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#prince ali x reader
yoursinfulurges · 1 year
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Enchantress
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Reader x Aemond Targaryen
Summary: You would guard your throne from vultures no matter the cost and so the games begins. In which Aemond Targaryen regrets making an enemy of his wife.
Aemond is a cheating hoe. No one wanted this I just really wanted to write some angst. As always your features and ethnicity is not mentioned, background is not specified but you are a highborn. After the Serpentine series I wanted something spicy.
Word count: 8.1k
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By nature you were a patient person, taking great diligence in ensuring emotions doesn't overcome your judgment. But as the hour grows late your forbearance for your husband had begun to wear thin. It nears twelve and you had been waiting for Aemonds return for well over three hours now. With every passing minute you find yourself drowning in madness as you draw a blank on where or what he was up to. Succumbing to the ill thoughts on your mind as the flickering dance and crackle of the fire floods your senses. You're tired, you're anxious and your ears are ringing yet you still sat unmoving. Why?
There was no doubt that the man in question confused you to no end, nevertheless you still made sure to act accordingly and play the part of his wife. Although you're finding it increasingly hard to upkeep the role of his good little lover when the man is hardly in your presence. It was true that your marriage with Aemond was one out of political leverage, but you still did your best to care for him. Always making sure your relationship was fostered and tended to in the hopes of something blossoming.
You had faith that he would grow fonder of you as the years went on, but with every passing day that thought was challenged. It had been a long journey but without fail you acted kind and loving towards him no matter the expense. Valuing your relationship with Aemond a great deal, you were willing to do anything for him.
Even endure his callous behaviors towards you.
It was no secret that the prince was rather displeased with your union. For a man that preached the importance of preforming duty, he was awfully bad at it. You had been wedded for almost half a year now and have yet to consummate the marriage. Not that you weren't willing to, the problem lies with your husband. It was plain to see behind closed doors that he did not take you seriously.
In his eye this marriage was a joke, you were but strangers at best due to his lack of effort. Now you know not of the origins of his distant behavior but you've tried your best to minimize them. Dragging Aemond off to accompany you on walks around the castle, asking him to join you for lunch; everyday without faltering you tried.
But to no avail, your attempts does little to dull the wall between you two. He doesn't interact with you unless it was mandatory or for show, displayed little emotions past cordial. And god forbid laying a hand on you was the end of the fucking world. Was this who Aemond Targaryen was? Cold and cynical? Deprived of all that makes a person human. Every time you looked at him he was a ghost, fading into the background slipping from your grasp. He was untouchable, invisible. His self-righteous aura creating a vortex around him.
The distance between Aemond and you had started to become apparent to the ladies in court. Everyday without fail they would voice their concerns, asking you if you were being mistreated. Of course you lie, a task that comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would since you had little ties with your husband. Though it makes you wonder if Aemond also found it easy to lie to you....
The thought gets lost on you as an intrusive sound rings through your chambers. Brows furrowing at the disturbance, why would Aemond feel the need to knock on your shared room? The train was rather absurd so it leads you into thinking that it wasn't him paying you a visit. Much to your disappointment. With confusion in your voice, you call out to the visitor.
"Come in." Anxiously bringing your palms together on your lap. Your fingers locked themselves in a manner of worry, squeezing tightly as you prepare yourself. Soon the door opens and in follows Ser Larys Strong. His pronounced way of walking evident as the cane hits the ground harshly. The sound announcing and intrusive, almost counting down the seconds before he reaches you.
"I am sorry to intrude on your private time my Lady, especially when the hour is so late but I fear this matter cannot wait till dawn." He smiles sympathetically although you do not like implications behind it. You notion for him to sit across from you, watching the scene carefully. You don't utter a word as he moves to take his place. Ser Larys's visits are always prompted.... And by the look on his face it reads that he knows something you don't... That fact slightly unnerved you...
"I thought this news would be best heard if it were from me.... From a friend..." Bullshit. Larys always had an ulterior motive, he liked cultivating favors from the court only for them to owe him in return. No doubt that he was a sick man that enjoyed manipulating others, finding power in mind games in a way that he cannot with the sword. You were far from friends but played the game together. He only viewed you so highly because you were one of the only people the didn't fall for his lures and cryptic words.
"I take it this news is not pleasant." Lifting a brow at him in question, you kept your manner strong and imposing. He swallows and nods his head briefly, averting his gaze from you to look at the floor.
"Earlier today.... Prince Aemond was caught indulging a servant girl in Harrenhal." He says the words carefully though no amount of safe keeping can withhold your anger. Larys words were vague but you understood clearly what he meant. Shaking in your seat, you calm yourself. Or at least tried to....
You were going to fucking kill him.
"Ah.... I see... Who else knows?" Your words come out strained. Tone cut and tense, implying that you were holding back an outburst as tears of anger slowly clouds your gaze. What did you honestly expect? Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, vision tunneling as rage began crawling up your center. For a moment your breath stills, the abyss captivating you before you snap out of it and focusing on Ser Larys once more. He says nothing as he watches the fire burn, avoiding your venomous stare.
"Just you and me." He nods slowly, finally looking at you, only to drop his gaze soon after. He was uncomfortable beyond measure... His mouth opens to say something once more but stops to take in your shape. You clutched at the chair with a murderous grip, nails digging into the stained leather. Slowly he met your unmoving eyes, taken aback by the poison swimming amongst them. Gods be good... That look never meant well. The tension was heavy and for a moment Larys feared for his own life. You were not sad nor disheartened, instead you were seething in hatred. The room fogs with something unpleasant as the walls welcomed the illness like an old friend. Such atmosphere was suffocating as he watched you shake in retribution, no doubt planning your next calculating moves.
Vengeance. That was all you wanted. Many questions plagued your mind, had you not been good enough for him? You've done all that you could to please him and yet he disrespect your name with his adultery. You honestly didn't know what to say, it wasn't like this was much of a shock to you since a part of you always had suspicions. But you dismissed those thoughts as nothing but intrusive and toxicant. Yet to hear the words out loud coming from a reputable man such as Ser Larys Strong was much different than you telling yourself. Larys was many things but he was not a liar. His words always had claim and a backbone, despite how distasteful the intentions behind them may be. You could not care less about what he wants to get out of you, what you want to know is what else he's keeping locked away. And what will it take to get him talking.
"The servant that caught them and sent for a raven was found killed under.... suspicious circumstances... I only received both letters now, of the girls retelling and of her death.... A dagger through the mouth what an awful way to go..." Larys speaks when you don't, watching the way you thought in silence. He wondered what you were thinking, for he was one of the only people that knew your true nature. You were a murderous woman, manipulative, vigilant, and vengeful... Behind those stupid smiles and shy fronts was an enchantress, turning the tides in her favor. And now an outsider trespasses on your waters. Larys knows more than anything that you were willing to guard your throne from vultures at any cost.
You didn't like coming second to anybody, and for a moment he prays for the prince...
"I understand that this must be difficult for you, but if you are ever in need... I'll be sure to be of service in this trying time..." You scoff at that, the sound reverberating through the room. There it was. The bait he dangles so tempting in front of foolish fish.
"At what cost Ser Larys, I am no fool. I know everything from you must always come at a price." Holding your chin up high, you crossed your arms and leaned back into your seat. Having calmed down a little, you plan a rainstorm of hell fire.
"Not this time... You see, this girl that had somehow managed to enthrall the prince.... She is a nuisance on my side so you can insure my allegiance is with you. As Lord of Harrenhal I make it a point to know everything and anything going on in my own castle, even if I'm not present. I can ensure you that I have eyes everywhere." You ignore the way your stomach turns at the thought of someone else captivating Aemond as you thought on his proposal. It would be quite useful to have someone with such connections on your side. Shaking your head as you corrected yourself. There were no sides nor factions, you were not at war with Aemond. Yet.
"Can you tell me the name of this girl?"
"She goes by Alys Rivers, you may know of her...." It was almost comical enough to force a laugh.
A bastard Strong... How truly ironic and cliche. It would seem that the very vendetta he had against his own nephews would be the cause of his own demise. The pain that rushed through you didn't burn anymore, instead it courses through your veins in bittersweetness, fueling your vengeance and need for revenge. You didn't care all that much about closure, instead looking for all the ways you can induce the same pain onto Aemond. You were patient to a fault, all the unwanted emotions manifesting into pettiness and spite.
To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must be precise and conniving, you couldn't afford any spill ups. In truth the stature he built of himself was great; intimidating, undying, a menace. But beneath all that you knew he was still the same little boy that got bullied for not having a dragon. Scars like that cannot be grown out of, especially when they've left such permanent imprints on him. You were not going to evoke One Eye Aemond who rides the largest dragon, but rather the young little boy he held so dearly to his heart. That was the Aemond you wanted to hurt. Not the man that gave you blank stares and barely spoke any words to you. Not the man that dares call himself your husband when he has not deserved the name. The neglected outcast freak, that was who you were going to murder.
How dare he choose her over you. Suddenly it clouds your vision. All the violence, the fire, the insecurities. Your inability to think clear, the pride and pain of being his wife. Your lust and distaste for the man that caused you such pain. It ruptures your heart. You would trade love for greed just to induce the same feelings onto him. Oh how you wanted to ruin him. Ruin her for him. By the end of it you wanted him begging at your knees, crying apologies. Who does Alys Rivers think she was to steal your husband away from you. And who does Aemond think he was to assume you wouldn't retaliate. Or perhaps he knew and simply didn't care... That was a common theme in your husband, not caring about you. He was more of a fool than you thought of if he thinks you were just going to stand for this and take it.
No. You wanted an eye for an eye. Or more plainly, a heart for a heart.
"Her existence threatens you." Speaking lowly as you projected your thoughts onto Ser Larys. You aren't the only one to have a reason to hate the aforementioned wench. You may be hazed with hatred but you are not blind. There was a reason Ser Larys chose to come to you instead of Aemond with this information. Without him you wouldn't have known anything, and surely the favor of a prince would be worth more than you could ever give him. Yet he came knocking at your door.
"I am the sole heir to my fathers title, if that bastard had somehow managed to persuade the prince then my very seat is challenged. An outsider amongst the natives. I need to ensure my status, my lady. Can I trust you on this." His words were frantic almost, his long brown hair falling over his face as he leaned in close. Ser Larys was pleading, in his own way...
"You can. Now, my friend... what will you have me do?" The smile that spread across your face was sinister as you prompted his guidance. Though it was more rhetorical, you knew what had to be done.
"Seduce Aemond. Capture his attention enough so that he begins to question his love for her." Love? Was that burned between them? Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you thought on it more. It wasn't a bad design, far better than you stabbing a knife through Alys in front of Aemond. Only one minor flaw.
"And how shall I manage to do that!? The man can barely look at me!"
"To the unseeing eye it appears that way. Though the amount of times I've caught his gaze lingering longer than it should is great. You are a smart woman y/n, I'm sure you can figure out a way to break through his barrier."
Could it be that all this time you just hadn't noticed him looking at you? Regardless that was irrelevant as you pondered your first move. You and Larys had the advantage, Aemond doesn't know that you knew of his infidelity. And as far as you're aware your image as his good little wife was still intact, so perhaps you would play into that role more. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize that you've grown stiff as a board. It dulls you as you realize that you've come to be the very woman you pray for. Desperately lost in their marriage. Endlessly dreaming, hoping one day Aemond would come around and play pretend with you. He was taking advantage of you without you knowing it. He sees your very being as something he can twist and turn in his palm like one of his daggers.
At a certain point he was bound to get cut.
To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must hurt that little boy. It had been weeks since your night with Ser Larys and silently you had been scheming. So far you remained indifferent, trying hard to make sure you aren't faltering by acting the same. It was a hard task that you've come to dread as you knew the cold truth behind his behaviors. At day he would be with you, by night he would be deep in her. You only began to notice the missing hours in your days and curse yourself for being so foolish. You thought long and hard about how you were going to approach the situation. Dissecting your husband under a magnifying glass whilst hiding behind timid smiles. And soon enough your praying and mute jealousy had manifested into the form of a golden haired beast bearing red and gold.
Ser Tyrin Lannister...
A handsome, charming young lord that has come to pay the crown a visit... Though you saw him for what he truly was, a prideful and egotistical man that's blinded by arrogance. The perfect pawn for your game. Truthfully, you only picked him out because he beared such acute resemblance to prince Aegon. The only difference in appearance was instead of the famed silver hair his was pure gold. You hoped that your choice of companion would strike a nerve with Aemond, seeing that he's spent so much of his youth being tormented by the image of the man.
And by the way he was glaring daggers at you and Tyrin, your expectations fall true. It was easy to manipulate the Lannister with sugar coated words and flirtatious giggles, the problem lied with Aemond taking the bait. Up until this point you were basically going off theory, but now you can trust that Aemond was a possessive man.
Your laugh rings through the room as you giggle at something Tyrin whispered in your ear. The man was indeed charismatic which made talking to him easy enough. If you hadn't diluted him to nothing but a playing piece you would have found yourself actually enjoying his company. You had been acquainted for quite some time now, ever since his first arrival, and everyday without fail you were with him. Slowly but surely you had began replacing Aemond with Tyrin in your life. It was him you went on walks with, it was him you dinned with. There was no doubt that Lannisters had vanity and he was aware of it, he was aware of how his gracious gifts won you over and softened you. Or so he thought. In weeks time you had managed to accumulate a collection of gold and ruby jewelries from the man himself.
Something Aemond has not taken kindly to, seeing the way his jaw would clench everytime you adorned the treasures. At this point you had purposely made a show of it, parading in a red and gold gown with massive ruby earrings dangling from your ears. All while you showcased a brilliant ruby and gold choker around your neck. You looked more like Tyrin's wife than Aemond's and perhaps that was your goal. Though honestly your endgame gets lost on you as you're having so much fun toying with him. No doubt Aemond had begun to pick up on your absence and it was hilarious to see. His worries and insecurities must've gotten the best of him because now you can't go anywhere without him trailing behind. He was always there, watching in silence, perhaps judging you but you did not care. The fact of the matter was, whatever you were doing was working.
"If you stare any longer I'm sure a fire will start to burn." Aegon says dryly from beside his brother, looking down at his empty chalice before placing it down all together. The elder rolled his eyes at the familiar 'hmmm' that escaped Aemond as he opens his mouth to say something but he turns mute. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the sight.
Contrary to popular belief, Aegon was not a complete fucking asshole. Well... sometimes he wasn't... He sensed his brothers discomfort greatly and although he didn't want to pry, he wanted to know what laid within the inner workings of Aemond's mind. Call it care or intrigue, but he loved gossip like an old widowed wife. Fact of the matter was, Aegon Targaryen was painful self aware and it didn't take much to figure out that Tyrin Lannister was him in lions clothing. Of course Tyrin was him if he actually tried and excelled at things. His drunken habits aside, he wanted to know why his sister in law was so taken by him with golden hair....
"He looks like me..." Aegon turns to his brother only to notice him swiftly walking away at his words. He turns to the man once more, brows pulling in contempt. Maybe he should have been born a Lannister....
To say that Aemond was irritated was an understatement. It was all so ridiculous. The fact that you were throwing yourself so carelessly for a man such as that imbecile. All Lannisters were dazzling armors with nothing truly potent inside. They were blinded by shine and glimmer just as much as everyone else was from their looks. He wouldn't admit it out loud but the resemblance Ser Tyrin had to his brother was uncanny. And he wouldn't dare admit that these unbecoming feelings were derived from that fact alone. Call Aemond what you will, a bitter husband, a possessive man, but he did not like what was playing out in front of him.
Over the passing weeks you had devoted your attention to that man and him alone. From the moment you awoke you were dressed in red and gold, throughout the day you were by his side. He no longer saw you and you no longer sought for his attention. He thought it'd be nice, to finally get you off his back but everyday he grows increasingly impatient. Were you not his wife? He knows he doesn't have a proper claim over you especially with how he's been acting but he still owned his emotions. And he was allowed to feel however he wanted to. Although he doesn't speculate any infidelity from your end, mainly because you weren't the type in his eye, it was plain that you were taken by a lion. Whether you knew it or not, you were dancing with a beast and Aemond would not take such defeat.
In all honesty, he's certain you aren't fucking Tyrin. Now perhaps that was just wishful thinking fueling his denial but you weren't exactly the type. All your marriage he's known you as nothing but dull... The perfect embodiment of who his parents wanted him to marry. Kind, respectable, a push over... In his opinion you were devoted to a fault. Seeing you as nothing but mindless doll who had no other choice but to fall in line and agree with whoever owned them. Hence why when seeking companionship he purposely chose some the exact opposite of you. Alys was older by a few years and had all the experience he craved. It was no question why that he sought for her instead of you. Word around the castle was that you were thought to be too pious to succumb to sins of temptation unless duty was in order.
He hadn't meant to grow so attached to Alys but she was exhilarating. Everytime they were apart he yearned for her body. She was captivating and alluring in all senses, intoxicating him. With long brown hair and a figure that could make the gods envious, she held him with a death grip. His Alys. Aemond knew that what he had with her wasn't love but more so addiction, but he didn't care what it was just as long as he got to have more of it. The differences between you and Alys were stark to see, you were at polars end. But what drawned him to her was the fact that she was so aware of her touch. He liked women that knew how to wield a weapon, and he quite honestly couldn't picture you doing the same. They called her many names for her beauty, searing her as a witch for her dominion over man.
If he wanted an enchantress you would give it to him. You would be better than Alys in every way imaginable. If he wanted someone who can satisfy him then you would drive him into the brink of madness with your touch. You wanted to suffocate and flush out Aemond Targaryen till he was no more than a shell. It started off slow. Switching your clothing in favor of another, something more hugging and accentuating. Your old gowns so colorful and modest were now replaced with darker tones that showed off your body well. It was an odd switch but you felt more comfortable this way strangly enough.
Then you traded innocent stares for something more bidden, your once doe eyes turning siren as you realize the effects of you had. Perhaps Aemond cheating on you was a blessing in disguise. You only now realize how good it felt to be wanted. All throughout court, men and women a like would fall in line for you. They would bow if you commanded so. You looked like someone to be taken seriously and not so much like a walking virtue. Everytime you entered a room eyes would be on you, the silent respect your new aura demanded was intoxicating. You knew who you were and what you were capable of, it was time for them now to know too.
It was empowering. You felt Immortal and unchallenged. To have them speak so nervously to you, the shy stares and permanent blushes. Your new change had prompted many curiosities but what captures people so was your attitude. Cunning, sly and quick witted, all the aspects of your being that you suppressed. You had never felt this in control all your life, like the tides were moved by your will.
All your life you've been taught to be one way despite your true wishes. You painted yourself as the image of what a lady was supposed to be without understanding why you were doing it. Or who you were doing it for. Perhaps this is why the change was so liberating, because you no longer chose to hide yourself. Maybe this was who you were all along and just needed a push to embrace it. You no longer felt like you were wearing a mask and truthfully you don't think you could ever put it on again. Not when they all doted around you. Not they all craved for you. Not when you had such power over desires.
They all fell into line... all but Aemond.... but you had something special for him. For now you let his judgment cloud him. You doubt that he's picked up on your facade faltering. It was quite strange to embrace the very values your teaching went against. Sensuality, unkept emotions, temptation. Having been guided to act one way only to realize that people yearned for the other more. To switch from being subdued to domineering. You no longer let people tell you what to do and how truly inebriating it was.
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"You are intoxicating...."
You know not how much time has passed, only consumed on Tyrin's lips as he grasped your body all over. Laughing when his teeth grazed your neck, you threw your head back in bliss. Maybe this was what the Septa was trying to keep you away from, the overwhelming sensations of sex. It rushes through you, sending your skin on fire in it's wake. God, he knew how to please you so. Giggling into your ear as his golden locks curtain the sinful things he whispered, Tyrin's fingers expertly yanks your skirt up. You let him pin you to the bed, a stupid smile spreading across your face. If such an act was so bad then why on earth did it feel so good?
