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peachessndreamss · 4 months

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A Rose by Any Other Name.

Summery : Princes Aegon and Aemond visit Highgarden to broker a marriage contract for the younger brother, while there Aemond finds himself in need of relief and doesn't care who with.

Characters : Aemond Targaryen x f!Tyrell reader

Warnings : Dub Con, abuse of title/rank, oral sex (male receiving), female masturbation, derogatory terms for women, alcohol consumption, cannon divergent, Aegon slander

Word count : 4.5 k

A/N : Sometimes my dreams are the unlimited pasta caste and sometimes they're this, sorry. While English is my first language I'm also profoundly dyslexic, I've done my best to minimise spelling and grammar issues but I'm there still are plenty.

The ground of a Highgarden stable yard was a mess of mud and straw as the eldest Tyrell daughter rode her horse sedately out of the stables and toward the open door of the outer keep. There had been days of fresh spring rains which had soaked the earth, swollen the rivers and brought the Reach alive in a riot of colour, from the azure blue of the sky to the lush green of the grasses in the animal fields and every colour of the rainbow in the food and flowers that grew and ripened under the warming sun.

“Outriders say the Princes are only a few hours away if the good weather holds so don’t go far,” the horse master reminded her.

“I’ll not go far,” she replied with an airy wave of her hand, the route she’d already set on in her mind was several hours over the roughest terrain the estate of Highgarden had to offer and would have her coming home a good while after the Targaryen visitors had arrived. She had no desire to stand in the muddy yard with her siblings to greet the princes when their wheelhouse rolled in.

Her father had started brokering the marriage contract over 9 months before, ravens flew back and forth between Highgarden and Kings Landing as her father bartered, first, with the Hand of the King and then with Queen Alicent. She’d looked through the letters herself, working out just how much she was worth to her father and the Targaryens. Finally the Queen suggested Aegon and Aemond visit the Reach themselves to complete negotiations and hold a formal betrothal.

If she was going to be sold off to Aemond Targaryen like a cow at a market she would at least spend her final day as an unbetrothed woman in the way she enjoyed the most. As she passed under the gate the horse beneath her gave a shiver of anticipation, as they turned toward the East and the low spring sun that dazzled her eyes the horse gave a snort of impatience.

Despite the lack of visibility Lady Tyrell angled the horse toward a small cluster of woods she knew were on the horizon, she clicked her tongue and gave the horse a short squeeze with her thighs. At this the horse broke into a trot and soon they were hidden by the sun and quickly disappearing over the horizon.

In the West, still 10 or so miles from Highgarden, the royal wheelhouse shuddered and bounced over the pitted road, shaking the two occupants and further fraying delicate nerves.

Aegon groaned and gripped at the set beneath him, his head hanging low and his eyes closed tightly as he tried to stop feeling like his head and body were moving in different directions.

“I can’t see why we couldn’t come on dragonback,” Aegon groaned as he fought the urge to vomit again.

Aemond remained in stoney silence, seething at his older brother and the despicable mess he was. The night before they had slept in a tavern on the edge of the Reach. Aegon has drunk his way through an entire barrel of rose wine and was found in the morning asleep in the stable between two sheep. The smell of him, a mix of spilt wine and sheep shit made Aemond's stomach roll.

“Isn't there some high born hole you can marry in Kings Landing?” Aegon complained as the wheelhouse gave a lurch and bumped over the poorly maintained track.

“Cease your incessant whining,” Aemond finally snapped, kicking his brother in the leg.

“Why did I have to come?” Aegon muttered, rubbing at his calf and glaring at Aemond through the lank locks of hair that had fallen over his face.

“I would have paid good money to leave you behind,” Aemond replied coldly.

“Why didn't you?!”.

“Mother insisted,” Aemond shrugged and turned away from his brother, pulling the window cover back with a long finger and watching disinterestedly at the countryside rolling by. If he ended up marrying into the Lords of this land, the first thing he'd insist on was better roads.

The wheelhouse turned sharply and Aegon groaned again, stuffing his cloak into his mouth to fight the nausea. Once it had passed he spit the fabric out, it tasted like sheep and possibly his piss.

“I fucking hope she's worth it,” he hissed.

The lady returned to Highgarden even later than she'd intended and in a far worse state. Her usually sure mount had startled while riding through a wooded area and thrown her off his back into a sticky quagmire, she’d landed mostly on her back and left side, the clothes had become soaked in mud that had been almost impossible to get off when it was wet. She had washed the worst of it off her face and hands in a small stream but her riding clothes remained caked in the muck.

“My Lady, what happened?” The horse master exclaimed as she trotted the beast into the stables.

“He threw me is all, no lasting damage done,” she replied as she dismounted and patted the horse's neck lovingly.

“Are they here?” She asked after a moment of heavy silence.

“Your father's taken them to his solar, he's not happy you weren't here to greet them,”.

She nodded sharply and handed the reins of the horse over to a stableboy.

“Plenty of hay, water and a few of those early golden apples,” she instructed before turning and heading into the yard.

She entered the building through a servants door, knowing she could make a path between there and her own rooms that wouldn't put her anywhere near her father's solar. She could be washed and changed and ready to entertain Princes long before dinner was served.

