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#House Targaryen
irlplasticlamb · 3 days
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to be loved means to be consumed.
prints + merch + dm for commission info
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I love my boytoys though and I will support their war crimes.
{Both made by me 💚}
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dr-aegon · 2 days
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THIS
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from twitter
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The hotd brainrot is real and it's here
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beary-rambles · 3 days
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Sneaking around
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r.q: Hii I was wondering if you could do a Jacerys x twin!reader. Where they have been betrothed since they were young, and as the grow up they start slightly falling for each other. And one night she sneaks into his room and they explore themselves 👀can it be smut aswell. 💕🙏
w.c: 3.2k
c.w: porn with plot, misunderstandings, oral (f), p in v, very inaccurate first time, loss of virginity, jacaerys is an idiot, not proofread, supportive daemon, happy ending, avoids use of y/n, talks of baela/jacaerys
requests are open
part two coming soon
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You and jacaerys were inseparable ever since you were born. You two did practically everything together. You ate together, you sat and watched him train while he would sit with you and watch you stich. It was hard to separate the two of you. Your mother even told you when you were very young you would cry if you even lost sight of him and they had to bring him to you to comfort you. 
You had thought nothing of it, not until you had reached the age of three and ten when your mother announced you were to marry him. You could not even process this news as seemingly right after came the news of lady laena’s death and funeral then very soon after the marriage between your mother and daemon. 
When you could finally have a moment to breathe back at dragonstone you tried to turn to jacaerys but he seems to be avoiding you at all costs. More interested in spending his day with baela and lucerys. You couldn't even get along with him let alone speak a word to him without him dodging you and mumbling something about being busy before walking away and most of the time he would be spotted talking with baela and it broke you. 
You began spending more time with Rhaena and Joffrey instead. Joffrey was far too young to even understand why you were upset but rhaena did and did her best to try and cheer you up.
It was hard to move past it but It got easier as the years went on and he still refused to even glance at you. 
“Do you think she will call off the betrothal if I ask her too?” you were now eight and one after your recent name day and dread filled you as you realized you were getting closer and closer to marrying jacaerys. You two still did not talk, you had given up trying to speak to him a long time ago. 
Daemon who was casualing sitting next to you takes a sip out of his goblet, “why ever would you ask her to?” 
You do not lift your head to look at him with his curious stare and continued to stare at the game board in front of you, picking up one of the pieces before answering,
“He does not like me, it would be better for both of us if he married someone else,” you place the piece down before answering him, “like baela.”
He laughs, he laughs so hard he has to clutch his stomach, “it is not funny.”
He wipes a tear from his face as he manages to calm down. “You're right it is hilarious.”
You scoff and cross your arms, “i knew i shouldn't have brought it up-”
“No no, please continue why do you think he likes baela?” He seemingly picks up a random piece from the board and moves it before leaning back on his chair and looking at you expectantly. “Why should I not? When we had been betrothed the first thing he did was decide he wanted nothing to do with me since. Even on our shared name day he says nothing to me except simply wishing me well. He spends every waking moment with her, and when he is not with her he is with my brothers and simply acts like i do not exist he does not even extend me a good morning or a good night for gods sake!” one of your hands slam down on the table in front of you, the board pieces moving but not falling over and you only grow more and more annoyed at the amused look on his face. 
“You are in love with him.” “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You do not deny it.” you angrily move another piece of yours on the board and lean back on your chair as he does.
“It doesn't matter he does not like me. I shall bring it up to mother anyway since you are of no help.” 
He chuckles to himself as a servant enters the room to inform him rhaenyra requests his presence. He shakes his head as he stands moving one of his pieces before turning back to you. “Give it time Issa dōna.”
It is the last thing he says before he is led out the room. You glance down at the board and throw your head back with a sigh.
He had won.
“She plans to ask your mother to cancel the betrothal.”
Jacaerys freezes his head whipping around to look at daemon who was standing closely behind him. 
“Whatever do you mean?”
Daemon laughs, “you sister. She plans to have your betrothal called off.” 
“Why?” 
“Gods you really are foolish boy.”
Jacaerys always believed you to be his better half. While he was more temperamental and hot headed you always seemed to be so rational and so kind. When he heard of your betrothal the first thing he felt was excitement, but it soon turned into fear as he began to worry he would not be a well suited husband to you. He began to spend more time with baela and his mother who taught him how to be a kind and honorable young man and in turn he had begun to ignore you out of fear of ruining your relationship. He had never thought you would turn around and ask for the engagement to be dissolved. 
“You should act quick, she seems rather determined to be rid of you.”
Daemon could barely finish his sentence as he watches jacaerys march out of the room and a smile falls on his face. 
– 
You almost jump out of your seat as the doors of the room you resided in busted open. You moved to a balcony and had been reading. You clutch your book to your chest as you lock eyes with a seemingly out of breath jacaerys who lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing you.
“Jacaerys?”
“Sister, good day.”
You have no clue what to say. This is the first to who knows how long he had come up and approached you himself. All you could do is nod your head as you went back to reading your book.
“Could I sit with you?”
You hum and he takes that as a que to take a seat right next to you. You attempt to focus on the words in the book in front of you but you feel his stare burning into the side of your face you can't help but to feel flustered and the words are nothing but a blur. 
“Would you not rather be hanging out with others?”
After a few moments of silence you cut through it like a knife without looking up at him you continue to feel him stare at you. 
“Who ever could you mean?”
You scoff, aggressively turning the page despite the fact you had not read a single word on the previous one. 
“Oh I don't know, baela perhaps.”
“Baela? I believe she's busy today. But what does she have to do with-” “Oh so you are finally spending time with me because your precious baela is busy?”
“Where is this coming from?”
You stand and take the book under your arm as he stands up as well looking at you alarmed, “y/n..”
Gods, you missed him. You missed the way he said your name.
“I must go i have a meeting with mother i must attend to,”
He looks alarmed and grabs your arm before you can rush past him, “you must not speak with her.”
He grabs your other arm and pulls you close to him so you are forced to lock eyes with him as you feel your breath leave you. He has a desperate look about him, a wash of guilt and sadness over his eyes. 
“I do not deserve it such as i do not deserve you but i must beg for your forgiveness for my transgressions. I have been a bad brother and in part a bad partner but I must beg you to give me another chance. I know I shall never deserve you and I should not have stayed away from you for so long but I was worried you would begin to resent me so I sought out to become a man you would grow to l- grow to enjoy spending your life with. I am sorry. I shall work everyday to earn back your favor and to earn back your trust but I must beg you to not dissolve what has been written in stone between us.”
A tear must have found its way out of your eye as he brings one of his hands to wipe it away, his eyes never straying from yours. “Jace..”
