” You spoke with a low voice. “It has been lonely here without you.”

Resting your forehead against the dragon’s scales, a memory started playing in front of your eyes.

“You should be grateful that a man as wealthy and reputable as Ser Jason Lannister has agreed to take you as wife!” Your mother snarled at you in your chambers. It was the day she decided to ‘give’ you to the Lannister family to soothe her ‘headache’. The disgusted look in your mother’s blue eyes caused tears to form in yours. “After everything you’ve done, I wasn’t expecting any noble man to accept you, to take you as his lady wife.”

“How could you say that?” You asked her, wiping away the tears with the sleeves of your red dress. “You are the one trying to wed me to Rhaenyra’s leftovers!”

Your mother had a threatening look in her eyes as she took a step towards you. “How dare you…”

Not letting her finish, you continued to speak. Your voice was raising, so was your anger. You could feel the dragon becoming more and more dangerous with each passing second. “You say you care oh so much about my reputation, don’t you, Mother?” Your spat the words out as if they were venom. “That man got turned down by Rhaenyra! You, you deem me worthy of the future Queen’s rubbish!”

Even though your mother was not a dragon by blood, she had, over the years, learned how to imitate its fury. As she grabbed you harshly by your arm, you could see the flames of her anger reaching her blue eyes. “Do you truly believe that your worth is anyhow more than that of ‘the future Queen’s rubbish’?” Your mother hissed between her greeted teeth. “You are a Targaryen Princess of nine-and-ten, Y/N, who has spent the last two years playing with her whores, degrading herself and dishonouring her family name, instead of marrying a noble man and being a dutiful lady wife!”

The knocking on the door caused your mother to lower her voice and let go off your arm. She pointed at you with her index finger in a threatening manner. “You will do as I say and marry Ser Jason Lannister, Y/N. You do not get a say in this.”

What brought you back to reality was the familiar voice coming from behind you. Upon hearing him, you slowly straightened your back and turned your head slightly to look at him.

“How painful is it that my lovely niece missed my dragon more than she missed me?” Daemon Targaryen spoke as he walked towards you.

You chuckled softly. “Well, I thought you have long known that I liked Caraxes more.” For a quick moment, you eyed Daemon from head to foot. It had been a long time since you had seen him with short hair and you had to admit that it suited him better. Short hair made him look even more attractive -as if it were possible in the first place. “Congratulations on your victory.”

Daemon nodded at you and rested his right hand on Caraxes’ nose as he stood to your right.

“Aōha muñnykeā istan jurnegēre syt ao.” [Your mother was looking for you.]

You shrugged; your voice didn’t carry any sign of care as you replied. “Nyke gīmigon.” [I know.]

The prince took a quick look at you from the corner of his eye. “Kessa sagon isse vēdros lēda ao.” [She will be furious with you.]

“Kostas jikagon naejot nopāzma syt mirre nyke jorrāelagon.” [She can go to hell for all I care.]

Upon hearing your last remark, Daemon raised a questioning eyebrow at you as he turned left to face you. He could see the flames of rage reflecting from your violet eyes. “I have never seen you carrying such hatred, Y/N.”

Once again, you shrugged. “You have been gone for years, Daemon,” you responded, crossing your arms over your chest. “I have changed. We all have changed.”

Daemon took his time while his eyes wandered on your body shamelessly, and for the first time in your life, you felt heat rushing to your face under the looks of a man. “Indeed, you have grown into a beautiful woman,” he spoke, his eyes returning to yours, looking down at you. “A beautiful, free woman,” with slow movements, Daemon pushed a strand of silver hair behind your ear as he leaned into your ear, his voice becoming a mere whisper, “who loves to push her mother’s limits every time she gets the chance. I have been hearing about the amusing life you have been leading for the past few years.”

You couldn’t help yourself but shiver as Daemon’s warm breath licked the skin close to your ear. Daemon had always been a forbidden fruit, the taste of which you would never dare dream of, for you knew once you got the sweet taste, you would never settle for anything less, anything else.

Hence, you had never let yourself fantasise about him.

Until now.

The prince clicked his tongue and straightened his back, looking down at you once more with a deep look inside his purple eyes. “Much to your mother’s dismay, rumour has it that you have taken rather after me.”

“Then you should also know that she is planning to put me on a leash,” you muttered, it was obvious that the matter overmuch disturbed you.

Daemon nodded as he rested his left hand on your right shoulder and let it slide down your arm, which was not covered by any cloth since you were wearing a sleeveless dress, until reaching your hand. You took a deep breath.

“Such a disappointment,” he spoke with a low voice as he switched to High Valyrian. “Se Lānistor valītsos kessa mērī jenigon ao naejot morghon.” Holding your hand, the prince started to caress the back of it. Everywhere he touched on your skin was burning. “Kessa daor sagon harrenka naejot tjeahme se zaldrīzes.” [The Lannister boy will only bore you to death. He will not be enough to tame the dragon.]

The edge of your crimson lips curled upwards. “No one can tame the dragon,” you whispered, it seemed as if the distance between your bodies was becoming less and less each passing moment, “unless I want them to.”

Daemon raised his right hand, slowly, he began to caress your cheek with the side of his index finger. You heaved a sigh, his touch was something else. It left you wanting for more -you wanted his hands to caress every single spot on your body.

As your eyes began lingering on his lips, you were interrupted by some footsteps coming from outside. Quickly, you pulled yourself away and put some visible distance between yourself and Daemon. However, there was also another part of you that wanted to be seen with him -so that rumours could start going around the Keep about you and Daemon.

The Unruly Princess and the Rogue Prince.

“Princess, Lady Delaena wishes to see you.” Ser Ryden told you. You heaved an exaggerated sigh.

Daemon sent you a playful smirk. “Now that I am back, I suppose we will be seeing each other ofter, Princess.” Taking your hand, he brought it to his lips. On your way back, even though you were very well aware that a fight with your mother was awaiting you, all you could think about was how Daemon’s soft lips would feel against yours.

[Flashback ends]

Upon recalling your encounter with Daemon from the previous day, you realised that even the memory itself was enough to deprive you from the last bits of sleep hanging from your eyelashes as your skin, once again, started aching for his touch. It was impossible to think about anything but him. As your looks lingered on the flames dancing on the candles, you couldn’t help yourself but try to continue the inappropriate dream you’ve recently had.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you shook yourself and quickly stood up from your bed. You could feel how soaked you were -just the thought of him running his hands along your naked body was enough to get you wet, but the image of him having you cry out his name as he pounded you was enough to drive you to his doorstep at this time of the night. “I need to get out of here if I am to escape these dirty images in front of my eyes.”

Taking a black, hooded robe on your red, silk nightgown, you left your chambers with quick steps as you ran your fingers through your silver hair. Of course, Ser Ryden stopped you in your tracks as soon as you closed the door behind you.

“It is late, Princess.” He spoke with a bowed head. “You know I cannot let you go outside at this time, even if I’m to be at your side.”

You took a deep breath as you wrapped your arms around your body, trying to adjust to the coldness of the Keep’s halls at night. “I don’t intend to leave the Keep, Ser Ryden.” You said and upon seeing his expression, you added with a soft tone.” I am having trouble sleeping, I just need a short, night stroll to get my mind off the things.”

Ser Ryden heaved a sigh -having known you long enough, he had learnt not to insist when you set your mind onto something, because he knew very well that you’d end up doing that thing either way. Hence, instead of fighting you and pushing you to wander around on your own, he chose to be there by your side to protect you from any potential harm.

“But not too far and not for too long.”

With a warm smile on your lips, you thanked Ser Ryden and started heading towards the Great Hall. At night, the silence in there always eased your mind and calmed your thoughts. You were hoping that it could help you silence your dirty thoughts about Daemon as well.

Little did you know that this time, your favourite spot was already taken.

#daemon x reader #daemon x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #hotd #hotd fic #daemon x rhaenyra #matt smith #game of thrones

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mcbride · 2 years

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Queen ALICENT HIGHTOWER's revenge war dress GOT’s HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 1.05 We Light The Way

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bluegalaxygirl · 4 months

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Celestial Wedding (ZoLu X Reader) P10

Plot: Reader gets taken as revenge for Luffy and Zoro's defiance against the Celestial Dragons, they were just going to kill her to make an example but now theres a wedding????.

Warning: Bad language, Violence, blood, kidnapping, forced marriage and salivary.

Thank you to @herwritingartcowboy for the suggestion. Reader is Female and a gunslinger, Zoro X Luffy X Reader, Poly relationship, established relationship.

P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14 - P15 - P16 - P17 - P18

You started to get more nervous since you've been running for a while and there didn't seem to be anyone around, you know Perona and Mihawk are good at fighting but there wasn't even any body's around now. Luffy and Zoro suddenly stop in their tracks turning to face something you can't sense "Get back" The two yell at you as Usopp fires a smoke bomb between two buildings. Skidding to a halt along with the girls and chopper a round figure jumps out of the smoke bringing his large axe down on the three boys. "Oh no it Sentomaru" Rin gasps grabbing your arm in fear knowing what always follows that man, taking her hand you run with them over to a building and make them sit down as Chopper joins you wanting to protect you and the eight girls. The three boys jump out of the way avoiding the axe only for a blast of light to head their way, Usopp jumps out of the way just in time before firing an exploding star at a large Pacifista that fired the blast, Its mouth closes as its hand swings through the smoke showing no damage from the snipers attack. "Not only did you take one slave but now you've taken eight more, i order you to hand them over, now!" Sentomaru points at Luffy who growls at him before running forward and throwing punches "Their not slaves" The captain yells as the chubby man dodges the punches before slamming Luffy in the chest with his open palm sending the captain rolling back and skidding along the floor. Usopp fires another exploding star at Sentomaru before running over to help Luffy up and fight the man.

