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#for the strong female characters?
coffeecatcraze · 3 months
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Why are about 90% of the finale posts I'm seeing about the deer bastard guys come on, Charlie and Vaggie are right there being an adorable badass couple who love and support each other, why isn't the Hazbin tag flooded with THEM
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bebs-art-gallery · 3 months
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𝐃𝐚𝐡𝐥𝐢𝐚
© lightbeyondtheframe
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xorax · 6 months
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I don’t know how some of you could watch blu eyed samurai and still debate Mizu’s gender like hello ??? media literacy dead ??? Mizu is a woman, that’s the whole fucking point !!!! That’s her biggest crime !!!
Eiji couldn’t care less about her heritage but he literally cut her off when she tried to confess her gender !!!!
Mikio was fine with her being half white but the moment she dared to show him that -as a woman- she was a greater fighter it was over. His ego was irreparably hurt because a woman defeated him !!!!
And he calls her a monster !!!! He calls her a monster because she’s a woman and she’s strong she’s capable she can fight she isn’t submissive and that’s the point !!!!!!!!!!!!!
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flowerandblood · 5 months
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The Fall from the Heavens
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: kissing, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, bullying, chauvinism ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
He had always felt that he lacked something. Part of him claimed that if a dragon had hatched from his egg, things would have been different, however, years later, he recognised that this was not entirely true.
Aegon had a gift for light-hearted conversation, an ironic humour that he lacked. He kept telling him to smile at last, to get his nose out of his books, that he was boring, perpetually serious and withdrawn. He preferred to spend time with Jace and Luke − they were louder and funnier than him, they understood him, they had dragons, they had what he was missing.
They didn't spare unpleasant comments even to their own sister, calling her a hamster, most likely referring to her rosy, firm cheeks and big eyes.
He could see that she was running away from them crying, but he wasn't going to comfort her. She was a girl, her world seemed to him as distant as Essos, completely incomprehensible to him, filled with beautiful gowns, embroidery and music.
The only thing they had in common was books.
They bumped into each other occasionally in the library, and although at first they simply pretended not to see one another, one day she dared to sit next to him as he looked through the family tree of their ancestors.
"What are you doing?" She asked, placing the large volume on the table in front of them with difficulty. He huffed as the dust that rose with her movement reached his nostrils, out of the corner of his eye he noticed that it was The Great History of Aegon the Conqueror.
He did not reply, turning the page of the book, not knowing why he should explain it to her.
He didn't believe her, didn't trust her, didn't want her.
She was a bastard, though she probably didn't know it herself, wallowing in riches like a princess even though she didn't deserve them.
He didn't want her pity, attention or anything else she could give him.
He didn't want to be her second choice, the place she ran to because her brothers were mean to her; he had his own, in his mind very adult, worries and he didn't want to listen to hers.
"Is this a book dedicated to our family history?" She asked softly, leaning out so that she could see what he was reading. She stood up coming closer to him and he pressed his lips together when he smelled her pleasant scent, some intense vanilla oil.
He felt a tightening and burbling in his stomach at the thought of the cake that smelled similar, which his mother had ordered to be baked for his Name Day a few months earlier.
"Ah, our family tree. Where are we?" She asked cheerfully, as if intrigued, and he sighed heavily, reluctantly flipping forward a few pages, tracing their line with his finger, showing her a place at the very end.
He swallowed loudly as he saw how Laenor Velaryon was written in the space where her father was inscribed, trying not to smile with mockery.
She leaned lower, looking at the area he had pointed at and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her cheek right next to his.
He was surprised at how different they were, apart from the obvious fact that he was a man and she was a woman.
His eyelashes were almost white and translucent and hers were black, long, surrounding her shining eyes, making them seem even bigger to him. His skin was pale, thin as parchment when hers was flushed and full of life, her lips plump and moist, her nose shapely and straight, the contour of her face gentle as his jaw was outlined sharply.
And finally, his hair, the colour of Targaryen's, the white she lacked, her luscious black curls falling gently down her back was visible proof of who her father was.
Although he liked to mock her in spirit, he couldn't say she was ugly or repulsive.
"Would you marry Helaena if our King so commanded?" She asked curiously, glancing sideways at his seated figure. He lifted his gaze to her and sighed heavily, figuring that nothing would happen if he spoke to her for a while.
She was simply bored, just like him, and he didn't get the impression that she had come to entertain herself at his expense.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Yes. I would do my duty as a Prince and son of the King." He said lowly, solemnly, fiddling between his fingers with the page of the book he had just looked at, crossing his legs − even though he was still a child, he was trying to sound and look like a man.
She cocked her head, clearly genuinely intrigued by his statement, a wide smile on her face.
"Are you in love with her?" She asked as if it was obvious, as if she was encouraging him to reveal his little secret to her. He looked at her in disbelief, not knowing what to make of her question. He swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze, feeling his heart pounding fast.
What did it matter?
"Well…she's my sister. Of course I love her." He replied coolly, feeling strange with the words on his tongue, as if there was something inappropriate about them.
"I love Jace too, but I'm not in love with him. There's a difference." She said with a kind of calmness and wisdom that surprised him; she stood beside him looking at him with a gentle expression on her face that consternated him.
Why were they even having this conversation?
Still, her words made him feel a tightness in his throat, a realisation that he understood what she meant, but didn't want to admit it.
The tenderness of falling in love, the poems and the late-night frolicking were the domain of women's imagination, which unfortunately then had to collide with the cruel reality. He was a man, however, and he had no intention of getting into these deep divagations of the weaker sex.
"Don't be naïve. Marriage is not meant to be a pleasure. It is meant to be a sacrifice for the good of the kingdom, to secure its needs." He said dryly, turning back to the page he had been reading earlier, frustrated for some reason by her remark.
She did not speak again, returning to her seat, sinking into reading the gigantic volume dedicated to Aegon the Conqueror.
Although he could have done it in his chamber, he had been coming to the library to read ever since and always met her in the same place. Although they didn't appoint themselves, they both had their assignments until midday and would turn up there to read immediately afterwards, sitting next to each other, exchanging thoughts in passing.
He was afraid that Aegon would see them one day, but fortunately he never ventured into the abyss of the library, few people went there and he felt reasonably safe.
Usually it was she who asked him questions and he was the one who answered her. He felt some sort of empowerment because of this, at last there was someone who appreciated his knowledge and rhetoric, who listened intently to his opinion.
"I would like to be like Rhaenys in the future." She said softly and he looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
"Rhaenys? What's interesting about her? Visenya could fight with a sword and she rode the largest dragon still alive in this world. If I had a choice, I would marry her." He said without thinking, recognising that it would be wonderful to have by his side a woman who could wield a sword perfectly, with a sharp tongue and temperament, who would be a born warrior like him.
He saw his niece raise an eyebrow in amusement, a sort of childlike joy on her face, her eyes shining.
"Aegon the Conqueror thought otherwise. Out of ten nights, nine he spent with Rhaenys." She said mockingly, as if immensely pleased that she could take the argument out of his hand. He pressed his lips together at her remark and shrugged his shoulders, returning to his reading.
He didn't care what men and women did at night − his mother had told him that he shouldn't bother with it for the time being, and he had decided that there was in fact no need to, until his father called on him one morning.
"− no −" He heard his mother's voice, leaning over the table where the tired King sat, looking at her as if half asleep. "− I do not agree, Viserys, it's not −"
She did not finish, hearing his footsteps and folded her arms in front of her, trying to calm herself, letting out a loud breath. His father nodded at him to come closer, which he did obediently, feeling his heart pounding hard.
His father had never yet called on him on any serious matter.
"I have just been discussing with your mother the importance of our family, of our kingdom remaining united. Although I have agreed that, according to tradition, your sister should marry your brother and not your nephew, I would like you to be the one to bring House Targaryen together anew, and that you should marry the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the future." He said calmly, with each finished sentence tapping his fingers on the table top, as if to add some finality and certainty to his words that he was convinced this was the right thing to do.