He smiles and leans his forehead against your and takes a deep breath. “I beg of you. Allow me to fall and grovel at your feet for your forgiveness.”
“You're not just going to ask me for it?”
“I do not deserve such an easy fate. You must do me the honor of earning it.”
You laugh and your smile grows as he also begins to smile.
– 
A switch from never seeing jacaerys to practically seeing him all waking hours of your day was a dramatic change. When you awoke he would be waiting for you by the door to walk you to breakfast where he would sit next to you and he would request you come and watch him practice with lucerys and you would try and not laugh as he practically threw the younger boy around like a rag. 
The more and more time you spent with jacaerys the more brave he would become. When the two of you would walk he would place his hand on your back and slide it down almost low enough to be scandalous oh he would pull you into a empty corridor of the keep before dinner and just run his hands up and down your sides as he nudges his head into your neck, seeming content with simply just touching you as such. 
Despite the fact he seemed content, you grew more restless. You wanted him. No, you needed him at this point. Finally having him in your grasp after many years you could barely keep control of yourself when you were around him, wanting nothing more than to jump in his lap and let him have you.
One night you're restless in your bed, turning side to side unable to ignore the ache that resided between your legs and groan as you run your hands along your face. 
You decided to fuck it and just go visit him. Throwing on a cloak and don't even bother to tie it, keeping a firm grip on his with one hand as you walk out of your room and as quietly as you can begin to make your way down the hall down the very familiar path to jacaerys room. 
You begin to rethink your choice as you stare down his door, your bare feet cold on the harsh flooring of the keep. You could see light peeking out from under his door telling you he was still up despite the later hour and against your better judgment you raise your hand and lightly knock on his door. 
You hear a chair scrap and feet paddling towards the door until the door opens and you're met with his shocked face.
“y/n? What are you doing here?” He quickly peeks his head out and looks around the hallway before grabbing your arm and pulling you into the room.
“I just wanted to see you.”
“In the middle of the night?!? Where you could have been seen, what would mother think?” 
“I'm sorry..”
You hang your head and jacaerys sighs and rubs his hand over his face, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get angry. I am just worried about your reputation.” 
He walks over to you and places his hands on your shoulders and you look up at him. You finally notice something, he’s shirtless. You should have noticed that sooner, of course he would be shirtless. You know most men sleep shirtless. Why would he be any different? 
He takes notice of your gaze and flushes, you take notice of the red beginning to shine on his ears and on his cheeks. 
“I am so sorry allow me to go cover myself-”
You grab his cheeks and he freezes. In your rush for him not to leave your side you forget about your cloak and it falls to the ground.
You gasp and move closer to him as a chill washes over you.
“y/n…”
His hands grip your waist and pull you right up against him and he drops his head into your neck and leaves a kiss there.
“Tell me to stop at once.” he continues to kiss your neck over and over as he runs his hands up and down your sides and you shudder.
“I demand you ask me to stop.”
His lips trail their way up your jaw and his hands rest against your cheek, “why must i?” “For your honor you must push me away for I fear I desire you far too much, it is improper.” 
“Jace.”
He groans and stops himself from kissing your lips, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing heavily.
“You must push me away.”
You decide to be bold and push your lips against his and he grips your face with his hands, kissing you frivolously.
Your hands find their way onto his chest and slide down under the band of his pants and he groans, his lips sliding off of yours, a trail of saliva falls between you as his head falls into your neck.
“Please, my love please.” he whines as his hips thrust against your hands. You had snuck away and read many a book about what a man and woman do in bed, especially after reconciling with jacaerys, and you wrap your hands around his dick and take your rub to rub around to the tip of it. He groans into your ear and suckles your neck. You use the seemingly constant flowing precum to pump up and down, taking pleasure in the way he whines and moans in your ear.
“You are too kind to me.” he slurs in your ear as you smile and work faster, “i only wish to please you, would you rather me get on my knees?”
You squeal as he rips your hands off him and lifts you up and carries you over the bed, “as thrilling as that view would be, I would much rather be pleasing you my love.”
He lays you down on the bed and gets on his knees pulling you closer to the edge, once he gets closer he lays his head against your thigh and admires you. “You did not come wearing anything under your gown?”
You cover your face with embarrassment, “do you think me desperate?” 
He shakes his head as he moves closer, “no, i am much worse.”
He licks a long strip up your core and grips your hips down with his hands as he eats as if he had never eaten anything before.
Your hands grip his long curly hair and you can barely contain your moans as you try to push him even closer to you.
“How are you so good at this?”
He hums against you sending chills down your spine, “I imagined this more than I would like to admit.” His words are muffled as he continues to assault on your clit but you can understand him clearly and moan even louder. He does not care, if anything he seems to encourage you by not faltering even for a second, if you could have any coherent thoughts you would wonder how he could breathe.
Your grip grows tighter in his hair and your hips fight against his hands as you grow closer and you feel him smile against you. “Come for me, I wish to taste it.”
And you do and he takes his time licking up each and every single drop before kissing his way up and climbs on top of you and smiles at you. His hands fondle your breasts on top of your nightgown, “could you take it off me?” 
Once the two of you are sat up he bunches up the bottom of your gown, “lift your hips for me.” he easily slides the gown up and off of you. His eyes glow as they rack over your body, “you are the most beautiful women in the whole world. I shall never deserve you.” 
He kisses you before standing up and sliding his bottoms off, you do not get any time to admire his form before he is already climbing over you once more and kissing you again.
“Please jace do not tease me.”
“I should prep you more-”
“I dont care”
“It will hurt-”
“All I want is you, please.” He looks worried but gives in as you feel his dick slap against you and you moan as you grip his shoulders.
“Please tell me if it hurts too much.”
It does hurt. It hurts like hell. A part of you almost tells him to stop pushing into you but you power through until you feel him bottom out. You two sit there for a while, the only sounds being your gasping breaths and his strained groans as he seems to be holding himself back. 
Once the pain seems to subside you test with a move of your hips causing him to moan out. “Do not do that.” “You can move.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please do.”
He is slow at first, so slow you can feel every vein up against your walls and you tighten around him and he hisses. As he continues to move your moans seemingly motivate him to begin to move faster and faster until he is rutting into you like he cannot control himself any longer. 
You sloppily leave kisses on his neck as your hands grip his back, you are so overwhelmed, all the feelings you hold towards your twin rushing towards you at full force.
“I love you.”
He stops, out of breath he grips your face with his hands, “what?”
Tears flood your face as you stare at him, you thought he never looked so beautiful. “I love you.”
He leans down and kisses away your tears as he begins to move once again, “I love you so much so so so much my sweet.”
In your rush of emotions you came yet he continues to kiss all over your face and your neck until as he did earlier his head slumps into your neck. “Where do you want me to-”
“In me please I beg of you. I need to feel it.”
