#viserys/aemma is not a good pair

[reginarubie]

For the brutally honest ship opinion, what do you think of Viserys/Aemma? Fandom has romanticized them so much (and so has the show), but I just can't get over the fact that Aemma begged him to stop, crying that she doesn't want to die, while Viserys cut her in two for his male heir. She also mentioned that she doesn't want to go through the ordeal of pregnancy again, implying reproductive abuse that Viserys repeated with Allicent. Fandom is determined to make him Ned 2.0, but I don't see it

Ciao nonny,

For my brutally honest opinion about Aemma/Viserys…

… people really romanticise them so much? I mean the scene about her death is on the top three of unwatchable/unreadable scenes of the whole franchise (GoT and HotD). It’s up there with Talisa’s death in GoT and the mention of the way Elia was killed in asoiaf and the grief and vengeance Oberyn and Doran still feel for it.

Or maybe I am just overly sensitive over it because I am a woman and seeing people killing a babe in the womb and the mother or opening a woman to get the child out of her… it was crude and raw and whilst plausible of the time and characters is in my opinion unwatchable and kinds of make unredeemable the men involved.

Aemma begged for her life, and whilst it’s true she might have died anyway and this way the babe would have a chance, for how little… she pleaded, she begged him, told him she wanted to live, and he ignored that to get his son.

He didn’t even comfort her properly. He just ignored her fear, her pain and her terror. The whole exchange they have before the birth also enlightens us to the sheer abuse Aemma suffered and accepted because they taught her it was her duty to give him male heirs (‘the queen was ever mindful of her duty’)

The same abuse, but worsened, that Alicent suffered. Because not only she suffers that very same abuse, but she manages to give him three sons. All healthy and living through infanthood and into adulthood. She does her duty, as a wife and mother and still Viserys overlooks the sons she gave him in favour of Rhaenyra.

She suffers that abuse, she overcomes it, she does her duty and manages to give him what he wanted and still her children are almost nothing to him.

Even on his bed, during his illness he calls Rhaenyra “my only child” as if he doesn’t consider Alicent’s children as his, the sons he so much wanted and that she gave him. He forces himself to hold court to defend Rhaenyra, he would not have done the same for any of Alicent’s children.

He ignores his own son’s cut/off eye because Rhaenyra’s honour was put in discussion for the truth.

And whilst Viserys might have done well by Rhaenyra (defending her beyond defence, and loving her and making up for the years he overlooked her) he does not do the same for his other children.

And whilst in Fire and Blood it’s said that before dying he spent an evening with Helaena and his grandchildren, telling them stories that was cut off from the show and for good reason since he’s barely seen interacting with any of his children by Alicent if not to defend Rhaenyra.

Also, people like to think him of the new Ned because of the way they framed his interactions with Rhaenyra (which reminds them of Ned/Arya)… and it was intentional, and in some ways it was similar (Viserys laughing with her about her quirks and being indulgent with her, his rage but love even though Rhaenyra is being difficult for the standards of the time and context, his unwavering support of her claim despite her dishonourable for the context and time actions).

Though if they are paralleling him and Aemma with Ned “my lady you’re holding your hands strangely, who harmed you?” Stark and Catelyn “Ned loves my hair” Stark I’m gonna throw a right fit.

Anyone who knows me a little bit knows I adore Ned and Cat, despite their fragilities and faults… and to even anyone is imagining Viserys could be paralleled with Ned outside of the Ned/Arya parallel they are severely mistaken.

Even worse if they want to parallel Viserys “I want so badly a son that I'm going to have it at any cost (my wife's life cost), then when I have him I'm gone ignore him” with Ned fucking Stark who raised and loved the son of a man he most probably hated who might have or not abducted his sister, and has for sure secluded her away from her family against which he was fighting because of the love he bore his sister, protecting him even against his own best friend... I don't think they have been paying attention.

Since this can become pretty difficult and also triggering I'm putting the rest under the cut.

I give you the antithesis. Ned Stark with Lyanna Stark and Viserys Targaryen with Aemma Arryn and if any of you wants to argue that that doesn't count because it should be between Ned and Cat and Viserys and Aemma just remember that:

Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart.  — Eddard I, AGOT

Whoever Jon's mother had been, Ned must have loved her fiercely, for nothing Catelyn said would persuade him to send the boy away. — Catelyn II, AGOT

So, just shut the hell up if you're gonna argue Ned&Lyanna are not good term of paragon, also because we don't know what exactly caused Lyanna to bleed to death, she could've had a difficult birth same as Aemma did, she could have had a premature birth (like it happened with Visenya daughter of Rhaenyra), so many things could've gone wrong, still it is about a woman laying on her deathbed, during the birth of her son and the man who loves her standing beside her as she dies.

Ned and Lyanna So, the scenes begins with Ned running up the stairs of the Tower of Joy to reach a screaming Lyanna. When he barges through the door Lyanna is shown in a bed of blood, her whole middle covered in vivid blood, sweaty and pale, scared, delirious. Yet she recognizes her brother, whom she loves and missed even though delirious, and she's so much out of it that in a first moment she is afraid he might be a dream.

What does Ned does? He abandons his sword at the feet of the bed and runs to his sister's bedside, kneeling at her side and when Lyanna asks him if he's a dream, Ned assures her that no, he's not a dream and he's really there and to drive the point through he grabs her hand.

Then, as he caresses her forehead and holds her hand, she tells him she missed him and Ned, who has fought a bloody war, has lost his father and brother both because of Aerys, tenderly tells her he missed her too.

He does all he can to comfort her.

And when Lyanna tells him she wants to brave, even though he is holding back his tears he tells her she is.

Lyanna is clearly terrorized, not only has she just given birth mostly alone after months of seclusion and possibly abuse; not only with the grief of her father and brother dying because of Aerys madness and her situation with the fear for the man she loved (? maybe) and the other people she loved for sure (her brothers and her mother); she knows she's about to die so we can only imagine how difficult and traumatic the birth might have been for her; she's scared for herself and she's terrorized for her son who faces a terrible death if word ever got out of who he is.

What does Ned does? He tells her she's not going to die (comforts himself as much as he is comforting her) and goes out of his way to try and save her (demands water for her, which is a kindness and a help for women who have just went through childbirth; and demands she's seen by a maester, asking for his presence and apparently Rhaegar left his pregnant lover/wife without Maester? Anyway digressing). Lyanna on the other hand knows what it is that truly scares her, Jon's fate.

So she begs him to listen to her and he does. She begs him to protect her boy, to promise to protect him. She entrusts her son in his arms, and by Ned's words themselves:

He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. — Eddard I, AGOT

Another proof of how much Ned loved her is that he remembers perfectly Lyanna's last words, the way she died comforted by the truth her brother would protect her son, and thus her son was safe from any harm, but from that moment on (until presumably he was given Jon) he had held onto Lyanna, and he was so grief-stricken he could not recall what happened until Howland Reed had disentangled him from his sister.

Arguably Ned in the end did everything and more to ensure Lyanna died peacefully. Aemma would've probably died anyway (and both Lyanna and Aemma were put in a situation in which childbirth was even more dangerous than normal by their Targaryen husbands/lovers abusers for some damn prophecy, the same one mind you) yet Viserys failed not only for the sheer abuse he put her through (which I have already said) but for the way he handled the moment of her death. Viserys failed miserably where Ned managed the only possible success that day, ensuring his sister had peace as she died and ensuring her last wish was honored by keeping her child safe.

Again, Aemma might have died anyway, but first of all Viserys put her in that condition, despite being aware that their pregnancy had been always difficult and took a toll on her health, despite know how much it hurt and weighted on her. Still, Viserys didn't even manage to comfort his own wife, I'm pretty sure they could've given her milk of the poppy to ensure that she did not feel as much the pain and also making sure she staid still, something that did not happen. Aemma fought as Viserys and the midwives kept her still and down. She fought to survive, she fought because she didn't want to die and no one comforted her.

And I've cut out the worst of Aemma's death scene, the part in which she struggled and fought, and pleaded and begged to be listened to, to be comforted, to be helped, to be saved. Because as I've said it's pretty hard for me to see, and I think it might be pretty hard for anyone with a bit of sensibility.

Tbh, both men were put in a terrible situation, the difference?

Ned was not the one to put Lyanna in that situation to begin with, and especially from what we know of his character he would not have put his wife in that situation either. The Stark motto ‘Winter is coming’ is as much as a prophecy as ‘the dragon dream’, still Ned did not live his whole life with the only intention to father children that would defend the North. His children defended the North because Ned taught them their duty. Males and females.

Ned managed to comfort his dying sister, Viserys did not comfort his dying wife. Or did not find the right key to comfort her. Aemma died afraid and struggling to save herself. Lyanna died peacefully knowing her family still loved her, that they loved her enough to look beyond the parentage of her son to keep him safe because of the love they had for her. That Ned bore her.

Put into an impossible situation, Ned managed to do the only thing he could do. He made sure his sister died peacefully and feeling loved, knowing her son safe.

Aemma died struggling for her life, her child being torn from her womb at her husband's choice, fearful for the fate of the child she was carrying and grief stricken for all the grief the pregnancies duty and Viserys imposed on her caused.

So yeah, we respect no man who would put his wife/lover/woman through all of that for any reason, even less for a damn prophecy (you'll find no apologist's behavior toward Rhaegar and Viserys here) in this household.

Tbh considering him the new Ned means people have not really paid attention to the whole matter. Viserys is the new Rhaegar and the abuse Aemma and Alicent suffered is the same abuse Elia and Lyanna suffered at Rhaegar's hands.

So, yeah, this turned pretty long...but I really, really hate this paragon and I really don't think people should overlook the abuse Viserys put Aemma and Alicent through only because his love stories (especially the one with Aemma) are shown only by his eyes. It's a POV trap which makes you believe that the love he bore Aemma is enough to overlook the abuse he doesn't see as such. But it is there.

And if people wanna parallel Viserys (aka Rhaegar 2.0) to Ned… I just have to say

As always, thank you for your ask! And sending all my love ~G.

#ask the hag #anon asks #viserys and aemma #viserys and ned are not parallels #viserys I is the new rhaegar pass it on #viserys/aemma is not a good pair #brutally honest opinion #brutally honest opinion ship edition #brutally honest opinion asoiaf edition #the hag's brutally honest opinions

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Daemon/Rhaenyra Targaryen w/Rhaenyra's Twin!Sister Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ — 🐉 lady l: this is weirdly long but I needed to get it out of my head! This is based on a concept they sent me a while ago. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: incest, slight nsfw, obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of pregnancy.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!daemyra x rhaenyra's twin sister!reader.

You were Rhaenyra's twin, born a few minutes after her, and because of that, she always had a strong instinct to protect you, to take care of you and she always does. All your life, it was you and Rhaenyra against the world. And this arrangement always left you satisfied, you loved your sister and she loved you fervently in return.

Rhaenyra has always been very persuasive and for as long as you can remember she would convince you of anything; breaking rules, running away, stealing cake from the kitchen and getting into trouble. She didn't care, she valued you deeply and wanted to spend all her time with you.

Aemma and Viserys sometimes went crazy with the two of you being so naughty, but in the end, they always joined you. Aemma tried to be a little tougher with you both, but she always gave in eventually. Viserys didn't even try.

Rhaenyra was very possessive too, because you were her twin sister, she always felt entitled and that you belonged to her. After all, you shared the same womb and were born together, you belonged to her, in a way.

She was always quite bold and direct, and was often reprimanded for it. Rhaenyra knew she loved you more than she should have, but you were Targaryens, according to the traditions of your house and family, there was nothing wrong with her being in love with you. It was just the Targaryen way.

The only problem was that you were a woman. Not for her, that would never be a problem, but for others it would. She couldn't marry you and have you officially and it tore her apart inside.

That didn't mean she hid what she felt from you, because once she knew what she felt, Rhaenyra went to your room, which was next to hers, and confessed to you. It was embarrassing and a little awkward, but she was being sincere and it touched you.

You felt the same way about her too and it was eating you alive not being able to tell her, but she took the first step and you felt grateful. You didn't have any kind of experience, but you knew some things. The first kiss was sloppy and a little awkward, but it was understandable given the lack of experience between the two of you, but it was a precious moment,

You just kissed and hugged for a while, not knowing how to proceed. Until Daemon returns to King's Landing after winning the war in the Stepstones. You always liked your uncle, even though he caused a lot of trouble, he entertained you. And the feeling was mutual.

Daemon knew there was something between you and Rhaenyra, he very quickly noticed the looks and subtle touches you exchanged. It wasn't something platonic, he knew that and he wanted to know more.

During the night of Daemon's return, you had gone to Rhaenyra's room, as you always did, and there you found, along with her, some clothes left by your uncle and a note. Although your mind was full of doubts, you changed and followed your sister, who seemed excited for some reason.

Meeting up with Daemon, you explored a bit of King's Landing and before you knew it, you were in a brothel. You observed your surroundings with curiosity and interest, men and women doing intimate things.

When Daemon kissed Rhaenyra, you felt mixed feelings; surprise and jealousy being the biggest one. You would maybe scream at him when he kissed you, his experienced and strong lips yours, leaving you weak. You felt a desire rise within you.

His touches were strong and good, he knew what he was doing and you felt numb as he explored your body with his hands. Rhaenyra watched everything curiously. But something had changed inside him, as Daemon decided to stop touching you and left you and Rhaenyra alone in the brothel. You wanted to kill him here.

You and Rhaenyra returned to the Red Keep, sneaking out so you wouldn't be found and you both knew you wouldn't be able to sleep after witnessing what you saw. So, it was that night that you went further and had sex for the first time.

It wasn't something shy, but rather intimate. You had no experience, but it was good. Rhaenyra touched your body with care and her tongue loved your most sensitive parts, she quickly learned how to pleasure you. You reciprocated the pleasure as best you could, with your face buried between her legs, eliciting sighs and moans from her.

The following days were tortuous. Viserys had found out about your escapade and Daemon had been exiled and Rhaenyra was forced to marry Laenor. You would also have to get married, but your husband had not yet been chosen. Your sister's wedding was a painful time for you and her, the two of you constantly exchanging glances and Daemon had returned to the wedding, widowed and with your father's very reluctant permission, you and Daemon had gotten married.

After the wedding, you were forced to separate from Rhaenyra and you lived in Pentos with Daemon. You had learned to love your husband and he loved you, so it wasn't bad. Your heart ached to be away from your twin sister, but you were happy with your husband.

Daemon wasn't that bad, at least to you. He was loyal and treated you with kindness and respect, loving every part of you and comforting you when you were in pain. His kisses were more demanding and dominant, just like sex. Although very possessive and sometimes annoying, Daemon took care of you the best way he could.

Daemon had a lot of experience and knew how to please you, his fingers dipped between your legs and his mouth on your breasts or when he was buried in your heat he made you scream with pleasure.

You and Rhaenyra exchanged letters and a few years passed and children were born. You had two daughters with Daemon, twins, and Rhaenyra had had three sons. You met again at your cousin Laena's funeral, and a weight was lifted from your shoulders when she pulled you into a hug and held you, not wanting to let you go.

The three of you found yourself in a part away from all the whining and all the longing was broken. Words were exchanged, mainly between Daemon and Rhaenyra and when there was nothing more to be said, the clothes were removed and you made love on the floor, the longing prolonging the reunion.

Unbeknownst to you, while you were sleeping, Rhaenyra and Daemon met and actually talked. They knew they both loved you deeply and wanted you and were willing to cooperate and the best way was for you to get married in a traditional valyrian ceremony. With the plans made, Laenor was "eliminated".

You were shocked and saddened by your cousin's death, but you felt relieved because it now meant that Rhaenyra would be free.

During one afternoon, you, Daemon and Rhaenyra were married in a traditional valyrian ceremony, where you could be officially married. You became Rhaenyra's wife and she became yours and Daemon's. Finally you were complete and when the kiss was given, sealing the union, you knew there was more to this marriage.

The wedding with your uncle and sister would prove to be one of your fondest memories after the tragedy that followed over the next few years.

But for now, you would enjoy your possessive and protective husband and wife as much as you could, because only the gods know it won't be for long.

#a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #hotd #asoiaf #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere daemyra #yandere daemon x reader x rhaenyra #yandere daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x reader x rhaenyra #daemyra x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #yandere headcanons #Daemon Targaryen x reader #Rhaenyra targaryen x reader

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

The Good Queen

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)

Tag: hotd the good queen

Warning: Fluff. Happy ending. No one dies (except Aemma, sorry love) and everyone lives. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Slight gore.

Word Count: 3,901

Summary: The King must choose a new wife, and Alicent’s older sister, Y/n Hightower, is a suitable choice and a perfect match. For once, Viserys makes a decision that benefits everyone and upsets little few. The Seven Kingdoms are better for it.

Author’s Note: Not a request. Oddly enough, plenty request Otto imagines but never King Viserys. I thought I'd give it a try since I had an idea. But to be honest, Viserys x Reader are sort of background pairing/onlookers of this.

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

It was the most logical choice to pick the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower. It was also all part of Lady Y/n’s plan. After the death of her mother, she had become the guardian figure her younger sister, Alicent, truly needed in her time of grief and loneliness. Older and far more mature in beauty and wisdom, The Lady Y/n Hightower was determined to still give Alicent whatever was left of her childhood and did everything in her power to make her little sister feel loved and accepted. So if there were whispers regarding Alicent, Y/n likely knew about it. One night, her handmaid came into her room and warned her of whispers involving her little sister and the King. The maid spoke of Lord Otto placing Alicent where Viserys could see her after the death of the late Queen Aemma, and Y/n was beyond disgusted and furious.

However, instead of confronting her father, Y/n went behind his back and also placed herself where Viserys could see her. While she couldn’t stop Alicent from seeing the King at night without raising suspicion, she did, however, visited the King between meals and even ask Princess Rhaenyra if she could attend the Small Council meetings to act as another cupbearer. Rhaenyra, excited with the prospect of another woman being a part of the meetings, accepted the proposal. Y/n made sure to fill Viserys’ cup modestly and had even accompanied him in the royal gardens a time or two after that. It didn’t take much effort before he announced to his small council his engagement to her. Rhaenyra, sad but relieved her father found another wife, gladly welcomed Y/n into the family with open arms and was even more excited at the idea of Alicent being ever closer to being a part of her family.

The Hand of the King, however, was less than happy and voiced how displeased he was of her when finding time alone with his eldest daughter, “What have you done?”

“Done?” Y/n questioned from her vanity mirror, removing her earrings after a long day of the people of the court congratulating her.

“He was supposed to marry your sister.”

“Why would he want Alicent, Father?” Y/n tilted her head innocently at the reflection of Otto standing at a distance behind her, “She’s but a child.”

“In the gods' eyes, she is a woman grown.”

“So am I. I am the eldest, so why must she be married off first?”

“She’s the most comely lady in court.”

“If you think me ugly, Father,” she snarled, finally standing up and turning to face her father head-on, “Just say it and be done with it.”

“I had wished to marry you off to your cousin.”

“Ormund is Heir to Oldtown. Surely my uncle would want a better match for him to ally another large house to ours instead of within our own family. You’re a political man. Try to be smarter than the second son desperate for power.”

The insult strained their relationship if it hadn’t been strained already. Lord Otto barely spoke to his eldest daughter after that unless common courtesy compels him to do so, like complimenting her wedding dress before he gave her away to Viserys. Y/n may not have felt love when the King kissed her with the promise of affection and commitment, but she felt relief. Upon watching the way Alicent danced and laughed during the feast that night, entirely unaware and still innocent of childhood, Y/n knew she made the right decision.

It wasn’t long before Y/n was pregnant then the world as she knew it imploded with excitement. The maesters, after tending to all of the former Queen Aemma’s sickly pregnancies, were astonished to see Y/n flourish in quite the opposite direction. In a strange way, she was excited to be a mother, and practically raising Rhaenyra and Alicent helped with that dream.

At first hesitant, the princess grew to love Y/n as her stepmother, especially since the new Queen was her best friend’s sister. Even though Y/n was rumored to be carrying a son inside of her, Rhaenyra tried not to openly worry for her sake. She may be Viserys’ shiny new heir, but the idea of Queen Y/n having a son bothered Rhaenyra, even though Y/n tried easing her worries with the promise of always openly advocating for the princess’ right to the throne. This aggravated Lord Otto for obvious reasons. After Aegon was born, the Hand tried reaffirming his position over his daughter in order to persuade her into raising Aegon as the future king. In return, he got a stone wall, unmoveable even in the strongest of storms.

“You may be the Hand of the King,” Y/n had sneered at her father one night in the safety of her chambers, “But I am the wife to the King. I am the Queen.”

And with his daughter as Queen, Lord Otto found himself in lesser power than when she was just a lady of the court. With her baby boy on her hip, Queen Y/n attended many Small Council meetings, shameless at the stares of men around her when she took her seat next to Viserys, stealing the spot away from his Hand. Over some time, Y/n became to lean towards Rhaenyra when the princess poured her wine and offered small treats to her little half-brother. With the proper influence, Y/n had also convinced Viserys to grant his daughter a seat at the table, no longer a cupbearer. Y/n then happily stepped aside and let Rhaenyra sit next to her father while the Queen sat next to her own. By then, Lord Otto never felt further away from the King, physically and cognitively.

Even less so when his younger daughter was married off under his own nose. Like a carpet pulled underneath him, Lord Otto was forced to walk Alicent down the aisle and be handed off to her new husband, Harwin “Breakbones” Strong. Some wonder who could have ever picked out such a perfect match, while others looked no further than the Queen herself. With her father’s pawns now swiftly taken from him, Lord Otto begrudgingly asked King Viserys for his blessing to resign. Although shocked, Viserys only had to look to his wife before granting his Hand a dismissal.

Tail between his legs, Otto Hightower left for Oldtown, never to return to King’s Landing, even when his daughters produced him grandchildren. In his place, Lord Lyonel Strong was named Hand of the King and he was a better-suited friend to the throne, and most importantly, an ally to his Queen.

Queen Y/n was a busy woman, even while pregnant. Especially while pregnant. She couldn’t afford anyone trying to take away her power and influence when she was knocked down and so she was constantly on the move, no matter how round she got. Her daughter, Helaena, came quicker than Aegon, and so the Red Keep was filled with delight at the announcement of a new princess soon to roam the halls. Rhaenyra was delighted. She was spotted trying to teach the baby girl how to walk, letting her little sister hang onto her hands and trot over her own feet. Alicent was already a proud aunt, but she doted on Helaena much like Y/n used to dote on her own younger sister. It seems as though the Queen had been quite the influence between Rhaenyra and Alicent, both now fully grown, beautiful and proud.

If Alicent was missing her father, she never showed it. Instead, she spent her time excited when she learned she would soon be a mother herself. Watching Y/n raise her children, Alicent had grown to wish to be just like her sister one day. Harwin was kind to his young wife and understood his place in her heart must be shared with the people around her. He knew Alicent loved her sister, the Queen. He knew she loved her niece, Helaena, and nephew, Aegon, and above all, he knew she loved the Princess Rhaenyra. Harwin couldn’t blame Alicent. Harwin had grown to love her, too.

Y/n and Alicent were soon pregnant together, and it felt as though the Seven Kingdoms could not have had a more beautiful, plentiful summer that year. Everyone was happy, whether of the royal family growing or from the prospect of the harvest. Most of King’s Landing was always celebrating and most stomachs were full and warm. With the Queen and her sister expecting, the castle was alive with happiness and love.

However, Y/n knew there was one individual who was internally unhappy. She was no fool. The Queen saw the way Rhaenyra looked at Alicent and the way Alicent looked at Rhaenyra. Surely, Alicent’s unborn child sparked a deep-dwelling of sadness within Rhaenyra, longing still evident in her eyes. Eventually, Y/n saw the way Ser Harwin stared after the princess as well and knew that something had to be done. She wouldn’t dare dream of separating the three, but she knew that Rhaenyra had to marry soon or who knows what sort of rumors might blossom should someone else notice the tension between the princess, Alicent, and Harwin. Rhaenyra needed a husband, despite the princess making it difficult to find a suitor. Y/n knew where to look, but unlike the other times, it would take a lot more effort to convince the King of this match.

“No,” Viserys smiled, despite the clouds looming overhead, “Absolutely not. Daemon is not worthy of my daughter.”

“If you could have your way, no one would be worthy of her,” Y/n sighed, briefly smiling at her husband while rounding the Small Council’s table towards him, her hand brushing over the surface. They were alone at the moment, waiting for the other members to join them, “But she is your heir, and she’s no longer a child. She is unwed, and last I heard, Daemon had recently lost his wife, Lady Royce. As I understand it, their marriage was left unconsummated.”

“Others will look to him to be King, instead of Rhaenyra their Queen,” Viserys retorted.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Not everyone will be happy, no matter what decision you make, Your Grace.”

She reaches the King, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she crossed to stand behind him, rubbing his aging shoulders and physically feeling his body slowly uncoil and relax. Viserys sighs, long and exhausted, his fingers rising to rub his eyes, but instead reach further back and clasp Y/n’s hand instead. She squeezes his hand encouragingly, while Viserys still looked hesitant and forlorn, “He’s not worthy of her...”

“No,” Y/n leans down and kissed the top of his head, “But he does love her. And I think she loves him, too. They are dragons, Viserys, and your kin. Your house sigil requires three dragon heads. If Rhaenyra is to be Queen someday, then she will need heirs of her own. She’ll need dragons. This marriage proposal is not an unheard-of custom, especially for a Targaryen. This alliance will keep your legacy strong long after you and I are gone, and your reign over Westeros will remain peaceful long after Rhaenyra has passed on.”

The Small Council meets that evening, and Viserys announces Daemon and Rhaenyra’s engagement. For supper, that night, King Viserys and Queen Y/n sit beside Rhaenyra and invite the children and Harwin and Alicent along for the celebration as well. Rhaenyra’s eyes sparkled again for the first time in a while, and if Y/n noticed the tight grip her stepdaughter had on her hand, she didn’t comment.

Thankfully, Daemon was on board with this proposal and made no fuss when he was summoned to King’s Landing. Both he and Rhaenyra were married by the end of seven, long days of festivities. The newlyweds decided to temporarily part for Dragonstone, but both rushed back on their dragons when they received word of Queen Y/n and Lady Alicent both going into labor.

Aemond was a difficult delivery, but Y/n was, as always, overjoyed to have the infant brought into her arms. Down the hall, not long after Aemond was born, the Queen could hear a different cry coming out of her sister’s room.

Alicent birthed a son, Jacerys Strong. The whole kingdom rejoiced over their new prince and little lord. Many spoke about the bond the two would share growing up and strengthening the alliance between House Targaryen and House Strong. Lifelong friends were born that day, and Y/n could not wait to raise her children alongside her sisters'.

Rhaenyra quickly became pregnant as well, and by this time, Y/n had noticed the way Rhaenyra and Alicent hold onto each other as they roam the gardens, both of their husbands following them in tow. The Queen doesn’t miss the way the four often spend most of their time together, day and night. Sometimes, Y/n feels as though she’s intruding when watching them all interact. Rhaenyra and Alicent are usually glued to each other’s side, but if not, sometimes Y/n noticed Daemon accompanying Alicent and Harwin attending to Rhaenyra. There are times when even all three are attending to the princess as her stomach slowly grows. Now that she noticed this, Queen Y/n noticed other things as well, like how intense those training sessions between Daemon and Harwin can be.

For the most part, Y/n turns a blind eye and makes no complaint. She doesn’t say a word to Viserys, but she’s seen the way the King watches his daughter with her... group of confidants, and part of Y/n wonders if her husband sees it, too. Perhaps she is not the only one turning a blind eye in order to see Rhaenyra happy with the family her father always wanted her contented with.

