#daeron targaryen x oc

[diamantar]

REINA OSADA

→ Daeron Targaryen x fem!OC [Visenya Targaryen]

✦ Sinopsis: Portando un nombre lleno de historia, Visenya armará su propio mundo junto a la persona indicada.

✦ Advertencias: Incesto / Diferencia de edad / Matrimonio arreglado / ¿Lesiones consensuadas?

✦ Palabras: 1557

✦ Pedido: Si, de Wattpad.

✦ Nota: ¡Comentarios, likes y reblogs son muy apreciados! ♡

Alicent inspiró profundo y juntó toda voluntad existente para no arrancarse la piel alrededor de las uñas, a paso ansioso recorriendo sus aposentos en una espera insoportable. Demasiados pensamientos la atormentaban y no podía imaginar que el plan ideado no saliera a favor, especialmente cuando le otorgaría poder en varios aspectos.

Ser Criston, que bien sabía lo que sufría, ni siquiera pidió permiso al abrir la puerta y enseñar al tercer hijo de la Reina.

—Aemond, me han dicho que solo Vhagar ha regresado, ¿que sucedió? —preguntó preocupada, ambas pupilas cayendo en la carta sucia y arrugada que cargaba—. ¿Es de Daeron?

—Pide sinceras disculpas por no venir él mismo, pero envía una nota para esclarecer su ausencia.

La Hightower agarró la misiva casi con miedo, durante unos segundos guardando silencio antes de enfocarse en el príncipe.

—Lo viste, ¿verdad? —indagó tragando con dificultad—. ¿Estaba con ella?

—Correcto —asintió, por un segundo amagando a sonreír.

Tan pequeño y veloz gesto paralizó a la mujer, que olvidó pestañear y rápidamente destruyó el sello para leer las palabras del menor.

—Esto es… —dejó los labios separados en incredulidad.

—Lo que deseabas.

Ante la confirmación cerró los ojos y lanzó la cabeza hacia atrás agradeciendo tal fortuna, aliviada prefiriendo sentarse frente al escritorio.

—Un dragón criado entre águilas, es ideal —comentó poniendo una mano en el pecho y sintiendo las pulsaciones regresar a la normalidad—. La hija menor de Aemma nos dará gran ventaja.

—¿Segura de que estará de nuestro lado en las discusiones por la herencia al trono?

—No, pero no se ha criado aquí y no es cercana a Rhaenyra, podemos dirigirla a nosotros

—Recuerda que es conocida por justamente ser alguien difícil de manipular.

—“La reencarnación de Visenya” —suspiró jugando con una pluma sin tinta—. Ciertamente sabían que hacían al nombrarla como la hermana de Aegon el Conquistador, porque nació con el carácter de ella.

—¿Crees poder manejarla? —enarcó una ceja, porque había visto a la mujer y reconocía que era una oponente fuerte.

—Tal vez no, pero Daeron…

—Es inesperado que se conocieran y forjaran tan buena relación.

Alicent asintió y observó el celeste cielo, ausente ordenando la mente antes de hablar.

—Como tu hermano, Visenya fue enviada joven a su segunda casa. Los Arryn estaban encantados de recibir a una de las nietas de su única hija de descendencia Targaryen, especialmente cuando Vermithor la seguiría. Desde joven ha mostrado carácter dominante y una actitud inclinada hacia la batalla… Ha terminado por sí misma decenas de rebeliones y forjó una enorme fortuna a partir de ellas, es el gran orgullo de ambas familias —resumió a punto de negar maravillada—. La opinión publica es increíble, algunos hasta la ven como una reina del pasado que surgió a guiarlos y protegerlos.

—¿Padre aceptará el casamiento cuando podría utilizarla para reforzar lazos? He oído que hay varios interesados.

—Viserys no dudará mientras exista la posibilidad de una reconciliación familiar, celebrará la propuesta —bufó como si aquel fuera el menor de los problemas.

—Al menos no deberás preocuparte por de Daeron, él está sumamente encantado con nuestra hermana.

—Así parece —dijo en volumen bajo y levantando la carta—. Pensar que se conocerían cerca de Antigua para sofocar un batallón de bandidos… Los Dioses están de nuestro lado.

—¿Necesitas más de mí? —preguntó al apreciar que la conversación terminaba.

—No, has hecho bien, descansa que es mi turno de hablar con el Rey.

La mujer inspiró a gusto con el desarrollo de los eventos y por largos segundos disfrutó aquella victoria, con renovada energía agarrando la carta y partiendo hacia su esposo.

El humo escalaba hasta el cielo en torres grises que desde kilómetros anunciaban peligro, los numerosos focos de fuego aún ardiendo entre escombros y cadáveres. La brisa llevaba el aroma a carne quemada hacia la zona contraria al campamento, aunque la única femenina en pie estaba segura que su ejercito ya adivinaba qué había hecho.

Vermithor brillaba ante el reflejo del sol y estiraba las alas en una pose sumamente relajada, la Targaryen quitándose el casco y dejando las mechas ondear en naturaleza. El panorama repleto de cenizas la llenó de orgullo y elevó el mentón en satisfacción, otro grupo de inútiles agregándose a la lista de conquistas. Torció el agarre en la espada que cargaba e inquirió si así fue como se sintió Aegon I, el deseo de sentir tal grandeza y obtener toda tierra posible enviando escalofríos que casi la hicieron jadear.

Un rugido la sacó del ensimismamiento e hizo que sonriera pequeño, de pronto el cielo cubriéndose y sellando en la tierra una forma que bien identificaba. Vermithor observó y rezongó, de manera que ella estiró el cuello y apreció el destellante azul metálico del joven dragón. Conectó breves miradas con el jinete e inclinó la cabeza en desafío, desde el inicio señalando que no se arrepentía de lo cometido.

—¿No pudiste esperar?

El reclamo llegó apenas aterrizó y Visenya enfrentó al atractivo adolescente con una mueca traviesa.

—Adelanté el trabajo —respondió indiferente—. ¿Por qué mover y agotar al resto cuando puedo encargarme sola?

Daeron torció la boca y acortó la distancia quitándose el casco, objeto que tiró a lo que quedaba de pasto.

—Los eventos no siempre saldrán a tu favor, ¡podrías morir!

—Admite que estás enojado porque no te llamé para la diversión —rió sin tomarlo en serio.

Frunciendo el ceño y sosteniéndola del rostro, el aire alrededor del chico cambió.

—Nunca vuelvas a dejarme atrás, pensamos y atacamos juntos, ¿entendido? —ordenó en tono bajo y severo.

—Daeron el Osado es un título apropiado viendo que tienes el atrevimiento de amonestarme —gruñó entre dientes—. Congeniamos y calibramos de manera espectacular, ¿pero piensas que te permitiré controlarme?

—Anhelo cuidar y proteger a mi futura esposa, ¿acaso es una locura lo que pido?

El término empleado la descolocó y provocó que contorsionara el rostro, con labios apretados observándolo como si fuera un desquiciado.

—¿Qué has dicho?

Liberándola despacio, Daeron retrocedió y buscó entre su armadura un papel doblado.

—Es una carta de padre para ambos, pensaba leerla contigo hasta que descubrí que volaste sola a pelear.

Visenya agarró y leyó, progresivamente enseriándose y perdiendo cualquier expresión que señalara lo que pensaba. Rápidamente mojó los labios y le miró, en un puño sosteniendo el decreto y enfrentándolo de una manera casi intimidante.

—¿Qué piensas de esta decisión?

Daeron se arrodilló en una pierna y colocó la mano derecha sobre el corazón.

—Contraer matrimonio contigo será el honor más grande de mi vida.

La mujer desenfundó la espada y lo apuntó, lento y casi sin pestañear admirando como él intentaba descifrar sus próximos movimientos.

—Palabras bonitas no comprarán mi corazón —habló, en el proceso colocando la punta del metal en el centro del cuello.

—Lo sé, pero mi alma se desvive por ti, esa es la única verdad.

Visenya inclinó la cabeza y bajó la mirada a la tierna piel que amenazaba, de pronto rodeándola un aura casi exótica.

—¿Sabes de la tradición valyria o solo conoces la Fe de los Siete?

—Yo… —dudó un momento intentando recordar algo que pudiera haber leído.

—Silencio, el titubeo solo confirma la ignorancia —interrumpió dando un paso más—. Eres joven y tu futuro brilla, pero soy mayor y mi reputación aplasta la que posees. ¿Serás capaz de conquistar el mundo conmigo?

El Targaryen tragó y saltó al sentir como la espada le lastimaba, con el corazón acelerado admirándola desde abajo mientras el viento y el sol la coronaban como la poderosa reina que era.

—Te pertenezco —respiró tembloroso, la tensión provocando cosquillas en su vientre—. Viviremos, amaremos, procrearemos, arrasaremos y construiremos juntos, desde que te conocí no ha existido nadie más que tú.

Visenya inspiró lento y profundo, despacio bajando la espada y yendo a arrodillarse frente a él. Tiró el arma a un costado y colocó ambas manos en el pecho contrario, suave descendiendo hasta encontrar la daga y tomarla en posesión.

—¿Qué…?

—Un pacto de sangre —aclaró mientras le agarraba el mentón y acercaba el filo al labio inferior—. A partir de hoy eres completamente mío, Daeron.

Observándose a los ojos, él apenas se movió cuando ella realizó un pequeño corte. Aguantó el dolor y el ardor para tomar el puñal y entender que era su turno de actuar.

—Visenya… —llamó casi en trance, una neblina mental jamás experimentada llevándolo a sensaciones que hasta ese momento desconocía,

—Estoy aquí —contestó mientras lo abrazaba por la cintura y formaba una sutil mueca cariñosa.

El muchacho respiró pesado y acunó una mejilla antes de cortar la tierna piel, el suspiro que ella liberó sacudiéndolo hasta los huesos. Soltó el arma y sin perder un segundo acortó la distancia, finalmente probando los labios que tantos meses deseó consumir. La Targaryen se entregó al contacto y un gemido quedó ahogado cuando él usó la mano libre para tomarla del cabello, el calor del sol quemando como si estuvieran fundiéndose en fuego.

—¿Me amas como te amo a ti?

—Soy tuya, Daeron, de nadie más —murmuró inclinándose a descansar en uno de sus hombros—. Juntos haremos historia.

Sintiendo que la estrechaba y casi le quitaba el aire, Visenya observó las resplandecientes escamas de Vermithor y tembló de emoción ante la idea de cumplir cada sueño y objetivo al lado del Targaryen.a

#hotd #house of the dragon #la casa del dragón #daeron targaryen #hotd scenario #hotd scenarios #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #hotd oneshots #hotd one shots #hotd oneshot #hotd x oc #daeron targaryen x oc #hotd one shot #daeron targaryen scenarios #daeron targaryen scenario #daeron targaryen imagine #daeron targaryen imagines #daeron targaryen oneshot #daeron targaryen oneshots #hotd oc #hotd original character #aegon x oc #aegon targaryen x oc

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon.

I - Ensnared.

II - Counterblow.

III - Slip Away.

IV - Harmonize.

V - Butterfly.

VI - Wrecked.

VII - Eliminate.

VIII - Relinquish.

IX - Displaced.

X - Longing.

XI - Freedom.

XII - Revelations.

XIII - Tranquility.

XIV - Lingering.

XV - Eternal.

XVI - Hēnkirī hae mēre

XVII - Epilogue

XVIII - Exile (Aemond POV)

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #alicent hightower #otto hightower #criston cole #daeron targaryen #baela targaryen

[eludin]

THE CROWN'S WHORE | CHAPTER TWO

WARNING: sexual content, addictions, incest (we're talking about Targaryens here) grooming, manipulations, dark themes, and possibly more

She trembled at the foot of the bed, and clearly had already been passed between several of her older friends. At least, he prayed that it was her friends who touched her in such a way. They would not be cruel and savage with her. He hoped they wouldn't.

Her hair was messed, no longer the smooth cascade of silvery strands, and some bite marks ran up along the length of her neck.

Ariston painfully swallowed the pit of anxiety. "Are you well, Vyera?"

She shrugged and rubbed her arms.

He closed the distance between them. Her eyes still bore into the creaky floorboards. He rested his hands on her shoulders, inciting a sharp jolt from Vyera. "We do not have "

"Aye, we do." She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. "My worth will be determined by how much I break-in, through all means. Especially with my... capabilities."

Ariston sighed. He did not comprehend much of the workings within the brothel, yet what she said made sense. Within the markets, if a product does not produce much, it will likely be dropped and abandoned to be replaced by a higher sale. As much as it pained him to make such a comparison, Vyera became a product for many cruel individuals to enjoy themselves.

If all of her friends could afford it, they could keep such individuals away from her. Yet... Something whispered doubts in his ear.

Commoners rarely made enough money to afford who sex workers, especially those who work within the Crimson Whores brothel. A vast majority of her companions were commoners. Those who were of a higher class could only spend so many coins on her. They all had duties regrettably to tend to, so they may bear enough coin to shower on her.

"Very well," he said. His heart banged against his stomach like a raging beast. "We can start "

"Now."

This time Ariston flinched.

Vyera grabbed his wrists and dragged him to the bed. He fell onto the bed and let her lead. Ariston was not aware of how the other boys did it, but he let her have control of this at the very least. She smiled at him.

She looked down at his clothes, a silent command. As he began to undress, she slid her dress off to pool at her feet.

Her hands wandered up his arms, along the width of his shoulders, and down his chest, inciting chills and warmth toiled in his stomach. Vyera crawled up the bed to straddle him. She loomed over him and pressed her lips against his.

Disgust looped around his throat like a noose. He could not be actually enjoying this.

Her lips molded around his, her tongue slithered in between and rubbed along his own. Ariston moaned.

Fuck. He was enjoying this.

He was a fucking... He did not even have the words to describe what he was. He was doing the exact thing he feared grown men would enjoy doing with her.

She was a kid, and he was enjoying feeling her hands explore his body the same way an artist would explore their canvas, her tongue massaging his mouth, and her smell... her taste.. her touch... the sounds she made...

Fuck.

Ariston lay dazed beneath her, his mind a fuddled mess.

Vyera nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, curling into herself. He reacted the same way all the other boys did: Half wanting, half repulsed with themselves. They pushed and pulled at her, some bit at her flesh before jerking back in shock with themselves.

She almost pitied them.

They were all young. Some were only thirteen while others were a few years older than that. They certainly had their fun with whores older than themselves, but never have they ever experienced the conflicting emotions warring within them in such intensity. In this, they were fumbling like virgins as she fiddled with them the same way she'd fiddle with a spare pawn in her hand while she played chess with one of her father's coworkers.

He had been... thirty if her memory still served well. She'd been seventeen when they'd met.

He was everything she found attractive in men that she couldn't find in the boys of her old world: Smart, handsome, and strong. He was skilled in his work and smart enough to humor her with their games. Of course, over time their games became less innocent. Her cunt clenched and tingled in recall of their time together.

Sure, he wasn't the only one. She never could settle for one. But regardless of that, he sent a thrill through her bones few could accomplish.

Vyera sighed and held Ariston closer. "Are you alright, Riz?"

"Huh?"

He blinked awake and focused on her. There it was again. The conflict in his eyes.

"You seem..." she hesitated, abusing her lip. His gaze flickered to them and he sharply inhaled. "Off. Did I do something wrong?"

"No! Certainly not, you were incredible Wait, no, I mean " Ariston tripped and stumbled over his words for a quick minute. A devilish grin wished to curl on Vyera's lip but she quickly suppressed it in favor of a more concerned expression. She worked on her reputation for nine years. She wasn't about to let one slip up to ruin everything. She laid back down and hid her face into his neck. They had a few more minutes before he had to leave.

He sighed, patting her head stiffly. "Tis' nothing."

Vyera nearly scoffed at that. As if she was going to believe that. However, she didn't wish to scare off one of her many useful associates. If her plans with her father fall through, she'll need more than one lord to arrange for her escape from the squander of this forsaken brothel. King's Landing smelled as bad as it was written, and her nose likely died in order to tolerate the odor.

If the world thought she was going to remain, they were sorely mistaken.

"Are you sure?"

"Aye," Ariston murmured. "Simply running through my thoughts."

More like running from them.

WANT TO BE TAGGED? COMMENT DOWN BELOW "AYE"

bloodyziggy

thenovelcarnival

sanya-prose

gpr2149

opheliaas-stuff

daughter-of-the-stars11

thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry

hc-geralt-23

aemondsbabygirl

imsirius01

qyburnsghost

fulltacoparadise

mrs-sullys-blog

dudde-44

kimmib13

dornishannie

watercolorskyy

shaylouisesstuff

hiraethrhapsody

xcinnamonmalfoyx

#a song of ice and fire #aemond targaryen x reader #asoiaf #got #hotd #house targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #game of thrones #house of the dragon #pre asoiaf #the dance of the dragons #dance of the dragons #aegon targaryen x reader #daeron targaryen x reader #oc x oc #oc x canon #westeros

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy

Rating: Explicit Chapters: 13/25, part 1 of 3 Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong, Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

READ ON AO3 Series Page on AO3 - Subscribe for ALL updates!

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen- I'll Be a Better Man Jace witnesses a mostly normal family dinner among the Greens. Aegon and Abby choose each other.

“They cheered for us!” Daeron exclaimed. “Tessarion flew across Highgarden and everyone cheered to see us. And I got to see Garmund - he’s a page for Lord Tyrell now, and they left a few days after us. We took the Mander up and I saw Lord Fossoway at Cider Hall, and then Bitterbridge and we got off at Tumbleton and Aemond! We saw Vhagar! She was flying over the Kingswood. ‘Twas brilliant! She scared half the guards with us, since the only dragon they’d ever seen was Tessarion.” The exuberance of his younger brother brought a hint of a smile across Aemond’s scowling face, and his violet gaze shifted from where he watched Jace and Baela to look down the table, leaning closer towards Abrogail who was smiling indulgently as she soaked her bread in the soup. “Did you? She quite enjoys it out there, and roosts in the cliffs. Perhaps she thought Tessarion was a screeching swan.” Helaena giggled and Daeron sputtered in indignation at the tease. Even Otto Hightower looked amused, a strange fondness in his expression while the king was content to enjoy his course, humming occasionally and giving a hint of a smile before drawing Lord Otto into conversation about the Westerlands and the Ironborn. It struck him as odd. Had he not missed Daeron? Was he not interested in the journey from one coast of their land to the other? And all the boy had seen? Daeron was talking about the small villages along the Mander, and how Ser Gwayne had explained the river villages were similar to those of the Riverlands themselves.

@fyeahhotdocs, @ocappreciation, @stannisfactions, @fragilestorm, @starcrossedjedis, @darkwolf76, @arrthurpendragon, @dopedaegus, @hiddenqveendom, @mantillon, @lightofthearrow, @songsonacliffside, @acrossthesestars, @insabecs, @moireia, @dragonsbone, @corporalicent, @jadore-andor, @selfproclaimedunicorn, @gwenllian-in-the-abbey, @notbloodraven, @impales, @arcielee, @thesunfyre4446, @duxbelisarius, @thatmagickjuju, @dream-beyond-the-fantasy, @qyburnsghost, @godswood-girl, @randomdragonfires, @mimikoflamemaker, @murmel-malt, @rainwingmarvel7, @solisarium, @tremendouswolfsaladranch, @theothermaidoftarth, @lullaebies, @julyzaa, @jotterjots

#my fics #house of the dragon #hotd fic #hotd oc #fyeahgot #fyeahhotd #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fic #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon x oc #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #house strong #house strong fic #jacaerys velaryon #fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #this chapter makes me happy #and I'm proud of it #and I just love character development #and Jace is like 'totally gotta keep everyone at the table calm' #meanwhile Helaena and Daeron are the ones actually handling it #when you go to your weird family's house to find out they're not that weird at all

[hyper-somnia]

She’s a bit of a Mary Sue tbh

These are not even half of her titles. Had a lot of fun drawing this (and procrastinating on chapter 2 of my HOTD fanfic (Wattpad)).

#illustration #oc art #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #asoiaf #daemon targeryan #fanfic #got fanfic #helaena targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of dragons #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #Wattpad #otto hightower #viserys targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenicent #daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daeron targaryen #rhaenyra x alicent #team black #team green #lucerys velaryon #jacerys velaryon

[dreamfyre03]

A Dragon's Love

Author's Note: First time posting on tumblr, so please go easy on me, I hope you like this fic<3 Also, this fic is heavily team green, so if that's not your thing, this is a warning.

Trigger Warnings (for this chapter): Brief mentions of violence (tourneys), childbirth, death, I think that's it but if there's more I missed please let me know.

Chapter 1: Born from Tragedy next part

As the sounds of knights riding their horses and lances bashing into shields filled the air, at the great tourney to celebrate the birth of what would hopefully be the son of King Viserys, his wife, Queen Aemma, laid in the childbed, crying out as her body swam in the depths of a pain the gods cruelly decided only women would bear. 