As other Pacifista's arrive Zoro dodges their blasts and cuts their legs and arms before going for the head, but they didn't seem to stop coming. They would rise up from behind houses or just appear out of nowhere trying to blast the three men. Not wanting to sit around you stand up and turn to the girls prying Rin's arm off yours "Stay here and stay hidden, I'll be back" you send them a reassuring smile but Chopper grabs your hand trying to pull you back down "I'll go help, you stay here" The Doctor tries to stop you but you place a hand on his head while holding the gun in your other hand "I know how to take the Pacifista's out. Please stay here and keep them safe" You smile at the reindeer who sighs before nodding knowing there's no stopping you plus just like Usopp your a good shot. Opening its mouth the Pacifista fire's its beam at the swordsman who easily dodges and slices one of robots in two with one swift swing, landing on the floor he pants while putting the third swords in his mouth but a robot behind him starts getting ready to fire. Zoro turns and is ready to block when a gun shot goes off, the bullet hitting the Pacifista in the mouth, it didn't do much damage but it plugged up the hole making its head shakes as the pressure builds up until its head explode. The swordsman turns with a smile seeing you smiling back at him before firing at another one managing to do the same thing, Zoro runs to your sliding and cutting through a robots leg that got too close for his liking, the two of you working together to take out was many as you can, fighting side by side just have you like it.

The fight was dragging on longer than you wanted and with your dress being so long you could hardly move without stepping on it. After firing another shot you growl to yourself before turning to see Zoro land just after cutting a Pacifista's head off and flicking his sword to get a piece of oil off it "Zo, cut this for me will you" You yell out holding up some of your long dress, without hesitation the Swordsman swings slicing threw the pink fabric of your skirt before going back to fighting. After firing another shot it gives you enough time to grab the cut part of your dress and rip the fabric off up to your knees, your legs and feet where covered in bruises and cuts making you stop for a second. Those weren't there this morning or when you got dressed, with the adrenaline running through your veins it made it easy not to feel the pain or weakness in your legs but as you look down at them you can't help shake a little. The sight of you black and blue skin with red cuts caused your body to freeze up, flashes of how you got them came back to you, memories that you wish you could forget. Luffy punches Sentomaru in the face as the heavy man tries to swing his axe again at Usopp who rolls out of the way and ties to fire another shot only for Luffy to yell as he punches the chubby man again this time hitting him in the stomach but to both their surprise it didn't seem to do anything. Sentomaru swings his axe down trying to cut the captains head off but Luffy ducks and kicks up hitting the guy under his chin and sending him stumbling back a bit.

Usopp fires an exploding star aiming for the man, but he dodges and bring his axe down on the sniper it only being blocked by Luffy and his hardened arms trying to protect his friend, Sentomaru pulls his hand back and opens his palm using Haki to hit the straw hat in the stomach sending the Captain and the sniper into a wall. Usopp pants as he tries to sit up and push Luffy off him but stops when seeing the chubby man turning to walk over to where you and Zoro are. "Hay" The sniper yells as Luffy sits up and rubs his head now noticing Sentomaru who sighs ignoring the two his eyes fixed on your frozen figure after ripping the lower part of your dress off. His job is to get you back to the celestial dragons, killing the straw hats is an added bonus. "Get away from her" Luffy yells anger boiling through his vines while pushing himself out the rubble and running over to the chubby man. Sentomaru turns in anger but his eyes widen in surprise when the Captain turns his gear 2 on and pulls back both of his hands "GUM, GUM, Bazooka" Luffy yells making a direct hit on Sentomaru's stomach with his burns hot red palms, sending the man flying into one of the Pacifista's chests, the robot's chest caves in from the force making it tip back losing its balance and crashing to the floor. Snapping out of your shock by a loud crash your eyes travel up to see one of the robots stumble from the ground shaking next to it and fall into another one that tips over as well causing a Domino affect.

Zoro looks behind him to see a very pissed off Luffy before noticing that your not moving, the swordsman puts one of his swords away as he runs to you and grabs you around the waist. A gasp of shock and pain leaves your lips as Zoro runs and jumps to get out of the way only stopping when your both far enough away from the falling and exploding robots that makes the ground under them crack and cave in. Holding back a groan of pain you push on Zoro's arm thats around your waist, feeling the swordsman's hand gripping a sore spot but you didn't blame him, you didn't know it was a sore spot until he touched it so how was he supposed to know. "Zo-ro" You whimper a bit trying to push his hand off your waist after he didn't let you go. "Sorry, you ok? Did i hurt you?" Zoro asks in a panic while putting you down slowly and gently unwrapping his hand from your waist before looking for any sighs of blood. Sitting up you place a hand on his shoulder and give the swordsman a smile "I'm ok, don't worry... thanks for the save" Leaning up you place a kiss on his cheek seeming to make him relax a bit until his eyes travel down to your beaten up legs. Understanding his shock you cup his face to make him look at you, the worried and angry look on his face makes your smile drop but you run your thumbs over his cheeks "I'm fine for now, it doesn't hurt" you try and reassure but it didn't seem to work as his hand lightly rubs over your leg feeling how cold they are along with the cuts and bumps that litter your skin.

Luffy runs over to you two as Usopp manages to get out of the rubble while rubbing his head "That was close, sorry about that" The captain laughs rubbing the back of his head managing to pry Zoro's eyes away form you to make sure his captain is ok. "Thank's for the save Captain" You smile at Luffy before going to grab the gun but stop noticing it's not with you anymore, you must have dropped it when you were either in shock or Zoro grabbed you. Choppers yell and the girls screams gets your attention looking over to see a Pacifista standing up and turning to where you left the girls, its mouth opening getting ready to fire, "No" You yell out trying to get up only to fall back onto you knees due to the pain in your thigh, Zoro and Luffy rush to their aid as quickly as they can watching as Chopper uses Human point making his top half big and muscular while his lower half is much thinner in order to protect the cowering girls behind him. The Pacifista fires as Luffy and Zoro yell out the doctors name only for a person to jump in front of Chopper "Barrier" A familiar voice calls as a large Blue barrier forms in front of him stopping the blast form hurting anyone, breathing a sigh of relief you relax a little and place your hand over your bandaged thigh knowing the girls are safe. Zoro and Luffy come to a stop almost in shock upon seeing the green spiky haired man with spiky teeth smiling at them while his fingers are crossed. "Rooster" Luffy smiles waving his hand at Bartolomeo whose eyes sparkle and shine while tears fall down his face happy that the Captain noticed him.

You can't help but let out a small laugh knowing how big of a fan the rooster is of the straw hat crew, especially your captain but upon hearing hooves galloping up behind, you turn only catching a glimpse of something fast and white run past you. Your hair flows and light dust hits your face as it runs past, its speed making the wind blow around you causing you to cough a little, once your vision is clear you look over to see a man with blonde hair, a white hat with a long, large blue feather attached and a white coat draped over his shoulders. "How dare you try and steal my show" Cavendish yells out in anger standing up on his white horse before jumping up pulling out his rapier and cutting through the Pacifista before pushing off it and bringing his sword down on another that tried to get up. Zoro groans rolling his eyes seeing Cavendish flips off the robots chest and land dramatically swishes his hair and posing as both Pacifista's explode. "Miss Y/N, Mister Luffy, Mister Zoro, Mister Usopp and Mister Chopper its so good to see you again" Bartolomeo calls out running over to Luffy and Zoro with stars in his eyes as he slightly tears up. With a smile you stand up and walk over to your boys. "Thanks for helping out" Luffy smiles at the rooster man who falls to his knees crying at being thanked by the straw hat. Zoro steps closer to you and goes to put his hand around your waist but stops himself not wanting to hurt you again. Luffy turns with a smile only for it to drop at seeing your legs and tired face, with the adrenaline wearing off the drugs in your system where starting to take effect again.

As Chopper and the girls walk over most of them looking confused at the still crying Bartolomeo, Cavendish takes walks over and bows at the lady's "Don't worry my lady's, your safe now" The blonde man smiles holding out a rose to Sakura who blushes deeply. Usopp sighs standing next to the now short and tired looking Chopper placing a hand on his head "How about you sit on my shoulders the rest of the way, we need you rested" The sniper smiles earning a nod from the doctor, Usopp picks the reindeer up and placed him on his shoulders before turning to look at Cavendish flirting with the girls. Noticing Luffy's eyes wonder over your legs you let out a small sigh and take his hand "We should get going" you smile hoping to get back to the sunny, the Captain nods and leans up placing a kiss on your cheek squeezing your hand as you all start to walk "Miss Y/N, are you ok, do you need me to carry you?" Bartolomeo runs up to you only for Zoro to get in between you and the rooster man making him pout a bit "Oh no i'm ok, i can still walk and thank you for the help, you didn't have to come" You smile at him earning another starry eyed look, "Y/N darling your knight in shimming armor will always be there to save you" Cavendish smiles walking up behind you and holding out a rose to you but with a flick of Zoro's sword the head of the rose falls to the floor "Back off pal" The swordsman growls, Luffy notices and laughs a little seeing his first mate a little pissed off before wrapping an arm around your waist.

You jump a little and take Luffy's hand moving it down your waist a bit "Sorry, its sore there" You sigh noticing the worried look on Luffy's face, but he nods at you keeping his hand where you put it holding your hip lightly as you all walk a little faster. Cavendish glares at the swordsman before clearing his throat and grabbing his horses rains "At least hope on Farul, you must be tried" The offer was temping but you shake your head before giving him a smile "As much as i like that offer i think the girls need it more... i hope you can protect them for me... I'm sure they and others will be very grateful and the news wouldn't miss the chance to talk about how great you were helping them" You smile at the blonde man who bows to you before stopping and helping three of the girls onto the horse. You know he wouldn't like it if you just said no so you knew you had to add things onto it, getting to the golden gates you can't help but smile at seeing the large vinous fly traps knowing it was usopp who did this "Nice Job Usopp" you smile at the sniper who smiles wide at you and placing his hands on his hips "The great Usopp never lets anyone down" You can't help but let out a little giggle as Bartolomeo runs over to Usopp starting to praise the Sniper who seems to grow more and more confident. "Don't boost his ego" Zoro groans to himself as Luffy laughs with a large smile pulling you a little closer to him as you wrap your arm around Zoro's "Would you rather him gush over you?" You ask earning a glare from the swordsman and a slight growl but you keep your smile and rub his arm.