"− this is ridiculous − Aemond should secure our kingdom with a marriage to the daughter of one of the lords who can benefit us −" His mother began impatiently, her husband sighed loudly, exhausted.
"And who should receive this honour? The Starks? The Arryns? The Baratheons? No choice would be good, for someone would always feel disadvantaged. Marriage within the family will not outrage anyone on the outside, and will only strengthen what has been strained." He said with conviction; the Queen swallowed hard, shaking her head, finally looking at him as if she was certain he abhorred the idea as much as she did.
"− Aemond, you don't have to agree −" She said in a trembling voice, and he swallowed hard, looking at the stone floor beneath his feet, feeling his heart pounding hard.
Bastard or not, the dragon's blood flowed in her, as it did in him. She didn't despise or mistreat him. She knew what duty and obligation meant.
He reasoned that although he would have preferred to have a female warrior by his side, in fact the idea of marrying her did not reject him. He preferred her to the daughter of some common lord.
In his own way, he even liked her.
He grunted, feeling proud to rise to the occasion and fulfil his father's desire.
"If it is my King's wish, I will marry her, for the sake of the kingdom and our family." He said lowly, looking him straight in the eyes, standing upright, his hands folded in front of him.
He felt a tightening in his throat as his father smiled at him sincerely, for the first and last time in his life.
"So it's decided."
He didn't know how the message had been conveyed to his betrothed, however he could see by the look on her face as she ran into the library, all red with emotion, that someone had made her aware of what had happened and he felt a twist in his stomach.
He was afraid she would make it clear to him that she didn't want him, that she abhorred him, that she had no intention of marrying a man who didn't have a dragon of his own.
As she approached him however her eyes sparkled, she laughed as if she didn't believe it.
"Is it true?" She asked breathing loudly and he swallowed hard, nodding his head, looking at her with wide eyes.
"I'm so happy." She giggled sweetly, warmly, covering her mouth with her hand, as if someone had just given her a wonderful surprise.
He felt some kind of heat in his chest, an affection towards her, a gratitude for her faithfulness, for her devotion, for the fact that she respected him.
He was shocked to think that she would make a good wife.
Aegon laughed at him, not understanding where his lack of objection came from, how he could think that good had happened.
"She doesn't even have an arse or tits." He sneered and he clenched his jaw, wrinkling his brow, looking at him over his shoulder.
"Shut your mouth. Don't speak about her this way." He growled, feeling that her good name was now his as well, and that he had to protect her.
Aegon snorted, shaking his head, patting him on the back piteously.
"My little brother fell in love with Lady Strong?" He asked, forcing himself into a sweet, mocking tone as if he were speaking to a small child, which angered him even more. He slammed his head against his forehead, and he swore in pain, staggering backwards, catching the table, which fell over with him.
"You fucking bastard!" He shouted throwing himself at him, and they began to pound each other with their fists, wrestling with each other on the floor, until, hearing the commotion, a servant girl rushed into his chamber, trying to separate them.
His future wife visited him in his chamber that day, concerned that he had not appeared in the library, raising her eyebrows in simultaneous concern and amusement as she saw him holding an ice cube to his red cheek, a large bruise under his eye.
"What's happened?" She asked as she was accustomed to, without any pleasantries, approaching him sitting in a chair that was, however, too big and his legs did not reach the ground. He just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders without answering.
He had no intention of revealing what had caused the fight − he wasn't going to appear to her as a prince on a white horse who would worship and adore her, as in all those poems she had surely read.
"Does it hurt a lot?" She asked further, and he shook his head. She sighed heavily, taking a single lemon cake from the pocket of her bottom gown, placing it in front of him.
"I know the Queen only allows you to eat sweets after your weekly visit to the Great Sept, but I stole one for you anyway. As a consolation." She said proudly, and he nodded, lifting his gaze to her, involuntarily feeling grateful.
She cared for him without wanting anything in return.
Since they were betrothed, she hadn't asked him for solitary walks, gifts, confessions of love or anything else a lady of her status might desire from the man she was to marry.
"Thank you." He replied calmly, recognising that he could give her at least that much.
She looked around his chamber and he realised that she was in it for the first time in her life. He stood up, setting the ice sack down in the bowl, walking over to his bookshelf, a gift to him from his mother.
"If you wish, I can lend you some. Just pick which one." He said softly, coming to the conclusion that he wanted to be kind to her, that he wanted her to have no regrets about him becoming her husband, to be proud of it.
She looked at him gratefully and took out a book written by the ancient philosopher, Areon, dissecting human dignity and duty. Something about her choice pleased him, the thought that she wanted to understand him.
She pressed the book to her heart and looked at him, her eyes seemed even bigger to him than usual, her beautiful long eyelashes, hair and plump lips shone in the summer light of the day.
He felt a pleasant tickle in his lower abdomen watching her without saying a word.
"Can I kiss you?" She asked so quietly that for a moment he thought he had overheard himself; he felt his whole body tense up, his pupils dilate in disbelief, his breathing quicken, his fingers involuntarily rubbing against each other in a subconscious nervous reflex.
Oh gods.
Should they be doing this?
Was this the right thing to do?
She was supposed to be his wife. From what he understood, husbands and wives did this, as a kind of union and intimacy.
He swallowed loudly, looking at her lips, thinking they looked pleasantly warm and soft; a shiver went through him at the thought that he could feel them in a moment if he wanted to.
He nodded his head.
He watched her vigilantly, involuntarily breathing through his mouth as she stepped closer to him; he was taller than her and leaned in slightly, wanting to make her task easier.
She surprised him when she suddenly lifted up on her tiptoes and her lips pressed against his in a warm, innocent kiss − he felt like his heart had stopped for a moment, the scent of vanilla filled his lungs, her skin delightfully moist and soft.
It felt so pleasant.
She pulled away from him immediately, all red as he was, breathing hard, as if it took a lot of effort and courage from her too, her eyes looked at him dreamy, as if she was waiting for his reaction, but he was unable to get anything out.
"One more time." It came out of him like a weak whisper, like a plea through which he felt the shame overpowering him.
For the first time, someone wanted him.
She smiled before rising on her toes again, this time placing a hand on his shoulders for balance − she pressed her fleshy, moist lips to his for a longer time and sighed softly as he touched her cheek, wonderfully soft and warm. She pulled away from him and closed her eyes feeling him stroke her skin with his thumb, he pressed his forehead against hers, feeling butterflies in his stomach.
"Will you come to me at night?"
He had nightmares most of the time at night − usually dreams in which he saw anew the pig that his brother and nephews had introduced to him as his dragon, humiliating him as no one had ever done before. He found that her presence calmed him and that perhaps if she slept in the same bed, he would finally get some rest.
He didn't think about the fact that it might have been at least inappropriate in the eyes of others when under the cover of night she snuck into his chamber, slipping under the thick furs beside him, snuggling up to him. In his mind she was already his wife, and wives slept with their husbands − unless it was his parents.
They lay that night looking at each other with their foreheads pressed together, stroking each other's cheeks, their wordless, innocent confession of affection and need for closeness.
"We are going to have seven children." He stated after some thought, as if he had decided that such a number would satisfy him. He wanted his family to be strong and broad, and also seven were gods, so it had symbolic meaning as well.
She blinked, as if something troubled her in his words, furrowing her brow.
"My mother gets very tired during childbirth and then can't get up for a few days. With the rest, how do we do it?" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders.
He had never delved into the ins and outs of the pleasures of the flesh too much − Aegon had said that rapprochements with women were very pleasurable and, as he understood, that was why he couldn't pull away from them, to him, however, what he had was enough.
"We'll find out everything when we're older. Do not fret." He said with certainty, stroking her soft, plump cheek with his thumb and she cheered up, he saw the sparkle in her gaze before her lips stole a soft, warm kiss from him again.