How exhilarating it was to be desired, to be wanted and fondled with care. And to think, all this time you had spent rotting away in your bed chambers waiting for Aemond. If he would not satisfy you then you would satisfy yourself, fulfillment taking the form of a rogue lover. Perhaps it was messy to set your eyes on the men of the court but maybe that's what you wanted. You like the thrill of getting caught, liked the rumors that murmured through the halls. Although you hadn't slept with anyone but Tyrin, you couldn't contain yourself from teasing the occasional lord and lady. Naturally, word got around of your effects and of you and Tyrin's speculated affairs. And not so long after, word finally traveled to your dear stupid husband. Though it wasn't until he caught you in the middle of the act did he finally take it seriously. Up until this point they were but toothless claims, not believing his tight laced wife would ever be capable enough to find her own back bone.
"Faster.... faster..." You say through half lidded eyes, blurry vision locked onto the man in between your legs. Your fingers intertwined with his golden hair as you guide his head at your will. Body heaving and grinding up against his mouth. You pull at your skirts more to get a better view of his face.
All was falling into place and you would make your first strike as footsteps approached up the hall. You were nearing ecstasy as your eyes stay trained onto the door. You had perfectly timed everything and in a manner of seconds you would land such a blow so harsh that it would shatter Aemonds views of you. His boring and dull, obedient little wife coming undone by a man that was not him. You suppress a moan as Tyrin slips his middle finger in you, fucking you in and out as his lips wrap around your swollen clit. Almost there, almost there....
Oh it was all too much yet not enough at the same time. It floods you, sending you over the edge as you desperately grasp onto the bed covers. And at the sound of the door opening you let out a series of gasps turned moans as you lock eyes with the cause of your downfall. The look on his face was satisfaction enough, but you wanted more. Eyes closing in bliss as your head falls onto the bed, a laugh so sinister rings through the room. You pull your skirt over to hide your exposed skin as you smile up at Tyrin. Drawing him close to place a long loving kiss on his lips, you nod your head out the door, whispering empty promises of later. Aemond watches the whole exchange, mouth clenched and fists balled. As the man walked past him and out the door Aemond had to physically stop himself from mauling him and setting him on fire.
There was no doubt about it, he was angry. Shaking in place much like you had in your seat weeks ago. He didn't know what these emotions were blossoming in his chest but he didn't like it. It burned in a way so violent he fears that a hole may form in his chest. He does nothing for a few moments, simply standing in place eyeing you like a predator to it's prey. You do the same, putting all your body weight on your elbow as you laid on the bed unmoving. If he expected a stream of desperate apologies to fall from your mouth then he was not going to get it. You looked at eachother with much venom and alcohol. The gratification you got coursed through you as the image he had witnessed stayed forever burned in his brain.
Good. You wanted him to remember that forever. Much like you'll remember his actions towards you for eternity. Suddenly you were angry. Angry at him, angry at his fucking Alys, angry at Ser Larys. Snarling in hate as your gaze hardens you force yourself to speak.
"Get out." The words were cold, and for a moment Aemond flinches as it echoed through the walls. He does what you command, harshly shutting the door behind him and you fall onto the bed once more.
What had you done?
You were getting even. You wouldn't be here if he hadn't have provoked you first. Truthfully, you didn't know what scared you more, the fact that you could have potentially ruined your marriage or how absolutely addicting it was to inflict pain onto him. One things for certain though, you weren't done.
Aemond didn't know what to feel. He was a mess of emotions, lashing out at anything and everything in his way. A part of him knew that this was only fair yet why did it hurt him so bad? He thought he didn't care about you, thought you were a mere pawn in this game but it appeared that all this time you were playing him. All of it is a mystery to him as he begins to think on your relationship more. What parts of you were actually real, which was really you and which was his wife? Were your affections for him true and had he hurt you so? All this time he thought you were playing a role, or maybe you were. Because the girl laying on that bed laughing like the stranger was not his wife.
No, she was a demon. A succubus getting off on his pain. All of it is so confusing, the bruises you left dragging him down into the depths. Yet why did it excite him a little... Watching you like that.... Aemond feels as though he couldn't breathe, the remaining fragments of his heart shriveled at the thought of falling victim to weakness. He would not allow this, he wouldn't allow a man like Tyrin Lannister to best him and steal you away. The sorrow he felt was akin to an old friend, the bittersweetness that plagued his soul reminded him of his youth. This was a feeling he promised himself he would never endure again. The feeling of being less than and not enough. He had failed you. He had failed you so bad that you had to go seeking for another. Now he knew that he was being a hypocrite on that but he was vulnerable.
Being vulnerable was not something Aemond Targaryen was used to.
"You aren't to see him again." Aemond yelled, trailing after the girl as you entered your shared chambers. The space thankfully empty as you ignored his impending attitude. Your breath quickens as you find yourself caught in a rather unpleasant situation. It had been merely an hour since that gurly sight with Ser Tyrin Lannister, and Aemond finds himself losing all remaining composure he had left with you.
"Huh?" There was something rather vexing about your tone that proved to be daggers in Aemond's ears. The way you expressed such profound boredom and taciturn, as if this conversation was an inconvenience to you. You displayed an tired exposure that puzzled him to no end because the confrontation has yet to begin. Your slack demeanor and annoyed undertone was both riddling and infuriating to Aemond.
"Ser Tyrin Lannister, you aren't allowed to see him again!" Deciding to forgo any avoidance, Aemonds tone was cut clean. He told you how it was, and he did not care about preserving feelings when you were showing such childish behavior. You would either accept never seeing that man, or any man for that matter again, or Aemond would turn to more extreme measures.
"Well... who knew it was possible to evoke such emotions from you. And here I thought you were incapable." Aemond's eye widen in shock as you put on an uncharacteristic display of theatrics. You scoffed and silently berated him with your inflection. This was a side of you he's never seen before. It was a tiny probe that was meant to provoke him by angling into his worries in a brash and unnecessary way. Aemond didn't know whether or not you were intentionally trying to anger him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care if it was deliberate or not.
"...I beg your pardon?" His words wry and barren with any emotions, genuinely taken aback.
"Well then kneel and start begging." You turn to him sharply, backing him against the door as he looked down at you in shock, yet you don't back down.
"You can't tell me what to do. But if you wish to keep believing that you have some sort of power over me, I will try my best to be more discreet with my partners." You wave your hand at him, as if done with this conversation but he was far from finished.
"I will not have you acting like a whore y/n! You are my wife and mine alone!" Aemond did not mean to call you that but as the words slip from his lips he soon finds himself regretting it. Watching the way you hesitated for a moment, a flash of hurt gleaming on your face before turning angry. He knew men have called their wives much worse but not him. His mother had always made sure he knew how to treat women. If only she knew how that back fired...
A whore....
He thought that you were a whore......
Normally you wouldn't let such meaningless words effect you so but that was exactly it, it wasn't  meaningless. Not when it came from the mouth of the person you once thought the world of. Aemond used to be everything to you, and to hear that coming from him was disheartening to no end. Yes you knew that he was just angry because you pushed him so, but that fact became irrelevant as you begin to feel claustrophobic from your emotions. You felt frail, burning with a thick blanket of insecurities and rage constricting you, like a greedy serpent, ready to prey and corrupt you whole. You felt like Alice, falling into a dark rabbit hole of anxiety and panic, despair beginning to pull you down. It was all too much, and you suddenly began to feel so small. Your once defiance now subdued and replaced with the image of a shaking girl maddened. You felt afraid... not of Aemond but of your emotions...
Compose yourself, you were not going allow such disrespect and you were not going to fall into your old ways again.
"Don't play the fool, Aemond. You started this. Quite honestly what did you think was going to happen?" You yelled firmly in his face, trying so hard to push your emotions away. But thoughts of Alys tainted your mind. He would never speak to her this way. He would never act this way around her. You let the bitterness hug and empower you. The same need to hurt him reignited.
"I am simply playing the game that you started." You were reticent but in a prolix and unnecessary way. You would not reveal that he had hurt you so. Aemond opens his mouth to say something but doesn't for a few moments.
"What prompted this change..." He sounded desperate, his words breaking as he desperately searched for an answer.
"I don't know! Maybe now I don't feel the need to hide behind a mask anymore." You say to him honestly. This need for revenge and affinity for spite and pettiness, it had always been there. Aemond just didn't look at you long enough to notice it.
"I'm tired Aemond. I'm tired of doing my best to please you only for it to not be good enough!"
It wasn't just about you or Aemond being possessive anymore, it was the fact that you had reached your end. Was it so wrong to want a partner that actually loved and cared for you? Was it so wrong to want to be loved? The more you thought the more empty and hollow you felt. You can feel your soul decaying all together as anxiety crept up on you. He didn't want you.... The little voice in your head spoke. He thinks Alys is better than you..... stop... Why do you try so bad? because I must... You don't deserve to be with him... yes I do... No you don't... The voices in your head taunted, feeling feverish and flushed, you took a step back from Aemond. Suddenly afraid to be too close to him. But it did no help to calm the mean words the whirlwind through your brain. It picked at you, in a way that the thought of Alys couldn't but funny enough it was the personification of her plaguing your mind.
He doesn't think you're good enough...
I don't think you're good enough...
He doesn't think you're good enough...
We don't think you're good enough...
It's not just her anymore, the voice that invades your head is your parents speaking to you..... Then it's the King and Queen screaming... And after that it's Aegon and Helaena laughing at you...
It's Aemond talking down to you, —it's everything, it's everyone, all at once, all-consuming, suffocating and demanding. And suddenly the ability to hear is ripped from you; it's nothing. You're forced into a pliable mass being sullied, your body isn't yours anymore. It's a vessel of flooding anxiety and negative thoughts.
"I want somebody that loves me...." You say, looking at the man with such betrayal.
Be strong....
"I want a happy life with a husband that can actually stand to be in my presence. I want children of my own to fill the hole you left." You spoke after a short minute, your voice small and fragile, pleading... Aemond watches you shake and cry from where you stand. He had done this to you...
"I have spent so long loving you but that love has never served me..." Your words were soft, a timbre of spite concealed with broken confidence. You hated this... hated how you got in your own head and ruined your own self esteem... Pain feeding off your scorched heart and the embers of your love for Aemond. It was agonizing... agonizing to watch him look at you cry like this. But perhaps he needed to see you this way.
He had hurt you so badly and the moment he finally got a taste of his own medicine he ordered you to stop. It was the consuming fear of not being enough for him that killed you so, the thought of not being able to live up to the expectations. And for Aemond to stand there and call you a whore when all you ever did was try to love him.
"Forgive me my dear wife... I did not know that you have been suffering so badly all this time. Had I known...." He softens for a moment, trying to get you to understand whilst failing to consider that you didn't need to, he did.
"But you did! You knew and you still went off in search for something I cannot give you. Had you have known would it have changed anything?" You scream in broken anger and despair.
"No..."
You never learn, hearing it in your own head was a lot different than hearing it out loud. It will never be the same, it will always be ten times worse. Aemond had just confirmed your words. Of course you knew that he thought this way but it hurt a lot more. Just like that night with Ser Larys. Your shoulders slump in defeat, frowning as tears began to prick at your eyes. Aemond takes notice of this, swiftly cupping your cheeks with his large hands and forcing you to look him.
"No, because either way you would have been discontent. I cannot give you the life that you wanted." Yet you can give it to her?
"Why not!?" You yelled with such anger and rage, ripping his hands off you. Your voice echoing through the room as you cussed the boy out. You were frustrated beyond measure and above all else heartbroken. Was it truly too much to ask for? You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having him treat you like this. Maybe weeks ago you would've swoon at the thought of his hands caressing you. But that was then and this was now.
"I am not made for love..." You fear that you can slay Vhagar with the great efforts it takes you now to remain calm. That was his excuse? A pitiful one at that. He had you standing there.... sad and broken... and all he can come up with was that love wasn't in his nature? Pain is the perfect word to describe this sensation oppressing your chest at those words. This doesn't stop you from peering up at him in question. You felt a calling to yell at him but you couldn't, no matter how badly you wanted to you. Staying baffled, every cry dying in the back of your throat. Your visage contorting in somber at Aemonds blasphemy.
"I don't believe you!" You yell at him, pushing at his chest when he tries to hug you. You break down in his arms, collapsing onto the floor as you weep into him. Aemond desperately held you close, oh what has he done to you.... He felt a myriad of emotions wash over him. Guilt, sadness, shame... He was ashamed he pushed you to this point. So he held the woman he barely knew well enough to call his wife.
"Tell me Aemond! Does your heart belong to another? Tell me now, please and I'll stop." You didn't know what you meant by stop. Stop trying? Stop loving? But if he said the words you would end it so. Aemond looks down at you, hugging onto the portrait that was once his wife.
"No! No one has captured my heart, those who came second to you, they mean nothing. They are nothing..." He says quickly, his words ringing truthful. He didn't know what prompted this new change but he panicked at the thought of losing you.
"Prove it to me." You whispered slowly. Uttering the words in a tone so cold and firm, your gaze locks onto Aemond's. Your wide eyes morphing into something else as a small smirk pulls at your lips. Distraught gone from your face as the water flow of tears halt.
"Bring me the head of Alys Rivers."
"How do you know..." He looks at you in shock for a moment, your expression ridden of distress and replaced with something sinister.... Watching his expression carefully, you place your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his ear.
"Do it and I will be yours again." It came out as a pur, a tempting whisper urging him, and Aemond found himself liking the way it sounded. That was Aemond's cord. He was as possessive as he was jealous. Much like you, he didn't like being second to anyone, but would that be enough. Turning your head to meet his gaze, it would be so easy to kiss you but he keeps a firm hold on your waist.
"If not then I will take it myself." Nodding your head briefly, you remove his arms from around you. Standing up, you walk over to your shared bed, wiping away the rogue tears before sitting down. Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion, you were much more composed now and hidden behind your eyes was a sense of coldness.
"It appears that I have much to learn about you my lovely wife. But If it will please you then as you wish." Aemond stands soon after you, nodding his head as he planned to make amends.
"You're willing to kill her just like that?" Turning your head to him slightly, you questioned where his loyalty lied.
"I told you she means nothing to me... Did you think otherwise?" His sly expression displayed a certain vainglory that caused you to turn away. So maybe you had thought otherwise but your insecurities had to come from somewhere.
"If you're lying to me Aemond I will have your other eye." Threatening may not be the answer but you liked the hesitancy it triggered from him.
"I suppose this is my fault.... you don't trust me." Nodding his head as he walked slow steps towards you, Aemond kneels down in front of the bed and takes your hands in his.
"You have given me every reason not to trust you." With a stiff lip, you turn from him.
"I know... But let me make it right." Guiding your chin with his fingers to make you look at him, you noticed a hint of regret and shame swimming in his eye.
"The road to forgiveness will not be easy." You tell him firm.
"I know... my love." You ignore the butterflies that awoke from that title and watch as he rose to grab his riding coat. And so it begins...
༺━━━━━━━━━༻༒༺━━━━━━━━━༻
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Autho's Note:
Let me know if you guys want more! There's more to this story but I chopped it up into two parts because I wasn't done and I wanted to have something out for you guys. I swear to god I drop fics unannounce then dissappear for months lmao.
- Armoni
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achaoticeternal · 1 year
Text
bewitched.
AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM!READER
summary: more word has arrived to you regarding your husbands infidelity. as he returns to you, you present him with a choice.  word count: 2k warnings: drinking. strong language. angst. adultery. pain. a/n: see end of the piece for author’s note
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
choose your own ending...
— ending 1.
— ending 2.
— ending 3.
— ending 4.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
“My lady,” Your chambermaid spoke from the doorway, returning with a fresh pitcher of wine as you had requested, “Should I see the children to bed?”
“Please do,” Your voice was soft, the words fragile in your solemn state.
“It might be best for you to rest, rather than await the return of Prince Aemond.”
Her words were gentle, simply advising you to take care of yourself. But the fires of hurt and betrayal were already lit. 
“What makes you believe that I am awaiting my husband?” With words more venomous than you intended, you bid her leave.
At the sound of the door shutting, you stood and moved toward the pitcher and chalice left idly by the fireplace. You poured the deep red liquid and lifted the cup to your lips, taking a generous gulp.  The dull burn allowed some relief to your heightened senses. But you also knew that the alcohol only added fuel to your fire. 
Rain began to pour over King’s Landing, softly thudding against the windows and stone of the castle walls. Usually, the rain would lull you to sleep, but it seemed the thunder of the skies only spurred you to continue drowning away the ache in your heart. Your eyes flickered over the second chalice that had been placed on the silver tray with your pitcher. It seemed that the servants expected Aemond to return to the Keep tonight. You were not sure if you wish for him to return or for him to drown in the heavy rains that poured from the sky. 
As if the fool perfectly timed you, you glanced out the window to see the silhouette of Vhagar descending toward the Dragon Pits. In a drunken frenzy, you pulled the curtain to cover it, instead, the velvet fabric came down at your harsh tug. 
The frustration would nearly boil over, but you did not allow the simple issues to push you over the threshold. As the Queen had often advised you, it was important that a lady bite her tongue and keep her composure even when she is by her lonesome. If someone saw the illusion of a proper lady shatter, it would be nearly impossible to recover from. She even revealed to you how she had come by this knowledge, sharing with you the events that occurred the night Aemond became the one-eyed prince.  
Swiftly, you moved back toward the fireplace, picking up the parcel that a raven had delivered directly to you just this morning. It appeared blank to the simple eye, but when you hovered the note over the fire, the message revealed itself. The contents of it were simple, but completely shattered something inside of you:
She is with child. 
Though the news had shocked you, the existence of the other woman did not. When Aemond and Daeron laid siege to Harrenhal and the Riverlands, word had traveled through the courts regarding the princes bedding other women. At the time, you had bit your tongue, excusing your husband’s infidelity as you convinced yourself it was just something he used to relieve his stress from battlefields. 
But even after the marches through the Riverlands were claimed to be successful and at an end, Aemond would sometimes fly off to Harrenhal. He would say that he was just ensuring the hold that the Greens had on the region, yet you never believed his lies. 
It was said that Harrenhal was cursed, blood mixed into the stone that built it. You believed the stories true after the great fire took the lives of Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin when you were a child yourself. But now a curse had attached itself to your husband and kept him crawling back to the towers of Harrenhal. 
The door cracked open, the hinges creaking as he entered, exhaustion painted over his face. Aemond was completely drenched, his hair now scrunched into waves rather than falling perfectly straight. Most of his leather overlayer had been discarded for the servants to see to, leaving him in a black tunic and pants with his riding boots.
It took him a few moments, but Aemond quickly came to realize that you were resting by the fire rather than fast asleep in your shared bed. 
“Should you not be sleeping, dear wife?” Aemond called out to you while readying himself to turn into bed. 
“Sleep has… escaped me recently,” You replied, eyes remaining on the fire. Only at his words did the nerves begin to spur inside you. How would he react when you told him? What would tomorrow bring? None of it really mattered, you supposed, as long as you didn’t allow your nerves to get the best of you. 
Now in his proper bedclothes, Aemond began to approach the fireplace. He noticed the half-empty pitcher of wine, slightly shocked that you were partaking this late at night. Usually, you would reserve yourself to only enjoying wine at dinners or feasts, not in your marriage chambers. His eye flickered to the second chalice that sat empty on the silver platter. His slender fingers reached to grasp it, “Would this cup be for me?”
You turned your head, looking between the pitcher and chalice but never into his eye, “The maid brought it with her, probably as a formality. No one expected you back tonight.”
Aemond’s brow furrowed at the tone you spoke with, and it caught the prince off guard when you returned your gaze to the fire rather than continuing to speak with him. He poured his own chalice with wine and allowed himself to enjoy it. He stayed in place, unwavering from his position as he looked down on you.
The air went still… the taste of the wine began to sour in his mouth. He sensed something to be out of place, yet he could not pinpoint it. Usually, you would be elated to see him, but recently you were far more reserved from your husband. Aemond was not sure if he should be upset or concerned, but did not ponder on the thought too much as he allowed himself to attend to his duties rather than his wife. 
With a sigh and a light cough to clear his throat, the prince finally spoke once more, “Come to bed…”
The pause settled again before your soft chuckle hung in the air. Quickly, you stood from your seated position and drowned the remainder of your chalice in one swig. You moved to the table and refilled your cup till the pitcher ran dry. Instead of crossing to your bed, you remained standing, only turned away from the man. This behavior caused Aemond to clench his jaw, subduing his urge to correct such disobedience. 
