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This side blog believes Aemond Targaryen, as well as every character Ewan Mitchell portrays, deserves a fluffy happy ending.

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Imagine Aemond Targaryen is the heir to the throne. But to make his claim to it uncontested, he needs a wife and heir. This is where you come to the scene.
Warnings: drama, light reading, fluff; long post.
***
⢠(I) Old Rivalries.
Aemond understood from the beginning that being the legitimate heir of his father would not be enough. Seeing ahead of him, he knew the transition to his power wouldnāt be smooth.
āIt is unwise to arrest our own sister for no reason other than that she was best loved by our fatherā, he is advised by Helaena, who, by Targaryen tradition, is married to Aegon, a younger brother of them. Aemond, though always getting along with her, opted to remain unmarried.
āShe may want to reclaim my crown, though. She despises me, I see it in her eyes ever since the day Lucerys took my eye outā, grumbles the ever resented prince.
āPeace is the best way to rule well and uncontested. Besides, I may have a solution for youā, says Helaena with a rare display of mischief in her eyes.
āYou find me intrigued, sister.ā
Thus she has his attention.
*
āWhat are the chances that uncle Daemon might press his claim to the throne via right of his wife?ā, Aemond inquires the council that day.
Although his father hasnāt slipped into the unknown yet, heās surrounded by allies. Aemond must be prepared for the expected event of his life.
āIt is a possibility, however, the common folk shall not support him. Heās a disliked characterā, says his grandsire, Ser Otto Hightower. āNevertheless⦠The prince has a daughter, who has been legitimated.ā
The suggestion of a political match with his cousin is left implied. Aemond doesnāt say a word about it, though. Itās Aegon, his younger brother, who speaks his mind instead:
āYou know that Mistress Rivers will not be tolerated as your queen.ā
Again, the presumptive heir is silent. His brain, however, is doing some machination. His fingers are tapping on the table, a sign of his thoughtfulness state.
āIf sacrificing our affection is the price I must pay for my throne, so be it.ā
As long as I have whatās mine by right.
*
You land with your sisters and brothers at the capital, hoping to be as discreet as you can even though your motherās inheritanceāher red locks, as she was a daughter of House Tullyāis there to show you are not a full Targaryen like them.
You follow closely behind Rhaena and Baella, Jacaerys and Lucerys, chin raised as if pride is your only shield. In pairs their walk in, and you take the chance to sneak out there.
āCuriosity always takes the best of youā, itās the remark you often heard of your stepmother.
You are very thankful that Princess Rhaenyra took you as her own daughter even though you are the fruit of a love affair between your father and a woman of the House Tully named Lady Minisa.
Youāve never met her since she died in childbirth and your relations were relieved that you were taken by your father, so you were never acknowledged by them. Not that you cared anyway.
Youāve learned to call the princess your mother as years went by, only knowing your origins by the time you counted five years of age when you realized how different you were of them all. To be told of the truth at an early age was wise, so the scars of insecurity didnāt hurt as maybe would now.
So here you are, exploring. You still recollect how you loved to investigate some spots here and there in Dragonstoneāgoing as far as to reclaim a wild dragon, Cannibal, much to a general surprise.
Like a shadow, you graciously step in these strange corridors, smirking to yourself how to be unseen is a virtue you take pride in possessāābut itās what makes you very dangerous tooā, your father remarked once.
Until you find a tall, handsome silver haired Targaryen coming just as unseen out of the library. The one-eyed prince, enemy to your relatives, looks as surprised as you when you two collide.
āLady Y/N.ā
āPrince Aemondā, you say, trying not to look so disconcerted.
āSneaking around?ā, says he, in between amusement and annoyance.
āItās good to see what this new place is likeā, you say, rather reservedly, even though your eyes give the distrust his presence inspires you.
Aemond doesnāt shy away before the aversion he spots in your lilac eyes, your only evident Targaryen inheritance. Taking a better look at you, though, the prince sees you could pass by a Tyrell or even a Hightower relation mostly due to your auburn curls and delicate features. Thanks to his childhood provocations, however, he was soon informed that you were rather a fish out of sea.
āNew place you say as if you havenāt ever stepped hereā, muses Aemond, inclined against the wall without losing his arrogant air. You detest that his one bloody good eye is capable to make you feel small.
But you wouldnāt give in easily, of course.
āFew were the times I came over hereā, you snap back at him. āEnough to make me forget about it.ā
āAnd what brings you here then? A grandfather in name only?ā
You hold his stare. Aemond shortens the distance and you notice itās been a while since youāve last seen each other. Although you werenāt present in the odd circumstances that led the draconian prince to lose an eye, rivalries persevered through time passing.
āI am as Targaryen as you, Aemondā, you speak softly, even though your eyes remain cold. āMock me as you wish. I can handle my past well. The question is: can you?ā
In saying so, you leave him there, heart racing and hands shaking. Aemond stays, irritated by that question you left posed and unanswered, aware of his fragilities, but also⦠intrigued to see the woman youāve grown to.
*
⢠(II) Blacks & Greens.
Your red curls become an interest stark with the black gown you dress for your uncle/stepgrandsireās dinner. You tie a few locks in small braids, following your stepmotherās fashion and you take your seat by Rhaenaās side.
Aemond watches as you take your seat. It is alluring the contrast in you. Every inch a Targaryen. Even a man like him cannot deny it, as much as he wills it.
The draconian prince sees how quiet you are, barely interacting with your half siblings. It takes no more than a few seconds to understand why you take silence as your companion: it is as if you donāt belong there, amidst the Velaryons.
How to access you, though? He studies you. You speak little, except at times when Jacaerys remembers you are there and plays the role of perfect prince. So there is a brief small talk about dragons, dancing and plans for the next day.
Then heās surprised when your eyes eventually meet his. You are so caught off guard by his attention on you that even when you look away, there is some color in your cheeks. And Aemond is shocked with himself for finding out that blushing suits you well.
*
You are found dancing with cousin Daeron as music plays in the tune dictated by the old king.
āIn honesty, I was surprised youād actually take my invitation for a dancingā, says the cousin who is of your age.
You chuckle lightly. The tune is pleasant and you are content in dancing it.
āI am diplomatic, cousin. Besides I hold nothing against your personā, you flash him a smile as your hands barely touch his.
āThen itās against whom do you hold grudges?ā
āNone in particularā, you say casually but as you twirl, your eyes fall in the figure of Aemond, whoās been watching you and gives a smirk in turn.
Daeron chuckes low when seeing where your gaze falls.
āI was expecting this long time grudge would not involve you, but alas! I am as naive as itās often said about me.ā
āYou have a good heart, cousin Daeron. Do not regret it, I ask you.ā You smile again. āYou are not to be blamed for the sins of others.ā
Before the conversation goes longer, music is interrupted and it all ends with the old king standing to make announcements. You hope to cast away the sentiment of an outcast as the betrothals are announced and yours is not mentioned.
Rhaenyra inclines her hand to yours, assuring you that soon youād marry her own child, Aegon. But, you wish to argue, why not arranging Daeron for her instead?
Diplomatic like always, you nod in agreement, despite the displeasure within. Whatās to be done about it anyway?
*
When Aemond is going to ride Vhagar that night, heās surprised to seeing you with your dragon. Heād always assumed you didnāt reclaim yours, but what a shock is to find out that the wildest dragon is actually bounded to you.
Under moonlight the one eyed prince stays in quiet contemplation. And you feel his gaze. Cannibal senses your mistrust and the beast gives a glare to Aemond in a very protective manner towards his rider.
āWhat are you doing here?ā, you ask him, with your guards up. āComing to check on me?ā
āI was actually planning to go on a ride with Vhagarā, Aemond doesnāt quake in fear; positioning his hands behind his back, he steps forward to speak to you closely. āThought I was the only one to enjoy doing so at night.ā
āI see. So no businesses bring you here?ā
āI could ask you the same question.ā
You cede a smirk.
āAlways trapping me in your mind games, Aemond Targaryen.ā Then you tilt your head. āBut I donāt think a cool breeze is the only excellent advantage to fly, eh?ā
Aemond seems to study you again. You like that you are not often so evident to him.
āIs there any other reason why flying late night makes so entertaining?ā, he inquires.
āFreedom. To be untamed, free of these courtly rules that bound us to false pretenses. I like being myself when Iām up thereā, you make a gesture with your head to indicate the clouds.
āWhat pretenses do you speak of?ā, Aemond is incisive in his gaze, partly pleased that you dare to hold it, not looking away.
āYou are the ones with the brain amidst your siblings. You know the answer for the question you askā, you chuckle quietly.
But you are strangely unmoved. You dare not to walk away even if it should be the most sensible thing to do.
āI see that we come to agree on something. I do not appreciate court by all means, but I must make use of it if I want to rule well.ā
Aemond can tell that only now you come to realize that he is the heir of old king Viserys, even if the monarch has often showed his preference to Princess Rhaenyra.
āI⦠see. Well, it comes with the position. Nobles like us cannot afford a degree of libertyā, you muse with a side smirk. āThatās on you, my prince. Wish you the best of luck with it.ā
You are preparing to mount Cannibal when Aemond dares to come near.
āYou are not betrothed to anyone yetā, and here he comes, right at your weakness.
You are tying your long curly hair in a simple ponytail when your lilac eyes set on his. Thereās a maliciousness in his words and you perceive it in how his lips twirl on a small smirk.
āWhy do you care for it? Werenāt you meant to be betrothed to Rhaena or Baela?ā
āI do not concern myself with Velaryonsā, his words slip so naturally that you are almost knocked out of your seat by what those words mean.
You give him a baffled look.
āAemond, I strongly recommend you to stop right there.ā And you avoid his curious look, coming to realize how irritating it is to be under his watch, as if heās always searching for a manner to overpower you.
It doesnāt help heās grown to a fine handsome man. Gods!
The prince says nothing. He steps back, but you know heās doing so not because he is admitting defeat.
Damn. You know itās never good when he does so.
To go two steps back only means heās going forward with a precision blow.
You shake your head. You couldnāt know it. How well do you know this cousin youāve seen so little? Sooner, you command Cannibal to fly, in secrecy hoping that Aemond doesnāt fly after you.
Which he does not. Not that night anyway.
*
Dressed in green, there he is. Dressed in black, there you are. Right at the library, you sense his presence.
āDo you not have anything else to do but to annoy me at your will, cousin Aemond?ā
Leaned against the wall in his usual pose, the one-eyed prince smirks quietly. When you dare to raise your gaze off the book you read, goosebumps run over your spine, almost shaking you to the core.
āLibrary is not your property, cousin Y/N.ā Then he steps forward and takes a seat nearby. His smell is surprisingly good, and you hate it. But you cannot pretend heās not there since heās suddenly holding your wrist and taking the book out of you. āHave you considered what we talked about the other day?ā
You are frowning at him and Aemond is more than content in knowing heās the reason of your annoyance.
āWhat is there to consider when you havenāt made yourself clear?ā
āCome now, Y/Nā, the prince notices you havenāt let go of his hand and neither does he let go of yours, rather making circles around your wrist. āDonāt play coy. You are better than that.ā
āThe absurdity of the suggestion does make me wonder why me of all the ladies at your disposal.ā
As you narrow your eyes, Aemond wonders if you are aware of his liaison with Mistress Rivers.
Why should I care if she does?
āYou are not any of these supposed ladies that are allegedly at my disposalā, he snaps back, amused. āYou are a Targaryen. I cannot marry anyone else.ā
āI am half a Targaryen. A bastard fished out of the river if I recall wellā, you retort, making an allusion at his teasings back in the day where you were two younglings.
Aemond chuckles low. You stand impatient, but to your disconcert, he doesnāt let go of you. On the contrary, the prince pushes you against the wall.
āYou have a dragonā, he muses in a whisper, never quitting holding your glance. āYou reclaimed Cannibal, of all the dragons.ā
You do not understand his point, so you save your breath and say nothing. But you cannot ignore the spark there is between the two of you, the fire he lights in you just by shortening this distance.
It doesnāt help your case further that he fuels it with eyeing your chest with lust. You feel your knees going weak and despise yourself for it.
āSo what?ā, your voice comes out partly choked.
Aemond laughs quietly.
āYou have something very alluring in you, Y/N. A wit sharped as sword that is not entirely valued by those whom you call family. In pairs, you stay an outcast. I see you when they donāt.ā
Itās here that he caresses your cheek. Leaning forward, seeing you barely breathe, he whispers in your ear:
āNever forget that only a dragon can love another.ā
To your dismay, he parts from you. When he goes back, turning to the door, you realize that his absence leaves cold.
When Aemond turns, though, thereās nothing wicked in his eye and no defiance in your eyes either.
āI will marry you, Y/N. Even if I must burn the Seven Kingdoms for it.ā
You barely gasp as he leaves, missing the hole he left in you.
Fuck me. I am doomed.
*
⢠(III) Harrenhal.
You stay there in evident stunned silence as the family dinners, gathered again. Your father is the one who notices youāve been too quiet.
āWhat is troubling you, daughter? You seem off.ā
You are more than aware that Aemond, today sat by his fatherās left side, is discreetly staring at you.
āI⦠I am not troubled, fatherā, you smile at him. āI was wondering, though, if thereās any chance I can have my own household.ā
Daemon arches an eyebrow at you. Even Baela looks at you if you have gone insane. You feel your face going red.
Not making my situation better, am I?
āWhatās wrong with Dragonstone? Besides, you cannot live by yourself as unmarried lass. Quite frankly, Y/N, you are better than that.ā
Your lips tremble, you have the words, but fearful of attracting an undesired attention, you nod your head and lower your eyes to the food.
*
Aemond is practicing swords with Ser Criston Cole when he perceives a pair of eyes watching him. Knowing their owner, he smiles at himself, even though a weak shade of crimson paints his pale features.
āY/Nā, says he once Ser Criston gives him a break and is gone out of his sight. āThereās no need to hide! I do not bite.ā
You roll your eyes. In truth you tried to go unnoticed as you returned from another ride with Cannibal, but catching a glimpse of a shirtless ruthless prince denounced your position.
So here you are. Dressed in robes that reinforce your curves, much to Aemondās delight, who doesnāt conceal where his eyes wander to.
āWhat? Stop looking at me like thatā, you snarl at him.
He gives you a side way crooked grin as he steps closer.
āAs if I didnāt capture your eyes lingering on me. Whatās this, Y/N? You refuse me for pride. I can offer you what neither your parents nor siblings can.ā
You glare at him.
āDo not speak in such terms of my family, Aemond. Unlike yours, I have been well loved, thank you.ā
He tilts his head to his right and you are irritated how you are unable to annoy him by any means.
āNevertheless, you are not betrothed and you have long passed the age of such, eh? Or, if the rumors are correct, you ought to wait before little Aegon comes out of age?ā Aemond laughs. āWhat a waste!ā
You are so annoyed by how easily he knows your weakness that reason leaves you and you slap his face, getting you both surprised by this unpredicted act.
āWell, Iāve always known you were a true dragon, Y/Nā, says the prince.
āI hate you. Stay away from meā, you are about to walk off when you suddenly turn at him and spit: āWhy do you not chase your whore instead? Iām sure that she fits your liking and perhaps, who knows, a crown would look nice in her instead. But a man like you knows nothing of the matters of heart. Your ambition is your fall, Aemond Targaryen.ā
And just like that you storm off. Aemond watches you go, finally irritated by how these things are going. He had underestimated you, but the prince also sees that if this game isnāt working the way he wants to, well then, all he must do is⦠wait.
After all, Aemond is very patient.
*
You are not present at King Viserysās funeral. Under the excuse of sickness, you are left behind in Dragonstone. Your siblings protested, but you insisted them to leaveāspecially now that Jacaerys had married Baela.
Itās been three months since you last the prince who now is risen to be king. Your heart aches when you think he may take that woman as his wife and queen.
The idea of it, the game of court he made you play, annoys you so that the pretense of sickness cannot conceal the impulsiveness that, disguised as silent, often made you as the deadliest one of all your fatherās children.
Against the maids and servants efforts in making you stay, you tie your hair in a long braid before putting a sword in your gown.
Dressed in black, suiting the mourning for a broken heart you only know are forced to admit, you are about to do what no one could have foreseenānot even you: claiming the old castle of Harrenhal.
*
āLong may live Aemond, First of His Nameā¦ā so his name is proclaimed.
It took a lot of convincing and orchestrations on Queen Alicentās part to help putting her bright son on the throne. In spite of King Viserysās reluctance, and moved by the tradition that helped putting himself as the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, here is Prince Aemond now acknowledged by all as King.
The one-eyed prince, after his coronation that day, is surprised to welcome Princess Rhaenyra in the banquet offered at his court on behalf of his ascension. Nevertheless, advised by his mother, Aemond chooses diplomacy and treats her well.
However, why do I feel painfully disturbed by the abscence of Lady Y/N? Where on earth is she?
āYour Graceā, the proud princess steps forward to greet the brother whoās several years younger than she. āIt appears that fortune does favor the bold.ā
A sly smirk runs like a shadow over the new kingās lips.
āDoes it? If I recall well, tradition has been reinforced by our ancestor, King Jaehaerys, when he acknowledged our fatherās rightful claim to the throne upon which he passed to me.ā
He does not look away nor quake beneath the icy stare with which heās looked.
āGoing against his wishes would mean⦠warā, says Aemond.
āI do not think wise to suggest so, brother. Best we should do is bury the past, leave it where it isā, says Rhaenyra. āOtherwise, shouldnāt you think I offer you war when I am here pledging for peace.ā
A short moment of silence is carried between them. Brothers. Rivals. And yet⦠Aemond knows it is insensible to let this enmity cast its shadow to his early reign.
āThen I welcome you at our courtā, says he with a smile on his lips.
*
Cannibal may not be as terrifying in sight as is Vhagar, but it certainly has its presence. The howl, however, is as frightening as it is due to a savage beast as a dragon is.
Before you fly straight to the castle, you let your dragon feeds the way it sees fit. It means burning cattle and stealing sheep as well.
There is already a murmur of witnesses by the time you reach Harrenhal.
āWho might you be?ā the castle lord comes to meet you.
You are presenting yourself with the colors of your house, hair tied in one long and elaborated braid; very aware of your charms, you dismount Cannibal with grace.
āMy lord, I am Y/N of House Targaryen. I came here to reclaim my inheritance. As you can see via my red locks, I am a Tully also. Nothing in me is untrue. Let us speak. I come in peace.ā
Charming. Clever. It only takes a deadly combination of these two traits, most of which comes from your father, before Harrenhal bends the knee to you.
*
A deed that earns Aemondās admiration. The moment Lady Alys sends him a letter in complaint of the usurpation of that castle by you is the excuse he needed to fly after you.
Leaving Aegon as his Hand, he takes Vhagar and within two hours he lands there. Repelling his former mistress, the king makes his way only to find you⦠alone, in the library.
āI knew Iād find you here, little rebelā, says Aemond, amused. āThis is a very risky move you made, didnāt you know?ā
He doesnāt wait for your careless act to go on. Aemond removes the book of your hands and makes you look at him.
āIt would oppose me and your parents. A war is worth a disappointment?ā
āI am doomed if you think you can read me so well, but may I remind you I have as right as you to hold my own household?ā
Aemond smiles and you are shocked to see it rising to his eye. He pulls you by your wrists and this time you do not fight him.
āI told you from that very first day, Y/N. I see you. I do not want you just because of your looks and your blood, though I shall not deny these factors led me to youā, his hand is now on your face, stroking your cheek all the whilst he places his free hand on your waist.
You sigh.
āI hate youā, you whisper, letting your body lean closer to his. āYou are but a brat, king Aemond.ā
Aemond chuckles, slowly pinning you against the wall. His hands are going up and down your back, before gently pulling back your hair.
āYou donāt hate me, Y/N.ā His lips are so close to yours now, barely brushing over them. āWeāve never hated each other.ā
You cup his face, caressing his cheeks and removing his eyepatch. The sapphire that stares at you only reinforces the accuracy with which heās always been able to read you.
āI claim youā, proceeds Aemond, resting his forehead against yours before wrapping a hand around his neck. āI claim you as my wife, my queen, my woman. You will bear my heirs. You will rule by my side.ā
āTogether as one.ā
āTogether as oneā, he confirms it.
Then every pride dies when the hearts speak in one same language the moment your tongues pair in synchrony.
***
⢠(IV) Peace.
āIāve always said that the quietest ones are the most lethalā, says your father in the day a banquet is offered to acknowledge your queenship. āBut then again it was my mistake that I paid so little attention in your desires.ā
āI am your daughter after allā, you smile at him. āI had to find my place in this strange world and here is where you leave your inheritance in me very well disposed.ā
āA sharp wit and a sharper tongueā, Daemon laughs. āWell, I will not deny that I am pleased with the outcomes of it.ā
Your red curls are left loose for the occasion, brushed until they shine; on top of your head lies a smaller crown, sapphire made. You dress a short sleeved gown that shows some cleavage; the silk garment is black as coal but it carries the symbols of the Houses Targaryen and Hightower in it in order to demonstrate peace amidst these factions at least.
Daemon kisses your forehead before patting your shoulder fatherly.
āI am proud of you. Make your way. Rise as if it was I.ā
You chuckle lightly, eyes twinkling with pride. Then comes your sisters and brothers. Despite the jest with which they turn your situation, you know that something has changed in it.
Once they go back to their seats, you sense that familiar touch from the moment fingers intertwine. As you turn and see Aemond, who silently perceived you needed him, you give him a weak smile.
āYouāve always read me so well, havenāt you?ā
āTrue, but itās because Iāve always seen you. Youāre unlike any other. Precisely why you are here⦠and not there, with them.ā
Discreetly, your husband leads you out of all that feast, going to a quiet place insteadāwhich is the privy council quarter, a spot you are familiar with, having been instated to participate it by your lover.
āSee, Y/N, one of the reasons why I read you so well is because we are two souls very alike. We possess virtues that fit us to rule, but to make a place to ourselves in this strange world we were born intoā, says he, stroking your chin and sliding his hand before posing it behind your neck. āWe are not very understood, our tastes are despised and yet here we are. Family is⦠overestimated. They rarely see us for what we can be, truly.ā
You close your eyes, leaning to kiss his lips. Your hands entangle with his long silver locks, enjoying the moment.
āYou give me peace after spending a lifetime in war with myself.ā
*
āI didnāt expect you to be ambitiousā, your stepmother remarks when you two have the chance to speak after the feast. āBut then again you are your fatherās daughter.ā
āAgain with this, mother? Do not tell me you would act differently. Had my father pressed, youād claim the throne yourself. I am the piece to prevent a war between two sides in long time opposite.ā
This morning you two are walking side by side at the gardens all the whilst Aemond is welcoming an embassy sent by Essos.
Rhaenyra chuckles low.
āI suppose you have a point. Besides, you are the daughter Iāve never had. Iām glad we all came to terms. Diplomacy is a weapon that at times may be underestimated.ā
You give her a smile.
āSomething Iāve learned from yourself, mother dear.ā
āYou are every inch a Targaryen, sweet Y/Nickname.ā
*
Aemond watches as you rule the court with your elegance and wit. If heās reserved, you have a way to charm others around you. Such a sight to behold.
From his seat, his eyes follow every move you make, never missing you out.
āSo the plan has succeededā, and when he turns it is Helaena who comes to speak to him. āLike it was predicted.ā
āIt has surprised me in many ways, that I shall admitā, Aemond recognizes. āThis union helped secure my throne.ā
āBut you know this is not the end of it. To rule well and wisely you must be mindful of how to conduct the realm without appealing to violence.ā
The king says nothing. He throws his shoulders back, placing his hands behind his back. Then he gives her another look:
āWhat do you see?ā
āYour union has prevented a civil war to come, but until Y/N gives birthā¦ā
āWellā, he gives his sister a smug grin. āThis is not going to be a problemā
*
Aemond is watching you untying your hair just as you wear your nightgown.
āCome over here, loveā, he pats your usual seat in bed next to him. āYouāve been so quiet lately.ā
You pat your huge belly, not enjoying the weight of carrying children as you do so. Aemond wraps an arm around your shoulders, massaging each before holding you close to his chest.
āCannibal has been unusually restless. Dragons can tell when somethingās up to their ridersā, Aemond proceeds. āWhat is troubling you, Y/Nickname?ā
You cuddle against him.
āChildbirth scares the hell out of me. I would not hesitate in claiming a stronghold, in expressing my views, in following you wherever youād go, but⦠This is where I wage my war and Iām scared to lose it.ā
Aemond takes a deep breath, burying his own fears deep inside.
āYou are a cunning woman. Itās in your blood, in your flesh and bones. Fear not. You will deliver safely.ā
When you look at him in the eyes, Aemond sees how vulnerable you are. It softens him in a manner never before known. Removing his eye-patch, he holds your face with his hands and plants tons of kisses all over it, much to your delight.
āItās been difficult months for you, my queen, that I can see. What a great responsibility is to carry the heir to our throne in your belly. But let us be ourselves right here, right nowā, he rubs his nose against your cheek, pleased to make you beam. āToday we are a married couple, expecting their first born child. Given the size of your bellyā, and here he caresses it gently, āI am led to believe itās going to be twins.ā
āTwinsā, you repeat in shock. āI cannot even consider itā, you giggle. Then looking up at him with eyes twinkling with expectations, you say: āIf comes a pair of girls, though?ā
āIāll love them the sameā, Aemond smiles at you the way it makes your heart race. āWe are young and fertile. My seed is strong as you can see. Thereās nothing to fret, Y/Nickname.ā
Saying so he pecks your lips and kisses you nice and slow. Then you and him exchange ideas about names and somewhere along those lines, you fall asleep in his chest.
*
As predicted by Aemond, your husband, you deliver a pair of twins. It was a long labour, though, which got your king concerned. But nothing to worry further: mother and children are well.
āA pair of boysā, you tell him, blissfully. āDouble blessings, husband! The Gods favor you.ā
Aemond side smirks at you. Taking a seat at his side, so the king says:
āIt appears so. By the Gods. Who was born first?ā
āThe ginger oneā, says the midwife, who was cleaning the babies and delivering to him the silver haired whilst the other is being breastfed by you.
Aemond raises his eyebrows.
āWoman, we may never be accused in mistaking our boysā, says he in a jest that makes you both laugh.
āWhat are their names?ā, inquires the dowager queen, Lady Alicent, whoās been doting on you.
āAegon andā¦ā
āā¦Jaehaerysā, says Aemond. āTraditional Targaryen names.ā
It is a delightful day for the family. Later, your brothers and sisters come to pay you a visit. The presence of those boys, so similar and yet so different, represent the symbolic union of a house that was close to rip in two opposite sides.
As Queen Alicent would later remark to Princess Rhaenyra:
āThese boys are fundamental in keeping peace amongst us. It is a sign that the Gods forged such beautiful boys to bring them peace.ā
Arm to arm with her former rival, the princess says in turn:
āThey are as my grandsons and yours. It couldnāt be otherwise.ā
An exchange of glances and they laugh quietly.
āArenāt we too young for that?ā, muses Alicent in jest.
*
The twins are in between you and Aemond in that bed that night. You watch, rejoiced, as they sleep soundly, hands tight.
āI want moreā, he tells you. āI didnāt think Iād enjoy being a father, but look at what youāve done to me, woman. You gave me precious little beings to look after, to educate. And I cannot not be anxious about them.ā
āI want girls now so they can make me companyā, you giggle at him. Very carefully, you put a lock behind his ear. āWith a handsome consort like you, though, I donāt think Iāll be unable to prevent more to come.ā
Aemond chuckles lightly before giving you a chaste kiss.
What more could a man like him want?
Imagine Aemond needs a plan to end this bloody civil war as fast as possible⦠and when looking for a solution to it, he opts to kidnap you.
Warnings: drama, smut.
