#ari8fr

𓆩♡𓆪 ABOUT

⌇ summary. Targaryens are bloodthirsty, possessive and self-centered creatures. Since the line of brown haired dragons has been cursed to oblivion their spouses are forever doomed. Your sister is arranged to marry a Targaryen prince and you have to accompany her to the wedding. Your plans of remaining unwed are forgotten as soon as you lay eyes on Valarr. Or a Valarr x Reader where Valarr is desperately in love with you.

⌇ tags. Valarr targaryen/reader, Slight Daeron Targaryen (Son of Maekar I)/Original Female Character, Fluff and eventual Smut, There Was Only One Bed, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Pride and Prejudice, Slow Burn, angst, Arranged marriage, Mutual yearning, denial of feelings, jealousy, miscommunication, not proofread

⌇ status. ongoing

⌇ a/n. English isn’t my first language I apologize in advance for any errors. I have watched all of the ASOIAF series and recently fell in love with a certain boy with a hair streak. I’m listening to He’s my man on repeat so I hope that helps my writing lol. Have fun!

introduction: Me and my man

I. He keeps having feverish dreams

II. That he can never ever leave

III. He wakes, head aches, funny taste to his tea

IV. I want him to stay here forever

V. He’s happiest with me

VI. ‘Cause he

VII. He’s my man

VIII. And I love him like nobody else can

IX. He’s my man

X. He’s gone quite mad

XI. No, nobody has to understand

XII. Me and my man

"Sister don't forget that we can always exchange ravens. If my future lord is generous, us meeting once a year should also be of no issue." Rhea, your sister, turned to you and soothed in her fair voice.

"I know. This will be a most joyous occasion of your life. Do not let my demeanor occupy your mind or make you worry about me."

Truly strange how your younger sister was getting married before you. Nothing you held against her yet it was something you'd thought impossible with the way your father held onto ancient customs.

Perhaps you'd been unfitting of a suitor. Perhaps your father wanted his heir to stay here in the east.

You had never explicitly thought about marriage. For you it was just fulfilling a duty to your family and name. If you were lucky you'd have a rich husband who would be away most of the time. Spending your days just chatting with the attendants, writing, and reading seemed wonderful.

It would be a luxury to marry a loyal and honorable man who loved you.

Love. A strange thing.

Most young maidens you know including your sister dreamed of it. That's why you knew this marriage was incredibly devastating for her.

Her indifference to it now was only serving your father's cause.

Your indifference to it was like a stone dam.

Slowly when you went to the market accompanied by your mother and sister and saw happy common folk together,

when you started reading fairytales with happy endings and

when you were just a child wanting your parents to look at each other,

water seeped through.

Your attention was again directed towards your sister as her strained breathes crossed the room.

"Rhea, you don't have to wear such a tight corset for our long trip." Your voice was laced with worry. Placing your hands over her own, she seemed to relax.

A chuckle left her. "You know, you should also keep up with the modern world. Wear something nice would you? I hear my betrothed has quite the eligible siblings..." She was at it yet again.

You cut her off gently as you started walking towards the closet.

"Or even cousins!" She pleaded after a silent moment of you skimming the dozens of gowns you owned.

Too much, too little, far too bright...

the fabric of a sapphire dress caught your attention. It was a simple comfortable fit yet elegant enough for your sister's hopefully modest wedding. Your mother had bought it with your engagement in mind several years ago.

The sweet cinnamon aroma of the daily morning tea filled the room as it was brought in by a servant. You opened the window before sitting down. As you did so the darkness of shortly before dawn infiltrated the room. Again underlining the desperation your family felt towards this marriage. You chuckled dryly.

Wrapping your arms around the cup you savored the moment. One of the last of its kind.

Your dear sister still here with you and not living with some old drunkard in the reach who claimed to be of royal blood. It was truly heartbreaking seeing her go.

The royal family wasn't seen often and with your family not being of too high a status only your father had ever been in their presence. 

Rumors however didn't care about status.

He was once a knight fighting alongside the princes yet he never once spoke of them at home.

You as well as your sister were dying to see them. See if the Princelings were different than what was said by common folk.

Lord Ashford's daughter was turning 13 and was hosting a tourney to which you'd luckily received invitations. That's why you begged him for days to accompany them to southern Westeros for the tourney to then travel to Redkeep for the wedding.

The princes would most likely be invited as well.

You shut down the irrelevant thoughts just thinking of enjoying a vacation.

Quickly you aided your sister in getting ready and did so yourself. You both bid your mother proper farewells and hastily joined your father by the entrance.