“Will you not come to bed with me?” Aemond summoned you again. 
Once more you chuckled at him, not sparing him any sort of look from you. Just the cruel chuckle of your acknowledgment. 
“Your husband demands—”
“My husband demands me of nothing,” You interrupted him, “And he would do well to find another bed to sleep in or find himself in tonight.”
At your words, Aemond crossed toward you, attempting to snatch the half-drunk chalice of wine from your hands, “It seems you have overindulged yourself. It would do you well to sleep before—”
“Before what? Before I continue to act out of turn?” With a fierce determination, your fingers clutched down onto the chalice so that Aemond could not separate it from you. Your words dripped with poison, “Or before you return to Harrenhal and bed the whore witch?”
At the mention of Alys, both you and Aemond let go of the goblet at the same time and simply watched it fall to the ground, red liquid covering the tile floors. 
“It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know or understand.”
“I understand it quite plainly that my husband is now an adulterer, just like his eldest brother and his damned uncle. It seems that disloyalty to marriage is quite a common trait among Targaryen men.”
Quickly, Aemond’s hand came to your throat, gripping the flesh to show how serious he was being, yet not hard enough to asphyxiate you, “Did you not understand my words before, my stupid little wife? It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know…”
“Oh? But I do know…” Your hands grabbed at his forearms, nails sinking into the flesh so that he would release you, “And it would do you well to learn just how smart your wife is…”
“I have known… I have known about Alys since your first rampage through the Riverlands. For moons, I remained confined to the Red Keep from your orders, and when they came to deliver news of you and your victories, I cheered. I still cheered when the maids told me the rumors between you and Alys, because I was grateful to the Seven that you were alive. Because I was still foolish enough to love you far more than you deserve.”
Tears threatened to spill over, but you swallowed them back. You would not allow Aemond the pleasure of your tears, only the fire of your anger. 
“She promised me security for my life and the lives of my men,” Aemond attempted to justify himself, “I could not risk it—”
“You could have offered her gold, offered her a title, or anything else besides your body! Instead, you break your vows. And you did not stop there, because you continue to fly back to Harrenhal whenever you desire the witch’s cunt to the point where your son and daughter could not even recognize you if they ever saw you!” You huffed out, scanning his face for any sign of emotion, anything at all.
“You have allowed your lust to overcome you, disappointing your wife, your mother, and the Seven. Worst of all, you shall now have your own bastard. At least this bastard will not be raised of the Street of Silk as your brother’s bastards have.”
“How did you know?” Aemond’s voice cracked while he asked the question, “How do you know she is pregnant?”
A smirk played on your lips at the question, “It seems that the Master of Whispers is a very devoted friend of the Queen, and with the Queen being your mother, she deemed it important enough to share the news with me, your faithful wife.”
His face went pale at the realization of how many people were aware of his infidelity. While Aemond remained silent, you twisted the knife deeper into his chest. You had been tortured with this knowledge for so long that you now enjoyed the pained expression on his face.
“I have always been good to you, devoted to you. Where others cowered from you, I loved you. Despite the warnings of your blood lust and deformity, I loved you and gave you two perfect children who study just as diligently as you once did. So while you found yourself in the arms of another woman, I tried not to curse your name and assure our children that all was well, even if their father would not be present for them. But now, I look at you like a curse upon my life. You have allowed yourself to be corrupted outside our marriage, and I can no longer offer you salvation for your selfishness…”
“What would you have me do?”
You laughed mockingly at his question. Instead of providing a proper answer, you only glared further into his good eye.
“Please,” Aemond gritted his teeth, hating that he allowed himself to beg an answer from you, “Just tell me what I should do!”
“I can not simply tell you what to do. That would be to easy - what lesson would you have learned?” You shook your head and a shuddering breath escaped you.
“You have to make a choice, Aemond,” Your hand gripped his wrist, forcing him to remain attentive to your words, “Either you atone for the sin your committed and the hurt you’ve caused or you reside in Harrenhal for the rest of your days…”
“This is a choice only you can make — a wife or a witch?”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n: I am considering making a follow-up to this one-shot, a blurb about the outcome of the options that Aemond has... maybe...
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misguidedasgardian · 10 months
Text
Storm's End
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HOTD MASTERLIST
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader
Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you
Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, mention's of children maiming, mentions of virginity loss and blood. READER MIGHT BE DEAD, OR MAYBE DEPENDS, COMPLETELY UP TO YOU, dragon's death though :(
+18 MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 3.5 k
Notes: I know this has been done before, but… this is my way to look at it. You are the daughter of Rhaenyra, she sends you to Storm’s End instead of Luke, and this is what ensues
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You know you should have turned back the moment your dragon took flight away from Dragonstone. 
There was something in the air
Grandmother Rhaenys, and your dear brothers flying by your side soothed you, made you remember you were not alone, but they soon parted way with you, Jace went North, as did Lucerys, Rhaenys went west, and you continued south
Towards Storm’s End
Those stormy clouds in the horizon must have been your first dark omen, but you didn’t pay attention to them, or to anything else really
Your mind was set
You had begged your mother to let you helped her, so she send you to the closest place, a short fly, a message delivered, and then you could return.
But what were you going to say?
you wanted to believe your mother’s words, that Lord Borros was going to be honored to receive you there, you were a young princess, no real threat, only a messenger, he was going to respect you, you were going to say your piece, and then you were going to take his answer back to your mother, as easy as that.
You held tightly onto your dragon’s reins as you flew amidst a cloud with rain within, getting you drenched within second
Karnax, under you, roared softly, feeling your uneasiness, trying to make you feel safer, and you did.
It was not relief what you felt when you saw the tall tower of Storm’s End in the horizon, it actually felt like your stomach had turned on itself, but that is the second sign you decided to ignore
Karnax was small, bigger than Arrax and a bit than Vermax, but he was still small enough to land in the outer courtyard, and you did 
Your saddle was wet, and you slid right off of it, landing heavily with your boots in the ground. 
You jumped when the light of a thunder brightened the sky for just a second, and then moments later the thunderous sound made the floor shake.
Karnax whined when you touched him, trying to soothe him, he was nervous, and soon you learnt why
Another, even louder, more monstrous sound made you flinch, and when you looked over the huge defensive walls of the castle, there she was. Vhagar raised her head, dwarfing the constructions covering her, growling as a warning.
She was indeed the largest and most dangerous dragon in the world
And she was here
That means that Aemond was also
Probably doing the same thing as you, trying to rally Lord Borros to his cause, to his side
To the Usurpers
The prospect of seeing your uncle made you tremble in fear, you had always been afraid of him, ever since he lost his eye, even more so after the last time you saw him
You have eavesdropped a conversation in which he had asked for your hand in marriage and Rhaenyra had crudely rejected him, he did not reacted well
It did not help that it was the same day of the Driftmark trials
He had frighten you so much your mother send you back the same night, only a few weeks away 
“Sobes Karnax, Lykyri”, you whispered soothingly, patting her snout, he whined, worried, but it was too late now, you couldn’t back down, you wondered if you were trying to calm him, or expected that he would sooth you back. 
So ignoring your body, mind, heart, soul, dragons, the weather and everything in existence around you, you decided to walk towards the guards guarding the entrance to the Castle
“I have a message for Lord Borros from Queen Rhaenyra”, you said quickly, before you lose your momentum, they barely nodded and started walking, you followed suit, trying to fix your drenched clothes
The Storm had catched up with you.
You could still hear it raging behind you as you entered the main hall of the castle of the Baratheons, you had never been here before, and it amazed you the immensity of it, it was rounded and at least three stories tall, ending in a huge vault over your heads, front here you could see multiple passages leading to the rest of the construction, but you could look no more
“The Princess (Y/N) Velaryon”, presented the guard, “Daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen”
Queen
You thought bitterly, as you found Lord Borros seated on his throne.
But your gaze was immediately taken away
Aemond
He stood at the side of the throne, standing straight by one of Borros’ daughters, as he heard your name he immediately turned
He looked dangerous
Dresses head to toe in black leather, his hair combed perfectly, the eyepatch cutting his face in half
You wondered if he could notice you trembling from that far
You guessed he could since he looked terribly amused at your presence, his naturally curved lips smirked.
But you didn't came here for him, you turned your gaze towards to the Lord of the Stormlands
“Lord Borros, I brought you a message from my mother, the Queen”, you didn’t realize you had a stone inside your throat until now, almost choking in our own words, you were thankful for the acoustic of the place or else nobody could have heard you
“Yet early this day I received an envoy from the king”, he said then, “so which is it? King or Queen? the House of the dragon doesn’t seem to know who rules it”, he was already crossed with someone or something and you cursed yourself for being so weak, sounded so pathetically 
And then he laughed at his own joke and you shook, perhaps he was laughing at you
You looked fleetingly at Aemond
Perhaps to make sure he stood where he was
He frightened you
You begged the gods to make him stay there, as he stood, unmovable like the statues of Dragonstone 
“What’s your mother’s message?”, the Lord of Storm’s End did not take well to your distraction, so you tried your best to reach with your arm and this one not to shake, to prove to everyone there, to Lord Borro’s daughters, him, your uncle, and the court, how scared you were
A soldier took your message hastily and gave it to the Lord
He sighed, frustrated, and call in the maester
In a silly second you thought fleetingly of your brother’s giggles when you tell them the rumors were true and indeed Lord Borros didn’t know how to read, you remembered fleetingly that you suggested it was because he had hit himself many times on the head while jousting
But you shook those thoughts away, when you felt the small hairs in the back of your hair stand up, as Aemond’s deep gaze was on you
For a second, only the wind making the stones whistle as sing could be heard, and then the ruffling of paper the maester made while reading the letter.
Your uncle’s gaze didn’t leave you for a second, so you tried to look away from him, only stealing glances to make sure he hadn't move
That he was still several feet away from you, with people in between you
You didn't want him near you
He frightened you
He hated you
You knew this 
“Remind me of my father’s oaths?”, asked Borros, enraged, you turned to look at him, scared, “King Aegon at least came with an offer, my banners and swords for a marriage pact”
Poor girl, you thought briefly 
“If I do what your mother bids, who of my household will you marry, girl? uh?”
“My lord…”, you could turn this around, you could, you needed to try, to explain, to plead to his honor, “I’m not free to marry, I’m already betrothed to Cregan Stark”, you said, and you were not completely lying, your big brother was flying North now with the proposal in his hand
Aemond hummed mockingly at your words, so your gaze landed on him again.
He still was amused, even more so now, you shook in your place, trembling like a leaf in the autumn winds 
“So you come with empty hands”, said Borros, more angry than before, “go home pup, and tell your mother the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog she can whistle up in need to set against her enemies”, he said rapidly
You had failed
You tried to swallow your tears as the stone in your throat but you just couldn’t do it
“I shall take your answer to the Queen, My Lord”, you whimpered, and when you looked at the pity in the daughters’ faces you realized your voice did sounded broken and defeated
Weak
You turned to leave, sad because you failed, but relieved that this had come to an end
“Wait”, you trembled in your place, stopping immediately at your uncle’s call.
You turned slowly, fearfully, to look back at him
“My lady Strong”
You whimpered
“Uncle?’, you were acknowledging him, but it sounded more like a question
Weak
“Did you really think you could just fly upon the realms, trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”
You are the thieves
But the words never reached your lips, instead you wanted to hide your head between your shoulders, almost feeling ashamed
That much power Aemond had over you, the power to make you feel like you were in the wrong, and he was in the right
Ever since that night
When your little brother took his eye
The girl by his side took a step back, like giving him space, and that made you take a step back, less and less things could protect you from your uncle, your hand instinctively went to the pommel of the short sword your stepfather Daemon had begged you to carry, you didn’t know how to use it, but nonetheless… it couldn’t hurt
“I will not fight with you uncle, I came as a messenger”, you said, your voice, again, broken, weak, with fear and sadness
You had failed 
“A fight would be little challenge”, he said dismissively
“I’m aware”, you admitted, if it came to blows, you stood no chance against his incredible skill with the sword, even if you meant a fight with words filled with poison
“No…”, his hand went to his eyepatch, and form one single movement he took it out of his face, revealing a sapphire where his eyeball should be
You whimpered, taking a step back
It had taken you by surprise, not that you found him monstrous, or anything, it was just… incredible
“...You brother is indebted to me”
You really wished, in the bottom of your heart, that he would have let this go, if not for your brother, for himself, but he didn’t he hasn't, and that made him so incredible dark, resentful, twisted and mean
And that is what you were most afraid of 
“It was an accident…”
“I want you to pay instead”, you whined, taking a step back
“I have nothing…”
“A small payment in blood will suffice…”, you looked at Lord Borros, alarmed, he clearly was not meant for THAT, did he? Did he plan on slaying you there where you stood?, in front of all this people?
“...I will not breed you”, a single tear escaped your eye at his crude words, “I plan on gifting our bloodied sheets to your mother”, you looked back at the Lord of Storm’s End and he looked back at you, concerned
This was the man supposed to wed one of his daughters
“No!”, you cried, in defense of yourself
“So you are a craven as well as a traitor, as your brothers…”
“Not here!”, Borros finally intervened, but still you could not breathe, you were terrified
You never wanted to believe the gazes your uncle gave you were ones of desire, and dark intentions of bedding you, you never thought… 
“GIVE YOURSELF TO ME, OR I WILL TAKE YOU BASTARD!”, you shrieked as he advanced on you with certain and long steps, you stumbled backwards trying to prevent him getting near you
“NOT IN MY HALL!”, the thunderous voice of Borros made him stop in his tracks, “the girl came as an envoy, I will not have bloodshed of any kind beneath my roof”
Lord Borros’ words came of little comfort, not when your uncle had taken a dagger of his belt and was threatening you with it, the storm outside, the lightning made his sapphire gleam meanly
“Take the princess back to her dragon, now!”, commanded Lord Borros and you, giving a titanic effort, managed to walk (and not sprint at high speed) out of the hall
Aemond watched you go and smirked, making the dagger dance in his hand
You were his to take
He looked back at the girl he had begun to court to notice she was far away from him now, clearly scared of him
“I will be back shortly to resume negotiations”, he said meanly
“Don’t bother”, said Floris, standing now next to a guard, she would not like to be courted by him now, “I’m not interested in a man that is pure bark and no bite”
When you stepped outside, the storm was raging, you were drenched in second, wet from head to toes, but you couldn’t paid no mind to such things now
Karnax felt your fear, how frightening you were and he advanced towards you whining and growling desperate
“Lykiri Karnax” [calm], “gūrogon īlva hen kesīr” [take us out of here] 
Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong, you let your tears fall freely now that nobody could notice nor see you, another Lightning broke the skies from afar and when you turned…
Vhagar was gone
There was no way he could have left before you, it couldn’t, it wasn’t possible
He was in negotiations with the Baratheons, you had to go, so he wouldn’t catch you.
You thought he was going to let you be, because it had been your brother who took his eye, not you
Oh how wrong you were
“Why?”, you cried, trying to make sense of it all as you climbed onto your dragon’s saddle, “Sobes, Karnax”, you called, he growled but obeyed you, he also wanted to get out of here.
You needed to get back to your mother, to Dragonstone, to your brothers and stepfather, they needed you, but you somehow knew that wasn’t going to be possible, a crippling fear took a hold in your body, you felt like you could barely move, your body being so tense. 
The rain hit your face with strength, the highers you flied, you only secured your staps tightly and held into your reins hardly 
Karnax flapped his wings with difficulty, but he succeeded in keep flying, you wanted to relax, you were flying away from Storm’s End, the Baratheons, your uncle, everyone, but something told you it wasn’t going to be that easy
You wanted Karnax to fly faster, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach 
You whimpered in fear
something was wrong, terribly wrong
You felt a low growl coming from above and you cried, lowering your head, not wanting to face it, face him, and what he was going to do to you once he had you within his grasp
He was coming for you 
And the moment you took to the skies, you raised the bet, he was not simply going to take you now, he couldn't not flying like this...
He rode the largest dragon in the world and you one of the smallest
You grabbed into your reigns and hoped Karnax would fly faster, but you couldn’t ask more of him of what you were already asking
You gained the courage to look up and you got a glimpse of a large looming shadow over you
Why?, you whimpered, crying harder, and Karnax growled
Why you?, you loved him once, you were friends, you played, and read together as kids, you had promised you could share little Karnax, and he had agreed. 
But he got his own dragon, the largest in the world, and from that moment he pushed you aside and called you a bastard despite your Targaryen features and the fact that he had never called you that
He almost killed your brothers and then Luke took his eye.
After what transcurred in Driftmark with the Queen and your mom Aemond had come to your room in the hour of the bat, you woke up with a knife in your cheek and him over you, his hand in your throat
You never knew why he had come to your chambers and not luke’s or jace’s 
He always knew you were the weakest one
You were a woman, he was a man 
You looked ahead and shrieked once again when you saw Vhagar coming at you amongst the dark stormy clouds, at full speed
“NO!”, she changed her trajectory, going up in the last second, her feet and claws passing right by you, you could even feel them passing right by your head
Please
You were going to die
You could hear Aemond’s laugh, ricocheting amongst the clouds 
He was amused by you
He hated you 
 And now he was going to kill you.
Karnax growled, scared too out of his mind, you could feel him, deep in your gut, the pure and sheer instinct to fight or fly kicking in, and both of you opting for the latter 
just when you thought you had lost him, you heard the flap of huge wings behind you, you turned to look, and Vhagar huge open jaws appeared trough the storm, ready to swallow you whole.
But Karnax was fast, and Vhagar liked to play with her food 
“I see you!”, you heard from behind, and the sound that Vhagar’s jaws made when they close grabbing into thin air made your skin prickle, “Libōnos”, [bastard] 
Your body was tense as a bow, you could barely feel your legs that were tightened around your saddle, the water, despite your leather cape, has got under the clothes, and froze you all over, that you felt like you were made of ice, you could barely move, your fingers were not going to survive this even if you did
Vhagar was still behind you as you commanded your dragon to fly downwards, to gain speed
You made him turn and twist in the air, but to no avail, the monstrous Vhagar had her eyes set on her prey and she was not going to let go, you use your whole body and strength to pull her to make her change her trajectory from one moment to another, she might be bigger, but you were faster
Deep down you knew it was all going to be for nothing
He was coming for you
He hated you
And you could hear his sick laugh as he was laughing in your ear
You soon could make out the sea under you and as you looked to your left there was a cliff splitted in two, a risk in the middle, you had a change, you might be able to flight in between, but Vhagar wouldn’t
Your dragon read your mind and went there, seeking refuge 
It has worked, you looked back to see VHagar fighting to make her heavy body fly upwards, your uncle’s grunts cut trough the air reaching you, it was insane
He was insane
He had a grudge for 8 years, boiling and simmering in rage, anger, and sadness, and you were the one that was going to get the worst of it
You felt relieved even, that it was you and not sweet Lucerys
Better you than him 
“JĒMELÃ GÊLŸNI ENKÂ!”, he screamed [you owe me a debt], “BYKA!”, little one
Karnax flied diligently through the cliffs and rocks, you looked up and he was still there, chasing you, looming over you
“I lied!”, you heard then, “I will give you my bastard”, a pain spread through your chest, all your sorrow, pain, fear, exploding, taking a hold on your body, preventing you from breathing properly, even with the skies falling upon your head, with your life in your uncle’s hands.
You screamed when Karnax again flew in open skies as the protection of the cliff was taken away. It was a scream of agony, frustration, and fear
Oh so much fear
 But the gods, or whomever, granted you a small mercy, the clouds were thick and the sea was a few feet under you, they concealed you from your predator chasing you. 
You took a shaky, long breath, despite the lump in your throat present since you left Dragonstone
You needed to get yourself together 
Keep flying North, soon the skies will clear, you couldn’t let fear control you….
Fear
The last thing you heard was Vhagar growling, and Karnax high screeched when the biggest dragon in the world sank her teeth in him, catching his legs and tail, completely destroying him.
“AH!”, you barely got a scream yourself, she didn’t catch you, but so did half your dragon, now dead.
“VHAGAR! NO! NO VHAGAR!”, is the last thing you heard
The next?