***
In the midst of chaos, security must come as a form to provide means to prevail the mess provoked by enemies.
Aemond frankly believes that his brother is an incompetent king, wasting sources as if heās already the winnerāwhen the blacks are clearly proving to be relevant adversaries.
And if these sources are ending⦠where else to find an alternative? Pillage is not a stable solution, improper as it is, and even Aemond Targaryen has his principles.
The answer for his inquiries comes surprisingly through his mother. The dowager queen storms inside the privy chambers, where her children are reunited, and exclaims in between amusement and annoyance:
āHow ravens fly fast!ā, she snorts. āLord Stark's heir intends to take Lady Y/N Arryn as his wife!ā
Aemond raises an eyebrow, but his brother voices the general discontentment:
āI judged House Arryn to be neutral in this conflict, but then again they are related to Rhaenyra via her mother. This means no good if their heiress is becoming Lady of Winterfell. A power we might not lean against.ā
Silence falls stunned in it. Very few would admit out loud the obvious reasoning of the situation: with House Arryn and their men next to the Starks, this only means defeat for Aegon's cause and his party.
Until Aemond comes up with a solution. One of the kind that might bring displeasure to his lady Alys, but when it comes to his family, no love nor gold can break his loyalty.
āI know how to impede this matterā, and looking easily at his stunned mother, Aemond even smiles. āI do not say anything about killing, my lady mother.ā
The other option⦠no one feels comfortable to ask. But Aemond is confident in its solution, at whatever costs he is willing to pay in order to settle this bloody war as soon as possible.
***
In the meantime, you are found at the Gates of the Moon. Dressed in silk robes and with hair perfectly tied in two buns, you are attending your uncleās council.
Every eye is on you and there is nothing but exasperation in their semblances.
Theyād rather see an illegitimate Arryn here than I.
Nevertheless, you still bear in mind the concept of duty, so long ago transmited through your recent deceased parents to you. For it is duty that will aim you as high as honor.
Here you are thus, mounded to your soon to be position as Lady Arryn, one of which is not welcomed by some of the oldest nobles. However, against tradition of male inheritance here stands yours as a stark contrast. Winds of change... it seems.
You smile to yourself as you leave the safe guarded spot, completely unaware that your life is about to change for good in a matter of seconds. For you miss a large shadow crossing high above your head, probably taking it as a cloud that will soon passāweather has been really odd these days.
Itās when so suddenlyā¦
Danger crosses your path.
āGreetings, my ladyā, says the one eyed silver haired prince, coming out of the blue.
You freeze. Taking a look at his features, you need little to tell who he is and what house he comes from.
Not to say the stories told about this characterā¦
āMy lord Princeā, your voice comes out choked, your chest is heavy as you find yourself powerlessāand overpowered.
Perhaps this is your death. Perhaps this has been a trap for you planned by your enemiesāyour cousinsāand this saddens you more than angers you, once no harm was done to them.
āNo need to be frightened, dove. Methinks youāve been too caged in this cellā, says he in his calm, easy voice.
You quickly side gaze at your surroundings, but seeing where you stand, there is little point to escape.
āKill me then if you mustā, you sigh, trying to show some dignity in such a time. āMay my cousins reward you well for this cowardice if this is what should be.ā
Aemond chuckles at what he believes to be a mix of drama and bluntness on your part. Which, in his concept, makes you more interesting than heād formerly judged.
āI did not take the heiress of Arryn for a quitter. Mayhaps Iāve been misled to think that a woman as yourself would hold onto her rights in higher grounds.ā
āI am no ordinary woman, lord. Do not think Iād easily give you my rights to bring Arryn to a war that is not mine to wage.ā
āNot yours to wage?ā, he scowls at you, though his eyes glint with mischief. āYou are betrothed to a wolf, kin to another dragon, both of whom have been allied. Do not take me for a fool, I am everything but one.ā
āMany sobriquets have been attributed to you, lord, but liberator of women was not one of them.ā
You defy him with your pride, but this is not a prince like any other of his station. There is nothing usual around his person, and yet⦠when he comes at you, you dare to try to escape.
Regardless of what instincts can do, Aemond knows heās stronger and fasterābut heās impatient in playing games with you. Heās been tired of doing such, so he wastes no more time.
That is how the prized heiress ends captured by the dragonās claws.
***
āFrom one cell to anotherā, you blurt it out the moment you find yourself at a strange, tall tower. Your whereabouts are unknown and even after an intense fly, youād think able to recognize this new land youāve been taken to.
āThese are your first words as we landā, observes Aemond, amused. āI feared youād throw up once you set your feet in this soil, since I forget that this is the first time you fly on a dragon.ā
You refuse to answer him further, angry as you are for being taken out of your home without your consent. Seeing the silent treatment is all he gets of you, the prince tries another approach.
āWe didnāt start really well. But this is war, my darling. I am loyal to my house and I could not afford letting yours so willingly side with the enemy of mine.ā
āWhat a good excuse to justify a kidnappingā, you snort at him. āTake the heiress few support! Do you not realize how, in doing so, you make easier to have my position usurped? What makes you think the Starks will not be offended by your recklessness?ā
Aemond side smirks at you, ever serene in his countenance.
āYou will get whatās yours by right, that I assure you. After I marry you, of course.ā
***
Lady Alys does not approve it either. She may understand her lover's point and see sense in his plan, which is not, due to the current circumnstances, unusual. How many heiresses weren't kidnapped and had their inheritances used by their captors?
But the mistress of Harrenhal is not pleased with the possibility that she might lose the influence she's been long enjoying over her flawed prince.
"It is a marriage of convenience", the prince addresses her cooly once she admits her fears. "I do not expect you to understand, but to accept. Noblemen like me do not marry out of love."
The answer is not well absorved by his long time lover, but Aemond does not mind to it. That night they have the first disagreement, a crack in what once was his comfortable zone. And he hates you for it.
*
But even if he does, the prince comes after you, to see how well you are settling in your privy bedchambers. Without the need of announcing his presence, Aemond walks in--less cautioned than he planned, more anxious than he'd like--and is surprised to find you with your long dark auburn locks falling in cascade behind your back, wearing a line gown that captures his attention--and he detests that he comes to notice your well shaped breasts.
"Lord prince!", you stand quickly and toss a proper robe over your shoulder. "You should have knocked."
Aemond holds his hands behind his back and assumes his cold posture for his own sake. Nonetheless, there is a malicious smirk twisting in the corner of his lips.
"This is my home. I act as I see fit. Besides", he softens when seeing you are frowning, prompted to protest, "I wanted to make sure you are comfortable."
You stare in response.
"How can I be comfortable in a strange place?"
"It will be yours in a matter of hours."
You begin to pace anxiously. Aemond's good eye is fixed upon you: your posture indicates not only pride, but how well versed you've been in the matters of nobility (in ways of walk, dress and talk). You are gentle, he suspects you might share some traits of sweet nature with his good sister Helaena, but proud.
Every inch an Arryn who refuses to give in after dropping out the nest.
"I refuse to marry you", you say, reclining against the window. By how you grip tightly the border, Aemond can tell you are trying to find comfort in the fresh air of the night. "I cannot consent to this."
"What other option do you have? There was a plot to overthrow you and steal your inheritance", Aemond is careful with the distance there must be between you two.
When you look at him, he is knocked out of his high guard just by the lightest shade of blue that colors your irises.
What am I staring at? The bluest sky or the bluest sea?
He swallows.
"The Starks do not take well when their honour is offended", you reply.
"They have long been associated with Rhaenyra to care about this war. Your betrothal is a proof of this", Aemond snaps back, cold. "But they cannot offer you what I can: the protection of Vhagar. Long time ago, she belonged to another rider who was precisely there when the Arryns subdued to the Targaryens."
You see reason in his speech, but there is fear in your eyes. Aemond begins to pace around the bedchambers you occupy and your eyes follow his moves.
"It is not my intention to do you any wrong", his voice comes out as a whisper, but you listen well to what he is saying. "Nor my wish to usurp your position as the rightful heiress of your lands. However, I do need your men and your gold."
āKnowing I am one of the few heiresses available, how dare you affirm you have no intention in usurping me?ā, you say in gritted teeth.
Aemond and you stare each other with mutual despise.
āYou are well aware that you arenāt safe in your own home. Tell me: how many men support your claim to the Arryn seat? And more: what assurance do you have that they are not plotting with the Starks to remove you out of it? Isnāt it convenient that you are expected to marry the heir of Winterfell who cannot and will not abandon his seat to occupy yours?!ā
Your composed mask falls. A side smirk at Aemondās lips tells you victory is his.
āYou lieā, you whisper, but not even you believe in what you are saying.
The prince leans against the wall. Something wicked in his eyes warns you not to stare, but you hold back his gaze with the dignity there is left in you.
āWhy would I? Marriages often are political alliances. They are arranged based on mutual benefits. Iāve already made clear my points.ā
āBy kidnapping me, you are imposing your will on meā, you say, although the more you see, the more reason you reluctantly concede him. āAlthough I wasnāt consulted either when the nobility chose a husband for me, I could, at least, give my consent.ā
āThis consent you gave was false. You are saying yourself: you didnāt take any active part in choosing a husband for you.ā Again he smirks when seeing he won you over. āBe reasonable, my lady. I did bring you against your will, but by associating with me youāll get your share of benefits. Like I said, I have no interest in governing the Eyrie. I could, in fact, leave you there to rule. Unions like ours are made not based on affection, but political purposes.ā
His words shock you. When noticing it, Aemond comes to realize you have been poorly prepared for your own task.
Must I do something about this too?
His good eye remains observing you. Reality is exposed and you come to see how youāve been a pawn to otherās interests all along.
āIf we marryā, you turn at him, hesitantly, āwill youā¦?ā
āLet you be? Gladly. I have a mistress, so you are not required to perform wifely dutiesā, says Aemond, sounding more arrogant than he intended.
Itās for her own good. Itās what he tries to convince himself.
But why does the look on your face give him a bitter look? His victory, his reward for coming up with a perfect reasonable solution to prevent a crisis in his family, suddenly have no taste.
āVery wellā, when you speak, you raise your chin and meet his gaze with a defying one of your part. āI agree to be your wife, Aemond Targaryen.ā
You turn your back on him. Aemond only nods, saying something about sending preparations for the feast the following day. But when he closes the door, he listens to a gut-wrenching sound that breaks his heart: the sound of abandonment transmitted through your violent sobs.
What have I done?
It is too late to have second thoughts. Heās doing for his family, the prince remembers. Not to satisfy himself.
If this is true, though, how come not even the idea of remaining by Alys side comforts him?
*
Once your tears are spent in what seemed to be an unending waterfall, you lean close to the window. Contemplating the dark skies, you search for the constellations you once liked to appreciate by your fatherās side.
āWhenever you feel an outsider, look up at the skies and see how the stars shine for youā, your father said. āNever, daughter of mine, forget the prize that you are and where you came from.ā
Although anguishing is what you have as company, slowly you start to unite the missing pieces. The sudden disappearance of Lord Tully, your paternal cousin, the day after your father was discovered without any signs of life. The displeasure in the nobility when you were announced as the lawful heiress of Lord Robert Arryn.
āA woman can rule if, and only if, she is well advised by her husband. In these circumstances who can provide security for us?ā
Us.
You werenāt included in that inflamed speech. You attempted to show respect to the tradition of the family, but now⦠After what Lord Aemond told you, can you contradict him? Looking back, you werenāt taken seriously by those who claimed to be your allies.
They didnāt even consult me about the alliance with the Starks.
You toss and turn in your bed. It may be comfortable to lay down in that silk bed, but itās not yours.
You stand and move up to the window. Silently, you scream.
Only then⦠You accept the fate the Gods give you.
*
Aemond decides to wait for a few more days before he joins you in sacred ceremony, although ravens flew with the news that you are already Targaryen by marriage.
This morning, he pays you a visit. Though he isnāt inclined to do so, he could not sleep the night before knowing he brought you miseryāeven if the prince saved you of a worse destiny.
Aemond, hardly one to be surprised, is perplexed to find you recomposed. Expecting to find you in the semi state of protest and depression you were when he brought you to Harrenhal, heās shocked to see your hair tied in one long braid and you embraced the green of the Hightower in the long sleeved gown you dress.
Fuck. Sheās beautiful.
āMy ladyā, he says after clearing his throat so he can dissipate his troubled thoughts.
āLord Princeā, and impeccable as ever, you lift your chin and nod your head, gracefully acknowledging his presence. āI came to terms with what you told me yesterday. It appears this union must occur to save my position in the Eyrie.ā
Aemond is trying not to look too puzzled when he says:
āIām glad you came to your senses. I knew you were a sensible woman, lady Y/N. Since you are open about the union of our houses, Iād like to warn you that I have sent a raven communicating our marriage.ā
You can only nod, aware there is little to be done to prevent it when you have accepted it by now.
āWar may come to you, lord.ā
āWe are already in it, my lady.ā He shortens the distance between you. āI intend to espouse you in a discreet cerimonial in a couple of days at the capital. But by all means we are married and you must act as my wife in all doings. So when I go to the Tullys early tomorrow, you will come with me.ā
You nod again in a sign that you are listening. It must not be a difficult task. You are his wife in name and politics. This shouldnāt be difficult to understand.
Why then do I feel sorely disappointed with this arrangement?
āAnd your mistress?ā
āShe will not disturb you.ā
Silence hangs in between you. Each seems to wait for the next move of the other. Are you implacable? Is this meant to be a competition of whoās the proudest?
You opt to make easier for you when you nod and go back to your seat. Aemond understands that itās how things are done. Itās a mere arrangement, he tells himself.
Even if misses something he cannot comprehend. Itās just politics.
*
You are walking around the gardens when your paths cross. The resignation in you troubles the one eyed prince who somewhat expects still that youād rebel.
On the contrary, however, you play your role with grace. A few days passed since the incident and heās seen youāve been through a few tests, most of which were provoked by Lady Alys and her jealousy.
You stood well for yourself, youāve learned to shield your gentleness behind your pride. However, each night he heard you weeping and that troubled him more. Each night he was left anguished.
So the ceremony was finally performed and you two were married.
āWelcome to the family, my dearā, the former queen consort, Lady Alicent Hightower, addresses you kindly. āI know the union should have happened under better circumstances, but we are most pleased to have you with us.ā
You nod your head, portraying your role wellābut you could not help yourself thinking that it was the money and position she was welcoming, not you.
That day, you are dressing in blue, the color of your house, that matches the irises of your eyes. Your dark hair is tied is an elaborated braid and your skin is embellished with jewelry selected for the occasion.
āMy lady wifeā, Aemond comes at you when seeing how outsider you look amongst his family. āMay we have a stroll outside? I donāt think I showed you the gardens.ā
āDo I have a choice on the matter?ā, the words slip out of your tongue without second thoughts. But you offer his arm and when he takes, you discover how relieved you feel upon leaving the court behind.
āI know itās a difficult process. I didnāt make it easier for youā, Aemond says. Although everything in him is composed, something about his words tells you different, which captures your attention. āIām loyal to my family, even if they are complicated. Iād do anything to them.ā
You think of your own, taken too early out of this world. Then you slowly opt to open yourself to him.
āA feeling I understand. I fear to be seen as someone who switched allegiances, even if you brought me here without my consent, but when I think about my relatives⦠I donāt remember seeing any proof of their loyalty to me.ā
There is a moment when the two of you exchange glances. You are surprised to find in Aemond a good listener and, in his good eye, no harshness nor arrogance that there were in the very first day when he got you.
āSpeaking of which, I must deliver you bad newsā, says he carefully.
You donāt look away when you encourage to speak whatever there is, even if in your heart you might know whatās it about.
āYour cousin has usurped your seat, backed by Lord Jacaerys Velaryon and Lord Cregan Starkā, Aemond shows you a parchment containing the news so you might see for yourself this isnāt any forgery.
As you hold it in your hands and open it to read these treacherous news, your eyes widening at every word there written, the Targaryen prince tells you that a spy he planted amongst the servants of Princess Rhaenyra told him that a meeting between these men was conducted with her approval.
āYour cousin has long sided with her, as you can see. But he waited for the opportunity in doing so. The arrangement with House Stark was merely the most peaceful option he encountered to make worth his claim to the seat.ā
You swallow back your frustration. Aemond studies your reaction: your posture never ceases to be regal and you walk from a side to other, but in your face the emotions betray you. A flash of anger is seen behind your eyes, replaced by sadness and then a wave of despair before reason makes you close your eyes and take a deep breath.
āMy lordā, you turn at him. For the first time, he doesnāt see any pride in you when you speak. āA war must be waged to clean the Eyrie out of these usurper hands.ā
The one eyed prince smirks at you.
āAnd how would you suggest us to do so?ā
You hold back anxiety when you come up with a plan. Aemond can see your brain engineering it and heās found very interested in witnessing your wit operating it.
āI believe that Vhagar is an excellent weapon for that matter. Although Iād like to pursuit diplomacy first, we cannot ignore that we have better chances in invading it. I would suggest to have a number of men, around 500, disguised and mixed amidst the common folk. You should choose a man of our trust to spread a rumor that the nobility of the Eyrie betrayed the Arryns by selling me to you and opening the path to Princess Rhaenyra usurp it.ā
āThat is a smart strategyā, Aemond is amazed.
You side smirk at him.
āMen like you underestimate women like me, but I appreciate your recognition all the same. As I was saying, we must send a common man first so he can speak in their language about all of this mess.ā
āPerhaps, to spread the news faster, we can plant others too.ā
You nod your head. Then you two smile because each comes to find out how the other thinks similar.
āWe wait for a weekā, you say. āThen you leave instructions for the commander in chief to leave the men through a secretive gate that will allow them to step inside. However, I must be assured that no pillage will occur if we do not wish to lose the peopleās trust.ā
āThat will be arrangedā, and then he pauses. āI admire your sensibility in using the folk to our purposes, my lady. I cannot help asking you, though, why.ā
āIt is a question very simple to be understood, lord: we rule them, we make laws for them, we are placed in this position for them. I cannot forsake my duty to these people and think of my own privileges. If they do not support me, then who will? Sure, we could discuss violence, but in a long term will it work? We must administer our goods wisely and a rule by fear is no guarantee of loyalty.ā
These are the words that deliver an unexpected and, at first, unwanted change for the way they are welcomed by this ill reputed prince and expressed by you conduct one to the otherās world in a route of collision impossible to prevent.
Aemond realizes heās misunderstood you, a regret he hopes to amend. Inevitable, he comes to compare you and lady Alys. The prince knows each has unique traits that draw him to them. But hereās the difference: there is something genuine in you whereas in his mistress⦠magic and other artifacts are used to mask the darkness in her heart.
Not that he is pure. He is not, far from it. But once he has the glimpse of the sun, why would he like to remain in obscurity?
āWise words, my ladyā, he concedes, after a time spent in silence, pondering the ideas that you bring. āI lament to say that when I thought and considered every possible angle, yours didnāt occur me.ā
The first signs of a significant change come when crimson paints your cheeks and you are forced to look away briefly upon this uninvited heat.
He cannot affect me so. I forbid it.
āYou said I was meant to be your wife in business, for such is the purpose of marriagesā, you speak gently, but firmly. āHereās my part.ā
Oh. Is she playing this game now?
Aemond side smirks, amusement twinkling behind his good eye.
āI admit the good you are doing for my house, so I owe you an apology for underestimating you. No one likes to be underestimated.ā
You raise an eyebrow.
āIs my lord the kinslayer apologizing?ā
In other circumstances, he would have been annoyed with this unexcused use of a despicable epithet. But now what he does is take your arm again and lace with yours, starting another pace.
You too seem surprised by his change of manners towards you, but somehow his presence is too enigmatic to let you be pushed away.
āIāve already said what I thought appropriate to say. We didnāt start well.ā
āI wouldnāt say that taking someone against her will is a good startā, you tease him, daring to poke his side. The surprise in his face when you do so makes you laugh quietly.
āHow can we make it right then?ā, the question posed is strange when he makes it, but Aemond finds too intrigued to let it pass.
āLeaving aside that marriage is business only is a good startā, you dare to suggest.
The one-eyed doesnāt say anything for a start, rather staring instead. You do not escape his intent gaze, aware heās analyzing you, whether your intentions in this propose are genuine.
āMarriage for me wasnāt an option before all of thisā, says he in a whisper only you can hear.
āYou may call me a dreamer if you like, but Iāve been raised in an environment where marriage was more than a political alliance. Yes, my mother wedded my father for duty, but then it turned out to loveā, you tell him.
Aemond again prefers the silence, letting you open up. He actually listens to your childhood memories and finds himself envied by your position as only child.
āThey tried to have more childrenā, you answer him when he asks why you donāt have any siblings. āBut my motherās pregnancies never carried on, I donāt know why. She did give birth to a few children in these years, but I was the only one to reach adulthood. Eventually, childbirth was, like it is for most women, her battlefield and she lost her last battle.ā
Aemond furrows his eyebrows. He seems to remember how Alys was hardly ever carrying his seedāa topic never discussed. But he came to wonder, as he does now, whether was his issue⦠or her obsession with youth preventing its possible dangers that giving birth to a child could bring, however royal this child would be.
āI lament to itā, is all he says.
āSo do I, but when my father told me about it, it was when I was better instructed about marital duties. A woman must be prepared for it. Though she is spared of gladiating in the battle field, he said, she has her own battles to fight and the noblest one is to provide her family continues.ā
āThat is quite a teaching.ā
You shrug your shoulders. As you two continue to walk, the veil that once separated one from the other now falls.
āAnd you?ā, you eventually ask a question that turns Aemondās world upside down. āI heard stories about you, but they seem⦠exaggerated now that I see you in flesh and bone.ā
He chuckes low at your remark before musing:
āI do not blame my enemies for spreading stories them about me. Most are not untrue and Iām certain that those who dislike me will not favour me under any light.ā
You concede a smirk.
āThat is a very good point. But I am interested to hear them from you. After all, I am married to the deadliest man of the Seven Kingdoms. How can I be prepared to deal with the man?ā
As Aemond turns at you, so casually, your heart skips a beat and you come to find that no, you can never be prepared to deal with this prince.
*
You settle well at court, becoming thus a favorite to those who surround you. Aemond shouldnāt be irritated that you irradiate a sunbeam whenever you come up.
But as you show up with your long hair tied in two braids, dressed with a green gown that has the symbol of your house embroidered in the silk, acting so gracefully as if you are the queen, and not merely the wife of a second son in the midst of a civil war, jealousy ripping his chest.
Why so suddenly? What was meant to be a simple solution for his family issue is now⦠his person problem.
āLady Y/Nā, he comes up like a shadow and snakes an arm around your waist. The proximity gives you shivers and he fears for himself when smelling your scent. āI see how well familiarized you are here.ā
āIt could not be otherwiseā, you tell him. āI must adapt.ā
āAdapt or survive?ā
Eyes who meet in an intent gaze tend to speak through it. Has communication begun to flow naturally between you?
āIs there a difference?ā, you snap back.
*
The council is set and that day grave news are delivered.
āIt appears the next battle is indicated to happen close to the gates of the Eyrie. How thankful we are that youāve married the right woman, Aemondā, so says Aegon. āThis is the time to restaure the womanās inheritance and⦠be at her side. We must secure the Arrynās seat.ā
Aemond doesnāt hold his brotherās gaze initially, preferring to look at his fingers playing with something on the table.
This is what had moved him to you. The goal was achieved. But why is there hesitation on his part?
It appears that Aegon, with his eyebrows raised, has the answer he doesnāt want to hear:
āWhat? Donāt tell me youāve grown fond of our pet.ā
To the kingās amusement, a flash of anger is perceptible crossing his brotherās good eye.
āShe is not our pet. Donāt call her that. I do not need to be reminded of my own suggestion, thank you very much.ā And without waiting for some answer of his part, Aemond quickly adds: āI am parting with Vhagar early tomorrow. It appears I must take my wife with me to fill this task.ā
He narrows his eye at a very amused Aegon, who cackles quietly.
*
You are found in the library, concentrated in your reading. Aemond at first doesnāt make his presence noticed; prefers to study you first.
This day your hair is tied in one elaborated and elegant braid. You wear a cream gown that shows some cleavage and whose details show an eagle and a dragon embroidered together. The sight of the symbol, which represents the union of two distinct houses, makes him smile.
There is no space to think of his recently abandoned mistressā-she, in fact, apparently chose to switch sides by bedding Lord Daemon, his uncleāwhen heās so charmed by your heart shaped face, your blue eyes that mirror a cloudless, sunny sky, your rosy lips and pink cheeks.
His eyes linger at your calm breathing, how peaceful you are and, whatās worst, finds himself eager to see your breasts completely bare. The kinslayer prince, bad reputed at its core, is willing to have you as his wife by all means.
What an effort he puts in not taking you to his arms and convince you that he wants you, that he is willing to discover the possibility of being happy next to you.
However, he instead swallows hard and itās when his breathing becomes heavily loud that you raise your eyes and are shocked to find him there.
āLord husbandā, you say, disconcertedly putting the book in your hands aside. āI wasnāt expecting to find you here. Has something happened?ā
Thereās something that is not the usual despise youāve got used to it in his semblance. What has changed? You try not to look at his lips. Nor notice his well built muscles underneath his leather robes.
This is pathetically unbearable. We are meant to be partners only, not lovers.
You stand. He shortens the distance that separates one from the other. Neither of you dares to speak for a moment and it comes to oblivion what you asked and the reason why he stands before you.
Something about his presence, so close to yours, makes you warmāso warm that you fear for yourself, usually composed. It begins to form a strange sort of ache in your feminine parts that leaves you uncomfortable.
Oh the way he looks at you as if heās ready to undress you.
Then, of course, all the warmth is replaced by his usual cold when duty takes the reins of the situation.
āWe are leaving tomorrow earlyā, says the composed prince, breaking the spell. āWe are heading to the Eyrie. The men were instructed to do in accord to what we have formerly discussed.ā
It is shocking to feel disappointed by the distance he puts between you two. Holding back a sigh, you do the same.
āGoodā, and though it hurts to act in a nonchalant manner, you disguise well by putting some distance again as you head to the door. āYou will leave the diplomacy for me. Iām counting on your sword if it comes to it. Then remember, lord. As thankful as I am for your help, I am the mistress of Eyrie.ā
And just like that you leave, please to have twisted the game to your favor, much to Aemondās annoyance, whoās used to have everything and everyone under his control.
*
Fuck.
The one eyed prince isnāt expecting to see your curves perfectly shaped by the armor you put over your silk gown. It doesnāt help that your hair is tied in one long braid. Today, you opt to a shade of blue that carries something green within in order to show the party youāve been associated with.
You side smirk, pleased to have his eyes on you.
āWhat? Do you take me for a quiet woman whose inexperience in politics might reflect in hesitation in battles?ā
Aemond clears his throat as he helps you mount Vhagar, himself not taking so long when following you, holding you so tight against him that he feels your shivers at this mere contact.
āI may doā, he answers close to your ear, pleased to see he affects you. āYou possess a sharp wit, that I admit and admire, but to hold out a sword and shed blood? I cannot see you doing so.ā
You blush deeply. It does not help you that you are found on top of an old dragon, flying back to reclaim your seat and inheritance all the whilst your husband is seducing you.
āI couldā, you stammer a bit, much to your consternation and to his amusement. āI could show you I am perfectly able to cut you if I wanted to.ā
Aemondās laughter gets you out off the guard and it warms you to such a point that makes your heart race. It worsens your case when he dares to plant a kiss on your jawline.
āAemond!ā, you protest.
āWhat? Canāt I admire your wit?ā, he whispers charmingly, tightening the grip around your waist as he holds the reins of Vhagar.
āYou must be wishing the death of me. We have not yet arrived at the Eyrieā, you speak with your gritted teeth. Gods know how you hate him for playing you like this.