And so he does. The two of you stay like that for a while, completely out of breath and covered in sweat. One of his hands comes to your cheek once more and caresses it as he lays a gentle kiss on your lips.
“I love you so much.”
“And i love you.”
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cyrranka · 2 days
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𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯
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spacerockfloater · 1 day
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“Rhaenyra did try having kids with Laenor, but it didn’t work. That’s why she had bastards. What was she supposed to do, rape him?”
Babe. She should have not married him in the fist place.
I’m sorry, did you watch the show with your eyes closed? Rhaenyra marries Laenor because she believes that they can both fuck whomever they want in this relationship. She tells him they’ll both be free to dine as they please! The only thing she cares about is her own pleasure and freedom, not her duty! And I’m supposed to route for her?
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buckybarnesb-tch · 1 day
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Aemond T. Yandere A-Z
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(For the multiple people who asked for a Yandere Alphabet for our favorite little War Criminal)
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A stands for AFFECTION: how would they show affection?
•Aemond is a gift giver to the extreme
•From the moment you found out about your betrothal to your Uncle, you had been receiving gorgeous dresses, fantastic shoes and jewelry you could never have imagined wearing. All of the jewelry you were gifted containing large sapphires in the necklaces or earrings, staking the One Eyed Princes claim on you
B stands for BLOODY: how bloody are they willing to get for their object of obsession?
•He loves getting bloody on a normal occasion so getting bloody for you would be a joy for Aemond
•He would slaughter any and all men who dared even think they had a chance with his girl and he even killed a few women who thought it their place to ‘warn you’ about what he’s like and insist you needed to get out of the marriage proposal, even though you all knew that was impossible
C stands for CRUELTY: would they ever hurt their object of obsession?
•Aemond would avoid harming you as much as possible, he never liked to see pain on your face or bruises on your perfect porcelain skin but if you thought you were going to defy him then he needed to teach you a lesson
•Normally locking you in your rooms was enough after two days of isolation and eating all of your meals alone
•Only once did Aemond ever really hurt you and it was only after you had pushed him too far, something even you admitted he couldn’t ignore in public
D stands for DARLING: would they cross their object of obsession’s limits?
•Aemond is as patient as he can be with you but if you give him no other choice, then yes, he absolutely will
E stands for EXPOSED: how much do they expose their own feelings to their object of obsession?
•Aemond talks to you about almost everything
•One of your jobs as his wife is to listen to him and you quickly find out you’re the only person that he really tells about how he feels about everything from his mother to his brother to even his father
•He is also very open in how he feels about you, making it clear from the moment you are betrothed that you are his and he is completely obsessed with you loves you dearly
F stands for FIGHT: how would they react to their object of obsession fighting back?
•Aemond absolutely thinks it’s funny…for about 5 minutes
•You are his wife and him your husband, you will behave as a lady is expected to behave within the confines of her marriage so ‘fighting back’ isn’t really much of an option
G stands for GAME: do they think this is just a game?
•You are Aemond’s everything, this is no game
•Anyone who thinks it is will get a painful wake up call sooner than they think
H stands for HELL: what would be their object of obsession’s worst experience with them?
•Your worst experience would be the one time you made the mistake of refusing his demands in front of the small council
•Aemond didn’t want to harm you, he was trying quite hard to get you used to being his wife and doing your duties/behaving how he expected you to but you didn’t give him much of an option before you felt his hand strike your face so painfully you briefly thought he had broken your jaw
•He apologized for hitting you so hard later in the privacy of your rooms but informed you that you shouldn’t have said anything against him in front of anyone especially the small council and even you knew how badly you had messed up as soon as the words left your mouth
I stands for IDEAL: what are their plans for their object of obsession?
•Aemond’s plan is impregnating you
•That has been his plan since the moment he insisted his mother ensure you were going to be his wife
J stands for JEALOUSY: how they react when jealous? Do they get jealous?
•When Aemond is jealous someone is going to die, he is a violent man when he thinks another man is getting close to his wife and he will often publicly punish any man who he thinks is looking at his Princess wrong
•You learned very quickly to talk to other men as little as possible
•However you also learned that if you wanted a man dead you had a sure fire way to make it happen
K stands for KINDNESS: how they act around their object of obsession?
•When you and Aemond are alone he is much different than he is in public
•Aemond is usually a sweet, gentle person with you when he isn’t in a bad mood or you’re not being difficult
•Even when in public he is gentler with you than most men are with their wives, he’s just far more quiet and somber
L stands for LOVE LETTER: how would they approach their object of obsession?
•He made sure his mother knew he would only accept you as his wife, and that if Rhaenyra made the mistake of trying to marry you to anyone else he would steal you away before any wedding could take place and burn the Lords house to the ground, ally of the Hightowers or not
•Aemond was quite sweet to you, he always had been when you were children however he was a proper gentleman now and he ensured you were as happy as you could be…obsessively so
M stands for MASK: how different are their public persona from their true selves?
•He is quiet for the most part in public, and if he must say something it is usually a snarky comment or a backhanded insult
•With you he is very attentive and often needy for your attention which is actually what makes you fall for him in the end, loving his desperation for you
N stands for NAUGHTY: how would they punish their object of obsession?
•Aemond locks you in your chambers until you can’t stand being alone anymore and admit you were wrong for whatever, you never really need anything more than that
O stands for OPPRESSION: how many rights would they take from their object of obsession?
•Rights?
•What are rights?
•You are Aemond’s wife. You will do what is expected of a highborn lady wife or be punished. Even so, Aemond tries to make you as happy as he can and doesn’t order you about as much as he could
P stands for PATIENCE: how patient are they with their object of obsession?
•Aemond tries his best to be very patient and to his credit he does very well until you push too hard
•Compared to other men and even other Targaryen men, he is quite patient with you, wanting you to actually learn lessons and want to be a good wife for him in the end
Q stands for QUIT: if their object of obsession died or escaped, would they ever be able to move on?
Died: He would be a complete basket case without you and he would refuse to remarry for any reason what so ever
Escaped: He would go on a rampage until he got you back. No one would be safe until he found you and had you back in his arms
R stands for REGRET: would they ever regret harming their object of obsession? Would they ever let them go?
•Aemond will Never let you go
•He would only ever regret how hard he slapped you once in a small council meeting, he hated how afraid of him you were in that moment
S stands for STIGMA: what made their yandere tendencies bloom?
•You had always been the only one in the family who was kind to Aemond, being his best friend as kids
•He knew you would be his wife from the moment you first stuck up for him during the pig prank to your brothers and uncle, that was the day he fell completely in love with you
•He decided that night that he would do whatever he needed to do in order to make you his wife, even though he knew his mother would want to marry him to another house and that Rhaenyra would never want you to be with him
T stands for TEARS: how would they react to their object of obsession crying/breaking?