The babe was in breech, and there was very little that could be done. King Viserys was given a choice; cut the babe out of his wife, and gain a possible son, but loose his beloved Aemma, or leave it to the gods to decide. The King chose to play god instead, and gave the order. The Queen caught on to what was happening, and as she was held down by an army of nurses, and her own husband, her lasts words were short, yet so profound they would go on the haunt King Viserys until he too met the stranger; “No.” 

More disappointment was yet to come, for now the Queen was dead, and the boy the King so longed for was in fact not a boy, but a girl, a daughter. A screaming, pink, healthy babe, but she was just a girl. Viserys could hardly look at her, for shame of what he had done. The little girl looked up at her father, who struggled to even look at her, without seeing the face of his now dead wife in hers. 

“And what will she be called, Your Grace?” The Maester cut the silence by asking the King. “Daenys. Princess Daenys Targaryen.” He answered, as he handed off the babe to her nurses, for in his guilt the King could not look at her any longer. 

.

.

.

In a mere matter of months later, the King married the Lady Alicent Hightower, dearest friend and companion to his daughter, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. It was an act the destroyed the once unbreakable friendship between the two girls, and now the young Rhaenyra had yet another reason to loathe her new baby sister; she killed her mother, and consequently, made her lose her best friend. 

Thus, the sweet baby Daenys was left seemingly alone in the world; no mother, a father that couldn’t bear to look at her, and a sister that bore no love for her. Indeed, the gods can be cruel. 

Months after the marriage of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, the Queen was found to be with child, and soon gave the King his much wanted son, and they called him Aegon. Of course, at this point to Viserys, this changed nothing, as he had already named his daughter Rhaenyra as heir. At first many saw it as a temporary action to secure the line of succession, and to disinherit his younger  brother, Prince Daemon. But it was clearly much more than that, and some might say it was his way of righting the wrong he did to the only woman he ever loved, his first wife Aemma, by naming their daughter Rhaenyra the first woman as the heir to the Iron Throne. If only he knew what sorrow that choice would reign upon the House of the Dragon. 

The Princess Rhaenyra soon married Ser Leanor Velaryon, son of Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Time passed and passed, and Rhaenyra never showed a drop of kindness to her little sister, who tried to follow her around as soon as she could walk. The coldness from her sister and the slowly but surely depreciating health of her father saw the Princess Daenys in the care of Queen Alicent. She wasn’t always warm and kind, like many might expect a mother to be, but she grew a special affection for her step daughter. In turn, little Daenys felt the same for her step mother, and, her half siblings. Daenys and Aegon were about the same age, and as they grew, were inseparable. When Helaena came along, and they were about two and one respectively, Aegon cried at the deviation of attention from him to his new sister, but Daenys took to baby Helaena right away. When Prince Aemond was born a year later, Daenys loved her siblings with all her heart, even as the little girl kept longing for the love and acceptance of her older sister. 

.

.

.

Thirteen years later

Daenys sat with her sister Helaena, who was whispering indecipherable words as she allowed the many legged creature to crawl about her hands. Daenys did not care for the many insects her sister seemed to adore so, but she never said anything because she knew there was not much that brought her sister such peace of mind, even if it meant having all sorts of bugs in display containers in their shared rooms. 

She watched as Queen Alicent attempted to lend a comforting touch to her daughter, but Helaena tensed, and it was clear she did not want to be touched, as had been the case since her betrothal to their brother Aegon. Feeling bad for her stepmother, Daenys walked over and said, “Your Grace, perhaps a walk in the fresh air might do Helaena some good?” Alicent looked up affectionately at Daenys and smiled sadly, responding, “Yes, that’s a good idea my dear.” As the two princesses got up to make their way out, the doors burst open and Aemond ran in, straight into his mother’s embrace and he went on angrily, “They gave me a pig!” 

“What?” Alicent asked as she tried to calm down her son. “They gave me a pig to ride!” He yelled, shaking with anger. Daenys did not hear the words of comfort whispered by his mother, but did hear Helaena whisper, “He’ll have to close an eye.” 

Alicent then left, no doubt to reprimand Aegon, and Aemond stalked over to his sisters, and passed them to sit by the window, in a quiet anger. Daenys turned to Helaena, but before she could speak Helaena already knew and whispered, “Go ahead, sister.” Daenys smiled kindly, Helaena always knew what she was thinking. Daenys walked over to where Aemond sat and joined him quietly, and asked, “Are you alright?” 

“They gave me a pig, Aegon and those bastard Strongs. How is it fair that the bastards have a dragon and I don’t? I’m a true Targaryen, and yet I have no dragon.” He huffed as he looked out the window. Daenys took his hand in hers and said, “Aegon is a fool, and often doesn’t know when enough is enough. I believe you’ll have a dragon on day, Aemond. It’ll be a marvellous dragon, that puts the others to shame.” At this, her brother turned to look at her and asked, “Even Meraxa?” Referring to Daenys’s own dragon, who was incredibly large, larger than Dreamfyre, with beautiful white and red scales. Daenys gave him a smile that put him at ease, and replied, “Hmm, well we shall have to see. I wonder if any dragon can put my Meraxa to shame. But until you claim one that can, you can ride with me on Meraxa any time you want.” 

Aemond smiled slightly and tightened his hand around hers. Later that day, when the sun was setting, Daenys made her way to her older sister’s apartments, to wish her congratulations on the birth of her new babe, Joffery.

She knocked on the door, until she heard her sister’s voice call out, “Enter!” 

Daenys pushed the door open and walked in to the sight of Rhaenyra sitting tiredly on the settee in her rooms, as she rocked baby Joffery.

“Sister, I come to wish you congratulations on the birth of Prince Joffery.” She said, as Rhaenyra barely glanced at her.  “Thank you, Daenys.” Was all she said, and rather coldly at that. But Daenys was used to it. Her sister had never warmed up to her, always seeing Daenys as the one that killed her mother, and ruined her friendship with Alicent, and the years hadn’t softened how she felt about Daenys. Yet, despite the continuing effort she always made with Rhaenyra, she had seemingly already hardened her heart to the younger girl, and had no desire to have any relationship with her. 

“I trust your labours were alright? And little Joffery is well?” She pressed, hoping for something, anything other than the coldness Rhaenyra always gave her, but as always, nothing came. 

“They were alright. Joffery is quite well. Labours can be quite strenuous, as I’m sure you know.” Rhaenyra replied emotionlessly. They both knew she meant it not in the sense that Daenys had birthed children of her own, but that she was the cause of their mother’s untimely death in the childbed. 

Daenys fought the tears that sprung up in her eyes, and simply said, “Indeed. Well, I bid you good day, sister.” As she walked out of the rooms. Rhaenyra hadn’t bothered to even bid her goodbye. Daenys lets her tears begin to fall down her face, and she quietly stifled her sobs as she made her way to the Godswood. She knew that it would be dark soon, and that she should go to her rooms with Helaena, but she preferred to be alone for a moment, if only to shed her tears in peace. 

Once, when she was twelve, she tried to ask Rhaenyra about their mother, which resulted in an awful exchange between the two, which led to Rhaenyra berating her cruelly, and Daenys crying and running to find comfort in the arms of Alicent, which only angered Rhaenyra even more. The memory came back to Daenys as she sat under the Godswood tree, watching the sky turn to night, nothing but the sound of her quiet sobs and sniffles in the air. 

“Daenys?” She heard a familiar voice call out to her. She wiped her tears away quickly and saw Aemond approach. “What’s the matter?” He asked as he sat next to her. She loved her younger brother, although he always put on a tough face, he had a kind heart. While Aegon was loud and boisterous, ever seeking attention, Aemond was always in the shadows, yet he always stood out to her. 

“Nothing, truly.” She replied, sniffling. “Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you can’t  tell me things. It’s alright. You comforted me earlier, I only wish to comfort you now.” He said with a slightly nervous voice. Daenys smiled at him sadly. “I went to see Rhaenyra. I just wanted to congratulate her on the babe.” She told him, and Aemond scoffed, “Ah yes, the newest Strong bastard.” Despite their sister’s cruelty to her, Daenys reprimanded him with a playful touch and said, “She wasn’t too happy to see me. She never is. I suppose I am a fool to keep trying, when I am to blame for our mother’s passing.” 

“You’re not. Rhaenyra is a fool, and you are the best sister ever. But don’t tell Helaena,” he comforted her with a smile, and she giggled. 

“Do not blame yourself. It is not your fault. You didn’t ask to be born, you could not control what happened that day, you were only a babe.” Aemond reassured her, and she chastely kissed him on the forehead and said, “Since when did my little brother become so wise?” Aemond rolled his eyes and said, “I’ll be a man soon, sister. And Daeron is quite younger than me.” Daenys laughed, “True, but Daeron isn’t here is he? So then, I’m afraid you’re  little brother until we see him next.” Aemond shook his head, attempting to hide his smile, as the two siblings sat together, under the Godswood, talking and laughing until they were found and summoned back into the castle once more. 

#aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #the owl house #house of the dragon #hotd #aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #daeron targaryen #aemond smut #original character

[icarusignite]

Before the Sky Falls | Ch.1

A/N: Finally started updating this fic lol. Would love to hear your thoughts <3

Word Count: 4.5K

All chapters: Masterlist

AO3    |    Wattpad  

High Valyrian Words:

kepa = father

ñuha tala = my daughter

The world is brighter than the sun, now that you're here

"Come on, Aemond! We mustn't keep Grandsire waiting! Tonight's story is going to be the most exciting!"

Five-year-old Daenys Velaryon sprinted through the bustling corridors of the Red Keep, her pale hair streaming behind her. Once or twice, she stumbled, tripping over the hem of her nightgown but her hand was clasped firmly in that of her dearest friend, Aemond Targaryen, and he was there to steady her every time. Her other hand clutched a large leather-bound book to her chest, arms almost trembling with the effort as she led the way to her grandfather's chambers for their nightly routine.

Prince Aemond, also a child of five, but with a more reserved demeanour, trailed behind his spirited niece, his steps hesitant.

"Slow down," he scolded, tugging at her hand. "If you trip again, I'll just let you fall this time."

Daenys turned around and stuck out her tongue at him playfully, "You would not!"

"I would!"

"Okay, okay, I'll slow down, but I'm blaming you if Grandsire gets upset that we're late."

"It's not like Father ever gets upset with you anyways," Aemond rolled his eyes, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

As they approached a grand set of ornate double doors, Daenys slowed her pace, casting a quick glance back at Aemond. Sensing his apprehension, she paused, concern filling her bright eyes, watching him carefully as he fidgeted nervously.

"You...you don't have to come if you really don't want to," she mumbled.

"No. It's just. I think I should go see Mother. I promised her I would."

"You don't wanna hear the story?"

"Maybe I'll come another time. Mother's been so busy with Daeron and she's so tired. I don't wanna make her sad by not going."

Daenys' shoulders drooped, disappointment etched across her delicate features. Her small hand slipped out of Aemond's grasp.

"But, I wanted to hear the story with you."

Aemond laughed, reaching out to pinch her cheeks and she scowled as swatted his hand away.

"I told you not to do that!" she pouted.

"Well, I'm older than you so I can do whatever I want!"

"No, you can't! You're only..." she held up her fingers trying to count, "some moons older."

"You don't even know how many," he teased.

"Well, do you?"

"Yeah, but I'm not telling!"

"Bully!"

"See you tomorrow, Daenys," he pinched her again and scampered off down the hallway before she could chase him.

"You better tell the baby I said hello!" she hollered after him before pushing open the heavy doors, revealing the stately room of her grandfather, King Viserys.

The chamber was adorned with rich tapestries, towering bookshelves, and a roaring fire that cast a warm glow across the room. The scent of aged leather and parchment fills the air, creating an atmosphere of wisdom and comfort. His diorama of Old Valyria took up a large chunk of the room, and as always, it took Daenys's breath away with its intricate detail and sheer scale.

The King was seated in his armchair in front of the fire as usual and his face beamed when he saw his granddaughter.

"Ah, my little princess, you've come! And what tale have you brought me tonight?"

Daenys bounded toward him, her book still clutched tightly in her arms, and leaped onto his lap with a contagious giggle. The King's eyes twinkled with tenderness as he enveloped her in a warm embrace. When she handed him the book, his eyebrows arched in surprise as he glanced at the title, The Tale of Aegon the Conqueror.

"We're in the mood for a tale of battles and conquest tonight aren't we?" he mused. "Haven't we read this one before though?"

"Yes! I want to hear it again. Please Grandsire."

"And what do you find so fascinating about this particular story, Daenys?"

"Visenya! She's the best. And she has a sword!" Daenys exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "She's so brave, Grandsire, and I want to be brave too!"

"Ah, so you have a fascination with Visenya and her sword, do you? Well, she was indeed a remarkable warrior. But remember, my dear, bravery comes in many forms. You possess your own unique strengths."

"But I want to be brave with a sword too! Why can't I learn to fight like Visenya?"

The king leaned back, his expression thoughtful as he considered her words, "You know there are other important skills that you can excel at. Knowledge, diplomacy, and the ability to inspire others can be just as powerful, if not more so. You are the heir to the Iron Throne, those talents will serve you better."

"But I want to be strong like Visenya! And Father! I want to protect the realm too!"

"And you will my dear. Strength isn't always measured by the swing of a sword."

"Father said he'd teach me. When I get older. He says I'm too small to wield a sword, which is silly. I am plenty big enough."

King Viserys smiled warmly, "Well I for one am in no hurry to see you grow up, my Daenys. I like you just the way you are. Now let us read."

He kissed her forehead and she nestled closer to him, eager to dive into the tale of Aegon the Conqueror and his fierce sister. As the king began to read, Daenys's imagination soared,

As King Viserys's soothing voice filled the room with tales of battles and conquest, Daenys's imagination transported her to a world where dragons roared across the skies and heroes rose to meet their destinies. She listened intently, her eyes closed, imagining herself as the hero of such a tale. Amid the story, Daenys couldn't help but interrupt her grandfather, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Grandsire, Visenya had her own dragon too right? Like Aegon did?"

"Indeed, Daenys. Visenya, like her brother Aegon, rode a magnificent dragon named Vhagar. Together, they were an unstoppable force, uniting the Seven Kingdoms."

"Aunt Laena rides Vhagar now doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does."

"How wonderful! She must be so strong, just like Visenya. I saw her you know, when she came to visit Mother last year."

King Viserys hummed in acknowledgement, content to just hear her prattle on about the various members of their household and their dragons.

"I wish I could ride a dragon too, Grandsire. Imagine soaring through the clouds, seeing everything from up above," her excited expression dropped. "Father took me once. It was lovely."

The king's gaze softened as he watched his granddaughter, empathizing with her longing for a dragon companion. His thoughts flickered to the old dragon he himself had claimed long ago.

"You know, even Jace's egg hatched, and mine still hasn't."

"My dear, I understand your sadness. Having a dragon bond is indeed a remarkable gift, but it is not something that can be forced or controlled. Dragons choose their riders, just as riders choose their dragons. It is a connection that goes beyond our understanding."

"But why haven't any dragons chosen me, Grandsire? What if I'm not worthy?"

The king gently took her small hand in his, reassuring her with his touch, "Oh, my sweet Daenys, your worthiness is not defined by the presence of a dragon. Dragons are magnificent creatures, but they are not a measure of one's value or greatness. Your worth lies in your heart, your kindness, your strength, and the choices you make."

Daenys nodded, and the king smiled. He reached into the pocket of his robe and drew out a wooden figurine which he handed to her. Her fingers traced the details carved onto the wooden dragon, eyes shining with curiosity.

"What's this, Grandsire?"

"A dragon of your very own. For now at least, until you claim a real one," King Viserys grinned. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, I love it! Thank you!"

"Anything for you."

"Then will you tell me about your dragon? I've heard stories of Balerion the Black Dread, the mightiest dragon of all. Did you really ride him?" Daenys continued.

King Viserys's eyes gleamed with a mixture of fondness and nostalgia as he delved into his memories.

"We did not have much time together, Balerion and I. He died but just a year after I claimed him."

"Did you never claim another dragon, Grandsire?"

"Hmm, I suppose I never cared for it. A Targaryen only ever bonds with one dragon in their lifetime. There was no one else for me besides the Black Dread, and even though he died, that did not change."

Just then, a timid knock sounded at the door. One of Daenys's handmaids peeked her head in after a moment, her voice soft.

"The hour is late, Princess. It is time for bed."

Daenys cast a longing glance toward her grandfather, her eyes filled with reluctance. She didn't want the magical evening to end.

"Do I have to go, Grandsire? Can't I stay a little longer?"

"Fear not, my dear. I will be here tomorrow night. And on that eve, I shall tell you the tale of Daenys the Dreamer, the visionary after whom you were named."

"Truly? There was another Daenys?"

"Indeed, my dear. It is a tale steeped in prophecy, dreams, and the power of foresight. I think you will find it quite fascinating."

Daenys's handmaid stepped forward, her presence a reminder of the passage of time, "Princess, it's time for bed. You may continue your stories tomorrow night."

With a heavy sigh, Daenys allowed King Viserys to set her down on the floor and her spirits were lifted by the promise of another enchanting tale.

"Goodnight Grandsire," she planted a soft kiss on his weathered cheek.

"Sleep well, my brave princess. Dream of the wonders yet to come. And tomorrow night, the story of Daenys the Dreamer we shall unfold."

Once outside the king's doors, Daenys turned to her handmaiden with a pleading look in her eyes, "Edith, may we stop by the gardens for a moment before bed."

"Princess, it is late and the gardens are chilly. You'll catch a cold if you go outside in your nightgown."

"I know but it's important, please. I just need a moment in the gardens. I promise I won't stay out for long."

"Very well. I will accompany you, but we must make it quick, and you mustn't linger."

Daenys nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as they made their way toward the moonlit gardens. The cold night air kissed her cheeks, but she paid it no mind. Her focus was fixed on a single purpose. As they entered the gardens, she moved between the blooming flowers, her small hands carefully plucking blossoms of various hues.

"What on earth are you doing, Princess?" Edith frowned at the sight of Daenys on her hands and knees in the grass.

"These only bloom at night. I wanted to take some to Mother. She's been so tired and grumpy lately. Maybe these will cheer her up."

"And how do you know that these only bloom during the night, Princess?"

"Aemond told me," Daenys returned in a matter-of-fact tone.

"The Prince? He told you?"

"Yes. He knows everything about everything, so he must be right."

Edith chuckled, "I suppose he must then, but we really ought to head back inside."

As Daenys and Edith made their way back through the castle corridors, Daenys suddenly deviated from the usual path. Edith, puzzled by the change in direction, quickened her pace to catch up with the determined princess.

"Where are we going? This isn't the way to your or Princess Rhaenyra's chambers."

Daenys glanced back at Edith, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, as she continued on her determined path, "I have one more stop to make, Edith. It's a secret surprise."

Edith's confusion transformed into curiosity, and she followed Daenys down familiar hallways and staircases until eventually, they arrived at a grand door adorned with ornate carvings. Edith hesitated, unsure if it was appropriate to call upon the Queen at such a late hour, but Daenys, brimming with anticipation, raised her fist to knock.

"Enter!" came a tired voice from inside.

Edith stayed hidden behind the doorway as Daenys made her way into the spacious chambers. Queen Alicent sat by the fireplace, rocking her youngest son as he dozed fitfully, occasionally letting out a whimper. She was startled when she saw Daenys, straightening up.

"Daenys, my dear! What brings you here at this late hour?"

Daenys approached the queen with a shy smile, holding out a small bundle of flowers, "I brought these for you. I thought they might make you not be sad anymore. Aemond said that you were tired."

Alicent threw her second son a curious glance where he was comfortably seated on her bed with a book in his hand, "Oh did he now?"

"Yep!"

Alicent's eyes warmed as she accepted the bouquet from Daenys and ruffled her hair, "Thank you, my sweet."

"May I say hello to the baby?" Daenys peered curiously at the sleeping child in Alicent's arms.

"Be careful not to wake him. It took quite a while to get him to settle down."

Daenys nodded solemnly, pressing a finger to her lips in a silent promise. She shuffled closer to Alicent's chair, eyes roving over Daeron's pale hair and minuscule features.

"He's so so tiny. Just like Jace," she whispered in a hushed tone.

Alicent rubbed an affectionate thumb over the babe's cheek, "I suppose he is."

"Do you think they'll be friends, Queen Alicent? Like you and my mother, and Aemond and I?"

Alicent glanced at Daenys through the corner of her eye, noting her childish hope and naiveté.

"Perhaps," she answered vaguely.

"Goodbye baby Daeron," Daenys mumbled softly before making her way toward the main reason she had come to the Queen's chambers.

Meanwhile, Aemond, who had been sitting in a corner of the room, perked up when Daenys approached him.

"Aemond! Look what I brought you!" she whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" he leaned his head closer to hear her better.

Daenys rolled her eyes as she brought out the carved dragon King Viserys had given to her.

"Look at this, isn't it lovely? Grandsire gave it to me, and I thought you might like to have it."

