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ewanmitchellconnoisseur · 2 months

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"𝑨𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒚" - 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2 Aemond x Reader

A/N: I had not originally planned on this being a series but the Aemond girlies loved the first one so here is a second as a lil gift. //Divider by @firefly-graphics & @cafekitsune

Summary: You wake up to unfortunate circumstances. It only gets worse when you finally get some answers. A dream confirms that whatever chance you had at having a normal life was gone.

TW: Blood, Death.

← Previous Part • Final Chapter →

Word Count: 3.6k (Not proofread, we die like men 🫡Im also just too tired I'll do it eventually🤣)

You yawned as you sat up in your bed rubbing your eyes. You look over to the spot Aemond was in and simply see a flower. Blushing you reach over and smell the flower.

You look over to the bath on the other side of the room and notice there's no steam coming out of it. You stand up and grab your robe off of the armchair next to your bed.

You walk over to the door after you wrap yourself in the armchair and attempt to open the door. You're shocked when the door doesn't open or move an inch.

"Hello?" You try opening the door again but they don't budge. "Is anyone out there?" You wait but hear no response.

You're unsure of what to do now. You look around your room for something to do. All that you manage to find are some of your old toys and unfinished projects.

You sit in front of the fireplace trying to think of what could possibly be going on. You remember a piece of the wall that could move and search for it, trying your best to remember exactly where it was. You end up finding it next to your dresser.

The piece moves easily and you reach inside. Your hand touches something and you instantly remember. You lay down flat on your stomach reach in with both hands and pull out the wooden box.

You're filled with nostalgia as you sit down on your bed with the box. You blow off the smoke and open it up.

Inside lies a small journal which you place to the side already deciding you have to see what young you used to write about. Inside also lies a small cushion you had sewn for you and Halaena's dolls. One of your teeth which Aegon convinced you to let him take out by tying it with string to a door.

You're confused for a moment at the last item. It's a black handkerchief with gold detailing. You pick it up and stare at it a moment before you remember.

Aemond had found you crying in a corner of the library covered in dirt, mud and God knows what else. He had asked you what happened and although you didn't want to tell him he convinced you too. You admitted that your brothers had joined Aegon in tormenting you by throwing mud at you insisting it was just a joke.

Aemond felt bad especially since he understood what it meant to be at the end of their cruel jokes. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the mud off of your face before walking you to his mother's chambers.

Alicent cleaned you off and got you a clean dress before seeking out the boys and your mother. All three of them were forced to shovel horse shit while you, Helaena and Aemond watched and ate cake.

The memory brought a smile to your face. Aemond had asked you for the handkerchief back but you told him you couldn't find it.

You pick the journal back up excitedly and open it up to a random page.

King's Landing 117 AC

Dear Diary,

Today my brother was born. Father named him Joffrey, I personally think his name is stupid but I held my tongue. Septa Anne would be proud. I went with the boys to the dragon pit today. It was awfully boring. Aemond and I watched while they got to practice commands. AND YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT THEY DID! They gave us pigs! PIGS! Called them the "Pink Dreads".

Sometimes I wish I could just gouge out Aegon's eyes and put them in his soup when he isn't looking...maybe I can get Helaena to catch a beetle for me...

Anyways. I went to the kitchen to get cake but then Harwin stole it! He said it was taxes? WHAT EVEN IS TAXES?

You can't help but laugh as you continue to read. You fall asleep while reading about the time Aegon fell out of a tree while trying to grab a bird.

You wake up and blink a couple times, clearing your vision. You sit up and jump back when you see Aemond next to you lying in your bed.

"Gods! When did you get here?" He has a smirk on his face as he continues to read while eating an apple.

"A while ago. You were sleeping peacefully I didn't wish to wake you." You nod and look at what he's holding. You quickly notice it's your diary and try to snatch it out of his hand but he's quicker. He clicks his tongue at you as you try to reach for it. "Im quite enjoying this. Listen to this one. Aemond gave me a flower today!"

"Aemond! Stop! Give it back" Your face flushes in embarrassment. "I was a kid!" He drops the apple and manages to grabs your hands with one of his and holds them down.

"He is so cute!" He looks back at you with a shocked expression. "You thought I was cute, princess?" Aemond pulls you to sit in his lap and you hide your face in his neck out of embarrassment. "Aemond smiled at me today!"

"Stop!!! Please I beg of you!" He laughs and puts the journal down.

"And this!" He lifts you out of his neck and waves the handkerchief in your face. "You swore to me that you lost it! Liar!"

Aemond begins tickling you and rolls you over caging you under him. He leans down and leaves a trail of kisses from your neck down to your collarbone.

"Aemond?" He hums back in response. "Why was I locked in my chambers?" He stops kissing you for a moment before he leaves a final one on your cheek and sits up.

"You need to break fast first...then we can talk."

Aemond calls for food and for your handmaids to prepare you a bath. You're shocked at first cause of how open he was about being in your chambers while you were fully undressed. You wanted to ask if the talk had gone well about the betrothal and if that's why he was ok with people seeing him here but you opted to wait.

He watches you eat occasionally grabbing slices of fruit off of your plate.

"If you want one you could just take from the tray you know?" He smirks as he puts another grape in his mouth.

"But they taste much better off of your plate." He leans over and bites the strawberry that you're holding.

"So." He leans back in his chair. "Are you going to tell me why I was locked in here?"

The atmosphere immediately changes and is tense. He sighs deeply.

"...King Viserys died..."

Your eyes widen and you drop the food in your hand back onto the plate. Your heart clenches at the news. You had spent much of childhood following him around, you had even willingly chosen to be his cupbearer in some of his council meetings simply because you wanted to be near him.

"...that doesn't explain why I was locked in my chambers Aemond. Matter of fact that is far from an explanation. If my grandsire died I should have been notified."

Aemond fidgets with his hands the same way Alicent does as he looks at the wall.

"Kepus. What are you not telling me?" He continues staring at the wall occasionally looking at you. "Aemond." [Uncle]

"Aegon was crowned king." He says it quickly with his head held high. "As the king's firstborn son, he is the rightful heir. He was crowned before the masses in the dragon pit."

Aemond watches as your breathing quickens and your facial expressions. Your lips are pressed together as you're clenching your hands so tight.

"Who made that decision?"

"It was the King's wish. He said it upon his deathbed to my mother." You roll your eyes and stare at the wall. There was a battle going on within your head. Part of you was understanding of the firstborn son point but the other part was devastated for your mother.

"Does my mother know? What of my grandmother? I was supposed to leave with her this mourning."

"...your grandmother interrupted the crowning. She was riding Meleys, many people died and just as many were injured." You cover your mouth with a shaking hand. "I believe she is already on her way to Dragonstone probably to speak to your mother..."

Meanwhile in Dragonstone

Rhaenys wasted no time heading straight for the princess. She had no time for formalities.

She walks into the room seeing them both by the fireplace.

"Thank you, Ser Lorent." Rhaenys stops at the head of the table. "Princess Rhaenys, might we hope for news of Lord Corlys' recovery?"

"Viserys is dead." Rhaenyra's face drops as Daemon turns around. "I grieve this loss with you Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father...possessed a kind heart." Rhaenyra struggled to comprehend what was happening. She knew her father would die soon but hoped she would be back to King's Landing in time to be there.

"There is more. Aegon has been crowned as his successor" Rhaenyra clutches her stomach as Daemon walks over.

"They crowned him?" Rhaenyra was looking off into space, grieving.

"How did Viserys die?" Daemon had a look on his face that no one could quite place. Was he sad? Angry? Or just plain confused.

"I could not say." They both look at each other.

"How long ago?" Rhaenyra asks.

"A day past, perhaps two. I was made prisoner in my quarters while the Queen made her preparations."

"Viserys has been slain." Daemon watches Rhaenyra.

"Alicent demanded you declare for Aegon." It was not a question, Rhaenyra already knew that it had happened.

"She did. I refused her." Rhaenyra let out a shaky breath.

"And yet you are alive." Of course, Daemon was skeptical, when was he ever not?

"The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit. I witnessed it myself just before I fled on Meleys." Rhaenyra was still clutching her stomach.

"They crowned him before the masses." Rhaenys nodded.

"So that the masses would see him as their rightful King," Rhaenys responded.

"That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne. And you could have burned them all for it." Daemon's unknown emotion was now evident, he was angry, livid even.

"A war is like to be fought over this treachery, to be sure. But that war is not mine to begin. I only rushed this warning to you out of loyalty to my husband and to my house." She took a deep breath. "The greens are coming for you Rhaenyra. And for your children."

"M-my children?" Rhaenyra's face contorted in pain. "My daughter! You brought her with you?" Daemon stood straight up.

"Sadly...no...Alicent had her chambers guarded well and her room had no passages. I'm sorry. I did not wish to leave my granddaughter either."

"You left my daughter with those cunts?" Daemon walked around the table to face Rhaenys. "You left her to become a bargain in this war?"

"I did my best Prince Daemon. We have allies within those walls that can get a message to her. Once I hear word she is alright I will be sending someone in to retrieve her."

"You have done enough." Daemon pointed at her. "I will retrieve my child from the snakes you fed her too."

"Enough Daemon..." Daemon turned to face Rhaenyra who was now hunched over gripping the table. "The babe... it's coming..."

King's Landing

Aemond watched as you paced around the room. You had requested he leave you alone for the a day only allowing in your handmaidens and refusing to see anyone else.

Since you had called for him this morning you hadn't said anything in almost an hour and instead paced around the room looking for the words to start this conversation. Occasionally you would stop, point at him and open your mouth but then you'd scowl and resume pacing again. He could tell you were conflicted.

"Ñuha jorrāelagon, kessa ao sit ilagon? Before you burn a hole into the floor." [My Love, will you sit down?]

"Now is not a time for jokes, Aemond! Do you know what your family has done? This is an act of war! They have usurped the throne right out from under my mother's feet. If you think she will let this go easily- no, if you think Daemon will let this go easily you are all sorely mistaken." you begin pacing again.

Aemond stood up and walked over to you and grabbed your hands.

"Gīda." [Calm] He pushed a strand of hair out of your face. "Everything is going to be ok."

"What will happen to me?" The thought had crossed your mind many times as you wondered what would be made of you.

"My grandsire and the King have agreed to our betrothal. They will announce it as part of the terms if she agrees to declare Aegon as the rightful King and kneel before him and the council."

"Terms?" You back away from him letting go of his hands. "Our marriage would no longer hold meaning Aemond. It would be seen merely as something my mother won in bowing to Aegon, a spoil of war. Either way, she would never say yes."

"Then Aegon will marry us anyway." He shrugs and pulls you back into him as if none of this bothered him. "He is my brother and he knows of the love I hold for you."

"And if I say no?" His face became stern.

"You wouldn't hurt me so."

"You mean the way that you have today?" He sighs deeply. "Why did you not come and free me from my chambers?"

"Because I knew you would leave at the first chance." You look away from him and he turns your face back towards him. "You're mine and I wasn't willing to risk losing what is mine."

You would typically enjoy this possessive air around him but you currently found it suffocating. You wanted nothing more than to put space between you but he was holding you tight against him.

"Aemond. This is not right. You must understand that?" He rolled his eyes and let you go.

"Who sits on the throne is none of my concern and not on my list priority."

"Then what is?" You step towards him angrily.

"You!" he snaps. "You are my only priority. If you say no to marrying me then you will be made prisoner here. You will spend the entirety of this war locked in here." You could tell he was being truthful. "Marry me and you will at least have some freedom."

"Some?" He walked back over to the table and sat down tired of this conversation. "What is some?"

"You will be allowed to walk freely around the castle with a guard of my choosing."

"And Vermithor?" You think of your dragon and where he could be. You had claimed him when you returned to Dragonstone after what happened at Driftmark. Aemond's bravery in claiming Vhagar led you to sneak into where he sleeps and approach the dragon yourself. You had also thought that if you claimed him you could ride to King's Landing and see him. You had learned the song Daemon would sing and tried singing it to him to calm him down. It worked despite almost being burnt to a crisp you had claimed him.

"I will visit him on Vhagar." He reached for your hand but you shied away. "You must understand that my grandsire worries about allowing you to have full freedom. After a while, you will be allowed to go riding."

"How long is a while Aemond?" He visibly gulped and bit the inside of his cheek. "How long?" Your voice was cold and made the hairs on his neck stand.

"Until you give birth to our firstborn." He said it quietly already knowing how you would react. It was smart you'd give them that. They know you wouldn't fly away while your child is in their possession. "My grandfather's decision not my own."

"And did you try to fight him on it?"

"Why would I?" He shrugged but soon noticed the angry expression on your face. "I want marriage with you, I want children." He tried to reach for you again.

"So do I Aemond! But not like this." You take his hand and he pulls you to sit on his lap. "I want us to marry because it is what we want. I want my mother to be there! This isn't the way I want to do this."

Aemond leans his head against your chest.

"My hands are tied, my love." You get off of his lap and walk over to the fireplace facing your back to him.

"I wish to be alone."

"Baby..." You hear him get up and walk over to you.

"Please go...now!" A few seconds later you hear him sigh and leave the room. You sit on the armchair and allow yourself to cry.

This was all too much for you. You worried for your mother and the rest of your family. Did they think you were a traitor now? Will they think you have chosen Aemond's family over them if you were to marry him?

You know there's no way your mother will kneel before Aegon, even if she decides to, Daemon would rather lock her in her chambers than agree to that.

How could they be so foolish? So reckless?

You walk over to your bed and lie down. You go over the pros and cons of agreeing to marry Aemond. You then think about ways you could escape. Maybe agreeing to a betrothal will at least get you the right to walk around, you could find your parent's allies within the walls and find a way back to them.

You can stall the wedding for a while. Aemond would understand you'd prefer to be married only after the war was over and your family could attend.

You soon tire yourself out with all this thinking and fall asleep.

You spend the next day alone in your chambers. Alicent had invited you to join her in breaking your fast but you respectfully declined. You needed more time.

You saw a boat sail out from King's Landing and knew it was most likely Otto heading out to deliver the terms to your mother. You knew it would not go well and they would be lucky if she didn't feed them to Syrax for their treachery.