She stepped into a small anteroom off the kitchens where she knew she could take off her ruined riding gear, stripping down to her small clothes and riding boots, she left everything in a pile, making a note to tell her maidservant about it as soon as she saw the woman. She couldn't well wander the halls of Highgarden in her shift so she took a clean servants dress from the stack in the corner and pulled the shapeless linen over her head, tying it around the middle with a belt of braided cord. She splashed icy water on her face and did her best to tuck any loose hairs back into their braid before setting off for her rooms.

She'd almost made it back to her own chambers when a voice from behind spoke.

“Girl, come here,” it commanded and she stopped in her tracks.

No one in her father's household would speak to her like that, even if she was dressed as a servant. She turned slowly, the blood racing to her face when she looked at Aemond Targaryen for the first time.

He was still dressed for travel, with black leather trousers and a similarly hardy jacket with a high collar. The patch over his eye hid most of the damage but the deep red scar extended up his forehead and down his cheek, the only mark she could see on his otherwise glass clear skin. There was no flicker of recognition on his face, he obviously had no idea who he was speaking to.

“Come here,” he ordered again when she'd not moved toward him.

She opened her mouth to protest, to ask him who he thought he was speaking to but she stopped, closing her mouth and moving toward him. If she was going to marry this man she wanted to know what type of man he was and how better to learn than to see how he treated servants.

As she moved toward him she kept her eyes downcast, despite being desperate to look at his face in greater detail.

“What can I do for you, my Prince?” She asked meekly.

“Come with me,” he replied bluntly and turned, striding down the wide and brightly lit corridor toward the rooms that had been prepared for the two visiting royals.

At the door to his room he pushed it open and stepped back to allow her inside first before following and closing the door tightly behind the two of them. The sound of the latch clicking into place made her heart pound, she'd never been alone with a man before, she'd always been accompanied by her ladies or sisters but now she was alone in the guest wing behind a closed door.

She stood in the centre of the main room, a fire burned merrily in the grate and the Prince’s trunk stood open at the foot of the bed. She looked up at him from under her lashes and caught sight of his deep indigo eye watching her.

“Wh-what can I do for you?” She asked again, he'd catch on pretty quickly she wasn't part of the serving staff if he asked her to do much more than pour a glass of wine.

“I'm in need of some relief,” he said softly, his left hand moving instinctively toward the laced fount of his trousers and his fingers twitched.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, her eyes following the movement of his hand before snapping back to his face.

“I don't understand your meaning, my Prince,” she said softly, although she was fairly certain she did.

She had been raised her entire life in the safety and beauty of Highgarden, her innocence protected at all costs and her exposure to men limited as far as possible, but she still knew what men and women did together in the privacy of their bed chambers.

“The journey here was long and difficult and my brother is a terrible travelling companion, so before I meet with your sweet lady this evening and make dull small talk for hours I need you to get on your knees, open your mouth and suck my cock,”.

A shiver crawled across her body, she'd never been spoken to like that before and after the initial shock of his crass words she found herself excited by them. But while his words were exciting the reality of what he wanted was frightening, she could tell him who she really was and face the consequences of running around dressed as a servant and tricking a prince or she could do what he asked and face any additional consequences of sucking his cock and having to make dull small talk with him later.

“Did you hear me?” He demanded, his voice harsher now, “get on your knees, I've got no time for your wide-eyed innocent act,”.

“But, my Prince, I've never-,”.

He cut her off mid-sentence, anger flashing across his face.

“Get on your knees,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

The anger on his face and in his voice sent a thrill up and down her spine, making the tips of her toes and fingers tingle with anticipation.

Slowly she lowered herself to her knees, the thin and rough fabric of the dress rubbed uncomfortably on her knees and the cold of the stone floor seemed to soak into her skin like water.

“So you do understand, stupid little slut,” he muttered, moving toward her while unfastening the laces of his breeches.

She watched with wide eyes as he pulled his cock free from the fabric of his trousers and pumped his hand up and down the thick muscle. By instinct her mouth filled with saliva and she felt a rush of wetness and heat between her thighs.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip before doing as she'd been told, parting her lips and teeth as he came to stand directly in front of her, the head of his cock now bobbing directly in her eye line. There was a bead of clear fluid slipping from the thin slit at the head, she fought the urge to lean toward and lick it up.

The head of his cock was a dark red colour, completely in opposition to the alabaster white skin of his hands, he wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed.

“Keep it open,” he said as he angled the shaft toward her lips.

This was her last opportunity, the very last second she could back out, tell him who she was, run screaming from the room but instead she relaxed her jaw a little and allowed him to push the head of his cock into her waiting mouth.

His own mouth dropped open in a soft moan as the wet heat of her mouth enveloped his aching cock. He pushed his hips forward, forcing as much of himself between her lips as she could take, the soft, slick slide of her tongue on the underside of his shaft made his toes curl up in his boots.

Her hands went to the front of his thighs and she braced her open palms against the leather, her fingers moulding to the shape of his lithe legs. He could feel the heat from her hands and the gentle curl of her fingertips through the fabric of his breeches.

