with my dying breath...

MCU

Bucky Barnes

Lighthouse

Say the words

Frank Castle

The first encounter

Steve Rogers

I can't lose you too

AKOTSK

Baelor Targaryen

You are mine

Better love Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15(coming soon)

Maekar Targaryen

Look at me

Aerion Targaryen

Why would you be loved Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The Phoenix rises from the ashes and the Wolf gets ready to pounce on the prey.

Baelor Targaryen x Stark!reader

(I’m back and so is Lady Stark)

Series Masterlist

You insisted on returning to your chambers, the room you shared with your husband. The blank walls of the Maester’s office were making your head spin. You needed comfort, familiarity.

Walking was a different task all alone, each step proved agony, soaring pain burned through your every nerve, forcing wince after wince from your lips, making you shiver like a leaf in a storm.

Seeing you struggle, Ser Duncan the Tall intervened. Hand out in front, offering help “May I?”

Huffing in annoyance at your own incompetence you simply nodded. With surprising gentleness for a man of his size, he lifted you into his arms with ease and carried you to your chambers, careful and steady with every stride.

His arms around you felt like a shield, his body was emitting heat that surrounded you. Closing your eyes you let his warmth comfort you. Upon reaching your chambers, he carefully placed you on your bed.

Breathing in the familiar scent of your husband that lingered in the room, you felt at ease. Whispering a soft gratitude you settled in your bed ,he replied with a stern nod and a soft smile.

Pausing a moment to make sure you were okay, Dunk then quietly turned to leave the room, to resume his duty outside your door

“Duncan” the fragile croak of your voice pulled on his heart, halting him where he stood. He turned to face you, waiting for you, with gentle eyes in question.

“Please stay, I do not wish to be alone” tears welled up in your eyes which you were quick to hide, getting more interested in pulling at the seams of your blanket.

But Duncan noticed, like he always does. Always when it comes to you. With a sudden courage he moved forward, his finger hooking under your chin to tilt your face up to him, his eyes found yours as he uttered “Anything you ask”

A moment later he pulled away, turning around to retreat in the corner, was when you swiftly wrapped your fingers around his armoured wrist, halting him.

“No.” You patted the space beside you, signaling for him to sit. He complied without hesitation, he would do anything for you. The heavy armor made sitting on the bed awkward and uncomfortable, but he barely noticed. His entire focus was on ensuring you were okay.

After he awkwardly settled beside you, one leg folded onto the bed while the other hung over the edge, you leaned your head against his shoulder. The cool of his armour pressed against your cheek, the steel was cold and biting, yet strangely comforting. With your eyes closed, you savoured the icy coldness seeping through the metal.

He glanced down, only to find you resting against him in quiet contentment. A relief ran through his bones,after everything this was the first time you looked a little better. The sight of you, safe, breathing, with him was rewarding.

The room fell into silence, when he was sure you were asleep you softly whispered.

“Tell me something… anything,” you wanted no silent spaces where you were forced to think about…

A Shudder ran through you at the thought, so you continued

“Tell me about you, about your adventures with Ser Alan”

And he did

“Flea Bottom crushed anyone without coin. Rafe and I survived the only way we knew how, by scavenging. We even robbed the dead,who fell in the rebellion. It was a shameful way to live, but the dead had no use for things that could buy us a warm meal…”

Whenever the demons in your head grew too loud, his voice quieted them. He shared every secret with you, from Rafe and her death to how Ser Alan took him under his wing.

It was not long before your eyes grew heavy. Seeing you doze off, Dunk gently tried easing you back against the pillows. The sudden movement startled you awake.

“Shh…Sleep, my lady. I’ll be right here,” he murmured, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders. He settled into the chair beside the bed, watching quietly as slumber pulled you in.

_____________________________________________

Baelor felt as though he was being torn apart. Every tear, every ache, every piece of grief you carried, felt like a wound he had inflicted himself. How could he have been the reason for your pain? How could he have failed you in the one way he had sworn he never would?

The moment you spoke his name like a prayer, he promised himself he would protect your heart, not be the one to break it.

Now, even his presence was a source of pain, a reminder of betrayal, incompetence, and failure. Your request for him to leave echoed in his mind like a gong, each toll striking with enough force to bring him to his knees.

But he needed to see you, because he needed you like the lung needs air, like the waves would always crash against the shore. A constant pull, a quiet certainty, an endless return.

So his feet carried him to you. Maester Malleon informed him of your request to get moved back to your chambers. So honouring your desire to be spared of his presence, he asked for preparation to be made for him, planning to sleep in his solar.

Stopping by the door, he collected himself. He raised his hand to knock, but the second his hand touched the door it pushed ajar. The first sight he saw was your sleeping form under the blanket, his pillow between your arms as you nuzzled your head into it, and beside you in the chair slept Ser Duncan

Ser Duncan, he was grateful for the knight’s unwavering presence. The way he was devoted to make sure you were okay since the day you collapsed was commendable. He did not stray away even for a second from you.

Deciding not to disturb your peaceful sleep he turned around to leave towards his solar but almost clashed with your maid Aileen.

“My Prince” she quickly bowed. The kettle on the tray was steaming, the scent of the tea overwhelmed his senses. The smell was strange, almost pungent.

“What is this?”

“The Maester instructed me to bring this to Lady Stark, he asks that she drinks this at once”

He nodded his head in approval “Take it to her” Aileen quickly entered the threshold, while he stood outside the door.

The shuffle of her feet as she placed the tray on the table woke Duncan up. His hand instinctively reached for his sword, jumping to his feet.

“At ease Ser, it’s just me” Aileen calmed the startled knight. Pouring the tea in a cup she turned towards you, she gently nudged you awake.

“My lady?”

“Hm Aileen?” You squinted your eyes that were still heavy from sleep. You pushed yourself to sit up. Aileen helped you with her hand on your back

“The Maester asked for you to drink this” she signalled to Ser Duncan who passed her the tea cup from the tray which she took and offered you.

You looked at the cup in her hand curiously, “What is it?” The hesitation in her eyes made you uneasy. You were now wide awake, you consciousness was sharped to a degree that every little breath, every uncomfortable shuffle from The knight and your maid was noted in your head. The moment she shy her gaze away from you made your breath quicken

“Aileen?” You pressed her for answers

“It is to…” she shifted her weight, your eyes did not leave hers even for a mere second. Gulping nervously she continued “It is to help you pass what remains”

The dread returned, threading itself through your bones like a sickness that had rooted itself deep within your marrow, hollowing you out from the inside until there was nothing left.

The pity in your maid’s eyes made your blood curdle.

You wanted to rip the look from her face.

They all looked at you that way now. As if they had buried the person you once were long ago, lowered you into the grave they called grief. To them, you were no longer a woman with thoughts, rage, desires, or a will of her own.

You were merely the mother whose child had been stolen from her, a tragic thing, shattered beyond repair, existing only as a monument to loss. They mourned you while you still breathed.

“Leave” your voice hid the wildfire that was crackling through you into a soft monotone whisper.

“Please, you need to drink this” Aileen pleaded unaware of the heavy boulder that weighed on your chest that was threatening to pull you underwater.

“Leave Aileen”

“Please, my lady” and in a moment, rage took over your limbs as you snatched the cup from her hands only to chuck it across the room.

The scalding brew burned your hand as the cup shattered into pieces. Your reckless action startled Aileen as she stumbled back with a jerk.

Ser Duncan was quick to gather your injured hand in his, examining your skin that was raw and blistered, but you were quick to snatch it away towards you, wanting nothing but to be alone in this drowning agony.

Your eyes found his bright blue one, the devouring inferno beneath your skin now burned in your iris.

“Leave me alone” The knight gave a reluctant nod before making his way to the door, gesturing for your maid to follow him out.

The moment they vanished from sight, you screwed your eyes shut, clamping back the hot streaks burning down your face. Your limbs stiffened into heavy stone.

Forcing your dead weight up from the mattress, you dragged yourself towards the table like a ghost. Your hands convulsed, rattling the kettle as you poured the red liquid into a fresh cup. The sickening stench hit your throat, making your stomach turn.

With trembling fingers, you raised the cup to your lips, forcing the tea down your throat in a desperate gulp that sent the liquid spilling down your neck.

The moment the heat settled in your stomach, you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. Cheek hollowed, eyes sunken, lips cracked and colourless, you finally understood the pity in everyone’s eyes. You looked like death was just a breath away from claiming you. It was terrifying to realise that you did not recognise the woman that stared back at you.

As the cup in your hand struck the glass, your reflection instantly fractured into a thousand broken fragments, mirroring as you felt. A stomach churning scream tore through your lungs as you thrashed everything in sight.

Your agonizing screams pierced right through the heavy door. Outside, Duncan and Aileen itched to get to you, seeing them advance Baelor spoke up, “Don’t, let her get it out”.

Baelor slid to his knees against the door. His head pressed against the wood as he listened to your agony. Each sound was a direct blow to him as he felt entirely helpless, forced to sit there and endure the sound of your pain.

_____________________________________________

You didn’t know how long you had sat among the ruins. Your voice was gone, worn out raw, even drawing a single breath sent a sharp ache through your chest. The blistered skin on your hand sting. You were certain you cut your foot somewhere as a pool of red lay under it. You felt hollow, emptied of everything except the wolf pacing behind your ribs, starving for blood, for vengeance.

So you pushed yourself upright, forcing your trembling legs to bear your weight. Every painful step left a bloodied footprint in your wake. As you pulled the door open, your gaze met Baelor’s, who was still on his knees. He sprang to his feet at once, his beautiful odd coloured eyes found yours.

You looked as though you had just walked out of a bloody battle. Baelor’s eyes immediately fell to your injuries, his concern growing with each one he noticed. But before he could fuss over them, your voice reached him.

“I want Alyse Manwoody,” you said, your voice as calm and steady as the deep sea.

There was something different about you, something cold, dangerous. Even Duncan and Aileen shrank beneath your gaze.

“And you shall have her” Baelor vowed without hesitation.

«««««««««««««««« »»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

Part 15 (soon)

Taglist -

You didn't always sing it right

But who could call you wrong?

To put your emptiness to melody

Your awful heart to song

Aerion Targaryen x reader

Series Masterlist

(Author’s note - angst, fluff, yearning, jealousy, a literal cocktail. Enjoy)

“May I ask what brings you to my wife’s tent at this ungodly hour?” Aerion’s eyes held Baelor in an intimidating stare. Anyone else would have folded under the weight of it, but the man standing before him was the Breakspear.