He smiled at the thought that he felt that in her eyes he was a man, the head of their future family.
There had been times when he had forgotten who she was, who her father was, her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the sweet kisses she bestowed on him when they were alone made him think it didn't matter anymore.
Years later, he could not believe how wrong he was.
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Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
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cynthiyaayaana · 10 months
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kweza · 6 months
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my main gripe with modernized period dramas is how they awkwardly superimpose modern standards on their female characters. because why am i watching the first episode of the buccaneers (2023) and the main girl acts shocked at how London society behaves. you live in 1870s america. women can't even vote yet. nothing's different there. get it together girlie.
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wylans-flute · 6 months
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I think the main difference between Katniss and Lucy Gray that people need to realise, is that with Katniss they made a fighter, perform. Whereas with Lucy Gray they made a performer, fight.
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becomingvecna · 2 months
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© slutfocate
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People love to compare Roy and Bradley or Ling and Wrath, but I think there is a special beauty in the narrative parallels between Riza and Winry.
Because these woman manage to break out of the Shounen mold in a way that reaches beyond the Strong Female Character trope and quickly secures itself as... good character writing. Period.
And they do so in a very clever way. Someone else on here once pointed out that Hughes/Mustang/Hawkeye are the trio that runs parallel to Ed/Al/Winry and while they aren't narrative foils to each other - at least not in the way many of the other characters are - they do present a similar function within the story. The three young people who went on an adventure. Only Hughes died and Riza and Roy were permanently altered - and Ed, Al, and Winry got a chance to save the world.
But especially when it comes to Riza and Winry there is something more to the comparison. Especially when it comes down to the choices they made.
But why are Riza and Winry more interesting?
Because when Roy recruits Ed and Al, Riza tells Winry that she followed Roy into the military because she had someone to protect - and this - in other stories - would clearly be a setup for Winry later following Ed and Al into the military to "protect" them. A direct parallel between the two "girls" in a Shounen trio. We've all seen it before.
And I think we see Winry play with that thought when she sticks around Central with them after her first apprenticeship in Rush Valley - she tries to be the third girl to Ed and Al's action duo… but it doesn't work out.
She - strong, clever, genius, confidant Winry Rockbell - suddenly feels weak. Because she can't punch danger away from Ed. She can't repair Al's scratches and dents. She can't kill Scar to save her friends and avenge her family. She can't learn how to shoot and kill just to protect her friends - no, that's not quite correct, is it? She won't. She won't learn how to kill.
And that sucks. Because Winry isn't used to feeling like that, so lost and insecure, at least not constantly. Yeah, when Ed and Al are away, she worries, and that's part of the reason why she tried to join in, but that is nothing compared to the powerlessness she's facing now. Maybe she would worry less if she could be there when they fight, if she could protect them like Riza does with Mustang… but that's just not who she is.
Her job isn't to protect Ed and Al - her job is to give people arms and legs and good costumer service. I really like that scene/episode (23, me thinks) where she gets a phone call from Rush Valley and all these people ask for her to come back. Because Yes, Ed telling her thanks for helping him is VERY important for her character… and yet I think this phone call is the moment Winry realizes that she's not Riza. That she won't take a gun into her hands and kill for Ed and Al.
She will never be Armstrong or Hawkeye or even Izumi… she will be Winry Rockbell, automail engineer and genius.
And that's the reason why only she could have pulled Scar on their side. Because she chose healing over killing - her telling Scar in Baschool that she'd save his life because her parents would want her to honor their choice? That was Winry following the deeper themes of the show, by adding positive energy to the flow of the universe.
Riza saving Scar? Wouldn't have worked (why would he listen to the woman with a gun in her hands?). Armstrong helping Scar? Wouldn't have happened (what reason would General Armstrong have at this point to spare a murderer?). Mei saving Scar? Would have ended with the Ed/Marcoh/Scar/Al alliance falling apart (it is so much easier to fall apart if no one has been forced to see past the horror yet).
And it's not because these characters were even a touch less well written than Winry - if anything it showcases how unique all of the female characters in FMA were/are.
In this we find Riza again - because Riza chose differently than Winry. She followed Roy into the military, she learned and perfected how to shoot and kill. Their narratives mirror each other - Ed carefully prying a gun out of Winry's hands so she doesn't kill, only to give Riza a bloody gun a few episodes later, knowing she will clean it and use it to kill.
When Riza tells us that she has lost the right to feel squeamish about killing because of often she'd pulled the trigger, she is Winry's foil - Winry who was stopped before she could make a similar choice.
And it's not just that, is it?
Riza let her hair grow because a young Winry Rockbell had long hair and seemed to like it - and Riza needed a change after coming back from Ishval.
Winry got her ears pierced because the strong Lieutenant visiting them had looked cool (and because she needed a place for all of Ed's little gifts) - and Winry needed something steadfast, now that her friends were growing up.
There's just something about the two of them, so similar, so loyal and stubborn and full of love, that fascinates me. Because at every turn they make a different choice, at each turn one walks deeper into hell and the other chooses healing - and yet, while they couldn't be more different, they also couldn't be any closer.
I can't imagine how glad Riza was, when she realized Winry hadn't followed Ed and Al into the military.
I can only guess how happy Winry was, when she saw Riza follow Mustang further if only to make sure the future actually changed.
A mirror doesn't have to be a perfect thing, and if anything I think that is on purpose.
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jasontoddssuper · 6 months
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"Potraying Dick as a huge slut who's always getting put into fanservice is actually progressive because it normalizes casual sex and is gender equality because female characters get potrayed that way too!!!"I mean sure but i feel like we could prove those same points with a male character who's NOT a multiple time r*pe survivor of color that's gotten victim blamed for at least one his assault's and has been coded as demisexual with a discomfort towards sexual looseness for himself since the 80s anyway
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Maybe a hot take....
But Katniss Everdeen having children and being married isn't agasint feminism. It's representing a kind of woman certein circles of feminism don't consider feminist.
Females wanting to be mothers and wives, and being extreamly HAPPY with that life is (or at least SHOULD be) extreamly feminist. JUST AS MUCH as woman wanting careers, or to be warriors, or leaders. The only way it's NOT is if it is potrayed one of these paths are the ONLY thing woman should want/can acomplish.
Katniss is able to choose the life that brings her joy and happyness as she works to heal. And that choice is backed up by many things in text that show that, given her own say in anything, she'd want a world where she can have these things.
That, to me, is FAR MORE feminist that half of the more recent "strong female characters" and I said what I said.
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bebs-art-gallery · 1 month
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by majara__
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foxylady13 · 13 days
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"I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break me." & "Our stories are worth telling" - Gwyneth Bedara
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Art is by ttsukinoie
This woman is freaking amazing and badass.
She saved the children at Sangravah even though it led to horrific trauma for her. Trauma she is still learning to heal from.
She spent two years in the library slowly healing and braved the outside world to become the first Valkyrie to be rebirthed. Her putting her name first on the training sign up sheet showed incredible bravery and strength that led to other priestesses joining the training. What a moment!
She braved the outside world to be by Nesta side in a moment Nesta needed her friends the most.
She displayed skills of spying when she was in the tree for two days watching the beasts and learning their movements and led them to the men's camp.
She told Nesta and Emerie to cut the bridge down to save them knowing what it would mean for her once the men got to her.
She participated in the Great Rite & won to become one of the first Carythian women in history 🏆
Her story is far from over. In fact, it's just beginning and I can not wait to see more of her and what all else she will and can do.
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flowerandblood · 1 month
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The Fall from the Heavens (16)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, dirty talk, breeding kink, description of wounds and trauma, remorse ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
He remembered little of their journey back to King's Landing; it seemed to him that his conversation with Daemon, and before that with Aegon, had been a dream, and that it had all not really happened. Throughout the journey, he kept his cheek pressed against his wife's temple, feeling great relief but also fear.
He was sure she would run away.
