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msmorningstaarr · 4 months

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let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

ao3 | masterlist

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

Summary: You, a Targaryen princess were married into the Lannister fold to ensure the alliance between the two houses, ensuring your eldest brother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Lord Jaime makes your days filled with happiness and makes you eager to present him babies.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: rhaegar wins AU, no targcest, smuff, fluff, breeding kink, praising kink, a lot of pet names (sweet girl, princess, love), reader has no physical description besides the silvery white targaryen hair, creampie, oral (f receiving), a very devoted husband commited to your pleasure, smut, sex;

a/n: Happy new year! I had posted I wanted to write something like that and it's been a while since I want to write something other than holy and heathen because I must admit I'm not very satisfied with what I've been writing lately. Some validation kudos, comments and reblogs would be very important to me, seriously :') I’ve been thinking in turning this into a small series but I’m not so sure. Could you give me your thoughts on this too? please, enjoy your reading!

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody

You are sitting surrounded by your maids and children on a breezy night, covered with a fur coat and a crimson silk dress under it. Attentively, you go stitch by stitch and slowly form a lion, sigil of your husband’s house. Ever since Robert’s Rebellion ended and your brother, King Rhaegar Targaryen won, you became promised to the former knight of the Kingsguard, now Lord Jaime Lannister. Life in the lion’s den was not difficult, once Lord Tywin treated her with the most kindness and Jaime was still coming out of his shell. At first, he was your sworn sword in King’s Landing and spent plenty of time together in an unbalanced relationship. Now, you two are sharing a bed after a tumultuous year of war and destruction, as equals. In the beginning, you were sceptical about marrying into the Lannister household, but as the months went by, you found yourself drowned at him. Jaime is careful, gentle and kind. He brings you a small dandelion every morning once he knows it reminds you of home.

His only quirk was the strange attachment to his sister, Lady Cersei. But after being sent to Dorne to marry Prince Oberyn of House Martell and getting distant from each other, your relationship with your husband seemed to finally thrive.

“It appears to be beautiful, my lady.” Said one of her maids, taking care of your youngest son, a small silvery blonde figure of two years of age.

“A bright lion handkerchief for Jaime to carry with him.” You reply, admiring your piece of work. “Do you believe your father will like it, sweetling?” You then ask your eldest daughter, an adorable child of four. Your daughter eagerly nods her head and wraps her hands around one of your fingers to pull the fabric closer to her eyes.

“Dada will love it, mama!” The little one exclaimed, spinning around with the kerchief on her tiny hands.

“What will I love, if I’m allowed to ask?” A tall, blonde figure shows up in your private bedchambers, wearing a classic Westerland attire with a crimson fabric and intricate strings of gold shaped into the sleeves and collar. You smile sweetly to Jaime as he approaches you and grabs your middle child to hold in his arms.

“Papa!” The blonde little girl runs towards her father to embrace his legs and your maids stand up to bow to their lord.

“Have you missed me, dear?” Jaime asked and the fussy children eagerly nodded at him, embracing their father even more. Sometimes, seeing Jaime being so loving and kind towards your children simply melted your heart. You felt the urgency to kiss him and dig your fingers onto his bright hair, begging him for another child. Your cunt ached in pleasure to the thought of Jaime pumping his seed inside of you. You were still young and could bear many more children.

“Mm-rrhm…” You scoffed. “I have missed you too, husband.”

The three children giggled and the child on his arms hid his face on the crook of Jaime’s neck. The eldest covered her laugh with her tiny hands and the youngest beamed along their siblings. Jaime came closer to you and caressed your cheeks with his free hand. Then, a single and gentle kiss he places over your forehead, making your heart flutters with love and passion.

“I have missed you too, my love.” Jaime said, passing his fingertips on your chin and smiling at you.

Your maids quickly stood up and bowed at their overlord as a sign of respect. “Excuse me, my lord, my lady,” Said the servant girl. “Let us take the children so you can rest.”

“But I want to stay with papa!” Said the elder daughter, pouting and crossing her arms. The other two children whined and complained along, but you lowered into their level whilst Jaime talked to the youngest on his arm.

“Sweetlings,” She said, caressing their cheeks. “Your father is rather tired after riding for so long. Go with her, I promise you, your siblings, me and your father will have plenty of time together on the morrow. Is that understood, my loves?”

“I can take you to ride a horse tomorrow and even let you eat lemon cakes before super. What do you think?” Jaime asked, delivering the fussy child from his arms to the other maid. In unison, the three infants agreed and left disappointed. Once you and your husband were alone in your bedchambers, Jaime smiled at you gallantly. You embrace him intimately and are finally able to feel the warmth of his muscular body and feel the softness of his golden hair. His lips reach yours and in a whirlwind of sensations, your cunt is already dripping in anticipation just by a simple touch coming from him. Once he breaks the kiss, he keeps holding you by your waist and gazing at you with admiration.

“You have been gone for too long, love.” You say, passing your fingertips on his lips. He smiles and gives you a peck on the lips before speaking.

“I had duties with your brother, Our Grace King Rhaegar, sweet girl.” Jaime replies, pulling her out gently and grabbing the fabric she embroidered for him.

“I hope you like it, I made it just for you.” You point out, joining your hands to follow him. He keeps smiling as he observes attentively the intricate work you did.

“I shall cherish it and take it wherever I go, dragon princess.” He replied, folding and putting the kerchief in one of his pockets. You giggle as you hear him calling you ‘dragon princess’, a custom he chose to never abandon as a form to remember the late days of their relationship “I wish I had more time to be around and play with the children, I have been missing them and you.”

“They made drawings every day and left it on your desk at your office.” You reply, walking to the window and being followed by him.

“I will make sure to have them guarded in our chambers. Safe as our gold.” He says, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck lightly. You beam in ecstasy feeling his body smother you into a comforting embrace and full missing him.

“Sometimes I still cannot believe we are wedded to each other. You were my sworn shield in King’s Landing!” You exclaim as his hand caresses your empty belly and it tingles by his touch. He grins at your words and says.

“Most people are not so lucky to know your spouse before the wedding day. I consider myself the most lucky man in the world because I could be in your acquaintance from so long ago.” He replies, falling his head on the crook of your neck.

You turn around to be face to face with Jaime, feeling the cold breeze of the rock hitting your back and giving you small shocks as Jaime caresses your back, making you experience a thermal shock and shudder to his touch.

“I feel very lucky to be your wife, Jaime. Most women are not so fortunate to have such a kind, loving and handsome husband.” You mutter as he strokes your hair, in awe with your beauty.

“I guess we are fortunate to be together after so many troubles in war. We even brought new lives into this world to paint a new, brightful history.” He replies, caressing your womb. You stare at his fingers passing up and down your belly and glances at him with a sweet smile.

“And we could have more, love. I must admit I feel empty for so long and I want to give you more children… I know I can give you an entire army of your own. Half lion, half dragon. Unstoppable creatures.”

“You feel empty, love?” He asks, smirking and you eagerly agree with him. “Then allow me to fill you up…” Jaime finished, slowly undoing the intricate laces of your dress to reveal your bare skin under the crimson fabric. In response, you open his attire slowly and little by little his white tunic appears to her eyes.

By this point, your cunt is already sore in anticipation for the moment about to happen and clenches around nothing once he pushes the last section of string holding your garment, releasing you from the pressure tightening your upper body. Jaime pushes down your dress and your underwear is now on display for him, which makes him bite his lip and eagerly take down your white camisole to show him your bare body. You moan as he squeezes your breast and pinches your nipples whilst kissing you. You quickly take off his own undershirt to show off his chest.

“So eager is my dragon princess.” He playfully says, leading you to bed and carefully laying you down. With devotion, he starts to kiss your feet, legs and knees, his hands roaming through your thighs and hips. “Spread your legs for me, little dragon.”