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s firstborn is also named Aegon, nicknamed the Younger. Aegon the Elder was delighted when Rhaenyra confessed she named her child after her brother more so than the Conqueror. Viserys was a proud grandfather/uncle, holding the babe in his arms as he sat upon the Iron Throne to announce Aegon’s birth to the court. During the festivities, Viserys even made a lighthearted joke about how his darling wife was so young and it was nearly impossible to believe that she was now a grandmother.

More children came after that, though Daeron would be Y/n’s last after she broke out in fevers once she birthed him. She survived, but after that, both she and Viserys agreed that Daeron would be their last one. Alicent and Harwin bore two more sons, Lucerys and Joffrey, while Daemon and Rhaenyra had another son and a daughter, Viserys II, and Visenya. Despite a few age differences in between, all the children were raised together within the Red Keep and grew up nearly forgetting that they were, in fact, not all direct siblings. They were taught together. They trained together, sewed together, and fought together.

Ten years passed and they were the best years of King Viserys’ life, or so people claim. Even as his health declined, he made no room for sorrow, only joy when his children and grandchildren were involved. One of his favorite pastimes was overlooking the courtyard and watching as his children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews all played together. All of the Targaryen children’s dragons, still small with age, curiously watched them play as well, acting more like large dogs than fiery beasts.

As they got older, some of the boys got rougher. As siblings-who-are-not-really-siblings do, they all occasionally fight or they take their anger out in training. One unfortunate incident was between Aemond and Lucerys. Whilst training, it was clear that the cousins were angry at each other over something minuscule and so they tried to vent using the swing of their swords. Unfortunately, Luke swung hard and Aemond didn’t sidestep in time to avoid it. The very tip of the Strong boy’s sword slashed across Aemond’s eye, leaving behind an unspeakable scene full of blood and screams.

The Queen was summoned right away, directed to Aemond’s chambers where her son was already abed with the Grand Maester tending to him. It was a gruesome scene, even with the wound already cleaned. Aemond’s eye was swollen and angry, a long, ugly cut running through it, trailing down his cheek and over his eyebrow.

The maester moves away from the bed and allows the Queen to take his place by her son’s side as he explained, “I have given as much Milk of the Poppy as I could, Your Grace, but for a child of his size, it would be too dangerous to give him the proper doses he would normally need to relax. The pain has dulled, but it will linger.”

The Queen sits on the edge of Aemond’s bed, “It will heal, will it not?”

“The flesh will heal into a scar... but the eye is lost, Your Grace.”

Y/n’s face crumbles in distress, taking Aemond’s hand in hers while brushing some of his silver hair from his young face, “What happened?”

“An accident in the training yard, Your Grace, as I understand it.”

“Luke cut me!” Aemond cried in anger, “He cut me and I should have left my mark in return! I had my chance and I couldn’t take it! I wish I had!”

"Aemond," his mother warns, eyeing him with a look that only a mother could threaten with her child, “You don’t mean that. I understand your anger and your grief, but at the end of the day, what happened was an accident. Tragic, yes, but an accident. Luke is your cousin. He is a part of your family and he loves you. He would have never intentionally harmed you and you know it.”

She leans forward then and kisses his forehead, just above the top of the cut, "We can get you something to cover it up. Or, once it fully heals, we can replace it with a false eye. A diamond, perhaps? Ruby?"

Her lightheartedness softens Aemond’s anger, slightly, as he relents to his mother’s touch, leaning into her embrace as he entertains her idea, "Sapphire."

She leans back so he could see her smile of approval, "A fine choice, my love.”

The Queen stands up, taking her time to help Aemond lie down and get properly tucked into his covers. She lovingly pets his hair down as she turns to the maester beside her, “Grand Maester. Have some essence of Nightshade brought up to my son’s chambers. He needs time to rest and heal.”

“At once, Your Grace,” the maester bows then exits the room.

Y/n leans back down to her son one last time, bringing his hand up to her face to kiss his fingers, “Be hopeful, son. Women like men with scars."

She leaves the room and makes her long trek to the kitchens. Rounding a corner, she comes across her sister. Alicent was distraught and full of guilt, grasping the Queen's hands in hers as she cries, "I'm so sorry... Harwin and I will punish Luke accordingly."

"There's no need," Y/n is quick to reassure Alicent, her sisterly instincts kicking back in. The instinct never truly went away. It was dormant, but Y/n will always protect her sister, no matter how old she gets, "It was an accident, Ali. Aemond will not resent your son for it. I can imagine Luke is very distraught about what happened. You must attend to him. Reassure him that he was not at fault and I would never hold this over my nephew."

After she sent Alicent back to her family, Y/n returns to her original task and heads to the kitchens. She returns to Aemond's chambers a little while later, carrying a tray of food and drink for her son, ignoring the servants when they offered to carry it for her. Behind her, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron are hovering in the doorway, poking their heads into the room and trying to get a good look at their brother abed. The Queen sets the tray down and turns back to the doorway with a knowing glance, “Come along. Dine with your brother but then leave him to rest.”

A picnic was made in Aemond’s bed, his mother and siblings surrounding him as they nibbled on bread and cheese. They talked about other things to distract the injured prince, telling stories about their day or laughing at a joke Aegon said. Viserys, in search of his family, limped into the room with his cane not long after, smiling softly at the scene before him.

After sending her other children away to let Aemond sleep, Y/n takes her husband's arm and carefully walks with him to her own chambers. His hair had begun to thin out and a hunch in his back drove him to lean forward or off to the side as he walked crookedly. He was no longer the peaceful, handsome king Y/n had married, and a small ache in her heart hammered every time she looked into his eyes, age spots and wrinkles beginning to form on his pale skin. Despite his troubles with his health, he still never looked happier.

"You are a wonderful woman, Y/n," Viserys held her arm in a firm grip, his kind smile pulling those wrinkles further up his face. His eyes dazzled warmly, happily, without a sign of a lie, "You're a good mother, a good queen, but most importantly you're a good wife. Had I not married you... I am not sure I would be surrounded by the most loving family and ruling such a prosperous kingdom. What would I do without you?"

Y/n smiled back, patting his arm affectionately as they make it down the long hallway of their home, "Best not to dwell on such a question, my love. The Seven Kingdoms are better off without knowing."

~~~

Viserys dies in his sleep a few years later. His health had gotten worse and the only thing he allowed the maester to administrate was the Milk of the Poppy to dull the pain. Otherwise, he didn't ask for a cure, nor did he try to even fight his illness. Many often wondered if, in the end, he was waiting to die. Others thought that guilt was a deadly illness and whatever secret the King had, died with him. After being given a window to mourn, the now Queen Regent, Y/n Hightower, crowned Viserys' rightful heir herself.

Queen Rhaenyra's coronation was grand, as what Viserys would've wanted for his beloved daughter. Daemon, his brother, proudly took the name, King Consort, while Rhaenyra named her firstborn son, Prince Aegon the Younger, her rightful heir. Lyonel Strong remained the Hand of the Queen, but his son, Harwin, was named Commander of the City Watch and was given a place at the Small Council's table. His children with Alicent were given titles to many lands, their oldest son heir to Harrenhal. Aegon the Elder was permitted the claim to Dragonstone, while Rhaenyra's other half-siblings were appointed as squires and cupbearers to her court, some were even betrothed to the Strong children.

Y/n, however, remained in King's Landing, despite being granted permission to go back to her family's home, Oldtown. With Rhaenyra's permission, she remained in the Red Keep where she had made a home among her children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. Y/n Hightower -once called the Good Queen- died in her bed many years later, after briefly meeting her first great-grandchild to her son, Aegon, and his wife and niece, Visenya.

There were no Blacks. There were no Greens. A hundred years will pass and everyone will know the story of how one woman stopped the Dance of Dragons from ever happening. Or better yet, no one will have ever even heard of it.

~~~

A/N: I know, I switched everything up and made everyone confused. This was a form of therapy for me after I wished that everyone in the show would just get along.

Part Two

#viserys targaryen #king viserys targaryen #viserys targaryen imagine #king viserys targaryen imagine #viserys targaryen x reader #king viserys targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #paddy considine #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #harwin strong #daemon targaryen #otto hightower #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #daeron targaryen #rhaenyra x harwin #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenicent #rhaenyra x alicent #princess rhaenyra #daemyra #hotd the good queen

[jacespookiebear]

.ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 1

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen. 

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, sexual content, tension, age gap (reader is about 3-4 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, events do take place in hotd, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

The dreary atmosphere in the chambers that were occupied by Queen Aemma’s birthing was soon vanished and was replaced by sudden cries that did not belong to the Prince Baelon but a Princess.

“Your grace, it appears she had carried another babe. It is a girl,” the maester carefully wrapped the babe in a cloth before bringing her to King Viserys, “a very healthy one, in fact, what will she be named?” Viserys couldn’t believe his eyes as the babe kept wailing for her mother but in an instant, he held the babe with much affection and love while he cried.

On that day, the realm has lost their Queen and Prince but has gained another Princess, named (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Gently pressing your hands onto the old dragon, Meraxes, who you bonded with for years now. You began caressing her white scales as she leans into your touch—wanting to keep being the eye of your attention before you pulled away and started heading your way back to the castle in your personal carriage

“Meraxes seems to be growing even more each year, my Princess. Might be even larger than the Black Dread soon enough.” Lysanna, your Lady-in-Waiting, nervously utter as you laughed. You have been forcing her to feed Meraxes for weeks now—you never seen the young girl sweat so much while handing your dragon food.

You handed your gloves to Lysanna for safekeeping and she pocketed them in her coat. You both reached inside the castle. You had wanted to check up on your sister as she was to be expected in labor soon but first you headed to your father’s chambers to see how well he’s doing.

You opened the doors with Lysanna by your side, “Ah! My young girl…what brings you here, my sweet child?” your father, Viserys, lights up to see his daughter visiting.

Like always, he’s sitting by the windows and sculpting. The architecture has increased in size each year ever since you were just a babe. He would always lecture about his creation with you on his lap. Till this day, it still amazes you that he created this.

“I do not need a reason to see my father. I was on my way back from the dragon keep,” you sat in front of him, raising your hands to grab his in order to place a kiss on it, “Meraxes also wishes good fortune. She even cried out for my attentiveness today.”

To your words of Meraxes, Lysanna slightly giggles.

“Of course,” he brings his attention back to his sculpting, “you remind that dragon of Rhaenys Targaryen, the wife of Aegon the Conqueror. Whether you like to believe it or not.”

It is true. You have been often compared to the late Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, you both shared similarities. Perhaps that is the main reason why Meraxes chose you to be her new dragon rider.

“Have you considered the Queen’s offer?”

You turned your head back to your father—who looked rather serious. You could only gulp and rub your hands anxiously, “about…the betrothal to Aegon..? I can’t say I had put much thought to it.”

The atmosphere in the room changed quickly, you felt. You didn’t want to spend your precious time with your father talking about betrothals. You wished to be free from marriage and children as much as you can.

“The Princess is right, my King,” Lysanna spoke up, there was no evidence of nervousness in her voice, “she has been under much stress due to Princess Rhaenyra’s upcoming labors..”

The thought of marrying your young brother scared you tremendously, knowing how he treats the handmaidens—including you, Helaena, and even Lysanna. You did not wish to be betrothed just yet, especially to a man like your brother.

You cleared your throat and sighed, “If you do not wish to be betrothed, my sweet girl then I understand,” your father promises as you looked up with eyes that were prickled with small tears, “I will give you all the time in the world.”

“Thank you, my King.”

Although there was a slight crack in your tone, you certainly appreciated your father’s patience and understanding. You seemed to feel guilt for wanting to put off opportunity of marriage for as long as you can but you are certain you won’t have much time before you are forced to be betrothed.

With your thoughts disappearing, Viserys only looked at you with a soft smile and placed a kiss on your cheek. You got up from your seat and headed out with Lysanna.

After leaving his chambers, you walked all over the castle to find Rhaenyra’s chambers, you pass by lords and ladies who would bow out of curtesy. It was clear they all know you had just visited the King. As you place your hand over Lysanna’s in an affectionate way,

“Thank you for stepping in. I could not last another second talking about marriage, especially with father.”

Lysanna looked over to you—she was obviously feeling upset for you. She had voiced her concerns many times about how she did not want you to be married off to Aegon. No—you deserve better than that.

“If I could, I would do anything for you to not be wedded off to that boy,” she said with ease, paying no mind to the people around you both, “I would rather have you be betrothed to my brother just so we could be sisters and both be ladies of Winterfell.”

At the thought of living out the rest of your days in Winterfell, you could only laugh. Maybe your life would’ve been more easier and happier if you were to be living in the North. Lysanna had told you many stories about Winterfell, it only left you wanting to visit the cold Castle even more. It even meant you could always be with Lysanna and see the snow everyday—you always wanted to see the snow.

As the doors that belonged to Rhaenyra’s chambers opened, you were attacked by the limbs of the young princes and their clinginess towards you and Lysanna. They quickly wrapped themselves around you both.

“Auntie! Have you just came back from riding Meraxes?! I saw you both flying in the sky! I was waving too,” Luke exclaimed. With swiftness, he was already up in Lysanna’s arms. You and Lysanna only giggled at the young boy and his eagerness.

You gave his forehead a big kiss before walking over to the couches that were placed in the middle of the room to sit. “Indeed, my dear nephew. I even had Lysanna to feed Meraxes today,” Luke gasped at the statement, had he only been begging to touch the Silver Queen for weeks now. He feels betrayed that you let Lysanna feed him. “do not fret. You can mount her…if your mother only agrees.”

As you hear him whine at the agreement—knowing Rhaenyra would never let him or Jace near Meraxes until they were at least twenty, you see Jace only sit right next to you and place his head on your shoulders.

“Mother is starting her labors. She had just left and even wished to see you before you left the castle,” Jace muttered, though you could see how scared he is for his mother. Placing a short kiss on his head, “I shall stay and company you and your brother until she has come back.” You said as he smiles at your efforts.

Watching Lysanna and Luke play on the floor—both very indulged in the wooden figures that are scattered, you could hear your nephew shouting battle cries as Lysanna merely plays along. But still, you worry for your sister—you wished you came sooner and possibly be there for her during her labors.

Jace suddenly spoke up and forced your attention back onto him, “Aegon had said..that you were to be betrothed to him. Is it true, Princess?”

With the young boy’s confused look, you could only sit in silence and grimace at the fact that your brother had the audacity to spread such gossip to your innocent nephews. Your thoughts were soon to be interrupted by the Prince,

“Please don’t marry him!” he cried out, it brought Lysanna and Luke’s attention, wondering why is Jace getting so emotional. “He said that if you do then I won’t be able to see you again, you will be locked up in your shared chambers and occupied being swollen with children.”

How dare Aegon say such inappropriate things to him!? You would never let yourself be treated with such disrespect, especially by your own family.

Jace continues to plead, you quickly hold him in your arms as a way to calm him down. “What did I say about never believing a word Aegon says?” you smiled down at the boy, you had to put up a front in order to not let him see how hurt you were from those words. “He is only jesting and I promise you, I will not leave you. If he says another word about this then ignore it and don’t let him tease you, alright?”

As the boy nods his head, he spoke up once more, “If I could, I would ask to be betrothed to you, Targaryens do marry each other and that would mean I could be your sworn protector.” the words settled in and all you could do was smile and mess with his curls. You didn’t expect him to answer back but it left you feeling rather troubled.

After awhile of waiting, you felt yourself drift off on the couch but was quick awaken from the sound of the chamber doors opening—expecting it to be your sister but it was only the Commander of City Watch, you gave Ser Harwin a smile when he walked in.

“Princess,” he bowed his head before the boys made their to greet him. You nodded your head and out of respect, you fixed your position on the couch.

“Oh! How could we forget?!” Luke exclaimed before making his way to the counter that held a huge black pot, “Auntie! Ser Harwin had taken us to the dragonpit while you were away, we had collected an egg for the baby! Come Liz, you must see too!”

You wanted to see the color of the egg so badly so you quickly made your way towards the kids with Lysanna, watching Jace lift up the lid and it revealed the egg—it was certainly gorgeous, the whole egg was a dark colored that reminded you of the Black Dread’s scales. The egg must’ve been from one of the several clutches of eggs that Meraxes had laid during this month, she has been laying as much eggs as she can but it only made your father happier than ever.

In awe, you still kept your focus on the egg before Lysanna had nudged your shoulder. “Be careful, my Princess. You will burn yourself if you are too close.”

“We thought of a few names for the dragon! But of course that is up to the baby to decide.”

“Very well. Make sure the egg is placed in the cradle soon,” you voiced out and let Jace put the lid back on before watching them lead the commander onto the floor to play with the toys. They seemed to become even more happier now that Harwin Strong has come back but if they were happy then so are you. He acted more like a father to them and you weren’t the only one to have noticed, almost everyone in court seems to think so—especially the Queen. Unlike the other lords and ladies from court, you do not bother in such gossips about their parentage. They are still Targaryen, that is what matters.

“And, he sees a big scary dragon!” Jace exclaimed, playing with the toys, and you smiled at how invested he was in the game. The door suddenly opened and it revealed to be your older sister. Ser Harwin stood up as your sister and her husband walked in. You watched Jace and Luke quickly run to show mother the dragon egg. Rhaenyra’s hair was damp with sweat and messy, she looks completely worn out.

“Dear sister, I hope the labors went well. Let your mother rest, children.”

“Thank you, young sister. I must admit, it was rather more discomforting than the last.” She smiles, leaning into your touch and you can feel the sweat that was painted on her skin. It felt good to be by her side once again, even if it’s been a few hours that you both were separated.

“Mother..look,” Jace said as she moved to find a seat. Rhaenyra glanced at the dragon egg as she carefully sat down with Ser Harwin’s help. The Commander of the City’s Watch was always so kind to all of you. “We chose an egg for the baby.” Luke finished for Jace. In Laenor’s arms was the new child to your sister’s family. The thought of her having a big family warmed your heart—you felt the possibility that you were experiencing baby fever.

“Ahh…that looks like the perfect one.”

“It’s not everyday a dragon egg leaves the dragon pit, my Princess. I thought it was best to escort the lads.” Ser Harwin explained. Rhaenyra nodded, reassured that there was someone to watch over them, “Laenor and I thank you, Commander.” Jace closed the pot and you focused your eyes back on the newborn child.

“Another boy, I heard.” Ser Harwin softly said, and you watched as Rhaenyra smiled, confirming. As Laenor was coddling the babe, whispering sweet things. You heard him clearly, “You will make a fine knight,” he had said. The thought of the three boys becoming knights once they were more older was a fine one for sure.

“Do not worry, sister. You will soon have a girl, I’m sure of it.” Rhaenyra laughed at your comment, giving your hand a quick squeeze. She had always wanted a daughter and you knew this.

“Might I?” Ser Harwin asked, kindly.

With silence disappearing quickly, Rhaenyra uttered, ”Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.”

The Velaryon didn’t argue. He simply gave the babe to Ser Harwin before he started to rock the babe gently. “Joffrey, is it?” he asked, Laenor nodded. The name left you a little baffled, it was an unusual name for a Velaryon nor Targaryen but you did not want to voice your opinion.

Rhaenyra cleared her throat and laid her eyes on Lysanna, “Lady Lysanna, I apologize on behalf of the rejection to your wish on riding back home to the North,” from what you heard, your lady-in-waiting had asked to attend back home once again to celebrate with her brother who become the next Warden of the North, “I am sure the Queen has her reasons but I will make sure to speak of it with council on the morrow.”

Lysanna gave your sister a faint smile and nodded her head. You knew she had just come back from the entombment of her father—Lord Rickon Stark, whom had passed away. She received word from her brother, Cregan, not too long that he wishes to see her again. You had no idea why Alicent would even reject the idea, considering they are distant relatives from her mother’s side.

“The Queen knows what is best for me..she had promised my mother that she would look after me during my time here in King’s Landing.”

Even if Lysanna says those words with a grin on her face, you can tell she was still upset. She had missed her family dearly and wishes to be back home permanently but you knew there was a slim chance that Alicent would allow that to happen.

“I assure you, you will ride back to Winterfell. I will talk to the King..his word is above the Queen’s.” You reassured the young lady, Lysanna was truly in debt to you and your sister.

“Father, may I hold Joffrey?”

Suddenly, you spot Luke clinging to the baby, trying to hold him before getting yanked away by Jace and his father. “No, no, no.” Laenor fiercely exclaimed, dragging them both out, “Off to the dragon pit, you two.”

“But I want to hold Joffrey!” Luke whined.

You let out a loud laugh and ushered Lysanna to follow them, “Please escort the princes to the dragon pit. I shall meet you three there, I must talk to my sister on an important matter.”

Lysanna quickly glanced over to Rhaenyra then back to you before nodded and left with the kids as Laenor closes the door behind him.

Once they left, you could only sigh in relief. You had longed to talk to Rhaenyra and she quickly noticed your sudden change in attitude after she had excused the Commander of City’s Watch, holding young Joffrey when he gave him to her before leaving, “What has been troubling you, young sister?”

You fiddled with your thumbs in response, not knowing how to speak about the topic of marriage, labors, and children.

“Father brought it up again.”

With that, Rhaenyra immediately knew. Of course she knew, she was the one who quickly stood to your defense when the Queen had first proposed the idea. She let it be known that she was your voice in court and always stated that you will wed under your own terms. Afterall, your ten-and-fifth nameday was coming up soon and you were at the age of being wedded off, Alicent made sure you had known that.

Rhaenyra snaked her unoccupied hand to hold yours, she wanted to comfort you. Truly, she loves you so much. You were the only thing she now has of the memory of your mother and it was quite known that Rhaenyra was protective of you.

“Listen to me, sister,” Rhaenyra whispered, softly, “you will have the choice to yourself, I will make sure of it. You can put off the decision for as long as you want, I was ten-and-seventh when I was betrothed.”

Her reassurance only helped little. You know she will do her best to keep you safe, she always showed this. But the Queen will always do everything in her power to have it her way. Ever since you were just a babe, she was so persistent to take care of you like you were one of her own children—even referred you as her “eldest daughter” way too many times in court and it had always left Rhaenyra with a sour feeling.

“A wise woman had once told me,” Rhaenyra lets out a sharp sigh before continuing, “that we both have royal wombs and you will lie in that bed soon enough, sweet sister. This discomfort is how we serve the realm and with that, I had now understood what she had said. But of course..merely hours later, that wise woman had died in childbed.”

You could only take a deep breath and breathe out slowly, you did not want to cry but your own body was betraying you.

“Was it mother who spoke those words?”

Rhaenyra only gave you a fainted smile before nodding, “She would’ve been so proud on what you had become, dear sister.” Those words completely broke you and you could no longer hide the warm tears streaming down your cheeks.

Truly, you missed your mother and years after years you had blamed yourself for the death of your twin brother and mother. As though you were named to be the Realm’s Beauty and Undying—you knew deep down the Realm had longed for your deceased brother, not you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Oh my gosh, it took me about a month to write this lol! I am honestly going by hotd’s plot and a few of my ideas for the story. I do not want to fully go by fire and blood because I want this story to be less angst hehe. My first time writing, so sorry if it sucks! I apologize 😭

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys targaryen x you #jace targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x you #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you #house of the dragon x you #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (8)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: When you lost control

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest

The king is dead.

The words ring through your mind repeatedly, a horrible reminder that everything is changing for better or worse.

"Aemond," you finally find your voice after what feels like (and likely is) hours. "Is it true? Is he..."

Aemond gives you a sad look and pulls you close against his chest. His lips press to the top of your head as he whispers his answer. "Yes."

You aren’t sure how to feel. You loved your grandfather, and he surely loved you, but you’re nervous for your mother. You’ve heard so many whispers throughout the Keep… whispers that spell disaster for your mother’s ascension to the throne. There are those that would see your mother dead before they see her as Queen, and you’ve got the sinking feeling your husband and his mother are at the head of that battle.

“The safest place for you is our bedchamber,” Aemond tells you, and your heart immediately drops to your stomach. “You must stay here.”

“And if I don’t?” You look up at Aemond, tilting your chin in defiance. “Besides, why should I? My mother will be Queen. She is Queen if Viserys is truly dead. Why should her heir hide away and not be seen?”

Aemond’s lips are set in a thin line. “It’s in your best interest to listen to your husband.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Do you know what my grandfather is currently doing?” Aemond grabs you by the wrist and pulls you close. The pupil of his good eye is blown wide, black swallowing violet until only a void is left. “He’s searching the grounds for Aegon. Why do you think he would do that?”

“Because his father is dead.”

“Aemma, you aren’t a stupid girl. You know why. My grandfather will not allow your mother to sit on the Iron Throne.”

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. You didn’t expect Aemond to lie to you, he would never do that, but you didn’t expect such blunt honesty either. And if Aegon has truly ran off… you take a deep breath to center yourself. Your marriage to Aemond is still so new and now you’re being tested in a way you never could’ve imagined.

“What will you do?” You finally find your voice as you gaze up at Aemond, his features sharper than usual in the early morning light.

“Mother has tasked me with finding Aegon before our grandfather’s men.”

“And then?”

“I have no desire to see Aegon on the throne.”

Despite his words, something remains unsaid. He doesn’t want Aegon on the throne, but he doesn’t want your mother either. He won’t support her claim, therefore denying your claim as well.

Before tears can fall, you yank your wrist out of his grip. “Go then. Support a usurper over your wife.”

“It’s more than that and you know it.”

“No! I don’t know, Aemond! Viserys chose Rhaenyra as his heir. She is his oldest living child. I am my mother’s heir as her eldest child. What’s so complicated about that?”

“People will never accept a woman on the throne. Not only that, but your brothers are bastards and everyone knows. You have to be her heir because you are her only legitimate child. Unfortunately, not even that will save you if the people decide to rise up against your mother in favor of Aegon.”

“They would never! All the houses swore to recognize-“

“Words said by dead lords whose children don’t share their sentiment.” Aemond observes you quietly for a moment. “Don’t make me post guards at your door. I have no desire to make you a prisoner, but you’re forcing my hand. Stay out of this fight.”

Aemond presses his lips to yours, but you refuse to kiss him back, keeping your body rigid when he tries to hold you. You watch him go silently, rage simmering in your blood. When the two of you married, you had promised yourself to try. Try and make it work. Try to be a good wife to Aemond. How can you possibly do any of that now without betraying your family?

There’s only one option left for you: you need to find Aegon before anyone else. If anyone can convince him to not take the Iron Throne it’s you. He would do anything you asked of him.

Luckily, you know him better than anyone else. Even Aemond. They’ll search the brothels, the ale houses, but you know better. Aegon is smart enough not to hide in places he’ll be expected. That only leaves on place.

The Great Sept.

When you go to leave your room, you’re stopped immediately by the King’s Guard. True to his word, Aemond posted them outside of your shared chambers. They glare at you silently until you shut the door and retreat deeper into the room. There’s another way- a secret way your mother taught you should something like this happen. So you set to work, tapping against the wall until you find the door hidden by the fireplace.

You slowly make your way down the dark passage, sticking close to the damp stone wall. It won’t be far to the Great Sept once you make it out of the Keep. The difficult part will be not being spotted. You’ll stick to the shadows, though, and you’ll keep your hood up as far as you can without drawing suspicion.

You can do this.

You have to do this.

For your mother.

Fresh air finally washes over you as you reach the exit of the passage. You’re well outside of the Keep now, no guards to spot you as you sneak down the street. The Sept looms large and imposing in front of you. You’ve never been particularly religious, but you’ll praise any god you can if you’re the one to find Aegon first.

The Sept is still in the early morning as you step inside. Candles haven’t even been lit yet and the silence around you is suffocating.

“Aegon?” You try to make as little noise as possible, unwilling to alert anyone to your presence.

You hear a small cough come from underneath a table and kneel down. Aegon grins up at you, absolutely reeking of wine. You offer him your hand. He takes it willingly.

“Everyone is looking for you,” you tell him.

“And yet you found me first.” His expression grows dark. “I won’t do it. I don’t want the throne. Tell them to give it to Aemond… I’m not suited for it.”