“I brought her a salve,” Baelor replied smoothly. “To ease the pain in her thighs.”

“Hm, you could have easily asked the maid to bring it here, why the personal handoff?” You were no fool, Aerion's suspicions were glaringly obvious. Before his wrath could reach the Crown Prince, you stepped forward, shielding Baelor. Yet even as you stood between them, Aerion’s gaze never left him

“He was just checking up on me,” you answered, cutting in before Baelor could speak. At your voice he turned to you. Aerion’s breathing turned a bit heavy, a spark of rage flared in his eyes. It was subtle but you saw it. He did not like how quick you were to defend his uncle.

He had caught your hand resting on his uncle’s shoulder when he entered and noticed exactly how fast you pulled it away the moment he appeared. The image was seared into his brain.

His heart clenched as an unfamiliar emotion washed over him, his gaze boring into you. Behind you, Baelor stood in tense silence. Without breaking eye contact with your husband, you spoke clearly, "Prince Baelor, would you be so kind as to give us the room? I wish to speak with my husband in private."

Though he hesitated, Baelor respected your wishes. "Of course. I will see you on the morrow. Good night" he murmured. You turned just enough to offer him a parting smile as he stepped out into the night.

“What was he doing here?” You let out an exasperated sigh

“As I said, he merely brought me some salve and asked after my well-being. He noticed the book I was reading, and we had a conversation about dragons and Targaryen history.”

He took a step closer to you, trying to spot a lie in your eyes, but he failed. Still the image of your hand on Baelor’s shoulder troubled him.

“Why was your hand on his shoulder?” His jaw was clenched tight.

"What I just told you is the truth, and I have no further desire to explain myself," you said, turning to walk toward your bed.

His hand clamped gently around your wrist, halting you instantly. "You are my wife. You will not walk away from me without answering."

You pulled your hand,breaking his grip on you. enraged by his demands, you snarled “You have no claim over me” Closing the distance between you two, you tilted your head to look him dead in the eye “You lost that right the moment you took another woman to your bed”

Silence graced around you as your breath fanned across his skin, your scent completely overwhelming his senses. Your chest heaved with every breath, brushing against the front of his doublet.

Collecting himself, he confessed, his voice barely a whisper, “I haven’t touched another. Not since the night you struck me.”

You blinked in surprise, caught completely off guard by his words. The honesty in his eyes made your heart desperately want to believe him, but everything in your head screamed not to.

“If you think I am going to believe your lies, you are mistaken,” you snapped.

Before the words fully left your mouth, his hands rose to cradle your face. “Tell me,” he murmured, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips. “Have I ever lied to you?”

The question stunned you. You searched your memory for even a single instance of deceit, but found nothing, and that realization only fueled your rage.

“Fuck you,” you spat, tearing his hands away.

You retreated towards your bed, utterly unsettled. The raw honesty in his eyes disturbed you to your core. He was supposed to be cruel, evil. And yet the careful tenderness of his touch was the one thing you couldn't seem to shake.

He hesitated only briefly before storming out of the tent, leaving you alone with the haunting memory of his honest eyes and tender touch.

_____________________________________________

The following day began with an unexpected turn of events. Maekar’s eldest son, Daeron, and little Aegon had wandered off during the night and were nowhere to be found. Their disappearance weighed heavily on everyone’s minds, and was made all more pressing by Prince Maekar’s who was certain that the disappearance was Daeron’s doing.

It was midday when your caravan reached Ashford, the ride was heavy with silence beside Aerion. Ever since his confession the day before, he had frozen you out completely, ignoring you. Upon your arrival, the herald’s announcement pierced the air as Lord Ashford and his daughter stepped forward to receive the caravan.

Prince Baelor and Prince Maekar dismounted their horses to greet Lord Ashford and everyone else rode towards the stables.

Your attention was quickly drawn to a tall, broad shouldered man standing nearby, his curious eyes roaming over the gathered crowd. When his gaze met yours, you offered him a kind smile. He returned the gesture with a slight bow of his head before looking away.

Aerion had noticed the man as well. Wasting no time, he called out to him, his tone lazy and disinterested. “Boy, stop gaping, see to my horse.”

“I’m-I’m not a stable boy, my lord” he hastily replied

Aerion looked at him. “Not clever enough?”

He dismounted his horse and turned toward you, ready to help you down, but you were quicker. Swinging your leg over the saddle, you slipped effortlessly to the ground before he had the chance.

“I have the honour to be a knight” at the man’s voice your husband turned to face him, his calculating yet demeaning gaze sized him up and down.

“Hm, knighthood has fallen on sad days,” you sighed at his retort. His silence throughout the day had almost made you forget just how irritating he could be. Casting the hedge knight one last glance, he turned on his heel and walked away.

After your husband departure, you approached the knight who stood stunned by the insult thrown at him. "I must apologise for my husband’s behaviour, Ser," you said softly. "He can be a bit cruel at times."

"You have no reason to apologise, my lady." A gentle smile touched his lips, and as you looked at him, you realised his eyes were the kindest you had ever seen.

“You are here to partake in the tourney, yes?” He answered with a respectful nod.

"Then I wish you the best of luck, Ser."

"Thank you, my lady." Granting him one last smile you left towards your assigned chambers to get some rest.

_____________________________________________

The maid led you to your chambers. Upon entering, you found Aerion standing by the window, gazing out at the grounds beyond.

“Lord Ashford has arranged for us to share these chambers,” he said, answering the question that had already formed in your mind.

“Okay” You crossed the distance between you and took your place beside him, studying the view spread out below.

“The tourney commences at sunset. We are expected in attendance,” Aerion said, his eyes flicking briefly toward you before returning to the horizon.

“When will you ride in the lists?” you asked.

“Tomorrow” You nod your head, deep in thought.

Aerion’s silence is fast becoming your greatest torment. While you can tolerate his annoying habit of constantly crowding your personal space, these short clipped answers were driving you to absolute madness.

You considered bringing up last night’s conversation, wondering if you should prod at a wound that was only beginning to scab over.

While you hesitated, Aerion took a step back, intent on leaving the chambers. Before you could think better of it, your hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist.

“Aerion.”

The simple touch stopped him cold.

Surprise flickered across his face. Since the day you were marriage, you had never been the one to reach for him first. Never sought him out. Never held on.

And somehow, that small act seemed to unmake something inside him.

His gaze dropped to where your fingers circled his wrist, lingering there as though he could scarcely believe it. For a moment, he said nothing.

“I believe you.”

His eyes lifted to yours. A faint crease sat between his brows

“I know you have never lied to me.”

The words hung in the space between you.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the tension eased from his face. The furrow between his brows softened, and something gentler took its place.

“I’m sorry for-“

“It’s okay” he murmured, cutting you. He searched your eyes as if it was the only thing grounding him right now. Stepping closer, he lifted his hand that still had your digits coiling them to his mouth and pressed a delicate kiss to your knuckles, never once looking away as his hand covered yours.

You hand tingled where his lips touched, once again the tenderness of the moment had you holding your breath.

The moment was cut short as a knock echoed through the chambers and your handmaiden called out, “The bath is ready, My Lady”

You looked over and then looked back at your husband who had a faint smile curling his lips, “Get some rest” you simply nodded your head as his footsteps retreated out your chambers

_____________________________________________

Cheers erupted from the crowd at the appearance of the royal family. Baelor raised a hand in acknowledgment, taking his place next to Lord Ashford while Prince Maekar sat to his left. Your hand in Aerion’s , a necessary part you played in front of the realm, you walked to the opposite side and took your seats as the tourney began.

The skill displayed on the grounds was unlike anything you had ever seen. Lyonel Baratheon laughed like a storm as he rode with lance in hand, making the brutal art of jousting look effortless, rising victorious.

Prince Valarr was another notable fighter, the crowd’s favourite. His opponent stood no chance against the him, the sweet Targaryen Prince rode in confidence.

It was long before the first bouts ended, the long and minimal rest had tired you to your bones, so as soon as the herald announced the end of the day, you retreated to your chambers.

Having changed into a silk nightshift, you settled beneath the covers, eager at last for a restful night’s sleep.

Just as your eyes began to grow heavy, the door opened, and Aerion sauntered inside.

You made no sound as to not give away your state of consciousness, you listened to him moving about the chambers, the soft rustle of fabric and then a heavy metallic clink as he shrugged off his heavy doublet and the chain mail underneath.

Changing into linen tunic and loose trousers, Aerion lifted the covers and slipped into bed beside you, careful not to disturb your feigned slumber.

The room fell into silence after your husband settled down. His presence had sleep abandon you. Even with your eyes closed, you felt his gaze on you. You kept your breathing slow and steady, determined to maintain the act, But when his finger brushed against the softness of your cheek, your breath nearly hitched, lodging itself in your throat.

“Good night” a soft whisper, said under his breath as he exhaled a day’s worth of tiredness. You felt a layer of coldness around your heart begin to melt. You longed to return those words, to whisper it back to him, but you held on to the illusion of sleep.

The soft wisps of his breath smoothed out in a rhythm as he fell asleep, Only then did you dare open your eyes and truly look at him. Without the arrogant scowl etched across his features, he seemed younger somehow. The harsh lines of his face had softened, leaving behind something that looked gentle.

You lingered on the sight for a moment, committing it to memory, and then sleep claimed you too.

⟡°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⟡

Part 6 (soon)

The tragedy of your poisoning brings betrayal to your doorstep.

Baelor Targaryen x Stark!reader

Series Masterlist

Baelor could only stand in paralyzed silence before he send Ser Duncan who frantically rushed to fetch the Maesters. You, however, didn't move. Horror held you captive as you stared down, watching in numb disbelief as the bedsheets drank in your blood

"What is happening to me?" you whispered, looking to your husband for answers. But Baelor could only pull you closer, his quiet murmurs of comfort doing little to calm your racing heart as you stared in shock at the crimson stained bedsheets.

It did not take long for Maester Malleon to arrive. You looked as if were frozen in time, eyes still on the sheets, Baelor still had his arms around you. The Crown Prince was no fool. He, at the core of his being, knew what tragedy had just befell you both.

But still there was sliver of hope in his heart, and he desperately wanted to be proven wrong.

Seeing the severity of the situation, Maester Malleon soften his voice while asking you the dreaded question. “When was the last time you bled, My Lady?”

Your eyes did not move away, the red of your blood made you feel numb. Everything around you was fuzzy. The only thing you felt was this horrid emptiness.