You part your legs, obeying his soft command. “So wet… I can see you truly missed me, my love.” He says, kissing your inner thighs as your body squirms in pleasure before he reaches your intimacy.

“Oh… I have missed you so much, my lion.” You moan your words as he kisses your groyne and passes his fingers lightly over your clit, making your womb tremble and convulse to his touch.

“I can see that, just as I missed you, my dragon princess. Do I have permission to give you a lord’s kiss?” He asks and you only nod in response, making Jaime wet his lips with his own saliva before diving into your dripping core and you to scream involuntarily as his tongue and lips eat you up with full desire. Jaime circles his tongue around your clit and roam around your entire intimacy, making your hips bounce onto his direction. It was his costume to make you come every time before he would be inside of you, now could not be different.

You feel your body explode as if someone threw you into dragon fire as Jaime relentlessly pleases you, making magic with his tongue. Skillfully, he explores your intimate area inch by inch with eagerness, making you dig your fingers on his golden curls, pulling him closer to your cunt and you contorses your body urging for more. Tears of pleasure fall off as you feel goosebumps once you realise you are close to your climax.

As the intensity builds, Jaime's movements become more deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. Your breath hitches, and your fingers entwine in his golden locks, urging him on. The world narrows down to the pleasure he provides, the connection between you deepening with every passing moment.

When the climax finally crashes over you, Jaime doesn't relent. He continues to caress your sensitive core with his tongue, prolonging the sweet release. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you feel the bond between you and Jaime reaching new heights.

“Husband…” You try to stop him and give yourself some time to take a breath, but Jaime does not back off and part your legs once more, holding it as he keeps licking, kissing and sucking your pussy.

“No no, wife… let me please you and bring you to climax once more…” He cuts your words and gently goes back, but now he plays with his fingers on your clit, with far less pressure and slowly draws circles around it, taking soft moans from you. Jaime rises to hover over you, a wicked glint in his eyes. His fingers trace patterns on your flushed skin as he leans in for a heated kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips. “Taste yourself, love.”

And not so long after, you scream his name as you feel waves of pleasure hitting your body as a lightning bolt hits the ground in a storm. Your body is trembling and your legs seem to be two wooden sticks, barely able to stand.

“Please… inside of me, Jaime… I need you…” You plead with him, pulling his body to be on top of yours.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” He replies, kissing you passionately once more and positioning between your legs. Jaime's eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. The anticipation was hanging heavy in the air, your bodies aligned perfectly, and as he slowly entered you, a shared moan escaped both of your lips.

The sensation is electrifying, the culmination of the pleasure he bestowed upon you and the intimate connection between your bodies. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deepening the bond that exists only between you two.

“My perfect princess takes me so well…” He grows as thrusts into you going back and forth nonstop. You lock him by involving your legs around his waist and feeling his hard cock entering your cunt in full force, reaching your cervix and making you beg for more in his ear.

The room echoes with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies, creating a tapestry of love and passion.

“Put another babe on my belly Ser, please…” You beg him as moans leave your mouth and the sound of crashing bodies fill the room quickly.

“With pleasure, love…” He says once more. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deeper inside of your pussy in farfetched positions. He missed you too much after months away from you and it shows by the way he kisses you as he moves desperately to have more of mounting his dragon. The room echoes with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies. As Jaime's movements become faster, the pleasure intensifies, and you find yourself on the verge of another climax. The pleasure is overwhelming, and your bodies move in perfect harmony.

With a final, fervent thrust, Jaime succumbs to the ecstasy and releases his seed deep inside of your womb, growling and grunting with relief and utter bliss. You hit your own orgasm as you feel the warm jets of his seed invading your walls and your body squirm and you scream his name, crying out.

Your bodies tremble in the aftermath, and he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is filled with a comforting silence as you both catch your breath. Jaime's fingers gently trace patterns on your skin as you bask in the warmth of the afterglow. “Do you think we created one more life for our household, love?” You ask him, laying your head on his chest. The world outside your chambers seems distant, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the serenity of each other's embrace.

“Depending on your fertile womb, my love, I have no doubts you are.” He replies, caressing your silvery white hair. “But we must endure in our pursuit on a daily routine. Just to make sure our fourth babe is on the way.” He playfully replies, smirking at you, who mischievously smiles back at him and kisses his lips, wiping some strings of sweat from his face.

Jaime presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur, "I love you, my dragon princess."

And you, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, whisper back, "And I love you, my lion shield."

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gulnarsultan · 7 months

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Yandere Conquerors and Immortal Modern Reader cute scenario.

Yandere Visenya, Aegon and Rhaenys being busy with the Conquest and talking about laws and other royal stuff, until they hear a few knocks on their door.

Immortal Modern Reader stands near doorway, with a sleepy look on her face.

Yandere Aegon: Y/N, love. What’s wrong?

Immortal Modern Reader: It’s just… can you cuddle me?🥺

P.S.: Omg, I can’t help but imagine how cute Immortal Modern Reader is.

Can you write a continuation of this scenario? If you can of course

The reader is the sweetest person in the world. No one can deny this.

Scenario

When night falls, you need to find one of your dragons. It is very difficult for you to sleep alone. Anyway, one of the Conquerors always finds you before it's time to sleep. This time it took too long. When you enter the throne room, you attract the attention of all three Conquerors. Visenya is the first to reach you.

"I'll join you tomorrow morning. I now have an appointment with this beautiful lady."

Meanwhile, Aegon and Rhaenys are sulking at their older sister. After you both put on your comfortable nightgowns, you go to bed. Visenya pulls you into her chest. Listening to her heartbeat while stroking your hair is very relaxing. After a while, you fall asleep with trust and a warm embrace.

#yandere game of thrones #aegon the conqueror x reader #aegon the conqueror x oc #aegon the conqueror #aegon i targaryen #rhaegar targaryen x reader #rhaenys targaryen #rhaenys the conqueror #visenya the conqueror #visenya targaryen

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daenaera-t · 8 days

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The Bastard Queen

Chapter 2 Warning: None At The Moment

Summary: the children’s parentage is loudly out to question

The sun was bright, the chirping birds flying high up within the bright blue sky and near the clouds as they ignored anything that was happening down below them. In the fighting grounds within Red Keep, the royal children could be seen fighting makeshift dummies with wooden makeshift swords tight in their grips. Just a few feet away from the four boys , Daenaera sat on the stone cold steps while twirling a flower that her aunt, Princess Helena, had given to her earlier in the day.

Glancing up occasionally, the princess' dark eyes met Aegon's violet eyes as the prince looked up at her like she had been doing to him before he went back to practicing , making sure to look cool in front of her. Just a bit in front of the princess, the Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Criston Cole, had his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the boys.

While they switched dummies once again as per usual, Jacaerys and Aemond bumped shoulders with one another, not apologizing for saying a word as they walked by each other. Just across from them, Aegon patted Lucerys shoulder before they were fighting again like the other two. Meanwhile, Ser Criston stood beside Aemond, instructing him to do stuff he wasn't doing, like softening his knees, making his feet light as he ignored the frustrated look on the prince's face.

While he swung the woöden sword, Aemond glanced in Daenaera's direction, seeing she was still twirling the flower between her fingers, taking a deep breath in as he continued to do what the guard told him. Jacaerys stabbed his wooden weapon into the dummy in front of him, making the tip of it stick into it just when Aemond used his own to knock it down, causing the brown haired prince to bend down and pick his sword up.

After swinging his sword around, Aegon stopped in his tracks as his violet eyes stopped on two handmaidens walking by, their nervous eyes glancing at him to see the bright smirk etching on his lips as he stared at them just when Criston called out his name, making him look away.