It was only the following midday when you grew worried. You saw Vhagar fly away from the castle. Part of you wish you knew where he was going and the other part of you remained angry. You thought he knew you better, if he did he would have fought harder for your freedom right? He would have denied Otto's offer and not allowed him to make your marriage into something that they hoped would sway your mother into giving up her crown.

Gods you missed her, you prayed every moment for her safety. For all of their safety.

It rained that night. Something was off. You could feel it in your bones. You tried to sleep hoping it would calm your nerves. Your handmaid brought you tea to help you relax. You soon fell asleep but sadly even your dreams were disturbed.

You wake up on the floor of pitch black. Everything around you was dark. There was no light just darkness. You sat up and looked around.

"Hello?" Your voice echoed. You stood up and began walking around in the dark abyss not knowing where you were going.

"Gēlȳn enkagon jamela!" You hear Aemond's voice. [You owe a debt!]

You quickly turned around but nothing was there.

"Aemond?" You walked in the direction that you heard his voice. As you got closer you noticed your feet getting wet.

"Taoba!" You hear him again but in a different direction. [Boy!]

You turned again where you heard his voice and walked quicker in that direction. You felt something patter on your head and looked up. Nothing was there just darkness but you could for sure feel something wet as if it was rain.

There was a flash of a bright light to which you shielded your face.

"Daor Arrax!" Arrax? That's Luke's dragon.

"Luke? Luke, are you there?" You noticed your clothes clinging to your body as they were now soaked the scent of salty water filling your nose.

"Vhagar! No! No..." What had happened? Why was he saying no?

You look around you quickly trying to make sense of what it is you are hearing. The rain is heavier and you look at your hands. They aren't just wet...they're red. Your dress is now too stained red. You touch your cheek and look back at your hands and see the same red substance.

Something drops from above causing you to step back quickly. More pieces fall from the sky surrounding you. You shield your head and scream as the red rain grows heavier and more pieces fall.

When the rain softens and the sound of stuff falling ceases you open your eyes and look around you. Your face twists in pain as you see pieces of the body of Arrax surrounding you. It only gets worse when you see a human body part. You look closer and notice the hand.

"He got me." You hear his Lucerys voice and you instantly know it was his hand.

You wake up in a sweat your hair sticking to your neck and your pillow drenched. You look up and see Aemond standing at the end of your bed his clothes drenched.

And in that moment you knew.

The war had started.

A/N: So this is clearly turning into a series. Which I'm actually not mad about. Not sure where this is going but naturally the chances of any of this being 100% original is not possible. There are far too many HOTD fanfics for any ending or storyline to be original. I can only hope that it is 100% enjoyable.

I will still obviously do my best to come up with a unique ending but I feel like to have a unique ending people need to die. I need to start killing off characters like Grey's Anatomy 🤣

Anywho I hope y'all enjoyed this part! If you wish to be added to this Taglist or any other one please let me know!

Gen Taglist: @thought--bubble, @valeskafics

#ewan mitchell verse #ewan nation #ewanverse #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you

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humanpurposes · 2 months

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(Teaser) It Will Come Back

Chapter 3, Broken Bonds

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/n: I feel bad that it's been forever since this series had an update, and I'm just feeling silly today so I thought I'd share a lil something of what I've been working on (to hopefully motivate me to finish the chapter lmao).

Now…

The heat is relentless this summer. Light bleeds through the ancient stained glass windows of the Red Keep in beams of red, green, blue and gold, only to be lost to the dark wood floors, furniture and panelled walls. It is Aemond’s least favourite time of year, when the weather makes him irritable and the harsh light gives him a headache, when business tends to be busy and everyone is preoccupied with holidays and garden parties. He’s less inclined to distract himself with frivolity.

His sleeves are rolled up, his long silver hair pulled into a ponytail, sweat starting to pool underneath the eyepatch over the left side of his face. He’s leaning over Aegon, one hand on the back of his chair, staring down at his laptop and they check over some details for next week’s event.

It’s not often Aemond finds himself in his brother’s office. Technically Aegon is his superior, ‘deputy operations manager’ according to the golden plaque on the door. This is more of a courtesy title because he couldn’t get a respectable job anywhere else, and it would be far worse for their father’s image to have a layabout son.

That’s the funny thing about the family business. It’s no secret that Viserys Targaryen didn’t want his sons involved in Dragon Bank, but his influence is not as all encompassing as he would like to believe, not since the Hightowers got a foot in the door thirty or so years ago… then another… then another. Viserys can make his demands and shout when he’s angry enough, but there is one truth he cannot deny; he needs them. He needs Otto. He needs Alicent. He needs Helaena and Daeron to stay perfect. He needs Aegon to not be a fuck up and that’s enough. And he needs Aemond because he’s good at his job. No one has an eye for detail like him, no one can make sense out of figures or persuade clients and investors like he can.

Why their grandfather wants him to look over PR and marketing nonsense is understandable, but irritating nonetheless.

Their father has been planninging this event for years, Dragon Bank’s fifth centenary gala, with all the pomp and grandeur of a bygone era, held at their ancestral seat of Dragonstone Castle, just outside the city. Five hundred years since one of their ancestors forged a throne for himself in King’s Landing, building an empire that still has most of the country under their family’s thumb. Viserys intends to use the occasion as a reminder to every individual and family in Westeros who thinks they are even slightly important that they cannot compare to the might of the Targaryens.

There can be no oversights. Everything has to be perfect.

His eye scans over the diagram on the screen, circles surrounded boxes with names; the seating plan in the main ballroom. Then a name catches his eye and it makes his heart stop. He doesn’t want to believe what he sees but there it is on the screen, in Times New fucking Roman: Jaya Velaryon.

He’s hardly heard that name, read it, or heard it in six years. He can already feel a dull ache creeping into his skull, which he knows will catch like kindling and soon become a burning, blinding pain behind his eyes and in the crevices of his scar.

Aegon, completely oblivious, huffs a little laugh to himself. “Shit, yeah, I meant to say there was an update with the seating. So this could turn out to be quite interesting– fuck, are you alright?”

“Fine!” Aemond snaps, staggering back from the chair. His head feels like it’s been run through with a knife and his fingers fumble to get his eyepatch off. “Fine– fuck! I’m fine.”

“Sit,” Aegon orders, quickly standing and guiding Aemond over to one of the leather sofas on the other side of the room, where the sunlight isn’t so direct.

The pain is often like this, striking suddenly, spreading quickly like a forest fire, eating away at him like a disease, and he has no choice but to endure it.

He feels the eyepatch slip from his face before something cold presses against the worst of his scar. He reaches up to clasp his hands around it: a glass water bottle, one Aegon is holding. His brother is useless most of the time but he does have his moments.

“Fuck it’s all red,” Aegon mutters. “Have you got meds with you?”

When Aemond opens his mouth to speak his jaw is trembling. “Office,” he says, gritting his teeth together, trying to control his breath and the extent of the pain. “It’s in the office.” He can see where the packet is in the first draw under his desk.

“I can go and grab some–”

“No,” Aemond says, grabbing Aegon’s arm so he won’t move.

He can handle this. Every time this kind of pain flares up he thinks of how much it hurt that night, how terrified he was as he felt the blood gushing from the gash in his eye, slipping through his fingers. The pain had been so great he thought it might kill him. If he can get through that night, the first few hours in the hospital, the months of recovery or the years since, then he can get through a fucking headache.

He closes his eye and breathes in counts of three. In through the nose, hold, and out. Between that and the bottle against his face the pain starts to feel a little duller and the room doesn’t feel so close.

“Is it… you know,”

Did seeing Jaya’s name shock him so severely that his body went into meltdown? Is his heart still pounding in his chest at the thought of reading her name and the possibility of seeing her again?

Aemond exhales irritably against the back of his throat, defeated, but always stubborn.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #modern!au #aemond targaryen smut #it will come back #hozier coded

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madame-fear · 1 year

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Hii! Can I request Aemond x wife!reader comforting their child because they're being bullied? I think Aemond would be so sweet to them, since he went through that as well :((

— ☆ amira speaks : hello darling!! so i made this headcanons because 1) i thought it was fit and 2) i'm still a bit shy to write for Aemond in one shots :( but hope you enjoy this either way, my love !! If anyone wants a fic about this feel free to tell me! also sorry if it's short 🥲

: ̗̀➛ Our One Eyed prince would be the right balance between a fiercely protective dad, yet a terribly sweet and understanding one once he finds out his child is being bullied.

: ̗̀➛ The very first thing both of you would do is comfort your child by tightly hugging them, and pressing some delicate kisses on top of the child's head, or cheeks. Your top priority would be soothing them, and reassuring them that he will take care of the matter.

: ̗̀➛ If the child cries because of this... oh, no. Aemond's rage towards whomever had the audacity to bully his babe would grow even more. How dare they?

: ̗̀➛ Of course, he knows how it feels to be bullied and humilliated, and he can't allow his children to go through the same experience. So he would wholeheartedly understand if his child is either upset, or sad.

: ̗̀➛ Expect him to ask his child a shit ton of questions, like: when, when, who? — and once the child answers every single question, he'll begin to take care of it.

: ̗̀➛ I don't think he's much of a physical person, as in, I really don't see him getting into a phsyical fight. Whoever, I do know that he would severely threaten — because scolding them is useless — his lil babe's bullies with the grand Vhagar, and would make sure they get the proper punishment they deserve.

: ̗̀➛ BUT! he's not alone; he went with his bullied child, so he literally forces the bullies to apologise to his son/daughter in front of him... and Vhagar, ofc. Otherwise if they keep disrespecting him/her they are just one Dracarys away from vanishing from Earth.

: ̗̀➛ After all of that, both of you will just keep spoiling his babe with tons of kisses and affection, and he'll also tell his child that while he's around, no one will be able to disrespect him/her, and he promises it in the name of The Seven.

: ̗̀➛ The best and most loving yet protective dad ever, the type of staring at the precious child he had with you with heart eyes, fr 🥺

♡ taglist : ♡

@tickle-euphoria @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dragon430

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye targaryen x reader #prince aemond x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x you #hotd imagine #hotd headcanons #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon headcanons #hotd fic

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bucknastysbabe · 8 months

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70s/80s summer camp for jace it’s just so fitting

SO FITTING THAT LIL SUMMER BOY, I struggled at first and really found my groove so I hope it’s good! Thanks for requesting❤️❤️

AU Bingo - 70’s Summer Camp - Jace Velaryon

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW//underage drinking, consumption of marijuana and alcohol in LARGE quantities, Jace and Reader are 18, Cregan’s little sister!reader, enemies to fwb to lovers, slight angst, Addam and Alyn share one brain cell, poor Luke, Cregan is the ultimate Big Bro, cunnilingus, pnv!sex, Frottage, blowjobs, Jace’s Horse Dong, virgin!Jace, we goin wild at the summer camp

“It’s going to be a hot summer this year folks! But we have hotter music for the Summer of seventy-nine. Here’s The Logical Song from Supertramp.”

The man on the radio was right. It was sweltering in Jace’s little black Pontiac firebird transam. He swerved at breakneck speed around the bends on the mountain roads, second nature at this point. Lucerys was in the passenger, nervously eyeing his brother.

“You’re making me quiver,” he shoved the twerp, “Quit being a pussy.”

Luke mumbled, “M’not a pussy!” He sunk down into the leather seats, brown eyes cast to the surrounding trees and views. They’d go through the mountains before making it to the lake and the camp. Camp Wolfwind was the name, the Stark family generously started it over decades ago.

Cregan Stark, Jace’s best friend by mail most of the time would be there. He was assistant director of camp this year, just a year older than him. Cregan always had the air of being mature, making Jace feel like a kid without even trying. Mr. Umber was the camp director, some wildman looking type with a booming laugh.

Jace’s mother had him and Luke come to this camp since they were little, to quote, “I’m not sending my children to that snobby hobnobbing farce of a camp. You boys are going to learn to be of the people and nature.” Safe to say Camp Wolfwind was a staple of Jacaerys summer. It really was a great place.

Being a senior counselor this year added bonuses. More time off between campers, say-so on party invitations, and all the grass, liquor, whatever you could get your hands on. It was a poorly hidden secret Mr. Umber grew his own bud. But only on the weekends you could partake, per Cregan.

“Whose gonna be the female senior counselor?”

Jace almost wrecked the fancy car. Fuck. Cregan’s little sister got that post. He’d had to work with the thorn in his side since, god, he first camp to Wolfwind. She had a way of getting under his skin with that sharp laugh and glinting eyes. Most of the guys thought she was sexy, looking like Jaclyn Smith of Charlie’s Angels.

Jace saw a demon with horns snorting at him when she opened her mouth. He had no clue how that girl was related to the ever calm, collected Cregan. Jace huffed, annoyed that Luke brought back the information he had banished since receiving the letter from his friend.

Whatever. It was his last summer at Wolfwind before heading off to college. Camp stopped last week of July and most of his stuff was packed up back home anyway.

A sign for the camp flew by, Jace’s knuckles whitening on the wheel. Luke snorted and popped back a cheez-it, “You’ll be fine, she’s really not that bad.” The elder brother made a familiar turn, much slower now, and scoffed, “Okay, sure, that’s why Aemond makes you cry at Christmas.” The two were pulling hair and throwing blind punches, the car skidded to a halt as insults were slung.

Cregan leaned into the open window, grinning in amusement, dodging a stray elbow. He slammed on the hood of the trans am a couple of times before Jace collected himself and shot one last side-eye to his shit of a brother. The eldest Stark huffed in humor, “Good to see you Jace and Luke, let’s get you two parked then you can go into the woods to work it out.”

Jace smiled and shook his best friend’s hand, “That can be arranged.”

Luke was back to pouting, quiet and slamming shit as he grabbed his stuff upon parking. The familiar smells and sights greeted Jace’s nose. He couldn’t help but grin at the lake shining under the view of the mountains, the wooden buildings here and there, up through the trees were obstacle courses and archery ranges. The smell of the mess hall wafted by. The Velaryon felt at home here.

Sliding his Ray-bans back, Jace sauntered to the senior counselor rooms, a duplex where he’d be connected to Satan herself. Luke stomped off to the more open spaced male junior counselor building, throwing one last bird finger. Cregan leaned against the porch frame now, holding out a bag full of camp clothes.