Then you felt Baelor’s palm on your cheek as he turned you to face him. Your eyes found his mismatched ones, and you snapped out, as he asked you the same question.

“When was the last time you bled, My love?”

“Baelor” your fingers grasped his doublet, and pulled him closer to you. “Answer me, please” he whispered as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

Your brows pulled together as you tried thinking through the haze you were under.

No matter how hard you tried, you could just not recall clearly when you had your moon blood.

“Maybe two moons ago, I don’t remember”

Baelor eyes were quick to turn glassy as he just looked at you in dread.

“A word, my prince” the Maester suggested

“No, you speak here in front of me” you demanded, desperate to know what was happening.

Maester Malleon was tongue-tied, there was simply no gentle way to break the news, so he spoke plainly

“You were with child, My lady”

"A child?" Your hand instinctively cradled your stomach. A child, yours… A perfect blend of you and Baelor. A small, tender smile graced your face and you turned to share the joy with your husband, but the sight of him stopped you. Tears blurred his eyes, and his shoulders dropped with heavy sorrow “Why are you crying?" you asked, your voice filled with a deep, innocent confusion.

Then it hit you, and you snapped your head towards the Maester “Were? , why do you mean?”

“The poison was potent, my lady. The babe is lost”

The walls seemed to tilt and spin. A sharp, agonizing pain flared across your chest, making every shallow intake of air feel like a knife twisting in your lungs.

"What is he saying?" You turned toward your husband, "Baelor, what is he saying?" He just sat there, head buried in his hands, refusing to look at you. Desperate, you gripped his shoulder, shaking him as you wept his name. "Baelor!"

Air escaped you in sharp, frantic bursts, your chest heaving against the sudden emptiness.

"Look at me, please," you whispered, gently pulling his hands away to lift his face. The sheer brokenness in his eyes made your heart sink.

"No... No." You pressed his hand firmly against your stomach and held it there, searching his eyes for any sign of hope. "The babe is okay, Baelor. Nothing happened. We are fine." But your husband gently, agonizingly pulled his hand from your grasp.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice cracking with a heavy, suffocating grief that made your own throat tighten.

The sob that ripped through you was so loud, so broken, it seemed to shake the very walls. Standing silently in the corner of the room was Duncan, who flinched at the pure heartbreak in your voice.

You clawed and thrashed, desperate to escape the hollow numbness freezing your bones. Baelor pulled you against his chest, locking his arms around you to protect you from your own despair, to keep you from hurting yourself, but he knew it was futile.

His own heart was shattered. In that moment, he wanted to set the whole world on fire, anything to drown out the agony ripping through his soul.

____________________________________________

With Baelor’s consent, the Maester pressed the milk of the poppy to your lips to soothe your hysteria. You now lay in a profound, dreamless sleep, the fresh white linens was a stark contrast to the ruined, bloodied bedding that had been hastily cast aside.

Baelor sat vigilantly at your bedside, cradling your limp hand as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered. A heavy shroud of guilt consumed him as he took in the silent tranquility of your face, a reminder of the tear streaked anguish you had worn just moments before.

He agonized over the memory of you breaking down, pleading with every ounce of your soul for him to deny what was already done, to save you from the agony of the truth. He had vowed to be your harbor, but in your darkest hour, he felt entirely broken by his failure to shelter you.

A knock on the door pulled him away from his thoughts, “Yes?” Ser Donnel stepped inside the room, head bowed “My prince, the king has demanded your presence in his solar”

“Not now”

“I’m afraid it is urgent” Baelor let out a deep sigh. He leaned down to press a kiss to your knuckles, and whispered “I’ll be right back”.

Leaving the room he spotted Ser Duncan who stood sharp, guarding the door. The knight turned towards him at his presence. “Stay with her, until I get back. I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes” Baelor requested.

"Of course, my prince." As soon as Baelor left, Dunk stepped into the shadows of the doorway, watching you. His heart clenched at the sight of you. The poison, your collapse, the loss of the babe, the terrifying memories flooded his mind.

An incessant voice in his head that sounded entirely like his own repeated the same relentless taunt

None of this would have happened if you’d just put your feelings aside and stood by her as her sword.

He crossed the room with hesitant steps, sinking to his knees beside your bed. Bowing his head against the mattress, he let out a broken apology. "I'm sorry," he whispered to your still, unconscious form. He repeated the words like a prayer, a penance, until tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, met only by the quiet rhythm of your breathing.

____________________________________________

Baelor’s long stride towards the king solar were purposeful. He was furious at his father’s demand for his attendance, but being a dutiful son he agreed to visit.

Barging in the King’s solar he stop in front of his father “You asked for me?”

Daeron the good, looked up from his scrolls to find his eldest son, “I did, I heard what happened. How she is now?”

“She is sleeping right now. The maesters gave her milk of the poppy to ease her pain.” The King studied his son, noting the heavy toll tragedy had taken on him. Losing a child was never easy.

“And how are you?” The question caught the prince off guard. The rage burning in his veins, the heartbreak tearing at his chest, and the sheer helplessness of failing to shield his wife from pain were utterly crushing him.

He knew that if he spoke, his resolve would shatter and the tears would flow and they would never stop. So he merely shook his head, locking his grief away in the dark corners of his mind. Steeling himself with a deep breath he asked “What is it you require of me?”

The king spoke up after a moment, “We have a council meeting in an hour, and I want you in attendance”

“I cannot be gone for long. I must be there when she wakes,” Baelor explained. There was little else he could do for his wife, but he would sooner die than let her endure this torment alone.

“I’m aware that Lady Stark needs you right now, but you are the crown prince, you have duties you need to tend to”

“My only duty right now is to be by her side.” He turned to leave, but his father’s stern voice halted him. “Do not forget your station. You are next in line. The realm places its trust in you, it expects obedience, sacrifice….”

He snapped back, his voice echoing. “The realm can burn for all I care!”

Baelor’s outburst shocked the King. Never in his life had Baelor raised his voice to his father, nor had he ever shown such disregard for the realm, a duty he had always placed above all else. But standing before the King now was no longer the obedient heir. He was a man and a husband driven by love, willing to do whatever it took to be what his wife needed.

Before the King could recover from his shock and speak another word, Baelor turned on his heel and left.

____________________________________________

Rain lashed against the windows of the Red Keep, bringing with it the heavy, earthy smell of wet mud. The Maester was explaining what transpired after you lost consciousness, but his voice drifted over you like a shadow. You heard only the rain, a steady rhythm echoing the numb emptiness consuming your heart.

“…..It was Prince Baelor’s swift thinking that preserved your life, My Lady. Had he not intervened, you surely would have perished."

Those words rang clearly in your ears

“What… what do you mean?” you turned your attention at the Maester.

"Prince Baelor correctly identified the poison, My Lady. Without his knowledge, we never could have prepared and administered the antidote in time to save you." Your brows furrowed, confusion clouded your mind. You gazed at Duncan who stood quietly by your bedside.

“Where is Baelor?”

“The King requested to see him, he should be…..”

“My love,” Baelor’s voice cut through the room as he appeared in the doorway. He crossed the chamber in a few swift long strides, settling beside you in your bed, sweeping you into the protective sanctuary of his arms. You buried your face against the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. His familiar scent washed over you, pouring a desperately needed tranquility into your aching bones.

He pulled away just enough to press a fierce, desperate kiss to your temple. But the comfort was fleeting, a dark thread of doubt twisted inside you, refusing to be silenced.

“I need to speak with you” at your whisper your husband nodded in encouragement.

“Of course, tell me” your eyes wandered towards the two other people in the chamber, understanding your hesitation, Baelor was quick to dismiss them. “Give us the room”

He scooted closer to you, taking your hands into his. Caressing your skin with his thumb. Tracing the veins in your hand.

“How did you know?”

“Know what, My Love?”

“The Maester said you knew what poison was used, How did you know?” He snapped his eyes to yours, and found them laced with suspicion.

And that shook him to the core. You softly pulled away from his touch, preparing his answer to break you, but Baelor sat silently.

"Answer me," you demanded. You steeled yourself, and he saw it…the same fierce wolf that would tear anyone else to shreds for threatening what was hers, now baring her claws at him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke the truth "It was the same poison Alyse tried to give Jena the day we were to marry. When I caught her, I banished her from ever setting foot in the Red Keep again. She obeyed my order, until my mother, unaware of her crimes, extended the invite to her”

It felt like he ripped your heart out and crushed it between his fingers.

“So you knew” the crack in your voice tore at his heart

"I swear to you, I didn't know she would—"

You cut him off. "But you knew what she was capable of, and you let her in anyway. You tolerated her into our home, let her get close to you... to me... to our baby."

Tears were flowing freely down your cheeks, the weight of his betrayal completely tearing you apart.

“Our baby, Baelor” barely a whisper from your lips, but he felt it like a slap. You bunched his doublet in your hands as you sinked into his chest, hiding yourself from the truth.

You mourn not just the baby, but the future they never had. The joy and love you did not get to experience. A profound ache for your child, your own flesh and blood.

The shame for his failure was making a home in his chest. He felt helpless, felt responsible for your pain, as tears blurred his vision

Gathering your strength a moment later, you pushed him away. Your eyes were completely hollow, drained of every last tear.

"Leave."

A single word, and the world collapsed around you both.

"Please... please, I’m sorry” Baelor choked out. He fell to his knees, begging for forgiveness, his arms winding tightly around your waist as he buried his face into your stomach. But you had no comfort left to offer him, not while you were navigating the violent storm raging inside your own mind.

"I do not want to see you. Leave!" you commanded, firmly prying his hands away before turning away from him to stare out at the window.

"My love” he pleaded one last time, but you did not falter.

"Please, just go."

Hearing those quiet, broken words, Baelor pulled himself together and stood up. He had already caused you a tremendous amount of pain, he would rather destroy himself than ever add to it. Without another word, he turned and walked out.

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The scales we hung, the breakin' of hook and chain?

What about me and my breakin'?

Aerion Targaryen x reader

Series Masterlist

“Lord Ashford has organised a tourney in honour of her Daughter’s nameday. I think the presence of the Royal house is a must. People need to see the Crown mingling with the respectable Houses of Westeros” Baelor’s voice carried itself through the room.

“Is it really necessary?” Maekar grumbled, clearly annoyed by the prospect of making the long journey.

“I wouldn’t have suggested if it wasn’t” At his reply Maekar rolled his eyes.

It was quite entertaining to see both the Prince’s exchange. You sat still, to Baelor’s right.