When you don’t argue with him, Aegon lifts a brow in question. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

“Not exactly. I don’t want Aemond to be King and gods know I’ll only be Queen if my mother is dead.” You take Aegon’s hands in your own and hold them against your chest. “Aegon, we both know they’ll never stop trying to make you King. I need you to stop them. Do whatever it takes. Please.”

Aegon tilts his head, eyes drawn to your lips. “Run away with me. We can go to Braavos and write to your mother. She’ll understand and pardon us after she takes the Throne back.”

“Aegon, You’re married. What will happen to your children if we leave? You can’t protect them from Braavos.”

“No mention of your own marriage. Is there trouble for the newlyweds?” He steps forward and crowds you against the wall. “Say the word and I’ll take you away from all of it.”

“We can’t. We have to stay and you have to fight. I’ll stand by your side as your brother’s wife, but we can’t leave this mess for my mother to clean up alone. We have to help her.”

Something changes in his expression. His face tenses up and his eyes darken as he listens to your words. “And if I don’t? If I decide to take the Throne from Rhaenyra, will you still stand by my side? What if I stay the selfish bastard I’ve always been?”

“What would you gain from doing that?”

“You.”

That one little word sits heavy in your soul. “Aegon…”

He shushes you, kissing you sloppily. His lips are warm and demanding while one of his hands drifts down to hike your thigh up his waist.

“The only fucking thing I’ve ever wanted is you, and you’re the only thing I can’t have. But if I’m King? No one can stop me from taking you for my own.”

“You can’t.”

“I could. Who would stop me?”

“I would.”

Aegon trails his lips against your neck before biting down hard. “Would you? I don’t think so. Aemond wouldn’t stop me either. He doesn’t have the fucking courage. You’ll be mine one way or another. I’m letting you decide how.”

You let out a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t leave.”

“Then a king I’ll be.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[syrma-sensei]

→ A Doe's Trap.

gif credit.

pairing: daemon targaryen x baratheon!reader.

rating: explicit.

word count: 3.9k

warning: daemon targaryen is a warning himself, usual westerosi agendas.

PART II: A GOLDEN LOCK.

masterlist | ao3

COURT IS INFINITELY BORING; the flashing red colour on the outside walls is merely a clever cover for the ennui of what's happening inside. And the Small Counsel is, Seven Hells, dreadfully, the most tedious place one can choose to spend time in. King Viserys, however, is persistent on having his younger brother in his counsel. His Grace has given his orders and nobody, not even the Rogue Prince, can refuse his liege's commands.

Nevertheless, even his royal duties and counsel obligations get habitually interrupted by certain cunts. After several replacements for his job —stirred by those cunts— the prince, eventually, takes the post of the Commander of the City Watch, and he isn't pleased one bit. The supposed city protectors are nothing but lost and lowly scum. But he knows better, that cunt of a Hand wants nothing but to offend the Prince and his potentials, such an elaborated attempt to irritate the hot-tempered prince; the current heir to the Iron Throne is nothing but a mongrels tamer. But if the bearded wanker thinks himself subtle, then he's terribly mistaken, thus, Daemon accepts the challenge. Because after all, if he truly wants to be King someday, conducting with the riff-raff is a good way to prepare himself for the role, rather than transacting with sickly old men who swagger through the glories of their ancestors and making none of their own.

Tonight though, to his bother, he has to take a break from his new duties, for King Viserys has blessed the court with yet another of his many festivities. Queen Aemma, his cousin and sister-in-law, is with child, again. The celebration is held in the Red Keep's grand yard under the full moon's glimmer. And to his surprise, Daemon finds himself rather enjoying himself in the fresh air.

His violet eyes are fixated on the table where the King and Queen are seated, two vacant chairs next to them. One is his, and the other is Rhaenyra's, his beloved niece. His gaze, however, is not, by any chance, drawn to the royal couple, rather, the ones who escort the Queen. That specific one, with the blue eyes and dark hair. The Baratheon Lady, his precious doe.

She stands next to her queen as one of her most trusted ladies-in-waiting. With a bright mind, and pure soul she has captured the hearts of most men, and the Prince is no exception. The niece of Lord Boremund Baratheon is sent by her lord uncle to represent their house at court in her aunt's stead, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon, Prince Aemon's widow. Once the Prince saw her, she stirred something familiar within him. Something he thought he'd not feel as he fucked his way through almost every whore of the Street of Silk. The place that provides him maidens whenever he desires to claim their innocence. What's better than a whore maiden but a paramount and maiden lady?

Virtuous isn't a word one can label Daemon Targaryen with. Rather, the Rogue Prince has an equivocal proclivity for those of virtue, of purity. He cannot brush off the image of that beautiful doe clinging to his shoulders and sobbing in delight beneath him, while he rams inside her virgin hole as he deflowers her. He fantasizes her calling his name as she willingly gives herself to him, as he fucks Mysaria in the recent days, and his high would be unmatched. The only thing can outdo it is having the doe herself in his bed.

The doe senses his heavy gaze, and her sapphires lock with his amethysts, and she tries to hide her sheepish smile. Gods be good, he can't decide wether he likes that smile of hers, or the cries she'd be making when he's inside of her. His predatory eyes follow her slender figure after she dips in courtsy for the King and Queen, excusing herself. He traces her golden gown, the one he'll have much pleasure ripping it off of her and see what she's treasuring beneath it.

“Good evening, Prince Daemon.” The doe bows to him, then he sees clear blue eyes looking straight into his, the plumping heart between his ribs skips for a moment, “Congratulations on your new office!”

“Why, thank you, Lady Baratheon.” His tone is solemn.

“Please do not call me as such,” The doe bites on her lower lip adorably, “We're much more familiar with one another.”

Ah, the red cheeks, they're definitely his favourite, and perhaps what's more delightful is making them grow redder.

“Much more familiar? Hmm.” Daemon teases, “Then why did you not come and congratulate me when I first got appointed as the Commander of the City Watch, my lady?”

Daemon's grin goes wider as his tiny trick makes her cheeks flush with dark crimson.

Tearing her face aside, she says under her breath hotly, “Gods,” Then her eyes are staring back at his face again, adding hastily, “I'm terribly sorry, my Prince! The instant I heard of the marvelous news I looked for you everywhere to do so, but...”

Her blue eyes dart everywhere but his face now. Daemon purses his lips into thin line, tugging a dark lock behind her ear. “But what, my lady?” His tone is bored, unamused, supposedly.

“Please, let me explain, Your Grace.” He nods, granting her her wish. “I did want to be the first to congratulate you. But when I couldn't find you anywhere, they told me you're making new arrangements for the City Watch; to ameliorate the state of the soldiers.” She adds breathlessly, and Daemon can clearly imagine her breathing heavily after he sends to her highest high. “So, I presumed you were occupied with much more important matters, and I couldn't bring myself to take from your valuable time.”

Oh, isn't she delightful? So sweet, so caring. Does he deserve such consideration? Of course not. Should he take it? An absolute yes. How not? And she's practically showering him with it.

Daemon twists his lips, grinning. “In that regard, I should forgive you, my lady. But on one condition.”

“Name it.” Her answer comes immediately.

Ah, he does like those moments when her Baratheon blood rises, when she shows signs of challenging and daring, and the confident feature she wears is truly pretty.

So, Daemon indulges her. “I want you to honour me with a dance, my lady.”

“A dance?” She arches a dark brow quizzically, shockingly.

“Does it not rise to the doe's expectations?” He teases her again.

And for the second time, it remarkably works. “Did I give such an insinuation to the dragon?” The way her brow switches from puzzled to intrepid puts the Prince under a charm. The irony, how effortless and unintentional her gestures are, but oh, the way she wraps him around her beautiful fingers. How bewitching she is.

“It is said that dancing is much similar to battling.” She adds, “I dare not stand against you in the second, but dare I say, I enjoy doing the first with you. It is a sliver of reminiscent of what fighting by your side might be like on the battlefield.”

It's Daemon's turn to raise an eyebrow. “You wish to dance with a dragon, little doe?”

“Yes, very much so.” She says it with utmost thrill.

“Even if it might get you burned?” He asks her, eyes glistening with something menacing, but the doe does not see it.

“He won't hurt me.” The certainty in her eyes makes Daemon's head whirl. Perhaps he isn't the only one under a charm.

“What you speak is true.” His smile is gentle this time, and what he speaks is also true. Lust did indeed blind him at first, and the desire to defile her has driven him mad for quite some time. But no, after getting to know this doe, his delicious prey, he cannot bring himself to hurt her. But has his craving for claiming her ceased within him? Not once. It's been like raging fire, huddling and jostling in his chest, and taking hold of his head. It's like a curse afflicted upon him. He's no patient man, and the gods have put him in a laborious test. But again, since when the gods are indulgent with man? But Daemon Targaryen is as unyielding as them as well. And he'll be so until the gods get bored of him and give him what he wants. Daemon, however, won't wait for gods to get lenient. He shall take it by himself.

They dance, the dragon and the doe. And the shy lady is back again as her face turn red as she is spinning between the Prince's arms, holding his hands. Their feet move in such harmony with the music, and they capture everyone's eyes. Her face is close, so close to his, and hers is as dark as blood. Her fresh breathing is on his face, and the dragon inside him goes feral. He wants her. Gods, He utterly and wholly wants her.

The music comes to a stop, and a cheered applause rages from around them. King Viserys is the strongest clapper, and the Queen shakes her head at her husband's excessive excitement.

The dancing comes to a pause, and the King raises a toast, and the feast for all is set. The guests eat, drink, and laugh. The King gets drunk soon enough, and the Queen becomes tired. Viserys keeps on drinking, while Aemma retires to her chambers to rest. The Prince is next to his brother and niece, thinking of the doe who's nibbling on her food ever so delicately.

It is a rare thig she is, to be born a Baratheon and have a tender character. It's known that the stags are of vigorous spirits and adventurous endeavour. But unlike her house and himself, she seems quite enjoying herself at King's Landing's court. That, however, does not nullify the hints of fury within her soul. She's a daughter of a stag after all, and stags have always attracted the eyes of dragons; his great-grandmother, Queen Dowager Alyssa Velaryon, married Rogar Baratheon, lord paramount of Storm's End, their wedding is known as the Golden Wedding. And Daemon's cousin, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, is half Baratheon herself from her mother's side, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon. Daemon still remembers how Caraxes was enthralled by his doe when they first introduced them to eachother; she has Valyrian blood after all. He smiles at the memory, she has the dragon and his rider enchanted.

“You're quite taken by her, uncle.” Daemon's ears prick at Rhaenyra's High Valyrian.

“Quite the woman she is.” He replies in their mother tongue.

“Indeed.” She nods. “She is quite taken by you as well.”

That piques his interest, his niece has all of his attention now. “Oh, really? How did you learn that, Princess?”

Rhaenyra chuckles. “Oh, uncle, you have no idea how much smitten she is with you.”

Trying to conceal the curiosity eating him up, he clears his throat. “How so?”

“You have a reputation, uncle.” Rhaenyra remarks, “But the lady refuses to believe it exists, claiming that she knows you better. She sees you as her knight in shining armour.”

A queer sensation clasps on the Prince's heart. And for a moment, he feels as if someone has kicked the air out of his lungs. He directs a wavering smile to his niece.

“How unfortunate.” Then he falls silent, and speaks very little for the rest of the night.

After an hour of feasting, the music replays, and a merry yet drunken enrapture sweep over the place. From his seat, Daemon looks for his doe and he finds her laughing at some stupid jest cracked by Ser whoever the fuck he is. When their eyes lock again, she smiles at him sweetly, but he doesn't return it. Instead, he stands up, and maneuvers his way through the drunken singing and wobbly dancing.

It was an ill decision to come here from the outset, but what choice he had when the King forces him to attend the banquet that's held in the next royal's honour. The one might brush him off from his current line to the throne. Daemon, sometimes, thinks that his brother taunts him deliberately, and perchance he's pulled by other hands.

He directs his indignation upon his royal brother as he threads his way to his private chambers; where he's going to drink himself till sleep, and maybe giving his cock a hand-fucking before falling asleep. Momentarily, he thinks of visiting Mysaria, but no. He needs some solitude away from everyone else.

Once in his chambers, he shrugs off his formal attire and slips into more comfortable clothing. Before he starts his drinking session, he hears soft knocks on the door; he grumbles. Perhaps the one behind the door wants to be the victim of his wrath tonight.

Striding down to the door, he opens it sharply. He freezes.

“Prince Daemon.”

Gods, how does she do it? Putting off that raging fire within him onto ice just like that. Mayhaps she is an enchantress after all.

“Lady (Y/N).” He responds.

“Is everything alright, my Prince?” The concern in her eyes tugs the strings of his heart.

“Yes.” For the first time, Daemon finds his lying unconvincing. Seven Hells.

“Then why did you leave the feast in such manner?” The doe inquires, brows knitted, “You made the King worry.”

Of course, she came here upon an order by his brother.

“You made me worry.”

Daemon regards her, then he retreats back to his chambers, leaving the door open. A private invitation for her to follow him inside which she obliges to.

“What caused you distress, my Prince?” The eager concern in her voice makes him melt. A strange mixture of sensations coil at the tip of his stomach. It is the first time she comes to his private chambers, and he feels as if he led her into a trap. The poor doe, she doesn't know she just entered the dragon's den, and in his current state, he has no guarantee of what he might do next. He is mad.

“You.” Daemon spins around and faces her, she stands a few steps away from him. “You cause me distress.”

Gasping, her dainty hand rises to her now heaving chest, and her blue eyes widen. “How could I ever do so?” Daemon takes a step towards her, and her eyes are focused on his figure. “My Prince, I implore you to—”

Seven Hells. His doe can be annoying when she becomes rather talkative, sometimes. And it is a perfect moment to silence her in the way he most desired; his lips on hers. And oh, they are much more delectable than he ever imagined, and he could've sworn he can sip wine from them.

The doe stands still, eyes as wide as saucers, as he claims her lips as if he is the thirstiest man alive. When realization casts upon her at last, she pushes him away. Daemon whips his mouth looking at her. She's horrified.

“Do forgive me.” Daemon looks at the floor, not bearing to gaze at her scared face. “But I've been wanting to do this for a long while.”

When she doesn't answer; he dares look up at her face again. A more questioning expression adorns her face instead of the terrified one moments ago. She doesn't flee, nevertheless. Which is a good sign, Daemon supposes. He narrows the gap between them, cautious steps as if he's afraid that the doe to run off.

“I desire you.” He confesses, “Gods, you're the one I lust for the most.” His hands reach for her reddened cheeks. “I want to have you. Let me have you... please.”

“How can I let you have me, and we're not wedded, Daemon?” He sees two thin strings of tears rolling down her cheeks. She tears her face aside. “Gods, they warned me about you.” She sobs, “They told me to steer clear of you, but I didn't listen.” A hand covers her mouth. “The Queen even promised my lord uncle to match me with another to prevent your dark reputation raising questions about my virtue.”

Any ounce of sense left in him until this very instance is blown away now. The Prince's hands latch onto her forearms, and he draws into a vicious kiss. He tastes the salt in her tears and he's fuming.

“You're mine.” He whispers against her mouth, “Mine. You belong to the dragon, and anyone dares to think of having you, they'll have to deal with fire and blood.”

“Daemon, please...” She cries. “I do not want it.”

The Prince cradles her face softly, his hot breath licking her face. “Tell me, what do you really want, little doe?” He brushes the tears away, “Tell me what you wish for and I shall grant it for you.”

His fragile doe gulps, looking at him with the eyes of a prey begging for mercy between its predator's jaws. “Do not allow us to be separated.” She weeps, and her heart feels heavy.

“No, no, little doe,” He says in whisper, “Not a single soul can separate us, my little doe. Give yourself to me. Let me corrupt you...” He inhales, he's almost begging, “Let me defile you, and they'll have no choice but to let us be.” He leans to her ear, adding, “Let me fill your belly with my child.”

“Do not let another have me, my dragon, please.” She clutches into his chest, beseechingly.

Daemon's violet eyes dart over her face, before he plunders her lips again. His hands adroitly baring her, layer by layer, until she stands naked before him. Through her blurred mind, the realization of her nakedness casts upon her. She gasps and tries covering herself.

Daemon, on the other hand, laughs, shaking his head with such amusement. “Do not shy away now, little doe.” He makes her lay down on his bed, removing her hands from the parts she attempts to hide. “Let me see your beauty.”

Daemon has to pin her hands on the either sides of her head to make submit to his request. He looks at her body, and she turns redder and hotter than Caraxes's fire.

He has to admit, she exceeds any fantasy he ever had. And now she's all his to claim. The Seven be fucked, this is the one who deserves worshiping, perhaps she is The Maiden herself, and mayhaps he can be her Warrior.

“Fuck.” Daemon hisses, “You're beyond anything I've ever imagined.”

“Daemon...” Her voice is breathless, “I-I feel queer things in my stomach.”

The Prince laughs again, kissing her temple. “They are good things, my lady, worry not.”

She nods, unsure of what might happen next. Daemon isn't going to disappoint her. Although the strain in his loins is unbearable, he takes his time to spread what he dares to call... affections upon her. His rough-padded fingers massage her shoulders, his lips lavish her erected nipples, and his mouth leaves no spot of her soft skin neglected.

When his fingers reach her core to fondle, she asks him about the moistened sensation. He shushes her, and tells her it's normal and a good sign. He brushes her clit and her moans become uncontrollable, he enters a digit and she screams.

Daemon laughs and grins as she's innocently grinding against his fingers, chasing something building inside her belly, she tells him. He adds another, then another, and her virgin drawers can take no more and flutter around his fingers with a sigh of his name leaving her mouth.

“Is this why people lay with eachother, my Prince?” She asks when recovers from her high, sweat glistening on her forehead, “Even when they don't want to have children.”

Daemon chuckles amusedly. “People fuck for many reasons, little doe. Pure pleasure is what, sometimes, one only seeks.”

“The Seven forgive me,” She says in something akin to shame, “But I want you to fuck me, Daemon.”

The words, coming off her tongue so effortlessly, make the blood travel straight to his cock.

“It might hurt you, though.” He warns.

“No,” She raises her chin stubbornly, “You won't hurt me.”

Before he gets off the bed, he kisses her. Then, he starts to take off his cotton tunic. He glimpses at her, and he finds her tracing his moves, intrigued. She gulps when he slips his dark trousers off, her pure eyes witnessing a man's cock for the first time in her life.

He chuckles, and cannot let the chance slide without a tease. “You like my small dragon, little doe?”

“I wouldn't call it small, my Prince.”

The latter throws his head backwards as a loud laughter bursts out of his chest. “Yes.” He lands a knee on the bed, dipping further to her face, bringing her hand to touch him. She looks up at him then down at his cock, as her hand faintly brushes the dripping tip. She shivers and he grins. His hand never letting hers crawl away. She gathers some courage when she sees him delighted, and her fingers curl around his cock, squeezing gently as he twitches. Daemon grunts deeply as her inexperienced hand caresses the bulging veins of it, and he feels himself coming. With a groan, he removes her hand away. He didn't want to scare her off with loads of white strings slamming her stomach and face. Rather, he wants it deep inside of her. “Open your legs for me.”

She does so, but uncertainly. He positions himself between his legs, wrapping her legs around his sculpted waist. Inevitable tears pour from her eyes as he thrusts himself into her, and Seven Hells, her virgin cunt feels heavenly. How her walls suck him up greedily even though he's yet to move.

With a hoarse voice, the doe whispers his name over and over, as he takes her slowly while his hair is ghostly brushing her arms around his neck. She cries and begs, and he kisses and reassures her that he'll give her what she wants. She tells him it's building again, and he hits that innocent spot of hers again and again until the fluttering he felt around his fingers is now happening around his cock. He's already at his limits and his seed fills her waving cunt.

“Well done, little doe, well done.” Daemon eases her quivering body.

When he pulls out of her, the Prince is utterly surprised when the doe flips their positions, as she straddles him instead. Their liquids are oozing from between her legs onto his muscled stomach. Shock is blatant on his face as she bites on her lip unsurely.

“What is this, little doe?” He teases, “I supposed this was your first.”

She lolls her head down timidly. “I've always wanted to do this with you, everyday when I look at that painting in the Queen's chambers.”

Daemon is well aware of what picture his doe is referring to. That salacious portrait Queen Aemma has received as a gift from Lys. It's called: The Seven Arts of Love. Perhaps his sister-in-law has kept it as a mockery of the belief of the Seven. He'll never know, or perhaps the Seven made her keep it, so his doe would witness it and mock him with her straddling him on their first night. The notion stirs him to the bone, and his cock is painfully hard now.

“Perhaps another time.” He cups her breasts softly. “This position is not meant for the first time.”

A surprised yelp escapes her mouth as he flips her again beneath him, clicking his tongue. “If you want to ride a dragon, little doe, you have to tame him first.” He leans down, his silver hair dangling over his shoulders, “And believe me, it is not as simple as you might think.”

“We shall see, my dragon, we shall see...”

#daemon targaryen #prince daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x oc #game of thrones #targaryens #a song of ice and fire #fire & blood #matt smith #rhaenyra targaryen #king's landing #dragonstone #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff

[axelsagewrites]

Hey, how are you? Do you accept request for Otto Hightower?

I wanted something for "marrying Otto Hightower and being the younger sister of the late Queen Aemma Targaryen." Aemma's sister came to court her lost, however, things go wrong and Aemma ends up passing away and her baby also dies hours later. Otto Hightower, widower, hand of the King, with no heir (here, Otto and his first wife had no children, so Alicent was not born yet) and with the stain of his wife's terrible reputation hanging over him, Otto needs a second wife. What happens when he finds himself attracted to the late queen's sister?

Come on, it's supposed to be something light, where Otto doesn't have all that sick ambition to see his blood burning on the throne and having true friendship and loyalty towards Viserys and, of course, having sincere devotion and love for his dear wife. I hope this request reaches you well ❤️ (If I made you uncomfortable, let me know, i'm sorry)

Otto Hightower*My Honour

Pairing: otto x targ!f!reader

Word count: 1628

Warnings: mentions Aemma and her sons death, grief, praying to cope, angst

A/n: alicent doesnt exist in this one

Often times you wondered if staying in kings landing was worth it. it was here you lost your sister and nephew not to mention all the previous children she had to mourn and never hold. You had come a week prior to her labour and eventual death to help but after you felt useless. Perhaps if Rhanerya had not begged you to stay you would have left these haunted halls. After all she was only eight when her mother died.

It was hard to even walk through the halls most days. Every stone, every path, every flower a reminder of her. the sting only grew deeper when Baelon died. A son, an heir, all for what?

You could see the grief etched into Viserys’ face but that did little to comfort you. It was hard to even look at the man you previously considered like a brother. most days the only one you spoke to was Rhanerya.

If people said hello in the halls, you bowed your head and smiled and walked on. When they approached with sympathies during dinners you did the same. Very few words escaped your lips especially since each greeting was met with a sorry look from the lords and ladies who didn’t even truly know your sister enough to mourn her. You weren’t the only one to have suffered a loss recently, however.

On your near daily trips to the sept to pray for your sister, nephew, and niece, you would see Otto Hightower deep in thought. He’d come to Kings Landing with his wife a few years ago to serve Viserys however she had died only weeks earlier.

You’d met her only once and while she was kind enough, she was not the typical wife of a lord.  She tended to walk a fine line of what was acceptable at court and if the rumours and what daemon himself had told you see it was rare that her husband was the one to share her bed.

The marriage had been arranged, like they all are. You understood his position. You had tried to love your first husband though you did not cry when he fell out the moon door during a joust. Still, you mourned like Otto did. Now even more so.

This morning was like all others. You ate with Rhanerya, helped ready her for her lessons, then walked to the sept. however, as you walked something different happened. “Good morning my lady,” Otto greeted as he caught up behind you.

You jumped a little having not heard his soft footsteps. “My lord, sorry I did not see you,”

“It is quite alright. The fault is mine,” he gave a tight-lipped smile you’d seen a few times from him. “Good day my lady,”

Otto went to increase his pace, assuming your silence was a want for absence, but you found yourself no longer able to be quiet, “My lord,” you called. Otto paused, turning to listen, “Would you care to walk to the sept with me this morning?”

A small smile quirked on his lips, “It would be a joy my lady,”

Each morning from then he would join you on your way to and from the sept. at first no words were spoken. Then only a few. Never about death though. It was refreshing as selfish as it sounded. A time when you didn’t have to think of those you lost. Soon it was hard to end the conversation.

“You must ride on the back of her one time. You’ll get to see all the fun,” you laughed after recounting a story of your dragon’s adventures.

Otto laughed but you could see a little green in his skin, “No I think my feet shall remain firmly on the ground, but your offer is very kind my lady,”

As you arrived the sept a small smile found its way on your lips, “You don’t have to call me that. I have a name you know?”

“Really?” he teased, “I must’ve forgotten it,” you rolled your eyes, feigning shock and ignorance as you told him your name like it was a scandal, “What a beautiful name. much better than a name like Otto,”

“You’re so right. Only a cruel person would name their son Otto,” you teased before quickly hiding your smiles when the septas walked out.

As you were both leaving the sept Otto was inspired by your previous affection to return the same, “It may not be as exciting as a dragon but perhaps you would like to join me one night for dinner?”

You stayed silent for a moment as you walked and Otto could feel the sweat gathering on his forehead, “Would this be one of your dinners with the king and other lords or a private affair?”

“Which ever you preferred,” he said, swallowing hard.

A small smile on your lips put him at ease, “I’m free tonight,”

Soon you were laughing in the halls again. Stopping to talk to people again. Having conversations again. Viserys took joy in this, glad to finally see you back to your previous state. Though he could not help being sceptical of Otto.

He trusted him with his life, but he did not know if he could trust him with yours, “Have you seen much of my wife’s sister of late?” he asked one night after all the other lords had left the high council meeting.

Otto swallowed the lump in his throat, “No more than usual. Why my king?”

“No reason. Her condition seems much improved as of late,” he mused, watching his friend’s reaction carefully.

“Grief is a wild beast,” Otto said, revealing as little as he could.

Viserys however needed to know more, “My wife made me swear when we married. ‘if we become family then mine becomes yours and yours becomes mine’. Ever since I’ve seen her as a sister figure of sorts.”

“You’re very kind to her your grace,” Otto shifted in his chair.

Viserys sat back in his, “I’ve had a few lords ask me about her hand since her fathers and husbands passing you know?” Otto went stiff, “all arrogant, obnoxious lords, Aemma didn’t even like when she was alive,”

“She was always a good judge of character,”

“I like to think I am as well,” Otto went to speak but Viserys didn’t stop talking, “I imagine the offers will stop when the rumours spread further,”

“What rumours- “

“Please Otto I am not blind!” Viserys almost barked making Otto go still, “if your attentions are anything but pure, if you think you can use her as something to breed-“ Viserys tirade went on though if anyone else was in the room you’d see his guilt was wrapped in the speech, “then you have lost your mind. She is not something for me to sell, I wont do it, I wont let history repeat. So Otto I swear to whatever gods may exist don’t think I will not replace you,”

The room went eerily silent and was only broken after Otto painfully cleared his throat, “I would like an heir yes however,” he spoke up quickly when he saw Viserys face harden, “However it is not my main desire. I wish to marry, marry someone I care deeply for, someone who I picked and who picked me in return, and to have a child, a child as beautiful as your own daughter who I could bond with like you have. I wish for a family Viserys but only with her. and if she does not want me then I shall leave her be. I don’t wish to cause more harm,”

The hardness washed off the kings face, “If she does not want you? Have you not been courting her?”

“Not officially your grace. The topic it hasn’t came up,”

“What do you even do?”

“We talk,”

“Talk?”