“You need to leave that poor boy alone,” he teasingly chastised. Jace plunked his suitcase on the bed and eyed the mirror in front of him. He shrugged, “Always sound like my mom Stark.” Cregan shrugged, “You know me, someone’s gotta do it.” The smaller brunette plugged away his personal clothes.

“Sis is real excited to see you,” he deadpanned.

Cregan’s dry humor could either make one want to drown or laugh until crying. Currently it’s drowning. Jace slammed a drawer shut and snarked, “I’m sure she is, surprised she-wolf wasn’t waiting with a sign that said ‘welcome pansy!’” Another huffing snicker from the elder.

“Well get your swim trunks on and meet down by the dock, Umber’s got us a nice selection while the counselors get here.”

Jace sighed a bit at that. Some bud and a beer would be nice. He shimmied on his red trunks and sandals, putting his best foot forward. He was the alpha somewhat now, had to exude authority. The Velaryon had no idea how his cousins, one a drunken slob and the other an uppity seminarian could exude so much confidence.

Down on the dock, Big John Umber was lighting a pipe, booming, “Jace! My boy! Get over here and have a puff!” Jacaerys grinned, “Yessir, how’ve you been this year?” He took two greedy puffs of the potent herb and held until exhaling with a couple of coughs. Umber’s big hand clapped his back as he replied, “Business is booming son, spent the whole year in Miami!”

Jacaerys waved and nodded at familiar faces; Maris and Cassandra, Ben and Aly Blackwood, Alyn and Addam, then the she-demon. She waved her painted nails, long dark hair streaming down a regrettably beautiful body. The she-wolf cooed, “Jaceyyyy, you ready for camp? Then college? Gonna have to unlatch off of mommy’s tit by then.” Her hazy eyes were lidded, lips curled in sarcasm.

Jace cracked a beer open and sniffed, “Might have to fight Lucerys and Joff back for that position Stark. Sure you’re ready to go wild without Cregan’s approval.”

Cregan’s dark, sharp eyes turned to the pair. She waved a hand, “Just playing around bro, chill out, smoke some more damn.” She stuck her tongue out at Jace and leaned back, exposing more tit than he really needed to see.

He sat on the dock’s edge, humming along to the radio, feeling the buzz tickle his senses.

Soon enough more arrived and a little gathering had developed into a party, Cregan and Umber high as balls watching from their kingly wooden dock chairs. Even little Luke had finished his pouting fit to have some PBR, making a face. Jace was flirting with Cass, boasting about his college plans.

Before a little hand pushed him into the water with a laugh. Jace dunked under the chilled night water, coming up to wipe his hair back and curse, “Hey! What the fuck?” She smiled down at him and said, “Sorry, Cass looked bored. I wanted your spot.” A raucous of laughter echoed around, drunken teens.

Jace narrowed his eyes and swam around to get tossed a towel from Addam, shaking his head. Jace plunked down near the white-blonde and was passed a shot, taking the whiskey quickly. He swallowed down the burn, feeling easier. The Hull boy snickered, “Cregan’s sister has it sooooo bad for you Jace.”

He raised a brow and guffawed at such a notion. “Yeah and gas is gonna go down too!” They both laughed at that, the male humming, “Glad I get a deal on the diesel family monstrosity.” Alyn piped in, “The monstrosity is named mouse and she does a good job.”

Another shot or two was passed around, Jace beginning to feel pretty smacked. He shook his head and excused himself from the twins, “I think I’ve lived up to the family lightweight standards, and I’m gonna retire boys.”

“Awe c’mon, c’mon, we got ghost stories soon!”

He smiled and promised another night, half stumbling back to his new cabin, all to himself. He could shower! Shower! Fuck yes. Jacaerys Velaryon felt like a king. The dim porch lights blurred in his vision, the door almost there.

“Tapping n’for the night already?,” she asked softly, long hair braided back. It looked pretty. No. Bad Jace. Cregan’s sister was drunk off her ass too, eyes hazy and leaning against the wall with a too wide grin. Jacaerys snipped, “Why y’care? Want to push me n’to the water again?”

She shuffled closer, face so sharp and pretty, dark eyes enticing. “No, I wanted to get you to myself and I was making sure ya’ weren’t leavin’.”

Jace’s face suffused into a blush. He stuttered, “W-wh-Wha?” He was a big virgin. With a capital V. Berlin Wall sized V. The darker haired girl smoothed a hand up into his hair, asking, “Taken? No good hm? Whas’ the play here.”

He steadied himself, blinking some sobriety into his thoughts and said, “I’m going to go to my shower. You can turn the radio on. The rest is up to you but,” he snatched at her waist, “Quit playin’ ‘round with me.” She moaned softly, nodding.

He let her go and moved to his room, stripping inelegantly, heading straight to the shower, leaving the door cracked. It got to a steaming heat, he stepped under, sighing, his cock beginning to hang heavy between his legs.

Right.

Jace had a ridiculously sized cock. So large in fact he thought something was wrong and went to his step-father about it. Who crassly widened his pale eyes and exclaimed, “That’s a damn horse if I’ve seen one. Congrats lad. No wonder your mother loves some Strong’s.”

So usually when he got to the point of attempting to fuck a girl, they would shy away or screech in pain. But he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to fuck right now, this she-wolf was a menace.

The radio clicked on. ‘Spooky’ by Little River Band filtered into the haze, making Jace a bit woozy as more blood flew between his legs. He heard her light footsteps, then a body slid behind his own, soft tits and feminine hands sliding up Jacaerys’ taught torso.

She murmured into his ear, “When did’ja get all handsome hm? Get this,” she wrapped her hand barely around his cock and shook, “This Fuckin’ monster.” He moaned softly, leaning dark hair back onto her shoulder. “Dunno, tried to hide it today.”

He flipped her round under the spray, getting a good look at wet lashes, dilated pupils, and swollen lips. Jace stared, hands groping at her built ass, cock nudging her thigh. She pulled him forward with two hands, sculpted lips drawing Jace open. They slid tongues across another sensually, occasionally getting a little nip from her, a hand pulling at his aching member.

Jace groaned helplessly, whining and chasing her lips with wide eyes as the she-wolf pulled back. She snatched some conditioner and slathered it on his cock, Jace’s legs trembling. The brunette girl braced herself against the wall, ass up, legs tight together.

“C’mon, y’old maid, fuck the gap!”

Understanding knocked him clean in the skull, shaking hands guiding into that shining opening, gasping and stuttering her name as he fucked the man-made gap, her teasing fingers helping along. She cooed and shivered, “Y-yes, that’s it, fuck you’re perfect! N-nudge there, there, THERE!”

Jace must’ve been getting her clit based on pitchy whines and cries, her cute hands scrambling for purchase as her back arched and then gushed on his cock, pussy convulsing. She tightened her strong thighs around him on last time before dropping to her knees.

“Cum on my tits Jacey, just like those pornos you watch.”

It didn’t take long looking at her wrecked face and swollen cunt to have him painting her tits in white, some reaching her chin and lips. He heaved and choked out hoarse moans, body wearing out. He slapped a hand on the shower wall and whimpered her name when the she-wolf licked his cum off her chin— fuck, lips, moaning.

“Does your mother know,” Abba warbled. She grinned evilly, patting his oversensitive cock. Standing back up she sung, “We’re gonna have fun this summer, Jacey.” And off she went, leaving the male a shaking panting wreck. He was gonna get her ass next round.

Jace was met with a rude awakening besides a mega hangover the next morning. Stretching and shuffling to the mess hall, he waited for his duplex neighbor. She gave him a disgusted look and shoved past, giving Jace an eyeful of legs and ass in her bitty jean shorts. Her dark hair whipped around.

Oh. Jace was a bit perplexed. She was just licking his cum off her chin last night. Now the cold shoulder? Was this one of those games girls played? The brunette was a novice on the front and he certainly couldn’t go to Cregan about it.

Shuffling into the mess hall Jace managed to stomach some grits and coffee, head pounding. Addam and Alyn sat down, identical faces cheery. Those two were immune to anything. Alyn hummed, “What’s your bag? Looking like a bummer man.”

Jace took a miserable sip of his coffee. He murmured, “Do not start yelling and jumping when I start talking. Got it? Or coffee in your face.”

Cregan was off in the corner with Aly, the two seemingly close this year.

The twins nodded, eager for the skinny. Jacaerys sighed, “What does it mean when a girl gives you the cold shoulder after gettin’ ah-uh a little hot and heavy.”

“Who?!”

Jace hissed, “I said shut it! Doesn’t matter!”

Addam, the more suave of the two, “She’s playing games then, wants you to beg and grovel for her. Or…if this is who I think it is, she wants it on the DL.”

“Downlow then, but riles me up during the day. Just great,” Jace whinged while sipping his coffee. Alyn whispered something to Addam, the other nodding and they descended into giggles. A plate slammed down, the trio jumping and growing red faced.

“Morning girls, what’s the skinny?,” the she-wolf asked with a conniving look. Addam shrugged off Alyn’s red face and Jace being an idiot, “Which girl has the nicest ass, what did you expect Stark?”

“I’d assume it would be mine,” she hummed, taking an obscene bite from her banana, watching Jace. The brunette took the last bite of his apple and darted off, holding his mug of coffee, “See you guys for cleanup later!”

Jacaerys was going to explode. With anger, lust, he didn’t know what. He stomped to the little overlook on the lake he’d found as a kid, sitting on a rock. The lake was calm and lapping on the smooth rocks, sky sunny, fish flopping here and there. With every sip of his warm drink, his blood began to settle.

The crunching of leaves took that serenity and shat all over it. Stark’s sister sat next to him, a strange look on her face. Both began to speak then stopped. Jace bolted out, “I don’t know what the deal is here but I can’t handle it.”

Pretty lips frowned and she replied, “Fine, I’m sorry. It’s fun to see you get red in the face. But I can’t just change my personality around you,” she looked off into the distant, “Cregan is Cregan no matter how close you two are. I wanna keep fooling around, why not?”

Jace narrowed his eyes and held out a hand, “Fine. Just fucking around on the low. But just know I’ll get you back.” She grinned and shook his hand, stating, “You got it Velaryon.” They sat down in simple peace before the call of the speakers came, the order for clean up.

Over the next week was a flurry of inebriation, hard work, escaping Cregan’s watchful eye, and shoving away the Hull twins. He’d spend his nights learning all the ways to pleasure a woman. Jace’s favorite was face first between her strong thighs, lapping and sucking. She’d get all whiny and soft on him.

Especially when he crooked his middle finger up and she made his chin slick with arousal, Jace going back in for more, rutting into his bed frantically. He made her come so many times one night she cried and held to him until the she-wolf remembered her situation and ran away.

As the days to campers arriving drew nigh, she was a staple in his bed after their romps, the pair just chatting and smoking cigarettes. Dreams, hopes, funny stories, sad stories. He felt like he’d known the Stark sister for years by now.

They never reached full penetration, Jace utterly petrified by hurting her, as much as she begged for it. Getting head was just as nice, especially when she’d get him down her throat, the male holding her distended neck and whining helplessly, balls drawing tight so damn fast.

Then the campers came. The two would bicker and shove each other when directing the others. Not to mention the inclusion of night rounds to make sure no kids were being naughty. Occasionally they’d find some kids macking against a pine but nothing serious. The leaders were the naughty ones.

It went like this all summer. Until the very last week. The send-off dance with all the staff and the tweens moving up to counselor next week. Jace was excited and decided he would ask his girl. Which wasn’t his girl but they did everything like a couple, the whole camp had picked up on it.

Jace reluctantly asked Cregan one evening. He was shaking in his shoes, “Y-you know how your sister and I can get, but, I really like h-her.” The elder Stark deadpanned, “You’ve been at it all summer, you think I can’t tell that? She likes you a lot too, go for it. I wouldn’t want any other man to have her hand for this dumbass dance.” Jace grinned and pulled Cregan into a brotherly hug, thanking him tremendously.

He would wait until later to spring the question on her. Jace may have gone a bit overboard, flowers from the woods and twigs spelling out, “Be mine?” Aly loaned some candles and he was set, waiting. The door opened to his cabin and there she stood, gorgeous as always.

She took in the surroundings and stifled a laugh, eyes wide. “W-what’s all this?,” she questioned, snorting again. Jace’s heart and smile began to fall, she seemed to dislike this. He murmured, “I asked Cregan, he doesn’t care, wanted to take ya to the dumbass dance as a last ride, c’mon?”

“You went and asked Cregan? Really? What is this? My silly engagement proposal? Fuck you Jace! We knew what this was from the beginning!,” her dark hair tossed about as she hissed again, “Don’t fucking talk to me again!”

The door slammed shut. The radio turned to some cheery disco song. Fuck Suzi Quatro. Stumblin’ in to what? A brick wall, in the trans am at 120mph. Jace, stunned, sat down on his bed. He wiped away a stupid tear, steadying himself.

“FUUUUUUUUuuuuUUUUUCK.”

Okay, maybe he felt better now. Jacaerys Velaryon would just have to do like he did last year, pining over a different girl then. Get blackout drunk and puke in the grass. Then get back and go way too hard on the dance floor, maybe Cassandra would let him have a squeeze. Blegh.

Jace moped his week away, some of the kids asking why he wasn’t with his ‘girlfriend’. He’d snap, “Back to the ropes course! She’s not my girlfriend!” A snap of the line and the little shits would go scrambling. Meanwhile the she-wolf ignored him utterly and completely. Not even to jab or play a trick. Nose up and eyes away, not responding to any teasing.

He tried to get her attention once and she simply crossed lean arms and stared until he got the point and shuffled away. Pure torture this was. Alyn and Addam exchanged confused glances, they had no clue on what pissed her off so bad. Addam clapped Jace’s shoulder and laughed, “Girls man! Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

But Jace worried about it, pacing his wooden floor the night of the dance, all dressed up. By that he meant a linen shirt and some nicer shorts. Luke probably had a damn silk disco top on. The brunette dabbed on some cologne, ignoring his wild hair. He hoped she went home or something.

The dance was awkward and filled with the smell of sweaty teenagers and weed. Cassandra offered a flask and said, “Looks like you need it, sorry bout’ ya girl.” Jace took the heady drink to the dome, swallowing down the burn, finishing it. He shook his head and garbled, “Sorry,” then shuffled away.