“And If I may speak, I think Prince Valarr, and Prince Aerion should take part in the tourney.” The Lord Commander suggested.

“Daeron too” Maekar added. Baelor turned to look at Maekar, everyone was well aware that Maekar’s eldest preferred taverns over tourneys, but his father was determined to make a man out of him. The disagreement was clear in the Crown prince’s eyes but he said nothing.

A moment later Lord Bloodraven spoke gathering everyone’s attention “Might I suggest the Princess joining you as well,” he then turned to you “Prince Aerion and you are yet to make a public appearance together. This is a good opportunity for the realm to see the union blooming”

You scoffed under your breath at the thought of the realm parading through your disastrous marriage. Yet, the Master of Whisperers was right. This was a perfect opportunity to smother the gossip suffocating the halls.

Whispers of your fracturing marriage had already leaked from the Keep, but Baelor’s focus remained entirely on you. He turned to gauge your reaction to the suggestion, his gentle gaze promising that he would never push you into something against your will.

You held his eyes for a moment, and then subtly nodded your head in agreement.

No matter what, as the princess of the realm you now had duties you needed to fulfil. Attending this tourney together with your husband was necessary to restore your family’s reputation.

“Make the preparations, we will leave as soon as we can” Baelor dismissed the council.

______________________________________

Strolling through the gardens, you inhaled the rich fragrance of blooming flowers while birds sang softly overhead. The tranquil surroundings brought a brief sense of calm, though the heavy uncertainty of what awaited in Ashford lingered in the back of your mind.

“I hope I’m not intruding” His raspy tenor reached your ears. Leaning by the pillar stood your husband. Without sparing him a glance you continued on your path.

His footsteps quickly followed you, “I have just been informed that we are to visit Ashford, and you are coming with”

“I’m aware, I was present when it was decided. If you remember, I have a seat on the council” You couldn't quite decipher the true purpose of his visit.

“Ahh yes! My Uncle’s trusted advisor” his tone was teasing but without the usual bite. He walked beside you, hands clasped behind his back. Following that tense night at the Royal dinner, Aerion had resolved to give you the space you needed.

You thought back to the tears stinging your eyes, remembered how troubled he looked when you confessed how you really felt. That expression on his face, so out of character, as if he actually cared

But then you remembered the bruises on your neck, the ghost of his hand around your throat, his rage filled eyes as he squeezed the life out of you.

“You are not obligated to follow through if you do not want to” His words pulled you from your thoughts, compelling you to finally meet his gaze for the first time since your confrontation outside the dining hall.

You halted in place and he turned smoothly to stand before you.

His silver hair shined in the sun, pale skin a stark contrast to the red doublet. His blue eyes gleaming like the ocean under sunlight. The blood of old Valyria was written plainly across his features.

“I agreed, on my own accord” Your answer left him momentarily speechless. He held your gaze a beat too long, hunting for a lie, but came up empty. He nodded slowly “Okay.”

Giving you a last look he turned around to leave, His departure was as abrupt as his arrival.

______________________________________

The travel to ashford was proving more trouble than worth, the roads were damp and unforgiving. A small entourage left kings landing. Prince Baelor, and his first born Valarr. Prince Maekar was accompanied by His eldest Daeron, your husband and little Aegon.

Two recently appointed handmaidens accompanied you in the carriage, who for some reason could not stop gushing over your husband, utterly mesmerized and practically falling over themselves to praise his beauty.

Lost in the legendary history of Targaryen dragons, you held your book tightly, trying to drown out the voices around you

“How is he, my lady. I’ve heard he is quite the warrior taking after his father” an exasperate sigh left your lips,but you still answered there question

“He is a good swordsman but he prefers a mace” you purposefully did not look up at them while speaking, your voice disinterested. You wanted their incessant discussion about your husband to cease

“He is named Brightflame, Kiera. They say the blood of the dragon runs through him” you rolled your eyes at their remark

Each time they would catch a glimpse of him through the carriage window they would start giggling among themselves.

Irritated beyond patience, you spoke up “If you mind, I’m trying to read”

“Of course, my lady. Forgive us” they shifted awkwardly in their seats. And for the time being you had peace.

But unfortunately for you, it did not last long.

They huddled close, exchanging conversation in breathless whispers as to not interrupt your reading, yet their words remained audible to you.

“Look at his silver hair, Elma. I wonder if it is as silver as his head down there”

And you had enough, “Stop the carriage” You banged your fist rapidly on the wall of the wooden carriage

As the wheelhouse rolled to a stop, you gave the handmaidens a murderous look. A moment later Ser Donnel of Duskendale appeared in the carriage door.

“Is everything alright, my lady?”Concern was clear in his eyes. Your handmaidens sat silent, cowering at your sudden outburst.

You rose and made your way down from the wheelhouse, Ser Donnel stepping aside to clear your path. As you emerged into the open air, the eyes of the entire caravan turned to you. A heavy tension hung in the atmosphere as they waited impatiently to learn what had caused the delay.

“I wish to ride on a horseback”

“My lady, the roads are unforgiving. The carriage will be more suitable for you. You will be comfortable in there” the Kingsguard’s reasoning fell on deaf ears. Ignoring him you turned to Aerion, who had unmounted his horse and was making his way to you.

“What is the matter?” his eyes bore into yours. Ser Donnel quietly stepped back to give you both Privacy.

“I want to ride on a horseback. The Carriage is too…stuffed” Aerion just looked at you. You could not decipher what he was thinking but you did not falter your gaze

“You’re are not wearing any proper riding leathers, this dress is not going to agree with you on a horse”

“I’ll ride on a horseback or I’ll walk” you challenged him. A quiet fury simmered beneath his skin, betrayed only by how his eyes locked onto yours and narrowed.

Prince Baelor who had rode his Black mare away from the front, towards you and spoke up assessing the situation “Ser Donnel, ask Aegon to ride in the carriage, she will take his horse”. Aerion turned to look at his uncle annoyed at his interference “At once, My Prince.”

You shot your husband a sly smirk just as the stunning brown stallion was presented to you. You tried mounting the horse on your own but your attempts were futile as your heavy velvet gown weighed you down, making it nearly impossible.

Your knuckles strained as you gripped the reins with all your might, ready to try again but Suddenly you felt someone’s sturdy chest make contact with your shoulder blade as a pair of hands wrapped around your waist.

“On my count” your husband’s breath moved the stray hairs at the nape of your neck. The warmth of his hands surprisingly passed through the thick fabric of your gown.

“One , two , three “ with the help of a powerful jump from you, Aerion lifted you off the ground but the constricting lining of your gown got caught on the saddle making you slip sideways

You gasped but Aerion tightened his grip on you, catching your full weight against his torso. His arms anchored you as your back was pressed flush against his chest. You felt his heartbeat pattering against you.

“I have you” his voice a rough whisper. You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes fell on his lips as he spoke again “Swing your leg” using the mane as a leverage you swung your right leg over the stallion’s back settling into the saddle.

Aerion did not step back immediately, instead he reached up to untangle your gown that was bunched up beneath your thigh, pinning your leg uncomfortably. His knuckles brushed up against the sensitive skin of your calf as he tugged the hem, pulling at the weighted fabric, so that it lay flat over the leather of the saddle making it pool around you comfortably

The casual intimacy of the gesture was making you dizzy. Looking up, he offered a wordless nod of reassurance, and you answered with a grateful nod of your own.

Baelor kept his eyes on you both from the side, silent and observant. The sudden shift in his nephew’s behaviour towards you did not leave his notice.

You looked over to meet Baelor’s eyes and Aerion followed your line of sight and turned, the crown prince shifted his eyes from you to your husband.

Unbeknown to you, a wordless exchange took place between them. Soon after Aerion walked away, swiftly mounting his own horse, trotting forward.

With one last look towards you, Prince Baelor urge his mount ahead with a firm press of his thighs and led the way as the caravan quickly fell into line behind him ,you were quick to fall in.

______________________________________

With nightfall closing in, your entourage finally raised your tents for a hard earned rest. It had been a punishing journey with few halts, a necessary sacrifice to ensure the caravan reached Ashford before the tourney began.

After supper, you retreated to your tent and ordered your handmaiden to prepare a hot bath, desperate to soothe the burning ache in your thighs from the ride. Your stubbornness had come at a high price, making you winch in pain at every step.

The hot water calmed the ache a bit but you still felt sore. Sitting on the makeshift bed you continued reading under the candlelight, finding solace in the ink.

“My lady, Prince Baelor is here to see you” the guard that was stationed outside your tent called out.

Leaving your bed, you quickly pulled a robe over your nightshift. “Let him in”

A moment later Baelor moved inside your tent, his blue and brown eyes fixed themselves on you.

“Forgive me, for visiting at this hour. The journey till now has been exhausting and I’m sure riding on a horseback wearing a velvet gown must have been quite the experience.”

“Not my brightest moment, I agree” he chuckled and you smile embarrassingly.

“Here” He offered you a glass bowl that you hadn't noticed him holding until now. “It is a salve, it will soothe the soreness, help with the pain in your thighs”

“How did you know?” You softly took the bowl from his hands and looked at it in wonder.

“Because I have similar pain in mine” your eyes were quick to find his and after a moment of silence you both shared a laugh.

His gaze then shifted on the book that was left open on the covers. He moved to reach it, turning it around to read the cover.

“I see the you have taken to know more about the Targaryen lineage” his fingers danced on the beautiful painting of Balerion the black dread.

“It is fascinating to read about these magnificent creatures and the riders who bonded with them” you saw Baelor nod in agreement. Distant in his thoughts.

His eyes glazed over as memories consumed him, but moments later, he spoke again.

“When I was just a babe, a dragon egg was placed in my cradle. Its shell was as black as obsidian. For ten years, I nurtured it by the fire, desperate for it to hatch. Without Valyrian features or silver hair, I was an outsider in my own family, bearing my mother’s Dornish looks instead. I thought a dragon would be a proof of my blood, silencing the realm's judgement but It never did."

And for a moment who stood before you was no Prince of the realm, nor the future King or the hand. In that fleeting second, all you saw was a boy, consumed by the ghost of a dragon that was destined to be his, yet remained out of reach

“Dragons were extinct for centuries but I carried this foolish hope that my egg would split open and bring back the fire we lost, a symbol of my blood, but now all that remains of them hangs on the walls of the great hall in the keep”

Watching him unravel hurt. The crown prince that was always defined by his composure, now breaking apart before your eyes. Impulsively, you rested a hand on his shoulder, offering whatever quiet comfort you could to ease his pain.