•Anger
•Your tears brings out a rage in Aemond that is not often seen and he will slaughter whoever has made you so upset
•If he were the one to upset you however, he wouldn’t really know how to fix that. He would typically hold you until you either calmed down or cried yourself out and then get you a gift as an apology since “apologizing” isn’t really something he knows how to do very well
U stands for UNIQUE: something different they would do compared to others yanderes.
•In the beginning of your relationship, before the wedding was set and you were staying as far from him as you could, Aemond came up with a plan to make you dependent on him and feel safe with him to ensure you wouldn’t try and run back home to Rhaenyra and Daemon (who was the only man you seemed to trust which enraged him to no end)
•Aemond had Criston Cole hire a man to sneak into the castle with the intent to kill you. He planed it out meticulously to ensure you were never in any real danger though you wouldn’t know that
•The man entered your chambers as you were getting ready to sleep and you shrieked, backing towards the window, pleading with him not to harm you and telling him that he could leave and you would forget he was ever there. Suddenly your door flew open and Aemond ran in, he was on the man before you could blink, beating his head in as he shouted about how he would never let anyone harm his wife
•It was that night that you really began giving Aemond the chance to win your love, realizing that you were truly safe with him. The entire plot was a secret that Aemond would take to his grave
V stands for VICE: what weakness their object of obsession could use against them?
•His jealousy, 100%
•If you want someone, anyone dead, all you need to do is make it seem like they’ve been looking at you for more than a second too long, it gives you a feeling of absolute power and you love it
W stands for WIT’S END: would they hurt their object of obsession?
•Aemond would never hurt you in any kind of serious way
•If he has to he will lock you in your chambers for the rest of your life, but he won’t do you serious harm
X stands for XOANON: would they worship their object of obsession?
•He definitely has a way of making you feel like a Goddess
•Especially when you’re pregnant as he worships the ground you walk on. He is constantly getting you whatever food you’re craving, fluffing your pillows, rubbing your sore feet, anything to make his precious Princess feel better while she is carrying his baby inside of her
•You are the most precious thing in the whole world to him and even when he is upset with you Aemond never lets you forget it
Y stands for YEARN: how long would they pine after their object of obsession before they snap?
•Aemond has always loved you, and always had a bit of a crush on you however he has been head over heels since he was 10
•He keeps it together and hidden until he is 16 and he demands you as his bride upon hearing that Rhaenyra was considering marriage proposals for you, the idea of you being married off to someone else sending him over the edge
Z stands for ZENITH: would they ever break their object of obsession?
•Aemond doesn’t want you broken, he wants you to be his compliant little Princess and that’s exactly what you are
•You had always known what was expected of you as a women and a wife in a marriage from the time that you were a little girl (though you never expected to be married to your Uncle) but Aemond ensured that you would be exactly what he always wanted in a wife and you are absolutely Perfect to him
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Aemond Targaryen Masterlist
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fragile-heart-beats · 22 hours
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𝙋𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙖𝙮 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖 𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧.
— King Aegon Targaryen Second Of His Name
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thatscruelsummer · 24 hours
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quick alicole sketch (w baby daeron ♥)
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coaxed you into paradise - c. 30
Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.
TW: death, murder, sexual assault, assault in general.
(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)
masterlist for this series
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Chapter Thirty: Blood and Cheese II
The Dragons descended into Westeros with avarice, and with avarice their dynasty continues onwards. Blood against blood, dragons against dragons. The Targaryens have conquered the six-kingdoms, yet their their biggest enemy is themselves.
Alyssa, the princess was always drawn to the ocean. She liked the feel of the waves on her knees, the rough sand on her barefoot. She holds her son, Aelor, close to her bosom. "Where could your father have trailed off to?" she mused, staring deep into her son's eyes.
Aemond days ago.
Alicent would not provide her a clear answer.
Cordelia peeks through the small curtain that hid Alyssa's body. "The Queen calls for you, princess." she bowed. Alyssa's eyebrows merged into each other. "It is far too early in the morning for conversation," she smiled, hoping to dismiss the handmaiden.
"I-I, well the Queen was very firm. It would be best to follow her, princess." the handmaiden stuttered, knowing something that her lady did not. A creature of doubt builds inside of her ribcage. Alyssa was no stranger to war.
Her real father, Daemon Targaryen, fought thousands of them before she was whelped into the world. "Is it important?" her frown deepened and the handmaiden nods. "Very well, prepare my gown and take good care of Prince Aelor." she commanded while rising to her feet.
A dragon does not cower behind the four walls of her bedroom. She fights all her battles, the same.
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Alyssa takes a step forward, entering the threshold of her good-mother's bedroom. There were pastries scattered on the table, a warm cup of tea waiting for her.
"Your grace." she curtsied, then licking her chapped lips. "Alyssa, how kind of you to join me." Alicent smiled with a knowing stare. There was something behind those brown irises that unnerved her. "Have you seen Prince Aemond?" she inquired with a cautious tone.
"Your grandfather is dead and the soldiers march for war against Rhaenyra." Alicent says frankly, no longer interested in sugar-coating her words. A gasp escapes her mouth. King Viserys was dead? "I have sent my son away to make negotiations with House Baratheon." she adds, her eyes filled with much more sorrow than usual.
Alyssa tries to calm herself down, but her heart was filled with anger.
"You thought it would be fit to usurp the rightful Queen?" she questioned, still trying to keep her tone soft.
"King Viserys told me before he died, that he changed his mind."
"- thought that Aegon was deserving of his titles." Alicent lied.
Alyssa clenches her fists. "- but that isn't the truth, isn't it?" she argued, wanting nothing more than to jump into the arms of her beloved husband. If Aemond was beside her, she'd convince him - they'd defect and crown the rightful Queen.
"You need not lie to me. If I had been in your shoes, I would've done the very same. It is not everyday that a woman's son becomes King - but even the blind could see that Prince Aegon is not a worthy heir." she presented clear, and offense strikes the Queen Mother's face.
"He is greater than his father. He listens to his advisors." Alicent grits her teeth, unamused at Alyssa's defiance. "- and I assume that you believe yourself to be his advisor." she antagonized. "You were the King's advisor too, but that did not save you. My Queen, I apologize for my brashness, but you do not wish to be free, you merely wish to create a window of your prison." Alyssa scoffed.
Queen Alicent was about to respond, but a knock halts their argument. Her uncle, Lord Larys Strong, marches inside of the chambers. "Queen Alicent, Princess Alyssa." he curtsies, quickly sashaying to Alicent's side.
He leans forward, whispering a few strings of words, but the premise was clear enough for Alyssa.
Prince Lucerys Velaryon was dead, and Aemond had been the one to butcher him.