The buzz kicked in but Jace felt more moody than anything. Luke’s silk shirt did bring a slight smile to his face. Same with Cregan’s brotherly hug and promise, “She’ll come around.” But the music and happiness wasn’t seeping into his bones.

Grabbing a beer the eldest Velaryon went to his spot by the lake. It was much quieter out here, only crickets chirping, faint music emanating from the mess hall. He found his rock and sipped on the beer, stuck in his thoughts. Beer bottle still sealed by his plush lips, Jace caught a glimpse of lights over by his duplex cabin.

Taking a gulp and placing down the bottle he stared at the dim light, an aching feeling crawling up from his belly to chest. Longing. God. He was so dreadfully in love. Taking one more swig he disposed of the bottle and trudged to her side of the cabin.

The door was ajar, Blondie singing about that glass heart. Jace pushed the door open and raised his brows. There she was, pinning a banner up. Per usual the female snapped, “I wasn’t done yet you dunce!”

‘Sorry for being a bitch’

She stepped down and gestured, face aflame, “Well. Here it is.”

Jace noted the trembling in her bravado, the multiple discarded outfits, even a curling iron was steaming on a dresser. She never did her hair or wore make-up. “Are you going to say something or stare? I know I’m a piece of shit!”

Lean arms began to wrap around herself, shying away.

“No, no! Just surprised!,” Jace crawled onto the bed and pulled her to straddle him, taking in that familiar beauty. She blushed and turned her head, but little hands curled under and behind to grab his shoulders. The she-wolf murmured, “I’m really sorry— I’ve never felt this way about anyone and I freaked out. I know I’m crazy…but that was shitty. I-I’ve always held the cards?”

Jace grabbed her chin to look at her long lashes and rouged cheeks, sighing, “You are crazy. But I forgive you. A valiant effort by the way, but you always look pretty to me.” She huffed, Jace smiling and nibbling at sharp jaw. “I don’t do makeup for anyone,” the other brunette stated.

“You gonna keep talking or kiss me sweetheart?”

Stark jerked her gaze towards Jace and took charge eagerly, hands moving to grab his face. Ah great, the radio was on the Doobie Brothers. Sexy time initiated— Jace internally cringed. Their lips sealed eagerly, finding a familiar pattern before Jace licked into her mouth. He got a breathy sigh, an arch closer into his frame.

He grabbed her pretty ass and squeezed, dragging her across his already aching cock. The she-wolf gasped and whined into his maw, lapping harder afterwards, humping him desperately. Jace thumbed a sensitive pulse point on her long neck before sliding a hand under her crochet top— no bra to be found.

Now he had something to work with, both hands relocating to her tits, tweaking and pulling at sensitive buds. She yanked off the top in a flurry, going to work unbuttoning Jace’s linen shirt, kissing her way across tanned skin. He shimmied the top off to push his she-wolf into the bed, him growling at her forced moan.

He rutted into her clothed cunt, the little hotpants doing nothing to hide. Jace rumbled against her ear, “Does it feel good, letting someone else have the cards?” She stuttered a retort— gone squeak as he pulled up on the front of her shorts.

“Fuck yes it feels g-good, get ‘em off!”

Jace grinned, that pretty pussy he missed so much…wet and swollen for him. Him. Only Jace. Sliding back to her chagrin, the male unbuttoned and pushed down his shorts and boxers, heavy member dripping with arousal. Eyes hazy but determined she moaned, “That- ugh- fucking monster is going inside me. Stud.”

Jace nodded, barely catching the bottle thrown at him. He looked down and smirked, a bottle of lube sat in his calloused hands. Jace casually put it aside and hummed, “Gotta get my pretty girl ready first hm?”

The girl almost shrieked when familiar lips met eachother again, Jace lapping and suckling her clit. He sighed, “Y-you’re so fuckin’ wet baby.” She shoved him back down, thighs shaking. Jace flicked his tongue as one, two, three all eventually fit into her tight pussy. Sloppy noises outweighed the background drift of music.

Stark cried and shivered, “Ah-haaah, Jace, fuuuck! Another, Jus’ one more! So close.” He could almost cum right then at her broken voice. Easing a pinky inside, she gasped and shuddered, coming undone when Jace flicked the sensitive spot under the hood of her clit and fucked all fingers up in the way she liked.

“Jace! Jace! Fucking god!,” she hollered.

He kept his mouth wide open for her gush of arousal, moaning and slurping eagerly, until she whimpered and shied backwards. Jace simply took his essence covered hand and jacked his cock a couple of times. He eyed her sated look and asked, “Still want this baby?”

“Uh-huh,” she rasped, legs wide open, cunt twitchy and still shining with arousal.

Jace slathered himself further down with the KY, even taking time to work her stretched opening, earning the cutest little noises. Now pressed on top, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, they stared intensely. She thumbed his cheek and murmured, “I really, really care for you Jacaerys. M’sorry for freaking out. I could probably spare this for later but,” he kissed her gently, hands smoothing up and down soft skin.

“S’okay, I promise, I care for you so much. Now just relax, we both gotta make this work okay?”

Another kiss and Jace led the heavy blunt tip to her soaked entrance. Oh god. He can’t believe this was happening. He tucked his cheek next to the fellow brunette to listen for anything, lacing fingers with her own. It was a big stretch, her panting going hoarse as the first few inches slid in.

Fucking hell. She was like Heaven, so tight n’ silky hot. She gasped, “K-keep goin’ Jacaerys, c’mon.” Soon the fattest part of his length was deep inside, cockhead nearing her cervix. One more push and they were snug as possible— joined completely. In a sweaty tangle of limbs, half-mewling cursed and sweet words.

She kissed him deeply, licking into Jace’s mouth, sighing, “I can feel you, hell, so ah deep.” He could feel it too, the lump in her lower belly. Puffing softly he asked, “Can I? Can I try?” Another peck to sweeten the deal.

“Go for it stud, be gentle.”

He slid back inch by agonizing inch, mouth open with helpless moans of her name. Every inch of her cunt was pulling along him, wanting to suck back in. Then gathering his wits, Jace forced himself up, the she-wolf mewling in glee. Unsteady at first, Jace developed a good pace, sweat dripping down his back, and god knows what leaving his mouth.

She scratched and cried at his shoulders, legs wrapped tight around slim hips. She warbled, “S’good, only you, only you stud, fucking me so good.” Jace’s hips stuttered at that, picking up the pace before he blew from her just being…sexy. Soft slick noises developed into full-on slaps and squeals.

Jace rambled, “Tight- s’tight- ohgodyoursoperfect! Ohhh-only mine!”

He was falling apart fast, balls tight and nerves on fire to bust a nut. She swirled lithe fingers around where they were joined then to her clit, crying and carrying on. Jace rapturously watched— her fingers, their copulation, the belly bulge. In a frenzy he pulled out with a load groan, painting her legs and the bed with loads of spunk.

Unable to catch his breath, Jace flopped onto his belly, leg still woven with his girl’s. The pair rested for a minute, music filling the peaceful void. A raspy voice and warm body curled over to him, her nosing his hair. Practically purring she cooed, “Couldn’t have been better. Too sweet. They make you Velaryon’s different.”

Jace huffed a laugh, rolling her onto his belly, “Was is good enough you’ll call or write me when we go off? If I remember…that stuffy girl’s school isn’t too far from mine.”

Her sculpted lips curled upward, “A hop and a skip they say. Gotta get the lads from somewhere. I’ll be around.”

He grinned and squeezed her. Damn Starks.

#asks answered #au bingo #summer camp!au #jace velaryon x reader #stark!reader #jace velaryon smut #hotd smut

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good4olivia · 2 years

Text

dark!aemond hc's

warnings: late night thoughts, not rlly edited, typos, gaslighting, aemond is a manipulative lil shit, but idc i would do aything for this man, this is the last time i write straight on the tumblr lol

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!maid!reader

you were the only maid he tolerated, you didn't stare at him or try to talk to him, you only did your job. he liked that about you, so much in fact that when the septa moved you to work in the kitchens, aemond threw a fit about it.

"who are you?! where is y/n?" he would yell at the unsuspecting maid in his chambers. she only lasted an evening before you were returned to aemond.

"why did you agree to leave? do you not like being here?" he questioned you, watching as you folded his clothes.

"no, my prince. i simply go where the septa tells me to go, she told me to go work in the kitchens, i went there." you didn't look up at him, you weren't scared that the prince would hurt you but you certainly didn't appreciate the intense look in his eyes

"i don't give a shit what the septa says, you're not to go somewhere else. from now on, you're only job is to look after me"

after that, things changed between you and aemond. before, he would simply just watch you - bend down under his bed, or see your cleavage when you are pouring his wine but now - now, he will touch you. simple, innocent (not really) touches that made your skin crawl.

one night, after he had had too much to drink, he asked you to spend the night in his bed. "just to sleep, my love. i just want to be close to you. don't you want to be close to me?"

you just wanted to sleep in your own quarters, your bed was nothing compared to his, but it was yours

apparently you had taken too long to answer, "i must've been mistaken to believe perhaps you felt the same but how could you? i am disfigured and abrasive, a lady such as yourself could never-"

"no, no of course not my prince. i'm sorry i was just... well honestly i was surprised you asked, i believed my... feelings for you to be only one-sided."

the smile on his face after you said made your stomach errupt in butterflies, you weren't sure which kind

he watched you slip out of your dress, only in your undergarments he could make out your tender body so much more clearly, he already felt his nightpants tighten

aemond did not keep his promise to 'just sleep', when you laid next to him he pulled you close, kissed your hair and gently guided your hand to his cock, "you're so beautiful." he whispered in your hair. "do you feel what you do to me, my flower?"

you moved your hand up and down, his breaths getting sharper and quicker, eventually, he finished as he was kissing, sucking on your neck

you felt ashamed at the wetness pooling down at your core, even more so at the moans that left you as he slipped his fingers in you, "does that feel good my love?" he said, god his voice had never sounded so good.

ever since that night, aemond had barely let you leave his chambers. everyone knew you belonged to him, aemond made no efforts to hide it, he simply did not care.

you, on the other hand, had to deal with jealous and petty maids, making your job harder, as well as cruel remarks from alicent.

as much as your time with aemond was fun, you wished for life before - not that you could ever speak your mind about that. anytime you said something remotely close to wanting some more freedom, he would blow up

"freedom for what? hmm? what can anyone give you that i can't? you're lucky i chose you. "

his outbursts would always be followed by his apologies after a few cups of wine,

"my love please forgive me. i just can't fathom losing you and when you say things like wanting to spend some nights in your old room, what am i supposed to think?"

"i'm sorry my prince, i did not think. i won't bring it up again." he kissed you deeply after that, cupping your face in his hands.

" i don't care what my mother says, you will be my wife. would that make you happy? us being married?"

"oh of course my love, nothing would make. me happier than being your wife."

two moons later, you were wed. aemond had given your family some gold in exchange for the loss of income (now that you were a princess, you were dismissed of your duties)

"i can't wait to see you full with my child." he would say to before finally taking you fully

he vowed to never father basters so before the wedding, he didn't fuck you, only the other stuff

no, you weren't allowed to leave the chambers without him, no any hope of you returning to work you enjoyed was long gone but somewhere down the road, you did end up falling in love with him.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #house of the dragon

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silens-oro · 1 year

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Spoils of War: 6. The Stars Above

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

Spoils of War Masterlist House of the Dragon Masterlist

Synopsis: The pieces of the chessboard begin to move.

Word Count: ~10,292 (holy shit)

Warning: 18+. Targaryen uncle/niece incest (lite, nothing truly weird other than they are both Targaryens), starvation, force feeding, torture, blood, murder, imprisonment, anxiety, psychological trauma, ptsd.

AN: I'm cryin' at the response to Ch. 5. Thank you to everyone who reached out! We get to see a bit of everyone in this one. Is Cregan a lil ooc? Mayhaps. Is Aemond heading into WackyTaffy territory? Mmmmmyeah. Do I care? Nohaps. I create my own false realities, babes. It's just past 1am where I am and this has taken 2 days to edit, so I hope you all enjoy it. Also, my Cregan Stark faceclaim is 100% Arnas Fedaravičius as Sihtric from The Last Kingdom. Season 3 specifically. You're welcome.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated.

It had been three days since Jace landed in Winterfell. It took him no less than half a day along his journey to garner the support of Lady Jayne Arryn within the Eyrie, just as his mother had said. Lady Jayne had apparently laughed Aemond out of her keep more than a week prior, her threat of sending him through the Moon Door not subtle, before he made his rounds to other Houses of the Kingdom.

Jace had been welcomed to the North by Lord Cregan Stark nearly a week later. They had taken to each other like ducks to a pond within moments of meeting. Jace felt familiar to Cregan; he held a striking resemblance to the brother he had lost and Jace's earnestness was not lost on Cregan. Jace spoke truth with every word he shared, and it was a trait that the Lord appreciated greatly.

Cregan welcomed the Prince into his Keep, introduced him to his family, and supped with him at his table. The North was nothing like the young Prince had imagined. It was wet and gray, cold and dreary, but the people fascinated the young Prince. He went hunting with the Lord, bonding even further as if they were already brothers. He introduced Cregan to Vermax, and told him of Maestron. He described how the dragon’s pale scales would blend in with the snow and how the beast would create his own legend up North.

It was equal parts terrifying and fascinating to Cregan. The prospect of having a dragon in the North was daunting. The cost alone to feed it caused a spike of anxiety, not to mention just how safe his people would be with it roaming the countryside freely. There was also the thought of security. The North was a formidable enemy to have without a dragon, but with one…no one in the seven Kingdoms, or elsewhere, would dare to make them their enemy.

The topic of a betrothal to the Princess had been brought up a few times in passing, and while Cregan was not completely for it…he was receptive to the idea. Jace only spoke kind words of you, praises that only went higher and higher. In the end, his words seemed to win over the Warden of the North. If you were only a fraction of what Jace had described in the few days he had been in Winterfell, you would make a fine Lady of the North.

All of this brought Jace to this current moment in time.

He walked next to Cregan through the grounds of the Keep until they reached the Godswood. The vibrancy of the weirwood trees, their blood red foliage a stark contrast to the grays and browns surrounding him, caught his breath at their beauty. Cregan stopped him as they reached the raised and twisting roots of the first tree. He put a large hand upon Jace’s shoulder in a friendly gesture, but his face was serious. His dark brows were furrowed as he looked down to Jace.