Aemond chuckles low.
āYou bear so little trust in me that Iād simply let you fall?ā
You dare to turn your head and give him a knowing look. His smirk shakes a little when he understands whatās not being said.
āYou are my wifeā, says he, annoyed. āHave some faith, woman.ā
Thereās no time to discuss nor to focus in foolishnessāas much as you have secretly enjoyed to have the captor whoās now your husband very closely; more than youād admit out loudāonce the dragon, as if acknowledging the spot, finally lands and growls.
*
To reclaim your inheritance comes from a long way. When you look back at it, you are surprised to see how far youāve gone to pursuit your rights.
Youāve once believed that upon your fatherās demise the succession would go smooth. Men of his trust had assured you it would be so, but until Prince Aemond of the House Targaryen took you and wedded you against their will, nothing was far from the truth.
As the rogue prince had forewarned you, the councillors betrayed you by arranging a match with the lord of Winterfellās heir, a political alliance that would benefit the Black party by extent. Sending you away to marry Lord Cregan Starkās son would guarantee your cousinās usurping your seat and continue with the male lineage in the Eyrie.
āThe hypocrisy of this situation does not cease to irritate meā, you tell Aemond the evening of your arrival, after a feast was given in your honor in order to try to delay any possible draconian interference. Diplomacy was used, but at what avail?
āWhat hypocrisy?ā, Aemond is occupying a seat in the large private chambers that once belonged to your father and mother. Heās entertained by the fact that, once he announced heās your husband, a quarter as this was given for you two. As a couple. So he watches as you pace anxiously in nightly gown, hair completely loose.
Indeed, my wife.
A side smirk runs in his lips.
Unaware of his thoughts, you turn at him and say:
āYou are helping me to take back my rights to the Eyrie seat in the midst of a war caused because your brother took the throne of his sister. It is also ironic that by the same reason she supported the stealing of my inheritanceā, so you explain, irritated as you offer him wine.
Aemond takes it, reclining back in his chair and finding intriguing how from enemies you two are⦠allies.
And in one step to become lovers, even though we are married.
āWe need the men of the Eyrie. And your goldā, says Aemond, after sipping the wine. Bittersweet, but enjoyable. āPrinciples hardly make war consistent.ā
You turn at him with such an intent gaze that the prince almost looks away. Then you remember that is precisely why youāve agreed to marry him, to bring the old winged beast by your side.
You take a deep breath and mask your disappointment.
āYesā, you say. āTrue. But they are not entirely convinced to switch sides.ā
āIf diplomacy is not working, force will be uncontested.ā His eyes do not leave you. āWhy hesitate? Are you expecting to convince them when you didnāt in the first time?ā
You ponder his words, not saying anything at first. Aemond stands, going to where you are, before the window. You are surprised to have him so close to you, but you are tired to fight him away, to play these foolish games.
However, this isnāt about lust. Aemond sees you are tired and distressed. Very gently he plays with your hair, letting silence hang in between you two, a silence that is only broken by the howl of the wind and the sound of the owl.
āI am scaredā, you admit it then.
āMy darling, you offered peace twice and twice you were refused. They are purposely delaying you so the Starks will come. Can you not see that? If not the Starks, worse may come and the civil war will be transferred to this territoryā, he whispers.
You furrow your eyebrows, seeing reason in his speech.
āVery wellā, you nod. āYou are right. I will do as you suggest. Send a rave to your men. They can enter the Eyrie via that secretive area Iāve told you about.ā
Aemond nods, but he doesnāt go straight away. You half expect that he parts, preferring to be elsewhere, despite the current circumstances. But he is still there. With you.
āI am not leavingā, says he when reading the unposed question behind your eyes. āCome here, wife. We should stop with this play pretending.ā
You cannot refuse him. Fearful of ending broken hearted, though, you do not dare to go against these desires of your heart youāve thought to repress.
āIf you are sureā, you whisper when leaning into him, helping remove his eye patch as he starts to unlace your nightgown.
āMore than sure.ā
Saying so, he leans close enough to wrap his arms around your waist, rubbing his hands up and down your back. You rest your forehead against his, smiling quietly as you admire his sapphire eye.
āDo you like what you see, my lady?ā, he smirks, caressing your skin so softly he feels the goosebumps he causes you, which delights him greatly.
āYou are so handsomeā, you admit, finally removing yourself the mask of iron youāve long learned to wear.
Aemond smirks as he pulls you to sit on his lap. This intimacy feels different, the result of a deeper shade of affection.
You slide your legs to wrap around his waist, unsure where this confidence is coming from.
He pecks around your neck, giving small bites around it.
āNo, my love. You are the blessed one in matters of beauty, so gorgeous you are, specially when undressedā, then Aemond gently turns you under him in bed.
Locked gazes, secretive smiles. And one, deep passionate kiss to finally, oh finally!, bury once for all any sign of resistance from either part in consuming this unexpected alliance that has long left the politics field.
āGodsā, he grumbles, his hands all over you. āMy wife, my consort. Fuck.ā
āMmmā, you like how domineering he is, you delegate the control youāve been holding to him and you come to find how youāve been longing for it. āAemond, my husband.ā
It then occurs him something so he stops the making session to cup your cheeks and gives you a soft smile that warms your heart.
āWhat?ā, you ask him breathless, suddenly aware of how exposed you are under his gaze in so many shades. Your face begins to flush. āAemond, it now occurs me that you shouldā¦ā
āShush. You may be the mistress here in the Eyrieā, says the prince maliciously as he climbs over your body, hands opening your legs gently. āBut Iāll be the master right here, right now.ā
You smirk as he leans forward to kiss your lips slowly, but fervently, quietening any riot that might come out of your lips.
As his tongue pairs with yours, Aemondās thighs overcome yours, teasing your entrance with the tip of his manhood. You play with his hair, scratching his back with his nails, nearly begging him to do whatever he pleases with you.
Aemond breaks the kiss, chuckling at how under his power you are. You gently touch his face and it seems time stops when you kiss again and part.
Thereās no need to speak when the language body speaks for itself. His head buries in your neck, his tongue paces from it to your collarbone. His hands work his way to cup your breasts, not stopping until you mewl loudly. Only then⦠his lips move downwards.
And when your eyes meetā¦
āAemondā, his name comes out as a whimper in your lips, which only fuels his arousal. āAemond, please.ā
His lips open in a devilish smirk before his tongue twirls around the tip of your nipple, getting you too close to the edge. You pull his hair and he complies to your unspoken demands.
You are the center to which he gravitates and heās the air without which you cannot breathe.
āOh my darling. I havenāt even started yetā, so he grins whilst brushing his lips against every piece of your skin.
And moving up to your body again, he ties your hands, pinning over your head. It doesnāt help that this rogue prince strokes himself right before doing the same to you, inserting his finger, filled with precum, right into your womanhood.
āYouāll be the death of me!ā, you cry out.
āNot if you kill me firstā, teases him.
Slowly, he lifts your legs; slowly, but intently he pursuits your lips; and slowly, but lovingly the prince finally sets his way inside you.
Oh what a night to remember! To be deliciously fucked by your former enemy, the man you are lawfully married to.
*
Despite the ache in your legs, it is not the time nor the moment to recall the night before. As well pointed by your lord husband, out of the bedchambers you will rule the Eyrie as you see fit.
What happens next is the stage that will define the fate of this bloody war. Aemond had risen early to send a raven to his trusted men. He followed your instructions in flying away with Vhagar to give the false appearance of departing.
In truth, he is supposed to lead the invasion from the back. Propaganda was a useful tool: you were told that the common folk, like you predicted, supported you. They opened the gate to let the green army step inside.
And you, on your turn, captivated the old allies of your father with your charming wit.
āThe war demands us to choose a side. Remaining neutral is not an option. We must think for ourselves, but what interests do you defend for the Eyrie by sharing them between the Starks and the woman who is causing war? I for one stand for peace and have been throughout my life properly educated for this role. I aim for duty, I aim as high as honor. By going against my fatherās wishes and pledging for the enemy, you are being everything but honorable.ā
Naturally, cousin H/N does not take well the words expressed. Another round goes as ideas are fought, and most fear for violence. You are no quitter, however.
Raising your chin, you defy them. You defy them all by destroying each argument posed against your cause.
But if words are not enough to support you, the roar of the dragon does its job and quiets the discontents.
You won.
And without shedding any blood.
*
King Aegon graces you with a visit with the well beloved Queen, Helaena.
āMy lady of Arryn, we greet you wellā, says your brother in law with a warm smile. āI cannot ignore that you have been a valuable asset to our family. Truthfully, I had to fly all this way to thank you for sparing the kingdom further years to bleed.ā
This day you are dressed elegantly in a silk gown that mixes the symbols of the Houses you are linked to, by blood and by marriage. Likewise, your husbandās robes are in a blue-greenish that represent this union.
āMy king and brother, I did as honor compelled meā, youād curtsy but he prevents you to do so.
āA very adequate match to our brotherā, says Helaena, affectionatively. āWe did not really like Mistress Rivers anyway.ā
Aemond clears his throat, embarrassed, but you and Aegon share a laughter.
āWhy, Iām glad to be part of the Targaryen family. It is my pleasure to be linked to you. You, sweet Helaena, have been a friend from the day I stepped in that court.ā
She extends her hands for you to take and so you lead the way indoors. Aegon and Aemond watch as the two of you act like sisters.
āWellā, says the elder of the two. āLittle wonder why you are such a freaking master mind, Aemond.ā
Aemond buffs, but a smug smirk could be seen in his lips.
āThe perks of being a second son.ā
āThe Eyrie is now oursā, says he in a whisper. āSince Lady Y/N is now Targaryen.ā
Aemond gives Aegon a sideway glance, but says nothing of the matter.
āWhat is more relevant, brother, is that we have nothing else to trouble ourselves with. Rhaenyra has been defeated once for all. That is enough for us.ā
Aegon studies his brother, but keeps quiet whatever reserves he has of what is saidāor left unsaid.
āVery well. You are right. Why troubling ourselves, eh? And since you refuse to aid me, which I understand why, I have Daeron as my Hand.ā
Aemond doesnāt turn to gaze at his elder brother. He adjusts his posture, hands are put behind his back and leads the way indoors.
āAyeā, says the new lord (albeit consort) of the Eyrie. āYou chose well. Daeron is very capable, you will see.ā
*
⢠A few years laterā¦
Aemond is found playing with his sons in the private quarters you two share when the door opens with a pair of twins running wide to get his attention.
āOh, hello there!ā, he laughs quietly when Rhaella and Alysanne dispute to climb over his shoulders.
Right in this moment you walk in, carrying your fifth child. (You like to blame Aemond for never stopping to engage in marital affairs. Gods help you.)
āMother! Can we go outside now?ā, inquires the elder of them, your heir named Robert after your father.
āNoā, you tell him, hugging him against his will, which makes you giggle. āItās snowing.ā
āWhen can we fly Vhagar again?ā, this time itās Aegon, your second boy, who questions his father.
āLet Vhagar sleep. Sheās old. She needs restā, so your husband says, holding the twins together. āBesides, didnāt you hear your mother? Itās snowing.ā
āItās bedtime for you allā, you announce thus.
It takes some time before the children are tucked in. You let Aemond tell them bed stories, but the girls insist that you sing an old, ancestral song they love.
Finally, however, you and your husband have a time to yourselves.
āY/Nicknameā, Aemond comes with that voice you know so well. You shiver. He smirks because of it. āCome over here, please.ā
You walk to where he is, having barely removed the jewelry.
āI want to care for youā, says he in a whisper, helping untangle your braid. āYou should not work so hard in this condition.ā
āI feel tiredā, you admit, albeit reluctantly. āHowever⦠I cannot. You knowā¦.ā
āNo. Right here I have the last wordā, says the prince, firmly, but gently as he unlaces your gown. āCome over here, love. Let me tend you.ā
You slip by his side, helping him undress too. Fire lights in his eyes, mirroring yours, just after he put some more wood in the fireplace.
Tossing the fur blanket over your exposed bodies, tangled as one, Aemond rests a hand over your growing belly.
āMy seed is strongā, he muses, caressing it before looking at you, āas is my wife.ā
Your face goes bright pink at his flattery. Even now, after four children and seven years married, he knows how to affect you.
Aemond holds your chin and kisses your lips. And thenā¦
āI love youā, those three words rarely come out, but youāve never needed to hear them, even if when you do you get tearful. The prince smiles in secrecy. āI truthfully do, Y/Nickname. I have in vain repressed it, but to what point? Even the day before I brought you back here, I knew in my heart that youād be my redeemer.ā
You lean closer as if possible.
āAnd I, you. My husband, you have held the possession of my heart and soul since the very first day.ā
Without his eye patch, just the two of you, no clothes. A soul reflected in another.
There is peace. There is love. There is family. Everything both of you always wanted to achieve.
Imagine Aegon dies⦠and you help placing Aemond on the throne.
Warnings: drama, angst, (explicit) smut; long post.
***
⢠(I) Dangerous Liaisons.
As Helaenaās twin, you are seen as a gift sent by the Gods. To many serving the Targaryens, this is a good omen: a girl for each boy. In other words, following old Valyrian tradition, Aegon is expected to wed Helaena as Aemond is expected to take you as his wife.
Despite the closeness in bond and a natural sisterly affection between you two, observers do not take too long to notice how different a sister is from the other. Helaena, plagued by green dreams, finds solace in her unreachable world to where she withdraws frequently; you, on the other hand, are lively and with a mind of your own.
Where Helaena is the moon, you are depicted as the sun. Youāve always liked to shine bright, aiming for some recognition⦠but as you grew, little would be achieved.
There are a few stages where you are granted the position of protagonist, though. And yet they result in spending little time at the company of your mother and earning comparisons to Rhaenyra by your father.
These complicated situations do not help you in forming your personality. Often, it is Helaena who comes for you.
āYou shall climb higher, my sister. At what cost? Only the Gods knowā¦ā
āI know naught what is there to sacrifice. Didnāt ask for this lack ofā¦ā, affection is the word you fear to speak, as if itās sinful saying so.
Helaena looks at you with sympathy.
āRed is the path you will trace.ā
āIndeed it is a colour I likeā, you do not always understand her lines of thought⦠or rather, you are afraid to. But when she takes your hands, this connection comes like the fire of a dragon. And it burns you.
Because you can see what she sees.
āDear Gods!ā, you cry out, breaking the frenesi. āMy sister, Iām so sorry!ā
You pull her to an embrace and for the first time, she grants permission to be embraced. That evening, neither of you speak for a while.
*
Vhagar has been claimed. A price had to be paid and Aemond lost an eye for it.
āIt was worth itā, he tells you.
Aemond in fact likes your company. Even though there are moments you suspect he tolerates you because you two will marry in due age, you cannot deny that heās a better prospect than Aegon⦠and not to mention you have similar tastes, being in each otherās company ever since you could remember.
āHow?ā, you shoot him an angry gaze. āHow losing an eye was worth it? If I was thereā¦ā
āDonāt. Donāt be condescending, Y/Nickname. This is not youā, he smirks.
āCondescending you say. Allow me to disagree! Iād gladlyā¦ā
In this very inappropriate time, your mother, the queen, doesnāt like the tone she hears in your voice.
āI pray you are not speaking in an unlady manner, Y/N. I didnāt raise you to act otherwise. You are almost ten and four, a trait as this should have past this age.ā
Aemond spots a crimson red painting your cheeks. He sees the shadow of fury rising in your chest by the way you breathe heavily, and yet your face is effortlessly unreadable.
āYes, my motherā, you curtsy. āI promise I shall improve my manners.ā
Alicent nods her head, but makes you look at her, gently stroking your chin as doing so.
āMy dear child, I assure you there is little need to expose yourself in this manner. And Aemond, stop misleading Y/N to improper behavior. This is unlike you.ā
Aemond says no word, though the prince nods his head in a submissive gesture. Then, to his displeasure, you both are forced to part ways since the queen is suddenly reminded that her daughter has lessons with Helaena to attend.
*
Itās late when you opt to trace a path of your own. You make sure Helaena is sleeping well before slipping out of the bed you two share. You wear your court green gown and tie your long hair in a messy braid.
Barefoot you walk, silently so. Or so you judge, forgetting that Aemond is usually an owl. He has just landed Vhagar when the young prince spots a shadowy move going to the cave where a legendary dragon is asleep.
At first he is uninterested, believing it to be some of his uncle Daemonās children. But then⦠thanks to the moonlight he can spot a green gown.
āY/Nā, he hisses surprised under his breath. āWhat the fuckā¦?ā
Heās panicking at the mere prospect of losing you. For what you are doing is insane! None has dared to reclaim Vermithor since King Jaehaerysās demise, but those who attempted to do so⦠well, they are not around to tell the story.
āWhat are you trying to prove?ā, he asks himself, in between annoyance and admiration. āI am the only one allowed to be reckless.ā
To Aemond, you are his princess that must be protected at all costs. Forgetting himself in the process, he prays whatever deity there is to remove you out of this idea. You should not look up at him.
Oh what have I done?
Meanwhile, ignoring that you have been followed, you struggle with your fears. This could go worse, you know that. Targaryens are not immune to fire and even though thereās none to recollect failing to claim a dragon, there is a part of you that fears you to be the first.
You create, albeit unwillingly, a whole scenario of your funeral and you lament already for the pain it might cause Aemond. Or not, since now you are rather unsure of his affection towards you.
Well, there is little to think of when you grab a torch and light the way inside the cave. You hold your breath, motion it very slowly and carefully. You are sure that the silence of it can hear your heavy breathing.
It is a large cave, far better fit for savage dragonsālegend has it that Vermithor opted to rest in there after his riderās demise. Who would dare to be Jaehaerys sucessor and claim this ancient beast?
You spot a red scaled large dragon at long last. As you stand there, you stare at a possible death. But you do not dare to walk away, not now.
Helaena wasnāt afraid when she claimed Dreamfyre so many moons ago. Why should I fear doing so? Aemond has Vhagar. I will have my own too.
āVermithorā, you call out it itās name firmly.
Silence breaks and your voice echoes through the long cave. The beast opens its golden eyes and stares at you. It watches you, as if itās wondering your intentions.
Whether this is my failure or my success, it relies on me whatās to be done. Here I go.
Not too far from you, Aemond is willing to go after you. To take you away from this recklessness, but part of him stops him doing so. Itās your moment. He must have some faith in you.
So he watches as the dragon begins to move, distrusted. It spits fire across the cave before moving towards you. He doesnāt listen what you are saying, but apparently some wrong words come out of your mouth for now Vermithor spits fire in your direction.
āY/N!ā, Aemond chokes a scream.
But to his surprise, the misunderstandingāas it has proven to be soāis quickly solved. You speak the right terms now and in a matter of seconds, you climb Vermithor.
And you soon fly with it.
āGoodness me!ā
Not everyday Prince Aemond Targaryen is impressed, but the day Princess Y/N has claimed Jaehaerysās dragon and proven herself to be his rightful heir and rider⦠is one that he will never forget. And neither will you.
***
⢠(II) Blossoms the courtship.
Some years have passed ever since. You are finally the protagonist you aimed to be. Your name has been found in poems and in the lips of bards.
Aemond watches as you have grown to a handsome, lively woman, whose Valyrian traits manage to even shine off your twinās.
Howās that possible? They look the sameā¦
Intrigued as he is, you are every inch your Targaryenās ancestor. Some compare you to Rhaenys, the Conquerorās wife, for you suit well in silk as you settle fine over your dragonās back.
Whoever they compare you to, you care not. Indeed, you love dancing and flirting, flying with Vermithor above all⦠but when it comes to Aemond, heās your weakness.
The prince has turned his back on you, rather going outdoors. Little he is surprised when you are by his side, snaking your arm to his. Aemond smells your scent⦠and it makes it difficult for him to breathe.
You awake in me desires I wish I was not familiar with. Oh, Y/N. Had you known my struggles, would you make me at your mercy?
āWill you not salute me, Aemond?ā, you smirk at him.
The cream gown you dress today seems to reinforce your curves and you take notice of his lusting good eye lingering at the swell of your breasts.
āI often greet you well, Y/Nicknameā, he tries to hold back his composure. āHow is my little reckless dragon doing this day?ā
Despite his effort in looking away, Aemond knows he cannot. You take advantage of it by playing with his long, slander fingers.
āVery good, thank you. Our grandsire has been planning our wedding. It will be splendid so I heard, though discreet as it should.ā
āHumā, is all he says.
You tilt your head, trying to read the meaning this āhumā may imply. Despite knowing his nature, youād expect him to show some emotion. Realizing your disappointment, Aemondās pale cheeks are painted by a light shade of crimson.
āIāve meant to say I look forward to it.ā
āIt doesnāt sound like it at all.ā
āY/Nā¦ā
You say nothing, but you donāt leave him either. Instead of going to yard, you are surprised when Aemond is leading you somewhere outdoors.
He takes you to his secretive spot. It is located right at the center of a very elaborated labyrinth of trees, grasses and different kinds of flowers. There is an old fountain in it, but he takes you farther⦠and only then, where trees and silent birds are your witnesses, he makes you look at him.
āI am not good at expressing sentiments of any nature.ā
He looks away for a moment and you take the opportunity to lace your fingers in his. His skin, so cold in contrast to your warm one, gives you some shivers.
āOnly a bard is skilled enough to transmit sentiments of any kind to beautiful words, rhymes and verses.ā You pause. āWeāve been raised in this mess together, my dear. I struggle to find a place for me in this world, but you already have it.ā
Aemond scoffs.
āI am second best in all. Came too late for the higher prize. What should I offer youā¦ā
You seem to recollect your sisterās words about climbing high. It gives you bad taste in your tongue, but you swallow it.
āYou are my greatest prize, Aemond. You offer me wit and devotion. Should I start to listen your virtues? Or to say you have been my major inspiration, the reason why I pursued Vermithor?ā
Aemond once again finds himself blushing upon your words. He lowers his gaze and smiles shyly. You are pleased with this sight, very warming to your pounding heart.
āDid you do that madness because of me? Why?ā, he asks at you, impressed.
āI wanted to prove you my worthā, this is your time to blush. āIā¦ā
One look is enough and before you know, the prince takes you with his firm hands and presses his lips against yours.
It is as if the winds have tossed you into the storm, and you feel electrified by it. His tongue so domineering pairs perfectly with yours. You are captured in his web, a victim of this hungry hunter. And you gladly subdue to his power.
In this privacy, a kiss so intimate evolves. And you confidently slip to his lap, your hands now playing with his hair, touching his faceā¦
āSeven hellsā, he parts it to catch up with his breath. āY/Nā¦ā
āI want youā, you brush your lips against his, hands now slipping to his neck. āI cannot waitā¦ā
Aemond groans, cutting you with a kiss. It deepens, it burns, it hurts. Heās intense now, chewing your bottom lip, letting his hands finding your curves and caressing your chest, much to your delight.
You moan against his lips, setting your hips properly against him. The next you thing you know his hand is lifting your skirt, desperately moving high your thigh untilā¦
āWe best leave to our wedding dayā, he smirks when seeing a quiet riot storming behind your lilac eyes. āBelieve me, my dear. I am as willful as you are. You shall not regret when time comes.ā
You blush furiously. Something about this early interruption annoys you, fuels your frustration. As if he reads what you struggle to express, Aemond holds you against him still, refusing to let go of you.
āI love you, Y/Nicknameā, he turns your head so you can see he means what he says. āI shall not treat you unkindly, moved by lustful desires. You are more than that to me.ā
This time you soften and Aemond is more than pleased to see how smooth is your breathing, how frustration has been set aside by a new degree of satisfaction.
Like a needy boy, he clings onto you, his strong arms lacing around your delicate frame protectively, breathing in your scent and there staying. You shiver softly, to feel his breath against your skin is a secretive invitation to temptation.
But there is more than craving, than to submit to the needs of flesh. You smile to yourself, finally seen, understood⦠somebody elseās protagonist.
You are his heroine, his valiant damsel who claimed Vermithor for herself. His sun, to whom he gravitates.
āI adore youā, he whispers in your ear, his husky voice singing to your heart intimately, closely. āDo not dare to leave me, Y/N.ā
āNever, Aemondā, you turn your head so he can meet in your eyes the reliance his heart requires. āI am yours as you are mine.ā
You rest your forehead against his and for the last time this day, he kisses you.
Slowly. Achingly. Burningly so.
*
You stand before the window, watching as the moon rises uncontestedly in the skies. A cold breeze blows against your loose hair and you know itās an announcement of your sister, your other half.
Ghostly-like she comes to you. Itās said that when moon and sun meet, a shadow is what results.
āYou will rise as high as your heart desires. But a price of blood is the cost. Are you prepared to pay for it?ā
You close your eyes, unwilling to admit, unwilling to believe.
āNot my Aemond.ā
āNot himā, her echo makes you turn at her. You spot hurt behind her lilac eyes, the mirror of yours.
āSisterā¦ā
āIt is the will of the godsā, Helaena sets beside you, looking now to the horizon before giving you a sad smile. āWhat am I if not a pawn to their games?ā
This evening, Helaena does not take your hand.
*
You are flying with Vermithor, hours before your wedding day. Your red scaled dragon is as attached to you as you are to him. A new bond is strongly formed.
āThere you go! Are you ready for it, baby boy?ā
As if aware of your request, Vermithor growls. The dragon flies high and spits a cloud of fire in between clouds. You cross it, not minding the smell of burning. Just after you do so, you hear Vhagarās.
āLooks like we have companyā, you chuckle. āGreetings, husband to be.ā
āI was afraid you elopedā, you hear Aemond say. His words are the only evidence of his long companion, insecurity. A sentiment that you are familiar with.
āEloped?ā, you chuckle quietly as Vermithor and Vhagar pair in a rhythmless dance. āWith whom?ā
Aemond doesnāt answer, his face unreadable. Then his sharp tongue denounces his jealousy.
āSer Criston, perhaps.ā
The disdain in your eyes makes clear to Aemond that his jealousy is unfounded. Nevertheless he never appreciated that you took his invitation and danced in the feast of your fatherās name day.
Realizing that, you charm him with a loving smile.
āI shouldnāt be so imprudent, my dear Aemond. Nevertheless I could not help one last fly before our marriage.ā Only as you instruct Vermithor to fly back that you tell Aemond. āYou are a fool to think Ser Criston would have the same consideration I have for you. Heās nothing in comparison. Only a Targaryen can love another.ā
Aemond says nothing, but his chest swells with pride when hearing so. He follows you, for where else should he be?
*
You are at last his wife. The ceremony is conducted under the guidance of High Sparrow, discreetly and with selected witnesses. You notice that your sister Rhaenyra has been absent, but sheās barely missed.
āMineā, these are the words you capture as Aemond takes your wrist and presses a long kiss upon it. āMine lady wife.ā
And your face burns with the dark shade of pink. Has the reckless princess Y/N been tamed? Something about how his good eye stares at you confirms the courtly whisper.
āMine lordā, you smile, suddenly shy; yet Aemond sees how bright is your gaze, how full of life your eyes are. āMine husband.ā
āHere we areā, says Aemond as if thereās just the two of you on the table as your siblings dance along others. Surprisingly a good deed that Aegon has at last succumbed to Helaenaās charms. āTook us a long road.ā
āIt didā, you agree, lacing fingers with his. āWhat took you so long, I wonder?ā
You cast him a gaze, one of the kind Aemond doesnāt find difficulties to decypher. It has taken time to admit that what one feels for the other is not merely the ties of duty, but a bond deep and old as time.
He holds your hand gently, watching how well moulded yours is with his.
āI needed to be sure.ā
āHad I confessed my feelings earlier, would it have changed anything?ā
āNoā, and here he smiles gently. āI would not flee of my duties, my dear Y/N.ā
You lean forward to kiss his cheek, not minding showing affection in public.