"I've won my first bout, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy." Aegon comments.

Criston shrugs, nodding. "You'll have a new opponent then, My Lord of the Straw. Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother."

As the guard grabs one of the many wooden swords, Aegon looks to his brother with raised brows as Jacaerys and Lucerys step off to the side. Interested, Y/n stood up and walked over until she was beside her brothers. Soon enough, the Targaryen brothers were letting out grunts as they tried to hit at Ser Criston, but the guard seemed to be quicker than them, using one hand only as the other rested behind his back.

Aegon ran forward to try and hit him but Criston pushed him towards Aemond, causing them to bump into one another as the older prince tried to regain his footing. Unfortunately, neither of the brothers had been able to hit the guard as they moved to stand with the other two brothers and their sister. Meanwhile, just a bit behind them, Ser Harwin had been watching the whole thing as his gaze moved to his children, looking to the boys, calling out to them as they looked over.

"Weapons up, boys. Give your enemies no quarter." Harwin instructs, making Criston look at him.

"It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston."

"You question my method of instruction, ser?" Criston asks.

"I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils." Harwin replies just when Aegon pushed Lucerys to the side a bit.

"Very well. Jacaerys, come here." Criston demands, harshly grabbing a hold of the front of the boy's armor and pulling him forward.

"You spar with Aegon. Eldest son against eldest son."

"It's hardly a fair match." Harwin points out when Jacaerys looks over at him with a panicked look as Aegon pats his nephew's shoulder.

"I know you've never seen a true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn't something anyone should expect." Criston argues.

Harwin doesn't say anything else, only staring at the guard with narrowed eyes. From the side, Daenaera felt her little brother grab her hand as she looked at the back of her other brother's head nervously, knowing Aegon was a lot stronger and bigger than him. Noticing this, Aemond reached over and gently grabbed her hand in hope of giving her comfort. When Criston gave them the go, Aegon was the first to do something as he rushed towards his nephew, swinging his sword while Jacaerys stepped back in shock.

Aemond grabbed a hold of Daenaera's hand , pulling her off to the side while Daenaera pulled Lucerys with her when the two boys were rushing right in their direction before Aegon shoved Jacaerys to the ground with one hand, making the younger prince grunt in slight pain. He was quick to get up to his feet, however, lunging towards his uncle while letting out a cry, making Aegon step back in shock. It wasn't long until they were on either side of one of the dummies when the white haired prince pushed the dummy towards his nephew, making him take a few steps back before it fell on him. Harwin points a finger at Aegon.

"Foul play." he yelled

"I'll deal with him." Criston assures.

Either of the men went to the boys, Criston roughly grabbing the collar of Aegon's armor while Harwin did the same with Jacaerys, just more softly than the other man. The sound of their voices could be heard.

When Criston looked back over at the father and son, Harwin had a soft grip on Jacaerys chin as the prince nodded and smiled at the older man, listening to his words.

Aegon clenched his jaw, his cries being heard as they were back to fighting, the occasional sounds of Criston's instructions that turned into a shout as Aegon sent a foot against his nephew's chest, sending him down to the ground. Aegon continued swinging his sword around, listening to the guard. Seeing that Criston wasn't gonna stop it, Harwin was quick to grab ahold of Aegon's sword, stopping the fight while shoving the older prince away, sending him to the ground.

Just above on the balcony, King Viserys I Targaryen had been watching as his grandsons and sons were fighting. Daenaera rushes to her twin brother, helping him up with Lucerys by their side.

"You dare put hands on me?" Aegon screams.

"Aegon!" Viserys calls out in a scolding tone.

"You forget yourself, Strong. That is the prince." Criston reminds.

"This is what you teach, Cole?" Harwin questions, ignoring his words while he grabbed the swords that each of the boys dropped to the ground. "Cruelty to the weaker opponent?"

"Your interest in the princeling's training is quite unusual, Commander.

Most men would only have that kind of devotion toward a cousin... or a brother... or a son." Criston comments in thought.

This finally seemed to be the last straw for Harwin as he dropped the swords, spinning around and roughly punching the guard in the face. This seemed to surprise everyone in the training ground, including the children as they stumbled back. Keeping her brothers close, Daenaera clutched the sleeve of Aegon's shirt while they watched with wide eyes. Criston collapsed to the ground, but Harwin didn't seem to be done yet as he climbed on top of him to continue his assault.

After a couple seconds, two guards rushed over and grabbed a hold of the Strong man, a few more having to rush over to keep the man back from the kingsguard, all while Harwin continued to scream at him to say those words again. Still laying on the ground, Criston smiled as if he had succeeded something before spitting the blood that laid in his mouth out, having a very strong hunch about the relationship between Ser Harwin Strong and the Velaryon children.

#fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #fanfiction #oc #aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #alicent hightower #hotd alicent #daemon targeryan #hotd #viserys i targaryen #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #rhaegar targaryen fanfiction #ao3 writer

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bunbunbl0gs · 11 months

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Modern rhaenyra 💋

masterlist

house of the dragon masterlist

join my tag list here :)

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xxpeppermintxx109 · 8 months

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#thedanceofdragonswip #the dance of dragons wip #xxpeppermintxx109 #rhaenyra ii targaryen #aerys targaryen #father daughter angst #because she will never be her father’s son #asoiaf #asoiaf fanfic #fanfic edit #ao3 #fanfic #rhaegar x oc #rhaegar targaryen #rhaella targaryen #viserys targaryen #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic

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damn-daemon · 2 years

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Introducing - Elyse Stark A House of the Dragon OC

The North was often forgotten by the Southern lords. It was a cold, barren wasteland as far as they were concerned, half a world away, and not worthy of the effort to journey to. But the North could never forget. House Stark could never forget. Dragons had forced their king to bend the knee, or suffer a fiery doom, and now the fate of their peace was determined by those same forgetful, pompous Southerners.

Elyse Stark was not satisfied to sit in the North while murmurs rose again about succession. A vulnerable Targaryen meant a vulnerable kingdom, and that always meant war. So, under the guise of becoming a lady-in-waiting to the Princess Rhaenyra, Elyse threw herself into the chaos and treachery of King’s Landing. She knew she could never make so grand an impact as to change the course of history, but any warning she could provide her family would make her sacrifice worth it.

What she did not expect was to catch the eye of Daemon Targaryen, or the fascination with the Rogue Prince that threatened to consume her. What would follow were years of obsession competing with the ever-constant desire for power, for the Targaryen prince could have only have one. A Stark could never give him what he desired most, but she was never far from his thoughts, nor he from hers.

Their dance with one another may prove to be as deadly as the one amongst the dragons.

#elyse stark #house of the dragon oc #game of thrones oc #daemon targaryen x oc #i hate summaries die a fiery death #look at me making lyanna and rhaegar before they were cool #pffff #i swear this story is cooler than what my crap writing implies #i'm obsessed

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elegantsplendour · 1 year

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Dance of the Court (Dance of the Empire Series Part I)

Chapter 4 See You Again

Aemond Targaryen’s life was a battle, a relentless one against a seemingly inescapable destiny of becoming another insignificant Targaryen royal, riding an ordinary dragon, holding a hollow position in court, accompanied by a mediocre noble woman, doomed to be forgotten in history. Aegon, on the other hand, had everything handed to him, a fierce dragon hatched upon his birth, the prestige and recognition that came with being the firstborn son and the potential birthright to inherit the Iron Throne.

Aemond Targaryen wanted everything and was ready to steal, scheme and slaughter.

But when his mother proposed to invite the eldest daughter of Tyland Lannister to accompany him, he was caught off-guard. Was he, the second son, the spare, truly promised of the “Beauty of Casterly Rock” and an alliance with the house sitting on a mountain of gold? Promise was a stranger to the One-Eyed Prince, as he had always been a taker, just as he claimed the largest dragon in the world.