“The fact that the Princess has not made her way here yet has not been forgotten by me.” Cregan said with a sigh as he dropped his hand. He could see the panicked thoughts racing through Jace’s eyes as he spoke. “You have been honest with me thus far, Prince Jacaerys, and for that I will give you the benefit of the doubt regarding the Princess’ absence.”

“I thank you for your hospitality and your courtesy, Lord Stark.” He said with a sigh of relief. “I assure you that this is quite unusual behavior with respect to my sister. She was supposed to be here yesterday at the latest.”

“She was.” He agreed. “You are worried?”

“I am.” Jace responded truthfully. Cregan seemed to respect the truth, even if the truth was not appealing.

“And you are sure she has not fled? I can’t imagine the prospect of living in the North would be appealing to a Southern Princess.” It would’ve sounded like a baited question had it been anyone but Cregan Stark. He knew it wasn’t a stretch for a Princess to shun the idea of relocating her life to live in the cold, wet, harsh climates of Winterfell.

“She would not flee.” Jace reassured Cregan, though the crease between his brows let Cregan know that the very idea that she would flee was a slight against his sister. “My sister is a great many things, Lord Stark. Dutiful and punctual are amongst her greatest attributes, I assure you.”

“I meant no offense, my Prince.” Cregan bowed just the slightest bit in respect. “If it would ease your worries, I will have the maester send a raven to Dragonstone. Worry not, Prince Jacaerys. We will get to the bottom of this.” Cregan extended a kind smile that just barely tilted at the corners of his lips.

“I would appreciate that, Lord.”

“Aemond,” Alicent greeted softly as Aemond let himself into her Solar. He allowed himself some time to clean himself up before seeing his mother so he at least didn’t look as he felt. Anxiety swirled in the pit of his stomach and he knew she could see it in his eye. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to rip the bandage from the proverbial wound. He stood with his feet a shoulder’s width apart, his hands clasping tightly behind his back.

“Lucerys is dead.” Alicent’s jaw dropped, as did the cup held within her hand. “As is the Princess.” It felt like the rug had been pulled from beneath her feet.

“How do you know this?” She whispered, taking slow, measured steps towards Aemond. Her breaths quickened, dread filling her chest.

“I was there.” He replied simply. An understatement, perhaps.

“Where?”

“Somewhere between Bronzegate and Stonedance.”

“They were at Storm’s Landing?” She questioned as she stood before him.

“They were.” He swallowed thickly, not able to meet his mother’s eyes. He looked just over her head and out the window. Darkness had since fallen over King’s Landing, shrouding it in shadow. “For the same reason I was.”

“What happened?” Her jaw was clamped tightly, anger rising as her son refused to meet her eyes. He was involved, she concluded. “You will explain yourself now!”

“Vhagar took them from the skies.” The lie was only partial. A gasp fell from Alicent’s parted lips.

“What have you done?” She grasped Aemond’s face in her hands harshly, pulling him down so he would look at her. Aemond could feel his mother shaking with rage. “What have you done?!”

“I could not stop her.” He whispered. “I gave chase to both of them, for that I am guilty. Arrax drew dragon fire onto Vhagar and she did not let his action go unpunished.” He explained. “She went after Arrax and I was unable to stop her.” Alicent could read between the lines. Young Luke, though she held no love for the boy, died horrifically. She let go of her son’s face, stumbling back.

“And the Princess?” She mumbled, shell-shocked.

“She tried to save Lucerys and perished as he did somewhere along Massey’s Hook.” Aemond lied.

“The Massey’s are aligned with the Blacks, Aemond. Surely a raven has reached Rhaenyra by now.” Alicent hissed, angry, frustrated tears welling in her eyes.

“I would assume so.” His tone was indifferent, but inside he was screaming.

“There is no way your beast was not seen. They will know this was you. Daemon will kill you for this, you stupid boy!” Alicent shouted.

“Daemon would kill me for less if given the opportunity. I am not sorry for what has transpired. Neither would’ve made it through this war.” Alicent looked at Aemond like she did not recognize him. “It was a mercy, if anything.”

“War is brutal, mother.” He explains. “Boys like Luke -soft- do not last long, and the women who create that softness survive even less.” Alicent shook her head, her loose curls bouncing in the light of the fireplace.

“The Blacks will strike with everything they have!”

“They have little!” Aemond assured her.

“And now more will flock to them!” Spittle flew from her mouth. “You’ve killed two of Rhaenyra’s children! Your niece and nephew! How could this happen, Aemond? How?!” Alicent screamed, tears falling down her cheeks. “If any House was on the fence that could've swayed to us, we’ve surely lost them!”

“I shall not lose sleep over it, I assure you.” Aemond fronted with a roll of his eye. “They took their chances against Vhagar and got as they deserved.” Still his stomach twisted at his own words. Alicent stared at Aemond, her lip trembling.

“You loved her!” She said in confusion. “Just one month prior you were asking for her hand, and now she is dead?” Alicent sobbed, holding a hand to her chest as she held herself against the high back of a chair. “There is no forgiveness in the eyes of the Seven for this, Aemond.”

“She is better off dead than in the hands of a lord that isn’t worthy of the air she breathes. Mmm,” Aemond hummed. “I suppose it is fortuitous that war is upon us to shield me from further judgment.” He spat. “I’ve secured the bannermen of Storm’s End as I’ve been tasked to do. I shall be wed to the Baratheon girl in a week’s time. I’ve done my duty, mother, and I’ve managed to kill two birds with one stone to keep my brother on his throne. Sacrifices must be made. You said those words yourself.” Alicent had no response. Her lips tilted into a deep frown, her eyes glassy. Her shoulders had hunched as she watched Aemond turn on his heel and leave.

What’s done is done.

Three more days had passed in Winterfell and the weight of your absence felt heavier and heavier upon Jace’s shoulders with each passing day.

A maester quickly approached Cregan and Jace, who were showing off their skills with archery -Jace moreso showing just how un-skilled he was with a bow. The Lord was trying to keep the boy occupied until he got word from Dragonstone. He had other duties to attend to, but something did not feel right in his gut. It was an instinct he learned to trust early on.

“Lord Stark!” The elderly man called, waving a rolled parchment in his hands. Jace let an arrow loose and it did not hit within the circular target, but it did lodge itself just to the right within the wood.

“Progress!” Cregan commended. Jace smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. He was ready to notch another arrow when the maester stopped him.

“My Lord, my Prince,” He bowed, completely out of breath. “I have word from Dragonstone. May we converse somewhere privately?” Cregan looked down to Jace, whose face dropped instantly. The raven the maester sent to Dragonstone still had days before it would reach his mother, so if a raven was here from Dragonstone…something had to have happened.

Cregan took the scroll from the maester and began walking to his council chambers. He unraveled the parchment and read it as he walked with haste. Jace had to nearly run to keep up with his gait. The maester trailed behind both, panting furiously. Once the door to the council chambers was closed, Cregan turned to Jace who looked at him with fear shining in his eyes. His own eyes held a deep sadness, which did not bode well for Jace. Wordlessly, Cregan handed the scroll to the younger boy.

The room was silent as Jace read the message.

He had to sit, lest his legs give out from beneath him. Cregan helped lower the shocked young man, his hand never leaving his shoulder.

“My most sincere condolences, my Prince.” The baritone of his voice vibrated to Jace, who let the parchment slip through his fingers and fall to his feet. He could not feel. He could not think.

Jace dropped his head to his hands in utter agony.

Surrounded by darkness, you did not know if your eyes were truly open or not. Were you alive? Were you in a purgatory of sorts? Was this the afterlife? Hell?

The back of your head pounded angrily and your back felt stiff. You reached to touch the tender flesh, but a weight around your wrists stopped you.

Alive, it would seem, you thought. but Hell all the same.

Chain links clinked together as you moved your hands to where you thought your face was, but even inches from your own eyes you could not see through the void. Your thumbs rubbed over the scabbed skin of your palms. The skin was taut and each stretch of it caused you to hiss in pain. Sighing heavily, you rested your hands back onto your stomach and closed your eyes to let your mind spin.

Lucerys was truly gone. Never would you see his young face mature into that of a man. Never would you hear his voice, his laughter. Never would you see him grow, and learn, and change. He would never become a father or an uncle. He would never be.

Tears cascaded down the sides of your temples with renewed fervor as you sobbed into the darkness. Your stomach clenched as you let the raw emotions take over. Gone was your strength. Gone was your fight. Even if you lived through this -whatever your current situation may be- you would never be able to face your mother again. Guilt began to fester insidiously within your brain. Had you simply kept your mouth shut, would Aemond have given chase? Had you not thrust your own proverbial dagger into his heart and twisted without remorse, would Luke still be alive?

Has Luke’s death been your own doing?

Blame encumbered you like a thick, suffocating blanket that left no air to fill your lungs.

The thoughts of what could have been no longer mattered. The reality was this; Luke and Arrax were dead. Maestron was dead. You were held prisoner somewhere. Luke’s death and your disappearance would surely be the start of a kingdom-wide catastrophe; a deadly dance of dragons that would leave no survivors in its wake.

You did not know how long you had been in your cell before you woke. You did not know if word had reached your father yet. Would he believe you dead? Or would he think you left with Aemond willingly to not marry Cregan Stark? No, you berated yourself. He’d think me dead before believing that I’d willingly betray my family. Still, if they thought you dead, would they have reason to look for your body? One they wouldn’t find? Or would they assume Vhagar had consumed you as she had Luke? A million thoughts raced through your mind. With only the darkness and the rats for company, there was nothing to stop them.

When your eyes opened once more, they shut just as quickly as you buried your face in the itchy wool of your blanket. A hiss left your lips as the light of a torch burned your eyes mercilessly. You re-opened them slowly, allowing them to adjust to the light. Your head throbbed at the intrusion.

Aemond placed the torch into the holder that was fastened to the wall just to the right of the staircase he descended from. This was the first you had seen of your surroundings and they were just as desolate as they had been in the dark.

Your cell was a small rectangle, six feet wide and twice as deep. The foot of your cot faced the bars of the cell. There was a bucket in the furthest corner and that was it. You were in a dungeon, that much could be deduced. The silence that filled your time let you know that you were the only poor soul down here, wherever here was.

Aemond stood at the bars, a tray of food in hand and a cup snugly held to his chest with the crook of his elbow. Your stomach growled loudly at the sight. He pushed the plate through the gap at the bottom of the bars and put this hand through the bars to place the cup next to it.

“Do you fear what I would do to you if you opened the cell door?” Your voice cracked as you spoke. Still you taunted him. You had nothing more to lose.

“I could never fear you.” His voice was soft and his words were not arrogant.

“You should.” You hissed, standing on your bare feet to pick up the plate and cup. Your blanket fell to the dirt floor in a heap. Aemond watched as your chains clinked with your movement until you sat back down on the cot, legs pulled up to sit under you. You tore a piece of bread from the roll on the plate and stuffed it into your mouth. “If I ever get out of these chains, I’ll pluck your remaining eye and make you eat it.” You said it so plainly as if you were discussing the clouds in the sky. Aemond sighed heavily.

“You are in pain. I know you do not mean your words.”

“You know not of the pain I feel.” You snapped, dropping the bread back onto the plate. “You’ve murdered my brother and you think I know not of the words that fall from my lips? This is a betrayal that I will never recover from, Aemond.” Aemond let your words permeate the dungeon for a few moments before he leaned against the bars.

“I did not mean for this to happen...” His voice was just above a whisper. He did not look at you as he spoke. Aemond did not have it in him to truly face you.

“If you’ve come down here to apologize, don’t. There is nothing you could say to me. Nothing.” You shook your head, burying your face in your blanket.

“I do not seek your forgiveness.” Aemond’s voice cracked as he spoke.

“Good.” You hissed. “Because you will get none from me.”

“I do owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me my freedom.” He finally brought his eye to look at you. Your hair was in a rat’s nest, nearly completely free of the braids they were in when you got to Storm’s End. Your eyes were red and swollen, your face blotched with irritated skin and dried blood. You had removed your leather jerkin, leaving your undershirt, riding pants, and smallclothes as the only garments you had on.

“Be that as it may, I cannot let you go.” Aemond sighed and started pacing in front of the cell. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he settled on his next words. “I tried to stop her.”

“Shut up!” You pressed your hands to your ears as best as you could within your shackles. Aemond only spoke louder.

“I did not intend on killing him! I meant to scare him, to scare you and give you both chase. Him for being a little prick and you for my heart! Vhagar did not heed my commands once Arrax had set fire to her.” You brought your hands down and set Aemond with a beastly glare.

“You thought Vhagar -a dragon so vast and old, so battle-hardened, so deadly -does not do as she wishes? That you command her?” You scoffed, leaning back against the stone wall. “No dragon can be tamed, Aemond. She’s bonded to you, not for you. You were stupid to think otherwise.”

“She has never disregarded me-”

“-You goaded your dragon who has fought wars -who has killed men and beast alike- to kill once more and you are surprised she did it?!” You shouted from your cage.

“Had Arrax not attacked with fire he and Luke would be alive! Maestron would be alive!” You stood suddenly, shuffling towards the bars of the cell. Flames would have burst forth from you if they could.

“Had you not given chase in the first place, they would be alive! You’ve done this, not Luke! Not Arrax! My brother’s blood is on your hands, Aemond, and still you play the weak man. Putting blame to anyone’s hands but your own!” Tears had risen once more to your tired eyes. “You were man enough to take flight, to taunt and chase! You will be man enough to take responsibility for what you’ve done!” The rage would never leave you, you vowed. If it took until your last breath, you’d make Aemond pay for what he did. “Vhagar felt your disdain for Luke through your connection. You’ve wanted him dead since we were children, Aemond! Do not lie to me!”

“Yes, I’ve wanted him dead, but not like this.”

“He died for nothing!” You screamed in High Valyrian. Depredation filled Aemond’s very core and overfilled into his soul as he stared down at you. There was nothing he could do or say to put this right. Nothing could fix this disaster he had caused, putting you at the center of the crossfire and Luke as the first casualty of the impending war. “He died for nothing.” You repeated in a whisper, dropping back onto your cot. Your head dropped to your shackled hands and you pulled at the roots of your hair to feel something, anything, other than hellfire within. It was all-consuming. A few moments of still silence passed before Aemond spoke again.