The white noise of water, all around you, the cold grasping you, hugging you tightly, not letting you move as the water moved around you taking you prisoner 
For better or worse, Vhagar’s had completely destroyed the saddle, releasing you, and now you were there, by a gift or a curse from the gods, amongst the dark tides of Shipwreck bay, sinking slowly, finally you didn’t feel more fear, only the instinct to survive.
You were a true Velaryon at last. 
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huramuna · 4 months
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beware the sapphire peak - chapter 1.
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aemond targaryen x wife reader x alys rivers a period piece, set in 1902.
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you're a young, american lady who is an aspiring author. you are wooed by a mysterious and charming savant from england. swept off your feet, you're whisked away to his family's ancient estate, Dragonstone Hall. but with all stories, secrets are hiding around every corner, and your suitor is no different. a crimson peak inspired mini series. (this will likely be about 3 parts)
@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!
content: smut, angst, gaslighting, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, alys in her girlboss gatekeep gaslight era, no use of y/n, afab reader, pre-established alysmond, this isn't going where you think it is (it might be), infidelity-ish, polyamory
to death we dance - salem's heir • the flower duet - sabine devieilhe & marianne crebassa
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“You were nearly late, miss,” one of the butlers murmured in your ear. “The music’s just started.” 
“There is a quote about being fashionably late, isn’t there?” you mused, taking his gloved hand as he helped you up the steps. 
It was a banquet for your father’s business, a celebration of having struck gold (oil) and turning a huge profit. Or, in your words, an excuse for the high and mighty to get plastered and dance the night away. Your fist clenched upon the train of your dress– a lovely evening gown in eggshell white, with hand embroidered lilacs and lavender petals on it, spindling up your bodice like a trellis. Your usually somewhat unruly hair was tamed into a braided and pinned up-do, with an expensive broach poked into the bun of hair in the shape of a falling wisteria branch. 
Your father was the first to greet you, peeling away from the gaggle of portly oil barons. He kissed your cheek. “You look lovely tonight, my dear. A vision in purple, I must say.”
You smiled back at him. “Yes, well, you all but wringed my arm to get me to attend– and you shall hold up your end of the bargain… right?” you hummed softly, batting your eyelashes. 
He let out a small sigh, nodding. “I will send your manuscript to the publisher– the editor in chief is here tonight, if you’d care to mingle. Amongst… many other eligible bachelors, I might add.” 
Your father had spent the better part of the last three years gently trying to pair you up with a suitor for marriage. He was a patient man, as he had droned on about so many times before, but his patience was waning. You were twenty-one years old, and apparently, that was a ghastly sight– to be twenty-one and unmarried with no promising prospects. 
Of course, you couldn’t care less. You were more focused on finishing your manuscript in that time– you had a knack for writing and reveled in works of fiction that tended to lean to the darker sides of things. It had finally reached a point you were somewhat happy with, and had convinced your father to chat up his well connected colleagues so you may be able to send the first draft to a publisher.
The price for that, however, was to entertain suitors. At a gala. Dressed and primped like a Thanksgiving turkey. It was all so dreary to you– the ladies stared at you and whispered, citing you as the dreary one. 
Breaking away from your father with a tiny smile, you began to mingle– as well as you could, anyhow. You were awkward and a bit sheltered and it showed. However, once you said who your father was, dollar signs would flash in the eyes of the men you were speaking with, and they would push forward in the conversation. You weren’t ugly by any means and could become a good wife to some young entrepreneur– but you didn’t want that.
You were about fed up with it all three hours later, your nails clinking against the glass of champagne you were nursing for the better part of thirty minutes. Your look of slight annoyance managed to stave off any other wanton suitors– until another man approached you. You had exchanged some glances with him during the night, but you didn’t recognize him. He was tall, exceedingly taller than any of the other men there. His blonde hair, so pale it was almost white in hue, was cinched at the nape of his neck in a clean ponytail, falling between his shoulder blades. He was in a custom-fitted three piece black and green suit– you could tell from how perfectly it was hugging him, in all the right places.
A familiar heat came to your cheeks as you watched him saunter over to you with an intent in his pale blue eyes– eye? One of them, you noted as he came closer, was slightly off-color from the other and moved a bit slower. Likely fake, you thought. The light casted over the planes of his face, chiseled as it was, illuminating the slightly raised, puckered skin near the fake eye in a distinctual scar. He looked just like the perfect inspiration for a protagonist in one of your novels– or mayhaps an antagonist. He seemed to skim the line between the two in appearance alone.
Curious.
“My lady,” he greeted as he finally broke the air of silence between you, his arms placed behind him in a very calculated manner. “Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” he asked then, a brow perked. His accent wasn’t American– that you knew for certain– likely something European. 
“As much as I can, sir,” you responded coolly, despite being caught slightly off guard by his sudden and overwhelming presence– a dark cloud in a perfectly tailored suit. “I hope that the…” you cleared your throat, trying to sound a little more confident than you likely were. “The… event is to your liking.” you mustered a smile, diverting your gaze to your champagne, hoping there may be the secrets to being a good conversationalist somewhere within the bubbles.
He chuckled, the sound low and husky. It caused a shiver to go up your spine. “The event is well and fine, my lady. Are you… the proprietor of the gala tonight? I wouldn’t expect a beautiful thing such as yourself to plan something like this.”
You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. He was complimenting you and insulting the party at the same time. “No– I am not. I’d never choose such… dreary musicians for an event like this. They’re playing for a wake rather than a party– that would be my father’s doing.” you slipped it into the conversation, that this was your father’s party, trying to gauge if this handsome stranger was after what all of the others were.
Surprisingly, his expression, smooth and cool with the barest hint of a smile perking at his naturally upturned lips, didn’t change. “Dreary,” he repeated, “Melancholic, gloomy, monotonous, vapid– all good words to describe the state of affairs.”
“You have quite the expansive vocabulary, Mister…” your voice trailed off, an inadvertent way to ask for his name.
“Targaryen– Aemond Targaryen. And you?” he reached his hand out to shake yours – how incredibly formal– as you returned your own name with a wide-eyed stare.
“Targaryen. As in… the ancient bloodline? Descended from dragons, close to royalty, Dragonstone estate Targaryen?” you asked, mouth slightly agape. From what you knew of them, they were as close to the height of English royalty, real royalty, as there was in the current year, 1902. Their wealth alone, minus all of the titles, made your father’s look like a pissant trust fund. 
“The very same. You’re familiar with my family?”
“Ehm– familiar, more so I’ve heard of you all. Your family’s name comes up quite often in my father’s social circles. And I am quite nosy.”
“And what do you think?”
“About… your family? Mr. Targaryen–” 
“Call me Aemond.”
“Aemond– I don’t really know much besides the height of your prestige– and your family’s estate, Dragonstone. My father brought me back some photographs of it from his trips over the pond. It’s quite beautiful.”
“Your father brought you pictures of our home?”
“N-not just yours! I collect photographs of old estates, mostly ones from Europe. I like to use them for inspiration for my… stories. I’m a writer– a novice, mostly.”
“A writer? Have you published anything I might know?” 
“Oh, God no–” you laughed, covering your face slightly with your hand. “I’ve not yet been published. I actually sent my manuscript to… or will be sending one to a publisher soon. Hopefully.”
“What do you like to write?” he asked then, leaning a bit closer to you as if he was actually enjoying conversing with you. “Romance? Children’s fables?” he teased softly, his one eye gleaming. He was quite handsome, you thought.
“I like horror– mysteries, gothic fiction. I’m quite enamored with the… macabre and weird,” you admit. “I hope that doesn’t frighten you.” 
Aemond grinned, his teeth shining, canines pronounced against his thin lips. “Oh, yes, it does frighten me. But, all good horror stories should frighten their readers, yes? I expect you’re a fan of Vampyre? Perhaps Dracula?” 
“Both are good. My favorite, however, is Frankenstein. Mary Shelley is a genius. The Castle of Otranto is also wonderful and the pioneer of the genre. I remember trying to read it when I was younger and being scared of the dark hallways at night. Later on in life, those dark hallways enthused me enough to write about them– hence my… fascination with old houses.”
“Old homes certainly do have their fair share of secrets, don’t they?” he paused, straightening his lapel slightly before leaning back in towards you. “And do you believe what they say? That Mary’s husband wrote it and published it under her name?”
Your brows knit together in slight irritation. “Of course not. Why would he need to do such a thing? I hope you don’t mind me saying, but men already have enough advantages as is– publishing under a woman’s name instead might be considered a disadvantage.”
“Will you be publishing under your own name?” 
You blinked, taking a sip from your champagne. It was something you considered and went back and forth upon. “I haven’t decided. I have a pseudonym ready just in case.”
“Do tell– so I know what name to look for on the shelves within a year.” 
God, was he ever charming– and without even trying, really. He was well-spoken with a voice that was soft and almost whispery. It made butterflies bubble in the pit of your stomach– now that was a feeling you weren’t familiar with. “Dorian Gray.”
“Cheeky woman.” he mused. “Fancy a dance, Miss Gray?”
“... I suppose I could be swayed.”
Your dance together, to say the least, was a success– it started month’s worth of courting after. Aemond took you on the most splendid nights out, wining and dining you like you were a gorgeous, interesting debutante. It was exhilarating to say the least and made you feel… truly wanted– especially since his family was exceedingly wealthy, your father’s wealth couldn’t have attracted him. 
He took you to the theater, out to wondrous restaurants, and bought you various gifts like jewelry, writing supplies and outfits to wear when you went out.
It all felt very much like a dream to you– something beyond your usual, weary routine that had hardly ever changed since your mother died when you were eight years old. You’d recused into yourself then, the dark hallways that scared you so fiercely just before her death now seemed welcoming. You thrived in the dark, like a moth. 
But now, you felt something more akin to a butterfly, bathing in the sun’s light. 
It wasn’t a great surprise when Aemond asked your father for his blessing to marry you. Your father, who had harped you for years to get married, was suddenly apprehensive. 
He pulled you aside, arm around you. “Do you like this boy, dear?”
“Y-yes, father– very much so.”
“I’ll be honest, sweetheart. I’m not exactly keen on letting my only daughter go off with… some man–” 
“He isn’t just some man, father! He’s a Targ–” 
“Don’t interrupt,” he chastised firmly. “I’ve had my people look into his family further– it’s a whole mess, issues with succession, backstabbing, incest, the whole nine yards,” he took a measured breath. “But I’ve heard nothing but good things about… Aemond. But… you’d be so far away. You’d be off living in the annals of England, a whole boat’s ride away.”
“This is what you wanted, father! For me to marry, for me to be happy! This is the happiest I’ve been in… so long. You must see that?”
The creases in your father’s forehead relaxed as he regarded you for a long moment, before turning to Aemond, who was waiting patiently off to the side. He let go of your shoulder and walked to your beau, staring at him sternly. “Will you treat her right? Give her everything she deserves and more?”
Aemond perked up slightly, rubbing the side of his forefinger with his thumb in a seemingly nervous gesture. “Of course, sir. I’ll give her everything I have and more. She will be regarded as a Lady– the Lady Targaryen of Dragonstone Hall, and she wouldn’t be treated with any less respect than a Lady deserves.”
Your father’s gaze narrowed, taking it all into careful thought. “... very well. You have my blessing, son. But, one whiff of even a tear from her eye on your account, and your nads are forfeit. I may not be as well-off as your family, but I’ve got a lot of friends in a lot of places.”
– 
The marriage was a quick affair, as your father, and now Aemond, knew you had no patience for pomp and frills. Aemond gave you a beautiful ring with an absolutely gigantic sapphire inlaid in the center, citing it as a family heirloom from centuries past. Your father saw you off onto the boat, bawling his eyes out. You’d never seen your father cry– not once. 
As husband and wife, you both agreed to wait to celebrate your wedding night until you arrived in England at his family’s estate to your marital bed.
The trip overall was a little under a week’s time upon a luxurious liner, where you both enjoyed champagne and each other’s company. You craved your husband, and he craved you in the same, but you each wished to keep your agreement intact. But it was increasingly hard, as you held one another close each night and his need for you was clearly pressed to your lower back.
Dragonstone Hall was a few hours' carriage ride north of the port and was nestled upon a high-ridged cliff. It was as gorgeous as the pictures had depicted, even moreso. It was ancient, imposing against the skyline and mingling to the clouds, where sea birds and ravens alike swirled above the towering watch towers that were supported by stone walls with vines grasping to them like lifelines. 
It was gorgeous, gothic and most definitely haunted– a perfect place for a woman of horror such as yourself. 
Aemond helped you out of the carriage, a hand placed upon your waist as he guided you beyond the gates. Your eyes were wide with wonder, taking in the scenery like a breath of fresh air. Tears threatened to spill over suddenly, as you were just overwhelmed with everything going on. You were married to someone you loved, who loved you– and were the Lady Targaryen of Dragonstone Hall. 
“Something wrong, my love?” Aemond whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your lobe.
“N-no– I’m just… very happy.”
He wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb, clearing your vision. You glanced up at one of the windows on the third story of the castle. Someone was staring back at you.
A lady. Her hair was red, her skin almost translucent. 
You must’ve been imagining it, surely. Looking to another window, another visage appeared.
Another– this time with dirty blonde hair, her blue eyes ghastly and bloodshot. She was practically see through. 
You pressed closer to Aemond, blinking profusely– it must’ve been the exhaustion from the nights on the boat catching up to you. Once you rubbed your eyes, you looked back; the figures were gone. 
As you approached the main door of the estate, another face caught your eye. 
Another woman– with dark hair and sullen, emerald eyes. They pierced through you like two heavy jewels, making goosebumps prickle atop your arms. She wasn’t ghastly or undeathly like the other two, and when you rubbed your eyes, she was still there.
She was still there, very much a living person in the flesh, with flowing blood and a beating heart. And she was beautiful.
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slavicdelight · 5 months
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HIRAETH
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targ! Royce! f! reader
Summary: Hiraeth - A Welsh word meaning a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return; a home which maybe never was. Nostalgia, yearning, and grief, for the lost places of your past or a sense of home.
Warnings: blood, murder, violence, angst, canon divergence
A/N: This is part 2 of EPHEMERAL
ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ
You awoke to the sound of crashing outside your chambers. Looking at the other side of the bed, you noticed that Aemond wasn’t there and the spot he occupied is cold, which means he has been gone for a while now. You stretched your arms and decided to get up to check the sound, only to find out that the doors were closed and you couldn’t get out. With a scowl, you tried to pry the entrance open, and when that didn’t work you banged on the wood and called out for help. The loud noise woke your daughter up as she started crying for attention, and you decided to stop your efforts and comfort her. “Good morning my dear girl.” you greeted Alysanne while picking her up from the cradle. “Oh, I’m sorry to have woken you little dragon. Did you sleep fine?” you asked and rocked her back and forth to calm her. When she opened her violet eyes to look at you, the love overcame you even stronger, she was your miracle, you didn’t know earlier that you could love someone as much as you did her. Nothing is equal to a mother’s love. You were so mesmerized by her, that you weren’t aware of the door opening and your husband walking in. Aemond stood in the doorway looking at you both, his heart warming up at the picture in front of his eye. You, his beloved wife, looked ethereal as always. The rays of sunshine, that burst through the window made the skin on your face glowing, and your attire added to the notion of thinking you an angel. Seeing you holding Alysanne, the epitome of the love you both share, made the sight even more beautiful. He slowly walked closer and placed his hands around your waist, making you jump a little.
“Aemond! You have frightened me!” you scolded him, turning to stand with him face to face. “I am extremely sorry, my love. It was not my intention.” he apologised with a faint smile, but the tone of his voice made you worried. There was something tense in it, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you being held in the room. “What’s wrong?” you asked him, making him sigh. He took the little girl from your arms, placing her back in the cradle, much to her protests, and led you to sit on the bed. You complied and waited eagerly for his answer, which he provided in an uneasy voice. “King Viserys is dead.” you sucked in your breath. The news wasn’t exactly unpredictable, but it still caught you off guard. While the king didn’t pay you much attention growing up, he was still your uncle, your blood, and that made you somewhat sad. “Oh.” was the only thing that left your mouth, as you were processing what you just learned, but your husband wasn’t done yet. “Apparently, he wished for Aegon to succeed him.” and with that your head whipped around to look at him so fast, that one could thing you broke the neck. This was new, as for years Viserys did nothing, but defend Rhaenyras claim to the throne and her position as heir, neglecting his other children in turn. Aegon as king was a bizarre thought. You also saw the distaste in Aemond’s features once he shared the news, everyone at court knew he detested his brother for everything he put him through as a child, and for being a useless waste of space. “I’m so sorry Aemond.” you told him, grabbing one of his hands to squeeze in a comforting manner. “For what? We all knew it would happen sooner or later.” you got up to stand before him and looking straight into his eyes you said “Yes, but he was still your father. You’re allowed to mourn for him” he stood up angrily and turned away to look into the burning flames in the fireplace
“He never noticed me. He never noticed any of us. It was always Rhaenyra for him. It was af if we were not his children, more like distant relatives he only had to see once in a while. He was no father to me. Criston Cole was more of a father than he was.” you walked to him and hugged his back, placing you chin on his shoulder. “What’s done is done. We need to get ready for our duties and coronation of a new king.” he said turning to you and kissing you on your forhead. In that moment a servant appeared and told your husband that his grandsire wished to see him. That left you alone in the chamber and you decided to call the maids to dress you and Alysanne for the day, as you were planning to check on Helaena and see how she was holding up. You chose one of your many beautiful sapphire gowns with long sleeves and dragons embroidered on the skirt, it was a gift from Aemond. The color resembles the eye he hides under the eyepatch. You also own a big collection of sapphire jewellery, the common folk taken to calling you and your husband the Sapphire Prince and Princess.
You sat with Heleana as the children played together with the maids watching over them. “How are you feeling, Hel? With the pressure of being crowned queen soon enough.” you asked your friend. “There is a beast beneath the boards.” she muttered, but quickly recvered to ansewr your question. “To speak truthfully, I don’t know. I never wanted the crown, all I wish for is spending time with my children, away from all these schemes and politics.” she said in a sad voice. You reached over to take her hand, which she accepted. It was known that Helaena did not like touching, but you were her sister, her dearest friend, and for that reason you were the exception. “I’m sorry about all of this. It shouldn’t have been your burden to carry.” it was a pity that she was married to Aegon, he didn’t deserve her. Soon Queen Alicent came to join you for tea and the three of you tried to forget about what was to come, if only for a little while.
time skip
It was time to crown the new king. You, Aemond, and Helaena stood in the Dragon Pit, watching people flooding in. Otto proposed to hold the ceremony before the eyes of common folk, so that they would recognize Aegon as the rightful king. It was a smart move, you have to admit that, but you knew that it would not stop Daemon and Rhaenyra from trying to take the throne back. In truth you didn’t care who sat the throne, all you wanted was to fly back to Runestone with your husband and daughter and live your life peacefully there. You begged Alicent to let you leave, that you wanted nothing to do with their schemes, but it all fell of deaf ears. She only told you that it was Aemonds duty to stand by his brother’s side, and as his wife, you should support him. Aemond noticed you anxiously playing with the ring on your finger and placed a hand on your back to help you ease up a bit. In that moment you saw Alicent arrive at the scene, which means Aegon is outside and the coronation is going to start. “People of King’s Landing. It is the saddest of days. King Viserys the Peaceful passed away.” started Otto Hightower and you heard the murmuring all around the pit. “It is also a joyous day, as he left us with his final wish for his son Aegon to succeed him.” The soldiers marched into the room creating a path for the late king’s eldest son to walk towards the stand. Once Ser Criston Cole placed the Conqueror’s crown atop his head, he stood up and looked at every member of his family for approval. When his eyes landed on you, you gave him a quick courtesy with a clenched jaw. He then turned to the crowd and lifted the sword, Blackfyre, and you could’ve swear that in that moment, he started to like his new position and power.
A few seconds later the happy shouts became screams of terror, as the ground began to fall and from below emerged a red dragon. It was Meleys with Princess Rhaenys at her back. The Red Queen came closer to where you all stood. Aemond quickly put you and Helaena behind himself for protection, and you noticed Alicent doing the same with Aegon in the corner of your eye. You thought to yourself that that was it, you would all die in the flames, but the dragon only roaerd in your faces and Rhaenys escaped, no doubt to Dragonstone to inform Rhaenyra and your father of what transpired. The image of Daemon made you shiver, now you were sure that he will be out for your blood.