He drew back a little, feeling the warm suck of her soft mouth, he pushed one hand into the soft tangle of her hair and gripped.

“That's it,” he breathed as he pushed forward again, “take it,”.

Holding her head steady he pumped his cock between her lips, very quickly he was soaked from root to tip with her saliva and he watched transfixed as it slipped down her chin and wetted the rough fabric of her dress.

Tears were forming in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks as he fucked her mouth. The musky and masculine smell of him filled her nose as the salty taste of his bare skin on her tongue made her head spin.

Part of her was disgusted, she was a lady and possibly a future princess but she was on her knees getting her mouth fucked bya man who thought she was a servant. A much larger part of her thought this was the most erotic thing that could ever happen, her cunt was pulsing with the rapid beat of her heart, she wanted nothing more than to shove her fingers between her legs and bring herself to completion, or even better, take Aemond’s fingers and use them.

“You cock hungry little slut,” he hissed as he forced his cock deeper than any thrust before.

She choked, feeling her body suddenly gag at the intrusion so deep into her mouth. She tore herself away from him, gasping for breath. There was pain where he was clinging onto her hair, pulling it hard between his lean fingers.

“Too much for the little whore?” He sneered, cold laughter on his beautiful face.

She nodded as he brought the hand that wasn't still tangled in her hair to her cheek and brushed away her tears.

“Finish me off and you'll be free to go,” he said, pulling her back to him and pressing the head of his cock against her lips.

She opened her mouth willingly and allowed him to continue, pumping faster but not as deeply as before, he began to pant and groan at every pass of her wet lips.

“Fucking take it,” he panted, “take it, take it,”.

With a final shuddering, stuttering thrust she felt his cock kick in her mouth before her tongue was flooded with salty, bitter fluid. She kept her mouth closed around his shaft as his seed escaped between her lips and dripped onto her chest.

“Swallow it,” he whispered, unable to take his gaze from her dripping mouth.

He watched as her throat bobbed and she swallowed his remaining seed before leaning back and gazing up at him. Her cheeks were marked with the tracks of her tears and her mouth and chin were wet with his spend and her own spit. The tip of her tongue appeared between her lips and gathered a drop of him before disappearing again between her used lips.

Aemond's cock was now rapidly softening and she watched with fascination as the long, thick muscle seemed to retreat back toward his body, the hot, round head disappearing under a hood of skin.

He tucked his cock back into his breeches before reaching down and brushing his thumb across her lips, his touch surprisingly tender.

“You can go,” he said bluntly before stepping away from her and turning his back.

She sprang to her feet and dashed to the bedroom door, yanking it open and not bothering to close it behind herself as she raced toward the sanctuary of her own rooms. The soles of her riding boots seemed to boom on the hard stone floor and she believed as if everyone in the castle would hear her desperate escape.

Although she kept her head down and didn't acknowledge anyone she passed she felt as if she'd been branded across the face with the awful names he'd called her. Surely everyone she passed knew what she'd just been doing.

Her heart was thundering and her cunt pounding, the sensations she'd never felt before were making her head spin. Once she was in the safety of her own room she threw herself onto the bed and drove her fingers between the slick lips of her cunt with an urgency she'd never known. She bit into the feather pillow as she brought herself to orgasm within moments of touching the throbbing and engorged pearl between her legs.

She lay panting on the bed, the smell of him still clinging to her like perfume, now mixing with the smell of her own arousal.

Her ears still burned with the names he'd called her, she should feel humiliated and insulted but instead she longed to hear those names again. She longed to taste his cock again and then to explore his body, to take time to undress him, observe him and touch him. She wanted him to do the same with her, call her names, strip her naked and explore her virgin body without restraint.

When her maidservant arrived to get her dressed for dinner she could barely lift her head from the bed. She wanted nothing more than to hide under the sheets and touch herself again and again while images of the prince flashed through her mind.

She was scrubbed clean in the bath, her hair washed and treated with sweet smelling oils. Her maidservant noted the bruises where she'd been thrown by her horse, but the marks on her knees were harder to explain away.

She was dressed in a gold and green gown embroidered with roses, the usual soft cotton and silk felt like sand abrading her skin. She insisted her hair be styled in the same way it had been when she went riding, in case the Prince didn't recognise the lady he was forced to make small talk with.

She waited by the door to the great hall, the princes had been announced and seated, then her father and his wife, her siblings next and finally it was her turn. Her name was called and she stepped into the hall. The room was full of the great and good of the Reach sitting on the tables that filled the room, at the top table, positioned above the others on a dais sat her family and Prince Aegon and Aemond.

She looked directly at Prince Aemond as she walked toward the top table. There was a flicker of recognition followed by a moment of complete horror before he took back control of his face, a mask of neutral passiveness dropping over his features. She took her seat between the prince and her young sister.

“My Lady,” he greeted softly.

“Prince Aemond,” she replied.

“Prince Aegon,” she added, leaning around Aemond to address his brother who only nodded in acknowledgement, he was swaying gently in his seat and his eyes were glazed over.

Aemond could have throttled his older brother for being drunk before the meal had been served.