Aemond's eyes widened in panic, "Wait no. I can't take this. Father gave it to you."

"And now I'm giving it to you. I was feeling sad about not having a dragon and it made me feel better so now I want you to feel better too. Grandsire said that it doesn't matter if your siblings already have dragons. You'll get one soon too!" her voice held a slight lisp as she spoke quickly, tripping over her words slightly.

Aemond shook his head, pushing the figure back into Daenys's hands, making her frown.

"He could've just said that to me himself..." he mumbled under his breath.

"Do you not like it?"

"It's not that."

"Would you take it if it looked prettier?" Daenys reached up to pull her red ribbon out of her hair and tied it into a bow around the dragon's neck. Her hair came tumbling down around her shoulders, some of it falling into her eyes.

A small laugh escaped the young prince as he watched her try to blow it away with pursed lips. He let her press the newly decorated toy into his palms.

"Thank you Daenys."

Daenys poked his cheek, "You don't need to say that to friends silly."

"I told you I'm older than you. I can do anything," he flicked her forehead.

"One day, I'll be older than you!" she huffed.

"Who's the silly one now? You can't ever be older than me."

"I'll find a way!"

"You can't!"

"I'm leaving," Daenys announced. "You're a silly silly pigeon Aemond."

"You can't call me that!"

"Well, I just did."

Daenys grinned at being able to use the newest word she'd learned earlier that day.

"Silly pigeon Aemond," she sang as she waved goodbye to Alicent's amused form.

Daenys's next stop was her mother's chambers, much to Edith's chagrin as she followed the little princess around the dark castle halls.

"Princess, your mother is surely asleep by now. It is late and being with child means that she needs all the rest she can get," Edith cautioned.

Daenys slowed to a halt in front of her door, hesitating, "I won't bother her."

"If she's sleeping, your arrival will wake her up."

"I'll be really quiet. I promise. I'll just take one little look and if she's sleeping, I promise I'll leave."

After Edith's reluctant nod, Daenys cracked her mother's door open ever so slowly and stuck her head just enough to take a look inside. Candlelight spilled out from her mother's chambers, indicating that she was still awake.

"I can see you," Princess Rhaenyra sighed from her place on her bed, hand resting gingerly on her swollen belly, a look of weariness etched on her face. But as soon as Daenys entered the room, her tired eyes lit up with a mixture of love and surprise.

"Daenys, my sweet girl. What brings you here at this hour?"

Daenys rushed to her mother's side, her arms outstretched, flowers in hand, "Mother! I brought you flowers! They're to make you smile."

"Thank you, my little flower, but you're all I need to make me smile."

Daenys clambered onto the bed and nestled herself beside her mother, snuggling against her, seeking the solace of her embrace.

"Mother, can I sleep with you tonight? I miss you, and I want to be close to you."

Edith, ever watchful of Princess Rhaenyra's well-being, stepped into the room, concern evident on her face, "Princess Rhaenyra, you are due soon. We must ensure your comfort and rest."

Daenys's bottom lip trembled, her eyes pleading, "But Edith, I want to spend time with Mother. I promise to be careful. Please, oh please. I promise I won't hurt the new baby."

Rhaenyra observed the exchange, her heart melting at the sight of Daenys's longing. She reached out, pulling Daenys into her embrace. She kissed her forehead and tucked her daughter's face into her neck.

"Edith, thank you for your concern. But I think I'll be fine. Daenys can sleep with me tonight. It will bring us both comfort."

"Very well, Princess Rhaenyra. But please be careful and let me know if you need any assistance during the night," Edith bowed low before closing the shit behind her as she departed.

Daenys's face lit up with joy, her heart dancing with the prospect of spending the night with her mother. She snuggled close, finding comfort in her warmth and the rhythmic beat of her heart.

"Do you want to feel the babe?" Rhaenyra smiled at Daenys, taking her small hand and placing it on her stomach.

There was a slight kick under Daenys's palm and she yanked it away as if burned.

"Does it hurt you?" she frowned. "It feels weird!"

Rhaenyra laughed, "Not so much anymore."

Daenys's frown grew deeper as she wagged a stern finger at her mother's belly, "You better not hurt my mother, or you'll be in big big trouble!"

"Oh Daenys, he's not hurting anyone."

"He? Do I get another brother?"

"Yes, I think so."

"How do you know?"

"A mother's intuition, love."

Daenys was silent for a moment before another question spilled out, "Did I ever kick you?"

Rhaenyra tugged on her ear playfully, "Oh, yes. You were a terrible kicker."

"I hurt you?" Daenys's lips turned down and she threw her arms around her mother, kissing her cheeks fervently. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Mother. I'm so sorry."

"You could never hurt me you sweet thing. Now let us go to bed. Between Jace and the new babe, your brothers seldom let me get a wink of sleep."

In the midst of their peaceful slumber, Daenys was abruptly awoken by her mother's restless movements and grimaces of discomfort. Daenys bolted up in bed, her heart racing as she observed her distress. She gently shook her awake.

"Mother, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Rhaenyra's breathing was laboured as she attempted to sit up and lean against the headboard. The candle had long burnt out, leaving the room in utter darkness and Rhaenyra fumbled with her bedclothes, feeling the trickle of something warm between her legs. The ache in her lower stomach intensified and she let out an agonized groan.

"Mother! Should I call someone? Should I call Edith?"

Rhaenyra, her voice strained, reached out and grasped Daenys's trembling hand, "I need the midwives. Only they can help. Hurry, my love."

Daenys nodded, her eyes filled with determination. She slid out of bed and darted out of the room. She tripped at the door in her haste, her face slamming into one of the chairs nearby. At the sound of the crash, Rhaenyra groaned in pain again.

"Are you alright darling, did you fall?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Daenys scrambled up, shoving the chair out of the way.

She didn't know where to find the midwives so she went to the only other place she could think of, Queen Alicent's chambers. She banged on the door with urgency, and Alicent opened it after a few moments, yawning and rubbing sleep from her eyes. Concern coloured her face as she saw Daenys's distraught form and the blood trickling from her nose.

"Daenys, what's the matter?"

Daenys, barely able to catch her breath, spoke in haste, "Something's wrong with Mother! She's hurt! She said she needs the midwives!"

Alicent's eyes widened as she gathered her robe around herself, "Right. Okay, you stay here, I'll get them."

Within the next few moments, the entire castle had awoken and that is how her father found her, hours later, sitting forlornly in the dimly lit corridor with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her hands were clapped over her ears to muffle out the echoes of her mother's shrieks that reverberated throughout the castle.

"What's wrong, ñuha tala, why are you crying?" Laenor Velaryon crouched down to meet her teary eyes, taking out his handkerchief to dab at her nose delicately.

"Kepa!" she wailed, hiccupping through her tears. "I hurt Mother. She's hurt because of me. Because I didn't listen to Edith!"

"You did not hurt her. You could never hurt anyone. It is just the babe. Babies do a little damage sometimes. It is time for your brother to come into this world, that is all."

"But what if I hurt her, Father? What if I made things worse?"

Laenor swept her into his arms and stood, stroking her hair as he walked toward Rhaenyra's chambers.

"Your mother is going to be just fine, my flower. Let's go check on her shall we, maybe that'll make you feel better, if you see her?"

"Is she okay now?"

"Yes, the most difficult part of it is over. She is just resting now."

"Okay."

Laenor pulled back to examine her face closely and then he tapped her on the nose.

"And why are you bleeding Daenys? How did you get hurt?"

Daenys's face scrunched up once again at the reminder of her fall and she threw her arms around her father tighter, "Kepa! I-I fell and I hit my face on Mother's chair. It-it hurt so much but I was brave and I didn't bother Mother with it."

"Oh, you were so brave. My brave little girl. We'll ask the maesters to get you something for the pain okay?"

"Okay," she sniffed morosely.

Daenys's tears slowed and halted once they entered Rhaenyra's chambers and she saw her mother. Rhaenyra lay in bed, looking weary but radiant, cradling the newborn in her arms. Laenor walked over and deposited Daenys next to her.

"Someone here was very worried about you," he grinned.

"Daenys, my darling, would you like to meet your brother?" Rhaenyra beckoned to her daughter.

"No," Daenys crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, turning her face away. "I don't like the baby. He hurt you!"

Laenor snorted and Rhaenyra smacked his arm with a roll of her eyes.

"My love, I know you're upset with the baby right now, but he didn't mean to cause me pain. It's just a part of how babies come into the world."

"It seems you're quite protective of your mother aren't you fireheart? Your anger towards the baby is quite amusing."

"Do not encourage this behaviour, Laenor!"

Daenys's pout slowly transformed into a hint of a smile. She couldn't resist her father's teasing and giggled despite herself.

"I warned him, Father. Just before we went to sleep earlier, I warned the baby not to hurt Mother."

"Oh did you now?"

"Yes!"

"Well, he is very sorry that he didn't listen. But it would make us so very happy if you greeted him properly. Do you think you can do that?" Laenor pressed the furrow between her eyebrows to smooth it out.

"Okay. But he has to promise to be good to Mother."

"Oh, he'll be lovely. Don't you worry about me, my sweet girl?" Rhaenyra leaned forward slightly to reveal the tiny squirming bundle in her arms.

Daenys's breath caught in her throat, at the sight of his tiny face, still flushed from birth, and it tugged at her heartstrings. She noticed the delicate curve of his lips and the tiny fingers that curled instinctively. As she studied him, an unexpected wave of tenderness washed over Daenys. The anger and resentment she had held began to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of protectiveness.

"What's his name?" she breathed out in wonder.

"Daenys," Rhaenyra smiled. "Meet Lucerys Velaryon."

"Lucerys," Daenys ran a hand atop the smattering of dark brunette curls on his head and grinned. "He looks just like Jace."

"Yes he does," Laenor flicked her forehead. "And he looks like you did too."

Daenys extended a gentle finger to touch Lucerys's tiny hand, her touch as delicate as a butterfly's wing. Even though his eyes remained shut tight, his fist clamped around her finger and she giggled.

"His hands are so pretty Mother. He is so pretty. How can he be so pretty?"

"All babies are beautiful my love."

"No, they're not! Some babies are ugly!"

"Oh really, and how many babies have you seen fireheart?"

"Jace."

"Daenys!" her mother chastised sternly as her father tried to stifle his laughter.

"What?" Daenys protested. "I'm not saying he's ugly. He's lovely now, but when he was born he was all squishy and red like an overripe tomato."

"Daenys!"

"Lucerys is not like that though. He's a pretty baby. But it's okay. No matter what they look like, I'll protect them," she hovered her face right above the baby. "You hear me little Luke. I'm your big sister, Daenys. I promise to protect you and love you just like I do with Jace."

"Anything else you'd like to say?" Laenor raised an amused eyebrow.

"Hmmm. I hope you'll make Mother happy, Luke. And if you cause any more trouble, I'll be there to keep you in line."

Laenor and Rhaenyra exchanged a glance of relief and shared a tender smile at her comical words.

Taglist (comment to be added): @a-mexican-waffle  @bellameshipper 

#Aemond x OC #Aemond x Reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #laenor velaryon #Daemon Targaryen #alicent x rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra x harwin #viserys targaryen #helaena targaryen #Aegon Targaryen #daeron targaryen #house targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond imagine #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #Aegon II Targaryen #house of the dragon headcanon #aemond kinslayer

[piinkyypriincess]

SWEET SUMMER ORANGE

Targaryen Dynasty x Fem!Teen!OC

"Green must find her way to orange, or all is lost. The dragons will dance and die, surrounded by fire and blood.”

Multiple Main Pairings!

Main Focus ~ Fem!OC and Targaryen Dynasty (Yandere, Obsessive, Protective)

Warnings ~ Nostalgia, Heartbreak, Anger, Alicents Person Feelings of Rhaenyra, and Denial.

Spoilers ~ Tons!!

Masterpost ~ Here.

Beta Read/Edited ~ No (No Beta Lmao)

Word Count ~ 2k Words.

Chp Summary ~ Alicent tries to eat lemon cakes on her own to quell her sadness after speaking to her father. Vhagarhā Qo, who perfers oranges, is a child unlike any other the Queen has ever met, but she reminds Alicent of all her children; as if she mourns the idea of who they were and cannot fathom who they are now.

Chp 3 ~ Sweet Orange Tart, Sour Lemon Cake, Bitter Apple Turnover

Alicent had grown to enjoy the smell of lemon cake in her youth.

Now looking down at the sweet treat displayed on top of the serving table, Alicent breathed in the sweet citrus smell and refrained from gagging.

It was too sweet, not enough lemon present; the recipe had changed. Alicent favored granny smith apple turnovers, the bitter apple pleasant to her taste buds.

What followed in the wake of lemon cake at the red keep was what she really enjoyed.

The smell of wooden fire and sweet lemon followed the air wherever Rhaenyra Targaryen walked. None knew that the Princess had a breeze of brimstone on her skin after a day of dragon riding.

Alicent knew as the Princess curled under her arm and in her lap when they were frolicking kids in the Keep.

Meeting Rhaenyra had been the downfall of Alicent's life.

The Princess had involved her deeper into politics by proxy of her company, and Alicent resented the fact the Princess betrayed her trust.

That is why they do not speak, that is why Rhaenyra left Kings Landing to live at Dragonstone with her cowardly ways.

Picking up a lemon cake, she placed it over a small glass serving plate and bit in.

The crunch of the candied lemon on top invited her with a sweet tang; the sweetness being followed by an even sweeter soft cake that had icing dribbled on top.

The lemon cake was sweet by itself naturally. Alicent realized what was off, the candied lemon was too thick with melted sugar and it was canceling the natural sourness.

“They are quite sweet aren't they, Queen Alicent?” Alicent whirls around, her plate still in hand and lemon cake shifting with the haste of Alicent's movements.

The newcomer had a sweet bell-like voice that reminded Alicent of Helaena when she was younger.

The shy kindness is all Aemond – before the incident however. Alicent clears her head of the thoughts.

The Queen's hazel-green eyes first catch the ginger-orange of the girl's hair.

The boldly colored hair is thick like a Velaryon's. The Queen can tell despite the corkscrew curls being slicked back into a neat bun at the back of the girl's head.

Curls spill outside the bun elegantly as there are autumn-colored faux flower hairpins inside of her tresses.

The next thing the Queen notices is an expensive-looking gold circlet that wraps around the child's head.

The design is simple with a small gemstone that rests in the middle of the child's forehead.

A sign of royalty.

Alicent squints her eyes at the gem, the pink teardrop shaped stone glittering in the sunlight.

“Yes, Indeed. And you might be?” Alicent places her plate down on a space the serving table has.

She clasps her hands in front of herself as she takes in the child's brightly colored gown, trying to associate her with a region.

“Princess Vhagarhā Qo, of The Sweet Lotus Vale in Jhala,” The girl bows her head and curtseys to the Queen.

Alicent curtseys back out of respect.

She swallows a bit of her pride.

Alicent Hightower studied like no other within the Keep, always staying up to read her books and retain knowledge.

Alicent shakes away a memory of a blonde that comes to her mind, and covers it up with a tilt of her head.

She'd never heard of the Summers Isles before.

Alicent licks the bottom of her lip quickly as she attempts to store away and make note of the exotic name.

It sounded traditionally Valerian, with a twist of words at the end.

The girl's accent sounded like liquid amber; smooth and sweet as the common tongue escaped her mouth.

“If it pleases you Queen Alicent; you may call me Vhae Summers,” The girl's teeth are an unnaturally blinding white, the viper notices.

Without changing the expression on her face, she scrutinizes the child under her harsh gaze.

The child seemed unnaturally pure, like soft fallen snow that hadn't been stepped on.

Her marmalade colored dress was one of fall, with different brightly colored leaves and flowers stitched into the fine fabric.

Small fake flowers, made up of a sheer material alicent didn't recognize, started from the left side of where her ribs sat to make a sleeve.

The other sleeve was the same way with the sheer fake orange flowers covering her arms but it started from behind her on her back.

The Summers Isle had an elevated taste for fashion beyond anything Alicent had seen or studied.

The child looked truly regal as she stood covered up enough for the fall breeze.

Large golden hooped earrings, thick bangles, chunky rings with colorful gemstones, a gold necklace filled with different cut gems.

Whoever the child was, she came from money beyond Oldtown or the Lannisters.

Alicent quits her staring as she notices the child fiddling with her fingers.

Alicent blinks, rubbing her hands down the sides of her gown.

“Would you like to join me by the weirwood, Princess?” Her hands ball tightly into fists, the words escape her mouth faster than she can think.

She imagined repeating those words to one with silver-white gold hair and deep lilac eyes.

The child has light brown skin, a smooth nutty color with speckles of teak that splattered across her face and hands.

Another happy reaction is pulled from her heart-shaped face, displaying the pink of her gums and joyous smile on her thick lips.

“Of course! I would love to!” The girl's gown flows against the gentle breeze of autumn as she moves to link arms with Alicent.

Alicent blinks again in surprise at the gesture.

She can see a pair of knights at their station start to move before she lifts a hand to beckon them away.

The woman of forty and three shivers at the childish affection, unused to another person initiating wholesome skinship.

Vhae's dress is a long one, the expensive cotton garment brushes the floor with a gentle sway, breathable and moveable.

Swallowing a sigh of anxiousness, Alicent decides to speak first but rethinks her words before she speaks them.

“So Queen Alicent, anything exciting going on in King's Landing this month?” The child's other hand goes to grasp Alicent's hand, free of wounded flesh and cuticles nicely manicured by a servant.

The Summer child's nails are covered in nail varnish, a lively pink, with delicate leaf detailing in multiple different colors.

Alicent thinks to ask the girl of her home country, their fashions quite different from Westeros.

At the darker girl's question, Alicent's mind drifts to the battle of succession that will be held in court soon.

“Well, there is court being held in five days' time. And of course, the ladies of the realm are planning a charity event that will take place here on the twelfth moon,” Alicent's tone is a bore as she recites over the larger events outside of her small council activities.

“Oh, court? How exactly is your court held here? In my country, court is held with the Ladies of Judgement,” Alicent's eyebrows raise as she takes in women having a station of absolute power for themselves.

Clearing her throat she responds to the question diligently, “Here court is held in the Red Keep when lords in higher power petition it so. The King will usually handle such matters but the King is feeling unwell at the moment.”

The girl hums and the pair stop in front of the carved face weirwood.

Breaking away from the Queen's hold that seemingly tightened through their walk, she lifts a hand to the face of the tree hesitantly.

Alicent sees a past memory of Rhaenyra, white long hair staring back at her as she traced the face of the sacred Weirwood.

A flock of servants break her out of her trance as they pass under the open walkway of the gardens.

They bow respectfully with straight faces and go rigid when she lifts her hand for them to stay.

Vhagarhā is circling around the thick white tree, hand tracing the thick bark of the red leafed tree.

The girl has that wide smile again that makes the Green Queen reluctantly grin.

“Fetch us a spread for a picnic,” The Queen demands. She gives the servants a small quirk of a smile as she watches the girl no older than ten and five.

Turning back to the child, she lays backwards with her entire body laying on the lush padded grass. She has no care about her delicate dress getting dirty with Earth.

It reminds her of the young Princess, she reminds her of the young Princess.

Carefree and wild, taking to life like a duck in water or a dragon to fire.

Alicent represses a grimace to give the child a small tight-lipped smile.

Alicents nails start to dig into the flesh of her palms, indenting crescent moons into soft skin.

A hand pulls her out of her thoughts, and she retracts her nails from her flesh.

The Summers Isle child is marveling at the leaves as if it was the first time she's seen them before.

Only then does Alicent notice it.

She casts a glance at the child's eyes and catches a glimpse of purple.

Vhagarhā looks up at Alicent, her irises shining a pale lilac purple, almost white as if she were blind.

Near the child's pupils, a molten orange color swirls against her slitted purple, similar to a beasts.

Alicents eyes go wide, and she squeezes the foreign girl's hand in a panic; accidentally catching her attention.

“Oh, I do hope you guys have orange tarts! They are one of my favorite pastries,” She remarks with a questioning look on her face.

Rocking forward on the tips of her heels excitedly, she averts her gaze to the plethora of servants who lay out a picnic sheet and baskets of food.

The Green Queen goes steady, fear ebbing away from her as she analyzes the child's features once more.

Copper-orange hair with strings of white diamond laced between the curls, a trait of Old Valarian blood.

A button nose, small, but ethnic like a Velaryon's.

Her skin is a shade lighter than Laenors, a red undertone to the brown skin and freckles spread out all over her face.

A oval heart shaped face, similar to a celtigar, but with more fat on her cheeks rather than sharp and hollow.

Lilac swirling eyes with hints of coral and slitted pupils similar to a – Dragon.

Alicent knew nothing of the Summers Isles – but this child was special.

Vhagarhā didn't resemble Rhaenyra, she even didn't look like any Valyrian Alicent had ever seen.

Vhagarhā Qo is positively a stunning child.