Once in the safety of the castle, you hastily made way to the nursery to be with your daughter. You found her in the arms of one of the maids. You put her on the rug and started playing with her. About half an hour later Aemond came into the room. “They’re sending me to Storm’s End as an envoy. I’m to bind Lord Borros’ loyalty to our cause.” you frowned and tried to talk him out of it. “No. Have them send someone else and let us go back to the Vale.” you saw him lower his gaze and try to stop you, but you didn’t let him. “You know that Daemon won’t let this slide, he will be out for revenge against his wife! I don’t want us to be caught in the crossfire!”. “Aegon’s my brother. I have to do this, as it is my duty. I will go and offer the Baratheon fool Daeron’s hand in marriage to his daughter. I will be back before you know it.”. You didn’t like it and had a bad feeling, but you knew how stubborn your husband is and there will be no talking him out of it. You let him go, and for the next couple of days, you stayed close with Helaena and Alysanne. Finally, when you heard the unmistaken sound of Vhagar, you were elated, as it meant your dearest husband was back. Without a thought, you sprinted towards the council chamber where you knew he would head first. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you heard next. Aemond Targaryen committed the greatest sin known to men - kinslaying. He murdered his nephew, Lucerys Velaryon in the skies, while chasing him on his war dragon. “You have lost only one eye, how could you be so blind?!” chastised him Otto Hightower, while the new king sat and laughed in delight. “You have doomed us all!” screamed Alicent and you were just horrified. You knew they would retaliate, ater all, your husband killed Rhaenyra’s favourite child. Your head kept spinning as images of could they do now invaded your mind. “The bastard is dead. Others would be soon too. It seems to me that we ought to have a feast in my beloved brother’s honour.” said Aegon and made no room to argue, while you just got up and ran back to your chambers.
When you entered your rooms, the tears spilled. You cried for the boy, for your husband and for yourself, but most importantly, you cried for your daughter. Now there was no way for you all to return to normal life, not when your husband began the war, that will certainly become marred with even more bloodshed soon enough. Aemond walked into the room not much later, and flinched when he heard your desperate cries. When he tried to touch you, you just backed into the corner. “Do not touch me!” you screamed, trying to compose yourself. “How could you?! Do you have any idea what you have done?!” you continued yelling. It was a good thing Alysanne was left under the care of Helaena and wasn’t there to witness the fight of her parents. “My love…” he started but you cut him off. “No! Don’t you dare! You put all of us in grave danger! They will want blood for this! My father won’t stop until he avenges Luke! Blood will flow this castle! There would be no peace for us! No mercy!” you started hyperventilating, you were having a panic attack. “Darling please, listen to me. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Vhagar didn’t listen to my commands. She devoured him on her own accord.” you just looked at him, your gaze full of hurt and fear, it broke his heart seeing you like this. “Your mother is right. You have doomed us all! You shouldn’t chase him in the first place, what did you expect to happen!?”. He noticed you shaking and took you into his arms as you tried to break free. After a minute of struggle, your energy drained out and you just accepted the hug, just laying in his embrace motionless. As much as you hated him for what he’s done, you loved him way to much to be angry for long. Now you needed to focus on protecting your family, no matter the cost, as you knew that the payment will come sooner or later.
It wasn’t until one night, when your husband was away gathering support for Team Green, that the retaliation for Lucerys came. You and Helaena were on your way to Queen Dowager’s chambers with your children, as it was a routine lately, to spend some time before heading to bed. Once you entered the chambers, you saw Alicent Hightower gagged and bound, as well as two unfamiliar men standing inside the room. Both quickly overpowered you and the princess and barred the door. “Tis’ nothing personal. A debt to be paid. Nothin’ more” said one while they both took the children captive. “The False Queen needs to choose, which son has to die. Fast before we make the choice ourselves.” said the other assailant. “Please! They’re innocent, spare them.” you tried pleading with them as Helaena offered hersef in the children’s place. “A queen is not a son.” said one man and ushered her to make a choice. You tried to get to the children but there was no way for you to do so, without harming the children in the process. “Maelor.” Helaena whispered. The younger son was still at the age where he didn’t understand what was happening around him, same as your daughter. “You heard that boy? Your mommy doesn’t love you” as while saying that, the man cut off the head of Jeahaerys, the oldest son of Aegon and Helaena, and the other one repeatedly stabbed little Alysanne in her cheast and belly. “NO!” you screamed as you saw the man throwing your daughter’s lifeless body, as if it was a useless rag. You and Helaena quickly made way to you fallen children weeping so horribly, that the whole castle heard it. The sound of grieving mothers tore through the walls, making anyone who heard it flinch. “No, no, no, no..”you muttered holding your daughter. “My light, please, open your eyes. Please.” you wailed as you rocked her in your arms, pleading to the Gods for it to be an awful nightmare. It was not an awful nightmare, but rather dreadful reality. The only thing you heard except for yours, Helaena and Alicent’s crying was the escape of the murderers and words “Black Queen sends her regards”.
While you were being attacked, your husband returned to the keep and immediately went to find you. Once in the castle, he heard the screams leading to his mother’s apartments and he hastily made way there, along with Aegon and Ser Criston Cole. They found the door barricaded and called for more guards to help remove the obstacle, and when it was done, they saw the most horrifying scene. Dead bodies of their children, weeping wives and their mother tired up and gagged. When Queen Dowager explained them what took place, they went inot the state of madness, Aegon started yelling how could the guards let it happen, that he wanted the men found and brought to him, he was inconsolable. Aemond on the other hand stood frozen, he knew it happened because of him,. His nephew and his daughter, his beloved Alysanne, were ripped away from this world because of his own stupidity. He caused that and he couldn’t even look into your eyes, nor Helaena’s. He was overcome with grief and loathing for his actions, but he knew he had to be strong for you, even though he wanted to break down into tears himself. “My love…” he tried to get your attention, but you were focused on your daughter’s face. You dress soaked in her blood, as you stroked her hair singing her favourite lullaby. There was no way for you to let go of her, your state was truly horrible. After sitting there for hours, Silent Sisters came to collect the body, but you didn’t want to part with her, with your sweet Alysanne. Aemond came up to you. “Darling…she’s gone. You have to give her to them. They need to prepare her for the funeral.” you were reluctant, but Aemond finally managed to convince you to let go of her body.
For weeks after that you were closed off, not going out of your chambers, dismissing everything that happened around you. You couldn’t bear the grief and the emptiness this brought you. Even at the funeral you blocked it all out, when the children’s bodies were shown to the people of King’s Landing declaring it to be work of “Rhaenyra the Cruel”. All you wanted was your daughter, but you couldn’t have her, as she was so cruelly taken from you. At the battle at Rook’s Rest Aegon got badly injured, it was a miracle he even pulled through, and your husband was crowned Prince Regent to rule in his stead untill the king recovers. He gathered the army and with the new Hand of the King, Ser Criston, he marched on Harrenhall. Aemond feared leaving you alone and decided it would be best to bring you along. During your stay there, your husband ordered the extermination of house Strong. No one was spared, but a witch named Alys Rivers, who Aemond taksed with your recovery. You and the bastard woman became fastly friends, and she helped you find the courage to join your husband on the battlefield. You wanted revenge and you were out for blood. Soon enough along with Aemond you were terrorizing the Riverlands and became a symbol of death, as you burned every keep, and every lord known to be loyal to the blacks. Vhagar and Canniball were a formidable duo that spread fear all around the realm.
Eventually, when you were away from Harrenhall, your husband received a letter from your father Daemon, that he’s waiting for him and wishes to battle. Without telling you, he made way towards the God’s Eye and without fear fought against your father. After you found the letter, you jumped atop the Canniball and flew towards the battlefield, only to arrive to late, as you witnessed Daemon jumping off Caraxes’ back and plunging Dark Sister into your Aemond’s good eye. You screamed seeing this and urged your dragon to fly faster. Aemond and Vhagar fell into the waters and sank into the lake, as you took on Daemon and Caraxes to avenge your family. The battle was tough, but you emerged victorious, thanks to stabbing your father straight through his neck. As you landed on the shore, you weeped. For your daughter, your husband, your mother who were all killed by Daemon Targaryen, as well as Helaena who committed suicide by throwing herself from the tower, landing on spikes. You were alone, you lost everything. You and Alys went into hiding, up until hearing the news of the death of Rhaenyra. Aegon fed her to his dragon Sunfyre, while her young son watched. Soon enough the king was poisoned by his own men, Alicent was confined to her chambers and was said to go insane. It was too much for you. All you wanted was to be back with your family, that’s why one day, when Alys wasn’t there, you decided to drink poison. Just before going to bed, you took a sip, and faded away into dreamland, where you saw your husband and your daughter eagerly waiting for you. You knew that you could spend eternity together.
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A/N: Alright guys. The second part is here. Thank you for all the support you shown me on my first post. Soon I'll be posting more stuff on this page so stay tuned ♡.
@heavenly1927 @marihoneywk @nyenye
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kckt88 · 6 months
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House of the Dragon Master List.
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Aemond Targaryen x O.C -
Series -
Dynasty
Drowning Inside You
Take My Breath Away
Breath of Doubt
The Picture of Aemond Targaryen I
The Picture of Aemond Targaryen II
The Lost Dragon
The Lost Dragon 2
Closer I
Closer II
Here With Me I
Here With Me II
One Shots -
Love Me Harder
Nepenthe
Cruel Intentions
Sytilībagon
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Aemond Targaryen x Y/N -
Don't Mess With My Mind
Moth to a Flame
Moth to a Flame Part 2
Kickstart My Heart I
Kickstart My Heart II
Let It Be Me I
Let It Be Me II
You Really Got Me
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Alternate Universe -
Dynasty
Three Hearts, One Breath (Take My Breath Away)
Three Breaths, One Heart (Take My Breath Away)
Breath of Love (Take My Breath Away)
Don't Mess With My Mind Alternate Ending
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NSFW Alphabets -
Dynasty NSFW Alphabet ft. Aemond.
Take My Breath Away What If! NSFW Alphabet ft. Aemond & Aegon with Vaeryna.
The Lost Dragon NSFW Alphabet.
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fanficapologist · 5 months
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Of Dragons and Maelstroms: Contents Page
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Part One (Prologue- Chapter Fifty-One)
Part Two (Chapter Fifty-Two-)
Aemond POV (Chapter One-)
Extras: Moodboards, Lore and Dragon Eggs
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Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines
Summary: Following the crowing of King Aegon, second of his name, Lady Maera Wylde, eldest daughter of Master of Laws, is called to return to the capital to assist her old friend, Helaena, in becoming accustomed to her new role as Queen. As well as navigating the complexities of court and discrediting the accusations previously made about her, Maera must also face Prince Aemond, having not seen him in three long years. Once allies, their relationship is no longer what it was when they were children, and they must find a way to live together for the sake of the Crown.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Writer
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two-white-butterflies · 2 months
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As Lovers Often Do - c.6
Description: Alyssa Strong was born to be Aemond's wife. As the dance occurs, certain consequences are levied upon her.
"An eye for an eye. A son for a son."
series masterlist | part five
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"For they could not love you But still your love was true And when no hope was left in sight." - Don McLean, Vincent.
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(A YEAR BEFORE SER HARWIN STRONG'S DEATH)
When Alyssa was young, she could faintly remember playing with horses and dolls. Every night before she'd sleep, her lady-mother would enter her chambers and whisper love stories about knights and princesses. Alyssa believed that the knight was her father, and the princess her mother. In her eyes, her parents shared a meticulous bond - filled with respect and love.
"You missed your lessons," her father leaned on the door-frame. With wide shoulders and brown curls, Harwin Strong was everything dangerous. "I do not like my septa," Alyssa responded continuing to sew. "Just because you feel tired to do something, does not give you license to quit." Harwin responded in a deep tone.
He took another step forward, eyes softening at the presence of his only daughter. Her father has done bad things ... vile things that keep him awake at night, but Alyssa was different. Daegon was his heir, but Alyssa was only his - Alyssa was kind. Nothing like him.
"Septa Brown slanders House Targaryen - says that we're wanton and filled with lust." she gritted her teeth, oblivious to the rumors about her father and aunt. "She is wrong, is she not?" she tilted her head to look at her father's direction. At this point, Harwin was standing beside her sitting position.
He took a deep breath.
He loved Saera then, but not now.
"Even if she is, the Targaryens are above law. Why else would the gods give you right to claim dragons?" Harwin responded, placing a hand to his daughter's head, ruffling her braided hair. A small grunt escaped Alyssa's mouth. "Septa Brown was chosen by the King, tis' best to listen to her other teachings." Harwin added.
Alyssa looks at the warm fireplace.
"Septa Brown also says that Princess Rhaenyra's sons are bastards, that they were sired by you." her teeth burrowed into her lower lip.
Harwin's demeanor evidently changes.
"I will speak to the King," he whispered - and her eyebrows merged into each other.
When it came to slander about her mother's house - Harwin was incompetent seemingly tolerating the abuse. But when it came to Princess Rhaenyra? He seems to care more.
"Speak to the King, about?" Saera's voice echoed throughout the solars. "That Septa Brown has been spreading rumors about your nephew's paternity." Harwin reported and a sigh escapes her mother's mouth. "- she even told Alyssa about it. She's bold, and if we do not put a stop to it - she'll continue spreading rumors ... and what will happen then?" Harwin proceeded.
"She needs to stop, that I agree upon. But do not tell my father, instead - let me speak to Rhaenyra." Saera barred, not giving her husband another reason to speak to her sister.
"I apologize if I created a fight," Alyssa pricked her finger with a needle, she hides it by wiping it on the hems of the fabric. "All is well - you did not create a fight. You merely informed us of something that we ought to know about." Saera smiled, quickly sitting beside Alyssa.
She presses a soft kiss to Alyssa's forehead.
She turns her head towards Harwin, offering her hand. He takes it reluctantly, sitting beside his wife - giving his family a small embrace.
"One day, when I get married - I wish to have love as pure as yours." Alyssa professed, her mother held back a chuckle.
"In due time, you will have something much better." Saera pulled her daughter closer, whispering words in high Valyrian that none of them could understand.
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"All is said?" Aemond stirred the tea, placing it in front of Alyssa. "Kepa agrees upon our marriage, he won't tell muña until we're ready." Alyssa informs, taking a slight sip.
He casts her a look - one of confusion and pain. King Viserys was willing to be his granddaughter's keeper, but not his other children's. He looks away, it was no use fighting against something that benefited him too. "- and when exactly will we become ready?" Alyssa adds with a raised eyebrow.
"When you're finished with your tour, and when my mentorship with Ser Criston ends.." Aemond places a hand on her shoulder. Inhaling her scent of lavender and pine. He couldn't help but thank the gods for giving her, in a world filled with betrayal and temptation - she was there, shining through the darkness.
He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Happiness was a mere arm's reach. "I can't believe that we are given the chance to be with each other," Alyssa licks her lips, feeling her heart pulse rapidly from inside her ribcage. Aemond, her uncle, her joy.
"- and when I am with you, all my worries disappear." she professed.
He presses their forehead together, feeling their hearts beat in unison. This is it ... her once in a lifetime. She's found a man who'd love her in ways that she deserves. She could die now. It wouldn't matter anyways, because she's already felt heaven.
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Alyssa knelt on the pew, feeling the Mother's statue staring at her. Uncle Daemon built it shortly after her birth, an ode to the mother for keeping Saera safe. She looks to the side, feeling the firm stare of the Father - her family did not believe in these gods, but she did. Alyssa loved the Seven Gods.
She closes her eyes, the prayer exited her mouth like an exalted breath. First, she thanked them for giving her a blessed life. She apologized for all of her sins. Her mind then trailed off to her father. She sees him staring at her with his brown curls and domineering stature. Ser Harwin Strong, the Broken.
"Father?" she raises her voice in confusion, rising from her kneeling position, so that she'd be on his level. "Alyssa," he responded. A knowing twinkle in his eyes. "You cannot be real, this is not real?" she inquired, attempting to touch him but he moves a step back.
"You have grown so much, since we last met." he stared at her, from head to toe. It's been five whole years since they last saw each other. She could feel the longing radiate through her bones. All her life, she's always felt like something was missing - her cousins had their parents, but she missed her father.
She missed his voice, and the way that he'd guide her with tenderness. Alyssa was his joy, and Daegon was his pride. Alyssa...yes, Harwin's joy - she needed to count all the victories that she was granted. "- and you haven't changed a day." she whispered.
She feels the tears trail down her cheekbones. They came from the same vine, yet their features were apart as day and night. Mirrors of each other, staring at each other. "I wish I was still there." he admitted, sadness spilling from his tone. "I wasn't a good man, Alyssa. I hurt your mother, I hurt your brother ... I hurt you." he confesses, his voice raising and cracking.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I did something, the truth will come out in due time. I-I came here to warn you. You must fight against your fate. Do not be as reckless - always find strength in yourself. It will get better, I promise." he takes a step forward.
She opens her eyes, and suddenly her father was gone again. "Lady Alyssa?" Helaena shakes her awake. "W-what happened?" Alyssa holds her head, attempting to stabilize her vision. Princess Helaena freezes, as if she's just seen a ghost. "Look." she points at the mother's statue, and to both of their shock - a stray crow was standing atop the statue's head.
The stranger was here, and the stranger will come again.
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taglist: @watercolorskyy @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @issybee06 @delaynew @thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmoss @immyowndefender @marvelescvpe @luanasrta @tesha-i-guess @valeridarkness @batmans-love @ayamenimthiriel @apollonshootafar @sweethoneyblossom1 @mxtokko @cherrysoulth @yentroucnagol @bellstwd
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demigoddessqueens · 1 year
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I need him making faces like this S2, like I need air
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fadingdreamland · 5 months
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Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!wife!reader x Alys Rivers
Warnings : open relationship, SMUT, threesome (FMF/FFM), spit kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, bathtub sex, not proofread
English is not my first language. Also this is my first time writing smut. Sorry if it's kinda cringe.
2091 words
You entered Harrenhal on foot, surrounded by guards. You had been separated from your husband for months. He had written to you about his lover, Alys Rivers, and you grew curious about her. Not jealous. You and Aemond had had lovers before and even at times shared them. 
The agreement was made when he took you from Storm’s End, right before you wedding. He though that yours would be a loveless marriage. He was wrong. Love grew between you two but it did not stop you from seeking pleasure in others, too. You were almost as promiscuous as Aegon but you hid your depravities well.
The letters your husband had sent you described the encounters he had had with his new lover. Those letters got you extremely turned on. You tried to seek relief by yourself, then with lovers of your own but it was never enough. So you left for Harrenhal without even warning of your arrival.
That must be the reason there was no one to receive you. Heads turned toward you in the courtyard. As if they knew who you were but were not sure. It did not take you long to find your husband.
“Y/N,” Aemond said as you walked into the room. He was with his men around a table, likely planning their next attack against the Blacks. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you that disappointed to see me, husband?”
“Leave us.” Aemond orders to the men and the room clears. As soon as the door is closed Aemond is on you. His lips caressing yours, his tongue in your mouth as he holds you against him and your hands cup his face.
“You could not expect me to stay in King’s Landing after the letters you sent me”
His lips raise in a smirk. “So you did not come al the way from King’s Landing to see me.”
“Your letters got me so wet. Even my lovers could not satisfy me.“
His smile turns even more mischievous as if it were possible. “I have duties, wife. I cannot simply drop them to fuck you.“
“I can wait. In your chambers. With Alys.” You said, slowly caressing his hardening cock through the fabric of his breeches. As he leans in to kiss you again you step away, your hand leaving his cock. “The travel has been long, husband. I would like a bath. And food.”
He nods and less than an hour later you have a warm bath prepared for you in Aemond’s chambers. You take off you cloak and the maid helps you out of your gown. You enter the bath, warm water relaxing you muscles. You sigh in relief.
A knock on the door startles you out of your relaxing time. A woman with black hair enters with a tray overflowing with food and leaves it on the table in front of the bed, a few feet away.
She curtesies to you.“Princess, I am Alys Rivers. Prince Aemond’s maid.”
“Of course, you are.” You turn toward the maid. “Leave. Lady Rivers will help me bath”
The maid nods, curtsies and leaves.