“Yes. Talk,” he said, shuffling forward to gossip like they did when they were younger, “about anything and everything. About the flowers in the gardens and historical figures. Or the moon the night before or the sunrise that morning. We talk and talk and the conversation never dries up. She is charming and witty and more brilliant than any man- any person I’ve ever met,”

Viserys sat silently for a few moments, “You love her?” his words made Otto pause.

“I do. Even if she does not love me,”

“Then I think its about time you find out if she does,”

The walk around the castle gardens was only made better by Otto’s company. He listened as you told him about Rhanerya’s improvement in needle work and what you’d seen on your recent flights. However, his mind seemed to be wondering with each word. “Are you alright my lord?”

Your words snapped him from his thoughts and his mouth had never felt dryer, “May I ask you a question my lady?”

“You just did,” you teased, something he’d usually roll his eyes at, “but I will allow another,”

You expected a joust back but instead he took a deep breath making you pause in your tracks, “I was wondering if you’d attend the king’s birthday celebration with me?”

“I already told you I was going?” you said, head tilted to the side in confusion.

Otto took another deep breath. There was no going back, “I’m not asking if you are going. I’m asking if when we both attend, we attend together. As a couple if you will,” he stayed silent waiting for your response.

The blank look on your face made him panic but a small smirk slowly crept on your face, “Are you asking to court me lord Otto Hightower?”

“I suppose I am,” the smile returned to his lips.

“Then it would be my honour,”

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#otto hightower #otto hightower imagine #otto hightower x reader #otto hightower fic #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Can we always be this close?

pairing: Fanon!Viserys Targaryen x Female OC

summary: Viserys and Elna's wedding is finally here and so is their wedding night,.

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: Fluff, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, P in V, hand job

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

To say Elna was nervous was an understatement, she was terrified, she was shaking from head to toes. The high septon had married her to the king less than an hour ago, the kiss they shared will forever be engraved in her mind, his lips were very soft and welcoming, the hand he rested on her cheek was gentle and careful, the only thing that snapped them away from each other was the cheering of the crowd.

Now she was sat be his side during the feast he threw in the honour of their marriage. She felt like she was awaiting a dragon to breath its fire on her as she waited the words she dreaded, "Time for the bedding ceremony", someone was going to utter those words loudly for the whole room to hear.

She was awaiting her privacy to be violated as the council men watched the king consummate their marriage. Her septa had informed her before hand what entailed into the bedding ceremony and what her duty to her lord husband was whoever he was. She married a king. she needed to give him heirs, one was simply not enough.

When Rhaenyra crossed her mind Elna's eyes snapped up from her hand to search for the princess, the heir to the iron throne. She was dancing with her friend Alicent Hightower, both girls had huge smiles on their faces as they circled one another clapping with the other dancers along to the beat of the music, at least someone was happy and relaxed. Elna was very happy with the match so far but that did not ease her nerves. She barely knew the king but from what she has seen he was a nice man.

"My love" Her heart dropped for a second from fright when a warm hand engulfed her own. Her eyes snapped to Viserys sat by her side with a slight frown on his face.

"Yes, my king" She took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. Viserys squeezed her hand comfortingly, seeing the worry in her eyes.

"You seem unhappy, are you alright?" Viserys' eyes held worry in them. Elna smiled softly, it was a relief that he cared somewhat for her, unlike many men she knew.

"I am very happy my king, simply nervous" She answered truthfully. Viserys pulled up her hand to place a small kiss to her knuckles. Elna's face heated up at his action. Her other hand unconsciously began tapping on the table as the minutes ticked by. Viserys reached over and took her other hand and also placed a kiss to her knuckles.

"There is nothing to be nervous about" Viserys said, trying to calm the poor girl down, he could only imagine the horrors they had told her. He remembered Aemma telling him how her septa told her to "Lay on her belly and take the pain like a big girl until he spilled inside of her", he was mortified.

"I will take good care of you, sweet wolf" Elna wanted to believe him, she truly did but the stories the ladies of the court shared with her held her back from doing so. She gave him a weak smile before her eyes roamed around the room again, watching.

Lords drank, saluting one another loudly as the literally smashed their cups together spilling the expensive wine Viserys had imported from Dorne for this occasion, laughing loudly. The lords of the north were the loudest and most wolfish, some of them even had gone up to dance some old folk song singing it in a corner bored of the music of the south.

Viserys sighed seeing that his words had barely even dented the nerves of his new wife. He let go of her shaking hands and moved to cup her face to face him instead of the room, "I care for you Elna, I will not harm you or hurt you" Viserys spoke low and calmly. Elna gulped nodding her head slightly. "I know" She whispered. Her eyes dropped ashamed for doubting him.

"You are my wife and you will be respected as such by everyone, beginning with me" Viserys promised. Elna simply could not stop herself from leaning over and kissing him on the lips. Viserys returned her kiss without hesitation or shame, it was their wedding after all.

"It seems our king is eager to begin the bedding ceremony" A man yelled over the music making everyone stop and turn to the couple. Elna's whole face turned red as she pulled away knowing she was the one to initiate the kiss.

"Lord Tyrell it seems you have drank too much wine" Rickon Stark hissed at the man. Elna's nerves returned at the sight of her father's presence, was he to witness the bedding ceremony as well? She hopes not.

"Let us escort them to their chambers for the bedding ceremony, my lords" A maester cut lord Tyrell from answering her father. The crowd erupted into cheers at the prospect.

In a blink of an eye Elna was hoisted on Lord Bolton's shoulder, a friend of her fathers. "Do not worry dear, I will protect you from these amateurs" He assured her much to her relief. He patted her calf to calm her down. Still some men were able to rip through her wedding dress, leaving her in a very thin and see through slip by the time she reached her new rooms, the King's chambers.

The women and men who had escorted her and Viserys into their rooms were soon escorted out of the room leaving five people int he room, Elna herself, King Viserys, Lord Hand Otto Hightower, Maester Runciter and Lord of coins Lyman Bessbury to witness their union.

Elna shifted uncomfortably seeing the four men around her all eye her body that was peeking through the shift she wore. Viserys did not look any better, he was left in simply his trousers. He cleared his throat shifting a little with an obvious bulge on the front of his trousers.

"Shall we?" He asked, holding out his hand for her. Elna took a deep breath before taking his hand and letting him guide her to the bed that was covered by a simple cloth. The three men around them chose to stand side by side on the right of the bed.

Elna climbed onto the bed and laid back on her behind like her septa had taught her. Viserys moved to lay by her side, leaning on his arm to look down at her face. Her skin was milky white, her hair of the darkest shades of brown, her eyes almost the same color as her hair.

"Beautiful" Viserys whispered, his hand moved to cup her cheek as his eyes roamed her face. He couldn't help but count the freckles that littered her cheeks, there was a total of seventeen on each cheek.

"Thank you" Elna blushed. He leaned down and claimed her lips with his, missing the taste of the strawberry tart she had earlier during the feast, the only she had during the feast, Viserys noticed. Viserys usually observed her, noticing small things about her, how she cannot meet ones eye when she lies, how she twiddles with her fingers when nervous and how she does not eat when scared.

"Relax, I will care for you, sweet wolf" Viserys whispered, in her ear. He moved down slowly to kiss down her neck. Elna did not imagine that such soft and feather like kisses would bring her some pleasure. A shiver ran through her body when one of his hands moved to her hip, pulling her closer to him.

She gulped when one of the men behind the curtain shifted reminding her of their presence. Viserys noticed the way her body tensed and looked up to find her looking in the direction of their audience, an uncomfortable look on her face.

He reached up to touch her cheek and moved her head to look down at him and said "Focus on me and only me". She nodded her head obediently.

Viserys' fingers ran down to pull her shift up and higher to show her milky legs. They were the softest thing he has ever touched, almost like a baby's skin. He buried his nose into her neck growing addicted to the smell of some oils she had lathered herself with, he has never smelled anything like this before. It was a flowery scent he has never encountered before, mayhems some plant from back home in the north if it were possible for anything to grow in the ice and snow.

"Viserys" Elna whimpered, as his fingers trailed up her leg and slowly crept between her thighs pushing them apart to gain access. Viserys hummed again her skin moving his mouth down to nibble at her collarbone earning a whine from her. Her hand unconsciously snapped up to grab at his shoulder length hair.

His finger pushed the linen up until it showed her lower region and rested on her belly. A gasp tore through Elna's throat when the cold air hit her wet core. Viserys did not waste anytime touching her. His finger ran up and down her slit memorising the perfect outline of her beautiful parts, he wanted to memorise every part of her. To his surprise she was wet already, he hoped it was for him.

"So wet, my queen" Viserys teased, moving away to look down at her as he pushed his finger inside of his mouth to taste her. Elna has never felt more embarrassed in her entire life before.

"Is that good?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. Viserys moved to grab at her mound again earning a whimper from her. Elna has never been touched down before, only when washing herself and she usually did it quickly.

"Very good, my love" Viserys praised. He moved to push one finger inside of her. Her body stiffened at the intrusion, he shushed her softly, pushing back some of her hair.

"Tell me if it hurts" Viserys whispered. Elna nodded her head but did not move to stop him. Viserys moved his finger inside of her trying to find that one rough spot.

"Gods" Her back arched when his fingertip touched a spot inside of her she did not even know existed. Viserys smirked in victory and eagerly claimed her lips in a wanton kiss.

He added a second finger eager to hear more of her sounds, she sounded so sweet, almost as sweet as honey. He scissored his fingers inside of her attempting to open her up for his cock, his cock was an average size he liked to believe so. Elna tried as hard as she could to stifle her moans, she did not want the others to hear her, she wanted her sounds to be only for her husband.

"Viserys please" She cried. Rolling her hips trying to match his pace needly. Viserys sped up his movement feeling her clenching around his fingers. His thumb moved to find her swollen pearl, swirling around it gently to bring her forth with pleasure.

"Oh my gods, Viserys" She cried, tears building up behind her eyelids. Viserys curiously slid down to taste her. The one taste of her earlier was nowhere near enough.

"What a-are you doing?" She asked, horrified. When she could no longer feel his warmth by her side she opened her eyes in search of him to find him face to face with her cunt.

He smirked at her and dived in without saying a word. Her head fell back at the feeling of his warm and wet muscle lick a strip up her slit. One of her hands fisted the sheet in anticipation and the other fisted his hair pushing him closer to her. She was very close, she has never felt like this before.

"Viserys!" She cried, back arching as his tongue toyed with her clit. His fingers arching into a come forth motion easily touching the rough spot inside of her.

Viserys' slid down to join his fingers gathering more of her arousal, shaking his head from side to side once his nose pressed onto her pearl. Elna's whole body shivered, she felt like she was crashing, his name whispered on her lips, unable to breathe for a second. Viserys pulled back not wanting to overwhelm her as she came back down from her orgasm.

"That was amazing" Elna panted. Viserys smiled as he shifted to sit between her parted legs.

"I sure hope it was" Viserys placed both of his hands on her thighs, kneeling between them, his thumbs unconsciously rubbed soothing circles on the skin.

"Will it hurt?" Elna asked, her eyes trailed down his full form to his aching cock. She liked Viserys, she liked the way he looked, for some reason she found a fuller man attractive, they pulled her in more.

"Only a pinch" Viserys pinched her thigh almost as if he wanted to give a preview. She nodded her approval for him to proceed.

She took a deep breath as he unlaced his trouser and pulled them down, stepping back momentarily to take them off before joining her again in bed. She gulped at the sight of him, she has never seen a cock before except in one text before and his looked bigger than the one in the big.

"Here, hold my hand" Viserys offered her his hand generously. She latched both of her hands onto his in fear. His free hand moved to fist his hard cock before guiding it to her slit, moving it up and down to gather her wetness, an attempt at making it easier for her.

Elna whimpered as he pushed his tip inside. Viserys squeezed her hand reminding her that he may be the reason for her pain but he was here for her. She squeezed his hand, digging her nails into his flesh as he pushed his cock further in until their pelvises were flush against one another.

"Gods, it hurts" Elna cried. Viserys leaned down still balls deep inside of her. He felt horrible the first time and he still felt horrible the second time.

"Shhh, I am here" he whispered. He littered her face with kisses trying to distract her from what was happening in her lower region. It took every ounce of self control in Viserys not to pound into her, she was warm and tight, so very inviting.

"It is getting better" She sighed, her body beginning to relax. Viserys took this as a sign to begin moving, slowly, not wanting to hurt her.

The pain slowly simmered away and the pleasure was back however it was almost like it was doubled. His cock reached areas in her body that his fingers could not. One of her hands remained holding his own which he moved by her head while her other one moved to his back, pulling him closer.

"Oh- yes- gods- this feels good" She whispered in his ears, still conscious of the men standing beside the bed. Viserys let out a sound in between a grunt and a growl. The feeling of his heavy belly belly pressing down onto hers made the pleasure rise and she was unable but to roll her hips up for more.

"So good" She moaned, bitting his ear for some soft of control. Her legs wrapped around him in a bear like hug and also for leverage to roll her hips to meet his thrusts.

"Are you close?" Viserys asked, placing kisses along her jawline. His thrusts grew more desperate. Elna moaned a loud "Yes" by accident but neither really noticed too caught up in their pleasure at this point.

Viserys reached down between their bodies in search of her clit, rolling it between his fingers once he found it. Elna's arousal assisting him with the movement as it grew.

"Viserys" Her eyes rolled back, her walls clenching around him in a vice like grip as she spasmed around his cock. Viserys following her soon after shooting his sperm deep inside of her cunt, hopefully straight into her womb for a healthy child.

"Shit" Viserys body crashed down on her almost suffocating her but she welcomed it. Her legs unlocked from around him but her arms wrapped around him, holding him close as they came down from their high, his cock softening inside of her.

He rolled off of her and laid on his back by her side both panting and sweating, looking nothing like they did earlier, no longer well kept. Viserys looked her up and down searching for any signs of pain and when noticing none his eyes paused at her breasts moving up and down with her breathing feeling a pang of disappointment he had not touched them, he was too consumed with the idea of getting rid of the three men intruding on his wedding night to remember the beautiful globes his wife adorned. However soon he will ravish her like she deserved.

"If you are satisfied, I advise you leave, my lords" Viserys called once he calmed his breathing. The three men shuffled uncomfortably out of their room with their heads hung low.

"Good riddance" Viserys rolled his eyes once he heard them close the door and mutter to one another. Soon after cheering could be heard from outside their room. Elna blushed at the thought that people were awaiting news of their marriage bed.

"Now where were we, sweet wolf?" Viserys said earning her attention again. He made love to her twice more before demanding that the maids bring them food to their rooms, Viserys did not forget that his wife had not eaten well during the feast, and if he were being honest neither did he.

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #game of thrones #rhaenyra targaryen #king viserys #viserys targaryen #viserys x reader #viserys x oc #viserys smut #viserys targaryen fanfic #viserys targaryen x oc #elna stark #hotd oc #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #otto hightower #house of the dragon oc #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #house stark

[the-desilittle-bird]

A part 2 for Never Yours in the works? 🙏🏼😂

AN- And Yes! I am alive. Sorry for going on a hold but I had some existential crisis over my writing skills. And even now, I feel that this piece is not good enough.

Also, I have added a few more characters. So, have a look and if anyone wants to request something then go ahead. Also all the requests I already have in my inbox will be posted soon.

So now, here it goes...

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

The Dragon of North

Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Reader;

Cregan Stark x Wife!Reader

Part 1

Summary- And all begins to fallout as the Dance begins to start...

Tag List- @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @thekayarlene, @narcy, @helloitsshitzulover, @muushwrites, @daringboba, @bi2simps, @issybee0611, @yariany02, @agathe, @5moremin, @candypurplebutterfly, @saraelizabeth26, @moon-light1415, @targaryenmoony, @stargaryenx, @instabul, @shine101, @hyacinthus007, @mcam623, @eudximoniakr, @carissa_griffin7777, @marvelescvpe, @severewobblerlightdragon, @deltamoon666, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @ultrav0lence, @savagemickey03, @sunmoon-01, @literishdegree99, @watercolorskyy, @Lady-Juliettes, @cherryaemond, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @nats-whore

Warnings- Westeros politics and Daemon being himself

GIF Credits to @thequeenwechoose

Staying in the King's Landing never felt more discomforting than now for (Y/N). It had been near to two full weeks that she, along with her family, resided in the Maegor's Keep and to avoid both her sister and her former lover was becoming next to impossible.

Cregan had noticed, and queried time and again, every passing night as to what ails her; what makes her disappear in thin air when either of her sister or uncle appears in the sight.

(Y/N) wanted to tell him all as it is. The truth. But she knew what would happen if the truth came out. Her family will break as the poison of doubt will creep gradually; sinking its teeth deep into Cregan's mind.

The princess turned when she heard the sound of her name, Alicent held a soft smile as she sipped on her tea, the sun casting a bright glow on her face, accentuating her features a bit; but Alicent was a pretty lady from the beginning, sometimes making the princess envious of her, but their beauties were also different.

"Yes, my queen?" She replied in a light voice, her eyes drifting of to where Aemma conversed with Aemond while Daemon and Viserys played with the eldest son of Alicent; the firstborn son her father and the king.

"I was wishing to speak to you about a proposal," the Queen says calmly, twisting to face the Lady of the North, who does the same once she realizes that whatever is about to come is important, if not urgent.

"Aemond and Aemma makes a good pair."

(Y/N) turned to glance at her child; her eldest daughter. Her dark hair where braided back in a loose Northern braid, keeping the tresses away from her grey eyes which resembled her father's. Aemma was the representation of her paternal house; the Northern beauty residing in each single feature of her.

"I understand what you speak of, my queen. But this decision is not only mine to make," the mother of six said gently, her violet eyes genuine just as her smile as she gave the Queen's hand a comforting squeeze.

"Of course, my princess. Lord Cregan has every right to own about the matters of his daughter's betrothal," Alicent said with a soft, polite smile, returning her gaze back to the place where their children played in harmony.

Bran and Allaric were in the nursery which belonged to (Y/N) when she was a baby. The entire decor had been based on the colours of her house; red and black with dragon motifs here and there.

"My queen, if you don't mind, can I leave? I should go and find my lord husband," (Y/N) said, leaving the comforts of the cushioned chair to see where her husband is. "Of course, I have no issues, my lady."

With a polite bow of her head, the Dragon of the North strided confidently in the direction of the Small Council's chamber. She had a vague idea that Cregan would be discussing the upcoming winter and trades with her father and the Hand.

Taking a turn, a hand clasped over her mouth, dragging her to a dark corner while she withered violently, trying to escape from the death grip on her waist.

"Easy, zaldrīzes." (dragon)

The hand from her mouth was removed and (Y/N) turned to meet the identical violet eyes of her uncle. His hand still held her waist while the empty one cupped the side of her neck, caressing like lulling her to a sweet sleep.

"Skoriot naejot, ñuha zaldrītsos?" (Where to, my little dragon) He whispered, his breath caressing the skin stretching over her cheeks, warming it delightfully. His hand from her waist traveled up to her cheek, soft yet firm in its place, just as she remembered.

"Cregan might be in the Small Council's chamber," she whispered back, her eyes taking him in slowly, biting her lips as the moments spent in intimacy fogged her mind; outweighing her better judgment of just pulling away.

"Kostagon ao daor emagon iā moment syt aōha kepus?" (Can you not have a moment for your uncle?) He asked, his blonde hair caressing her ears delicately. He had always took pride in his long hair, always caring for it just as he did for Caraxes.

Before (Y/N) could speak of anything, the distant voice of her husband made her step away; her breath heavy and deep as she tried to compose herself.

Daemon ran his hand through his long hair, eyes darkening with frustration as a scowl appeared on his face; definitely not at all happy with the spell of the moment being broken.

"My love," the dragon princess found herself greeting her husband with a small smile, her hand slipping into his larger one as he leaned down for a kiss on her cheek, a silent whisper caressing the skin: "my dragon".

"Young love."

The scoff from Daemon was hardly concealed by the fake cough of his, but his act was only rewarded by his weak brother before the king turned to his daughter and good son; the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.

"I hope your discussions were pleasant," the lady said with a small smile; doing her best to make a short conversation before departing for her chambers in the considerably quiet wing of the Maegor's Keep.

"Indeed, my lady. This winter would be easier with the aids our king promises to provide," Cregan admitted, squeezing their intertwined hands in a soft way of reassurance. His grey gaze caressed her face softly; like the most expensive silk on a skin.

"I am glad we could help, my lord," Viserys said with a smile before a fit of coughs embraced him. Leaning heavily on the wall, the king tried to suppress the heavy coughing but to no avail would it go.

"Call the maester," Daemon ordered, rushing to his brother's side as he softly helped his brother upward while (Y/N) rubbed her father's back in an attempt to comfort him, but it seemed that nothing worked.

"(Y/N), you go, I shall see to it that he is well."

"But kepus-"

"-Go."

"Queen Alicent proposed something to me today."

The Wolf Lord looks up from the book he acquired from the Royal Library. The extensive collection of rare and precious books enabled him to find some which one could never find in the North; and being the husband of the Dragon Princess, nobody would deny him the books.

"And what did she propose?"

His features softened as he watched her dear wife with a keen eye. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded down her back in perfect soft curls; her violet eyes soft and unwavering as she glanced at him through mirror while combing the last of her tresses.

"She wishes for Aemma to be betrothed to Aemond. A way to unite our houses," (Y/N) said, standing up from the vanity as she softly made her way to their shared bed.

"Unite the North to the Crown or unite you with her family?" Cregan queried, placing the book down on his side as his lady wife crawled to him. "I am not sure," she hummed, situating her face on his chest while his hands came in contact with her soft locks of snow.

"Then let us not dwell on it yet."

#house targaryen #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon x you #daemon au #daemon targaryen #hotd one shot #hotd daemon #cregan x targayen #cregan stark x reader

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Viserys I Targaryen w/Second Wife!Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ 🐉 — lady l: Happy New Year!!! First headcanons of the year and I hope you like it. I hope you have a great year, good things come to you and good reading! Forgive me for any mistakes ❤️✨️.

❝tw: unspecified age gap, overprotection, not compatible with canon and Reader is the mother of Aegon, Helaena, Daeron and Aemond.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!viserys i targaryen x female!reader.

Viserys never wanted to remarry after the death of his beloved Aemma. The idea of ​​replacing her with another woman made him sick. He didn't want to get married again, but he was the King and he had his obligations to the Realm. To have a strong bloodline and strengthen the House Targaryen.

Although he didn't like the idea, Viserys after a period of time began looking for a potential bride. He received several powerful offers, such as the Velaryon and the Hightower, but he did not feel comfortable marrying Lady Laena or Lady Alicent.

So he kept looking and that's how he met you. An attractive young woman, but older than the last ones, and from a house powerful enough to provide strength to the Realm. Viserys was immediately attracted to you and knew he wanted to marry you.

The preparations were made quickly and well, Viserys was excited to be able to call you his wife, but in the days before the wedding, he spent time by your side, getting to know you better.

With that, Viserys found out as much as he could about you, about your childhood, your family, and your likes and dislikes. He was more than pleased, especially seeing that you were as interested in history as he was.

Rhaenyra also liked you, although she was apprehensive about the idea of ​​a stepmother, about the possibility of you providing a male heir, she liked you. You were kind to her and assured her that even if you have a son, you will not try to replace her on the Throne.

When you became the second wife of Viserys, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, he was already in love. Much faster than he would like to admit, Viserys was already in your domain and became yours even sooner than anticipated. At first, he felt guilty, guilty that he might be betraying Aemma's memory, but quickly, those thoughts went away. Aemma was dead and you were alive.

Viserys was more than happy to see that you and his daughter were getting along, it made him feel relieved inside. He couldn't wait to have children with you, to grow his family. When he learned of your first pregnancy, Viserys almost cried with happiness, but there was concern. What if you died during childbirth? He couldn't take another loss, couldn't lose you.

You were very much in love with each other, you had learned to love your husband and he was deeply in love with you. Your mannerisms, your personality, everything enchanted him. Your favorite moments together were when you talked about history, whether it was your House or House Targaryen. Viserys cherished every moment, every smile and look shared.

When you gave birth to a healthy son, Aegon, Viserys was very happy, not only because he had a son, but because you were alive and the birth was peaceful. The next pregnancies were no different, with Helaena, Daeron and Aemond.

You assured him, assure Rhaenyra, that you would not let Aegon usurp or anything like that happen when it was time for Rhaenyra to take the Throne. You adored your stepdaughter and she adored you too, seeing you as a second mother. Viserys would never admit it, but if you asked, he would name Aegon his heir if that was your wish. This shows how much he is in love with you.

You tried your best to fulfill your duties as Queen, mother and wife as best you could, discouraging any possible rivalry the children might have and reassuring your support for Viserys and your stepdaughter. Your main priority was to avoid a war. You presided over the Small Council, advising your husband as best you could.

You hold all power over Viserys, it soon became clear to everyone who really ruled the Seven Kingdoms. You could ask for anything, from the most insignificant to the most absurd thing, and Viserys would fulfill it instantly.

He is extremely overprotective, Viserys fears losing you more than anything and every time you have an entire armada comes out after you. When you are sick, he sends the best maesters to take care of you and will not leave your side until you get better.

If something were to happen to you or one of your children, may the gods be good. Viserys tries his best to avoid war and resolve any conflict with diplomacy, but all that changes when it comes to you. Any insult to you is like an insult to him and any way of hurting you will not be taken lightly.

No matter how peaceful he is, no matter how calm and rational, Viserys is still a Targaryen, a dragon and you should never mess with one of them if they don't want to get burn. Not only will you have your overprotective husband by your side, but also your children who love you deeply and will do anything for you.

You are not Aemma's replacement and Viserys doesn't think so. He thinks of you as yourself and loves you for it. He will always love Aemma, but he loves you in a different way. A more overprotective and possessive way. He can't lose you and he won't.

#hotd #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #asoiaf #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #yandere Viserys I Targaryen #yandere Viserys I Targaryen x reader #yandere Viserys I Targaryen Headcanons #headcanons #yandere headcanons #viserys i targaryen x reader #Viserys targaryen x reader #yandere viserys targaryen #yandere Viserys targaryen x reader #yandere a song of ice and fire

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Oooh good to know, thanks🥰 would you feel comfortable writing a Alicent x reader & a Rhaenyra x reader one? Where they are both fighting over reader’s love?

Title: Black & Green All Over

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Fem!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 8,224

Warnings: Follows the events of the entire show and a little bit of the book, so spoilers for those who are not caught up! Angst, underage love, unrequited love, childbirth, unfulfilled ending, etc. 

A/N: I apologize if you weren't requesting a female reader, but it's definitely what I wanted 😏 so that's what I wrote. Also, to have Y/n a part of the King’s court so that Alicent and Rhaenyra would have a reason to be around her, I placed her in the Strong family so that she also has a hot older brother. Sorry not sorry. Enjoy!

(I do not consent to my works being reposted/copied)

Lady Y/n Strong of Harrenhal was the oldest daughter of Lyonel Strong. Once he was appointed Master of Laws to King Viserys, Lord Lyonel brought his two sons and Y/n to King's Landing with him, leaving his youngest daughter behind. Once in the capital, Y/n was appointed to be one of Princess Rhaenyra's handmaidens, along with one other young woman, Alicent Hightower, the Hand of the King's daughter.

The three daughters of Viserys, Otto, and Lyonel became thick as thieves over their years of friendship. Despite being in service to her, Rhaenyra treated Alicent and Y/n as her equals, reliant on them as close friends would. But one particular day changed the three young girls' lives forever.

After Queen Aemma died in her birthing bed and Rhaenyra was named Heir to the Iron Throne, something began to strain between Rhaenyra and Alicent, and no matter how hard she tried, Y/n couldn't find whatever tear in the cloth this rift started on. The three girls were beginning to near womanhood, and with that came the expectations of marriage. All three of the girls' fathers were trying to find a suitable match for their daughters, and Y/n feared that this might break their bond permanently should the three friends separate.