One with features she cannot match to any region but of Old Valerian blood beyond the Targaryens.

Alicent wants to rip her hand away, and walk back to her solar but – Vhagarhā gives her a smile that brightens up the Keep, despite the sun out in full effect.

Vhagarhā is not Rhaenyra or one of her brood, she's a foreign child for the Sevens sake.

Vhagarhā was unnaturally stunning, but didnt have the sharp features of a Targaryen besides her eyes.

She was soft, pure.

Even with the eyes of a Dragon hidden within her pupils, her eyes were wide and inviting.

Alicent thought that she would always resent the classic aristocratic look of a Targaryen.

The purple eyes, and majestically stunning features beyond human understanding.

She thought she hated them, but that hate melted into sorrow when she saw her children's faces.

The child's soft way of speaking reminds her of Aemond as a child – sweet and kind before he lost his eye.

Her smile reminds Alicent of Aegon's previous sunny spirit before he drowned in his cups.

Her fascination is a mirror of Helaena as she discovers a new insect; before her nightmares and flinching away.

Alicent cannot even try and sic a trait of Daeron onto the child; she hardly remembers his face before he was whisked away from her to Oldtown.

Alicent didn't know this, but she needed someone to just be around. She was lonely even in the presence of her children – regardless If she made them turn out mad.

She didn't think so though, she was just ensuring their safety.

Any thought of that white haired lier makes Alicents stomach turn sick and her heart pound ferociously.

For the first time in many years, Alicent smiles, huffing out a laugh, “Of course sweetling, we have plenty.”

#hotd fandom #the house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon #obsessive Alicent Hightower #alicent hightower #yandere alicent hightower #fem!poc!oc #rhaenyra x alicent #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #hotd lucerys #aemond x lucerys #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jace x cregan #visenya targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aemond #joffrey velaryon #daeron targaryen #maelor targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #protective Daemon Targaryen #otto hightower #fuck viserys #hotd fanfic #hotd headcanon #helaena targaryen #baela and rhaena

[maidmerrymint]

Reading the best House of the Dragon fanfic AU, where Rhaenyra has only daughters.

No dance of dragons.

#female lucerys velaryon #female jacaerys velaryon #female joffery velaryon #aegon ii targaryen x fem jacaerys velaryon #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x fem lucerys velaryon #daeron targaryen #daeron targaryen x fem joffrey velaryon #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #secret wedding #fanfiction recommendation #No dance of dragons #genderbend #aegon x oc #aemond x oc #daeron x oc #house of the dragon fanfiction #aegon targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aegon targaryen fic #house of the dragon fanfic

[crescenthoax]

a nightmare before Christmas • pt2

🎄or an Annika, Floris, Willa and Targtowers Christmas tale🌟

Part One

Part two

Part three

Summary: Aemond, Daeron, Aegon and Helaena had different things planned for Christmas, but one same fate: their father’s old cabin.

Basically an i’m never gonna love again christmas modern AU because we need to spread some joy on these times and I wanted to write something fun. Mainly centred around Aegon x Female OC.

Part 2/3. Part 3.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

“I can't believe you convinced me to do this,” says Aegon, shaking his head. “I don't need no game nor excuse to get wasted.”

“Oh, come on. We’re all going to play,” Helaena tells him, amused. “Even Aemond.”

It translates easily to: ‘You can't be more boring than him.’

It’s not that Aemond is the boring type, in fact, he's just so reserved and responsible that he's gotten used to having fun in other ways. But everyone has seen him drink whiskey as easily as soda and smile as if he had two hooks on his face and scarlet–flushed cheeks while dancing during Annika's New Year's party on the yacht in 2019.

Everyone sits in a circle around the coffee table in the huge living room. Logan stirs some logs in the fireplace, trying to revive the flames before sitting down between Helaena and Annika on the couch. Aegon is sprawled on one of the individual and comfy, green velveteen chairs, just like Aemond on the other, and Floris sits with Willa and Daeron on the other couch.

“So, does everyone know how this works?” Annika asks, finishing pouring herself a glass of white wine. On the table, there is an exaggerated amount of drinks to choose from. “Someone says something, and if you've done it, you drink. If you haven't, you don't. It's simple.”

“Never have I ever explained a game we all know just to seem smart,” Aegon laughs. “And now you drink.”

She sighs and takes a sip of wine after flipping him off. So much for the ‘truce.’

“Logan, why don't you start? That way, we can get to know you better,” Annika insists.

He feels a bit pressured with the number of new and curious looks around him, but he seems to handle it wonderfully. “Hmm. Never have I ever... been to a party I wasn't invited to.”

“Easy!” Aegon singsongs and drinks from his beer. Daeron, Logan himself, Annika, and Helaena follow suit. Surprisingly to everyone, Floris also drinks, drawing attention. “Are you kidding me?”

“Why do you sound surprised?” She shakes her head, pretending to be offended. “Never have I ever gone skinny dipping.”

“I love the new Floris,” Aegon mocks, drinking. “Singleness agrees with you.”

Everyone drinks this time, except for Annika and Daeron, and she gets some skeptical looks. She puts her feet up on the couch to get more comfortable, her black ballet flats shining even brighter than the Christmas tree. “What? I find it unhygienic.”

“Never have I ever creeped an ex on social media,” Willa dares to say this time. Helaena and she are the only ones who don't drink, and Floris joins them while she shifts uncomfortably, seeing that Aemond does drink.

Aegon sees the opportunity to create a tense moment and seizes it. “Never have I ever lost my virginity to someone in this group.”

“Are you serious?” Helaena sighs.

“Very.”

The only ones who drink are the broken–up couple and the one that sticks together like peaches and cream. Willa takes a long gulp of her fruit cocktail, probably trying to shake off the embarrassment. She has not yet understood that no one really cares.

“Never have I ever had a crush on my siblings’s friends or on my friends's siblings,” Aemond says, accusingly looking at Aegon.

“All hail Cassandra Baratheon,” Annika murmurs before drinking. Daeron and Logan follow her, and so does Aegon, without any problem. Helaena turns her head trying to make sense of the situation, but Annika quickly adds, “Never have I ever been with someone of the same sex.”

She drinks. It doesn't surprise anyone that Aegon also drinks. It surprises everyone that Floris does.

“What!?” Helaena demands, laughing. “When!?”

“Never have I ever had a threesome,” Aemond basically answers for her. Annika chokes on the water she's drinking, and Aegon bursts into laughter when he sees the ex-couple drink, along with Logan and himself.

“Well, I don't have to know everything,” Daeron complains, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He usually is the one who always lags behind when it comes to knowledge about his brothers's lives, and to be honest, sometimes he feels it's better that way.

“Never have I ever broken the law,” Willa says. It's not surprising that everyone drinks this time, except her and Logan. Rich people thing, apparently.

“Never have I ever gotten a piercing,” Logan offers.

Helaena is the only one who drinks, her navel and ears heavily jewelled. And then, Aegon looks at Annika and shakes his head.

“I can't believe it. After all this time, and you still are a fucking cheater,” he addresses her.

“Excuse me?” She chuckles, feigning ignorance.

“You just lied.”

“But she has no piercings,” Floris defends her. Annika tightens the glass in her right hand and shifts uncomfortably on the couch.

“She has her right nipple pierced!” Aegon growls.

“Aegon!” Annika shouts, annoyed. “That's not something yours to share.”

“God, you always do the same thing and cheat on this stupid game. Why did you want to play if you're not going to expose yourself?”

“I don’t need them to know what I have pierced and what I don't. It's not about that,” she grumbles, crossing her arms.

Daeron furrows his brow. “How do you know she has a nipple piercing?”

“And when did you pierce your nipple?” Helaena asks, confused.

Annika bites her lip for a moment, suddenly too aware of the piercing that now seems to be warming up, the sensitive, raw skin against her bra. She was supposed to get both nipples pierced, but she couldn't bear the pain, at least not sober. She would come back someday for the next one, of course.

Aegon had taken her to get it done when she visited him in San Francisco last spring. The last time they saw each other. He promised her it would feel good afterwards. It's not something she has experienced yet.

He notices what the memory does to her. Annika moves again, too uncomfortable under his accusing gaze.

“I saw her naked this afternoon. I found her in the shower when we arrived. It was accidental,” Aegon explains casually. Annika's cheeks flush, yet she's grateful that Aegon thought so quickly to cover his tracks.

Now, that’s kind of a lie.

He had seen her naked since Annika's 20th birthday. She spent some time at the Targaryens’s house in London during lockdown, and there came a moment when they were so bored that one night, after swimming and drinking by the indoor pool, she came out dripping from a dive and went into the changing rooms to dry off. He followed her and didn't say anything; he was so bored that he held her against the wall and ate her out until she cried. He always had a thing for her and knew she was as bored and lonely. That night, she sneaked into his room, and he fucked her until she begged him to stop. Earlier, she had told him not to stop when she asked, so they fucked until he passed, and she had trouble walking the next day.

She had never felt such connection with someone before. They got along so well inside the bedroom that it was almost addictive. When they were alone, they got along even better than they did when they were with the others. And it made sense. It made all the sense in the world for them, but not necessarily for the world.

So when they wanted to have fun, without explanations, they flew to see each other. Or they met in places where they couldn't be found, like the time he fingered her at the Eiffel Tower on a random Thursday night in March.

And no one ever suspected. Until...

“I can't believe you said that,” Annika clicks her tongue. “Okay, if that's how you want to play. Never have I ever used Aemond's toothbrush.”

“You did what?” Aemond grumbles, turning to his brother with unease. “Dude. What the actual fuck?”

“Well, thank you very much, you witch,” Aegon rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his beer. Then he smiles at the blonde sitting across from him and extends his can to her. “Never have I ever used Annika's toothbrush," he says, finishing the can with pride.

“God, you're such a pig!”

“Now I understand why Aegon's room is always a suite,” Daeron mocks, putting an arm around Willa's shoulders and leaning back on the sofa, pulling his girlfriend towards him. “You never used my toothbrush, right?”

“I once used dad's toothbrush to brush Sunfyre's teeth,” Helaena adds, tipsy as she could be. Everyone looks at her strangely, and they burst into laughter instantly. “I was really mad at him.”

“Why?” Willa laughs.

“I really don't remember. It must have been important for me to decide to brush Aegon's dog's teeth with his toothbrush,” she shrugs. Logan looks at her amused and shakes his head.

“It's such a Helaena thing to do,” Floris adds. “Remember the time Annika released Helaena’s spiders in the classroom and told Cressida they were poisonous?”

“Why would you do that?” Willa asks.

“Because I hated that bitch,” she replies simply. “She was sort of like my nemesis. She hated me too.”

“I fucked with her,” Aegon adds, “in her cabin when we went to that horrible camp with our school, during lunchtime.”

Floris grimaces in disgust. “But she was in our cabin.”

“I know. She insisted on doing it on Annika's bed,” he laughs, and her jaw drops. “She got back at you; you have to give her that.”

“And you participated in that?!” She screams. “Aegon, I can't believe you!”

“Oh, don't be so pristine. It was over the sheets. And hey, we could have put your toothbrush in the toilet of public bathrooms, but we didn't,” he replies.

“Okay. Never have I ever done it in someone else's bed,” Logan intervenes, somewhat familiar with the dynamics of distracting Annika and Aegon from tearing each other apart like wild dogs.

Everyone drinks, except Annika. “As I said, it's unhygienic.”

“What do you not find unhygienic?” Daeron teases her. “Okay, I want to know this, and I think it's the moment. Never have I ever been with a teacher.”

“You're still on that? I already told you I didn’t!” Aegon leans in to push his younger brother's arm playfully.

“You were sober when I asked you! I thought you were lying for my sake,” Daeron defends himself, laughter vibrating through the walls. “I had heard the rumours.”

And everyone's laughter accompanies his, except Aemond and Floris, who remain in a creeping silence, looking at each other.

“I mean, it's something he would do,” Helaena shrugs.

“No, I had heard that...-“ He stops speaking, the smile on his face turning from confusion to more confusion than grace when he looks at Aemond in deafening silence, just like Floris by his side. When everyone notices it, the atmosphere seems to dissipate. “I had heard that... Hum, one of my brothers... That...”

Helaena and Annika look at each other. Then Annika looks at Aegon, who keeps his mouth in an ‘O’ shape and remains motionless, trying not to add more fuel to the fire.

“C’mon,” Floris speaks for the first time. She and Aemond exchange glances, and the coffee table is not the only thing separating them because it feels like there are miles between them. Floris's voice is cold, just like her eyes. Annika knows her well enough to know that she's drunk. “Rules are rules. If you've done it, you drink.”

“I don't understand,” Logan murmurs, a bit lost.

“No? Well, let me try again. Never have I ever found my boyfriend fucking one of our high school teachers in my own bed, only to find out they had been screwing behind my back since we were in high school.”

Floris finishes her glass of red wine in three long gulps. Helaena stays silent, her hand resting on her mouth to hide the surprise. Logan and Willa shrink in their places, while Daeron scratches his head uncomfortably, and Annika bites her inside cheek.

Aegon takes a small sip of his drink with a loud noise. “Aemond… This is fucked up. Really, really bad. The kind of thing I would do.”

Floris leaves the empty glass on the table with so much accidental force that it breaks. Helaena startles, and Floris stands up, swaying. “This has been fun. Have a good time.”

She walks away without even looking back at Aemond, leaving everyone too bewildered to react quickly. He sighs, leaves his drink on the table, and tries to stand up.

“Floris, wait...”

“Haven't you done enough?” Annika spits venom, getting up and pushing him back into his seat. No one understands if Aemond doesn't resist her push or if she really used brute strength. Through gritted teeth, she points at him with her index finger. “No. Don’t you even dare.”

It's she who takes light steps and disappears upstairs, following Floris. Aemond shifts uncomfortably.

“I wouldn't do it if I were you,” Aegon warns.

“Man. What the hell?” Daeron sighs, running his hands over his face. “How long has this been going on?”

"I don't know. It happened a couple of times in our graduation year, and then we met each other last year, and... I don't know. It's been...”

“Aemond, right now, no one has a worse opinion of you than I do,” Helaena tells him, placing a hand over her heart. “Who did you screw?”

He puts his hand on the bridge of his nose. “Mrs. Rivers.”

“The health teacher? Seriously?” Aegon jokes.

“And you didn't think, I don't know, to break up with your long term girlfriend before doing it? Or after?” Logan intervenes. Aemond looks at him seriously.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Hey,” Helaena tells him. “He's a friend.”

“He's not my friend,” Aemond hisses. “He's just a stranger who came to our door like a lost puppy.”

Aemond stands up and disappears, not up the stairs but towards the dining room, and Aegon is almost sure he hears him heading to the yard. Surely to smoke a cigarette secretly from all of them because God forbid he lets his friends and family know that he also feels and makes mistakes and drinks and smokes and is not the perfect child everyone thinks.

“Hm, Willa, do you want to eat something? Would you help me clean this up?” Helaena offers to the girl who looks terribly uncomfortable. At the same time, she signals Aegon to check on Aemond.

Aegon shakes his head, and Helaena stiffens her face. She has a look that's too demanding sometimes that reminds him of his mother's, and it gives him chills. It makes him get up from the couch and hit Daeron's shoulder to follow him to the yard.

He obeys, a bit confused. “Where are we going?”

“To see if Aemond is okay.”

“Of course he's okay. He's Aemond. And if we had to be checking if someone is okay, it should be Floris,” he says.

Aegon stops him in his tracks and grabs his shoulders. He looks at his brother, although he's taller than him, he still needs to learn a thing or two. He understands that the age difference between them is enough, but he also understands that Daeron is no longer a child.

“You're a man now, and that means you must learn something about this family. It's a twisted family of fucked–ups, and we screw up every day. I've messed up. Helaena has messed up. Mom and Dad specially, blah, blah. It happens, it's like it's encoded in our DNA. Aemond screws up too, and I'm sure you'll do it someday too. Not necessarily with Willa, it just will happen. And no one understands the feeling better than us,” Aegon explains. “This is what being part of this family is about. And we have an unspoken agreement; no matter what it is, we get through it. We don’t judge. Aemond is our brother, so we are not gonna judge him even though he deserves it.”

“Alright. I understand,” Daeron says and follows his older brother. As they suspected, Aemond is smoking, to the youngest’s impression. “I feel like I don't know you.”

“You don't,” Aemond mutters.

“Are you okay?” Daeron asks, resisting the urge to punch him or roll his eyes. “Why didn't you tell us what happened?”

“Yeah, like I would judge you for it,” Aegon laughs. “I hooked up with mom's pilates instructor while dating Alysanne.”

“Oh my God. I'm not like you, Aegon.”

“Realization sucks, right? It's tough. We've all been there. Fortunately for you, I'm the worst of us,” Aegon laughs. The two youngest ones remain silent, and the sound of crickets is the only thing heard for a moment. “Screw you both. You could try telling me otherwise.”

“Well...” Daeron hisses.

“Fuck you, seriously” Aegon flips them off. “Back to the important stuff. What happened with Floris?”

Aemond gets lost staring at a fixed point on the snow-covered ground, as if he's recalling all the events that led him to do what he did. But he can't. “I don't know,” he confesses sincerely. “I don't...”

“Do you love her?” Daeron asks.

“How could I not love her? She's been with me all my life. And I've been with her all her life. Since we were kids. School, my accident, high school. Birthdays, funerals, parties. She's always been there. We've always been me and her. Just like Helaena and Annika. Or Aegon and… Alcohol.”

“Oh, no. You’re making jokes now?” Daeron panics, and Aegon chuckles. “That doesn't mean you love her. It means you're used to her. And Floris doesn't deserve that. Neither do you.”

“I know she doesn't. She deserves something better,” Aemond says. “And I really care about her, and it hurts to have lost her, and it hurts to think about a life without her.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “She'll always be there. You know, Helaena will never let go of those two girls. They've always been a pain in the ass for us and always will be. That's the fun part of being us.”

Aegon knows they would always be with them because their friendship with Helaena was not going to end. He knows Annika and Helaena would always be friends. But Aegon and Annika wouldn't always be together.

“I guess you're right.”

“Why didn't you invite me to come here with you?” Daeron asks suddenly. “I could have... I don't know. I understand you didn't want to spend Christmas at home, but I didn't think you wouldn't want to spend it with me.”

“Hey, you didn't want to spend it with us either. Otherwise, why did you come here with just your girlfriend?” Aegon questions. “We thought you'd get bored, and honestly... You are still not old enough to enter the casino or drink excessively.”

Daeron rolls his eyes. “You think I don't have a fake ID? I could have come with you.”

“And if you had come, we probably would have avoided this nightmare before Christmas situation,” Aemond says, scratching his good eye. “I don't know, I guess it’s hard for us to think you’re not longer a kid.”

“Sometimes it hurts being left out all the time, you know?”

“Welcome to being a Targaryen in the real world,” Aegon says, patting his shoulder. “You're officially invited to our Christmas getaway in 2024. And this time, it will be just the three of us.”

“No, I think I'll go home for Christmas next year,” Aemond shakes his head. “It's a pain in the ass, but not as much as being here in this situation.”

“I shouldn't have asked about the teacher thing,” Daeron laments.

“You had no idea. I didn't even know either,” Aegon sighs. “Did she tell the girls? Helaena seemed surprised. And I don't think Annika knew either.”

Aemond shrugs. “When it happened, she packed her things and didn't say a word to me. We know Floris; she's quiet, reserved, and she won't show what she doesn’t want you to find out. She wouldn't go with Helaena to tell her that her brother is a liar and a cheater, and she wouldn't tell Annika because she's also my friend. Was. Whatever.”

“I don't think she'll stop talking to you; she'll just give you a hard time. You know Annika,” Daeron reassures. “By the way, is it true about the piercing?”

Aegon smirks. “It's true.”

“Did you see it?” Daeron asks, with a grin.

Aemond smacks him on the back of the head. “Have some respect.”

“Oh, I saw it,” and other things. Daeron wants to ask what he has always wanted to ask, but he bites his tongue, remembering the situation that unfolded because of his questions. Aegon notices and appreciates it. “Well, the party is obviously over. We should eat something and go to bed. If we're lucky, the storm won't be so bad, and you can leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah,” Daeron says, suddenly a bit dejected. He actually wants to stay. “Right. That sounds good.”

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Annika and Floris made no appearance while the rest had dinner watching a horror movie. The girl went downstairs for some food for Floris and then apologized to Willa and Logan for their absence, going back upstairs with her friend immediately.

Aegon drank more beer with dinner, and as soon as they finished eating, Aemond tried to wash some dishes, then went to his room alone without saying a word. Daeron had looked at Logan and Helaena, who were talking and laughing as if nothing had happened, with a strange expression and asked, “Where do you plan on sleeping?”

Helaena pinched his cheek as if he were a little kid. “You are adorable.”

It was her kind way of telling him to fuck off.

