pairing: aerionxstark!readerxvalarr
Synopsis: Raised within the Red Keep alongside Princes Aerion and Valarr, Lyanna shared a deep bond with Aerion before his sudden departure left her believing she had been forgotten. Years later, his return forces her to confront the feelings she never lost, while Valarr’s devotion leaves her torn between a love from the past and the life she is bound to.
warnings: eventual smut, language, love triangle, kissing, biting, angst/slight comfort, kiiinda ooc aerion, Reader’s stepfather is an asshole.
A/N: my first ever fic hehe good luck reading this, reader’s character is inspired Sansa stark (I love her to death), probably a lot of historical inaccuracies, alsooo not entirely proofread. Enjoyyy
The fire in the hearth crackled low, the only silver of warmth you could cling to was slowly dying out. still, you were not given the blessing of retiring to your bedchambers for the day. Your step father did not cease his ramblings of how you’d turned down every betrothal he’d set for you, be it against your will or not, curse your insolence.
“It is settled then.” He hummed with torturous simplicity, finally setting his goblet down, were you not on the verge of insanity, you’d be impressed of how he was speaking clearly for his intoxicated state.
You shot up, not ready to give your life away so easily. The news of your betrothal shattered any last bit of composure you had left. your mother, it seemed, had other plans.
“Sit down Lyanna.” She hissed, knowing of her husband’s temper, but more than that she knew yours.
“I shall not sit down! You’ve finally married me off, is that not what you’ve wanted all this long? To rid this place of me. It’d be a blessing wouldn’t it!? I will leave then! Good fortune to you lot.” Your stepfather, in all his drunken glory, could only hiccup and laugh to himself of how you’d prided yourself on being so ‘completely undesirable’.
The last thing that was heard was the sound of your chair scraping against the floor as you stormed off, and drunken grumbles of the ‘lord of winterfell.’
the doors to your chambers were slammed shut with the last of the help scurrying out, you weren’t a cruel person, but even they knew not to be anywhere near you when you were in a sour mood.
You leant against the door, willing yourself to be composed otherwise your mother would become a widow yet again.
Your father was beron stark, the late king in the north, the only man you’d truly die defending. You remember the day he passed just as if it were yesterday, the halls of the red keep you’d finally began to familiarize yourself with, only for you to be sent back here, used as a vessel of trust between the people of the north and their new warden.
“Lyanna, open this door at once.” Your mother’s voice was muffled coming from the door. Anger had not yet completely simmered off your mind, and left a tint which colored all your current thoughts.
“I do not wish to speak.”
“I did not ask after your wishes, girl, open this door or I’ll climb through your window. Shall I fall and die, you’ll be left alone with him.”
you could picture the smile she’d be wearing proudly as you made your way over to the door, upon opening it, you stood uncorrected.
she often comforted you like this, you’d be lying on your bed with her sitting near the pillows, but your head would stay in her lap, her fingers brushing through your dark hair, a trait you knew reminded her of your father.
to say he was mourned greatly was an understatement, he was a truly honorable man. taking you by the arm, as the first lights of dawn stretched their arms and tainted the skies, and teaching you to wield and fight, you weren’t any great knight, but you’d fought well enough for a princess.
“I want you to know that I do believe this is a great thing for you, little dove, I’m aware you had no wishes to be married, and that this is against your will, but how do you plan on spending the rest of your days? Here? In this depressing castle surrounded by the guards of a man you despise? I have lived out my days, I’ve done my duty as daughter, wife and mother. It is time you do yours.” Your mother’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.
“And besides, this is no red-faced lord, this is a Targaryen prince, your friend, lyanna, Prince Valarr. Mayhaps it is a matter of your taste, but is he not charming? He is respectful and kind and it is clear he can do no harm to you. What more could you want, my child?” Her tone had dropped do a whisper now, you’d resorted to not speaking, you liked when she was like this, and you didn’t trust your mouth enough to open it.
what more could you want?
you simply nodded and she’d left you to your thoughts, turning back from the door to smile at you when she thought you were sleeping.
”you’re holding it wrong” you squinted at aerion’s grip on his wooden sword, your septa’s would scream in agony if they saw you like this. Clad from head to toe in useless wooden armor that only made you heavier and movements slower. a sheen layer of sweat clung to your forehead and your braid had come loose. to a septa, it would’ve been ‘disheveled’ or ‘dirty’, but to Aerion, he thought it was the best he’d seen you.
“It’s much easier like this.” Aerion muttered as you made your way over to him and lifted each of his fingers one by one to properly wield the sword, he ignored how he felt himself get dragged back to the ground when your touch left his,
“Father says righteousness is far more important than what is easy.”