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 5 months

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What power looks like (Dark!AemondPrince Regent x morally grey Reader/oc)

X FEM AFAB READER

Tags: Show canon/ish bookish canonish and totally not canon at all

🔷Summary: You once bullied Aemond and fell in favour with his brother, but now that Aegon is uhm...not able to talk right now, Aemond wants revenge for all you did to him. And he means all of it.

🔷Author's note: This is very poor written but i wanted to share something so...here it is.

🔷Wordcount 4000

Warnings below the cut but mind your step!

cw: blood, stalking, paranoia, smut, oral sex m reciev. fucking, throne fucking, blood, cuts, daggers, slight dubcon.

There had been fighting before you were born.

There will be fighting long after you have left this place, nothing more but a pile of dust, that once were your bones.

There had been war before you were born.

And there will be war long after you have passed.

But none war was so accursed, such a mockery to the gods as the war between kin. And no war was so bloody, so frightful, so deadly, as a war between dragons.

The day began like any other. One might call it ‘ordinary’. There is no day that is ordinary when it comes to you. At first, you awake within the same four walls you always do. Your bedroom in the Red Keep, still nestled warmly in the golden sheets.

Your head is still pounding from last night, your sigil ring of house Asteryon on the floor, near your nightstand. You likely attempted to throw it on the table last night before you fell asleep. And you failed.

You pick it up, your fingers slightly trembling as you easily slide it around your finger. The bed is not yours to worry for, so you let it be, for your servants. You dress that day, alone and quick.

Your mind wanders fast and everywhere, as you slip in a black simple gown with silver details. You pick one of your decorated daggers from your vanity, sliding two of them in your boots. The other, you put in the hidden pocket of your dress, near your corset.

When you are convinced there is no more gold, no more silverware, and no more weapons that you can smuggle out of your rooms, you come out of it. Instantly you are met with the cautious eyes of one of the many faceless servants of the Red Keep. You remain frozen as she enters your bedroom, paying you almost no mind.

Almost.

You study her briefly. Her big brown eyes and her blonde luscious locks as she keeps her attention exclusively at you, fumbling with your bed linen.

You know better.

She is here for you.

Another reason to leave.

You don’t pay her any mind when you open the doors of your bedroom, leading to the big shallow halls filled with empty souls and hollow guards. Right away, you are confronted with an almost piercing smell of iron. No, not iron. Blood. Sweet, fresh and likely still warm blood. The type you only gain by slaughter of innocence.

You pause in the hallway, your mind opening the map inside your mind, of the Red keep. Searching for any quick way out. Any quick way to the ports. Any quick way away from this.

When the Greens had taken over, your mother warned you it would be a short time before they would show their true colors. And now they have. You wonder how many are dead. Dozens, hundreds, thousands?

Your mother is gone now.

There is only one hope for you left.

You need to get to the North.

To Cregan Stark.

To your rival.

And you need to fall to your knees, cry, beg, scream, and finally convince him to marry you.

If he still wants you.

You pass a mirror on your way out.

You briefly look into it, adoring your reflection, aside from those hauntingly scared eyes. The eyes of a peasant. The eyes of a servant.

Most men only like fear in a woman’s eyes. This will not make your conquest harder. Only easier. You lay out the steps for yourself. Get outside, get to the North, get Cregan and hope the Greens don’t follow.

You step outside your rooms, your feet quickly pacing over the tiles where Queens, kings and their servants walked before you. The route you walked a million times. Now is the time to leave.

King Aegon and Prince Aemond are still fighting in Rook Rest. Dowager Alicent is still mourning and the Hand of the King, Ser Criston is with the two royals. You only would expect a rat to interrupt you. You only would suspect a rat would greet you.

And that is exactly what happens.

You hear footsteps behind you, quickly, fast, yet with effort. As if someone’s having trouble with their armor. Marching, rushing up to you as if you can escape any moment. You subtly take another direction, cutting your pursuer.

off. And you walk right in the arms of your enemy. Right where they wanted you.

The Hand of the king, Ser Criston proudly stands in front of you, his armor still bloodied and blackend of what you imagine would be dragonfire. You pause, quickly shifting your mind and spinning a story as to why you are here. ‘’Ser Criston. Such a pleasure! I assume Rook Rest went well?’’

All that meets you is silence.

The type that haunts a field of corpses after a battlefield.

You remain smiling, forcing him to respond. ‘’I have orders to bring you downstairs. Together with your family.’’ You hear alarm bells ringing, blood rushing, and thoughts screaming. Yet you remain smiling.

You easily step out of his reach. ‘’I must remind you: I am a Lady. You have no authority to collect me. If the King wants to see me, he can come collect me himself.’’ Aegon had been proven to be very keen on you, very easy to manipulate as well ever since his sad little wife died and his son was slashed open like a juicy ripe watermelon. You had no effort wrapping your arms around him and shoving his face in a hug, accidentally making sure that your sleeve would slip a little bit.

You would whisper sweet nothings and promises in his ear whenever he felt horrible about himself. But you are still you. You are still a lady. And in that world that means you are still a slave to the truth: Men are allowed pleasures. Women must burn for them.

To even send Ser Criston, the honorable maiden among the men to collect you, is an insult. A confirmation. ‘’Ser Criston!’’ You shriek, the moment he has picked you up as a sack of potatoes. You kick his back and claw with your nails at his eyes as he brings you to the throne room you have come to know so well.

When you arrive, you notice it is still dark outside. Candles alight the room. But barely. You can make out a shadow sitting on the iron throne, a shadow with silver hairs. A shadow that keeps his face well hidden, for now.

Ser Criston puts you back on your feet, and you thank him with a punch in his gut for the way he treated you. ‘’Aegon! Have this animal beheaded at once!’ You shout at the shadow. All you hear back is a terrifying unfamiliar chuckle.

The shadow rises, mending with the flames so you can see its face, finally. You see a face longer than Aegon’s. A face with pouty lips, one bright blue eye, a terrible scar and an eyepatch to hide it. You back away the moment you know it's him.

He doesn't terrify you.

The crown on his head, entrusted with rubies and valyrian steel…

That terrifies you.

Aegon should be wearing this crown.

The fact that Aemond wears it, is bad news for you. For multiple reasons.

You need to leave.

Now.

Your feet take off running as Aemond patiently rises from the throne, walking after you with calm and collected steps, his hands folded on his back, his smirk growing wider every moment. You become aware of Ser Criston who grabs you.

‘’No, no let me go!’’ You beg, when kicking Ser Criston. ‘’Aegon!’’ You add, with a shout.

Aemond chuckles. ‘’Aegon can’t hear you, sweet little Badger.’’ He murmurs when Ser Criston’s grip tightens around your body. You see a glister of insanity in his good remaining eye. A glister you know very well. ‘’He’s with the Seven gods now.’’ He adds, turning his face back to the Iron throne.

You stop fighting, as the floor is pulled from your feet, and your world is shattered. He is dead. The Blacks killed him. The trap that was supposed to be his victory, became his own undoing. You feel sick to your stomach. Not for Aegon. For yourself. He was all that kept Aemond away from you.

You remember the days when you were all little. You, Aemond, Luc, Jace, and Aegon. You remember sneaking in the dragon pit whenever the boys had lessons, studying the dragons along with them, but more importantly, studying Aemond and Aegon as your mother instructed. ‘’One day, a king will sit on the throne. Make sure you are at his side.’’ You didn’t understand back then, but you were a pawn, shoved over the board by your own mother.

Prince Aegon was the likely successor, despite you all knowing that Jacaerys would one day be the heir. But he was a bastard, as everyone knew very well, so you always assumed and worried that one day Jace’s luck would run out, and his head would be on the chopping block, together with his mother’s. So, you did everything to get on Aegon’s side.

Including orchestrating a prank, where Prince Aemond was gifted a dragon of his own. A prank you are sure he has never forgiven you for. A prank you are sure, he will kill you for.

‘’Yes, Badger. He is dead. Gone.’’ Aemond repeats after he has sent Cole away. You realize that the plans have changed. Aegon won’t grant you safety here anymore. You won’t have his protection anymore.

You hate how Aemond uses Aegon’s nickname for you, as well as your house sigil. ‘’And you are next in line.’’ You manage to mutter.

‘’Yes, I am. His children are too young to rule.’’ He says, a bit dismissive but you can tell he enjoys this development very much. Almost too much.

‘’Such a pity, that must be for you.’’ You spit out, accusingly. It all fits a little too well, like a puzzle he thought of. Aemond shoots you a glare and you see the pain and conflict mirrored in his eye.

‘’You will mind your tongue, little Badger. I am not as humble as Aegon, that I let you degrade me.’’

You should not let it betray you but it catches you off guard that Aemond knows how Aegon liked to be handled in the bedroom. You quickly look around for witnesses but aside from Aemond there is no one there. ‘’Yes. I know what a dirty little whore you truly are. I know you two did all sort of wicked little dirty things.’’ You fold your arms, unable to stop a grin.

‘’Jealous?’’ You guess.

He briefly touches the crown on his head.

‘’Why would I be? I am alive, he’s dead.’’ He says with a twisted little grin.