He turned to you at your touch “The fire that you so desperately searched for in this world, runs through you.“ his glassy eyes moved between yours as the words you just spoke stunned him.

He let out a ragged breath, eyes still on you ,finally feeling his lungs expand for the first time in ages.

At the sudden rustle of the tent entrance, you both spun around. Baelor immediately stepped in front of you, shielding you from the intruder.

Aerion strutted inside confidently, but his gaze narrowed as he took in the two of you. He hadn't expected Baelor to be here. A flare of jealousy spiked in his chest, though he instantly hid it behind a mocking smirk

“Uncle” his tone dangerously low, as it rumbled through his chest. “Aerion” even at your voice his eyes stayed locked in on the crown prince.

They squared their shoulders, the air between them was thick with unspoken tension. With a sigh you braced yourself for whatever was to come.

⟡°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⟡

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You collapsed in the training ground and every illusion of happiness shattered.

Baelor Targaryen x Stark!reader

Series Masterlist

The scream that left Duncan’s chest in torment, caught your guard’s attention. Ser Donnel hastily ran towards the scene. Frantic eyes moved from your unconscious form to Ser Duncan terrified expression. “Princess?” Dunk called out to you

Evaluating the situation Ser Donnel informed the knight “Maester, she needs a Maester” As if getting out of the haze, Dunk quickly gathered you in his arms and shot up to get you help with Ser Donnel in tow.

Dunk’s blood ran cold the moment your knees gave out, and since then there was this weird cage around his lungs that was restricting him from breathing properly.

The hurriedness of his footsteps echoed the hallways, he was mortified by the dead weight of you in his arms. Your face was a crimson mask, as if you’d just stepped off a brutal battlefield .His thoughts were jumbled, but one truth rang loud and clear… death was not allowed to take you.

His chest was heaving with adrenaline, as he made his way towards the Maester’s office. He used his broad shoulders to push open the door, inside the Maester startled by the sudden intrusion stood up from his desk. Eyes wide as he looked at the Knight and your unconscious being.

“What happened?” Maester Orwell at the red keep was an old wrinkly man, with years of experience past him. He quickly made his way closer, and when he saw the extend of damage, his eyes widen “Oh sevens above, quick place her on the bed”

“Where is the Grand Maester?”. Ser Donnel’s question was met with silence. With hurried fingers, the Maester took your vitals, and all Dunk could do was stand by the corner, helpless, looking at your form. He trembled from head to toe, completely undone by fear. While you lay terrifyingly still.

You were slipping away, and his only lifeline was the fragile rise and fall of your chest, tethering him to reality,

And he was terrified to blink

“Go fetch Maester Malleon, now. He is in the council room, Go quickly” Maester Orwell pushed Ser Donnel out of the office.

______________________________________

“I’ll get the approval signed by the King and have the scroll ready for the shipment by tomorrow” Baelor declared to the council members.

“Anything else?” The prince looked around the room.

“My Prince, this morrow I receive a raven from North. Lord Barthogan Stark and his men are making their way to king’s landing. The Warden of the North misses his daughter and longs to see her” Grand Maester Malleon informed him.

Baelor’s heart warmed at the thought of you finally reuniting with your father after so long.

“How long till they reach?” He enquired. “The raven just came in today, so by my calculation they must have entered the Riverlands. 10 to 12 days, give or take”

“Please refrain from informing the princess, I want her father’s visit to be a surprise. She will be delighted”

“As you wish, my prin——“ the door to the council room slammed hard. The vibration was felt through the room.

Prince Maekar took his guard quickly, hand finding the hilt of his dagger. His shoulders eased a little at the sight of their Kingsguard.

“What is the meaning of this” his gruff voice rang out through the room.

Ser Donnel was out of breath, a little panic and seeing his state, Baelor stood up from his chair in confusion.

“Ser Donnel?”

“My prince, Lady Stark…she’s unresponsive, bleeding ——“

The dread that consumed Baelor’s body hollowed out his chest, “Where is she?”

“Maester’s office, ” that was enough for Baelor to take off sprinting, trying to reach you.

He felt as though his very soul was trying to outrun his body to get to you. His feet moving fast, but not fast enough.Every passing second made his heart knot tighter. He felt his lungs bleeding, his heart hammering out his chest.

He stumbled and slipped around every corner, but his mind remained entirely consumed by you.

You needed him, and nothing on earth would stop him from reaching your side.

The door to Maester’s office was already open, as soon as he passed the threshold, he was stunned at the sight of you. His feet coming to a halt.

You, his love, his wolf ,on the bed, lying devastatingly still. Every ounce of color had drained from your skin, leaving it ashen and cold. A thin ribbon of blood seeped from your mouth, your usually pink lips painted a stark, haunting blue. A terrifying thought anchored itself in his chest…you looked completely lifeless.

“No!” The cry that tore from his chest rattled the quiet room. Sliding forward on his knees, he crashed to your side. His shaking hands delicately cradled your face, gently nudging you “Wake up, my love” but your eyes remained closed. One thing he was quick to notice was that your skin was startlingly cold, and a faint pulse under his palm

Duncan’s heart clenched at the sight of the him. The Crown Prince who was usually a symbol of poise and composer was no longer a prince, but a husband drowning, reduced to a man fraying at the seams looking at his dying wife.

“It’s poison, your grace. She has been poisoned.”

“Poison?” Baelor was confused.

“A potent one, maybe in something she consumed” Maester Orwell explained. Maester Malleon entered the room and started examining you. The terror that graced his face, was enough for everyone in the room to go quiet.

“We need to act quick, we are loosing her” the grand maester exclaimed. He started crushing leaves and herbs in a pestle and mortal. “Rub her hands and feet, quick,” at his instruction Dunk fell forward and started removing your boots, loosening the same laces that he tied minutes ago in the yard.

Baelor used his calloused hands to hold yours, trying desperately to breathe some of his warmth into you. His eyes did not move from your form, possessive in his hold on you as if he could tether you to the land of living by sheer will.

“Have you identified what poison was used?” the grand maester turned to his pupil. “It is hard to tell__”

Baelor replayed the tragedy endlessly, consumed by a bitter truth, you were under his care, yet someone still dared to harm you. Who could do such a thing? And why?And how, above all, had he failed to protect you?

“Why did you not write to me”

“You loved me once”

Alyse

“Long farewell” Baelor’s voice tore through the chaos in the room.

“My Prince?” the Grand Maester looked at him with furrowed brows urging him to speak more clearly

“The poison used, it’s Long farewell. Prepare the antidote” Baelor inhaled deeply, trying to smother the rage that burned through his veins.

Alyse had just sealed her own fate. By targeting his wife, she had tried to cut his lifeline and rip his world apart. He should have turned her in ages ago. Instead, his hesitation was about to cost him everything.

“Are you sure, your grace” the Maester’s question angered him. There was no time, every second wasted was pushing you towards the eminent loss and he was not going to let that happen.

Maekar watched his brother's eyes darken with the same murderous rage he had witnessed on the blood soaked plains of the Redgrass Field. Before his brother could speak, Maekar placed a calming hand on the crown prince's shoulder.

“He is, prepare the antidote, now”

Even after the antidote was administered, your condition showed no sign of improvement. You laid there still and lifeless. Dunk sat near your feet, rubbing them to stir some warmth into your cold limbs, while Baelor kept your head in his lap, tenderly petting your hair, using his body heat to warm you up.

Maekar silently tended the hearth. With nothing left to do but wait, they all prayed with everything they had that the antidote would work.

Baelor kept whispering softly, over and over, "You cannot leave me, I will not survive it, Please, please my love" He was begging you, pleading not to be condemned to a life without you.

Praying to all the gods above to spare you, to not punish you for his sins.

It was nightfall now, the Maester checked your pulse and informed your husband. “Her heartbeat is getting stronger, her skin is warm to touch” The colour on your skin was slowing returning.

“Is she out of danger?” Baelor looked up with hopeful eyes. “We need to wait for her to wake up”

One by one everyone left the room, Ser Duncan stood guard outside the door, reluctant to leave. Maekar had never seen his brother so utterly broken, not even in the wake of Jena’s death. He wasn't sure any power on earth could mend him if the breath were to leave your body.

He gazed down at his brother, who was gently tracing your cheek with his thumb, desperately waiting for your eyes to flutter open.

“Alyse” the venom was clear in his voice, as he spoke his ex lover’s name

“What?” Maekar was confused at the mention of the Dornish woman

Baelor looked up at him “Alyse…She is behind this, she poisoned her”.

“I fucking knew it, that wretched bitch is a snake” Maekar grumbled under his breath.

Baelor gripped his brother’s forearm “You find her and you bring her to me, you hear…I want her head.” His whole body was vibrating with rage.

“Do not fret, brother. She will pay for this, even if I have to drag her across the sands of Dorne to do so.” Maekar gently touched his older brother’s shoulder.

The madness of grief and rage was plain to see. The relentless anxiety had carved itself deep into Baelor’s face. A mere 12 hours had stolen ten years of his youth. A man hollowed out by a single, agonizing question…whether or not his wife would survive the night.

“You need to rest”

“No, I’m not going anywhere” he recoiled, twisting his shoulder out of his reach. “Brother, you heard the Maesters, she needs rest and so do you. Worrying yourself sick is not going to help her. Save your strength. She will need you at your best when she wakes.”

“I’m not leaving her”

“Stay here with her if you want, but atleast lay down on the cot, please” Gently supporting your head off his lap he moved to laying you onto the mattress, fluffing your pillow to ensure you were resting comfortably. Baelor straightened, and then kneeled beside your bed bringing his head down to press his forehead against yours.

"Come back to me,"

he begged, a lone tear slipping from his eye to trace a path down your cheek. Finally, he brushed his lips against your temple, whispering into your hair,

"for I will surely perish without you."

After Baelor finally drifted off on the cot beside your bed, arm extended, his hand still clasped tightly around yours as he refused to let go, Maekar quietly left the room in search of Ser Duncan. Outside the door, Duncan was crouched against the wall, but he rose to attention the moment Maekar appeared.

“You were the one who brought Lady Stark here?” Maekar was furious, this attack on you, was an attack on the House Targaryen.

“I did, My Prince” Ser Duncan voice was hoarse from all the use. His already husky voice was breaking at the seams.

“Tell me exactly what happened”

“I’m not sure my prince, One minute we were talking and the next she started bleeding from her nose and just collapsed. I brought her here as quick as I could” the frantic look in The Knight’s eyes was enough tell that this attempt on your life has shook him to the core.