Stepping out of the carriage you heaved a sigh. Immediately overwhelmed by the scent of sweat, metal and something else.

The tourney was far from what you expected. Locally run tournaments were far less extravagant than this. There were hundreds, potentially even thousands of knights, nobles and entertainers. All bunched up in one place with tents as far as the eye could see.

Picking up the bottom of your gown you made your way to the biggest tent. It didn't matter if it was sullied by the mud on the floor however you would try your best to not seem rigid so your sister could rest easy.

You had yet to know oh how hard it would be to remain dignified here.

"My Lord, my lady," you curtsied before your father continued for you. "It is an honor to be here Lord Ashford. We wish your daughter all the best on her birthday." He handed an attendant a box most like containing a silver necklace imbedded with a charming gem of some sort as your family was best known for your stone mines.

The conversation between the lords continued and you were guided towards a considerably oversized dining table within the labyrinth of aristocratic tents. Your sister took a seat but you continued walking around the "hall" to stretch and move your feet. You scanned the astounding display.

The tent had a crimson tint to it making it appear as though you were swimming in a sea of blood. Befitting of the golden accents to the carpeted floor and gleaming lights.

Gold had always represented tranquillity in your mind. So precious yet so fragile in its purest form.

Heavy looking seats rested against the thick fabric wall. You wondered how many men it took to move all of these furnishings especially the table in the previous room and this beautiful stand of lanterns before you.

Reaching up to touch one of the candles you were interrupted and seemingly caught red handed.

"Truly marvelous, isn't it, my lady?" You almost jumped at the sudden intrusion into your thoughts.

The resonant voice belonged to an apparently refined knight with his palms rested behind his back. He smiled kindly at your frightened frame.

You could bet a few silver coins on him thinking you look like a cat out of water. Terrified and grotesque. 

A bet you would lose as he held you for the most bewitching human he'd ever seen.

It was definitely a man of higher rank than your family. You could tell just by the way he carried himself with his shoulders resting and his chest pressed up. Had he been meticulously trained on how to even properly breathe?

This mysterious man was the most ethereal creature you'd seen in your life.

His body was well built in a lean manner from what you could tell with the dark grey armor hugging him.

He had a face as pretty as a picture and as handsome as Aegon the Conqueror most like was. Dissimilar eyes of imposing beauty with the left being as blue as the ocean and the right as marvelous as his dark brown hair, styled in a neat fashion.

As he bent down slightly to take your hand you discovered a streak of silver-gold on the side of his head. Even threatening to someday reach his hairline.

His touch was warm, hot even, as if he himself had risen in the dance of the dragons and won. As if his hair was evidence of him being a sort of deity millions would worship.

Even his scent was extraordinary. A linen-like smell laced with honey and wood. And something else.

Gods, never had a man taken over all of your senses before this very moment.

He was a dangerous and lethal person that much you could tell without trouble. You prayed this interaction would be your last.

You were entirely too captivated by his presence and especially his eyes to look away. With your hand in his grasp he gave it a gentle kiss which made your heart flutter.

'Get a grip, woman, you were never this easy!' Your sister would definitely find joy in teasing you.

However your dam of stone and with it your self control was on the brink of collapse with water rushing through in streams.

You looked at him even ignoring his greeting until a dawning reality crashed into you to which you let out an unladylike and audible gasp. Though you weren't as educated as you'd wished, the color of his hair streak could only mean one thing.

A Targaryen.

Immediately following the devastating realization you looked down and began in a rush,

"I greet your Highness the Prince. I'm incredibly sorry for my rude behavior."

Praying he wasn't the crown prince so you didn't accidentally insult him you gnawed at your bottom lip. An action he caught and would mull over for days much to your unknowingness.

But it seemed you were right. 

You were aggressively lecturing yourself about your idiotic action and contemplating if running now or later would be best for your survival when he chuckled.

He just chuckled after giving you a heart attack in more ways than one. And he dared make such a heartwarming sound that you had to look up in stupefaction.

A flash of frustration creased your brow and hatred sparked in your eyes, letting him know that this sound was not appreciated. To which his smile just turned into a small grin only meant for you.

He let go of your hand which he held onto for a few seconds too long, might you add, and rose again to his full height.

Instantly you ached for the warmth of his touch again only being met with the shadow of it. Your fingers followed his own desperately but dared not touch him again.

"Take no thought. As I am often ill in bed not many recognize me at first glance. It should be I who has to apologize for startling you, my lady."