He was sure she would let him down again, and some part of him wished she would.
Why?
When they reappeared in the Red Keep there were only a few hours left until dawn; he instructed his guards to convey to his brother as soon as he woke up, that he should call a meeting of the Small Council where he would be able to give a brief report of what had happened.
Afterwards, he and his wife both retired to his chamber, stripping out of their riding attire, speechless and exhausted. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, feeling a tightness in his throat, wondering why he felt tense, why he was not rejoicing.
He swallowed loudly as he realised that he had expected a betrayal on her part, because it would make things a lot easier for him.
He could then turn his back on her and her family once and for all, shed his illusions, become who he had been for eight years again.
It frightened him that now, when it was obvious that she had proved her loyalty to him, that she had chosen him at last, so many things remained unsaid, silenced, repressed.
He felt her uncertain gaze on him as she stayed in just her nightgown, heard his bed creak quietly under the weight of her body.
"My love?" He heard her soft voice and grunted, staying in only his breeches and linen shirt.
She twisted towards him as he lay down beside her on his back, placing his hands on his stomach, sighing heavily with exhaustion.
He shuddered when he felt her warm, soft hand on his – their fingers began to trail and rub against each other in the air, just like when she had come to him that first night after many years of separation.
"Speak to me, Aemond. Don't lock yourself in your mind." She said calmly; something in her words, in the fact that she sensed his anxiety made him swallow loudly, opening and closing his mouth several times, unable to get anything out. He finally shook his head, closing his eyes, deciding there was no point.
"Say it. Say all the things you've always wanted to say to me. Even if those words will only cause me pain. I want to know."
He opened his eyes, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad, a shiver ran along his spine.
"I will never understand how could you leave me then." He finally said in a voice filled with regret and venom – he felt her twist next to him restlessly, drawing in air loudly.
He didn't look at her, but he felt her hand tighten on his.
"That was never my intention."
"Then why?"
"My mother then told me to let you rest and calm down. That the guards wouldn't let me visit you anyway by order of the Queen."
"What a nonsense."
"I am speaking the truth. When I wanted to pay you a visit a few days later, Criston Cole sent me away."
He felt his heart stop at those words; his whole body tensed, his breath stuck in his throat as he finally looked at her with wide-eyed expression.
"What?"
He felt her thumb stroke his palm, her eyes looking at him pleadingly.
"I swear, five days after what happened, I came to pay you a visit. I came every day after that, but he always sent me away. He said you didn't want to see me." She mumbled, and he snorted in disbelief and amusement, shaking his head. He looked at her in shock, wanting to see anything in her face that could confirm that she was lying.
He swallowed hard, embittered, leaning the back of his head against the back of the bed.
"It doesn't matter. I needed you when it happened."
"I needed you too. When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother's guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that's how you felt." She said with weariness, sadness and indifference from which he felt an unpleasant squeeze in his stomach; he felt his lips part involuntarily, a hot, overpowering wave of shame surge through his body.
They stared at each other for a moment in silence, just breathing, not moving or saying anything, her hand still on his, warmth and reassurance in her touch.
For the first time in eight years, they spoke honestly about what had happened.
"Why didn't you ever write me back?" She asked at last, her voice trembling slightly, as if the very thought of it made tears of regret rise in the corners of her eyes.
He clamped his eyelids shut, sighing heavily, this time it was his fingers that stroked her hand.
"I've tried. I tried so many times. But I was unable to fill the parchment because no words seemed to describe what I was feeling. I couldn't put my thoughts into sentences. Everything that came out from under my hand was the ramblings of a madman and ended up burning in the fire. Then it was too late. I didn't see the point." He said, not believing that these words had left his mouth; he glanced at her uncertainly out of the corner of his eye, a single, solitary tear ran down the side of her face.
"You didn't even let me explain myself. You didn't give me a chance despite the fact that I've never let you down before." She muttered, and he swallowed loudly, feeling an unbearable tightness in his throat.
"I know."
He took his hand from her grasp and put his arm around her – her body immediately clung to his, entwining with his like a vine, her face sunk into the hollow of his neck, his hand roaming lazily down her back while his lips placed warm, lingering kisses on the top of her head.
They fell asleep for the few hours separating them from dawn in their tight embrace, not like lovers, but like they used to when they were children, holding hands, their foreheads touching.
He felt how, as she awoke, her fingers stroked his cheek gently, her lips placed a warm, soft kiss on his, which he reciprocated with a low murmur of satisfaction, without even opening his eyes.
For the first time in eight years, he felt at peace.
For the first time in eight years, he felt relief.
His closest friend was by his side again.
They were both just dreaming of sleeping on when Criston Cole walked into his chamber announcing that the King had called an immediate meeting of the Small Council in accordance with his wishes.
He sighed heavily, rising slowly from his bed, ordering his servants to prepare a suitable tunic for him. He turned, looking at her over his shoulder, his broad hand stroking her bare calf with a soft, lazy gesture.
"Accompany me. Be by my side."
The sight of her walking behind him as the door of the chamber in which all those gathered sat opened before them did not satisfy his grandfather or his mother.
He pretended not to see their warning glances, instead ordering one of the servants standing nearby to place a second chair right next to his, where he took his seat, placing his sapphire ball in a niche in the stone table.
"Speak, brother." Aegon began without undue politeness or introduction. His mother, his grandfather and Criston Cole were all opposed to their idea, however Lord Lannister and the other houses supporting them were far more accepting of the news that perhaps the whole matter of succession would be resolved without a bloody, kingdom-destroying war.
"Our uncle is as brazen as I remember him to be, however, despite his misgivings, he has not declined our offer. He will certainly pass on our words to our sister. We must wait." He replied truthfully; his mother sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands.
"What if no son is born to you, Aemond? If it is officially the sons of Rheanyra and Daemon who become heirs, they will kill us all for treason." She said with impatience, grief and horror – he opened his mouth to reply, however his wife forestalled him.
"You may have killed the child in my womb who could have been the heir we so need now. We will never know, will we?" She sneered, and he felt an unpleasant shiver run down his back.
His hand clenched into a fist at the mere memory of what had happened and what she had done next. He looked at his wife's face out of the corner of his eye and swallowed hard, seeing in her expression strenght, determination and confidence.
Just what he needed.
Complete silence fell, his mother lowered her head, pressing her lips into a thin line.
"As I said, we have to wait. We have done what we could."
The fact that Aegon had agreed to try to come to an agreement over the succession did not mean that either of them were going to give up preparing for a possible war, so they spent the rest of the meeting discussing what they would do if that plan failed. The King then asked his wife to leave; she rose and left without a word, touching his shoulder with her hand beforehand.
Something had changed between them, he could feel it.
As he watched the door close behind her, he realised that after she had decided to come back with him instead of running away with Daemon, after what he had confessed to her the wall that had been piling up between them since the night he had tamed Vhagar had finally collapsed.
When he returned to his quarters he did not find her there, so he headed for her chamber, informing the guards that no one was to disturb them. As he stepped inside he noticed her figure sitting by the window, bent over the embroidery of the Arryn family crest; the sun was beaming down on her face, he could feel a pleasant summer breeze all around her.
She lifted her gaze to him and smiled in a way he knew, one he remembered well from when they were children; what touched him in that look, in that smile, was the confirmation that she felt the same as he did, that she knew that something had finally changed between them, had set in on the right track.
He approached her slowly, involuntarily extending his hand towards her cheek; he watched as she pressed her face into his skin rough from holding the sword and sighed quietly as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his palm.
Gods, how he loved her.
He took the cloth from her hand and set it aside, grabbing her waist and lifting her, seating her in front of him on the top of the old wooden table. She stared at him with her eyes wide open, surprised, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath, betraying her uncertainty and excitement; he took a step towards her, so that their faces were almost touching, cupping her cheek in his palms, so soft, so warm.
She smelled of vanilla.
He looked at her, at her bright, warm gaze, at her gentle face, which had so much of that childishness of many years ago in it, while being more mature, more girlish, more tempting; her dark lashes shone in the sunlight as she closed her eyelids feeling his thumb run slowly over her fleshy, moist lower lip.
She was his wife.
What he wanted had truly come true.
She stood before him again, his childhood friend, his lover.
"Rheanys." He whispered and she opened her eyes, looking at him in disbelief; he saw her cheeks flush, her body trembled all over with delight. She raised her hand and he moved away immediately, horrified when he realised she wanted to grab his black eye patch.
"No."
"You're my husband. That's enough." She said regretfully and tiredly, taking his face in her hands. He looked down at her, breathing heavily, his eyebrows arched in uncertainty, in shame, in fear.
"Don't spoil this beautiful day for me." He said at last in a low, hoarse voice. She pressed her lips together as if his words caused her pain, her fingers sliding down his jaw, dropping powerlessly.
"One step forward, two steps back." She said softly, and he swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in his throat at her words. He sighed loudly through his nose, licking his lower lip with his tongue, fighting with himself.
He didn't know what had happened, what had changed, what had brought him to reach up to his face, to grab his eye patch and pull it off with a sudden, aggressive movement, throwing it impatiently to the ground.
He saw her raise her shoulders high, frightened by his sudden gesture, her lips parted in disbelief, her pupils narrowed as she looked straight at him. He expected her to turn her face away at this sight, to betray herself with a stare full of disgust or fear, but instead her eyes turned red from the tears that had gathered in their corners.
"Come." She whispered, grabbing the material of his tunic with her hand, pulling him closer; he involuntarily took a few steps forward, shocked by her reaction, by her expression, as if what she had seen had moved her greatly, but not in the way he had expected. "Come here."
Her hand lifted higher, to his cheek – he closed his eyes, feeling his whole body freeze as her fingers ran gently over the line along which his scar ran.
"Oh, my dearest, you must have suffered so much. It must have caused you so much pain. For so many, so many months, you must have died every day. Forgive me." She mumbled out in a trembling, breaking voice, from which he pressed his lips together, himself touched for some reason, embittered and grateful at the same time, because for so long he had been waiting for that very look, that very touch and those words from her, just from her.
She kissed him in a way she had never done before – it was neither a child's kiss nor a lover's kiss; it was a caress full of warmth, moisture and care, a tenderness from which he involuntarily closed her in his arms, leaning lower to press himself tighter to her swollen lips.
Their mouths brushed each other lazily, slowly, unhurriedly, as if they had all the time in the world, their hands stroking each other's faces with gentle, calm movements, birdsong all around them, the loud conversations in the courtyard coming from behind the open window and the quiet, sticky clicks of their saliva.
He felt himself shudder each time his lips pressed against hers again, their arms holding them close together, his lungs filling with her scent.
Vanilla.
His manhood slowly began to swell and throb from those wonderfully this innocent caresses full of promise, something they hadn't done before but so desperately needed.
"Make love to me." He whispered into her mouth; she moaned softly, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, forcing them to join together again in a hot, lazy kiss, which he did eagerly.
Only after a moment did their tongues come out to meet each other, their tips beginning to lick teasingly making them both breathe louder; his hands slid lower to her gown, lifting its material higher, exposing her wonderfully soft, bare thighs.
He let her take care of him, undoing the buckles of his tunic and the tying of his breeches as he kissed with emotion her forehead, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her temple.
She was his.
It seemed to him that they had gone back in time, to that day when she had kissed him for the first time.
As if what they were doing now was an extension of that moment.
"Do you think we would have persevered until marriage? With staying in chastity." He gasped, sighing quietly in relief when her skilled fingers finally released his desire-sore manhood, his arm drawing her closer as her thighs spread eagerly before him.
He heard her giggle softly, when he lifted his gaze to her he saw pure joy, warmth and love in her eyes, exactly as they had been then, that day.
"If you want, you can believe it, uncle." She replied tauntingly, just as she always did, just as in his fantasies; he snorted at the thought, sinking his hand into her warm womanhood, already leaking with desire. She tilted her head back, sighing with pleasure as his fingertips ran over her throbbing, moist slit.
"What do you imagine would happen?" He continued on, teasing her with the movements of his finger, which slid a little between her tight, wet muscles, pushing them apart, rubbing her rough bud hidden just above her opening. A soft, sweet moan came from her lips as she swallowed loudly, looking up at him from under half-closed eyelids.
"One night, when I would visit you in your chamber, we would begin to touch. Innocently at first, but eventually you would understand what it feels like to clamp your fingers on the soft breast of your beloved woman. You would understand what pleasure lies deep between my thighs." She cooed sweetly; he gasped loudly, embarrassed by how hard his cock pulsed at her words, which did not escape her attention.
"You'd say you wish to feel me just for a moment −" She whispered, with a gentle flick of her hand directing his swollen, hard length between her thighs; they both moaned quietly as he began to push against her and opened her wide on the thick head of his cock with a soft, firm thrust of his hips. "− but we would both know it was a simple lie, spoken only to make us feel less guilty."
A throaty, low groan escaped his lips at that thought; his hands clamped down on her buttocks covered by the material of her gown, with a deep thrust of his hips forcing her to let him inside her. She whimpered, panting heavily along with him, looking at him with her mouth wide open, as if she didn't recognise him.
She put her hand around the back of his neck, the other resting on the table top, trying to catch her balance as he began to root into her with slow, lazy thrusts, sliding out of her almost all the way, only to sink back between her warm, moist muscles a moment later.
"− Aemond −" She mewled, closing her eyes, responding involuntarily with the rocking of her hips to his treatments – it seemed to him that they were both in a state of some kind of ecstasy that nevertheless had more to do with what they had shared when they were children than now, when they were united by fire and blood.
"− and what would you do? − hm? − what would you do if I put it inside you and told you I wouldn't stop until I filled you? −" He breathed out, involuntarily quickening his pace; she moaned pleadingly at his shameless question, her fleshy, hot core clenched tightly around his erection, sucking it inside her, their bodies slapping against each other with loud smacks of skin against skin.
"− I would beg for your seed −" She mumbled out; his hand tightened on her hair at her words, his lips clinging to hers in a greedy, hot kiss full of their tongues and saliva, in a caress not filled with hatred and aggression but pure, hot desire.
"− so fucking beg −" He growled into her mouth between their quick, loud kisses, their lips with a sticky click clinging and pulling away from each other as their bodies found their own pace to pleasure, his thick cock pulsing with desire slamming into her so deep and fast that he seemed to run out of breath, her cheeks and lips all pink with exertion.
"− please, uncle − put your heir inside me −" She whimpered helplessly and that was enough for him – he pressed his forehead against hers, panting loudly, holding her close in a strong embrace in his arms, with a few sloppy, sticky thrusts prolonging the inevitable to finally spill deep inside her. He feel a powerful orgasm shake her body, her head tilted back with a sweet cry of pleasure.
"− yes − yes, oh, gods, uncle, fill me −" She mumbled, her hands drawing him back to her mouth, their lips devouring each other in fierce, moist kisses as the last drops of his spend filled her womb. They both rocked their hips for a while longer with loud clicks of her wetness, panting quietly as they tried to calm their breathing, their hands roaming over their bodies, their eyes closed, focused only on the relief they both felt.
"− this is how I always imagined us − you and me when we were married −" She whispered, and he sighed, understanding what she meant.
Though united by passionate affection, regret, distrust and grief dominated their every approach.
"− my wife begging for my seed is indeed an important part of my vision of a perfect marriage −" He sneered, noticing the amusement in her eyes when she understood that he was teasing her.
That he had returned to her, that she had won him back, that she was looking at the boy she had lost that night.
Her lips parted in disbelief when she noticed that the corner of his mouth lifted upwards, gently, not mockingly, not maliciously.
He smiled.
For the first time in so many years.
He stroked her cheek with his hand as her eyebrows arched in pain, as her eyes glazed over from the tears that ran down her face one by one onto his warm palm.
They kissed again, then again and again, warmly, tenderly, innocently, devotedly, with the affection he had dreamed of for so many years and he thought, hiding this realisation deep in his heart, that this was the happiest day of his life.
The day he got his best friend back.
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kckt88 · 2 months
Text
The Lost Dragon I - Ensnared.
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Summary:
The Greens have repudiated the sucession and ursurped the Iron Throne. After encounting her uncle Aemond at Storms End, he kindaps Vaelys and takes her too Kings Landing - to be used as leverage against her mother.
Whilst the Greens delight in their good fortune, they fail to realise the depths of Aemond's growing feelings for Vaelys and how her presence will ultimately change the outcome of the Dance of Dragons.
Warning(s): Kidnapping, Language, Threats, Angst, Uncle/Niece Incest, Witnessed Consummation, Smut – Fingering, P in V.
AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word Count: 4280
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.
“You’re lucky you didn’t kill her-how could you be so foolish” snapped Alicent.
"You only lost one eye-how could you be so blind?"
“Her dragon attacked Vhagar-“ reasoned Aemond.
“What does it matter? We have Rhaenyra’s eldest bastard in our clutches, she could prove useful,” said Aegon shrugging.
“Once Rhaenyra discovers that we have her daughter, neither she nor Daemon will rest until Vaelys is returned to them-for all we know they could descend from the skies on their dragons at any moment” urged Alicent picking nervously at her nails.
“I doubt it-None of their dragons are a match for Vhagar“ scoffed Aemond.
“Vhagar may indeed be the largest dragon in the world but even she cannot withstand a combined attack from the dragons they have-you would do well to remember that boy” said Otto sternly.
“What do you suggest?” asked Aemond through gritted teeth.
“We have the girl-we should use her to our advantage. Rhaenyra would not dare attack Kings Landing for fear of her daughters safety” explained Otto.
“Where is my niece currently?” asked Aegon.
“She was taken to the Black Cells Your Grace-“ replied Ser Criston.
“I want her brought here at once-” ordered Aegon, the crown of the conqueror slipping down his forehead.
A small group of guards shuffled out of the throne room and returned a little while later with a thoroughly drenched and bleeding Vaelys Targaryen, her wrists bound together in chains.
"Seven above-have mercy on us" muttered Alicent.
“Welcome back to Kings Landing-“ said Aegon smirking.
“I wish I could it’s nice to be back” replied Vaelys wiping her nose on her tattered sleeve.
The sound of the chains clinking echoed around the throne room.
“My deepest sympathies on the loss of your dragon” said Aegon smugly.
“You can shove your sympathy right up your arse” sneered Vaelys.
“I don’t think your language is very ladylike”.
“Like I care what you think-“ quipped Vaelys.
“I would see you bow before your King” demanded Aegon.
"King? I see no King" snarked Vaelys as she lifted her hand to her forehead and began to look around the throne room.
"I said BOW TO YOUR KING" balled Aegon.
“I bow before no King. All I see is a drunken, usurper CUNT” snarled Vaelys spitting on the floor.
“The bastard dares speak to me in such a manner” roared Aegon.
“I will speak however I please, you will not silence me you drunken wastrel-” quipped Vaelys.
“Mayhaps I should teach the bastard some respect-”.
“-I’m more Targaryen than you will ever be” snapped Vaelys.
“The bastard thinks herself more than a King” said Aegon.
“You look down your nose at me yet you’re nothing more than a half breed. Your dragons blood diluted with that of the Hightower, your nothing but a slithering green snake masquerading as a dragon”.
“Says the strong bastard” raged Aegon.
“I’m not some strong bastard who was lucky enough to favour my mother’s colouring, I am the daughter of the rogue prince himself, Daemon Targaryen” confessed Vaelys.
“WHAT?” exclaimed Alicent.
“Oh please-like you didn’t suspect such a thing” snarked Vaelys.
“How?” asked Alicent.
“On my mother’s wedding night to Ser Laenor-she lay with Daemon” replied Vaelys.
“So, you openly admit that your mother betrayed her marriage to Ser Laenor?” asked Otto.
“Can it be considered betrayal if he gave his permission?” retorted Vaelys.
“He-what?”
“Oh, come on-you know that Laenor only sought the attention of his squires, he couldn’t consummate the marriage, especially when he’d just witnessed the brutal and unnecessary murder of his beloved Joffrey at the hands of your own sworn protector-so of course Daemon was only too happy to volunteer his services” said Vaelys glaring at Ser Criston who narrowed his eyes at her.
“-And your mother was only too happy to accept” snapped Alicent.
“Surely your aware of first night rights-“
“-And what excuse can be conjured for existence of your brothers?” asked Alicent.
“-What do you intend to do with the girl Your Grace?” asked Otto, his patience wearing thin.
“We could always offer her to any of the noble lords who bend the knee and pledge their loyalty to me” mused Aegon, ignoring the look of horror plastered across the faces of his mother and grandsire.
Aemond took a deep breath and folded his arms behind his back, his gaze never leaving his brother.
“We could even leave her chained up in the throne room and they could take turns with her. How many cocks do you think she could she take before she breaks?” said Aegon.
“Your Grace-she is still a Princess of the realm” warned Otto.
“Wed her to me” offered Aemond.
“-And why would I allow such a thing to take place?” asked Aegon.
“I brought her here. She belongs to me-” replied Aemond.
“-And that’s enough of a reason?”
“If not, then mayhaps the prevention of her marriage to Cregan Stark is” said Aemond firmly.
“Stark?” asked Otto.
“Borros Baratheon inquired about her hand in marriage-he seemed interested in taking her to wife, boldly declaring that she would give him many sons, but she refused. It seems her bastard brother has flown to Winterfell and delivered terms in exchange for his support” said Aemond.
“We cannot allow such a match-if Stark honours his father’s oath and bends the knee the rest of the North will follow, we must intervene if we are too secure-“ urged Otto.
“-There isn’t a Stark alive that’s ever broken an oath-you’ve already lost the North and my grandmother was an Arryn, the Eyrie won’t turn against their kin-” said Vaelys smirking.
“-But we still have you” declared Aegon boldly.
“Your Grace-“ questioned Otto.
“-As you were saying brother-you believe that she belongs to you?” mused Aegon.
“There is a debt to be paid and I will take her as payment for the eye her bastard brother carved from my skull”.
“Her maiden head in exchange for your eye? Assuming of course that she is still a maid, after all she is the daughter of a whore” quipped Aegon smirking.
"The only whore I see is YOU" yelled Vaelys.
"Hold your tongue-or I will have it removed" snarled Aegon.
Vaelys was about to answer back, but then she caught Aemond's eye, and he discreetly shook his head.
Deciding it was better to keep quiet, Vaelys lowered her gaze to the floor.
“I will have her as my wife and I will take what is mine” said Aemond, his voice firm and unwavering.
“And when her maidens blood stains your cock. What then?” asked Aegon.
“She will still have her uses” replied Aemond firmly.
“Very well brother. You may take her to wife” said Aegon smirking at the look on Vaelys’ face.
“Your Grace, Aemond has already agreed to marry one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters, he pledged his support to you based on that promise” urged Alicent.
“Offer Daeron’s hand instead. I don’t really think it matters which Prince marries his daughter” replied Aegon shrugging.
“But Your Grace-“ said Alicent.
“-My brother’s debt will be paid” said Aegon firmly.
Just as Alicent was about to respond, her father shook his head and she sighed despondently, Aegon had clearly made his mind up and now her favoured son would be stuck with a bastard for a bride instead of someone more worthy of his station.
“If some of the lords who have declared for Rhaenyra see that her daughter is wed to Aemond, we may be able to sway them to our side” said Otto thoughtfully.
“Exactly-now take your bastard Aemond and see that she is made presentable-you will wed on the morrow, mother will make the arrangements” ordered Aegon.
“Your Grace” muttered Alicent through gritted teeth.
“YOU-“ snapped Vaelys taking a step forward only to be stopped by Aemond.
“Ser Arryk-Escort my betrothed to her temporary chambers, ensure that she is bathed, and that cut is taken care of” said Aemond sternly.
“Yes, my Prince” replied Ser Arryk.
“You may also want to have the chains removed as well?” suggested Otto.
“Hmm” rasped Aemond.
“Cunt” snapped Vaelys.
“Careful niece-come tomorrow, my brother will have other uses for that mouth of yours” said Aegon smirking.
“Then he will find himself without his cock” replied Vaelys as Ser Arryk lead her out of the throne room.
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After she had been thoroughly bathed, Vaelys was sat on a chair under the watchful eye of Ser Arryk waiting for Maester Orwyle to arrive.
“Do you not wish to enquire about the wellbeing of your brother?” asked Vaelys as she watched the maids busying themselves with tidying up.
“I’m sure my brother is fine” muttered Arryk solemnly, his eyes fixed upon the door.
“You know it amazes me how different twins can be. I mean there’s Erryk who is loyal, and then there’s you-“ said Vaelys.
“-My brother is a traitor” said Arryk.
“Your brother swore towards the rightful Queen-he is a man of honour, unlike some I could mention” said Vaelys, a soft knock at the door diverting her attention away from her guard.
“Prince Aemond” said Arryk bowing slightly.
“You can wait outside-“
Ser Arryk nodded his head slightly and then shuffled out of the room, only to come to a standstill just beyond the threshold of the door.
“He is to be your personal guard-he will remain stationed outside, so before you get any ideas, remember he’s there” said Aemond as he waved his hand, and a nervous looking maid placed a stool in front of Vaelys.
“What are you doing?”
“The cut needs stitching, I’ve stitched plenty of my own wounds before, or would you rather have the Maester do it, after all he did such a wonderful job on my eye” said Aemond.
“I thought it was Maester Selkin who stitched your eye?“ asked Vaelys.
“On Driftmark-but I’ve had other procedures since then” replied Aemond.
“Other procedures?”
“Removal of my eyelids” said Aemond as he threaded the needle and raised his hand to Vaelys who flinched away nervously.
“I-I-“ stuttered Vaelys.
“If I was going to hurt you, then I would have done it before I brought you to Kings Landing”.
“But you did hurt me-you killed my dragon” whispered Vaelys softly as she leaned forward an allowed Aemond to begin stitching the cut above her eye.
“I’m sorry about Archonei-” whispered Aemond.
“-Don’t say her name” snapped Vaelys.
“It was not my intent to kill her”.
“You chased after us on that old bitch dragon of yours, what did you think was going to happen?” quipped Vaelys, grimacing as Aemond pulled the thread through her skin.
“Vhagar was defending me after your dragon attacked her”.
“Archonei was frightened, she was much smaller than Vhagar, how would you feel having that thing chasing after you” said Vaelys.
“If you didn’t insult me in the first place then I wouldn’t have chased after you”.
“I heard you-shouting your commands, but she wouldn’t listen. Does your King know that you can’t control your dragon?” asked Vaelys flinching again as the needle pierced her skin.
“It was a momentary lapse in-“
“-Your mouldy rock is obviously getting senile in her old age” retorted Vaelys.
Aemond paused for a moment, debating with himself on whether or not he would engage Vaelys in the argument she was intent on starting, but after a few moments he decided against it.
“We are to marry on the morrow-I suggest you rest well” muttered Aemond as he tied the thread and snipped it.
“If you think that I’d willingly marry you dragon slayer, then your even stupider than you look”.
“The alternative is much worse-“ muttered Aemond raising from the stool.
Vaelys looked at Aemond and took a deep breath, she knew Aegon’s threat of offering her to any Lords who bent the knee was not an empty one and despite her anger towards Aemond for what he had done, he was clearly the lesser of two evils.
She would rather be his wife, than suffer the alternative. Her fathers words echoed in her mind ‘Seize your opportunity and do what you must in order to survive’.
“Fine. I will marry you” snapped Vaelys.
“Get some rest Princess. Tomorrow you will be my wife” replied Aemond as he turned on his heel and left the room.
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Aemond was stood beside the high septon. He was elegantly dressed, his black tunic decorated with silver dragons and his Targaryen cloak tied loosely around his shoulders. His long hair tied back in its usual half up, half down style.
The horns signalled the beginning of the ceremony and begrudgingly Vaelys took Aegon’s arm.
“You look beautiful. Green suits you” said Aegon smugly.
“Eat shit-” muttered Vaelys.
“Thank you for escorting the bride Your Grace. If you would be so kind as to wait for the Princess to remove her maiden cloak” said the Septon.
Vaelys undid the ties of her maiden cloak and handed it to Aegon who nodded respectfully to the Septon and took his seat next to Alicent and Helaena.
“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection” said the Septon loudly.
Aemond removed the cloak bearing the colours of house Targaryen and draped it around Vaelys’ shoulders.
Aemond then took Vaelys’ hand and smiled as the Septon tied their hands together by a ribbon.
“In the sight of the seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity. Now you may look upon one another and say these vows together” exclaimed the Septon.
“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days” said Vaelys, her lip wobbling slightly.
“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine from this day until the end of my days” declared Aemond loudly.
“The vows have been spoken. You may kiss your bride”.
Aemond hesitated for a moment before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Vaelys’ lips.
“ñuhon” whispered Aemond as he pulled away (Mine).
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The celebration after their wedding was in full swing, how Alicent had managed to pull this off in the limited time she had, Vaelys didn’t want to know.
King Aegon was sat at the head of the table, with a smiling Alicent and Otto by his side.
Vaelys sat next to Aemond near the head of the table, plastering on a smile as Lords and ladies loyal to Aegon came up to wish them well. Tyland Lannister, and one that seemed to linger, Jasper Wylde.
"Many good wishes too you Prince Aemond and Princess Vaelys. A match many shall pray for a fruitful outcome. I must admit Princess, the tales of your great beauty have not been exaggerated".
Vaelys shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Aemond scowled.
"Thank you," nodded Vaelys politely. 
All through the feast and dancing, Vaelys couldn’t help but think about her mother.
Did her mother know that she was in Kings Landing? Or had the broken pieces of Archonei been discovered and it was assumed that she had died alongside her dragon?
Her mother was still recovering from the pain and loss of her last pregnancy when she had agreed to let Vaelys fly to Storms End, how cruel would it be to let a mother already grieving for the loss of one daughter, believe her other was also dead.
“Valzȳrys” muttered Vaelys (Husband).
“Is everything ok?” asked Aemond.
“Issa muñā, does she know that I’m here?” (My mother).
“I don’t know-I’ll asked my grandsire” replied Aemond as he rose from his seat and made his way towards his grandsire who was in conversation with Larys Strong.
“Does Rhaenyra know that her daughter is here?” asked Aemond.
“The Princess has not yet been informed of-“ said Otto.
“-She’ll know when she receives the sheets stained with her daughter’s maiden’s blood” interrupted Aegon.
“Perhaps a letter would be sufficient-” mused Aemond.
“No-our whore sister will be sent proof that her daughter has been wedded and bedded. Speaking of which I must inform you brother that the consummation will need to be witnessed, given our older sisters past behaviours”.
“Your Grace-“ exclaimed Aemond.
“We cannot have Rhaenyra contesting the marriage-“ urged Larys.
“Lord Strong is right-“ said Otto.
As much as he could try an argue against it, Aemond knew couldn’t. Rhaenyra would indeed challenge the validity of her daughters marriage, and the witnesses were a preventative measure.
“I request the minimum number of witnesses and sheer curtains-“
“Arrangements will be made,” said Otto.
“Your no fun” muttered Aegon tipping a large gulp of wine.
“I do not wish for my wife to be displayed in such a manner” snapped Aemond.
“Careful brother-anyone would think that you care for the bastard” snarked Aegon.
“She is my wife-“ said Aemond.
“-And that little crush of yours has nothing to do with it?”
“I don’t know what your talking about” snarled Aemond.
“I saw that cuntstruck look on your face when our sister brought her brood of bastards to the Red Keep defending Jace’s claim to Driftmark-Couldn’t keep your eye off our niece, although I must say I don’t blame you. She has grown rather beautiful. Perhaps I’ll take a leaf out of our uncles book and insist on first night rights” said Aegon.
“You have no right” replied Aemond, his heart pounding in his chest.
“I am the King-I have every right, but what sort of brother would I be if I deprived you of the chance to deflower a maid-it’s not as if the last woman you bedded was one” laughed Aegon.
“Don’t ever mention that again” ordered Aemond as he turned on his heel and returned to Vaelys who was now huddled with Helaena.
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“I couldn’t talk him out of it-” said Aemond.
“At least you tried” muttered Vaelys, her shoulders slumping.
“Come good sister-I shall escort you to your new chambers” whispered Helaena.
“I’ll distract Aegon and the others” muttered Aemond.
“I know it might not make sense, but it was necessary for Aemond to bring you here”.
“I’m sure it was-“ muttered Vaelys as she watched Aemond bump into his brother, causing the cup of wine he was holding to spill all over the floor.
“You will see in time, and don’t worry you will fly again,” said Helaena.
“I will?” asked Vaelys as she followed Helaena out of the throne room.
“A dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free,” said Helaena.
“What?” exclaimed Vaelys.
“A dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free,” repeated Helaena as she came to a stop in the middle of the corridor.
“These are not my chambers” mused Vaelys.
“No-there Aemonds. You are to share, it’s important” muttered Helaena as she pushed open the door, took Vaelys by the hand and pulled her inside.
“I’m scared” whimpered Vaelys.
“Aemond will take care of you-he’s not the monster you think he is,” said Helaena.
“He brought me here”.
“I was necessary-a dragon across the sea, a bronze heart waiting to be free. The dragons begin to dance, blood will be shed, begins when two are wed,” said Helaena.
“You keep saying that but-“ uttered Vaelys as the door swung open and Aemond walked in, closely followed by Aegon, Otto, Larys Strong, Tyland Lannister and Maester Orwyle.
“It’s time-“ declared Aegon brightly.
“Will you stay?” asked Vaelys.
“Yes” replied Helaena softly as she stood next to Aegon who huffed impatiently at Aemond who was stood silently observing Vaelys.
“Would you help me with the gown, husband?” asked Vaelys as she turned from him and swept her hair away from her back to reveal a great number of fiddly buttons and laces.
“Of course,” replied Aemond as he reached forward and began undoing his wife’s wedding gown.
Soon she was stood in nothing but a thin shift and Aemond felt his heart quicken in his chest at the sight of her nipples through the sheer fabric.
He was no maid, Aegon had seen to that when he’d dragged him to the street of silk on his thirteenth name day. But Vaelys was no paid whore, that would whisper sweet lies into his ear and make him feel dirty.
She was his wife, and he would treat her as such.
Aemond began pulling off his own clothes as Vaelys climbed into the bed. Her cheeks tinged pink as she glanced nervously at the witnesses who were silent.
“Focus on me. Not them” said Aemond as he finished undressing himself and climbed into the bed.
Vaelys nodded nervously as Otto moved forward and closed the sheer curtains, they didn’t provide much privacy, but it was better than nothing.
“I-I’m ready husband” whispered Vaelys as she pulled off her shift and discarded it on the floor.
Vaelys laid down and smiled shyly as Aemond gazed at her naked body.
“Gevie” whispered Aemond as he slowly reached out and ran his fingers over Vaelys’ breasts (Beautiful).
Goosebumps erupted over Vaelys’ skin as Aemonds hand began to move lower.
“I-I need to prepare you” whispered Aemond.
“P-prepare me?” whispered Vaelys.
“I don’t want to hurt you” replied Aemond.
Vaelys gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.
“Aemond” exclaimed Vaelys as her husband slipped a finger inside her.
Aemond buried his face in his wife’s neck as he began peppering kisses along her smooth skin as he added another finger to prepare her as best, he could.
But in the back of his mind, he was still aware of the witnesses standing at the foot of the bed.
“Come on. Get on with it” groused Aegon.
Aemond removed his fingers and then laid between his wife’s open legs, supporting his weight on his left arm as he reached down and took his hard cock in his hand and placed the tip of it against his wife’s slick entrance.
Vaelys shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath as Aemond sheathed himself within her.
“Listen to her whimpering, who would have thought a whore’s daughter would be so cock shy” laughed Aegon.
“Don’t listen to them-I won’t let them see you” muttered Aemond softly.
Vaelys couldn’t stifle the whimper of pain as she felt Aemond’s cock press further into her.
“That’s it Aemond fuck her harder” exclaimed Aegon gleefully.
“Your doing so well-” muttered Aemond trying to control himself.
Vaelys’ cunny choked his cock so tight that he needed a few seconds to adjust, making him terribly aware that he was not going to last for too long.
Aemond’s cock twitched and throbbed with need, and he released a shuddered breath while Vaelys sighed in relief. 
“The pain will ease,” rasped Aemond, waiting for his wife to adjust.
After a few moments, Vaelys nodded slowly her hands grasping the white sheets tightly as Aemond pulled back and thrust forward again.
Aemond rested his head in the crook of Vaelys’ neck as he thrusts faster, his quiet moans muffled against her skin.
“Your perfect-“ whispered Aemond.
Feeling a spark of pleasure Vaelys let go of the sheets and slowly placed her hands on Aemond’s back, holding him close as his movements become more erratic.
Aemond pushed into the hilt for one last time and groaned loudly as his cock throbbed and he spilled his seed.
“A-Are you ok?”  Aemond as he gently pulled his softened cock from his wife.
Vaelys nodded, her fingers digging into the fabric of the bed.
Aemond pulled the bedcovers over Vaelys and then moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his eye drawn to the red ring of Vaera’s maidens blood that now stained his cock.
“Are you well Princess. Do you need me to examine you?” asked Maester Orwyle.
“No, I’m-“ muttered Vaelys.
“-The marriage has been consummated. Get out” snapped Aemond.
“The sheets brother” said Aegon.
Aemond slowly ran a hand over his face before he jumped off the bed, his eye moving to Vaelys who clutched the bedcovers too her chest and slowly lifted her body from the bed allowing him to pull the sheet from under her.
“There-“ snarled Aemond as he threw the sheet towards Aegon.
“I see she was a maid after all” quipped Aegon as he examined the blood stained sheet.
“This will do nicely, I’ll make sure to send it to our sister on the morrow, confirming that her precious heir has been wedded and bedded” Aegon as he quickly rolled up the bloodstained sheet.
“You’ve got what you wanted now get out” retorted Aemond.
There was a brief shuffling off feet, before the door to their chambers opened and closed, leaving the two of them alone.
“Are you ok?” asked Aemond as he climbed back into the bed.
“I’m fine” whispered Vaelys.
“We should get some sleep-it’s been a long day” said Aemond as he laid down,
“W-Will you hold me. Please?” asked Vaelys her voice small and barely audible, the tears running down her face.
Aemond slowly nodded and reached towards Vaelys pulling her trembling body against his.
It took far longer than Aemond would have liked for his wife’s trembling to cease, but eventually she fell asleep with her face pressed against his chest.
After discarding his eyepatch on the nightstand, Aemond gazed at Vaelys for seemed like hours.
He could still see the faint tracks of dried tears on her face, and with a shaking hand he reached out and gently stroked her cheek.
“I’m sorry” whispered Aemond as he pulled her closer and closed his eye.
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