“I am undeserving of any kindness from you, but that does not lessen the blow of each hate-filled word you’ve thrown my way. It felt the same in the Pits, at Storm’s End, and it feels the same here. I will never forgive myself for the pain I’ve caused, the nephew I’ve slain. That is something I must live with until my final breath. And I will.” Aemond sniffed and you knew then that he was shedding tears, or close to it. “I love you...so deeply. If I could rip my own beating heart from my chest, I would if it meant an end to this torment. I’ve been broken my whole life…but I’ve never felt completely broken until the day you denied me in the Pits. I felt the ground crumble beneath me and I fell into an endless misery.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I am still falling.”

You did not respond to Aemond. You could not take a single word more from him. With each word that tumbled from his lips, your stomach flipped. Pulling the itchy blanket over you, you turned your back to him and faced the wall in the fetal position. Aemond granted you the small mercy of rest, but he also took the torch with him, blanketing you in darkness once more.

The passing of time was impossible to gauge accurately. Aemond hadn’t returned to see you in what you assumed were days. In his place a young woman of -at maximum- six and ten visited your cell to leave you a tray of food and a cup of water. An estimated six days had passed, based off this timing assumption, and this was the seventh.

A week.

The news had to have reached your family by now. You couldn’t imagine the devastation that would ravage them. Your mind went to Jace first, who always tried to be mature and brave. He would be absolutely gutted. To lose both of his eldest siblings was going to be the most trying thing he had ever encountered, and you didn’t want to think of the psychological breakdown he would inevitably have over this. Young Joffrey would surely miss you and Luke, though he was just young enough to not fully grasp the situation. The same went for Aegon III and Viserys II.

Next you thought of your mother. You hoped this would light a fire so deep within her that she’d lay waste to everything the Greens held dear. If there was any good to come out of this, it was the hope of more support would gather for her within the realm. You felt genuine fear in the pit of your stomach at the thought of seeing her again. Would she blame you for what happened to Luke? Would she resent you for living? You would not blame her if she did.

You knew the prospect of your death would send your father to the brink of no return. He truly loved Rhaena and Baela, but you…you were his firstborn. You were his pride and joy, his near likeness. You were everything he could’ve hoped for from a child. He loved you from the very second he lay his eyes on you, and much like the bond your lineage had with the dragons, you had one with your father. You hoped the connection hadn’t been lost to him, that he held hope. Without it, you would surely perish in this dreaded darkness.

“You finally grace me with your presence.” You spat as Aemond set his torch down in the holder. He did not have a tray with him this time around, and you wondered if you would be eating this night. “I’m flattered.” Your tone stated the contrary.

“You asked me a question…down in the Pits. The answer seemed obvious until now.” Aemond’s hands were clasped before him as he spoke. You did not bother giving him your attention.

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Would I choose you?” Aemond stared at you as you finally looked at him, and it felt unnerving. “I did.” He whispered. “I chose you when I made the decision to take you. I know what the question implied. Love does questionable things to the brain, I suppose, but in the end I chose you.” All you could do was shake your head as tears built back up, your throat constricting.

“You do not love me. You may have…once, but not anymore.” You choked out. “You’ve killed my brother and I am caged like an animal. You do not extend your love with the likes of brutality.”

“This is not a kind world, Princess, and I am not a kind man. Still, my affections remain.”

“Before all of this madness, you have been kind to me!” You reasoned. “You cannot stand there and tell me otherwise! You can be a kind man but you choose not to be! You can fix this, Aemond! I’ve known you to be a great many things, but stupid is not one of them. This…this is stupid.”

“In that you are not wrong.” He relented. “My love for you will never die, this is true…which is why you are still alive. I could have let you run off that cliff. I could have. You are here for your own safety.”

“You cannot keep me locked down here in the dark with the rats forever! This is a fate worse than death!” You shouted from your cot.

“Once my sister and uncle have fallen, there will be no more need to keep you hidden. You shall be placed on a pedestal for all to see; my spoils of a war won. We shall live out our days peacefully.”

“You will not win this war, Aemond. To believe so is a naïveté that I did not believe you of all people capable of harboring. You have taken two of my mother’s children from her. I know she believes me dead. You will not live to see the end of this, she will make sure of it. My father will make sure of it. Jace will make sure of it. You’ve signed over your own execution is all you’ve done!”

Aemond breathed in at the mention of Daemon. He knew the road ahead would not be easy, and if there was a foe that would be hardest to best, it would be him. His will to persevere would surely bring success. It had to.

You stood, inching your way over to the bars of the cell. The shackles on your ankles left little room for steps, but you made due. Your shackled hands grasped at the bars, iron clanking against iron as your face pushed between them to get as close to Aemond as you could, eyes pleading with him to see reason. “Free me and we may be able to stop this! If they know I am at least alive-”

“I’ve killed one of her sons. I have done the unforgivable. Returning you will not change that fact.”

“My return will lessen the blow!” Frustration laced your voice.

“It will not. Regardless, no one knows you’re here with the exception of my Shadow, and no one else will know. Once this war is won,” Aemond reached his hand through the bars to cradle your cheek in his palm. A nimble finger delicately traced over the bridge of your nose. The slight bump was a reminder of what his brother did to you during the last time your families would ever join together as one, of what started the whole domino effect that led you both to where you stood currently. “We shall marry as we intended.” His grip on you tightened. “I will love you, honor you, give you all the children you wish. All that you desire, you shall have.” You sobbed openly, though they were cries of devastation and not happiness as they would’ve been previously. The life you once dreamed of, would have sacrificed anything for, was being given to you in a way you did not bargain for nor want.

“And your marriage to the Baratheon girl?” The look that overcame Aemond’s face was unsettling, his thumb stroking the apple of your filthy cheek.

“My duty has been fulfilled.” His voice was just above a whisper, a tone used between lovers, not of a hostage and her captor. Your eye twitched as tears continued to well. You looked up at Aemond. “But do not fret; There are ways to end an unwanted marriage.” Anger filled your heart once more as your jaw clenched.

“Delusions.” You spat. “Any love I have harbored in my heart for you died with Lucerys, and my Maestron, you fool!” You pushed yourself away from the bars, Aemond’s hand falling back to his side. The chains imprisoning you rattled as you pulled them with you to the back of the cell, as far as you could be from Aemond’s searing eye.

“I have loved you truly!” You screamed, “I have loved you willingly!” Aemond’s chest tightened at your confession. His brows furrowed as he looked to the ground. He bit his bottom lip then rolled his eye back up to meet yours. “Instead of happiness, this is the path you’ve chosen! One of cruelty and viciousness! Death and destruction! Murder and blood! Of treachery and devastation! You may have me physically, but you will never truly have me, Aemond. Never. Not after what you have done.” Your chest heaved and you felt much older than your years. Aemond stared at you for a moment, taking your feral appearance in.

“We shall see.” The corners of Aemond’s lips tilted up just slightly before he turned, taking the flame of the torch with him.

You had no idea what time had passed since you last saw Aemond. Your conversation must’ve sat heavily with him if he could not face you. The coward, you thought. Scratching in the distance caught your ear, as it had the last couple of nights. It was grating on your nerves as it continued night after night. Damned rats, you thought with a scowl.

You could only time your days by the meals that were brought to you by a mouse of a girl -his Shadow, Aemond had called her. She was the only human that you interacted with besides Aemond.

No matter how much you begged upon your arrival, the girl would not sway in releasing you. There was a reason she and she alone attended to you. Her devotion to Aemond was baffling.

By the third meal cycle since you saw your captor, you refused to eat. Each meal after that was left at the foot of your cell and was taken away hours later just the same as it had been brought, some bits picked at by the rats that scuttled in the darkness. It was four more meal cycles before Aemond himself reappeared.

“You are starving yourself.” You were huddled in the furthest corner of the cell on the ground, your knees bent up to your chest. A clean woolen blanket was cocooned around your body as you shivered in the darkness. “Why?”

Your voice was hoarse from the minimal water you consumed, and underused from lack of speaking. You did not beg the Shadow for help after the third meal cycle.

Your dry lips cracked and bled as you moved them. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your dry mouth.

“What need do I have of food? I will die down here, I am sure of it.” You didn’t bother looking at him. “No need to prolong the inevitable.” Your strength had left you as your body started to waste away.

The bright flames of the torch burned your eyes as you tilted your head from your knees to look at Aemond. He placed the torch snugly into the holder in the wall as you pushed your face back down into the blankets.

Aemond crouched down on the other side of the bars, hands clasped together as his forearms rested on his thighs.

“You may eat willingly, or I will force it into you. One way or another, you will consume it.” You did not look up as he spoke, just let your silent tears soak into the wool. You did not know how many more you had left to give. “You will live.”

The two strangers, a man and a woman, looked nervously between Daemon and Caraxes, who stood menacingly on the shore’s cliff behind his rider. The winds of Rosby’s shores were fierce as they blew around the trio standing in the sand.

“We thank you for meeting with us on such short notice, Prince Daemon.” The woman spoke first. Daemon merely held up the scroll that was sent to him, the information within it was either damning or a true revelation.

“Speak plainly. You do not give this information out of the goodness of your heart, I’m sure.” Daemon’s already short fuse was nearly non-existent now.

“She lives.” The woman spoke earnestly. “The Princess lives.” Daemon took slow, deliberate steps to her, eyes squinting against the wind. The large man next to the woman was quick to draw his sword, but a warning snarl from Caraxes was all he needed to stand down.

“For your sake, the words you speak better be the truth.” Daemon warned.

“They are, your Grace.” The woman assured Daemon.

“What proof do you have?”

“The Princess is locked in a cell beneath the Red Keep. She has none of her own belongings with her. If I could’ve brought something to you, I would have. To stand before you, empty handed with naught but my own word, is terrifying -I will not lie, but alas -my word is all I have.”

“Is it silver you’re after? Money? Land? What would you have me give you for your word?” Caraxys chittered behind his rider, sensing the irritation flaring in Daemon. “You wish to be fed to my dragon for a ploy?”

“N-no, your Grace! We are f-firm supporters of Queen Rhaenyra,” The man spoke, trying not to stutter. “Just as our Lord is.” The thick accents had caught Daemon’s attention when the woman had spoken initially. Daemon’s eyes narrowed. “What has happened to Prince Lucerys and the Princess was a travesty, my Prince. This is why our Lord sent us here.”

“Your Lord?” Daemon pushed.

“Lord Cregan Stark.” The woman answered. Daemon made a face at the pair.

“Cregan Stark does not bother with matters outside of his own land, especially of those so far South.” The woman nodded and explained further:

“Lord Stark initially accepted the offered betrothal to the Princess, even if that acceptance was known only to Prince Jacaerys. This treachery by Prince Aemond is an affront to House Stark as it is to your own House.” The wind blew her auburn hair in a tornado of red. “As you know, our Lord is a man of his word. To break an oath is an offense met with the swing of a sword. Lord Stark accepted the betrothal and feels it is his duty to do all he can to ensure the Princess is returned safely.”

“He has never met my daughter. He holds no love for her. He has nothing tying him to her other than a botched betrothal and he sends spies to King’s Landing?” Daemon could only feel suspicion towards the pair before him.

“Prince Jacaerys was not convinced that Prince Aemond would kill the Princess.” Ah, Daemon thought. Of course Jace was involved with this nonsense. “Not after their shared…history.” She treaded softly around her choice of words. “It was by the Prince’s request to our Lord that we be sent to infiltrate the Red Keep. We did, and we found her, your Grace. Truly.” Daemon stared at the pair, gauging their words carefully.

“Is it a reward you are looking for in return?” He questioned. The woman shook her head.

“The only payment we are requesting, your Grace, is that you keep your end of the offered betrothal to tie the Houses of Targaryen and Stark together as promised once she is free.”

“If you deliver my daughter to Dragonstone alive, I will supp with Cregan Stark myself to complete the terms. If my daughter is alive, there is no telling what condition she will return in.” Both strangers nodded, relief evident on their faces.

“We return to King’s Landing tonight. Should all go according to plan, we should reach the shores of Dragonstone in no later than a month’s time, your Grace.”

Weeks -or what you thought were weeks- had passed. Aemond and his Shadow watched over you diligently after your failed hunger strike. You gave most of the food to the rats, who had made themselves comfortable in your cell with you.

There was one rat in particular who kept you company most days. He had a healed stump where one of his front paws should’ve been. Simon, you had named him. A simple name for a simple creature. He was a curious little rodent, and had an easy temperament -as easy as a rat’s could’ve been. His brown fur was soft the handful of times he allowed you to touch him with the tips of your fingers. You’d gained his trust with pieces of bread, fruit, and the occasional marzipan cake that was on your tray.

I know they are your favorite, Aemond had told you the first time he brought a tray with one down.

A small comfort, he said.

Not once did you eat the cakes out of principle alone. The little rat, however, loved to pick at the pomegranate seeds and dried fruit that usually topped the cakes before dragging the sweet confections off into the darkness.

Simon lived like a little King of the Dungeons thanks to your offerings.

Still, you only picked at the food on the tray enough to stay alive as of recent. Aemond had made good on his promise of force feeding you after nearly ten days on your hunger strike, and you wished to never experience that horrifying series of events ever again. Drinking water was enough to trigger you on some days, your gag reflex not allowing the liquid to go down without choking you.

What an agonizing existence.

The creek of the iron door was the only warning you got before you were pulled up on your cot by rough hands. Your arms were pulled up and the shackles around your wrists were attached to a hook above the cot, leaving you incapable of using your arms.

Aemond was furious when you looked into his eye. Your confusion and exhaustion did not give you the proper mindset to ask what was happening until it was too late. His body was draped over yours on the cot to hold you still, a calloused hand held your jaw firmly, his fingers bruising your gaunt cheeks as he held your mouth open with painful force. The fingers of his other hand pinched your nostrils closed.

“Now.” He ordered, tilting your head back causing you to cry out in pain. You didn’t even see his Shadow until she was pouring warm broth into your mouth. You choked and sputtered, spitting it all over yourself and Aemond before he could push your mouth closed. He held his hand over your lips, fingers still holding your nostrils closed to force you to swallow. Tears fell from your eyes as you begged silently for air and pulled at your chains. The raw skin of your wrists ripped open as you fought against the irons. The warm trickle of blood only caused you to panic even further.