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Saera takes a deep breath, in fear of what Rhaenyra was capable of. "One cannot even imagine the pain she's feeling right now, I fear that she'll do something. She'll want to get even." the White Princess breathes, playing with the bracelet on her wrist.
"- that means that Alyssa and Aelor are in danger?" Daegon inquires, his eyebrows merging into each other. He couldn't bare the thought of harm coming to his twin sister.
Daemon presses his fingers to his lips.
"Rhaenyra will not harm them. We are her strongest allies, losing us could mean losing the war." he gave his informed opinion. "- still, you are right, love. Alyssa and Aelor will not be safe in Kingslanding."
"We are caught in a limbo, then?" her eyes narrowed. "We must get our daughter back, yet we are stuck here - and the mere sound of our arrival could mean death." she takes a sip of her wine.
She was trying to keep up her stone-cold facade, so that her son wouldn't be rattled, but all she wanted to do was cry. Her mind couldn't help but drift off to Alyssa. She must be scared.
Daemon places a tender hand on her shoulder, already aware of the inner workings of her mind. He gives her stare, promising her that everything would be fine in the end. "I have spies in Kingslanding. I'll attempt to have Alyssa back - Aelor, I believe will be safer there."
"We shouldn't involve ourselves in this war, muña. It is between Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon. Let us flee to the Free Cities, take everyone and never return." Daegon suggests.
Daemon glares at his son.
"Dragons do not run with their tails in between their legs. We fight our battles, and Rhaenyra's battle is our own. The same blood flows through our veins." he corrected, wholly understanding of his son's cowardice. "Viserra and Daelon are children, in times of war, horrible things happen to children." Daegon defends.
"But we are here, all of us to protect them. A house united, is a house unbreakable." Saera breathed, and only then did Daegon's eyes softened. "- and when war is over, the dragon feeds."
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Aelor's face was soft - almost the same visage as his grandmother. There was a smile on his face, oblivious of the torment that was to ensue, Ser Criston takes a seat beside Alyssa. "He is safe, but not for long." he whispered, so only Alyssa could hear his opinion. "He is guarded by four walls, and a dozen guards. Surely Princess Rhaenyra will not harm us? Not Aelor?" Alyssa frowns, the knight shakes his head. "She may not harm you, but she will harm Prince Aemond's son. She will seek revenge." he scowled.
Alyssa couldn't do anything but blame her husband - her good-mother, and everyone involved in supplanting Princess Rhaenyra. "Then you must make it your personal goal to protect Prince Aelor." she pleaded, staring deep into his honeyed eyes.
"I shall do my best, but it is not a guarantee." Criston bows.
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Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, staring at the men in front of her. “Mysaria mustn’t know of this,” she asserted - knowing that the whore was on her sister’s side. “- I want you to execute Prince Aelor.” she commanded, dropping a few gold coins on the table. 
“It will be done, my lady.” the older man replies with a smirk. 
“What’s your name again?” She raised her eyebrows. 
“My name’s Blood.” 
“And I’m Cheese.”
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Saera wasn't one to wait for the proper timing. She had her mind set on one goal, and she'd exert all of her efforts into getting it.
"Lady Mysaria, what are you doing here?" Alyssa frowns, holding Aelor close to her chest once more. "There is a clear passage back to Dragonstone, your mother intends for you back within a fortnight." Mysaria informs, taking a step forward.
"What about Bluefyre? Aemond? Aelor?" Alyssa asks.
"You may take Aelor, but the dragon and your husband must remain." Mysaria made a decision of her own. "I cannot leave without them." Alyssa says clearly, hoping to provide salvation for the ones to be left behind. "You forget that it was your husband who betrayed you first." Mysaria articulated, her voice suddenly becoming cold.
Alyssa's heart breaks, recognizing that the woman wasn't lying. "He murdered a child, your cousin." Mysaria attempts to sway the Princess. "- I have not spoken to him since before that night. I'm sure that if we were to have a conversation, things would be clearer." Alyssa defended, it was her right and oath.
When she vowed to marry the One-Eyed Prince, she also vowed to be understanding, to always present alibis when it came to him, and to always be loyal, even when the circumstance proved to be difficult. "I wish that it was that easy, but we do not have much time. We cannot leave right now, but tomorrow - use the secret passages that your uncle taught you. Meet me in Princess Saera's solars, and we shall leave for Dragonstone."
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Princess Alyssa couldn't sleep. Her heart was beating rapidly, threatening to come out of her chest. She was tossing and turning, unable to find even a blink of rest. Today, she was a spoil of war - a prisoner in her own home, but tomorrow, mayhaps, she'll be free.
Why must it all come down to this? A year of marriage with her much beloved husband was turning into another tragic tale. Alyssa wished nothing more than to be free of the narrative, to live somewhere where these - things couldn't come near her family.
An object falls loudly on the floor, Alyssa reaches for the dagger underneath her pillow. "Aemond?" she cleared her throat, "Princess," a gruff voice replies, and another man steps into the light. It was not her husband - it was a different man.
He was broad and tall, he had a stubble on his chin. "Who are you?" she pointed the dagger at him. "I'm Blood, and my brother is Cheese. We were sent here to murder your son." he says casually.
"Not him," she shielded her son away from their view. Aelor, was unfortunate enough to be laying beside her on the bed, instead of his own room with the handmaidens. Blood and Cheese must've known, but who could've sent them?
"A son for a son," Blood grins.
A chill ran down her spine.
Princess Rhaenyra?
"What did she pay you, I shall double it?" Alyssa pleaded, vulnerable in her thin nightgown, her body almost bare to the eyes of the intruders. It made her feel dirty, tainted almost.
"Gold does little to deter us, Alyssa." Blood takes a step forward, only a few inches away from her. "Then you'll have to go through me." Alyssa bravely defends. "That will not be hard."
She stands up from the bed, remembering all her lessons with Prince Daemon. Even when she's standing on the bed, her head barely reaches Blood and Cheese's forehead. He tries to move his hand forward, but Alyssa manages to sever his little finger.
"Cunt," Blood mumbled, anger pumping through his veins. He raises his free hand, slapping Alyssa across the face, sending her on her knees. "You are still a little girl eh'. You can't defeat me." he antagonized, commanding his brother to pull her back.
Cheese carries her with ease, dragging her on the floor. "Please I beg of you, if Prince Daemon or my mother finds out about this - no god shall save you." she cursed at them, fighting through Cheese's malevolent hold. "Take me instead, please!" she screamed, in shock that no one has heard yet.
"Do whatever you want with me, but not my son." she cried.
Cheese chuckles, pressing her back to his chest. "Whoring yourself out to us? Desperate." he teased, and Aelor cries loudly.