”your father should not meet mine.” That earned a chuckle from you, your attention now entirely focused on how he bent his knees and called it a stance
“Good thing he’s in the north, then.” You muttered absentmindedly as you used the tip of your sword to shift his knees more straighter. “Stop squatting.” Your sudden seriousness straightened him immediately, slightly intimidated, though he’d sooner die than admit that.
You two hadn’t got to play much before you heard septa ellyn, the scariest and most ruthless one, call your name, her voice demanding and angry. you froze and turned back, dropping your sword to the ground and quickly trying to take off the decorative armor, it proved useless until you felt aerion’s hand grab yours and drag you to start running.
You both ran for what felt like an eternity and crept up into one of the abandoned towers of the red keep. the one where it was rumored people met the seven, you didn’t understand why it was cursed if it helped you meet the gods. The view was stunning, you saw kings landing from a ‘dragon’s’ eye as Aerion called it.
the two of you sat against a wall and cooled off, the humid air of summer in kings landing wasn’t helping at all, neither was aerion’s proximity, you both sat shoulder to shoulder while heaving and breathing hard for air. You hated sweating, how it made your cheeks red and hot, how you felt as if everything you were wearing was sent to kill you, you’d much rather freeze to death than sweat for even an hour. Aerion always loved to tease you for it, he’d said that dragons do not burn, and that the northmen knew nothing but snow. You were going to argue but decided against it with how spent the two of you were.
“We should head back now, septa ellyn will surely tell prince maekar of my doing earlier.” You whined, head dropping into your hands as if you’d carried all the misfortunes of the red keep, Aerion huffed out a laugh at your worried state.
“My father would sooner send ellyn to the wall before hearing anyone complain about you.” He grunted as he shot up and you followed slowly, walking back to the castle as remnants of septa ellyn’s red face flashed through your mind, the two of you laughed in hushed whispers that night at the dining table.
it was moments like those that were so deeply engraved in your brain, you never dared forgetting them, you’d tried countless times but something would always remind you; blonde hair that caught the light at the worst possible time just so you’d glance over and think of a particular silver headed menace or wooden swords that children would pick up before they even learnt to read properly.
it seemed as if Aerion had learnt to control time itself just to never let you forget him.
The day had finally arrived when you were leaving for kings landing, your mother was on the verge of tears for three entire days yet did not allow herself to cry until after you left, you thanked her for that deeply. Your stepfather did not care much for a farewell and you didn’t want one either, he waved his finger and the red rimmed, drunk eyes of his gave away his uninterested front, he was glad to have you gone. The ghost of his brother haunted the crypts of winterfell no longer.
as angry as you were for being sent off, kings landing was seemingly better than winterfell, sure you’d miss the weirwood tree where your father sat every morning, and the smell of a fresh coat of snow that draped over the ground after a harsh storm, you’d miss your visits to your elder brother who was lord commander of the nights watch, you’d definitely miss wandering around the godswood when you couldn’t sleep and being the first person in winterfell to hear the frail song of crows circling up above you, but you’d finally be free from your stepfathers grasp. You’d never have to see him again, or argue with him over the simplest things, he was nothing more than a stranger to you now.
upon arriving at kings landing, to say you were welcomed warmly was an understatement, Valarr hugged you, careless of the princely etiquette he always had to maintain, then there was maekar. He did not smother you into his arms, yet the look of pride in his eyes was unmistakable, he’d praised you in a way no one would’ve expected from the prince of scowls.
“Oh how you’ve grown, Lyanna, last I’d seen you..” he trailed off thinking, in momentary bliss of the past, of how you’d had a peculiar habit of being in such a rush to go explore the red keep when you’d first been there as a child, that you’d forget to put on shoes and simply patter around barefoot.
“I take it you are more acquainted with your shoes now, yes?” His voice was gentle, you both shared a good laugh.
“Yes, my prince, the septa’s never gave up.”
“You were quite the challenge for them, one would think the septa’s had seen it all after my children.” maekar hung his head low but you’d caught the twitch of the corners of his mouth.
finally you were escorted to your old chambers. The distant familiarity of it all slightly struck you. you recalled, crawling up into the window seat and watching wild horses run, and how you, daella and rhae would sit on the floor and talk about heroes and rulers, they told you of aegon the conqueror in such detail you could smell their admiration from a mile away.
you did not, however, catch that ever so distant gleam of silver-gold hair, it was almost as if he’d become a myth, no one spoke of him. the tension in the air was notable, but not the way it used to be when Aerion would walk in. You hated to admit that you’d even looked around for him, that you’d already scanned the every room to the lengths of your eyesight just to learn that he probably couldn’t be bothered, and you felt pathetic for still hoping he’d greet you warmly.