Although Aemond had never been naive enough to assume that his untimely victory on Driftmark would result in no consequences, having his eye gouged out by his nephew had been a whole another ordeal. Every detail of that fateful night was etched onto his heart: the excruciating vulnerability as he screamed with agony, the scorching hatred for his whore of a half-sister while she suggested he to be “sharply questioned” for speaking the truth, the shame and anger he harboured against himself for not having been more observant of Lucerys’ moves and not being a more skilled warrior, the unquenchable thirst for revenge devouring his soul while he had to suppress it for the sake of the situation.

Today, Aemond witnessed his repressed greed and thirst for vengeance manifesting themselves in a new form - the dark brown eyes of Katherine Lannister. It was well-hidden behind her facade of delicate and innocent beauty, but something as vile as greed could never be subdued. The way she clung to his arm when Aegon made his depraved remark was almost as if she was him - the One-Eyed Prince himself.

Aemond took a deep breath as he took off his eye-patch and closed his eye, his mind wandering to the pretty face of the young Lannister, the way her sweet voice conveyed subtle calculation and a rare conviction, the way her head held high yet still remained soft and feminine, the way her silky skin touched his, the way her golden dress showed off her curves, the way her dark eyes beaming with raw curiosity, thrill and admiration as he told her he wanted everything.

He had felt lust before, though he didn’t like to admit it. The last thing he wanted was to succumb to an abhorrent lifestyle like his wastrel brother, who bedded half, if not more, of the whores on the Silk Streets. Thank the gods his mother married Helaena to Leo Tyrell, the noble and handsome heir of Highgarden, and not Aegon.

But this was like nothing he had experienced. It was no doubt - The One-Eyed Prince desired the Exquisitely Odd Lannister, and with that, he allowed his hands and mind to wander. For the first time for as long as Aemond could remember, a part of his mind that used to be consumed thirst of vengeance was replaced by hope, because he knew, he will see her again.

The young Lannister paced in her chamber, contemplating the beginning of the start of her new life in the Red Keep.

Her chamber was wide and majestic, bathed in beige and white, filled with faint scents of orchid and included a grand balcony with a splendid view of King’s Landing. Truthfully, Katherine had expected her chamber to be decorated with the dominant Hightower green or the intimidating Targaryen scarlet, implicitly demanding her allegiance and loyalty to the Green faction of House Targaryen. She felt a sense of reassurance as the Queen Alicent must have given the instructions to decorate her chamber with a neutral and elegant palette, intending for her to feel comfortable and at ease by surrounding her an architectural style that she thought represented Katherine Lannister.

Stepping on to the balcony, she gasp at the bustling night of King’s Landing showing before her feet. Closing her eyes, Katherine took a deep breath. She was in King’s Landing, free of the vile insults, manipulations and lustful eyes of Casterly Rock, yet she knew she escaped from one prison and entered another. This one, potentially far more dangerous, but it had meant stepping foot into the centre of power, knowledge, adventures and unknown. Katherine Lannister would rather die screaming in agony as her greed for more burnt her than submitting to fate.

The Lannisters had never been her family. Not now, not before, not ever. Katherine seethed with anger as she trailed her fingers over the roses, still feeling the sting of the thorn. It was like her family, always pricking and hurting her, never showing any affection or care. Everyone at Casterly Rock looked at her with pity, saying that her usual beauty in the House of the Lion was a blessing and a curse. Fuck them all, she thought.

Tyland never looked at her the way he did with his half-siblings, Alerie Tyrell’s children, with affection and warmth. In the Lannister men’s eyes, she was a fruit of a failed marriage, of a stubborn marriage, to be used for the gains of their House. They were ready to sell her to the highest bidder, for her to become some lord’s breeding mare and trophy. Katherine could not remember how many times she had wished to spit on her father and uncles’ face when they lectured her on her duty to their house.

Fuck your duty, she had cursed secretly. The only duty I owe is to myself and my own happiness. She had never felt like she belonged in Casterly Rock, surrounded by a family that despised her. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had always been an outsider in their world. But now, she was in King’s Landing, free from their grasp, and ready to make a name for herself.

As she licked the blood from her cut, she chuckled, mind drifting to the One-Eyed Prince. He was just like her, ambitious and unapologetic, not afraid to go after what he wanted. “And what is it that you want, Prince Aemond?” she had asked him. “Everything,” his answer calm and simple.

Katherine admired his audacity. How much strength must a man possess to speak of malicious rumours about him with such ease and eloquence? She wondered if Aemond had revealed his desires to anyone else, but the question quickly dissipated. Revealing such ambitions as the second son would’ve made him appear foolish, unwise, and presumptuous. Her lips formed a slight smile at this realization.

Aemond Targaryen’s gaze at his elder brother brought her back to the cruel taunting of her half-siblings: the fire devouring her soul while she decided to maintain her innocent facade, the sentiment of containing a flicker of flame from exploding.

As she went back into her chamber, she sank into the warm, fragrant bathwater, feeling the tension slowly melt away from her muscles. Unconsciously, her mind drifted back to the One-Eyed Prince’s beautifully slander figure, deep, resonant voice, his exquisite silver hair, his violet remaining eye gazing through her soul and the scar above his eyepatch, covering parts of himself he kept away hidden from the world, obstructive on his Valyrian ethereal features.

The Exquisitely Odd Lannister knew that they would most likely to be betrothed. She bit her lips at the thought. For some reason, she felt hopeful about the future in which they would become partners in this game, for she had never met someone who had sparked her soul as he did at first sight. For the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful, because she will see him again.

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thedeadthree · 1 year

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IOVANNA x DAEMON (hotd) 🔮🗡

UNA ULLER x AEGON II TARGARYEN (hotd) 🐍👑

CESSAIR x MAEGOR (asoiaf) 🐚🐉

ALVA x RHAEGAR (asoiaf) 🌸🎼

VALA(ENYA) x AURANE (asoiaf/got) ⚔️🌊

TAGGED BY the beloveds @queennymeria, @chuckhansen, @leviiackrman, @risingsh0t, @adelaidedrubman, @morvaris, @corvosattano, @marivenah, @nightbloodraelle, @shadowglens, @aartyom, @jendoe and @phillipsgraves to make the loves in this cutest picrew! ty ty so much! (and saw @50sjello do this as well <3)

TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @kingsroad, @denerims, @fragilestorm, @pearlcscent, @jackiesarch, @confidentandgood, @unholymilf, @leondaltons, @noonfaerie, @shellibisshe and you!