The white of his cloak was laced with blood, your blood. A terrifying reminder to every one of the tragedy.

“You did good, Ser Duncan. The Stranger might spare Lady Stark’s life because of you” Maekar assured him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder to soothe him a bit.

“Stand guard, Protect them with your life. No one except the Maesters are permitted in. I’m not sure if this castle is secure anymore”

“Of course, my prince” the tall knight stood a bit straighter now, shoulders squared. Nothing will touch you anymore, not under his watch.

By dusk, The City watch turned the red keep upside down to hunt Alyse Manwoody on Prince Maekar’s order. Every ship set to sail from the Red port was halted. Your maids were investigated about every little thing that was brought in and out of your chambers.

Aileen, your devoted maid, recalled a mysterious new helper who served you on the day you collapsed. It didn't take long for the them to track her down aboard a ship that was ready to sail for the free cities.

Alyse Manwoody was still in the wind, her whereabouts unknown.

Baelor woke the moment your fingers twitched in his. He found you whimpering in pain, struggling to blink your eyes open. Your cheeks were sunken, the poison had taken a heavy toll but at last, you were awake. Shooting up from his cot, Baelor knelt beside your head and gently smoothed your hair.

“Baelor?” A sigh left him, it was as if he could breathe again. The sound of your voice brought him a wave of overjoyed relief. Though your vision was blurred, you knew his touch instantly and leaned into his embrace. The crown prince thanked the old gods and new for sparing you.

“Yes, my love. I’m right here” He caught your fingers as they fluttered in the air, finding them as you blindly searched for him, and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

“It hurts, and I….I can’t see” your hand braced itself onto your stomach, clutching in pain, you whimpered

“What does?” He moved his eyes to your hand that was holding your belly and placed a his palm over yours to comfort you.

A continuous whimper escaped your lips. The pain was sharp and searing, stealing the breath straight out of you.

“Wait right here, I’ll get the Maesters”

Quick on his feet, he scrambled out the room. Hearing the door open and seeing the relieve look on The Prince, Ser Duncan looked at him in anticipation.

“She’s awake”

Those two words and Dunk felt whole again.

“She’s okay?” He question the prince “In pain but she’s okay” Baelor nodded with a smile gracing his lips.

Saying it out loud, Baelor finally felt the heavy weight lift from his chest. His wolf, was going to be okay. But their shared relief was instantly shattered by a blood curdling scream echoing from your office.

They re-entered the room in a flash, Ser Duncan's sword already drawn and poised for a strike. The sight that met them instantly stole the air from their lungs.

You sat hunched over the mattress, paralyzed with terror, watching a widening pool of blood soak into the sheets beneath you.

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Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

They look for somethin' to be done for those that are most in pain

What about me and my aching?

Aerion Targaryen x reader

Series Masterlist

“You are clever” Maekar walked with you out the council hall, hands tied behind his back. Traces of red adorned the black doublet on his broad shoulders, echoing his royal station.

“One has to be if they are to survive in a man’s world” you walked with your head held high. “Baelor trusts you, I on the other hand had my doubts if you were suited for the role” you looked up at him, his profile was sharp, fierce.

“Prince Baelor has entrusted me with this duty. I answer to no other authority on this matter” You did not notice the faint, approving smile that touched his lips, quietly proud of your unwavering resolve even in his presence.

His gaze drifted to your neck, where the bruises that once marked your skin had completely vanished, leaving no trace they had ever existed. "And my son," he asked, "how has he been?"

“I scarcely see him” your tone was indifferent. It was clear how your mood had turned soar at the mention of your husband. Maekar’s voice soften a fraction “He crossed a line, and his temper is notoriously explosive, it’s true, but that cruelty doesn't define the entirety of who he is”

“He almost choked me to death, you saw the bruises, did you not?”

“It will not happen again” Maekar tried assuring you. “He feels remorse, even if he struggles to show it” that made you scoff. It was infuriating you how the Prince was speaking for his son, trying to right his wrongdoing.

Hearing enough, you hastily turned towards him, “If I may, my Prince, I would like to take my leave” you bowed your head, and swiftly turned to the hallway, escaping the Prince’s piercing presence.

With a cruel twist of irony, you found yourself on the balcony, that overlooked the training yard . In the yard below, your husband sparred in light armour. Steel rang out with every clash, sending sharp echoes through the air as the flashing blades caught your eye.

The way Aerion carried himself was mesmerising. Every move was swift , sharp and precise. It was quite clear that he was a competent fighter. The fight concluded in a heartbeat, a flick of the wrist and Aerion saw his sword hovering menacingly, halting just before it could break the skin of his opponent's neck.

As praises filled the air, he headed to the washstand and began shedding his armor, his squire working quickly to help him. His pale skin glimmered with sweat and grim as he moved to shed the chain mail that he always wore underneath his doublet.

Your eyes roamed his form. Muscles rippled across his well defined back with every movement as he splashed water on his face, trying to cool the heat radiating through him. No matter how hard you tried to move,it was as if your feet were sunk deep in place.

While washing himself, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, the presence of someone’s gaze felt heavy on his skin, he halted his moments to swing his head swiftly towards the balcony, and you acting on instinct, pivoted behind the pillar just in time to escape his sight.

The breath got stuck in you lungs, the prospect to almost getting caught ogling had your heart running races. The heat of your own skin had you fidgeting. Resting your head back against the stone wall you inhaled deeply trying to control your erratic heartbeat.

Gathering the remnants of your composure, you retreated towards your chambers, yet a searing, phantom heat lingered just beneath your skin.

_____________________________________________

The king’s demand for a family dinner filled you with absolute dread. It was the last thing you wanted, especially since he was completely unaware of the deep fractures in your marriage.

Wishing to spare his father the anxieties of his twilight years, the Hand ordered that the matter remain concealed, loath to add another ounce of worry to the heavy load his father already bore for the realm.

So your maids dressed you up in Targaryen colours. Adorned in red rubies, the off the shoulder neckline highlighted your collarbone, creating a majestic silhouette. Your hair was elegantly pulled back, in a half braid letting the rest flow down your back.

As you approached the dining hall, your eyes found him. Aerion stood waiting, impeccably dressed with the familiar weight of his trusted dagger at his side. At your presence he straighten up, shoulders squaring as he moved, stopping just an inch from you.

Recently, he had taken to invading your personal space, utterly disregarding your boundaries. “Wife” He offered his arm for you to take, but you merely stared at it in disgust. “I have clear orders from my father to avoid a scene, and I fully intend to comply, if…my hand is not forced”

Arm still extended towards you, he waited. Your mind was flooded with a million thoughts, and surprisingly they all ended in his murder, But all you could do was huff in annoyance. Reluctantly you coiled your fingers around his bicep, muscles contracting under your touch. He looked at you with sly smirk on his lips.

He lead you into the hall, Baelor and Markar were already present, Valarr, Baelor’s son was seated beside his Father. Daeron, Maekar’s first born sat at the end, his half lidded eyes were a testament that the man was already drunk.

Aerion, playing his part to the mark, pulled your chair for you. The sickeningly sweet smile you gave him made him chuckle a bit as you sat down. He then took his seat beside you.

Silence and respect filled the hall as the King Daeron and Queen Myriah entered. A distinct aura surrounded them. The King led his wife with a gentle, protective hand on her back, and the radiant look she gave him was deeply moving.

Though theirs had been a marriage of political convenience, the passing years had forged a true bond. Looking at them now, it was clear how enamoured they truly were with each other. The love shared between them pulled on your heart

As everyone took their seats, the rich aroma of incoming dishes filled the air, accompanied by the rising hum of chatter. All of it overwhelmed you completely. Your stomach turned, any trace of hunger completely gone. You despised every second of it, trapped in a room full of people, yet completely isolated while the royals shared their private world

Baelor’s eyes kept drifting back to you in concern. He could clearly see the foul expression you tried hiding.

“Eat” you were startled out of your thoughts when Aerion lowly whispered in your ear, nudging your plate towards you. “I’m not hungry” you said distantly, having no desire to indulge.

“The pork is made with honey glaze and saffron, you will like it…Just try” He hummed loudly over his bite, performing like a parent coaxing a toddler to eat.

“Drop the act” you whispered under your breath, his attempt at the insolent act of care was infuriating you.

“I saw you,” you felt his gaze on you. “On the balcony. You were quick to hide but not quick enough” the smug look that was just so Aerion was back on his face. “Impressed by the view?”

Without looking down you slammed your fork on his plate empaling the pork. The ring of it silenced the table a little but your eyes never left his, piercing through his soul in a warning.

And all he did was flash that idiotic grin at you.

Your chair screeched against the floor as you stood, abandoning your seat without a word. The sheer audacity of him sitting there,pretending everything was fine, pretending to care after laying his hands on you, made your blood boil too much to stay.

Heavy footsteps dogged your retreat from the dining hall. Every detail of him, his casual demeanor, his face, the entire sickening charade, burned a fire in your chest.

Sudden fingers clamped around your wrist, jerking you to a halt. You spun around to confront the intruder, only to meet your husband’s gaze. The playful mischief was gone, replaced by an icy, unyielding sternness.

“Come back inside” his voice calculated as you chest heaved with pacing breaths

“Unhand me” your demand only made him tighten his grip. You twisted your hand in his grip but your attempts to pull it free were in vain.

“Unhand me, NOW” he did as you asked, while grinding his teeth together in fury. You stumbled back a bit. “I will not ask again, Come inside” An icy shudder ran through you as his voice seemed to engulf the room. Refusing to show weakness, you held your head high and dared him

“Or what? You gonna fucking choke me again?” He went rigid, plagued by the memory of his fingers closing around your throat. He was still haunted by the look of fear in your eyes. But that secret remained hidden from you.

“It won’t happen aga-“

“Everyone keeps saying that” you cried out.

“You struck me, and all I saw was red. Do not mistake my silence for a lack of regret” His voice softened, barely a whisper, as if revealing a secret. You recognized the guilt in his gaze, but regret cannot rebuild what has been broken.“I will never hurt you again, you have my word” You wanted to believe the honesty in his voice, yet you knew the ease with which people could shatter a fragile heart.

“Your word means nothing to me,” tears welled up in your eyes as you spat out the words “Your cloak was meant to shield me, your vows before the Seven meant to guard me. Instead, you used your hands to hurt me. And now I see, I never needed protection from the world…only from you”

Separated by mere inches, Aerion could see your agony clearly. A lone tear spilled down your cheek, and his eyes followed, fingers twitched with the urge to wipe it away.