After all, what more could you except from someone who disappeared without a word to you?
one thing about the red keep was that you could never sleep well for more than atleast two consecutive days.
it just so happened that tonight was no different from those in which sleep was something you could only helplessly yearn for. You tossed and turned and fussed over the sheets in your warm chambers, the pillows were drenched in a floral scent that burnt your nostrils, the fire in the hearth was still going, still making you sweat.
Outside was not the comforting, cold air of winterfell. you would not find the weirwood trees that blossomed with every snowflake that brushed its bark, you would not achieve the isolation you sought if you left now, kings landing never slept, if anything, it only woke at night.
you settled for taking a walk in the red keep during the hour of the wolf, it was late, very late, even kings landing had quieted down now. you could finally hear the wind whisper incoherently into your ears. your father had always told you to listen, listen to what the whispers had to say, no matter how many times you’d whined and told him that it was just wind, he never stopped going on about how the trees could speak to those who were patient enough to listen.
Now, you focused on it. the sound of the wind as it coursed through the leaves of the godswood, how it waltzed with the grass, how it circulated the faint smell of cottonwood and elm around you. Slowly, The whispers were starting to make sense, they just had to be louder, a bit louder and you’d understand them. then, you felt it. The whispers went dead silent, the leaves that fell to the grass were stepped on by a heavy boot, a man.
the woody scent shifted into something sharper.
you’d noticed almost immediately, but you didn’t dare turn back, to turn back was to surrender all those years you’d spent building yourself back up, mending the wall that stood between your heart and vulnerability. You silently prepared yourself, still and cold as stone.
“Can you hear them?” His voice was not much different from how you remembered it, the one you’d last heard moons ago.
Aerion. You refused to think of him even as he stood behind you, he remained a respectful distance from you, which you’d once thought was impossible for him.
you racked your brain for something to say, but the only things running through every nerve were questions. Where had he gone? Why didn’t he tell you? Why did he leave without a word to you?
You cleared your throat, shaking your head slightly to brush off all the impulsive words that clawed at your throat for escape.
finally, you turned to him.
he looked so different, though his hair hadn’t changed much. His features were sharper, all carved from marble itself, You remember how you longed to hold his face as children.
Despite giving your brain ample time to think, it still gave you no sensible reply. You were desperate to find something now, something to say that’d make him feel like you didn’t wait a decade and more for his return.
the sadness you’d waited and prepared for never came, instead, a bitter tinge of anger and disgust seeped into your bones and slowly withered them.
“Have you no shame? Leaving me for years with nothing to say? No ravens-no letters. Nothing!!” Your voice shook with the inability to control yourself. Aerion expected no less, he knew you’d be furious, but seeing you so angry always made something warm stir inside him.
He never was much of a romantic, he wasn’t a chivalrous knight in shining armor like Valarr, he was nowhere near a kind merciful prince, but seeing you angry at him, of all people, was something he couldn’t bear to see.
Even now, after all the time you two had spent apart, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth; That he hadn’t spent a single day of his exile not thinking of you.
You were there in ashford, you witnessed the trial of seven. arguing with Aerion in the armory and trying to talk him out of it, Words were said, screamed, even. Nothing could stop Aerion from ‘proving his worth’. It was a matter of honor, not his own, his house’s honor. The glory of the house of dragons,
but where were their dragons now?
where was their glory now?
After what felt like a lifetime of silence, he shifted on his feet, he could barely keep his own emotions in check, how was he supposed to deal with yours? Your heart meant more to him than his own, but his ego was greater than all of kings landing, and admitting his love to you would burn the whole city.
“Are you still mad? Seven hells, Lyanna-“ he scoffed, shaking his head before your hand fisted in the collar of his tunic.
“Don’t.” You bit, knowing that you couldn’t strangle him even if it were your only wish in this world. “You left me here, alone, do you know what they did to my father? Do you know what they did to me?” Your voice was a whisper now. The fragility of your words was so obviously handed in rough, calloused hands that knew nothing of what to do with them.
“You told me you would never leave me, you said they’d do me no harm, Aerion, you lied!” You let go of his tunic as if he’d burnt and repulsed you at the same time.
“Don’t blame me for your father’s death, you know my presence would’ve changed nothing.” That earned him a slap to his face. You flexed your hand, realizing you’d hit him harder than you thought you could.
you expected him to leave again, flee off to wherever he’d come from and never return, instead he stepped closer, the sting of your palm a reminder of how angry you truly were. He’d always encouraged this side of you. when everyone else fought to keep it down, he always brought out those ugly feelings that consumed your body and mind whole.