“Please, princess, call me Alys. I am no lady.“
“Then you shall call me by name, too.”
Alys grabs a cloth and kneels beside the bathtub. She rubs your back, and your shoulders, your chest and goes down the valley of your breasts.
“The Prince talked a lot about you. You are as beautiful as he described.” Alys praises in what could be considered a whisper.
“I have heard about you, too, Alys. In Aemond’s letters.”
“Am I as you imagined, Y/N?” The whisper of your name on her lips makes you clench your thighs together.
“I do not know yet. Undress and I will know.”
Alys stares at you. You cannot tell if she is surprised but you can clearly see lust in her eyes.
“Undress, Alys.” You repeat. “I am not asking, I am ordering.”
She stands up and starts taking off her dress, unties her corset then lets the fabric drop on the ground. She is bare to you. The perfect swell of her breasts, her pale skin and her cunt.
“You, too, are as Aemond described.” You finally say after staring at her for a moment that seemed too short to you. 
“What else do you know about me ?” Alys asks.
“People say that you are a witch. They say you have bewitched my husband into fucking you.”
“What do you say?”
“You are a witch, Alys Rivers. But I don’t think you used whatever power you have on my husband.” Your eyes roam her naked body “With breasts like that, a body like yours… There’s no need to use magic to fuck whoever you want”
Alys simply smiles at you. It is not a warm smile or a nice one, it is a rather… lustful smile.
“Join me,” you gesture toward the other end of the bathtub.
Alys does not hesitate or wait and enters the bathtub, sitting opposite you. Her legs brush yours. One of your hands grips her foot and slowly travels up her leg your body following once you reach her knee until you are straddling her lap.
Her face so close to yours that you feel every one of her breaths on your face. Her breasts and yours touching, rubbing against each other. Her hands go to your waist and push you down on her even more. Your cunt clenches around nothing.
You lean in, your forehead against hers, your nose rubs against her cheek. You put one hand on the side of her face and kiss her. Her lips are soft, you press your tongue against her lower lip and her tongue infiltrates your mouth. 
One of her hands grabs you hair and tugs at it, your head goes slightly backward and your mouth opens even more. Alys licks your lips and presses against your tongue, she moves to kiss your neck then your chest and finally she gets to your breasts. Her tongue dances all over them driving a sigh of pleasure out of you.
You cannot resist any longer and your hands cup her breasts massaging them, you feel her moans muffled by your breast in her mouth. Your hand moves from her tit to her throat, you wrap your head around it and tug her away from your chest. You lock eyes with her.
“Fuck, Alys. You’re even better than what Aemond told me.”
Alys tucks her lower lip between her teeth. You grab her by her cheeks with one hand, the other still playing with her tit.
“Open your mouth.” She does as you say, her mouth falls open.
You lick the insides of her mouth as she had done to you before and then tou spit in her mouth.
“Swallow.” You whisper. Again, she does as you say. “Tell me, Alys, what did Aemond say you about me?”
“He said that your title may be ‘princess’ but you really are a whore.” You smirk. “He also said that your cunt is divine.”
“I guess I am a whore. But I do not know if my cunt is truly divine. Will you tell me?” You ask her as you lead her hand between your legs.
“Yes. Tell her.” A voice from the door says.You and Alys look toward the voice. Aemond. Heis standing, his back against the closed door.“She never believes me when I do.”
“How long have tou been standing there?” Alys asks.
“Since my wife’s tit was in you mouth.”
You look down his body and notice the tightness in his breeches. You smile, biting you lip.
“Come, husband. We will relieve the pressure in your breeches” You say.
Aemond crosses the room until he is standing beside the bathtub. Alys reaches for his breeches, unties them and lets them fall to the floor. Aemond’s cock springs free. As Alys goes to wrap her mouth around it you pull her face to you and kiss her just as intensely as you had done before. Aemond groans in frustration as Alys kisses you back. 
You pull away out of breath and without breaking eye contact with Alys you bring you husband’s cock to you mouth. You lick the tip and prompt Alys to do the same. You both start kissing and liking Aemond’s cock until you pull it inside her mouth, she starts sucking as you stand up to kiss Aemond. Your husband enters your mouth with his tongue as one of his hands cups your breast and the other is on the back of Alys’ head while he fucks her mouth.
Suddenly you feel something moving over your cunt, you look down and see Alys’ hand cupping it. As you return to kiss Aemond you guide Alys’ fingers to your clit.
She starts rubbing there, you moan into your husband’s mouth. You reach for his eyepatch and pull at it to take it off. You pull away from him to look at his face. Fuck, you love to see him without his eyepatch. 
You feel Alys’ mouth on your clit and moan as you look down and see her hand around Aemond’s cock and her face buried in your cunt. You reach for your husband’s manhood as you kiss him again. You play with his balls, then wrap your hand around his cock and stroke him. This makes Alys focus solely on you as she sucks on your pearl she brings her fingers to your entrance. You put a foot on the edge on the bathtub to give her better access.
She inserts a finger, then another and she pumps in and out. In and out. Your mouth falls open and Aemond uses this opportunity to spit in your mouth, hot liquid invading your mouth. You swallow as you know he likes it.
He grabs Alys by her hair and yanks her up, forcing her to stand up. You whimper at the loss of contact. Aemond spits in Alys’ mouth, then in yours and guides you two to each other. You kiss Alys, this time it is your tongue in her mouth, you taste a mixture of Aemond and you in her mouth and by the gods you’ve never been so turned on.
“I want to taste her cunt,” I tell Aemond as I pull away from Alys.
“Then perhaps it is time to move to the bed,” he answers.
I nod and grab Alys’ hand and lead her out of the bathtub, you push her on the bed. You kneel on the bed as she crawls backwards, farther into the cushions. You feel Aemond behind you, his chest against your back. He got rid of all his clothes. Perfect. He puts his hand to the back of your neck and with one swift movement he brings your face down to Alys’ cunt.
“Fuck her with your mouth,” he orders and you comply.
You lick at her pearl drawing breathless sighs from her. Licking is soon not enough for you and you wrap your mouth around her clit and part of her mouth. You suck, lick, bring your fingers to her entrance. Her hand wraps around your hair, begging for more. Two fingers inside her and Aemond pushes inside you from behind without warning. Tou scream out in pleasure into Alys’ cunt. Aemond’s hard thrusts guide the rhythm go your fingers and tongue on Alys’ cunt. The moans ans groans and skin-slapping sound invade the chamber.
Your free hand goes up Alys’ body until it reaches her tits, you lassie them as you keep your mouth sucking and licking her clit and your fingers go in and out of her.
Aemond slaps your ass making you moan, his thrusts become faster, harder, his hand reechoes around you tu rub your pearl the way he knows drives you crazy and he comes inside you triggering your own release. Alys comes in your mouth as Aemond rides out your orgasm. You lick every drop of Alys’ release. She tastes as good as Almond told you.
Your husband lies down beside Alys as you lie down on the other side of your new lover. After recovering your breath in a few minutes, Alys’ hand reaches to your belly, where your womb is.
“She will carry your child soon, Aemond.” She says. It is not a guess or a hopeful comment, she seems certain of it. She is certain of it.
“So will you,” he answers with a smirk as his cock hardens again.
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joeyscherryjubilee · 1 year
Text
Like Calls to Like (III)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC
Author's Note: I fully believe Aemond is a consent!king, he's gonna make sure his lady is comfortable and is about communication.
Warnings: smut, first time for Laenyra, Crispin Cole, Aemond coping a feel beneath the table and a lot of consent.
Word count: 4,825
Summary: Laenyra and Aemond have finally confessed their feelings for one another. But they must put their desires temporarily aside in order to sit through dinner. Aemond, however, does not want to wait to lay claim to his princess.
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“You seem happy, my son.” Alicent held Aemond’s hands. She was clearly glad of her son’s mood, especially as he was prone to states of lonesome forlornness. Aemond and Laenyra had arrived for dinner with secretive smiles and looks of longing clear on their faces. “Truly happy.” 
She noted how her son’s eye flickered across the room. 
“I am, mother.” He said the words with an almost shy smile, his mind wandering momentarily and Alicent’s heart clenched for a love she would never have. 
“Good.” She forced a smile and squeezed his hand. 
Alicent left him in order to greet a weak Viserys. Aemond, of course, immediately went to Laenyra’s side, standing too close to be proper and his hands itching towards her. Whatever note his princess received at breakfast, its contents had clearly shifted their relationship. 
“A fine couple.” Viserys rasped, his weight sagging over his embellished cane. His gaze was set on Aemond and Laenyra with an unappealing smile though his joy was warming to see.
Alicent could not argue that fact no matter how much she wished to deny it. 
“Let us eat.” She said instead, knowing any approval shown in front of her husband would be followed by talk of a betrothal. 
The king sat first and let out a sigh that told his relief at finally taking the weight off his aching body. The group followed suit and Laenyra secured her usual spot between Aemond and Helaena, insisting that her aunt give a full debrief of the new insect that had been recently acquired. 
Aemond shifted in his chair, the food in front of him untouched and his hands tapping upon the table. He was trying with all his might, and failing miserably, to not keep glancing over at Laenyra. She kept catching him staring, giving him only a knowing smile in response before returning her attention to Helaena. 
His princess seemed to be the height of decorum, as though they had not been pawing at each other just moments before entering for dinner. Laenyra had tugged him into a hidden passage, bringing him to her desperately and they were late arriving because of it. 
Laenyra grinned as she caught him looking again, she could feel his gaze and the heat it held. 
“The wings are fragile but powerful.” Helaena explained eagerly, using her hands to provide a diagram of the new bug she had found. Aegon huffed in boredom from across the table, but otherwise said nothing. “It appears to be praying when it is still.” 
Laenyra did not find the topic intensely interesting but her aunt’s excitement kept her attention and she smiled at how animated Helaena was. 
There was a calmness in the room that was a welcome change from the usual despair that permeated the family meals. Viserys was in reasonable health and Queen Alicent in a somewhat good mood. Laenyra’s heart was soaring as she dared to think of the man next to her and what they have revealed to each other that day. 
The calmness evaporated though, when Laenyra felt the brush of a touch on her leg.
“Are you alright?” Helaena asked as she jolted in her chair, dropping her fork with a clatter. 
Laenyra nodded earnestly and smiled bashfully at the table. 
“Apologies.” She said quietly at the look of concern on her grandfather’s face and the sudden interest in the rest of the table’s. “I simply startled myself when I dropped my fork.” 
Everyone seemed to believe her and return to their own conversations or thoughts. 
Helaena resumed her explanations though Laenyra froze as a touch feathered across her leg once again. 
She glanced to see Aemond looking extremely pleased with himself, one hand on his goblet and the other beneath the table, stroking a deft pattern on her thigh. 
“Are you quite sure you are well, Princess?” Aemond asked quietly with such a touching tone of concern that she glared at him. 
“Yes.” Laenyra whispered curtly. 
His responding grin was lecherous as she returned her attention to Helaena, attempting to ignore how his fingers trailed so dangerously across her leg. A previously undiscovered desire flooded through her and the room suddenly became hot. She pressed her legs together, seeking an unknown source of pleasure. 
Laenyra attempted to remove his hand but could not do so without risk of discovery, he was unfairly stronger than her. Aemond made no further move as she squirmed at his touch, resting his hand sentry upon her thigh.
The meal passed by slowly, his hand a constant upon her body and Laenyra found time agonising until finally the servants cleared away the plates and she could leave without fear of scrutiny.
“I am tired, I shall retire.” She stood and breathed a sigh of relief as Aemond’s hand fell away, she desired his touch more than anything, but not at a dinner and not in full view of their family.
Her awkwardness was covered by Helaena announcing that she was also tired and wished to retire. It was unknown if her aunt did wish to rest or was simply covering for Laenyra and Aemond with her unlimited knowledge, but either way, Laenyra was most grateful.
Viserys nodded his consent at their departure from the table.
“Ser Arryk, would you please escort Princess Helaena to her rooms, and Ser Erryk, if you would escort Prince Aegon.” Queen Alicent commanded the twins by the door. Aegon looked extremely discontent at the idea of being escorted to bed like a child, but made no argument against it. 
“Aemond can escort Laenyra.” Viserys said with a joyful smile. “I have no doubt he will see her safely to her rooms.”
“Of course, my love.” Queen Alicent said tersely, though sent a nod to Ser Criston which did not go unnoticed by Aemond. 
Laenyra bid everyone a goodnight and led the way out into the darkened hallway.
They made it round the first few corners in a formal fashion before Laenyra glanced around and grabbed his hand.
Aemond couldn’t contain his grin as she tugged him forcefully through the halls, darting left and right and right again. She only stilled once they were far away from the dining hall and hidden within an alcove.
“I can’t believe you.” Laenyra whispered hotly, but there was no anger in her voice, only a barely contained desire. 
“I am to blame for being tempted by such a siren?” Aemond asked with a lofty tone and clasped his hands behind his back with the poise of a prince.
Laenyra scoffed in order to conceal her amusement. 
“You are silly.” She muttered and Aemond laughed loudly in the empty hallway. 
She was quick to silence him, slapping her hand over his mouth and glanced around. No footsteps came to enquire about the noise but Laenyra waited a long moment, her heart thrumming, before she lifted her hand. 
Aemond’s heart soared and he ducked his head in order to kiss her. Laenyra’s breath stuttered at the force of it, her hands gripping his arms to keep herself from drowning in the kiss. 
“I’ll meet you in your room.” She said hurriedly, her gaze slightly hazed as she managed to pull herself away. Laenyra flushed scarlet at her prince’s responding smile, it told a thousand promises and desires that sung between them.
She darted away before he could say anything and Aemond was rather glad for it. Anything he wished to say would be highly inappropriate. 
Aemond departed in the opposite direction, taking the long way through the castle in order to prevent any further gossip about his comings and goings. In some ways he was lucky that Aegon was such a disappointment, the focus on his brother’s activities meant that Aemond himself was not watched with anywhere near as much scrutiny. 
He huffed in quiet annoyance though, as he rounded a corner to come face-to-face with Ser Criston Cole. Aemond usually enjoyed the knight’s presence, even if Laenyra despised him, but his appearance was an extreme inconvenience.
“Where is Princess Laenyra?” Ser Criston asked but there was no true concern in his voice. 
“She wished to speak to Helaena about something and asked to walk alone.” The lie rolled easily off his tongue, Laenyra often visited her aunt before bed, the two could be found talking deep into the night. 
Aemond made to step around the knight, but his path was blocked.
“Do you have a moment, my prince?” He posed his words as a request, though Aemond knew a refusal would result in further inconvenience. 
“Of course, Ser Criston.” Aemond’s tone was monotonous, attempting to contain the frustration at being kept from his princess. 
“Your mother is concerned for you.” The words were poised like they were coming from a place of care. But Aemond knew anything said by Ser Criston were truly the thoughts of his mother, who no doubt wished to know more of her second son’s recent activities. 
“How so?” Aemond asked, feigning ignorance. 
“She worries about how you have been spending your time, you departed upon Vhagar this morning with no warning, accompanied by Laeny-”
“Princess Laenyra.” Aemond interrupted sharply and his look was stern. 
“Apologies, Prince Aemond.” The knight grimaced at the prince’s tone but made no comment. “You were accompanied by Princess Laenyra and I believe your mother is worried as to what rumours may arise from the two of you spending so much time together, unsupervised.” 
He allowed the implications of his words to hang between them. 
“I appreciate your concern for mine and Princess Laenyra’s safety and reputation, but I am unsure as to why this is being brought up now. Being alone with the princess is not a new occurrence and we often fly upon Vhagar together.” Aemond would not give him an inch, his tone deadpan and the knight squirmed. 
“The reason your mother is concerned, I believe, is because of the danger of impropriety.”
“Impropriety?” Aemond drawled, raising an eyebrow and maintained a straight face, hiding his inner amusement at how far past ‘impropriety’ he and Laenyra had ventured. “I do not understand what you are attempting to imply, Ser Criston. Though I suggest that when you report to my mother, you ensure she is aware that there is no risk of wrongdoing and if she has any further concerns, she can ask me herself.” 
Ser Criston was smart enough to recognise a dismissal and nodded curtly, undoubtedly knowing how displeased Queen Alicent would be at his lack of new information.
The prince left the knight, venturing once again through the halls, seeking out his one true desire.
Aemond breathed a sigh of relief when he finally came within view of his rooms, his steps quickening even more and he practically leapt through the entryway. He barred the door securely and confirmed its sturdiness twice. There would be no risk of disturbance. 
His princess was standing before the fireplace, her gaze upon the flames.
Laenyra looked over her shoulder at him, the glow of the fire illuminating her like a true dragon. 
I would follow her through the seven hells if she asked it of me. 
Aemond clenched his fists, attempting to maintain his dignity and a distance between them. 
She smiled gently at his stationary form, closing the gap herself and sliding her hands into his. Laenyra raised herself and kissed him, not at all embarrassed that she desired him, and the idea warmed Aemond’s heart.
“Hello.” She whispered and reached to stroke his jawline with a fire in her eyes. 
“Hello.” Aemond murmured, his hands resolutely remaining by his sides. 
“I was half-worried you wouldn’t come.” Laenyra said with a small smile and he knew he was forgiven for his lateness. 
“I will always come when you call.” He breathed softly.
Laenyra glanced down at his hands, not on her body, and pulled him closer by the lapels of his jacket. Capturing his lips as hers, Laenyra dared to tease him with her tongue, a quick movement that was only a promise of things to come. 
Aemond felt himself harden as she continued to take the lead for both of them, but as her hand weaved into his hair, tugging at him, Aemond's resolve broke. His hands moved quickly as he growled against her, tugging her body against his, his hardness flush against her belly. 
Laenyra moaned softly and allowed him to dominate her, his mouth bruising against her own with the force, his teeth nipping at her, his longing as fierce and savage as a dragon. 
“You are certain this is what you desire?” He growled after a long moment, attempting to restrain himself, for her sake. 
“You keep asking, I will not change my mind.” Laenyra insisted, confused at to why he was so cautious of their joining. 
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He explained though it did nothing to diminish Laenyra’s confusion. Aemond smiled to himself and stroked her cheek, his thumb gliding over her swollen lips. 
“You won’t.” She insisted, reaching for him, attempting to pull him closer. 
“Not like that, my love.” Aemond murmured and tried to think on the best way to explain it to her. He pressed another kiss to her cheek before moving to brush his kips against her throat. Laenyra let out a small moan, a sound he wished to bind to his soul, as he dared to let his teeth nip at her pulse. “I need to make sure that it won’t hurt when we come together.” 
He attempted to save her ears from crudeness, unsure as to how she would react. 
“Oh.” Laenyra breathed, understanding dawning and Aemond glanced up to see her flushed but eager. 
“Yes.” He said with a small smile. “Is that alright?” 
Laenyra nodded, suddenly shy as she stood before him, all of it so real and her desire stirring so agonisingly. 
“Yes, I trust you, Aemond.” She said and joined her lips to his again, more desperate with the heat building within her. 
Laenyra sought to press herself closer to him and he could no longer deny himself of his most precious desire. 
His hands weren’t gentle as he finally laid claim to her body, enveloping one in her hair and the other around her waist. Laenyra shivered as Aemond’s mouth enveloped her own, his kiss rough and desperate. 
Laenyra gripped his arms, attempting to tether herself lest she float away on her desire. 
“My Laenyra.” Aemond growled softly. She sighed prettily against his lips, his words fuelling the fire between them. His fingers were hurried with the tiresome strings of her dress. With a growl of frustration and yet another futile attempt to undo her dress, Aemond unsheathed his dagger and with startling precision he cut through the ribbons and frills.
“How am I supposed to explain that?” Laenyra laughed in shock at such a barbaric move though it thrilled her.
Aemond grinned roguishly, tearing the remaining seam and pulling it off her. 
“Just say you were attacked by a dragon.” He offered and Laenyra snorted, kicking the now ruined dress under the bed. 
“Attacked is certainly the right term.” She muttered and laughed as Aemond yanked her towards him once again. 
“‘Attack,’ is it, dear niece?” He drawled, perusing her figure and taking note of how her perfect she looked beneath the satin slip, how desperate he was to rid her of it. Her nipples hardened as he dared trail his fingers along her sides, treading dangerously across her stomach. “You seem rather eager considering this brutal attack.” 