“It's a pleasure to meet you my Lady,” Aemond said softly, drawing her attention back to him.

“The pleasure is all mine,” she replied politely, “but I do hope my small talk doesn't bore you,” she added, dropping her voice so only he could hear. She enjoyed the look of mild panic that crossed his face before she turned to speak with her sister.

As the food was served the noise levels in the hall increased and she felt able to return to speaking with Aemond without being overheard.

“How have you found Highgarden so far?” She asked.

“Most accommodating,” he replied, taking a sip of rose wine.

“Please forgive me if this question is indelicate,” she started, running the tips of her fingers up and down the thin stem of her wine glass, “if we're to marry, do you intend on taking your pleasure with the servants or your wife?”.

The hand holding Aemond's wine goblet visibly shook before he placed it back on the table. He cleared his throat and turned his eye to the woman beside him.

“I would take my pleasure nowhere but my wife, and she would take a great deal of pleasure with me,”.

“Because if I were your wife and found you'd been sticking your prick in the serving girls I'd bite it off,” she said as softly as possible.

Aemond cleared his throat again and gave a small inclination of his head.

“Understood, my Lady,”.

After the meal there was music and dancing. As expected of her, she danced with her father and her brothers. She'd expected to have to dance with Prince Aegon as well but he was too drunk to stand straight let alone follow the steps. Aemond, on the other hand, was everything a prince should be, dancing with her step mother and sisters before asking her to dance.

The music changed to a fast paced peasant tune that meant they needed to dance in a small circle of others before being paired off. Once alone and moving around the floor they were able to speak again.

“I just want you to know,” she started as she stepped around him, before coming to face him, their toes almost touching, she looked up at him, taking in the curve of his lips and a sharp shape of his chin, “the way you spoke to me, when you thought I was a serving girl made my cunt ache,”.

She went to twist away from him to continue the dance with the man beside him but he caught her hand and held her, letting her twirl around him again. The line of dancers they were part of muttered and tutted as they scrambled to sort themselves without the Prince and his lady.

When they were face to face again Aemond held her still, placing his hands on her waist.

“When you are my wife, it will be my utmost honour to make your cunt ache every day,” he breathed before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on her cheek before adding “my slut,”.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine and settled deep in her belly, making her cunt throb again. If she really was a slut she could drag him away somewhere quiet and make him repay her in kind for earlier but she was a lady, and he was prince and they were in a room full of gossiping courtiers.

“Is that a formal proposal?” She asked as he straightened.

“I think it is,” he replied, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips.

“Then I accept,” she said, before twisting around him again in time with the music.

The other dancers had moved on, leaving the two of them in their own space on the floor, undisturbed by anyone else. The swirling dancers around them made it feel like they were the only two people in the room, trapped by a colourful snow storm.

Aemond didn't care that he wasn't in a position to officially offer marriage to her yet, his meeting with her father hadn't straightened out all the details but suddenly the dowry, the lands and the titles of their future children didn't matter anymore, these details were nothing compared to how badly he wanted to take her to wife.

The song ended in a final flourish and the dancers clapped and called out requests for the next piece of music.

“Another dance? I certainly prefer it to small talk,” she teased with a smile as the music started again and the dancers around them took their places.

“And is there something else you’d enjoy even more than dancing?” he asked before bowing to her and offering her his hand.

Her neck flushed with heat as she took his hand and the two of them moved in a slow circle.

“There are many things I enjoy more than dancing, my Prince, and I suspect you’ll show me a great many more,”

For the rest of the night Prince Aemond danced with no one else and while it certainly earned some raised eyebrows from the more modest members of the Highgarden court neither Lady Tyrell or Aemond could bring themselves to care. They only had eyes for one another and as they danced the rest of the world seemed to melt away.

At the top table Lord Tyrell watched his daughter and the prince with great interest. He was thinking he might have saved himself 9 months of bartering, letter writing and hand wringing if he’d just invited the prince to visit in the first instance.

“They make a fair couple, don’t they?” his lady wife asked from beside him.

“When I met with him this afternoon I’d never have believed he could be so taken with her,” Lord Tyrell said, “he was so cold I didn’t think he could look at someone with anything other than contempt but she seems to have won him over,”.

It was the small hour of the next morning by the time the music and dancing ended. Lord Tyrell and his lady had gone to bed hours before but the revelry had continued. Prince Aegon had staggered from the table and made toward a door at the side of the hall, he’d only made it through the door before tripping on his feet, falling on his face and deciding to stay there.

As the musicians played their final notes prince Aemond kissed the back of his lady’s hand, looking up at her and smiling.

“Until we meet again, my Lady,” he said softly, she opened her mouth to reply but he pulled her toward him, bringing his cheek to hers, his lips touching the shell of her ear, “my whore,”.

additional A/N : this has the potential for a part two if anyone's interested? Just putting it out there, letting the universe know.