#only if you want to! 🤍🕊#the babies and the targ beloveds <3 #oc: iovanna dayne #x: iovanna x daemon #x: daevanna #oc: una nathaira uller #x: una x aegon ii #x: hand in unlovable hand #oc: cessair celtigar #x: cessair x maegor #x: duty is the death of love #oc: alva amaranthine #x: alva x rhaegar #x: praying for love paying in naivety #oc: valaenya targaryen #x: valaenya x aurane #x: auraenya #ALVA AND RHAEGY IM SOBBING ABOUT THEMM. they deserved their happy ending! singing in summerhall til they grew old! how dare the seven! 🌸💞😖#ajzjzjhx enya praying to the seven if one more suitor approaches her with a proposal <3 aurane has heart eyes! he’s in love!#and he’s so valid for that ! that’s THE pirate boy and dragon girl <3 #(they might have met earlier than the twow buuut i haven’t decided yet <3)#ajsjzjzj by aegons heart eyes and unas unhingedness they’re really an it couple of westeros i sure think so 🌿🐍😖#the thing that means the world to me was the halo for her <3 she’s an angel and he loves her for that <3 #SPEAKING OF THEE IT COUPLE OF WESTEROS vanna and daemy! they make me crazy! they’re so! more first meeting looks for her and daemy!#love at first sight BABIESS! THEN WHY DID IT TAKE YOU TWENTY PLUS YEARS THENN! YOU ALL HEARD ME! TWENTY PLUS!!!!! ✨😖#teeheheee maegy and cessair THATS maekys grandparents! the blueprint of unhinged and ray of sunshine for my asoiaf clowns <3 🌸💞😵‍💫#leg.ocs #leg.tagged #t: picrews

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alannybunnue · 1 year

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I just saw the oc de vidame, I think rhaegar read a lot about his ancestors' stories. and history repeats itself again for the Starks, but the difference is that the reader was an innocent woman. daerys targaryen is a very handsome man

Rhaegar is a copycat to be honest, he tries to copy his ancestors, but doesn't do it right and ended up destroying their dynasty

Daerys is the better version 😌

#ask #a song of ice and fire #yandere concept #yandere x reader #house of the dragon #yandere imagine #house targaryen #daerys targaryen #targaryen oc #rhaegar targaryen

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gulnarsultan · 1 year

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Headcanons yandere rhaegar targaryen please

Rhaegar is a clingy and ambitious lover. But that doesn't mean you should take it lightly. As soon as he sees you, he thinks it's destiny. He will do anything to get you. No one can stop him from taking you. He will compose for you with the harp. He will give you a lot of gifts. If you do not accept his offer for a long time, he will kidnap you. It will soon trap you in the baby trap. He will argue that children are proof of your love. He knows you can't escape because of the kids. He can go strong enough to dethrone his father for you. He will give you lots of hugs and kisses. He will never have mercy on his opponents. He will tell you poems in Valyrian. It always reminds you how much he loves you.

#yandare game of thrones #yandere rhaegar targaryen x reader #yandere rhaegar targaryen #rhaegar targaryen x reader #rhaegar targaryen #oc: rhaegor targaryen #a song of ice and fire #yandere asoiaf #house of targaryen #yandere targaryen

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inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 · 1 year

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Argument: the three lion's wives

Aerys II's eagerness to obtain more children causes the call of sorcerers and wizards of Essos for the concern of his sister wife Rhaella. After several miscarriages and the king's growing madness, he has decided on a drastic decision: to sacrifice his wife's womb for what do you know what? Meanwhile, Daenerys, the youngest Targaryen, worried about the state of her dearest sister, has arrived in King's Landing, but not alone, but accompanied by the young Tywin Lannister and his fiancée, Joanna. Together, they will discover the dragon's rebirth…no.

The Lannister rebirth.

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yourstruly-sephie · 2 years

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐀 𝐁 𝐫 𝐞 𝐰 𝐢 𝐧 𝐠 𝐅 𝐮 𝐫 𝐲

𝟐𝟕𝟖 𝐀𝐂 | 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦’ 𝐬 𝐄𝐧𝐝

The morning was haze and gloom—a slight drizzle filling the empty air. The coldness stuck to the skin, trailing damp kisses that left a person breathless. The fog was dense, making it hard for the naked eye to spot anything coming from the distance. The time was a quarter past seven, yet it was too dark to be a good morning.

Nyrella walked through the disheartening garden of Griffin's Roost. It was small and bare. Nothing but weeds and wilted flora decorated the space. The dark moist dirt was scattered everywhere on the pathway. Shards of tiny rocks and pebbles were a common motif through and throughout. The whole place was a sad thing, which added well to the mystery of the morning.

"Let us come inside," Arthur's rasped, a plea in his early morning voice, "the hearth is warm and hot tea waiting for you."

Nyrella was a step ahead of the worrying Kingsguard. She walked with her head held up and her hands comfortably positioned behind the small of her back. "I'd rather stay here for a little longer," she spoke softly.

"You've barely recovered," Arthur tried again to persuade her, "I do not want for you to be bedridden again."

The Valyrian princess let out a warm breath into the cool air, creating a fleeting mist reminiscent of clouds. She gracefully pivoted on the heels of her shoes to face her entire being towards Arthur. A small lipped smile formed on her pink lips. "Does it worry you that much?" Her head tilted as her lavender irises searched into his violet ones.

The Kingsguard was tight-lipped, keeping his word to himself. There was fear ever present, that if he were to answer her question, only the wrong words would escape him. His hand fidgeted with Dawn's hilt— a way to calm his nervousness.

Nyrella took Arthur's averting gaze and sudden quiet demeanor as an answer. She sighed once again. Her feet took a few steps forwards until she was beside him. She linked their arms together. "Another walk around this garden, then we can go inside," she said, shaking the wet dirt from the bottom of her gown.

"As you wish princess," Arthur replied as he led the way. He kept his stare on Nyrella, watching her intently as she strolled beside him. Her gaze was looking out into the distance, observing her foggy surroundings. She swayed to the movement of the winds as it pushed her long silver locks behind her shoulders.

"The weather is not kind to the flora here," Nyrella pointed out, frowning at the dead bush of roses across from her.

Arthur lifted his open palm in the air, "I fear the cruelty will continue. It is going to rain by the looks of those dark clouds."

"I long for sun again," a part of her reminiscence the way the burning rays hit her skin. She loved the warmth, and she missed it more and more everyday she was in the Stormlands.

"So do I," Arthur agreed. Dorne was unbearably hot through the year with little to no rain. The scorching sun took more lives than steel during the climax of the summer seasons. However, Arthur would take those chances than the dampness and gruel of the Stormlands. He was not used to so much rain and mud in his life. Dorne was his home, and it will always be.

Nyrella hummed softly, "I would like to visit Dorne one day. I've only been when I was a babe."

"I am sure Dorne would appreciate your visit. The people are generous and open unlike some in King's Landing," the Kingsguard replied.

"I would like to visit your home," she told him.

Arthur looked down at her, catching her gaze. The way her eyes glimmered reminded him of the way moonstones shine during the peak of the afternoon.

"There are better places in Dorne to visit such as the water gardens," answered with a small smile.

Nyrella shook her head feverishly, "And I am told that Starfall is a place to visit when in Dorne." Her voice went higher towards the end of her sentence, which was paired with a cheeky grin of sorts.

"And who told you that?" Arthur matched her playfulness. He leaned closer to her, wearing his smile in his eyes.

"Rhaegar did," Nyrella answered, "he saidthat when he was on tour, he thought Starfall was the most brilliant place he saw. He said that the castle glowed like a million stars during golden hour."

"Did he also mention that is how he and I met?" Arthur glanced at Nyrella, who wore knitted brows of confusion and shook her head in disagreement.

"I was ten and seven, your brother ten and five. We saw each other at the welcoming, however did not talk until the next day. I was training at the courtyard with my cousin. Your brother wanted to spar with me, telling me not to hold back," Arthur recounted.

"Why did he never told me this?" Nyrella muttered as she listened intently.

"To save his pride," Arthur grinned, "your brother was flat on the ground after a minute of sparring. I was afraid he had a temper, but Rhaegar laughed it off. He praised my talents over the course of his stay."

"And now, you are here," Nyrella used her hand to signal to Arthur's spot, "the greatest knight to have ever existed."

Arthur nodded, looking into the distance. Everything that he ever wanted came true, his dreams became real. He hoped his luck would remain constant because he still had dreams he wanted to come true.

"Nyrella—"

"Over there!!" Nyrella pointed out with her outstretched index. Arthur snapped his focus at the figures on the contrasting pathway.

"Rhaegar and Miles!" Nyrella excitedly yelled as she extended her arm upwards, waving at them. The pair snapped at the sudden call. They waved in return as they changed their direction to walk towards them.