āI am most pleased to have conquered a place in your heart, dear Aemond.ā
Not for the first time, the one eyed prince blushes. And now comes the bedding feastā¦
*
Once the bed is blessed by the greater authority of the church, privacy is granted and finally it is just the two of you. Here, denuded, you are shyāwhereas with Aemond is quite the opposite.
Unashamed, he takes a turn to the other side of the bed, where you are yet to slide in when he rests his arms around your waist as he stays behind you.
āSo beautifulā, he puts away your long silver curls, and you smile timidly when he does so; his cold slander fingers going up and down gives you quite a few shivers. āHow could this be? My wife, there is no one like you.ā
āYou are being kind, husbandā, you close your eyes, head throwing back at his chest. His hands are going down your neck, wrapping one around it before sliding another to cup your left breast. āKinder than I deserve.ā
āNot at allā, his voice, husky, warms you inside. Aemond smirks, attentive to your body language. But the prince takes his time. āYou are incomparable, woman. And yet you are mine.ā
āYou could have any other, thoughā, the subtle jealousy in your voice arouses him. The way you press your hips against his only helps to make his bone go harder. A sentiment that warms you⦠rather intently. āIt is my understanding you once whored.ā
āI did, yesā, he admits shyly, his lips now glued against your cheek, his tender kiss going to your jawline before moving to your neck. His thumb rounds around your nipple makes you arch your back and moan low. āAnd yet rarely did I indulge myself in such activity.ā
You turn again to be face to face to him. Your hands rest now against his chest before boldly moving to his erect manhood.
āI pray that you keep your wordā, you plant kisses around his neck, leaving some bruises before your instinct leads you to grasp him.
Aemond side smirks at you, aware that your timid comportment would not last too long. He lifts your chin and kisses you thus, aroused at the prospect of being the one to lecture you in these marital activities both of you longed for.
***
⢠(III) Fire and Blood.
The domestic stability does not last too long when your elder brother Aegon succeeds your father. Transition should occur smoothly⦠had not been the fact that the nobles of the realm had swore an oath to acknowledge Rhaenyraās rights to inherit her fatherās throne.
Yet, soon there is talk about the princessā weakness and incapacity to rule. It weights against her that she is wedded to the ambitious Daemon Targaryen.
A solution is proposed: as tradition dictates, the male heirās claim is pressed in opposition to the femaleās and the old king Jaehaerysā council is used as precedent. Besides, not even the oath swore by noblemen can state the lack of King Viserysās official appointment. In other words, Aegon is acknowledged as his natural successor. Not Rhaenyra.
And soon he occupies the Westerosi throne.
āI am more than aware she will not take this transition wellā, Aegon says.
In that evening, the coronation had been planned and now the siblings are gathered together. So far, you content to watch.
āWe are more than prepared to defend your position, brotherā, says Aemond. āWe are excellent combatants and our dragons are a force that must not be underestimated.ā
āYou speak truth even though they have ancient beasts in their side as well. Iām hoping that Rhaenyra will come to her senses, though.ā
āHardlyā, points Aemond. āShe is a stubborn woman, and very vain.ā
āWe must be mindful of gathering support. What are the houses that stand for us?ā, inquires Daeron.
Aegon lists the names of it. The younger sibling nods his head.
āAnd Citadel is, naturally, on our side. A pen is as important as a sword when battle comesā, says he.
The talks occur between the men, not regarding your or Helaenaās perspective. You let this be, but eventually you clear your throat, drawing every eye to you.
āYes, dear Y/N?ā, says Aegon in a condescending tone.
You know Aemondās unreadable look is on you, but you wouldnāt be you if you didnāt say:
āWe should not forget to send a dragon to the seat of the Arryn family. They hold a great deal of men who could aid our side in this.ā
āHave you ever flew there? It is too high and they remain neutral in any caseā, Aegon counter points you.
āPrecisely why we should use a good deal of diplomacy. It worked once when Visenya flewā¦ā you make a dramatic pause and cast a quick glance to Aemond, whose good eye remains glued in you, ā⦠with Vhagar there.ā
āI cannot send Aemond, though. His bad reputation would ruin itā, says a resented king.
āWho says anything about sending Aemond? I am a princess, my role is to serve my house, brother.ā
Aemond closes his fist, a sign of displeasureābut to your surprise, he doesnāt disagree. The one-eyed prince is reasonable. So he says:
āWe have dragons. Let us make use of it. In this first part of war, no moves are needed. Diplomacy works best under female arts, I believe. So Helaena could go North and work with the Starksā¦ā
āHelaena is my wifeā, so cuts Aegon. āShe is not going anywhere⦠since she is carrying our children.ā
His sweet smile, one youāve seen he saves only for your twin sister, melts every tension that could have come by the form he addressed Aemond.
āYou are expecting!ā, you exclaim, delighted. āHow come youāve not told me about this?ā
And that is how Aegon closes the council by delivering these great news. You leave the meeting in great content, arm in arm with your other half, both of you discussing and arranging plans for the unborn children.
*
Aemond is already in the quarters he shares with you by the time you return from Helaenaās chambers. Heās standing before the window watching the landscape as the sun sets.
You stand there for a moment, contemplating his handsomeness, the military posture that you admire in himāevery inch the embodiment of family, duty and honor. Though these are the epithets more often associated with House Tully, you think they suit your husband just fine.
Aemond, in turn, has long perceived your entranceāalthough he likes to pretend heās no observer just to amuse you. The silver haired princeās excellent listening caught the slight and delicate way you opened the door and so gracefully slipped through it, charming the quarters with your perfumeāah, the scent of lavanda! It is so characteristic of you, Y/N.
Although he is admiring the mixed colored of orange and dark blue in this twilight, the prince feels your gaze fixed on him. A side, crooked grin twists at the corner of his lips at it.
āWhat is my wife looking at?ā, Aemondās husky voice breaks the spell without even turning to gaze at you.
You giggle foolishly at how easily you can be seen drooling over this man you are lawfully married to. Planting by his side, you rest your head at his shoulder as you link your arm in his.
āI was admiring my lord husband. Am I not allowed to contemplate such an exquisite man?ā
Aemond chuckles.
āHow flirty of you.ā
āAlways with you.ā
His chuckle turns into laughters. You smile at yourself, taking pride in being able to dissolve a serious day and turn into a light one.
He deserves it.
āPraise the Gods for that. We wouldnāt want it the other way around, would we?ā
And now that he turns at you, Aemond can see every shade of affection transmitted in your eyes. He almost forgets to breathe when seeing it, once he grew up under that fragilityāwhich he still despisesāthat made him believe he was unlovable.
Damned be him for being possessive towards you. Aemond sighs quietly as he strokes his long fingers over your cheek.
āNeverā, you agree. āI am not a woman to share, you should know that by now, my prince.ā
āNeither am Iā, he whispers, eyeing you intently and smirking quite mischievously when seeing you blush right as he wraps a hand around your neck. āBut this shouldnāt surprise you, should it? You know me quite well by now, Y/N.ā
And saying so, Aemond leans you against the wall. You barely breathe; oh you like when he takes what he wants. The fire in him warms you and you are more than ready to get burnt.
āTrue. I do. This is why Iām here, although I recall your eyes following me like a hunter when we were betrothedā, you smirk.
āA teaser is what you areā, Aemond leans so close you can smell his breath and this proximity makes you weak in your knees.
He knows you well and smirks wide. His hand is still around your neck when he uses another to pull your hair.
āBut itās not your beauty that captivated meā, says he in the tone that gives you whispers.
You donāt know you are holding your breath until his touch makes you moan softlyāand heās only playing with your hair and exercising his dominance over you.
Aemond likes how easily you subdue.
āHow so?ā, you whisper back, unable to do anything, although you are opening your legs and lifting one to wrap it around his waist.
āYour witā, he says so close to your ear, his right hand playing with your locks before going to your back and unlace your gown. āIt arouses me.ā
Only your husband can bring this fire out of you.
āThe iron underneath your beauty⦠I see it. I like it. I own itā, and that being said he pursuits your lips, pressing his well built body against yours.
Your moan is shut under his fervent kiss and what is delightfully painful is that you do not dictate the rules of this sensual encounter, but he does. You close your eyes, letting him do what he wants with you--specially after what he said.
That he is aroused by your wit, that he acknowledges it and appreciates it, only makes you want him more. Aemond is about to find how much he's desired.
His lips move to your neck as his impatient hands help you out of the gown. You take the opportunity that you have some more space to move and wrap your arms around his neck, letting your hands wander around his muscles.
So suddenly you and him drop in bed and you help him toss away his robes. In your eyes there's nothing more than devotion and lust when you scratch your nails from his chest below. Your gaze moves down to his manhood, but before you can do anything at all he pins your hands above your head.
āAemond!ā, you whimper in protest. āThis is torture!ā
Aemond laughs quietly.
āIn truth this is what you like. Donāt deny. You may play with others at your will, my sunshine, but right here, right nowā¦. I am your masterā, and then his lips move to your neck, there staying for a while when he uses a hand to caress your breasts, playing with each nipple.
āAemond!ā, you gasp out of despair. You smirk at yourself. The prideful shrewd is tamed, humbled before her husband and the mere idea makes you unbearably wet.
āPlease!ā, you beg.
Aemond smiles at you all the whilst his lips move down to your chest.
āI greatly appreciate when my wife begs. I am at your disposal, noble lady.ā
Your eyes match in a gaze. You believe nothing can hold you back any longer and the very moment you feel those slander fingers inside you⦠you explode indeed.
Aemond knows his bone is dripping wetāa sensation he himself cannot bear much longer. But he is patient. And when he slides to his knees, when you humble before him, the prince groans.
āFuck. This is where our fun begins.ā
And the night has just gotten started.
*
Aemond is not a man who shares anything at all: power, books or women. But when you are on his kneesājust after he had his good share fun with youā, he doesnāt mind delegating it to you.
And here you are, right where you wanted to be.
āYou like that, naughty princess? By the Godsā¦ā, he whimpers and the sound of it makes you wet again. His hands play with your hair, but he lets you tease him.
For her now at your mercy and you enjoy it more than a wife should. But to have his large length erect⦠harder it goes as you tease its tip with your tongue, is so damn good.
āI save myself for you and you alone, though you have introduced me to these dark arts, havenāt you, husband?ā
Your sweet voice arouses him further. Proving to be his best studentānot as if he likes to teach; in the past he preferred experienced women, but even they could not be compared to you.
He pumps it right to your face and⦠Gods be good! His patience is well rewarded! All of this waiting andā¦
āRise, Y/Nickname. Let us not waste my seed in your beautiful mouth.ā
Something about your confidence lets him delegate some more power to you. So you ride him good that night, very certain that you have conceived.
*
But in the following morning, serious issues requested the attention of all.
āRhaenyra chooses warā, Aegon announces. āOur diplomacy has been refused.ā
You sigh. Discreetly, you cast a glance at Helaena. Seeing how she is uncomfortable with being there, you decide to get her out of there. So you excuse yourself from the throne roomāAegon and your husband look worried, but you reassure each that you and Helaena need some time alone.
So you lead the way to the gardens. Only then you two sit and wait. Helaena is pale, her hands are wrought in one another. Her eyes tear up, but she does not say a word.
You wait. You are familiar with her crisis. Somehow you feel it too. You bat your eyelashes in order to prevent tears to come uninvited.
I must be strong for my sister.
And then comes. Helaena takes a firm grip of your wrists and in urgent tone, she says:
āWe are not going to survive this. Do not let our sacrifice go to nothing.ā
āLaenaā¦ā
āPromise me, Y/N. Promise me! Your ambition will save us from disgrace.ā
You have the decency to look away, embarrassed, but then Helaena softens and makes you look back. There are tears in those eyes that are so similar to yours.
āY/Nickname. I do not fault you for who you are. We are the same but different, and yet we need each other.ā
āI donāt like your propheciesā, you donāt realize you are breaking in tears until she holds you close.
āWe are the instruments of the divine will. Do not try to understand. I quit that a while agoā, and just like that she drops you.
āI cannot⦠I will not accept it.ā And then you take her by her shoulders. āFight this, Laena! You are a goddamn Targaryen. We donāt answer to Gods or men!ā
Helaena says nothing. She gives you a significant smile and this is the moment you understand whatās being left out. You feel it even if you were not grantedāor gifted, like your mother used to point outā-this ability she possesses.
āI was meant to protect youā, itās all you can say.
āDestiny is inexorable, my dearā.
*
Aemond knows there is something wrong with you no matter how chatty you are, how kind you behave and how confident you show to others. But, patience is a virtue and, even if heās not entirely virtuous, this is a trait he takes pride in possess.
āY/Nā, he comes at you just after dinner. āLet us have a walk for a moment?ā
Just by how he cordially extends his arm to you, you know there is no escape. You nod. Thereās no alternative and even so⦠Could you share with him that secretive bond you and Helaena share?
Aemond doesnāt speak a word. He is tranquil and lets you have the way. You do have the tendency to speak too much when you are anxious, so itās not until you stop talking and suddenly burst to tears that you find peace when he holds you.
Because Aemond knows you very well. He can read you like a book. How could you consider not sharing anything with this man? The intimacy of your bond goes back to infancy.
You would die for him. Like he would for you.
āY/Nicknameā, he whispers in your ear as he holds you close. His voice is tender, gentle, empathetic even. āWhat happened when you and Laena left the room? Right when we were discussing important points that Iām sure were interesting to you.ā
Aemond caresses your face again, giving the time you need to speak. This is one of those rare events when you need to be comfortedāit is often when the roles were reversed. You are always there to everyone, and he remembers when you punched Baela in her face when you were children.
To see you fragile leaves him anguished. So he adds after a while:
āYou do not have to be strong all the time, Y/Nickname. Isnāt that what you often tell me?ā He kisses your forehead.
You nod. And then you share everything to himāeven those details heās unfamiliar with. Aemond is a good listener, he actually listens attentively to every word you say.
As if I needed any proof of his affection for me.
āI seeā, Aemond strokes his chin, thoughtful. āIt does certainly not look a good omen. But at least we have time to prepare ourselves.ā
You cast a knowing look at him, understanding whatās not being said. The prince looks at you as well, almost as if defying you to opposite it. Heās surprised, however, when you take his hand and there press a kiss, saying:
āYou are the light of my world, Aemond. My heart and soul are yours to command. You are not my master. You are not my lover only.ā And you find yourself smiling. āYou are my king.ā
Indeed, whatever your souls are made of⦠It can be said itās made of the same material.
*
You stay with Helaena whilst the boys go to war. Your sister is not going well with her pregnancy and as much as you have been excited to ride Vermithor for these battles ahead, you must stay behind with the one whom you shared a womb.
āI appreciate you stayingā, so your sister tells you. āThank you.ā
āYou are my sister. The sun ofā¦ā
āNoā, she interrupts you with a giggle. āYou are the sun and I am the moon. It is only fair it is so.ā
You rest your forehead against hers and close your eyes as you two embrace. This is going to be difficult and heart wrenching. Oh. Ignorance would have been a blessing!
In the meantime you stand side by side to Helaena, Aegon flies with Sunfyre whereas Aemond is heading to take Harrenhal. Daeron, on his part, is leading the troops to Stormās Land.
For now no one is looking at Dragonstone, since Rhaenyraās party is located there and without Vermithor, the chances are low.
As Aemond flies to Harrenhal, however, his conscience admonishes him about his brother. This is not the time to disregard Aegon for the foolishnesses. He is his brother.
Brothers do not abandon each other. Not by ambition.
Right?
Aemond knows that HelƦnaās prophecy might work well for him. But will he be able to live with it?
āFuckā, he mutters under his breath.
āVhagar, turn back. To Stormās Land!ā
Despite the resistance of the old lady, Aemond successfully manages to go back. So he flies as fast he can. Is he looking for redemption for what heās done to Lucerys?
That is a tricky question. One of the kind an answer is not needed to.
So he flies as fast as Vhagar can. Aemond tries not to be dominated by these unusual mixed of sentiments. Whatever it is he feels for Aegon, he cannot dismiss the fact they are familyāas their mother likes to point out.
Isnāt it because of Aegon heās waging this foolish warāor rather started it?
In the meantime, Aegon is tangled in a battle that trapped him between the experienced Rhaenys and her granddaughter, the bold Baela. The young king is despaired when noticing the foolishness in coming this way by himself, but whoās to blame for this if not himself?
Swallowing his frustrations, Aegon is not going to be a quitter now.
But it is somewhat too little too late to realize that only a dragon can destroy another dragon.
Was it worthy it?
In his last hours, all Aegon Targaryen could think was in his beloved HelƦna.
*
Blood is in your hands. You are completely numb as you watch your mother hold HelƦna in her arms. Guilt pains you even though youāve done nothing wrong.
I canāt stay here.
You stand quietly and leave your sisterās quarters. A vale of tears covers your face and once more you are fragile. Exposed. Broken.
You go outdoors, heading to the dragonās pit. Vermithor seems to feel your pain for you are able to hear his howl even from that distance.
Itās when a grand shadow is spotted. A large winged beast crosses skies. It howls like Vermithor.
Oh no.
You stand still. Remorse crawls upon your heart. By the looks of Aemond, you do not need much to understand.
When he stops abruptly and see you, he too pales. This day couldnāt go worse, could it?
For a moment, you remain apart of each other. You could barely breathe when you remember the prophecy of Helaena.
āYou shall climb higher, sister. At what cost? Red is the pathā¦ā
These words echo in your mind and you feel losing the grip of yourself when you slip to your kneesābut you are saved in time by Aemond.
He holds you close. Neither of you speak for what it seems to be a long time. You two are oblivious to the storm that is rising in the horizon.
āListen to me, Y/Nicknameā, he lifts your chin and cups your cheek. āNone of this is your fault. War is a risk.ā
You nod, unable to speak. Then you lift your eyes and panic is stamped in your features when it comes your mind the consequences of the death of your beloved siblings:
āDoes this mean weāve lost? Rhaenyraā¦ā
āNoā, Aemond says firmly. You may detect pain in his eyes, but thereās a certainty in his voice that helps you recompose. āWe cannot let her win. What they did to Aegon was cowardice, Y/N.ā
āVery well. Let us embrace this prophecy then. For Helaena, deprived of a long life filled with happy children and a good husband; for Aegon, who was deprived of his inheritance, his family. For us. For our cause.ā
Neither of you finds the need to say a word. Aemond rests his forehead against yours. He takes your hand and squeezes it. You take a deep breath, wishing this wouldnāt have to come this way.
At the same time, a thought occurs you: who better than Aemond Targaryen to be king?
The Gods could be cruelā¦
***
⢠(IV) Vengeance.
Aemond occupies the head of the table. This day heās arrived early, way before the council starts. Dressed in fanciful green robes, he is staring at the long table with empty seats. He cannot keep the satisfaction that is to finally be in what is his rightful seat.
Being the second son has its advantages.
But the sentiment of success does not last long. He is recalled of his mistakes and howāwith the exception of youāhe was never acknowledged for any good thing he did for this family. However, even in his worst days, Aegon was there for him.
Poor HelƦnaā¦
Although she was spared of a longer suffering⦠Aemond thinks of how you must be. Itās been a difficult week, but what matters the most is that one has the other.
The door opens abruptly and Aemond is not entirely surprised for seeing his mother there.
āYou couldnāt wait, could you? Weāve barely⦠Iāve lost two of my children and you are already claiming what youāve always wanted!ā
Aemond waits before her burst ends. The one-eyed prince is hurt, but not entirely surprised. Should he have hidden his envy better?
He lets her speak. He avoids the silent accusation. Should he defend himself?
Whatās the point? She never listens.
Aemond doesnāt trust Alicent Hightower.
āBecause you are my mother, I respect youā, says he, calmly. āBut you forget we are at war. To disrespect the memory of my brother, to whom Iāve been as loyal as any dragon could be to its rider, is to give away the throne to the woman whose associates trapped Aegon.ā
The dowager queen seems to come to her senses. Although sheās hurt, she is not unreasonable in seeing his point. This is the moment that you walk in.
You perceive the tension between them. Very carefully, you keep the thoughts to yourself. With these past weeks, you have come closer to your mother and all of this was thanks to Helaena. Youād not want to disrespect her efforts by taking a side in this.
Instead, you wisely say:
āHusband. Mother. I do not know what has come to pass between the two of you, but we cannot be divided in this delicate time. I was told that Rhaenyra sees this as the best time to come to the capital.ā
Alicent nods. Aemond gives a quick glance to you, appreciating your diplomatic skills.
āCall the others, motherā, you ask her. āWe have pressing matters to resolve now.ā
Once she leaves, Aemond turns at you.
āBy the Gods, how do you manageā¦?ā, he leaves the question unfinished.
You walk to where he is and stand by his side, smiling as he plays with your fingers.
āLet her feel useful, Aemond. Mother can be complicated, but if she has her way, youāll see she actually has a heart.ā
Your husband is too resented to agree with you, so he opts for the silence instead. You sigh.
āCan you at least try?ā You pout. āFor me?ā
He raises his good eye and stares at you. Then he whispers:
āWhen have I ever denied you anything?ā
You lean to peck his cheek, a smile so bright on your lips that Aemond could feel his inner demons being dissipated with your sunbeam.
How does she do it?
*
Once the allies are listed, plans are made. You are very determined to have Aemond crowned. But you also come up with a very bold plan.
āWe need to take Dragonstone. We can do it through gold, diplomacy and fire and bloodā, you try not to blush when sensing his long stare at you. āWith the right proposal, the Velaryons can switch sides.ā
Daeron looks at you, bewildered.
āFor how long have you kept your brain hidden, my sister?ā
You give him a smug smirk before proceeding with the plan. If the enemies did dirty by trapping Aegon, then youād have to be wiser in doing worse.
Later that evening, you come to Aemondās side. The two of you have retired earlier since the day after is promising to be decisive.
āAemā, you call him, softly playing with his long silver locks.
āYes?ā
Silence hangs in between. Itās comfortable. Then he turns at you and says:
āI need you.ā
āAnd Iām here.ā
He raises his gaze at you and you take the chance to remove his eye-patch. Gently, you caress the spot where his good eye was removed.
Then, Aemond leans his head against your chest and embraces you.
āI want you to⦠to fly with Vermithorā, says he, exposed to fear in his crude state.
āI willā, you stroke his hair, pulling him against you. āI will have you crowned, Aemond Targaryen, even if itās the last thing I do in this lifetime.ā
You side smirk to yourself but when he looks up at you, the smirk is wiped out of your lips. Aemond is afraid. Heās lost so much. Heās been through dark paths where many had been unfaithful to him.
āMy dear love, Iām here. I will never leave you.ā
For the very first time in a while, a tear comes down from his eye.
āI didnāt mean it. I did not wish to have the crown for myself at the cost of his life. Aegon was my brother too.ā
In your arms, wept the rogue prince. Misunderstood by all, unfairly attributed the epithet of kinslayer, a troubled soul who longed to be loved by those who abandoned him.
But you remain.
Of all people, you stay.
And this has many shades of meaning to a man who believed to be difficult to loveāand be loved.
*
Sun has started to set its first rays to light up the morning when you begin to feel sick. You try to feign this is nothing to be worried aboutāfor you rarely feel any kind of stomachache.
But eventually you lose your sleep. You stare at Aemond, naked, sleeping soundly by your side. He is so closely tied to you that it makes difficult for you to leave him.
Yet. You must.
Discreetly and without making any sound, you go straight to the small quarter that is joint to your privy bedchambers.
Gods, how you detest to bend like this. You pale, feeling dizzy. You cannot be sick now! Not this day!
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Then you stand and go back to bed. You pace lazily around your chamber so this strange sickness goes away. When your stomach settles, you go back to bed.
āMmā, grumbles a sleepy Aemond. āUp so early, my sweet?ā
You feel strangely emotional at how gentle and kindhearted he is with you⦠specially out of the public sight. You lean closer to him, snuggling against his chest.
āSleep, my darling. Itās nothing, really.ā
When he snores back, you chuckle quietly. Slowly, you drift back to sleep as well, feeling safe in his arms.
*
Aemond is reluctant to let you take part of this war. When seeing you wearing armor, his heart is pained by this sight.
What am I asking of her?
The former Queen isnāt pleased with his idea.
āYou are sending my only daughter to feed your ambition, Aemond. Let us hope you donāt take her from me.ā
Cruel words, but they hold some truth. Even though he cannot be condescending to your natureāAemond knows you are his other half, except that you shine so much brighter with your optimism. Little wonder why you were nicknamed the sunbeam of the family.
Who wouldnāt be contagious to the joy you irradiate? The peacemaker, the stronghold of them all, you are, in many ways, like Rhaenys Targaryen, their ancestor.
You are as comfortable in silk as in armor. With your silver hair tied in a long braid, you are more than ready to burn for your beloved.
Yet⦠Something about you is different. Aemond only doesnāt know what that may be and he is troubled by it.
āY/N!ā, he runs at you.
Luck for him you havenāt commanded Vermithor to fly yet. You tilt your head and give a curious glance at him.
āYes?ā
āYou can⦠still change your mind. Iā¦ā
āShush. Do not speak nonsense. I cannot tolerate this nowā, you laugh quietly. āI may be a woman, Aemond Targaryen, but I have the heart of a man. My spirit bends to no other that is not you, the husband I love ever for Gods know how long. I will make you king. Mark my words.ā
And so you donāt turn your head to see Aemond looking astonished at you.
āI love you, Y/Nā, he whispers to himself. āCome back to me safe and sound.ā
*
You should be heading to Stormās Land. That was the deal. But Gods decide otherwise.
It really helps little your discerning that your strange sickness has returned. Vermithor, as if feeling somethingās different with its rider, turns his back to check on you.
Or so itās what you judge.
āCome now, boy. Weāll be fine.ā
However⦠you spot a shadow not far from you. Despite the distance, you suddenly are afraid. This is your first battle and it could not happen in worse conditions.
You swallow your tears and lift your chin.
āI am as Targaryen as any other. Let them see I can burn as bright as any of them.ā
And so you fly to meet the enemy.
*
Aemond has conquered Harrenhal once for all. By subjecting the Riverlands to his will, he is beginning to be acknowledged as King of Westeros.
Naturally, heās far from the vindictive slayer many assumed him to be so. Aemond is no fool, so he spared many of his enemies, welcoming the change of alliance and forgiving their treachery based on their ignorance.
News begin to spread of his success. His men take Stormās Land. The Lannisters of Lannisport submitted to his cause. The Freys swifted sides too.
Daeron has succeeded in bringing the Starks to his brotherās side specially after defeating Jacaerys, Rhaella and Rhaenys in the Battle of Winterfell.
But⦠where is Y/N Targaryen? Why hasnāt he heard any news from you?
Fearing the worst, Aemond is, in a rare demonstration of his sentiments, imprudent. Ignoring his councillors, he mounts Vhagar.
I will find you, Y/N. And Gods forgive me for sending you to this mess.
What will he find is a surprise that should never be forgotten.
*
Itās Baella who comes to meet you first. Despite the strength of Vermithor, itās your cousin who dictates the rhythm of the battle first. Specially because she is experienced when you are not.
Disregarding the swift changes in your mood, when you feel as if you are battling yourself over the control of your body, you pay no mind to it.
Adrenaline surpasses reason, however, so what you do is guide your dragon through the clouds, get some impulse and give a surprise attack by pushing Baela and her creature to a circle of fire.
āWe wonā, you tell yourself⦠before leaning to the side and throwing your breakfast out. āUgh, my apologies Vermithor. But at least the puke wasnt entirely on you. How on earth did I manage that? I donāt ā¦ā
Had your dragon been a new one, youād probably have suffered a painful death. Not long after you defeated Baela, you are surprised by Rhaenyra herself. Her dragon bites the neck of yours, which startles you. To worse all, Rhaenyra jumps to your dragon and pushes you out of it.