The Prince's way of carrying himself slightly crouched and his face wore a somber expression.

You on the other hand straightened yourself at the threat evaded and tried to return to your senses.

Gripping the fabric of your sapphire - almost cerulean blue - dress only to let go of the cloth. This action helped to ground you since you were a child.

"My Prince, I'm glad you took no offense in my idiocy.", you consoled him as best you could, "It pains me that you cannot get the recognition you deserve due to sickness. If you were to ask me I'd say you don't look sickly at all and rather adequately strong... and h-healthy!"

You had just stated your mind without a thought yet again. It seemed like cheering up this sad dragon was now a priority of yours even when you couldn't hold your tongue.

The Prince genuinely beamed at your words and you could see a slight dimple on his cheek.

His reaction reminded you of a young pup you'd begged your father for as a toddler and never received. These thoughts however would probably get you executed for treason. Why were you even comparing a prince to a dog?

Somewhere in the main tent the entrance was flapped open sending a wave of fresh air into the room to wash away the tension and his fragrance. The candle lights flickered rapidly mirroring your current state of mind.

"I'm incredibly honored to hear you think that. Might I know your name?"

Oh, here it was. You would state your name and instantly get sent to the Gods. Out of fear your throat grew dry so you swallowed harshly and wetted your lips. 

This action made his gaze falter from your eyes for a split second. You weren't sure if you'd seen wrongly. Of course no Prince would gaze at your lips. 

"Your highness, they call me Y/N of house -"

Your name crossed his lips like a faint prayer, in an inaudible sound, a whisper.

You started fumbling with your hands. You wanted to get out of this situation as fast as possible. "My sister is getting married soon so we thought it would be nice to visit a childhood friend of ours, the birthday girl." 

For as long as blood still runs warmly in your veins and this Princeling has not yet killed you either via sword, mockery or something you dare not name, you plan his murder and your escape all on your own.

You would truly be fucked if someone could read your thoughts at this very moment.

In that second relief washed over you as an attendant crossed the hall and popped the little bubble you and mystery prince had built around you. He distanced himself, now realizing how close he'd become and so did you.

Then he muttered, "I enjoyed our conversation. You're a really," he took a second to think of a word that would not offend you, as you seemed the person who would take offense in things he did not mean for you to take offense in.

"a very lively young lady."

He smiled slightly uncertain of the words that pressured to spill from his tongue. But he breathed them out anyway.

"Lively and truly pleasant to talk to. I hope you enjoy your stay here." He began moving towards you to go the way you came, but before leaving he leaned down slightly and added, "Feel free to cheer for me in the tourney. I will be looking forward to seeing you again, kasta hontes."

You despised not knowing something and that nickname would be the end of you if you were lucky enough to meet him again.

As your mother often said you're one lucky girl.

Hours later did you register that he had not uttered his name to you.

Kasta hontes means blue bird in high valyrian.

a/n. Tysm for reading. I hope you enjoyed this short chapter. I'll try to write somewhat regularly if I can. Send me suggestions on micro tropes you'd like!

Tag list. @03stepedwa

Characters .✦ ݁˖

Fem!reader - The oldest daughter of a Lord. She has been taught to take over the family business of managing stone mines. They're a moderately profitable house.

Rhea - The youngest daughter of said Lord. She's a sweet girl who has a selfless personality which makes Y/N protective of her. She has been promised to a son of Dragons.

Valarr - The oldest son of the crown prince of the seven kingdoms. He had spent his days training to become an honorable knight and a prince befitting of someday taking over the throne. 

Daeron - The eldest son of Prince Maekar. He's often seen drinking his worries away. He dreams or rather has vague prophetic visions making him miserable.

The Spotify link for the book's playlist: 

a/n. This is my first time trying to dive into the GOT universe in writing so bear with me. Also english isn't my first language I apologize in advance for any errors.

"I will be looking forward to seeing you again, kasta hontes." 

What was that even supposed to mean?? Had he personally invited you to interact with him? Infront of both your parents nonetheless. Was the cheering he was after a token of favor?

And was there a possibility that he might be the betrothed of your sister?

Endless questions and possibilities distressed you.

You hated your father in that moment for leaving you in the dark as to who the groom was.

Long into the night there was still one candle burning and it was yours.

Your sister had tried to pry into you for information however you stayed firm only telling her that you wanted to make a special gift for her wedding. Which wasn't entirely wrong as you intended to handcraft something for her but there was more to it.

Nothing but a small white lie to keep her from pressing for information. To your short lived relief she had just huffed and left you alone, going on about her own nightly routine. 