Arthur straightened his stance when he caught Rhaegar's gaze. There was a silent exchange of words in a span of a glance. There was something in the Prince's eyes that made Arthur on edge.

"The maester said you should be recovering?" Rhaegar asked before leaning over to kiss Nyrella's temple.

"And what help would that be on my mental health, cooped up in my room without company? I'd rather be here," she responded.

Rhaegar hummed, resting his hands behind his back, "then we should all walk together since we are all here."

"You three should," Myles said, "I am excusing myself."

Nyrella furrowed her brows, "Is there somewhere you need to be?" She tried to find his gaze, but he refused to meet them.

"I remembered that Jon needed my help for tomorrow's journey to Storm's End," He closed.

"Then I'll see you for lunch. I've told the kitchen to pre—," Nyrella smiled.

"That won't be possible," Myles interrupted. "I have other arrangements to attend."

"Oh," Nyrella's voice trailed.

Myles nodded, bowing his head to the fair-haired princess, "My apologies truly princess. If you will excuse me." Myles turned around in a swift movement from the trio, walking back to the back entrance of the castle.

"Shall we go on then with the stroll sister," Rhaegar lightly touched Nyrella's elbow. She faced him, observing his other hand signaling to the pathway in front of them.

"What's wrong?" The Prince followed with a question, seeing the troubling look on Nyrella's face. He noticed that she was fidgeting with her hands again.

"Myles and I always have lunch together..."

"You cannot expect him to be on your beck and call," Rhaegar linked their arms as he urged her forward.

Nyrella bit her lip, "Yes, I know...but I felt an uneasiness from him."

"You worry too much Ny," Rhaegar pushed away her growing concern. "Everything is how they are meant to be."

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

The sound of leather boots against the nasty coloring of mud became the unwanted substitute to the song of birds. The air was rigid and cold, turning any exposed flesh a bruising red. The stench of human feces mixed with the seawater could bring a grown man into a high of ecstasy, and later, in consequence vomit their stomachs out. The sky, a permanent gray with heavy dark clouds, threatening to brew a dangerous storm that would fester for hours, days even. These were the promises the mighty seat of House Baratheon, Storm's End, condoned their guests, more so even their most esteemed guests.

Nyrella stood at the courtyard, gawking at the mythical castle. She had heard various variations of the construction of the centuries-old seat. Some rooted in magic, and some rooted in not-so-interesting lore compared to the prospects of magic's involvement. Her fragile mind could not wrap itself around the question of how a castle that seemed to be built with stone and brick could stay in a place known for the ravaging storms that ripped apart anything into smithereens. It was impressive, lurking in mystery.

"Are you doing well, your Grace?" The lord of house Baratheon cut through her daydream, bringing back Nyrella to her senses. She could tell by the raise of his brow that it was the second time he was reciting his question.

She blinked a few times, taking in the old and worn-out face of the storm lord. His dark hair was the color of the obsidian gemstones she wore as jewelry, but there were visible graying and stark strands of whites against the darkness of his hair. She conjured it was due to stress of his position and being cousins with the Mad King. Wrinkles were strategically drawn on to tell his age and mold him to look strong, tough as he aged. His eyes were the clearing of his dark features. They were tired but held a kindness.

"All is well, my lord, but I cannot say the same thing for the weather," Nyrella glanced above her to the growing clouds. The lord followed her gaze, humming to himself as he wore an unfazed expression.

"You must deem yourself lucky princess," he spoke softly, "you did not arrive during the middle of a storm."

"And if that were the case, my entitlements would still have forced me to purge through even the most dangerous of weather," Nyrella turned her head to look at the side of Rhaegar's sharp features. She had to refrain herself from rolling her lavender eyes and sticking her tongue at him. She could not taint her reputation in front of the lord of the Stormlands and his wife, who was in casual conversation with her brother.

Steffon Baratheon hummed again, "I do fear the tourney will be pushed back a day or so, if there is heavy rain and thunder tonight." And by the sight of the rapid growth of black clouds, his words became truer every passing moment.

This also meant, it would be more days Nyrella would have to stay in the damp, cold, and muddled conditions of Storm's End. One she was not too happy with.

"We have prepared your room, Princess Nyrella. They used to be your great grandaunt's quarters," a sweeter voice replaced Lord Steffon's rough baritone. The Lady of the Stormlands, Cassana of house Estermont, brightly smiled showing the top row of her teeth and the significant indentation of the wrinkles around her mouth. She was a beautiful lady with striking green eyes, one's that none of her sons inherited—a true shame for Nyrell loved her eyes.

Nyrella reflected the welcoming generosity with her own smile, "thank you Lady Cassana, that is very giving of you and Lord Steffon."

"It is our pleasure. Rhaelle Targaryen would have wanted the honor to have you stay in her space. There is no one more deserving than you," Lady Cassana gently placed a comforting hand on Nyrella's arm, squeezing lightly for assurance.

Nyrella nodded her head. There were no words to convey her gratitude, hoping her actions would speak louder. She was honored to stay in Rhaelle's quarters, to be in a space where a strong Targaryen lived and breathed. Yet, there was melancholy. The last time she stayed in Storm's End, Rhaelle was still alive in her old age but still stronger as she was in her youth. Nyrella remembered her smelling like the sourness of citrus.

"You have been kind to us," Rhaegar spoke for the both of them as Nyrella kept quiet and in her own thoughts. "We have nothing to offer but our deepest gratitude," his voice was like velvet to the ears. The charm rubbed off the lord and lady, who wore warm expressions to the duo siblings.

"Please, I insist you and your sister inside where the hearth burns hotter than Dorne's sun," Steffon stepped back to gesture his hand to the grand entrance to the castle.

"Husband," Cassana called out, "allow our eldest son, Robert, to escort the princess to her quarters."

"Oh. That would not be necessary," Nyrella tried to decline, "I am more than glad to have a servant show me the location."

"Nonsense. I cannot allow a servant to be your escort, it is a disrespect to you. My eldest will happily be your guide," Steffon glanced over to his shoulder to where three young men stood shoulder to shoulder beside each other. They all were spitting copies of their father, sharing everything down to their footwear.

The taller of the bunch, and the stronger built came forward by the subtle nod from lord Steffon. It was hard for Nyrella to show the distaste of seeing Robert. The heir of the Stormlands walked with his chest puffed out, taking as much space around him to show his importance. He wore a permanent smirk on his chiseled face that made women swoon at him. But not Nyrella, she wished she could punch the smugness of him. He infuriated her.

"Princess," Robert took her hand in his, leaning his head low to peck the whites of her knuckles. Nyrella forced herself a painful smile.

"Lord Robert," she mumbled out, "I hope your ride from the Vale to Storm's End was forgiving."

The young lord hummed, scanning his eyes over her features. The last time he saw Nyrella was when she was a youngling, but now, it almost seemed his eyes deceived him. He cocked his head to the side, his grin growing by the second, "I would say it was, but I would be lying."

"I presume the weather was not kind as today."

"Oh, no. It was not the weather that made the journey difficult. It was the lack of a woman's touch."

Nyrella quickly retracted her hand from him. A nasty bile rose to her throat threatening to come out, tarnishing the well-polish doublet Robert wore. It was made clear to her that his womanizing ways have not changed.

"I suppose we should be on our way. Your father predicted the storm to come any moment," she declared. She turned her head around to search through the crowd behind her. "Arthur, come with us," she commanded over her shoulder.

Arthur was stationed beside Jon. They were in each other's company throughout the entirety at the courtyard as the dragon siblings were greeted by the family of stags. Arthur connected his gaze with Nyrella, bowing his head to her in agreement. Yet, in front of the corner of his eyes, he could see the heir of Lord Steffon reaching a hand for Nyrella's arm.