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comic-art-showcase · 3 months

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Beta Ray Bill by Tyrell Cannon

#tyrell cannon #beta ray bill #marvel

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whenthesnowfelloverwinterfell · 10 months

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Vatic - Chapter IV " One Day "

Series Description : The youngest daughter of King Viserys and Queen Alicent grows up split between the two sides of her family. With dreams plaguing her sleep of people she does not know, and a war looming ahead of her. She will be forced to choose between the two sides of her family, between the love for her brother, and the loyalty for her sister.

Chapter Description : Y/n Targaryen comforts her brother after their brother and nephews play a cruel joke on him in the Dragonpit.

Warnings : none in this chapter

Pairing : eventual Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader ( cannon typical targcest idk what to tell you )

Word Count : 2.2k

“It will happen to you sooner than you may think, little sister,” Rhaenyra’s voice was always a welcomed sound to Y/n, though Aemond seemed disinterested in their sister’s presence in the sitting area.

It was an area of the family living quarters that was usually only frequented by Aemond and Y/n. The loveseats and lounges covered with blankets and pillows that had been lazily strewn about. Candles lit to give the room light in the very early hours of the morning when the sun had yet to rise. The two Targaryen children had been restless, and had chosen to come to their favorite seating area in the whole castle. There were many someone could have their choice of, but the two children had always been rather fond of this one, overlooking Blackwater Bay, where they could look out and see the ships that came and went. Where they would play games and try to guess where the ship was going, and what they had on board. A game that Y/n had once heard of in a dream many years ago, and decided she wanted to play it.

Tonight however, Rhaenyra had also been restless, and had found her younger half siblings sitting quietly, Aemond with a large book in his lap, and Y/n with her needlework, and Rhaenyra had taken her spot comfortably next to her sister. Though, from Y/n’s perspective, Rhaenyra never seemed to be too comfortable at all anymore. ‘The babe is growing, little sister, she makes it hard for me to move about as I wish.’ is what Rhaenyra would always say whenever Y/n made her concerns known to her older sister.

“What do you mean?” Y/n questioned as she continued her needlework, trying her best to embroider the material with a gold rose. Lord and Lady Tyrell had visited court not long ago, and their ornate embroidery on their clothing, clearly identifying them as the Tyrells had inspired her in her needlework, and well, the Tyrell rose was far easier to embroider than the Targaryen three headed dragon.

“Having a babe of your own.” Rhaenyra said it so casually that both Y/n and Aemond looked at her puzzled. Y/n was still only nine, she wouldn’t be having a child for many years to come. Math wasn’t exactly Y/n’s strong suit, however she knew that her own mother had Aegon when she was six and ten years of age. That was an eternity away for the young princess. “I feel as though one day I was only just a child of my own, and then I blinked and I was holding Jace after he was born.” She went on to explain.

Though, it still didn’t make any sense to Y/n. How could years pass so quickly for someone? Y/n decided that her sister was only exaggerating. That it truly wasn’t such. That time would forever pass as it in her whole nine years of life. Adults frequently said things that were untrue, or that were half truths. This must have been one of them.

“The babe is due any day now, according to the maesters. . . I’ll be staying in our wing of the Keep until the babe arrives.” by our, Rhaenyra had meant her, Laenor, and her sons’ wing of the keep. Y/n had known that Rhaenyra would take her rest before the babe was to arrive, but the prospect of not seeing her sister wandering the halls throughout the day disappointed her nevertheless. “Promise me, you will keep up with your archery lessons? Theobrand would be very upset if you let your mother get her way.” Y/n knew it was just Rhaenyra teasing her, but she could sense an underlying tone to her jest.

Y/n had begun to catch onto the distaste her mother and her sister had for one another, as well as the distaste her brothers seemed to have for their nephews, though that distaste seemed to be a majority from Aemond. Though, she didn’t know if she could blame him. She knew of the cruel jokes they made out of her beloved older brother. They never gave him reprieve. He was the only one out of the boys who didn’t have a dragon, and they never let him forget it. Y/n wasn’t so slow to be unaware of the fact that Aemond found comfort with her. She was his only friend in the keep, and for that as well, the boys never let him forget it.

It was clear to Y/n the rivalry between the two was festering in a negative light more so than the previous years of her life. With the way Rhaenyra made vaguely snide comments about Alicent even with Y/n with her, and the way that Alicent would speak in hushed whispers to her maids with her children in the room about Jacaerys and Lucerys being bastards sired by Harwin Strong, Y/n would hear as Aegon and Aemond whispered to each other at the dining table morning and evening, the word ‘bastard’ scarecly above that of a murmer, but she could always hear it.

Y/n was conflicted. She loved her mother, and wished to please her. She wore the colors she wished, and the exact dresses she wanted, she wore her hair the way Alicent liked, and did a majority of what made her mother happy, but she also loved her sister. And she knew her sister loved her, despite her indifference to the rest of their siblings.

Though, those words stayed in Y/n’s mind two weeks later, as she sat on the opposite side of the room from Helaena and her mother, once more, She had her needle work in hand, but this time, she was attempting the three headed dragon of house Targaryen, all the while, Helaena had her collection of bugs out. It was clear to Y/n, by the conversation, that their lady mother was dreadfully bored of being shown the insects, but at least Helaena was actually speaking. Y/n had been silent since she heard of the arrival of her newborn nephew. She and Rhaenyra both had hoped for a girl.