"It is the way of things," Harwin tried to reassure his little sister as he walked with her through the royal gardens, hands held behind his back, "You are Father's oldest daughter. He would've married you off a while ago if he wasn't so busy attending the Small Council meetings."

"I know. But if that was the case, he should've married you off years ago," Y/n pointed out sternly, lifting her skirts as they walked up the stone steps leading up to a beautiful gazebo, "You are his oldest son."

Harwin smirks, acknowledging her clever response with a nod before directing the subject in a different direction, "And what makes you so certain that marriage would break your friendship with the princess and Lady Alicent?"

"Because we'll each be sent away to live with our husbands in separate corners of the country. Perhaps Rhaenyra could stay, but I'm not a princess. Neither is Alicent. We go where our fathers command it. Rhaenyra... she could do whatever she wants."

Her voice was sad, and upon sighting the first bench he sees, Harwin sits down and now had to look up to meet his younger sibling's gaze, "That doesn't have to be a bad thing, sister. Perhaps Rhaenyra will demand that you and Alicent stay with her as her handmaids."

Y/n paced in front of him, playing with her hands as her eyes drift off with her thoughts, "Perhaps... though I don't see her and Alicent mending their bond anytime soon."

"How do you mean?"

"They've been acting... strange as of late. They rarely speak to each other anymore, but they'll still speak to me."

"The princess just lost her mother, Y/n. Lady Alicent lost hers before that. Perhaps confiding in each other is not how they wish to grieve."

"But they would separately confide in me?" Y/n stops pacing briefly to glance at her brother, "How does that make any sense?"

Harwin shrugs, "Rhaenyra was just named her father's heir. She might feel pressured into confiding her secrets and council onto only one individual."

Y/n's eyes widen in shock, "Are you saying that she trusts me over Alicent?"

"... Alicent is the daughter of the King's Hand."

"That's ridiculous. Rhaenyra wouldn't do that," Y/n returns to pacing, stubbornly stomping that thought away.

Harwin thinks for a moment before something dawns on his face, followed by a shit-eating grin, "Maybe they both prefer you over each other? Would that be so awful? I must take any advice you could give me, sister. I would kill to be the centerpiece of two women's affection."

Y/n stops her pacing once more, instinctively smacking her brother in the shoulder as her face screws up into a scowl, "You're a dog, Harwin."

He laughs at her distaste for his choice of words, a hand on his heart as he pipes down with a genuine smile, "Try talking to them, Y/n. Ask them firmly and stop trying to decipher their thoughts in the shadows. Their answers may surprise you."

~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, her chance at talking to the pair of them never came to pass before King Viserys announced his engagement to Alicent, stunning both Y/n and Rhaenyra and furthering the princess' disdain for Lady Hightower. It broke Y/n's heart to watch her two most entrusted friends look absolutely miserable, especially as both she and Rhaenyra laced up Alicent's wedding dress together. What was once a fraying friendship now appeared to be completely shattered between the princess and now the new queen, with Y/n caught in the crossfire.

Rhaenyra would try to keep her mind off of all the drama in her family by riding her dragon, and sometimes, she would take Y/n along as well. Y/n was far less scared of Syrax than Alicent and was far more willing to ride with the princess, feeling as free as a bird and as large as a dragon when flying over King's Landing, unable to see the people below. If she was feeling bold, Rhaenyra would even fly the pair of them as far as Dragonstone and the two young women would have a picnic over the ragged cliffs, overlooking the unforgiving sea. Sometimes, they would get so full of cake and wine, they would huddle close to each other, leaning their backs against Syrax, and fall into a dreamless sleep, the wild winds blocked by Syrax's form. Those days were blissful and always took the weight off the girls' shoulders, momentarily forgetting all of life's struggles and hardships. Y/n especially loved watching Rhaenyra in her element, flying over everyone's heads, wind in her hair, and smile as wide as a dragon's jaw.

Months passed and Alicent quickly became pregnant to the whole kingdom's delight. Y/n tried her best to be there for her friend's pregnancy, but it was difficult as long as she remained Rhaenyra's handmaiden. Perhaps Y/n imagined it, but it felt as though Rhaenyra kept her closer now more than ever, purposely keeping her from Alicent. It distressed both Y/n and Alicent, the Queen wishing to have a true companion to comfort her in her time of need but unable to voice her wishes when Rhaenyra seemed adamant about keeping Y/n to herself.

"Perhaps you may enjoy having tea with the Queen later this afternoon?" Y/n tried to negotiate as she braided Rhaenyra's hair before breakfast.

"I would not," Rhaenyra spoke briefly, stubbornly avoiding the subject every day Y/n tried persuading her.

But the princess could not deny Alicent for long. Once she started her labors, Alicent finally found the will to use her stature as Queen to her advantage. A servant girl entered Rhaenyra's chambers that night, bowing her head in respect, "Princess, forgive the intrusion, but the Queen asked to have Lady Y/n by her side."

Both Rhaenyra and Y/n appeared shocked by this request, glancing at each other before the princess sternly spoke, "I deny it. Lady Y/n stays with me."

The servant girl, now pale and afraid, stuttered out her next words, "Her Grace thought you might say that and she said-- forgive me, Princess, but she would then demand that the Lady Y/n come to be at her side. Her Grace is no longer asking. A thousand apologies, princess. I am only the messenger."

The room falls into silence, Rhaenyra's expression crumbling into rage and betrayal. In the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her handmaid rising from her seat, her skirts in hand. Rhaenyra whips around to address her lady-in-waiting, "Y/n--"

"You may do as you like, Princess..." Y/n's eyes refuse to meet hers, her head bowed in departure, "But I cannot deny a queen and a friend who is in need of me."

Y/n swiftly leaves the room with the servant girl, not wanting to wait for Rhaenyra's response. The princess' actions spoke louder than words, and it angered Lady Y/n. It angered her to see how little Rhaenyra cared for Alicent as if their years of friendship no longer meant anything now that Rhaenyra's father forced Alicent to marry him. As if Alicent was the one who betrayed her. However, in Y/n's eyes, it looked as though it was Rhaenyra who betrayed Alicent. To falsely claim that Alicent was playing a twisted game behind the princess' back was childish, and Rhaenyra should've known better than anyone that her friend wasn't at fault for the King's stupid choice of marriage. Instead, Rhaenyra blamed Alicent for everything and now openly despises her, dragging Y/n into the mix even when she wanted no part of this... unnecessary feud.

The servant girl brings Y/n to the Queen's chambers, and she doesn't wait for the guards to open the doors for her. Y/n pushes her way through the heavy doors herself once she heard the sound of Alicent's screams of pain and raced into the room. Alicent was found kneeling over her own bed, sweating from head to toe, her hair loose and unruly. Her shift stuck uncomfortably to her skin and her hand was grasping her swollen stomach in pain. The wet nurses parted for Y/n as she reached the queen, her hands immediately flying to Alicent's hair as she gently pulled them out of her face. Alicent looked up, agony slowly crumbling into relief when she noticed the woman in front of her. She let out a soft cry and her hands immediately held onto Y/n's shoulders as another contraction hit her like a wave.

"I missed you so much," Alicent whimpered.

Y/n gently shushes the expecting queen, ignoring the pain she felt against Alicent's iron grip. The Lady Strong holds onto Alicent's shoulders as well, never wanting to let go, "I'm here for you, Ali. I always have been and always will be."

Y/n stayed with Alicent and personally helped deliver Prince Aegon II. Y/n stayed while Alicent was resting, the queen only trusting her friend to care for the baby while she lay unconscious, and she even stayed for the days Alicent recovered, never leaving her side. They dined together, took turns with the baby together, and even rested together. If Y/n was honest with herself, these few days were some of the happiest of her life. It felt amazing to reconcile with Alicent and spend so much time together as if no time had passed at all between them. It was like a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. She never wanted this to end.

Alicent eventually allowed Y/n to return as Rhaenyra's handmaiden, and the princess stubbornly pretended as if Y/n was never away, flying the two of them to Dragonstone for yet another picnic. However, for her next two pregnancies, Alicent continued to demand to have Lady Y/n by her side, again, only trusting her children's safety in her friend's hands. Y/n eventually started looking forward to Alicent's pregnancies, knowing that she would soon be able to spend precious time with her dear friend.

However, after Alicent's forth and final child, Daeron was born, Lord Lyonel Strong began to talk about a possible suitor for his daughter. King Viserys listened and approved of a union between Y/n and Jason Lannister of Casterly Rock. When Rhaenyra caught wind of this, she sought an audience with her father.

"I forbid it!" Rhaenyra proclaimed with as much authority as she could muster, "Have Y/n's betrothed come and stay in King's Landing if you wish, but I don't wish to be parted from her."

Viserys sighed with exhaustion, fighting off a headache as he tried taming his daughter, "Rhaenyra--"

"You had already ruined my friendship with Alicent when you decided to marry her instead of Laena Velaryon," Rhaenyra snapped, glaring into her father's soul, "Don't you dare try to ruin my friendship with Y/n by having her married off to that disgusting excuse for a man."

As always, Viserys tried to please everyone by disappointing a few. Instead of announcing Y/n's engagement to Lord Jason, he had Lord Lyonel instead marry her off to his twin brother, Ser Tyland Lannister. It all fell into place rather quickly. Jason Lannister married Johanna Westerling at Casterly Rock and Tyland Lannister traveled to King's Landing and married Y/n Strong soon after.

Rhaenyra thought she played the game skillfully, believing that keeping Ser Tyland in the capital meant keeping Y/n as her handmaiden, but her victory was only brief. During Tyland and Y/n's wedding celebration, Alicent stood over her guests and excitedly asked the bride to become her own lady-in-waiting. The proposal stunned both Rhaenyra and Y/n, but the latter of the two quickly accepted without ever looking at her princess for permission, which angered Rhaenyra.

"It is the highest honor for a lady to become the Queen's handmaiden," Y/n's other brother, Larys, sat in a chair by the fire while he watched her fuss around her old chambers, packing essentials. With this new... promotion, her chambers were now going to be moved closer to Alicent's, and while a part of Y/n was excited, another part of her was going to miss this old room and all of its memories. It was her room for years, ever since her family arrived in King's Landing. Larys wasn't as sentimental as his sister, looking around the room with a blank expression, "Surely the princess would understand that."

Y/n briefly paused from her packing, turning to show the dread in her eyes, "You weren't there."

"Of course, I was there, Y/n. It was your wedding. Do you truly believe I would not attend my own sister's wedding?"

"You weren't looking in the right places. You should have seen Rhaenyra's face when I accepted Alicent's request. She looked at me as if I betrayed her."

"And what else would she have expected you to do? Deny a queen's request?" Larys slowly, carefully, rose to his feet, reaching for his cane.

"Larys. You do not have to stand," Y/n quickly disregarded a dress in her hands and crossed the room, gripping onto her brother's elbow, "Stay a while. Rest your feet."

"My ever-dutiful sister," he affectionately pats the woman's hand, ignoring her invitation as he grabbed his walking stick, "And although I enjoy your company, I have reason to believe you'll have a different sort of company soon enough."

"What do you mean?" The new Lady Lannister eyed her brother suspiciously, "My lord husband has already left for Casterly Rock. He won't be back for a couple more moons."

"It is not Ser Tyland I speak of," with his sister's aid, Larys is able to limp towards the door, "But of the princess."

Y/n stops in her tracks, letting her brother walk the rest of the way before she spoke, "Have you been spying on her?"

"Why, sister, to spy on the princess would infer I had a possible agenda against her," Larys smiled, although weak as he opened the door and peered outside, something or someone catching his eye, "I just simply made an observation-- Ah. Princess Rhaenyra. Forgive me. I would bow, but--"

The door fully opens as Larys indicates to his bum leg and his little strength being used to open the door for said princess. Y/n straightens her posture as Rhaenyra drifts into the room, the Targaryen princess stiffly nodding towards the crippled man in the doorway, "There is no need for apologies, Lord Larys. You may go."

"Princess. Sister." Larys bids the two women goodnight and leaves, the sound of his cane slowly thumping down the hall.

Y/n keeps her eyes lowered, but kept her head tall. She waits for the yelling and accusations, for the princess to insult her and her virtue, but it never comes. Instead, Rhaenyra steps forward and gathers her friend in her arms. Y/n could feel the princess' breath on her neck where she had buried her face, thin arms wrapped around Lady Lannister's shoulders. Slowly, Y/n relaxes and hugs back, basking in the silence and the warmth of her friend. The calm before the storm.

"It's not fair," Rhaenyra starts off, pulling away but keeping a tight grip on Y/n's arms, "You should not have to juggle between us. She's clearly doing this to alienate me from you. She just wants you all to herself."

Something inside Y/n snaps at the princess' words, eyes narrowing as speculation slowly forms in her mind, "You speak of juggling and Alicent wanting me for herself as if I was just some toy... Princess."

Rhaenyra's eyes widen, her mouth falling open and shut as she tried to form words, "I... I didn't mean it like that."

"But perhaps you're right," Y/n snatches her arms out of Rhaenyra's grasp, turning away and getting back to packing, "Perhaps I am just some toy you two women have been fighting over these past three years. Maybe I was a fool to believe I was more than just some prize to be won. Maybe I was a fool to believe we were friends."

"We are friends, Y/n!" Rhaenyra rushes over and slams her hands over Y/n's clothes, forcing her to stop folding them, "We are the best of friends, and-- And... and sometimes I wished we could be more."

Y/n's eyes widen in confusion before peering up to stare at the princess, her brows furrowing together as she tried to form an appropriate response, "Excuse me?"

Rhaenyra's face pales, caught off guard by her own confession. Her voice comes out in whispers of disbelief, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're married now, and... And even still, I thought I could have you all to myself."

"Rhaenyra, of the very few times you've held your tongue, now is not one of those times," Y/n regrettably spoke harshly, in denial of what she believed Rhaenyra was saying, "Speak bluntly and plainly, as you always have."

The Targaryen princess lowers her gaze, straightening her back and away from Y/n's bed. She appeared conflicted, eyes frantically trying to find something in the room that could possibly turn her invisible. Finally, she summons the courage and wets her lips before speaking, eyes slowly peering back up at Y/n through her lashes, "I love you. I think I always have. I just wasn't aware of it. When we were younger, I just thought I was in admiration of you. But as I watched other ladies speak to one another... I realized what I felt for you wasn't normal."

Y/n's entire body froze, breath refusing to escape her lungs as her mind tries to comprehend Rhaenyra's words. She looked back down at her clothes, her voice not nearly as strong as she had wanted, "But it is. Alicent speaks of me the same way you do. It's perfectly normal."

"Perfectly normal for being in love," Rhaenyra steps forward, voice darkening ever so slightly at the mention of Alicent. Her pale hand softly touches Y/n's as she bends her head to stare into her hiding eyes, silver hair spooling over her shoulder, "She fancies you, too."

Y/n hesitantly meets her eyes, still in denial, "You don't know that."

"I do. Why do you think we stopped speaking to one another? We both realized we loved you."

The room falls into silence as Rhaenyra finally bites her tongue. Guilt began to pool in her stomach as Y/n's eyes widen in horror. Stepping back from Rhaenyra, Y/n also pulls her hand away as if the touch had shocked her. Lady Lannister felt as though her whole world was closing in around her, unable to crawl out of the chilling revelation, "So... these past few years... when my two best friends stopped speaking to one another... it was because this had all been a contest? A battle over who could win me over?"

When Rhaenyra didn't answer appropriately, Y/n's eyes darken, "Do you realize how foolish that sounds now that it's been said out loud?"

"Why must it be foolish to love you?" Rhaenyra tried to desperately defend herself, hurt pooling into her eyes, "You're wonderful."

"No. Stop." Y/n turns away and finds a goblet to fill with a pitcher of wine, quickly bringing the drinks to her lips to calm her wild emotions. She found it hard to breathe and to think, tears threatening to form, "After all this time, I thought... I thought-- I've been trying to mend your relations with Alicent so everything could go back to the way it was. But this whole time... you've intentionally grown apart, fighting over someone you could never have."

Rhaenyra's brows furrow as her lip began to quiver, "Y/n--"

"No." Y/n shocked even herself at how stern and cold her voice became, slowly turning to stare down the dragon princess, "I don't believe you. This is a stupid game, Rhaenyra, and I will not be made a fool. Even if Alicent loves me the way you say she does, and even if she's willing to play this silly little game with you, I will not! This ends tonight, now, this very second. You will come with me and beg Alicent for forgiveness because this. Is. Over."

The demand hardens something in Rhaenyra's chest, the dragon slowly coming out of hiding. Y/n knew she just ordered a princess to do something against her will, despite not having the authority to do so, but she didn't care. She barely even flinched when Rhaenyra's once broken gaze suddenly began to harden, venom dripping from her voice, "I can't believe you... I've given everything to you! And you betrayed me... betrayed me just like Alicent!"

"By the gods, Rhaenyra! Are you truly mad enough to believe Alicent had any say in marrying your father?!" Y/n roared back with the might of a lioness, stepping forward and surprisingly driving Rhaenyra to step back in shock at her friend's raised tone of voice, "Like every other lady in this gods' forsaken world, she gets no say in who she marries! She does her duty as a wife and mother and then she dies! That's it! You can't blame her for doing the very thing she was born to do. I may not have known about this stupid game you played with her, but I know one thing. You betrayed her. You accused her of treason and you couldn't find it within yourself to forgive her for something she didn't do. Do you want someone to blame? Blame your father. You betrayed Alicent by not supporting her, by leaving her to the vultures, by wringing her out, and by leaving her to dry. You alienated me from her, keeping me away from my friend because you were jealous. That is betrayal. And the sooner you see the difference, the sooner we can put all of this behind us."

Every step Y/n took brought her to stand right in front of Rhaenyra, staring her down with a ferocity that cannot be formed unless years' worth of keeping quiet were to suddenly boil over. Rhaenyra barely recognized the woman in front of her, and instead of feeling grief, rejection and anger took over. The princess' scowl forms and fire lights behind her pale eyes. Rhaenyra quickly whips around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her before either one of the girls said something they could not take back.

~~~~~~~~~

After that night, Y/n couldn't bring herself to ever look Rhaenyra in the eye, always moving to stand beside Alicent whenever they had to share a room with the princess. Even though she wanted to ask Alicent for the truth, Y/n couldn't bring herself to do so. She couldn't bear to know whether or not Alicent felt the same as Rhaenyra did, to know that they were both aware of this game without ever telling their prize the truth of it. Y/n felt ashamed and even dirty for the first few weeks of being Alicent's lady-in-waiting, but she tried not to show it. Instead, she did her duties, smiled, and nodded, but nothing more outside of that. Alicent noticed this change but decided not to question it. Instead, she enjoyed having Y/n in her company again, without the worry of Rhaenyra trying to take Lady Lannister back.

A part of Y/n wondered if maybe her rejection caused Rhaenyra to start lashing out. First, the princess raced out of the hunting party on horseback with Ser Criston Cole in tow, then she decided to end her engagement tour early, and then the worst scandal of all... she snuck out of the Red Keep late one night with her uncle, Daemon. The next morning, as Y/n helped Alicent clean up in the King's chambers, Otto Hightower walked in to speak with Viserys. Both women hid behind the changing screen as the two men spoke, horrified as they both listened to the scandalous rumors about Rhaenyra's night activities with Daemon. It didn't feel as though it was in Rhaenyra's nature to sneak into a whore house and sully herself with her uncle, but Otto confirms the rumors by stating that one of his own spies from the city had spotted the princess and her silver hair. Once Otto had left and Alicent snuck herself and Y/n back to her chambers, the two women consoled one another, with Lady Lannister determined to prove Rhaenyra's innocence.

"I don't believe it, Your Grace," she states while brushing Alicent's hair, "I will speak with my brother. He had the watch patrol last night. Perhaps he could shed some light on these disgusting rumors."

As always, she persuades her oldest brother to walk with her into the royal gardens, but this time, under hushed voices. She asks him if he saw anything strange the previous night, to which Harwin appeared tight-lipped about it. Once Y/n confided in him about the rumors revolving around Rhaenyra, Harwin finally relents, knowing he could trust his sister, "Yes. I saw her. But not at a whore house. She was running through the back alleys with Prince Daemon. Nothing more."

It relaxed Y/n's thoughts for the time being, and she reported this to Alicent. However, the queen seemed reluctant to believe Harwin's report, pacing her chambers that night with a cup of wine in hand. Y/n sat off to the side, watching Alicent wear a path into the floor.

"It's possible that she only wanted to explore the city with the prince," Y/n tried to reassure her queen, "And all anyone who wouldn't want to see her on the Iron Throne would have to do is start a train of whispers."

Alicent nodded, but continued to pace, "I had wondered if my father's spy was just trying to win favor from him."

"Favor? Why would Lord Otto reward someone for this scandal? He'll serve Rhaenyra one day, so why would he want to see her public image fall?"

The question falls from her lips and a thought dawns on Y/n as she watched Alicent pause in her steps, looking away from her handmaid. It was the only answer Y/n needed as she stated the obvious, "Your father doesn't want her to rule."

Alicent doesn't face Y/n when she confessed, "He believes the Seven Kingdoms would burn if she ascended the throne."

"Do you believe that?"

"I don't know," Alicent admits, starting her pacing again while taking a sip of wine, "But Rhaenyra told me herself that nothing happened."

Y/n's eyes widen, shock evident on her face, "You spoke with Rhaenyra?"

"I did."

Lady Y/n's heart falls, her shoulders beginning to slouch with the weight of that sentence. So Alicent and Rhaenyra do still talk. Did that mean this whole contest for Y/n's heart was just one-sided on Rhaenyra's behalf? Alicent doesn't appear to have the motivation to compete with the princess, so why would Rhaenyra say such awful things about her?

She swallowed the bile crawling up her throat, lowering her eyes to the floor, "Do you believe her?"

"I have to believe her. She's my friend."

Y/n's heart continues to shatter at the revelation. Alicent still saw Rhaenyra as a friend, so it could only be Rhaenyra whose envious of this whole... stupid game. It might mean that Alicent doesn't love Y/n the way Rhaenyra does, leaving the princess' anger all for naught... so why did Y/n feel disappointed?

"But...?"

Alicent sighed in exhaustion as Y/n pressed on, "But I can't help but feel like it's true. Rhaenyra isn't the girl we once knew. She's... changed."

"And if the rumors are true, then what difference does it make?"

The Queen's eyes snap back to her lady-in-waiting as if appalled by her friend's stupidity of the obvious, "Her maidenhead was taken, Y/n! Rhaenyra's virtue has been soiled!"

"If that is true, does it really concern you, Your Grace?" Alicent's eyes widen as Y/n finally looks back at her, shocking even herself when her tone and posture remained calm and insincere, "You are not her mother. Whatever happens to her will not affect you."

"She's acting childish and taking advantage of her stature in life. She acts like she can do whatever she wants. And I want her to answer for it."

"You're the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms... anyone would kill to be in the position you're in. And Rhaenyra swore to you that nothing happened. Isn't that enough?"

Alicent never responded, instead asking Y/n to fetch more wine and draw a bath.

~~~~~~~~~

A week passes and Otto is disregarded as Hand of the King, replaced by Y/n's father, Lord Lyonel. Alicent was distraught the night her father left; perhaps it was envy, but she didn't want Y/n to comfort her. Plans had been made for Viserys and Rhaenyra to leave for Driftmark to propose a marriage between her and Laenor Velaryon and not long after they left, Y/n noticed her brother Larys taking a quiet fancy with Alicent. She had caught him speaking to the queen under hushed voices more than once since the king and princess have been away, and Alicent refuses to answer why when Y/n asked her. With her father gone in Driftmark, Y/n instead turns to her other brother.

"I think Larys is spying on the princess and reporting back to Alicent."

Harwin's dark eyebrows furrow, his eyes clearly troubled by this accusation, "Are you certain? He's our brother, Y/n. Do you think he means harm?"

"I don't know... all the same, please keep an eye on Rhaenyra for me. When she returns, that is."

When the King and his daughter return, the Velaryons soon follow and a grand, seven-day wedding ceremony was set to take place. The planning and decorations were as grand as a gods' feast, and half the kingdom was excited about this union. Even Rhaenyra looked happy... and oh, so beautiful in her wedding dress. Being Tyland Lannister's wife, Y/n had to walk into the throne room under his arm and announced as Lady Lannister along with Lord Jason and his wife. Alicent was quite alright with this and told Y/n not to worry about her. She planned on getting herself ready for the night, and for some reason, the way she spoke sent chills down Y/n's back.

It was all going smoothly until Daemon showed up... and then Alicent, wearing the most radiant green dress in the entire world. The color of the dress is what drained the blood from Y/n's face as she sat next to her husband, Tyland even had to help his wife stand when the Queen passed their table. Looking across the way, Y/n spotted both of her brothers standing at the table reserved for their house, and she had trouble swallowing when she noticed her brothers' mouth the words 'green' and 'war'.

Y/n was no fool, and the way Alicent coldly spoke to Rhaenyra only made her stomach turn. Trying to ignore the meaning behind Alicent's dress, Y/n tried watching Laenor and Rhaenyra dance. Over time, others joined the dancefloor, Y/n included. She first danced with her husband and with a brief spin, they switched partners, Tyland now dancing with Rhaenyra and Laenor dancing with Y/n. After a few other dance partners, Y/n eventually spun into her brother's arms and didn't hesitate to whisper in his ear.

"Go dance with the princess. Get her to laugh... I think she needs someone to keep her mind off of things."

Harwin nods with a look of determination. At the next spin, Harwin fits himself between the crowd and eventually finds Rhaenyra. Y/n smiled while watching them dance and didn't pay attention to who her next dance partner could be until she fell into Daemon Targaryen's arms.

"You have quite the loyal dog for a brother, Lady Y/n."

Y/n's posture tightens and her voice thins, "Quite an observation, my prince."

"I haven't had the time to converse with you as of late," Daemon smirks as he spins the pair of them in a circle.

"I apologize, my prince. I have been busy attending to our queen."

"Ah, yes. You're new position as her handmaid. I did wonder why Rhaenyra never spoke of you last time we talked."

Something tightens in Y/n's chest, confusion sprouting on her face, "I doubt she speaks of me that often for you to notice."

"When she was younger, all the time."

It hurt to hear this from Rhaenyra's uncle of all people. Y/n briefly looked away, feeling ashamed enough to change the topic, "I had meant to come to you and apologize for the loss of your wife. The gods are cruel to take away life so young."

"Her life was no loss to me. She was never kind to me. The reason why I came to this celebration was to acquire a new wife," Daemon's smirk had yet to leave, his eyes ever mischievous while looking down at the lady in his arms, "Perhaps you know of someone, my lady?"

Y/n bites the inside of her cheek, "I have been wed to Ser Tyland Lannister for many months now, my prince."

"Congratulations. Although I wasn't referring to you," Daemon's eyes briefly look over her shoulder, "No disrespect. You are quite the creature. But Rhaenyra would never forgive me if I married you. Too many of her family members have taken her lovely friends away as of late."

Y/n followed his gaze and sure enough, Rhaenyra was watching the two of them out of the corner of her eye, but then quickly looked away to laugh at something Harwin had said. The guilt in Y/n's stomach tightened and so she excused herself from the dance floor with the reason of tending to Alicent, who remained sitting at the front of the room.

And just in time as well. Before Y/n could even reach Alicent, a swarm of screams and cries rang out over the dancing crowd, driving her to spin back around. Kingsguards frantically try to break through the mob of lords and ladies, but to no avail, and yet no one knew why there was chaos running through the dancefloor. People were shoving past one another, frantic to find an exit or further crowd around whatever was going on, blocking the view from sight. After a moment of fear, Y/n's feet bring her to Alicent, shielding the Queen with her own body in case of any danger, Alicent's hand gripping onto her friend's arm in fright. As Y/n's eyes scan the room, she noticed that Harwin was standing on the outskirts of the fighting crowd, and Rhaenyra was nowhere to be seen. Lyonel, who just so happened to be standing near his daughter, heard Y/n cry out to him.