"That would not be necessary, princess. You do not need a kingsguard on our ventures it—"

"It would be my pleasure, princess," Arthur hastily came beside Nyrella, blocking Robert from laying a hand on her. He offered his arm, which Nyrella took almost immediately. "Show us the way my lord," Arthur said, gesturing for Robert to lead the way.

Robert forced a smile, "Of course. Follow me." He glared towards Arthur's direction before leading the way into the castle.

Once the Baratheon heir was far from earshot, Nyrella breathed out in relief. "I could bear to be alone with him," she looked up at Arthur. Her eyes were filled with gratitude.

Arthur smiled down at her, "I could not let you go with him alone. I see why Rhaegar has a distaste for the man."

"For his house sigil to be prey, he is a walking contradiction. There is a predator behind those eyes," Nyrella glanced to observe Robert's massive back. To her, he even looked like a predator.

Arthur leaned closer to Nyrella. His hot breath brushing the tip of her ears, "All you have to do is say the words."

"What words?" Nyrella responded, her eyelids fluttering at the warmth of his breath.

"To command me," Arthur answered, "to cut him down."

"You'll do that for me?" She hiccuped.

Arthur let out another hot breath on her ear. It made goosebumps all over her body. "Anything for you, princess."

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

Nyrella has never experienced a storm unlike no other at Storm's End. The windows rattled as thunder shook the foundations of the castle. The droplets of rain were falling fast like rocks hitting against glass. The flashes of lightning were loud, crackling through the darkness of the skies.

She held herself in her arms, observing the rain hitting her window. There was a feast in honor for her and Rhaegar's arrival, but she managed to slip through the cracks of loud drunken yells from men and the clinking sounds of goblets. She wanted to be in her own little space for just a moment.

"Your brother will start to worry about your absence," Arthur's voice echoed through the empty stone hall. He leaned against the wall, keeping his violet eyes on Nyrella's figure.

She scoffed, "then let him. I am not in the mood to talk to him or anyone else's."

"Is this your way of releasing me of my duty?" Arthur jested, pushing himself off the damp wall. Nyrella slightly turned her head at the sound of his armor clattering.

"If that is what you want. I am not holding you back on enjoying the rest of your night with the comfort of wine and ale," Nyrella remained still in front of the window. She hugged herself a little tighter.

Arthur hummed. A silence befallen over the two of them. A part of her was nervous he might take her offer. She did not want him to leave her alone despite what she said.

"I prefer the comfort of your company, Nyrella. Much more than wine and ale," Arthur eventually spoke. He made a stride towards her. His footsteps were the only sound echoing through the empty hall, but if he listened closely, he would hear another sound of Nyrella's pounding heart.

She smiled to herself, "More than wine and ale," she recited back. "That is the first I've ever heard a man confess an unpopular opinion. I wonder what the other would say if they heard you."

Arthur chuckled. Nyrella did not realize how close he was. His hot breath fanned her bare neck like a burning flame. "It is the truth. I am a man that enjoys a drink or two, but not to the point of drunkenness or alcoholism."

"If only Robert could take after your morals," Nyrella turned to face the Kingsguard. It was no secret the heir of the Stormlands was a raging alcoholic, turning to some wild boar as he drank the scarlet liquid of summer wine or the amber fuzz of ale, and sometimes a mix of both. It was another reason she did not want to be at the feast. She knew Robert would want to dance with her, and she did not want his hands on any parts of her body. It made her sick just thinking about the scenario.

"He is much worse than what Rhaegar described him," Arthur came beside her, watching the droplets of rain glide on the glass. "No wonder Jon hates him."

"Arthur," Nyrella spoke. "Could I ask something of you?"

Arthur faced Nyrella's direction, his stare fell on the side of her face. The moonlight hit the highest points of her features, making her appear more striking and hauntingly beautiful. He hummed his response.

"I've noticed recently that many people only desire to tell me half their truths, especially my own brother. I could see in their eyes that they are holding things from me, and I know it comes from good intentions but it still hurts that they cannot trust me like I am something fragile," Nyrella wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "I trust you, Arthur, more than anyone. All I ask for is your promise of your honestly?"

Arthur listened to the desperation in her voice. A desperation that called for the end of her loneliness from being pushed away from the secrets. Arthur let out a breath. He extended his hand towards Nyrella's face, gently grasping her chin with his thumb and index. He turned her face towards him, forcing her to connect her lavender eyes with his. His thumb lightly stroked the softness of her chin.

Nyrella was not in control of her body. She allowed him because she yearned for his touch. The pit of her stomach fluttered like springtime butterflies, her heart soared like a falcon in the sky, and her womanhood burned to be noticed.

"You have my word," his response fanned her face.

She hummed, too speechless to convey with words. Her mouth was slightly open, batting her eyelashes slowly, and her body on edge. She stared at Arthur's face, tracing every feature with her eyes. She licked her own lips when she ended up on his. There were inches between their lips. She wanted a forbidden taste of him.

"Nyrella, Arthur. You two are needed back at the feast," the familiar tone of Jon's voice echoed through the hall, followed by his heavy footsteps.

Arthur released his hold on Nyrella's face, standing straight up as if nothing happened. He took a few steps away from Nyrella, leaving her back into the embrace of the coldness. He turned to greet the Lord of Griffin's Roost with an acknowledging nod as the redhead came closer to the duo. Nyrella wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, taking deep breaths to steady herself.

"Rhaegar's orders?" Arthur asked his friend. The redhead nodded, "He needed a private meeting with Lord Steffon, and he asked for you to come with him."

Arthur gave a firm nodded, "I shall take my leave then. I trust you will deliver Nyrella back to the feast." Without another look back at the Targaryen princess, Arthur strode away into the darkness of the hallway. Nyrella watched him, a piece of her heart with him.

"Come on now, Nyrella," Jon came to her side, gently tugging her elbow. "I know a dozen young lords ready to dance with you."

"Did you see what happened?" Nyrella pulled her elbow away from Jon. There was a defensiveness in her tone.

Jon sighed deeply, "I saw Nyrella."

Nyrella clenched her hands into fist, putting all her disappointed hopes into them, "let's go Jon."

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

At the feast, Nyrella went against her better judgement. She loosened up with cups and cups of goblets, even drinking other people's reds, ambers, and odd alcohol that made her want to breathe fire. Her body moved the entire time since she entered the dining hall. Her feet were sore from the constant dancing with different partners, but she minded the pain for the enjoyment of activities. Her mind was muddled like the nasty coloring of mush dirt outside the castle. Need a way to forget what happened earlier.

Just as Nyrella finished a dance with a lord from a vassal house of house Baratheon, one who she could not hear his name through the loud singing of the minstrel and the booming shouts of spoiled men. At the corner of her of her eye, she spotted a familiar silhouette slip through the wooden doors. She blinked a few times to water her dry eyes, making sure she was not seeing things.

"A dance your Grace," a random lord gestured his hand towards Nyrella's front.

"Another time, my lord. Excuse me," Nyrella pushed his hand away, then squeezed her body through the tight space of bodies until she reached the doors.

A whip of cool air engulfed her warm face. She almost forgot a storm brewed outside the warmth of the dining hall. The corridors had little soul like a few hours ago. Her head switched left and right, searching for the person she eagerly wanted to talk to. She squinted her eyes at the right, making out a sliver of someone's figure through her tainted vision.

Her body wobbled as she walked, dragging her feet behind her as she used the stony walls to support her once a while. She blinked hard, pushing away the sleepiness. If anyone were to see her, they would have thought she was a ghost, haunting these halls with her red beady eyes.

"Nyrella," Myles turned from the window to look at the Valyrian princess slowly walking towards him. He took the last few steps, closing the distance between. He held her arms to steady her as he could smell the strong scent of alcohol on her. "You should be resting," he spoke to her again.