It happens very fast.
Gods, you hate this. To be inexperienced in battle, to feel sick.
What happens next? You cannot tell. You seem to have accepted death so your eyes close.
You donāt hear the despair in Aemondās voice. He managed to rescue you, but had to carefully interfere in the dance of the dragons. Vhagar is responsible to take you home whilst Aemond jumps back to Vermithor and leads it in a battle against Rhaenyra.
How quickly the circumstances change. Vhagar, though, sensing the energy and the blood of battle, does not obey Aemond.
Suddenly there are two old dragons against one. Rhaenyra is no quitter, she fights until the very end.
No mercy is offered, but even if it was⦠She wouldnāt accept it. Theyāve come too far for this.
āFor Aegon. For Helaenaā, whispers Aemond, cold as ice. āDracarys.ā
The vengeance is complete at last.
*
⢠(V) King and Queen.
āHow couldnāt you tell that you were pregnant?ā, inquires your mother, in awe.
You are holding a beautiful pair of twins whom you name Jaehaerys and Alysanne. Aemond stands by your side, a secretive smile displaying on his lips as he watches over you and the infants. Thereās some mischief twinkling in his eye as he listens to the conversation.
āI was under stress in these days so I assumed it was something like itā, you explain. āIām glad everything ended well, though.ā
āIndeed, in spite of your stubbornness. Even if it wasnāt pregnancy, you shouldnāt have ridden Vermithor in that stateā, your husband protests in such a protectively way that you do not even snack back at him.
āIt was a complicated dayā, you admit, albeit reluctantly.
Aemond presses a gentle kiss over your head and places an arm around your shoulders. He knows he should wait for your churching before seeing you again, but by now the new king of Westeros is paying little mind to these traditions.
When he thinks of how he almost lost youāfirst, with the encounter with Rhaenyra herself; second, in childbirthā, Aemond finds himself weak. Exposed to a different sort of danger he doesnāt venture to know or understand.
āWeāve come a long way hereā, says he. āI cannot believe weāve managed it against every expectation.ā
āOn the contrary, my love, Iāve never doubted you. And you know what? Iād do it again. Everything.ā
That being said, you and your charming prince share a kiss as if to seal this so achieved peace.
*
The twins are barely five months old when you take them for a ride. You laugh quietly when your mother reprehends you for such imprudence.
āAemond! Control your wife, put some sense in her head!ā, so panics Queen Alicent.
Aemond limits himself giving the dowager queen a smirk.
āI do not think she needs to be controlled, mother. Y/N is as capable as any of us, if not better, in terms of parenting.ā
And naturally he takes part in it too. So here you go, mounted in old beasts, showing your babies to the world.
āMy greatest defenderā, you tell your husband, right up in the air. āMy love.ā
Aemond gives you a shy smile, a sight so adorable to behold. He is holding baby Jaehaerys close to his heart, protectively so. The dragons, it must be said, seems to feel that fragile creatures are taking part in this unusual flight so they fly quietly.
There is peace at last. No pretender. No civil war. All sides have been placated. Your brother and sister were avenged.
As you look at you sweet Alysanne, you get a little emotional. This is what you have always wanted. A family of your own.
*
Aemond, First of His Name, has placed his younger brother, the very capable prince Daeron Targaryen, as his hand. This, in due time, would prove to be a very prudent choice.
Wisely, and under your influence, the privy council would have amidst its seaters members who, in the past, supported Rhaenyra and her ill fated claim to the throne. Aemond knew the importance in keeping his allies close and his enemies, closer.
A good deed he would later be praised for was the end of factions. No more favouritism and when the former queen of Westeros, lady Alicent Hightower, came to join the rest of her family in grave, the green color was abolished.
The unity of the house is finally solved. Although there have been rumors that the offspring of Rhaenyra and Daemon are possibly living in secret, the loyalty of the realm has been once for all conquered and transferred to the rightful king Aemond.
Now in the privacy of your household, the ancient seat of your family, here in Dragonstone, Aemond is enjoying his moments with you.
You are content and settled with the role once occupied by your sister Helaenaāand this quiet life and gentle queenship you opted to shape so you are not overshadowed by the great dislike once tossed to your mother, has been very helpful. As it was with your beloved sister, you are as popular.
Thus, Aemond is watching you with amusementāand desireāas you are occupying yourself with sewing. Reclining in the back of his chair, he watches your hair fall loose in your back, which helps shape your oval face, giving you an almost delicate appearance.
Your rosy lips and your neck remind him of these past weeks. Even now you subdue to him, though at times you manage to reverse the roles. When his eyes scan to your full breasts, Aemond, already feeling some rigidness in his pants, sighs loudly.
āYou know whatās being said about you, my dear?ā, impatiently, he moves closer to you, and you are more than happy in setting aside the embroidery.
You smirk at him, having been sensing his lust from that distance. You tease him a little when you unlace your line nightgown.
āWhat is it, husband?ā
As he takes it off and scans your curves, your face still goes crimson. He knows your breasts are larger and thenā¦
āThat I may be the master of Westeros, but you rule it through meā, Aemond pushes you against the wall, lifting your legs so he fits in between.
You barely breathe as a result. But you are smiling at it.
āIs that so?ā
And here comes the teasings. Thankfully, the children are off to bed.
āYes.ā
Aemond is wrapped in your legs and he lifts you up, leading you all the way to bed. Unsurprisingly, you take the opportunity to switch positions.
āAnd what are your thoughts about that?ā
You smirk wide when those lustful eyes stop at your hardened nipples, his hands caressing each. You rub yourself upon his manhood.
Oh boy. It has been some time.
āI cannot think an answer when you are on top of me, my darling.ā
Then, of course, he swaps places again. This time heās your master. The way you like him to.
You help remove his eye-patch and you stroke his face.
āI love you, Aemond Targaryen.ā
āAnd I, you.ā
When he kisses you, when he pins your hands above your head, all else is forgotten.
Specially the fact that you are carrying another child of his.
***
⢠Epilogue
Aemond is teaching young Aegon how to use a sword when sounds explode so suddenly in the yard and the one-eyed king is attacked by no other than his two daughters.
āI told youā, he listens to your voice, a little short breathed, āto let your father be! Come back here, little brats!ā
But the once serious and composed husband is seen laughing heartily when Alysanne is climbing with little Laena in his back.
You are holding the newly born Maekar in your arms, scoffing all the way. This may be the consequences of refusing help of your ladies to handle the children, but you cannot feed this regret when you see your husband so carefree, so happy around them.
āLadiesā, you call them. āYour father is occupied.ā
To your not entirely surprised, he laughs quietly and says the opposite.
āNo. Iām never busy for my family.ā
Aemond holds each and so suddenly what was a private training is a family reunion. Your husband likes it that way: a growing family where thereās nothing but joy and laughters filling the room.
You are somewhat emotional when seeing the scene. With baby Maekar in your arms, you walk to them, at the same time you offer your hand for Aegon to hold.
Itās a lovely day, you think to yourself.
And in due time more would be born. In total, you and Aemond have ten children.
1. Aegon, Prince of Dragonstone, and his fatherās successor. He takes as wife his twin sister.
2. Alysanne, Princess of Dragonstone, who inherited your joyful temper.
3. Laena Targaryen, made Princess of Dorne in due time. A great match arranged by your husband, and some say orchestrated in silence by you, this union would bring Dorne to Westeros.
4. Maekar, Lord of Harrenhal, who may have inherited your beauty, but is every inch like his father. Heād be married to his younger sister.
5. Daenerys Targaryen, Lady of Harrenhal, whose sharp wit wouldāaccording to some gossipersāmake her a general favorite.
6. Aemon Targaryen, sent to Citadel to become a maester. Heād live for a very, very long time, destined to great things.
7. Rhaenys Targaryen, Lady of Winterfell. Sheād be married to hold the support of House Stark after rumors were spread that theyād be supporting some supposed son of Rhaenyra. Curiously, this match proved well for both parties involved and secure the Northern support.
8. Viserys Targaryen, Lord of Summerhall. In due time, he espoused his cousin, Lady Margaery Hightower.
9. Daella Targaryen, Lady of Lannisport. Married to a Lannister. Sheād die young as a consequence of childbirth. Her loss would shake the family, united to the core.
10. Rhaella Targaryen, a general pet. Did not want to marry, preferring to be by your sideāshe was close to you and your husbandāuntil⦠she fell for a knight named Duncan. The rest is history.
This life may not be perfect but itās what you and Aemond aimed. Later, heād say:
āWithout you by my side, Iād not be where I am now.ā
āLikewise, husband. Youāve always seen me, who I really was, and never stepped away. You did not refuse me nor underestimated me. ā
He rests his forehead against yours. Hands intertwined, souls alight. This is what paradise is.
Imagine you were betrothed to Aemond Targaryen until circumstances impeded the match to concretize. Now, years later⦠will you and him be persuaded this is the right timing to amend things?
Warnings: drama, light smut. Long post.
***
⢠I
As the second child and oldest daughter of Lord Gwayne Hightower, you are privileged to be sent to your auntās household and there be raised as her royal ward.
Your Hightower charms do manage to captivate Queen Alicent at the time of your arrivalāas well as King Viserys, by then very alive and in good health, who treats you as his own daughter. In the meantime you are settling at court, you ought to share the same apartments with your royal cousin, Princess Helaena, the first of your regal relatives to make your acquaintance.
āGreetings, Y/N. In green and black wheels, our fortune will gravely depend on it, Iām afraid. But you are a welcome addition to our misadjusted family.ā
At first you do not understand the meaning of her words, however, your kindness speaks louder than reason so you flash her a smileārather than pushing her away as so many have done before, which surprises the princess.
āNoble families are often troubled homes to be raised within, cousin. Every privilege comes with a price and arenāt we all willing to pay for it? Either way, thank you for receiving me. I hope you can find in me a friend to rely on.ā
Initial distrusts put aside, Helaena nods her head. The idea of having a friend melts away her defenses and makes her smile to you.
āDo you like embroidery?ā
āI fear I do not excel at it, but it is a pastime of mineā, you smile warmly.
āVery well. Come and follow my lead, Iād like your help to proceed with my work on it.ā
āGladlyā.
And a bond is now forged.
*
Aemond watches as you walk almost arm in arm with Princess Helaena. You are dressing a green gown with long sleeves and your red hair falls loose behind your back. Some of the curls does in fact remind him of his mother.
But in secrecy the teenaged boy thinks you are prettier than the Queen.
āYou should speak to herā, he struggles to hold back a sigh at the voice of Aegon. āArenāt you doing your duty and welcoming her properly, brother? My, where are your manners?ā
In order to avoid Aegonās annoyance further, Aemond does in fact go after you. Like a shadow, he moves silently. Once spotting you at the gardens, he awaits for the best moment to get to you. With Helaena out of the sight, Aemond takes his chance.
āIf the rumors are true, we are marrying when we reach ageā, you turn around only to spot this long silver haired male who is likely the same age as you, counting three and ten summers.
You curtsy out of respect. Aemond nods his head in turn.
āWell, I wasnāt told of marriage prospects yet, but I would be lucky if this proves to be trueā.
āLucky? I lack my brotherās charmsā, the boy chuckles in abhorrence. āSurely you must have met him.ā
āI believe we have been introduced, yes. But I do not think he has any charms, if anything heās an annoying princeā, you are pleased to find the Targaryen male chuckling. āAnd whom might you be, suitor of mine?ā
Aemond does not admit at first, but you do strike him a positive impression, reminding him of the damsels he used to read about in chivalric novels.
āLord Aemond Targaryen, Madameā, and here he does a proper bow.
āCousin Aemondā, the way you break formalities so easily leaves him disconcerted. āWhat a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Iāve heard about you.ā
āGood things, one hopes.ā
āNaturally so. Would you care to spend the rest of the day with Helaena and I?ā
Aemondās reason urges him to leave you, but his tongue decides otherwise.
āI believe I am free off my duties, so why not?ā
*
Later that evening, one could not stay too far from the other. Aemond soon comes to find out how much you and him have in common. To his surprise you are very educated.
āI prefer the philosophers of the Eastā, you tell him. āThey are deeper in thoughts and observations about life. The ancient ones, in the days of Old Valyria, left some good works.ā
āHowād you reach out to it?ā, asks the prince, impressed.
āWell, living nearby Old Town has some advantagesā, you laugh quietly. āDaeron has helped me with it.ā
Something about his younger brother doesnāt sit well with Aemond. A sensation close to jealousy comes uninvited. But the prince disguises it well, though.
āHowās he by the way? I barely remember him now. Weāve been apart for many years.ā
āHeās doing great and he misses his siblings tooā, you tell him. āIt is very lonely the journey to become a maester. And yet⦠if I can say anything about your younger brother is that he possesses a very sensitive soul.ā
āHum. Probably heād be a better companion than Aegonā, he chuckles low.
This twilight you two are pacing around the castle. For a pair of youth, it is striking to see both of you discussing philosophers, historians and all that is in between. Then as day turns into night and dinner is prepared, you are forced to part ways.
āAre you not coming to join us for dinner?ā, you ask him expectedly.
Aemond isnāt sure how to react about the suddenly expectation he spots in your y/c eyes. He is left again disconcerted. A feeling he doesnāt appreciate at the same time he is found eager to please you.
Why? A voice asks him. But he refuses to find the answer.
āI will⦠just change my robes.ā
Your lips spread in a large smile and it is a sight that warms his heart.
āGood. Iād like to see you there, my lord.ā
āAs you will, my lady.ā
Hesitantly, one says farewell to the other in a very typical young mannerāeven though you and him shall meet within five and ten minutes.
*
You are very pleased to be told you are betrothed to Aemond. The sight of your delight, that you make no effort in disguise, is a good omen to all, and even the wayward prince is not immune to it.
āHow can you be this content in becoming my wife?ā, he asks you when you are found walking towards the yard where the prince is to be trained under the guidance of Ser Criston Cole. āI have no dragon to call mine own.ā
āWhy shouldnāt I be?ā, and you list his virtues and why each one earned you fondness. āA dragon doesnāt make you any less, my dear Aemond.ā
But he cannot find a way to answer you properly for Ser Criston has summoned him to practice. It does little good to his pride when perceiving your presence. Your beaming presence. You are there to support him in ways few of his family ever did.
He casts you a long gaze and you hold it, pleased with the subtle certainty that he feels what you feel too.
*
Nevertheless, itās you who eventually feels like an outcast for not being one who claims a dragon. In this comes your dear Helaena, who says:
āHigh you may fly, but not to skies you will find your might.ā
You cast her a long glance. For a while you donāt speak a word but then curiosity gets the best of you.
āWhat is the price?ā
Helaena ponders whether she can trusts you with her dreams. Eventually though, she realizes you are far more trustworthy with them than most of her relatives ever cared to comprehend such.
āA price of blood, I fear.ā
You nod. Casting a glance to the clouds that begin to wipe out the blue that painted bright skies, you speak:
āWhatās there to come, cousin? What have the Gods spoken?ā
Putting aside her embroidery, Helaena slides to your side. Then she gently takes your hand and holds it quickly, showing in her way her fondness to you.
āIf you are inclined to follow your heart, patience you must nurture for a hard path lies forward to us all.ā
You have nothing else to say, baffled by these prophetic words. Nonetheless, if Helaena is resigned to whatever destiny she sees, you opt to trust in her and take the heels of such advice. After all, you tend to wear your heart on your sleeve.
*
āDo you dance, cousin?ā, this day you and him are set at Dragonstones to attend the funeral of Lady Laena Velaryon, wife to Prince Daemon Targaryen, who died in childbirth.
Aemond took you for a walk around the sands, misliking the whole ceremony. Now, as wind blows a cold breeze, he notices your red curls are made a mess, a victim of weather; a view of wilderness he most appreciates.
āNot if I can helpā, says he with a serene countenance.
āNot even if oneās partner is⦠tolerable?ā
āYou trick me to your will, cousinā, and here he takes hold of your hand. And makes you twirl. āAre you pleased to remove my pride?ā
āYou cannot fault me for your own doings, Aemondā, and you wink at him before getting to start a race.
The prince rolls his eyes, but maybe acknowledges some truth in your word. As he starts to get after you, though, Aemond spots a large creature not too far from where both of you are.
For a moment he stops what heās doing. For a moment, only a flying living old dragon could take his eyes off you.
Vhagar calls him, he knows.
But when you turn your head with your inviting smile, Aemond patiently leaves a new idea for later. Perhaps nothing is too dull in Dragonstone, after all.
An event that might drag both of you to a tragedy droll is set to happen, and who could foretell the consequences of an inconsequent choice?
***
⢠II
Old stones in old piles come to your eyes as the first rays in the morning come through the window glass and wake you up. You stare at that familiar wall, a witness of time, once the keeper of your safety⦠and now turned into golden cages.
You turn at your side of bed. It is a large, wooden made, very cozy indeed. But the warmth of your line blankets annoys you and you toss them aside. Impatience rises in your chest and before you know, your eyes are tearing up again.
I should have gotten used to it by now.
But can one easily accept the task of moving forward after getting to feel loved in the way professed by bards? You could still remember his laughters, his secret smile⦠the long days spent at library, sharing a lecture or when you opted to discuss about eastern old philosophy right at the dinner table, earning a quizzical glance of your royal aunt and an amused one of your regal uncle.
You miss his scent. You miss how unexpectedly he could be when pursuing your fingers and intertwining with his.
Years have gone by. You are not that mischievous, lively child anymore. You are now a damsel, whose prospective future is put on hold.
āOh Aemondā, you move barefoot towards the window and opens it, suffocating, eager for some fresh air. As you do, you come across the sight of green hills and small villages not too far from the castle you spent your early childhood. No sign of clouds, nor even of⦠dragons.
One more day. Even now, your unending hopes are crushed. Again.
āYou cannot forget your promiseā, you whisper angrily in gritted teeth as if heās somewhere unseen. āYou told me youād have my heart until you died, that youād make me your wife. But you are very much alive! Oh, can the Gods be this cruel?ā
When you close your eyes, you can still remember the last day you met. He had lost his eye and the two of you escaped to the sands where stars were the only witnesses of such daring move.
āWill you still be my wife after all of this happened?ā
āI willā, you assured him firmly, your warm hand holding tightly his cold one. āHow dare you consider I would ever leave you?ā
Aemond chuckled. The sound of it was miserable to you. Could he be blamed for it, though? You comprehended him more than heād know.
āI must say I have grown suspicious. Besides, an one eyed prince is not a charming prospective as a husband.ā
āI objectā, and here you force him to look at you, holding his chin gently with your right hand. āI will never forgive myself for not being there when those foolish, stupid kids did that to you. I would gladly take my heart out as proof of my unending loyalty to you.ā
Aemond blushed. A weak, crimson shade of pink painted his pale cheeks. You didnāt know his thoughts, how could you? But they were about you and you alone.
āI could never doubt you, my lady Y/Nickname. Apologies if I misled you to believe so. I just⦠felt so unworthy of your affection.ā Before he could hold his tongue, words were spitted out. āDo you love me?ā
You too blushed underneath moonlight. You were frightened, but more so that heād not correspond you. Even so, despite the uncertainty you felt, you risked speaking the truth.
āI do. I⦠love you, Aemond.ā
Aemond blushed deeper, looking away for a moment. Then he turned at you, open mouthed, ready to give you his heart too⦠when a scowl was heard:
āWell well, it appears we found two besotted younglings prompted to do something only two besotted imprudent younglings intend to do.ā
Uncle Daemonās remark was enough to make one part of the other. Despite the mockery in his tone, used to impede either of you to notice he was in fact with Rhaenyra throughout the day, his words left its mark.
Ever since that day, though, you havenāt seen Aemond again.
*
Aemond stares at the moon, dancing alone in her majesty nightly reign. No stars are seen, no clouds are there to omit her from the mundane sight.
A cold breeze blows his silver locks, messing with his hair. The prince pays no mind to it. Today it is not about the looks nor about the power he is hungry to possess.
Having dismounted Vhagar, and already aware that many troubles lay ahead of him as soon as he walks through that door, Aemondās thoughts that evening go towards you.
āI wish I told her I loved herā, he confided his whore. āEvery night I dream of her face, her y/c eyes and red locks staring at me. Her sweet demeanor haunts me. Like a prey that has outwitted the hunter.ā
āIs it how you perceive the object of your true affections, my prince? A prey that has not fallen the web of your traps?ā
He remembers looking at the older woman quite offended.
āI said no such a thing. She is⦠unreachable now. Literally so, even in my dreams. Y/N is the embodiment of purity, whose virtues are endless. No words can do justice to the goodness she possesses.ā He paused, melancholic somewhat. āIt is just, methinks, that sheās out of my grasp now.ā
āHave you considered writing for her?ā, the maternal tone he never heard in his own mother seemed to smooth his broken heart at that moment, only to cover the pain these words gave him. āShe never knew you loved her too. You have a dragon, Aemond. Whatās there to stop you from purchasing her?ā
āDuties.ā Aemondās embargoed voice broke out of his masked pride. āDuties are the death of love.ā
Whatever happened in the past should remain so. As Aemond crosses the grand door and takes the stairs to get to the Council meeting, though, he cannot conceive that he failed you. For he never wrote to you againādespite all of these promisesā¦
āThere is my brother! Loyal like a houndā, Aegonās voice is enough to make Aemond sweep away the agony heās been through the day. āWhere have you been? Weāve been waiting for you.ā
Aemond opts not to answer. He takes his seat and leaves the talking for the council. The Dowager Queen gives him a look, an inquiry one, but the prince avoids it.
āWellā, Otto finally begins the Council. āApparently, Rhaenyra has not been sufficiently encouraged to make peace, so war it is.ā
Aemond doesnāt like to remember that heās partially the reason why conflict has turned inevitable. Heās still daunted by that monstrous image of Vhagar devouring the Velaryon boy.
He didnāt mean it. But what are intentions when it comes to war?
Perhaps itās for the best that youāve been taken away from me, Y/N.
Aemond never asked why you disappeared, but there was no need to. The Queenās brother thought wise that you continued your education in Oldtownāperhaps more moved by Otto Hightowerās counsel, who was genuinely worried over you concerning the bluntness in Rhaenyraās childrenāespecially after what had happened to Aemond.
He reasonably accepted it, but he also resented it. Whatever it is, he doesnāt accept your absence. It makes no sense to him why you were withdrawn⦠and after what heās done, anger and guilt consume him still.
Despite the angst in his thoughts, this is no time to self scourge. Aemond promptly participates in the council of war, listening to all and making acceptable suggestions here and there.
āDiplomacy failedā, says the prince before the king. āTo war we must wage.ā
The first steps to conquer allies and strength old alliances are thus shaped. Later, without Aemondās acknowledgment, the idea to fortify Houses Targaryen & Hightower through marriage is returned.
āPerhaps we should have Daeron to bring Lady Y/Nā, Otto contemplates.
āIs she going to be safe here?ā, says Alicent, genuinely concerned. āIf she comes over and falls in the enemiesās hands, Gwayne is not going to forgive me for this.ā
āGwayne knows whatās best for our familyās interest. Y/N is too precious to fall simply into Rhaenyraās side. Iāll make sure of that.ā
As the wheel turns, destiny is designed.
***
⢠III
Aemond is vibrating this day. Heās managed to collect great victories in the battles ahead all thanks to the strategies he traces with Aegon. Due to Rhaenyraās incapacity of playing the game of thrones, both brothers seem to finally see eye to eye.
āIt is for the best that we work together on thisā, Aegon tells Aemond one of these days. āNo one wants a safer realm than I do. I know you may judge me unfit for the throne I never wanted, but Aemond⦠we are family. May our differences be set aside for the sake of our cause.ā
War is not a merely word drawn out of bards pens to mark the deeds of men and save for posterity their names. This is not about glory, but a conflict built over anguished, vicious souls, plagued by ambitious.
War is not fought alone, this Aemond knew it well. Aegon has his reasons to fear his younger brother, but he cannot be alone in such a time. They are already doomed for fighting a kin.
āYour cause is mine, Your Graceā, says Aemond, leaving his ambitions aside for the sake of the misadjusted family heās born into. āTo suggest otherwise is a treacherous, incommendable thought.ā
āGoodā, Aegon cannot conceal his relief. āI knew I could count on you.ā
How odd it is to find peace in times of war.
Yet can it be called peace when Aemond is far from it? Plagued by old demons, he is in constant struggle to firm his steps. He cannot trust in anyone of his family, despite affirming his loyalty to Aegon.
But what else is there to be done? He has a role to play and this is no time to getaway of it.
*
Whilst the Seven Kingdoms bleed and burn, you remain safe at Old Town. Occupying yourself with books, embroidery and music have proved to be good to for your mind.
Indeed, Old Town is safe for you in many ways. You could still manage to take philosophy to your bed late night, you could still read how many books you want. You upheld many privileges being the son of Ser Gwayne.
You could dance merrily with Lord Daeron, but he reminded you often of Lord Aemond. And by the end of every night, you are forced to tell that he never loved you for he never bothered to write you.
We are at war, you tell yourself. Perhaps itās for the best.
So you accept this is your fate. Maybe to remain unmarried, which is goodāyour library is still the safe haven you can go to, for you charmed the maesters there and no one can forbid you to touch untouchable books.
But is knowledge a good medication for a broken heart? You are yet to know.
āDaughter of mineā, your fatherās voice startle you; for he is not expected. āI knew Iād find you reading at the gardens again. At times I think you have too much of the Tyrells in youā, says Ser Gwayne, alluding to his wife, Lady Margaery Tyrell, your mother.
You greet him like the devoted daughter that you are.
āWhat is there for me to do? Men sharp their blades and I sharp my brain.ā
Ser Gwayne is proud for the intelligence you have developed. Had you been a son, heād not been concerned over the matters of his succession.
āIf only your brothers had the same concern. But your grandsire knows your worth is too high to be wasted around here.ā
Your heart races, your mind accelerates, but your face remains unreadable.
āWhat is it you mean, dear papa?ā
āWhat I mean is that you are going back to Kingās Landing. Your mother protested against it, for you are our only daughter and these are perilous times to be sent to the capitalā, by the way he sighs, you know Ser Gwayne agrees with his wife. āHowever, your grandsire has better plans for his favourite granddaughter. He wants to marry you off to Lord Aemond Targaryen. I donāt think the old man will rest until he tangles both houses into one same blood.ā
He chuckles and you force yourself to join him in laughters. However, deep inside you feel weak, unwell even. How can this be? To marry him⦠the object of your childish desires, the man whom you opened your heart toā¦and yet never received any token in return.
āIs this certain? Whatās with the rush?ā, you hope you are disguising well your own atonement.
āIt is, itās been agreed at last. The late king lamented profoundly when you left the court, but in all honesty⦠I think you deserved better than a prince like Aemondā, and here your father pauses. āYou must be aware of who heās become. The war has started because of him.ā
It is as if heās expecting you to dissuade him of the idea, perhaps he wishes you to. You look away, finding an excuse to gaze at the flowers that colour the gardens.
True, you are more than aware of what heās become. Some courtiers mock him, calling him a monstrous green in allusion of the Queenās party against Rhaenyraās, which is black. You have the sad news confirmed, albeit reluctantly, from Daeronās mouth.
But this is not who he is, surely. He is proud, arrogant even, shielded in himself. Traits that youāve become familiar with in girlhood. Traits that have not been righteous directed, turning him porcelain skin to iron.
Your reason conceives heās not suited for the sensible woman youāve grown to. Daeron would be a better fit and perhaps your father hopes you to admit that.
To Ser Gawayneāa sore disappointment, youāve made up your mind. Your affection has deeper roots than heād know, and it is firmly planted in you that all else cannot find place in your heart.