You have the eerie feeling you know where this is heading. and it's not looking good. ‘’You are playing with fire, Aemond Targaryen. You must return me to Cregan Stark.’’ You demand.

‘’So you can fuck him?’’ He guesses. ‘’You go from one powerful man to another. You really play and play and don’t give a damn about our feelings, do you?’’ Should you? Do they care about yours? No. So why should you feel guilty?

He smiles soft, almost gentle to himself, polishing the newly acquired ring around his fingers. ‘’No. You are not going anywhere. You still have a debt unpaid to me. You laughed so hard, that day. I never have forgotten your sickened, twisted laughter.’’ You scoff.

You are not prepared for what comes next. Aemond grabs you by the throat, before pressing a dagger to it. You stare at him helplessly as he drags you to the iron throne, throwing you right in front of it. You watch as Aemond sits down, his eye burning with hatred as he pulls you down, on your knees. ‘’Aegon used to brag about fucking you.’’ You are surprised at that, since you asked Aegon to keep it a secret. And turned on. You bet Aemond was jealous after every time you left Aegon’s chamber, probably fucking himself in his hands as he has no one else who wants to do it for him.

Aemond lifts your chin so you are forced to look at his face. He grins, spitting in your face before forcing your mouth open, inspecting it. ‘’I heard you have the naughty habit to not swallow when a man gives you his cum. I don’t have patience for that kind of behavior. If I feed you, you will swallow.’’ To ensure you understand, he smacks you lightly on your cheeks. You glare.

Aemond speaks much raspier, as you understand that even sitting this close to his cock, with him in power makes him aroused. ‘’Here is how this will go: You will pledge your loyalty to your new prince regent by sucking his cock, and if I am satisfied with your work, I might take you as my whore, my little dirty mistress. You will be bred, fed and fucked the way you like.’’ He adds.

You know he is not Aegon. He could never be. But he is in power now. So you might as well take advantage of it. ‘’I want a crown. You will make me your Queen.’’ You say, clear as a command.

But this man is not as easy as Aegon. Not as in love with you either. ‘’You? My Queen? Hah! You are delusional.’’ He laughs in your face. ‘’Get to it. I have been waiting for years.’’ He murmurs, impatiently unlacing his trousers.

You bow your head before taking the cock in, wettening it with your lips, your tongue and finally your mouth. Aemond is much more inexperienced than Aegon and almost groans when you have your lips suck him off, your mouth moving in different directions to make it good and nice for him. His hands grab hold of the iron throne, groaning out loudly as all you hear is his groaning, grunting and your own lips smacking and sucking. You keep at it for a few minutes until the Prince regent shifts in the chair, grabbing your face tightly and moving his cock up and down your mouth, fucking it.

That is when you push him off and out. You will not do such things. Aegon was never allowed to fuck you like that, neither is he. You watch his erected length, red and swollen. You sit back, proudly on your knees and give him a challenging look.

Aemond stares at you a little longer. He grabs you by your hair, dragging you closer to the throne. You end up with your face on the tiles, on your knees. You hear him pant with need and feel his hands pull down your small clothes, and hear the fabric of your dress tearing. ‘’You had so much fun. Now it's my turn. You will learn your place around me.’’ He warns before smacking you so harshly on your behind that you cry out. In response to it, he laughs, amused and grabs you by your hips, fucking you in front of the swords of the fallen enemies.

‘’So tight, little badger. I can see what Aegon meant now.’’ He mutters between trusts, causing you to cry out. Your head bows in shame, in arousal and in confusion as you let out a soft surrendering sound. Aemond throws his hips a little stronger at your back, pouding away cruelly chasing his own orgasm. ‘’Going to fill you with my children.’’ He adds, as the trusts become almost too much to bear.

You buck back, letting yourself enjoy this moment. You try to not think about the consequences and the fact that you are surrendering to Aemond. ‘’I can only bear your children if you make me your Queen.’’ You add with a lowly submissive little trust back at his manhood. Aemond gives it a thought, at the very least before he throws you back to your knees, fucking you fast and hard.

‘’You won’t give up, hm? You want to be my Queen so bad? Why? What do you care about the title? What do you care for me?’’ You don’t care at all for him. You care about being alive. A lot.

You fake submission. ‘’I must admit, King Aegon has been perhaps too gentle with me. The way you take and treat me, it does me well.’’ You like it, that is true.

But you know that Aemond and Aegon always had a rivalry. And hearing that you enjoy him more, makes Aemond more rallied and more aroused, fucking you now even more harder, as your cries become loud enough to hear in another rooms.

‘’Exactly. I always knew you were a whore. Aegon, my mother, everyone is too blind. But I see what you are.’’ He rasps, biting your ear, smacking your ass until you are sure he breaks his own hand.

‘’Yes, you are so clever to see it.’’ You whisper. He groans at that. You give a little more, driving him to the edge. ‘’You are right. I am worth nothing but what you give me. I should be punished.’’ He roars at that, and within four hard almost bone breaking trusts he finishes inside of you with a war cry.

Your body still is in a confused state. You understand that punishment is likely not aimed at your pleasures. You won’t come. You stand up as Aemond plants himself naked in the iron throne. His arm is wrapped around your belly and you are placed back on his lap.

Aemond fucks you patiently on the iron throne, ignoring your cries of pain and pleasure. He moves you over his cock, fucking you the right way. In ways Aegon never could. ‘’As my Queen, you will need to attend to your duties. An heir must be born.’’ He says, when fucking you when sitting patiently. You nod, not giving a fuck what he says, really. ‘’And we must…find a way to deal with my annoying sister, her bastards and Aegon’s children.’’

That sounds ominous.

‘’A way to deal with them?’’ You have this feeling that there might be more than that Aemond tells you. There always is.

There is. ‘’I have no trouble killing Rhaenyra. Or her bastards.’’ He says, coming up with a plan between the fucks he gives you.

You have an idea. ‘’Perhaps I can be of use. I can seduce Jace.’’ You offer. It might work, maybe it won’t, but it is worth a thought. And you would slip under the radar, escape Aemond and join forces with the Blacks. If they don’t kill you first.

And that offer is rewarded with a hard smack on the back of your head and a rough fuck. ‘’Ow!’’

He growls as a mere animal at you, scolding you.

‘’You are mine, in case you have forgotten.’’

You shake your head, trying to explain you meant no harm, as you don’t want to damage the relationship you have built with him. ‘’No, hear me out. He thinks I’m still loyal. I can seduce him, tie him to a bed, and then, you come in, give a mean speech and finish him off for good.’’ You say appealing to his darker side.

Aemond grins. ‘’Yes. And before we kill him, I will fuck you. Show him who really owns you.’’ He adds, making it even more disturbing. You wonder if that kind of sex will be enjoyable. But if it gives you power…..

‘’What do you have planned for Rhaenyra?’’ he asks, kissing your cheeks. ‘’Tell me, my dark sweet badger.’’

You were friends with her, once. You played with her children. But Aemond is watching you now. And Aemond holds the power. And saying it now, does not make it true later.

‘’I want that whore burned alive, when her children watch and weep. I want Vhagar to burn her. I want to hear Vhagar burp and smell Rhaenyra’s sickening perfume on her breath.’’ Aemond fucks you harder at that and you come on his lap, panting and screaming his name.

‘’I want that too.’’ Aemond murmurs. ‘’Such a shame we can’t just burn Dragonstone to the ground with her in it.’’ That would be the easy but hard way.

There is one final thing to be answered. ‘’You mentioned you’d like us to have a heir?’’ You ask, uncomfortable as Aegon’s corpse is likely sizzling somewhere near.

‘’Yes.’’ He whispers.

‘’So, what happens to Aegon’s children?’’ He sighs, and for the first time he lets go of you as if he’s ashamed as to what he will utter now.

‘’For the sake of the realm, they all must die.’’ He says, and you nod, in understanding. If not, there would be another dance of the dragons soon anyway.

Yet you feel a sting, of hurt, of betrayal. ‘’They are your family.’’ You remind him kindly. Children too. But in what war did families not die? In what war did children not die?

The two boys are dead already. Only his daughter remains. And she is not well, if what you heard is true. He only sighs. ‘’You didn’t see what I saw. Killing her would be a mercy. She would be reunited with Helaena.’’ Her brother was killed by Daemon, a family member, her mother killed by herself, and her own life taken by her uncle, another family member.

‘’You’d be a kinslayer.’’ You add softly. ‘’Nothing is so accursed as a Kinslayer.’’ You remind him as you both dress. Aemond chuckles, staring at the Iron throne.

‘’I already am one.’’ He says coldly.

You roll your eyes. Aegon told you what really happened.

‘’That incident with Luc…’’

Aemond interrupts you sharply. Too sharp, too abruptly almost as if you caught him in a lie.

‘’No.’’

And your gut tells you you were right all along. ‘’You killed him.’’ He killed Aegon. He killed your Aegon. You reach for your dagger…

‘’Do not do something stupid, little badger. I am still considering giving you a bit of power as my Queen.’’ He should be mortified and upset, mad and ashamed. But he only laughs. ‘’It was easy. He was wounded. ‘’Aemond, brother help me up.’’ He said. I dreamt of this moment for years. And I wasn’t going to wake up now. ‘’No, I don’t think so.’’ I said, And I drove my dagger through his chest.’’ You hear with anger what he did. ‘’I burned his corpse so the others wouldn’t ask questions.’’ He sees your angry tears and he cups your face, grinning as he licks a few tears away. ‘’Little Badger, you wanted power?’ You can only cover your mouth to avoid a scream. ‘’I will make you my Queen. For one reason and one reason alone,’’ He drops a silence as he leans in to kiss your teary cheeks. ‘’I want you to kill the girl. As proof of your loyalty and devotion to me. I want you to carve her heart out so I know you are on my side.’’ You gulp.