Once Aemond saw the bulge of liquid go down your throat, he freed your mouth just enough so you could cough and draw breath for a mere moment before he held your jaw painfully once more.

“Again.” He ordered, and the Shadow poured more broth into your mouth as you cried out. “I told you.” He spat as your eyes bulged, tears cascading down your bruising cheeks. “I told you and you did not listen.” He removed his hands from you completely, but he did not move away. You fell to the side, gasping for air and coughing out the broth that snaked its way to your lungs. Your brutal coughs echoed in the bare dungeon, the chains of your shackles rattled with each pull of haggard breath. You pushed your face into your arm as you sobbed hysterically. Aemond grabbed your chin once more to make you look at him.

“Though it pains me, I will continue to do this…or you will eat on your own.” He gave you your choices once more. You merely nodded, unable to look at him.

You stopped speaking to him entirely after that. You spoke to Simon when something needed to be said aloud. The rat’s company was much more preferable to Aemond’s, too.

Aemond hadn’t been down to see you in days, though his Shadow was diligent. It was equally relieving as it was troublesome when he was absent. It was a relief to not see him, or hear him speak to you. It was troublesome because the Gods only knew what terrors he was unleashing upon the realm.

Sat on the ground, cocooned in your blanket, you watched as Simon carried little bits of bread in his mouth to a hole in the wall of your cell. After so long in the darkness, your eyes had adjusted just enough that you could spot his small black mass moving about the cell. He stopped before you and you reached your fingers out to give him a pat on his little head before handing him a grape. He took it greedily within his mouth and hobbled back into the hole with his bounty, surely building up quite the store to snack on later.

“My Princess,” A voice called out, a whisper in the vast nothingness of your dungeon. “Please hear my words,” I’ve finally reached madness, you thought. Words without a mouth had reached your ears. “You are not alone. You have friends in the darkness of the Red Keep, Princess. The black flames will bring life to you once more, you must hold fast.”

Was it Simon that had spoken? Your eyes watched as his hefty little body scurried up to your feet. Your cellmate looked up at you, standing tall on his two back feet. “Have faith. You will be free of this wretched place soon, but you must first gain your strength. Eat.” Simon’s tiny mouth did not move as he looked at you, but you heard the words nonetheless. “Wait for my word and look to the stars for guidance.”

“Targaryen madness,” You mumbled out loud, burying your face into your blanketed knees dejectedly. Your eyes closed as the rat scurried away.

The sound of metal clinking together made your head perk up. A small sack was tossed into your cell from the darkness outside of it. You stretched your arms as far as you could without moving your aching body and took it within your bound hands. You winced with each rub of the irons against your already raw and torn skin.

The sack was not large, and it was not weighty. Undoing the drawstring and poking a hand inside, your fingers caught a keyring. Pulling it from the sack, a single rusted key dangled from it. Placing it carefully on your lap, you felt around the sack once more and was met with the handle of a small dagger. Its blade was sharp, the end pointed dangerously. Your breaths quickened in anxiety.

Shakily, you know unwrapped your bare feet from the blanket and tested the key on the irons around your ankles. To your surprise the latch popped open with a creak.

Testing the shackles on your wrists, the same happened. The relief you felt with the irons fell away from your raw flesh brought tears to your eyes.

Soon, you thought. Just a little bit longer.

Stuffing the key and dagger inside a small slit on the side of your mattress, you re-shackled yourself and wrapped the blanket around you once more.

There truly was hope yet.

Each day that passed you slowly ate off the trays, little by little.

It was three meal cycles before you heard the voice again. It had awoken you from your dreamless void, a hopeful whisper in the darkness.

“The dragon flies tomorrow, Princess. Do what you must. I will be waiting.” Do what you must. Your hand felt the side of the mattress for the dagger that hadn’t moved since it was thrown into your cell. Feeling the solid butt of the handle, you resigned yourself to what would surely be a point of no return.

You would escape or you would die trying.

The Shadow brought your tray of food the following day, just as she always did and as she was putting it on the ground to slide under the bars, you stopped her.

Your ankles and wrists were unshackled, but the chains still led underneath your blanket so anyone who looked into the cell was none the wiser.

“My bones ache,” Your voice sounded like a crack of fire. It startled the Shadow enough to nearly drop the tray of food to the ground. You hadn’t spoken to her since your first week in the cell. There was no reason to.

Your eyes burned as the light from the torch on the wall glowed brightly. “I cannot so much as stand to crawl onto my bed. Please bring it in. Hunger burns my belly and I cannot move to reach the tray. Please.” You feigned absolute weakness, burrowing your face back into the blanket. You took a few deep breaths, stealing yourself for what was to come should she take the bait.

She studied you, deeming if your change of heart was a ploy. It seemed that she harbored some pity towards your dwindling existence by the look on her face.

“I will live,” You spoke again. “Out of spite, I will live.” Your words held a double meaning, though she wasn’t privy to that. She will be soon.

The Shadow sighed before opening the cell door and cautiously took steps towards you. It seemed poor judgment was a trait she had with all things, much to your good fortune.

The dagger was grasped tightly in your shaking palm beneath the blanket.

The girl kneeled down to set the tray down softly next to you and as her eyes rolled up to meet yours, hers widened in fear. Your very alert, lucid eyes were glaring back at her furiously.

Before she could make a sound, you tackled her with the little strength you had built. You pushed your filthy blanket over her face to muffle her screams and plunged the dagger anywhere it could find purchase. The Shadow’s nails scraped across your face and neck as she swung blindly, doing everything she could to get you off of her until she did not have the strength to flail her arms any longer.

Blood splattered across your face and body, the walls were streaked with it. The Shadow’s sick gurgling slowly faded as blood seeped through the blanket via her mouth. The twitching of her legs continued for a moment until it too stilled.

You stayed leaned on her placid body, continuing to push the blanket into her face for good measure as you tried to catch your breath. The blade felt heavy in your hand and it felt as if your lungs would collapse from the adrenaline coursing through you.

Knowing you had to move quickly, you gathered your courage and stood. Stealing the bread from the tossed tray, you stuffed half in your mouth, then tossed the other half to Simon’s hideaway for him to find later. You would miss your little friend.

Taking your first bare step out of the cell, it felt like the weight of the world had fallen from your shoulders for the briefest of moments. You grabbed the torch from the wall with a shaking hand, the heat like nothing you’ve felt since your capture. You felt like a moth to its flame. The dagger was clutched firmly in your other hand.

Looking in all directions, you didn’t have the first clue on where you should go. The only direction you knew you couldn’t go was up the staircase that Aemond and his Shadow used.

“Look to the stars,” She had said. Your eyes rolled up to look at the stone above you. Raising the torch with a weak arm revealed small x’s that had been scratched into the stone.

ScratchingScratchingIt wasn’t the rats scratching at the walls, driving you to madness night after night.

The trail led you down a corridor that housed a row of more empty cells. This wing had been long abandoned, if your own imprisonment told you anything. Your head stayed on a swivel to make sure you were alone in your travels.

The x’s stopped at a nondescript cell. You held the torch in front of you, trying to see what was inside. By all accounts there was nothing to behold. It was just as your cell was, bare but for a cot and a bucket, and a hook to hold shackles.

Curiously, you stepped within. You held the torch as close to the walls as you could to inspect. There was nothing on the ceiling, nothing on the walls. Becoming frustrated, you kicked at the cot, sending it skidding across the dirt of the floor. Your eye caught it just as you were turning to leave. An x marked in white just inches above the ground.

You fell to your knees as you brought your trembling hand to the stone. It shook loosely causing you to gasp. You dropped the torch, using both of your hands to pry at the stone. Your malnourished nails broke and splintered as you tried to claw the stone from where it sat. It finally came loose and with it came your first breath of the fresh ocean air outside of the walls of the Red Keep. A sob tumbled from your lips as you tasted freedom. Your hands were bloodied as they pulled stone after stone from the hole to make a space big enough to squeeze through.

Sunlight did not filter through the hole, and as you peaked through it you saw nothing but the moon illuminated over the ocean. Night. How many moons have passed since your capture? How long have you been living in torment?

Please, please, please, you begged the Warrior. This was not a battle, but it was certainly a war for survival. Please see me to safety under your protection, I beg.

“She is here.” A voice said in a hushed manner as you were halfway through the hole. “Pull her out. Quickly!”

A pair of hands grabbed you by your biceps and tugged you from the dungeon. You lay on your stomach for a moment, the touch of wild grass on your skin was nearly too much for you to take.

“We must hurry, my Princess.” The voice from the dungeon called to you softly. Looking up, you saw two people shielded by their cloaks under the cover of darkness. “You need to change,” She handed you breeches and a tunic before motioning for the other person to turn around. “I apologize for how untoward this is, but you must redress. There are boots here,” She pointed next to the hole in the dungeon. You did not care for your modesty. You were outside of the walls of the Keep, outside of the dungeon. You’d do just about anything to leave this place.

You ripped the soiled and bloody clothes from your body and redressed as quickly as you physically could. The woman helped you keep your balance and let you go once you were upright with the boots slipped onto your feet. She grabbed a cloak from the second stranger and draped it over you with the hood covering your hair.

“We are to head down to the port. A boat will be waiting for us and will set sail the second you step foot aboard. We do not have much time, so we must act with haste.” You could only nod as you allowed her to lead the three of you through a broken grate that led you back into King’s Landing. It would be far more difficult to pick you out in a city of people than it was to take your chances on the outskirts of the walls.

The muscles of, or lack thereof, your legs screamed with each step. After weeks of not using them, the muscle had begun to deteriorate. Had you not had adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you don’t think you would have made it even halfway through the city.

“We must push forward.” The woman encouraged you with a gentle hand on your back. “We are almost there.” You were not almost there, but you were getting closer with each step you took and that was encouragement enough for you.

You pushed yourself for maybe fifteen more minutes before your legs collapsed. The second stranger, a man, caught you before you hit the ground.

“My legs. I cannot go any further.” You were close to tears from pain and frustration.

“We are close.” The woman noted, taking a look at their surroundings. “On your back,” The woman ordered the man. He nodded and lowered himself so she could help you climb onto his towering form. His hands were firm around the backs of your legs and you held onto his shoulders with shaking arms. “Fear not.” The woman’s voice was light so as to not worry you. You had heard that tone enough from your mother growing up to recognize it.

Resting your head against the man’s back, you trusted both of these strangers to lead you to safety.

A little over a half hour later and the jostling of going down a set of stairs woke you. Your grip on the man’s shoulders tightened as you came to. Ships met your eyes, and even at night the docks were bustling. The woman went ahead, slipping a coin pouch to a shipmaster who was documenting which ships were coming and going from the port. He simply took the pouch and looked the other way as they hurried down the dock.

All three of you loaded onto the ship, and just as the woman said, it was undocked immediately and set sail.

The voyage to Dragonstone did not seem real. Paranoia seemed to settle deep within you, waiting for Vhagar’s gargantuan Shadow to descend upon the small vessel at any moment, plunging it to the bottom of the bay to rest eternally in the briney sediments below.

You could feel every fiber of muscle, every tenon, ligament and bone within your body. Every nerve sang in pain. The sun, that you hadn’t seen in months as it would turn out, hurt your eyes. Its reflection upon the water’s surface made it worse.

“We are nearly there, Princess.” The woman assured you with a kind smile. Nearly two weeks in the boat had nearly killed you. The first two days you could not keep food down between the rocking of the waves and the anxiety of being found. By the fourth day you could keep bread and water down. Your stomach was still shrunken so it did not take much to satiate you.

Halfway into your second week, you were gaining your strength. You weren’t a fraction as strong as you used to be, but it was a step in the right direction.

Even aboard the boat as long as you were, you knew nothing about the group that rescued you. They would not give you any details other than they knew who you were and where you belonged, and that they were tasked with getting you home.

Home, you thought as you looked out over the open ocean. I’m going home.

Menial conversations were had between you and the woman who spoke to you from the Shadows of the dungeon. In your mind, you nicknamed her The Rat for the mistaken identity you had given her at your lowest point within that cell. The real Simon had never spoken to you as it turned out, but she did. It was a silly association that you’d keep to yourself. The last thing you wanted was to offend the person who stuck their neck out to release you. Even still, if she would not give you a name, she’d keep the one you silently gave her.

The Rat would answer your questions in such a roundabout way that it wasn’t worth asking them after a certain point. You’d get no answers from her, nor the three others aboard.

The blurred sight of a dragon against the sun in the distance caused your stomach to turn violently. Panic took hold of your mind and you started to hyperventilate. Your breaths were shallow and uneven, the air not filling your lungs entirely. You felt lightheaded within moments, ready to faint.

He found you. Was the only thought you had. Aemond found you.

Now, surely, you were going to die and so were the people that aided in your escape. In true fight or flight fashion, or delirium as the Rat called it after your first freak out early on in the voyage, you made ready to jump from the side of the boat as the beast got nearer.

You would not return to the cell, nor would you meet the fate your brother did. You’d gratefully take gulps of the sea until you sank to the ocean floor before you let Aemond put his hands on you ever again.

“My Princess! No!” The woman yelled, pulling onto your arm with all her strength so you could not jump. Your other held firmly to the edge of the ship, your legs in a wide stance as she pulled.

“He’s come!” You shouted frantically. Your eyes were manic and could not remain still as you looked upon her. The Targaryen Madness was still present, the Rat thought with sadness. She cursed the Prince for what he had done to you.

“You must jump too!” You tried pulling her with you. “All of you!” Tears fell steadily at the thought of more death that was surely to befall these poor souls who did not deserve it. “He will show no mercy to conspirators!”

“Princess, I beg you! Look!” She held you tightly, grasping your chin to look towards the dragon that came closer into view. The red scales and signature long neck of Caraxes came into focus and you fell to the deck of the boat. The Rat fell with you encircled in her arms, holding you tightly between her legs. You held onto her arms, nails digging into her skin.

Hysterical sobs overtook your body as Caraxes flew over the small ship, causing the vessel to rock. You could see your father atop him, though he was only a speck. His long hair flowed in the wind valiantly. This was one of the things you thought you’d never see again in this life.