"Father! Where is Princess Rhaenyra?!"

With one movement of his head, Lyonel ordered Harwin to move. Y/n could only watch as Harwin rolls his shoulders and forced his way into the crowd, fighting off lords throughout the chaos and pushing his way through until Y/n lost sight of him. Within minutes, she spotted a white dress being risen up over the crowd, and eventually, Harwin pushes his way out of danger, with Rhaenyra thrown over his shoulder. Harwin brings her to the King's table and when no one moved to comfort her, Y/n breaks away from Alicent and gathers the princess into her arms, trying to tame Rhaenyra's shaking body. Rhaenyra clings to Y/n like a lifeline as the crowd grows silent, small gasps of horror shushing over the crowd. As people back away and give each other space, the King's court is finally able to make out the horrific scene.

Due to obvious reasons, Laenor and Rhaenyra were married that very same night, with no one else around but the King and his family, the Knight of Kisses' blood still splattered over the throne room floor.

~~~~~~~~~

Ten years pass, and it felt as though Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Y/n became strangers to each other as time passed on. Between three children born from each woman though everyone seems to forget Daeron, switched alliances, and the King's disintegrating health, Y/n has learned to move on and treat her once entrusted friends as just her Queen and her Princess.

Even though Y/n was still her handmaiden, Alicent began to grow distant from her once close friend. By the time those ten years came around, Y/n was nothing more than another servant girl to Queen Alicent. Y/n Lannister wanted the days when Alicent trusted her with advice and secrets back more than anything, and she couldn't help but feel that loss and even disgust when Alicent forced her to go to Rhaenyra after the princess just gave birth to her third son. Y/n couldn't look Rhaenyra in the eye when she spoke on the Queen's behalf to see the newborn prince, Joffrey, and was quickly sent away when she tried helping Rhaenyra dress. For years, Y/n wanted to be a part of Rhaenyra's pregnancies as she was there for Alicent's, but the Targaryen princess never permitted her to, and always sent her back to her 'precious queen'.

Y/n wasn't sure why Alicent began alienating her, but instead of finding out, she instead let Larys keep her old friend company. Y/n embraced her crippled brother as the Queen's spy, despite not approving of it. She didn't want Alicent to feel lonely, so at least she could still find a friend in Larys. Y/n just let them be.

As for Rhaenyra, both Harwin and Laenor filled in the roles Y/n could not be for the princess. Over the years, Y/n entrusted the two men to care for Rhaenyra in her place, and they always felt the need to report back to Y/n. It was as though Harwin and Laenor understood Y/n's motives were genuine and they wanted her to feel as though Rhaenyra was still a part of her life as she is in theirs. Harwin even spoke to Laenor in secret once, telling him about the relationship between Rhaenyra and Y/n. As someone who understands what it's like to love someone you can't have, Laenor was kind to Y/n and treated her like a friend, always informing her of Rhaenyra and her children's well-being.

From a distance, Y/n loved Rhaenyra and Alicent's children, almost as much as her own. Y/n and Tyland Lannister had two sons and one daughter, Gerold, Lyonel, and Rohanne, all with hair like their father and eyes like their mother. Despite not being the Lord of Casterly Rock, Ser Tyland was highly respected among the King's court and so were his children. Therefore, they had lessons besides all the royal children. The daughters sang together and the sons often trained together in the yard. It felt peaceful, in a way, despite Alicent and Rhaenyra side-eyeing each other. Along with Y/n, people began to call the women the Three Mothers. Y/n didn't want a part of that title, already tired of the whispers she hears about the Greens and the Blacks in the King's court. No matter who asked her, Y/n's answer was always the same.

"I am nothing but the Queen's handmaiden."

Peace suddenly came to an end when Lyonel Strong decided to take his son back to Harrenhal after Harwin attacked Ser Criston in the training yard. Lyonel kissed his daughter goodbye with the promise of returning soon. As for Harwin, Y/n hugged her brother as tight as she could muster, half hoping to break Ser Breakbones' ribs so he would be forced to stay. Harwin kissed the top of his sister's head as he bid her farewell, "Send letters as often as you can. Write about your children and how they're managing."

"Every day," she promised.

Harwin laughed quietly, his expression heartbreaking. Y/n understood why, but didn't say it out loud as he whispered, "Promise me you'll look after the boys and their mother."

His sister nodded in understanding, so he left without another word, afraid of watching Y/n shed tears for him.

That was the last time Y/n ever saw her father and brother.

Word got back to King's Landing about a fire that set Harrenhal aflame around the same time Rhaenyra took her family to live in Dragonstone. The deaths of Lyonel and Harwin Strong brought the Red Keep into a week of mourning in black. Y/n was beside herself, distraught and mourning the death of her family members. Larys, now the Lord of Harrenhal, barely bats an eye at the news and didn't ever visit to comfort his little sister.

Alicent, however, became kind and gentle to her old friend, as if the years of alienating Y/n never happened. The Queen was strangely sincere and comforted Y/n when she needed it the most. What was meant to comfort Y/n, however, only brought a dreading and chilling sensation to the back of her neck. Every inch of her wanted to pull away whenever Alicent touched her as if her body had a mind of its own, but she forced herself to keep still and let Alicent be her friend once again. The returning friendship continued even as the royal family traveled to Driftmark to pay their respects after the death of Laena Velaryon. Y/n left her husband and children and traveled with the Queen herself.

It was like hitting the last nail in the coffin for Lady Y/n. Tensions were high during Laena's funeral, but it all came to a head late that very night after Lucerys attacked Aemond with a knife, leading to the loss of the Targaryen prince's eye. Rhaenyra continued to lie and defend the legitimacy of her children's parentage as the reason behind Luke attacking Aemond. This terrible occurrence led to Alicent demanding an eye for an eye, much to Y/n's horror and disgust. Even if Rhaenyra's children were bastards and they attacked a prince... Y/n couldn't find it within herself to care. Those boys were not just Rhaenyra's sons... they were Harwin's as well. Y/n never wanted harm to come to her secret nephews, and she made a promise to her late brother to protect his family.

When Alicent took King Viserys' knife and attacked Rhaenyra, Y/n's first instinct was to hold Jace and Luke back, despite their screams and cries for their mother. They buried their little faces into Y/n's skirt, scared to watch as their mother fought for her life, all the while Y/n cried and begged Alicent to stop this madness. Alicent and Rhaenyra's true colors were shown that night, and Y/n's heart was completely shattered.

After the attack, Rhaenyra was rushed away to be tended to by a maester, and Y/n took the boys to be with their mother. Lady Y/n even stayed with the small family as Rhaenyra was stitched up, neither woman saying a word to the other. Y/n felt reluctant to tend to her queen that night, but duty demanded her to do so, forcing her to leave Rhaenyra and her sons. Rhaenyra watched Y/n leave the room with a heavy heart, calling out to her as she reached the door.

"Lady Y/n... thank you."

Y/n could only nod to her old friend before leaving for the Queen's temporary chambers. As she entered, Otto Hightower, the newly regained Hand of the King, was leaving. Y/n bowed her head to him and closed the door once he left, not saying a word as she moved to help Alicent undress.

"Stop," Alicent ordered, her eyes hard as she watched Y/n flinch under her gaze, "You shielded Rhaenyra's sons... you sided against me."

"I meant no offense, Your Grace," Y/n whispered, unable to meet Alicent's gaze, "I acted upon my motherly instincts to shield a child from further harm... that's all."

"That's all?" Alicent lets the room linger in silence before making her accusation known, "How strange that after your brother's death, you started to dote on the very children suspected to be his bastards."

Y/n's eyes spring up and firmly lock onto Alicent's, "Princess Rhaenyra's sons are Velaryon, Your Grace. I believe that."

"Name your proof."

"Their grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, is half Baratheon. Black of hair runs in the blood of that family. Lord Laenor may have Velaryon descent from his father, but he also carried that dark hair trait from his mother and onto his sons. It's the only explanation."

"So you don't believe your brother sired these children?"

"My brother was many things, Your Grace..." Y/n's voice broke as she recounted her recent loss, letting out a shaking breath, "A dishonorable man wasn't one of them."

This answer didn't satisfy Alicent. It only angered her. She swiftly turned away from her handmaiden, "Go. I'll tend to myself."

Y/n bows despite Alicent not noticing, turning to leave the room. She makes it to the door before her inner demons took over. Slowly, the Lady Lannister turned back to face her queen, "Your Grace... was it my fault you and Rhaenyra became disheartened? If I had done anything different... all those years ago, would you two still love one another?"

The room fell silent apart from the crackling of the fire. Alicent stubbornly keeps her back turned to Y/n as she slowly, coldly, spoke with the regency of a queen and not a friend, "Whatever thoughts you have in mind, Lady Y/n, squander it. Don't ever ask me that again."

Y/n sucks in a sharp breath, blinking back tears, "Then it's true. What Rhaenyra said about your love for me was true."

Alicent spins around and spoke with a dark, threatening tone, slowly teetering into madness even with more tears in her eyes as the events of tonight come jumping back at her, "Watch your tone with me, Lady Y/n! I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms! And... and I have the power to be rid of you."

~~~~~~~~~

The day after the royal company settled back into King's Landing, the King and his court and family receive news of Laenor Velaryon's death and the marriage between Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra. Watching the way everyone reacted to this news, Y/n felt the final piece of the puzzle fall into place in her head. When she heard of the marriage herself, her mind had been made up.

Y/n asked the King if she may be excused from Alicent's service so that she would be able to leave for Casterly Rock. When Viserys appeared shocked by this request, the lady further explained that her children should spend time in their family's keep and reunite with family members from their father's side. She also reasoned that her eldest son needed to learn how to govern a keep one day, and what better way to learn than from his uncle, the Lord of the Westerlands. Viserys obliged with this request, seeing the logic behind Y/n leaving instead of the actual intent.

She packed up her children's clothes that day, her husband already waiting for them with a wagon and company at the gate of the Red Keep. Y/n ignored her offspring's pleas of staying and tried reasoning with them.

"Think about the adventures you could have with your uncle's children. Does that not sound like fun? I promise you'll love the Rock. It's going to be beautiful this time of year."

The boys groaned and dragged their feet while Rohanne clung to her mother's hand as they make it outside to the gate, the King waiting by Ser Tyland to say goodbye. To Y/n's surprise, the Queen and her children were also waiting in a line of farewell to the Lannister family, the children kindly bowing their heads to one another and promising to write. Viserys embraces Y/n and her children, even petting her hair for good measure.

"This has been your home ever since you were a girl. I would be lying if it didn't feel as though I am saying goodbye to someone like my own daughter."

A brief smile flashes onto Y/n's face as she wished her king good health before walking down the line of the royal family. She dutifully bowed to each of the princes and the princess before making it to the end of the line. Hesitantly, Y/n approached Alicent, and both women held a tense gaze for what felt like ages. Finally, Y/n bowed to the Queen, lowering her sorrowful eyes.

"I wish you good fortune, my Queen."

Alicent didn't appear surprised or impressed, her voice tight with paranoia, "Do you truly?"

Y/n straightened her posture and raised her head back up, sporting heartbroken tears in her eyes, "As I wish for Princess Rhaenyra's."

She turned away and climbed into the carriage without ever looking back at Alicent. If she had, she would've seen unshed tears swimming in the queen's own eyes, tears she would have said were caused by the wind if anyone asked, but no one questioned her emotions.

Once the carriage leaves King's Landing, Y/n's tears have dried and she instead watches the land move outside her window, occasionally entertaining her children for their long journey ahead. Eventually, Tyland leaned towards his wife, voice lowered, "I still don't know why you wanted to leave. Over the years, I learned to stop asking you since you seemed adamant about staying."

Y/n rolls her lips, forcing a sob down before it could even crawl up her throat, "I was being torn in two for a war I didn't ask for. I would rather die than choose sides."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I got carried away again. Sorry. I know I made this kinda depressing, but I was struggling over who Y/n should choose, then I decided to have the fighting over her come at a stalemate. It's like a divorced couple fighting over a child and thinking "why does my kid never come and visit" only it's actually their lover and she knows that in their own way, both women are toxic.

I guess this story is a little biased because of me. I'm Team Black, but only because in the books, Alicent is already portrayed as the enemy and her relationship with Rhaenyra is vastly different from the show. Rhaenyra is easily portrayed as the hero in the books, so it's easy to root for Team Black. However, in the show, Alicent is a more complex character and she's even likable, so I can easily see why people are Team Green. So, since I'm undecided, so is Y/n Strong/Lannister.

#house of the dragon imagine #alicent hightower #alicent hightower imagine #alicent hightower x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #got #asoiaf #fire and blood #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x alicent #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen imagine #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #harwin strong #tyland lannister #otto hightower #king viserys targaryen #larys strong #larys clubfoot #hotd spoilers

[jacespookiebear]

ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 8

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, sexual content, age gap (reader is about 2-3 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

You had awaken, in the arms of your husband, who was still sleeping with his arm draping over you. Turning to look at your surroundings, Meraxes still laid there by your side but only this time, Vermax had joined her. Mewling his love for Meraxes so loudly, laying on her back. You gave a smile to the dragons until your lover pressed his arm around you, keeping you more closer. Jace was stirring in his sleep, as much as you wanted to lay with him for the rest of the day, you were still outside— the sky was bright and clearer and you were riding off to Winterfell with Lysanna.

Realizing, you laid naked, with lovebites and bruises scattering your upper body and your inner thighs, you couldn’t stop the aching that was laying between your thighs, it felt uncomfortable and you knew you would have a hard time walking properly. You pressed your thighs together as you remembered what had happened last night, “Jacaerys? Wake up, you need a bath.” Gently shaking him awake, he refused to wake up. Mumbling and sleep talking, you could make up from that he is having a sweet dream. “My love? Rhaenyra might be looking for us.”

“I will wake up soon, I promise.” Jace slurred, moving to rest his head on your chest, nuzzling into the soft, warm mounds while breathing in your scent. “My love, please we must prepare our leave to the North.” urging him to wake up by tracing circles on his bare back, he began to groan at your words and finally opened his eyes and rested them onto your face. Mesmerized by your gorgeous lilac eyes, your swollen lips pressing onto his chin to give him a kiss. You escaped his tightening grasp and sat up to look for your clothes. As you searched for the gown, Jacaerys continue laying, watching, feeling proud at the marks he left on you.

“Jace,” he didn’t answer, his mind dozed off once he begun to stare.

“Jace!” Snapping out of his daydreaming, he looked over to your face, you appeared to be distraught and upset. “My gown isn’t here, it must have been picked up by the winds.” Realizing what you said, he sat up as well. You had nothing to wear, while he also had nothing to wear. You both were naked, with no clothes besides the coverings you both had taken with you.

The thought had Jace beginning to laugh hysterically, you were not laughing at all, not thinking this situation was funny. “Come on, love! Don’t worry. We still have our cloaks.” As he tried reassuring you, you only gave him an annoyed look. He grabbed your cloak and wrapped around you, making sure it was covering all of you. As for himself, he used his robes to wrap around his waist and you both began walking back to the castle, in shame, mainly you.

You quickly ran inside the castle, passing the knights in a split second, not wanting to let them see you clearly.

“Good morrow, my Prince.” The knight muttered, not trying to give any eye contact to Jace, who was quietly walking inside the castle with nothing but a robe tied around him, nodding towards the knight, making his way back to his chambers.

“Y/n! Your bath is warmed up and I am finished with-..oh.” Lysanna’s smile dropping, seeing you rushing to your chambers with just a cloak on. She quickly ran after you, to attend you.

You never felt so embarrassed until now, having to run around the castle, naked, might you had ran into your younger family members, you would have died on the spot. “Are you alright? Do you need-“ turning to face Lysanna, who shut the door on Jace’s face by accident. Immediately opening the door and saw the half-naked Prince.

The Lady Stark stared in terror, turning away to not watch anymore. You heard her letting out a screech, you rushed to bring him inside. “Forgive me, Liz! I’ll meet you in your chambers.” Ushering her to leave your chambers, she closed her eyes as she nodded, considering that would be for the best. Turning to give you a quick hug while Jace gave her an awkward small wave before she left.

Looking over to Jace, who seemed to find this whole situation rather hilarious. “That poor girl,” you mumbled, reaching by the vanity to grab the bath robes for you and your husband. “She will remember this for a long time.” Removing your cloak off your shoulders before wrapping yourself in the silky cloth, you placed Jace’s by the tub.

“I am sure she will forget,” your husband spoke, feeling bad for how indecent he was in front of your lady-in-waiting, you helped him in the bath, letting him sink in the heated water. You started to wet his arms and shoulders with a sponge that was placed by the tub. “In few days of traveling, she will see her family once again, I recall from my youth that was what Lysanna always wanted.”

Offering him a kind smile from the memory, you continued to help him bathe, sitting by the side of the tub, you noticed some sand still stuck to his skin so you quickly rinsed it off by pouring water onto his skin and rubbing it off with your hand. You grabbed some more water for the sponge to soak up, “A sweet thought, husband.” you responded, dancing your fingers over his open hand, your lover watched you as you carefully touched his palm, the one he cut open during your wedding ceremony, it seemed to have Jace reacted from how he slightly flinched from your touch, meaning the wound was still sensitive. “..Sorry..”

“Will you join me?” your lover suddenly asked, turning his head to face you. You tried to smile, you didn’t want to take longer to dress, wanting to already be out traveling to the North. Wanting to kindly refuse him, but his eyes were pleading, his pleading eyes had always worked on you. You could never say no to him when he uses them against you.

Reluctantly nodding as you sighed in annoyance, standing up from your spot on the floor, you unwrapped your robes off your body and folded it before placing it by his robes, carefully dipping in the tub that was already too small to fit more than one person, the water was rather hotter than usual but it was relaxing, you could see the steam floating above the water. Sinking more into the water, you let Jace guide you to lay on him, relaxing your head on his shoulders.

“Perhaps we should not take long,” you suggested, focusing on how he pressed kisses on your shoulder, his palms rubbing across your arms before they traveled to cup your breasts, your breath hitched. It was enough to make you feel nervous, “I don’t wish to make Lysanna wait any longer, my love.” Urging him to finish bathing, bringing your hands to hold onto his, which were still massaging your soft mounds.

While you made the effort to try cleaning the both of you, his hands continued to explore your body. “Is it wrong for me wishing to spend time with my wife?” He teased, pressing a wet kiss behind your ear, you scoffed at his question, you moved away to directly face him, bringing water to wet his hair and rub your hands into his head to massage the soap while he sat back and let you do all the work.

“I never said it was wrong,” you grinned, “but it is our honeymoon as well. Once we arrive, you can spend as much time with me.” promising him as you wiped the suds off his face. Jace finally agreed, pressing a kiss onto your lips— pulling away so you could climb out of the tub with him. You helped dressing him with the attire that Lysanna picked out that was appropriate for the weather in the North. You wore a comfortable gown that had similar designs to his attire, it’s material was suited enough to stay warm from the cold, adjusting your glove until you heard a knock on your chamber doors before opening that it revealed Lysanna who still wore a blush on her cheeks.

“I only wanted to bring news,” the look on her face was different, she usually wore a look that possessed positivity and assurance but she looked shy and embarrassed— clearly she did not want to speak of what she saw witness earlier. “The boat is ready to depart. A carriage is waiting for me on land once we arrive.”

Offering her a nod, smiling to the Lady, “Thank you, Liz. You should have left without us, we will be arriving on dragonback.” Walking towards her, linking your arm with her as you let Jace trail behind you both.

Lysanna only shook her head and smiled back, “I wanted to leave with you.” you both walked to the study hall to bid farewells to your family along with Jace. Rhaenyra placed a sweet kiss on your foreheads and hoped you would all have a pleasant stay.

“Could you bring back gifts?” Rhaena asked while Luke clinged to Lysanna, you could see tears stains on his cheeks, not wanting to be parted from Lysanna.

Reaching over to place an arm around Rhaena, she happily accepted your hug. “I’ll bring you too much gifts, your father will hate me for spoiling you so much.” Hearing you say that, Daemon let out a laugh, he was too awkward with farewells but still gave you and your husband an nod.

“Write to us once you arrive,” Rhaenyra ordered, “I want to know you had a safe arrival.”

“Of course, sister.” you answered, but still it took much reassurance from Jacaerys that he will write to her, she was still having concerns with the trip but still let you head outside of the castle. Your sister was very scared something might happen. You were heading days away from Dragonstone, it was a terrifying thought. Rhaenyra rubbed her growing stomach, watching you climb on top of Meraxes to be properly seated, as well with Jace and Vermax. Lysanna had made her way to the boat, waving to you.

Patting on her neck, signaling her to arise in the air, with the ground rumbling beneath you—Meraxes began to move, you turned to give a last wave to your elder sister.

“Please..come back to me safely.” Rhaenyra whispered to herself, trying to not stress herself even more, knowing it was bad for her and the unborn child. Watching you and Jace ascending with your dragons, she only had continued doubts clouding her mind about this trip.

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You noted how cold it was in Winterfell, the snow falling from the sky, watching it fall on you and Meraxes. It was beautiful, the sceneries were mesmerizing as you took another detour around the land. The lovely trees powdered in snow and the ground crunched as Meraxes landed on the pathway to Winterfell, the sounds of Vermax’s roars filled your ears, the dragon lazily laying by the gates now happy to see Meraxes arrived. She had already been tired from the cold weather and now didn’t want to deal with the tiny clingy dragon. Seemed your husband had already arrived before you, you sure did take your time exploring the North once you had entered. Presumably took rather a bit more than a week for you to arrive, especially on Meraxes who surely was huge but lacked agilty.

You stepped down from the ropes on Meraxes, rubbing her gently on her sides, wishing she could have a warmer place to stay during your time in Winterfell. You remained your focus on your dragon until Jace pulled you away from the entrance. He was wearing a different cloak, one with thick furs and had now wore leather gloves, he placed a cloak with white furs onto your shoulders, you were no longer feeling cold but could still feel the harsh breeze from your head, your nose quickly became stuffy.

You both heard mewls from your dragons, and saw the guards at the front looked afraid to approach the majestic creatures. “I worried I had lost you, but I can see you took your time.” Patting snow off your hair, with a cheeky grin. You returned his teasing with a smile. You were so happy, you couldn’t hold your excitement any longer.

“Oh Jace! Have you seen the waterfall? The water was clear as crystals! I wish to see it once more!” Happily listing what you saw during your little exploring as your arms wrapped around his, Jace listened while you both entered inside Winterfell.

The guards inside the courtyard, held the banners that belonged to your House, announcing your titles as the people before you all kneeled, you noticed Lysanna was there, right by her Lord brother’s side. Surprised to see her already here, knowing she arrived by boat but it appeared she had been here for awhile.

“Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, future Heir to the Iron Throne, with his wife, the Princess Y/N Targaryen, his future Queen Consort, second daughter of King Viserys, first of his name.”

Searching around the new area, the castle looked old but very beautiful. It held so much histories just like in Dragonstone. You watched Jace signal for Lord Cregan and his people to arise before approaching the tall man to greet him.

“We thank you for having us as your guests, Lord Stark.” Jace spoke warmly at the older man before they shook hands. They seemed to already be getting along.

Cregan pulled away to greet you as well, kissing your hand. You returned with an enthusiastic smile, clearly happy to be here. “Call me Cregan, my Prince. It is an honor to have you as our guests. I also wish to express my gratitude for bringing my sister along with you.” Lysanna happily gave you a hug.

“Lysanna has been nothing but good to us, I am delighted to be here in the North, Lord Cregan. The North is as beautiful as she claimed.” you expressed, your curiosity of the North had the Lord keeping his gaze on you for what felt like centuries, his continued hold on your hand went unnoticed by you and the others except the Prince.

Breaking eye contact with him, you made your way to greet his advisors, family, and the many many children that were all beside him. The young girls whispering to each other before you approached them, letting your husband continued to speak with Cregan.

“It’s the Princess! They were right, she does have silvery hair..”

“They tell stories and sing of her beauty.”

“Could I ever grow as beautiful as the Princess?”

You stared in awe by the little girls offering flowers to you, they sweetly shoved them in your direction while murmuring, “We grew these for you, Princess.” They were tulipa humilis flowers and usually were able to bloom in the snowy season. You read about them with your Septa, they were something you had wanted to see in the North. Kindly thanking the children before taking the bouquets from their small hands.

“Oh right! Brother, the gift,” Lysanna exclaims, turning to face her brother, who realized what she was speaking of. Immediately a servant came to your side, with direwolf pups in a basket. Letting out a gasp immediately, you carefully placed the bouquets in the basket before holding the pups in your arms as they continued wailing.

The pups started giving you affections by licking your cheeks, you could tell by the look on Cregan’s face that he was contented to know you were certainly enjoying the gifts. “Think of them as wedding gifts, my Prince. My sister had told me of your wife’s fascination for direwolves.”

Jace turned to watch you hand him one, the squeals you let out from the overwhelming affections the pups were giving you and your husband. You were holding onto the white furred direwolf who possessed deep blue eyes, as Jace held the black furred in his arms.

Your husband couldn’t be angry, though you both already have dragons but you were happy with the gifts. Jace felt himself beginning to warm up to the small pup in his arms, petting it gently while keeping his focus on the Lord Stark. “They are a kind gift. Your thoughtfulness is well appreciated, I can assure you.” He responded, as he begun to think of a name for the direwolf. Cregan let out a laugh and gave Jace a pat on the back.

The children watched from how you presented yourself, cooing softly at the pup in your arms, “May I suggest a name for the wolf pup, my Princess?” A little girl stepped up and approached your side before the rest of the children followed in pursuit, all began playing with the direwolf that you placed on the ground.

“Her name should be Astrid! It’s a northern name for beauty.”

“Are you mad? She should be named after a Goddess!”

“Let her be named Snow!”

“Those are all lovely names, my sweetlings.” kneeling besides the children, you and Lysanna were watching the small pup chase the children around the courtyard. Looking over to Jace who held a genuine smile, rocking the pup in his arms like he was a babe.

You began appreciating how well the trip was already starting, the snow continued falling as you started locking eyes with a girl. Around the same age as you, possessing dark brown hair and brown eyes very similar to Lysanna and her brother although she wore less fine quality clothes than the Starks. Offering her a smile, she turned her head to look away, seeming to have been embarrassed to be caught staring at you.

Your husband’s hand reached to hold your arm, making you snap back to reality. You looked at him with a dazed look before your face softened, turning to Lord Cregan, who offered a friendly smile. “Let us rest now, my love.” Jace affirmed, you were understanding that you would retire to your chambers now, it was beginning to become dark afterall.

“Oh,” You nodded, bringing your full attention towards them. “I was starting to become tired.” As you were about to head up to your chambers with your husband and the pups while Lord Cregan and Lysanna lead the way, you had waved to the children who all returned with a loud “Bye-Bye Princess!” their sweet shouts left you frowning, though you knew you would be able to see them on the next day.

“They love you, Princess.” The northern man remained a smile on his face as he spoke. “Let us have you rested for tomorrow! We will have many days until the hunt. In honor of your newly marriage. Let’s have you settle in Winterfell for now.” Nodding at his words, Lysanna beaming with excitement for the fun adventure that was in store for everyone.

Lysanna commanded the knights to bring your packed luggages, following you all to your chambers to drop off. You and your lady-in-waiting noticed how awfully close the two men became in matter of minutes. Were men so easily to befriend one another? You wouldn’t be surprised, Cregan was a very kind man from the start, his appearance may seem like he’s a man who keeps to himself but he already became quite comfortable around you and Jace after hearing nothing but good words from his sister.

You all stopped in front of a hard wooden door, much more sturdier than the doors from Dragonstone, opening up to a spacious room with a fireplace already burning by the middle of the large wall facing opposite from the large bed. Artifacts and tapestries covering the room, animal teeth laying on the table as decoration, the floor creaked as you walked inside the chambers.