But his hands stayed at his sides as he watched you disappear into the distance, paralyzed by the memory of the night he ruined it all.

_____________________________________________

“My princess, I was asked to bring you supper” a maid entered your chambers carrying a tray. You pulled at the loose threads of your robe, sitting by the fireplace captivated by the flame. “Take it back, I’m full”

“You scarcely ate anything”You jolted toward the sound, utterly unaware he had been standing there. Prince Baelor stood leaning against your doorframe. His eyes solely focused on you, as he dismissing the maid with a careless flick of his fingers.

“Eat something, you shouldn’t starve yourself” he placed the plate in front of you and moved to pour wine in your goblet

The plate radiated a comforting warmth, filling the room with the appeasing scent of saffron, instantly reviving an appetite you thought you’d lost as you finally indulged.

Baelor sat opposite to you, munching on grapes. An amused smile tugged at his lips as he watched you devour the pork.

You were eating like a beast starved for weeks. Looking up, you caught him smiling at your frantic pace, and a sudden flush of shame brought your manners rushing back as you slowed your hand. “Sorry, but it’s delicious”

“I’m glad it is to your liking” a comforting silence took over your room. He stood up to tend to the hearth, flames danced upward with a sharp crackle as he stoked the rising fire with more wood.

“Are you displeased with me, for the way I left at the supper?” Hesitant in your question, you kept you gaze fixed on your plate. He rose up dusting his hands of splinters, “No, I’m sure you had your reasons”.

His answer reassured you, easing your anxiety as you returned to your meal feeling lighter.

After feeling full you leaned back, a satisfied sigh left your lips. Baelor moved to collect your plate but you stopped him, “You’ve done more than enough. I can take the tray back to the kitchens”

Baelor softly took the plate from your hand “You should get some rest, we have a council meeting tomorrow. I can return this” You helped him collect the cutlery on the tray.

As he neared the door, your quiet “Thank you” caught his attention. He turned, a different gentleness graced his eyes. “Sleep well”

As the door closed behind him, you thought back to the evening. Your confrontation with Aerion, The facade you had to carry at dinner and Prince Baelor… the scent of saffron and peace of his presence still lingered in the room.He brought you more than just food, he brought a shred of comfort to your miserable night.

With that thought in mind, you closed your eyes, basking the saffron in the air as sleep took you in.

⟡°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⟡

Next chapter

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The calm before the storm

Baelor Targaryen x Stark!reader

Series Masterlist

The next morrow, when the husk of dawn swept through the windows of your chambers, a yawn passed your lips as you stretched your limps, fighting the heaviness of your slumber. A weighted hand on around your waist and a soft puffs of breath closer to your ear, made you aware of the presence behind you.

You turned around to indulge in the sight of your husband, he used his arm to leverage you taut against his chest, eyes still closed as you both savoured each other’s vulnerable state.

Your eyes roamed his sleepy form, the way his brows were at ease, the pull that usually marked between no where to be seen. His eyelid hiding his beautiful mismatched eyes underneath. Thick lashes fluttering on his cheeks. His lips blowing soft breathes of air that settled around you. He looked youthful like this, without the heavy weight of realm on his shoulders. You were content, just laying there, admiring him.

“It is rude to stare” eyes still closed, a chuckle left your lips at his retort.

“I am simply admiring” you hummed leaning to place a quick peck on his lips that curled into a smile at your touch.

He blinked his eyes open “Good morrow” his voice was husky, deep and heavy with sleep.

“It certainly is” he started tracing your skin with soft kisses. “I’m surprised to find you here, I reckoned you would be up and away, attending one of your meetings” he trailed his fingers on the curve of your face, delicately as he tried savouring the sight.

“And miss out on this?, never” he brought his lips to yours, drowning the laughter that left you.

The slowness of it all made your heart bloom, you and him tangled in the sheets, sweet kisses and nothing whispered in between. Your hand on his chest while his created a path over your curves. All of it was heavenly. But albeit it all had to end, as a series of knocks on your door echoed your chambers

“My prince, the king has demanded your presence in the council hall” the sigh that left Baelor’s chest made you giggle. “The realm needs you my Prince” you teased him as you playfully nipped the finger that was in its pursuit to trace every inch of your face.

“The realm can wait”

“My Prince?” The voice called out again and he huffed

You kissed his crown as he buried his face in the crock of you neck, wanting the world to just disappear. You let him melt in you for a brief moment. “It is not wise to keep The King waiting” your voice barely a whisper in his ear as you untangled your limbs from his, letting him get off the bed.

As soon as he was up, he made his way to your side of the bed and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your head “Sleep, it is still early”

You hummed getting comfortable as he pulled the sheets over your naked body. “I’ll find you as soon as I’m done” he delicately caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers and the words escaped him like it’s the truest thing he has every known, “I love you”

You turned your head leaning into his touch as you placed your lips in a gentle kiss on his fingers, “I love you more” your eyes drooped and slumber lulled you in.

____________________________________________

“The bath is ready, my princess, as you requested”

“Thank you, Aileen, you may leave now” you climbed into the bathtub, the water was perfect temperature, not too scalding, nor lukewarm, just right, relaxing your muscles as you sank in deeper. The water smelled of lavender and lemon.

Yesterday’s memories burned bright, specifically the feeling of Baelor’s arms around you and his whispered confessions of love. His presence beside you makes you feel complete, and you know you will hunger for those words forever.

Your bliss was short lived as a hurried knocks disturbed you. “Your grace?” A timid voice echoed through the door.

“Come in” A shy young girl walked in, carrying a full tray of food, too big for her, lined with various cakes, fresh fruits, and a kettle with steam coming off the top. “Prince Baelor asked for your breakfast to be brought to your room”

Always of thoughtful and attentive, distance did not stop him from taking care of you. You smiled to your self. The bath water was now cold and murky, so you climbed out and wrapped a silk robe around your bare body.

As the girl moved to set the tray, you took a good look at her. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't place her. You quickly reached the conclusion that you have never seen her around the keep

“Are you new here? I have never seen you before” you enquired, it was usually Aileen who looked after you. “I am. I just joined yesterday, your grace” the girl quickly explained

“My lady or Princess, address me as such. Only the King and the Queen are to be addressed as ‘your grace’ “

“F-forgive me, my lady” the girl stammered out apologies as she quickly bowed her head.

“Do not fret, no harm was done” you smiled sympathetically to ease her nerves. “What is your name?”

“Serra, my lady” she smiled with her teeth, the sweetness that oozed out of her was intense, as if designed to hide something

“I’ve never heard that name before” you wondered if you have ever known another of her name

“I am from the free cities”

“Oh, you are far from home” you smiled at her

“So are you” her voice dropped half a tone, as if she knew something you did not. The change was subtle but you noticed. the timidness in her demeanour, long gone. Your brows creased together as you analysed her, looking for gaps.

“Shall I pour you a cup my lady?, the tea is freshly brewed” she asked, already holding the kettle in her hand.

“Yes, thank you” you tried easing your mind, maybe you were reading too much into it , trying to find discrepancy where there was none.

She placed the cup in front of you, as you situated yourself at the small table that gave you the breathtaking view of the blue sea. The activities of last night and the late morning had you starving. So you indulged freely, eating to your heart’s desire , breakfast that your love thoughtfully arranged for you.

______________________________________

After breakfast, you left your chambers to take a stroll, the air was windy and cool. The training yard below was echoing with sound of steel clashing steel. The master at arms, Ser Aron was sparing with Ser Duncan, all while little Aegon was struggling with his archery practice.

Every time he would release an arrow it would soar past his target board, and at every fail attempted, frustrated huffs left his lips. But still like clock work he tried again. It was endearing how dedicated he was to learn.

You quickly made your way into the yard, keen on helping Maekar’s youngest with his technique. By the time you reached him, he already had already drawn another arrow

“Keep you eyes open, both of them” your voice startled him, you placed your hand on his shoulder to stop him from turning to you. Gently shifting his stance, you leaned in to see his line of sight. “Focus, eyes on your target and release”

He did as you told, and this time the arrow pierced the outer ring of the target. “Yes” Aegon jumped in glee, turning to you he wrapped his little arms around your waist in a hug. A giggle left you, at his joyful laughter.

“Teach me please, I’ve never hit the board before. Please, please, please” he jumped up and down begging you. His pleading expression melt your heart “Of course, I will” you ruffled his silver hair while he smiled up at you.

“Ser Duncan, I hit the board” Aegon sprinted to the knight, wanting to share his achievement with his friend. You haven’t talked to the Your old friend, for quite sometime now. “Well done, Egg” Duncan patted his back proudly.

The tall knight then looked up at you and then bowed his head in greeting “My lady”

“Ser Duncan” You picked up a bow that was set on the table lined with various weapons.

You turned your attention to Aegon again selecting an arrow from the quiver. “You want to see a trick?”

Yes!" You quickly found your stance and nocked the arrow onto the string. You drew back until the bowstring pressed firmly under your chin, aligning your gaze with the shaft already buried in the target board. Exhaling slowly to steady your hands, you slipped your fingers off the string.

The arrow whirred downrange and slammed into its target, shattering Aegon’s arrow right down the middle. “how did you do that?” Aerion look up at you in astonishment, Even Ser Ducan was speechless, clearly impressed with your skills. “Practice and Patience” you handed him the bow “Steady progress is guaranteed if you committed to the craft, I’m sure you’ll hit the bullseye in no time”.

You felt Duncan’s stare on you, the air was awkward, but he made no moves to escape your presence, which stunned you. By the six-minute mark, he would typically find a reason to leave, relentless in his pursuit of an exit. But not today. “You have history lessons with septa” his voice was strained against his chest, the same heavy and rough, as he informed Aegon.

His eyes kept drifting back to you, as if looking away for more than ten seconds might cause you to vanish

“Oh yes, I should go, don’t want to be late” Aegon was unfazed by the air around you both, He quickly brought his arms around you, hugging you with all his might,”Bye, my lady. Bye Ser Duncan” and sprinted off for his lessons.

You watched him go as Duncan moved closer beside you. His looming figure unmissable. You drew a sharp breath, as he spoke. “That was a brilliant shot” kicking the ground with his boot.

“Thank you” your reply was curt and short, you hated the shift in your dynamics ,the ease of your past companionship was gone, replaced by a strained atmosphere.