Blood carries Aelor by the neck, muffling his cries of agony. "Maybe when we're done with this little runt, we'll fuck a bastard inside of you." he chuckled, opening a window and threatening to let go of Aelor. Tears began to flow harder from her eyes, Valyrian whispers of revenge, until Blood lets go.
And her son falls to his death.
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lumidef · 2 days
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Princess Jaehaera Targaryen & her dragon Morghul
Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen & his dragon Shrykos
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ammmyturtle · 2 days
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pre-dance Targaryen dynasty monarchs and their favorites XD
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sylasthegrim · 16 hours
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The Gods are Prisoners ♢ Chapter 2
Aegon x Aryana Stark (OC) x Aemond
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Tags ♢ arranged marriage, romantic tension, eventual polyamory
Wordcount ♢ 4,065
While touring the Seven Kingdom, Prince Aegon meets his intended, Aryana of House Stark. While he expected an austere woman, he instead finds a fiery young lady with an unexpected affinity for dragons. However, he isn’t the only Targaryen prince to take an interest in her…
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In this chapter, Aegon and his intended finally meet under the careful eye of King Viserys and Rickon Stark. However, neither is how the other expected...
Masterlist
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Chapter 2 ♢ The Godswood
It was as though time had stopped in the courtyard, people standing still in the quietly blowing wind, the royal carriage having been spotted and its estimated arrival was a mere few minutes.
There was a strange sort of atmosphere, a mixture of excitement and exhaustion, as a royal visit was a grand affair and this specific one had been years in the making—it was no simple visit, but the confirmation of the betrothal between House Stark and House Targaryen.
In the center of the courtyard, the Warden stood with his children, brother and nephews, and the handful of northern lords who had made the journey to Winterfell to meet their king. Most of them were present to witness this new alliance take its first steps, others to petition their sovereign, if he allowed it. What was at stake hung over their heads like a cloud, particularly heavy on Aryana’s shoulders.
Still, she stood with pride, bust held straight and chin tilted high. She would make her House and kingdom proud, she vowed to herself, no matter who she would meet today. She might meet a man she could eventually fall in love with, or at least come to admire, but she knew she could just as well meet someone she would never see eye to eye with, and they would have to rule together despite their differences.
Aryana was pulled out of her thoughts as the assembly gasped—a great shadow suddenly flew over them, plunging the yard in darkness for a few seconds before the walls trembled and the ground shook, rattling the windows. A great chill went down her spine and the back of her neck prickled with excitement.
She had read about dragons in the years prior, but she had never seen one, and she wondered if the sight of a winged beast would be enough to satisfy her if Prince Aegon was a disappointment.
The courtyard was silent in the minute that followed, before the King’s carriage passed the gates. Soon it was stopping a few feet away from them, and Aryana’s stomach twisted in a knot.
She threw a glance at her brother who stood on the other side of the father, and his encouraging nod settled her nerves slightly. No matter who Prince Aegon was, she would still have her family as support.
Aryana breathed through parted lips as the king came out, walking down the couple of steps out of the carriage with slight difficulty—he looked a bit tired, or perhaps even sick, and she thought to herself that the sight of the dragon king was quite underwhelming. Still, she held her judgment for later and curtsied low as her father greeted the king appropriately. 
The words they spoke to each other were lost on her as she kept her eyes on the carriage’s door, her heart beating wildly in her chest as a young man came out, following the King’s footsteps. 
He was shorter than his father, slim and well-dressed in the colors of his house. The black and dark red made his golden white hair stand out, and as he looked up from the steps, his piercing gaze searching the assembly, Aryana took a single step forward.
He was handsome, and that was a small relief, she thought to herself. His hair was cut below his chin, thick waves that framed his chiseled jaw and rounder face, the curves of youth still present in his cheeks. The look on his face was one of reserve, neither shy nor enthusiastic, and before Aryana could decide what she truly thought of him, her father introduced her.
“Prince Aegon, may I present you my daughter, Aryana,” Rickon introduced solemnly, reaching for her hand.
Aegon planted his feet into the hard ground as his own father turned to him, watching him like a hawk, and the young prince swallowed his nerves. He held onto the words of encouragement his brother had given him earlier, keeping his face neutral. 
The young woman at the right of Lord Rickon stepped forward, dressed in black and brown, muted colors that made her fiery hair stand out, and Aegon could not help a smile pulling at his lips. 
She was lovelier than he could have ever expected—while he had spent months if not years picturing an austere, plain woman, he was instead faced with an intriguing beauty. Her pale skin was freckled like a splatter of stars upon the sky, in accordance with her formidable red hair and rich brown eyes.
Out of the two brothers, Aemond was the poet and the more romantic at heart, but in this instant Aegon understood the appeal of well-chosen words and great declamations. His relief was so that he could not find his voice, and after a breathless chuckle that warmed Aegon’s chest further, the young lady spoke.
“It is an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Prince Aegon,” she said with a proper curtsy, slow and low, her lower lip caught under her teeth. A subtle squeeze of her father’s hand and she released it, looking up at Aegon under her lashes.
Aegon’s heart picked up speed when he saw the look in her eyes and realized with excitement that what was surely being mistaken for shyness by the rest of the royal party was a carefully constructed image, and behind her demure attitude lay a character that he found himself curious to discover. Mischief sparked in her dark gaze and Aegon grinned.
“The pleasure and honor are mine, Lady Aryana,” he recited in a careful tone, and he could practically feel his brother roll his eye behind him. His cheekbones flushed slightly as she seemed pleased, looking up at her father with pride.
At his side Viserys clapped him on the shoulder firmly and for once, was looking upon him with satisfaction. He knew it would take much more to deserve his father’s pride. “This way, your grace, we have much to discuss,” Rickon invited, and King Viserys followed him.
Walking side by side behind their fathers, Aryana kept the appropriate distance between her and Aegon while holding her head high, stealing glances to her right. 
“I hope your journey was pleasant,” she offered much too carefully for it to be natural, and Aegon’s grin came back slightly. He understood she was playing a game, much like he was, certainly having been taught what to say and encouraged to rehearse words beforehand—there would be time for honesty later, now they had a part to play.
“Most of it was on dragonback. Pleasant doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he still decided to reply honestly, and for a split-second wondered if she would take his answer as arrogance, but she only breathed a laugh.
“How exciting it must be, to be able to fly,” she exclaimed, her voice taking on a musical tone. It was deeper than most women’s, with a rumble he found utterly charming. He allowed himself a step slightly to the side and their shoulders brushed minutely—she was as tall as him, perhaps even an inch taller. 
“I suppose that in time, I could take you with me,” Aegon offered, fully knowing his question was a bit forward and that most people would be intimidated by the idea of riding a dragon, but he was eager to know what sort of northern lady she was. 