“I know how much you like soft sheets to sleep on while you rest, I had my brother prepare silk sheets for the bed.” Lysanna directs your attention with patting on the soft bed, the pups seemed to follow her quickly and began chewing on the wooden corners of the bed

“That is well appreciated, Liz. Even when we’re in your home, you take such care of me.” you wholeheartedly boosted. She then shared a look with her brother— raising a brow at Cregan, which made you and Jace looked at each other with confusion.

“Perhaps this’ll be the room you will conceive your heir!”

Feeling yourself become warm at the statement, you had not expected that nor did your lover. When they saw the way both you and Jace looked flustered, Lysanna straightened herself and slapped Cregan’s shoulder from his comment. “A joke! My brother was only jesting.” Lysanna awkwardly laughed as Jace forced a smile, you were quite embarrassed enough but did not show it.

“Do not fret,” you assured, offering a hug to Lysanna, “my husband and I will surely try our best to not disturb the castle tonight.” Only trying to lighten the mood, the Warden’s laughter boomed through the chambers as he smacked Jace’s back harshly, your husband gave you a look of awkwardness.

“The Princess certainly knows how to jest!” Laughing with the siblings before they decided it was time to let you and Jace be alone, bowing their heads to you, as they left you wished them a well night’s rest.

Once the door shut, you made your way towards the luggages to find a nightgown to change into, the pups followed you and began licking at your legs. Petting them very gingerly, you hoisted them on your lap, “What shall we name them? They’ll surely make Luke and Rhaena happy.” Bringing out a beige gown, almost sheer enough that you could see the outlining of your breasts, the v neck was deep enough to have them spilling out, the length of the cozy gown stopped at your ankles and the sleeves were rather long enough to drag on the floor. It was something you would wear to rest in Dragonstone but it was rather too cold in Winterfell to be wearing just one layer of clothes, the fur blankets will surely help keep us warm, you thought to yourself.

Bringing your attention back to your lover, continuing to sit on the floor as you turned to face Jace. “Isn’t Winterfell such a beauty? I wish we could live here for the rest of our days,” you expressed, your eyes never leaving his as he walked to sit in front of you, on the side of the bed.

“My love, you only say that because we’re days away from our family.” your lover inhaled deeply, you placed you hands on his knee before laying your chin on top, looking up to him with a soft gaze.

"Not true," you insisted, Jace leaned over and begun unlacing your gown for you, "I love how peaceful the North is."

He let out a scoff from your words, a smile creeping onto his face, watching you let the dress slip off once you stand on your feet, fully bare in front of him. "We could live in a small cottage, not far from here, just us, our dragons, and our direwolves." Wrapping the dress around you, tying the wraps together before the pups could chew on the ends.

"Just us?"

Noticing the glint of happiness in his eyes, placing your hands on his shoulders, swinging your leg over him as you straddled him, leaning in slowly. "Just us, Ñuha vēzos." softly whispering in his ear before finally closing the distance between the two of you, capturing his lips with yours in a sweet yet long kiss.

You pulled away for a quick moment, helping Jace remove his heavy attire, once he was able to remove the several layers of clothing, his hands made their way on your cheeks— holding your face in his palms carefully while he took his time mesmerizing you.

"Is there something wrong, my love?" you asked.

Your lover shook his head and only placed a soft kiss on your lips, “You’re beautiful, that is all.”

Smiling at the warm compliment, his affections towards you were always verbal and sentimental. “Come here, my love.” Urging him to let you wrap your bodies in the furs, it felt soft on your skin, warmth covering your bodies as you laid in bed. Jace brought you more closer in his embrace, releasing a relieved sigh— having the chance to relax after days of traveling, now laying with you.

Being away from you for even just a moment had him in agony. He could not bear another moment without you, his hold on you was more tighter but not enough to make you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed. It wasn’t enough though, he wanted to be inside you once more. Just a few days before, Jacaerys finally had the chance to lay with you. He never realized until he actually done it, how addicting the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock felt, already became addicted to lapping up your pussy— greedily slurping in your juices.

He easily slipped a rough hand in the slit of your gown, pressing his thumb over your clit with pressure, the act certainly caught your attention, slowly opening your eyes and look down at your husband’s wandering hand.

“Jace…you must rest..” knowing his intentions, you still gave him a low whimper, he began to rub your little nub with much speed. Sliding his middle finger down your slit, his lips sucking on your neck felt blissful. “Why must I rest, sweet wife? When I could bury myself in your cunt instead.” Jace pulled away from your neck, dragging his lips down until he reached your clit. Hiding beneath the furs as you had wished to sleep but your lover had a different idea to spend the night together.

Your mouth was hanging open as your eyes were shut, his tongue wandered into your soaking folds, making your thighs lightly tremble around his head— fearing you might crush him with your legs wrapping around him, your fingers idly twirling the long strands of his hair as Jace continues to savor your folds with his lips and tongue. He groans occasionally, enjoying your delicious cunt.

You can feel your lover’s whole tongue, from the tip to the flattened sides, licking and suckling on your clit before replacing them with his fingers as you find yourself rocking a bit more forcefully against his face subconsciously. From the tight tugging on his hair, he doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, it just drives him more crazier and slides his hands to spread your ass cheeks while you continue to grind against his face, knotting both your hands in his now messy brown hair.

Bringing his whole mouth messily from your folds to your hole before pressing his tongue firmly inside your drooling hole. He digs his nails into on your ass, and you buck against his face. Your dear husband hums happily, slurping loudly— surely anyone outside your door could hear it, hearing him drink up your sweet juices.

You can feel an orgasm starting to build up. His fingers that were on your clit continues to change pace, swapping from a circular motion to side to side direction, rapidly. Feeling yourself almost coming undone on his tongue and fingers, Jace pulls his mouth off of your cunt, as you pant loudly, confused and frustrated on why he moved away. He moved up to escape from under the furs, staring up at you with your fluids smeared all over his lips and chin— you stared back with a hazy look, still panting from the act.

“Lay on your stomach.” Jacaerys ordered, the tone of his voice almost had you withering away, scrunching up the material of your gown— lifting it up to reveal your bare lower body. You tiredly moved to lay on your stomach before he gripped your hips aggressively and lifted them up in the air. The movement surprised you, left you gasping quietly once you felt the cool air on both of your holes. Without having to wet his cock, he dragged the tip down your hole, you felt like giving out. Your elbows trembling, trying not to buck.

Jace lets out a low groan and smiles to himself as he enjoys watching you struggle to keep yourself from falling onto to pillow. “Have you ever imagined us like this before? Or perhaps thought of me claiming you before we had the chance to wed? Tell me, auntie, your sweet nephew wishes to know the truth.”

You only shook your head as you tried to speak, the way he degrades you so effortlessly, like he gets off of it, you know you shouldn’t but you let out a whine at how he called you his aunt, his cock beginning to rock against you, with his fingers stroking your nipple. He waits patiently for you to speak, not daring to insert himself just yet until he had a verbal answer from you.

“Y-yes.” You manage to pant out, feeling rather humiliated at the confession and with his hand at your breast— they had easily spilled out of your gown, he twists your left nipple while you spoke, making you moan and ultimately falling on the pillows from the pleasure. “Please..”

He ruts his hips forward sharply, dragging his wet cock tip along your aching opening, painfully slow. “Please..what?”

You whined in frustration, tears starting to spill onto your cheeks. Pathetically, you tried leaning closer to gain some more pleasure, your husband only laughed at the sight. “D-Don’t make me say it.”

From your response, he decides to tease you more, certainly he was relentless. “I can’t give you what you desire if you won’t tell me.” The change of his demeanor was shocking, not even a moment ago he was whispering sweet words in your ears.

You felt his other hand come down, adding much more pressure on your breasts, grabbing at the soft mounds painfully, pulling and slapping at them. The harsh impact did not help except only making you wetter.

“Jacaerys..!”

“Just tell me what you want, auntie.”

You could feel his tip pressing on your entrance, though he wasn’t making an effort to thrust his cock inside your wet cunt, finally deciding you had enough of his teasing. “Please, I want your cock..nephew!” Your tears mixing with your sweat, moving your head to bury your face in the pillow, but instead, Jace grabbed at your arms to lift your upper body off the bed.

He moans at how you begged. The scene of having you submit to him, was a fantasy of his for a long time. He used to fantasize of sneaking in your chambers and claiming your maidenhood right then and there. Without any warning, he bucks himself into you, completely staying in there for a moment before he began vigorously thrusting in and out of your cunt. Arching your back as your eyes roll far behind your eyelids, feeling the weight of his balls against your pussy had only increased your want in pleasure, the satisfying blazing of his girth stretching your cunt once again had you almost screaming, swearing to yourself you need to be more quieter but he’s just so big, hitting all the right spots— deep into your walls, your whole body struggling to not fall back on the bed.

You dig your hands into the sheets below you, holding on for dear life as your lover continues filling your little cunt with his massive cock. Your tears had not went unnoticed by the younger Prince, pounding into you so mercilessly as he leaned forward, taking your chin in his hand to move your head to the right to press a sweet kiss on your cheek. The sounds of skin slapping filled the huge room, driving more sweat on your bodies and your slick slowly moving down your thighs. All you could think about is how much you want to embrace him.

You’re too sensitive and his thrusts are deep and too fast, seeming to miss the feeling of penetrating you. “Ohhh..Jacaerys! You feel so good.” Broken moans slip from your dry lips, the room filled of more erotic noises and vulgar words. Clenching tightly while his cock squelches into your heat. “Fuck!” you cried out, his other hand moving to rub your helpless clit, it was too much for you.

“Oh- fuck. I won’t last long if you keep clenching me.” Jace sighs, reaching to tug at your long silvery curls, pushing you down into the bed— speeding up his thrusts, quieting your screams into the pillow, afraid that you might wake the whole castle.

He forces your back to arch even more, enough for your breasts to press down on the sheets, never losing his pace, greedily driving himself deeper and deeper, almost enough to hit your cervix. Just as you were about to give out, feeling yourself almost blacking out, you finally reached a powerful climax that had you removing your face from the pillow that was now stained with tears and drool, your body shuddering as you curl your toes, your legs shaking— you continue to clench around his cock, he pants and shuts his eyes as Jace spills himself inside of you, making sure to push his cum deep inside to not waste a drop.

Jacaerys continues to empty himself in your leaking cunt, you turned to face him, he was red faced and his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, the sight was too good, hoping to save this memory of this, not wishing to forget how ridiculously hot he looked. He caught you staring at him with half-lidded eyes and affectionately, he moved down, resting himself on your back while smothering sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your waiting mouth, using his tongue to explore your mouth while drool was spilling out of the corners of your mouth.

“I love you.” Jacaerys whispers, you nodded at his words, slowly processing what he said as you comfortably laid back down on the bed. Seemingly you tend to be quiet as a mouse after reaching your peak, his soft cock moving out of you but immediately you whimpered at the loss of his cock, protesting for him to stay inside you by rocking your hips. It was adorable to Jace, he leans again to place another sloppy kiss and slowly rubs your nub until your cries and whimpers fades and turn into soft mewls.

Your legs still prompted up in the air with your knees on the bed, you press your thighs tightly, trying to relief the loss of his cock while the mixture of your juices and his cum oozes out of your pussy, you felt aroused once more from the memory of him roughly fucking you. Though you were sensitive and exhausted, you pathetically whined loudly, wanting more after your very long session that you and your husband just had.

All thoughts of having another go at lovemaking was thrown at the window once you heard the pups by the window started howling..loudly. You lifted your head to witness the small direwolves bring their head up in the air and howl until their hearts were contented.

“Will they continue all night?” you muttered, annoyed to see them starting to scratch at the glass. Your husband moved to bring a cloth and began cleaning you up as usual, bringing your legs down so you could properly lay under the soft furs, he laughed at the sight of the pups.

As he wiped you down, you moaned at the pressure he applied with the cloth against your entrance, fixing your gown as well before he reaches to find his night breeches to wear. “They’ll stop..eventually.” Jace told, happily climbing back into bed and melting into your touch.

Smiling at your lover, you pressed a lazy kiss on his forehead, reaching to push his bangs away. “Was I too rough? Do you need anything else?” Jacaerys leaned into your touch, appeared worried for you but you only shook your head and brought him close to your breasts, laying his head there as he wrapped his hand around your waist.

“No, it felt good..” you breathed out, tracing random shapes on his back, soothing him with your light touches. “Though,” you spoke up, making Jace look up with a brow raised at your questionable look.

“I believe I have disturbed Winterfell..” you whispered, rather feeling now embarrassed. Jacaerys let out a quiet chuckle, leaning his cheek to caress your soft skin. You both were tired, exhausted, and aching.

Having no energy to keep the conversation going, you realized your husband has now passed out on your breasts. With the howling in the background, you continued tracing on his back until you were able to also find sleep.

“Goodnight, my love.” you whispered, kissing the top of his head before you closed your eyes.

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I delayed writing this for some reason my bad, I got summer school now😒 but anyways I can’t I wrote more smut EARLY HAHAHA but oh well.

taglist (woohoo!): @sigynxlokiwifelover @l-3-e @audigay @urmomsgirlfriend1 @cold-v0dka @cookielovesbook-akie @theoriginalwife000 @xoxovenusquinn (would not let me tag u) @ghalakgx (would not let me tag u) @neenieweenie @classysassynabitsmartassy @generousbearwolflight @gariben @si1versamurai @deltamoon666 @aemondssiut (would not let me tag u) @thelastemzy @ryantryan6969 @topazy @starogeorgina @infinitleyethereal @speedypeter @dramaroomrat t @potatolady189 (would not let me tag u) @zzz000eee @parkchaeyoung1997 @jaehyunyah @hxtd @a-anselina

#young and beautiful fic #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys targaryen x y/n #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys targaryen x you #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon x y/n #house of the dragon x you #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys fic #jacaerys smut #jacaerys targaryen smut #jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys targaryen fic

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Love & Duty - Prologue

PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen!fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

WORDS: 2,356.

SUMMARY: After years that felt like an eternity, Rhaenyra pleads for her elder sister, Daella II to return, as King Viserys’ health continues to deteriorate. Talks of the succession to the Iron Throne are in question, and other matters concerning love and duty... 

WARNINGS: disownment, swearing. 

A/N - I did NOT think I was ever going to start a series, but here we are. I really hope you guys enjoy this little snippet and the chapters to come. It’s been like the main fantasy playing out in my head since the show ended. I really hope this isn't a fail, I still try to finish my series even if its not a fan favourite, but we’ll see. Really hope you guys are excited for this!!! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS GOOD OR SHIT!

The House of the Dragon was unworldly, a house unlike any other, created from the dark magic of fire and blood, the only thing that could tear the House of the Dragon down was itself…

Princess Daella II Targaryen, the eldest daughter of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn, sister to the Realm’s Delight, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, had abdicated her birthright as the ‘rightful’ heir to the Iron Throne. Many men of the realm, old and foolish, did not argue in her decision, for ‘how could a woman ever dictate the fate of the realm’. Others defeated against her cause to abdicate, woefully accepted the princess’ decision. Ultimately in the end, Daella had decided in accordance to herself.

Her father, King Viserys, enraged by her sudden decision, found it inexcusable, all these outbursts and confrontations, for the sake of love…

“Love Daella, love is the death of duty. Heed my words you foolish little girl!” Viserys had spat from atop the Iron Throne, his voice like venom, vexing at his eldest, first born daughter for her unorthodox decision against his rule.

“The path that you have so ignorantly chosen has never been done before, Daella. And what I intended for you, for your future, proclaiming you, a woman, as my heir, has neither been done either! And yet here you stand, tormenting me, after I vouched for you against the realm!”

A sudden, swaying movement of her father’s hand against the metal material of throne, sliced a gash of his hand, a trickle of blood oozing out slowly. Viserys winced at the sharp pain, his daughter instinctively took step forward, before stopping herself. An internal, root in herself wanting to help her father, as they exchanged a fleeting glance at one another. However, the reality set in and the contempt returned.

It was true however, many a lords having done obeisance, following the King’s decree, accepted Daella as his proclaimed heir.

“Father, I did not ask for this! For any of it! And yet, you, you are the one that burdened me!-” Daella shouted in return, the fury and agony a molten mess palpable in her broken voice.

Withdrawing a deep breath in, Daella regained her strength and courage to talk, her fists tightly clenched at her sides, Viserys’ eyes observing his daughter’s defeated state, and yet he remained in denial, anger only fuelling him.

“I have made my decision, Father… And that is my decision alone.”

Silence had befallen the throne room, and it felt like the world outside had gone silent too, as it awaited for something, ears pricked up on the outside walls.

As Daella met her father’s rageful eyes, she’d never noticed how dark, how desolate and haunting the throne room appeared in this hour of the night.

“And all for some man, who knows no honour, who owns no titles or lands. Who knows not what he has ignorantly led you to sacrifice?”

“My love, Father, is mine to give to whom I will… For I shall warn you, duty can also be the death of love.”

The final look she’d taken in of her father was a bitter and brutal one, indeed. He’s face shocked, yet wounded as Viserys mistook her words for a threat.

Turning her back for what would be the last time in what would feel like an eternity, Daella the Defiant, as many had come to notoriously name her, walked away from the Throne, her father and all the responsibilities that came with it. As the hot tears swelled in her eyes and treacled down her flushed cheeks, her father’s hostile words that echoed the hall as she left, would haunt her memories from that day, echoing in her mind, only for his voice to grow fainter, more quieter as time passes by.

Vile names, he spat and hurled towards her: whore, incompetent, irresponsible child, “not my daughter.”

Just as Viserys relinquished his eldest the right of being his kin, Daella burst the throne room doors open with such force, only to come to a sudden halt, as her eyes focused on the sad sight of her grieving, and heavily pregnant mother, Aemma, and her younger sister, Rhaenyra, whom was clinging to her mother’s arm for support, fighting back the tears.

“Daella, please-” Her mother wept, unable to speak coherently nor finding the strength to finish her plea, reaching her shaking arm out as she took a step closer towards her eldest daughter… She was so much like her mother, Daella. Her twin, most individuals of the realm who’d come to see their likeness, would admit the undeniable similarity between the mother and daughter.

Daella’s eyes now puffy, from the tears she had shed and stroked off her flustered face, her lilac eyes grew mournful as she knew she could no longer stay, nor was she welcomed to. Her time in Westeros was at an end.

Tearing her focus from her mother to Rhaenyra, Daella strode towards her youngest sister, planting a long, desolate kiss on her smooth forehead, as she stroked her platinum hair strand aside, cupping her youthful face.

“I am sorry, Rhaenyra. Please... Forgive me.”

And without a second more to spare, Rhaenyra unable to muster the words to speak, Daella was gone.

House Targaryen stricken with loss again, and yet it would not be the last for the years to come...

Aemma fell to her knees, clutching her swollen stomach, in agony not from the babe within, although a mother grieving the loss of yet another child in a manner no parent should.

Disownment was a terrible thing, many believed it dishonorable, a bad omen. Daella would be shunned from the realm, no where to go for many would defend the King, out of devotion or fear, regardless. 

A Targaryen all alone in the world…  

Rhaenyra remaining unrelentlessly by her mother’s grieving side, her hand grazing her back tenderly, she could no longer resist the urge to cry. Her tearful eyes peeling from her mother and towards her father amidst the Iron Throne, Viserys could not bear the sight ahead of him, as he turned his gaze towards the stony ground. Regret, shame or pure ignorance, no one would ever remotely come to know how the King felt in that precise moment.

All that was known for certain, was that many would look to Rhaenyra as the potential heir…

****

What felt like an eternity, equated to a mere 20 years. Word of Daella’s whereabouts and doings had been speculated continuously, whispered across the realm since the night she had flown away from King’s Landing on the back of the Silverwing, the old she-Dragon, whom was once ridden by the Good Queen Alysanne. Yet no whispers of Daella, reached the ears of the King, for he refused to hear of her. No one had dared to mention nor utter her name, for the King had countless lords’ tongues cut out following her departure, who dared to ask. Viserys completely disregarded Daella’s existence. As time progressed, Viserys grew weak rotting with disease, many thought the King had forgotten her entirely, as his health declined, this proved greater. Since Rhaenyra had been declared as heir to the Iron Throne, gaining once again obeisance from the same lords and families across the realm that had originally bent the knee to her sister, she was the Queen to Be. Upon great news, was also followed by tragedy.

Queen Aemma had passed, an untimely death the realm would unitingly agree. Within the short span of a mere few years, the agonizing experience of losing one child and losing another to the Stranger, following a gruesome and horrific childbirth: Aemma’s will to live had been dismantled, damaged beyond repair. Viserys was once again, struck with heartache, as the deceased babe was a boy, one he had dreamt of for the entirety of his reign. Despite, Viserys himself, having given the order to have the maester surgically cut his late wife open from the belly, grasping at the chance that the babe could be born alive and unharmed, did not go accordingly. Having lost Aemma and the babe, Viserys guilt tortured him, and the denial was evident, for reaching such a low point, he had attempted to pin the blame of Aemma’s tragic death on Daella. Rhaenyra couldn’t bear the scrutiny and constant distasteful remarks towards her sister, she has argued many times with her father only for him to shut her down, using his authority over the Princess.

For some time, Rhaenyra was furious with her sister’s haste departure, leaving her to grow alone with people she did not trust. And yet overtime, she’d come to accept her sister’s reasons, for she had fallen for a man herself, the intense feelings of such passion, practically consume you, Rhaenyra admitted to herself.

Many times, she’d attempted desperately to contact her sister, without her father’s knowledge. Her Uncle, the Rogue Prince Daemon assisting her in her endeavours, with traders and travelers from across the realm, some reliable and others that sought for a costly price, seeking out the lost princess. Once they had received word of a possible location, neither would have thought it possible...

“Old Valyria? I thought the island was forsaken, deserted after the Doom?” Rhaenyra questioned her Uncle. Daemon rarely often showed his surprise, although this moment was inexcusable. He could not deny, the idea of a Targaryen rooting to their roots was empowering. Although, impossible he thought.

“During Jahaerys’ reign, he had everyone in the realm forbidden from traveling to it, although some people reluctant, fueled by curiosity or stupidity, you can decide… Would continue to pursue it. It seems your sister is no different. Although, unlikely Nyra.”

An internal, undeniable urge to mount Syrax and fly, on the minor chance, the slim possibility, that her sister was indeed alive and well, thriving off of the abandoned remnants of such a cursed place.

Many times, this urge would overcome Rhaenyra, and yet she could not bring herself to it, burying these impulses knowing her duty reaches far beyond her own desires. Reminding herself she was the heir, she could not abandon her duty nor torture her father anymore than what he has already endured. Regardless, over the years she had sent many detailed letters to her sister, anyone sailing that was willing or dared to make passage to the Doom, nor through a raven that was brave enough to fly or trained to travel in such an isolated direction. Regardless, she sent countless letters over the years, and despite not having received a single response in return, Rhaenyra remained optimistic of her sister’s survival and possible return.

She could recall all the minute details from the night Daella left, as though the event only happened yesterday.

“Father has remarried to Alicent Hightower… She has bore father a son, Aegon, just like the Conqueror” … “The Queen has bore father a daughter, Helaena”... “And another son, Aemond”... “Another, Daeron.”

Nonetheless, in some soothing and therapeutic way, Rhaenyra felt that writing to her sister was what kept her sane throughout the lonesome years she’d endured in her youth. The comfort and security her sister had provided her in the short years she had with her, remained embedded in Rhaenyra’s heart.

“I am now a mother, dearest sister. Three beautiful sons with my husband Ser Laenor Velaryon. I miss you, sweet sister. I hope that one day you write back to me, tell me of your adventures since the night you’d left, and of any possible nieces and nephews I might have and hope to meet…Love always, Rhaenyra.”

That would be the last letter Rhaenyra had sent for a while. The conspiracies that followed surrounding the paternity of her three sons, Jacerys, Lucerys and Joffery, would torment her for the meantime. The Hightowers, adamant on asserting Aegon II has the rightful King was underway, and Rhaenyra, alongside her Uncle Daemon, were to prepare for such discourse. This distraction, led them away from the real threat that was to present itself in the short years to come…

However, returning to King’s Landing, word of the King’s deteriorating health began to grow plain in sight. Rhaenyra had only just returned to Dragonstone, before she felt the sudden instinct to alert her sister.

“My dearest Daella. I have not written in a while, forgive me. Since I have been decreed as heir, many a lords of the council and even the Hand, Otto Hightower, himself, wish to undermine me. I need your help. Daemon and I cannot do this alone. You left me this responsibility, which I will uphold in your honour, however, return the favor of this burden I had accepted from you long ago. Father is very unwell, Daella, if you do not see him now, you will forever regret it, as I’m certain you have with Mother… Please, remember the night you left, what you said, how you felt. I am begging you, return to me my sweet sister.”

Rhaenyra was writing to a ghost, Daemon oft concluded. He had attempted repeatedly before, to convince Rhaenyra to surrender to the idea that Daella was still truly alive and well…

****

[Somewhere far across the Narrow Seas and beyond the Free Cities]

“Mother, what is it?” Y/N anxiously asked, the gentle smile disappearing on her face, for she was the first to notice her mother’s sudden yet silent departure from the supper table.

Silence had befallen the tower, overlooking the desolate horizon of the greenery that had now flourished from the ashes sunken below the canopy. Unknown creatures screeching from beyond the wild. 

“Daella-” Another a low, manly voice echoed across the room, chairs screeching on the stony ground, as her eldest arose walking over towards his mother’s side.

“My sister… Sh-She has written again.”

The unnerving silence drenched the room again, although this time it did not need to be probed. Daella slowly turned to face the family before her, each member lined and sat carefully across one another, sharing short, anxious glimpses at one another, across the long, oak table.

“Lentor [Family]...We are to return to Westeros.”

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen angst #aemond targaryen angst #aegon x reader x aemond #aegon ii x fem!reader x aemond #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen fluff

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (5)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: I slept all alone but you still wouldn't go

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Mentions of sexual acts but no actual smut in this one. Drunk Aegon. Obsessive Aemond is plotting murder.

Sorry this wasn't up yesterday like I originally planned, but this is by far the longest piece I've written for this series. We're getting closer and closer to the drabble that started this whole thing. I hope y'all enjoy what an absolutely obsessed and unreliable narrator Aemond is!

Dinner, you decide early into the evening, is a fucking disaster. The only reason you stay through each course is because you love your grandsire and your mother. If it weren’t for them you would’ve gone back to your chambers long ago (or better still, not come at all). Better to be alone than under the watchful eyes of your uncles.

Aegon specifically is more than eager to stare at you the whole night from his seat across the table. Aemond isn’t as obvious, but you can still feel the intensity of his gaze when he does look your way.

“A toast,” your mother stands and raises her cup in her father’s direction, “to our king and to the future of our house. We’ve three betrothals to celebrate tonight. Jacaerys will wed Baela and Lucerys will wed Rhaena.”

Two matches you’ve seen coming for years, whether your mother had married Daemon or not. Once upon a time you believed your future to be just as straightforward as your brothers’, but that all ended the night you failed to save Aemond. Your once secure future went up in flames when he lost his eye at Luke’s hand.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Aemond turns to you. He wears a thoughtful expression on his face, gentle flames from the fireplace casting shadows here and there on his skin. He’s grown tall and handsome since the last time you saw him. A pity his mother hasn’t found him a match yet.

“And the third?” King Viserys looks between you and your mother expectantly. “Who have you found that could possibly be good enough for our dear Aemma?”

“Robert Tyrell,” your mother announces.

You’ve met Robert exactly three times and each time he’s been an all around pleasant, gentle, and handsome man. It could be worse. He could be worse.

But it would still be a lie to say you’re excited about the match.

You are your mother’s daughter after all, and you love your freedom.