One of the men in the boat waved a banner with the emblem of a gray direwolf on it to let Daemon know exactly who they were and who they had with them. Your mind could not piece together the banner with the people, your confusion only causing a dizzy spell to overcome you.

Daemon circled the boat a few more times to make sure your vessel hadn’t been followed by man or beast. The Blood Wyrm’s screech filled the air, blanketing you in safety and security as he made his way back to Dragonstone.

“I told you, Princess!” The Rat held your face in her hands as she spoke with a toothy grin. “I told you we were almost there! You are home!” You sobbed into her chest and she held you to her like a mother would her child.

You made it.

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sunfyresrider · 1 year

Text

Valentines w Aegon

Summary: Aegon forgot what day it was and now has to spend the entire day proving he is better than Aemond.

pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Reader warning: little bit of smut, little bit of fluff, lil bit of Aegon being an idiot, a whole lotta redemption word count: 2,000+ note: not my best smut bc I added it on at the last minute

Aegon didn't wake up early that day. In fact, he woke up around noon as he usually did. You had been married for a few years now and it still perplexed you how he so easily forgot holidays. You weren’t furious, he was always the most forgetful man you met. Actually, you doubted if he even remembered the days of the week.

He finally showed up to come see you for his very late breakfast. “Good morrow, love.” Aegon placed a quick kiss on your cheek and took the seat across from you. “It’s past noon, love.” You didn’t mean for your words to leak so much venom, but it was too late. Mayhaps you were angrier than you originally thought.

"I know, I'm sorry." He sighed, "I overslept again. Are you angry?" No, you never cared that he overslept. You overslept half the time anyway. You were upset he forgot a holiday that was made for couples. “I am not angry.” You said in defense before taking a bite of your food.

Aegon knew you like the back of his hand or well cock. He knew his cock much better than his hand at this point. Every time you lied you avoided eye contact, and your voice lost all emotion. What the hell did he do this time? Aegon hadn’t drank lately and he definitely wasn’t sleeping with other women. Did he forget something again?

You ate your meal in awkward silence. Aegon spent most of the time lost in his head trying to figure what he had done wrong. Normally he would ask but the quote “don’t poke the bear,” kept repeating in his head. He watched you get up and leave without saying goodbye. That stung more than he cared to admit. What the hell did he do?

Aegon wandered the halls aimlessly trying to figure out what he had done when he noticed his brother. Aemond was carrying flowers and a box of something. Did he forget someone’s birthday? “Brother, what are you doing?” Aegon called out to Aemond. He stopped in his tracks and eyed him up and down. “What does it look like I’m doing,” he spoke.

Aegon didn't understand the attitude his brother had either. "Why are you bringing these here?" He could tell by the way Aemond looked at him that he was judging him. “I’m taking these to mother… Are you even aware what day it is? No, he obviously wasn’t aware. “Shit! I thought her birthday wasn’t for another moon.” His brother scoffed at him.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, wastrel.” The realization dawned on him. He had forgotten another holiday. “Oh.” Aemond rolled his eyes, “I pity your wife.” He walked off, probably thinking that he would be a better husband. It drove Aegon insane the superiority complex Aemond held. “I pity you! You don’t even have a wife.” His brother didn’t even turn around and instead chuckled in the distance. Fuck, what was he supposed to do now?

He decided to go to his sister for help. “Hel… could you help?” He awkwardly asked from inside the door frame. She peered up from her embroidery and pursed her lips together. “You forgot, huh?” Her voice was soft as she spoke. He felt his face burn with embarrassment. Aegon shrugged, "Mayhaps." He stood there silently waiting for her to say anything else. Helaena hummed as she took her time to reply. “I suppose I can.”

“Thanks Hel.” He smiled nervously. She was always the most dependable sibling. Even though they had nothing in common she treated him better than the others. Obviously, she judged him internally but didn’t show it. “You should go to the gardens. She really enjoys the roses there.” He knew that his wife always used rose oils after bathing. “Also, a present. You can find chocolates and jewelry in the markets.” He nodded intently. “Mmm… take her some place special like a restaurant.”

Aegon ran over and kissed Helaena on the cheek which caused her to flinch back. She always hated affection. “You’re a godsend, Hel.” With newfound confidence he took off down the hallway.

The day went by slowly for Aegon. He managed to pick a handful of perfect flowers for her or what he considered perfect. Then he had to sneak out to go to the markets and track down what he needed. He kept repeating chocolates and jewelry in his head over and over. He felt like an idiot. Why couldn't he just remember?

He grotesquely underestimated the sheer number of different kinds of jewelry and candies. Why were there so many fucking options? How do you know what kind to pick? Aegon didn't want to overspend either, but he wanted to surprise his wife and make her happy.

An idea of his own finally dawned on him. He should just get her a necklace made of Valyrian steel. It perfectly showcased his heritage, and it was super rare. He had faith it would be a hit.

Aegon didn’t expect the bargaining he had to do with the shop owner to buy it. It costed an entire arm and leg. The owner didn’t even care he was a prince, fucking bastard. After he got his hands on it, he made his way to the chocolates once more. At first, he only bought one box, but he ended up buying five. It was too hard to figure out which ones she would like and now she would have enough to last at least a month. That’s what he told himself to make him feel better about the money he was spending.

Alas, he went home feeling relieved. He was going to give his wife a gift worth remembering. She deserved it, after all this time, she still loved him unconditionally and he appreciated that. But once he got home, he was greeted with the most despicable sight. “What are those.” You turned your head and glanced at your husband. “I was spending time with your mother and Aemond, he gave me these.” It was a disgusting bouquet of red roses. Aegon was going to kill him. He scoffed, “Roses are so basic.” He ignored the fact that he had his own hidden in the other room.

You felt hurt at his words. These were your favorites and you always smelled like them. You thought he loved roses on you. “At least he remembered.” Aegon didn’t bother replying. He stomped out of the room like a child throwing a tantrum. Fucking Aemond, he had to show him up now. It was always a game of who was better even on holidays. You sat there mildly offended and confused at his attitude. Normally he would at least apologize.

Aegon’s mission quickly changed from trying to get his wife to forgive him to proving he was better than Aemond. “Ser Erryk, I need you to kidnap my wife.” The guard's stoic expression contorted in confusion. “Excuse me, My Prince?” Aegon was in a rather shit mood. “I need you to kidnap my wife and take her here.” He pointed to a place on the map. Erryk knew better than to question a prince but what could he be plotting. “No questions asked, just do it at sunset and be swift.” The prince stormed off and Erryk stood there in confusion. He thought he was finally improving since he was wed.

Aemond was sat in his room reading a book. He was rather proud of today to say the least. He spent time with his mother and sister-in-law. He gave them both gifts since their husbands were worse than rubbish. Normally, he spent time with Helaena but not after she got betrothed. Her husband actually cared about her feelings and spending time with her.

To be clear, if he wanted Aegon’s wife he would have had her years ago. She was his friend before she was his brother's lover. But neither had any interest in each other. He simply wanted to show her that she was appreciated by someone just like he did with his mother. Internally he knew that would drive his brother crazy, but he was happy about it. Maybe, the threat of someone stealing her away would make him get his act together.

What Aemond didn’t expect was a knock at his door and the sounds of feet scurrying away. He peered out his door and noticed a bundle of flowers crushed up on the floor beneath him. Along with a note in terrible handwriting.

“I can take care of my wife, thank you very much.”

He was related to the biggest idiot in the seven kingdoms. Aemond peered further out his door and saw Aegon’s shadow dip behind the wall. In his infamous judgmental voice he spoke, “Aegon.” He shook his head and shut the door.

You were wandering the keep in search for the wastrel you married. At this point you were beyond pissed. His brother took the time out of his day to do something nice and Aegon couldn’t be bothered. After all this time you assumed he was better. Obviously, he was the same ass you married.

Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk watched you from the corner, hidden by the darkness. They gave each other nervous glances before they pounced. Neither understood what exactly they were doing but it was a demand. God, the Targaryens were so odd.

A bag went over your head, and everything went dark. Before you could scream a hand was placed over your mouth. The adrenaline kicked in at an unpresented rate and you flailing your arms and kicking your legs in every direction. Of course, you were being taken prisoner today. You couldn’t be blessed with one good fucking day. Another set of arms grabbed your legs, and they began moving in unison.

You didn’t give up on your attacks, but they seemed to be absolutely useless. Underneath the bag you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. This was supposed to be a celebration. Something to look forward to. Instead, you were kidnapped and tied up. Another gift from the gods to keep you down.

Your heart was beating faster and faster as the hands kept carrying you. The air and sounds changed around you changed quickly. You were definitely outside near the city because the scent of cow shit filled your nose. Next you could hear the sounds of peasants going about their daily lives. Was this how you die?

After what seemed like a century you were gently placed on your feet. The sound of boots clomping on the dirt made you freeze. You heard three sets of men speaking in low tones. One was a man with a deep baritone voice. He spoke with a hint of anger and frustration. “I’m really sorry, princess.”

You knew that voice. Before you could turn around and demand answers your hood was ripped off and you were shoved into a building. The door quickly shut behind you and you fell to the ground.

“Happy Valentines Day, My love.” You peered up at your husband standing over you with a smug look. You quickly rose to your feet and took in your surroundings. The room was decorated nicely with a table for two in the center. There was food laid out and what seemed like… presents in the center. The floor was decorated with roses as was the bed in the corner of the room. A giant window facing the sea shone brightly. The sunset was undeniably beautiful.

“Aegon. What the fuck was that?” He scurried over and grabbed your hands. “I wanted to surprise you!” You furrowed your eyebrows and your mouth hung agape. “Surprise me? Why would you kidnap me and tie me up?” Your eyes widened as he pulled you close and kissed you. “I didn’t know how else to be discreet.” You were still high on adrenaline, but you had to admit it was a nice surprise. “You remembered?”

“Of course, I remembered. I only acted like I didn’t so you would have no clue what I had planned.” He was lying but you would never be able to tell. After he got over raging about Aemond’s gift he decided to go a step further. He found an inn with a perfect view of the ocean and sunset which you loved. Then he had them prepare all of your favorite foods… He had to ask Helaena what they were but that’s beside the point. Aegon even went out of his way to tear apart the roses he got you to use as decoration. Truly, he completely outdid himself and he couldn’t hide the smugness on his face. Although maybe the kidnapping was a bit much, but he didn’t realize they were going to tie you up and drag you here.

“I didn’t realize you were capable of being this thoughtful.” You glanced around the room and your anger slowly disappeared. Of course, he could have just taken you outside like normal, but he went about about things in odd ways sometimes. You let out a giggle as you looked at the gifts. Each one was wrapped up in a different color of red. “I made them prepare your favorites. Only the best for my wife.” You smiled genuinely as he led you over to the table.

Aegon pulled out your chair and pushed you back in. He poured a glass of wine for himself and then one for you. You nearly chuckled at the sudden gentleman act he was putting on. “A toast, to us and our love.” He spoke and raised his glass. You followed suit and drank the red liquid. It was sweet and fruity and not too strong. Perfect for your taste buds. He even remembered you preferred sweet wine over bitter. “To us and our love.” You echoed him.

The rest of the dinner passed by peacefully. You enjoyed your meal and the company of your husband. It felt good to celebrate Valentines Day with someone who cared so much about you. As the sun began its descent over the horizon, he pushed the gifts towards you and impatiently waited for you to open them. He was extremely fucking proud of himself for pulling this all off. You unwrapped the five boxes of candies first and laughed. “Are you trying to fatten me up for winter?” You teased.

“I wanted to give you an array of options.” He said with a grin. You broke off a piece of one and ate it. It tasted like chocolate but there was also a distinct citrus flavor that stood out. These were definitely from Essos… which were the most expensive kind. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face when you finished.

The gold box with the red ribbon. His eyes lit up as you opened it. Inside was a dress. A dark black gown made from silk. It was decorated with red and gold which were his houses colors. On top was a black necklace with a dragon dangling at the center. “It’s Valyrian steel… It’s like a piece of me is always with you.”

Your eyes widened and you stared at the necklace. You picked it up and admired it. The dragon was beautiful, and it was crafted with such detail. It was the most precious thing you owned now. “Thank you so much, baby.” You stood up and walked over to him. You took your seat on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tight.

“I know I don’t deserve you, but I will do everything I can to make you happy.” Your eyes almost began to water out of joy, and you pressed a deep kiss to his lips. “You’re the best husband I could have asked for.”

He nuzzled your neck and his hand wandered down your body. It wasn’t long before you were undressed and making use of the bed. He deserved some reward for everything he did tonight. He was so generous, thoughtful, and loving. You couldn't help but fall more in love with him every day.

You quickly pushed him off and climbed on top to straddle him. You pressed your lips roughly into his own. Aegon ran his hands under your dress and squeezed your ass. You moaned into his mouth as you grinded against his cock. You slowly slid yourself down along his hardness.

Aegon’s breathing grew heavier until he grabbed your hips and held onto them tightly. You let out a gasp as he filled you completely. His cock was average in length but thick as hell. You both moved together perfectly as you rocked your hips. “I love you,” you whispered breathlessly.

“And I love you, my queen.” Aegon growled as you leaned forward and bit his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. He picked up his speed and began thrusting himself inside of you vigorously. Your moans were muffled in his shoulders, He slid his hand under you and rubbed your clit while still pounding away.

His pace quickened and soon your cunt was clenching around his cock. He was close too; you could tell by how fast his strokes became erratic. Aegon’s cock repeatedly pounded into your sweet spot, and you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your orgasm washed over you and sent a wave of pleasure through your body.

Aegon’s smile grew wide as he watched you come undone on top of him. A pleasant reward for all the trouble he went through today. He sat up in the bed, so you were still straddling him. You grabbed his arms and removed them from your hips, it was your turn to make him feel good. Your movements started slowing but the small whines that came from his mouth encouragement you needed to pick up your pace. You bounced on his cock while he did his best to suck your nipples in between moans.

Aegon spilt his seed inside you for the first time, but it was far from the last. You spent the entire night in bed with him, only taking short breaks to regain your energy.

The fruits of his labor that day paid off nine months later when a baby boy came. Your very own Valentine’s Day baby… truly a better gift than anyone could ever give you.

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