And although Daeron invited Willa to swim in the indoor pool, she claimed she wanted to go to bed, too tired to even breathe. If he had to be honest, all the drama had exhausted him too. So, the gang was reduced to Aegon, Helaena, and Logan. Aegon couldn't stand to third wheel with her little sister and a guy who dresses like some dude out of a Netflix Christmas rom–com , so he grabbed some beers and went up to his room with plans to drink until he passed out.

It doesn't happen.

He grunts and gets out of bed, exhausted from trying to sleep. The drunkenness already is part of his natural mental state.

The only lights on the house are the Christmas tree lights tinkling at a strange pace, and besides the muffled music echoing from the pool and the occasional laughter from Helaena, the only thing that can be heard is the squeaking wind. He makes his way to the kitchen feeling utterly cold; the heating in his room was so high that the change is brutal. He's not going to bother looking for the heating controls at this hour, and the fire in the living room fireplace has almost died down.

The refrigerator light beams on Annika's figure. She's sitting on the counter, with a glass of water, a pack of cigarettes, and staring at her dimly lit phone screen. She's wearing a black and pink satin pyjama set, tank top and shorts, and a somewhat warm robe, but she looks frozen. Her hair is wet.

“Late-night swim?” Aegon asks, startling her. “That brings back memories.”

Annika clicks her tongue. “No, I had to shower. Needed to get Floris's vomit off me.”

“Yikes,” he sticks out his tongue. “How's she doing?”

“Well... She... It's going to be tough.”

"You didn't know about…?”

She shakes her head, putting her phone aside. “No. She came to our flat one day with suitcases and teary eyes, and there was no need for her to say anything. We assumed that, well, she would tell us in her own time. She just said they wouldn't be coming back together, not like other times, and we figured it must be serious because she flew from Boston to New York,” she explains. “Did you know?”

“No, of course not,” he shakes his head. “Hey, don't give Aemond a hard time.”

“I couldn't care less about Aemond.”

“Did she fall asleep?”

“Passed out from crying too much, rather. I can't believe he did this to her. I mean... Ugh. It's something we might have expected from you, certainly not from him.”

“Oh, well,” he shrugs as he takes a seat on the bureau next to her. “I know my limitations, believe it or not. For starters, I would never be in such a closed relationship for so many years. They were in a cage, both of them.”

Annika rolls her eyes. “Can you believe they had a threesome?”

“I know, right?” Aegon laughs, and she joins in. “The kind of stuff I'd expect from you. Trying to revive a relationship that's clearly dead by adding a third party.”

She laughs. “Sounds like something I would do. You know how much I tend to cling to things even when the odds aren't in my favour.”

Aegon sighs. “So...”

“So...?”

“Can I see it?” Aegon suddenly asks, and Annika looks at him confused. “Your piercing.”

“I thought you said you saw it in the shower,” she says, placing the glass of water on the marble table. It makes a noise that feels louder than it actually is, and she squirms uncomfortably at the thought that someone might have heard it and finds them there, alone, together.

For someone who claims to be a loner, Aegon has a constant need for attention and contact, especially if it's from Annika. It's nothing new; he used to pull her braids when they were kids to attract her attention. Now he begs her to let him see her boobs. Normal.

He smiles. “I didn't. Everything was full of steam and foggy.”

“But you saw it. You were there when I got it done,” Annika reminds him, embarrassed. “You gave me the little piece of chocolate when my blood pressure dropped. You put a can of Coke on the back of my neck and helped me button my blouse.”

“First of all, it was Dr. Pepper. And second, it doesn't count because I didn't see it properly. And you left before we could do anything...” He shrugs. Annika squints her eyes. “I want to see it. Please.”

“You exposed me in front of everyone and almost got us caught. Why would I show it to you?”

“Because you're good at giving me what I want,” he says, devilishly smiling as he leans toward her.

“And what about what I want, huh? Not everyone can have what they want. I want a unicorn, for example.”

“I'll buy you a horse and pay to have a surgical pink horn put on it. Damn, I'd pay to have wings attached and teach it to fly if you want a freaking rainbow pegasus,” he roars, his voice deep.

Annika laughs and lowers the strap of her satin pajamas so Aegon can see. Not sure why she does it, but Annika loves to give him what he begs for. He doesn't ask for permission to stroke the side of her breast with his thumb, right at the curve. He moves her wet hair back and sighs as he feels the goosebumps on her skin.

“I like it. Although sometimes I catch it with the towel, and it's a little annoying,” she tries to ignore the fact that he's touching her after months and that when he touches her, her skin turns scarlet, just like everything around her. She looks up to find his gaze. “You were right, anyway.”

Annika never knew how, but it was he who had convinced her to get them because she was so sensitive in that area. Maybe she just wanted to please him, or maybe he knew that Aegon, even if he didn't admit it, knew her very well. He always knew better when it came to her.

“Have you tried it?” He asks.

“No, not really. I'm afraid it might still get infected. Besides...” She paraphrases, and Aegon lightly strokes the surface of her skin with his fingers. Another shiver runs through her, and she falls silent. “We shouldn't.”

“It's Christmas Eve. We're both alone...” He suggests, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “I know you don't like being alone on holidays. You always have someone to warm your bed. And your options here are quite limited.”

“You're alone because you want to be alone,” Annika tells him, letting out a sigh. “I might have left, Aegon, but you let me go.”

“And you never tried hard enough either,” Aegon retorts. He pushes her swiftly, standing up and cornering her against the kitchen counter, slipping between her legs hanging from the high stool and placing his arms on the counter on either side of her body. Their breaths mix. “Please, let me do it.”

“I mourned you, Aegon,” Annika reminds him. “It hurt, what you did. How you laughed when that woman at the store mistook us for a couple. How you looked me in the eyes and said that what we had was all in my head. It was humiliating. That's why I left, because you hurt me. And after all that, you blame me for not reaching out for you? How can you say that?”

“I would have hurt you worse if you hadn't left, and you know it,” he says. He doesn't ask for permission either when he delicately strokes the tip of the jewelled nipple with care, and Annika hisses, hypersensitive as ever, melting in his hands. He smiles. “There it is. That’s my sweet girl. My favourite girl.”

She doesn't say anything and covers her mouth when he leans and catches her nipple between his teeth carefully. He knows how she likes it best, and the taste of the soft flesh mixed with the metallic aftertaste it’s exceedingly erotic. It's so intense that she has to close her legs together immediately as she feels that tingling sensation, although his body doesn't allow it. The way she feels stimulated inside and out is almost unbearable, and she unconsciously puts her hand through her shorts because she knows Aegon will spend a while playing with her before even doing anything.

When she tries to ease that discomfort, Aegon grabs her wrist and removes her hand from her shorts. She shivers when she loses contact, but he brings her fingers to his mouth to suck them clean, and Annika breathes heavily.

“Please,” she implores, grabbing him by the neck. He knows she's not asking him to fuck her exactly; she's asking for more. She tiptoes, grabs his cheeks, and tries to make him look into her eyes. “Aegon, please.”

He grunts with difficulty. He shoves his hand inside her shorts, pulls her underwear to a side and, without warning, shoves two fingers in; she's so wet that it offers no resistance.

“Isn't this enough?” He asks, moving the way he knows she likes. Annika opens her mouth and moans against his lips, and through the refrigerator light, he sees her wet eyes and a tear sliding down her cheek. “Why isn't this enough, huh?”

Why am I not enough for you? If I were, maybe we could be.

“I want...”

“No,” he hisses to silence her and prevent her from finishing that sentence. “You want to come on my fingers, that's all. You want my body. And I want yours. That's it.”

No, it's not.

She shakes her head. He doesn't stop, feeling Annika's heart beating against his own chest and how she tightens around his fingers as she struggles to stay still and not make any loud noises.

“I want you,” she tells him, quickly and muffled in a moan, against his lips when she orgasms. Aegon kisses her and swallows the pathetic declaration she utters, holding her with the other hand to feel her close before she goes away forever, but she seems to read his mind. “It's me, Aegon. Me. I'm not going to leave, and I want you. And I want everything from you.”

He wishes he could say yes to her, but he doesn't. He can't do that to Helaena, no matter how much he desires the same. He has to sort out his life first. He's not going to stop drinking. He can't see himself working in his father's company, marrying her, having children. He can't see himself disappointing her over and over when he turns out not to be what she wants.

She wasn't raised for the conventional either. She also has an intense fear of abandonment that would make her do anything for him to stay. This ends in two ways; either she leaves when she realizes she made a mistake and hates herself for letting herself be hurt by him, or she becomes an unknown version that assembles and disassembles for his entertainment.

In both scenarios, he loses her. Physically and emotionally. Two sides of the same coin.

Aemond couldn't stand a relationship of so many years and cheated on Floris. Aemond. The perfect son, Aemond. The perfect boyfriend, Aemond. The gentleman who would propose as soon as he graduated from college, buy an apartment, provide for his family, and have Alicent's first grandchildren...

“Say something,” Annika begs him, pulling him out of the thoughts that have fallen one after the other like a row of dominoes. She clings to him while with the other hand she runs it over his bare torso. He hasn't realized that he no longer feels cold. “Aegon. Anything. Anything, please.”

He can't.

“This is who I am. This is what I can offer you.”

“I'm not a child anymore. I don't want to fly to another country to see each other in secret and act like a couple for two weeks just for you to discard me like trash and go fuck someone else when you’re bored of me.”

He’s never bored of her, though. He just drinks her away. Smokes her away. Fucks her away.

And he knows it's been enough when she sobs.

He puts his hands over hers and separates her from his body. Now he feels the cold of Aspen again. If there was mistletoe above their heads, it's most likely withered. He gives her a kiss on the forehead and wipes away the tears falling down her cheeks.

“I'll leave my door open,” he warns her as he walks toward his room without looking back. But he knows it's useless; Annika won't come.

He leaves her crying in the kitchen, silently, on Christmas Eve. Because that's the kind of person he is. Annika knows. She has always known. She has seen the girls crying in the kitchen before; this time is no different. She has seen the girlfriends he brought on family trips. How he runs them dry. How he breaks their souls.

But Aegon knows that Annika is not like them. He knows that Annika means much more than anyone else. And he knows he can't. He would feel like a bird trapped in a box. He would make her miserable...

He promised to her mother he wouldn’t.

And he knows she deserves something better.

“At least admit it,” she asks him, from the other end of the kitchen when he's about to cross the door. He doesn't turn to look at her. “At least admit that it was real.”

But he leaves nonetheless.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Freya died when Annika was fifteen, and Aegon seventeen. She had been diagnosed with one of those strange and lethal diseases a few months earlier. Aegon couldn't remember the name, but they had told him. He still doesn't know why to this day.

Perhaps because he was the eldest. Because Alicent had pushed him out first, a measly two years before Helaena, and two measly years before Freya gave birth to her daughter. Annika only found out about her mother's illness a month before she passed away. And when it started to get ugly, her parents sent her away. She couldn't be with her when she died, couldn't say goodbye, couldn't ever come to terms with it...

And she never found out that Aegon knew all along.

Alicent had always told him that he had to take care of his younger siblings and, by extension, Annika, who seemed more like a sister to Helaena than he ever was. Annika wiped Helaena’s tears and Annika fought Helaena’s bullies and even Aemond’s at times. Freya said that Annika could take care of herself, but she wouldn't object to having Aegon around. At times, Aegon might have felt that Freya was the only person who still saw him as the golden child and not as the boy who fucked up everything he touched. Freya would entrust Aegon with her most precious possession without a second thought.

But one day, on one of those days when she was pretending to be okay for her daughter's sake, she saw Aegon drinking his third glass of the evening and shook her head. She put a hand on his shoulder and sighed. “I'm not going to ask you to take care of her once I’m gone; it's not your responsibility. But it would hurt me a lot if you were the one who ends up hurting her.”

Two years later, he went off to college and said he wanted nothing to do with that damn debutante ball, but he made the damn mistake of attending anyway.

The rest is a story not fit for Christmas.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

The holidays should be a time of love and peace, and yet, in the Targaryen Aspen retreat cabin, the only festive thing is the fact the atmosphere is as bitter as the mistletoe. Helaena, Logan, and Willa, the designated cooks and the only ones who seem to know how to use the stove and microwave, are the ones preparing breakfast. Floris sits on the windowsill, watching as the snow falls heavily and sticking to the ground outside. The noise of the television and the crackling fire is all that can be heard.

Aemond and Daeron play a game of express chess after setting things on the coffee table for breakfast. Aegon watches them while smoking a cigarette inside, much to Helaena's dismay, as he has no desire to step onto the icy exterior.

Annika is the last to appear, wearing those ridiculous fur boots and a pink Chanel sweater with a Camellia logo. Her steps and the sound of the two huge suitcases being dragged down the stairs make everyone look towards the staircase, desperate for someone to break the ice. She shrinks under the attention, very uncharacteristic of her, and Aegon sees Helaena and Floris exchange worried glances.

“What are you doing?” She asks, watching them prepare pancakes for breakfast.

“Breakfast,” Willa says. “Do you want coffee?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don't want coffee. I want to leave. The night has passed. I thought everyone would be ready to leave. Usually, I'm always the last to be ready.”

“You can't leave. The roads are filled with snow that probably no one will clear until after Christmas. There was a storm last night. It's not safe,” Logan reminds her, pointing to the TV where the weatherman urges residents and visitors to stay indoors until further notice. “Even if you could cross the road, there are no flights available.”

Annika smiles and takes off the sunglasses she was wearing. “No, I'll ask my dad to send his pilot, duh. I'm not taking any commercial flights. I wanted to ski for Christmas, and that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to the nearest place with snow and a sauna.”

Daeron and Aemond look at each other, aware that the unpleasant part of Annika is speaking. Something is wrong.

“Well, I don't want to leave. We're here already, we can make it worthwhile,” Hel tells her. Annika rolls her eyes.

“Fine, you stay. Floris?”

She opens her mouth and sighs. “It's not that I want to stay, but flying in these conditions... I don't know. It's only two more days. Maybe even tomorrow we can leave. I'm not going to risk it.”

“Great. I guess it's just me,” Annika grumbles, grabbing her suitcases. “Well, have fun, I suppose. Au revoir. Arrivederci. Goodbye. Chau.”

“I'll go,” Floris says, resigned, and walks behind her. Daeron does the same, and Aegon follows them out of pure curiosity. “Annika, you can't leave!”

“She's right, it's not safe!” Daeron shouts from the door. She has started to drag her suitcases down the stairs with difficulty, the stupid boots slipping on the ice. The car is covered in snow, and it will take her a while to clear it, not to mention that the snow keeps falling.

“Watch me!” She says, reaching the bottom of the stairs with the first suitcase. She holds onto the railing and makes the ascent again, slipping several times. Then she grabs the other suitcase.

“At least let me help you,” Daeron offers. He shakes off the cold and takes Annika's suitcase. She struggles for a moment, insisting she can do it, but he prevails and lifts it.

“Be careful,” Floris says, putting a hand to her mouth. “Annika, would you call when...?”

“Fuck!” Annika yells when she slips down the stairs. Aegon sees her lose balance and fall to her ass, hitting herself several times before reaching the stone path.

If he weren't concerned because he heard her hit her head against a step, he definitely would have burst into laughter. Floris also screams, shocked, and Daeron drops the suitcase in the snow to rush to help her.

“Annika!”

“Daeron, don't throw my suitcase in the damn snow!” She reproaches him, holding her head with one hand.

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Aegon deduces, descending the porch steps carefully. Annika doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

“What happened?” Helaena asks, coming out with the rest through the front door. “Oh, God. Are you alright?”

“I'm fine. I tripped,” she admits, defeated. Daeron and Floris take one of each arm and help her to her feet. When she stands and puts her weight on her feet, she begins to whimper in pain and holds onto both. “Ouch, ouch!”

“What's happening?” Daeron asks.

“My ankle!” She complains. “It hurts, hurts! Oh, God. What if it’s broken? What if I can't walk ever again?”

“Calm down. I don't think it's broken; if it were, you'd be crying,” Logan tells her, quickly descending the stairs. He replaces Floris' grip on one side of her body. “Can you put weight on it?”

“No, it hurts like a son of a bitch. Shit,” Annika moans, and Logan lifts her into his arms to take her back into the house. “Daeron! Bring my suitcases!”

He sighs but obeys. The last thing he wants is to bother her more than she already seems. Everyone enters behind Logan, and he takes her to the living room while Floris cleans the melting snowflakes from her hair.

Logan leaves her on the couch and sits in front of her on the coffee table, resting her foot on his lap. Without asking for permission, he tries to untie the boot, but he doesn't understand much about its operation. He tries to remove it with pressure, but she screams and writhes in pain.

“No, no! Don't do that!” She scolds him. “Damn it. I can't believe it.”

“I don't want to say I told you so, but I told you so,” Floris says, arms crossed. “Those boots are the death of you.”

“Maybe we just need to cut the boot off,” suggests Aemond.

Annika throws a cushion at him for the brutal idea.

“Not the Moschino. No!”

“It's probably just a sprain. But either we cut it off, or I could still trying to take it off and hurt you even more,” Logan tells her.

“I would sacrifice the boot,” Helaena tries to reason. “We can get another pair. You can't get another foot; that's for sure.”

“Kill me. Kill me now,” she says, bringing a cushion to her face and screaming into it. “Fine. Cut them. Kill them. Just do it quickly. I don't want to see.”

Helaena squeezes her shoulder, standing behind the sofa where Annika has put her head on the backrest and taken the cushion to her face. Willa hands Logan a knife, who puts it through the boot and tries to cut the material with considerable difficulty while Annika whimpers. If one were to see the scene from a distance, they would probably think they were cutting off her foot.

When he removes the boot and the thermal sock, everyone analyses the extremely swollen ankle with disgust.

“Is it bad?” She asks, removing the cushion from her face but not daring to speak. Aegon puts it back on her face, wrinkling his nose, but she hits him. “Don't touch me. Logan. Is it really bad?”

“Well...”

She opens her eyes wide. “Oh, my God!”

“Hey, don't worry,” he tries to calm her, patting her knee gently when she starts to cry. “You'll be fine. Painkillers, rest, and lots of ice. Everything will be fine; you'll be walking in—“

“Give it to me,” she reaches out her arms.

“What?” Logan asks, confused.

Aemond lightly hits his arm. “She means the boot.”

“The... The boot?”

Aegon nods. “Yes, she's crying over the boot.”

“It was so beautiful!” She exclaims when Willa hands it to her, and she hugs it with distress. “It's not fair. I bought them on our trip to Milan. They were the last pair. Do you remember, Flo? Do you remember how we were walking, and I saw them in the shop window, and...?”

Logan looks around, not understanding how no one seems surprised or confused by the girl's attitude. It's Daeron who whispers in his ear, “She cries over trivial things to avoid crying about what she really has to cry about. The odds of her being incredibly sore are very high, but she won't admit it.”

“Oh, well,” he scratches his neck, uncomfortable. “Bring her some ice. Try not to put weight on your foot for a while and keep it elevated.”

“Hey, look on the bright side. At least you didn't ruin your cashmere sweater,” Helaena says cheerfully. Willa frowns, observing her pink sweater for a moment.

“I want to go home,” she protests. “Why does everything have to happen to me?”

“It'll be okay. We'll have breakfast so you don't take a painkiller on an empty stomach, and you can try to leave when the swelling goes down,” Logan reassures her, getting up from the table and walking to the kitchen. Then he turns to Floris. “Yeah, she's not going anywhere. Not today, at least.”

Floris bites her lip, a little amused, and shakes her head. “A Christmas Eve to remember,” she says, and then helps everyone set the table for breakfast.

By mid–afternoon, everyone has had a few drinks and taken a dip in the indoor pool. Floris and Aemond maintain an incredibly mature distance, astonishing Aegon as he discusses it with Willa. Daeron seems to have become very friendly with Logan.

Annika didn't want to move, and in a sour mood stayed on the couch watching some stupid Christmas movie.

“They are cute,” Willa says, referring to Helaena and Logan. Her red curls are dripping water, and she holds onto the edge of the pool while sipping a sip of a daiquiri Aegon made for her.

“Whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Don't you like someone making her laugh? Daeron always says she's a pretty lonely person and has a hard time getting along with others.”

“Aren't we all?” He chuckles. “I guess... It's always us who bring our girlfriends home. I mean, if we don't count the little friend Daeron brought home at seven years old who started crying when he showed her Aemond's snake, and his mother picked her up half an hour later, you would officially be the first girl Daeron brought. And Aemond and Floris have been together forever. And I...”

“Bring a different girl to every gathering?” Willa laughs.

“Yeah, as pathetic as that sounds,” he continues. “The point is, Helaena has never brought anyone else but Annika. She's her person. We got so used to it that now it's weird to see her with someone else. I don't think any of us realized that one day we would meet her partner.”

“It's weird. They seem to have that confidence that makes you think they've known each other forever,” she ponders. “Anyway, it's nice that they get along. She can't be with Annika all the time, I think. Eventually, they'll have to find a significant other.”

He dips his head in the pool to avoid hearing the last words and then emerges, leaning his elbows on the pool's edge, rubbing the water off his eyes.