āI am not here to change anyone, my father. I take him as who he is.ā
āVery wellā, the lord sighs. āYouāll be sent with Lord Daeron, your cousin. Heāll fly with you to the capital in Tessarion.ā
āI am not afraid of dragons, father.ā You smile and lean to press a kiss on his cheek. āThank you.ā
āIf you are happy, then I am bound by honour to concede it to you, my daughter.ā
The bells of liberty finally begin to ring.
***
⢠IV
Aemond has recently returned after smashing Rhaenys and Meleys. Victory is at last on his side and the prospectives are better. Heās been having an eye at Harrenhal though and heās about to set his way there when heās been summoned by his mother.
How strange. Weāve been barely speaking to. What, in Gods name, does she want?
What happens next is certainly getting out of his senses.
āSonā, she welcomes you with Helaena by his side. His sister is smiling in her own way,
Either something good is about to happen or I am about to fall on a trap. It is unusual to find contentment in Helās face.
āMotherā, he nods his head, keeping his guard high. āYou summoned me.ā
āI did. You may think I have forgotten that my son is to be wedded, but I have not.ā
Aemond is discomforted. A dangerous topic that he learned to despise ever since you departed. But he keeps his expression neutral.
āI have no inclination to be married whatsoever.ā
āI believe you may change your mindā, to his surprise it is Helaena who speaks. āWe are bringing her back, Aemond.ā
A shiver crosses his spine.
No. This cannot be.
āHer?ā, he plays cynical.
āYes. Lady Y/N is coming with your brother. Itās time for you to settle down, my dear child.ā
Aemond feels a fuel of anger and resentment. Mostly because years separated you two, but the powerlessness of taking you back, to let you go.
Despite the confusion, nothing betrays his composed mask.
āI wasnāt consulted about this.ā
āNo one is hardly consulted where marriages are concernedā, Alicent laughs away. āBesides, I thought you liked her.ā
Aemond doesnāt answer.
āWell, sheās coming soon. You better not disappoint.ā
*
But heās been anxious. Restless. No news of war can take his mind off you. He could have written about you, but his insecurities took the best of him.
When you departed, there was no warning. Neither was consulted about the matter, apparently. And yetā¦
A sound of dragon breaks the silence of the night. Aemond knows this is Daeronās. And you are coming too. The prince leaves the yard and moves to the dragonās pit.
He realizes a little too late that the whole family is there to welcome you. The prince opts to stay in the shadows, watching from a safe distance.
His good eye is mesmerized by how handsome youāve grown into. Your hair is as red as he remembers; your curls, just as wild, a victim of wind. But you have curves now; your breasts are full and large, your hips giving a positive indicator of your fertility.
Your face⦠is just as divine as it was in his boyhood days. Your traces softened, and your lips still easily spread in a gentle smile.
You havenāt changed a thing, dear Y/N.
Aemond, troubled by the reminiscences of what has never been dissipated as he had hoped, quickly leaves. But for how long will he be able to avoid you?
*
You conceal the disappointment for not seeing him there to welcome you. But what could you expect when you two parted without saying goodbye?
āHeās coming soonā, Helaena tells you assuringly. āNo need to worry, my cousin.ā
āOh, I am not worried. Not at allā, you smile as convincingly as possible.
But itās difficult to keep your composure when heās not present to attend the feast given on your behalf. The sound of music does not entertain your earsāit is as if Old Townās tune was merrier. Or perhaps it all feels cold because heās not there.
However, a distraction comes in the person of Daeron, to whom youāve grown close in the days spent back home.
āShall we dance, cousin? What a waste of beauty to stay here, away of the light.ā
You chuckle lightly as you cede him your hand.
āWhy, your flatter me with your poetic soul, Daeron. Let us dance then like the last time.ā
In this moment, you donāt see him coming discreetly to take his place by his side. You miss his stare, his longing gaze following your steps. And yet⦠when you do meet his eyes, you take every control you have to act in a nonchalant manner.
Oh Aemond. How come years have gone by and you affect me so?
Heās now a handsome lad. Handsomer indeed than youāve pictured him. Taller and serious, using an eyepatch to uncover the eye that was taken from him in that unfair circumstance you remember.
It feels impossible to reach out for you. Oh, Aemond. Please do not lock me outside.
Music ends after what it seems an eternity. There is no need to Daeron lead you back to your seat for this is a task Aemond takes himself.
āLady Y/N Hightowerā, the prince greets you formally and it hurts you to detect cold in his voice. You swallow back the tears and you remember to curtsy.
āMy lord Princeā.
Aemond offers you his hand and he can tell that he affected you, perhaps not in the same way he wanted, for you hesitate before taking it. Cold and warm mix, like last time.
āMay I lead you out of this spectacle?ā
āIf the king permitsā¦ā
āI do not think he cares.ā
Silence hangs. You nod your head, afraid of bursting into tears right before the crowd. Perhaps your father has been right in protecting you. Who is this man you are now betrothed to?
For a while, undetected, the pair leaves the salon. Itās late by now and by this hour wine has had its effects. Somewhere close to yard is where Aemond stops walking. When you turn at him, heās no longer cold.
āYou left me, Y/N.ā
Oh. Here it is. The subtle accusation. But itās better than nothing, you tell yourself.
āI wasnāt told I would depart to Old Town, Aemond. I did not give my consent to it, but we both know how little power, if we have any at all, do we possess to command our destiny.ā
Aemond avoids your gaze for a moment and you recollect his fragilities. You dare to shorten the distance and hold his hand. To your surprise, he does not shy away as your fingers lace.
āDo you honestly believe I left you because I wanted to? After all I told you?ā
āWhat else could I have thought, Y/N?ā
āYou could have asked. You could have said anything.ā And there they are: the puddle of water. āYou never wrote me in these years!ā
Aemond closes his eye, breathing heavily. Despite you trying to let go of his hand, he keeps holding yours firmly. Only then, you see pain in his eye when he opens it again.
āI was miserable when you left me alone in this world.ā
āAs if!ā, you hiss. āYou never cared for me!ā
You turn away from him, instantly regretting for this decision to come up and try again. Youād think heād leave you, but Aemond is no quitter.
āI love you, Y/Nā, he pulls you against him one more time, this time closer than before. āI was stolen the chance to tell you that I love you! I fucking loved you! I could not find a replacement for the nest you made in my heart, nor could fix the hole you left in me!ā
āThen whyā, you sob, ādidnāt you write?ā
āBecauseā, he pauses, and here he lifts your chin after wiping away your tears, āI was afraid.ā
āAfraid of what?ā
āOf never being sufficiently enough for you. Hence why I figured that a better match was found to you. I thoughtā¦ā, the prince chokes for a moment, struggling to hold back his own tears. āI thought youād not love me anymore after I lost my eye.ā
You cup his cheeks and make sure this time he looks at you.
āHow dare you to nurture this thought? I have loved you since the first day I put my feet on this soil. I have known not other sentiment but the deepest shades of affection from the day you comforted me. I⦠I would never take anyone but Aemond Targaryen as my husband.ā
A small smile tugs at his lips.
āI am unlovable, dear Y/N. Havenāt you heard what Iāve done?ā
āNo one is unlovable. I am not here to fix your wrongs, Aemond. I am here to help you make your rights.ā
āYouāre not leaving now.ā
This is not a question. You smile.
āNo. I am staying.ā
Saying so, he leans forward and locks his lips with yours. You breathe in, dive into it.
Heās finally yours and you are finally his.
***
⢠V
Youād not think, nor Aemond, that the Gods amused themselves by testing the veracity of what one felt for the other. That the love surpassed years and obstacles is, some would say, an indication of divine favor.
But this is not what troubles your or his mind. When his lips are against yours, when his hands are locked with yours, when your legs are wrapped around his waist, when he is pleasing you⦠oh these past ghosts are long exorcized.
āI adore youā, he whispers against your ear, kissing your neck as he caresses your left breast. āFuck, I am yours, eternally yours, Y/N.ā
You moan loudly, singing out his name. Your hand is now against his hair, using the other to crave your nails into his skin, getting a groan out of his lips.
āMy husbandā, you bite his bottom lip. āI love you. Oh Gods! I cannot believe this is not a dream.ā
āNot at allā, he smiles at you. āItās you and me throughout time, dove.ā
āNo more whoring I prayā, you tease him, aware of his encounters with the woman of the brothel.
āI thought you knew that already. Never more.ā
And saying so he dives into your neck, there staying until his eager mouth slips to your chest.
The synchronicity is so good that doesnāt take much time before you and him reach climax together.
āMm, stay hereā, you lock him with your legs. āDo not remove it out of me.ā
Aemond laughs quietly as you smile, gently touching his face and his sapphire eye.
āNaughty uh?ā
āWe must compensate for the time wastedā, you tease him.
As he lies his head next to your shoulder, thus cuddling against you, you take the time to hold him tight, unwilling to break the spell. However, Aemond knows the inevitable must be said.
āWe must discuss something, beloved. I am expected to take Harrenhal.ā
Although you know this could not be postponed, you avoid his gaze and keep quiet for the moment. But Aemond knows you, and he sees the struggle in keeping yourself composed, the anxiety coming to your countenance.
He lifts his face and caresses your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.
āI told you Iāll love you until the day I die and I have no intention to leave you a widow so soon.ā
āItās not that I donāt have faith in you, but you understand youāll face experienced warriors in thereā¦ā, and despite the efforts, fear comes to the speech.
āIt may take a while, but Iāll beat those fools. I must do it for my brotherās sake.ā
āVery wellā, you know there is nothing you can do before his stubbornness⦠and his loyalty to the green cause.
āY/Nā¦ā, he looks anxious now and you are surprised to find it in his features. āI cannot wage wars knowing you didnāt give me your blessing.ā
You break to a soft smile, turning to his side and stroking his long face and hair.
āI consent, my husband. But do not dare to leave me alone in this world.ā
āNever.ā
To assure you he means it, he kisses you passionately. Not too soon after that, you and him burn the bed with the awake of long repressed desires one feels for the other.
***
⢠Epilogue
With the green victory uncontested, peace remains at long last. Despite the bad fame, Harrenhal is your new home and you are its new lady.
Whatever opposition you might find when your husband came to pick you up with Vhagar, none was left to resist the new residents.
Throughout the long reign of Aegon II the Wise and Good Queen Helaena, you provided Aemond a bunch of children to turn this gloomy castle into a merry and lousy household. These are:
1. Aerys and Rhaella, a pair of twins, who would keep the Targaryen tradition.
2. Rhaegar, raised in Oldtownāwould marry a cousin Tyrell.
3. Visenya, many years later married to Maegor, third son of King Aegon & Queen Helaena.
4. Daena, would be married to Lord Brynden Tully of the Riverlands.
5. Baelor, would be raised as a squire at the capital and turned out to marry another child of Aegon & Helaena, a daughter they had named Alyssa. A coincidence of the fate? Who knew?
6. Maekar, later sent to become a Maester at the Citadel.
7. Aegon, later made lord of Summerhall. Heād take as wife his younger sister.
8. Alysanne, probably your favourite daughterāsheād grow to marry the brother she loved best, the lively and chivalric prince Aegon.
An ending very fitting for a love that was tested by time and won it over without much need of persuasion.

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Imagine you are Aemond and Helaenaās daughter.
Warnings: none; fluff all the way; alternative universe where⦠uh, Rhaenyra and Aegon are actually married and there is no civil war.
***
⢠Stage One: To Be a Toddler.
You are actually a merry child. One so vivid and full of joy, prompted to mischief. Unusually early, you like to go after your father. In one of these days, you are brought to Vhagar.
āAlways restless, my dear Y/Nā, says he when lifting you up and holding you on his arms. Aemond smiles in his own way at you, his lingering good eye admiring your chubby faces and wondering how could he have made a child so pure. When you smile back, he melts down completely. āOne wonders why.ā
āVhagarā, you say lazily, still smiling.
Aemond chuckles quietly. He ruffles your long silver hair, lingering in his touch on your cheek and pinching it lightly.
āVhagar, really? You really liked that old hag, didnāt you?ā
The one eyed prince does not think there is a more adorable sound than when you burst into childish giggles.
āI love Vhagar. Daddy, sheās so big and⦠andā¦ā, you grown, hating to forget the word youāve learned recently.
Seeing how much you aim to please him, Aemond is patient.
āItās a word uncle Aegon taught me!ā, you try to justify yourself.
Aemondās smile is quickly wiped out of his face. He furrows his eyebrows.
āI beg your pardon?ā
āYou need not to beg, papa. Youāve done nothing wrong.ā
The prince chuckles, but you can tell heās worried by the look on his face.
āCome now, what did dear uncle Aegon teach you, Y/N?ā
āWeeeeellā¦ā
āY/Nā¦ā
You know you should not test longer. Aemond really hopes there is nothing to be anxious about, though.
āHe said Vhagar is gross!ā, you quickly put both of your chubby hands over your mouth and your eyes go wide. Thereās a mix of amusement, mischief and concern altogether as you wait for some snap.
But Aemond is rarely snippy with you. The prince laughs quietly instead, his shoulders relaxing.
āIf she is gross, why do you like her?ā
Suddenly the prince remembers Helaena, when she loved bugs and other⦠bugs at a young age. The memory makes him smile fondly.
āBecause she is legendaryā, you explain as-a-matter-of-factly. āBesides, gross is not necessarily a bad thing. Can we fly now daddy? Pleeeeeease?ā
Heās starstruck by your precocious wit. As he agrees to do what you requested, he remembers nostalgically how you came to this world.
***
Helaena always followed Aemond when they were younglings. Somehow the taste for books and studies set the two of them even closer. Before Aemond lost an eye, he came to discover that his dear sister had visions of some kind.
āIt is a trait that comes from our ancestors. Magic comes with a priceā, she told him then.
āWhat can I do to relief your burden, Helaena?ā
It was when she touched his hand for the very first time. Aemond could recollect how right it felt when their fingers intertwined, hands awkwardly moulded. Sentiments that escaped the common scope looked obvious.
āYour friendship is sufficient, my dear Aem.ā
But in due time it proved to be insufficient. Helaena was welcomed in Aemondās chambers when she had nightmares. These consolations led to discoveries⦠which resulted in an early pregnancy.
Helaena was no more than six and ten summers; Aemond, five and ten, when you were conceived. Quickly, they married.
And just as quickly they moved to Summerhall.
***
When Aemond takes you to fly Vhagar, the one eyed prince notices youāve been quiet. He takes a quick look wondering if youāve fallen asleep, but heās surprised by how attentive you are.
Y/N has inherited some of me, I see it now. Laena likes to say Y/N has her beauty, but my iron.
As he smiles at the recollection, Aemond asks you:
āWhat is my dear daughter thinking of?ā
āI want to reclaim my dragon, daddy.ā
Aemond sighs. Again, he is remembered of Helaenaās vision.
It came actually two months after you were born. His wife was struggling to sleep and this was a sign she was disturbed by something.
āWhat is it, my love? What is troubling you?ā
āI cannot be sure what it isā, she sounded anguished as she took his hand and Aemond tried to remain calm. Helaena had to take her time when visions shook her. āY/N carries the spirit of our house. She will not be like any other. I cannot be sure what it is. But she must be let to follow her path and reclaim a dragon herself.ā
āI assumed sheād sleep with an eggā, it was all Aemond could tell.
āNo.ā
āYou make it sound bad.ā
āI do not wish to make her a queen, Aemond. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.ā
āA queen?ā
But seeing Helaena would say nothing more, Aemond calmed his restlessness and held her close. He knew she needed him by her side, not any of his inquiries.
āWe will do the best we can do to raise our little princess. I promise you.ā
She looked up at him and smiled.
āI love you, Aemond Targaryen. I could have not chosen a better man to be the father of my children.ā
And that was also the day she conceived their second child, a boy nine moons later born, named Maegor.
Back to the moment, Aemond clears his throat and says:
āAll in due time, daughter. You must bear patience. Methinks Vhagar would be jealous if she knew you want a dragon for yourself.ā
Itās enough to take your mind off the matter. And as if to confirm Aemondās remark, the old dragon turns her head and gives you a look. You swear she buffed too.
āOh no, Vhagar! Donāt be jealous! I love you and youāll always be my favourite!ā
That strangely seemed to calm the old hag and Aemond looks pleased it all ended well.
*
Helaena is welcoming her sister Rhaenyra and her family when she spots you running around the castle with six year old Jacaerys. The oldest son of Aegon and his wife is the heir to King Viserysās throne after Aegonās own rise to the throne. He is a handsome and very smart young man who seems to have taken a like of you.
āYou stare at themā, muses Aemond, who silently puts himself beside his wife. He knows when these visions come and go. But not only that, he is acutely aware how welcoming the whole family partyāwhich will soon be joined by the king and the queenācan be too much for her. āIs there something I should worry about?ā
āNoā, Helaena gives Aemond a small, but confident smile. She touches his arm discreetly, not too firm nor too weak. Itās a good vision, he understands. āHe will make her happy.ā
Aemond doesnāt like the idea of seeing you married too soon. Noticing this, she chuckles.
āMy husband, you do not expect me to believe that Y/N is going to be a toddler for all her life, do you?ā
He sighs, but does not answer. His good eye holds back a shadow of sadness as he sees you running after the curly haired Jacaerys.
***
⢠Stage Two: To Be A Child.
You have just recently celebrated your ninth name day. Aemond is keeping an eye on you as you are at the beach with a small group of friends, all of whom are your cousins: Jacaerys, Lucerys, Visenya and Baela. They are all talking about dragons.
A topic that, Aemond knows, can be somewhat sensitive to youāand this gives him some shivers. He remembers how his own cousins, Rhaegar and Baelor, sons of Lord Daemon and Lady Laena, mocked him because he didnāt reclaim any dragon. It costed him an eye. And he prayed nothing the same would occur to you.
Aemond is trying not to look very anxious when itās Helaena who comes for his aid. She had excused from her sisterās adorable company to join her husbandās abrupt exile under the excuse of watching over the children.
But she knows what really troubles him.
āShe is not like you. And they are not like them.ā
Aemond limits to side eye at his wife.
āIs sheā¦?ā
āNo.ā
āBut thenā¦ā
Helaena sighs.
āShe is your daughter, she has some stubborn traits that you are to blame forā, she smiles. āGive them a chance. They are the next generation.ā
āYou let her too looseā.
āAnd you hold her too tight. This is not the way. Believe me, my dear. She will be fine.ā
*
A third child came and suddenly your family is one of three. After Maekar, a boy named Jaehaerys has joined Summerhall.
āYou must give me a companion, mamaā, you pout. Today you are having an embroidery lesson with her. āIt is not very fair when Maegor has a companion and I donāt.ā
Helaena gives you a loving glance.
āOur family is growing big indeed.ā And then she looks fondly at your father.
When you follow her gaze, you smile to yourself. You do sigh over at how devoted Helaena and Aemond are to each other.
This afternoon, Aemond is spending some time with his boys. Maegor being the oldest is trying to show off his best traits to his father, who doesnāt hesitate in appreciating his efforts.
Since it is raining outside, the family gathering is occurring just as fine until Maegor comes to tease you.
āDid you know, dear sister, that my dragon egg has hatched?ā
Aemond is rocking baby Jaehaerys when he notices Maegor is not around.
āWhat about it?ā, you pretend to find sewing interesting.
āItās beautiful, really. It has blue scales.ā And then the inevitable happens. āSoon it will grow and Iāll fly with it next to Vhagar. Youāll be left behind and no one will remember you.ā
āSHUT UP, YOU STUPID FOOL!ā
And to a general surprise, you stand up and slap his face hard. Aemond quickly comes at you, partially shockedāand secretly amused, since heās been watching the scene from afarābut you escape everyoneās possible snort in tears.
āMaegorā, Helaena sighs as she tends her crying boy. āYou shouldnāt have teased your sister.ā
Aemond and his wife exchange looks. Itās very fitting that he, after reluctantly giving away his baby to a maid, goes to you.
Unsurprisingly, you are found pacing towards the yard. But something stops you from going out, despite the riot that so violently came upon your chest: it is the sound of those steps you are so familiar with.
āNow now dear Y/Nickname. What has come to fall upon my little princess?ā
You run to your father, who is on his knees expecting you to do so. Whenever you felt distressed by something, this was how he welcomed you. Indeed it is a safe haven for you and Aemond knows it.
He sees so much in you and part of him blames himself for sharing this old wound with you.
This shouldnāt be it, Y/N. Youāll never know how I lament this to be it.
āSing me that song, please.ā
Aemond smiles at you. Itās a secret he shares with you. Whilst indeed Daeron is the one more apt to this function, once upon a time Aemond discovered that, thanks to you, singing old poems calmed your fears.
Whatever it takes to make my princess safe.
Choosing a song named Ode to Visenya, here father and daughter forget that time is passing and with it, all that childhood means⦠at the same time that he proves to be a better father than his own ever were where his infancy was concerned.
After a moment, you two are outdoors, at the yard, watching rain fall.
āYou shouldnāt have slapped your brother, Y/N.ā
You swear Aemond is smiling, but you donāt take your chances to bet on it.
āI cannot say I regret standing up for me. If I do not do so, then who will?ā
So much like her father. Aemond looks at you, a hint of pride in his good eye making you smile and lean against him.
āRegardless, child. You are a princess, you must know when it is time to wage wars.ā
āDoes this mean I can be taught sword lessons when I grow up?ā
Aemond looks at you for a moment. He should ask his wife first, but how can he deny you anything? His first child, his only daughter.
āWill you behave?ā
āYes, I promise! I promise I shall not slap the thwartā¦ā
āHeās still your brother, Y/Nā, Aemond scowls at you.
āSorry. But I promise, yes.ā
āThen I will teach you myself.ā
Aemond swears heās never seen such a bright face before. The light in your eyes almost makes this iron prince get to tears.
āI love you, daddy.ā You say as you hug him tight.
ā¦.
āI love you too, my dear girl.ā
*
āI shouldnāt be surprised that you are coming to tell me you are teaching our only girl to practice with swordā, says Helaena in such a casual tone that Aemond believes there should be an accusation where in truth there is none.
āAnd are you?ā
With the children asleep, the two are settling their own nest. Aemond is thankful for this moment, where privacy is finally unbroken.
āShe is a princess, Aemondā, Helaena gives her husband an amused glance, as if she knows things he doesnāt. āMother would be horrified if she knew.ā
āThankfully, she is too occupied with her business in Kingās Landing to be meddling in how we raise our childrenā, says Aemond, still somewhat resented that his mother is as absent now as she was before.
Helaena comes by his side and gently touches his face, making him look at her. As she does so, the princess removes his eyepatch and leans to kiss his forehead.
āShe loves us in her own wayā, then she melts in his embrace.
Aemond presses a kiss over her forehead, holding her tight. They stay like this for a while until the prince asks:
āWhat will be of our dear Y/N?ā
Helaena looks up at him with amusement glinting in her lilac gaze. She smiles when she points it out:
āY/N is really your favourite, isnāt she? Please be careful about it, or our sons will be jealous. Well, her future is not something that will get us preoccupied.ā
That night, Aemond Targaryen slept a lot better.
*
You are visiting your aunt Rhaenyra and your uncle at Dragonstone again when you are told that there is a red dragon located at the dragonās pit.
āReally?ā, you ask Jacaerys. āHowād you know?ā
āFather says that the old dragons like it there better. Itās like home for them, which makes sense considering their history.ā
āHumā, you say.
āYouāre not considering going there, are you? No one has tamed Vermithor for decades since King Jaehaerys diedā, Jacaerys gives you a concerned look.
But you do not give away your bold side just yet. You smile and dismiss his concerns by assuring him that you wonāt do such a thing. In the meantime you two are speaking, here we follow to the adults conversation.
Sitting in the higher table are Rhaenyra and her husband, as well as Aemond and Helaena. They are expecting to welcome King Viserys and Queen Helaena with their youngest son Daeron in the next day.
āI have news to shareā, says a mischievous Rhaenyra after a while.
āIāve noticed you havenāt drank your wine, dear sisterā, Helaena giggles quietly. āOne wonders why.ā
āGood Godsā, Aemond raises his eyebrows at Aegon. āWho knew this would come too far?ā
āYou ruined the news like always, Aemondā, says Aegon, amused. āBut in truth.. aye, few would say an arranging as this would blossom to something good and provide to be a right decision.ā
āTalk about it. How many children came of it?ā, Aemond could not help himself, chuckling as he is elbowed by his wife.
āAemondā, she snaps at him. āDonāt be mean.ā
āHardly mean, sisterā, interferes Rhaenyra amused. āThe children are good. And speaking of themā¦ā
āJacaerys is very fond of Y/Nā, muses Aegon. āWeād think he and Visenya were pairing well, but Visenya prefers Lucerys whilst Baela has rather been good friends with Maegor.ā
Aemond notices how Helaena suddenly appears more pompous. This time heās the one who quietens. Marriage is not his expertise field and as he notices the group of children playing, he cannot foresee them married. Or maybe heās just being protective.
Indeed as it seems, Maegor and Baela are getting along just fine: the former reads and the latter listens. A sight that actually leaves a good impression on Aemond, who had his own doubts about Maegorās interest in studies.
He keeps an eye at the maid whoās holding baby Jaehaerys before noticing you, Visenya, Jacaerys and Lucerys discussing⦠dragons. Again. This time Aemond narrows his eyes, waiting for some strange burst or abrupt humor swift. He side smirks to himself at your composed self, but in fact the prince detects some familiar determination that honestlyā¦. He isnāt sure if he wants to find out the reason behind it.
āAemondā, Helaena summons him impatiently. āThe children are doing good, thank you. May you be more considerate in this matter? What do you think?ā
Murmuring an apology, Aemond doesnāt shy away of what heās asked of. But Helaena knows the difficulty in doing so. However, the princess is certain that a merry path is underway. All they must do now is sow the seeds.
In the meantime their future is planned, you are found playing with your cousins.
āI have a dream of flying with Silverwing to Winterfellā, says Jaehaerys. āMuch like our forefathers did.ā
āYouāve claimed Silverwing?ā, you cannot help admiring. āHow bold!ā
āI was not allowed to mount Vermithor for a strange reason. But alas Silverwing is such a good girlā, Jaehaerys smiles warmly.
āSilverwing was matched to Vermithorā, Visenya meddled, somewhat maliciously.
You cast her cousin a long gaze, but opt to remain quiet. Seeing you donāt buy the bait, or at least it is what Visenya assumes, topics are changed. But little they know what you are to do this evening.
*
āY/N looks restlessā, Aemond muses as he lies next to Helaena.
The princess is mute for a moment. She turns to face her husband.
āIt is her moment, Aemond.ā
āShe is claiming her dragonā, but the prince doesnāt take it well. Itās up to Helaena to tell him what she has seen your future so far.
āLook, there is something you must know about Y/Nā¦ā
*
You walk barefoot the moment your feet reach the sand. Under moonlight you opt to trace your steps to Vermithor cave through an unknownāor rather an unusualāpath that few are familiar with.
Itās risky. You know. Part of you wonders if this is right, but if Jacaerys has claimed Silverwing⦠You blush. Pairing the dragons together has only been done once and it was done so by your great-grandparents Jaehaerys I & Alysanne.
But you want to prove your parents that you are not delicate as they see you. In the end⦠you want to be seen as bold as your cousins, as Targaryen as any of them.
Here you are. Holding a torch to light your way, you enter unprotected through it. The great red-ish winged being opens its eyes and stares at you, distrusted.
A loud groan echoes through the cave, and the sound may as well be mistaken to an earthquake. But you do not quake in fear, despite looking paralyzed as the large old dragon comes at you as if you are ready to be burnt.
Itās when death comes so close that you lift your chin and tell Vermithor:
āI am my fatherās daughter and I will claim you, Vermithor.ā
The dragon spits fire as if to defy you. You escape barely of losing your life, but you proceedāeven if your body shakes and your conscience questions your audacity.