“I would love that,” she replied warmly, her complexion brightening under her excitement, and Aegon felt a boost of pride in his chest. It was rare that he made a good impression, and it was a good feeling. “The great beast that flew over us, is it yours?” 
“I’m afraid you shall have to settle for less,” Aegon answered, slightly bitter—perhaps a good impression was unattainable after all. “This formidable beast is my brother’s dragon, Vhagar. Mine is smaller, with golden scales.”
“Golden scales suit you more,” she added with utter certainty, and Aegon stopped in his tracks, genuinely surprised. She looked straight at him as he turned to face her, the party following a few feet behind stopping as well, allowing them the illusion of privacy.
“Your hair,” she replied, obviously taking his stunned silence as a question. Her gaze followed the line of his nose up to his forehead and his hairline, giving the ample opportunity to Aegon to look into the details of her face—her button nose scrunched slightly as she examined the color of his hair. “It’s less white than I expected. It has gold in it.”
Aegon felt his chest swell at this simple observation, the fact that she had thought of him enough to have expectations as elating as it was frightening, but he wished to know what else she had imagined him to be. 
“Your hair is less brown than I expected,” he returned the observation and her answering grin smoothed the scrunched skin at the bridge of her nose. He took a moment to look at her thick mane, and the color reminded him of the falling leaves in the Red Keep’s gardens when autumn hit the capital.
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The royal party was invited to settle into the guest quarters while the king and Rickon Stark talked in the small hall where the Warden usually received his petitions. Neither Aryana nor Aegon were allowed, and while she smiled easily and made herself scarce, no doubt seeking her brother, he found himself swallowing nerves.
He wondered what terms were being discussed while he changed from his traveling clothes—he had been put into a fresh doublet during their last stop, barely an hour away from Winterfell, and his hair combed, but to clean up and rest in a real bedroom was still very much welcomed.
“She is lovely,” he whispered to Aemond in passing as they were led to their respective rooms, and the young man appeared pleased for him. 
Aemond took less time freshening up, barely a swipe of a damp cloth at his throat and the back of his neck, and a change of doublet—the smell of dragon could be offensive to some, but he carried the scent with pride.
As he came down into the main hall where chatter was coming from, he found a luncheon offered to the royal party as a welcome, and he was glad for the cup of mulled wine a servant put in his hand. 
He settled himself on the edge of the room, looking at his father’s advisors mingling with the northern lords who had made the journey to Winterfell to greet them. Near the large hearth, Rickon Stark and Viserys were deep into what seemed to be a serious conversation.
As he was two third into his cup, he saw Lord Rickon look up and beckon someone over. Before Aemond could turn his head and see who was outside of his field of vision, Aryana appeared, walking over to her father with confidence.
From the corner of his eye, Aemond observed the young woman. She seemed perfectly at ease speaking to the king, smiling easily and holding herself with assurance. He was relatively pleased with what he had seen of her so far, and was hopeful she would make a fine companion for his brother. 
Soon he was pulled into conversation by one of his father’s advisors and put aside his musings, focusing on the task at hand, the one he had been brought into the tour for—managing Aegon’s image, and painting a better picture of his brother.
By the fire, Aryana had a difficult time focusing on her conversation with the king. She was eagerly awaiting Aegon’s return among the party, and she found herself wondering if her betrothed hadn’t fallen asleep in his room.
After a short while, Viserys called the name of his second son; Aryana followed his gaze to where the tall man was standing among a small party conversing excitedly.
The prince turned on himself, arms still crossed behind his back, Aryana was momentarily struck by his appearance—she had seen him in the royal party, standing closer to the king and Prince Aegon than anyone else, his white hair giving him away, but seeing him up-close was an another experience altogether. 
He was leaner than his brother, with sharp features that were harmonious despite their cutting edges. A scar seemed to run along the left side of his face, from his eyebrow to his cheekbone, hidden by an eye patch that contributed to his unusual appearance. “Lady Aryana,” he greeted, her name rolling smoothly on his tongue, and she was utterly intrigued.
“Prince Aemond,” she replied, a bit more curt than she would have liked, still puzzled at how different the two brothers seemed to be. “Might you know where my betrothed is? I think it would be fitting for me to spend some time with him.”
“Last I saw him, your brother was showing him the way to the Godswood.”
Aryana excused herself politely, and the king encouraged her to seek Aegon, his brow furrowing as he realized his eldest son was absent from the luncheon. She hurried out into the cool air of the afternoon and walked to the Godswood decidedly. The canopy of trees enveloped her as she stepped into the enclosed forest, the familiar smell of earth and leaves soothing her nerves slightly.
She found Aegon easily, not far from the entrance, and she stopped in her tracks as she found the prince was not in the company she had expected. Cregan was nowhere to be seen, and seemingly unafraid or uncaring, Aegon was sitting atop a large tree root and petting Aryana’s wolf, Nymeria. 
“You are either bold or a reckless fool, as she could easily bite off your hand,” Aryana announced herself.
Aegon barely looked up before he grinned, his pink lips stretching to reveal his white teeth. “You seem to have forgotten what beast I rode here,” he said with unconcealed pride. “What is a dog compared to a dragon? No matter the size of the dog, it doesn't compare.”
“Hardly a dog,” Aryana laughed, a deep rumbling sound that made him want to hear more of it.
In that spirit, he pushed the taunting humor, eager to see how far she would allow him to jest, or if she would take it as an offense. “It has four legs, fur and fangs. What would you call it, if not a dog?” he asked with a grin.
“She is a Direwolf, and her name is Nymeria,” she introduced. “Comparing her to a dog would be comparing your golden beast to an eagle or a hawk.”
Aegon’s grin widened and he shook his head as she sat beside him, tucking her heels against the root. He looked up from her low boots to where the hem of her dress had ridden up, exposing her ankles and legs almost up to her knees. She was dressed in a dark brown gown with maroon embroideries, a simple dress with a high, modest collar.
“You haven’t answered my question,” she said after a while, uncaring that she was being observed. “Are you bold or a fool?”
“I will let you answer that question for yourself,” he replied with good humor, and they shared a conniving smile.
“Afraid of revealing yourself so soon?” she asked in what was meant to be a teasing tone, but his brow furrowed and she had the inkling she had pushed him too far. His casual hint of arrogance amused her and she far preferred it to false modesty, but now she wondered what it was hiding. “I thought Cregan was escorting you?” she quickly asked, unwilling to let the first question fester between them.
“He did. I asked for a moment alone,” Aegon replied. “These woods are peaceful.”
“Indeed they are,” she agreed, stretching her legs in front of her and looking up at the thick canopy of trees. “I often come here, when I need a moment to reflect. Do you have such a place, back in King’s Landing?” 