“And that will be a great day for everyone,” he sighs ironically. Willa inspects him carefully. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “I mean... I'm very observant.”

“Yeah, I remember. A very curious little mouse, I told Daeron.”

“When we went to your house in San Francisco, do you remember the day it got really cold, and the airline had lost my luggage?”

“Hm, vaguely.”

“You gave me a sweater to wear while Daeron and I replaced my clothes.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You told me to be careful not to ruin it,” Willa tries to make him remember. “It was a pink cashmere sweater with a Camellia. Like the one Annika's wearing.”

Aegon bites his cheek. He knew he shouldn't lend the clothes Annika had forgotten at his apartment. Man, Annika never lends her clothes. How could he be so stupid?

“Sure... It's… It was mine. We bought it on sale. You know, two for the price of one,” he says, nervously laughing. He’s more worried about Annika finding out he lend her sweater. “It's very soft, much softer than any other fabric. I like wearing it. Yes. And I love pink. I have that sweater at home, and a lot of other pink clothes. I'd show you...”

“Aegon,” she sighs amused. “I'm not going to say anything.”

“You're not going to say anything about what?” He asks, trying not to sound mortified.

“You and Annika,” she murmurs, so only he can hear.

Aegon laughs. “There's no me and Annika.”

“You knew about her piercing, and she looked too worried when you mentioned it, but not surprised. Come on. I think everyone knows; they're just waiting for you two to say it and pretending not to know,” Willa tells him.

“There's nothing to say. It was... Nothing. Just something physical. It didn't mean anything.”

“What didn't mean anything?” Daeron asks, appearing out of nowhere behind Willa and hugging her around the waist. “Is Aegon bothering you?”

“I think I'm bothering him,” she says playfully.

He climbs onto the pool's edge, coming out of the water dripping, and walks to grab a towel without saying a word. After almost completely drying himself, he goes to the living room where Annika watches the Grinch, sitting in the same position they left her, with a blanket over her lap and ice over her head.

“He looks like you,” he tells her, ignoring the fact that he left her crying in the kitchen the night before. He always does that.

“I'm not in the mood,” she says, not moving her eyes from the screen. He peeks behind her and shakes his head to wet her. “Bite me.”

“Aren’t you a delight,” he says, taking a seat next to her. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” she replies, arms crossed and clearly a bit drowsy from the painkillers, without even looking at him.

“I thought we called on a truce.”

“I think we shouldn't talk at all,” she tells him. The indifferent tone stirs something acidic in Aegon's chest, and he squirms with sadness. “Oh, sorry. Was I too harsh?”

“I don't understand why you're angry. I should be angry. You gave me the blue balls. At least you got to finish.”

She looks at him and lets out a laugh. “I can't stand you.”

“Where do you think you're going?” He asks when he sees her trying to get up.

“Far away from you,” she says, being careful not to put weight on her foot. Aegon takes her arm and throws her back on the couch. She lets out a groan and wriggles, trying to escape his grip, but he holds her by the waist and presses her to his chest. “Let me go.”

“There’s something you need to know. Willa knows about us,” he warns, putting his mouth to her ear. She shifts uncomfortably. “It's just a matter of time before everyone finds out.”

“Then you kill her to keep the secret. God forbid someone finds out you touched me, or even looked in my direction.”

“Do you think that's the problem?” He asks, his palm resting on her stomach, lips against her neck. “You think I care if anyone finds out?”

“You made it pretty clear.”

“Do you want me to make you come again in this sofa where anyone could walk in and see us?” He asks, kissing her under the ear as he moves his hand from her navel to her centre. “You might understand that’s not what I’m worrying about, then.”

Annika hits his hand off and lets go of his grip. “No. I want you to leave. I'm serious. I don't want you to talk to me, look at me, or breathe in my direction. I don't want you near.”

He smiles crookedly. “Definitely harsh.”

“Go away. I can't go up the stairs, so I'm asking you to leave.”

She leans back against the backrest and covers herself with the blanket, resting her cheek on her hand. Aegon sighs in defeat. He’s not used to being rejected by her, if she ever got complicated usually some sweet talking and his fingers worked like charm to remedy her.

“Annika...”

“I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses,” she says. “You can take your blue balls and shove them in the snow as far as I’m concerned. And if you feel lonely, you have two hands.”

He looks at his hands.

It would hurt me a lot if you hurt her.

If he stays, he'll hurt her. If he leaves, he'll hurt her.

Freya was wrong. His mother, too. He can’t take care of her.

“Can I stay here and watch the movie at least?” He sighs, noticeably tired. She looks at him sideways and doesn't answer, but gives him a piece of her blanket. He settles a bit closer to her and curls up in his place, feeling a bit cold. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I want you to shut up.”

He nods. “Okay. Deal. I'll shut up.”

But he can't. He glances at her certain times, focused on the movie and looking as unhappy as ever. He clicks his tongue.

“You know...”

“No. I don't want to know.”

“Fine,” he nods again. Moves his leg frantically and manages to keep quiet for two full minutes. “But, if you think about it...”

Annika puts the TV on mute and turns to look at him. He stays silent when those green eyes haunt him. “It was real. It wasn't a waste of time. I wasn't just another one of your girls. It was different. It always has been. You were there, and it was real.”

“Of course, it wasn't a waste of time,” he starts saying. Freya's voice drills into his head. It would hurt me a lot if you hurt her. “And it was real.”

“And why don't you admit it?”

“What do you want me to admit?” He sighs, tired, and rests his cheek on the back of the sofa. Silver hair wets the green fabric, but he doesn't care.

“That you want me.”

“I can show you how hard I am so that –“

“That you love me,” she corrects.

He tries to escape, almost panicked, but she takes his cheeks and forces him to look at her. Her eyes are hypnotic. Her cheeks. Her skin. Her hair. The nose and eyelids reddened from crying so much because of him.

Of course, he does.

She's so close that their lips almost touch. He has leaned over her, because he does love her. Because she's right. And she no longer wants to run away... But he can't say it. However, he finds another way to be honest.

“I knew when your mother got sick,” he says, delicate as if confessing a sin. “I always knew. And she told me I shouldn't take care of you because you could take care of yourself, but that the idea of me hurting you would sadden her. I can’t do that to her.”

She leans back even though he tries to kiss her. She moves back so much that it cuts through his chest.

“What?” She gasps, not understanding. “What... What are you talking about? What does that even mean?”

And there's more. And there's so much you don't know. Because I've loved you since we were kids. Because I've taken care of you since we were kids. You don't have the right to treat me like a villain. I've always taken care of you. This time is no different.

“Aegon,” she calls him, in a sob. But he doesn't react, so she hits him in the chest. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you say something like that? Why would you even –“

“Because it's the truth. You wanted to know the truth. There it is,” he says. “We can't be together, Annika. I've learned to live with that, and you should too.”

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Floris pours herself a glass of water while Aemond looks at her with a dangerously careful gaze. He has always been tough, since they were kids, and it worsened after the incident with his eye. The sapphire only makes him appear tougher, ruthless, even.

But Floris cannot see anything other than his good side. His heart. The way he cares about his family, even Annika, with whom he always had a somewhat distant relationship. He cares.

That's why it was strange when she found him with their professor. It wasn't strange to have packed her things and taken the next flight to move from one state to another in less than six hours though.

He didn't object.

It's the first time they see each other, and there's a lot to say. He sent her things, and everyone moved on. She doesn't know what happened to the apartment or that damn snake of his that wouldn't let her have a puppy because it might eat it.

“Floris,” he finally calls her. She can't look at him. She can't see the person who cares and matters to her, who would never have hurt her. It's a different person standing beside her. “Please, look at me. We need to talk.”

She shakes her head. “We don't need to talk.”

“We need to clear things up.”

She smiles ironically. “What do you want to clarify? You slept with a teacher multiple times over these past few years and brought her to my house, to my bed. Do you have a valid reason? Other than the fact that you obviously no longer love me?”

Aemond weighs it for a moment. And then nods.

“I do love you.”

She laughs. “Sure.”

“You're my best friend. The best I've ever had in my life.”

“And then? Why did you do this to me?” She asks. There's no anger in her tone, as if the anger had dissipated after the exhaustive conversation with Annika, who she covered in snot and vomit. It's curiosity, no more, no less. It's intrigue.

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know I have my issues, but I firmly believe I've never done anything to hurt you. Not intentionally at least. I haven't been a bad girlfriend or a bad friend either. So, I ask you again, if you love me, why did you do this to me?”

“Because I love you,” he nods. “It's easy for me to love you, Flo. It's warm, and you feel like home to me. But I'm not a kid anymore, and neither are you. Adults have to leave their homes to create their own paths.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “I thought we were happy.”

“We were. I am. And I really don't want to lose you... But I cannot keep doing this,” he sighs, and gently takes her hand. “I'm sorry. It was stupid. And I don't think you can forgive me, but...”

“You're right, I can't,” she tells him, sniffing. “You should have told me what you felt when you felt it. You shouldn’t have let me waste all this past years. We could have found a solution; we did when, you know… Or we could have... –“

“Flo, there was nothing else to do. We tried everything,” Aemond tells her, a bit firmer now. “You don't love me in that way either. I know you, and I'm sorry. I've felt this distance between us for a while. You're not happy in Boston. You're happier with Annika and Helaena in New York. You would be happier if you had a dog instead of a snake. You would be happy if you explored a bit of who you are and what you want to be besides me.”

She sobs. “How am I supposed to go on after this?”

Aemond knows she might not, but maybe, after all, it's the only way for her to understand that between them, there's nothing but the love they've outgrown. Childish, puppy love.

“I'm sorry. It was stupid. And I'm not even seeing her. I guess I needed a getaway car, and that's the one I found... I guess you'll have to be the better person here and forgive me. It will take time, but I hope you know that I really mean it when I say I regret what I did to yoy.”

Floris clicks her tongue and rubs her face with her hands. “Well, you never apologized for anything. So I guess you are saying the truth. But it only makes me feel worse because this means you screwed up big time and you’re aware of it.”

He lets out a little laugh and leans in to kiss her on the forehead. “You taught me a lot. More than anyone else in my life. You gave me everything you could, and it's time for both of us to move on with what we taught to each other. When you're ready, when you're at peace... I hope I can be your friend again. Because I can't bear the thought of you not being in my life anymore.”

She understands what he means. Not in a romantic way, but they know each other too well. No one will ever know him so much, and vice versa. No one will ever live what they lived together.

“I’m always gonna love you,” she confesses. Again, not in a romantic way, but there's no need to clarify that.

Aemond tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m always gonna love you, too.”

“I need time. A lot. When I go back to New York, I'm going to transfer a university there. I fell behind a bit, but I'll catch up. I'll go to therapy, and I'll learn to forgive you. But I don't want to see you for a while.”

It hurts him almost as much as the pain that sometimes paralyzes half of his face.

But he knows he deserves it.

“You'll be fine,” he tells her. “You were always… Resilient. More so than me.”

“I know,” Flo smiles. “I’ll be fine. I got my girls with me.”

#aegon ii targaryen #fanfic #hotd #christmas au #aemond targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #team green #aegon targaryen fanfic #Aegon Targaryen smut #im never gonna love again #hotd modern au #daeron targaryen #daeron the daring #helaena targaryen #asoiaf #got #aegon x oc #annika lannister

[lya-dustin]

Shock and Delight

The invention of the printing press brings about the creation of Westeros' first scandal sheet.

How does this affect the debut of Princess Aemma, the elder twin sister of Prince Jacaerys, and Prince Aemond’s desire to never marry?

And most importantly who is the mystery writer behind The Morning Scandal and why is Daeron so invested in discovering their identity?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #shock and delight fic #bridgerton!au #aemond targaryen x ofc #ewan mitchell #aemond x ofc #daeron targaryen x rhaena targaryen #daeron the daring #rhaena of pentos #jacaerys velaryon #jace is laenors son in this one why he is white will be explained #jace x baela #ocappreciationtag

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon XI - Freedom.

Summary:

The Lost dragon finds his way home.

Warning(s): Childbirth, Dragons, Reunion, Fluff, Kissing, Language, Anger, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut - Oral Sex (F Recieving), P in V.

*Features a Time Skip*

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5523

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

As Vaelys cried out in agony, her voice piercing the air with the intensity of her pain, Vermithor, let out a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of Dragonstone. His mighty roar seemed to echo the anguish of his rider, a primal cry that reverberated through the castle walls.

“Aemond” begged Vaelys her voice filled with desperation and longing. She knew he couldn't be with her, not now, not while he was in exile but still, she couldn't help but yearn for his presence, his strength, his love.

Rhaenyra and Helaena exchanged worried glances, their hearts breaking for Vaelys in her moment of need.

“I want AEMOND” screamed Vaelys, as she clutched at the sheets beneath her with white-knuckled fists, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she fought against the agony that threatened to overwhelm her.

The sound of Vermithor's roar filled the birthing chamber, drowning out all other noise with its raw power and intensity. It was a sound born of empathy and solidarity, a testament to the bond that existed between dragon and rider.

Helaena knelt beside Vaelys' bed; her touch gentle as she reached out to grasp her hand. There was a warmth in her eyes, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes more than words ever could. In that moment of shared vulnerability, Helaena offered Vaelys the comfort of her presence, a silent reminder that she was not alone in her struggle.

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra stood on the other side of the bed, taking Vaelys' other hand in hers. Her touch was firm yet gentle, a grounding force amidst the storm of emotions that raged within her daughter's heart.

"You are stronger than you know, my dear," Rhaenyra said, her voice filled with conviction. "It might not seem like it now, but you can do this. You have the strength and the courage to face whatever comes your way."

"Aemond should be here," she sobbed, her words choked with anguish. "I need him-I can't do this without him."

The weight of her longing bore down on her, the absence of her beloved husband a gaping wound in her heart. Each wave of pain only served to amplify her yearning for his presence, for his strength, for his love.

"He should be the one holding my hand” cried Vaelys.

Rhaenyra clasped her daughter’s hand tighter, but her gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the confines of the birthing chamber. There was a tension in her posture, a guardedness in her demeanour, as if she held secrets too weighty to share.

"I know how much you long for Aemond to be here with you in this moment. He would give anything to be by your side, to share in the joy and pain of bringing new life into this world, and even though he can't be here physically, his love for you knows no bounds. He carries you in his heart, just as you carry him in yours” said Helaena, her words carrying a soothing warmth.

"Now I need you to focus your strength, Princess” urged Maester Gerardys, his voice a steady anchor amidst the tumult of emotions that swirled around them. "It's time. I need you to push."

With a guttural scream that echoed through the chamber, Vaelys pushed with all her might, her muscles straining against the weight of her labour. The roars of Vermithor outside grew louder and more intense, as if echoing the pain and determination coursing through her veins.

Helaena held tightly to Vaelys' hand, her own fingers trembling with emotion as she offered silent strength and support. Rhaenyra leaned in close, pressing gentle kisses to Vaelys' furrowed brow, her words of encouragement lost amidst the cacophony of noise.

The sheets beneath Vaelys were stained with blood, a stark reminder of the battle being waged within her body. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, every fibre of her being screaming for respite. But still, she pushed, drawing upon a wellspring of inner strength she never knew she possessed.

And then, with one final, push, the babe emerged into the world, a tiny, wailing bundle of life. Vaelys collapsed back against the pillows, her chest heaving with exertion, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks.

Helaena's eyes widened in awe, Rhaenyra's breath caught in her throat, and even Vermithor's roars seemed to falter in the presence of the miracle before them.

"It's a boy," Maester Gerardys announced, his voice filled with wonder as he cradled the newborn in his arms.

As Vaelys gazed upon her son for the first time, a rush of emotion flooded her heart as she whispered, her voice barely a breath, "A son, Aemond-we have a son."

The babe was a vision of beauty, with silver hair that shimmered in the faint light of the birthing chamber and eyes the colour of amethyst, mirroring that of his father. In that moment, he looked the very image of Aemond.

As Rhaenyra and Helaena gathered around Vaelys and her newborn son, their hearts overflowing with love and joy, they knew that their family was forever changed. For in the face of new life, hope blossomed anew, filling the chamber with the promise of a brighter future for them all.

Rhaenyra's eyes shimmered with pride and joy as she looked down at her grandson cradled in her daughter’s arms.

"What are you going to call him?" she asked, her excitement palpable.

Vaelys' smile widened as she gazed upon her newborn son, her heart overflowing with love. "Daevyn," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "It means freedom”.

The significance of the name was not lost on Helaena, who shared a knowing glance with Vaelys. Daevyn was the name that Aemond had chosen for a son before Sovia was born, he saw it as s symbol of hope and resilience.

Helaena's smile grew as she reached out to gently caress her nephew's cheek. "Prince Daevyn Targaryen," she declared proudly, her voice filled with pride.

Sovia, with her bright eyes and messy silver curls, toddled into the room, her tiny hand gripping a plush dragon toy tightly. She paused in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the bundle nestled in her mother's arms.

"Sweet girl," Vaelys whispered, her voice soft with affection, as she gestured for Sovia to come closer.

With cautious steps, Sovia approached her mother and the newborn babe, her curiosity piqued. She reached out a chubby hand, her fingers gently brushing against Daevyn's tiny fist.

Daevyn stirred at the touch, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal bright, amethyst eyes that mirrored Sovia's own. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he gazed up at his sister with wonder.

Sovia's face lit up with a radiant smile as she giggled with delight, her laughter filling the room like a melody. She leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Daevyn's forehead before settling down beside her mother to admire her new baby brother.

Vaelys' heart clenched with a mixture of longing and sorrow. She cradled Daevyn closer to her chest, her thoughts drifting to Aemond, who was still far away in exile.

In that bittersweet moment, Vaelys couldn't help but wonder if Aemond felt the same ache in his heart, the same longing to be with his family. She whispered a silent prayer, wishing for their reunion to come swiftly so they could share in the joys of parenthood together.

Vaelys walked along the sun-kissed shores of Dragonstone, the soft sand beneath her feet yielding with each step. Daevyn nestled snugly against her chest in a sling of cloth, his tiny breaths warming her skin with each exhale. Beside her, Sovia skipped along, her hand clasped tightly in hers, their footsteps leaving imprints in the sand.

Helaena strolled beside them, her three children darting ahead, their laughter mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves. Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor chased each other along the shoreline, their playful antics painting the air with joy.

Behind them, Daeron kept a watchful eye, smiling as he observed his nieces and nephews.

As Sovia giggled and darted off to join her cousins in their playful chase along the shoreline, Vaelys couldn't help but pause for a moment, her gaze drifting across the vast expanse of the sea. A pang of longing tugged at her heart as she wondered quietly to herself: Is Aemond okay?

Sensing her turmoil, Helaena stepped closer, her presence a comforting anchor amidst Vaelys' inner turmoil. With a gentle touch, she wrapped an arm around Vaelys' shoulders, offering silent solace and reassurance.

"He's okay, Vaelys," Helaena murmured softly, her voice carrying the weight of conviction. "Aemond is strong, and he will come home to you".

Vaelys drew a shaky breath, her worries momentarily eased by Helaena's words of comfort. She leaned into her good sister's embrace, finding solace in the warmth of her presence.

Vaelys turned around and a flicker of panic shot through her chest at the sudden absence of Sovia. She scanned the beach frantically, her eyes darting from one spot to another, searching for any sign of her daughter amidst the swirling chaos of laughter and waves.

"Sovia?" she called out, her voice trembling with worry, the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.

Vaelys' heart pounded in her chest as she rushed over to Daeron, desperation etched into every line of her face.

"Daeron, where is she?" she demanded, her voice tinged with fear.

Daeron's expression mirrored her concern as he met her gaze, his eyes scanning the beach in search of any sign of Sovia.

"I... I took my eyes off her for just a second," he admitted, his voice filled with regret. "I didn't see where she went."

A surge of panic washed over Vaelys as she processed Daeron's words. She clutched Daevyn closer to her chest, her heart racing with fear for her missing daughter.

“Silver and wing, together the two will sing, an egg for a King” muttered Helaena her voice carrying a cryptic note that gave Vaelys pause.

Before Vaelys could question her further, a sudden roar pierced the air, reverberating through the surroundings with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

Their attention snapped to the source of the sound, their eyes widening in awe as a shadow passed overhead. Against the backdrop of the sky, the silhouette of a dragon emerged.

“Silverwing” exclaimed Vaelys her heart skipping a beat as she watched the beautiful silver dragon land on the beach with a thud.

But her wonder quickly turned to panic as she heard Sovia's giggles nearby.

"Sovia!" Vaelys cried out, her voice tinged with fear as she saw her daughter toddling toward the dragon, her tiny hand outstretched in curiosity.

Fear gripped Vaelys' heart as she raced forward, her maternal instincts urging her to protect her child. But to her astonishment, Silverwing lowered her head with a gentle grace, her eyes shimmering with warmth and affection as she regarded Sovia.