“It was poison, no one believed me but it was. The boltons poisoned him in his own house, And you were off fucking some whore in the free cities.” He was silent, for what could he have said that would erase your pain? All the love, the guilt and sorrow and regret, it would only cause destruction.
you blinked hard. so hard you saw colorful shapes under your closed eyes, willing away the tears that welcomed themselves in the familiar ducts of eyes that had seen far too much.
“I did not ask for exile”
“But you so willingly left, Aerion!” You were yelling now, only twisting his thoughts further with your shaking hands. You wanted to throw him out of your mind, you wanted to fling yourself off the high hill. “You left without any reluctance as if you had nothing to lose!”
he grabbed your wrist in a desperate attempt to ground himself. His voice was barely hiding his frustration, a whisper only you could hear. The words nothing more than a breath against your ear, “Did I?”
For a moment, You didn’t dare move, it was best not to when he was mad. The revolting reminder of his control over you alone made you want to choke him.
“Why are you here?” He hissed, his free hand clamped down on your jaw now, forcing your grief-stricken eyes to his manic ones.
his eyebrows knit together. “What of him?”
you wanted to see him hurt, you wanted to see the look on his face when he realized that you weren’t going to wait on him forever.
you wanted to know if he still cared.
Never in your life had you wanted to see someone you love be aggrieved in such way, he wasn’t allowed to be in control, even though they were his hands which held you so tightly, as if you were the cure to an illness he’s suffered from his entire life
he was going to pay for his false promises and empty words.
“Answer me, woman.” He shook your arm aggressively
“Let go of me!” You snapped, his grip on you did not falter, but it did loosen slightly.
Your throat was tight, the rush of blood thundering through your ears, the wind and grass had stilled. “He’s my betrothed.” You trailed off.
he waited a few moments, tongue trailing the inside of his cheek. You knew he’d never hurt you on purpose, but you never could anticipate his actions when he was truly mad.
He wasnt exactly sure where it all went wrong again, it wasn’t a terrible thing, you and Valarr. He’d be nice to you, but would he hide the temper in you? Would he ever vex you just to see you flushed and angry? Aerion was unruly, yes, but he was not blind. he knew you were doing this on purpose, yet despite all his efforts to maintain indifference with you, he was angry.
He was mad at himself, for not telling you everything, for not kneeling at your feet and begging for forgiveness like the dog he was. He was mad at you for betraying him and marrying his cousin, a perfect man who aerion was always compared to. More than that, he was furious at Valarr, for taking what was his and only his. You’d been aerion’s since the moment you bumped into his arms as kids while running from the other kids while playing knight. The years had not altered his claim on you at all, instead, it only made him more possessive.
he didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. You knew how mad he was just be the look in his eyes, his fingers twitched on your jaw, but he didn’t move, deep purple eyes glaring into yours with a ferocity one would only find in an animal.
Then, he tugged your wrist toward him, his grip on your jaw tightened so hard you were sure it’d bruise.
his lips were on yours in a blur, ravenously devouring your mouth in a hungry claim. You attempted to free yourself from his iron grip, nothing worked. His hand moved from your wrist to lock itself around your waist, the hand on your jaw shifted to the back of your head, his fingers threaded through your wind-tussled hair and held your head in place.
Fighting back proved useless, you didn’t kiss him back but you made no attempt to give in either, not until he bit your lip so hard you whimpered at the taste of iron invading your mouth.
he pulled back when both of your lungs started to burn and you began scratching at his chest harshly for air. He leaned his forehead against yours, panting and greedily stealing all the air around the two of you. Your brain was completely blank, you weren’t exactly in the present but not absentminded either.
a sharp sting near your lower neck brought you back to reality, Aerion was biting it. His teeth sunk into your skin with thinly veiled desperation, causing you to suck air in from your teeth.
regaining your senses, you shoved his chest, pushing him out of your way and storming off. Evidence of his claim, his mark. It all made you sick. You were betrothed, to be married come spring. You couldn’t go around kissing all the princes of the realm.
by the time you’d reached your chambers, sleep took hold of you the second you closed the door. Dragging your tired feet past cold floor and soft rugs, you shrugged off your cloak and threw it somewhere, you hoped it didn’t fall in the hearth.
you wished for nothing more than to forget this. Forget everything that happened, you didn’t leave your chambers, you did not know Aerion had come back from exile after so many years, there was no aching bruise on your chest.
you didn’t wish it was him you were promised to instead.
part 2👀👀👀👀??
We’ll get more of Valarr and maybe Aerion in the next part🌹🌹
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