Gripping your head a guilt washed over you. Perhaps the reason you were so against telling your sister about the encounter was because of her reaction. 

It was completely useless to chew over the whole thing. Nothing but a short meeting with a knight. You'd learned to conceal unnecessary emotions throughout your childhood. Your dear sister would spend her days with a wonderful husband and not be burdened. 

Even if that husband was making you slowly incapable of having any other thoughts. 

Despite your uncertainties you decided to embroider a token of favor. It was your duty as a noble lady after all. 

Hours passed with you hurting your neck and changing positions every now and again. Determined to finish the trivial matter you sewed with all possible haste. You'd done this more times than you could count but for some unknown reason you wanted this one to be the most intricate piece you had ever done.

Well past midnight you finally reached the last wing. You muttered insults under your breath over and over again. More to yourself than anyone else.

After four long hours and a few bloody fingers you finished the embroidered piece. The fabric was made of silver silk, lovely to the touch. A dark ashen dragon flying alongside a barely smaller blue jay covered one half of the cloth.

You'd read about that kind of bird at 8 while actually being in the library to study for an assignment: which king had been the most cruel?

Getting scolded over and over again for showing interest in such irrelevant things was usually how interactions with your father would go. However your mother always said to not be discouraged.

She herself sneaked books of your interest into your room not long after you started reading. The small sketch of that bird was engraved into your mind since that fateful day.

Releasing the tension in your back you snagged your pouch for the morrow and stuffed the handkerchief and the gift for your sister into it. And finally rested.

"Ser Duncan, do you believe I can be a knight one day?", a young squire pulled at the shirt of an overly tall Man.

With a heavy accent he replied, "You will grow up to be a fine knight." 

The sight intrigued you. Having just been on a morning stroll around the grounds to clear your head you didn't expect to meet such an odd looking squire. You wondered how they spent their days. 

"Three coins for a piece of bread? That is outrageous!" The older one was clearly not content with recent inflation. You chuckled and made your way over to the stand. 

You placed the sum on the counter, "My treat." 

"Thank you very much, my lady", the squire was well spoken. Potentially something he picked up from a previous liege. His current master however was just frozen in place. 

"I'm happy to help." You gazed at the knight who was clearly flustered. "Ser Duncan, right? Will you be participating in the tournament?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes, my lady. You're really kind." 

Smiling at him you nodded and then lowered yourself to the squires level. "And who might you be, future knight?" 

He grinned at the nickname. "They call me Egg."

"Egg, such a fitting name." You teased while looking at his head and his smile turned into a playful scowl. You could tell he was stifling a laugh. Ser Duncan however just cracked up.

"Well then I'll be cheering for you in the tournament."

Dozens of attendants had been scrambling to prepare the dining hall for the princes and lords. The smell of freshly cooked meat wafted through the halls. Something at the pit of your stomach just wouldn't go away. This made you utterly restless. 

"Father said this dinner will be a brief affair and not the formal introduction of our families since we've come in honor of the ashfords." Rhea sounded dissatisfied yet held her composure well. 

You nodded once and squeezed her hand reassuringly. More for yourself than for her if you were being completely honest.

The suspense was comparable to a rope around your neck. 

Wooden soles of your shoes clattered against the stone floor as you strutted towards the room. Both of you entered the dining hall simultaneously.

You swallowed harshly and looked around the room with the exception of the table. Someone was already shamelessly looking your way and you had a good feeling who it might be. 

Your gaze thankfully landed on the two present older princes were engrossed in a conversation with your father and lord ashford. Or rather they were talking and the lords just nodded along. 

Once your father spotted you he made a relieved expression and beckoned you to come to them. 

"These are my daughters. Y/N my eldest and Rhea my second child." His voice was filled with pride.

You both curtsied and greeted them. 

"It's truly an honor to meet you your highnesses."

The white haired man barely acknowledged you and just gave an absentminded hum. The older Prince however seemed pleased to see new faces. 

"The honor is ours." His smile was genuine. A proud yet kind-hearted man. "Feel free to take your seats. We have to discuss some minor things. We shall return to the dining hall shortly." 

You returned his smile and thanked him briefly before they along with the lords left the room. 

The search for a seat had been swift. There were only two seats available besides those reserved at the tables head. Rhea was quicker than you and took a seat next to a man with long dirty blond hair. He'd taken the initiative to start with a fine glass of wine. Most likely imported especially for this occasion. 

After a moments hesitation you sat down next to him. 

His eyes hadn't once moved from you since you had entered the room. 