A sense of wonder washed over Vaelys as she watched the unlikely encounter unfold before her eyes. With cautious steps, Sovia approached the dragon, her laughter filling the air with joy as she reached out to touch Silverwing's scaled snout.

To Vaelys' astonishment, Silverwing responded with an affectionate purr, her massive head nuzzling against Sovia's tiny hand with a gentleness that belied her formidable size.

"I guess Silverwing has found her rider,” remarked Daeron quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and admiration.

"She's not even two name days old," Vaelys murmured, her voice tinged with wonder as she watched Sovia interact with the majestic creature before her.

In Sovia's innocent laughter and Silverwing's gentle purrs, Vaelys saw the undeniable proof of a bond being formed.

Daeron's laughter rang out across the beach, a buoyant and infectious sound that filled the air with mirth and warmth.

"Imagine Aemond's face when he comes back and discovers that his daughter is the youngest Targaryen in our history to ever claim a full-grown dragon," he exclaimed, his voice laced with amusement. "The guy is going to be so insufferable!"

Vaelys couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, the image of Aemond's proud and boastful demeanour bringing a smile to her lips. She could already picture the gleam of pride in his eye as he regaled anyone who would listen with tales of Sovia's remarkable feat.

Vaelys' gaze shifted to Vermithor, who lay basking in the warmth of the sun, his massive form sprawled out lazily on the sand. With a hint of playful sarcasm, she addressed the dragon.

"Thanks for all your help," she remarked dryly, her tone tinged with amusement.

Vermithor, sensing the sarcasm in her words, cracked open one eye, and let out a low, rumbling huff in response, as if to say, "She’s fine."

Vaelys couldn't help but grin at her dragon's playful reaction, a sense of camaraderie passing between them.

Vaelys turned to Helaena, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she thought of her newborn son. "Sovia has her dragon now, but what about Daevyn?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with worry.

Helaena smiled reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on Vaelys' shoulder. "Don't worry, Vaelys," she said gently. "Daevyn will have his dragon soon enough."

Vaelys nodded, her heart eased by Helaena's words. She knew that in time, Daevyn would find his own companion, a dragon to call his own. With a grateful smile, Vaelys turned her gaze back to Sovia and Silverwing, feeling a sense of peace wash over her as she watched them play together on the beach of Dragonstone.

The wind rushed past Vaelys' face as Vermithor soared through the skies, his powerful wings beating rhythmically against the currents. With Sovia securely fastened in the saddle in front of her and Daevyn strapped to her back, Vaelys felt a sense of exhilaration coursing through her veins as she flew with her children.

Beside them, Silverwing and Sapphyre soared gracefully, their scales gleaming in the sunlight as they danced through the clouds. Sovia, almost three years old now, squealed with delight, her laughter echoing through the air as she reached out to touch the sky.

"Look, Mama, look!" Sovia exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she pointed to the world below.

Vaelys couldn't help but smile at her daughter's infectious joy, her heart swelling with pride at the sight of her children flying alongside her. Daevyn, just fifteen moons old, gazed wide-eyed at the world around him, his tiny fingers grasping at the air in excitement.

As the winds carried them higher into the clouds, Vaelys couldn't shake the memory of Helaena's comforting words. "Daevyn will have his dragon soon enough," a promise of hope and possibility that lingered in Vaelys' mind.

It wasn't long after that when Silverwing laid a clutch of eggs, each one a shimmering promise of new life. Among them was a single egg, chosen by some unspoken instinct, to be placed in Daevyn's cradle.

Days passed, marked by anticipation, for the egg to hatch. And then, one morning, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, the egg cracked open.

A dragon of silver and blue emerged from the shell, its scales gleaming in the early light as it stretched its wings and let out a triumphant roar. The little hatchling, bonding immediately with Daevyn, curling up at his side.

As time passed, Sapphyre grew swiftly, his scales shimmering in the sunlight as he stretched his wings and tested his strength. Despite his youth, he was already a good size for his age, his lithe form exuding a sense of grace and power that contradicted his tender years.

With each passing day, Vaelys watched with pride as Sapphyre honed his skills, his flights becoming more confident and his movements more fluid. He soared through the skies alongside his mother, Silverwing and Vermithor.

Together, the three dragons danced through the clouds, their wings beating in perfect harmony as they embraced the freedom of the open sky. And as they flew, Vaelys felt a sense of wonder wash over her, grateful for the beauty and magic of the dragons.

Vaelys stood on the sandy shores of Dragonstone, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. As she waited for Aemond's return, her mind drifted back to the night before he left, their final moments together etched into her memory.

"Meet me on the beach of Dragonstone," he had said, his voice filled with determination and longing.

In that moment, Vaelys had promised herself that she would wait for him, no matter how long it took. But now, as she stood there, the weight of uncertainty pressed down upon her, her thoughts swirling with doubts and fears.

What if Aemond didn't come? What if the two years apart had changed him, irrevocably altering the bond they shared?

The air seemed to grow heavy with her doubts, the silence stretching out before her like an endless abyss. But just as her fears threatened to consume her, a deafening roar shattered the stillness, echoing through the air with a force that sent shivers down her spine.

And then, Vhagar descended through the clouds, her majestic form cutting through the sky with a grace that defied description. In that moment, all of Vaelys' doubts melted away, replaced by a surge of hope and longing that burned brighter than the sun itself.

With tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, Vaelys watched as Vhagar landed on the beach.

Aemond began his descent down the rope ladder, his movements eager and impatient. But halfway down, his haste overtook him, and with a determined glint in his eye, he let go of the ladder and leapt down onto the soft sand below.

Vaelys stood there, stunned by the sight of her husband, his features etched with determination and longing. In the two years they'd been apart. Aemond had grown even more handsome, his sharp features softened by the warmth of his smile.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Vaelys drank in the sight of him, her heart overflowing with love and longing. And as Aemond approached her with outstretched arms, she felt a surge of joy wash over her, and with a cry of joy, Vaelys sprinted across the sand toward Aemond, her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. As she reached him, she leaped into his arms, her laughter mingling with his as they tumbled into the soft embrace of the sand below.

Giggling uncontrollably, Vaelys peppered kisses all over Aemond's face, her lips finding his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose in a flurry of affection and adoration. With each kiss, she felt the weight of their separation lift from her shoulders, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for the man who held her heart.

Aemond wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they lay entwined in the sand, their laughter echoing across the beach.

Aemond's voice trembled with emotion as he spoke, his eye searching Vaelys' face for reassurance. "I was worried you wouldn't be waiting for me," he confessed, his words heavy with the weight of his fears. "That the years apart would mean you no longer loved me, that you had taken another husband-"

But Vaelys shook her head, her eyes shining with love and devotion as she reached out to cup his cheek. "It's you, Aemond," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "It's always been you."

With those words hanging in the air between them, Aemond's fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. And as their lips met in a passionate kiss, the world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's embrace, their love stronger than ever before.

"Brother!"

Aemond turned to see Daeron and Helaena hurrying towards them, their faces alight with joy and relief. With a smile spreading across his face, Aemond rose to his feet, pulling Vaelys up beside him as he greeted his siblings.

With open arms, Aemond embraced Daeron and Helaena, pulling them into a tight hug. The warmth of their reunion enveloped them, filling the air with a sense of familial love and unity.

Tears of happiness glistened in Daeron's eyes as he clapped Aemond on the back, his voice thick with emotion. "It's good to have you back, brother," he said, his words echoing the sentiments of everyone present.

Helaena joined in the embrace, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she held her brother close. "We missed you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

With their arms wrapped around each other, the three of them stood together on the beach of Dragonstone, united once more.

As Aemond's gaze scanned the surroundings, his eyes fell upon a small figure standing with Ceci near the steps, a little girl with silver curls cascading down her shoulders. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized her instantly.

"S-Sovia?" Aemond stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His daughter—his precious little girl—stood before him, but she was no longer the baby he remembered. She had grown so much in the two years he had been away, her silver curls just as wild and untamed as ever.

Stunned, Aemond approached her slowly, his steps faltering as he reached out a trembling hand. But Sovia, shy and unsure, backed away, seeking refuge behind Vaelys' protective embrace.

His heart aching with longing, Aemond knelt down before her, his eyes filled with love and longing. "Byka grēges," he whispered softly (Little bug).

At the sound of her father's voice, Sovia's eyes widened in recognition, and then, as if a dam had burst, she uttered a single word that filled Aemond's heart with boundless joy.

"Daddy."

With a cry of delight, Sovia threw herself into Aemond's waiting arms, her laughter ringing out like music on the breeze.

As Aemond basked in the joy of reuniting with Sovia, Vaelys stepped back, allowing father and daughter a few precious moments together. She watched them with a tender smile, her heart swelling with love and gratitude for the sight before her.

But as the moments passed, Vaelys knew it was time to share another precious gift with Aemond—their son, Daevyn. With a gentle nod to Ceci, she took her son into her arms, feeling the weight of his tiny form against her chest.

Taking a deep breath, Vaelys turned to face Aemond, her heart fluttering with nervous anticipation. She could see the stunned expression on his face as his gaze fell upon the boy in her arms.

"I-Is he?" Aemond's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief and wonder.

With a soft smile, Vaelys nodded, her heart overflowing with joy. "Yes," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "This is your son. His name is Daevyn, born nine moons after you left."

As Aemond took in the sight of his son for the first time, his initial shock quickly gave way to a surge of overwhelming emotion. His heart pounded with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his mind struggling to process the revelation before him.

He had a son—a son he never knew existed. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightening, filling him with a sense of betrayal and fury. How could this have happened? How could his wife have given birth to their child without his knowledge?

His anger simmered, threatening to boil over as he grappled with the enormity of the situation. He knew it wasn't Vaelys' fault—she had been left in the dark just as much as he had. But still, the injustice of it all gnawed at him, fuelling the flames of his rage.

His gaze hardened as he turned his thoughts to Rhaenyra, the woman who had sent him away, tearing him from his family and his home. It was her decree that had forced him into exile, robbing him of the chance to witness the birth of his own son.

Bitterness welled up inside him as he thought of the time lost, the moments stolen from him by forces beyond his control. Anguish mingled with fury as he cursed the circumstances that had kept him apart from his loved ones, leaving him to wallow in ignorance while life carried on without him.

"Aemond," she began softly, her voice filled with warmth and compassion, "Would you like to hold Daevyn?"

Aemond's gaze flickered to his son, in Vaelys' arms, his features serene and innocent. For a moment, the storm of anger and resentment that brewed within him threatened to consume him entirely. But then, with a heavy sigh, he nodded silently, his resolve to confront Rhaenyra simmering beneath the surface for the time being.

Wordlessly, Vaelys carefully transferred Daevyn into Aemond's waiting arms, her touch gentle and reassuring. As their son nestled against his chest, Aemond felt a wave of tenderness wash over him, mingling with the anger and frustration that still lingered in his heart.

The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm ambiance over the small dinner gathering, illuminating the faces of those gathered around the table. Vaelys sat at the head, her radiant smile lighting up the room as she doted on their children, Sovia, and Daevyn.

Beside her, Aemond watched with a sense of overwhelming gratitude, his heart swelling with love as he beheld the sight of his family together once more. Daeron sat across from him, a grin on his face as he regaled the table with tales of his time at Old Town and how he once filled Lord Ormund’s boots with manure, his laughter filling the air.

Helaena sat beside her brother, with Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor by her side, their youthful energy adding to the lively atmosphere of the evening. Aemond couldn't help but smile as he watched them interact, their laughter and chatter a soothing melody that filled him with a sense of peace.

As he looked around the table at the faces of those, he loved the most, Aemond felt a surge of contentment wash over him.

He watched as Vaelys tended to their children with a grace and tenderness that took his breath away, her love for them evident in every gesture and smile. In that moment, Aemond fell in love with her all over again, grateful beyond words for the woman who had stood by his side through thick and thin.

As the evening stretched on and the laughter continued to flow, Aemond found himself lost in the warmth of the moment, his anger towards Rhaenyra could wait because he was home at last.

As soon as the door was closed, Aemond was on her, he wrapped his hand around Vaelys’ throat and pressed her against the wall.

“I can’t wait any longer ābrazȳrys, I need to have you” exclaimed Aemond (Wife).

“-Pār gūrogon issa “ replied Vaeryna as Aemond suddenly lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers (Then take me).

Their kiss was rough and desperate. Consisting of teeth and tongue.

It was an eruption of frustration and passion. Hands everywhere, grabbing, scratching, and pulling at one another.

Aemond spun Vaelys around and pressed her face against the wall, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other quickly untying the laces of his breeches.

Gods, he was so fucking hard, he'd been hard the moment he saw his wife again, and in truth if Daeron and Helaena hadn't of been there, he would have fucked Vaelys in the sand.

Aemond nudged her ankle with his foot, signalling for her to open her legs wider.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Vaelys moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

“Two years-two fucking years I’ve waited-“ growled Aemond.

“Kostilus” begged Vaelys (Please).

"Two years with nothing but my own hand-I fucked my fist everynight, thinking of you"

Aemond pulled up his wife’s skirts and slipped his fingers into her small clothes.

“Fuck” moaned Aemond, gods she was so wet that he almost spilled in his breeches.

Aemond ran his hand up and down the hard length of himself, eyeing his wife with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she bent forward for him.

He pulls aside her small clothes as he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her.

“THAT’S IT!” groaned Aemond.

Vaelys couldn’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts, Aemond set a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers, his hard cock reaching deep inside her.

Then he withdrew from her and span her around, lifting her into his arms, his mouth pressed against hers as he quickly sheathed himself back inside her.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Vaelys.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

He withdraws from her again, making her whimper in frustration.

But Aemond ignored her as he laid her on the chaise lounge and fell to his knees.

Sliding his calloused hands up her legs, bunching the fabric of her small clothes in his hand before he rips them from her body.

“Aemond” shrieked Vaelys as Aemond’s mouth descends on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into his wife’s core with his tongue, in and out, much faster than his cock ever could.

Still gasping, Vaelys clutched at his head with one hand, her other digging into the fabric of the chaise.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Vaelys ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

Aemond growled, deep in his throat. The vibration of his vocal cords rippled through to his tongue and Vaelys gasped; she felt every vibration keenly. Her body tensed for her peak– But Aemond pulled away from her and smirked, his chin shining with her slick.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaelys, the tears of frustration spilling down her cheeks.

“Be a good little wife and take what your husband gives you” said Aemond as he reached for the laces of her dress before he grew impatient and tore it from her body, leaving her body bare before him.

His own hands moving to his own breeches and shirt, removing them as quick as he could before he surged forward and worshipped his wife’s breasts. His tongue licking at the stiffened rosy peaks

“P-Please. Husband” sobbed Vaelys as she felt his hard cock sliding against her folds.

“Hmm” growled Aemond as he wrapped his hand around his wife’s throat and sheathed himself inside her once more.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Vaelys.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance. He marvelled at her body. Such a beautiful, succulent thing his wife was. Allowing him entry into the most sacred parts of her body.

Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, his fingers digging into the flesh of her throat, using her as leverage as he repeatedly plunged his cock into her cunny, over, thrilled to hear Vaelys’ moans of need echoing around their chambers.

His thrusts, brutal and unrelenting.

“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond.

Vaelys screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

Gods, he needed to spill his seed, but not like this.

So, with his cock still nestled inside her, Aemond manoeuvred himself into a sitting position with Vaelys on his lap.

“Give me another-I want you to come on my cock again” growled Aemond.

Vaelys ran her hands over the defined muscles of his chest, her nails digging into his pale skin.

“Oh” gasped Vaelys as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”.

Aemond placed his hands on Vaelys’ hips and marvelled at his wife as she rode him.

Vaelys dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Vaelys as he moved his hand to her breasts and once again took one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention as the other.

Vaelys’ thighs began to burn, as she felt her second peak approach.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelys her vision going white as she came around his cock.

 “God. Vaelys” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside her, collapsing against the chaise, breathing hard.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses. Meanwhile his wife had collapsed against him, her face pressed into his neck.

"Rest a while ābrazȳrys and I shall have you again-we've got two years to make up for" rasped Aemond (Wife).

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond #hotd #hotd smut #helaena targaryen #daeron targaryen #queen rhaenyra

[presidenthades]

Modern AU HOTD Yule Fic

Title: Love Actually (Targaryen Version)

Word Count: 7100 (complete, oneshot)

Rating: M (for language and ribald humor, probably being overcautious)

Summary: The Targaryen clan is gathering for their annual Yule celebration. Daemon forgot to buy presents (again), Aegon and Jacaera are bringing the new baby, everyone’s hoping Aemond and Lucera don’t have sex in the closet (again), and Joff is hiding something (but what else is new?). Also, Cregan is coming as Baela’s date. This is his first time meeting her family, and he is absolutely, totally, 100% prepared for this.

Notes: Modern AU of the House Full of Daughters-verse. Rhaenyra is adopted so a lot of incest has been removed from the equation, but your mileage may vary. We’re mostly here to watch Daemon suffer.

#my writing #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fic #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #daeron targaryen #female jacaerys velaryon #female lucerys velaryon #female joffrey velaryon #baela targaryen #cregan stark #aegon x oc #aemond x oc #daeron x OC #Cregan x baela #modern AU #Christmas #Yule

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Daegor Targaryen aesthetic

Daegor Targaryen, brother of Viserys I Targaryen and Daemon Targaryen The Rogue Prince. Uncle to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. Later on becoming King himself, King Daegor I Targaryen.

Daegor Targaryen rode the she-dragon Mirazaer, a purple beauty later on ridden by his granddaughter Princess Daenys, daughter of King Aegon II and Queen Halaena. Daegor Targaryen fathered Aegon II, Daenya, Halaena, Aemond, Aenora, Daeron, Shaera, Aelyx, Daemon and Viserys almost putting Jaehaerys I and Alysanne to shame with ten offsprings while they had thirteen however all ten do outlive him.

Daegor Targaryen sided with the greens however he prevented a war from breaking out between the two parts of the family. Daegor broke tradition and married his brother’s widow, Alicent Hightower. Daegor followed his ancestors ways by marrying two women, Clara Beesbury was his second wife and mother to four of his children.

#game of thrones #house targaryen #aegon ii #aegon the second #daemon targaryen #daemon x oc #house of the dragon #house of the dragon aemond #rhaenyra targaryen #daegor targaryen #alicent hightower #clara beesbury #aelyx targaryen #aenora Targaryen #daenya targaryen #daeron targaryen #viserys targaryen #house targeryen #house of the dragon imagine #house of the

[pansyparkinsonsworld]

THE LONE WOLF AND THE LAUGHING DRAGON

Rhaella was the youngest daughter of the King, Viserys I Targaryen, and his wife, Alicent Hightower. At the age of twelve, Rhaella was sent to Winterfell for a betrothal to the young Cregan Stark.

CHAPTER ONE: the winter kiss

Rhaella bowed down, before the Northman, looking a little taken aback by how massive he looked. He was as tall as she had thought, but he was too tall. "M-my.." She stuttered. "My young Lord to be.."

He raised a hand to halt her as she began to bow. "My Lady, there is no need for bowing. I am nothing more than a common lord, one who is only concerned about the safety of the realm." He paused for a moment before asking his next question. "Lady Targaryen?" He assumed she was who she was. "Am I correct in assuming that you are a Targaryen?"

"Yes, my Lord." She smiled. "I am that of Princess Rhaella of House Targaryen, third born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. Princess Rhaella Viserra of House Targaryen."

His eyes widened slightly when he heard her full name, before nodding and smiling. "I see, it is an honor to meet a Princess of House Targaryen." He hesitated for a moment before asking the question he so badly wanted to ask. "If I may be so bold, Princess, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, my Lord." She nodded, as she stepped forth. She only wore a black dress, topped with a thick fur coat that almost buried her face. "Any question would be preferred."

He was silent for a moment, thinking to myself as he looked at the Princess. Finally, he spoke up. "This is a hard question to ask, but…do you control a dragon? Are all Princesses of House Targaryen bonded with dragons?"

She hesitated, before nodding. "Yes.. What can I call you? You are not yet a Lord, as you are certainly not of age.. We have an age difference, you and I. A slim difference of a year and two moons."

He paused for a moment. "I am Cregan Stark." I said simply. We were both too young to truly need titles, so perhaps it was better this way. "You can call me Cregan, if you would like."

He paused for a moment, unsure if he should ask about the dragons. Would a Targaryen Princess be too offended if her answer was too honest? But he felt he had to know. "What is your dragon's name?"

"Silverwing, that of the late Queen Alysanne's mount." She smiled. She placed a hand on Cregan's long brown hair and giggled, as she touched it. "Your hair.. It's.. beautiful, my Lord. I really like it,"

He could feel his face start to turn red as she started to touch his hair. He was not used to having a beautiful Princess of the Targaryen dynasty pay him attention, and the contact of her hand in his hair only made him blush more than he already was. He stuttered for a moment before getting it out. "Y-you think so? Your hair is beautiful as well."