“Not strictly in King’s Landing, no,” he said. Then smiled some sort of private, secret smile when she made a questioning sound. “The skies.”
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Later in the day, the luncheon turned into a merry banquet that celebrated what they all considered to be a promise of stability and prosperity for the crown. The lords of the North were confident that having a Stark near the throne would improve their prospects in the next few years, and in time profit the whole region when Aegon became king and Aryana would come to rule at his side.
She bore on her shoulders hope for her entire people and beyond—the North didn’t stop at Castle Black, and in the secrecy of her own heart, she carried the circumstances of the death of her birth father.
The whole assembly went silent and stood in respect as Rickon Stark proposed a toast. He stood with his back to the fire, and with his long hair and beard streaked with gray and his cloak lined with pelts, he looked like an old wolf, or an old warrior. “I would like to toast to this unprecedented alliance and thank his grace King Viserys for this honor,” he said, raising his cup above the line of his shoulders.
At his side, King Viserys smiled, looking pleased. He nodded before raising his own cup.
“A toast to my son Prince Aegon and his betrothed, Lady Aryana. I am sure you will make us all very proud,” he responded, and Aryana couldn’t help but notice how the king’s gaze quickly passed over his own son to set on her, where he lingered for a moment as he gave his compliment.
The smile on Aegon’s face was tight, and Aryana quickly thanked the king, eager to get the attention away from them. When they sat back, Aegon was uncharacteristically quiet, his back ramrod straight and his fingers tight around his cup.
He sighed in obvious relief when Cregan stood from his seat and walked around the table, coming up to him to ask his permission to dance with Aryana.
“I would request one last dance with my sister before your grace whisks her away,” he said with good humor but a hint of defiance that had Aryana roll her eyes.
As men and women, adults and children alike, filled the space with merry dancing that was very different from the dances customary in the capital, Aryana was swept away into the crowd with one last look to Aegon. He forced himself to keep his composure as long as he could see her, but as soon as she disappeared into the mass of bodies, he stood up and drained his cup, excusing himself.
He found a hallway that led to the outside, to a covered inner courtyard where he took a few deep breaths to settle his emotions. The humiliation stung, and he wondered how many people in the crowd had noticed the blatant way his father had dismissed him, obviously giving his blessing to Aryana alone. 
Hot tears stung the corner of his eyes but he held them at bay, until familiar footsteps came behind him.
“I am simply taking some air, father,” he justified himself before the king reached him, startled when he was grabbed by his shoulder and turned to face his father.
“Your betrothed is waiting for you,” Viserys reprimanded, anger etched on his face, and Aegon tried to free himself from his hold. “Again.”
“I shall go now, then.”
However his father’s grip only tightened and his mouth turned downward. “I held my tongue when you disappeared during the luncheon instead of seeking your intended, but I cannot and will not let you make a bad impression of yourself.”
Aegon kept his silence, desperately wanting to defend himself, to assure the king that Aryana had not been offended by his seeking the quiet of the Godswood. He wanted to tell him of their conversation, of their finding common ground under the sacred wood’s canopy, but he wished to keep this moment for himself. 
“Do you think it brings me joy to reprimand you this way?” Viserys pressed, and Aegon shook his head silently. “Answer me!” he snapped at his son’s silence, startling Aegon. 
“No, father,” he quickly replied, hot tears coming to his eyes again, and this time he knew he could not fight them.
“Jaehaerys would have not tolerated your ways the way I have. It is time for you to obey and to conform to what is expected of you,” the king insisted, despite the humiliated tears that streaked his son’s face now.
Jaehaerys would have been just, and he would have been proud of any son and heir, no matter the woman he was born to, Aegon thought in the privacy of his mind, regretting bitterly that the old king had passed before his birth. He spoke none of these words, knowing what awaited him if he spoke his own disappointment—a strike across the face, sharp and stinging, with the back of the hand. 
The rings on his father’s hand had split his lip more times than he could count, and he often blamed himself for how he had provoked his king, that he would need to resort to physical violence as words didn’t seem to register with him. He was beyond explanations, a lost cause that could only understand violence.
“You will not drink a drop more than what you have tonight for the remainder of our stay here,” the king commanded. “And you will spend every waking moment either with me, or with your intended. Am I clear?”
Aegon’s voice wobbled when he spoke and he curled his hands to stop their shaking. “Yes, father.”
As the king released his son, the young man made a wounded sound and scampered away, unaware his humiliation had had an unexpected witness.
Leaning on the railing of the balcony atop their heads, in the quiet and darkness of the night, Cregan had found some air after his dance with Aryana, holding his breath the moment he realized what was taking place a few feet away. 
He remained still as stone until the king left as well, and the words he had heard stayed with him all throughout the night. “Cregan, are you alright?” Aryana asked as she came to find him later, after a few dances with Prince Aegon. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” he whispered, taking Aryana by the arm and leading her away from the noise. She followed him into one of the hallways, and she took a sip of wine while waiting for him to speak. 
“I stumbled upon a conversation between the king and Prince Aegon, earlier. It was rather tense,” he started to explain, the words he had heard visibly still echoing in his head.
“I suppose the prospect of his eldest son’s marriage is putting pressure on the king,” Aryana said quietly, filling the silence in the time it took for Cregan to find the words to elaborate, her brow furrowing.
“Far from me to criticize the king and how he raises his sons, but in this instance he seemed overly harsh and unjustly so,” Cregan said, looking concerned. “He treated him like a boy.”
“Father still treats you like a boy sometimes,” Aryana pointed out, and they both smiled in tenderness at the mention of their father.
“Father would never humiliate me to make a point,” Cregan murmured, and Aryana’s stomach twisted in a tight knot. Viserys seemed of mild character, neither too soft nor too harsh, and even though Cregan would never repeat words he had overhead, she was glad he was sharing his impression with her.
Aryana wondered if what she had noticed during their conversation in the Godswood was more than a simple uncomfortable moment, if it held issues she was unaware of. “Aegon has the righteous arrogance of a royal prince, but a self-deprecating sense of humor,” Aryana murmured, almost to herself. “I’m unsure what to make of it.”
Left reeling by their first meeting but uneasy about Aegon’s true state of mind about their union, Aryana struggled to find sleep that night.
She realized that, foolishly, she had never considered that even though the match had been at the initiative of the Targaryens, her prince might not look forward to such an alliance. Still, she forced herself to wait until she made her judgment.
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Dividers by @saradika
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vodkaletters · 23 hours
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Yes, Targaryen men are gorgeous. The beauty of a malnourished twink who wasn't sleep well in years but Targaryen women? They're superior in beauty. A powerful woman who can fight, ride a dragon and be kinda psychic? There's no debate in that.
I don't care if you bring your stupid brother-husband with you, let me get to know you better
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