Glancing down, his eyes caught your boot, the laces were loose . With instinctive grace, he knelt before you, his fingers itching forward to tighten them. The sudden movement startled you, making you take a step back.

Still on his knees he looked up at you “Your bootlace is undone” his blue eyes shone in the sunlight. You looked at him in disbelief, the casual ease of the moment took you by surprise.

“May I?” And that was enough for you to extend your leg towards him, his fingers swiftly worked to tie your laces.

Your hand found his shoulder to steady yourself and you felt the knight going rigid at your touch. You leaned down and spoke from your heart “I cannot decipher what shifted between us or how I caused this distance, but your absence hurts”

He rose up, and his gaze found you and at the sight of your vulnerability something pulled at his heart. “It’s not you, my lady, the blame is entirely on me”

“Why?” You voice tore at him. He looked down at his feet, head hanging in shame. He wanted to confess everything, get the burden off his chest, wanted to tell you how he found peace in your presence, how your touch made his heart bloom, and how deeply he loved you.

But once again he bit his tongue, Loyalty was one commodity that he had and he could not betray the Prince, who now trusts him and treats him as one of his own. He owed his life to the Crown Prince.

“Duncan?” He raised his eyes to you, at first confusion graced his face and after that his expression shifting from pure shock to absolute horror.

And then you felt it ,a sudden wetness under your nose and the sharp, unmistakable taste of copper in your mouth. Your body locked up, your limbs turning to lead. With trembling fingers you brought a hand to your face. Your fingertips came away smeared with bright crimson blood.

“My Lady?”

Your vision tunnelled as you tried blinking the rapid blackness that was covering you. Breathing burned your lungs as if you were underwater. The stillness in your limbs scared you and then you looked up. Your voice croaked

“Dunk?”

And then ground vanished beneath your feet, the last thing you felt was someone’s arms around you and a blood curling scream vibrating from their chest, before everything turned to black.

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Why would you play it all on somethin' as hollow as trust

What if you gave it all to find that it wasn't enough?

Aerion Targaryen x reader

Series Masterlist

For the next few days you sat in isolation, barely leaving your chambers. You felt miserably alone. No one cared, not your father, when you wrote him letters asking to annul your marriage, not the crown prince, whom you avoided since your last conversation in the dining hall, not the man you called your husband, who was missing, he did not seek you out after his Father took him away.

You asked for food to be brought to your quarters, ate in silence, as much as you could stomach that is. The only think constant in your life was the whispers you heard about yourself. The maids with their hushed voices that were still loud enough for you to hear every which way they scrutinised you. Holding you responsible for everything that conspired that night.

They spoke about the mark on your neck, the mark you left on your husband’s cheek, how they thought it was unbecoming of you to strike your husband. How he was a Prince and entitled to everything, even taking other women to bed.

The patriarchy was very capable of pointing fingers, where women were frequently a scapegoat for men's misconduct. You lived with a constant reminder that within these walls, you were utterly alone, with no ally or refuge.

A knock on you door startled you, it was quite late at night. Cautiously you move towards the door and you called out to the visitor “Who is it?”

“Let me in” Aerion? the annoyance in his voice was clear. Your husband was knocking at your door, wanting to be let in. At first you wanted to curse him out, tell him to get lost, you did not want to see his face. But after spending days without much contact to anyone other than the maids made you think better. So you slowly pulled your door open.

Aerion Targaryen stood in his red doublet, a dagger at his hip, his hands folded onto it, staring at you. His silver hair was messy like he spend an hour running his fingers through it, pulling it every which way. The mark of your fingers a bit faded now but still noticeable,his breath was heavy and he swayed at little on his feet.

“You are awake?” Barely a whisper, the breath from his mouth stank of alcohol. He was a bit drunk, not drunk like his older brother Daeron, but drunk nonetheless.

“I am, why are you here?” Your words sharp, You were curious about the reason for his visit after avoiding you like a plaque.

“I wanted to see you” his confession confused you. ”Move, it’s awfully chilly out here” before you could protest, he muscled his way into the threshold. You were certain this was not your husband. Aerion Brightflame, the man who called himself a Dragon, was cold in your hallway.

He quickly made himself at home, sitting at the edge of your bed. You stood in the middle looking at the man as he laid back with his feet hanging of the edge. “I wanted to talk… to you”. His voice soft, unlike anything you ever heard coming out of his mouth.

Nothing was ever soft with Aerion Brightflame, he always walked around like the presence of other beings was a slight to him. Stubborn, arrogant, cruel were some of the words people used to describe him. But the man in front of you, sprawled on your bed was different.

He laid there silent, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide awake, and so still.

Only the subtle rise and fall of his chest was noticeable, this side of him was making you nervous. The silence clawing at you. “Aerion?”

“You asked for annulment?” Oh so he knew, You did not think Baelor would inform him of your wishes after his straight denial to your request.

“Your father wrote to me, asking why you were trying to annul this union” that made you scoff, your father wrote to him, he thought better to write to your husband than to you, his own blood.

“Yes I did” at that Aerion swiftly got up from the bed, and slowly stalked towards you. “Why” his voice was still the monotone, that was just… Aerion, but you could see the fire that burned through him, it should scare you but it did not even put a dent, for you were far more detached after everything.

It was unfair how he dared question you while he was the one responsible for this. For sleeping around, for not accepting your marriage, for not claiming you.

“I want to free myself of you” Aerion Targaryen’s emotions were always locked behind a calculated stillness, he never straying from a tone of chilling indifference. He hid himself behind a controlled exterior, acting as though your words didn't destroy him.

He moved forward to closed the distance between you two. Warm hand swiftly found your nape. You flinched at his touch. The memory of his brutal hold still fresh in your mind. He took notice to the flicker of fear that moved through you. So he shifted, softening his hold a bit as he brought you closer to him.

“I won’t let you”. His eyes darken as he leaned in to place his lips gently on your neck, above the bruise that he left. There was a frightening tenderness in his touch that felt entirely out of character. “You are mine” his nose nudged your jaw, tracing it, you hands found themself on his waist instinctively, bunching up the fabric of his doublet in your grasp.

You could push him away, strike him again, call him names, throw him out of your chambers but your curiosity made you halt. You wanted to see where this was going.

Threading his fingers through your hair he pulled on the locks slightly to make you tilt your head back, not enough to cause you pain, but still firm. “I’m very possessive of things that are mine”.

Finding your voice again you displayed defiance at his words “I’m not an object to posses”

“No, you are my wife……..mine” and he placed his lips to the corner of your mouth, keeping it there.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, if I hear about the annulment from your pretty lips ever again, I swear I will burn this keep to the ground and you with it” there he is, there’s your husband, after a moment of weakness, Aerion was back to his old ways.The effects of alcohol losing the hold on his mind as time passed.

With a fierce kiss between your brows he walked out of your chambers, leaving you to wonder how his actions did not match his words.

____________________________________________

“You asked for me?” Prince Baelor requested your presence in his solar. He send his guard to escort you, leaving no room for you to deny. You both did not speak to each other since your pleads in the dining halls.

“I did, please take a seat” he gestured to the chair in front of him. His eyes never left your face even for a second as you did. “Wine?” he offered while pouring a cup. “Did you call me here for the wine?” He sighed at your retort, You were still annoyed at him. How effortlessly he denied you of the only thing that would have ended your misery.

His declaration before the denial was still fresh in your mind, the way he cradled your face and promised you protection, and how he easily he refused your request a minute after.

“I have a proposition for you,” he sipped his wine and moved towards the window, turning then to face you. The candlelight fell on the pin above his chest, making it gleam in the light.

“You sat at your father’s council, you are well versed in matters of kingdom, grain, treasury and arms, or so I’ve heard” now this intrigued you

“I am, what of it?” you inquired, wanting to know where this was leading

“I would like to offer you a seat at my council, as my advisor”.

Since the day you married Aerion Targaryen you were reduced to just a wife of a Targaryen Prince, no one in the red keep regarded you with anything more than that. but now this proposal from the hand of the king proved you wrong.

Prince Baelor was well aware about the qualities you possessed. He deemed you worthy to have a seat at his council, as the Hand’s advisor and that made your heart swell. “You will sit by my side, a voice of reason, that is if you agree” Prince Baelor’s eyes bore into yours, trying to gauge what your decision would be.

In this society, women were rarely afforded the opportunity to prove themselves, to walk hand in hand with the Men, to have a voice of their own. But this here was exactly that, a once in a life time opportunity, so without thinking twice you made your decision

“I accept your proposal” You could see that Baelor was pleased with your decision. With a soft smile he nodded his head. “Very well, we begin on the morrow”

____________________________________________

“House Mormont has refused to pay taxes honouring the new regime, they want us to revise it.

“We raised it from 10 to 15 and they say it’s too high. On top of that they are way behind on the production.

“Tell them they will be penalised if they do not agree to the terms set by the Crown” Maekar voice rang out in the room.

“I don’t see how that is going to solve the problem at hand” you spoke with confidence. Baelor’s eyes turned to you, waiting patiently for you to say your piece.

“The cold in the north makes it harder to plow and grow, Them being behind production is another problem at hand. They need our supply if they want to sustain themselves in the winter.”

“What do you suggest?” You could see the annoyance on Maekar’s face as his brother hanged on to your every word. He did not like that his brother was so adamant on you being on the council as his advisor.

“We should keep the old regime in place for northern houses….” Maekar cut you off “And face the wrath of southern houses as they bite our head off for the unfair treatment to them only because they live in a warmer climate”

“It’s not unfair, it’s equality. The Southern houses are well equipped as their lands are more fertile than that of the North.House Mormont are behind their harvest, I suggest we offer a good deal to them, to buy what they need from the Southern Houses and tax them 5% on everything they get. That way they can sustain themselves, will be grateful for the help and the Crown will get their piece one way or the other”

Baelor leaning back in his chair, admiring you. The way you commanded the room, how you were brilliant and fair in your suggestion, how you did not waver under his brother’s imposing stare. Pride bloomed in his chest. He was certain that giving you a place on his council was a fruitful decision.

Maekar eyed his brother’s pleased expression, even though he hated to admit it, he was also leaning towards agreeing with you. Baelor and Maekar locked eyes, Satisfaction was clear in the Crown Prince’s eyes .A wordless understanding passed between them, Maekar gave him a slight nod in agreement, he could see the potential in you.

“Anyone in oppose?” Baelor turned his attention towards the council. Getting no argument from anyone, he moved to sign the paper.

“So it is settled” everyone stood up to leave after being dismissed.

⟡°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⟡

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