Y/n was unaware as to why she was so disappointed by the news, yet at the same time, relieved. It didn’t make sense. She’d wished to have a niece, but had instead a nephew was yet again sired. She didn’t understand her emotions to the situation.

Aemond was always the one better with his words. Had he been with her with one of his books the same thickness as Y/n’s own head instead of at the dragonpit, he could have helped her better understand the conflict.

“This one has 60 rings. . .” Helaena spoke, all the while Y/n kept accidentally pricing her finger tips with a needle. She hated needle work the more she thought about it. “And two pairs of legs on each. That’s 240.”

A brief silence occurred before their mother replied; “Yes, it is.”

“It has eyes. . . though, I don’t believe it can see”

“And why is that so, do you think?”

Alicent frequently had these conversations with Helaena. Trying to get to better know her by indulging her. It Y/n understood that out of the children, she and Aemond were the easiest for their mother to understand. Aegon was what many of the maids whispered and spoke of as a ‘drunk letcher.’ with every sense of ‘depravity’ that even the ladies on the street of silk couldn’t satiate his appetite. Y/n didn’t understand exactly what it was that Aegon had an appetite for, but she knew it was something her mother disapproved of. Helaena was odd, quiet, and happy to remain on the ground playing with multi-legged insects all day rather than speak to other people. Aemond and Y/n were the most sociable with their mother. The only two who she truly seemed to somewhat like. Daeron was always off doing something.

“It is beyond our understanding.”

“I suppose you’re right. Some things just are.”

That was a phrase that was familiar to Y/n. When she had asked her mother why Aegon and Helaena were to wed when the faith of the seven forbade incest, and why she were to allow it when she was so devoted to her faith. ‘Some things just are, darling’

It had been a non-answer to the question.

The door to the room opened, and Y/n’s eyes flickered over to the entry as a guard strode in, holding Aemond’s wrist. He was covered in dirt and soot. His lightly padded gambeson with a popped thread on the shoulder. Y/n stood to her feet within a moment, the needle work forgotten as their mother stood to her feet as well.

“Aemond,” She called going over to him. “What have you done?” “He did it again.”

Both Alicent and Y/n knew what it meant when she said it. He went down into the depths of the dragon pit yet again. It always worried Y/n when he did such things. His dseparation to have a dragon was going to eat at him, and it made him do reckless things that their mother would scold him for.

“After how many times you’ve been warned, must have you confined to your chambers?!” their mother demanded, raising her voice at him.

“They made me do it!” He defended, raising his voice as a defense, to get her to listen to him.

“As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding,” Y/n had always been heavily in tune with the fact that her mother disliked a majority of things ‘Targaryen’ and that included dragons, despite it being part of Targaryen family history, tradition. Aemond was obsessed with them because he had to constantly be around the other boys training their own dragons whose eggs had been laid in the cradle with them, while Aemond’s had never hatched, and as a result, he had none to train. Helaena had claimed Dreamfyre when she was young, and had begun riding her by the time was eleven, much to Alicent’s dismay. But Y/n stayed away from the dragons, and the dragon pits, as her mother’s wish.

“They gave me a pig!” Aemond yelled as their mother grabbed his shoulders firmly, holding him still.

“A what?”

“They said they had a dragon for me,” He began, while Helaena had lost interest in what their brother had just experiences and was instead focused back on the bug that was crawling on her hands. “But it was a pig.” Y/n began a slow approach to her mother and brother.

“You will have a dragon one day. “ Alicent tried to comfort.

“He’ll have to close an eye.” Helaena mumbled to her insect.

“I know it.” Their mother continued. As Y/n finally reached the two, she grabbed Aemond’s hand and held it tightly within her own.

She hated to see him this way. Defeated and resigned to the treatment of their brother and nephews. He was always sensitive to how others treated him, and not being excepted by the other boys? It was always clear to Y/n how it upset and affected him.

Their mother pulled him in for a hug, but Aemond and Y/n remained with hands interlocked.

It was never fair to her. How Aegon and their nephews always got away with their treatment, but if Aemond were to retaliate? He’d get into trouble.

“I shall handle this.” Their mother spoke, pulling away from Aemond, placing both hands on the sides of his face and kissing his forehead before stepping away. “I shall speak to your father.” And with that, their mother had left the three children in the room with the guard alone, and Y/n had quickly wrapped her arms around her brother, her chin resting on his shoulder. He had in turn, tightly encaptured her frame between his arms, squeezing her close to him, hiding his face in her shoulders.

“Mother’s right,” Y/n spoke softly. She could smell the dragonpit stench clinging to him like a young child would cling to their mother’s skirts during their first excursion at court, being surrounded by tall and intimidating knights, and lords, dragons frequently seen overhead as someone from the Targaryen family decided to take flight over King’s Landing. But much like the scent clung to him, her sweet brother clung to the idea of dragons.

The books he read to her when they slept in the same bed were more oft than not about dragons and their lords. Stories about Old Valyria, the blood magic, and the theories of how the Doom occurred. He was fascinated with all things Valyrian. He was trying to live the life their ancestors once lived hundreds of years ago. When dragons were always the size of Belarion the Black Dread and there more dragons than you could count. That was no longer the case.