You know that girl. You played with her with her dolls and her stuffed toys. You played with her mother and her and her brother. ‘’What if they catch me?’’ Well, stupid question, truly. You’d be dead.

‘’Don’t you care for them at all?’’ You ask, your heart beating strongly. He has no clue you have the dagger in your hand. His back is turned.

He scoffs. ‘’I care for them a great deal. Which is why I am offering her a free passage out of this cruel fucked up world.’’ You wait a few moments before raising the knife and attacking him by his back.

Within a second he turns, grabbing the knife as it tears open his hands, but not his back. It does not kill him. ‘’I thought you were supposed to be clever.’’ he tilts his head before bringing the knife to your own face, grabbing you by the throat. ‘’I have two options now. I can’t let you go anymore. You will tell everyone I am a monster.’’

‘’You are a monster!’’ ‘’And monsters are most dangerous when they are threatened. I will make you my Queen. I will make you my wife and the mother of my children. One day, one day soon, something terrible will happen to your own family. And your friends. And your allies. And you will have no one, no one but me.’’ He vows. ‘’I will make you regret being born in the same world as me. I will break you, mold you and shape you into my perfect little pet. That is what power looks like, little badger.’’ He says, before stabbing the knife inside your left eye socket, pricking your eye on the dagger and dragging it out, tearing the flesh as you screams echo through the halls of the Red Keep.

hi.

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pockeymcmockey · 2 years

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𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 | 𝓐𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷

Summary: Aemond finds himself at a crossroads, get revenge and risk his relationship or forgive Lucerys and marry the Princess...

Warnings: HEAVY angst, swearing, men with no decorum, character death (major and minor), violence, Aemond is a selfish ass, Reader regrets things.

Author's Note: This fic needs more angst so here ya go!

𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 | 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑℑℑ | 𝔑𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱

Princess [Name] Targaryen sat by her windowsill, a leg perched upon the ledge and her elbow resting on her knee awaiting the raven she called for after learning about her mother's miscarriage. She sent the raven off to the Red Keep with the parchment to be given to Prince Aemond. She wiped her tears and watched until the raven was out of sight before undressing out of her nightgown and into her training garbs.

When Aemond received the message from his betrothed's raven and read the ink written on the page, he felt a deep sinking in his stomach. The loss of a King, the gain of a new one, and now the loss of a babe was too much for the Kingdom and the family. Aemond wrote back, pleading to the princess to return to the Red Keep to marry him sooner rather than later but alas, when her reply was to stay in Dragonstone and comfort her mother, he couldn't say he wasn't disappointed.

Aemond prepared Vhagar for travel after dressing himself in black leather and a trenchcoat as Storm's End can be rather tempestuous. Vhagar pulled her claws from the soil of King's Landing and took off toward the Baratheon territory. The beast known as Vhagar oscillated throughout the inclement weather that was Storm's End. When the Targaryen prince and his dragon arrived to the Baratheon household, the guards kept their distance, greeting him only when they were out of Vhagar's vicinity.

The one-eyed prince gave a curt nod to the Lord seated before him, Borros returning that nod. Aemond spoke of his mother's offer to bind the two houses together, to fight to keep the rightful King on the Iron Throne. Of course, Aemond expected the Lord Baratheon to want something, so in return, Aemond offered to gift them a dragon egg. The gift of a dragon egg was not to be taken lightly, Aemond knew this, but his words were empty promises. He found a dud lying around in a nest last evening and thought it helpful to strengthen the treaty.

Borros thought his offer over. A Baratheon with a dragon has never been seen and it would bring new fear to those who crossed a Baratheon—of course, he wouldn't actually be getting one but only Aemond knew that. Borros accepted but before Aemond could take his leave, the grand doors opened to reveal the woman he's missed since their departure. And her brother. As the two children of Rhaenyra walked elegantly through the heavy doors, Aemond and [Name] made eye contact.

The pupil in her unscarred eye dilated, black almost filling her iris. She lopsidedly smiled at him, still unsettled about going against her forbidden love. Aemond stood monotonously in the shadows, observing his betrothed and Lucerys, the bane of his existence. The boy who caused all his problems spoke up, handing a Baratheon maester the parchment that held Rhaenyra's words. Borros skimmed through the letter and scoffed, mocking their mother. Lucerys reached for his sword but his older sister outstretched an arm in front of him, shaking her head at him.

"You come to my castle, asking for my army, and without a gift or payment? Am I a jest to you Targaryens?" Lord Borros shooed his maester away and tapped his nubbed fingers against the stone of his chair. "You, boy! Which one of my daughters will you marry?" Lucerys informed the Lord that he was unavailable, being already betrothed to his cousin. The Lord of the Stag cackled wildly, beer gut jutting out, almost popping the buttons of his dress shirt.

"Excuse me if I cause any offense to you, my Lord, but were your ancestors not sworn to the crown? To the Iron Throne, whom my mother should be sitting on, yet you allow a usurper to sit his fat arse on it?" [Name] asked nonchalantly, leaning on her sword, Blood Brother, a stance her father has taken many times. Now that Aemond looks at her, he sees a lot of her father inside of her. Her violet eyes too dark to match Rhaenyra's. Her tongue too sharp for her mother's taste, but not for Daemon's.

The Lord stood from his stone throne, hobbling over to the young woman stood before him. He fisted her thin blouse and touched nose to nose, his breath smelling of grape wine. "Want to say those words again, cunt?" Aemond was about to step in when [Name] smirked, her eyes cast down lazily before shaking her head, apologizing for her harsh words. "Watch your tongue, whore." Aemond's grip on his dagger kept him grounded, keeping him from lashing out on the Lord and ruining their treaty.

"I see we're not welcome here, as we have nothing to offer but our respect. We'll see ourselves out." The Princess escorted her and her brother to the door, at the half-way mark when Aemond halted them. The Prince could not look into the eyes of his woman, knowing what he says next could ruin what they had but it must be done. For if he does not have his revenge, he fears he may wallow in it and not give his betrothed the attention she's always deserved.

"Your eye, Lord Strong. As payment for mine." The one-eyed prince tossed his dagger Lucerys' way, allowing the younger prince to take his own eye. "A gift for my mother. An eye for an eye, after all." Aemond smirked, removing his eyepatch to show his sapphire replacement. The older of the three, the Princess, grabbed her younger brother's hand, pulling him behind her.

"Haven't you taken enough from my family, my Prince?" [Name] spat venomously at the man whose proposal she accepted, regretting making her decision so desperately. Aemond's smirk fell and his eye glossed over, the sapphire glistening from what little light the castle let in. "We'll be on our way now." The Princess insisted, turning away from the man with a jewel for an eye. Said man did not appreciate the rejection very much, storming over and snatching his dagger from the cobble floor beneath them.

"Give me your eye!" Aemond screamed, scolded by Lord Borros who appreciated if less blood was shed in his castle. [Name]'s glare hardened like rock, pushing her brother out the large doors and to his dragon, Arrax. When the two of them reached the courtyard of Storm's End, the eldest of the two noticed the beast Aemond rode had vanished. How had he left so quickly? She asked herself.

"Come, sister, Mother's expecting us back!" Lucerys shouted over the looming wind, whistling in every direction. [Name] nodded and hopped on the back of Llanerion and flew off, back to Dragonstone to send word to her mother that Lord Baratheon would not be joining her bannermen. During their flight, Lucerys had an erie feeling, one that they were being watched, hunted almost. His intuition was correct as the gnarly jaws of Vhagar invaded their path.

"Lucerys!" [Name] shouted with concern, listening to the echoes of Aemond's laughter. She chased after them, soaring beside Vhagar and calling out to Aemond. "My Prince, please! Enough! He's but a child!" Alas, her attempts proved futile as Aemond did not give and continued his chase. Lucerys curved through archways and trenches before losing Vhagar, then they came upon clear skies and the sun cascading over them like a blanket of fire.

The two let the sun distract them for too long as the teeth of Vhagar pierced Arrax and Lucerys in the process. [Name] cried for her brother, alerting Vhagar of another prey left alive. The Princess pulled at Llanerion's reigns, forcing him to dive forward and to avoid the clutches of the largest dragon in Westeros. Her actions were unavailing when Vhagar ripped a wing right off of Llanerion, his balance lost and Princess [Name] as well.

Aemond's eye widened with horror, his soon-to-be wife diving into the sea below. The Prince used all his might to gain control of Vhagar once more, the mossy beast listening and diving downward. His rescue seemed fruitless when the body of his lover was engulfed by the salt of the sea. Aemond showed perseverance and jumped off the back of his beast, swimming below surface level and encircling the waist of his betrothed, pulling her ashore.

Her lungs were filled with salty liquid and Aemond did what he knew best with her, he kissed her. He brought air back into her lungs as she coughed up the salt, a bitter taste on her tongue and her throat feeling the dryest its ever been. Aemond smoothed back the Princess' white locks and kissed her head, holding her closely. The woman held tightly onto the leather of her husband-to-be, grasping to feel any warmth she could get.

For a moment, [Name] just wanted to forget. Forget about the rivalry, forget about her title and duties, and forget about her brother. But unfortunately, she remembered everything. The Princess pushed Aemond away, standing upright and walking toward where sand met grass. The Prince confusingly followed, clutching her elbow and turning her to face him. When her body was directed toward him, she sent her palm to his cheek, a handprint marking the soaked skin.

She's angry, Aemond realized. About her brother, about everything. The one-eyed prince persisted in getting her to talk to him, say something, anything. Yell at him, push him away again, but she only stared at him. Her lips turning blue and her body trembling. Then, she finally spoke, words filled with poison and said out of spite:

"I hate you..."

Taglist

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 5 months

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The Silver Dragon (47/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 6369

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Arianwyn hides something from her husband and ends up encountering his brother, King Aegon. Aemond wakes alone.