"I really think it is beautiful, Cregan.." She whispered, her voice low. The winds blew, and Rhaella's hair flew to the right, and she giggled. "Gods!" She giggled. "Thank you for the compliment, Cregan." She smiled at the end.

He smiled as she giggled. He had not really had many interactions with girls his age, so this was a big thing for him. He was almost completely flustered as he spoke. "W-well, it is true." He stuttered. "I can't imagine many girls who have better hair or who are more beautiful than yourself, my lady."

She took Cregan's rough hands to her soft ones, and she looked at his hands. "Gods, what is of your hands? They look rough, and.." She noted. "Have you come out of training? M-my brothers usually have hands like these when they come out of training.."

His face turned even more red as she held my hands. She was right, his hands were rough, and his fingers were scarred from a lifetime of swords and shields and bows and lances. He held up his hands and looked at them. "A lifetime of fighting, my lady." He nodded. "I learned to fight as soon as I could walk, as every Lord of the North does. We are born warriors." He squeezed her hands. They were so soft. "Have you been training as well?"

She shook her head. "I am not allowed to train with a sword. Only my brothers can.." She explained. "I do not mind. My septa says that I knit well, especially by the fire."

He smiled and nodded. "Knitting can be very calming, I am sure. It is never too late to learn the sword though. I am sure your father would allow you to be trained in the blade for self defense should the need ever arise." He paused as I looked at Rhaella. "Would you want to learn, my lady? I would be happy to teach you if your father were to allow it, and if you wanted to."

"I have asked my Father, the King." She explained. But she laughed. "Mother had forbidden me from ever touching a blade or a lance. Helaena thinks of it as horrifying, given that she's rather.. fragile."

He shrugged. "Your mother does what she feels is best for you. That is all any parent may hope to do, but to know how to defend yourself might one day be vital. If the dragons were ever to die out, then the Targaryens would need to be able to defend themselves, just as everyone else must."

He smiled and squeezed Rhaella's hand again. "But if you aren't interested in that, then perhaps I could teach you to ride? We Northerners have many wild horses that you can only find in our lands. I bet I could find you a beautiful filly from the stables."

"I have my sworn sword, Cregan." She giggled. "And I have Silverwing, why would I have a need to ride a horse?" Her sworn sword was that of Ser Clatton of House Vypren. "Is there a silver filly, though? I might want to look at that.."

He grinned as she mentioned her sworn sword and her dragon. She was right. What would she need a horse for when she had the most dangerous beast in the realm? "I suppose you are right." He nodded. "Would you like to see some horses, though? I have plenty of fine breeds in my stable, and I would love to take you on a ride through the woods around Winterfell. I imagine you have seen nothing as grand and beautiful as the Godswoods, have you?"

"I have not seen the Godswoods yet, but.." She took a breath. "I am sure that it is beautiful, as you claim it is." She smiled, and looked at the Stark. He was only three-and-ten, and her.. two-and-ten.

When she smiled, his heart skipped a beat. Was it really possible that I had such an effect on the beautiful Targaryen Princess? She was a Targaryen! And from what he had seen of them, most of them were rather cold and aloof. However, Rhaella seemed to be as warm and gentle as the summer.

He smiled widely, and squeezed her hand once more. "It is beautiful. The old trees there are massive, and the roots of the trees are like the fingers of old gods themselves, sprawling below. It is beautiful and peaceful, and I would be honoured to take you there."

"So, take me there." She giggled, placing a hand on his heart. "Take me to the heart of Winterfell. I want to ride a horse with you, it seems like fun."

He blinked in surprise for a moment, but then he nodded and chuckled. "Of course I will, my lady." He squeezed her hand once more. "And I assure you it is a fun ride. There is no animal as majestic and beautiful as a horse. They are swift and they are strong. You shall enjoy it."

He leaned in a bit, whispering in her ear. "Would you want to ride alone?" he asked. "My guards can keep their distance, and we can have…privacy."

Rhaella's heart fluttered, as he leaned in and whispered. "I would love to ride with you, Cregan." She whispered. "It is only fit for us to ride, since.. we are betrothed, after all."

His heart stopped and then raced as she spoke those words. His voice was shaky and his hands trembled as he leaned in and kissed her on her soft lips. She was right, they were promised to each other, and this would be only the first of many things we would do together as husband and wife. "Perhaps it is only fitting," He whispered. "It is only proper."

She blinked, as he let go of her lips. "My… M-my." She stammered, she has never been kissed before, but to be kissed by her betrothed was worth it. "How old are you? I am only two-and-ten!"

He smiled as he leaned back and looked at her. This was her first kiss? For a Targaryen Princess I would have expected there to have been many before me, but perhaps most boys were too scared of her house and her dragons to try. I couldn't blame them.

He considered her question for a moment. "I am three and ten," he admitted. "I am a year older. I hope it is okay?"

"Yes, of course." She stammered. She was still nervous, as Cregan had just kissed her not too long ago. "I.. I am still in shock—. Cregan.. You have just—. You have just kissed me, my Lord!"

He laughed a bit as she stuttered out her words. This was certainly an odd situation, but he was enjoying it. He squeezed her hand again and smiled. "This was your first kiss? I am glad that I could be the one to give it." He leaned in once more and kissed her again, much to his delight. "Does this one shock you as much, my lady? Or is it something you are starting to enjoy?"

Rhaella gasped, as he kissed her once more. "My L—Lord.." She gasped, as she touched her lips. "You just kissed me!" She stammered. She was getting to enjoy the kisses, but that was unexpected.

He smiled, and squeezed her hand. "Indeed I did, Rhaella. And you enjoyed it, didn't you? I am starting to enjoy giving them, as well." He leaned down to her again, and whispered in her ear. "Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She began to stutter, and looked at him. "My.. My L–Lord.." She stuttered. She was nervous, and began to fidget the coat that she had on. "You.." He laughed as she stuttered. It was obvious that she was nervous, but the laughter was not in response to that. A beautiful Targaryen Princess stammering? It was such a foreign and yet so adorable sight that he could not help but laugh.

"What is it?" He asked her with a smile. "Are you too nervous?" he squeezed her hand, hoping to calm her down. "It is okay if so. You do not have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, my lady. And yet…" He leaned in once more, whispering in her ear. "May I kiss you one more time?"

She bit her lip, and looked away from Cregan for a moment. She needed to breathe, and she needed it. She thought of it, for a moment. If she were to kiss him, it would seal the marriage alliance. After a moment, she walked forward and kissed him. Both her cold and soft hands on his face.

He was not expecting her to be the one to initiate the kiss this time, and he could feel myself start to blush. Once her lips met his, his confidence returned, and he grabbed her around the waist before pulling her closer to him and kissing her back. He closed my eyes, and let himself get caught up in the moment, before eventually pulling away and breathlessly whispering in her ear. "Is this what you wanted? Does this make you happy, my lady?"

"Very–." She giggled and smiled. Cregan's big hands were placed on her waist, and it covered a big portion of her waist. "Now.. Can we ride?"

He smiled and gently stroked her silver hair as she spoke. "If you wish, my lady. We can ride all you like." He laughed as he spoke, and smiled down at her. "We can ride through the Godswood, or ride around on my horse, or you can fly on your dragon." He laughed again. "How would you like to ride?"

"Ride around on your horse, it sounds like a brilliant idea, my Lord." She smiled, as he laughed. He smiled as I squeezed her hand one more time. "Then let us go to the stables, my dear. I promise you that my horse is a fine animal indeed. If you enjoy riding, I think it may even be better than riding a dragon." He laughed, and winked at her as he said it.

With that, he began to lead Rhaella to the stables, where he had an especially fine horse, who would be perfect for a Targaryen Princess.

#aegon #aemond #helaena #daeron #targaryen #creganstark #cregan #stark #winterfell #dragonstone #fanfiction #fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #smut #hotd smut #house of the dragon helaena #house stark #hotd x oc #cregan stark x oc #hotdoc #cregan fanfic #cregan fanfiction #cregan smut

[dreamfyre03]

A Dragon's Love

Trigger Warnings: A bit of swearing, threats, mentions of violence, Aemond being a little obsessive

Chapter 4: The Woes of Courtship

Five years later

At ten and eight, Aemond Targaryen had now grown to become the man widely known throughout the realm as the feared one eyed prince. Most people dared not look him in the eye, his wielded his sword with indescribable skill, as though it were an extension of his person. His continued his schooling even when he didn’t have to, and tutors from all over the realms were brought the King’s Landing to further his knowledge, at his request. 

He liked his fearsome reputation, no one dared to cross him, and he liked it that way. He liked being feared. 

However, the only rare instance one might see a crack in his carefully curated exterior, was in the presence of his older half sister, Daenys. Aemond couldn’t resist looking at her, trying but sometimes failing to be subtle. She had grown into a beautiful woman, with long silver white hair, much like his own, kind grey-blue eyes one could get lost in. Her body was a woman’s now, with a woman’s curves, and large breasts that Aemond knew sometimes attracted the attention of many a nobleman. She never lost her kind spirit, and although one might make the mistake of thinking she was much like Helaena, gentle and fragile, Aemond knew his sister possessed a dragonfire within her that was just waiting to be unleashed. 

He had finished his training with Ser Criston for the day, spoke with his mother after she attended to the King’s council with his grandsire, and paid a visit to Helaena and the children. He turned the corner and entered the library, where he knew she would be, and was met with the sight of her in a red and black dress, for although one might mistake the colours as a symbol of support to their sister, he knew she simply loved to wear their Targaryen colours proudly. She was sitting on the settee, as Aegon sat next to her, clearly trying to convince her of getting involved in one of his foolish ideas, no doubt. “Come now, sister, you know I’d never let anything happen to you.” He heard Aegon tell her.

She simply laughed and shook her head. “Aegon, I’ve no wish to acquire our older sister’s reputation. You can recount your endeavours to me when you come back, as you always do.” She replied. He watched as Aegon leaned in close to her and whisper something, to which she let out another laugh, until she saw him. “Brother,” she greeted him, with a smile. Aemond took a seat on the other side of her, leaving her cushioned between her two brothers. 

“What is our brother trying to rope you into this time?” He asked, eyeing Aegon who rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, for I’ve already told him no” she emphasised her answer to him once again, only prompting him to grin at her cheekily. Aemond never understood how his drunken, whoring brother could be so dearly loved by Daenys, but he let it be. 

“You’re a woman grown, sister, a bit of carnal fun might be good for you,” Aegon said, running his finger across her cheek, causing her to roll her eyes at him with faux annoyance. 

Aemond glared at Aegon, who ignored his piercing stare. 

“Brother, I guarantee that should I go with you to the Street of Silk tonight, I will no doubt be recognised and reported back to your mother.” She said. “You wish to take our sister out to the Street of Silk? Are you mad?” Aemond asked incredulously. 

Aegon sighed and got up, “Don’t get all worked up, brother, she won’t come with me. Worry not sister, who knows, one night I might just bring the Street of Silk to you.” He teased, causing Daenys to laugh and toss her book at him, which he surprisingly caught expertly and rested on the table. He soon left them alone, and Aemond said, “You mustn’t let Aegon drag you into such ventures. The Street of Silk is no place for a woman like you.” 

Daenys shifted so that she was facing him, sitting comfortably with her feet tucked under her. “A woman like me?” She repeated his words, with a look of amusement. “Brother, need I remind you, as I often must, that I am the elder of us. Just because everyone fears you so doesn’t mean you can lecture me like I am the younger. I can handle Aegon, don’t you worry.” 

“They fear me for a reason, sister.” 

“Do they? And what will you do if I went with our brother tonight? Kill him?” She looked up at him with those eyes, and Aemond tried not to get lost in them. “I’m ceaselessly tempted to, so I just might.” He said seriously. 

“Hmm, well. You don’t scare me, little brother. Tell me, where is the little boy I used to take with me on rides atop Meraxa?” “He died long ago.” “Pity,” She said, studying his face, seeing him in a way only she could. “I quite loved that little boy once. I know he’s still in there, sweet boy, no matter how hard you try to snuff him out.” 

Aemond finally looked her back in the eye, and said, “Only for you, Daenys.”, unable to fight the small smile she could always coax out of him. 

“I’m glad.” She replied, yawning as she resting her head on his shoulder. Her warmth was like a blanket that encompassed him and made him feel at peace, the incessant angry noise in his head went quiet. 

“I am quite exhausted, baby Maelor is quite the bundle of energy, isn’t he?” She said, snuggling into him. 

Aemond generally didn’t like physical touch, he didn’t care to be unnecessarily touched by anyone, but, as she was with most things relating to him, Daenys was the exception to the rule. He savoured every touch, when she laughed a little too loudly and her hand would touch his arm, when she would reach up and smooth his long, Targaryen silver locks back into place after they came back from taking the skies together, or like now, when she would lay her head on his shoulder, as he would let her talk tiredly about whatever she wanted, for he could never get tired of hearing her voice. 

She smelled his jasmine and lilies, a scent that now, after eighteen years, felt like home to him. 

“But, are you too tired to take to the skies with Vhagar and I? Or are you scared Meraxa is, in fact not as fast as my Vhagar?” She shot up instantly, always ready for a challenge. “I shall prove you wrong again, brother. Come, let us be off to the Dragon Pit.” She said with a smile, her red dress effortlessly flowing around her as she moved, and Aemond followed right behind her. 

.

.

.

Aemond was in lighter spirits after spending hours in the sky with Daenys and Meraxa, and his usually cold disposition was slightly less guarded as they walked the halls together upon their return. That would not last for long, however, as they rounded the corner and met the handsome young Lord Linus Tyrell. “My Prince, Princess.” He greeted them. Aemond nodded in acknowledgement, his gaze hardened when he observed the Lord of Highgarden’s gaze lingering of the sight of his sister in her riding leathers. 

“Lord Tyrell, lovely to see you,” Daenys said politely, and the man smiled in response. “Not as lovely as it is for me to see you, Princess.” He replied, and Aemond felt anger creeping up his spine as he noticed the man taking in his sister in an unsubtle manner, looking at the shape of her body through the fitted riding leathers, which was arguably less conservative than a dress. 

Daenys simply gave him a cordial smile, as he continued to speak. “I’ve only just arrived from Highgarden today. It is particularly lovely this time of year.” “How sad it must be for you to leave it behind then,” His sister replied. 

“Indeed. A beauty such as yourself would put the blooms of Highgarden to shame, Princess.” He said, and Aemond fought the urge to roll his eye. “You are too kind, my Lord. I’m afraid I’m awfully tired, my brother and I have just returned from the Dragonpit. But I do hope you enjoy your stay in the capital.” 

“I believe I will. I hope to see you again soon, Princess.” He told her, as he bid them both farewell on went on his way. 

They walked on in companionable silence until they reached his sister’s rooms, and she bade him goodnight with a chaste kiss and went into her chambers. Aemond began to walk to his own rooms, only a few doors down, but could not get they way Lord Tyrell oogled this sister out of his head, and thought he might speak to his mother as to if she were aware of the man’s intentions. 

He quickened his steps but stopped outside the door when he heard his mother and grandfather conversing quietly. “He is a good match. We can never have too many allies in the Reach.” He heard his grandsire say. “Indeed, but it is not I who can grant Lord Tyrell permission to court Daenys, only the King can.” His mother replied.

“Yes, daughter, but we both know the King is in no state to consider such an idea. Not to mention, in the past he has rejected every marriage proposal that has come her way. In any case, when the King meets the stranger, it is the next ruler who will be responsible for her marriage.” “Rhaenyra will not care enough to see her sister wed.” His mother said. “You know that is not of whom I speak. Aegon is rather close to the girl, I suspect when he is king, he would marry her to a lord present at court, to keep her close to him. But that won’t serve our purposes much, will it?” 

He heard his mother sigh. “Very well. I shall grant him permission to court her, but should a match be the outcome, it is the King who has the final say.” “A wise choice. She would make a fine Lady of Highgarden, I believe.”

Aemond felt himself fuming with anger. He immediately turned himself away from the doors and walked away, lest his rage get the better of him and he did something he might regret. It didn’t surprise him that they spoke so openly of usurping his sister, and in all fairness he didn’t care, for why should the mother of bastards sit the throne? Although, his brother wasn’t exactly suited for the role either. But the politics amounted to nothing when compared to the fact that they wanted to marry his sister off the that Tyrell lord, who was clearly not worthy of her. He felt as though he could burn down King’s Landing with Vhagar at the very thought of her wedding him, letting him touch her, bed her, it made him sick. She wasn’t the Lord of Highgarden’s to claim, and he would damn well make sure of it. 

The next morning, Aemond stopped by the nursery to see Helaena and Daenys with the children. Helaena was braiding Jaehaera’s hair, while Jaehaerys played with a toy sword he had been gifted by his father. Maelor was sat atop Daenys’s lap, who bumped him gently on her knee as she sang softly to him. 

He sat with them, conversing about a number of things, including the upcoming celebrations to be held in a few months for Aemond’s name day, which he didn’t care for, but his mother insisted. He still hadn’t forgotten what he’d heard last night, and it returned to the forefront of his mind when he heard Helaena ask, “When will you meet Lord Tyrell?”

Aemond’s head snapped to attention, turning to listen as Daenys replied, “After his meeting with your mother and grandsire, I believe.” “He is quite handsome,” Helaena teased, and Daenys shook her head at her sister with an amused expression. 

“I suppose.” Was all she said. “He’s a pompous ass is what is is,” Aemond muttered under his breath. “What was that brother?” Helaena asked innocently. Daenys eyed him with a knowing expression, but instead he said, “I was only asking why are you meeting Lord Tyrell, sister?” 

“Your mother suggested I take him for a walk in the gardens. I don’t mind, really.” She told him. His mother had clearly began the matchmaking efforts already. He hadn’t a moment to waste. 

He abruptly bid his sisters and niece and nephews farewell, and walked until he saw the Lord Tyrell himself, seemingly heading for his mother’s sitting room. “Lord Tyrell.” Aemond greeted in a dark tone as he the man greeted him. “Prince Aemond. A pleasure, my prince, to see you this morning. I’m on my way to speak to the Queen, as it happens.” He said, seemingly eager to get to his destination. “My mother can wait. I believe we ought to have a word, my lord.” Aemond spoke clearly implying the man had no choice in the matter. He saw him gulp nervously at Aemond’s terrifyingly calm expression and nodded, as he followed Aemond into an empty study nearby. 

Aemond shut the door, creating a menacing feel in the room that was totally silent until Aemond spoke. “It is my understanding that you wish to court my sister.” Aemond finally broke the silence, looking down on the older man, who wasn’t that much older than Aemond, about twenty and six, but Aemond’s towering frame and commanding presence clearly set the tone that he was the one in power here. “I do, my prince.” He replied, unsuccessfully hiding his nervousness. “So, you think yourself worthy of my sister? Of the blood of the dragon, do you?” Aemond asked as he somewhat absentmindedly pulled out his dagger and looked at it with a bored expression. “Well, I would like to hope the Princess finds me worthy, my Prince.” He answered, his eye darting back and forth from Aemond’s face to the dagger in his hand. 

Aemond looked at him with an amused expression. “Allow me to spare my sister the effort. You are not. You are not worthy of my sister, you will rescind your request to court her, you will stay away from her, and you will return to Highgarden back to smelling the flowers or whatever the fuck you Tyrells do there. Am I clear?” Lord Tyrell bravely look Aemond in the eye and said, “Forgive me, my prince, but you do not decide who can court the princess. Only the King and Queen boast such authority.” Aemond gave a small laugh, but it lacked any warmth, it was a threatening laugh, one that struck fear in the Lord, who suddenly wished he didn’t try to stand his ground with one of the most feared men in the Seven Kingdoms.

In a flash, Aemond had the man cornered into the wall, and had the blade pressed to his neck before he even had a fighting chance. “I am feeling merciful today, so I will repeat myself again. You will withdraw your request to court my sister. You will stay far away from her. If I see your hungry gazing so much as linger past her face, I will personally carve your eyes out myself, and have them sent back to Highgarden. And if you breath a word of this conversation to the Queen, or the Hand, or Princess Daenys, then I will ensure that you are begging for the mercy of a quick death. I am a patient man, my lord, I am more than capable of keeping you alive for days whilst I feed you torture in ways that would have the bravest of men cowering. Do we have an understanding?”

As he spoke, the blade in his hand was pressing harder and harder into the man’s neck, until a spot of blood appeared and leaked onto his collar. He nodded fearfully, saying, “Yes my prince, I apologise.” Aemond withdrew himself. “Good. You may leave.” Lord Tyrell all but ran from the room, and Aemond wiped his dagger clean before putting it back in his scabbard. That very same day, his sister no longer met Lord Tyrell in the gardens, as he informed the Queen of an unexpected emergency back at Highgarden, and left King’s Landing that same day, and Aemond smiled in satisfaction at the man’s petrified expression as he bid them farewell and left to return home. It was that day Aemond knew, he would never let anyone take Daenys from him. 

#aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #hotd #oc #helaena targaryen #aegon ii #alicent hightower #daeron targaryen