The scrape of Aegon’s chair against the stone floor pulls you back to the present. His cheeks are red from either wine or anger or both, and his fists are balled at his side as he stands.

“Robert Tyrell?” Aegon spits the name between gritted teeth. “You’d marry Aemma to that fool?”

You stand almost immediately, not understanding why you feel the need to defend Robert, but doing so anyway. “Robert is a good man. He’s loyal. And sober.”

You look pointedly at Aegon’s cup. You’ve watched as servants refilled it four times through the last hour. He knocks it to the ground, stalking around the table so the two of you are chest to chest. You can feel the heat of him through your clothes and it feels like your skin is set aflame when he grabs your wrist.

“He’s an arrogant prick who could never keep you satisfied.”

Jace wedges himself between you and Aegon, prying your uncle’s hand from your skin. “Never touch my sister like that again.”

“And what will you do about it,” Aegon goads.

Surprisingly, it’s the King who demands Aegon to go back to his seat. “Enough! All of you be seated! Now!”

You bow your head and do as instructed. Aegon hesitates, but ultimately goes back to his side of the table. Jace follows suit.

Through this whole interaction, Aemond has been watching you closely. He watches the way your lips quiver at Aegon’s outburst. He watches the way your expression darkens when your marriage is mentioned.

You don’t want it.

The marriage.

Of course you don’t want it. Why would you? You’re meant for Aemond to claim and no one else. Aegon can say whatever he likes, but Aemond knows the undeniable truth. The two of you are meant to be. He’ll kill the Tyrell boy if he has to. Make it so his body is never found. He will do whatever he must to make sure you end up in his arms.

Aemond forces himself to look away from where you sit, joking with your brothers (another inconvenience he’ll need to do away with) and tunes back into the conversation Rhaneyra is having with their father.

“He arrives in King’s Landing tonight. I would like the marriage to take place within the week.”

Viserys nods wearily, pain clouding his eyes. “That will be arranged. With this I will take my leave.”

Everyone stands as the King leaves, but it isn’t long before chaos descends again.

“Does no one question how quickly our dear half sister wants this marriage performed?” Aegon, deep into his sixth glass of wine, folds his arms over his chest. “Is it because you’ve heard the servants whispering? Have you heard them discussing how the drunkard prince defiled your precious daughter? So you marry her off to the first name on your list.”

“Aegon,” Alicent hisses.

“No, Mother, I’m right. By all accounts Aemma is mine and I will have her!” He smirks, looking over at you with a glint of madness in his eyes. “I’ve already had her. Why not save our dear princess any shame and let me take her as a second wife?”

Daemon tilts his head, appraising Aegon. “I’d feed her to a dragon first.”

You can feel the tears prickling at your eyes, but you refuse to cry over Aegon. “You’ve never cared for me, uncle. Not truly. Not the way I cared for you. I’ll admit to my mistakes, but I’ll be damned if I ever repeat it. You’re nothing to me.”

Aegon swallows thickly. “Aemma-“

“Don’t.” You push away from the table, away from your family, and leave.

There are sounds of dissent when Aemond follows you, but he doesn’t listen. You’re hurting and that’s all he can focus on. You need him.

“Aemma,” he calls out. “Wait.”

You turn and Aemond is struck by your beauty once again. He wonders briefly if he'll ever tire of it. Of you and the way the moon casts a glow over you, making the tears trailing down your cheeks shimmer. Your lips are swollen, begging to be kissed, but he knows now isn’t the time. He’ll only take you once he’s tied up all the loose ends.

But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around you when you fling yourself into his chest and sob.

“I’ve ruined everything!” You cling to Aemond, needing some kind (any kind) of comfort. “Two bastard sons and a whore daughter. I’m supposed to be the one who never steps wrong, so my brothers can never be questioned. I threw all of it away for a moment with Aegon of all fucking people.”

Aemond isn't all that surprised you're going along with Aegon's lie. You've always done your best to protect the wastrel. He loves that about you as much as he hates it. You're dedicated to those you love, and he's certain you'll be absolutely devoted to him. You've always been devoted to him. It's your one weakness.

"There's no need to worry, sweetling." Aemond rubs your back as he speaks, loving the feeling of your soft skin under his calloused hand. "None of the lies matter."

You blink up at him, confusion clouding your teary eyes. "Lies? Aemond, I haven't lied. Aegon and I... we..."

Aemond shushes you once more. "You're protecting him like you always do. Like both of us are forced to do. It's admirable, but you don't need to think much on it. I'll take care of everything. Trust me."

He misses the suspicious look you give him, too focused on memorizing the shape of your lips and how you'd never willingly give them to anyone but him.

Because you're his.

You're his, you're his, you're his, you're-

"I think I would like to sleep now," you tell him as you disentangle yourself from his embrace.

"I'll escort you to your chambers."

"That's really not necessa-" You crane your neck to look up at him. "You remember the way? It's been years."

Aemond nods. "I remember everything."

He doesn't say the obvious: I remember everything about you. He doesn't think he needs to. The understanding is there in your eyes.

"Take me to bed, uncle." You slip your arm through his, forcing the two of you into motion.

Aemond says nothing as the two of you walk down the stone corridor, portraits of ancestors watching carefully. No, he's too busy playing your words over and over in his head. You're toying with him. You have to be. You have to have known how your words could be taken, and you have to have wanted him to take them that way.

What a naughty, lovely little dragon you are.

"I told you I remember," Aemond finally says, breaking the silence when the two of you arrive at your chamber door.

You hum thoughtfully. "So you did. Goodnight, uncle."

Aemond doesn't want to let go of your hand. He wants to keep hold of it and drag you the other way to his room where no one would think to look for you. He wouldn't fuck you yet- he's not the animal that Aegon is. He can wait until the two of you are married. You would be completely safe with him. Completely hidden.

But Aemond isn't the animal Aegon is.

So he lets go and says, "goodnight, niece."

He steps back and watches you disappear behind the heavy oak doors, the scent of your perfume lingering in the air. Oranges and cinnamon. The same as it was when you were children-

"Aemma!" Aegon's voice cuts through the quiet evening air and Aemond curses beneath his breath. Of course Aegon came to cause more trouble. "Aemma!"

"It's been less than twenty minutes, brother. How have you gotten more drunk since then?"

Aegon waves a dismissive hand at Aemond and balls his other into a fist, ready to bang on the door of Aemma's chamber.

"Don't," Aemond says, grabbing Aegon's wrist. "You'll disturb her."

Aegon's eyes are unfocused as he looks at his brother. "Who are you to stop me? If I want to go in there and bend her over a table right now, she won't stop me. Maybe if you ask nicely I'll let you get a taste-"

Aemond grips the front of his brother's tunic. "We've been over this. You need to leave her alone."

"So do you," Aegon bites out. "She'll never belong to either of us. We're too evil. Too depraved."

"Go to bed, Aegon." Aemond loosens his grip and shoves Aegon away from the door.

The brothers stare at one another for a heartbeat, each of them daring the other to move, but no one does. Aegon eventually relents and slinks off to his own room, leaving Aemond standing guard at Aemma's door.

Clearly you need protection.

Clearly you need need Aemond.

So he settles against the wall across from your door and keeps watch for the night. His mind reels with ways to dispose to Robert Tyrell and ways you'll thank him for it. Maybe a kiss, maybe your hand in marriage, maybe you'll even get on your knees and suck his cock with that pretty mouth of yours.

It's that image that sears itself in Aemond's mind, and that image that spurs him on to find Robert Tyrell just as the sun breaks over the horizon.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Speak now (Alicent Hightower x Reader) 

Summary: Alicent is not too sure of how she feels about you. Or about the fact you just proposed to run away. But she is sure about how she feels about the wedding. 

Warnings: Canon typical angst. Mature language. Violence. Screaming at Viserys. 

Requested: Yes! Enemies to lovers + Alicent. Not answered in the original ask because it contained two requests. 

Alicent stayed kneeling before the statue of The Mother. She paid no mind as Rhaenyra and you exited the Sept. The two of you were little more than a pair of heathens, in her eyes. Neither took seriously the worship of the Seven, believing in your foreign gods. 

Not her, though. She knew her duties. 

“Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned by pride in my abundant evil iniquitous and heinous thoughts.” 

And Alicent had. One would say, being the daughter of the Lord Hand himself and a close companion to the Princess, she was the most envied maiden in all the Kingdoms. Men praised her beauty, she was often called the prettiest girl at court. 

But as of late, Alicent had started to experience what most girls her age experienced when looking at her. And it was all because of you. 

A daughter of Corlys Velaryon, your arrival at court had come at the prompting of the King himself. He was looking to remarry, and who was better suited to the task than the eldest daughter of one of the last houses of Old Valyria? 

Everyone praised your grace and intelligence. You were nowhere nearly as beautiful as Alicent was, or so her father said. But you had the striking coloring of the Velaryons, and knew more languages than she could count. Light as a feather on your feet, dexterous as a hawk on your dragon, there was no way Alicent could compete. 

Rhaenyra had eyed you with distrust, then. She hated the idea of you sweeping in and taking her mother's place. Alicent, though, had been secretly relieved. Her father's plot had been trumped. 

The King had asked to take a walk in the gardens with you, one morning. You had gone, nearly shoved towards it by your father. Whatever it happened during that walk, you had both come back changed. The King, deathly pale, and you, triumphant with a grin like the sharpest steel. 

Your father had been angry, but had not dared to pull you from court. No, because whatever you had done to deter Viserys had cemented you as Rhaenyra's most trusted companion.  

Alicent had started to envy you, then. What was it about you that made you so fearless? Why could you say no to a man like Viserys? Her father said you had ruined your chance, but to Alicent, you had not. Instead, you had done the brave thing and fought for your freedom. And not only that. You had won. 

She wished she could be a little more like you. Women never won, in her experience. Not Rhaenyra, not her. Not even her mother, not even the late Queen Aemma. What made you so special? Whatever it was, she wanted it.

Rhaenyra just loved you. She praised you constantly, and asked you to go everywhere with her. Even, where Alicent couldn't follow. You had a dragon. An awful, ill-mannered beast that had the foulest temper. Just like her owner. Rhaenyra and you spent the mornings flying and playing chase, while Alicent remained forgotten on the ground. 

Every time you entered a room, Alicent's blood boiled. She felt as if she was on fire from how much the thoughts consumed her. She hated you. She hated you. She hated you because she wanted so badly to be you. 

With no one to divert King's Viserys' attention, Alicent found herself cornered. Her father said it was a good thing, that the King realized he didn't need a spirited wife. You were a wild, willful maiden, with teeth as sharp as the ones on your dragon. Were you made Queen, you would have bled Westeros dry. Alicent was much better suited to the task, meek and subservient as women should be. 

But if she was all those things, as her father said, why did she feel such rage? By the Seven, when you were near, Alicent wanted to scratch your face to shreds. 

Envy. It was envy and it was a sin. She often tried to remind herself of that, when she saw you parading around the Red Keep, surrounded by Rhaenyra and a round of age appropriate suitors. 

It didn't work to calm her heart. 

“Are you still in here?” Your voice brings her out of her contemplation. You stand at the entrance of the Sept, a quirky little smile on your face. "It's been quite a while.” 

Alicent looks at the candle she had lit, when the three of you had come to the Sept earlier this morning. It's burned almost completely, only the smallest piece of wick and wax remaining. She has stayed here for hours and barely noticed. That strong of a hold you had over her thoughts. 

“Evidently.” Alicent answers, tone harsh. Your face drops slightly. 

“I didn't mean to disturb you. Rhaenyra is looking for you, that's all.” You are not even that pretty. Alicent is much more comely. Your features always glimmer with a hint of intellegence that's just not proper for a lady of your station. 

“I'll go when I am ready.” 

You leave her alone with her thoughts and the sparks of the fire. If you were a better person, perhaps you would have stayed. But you are not, so you run off as always, chasing whatever inane pleasures you are always up to. 

Not even a week passes before that awful announcement. No one tells her. She finds the same as anyone else. Rhaenyra's look of betrayal is etched into her memory. 

She isn't quite sure of what to feel. Alicent knows this is a great thing, she will turn into the most powerful woman in the realm. Nothing could bring her house more honor, there is no greater achievement of her duty. 

At the same time, she is terrified. King Viserys is not the kind of man she ever dreamed of marrying. Alicent had hoped for a groom closer to her age. The fact that he is Rhaenyra's father makes her skin crawl with disgust.

When she had thought of marriage, she had always envisioned it as being like what her parents had. Alicent remembers the times when her mother was alive, how her father had tended to her, how much he had mourned her. That was true love, she had thought. True love a thousand times. A love so powerful her father never remarried, never even looked at another woman. 

But while Viserys was old enough to be her father, he was not half the man Otto Hightower was. Instead of remaining in proper mourning, he had started making arrangements immediately to marry another. 

Even your sister, tiny Laena Velaryon, had been considered. Alicent had found out because of the hell you had raised, when she was sent on her own walk with the King. You had screamed at your father until you went hoarse, and received a hearty slap as a reward. Not even that had stopped you from looming menacingly at the entrance of the Red Keep, watching them with hawk's eyes. Viserys had decided he would not marry her either. 

What was it about you? Gods, Alicent knew she should be the happiest maid in Westeros. Her father's plots to secure a future for her had been well rewarded, she was about to do her duty in the most spectacular manner. No longer would her father have to fear for her like yours did. The most important man, the one blessed by the Gods themselves to rule Westeros, had chosen her. Yet, Alicent still envied you. 

It made no sense. You could not be in a worse position. You were spinning out of control, or so everyone said. First, it had been the rejection of the King's advances, then the screaming match with your father. There was a certain strength in your rebelliousness, though. You braved the rumors with your head held high, strolling through the halls of the Red Keep as if you owned the place. 

Rhaenyra was never far from you now, either. That, too, she envied. Before your appearance, they had been thick as thieves. Suddenly, she was all about you, and none about Alicent.  This marriage proposal had been perceived as the ultimate betrayal, and she didn't seem to believe Alicent when she had tried telling her she had not known. 

You tried to go on with your normal routine regardless. Every time you got the chance, you tried reuniting Rhaenyra and Alicent in one room. You must get a lot of enjoyment out of seeing Rhaenyra yell at her because once more, you had organized for the three of you to have tea. It was not going well. Or it was going very well for you. Alicent could not tell. 

“You could have refused him.” Rhaenyra slammed her hand against the table. Unperturbed, you stared between the two of them. 

Alicent felt the urge to scream and scream and never stop. This was terribly unreasonable.  But instead, what came out of her mouth was…

“He is the King!” 

“He is my father!” And with that last shriek, Rhaenyra was out of the parlor. 

“He never asked.” Alicent growled, slamming her own hand on the table. She couldn't afford to scream, less the guards hear. But she surely felt like it. 

You sprawled back on your seat, an amused expression taking over your face. Alicent wanted to slap the smug look off your face. 

“He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.” 

“He asked you?” Alicent's head turns. Of course he would. You were so important, after all. So freaking perfect. So learned and special. Oh, how she wanted to grab you by all that pretty hair and tug. 

“I said no. And I said I would rather die than marry him, for he was as old as my father and a bad man, who would sacrifice his wife as if she were a breeding bitch…” It is as if once the words start tumbling out of your mouth, you can't stop them, blurting them without a care. There is a strange look in your eyes. “And then I said I would feed his limp dick to my dragon if he ever tried to force me, and raze his fucking Kingdom to the ground.” 

Fear. You are scared, Alicent marvels. Scared of Viserys. Just as she is. Your words are feverish, you seem to be drowning in them. Like you need to scream, and scream and never stop. 

“And his guards didn't say anything?” She says, still in disbelief at your words. 

“Oh, I said it all in High Valyrian.” It's not even funny, but it cracks both of you up. Alicent realizes, startled, that perhaps you are not so bad after all. 

A few days pass before you come to her again. This time, you are wearing riding attire, sweat making your hair flatten against your skull. You are so much like Rhaenyra in that instant that Alicent's heart stutters. 

“I have been thinking about your problem.” You say, perching next to her in what surely you believe to be extreme daintiness. You are also the sort to think her dragon a baby, so it's not like it's unprecedented. 

“Excuse me?” Alicent frowns. She wasn't aware she had a problem, much less that you were intent on fixing it. She had thought her hatred reciprocated.  But was it? Suddenly, all of your interactions are in a new light.  All of your snide little comments, all of your interruptions. You had never been trying to argue, you had been trying to befriend her. 

“Run away with me.” You whisper, grabbing her hands. “Don't marry him.” 

Alicent stumbles back. What you are suggesting could be considered treason. Perhaps you did hate her after all. 

“Why should I trust you? You might be plotting my ruin.” 

“I might. Or I might be saving you from the worst mistake of your life.” 

She only thinks back to your proposal on the day of her wedding. Alicent spends the days leading up to it in a state of such nerves she can barely think of anything beyond how doomed she is. Your words don't register as an actual possibility. 

Alicent's father says she is the most gorgeous bride he has ever seen. He says she looks just like her mother did on her wedding day, that he is making him proud. And she clings to that. But it's not until she is entering the Sept and sees you on the front row, clapping, that she breaks. 

You stand in a blue gown, clapping almost aggressively. Her eyes search for yours, as she is about to say her vows. 

You stare back. You arch an eyebrow. 

“I am…. I can't do this.” Alicent drops her cloak, gathers her skirts, and runs. She passes you and grabs you by the arm, forcing you to run too. You catch up quickly. 

The guests stare. King Viserys opens and closes his mouth. 

“What..?”

“Alicent!” Her father screams. “Come back here, you foolish child!” 

“Good for you!” She can almost make out Rhaenyra's voice, from the crowd. It only pushes her to run faster, harder. 

“Hurry, before they recover!” You scream, pulling her even more. 

The two of you share your first kiss hours later, with no one but the endless ocean and your dragon as witnesses. 

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[sl-ut]

months apart

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader 

description: aemond was less than happy when y/n was married off. now that he has her back, he’s decided that he’s never going to lose her again. (reader is the daughter of an unnamed oc–the younger daughter of viserys and aemma).

warnings: nsfw (no smut), swearing, mentions of death, incest (its hotd what do you expect)

words: 2.2K

date posted: 13/11/22

valyrian translations at the bottom

The sky was painted red, like the stone beneath his feet. 

A coincidence? Most definitely, though it certainly felt symbolic when he thought of the red that had tinted the snow just outside of Winterfell eight days prior, and he found himself wondering whether or not the same sky hung above her own head thousands of miles north. He could only picture her, a young widow in all black beneath the bloody heavens; The vision of a true Targaryen. He longed to lay his eye on her once more–the months had passed slowly without her by his side, and now she would return to him as if she had never left.

He’d smiled when he received her letter, and laughed as he read it. The wedding had been painful for him, watching her take a husband in his own home, watching him take her to their marital bed and mount her gently, as one might with a maiden (though she was no maiden, which he took great pride in). He beat a man half to death that night, only stopped by Ser Criston, and he silently wept the evening after he had watched her disappear into her wheelhouse and over the horizon. Then, her letter reached him in the months following, and he laughed at the news that her husband had not only been killed, but had been butchered on his route back from the nearby brothel. He hadn’t been worthy of her, and he never would be.

She spoke fondly of him in her letters, assuring Aemond that he was kind to her and never seemed to grow angry with her. She told him that he was a good man, though not as good of a husband as she might have dreamed of, as he spent many nights in the brothels, and when he did come to her bed, he was usually so intoxicated that he could not perform his husbandly duties. She also assured him of her regular consumption of moon tea, writing in fine penmanship that, I would bear no man’s child but yours, my Aemond, to which his breeches tightened as he rushed to find some ink and parchment to write out a passionate response.

“Aemond,” His mother spoke firmly to grasp his attention, “Have you been listening?”

He turned to glance over his shoulder at her, though he did not pretend to care, “Yes, mother.”

She sighed, clearly understanding the fact that he certainly hadn’t been, but continued on anyways, “In three months time, Princess Y/n will finish her mourning period in Winterfell and will take her leave. Princess Rhaenyra has insisted that her niece spend time with her in Dragonstone before returning to the capitol, which the King has insisted upon.”

“Why must she?” He demanded, turning entirely to face her, his silver locks sliding over his shoulder majestically, “Our sister is welcome to visit if she so please, but there should be no need to extend the princess’s journey from one dreadful place to another.”

Otto Hightower scowled as he watched his grandson’s clear displeasure, “There is little need to do so. In light of the king’s current condition, it would be in the best interest of the realm to prevent any unnecessary conflict in his presence. Princess Y/n will spend four months in Dragonstone with her aunt before she returns to King’s Landing.”

Aemond scoffed, rolling his shoulders as he stood straighter and stared menacingly down at his grandfather for a moment before pushing through the doorway and rushing off to his own rooms. 

Of course Rhaenyra would steal her away. She was possessive of their niece, being the only child of her twin sister, who tragically passed of the sweat three months after giving birth. She coddled her, promising that she would always be welcome at court when she became queen–yet another thing that Aemond felt he was being robbed of. Rhaenyra made it clear to everyone that she was unhappy with the close nature of the relationship between her niece and brother, and was very pleased to see her married into a powerful ancient house to a kind man, despite the fact that she would be so far away. If Rhaenyra had it her way, Y/n would arrive on Dragonstone and never leave, perhaps even marry her off to either Jacaerys or Lucerys if it meant that she was kept out of Aemond’s reach. He would die before either of those bastards lay a finger on her precious flesh. 

He received a letter from her upon her arrival in Dragonstone, smiling as he broke the seal and read her detailed account of the journey. He grinned when he read her words, I count the days until we meet again, my love, and he found his fingers hurriedly unlacing his breeches as he read over and over again, and I count the seconds until I am returned to my rightful place in your bed. 

Four months passed even slower than those before it, and Aemond awaited anxiously each day to see any sign of his beloved over the horizon. His mother scolded him for doing such, insisting that he could spend his days doing something more useful to both himself and the realm, while Aegon teased him endlessly for being so caught up in her skirts. The days when it rained or was simply too foggy, he spent in the training yard or riding Vhagar, though there were very few moments when his mind slipped from her oncoming arrival. 

And then, as he forcefully struck down yet another stable boy, pridefully unarming and throwing him to the hard earth of the training yard, horns blared. His ears perked at the sound, his blunted blade dropping from his grasp as he made haste back to the Red Keep, where he would make himself clean for her–how could he face his love in such a state of filth?

When he was cleaned, dressed in a soft velvet doublet, and scented with a spiced cologne that he was sure she would like, he found himself anxiously pacing the length of the front gate. His family soon joined him, as well as most of the more important courtiers as the gates opened, allowing a short parade to enter before a large wheelhouse rolled in. 

Aemond wanted to shout in displeasure as handmaidens began to file out of the carriage, wishing them to simply hurry up so that he might be graced with the pleasure of her appearance for the first time in just over a year. He wanted to beat away the guards who aided them, to push through the crowd and find her himself, to damn each of the worthless souls who were unfit to be in her presence, to–there.

His chest tightened as he found her amongst the crowd. Her hair was braided away from her face in a style he’d never seen her wear before, and she continued to wear black silk in mourning for her late husband, which he frowned at. Her eyes locked on him, flesh darkening as a blush took over her. 

“Granddaughter!” the king announced, feebly stumbling forward to greet her. She caught him in her arms, though she allowed him to present himself to be the one holding her up, not the other way around, “I was so very sorry to hear of the death of your husband. You would have made a wonderful Lady of Winterfell, but alas, my heart sings with joy to have you returned home.” He lifted his gloved hand to her cheek, “You mirror your mother more than ever before.”

Alicent stepped forward, a hand grasping her husband’s arm gently, “Princess, I hope your travels were well.”

Y/n smiled tightly. She had always been courteous with her step-grandmother, though she had been influenced by her aunt’s displeasure with her, especially after the conflict at Driftmark that had resulted in the loss of Aemond’s eye. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” She spoke clearly, “Winterfell was quite beautiful, but I’m afraid I am not quite built for the cold. The journey only allowed me to get used to the warmth once more.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” Viserys chuckled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead joyously, “A dragon need not readjust, fire is in your blood.”

“Come,” Alicent extended her arm to her husband, “The king must rest, and you must be dreadfully tired from your journey. Ser Criston will take you to your chambers.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Y/n curtsied, her eyes glancing over across the bored expression of Aegon, the dazed stare of Helaena, and finally the longing stare of Aemond. She could not continue down the line to little Daeron, as the singular violet eye narrowed at her, a nonverbal signal for her to go with Ser Criston. She nodded at him slowly before turning towards the knight and allowing her ladies to tug her along into the palace. 

Aemond dined early that evening. He waited impatiently in his chambers for the sun to go down. His fingers itched to rush to her chambers, to kiss and touch her, to love her and give her the children that he knows that she has long awaited. He longed for her time of mourning to come to an end–though he would argue that her husband was hardly worth mourning–and to take her as a wife. Finally, he could not wait any longer, and found himself sliding through the hidden passage from his rooms to hers, discreetly pressing himself into the wall behind a narrow tapestry.

Her ladies were buzzing about the room, putting her things away and preparing her for bed. Aemond narrowed his eye in the darkness, allowing it time to adjust before he began to search the room for his beloved, who he easily spotted near the fire, hair damp from the bath and dressed only in a robe made of fine green silk. He admired the slope of her neck, the shape of her lips, and the curve of her nose. He missed being granted the opportunity of gazing upon her beauty, and if he had it his way, he would never lose that pleasure again. 

She glanced at her ladies, smiling gratefully at them as one offered her a goblet of wine and tentatively taking a sip, “I wish to go to bed now, you all may go.”

He watched as they filed out of the room, staying in his place in the shadows as the door closed shut and eyeing her as she downed the rest of her wine. 

“You may come out now.”

He smirked as he finally crept out of the shadows, eagerly pouncing on the chance to view her in plain sight, “Green suits you, niece. Much more than black.”

She chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at him, “I am in mourning, uncle. Or have you forgotten that I have become a widow?”

“Forgotten?” He scoffed, pouring himself a cup of wine and carrying the pitcher over to refill her cup, “I have celebrated every day since.”

She hummed in response, “You should not speak ill of the dead. He was kind to me, a good man. He was–”

“He was a cunt,” Aemond knelt before her, “Unworthy of you.”

“And who is worthy?”

“No one,” He murmured, “Not even myself, and yet the gods bless me with your affections.”

The prince slid his hand up her calf, fingers caressing her flesh gently as she set her cup aside, taking his hand within her own. Heat sparked beneath her touch, leading him to glance back up at her. Her gaze was warm, longing for him in a manner he had never experienced.

“Funny, isn’t it?” She glanced down to her lap, “It has been just more than a year since we’ve last sat in the same room, and yet it feels like a lifetime. How we’ve changed in these months.”

“Se yet nyke zālagon syt jeme keskydoso,” He kissed her knee, setting his own cup aside to stand before her, using his grip on her to help her do so as well, “This year has been painful for me.”

“To me, as well,” She grinned, “Eman missed ao.”

She pushed up on her toes to nudge his nose with her own, coyly pulley back as he leaned closer and growled at her. 

“Do not tease me, my love,” He whispered to her, “I wish nothing more than to take you to bed and fuck you until morning. Do be warned, I will not be so eager to allow you rest, I have waited a year for you.”

She exhaled, lips brushing his, “I would be otherwise disappointed.”

He grinned, eye closing as their foreheads rested against one another. Finally, after months of longingly waiting for her letters, restraining himself from flying north and stealing her away, and relying on the pleasure of his own hand, he could have her. And he was sure that this time, he would not let her leave. She would be his bride.

For the first time after months apart, their lips came into contact, pushing together furiously as her robe slipped off of her shoulders, and his hands eagerly led her to the bed, sure to make good of his words.

translations: 

se yet nyke zālagon syt jeme keskydoso – and yet i burn for you all the same

eman missed ao – i have missed you

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon spoilers #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen