#aemon targaryen x you

[just-some-random-blogger]

you know that photo of princess diana asleep at some “royal engagement” and it turned out she was pregnant at the time ? anyways I can’t help but imagine what would happen if aemond wife were to fall asleep at some engagement, meeting, etc

One Eye Open When I'm Sleeping

ONE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYEEEEEEE

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond has been noticing a shift in your sleep pattern. He had his suspicions but didn't make note of it to you up until he unceremoniously announced it to everyone.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, wife!reader, misogynistic rats, mentions/depictions of pregnancy symptoms, ready to stab at any given moment & protective!aemond, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: i resuscitated myself into my aemond craze. tbh idk what happened with this fic i hope you enjoy tho nonnie. ALSO I LOOKED UP THE PICS OF DIANA AND SHE IS SUCH A PRINCESS SUCH A BABY GIRL IF SHE GOT SHIT FOR THAT I SWEAR I WILL PUT A HIT ON EVERYONE WHO SLANDERED MY QUEEN Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @risefallrise @sloanexx

Aemond drew circles on your back as he looked down at your sleeping form. Normally, you'd both be up and about at this time, awake far before the sun reached this height in the sky.

His reason was sleep did not come easy and came fast with him. Or at least that was before his darling wife came into the picture.

You on the other hand, his darling wife, were an early riser by choice. Not only do you enjoy watching the sun rise with a chirp and a smile at the start of the mornings, but you had also been accustomed to do so because of your mother.

This was why your continued slumber, flush, snoozing form snug against him, was something he had mentally been noting. He had no complaints. Why would he when his beloved bride was so comfortably nuzzled in his chest? Which also, in turn, allowed him to sleep longer. He noted it anyway still, at the forefront of his mind.

He noted your appetite changes also. And to this he was less permissive, especially in moments where you felt sick.

In this moment, he had the staff lined up by the side of the table as Aemond chewed his first meal of the day slowly, watching you intently as you did the same.

You licked your lips and offered a guilty look to the servants.

Aemond knew you would wait for the world to be in ruin than ever complain about anything.

"Wonderful meal," you smiled, turning to Aemond with a pleading look to let them be.

With a single nod he did, eyeing the head cook that eyed him back on her way out.

Aemond had various possible explanations for your eating patterns, for the queasiness, the lack of appetite, the intolerance for some food, and the immense cravings for others. One in particular, the most obvious and plausible of them all, you were with child.

He grabs your cup of wine before you could drink from it and offers a smile. You roll your eyes at him, thinking he was merely trying to tease you.

Aemond made it a point to divert the attention from you to the staff though. If you feel the need to vomit because of the meal, then they shall be reprimanded, and if you feel like you could eat the whole day, then they shall be rewarded.

Today it seems Aemond would need to speak with them and your intolerance to spinach.

And speak he did. You scowled deeply at him after for doing so and nagged his ear off for being so 'cruel' to the staff for the past week, simply because you were feeling under the weather. You told him the maesters gave you medicine for your ailment and that it was a problem with you and not the food.

Little did you know there was actually no real 'reprimanding' going on, at least not in the way you pictured it.

They were in on it.

The servants, the maesters. Aemond had been investigating with them the subtle changes you've been having. It was the head cook, Susana, who also happened to be a mother of five, that informed Aemond she was nearly certain you were with child.

All that was left was the maesters to verify it. Aemond's decision not to tell you until he heard the word from your measter stemmed from knowing how you'd be if in case he was wrong with his hunch. He knew he wasn't, but he wouldn't risk getting your hope up nonetheless.

But damn, he hadn't planned for you to learn of it like this. Though, had he not said it, he'd just killed the man in cold blood instead.

It happened so quickly.

"Say that again," Aemond blurted, face twitching, hands stretched out at the side of his body.

The lord ,who made the mistake of singling you out in the middle of the meeting, the meeting you were not even a part of, all because you were an easy target, scoffs and gives Aemond an incredulous look.

You had woken up from the nap you hadn't realized you took in the middle of it all because of Aemond's loud voice.

The lord pointed as he fumed, "your insolent, pretentious wife has done nothing but mock my house since the moment you've arrived!"

Aemond lets out a chuckle. Make no mistake, he was severely unamused.

He was about ready to lunge at him from your side of the table, but then you had managed to perk up and grab his hand. You look at up at him from where he stood next to your seat, hand quivering in your touch out of anger.

It was a wonder Aemond managed to speak in such a manner that did not give himself away, "I assure you, my lord, if my wife wished to mock you, she'd have done it before you bored her to death with your prolonged distractions in a manner so kindly, you'd not even realized she spat at your face."

The lord scoffs in utter disbelief, "you fucking c-"

"I, on the other hand, would gladly openly mock you and your pathetic excuse for a treaty," Aemond mutters, shaking your hands off him. "You think me a fool for your conditions? Any moron with one eye could see how you're trying to play me-"

"Aemond," you whisper.

But it was too late, Aemond lunged to him, slid across the table, and tackled him to the ground, pulling out a blade he kept always in his back pocket. His eyes were blown as he overpowered the man with a raging intent to seriously harm him. He mutters under his breath, "beg for your life."

"Aemond!" you cry out, running to him as the rest of the people in the room do the same.

Aemond watches at the man's face struggles against him. The prince chuckles dryly, "shall I execute you in front of your men?"

The man growls, "get him fuck off me!"

A few men begin to close in on him.

"If any of you touch me, I will slit his throat from ear to ear," Aemond raises his voice.

You begin to panic, "Aemond, please, enough of this."

"No," he barks back, eye not leaving his target, "he ought to beg me not to skin him for not only insulting me," he presses his dagger closer to the cretin's skin, "wasting my time in showing amity by even bringing my wife along this damned trip, but also for demeaning the one person that has kept me patient this whole bloody time!" Aemond rages. He begins to see red, "that person carrying my child, you dumb fuck," he grit his teeth, fury ablaze all over again.

Your eyes widen at your husbands words. You gasp when the man yelps when Aemond nicks his jaw.

He scoffs, "you call her insolent and pretentious, for what? Expressing indications of child bearing?!"

The man in Aemond's clutch begins to lose the color of his face.

Aemond looks down at him.

"I- I did not realize-"

"Of course you didn't realize, you dimwitted ninnyhammer," Aemond hisses, "you treat your own very evidently expecting wife with worse disdain."

"Aemond, please," you mutter rather weakly.

He snorts at the sound of it. He weighs his options.

He stills when you call out to him again.

Fine. He shoves the man back and gets off him, eyeing him darkly as he made his way to you. Once he did, he puts keeps his blade and takes your face in his hands. Part of him begins to be eaten away at the sight of your teary eyes.

But then he's infuriated all over again.

"Your grace, I-"

"Do not speak to me unless you want to lose your tongue," Aemond deadpans as he turns over his shoulder. He grabs your hand and walks out, "you needn't worry about a deliberation for your treaty. May the Seven help you with your endeavors against the crown."

#aemond fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemon targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x you

[sheeple]

Lady Strong | Part 3

PHOTO NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): Strong!reader / Angst? Fandom(s): House of the Dragon (TV series) Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryan x Strong!reader / Jacaerys Velaryon x Strong!reader (platonic/siblings) Summary: It's not easy being a Strong; with a mother who committed suicide, a father who sired three children out of wedlock and then died for it, and a creepy uncle who has nefarious plans for his niece, it's hard to find people who truly mean the best for you. Luckily there are your brothers and your fiance... right? Warning(s): Oof lads this is a sad one / murder / not good anger management / foul words? / It’s eps 10 so hold on lads A/n: Not me trying to make this a two-parter💀 also did I use some input of the comments I got? Who knows🤷🏻‍♀️ [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Part One] [Part Two]

No words leave your lips as you watch the Queen before locking eyes with your family across the table. Jace jumps up from his seat, fuming. You shake your head subtly to make him stop, but it is no use.

"Who has decided this?"

"Jace!", his mother scolds him, a stern look on her face.

Prince Aemond also raises from his seat. "My mother, the Queen, and Lord Strong, Lady Strong's ward."

You turn towards Prince Aemond. Did he know? For how long did he know what your uncle was conspiring? 

You rise from your chair, making both princes look at you. "I must apologise for Prince Jacaerys, my Queen. I'll be a good wife to your son. If I may be excused?"

With one final bow, you walk out of the banquet hall. A heavy feeling slowly grows in your chest. Is this how your mother felt when her engagement was announced to your father? Did they know growing up that they would be engaged, or were they also thrown into the deep?

Once you finally reach your room, you collapse on your bed, laying on the silks as you peer up at the top of the canopy. 

Your peace is soon disturbed by Jace barging into your room and slamming the door. He angrily starts to pace in front of the fireplace, his hands on his waist as he mutters to himself.

"Hello to you too, Jace", you sigh but stay put on the bed. He stops to look at you, huffs a couple of times and continues pacing.

"They can't do this! He's... insufferable! And cruel!"

"Have you even talked to him since Laena Valeryon's funeral?", you challenge him.

Jace stops in his warpath, his silhouette illuminated from behind by the fire but his confused expression is very clear. "Why are you defending him? They're forcing you into this marriage to make you spy on us."

That makes you sit up and raise an eyebrow. "Who said that?"

"Mother for sure will put a stop to this─"

"She won't." You get up from the bed and walk towards him. "Because she ─ like me ─ knows this is the best option. Yes, it is an arranged marriage. But your own got announced too today! It's the same, Jacaerys, and you know it."

That makes him shut up. He swallows and turns his head to the side, looking at nothing in particular. 

"I'm sure he's a good man, Jace." 

Jace gives you a look, and you return it. "How do you know?", he fires back, "you haven't talked to him too since! He could be a rapist for all we know."

"He's not Aegon", you hiss.

"No, we don't need another trying to claim the throne", he hisses back.

"I took a knife for him."

"And one for Luke!"

You shake your head and turn around, massaging your temples as you feel a headache brewing. "Please Jace... can we continue this tomorrow? I already lost my appetite. I don't want to lose my sleep too."

Jace, for once this entire time, get's reasonable and makes to leave my room. "Do you want me to extinguish the fire?", he asks, standing in the doorway.

You shake your head, "I'll do that myself." 

Jace nods and closes the door behind him. As soon as Jace's footsteps are no longer heard, the first vase flies through your room. 

A yell escapes from your lips as you trash the bedroom, taking out your anger on the furniture and decoration. You are so angry it hurts. Deep from within anger burns through your fingertips and out as you throw another candle against a wall. 

Blood spills out of your hands as you watch the fire crackle in the fireplace, your chest raising up and down, straining against your stays.

Your anger soon replaces with sadness. You let yourself drop to the ground, covering your mouth as you sob uncontrollably.

Your father said to always look strong, and be the exact person they expect you to be from your house. Never show weakness in front of the eyes of the court. He knew how ruthless they could be and when shown just one grain of insecurity or weakness, they would latch onto it and tear you apart.

And you've stayed strong, all those years. You've endured being burned, stabbed, sliced, and loneliness at Herrenhal. Never truly feeling at home anywhere. 

Haven't you given enough?

How could they? How could Larys do this to you? You knew that he didn't love you, but selling you off to the one who's vocal about your brothers' true birthright and his wish to maim Lucerys. 

And now you're going to marry that man. Are they going to expect you to switch your loyalties? You've never really cared for Rhaenyra. Feeling indifferent about her was the best option. But your brothers...

You would do anything for them. You know if their mother doesn't become queen, they're going to be killed. And you don't know how you would handle the death of either of them.

Without realizing it, you fall asleep in the middle of the trashed room. Throughout the night, the fire has extinguished itself, the coals still smouldering once you get woken up by a servant. A gasp leaves her lips at the state of the room and of you.

She quickly ushers you into a chair that somehow survived your rampage. She puts some ointment on your hands, binding them before putting you in a beautiful dress.

The Princess and Prince decided to leave the capital to bring their children home before returning to stay with the King.

Luke and Joffrey hug you tearfully, knowing it will be a long time before they see you again. 

Princess Rhaenyra looks at you worried. "Please know that you may not be of my blood, but I consider you to be my daughter. Pay no mind to Lord Vaemond's words."

You send her a small smile. "I know, my Princess. And I am grateful for the kindness you've shown me all these years. Even if I may not have shown it at all times."

She gives you a smile back and caresses your cheek before making room for her eldest son to say goodbye.

Jace's eyes zero in on your bandaged hands and he narrows them, "you have to stop hurting yourself for others. You're not a martyr."

"I do not", you hiss at him silently, making sure nobody sees it.

"Mother has assigned Ser Erryk Cargsyll as your personal guard", he whispers as he hugs you tightly. "She knows something isn't right. Starting with that cunt watching you."

You turn around and see Aemond observing the departure. 

Jace mounts Vermax and holds for one last time your hand before pushing off of the ground, tears in your eyes. You know a storm is brewing between the Greens and the Black, and you're right in between it all.

As soon as the ships leave the port, Aemond makes his way next to you, watching as you wave them off in hope of a good journey.

"I was hoping we could take a stroll through the gardens. Catch up after so many years apart."

What a delight.

You nod and the both of you walk next to each other in silence. He has his hands clasped behind his back while you fiddle with the hems of your sleeves. 

Ser Erryk watches the prince with hawk's eyes as he stands at the entrance of the garden, his hand on his sword in case the Prince dares to do something foolish. But you doubt that.

"Tell me, Lady Strong, what is Harrenhal like?"

You look up at the Prince in search of something on his face. But what? That he's jesting you? For cruelty?

"It's barren after the fire. But it's almost rebuilt. In my honest opinion, it's bland. Most of the heirlooms and the personal belongings of my family have disappeared."

He hums. "And do you miss your mother? I assume you left her behind travelling here."

He- he can't be serious, right? How does he not know?

"She's dead, your Highness."

The Prince stops in his tracks, a few steps behind you. "I apologise, I didn't know. How did she die?"

Well, if he wants the know you, that is a surefire way to do it. "She took her life jumping from the highest tower in Harrenhal when I was still a small child." 

Surprisingly, Prince Aemond reaches for your hands, clasping them in his. A single hand of his dwarfs your own but the two of them engulf yours. 

"You must have been terribly alone, all those years at Harrenhal."

What... is he doing? 

Smiling uncomfortably, you pull your hands away. "I've had my family. It seems like your relationship with the Queen is very close, your Highness."

Smooth, changing the subject.

Aemond nods. "Yes. To be fair, I was never close to my father as a child. He was always busy being king, and turning a blind eye to the antics of his eldest daughter." He glances at you to gauge your reaction. Of course, he would take a dig at the parentage of your brothers. That's how he lost an eye in the first place

Choosing to ignore the comment, you say nothing. It's better to keep quiet than say something you would regret. 

"You've grown wise over the years. And even more beautiful than we were children. The years have done you well."

The comment makes you produce the most unflattering noise a lady can make, at least that is what your septa told you; a snort. 

It makes the Prince smile on his own as he watches you laugh. "Am I not speaking the truth?"

"I would hardly call myself beautiful, my Prince. I've been told that scars can be most unflattering."

"Scars are battles you've fought. Fights you won, and duels you lost. They are something you are to be proud of." He reaches out a hand and touches the scar on your collarbone, just like the day before. Only this time, you don't pull away.

His hand travels down, grabbing your hand. He starts to loosen the bandages and grazes the wounds that you inflicted on yourself. A hiss escapes your lips as it is a sore spot.

As you are fixated on Aemond holding your hand, you don't notice his other one reaching up at your face. He caresses the scar that runs through your top lip. It's the scar you got for him, defending him from the Strong bastards that faithful night. Defending him from your own brothers.

Your breath hitches. His hands are hot, scorching against your skin. The intimate moment lights up a fire within you, low in your belly. A fire you've never felt before. 

The rather intimate moment gets interrupted by a servant fetching the Prince at the request of the Queen. He hums, his eyes still focused on you.

"You've won all your battles, my Lady Strong", he whispers, pulling his hands off of you, but not before rebadging your hand. He presses a kiss on the palm of your hand and goes after the servant.

Your breathing is harsh while your heart runs a thousand miles an hour. What the fuck just happened? Since when is Aemond Targaryen so affectionate? To anyone? Was this whole marriage his doing, and not that of your uncle and the Queen?

Glancing at Erryk, you give him an apologetic look before you make your way out of the garden and towards the library, not knowing what else to do until dinner.

And dinner does not come fast. And it passes slowly. Aemond has asked you to join him in his chambers. You know you can't decline, he's a prince after all. 

Getting into bed quite late and your belly full of good food and Dornish wine, you sleep through the commotion early in the morning.

The King has died.

Only when a servant girl comes to dress you up quickly because your presence is wanted by the Queen, you do notice something's wrong.

Everybody is on edge and looking sombre, their eyes downcast. The banners have changed from their normal red colour to black. 

Once you enter the Queen's quarters, you see her with a distressed look on her face. You curtsey.

"My dear (Y/n). Take a seat."

You cautiously take place next to her on the two-seater, your hands clasped in your lap. 

She sighs once, "now you're betrothed to my son, you're expected to have your alliance with the Greens. Can I count on you?"

The question baffles you. Where your alliance lay was never an issue. Nobody ever expected you to choose a side.

"I... I don't understand, my Queen."

Queen Alicent stands up from the couch, towering over you. "The King has died in his sleep. His dying wish was for Aegon to ascend the throne. He is the true heir."

This makes you stand up yourself. "With all due respect, your Majesty. But Princess Rhaenyra was named heir of the iron throne almost twenty years, and in all those years the King never wavered from his choice to place his oldest daughter as heir."

She turns around with a disappointed look on her face. "Alright. Lock her up and don't let her out before she changes her mind."

Two guards who were stationed at the door grab both an arm and drag you out of the Queen's chambers. You thrash and squirm, anything to get out of their iron-like grip.

You make eye contact with Erryk, in hope that he will save you. But he shakes subtly his head. Like he wants to say not yet.

The guards throw you in your room and lock the door. Screaming and banging on the door until your voice is hoarse does nothing, you've discovered. Trying to pry open the lock also does nothing.

Only after you've given up, the lock rattles and Ser Erryk steps through the door dressed in a black cloak and also holding one. 

"We have to leave, now." He throws the cloak at you and without thinking, you do what he says. He opens a secret passage in a wall and leads you through the inner workings of the castle, sneaking past white cloaks and to the stables.

He pushes a satchel in your hands. You peak inside and it's King Viserys' crown. "Whatever you do, keep it secure. If you follow the winding road to the north, you'll be at Dragonstone in one and a half days through the western shortcut. Ride fast and be safe."

With those words, you depart from King's Landing at full speed on horseback, only stopping at night to rest but further continuing on.

Once Dragonstone finally comes into view, you jump off the horse and run the last few steps up the bridge. What you're met with is a funeral for what looks like a baby.

Trying to control your breathing, you make your way to Princess Rhaenyra, now Queen Rhaenyra. You pull the crown out of the satchel and kneel down, holding the crown up.

"I, Lady (Y/n) Strong, daughter of Harwin Strong of house Strong and Deranna Florent of house Florent, pledge my allegiance to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the first of her name, the Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men."

Prince Daemon walks up to you and takes the crown from your hands, studying it. He turns around and places the crown on the rightful Queen's head and kneels down. Soon everybody follows as they pledge their loyalty to the Black Queen.

Soon, everybody makes the council room ready for the first Black Council, Jace pulls you aside into a hug.

"How did you escape? I thought they would surely lock you up."

"They did, but Ser Erryk helped me escape and bring the crown."

Jace lets out a sigh. "Thank the Gods you're safe. I couldn't sleep at the thought of you being with the usurpers."

Smiling at him, you squeeze his hand. "They haven't harmed me. But Queen Alicent made me swear my loyalty to Aegon. I didn't, and that's why they locked me up in my room."

As the council is summoned, Jace and Luke keep you close to them out of protection. Most of the things being discussed, you don't understand, but once they bring up the alliances and Jace says the Queen should send him and Luke. 

Stepping up, you open your mouth. "Please, my Queen, send me with them. I may not be of royal blood, like your sons, but I would like to do my part. If you allow me."

Jace gives you a stern look, obviously not agreeing with you.

Before the Queen can agree or disagree, Luke speaks up. "She can join me, mother. Arrax is big enough for the two of us."

After a moment of thinking, she agrees. Once you receive the letters, you make your way outside. The Queen has borrowed you some of her old dragon riding gear.

Before you depart with Luke, she pulls you aside. "Before you and your father left for Harrenhal, he asked me to look after you if he came to die. I know I haven't always honoured my promise the best I could. Please, be careful out there. I know Alicent has sent her children to get alliances." She gives you a piercing look that makes you nod your head dutifully.

The flight to Storm's End is windy and thunder rumbles in the sky. Once you've arrived, the sharp wind whips through your bones. Luke helps you off Arrax but you stop both in your tracks once you see Vhagar in the distance.

"I am Prince Lucerys Velaryon", begins Luke bravely, stopping in front of the guards. "I bring a message to Lord Borros from the Queen."

The guards nod and turn around, a motion for you to follow them. You grab his hand and squeeze it in reassurance before walking after him in the hall.

Luke approaches Lord Borros, who sits on his throne-like chair at the end of a long hall. Three women stand to the right of him, which you presume are his daughters. To the left stands Aemond, his back turned towards the others as he converses softly with another woman. He glances at the both of you, his eyes keeping trained on you. His jaw is ticked and his single eye is harsh.

A knight announces our arrival as Luke goes to stand in the middle of the hall.

Aemond turns fully, and Luke looks at him almost scared. The white-haired man smirks.

Luke turns back towards the lord on his throne. "Lord Borros... I brought you a message from my mother... the Queen."

Lord Borros does not look amused. "Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King. Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it." He laughs, but it's condescending. "What is your mother's message?"

Luke holds out the rolled-up scroll for a guard to take and bring to the Lord. The Lord demands a maester, who reads the written message. He whispers it in the Lord's ear.

The Lord looks pissed. "Remind me of my father's oath? King Aegon at least came with an offer: my sword and banners for a marriage pact. The firstborn of Prince Aemond will marry one of my daughter's descendants. Isn't that right, Lady Strong?"

As suddenly the attention is on you, you still. How dare he, sell my potential babe off to the highest bidder.

"If I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will you wed? Boy?"

Without any hesitance, Luke answers, "my lord, I am not free to marry. I'm already betrothed." He looks at Aemond, who still has a smug look on his face. He knows he has won this round.

"So you come with empty hands. Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

With a raised chin and taking the harsh words of the Lord like a true Prince. "I shall take your answer to the Queen, my lord."

He turns around and looks at your proud face, he subtly grabs your hands in search of a supporting lifeline. He's just a boy, after all.

But Aemond's, "wait, my Lord Strong", makes you both stop in your tracks.

Walking back, you're ready for the conflict to come.

"Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?"

Sending a cautious look towards Aemond. "My Prince..."

"I will not fight you. I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

"A fight would be little challenge. No." He reaches up and removes his eyepatch, revealing a sapphire in place of the eyeball he lost. "I want you to put out your eye. That's the least you could do after mutilating me and your sister."

Aemond looks at you now with both of his eyes uncovered, a dangerous gleam in them. This is not the same boy from all those years back you spent in the capital with, who would sit next to you as you both would read. This is not the same man that showed you his tender side in the gardens.

This is a man out for revenge. For blood.

"One is enough. I would not blind you."

"He owes you nothing", you say, standing between Luke and Aemond and pointing the dagger he just threw towards the young prince.

An amused smile grows on his face. "Hm, how brave it is to step in front of your baby brother, Lady Strong. But this is between him and me."

Tightening your grip around the handle, you raise it. "Don't forget, Aemond, I took a blade for you that night. We both are 'mutilated', as you call it. But only one is out for revenge."

As Luke declines behind you, Aemond advances and grabs the hand that holds the blade and holds it up to your neck.

"Than you are craven as well as a traitor, Lord Strong. Give me your eye or your sister dies!", he bellows, pushing the blade so harshly against your skin that it cuts. 

Having enough, you launch your feet backwards and kick him in the nuts. Aemond folds double and you see your escape.

"Luke! Run!", you yell, grabbing his arm and pulling him away.

As you both mouth Arrax, Aemond comes sprinting after you, sword in his hand and rage in his eyes. He himself jumps up on Vhagar.

It has started to storm in the meantime you have been inside, Arrax restless. Luke speaks High Valerian to the dragon before taking off. 

Wrapping your arms tightly around the boy's waist, he looks wildly around him, in search of the large dragon. But it's hard to see anything due to the rain.

Out of nowhere, the largest she-dragon appears, flying above you. She attacks, snapping at the both of you as Aemond's laughter is heard through the clouds. Arrax can barely dodge them. 

A chase starts and Luke sends Arrax down, towards the water. Vhagar is hot on your heels.

Luke sees a cliffside and flies towards it, in the hope of losing Aemond there. It seems to work for a while, as Vhagar is too big for the cracks.

Out of nothing, Arrax turns around and attacks Vhagar. The elder dragon roars angrily, setting in the chase again, this time of her own will.

"The clouds, Luke! Get above the clouds!", you yell, trying to get above the thunder and lightning.

The dragon obeys and you both hold on for dear life as Arrax does his best to gain control over the ancient dragon out to get him.

Finally breaching the clouds, you let out a breath of relief. "Do you see him?"

Luke shakes his head, looking wildly around to spot the dragon. 

Vhagar jumps out of the clouds, her beak open and ready to devour. In his final effort, Luke pushes you off Arrax. As you fall, you watch how Vhagar devours Luke and Arrax, the wings of the beast falling down with you.

You scream, plunging quickly to your death. Arrax's blood hits you in your face as a wing crash against you.

Crashing into the sea, you took your final gasp of air before your lungs fill up with salt water. You try to fight the violent waters, but it was helpless. There was no way you know what is up and what is down.

As you lay helplessly in the last moments of consciousness, accepting your fate, a dark figure enters the water and swims towards you. White hair spread around like a halo, you feel how the person grabs your waist and pulls you up to the surface. Or at least, that is what you think it is doing. For all you care, it could be a siren.

Before your face hits the surface, you close your eyes and let death welcome you.

Taglist: @jeyramarie​ |  @fuckinglittlekitten​ | @neenieweenie​ | @myspotofcraziness​ | @tired-ninfa​ | @yoshiplushie​ | @percyjacksonspeen​ | @lol-im-done​ | @manitskatrina​​ | @myspotofcraziness​​ | @caspianobsessed | @hawsx3 | @green-lxght | @literischdegree99

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[bittersweetarts]

Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chapter 2)

Aemond Targaryen x You –  Chapter 1

Word count: 6608 words

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: Explicit violence, misogynistic behaviour (borderline sexist), dubious consent, no smut

Spotify Playlist – AO3 Page

Chapter 2: Jealousy

It has been little over a month since your settlement at the Red Keep, and thankfully, you have seen little of the wayward Prince.

Aemond had been away at Driftmark, or at least that is what you think Helaena told you. To be frank, you really did not care. He was away somewhere, wherever that was, to quell some resistance (because unsurprisingly, not all are content with being oath breakers and/or serving cruel tyrants). In a way, you wish you had been brave and refused Queen Alicent’s request, as some others are refusing to pledge loyalty to the current monarchs, because you could not say that you were happy being at King’s Landing. You did feel almost at ease, but you could not help but dread whatever misfortune that is heading your way, and you had no doubt that something bad was going to happen to you. Worst of all, you knew that now, you do not have your family to protect you.

The capitol lacked the beauty and charm of your ancestral home, and you missed the wild sea, which you loved to frequent whenever you could. Contrastingly, the water at Blackwater Bay was rank, and the weather was perpetually humid. Your father’s parting words also permanently echo in your inner dialogue, especially before bed every night.

“Secure a marriage with anyone suitable as soon as possible and leave King’s Landing. There is little I can do for you now, my child.”

The remainder of the Summer Solstice Festival was uneventful, and oddly, you could not help but notice that no one would approach you at all during the final events. You opted to miss as many of the events as you could, feigning illness from the unaccustomed weather. To be fair though, you did feel sick at many of these events. Just a glimpse of the one-eyed Prince or his brothers made you feel violently ill, and you remained glued to your brother’s side, successfully deterring unwanted attention. Mostly, you kept your eyes down to your feet and remained silent. Often, you felt paranoid, as it constantly felt like you were being watched. That could not be true, could it?

Little known to you, you were garnered little physical attention during the remainder of the Festival, not because you were unnoticeable. On the contrary, after the Ball, you had become the main topic of conversation for many at the Keep. Though no one seemingly observed your interaction with the Prince on the balcony, you were seen being carried off unconscious on the arms of a Prince known for violence, and predictably, many gossiped about the events in closed quarters.

Though the Prince did not bother himself with idle tongues, he did come up with some meager excuse for his family for the event, which they accepted prima facie, because why would they not? It was none of their concern and they had many more pressing matters. Also, the Queen had become almost fond of you, well enough to turn a blind eye to any indiscretions that may or may not have occurred; and more likely, nothing had happened, because her darling Aemond would never commit any such depravity, for he has never been anything like Aegon.

Any potential suitors which your mother had entertained suddenly gone taciturn, and with your impending relocation, you chaperones chose to ignore the obvious and begin to dote on you, giving you more attention than ever had in your life. What everyone, except you, knew is that there was a silent figure behind the scenes which intimidated all noblemen at the Keep from even starting a conversation in public regarding you. Having no one to talk to, except your mother and Steffan, you felt isolated, which was not unusual, but you knew that this time, it was not you who decided these terms. You had even hoped that perhaps, an opportunity to interact with Queen Helaena would present itself. However, she was constantly busy, and you rarely got to talk to her.

Thankfully, the Festival ended quickly. At the blink of an eye, you were home at Storm’s End, packing your belongings and saying goodbye to your family. It was particularly difficult saying goodbye to your youngest siblings, who you helped raise, and they had barely reached the middle of their childhoods. They were so young and could not understand why you were leaving. You were not being wed, so why should you leave their family?

More painful however, were the despairing looks your elder siblings and parents gave you. No one uttered a word about your time at King’s Landing, for what could they say?

And so, you found yourself soon back at the capitol, alone now. The kind Queen Helaena however, tried so very hard to make you feel otherwise, and as did the lovely Queen Alicent.

Following your arduous journey, you were greeted by the female members of the Royal Family and settled into your new quarters, which though smaller, was significantly more lavish than your previous accommodations at the Keep. You also could not help but notice the stocked shelves near the wooden desk in your room, filled with countless titles which caught your eye. The title that immediately caught you eye was ‘Ruined Cities, Stolen Gods’ by a man named Vaggoro.

You were also introduced to Helaena’s children – Jaehaera, Jaehaerys and Maelor. Each was as lovely as their mother, and though they did not resemble your siblings, you could not help but feel affection towards them just the same. During the day, you found yourself spending time with Helaena and her children. Some afternoons you would be at the Gardens, playing hide and seek with the children, and on more warmer days, you would be at their chambers, sat on a daybed, reading to them about Targaryen history. Occasionally, Helaena’s brother-husband, Aegon would hastily greet you whilst visiting his children and sister-wife, but mostly, he ignored you.

It is common fact throughout Westeros that Aegon II has been different since his capture by his uncle, the now deceased Prince Daemon Targaryen. The stories about what had happened during his capture remains mystery, but what everyone accepts is that the King has become an empty shell of who he used to be. Whether that was so terrible, you could not say, as his childhood depravity was infamous throughout the Kingdom.

More often though, you would find Prince Daeron with the children and Helaena. As expected from a young Prince, he frequently skived training and history classes, spending time with the children. He would tell them lively stories of his adventures riding the she-dragon, Tessarion, and would often casually flirt with you. You did not mind it, and in a way, the young Prince reminded you of Steffon, who was similarly charismatic, frequently flirtatious, and rarely failed to lift the spirits of those he was around.

You also knew that Prince Daeron’s flirting was harmless. He was more than almost a decade younger than you, and you soon saw that he flirted not only with you and almost every lady at the Keep, but even with some boys, and rather shamelessly so. Not that it is any of your business.

And so, time gently glided by. Slowly, you started feeling at peace at King’s Landing. In a way perhaps, complacent, as you did not heed your father’s parting advice. You did not try to entertain suitors, and during the evenings (your only free time), you chose to confine yourself in your chambers, reading one of the many books in your new collection. You did not even have to bring yourself to visit the Keep’s Library, as you were satisfied with the options in your chambers. Also, you still felt uneasy about being out alone after dark, memories of the last time you had done so flooding in like a heavy current.

You found that your sweet tooth at the capitol was best satisfied by plum cakes, and you always stopped by the Royal Kitchens every morning to bashfully grab some for breakfast. You could not stomach properly eating in front of anyone except family, so you always broke your fast alone before joining the Royal Family for breakfast.

Slowly, your daily routine transpired. Although there were many other ladies-in-waiting, maids and servants at the Keep, you and Helaena’s family soon became absorbed in your own world, with its little routines. Part of your morning tasks included being the only person to set out breakfast for the Royal Family. This was so out of security precautions; Helaena did not trust anyone being left alone with you in a room filled with items that could be weaponized, and you did not mind being alone. The idle work helped keep your mind off anxious thoughts, and you let yourself get absorbed in the mundane tasks.

Perhaps that is why you did not realise that the wayward Prince was back. When you entered the dining room, expecting it to be empty, it was still dawn. The room was dim, lit by candlelight, and you had only started preparing the table. As you set down the cutlery, a clinking sound echoed throughout the room. Once done, you turned around to head back to the Kitchens, but froze at the sight of Prince Aemond, dressed casually in a billowy white blouse and black riding trousers. It had been a long while since you had seem him last.

The one-eyed Prince was leaning against the wall next to the exit, observing you with a smirk. You were dressed in a short-sleeved light blue gown, and the Prince found the contrast against your tan skin appealing, the vision intoxicating his judgment.

“Please, do not stop upon my accord.”

The Prince was in a good mood, you noted, which was unlike your first solitary encounter, and you preferred this attitude much more. Opting to maintain this mood, you forced a small smile and bowed, briskly heading towards the exit, whilst keeping your hands tightly together in front of you. You had almost managed to leave the room, but foreseeably, Prince Aemond stopped you, gently grabbing your left arm.

“What, no good morning? Am I still to receive your silent treatment?” He spoke lightheartedly with a smile. You bit your tongue, halting any haughty reply. You understood that this is simply a game for the Prince, and you decided that it was best to bore him.

“Good morning, my Prince. Welcome back,” you say in a monotonous voice, devoid of any affection.

You still keep your gaze down to your hands, which slightly irritated the Prince. As alluring you are in that position, the wayward Prince wanted you look back at him, with your memorably defiant stare.

“ ‘My Prince’ – I like that,” Aemond spoke lowly, lifting your chin to face him. “I can think of a few ways you can truly welcome me back,”

You knew that it was too early for anyone to stumble upon you, but the walls have eyes and ears here, and you knew that this would not bode well for you. The Prince, on the other hand, would be left unscathed, even if he were not royalty.

Ignoring his comment and trying to pull away, you looked back at the Prince, endeavouring to change the topic.

“I must finish setting the table before the rest of your family wake. May I request anything from the Kitchens for your breakfast?” Though you attempt to pull away, Prince Aemond still firmly holds your jaw, staring back at you with his violet eye. Ignoring your question, he responds.

“You are not as amusing so early the morning.”

“And you are not amusing to me generally,” you say defiantly, irritated with his attitude now.

Contrastingly, Aemond remained smiling, and opted to amuse himself since you were ceasing to do so. Dragging his fingers smoothly from your jaw, the Prince proceeded to trace your collarbones, which were exposed by your dress. The Prince could not help but notice how bare your chest was. You, on the other hand, had never have you regretted your choice of attire as much as you had then. But what were you to do? If you even raised your voice and someone intervened, you would be found by in a compromising position. Would it even help if you asked him to stop?

So, you chose to do nothing, letting your nerves get the better of you. You closed your eyes, hoping that by some miracle, you would be left alone, or for this moment to pass quickly.

Aemond continued to trace your collarbones, and then your chest, slowly. He was enjoying watching you squirm, and relished the moment. To say you felt helpless was an understatement. Without realising, tears escaped your eyes, which slid down your face and onto your chest.

“Has anyone told you how pretty you are when you cry?”

Opening your eyes, you see him staring at your mouth, which vexed you.

“No, but then again, most do not find arousal in the sorrow of others.”

Smiling, Aemond collected remnants of your tears with his forefinger, and tasted it, maintaining eye contact with you. Letting go of your arm, he ran his hand through your hair, softly, as he did before. Though it felt pleasant physically, the circumstances only fueled your indignation.

“I shall let you return to your duties, my lady. The children are to wake soon and will be hungry. If you think me a monster, you must yet have to see them famished.” Chuckling, he resigned to himself.

The moment he let you go, you fled, wiping your face with your sleeve, feeling slightly robbed of your dignity.

The morning quickly drifted by. The wayward Prince was absent at breakfast, much to the dismay of Queen Alicent, who had dearly missed her son. You, however, could not even remotely share the same sentiment. It was here you found out that he had only arrived shortly before meeting you, and was now asleep in his chambers.

The children bickered between themselves, Helaena ranted about her dreams, and the remaining Princes spoke amongst themselves. At one point, Prince Daeron complimented your dress, which would normally flatter you, but not today. At this point, you were ready to burn the dress.

It was an otherwise uneventful morning, and the afternoon similarly drifted by. The twins were off with Queen Helaena, having their portraits painted, and you found yourself alone entertaining young Prince Maelor.

He was a lovely, but mischievous child, and enjoyed causing harmless trouble throughout the Keep. By late afternoon, you found yourself carrying the young Prince to his chambers. After you finally caught the young boy sprinting away from a Ser Osgrey, who he had thrown mud at, exhaustion swept over him, and you decided to carry him off to his chambers and read to him before supper.

Setting the tired child down onto one edge of the emerald-toned day bed, you went off and picked up the thick brown book laying at the windowsill. The heavy book, filled with illustrations, depicted Targaryen history, and it was the unspoken responsibility of every member of the Royal Family to be well acquainted with it.

As you read aloud, Prince Maelor laid his head on your thighs and listened to you read until drifting off to sleep.

“… A modest feast followed the ceremony, and many toasts were drunk to the health of the boy king and his new queen. Afterward Jaehaerys and Alyssane retired to –”

“You have a lovely voice.”

You slightly jump, startled by the new voice. For a moment, you expect King Aegon, or even Prince Daeron, as they are the only ones aside from Queen Helaena who are permitted to enter the children’s chambers without permission. That is, apart from Prince Aemond, who now stood at the closed doorway of the room. You gently rocked the boy Prince, who began to tumble in his sleep due to your startled movement.

“Thank you, my Prince,” you softly respond, glancing at him momentarily before returning your attention to the book in your hands, although you have now stopped reading aloud.

There is a small gap on the daybed to your left, and you suddenly feel it dip. All of the sudden, you feel very warm and your cheeks flush, which the Prince immediately notices, and his lip quirks into a side smile.

“Though it flatters me, you do not have to lose your voice every time I enter the room, my lady.” The wayward Prince smoothly speaks into your ear. At this, your breath hitches. Flustered, you stare at the sleeping Prince.

“So, you are teaching our future Kings and Queen our history. Please do continue, I am sure my beloved nephew still can hear your lovely voice in his sleep. I certainly do.”

For a moment, you contemplate your potential courses of action. You could wake the boy Prince to move away, but that would not help you escape Prince Aemond, and may distress the child. You do not feel obligated to follow the one-eyed Prince’s ridiculous decree, but you also do not fancy hearing his indignant voice anymore, so you decide to read aloud anyways.

Taking in a breath, you glance down at the book again, and continue reading. At one point, you feel Prince Aemond lean his cheek against your shoulder and neck lightly, which momentarily paralyses you. But as you glance at him, you realise that he is simply staring at the book, trying to get a better view. Or at least, that is what you convince yourself, which in actuality, is untrue.

You had been reading for a long while now, and the sun is beginning to set. Though your mind drifts to wondering when the twins and Helaena would return, you knew that portrait painting was a lengthy affair, and that they would be busy probably until supper.

“… The year continued without further crisis or test as Jaehaerys and Alyssane settled in to rule. If certain members of the small council were taken aback when the Queen began to attend their meetings, they voiced their objections only to one another, and soon not even that, for the young Queen proved to be wise, well-read and clever.”

“Reminds me of someone I know,” Prince Aemond interrupted, leaning more onto you. You were now very close, and oddly, an unexplainable feeling coursed through you. Without meaning to, you looked at him, and saw a sincere expression in his face, which felt uncharacteristic. Though the comment was vague, Aemond did truly mean it, based on all of the probing he had done into your life since your arrival.

Aemond proceeded to physically detach himself from you. Facing you, he moved some of the wavy hair that had collected against your slightly damp neck, inching increasingly closer to your face.

You were about to respond, but the sleeping Prince decided to wake at that point. Feeling his stirring, you moved away from the one-eyed Prince, picking the small boy up and hugging him. You knew that Prince Aemond was closely observing you, but found yourself unphased by his stare now. In a way, you have become almost accustomed to his presence. You gently rocked the boy Prince, as he slowly woke.

“Uncle?” He voice spoke groggily first, before repeating in a more excited tone. “Uncle? You have returned!” Prince Maelor almost entirely jumped from you onto Price Aemond, which the latter embraced delightfully, picking the young boy up and spinning him around the room whilst greeting him.

If you were being honest, the sight of the long-haired blonde Prince spinning his nephew around as the warm sunset light drifted in through the window, was beautiful, and it became a memory you would truly cherish.

You had felt content for the following weeks to come. Your duties made time fly by, but as the weather slightly cooled, you started to feel better, and less overwhelmed by the foreign city.

The days passed as they always did, the only difference being the ever-needy presence of Prince Aemond. As a trusted confidant of the King, Prince Aemond was constantly busy, yet he always made time to be around Helaena and the children, and by extension, you. And this was an arrangement to the Prince’s liking, not that he was surprised, as his plans rarely go astray.

However, the cruel Prince did not anticipate one unwelcomed factor in his plan: Jayse Wylde, one of the eldest of the Jasper Wylde’s many children.

Jasper Wylde is the master of laws in his elder brother's small council, and for some odd reason, this made his heir, Jayse, feel immune to the callousness of the one-eyed Prince.

It was known throughout the Keep that you were off bounds, practically prohibited. It was clear as day that the Queens cherished your presence, trusting you with the children, and the attention Prince Aemond had bestowed upon you was unlike his public character, and many whispered behind closed doors that you were his paramour.

Unbeknownst to you, during one of the nights of the Festival, a nobleman from some northern house spoke crudely about your figure that evening, not realising that the one-eyed Prince was nearby, and to this day, no one knows where this minor nobleman is. Most speculate that he was fed to the she-dragon, Vaghar, and the Prince has not tried to dispel with these rumours in the slightest.

That is why the one-eyed Prince did not even anticipate that the cocksure Jayse Wylde, who doesn’t even reside in King’s Landing, would try to garner your attention, because surely his father would knock some sense into him, would he not?

Yet, Jayse still tried.

He first stumbled upon you on a holy day, as you left the Great Sept of Baelor alone, following morning congregation. You wore a blue dress with a black cape, and Jayse did not recognise you at first. He felt compelled to introduce himself. Though you were initially startled, Jayse was charismatic and traditionally attractive, with a tall build and dark hair. As he introduced himself, you felt at ease.

He was charming and confident, and seemed similarly pious. You discovered that he was visiting his father at King’s Landing, and was recently anointed as the new Lord of Rain House, located in the stormlands, fairly close to Storm’s End. Hearing this, a surge of longing struck you. Immediately, you practically begged him to tell you all about his life there, and soon found yourself spending the day strolling with him through the nicer parts of the capitol, pleasantly conversing. Though it could have been deemed improper for a maiden like yourself to be alone with a lord in public, he kept a respectful distance and you felt like you could trust him.

Though you are beautiful, Jayse was most attracted when you introduced yourself. The nobleman recognised your good name immediately and decided to pursue. Based on word of mouth, he knew that the Targaryens valued you immensely, but have only known you for a brief amount of time. You leaving the Red Keep should not be a difficult, given that you are a noblewoman after all, and all expect you to wed. Having you as a lady wife for himself, or even his any of his brothers, would serve immense political utility. Yes, you would be a very useful piece in this game of thrones, and your presence alone would be good protection for the House of Wylde.

And slowly, the young Wylde began courting you, not discretely, but not publicly either, which suited you well, as you did not crave unwanted attention.

He felt familiar and being with him was a promise of being closer to home and family, something you valued vastly. Conversations with him flowed easily, and he never overstepped or disrespected you. He made his intentions towards you clear, or so you believed, and you began imagining a life with him. You both came from large families, and whilst the prospect of birthing many children frightened you, the potential joy that could arise filled you with hope. As much as you loved your siblings, you felt like you lost much of your childhood raising them.

Motherhood had always seemed like a distant prospect for you, but having recently spent so much time caring for the twins and Maelor, the idea of having offspring of your own in your homeland was something you began praying for before bed.

Given your age, position, and that you lacked any guardians or wards, Jayse proceeded to court you rapidly and untraditionally. In the matter of days, you formally met his father during evening tea, and it was this meeting that alerted the one-eyed Prince.

Aemond Targaryen had become accustomed to your presence in his life, and he began looking forward to your meetings. While he found your looks and intellect attractive, he most coveted your physical presence, for it had a soothing quality. You also almost always knew when to speak and when to remain silent, and with you, the mood of the room was constantly cheerful.

Prior to your arrival, his mother was frequently anxious, and almost always in a foul mood, and his sister Helaena persistently avoided her children, leaving them to some nameless maids whilst sinking into a slow depression. With your arrival, life slowly returned back into the Targaryen family. You brought a constant stream of interesting conversation, and when silence was needed, you provided a comforting presence.

That is why your absence at just one family supper had alarmed Prince Aemond. As usual, he strolled in after everyone had begun dining, and had immediately notice a vacant seat directly across the table from him, where you normally sat. The room was duller than normal, the children bickering among themselves, and no one aside from his mother greeted him. As he sat, he could not help but notice his sister’s gloomy silence.

“Where is your Lady? I did not peg her as one who abandons her duties,” Aemond spoke in a chagrin tone.

As if snapped from a trance, Helaena glanced at her brother.

“Oh. She had kindly asked if she could miss supper today, and I did not have the heart to decline her request. She never asks for anything.”

His younger brother, Daeron, oblivious as ever, had been stuffing his face, and managed to speak before Aemond could, his mouth still full.

“Ah! I was wondering where your fair lady was. Did she say what her plans were?”

“To meet the master of the laws. One of his sons is visiting, and he wanted to introduce her before he left,” Helaena responded wistfully, pushing her plate away. The Queen Alicent was silently observed the conversation and felt dread wash over her. Aegon on the other hand, remained absently aloof, slowly eating his meal. As Helaena spoke, the children were taken out of the room by some trusted maids, sensing the rigid atmosphere.

Suddenly, Aemond’s blood began pulsing rapidly. His face would not betray his anger, if not for the flaring of his nostrils.

The Prince had been in a good mood prior to this, and to say that he felt angry was an understatement. Though he had been busy this past week, preoccupied with stragetising the quashing some stupid resistance, he truly did not anticipate that you would organise a marriage on your own so quickly. He now realises that this was never something you were incapable of.

He also did not anticipate that anyone would be foolish enough to go against him again, especially not so soon after the war.

You were quite nervous when you met the master of the laws, but Jayse continuously reassured you that you had nothing to worry about. He told you that you were intelligent, pretty and his father would be a fool to expect anything more.

What you avoided telling the young Wylde was that you worried not of bad impressions, but that his father would strike down your courting immediately, by virtue of your identity. You were not a fool, and you realised that your lack of suitors was not due to your plain appearance or your house’s lack of influence, but due to certain dragons behind the scene. This was exactly what your father discretely warned you about, you felt silly for failing to realise it for so long.

Though you felt comfortable at King’s Landing now, for how long would it last? You were not blind, and you knew that the wayward Prince had at least a remote interest in you. Even he was not in the picture, what of the possessiveness of the Queens? Though you previously fantasised living an independent life, being away from your home and family made you detest yourself for being so ungrateful and ignorant. The life of being a spinster maid now felt like an awful fate, as did becoming a mistress to Prince Aemond. It would not be possible for him to wed someone of such little affluence like yourself, not that it mattered as you knew that you were merely a temporary folly to him, and nothing more. You might as well have been a human attraction in a visiting spectacle to him.

Thankfully though, evening tea went well. The well-spoken Jasper Wylde, though incredibly misogynistic, never ceased to be polite and understanding, and conversation was as pleasant as it could be, though you definitely restrained your tongue many times. The elder Wylde asked about your father, as they knew each other. You proceeded to tell him about some of your father’s exploits, such as his recent trade deal with a Dornish merchant family. This arrangement had introduced the steady import of lavish textiles, a prospect which relieved you immensely, as it has brought in a much-needed income for the household, whose debts seemed ever growing. You also assured the patriarch that a letter has been sent to her parents, informing them of the serious courting currently occurring.

Though untraditional, Jasper accepted this. Like his son, he knew the value of having you in the family, and this process needed to be expediated as quick as possible, so as to avoid the repercussions from the Royal Family. Though Jasper is not one to take such risks, his favoured son had already started, and this was not something that could be easily returned from.

As the evening came to its decline, the council member excused himself, stating that he went to bed early. You felt satisfied with how the introduction went. As you said your goodbyes, Jayse offered to escort to your bedroom. Naturally, you accepted, and the two of you set off. As you walked, the two of you remained in comfortable silence, at least until you neared your chambers. The hall was empty, which was not abnormal as fewer noblewomen have been serving the Queens as of late, resulting in this area of the Keep’s solitude.

“Why don’t you leave with me?” Jayse’s deep voice through the hallway.

You halted, turning to look at him, wide-eyed. Though you have been an active participant, you did not have any expectations for how this courting process would proceed. You have never done anything like this, and truthfully, it still felt like a fantasy.

At the very least, your parents needed to know of this courting, and Jayse had yet to propose your engagement. However, the young Wylde would still be staying for another week, and perhaps, with at their current rate, the prospect is realistic. Surely the Queens would understand your departure. Queen Helaena’s earlier compassion came to memory, and you felt hopeful.

That is, only for a brief moment.

As you opened your mouth to respond, you were suddenly pushed aside, though not harshly. Whilst you did not fall, you felt your soul leave your body. Because in the blink of an eye, you saw a familiar long-haired blonde, pouncing on the young Wylde with no difficulty at all.

For a brief period of time, you were in disbelief of what was happening. You have read stories about violence and bloodshed daily since childhood, but this was the first time you truly witnessed it directly.

In front of you was Prince Aemond, savagely striking your suitor repeatedly, with no difficulty. Whether Jayse put up a fight, you could not say, because when you came to your senses, his face was bloody and unrecognisable. He was unconscious by the time you found your voice, and Aemond showed no indication of stopping. Though his back was facing you, the only sound in the empty hallways was his heavy breathing and a horrid cracking sound. It was this sound that snapped you into your senses.

“Aemond, please, please, stop this!” You yelled through your sobs. You did not even realise that you were crying. But the Prince did not stop, and you proceeded to repeat yourself, again and again. He would not stop however, and you did not know what to do.

You tried to wrap your arms around his waist, but instead, you were mistakenly knocked away. Aemond, blinded by his violent rage, did not even realise. But you were not one to be easily dismayed, and tried again, until you managed to wrap your arms around him. His movements were vicious, and you knew that you would be bruised, at the very least, as collateral damage. Yet you remained, hugging him tighter and begging him until he finally stopped.

You do not know when it was that he halted, but it felt like forever. As you held him tightly, he continued shaking, and you along with him. You were still sobbing, and whether the back of his shirt was damp from sweat or your tears, you could not say. But you remained that way, terrified that if you let him go, he would continue until he murdered Jayse. That is, if he survived this beating.

As the Prince’s breathing slowed, he placed his hands on yours, and unclasped you from himself, turning around to face you. You kept your eyes shut however, afraid to see the damage. You could feel the sleek wetness of the Prince’s hands, and you knew that it was Jayse’s blood, now coating your own hands.

With vehemence, Aemond grabbed hold of your jaw, and the rigid action and the coldness of his damp hands made you open your eyes in surprised. Your eyes were bloodshot, and you were still crying, but that only seemed to satisfy Aemond. Cruelly, the Prince spoke.

“Is not clear to you? How can someone so clever act so dim? What else must I do for you to understand?” Harshly pulling your face to his, Aemond continued, almost spitting his words. “Your place is here with us now. With me.”

Grabbing hold of your waist, the Prince pulled you closer, and you tried shaking your head in defiance, but failed, as Aemond tightened his grip. Moving aside, the Prince pulled on your chin, making face Jayse. The sight made you physically ill, and you immediately shut your eyes.

What you saw was no longer Jayse, but a remnant of who he physically was. Pulling you face back to his, the Prince continued, though you truly wish he had not.

“You do not belong to some fucking insolent lord of nowhere. You belong to me. What must I do for you to understand, to behave?” His words reminded you to those from the first night, and you start shaking even more profusely.

“Let it be clear without any doubt.” You suddenly felt his harsh grip on your face release, and suddenly, a soft hand caressed gently caressed your cheeks, and he changed his tone of speech into something soft, as if he were a lover whispering sweet words into your ear.

“Open your eyes, my lamb.” That stupid nickname only made you shut your eyes more tightly.

Suddenly, the Prince screamed: “Open your eyes, woman! Or perhaps I should finish what I started.”

With this threat, you opened your eyes and grasped hold of his waist again, incredibly tightly. You did this to hopefully stop him, but the Prince interpreted your actions differently. Smiling for the first time since seeing you, he hugged you, and proceeded to stroke your hair gently. The thought of Jayse’s blood in your hair made you feel even more ill, but you swallowed down anything that threatened to escape. The only thing that calmed you down was the fact that you could now hear laboured breathing coming from Jayse. He seems to be unconscious, but alive, and that is all that mattered to you at that point.

Though he still firmly held your waist, you let go of the Prince, and reached up to gently grab his face, cupping it. Aemond was surprised by this, not expecting you to calm down, but here you were, directing his attention and speaking in an even tone.

“I will do whatever you want, whatever it is that you ask for. I will not try to leave, you have my word.” Aemond truly felt like he was in heaven, hearing those words leave your mouth. Though you were sobbing no more, a tear escaped your eye. “But please, my Prince. I beg of you, please, help me bring him to the infirmary.”

Ignoring the last part of your request, Aemond stared at you with his dilated eye, and smiled sincerely, before responding.

“Anything?”

“Anything. I promise.”

The Prince proceed to bring his face to yours, nestling his nose near your left ear, while whispering.

“Tell me that you are mine.”

Swallowing your pride, you comply.

“I am yours.”

“Say it again.”

He reminded you of a child, in need of constant reassurance. You wished you could just slap him, but you were desperate, and you knew that Jayse’s life was in your hands now. You do the only thing you could think of. Tilting your head to your left, you lean forward and chastely press your lips against the Prince’s, hoping that this satisfies him. Pulling away, you feel your lips tingle, and realise that his lip was bloody. It was his own, the fresh copper taste stinging in your mouth. So Jayse did put up a fight. I’m glad.

Aemond remained silent, staring at you wide-eyed and now breathing rabidly. You feel at a loss, so you try again. This time, pressing your lips against his more harshly, you kiss him for a moment longer, before pulling away and cupping his face in your hands.

“Please, Aemond.”

Your voice was dripping with desperation, and the Prince could almost convince himself that you were begging for something else. It took significant will power to ground himself, and with a sigh, he untangled himself from you, and turned around, kneeling down to pick up the unconscious man.

“Your room is close. Leave. Have a bath. I have seen many dead men, he will be fine.”

You try to protest, adamant to go to the infirmary as well, to ensure that Jayse is treated, but the Prince quickly silences you with a harsh stare. He looked like he was about to drop the injured man, and the prospect terrified you.

In a low, warning tone, the Prince spoke.

“You promised.”

Feeling defeated, you turned and hastily leave. Before turning the corner, you glance back, and see the one-eyed Prince still watching you. All you could do now, was to trust him and hope he is being truthful. You turn, and head to your chambers, preparing yourself for a long, sleepless night.

I felt feral today and chose to neglect my responsibilities in order to draft this chapter. Hope you enjoyed! I make no promises about when the next chapter will be written, although it may be done before the season finale releases ;)

In case you also want to listen to the songs I had on repeat for the entire day today, here is my playlist for the fic! I have also posted this on AO3, incase you prefer that platform 

– Chapter 3

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond image #aemond targeryen imagine #imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #aemondtargaryen!thots #aemon targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x oc

[zapreportsblog]

Yandere Aemon Targaryen ( Jaehaerys 1 son)

❝you and I will rule together❞

✭ pairing : yandere aemon targaryen x reader

✭ fandom : game of thrones

✭ summary : aemon targaryen is a known as the ruthless prince and it’s a wonder to the people how he managed to get with a sweet young women such as (y/n), wherever she goes, he lurks in the background watching her every move.

✭ authors note : yeo I turnt his picture around and now it’s fucking with me 😭

✭ yandere masterlist

In the realm of Westeros, tales of the Targaryens had always been shrouded in mystery and intrigue. Stories of dragons, madness, and power were whispered through the halls of King's Landing. Yet, amidst the legends and blood feuds, one Targaryen stood out in a different way - Prince Aemon Targaryen.

Aemon Targaryen was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms as the Ruthless Prince. His demeanor was cold and calculating, his words sharper than Valyrian steel. His reputation for cunning, ambition, and a ruthless determination to achieve his goals preceded him wherever he went. Many pondered how such a man could ever find solace in the arms of a woman, especially one with a reputation as sweet and gentle as his wife, (Y/N).

(Y/N) was a stark contrast to her husband in every way imaginable. Her smile was a beacon of warmth in a world that seemed perpetually shrouded in shadows. Her kindness and compassion had won the hearts of all who had the privilege of knowing her. But what truly puzzled the court and commoners alike was how Prince Aemon, the feared and obsessed protector of his wife, could ever have found love in the first place.

Their union had been a source of endless fascination, for Aemon had always been notorious for his affairs and dalliances. He had indulged in passionate liaisons with countless women, including his younger niece, before the day he married (Y/N). Yet, as soon as their wedding vows were exchanged, a transformation occurred. Aemon's infidelity ceased, and the relentless pursuit of his desires turned towards his wife.

It was said that he had been obsessed with her long before their marriage, though few dared to speak of it openly. Some whispered that he had been captivated by her ethereal beauty, her radiant kindness, and her unwavering loyalty to him. Others believed that it was something darker, an obsession that consumed him entirely, making him willing to forsake all others for her.

Regardless of the reasons behind their union, one thing was certain: Aemon Targaryen was fiercely protective of his wife, (Y/N). Wherever she went, he was never far behind, though often he remained concealed in the shadows, lurking like a silent sentinel. It was as though he believed himself to be her unseen guardian, sworn to protect her from any harm that might befall her.

The courtiers of King's Landing often gossiped about the strange relationship between the Ruthless Prince and his sweet wife. Some speculated that he kept her locked away in their chambers, a delicate bird in a gilded cage. Others claimed to have witnessed tender moments between the two, glimpses of a love that defied the prince's reputation.

As the tales of Prince Aemon and (Y/N) continued to unfold, it became clear that their union was far more complex and enigmatic than anyone could have imagined. The Ruthless Prince had indeed been tamed, but the reasons behind this transformation remained hidden, buried beneath layers of secrecy, obsession, and the shadows that clung to them both.

The court of King's Landing was always abuzz with rumors and speculation about Prince Aemon and his sweet wife, (Y/N). Some said that their marriage was nothing more than a strategic alliance, a move to solidify power and alliances in the ever-shifting game of thrones. Others believed that there was something deeper, something hidden beneath the surface.

(Y/N) moved gracefully through the courtly affairs, her gentle smile lighting up even the darkest corners of the Red Keep. She was a beloved figure among the nobility and commoners alike, known for her charitable deeds and her ability to bring a sense of calm to the chaos of the capital.

But as beloved as she was, there was always a lingering unease whenever the conversation turned to her husband. Aemon Targaryen was a man of sharp edges and unpredictable moods. His obsession with (Y/N) was undeniable, and it was often the source of hushed whispers among the courtiers.

Whenever she attended social gatherings or events, Aemon's presence was felt, if not seen. He remained hidden in the shadows, a vigilant guardian who watched over his wife with unwavering devotion. Some found his protectiveness endearing, a testament to the depths of his love. Others couldn't help but feel a shiver of discomfort at the way he loomed, unseen but ever-present.

Aemon's transformation from a notorious philanderer to a devoted husband had been abrupt and mysterious. It was as though a switch had been flipped on the day they were wed, and his former pursuits were cast aside. No longer did he entertain the company of other women, no longer did he engage in reckless liaisons that had once been the talk of the court.

The court's intrigue only deepened as time passed. (Y/N) seemed content in her role as the beloved wife of the Ruthless Prince, but there were moments when glimpses of unease flickered in her eyes. Those who were closest to her noticed the subtle changes in her demeanor, the way her laughter sometimes sounded forced, and the hints of sadness that occasionally clouded her bright spirit.

As the court's whispers grew louder, one question remained unanswered: What had driven Aemon Targaryen, the Ruthless Prince, to forsake his past and become the shadowy protector of (Y/N)? What secrets lay beneath the surface of their marriage, and what price had been paid for their union?

The sun hung high in the sky as (Y/N) strolled through the bustling marketplace of King's Landing, her heartlighter than usual. The aroma of exotic spices, the calls of vendors haggling, and the vibrant colors of fabrics and trinkets surrounded her. Despite the lively scene, there was a persistent absence by her side, a shadow that never strayed too far.

"Sweet King," she whispered, her voice gentle as a summer breeze. It was the affectionate nickname she had bestowed upon her husband, Prince Aemon. She paused her steps, glancing over her shoulder towards the concealed figure lurking among the crowds. "Would you come out from the shadows and walk beside me today?"

Aemon hesitated, his silver hair concealed beneath a hood as he observed his wife from afar. He had always been vigilant, his eyes sharp and wary. But at her request, he reluctantly emerged from the shadows, his presence sending ripples of unease through the marketplace.

His tall figure materialized beside (Y/N), and for a moment, the people of King's Landing seemed to hold their breath. The Ruthless Prince, now visible in the daylight, was an imposing sight. But as his wife took his arm, her smile warm and welcoming, some of the tension dissipated.

As they strolled through the market, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. Her husband had a reputation as the ultimate protector, a guardian that lurked in the darkness. Yet today, he had yielded to her request, stepping into the light by her side.

Amidst the stalls and vendors, (Y/N) stopped at a jewelry merchant's cart, her eyes sparkling as she admired a delicate necklace adorned with sapphires. She exchanged a few words with the merchant and handed over a few coins, and he, in turn, reached out to give her the purchased item.

Aemon's watchful eyes never left her, even for a moment. He saw the merchant's hand brush against (Y/N)'s as he handed her the necklace, a seemingly innocent gesture of transaction. But to Aemon, it was an intrusion, an unwarranted touch that sent a jolt of anger through him.

Later, in the privacy of their chambers, Aemon summoned the merchant who had dared to touch his wife. The man, trembling with fear, stood before the Ruthless Prince, unaware of the storm that was about to descend upon him.

With a swift, merciless stroke, Aemon ordered the man's hand to be severed, a gruesome punishment for what he had perceived as an act of disrespect towards his beloved (Y/N). The merchant cried out in agony, his life forever altered.

When (Y/N) came to her husband with questions in her eyes, her voice trembling with concern, Aemon held her close, his arms a shield around her. "My perfect little dove," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with an underlying intensity. "I saw that man doing something unspeakable with his hands before he touched you. I couldn't let him near you."

(Y/N) was mildly horrified by the brutality of her husband's response, but she didn't doubt his words. She had always trusted Aemon's judgment, even when his actions seemed extreme. Nestled in his protective embrace, she nodded and whispered, "I know you'll always keep me safe, Sweet King."

The enigmatic shadows that clung to their marriage deepened, and the secrets that bound them together remained hidden from the prying eyes of the court. As they held each other close, Prince Aemon and his sweet wife (Y/N) faced a future filled with uncertainties, their devotion to each other stronger than ever, and their love veiled in mystery.

Late that day, as the moonlight gently cascaded through the curtains, Aemon lay beside his wife, watching her peaceful slumber. He couldn't help but be captivated by the delicate contours of her face, tracing his fingers softly over her features.

Whispering tenderly, he shared his deepest promises, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. "I'll always be there for you, no matter what," he murmured, his words filled with unwavering devotion. "When I am king, you will rule beside me as queen, sharing in the power and responsibilities that come with it."

His heart swelled with affection as he imagined a future where she stood by his side, their love a beacon of strength and unity. "By my side is your rightful place, your birthright," he continued, his hand resting gently on her stomach, envisioning a time when it would be rounded with their heirs.

In that moment, the room seemed to hold an air of anticipation, as if the dreams they shared were on the brink of becoming reality. Aemon's mind raced with thoughts of the legacy they would create together, a dynasty built on love and unity.

As he watched her breathing steady and calm, he felt a surge of gratitude for the woman lying beside him. She was not only his partner in life but also the embodiment of everything he held dear. Her strength, grace, and unwavering support were the foundations upon which his dreams were built.

With a gentle touch, he pressed his lips against her forehead, sealing his promises with a silent vow. In that quiet moment, Aemon knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them with unwavering determination. For his wife, his love, and the future they would forge together, he would give his all.

As sleep finally began to claim him, Aemon held her close, cherishing the warmth and comfort they found in each other's embrace. The night was filled with whispered dreams and the tender hopes of a future that seemed closer than ever before.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #game of thrones #game of thrones aemon #aemond targaryen #aemon x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones x you #yandere masterlist #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines #aemon x you #aemon x y/n #aemon targaryen x you #aemon targaryen x y/n #aemon targaryen x reader #yandere aemon targaryen #yandere aemon #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere aemon targaryen imagine #yandere aemon targaryen imagines #yandere aemon imagine #yandere aemon imagines

[maidragoste]

Sapphire

part of the universe of "the queen and her husbands"

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, it really motivates me to keep writing 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

In the first months of Aemond's return to King's Landing, he never removes the patch around his children. He is afraid of their reaction to seeing his scar and that he lacks an eye. He is sure that Aemon and Baelon will be afraid if they see him and he could not bear his children to be afraid of him again. He does not want to return to the first days of his return where they cried every time he tried to raise them. So he always has the patch. It doesn't matter how many times you insist on your husband who took it out when you four are alone and you assure you that nothing bad will happen, he doesn't want to risk it.

Until a warm day, Aemond can no longer bear the patch and decides to remove it for a moment just because Aemon is asleep in his lap and plans to put it back before his son wakes up. Aemond is so absorbed in his reading that he does not realize that Aemon is awake until he feels a small hand touching his face. The prince looks at him expectantly, ready to listen to a cry or a scream but that doesn't happen.

And when you enter the chambers and you find one of your children standing in your husband's lap trying to remove the sapphire from his eye you cannot help laughing. You are not surprised after all, your children seem obsessed with playing and playing with the sapphire of your necklace.

Later when Baelon returns from spending the afternoon with his grandmother and Aemond has his patch again. You and your husband are sitting on the floor playing with the twins when Aemon proudly shows his twin his new discovery, raising the Aemond patch and exposing the sapphire. You notice how your husband is tense fearing that maybe Baelon reacted badly and smiled at him waiting to give him a little confidence.

Then Baelon shouts excitedly and now it is both twins who try to remove their dad's sapphire.

You laugh while you get up and rise to Baelon moving away from Aemond.

"I told you that you had nothing to worry about," you say smiling and dodging Baelon's little kicks.

To the consternation of Aemon, your husband also gets out on the floor. He looks at him for a moment before playing with his other toys.

"Do you want me to tell you that this time you were right?" says Aemond, taking Baelon away from you, he would rather suffer from a kick than you end up hurt.

"I'm always right"

"No, you don't."

Before you can complain Aemond kisses you making you forget about any thoughts.

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#the queen and her husbands #I missed writing them and this universe #aemond headcanons #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x wife!reader #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #aemond fluff #dad aemond #dad!aemond #hotd fluff #oc: baelon targaryen #oc: aemon targaryen

[phthalomushroom]

The Family

next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, slight panic attack

word count: 1.34k

note: first writing I’m releasing to the world - it is what it is at this point. also working on the title so it probably will not stay that.

The train’s horn pulled you out of the stupor of your book. Your attention drew to the bustling city of King’s Landing that passed by your window. The train was pulling up to the platform and you had half a mind to stay seated until the train left for the next destination. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you could have rejected the job your remote internship had offered and found something to do in Winterfell. 

But then you caught sight of the white dreads from the crowd, holding a “welcome home” sign and felt the nerves dissipate. You grinned, standing and grabbing your bag. After pushing through the crowd, you were finally face to face with your childhood friend.

Beala welcomed you with open arms. “Four years is too long.”

You shook your head, squeezing Beala once more before pulling away. “You act like you didn’t come to visit.” 

“Having to take a ten hour train ride to Winterfell is vastly different than a one minute walk to your room. I’m glad to have my roommate back.” 

“I’m happy to see you too.” 

You grinned linking arms with her as you both ventured to the streets of King’s Landing. You walked down the sidewalk, briefly filling Baela in on all that recently happened in Winterfell. Up the street, however, you noted the black sedan pulling around the corner, your steps faltered. On instinct you ducked into the nearest store, pulling Baela with you. Luckily, the store you found shelter in was a quaint little bakery, one that seemed new to the block.

Baela knew what you were doing as you both tried to get as deep as you could into the store, keeping an eye on the sedan that drove past the windows. 

You hadn’t done this in years, you realized. Hadn’t needed to hide in a store, hadn’t needed to look over your shoulder wondering if someone was coming to get you, wondering if someone was following you. It was too easy to slip back into old habits. 

“Can I help you with something?”

You were pulled from your thoughts, looking at the kind cashier.

You cleared your dry throat. “No, just looking.”

Baela took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You're okay, we’re okay.”

You nodded. You knew that. You weren’t involved with the Targaryens anymore which meant you were normal, which meant no more targets on your back. But that didn’t stop your heart from racing. That didn’t stop the nervous sweat that broke out along your skin. It certainly didn’t stop you from laying a hand over the scar on your abdomen. 

“We can go now.”

You nodded, willing your legs to follow Baela outside and along the sidewalk. If only to keep your mind from racing did you begin noting the stores you passed.

You once knew these streets like the back of your hand, now as you looked around it was so different. The shops that now littered the streets were bustling, which was usual during the evening rush but so many of the shops you had grown up with seemed to be replaced with imposters.

“What happened to Clarico's?” Your voice was dry but it gained its strength. You noticed the shop that was once a popular corner store you had frequented as a teen, was now left vacant and boarded up. 

“Uhm, there was a… situation.”

“Oh?” Baela avoided your eyes. You let out a long breath, calming your still racing heart. “So not much has changed.”

You pushed the thoughts that began to bubble in your mind, you needed to be here - with Baela. Not with him, not in the past. 

She pulled you tighter to her, like the past was gonna pull you away. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

********

Baela and your apartment was the same as you had left it all those years ago. The same one eared cat that perched on the concrete steps outside the building. The same broken elevator that had been a death trap since you moved in. The same creaky stairs. 

Baela hadn’t changed much of the apartment since you left either. When you walked through the door that familiar vanilla scent hit you.

There was an ongoing joke between you and Baela after her boyfriend, Jace, wondered aloud one day how it always smelled like vanilla but he never saw the candle burn. Baela and you had looked at eachother and instantly knew what had to be done. Ever since, the two of you used a plug in diffuser and kept the same vanilla candle sitting in the center of the kitchen island. It was a stupid bit that Baela seemed to have continued, even without you.

It was a strange comfort to know that even though you left and even though the city changed, you changed, Baela hadn’t. 

You went over to the living room table where a photo of Baela, Jace, her sister Rhaena, and Rhaena’s boyfriend Luce were all smiling happily at the beach. 

“You better rest up, we have dinner reservations tonight.”

Your head shot up from the photo. “Oh, no. I can’t go out tonight.”

Baela grinned, crossing her arms across her chest. “Why not?”

“Tired?” It was a pathetic lie on your part. 

From the look on her face she wasn’t buying it. “He isn’t in the city.”

You set the photo back on the table, rubbing your finger over a groove in the wood. “Who?”

She smirked. “The person you’ve been trying to forget the last four years. Aemond.”

The name sent a shiver through you. In all honesty you had forgotten him- or at least convinced yourself you did. And you had forgotten about him on your walk with Baela, doing your best to concentrate on the now. It took you four years to try to forget the pain of Aemond Targaryen. But the last thing you wanted was to see him.

Four years didn’t seem long enough now. 

You walked over to the kitchen table, taking a seat on one of the chairs. “And who told you he’s not in the city?”

Baela joined you at the table. “Jace.”

Your brows rose. “If he knows Aemond’s business then he’s…”

“Yeah. He’s been with the family officially since you left. He’s really happy, we’re really happy.”

You nodded. “You’re okay… with all of it?” 

Everything that came with being part of the Targaryen family. 

But it was more than a family. It was a business, a business that was generations old and had its control over every aspect of this city. Some parts of the family business even had influence beyond King’s Landing. 

It’s why you went to Winterfell. It was the farthest place you could think of where a certain Targaryen couldn’t reach you. 

Baela ran her finger over a groove on the table. “I love him. He made his choice and I… I’ll stand with him.”

You saw the hesitation in her eyes, the worry. You wondered if your face reflected hers when your mother asked you a similar question all those years ago. 

Is your love strong enough for what he’ll become?

But back then you thought nothing of your mothers questions. 

That question now echoed through your mind. Kept you up late throughout the years.

At least now you know the answer to it.

“I’m happy that you’re happy.” You reached out a hand to Baela, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here now, less than a minute down the hall if you need me.”

“Thank you.” She stood shaking off the moment. She reached in her pocket pulling out a credit card. “Anyway, get ready Jace insisted he pay for dinner. As a welcome home.”

“Well, if he’s paying.” You smirked, standing up.

“Good, cause we’re going to Frederico’s. I know how much you’ve been craving their garlic bread.”

With that she turned, skipping down the hall to her room to begin getting ready.

You let out a long breath, maybe you should have stayed on the train.

#modern!aemon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemon targaryen x reader #targaryen #fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #hold au #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #modern hotd #hold x reader #modern mob au #mob au #aemond modern au #modern aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fic #mafia au #mafia!aemond

[darkestspring]

Hello. Came to mind. What would Yandere Aemon and Yandere Baelon's reactions be? His sisters, Saera and Viserra, treat the dear reader badly. They say that their brothers should choose them because they are both true Targaryens.

hmmmmm, to be honest, i don't see saera and viserra as they type to treat reader badly, they might honestly might spill all the stalking that baelon and aemon do just to rile them up because they think it's fun but i don't think they'd treat reader badly but while baelon and aemon are charming and chivalrous, they're also extremely violent towards those that anger them.

(i also can't see them using the fact that they're true targaryens as the reason why baelon and aemon would choose them, like they'd clearly see how obsessive they are and go "let's poke the dragon." especially saera.

i think saera would befriend reader just to fuck with her brothers because she thinks its so hilarious when others are sentenced to death because of their jealousy.

#saera says 'if you don't get them pregnant they'll choose someone else' just to sow chaos and laughs hysterically when its announced a- #month later that reader is pregnant #yandere baelon targaryen #baelon targaryen x reader #aemon targaryen x reader

[atopvisenyashill]

Lyanna gave Jon a Targaryen name. She hated Rhaegar so much she did that? Or are you saying that was a show invention as well like their marriage?

#you are not dead ass trying to tell me that you believe lyanna named him aegon 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 #anti rhaegar x lyanna #anti game of thrones #once again i am saying that this a THEORY. #and naming him like. aemon after aemon the dragon knight a renown knight and romantic figure does not mean lyanna liked rhaegar’s flop ass. #when we literally have several freys named after targaryens 😭😭

[yourimaginationrealm]

You: „What a final tribute from Aemond. Regarding this, you are probably willing to turn a blind eye to what happened in the past.-!“

Daemon: „Y/N.“

You: „I don’t think he is so ‚piggy‘ about my comment towards him, right Aemond?!“

Your brothers behind you snickered a bit and stopped immediately as Aemond slammed again his hands to the table.

Aemond: „Of course, Y/N. I hoping already some time to meet my nephews again eye to eye.“

Rhaenyra: „Y/N, please take your brothers to their rooms…“

Aemond: „What a shame, I would love to exchange more words with my lovely beautiful niece. I don’t believe you would mind and Daemon of course that we interact more-!“

Daemon stand up with his gaze boring towards Aemond.

Daemon: „Y/N, you should go now.“

You: „Alright Daemon. Jaehaerys and Lucerys follow me.“ Sending a glance towards Aemond as you mouthed in silence „Game on!“

Aemond turns around laughing as he get some runt from his mother.

#imaginationrealm #imagines #anime #anime imagines #game of thrones #house of the dragon #hotd #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x you #hotd aemond #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #hotd Imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemon targaryen imagine #lucerys velaryon #jaehaerys velaryon

[amethystmpress]

the black bastard & the stormborn (daredevil and elektra au) ✩

you desperately want to belong somewhere, with someone, which is the real reason why you sneak into fancy parties... you know what your problem is? you're pretty, you even work the blind thing, but you're dumb.

is it good? this uh... life as a queen. it's fantastic. but i would trade it all in for a lifetime of smelling your skin.

there is always this glorious darkness inside of you, the blood of the dragon and the wolf. that's why i took you to petyr baelish, and yes it's why i loved you, that's why you loved me too. don't deny what we have.

i want to know how you found me. i know who you are because lord bloodraven trains me in his visions. i saw you beat down the bolton bastard. i wear a mask. well, you can't mask that ass. i'd know it anywhere.

so, what if... from now on... if we make it... wherever you run, i run with you? you're not serious. i've never been more serious. this... dany, this is a part of me that i need. and you're the only one who gets it. without this, i'm not alive. i'm not. not really. i don't know what we are together, and if we have any chance in the future... but i do know that i'm free with you. like with no one else.

HAPPY NEW YEARS (BIRTHDAY) SOFI ♥

#daenerys targaryen #jon snow #jonerys #matt x elektra #daredevil #okay so here is the au 🫴 #maester aemon adopts dany from essos after her family dies to make a home with her at the wall #the proximity to bloodraven (stick) allows him to communicate and train her for the war for the dawn #he tasks her with recruiting the one remaining targaryen in westeros and she falls in love with him while pursuing and seducing him #jump to jonny #who was blinded in an accident while saving robb when he was younger #which caused his greenseeing and warg senses to be heightened #after the death of his father catelyn sends him to the wall where he too is connected with bloodraven #dany and jon become friends at the wall #dany as aemon's steward has authority to get up to stuff and be cute at the wall #which includes roping her nephew into shenanigans sometimes shirtless #even though he is a baby nights watch recruit #the roscoe sweeny incident in this case is petyr baelish bc he was responsible for ned's death duh #but you have to suspend your disbelief for a second bc lbr #jon would have no problems killing baelish pre- or post-resurrection #dany disappears from the wall while jon proceeds with his acok timeline #during which time he adopts the vigilante identity 'the black bastard' #to search for his uncle and fight wildling rayders and keep his own men in line during the night and practice warging ghost #ik so far it seems like i've attributed matt to jon and elektra to dany entirely but realistically they're a mesh of both characters #don't think this au is as simple as 'dany dark targaryen seducing jonorable jon stark' no that is boring #aka it's jon who is the black sky (black bastard hello) who will die and be resurrected #HE is the one who will curl up in dany's bed as he regains memory of her #'the stormborn' is supposed to be a play on the electric part of elektra 😭 #i love you sofi <3 #my gifs

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hii cutie! Sorry bc my first language it's not English.. First of all I LOVE your writing you do write so sweet about everything and I love that you write about actors too with all the respect!! I was wondering.. I hope it's not too much, if you'd be able to do smth like ewan x actress!reader where she plays his love interest in hotd and they're so comfortable with each other and everyone in the cast can see the chemistry between them but they're afraid of showing their feelings to each other and just think that's just friendship, but somehow someone tries to open the eyes to one of them making the other one jealous and... You know, just write it however you want and of course if you want it, I trust you for this one!! Thanks sweetheart <3

Easy To Be

Ewan Mitchel x Actress!Reader (low key Aemond x Reader)

Summary: "It's really hard to be cruel to you," Ewan mutters. I snort, "if that's hard, then it must be hell to have to kiss me." He hums, "quite contrary," he looks off to nowhere, "I enjoy that more."

Word Count: <500

Warnings: Fem!reader, actress!reader, it starts off pretty violent, fluff, pining, annoying!cast members, crack fic, typos, etc.

A/N: Idk why i'm writing this when my head hurts but i hope you enjoy nonnie though i did take liberties!!! OH WAIT I ALSO WANTED TO SAY DONT *EVER* APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR ENGLISH. ENGLISH WISHES IT MADE MORE SENSE /: AND gurl your english was flawless 🤨 fr you better than me. THANK YOU BY THE WAY FOR YOUR SWEET WORDS ABOUT MY WRITING! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU AND I LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @antisociablewallflower @lxdyred

Aemond shoves me against the wall and presses me back, hands on both of my shoulders. He huffs, "you must think me either a fool or insane."

I whimper as I try to break away, "no, I know you're insane."

He scoffs and he grabs my jaw, titling my head up just as he draws his dagger and presses it against my cheek, "and do you think I think you're special?"

I make a sound as he tightens his hold on my face. "It will do you good to remember," he leans against my ear, "I can be betrothed to a great many other women. You ought to not test me again."

He shoves away as he storms out of the room.

"CUT!"

I release a sigh and gather my dress as a bunch of stylists come up to redo my make up and fix my wardrobe.

Once that was done, Aemond, or rather, Ewan walks back to his mark and looks at me, "are you alright?"

I smile, "a little rough this time around, but all good."

Immediately he stiffens and walks up to me, grabbing my hand, "shit, I'm sorry. Does it hurt somewhere?"

I grab his arm and step forward, "no, no," I shake my head, "it was just a really intense grip," I make a face, "it was kinda hot-"

"BOO GET A ROOM!"

Ewan and I turn to our side.

Someone makes hurling noises. "KISS, KISS, KISS, KISS-"

"Why are you even here?" I quirk a brow, "you don't even have a sce-"

"YOU TWO ARE GROSS, JUST KISS ALREADY!"

Ewan rolls his eyes and turns back to me.

"EWAN IF YOU DON'T KISS HER, I SWEAR TO FUCK I WILL."

Ewan huffs and looks to the side, "and shall I stab you instead?"

My eyes widen at his reaction. The morons lose their shit after hearing that.

He turns back to me and with knit brows, "I will be more gentle next take."

"No, it's fine," I shake my head, trying to ignore the way I was burning up, "I can take it. Honestly, I'm more concerned about how you keep stepping on my dress."

Ewan brings his hands together and chuckles, "sorry. I'm quite eager. I be more mindful of my steps."

I smile some more.

"-I CAN'T BELIEVE HE ACTUALLY SAID THAT THOUGH!"

We continue to ignore them.

"It's fine, Ewan. Just don't trip on me or we'll both get hurt."

He nods. "It's really hard to be cruel to you," Ewan mutters.

I snort, "if that's hard, then it must be hell to have to kiss me."

He hums, "quite contrary," he looks off to nowhere, "I enjoy that more."

"... w-what-"

"WAIT, WHAT DID HE SAY?!"

#aemond fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemon targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond one eye #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fluff #ewan mitchell x you #rpf fanfic

[absurduty]

just got left in delivered by a talking stage and am now speaking to this swedish boy I ignored for my talking stage (🤡), so WHO WANTS ASOIAF SMUT TO CELEBRATE 😜

#aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #fanfiction #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #aegon targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #jaehaerys targaryen #jaehaerys x reader #cregan stark #cregan x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #targaryen reader #trystane martell #dorne #asoiaf #baelor targaryen #baelor the blessed #aemon targaryen #jacaerys x you #robin arryn #the vale #the eyrie #house arryn #fire and blood #targaryen

[hederasgarden]

Smutty Idea for Aemond

This last episode (and this gif in particular) gave me a very NSFW idea about Aemond.

I am already 500 words into this imagining of him coming to see his lady wife after a battle, riding high on blood lust and full of a desperate need to be inside her….Just possessive and rough but still oddly loving and vulnerable because he'd remove his eye patch and press their foreheads together.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd spoilers #hotd fanfic

[alyshiba]

Lilagon hen zaldrizoti

Part Eleven: Breakfasts

Read on Ao3

Summary: AU where Visenya, Rhaenyra's only daughter lives and is born as her eldest child. To all of Westeros she is seen as the only trueborn child of Ser Leanor and Rhaenyra, but in truth her father happens to be Deamon.

Author's note: Hi all, I know this chapter is short, and not re-read, so you might find some typos (in chase, if you wish to, feel free to point them out so I can correct them faster).

For Aemond's POV I used as reference this AMAZING character study made by @museumofmythoughts here on tumblr, as I red it I personally found it to be very, very accurate. And honestly it was in complete sync with who I think Aemond is as a person.

Anyhow... other than this fantastic post, inspiration has kind of failed me lately, mostly becouse looking back at the beginning of this fic, I think I rushed too many events, and there are a lot of decision I onestly regret in the very first chapters. So I am starting to consider revriting them, but I really would like your opinion, since it could potentially involve changing some thing. In chase you find time to give me feedback in this, please, do not hold back if you find some things to be shitty, I really value your opinions. As always I'll link the two maps I use as references, so you can follow the path of our favourite war criminals: Tthis map of Westeros from AWOIAF and this isochronic map of Westeros.

Warning: mention of trauma, mention of violence.

Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Aemond woke when the sun was up in the sky. He quickly rolled over on his back, and, thank the gods, the pain that had taken over the ruined side of his face had faded, as if it’s never been there in the first place.

He fixed his gaze on the ceiling of his room, it was painted white, or plastered, he couldn’t tell, but the stone’s texture underneath was still visible, no matter how many coats the stonemasons had covered it with.

He groaned and sat up. His clothes were neatly folded and placed on the wooden settle at the foot of the bed, and he could spot several dishes, his breakfast or lunch, served on the table on the other side of the room.

A sense of annoyance unrolled in his stomach, he was a prince of the realm, how could the guards simply let anyone inside his rooms while he slept? With a war raging and Oldtown at its center?

In the weeks that he had spent in his mother’s ancestral home, Aemond had noticed how everything was unfit to represent the dowager Queen. Guards were slow and lazy, the watch shifts always covered the same patterns, at the same hours, and the same guards tended to them. And they spent almost the entire shift gossiping and drinking. 

And no matter how many times he pointed out their inadequate safety measure, all that Ormund responded with was how impregnable the tower was, how anyone has ever taken it, how no one was foolish enough to attack the center of the faith.

Every time he begged to disagree, to say that a host of northerners was on his way, and that if they successfully repelled them, a dragon would soon follow. The same dragon that melted down Storm’s End.

And every time the words died in his throat. 

Aemond lazily stood, covered his body with a green silken robe and decided to break his fast.

He began to study his food: rye bread was served on a plate, already sliced, close to it where little bowls that contain butter, honey and a red-fruit preserve, a couple of soft boiled eggs were placed on another plate, already peeled out of their shells, and a wedge of cheese sat close to them.

Aemond let out a breath, grabbed the bread and buttered it. He then dipped the tip of his knife in the preserve, and licked it. Blackberry, he thought with a disgusted expression. Honey it would be then.

While consuming his honeyed bread he began, again, to weigh out his position and options: honor imposed him to protect his lady mother, his sister -and Queen, as long as Aegon called himself King- and her children. To support his brother’s birthright as their father’s first born son. 

Yet he now had a wife, he was duty bound to protect her, as she was to obey him. 

The thought made him chuckle. 

After Lucerys’ death there was not a single way to uphold all of those duties.

Aegon wouldn’t let Visenya live, not after she had Sunfire dismembered by Balerion, if he was to take back the throne. And Aegon would be dead, should their half sister succeed in winning this war.

Yet Rhaenyra had shown affection to Helaena, even after her son’s death. Sweet Helaena that hated to be touched, or to stand too close with anyone, even their mother. 

The time for pondering his decisions was slowly coming to an end.

Aemond grabbed the eggs, cut them in half and scooped the yolk out, discarding the slimy egg white. Spread the yolks on another slice of bread, dry he thought, and finish it off with a slice of cheese.

Visenya had swore that his family would be safe, save for Aegon, clearly. So did Rhaenyra, in front of the whole of King’s Landing on the day of her coronation, with the gods as witnesses .

And as much as he resented his sister, he thought as his hand grazed his naked wound, she had kept her word even after Lucerys’ murder.

Gripping the table with his free hand he realized that, once again, he was but a helpless pawn in yet another one of his half sister, and brother’s, political headaches.

He closed his eye, breathing down to calm his nerves, to be able to keep that facade of calmness his mother had taught him to wear at all times. 

Yet as soon as he closed his remaining eye, his mind showed him a very clear image: himself, wearing Aegon’s crown, on the Iron Throne.

Aemond immediately opened his eye, pushing his body, and the chair he still sat on, far from the table. He steadied his breath and looked at his palms, as if the table had spontaneously caught fire and burned him. He clenched his fists, allowing his nails to dig in.

When was the last time he had desired anything for himself? Vhagar, was the answer. The only time Aemond did something purely for himself, was when he claimed Vhagar. And lost his eye because of it.

&lt;;< The Gods have yet to make a man who lacks the patience for absolute power >> His grandfather had once said, about Daemon -or Rhaenyra-, he didn’t remember. Was it true about him too? Probably. Likely. To say that he never before imagined himself on the Iron Throne would be a lie, the gods themselves knew that he was far better fit for it than his brother ever would. And now he had a clear path for it. 

—

The moaning air in the Dornish marches was completely different from the one of Dragonstone, nothing, in truth, compared to Dragonstone. But it was so immensely better than the stench of King’s Landing.

There were, in fact, few things worse than the capital’s stench.

The air was dry and dusty, an indication of the deserts that laid just beyond the mountain range that separated Dorne from the rest of the kingdoms. And the temperature was growing increasingly warmer as they were proceeding south west.

Another raven came, few days ago from Honeyholt. From Cregan Stark this time, signaling that they reached the allied young Lord Beesbury, whose name Visenya didn’t remember, safe and unnoticed.

So she had begun her own journey west, traveling upon Balerion at night, and paying attention to fly only on the inhabited marches, to avoid detection. It was the only way she could possibly sneak her winged behemoth halfway across Westeros.

No more words, or messages, came from Aemond. Whether he decided to turn on her or not, she would find out once they all got to Oldtown.

She hoped that she was not sending Lord Stark to his death.

There was a weak nock on the wooden doors of her chambers, or rather Ser Edric’s, and a maid entered to serve her breakfast. She was a nice girl, not far from her age, blonde and with pale blue eyes.

She simply left the plates on a table and quickly left, not sparing the princess a second sight.

Visenya reached the castle sometimes in the hour of ghosts, and spent the remainder of last night at Starfall, per Ser Edric’s suggestion, in the safety of his old bedchambers. It was the closest, safest spot she could hide waiting, the knight wrote, and the only one he truly trusted, was what he didn’t need to write. She hated being ordered around, but this time, there wasn’t really any better option.

The princess immediately eyed the lemon cakes, the freshly squeezed orange juice, and what looked like flatbread with a yellowy-paste and olives, as well as stuffed green peppers with cheese and onion and a bottle of golden dornish wine.

She quickly consumed the food, a blessing compared to the hard bread with old cheeses she had been fed at the camp in the Stormlands. Visenya knew, from experience and her father’s jokes, that food during wars was nothing more than a tool to keep bodies functioning. But this glimpse of normality was a blessing for her stomach and her mood.

There was a knock at the door. Louder this time.

A man came through the wooden doors, he wasn’t much taller than Visenya, and lean in built, in stark contrast to Edric’s tall and broad frame. Yet he shared the pale blond hair and indigo eyes her Queensguard bore. A Dayne, Visenya concluded, likely the lord of the castle, from the posture and way he handled himself.

&lt;;< My brother sent a raven, informing us of your arrival, princess >> His voice was low and soft like velvet, his words precise and calculated, a politician rather than a warrior, she judged. << I must thank you for your hospitality, my Lord >> She quietly responded, inviting the man to sit at the table, his brother’s table, << and for not poisoning me >> she chuckled, trying to ease the mood, the young Lord shared her laugh.

&lt;;< Lord Gerold Dayne, at your service >> Visenya took her time to study the man now sitting in front of her, he was clearly older than she was, but she couldn’t determine by how much. << My presence will not burden you for much, my Lord, hopefully I shall be on my way before the week ends >> She mewled, nibbling at the food in front of her. She could get used to dornish foods, Visenya decided, and to their weather, should the need ever rise, the princess decided, she could settle for a new dornish husband. << To wherever you sent my brother to fight >> There it was, the reason behind this visit.

He obviously wanted to know why she was here, far from where she was supposed to be, to where everyone else in the continent thought she actually was, and to ensure his brother’s wellbeing. With that sentiment she could resonate, yet, the less people knew her reasons the better. And prior to this encounter, Visenya never met Lord Gerold, she could know whether he was someone she could trust.

&lt;;< Ser Edric remains safe behind high stone walls >> Visenya said, not a lie but not the entire truth either, << Is it your missing husband or your kinslayer uncle you seek in the Reach, then? >> a smart man, she could give him that, she smiled, << both, in fact >> she sipped at the sweet orange juice, gods she loved it. << It would be quite difficult to locate Aegon, now that he is dragonless. Yet Vhagar is not a difficult beast to spot >> Visenya learned a long time ago that the best lies are the ones that contain a little truth. And there was no harm in letting Lord Dayne know that she wished to reconcile with her estranged husband. Which was neither truly estranged or lost. Or at least that was what she hoped. << Yet, I assume that finding one will eventually lead me to the other >> Another half truth.

There had been no rumors on Aegon’s whereabouts, as she expected. He now had no dragon to defend whatever keep or army he had secured, no true advantage on the field. So his best shot was surprise. &lt;;< My people have been at peace for almost half a century now >> He began, ever since the last dornish was, which her great-grandfathers won without losing one single man, she proudly recalled. It was a story she heard countless times, both from her father and from the late king, << we have no wish for war >> she truly understood that. Yet they had been left with no choice.