Warnings: mentions of suicide and self-harm, Aegon's sex toys

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk @somemydayy @kittykylax @whore-of-many-hot-men @slavicvvitch @crazymusicgirl104 @fall-myriad

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The Brothers' Lament

Neither Arianwyn nor Aemond said anything for the remainder of the morning. They spoke – some. But they did not truly say anything.

Not as Arianwyn bathed him, again trying to scrub the bloodstains from his hair – still unsuccessfully.

Not as she dried him and dressed his wounds with a poultice Orwyle had left and wrapped them in strips of silk she had soaked in the cooled wine.

Not as she helped him into his dressing gown and braided back his hair so he would not see the stain of his own blood.

Not as she led him through their bedchamber to the solar, where servants had laid the table with plenty of simple but hearty foods – plain porridge, mashed apples, light crusty bread, and a large, steaming pot of chicken soup.

Not as they ate –a bowl of porridge mixed with the mashed apple and an obscene amount of brown sugar for Arianwyn, while Aemond had only half a bowl of soup, scooped up with torn pieces of bread instead of a spoon.

Not as they finally crawled back into bed, and Aemond pulled her into his chest, one arm around her waist and the other cradling her head against his neck.

Neither of them said anything. Not until Arianwyn had again fallen asleep, exhausted from the stress of the day and her fitful sleep the night before. Only then did Aemond kiss his wife’s forehead, stroke her wild hair, and whisper, “I don’t know if I believe I can be forgiven. If atonement is possible. But for you, ñuha jorrāeliarza raqnon, I will try.” My dearest love.

Arianwyn woke first, silently throwing every curse she knew at the sun for having the audacity to rise. She had slept fitfully again, waking up nearly a dozen times in a state of panic. Calming down required her to thoroughly examine Aemond to ensure he was still breathing, his heart was still beating, and his wounds hadn’t reopened.

He only woke once and was quickly soothed back to sleep by Arianwyn humming an old Valyrian lullaby while she drew Runes on his chest.

Runes of peace. Runes of protection. Runes of love.

Now, she had already checked that Aemond was well. So well, in fact, that he was snoring slightly. That made her smile, if only a little. Yet despite the tiredness that ached through to her very bones, she was entirely, tragically, awake.

She tried to be grateful that it gave her the chance to make sure the servants had cleaned everything and delivered the food for their morning meal. Perhaps even take a bath of her own – it had been nearly three days since she’d last bathed, and she was beginning to feel as though a thin film of dirt covered her entire body. But it didn’t quite soothe the sting of waking too early.

So, she left Aemond to his rest and went to the solar. After nibbling on an apple while she considered her options, she turned to the door to find a servant to run her a bath. The moment she did, she dropped the apple, sending it tumbling across the floor.

The belongings they had taken with them on their journeys had been retrieved from their dragons, and now sat neatly stacked near the door to the apartments. On the very top, still in its ancient sheath, was Lamentation, the sword of the Lord of Runestone.

Aemond could not see it, Arianwyn knew that immediately.

In the state he was in, Aemond would not feel honored that Gerold had entrusted it to him. No, he would only see in it a symbol of what he thought he had lost – a reminder that he no longer felt he deserved such an honor or the trust that came with it, at least in his mind.

She had to get rid of it.

But not here. Aemond knew every inch of these rooms. He would know instantly if something was amiss.

So, without even changing out of her nightgown, Arianwyn grabbed the sword and raced into the corridor. There were still two guards at the door – Adrew and Rody – but she was too frantic to say anything to them other than that she was fine, and they should remain at their posts.

Where to hide it?

Perhaps in the library? No, that was too public, and Lamentation was too precious to leave somewhere unprotected.

Alicent would likely let her store it in her chambers, or Helaena’s. They would –

“Aria?”

She stumbled, then turned to find Aegon behind her, just emerging from his rooms.

He looked almost as tired as she felt. The circles under his eyes had grown and deepened, and his clothes – too fine to be something he had chosen for himself – were rumpled. While he did not wear his crown, there was a crease in his hair that suggested it had weighed on him quite recently. Had the Small Council kept him up all night?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a few tentative steps toward her, his eyes flicking down to the massive sword she clutched to her chest. Worry crumpled his features. “Is Aemond well?”

“Of course, he’s not well!” Arianwyn snapped. “How could he possibly be well?”

Aegon stumbled back at the venom with which she spoke, a flash of hurt in his reddened eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was a stupid question.”

It was, and years ago she would have mocked him for it. But she was exhausted, and Aegon did not prompt as much instinctive anger in her as he once did. Not when he had apologized for his behavior and been forgiven by Aemond. And not after their conversation at the coronation feast, when she realized that not only was he no longer the mean-spirited and spoiled prince he once was, but that they were more similar than she ever would have guessed.

So, she stepped closer to him, lowering Lamentation from where it had been clutched tightly to her breast. “No, I’m sorry. I have not slept much these past two nights, and I think it’s beginning to take its toll.”

“Is Aemond…” Aegon reached out to touch her arm, then pulled back and instead ran a hand through his hair – somehow more tangled than hers, “is he sleeping?”

“He is,” she answered. “Now, actually. He has done little else since I’ve returned.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“Because…” Arianwyn had to stop and swallow to stop herself from weeping in the middle of the corridor. “Because I am afraid if I do, he will not be there when I wake. That either he will do something drastic, or his wounds will have claimed him, or that my father and Rhaenyra will have somehow taken him from me in retaliation for… for what happened.”

Aegon nodded solemnly and gestured to Lamentation. “And that is why you are wandering the castle in your nightgown carrying a sword that’s as tall as you?”

“No,” she sighed, looking down at herself. She hadn’t considered what a ridiculous picture she made. Surely rumors about a mad princess would soon fill the servants’ hall. “This is Lamentation, the ancestral sword of House Royce.”

“Very nice,” he said with one of his impressed grins that had always reminded Arianwyn of a frog. “I like the hilt, it’s pretty. But that still doesn’t explain…?” He gestured vaguely to her and the sword.

“My Uncle Gerold gave it to me when I was at the Eyrie,” she explained, beginning to get nervous that Aemond would wake and come looking for her. Looking over her shoulder briefly, she continued, “He gave it to me so that I could give it to Aemond, since he is now the Lord of Runestone. But…”

“You don’t trust him with it?”

The look of anger that Arianwyn leveled at her King at that suggestion that she feared her husband would have been considered treason by many.

Fortunately, Aegon was not one of them. He simply raised in hands in apology and surrender, and remained there, waiting for her to speak.

She lowered the blade until its tip rested on the floor. “There is no one in the world I would trust so much with this – no one. However, right now, he does not trust himself, or think himself worthy of anything but disdain. So I… I need to hide it from him.”

Aegon’s brow furrowed in concern as he took a step toward her. “He can’t even see it? Why?”

“He’s just… he’s not making sense right now.” Arianwyn looked down and shook her head to try and banish the so recent and yet so awful memories of her husband – how scared he had been when she first found him, how he wept until he had fallen asleep, and how hopeless he’d looked when he admitted he had tried to end his life. “I think knowing that my uncle would trust Runestone – our family and legacy – to him would drive him further into his despair.”

The King simply stood there, speechless, his gaze fixed on the ancient sword that now belonged to his brother. Then, he took a half-step away and indicated the door behind him with a nod of his head.

“Hide it in my room,” he said. “Aemond’ll never look in there. Trust me.”

She looked at the door, then back to Aegon. In one of his letters, Aemond had called his brother’s room a ‘squalid, festering nest of degeneracy.’ Arianwyn’s stomach turned at what she might find in it, but she could not deny that it was certainly not a place her husband would enter willingly.

“Please, put it in my room,” Aegon spoke quickly and confidently, with a surety he usually only had when he was mocking someone. But his eyes were clear, and there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his lips as he held out a hand to his good sister. “Besides, there’s… I’d like to talk to you about something – something important – if you can spare the time.”

Arianwyn looked over her shoulder again, as though she could see around the corner and down the hall where Aemond lay. What would he do if he woke to find her gone?

It was still early, she told herself, and he had been so tired. He would likely not wake for several hours yet, giving her more than enough time to hide Lamentation, hear whatever Aegon had to say, and return in time to be there when Aemond awoke.

She followed Aegon.

His rooms weren’t quite as horrific as Aemond had described but were most certainly not a place she would choose to spend her time. Next to the wardrobe, there was a pile of clothes so tall it came up to Aegon’s chest. At least two empty wine goblets sat on every available surface, and a few had been discarded on the floor. There was very little décor, but what was present confused her. Especially the table at the end of the bed which held several skulls, candles, and oblong objects made of various materials – wood, leather, stone, and more which Arianwyn could not identify.

When she reached forward to examine one of them, Aegon jumped forward, pushing her away from the tables. His eyes were wide and his cheeks more flushed than she had ever seen. “Don’t… just don’t touch those, please.”

Arianwyn nodded, trying to hide her confusion. She looked down at Lamentation and extended it slightly towards Aegon. “Where should I…?”

“I can hide it,” Aegon mumbled as he took the sword and turned away, tucking it in a tall wardrobe.

Arianwyn wondered what else was in the wardrobe, as it seemed to her all his clothing was in that small mountain. What was in his dressing room? She might have asked about it, but when he turned back to her, his face had become grave.

The longer they stood there, unspeaking, the more anxious Arianwyn became that Aemond would wake to find her gone.

Then, another thought struck her, and she tilted her head. “You have not been moved to the King’s chambers?”

Aegon sighed and curled a lip. “Not yet, they’re still ‘preparing’ them. I technically could sleep there, as they have at least replaced the bed he died in, but…” He blinked rapidly, his brow furrowing in thought.

“There’s still too much of Viserys there,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel comfortable in there. It smells like death and all those rancid herbs the Maesters used, not to mention that fucking model taking up the whole sitting room.”