Laenyra grinned at his words, her cheeks flushing and chest heaving as determination built inside her. The princess was not a patient person, she was the blood of the dragon and they were not known for patience.
Taking a deep breath Laenyra tugged at her slip, lifting it over her head. The thin dress pooled deliciously around her feet, Laenyra’s head held high as she bared herself to him. Aemond stilled and he felt a dragon rear its head and roar within him.
“Is something wrong?” Laenyra asked, a mild panic flashing through her eyes and he could see her starting to worry. 
He shook his head earnestly. 
“You are perfect.” He said hoarsely. His hand shook slightly as he raised it, his palm cupping her right breast gently. Laenyra shifted as he ran his thumb over her nipple. It hardened as Aemond stroked it and he dared to do the same to the left. 
“Hmm.” Aemond hummed as Laenyra shivered, but he didn’t believe the cold had anything to do with it. His hands slid upwards, goosebumps following his touch. He slid his hands up her neck into her dark tresses, reviling in the softness of Laenyra. 
With a startling boldness Laenyra tugged at his waistband, pulling him closer and joining them together. 
“My love.” He whispered against her lips, his hands greedy as he gripped her naked body, leading Laenyra backwards to the bed. Aemond picked her up with ease, laying her gently down upon the covers. 
Aemond stood tall, his breath rising heavily as he took Laenyra in, the way she looked so sublime on his bed, her body red with his marks and the apex of her thighs glistening, because of him. With a new found confidence Aemond steadied his nerves and knelt upon the bed. 
Laenyra’s eyes were on Aemond as he moved to hover over her. She squirmed though as he leant to lay soft kisses up her stomach and Laenyra held her breath as he dared to press a kiss on both breasts. 
“I love you.” He whispered into her collarbone, his tongue sucking and nipping at her skin, Aemond relished in the marks that were quick to form. 
Laenyra whimpered her response as Aemond’s fingers trailed downwards and sat dangerously above her wet heat. 
“You are alright?” Aemond breathed quietly and she huffed at him. 
“If you do not touch me soon.” She threatened and he chuckled, her huff soon stuttered as he stroked her softly, his thumb applying such a pressure that a moan escaped her. Aemond couldn’t help his smug grin as he coaxed moans and whimpers out of Laenyra with slow, determined motions.
Laenyra relaxed into his touch, her back arching and her hips bucking upwards at Aemond’s skilful touch. He delighted in her body’s reaction to her, dipping his thumb between her folds to brush at her clit, her body jerking deliciously at he stroked her pearl. 
Aemond moved to adjust himself, kneeling before her to utilise both hands to please his princess. 
“Good girl.” Aemond murmured and he explored her body with his hand. Her wetness increased and he inserted a finger, shocked at how loudly Laenyra moaned as he pleased her. His thumb continued to stroke her and she fisted the sheets, a heat building that she did not entirely understand. 
“It’s alright Laenyra.” He purred as she writhed. “Let me please you.” 
Her thighs shook when Aemond changed the angle of his wrist, his movements speeding up and a second finger pressing inside her. He could tell she would soon reach her peak and he was eager to seek out all the ways to bring her pleasure. 
Aemond curled his fingers slightly and Laenyra fell over the edge, her hips bucking upwards into his hand as she came. His fingers slowed and he worked her through her pleasure, her thighs glistening and Aemond grinned at his triumph, leaning down to press a firm kiss to his princess, swallowing the pretty sounds she made as he touched her. 
“That’s it.” He praised when her body started shifting once again. 
Calmness seemed to radiate from him though Aemond was a storm of desire inside, his arousal straining desperately against the confines of his pants and he shifted pitifully, attempting to alleviate some of the pressure and failing. 
Laenyra whined while Aemond struggled internally as he stroked her, his palm providing delicious pressure and friction to her clit. Her eyes fluttered shut once again as her hips starting to rocking against his hand, seeking more pleasure. 
Laenyra’s thighs began tensing once more and Aemond knew she was close again, her second peak coming quicker with her wetness, her eagerness to receive pleasure now she had had a taste. 
A soft moan escaped her lips and Aemond was desperate to hear the sound again, crooking his fingers in just the right way- 
“Oh gods.” She choked at the precision of his movements as they brought her over the edge once again, her whole body shivering against him and he grinned, his lips seeking hers once again. 
“Such perfection.” He whispered and Laenyra fidgeted under him, suddenly bashful as he looked over her flushed body. “Don’t hide from me.” 
Aemond leant down to kiss her with startling softness, with one hand he tugged softly at her hair and with the other he finally freed himself from the tight confines of his breeches. 
“I love you.” They said it at the same time, in such tandem that they smiled at each other, hearts beating as one. 
Aemond settled above her, taking his length in one hand and Laenyra shuddered with pleasure as he teased her folds, letting her know what he was about to do. 
She nodded to him.  
“I am yours, Aemond.” Laenyra murmured with fire in her eyes. 
He thrust gently, slipping inside her with relative ease. 
He worked himself in patiently, using her building wetness to soften his entry. She was greedy and eager to take him but Aemond was determined for her to feel no discomfort. Laenyra whined as he stroked her softly, just enough to work her up more, not enough to provide any real pleasure, she was already overstimulated.
“You must wait.” He purred in her ear, the tightness of her almost too much. He had to go slow for both their sakes and he grabbed at her reaching hands, trapping them above her head with one of his, not allowing her to distract him further. 
“Let me touch you.” Laenyra pleaded, her voice was desperate but she was beyond caring. The feeling of him between her legs was too much, such perfection that she writhed beneath him, willing Aemond to move. 
“Patience.” He said softly, his own resolve weakening as Laenyra whimpered. Aemond would never hurt her, and ensuring she could take him properly was his first priority. 
“Fuck patience.” Laenyra growled, bucking her hips to have him further inside her. 
Aemond let out a low curse at the feel of her body welcoming him, yearning for his touch. 
“This is much more difficult for me than for you, my love.” He murmured, his thumb pressing into her clit, groaning as she fluttered around him. Aemond dared to thrust gently, just slow movements to see if she could take more of him. Laenyra whimpered at the action, her cunt clenching desperately. 
“Aemond.” She moaned as he gave a sharper thrust forward, her body finally taking all of him, the two of them joined together perfectly. 
“It’s as though the gods have made you for me.” He whispered, relishing in the feeling of fitting so well inside her. Aemond’s free hand reached up to slide over her breasts, his thumb brushing over her nipple with a grin at how willing her body was to take all of him. His look predatory as Laenyra moaned wantonly at his touch. 
She gasped as he thrust gently, only drawing out a fraction before sliding back in, her wetness allowing for easy access, just as he had hoped. 
“You’re perfect.” Aemond murmured, one hand still locked about her wrists as he leant down to kiss her. Laenyra whimpered against him, the feel of his chest against her sensitive nipples, the pressure of his body against hers. 
“I need you to move, please.” It was desperate, she was desperate and Aemond couldn’t help the pride at it being his touch to make her feel such a way. His. 
“We’ll go slow to start.” Aemond followed his words with a gentle thrust and Laenyra saw stars, her hands fighting at his. She needed to touch him, to feel all of him as he allowed her to settle into the feel of him making love to her. 
“Oh gods.” She whimpered as he began to speed up, her body egging him to increase his force. It was so much, it was too much but it was perfect. “Fuck.” 
Aemond was too far gone to find her cursing amusing and pulled out entirely, waiting long enough Laenyra’s eyes to open in confusion before slamming himself back in. Her eyes widened and he finally released her hands, allowing her to grip at him. 
Laenyra’s felt fat tears of pleasure cascade down her cheeks as her body finally let go and Aemond continued to thrust with so much force she had to scream into her pillow. 
“You’re taking me so well.” He growled, his speed and force causing the very bed to creak dangerously. Aemond gripped the headboard with one hand to assist his movements, his other hand reaching down to gently stroke her clit, the juxtaposition of his movements only overwhelming her further. “You’re perfect, Laenyra.”
She grabbed his shoulders, clinging to him desperately as he brought them closer to their climax. 
“Look at me.” Aemond ordered softly, his fingers gripped her jaw to face him. Laenyra reached and took his hands in hers, their fingers entwined as she looked upon him, their gaze set upon each other as they took and gave pleasure. 
They soared and fell together, like dragons taking flight and the pleasure was unspeakable between them. Aemond delved his head into the crook of her neck at the intensity, biting into his lip so fiercely he drew blood in order to not scream out his pleasure. 
Laenyra was not so controlled and moaned loudly in his ear, her hands clutching at him, attempting to tether herself to reality. Her thighs shook as she came back to herself, the overstimulation bearable as Aemond settled himself beside her, one arm thrown possessively over her. 
“I love you.” Aemond said breathlessly. He noted with a fierce pleasure the marks upon Laenyra’s body, how flushed she was and how she looked at him like he was the only person in the world. 
“I love you.” She murmured in agreement and reached weakly to stroke his face, tugging at his hair to pull him closer for another kiss. 
Aemond gave her a kiss freely before pulling away, sitting up and hurrying to dress. 
“Where are you going?” Laenyra asked in a tired voice, curious as to his movements. Aemond tugged on a tunic and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek. 
“I will be gone one moment, my love.” He said and grinned at the sight of her exposed and satiated in his bed. She stretched to pull a pillow closer, fatigue settling in.
Laenyra hummed her consent to his movements, her body relaxed completely for perhaps the first time in years. She only closed her eyes for a moment though Aemond had returned by the time she opened them again. 
He was standing at his desk, a small pot set atop the table as he mixed a herbal brew. 
“Aemond?” She yawned aloud and he turned, a cup in one hand and a wash cloth in the other. 
“Moon tea.” He explained quietly, offering the mug to her with a kind smile. “Helaena keeps a store in her rooms.” 
She drank it quickly, not relishing in the bitter taste. Aemond stood before her, his touch soft as he wiped away the mess from her body. 
“I love you.” He whispered after a moment, his eye flickering to her face as he discarded the cloth. Laenyra’s heart clenched at how vulnerable he was, how much of himself he was exposing to her and the trust they had. 
She stood and reached for him, baring her body unashamedly now that Aemond had seen all of her. His gaze was intense, their eyes set on one another and her touch was soft as she traced the exposed parts of his scar. Laenyra vowed to have him remove it for her soon, but that was a discussion that would come later. 
“I love you, Aemond.” Laenyra said with a fierce look, insisting that he knew how fiercely she felt for him. “It is you and I, forever.” 
He warmed at her words and smiled as she pressed her forehead against his and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.
“I would ask you to return to bed.” Laenyra whispered. “If you desire it.” 
Aemond chuckled and nodded, kissing her brow.
“There are many things I desire in this world, and I dare say you in my bed is at the forefront of them all.”
____________________________
Tags: @grungegrrrl @daddysfavoritesexkitten @neenieweenie @m-indkiller
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achaoticeternal · 1 year
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bewitched - ending 1.
check out bewitched pt. 1 here!
ending 2. — ending 3. — ending 4.
summary: after you present Aemond with the ultimatum of your marriage, he must choose between you and Alys.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
He chose you…
The days passed by silently… slowly… There was an eagerness in your bones that craved the touch of your husband. Part of you despised loving him while the other part longed for him once more. No matter how greatly the grief clinged to you, you refused to allow yourself to simply let him in. Aemond had the ultimatum… You allowed him the privilege to choose and so you waited.
Life passed by with the Red Keep continuing business as usual. Though everything seemed plain, a tension hung in the air that caused waves of anxiety to rush through the halls. The staff of the Keep were far more hushed than usual, gossiping with baited breaths when they could.
They took notice of the strange silence between you and the Prince. You only allowed yourself to be seen with Aemond at suppers or when it was greatly expected of you, so not to slack on your duty to the realm. The only other time you allowed yourself to see him was in the quick glances at him when he came to bed. Encounters at night were always silent, moving separately from each other so not to disturb what remained unspoken.
Most of your time was spent either in the gardens or the library, using your solitude as time for further entertainment. Currently, you were perched on a seat of one of the garden patios among bushes and a vineyard with your children accompanying you. You would not allow for the coldness you currently felt toward Aemond to manifest toward them as well, they were innocents. When they asked why their father was no longer frequently joining their mother in her activities, you swayed them away from the questions, wishing not to go into detail with them yet about Aemond’s infidelity.
Your son, Aemon, was pretending to joust with his wooden sword and shield on the greenery. He looked just like Aemond, even going as far as to antagonize his imaginary opponent before striking them. Maerys, your sweet daughter, sat at the steps to the patio reading a book. She was just as studious as her father. And though both children had traits of their father and the fine silver hair of a Targaryen, they had your eyes and your spirit.
It was the shift in the attendants that alerted you to another presence. You lifted your gaze to see Aemond, face stoic and arms held behind his back. With a sigh, you rose from your seat and soothed out the skirt of your dress. You waved at the attendants as to instruct them.
“Please see the children back to their rooms. Their lessons with the septas will resume shortly,” You nodded to the nurse who escorted Aemon and Maerys back into the Keep.
Both Aemond and yourself watched as the silver-haired twins disappeared indoors, leaving you both alone together. Instead of looking to your husband, you gaze rested on one of the shrubs with freshly sprouted rose buds. Words had escaped you and your mind was too foggy to think properly.
Suddenly, calloused fingers began to settle in your hand, attempting to intertwine themselves with your own soft digits. The feeling caused a wave of worry to crash through you as you quickly pulled your hand away. Aemond sighed, but his hand remained where yours was a moment before.
“It rids me with guilt that the smile that once graced your face has been replaced with tears and anger at my doing,” your husband finally broke the silence between you.
“Do you love her?” You responded, paying no mind to his previous statement.
His reply was quick to follow, a slight surprise to you, “No.”
Words were lost on you, so instead you simply nodded your head. Your gaze was still elsewhere, concerned that if you looked him in the eye your walls would crumble.
“I know that I have caused you unspeakable pain, but you will not have to worry about temptations anymore…” Aemond tried to keep a stoic tone, but the wavering of his voice revealed how much he regretted his previous actions.
Though you accepted his kind words, he needed to be explicit about what they meant, “And what of Alys… and the bastard?”
“I expect that they have sailed off the coast of Dorne by now. The witch is seeking asylum abroad in Essos where she shall be no concern of ours,” Aemond explained, “But the fault has been mine, my love. You have been a loyal wife and companion, blessing us with two beautiful children. I allowed the spoils of war to corrupt me and tempt me and I… I apologize, deeply, and this will be something I regret for the rest of my days…”
“But I love you, my sweet wife, I truly do. And if you would allow me, I would do… I would do anything to amend the bonds I’ve broken,” He looked at you, grief shining through his one good eye.
There was a quiet moment between both of you. Then, you silently outstretched your hand, taking his pale hand into your own.
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huramuna · 4 months
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beware the sapphire peak - chapter 2.
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aemond targaryen x wife reader x alys rivers a period piece, set in 1902.
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wordcount: 4.8k
you're a young, american lady who is an aspiring author. you are wooed by a mysterious and charming savant from england. swept off your feet, you're whisked away to his family's ancient estate, Dragonstone Hall. but with all stories, secrets are hiding around every corner, and your suitor is no different. a crimson peak inspired mini series.
@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! i don't do taglists right now, so sorry!
content: smut (specifics below cut), angst, gaslighting, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, alys in her girlboss gatekeep gaslight era, no use of y/n, afab reader, pre-established alysmond, this isn't going where you think it is(it might be), infidelity-ish, polyamory, mentions of infertility, murder, depictions of murder/violence
once upon a december - invadable harmony • reflections - toshifumi hinata
warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v, creampie, inappropriate use of high valyrian
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As you passed through the threshold of the building, you looked upon the tapestries that lined the walls– they seemed to tell a story, a story of dragons, war, betrayal and succession. The woven tapestries were over eight feet tall, hanging from old iron nails that pinned them to the stone bulwark. Beyond those, were the beginnings of many, many portraits of Targaryens long passed. They were all otherworldly looking, your eyes glazing over at their perfectly captured features. 
Aemond’s gentle squeeze to your hand brought you back to reality, following the line of your gaze to the portraits. “Some people have said that Targaryens are closer to Gods than people,” he smirked, chuckling softly. “When we rode dragons and conquered land and sky, perhaps. But not now– we are merely mortals once again.”
“Ah, and here I thought I married an immortal being, what a pity.” you jested, your tongue poking in your cheek. 
“A pity indeed– luckily I snagged myself a Goddess, hm?” he whispered lowly, craning his head to nose at your jawline, planting little kisses upon your soft skin. He was so close to you, his scent all consuming in your nostrils as you drank in the feather light touch of his lips upon you. You were surprised that you’d made it into the building without the both of you making love on the floor like rutting animals, truly. 
The sound of heels clicking pulled you both from your stupor. As you turned around, you looked upon the woman that was in the window, the real one, atleast. She was tall, a few inches shorter than Aemond, but she still towered over you– they both did– her hair was pinned in a neat half-do, the slightly wavy tresses in a gorgeous, deep brown color, like freshly brewed coffee. Her eyes, a lively emerald green, blinked slowly as she looked you up and down, assessing you. She seemed to be more mature than you and Aemond, likely by fifteen or so years. The only indication of her age were the soft gleam of one or two errant gray hairs and the lines of her face, laugh lines, crow’s feet alike, were illuminated under the flickering light in the foyer. She wore a deep green dress, a similar shade to her eyes. “Lord Targaryen, Lady Targaryen,” she greeted, her voice deep and silky– it reminded you of the timbre of a wonderful cello you’d heard in an orchestra in New York City, instantly sending your heart aflutter. 
“My love, this is Alys Rivers. She is the estate’s governess,” Aemond introduced, one eye lingering upon Alys before returning to you. “She’s been with us for many years and is more than happy to help you get acquainted with the ins-and-outs of the Keep.” 
You suddenly remembered your manners, hand extended out to her. “Miss Rivers, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled, your hand enveloped by hers. It was a bit cold, but warmed up quickly within your own. 
“And you, my lady. I’m sure we will become fast friends.” Alys responded coolly, her mouth perking into a similar grin, her thumb lingering over the back of your hand for a bit longer than necessary as she squeezed it lightly before letting go
Certainly you didn’t imagine that? 
“It is good to see you again, Alys. I hope to not be away from the estate for so long again,” Aemond hummed, watching as you and the governess’ hands lingered with one another, then turning back to face you. “Shall we get settled in, my dear?” he asked. You knew exactly what he meant by settling in– and it would be the opposite of what you would be doing.
“It is good to have you back, Lord Targaryen. Let us hope you won’t need to leave again any time soon.” Alys gave a wry smile, regarding you both before curtsying and flittering away. 
Aemond led you up the stairs, up to the third floor, where the master bedroom lay. The hallways narrowed as you traversed the home, with Aemond pointing out a few of the key points of the estate to you on the way. Then, he stopped at a gilded pair of double doors, the handles were beautifully complex dragons carved from a deep brown and red cedar, their eyes fashioned from jewels. It was the height of opulence– edging on gaudiness for your taste, but you married into practical royalty, so you couldn’t complain.
Opening them, it revealed a large room decorated in black and green, with the occasional splash of red and gold. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, cornered by a soft reading nook with two plush chairs. The bed was spacious, twice the size of the bed you had at home, which was a king size– you didn’t even know what to classify this size as. Monarch size? Dragon size? It was huge, that was all you knew, furnished in a soft red velvet sheet set. 
You walked to the bed, fingers glazing over the silken soft sheets. “This is… the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life, my God.” you murmured, beginning to unbutton your outer coat and shed your layers. You wished to feel the plush silk on your bare skin.
“I hope it’s to your liking, love.” Aemond came up behind you, helping you shed your unsightly amount of layers until you were in your silken shift and undergarments. His hand began to wander, bunching up the fabric of your shift and pulling it upward, until he could rest his hand on your bare stomach.
The sensation of his warm hand on your stomach made you flutter slightly, pressing back against him. “Yes, I’d say it’s quite to my liking– though, I suppose we shall put it to the test, won’t we?” you teased, your arm coming up to caress his cheek.