āLIKYRI, VERMITHOR! DOHAERAS!ā
A little girl. Nine moons and counting. Giving such a command to a dragon almost as old as time. It could end very bad.
But it does not. Vermithor doesnāt spit fire. It bows towards you.
And you smile proudly.
āLike my father. We are in this together, Vermithor.ā
As poets later say, like father like daughter.
And this is not the ending, it is just the beginning.
Imagine you can fix him. No, really, you can.
Warnings: drama, angst and (explicit) smut; long post; some canon divergenceā¦
***
Youāve been raised at court as part of Princess Helaenaās retinue. Due to your noble status, this isnāt different any other lady of your station mightāve expected.
You have grown close to the princess, and the two of you are very good friendsāmore like sisters, truthfully. Due to your similar nature, both of you found yourselves reading, sewing and dancing when possible.
But as you grew, you eventually found another companion to spend your time at court with. The second wayward son of King Viserys, Lord Aemond.
Hereās how all it beganā¦
***
⢠(I) Broken infancy.
Right after the mess where the Queen confronted her stepdaughter about what had happened between Rhaenyraās offspring and Aemond, you opt to go after him.
Itās dark. Itās late and you should be elsewhere, but you pay little mind to these rules. You find Aemond outdoors, sitting in the stairs as if heās contemplating quietly the price paid for losing an eye.
You think you hear a sniff, but youāre not sure. You wait until silence is absolute before making yourself announced.
āL-Lord Prince.ā
Aemond turns abruptly, completely out of guard. He hates the vulnerability, but before he can come out with a snark response, you step forward and say:
āI do not mean to intrude. But⦠may I offer you company?ā
The boy looks at you with distrust.
āWhat are your business here, Lady Y/LN? You should be with my sister.ā
āI was worried about youā¦ā
āI donāt need your pityā, and saying so he spits out.
āYou donātā, you agree calmly even if youāre shaken inside. āBut everyone needs a friend.ā
There is a small pause where you anxiously wait for him to give you some space. Eventually he does since thereās no one around.
āWell. Helaena doesnāt like many people, but here you are, the only one she actually spends time withā, mumbles Aemond.
You smile before taking a seat by his side.
āIt appears so.ā
Neither of you speak for a while. You know Aemond is still getting used to your company, so you speak nothing.
āIām sorryā, you tell him.
The prince casts a look at this y/c haired lady of the house y/c dressed in the manner of the Hightower. Despite the remaining distrust in his eyes, you know he reads you.
What a process to forge a bond, and yet here you are.
āFor what? You did nothing wrong.ā
āNo. But I lament for the loss you went through.ā
āWellā¦ā, and here he inclines his head towards the great shadow flying over the dark skies. āIt was worth the dragon I reclaimed.ā
āLike every Targaryen before you.ā
Something about you said seems to knock his defenses down. However this isnāt something Aemond is prepared to admit. Yet.
***
⢠(II) Darkness & Light.
Aemond keeps an eye on you as much as you keep an eye on him. Youāve grown to a handsome woman, wearing gowns that reinforce your curves even though nothing in your actions deem other than innocence.
You and Helaena are almost twins. Could be so had you been birthed by Queen Alicent. Perhaps this is why Aegon looks down on you as much as he does to his sister-wife.
But the wayward, gloomy Prince, who at times opts to find his path towards his⦠whore, cannot divert away of you.
In fact, he is rather surprised to see you gravitating towards him just as he leaves the room.
āY/Nā, Aemond whispers your name, hands behind his back, not turning his head to welcome you⦠and because he hopes you donāt spot a slight, timid smirk that forms on his lips due to your presence.
āMy dear Aem. Going to practice with Ser Criston again?ā
You purposely link your arm to his, nudging his side playfully to tease him the way you know he doesnāt like.
But the prince canāt get rid of you, can he?
āLike always.ā
āMay I watch it?ā
āIf you want to.ā
Aemond knows silence is not your best trait, something that he, in fact, appreciates.
āIāve noticed youāve been out of my sight againā, you muse, eyeing him closely.
He avoids your gaze, aware of what you talk about. But why does he feel a hint of shame knock his pride?
āHumā, itās all he says.
You sigh heavily. By how you breathe heavily, Aemond knows you are about to lose your temper.
āDonāt āhumā at me, Aemond Targaryen. Youāve been whoring again, havenāt you?ā
To your surprise, he stops abruptly, turning at you in such a way that makes you blush. Aemond reads you, him too baffled when discovering you might actually have feelings for him.
How else would you feel so possessive towards me, Y/Nickname?
Today, your hair is tied in two perfectly braids. They are long enough to fall over your waist, Aemond notices. Your eyes are livid, he can tell the amount of repressed feelings that are behind the colour that paints themāand he is intrigued to know what these are.
You are chewing your bottom lip, a sign of nervousnessāhe never took you for an insecure person.
Are you afraid of losing me?
And then thereās something about the gown, green like always, that makes him want to rip it. He can tell your breasts are tied⦠and he wants to release the pressure this gown is making on them. Suddenly, comes to his mind a scene where he is sucking your nipples, rubbing one with his thumb all the whilst using his tongue to play with the other.
Perhaps youād like that, Y/N. To be treated well. Perhaps youād be a better replacement than my whore.
Indecent thoughts that he cannot sweep off his mind, but that his mind plays a good effort to it because you are a good precious damsel who doesnāt serve to be part of his dark, sinful self.
And yet⦠what he sees in you is the light that blinds him. Another sight he cannot lose. So he does whatās best of him to do: push people away.
āHow does this concern you, Lady Y/N? Youāve been a good friend, but you are nothing more to me.ā
Words that shouldnāt have come out this way. But they do. When seeing the hurt in your eyes, Aemond knows the weight of his lies. Suddenly, he realizes he wishes he could be saved.
And you, as his savior, have been pushed away.
āI am not quitting on youā, you wear your prideful mask, which intrigues him. āStill going to watch your practice though. Besides, I was only asking⦠because of your mother.ā
Aemond cannot amend the awkwardness, but his mind screams at him for not bothering in doing so.
āI know.ā
So he turns his back on you. And to his consternation, you stay.
*
Whilst Aemond practices with his sword, you shut yourself in your world. Your eyes are carefully down whenever a courtier passes byāyou detest to get the male attention, not when you wish for more on Aemondās part.
But you little foolish thing, he doesnāt want you. The prince sees you as a friend, is all. An extension of Helaena.
You struggle with your tears as this thought occurs you, but perhaps this isnāt so bad, is it? Duty often sacrifices sentiments. Perhaps you should tell your sister, Queen to be, that you are ready to marry and then⦠stay away of him for good.
But the courage in this decision soon dissipates the moment you raise your eyes and find Aemond staring at you.
And you know youāve been trapped.
***
⢠(III) Scars.
You are about to slip under your blankets when the door of your bedchambers are abruptly opened. You are frightened when hearing the sound due to your exposed state: your line nightgown poorly covers your nipples and you still have no time to throw robes to cover yourself when he stands before you.
Distressed, anguished. In who he really is. In one broken state youāve only seen once.
You forget yourself when you run to hold Aemond Targaryen in your arms.
āMy loveā, you whisper, letting him sob. āMy princeā.
You pull him to yourself, the only one Aemond trusts with his being. The only one he knows he can be himself, with his scars and open vices. He clings onto you, he digs his fingers onto your waist, letting him be guided to your bed before burying his head against your belly.
You can only imagine what had struck him like this. A feast of demons over his head, each fighting for his flesh. And yet you are here, battling against them.
When he finally stops sobbing, he looks up at him. Youāve never seen him so fragile, so famine for affection. And here you are. Providing what he needs.
āTell me allā, you whisper.
āI do not want to. Youāll find a monster in meā, and yet he holds onto your hips, fearful youād let go of him.
āYou are not a monster, Aemond. You may have some vices, but you are a human being like anyone elseā, you tell him gently. āCome here.ā
Aemond obeys you, sitting in front of you.
āLet me tend youā, you whisper. āIāll prepare your bath.ā
āY/Nicknameā¦ā, he holds your wrist firmly.
āI wonāt leave you. I wonāt abandon youā, you assure him. āDo you trust in me?ā
Aemond nods his head.
āMy boy, then let me bath you. Besidesā, and here you dress your best smile. āYou smell like old dragon.ā
Finally something that pulls out a smile of him. As he sits there, you are quick to fetch servants to prepare him a good bath. When you go back at him, Aemond gives you that intense look which gives you shivers.
And wets you in between your legs too.
But this isnāt the moment nor the time.
āCome. Itās ready.ā
You lean against the wall of the privy quarters as Aemond starts to undress. Even though he is damaged for what heās done, he likes to feel the weight of your gaze on him. And he smirks when he stands nude before you.
āI donāt think youāve seen me like thisā, he muses.
You donāt look away when he says so. Aemond feels a heat growing inside him.
āNo, I donāt. Not physically anywayā, you point out.
āDonāt look awayā, he asks.
You dare to scan his body with your discreet gaze, eyeing his well build muscles, attentive to his scars and⦠his manhood, which is now erected. And quickly you look away, blushing, as he chuckles.
āYouāve never seen one up before, my lady?ā, he asks, sliding into the tub.
You gently knee behind him and get to rub his back with a sponge.
āDo not take me to your whore, Aemondā, you snap at him.
The prince smiles at it. He lets you clean him before he dives into the water. When coming back to the surface, the prince is disappointed for not seeing you there.
A moment later, though, when heās dressed in clean clothes, says Aemond with a subtle accusation tone:
āYou left me there for one momentā¦ā
āYou surely can handle yourself as you finished you bath. I am only your friend, wasnāt that what you called me?ā
Aemond sighs.
āY/Nickname, I shouldnāt have said that.ā
He comes at you and rests his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. When you side look at him, you spot that old fragility rarely seen.
Itās what melts you down.
āVery well. Come here. Let me tend youā, and now back to your bed, you and him lace your fingers together, his head in between your breasts. āWhat did you do, Aemond?ā
You stroke his hair with your loose hand, aware that heād done something bad. But where others see him ruthless, you see a broken boy trying to find his worth in this misadjusted world.
āIā¦ā, his embargoed voice has your attention.
āYes?ā, you lift his chin, now cupping his face; removing his eyepatch, you gently force him to look at you.
And here comes a tear.
āI killed him. But I didnāt mean to.ā
āWho?ā
But you know the answer.
āā¦Lucerys.ā
Old wounds that never close⦠bleed endlessly. You sigh heavily, but rest your forehead against his.
āYou shouldnāt have done that, my dearā, you speak softly.
āI understand.ā
āBut I wonāt abandon you, you know that, do you?ā, you hope to transmit him that, regardless of this sinful secret he shared with you, together you two are stronger.
āYou are the only one who knows my weaknessā, he buries his head against your neck, needy of you, weak and feeble. Fragile. āDo not dare to leave me.ā
āYou have always been sacred to me to be profaned now, Aemondā, you whisper.
He leans his body close to yours, transfixed by your irradiating beauty⦠and your unending loyalty.
The prince touches your face and you tilt your head, letting his slander fingers brush over your face and then going down to your neck. You partly wish that he goes below⦠a perception he sees evident in your eyes.
Aemond knows heās as vulnerable as you. And yet his hand moves to your collarbone, unlacing your nightgown.
āSo beautiful. You look as if I can be redeemed.ā
āYou canā, you lean closer, not minding how purposely your breasts slip out of the line. Your eyes remain locked with his all the whilst you take his face with your hands. āYou can be redeemed.ā
Aemond waits no further: his dragon fire awakes and he is about to burn you. You welcome his hungry lips thus, sighing in content as he crawls over your body, ripping impatiently your gown, promptly reclaiming you the same way he did Vhagar.
You subdue easily to him, letting him have his way to you. That his lips make his kiss ache every part of you gets a moan out of you, which in turn makes Aemond smirk.
You are mine and mine alone. I possess you, I take you as who you are, my lady Y/N.
Such are his thoughts, which you need naught to have the ability to read them; for they are readable in his tight grip of you, in how his tongue dominates yours along with his body.
Trapped under his dominance, you are found breathless and a puddle of mess when he parts the kiss to let slid his tongue over your jawline and neck, his fingers now pulling your hair gently, tangled in your curls.
Then he stops what heās doing to contemplate your state under candlelight. And here he smirks.
āDivine you are, my lady. How can a man like me be worthy of a woman like you?ā
You sensually lift your legs to pull him by his hips as you adjust your body so his can mould better in it. You like the lust in his eyes, one of the kind that doesnāt conceal his vices nor his virtues⦠one that shows his genuine feelings to you.
āYou deserve all the love in the world, my dear Aemond. Let me heal youā, you stroke his cheeks, smiling gently.
āA flower soon to be deflowered by a rogueā, he sneers under his breath, but thereās no despise in his eyes, only the same old scars.
āI am your womanā, you tell him, and heās surprised to find in you the same possessiveness there is in him. āI am not any flower, though.ā
Aemond smirks. Whatever insecurities laid behind his good eye, now they are no more.
āYou shall be more than that, darlingā, he brushes his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip not long after. āMy consort, mother of my heirs.ā
As if to assure you he means every word, he not only kisses your neck and gets a few moans out of you, but leaves some bruises there. Youāve been marked.
Aemond, however, cannot take out of his thought the idea of corrupting you. Though it flings him with some guilt, the way your legs are wrapped around him, your bodies so perfectly moulded that leaves no doubt that it is hardly sinful whatās to be done.
You may spot some of it, so to assure him thereās no question of the legitimacy of the deed, you put yourself under him properly so he looks down at you⦠and yet your hand takes hold of his erect manhood.
āY/N!ā, he gasps in surprise.
You give him a malicious smirk at the same time there is nothing to encounter in your gaze that is not innocence itself. Inexperience you may be, but you have ears that long heard of maids doing so with their partners.
But to feel his cock responding well to your moves is a positive indicator that you are doing it well.
āMy lady!ā, he wants to stop you, but fuck it itās so damn good. Aemond rolls his eye, almost falling over you. āYou should notā¦ā
āI want youā, you whisper in the back of his ear as you caress his face and hair with your free hand. āCarnally, emotionally, all that is between. I want my prince Aemond Targaryen the way he really is.ā
Itās enough to wipe out any reasonable thought he may have in regarding preserving you of such naughtiness. Aemond lets out the repressed lust for you, his sentiments towards his ladyāof the kind only his whore knew aboutā, and bloody seven hells⦠you know how to make him feel good!
All the whilst you enjoy feeling his precum getting your hand soaked, and twirling your thumb around the tip like he instructs you toāthe very fact heās the one teaching you also arouses him quite.
āFuckā, and he growls against your skin, burying himself into your breasts, biting your nipples and sucking each ardently with the devotion of a lover.
So you too welcome a different sensation of bliss, a pleasure never before felt, hitting on your in waves of heat that get your body out of control. It does āworsenā, though, the moment he does to you what you do to him.
Aemond captures the surprise that flashes behind your eyes when he finds you soaked to the core. And then⦠not deeming to waste his seed, he takes your hands and pins over your head.
As his thighs are over yours, you see this handsome man towering over you. His well build muscles, his handsome manhoodā¦
āDo you like the view, Princess?ā Aemond asks gently, though the way he looks at you thereās nothing innocent or gentle.
And he sees how your body reacts. Which only arouses him further.
āYesā, you are almost breathless. āPlease, do not make me beg.ā
Aemond chuckles low, hands wrapping around your neck.
āOh, but arenāt you begging already, my love?ā
And then he releases the pressure by inserting another finger in your womanhood.
āMm. You like that, do you not?ā, Aemond groans as you deliberately give yourself to him, a complete mess. He likes the view, to know he ruined you too.
And then he bends over⦠only to slowly insert his manhood into you.
āOh Gods!ā
Aemond side smirks at you.
āItās going to be a long night, Princess Y/N.ā
And to seal his promise, he pursuits your lips in a passionate kiss.
***
⢠(IV) The Great Escape.
As you stand quietly in the royal chambers, you detect grey clouds rumbling in the sky. You furrow your eyebrows at the sight, perceiving it as a bad omen.
Itās when Helaena comes at you, so suddenly and silently that you are almost startled by her presence.
āI see the boyā, she whispers at you, the only one who understands her. āHe will conquer all.ā
āDo you mean any of your brothers?ā, you ask in the same tone.
Helaena smiles quietly, though in her eyes you detect a mix of apprehension and concern. You know she hesitates, so you hope to transmit calmness.
āLaena, do not fear. I shall keep your secret with meā, and you point to your heart.
She looks at your hands before giving a look at the horizon. You give her time. Then she turns her head and says:
āHe shall not be king until other diesā, another pause. āYou should not be here when Aegon becomes king.ā
You are more than aware that Aegon is not really fond of you.
āIs war coming, dear Laena?ā, you ask.
āNoā, and here she smiles. āNot for you nor Aemond.ā
You have the decency to blush. Youād think your secret encounters with Aemond remained a secret, but didnāt you underestimate your closest friend?
āIā¦ā
āDo not apologize. Youāve brought him the light out of him.ā
And in her own way of saying thanks, Helaena rests her head against your shoulder. So suddenly the announce of storm is dissipated⦠and your fears, likewise.
*
But before this light prevails, it is yet the time to cross the dark. Therefore, you are not entirely surprised to find Aemond vulnerable again. Itās late night and he comes for you in seek of solace. The one kind heās been refused by his family.
Aemond slides through the half open door, already suspicious in not finding your privy chambers completely close. Hearing voices, a fang of jealousy threatens to bring out his worse when he comes to find out you and Helaena have been spending time together.
It is a relief, somewhat one that makes him smirk, to seeing you getting along with his family. Not that he cares about it, butā¦
He waits until Helaena is gone to surprise you. You are wearing a pink gown with details in pink and are just untying your braid, completely unaware of his silent presence.
Aemond is reclining against the wall, watching you remove the courtly garments that you wear daily, noticing in your distracted face different expressions he is used to see in you.
āYou look exhaustedā, his voice comes out as a single whisper right as you are caught off guard and almost crying out as a result. āWhatās wrong?ā
āAemond!ā, you yell. āAre you out of your mind? Always like a rat, arenāt you?ā
He chuckles at your reaction, moving to where you stand so he can have you all to himself. You melt instantly in his arms, but then quickly recompose when noticing that vulnerability only you spot on.
āWait. What happened?ā
āYou didnāt answer my questionā.
You know itās pointless to argue with him so you shrug your shoulders and say:
āJust tired, is all.ā
You donāt think wise to tell that lately youāve been having strange morning sickness, so you motion to fetch yourselves some wine before getting at him.
āNow your turn.ā
Aemond doesnāt buy your lie, though. But taking the wine offered, he opts to keep that in his mind for a moment later.
āIāve met the Strong boys.ā
āOh.ā
And here comes the thunderā¦
āWhat do you mean by āohā? Iāve been teased out and about, Y/Nā, says a very moody Aemond. āJacaerys and Joffrey think they can have their way out?ā
And here he comes to burst in tears. That broken boy hasnāt been healed nor taken care of. You put your glass aside and move to embrace him. Like a needy child, he comes for support which you give him without second thoughts.
āWhat happened then?ā
āA fight was only prevented because of my mother. She welcomed Rhaenyra and her bastards here.ā
You let him burst out his anger, silent and pained, as you hold him. In moments like this is when he undress the rogue mask he often wore to public; -and itās here his fragility is seen, which leads to a more intimate moment.
āYou donāt feel at peace here.ā
āNoā, Aemond admits. āNot here not anywhere. But I aim to reclaim Harrenhal.ā
A stranger shiver crosses your spine and even the prince feels it. He looks up at you, quizzically so.
āWhat was that?ā
āOh, the shiver? You felt it too?ā, you try to make a joke about it. āSo tight you felt it as if it were you, uh?ā
But Aemond is serious.
āI am not joking, Y/N.ā
āI had a bad feeling about this. You know the stories of Harrenhal.ā
Now the silver haired man chuckles.
āYou canāt be serious.ā
āDragons could be a myth, and were treated as such before the Conquest by the Westerosi. And yet here they areā, you tell him firmly. āStories contain a degree of truth. I did my homework.ā
āI can tell.ā And softening, he rises to cup your face and kiss your nose and lips. āI did not wish to distress you. But I cannot stay here any longer,Y/N.ā
āWellā¦ā, and you smile as you rest your forehead against his. āLet us runaway, Aemond. Together.ā
āTo where?ā, Aemond isnāt sure about the idea, but this possibility does bring some relief to him.
āThe Free Citiesā, you decide. āYou arenāt the first Targaryen who flees Kingās Landing to locate somewhere there. Essos is one of those who traditionally welcomes these Valyrian kind.ā
Aemond chuckles, pleasantly surprised by your wit.
āWe need little convincing, donāt we?ā
āIt is what you need most, my beloved. Some peace of mind and spirit will do you well.ā
So the plan is architected. And the promised consolation shall come.
*
Yet, night arises and with it, demons that come to dispute over royal flesh. Aemond is tormented by his nightmares. As he watches you sleep peacefully, he envies your serenity.
Part of him riots against the idea of being with you. Running away sounds coward-ish and the ilidic paradise is an idea fit for poets and story tellers.
Reclining against the wind, naked, he is vulnerable and to feel it only makes him feel irc about it.
Itās when you notice the bed getting colder. As you turn around, you see you are alone once again. You almost panic at the idea of him leaving you, but this is wiped out of your mind when seeing the state he is.
āAemondā, you donāt mind the clothes. āCome to bedā, you rest your chin over his shoulder. Suddenly you notice how tall he is.
He tries to avoid your gaze, but it is difficult to ignore you when you recline your body, so warmt, against his. In a stark contrast of fire and cold, he is like an ice berg to you.
āPleaseā, you ask him.
Aemond turns at you at last and acquiesces with your request. Silently he follows you, but he doesnāt sleep straight away.
āYou are worthy of loveā, you tell him, cuddling him. āYou cannot ignore the wounds that hurt you.ā
āI fear I am incapable of healingā, Aemond whispers, a tear rolling down his cheek. āHow can you conceive the idea of us together, Y/N?ā
āYou can be saved.ā
He snorts, eyes closing as he slowly drifts to sleep under your tenderness.
āMaybe I do not want to be saved.ā
āTo be saved or to be redeemed. Is there any difference? Sleep my life. The night may be long and full of terrors, but light always comes to win over it.ā
Youād think Aemond had fallen asleep as you take the blankets and cover yourselves, but as you too lie down, your hear him say:
āI love you, Y/N.ā
You smile warmly because this is the first time he admits it out loud. Wiping away your happy tears, you lean to kiss his forehead.
āI love you too, Aemond Targaryen.ā
*
Indeed, funny as it is, you are now officially part of the House Targaryen. Daeron and Helaena had been the only witnesses of the ceremony that made you officially Lord Aemondās wife.
āWelcome to our familyā, greets Daeron. āJust hope one does not notice the mess we are.ā
āOh, nothing too different of my own family, my lord.ā
āLord?ā, Daeron scoffs. āWe are family now, sister. There is little need to use formalities.ā
Aemond smiles quietly when spotting a blush turning your cheeks into crimson. And speaking of informalities, Helaena welcomes you in her own way. To a general surprise, she in fact hugs you close before saying:
āNever forget. A king will come soon. To conquer all. The line must carry on.ā
And then she takes Daeron away, leaving you baffled.
āWhat did she say?ā, asks Aemond, curious.
āIām afraid this time I didnāt understand what she meant, husband.ā
āWellā, he shrugs his shoulders. āNot many of us do. Ready, my lady?ā
You smile warmly and the sight makes Aemond content. Sun is rising in the horizon when he helps you mount old Vhagar.
And when she is ready to fly, you cling tight in your husband like a monkey.
āOh my Gods!ā
He laughs away. Never before he laughed so unpreocuppied, so carelessly, so free.
You know it. You feel it too. For when you look at him, you could tell how successfully you fixed him. Didnāt you?
***
⢠(V) Essos.
You may think you are brave for riding Vhagar, but braver so for mounting your husband. Now that you have enough trust to do so, you come to find out that is a lot better than in your wildest dreams.
āOh Gods!ā, and like any other day you are louder,a sound the servants are already used by now. āAemond!ā
Itās been three months since you and Aemond settled in Essos, and ever since the city not only welcomed you two properly like the royalty both of you are, but is also becoming the stage to Aemondās ambitionsāto which you turned a blind side to.
āSo good, my wife!ā, Aemond groans, pleased like always to see your boobs bouncing and how synced his body and yours are in one single move.
But domineering he is, so in a matter of seconds you are under his power again, a āvictimā of his intense thrusts. And as he seeds you, itās only then he comes to notice the changes of your body. Your breasts are bigger, you are curvier and your appetites⦠are different too.
As he collapses against your side, Aemond holds you close to him, though. Stroking your hair and helping to straighten it after messing you good, he smiles.
āI cannot believe myself when I recall the enormous quantity of years that took for us to get married.ā
āYou are slower than Iād assumed to be, husbandā, you tease him, earning a few tickles.
āLife here isnāt as bad as it seems, thoughā, Aemond contemplates after kissing your forehead. āI think we can rebuild our life here in the manner of Westeros.ā
You know there are certain ambitions that do not die, no matter the efforts in healing scars. Itās a side of his character that youāve always accepted. Then you are reminded of Helaenaās prophecy and somehow you made your peace with it.
āIndeed, Iā¦ā
Oh no. Not that nauseous morning again! In a matter of seconds you are running to your privy quarters and throw all that youāve ingested earlier the day⦠out.
When Aemond rushes after you, though, he doesnāt take too long to realize that an heir is coming. At last.
āMy dearest wifeā, he kneels after you. āLet me help you. The way you help me.ā
For the first time in years he sees your vulnerability, your fragility. You try to conceal it, but he doesnāt allow you to shy away.
āY/N⦠Do not be stubbornā, he helps you clean. āThere is nothing wrong with it. Do you not realize what does this mean?ā
When you give him a quizzical look, the prince chuckles.
āI cannot believe that I am the one to tell you⦠but you are carrying our child, my love.ā
News that would come to change your livesā¦. But others too.
***
⢠Epilogue.
Three years later.
You are giving birth againāthe price you pay for delighting yourself by engaging in marital affairs with your handsome princeāwhen news come from Kingās Landing.
Aemond is holding baby Rhaella in his arms all the whilst watching his son, Aegon, practice sword ship. Heās very prideful over his eldest son taking so much after him where brain matters are concernedāand abilities tooā, but the sweet temper is something the boy takes after you.
āSee, Rhae? Your brother is going to protect you just fineā, Aemond smiles before kissing his daughterās head.
She giggles, a sight he adores to behold, but every smile dies when a messenger dressed in green comes in.
āMy lord Princeā, this young lad greets Aemond, sounding somewhat nervous.
āWho is this? Sent by mother, I presume.ā
The lad delivers him an old parchment. When opening it carefully, the prince frowns.
āWhat does this mean?ā
āThere is war in Westeros, Ser. And King Aegon has summoned you.ā
⢠House Targaryen presents King Aemond & Queen Helaenaās offspring.
1. Aegon, Prince of Dragonstoneāfuture King Aegon III.
2. Visenya, Princess of Dragonstoneāthe next Queen consort.
3. Aemon Targaryen, who chose to take the black, is the Lord Commander of the Nightās Watch.
4. Alysanne Targaryen, Princess consort of Dorne.
Tom, you're so real...

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Ewan Mitchell & Tom Glynn-Carney React To House of the Dragon Scenes | House of the Dragon | Max
Imagine Arctic Monkeysās songs (II): Fluorescent Adolescent.
Imagine you are Aegonās ex who goes to his wedding⦠next to his brother, Aemond. What will result of this charming meeting (not to stay a different story)?
Warnings: (loosely?) based on this movie with Keanu Reeves and Wynona Rider.