“It’s still there?” Arianwyn asked, even the mention of it causing her anger to rise.

He scoffed, “It is. There’s quite a debate about what’s to be done with it. I’d like to smash it to pieces, I think.”

At that, Arianwyn almost felt like laughing. “If you do, invite Aemond to join you.”

“I will…” he sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Aria, but I have to ask. What the fuck happened at Storm’s End?”

Suddenly, Arianwyn felt unable to look Aegon in the eye. He wasn’t just her cousin anymore – he was her king. Where should her loyalties lie with this – with her husband or her king?

He shut the wardrobe door and leaned against it. “I won’t force you to tell me anything you don’t want to, Aria. But at least tell me if Aemond…” he swallowed, looking like he might be ill. “I know he is not well, but is he hurt? Is he injured?”

“Yes, he is.” The memory of those wounds, of Aemond’s pain, would never leave her. “But he will recover.”

Aegon grimaced. “So, Luke hurt him, then? He was provoked?”

“It is not my story to tell, Aegon. I won’t – ”

“I know,” he interrupted. He sniffed and looked down at the floor, then trudged over to his bed and sat atop the rumpled furs and blankets. He gestured for Arianwyn to join him, but she shook her head. She didn’t know when the last time the bedding had been cleaned, and she knew if she sat, she would likely stay longer than she intended.

Aegon thought for a moment, frowning as he picked absentmindedly at the skin around his nails. “I’ve been thinking… ever since we got word of Luke’s death. About the time we spent together when we were younger, but I probably don’t think about that as much as I should. I spend more time thinking about what will happen next, or about Aemond, or of my own children.”

He looked up at Arianwyn, his eyes wide and wet. “Jaehaera. She’s not exactly like Aemond – she has both eyes, and her egg hatched. But… she’s different, still. Very shy. And she doesn’t talk. Ever.”

Arianwyn started slightly, unsure why he was making this comparison. But, she realized, he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Yes, I noticed that when I read to them a few nights ago.”

“She isn’t stupid, I know she understands what other people say. I actually think she’s quite clever, especially for her age.”

“When your mother invited me to her chambers to read them all a story, I had the same impression.”

“But still, she doesn’t speak.” Aegon laughed breathlessly. “Hardly makes any sound at all, even when she was a babe. Otto is very concerned about it. He wants to send her to Oldtown to have the Maesters… I don’t know. Experiment on her? I won’t allow it. I think…”

He broke off, looking down and squeezing his eyes shut as she swallowed what was either another laugh or a sob. He was so pitiful, the boy who was now the king, that Arianwyn stepped forward and sat beside him, prying his hands apart to stop his nervous picking, then holding them in her own.

“Sorry, that’s not what we’re here to talk about,” he whispered.

Arianwyn shrugged slightly, telling him that she did not mind. She was desperate to know what, exactly, he was talking about. And why she had to be the one to hear it.

Aegon shook their joined hands, steadying himself to continue. “My point is, Jaehaera is different, like Aemond was. Perhaps more so. But her brother…” He paused for a long while, fighting with all his strength to hold back his tears.

He failed, and his voice became thick and wavering. “Jaehaerys protects her. Not just against other children, though they’re rarely around them. From everything. He protects her from adults who look at her with curiosity and disdain, from nursemaids who are too strict with her, and from anything that may hurt her. I even saw him yell at one of the hounds’ pups once, when it wouldn’t stop licking her and she started crying.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped him, a brief moment of joy amidst his lamentation. Arianwyn smiled at him, encouraging him. Seeing Aegon so unsettled was discomfiting. In all her years, she had never seen him in anything but a drunken stupor, a morose brooding, or in what she now understood to not true confidence and apathy, but rather a mask he wore to seem so.

She pitied him, but she did not know how to comfort him.

“I…” he started, breaking off for a moment, his cheeks flushing as he tried to hold back his sobs. “I should have done that for Aemond. And Helaena. And even Daeron, before he went to Oldtown.”

Aegon laughed, though his crying never stopped. It made for a haunting, worrisome sound. “My son is barely six years old, and already he is a better man than me.”

“Why are you telling me this, Aegon?” Arianwyn asked after a prolonged moment of silence.

He yelled wordlessly as he ripped his hands away from hers and began prowling around the room. “Because it’s my fault! What happened on Driftmark – what happened to Aemond. The pain he’s lived with for so long. And what he just did to Luke. It’s all my fault! Because I didn��t protect him when I should have. Seven Hells, I was the one he needed protection from!”

He seized the nearest wine glass and threw it against the wall, sending shards of amber glass flying. He did not flinch when one cut his cheek.

Wiping away both his tears and his blood, he slumped, exhausted, onto the bed again. He looked at Arianwyn with pleading eyes, begging for something she did not think she alone could grant. “All the blood that has been spilled – and all that will be in whatever fighting there is to come – is on my hands.”

For a long time, Arianwyn just stared at him, remembering.

Remembering the times Aemond had met her in the library, sullen and silent because of Aegon, Jace, and Luke’s teasing.

Remembering the first time she had seen Aemond cry, after his first attempt to claim one of the fully grown dragons had left him with red, blistered burns.

Remembering the look on Aemond’s face after they brought him that pig.

Remembering the blood that poured over her fingers as she pressed her fingers to Aemond’s bleeding face.

Remembering finding Aemond cowering in the corner of their bedchamber, drunk, bloody, and broken.

The memories repeated over and over in her mind, and she felt them as clearly as if they had occurred only moments before. By the time she came back to herself, she had nearly forgotten what Aegon had said.

He still stared at her, desperate.

It’s my fault.

Aemond.

The blood that has been spilled.

And all that will be.

“You want me to forgive you,” she said quietly.

He blinked more tears away and nodded, murmuring a plea too quietly for her to understand.

Arianwyn let her eyes become unfocused as she considered his plea. He seemed sincere in his guilt and regret. But what was done could not be undone. Apologies could be made, but not reparations.

Aemond would always be scarred, and Luke would always be dead.

“From now, we shall be friends and allies. You are my good brother, after all. But still, I cannot forgive the past, Aegon. I’m sorry.”

The King looked utterly shattered, but he nodded and bowed his head. “I understand.”

Aemond woke to the terrifying realization that Arianwyn was gone.

Her side of the bed was empty, the pillow still creased, and the sheets rumpled. But when he laid a hand on them, they were cold. She’d been gone some time.

Was she simply doing something about the castle while he slept, or had something more sinister happened?

It was early – later than he usually awoke, but before Arianwyn liked to rise. And after the last two days, wouldn’t she be tired?

Two days. It had been two days since Lucerys was killed. Since Aemond returned home shattered in body and soul.

It was long enough for his half-sister and her vile husband to learn what happened.

Enough time for them to enact their revenge, if they acted quickly.

Daemon knew the Red Keep intimately. The whole city. He had snuck out of the castle undetected countless times, and once even stole an egg from the Dragonpit without the theft being discovered until the following morning.

He could easily sneak into the city, make his way to the castle, and slip into the hidden passages undetected. He could even do it with a small group of his loyal soldiers.

He could have stolen Arianwyn from their bed – from Aemond’s arms – and taken his revenge by killing her. Daemon wanted her dead, anyway. It would be quite convenient.

He and his soldiers could be waiting in the solar, muffling her cries while they waited for him to come looking for her entirely unawares.

That could not happen.

Aemond rose from the bed and stepped carefully and quietly to the corner where he had either drunkenly, or angrily, or both, shed his weapons when he first arrived back and retrieved his dagger.

The same dagger he had thrown across the Round Hall to Lucerys.

Aemond squeezed his eye shut, blocking out the memories of that day, trying instead to remember the good memories attached to the blade.

The day Ser Criston had first given it to him.

The practice fight he had won armed only with the dagger after his opponent knocked away his sword.

The dagger held between Arianwyn’s teeth as he worshipped her with his tongue. He could still feel the indentations she had made in the leather and gold.

Finally, his heart began to slow, his mind calming. This was not the dagger with which he damned his nephew and his soul, but that with which he would save his wife.

He positioned himself against the wall by the door, his back pressed flat to the stone, dagger held at the ready. After a quick prayer and a last deep breath, he reached out a hand and flung the door open, ducking slightly away to avoid any arrows that may come flying.

None came.

Nor any voices.

Beyond the crackling of the fire, there was not a single sound.

Even worse, there was no Arianwyn. Not by the fire, or by the window, or at the dining table. Though the fire was lit, the window was open, and the table was set. One apple had fallen to the floor, and there were several small, nibbling bites taken out of it…

Renewing his grip on the dagger, his eye wide open, Aemond made his way to the study – she wasn’t there. Neither was she in the spare room or the dressing room.

As he walked back into the bedchamber, he let the dagger fall back to the floor.

“Idiot,” he murmured to himself. Even addled as he was, there was not a chance he would have slept through Arianwyn being taken as a hostage. At the very least, he would have heard her dagger clattering against stone when she tried and failed to strike at her kidnappers. That is if she was carrying it.

When she returned, he would have to ask her to keep it with her always.

When she returned.

Because she would. She promised she would, and Aemond trusted that she would do everything in her power to keep that promise.

Faint memories of him begging for her when she left the bathing room flashed through his vision. Gods, had he really been that pathetic?

The bathing room. Perhaps that was where she was. She didn’t get to bathe yesterday, as far as he knew. It was possible she could have slipped out of bed without his knowing. As she had apparently already done that morning.

Yes, she was probably in the bath right now. Her hair floating across the water, silver eyes closed as she relished the heat. She may even be humming a song, like she had done to help him back to sleep, too softly for him to hear.

Aemond took a moment to comb through his hair with his fingers – it had come loose of the braid Arianwyn had done at some point in the night – and walked through the bathing room door.