As your hand touched his face, his hand rose up higher and higher, exploring further. His hand found solace atop your corseted brassiere, the tiniest growls of frustration escaping from his lips. His free hand began working double time to undo the series of laces. “You won’t be needing to wear these anymore, my love,” he grumbled, biting softly on your earlobe as he continued his race to undress you. “In fact, I’d like it if you didn’t wear anything at all.”
You giggled, shimmying out of the brassiere, to which he threw aside. “I’m sure that Miss Rivers would find that garish and uncouth, Aemond. I can come to a compromise, though,” you purred, switching around to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling him towards you by the hem of his shirt.
“A compromise,” he repeated, “And what sort of compromise would that be?” Aemond asked, kneeling down in front of you now.
“Perhaps I may not wear any undergarments at all under my clothes,” you whispered, craning your neck downward as you tilted his chin upward. “For easier access.”
The sound that came from Aemond could only be categorized as animalistic and primal, his lips melding with yours in a rising fervor. It was a clash of teeth and tongue, his hand pawing at your now freed breast, thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple– eliciting a surprised gasp from you. You’d never been touched in such a way and the little spark of pain that went through you mingled with your pleasure. You liked it, conveying this to your husband by increasing the fever pitch of your kisses, mouth parted as your tongues danced together in the most lascivious of ways, as if you were trying to eat one another alive. 
“What did I do,” he breathed between your assaults on each other’s mouths. “To deserve such a beautiful wife, hm?” his hand had become permanently rested on your breast, rubbing your stiffened nipple like he was trying to elicit every moan possible from you from just this alone. “A beautiful wife who makes all of the most beautiful little noises?” 
You were rendered speechless, your response coming out only as a whine as he pushed you back on the bed, pulling your underwear down. He made a noise of satisfaction at what he saw, seemingly pleased with how you looked, his hand grazing through your wisps of pubic hair before parting your soaked folds. You stared down at him beneath half-lidded eyes, your body heat emanating from you like a furnace, the heights of your cheeks red with pleasure. 
Aemond was continually spurred on by your state of being, like you were clay within his hands, and he was the sculptor. He nudged your legs open more, his fingers spreading you open. You whimpered as the cold air hit your core, but it was immediately replaced by a warm heat– his breath fanning over you. 
“Please,” was all that could come out of your mouth as you looked at him. 
His pupil was blown wide, the blue usually there eclipsed by black as he dragged his tongue over your folds, testing your taste. Humming in contentment with the taste, he went back in for another, lapping over your wet sex, the cleft of his nose rubbing against your clit. You fought the urge to close your legs out of instinct, feeling a warm sensation barrelling toward you as if you needed to relieve yourself. Your eyes were more open now in a slight panic at the feeling, but Aemond just grinned, keeping up his pace and even quickening it.
You grasped at his hair, the white-blonde strands fisted in your hand as you moaned broken strings of his name as your first orgasm washed over you, and in turn, him. You felt a rush of wetness come from your body, which was now glistening upon Aemond’s maw, his mouth still twisted into a smile, like he had just had the greatest meal of his life. He came up between your legs again, unbuckling his belt and discarding his trousers and undergarments without much ceremony– you both didn’t have time for it now, especially when you could see the weeping need coming from him, dripping at the tip of his cock. 
His lips found yours again, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. You didn’t consider yourself a sexual woman really, but God, if this wasn’t the epitome of eroticism– you wanted this moment seared into your brain like a brand. 
“I’ll go slow, love,” he breathed, lips barely parted from yours. “Let me know if it’s too much.”
You nodded in affirmation, not capable of forming words at the moment. You hope you'll become more adept at dirty talk, just seeing how one ‘Please’ spurred your husband into action like a horse at a derby. You felt the head of his cock swipe against your soaked core, then slowly easing in. The stretch alone, the flame of pain that was just there, right on the precipice, ignited that familiar feeling within you once more. It was goddamn delicious, the feeling of being full, full of your husband– the thought made your eyes roll back in your head for a moment as he buried himself to the hilt.
The cherry on top, however, was when you finally got a glimpse of Aemond’s face– both of his eyes were closed, mouth slightly agape, hair strewn mess. He was concentrating so intensely on not bursting inside of you within seconds, as your tightness squeezed him like a vice. “Fuck,” he grunted, his use of foul language sending shocks of pleasure throughout your extremities. “You’re so tight– Christ above.” Aemond began to move then, thrusting back and forth, just to focus his mind on the motions and not to bust a moment in. He murmured praises in your ear, some in English and some in another language you didn’t understand, but it was primal and ancient, you could tell just by how he sounded out the words, and it was no doubt something dirty and more than likely downright feral. “Issa gevie ābrazȳrys, sīr ȳrda, sīr vok. Ry ñuhon, ry ñuhon.” My beautiful wife, so tight, so perfect. All mine, all mine.
Judging by how he pounded into you, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room, coupled with your cacophony of whines and moans, he was close, chasing his high. His pace hastened and your legs fastened around his midsection to keep him as close as possible– a reaction your body made on its own, seemingly. 
A sequence of unintelligible curses and erotic sweet-nothings came from his mouth as he gave one final push– a low, reverberating grunt coming from the depths of his chest as he stilled, spending inside of you. His lips smeared against your neck, nothing coming from his mouth but hefty pants.
You both caught your breaths and he softened inside of you, then cleaned you both up after– you would’ve helped as well, but your legs were jelly, and simply refused to pick you up from the bed. Aemond was more than happy to pick you up and tuck you under the covers, holding you close to him, as if you might fly away during the night. 
You dreamed of dark hallways and pale visages looking upon you– you woke up several times during the night, seeing pairs of eyes staring at you, pity in their ghastly gaze. You would fall back asleep and think nothing of it.
“Looking at something, dearest?” Aemond hummed, his thumb parting another page further into the book he was reading, the room illuminated in candlelight. It had been a whole fortnight since you moved into the estate– you had been able to sit down and write even more, and Aemond had helped you send off your manuscript to a reputable publisher in London, who was a family friend of the Targaryens. You began your second novel, which was inspired by Dragonstone Hall and the odd dreams you’d had as of late, laden with peering eyes and ghostly figures.
You were perched on the window seat, the silk of your nightgown clinging to you like a second skin. Moving forward, you looked down upon the courtyard and beyond, seeing the moonlit horizon painting the sea, waves ebbing and flowing like beautiful clockwork. Glancing over your shoulder to your husband, his usual harsh features softened by the gentle flicker of the bee’s wax candles. A smile crept on your lips, which in turn, caused his own to upturn into a returning grin. “Just enjoying the view of the sea.”
“‘Tis dark, my love,” he closed the book, setting it aside. “Are you an owl and I did not know it? Seeing in the dark?” he got up from his position on the bed, making his way to you.
“Perhaps I am an owl,” you giggled, “But the moon and sky are especially clear tonight– a perfect view.”
He perched his chin upon your shoulder, looking out of the window with you. “A clear sky. That must be a good omen, hm? Alys has told me that it was storming constantly while I was gone.”
“A good omen indeed,” you purred, nuzzling your nose into his neck. Out of the corner of your eye, looking down into the courtyard, you could’ve sworn you saw two men, ghastly white, walking upon the green. But when you turned your head to get another look, Aemond enveloped your lips into a kiss, pulling you back towards him, and back towards your bed. You didn’t get another glimpse at the courtyard until it was cloudy and dark once again.
No one was there.
“Oh, hello, Miss Rivers,” you murmur softly, your voice still hoarse with sleep. You brush a few errant curls away from your face as you go to pour yourself a cup of tea, bare feet padding upon the tiled kitchen floor. “Good morning.”
“Just Alys is fine, dear,” she smiles, her emerald eyes shining clearly– she must’ve already been wide awake for a few hours. “Please, let me.” Alys sits up from her chair, moving near you and pouring water from the kettle into your cup before you could even grab it.
You glance up at her– she was much taller than you, like Aemond– a feeling of embarrassment coming over you. “Oh– thank you,” you manage to muster, “But it… it isn’t necessary, Mis– Alys.”
The older woman looks at you with an expression of curiosity, you had said something truly novel. “Ah. You aren’t like the others, then. Good.” she smiled, the sides of her mouth crinkling. Something about it made your heart skip a beat– what was going on?
“The others?” you asked, stirring your cup which was now steeping with a fruity, floral tea bag. You scooped a heap of sticky honey from a reserve of it on the counter, preferring your tea extra sweet. 
Alys watched as you stirred in the thick substance, before lifting her eyes to you. “The other– former– denizens of the estate, my lady. Lord Targaryen’s other family. Excellent employers, but they always asked for me to do things beyond my job description. Pour tea, serve lunch, draw baths." She took a seat then at the small kitchen table, but not before grabbing the entire jar of honey, putting it in the middle. 
You took a seat across from her. “As a… governess, your job is to care for and educate children, correct?” you crossed one leg over the other, leaning back against the wooden backing of the chair, which was carved with intricate depictions of dragons and swords.
“Correct, my lady. Sometimes the estate was bereft of children, thus no one to care for or teach. Between you and I, sometimes the adults acted as overgrown children, demanding and grabby,” she spooned honey into her own cup, which was a dark, swirling liquid you couldn’t quite identify. “As it is now– but more so. You, Lord Targaryen, and I are the only denizens of the Keep.”
You coughed slightly as you heard her. The only ones? There were only three of you at this massive estate– and… what of the faces you saw when you arrived? The men you saw out in the courtyard just the eve before? You placed down your cup with a shaky hand. “P-pardon me,” you sputtered, hitting a hand upon your chest to try and catch your breath. “We are the only ones?” you looked at Alys with wide eyes.
“Yes, my dear. But this building is centuries upon centuries old, you know. Do you believe in ghosts, Lady Targaryen?”
You perked up at the notion, the part of your brain that loved the macabre and weird firing off on all cylinders. “Oh, yes! They interest me quite greatly.”
Alys gave a lopsided smile, her brows perked as if surprised by your reaction. “I didn’t expect such… an enthusiastic response, my lady. Most women are afraid of such ghastly notions.” she leaned forward, propping her chin on her open palm. “The estate is haunted, you know, by centuries of Targaryens past and then some.” 
“Oh, you must tell me their names and stories,” you leaned forward in turn, mimicking her interest in the conversation and then some, fully enraptured by the tales of tragedy, of love long lost, betrayal and beyond. 
The two of you ended up talking at the table for hours, until the sun was high in the sky to indicate noon– you only parted with her when Aemond had come into the kitchen to request your presence in the gardens. He was quite amused that you and Alys had melded together so quickly– he quoted you as ‘two barn owls, flitting feathers in the rafters and sharing stories over a juicy mouse’. 
It made you giggle.
From that day on, your days started and ended much the same. You would be excited, giddy, like a kid on Christmas morn, to go down and talk to Alys. You didn’t quite understand why you were so excited to be around her, why she enraptured you so– it felt good to entertain her and make her laugh, much in the same vein as you felt doing similar for Aemond.
You admired her, in a way, she was such a strong woman, yet unmarried and without children. But she cited that she didn’t need them, the husband at least. She had confessed to you that she had been married before, long ago in her youth. ‘Young, dumb and in love’, she had explained it– only to find out that she was unable to have children. Your heart clenched as she told her story, how she desperately wanted children of her own and went into governess work to have some semblance of it. 
In turn, you opened your heart to Alys, confiding about your mother and the struggles with losing her at such a young age. You cried and embraced her, to which she returned wholeheartedly– but she didn’t cry.
Your nights would come to a close within Aemond’s grasp, whether upon the bed, prostrated on his desk, or in the reading nook. ‘Twas a dreamy life for you.
You woke on a particularly dreary morning, over three months after your marriage, the downpour of sodden English weather clouding the skies and dampening the moods of everyone involved. Lightning struck, thunder rumbling the ground thoroughly and without mercy. When you stepped out of your bedroom, Aemond was still asleep– he had worked through the night on a massive proposal to the Lord of the next town over, working out some trade routes to have fresh fruit brought up to the estate in exchange for the homegrown honey.
Your bare feet padded on the wooden floors, they were cold and the air felt… thick and slightly electrified. It sent your head into a tizzy as you grabbed the metal knob of the washroom door, feeling a sparking jolt go through you. It shocked you! Rattled, but undeterred, you put your hand on the knob again and attempted to open it, only to be met with another tremor of electricity, stinging the palm of your hand. 
“Come on,” you groaned in frustration, practically crossing your legs by how badly you needed to relieve yourself. Electroshock therapy be damned, you wouldn’t be shut out of the privy any longer. You pressed your shoulder to the door, twisting the knob as it continually pestered you with numbing sparks, then gave the door a firm push– it gave away, opening and sending you sprawling to the floor at a high velocity. You landed on your knees, face inches away from the lip of the tub; you cringed as you imagined the sight of your face smashed to a jelly, bleeding out upon the floor. Small mercies. 
Pulling yourself up, you glanced over the bathtub, using it as leverage to get up. Upon looking into it, you saw something you never expected to– a woman, nude and red haired with translucent skin was curled in the bath in a fetal position, her throat slashed and bleeding red rivulets, blending into the small droplets of water that lined the tub. You were too surprised to scream, pushing yourself back from the tub and once again sprawling to the floor, mouth agape. 
You were going insane– surely…
Your heart was in your throat as you eased up, glancing back into the tub. The woman was gone, the porcelain lining of the tub clean as could be. 
Mayhaps Alys’ ghost stories had gotten to you, more than you thought? 
Turning around to finally use the privy, you were in awe that you didn’t piss yourself, you sat down on the toilet, your head in your hands as you emptied your overly full bladder. It was silent, save for the sound of the rain pattering against the stained glass window pane, the distant rumble of thunder and… heavy breathing. You stopped your own breaths– the sound consisted. It was right in front of you. 
With shaky hands slowly moving away from your eyes, you looked upon who was in front of you. It was the woman you saw in the bathtub– her neck still bleeding, her eyes wide and bloodshot, her face stained with tears and blood. Her chest rose and fell heavily with her ghastly breaths as she stared right at you. Her jaw was broken, mouth off kilter as it was agape with her labored puffs, teeth askew and rotted. You still felt like you weren’t breathing, your heart pattering like a hummingbird in your chest, about to explode.
“Who. Are. You.” she asked, voice far away and broken, like a whisper on the wind.
“L-Lady Targaryen,” you responded, your head pounding in sync with your heart– you felt like you were about to pass out.
The woman looked at you, her already wide eyes widening beyond the point they should even be able to, the sclera eclipsed in pure red, tinging on inky black ichor. Her hand, gaunt and bony, raised to you, her pointer finger pointing at you, inches away. “You,” she hissed. “You. Won’t leave this place. You. Will die. And stay here. Bones and all. Sinew and muscle, pulled from flesh.”
“W-who are you? How can I help you?” you whispered frantically, your entire body shaking. 
Her mouth twisted into a sickly smile. “You. Cannot help. For I– am you. Lady Targaryen. One. Of many.”
You blinked, eyes roving to think of something to respond– but when you looked up, she was gone. The air was normal and the storm outside had quelled. It was as if nothing had happened. You sat still on the toilet, eyes open until they started to burn. 
What just happened? Are you truly going mad?
You rushed downstairs after, almost tripping and falling at least twice along the way. You rushed to find Alys, who you hoped would quell your mind like the storm had been. 
“Alys,” you croaked, flying into the kitchen like a bat out of hell. “Alys, Alys,” you blubbered, you weren’t sure when you started crying. 
She was sitting at the table, up in an instant. “My dear, my dear, what’s happened? Are you alright?” she crooned, arms around you instantly. 
“I-I… please, promise you won’t think I’m mad–” 
“We are all mad in some ways, dearest. You can tell me anything.” she hummed, sitting you down on your chair and fixing your tea for you, bringing over the fresh honey, the comb still attached. 
“T-there was a woman,” you breathed, your finger slicing across your neck to indicate where her bleeding wound had been. “S-she… she… she said I’m going to die?” you took your tea with a shaky hand, sipping, but it didn’t help calm you. “I-I’m a horror author, I shouldn’t be scared of this sort of thing, Alys! What is wrong with me? I’m going mad.”
“Shh, shh, dove,” she instructed, pulling her chair around the table to sit close to you, arm still around you. “Just breathe– did you get enough sleep last night?”
“Y-yes– I.. I think so,” you murmured, hands still shaking.
Alys took your hand in hers, the other going to spoon some honey from the bowl. She roved small smoothing circles over the back of your palm. “You must get more rest, dearest. I’ll make you a tea tonight, it will help,” she whispered, her mouth close to your ear as she guided the spoon of honey, comb and all, towards your mouth. “Open.”
You had to chalk it up to the storm, the nightmare or whatever you could categorize your encounter with the ghostly woman as, but you recused yourself into Alys’ touch, eyes trained taut upon her as you opened your mouth. She spooned the honey onto your tongue, pulling the utensil away with a sticky trail of saliva and honey– to which she proceeded to lick off. 
Your head was swirling– you had admired Alys and thought her beautiful from the moment you saw her and you always liked women. You thought them soft and warm and could fill a certain void within you left by the death of your mother– but you had never… thought of a woman in a romantic light, surely? Your heart skipped a beat as you were so close to her, mouth parted. You could smell her light perfume, a lovely scent of vanilla and floral notes. 
The same feeling of elation that you felt when Aemond caressed you, kissed you, whispered sweet nothings to you was prominent in the pit of your stomach. You could count the speckles of light hazel in her emerald eyes from your close proximity. It was unsure who closed the gap first– but your lips melded to Alys’, tasting the sweet honey on her mouth, swiping your tongue across them to gather the syrupy nectar. Her hand caressed the back of your neck so tenderly as you pressed closer together, mouths parting to envelop each other’s tongues until the tastes of both of you were one in the same– saccharine, cloying, sticky sugar.
You had forgotten who you were or where you were, only enjoying the moment with Alys, when you heard the rumble of thunder off in the distance, it broke you from your union. Panic washed over you, your face going beet red. 
What had you done? 
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babyblue711 · 10 months
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Redemption
Will (Salad Days) - Completed
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Temptation
Ettore (High Life) - Completed
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Devotion
Osferth (The Last Kingdom) - Completed
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Surrender
Aegon II Targaryen (Modern AU) - Completed
Part 1 - (Aegon x Reader)
Part 2 - (Aegon x Reader x Aemond)
Part 3 - (Aegon x Reader x Aemond)
Loyalty
Aemond Targaryen (HOTD) x Alys Rivers
Part 1
Part 2 - WIP
Little Dragonseed - Sister Story to Loyalty - Part 1 - (Aemond x Handmaid) - Part 2 - Part 3 - WIP
Last updated: 5/20/2024
Divider by @cafekitsune
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cambion-companion · 2 years
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Aemond watching his two wives smooch:
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phew I don't know if I am qualified to do this fam but here we goooooo
Aemond x female!reader x Alys drabble | light smut | heavy petting
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You arched your neck into her touch as Alys kissed her way down to your shoulder to the hollow of your throat. You tugged her back up to your face, pressing a soft kiss to her full lips, your hand traveling down the bodice of her green dress to knead at the swell of her breast.
She moaned, a delicious sound, into your mouth as she moved against you. Her tongue swept across yours, her own hands traveling up your thigh to the apex of your legs. You spread your thighs open wider, allowing her delicate fingers to explore your heat with dexterous intent.
Leaning on the frame of the doorway, Aemond watched the two women tangled up together on the cushioned couch. Their bodies moved together in sensual rhythm, seeking the friction they both desperately craved. His lilac eye flickered across their lithe bodies, twisting against each other, the hands that roamed and caressed, their mouths moving against each other with increasingly lewd sounds.
He yearned to join them, but at the same time was loathe to interrupt such a divine scene. Aemond shifted uncomfortably from his place at the door, his hard arousal confined still within his tightening breeches. Only when the women began moaning in earnest did he step forward to join in their pleasure.
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two-white-butterflies · 9 months
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As Lovers Often Do
Description: Alyssa Strong was born to be Aemond's wife. As the dance occurs, certain consequences are levied upon her. "An eye for an eye. A son for a son."
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ACT ONE: MOTHER AND FATHER
Chapter One: Meeting Chapter Two: Driftmark Chapter Three: Politics Chapter Four: Alyssa I Chapter Five: Alyssa II Chapter Six: Crow/The Stranger
Playlist
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