Y/n had never been overtly interested in the idea of claiming a dragon. she had excepted that the powder blue dragon egg that had been put with her in her cradle was never going to hatch, and that she would be without a dragon. She saw no need for seeking one out. Especially when most dragons had already been claimed. Her mother never liked her going to the dragon pit anyway, and the majority of available dragons, were wild, and loose on Dragonstone.

“You will have a dragon one day, brother. I’m sure of it.”

At that, Aemond squeezed her just a little tighter, comfortably resting his head on her shoulder.

Add yourself to the taglist !!

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @winxschester

#game of thrones fic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #house of the dragon fic

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hchollym · 10 months

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I saw your post about asoiaf character headcanons https://www.tumblr.com/hchollym/656295257177276416/who-are-some-of-your-head-cannons-for-characters and I’m begging for more Willas Tyrell headcanons! Anything you have! What is he into? You said he makes nerdy jokes. Whats his personality like?

How does he feel about the whole “potentially engaged to Sansa thing” and how did he feel when she was forced to marry Tyrion? (I cant imagine he would have been in love w her immediately if they married, bc she is 13 (3 years younger than Margery) and he is at least in his 24-27ish in current book canon)

It's been a while since I got an asoiaf ask, so this was fun! 😃

I'm sorry it took so long to respond though. 🙁

More Willas Tyrell Headcanons:

-He has brown curly hair and hazel eyes.

-He's definitely an introvert. He's very kind and genuine, and some people are drawn to that (like Oberyn), but he's not naturally charming or assertive, so he finds social situations a little more difficult to navigate.

-He enjoys astronomy (since he likes looking at the stars) and drawing/painting (since he drew pictures for Margaery when she was little).

-He's not great at expressing his feelings. He knows how to - he's very self-aware - but he has a tendency to hide his insecurities/sadness and keep things inside, because he already feels physically vulnerable due to his leg, and he's afraid to be emotionally vulnerable too.

-He loves all animals (including cats and dogs), and he always names them after historical figures.

-He can never admit it out loud (because he's a Tyrell), but he gets tired of the smell/sight of roses (they have far too strong of a floral scent). Because of this, he grows his own little garden of Iris Blue Rhythms (but he has it fenced off because they're toxic to dogs). These flowers are a pretty blue and lemon-scented (which is actually his favorite scent, because he loves how fresh it smells).

Headcanons About Willas' Thoughts on Sansa:

-I'm not sure he even knew about the plan until after it was ruined. Mace didn't know, and Olenna may very well have kept that secret close to her chest until after she arrived in King's Landing.

-Once he found out, he was definitely concerned by her age. Even by Westeros' standards, Sansa was still young for marriage, and since she was three years younger than Margaery (his baby sister), he saw her as a child.

-He protested an immediate wedding and argued for a long betrothal, and he only backed down when Margaery told him about the abuse Sansa suffered at Joffrey's hands. At that point, he realized that marrying her quickly was the only way to protect her, and he agreed because it was the chivalrous thing to do.

-He was horrified when he found out that she was married to Tyrion, because 1. Her age was still a factor, and he assumed that Tyrion would consummate the marriage; 2. Tyrion was a part of the family that killed Sansa's father, and he knew that would be traumatizing for her, especially because it meant that she would be stuck around the Lannisters for the rest of her life; and 3. He knew Sansa imagined a much "better" husband than a dwarf (and by Westeros' tradition, it was honestly an insult to marry her to Tyrion).

-He was also disappointed because he knew that Sansa was the best political match he could ever make, and even if she never loved him, he thought that she would at least enjoy Highgarden & he would keep her safe.

Thanks for the ask! 😊

#ask me #callmekohaii #willas tyrell #sansa x willas #my headcanons #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #my thoughts #my opinion

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poorshadowspaintedqueens · 1 year

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Do you think renly would’ve ever married? And if so how do you think too? For instance, if he was born a decade prior to his 277 making him 30-31 in cannon, do you think he’d still be unmarried?

The World of Ice and Fire actually included a story of a Targaryen prince who had more than a few things in common with Renly Baratheon. This was the youngest son of King Aegon V and Black Betha Blackwood, named Daeron. As part of Aegon's plan to marry his children into various noble families, he was betrothed to Olenna Redwyne and his sister Shaera to Luthor Tyrell. Owing to various Targaryen problems, none of these betrothals worked out, including Daeron's.

Corrupted by the example of his brothers, even King Aegon's youngest son Prince Daeron vexed his father in like manner. Though berothed to Lady Olenna Redwyne of the Arbor when both of them were nine, Prince Daeron repudiated the match in 246 AC, when he was eighteen...though in his case, there appears to have been no other woman, for Daeron remained unwed throughout the remainder of his short life. A born soldier who rejoiced in tournament and battle, he preferred the companionship of Ser Jerremy Norridge, a dashing young knight who had been with the prince since the two of them were squires together at Highgarden. (109)

(Note: I wrote fic about Olenna during this period where Daeron features prominently, so I have definite headcanons.)