Hair slightly disheveled from today's match preparations he finally averted your gaze to take a sip from his glass.

His face showed no scratches or bruises. It was a whole other thing to perceive him without his armor on. Just a lazy navy tunic with golden embellishments hung from his frame. That paired with black leather trousers.

He put the cup down slowly. The placement far too close to your plate. His sleeves were tucked away at his elbows in a neat fold. 

At a young age you were taught that staring was not permitted and unladylike. You couldn't however find it in you to care.

The now familiar smell of wood and honey submerged you as if underwater. The cause being the Prince leaning forward for a piece of Manchet.

"So you're the heir to that lordling?", an overbearing voice called. Your head snapped in its direction.

It belonged to a silver haired man who carried himself with the confidence of a king. He had his dagger in hand pointing it straight at you.

"Yes, that lord is my father, your highness." You nodded politely even though he fit the description of the most vile Targaryen according to the rumors.

"He thinks himself a dragon." They'd say. "A true monster."

In turn he hummed satisfied with himself and cracked open a nut with the dagger.

"Now do tell which one of you was sold off like livestock to our family." Then he haphazardly stuck a piece of the nut he had managed to crack open into his mouth. Chewing obnoxiously.

Rhea stiffened visibly next to you. You placed a hand on her thigh to calm her down. She'd just started leisurely chatting with the Targaryen next to her as this prince, Aerion Brightflame, they call him, had interrupted them.

One of the two whose reputation exceeded them. The madman and his drunken older brother. Who you presumed was the one sitting next to Rhea.

As for mystery prince he didn't have much to go off of. Slowly but surely you were uncovering this family.

"My sister is the one my father had planned a marriage arrangement for, if that's what you mean, your highness." The title tasted bitter on your tongue. 

The man scoffed. "He should've sold off both of you when he had the chance instead of making you a spinster."

It wasn't the first time you'd been called that. But it was the first time to your face.

Sure, your sister getting married before you was unusual but you hadn't felt insecure about it in any way. Nevertheless the tone of his voice and his mocking laugh after, enraged you beyond words.

The brown haired prince placed his hand next to yours on the table. Impossibly close. You could feel the heat radiating off of him.

Then your fingers touched. 

As if telling you that he's here. That he would be here forever. And you wanted to believe in that possibility of forever.

"Aerion, you shouldn't speak if you have nothing to say."

A cool air swept over the table. It was the first time he'd spoken up. His voice was as still as a breeze hinting at no fury yet this outwardly collected man had a flicker of rage in his eyes. He sharply turned down the man before him.

Consequently Aerion tensed up. In real time you felt him back down. It seemed as though your prince was able to rein him in.

You smiled. Perhaps he was not as villainous as you'd made him out to be. Your mystery.

After that the room recovered. Only Aerion was now too focused on his blade. Averting your gaze. 

"You have my gratitude. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my prince.", you began sarcastically. Trying to gain control of the moment before you lost your mind and stared too much.

Once again you stated your name. Urging him to do the same but your voice had a casual tone. 

"I apologize for my cousin. However I do believe we've made each other's acquaintance before, have we not?", with an innocent expression he teased.

His whole body was now turned towards you. You swallowed before continuing.

"Highly unlikely as I do not recall ever seeing you, your highness."

"Valarr."

"I'm sorry?" 

"That's my name." 

Involuntarily you mouthed it. A sweet feeling on your tongue. 

He breathed out too controlled after that. 

"You were not there regarding today's match?", he asked the question knowing the answer already. A pathetic attempt at changing the subject. 

You assumed he was looking for a reason for your absence.

"No, your highness, I was..."

"Valarr,... please. Call me Valarr." He pleaded as if the honorific had personally offended him. 

Oh.

You nodded breathlessly. The fabric of your gown already bunched up under the table in your left hand. 

"Fine. Valarr,..." You put strong emphasis on his name and glanced at the others around the table. Thankfully no one had overheard your familiarity with the Prince.

"I spent my day at the market at the foot of the tourney." 

He seemed pleased at that. 

"That sounds lovely. Did you find anything to your liking?"

"Surprisingly I became acquainted to a knight and his squire! Truly a hilarious duo."

"A knight?"

"Yes! One can't tell witts at first glance anymore. The squire had been far more knowledgeable than the hedge knight." You almost chuckled thinking back at the small child.

"You seem to attract people everywhere you go, kasta hontes."

a/n. Heard Oscar Morgan will be playing in Wednesday. They're feeding us ngl.

Tag list. @03stepedwa