&lt;;< Were it my choice, Lord Gerold, I would be spending my days between Dragonstone and the Capital, with a husband by my side >> Visenya let out with a hint of annoyance in her voice, while trying the green peppers, << yet my uncle chose to spit on my mother’s mercy, murdered my brother in cold blood, his own kin >> her voice was now raising as her anger, and the pepper’s spiciness, were inflaming her blood and mouth, << raised an army and rebelled against his rightful Queen >> Visenya took a big breath, calming her nerves, sipped at the dornish gold, and locked her stare in the man’s << pray tell me: what should I do? >>

&lt;;< Be a dragon >> Gerold responded, spelling out every word. Visenya smirked, << the andals in the realm >> he began, he was of andal ancestry himself, most definitely. Yet the dornish had always been adamant in calling themselves Rhonysh, when they look like it, or dornish, when they couldn’t claim a pure rhoynar background, << will raise behind Aegon when he shows up again. They will praise him like a hero from a novel, “the man who fought the dragons with his bare hands” >> Gerold was emphasizing his words with the wide movements of his hands, and Visenya was listening carefully, the truth in his words was painful and obvious. How many allies will they lose when Aegon makes his final entrance in this wicked game? 

&lt;;< And if he is squished before he has time to raise, others will follow >> he took one of the stuffed peppers himself, clearly he was much more used to dornish’s spicy food than she was. Yet the princess persevered, stubborn, and swallowed another fiery bite, << because no Queen has ever sat a throne north of Dorne >> this last statement stung, like a sharp knife dug in her guts. Will she truly have to spend the entirety of her life fighting? Wearing chainmail under her clothes like her namesake did, during the reign of the conqueror?

&lt;;< Dorne knows better, of course >> Gerold poured himself a goblet of wine, as Visenya began to wonder what, exactly he was to gain from this conversation, << yet if I recall correctly, the last Targaryen who came here was your namesake. And Starfall still bears the marks of her visit >> indeed the palestone sword tower, where she was currently residing, bears a very distinct mark, like a scar in the flesh of a beautiful maid, where Vhagar unleashed her fires. Her husband’s mount had been much younger then, and smaller in size, yet her fierceness had been unmatched even then, << I assure you >> said Gerold, staring right into her eyes, << no one dared cross her since >> burn everything to ground, that was what the Lord of Starfall was implying. A very different mindset then his brother, who even after Luke’s death, and Sunfire’s slaughter begged to show mercy. She liked this brother better.

&lt;;< Whoever dares oppose the dragon >> She said, keeping her tone flat and her emotions in check, << will burn, just like Storm’s End >> the sweet and fresh orange juice was a blessing for her flaming throat. Too many peppers in one go, or maybe her anger was finally turning her into a dragon, ready to breathe fire.

Gerold nodded, pondering his next words carefully. He seemed to understand and read her emotions well, so he now chose wisely words that would infuriate her, &lt;;< good, the realm needs to fear you, or the men will never bow >> Visenya’s lips became a thigh line. She hoped that she would need not to burn everything to the ground to prove her point.

&lt;;< Oldtown is a wise move >> He said as she straightened, did Edric reveal her plan? Was he so foolish to send a raven with those details, while being so close to the target? << but I do not think you will find Aegon there. It is too obvious >> He seemed to, again, understand her anger, &lt;< worry not >> he said, << my brother did not reveal anything in his brief message. But there is no other explanation for your visit. Considering that Vhagar has been spotted in Oldtown >>

—

Aemond looked around, as if someone might have witnessed his uncharacteristic outburst. When his mind was back at the present, he slid his chair back where it was, making sure it followed the same exact path it did when he unceremoniously pushed it. When he was back in position he took a lock at the table in front of him, Aemond slowly piled each empty plate in a precise order, took his half eaten slice of bread and quickly finished it. He then proceeded to place the cutlery on that, now empty, plate, set it on top of the others, and cleaned the table from any crumbs.

In the end he left the table cleaner, and more in order, then he had found him before breakfast.

Those simple actions had always helped soothe his mind. His need for cleanliness and order had always taken over his mind whenever he found himself in the middle of chaos, and in the last years, Aemond had thought himself to channel that feeling when he needed to calm or distract himself. In moments just like the one he passed.

Honor prevented him from picking a side. That was clear to him.

He couldn’t fight either side and leave with his honor intact. Yet deep down, he knew that if he asked his mother, her wise counsel would be to avoid bloodshed, peace, to protect Helaena and Aegon and Daeron. To be the patriarch of their branch of the house since those who should cover that role selfishly chose to shy away from it.

Aemond could clearly hear her desperate voice the night Viserys died: the king never wished for the death of his daughter she shouted at the council, Rhaenyra must understand , she had told him, her hands shaking, her eyes filled with tears, exile, that would do . He had a hundred questions then, of them he only ever voiced one: Do you truly think Aegon is fit for the throne? And despite what they both knew about him, what her mother had alway felt the need to tell him, to vent about, he couldn’t prevent the anger that filled him when she simply nodded, immediately turning silent, eyes fixed on an imprecise spot behind him. She too, at last, had favored Aegon over him. Over the son that had dutifully only ever upheld those values Alicent had always imposed on him: honor, family, the law.

One question creeped its way through the high walls of mind: is Aegon’s claim truly lawful, when all of the lords of the realm had swore an oath to Rhaenyra?

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[phthalomushroom]

The Family (5)

last next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, stalking, mention of injury

word count: 1.8K

note: I am so sorry for the late post, the words were just not wording and I needed more time to figure out what I wanted to be said. But I finished this chapter and I hope you all enjoy!

Baela and you had split up only a couple of hours ago. She had gotten a call and had needed to leave right away. You had asked what was going on but she assured you everything was fine before leaving.

You still had some errands to do, which lead you across the city to the East side. By the time you finished it had gotten pretty late. Most of the stores were closed and the taxi services were no longer in commission. You looked at your phone to see when the next train was, seeing that you needed to make it fifteen blocks in order to catch the last train for the red line. You began walking, taking in the cool evening air when you had an odd, gut feeling that something wasn’t right.

The streets were a little too quiet, which was never the case during this time. Usually there would be groups of people out walking, people on their balconies laughing but tonight there was just…quiet. You took a look over your shoulder to try and ease your thoughts only to see the man Daemon had mentioned earlier following you.

You looked forward, picking up the pace as you turned the corner. You thought that maybe it was a coincidence but that would be impossible. There were no coincidences in this city, you of all people should know that. 

You were made keenly aware that you were nowhere near your apartment nor the train station and there was no way you were going to end up in a subway possibly cornered. You were up on the East side, a side that you didn’t venture much on your own, meaning you were very unfamiliar with it. This was supposed to be a safe part of the city since the rich and high class lived here, there  was no way something would happen to you.

Clearly not, as the footsteps behind you got louder, making you instinctually speed up. 

This shouldn’t be happening, Daemon should have intervened by now. Unless that whole conversation was just to get under your skin, to throw you off. 

What a prick. 

However as much as Daemon was a prick you weren’t willing to find out if he was a liar.

You had grabbed your mace out of your bag, your body going into autopilot as your senses tried to assess how close this man was getting to you. You took a turn ending up on a familiar cobblestone street and realized exactly where you could go. You turned down another corner, heading for the brownstone at the end of the street. 

You took the stairs two at a time, repeatedly knocking on the door quickly as you watched from the corner of your eye as the man continued to approach. 

The heavy wooden door opened to reveal a shirtless and very confused Aemond Targaryen. 

“What-”

You wrapped your arms around him, pushing your way inside as you pushed him up against the wall and out of view of the street, kicking the door shut. You peaked through the side window, moving the curtain to see the man that was following you get picked up by a black Audi before speeding away. 

“Happy to see you too.”

You looked up to see Aemond smirking at you. You quickly pulled away, taking a couple steps back as you shoved your mace back in your bag. “Your guard dog take the night off?”

Aemond’s eyebrows furrowed, noting what was just in your hand. “Huh?”

“Someone was following me. I thought Daemon was on protection detail.”

His face twisted before he grabbed your hand, taking you up the stairs of the foyer and into the kitchen. He grabbed his phone off the kitchen island.

He started scrolling through contacts. “Help yourself to anything you want, I have to make a call.”

“I think I’ll just go-”

“Sit.”

You instinctively took a seat at the island, watching him walk around the corner to where his office was. You rolled your eyes at yourself, right back here and right back into your old ways. 

You set your shopping bags on the ground and put your coat over your chair heading over to the oven where something was simmering. It looked like Aemond had just finished making some mac n’ cheese.

He did say help yourself.

You grabbed a bowl from the shelf and supplied some golden crescents to your bowl. You had just sat down and taken a forkful to your mouth when Aemond came back in, with a shirt on, as he tied up his hair into a low bun.

He looked kinda pretty as a few of the shorter strands framed his face. 

He smirked, noting you had been staring. “Eating my food already.”

You blinked, looking away. “You said help yourself.”

“Indeed I did.” He grabbed a bowl, joining you across the island.

It was silent for a while, both of you eating your portions. It felt… normal. Like old times, a chill went down your spine at that. You needed to change that.

“Everything okay?”

Aemond’s face darkened. “It will be.”

“Is Daemon-”

“He’s being taken care of by the family doctor.”

You nodded. “The same one who stitched me up?”

His eyes met yours before quickly looking at the counter, he cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

You put your fork down, sitting back in your chair crossing your arms. “I’m going to need an explanation.”

He mirrored your stance, leaning back against the counter. “I don’t think that's a good idea.”

You started getting up. “Then I’m leaving.”

“No.” He reached over the counter to grab your hand. 

You looked up at him. “You were a real asshole the last time we spoke, you know that right?”

He let out a sigh, letting your hand go. “I know. I… I didn’t expect to see you and I was drunk.”

“You never acted like that while you were drunk before.”

“That’s because I dated you.”

You felt your face heat up at that. “Maybe you shouldn’t make it a habit. You're a bit of a mean drunk.”

He let out a small chuckle. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were rude.”

“I was flirting.”

“You’re engaged.”

He frowned. “I know.”

“We’re going to have to talk about it. At least to make peace.”

His eyes softened. “I-I can’t.”

You moved to grab your stuff as you made your way to the door. More secrets, more difficulties. You needed the whole truth or nothing and you were beginning to grow tired of being the only one who wanted to have a peaceful life. 

“It’s the Lannisters.”

Your feet stopped moving, you almost dropped your things. You slowly turned towards him. “You said they were gone.”

“They were but- but things got complicated. I am going to take care of it.”

“What happened, Aemond?”

“You came back, you weren’t supposed to come back and then everything got more complicated and then Alys-”

“Slow down.” You couldn’t make sense of anything he was trying to say.

He was breathing quickly and his words were beginning to jumble to the point where understanding him was impossible. Tears looked like they were ready to spill from his eyes. You dropped your stuff, walking over to him and taking his face in your hands. 

You forced him to look at you. “Breathe, Aemond.”

You moved your hands down so they were rubbing up and down his arms. “You need to breathe.”

He leaned forward, putting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

Then another. 

You closed your eyes, leaning into him and the familiar sage scent that he got from using his body wash. Despite the years, despite the pain, despite everything you still missed him. He was your everything when you were a teen, he was the only family you had at one point and now, being this close to him, you wondered how you had gone so long without him.

But he was engaged, and as much as you wanted to be selfish you just couldn’t do it. 

You pulled away, taking a step back from him. “The Lannisters are back?”

He seemed disappointed. 

He nodded, rubbing his face. “They’ve been back for a couple months now.”

“You should have told me.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t want you involved in this again.”

“Aemond I am involved in this, I mean I was being followed home. Daemon got hurt. It’s like five years ago all over again.”

“No it's not.” He came towards you taking your hands and rubbing his thumb in a circle on the back of your hand. “I’m not going to let that night happen again. I’m not gonna lose you, do you understand me?”

He was looking intensely into your eyes, then his gaze moved to your lips. You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close.

“Aemond.” You breathed. Your head began to spin as if you were drunk, your thoughts going quiet as your body started to move closer to his as if you were magnets destined to meet again. 

“I’ve missed you so much.” He leaned down, his breath fanning your face.

“Aemond.” The noise you made was a mixture of a whimper and a plea as Aemond leaned closer meeting your lips with his.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as his tongue invaded your mouth. You snaked your hands up into his hair, pulling the strands from the bun he wore. He moaned, pulling you impossibly closer as he nipped your lower lip. You felt like you were on fire, as your teeth clashed, the kiss becoming more hungry. 

More desperate. 

Suddenly his phone rang, causing the two of you to jump apart, finally being brought back to reality. He took his phone out of his back pocket, glancing at the caller ID.

“I have to take this.” 

You nodded.

“You aren’t leaving tonight,” he said. “You can stay in my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t you still have a guest room?”

His face turned red. “Not anymore.”

He turned, heading towards his office as he answered his phone, closing the door behind him.

You made your way upstairs, heading past where you remembered the guest room to be. Against your better judgment you peered inside to see the room that used to house a queen sized bed now be filled with boxes of all kinds of things. 

You crept inside, looking into one of the closer boxes. You knew you shouldn't be snooping but after everything that happened tonight you thought fuck it. 

You reached into one of the opened boxes pulling out a small onesie. One that was meant for a baby.

Your heart felt like it shattered.

Yeah, maybe you should have minded your business.

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[ourfxry]

ok update tag drop because I dislike my fancy tags

#x. musing ; i have a storm inside me that will strip you bare #x. visage ; the fairest maid in the realm #x. threads ; the stags daughter #x. answered ; i swear i thought i dreamed her #x. prompts ; always open #x. house baratheon ; ours is the fury #x. alyssa velaryon ; my little versailles #x. rogar baratheon ; don’t you give me up #x. aemon targaryen ; no grave can hold my body down i’ll crawl home to her #x. rhaenys targaryen ; mama’s got a lot to learn #x. wanted ; lost in a story #x. starters ; closed #x. starters ; open