Nyrella did not listen to him, only humming as if she did hear him. She pressed her face against his chest, nuzzling her face into the warmth. "Myles..." her voice was hoarse, but still was soft and mellow to the ears.

Myles chuckled as he gently stroked her silver hair, "You should be resting, Nyrella. Let me take you to your quarters."

"No," Nyrella heard him this time, "I want to stay like this." Her arms wrapped around his torso, pressing her body close to his.

A panic arose in Myles. He was not acclaimed for his closeness with Nyrella. He dreamed of them together like this, but he did not imagine the scenario to be like this. He tried to peel her arms off him, but she only embraced him tighter. He pushed her shoulders back, yet she remained latched to his chest.

"Why are you pushing me away," Nyrella looked up to meet Myles' gaze, "don't you want me?"

Myles shook his head, "I do want you but not like this. I cannot take advantage of you, Nyrella. Please, let me escort you back to your quarters."

Suddenly, Nyrella pulled back. Her arms crossed, and her body turned away from him. "Why do people keep treating me as a child," her voice wavered, a fury of emotional tears threatening to fall.

Myles felt bad, "Nyrella, I'm not treating you as a child. All I'm asking for is to take care of you, put you to bed."

"That is exactly the words you say to children," she snapped at him. A few stray tears fell over her cheeks, "I'm tired of people seeing if I'm not capable of handling hardships."

"I'm sorry," Myles apologized. He reached for her, gently holding her elbow to gestures he's here for her. "I see you not as a child, but as a woman. You must understand, the people hiding things from you, only want to keep you away from hurt. I do not want to see you hurt."

She turned her body, facing him once again. She observed him through her glossy eyes, blurry but still visible enough to notice the way his face harmonized. His eyes soften with worry. The front of his dirty blonde hair fell over his eyes. His head slightly tilted, asking her without words if she was okay. For a split second, she thought Arthur was standing in front of her.

"I will escort you ba—" Myles was cut off as Nyrella pressed her lips with his. A sudden kiss from the princess.

Nyrella closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. Her right hand gripped the nape of his neck, forcefully pressing his face against her's. She moved her mouth, willing for him to return the action. The experience was new, giving her goosebumps all over her body.

But just as she could press her lips further into his, Myles got a hold of her arms and pushed her away. Nyrella blinked at the drunkness, observing the aftermath of the kiss. Myles wore an unreadable expression. His honey brown eyes pooled over her, looking at her as if she could break in his arms. His lips were swollen, red, and wet with spit. Nyrella imagined her lips were the same. More of his hair fell over his eyes.

Nyrella reached her hand out to him, to push the hair back in place but Myles grabbed her hand mid-air. "I'm escorting you back. You need to rest for the night," Myles said. He dropped her hand to her side, and turned her body around so her back was towards him. He held onto her shoulders, steadying her as he guided her walk toward her quarters.

But Nyrellla could not walk anymore. The sleepiness of alcohol took over the remainder of her conscious mind. The dark halls were the last thing she saw before she closed her eyes.

.・゜゜・♛・゜゜・.

"I told you to look after her."

"I did, but I did not know you wanted me to check how much wine she drank."

"She drank more than just wine."

"She will be fine, but I cannot say when she wakes up. The aftermath makes you want to kill yourself."

"I think she is waking up."

Nyrella shifted in her silk covers. The small peek of sunlight through her windows caused her to stir in bed, and the desire to wake up. She forced her eyelids to open from the crust of sleep. Her vision was blurry at first, and tried to adjust to the bright light in the room. Two people stood at both sides of her bed, their fuzzy figures positioned in a way that made it looked as if they were staring down at her.

"Drink this," Rhaegar pushed a goblet for water towards his sister. Nyrella groaned, rubbing her eyes awake.

"What time is it?" She managed to respond as she grabbed the goblet and drank the contents.

Jon, who was on her right, pushed a plate of lemon slices on the side of her bed. "A quarter to two," he told her, "I advise you to also eat the flesh, if you want your headache gone."

That is when Nyrella felt a sharp pain hit her head that made her eyes water. The headache added to the exhaustion she felt and hunger. She grabbed a lemon slice, brought it to her mouth and sucked the juice out. She took deep breaths to help the throbbing of her head.

Rhaegar sat down on her bed, taking his sister's arm in his hands. He sighed and shook his head disappointingly, "you have a bruise on your forearm."

Nyrella peered down on her arm. She saw a circular purple mark that was the size of a small ball. Rhaegar placed his finger on the bruise, putting a light pressure that made Nyrella wince. "Ouch," she pulled her arm away.

"I will get the Maester to do something about your bruise," Rhaegar moved to stand but Nyrella stopped him.

"Please don't," her voice hoarse from the lemon. " I don't want anyone to see in such a disastrous state."

Rhaegar pursed his lips, "Myles warned me it would be bad, but I did not think it would be this bad. You are not allowed to drink in the next feast for the seven hells, Ny. You might make your stomach explode if I don't restrict you."

"Myles..." her voice trailed. The dizziness made her nauseous.

"Yes, Myles. You are lucky. He carried you all the way here when you passed out. He was frantic when he told me early this morning," Rhaegar explained as he took a slice of lemon for himself.

"Myles..." she said again. This time the name of the Knight of Maidenpool brought back memories from last night. His disheveled blonde hair. His worrying pools of honey browns. Their conversation. Lastly, the kiss.

She brought her fingers to her lips, swallowing the feeling down. There was a pit at the bottom of her stomach. A terrible guilt overcame her as she replayed the memory of the forceful sloppy kiss she inflicted on him. It made her sick for what she did to him.

"Nyrella are you listening?" Rhaegar's question pierced through her blank mind. Suddenly, Nyrella lurched to her right, vomiting the contents of last night's supper on the floor and Jon's boots.

Jon yelled out in disgust, jumping away before more warmish green mush poured over his leather boots. "Seven hells! What did you drink last night!"

Rhaegar gathered Nyrella's with his hands as she continued to empty her stomach. "Fetch the Maester, Jon," Rhaegar commanded his friend, "Ny won't be able to keep anything down the whole day."

Nyrella shook her hand in the air, while her other wiped the vomit that lingered at the corners of her mouth. "I'm fine," she told them. She took a deep breath before resting back into her silk covers. "Where is Myles? I need to speak with him."

"He is busy at the moment," Rhaegar answered swiftly. "You need to focus on resting. Jon, I need you to get the Maester."

Jon nodded. His blue eyes took another glance at the sick princess. He pointed his index at her, furrowing his eyebrows, "you owe me a new pair of boots." After saying his peace, Jon slipped through the doors, leaving the dragon siblings alone.

"You do not understand," Nyrella breathed out as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Rhaegar sat beside her, wiping the remnants of vomit around her mouth, "what do you mean, Ny? What don't I understand?"

"Everything, Rhaegar. Don't pretend to care, when you hide things from me," she looked deep into his indigo eyes.

"You are delusional, Ny. Go back to sleep," he averted his gaze. He pulled the cover higher on her body.

Nyrella shook her head, "You know I'm right. What can't you tell me? Why do you push me away like everyone?"

Rhaegar said nothing. The silence filled the room until Jon and the Maester arrived. Nyrella felt herself spiraling into her own thoughts, ready to explode from the frustration. Her mind turns morbid and grim, sometimes thinking to herself that she would have rather perished in the cool depths of the lake then experience constant pain of hurt from the people she cares most about.

#asoiaf #pre asoiaf #house targaryen #targaryen oc #oc female #prince rhaegar #rhaegar targaryen #arthur and nyrella #house dayne #arthur dayne #arthur dayne x oc #arthur dayne fanfic #arthur dayne fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #Storm’s End

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