Much like Laenor Velaryon and Joffrey Lonmouth (and later Qarl Correy) in the Dance era, Daeron is a quickly sketched out archetype of the young tragic gay knight who is beloved but unattainable. If circumstances had fallen out differently, I imagine Renly and Loras might have ended up doing similarly.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #renly baratheon #loras tyrell #daeron targaryen #jeremy norridge #laenor velaryon

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smillingcartoonist · 8 months

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The Schlub 1 #

#the schlub #ryan stegman #kenny porter #tyrell cannon

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maidragoste · 1 year

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Let me start straightaway with some fangirling over the Sea Dragon universe!! I love how complex characters and situations are there, thank you for writing such an absorbing and gripping story! Would you mind if I share some headcanons of the Sea Dragon? More like lets-add-some-chaotic-nordlings-to-the-plot

The greens and the blacks are yet to gat as many banners and allies as possible. And there are two particular houses whose loyalty is questionable, the Starks and the Baratheons. (Tully were green by the beginning in the canon(and with the Velaryon!reader are likey to be loyal to the greens), Tyrells strictly refused to get involved (but their vassals were both green and black), Arryn were black, and Lannisters remain green)

The easiest and most efficient way is to marry Targaryen&Velaryon offsprings to these houses. Particularly, Alyn (who is unlikely to marry Baela due to their mutual feelings) and Aemond. Daeron is cannonically too young for this.

Since Baratheons are a house of more importance for the Dance, the Greens might want to betroth Alyn to one of the daughters of Borros (cause he is the rightful heir of Harrenhol and the first son, Borros can be easily bribed by this). As for the Starks, they don't have unwed legitimate daughters, but Cregan might have such a cousin of house Manderly (I just ADORE the bookish version of Manderly who truly DO remember their roots and are not afraid to play double agents to save their sovereign, the Starks).

It also helps that the Manderly lady and Aemond share similar interests and were kind childhood friends. ALSO since Manderly are rich due to the sea trading, the girl can find some common ground with the Velaryon!reader who would basically be that sneaky yet lovely second mother tells her future daughter in law all the embarassing stories about her son (we stan happy Velaryon/Strong/Targaryen greens in this house)

HOWEEEEVER, the black might want to interfere and talk Cregan into marrying her off to one of Nyra's sons since there was a long forgotten Targaryen/Manderly contract (to marry their childre, at the time of Jahaerys and Alyssane) that was signed but never fulfilled because of the Targ princess death +++++ the canon Cregan is a man of honour and complies with the terms of various agreements

Yet Manderly are leaning green. Cause 1) Velaryons are also sea people who are good to deal with (imagine two biggest Westerosi fleets together!!!); 2) Manderly are canonnicaly a very close family who seemingly love their kin and respect their children's wishes; 3) The mother of our young lady Manderly is a sarcastic and fierce Olenna-and-Rhaenys-style woman who can easily see through Nyra and Daemon's demeanor

And don't forget Aemond who is still pretty vicious and fond of his potential bride (+ angry at the Nyra's boys)..........

Aaaaand that's another turn in the renewed Dance war. I know that probably this mini-plot doesn't correlate with your vision of the story, and in this case just ignor it please!! Didn't mean to disrespect you in any way. Thanks again for the Sea Dragon!!!

hi, anon, omg I'm glad you like how I write the characters, I confess that sometimes I'm scared to write flat characters so I'm very relieved to read your opinion 🥰🥰

I'm always glad to read readers' headcanons. Don't worry, I don't feel like you disrespected me, always feel free to share your thoughts with me. I will only tell you which things are likely to happen and which others are not 😊

1) I find it funny that you say that Daeron is too young to get married when he is older than Alyn and Aethan but I get your point. I confess that first I thought of Alyn marrying one of Borros's daughters, because this makes more political sense, but then some people started proposing that Alyn get engaged to Baela and now I only think of them together. Plus imagine the disaster if Reader breaks off the engagement and Alyn gets engaged to the Baraheon girl only to end up marrying Baela anyway. Reader prefers to save herself from enduring an angry Borros and propose a marriage between one of his daughters and Daeron.

2) I like the idea of Manderly supporting the greens and Aemond committing to a Manderly girl but I confess that I'm afraid of not knowing how to handle it 🤡🤡, I don't see myself capable of it because I haven't read the books so I don't know much about that family and besides now there are too many characters in the story. If I were to do that plot it would be very high. I can see Reader talking to the Manderlys from what you tell me, but I feel like she would be more focused on the war. Yes, the green ones use more fleets but Reader would be thinking more about how to fight Rhaenyra and Daemon. Yes, having allies is important but let's face it probably the most important battles end up being in the skies above the dragons.

Anyway, I really enjoyed reading your headcanons and I hope my answer didn't bother you . Thank you very much for writing to me, if you ever write to me again you can choose an emoji so I can identify you 😋

I hope you are well anon and thanks again for writing to me 🥰💕💕

#lu speaks #the sea dragon the clubfoot and the green queen #alyn strong #baela targaryen #velaryon reader #anon ask #anon <3 #thanks for the ask!#ask me anything

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