She was not there, either.

Panic began to rise in his chest like a roiling volcano. He felt his fingers begin to chill and numb, and his scar began to burn. His heart raced faster and faster, entirely out of his control.

She left. He was alone.

She left. She left. She left. She –

“No,” he hissed, begging his mind to hear his words – to listen. Arianwyn was not here to talk sense into his broken mind, so he had to do it himself. “She did not leave. She will come back. Aria always comes back. She always comes back.”

He had to repeat the mantra over and over, until his throat went dry, and his voice cracked. He was not well, but he was calm – relatively. He was not panicking. He was not crying or screaming. He did not erupt.

She is not hurt, he assured himself. She just needed to go somewhere. The Sept, or maybe the Weirwood tree. Grandsire might have called her to tell him… no, she would not do that without me. She’s probably talking to Mother. Or with Helaena, reading to the children. She is in the Keep. She will be safe. As will I.

Aemond looked down at his hands, balling them into tight fists until he could feel his nails biting into the skin. If he could feel, he was calm. His mind was present and under his control.

If he didn’t know where Arianwyn was, he could not know when she’d be back. He could always ask the guards that he had no doubt were still stationed outside their door. But he didn’t know who it would be. Ser Criston had more important duties, and he had already let too many of the Runestone guards see him at his weakest…

He would simply ensure he was ready whenever she returned – show her that he was better, or at least beginning to be so.

That would start with fixing his braid, as it had come almost completely undone. His wrappings held most of it in place, but the ends were left out, and the feeling of it grazing over his bare skin like a thousand crawling spiders was beginning to drive him mad.

He did not let himself think too long about what he had done to the bedroom mirror, and why he had done it. Instead, he simply walked to the bathing room.

The moment he saw himself, he was very happy that Arianwyn was not here – he looked truly frightening.

The wounds on his face were still mostly covered by the cloths she had wrapped him in. But a few had spots of blood coming through, and beneath the wrappings that had loosened or fallen off, the half-scabbed scratches were visible.

The longer he looked at them, the more they seemed to hurt.

It was most definitely time for new dressings, and since Orwyle had seemingly moved half his stores into their bathing room, Aemond decided that would be the best way to spend his time as he waited for his wife to return. Better than thinking about what happened and what would happen in the future.

Arianwyn had not wrapped his head particularly well, or at least, not in the same way that Orwyle had done. It therefore took him some time, even with the aid of the mirror, to remove it all.

When it was off, and his hair fell into place once more, Aemond was nearly sick. And he had his answer for why Arianwyn spent so much time scrubbing his hair.

It was stained with his own blood.

In truth, it was only pinkish, but it felt like it was bright red, still wet and dripping onto the floor. And though he knew it was his blood, it didn’t feel like it was.

It felt like Lucerys’ blood.

There was no stopping this panic.

He needed it out, out, out. It needed to be gone, erased. Now.

Aemond grabbed the first bar of soap he saw and began scrubbing so furiously that several strands of hair were ripped out with every motion.

Water, it would work better with water.

He dunked the soap furiously in the basin of water that had been set on the table and renewed his scrubbing.

Yet no matter how hard he tried, the soap removed nothing. The stain was still there.

It wasn’t working.

Why wasn’t it working?

It had to work.

The stain needed to be gone.

He couldn’t live with the stain.

He couldn’t live with the blood.

He couldn’t live with it.

He couldn’t forget.

He wanted to forget.

Aemond had no memory of it, but suddenly he was no longer standing before the mirror. He had crossed the room and now held a pair of shears in his hands.

Shears.

Shears were dangerous.

It had been a pair of shears, with handles shaped like Velaryon seahorses, that had made the final cut to remove his ruined eye from his skull.

Shears had nearly gotten Brynna killed. It had made Aria cry. It was Daemon’s fault.

Aria had stabbed Daemon with shears. He was so proud of her for that.

These were Orwyle’s shears.

Used for cutting strips of silk to bind wounds. Aemond had watched him do so many times while he lived in the Rookery Tower during his recovery.

So much silk had been wrapped around him. By Orwyle and the other Maesters. Now by Aria.

These shears were for healing, and Aemond desperately needed healing.

The shears would help him.

Heal him.

Erase the evidence of his sins.

Aemond raised the shears.

Then, he cut.

When Arianwyn walked into her and Aemond’s solar, she immediately knew something was wrong. None of the food had been touched. Even her half-eaten apple remained exactly where she had dropped it when she saw Lamentation.

But Aemond wasn’t asleep – the door to their bedchamber was open, and the bed was empty. And as she crept closer to the bedchamber door, she spied something on the floor, shining brightly as it caught the rays of the mid-morning sun.

Aemond’s dagger.

She immediately ran forward and picked it up. There was no blood – not on the blade, the floor, or the bed. Though there was great comfort in that fact, it did not entirely calm her racing heart. Not as she once again stood in their seemingly empty chambers and, just as she and only two nights before, called out to her husband.

“Aemond?”

A long pause. In which her heart hammered a brutal rhythm against her chest that echoed in her ears. Then…

“I’m here, Aria.”

Her feet were carrying her toward the bathing room before Aemond had even finished speaking. She pushed the door open with such force that it slammed against the stone wall, its wood audibly cracking.

Aemond was sitting on the floor, his back against the bath and his knees pulled to his chest. He had removed the wrappings from his face, but not his legs. Arianwyn thanked all the gods that it seemed none of the wounds had reopened.

He turned to face her, not flinching at the sound of the door crashing into the wall, and never lowering his hands – held tightly against the sides of his head, keeping his hair from his face. “Aria… I woke up, and you were gone.”

The helplessness in his voice nearly cracked her chest open as she sat beside him. “I am so, so sorry, my love. I didn’t think I would be gone for so long, but then Aegon wanted to speak to me – ”

“Did you tell him what I did?” he asked hastily, his eye filling with tears of fear.

Arianwyn sighed and reached out to cup the unhurt side of his face in her palm. With his hands already there, she could only stroke the back of her fingers down his cheek. “I promise I did not. That is your tale to tell. But he knows what happened, though he knows no details. Nor does he make any judgments; he won’t until he hears the story from you.”

He nodded and spread his lips in a flat smile as he turned his head back to the floor. He did not say anything more, and Arianwyn watched as his eye unfocused. Something was wrong. Not just his wounds or the weight of Luke’s death, but something else. Something new.

“Aemond?” she said gently as she lowered herself onto the floor opposite him. “Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone come in, or – ”

“No,” he shook his head and gripped it so tight his knuckles went white. “I just… I did something very foolish.”

He did not give Arianwyn the chance to ask what he’d done, he simply lowered his hands and let her see.

The blood stains were gone, but so was most of the hair around his left ear. What remained was barely longer than his ring finger. The cuts had been quick and imprecise, leaving it looking like the hair was ripped off rather than cut by someone who usually had more finesse with a blade.

Arianwyn came closer to him and ran her hand through the short hair. “I was going to ask Elsie if she knew how to remove the stains. It was my hope you would never see it.”

“Well, I did. I was removing the wrappings and… I panicked, and I didn’t think about it,” his voice sounded hollow. “I just did it.”

“We all do that sometimes, my love.”

“I regretted it as soon as I did it, but I can’t take it back.”

Arianwyn knew he was no longer speaking only of his hair.

“I know,” she said gently, stroking his cheek. “But we cannot dwell on what we cannot change.”

Aemond shook his head and slumped into her, his face buried in her chest. “I’m the villain, Aria.”

“You are not,” she insisted. “You have made mistakes, but you are good.”

She felt him shake his head against her shoulder. “That is not the story that will be told. I killed my nephew. I’m a kinslayer. No kinslayer is ever remembered as being ‘good.’ Nor will I.”

Arianwyn gripped him tighter, searching for the words to soothe him. “Has any kinslayer tried to atone for what he did? Have any regretted it?”

Aemond went limp against her. His voice was muffled in her nightgown as he replied, “None that I know of, no.”

“Then you shall be the first. And that will be your story. The noble prince who rose from darkness and despair to become better – to become a great man. It will be a wonderful story, and one that will never be forgotten.” She hoped the words would be true, that they were sent to her by some prophetic force, and not simply the result of her desperately hoping to make him feel better.

The cloth of her nightgown dampened, and she heard the tears in Aemond’s voice. “How?”

She sighed, petting his head as she prayed for the gods – or perhaps her Royce ancestors – to grant her wisdom beyond her years.

“I don’t know, Aemond,” she began when no new miraculous revelations came to her, “But I think we must start by going to the Small Council tomorrow and telling them what happened. Your mother, your grandfather, and your brother’s advisors… they will know better than I do.”

His hands tightened slightly around her waist, but he did not argue, or even look up at her.

“As for this,” she said, running her fingers through the shorn scraps of his hair. It was still soft, even after everything. “Kiran will be able to help, I am sure.”

Aemond froze, then pulled away so he could look her in the eyes. “Kiran? I don’t understand, he must have left. After I…”

“No,” Arianwyn answered simply with an encouraging smile. “He is still here. When I arrived, he was waiting outside the door to see if you were well.”

“But surely he must hate me,”

“He is upset at what happened, but he holds no ill will toward you. Nor is he angry. He knows you never intended to harm him.”

He shook his head. “I do not deserve his faith in me.”

“But you do, my love.” Arianwyn brought her hand to his cheek, stroking what little unwounded skin she could find. “He told me how you first met. After what you did for him, I cannot imagine you could do anything to earn his ire. He will be with you as long as you allow it – perhaps longer. I honestly don’t believe he’d obey you if you dismissed him!”

Aemond almost smiled, but then his face crumpled with tearful relief as he again buried himself in his wife’s shoulder. “If I am to be redeemed, it will not be by my own will. It will be because of you, ñuhon vōska raqiarzy.” My holy love.

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