Warnings 2: light reading, modern world, rom-com vibes.
***
⢠You used to get it in your fishnets. Now you only get it in your night dress. Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness. Landed in a very common crisisā¦
As you wait to fly to Dragonstone from Kingās Landing airport, you still wonder why you are doing this to yourself. To accept Aegonās invitation to his marriage to Miss Rhaella Velaryon, his cousin, feels like a complete exhibition of some lack of self esteem.
You think youāve gotten over him, that you overcame the wounds of this relationship, but this doesnāt sound accurate, no. What you did in practice was stopping getting yourself drunk and going to parties where you felt like a sidekick character just to please him. Part of you admits that his breaking up with you did some good to you. You quit alcohol and started to lead a healthier lifestyle.
But now here you are. Waiting for the moment where youāll hear a voice in the airport to call the passengers of the flight 321 (how original, you think) to get to their seats. And soon you will fly to see your ex-boyfriend marrying someone else.
As you wonder whether Aegon was really a good boyfriend, you donāt spot a taller, serious, cranky-faced man coming to your side. He is wearing a dark leather jacket and simple clothes, very appropriate for a two hours flight. The man is chewing a gun and is also in a nonchalant posture that annoys you for no reason.
āWould you please stop doing that?ā
The silver haired man looks at you, somewhat puzzled by what you tell him.
āExcuse me, what?ā
āYou know. That.ā
āWhatās āthatā?ā
āThe arrogant attitude as if you are standing there, contemplating many ways to bother people with your handsomeness.ā
He could not help but laugh at your disastrous attempt of flirting. As you realize what you said, you get annoyed at yourself for your lack of social skills.
āIf that is your way to compliment me, I appreciate itā, he chuckles. āBut I donāt think this is the right way to get to someone.ā
āOh please.ā
It comes out wrong, so wrong but you havenāt done this business for ages. Now that it occurs you as you contemplate the amusement behind this stranger manās smirk, you notice he possesses lilac eyes.
A trait that only a certain family has.
Oh shit.
āYou are a Targaryenā, you remark.
He looks rather bored at your observation.
āIndeed it looks so.ā
āThis means⦠you are going to the same flight as I? To Dragonstone?ā
It then occurs you both an awkward perception.
āYou are his brother, Aemond.ā
āYou cannot beā¦ā, Aemond looks shocked. āWhoā¦?ā
āY/Nā, you sigh awkwardly. āHis ex girlfriend.ā
āFuckā, is all he can say.
Thankfully the call for the flight interrupts this situation, but it appears that you are not meant to stay away of each for so long.
***
Aemond wishes he is somewhere else, but here he is, next to his brotherās ex girlfriend. Youāve got to be kidding meā¦
He watches as you struggle to open the bottle of water, wondering whether he should interfere since you havenāt asked for help.
Then, opting to ignore this awkwardness between you and him, he says:
āNeed some assistance there?ā
You shoot him a disdainful look, but what for? A few seconds later, you say:
āā¦Maybe.ā
He chuckles, taking it and easily opening it before giving it to you. After a while, Aemond, too involved to let go of his curiosity, asks you:
āWhy are you going to his marriage?ā
Accepting that these two hours may be longer than planned, you sink in your seat, but take the thread offered.
āI need to put a closure in this.ā
āHeās going to marry someone else who isnāt you. Shouldnāt this be a closure enough?ā
You blush at his complete reasonable remark, unable to convince yourself otherwise.
āHe invited me out of politeness and by the same reason I accepted it.ā
āWhen someone does so out of politeness, my dear, itās because itās expected that you donāt take it.ā
You tilt your head and Aemond seems to notice how nice is your y/c hair. He can certainly see how Aegon fell for you, though heās not going to admit it.
āOh please. What would you know about matters of etiquette being that arrogant, Mr Know-It-All?ā
āLittle wonder why Aegon broke up with you. This is a title far more appropriate to you, smart ass.ā
And there you have it. For another hour and half you and him do not speak.
***
⢠Everything's in order in a black hole. Nothing seems as pretty as the past, though. That Bloody Mary's lacking a Tabasco. Remember when you used to be a rascal?
To you and Aemondās dismay, your hotel room is next to his. Which means heās going to be your room neighbor.
āYour heavy sigh is enough to let your distaste known, thank you very muchā, you grumble, trying to avoid that unwelcoming sentiment of being unwanted.
āI did not say a word, barely so I sighedā, Aemond protests. āGoodness me, woman, not everything is about you.ā
That being said, he walks impatiently through the door and you do likewise. But destiny is not over with you yet.
*
Aemond wishes youād dress badly, to the point where your supposed beauty is omitted and he could have a reason to mock you. But his eyes linger at the dark, short dress you wear, noticing your well shaped curves⦠though stopping himself to lust after you even if your y/c hair is loose in cascade and your make up highlights the color of your eyes.
āDo I look weird?ā, you ask, forgetting to disguise your broken pride.
āNo, not at allā, Aemond answers you, surprised by what he is inquired. āWhyād you think so?ā
āBecause you are staring.ā
Tonight, your former brother-in-law is looking rather attractive to you. He had got ridden of his long hair, having it cut short; he is wearing a nice polo white shirt and jeans that make him look fancy.
And you could not help yourself a surprising naughty thought at what would be like to ride him.
A thought you promptly dismiss, of course.
āAm I?ā, he clears his throat. āSorry about that, didnāt mean to. You are actuallyā¦ā
Before he can say ābeautifulā, to your disappointment heās distracted by the presence of Aemondās nephews. Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon, brothers of the bride.
āNice to see you, Aemondā, so greets Jacaerys, and you swear you detect some irony behind his gallant words.
āThe same, nephew. Looking strong I seeā, Aemond smirks, wiping out the smug of the otherās face.
āI thinkā, you decide to intrude before this could end unwell for both parties, āthat you should follow me in pursuing wine, Aemond. Good evening boys.ā
As you lead the way out of trouble, Aemond raises his eyebrows at you.
āReally now, Y/N?ā
āYup. Aegon may be a rascal, but you have no reason to be either.ā
Easily convinced by you, he pours some wine in his glass before taking a distant seat at the restaurant. Aegon is busy entertaining guests, and itās when you spot Alicent arm-in-arm with a dark haired woman.
āThat is her girlfriendā, you hear Aemond say when seeing where your curious eyes are wandering to. āMy motherās a lesbian. She had a huge crush on her stepdaughter and former childhood friend, Rhaenyra, my sister. But they never made it because Rhaenyra likes men.ā
āOhā, you blink. āI didnāt know that.ā
āAegon didnāt tell you the gossips of the family?ā, Aemond muses sarcastically, placing a hand on his heart, feigning to be offended.
āIām afraid he was too busy partyingā, you say rather uncomfortable, taking the wine to your lips as you savor the sour taste of it. āThis wine isnāt Dornish.ā
āItās notā, he agrees.
⢠Oh the boy's a slag. The best you ever had is just a memory and those dreams weren't as daft as they seem, my love when you dream them up.ā¦..
Again silence hangs in between the two of you before Aemond gives you a look, studying you for a moment.
āHe wasnāt a good boyfriend to you, was he?ā, so he inquires after a while.
āNo, he wasnāt. But I give him credit for trying.ā
Aemond chuckles quietly.
āKudos for doing the least.ā
You smile at him. Perhaps Aemond isnāt as dull nor arrogant as you formerly judged.
āIt appears I must engage in socially acceptable behaviorā, says Aemond then. āTo greet my brother and new sister-in-law and repeat expected speeches.ā
āExpected only because you correspond to these expectationsā, you nudge his sides.
āAnd do I have another choice on the matter?ā, he scoffs.
āNo one forced you to come, so donāt get at me for it.ā
Somehow it surprises you both that these teasings do not end up in a clash of words. Aemond actually chuckles before conceding reason to you.
āThat is very true. But I am a dutiful man, Y/N.ā
Saying so, he moves away to greet his brother at last. You watch him go, already missing his company and the warmth of his presence.
The funny part about all of this is that, when looking at Aegon, you donāt actually miss him. And when looking at his bride, you feel rather oddly comfortable in getting at them to congratulate for the merry occasion.
Past is past, after all, and the aching of this ugly truth doesnāt seem to ache any longer.
***
⢠Flicking through a little book of sex tips, remember when the boys were all electric? Now when she's told she's gonna get it, I'm guessing that she'd rather just forget it. Clinging 'til I'm getting sentimental, said she wasn't going but she went still likes her gentlemen to not be gentleā¦
Aemond watches as you meet your former boyfriend with his now bride-to-be. Judging by your face and your body language, all goes well. However, there is still that expected discomfort as you greet them.
So attentive is he that he doesnāt see Helaena coming. She leans by his side, amused by what is going on right under her nose.
āShe said she wasnāt going, but she went still.ā
Aemond turns his eyes to his favourite sibling.
āHowād you know that?ā
āWe remained friends, Aem. Y/N is a really good person, Egg didnāt deserve her.ā
āWhen does he deserve any relationship heās in?ā, Aemond snorts, partly playful, partly meaningful.
Helaena smirks.
āDonāt be mean, Aem. They look genuinely happy now, which is good. I never thought Iād see him settling down one day.ā
Her brother doesnāt answer, eyes still glued in the odd trio. Miss Rhaella is very comfortable in her shoes. But of course she is, she has captured his heart. At what cost, though?
āHow come they broke up?ā
Helaena scoffs at him.
āOh please. Donāt tell me you donāt know the reason why they are not together for some years.ā And then she adds, after poking his sides. āDo I detect an interest in you, Aemond Targaryen?ā
āLaena, darling. Often the wise in our family, donāt play the dumb now.ā Aemond rolls his eyes. āI could never nurture any interest of the kind in my brotherās ex. Y/N is particularly irritating.ā
And that is the last part you hear.
***
He doesnāt know why, but this prince who takes pride in never falling in love with anyone, nor ever chasing after a woman, is going after you.
You too cannot conceive the reason his words hurt you, but it takes little to comprehend that youāve been vulnerable with this odd circumstance you spontaneously dragged yourself into.
āY/Nā, he holds you by your elbow, forcing you to look at him. āDidnāt mean to say what I said.ā
You shrug your shoulders off.
āIn the end you have a point, though. What kind of ex goes willingly to a wedding where she was only invited out of politeness? Besides, have you seen the embarrassed look in your motherās face? She wasnāt expecting me thereā, you scoff.
Aemond smiles at you, and you donāt like how it makes you feelāas if thereās hope in the horizon.
āI donāt think this is the case. She was probably expecting a scene. Not from you, of course, but most likely that Rhaella would be unnecessarily loud. Or even Aegon. Who knows? But definitely not you.ā
That being said, walls are knocked down. It all settles for now.
āWell, you know what? I think I need some wine.ā
āI take itā, so says Aemond. āItās been a while.ā
āIndeed it hasā.
And you smile at each other.
***
The next day both of you are found in the same bed, except nothing really happened in the night before. You realize how nice it was to just cuddle him, that his scent was much fitter to yours⦠than Aegonās. Such thought embarrasses you when you get back at your senses.
You panic internally and try to disassociate of his arms, albeit unwillingly. Itās when he opens his eyes.
Aemond too is shocked when promptly observing how one got tangled with the other⦠without necessarily having the need of taking each otherās clothes off. This perception sort of annoys him, though.
āWhere do you think youāre going?ā, he asks in a voice that gives you shivers. āItās fucking early.ā
āI best find my way back to my roomā, you say, hoping not to sound too awkward.
āMmā, but of course he cannot take it for himself. āLast night was good, wasnāt it?ā
āIt wasā, you give him a soft smile, but something about your eyes makes Aemond smile at himself. āI just donāt think prudent if we are caught. People can talk.ā
āLet them talkā, he gently pulls you back and you effortlessly fall into his arms again. āI think we could go for a horseback riding today before lunch.ā
You smile at yourself. Aemond spots it and he smiles too.
āWe could. Though Iām afraid I donāt do horseback riding.ā
āI could teach you.ā
āDo I detect malice in your speech, Aemond Targaryen?ā
For the first time in many moons, this bad boy is genuinely brought to laughters.
āIt really didnāt occur me at all, but if youāre up to itā¦ā
You punch his arm playfully. But for a while you two just stay like this, lying in bed, sharing laughters as if you have been the best of friends.
***
āI hate how I feel like an adolescent again. I thought Iāve done this already. Countless timesā, you remark.
Itās nine in the morning and you two are dressed like going to a picnic, not a fancy breakfast to celebrate the union of the families Targaryen & Velaryon. Maybe itās not of either interest to participate it. Besides, the landscape is far more inviting than dealing with posh relatives.
The hotel is surrounded by nature. Large trees are spotted above a green hill, surrounded by lakes and some wild animals that every now and then stop by. Not far from it, is this large, crimson white house rent by the Targaryens to celebrate the marriage of Aegon and Rhaella. The said event will happen only the next day since the couple are very fond of celebration.
Uninterested in these endless festivities, you and Aemond are heading to the top of the hill carrying with nothing other than wine and bread, perhaps some fruits too.
"And here we are", says Aemond, surprisingly in a good mood.
You two sit on the grass and its your former brother-in-law who opens the wine bottle. You two share it as it is, with no need to use glasses for the purpose of savouring the red, warm liquid.
"It is a shame we haven't been acquainted properly", you muse after a while. From where you two are, you could still spot Mrs Hightower and her lover receiving the guests alongside Mrs Velaryon, who, you seem to notice, is accompanied by a dark, curled haired man who doesn't strike you as Mr Velaryon.
"Eh, I was a little busy when you were with my brother", and when following your curious gaze, Aemond smirks and adds: "That is Mr. Strong, by the way."
"Busy? With whom?", you tilt your head, eyes now locked with his purple ones. "I feel as if I'm missing something here."
Aemond cackles before lying on the grass. As he's on his elbows, you hate how your eyes scan his frame, taking notice of his body, his part-opened legs under an old pair of jeans and a random comfortable shirt that shows some of his well build muscles.
Fuck.
You lean to grasp a few grapes before suddenly finding interest in the cloudless skies.
"Well, that is Harwin Strong", says Aemond, ignoring the first part of the question you asked him. "He is my sister's lover."
"Oh."
"Oh, indeed. Where were you when our family messed up?"
"I have no idea, maybe we were busy breaking up", you shrug your shoulders.
Now you miss the long gaze Aemond casts at you. He notices your shapely legs, well reinforced by your blue velvet shorts. A mischievous thought occurs him at the thought of removing these shorts. Containing a sigh, but not holding back such sinful thoughts, he notices you have nice, firm breasts just by the stare he gives your blouse.
Desire seems unbearable. Useless to fight against, but he stops the urge. He must. For his sake.
"You deserve someone better."
And your gaze meets his.
"My brother was unworthy of you", and he, a careful, wayward man, is drawn to you.
You, likewise, are inclined to get closer to him. Is it too early to get drunk and do things you might regret? Where is conscience when you need it?
"And who is worthy of me? You?"
Aemond side smirks at you. You two are so close to bound in deeper waters.... when someone else comes in to ruin all, of course.
It's Alys Rivers, his ex-girlfriend.
***
ā¢Youāre falling about. You took a left off Last Laugh Lane. You were just sounding it out. No you're not coming back again.
You are quick to leave the scene. Tired to be someone elseās sidekick character, you know itās the time to part and be the protagonist of your own.
Itās been too much humiliation. First to put a closure with a man who is marrying someone else. Second⦠to be able to fall for his brother in a matter of, what, a day and HALF?
You realize no one is missing you anyway. So you are leaving before ceremony even begins.
As for Aemond, itās all going worse than planned. He wishes youād have more time to spend together. But, in honesty, he doesnāt blame you for parting like this.
He never mentioned that he and Alys were not entirely⦠what word could capitalize it? Untogether? Does this word even exist?
Regardless. Heās taken by a strange urge of going after you.
āā¦youāre not even listening to me!ā, the protestations of his now ex girlfriend are annoying him.
āFrankly, my dear, I donāt give a damnā, he responds rather coolly. āYouāve left me in balance for a while and now you think you can take me back? I donāt think so. Farewell, darling Alys.ā
Saying so, heās not wasting his time. These are crazy days, one might judge, where long relationships end unexpectedly and short ones may begin out of the blue.
Or perhaps not so out of the blueā¦
***
You are about to get in the cab when Aemond gets to you.
āHeyā, and once again he holds your wrist, thus making you looking at him. āDonāt go.ā
āI canāt stay hereā, you sigh dramatically. āYou have unfinished business with Alys. I mean, been there, done that. Not really in the mood to rerun this movie.ā
āNo, this is untrue. Fuck, you are the most interesting girl Iāve met and look at me playing the fool here. Always the indecisive and vindictive, I want something new.ā
Aemond doesnāt know where this urge comes from, but, unlike his brother, he is not willingly to let go of you so easily.
āAnd when this new goes awayā, you counter argue him. āWhat then?ā
āI am not leaving you. I am not Aegonā, he says rather anxiously. āAllow me to get to know you better, Y/N. We are going through this shit together.ā
You tilt your head, but as if to shush any remaining doubts, like the adolescent he never was, Aemond pulls you against him and finally kisses your red lips.
***
Itās the wedding day. You are elegantly dressed in a pink gown that reinforces your curves and shows some collarbone. Your y/c hair is tied in a braid Helaenaād done it and you are wearing a pair of emeralds over your skin.
But you lose your breath when you see him, elegantly dressed in a black suit with a green tie. His hair purposely messed, heās every inch the sobriquet he proudly wears.
Bad boy prince.
When his gaze meets yours, both of you know this day will be no good to either of you.
āReady to be my partner?ā
When your hands intertwine with his, so is your destiny for once and all locked with Aemondās. One smile, one kiss. And what is meant to be a funeral is turned into something more beautiful for this unexpected couple.
House Of The Dragon: Defend Your Council
Imagine Arctic Monkeysās songs: Do I Wanna Know?
Imagine you are seduced by Aemond Targaryen.
Warnings: fluffy, light readingāexplicit smut.
Warnings 2: alternative universe where the Greens won uncontestedly the war.
***
Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type that sticks around like something in your teeth?
Aemond finds difficulty to settle after years waging war. There is peace after a decade fighting his sister and her partisans. They are all nothing but names now, recorded in the maesters books.
To placate his restless energy, the prince has, in many ways, followed in his bitter enemyās footstepsāgetting himself lands in the Free Cities, he found himself a new life style as well as a new wife.
But because heās now the Hand of the King, in opposite to Daeronās career in Citadel, his life style was left behind. For now.
You, however, settled easily with this new routine. Harrenhal is your home and this is the household you must fill your wifely duties. Initially, you found a rival for your husbandās affectionāhis former mistress, a woman named Alys Rivers, did not let easily go the path to Aemondāa heartāwhich complicated your smooth transition from the life of a free damsel who loved the seas to a noblewoman, wife of a bad reputed prince.
Despite the initial scandal such a match evoked, you and Aemond overcame the early disapprovals until the dowager queen accepted you as her daughter-in-law in a relationship that grew fondly in due time.
As you spend the afternoon reading a love story between a knight and his damsel in distress, which in some shades reminds yours, you are found missing your husband dearly.
Aemond has been gone to Free Cities to knock a local rebellion and negotiate peace terms with the involved, applying the law, before going back. And he misses you too.
When he lands with Vhagar, he hurries to youāalthough the prince needs to clean himself first. Only then he comes at you.
Aemond finds you busy with your lecture at their bedchambers, so concentrated that you donāt spot him, leaning against the wall, watching you with a side smirk on his lips.
Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? I've dreamt about you nearly every night this weekā¦
His good eye is set on you like a hunter when itās about to get its prey. Your y/c hair is loose behind your back, your eyes are focused in the lines you read but he wonders what is the theme that makes you furrow your eyebrows. Your lips are partially open and Aemond easily sees his own clashing against yours in a long fervent kiss. But the man is patient.
The gown you dress is the first he gifted you, in the days of your courtship. Aemond is pleased to see you still keep it in your wardrobe. The gown shows some cleavage and shoulders, reinforcing your firm full breasts.
When staring at your heavy breathing, his own chest goes slowly up and down. His eyes devour your skin through the clothing, still keeping in his thought the moment your nipples go hard under his eager tongue.
When remembering how much you enjoy it, how you always sang louder the moment he took his time to suck each breast, a heat troubles his inner balance. His manhood gets lightly unbearable.
Itās time to move.
How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I've found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my setteeā¦
Aemond recollects the first time he saw you. Finding a way to survive in Essos, your brother had plans to send you to serve Rhāllor whilst you considered piracy. Youāve always loved the sea, and there youād content yourself when your path crossed his.
You knew nothing of his past, and yet you took him in. When love flourished, it took not much time.
Moved by this agony of spending too much of his time away from you, he wants you again. Using shadows on his favor, he is about to surprise you.
Aemond kneels behind you. Still focused in the reading, you do not notice heās behind your chair. The prince is lightly amused at how this novel has stolen you from him.
āMy lady, I am no poet, no bard, no man versed in the court of love, but Iād think by now you were missing me.ā
Quickly, you stand, turning at him with joy. Itās been five years since he espoused you and the same joy is there whenever he comes back to your arms.
āI missed you, my husband! How could it not be? Oh Aemond, itās been so long!ā
He experiments that peaceful bliss he never thought heād feel the moment his lips are welcomed by yours. It starts as a slow, passionate kiss, only then to be parted by you.
āI should have prepared our chambers to receive you betterā, you say, ready to fetch a servant when he pulls you right in front of him.
āWhy, I wanted to surprise my ladyā, he smirks, resting his chin over your shoulder as his hands begin to pace around your waist. āYou still have the gown I gifted you during our courtship.ā
āYes, I doā, you blush lightly, not expecting him to notice it.
āLooking gorgeous as alwaysā, he whispers hotly in your ear, giving you goosebumps.
āAemondā¦ā, you smirk, wondering whatās to come. āI have some news to tell you.ā
āThen tell meā, so he says as his tongue begins to draw lines from your earlobe to your jawline and neck, tightening the grip of your waist.
You try to focus, but when he gets to your neck, your leg automatically begin to rub in another and you giggle softly.
āY-Your brotherā¦ā, you almost forget how to breathe the moment he rests a hand over your belly, moving up to your breast.
āYes?ā, he bites your neck softly, missing to feel your firm breast over his hand, but not taking it long now⦠not yet. āYou were saying?ā
You try to release yourself off his grip, about to get on fire, but Aemond is very domineering today. The hand on your back is now over your neck, holding it possessively. The way you like it.
āHe is throwing a feast and a tournamentā¦ā, you get speechless the moment his lips are back at your neck and his right hand starts to lift the skirts of your gown.
āAndā¦ā, he smirks, encouraging you to speak as he defies you not to succumb easily into his teasings.
āAnd⦠Aemond!ā, you hiss impatiently when feeling his hand on your thigh.
Aemond takes a seat and makes you sit on his lap. There is a fire that is about to burn youā¦and you want to get burnt. But you know itāll be on his terms.
āTell me, or I will stop.ā
He smirks devilishly as you pout.
Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways (Sad to see you go) Sort of hoping that you'd stay. (Baby we both know) That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow dayā¦
āThe tournament is onā¦ā you barely speak as he begins to tease you through your undergarments. Using his thumb to draw circles over it, you whimper, partially impatient.
āOn?ā
He pauses, amused as you frown at him.
āEither you tell me or Iāll stop, my dear. The punishment for ignoring meā¦ā Aemond chuckles as you pout again.
āā¦on the next weekā, and he resumes the touching, working his hands within you. āHe wants toā¦. Oh, Aemond!⦠to celebrate his tenth year he is on the I-I-Iron Throne!ā
Aemond chuckles to himself as you try to keep your composure the moment two fingers are inserted in your womanhood. He feels how soaked you are, enjoying the sounds you make as he stimulates you.
āMm. What else?ā, he asks in your ear, using his free hand to unlace your gown, aroused by your reactions.
āHe wants youā¦ā, and here you let out a poorly muffled cry the moment he increases his pace. āā¦to take part of the feast and⦠and be his champion! Oh bloody seven hells!ā
As you throw your head back, the gown, now loose, begins to fall. Aemond stares at your denuded chest, biting his own bottom lip as your nipples are hardened under his lustful gaze.
āHis champion?ā, he helps you to straighten on his knee, despite the trouble to ignore the aching in his manhood.
āOn the tournament!ā, you moan indecently loud the moment he cups one boob with his free hand.
Aemond smirks at you. Oh how he loves these games he plays with you. He is a victor each time.
āHmm. I shall consider the invitationā, he leaves more bruises in your skin, before whispering unspeakable things to your ear that makes you hot enough to burst into his hand.
And when he licks each finger before you, you almost go insane.
āAemond!ā, you turn at him, finally free of his grasp. You remove the gown off your body, rubbing yourself to his manhood as you settle your hips properly over his, hands eagerly removing his own clothing.
āOh I havenāt finished with you yet, womanā, he groans as he lifts you and pulls you gently against the window. As you remain on your back to him, he kisses your neck and down to your back, before fingering you again.
āLords, Aemond!ā
And to your delightful surprise, his lips soon take place where his fingers have been. Now you settle the reins and gladly ride his face.
Crawling back to you⦠Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do. Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now I've thought it through, crawling back to youā¦
But once again in bed he has you under his command again. Crawling over your body, he prepares to set his pace.
āIāve been burning too long alone to let these flames go unescapedā, he whispers, touching himself right before you, until he leaves it to tease your entrance.
Aemond likes seeing you subduing to him. Even more when fire is indeed burning in such a level that makes you bed. And nothing arouses him more than seeing a prideful lady be turned into a beggar in⦠bed.
This is how he spreads your legs gently and, leaning his body to be closer to yours, the prince slowly thrusts in you.
āHave I been punished enough?ā, you moan sensually, legs wrapped around his waist.
āPerhapsā, he smiles at you.
Only when your gazes meet, he softens.
āIāve missed youā, and his lust is replaced by the genuine affection that has mirrored in your eyes. āA lot.ā
āAs have Iā, you admit in short breath. āVery much, my rogue prince.ā
Aemond smiles down at you, kissing your lips as your body and his finally move as one.
Simmer down and pucker up. I'm sorry to interrupt. It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you. I don't know if you feel the same as I do but we could be together⦠If you wanted to.
Later, you feel his wide eyed gaze at you. With no patch to cover his bad eye, he is the way you like him to: himself, nude and crude.
āI am pleased to find your heart shut for me aloneā, you muse after a moment spent in warming silence.
āHow so?ā
He turns at you, on his elbow. Aemond strokes your face gently, doing the same then to your hair.
āAre you still daunted by these insecurities?ā
āAt times I am. I fear to lose your affectionā, you admit. āBut this only happens when Iām sensitive.ā
āYou do not need to excuse yourself for me when Iām open like this before you, wifeā, he presses a kiss over your forehead. āI admit I have my own demons to haunt. There are nights I wish I had not⦠survived.ā
āHow so, my love,ā, you turn at him and he sees fear in your eyes.
āI wish I had not been the cause why such a war disrupted. There is no good in dwelling in the past, but if I must be open with my lady, then my remorse must be shared with you. This is what pains me in times where restlessness knocks me out. Not an old mistress.ā
āIām sorry for thisā, you feel ashamed for the confession, but Aemond looks in peace with it.
āDonāt be. We are husband and wife, love. We are in this together. I love you and itās your love that helps me with going through difficult times.ā
That being said, he kisses your lips. Every doubt dies permanently at his passionate kiss.

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āHouse of the Dragonā season 2ās official trailer has been released. This one concerns #TeamGreen and it features our beloved Aemond.
āEvery job IĀ do, Iām always trying to hone my craft and develop new skills to add to my arsenal. Every job IĀ do is like an apprenticeship because IĀ never went to drama school. Iām learning on my feet.ā
Happy birthday, Ewan!